#i hope everything is linked right my brain actively fights against me with these things

[dudeyuri]

bad buddy fandom getting-to-know-you meme!

note: i consider "fanworks" to pretty much everything people create related to a fandom, including but not limited to meta/analysis/discussion, gifs, fanvids/edits/fancams, filk, fanart, fanfic, fan food, fan crafts, etc. please include this note with the meme unless you have a different definition!

name and whatever you want to share about yourself

hi i’m yarrow, she/her, i’m 28, i’m bisexual, i’m having the time of my life. i live in NY. if you’re a mutual who also lives in NY by any chance we should be friends

when did you watch bad buddy/join the fandom?

watching bad buddy was the first thing i did this year and it didn’t take me long after to make this blog. it hit me so unbelievably hard, i was reeling, i’m still reeling. i know i’m preaching to the choir but for me it’s unlike anything i’ve loved before. i had been out of fandom for like. almost ten years. before bbs (and a small handful of other beloved thai bls) yanked me back in

favorite ship(s)

well you know. the obvious one. inkpa too OF COURSE. waikorn cracks me up even if i’m a nonbeliever. i loved whatever was happening between pat, pran, phupha, and tian. and i also love, in a platonic way, pran’s dynamic with ink (he makes fun of her bracelet/fakes her out by saying he also liked her…as a friend. it’s very endearing very sibling-in-law) and pran’s dynamic with pa (in bbs but also in bbsos2) 

favorite character(s)

god how to choose between pat and pran. they are both characters of all time. well-developed with idiosyncrasies and penchants for lying and performing and slipping into roles and reversing roles. especially when they’re with each other of course. i might choose pran simply because i see more of myself in pat if that makes sense

favorite episode(s)

it’s probably episode 5, or episode 11. both these episodes just take everything out of me. you know why. runners up: episode 3 and episode 12. this is hard to pick because there is not a single episode i wouldn't enjoy (lol) randomly rewatching. all bangers no skips

favorite scene(s)

i love the scene in episode 4 of pat telling pran his dimples are cute. episode 5 fight scene my beloved. then there's the entirety of the bet era like aside from how perfect it is for pat and pran…it’s just peak romance, peak build-up, such a pleasure to watch. i reeeeeally do love the fantasy sequence of pat and pran eating dinner with pran’s parents in episode 11, i’m fascinated by it in a meta sense but also it hurts so good. i like ming and dissaya hearing pat and pran laughing and singing together in pran’s room in ep12 and being utterly powerless to stop it. it’s like, the show didn’t necessarily need all of ep 12, but it was such a welcome and fitting epilogue to these beloved characters and their love. pat and pran are gonna be alright... 

one thing you would change about the show if you could

i really appreciate all of its imperfections honestly but. it would have to be the aftermath of wai outing pat and pran. even in my first watch it was a head scratcher that pran was expected to be the one apologizing. it just didn’t add up. there was a weight behind what was happening that the show didn’t realize. i can rationalize it and explain it away to make wai somewhat less heinous in universe but it really should have been treated as what it was: an outing. also yes let ink and pa kiss.

what are your some of your favorite fanworks made by other people? 

you know i’m a sucker for @kit-teung's art

and for @hereforlou's art. pure domestic bliss that pat and pran have EARNED. this is the fanart reimaginings they deserve. also i love their little cowlicks

@miscellar's meta series the comprehensive shrek breakdown of pat and pran's story in our skyy (particularly for ep3 which i linked). i was in the trenches those two weeks in late may/early june and these posts (and their dms) were my guiding light...all of miscellar's meta is extremely baller and forever on the bbs 101 syllabus in my mind. and for some reason i’m waiting to read more bad buddy fanfiction until after i finish my own BBS fic but I’m excited to read their zombie patpran. so it gets an honorable mention here + they get so many anons singing its praise like i literally can't wait

also I’m not on Twitter much at all but the other day I read @dimplesandfierceeyes's pinned thread and listen it got me through the day. just read it if you haven't.

@transpat's "pre-relationship patpran and haq" post about the unspoken entitlement they entrust each other with. a deep dive into their pre-relationship dynamic. it's so good. an all-time bbs meta

@ranchthoughts (and me a little) talking about Pran's "Pat you've got to stop doing this to me" line in ep 5 here. i fucking LOVE this line and this meta. ranch's baseball mom shirt meta also required reading

"Bad Buddy, Tragedy, and Queer Futures" essay by @chickenstrangers, another all-time bbs meta, required reading. i go back to this one a lot

(if you create fanworks) what are your favorite fanworks that you’ve made?

my favorite bbs fanwork I’ve made is the unreleased patpran timeloop WIP that has been burning a hole in my gdocs for the past month. i’m having so much fun writing it but wow it’s also driving me up the fucking wall (affectionate)

i also really enjoyed all the meltdowns in the tags/notes when i posted this about that ep11 scene i love. and then this is my love letter to bbs, i think it still holds up idk my bbs os2-induced manic episode is all a blur.

idk anything else you want us to know?

thanks @fiercynn this was so cute 

i’m tagging some mutuals who post about bbs fairly often who i havent seen do this yet (i think?? i’ve been kind of absent lately). if i didn’t tag you and you want to do it please do, you can say i tagged you <3

@chickenstrangers @miscellar @hereforlou @ranchthoughts @midnightfreeway @philologique @neonsbian

[flames-tstuff]

Okay so, um, I hope you don’t mind me requesting something! ^.^ 💕 You always support me and I wanna support you too!

So, Uraraka and Ojiro. Fluff & Tickles. The idea is that Uraraka is stressed out and one way she copes is by coloring, and Bakugou or whoever sees her and teases her, then Ojiro defends her and says like, it’s fine to be a kid sometimes, bc they’ve grown up pretty fast. And so like, the next day they go to a park and swing, he gets her ice cream, then they go back to the dorm and color while watching cartoons, and then a tickle scene happens on the cartoon, and then it leads to him tickling her and hugs and cuddles and friendship. Aaaaa 🙈

To Be a Kid Again (BNHA)

Ojiro wants to show Uraraka that it’s okay to be a kid again sometimes.

Pairings: Platonic Uraraka and Ojiro

Warnings: Bakugou being a jerk, some light angst

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: Omg this is such a cute pairing!! I've never even considered them together, either as friends or as partners. What would their ship name be? Ojiraka? Also, I've never written for either of them, so I hope this is okay!

Uraraka was tired. It had been a long day at school, and despite the fact that it was only Wednesday, she was more than ready for the weekend.

After changing out of her uniform and grabbing a couple items from her room, Uraraka flopped down onto one of the couches of the commons with a heavy sigh. She really didn’t have anything to do now that classes were over for the day. She’d already finished her homework and dinner wasn’t for another or hour or so. Despite how exhausted she was, she had just enough energy left to do one of her favorite activities to pass the time: coloring.

She didn’t know why exactly, but something about sitting down and letting herself get lost in the mindlessness of coloring had always been soothing to her. So there she was, sitting on the couch crisscross, using her knee as a table and getting to work. After a few minutes, the brain fog that had been plaguing Uraraka the last couple of hours began to disappear, and her mind was back as ease.

That was, until Bakugou came into the room. Looking just as tired and grumpy as she felt, Bakugou was about to head up to his room when Uraraka accidentally caught his eye.

“What are you looking at, Round Face?”

She quickly looked back down at her lap in alarm. “N-Nothing. Sorry.”

Bakugou continued to glare her way when he noticed the book in her lap and the pile of markers next to her. He came a few feet closer, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Tch. What are you, five years old?”

“Wh… what do you mean?”

At this time, Ojiro had just entered the commons and was just about to step into the elevator when the other students’ conversation caught his attention.

“Coloring books? Seriously? That shit’s for babies.”

Uraraka felt her cheeks start to burn.

“Hey, hey!” Ojiro jogged over to see what the commotion was about. Bakugou tended to pick fights pretty easily. “What’s going on here?”

Bakugou just crossed his arms and scowled at him.

Ojiro looked down at Uraraka, whose ears and cheeks were painted red. He then noticed the art supplies surrounding her. “Is he giving you a hard time?”

Uraraka just looked back and forth between the two of them, not daring to say anything.

“I heard you say something was ‘for babies,’” Ojiro turned to Bakugou with a stern look on his face. “You weren’t talking about coloring, were you?”

Again, silence.

“It’s really not, you know. People draw and color all the time! Besides, even if it was, what’s wrong with that? Everyone should be allowed to do things they enjoy, especially something as harmless as coloring. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is that we’re trying to be heroes!” Bakugou shot back. “Heroes shouldn’t be doing childish shit like that! If you really wanted to be a hero you’d be out training!”

Ojiro sighed, a little exasperated. “Of course training is important. But rest is important too. Doing things you love is important. If you don’t take the time to be a kid and let loose a little, you’re going to burn out. No pun intended, in your case, Bakugou.” Ojiro smiled, a little teasingly.

“Ugh, whatever,” Bakugou relented and headed back towards the elevator. “Whatever it’ll take for you to shut up and stop lecturing me.”

Uraraka and Ojiro both snickered at that, and in a few moments, it was just the two of them.

“Sorry about that,” Ojiro said apologetically. “Bakugou can be a real pain sometimes.”

“No kidding,” she agreed. “Um… thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve been okay on my own.”

“Of course you would have! But what are friends for?” Ojiro smiled brightly, holding out his hand. Uraraka smiled back and accepted the hand up. “You hungry? I think it’s about time for dinner.”

~~~

The next day was just as hard, though Uraraka did feel a little better after a good night’s sleep.

After dinner the previous night, Ojiro had asked if she’d want to hang out the next day after classes, in attempt to keep tabs on her since her fight with Bakugou. She assured him she was fine, but he insisted that it was his treat, so she obliged.

“So where are we going?” Uraraka asked walking next to Ojiro on the sidewalk.

“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places.” The two entered a chain link-fenced area.

“…a playground?”

“Yep! This was one of my favorite places in the world as a kid, and it still is. Come on! Let’s swing!”

And before she could argue, Ojiro grabbed her hand and tugged her along towards the swing set. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone else around, so they had the place to themselves.

“So,” Uraraka started, swinging her legs a little. “Why are we doing this exactly? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out! But where is this coming from?”

Ojiro laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I was thinking, well… I wanted to show you that’s it’s okay to be a kid. To let loose a little. You seemed like you needed it, especially after what happened yesterday.”

Uraraka’s heart warmed at that. She really couldn’t ask for better classmates as friends.

Ojiro’s expression dropped to something a little more serious. “I’ve realized that we’ve all had to grow up so fast in these last few years. It makes me kind of sad.”

“Why is that?” Uraraka questioned.

“Don’t you miss this kind of stuff?” He gestured to the rest of the play set. “As much as I hate it, I think you and I both know there’s some truth to what Bakugou said yesterday. Heroes are supposed to be constantly training, constantly trying to grow and improve their skills. All that’s great, but it leaves no room to be what we actually are… teens. Kids. Don’t you ever feel like you grew up too fast?”

Uraraka couldn’t help but think about her parents. How, as just a little girl, barely old enough to go to school, she committed to helping them make money in any way she could. All the experiences she’d missed out on when she was younger due to her family’s financial situation. “Yeah… I guess I do.”

Ojiro offered a sympathetic smile. “That’s why it’s times like these, in the little spare moments we have to ourselves, that we can take the time to indulge that inner child.”

Uraraka took a moment to digest his words. “I think I understand now.” Then, in a small, hopeful voice: “Maybe... a-after we’re done here, we could... um... get some ice cream?”

Ojiro grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He hopped off his swing. “Race ya!”

“Hey, no fair!” Uraraka laughed and chased after him.

~~~

After getting their ice cream—strawberry for Uraraka and vanilla for Ojiro—the two friends happily walked back to the dorms together.

“By the way,” Ojiro said, “I never got the chance to tell you, but I saw your coloring book, and well… it looks really good!”

“Oh!” Uraraka looked down, a little embarrassed. “Hah, thanks…”

He could tell she did believe him. “I’m being serious! I think it’s really cool that you’re into that kind of stuff. Have you always liked coloring? You seem to be good at it.”

“Yeah, but I really can’t take much credit. I mean, it’s just filling in the shapes. It’s not like I drew it,” she reasoned, licking her ice cream.

“Hey, I can hardly stay in the lines, so it’s impressive to me.”

Uraraka laughed, knowing he was probably just saying that to make her feel good, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

“Thank you,” she said, speaking as sincere as possible. They had made it back to the common area of the dorms where they stood, waiting to depart to their own rooms. “For everything.”

Ojiro realized she thought he had brought her back here to say goodbye. “Hey, if you want, you can hang in my room.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! We could watch TV, or if you have homework to work on, I won’t bother you.”

She smiled. “I’d love that. Thanks again, Ojiro, you’re the best.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Ojiro was a little taken aback, but quickly returned the gesture.

The two friends sat comfortably on his bed with their backs against the wall. The TV droned on in the background, mostly forgotten, as they chatted about school and their weekend plans.

Once the conversation died out, they settled down to watch what was playing on the screen, falling into comfortable silence. One of the characters poked the other, making them jump back and laugh. Ojiro smiled at the scene and stole a quick glance at Uraraka to see how she was doing, just in time to see her blush a little at the sight. It was so brief, if he hadn’t looked at just the right moment he would’ve missed it.

Suddenly feeling mischievous, Ojiro darted his hands to Uraraka’s sides and began squeezing, making her squeal and fall back on the bed in a fit of happy giggles.

“Ohohjiroho! Eeeep! Whaha—Why? Hahaha!”

“Because! I wanna hear you laugh! Didn’t I tell you to start letting loose?”

Uraraka was too weak and giddy to respond or do much more than weakly bat his hands in a half-hearted attempt.

Ojiro made the mistake of coming closer to get better purchase on her ribs, and Uraraka pushed through the tickly feeling just enough to be able to reach a hand up and scratch at the base of his spine, making him yelp and jerk away. This gave Uraraka just enough time to gain the upper hand by pushing him down and straddling his waist with her knees.

“Uraraka, wa-HAHAHAIT!” he burst into loud belly laughter as she began kneading up and down his torso the same way he had done to her.

“Maybe you should start taking your own advice, Ojiro!” she laughed with him. “Come on, you shouldn’t be afraid of being a kid again, right? Tickle tickle!”

This made his cheeks turn bright red and his laugh go a few pitches higher.

Uraraka was feeling all-powerful with Ojiro now at her mercy. That was, until she felt a soft, feathery feeling against her neck and under her chin, making her flinch and snort.

“Ohohoh my gohohosh, you snohorted!” Ojrio teased through his own laughter.

“N-no fahahair!” Uraraka stammered out as best she could. “You shohouldn’t be allowed t-to use your tahahail!”

“Wehehell too bahad! I’m using it!”

The two stayed like that, trying to out-tickle each other—Uraraka going at his ribs and belly, and Ojiro trying his best to throw her off using his tail to brush all over her neck and sides, both laughing hysterically. Eventually Uraraka was weakened just enough for Ojiro to get her back one last time before they both collapsed in exhaustion.

“Jeez, you don’t give up easy, do you?” Uraraka panted, a big smile still on her face.

“No,” Ojiro agreed. “But you held out pretty long too, I’m impressed.”

After finally catching their breath, Uraraka opened her arms in offering. “Cuddles?”

Ojiro couldn’t have refused the offer if he tried. “Heh. Yeah, cuddles.”

He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her torso, leaning his head into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him in return, resting her head atop his.

And there they stayed for the rest of the evening.

[pastelsandpining]

✨ Hey ✨ Can I order a . . . 5, 27, and 33? 👀 With a Zelink as the main course? (TP) <3

this is not my best work and it's incredibly over due but!!

Solace

words: 1526

warnings: as always read with caution; mentions of grief, homesickness

Masterlist | Prompt List | Touch Prompts

------

The Princess of Hyrule was regal and elegant, and everything that any other aspiring queen could only hope to be. Refined, proper, just, and wise beyond her years, and yet, he could see the silent struggle she carried. He did not pretend to know her; he was nothing but a farmhand who’d been given the sword of destiny and knew nothing about running a kingdom, pulling it from ruin, balancing personal trauma atop the trauma of thousands, repairing diplomatic relationships and boundaries, or governing a people that stretched from icy mountains to scalding deserts. The inability to belong in Ordon, to fit in with those who loved him enough to mourn him instead of adapt to who he’d become, did not mean he could insert himself into the life of castles and crowns.

And still, Link found himself keeping an eye on her. The first time he noticed her grabbing her wrist was during a meeting with the general in the early days of his recruitment. He’d pray for forgiveness every night for how he looked at her, studying her as if she could give him whatever it was that he was looking for, and he chastised himself for the needless concern. She was royalty, a goddess reincarnate. She probably had hundreds of people waiting on her constantly, attending to her every need and taking notice of every little sign of distress or trouble. He said nothing to anyone about it, but he still found it odd she’d done it multiple times in what was only a half-hour time frame.

The next time he was close enough to see her repeat the action, a fair amount of time had passed. Princess Zelda had warned him that, should he accept her invitation to join the knights of the castle and teach them what he knew, he would have to undergo months of training before he was deemed of high enough rank to offer any sort of knowledge that could be considered useful. The training was intensive, but it was easy compared to holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It was during the knighting ceremony, when he was watching her instead of listening to the speech of the general, when he saw her grab her wrist. No, not her entire wrist. Two fingers were pressed to one small, specific area—her pulse point. She was checking her pulse.

Such an innocent action made him feel dirty, as if it was something he shouldn’t have noticed. Maybe if he was anyone else, he wouldn’t. But Link had grown very observant of people and their actions within the last few years. If only he knew what it meant, but he didn’t.

For all of the courage he possessed, it took a little bit of liquid luck to get him to ask. She’d cordially invited him to a small celebration (why specifically for him, he would never know) that same night, and maybe both of them were drinking for some sort of anesthetic relief.

“It reminds me that I’m alive,” she answered, lifting her fingers to the pulse point in her wrist again, “at times my body no longer feels like myself, or when I remember what it looked like, limp and lifeless.”

“Is it comforting?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know.”

A beat of awkward silence hovered in the air between them. Then, Zelda held her wrist out towards him. An invitation, maybe--or at least, that’s what he took it as, cupping her hand in one of his own to support it while the other settled two of its fingers against the artery in her wrist. The beat was steady and strong. The feeling was visceral, and he didn’t know why. What was it about the steady beat of blood traveling to and from the heart that set him off, had him thinking about her, and of Midna, and of Ilia, and of home? All things he’d lost to the twisted strings of fate, left only with a princess he wanted so desperately to but couldn’t reach. That was the cost no one ever spoke of, and he knew she felt it too. Maybe it was his offer of help, or maybe it was the one selfish thing he’d done since he left Ordon, but he lifted her hand just high enough to brush his lips against her pulse.

Link did not see the princess again for another month. He was whisked away to some outpost to keep a careful eye on the activity of a bokoblin pack, something boring that left him feeling limp and drained and longing for any sort of companionship. Sure, he got along well enough with other knights, particularly those he’d been training with, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like the relationship he’d had with Ilia, or the closeness he had with Midna, or whatever he craved from Zelda.

When he did return, a too many, thirty-something days later, he wasn’t sure what he expected. He didn’t think he was fit for anything with the princess, but here she was, a mere few hours after his arrival, at the brink of tears as she asked, in a voice too small to fit the big role she filled, to speak with him.

Maybe the lack of company had gotten to her, too. He didn’t pretend to know her enough to make the assumption.

The garden was the most secluded place outside of her bedroom and as soon as she deemed they were far enough, she broke into a fit of sobs. Link had never seen the composed princess fall apart before. He couldn’t even ask what was wrong. All he could do was watch her in surprise, wracking his brain for what he was supposed to do when his superior in every way of existence cried.

Without a word, she held up a reflective shard that took no time to recognize as he took it from her hands. The weight shifted immediately, making him feel homesick for something he no longer had.

“Why do you have this?” he asked softly, fighting to look at Zelda instead of the Mirror of Twilight piece that he wasn’t sure he could trust his reflection with.

“It reminds me of… a dear friend,” she replied in the breaks between her gasps for breath. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have it. I should’ve given it to you sooner.”

She looked so...guilty over something. He didn’t understand where it was coming from, or why she was so sorry over something so trivial.

“It’s yours,” he argued. “Why give it to me?”

“You were close to her in a way I never could be.”

Link frowned, lowering the shard in favor of looking at her. She looked a mess. How long had she given herself to the effects of the mirror?

“That’s ridiculous,” he whispered as he placed the shard down on a bench, as far away from her as it could possibly get at that moment. “She loved you.”

“Why do we talk about her like she’s dead?”

Hylia above, he was so useless. He reached for her, circling his hand around hers, and searched for her pulse point. It seemed to ground her enough to where she could breathe again. When the gasps finally stopped, he pulled her towards him and wrapped her in a hug. It was all he could do as he whispered back, “It’s easier to let go that way.”

And just like that, the people of Ordon made sense to him. Just like that, Zelda dug her fingers into the back of his shirt and held him a little tighter. Just like that, whatever barrier was holding him back from pursuing a friendship, from being selfish just a little bit more, was broken.

Months of conversations between meals, or on night walks, brought them closer than he ever thought he’d get to be. Maybe, finally, Link was starting to heal from all he’d faced. Maybe she was starting too, as well. The dark circles were fading and she was gaining some well needed weight. She looked healthier, smiled easier, and he knew her well enough to make that assumption.

The turning point was the night of her coronation. Zelda felt well enough to pursue her crown, and they celebrated on their own after the grand ceremony, sipping wine and twirling each other about in her bedroom.

She was laughing. Her smile was beautiful and he couldn’t help grinning right back. Link hadn’t felt this warm, this complete in a long time. Maybe she felt it too, because she tugged him closer by the hands and covered his smile with her lips.

This was what he was looking for, he was sure. A sense of belonging, and never had he expected to find it with the queen of Hyrule, who was so far out of his league. She’d never hear it of course, which would lead to many playful arguments in the future, but for now, he was happy to kiss her, feel her pulse, and hug her close enough to restore the warmth he lost when he had to be away.

[northerngoshawk]

No Air

@whumptober2021

Rating: T (for violence, torture (maybe), and choking)

Summary: Aang slumped and looked around, dully watching the firelight flicker. It was rather unfortunate, he mused, that he was captured by the Fire Nation, but honestly, he couldn't bring himself to care that much about it, not if his friends were able to escape safely.

Better him than them.

Or: Aang gets captured by Azula.

Written for Whumptober Day 2: "Talking is overrated"

Prompts: Garrote | Choking | Gagged

Word Count: 2.2k

AO3 || FF.net

The world first appeared as blurred red-orange blobs that blended together with the dark brown, almost black background, like a painting that had been smudged together. Even when Aang blinked a couple of times (why were his eyelids so heavy?), the world seemed oddly muted, indistinct.

Gradually, however, the borders between objects sharpened, and Aang found himself kneeling on the cold ground with his hands behind his back, staring up at huge menacing walls of brown brick that stretched over him into a large arch over his head. It reminded him of the holding cell he had been in when he had been captured by Zhao, which was not what he wanted to be reminded of at all.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened to lead up to this point. Everything was a whirlwind, a blur of activity that he could barely decipher—and the fact his head throbbed fiercely did nothing to help jog his memory. He squeezed his eyes even harder, mentally racking his brain with something, anything that could help him remember.

Fire roaring through the courtyard, hot air searing his skin.

The screams and shouts of his friends as they ducked for cover.

Whirling around frantically, searching for them, hoping, begging that they were alright.

Something hard and heavy being slammed into the back of his head, stars exploding in his eyes.

Katara's wide, horrified eyes the last thing he sees before the world goes black.

The back of his head throbbed harder than ever, like it was loudly protesting his getting caught by the Fire Nation. Aang instinctively made to rub the aching spot, but when his hands jerked, he looked behind him and realized his hands were chained to a grate in the ground, metal links wrapped around its bars.

He suppressed a sigh. Of course.

Aang slumped and looked around, dully watching the firelight flicker. It was rather unfortunate, he mused, that he was captured by the Fire Nation, but honestly, he couldn't bring himself to care that much about it, not if his friends were able to escape safely.

Better him than them.

They could take care of themselves, he knew, which is why he's confident that they escaped; they wouldn't have made the same mistake he had, letting a Fire Nation soldier sneak up on him like that.

(he wondered if Toph had seen—well, felt—it happen, and amused himself with the thought of her lecturing him when he got himself out of this mess)

(if he got himself out of this mess)

The sound of the metal door scraping against the stone floor echoed throughout the chamber, and Aang glanced over to see four firebenders enter the chamber, followed by…

A cold stone of dread began congealing in the pit of his stomach. "Azula."

The Fire Princess placed her hand over her heart, her eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. "So you do remember me." She smirked, her eyes calculating and mirthless. "How flattering."

The scar in his back tingled.

"What do you want from me?" he demanded loudly, trying to ignore the twinge in his back. He had meant it to sound confident, firm, maybe even angry, but it sounded more scared than he wanted it to.

And from the sadistic gleam in her eye, Azula heard it too.

"What makes you think we want something from you?" she purred, circling him in an almost predatory fashion, as if she were a wolf eyeing a piece of fresh meat. Aang tried to shrink in on himself, unnerved by the piercing look in her eyes. "Why, you're the Avatar; you were the only obstacle standing in our way to total victory." She walked away from him, her back to him. "There wouldn't be anything else we would want from you, other than your capture.

"Unless, of course…" She turned to regard him with a sly smile that Aang didn't like the look of. "You're saying you have information we would want."

"I don't," Aang said quickly, realizing too late a bit too quickly.

And from the way Azula's eyes narrowed, it didn't go unnoticed. "I see."

She stopped, tilting her head to the side, as though considering something. "Actually, now that I think about it," she said—something in her voice made ice slither down Aang's back, "there is something that you would be most… helpful in providing for us."

Fear crawled up Aang's throat at the way her golden eyes gleamed. No… she couldn't possibly…

Azula leaned in so close, all he could see was her flaxen eyes that gleamed menacingly in the dim firelight as she hissed, "Where is my traitorous brother?"

Aang jerked his head away from her, leveling a defiant glare at her as he tried to hide the terror he felt. "I don't know," he said forcefully. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." He tilted his chin up, squarely meeting her narrowed gaze with his own.

Azula's eyes flitted over his face, as though gauging for any weakness, any vulnerability in his face. Aang kept his gaze steadily fixed on her, refusing to waver.

Then, she did the last thing he expected her to do.

She smiled.

"I know," she said pleasantly—a chill ran down Aang's back. She stepped away from him, a sly, menacing smile fixed upon her face. "Which is why we have the perfect bait."

Aang's breath caught in his throat as it hit him. "No…"

"Oh, yes." Azula twirled her bangs, looking as though she were very much enjoying the panic that was now rising in Aang's chest. "I take it they're very… fond of their Avatar. It would be a shame if they were to come back for you and"—she sneered—"something were to happen to them."

No, no, no— Aang jerked against his chains, cold panic filling his lungs and rising in his throat. He strained against his bindings, but it's not enough, not as Azula begins speaking.

"Perhaps we'll throw the earthbender into a lake of water," Azula mused aloud. A sadistic smile flitted on her face. "I hear she can't swim."

No no no—

"Or maybe we'll throw that water tribe barbarian into the fighting ring. I'd be interested in seeing how long he lasts before he inevitably perishes."

"Stop!" The word exploded from Aang's mouth on its own. He was only distantly aware of cold tracks on his face as he struggled against the chains tying him down. He squeezed his eyes shut, not caring about the tears running down his face or how pathetic he sounded, and wished with all his might that he could block out Azula's sickeningly sweet voice.

"Maybe I'll personally escort poor Zuzu to our father." Cruel disdain dripped from her tone as she inspected her nails. She sneered with contempt. "Perhaps our father will burn in the lesson he never learned the last time he rebelled."

Nonononono—

"And, of course, the water tribe wench."

Aang's heart stopped.

A finger slid under Aang's chin and tilted his head up, forcing him to stare into those cold, cruel eyes. "Now I wonder," she said softly, deliberately, "what the best way to kill a waterbender is. Perhaps it would be fitting, to bind her hands and drown her in her own element. Or maybe she should suffocate deep underground, where no one will ever hear her scream."

No…

"But do you know what I think is the best way to kill one?" Azula leaned in so close to his ear, her lips brushed against it. "Burn them alive."

Something in him snapped.

One second, Azula was right in front of him; the next, she was slamming against the metal door across the room with a resounding BONG! before crumpling to the ground in a heap.

Aang ducked as a fireblast shot overhead, the firebender guards snapping into action upon seeing their princess lying prone on the ground. A firebender came at him, fist cocked and wreathed in flames, but Aang brought his feet out from underneath him and slammed them into the guard's midsection, sending him reeling into another firebender.

Another guard charged towards him, throwing out his fist towards Aang's face. Even with the limited maneuverability of having his hands tied down to a grate, Aang managed to dodge before sweeping his leg out, tripping the firebender. The guard stumbled over his own feet before crashing to the ground, rolling into a heap.

He felt the air currents ripple and moved just as a katana sliced through the air, barely missing him by a hair. He turned and kicked out, sending an airblast that slammed the guard head-on and sent him skidding back several steps.

The firebender backed up, sword brandished warily as though second-guessing his choice of engaging in battle. Aang glared at him. I like to see you try.

As if taking his silent challenge, the firebender charged again, steel blade whirling as he advanced on Aang. Aang slipped around his slashes and stabs easily, and the firebender visibly grew more frustrated with every blow that failed to connect, his sword swings growing more aggressive and reckless.

Finally, Aang jerked forward just as the sword came down, and it sliced clean through his bindings. He lurched forward, his hands free, and whirled around, punching out an air blast that sent the guard slamming into a brick wall.

For several moments, all was still. Aang looked around at the firebenders laying prone on the ground, their groans the only sounds echoing in the chamber.

Then he felt a ripple of heat in the air currents, and he turned just as blue flames filled his vision.

Aang slammed against the wall, head smacking hard against the bricks and making stars explode in his eyes. A palm slammed into his throat, fingers closing around his neck, and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

Aang gasped for air that wouldn't come, scrabbling at the hand (or was it a claw?) pinning him against the wall, at the fingers digging into his windpipe. Frantically, he kicked out, desperately trying to dislodge his attacker, but the fingers clenched into his throat tighter until his vision flashed white.

Wheezing, he pried desperately at the vice-like grip around his neck as he fought for air, fought to breathe. The world was beginning to spin all around him, turning inside out and flipping upside down until he was no longer sure what was up or down.

Gasping desperately, he opened his eyes to see piercing gold eyes staring back at him.

A cold smirk played on Azula's lips as she forced his head around, studying him with no more interest than an insect she was about to dissect. "I've always wondered what would happen if you cut an airbender off from his precious air," she sneered. Her fingernails dug into his skin, piercing into his throat, and his vision whitened.

Wild now with blind panic, Aang thrashed. He reached out for his element, pleading, begging for respite, for the very thing his body was starved of.

Never had he ever been so deprived of his own element.

(all alone)

He clawed

(why were his fingers so heavy)

at the crushing grip around his throat.

(so tired)

Darkness marching steadily over his vision.

(why was he still fighting?)

His fingers slackening from the hand against his neck.

(so heavy)

The world falling away to black.

(sleep)

He closed his eyes.

(floating, intangible, untouchable)

(nonexistent)

(what was up?)

(what was down?)

(was he flying?)

(or had he always been falling?)

When the world faded back into reality, Aang found himself limp on the ground at the feet of the firebenders, involuntarily coughing and sputtering, his throat burning but free of the crushing grip. His chest heaved laboriously as he gulped in air, his limbs floppy and still like a broken doll's.

He was sure Azula said something, but it was lost in the blood roaring in his ears, in the pounding of his head. Every sound was muffled as though he were underwater, every object blurred and indistinguishable except for splashes of color that flitted in his vision.

Azula said something else that he couldn't hear, but the sinister tone behind her words were enough. Then footsteps retreated, followed by the sound of a heavy door slamming shut.

Aang curled in on himself on the cold stone floor, body trembling involuntarily. His breaths sounded unnaturally loud and ragged in the sudden spacious emptiness of the stone chamber, echoing eerily all around him.

He thought of Zuko, of Toph, of Sokka, of Katara. He thought of their passion, their determination, their compassion, their willingness to fight. They would come for him, no doubt.

Then Azula's sadistic laugh echoed in his head, and his throat constricted in on itself.

Please, he prayed to the spirits, a tear rolling from his cheek. Keep them away. Don't let them come after me.

He squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself to breathe, just breathe. He breathed and breathed and breathed, inhaling and exhaling over and over again, trying to reassure his body that there was air, trying to convince himself that he was safe.

And if there was something warm trickling down his neck, he ignored it.

He was still breathing.

He was still breathing.

He was

still

(claws digging into his throat)

breathing.

(but how long until they take that from him too?)

[sage-nebula]

I was thinking about how Zelda absolutely has PTSD from trapping Ganon in Hyrule Castle for 100 years, and that made me want to write about it. I ended up writing 2,483 words, and while this is in no way up to my standards and is also not polished at all (or even a full fic; it’s like little pieces strewn together until my brain ran out of steam), I’m still happy I actually managed to write given how hard that has been for me over the past year and a half due to my critical exhaustion. So I’m going to post this rough draft here, for any who want to read it. 

- - -

Every morning, Zelda woke with fire and malice in her throat.

 It was something strange to cough, to gasp, to choke on something that existed only within her mind. It was odd, a curiosity—but one she couldn’t care to study as she hunched over the crevice between the bed and the wall for the second week in a row, trying desperately to stifle her coughing and hide her sweaty face with her hair so that Link wouldn’t see. She coughed, and scraped her tongue with her teeth, fighting to rid her mouth of a phantom substance she tasted with every breath she took, and every morsel of food she chewed.

 She couldn’t, of course. It was impossible to rinse out something that didn’t exist. Even as she took the proffered cup of water Link had fetched the moment he noticed her stirring (knowing, she knew with shame, what was going to come next) and gulped it down her burning throat, she knew it was no use. One hundred years of saturating her lungs in Ganon’s essence with every breath she took meant she’d never really be rid of the taste.

 But even so, she drank the water, and smiled in thanks at Link as she handed the cup back to him. He smiled, too, but it didn’t mitigate the concern in his eyes any more than the water had mitigated the flavor behind her teeth.

 ———

 For one hundred years, Zelda did not eat.

 She did not sleep.

 She did not dream.

