#i miss u unwind fandom

[hayconrisa]

my connor plushie is done.... should i post him now or wait until i finish hayden and risa....

[themilky-way]

kinship {loki odinson}

gif credit: go-fandom-imagines

pairing: loki odinson x female! reader

summary: loki never thought that he’d defend, let alone protect, a midgardian. but after seeing you, in your most vulnerable states, he made it his mission to look after you. loosely based on this song. 

warnings: some hints of violence (nothing too graphic), blood, and like one bad word. also when the characters say “kid” to you, it’s nothing age wise it’s just something i feel they’d call you yk.

notes: i’m in my loki feels ya’ll know the drill i just miss this man. also ik some of u ladies don’t have long hair i’m sorry! i’m having a little trouble making the words fit and stuff so please give me tips on how to improve!

the first time it happened was when you were sleeping. he never meant to walk in on your frail body, curled up in a ball in the over sized armchair tony had installed in the common room. your feet were tucked in neatly beneath you, with one hand splayed out across your stomach while the other held a book, your thumb keeping it partially open. your head had lolled down so it could rest on the arm rest, and while at first it had been rather uncomfortable, you let your eyes naturally droop so they could rest. 

it had been the middle of the night, roughly around two in the morning, when loki decided to walk around the tower. he did this every so often, finding some sort of comfort from the peace and quiet the darkness held, but he had never encountered anybody else. he walked down the hall and past every avenger’s room, until he reached the living room. originally, his plan was to stand at the wide glass window the room displayed and simply watch the city lights glitter in all sorts of patterns. after that, he would go to the terrace for a bit, just enough for the sun to come up and the sky to change to warmer colors. but he didn’t do that tonight. why? well, he didn’t really know the answer to that himself. 

when he entered the room, he came across your sleeping form. he noticed the way in which you nestled your body further down the fur of the cushion and curled yourself into your body just a little more to stop goosebumps from forming. you were cold, your body heat not enough to cover the sharp temperatures that reached you. loki, taking note of this, took off his cardigan, and walked over to where you were sleeping. he straightened the delicate fabric before he laid the emerald green sweater over your frame. he tucked it in where he felt it might fall over with a random movement, careful to not dig his fingers in too deeply so it would hurt or startle you. next, he took the liberty to carefully retract the open book from your hand to place it on the coffee table, and then grabbed more of his cardigan so it covered your relaxed hand and tummy. he drew back a few steps, to examine his work. he felt it was mediocre, not as good as it might’ve been if steve or wanda had done it, but it was enough for you to rest. 

loki was not a man who grasped the concept of emotional connections very well. he was someone who didn’t have a feel for intimacy, who despised physical touch, who didn’t know anything about feelings other than hatred or malice. but here he was, peering down at your frail body, in one of its most fragile states that could possibly exist, and felt something. he didn’t know what it was, and he knew he didn’t want to find out, but it would reach him. the feeling, along with the desire, to get to know you in more intricate ways. 

he walked over to the couch a couple of feet to the right of where you were and took a seat, folding his left leg onto the soft, plush seat while the other one remained planted on the marbled floor. he had a view of the window, like he originally planned to study, but he found his attention drifting to another sight. he observed how quietly you breathed, the soft exhales that your nose released every few seconds. after a while, he noticed how your lips parted slightly and began to exhale with it instead. the soft breaths turned louder, and your snores were now evident to him. they weren’t loud, barely even there, and only lasted a minute or two before they returned to regular breathing. 

he also noticed how the hair on top of your head was beginning to disperse from its neat place. the soft, baby hairs that adorned the sides of your forehead lost their place and decided to scavenge for another, and the more you adjusted your head, the more they ruffled. he also saw the way your body slightly trembled from the sudden gusts of wind the air conditioner would send, and how you finally embraced his clothing. it sent a thrill through loki, the thought, the image of you breathing in his scent that lingered on his sweater, how you seemed to like it and do it so mindlessly. it empowered him. and so he stayed there until dawn. 