 At least, not in any real sense. There were moments, especially as the decades ticked past, that she let her consciousness wander. She thought back to days—to years long past, to faces she could scarcely remember and voices that were now nothing more than bad echoes of her own. She checked in on Link, as much as one could check in on someone in a coma, and tried not to let herself feel disappointed each time she received nothing but silence in return. She wondered how Hyrule was faring, in the wake of the calamity; wondered how they managed to rebuild, to survive, and—in moments when she allowed herself hope—thrive despite the devastation that had ravaged them. Had they left the ruins of their former lives scattered along the landscape? Were there any still alive who remembered what happened the day the kingdom was torn asunder, and so many lives along with it?

 Her consciousness always returned to her when her captive growled, guttural and menacing, and she could not say what emotion she felt when her awareness was yanked back into the castle in those moments, whether it was fury, determination, or something else altogether. But as she stared at the beast she held bound in her golden chains, and tightened her grip on them enough so that she could feel her own power burning through her palms, all she knew was that the rush of emotion she felt in those moments meant that she would never, ever let go.

 ———

 Zelda didn’t remember very much of the journey to Hateno Village, and she certainly didn’t remember the seven days she spent asleep in what had formerly been Link’s bed. (“Ninety-nine years and . . . a lot of days to go before you beat my record,” Link had said.)

 But it didn’t take her too long to become aware, and when she did, she wished she hadn’t.

 Every morning, she woke with smoke and malice in her throat. Every night, she was back in the castle. Her fists were taut around golden chains wrapped around her forearms again and again to give her better bracing. Those same chains wrapped endlessly around a monster, a demon of unimaginable horror who had murdered her people, her friends, her family. A demon who stared down a putrid swine snout at her, snorting and snarling in her face, thrashing and roaring like a beast aside from the moments it tried to catch her off-guard like a man.

 For one hundred years, Zelda didn’t sleep. She couldn’t. Any time she let her grip slacken, the chains loosened, and the beast took advantage of the moment to raise a bloody moon so his monsters could savage the people of Hyrule. Princesses slept; wardens of demonic beasts did not.

 The beast was gone now, and Zelda knew that. She had used her power to banish it herself the moment Link landed the ending blow. The beast was gone, and for the first time in one hundred years, Zelda was allowed to sleep.

 She wished she wasn’t.

———

 She didn’t know what day it was, but in a way, she supposed it didn’t matter. One hundred years after the calamity and Hyrule had moved on in such a way that each day was now very much like the last. Each night, she was back in the castle. Each morning, she had fire and malice in her throat. Each day, she did her best to get herself in order so that she could stop the cycle from repeating. So far, she had yet to succeed.

 But if there was one thing her life, both pre- and during-calamity, had given her, it was determination. She would not quit. She could not quit. Link was helping her; he had brought her to his home, had given her his bed (despite her insistence that he should keep it, or that at least they should share, at which point he pretended to hear his horse neighing for him outside and had taken the stairs three at a time to escape), was cooking meals for her to help her recuperate. One hundred years was a long time to go without food, he’d said, as he’d handed her a hearty meat stew (and had corrected her that it was indeed hearty, not hardy, because of the hearty truffles he’d put in, see?). She needed to regain her strength, albeit with foods that were easy on the stomach at first, so that she could get used to eating again.

 Not eating for one hundred years wasn’t why she kept rubbing at her wrists, or felt wobbly on her feet. It wasn’t why she woke every morning gasping for clean air, or why her hands shook around the cup of water Link always had ready for her. But he was trying, and she wasn’t about to tell him otherwise, not when she had been enough of a burden on him already.

 So that morning, after she gulped down the cup of cool water that Link had left on the bedside table for her, Zelda brushed her sweaty hair from her face and took a deep breath. Today, she would have Link show her how to cook some recipes, so that she could take some of that burden from him. She would feed their horses, and actually start to get to know the one Link had saved for her—the one that was descended from her own horse, one hundred years ago. She would suggest an activity for them, perhaps fishing, and then see it through without there being an incident. Today she would get herself together far more than she had any of the days previous, and put the past one hundred years behind her where it belonged.

 As he always was on the mornings he wasn’t at her bedside, Link was outside cooking breakfast. He looked up as Zelda stepped through the doorway, and smiled—but Zelda saw his smile for only a fraction of a second before the smell of the food hit her, and her stomach curled.

 Smoke malice fire Ganon—

 One second, she was standing in the doorway of Link’s home. The next she was behind the horse stable, one hand braced against the house, the other arm wrapped around her stomach as she heaved all the water she had just drank, plus a few remnants of last night’s dinner, onto the grass. She retched, skin clammy and body shaking, and might have fallen to her knees in her own vomit if it weren’t for Link gripping her shoulder with one hand, his other hand holding her hair back from her face. Zelda coughed, and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth as her heaving subsided.

 “I—” she began, and swallowed hard as her throat closed tight again. “Apologies, I’m not sure what came over me.”

 “Sickness, I think,” Link said, and if she didn’t know him as well as she did, she might have thought he was being sarcastic. He waited until she was standing firm (or at least as firm as she could) before he let her go. “And you don’t have to apologize for being sick, Princess.”

 There was too much she could say to that, and yet not a single thing felt right. “What—what were you making?”

 “Eggs and bacon, with a side of saus . . . oh.” Link’s eyes widened at something he saw on her face. “Oh no. I’m sorry. I’ll throw it out.”

 Zelda shook her head. “There’s no reason for you to waste perfectly good food. I’ll just . . . eat around the pork.”

 “No, I’ll get rid of it. I can cook any number of things for breakfast,” Link said firmly. “Tell you what, we’ll have wildberry crepes instead. How’s that sound?”

 She smiled weakly. “That sounds lovely.”

 Link smiled back in the same way he always did, with concern still alight in his eyes even as his lips soundlessly told her he’d do his best to make everything all right. He offered her his hand—and it was silly, and embarrassing, and a bit patronizing, because she could walk well enough on her own and she had to fight the urge to smack his hand away—and she took it. He led her back around the house and quickly indoors, away from the smell of the now burned pork on the cooking pan, and told her that he’d have breakfast done in a flash. And he would—she knew he would, he always did. But as she sank into a chair at the table, her hair sticking to her flushed cheeks, she also knew that wasn’t the problem.

 ———

 It was two months, by Link’s calendar, before she felt up to a trip to Kakariko Village—a trip to see Impa.

 She had seen Purah, of course. Purah hadn’t waited for Zelda to make the trip to Hateno Tech Lab, and instead had made her own way to Link’s house, though how she’d managed to get there on her own given her stubby six-year-old legs, Zelda didn’t know. Meeting with Purah again was . . . an experience, to say the least. She had the same spirit Zelda remembered, a bouncy countenance both familiar and overwhelming, and Link thankfully managed to distract Purah with something outside before Zelda was overcome with sobs. The strange thing was, in the moment, Zelda couldn’t have told anyone why she was crying. Even now, weeks after the fact, she still wasn’t sure. Mentally, she hadn’t felt like crying. She hadn’t felt it emotionally, either. But somehow, seeing and hearing Purah one hundred years later, it had all been a little too much. She’d cried before she could help herself.

 It was that, at least in part, that made her stave off the trip to Kakariko, before the guilt gnawing at her gut told her she could stave it off no more. Rather than warp with the Sheikah Slate, Link suggested they ride. It would be good for her to spend time with her horse, he’d reasoned, and it would also give her a chance to see a little of Hyrule. The Dueling Peaks stable was at the midway point between the two villages if it got too late, but even that was unlikely given that Kakariko was only a half-day’s ride from Hateno.

 Link hadn’t needed all the justifications, and Zelda thought that perhaps Link knew he didn’t. But he gave them, and she took them, and in the end she still felt that even the extra half-day wasn’t quite enough.

 It was one thing for an old friend to have the body of a child due to a science experiment gone awry. It was another to see one hundred years of lost time reflected in every canyon etched into another friend’s face. Impa’s hair had always been white, but her hairline had receded to reveal age spots and crows feet around sunken eyes. Her lips were thin now, her shoulders hunched with arthritis, her joints cracking with every movement.

 But when Zelda stepped through the doorway of her home, and their eyes met, Impa smiled as if not a day had passed.

 “Princess,” Impa said, her voice a warm wheeze around her words. “It is so good to see you safe and whole once again.”

 Zelda nodded and smiled. Tried to smile. “Thank you, Impa. It is . . .” She was safe, she was . . . “It is also good to . . . to see you.”

 This time, she wasn’t aware of her tears until she saw them fall upon the kerchief Link offered her, splashing as she blinked in surprise at the cloth suddenly put in front of her face. Impa’s smile was gone, replaced by a look of sadness—of pity?—as her granddaughter, who looked so much like Impa used to, squeaked something about calming tea and dashed from the room. Zelda sniffed, gasped, choked hear tears back as she dabbed them away with the kerchief, and tensed every muscle in her body to keep from throwing Link’s hand off her elbow as she said, “I’m—I’m fine.”

 For she was fine. She was there, standing there, in Impa’s home in Kakariko Village, with two friends and an oddly familiar stranger. She was safe, and she was as whole as she could be, as she ever would be. She was fine, even as she sobbed into the kerchief Link had given her, hands trembling too badly to take the tea that Paya brought out a few minutes later.

 ———

 “Y-You know . . .” Paya said, stretching her tunic over her legs as she sat beside Zelda on the grass outside, while Link and Impa spoke within the house. “I think it’s—it’s okay if you need to cry. You’ve been through so much. You were trapped in the castle with Ganon for one hund—”

 “No,” Zelda interrupted, before she could stop herself. Paya startled, and looked her way. Zelda could feel Paya’s wide eyes on her, but she did not remove her own from her wrists—wrists that could still feel the weight of heavy golden chains made of her own power. “I . . . was not locked in the castle with him. He was locked in the castle with me.”

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

the story of us

this was requested by @fantasylover16. I genuinely had so much fun with this thank you! I hope you enjoy. Also I said nb jack frost rights and I meant it.

masterlist; my links

This is a story about two people.

One died three hundred years ago and has been alive since then. They have white hair, whiter than the stars, than burning light, than heaven itself. They have blue eyes that remind you of cracked ice in melting winter. They have ivory skin, some say like porcelain, it's more like liquid opal.

The other is twenty two years old. He has black hair, like jet fuel, and midnight. He has green eyes that hold oceans lost to time, that hold memories. He has brown skin that reminds you of cool forest floors and water glistened rock.

This is a story about who they are.

"Percy!" His roommate shouts from the kitchen. "Get your butt down here and tell me if the blue skirt goes better with these glasses!"

He laughs as he pulls a sweater over his heads and grabs his phone, slipping it into his back pocket. He feels the press of his pen as he pats himself down to make sure he has everything and when he is satisfied he bolts down the passage and stops short of the kitchen where Hazel Levesque is parading in front of their grand mirror on the opposing wall. She is decked out in black platform ankle boots, white fishnets that draw out the colour of her skin, slightly dark than his, a bright blue skater skirt and a soft pastel blue crew-neck not unlike his own.

"You Hazel Levesque," He grins bright and unrestrained, "Are a vision."

"Yes," She mutters still swopping between two pairs of clear-framed glasses and scrunching her nose, "But is it enough to bring my crush to their knees?"

"If Reyna doesn't bow down to you I think we can assume she's in desperate need of glasses."

"Well then maybe I should take both pairs and offer her one." She muses, pulling at her afro distractedly.

He snorts, turning to the counter and grabbing a bowl and whatever cereal he can reach first.

"Well," Hazel turns to him, he can see the smile she's trying so hard to hide, "Shall we be off then?"

He blinks at her, blinks again, points an unsure finger at his chest.

"Oh you don't expect me to brave Reyna on my own do you? Besides we're matching today it'd be quite ridiculous if we went out separately."

"But—" He looks to his bowl, as barren as the desert, "But my cereal?"

"I'll buy you breakfast on the way!" She waves the concern off, grabbing his hand and pulling them both out the door.

Despite their height difference, she makes it look far less like he's letting her pull him and far more like she has the strength to straight up carry him across the country.

"Hazel," He giggles, "Slow down."

"I can't Percy," She shakes her head vigorously, practically running through the park next to their building and into the bustling streets beyond. "If I don't do this now I'll lose all my courage and spend eternity in self-damned misery." Her brown eyes, turning honeyed as they catch the sun through the round glasses framing her face, flash bright and bold.

He stops them, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop the laughter shaking his body." You have never been a coward Hazel Levesque. No matter the day, time or outfit you have always been brave enough to stand up and do what's needed. And telling Reyna you have a crush on her is just another battle you absolutely can win." He pulls them apart, setting a steady green gaze on her excited one. "Now let's get some coffee, and a mint tea for you because you're hyper enough as it is, and then we'll go find the love of your life and I can finally show you the google-doc I have for your wedding."

She strangles his ribs in another hug and then takes a deep breath as she steps away. "What would I do without you Percy Jackson?"

"Let's never find out," He smiles, slinging an arm over her shoulder and directing them towards the Chaos House.

As per its namesake, walking into the café is like being lost in a crowd of sleep-deprived, adhd kids all connected to caffeine IVs. In short: it's chaos. Its their favourite place on earth.

Being hit with a wall of noise after the quiet of awakening nature feels like being sucker punched directly in your ear canal. Percy cannot help but grin as he takes in the racing patrons and the sound of coffee beans being ground and the smell of cinnamon and honey and endless activity.

They immediately spot a group of their friends and bolt for the booth they're all squished into.

"Reyna isn't here." Hazels voice is pitched with panic, "Oh gods what if she's sick today? What if she fell in a ditch on her jog this morning?" She stops right in the middle of the café, brown eyes wide. "What if she knew I was trying to do this and decided to stay home today to avoid seeing me?"

He grabs her arms already shaking his head. "My darling, I need you to take a deep breath. You are spiraling."

Wildness is still tracing her expression but he feels her shoulders rise and fall as she gulps air.

"Okay," He says gently, "Now we're gonna go to our table, have a good time with our friends and if and when Reyna shows up you're going to tell her how you feel and I'll meet you back at home so you can let me know when the wedding is."

She smacks his shoulder gently, nervous giggles escaping her. "Alright fine. I hate when you get reasonable. It's very disconcerting."

"Good thing it's rare," His lips twitch, and they finally start towards their friends.

A loud chorus of hellos and how are you’s ring around his head as they get nearer and he feels right at home amongst it all.

"What's up losers?" He flops down next to Jason, pressing a shoulder into the blondes side in a hug.

Annabeth sits next to the blonde, squished between him and Piper, a leg over Jason's thigh and her hand intertwined with Piper's. Frank is on the opposite side, a casual arm slung over Leo's shoulder. Hazel squeezes in besides Leo and sighs dramatically.

"What's wrong Levesque?" Piper frowns, reaching over to clasp the girl's hand.

"She's feeling put out because she had something very important to do today and her plans are being delayed because a certain someone isn't here."

And just as their friends start reassuring and ribbing her in equal parts Percy's phone rings. With a frown he pulls it from his pocket, as he gets up and waves to say he'll be back in a minute.

"Hello, this is Percy Jackson."

He's not paying attention to his surroundings as he listens to the person on the line so when his shoulder slams into somebody he almost topples to the ground. When he turns around to say sorry there is nobody there; his frown only deepens but then the voice on the phone is pulling his attention and he makes his way outside.

This is story about they meet.

The conversation is a whirl of information about his upcoming course and what his supervisor needs from him. By the time he ends the call and tucks the phone back in his pocket his whole body feels like it's taken on the sky all over again. He has the urge to check if another grey streak has graced his hair. Instead he leans against the wall, ignoring the way his clothes catch against its roughness. He can feel the cold seeping through the cracks in the brick and into the threads of his sweatshirt.

He looks down, pulling his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep the warmth in but as he takes his arms away from the wall he sees the frost outline of his fingers. A clear, already melting handprint marking the brick like a graffiti tag. He steps back, away from the wall, to find his whole body outlined. It reminds him eerily of the chalk markings they do at murder investigations. He's not entirely sure this isn't prophetic.

The frost, little beads of ice skittered in shape, is melting at a rapid rate but the colour catches Percy's eye. It's not the usual dulled, muddy ice that coats his windows in the morning and sits atop the grass each night. It is blue, bright and pure, and looks... happy?

He's definitely going insane. The lack of coffee is getting to his brain and he has officially going mad. He should go inside and get warm and sit with his friends and have 3 espresso shots in a row.

But the phone call is still rattling his nerves and he can't bare to face the café without all his wits about him. So he studies the melted frost outline, curiosity moving him forward to trace it with his fingers. He doesn't expect to feel cold like winter mornings and snowball fights and sleigh rides coursing through his bloodstream. It's shocks him right into a new state of being. It reminds him of a poem his mother used to say at the beginning of each winter. The poem was long enough that he was always asleep by the end of the last verse but he recalls the first part clearly now

Jack Frost was in the garden;

I saw him there at dawn;

He was dancing round the bushes

And prancing on the lawn.

He had a cloak of silver,

A hat all shimm'ring white,

A wand of glittering star-dust,

And shoes of sunbeam light.

The thought is so ridiculous Percy has to laugh. It bursts out of him unexpectedly but once he starts he cannot stop. It feels like the world has turned on its side but he's still walking upright. Everything is slightly dizzying but strangely amusing from this angle. He laughs harder, ribs aching, cheeks stiff, and eyes bright. He's sure people are staring at him like he's mad but he cannot stop. Until he stumbles over the pavement and is falling to the inevitable crunch of his facial bones.

It happens almost in slow motion. He sees the ground coming towards him, bubbling up like it's going to swallow him whole. He stared it down, refusing to close his eyes, as if challenging it to hurt him, to take him as he goes. But then hands, freezing cold even through his layers of clothing, wrap around his waist and he is being hauled up in a rush of wind and dizzying speed. He bumps into a hard chest and feels as if he's stepped into a freezer.

"Hey," A voice low and playful crackles through him, "You okay?"

He turns around slowly, and is not at all prepared for the site he is greeted with. There is so much all at once, startling and glowing and fracturing. His eyes catch an warm icy gaze, blizzard white hair, pale skin, cold-kissed lips, hands running with blue veins and silver rings.

"You okay?" The stranger repeats, looking at him with concern.

He honestly doesn't know if he has the ability to talk. His mouth opens, his throat bobs, but words are lost cargo.

"Can you hear me?" The stranger asks, accompanying the question with sign language.

Percy responds automatically, raising a fist and moving it back and forth; his head accompanies the action but still no words come out.

They smile at him, and start signing another question. He doesn't bother to stop them, tell them they aren't deaf, he can hear, he just can't talk. He's speechless.

Are you okay? They sign.

He nods, and the words stuck in his throat finally tumble out. "Yes, yes," It is croaky with overwhelming emotion, "Thank you for catching me. I’m sorry I uh—" He doesn't have any respectable excuse for being mute for the entire first half of their interaction. He is just completely struck by everything the stranger is.

"Ah so you can hear me," The stranger laughs. He decides the sound is what makes stars. "Well I'm glad you're okay. I'm Jack."

Percy snorts. This cannot be real. Ice, him thinking about Jack Frost, and suddenly his saviour's name is jack? What has the universe been doing with its time to plan this?

“I'm Percy," He stares at them curiously studying the snowflakes that seem to cling to their floppy white hair despite the snow season being weeks away, and the blue eyes that hurtle him to the Abraham lake in Canada. A holiday his family had taken a mere year ago and one of the most beautiful places he's ever seen.

His demigod senses are peeking out their window, as curious as he is. The action puts him on high alert. His instincts are usually only alerted when he's in danger or............. in love.

"What are you?" He cannot stop the question. His mouth has a self-controlled function and no way to override it.

Jack raises their brow, "What are you, Percy?" His name sounds like luxury rolling off the stranger's tongue.

But the question throws him off guard and before he has time to drool over them again he is pulling his pen out and twirling it between his fingers anxiously. "Are you here to kill me?"

That barks a laugh from Jack, who looks so entirely amused he can't help but wonder if he can frame the moment to keep with him forever; a brow quirked, a slight dimple on their right cheek as their smile grows, and bunched freckles as their nose scrunches slightly.

"Get a lot of assassination attempts do you?"

“You have no idea," He feels his eyes roll in annoyance, an automatic reaction after all these years.

"No Percy," Jack says softly. It brushes across his skin like cool paint and snowy pine leaves. "I am here because the moon told me to be."

"The moon?" He sputters, "What do you mean the moon?"

"I mean exactly that. I talk to the moon and it answers."

He can feel his legs grow weak. "The moon— the moon— the....... moon," He mutters, staring at Jack.

They are silent as he attempts to compartmentalize his thoughts. "You know what?" He finally speaks, "That's not the weirdest thing I've ever heard. The children of Demeter talk to grain so this isn't that far out of reach."

Jack just looks at him with a patient, gentle smile on their face.

"So what are you? A child of Selene?"

"I am not a demigod." They shake their head. "I was chosen by the moon three hundred years ago. I am the spirit of winter."

The silence stretches between them like taffy. He isn't sure he's heard this right.

"You're—" He cannot even bring himself to say it.

"Yes, I'm Jack Frost."

Percy's legs give our from under him. Jack is not quick enough to catch him but he lands on a pillow of snow right before he bruises his knees. "You're Jack Frost?"

"Yes. And you are Percy Jackson."

"How—how do you know?"

"I've been alive for a very long time. I know a lot of people."

He just hums, trying to wrap his head sound another layer of myth and fable that makes up the fabric of the world.

"Why are you here?" He finally gutters out. "I mean I know the moon told you to come but why?"

"I uh have a theory but I need to ask something of you in order to know if I'm right."

He frowns, staring up at the stranger. No not stranger. Can you even call someone who's been around for centuries a stranger? What are they a stranger to? They have seen and heard and learnt and loved more than he ever has or ever will. It's more like he is the stranger. "What do you need me to do?"

"I just need you to summon water for me."

A thousand questions sit like caught snowflakes on his tongue but he let's them melt instead of spilling them into the world. Instead he gets up and concentrates on all the water sources surrounding them.

A reservoir one hundred miles away, fire hydrants near bursting with unused pressure, a small pond in a small park about five miles south, and of course the ocean in front of them, no more than fifty miles within reach.

"How much do you need?"

"Give me fifty liters."

He closes his eyes and imagines the pond, the water rippling within it. He imagines holding it in his palm as he would a basketball ball. When he feels a cool sensation wash over his skin he opens his eyes once more and sees a swirling blob of water surrounding his hand, dancing to the beat of his pulse.

"Is this enough?"

"Plenty," They smile and then their hands are reaching out and as if the water knows they're calling to it, it bounces over in little bubbles. As it touches their fingers a ray of light bursts from the contact and it turns to ice. Jack sucks in a breath, watching in amazement as the water freezes and hits the ground in a flurry of snow.

"What?" Percy cannot hold in his curiosity any longer. "What is it?"

"The moon was right." They look at him, eyes sparkling with something more than awe or curiosity.

"About?" He prompts.

"We're soulmates."

This is a story about their destinies.

"We're what?" Percy whispers. He has never gotten loud when he was surprised or angry or sad. He has always been soft.

"I usually need my staff to solidify water but if I use elements touched by my soulmate I can do it without aid."

"This is ridiculous!" He sputters. There is absolutely no way this is real. Seriously? Soulmates? He would laugh if he wasn't so outraged.

"You don't believe in soulmates?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe in!" He growls, "This whole ordeal is completely insane."

"What would it take to convince you Percy Jackson?" Jack just smiles, it is shining with happiness like it hadn't before.

"I have no idea because I have never heard of or encountered a soulmate." He hisses.

"Do you know why you can see me?"

He shakes his head, thoughts swirling faster than the hurricanes his further looses.

"Because you believe in me."

"I thought you had control over who sees you and who doesn't?" He raises a brow.

"Only with children. I can choose to show myself whether they believe or not. I have the ability since enough of them do believe." They say. "But adults are different. If they don't believe I cannot make myself appear to them. I am simply a ghost of their childhood past."

"I don't understand." Percy cannot wrap his mind around this. "How do you know you can only make ice out of whatever water I touch?"

Jack looks around for a brief moment before catching sight of something behind them. In a split second they are there and then they're back.

"Watch," He pours the water from the bottom he'd nabbed over his hand. It falls to the floor as liquid as it had started out.

"That doesn't prove anything, how do I know you're not just making sure you don't turn it to ice?"

"I cannot touch anything without freezing it, especially water." They worry at their bottom lip with their teeth, thoughts flying across their face. "It's like your friend Leo." They nod their head towards the café where Percy can still see his friends snuggled into the booth. "He doesn't necessarily turn everything he touches to ashes but he will always leave a warm imprint no matter how or what he has touched."

"How do you know that?" He gapes.

"Immortality gives you a lot of time to know the world." They shrug. "Now do you believe me?"

"I don't know." He answers truthfully. "I mean if we are soulmates..." He tries to form the question into some semblance of sense and order. "Does that mean I'm tied to you? That we have to like I don't know get married and spend eternity together?"

"No," Jack says gently, "No you can deny this bond if that is how you feel. It does not mean anything except that the universe put our souls in the same constellation. We are free to pick and choose who we love."

“And how will it work if we do decide to get together?” He frowns, “I will age but you will always stay the same.”

They look at him, head tilted, ice eyes bright. “But you know that’s not true.”

Everything in him barrels forward like a tidal wave. It cannot be. No-one knows. Not even his mother. “What isn’t true?” He will play this carefully, like the strings of a harp. He will not let his life crash through the ground.

“Why are you hiding it?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” He is adamant in his stance. He will not bow.

“You are denying the life you chose.” Jack considers him. “Why?”

“I’m not denying anything.” He huffs, “I’m just taking it slow.”

A snort bursts of them, arrogant and amused. “You are taking becoming a God slow?”

“I want to live with my friends before they figure it out!” He cries, all the fear and terror and worry burning through him.

Jack moves closer, presses a cold hand to his shoulder. “It is okay to be scared and angry and worried but do not forget that you are worthy of the title and you should wear it like a crown, not a burden.”

“There is always some burden in this much power.” He is bitter. He is right.

“Come,” Jack pulls them together, “Go meet your friends.” The hug is so cold but comforts him to the bone. “And when you are ready to make a decision, just whisper my name and i will answer, no matter where i am, or how far apart we are.”

He studies the person before him, beautiful and strange in an inviting sort of way, like no matter how much he learns about them he'll always want to know more. "Well you are very pretty."

They laugh, and the sound lights up the ocean inside him. "Thank you."

“Live Percy Jackson.” Jack Frost whispers.

And then Percy is standing outside a café, an icy wind dancing between his fingertips, and the impression of a freezing hug still clinging to his clothes. He realizes he feels happy. He feels safe.

This is a story about their love.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[image id: a poem by John P Smeeton titled "Jack Frost in the Garden" the poem reads:

Jack Frost was in the garden;// I saw him there at dawn;// He was dancing round the bushes// And prancing on the lawn.// He had a cloak of silver,// A hat all shimm'ring white,// A wand of glittering star-dust,// And shoes of sunbeam light.

Jack Frost was in the garden,// When I went out to play// He nipped my toes and fingers// And quickly ran away.// I chased him round the wood-shed,// But, oh! I'm sad to say// That though I chased him everywhere// He simply wouldn't stay.

Jack Frost was in the garden:// But now I'd like to know// Where I can find him hiding;// I've hunted high and low —// I've lost his cloak of silver,// His hat all shimm'ring white,// His wand of glittering star-dust,// His shoes of sunbeam light"

the background is a light blue and white marble. end id]

Tags: @fantasylover16 @queen-of-demons-and-hell @nishlicious-01​ @leyontheway @caffeinated-croissant

[pizza-soup]

Sorry I've been missing in action.

Long story short I got very injured at the labs, but I've been making a fast recovery. For the more detailed, graphic version, you can read below. Warning: Mention of hospital, blood, car accident.

As I mentioned, I got really injured at work beginning on February 21 at around 9 PM. It was during a routine check at some of the sites, one in particular needed our higher clearance because there had been a breach at a fence that past week, so I, and two other guards went to check out any tampering of the fence again. They say it might be vandals but a lot of them say it was some kind of large animal. The road to those sites are a single path through the woods, lit with a few lights, no curves, just a flat road with a hill on one side. It hadn't snowed that week either, so no fear of ice or anything. It was just a routine jeep trek.

It happened so fast. Our vehicle was knocked over, I'm not even sure how, but we were rolling in the dark down a hill, hitting trees. I remember the shouting, holding fast, and the glass. I remember crawling toward a tree and trying to sit up against it or maybe I was put there by the other guard, Dolores, I remember her telling me to stay awake. I asked her if I was dreaming. It didn't feel real. I asked what was happening to me because I couldn't move right, everything felt so slow and muffled. I passed out by the time they got us into the medical ward. I don't remember them putting me in a gown or putting in an IV. I woke up later, I buzzed the call button out of fear and pain. My whole left side was throbbing. A nurse was relieved I finally came to. She gave me pain meds and called the doctor in.

I was told there had been an accident, that much I already knew, but no one was killed, just injured. I lost a lot of blood, my uniform was soaked in it and they had to cut it off me. Part of the metal from the door frame folded in and pieced my left shoulder and I had minor cuts on my hands and arms from the glass. My blood pressure dropped so low they were scared my heart might've stopped. I was given blood, hooked up to a lot of things and I would have to stay under watch for a few days. There was a lot of tests they needed to do to figure out just how bad my injuries were.

For the next few days I was just sleeping, I couldn't sit up without feeling dizzy. I had to lay semi flat, my blood pressure was still very low. My left side was still throbbing and the stitches itched. A lot of bruises developed from being tossed around like I was, mostly on my arms because I was shielding my face and head. My minor glass cuts stung while batheing. Nurses came in every few hours to check my vitals, help me use the restroom, shower, help me eat, ect. I got so tired from the smallest things. I couldn't call anyone, my phone was in my locker. I finally got someone to help me call my brother to tell him what happened. My brother was naturally scared, he thought something happened to me and he was sad to know he was right. He wanted to see me, but he couldn't, I was in the medical ward on lab property. He wanted to call our mom to tell her but I told him to wait, there was a possibility that I might be transferred to a local hospital where they can visit me, and I didn't want her panicking and trying to drive up here in bad weather. It's best she waited til things cleared up.

After the first week I was transferred to a local hospital after getting a bunch of tests done. No brain trauma, no broken bones, no blood sugar issues or thyroid problems. I could sit up in bed by then and eat on my own. I still couldn't walk very well without feeling really dizzy, again, low blood pressure. A lot of minor bruises were fading away. I never had my anemia officially confirmed, but they confirmed it and had me take daily iron and placed on a blood building diet in the new hospital. I was tested for covid, I came out clear.

My brother and mom visited me daily, and the other doctor said I was recovering really quickly, that gave us a lot of hope. I could be out of there by a few days, though my blood pressure was worrying her. Seems it wasn't so much the blood loss, but that it might have been an underlying condition already linked to my untreated anemia. She would get the in-house dietitian to include a bit more natural sea salt to my iron rich diet, as well as tell me what I should eat at home and that I need to drink a lot more water than I normally did. This is a problem I've had for awhile, I forget to drink enough water. The doctor warned me I better remedy that immediately especially with low BP. My mom was already taking notes. She really wanted to just take me home already. I really liked her being there, I'm not that shy about my body, but I honestly felt better having my mom bathe me and comb my hair instead of strangers doing that. She was also a lot more gentle around my stitches and bruises.

Eventually I did come home, I still needed a lot of rest and help getting out of bed. I had to fight the urge to clean house, help with groceries, ect. I'm so used to being self sufficient. I felt so frustrated that just walking around the room would tire me out, when I'd hike for miles just a few months ago. I was tired of sleeping and sitting down. But there wasn't much else I could do. I did a lot of origami, my bro got me a coloring book, I watched a lot of movies, took my iron -which is nasty btw-, ate meals that were saltier than I normally would prepare but my taste buds would have to adjust. I was happy my new diet included a lot of fish though.

I did have some close calls. I really thought I could stand up in the shower instead of sitting, and wound up calling for my mom to help me up after collapsing. I collapsed again when I was trying to cook dinner for myself. My face, according to my mom, was drained of color and my breathing was shallow. I felt so dizzy and nauseated. She nearly wanted to call the hospital again. My bro said I was pushing myself too hard and I always had a problem with not asking for help. That I needed to learn to stop being so damn stubborn and rest. To anyone else, that sounds harsh, but he knows me way too well, probably better than our mom. I do have that problem, I do push myself too much. After that, I decided to be more patient with myself. I was sick and might be sick for awhile.

This week I'm doing a lot better. I can do my daily things now, I even went to get groceries and take a little walk to the river. But I can't over do it, I can't stand up or walk for too long, and I can't lift anything heavy, otherwise I get bouts of dizziness and need to sit down. The pain isn't as bad on my back anymore though it's still very sore, my arms, especially my left side, have a dull pain. I can't sleep on my back and left side, only my right and on my stomach. A lot of the cuts on the back of my arms and hands have scabbed over, minor bruises are gone but major ones on my shoulder and neck are still pretty dark and tender. I'm still finding glue spots on my chest and stomach from the medical tape and the EKG patches they put on me, but a bit of lotion is taking it off. My stitching, according to my mom, is definitely going to leave a pretty bad scar above my shoulder blade, but it's fine. My body has a lot of scars here and there from close calls, but I consider them ' Marks of Life'. They're proof I survived and thrived.

It'll take time for me to really feel like I'm back to normal. My mom refuses to go back home until I make a full recovery. She hasn't tended to me like this for a long time, mainly because I rarely get sick. I trait from my dad's side. We don't get colds or flus for years, no history of cancer, heart issues or diabetes, and his family usually remain active to their elderly years, not to mention our graceful aging. My dad used to say it was our native blood, we're just built tougher. The only thing that could kill us is getting injured like this. God, he'd be so worried about me though. I remember how he'd fuss over me when I skinned my knee as a child or got my allergies. If he was alive, he'd probably refuse to let me do anything out of bed, but then that's exactly what I should be doing anyway.

I got a report on the other guards health yesterday. Dolores and Elijah. She was the least hurt out of all of us, just a dislocated arm, mild whiplash, and some really bad glass cuts on her chest and arms, she's home recovering with her husband and kids. Elijah was the driver and got knocked unconscious with a bad concussion, his entire left arm was sliced by glass and metal, he lost a lot of blood like me and is recovering just as slow as I am. He opted to stay in the lab medical ward because he doubts his roommate can care for him at home, he's on a lot of pain meds, so he sounded distant on the phone. I think out of all of us, he's going to take the most time to recover. I told him I'd pray for him and if he wants, I can visit. He appreciated that a lot. I thanked Dolores for helping us that night, she was the one trying her best to keep us alive and sent the distress signal on our ARK devices so they could find us in the dark. Without her, I think we would've bled to death.