the next time loki encountered you in a similar state was two weeks later. tony had sent him to fetch you for a mission that was risky, and he had felt bad to include you since you had put in some vacation hours. loki, although he would never openly admit to anyone nor himself, had conducted some research on you since he first saw you. he knew you were stressed, deeply longing some time off to unwind and focus on yourself, and he seemed almost hesitant to follow through with stark’s request. nevertheless, he started his way up to your room, following the route to the elevator, and cutting some sharp corners to finally reach your corridor. as he was strolling down it, however, he caught the hints of different patternized beats and melodies coming from the end of it. he kept his ears perked in case he heard someone else, brows furrowed in confusion, but as he kept his pace and finally reached the outside of your door, he discovered the music was comingfrom you. he felt weird, intruding into your personal space like this, but in his defense, stark had sent him. just before he could reach up and properly knock, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. not sufficient enough for you to see him but enough for him to see you. he watched your body, a little too intently for his liking, flow to the rythmn of the upbeat song. your hands reaching up to run them through your hair while your hips swayed from side to side. your right foot would step out and then you’d bring your left one in, and then did the opposite. 

all in all, it was an innocent dance, you were releasing tension that you were holding in for a while, and you were happy. loki saw that, in your face to be more exact. his eyes first reached your own, which were closed and nowhere near recognizing his broad figure in your doorway. he scanned your nose, how your nostrils would flare harder than usual whenever you released a longer breath. he compared it to when he first saw you sleeping in the common room, and he couldn’t decide which event he liked better. he finally reached your lips, and he had to physically fight his newfound urges and stop himself from busting in and connecting them to his own. they were delicate, soft, and slightly chapped. it was evident that you picked at the skin on your bottom one because he noticed a small red patch on one side of your bottom lip. he couldn’t look away, and he felt awful, thinking of you in such intimate ways while you were unbeknownst of his presence. but what made him almost completely lose his mind was the moment in which you tucked that very same lip, the red, almost raw, portion of it between your teeth. he let his eyes run over the action, and felt an all too familiar emotion grow in the pit of his stomach, one that he never imagined you’d be the one to elicit.

he’d had enough. he’d seen enough. without thinking twice on it, loki barged into your bedroom, steel door hitting the wall with a strong bang, and spoke with authority. 

“stark needs you for a mission. he wants you onboard in ten.” you spun around to face him, a sharp gasp escaping your throat and shocked expression washing over your features. he had to mask his worry and regret of scaring you like this with indifference. he needed to do it like this. he couldn’t risk you turning too far and opening your oh so beautiful eyes only to find him creepily concentrating on you. 

“loki, what the hell,” you breathed. “you fucking scared me!” 

he tried to not let the way you had voiced that get to him. you were startled, frightened, and that mixed with the energy you were dancing with was sure to leave you gasping. but loki had seen you, twice now, in some of your purest forms. so the way you softly huffed his name, even for different reasons, made his mind run wild and his heart jump hurdles. he managed to keep his face stilled, though, and rolled his eyes and told you not to be such a wuss and to shut your music off. you walked over and turned the knob of your stereo down, complying. it took almost every cell in his body to keep from muttering out incoherent apologies, pulling you in close and stroking your ruffled hair. but he didn’t do that. 

“yeah yeah. whatever. can you tell tony that i can’t go? i’m taking some days off and i-”

“he made it clear to me that you’re presence is crucial to the outcome of this mission,” he interrupted, his voice low. you rolled your eyes and started to frantically assemble your go bag, thanking loki for the message. he wanted to stay and watch you do this too, but all he did was let out a hum of acceptance and walk out your door. as he walked through the corridors and seemingly endless turns to leave your dormitory, he replayed everything he saw, and a small smile curved its way onto his own lips. and for the entirety of the next week that you were gone, he kept doing it. 

you, with much reluctance, had hopped on the plane with steve, bucky, tony, and natasha. it was a hard mission, but you had been trained by one of the fiercest assassins that the world ever saw. so, alongside natasha, you fought almost effortlessly. but regardless of how effective you and your team performed, the enemy was also calculated. he managed to trick you into believing he was alone, that he was finishing this fight by himself. but when bucky was holding the sinister man down, he got hit with a strong blow to his shoulder. the metal of the bullet would have clashed against the metal of his own arm, but this bullet, according to the dying words of the man, was made especially for bucky. he was wounded, and tony flew to get him off the field as quickly as he could. natasha took hold of the man and held him down one last time, and as more of his soldiers appeared all around you, you and steve attacked them. you gave your everything, landing nasty blows in every direction. steve threw his shield to pin an adversary to the side of a car as he pinned you down on the ground, and you reached over to take it out of the man and shifted so you were able to see behind you. as soon as you did, you connected the blue and red colored metal to the face of another enemy. the last one. the team, from wherever they were standing, relaxed a little and looked around at all the casualties. tony and natasha had managed to take care of the leader, and steve looked over at you from his protective stance and grinned proudly. but his smile abruptly disappeared when he saw you fall back down. he noticed a small pool of blood collecting around your torso and rushed to your aid. 

“tony, (y/n)’s wounded too! get the jet and get her inside. i’ll get bucky,” steve said hurriedly. tony landed shortly after and told friday to bring the jet down to your coordinates. steve looked down at you and let his hand caress the top of your head lightly before speaking again. “hang in there, kid, we’ll take care of you.” 

you tried to make out his figure leave, and eventually run, to where bucky was lying to bring him aboard. you couldn’t really see him, though, because your vision was beginning to blur and your ears had started to ring. you attempted to keep your eyes open to see tony press a tech device to your wound and you winced, eyes squeezing shut tightly. all at once, you stopped hearing tony’s scrambled words, muscles around your face and body going completely numb. then, you succumbed into full darkness and so did everyone and everything around you.

the next time you opened your eyes, it was to a dimly lit operating room. your visual acuity quickly adjusted as your eyes kept bouncing around the different light bulbs, and then you turned your head to the right. you saw bucky peacefully sleeping, a patch adorning the top of his shoulder and an iv scaling up to the actual bag containing the medicine. you then raised your head a little to see that your clothes had been changed to some medical shorts and an oversized t-shirt. you knew then that it had been wanda who had helped, seeing as the band displayed on the shirt was her favorite. next, you turned to the left, and this time, you saw the back of a male figure. after careful study and concentration, you realized it was bruce. 

“bruce?” you voice came out in a hoarse and cracked whisper. but it was loud enough for bruce to turn around and gleam at you. 

“(y/n)! i see you’re awake, can i get you anything?” he took off his glasses and set them down next to some documents and walked over to you. you nodded weakly and shakily asked for some water, making an effort to get up from the bed but stopped after you felt a sharp pain take over the left side of your abdomen. you winced and let out a painful groan, and bruce instantly took a hold of your arm as his other hand reached around your back to steady you.

“careful, you’re hurt.”

“what happened, exactly?” you wondered, voice starting to come back to normal. by now, you were properly seated along the edge of the bed with your feet unsteadily planted on the ground. once bruce saw that you were stable enough to not fall, he allowed himself to pour water from a pitcher into a glass that had both been on your side table. you took the glass into your shaky hands and brought the rim up to your lips, relishing the hydration it brought to your dry mouth. you swigged it rather quickly, and bruce took it back and set it down before answering your question. 

“well, you were on a mission, from what steve tells me. they brought you and bucky to me as soon as they could. you were stabbed, kiddo. i patched you up and took out your iv about an hour ago.”

your lips parted and let your jaw open a little in a surprised motion. you had a knife, at one point in your fight, plunged into you? you didn’t even feel anything. your head started to throb now that you were fully awake, and you could feel the pain more clearly. 

“you’re strong, you know,” his voice brought you back to him. it was reassuring, gentle, just like you knew bruce was. “all of you guys are.” 

you smiled at him and reached out to touch his hand, and squeezing it lightly. he pulled you into a hug, and you accepted it kindly, acknowledging the help and most importantly the presence of one of your best friends. when you pulled back, he saw you grimace as another shot of pain spread across your abdomen. he asked you if you desired to go to your room, and after you said yes, he was quick in his efforts to completely stand you up and off the bed. his hand was holding one of yours, and the other was on your back like before, but just as you were beginning to walk, another voice spoke. 

“i can take you. if you allow me.” 

your eyes diverted in the direction of the voice it came from, and you landed on a pair of sharp blue orbs. stopping dead in your tracks, you found your mouth becoming dry again. his eyes pierced into your own, and you couldn’t find any word combination that would possibly make sense. you looked at bruce, as did he, and you found yourself nodding. you turned back to see loki all stood up and heading over to where you were standing. since bruce was holding you from the right, loki let his hand slip around your waist on the other side, a few goosebumps forming around your body at the contact. the other hand, reached to take yours in his and held it strongly. you started walking again, at first slowly, but once you got the hang of your own legs again, it became much easier for the both of you.

the walk to your room was silent, but not awkward. he grip on your waist was sturdy, but gentle and whenever you let out huffs of pain, he would stop and allow you to rest for a while. eventually, you reached your door, and he let go of your hand to open it. 