God, it feels like a distant nightmare. I still can't figure out how we were knocked off the road like that. Something hit us out there and it was strong. I felt the impact in the backseat, but I didn't see it. Dolores says it looked like a bear, but bears aren't that strong. Eli says he saw horns, so maybe a bison. Bison are that strong, especially against a little jeep. The incident is still under investigation. The lab is also very concerned about how this happened. It's possible the same thing that hit us, has been tampering with the fence.

One less thing to worry about is the hospital bill, the accident happened on lab grounds, everything is taken care of through them, probably because they don't want to get sued. They are giving us another two weeks before we report back in to the doctor for another round of tests and physical tests, as well as check to see if my stitches were still secure. Our return to work solely depends on our results, we may not be able to come back until late April. They really want to be sure we're okay. Because I'm an 'Ophanim' aka Tier 3 guard, I'll also be given a mental test before being hooked back into Selene. They just want to be sure there's no cognition issues and I can sync properly to her. I may have to do a refresher since I've been away for so long, but I'll worry about that when it comes.

Well, if you read this far, thanks. I hope I didn't scare you all too much. I am doing a lot a better though, I promise. I'm getting stronger everyday, though activity on this blog will be slow. Send me some prayers, good vibes, whatever. I'd really appreciate anything. Hope you've had a good month, better than mine hopefully.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @hedwigstalons

to @lenle-g

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

“Merry Christmas, John.”

"Merry Christmas, Eos."

Eos’ camera unit tracked his progress through the gravity ring towards the small section that passed as a kitchen module.  He could tell just from the way her servos whirred that she wasn’t finished and the length of the pause gave a good indicator that she was puzzled.

"John?"

"Yes, Eos?"

"You sound...sad."

"I'm not sad, Eos, but I'm not really happy either."

"You sounded happy when you spoke to your family."

"That's good.  I don't want them worrying about me."

"Should they be worried about you?  You seem well.  All your vitals are registering in the normal range."

There was something touching about her gentle curiosity and John couldn't help but smile at how far she had come in terms of displaying sensitivity, but it was at times like these that the AI showed just how inhuman she was.  Much as he would like to brush it off and forget the whole situation he owed her an explanation, if only to further her education into the nuances of people.

"No, I'm fine, Eos.  But it would spoil their day if they thought I was missing them.  Just because I'm stuck up here doesn't mean they should hold back on the holiday spirit on my account."

"So you lied to them."

"I didn't lie, I just didn't tell the whole truth."

"This is one of those human things, isn't it."

"Yes, Eos, it's a human thing."

It had taken a lot of effort to plaster on a smile and give a convincing act that, yes, he really was fine about spending Christmas up on Thunderbird 5.  If everything had gone to plan he would have been in the thick of it.  Calls would have been diverted to the island and global rescue agencies reminded the International Rescue was first and foremost a family unit.  Of course they would still respond to a request for help but courtesy dictated that for this one day only the direst of calls got sent their way.

John might grumble about the paper crowns, claim tinsel made him itchy or threaten to head back to the office when the inevitable pillow fight broke out between Alan and Gordon but they were his family and he would much rather be spending Christmas surrounded by the noise and chaos than alone.  Unfortunately, this year, alone was exactly how he was going to spend the holiday season.

"Eos, give me another readout on the coronal mass ejecta and electromagnetic radiation levels."

"The solar flare is continuing.  It is still inadvisable to use the space elevator."

It hadn't answered his request but she had given him the information he needed.  Eos really was getting better at understanding people and reading the subtext, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of her.

“Thank you, Eos.”  There was a whirr as she dipped her lens in a nod of understanding.  “Well, it looks like the emergency Christmas meal is going to come into play.”

By this point he had reached the kitchen module and he extracted from storage a small silver tray that looked just like all the other silver trays that provided the bulk of his nutrition up on the space station.  A small label proclaimed it to contain roast turkey and all the trimmings but he didn’t hold out much hope of it being any more appetizing than his usual bland fare, there was something about the preserving process along with the high levels of vitamin fortification in each meal that gave his food a unique, if not wholly pleasant, flavour.  The meals weren’t bad as such, but they weren’t good either.  Normally he appreciated being spared good ol’ home cookin’ with Grandma at the helm but you could guarantee that Christmas, along with Thanksgiving which he had also missed this year, was one of the occasions that everyone pulled together to make a meal worth eating.

Three minutes in the warmer and the meal was ready to eat.  He carried it through to his sleeping quarters and perched on the bunk before peeling off the lid that had so far kept all food smells sealed inside.  As soon as the seal was broken rich aromas filled the cabin.  If the smell was anything to go by then maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.  Unfortunately it still had the same greyish tinge and odd consistency as his usual staples but he’d survived on space rations for long enough to know that looks didn’t matter as long as it was edible.

Despite the tantalising smell it was with some trepidation that he picked up the first forkful.  Recreating the holiday meal was a challenge and one that Brains had only recently applied himself to.  If everything had gone to plan he wouldn’t even be having this meal now, he would be back on Earth with his brothers tucking in to the real thing and this, whatever it was, would have become just another food tray to grab when he fancied something different.

He gave the lump of grey a tentative nibble, paused to assess the flavour, then shoved the whole forkful in with enthusiasm.  It was delicious.  Okay, he would have preferred to be eating the real thing and to not have all the component flavors all jumbled together but if he concentrated he could tasted the turkey, the mashed potatoes, the gravy and all the other parts deemed essential to a Christmas roast.  Once again he was happy to declare that Brains was a genius.  He carried on eating until every single scrap had been scraped out of the tray, even going so far as to wipe a finger round the edges to get every last bit, before slotting the tray and lid into the disposal unit for recycling.

The rest of the afternoon was passed with an open comm link.  It was bittersweet being both there but not there as the family laughed and joked around his hologram but with calls still being set to extreme emergency only it wasn’t like he had much else to do, especially since Scott had commanded Eos to block any activities that might be construed as work.  Reports, inventories, maintenance, even reading for anything other than pure pleasure, of it was off limits.

Time ticked on and one by one the residents of Tracy Island drifted off to bed until only Scott was left having chivvied everyone along  with the reminder that they would all be back on standard duty in just a few short hours.  With that the guardian down on Earth flopped down on the couch for a few moments of quiet and turned to the guardian in the sky with a sigh.

“Well, we made it through the whole day.  Even that mudslide in Chile didn’t need our attention.”

“No.  Local rescue services managed it with zero fatalities.”

There was a shared look as though each dared the other to comment on their knowledge of the situation in Chile even though they technically weren’t meant to be working.  They both knew there would be no admonishment though, however much they might tell the others to step away from the day (and night) job, for the Commander and Space Monitor of International Rescue a ‘day off’ would always follow a different definition.

“That’s good to hear.  Are you sure you’re okay up there?”

“I’m absolutely fine Scott, the flare isn’t producing anything that would trouble Thunderbird Five.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”  Blue eyes held turquoise until, safe in the knowledge that this was just between the two of them, the lithe form in the hologram slumped a little.

“Of course I would have preferred to be there with you all.”

“I know, buddy,” there was a nod of understanding, “but we’ll get you down here as soon as we can.”

Both of them knew it wouldn’t quite be the same.  Neither of them realised quite how quickly they would get their wish to have John planetside.

***

It was around 3am Tracy Island time when John first realised something wasn’t quite right.  Scratch that, ‘wasn’t quite right’ did not do justice to the roiling, churning feeling in his stomach, the waves of nausea or the chilled sweat that had broken out all over him with accompanying shivers to round off the experience.

“Eos, increase the gravity to 1G,” he rasped out for as much as he he normally enjoyed keeping the living areas of Thunderbird Five at lower than Earth’s gravity, if his predictions of what the next few hours were going to entail proved true then low gravity was not the best environment to experience it in.  

There was a feeling of pressure as he settled slightly heavier against his bunk and the change did nothing to quell the feeling in this stomach.  A lurch and swoop inside him told him that the inevitable was about to happen.  Ordinarily John was the tidiest brother but he was incredibly glad that for once he hadn’t gotten around to stowing away the fresh uniforms that had been sent up on the last supply run.  It was the work of a moment to extract the box from under his bunk, unceremoniously tip the neatly folded stack of blue suits onto the floor and clutch the box to him.  He’d much rather deal with cleaning up the now rumpled pile of uniforms than his stomach contents.

Minutes ticked into hours and the feeling didn’t abate.  He huddled on his bunk, hunched over the box, his blankets pulled close over his shoulders.  Another spasm wracked his body and he added to the contents of the box.

“John, shall I alert your family?”

It was the third time Eos had asked that and for the third time John refused.  Alan had barely made it back in time for Christmas himself and while the young astronaut was technically cleared to fly again John would much rather his youngest brother racked up a few more hours of sleep.  Anyway, he wasn’t sure he could face a trip in Thunderbird Three just yet.

“Conditions are such that the space elevator is now operational.”

If such a thing were possible John could have kissed the AI at that moment but he settled for a weak nod instead.  There was a good reason why astronauts used to quarantine before every trip, illness in space was hard to deal with and while the advances in space travel meant that time and distance were no longer the barriers to medical aid that they used to be, a space station was still not a comfortable environment in which to ride out a sickness bug.

“In which case please tell them I’m on my way home.”

John left Eos to handle the necessary communications.  He really didn’t feel up to answering a stream of worried questions from his brothers, or worse, Grandma, and knew she would relay all the required information.  Instead he concentrated on hauling himself along to the space elevator, a journey that felt a thousand miles long to his weak and ravaged body.  The chills as he left the blankets behind made his body ache but he couldn’t manage both the blankets and the box and the box was still definitely needed.  Anyway, there was no way he could leave that up there to fester.

The space elevator posed it’s own challenges.  The reclined seat, normally so comfortable for dealing with the rapid transit back to Earth and designed for optimal safety, was not an appealing prospect for someone still prone to bouts of vomiting which, while abating, hadn’t finished completely.  He hoped he could make it through the journey unscathed but he kept a few bags in his hands just in case, knowing that the restraints would stop him from using his now well-loved box.

***

The docking clamps engaged with their usual reassuring thuds and John breathed out a slight sigh of relief, his stomach had behaved for the duration of the journey and for that he gave thanks to any deity that might be listening.  

Ordinarily he would be out of the seat the moment the harness disengaged but hauling himself upright felt too much effort.  He wasn't left in peace for long though before strong and comforting arms were scooping him up, one set on either side.

"Come on, let's get you to the infirmary and check you over."

He turned a weak smile on Virgil, for once agreeing that the infirmary was the best place for him.  

As he was led away by Scott and Virgil he vaguely registered Alan and Gordon hovering by the doors of the space elevator, mops and buckets at the ready, and he wondered quite how bad a picture Eos had painted of the situation.  That was a conversation for another day though, for now he just wanted bed, fluids and probably a clean box.

***

Four days he was stuck in infirmary.  Four long and tortuous days punctuated by rehydrating fluids that only tasted marginally better on the way down compared to their inevitable journey back up.  It was no comfort, when he was finally allowed out into the wider villa to continue his convalescence on the couch, that Virgil explained he had got away with a mild dose.  A mild dose of what, he wondered.

Salmonella, it turned out.  It was a very sheepish Brains who confessed that something in the new flavourings had compromised the preserving process and the tastiest space meal he had eaten in a long time was actually the case of all this trouble.

Despite now being able to keep down plain toast (as long as it wasn’t cremated by Grandma) he was still feeling as weak and washed out as a kitten.  He didn’t even put up a fight when Virgil said he was going to be kept Earth side until at least the new year.  He was quite happy to stay on the island even if life had returned to its usual frenetic whirl of rescues, there was something incredibly restorative about being in the midst of it all with his family around him and within a week of his return he was back running dispatch from his cocoon of blankets in the lounge.  It would be a little while before he would be fit to return to normal duties, salmonella poisoning had done a number on him despite the main physical symptoms passing in a matter of days, but he was getting there.

***

Over three weeks had passed since John’s rapid and unplanned reunion with his family and he was starting to feel the call of space.  John loved his family, he really did, but he’d just about reached his limit of unexpected noises, stolen snacks and impromptu hugs.  Unfortunately his plans to make an escape seemed to be thwarted at every turn.

“Look Virgil, I’m fine.”  There was a non-committal grunt as Virgil checked his temperature and heart rate for what felt like the 400th time.  “Take me out to Gran Rocha if you must and put me through my paces, there is nothing wrong with me now.”

Evidently the medical evidence was on John’s side because the engineer come medic stopped running tests and instead trotted out one of the many other excuses he’d heard more than once.  “We still need to restock Five.  There is a chance that other meals in that batch were contaminated and we cannot risk a repeat event.”

John was in full agreement on that one.  “I know and the new batch has been ready for at least the last three days,” Virgil opened his mouth as though he were about to interrupt, “I asked Brains.”  Virgil’s mouth closed again.  “I’ve also spoken to Alan and the next time he’s racked enough downtime he’s happy to take me and the food up in Three.  And if that doesn’t happen any time soon I’ll just take whatever I can fit in the elevator and you can send the rest on later.”

Virgil knew he was beaten.  Unless John had a fairly firm date for his return (barring rescues of course and there was no way he was going to stage a fake emergency to occupy Thunderbird Three) Virgil estimated they had maybe three days before John made good on his promise to just hop in the elevator with whatever food he could cram into a bag.

As soon as John had left the infirmary and Virgil was confident he was out of earshot he activated his comm, sending out an Island wide broadcast that excluded one grumpy astronaut.

“How are we doing guys?  John’s about ready to bust out of here.  Any chance of us being ready for tomorrow?”

“Well, we’re still missing some of the fresh stuff…” there was a note of concern in Scott’s voice.  He hated to admit it but a flurry of rescues meant they were behind schedule.

“I’m on it,” cut in Kayo, “just tell me what we need.  He won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Safe in the knowledge that the sneakiest Thunderbird would take care of the missing items the island residents each gave the affirmative that all other aspects were taken care of, or would be as long as John was kept out of certain areas.  A final itinerary was cobbled together and everyone kept their fingers crossed that the plan would be carried off without a hitch.

***

John woke a little later than usual, possibly due to the gaming session Alan had dragged him into that seemed to have lasted for hours.  He’d only ventured into his youngest brother’s bedroom to confirm his ride back to the office but by the time he got to leave, slightly stiff from being sat glued to a controller for so long, the only place he was going was back to his own bed.  He’d tried to escape a few times but every time he'd checked in with Eos she had just confirmed that all was quiet and there was no need to stop his game, prompting Alan to load another level.  He made a mental note to have a word to her about interpreting tone and teaching her the cues so she could distinguish a request for information from a plea for a cover story.

Barring the usual disclaimer that rescues would take priority, Alan was booked to take him back to Five the following day.  Now he knew where he stood he felt a lot better about the whole situation and wondered how best to use his last day on the island.  His plan was to grab a light breakfast, maybe recheck the supplies list of what he would be taking back up, then have a quick swim provided Gordon had vacated the pool and the risk of a ducking was ruled out.

His plans didn’t quite work out.

As soon as he entered the kitchen he was greeted with a maelstrom of sounds and smells.  Warm sugar and cinnamon competed with roasting turkey, Christmas carols assaulted his ears and he scratched futilely at his neck as it became adorned by a swathe of tinsel draped gleefully there by Gordon.  Everyone had clearly been waiting for his arrival and much as he might have objected to the idea had he known about it, it left him with a warm and fuzzy feeling knowing that his family were prepared to go to such lengths for him.

“Merry Christmas, John,” Scott greeted him, shoving a plate of warm cookies under his nose.  “Seeing as you got such a rough deal we decided to have a rerun.”

“With minimal risk of food poisoning,” Gordon chimed in before adding in a stage whisper, “it’s okay, we kept Grandma out of the kitchen.”

It looked like everything had been thought of to ensure he didn’t miss out on a proper Tracy family Christmas.  Once breakfast had been completed and the gathering had moved upstairs he found that even the lounge had been festooned in decorations that he knew had been put back into storage; evidently Eos did know how to provide a cover story after all.

It might seem slightly nuts to try and eat a full turkey roast in tropical heat, it was probably a misappropriation of International Rescue resources to take an unnecessary trip to Norway just to make sure John could have the real tree he’d always loved but hadn’t had for years, but to see the smile on John’s face it was definitely worth it.

[bakubabes-tatakae]

(I think i just want him to use his brain cells and also explaining it to his S/O cuz i like how you write those) sasuke didnt entirely believe what Obito was telling him. It didnt matter that he claimed to know itachi so well. His mangekyo sharingan reacting to obito like that was enough to at least make him doubt the truth behind obitos words. (Idk where to help you take this)

I hope you like it. 😊❤

He Was Wrong || Sasuke x Reader

AO3 Link

Word Count: 1.5k

The door to the house that Sasuke and you shared slammed against the wall as it opened. You jumped from your place on the couch. You slowly grabbed one of the many kunai that Sasuke had hidden around the house and stood. There was no way that that was Sasuke, he would never have come in so abruptly. But your mind wandered as you thought about how long he had been gone...

You slid behind the wall that separated your living room from your kitchen where the front door stood. Slowly, you moved toward the edge of the wall, positioning yourself just in front of the mirror. The reflection showed the front door was shutting and as the door clicked shut the reflection of the raven-haired man shown. The kunai was returned to its place on the table and you moved quickly to the kitchen.

Sasuke was a mess. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Concern washed over you as you reached out for him. As his eyes met yours you saw nothing but the pain in them. “Sasuke, what happened?”

Sasuke waited a long time before finally speaking. “He’s gone Y/n.”

“Who Sasuke?”

You saw him cringe a little as he struggled to get the name out. “Itachi. I took care of him.”

The words that came from him sent a shiver down your spine. Sasuke had been talking about getting rid of his brother for so long, but you never thought that he would have the nerve to actually do it. Sasuke stepped forward, nearly falling into you. You wrapped him into your arms. “Sasuke, what the hell happened out there?” That’s when you saw the bandages under his shirt. “Sasuke...” You started to move the shirt from his shoulder and as you did you saw how far down the bandages went. They wrapped around his stomach as well. You repeated your question for him, the demand for an answer a little sharper this time. “What the hell happened out there?!”

He slowly leaned back and took the shirt from his torso, showing you everything. Cuts and bruises layered his skin, the worst of them covered up by the bandages that made you uneasy as you looked at them. “They’re from my fight with Itachi. I’m alright tho. A man took me in after my fight and bandaged me up. He told me that he only brought me in so that he could talk to me. But what he said to me made no sense.”

You took a deep breath. You had no idea what he had meant, but you were happy to listen. “What did he say Sasuke?”

“He was wrong. He had to be...”

“About what?”

Sasuke rambled on. “There’s no way, my whole life I’ve believed otherwise. It’s not true.”

“Sasuke Uchiha!” He snapped to attention as he heard his name. “What did he tell you?”

“The masked man claimed to be Madara Uchiha, but there’s no way it was him.” Sasuke was distraught. His words were so fast you could barely keep up. “He took off his mask to show me who he was, but as soon as he claims that my Mangekyo activated Amaterasu. The black flames coated him and everything. He claimed that it was Itachi’s doing. He said Itachi set a trap in my Sharingan so that when I saw his it would kill him.” 

“The man who claimed he was Madara said that if Itachi had known everything about him then the Amaterasu would have claimed his life. This man said that Itachi transferred his Amaterasu to me to protect me. Why would he do that?”

You took Sasuke’s hand into yours, holding onto it while the Uchiha shook. You could barely believe what you were hearing, you could only imagine the things going through Sasuke’s head right now. But you listened, letting him tell you everything before offering any words. 

“It’s impossible Y/n. He never wanted to protect me.” His grip on your hand grew so tight that it shot pain up your arm. You ignored it the best that you could. “He tried to kill me. He tried to steal my eyes. I fought back, I didn’t even want to hear it, but I was too weak from my fight. The man tied me up and forced me to listen.”

He looked up from the floor at you, his eyes pleading for some kind of reassurance. Reassurance that he had done the right thing. You placed a hand on his cheek and let it sit there, the touch seeming to calm his anxiety a little. “Itachi was my enemy, he killed my mother and father. He slaughtered our whole clan. This man tried to tell me that Itachi was ordered by the Hidden Leaf to kill us. Why would they do that? He didn’t even have any evidence to show me. Doesn’t that mean it can’t be true?”

The fight that was going on inside Sasuke’s head was a bad one. He wanted it to be true, he wanted to think that Itachi had done it all for him, but his brain told him that it was wrong. His brain told him that his heart was soft and that he needed to think about the facts. 

“This man told me Madara’s story. He said that the whole village outcast him. Said the ANBU were given strict orders to watch the Uchiha closely and that’s why we were located on the outskirts of the village. The Hidden Leaf supposedly had a spy without the ranks to watch us, he said that it was Itachi.” Sasuke shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “Apparently my father was the mastermind behind it all. He said that Itachi was relaying messages to the village when the Uchiha thought it was the other way around. Why would Itachi betray the Uchiha?!”

Sasuke took your hand from his face and placed his hands on your waist, needing to feel you near him. He pulled you toward him some, wrapping you into his arms. “He said that if Itachi hadn’t killed the clan then a revolt would have happened. He said that the Village Hidden in the Mist and the Land of Fire would have both suffered. Itachi chooses to bear the burden of murdering his whole clan and become a criminal. He bore the weight of becoming a rogue ninja. All of it was part of his mission.”

As more and more came from Sasuke you found it harder and harder to keep quiet. You wanted to stop him. You wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright. “The man said that the only mistake he made that night on his mission was not killing me. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Itachi went to the Hokage and told him that if he didn’t protect me from Danzo and others than he would leak all the intelligence that he had on the Hidden Leaf. He begged the Hokage to make sure that I would never find out the truth. He said that from the moment he left the village he was determined to fight me, to train and be as strong as he could be.”

His voice rose as he backed away from you, heading toward the kitchen counter. He leaned against it as he watched the moon outside the window. “He was lying! He had to be! Itachi tried to kill me many times. He even used the Mangekyo Sharingan on me. There’s no question he was trying to kill me!”

“Itachi had always told me that it was Madara’s doing. He had always told me that he was the one that sent the Nine-Tails to destroy the village. Madara and Itachi worked together to put false charges against the Uchiha! They worked together to mess with our clan. The man claimed that Itachi fed me lies so that I wouldn't trust him if I ever met him. Itachi was a criminal that murdered our clan and became an Akatsuki!” 

“When Itachi came into the village after the death of the third Hokage he said that it was only to remind Danzo that he was still alive and still a threat. He said he wanted to make sure that he didn’t come after me. Everything he said was a lie Y/n!” He turned to face you again, tears staining his cheeks. “But he didn’t kill me...”

You stepped in front of him as you saw his knees giving out. Sasuke let himself slid down the counter, sitting on the floor in front of you. His emotions finally taking over him. “I don’t care how well that man claims to know Itachi. There’s no way he would have been able to do all that and fool me.”

You slowly sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He rested his head on your shoulder and you could feel the tears dripping onto your exposed skin. “Sasuke, I’m so sorry.” You didn’t know what else to say to him at the moment. You knew that he just needed time to process all of this. You placed your hand in his hair, slowly running your hands through it. “I love you Sasuke, just know that.”

Sasuke turned into you, burying himself into your chest, muffling his cries as he finally lost all control. The Uchiha shook in your arms and all you could do was hold him tight. Keep him safe. Never let him think that’s he’s alone... especially now.

Naruto Content Taglist 💕 @chidori-mint @praisingkuroosbedhead @korianrdr @excitedlysuffering @ari-hatake15

[twokinkybeans]

The Arachnoids: ROCK BAND AU [Starker] - Chapter 6: HEADSTART HERO

READ “CHAPTER 6: HEADSTART HERO” ON AO3

Find the masterpost with all the chapters linked here!

Taglist: @crystallinecrimsonmoth​​​​ & @staticwhispersinthedark​​​​ (Let me know if you want to be added!)

-

Chapter 6: Headstart Hero

Peter knows exactly what it feels like to be standing in the crowd, anticipating the start of a show. The strange connection you feel with all these people that you’ve never met, the laughter, the chatter, the excitement coursing through your veins as you wait for the lights to finally dim.  Standing backstage holds the same kind of elation; yet it’s completely different. He too, is waiting for the lights to dim. Every time the lights flicker, every time the crowd makes a little more noise, he feels his heart skip a beat. It can’t be healthy to be so tense. His ribcage feels tight and he swallows. Peter tries to shift his guitar strap a little in the hopes of gaining some breathing space. Not that it helps of course, ‘cause it’s not the strap that restrains him.

Next to him, MJ and Ned are fighting equal battles with themselves. Playing for the New Year’s Eve show had been challenging enough, but somehow, this feels different. Like they’re gonna have to prove their worth. This is their chance to get their name out. To connect with potential fans. It’s overwhelming. Very, very much so.

It shouldn’t be long now, please, please don’t keep him waiting any longer. He-

The lights dim at last, and Peter is hit with the screams emerging from the crowd. Astonished, he knows he should jump to action right now. It’s almost as if someone else takes over his body when a broad smile plasters itself on his face and he runs into the stage lights.  “Welcome!” MJ laughs into her microphone. She looks absolutely stunning. Her aquamarine dress swirls around her loosely as she walks. Venus, for sure. “We are the inner concentric, the outer radial lineament, the spider-like volcano-tectonic structures from Venus. We have come to Earth to give you a hint of the whirling desire that is found on our planet. We are… The Arachnoids!”

Ned kicks off with a fast-paced rhythm, the deep vibrations of the bass drum tingling on Peter’s skin. Everything about this makes him feel so utterly hyped up. He lets his pick rain down on the strings, earlier nerves forgotten. His fingers glide over the notes so easily. The stage lights are blinding, but he knows how big the arena is. He knows exactly how many people are out there- watching him, cheering for him. 

He walks forward, dancing to MJ’s sweet harmony, and slides to his knees to get a break from the lights for a quick second. The group of young adults pressed against the front barrier raise their hands to him and scream. Peter’s eyes widen when he sees one of the girls is wearing a bright-pink tee with ‘The Arachnoids’ written on it with a black marker. He grins widely at her and winks. The girl instantly tears up and brings her hands together in a heart-shaped symbol. “I love you, Peter!” She mouths excitedly.

Peter can’t help the stunned chuckle that rises from his chest and he stands up again, walking over to MJ while quickly waving to the girl in the crowd once.  Then, he turns around and leans against MJ, his head dropping backwards onto her shoulder. MJ plays along. She moves her hand up to ruffle through Peter’s hair as she keeps on singing through the high notes of the chorus. “And now we’re hoooo-hoooooome!”  Peter jumps away from her and bounces on the balls of his feet and moves his head along to the music. He runs towards the other side of the stage, giving the crowd a good show as he keeps playing with his instrument raised high in the air.

Somehow, his glance is pulled towards the small backstage area he can see from there. Tony’s seated on top of the transport cases again, watching the show intently. Peter can’t help feeling surprised at the fact that Tony’s here watching them play. 

Peter swallows when he realizes that his solo is coming up, the exact one Tony had given him the unsolicited advice about earlier today. He presses his lips together and makes the split-second decision to play it Tony’s way. He may not have practiced it yet, but he knows he can do it. He wants to. Why he wants to please Tony so badly is a mystery to him, but he doesn’t have time to think about it. That’s how he takes a few steps closer towards the edge of the stage and takes a deep breath. His fingers find their usual pattern, his pick hitting each snare perfectly- D-string, he reminds himself. Play the F on the D-string. 

And oh, Tony had been right. Peter flies through the solo so much easier than ever before. Endorphins release from his brain and make him feel nice and warm all over. He turns his head to look at Tony again. The man’s eyes are wide as he watches Peter play all the way through the solo with ease, and Peter wonders if the man had expected him to actually listen. Peter most certainly didn’t.

As soon as the solo ends, he breaks his gaze with Tony’s and resumes playing chorus’ rhythm, walking over to Ned who’s happily smashing on his drums. The new kit suits him perfectly. Peter has to suppress the urge to look at Tony again and he scoffs quietly to himself. He’s starting to get weirdly attached to the other guitarist. Asshole or not, there’s… something about the man and it’s inherently annoying to Peter. So, that’s why he refuses to look over even once for the rest of the show, and by the end of the set, he’s nearly forgotten that it even happened. 

Nearly.

-

“You guys were fantastic out there- Woah!” Harley laughs and pulls Peter into a tight hug. Peter chuckles, patting the other boy’s back in return. It’s a little awkward, with his guitar between them, but the intention is what matters most. “Thanks, dude!” Peter sighs happily and pulls back. He only then realizes how much his shirt is sticking onto his skin. “Ugh, I need a change of clothes.” Harley chuckles at that. “One month into this tour and you won’t even notice anymore,” he jokes. “We’ll all walk around smelling like shit- part of the fun, I say!” Peter laughs and shakes his head at that. Harley, in return, looks very pleased with himself.

“Hey, I gotta go switch the stage set-up- eh, tell MJ I’ll talk to her later?” Harley asks, leaning in a little as if he doesn’t want anyone else to hear it. MJ’s standing a couple of feet away from them, talking to Liz, one of the other roadies working on this tour. “Uhh, sure!” Peter answers, noticing the small blush that spreads on Harley’s cheekbones. The blonde grins and glances over at MJ once more before taking a step back. He finger guns at Peter and winks. “You’re a hero!”

Peter snorts, it’s adorable how clearly the boy is trying to get MJ’s attention. Not that he actually has to try very hard. MJ and Harley have been messaging each other every single day since the New Year’s Eve show. Sometimes they even facetime. Peter can tell that MJ is slowly starting to open up to the idea of Harley possibly liking her, but he’ll keep his mouth shut about it. She has to figure it out herself. In her own time. 

“Hero,” Tony scoffs from behind him. Peter has to actively keep himself from rolling his eyes at the remark and he turns around. “That’d be me,” he deadpans. Tony lets out a surprised laugh at that and Peter feels a stupid happy feeling emerging in his chest. No, he reminds himself. Don’t let him get to you. He doesn’t want to befriend the man so quickly. He might be less of a prick today, but that doesn’t mean he’s suddenly a kind presence to be around. He’s very much not that. “Space hero… Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” “I guess.” Peter eyes the man, unsure what he wants from him. Tony licks his lips once and tilts his head.

“So,” Tony starts slowly. “Seems my advice wasn’t that bad after all, mmh?” “I never said it was bad.” “But you didn’t like it.” “I didn’t ask for help, Tony.” Peter narrows his eyes a little, trying to read the man’s face. Tony’s deep brown eyes hold something so… Unexplainable. It’s no fragility, neither is it playful. It’s some weird mixture of every possible emotion out there. It makes it feel both very intense and deep, and closed-off at the same time. There’s so much to see that it’s impossible to know what’s truly going on. Peter sighs. “Unsolicited, but it worked. Yes. Thank you.”

“Ah,” Tony exclaims proudly and Peter instantly wishes he hadn’t said it. It’s irritating and he knows that whatever words Tony will speak next, it’s gonna be something cocky again. “When the student is ready, the teacher appears. Mmh, never thought it was true. When do we start your classes?” Peter huffs and looks away for a second.  “I’m not taking classes from you. I’m sure you got better things to do than waste your time on beginners like us.” Peter instantly regrets his words when he sees a flash of rejection on Tony’s face. The man straightens his shoulders, eyebrows furrowing together. Peter knows that whatever he said, it triggered the man’s jerkiness full force. “Fine, I’m just trying to be nice. But you’re right, Peter. I got better things to do,” Tony spits out and he stalks off.  “Fuck,” Peter mutters to himself. He messed up. Nice job, Parker. Keep going like this and you’ll find your ass on a plane back to New York first thing in the morning. He wishes he knew what had set Tony off so much, but at the same time, he can feel anger bubbling up inside him. It’s so utterly frustrating that Tony can’t handle anything without stomping his feet and throwing a tantrum. It’s not Peter’s problem. It’s not his issue to solve. “Go fuck yourself,” he mumbles quietly. Feeling annoyed with the fact that the whole, hazy feeling of post-concert bliss has shattered. 

“Hey Pete, we killed it out there!” Ned interrupts his thoughts as the drummer nudges his side. “And those fangirls in the front, can you fucking believe it? We got fans!” Ned’s enthusiasm instantly lightens Peter’s mood a little. Tension leaves his body and he grins widely at Ned. “We’re gonna be huge, Leeds. One day, I’m telling ya!” “Let’s toast to that, boys!” MJ chimes in and hands both of them a small bottle of water. Peter eagerly takes it from her hands and skews the cap off.

“You,” he says as he brings the bottle to his mouth, “-are a lifesaver.” “I know,” she smirks and chugs some water down as well. “Has anyone seen Harley? He said he’d see me after our set,” she then asks, voice wavering slightly. She cranes her neck to try and spot him. “He just hopped by, told me to tell you he’d see you later. Not sure what he was up to, but running ‘round as always,” Peter tells her. MJ seems pleased with the information that Harley told Peter to make sure she wouldn’t feel left behind. “Poor dude,” Ned mumbles. “I’m sure he doesn’t get paid even half of what he deserves.” “He loves the job, though,” MJ smiles. She tilts her head at Peter. “I saw you talking to Tony, by the way! He seemed nice today?”

Peter scoffs. “He sorta was, in his own way. But one wrong word and he turned all bitchy again.” “Ugh, there’s always some issue with him, isn’t there? Do you still wanna watch their set after that?” “Yes,” Peter answers. “They’re a good band. Who knows when we’ll be kicked off the tour, we should enjoy it while it lasts.” He tries to bring it jokingly but knows it sounds petty as fuck. Dammit, Tony sure brings out the worst in him.  “Yeah,” MJ smiles. “I vote we stay.” Peter simply nods and takes another big sip from the water and wipes the small stains of sweat from his forehead using his sleeve. He still feels low-key guilty about the whole encounter with Tony. The least he can do is watch the show and give them their support. He’ll have to try to ignore the nagging thoughts clawing at his mind. He can do that, he hopes.

-

Read the next chapter >> 7: Ice Cream Ignition

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Bonus Chapter 7

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 20,116

Chapter Rating: PG-13...ish! Me being the very easily flustered writer that I am, I can tell you right now that no OVERLY graphic sexy things happen and there is a fade to black at the end, so it is all still fairly tame. But still, there is a lotta sexy innuendo and talk of sexy, ahem… ITEMS. Just wanted to drop a heads up since the rest of my story up to this point has been fairly PG for the most part, so didn’t want to blind side anyone!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"Baby, all I want for Christmas is you."

Rayne stumbled a bit as she pushed the double stroller along, blowing out an amused little pft through her teeth. "Please, please tell me he did not actually say that!"

I sighed, hanging my head as I kept stride next to her, "He did. When I asked him for gift ideas, those were his exact words."

Anna erupted into laughter beside me, gripping my arm for support. "Dear lord, have I ever mentioned what a friggin' cliché, cheesy cornball your man is?"

"Not to mention no help at all," I grumbled, crossing my arms. "This is like Lea's birthday all over again. I mean, I know the stuff he likes, but honestly... what do you get for the man that buys everything and anything he wants for himself the second he sees it?"

"Don't worry, pumpkin," Rayne reached over to pat a comforting hand to my shoulder. "We wander around here long enough, something's sure to jump out at us eventually!"

"I hope so," I grimaced, not feeling so confident myself as we pressed onward through the crowded mall. I'd just gotten off my morning shift at the Ice Palace not too long ago and was still in my uniform minus the hat. It seemed I wasn't the only one who had to do some last minute holiday shopping, for that was the exact reason my sister and best friend had met up with me here as soon as I'd clocked out. With Christmas only a week away however, Dusk Town Center was understandably packed nearly to bursting. Merchandise was all but flying off the shelves in every store. Even if by some miracle I did manage to find the perfect gift here today, with my luck it'd probably be completely out of stock and backordered for months.

Gah, I shouldn't have kept putting this off for so long! But I had been racking my brain for weeks now for what to get him and had come up with zilch. Still had zilch. Ugh…

Last-minute-panicked-impulse-shopping don't fail me now!

Anna suddenly gasped and stopped walking. I took a few more steps before I slowed as well, glancing back at her with one eyebrow quirked. Her eyes weren't focused on me however as a slow grin spread across her face. "...what if we took Lea's words literally?"

Rayne and I exchanged a quick look. She shrugged, seemingly just as in the dark as I was. As mall traffic kept flowing unperturbed around us, my gaze settled on Anna once more and I snorted with a shake of my head, "What, you mean just put me under the tree gift-wrapped with a bow for Christmas morning?"

"Something like that, Sis," she giggled, suddenly latching on to my arm once more but now with a surprisingly strong grip.

Uh-oh… that impish gleam in her eye was making me nervous...

"Oh-ho, I see where she's going with this," Rayne sniggered before shifting the stroller over to be in front of me instead. "Here, take this." I blinked, my fingers automatically closing around the handlebar. Then she had seized hold of my other arm.

Oh gosh, her devilish little smirk was making me really, really nervous…

The ladies nodded at each other in unison in some unspoken agreement then without warning took off sprinting. I gasped and tripped over my own two feet, but managed to stay up right as I was dragged along with them. The sea of people parted for the stroller bearing two laughing infants like they were a friggin' pair of tiny Moses and we had zero trouble getting through, making a beeline straight for-

My eyes widened, "Oh no."

"Oh yes!" Anna cackled, tightening her hold on my arm.

I futilely dug my heels in, trying to put on the brakes. "No, no, no!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Rayne answered in glee.

There was no use fighting it. This was happening. Like it or not, I had no choice but to charge headlong into a little shop known as…

...Esmeralda's Secrets.

I had just been forcibly manhandled into literal Underwear Hell. Everywhere as far as the eye could see, things were lacy… things were silky…

...things were fluffy.

Egads, the horror. The fluffy, fluffy, neon pink, leopard-printed utter horror.

I squeaked, squeezing my eyes closed and burying my face into my hands. I was almost surprised my palms didn't burn from how badly my cheeks were roasting.

I heard a chuckle from Rayne as I felt her trying to gently pry my fingers away from my eyes. "Don't play coy, sweetie, we're all grown-ups here! You act like you've never been in an adult happy fun-time store to buy some lingerie before!"

"Maybe because I haven't!" I dropped my hands to fix her with a hard stare. Instead, the recipient of my said stare turned out to be a mannequin in something skimpy, leathery and with far too many buckles. "Oh dear," I muttered, somehow managing to blush even harder as I looked away and held a hand up to block my line of sight to it.

"Really, Sis? You've never been in one of these places? Not ever, not even once?" Anna snerked, shaking her head. The sheer disbelief coloring her voice led me to believe that she had been in this type of store before. This was not a realization I was comfortable with. "But you're so…" she whistled, winking one eye shut as her hands traced an hour-glass figure in the air before me. "...and Lea's so…" now she trilled her tongue against the roof of her mouth, eyebrows bouncing as she mimed pouncing with curled, wriggling fingers. "...ya know what I mean?"

...was it sad that I did in fact know exactly what she meant?

Scrunching my eyes shut as I pressed my fingers between my eyebrows, I puffed out a low sigh. Then, rather awkwardly (scratch that... very, very awkwardly), I explained, "...while it's… true that we're quite, er… active in that, hrm… department… we, uh… r-rather, that is to say, lingerie is a particular… bedroom... adventure we've yet to have as of, um… as of yet."

I couldn't believe this was actually a conversation I was having with my baby sister.

She brightened. "Well then thank your lucky stars cuz I've just handed you the perfect Christmas present on a silver platter! You're welcome!"

I tipped my head to one side with a dubious frown. "...really?" Plucking a hanger bearing an intricate, ruffled bra from a nearby rack, I wrinkled my nose at it before putting it back. "Doesn't seem like it'd be the most meaningful, heartfelt gift…"

"Please!" Rayne batted a hand through the air with a snort. "It's not like it's an anniversary or anything, it's Christmas - a consumer holiday glorified by the big corporations to weasel as much munny as they can outta us! Not every gift has to be thoughtful and profound, you're allowed to just have a lil fun with it sometimes!"

"Still… I don't know…" I said slowly as my gaze wandered against my will towards a nearby case filled with… ah, hm… shall we say, recreational items? I quickly averted my eyes.

"How 'bout we just peruse a bit, 'kay? No harm in that!" Rayne grinned as she steered the stroller further into the store.

"Yeah, Sis, just let us peruse!" Anna beamed as she linked her arm in mine once more and tugged me into a stumbling walk.

I pressed my lips together into a thin line and said nothing as I let her guide me along. I mean, did I even have a choice? Really? Maybe the sooner I stopped arguing, the sooner we could get this whole embarrassing ordeal over with and leave.

As I let my eyes idly drift from one frilly garment to the next, I did have to begrudgingly concede that Anna and Rayne might actually be onto something here with the lingerie idea. Don't get me wrong, Lea had never made me feel pressured to, er… "dress up" for the occasion or anything like that. It was never even really a conversation we'd ever had, so honestly it wasn't something I'd particularly given much thought to before this very moment. That said, I could hardly see him being exactly opposed to the idea either. Far from it, in fact…

Thus why it might just make the perfect Christmas surprise.

Anna abruptly pulled us to an unexpected stop in front of another customer, drooping her eyelids at the individual as she informed him, "You know that'd be more of a Christmas gift for you than for her, right?"

The gentleman in question paled, choking back a startled, "Huh?" and looking rather guilty as he stood there with the sheer, sparkly spaghetti-strapped thong dangling from his fingers that'd he'd been mulling over.

Rayne stepped up beside us, parking her stroller with it aimed directly at the guy as she deadpanned, "For shame! My babies judge you!"

He blinked, glancing down at the infants. Cayde and Aria squealed and burbled back. Turning bright red and dropping the underwear, he made a hasty retreat out of the shop.

"Haha, yes! That was too fun, Ray-Ray!" Anna snickered, giving her a high five. As I pinched the bridge of my nose with a tiny shake of my head, Anna asked, "What?"

I grumbled, "Being in a lingerie store by myself would be mortifying enough, but it's just now dawning on me how utterly ridiculous it is that I'm in here with my sister and a mom who brought her two babies."

"Psh, they're fine with it," Rayne brushed off, redirecting her gaze to someone nearby who seemed to work here. "Excuse me, Miss, you're fine with my tots being here, right?"

The woman turned to face us with a warm smile. She had long, wavy raven hair, eyes as green and sparkly as emeralds, and the kind of figure that would probably be pictured in a dictionary next to the word "voluptuous." In short, exactly the kind person any boss who ran a lingerie store would be positively thrilled to hire as an employee. She hummed a soft laugh as she waved a finger in greeting to the twins, "Of course! I actually have a kid of my own back home… Djali looks to be just about their age, maybe a few months older. Anyway, I completely understand and have no problem at all with you bringing them in here."

"Told ya," Rayne smugly razzed her tongue in victory at me.

And this prime example of maturity was a parent, folks.

Rolling my eyes but fighting a grin, I then glimpsed the worker's name tag and furrowed my brow. "Wait… you're Esmeralda?" I blinked a couple times. "...that's not just a fancy name they put on the store sign?"

"Nope! I own and operate this lil business," the woman smiled proudly now.

"Well then, Esmeralda, I hafta ask…" one corner of Anna's lips turned up as she leaned to whisper conspiratorially, "What's your secret?"

A little snort escaped her nose before she gestured back towards the front of the store, "Not letting creeps like that get to me."

Looking out the shop windows back into the mall proper, we now all spotted a rather sinister-looking old man standing out there who seemed to be… protesting? He was holding up a sign aimed directly at this little boutique bearing in big, bold letters the words (and I kid you not): SINNERS, REPENT. Other mall shoppers were giving the man a wide berth as he just stood there a few feet away from the entrance into here, glaring. Gosh, how had we not seen him on our way in? Maybe he'd arrived after us.

"Ugh," Rayne scrunched up her nose in distaste at the sight of the man. "What's ol' Skeezy McSkeezerson's problem?"

"He's just some religious nutjob who thinks my little," up came her fingers to provide air quotes, "den of iniquity here is ruining the wholesome, family friendliness of the mall. Ignore Frollo, he's harmless."

Anna raised an eyebrow, "You're chummy enough with that gnarly bag of bones to know his name?"

Chuckling, Esmeralda shrugged, "Kind of hard not to know it, what with him harassing me every morning when I come to open shop and every night when I lock up. Luckily, he's not brave enough to follow me inside, probably too afraid he'll fall victim all this sin and debauchery hanging on the racks. This place is my sanctuary," she glanced around with a contented sigh. Then she clapped her hands together once, flashing her best customer service smile now. "But that's enough talk about that! Is there anything I can help you lovely ladies out with today?"

"Perhaps you can assist my beautiful bestie here by helping her pick out some sexy underwear for her to show off to her man," Rayne beamed, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "You'll hafta forgive her, she's a tad clueless cuz she's a bit of a lingerie virgin."

"Hmmmmm," Esmeralda slowly circled me as she tapped a curled finger to chin. I felt a heat rising to my face once again under such scrutiny and I began fidgeting with my braid. "...yes, I can already picture a few of my items that could suit you perfectly. But first, tell me a little about your beau - do you think he could handle being subjected to some of our more…" she paused, a sly little gleam flitting across her eyes now as she smirked, "...risqué outfits?"

Forget him, I don't think I could handle being subjected to some of their more risqué outfits!

Before I could respond however, Anna chimed in with, "Oh don't worry, Lea can handle them! Trust me, he's as red blooded and virile as they come!"

"Anna!" I gasped, horrified as I strangled my braid harder.

She gave my shoulder a light, playful shove, "C'mon, Sis, you think I can't friggin' hear you two going at it whenever I spend the night on your living room couch?"

I nearly tore my braid straight out of my scalp.

Face? What face? No, I no longer had one and in its place now was nothing but a raging inferno.

"I- He- We- Tha-" I spluttered and stammered, unable to complete a coherent thought, much less sentence.

"Aw, I think you broke her," Rayne cooed with a little giggle, patting me on the head.

Esmeralda had already set to work, drifting from one rack to the next, seemingly knowing exactly where to find each thing she was looking for as she quickly and efficiently riffled through the garments, plucking up hangers here and there to toss over her arm before moving to the next one. Before long, she'd returned to stand in front of me with an assortment of delicates neatly stacked in the crook of her elbow. "I've picked out a few options for you for starters, just let me know if you see any you'd like to try on." With that, she held up the first one.

...I did not understand what I was even looking at here. Like, at all. Was she holding it upside down?

Though I made no comment, my expression must have told her everything. "Alright, not your cup of tea. Moving along," she smiled good-humoredly as she set that one aside and lifted up another one for me to look at.

Good lord, was that supposed to be lingerie or a net? The thing was more holes than fabric. Just how many limbs did they think I had?

Tucking that one away as well, she laughed, "Take it that one's a no too. Don't worry, I have a good feeling about this next one." She showed it to me and…

...actually? It wasn't too distressing.

No, it was actually a rather classy and tasteful kind of sexy, with its silk and its hint of lace and its overbust corset in a deep, rich blue.

I hesitated with a thoughtful frown before reaching a hand out to gingerly take it from her. Cheeks still simmering away, I pursed my lips to one side as I considered it for a few seconds longer, then mumbled, "You said something about being able to try them on?"

Esmeralda smiled brightly. "Follow me, I'll take you to a fitting room."

As she started leading me towards the back, I was suddenly halted in my tracks when I heard, "Sis! Sis!" My eyebrows knit together as I turned my head towards Anna's voice. I spotted her over by one of the wall shelves, holding something up high over her head and waving it about with an almost manic glee as Rayne smothered snickers into her hand beside her. "You should get this for Lea too!"

It took me a second to realize what it was she had in her hand, but when I did, every last drop of blood in my body came hurtling up into my face.

"No!" I shouted across the store. "No way! I am not buying that!"

I bought it.

But only because Anna wouldn't stop pestering me about the stupid thing until I did.

I hadn't been able to bring myself to gift-wrap it with the lingerie that I'd also ended up purchasing. Heck, I'd barely been able to bring myself to wrap the lingerie itself, but what exactly else could I have done? Surprised him with it by just walking into the bedroom wearing it? Please, as if I could ever be so bold - I'd practically burst into flames from all the blushing I'd been doing just wrapping the dang thing. As for the other thing, I'd just panicked and hid it away wedged between the bedframe and underside of our mattress for the time being until I could figure out something else to do with it.

Thankfully, I'd also managed to come up with a second gift to give Lea. In a sudden surge of inspiration out of the blue, I'd gotten the idea to get him a vintage movie reel projector. I could just picture him getting all excited about collecting all of his cheesy classics he loved so much in their original format so we could watch them "the way they were meant to be watched" or something like that. Finding one used online hadn't been all that difficult or expensive, not to mention thank goodness for overnight shipping! The device itself was big but not all that heavy, almost shockingly so - I'd easily been able to lug it around myself for getting it all wrapped and whatnot.

So there my two presents sat in the living room as Christmas Eve dawned, beneath a tiny yet festively decorated tree that we had to constantly keep Marshmallow from trying to eat. It was hard to blame the giant fuzzball though really - now almost fully grown, Marshmallow was bigger than the dinky little pine so was it any real wonder that he seemed to consider it his new favorite chew toy?

In any case, me getting Lea more than one gift seemed to have worked out for the best as it hadn't slipped my notice that he'd also gotten me a couple things that were currently nestled there at the base of that tree. Our small cluster of presents were really only there for the sake of appearances at the moment. We weren't going to be here on Christmas day itself. We were in fact just a few minutes away from hitting the road to spend the holidays in my family's sizable cabin tucked away up in the snowy mountains surrounding Arendelle. Luckily, the only actual relatives that would be there were Anna and Saïx, with the rest of the guest rooms being filled out by a handful of our friends we'd invited to join us for the holidays. In any case, all we had left to do before we departed was finish getting dressed, wrap up packing with a few last minute supplies, toss the presents into the car trunk, wrangle Marshmallow into the backseat and then we'd be off.

Thus my mild surprise when just as I'd finish rinsing my dish from breakfast, I felt Lea wrapping his arms around my waist to hug me from behind as he nuzzled my neck and whispered, "Hey, how 'bout we each open up one of our presents a day early? It'll be fun, whaddya say?"

I glanced over my shoulder at him and he flashed me a cheeky little grin. I blinked a couple times, then peeked over towards our teeny tree in the living room. More specifically, at the gifts beneath it. At one gift in particular.

You know… that gift.

I hastily averted my gaze, feeling my cheeks warm.

Drat, had he noticed which one my eyes had zeroed in on?

Clearing my throat as I set the dish in the drying rack, I asked casually, "Do we really have the time? We're already running a bit behind, we should've been on the highway ten minutes ago."

"We're already late, what's a few extra measly minutes?"

I tried again, "But today? Right now? ...it's not even Christmas yet."

"Pfft, what, like the holiday police are gonna bust us for bending the rules a lil?" he chuckled low as he gave my ear a playful nip before pulling away, spinning me around to face him. "Misbehave, live a lil! Being bad never felt so good! 'Sides, I'm just dying to know whatcha got me. C'mon, it's just one present each, we'll still have others to rip open on jolly ol' Saint Nick's Day tomorrow."

I had to resist the urge to look at that gift again.

Damn it, girl, be cool.

Instead, I smiled and relented with a small sigh, "Alright, fine. Only one though, got it?"

"Course!" he beamed, before gesturing a hand towards the living room with a slight bow of his head. "Ladies first."

I walked past him, exiting the kitchen and approaching where our tree stood guard over its little horde of presents. I considered them for a few seconds before picking out a bright red, flat-ish one decorated in nutcracker soldier printed gift wrap. Then I moved to the couch, making room by easing Marshmallow over a bit where he laid conked out in a deep sleep (on his back and with his tongue lolled out) before I took a seat on the middle cushion.

As I watched Lea approach the pile of gifts now to pick one out for himself, I couldn't help a small twitch as I suddenly began to regret every poor life choice I'd made that'd led up to me buying that stupid lingerie. I mean, seriously, what had I been thinking when I'd let Rayne and Anna talk me into getting that silly thing? What would I even possibly say when Lea unwrapped it? How would I- no, shush, relax, Elsa, it'll all be fine. Lea probably wasn't even going to pick that one. He was probably more curious about whatever the bigger, flashier-looking one could be - it was probably the whole reason he'd even suggested opening a couple right now. Yeah, that had to be it! There was no way he could be interested the measly, smaller, less fancy looking pres-

Fudge, he'd picked the lingerie.

Jerk probably had caught me staring at it.

"Are you sure that's the one you want to open now?" I blurted out before my mind could catch up. Noting the slight tremor to my voice, I cleared my throat and gave a tiny nervous laugh, my fingers absently picking at the tape on my own present. "The other one's bigger. Clunkier, you might even say. Could be a lot of work hauling it all the way up to the cabin, then hauling it all the way back. Maybe it'd be better if you just opened that one here instead."

"Nah, I don't mind lugging it back and forth," he laughed as he plopped down onto the sofa on my other side opposite of Marshmallow, settling the abomination that was my gift into his lap. "I could use the workout anyhow! This glorious physique don't just happen on its own, ya know!" he grinned, flexing one arm and kissing his bicep.

I gave a soft snort. "True, I suppose you have to burn off all that ice cream you consume by the gallon somehow," I poked a gentle fingertip to his belly.

"Hey now, maybe I wouldn't eat so much o' the crap if the girl working at the Ice Palace weren't such a cutie," he leaned towards me with a wink.

"Oh-ho, no," I waggled a finger in his face. "You were a sugar junkie long before I got a job there, so don't even try to blame your sweet tooth on me."

He smirked. "Who said I was talking 'bout you?"

I smacked him in the face with one of the couch's throw pillows.

"I mean, obviously I was talking 'bout you, babe!" He reached over to tweak my nose, "You're the cutest chick who works there, no contest! ...literally, cuz you're the only chick who works there, so that's not even really saying mu-"

I whacked him with the pillow again.

"I kid, I kid, c'mon, you know I think you're the most gorgeous creature in all of creation! Gimme that thing before you fluffily bludgeon me to death," he snerked, confiscating the cushion from me and tucking it away between the armrest and his hip before nudging my shoulder with his. "Now go on, open up my present to ya already!"

With a tiny shake of my head at him, I redirected my focus to the nicely wrapped gift in my lap and began carefully removing the tape. Once I'd made enough of an opening, I liberated a thin box from within. Raising an eyebrow, I lifted the lid off to discover two long, green slips of sturdy paper inside decorated with a logo on one half and lots of teeny printed text filling the rest of it. I picked them up with a little frown, squinting as I read them, then gasped and shot up to my feet, the box tumbling out of my lap down to the carpet. "How?! How did you manage to get tickets?! This musical has been sold out for months!"

"I have my ways," he sighed smugly, slouching down more comfortably into the sofa cushion. "We should be able to squeeze it in before the end of winter break, so figured we could take in the show, spend a few days in the big apple, make a whole trip outta it, ya know?"

"That… that sounds amazing, that-" I cut myself off, suddenly at a loss for words. Broadway was currently running my favorite musical - the one that song was from that I'd chosen to audition with for our community theater's Wicked tryouts. I'd been dying to go and Lea knew that, but tickets had been impossible to get. Not so for him, it seemed. I hastily sat back down, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking him over to me to kiss him thoroughly. Smiling against his lips, I then drew back just enough to whisper, "Thank you… this means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it," he murmured back, gaze hooded as he nudged the tip of my nose with his. Then he pulled away, eyes lighting up a bit as he eagerly rubbed his hands together over his own present now. "Alright, my turn!"

I paled, heart all but flatlining in my chest. Crud, I'd completely forgotten. Here Lea had picked out something super sweet and thoughtful for me, and what had I gotten him in return?

Underwear.

Nay, not just underwear.

Friggin' frilly underwear.

"No!" I yelped, lunging for it just as he'd ripped some of the wrapping paper off one corner. Managing to snatch it out of his hands, I scrambled to stand and get it away from him. He stared blankly at me, one eyebrow quirked. Eyes darting wildly about, I said, "No, this… you don't want to open this one! This one's, er…" I hid it behind my back, biting my bottom lip, "...it's nothing really, it's- you know what? Let's get you the other one! Yes, that's the one you want, and this one you can open, er… never? Yeah, let's say never! In fact, let's just completely forget this one ever existed and I'll go get you the other-"

Just as I'd turned to make my way back over to the tree, Lea snaked one arm out and snagged the gift back with a chipper little, "Yoink!"

"Hey!" I tried to steal it back from him, but he'd stood up to his full height, holding it high above his head where it was easily out of my reach.

Curse him, his stupid tall self and his stupid, stupid long arms!

He chuckled as he pressed a quick peck to my forehead, "Now I know this is for sure the one I wanna open. With you getting all flustered over it, whatever it is has gotta be good!"

"But-"

"Ah-ah!" his finger booped me on the nose before he plonked back down into his seat on the couch. "Ya know it only makes me wanna open it more the harder you fight it, right? Just let it go, El, it's happening."

My lips pinched sourly before I huffed and sat down as well. I grabbed another throw pillow and hugged it tightly to my chest, burying my face in it just enough for me to peek out anxiously over the top.

Alright, fine. Let's get this impending trainwreck over with.

But I swear, this is the last time I listen to any advice Anna and Rayne give me ever again.

I tried not to flinch with each little tear he made in the gift wrap, the cartoony frolicking reindeers and elves printed on it seeming so deceptively innocent now when you considered what scandalous secrets lay hidden beneath them. All too soon, he was balling up the tattered remains and tossing them over his shoulder before opening the box, shifting the neatly folded tissue paper within aside and-

His whole body went still. Then he blinked once. Then twice. "Huh," was all he said at first. Then with a bemused little upward curve to one corner of his lips, he was delicately lifting the lingerie up out of the box in all its salacious glory. "...babe, I'm flattered, but blue's not really my color."

...oh god, the big clueless dope thought I'd given it to him as a joke for him to wear. He didn't realize-

Fudge, now I had to spell it out for him.

Having to wonder how my brain was not melting straight out of my ears at this point what with how badly my face was broiling, I set the pillow aside, folded my hands in my lap, sat up a little straighter and opened my mouth. Then swiftly snapped it back shut, cheeks cranking up the heat even further.

How… do I even put this?

Taking a deep breath, I tried again, "But it is… my color..."

He dropped the garment, eyes growing round and expression slack. "Oh." A pause. Then, "Oh, so you'd be the one who'd- oh." Picking it up again, a huge, lopsided grin spread across his suddenly rather flushed face as he eyed it in a whole new light now. "...oh, I see."

Fingers strangling the life out of each other in my lap, I looked away as I went on, "I know it's not as nice or as… sincere as your gift to me was, but I promise my other present is much better and-"

"No, no, none of that now, it's- I- this is-" Apparently struggling to find the right words to do justice to what he wanted to say, he instead settled for schooling his expression to be almost comically stoic as he gave big, emphatic nods with a thumbs up that then shifted into forming an O with his thumb and forefinger, signaling his approval.

I perked up a little uncertainly. "...you mean you like it? Really?"

"Oh yeah, trust me, I like it… really, really like it." Lea then cleared his throat, knee bouncing up and down as his fingers idly traced back and forth over the lace embroidered into the silky fabric. "Sooooo, heh… when do we take this baby out for its first test spin? ...now? Or say, I dunno, uh…" he shrugged, clearly trying (and failing) not to sound too eager as he repeated, "now?"

Down, boy.

I bit back a tiny smile. "No, now we should be on the road and making our way towards the cabin," I said as I rose to my feet to head towards the bedroom, snatching the lingerie from his grasp as I moved past him.

"Hey!" He vaulted himself over the backrest of the couch in the flash, hot on my heels. "That's mine!"

Crossing my arms as I spun around to face him, I said, "Yes, but I'm simply taking it to pack it with my things so we have it for the trip."

"Oh." Lea was grinning so big again now, it crinkled his guyliner. "I'll allow this."

"How very magnanimous of you," I snorted, turning to continue my journey to the bedroom once more. "I'm going to go finish packing and getting dressed, while you-" Just as I'd stepped through the door, I glanced back to discover he'd followed me in here. "...just where do you think you're going?"

He hunched down to my eye level, eyebrows bouncing over his half-lidded gaze. "To help ya get dressed, of course."

"Uh-uh. No," I planted a hand firmly to his chest, forcing him to walk in reverse and back out of the room. "I know that look. We don't have time for that look, we're late enough as it is. You stay out here, clean up the trashed wrapping paper, and get the rest of the gifts and Marshmallow out to the car."

"Aw c'mon, El, ya gotta lemme in there so I can help you," he insisted.

I gave him a flat look. "...do I? Do I really? Enlighten me then, please… why do I 'gotta' let you in here?"

"Er… cuz I'm a charming, lovable scamp with devilish good looks that you just can't say no to?"

I drooped my eyelids at him. Then I shut the door in his face, locking it for good measure.

Charm your way through that, scamp.

My cheeks puffed as I blew out a long breath, taking a second to fan my still very heated face with my hands. I then crossed the room, tossing Lea's gift next to where my almost fully packed suitcase laid open atop the bed. I set to work grabbing whatever else I needed - things like my charger and whatnot - and stuffed them into my travel case.

I then paused in a brief moment of indecision before sighing, rolling my eyes, and sticking my hand under the mattress to retrieve the other thing that Anna had made me buy from Esmeralda's Secrets. I frowned at it, then turned and held it up as I asked, "What do you think? Should I take it along?"

Bruni blinked back at me from inside his terrarium, cocking his head. Then can you guess what the little salamander did next? Go on, take a wild guess.

If your answer involved his tongue, his eyeball, and/or the swiping of said tongue over said eyeball, then you'd be correct.

I snorted. "You know, we really need to get you some new talking points as I feel you've pretty much said all you can say with that one at this point," I told him as I double checked he had enough food in there with him to keep him amply fed while we were gone. Then I gave the thing in my grip one final glance with a tiny shake of my head before tucking it away inside my luggage, burying it deep beneath several layers of clothing. Chances were good it'd never see the light of day, but why not bring it just in case? I mean, the lingerie had been such a hit and we hadn't even gotten to the fun part with it yet. I could imagine this thing would probably be met with equally rave reviews from Lea as well, should I muster up the courage to actually bring it out.

Now all I needed to do was pack the lingerie, get dressed, and go. I picked it up, dangling it before me as I considered it for a moment. My lips pursed to one side.

...an idea was beginning to take form in my mind.

A little wicked one.

A supremely stupid one.

One that was only asking for trouble.

Honestly, I don't know what possessed me to do it.

But I did it anyway.

"Everyone else is there already. I can't believe we're actually going to be the last ones to arrive," I muttered, narrowing my eyes at the text message from Anna on my phone.

"Bah, don't sweat it," Lea chuckled as he sped his car down the highway. We'd been on it for about twenty minutes now. He glanced over at me, tipping his aviators down just enough to wink over the rim, "Just means they'll have our hot cocoa ready and waiting for us in a couple o' steaming mugs by the time we get there."

My throat gave a small, noncommittal hmph. "Just be glad Anna's insisting on saving the master bedroom for us instead of calling dibs on it for her and Kristoff," I told him, pocketing my phone once more. Then I said, "I still think it was silly of Saïx to drive out ahead of us on his own instead of carpooling with us. He would've been able to sleep on the ride over."

He flicked on his blinker as our lane began to merge with the next one over. "Think he plans to bail on our lil holiday bonanza a day or two earlier than the rest of us. 'Sides, pretty sure he wasn't too keen on the idea of being the overstuffed fleabag's snuggle buddy on the whole drive over," he sniggered as he stretched a hand behind him into the backseat without looking to give Marshmallow a couple of affectionate pats to the head. "Hey!" he quickly snatched the hand back when his love was reciprocated with tooth hugs.

"Well then, his loss." I grinned as I twisted around in my seat to give the dog scritches under the chin, cooing, "Isn't that right, Marshmallow?"

Did that sound like an invitation to come sit in my lap? Because apparently to Marshmallow, it did. In the blink of an eye, he'd excitedly squeezed his way through the space between our two front seats to crush me under the mountain of white fluff that was him, tail thumping away at a mile a minute against the dash. Quite a feat considering there was barely enough space in the car seat to accommodate the colossal canine alone, much less the both of us. To this day, I'm still not quite sure how Marshmallow had managed to wedge himself up here with me.

After much cackling from Lea and wheezed coaxing from me, Marshmallow was finally persuaded a few minutes later to clamber back into the backseat once more, though not without a healthy dose of whining and puppy-dog pouting. Able to breathe again, I inhaled deeply as I began to straighten myself back out - the assault of doggy cuddles had left me in a bit of a disarray. I swept the few stray pale tendrils of my hair that had escaped back into my bun, smoothed the rumples out of my off the shoulder button-up blouse, and-

"Holy shit, is that... Under your clothes, you're already wearing it?!" Lea fumbled with his shades, perching them atop his head as his suddenly wide-eyed stare was now in a tug-of-war between my leg and watching the road.

With a start, I glanced down to discover that Marshmallow's little snuggle ambush had caused my knee-length skirt with a side-slit to ride up a bit, revealing the lacy garter (complete with a little blue bow) wrapped around my thigh that was holding up my black sheer stockings. Blushing furiously, I hastily jerked the hem of my skirt back down to hide it again and awkwardly avoided his gaze as I crossed my legs, mumbling, "...maybe."

Yes.

I was already wearing it.

"It" being the lingerie.

Which, by the way if you hadn't guessed by now, was the supremely stupid thing I'd decided to do.

Lea said nothing, just continued to gawk at me.

Gosh, if my cheeks burned any brighter, Santa would be asking me to guide his sleigh tonight instead of Rudolph.

Talk. I needed to talk. To fill this silence that was making me fidget restlessly under his gaze. Go on, mouth, just move and make with the words already. Any words. "...it's... actually rather comfortable." ...okay? "The lingerie, that is." Oh good. Thanks for clarifying the obvious. "Wouldn't think it would be. Would've thought it'd be more designed in favor of being, ah… aesthetically pleasing at the expense of comfort." Oh dear, where was I going with this? "I mean, I tried it on before buying it. Of course I did, it'd be silly not to at least make sure it- but, you know, I only had it on for a grand total of a minute in the fitting room, not really long enough to tell if- but now that I've had it on for an, er… extended period, I can say that it's, uh… it's quite comfortable. The silk is real nice, real… smooth against the skin." I take it back. Stop talking. Stop talking this instant. "Fits like a glove, as the saying goes, not… tight or restricting at all like I'd imagined it might be. The whole thing's really quite flexible with a plenty of give, actually…" Your license to speak has been revoked, mouth, you hear me? Zip it! "I shouldn't have any problems bending or twisting into any sort of posi-"

The car beside us suddenly blared its horn - apparently Lea had been a little too preoccupied by my line of discussion and in his distraction had begun to accidentally drift into the next lane over. "Fuck," he hissed, swerving us back into our proper lane. Clearing his throat as he shot the other vehicle a quick, apologetic wave, he told me, "Love, I'm dying to hear the end of that sentence, trust me, I'm highly invested at this point, but we're gonna hafta put a pin in it and circle back round to it later cuz this is a dangerous conversation to be having with a man while he's driving."

You heard the man, mouth. Friggin' cram it.

Pressing my lips firmly together, I tugged at the hem of my skirt again and gave a single curt nod, making no further comment.

We drove in silence for a minute as the trees of the forest around us blurred past our windows. Lea's eyes kept flicking to me out of the corner of his peripheral. He coughed into his fist and vigorously ruffled his fingers through his hair before returning his grip to the wheel. His knee began to jiggle up and down. Then, "Hey, uh… how 'bout we make a pit stop somewhere?"

I glanced towards him, my head tipping to one side. "A pit stop?"

"Yeah, so we can, ya know... stretch our legs… and other things," he wickedly smirked as he reached over the center console for my hand and brought it up to his lips, bouncing his eyebrows at me over my knuckles as he pressed a kiss to them.

A noise that was half laugh, half scoff escaped me. "There's not another rest stop for miles."

He shrugged. "I'm not picky. I'm sure a nice thicket could do in a pinch."

I gave him a flat look. "...a thicket? Really?"

"What? I'll make sure it's a romantic one! A classy one!"

"And how, pray tell, do you make a thicket classy?" I crossed my arms under my chest, arching an eyebrow at him.

"By keeping our pinkies raised the whole time!" Lea beamed, holding one hand up and wiggling his little finger.

Snorting, I shook my head. "No stops until we get there, understood?"

A harsh little huff emitted from his throat, "Fine." Then his foot pressed down harder on the gas and the engine thrummed louder as we started passing the other cars more quickly.

I hummed a soft laugh, "Oh sure, now you're in a hurry to get there."

"Well yeah! Ya said it yourself: we're late. Just trynta make up for lost time!" One corner of his lips quirked up as he added, "'Sides, the sooner we get there, the sooner I can unwrap my present."