“may i?” loki inquired. you simply nodded again, and he led you in. when you saw the arrangement of pillows and blankets that awaited your arrival, it took you aback. you looked at him before asking, “did you do this?”

he stared at you for a few seconds, enough time for you to feel butterflies crawling around, and nodded.

during your entire stay at the tower, you couldn’t really deny the way you saw loki. it wasn’t anything deep, just a simple, growing attraction towards him. when you first arrived, loki was being detained after literally destroying the entire city, so his attitude towards you was hostile. but you found him handsome, despite his rude behavior, and his snappy comments and witty banter made the emotion within you much stronger. over time, you tried your best to be nice to him, to really get to know him unlike the majority of your team. no matter how many times loki shut you out of his life, you didn’t take it personal and continued to be your happy and cheery self when you saw him. 

over time, loki stopped fighting to keep you out, and he switched from being rude to acting annoyed. you viewed this as a win and didn’t delve too much into far more personal problems to keep him from shutting you out again. despite you promptly sticking to this ideology, you couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t speak to you as often as he did these past few weeks. it was strange, but then again, it’s loki, you thought.

god, but now, he does this? watches you for who knows how long while you’re in the middle of a drug-induced trance? offers to take you to your room, which apparently he’s arranged to fit your commodity, and holds you so perfectly? it’s all too much for you, the way he makes you feel, but even though you try to push the thought away, it bombards once more. 

one of your legs gives out, and you almost, almost fall to the ground. his free hand reached over to grab the other side of your hip to hold you, tightly squeezing the soft muscle that was there. he stilled, watching you intently to see if you were alright and looking for any signs of severe pain. you felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t look up, fully knowing that if you did, you’d give out again. instead, you looked down at your oversized clothes and focused on the design.

“let me get you to bed, so you can rest. can i do that?” his tone was caring, nursing even. his voice was silky, intoxicating your senses more than you liked. you wanted him to talk forever and listen to him rant about endless topics that were running through his mind. but right now your well being prevented you from doing that so you simply muttered, “please.”

he moved so he was behind you, his hands moving along the fabric of your clothes so they didn’t separate from your waist. he pushed you gently and guided you to your side of the bed, eventually letting his hands slide off gradually from your sides as you sat. you missed his touch as soon as it left. and he missed touching you.

as you scooted up so your head could lay on the soft, cushioned pillow, loki removed some other ones that he deemed unnecessary to your comfort. then, he grabbed the folded blanket he placed at the foot of the bed and unfolded it over you. immediately you nuzzled into it and took in the scent that it gave off, and you could’ve sworn that you recognized it. loki noticed it, and he let his mind wander to the night he took care of you sleeping, how you’d done the same exact thing to the smell of his cardigan. it sent him into a frenzy, stomach erupting into fluttering butterflies, hands turning clammy, and pinkish heat coloring his cheeks. how was it possible, he thought, that you made him feel like this. he didn’t notice how long he had observed you for, his eyes raking up your body and wishing nothing more than to embrace it once and for all. to feel the warmth of your hugs, and to ease your pain, even if it would be for a brief moment. his eyes continued traveling up towards you face, and when he finally reached your eyes, he found yours already looking at him. 

“you can take a seat over there if you’d like?” you questioned him. you nudged with your head at a sofa that was behind him, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked back to look at it. he turned back around and asked, “you want me to stay?”

“yeah, i kinda do. you don’t have to obviously,” you stopped mid sentence as a new wave of pain rushed through, grimacing. as it passed, you continued, “but it’d be nice.”

of course he was going to stay. he knew he didn’t have to, but he wanted to. he wanted to take care of you, nurse you in every possible way he could so you could dance animatedly again. so you could fall asleep in the common room, reading your favorite novel and cuddle his sweater. and he wanted you. so without much hesitation this time, he offered you a warm, kind smile and made his way to the sofa and settled in. you, on the other hand, adjusted so your legs were folded but your back was still on the bed to avoid hurting yourself. it was an uncomfortable position, but you weren’t one to complain. you stayed there looking at the ceiling and counted the little glow in the dark stars that tony had glued for you. all the while you could feel a strong gaze look at you, but you were too afraid to say something or even look over. about ten minutes passed with utter silence, the sounds of breaths being exhaled exempt. 