"You know you're not allowed to open the other one until tomorrow morning," I tutted.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he not so subtly eyed me up and down, leaving zero doubt as to exactly what he meant.

Suppressing the urge to squirm, my hands swiped the nonexistent wrinkles out of my skirt as I dropped a casual, "Goodness, all this fuss and you haven't even seen part two of your gift yet."

He shot me a double-take. "Jesus Christ, there's a part two?!"

I'm with him, there's a part two?! Mouth, what are you even-

...oh dear, I was talking about the thing tucked away in my luggage between my dresses and my nightgown, wasn't I?

Damn Anna to the bloody ninth circle of hell for ever making me buy that infernal thing!

Alright, mouth, we can still get out of this. Remember the three B's: backtrack, backtrack, backtrack! Just go on and work your magic.

"Guess you'll just have to wait until later tonight to find out."

...mouth, you're fired.

Lea gave a low whistle and grinned big. "Somebody musta told Santa that I've been a very good boy this year," he murmured, his gaze drifting towards me again. Then traveling downward. Searching. As if he could somehow catch a glimpse of the lingerie hidden beneath through sheer force of will alone.

"Hey now, eyes on the road, mister," I chided.

He pouted, but did as he was told.

I snorted, "What's with the face? It's not like you can see anything anyway, you don't have x-ray vision."

"And I curse my goddamn maker every day for such a heinous oversight," he grumbled under his breath as he slipped his aviators back down onto his face.

We ended up making it to the cabin in record time. It wasn't currently snowing, but a thick glittering blanket of white had coated everything around us, from the ground to the trees to the cabin itself. Lea parked us next to the other cars and as he shut off the engine and the heat with it, I shrugged into my long heavy coat. I probably didn't really need it, the walk to the door would take less than ten seconds and I'd never been one to freeze easily, but it would be one less thing to carry.

Marshmallow was making it abundantly clear he was ready to no longer be trapped inside the car as he pawed at the back door and whimpered. Chuckling and telling him to hang on, I reached back to clip on his leash before exiting the vehicle myself, my knee high boots sinking into the snow as I let him out. He nearly ripped my arm out of my socket when he tried to bolt to investigate his new strange surroundings with all its new strange scents, but I managed to keep him in check if only just barely. Lea, having wrapped a black and red checkered scarf around his neck and donned his own thick jacket, took it upon himself to grab our suitcases seeing as how I pretty much had my hands full maintaining control of Marshmallow.

"We're here!" I called out as I opened the front door and let Marshmallow pull me inside, Lea following us and kicking the door shut behind him before dumping our things on the floor. As I knelt down to remove the leash once more, Marshmallow's nostrils suddenly flared with a big sniff before his ears perked and he went very still, his eyes intently focused on the hallway that led to the main sitting room. Oh-ho, I knew who he smelled. The second the leash was unclipped, the big wall of fur excitedly charged off deeper into the house.

I shook my head with a tiny grin as I slipped out of my coat and folded it over the banister next to the entrance. Before I could follow in my dog's tracks however, I felt Lea's hand closing around mine. He gently tugged me back and spun me around to face him, backing me up against the banister as he planted his hands on top of it to either side of me, trapping me between it and his body. Then he was leaning in real close, eyes hooded as his nose brushed alongside mine, his breath tickling my lips as he purred, "Ya know what I was thinking?"

I gave a low hum, reaching up to straighten his collar before resting my hands against his chest, absently smoothing out any creases in the fabric as I asked softly, "What were you thinking?"

His eyes crinkled slightly as he dipped his head, nosing the sensitive skin just beneath my ear and making me shiver. "Was thinkin' you should help me take the luggage to our room."

Translation: he was eager to "unwrap his gift."

A smile tugged at one corner of my mouth. "I see. Well, here's what I'm thinking…"

"Mm-hm," he prompted distractedly, straightening up just enough to try and go in for a kiss.

He probably thought he could seduce me to our bedroom with the power of his lips alone. And you know, he might have been right. He was a really good kisser.

Which is why I clamped my hand over his mouth at the last second, grinned sweetly up at him and said, "I'm thinking I know how much you love being a gentleman and I would simply hate to rob you of this ideal moment of chivalry by offering any sort of help with our suitcases. You're welcome." I lightly patted him on the cheek before trying to slip free of his arms. I didn't make it far however before he'd snagged me around the waist, pulling me up against him. I sighed, "Come on, Lea, the others are waiting for us."

"And they can wait a lil bit longer while we…" that wicked curve to his lips resurfaced, "settle in. It'll be fine, we'll see them later tonight." A thoughtful pause before he waggled his eyebrows, hooking a finger under my chin as he began to lean in once more, murmuring, "Make that tomorrow."

"There you two are!" Anna suddenly came bursting into the room with her signature bubbly laugh. "Was beginning to think you got friggin' lost!"

Whew! Saved by the baby sister!

Don't get me wrong, Lea was making a tempting offer. More than tempting. It's just that we hadn't made the trip all the way up to this cabin only to just lock ourselves in a room together for god knew how long. No, I'd come here to spend time with my friends and family. It was rather rare that I actually chose to spend time with a large group of people, but something about the holidays brought that out in me I suppose. There would be plenty of time for that other stuff later after everyone had turned in for the night. Lea would just have to wait his turn.

His shoulders slumped and he sulked a bit at being interrupted, but Anna hardly noticed as she snagged my arm, "C'mon, everyone's in the living room!"

"Hold it!" Lea hadn't let go of my hand yet. "El's gotta, uh… help me find our room first!"

"Oh! Up the stairs, first one on the left, you can't miss it!" Anna happily chirped, not wasting another second to drag me off.

He reluctantly let my fingers slip free of his this time as he released a low, grumbling huff. I glanced back at him as I let myself be towed along, crinkling my nose in amusement. He crinkled his back, though his was oozing snark. Could a nose crinkle even be snarky? Because if it could, his was decidedly so. With that, I lost sight of him as I was yanked around the corner and down the hall.

I could hear the rumble of chatter and laughter growing louder as we drew near before we stepped into the large family room. Everyone was seated cozily around the large roaring fireplace. Sora had little Cayde (or at least, I thought it was Cayde… I was still getting the hang of telling them apart) settled in his lap while both he and Kairi laughed and made goofy faces for the baby. Riku was nearby, keeping his watchful dad eye on them while holding a conversation with Kristoff at the same time. Rayne and Aria were nowhere to be seen, but I suspected the latter had probably been in need of a change and so had been taken into another room to have that dealt with.

Marshmallow was exactly where I expected him to be - sprawled across Saïx's lap, whether Saïx liked it or not. It looked like there might have been a bit of a kerfuffle for Saïx seemed slightly ruffled, but in the end he'd apparently just accepted his fate and currently had his laptop settled on Marshmallow's back as he typed away at it, a mildly miffed expression twisting his face behind his glasses. Roxas and Xion were seated in armchairs close to him, snickering and shoving each other's shoulders over something.

"Look who I found!" Anna announced as she brought me further into the room. They all looked up and I was met with a round of boisterous greetings. Giving my arm one final squeeze before releasing it, Anna said, "Have a seat! I'll go bring in the snacks now that we're all here!"

I began, "Oh, I'd be happy to help with-"

"No, that's fine! I really only require the assistance of one big, handsome, strapping gentleman and I have just the perfect one in mind..." As she spoke those words, Kristoff perked up and turned his head towards her with a huge smile. "...Sora!"

"Huh, wha?" Sora froze mid-squishing his cheeks together for Cayde at the sound of his own name, blinking a couple times. Kristoff looked positively crestfallen.

Anna snerked. "Kidding! Of course I was talking about you, you big dummy," she planted a quick peck to Kristoff's chin, which seemed to mollify him. Then she gathered both his hands in hers with a chipper, "Now c'mon!" before tugging him off towards the kitchen.

I grinned after them before glancing around for a place to sit. Saïx and Marshmallow were the only ones on their couch and though my beloved four-legged friend did admittedly take up a lot of space, the two of them were on the far side of it and it was a long couch so there was still plenty of room left. I eased myself down on the opposite end from them beside where the "kiddos" had seemingly picked up their conversation right where it'd left off.

"'Lemme copy your homework, Xion. Do all the work on the group project, Xion,'" she was reciting in a voice that I believe was a mock imitation of Roxas's. Then she gave a scoff, albeit in good-humor, "I swear, Rox, I'm nothing more than just a puppet for you to boss around."

"That's right, dance on my strings, puppet!" Roxas cackled back, waggling his fingers in the air above his head as if to manipulate said imaginary strings and earning himself yet another shove to his shoulder.

I listened with half an ear, momentarily distracted as my eyes scanned the room. Where was it? I knew it just had to be here somew-

Ah-ha! There! Dangling from the archway Anna and I had just come through a moment before.

Mistletoe.

I silently filed away its location for later. It'd be useful. Trust me.

"Just be grateful winter break arrived in the nick of time to save your punk ass because I was this close to throttling you," Xion sighed, rolling her eyes before flashing me a long-suffering smile. "I tell ya, Elsa, one of these days this doof will no longer have me around to cover for him and he'll be a total wreck without me!"

He looked aghast, clutching his chest. "No! Xion, you could never abandon me!" A beat. "...who else will I have ice cream with?"

"What am I, chopped liver?" Lea's voice suddenly piped up, drawing our attention. Apparently all done toting our luggage up to our room, he now came striding in, mussing up both Xion's and Roxas's hair by way of hello as he passed them, "Look who got here early."

Roxas swatted his hand away, "No, you're just late."

Lea placed a palm on the back of the couch, catapulting himself over it to land heavily in the spot between me and Marshmallow. Slipping an arm around my shoulders, he declared, "The life of the party is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

"I'm sorry, why are you talking about Sora now?" Xion slyly teased.

"Yeah, he actually showed up on time unlike your late ass," Roxas sniggered before releasing a tiny, hissed "ow" when Lea delivered a swift kick to his shin.

Rolling his eyes, Lea sighed, "So what were you squirts talking about before I got here?"

Xion smirked over at her blond friend, "About how lost Rox would be if he didn't have me around to carry his lazy butt all the time. And we're talking completely lost. Bet he wouldn't even know who he was anymore."

He shrugged, "Psh, what are you talking about? I am me, nobody else."

"You're a chimp is what you are," she poked him in the cheek. "You're lucky you even know your own name, much less how to spell it. If it weren't for me, you'd of flunked outta college ages ago."

"Ooo, we're talking about college?" Anna chimed into the conversation as she came bustling back into the room precariously managing four mugs of hot cocoa, two in each hand. Kristoff was right behind her bearing a couple trays of Christmas cookies and pastries. One of the cocoas was sweetly delivered to me before the others were distributed and Anna sent Kristoff back to the kitchen to continue ferrying in more after he'd left the snacks on a coffee table. Happily flopping down into a nearby armchair, she popped one of the sweets into her mouth before continuing, "I can't believe I have less than a year before I graduate! Unlike some people…" Her eyes smugly drifted to Lea.

"Hey now, rude! Shit, why the drive-by? I'm working through my credits as fast as I can," he grumbled as he accepted one of the cocoas Kristoff had returned with and blew on it. Then one side of his mouth quirked up at he told Kristoff, "My my, she's got ya trained good, huh?"

His only response was a hand gesture that was less than PG. Lea just snorted at that.

"What are your plans after college? I don't think you've told me yet," I asked my sister, hazarding a slow careful sip. Mmmm, chocolate! I cradled it close in both hands, enjoying the warmth seeping into my fingers.

Anna grabbed a handful of holiday truffles, tossing one up in the air and catching it in her mouth with a huge grin before answering. "Thinking of going to work with dad at the company!"

I choked on the second sip I'd just been taking, coughing a bit. "R-really?"

I could picture Anna doing a lot of things. Some stuffy corporate politics job? Not so much.

"Don't act so surprised!" she laughed. "You know I've worked there every summer practically all my life! I like it, and I'm actually pretty good at it too! I think maybe I could run that place one day!"

"Ah, so good to see that the archaic practice of nepotism is still alive and well," Saïx dryly drawled, not looking up from his screen nor pausing in his typing.

My sister huffed, narrowing her eyes at him. "Shush, you! It wasn't handed to me, I've worked my sweet friggin' little butt off for this! Am still working my butt off, thank you very much! And I'll have you know one day when I'm handed the keys to the kingdom, there's going to be some changes around there! I think I could do some real good in the world once I'm in charge! So you can kindly shove it," she razzed her tongue at him before slipping three more sugary treats into her mouth with as much lofty dignity as anyone could do such a thing. It was actually rather impressive.

Saïx merely gave a low hmph at that, fingers still tapping away. Lea drooped his eyelids at him before shifting his leg over to nudge his brother's shoe with his Converse. "Oi. You seriously working right now, dude? C'mon, man, it's Christmas! Quit being such a scrooge, have a heart and let loose a lil!" As he spoke, I could feel his thumb idly tracing light circles in the hollow of my bare shoulder, probably missing having my braid to fiddle with.

"If I had a heart, this would be where I die of laughter," Saïx muttered, squinting at his screen with a thoughtful frown before pressing the backspace a couple times.

"Don't be silly, course you have a heart!" Roxas beamed and shrugged. "Small and shriveled, yes, but it's there!"

Xion rose, moving to instead take a seat on the armrest next to Saïx. "Yeah, you're not a scrooge, you're a grinch! We just need to give you some hugs and eggnog and that heart'll grow three sizes, you'll see!" she giggled, throwing her arms around his shoulders and squeezing hard.

"Ugh, will the intrusions never end?" Saïx huffed, trying to pry himself free of her vice-like embrace but to no avail.

"Shh, you know you love it!"

I had a growing suspicion Lea's interest in the current conversation had waned, for I could sense his intent gaze on me now as I bent forward to put my half drunk cocoa down on the coffee table and reach for the nearest snack tray. As I settled back more comfortably into my seat, he brought up a hand to tuck a stray wisp of my hair that had gotten free back behind my ear before ducking his head to trail feather light kisses down the slope of my neck that left little tingles in their wake. I turned my head to look at him through lowered lashes and he grinned, moving to close the distance between our lips and-

-I crammed a christmas cookie in his mouth.

Nice try, bucko, but you're not going to trick me up to the bedroom that easily.

"Ah! You two made it! Finally!" Rayne came into the room just then, toting Aria on her hip. "Yeesh, took ya long enough!" she smiled as I stood up and we hugged each other. Then she was offering me the baby with an abrupt, "Here, hold this."

I tensed, blinking a couple times, my hands twitching but making no other movements to accept the burbling infant from her. "I… er…"

"Here, I'll take her," Lea muffled out around the mouthful of cookie he was still choking down thanks to me, reaching up to pluck Aria from Rayne's hands and sitting her down in his lap.

I released a silent sigh of relief. Could you believe it had been weeks since the twins had been born and I had still yet to actually hold either one of them? Some godmother I was turning out to be. But dammit, babies were just so squishy and fragile! What if I accidentally broke one of them?

Uh-uh. No. Not on my watch.

Just keep the babies away from me and my klutzy hands. Really, it'd be in everyone's best interest.

"So, uh… have you finished getting their nursery all set up at long last?" I asked as I settled into my seat on the couch once more.

"Yes, finally!" Rayne grinned as she squeezed into Anna's armchair with her and my sister rested her head on her shoulder. "Since Cayde was an unexpected surprise, hadta do a lot of scrambling getting a second crib and other such things for him. Plus it took goddamn ages scrubbing and bleaching every last inch of your old room."

"Bleaching?" Lea echoed curiously, bouncing a laughing Aria on his knee. I couldn't help but notice however that his gaze had drifted to where the mistletoe hung, seemingly just now having noticed it. I could all but see the wheels turning behind those crafty green eyes of his.

My ex-roommate gave him a flat look. "Red, please. You used to spend the night over. A lot. No tykes of mine are gonna be playing somewhere you two used to do the frick-frack constantly without it being properly and thoroughly disinfected and sanitized first."

"Ah," was the only response he made to that. As Rayne then got momentarily distracted by her husband coming over to give her surprise smooches, Lea leaned closer to me, muttering low out of the corner of his mouth so only I could hear, "Take it we're not gonna tell her 'bout their living room couch then?"

Feeling heat creeping up the back of my neck, I cleared my throat and shook my head, answering a quick but just as quiet, "No."

"Or the kitchen countertops? Or that one time on the dining table? Or-"

"No. No, none of it," I hissed, face full on roasting now.

What can I say? Lea could be very, ahem… persuasive when it came to having his way.

"Oh!" Anna suddenly straightened up in her seat excitedly as it seemed she'd just remember something. "You auditioned for the Spring musical, right? Have they announced who got what parts yet?"

Grateful for the subject change, I eagerly nodded, "Yes, actually, they just posted the cast sheet yesterday afternoon." A surge of giddiness filled my chest as I bit back a grin. "...I got the lead."

"Wha- Seriously?! Oh my friggin' god! Sis! Congratulations! And you're only now telling me? You should have said something sooner, this is a big deal!"

Lea glanced up from blowing air raspberries for a happily squealing Aria to say, "That's what I kept trynta tell her."

"I'd hardly call community theater a big deal," I self-consciously brushed off, the pleased smile I was fighting growing wider despite myself. "...I am really excited about it though."

"And you should be, sweetpea!" Rayne reached for my hands in my lap, covering them with her own. "Community theater it may be, but the people there still know their shit! They've recognized your talent and are trusting you with more responsibility! Your first official lead! That's huge!"

"Today, community theater… tomorrow, Broadway… the day after that, the world," Lea intoned in a dramatic whisper.

I rolled my eyes with a small grin, "That's not exactly how it w-"

"Too late. Already said it. It's happening."

As I shook my head at him, Anna hopped up to her feet, struck a finger up in the air and declared, "This calls for celebration! Be right back with something to spike the cocoa with!" With that, she blurred out of the room back towards the kitchen.

I shyly accepted a few more congrats from everyone else before conversation gradually turned to other topics and I just contentedly listened for a bit. The chit chat began to fade into the background however as I glanced towards Lea.

Gosh, he was so good with Aria. How did he make it look so easy? Not to mention there was something so pure and comically endearing about seeing this absolute behemoth of a man with his mess of untamed red hair, guyliner, and black nail polish being so gentle as he played peek-a-boo with the tiny baby. I know I'd already thought he'd make an amazing father one day, but thinking it and actually seeing him in action were two completely different things. Watching the two of them right now-

Oh dear, it was doing things to me.

You know. Stomach butterflies, knees going weak, insides turning into mush kind of things.

Things that must have been as plain as day to read on my face for Lea happened to look over at me, blink a couple times, then quirk an eyebrow as his gaze flicked back and forth between me and Aria while he put two and two together. Then he smirked. Turning the infant to face me now, he took on a high-pitch, munchkin-like voice as he began guiding Aria's arms into flourishing gestures as if she were the one talking instead of him, "Come, m'dear, and let awesome, suave, studly Unkie Lea whisk you away to the bedroom to ravage you and introduce you to whole new worlds of pleasure."

I gave him a blank stare. "...are you seriously trying to seduce me with a baby right now?"

His grin turned toothy. "Depends. Is it working?"

Kind of.

Sort of.

Yes.

"No."

Liar.

Pretty sure he knew it too, what with the way he was squinting at me with that crooked little half-grin of his. His lips parted, but before he could utter another word, Anna practically bounced back into the room.

"We got Crème De Menthe," she held up a long, skinny green bottle in one hand, "we got Kahlúa," her other hand waggled a smaller brown bottle, "we got it all, take your pick! But first, I took a look out the window while I was in the kitchen and now I have a very important question for you." She set the booze down on the table, stood in front of me with both hands firmly planted on her hips and gave me her most serious expression as she stared down her nose at me. Abruptly, she broke out into an ear-to-ear smile, "Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"Hell yeah I do!" Sora finally tore his attention away from Cayde to enthusiastically shout across the room, causing Kairi to smother a snicker behind her hand.

"I'm in," Roxas was already on his feet and making his way towards where his warmer outerwear had been carelessly tossed onto some of the other furniture.

Xion was not too far behind him with a, "Me too! Bet my snowman will totally kick your snowman's frozen powdered ass!"

"Oh, it's on!"

Humming a small laugh, I nodded at Anna, "I'd love to."

Before I could rise from my seat however, I felt Lea's hand grabbing mine. "You sure about that, babe? You're not really, ya know…" his eyes briefly flicked down to indicate my clothes. More specifically, what was concealed beneath my clothes. "...dressed for cold weather and ya might catch a chill. So whaddya say we get you upstairs and-"

"Ah-ah," I pressed a fingertip to his lips, silencing him. "I'll be fine. You know the cold never bothered me anyway. I just need to snag a pair of gloves and go grab my coat from the foyer." I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before standing.

I'd barely managed to take a step however before Lea'd hastily dumped Aria into Saïx's unsuspecting hands and charged past me to stand in my path, right smack dab beneath the-

"Hold it!" he held his palm up in my face, then smirked, propped one shoulder against the inside of the archway he occupied now and pointed up with a smug, "Mistletoe."

I narrowed my eyes at the little sprig above his head, then crossed my arms as my eyelids drooped. "And I suppose you're expecting a kiss now?"

"Tradition demands it and who are we to scoff in the face of tradition? 'Sides, you wanna get your coat, you'll have to get through me first. So pucker up, schmoopsie-poo, cuz these lips aren't gonna kiss themselves!" He stretched a hand towards me, adding a low, "C'mere."

I considered his awaiting hand for a moment. Then I met his gaze, one corner of my mouth quirking up before I snagged the nearest thing - or rather, nearest person, which just so happened to be Roxas as he was running by. "You heard the man: those lips aren't going to kiss themselves!" I winked at the blond before giving him a little push towards Lea.

"You ready, big guy, because here comes some sweet, sweet sugar!" Roxas cackled as he latched onto him and made kissy noises.

"Get off, ya twerp!" Lea growled, planting a hand on Roxas's face and trying to wriggle free of his stranglehold.

"But, dude!" he muffled back against his palm. "Tradition demands it and who are we to scoff in the face of tradition?"

"I believe it's now someone else's turn to hold the infant," I suddenly heard Saïx dryly announce and I glanced back towards him to see him looking quite unamused as he held Aria upside down by one ankle at arms length. She giggled in delight as she reached for Marshmallow, who obliged her with a curious snuffle of her fingers. As Rayne gasped and rushed to take her from him, I shook my head with a grin and quickly slipped past Lea while he was still busy trying to extract himself from Roxas's grapple and thus was unable to stop me.

And to think… the holiday shenanigans had only just begun.

"Welp, that's game!" Lea declared with a clap. Rising from the couch, he pulled me up with him and tried to drag me off as he hastily added, "Was fun guys, but we're gonna call it an early night. C'mon, El."

"What?" I laughed softly, digging my heels in and bringing us both to a lurching stop. "That was just the first round. We haven't even scored yet," I chided as I started leading him back towards the sofa.

He let me, huffing out a low sigh as he grumpily plopped back down into his seat and muttered under his breath, "Whaddya think I've been trying to do this whole time…"

I narrowed my eyes at him, pinching his arm for the comment.

"Oo, the foreplay's starting early, huh?" he waggled his eyebrows at me.

I pinched him harder.

"Babe, ya know you're only encouraging me at this point, right?"

I snorted, shifting tactics and shoving the notepad and pencil into his hands, "Just figure out the points please?"

"Fiiiiiine," he made an exaggerated show of rolling his eyes before scratching the pencil across the paper, tongue licking one corner of his lips as he worked. I shot the rest of the group a tiny apologetic smile.

It seemed Lea was getting a bit antsy for his gift.

I suppose he had been being rather patient for a while now. We had all spent several hours out in the snow - for the record, Xion's snowman had indeed kicked Roxas's snowman's frozen powdered butt. Lea had tried to corner me once or twice out there for some, hrm… snogging, but a well-timed handful of snow to his face did wonders for cooling that fiery passion of his down if only for a moment. Several snow angels and snowball fights later and we'd all finally had our fill and come back inside to warm ourselves by the fireplace once more. We were well past lunchtime now, but we still had plenty of snacks to tide us over until dinner. In the meantime, we'd decided to get a game of charades going at Anna's request.

At least, that's what we were attempting to do…

Of course, it'd help if the scorekeeper was actually doing his job correctly.

Or, you know… at all.

"Alright, lessee here…" Lea mumbled, pencil still furiously scribbling away. "You, my love, have four points, I have negative seventeen, and looks like Riku's won with… hm, carry the one… one million points. Now that's game! Shucks, too bad, so sad, let's go, El." Dropping the pad and pencil to the couch cushions, he snagged my hand and hopped up to his feet once more.

"Sit," came my simple yet firm command as I yanked him back down next to me. Pushing the pencil and notepad squarely into his chest, I told him, "Do it right."

As Lea released a sigh through his nose, Riku snorted from where he sat in another couch snuggled up close with his wife. "Do you even know the score? Have you been paying attention at all?"

"Course I know it! Got it memorized up here in the ol' noggin," he poked the pencil's eraser to his temple with a grin. However it quickly faded into a frown as he squinted down at the paper, tapping his writing utensil against it a couple times. "...but, I mean… if anyone else'd wanna compare notes and tell me what they think the point totals are, I'd only be too happy to let 'em know if they're right or wrong."

"But I thought you already knew the score, Mr Got-It-Memorized," Kairi sniggered, mockingly tapping a fingertip to the side of her forehead.

"I do. That was a test, and one ya just failed, princess. Minus fifty points for Kairi," Lea razzed his tongue at her as he wrote that down.

Sora groaned, "I want a new scorekeeper!"

"And that's minus one hundred points for you, bucko!"

Oh dear. We'd given the doofus way too much power.

"I'll take over keeping track of points," Rayne volunteered as she smiled and shook her head at my boyfriend's antics.

"Treason! Minus one thousand points for Raindrop for the villainy, attempted mutiny, and-"

I snatched the notepad from his fingers and smacked his shoulder with it before tossing it to Rayne who chirped a little "thank you!" at me as she caught it. I tried to confiscate the pencil as well, but he held it up high and away from me. As I stretched across him to reach for it, he took advantage of my new close proximity to plant a small peck to the tip of my nose.

I drooped my eyelids up at him.

Fine then. Keep the pencil, you big dork.

Anna piped up now, "Alright, we'll just call that first round a warm-up! Points start now!" She glanced over her shoulder and called out, "You're missing out on all the fun, Saïx, you sure you don't wanna join us?"

He'd moved some time ago to a table on the other side of the room far away from the rest of us, still hard at work on his laptop with Marshmallow curled up at his feet. "There's nothing I'd hate more," came his flat reply.

"So sayeth Mr Holly-Jolly himself," Lea muttered, staring up at the ceiling now as he balanced the pencil on his nose. I tried to swipe it, but he was faster in grabbing it off himself and once again keeping it out of my reach.

"Since we're starting off fresh, how about some new teams? Gals versus guys?" Xion suggested. She then bumped her shoulder into Roxas's with a goading smirk, "Unless, ya know, you're too scared of getting your asses handed to you by a buncha girls."

He snerked, bumping her back harder. "Bring it!"

As the others began weighing in as well on the new arrangement for the teams, I felt it. This tiny tickle against my thigh. I glanced down to discover Lea trying to use the eraser end of the pencil to covertly lift the side slit of my skirt for another discreet peek at the garter.

I lightly slapped his hand away and stood up, quickly saying, "You know, girls against boys sounds like an excellent idea. I think I'll go sit with my new teammates over here." I squeezed into the other couch between Anna and the armrest, edging Riku out from the opposite end and forcing him to find another seat. Across from Lea now, I shot him a pointed look with one eyebrow arched and a small smirk.

He just sulkily slumped further down into his own seat, knee jiggling up and down as he began gnawing on the pencil.

Oh yeah. Definitely antsy.

But no need to pout there, buddy, you and I both know you secretly love the torture of being forced to wait.

...was it wrong of me to actually be kind of enjoying this newfound power over him so much?

"Alright! Now that that's all settled, let the games begin!" Anna beamed before her blue gaze settled on me. "Sis, why don't you start us off?"

I stiffened. "Wha- me?" I bit down on my lower lip, eyes darting to the left as my hands began to fidget with each other in my lap. "...are you sure? Maybe it'd be better if someone else-"

"Elsa," she interrupted me, placing both hands on my shoulders. "Sis. I love you. You know I do. But you royally suck at charades."

"Hey!" I narrowed my eyes at her.

She shrugged, "Don't you 'hey' me, it's true!"

My face pinched sourly. "...okay, fair. But still… cheap shot."

An unapologetic grin pulled at her lips. "So now that we've got that established, don't you think getting the absolute travesty that will be your turn out of the way first so the rest of the team can help us finish strong might be the best call?"

I fixed her with a dull stare. "Gee, thanks for sugar coating it."

"No prob!" she giggled before her eyes turned expectant. "Sooo…?"

"Fine, just give me my word and let's get this over with," I relented with a sigh and held my hand out. Anna's face lit up and she offered me the basket full of tiny folded bits of paper. I plucked one up without much consideration and rose, stomping a few steps away.

We all remember what a "fan" of charades I am, right?

Not.

Ugh, the things I do for my sister.

Was it too late to be dragged off by Lea so he could have his manly way with me instead?

Releasing another sigh as I took my spot, I turned to face the others with a steely look of determination now. I'd show Anna. Time to put all those acting classes I'd been taking to good use! My team was going to guess my word so fast, they wouldn't even know what hit them. I was going to own this word. I was going to charade the hell out of this word! But first… alright, you stupid word, let's find out what you are. I opened the little slip of paper and squinted down at it.

…ice?

…

What the frick was I supposed to do with ice?!

"All set?" came the sound of Kristoff's voice and my head shot up, eyes wide and skin drained of color. Does this look like the face of someone who's 'all set'?! "Good! Timer starts in three…"

Wait.

"...two…"

No.

"...one…"

Stop!

"...GO!"

Fudge.

He flipped over the small plastic hourglass and I…

...just stood there like a deer caught in the headlights.

"You got this, Elsa!" Anna called out to me. Oh sure, thanks for the vote of confidence now. Too little, too late, Sis. "...any time." No really? And here I was just standing around doing nothing on purpose because I figured that's how you win. "Just… just do it with your body!" Gah, I'm trying!

Okay, think, Elsa, think! Ice… how do I get them to say ice… Ice, ice, ice… ice...berg? ...Icicle? ...ice, ice, baby? Oh come on, Elsa, stop being silly and focus! Ice…

...cube!

Ice cube! Yes, I think I could work with that!

I suddenly snapped into action, my hands blocking out a large shape in the air.

"Oh, oh, square!" Anna said excitedly.

Rayne tipped her head to one side, asking, "A rectangle?"

Kairi chimed in with, "A box!"

I twirled my index finger sideways, indicating for them to keep going before I began outlining the same shape again.

"Television box!"

"Lunch box!"

"Juke box!"

Gah, move on from the infernal word box already, people!

Xion squinted and gave a doubtful, "...microwave?"

"Crate!"

"Toaster!"

"Croaster!" Anna shouted, bouncing up and down in her seat before freezing with a frown. "Wait… that's not a word…"

Despairing and not knowing what else to do, I kept miming the same shape in the air, just more frantically now.

As if doing it faster would somehow help the situation.

"Cube!"

Oh wow, it actually had!

I clapped and nodded vigorously, hopping on the balls of my feet. Alright, onto phase two, which…

...there was no phase two.

Crud.

I had zero idea how to get them from cube to ice cube.

I did not think this through.

Alright. Forget cube. Cube was stupid. Cube is out the window. New plan!

...got it! Okay, no, this was good. They were going to get it for sure this time. It was so obvious, I should've thought of it sooner. When you think of ice, you think of…

...ice skating.

Smiling and sure of myself now, I spread my arms out wide to either side of me and balanced on one foot, like a skater gliding on one blade across a frozen pond.

"Oh, ah… ballerina!"

"Tightrope walker!"

"Er… a tree? Maybe?"

A tree? I looked down at myself. How was this a friggin' tree?!

I locked gazes with Anna and stretched my pose out further for emphasis. Her face was scrunched up in deep thought. Come on, Sis, help me out here. You've seen me ice skate before, you know what it looks like. You got this. Two sisters, one mind. Suddenly her face brightened and she jumped up to her feet. Ha, there it is! I knew she'd get i-

"Michael Jordan!" she yelled, stabbing a finger in my direction.

...nevermind.

Kairi abruptly rocketed up beside her, "Gandalf!"

Anna shook her head, "Pffft, like Gandalf Cube is a thing!"

"And what, like Michael Jordan Cube is?"

Oof, I really shot myself in the foot with that whole cube thing earlier, huh?

As the girls began to bicker amongst themselves while I continued to wobble and sway on one foot, I glanced over towards the boys who were all quietly snickering at our expense. Well, almost all of them. Lea instead seemed rather fascinated by the way I'd stretched and arched my body into its current pose, his eyes half-lidded as they travelled down my curves, his head slightly tilted and teeth still idly gnawing that pencil.

I smirked, a new idea forming inside my head. The girls needed more clues, after all. Planting both feet back on the ground, I bowed at the waist as if reaching down to tie the laces on my imaginary ice skates. As I bent forward, I made sure Lea got just enough of a glimpse down the front of my blouse to give him a hint of something lacy.

He bit the pencil in half with a loud crack!

Okay, I really was enjoying teasing him way too much now.

I think all this power was going straight to my head!

The all-corrupting power of the lingerie...

A gasp suddenly tore out of Anna and she started pointing back and forth between Lea and me, "I saw that! You two secretly communicated! You're working together! Double agent! Cheater!"

My head rocked back and I stammered, "Wha-?! I- How would that even- I am most certainly not-"

"Ahhnnnt!" Kristoff loudly and obnoxiously made a buzzer sound.

"Oh come on, I can't be out of time already!" I told him, crossing my arms.

"You talked, and there's no talking in charades, so consider yourself disqualified," he chuckled, then added, "PS: you actually ran out of time ages ago, we just let you keep going because watching you epically fail so hard was too funny."

Blowing out a tiny huff through my nostrils, I returned to my seat where the rest of the ladies gave me pats on the back and shoulder squeezes to console me. As Anna side-hugged me with one arm, she said, "There, there, Sis, I'm sure the word you got just sucked. Lemme see it," she took the little scrap of paper from me and unfurled it, read it, then blinked. "Ice?!" she snapped incredulously. "You couldn't get ice?!"

I sunk further down into my seat with a groan, pinching the bridge of my nose and making no further comment.

Surprisingly, the game ended in a draw. What I lacked in being able to communicate a concept without the use of words, I more than made up for in my ability to guess what my teammates were acting out. And while I may have been my team's handicap, turns out Lea was theirs. Normally he'd have been one of their stronger players, but it seemed his head just wasn't in the game. Not if the way his eyes kept distractedly drifting over to me while the rest of the boys had to constantly yell at him to focus was any sort of clue.

A couple hours and several rounds later brought us to a point where more than a few stomachs were suddenly loudly grumbling. We decided it was high time to break for dinner, seeing as how cookies and candy canes just weren't cutting it anymore. As everyone else started making their way towards the dining room, I excused myself so I could go freshen up real quick.

As I finished up in the bathroom, I turned the faucet off and flicked my hands a few times to shake away the water before reaching for the towel. Fingers now dried, I took a moment to eye myself in the mirror before straightening my bun and smoothing out my skirt. With a little satisfied nod, I turned, opened the door and-

-came to a screeching stop, looking up and blinking a couple times. "...can I help you?"

Lea smirked back down at me from where he stood in the threshold blocking my exit. Without uttering a word, he just smugly pointed up. My gaze followed his finger and-

Fudge.

Guess what we were both now under?

That's right. He'd moved the mistletoe.

My eyelids drooped at him. "Well now, that's just cheati- mmph!"

His warm lips were suddenly on mine as he grabbed my face in both hands. Unconsciously, my body leaned into his, my hands grasping at his shirt and wrinkling the material as he kissed me long and slow and we just stayed in the doorway there for a few heartbeats, his thumbs tenderly grazing along my cheekbones. Then there was a shift. His breathing turned ragged, his lips more urgent and demanding as a low growl emitted from his throat and Lea started backing me into the bathroom once more, kicking the door shut after him. Without breaking the kiss, he fumbled a hand behind him to lock it then was pushing me up against the sink counter. Lea wasted no time lifting me to sit on top of it, situating his hips between my knees as he hooked his hands beneath them and pulled me up against him roughly. He then wrapped my legs around his waist, fingertips caressing along the stockings, up my thighs and hiking my skirt a bit.

At last he broke the kiss, redirecting his attention to nibble down the side of my throat. Breathless and face hot, I whispered, "Lea, maybe we shouldn't-"

My neck suddenly seared in intense pleasure as his teeth bit down hard at just the right spot and I gasped.

...okay, maybe we should.

He huskily chuckled against my skin, lightly kissing it now as he murmured, "You were saying, Love?"

Desperately trying and failing to unscramble my brain, I began, "I… I was…"

"Mm-hm," he prompted absently as his lips and tongue continued to trail a path down my neck while his fingers pushed the hem of my skirt up a tad further.

"...was saying that… that we, uh…"

"Mm-hm," Lea hummed again, pulling back slightly now with a sly gleam in his crinkled eyes as he reached a hand back over his shoulder, grabbed the back of his tee, and-

Oh wow, there goes the shirt. On the floor. Just like that.

Should.

Lea had just made an extremely compelling argument for should.

I'd mentioned how persuasive he could be, right?

I dazedly watched as he took my hands in his, pressing my palms to his bare chest now as he leaned in to hungrily kiss me again. My fingers took on minds of their own as they began to drift and roam, slowly tracing down the lines and contours of his leanly muscled torso. I shivered as I felt his fingertips skim over the hollow of my shoulder and along my collarbone before settling on the top button of my blouse, tugging to undo it and moving down to the next-

"Elsa!" Several loud, frantic bangs against the door abruptly startled us apart. It took me a second to recognize Sora's voice coming from the other side as he whined, "Hurry up in there, I really, really gotta go!"

"Occupied!" Lea shouted over his shoulder before grinning as he hooked a finger under my chin and bent forward, his lips brushing mine once more.

"...Elsa? Why does your voice sound funny?" Sora asked uncertainly, causing me to snort against Lea's lips. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head, cursing under his breath. The spell had been broken. We both knew it.

I gently pushed him away, scooting myself down off the countertop and snatching his shirt up off the ground to hand to him. Then I took a second to fan myself in a futile effort to cool my face before opening the door and immediately saying, "This isn't what it looks like."

Sora blinked at me. Then his gaze darted to where Lea stood behind me, eyeing Sora sourly as he pulled his tee back on.

...okay, it was exactly what it looked like.

But Sora didn't need to know that!

He blinked again, "Um…"

Deciding to save him from having to come up with a more sophisticated response than that, I simply took Lea's hand in mine and left the bathroom towing him along after me, his dark scowl never leaving Sora as we pushed passed him and headed towards the dining room.

On the way there, we bumped into Rayne in the hallway who was bouncing Cayde in her arms in what seemed to be an attempt to get him to settle down. She arched an eyebrow at me as we drew near. "I thought you were freshening up."

My brow furrowed at her. "...I did."

She eyed me up and down, then snerked. "Sure ya did," was her only remark as she wiggled her eyebrows, shifted the baby to rest against her shoulder and disappeared through the door to join the others for dinner.

I tipped my head to one side, then glanced in a decorative mirror that was hanging on the wall to my left. To say I'd been disheveled would have been the understatement of the century. My skirt was rumpled, my blouse skewed, and I was still bright red from practically head to toe. To top it all off, my hair was free of its bun and positively wild.

"When did you do that?" I narrowed my eyes accusingly at Lea as I did my best to gather and throw it back up into a haphazard bun.

Alright fine, I knew exactly when he did it. I just hadn't even realized he'd done it.

He pursed his lips to one side, shoved his hands into his pockets and gave a tiny shrug as I finished righting my clothes. I then noticed his eyes flick down, suddenly seeming highly fascinated by something. I followed his gaze to spot my top button of my blouse still undone and flashing a scandalous little sneak preview of the lingerie. Blushing harder (the exact opposite of what I wanted to be doing right now, dammit, cheeks!), I hastily re-fastened the button while Lea grinned wolfishly. I pinched his arm, wiping the smirk off his face before taking his hand in mine once more and leading him into the room.

Everyone was seated at the long wooden dining table already and were all too busy laughing and talking over each other to pay much mind to our entrance. As I quietly took a seat, I noticed most of the dishes of piping hot food had already been brought out to the table. Kristoff was bringing out the last of them with my sister's help.

"I'm so happy my man knows how to cook," Anna delightedly chirped as she set down a bowl of yams before giggling and pressing a smooch to Kristoff's cheek. "That way, I don't have to!"

I smiled at the two of them while Lea plonked down into the chair beside me. He laced our fingers together, his thumb idly rubbing along my knuckles as he settled his other elbow onto the table, heavily propped his chin in his palm and heaved a long, drawn out sigh through his nose. His eyes narrowed on Sora as he returned from the restroom and happily crossed the room to take a seat between Riku and Kairi, totally oblivious to the daggers my boyfriend was glaring at him the whole way. Lea then looked away, petulantly huffing out a second grumbly sigh.

It seemed somebody was still a bit pouty over our little interlude in the bathroom being interrupted.

We couldn't have that now, could we? Not on Christmas! Let's see what we can do to perk his spirits a bit.

I shifted ever so slightly in my seat, casually bumping my knee into his as if it were by accident. Lea glanced over at me, quirking an eyebrow. One corner of my lips turned up as I took our still intertwined hands and moved them under the table, releasing his so it could settle on my knee instead. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, his other eyebrow rising to join the first. I grinned coyly, averted my gaze and said nothing, merely waiting for him to take the hint as I reached for the cup of hot cider already waiting for me next to my plate.

Slowly, tentatively, his hand started to slide up my leg, brushing my skirt up with it as he went until he reached the garter. There he paused, his fingertips exploring, grazing over its soft delicate embroidery and toying with it. I could see Lea's face heating as he brought his other hand up to bite down on the knuckle of his curled finger. I just sipped my drink and smiled politely at the conversation the others were carrying on around us. The perfect picture of prim and properness. As if nothing even remotely untoward were happening under the table in the slightest.

Eventually, his hand began tracing the garter down to my inner thigh, discovering where one of the straps connected to it. His fingertips trailed circles over the clasp a couple times before then attempting to follow the strap further up between my legs.

That's when I snagged his wrist, stopping it dead in its tracks and shooting him a flat look.

Sorry, bucko, but that's as far as this little adventure at the dinner table goes.

His muscles were tense. His left eye twitched. But then Lea closed his eyes, released a low, shaky breath and his posture relaxed somewhat as with what appeared to be a considerable amount of visible effort, he willed himself to take his hand back.

"So hey!" Kairi suddenly piped up over everyone else, causing the chatter to die down a bit as all eyes turned towards her. "I brought a buncha Christmas movies with me! You know, all the classics. I was thinking maybe it could be fun for all of us to watch a couple after we finish eating. How does that sound?"

Lea cleared his throat, raking his fingers through his hair as he began, "Actually, El and I had other-"

"What a wonderful idea!" I chimed in brightly before turning to plant a swift peck to the corner of Lea's jawline. "We'd love to, isn't that right, Lea? Since we all know what a fan of the classics you are."

He pressed his lips together into a thin line and simply fixed me with a dull stare.

Oh yes.

No doubt about it.

I was definitely having way, way too much fun teasing him.

It was late. Little Ralphie Parker's father had just thrown aside fistfuls upon fistfuls of packing to liberate the infamous leg lamp from its crate in the movie. A quick glance around the dim room, lit only by the soft glow from the TV screen, revealed everyone to be cozied up together in one way or another as they enjoyed the film.

Rayne was curled up with Riku under a blanket, him turning his head to press an affectionate kiss to the top of her head. Sora was using Kairi's lap as a makeshift pillow, their hands joined and resting atop his chest as they watched. Anna was occupying an armchair with Kristoff seated on the floor before her, using her knees as a backrest while her nimble fingers plaited hundreds of thin, tiny braids into his short blonde hair. Roxas and Xion were taking their turn for some snuggle time with the twins who, even though it was now well past their bedtimes, were being quite obstinate about going to sleep.

Even Saïx had a cuddle buddy, although he was too busy snoring to realize it. It seemed being up during the daylight hours to power through getting all his work done had finally caught up to and taken its toll on him. Back on the couch once more, his laptop lay forgotten on his lap with the screensaver running while he'd conked out nestled into Marshmallow's plush fur beside him. Marshmallow's tail thumped quietly against the couch cushions as he too began to drift off into dreams.

Grinning, I returned my gaze to the movie and settled more comfortably into Lea's side as I laid my head against his chest once again and my arms hugged more tightly around his waist. I could feel him fiddling with a stray lock of my bangs that'd gotten loose, looping and twiddling it between his fingers. Then his hand diverted its attention to instead trail lightly along my bare shoulder, his fingertips drawing invisible patterns there against my skin. It tickled and I involuntarily squirmed against him a bit.

I heard him suck in a soft hiss of breath, shifting in his seat as he hastily removed his hand, fingers splaying and flexing before closing into a fist that he planted firmly on the sofa backrest behind my head now. His knee started furiously jerking up and down. I turned my head to look up at him. His whole body was rigid and his jaw set tight, the very fires of determination seemingly burning in his eyes currently as he focused hard on the movie (perhaps a little too hard), though his gaze kept flicking to the clock hanging on the wall every few seconds.

Frowning, I brought a hand up, brushing my knuckles tenderly over his cheek. Lea stiffened, his whole body suddenly going very still. I altered course to stroke his hair, gently running my fingers through it. His breath hitched as his eyes slowly closed and I could feel him quivering slightly. Then he abruptly snatched my hand, disentangling it from his mess of untamed hair.

I blinked at him.

He pressed a lingering kiss to the back of my hand before settling it on his knee as he ducked his head, bringing his lips right next to my ear as he half whispered, half growled, "Love, it's taking every last ounce of restraint I have not to just throw you on the coffee table and take you in a primal cavemanly fashion, so unless you want to give our friends a bit of a show, I suggest you stop."

...oh dear.

It seemed I'd made him wait a little too long and he was dangerously close to his breaking point.

Thus I decided to finally and at long last take pity on him.

It was time.

Time to let him unwrap his gift.

I stood up, spinning on my heel to face Lea. He stared up at my quizzically, probably leery of getting his hopes up at this point. Smiling sweetly, I reached down, taking his hands in mine and pulling him up to his feet as well as I announced to the rest of the room, "If you'll excuse us, Lea's not feeling too hot, so we're going to head to bed now." His hand still in mine, I led him out of the room and towards the stairs as the others called out a chorus of feel-betters and goodnights after us.

Reaching the second floor, I stepped through our door ahead of him and cast a brief glance about as I stood in the center of the bedroom, taking it in. The traditional rustic wooden walls decorated with a couple small pieces of hanging art here and there. The pair of plump armchairs in one corner next to a homey little fireplace, currently unlit and cold but with plenty of logs just waiting for a spark. The antique wardrobe and dresser off to one side, the door off to another leading into the adjoining private bathroom. The king-sized bed stacked high with blankets and quilts for fighting off the chill later on in the dead of night.

The muted click of Lea shutting the door behind us caught my attention, but I didn't turn to look at him, merely waited. There was a pause. One that was so long and quiet, I almost began to wonder if he'd left for some reason. But then I could all but feel him standing behind me, feel the warmth practically radiating off his body just a few short inches away from mine, sending a tiny chill up my spine and a small flutter through my chest.

His hands found their way to my hair, a simple tug pulling the bun free once more and sending my platinum locks cascading down my back. I shook it out a little more, resisting the urge to shiver at the pleasant tingling sensation brought on by him slowly, almost reverently combing his fingers through the strands. Then his fingertips were trailing along my shoulders and ghosting lightly down my arms where they came to settle comfortably on my hips. I could feel him nestling his face into my hair, pressing a kiss into it as he inhaled deeply, humming low in pleasure as his grip on my hips tightened and his body pressed more firmly up against my back.

At the gentle insistence of his hands, I turned and faced him now. Gosh, he was so tall. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but I wasn't. It was moments like these - moments where no words were spoken and there was so little space between us - that reminded me just how tall he truly was. Not to mention how handsome he was or painfully gorgeous those startlingly green eyes of his were, especially while they were hooded and swirling as darkly as they were now. My pulse couldn't help but pick up the tempo beneath his heated gaze.

The air felt charged between us, nearly unbearably so. I was almost surprised Lea hadn't simply pounced the second we were alone. The slight tremble to his hand as he brought it up to stroke my cheek suggested that might be exactly what he wanted to do but was holding himself back. Perhaps he was going slow because he was wary of this moment being snatched away from him yet again like they all had been so far today. Perhaps he simply wanted to take his time and savor this. Whatever the case may be, as his fingers tangled themselves in my hair and he leaned in now, there was no doubt in my mind all that was about to change. I knew the second his lips met mine, all bets would be off. That last shred of restraint he was barely clinging on to would snap and all that pent up frustration he'd been keeping in check all day would be unleashed and given free rein. My face burned and my heart hammered as he closed the distance, so near now that I could feel his breath warming my lips as he murmured my name and-

"TOOTHPASTE!" I suddenly blurted out loudly.

He jerked back, eyes wide and both eyebrows skyrocketing as if to ask, Um… sorry, who what now?

Which honestly? Couldn't blame him.

So, mouth? Care to explain yourself?

I stammered nonsensically for a bit, wringing my hands together before finally pointing a thumb over my shoulder towards the restroom and managing to get out, "For brush teeth… make m-mint fresh in mouth."

Ah yes, clear as mud now. Thanks, mouth. Your gift for gab never ceases to amaze and astound.

My oh so eloquent words hung in the air between us as we just stared at each other for a few seconds. Then I bolted into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me. Pressing my back to it, I buried my face in my hands and slid down to sit on the floor.

Smooth going there, little Miss Casanova. Just really know how to set the mood, huh?

I groaned and banged the back of my head against the door.

Oh god, Lea was going to think I freaked out because of him. That I didn't want to, hrm… be intimate with him. But I did! I loved being intimate with him! It was something he was very good at! Very, very good! Amazing, in fact! But what did I go and do the second I had a chance to do exactly that with him?

I'd panicked and choked, that's what!

Because this time was different.

This time, lingerie was involved.

Putting it on and teasing him with it was one thing. But lingerie had implications. It set expectations. You were supposed to, I don't know… act sexy… be sexy… you know, that whole feminine wiles things! And my feminine wiles? Still a work in progress. Sure, it was something I'd gotten better at since Lea and I had started dating, but trust me, I still had a long way to go. And yet here I'd gone, riling him up all day and now that the moment had finally arrived where I had to deliver the goods, I'd…

I'd gotten a bit of stage fright, okay?! So sue me!

...maybe I was just being silly. Overthinking all of this. Putting too much pressure on myself for no reason. This was Lea we were talking about here, after all. I could go out there and do the least attractive impression of a sloth in a negligee doing the chicken dance while yodeling and he'd still probably find it sexy. (...dear lord, the fool honestly might. Not even joking anymore.) The point was that he loved me and I loved him, so this shouldn't be such a big deal. One teeny bit of silky, lacy fabric shouldn't be a big deal. Yeah, this was supposed to be fun.

So, missy, you march your little hiney back out there and have fun, dammit!

Nostrils flaring, I pressed a hand to the door behind me and pushed myself up onto my feet once more, turning to look at myself in the mirror. My reflection had fists balled at her hips, her shoulders squared, her head held high, and a look of ironclad resolve flashing in her blue eyes. I leaned forward, planting one hand on the sink countertop and using the other to jab a finger up against the mirror surface as I hissed, "Now listen up and listen good, me! You're going to go out there and… and… knock his friggin' socks off!"

She blinked back at me, visibly gulping with a tiny frown.

My shoulders sagged. "...I think."

Atta girl, that's the fire and can-do attitude we like to hear!

Face hardening once more, I gave myself a firm nod, straightened up and gingerly began unbuttoning my blouse. Once I'd shed it and tossed it to the floor, I slipped out of my skirt as well. Then I stood in front of the mirror inspecting myself, cheeks surely roasting hotter than the fires of Mount Doom. My lips pursed to one side. I awkwardly settled a hand against my right hip. Then I swept my hair forward over one shoulder. Only to brush it back again a second later.

Couldn't decide which way had a more 'come hither' look to it.

Narrowing my eyes, I whisked it forward again.

Then back.

Forward.

Back.

Fo-

Ugh, forget it and move on already!

Just then, I remembered something. Hesitantly, I turned my head, my eyes drifting almost unbidden towards our suitcases cluttered together in one corner of the spacious bathroom. Not really sure why Lea had put them in here when he'd dropped them off earlier. Maybe I'd asked him to and it'd simply slipped my mind. Maybe he'd just been looking for a place to stow them where they'd be out of our way in anticipation of tonight's activities.

Whatever the case may be, they were in here with me now. And that meant…

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I approached them, locating mine and unzipping it. Flipping the lid open, I stared inside and paused in a moment of indecision. Then I grit my teeth and plunged my hand in, digging down deep past my clothes in search of the thing.

You know.

That thing.

The one Anna had made me buy.

I felt my fingers bump into it and I closed them around it, holding my breath before pulling it out. Then I stared down at what I now held in my hand.

A riding crop.

You read that right.

A friggin' riding crop.

Did I have the first clue what to do with it?

Not really, no.

Was I going to bring it out with me anyway?

...sure, why not?

I mean, I was already a bit of a nervous wreck over this whole ordeal, so it was hard to imagine this could make it any worse.

Go big or go home, as they say.

Heart pounding in my ears and insides twisting into a billion, quadrillion knots, I turned to face the door, chin hitched and back straight.

Slinky lingerie? Check. Riding crop? Check… apparently.

Operation Sexy Time was a go.

Let's do this.

I bravely charged forth.

And by that, I mean I opened the door just enough to cautiously poke my head out for a peek.

But I bravely poked my head out cautiously, dammit!

I spotted Lea dejectedly lying on the bed now, sprawled out on his back and smothering his face with a pillow. Heh… off to a good start here. Opening the door wider, I quietly crept a few steps into the room. With how high my blush had cranked up to at this point, it was a wonder I hadn't burnt to a crisp already. My empty hand stiffly found its way to my hip once more. I swept my hair forward again. Then grimaced, pushing it back. Then forw-

Gah, quit fussing, you stupid hands, and just get on with it already!

As Lea still seemed unaware of my presence and with me at a loss for how else to get his attention, I anxiously cleared my throat.

He didn't budge, just groaned into the pillow and muffled out, "What new way have you come to torment me with now, devil woman?"

Such a drama queen. Shaking my head, I began, "Lea-"

"Is there even really lingerie under there or is that just more of your cruel, twisted mind games to string me along and torture me?"

I rolled my eyes with a tiny huff of a snort and tried again, "Lea."

Face still under the pillow, he struck a defiant finger up high into the air, "Well not this guy! Nu-uh, no siree bob! I am done dancing to your sadistic whims! Begone, devious succubus, and tempt me no more with your-"

"Lea!" I snapped exasperatedly, unconsciously smacking my crop against my leg.

Oof, that'd stung a bit.

But it seemed to be what finally caught his attention. He hooked a thumb beneath his pillow now, lazily hoisting it up just enough for him to lift his head and look at me. Then he bolted up into a sitting position, back ramrod straight and eyes all but popping out of his head as the pillow tumbled to the mattress behind him. His wide-eyed gaze met mine. Then darted down to the lingerie. Over to the riding crop in my hand. Then he was madly scrambling to the foot of the bed, sitting on his knees there with his hands gripping the edge of the bedframe hard enough to turn his knuckles white as he heavily and rapidly breathed through his nose.

I just stood there, flushing more furiously and resisting the urge to self-consciously shift my weight from one foot to the other.

OhgodwhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdowhatdoIdowhatdoI-

In a state of mild panic, I abruptly thrust the crop towards him and blurted out, "Shirt. Off."

...sure, that works.

Not missing a beat and faster than should have been humanly possible, Lea yanked his top up over his head and chucked it across the room. Then his eyes fastened on me once more, seemingly eagerly awaiting my next instruction.

Uh…

Nowwhatnowwhatnowwhatnowwhatnowwhatnow-

"Knees," I pointed at a spot on the floor in front of me, "Now."

In his haste to comply, he stumbled and fell out of the bed, crashing into the floor but was quick to recover and prop himself up on his knees before me.

Fudgewhatnextwhatnextwhatnextwhat-

Swat your thigh with the thingie again!

...I'm sorry, brain, do what now?

Well, I mean… it seemed to be highly well received just a second ago, so…

Pulse racing, I hesitated for a split second before piercing the air with another sharp thwack of the riding crop hitting my skin. His muscles visibly grew taut and tense, but he stayed put, his throat emitting an impatient whimper.

...was it really this easy?

...this actually was kind of fun…

Feeling some of the nervous tension start to ebb from my body, I slowly began to circle him now, lightly tapping the lash of the crop into the palm of my other hand as I murmured, "Now… what, oh what am I going to do with you?"

Lea released a deep, throaty chuckle. "...I might be able to think of a thing or two…"

Coming to a stop in front of him once again, I bowed down to his eye level, using the riding crop to lift his chin as I grinned at him. "I'm listening."

For the record, zero sleep was had that Christmas night.

The lingerie did not survive Lea's ravenous onslaught.

We may have also slightly broken that antique dresser.

Oops. Guess they just don't make those things as sturdy as they used to.

Author's Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR! And based on this chapter, have another (belated) merry Christmas xD Figures that my longest chapter to date had to be the friggin' lingerie chapter xD I am almost ashamed of myself… BUT NOT REALLY! No regrets, yolo! Lol, I hope you all had as much fun reading this as I had fun writing it :D

Fun Fact: This was actually the first bonus chapter idea I came up with for this story. It came to me about a year ago while I was still working on chapter… 17 I think? I wanted to immediately start writing it, but I restrained myself, wanting to finish the main story first. But having a whole year with this one-shot in the back of my mind is probably why it ended up being so long, cuz I kept coming up with more little ideas to squeeze into it xD Then of course, I started coming up with the ideas for the other bonus chapters that came before it, forcing myself to wait even longer to write it but aaahhhhhh, yay, I finally got to this one! And did I include Esmeralda's Secrets all the way back in chapter 19 specifically with this bonus chapter in mind? Yes, yes I did x'D Of course, I knew this whole time Esmeralda herself was gonna be making an appearance, but Frollo turned out to be a last minute addition that came to me as I was writing the chapter. But including him made me realize I had a missed opportunity: on one of Lea's and Elsa's many visits to the mall's clock tower which has BELLS, they should've bumped into a certain hunchback who's in charge of maintaining said bells xD Ah well, even tho they never saw him in the story, I've made it canon now: that is officially Quasimodo's job in this AU xD And he's always embarrassed about his adoptive father protesting with his picket signs outside the store of the cute girl he has a crush on xD Poor guy!

So many lines I snagged from the video games and the movies as references this chapter, I wonder if you guys were able to catch every single little one I slipped in? xD And obviously Elsa's fave musical that's playing at Broadway is Frozen 2 (since that's where Show Yourself that she sang back in auditions was from) but I didn't want to CALL it that in the story, but had zero ideas for a clever replacement title, so it didn't get a name xD And while I gave a few details here and there, for the most part I left the lingerie Elsa purchased vague on purpose - I figure some things are just best left to the imagination ;P Lea doesn't usually have such a one track mind as he did this chapter… or maybe he does and he's just usually more tactful about concealing it xD Either way, Lea ALSO isn't usually presented with the possibility of his very hot girlfriend dressing up in sexy lingerie for him, so can ya really blame the guy for being a bit of a horndog this chapter? I think not xP Worry not however, he'll be back to his normal, (slightly) more classy self next chapter xD You can bet tho that now that he knows Elsa has been to the dirty store in the mall, that he has since dragged her back there on more than one occasion now so they could make a few purchases as a couple, hehehe :3 But like I said all the way back at the very beginning, despite the main subject of the chapter, it was still all fairly tame, right? I haven't yet crossed THAT particular line… I may come right up to the line, dance wildly and with reckless abandon on top of the line, but not cross it xD I dunno if I'll ever be brave enough to write a full-on lemon, but maybe one day…. Hehehehe…

Anyhoo, tis with a sad and heavy heart that I must announce that this will probably be my last update for a while. Don't worry, there's more to come! I still have at least 3 more bonus chapters for this story planned! However, I've been working on almost nothing but this story for over a year now and I've finally hit a point where I need a break xD I think I'm gonna take a few weeks and have a breather from writing in general, but trust me, that won't last for long before the itch takes hold of me once again and I'll NEED to scratch it! When that happens, I'm not sure what I'm gonna work on next - it'll be Axelsa, without question, that's just my brand yo, it has bewitched my very SOUL xD But WHICH Axelsa story is the question! Will I update one of my older incomplete stories over on FFN/AO3 or will I get back to work on that new story I have the first 3 chapters written of that I've yet to share with you all? Guess we'll seeeeeeeeeeee xD I might eventually start posting some of my older stories here on tumblr too - they’re all incomplete currently tho and I was hoping to finish them before I started sharing them here, but I might not be able to resist in the end. I have commissioned a couple artists recently, so hopefully you’ll be seeing those soon! I’ll have more of my own personal fanart to share too in the hopefully near future, I just need to wait for my hand to recover as I sprained it being the irresponsible dope that I am and have had to put my doodling on hold while it recuperates xD All of that is to say, you’ll be hearing from me and my Axelsa obsession again in some form or another in the near future, you can count on it!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

[itsy-bitsy-spider-fan]

Hold On to Me (I’m A Little Unsteady)

By @itsy-bitsy-spider-fan for @imgoingtocrash​

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Morgan Stark, Happy Hogan, May Parker. 

AO3 Link

Summary: 

“Can we just not do this right now?” Peter asked tiredly, glancing at Tony.

There was a beat of silence, and unexpected anger was rising in both of them. Tony because he was tired of seeing Peter deteriorate, and Peter because… well Peter didn’t really know. But he didn’t want to breach this right now. He didn’t want Tony to push him into saying something he shouldn’t. He felt like he was standing at a precipice high above an abyss, and he could either step back and give in to Tony by telling him everything that was going on --- everything Peter was feeling --- or he could stay in place and let the ledge crumble beneath him.

After the reversal of the Snap, Peter isn't doing as okay as he pretends he is. Luckily, he has a certain mentor in his corner to help him through it.

Peter knew what was happening to him, but he couldn’t stop it.

***

Hold On To Me (I’m a Little Unsteady)

The Blip had drudged up everything: every fragment of trauma he’d experienced, every bad thing that had ever happened to him (and it was a whole laundry list at that point), every loss he’d faced. He saw it every night.

Peter could count on one hand the amount of sleep (hours) that he’d gotten in the past two weeks. Getting through the day was agonizing, but at night, when he was alone and suffocated by thoughts he’d tricked himself into thinking were behind him, it was worse.

It wasn’t like Peter wanted to stay awake. Needing sleep was the only comprehensible thought that Peter managed nowadays. But the tradeoff wasn’t worth it. Seeing his uncle fall back, a gunshot piercing his brain and jolting him awake and upright wasn’t worth it. A building crumbling, collapsing, crushing him while he screamed for help wasn’t worth it.

Reliving the experience of fading to dust wasn’t worth it.

So he stopped. Stopped trying to sleep and started trying to crash. Peter waited until the exhaustion was too much for his body to physically handle and he crashed, too worn out for his mind to conjure up anything that might jerk him awake with a scream lodged in his throat and knives lodged in his lungs.

His mistake wasn’t staying awake.

It was thinking that pushing himself to the brink wouldn’t catch up with him.

Peter leaned his head against the window of Happy’s black SUV --- a new one, a different one than he’d ridden in five years ago --- lightheaded from the energy drink he’d chugged five minutes before getting in the car. His overnight bag was carelessly tossed onto the seat beside him.

Though his body seemed to buzz with energy, Peter could tell that it wasn’t real. He had maybe a half hour before that buzzing feeling was replaced with tiredness, and he’d be back to dragging himself through the day and pasting on smiles so that nobody would notice that he wasn’t as okay as he tried to be.

Or maybe he’d get lucky, and the energy drink would mimic the natural flurry of excitement that, according to Tony, Peter used to light up rooms with. It was just another he hadn’t quite managed to get back from before the Snap.

Sometimes, Peter thought that some parts of him were still on Titan. That not all of him had been put back together after Tony had reversed Thanos’ actions. As for Tony… seeing him helped as much as it hurt.

It was hard to see past the red and gold prosthetic arm. It was as much as a symbol that Tony was okay as it was a symbol that Peter hadn’t been good enough during the fight. His train of thoughts tended to be pretty depressing whenever he visited the lakehouse. “What ifs” were his weakness. What if he had been faster? What if he had stopped Quill? What if he’d been better, like Tony wanted?

And when he thought of the final battle: What if I had gotten there first?

The Iron Spider was similar to the suit Tony had worn. It could have formed the gauntlet. Peter could have snapped. Could have taken the hit of the ancient magic. Peter could’ve walked away from it. Right?

In the month that Tony had spent recovering and in a coma, Peter had stayed at the man’s bedside --- well. He'd stayed in a chair in the corner of the same room. He couldn’t bear to infringe on the space that belonged to Pepper, and Rhodey, and Happy, and --- and Morgan.

He never voiced his internal anguish, never talked about the dreams he had where he had taken the stones, and he had ended it all. Instead, he distracted himself by borrowing a tablet from a certain genius Wakandan princess and started fleshing out a design for a prosthetic arm. At first, it was nothing more than a means for peace, a cathartic activity. Then Tony, not long after waking, had seen it, and Shuri had built it, and Peter decided that he needed to do more. “Fixing” Tony’s arm was not enough.

He had to go back. Back to the Peter that May wanted, that she used to know, that Peter had been before. Peter thought that if May didn’t spend so much time deluding herself that Peter had come back in one piece, it wouldn’t be so easy to pretend she had.

That’s why Peter was on his way to the lakehouse. He liked it there, liked it more. And it wasn’t just because being at the lake was less stifling that being in the city. It was because Tony understood better than anyone the way that Peter felt, even if Peter never outright said anything. Tony pressed offhandedly, but when Peter shrugged him off, Tony gave him space. Enough to let him breathe without completely detaching himself from Peter.

“Kid?”

Happy’s voice was edged with concern and when Peter blinked, they weren’t moving anymore. The lakehouse stood in front of him, and trees made up the horizon around them. On the front porch, Peter spotted Tony immediately, and Pepper beside him. Little Morgan peeked out from behind them, dark eyes narrowed. She was still in the process of warming up to Peter (though Tony had assured him that it was a given.)

“Sorry, Hap,” Peter mumbled, popping open the door and swinging his bag over his shoulder. “See you Sunday.”

“Two o'clock on the dot,” Happy agreed.

Peter walked up to the house, and a small burst of warmth managed to loosen the tightness in his chest. Tony and Pepper both greeted Peter with a smile. Morgan was still watching him with curiosity. He probably needed to spend more time with her if he could manage.

“I’m making carbonara for dinner,” Tony told him, slinging an arm over Peter’s shoulder as they walked inside.

Peter shot a startled look at Pepper without thinking. The last time Tony had cooked for Peter --- BT (Before Thanos) --- they’d become distracted and the lasagna that Tony swore he could make in his sleep turned out worse than the store bought ones May liked to (try to) cook on Thursdays.

Pepper caught his look and laughed, “Don’t worry. He’s gotten much better.”

Tony made an offended noise, but Peter was already slipping back into his thoughts while they bickered, tripped up on how easily the joke had come. He headed upstairs to deposit his bag in the guest room and wondered if maybe this weekend would end up going fine. That he ’d be fine.

He should have known better. He didn’t even make it through the day.

Things went fine until dinner. The buzz of the energy drink predictably disappeared after an hour, though Peter was still clinging onto the hope that nothing would go wrong. But then Tony had pressed him after dinner, questioned how he’d been doing, how things with May and Happy were going, if he’d talked to May, if he was okay.

“Tony,” Pepper said quietly, when she noticed the way that Peter had gone tense, stifled anger warming his face.

Tony shot her a glance in acknowledgement, but his face was set and determined. “I just want to know how he’s doing, Pep.”

Peter wondered why just that much was leading him to irritation. “And I told you I’m doing fine, Mister St-- uh, Tony.”

“Mr. Tony?” Tony repeated, and Peter rolled his eyes, stabbing at his carbonara with his fork. “That’s new.”

“Can we just not do this right now?” Peter asked tiredly, glancing at Tony.

There was a beat of silence, and unexpected anger was rising in both of them. Tony because he was tired of seeing Peter deteriorate, and Peter because… well Peter didn’t really know. But he didn’t want to breach this right now. He didn’t want Tony to push him into saying something he shouldn’t. He felt like he was standing at a precipice high above an abyss, and he could either step back and give in to what Tony wanted by telling him everything that was going on --- everything that Peter was feeling --- or he could stay in place and let the ledge crumble beneath him.

“No,” Tony decided after a beat, stubbornness etched onto his face. Clearly, he’d been planning this ambush for a while. “Peter, just talk to me, kid.” He hesitated. “Or even if not me, then talk to May---”

“What do you want me to say, Tony?” Peter cut in, setting his fork down forcefully. He was breathing hard. Part of him wanted to know the answer to his rhetorical question.

“At this point? Anything. Tell me what’s wrong---”

“Just lay off me,” Peter half-yelled instead.

They both snapped their mouths shut when Morgan jumped, eyes wide and looking at both of them.

Peter grew angrier, but he was unwilling to admit that most of that anger was at himself. For not putting up as good of an act as he thought he was, for scaring Morgan, for yelling at Tony.

“Kid, calm down---”

“Or what?” Peter spat. “You’re going to take my suit? Ground me?” Tony’s face twisted with indignation and Peter stood, knocking his chair down in the process.

He stood up too fast though. The floor lurched under his feet, swinging back and forth like a pendulum, and black spots danced across his vision. Tony’s anger melted to concern and he reached forward but Peter batted his hand away and gripped the table instead. Unwilling to prove Tony’s point that Peter was very much not okay, he kept going.

“Well, newsflash, Tony. You don’t get to do that anymore. You never did.”

“Is that what you think?” Tony challenged, sufficiently distracted again.

“Yeah,” Peter answered, breathing heavily.

He hadn’t noticed Pepper take Morgan out of the room, but at some point, she had. It was just Tony and Peter, staring each other down.

“Sit down, Peter,” Tony said harshly. “I just want to talk.”

“ Why ?” Peter breathed, angry and disbelieving, both at once. “Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Because---” Tony stopped, pursing his lips. “It doesn’t matter. I know you’re hurting---”

Peter scoffed bitterly. “Of course that’s what you say. You think you know everything, but you don’t. And I’m not some math equation that you can just solve because you’re bored. So quit pretending to be a father and leave. Me. Alone. ”

It was a low blow, and Peter knew it. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care, or even stop to see the shock and hurt play across Tony’s face. Instead, he turned and stomped upstairs, heart beating rapidly. Blood rushed in his ears, almost drowning out the sound of Pepper and Tony talking downstairs --- apparently she hadn’t gone far.

Peter swept over to his bag and furiously began unzipping it. At the bottom, exactly where he’d left them, were his webshooters and his suit. Peter was clipping his webshooters onto his wrists when he heard footsteps and a small voice behind him. He turned, freezing at the suit of Morgan hovering in the doorway, looking unsure.

“Peter?” she asked quietly. “What are you doin’?”

Peter unfroze, shaking his head. “I’m leaving. I’ll--- I’ll see you later.”

He headed over to the window, opening it. Without looking away from the ground fifteen feet below, he heard Morgan take a few cautious steps into the room. Peter sighed. Anger still raged through his veins, but he knew better than to take it out on a kid, especially Morgan.

“But why?” she questioned. “We didn’t even have dessert yet.”

“I know,” Peter said quickly, deciding to only put his mask on, leaving his suit in a twisted heap on the bed. “It’s fine.”

He was halfway out the window, one leg hooked over the sill, when Morgan whispered, “Bye.”

Peter felt regret clench in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t be leaving. It was just a dumb fight, and really, it was Peter’s fault. Most of the anger that he’d taken out on Tony was derived from anger he had for himself.

But he wanted to act out. Wanted to be angry instead of face the exhaustion that never left him, or the fear that made it hard to breathe all the time. Or even the nightmares that, no matter what he did, never went away. His hands were shaking, he realized.

Peter leapt from the sill and landed on the damp earth without error. He glanced back when he paused for a deep breath. Morgan was standing at the window, leaning out and looking at him. Wind whipped her hair around her face.

Peter broke his gaze away and took off through the trees.

The knowledge that May and Happy were on a date night was what compelled him to stop by the apartment and put on his suit. He’d received too many shouted, “Who are you?”s from New Yorkers who recognized Spider-Man’s brand but were probably shocked to see him after a five and a half year break.

It only took an hour of patrolling for the regret to really set in. Tony had only tried to call him once, and Peter had ignored him.

Before the Blip, Tony would have called again and pushed it through. But that's not what he did. He just left Peter to his own devices, even though Peter was starting to realize that's not what he wanted.

Normality. That's what he wanted. He wanted it back. Bad. That seemed to be the root of his problems. He wanted things to go back to normal. Where having a conversation with May wasn't painful. When Peter could tell Tony anything. When waking up from breath-stealing nightmares wasn't an everyday occurrence.

Peter perched on the top of a building and let out a deep breath. He'd have to apologize. At least for the last part, because Tony had confessed to him more than once how much his own father had made him wary of his ability to be one. And Peter had thrown that in his face.

Peter stood, stretched, and started thinking about what he'd say.

I'm sorry.

The obvious starter but not enough.

I'm drowning. He could tell Tony everything. And Tony would help him tell May but May… would be so disappointed. Wouldn't she?

I didn't mean it.

Back to Tony, because Tony was the one that Peter had thrown cruel words at like knives.

A shrill scream and a grunt pierced through Peter's thoughts, and he snapped back into reality.

Looking down on the street revealed a woman being pulled into an alleyway by a hooded man.

One more save, Peter decided. Then to the lake house.

Looking back on the moment that he leapt from the building, he wondered: was he stupid for thinking that anything could go right? That it would? Or was he just too tired to realize that something was off about the alleyway attack he was about to interrupt?

The woman was nowhere to be found when he swung to the ground, but the hooded man was standing with his back to Peter.

"I knew you'd come," came the low, gravelly voice of the man. "Spider-Man always does."

Peter swallowed uncomfortably, feeling the familiar spider sense of his crawl up his neck. "Where did she go?"

Finally the man turned, a cruel, taunting smile pulling at his thin lips. "Pity. They told me you were smarter than this."

"Smarter than---"

Crack!

A baseball bat slamming into the back of his head. Pain shooting through his skull, white hot and breathtaking. Vision shuddering and warping.

Peter stumbled onto his knees, blindly firing a web behind him, but the newcomers had the upper hand, would have had it even if he hadn't have spectacularly missed like he did.

Panic streaked through him when he felt arms grabbing him, pulling him, dragging him backwards over cracked and dirty asphalt.

One clear thought filtered through his mind. Tony.

"Karen," he croaked, only for his hopes to be shot when hands fisted the back of his mask, pulled it off. "N-no---"

Another brain-rattling blow to the back of his head and Peter's thrashing and twisting lessened. His fights were almost completely dulled when two needles slid into his neck: either darts or syringes but both containing some kind of concoction that made his stomach flip and his limbs feel heavy.

The people who had him stopped dragging him and hefted him in the air, carrying him to the mouth of the alleyway, where the shadow met the street.

They were approaching a running vehicle, Peter realized, and his thoughts melted together. They were taking him oh God and he'd been so stupid, hadn't told anywhere where he was and he needed to tell Tony sorry, to tell May sorry that he didn't fight hard enough to get away ---

A loud bang reverberated through the alley, so intense that it drew a strangled gasp from Peter's mouth. A blast of heat washed over his body, too confusing for his muddled thoughts to comprehend. Then the arms digging into him were pulling away and he was falling.

He slammed into the concrete on his back, mere feet away from the awaiting van. Peter groaned and rolled onto his side, gripping his head as another wave of pain slashed through it, coupled with more bang s that made him grip his ears in agony.

He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw and swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat, and just when he was at the brink, when his vision was starting to dim --- pain and overstimulation to his senses dragging him into an abyss --- all became quiet.

"Peter," someone breathed, voice shaking and scared but familiar. "Pete. Kid. Open your eyes for me."

Peter didn't want to. Didn't want to open his eyes and realize he was dreaming this up because Tony was mad at him, Tony wouldn't be here, but---

There he was, when Peter hazily cracked open his eyes. Crouching in front of Peter in the suit, though the faceplate was retracted. Concern was etched in every line of his face.

"Tony," Peter croaked, overwhelmed with regret and fear but also relief.

The pain was still there, too. Pulsing through his skull like a thick, hot fire poker being stabbed into his head over and over again.

"I'm right here, kid," Tony said. "I'm going to get…"

Tony didn't trail off. Rather, Peter found safety in his voice, his presence, and the tension seeped out of his body --- as did every ounce of consciousness that he'd been hanging on to.

When he woke up in the hospital room, he'd thought he'd be alone. He remembered pretty quickly what had happened, and the guilt still clung to him like wet clothes. He'd be disappointed, but not surprised, if the chairs surrounding his bed were empty.

Somehow, they weren't.

May was the first one he saw, and his chest tightened. She didn't see him stir, and neither did Happy. Tony, asleep in a chair on Peter's other side, didn't stir yet either.

It wasn't until Peter sat up --- and regretted the motion instantly since it made his head hurt like no other, drawing a shaky gasp from his lips --- did May look up. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw Peter struggling to move his pillows to support an upright position.

"May," Peter said, voice gravelly from disuse.

It was then, at the hoarse sound of Peter's voice, that Tony jerked awake, eyes flickering around the room before landing on Peter. Almost comically, Happy remained asleep.

"Kid," Tony said, moving forward like he wanted to reach Peter's hand.

May moved at the same time, and Tony jerked back, glancing at May like she might yell at him.

May paused, glancing from Tony to Peter before staying on Tony. "Don't fool yourself, Tony. He's your kid, too."

Tony looked at her, then nodded. When May looked away, Peter saw relief cross Tony's face, and he tentatively reached forward to grab Peter's other hand, waiting for Peter's nod of approval before actually grabbing it.

"I'm so sorry," Peter whispered. "To both of you. For fighting with you, Tony, and for not calling you May and---"

"We can talk about that later," Tony said, and May nodded in agreement, chewing her lip nervously.

Peter wanted to protest, wanted to apologize until it was drilled in their head how sorry he was, but a man in scrubs stepped into the room, and his attention was torn away. He glanced at Tony panickedly. This wasn't the same, confidential doctor that Peter had grown used to before the Blip.

"He knows you're enhanced," Tony said, squeezing Peter's hand. "And he's trustworthy. He specializes in enhanced people."

Peter glanced back at the man, who stepped forward with a kind smile. "That's right. I'm Doctor Weber. Do you know your name?"

Peter nodded slowly. "Peter Parker, sir."

Weber smiled again. Peter figured if the man was dangerous, his Spider Sense would have let him know already.

He didn't think about how unreliable it had been when he was sustaining the very injury he was in the Medbay for.

"The sedative your assailants used has already been metabolized," Weber began as he fiddled around with the nearby machines and screens. "There should be no lasting effects, but I am more worried about the fractured skull."

Peter winced, resisting the urge to prod the back of his head.

"I have a few precautionary questions…"

Peter answered Weber's questions correctly and was given another dosage of souped-up pain meds. He tried not to let his heavy eyes fall closed, but before he knew it, they were slipping shut… and his body was heavy and he was tired…

But he had to know who had done this to him in the first place. He managed to force his eyes open and glanced at Tony, who would probably start with the truth instead of trying to censor it to protect him like May would.

"Who did this?" he managed.

Tony's eyes went dark with a familiar anger, the one he saved for whenever someone targeted Peter and landed Peter in the Medbay. "Natasha's working on it as we speak, but so far, we think they may have been a splinter group from Hydra."

Peter nodded drowsily. "I am… safe?"

His tongue felt like it was made of rubber.

"You're safe, kid," Tony affirmed as May squeezed Peter's hand.

"Sleep, Peter," May instructed softly. "We'll be here when you wake up."

That turned out to be a lie, because the next time Peter opened his eyes, it was just him and Tony. Tony had a tablet in his lap and was video-calling someone.

Peter stayed quiet, not wanting to intrude, but Tony noticed him anyways. The soft grin on his face dropped and was replaced with stone.

"I'll be up later, Pep," Tony said, not looking away from Peter, who instantly felt worse for pulling Tony away from his conversation with his family. "Bye."

"Where's May?" Peter asked quietly.

Tony set his tablet down on the empty chair next to him. "She went upstairs with Happy. Said it was to shower but I think she knew that your meds were wearing off and wanted to give us a chance to talk." Tony paused. "A great woman, your aunt is."

Peter nodded, but there was a lump in his throat that kept him from speaking. Peter didn’t know if it was a big fat ball of regret or just plain emotion. Tony looked at him and sighed.

"I'm not mad, Peter."

Peter looked down at his lap. “You should be.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was,” Tony said, and even though his voice was light, it sounded strained. “But then Weber showed me your charts, and Friday ran some scans. They estimate that when I brought you in, you hadn’t slept for thirty-two hours, Peter.”

When Peter said nothing, Tony said, “Did you know that skipping on sleep for so long causes moodiness and irritability?” It was a question with an answer that Tony didn’t want an answer for. “Now, there’s a lot of fun side effects to sleep deprivation --- hell, I’ve been there more times than I can count --- but I think those two matter the most in this situation.” He eyed Peter scrutinizingly. “What do you think?”

Peter swallowed. “That I’m an idiot.” Peter paused. “And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be---”

“ Not just for our--- our fight,” Peter said urgently, needing to get the weight off of his chest that it had been crushing his lungs and ribs for weeks. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Tony was clearly unwilling to push on that, probably after what happened last time, but Tony didn’t need to. The truth was already spilling out: a dam that should have come down a long time ago.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” Peter confessed, unable to meet Tony’s eyes. “Bad ones. And I’m… I’ve been too scared to sleep because every time I close my eyes I see you, dying. Or Thanos snapping, or my uncle, or--- just. Everything, Tony.”

Tony’s face was masked off, but his words were soft. “You should have told me, kid. You should’ve came to me sooner---”

“I know, ” Peter breathed, and when he looked back at Tony, his eyes were shiny with tears. “But I didn’t want to bother you when you were still..” He waved his hand vaguely towards Tony’s prosthetic arm, which was mostly covered by the gray hoodie that the man wore. “And I was scared that you would think, I don’t know, less of me? That I couldn’t be part of the team and I couldn’t lose Spider-Man even if I haven't been him for a while because that’s all I had left from the old me---”

Tony’s mind was spinning like lottery slots, probably because he was processing Peter’s ramblings at light speed. He clearly didn’t know where to start, but his voice was firm and insistent when he reached out, gripped Peter’s shaking hand and said, “Kid, there is no old you, okay? You’re still Peter Parker, you’re still my kid, and having nightmares or trauma doesn’t make you weak or take that away from you.”

Peter sniffed, ready to say something, but Tony wasn’t done. “Trauma isn’t something you can just push away and get over. Not when you’re dealing with things like Thanos or any villain you’ve faced as Spider-Man for that matter. Fighting people, putting them away, seeing death: it follows you home. It sucks. And I say that as the posterboy of PTSD.”

Peter wiped his eyes, disbelief shining in them. Tony had never opened up about that kind of stuff before, though Peter had pressed after Homecoming whenever he spent the night at the Compound.

“We’ve both gone through some shit,” Tony said. “It’s not ideal, but it’s part of the job. An occupational hazard, if you will. We might as well make that a prerequisite for joining the Avengers.”

“That doesn’t make me feel much better,” Peter joked with a watery laugh.

“I’m trying to say,” Tony continued, “that we’re here to help. All of us, but especially me. Right now. I’m going to do whatever it takes to put a smile back on your face, okay?”

Peter studied his face, and after a beat, nodded. “Okay.” He looked down, toying with the blanket in his lap. “Will you help me talk to May?”

Tony stood, and for a brief, terrifying moment, Peter thought that he was leaving. But instead, he gently nudged Peter’s leg out of the way, and Peter scooted over to the side of the bed to make room for Tony to lay down. Peter couldn’t help but smile when Tony crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, like they were sunning on a towel on the beach and not squished together in a hospital bed in the Medbay.

“Like I said,” Tony answered, “Whatever it takes.”

Peter nodded, which quickly turned to him yawning. The conversation --- plus the fractured skull --- had worn him out. Exhaustion, but a different kind, was already dragging him into sleep.

But even with his eyelids drooping and bodily tension disappearing, he still heard Tony murmur, “I invented time travel for you, kid. I’m not giving up on you now.”

[scribbling-stiks]

Heart Strings - VIII - The Trains are Getting Very Suspicious

When America wakes up the next morning, Alaska is jumping over him, begging him to wake up.

"Good mornin' kiddo. What's up?" America asks, groggy.

"Grandpa isn't awake yet, but I wanted to play a game," Alaska says with a bright grin.

"Okay. Hold on, okay?" America says, waving her off.

Alaska beams before turning around and disappearing out the door. America sits up and rubs his face. He turns over and sees Russia stretching.

"Hey," America says, "sorry if she woke you up."

"It's okay," Russia replies, rubbing his eyes.

'Oh my god, your hair is so fluffy.'

America holds back the impulse to reach over and just mess with it.

"Can I use your bathroom?" America stammers out looking away with color in his cheeks.

"What? Oh... yes. Go ahead," Russia replies, waving him out, "there are extra towels in the closet beside it."

America nods nervously before getting up. He grabs a change of clothes and disappears into the bathroom to clean himself up.

'I hope Alaska can stay out of trouble for just a few minutes.'

America begins to fret about his own clothing choices when he starts trying to fix his, now wet, hair.

'I don't want to look like an idiot!'

'Russia is so much better than this.'

After a few tries, and a little styling gel, he gets it to stand up the way he likes it and he smiles.

'At least I still know how to do it.'

'If only my clothes could've matched a little more.'

'Oh well, too late now.'

There is a knock on the door and he unlocks it, still brushing his teeth. Alaska kicks open the door, and America jumps.

"It's breakfast time, and I want to shower," Alaska announces bluntly.

America spits out the foamy mess into the sink and laughs.

"No time for nonsense then, huh?" America asks, rinsing out his mouth and running the sink again to drain everything.

"Nope!" Alaska replies, pushing America out, "no time. Now gooooooo. Russia's waiting for you!"

"Wait. What are you-"

Alaska closes the door.

America sighs in bemusement.

'Am I really that obvious?'

America walks out to see Russia very tiredly eating something out of a small bowl. He smiles awkwardly. Russia doesn't look up at first.

"What is that?" America asks.

Russia's head jerks up and he glances at America before looking away. America can pinpoint Russia's embarrassment and shock as it comes through the link, and he laughs a little.

'I wonder what it is.'

'This emotions thing is getting a little easier.'

'It's probably because of practice.'

"It's kasha," Russia finally answers, sounding a little flustered, "do you want some?"

"Please," America replies with a nod.

Russia hops up, dropping an unaccompanied small bowl into the sink as he reenters the kitchen. He hands America the bowl, and their fingers brush. America jerks a little at the sparks that he feels in his fingers. Russia retakes his seat, and America eats while the house starts to come to life with activity.

"Do you want to come with me to set up the meeting room?" Russia asks, pointing at America with his spoon.

"Yeah, sure," America says before he could consider the opposite.

Then he curses himself.

'Why did I agree to that?!'

'It's better than being stuck here with Soviet,' America thinks with a shiver.

'I'm gonna make a fool of myself.'

'D*** it all!'

"I bought 4 tickets anyway," Russia continues, " and I don't think Ukraine or Belarus would mind much if you come instead."

"Are you joking? I never wanted to go!" Ukraine says, taking a seat at the table.

Russia chuckles.

Eventually, Alaska emerges and asks America to do her hair. America complies, swiftly pulling it up into ponytails. Alaska giggles in excitement.

"Would you like to come with Russia and me to set up for tomorrow's meeting?"

"Uh, YEAH!" Alaska says, "Why did you even ask?!"

America laughs. Russia disappears soon after to get washed up and dressed, and America bids his time until he's stuck in closed quarters with Russia again.

The walk to the train station is cold,  but not dramatically so. America had come prepared, after all.

'Though I do wish I brought some thicker socks.'

Russia hands the tickets over and the walk on. The train car looks deserted. They sit together in the carriage, and Russia locks the door.

'Great. Now I'm stuck here.'

Alaska bounces on his bunk and pointing out the window.

"Look, Daddy! Look!"

America turns to see her point as some of the landscaping they pass.

"Mh-hm. I see," America says, peaking over Alaska's shoulder.

Eventually, the scenery loses his attention and his eyes lock on Russia's face. Russia is staring out the window, his head in his hand, leaning against the window sill. America admires Russia's face with a love-struck stare. His mind begins to wander.

'So pretty.'

'I want a hat.'

'Wanna hug him.'

'Snow is stupid.'

'Russia is so handsome.'

'Is very kind.'

'Kinda wanna kiss him.'

America's cheeks grow hot, but can't take his eyes away.

'I shouldn't be thinking about that.'

Russia looks up and meets America's eyes. America looks away, embarrassed. He feels Russia's amusement and crinkles his nose.

"Don't laugh at me," America mumbles, staring determinately out the window.

Russia chuckles, and America can feel his glee leaking through.

Then, he feels someone kick his foot. He looks down and sees Russia kicking at him with a smirk, and if America focuses, he can feel the playful attitude from Russia. America's scowl turns to a grin when he kicks back.

America presses his back on the wall and kicks his feet against Russia's. Russia laughs and returns the favor. America kicks playfully, and can't help the giddy laughter that rises from the back of his throat.

America playfully hits at Russia and tries to straighten his legs, and Russia fights to do the same. America grins wide enough to make his cheeks ache and he giggles.

Russia ultimately wins their little competition, and America pouts, crossing his arms.

Then, the motion from the hallway outside the carriage catches America's attention. His expression drops and his head whips around to stare out the small window built into the door.

He doesn't see anyone.

"What's wrong?" Russia asks, concern in his tone.

"I thought I saw something, but I also thought no one else was in our train car."

"I didn't see anyone else get on," Russia comments, curiously looking out the window on the door.

America hums and stares out the window, waiting for the flash of red to return. Nothing ever does. He nervously starts analyzing his surroundings but doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. Even still, dread gnaws at him.

The train ride is long, and America finds himself spacing out a little.

'I wonder if Russia likes me back.'

'No, he probably doesn't.'

'Even if he did, I can't....'

'Stupid soulmates..'

America crosses his arms. Russia gives him a concerned look, but America ignores it.

'I saw something outside though.'

'It could've been nothing.'

'I have a bad feeling about it.'

The rest of the train ride is uneventful, but America isn't in the mood to continue joking around like he had before. He tries to shake off the dread buried in his stomach but finds it nearly impossible. He can feel Russia's worry but waves it off. He offers Russia a reassuring smile, and Russia returns it with one of his own. America looks away, trying not to get too worked up over it.

'He is so god d*** cute.'

The train rolls to a stop and America dawns his coat. He walks out, Russia on one side and Alaska on the other. America hangs back while Russia does the negotiating. Though he could understand every word, he doesn't say anything, afraid that he'll intrude

They arrive at the building around early afternoon, and America walks through the slushy snow to get to the entrance, holding Alaska to keep her out of the sludge.

America does get strange looks from the security personnel, and many gave Alaska accusing looks. America glares back, the message of 'don't f*** with my child,' clear in his eyes. Russia slows a little and walks close beside him, and America tries his best to ignore the warmth in his cheeks.

'Oh my god, you are so close to me.'

'He smells nice.'

'WHAT THE F*** BRAIN?!'

America scowls and feels even his ears start to turn red.

America puts Alaska down and takes her hand, and she stays close to his side, almost trying to hide behind his leg from the surrounding air.

America continues to look around and spots several guards eyeing them from around the building. Russia steps a little in front of him and glares at the guards, who turn away at seeing him. America's cheeks grow pink.

'Him defending me????'

Giddy feelings fill his stomach.

'No, I can't think about that now! I'll get all distracted.'

They walk into the meeting room and America takes a stack of paperwork to help sort it out. He moves and sits beside Russia. Russia gives him a curious look, and America stares down at the papers, pretending not to see Russia at all.

Russia takes a seat beside him, and America relaxes a little, happy Russia isn't going to fight him on the seating arrangement. Alaska sits on America's other side, swinging her feet under the table. America smiles.

"Hey, is this important?" America asks, handing a lone, almost blank sheet of paper to Russia to glance over.

"No," Russia answers, handing it back and turning his attention back to his own stack of papers to read and sign.

America nods and hands the sheet to Alaska, who folds it into an airplane. Alaska begins drawing people in windows and America smiles. Russia stands up.

"I'll be right back," Russia says, gathering a folder with several packets of paper, " I need to go give these to the building supervisor."

America nods and continues sorting papers into different stacks and Alaska starts throwing around her paper airplane.

Suddenly, America feels his hair stand on end. He looks up and a flash of red catches his eye outside one of the windows. He focuses on the spot, only to see nothing. Alaska retreats back to his side.

"Daddy? What's wrong?" Alaska asks, her voice nervous.

"It's okay, pumpkin. I'm just a little high strung is all."

Alaska hums, sounding unsure.

"It's okay kiddo," America says reassuringly.

"I'm seeing stuff too," Alaska mutters, "like people looking through the windows. Their flags are weird."

America tenses.

'S***.'

"Uhhh," America stammers, looking around and scanning the windows, "let's go find Russia, okay?"

America stands, abandoning the papers on the table and taking Alaska's hand, eyeing the door that Russia had left through.

"Okay Daddy," Alaska says, and her grip tightens.

~

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[ghost-ghost-baby]

Like or like like // yan!Izuku x reader //

patreon // masterlist

warnings: uhhh yandere themes,,, stalking,,, izuku is a disaster,,,, swearing.

request;  Hi!!! This is my first request ever so sorry if I don't explain the request well, Would you be able to write a Yan! Izuku and his darling themed after 'Like or like like' by Miniature tigers? Where the darling is his friend and he stalks them all the time, The darling being oblivious to all the little ways he tries to make his feelings known.

Izuku was waiting for you after class, hands in his pockets and nervously looking around for you. A blush crept onto your face when you saw he was still wearing the sweatshirt you’d given him when he’d come over to study last night. It was green, maybe you’d gotten it because it reminded you of him, but you’d never admit that, with little four leaf clovers around the edges of the sleeves.

“Sorry I took so long, Shinso wanted to borrow my notes.” You linked your arm through his when you were close enough, and the contact was all that stopped Izuku storming off to find a certain general studies student. He could only nod as the two of you started walking, you were touching him! How could he speak when you were so close? It was already taking everything he had not to pull you into his room and never let you go.

“How was class?” Izuku finally got the words out, he didn’t want you to think he was weird, he still couldn’t believe someone as perfect as you talked to him.

“Eh, pretty standard, we have a test coming up and I’ll probably flunk it.” You shrugged, peeking up slightly as you continued, “Although Shinso said he could help me study-“

“No!” The words tore out of Izuku before he could stop himself, whole face going red when you looked at him with your eyebrows raised.

“I mean uh, I-I could help you instead?” He hoped that was enough to cover his slip, the thought of you and anyone else huddled over notes late at night had his blood boiling.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t wanna be a bother.” Your heart was pounding against your ribs, and you could feel the blush on your face.

“You wouldn’t be a bother at all, i-it’s my pleasure.”

What was he doing? He’s dropped you off at your dorm, he should have gone right back to his. Yet here he was, lurking under a tree with the perfect view into your room. Izuku knew this was wrong, it was all wrong, but you always kept your window open, he needed to make sure nobody else saw what was his! You were completely oblivious to Izuku, yawning as you started stripping. You needed to study, as much as you wanted to just sleep, but you couldn’t do that until you were changed. Izuku got a darker shade of red with each button that came undone, and he couldn’t stop his quirk activating in his hands when your shirt fell to the ground and you were just in your skirt and a bra. Green eyes were fixed to your chest, even as you shimmied off your skirt, he just couldn’t look away! And then you were just in your underwear! Oh god, this was so wrong, If anyone found out what he was doing he’d be dead. Still, red faced and sweaty, he didn’t look away, eyes drinking in your entire form. There was so much skin! You looked so soft, he just wanted to run his hands over every inch of you. Another yawn left you as your stretched, arms above your head and back arched. Oh god Izuku was going to die, right here, looking like a freckled tomato. You grabbed a shirt off of the back of your desk chair, slipping it over your form without a second thought. Disappointment ran through Izuku, but only for a second because that was his shirt you were wearing. He’d do anything to be with you, be able to touch you and hold you and kiss you and fuck you, but you weren’t getting any hints he was dropping.

“Uraraka! Iida! Wait up!” You had to run to catch the hero students, luckily they stopped and waited for you, Uraraka offering you a friendly wave once you got to them.

“Have you seen Izuku, he was meant to help me study but I’ve been waiting thirty minutes and it’s not like him.”

Iida and Uraraka exchanged a look before the brunette spoke, her tone light.

“Oh yeah, sorry! His phone died and him and Bakugo had to stay back, Aizawa wanted to speak to them.”

“Oh, that makes sense!” You had to push down the hurt, you knew he liked Bakugo, who were you kidding? “I’ll just text Shinso and tell him we’re back on!” You were turning away and grabbing your phone before you’d finished your sentence, texting your friend and trying to distract yourself from the awful pit in your stomach.

“Well what did you expect, Deku? They need to study and for some reason- I don’t even want to know- you saw them, went bright red, started blubbering nonsense and then ran off?” Uraraka popped a strawberry into her mouth, completely ignoring the green haired boy in front of her, despite his quirk crackling around him.

“I-I can’t face Y/n! But they need me… what if Shinso tries something? He’s just the type to try and steal them away… maybe I should text them? Ask if I can come over… that should work.” Izuku was already grabbing his phone, sending a text quicker than his heart was beating in his chest. Oh god, how was he going to face you? Just seeing you earlier had him thinking about how you’d looked the other night, and that alone had his quirk acting up and his blood running south. How was he meant to talk to you? Or be close to you without going crazy? You were just so perfect. He’d just have to deal with it, or Shinso would steal you away, surely it couldn’t be that hard?

The wind was cold as you waited outside your dorm, chewing on your bottom lip as you looked for Izuku. He’d said he was coming over ten minutes ago, and he was normally early. You were worried, had you done something wrong? Izuku was hiding behind a tree, of all things, muttering to himself and trying to get the courage to go out and face you. Every time he’d see you there he’d just remember how beautiful you were and he couldn’t even think. You already thought he was weird, he couldn’t see you and start bumbling around like an idiot.

“Hey, you still waiting?” A new voice made the blood drain from his face, and tears built in Izuku's eyes as he peeked out from behind the tree.

“Yeah, it’s getting cold, Huh?” You turned to Shinso with a smile, although it didn’t do anything to mask the hurt in your eyes. Your friend sighed, draping his own jacket over you before he spoke again, scratching the back of his neck.

“Take that if you insist on waiting, at least.” Was all he said before he turned to go back inside. Doubts had been trying to wiggle into your brain since you’d gotten here and Izuku wasn’t, and as the seconds ticked by, they found cracks in your resolve, wiggling into your brain like worms to fester and rot and make you doubt. He was probably busy… something, probably Bakugo, must’ve come up and- and Izuku wasn’t coming, was he? Your shoulders sunk at the realisation, all the hope and life you’ clutched onto disappearing in an instant. It wasn’t lost on Izuku, of course, he knew every one of your moods, he had notebooks open notebooks about you, of course he did!! And he always, always knew when you were upset. Right, he turned around, taking a deep breath and trying to give himself a pep talk, he needed to comfort you. Anxiety would be his downfall, however, he’d taken too long, you’d finally given up. Turning back to the dorms, you shoved your hands into the pocket of Shinso’s jacket, glancing back one last time, the tears blurring your vision hiding a flash of green.

Where were you? Izuku had gone to your room as soon as you’d vanished inside, but you weren’t here yet. It had been three minutes! Where on earth were you? Reality hit him like a truck, Shinso was probably comforting you now, that thought alone had Izuku fuming. What lies was Shinso telling you? Filling your head with nonsense when you should be here in your room with him. He was walking to your door when it swung open, your tear stained eyes meeting his furious ones, although Izuku's anger left him the second you were there. It was okay, Shinso hadn’t stolen you away!

“What’s wrong?” He reached out, tears pooling in his own eyes when you flinched away from his touch.

“It’s nothing, what are you doing here? I thought something came up.” You wanted to sound angry, but the hurt somehow made it’s way into your tone despite your best efforts.

“I-I just couldn't-couldn't face you.”

“Why? Because you’re in love with Bakugo, and I’ll always be second to him? It’s fine. I get it.” You all but spat the words out like they burned your tongue, you just wanted to get this over with. Izuku was speechless, how on earth did you come to that conclusion? You were the only thing that mattered to him! He reached out again, grabbing hold of your wrist and pulling you towards him despite your struggles. Having you so close like this was driving him crazy, he had to do something, now! Before he lost you for good! It was your turn to be confused now, Izuku spun you to face him, with a look you’d never seen before. Just as you opened your mouth to ask what was happening, Izuku was grabbing your face and kissing you. The fight went out of you faster than you’d like to admit, your eyes closing as you wrapped your arms around Izukus neck. It just felt so right. You had to come up for air, eventually, much to Izuku's dismay. The pair of you were a mess, all flushed skin and messy hair and swollen lips, Izuku was so flustered and overwhelmed he had tears pooling in his eyes.

“Bakugo means nothing in comparison to you. I love you, Y/n.”

[miracle-sham]

Instead of Dead, Become Two Dragons in Red.

| {MaribatMarch2020 — Week 1, Day 5: Transformation} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |

| {Repost due to original post disappearing from the tags.} |

| Triggers/Warnings: Violence/Implied Violence, Animal Transformation, Explicit Language/Some Swearing, Implied/Referenced Character Death (but not really), Polyamory (not really a trigger/warning but if you don't like Polyamory then this isn't for you). |

| For Gotham vigilantes, rampaging magic-users always make for an interesting fight, that is of course, provided one doesn't get hit by any stray bolts of magic. However for Parisian heroes, it's just your typical Tuesday Akuma situation. |

| Word Count: 3232 |

==‹›==

| A/N: Hi! I'm not dead, sorry for how long I took to respond to comments, I got hit by a nasty cold then sinusitis so I lost basically all my Maribat March prep time thanks to that, so I just barely managed to finish this ficlet/oneshot for today, anyway I hope you guys enjoy, and if enough people enjoy it, I'll make a second part to this oneshot because I had to cut so much material and it'd be nice to be able to use it still. |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then comment or send me a DM/ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

==‹›==

Zzzzt-crackle-woosh, a purplish-black bolt of unstable magic flies through the air, just barely grazing passed Dragonbug's side as she flips across the gap between two buildings. Cheerfully, she calls out “Missed again!”

The villain, an amorphous black shadow with dripping molten gold eyes and donning a ruddy patchwork hooded robe (which suffice to say, looks suspiciously like a rip-off wizzrobe from the Legend of Zelda, that or a faceless Gregorian based cultist extra from a film or TV show), scowls furiously, “Oh fuck you! I'm trying my best here!” and blasts another bolt of purplish-black magic towards her.

Conveniently located on the roof she just landed on, is an air vent. She cartwheels behind it and manages to dodge the bolt by a good metre or so. “Well, your best sucks and so does your aim!”

The wizard-villain screeches in fury, “Well my aim wouldn't suck if you didn't keep moving like a goddamn Duracell bunny!”

Dragonbug snorts. “Yeah but firstly, I'm dragon and ladybird themed, not bunny-themed; the bunny theme's already taken anyway. And secondly, where's the fun in that?”

As soon as she says that, her earpiece crackles as Red Robin pipes up on the comms channel. “Ready to see some fireworks?”

“Oh, you bet!” She responds, all too gleefully.

There's a faint clink-woosh-woosh-woosh and out of the corner of her eye, Dragonbug sees a blur of a small round silver ball arcing through the air towards the wizard-villain who's quite stupidly standing in the same place. As the silver ball disappears from her view, she hears a clatter of clink-clink-clink followed by a bwoosh and a bright flash of white light. At this moment, Dragonbug is so glad the Miraculous suits protect against flashbangs of all things.

The wizard-villain screams and once the flash of light fades, Dragonbug can see that they've fallen to their knees, in the middle of the street.

Dragonbug frowns and eyes their form, then double-taps her comms. “Hey, is it me or does our rip-off wizzrobe-magic-cultist look somewhat unresponsive?”

Her earpiece crackles again as Red Robin answers, and really someone should give these things a maintenance check, the crackling can be so distracting. “Our wizzrobe-magic-cultist is looking pretty unresponsive to me too. It could be a trap though because I swear I didn't use one of my knockout flashbangs.”

She nods, despite the fact he can't see her; which upon realising this, she flushes red in embarrassment. After clearing her throat to compose herself, she tilts her head to the side. “That's concerning, unless our rip-off wizzrobe-magic-cultist is susceptible to flashes of light.” She pauses, frown deepening, “You don't think they've got epilepsy do you?”

There's a slight rustle before Red Robin responds, “No, that's not what an epileptic seizure looks like. Again this could be a trap, or they could just be stunned. Either way, we should hurry but be careful.”

“Right.” Dragonbug scurries over to the edge of the roof then flips her way down to the ground. As she lands, she just spots Red Robin vaulting across an overturned car. As he catches sight of her, she gives him a thumbs up, which he returns.

Dragonbug then nods to him and he nods back, silently communicating their plan. They both start to slowly approach the wizard-villain in a pincer movement, her to the left and him to the right.

Red Robin reaches to his bandoliers and whips out a pair of manacles. He skulks behind the wizard-villain and goes to handcuff when the wizard-villain starts cackling maniacally. The laughter is quickly followed by a forming orb of purplish-black light—the same light as the magic bolts.

Oh, fuck! Is Dragonbug's only thought as she immediately dives at Red Robin, who's started backing away; she uses herself to try and block him from the still-forming orb. Please let the Miraculous magic protect us both! She silently begs as the orb expands exponentially, unfortunately enveloping them both completely in a fraction of a second

The maniacal laughter is the last thing they both hear as they're violently launched backwards into an alleyway, and everything fades to black.

==‹›==

Kagami's lounging on the sofa at Tim's Nest and binging Netflix, when the red alert rings across all the comms units.

“Shit,” Oracle falters, “Red Robin and Dragonbug are down. Dragonbug's signature has disappeared from our systems and her comms aren't responding. All Red Robin's vitals are down, his suit isn't registering any more signs of life. But I'm still getting warnings that the villain they were fighting is still active, so everyone available needs to converge on Red Robin and Dragonbug's last known location.”

Fear immediately seizes Kagami's heart, no please, please don't be dead my loves. She double-taps her comms. “I'm suiting up as Kuro Neko, I'll be at the location in three.”

With that said, Kagami flings herself off the sofa. She glances around the room for Plagg who's halted in his eating of cheese and giving her a sad but cryptic look. Her eyes flicker to the window and he nods almost imperceptibly.

“Plagg, claws on.” There's a woosh as the poisonous green light washes over her, donning her in the Kuro Neko suit. She flexes her claws for a split second, tail whipping back and forth furiously, before darting over to the window and vaulting out of it.

As soon as she's out the window, Kuro Neko extends her baton down and begins pole-vaulting her way across the rooftops and over towards where her significant others were last.

==‹›==

When Dragonbug returns to consciousness, the first thing she notices is that she can't move, nor see, nor hear. But she can feel, and unfortunately that means she feels a strange painful pulsing throughout her entire body, as well as an excruciating aching sensation. The second thing she notices is that she's curled up on the ground and her head, or the world, is spinning somewhat. Anyway, I can safely say I'm not doing so good right about now, big ouch.

The first of her other senses to return is her hearing. Which immediately makes her hiss in pain from the sudden cacophony seemingly coming from somewhere above her? She pauses, then realises that something's not quite right, hey wait a minute, why'd my hiss sound so weird? Something's not right, although I suppose that's kinda obvious now, but still! Oh god, what if I'm dying, or I've been body switched, or—or—or—

Her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden scream of fury, ringing out from above. Which is good because it means Dragonbug doesn't get time to dwell on that particular string of anxious thoughts, but it's also bad because it's loud and causes her to whimper in pain from how loud it is.

“Where the fuck are they? What the fuck did you do to them?” A voice sounding very similar to Kagami yells out.

Wait a second, that doesn't make sense, Red Robin and I didn't call for backup, so why would Kagami suit up on her night off? Dragonbug muses to herself, brain immediately latching onto the next train of thoughts. As she muses, she slowly realises that she's starting to regain the feeling in her limbs. Which is another positive? However, the feel of said limbs, causes her mind to immediately blank and lose the train of thought. While her brain tries to figuratively perform an error message, she does finally manage to crack open her eyes, yay sight.

It's at that moment, Dragonbug's superhero experience/training kicks in. She quickly takes stock of her surroundings and quietly thinks to herself, oh fuck.

It looks like she's in a giant—no massive—version of Red Robin's suit. Have I been shrunk? She wonders for only a brief second as something moves, just out of the area of her view. She turns and squints at the movement. Not a second later, a roughly cat-sized red lizard shuffled into sight.

She squeaks in surprise, then has a minute of wait what because her squeak sounded weird and very concerningly not-human-like.

The red lizard tilts its head to the side and coos at her.

Dragonbug glares at the lizard and tries to back away. Emphasis on tries, because as she does so, she ends up tripping over herself? Confused and extremely concerned now, she glances down and oh.

What. The. Heckles. She slowly spins around, checking out her new form, because she's clearly no longer human. No, she's got a snout, scales, fur—well mane—, claws, a long snakelike body, and a tail. Spinning around, she catches sight of a gleaming piece of shiny silver metal. So does what anyone would in the same situation as her, and scuttles over to it to use it as a makeshift mirror.

The reflection that greets her is… frankly quite adorable but also she's now a tiny little lung/long dragon. Which to be fair, makes quite a bit of sense as she was using the dragon Miraculous and Longg is a lung dragon. Her scales are a pretty red with shimmery golden accents and her mane is a dark red-almost-black colour. Her eyes still have the golden yellow iris and sclera that the dragon Miraculous gives. And the rest of her is all done variation of the gold, brighter red, and darker red. So at least her colour palette doesn't clash. Okay, so the colour palette isn't the most pressing issue here, but also I don't know how to fix this or change back so y'know, I'd rather potentially be stuck like this permanently with a nice colour palette, than one that clashes. But also oh god please don't let this be permanent, there has to be a way to undo this!

In her panic, Marinette doesn't notice the red lizard slinking closer to her. As it reaches her, it gently prods her with one claw; startling her badly and causing her to squeak again, loudly.

The red lizard flinches back and Marinette realises that maybe, just maybe, that's not a random lizard. And that maybe the not-a-random-lizard is actually a drake. A European dragon that hasn't got wings. And Tim. Tim's surname is Drake. A coincidence? I think not! It's got to be Tim!

She stares at the probably-Tim dragon and makes a chirping noise because dragons don't have the same vocal cords as humans, so she can't exactly ask him if that's him or not. A minor nuisance, to say the least.

The red drake mimics her chirp. Then cautiously slinks up to her again.

This close, Marinette can see that she's probably around the size of a ferret, in comparison to him being roughly the same size as a cat.

He flops down half beside, half against her and makes a series of clicks and chirps. She can't help but to tense as he flops but as the seconds pass, she finds herself relaxing bit by bit until she's also flopped over.

Enjoying the peaceful impromptu not-quite-a-cuddle cuddle session with one of her significant others, Marinette does try to keep an ear out for any goings-on above, just in case. But all seems well.

That is until, not even three seconds later, the peacefulness is abruptly shattered by a cacophony of screams, yells, zaps, and loud bangs echoing shrilly from above, before ceasing just as abruptly as it started.

However, the unexpected cacophony still manages to cause Marinette to panic. She tenses with a low whine, hunching slightly, and holds her breath. Alert and anxiously vigilant, she can't help but survey the immediate vicinity again and again and again—looking for anything she missed initially or if anything's changed.

Tim shuffles and stumbles into a sitting position. He nudges her gently in the side of the neck with his snout. He makes a cooing noise, followed by a soft rumble—as if he were trying to imitate a cat's purr.

It takes a few seconds, but his actions start to help calm her down. She takes in a deep breath and mentally reassesses the situation. We've been turned into tiny dragons. We're inside-slash-underneath the Red Robin suit which is on the ground. Before we woke up like this, we were battling a magic-user villain who tricked us. We didn't get time to call in backup before we got hit but it sounds like backup arrived anyway. As far as we know, no one is aware of what happened to us or that we're in-slash-under the suit. We are currently safe for now.

As Marinette reaches the end of the reassessment, she feels much calmer. She makes a low trill-like-purr noise to signal to Tim that she's calmed down.

He sticks his tongue out in a blep and mimics the low trill.

Their second moment of calm is then also interrupted because apparently fate hates peace and calmness or something like that.

“I will ask you once more, Where. Are. They?” Kuro Neko questions.

There's a loud thump-snap, followed by the wheezing cackle of the Wizard-villain. “They're gone! Dead! Erased! Exterminated!” With its piece said, the wizard-villain continues to wheeze and cackle maniacally.

Marinette can't help but shiver in fear at the sound, barely able to squash the rising nausea.

A harsh snap sound echoes loudly in the street and the wizard-villain starts choking wetly.

Kuro Neko hisses something but the red robin suit muffles the words to the point of being indistinguishable.

The minutes drag by and the only sounds of note from above, are inaudible mutterings and the clattering of handcuffs and car doors. They must've handed the wizard-villain over to the police, Marinette thinks.

She's about to go nudge Tim to try and communicate that they probably need to go find somewhere to stash his suit and a place for them to hide until they can figure out how to turn back when a conversation between the vigilantes who arrived for backup catches her attention. Partly because of the topic, and partly because of how close the voices suddenly sound.

“They can't be dead, Red Robin's suit is still there.” Dick—or well more like Nightwing, since he probably arrived as backup as well—stresses.

“But Dragonbug an' her suit's gone. You'd think maybe that there'd be a little more left if just organic matter was destroyed.” Jas—Red Hood mutters, the vocal distorter in his helmet making his tone of voice sound strange.

Or maybe that's just a side effect of getting tiny-dragon-ified, thinks Marinette, things sounding stranger. Although I've not really noticed anything bar the distorted voice sounding weird.

“The Miraculous suits are made of magic, and anyway, Plagg says he can't feel Tikki or Longg's presence anywhere,” Kuro Neko admits, reluctantly. “If all living things in the vicinity of the orb were destroyed, then the Miraculous would have still been left behind.”

“And how d'you know that?” Red Hood asks, sounding both genuinely curious and mildly concerned.

There's a split second of almost icy silence before Kuro Neko responds with a clipped tone. “Akuma.”

“Ah, o'course.” Red Hood comments, voice getting closer again. “Hey, d'you think B will want to stick the Red Robin suit in a memorial case like what he did with my Robin suit?”

“Hood!” Nightwing exclaims in a horrified and almost scandalised tone of voice.

Red Hood snorts.

Marinette flinches, and so does Tim beside her, although probably not for the same reasons as her. I don't think I'll ever get used to how flippantly Red Hood jokes about his death. Even if most Parisians who've died in Akuma attacks use the same sort of gallows humour.

There's a few seconds of silence before someone grabs the Red Robin suit and yanks it upwards, causing Tim and Marinette to tumble out of it with a series of startled squeaks and clicks.

Red Hood is the first to respond to the situation, with an eloquent, “what the fuck.”

Marinette glances up and sees Kuro Neko holding the Red Robin suit and looking rather shell shocked, with Red Hood and Nightwing a few steps away.

“Oh, thank fuck they're alive.” Nightwing half mumbles, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation.

“My loves,” Kuro Neko murmurs leaning down and scooping up Marinette and Tim, “I'm so glad you're okay.”

They both squirm for a minute before relaxing into her arms.

Nightwing frowns. “We should bring them back to the cave, maybe call Zatanna and Wonder Woman.”

“To the cave then.” Kuro Neko nods, hugging Marinette and Tim carefully, making sure not to accidentally hurt or squish them.

Marinette looks up at her significant other and bleps. She then trills, content to be held for the journey back to the Batcave.

Tim however, wrinkles his nose and chirrups in protest, he squirms and tries to escape Kuro Neko's hold—probably wanting to return to the Nest and deal with this on his own instead.

Kuro Neko gives Tim a deadpan stare before expertly pinching the correct pressure point to temporarily paralyse him.

Red Hood gives her a quizzical stare.

“Akuma, as well as kwami.” She responds, sagely.

“Right…” He slowly mutters, shaking his head.

Marinette can't help but burst into laughter at that, only because she's currently a ferret-sized lung dragon, the laughter comes out as a stream of trills and chirps.

Red Hood narrows his eyes at Marinette. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, danger noodle.”

Marinette pouts, whilst internally promising herself that revenge will be swift and pasta themed.

==‹›==

When they finally arrive back at the Batcave. They're greeted by the sight of Batman and Robin at the Batcomputer.

Robin turns and sneers at them. “Of course, trust Drake to pull such an attention-grabbing stunt as this.”

Marinette immediately looks up from her snuggled up position in Kuro Nell's arms and hisses at Robin; Tim however, lets out a world-weary sigh.

“Robin.” Barks Batman, but the reprimand does nothing to quell Robin's hostility.

Fixing a glare at Robin, Kuro Neko starts to stroke Marinette's scales like an evil villain would stroke a cat (much to Marinette's delight). “Need I remind you, how you hesitated upon hearing Oracle inform us that Red Robin's suit ceased reading any signs of life.”

“That was not hesitation! I was merely preparing for Grayson or Fatgirl to become hysterical in their distress.” Retorts Robin, who then stalks away, scowling and red-faced.

Nightwing dithers between going after him or staying to check on Tim and Marinette.

Kuro Neko shakes her head. “Go after him, Marinette and Tim will be fine without you hovering like a mother hen.”

Nightwing flashes her a grateful smile and scampers after Robin.

Kuro Neko then heads over to the medical bay and gently plonks the two dragons onto a cot. “Batman, I believe we will need to do as Nightwing suggested earlier, and call Zatanna and Wonder Woman. As this is a magic situation and I am not as skilled or knowledgeable in regards to magic as my love is.”

“Hhrrm,” Batman growls, already calling up the Watchtower.

Kuro Neko smiles softly as she glances down at her significant others, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Let's hope they arrive soon, otherwise who knows what sort of trouble you two could get into.” She winks.

Marinette chirps, tail flicking side to side eagerly. Whilst Tim perks up slightly and tilts his head to the side, mind probably racing with hundreds of pranks and shenanigans they could pull off whilst in dragon form.

==‹›==

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| @maribat-march2020 | | @vixen-uchiha |

[melon-kiss]

Screaming, Pt 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Link to the part on AO3

____________________________

I hear voices over the black fog of my unconsciousness but I can’t be sure they’re real. I think it’s the doctors. They try to revive me. I hear that I have a stable pulse and I breathe. Good. Or whatever.

When I open my eyes, I’m sweaty and frightened. My T-shirt is so wet it changed its colour to dark grey. My hair is sticking to my face. My eyeballs go from one side to another in an utter madness. I notice it’s already dark outside. Doctor Mike lights up a small lamp on my nightstand. I think he suspects me of being scared of darkness. I’ve never been. Now he’s right. He says comforting things, like: “You’re safe now” or “I can see you’ve been tortured”. But “torture” doesn’t even cover it. I’ve been through a vivisection. Sherlock gutted me out and now I  know for sure he did it on purpose.

I fight insomnia for very long hours. When I manage to fall asleep, I hardly find any rest in it.

I toss and turn endlessly. It never gets better. The bed sheet is too hot or too cold. The dreams I have are horrifying. All the memories I’ve kept safely tamed resurface and haunt me. Suffocate me with their weight. They’re my burden now.

They burn me out. They wreak havoc. I feel every cell in my body ache as I remember the pain of all the words unsaid, all the moments not lived. I see the bright blue eyes, always looking through. I hear the voice. It lies to me. Does it, though? It says: I... I love you. And again, quieter: I love you. It hurts because I’m sure it’s insincere. It couldn’t be any other way. He’ll never love me like I want to be loved. He can’t give me safety and protection. He can’t support me. He can’t be with me. He can’t be with me. He can’t be with me.

I scream. The hot air rips my lungs into shreds. My voice is hoarse and piercing at the same time, it echoes in the entire building. I scream as though being cut in two; a primal shriek finds its way out of me. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane - otherwise the pain would be unbearable. I want to be dead. I scream so loud the night staff comes to my room every fifteen minutes to wake me and assure me I’m safe but it doesn’t take long for the circle to go around again. They finally give up and inject something into my arm. The dangerous mix of fear and pain is numb now. It doesn’t vanish; it’s covered with a warm fluff of the meds. It’s there. He’ll never love me the way I want to be loved.

My eyes are stuck on one point on the ceiling. I want to scream but I can’t.

 * * *

 The cold late-autumn air lashes my face when I place my foot outside the door. I wrap the scarf tighter around my neck. It’s difficult to keep yourself warm when there’s not much of the fat tissue in your body.

My therapist says it’ll get better. I don’t know. I don’t think he tries to lie to me. I choose to believe him. He also says that I’ll never fully recover. My psyche is broken beyond repair. LSD killed me and didn’t do it at all. All I can do is to try to make the best of it. “Regaining your memory was the most important part,” he said once. “And you’ve succeeded in it.” I think he hopes that there’s a chance for me to get back to my old self in that. I’ve lived with my missing memories for over six months and today is the first day I feel good enough to leave the house. I’m going to face death. Many deaths.

I walk down the London streets and the air soaks up in my lungs. It’s cold but in a pleasant way. The hot air gets out of me with carbon dioxide. I breathe in the chill oxygenium with my eyes closed. I relish the moment. I never know when my brain will snap and turn everything into endless sadness. I don’t have fury attacks anymore but instead, I wake up in the middle of every night, screaming. The scream eventually turns into cry. I curl up in my bed and wait for the pain to let go. It never really does but its level decreases to the point I’m able to live with.

Being yourself. What does it even mean? Whatever I do, I’m me. I’m me when I walk down the London streets, heading to work. I’m me when I jump out of my bed and choke someone. I’m me when I throw up because my body cannot contain the anxiety caused by my fugue. I’m me when I scream my head off in the middle of a night. I’m me when I kiss someone I love. I’m me when I cry because I couldn’t be more broken. I’ve learned to simply accept whatever comes to me. This is who I am. A mess. Fixing me is a job for a lifetime.

I’ve been missing the lab. I throw myself into work because it helps me soothe the suffering. The relief is temporary but whatever works, right? I love the sound of the glasses clinking against each other. I love how my brain focuses entirely on bringing out my scientific knowledge and it almost resembles the mind I used to have. These are the moments when I know the old Molly Hooper is still there. She didn’t die because she always wins.

 It’s almost dark outside when I turn off the lights. I take a short look around to make sure I’ve cleaned everything up. I push the door open and fix the handbag on my shoulder. I walk out into the corridor, pale-y lightened with the cold hospital lamps. I raise my head up and freeze.

He freezes as well. He’s changed; weaker, sadder. His blue eyes widen and I can see his breathing stops. His mouth are open in an utter shock. He’s speechless but doesn’t look away. He swallows with difficulty.

“Molly.”

The soft whisper fills out the space of the corridor. I begin to get dizzy and my heart rate quickens rapidly. I take a small step back and cling to the door behind me. I’m close to hyperventilate. He makes a move towards me but I start visibly shivering in response.

“Molly...”

He’s filled with guilt which adds a fair weight to his movements. His eyes, usually cold and focused on looking through his mind palace, are mild, even glossy. His eyebrows frown in worry. I’m sure he pities me. I don’t need his pity. I slide down the door and sit on the floor with my legs pulled to my chest. I see his coat getting closer with a corner of my eye. My body trembles strongly. I let out the tears.

“Leave me alone,” I whisper.

He stands in place for a while and walks off eventually. When he’s no longer in the range of my eyesight, I curl up on the floor and cry. He can’t be with me.

 * * *

 I’m slightly cheerful on my days off. The winter is pretty ugly this year; it doesn’t look like the ones I remember. No fluffy snow and colourful lights. But maybe I’ve just gotten too old to see them? I think it’s sad. We become adults and forget all the beauty we’ve had as children. We forget that the key to happiness is not only in winning the jackpot but also in seeing the little things and enjoying them. In finding a four-leaf clover and thinking: “Today I’m going to be lucky”. In hearing your mum is going to make your favourite biscuits because she loves you so much she could do anything to see a smile on your face. I sound like The Little Prince, don’t I? When your brain tries to find its way back to sanity, you happen to have a lot thoughts. Trust me.

I deliberately step into every grey, muddy-snowy-watery puddle and smile. My shoes will get soaked up for a while but I enjoy this childish activity until I can. I just hope my groceries won’t slip out of my shopping bag to fall into one of these snowy monsters. I think about the small but pleasant stuff: like ordering a pizza and watching a film. My brain loves turning into tapioca. Well, it doesn’t, I do. I also bought brownies and can’t wait to stuff my stomach with them after the pizza box is empty. For a moment I think of the poor person who would have to go through my stomach content if I killed myself tonight, and then shake it off. I don’t want to die but I don’t have much of a will to live as well. I’ve learned not to joke about suicide around other people, though. It turns out death is a difficult matter for normal human beings. I wouldn’t know, I’ve always been very practical about it. It doesn’t scare me that much. Well, maybe a little because I’ve never been through this. They say I have but I don’t remember a shred from this moment. I’ve regained a memory of being strongly hit in a head in my house but then... it’s all darkness. The next thing was the hospital ceiling and the conversation The Three Horsemen of Madness had in my room.

I’ve loved watching trash telly (and not only this) because it keeps my sadness and insanity at bay. I’m well aware of that. My therapist didn’t have to tell me this but he did it anyway. He even asked if I wanted to do anything about it. I didn’t but he says (because the matter obviously wasn’t dropped) it would work out for the best because a broken heart cannot be mended by watching stories about other hearts being healed. I thought he was supposed to help me keep my post-LSD psyche under control but it seems I couldn’t have been more wrong. When I look back at the memories I’ve retrieved, I can’t help but think... maybe this craziness has always been with me? The way I sewed my happiness with his skin, desperately, utterly, unconditionally, obsessively... Omnipresent but invisible. Courageous - with a rabbit heart. The smallest spark of hope I’ve ever seen kept me by his side. Maybe LSD only sped up what was inevitable: a nervous breakdown. Although I wasn’t really weak. My heart just popped, heavy from all the sorrow it has carried for five years.

Now, after being completely broken, I’m learning to live in a world without him. I don’t blame him - after all, it was me who asked him to leave me alone. I thought he would fight for me but I’m glad he didn’t. My insanity would feed on the scraps he would throw me, reliving the annealed wounds with a red-hot steel. He doesn’t come to Bart’s or maybe he does but he’s good at avoiding people. And sometimes, when everything seems fine and I’m home alone (which is always), I fill out the silence with singing. I choose the saddest songs I know and sing. I bet my neighbours have had to call an ambulance to save their bleeding ears at least once but I’m a psycho. I can do whatever I want because I don’t care.

I’ve recently watched Eclipse and I sing a song from its soundtrack under my nose when I unlock the door. The door clicks and I enter my completely dark house. I don’t turn on the lights and enjoy the fact that it’s already dim outside but it’s too early for the street lights to turn on and shine into my kitchen. I stand in the entrance room and soak in the emptiness. It fills me out and seeps into my bones. This is where my body find its way to the state of default. I put my shopping bag away on the floor and untangle my winter shoes. After that I move the groceries into the kitchen, almost tiptoeing, as though afraid of waking someone up.

I take off my coat and scarf, putting them down on the kitchen counter. I start unloading my shopping bag, thinking about the pizza I’m going to order. I’ve gained some weight, maybe a little too much but that’s all right. I couldn’t care less about my body. If I had to worry about my appearance as well, I would definitely kill myself.

“My love has concrete feet, my love’s an iron ball, wrapped around your ankles, over the waterfall...”

“If I didn’t know better, I would think it was on purpose.”

A glass bottle of a carrot juice slips out of my palm as I jump in a complete horror. My socks soak in the sticky liquid but I can barely seem bothered by this. I turn on the heel and look at the utter darkness in my living room. The same moment the street lights turn on and a beam of weak light falls on his face as well. I feel my body trembling. I want to back out but there is no escape - he could catch me any time. Not that he would but the fear takes over my mind.

“You... you broke into my house?” I ask, panting. A panic attack is around the corner.

“I entered your house without your knowledge,” he replies, utterly steady. “There’s a difference-“

“What are you doing here?” I put on a tough act but we both know it’s a ruse. I don’t care. I don’t want him to break me again. I might never recover.

“I came to see you.”

I scoff.

“You could do it the normal way.”

“Would you meet me, then?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

I’m pressed against the refrigerator and I feel a pain in my back as the metallic door resists to my spinal bones. He makes three steps forward. He takes off his gloves and shoves them into his coat pockets. He takes if off as well, with no rush, and throws it away on my couch. Without unlocking our eyes, he approaches me. I’m sure I’ll tip over the refrigerator in a second because he’s so close there can’t be more than a foot between us. He stops. My head is dizzy and I feel like throwing up but then he squats and begins to collect the shreds of glass bottle from the floor. I’m sweaty but relieved. The tension leaves my body and I exhale loudly.

It catches his attention. He looks up at me.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

I scoff again.

“It doesn’t matter.”

I turn around to face the kitchen counter and find paper towels but they’re on the opposite side. I glare down and see that the juice is everywhere but my socks are completely soaked up, so it wouldn’t be smart of me to walk off to the bathroom for a mop. Besides, I could step into the cracks and that was not the point of his help.

He finishes and throws the glass away. He remembers very well where my bin is. After that, he wordlessly goes to my bedroom and comes back with a pair of dry socks. I can see that he spread a bit of the juice on the floor but his gesture successfully disables my frustration. He sticks out his arms towards me. I hesitate. What is he planning to do? I slowly reach out to his arms but he slides them under my armpits and lifts me up over the juice, placing me on my small kitchen island. Then he disappears in the bathroom and comes back with the mop. He wipes out the floor. Not a word slips out of his lips.

I slowly take off my wet socks, watching his every move. I put the dirty socks away next to me and reach out for the paper towel. I dry my feet out while Sherlock cleans up my kitchen floor. Even my old self would say that only a lunatic would find it possible. Cheers to all of us, crazies. I put away the used paper towel as well and put on my new socks. I start to swing my legs a little bit as Sherlock finishes the cleanup. He walks off to the bathroom to rinse off the mop for the last time and comes back to me. I can’t look away somehow.

“Thank you,” I say in a hoarse voice. I clear my throat.

“I’m sorry,” he replies. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, nor be an intruder.”

I shrug.

“It was just a carrot juice. I’ll drink more water, then.”

My legs swing more and more intensively. I know what it means and so does he, so I force myself to stop because a smirk crawls up on his face. I feel my cheeks burning up and I instantly regret tangling my hair into a pony tail. This is probably the most normal thing that happened to me in about nine months.

He places his hand next to my left thigh and leans on. I feel his perfume and something in me shivers. My heart rate goes wild but I cannot force myself to look away. He puts his palm really gently on my right cheek and his face is so close I can see every pore on his skin. I give in and let out a quiet exhale. I close my eyes and my body is fulfilled with warmth as his lips lock with mine. He moves a little to stand fully in front of me and takes my face in both of his hands. His lips open more and more eagerly as he doesn’t see any objection on my side. My legs clench around his waist, I throw my arms around his neck. I pull him closer but it’s difficult to say whether I’m motivated by the kiss or the simple need of a hug.

I feel awaken. My body’s warm, pulsing with every beat my heart does. For the first time in many months I feel alive and I relish this moment because I know that in a minute, everything will end.

And it does.

I push him away a little too hard. He has to take a step back to prevent a fall. The passionate fire turns into anger.

“Don’t do it.”

I feel a twinge in my chest seeing pain in his eyes. He looks as if I just crushed his last hope. His blue eyes are tired, miss their old spark. I hate myself for pushing him away and feeling the way I feel.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because it doesn’t make sense,” I hiss through my teeth.

“What doesn’t?”

“Us.”

He winces and shifts nervously.

“What?”

I clench my palm into a fist and press it against my forehead, leaned forward. A forgotten suffering comes back to me. I’ve buried it so deep inside I was certain it was gone but it’s been waiting for me. A battle I didn’t want to fight starts right here and right now. And I, again, want to be dead and dead only. I close my eyes so tightly it almost hurts as does every cell in my body.

“We don’t make sense,” I utter after anticipating a less painful moment.

He starts breathing quicker. He’s as lost as he’s never been before. I imagine that’s how he looked like calling me to save me. Helpless in the face of the truth.

“How could you have fallen in love with me, then? ” he asks, hopelessness taking over him. “Despite all the pain I’ve caused you, all the things I’ve said...”

“I suppose love is a kind of madness,” I say, my unseeing eyes focused on one irrelevant point.

“Your love is illogical, since I’ve always been an utter cock.”

“Not always,” I reply, smirking weakly. “But we don’t love for the logical reasons. We love despite all the illogical ones.”

We fall silent. I enjoy my most sane moment for several minutes. It can disappear anytime.

“I love you.”

I raise my head up. It feels like my heart skips a beat.

His eyes gaze at me with pain I’ve never seen on his face. He almost pants, his arms are unfolded. He’s like a living target. He’s just showed me where to shoot and I stretch my bow, aiming for his chest.

“But you cannot give me the love I want,” I reply, my voice stifled. I finally sigh in exasperation. “We’re far two different. It would be a disaster of a relationship. Can you imagine yourself cleaning our flat every Saturday, planning our wedding, putting our children to sleep? Because this is want I want. But it would only hurt us more.”

“I can change,” he says.

I scoff.

“And that’s the point,” I respond. “I don’t want you to change. I love you the way you are. I love every part of you. But you cannot love me. You couldn’t have loved me before and you can’t do it now.”

“I think I’ve loved you long before,” he says in a weak voice.

I am... sorry. Forgive me.

You can see me.

You do count.

I’ve always trusted you.

Thank you.

The one person who mattered the most.

I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper.

You look well.

I’m worried about you, Molly.

I love you.

I gaze at him almost breathless. I blink and make myself utter a response:

“I love you, too,” I whisper. My eyes fill with tears. “But you cannot make me happy... Sherlock.”

His name tastes sweet in my mouth. I’ve missed saying it. Now I glance at his lips and think about the moments we shared a few minutes ago and back then in the hospital. I could share them with him forever. I would never get bored of him. But there would be times when he would forget about my presence in our flat, when he wouldn’t listen to me, chasing a lead. When he would be lost and I couldn’t find him.

And now... me with my mood swings and moments of insanity striking when the least expected. With my broken mind. Unfixable. Fucked up.

He suffers and this time, I’m the one to blame. I’ve broken the unbreakable man.

“I’ve turned you into something you’ve always hated,” I say. “You’re weak, you’re an easy target. You’re emotional and vulnerable.”

“As I’ve always been,” he replies. “You’re my strength.”

I wince.

“Strength? Sherlock-“

“You’re my strength because you’ve helped me understand myself better than anyone. I’ve never had to pretend with you. And... and back then in Sherrinford, when I realised how much pain I’ve caused you... no one ever has made me realise so much of me with so little words as you have. You are the reflection of my sensitivity. With you, I’m no longer myself.”

He begins to slowly get closer.

“But... But this is my point!” I protest. “It’s not a good thing becau-“

“It is a good thing because... what does it really mean - being myself?” He stops at less than a foot from me and scoffs. “I am myself in every minute of my life. I won’t miss my old self, though. I was a completely blind moron, who couldn’t appreciate people around him. And you’ve managed to look behind this curtain and see the man I am now. You’ve taught me to be who I am now.”

He smiles, lifting only one corner of his lips but he knows. I try to back out and escape his look but I feel that I don’t want to. My body is slowly giving in. It is so warm. It feels so good. I love him so much.

“But the old Molly may be no longer there. I’m a mess now,” I mumble, trying to avoid his gaze.

He cups my face in his palms again and places our foreheads together. I can’t resist. I don’t want to resist. I lose control over my head and I’m not even worried. A pleasant wave of chemicals floods my body and they’re better than any of the antipsychotics I’ve taken in the past nine months. I’m still a mess. I know that Sherlock will regret his decision one day when a switch in my brain goes off and I’ll stand at a rooftop (flashbacks will kill him, though). But I’m tired of trying to be normal.

“So am I. When I found out that Eurus had attacked you... I was both furious and hurt. I was torn. I still feel guilty over the fact that I couldn’t have prevented this and that she could have killed you. I was ready to bring hell on Earth. Maybe you’re a mess... but you’re also somehow a piece of puzzle that’s missing from my messy life.”

I feel the warmth of his breath on my face, the softness of his hands on my cheeks. His curls tickle my eyelids. I so weak.

“Oh, come on,” he whispers, “just give in already.”

I giggle and lose myself completely. I want to scream... but everything I do speaks louder than words.