“you could’ve died.” 

“we all could’ve.”

“yes, but you could’ve died.” he regretted enhancing the word as soon as he spoke it. had he said too much? gone too far? he saw you shift your focus from the stars to his face, confusion written all over it. he didn’t look away, though, as embarrassing as it was for him.

“i thought you didn’t like me,” you remarked. loki scoffed and rolled his eyes before returning them toward you. “this has nothing to do with liking you, human.”

you chuckled at this, the rumbling of your chest sending another low shot of pain. “then what does it have to do with?”

he turned away and focused on your tiny bookshelf in the corner of your dorm instead. “taking care of you,” he answered faintly. at this, you’re features relaxed. the smallest smile began to tug at your lips, eyes beginning to sparkle with some sort of affection towards the god.

“ah, so you like me.” 

loki laughed lightly at your reply, but mostly to hide the nervousness his voice might convey if he spoke. he found it stunning; how you effortlessly made him feel worthy of kinship. another, shorter, ripple of silence took over, but you were the one to break it this time. 

“can you take care of me?” the words hit him like a punch in the stomach, and almost instantly his mind started running wild once more. every phrase that appeared to be coherent was not anymore. he looked at you, thinking about how innocently you had voiced your words, how genuine you felt them. 

“loki?”

“hm?” he pretended not to have heard you, pretended to be lost in some other thought that wasn’t you. 

“can you stay here tonight?” 

never in his life did loki imagine he’d be watching over an injured midgardian. he also never imagined for them to be you. “of course, i don’t mind,” he swiftly responded. he mentally scolded himself for answering so fast and at how needy he probably sounded. nevertheless, any thought of embarrassment disappeared from his mind when you wholeheartedly smiled at him. you thanked him, and let your eyes close naturally. your head had relaxed completely against the pillow and your arms were entangled in the fuzzy blanket. you spoke, for one last time that night, and groggily whimpered, “g’night, loki.”

for the third time, loki was studying yet another one of your most vulnerable forms. it left him at ease knowing that nothing could ever harm you as long as he was there. and he was starting to realize in much greater depth, that there was nothing in this broken world that he wouldn’t do for you. to make you happy; to keep you safe. when he finally replied, it was mainly for him to hear it only.

“g’night, (y/n).”

[lord0fries]

Pass the happy! 🌻 When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications!

Oh, thank you!

5 things that make me happy are:

Tumblr. It's a great place to unwind (and catch news that i missed from twitter)

Fandom. It's my lifeblood at this point

My mutuals, y'all know who u are 💖💖💖

Fuckinuuuuuuhhhhh memes. Just, memes

I got a ps4 for xmas so that's great

I'll @ some people later, don't got the spoons rn

[saiilorstars]

The Beginning of Everything

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Female OC x 10th Doctor

(OC Face claim: Marjorie de Sousa)

// Story Masterlist // 

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Ch. 7: Partners in Crime

Chapter Summary: Renata struggles traveling with the Doctor after Martha's departure. She tries to follow the Doctor through his crazy ways of helping people but she just can't help but point out how many rules they break! And the Doctor doesn’t make it any easier when he tries to argue with her.

"It's crazy-"

"Of course humans wouldn't be able to detect any-"

"-what you're saying-"

"-extraterrestrial signals but I have the-"

"-I mean what's the point of-"

"-TARDIS constantly checking for anything strange and there it was," the Doctor pushed the monitor so that it was in front of Renata. "Adipose Industries. Bunch of conspiracy theories-"

"Doctor, the humans are always looking for crazy theories-"

"Well it happens that these are not so far off. We really should just pop in and check to make sure everything is alright."

There was a clear 'why' written across Renata's face. "What is your obsession with planet Earth?" That was one question she'd been asking ever since she met the Doctor on Gallifrey. Up to now, she suspected there wasn't a clear answer.

The Doctor just smiled at her question. "Renee, I really think we need to check it out. Just a couple of investigation scenes and-"

"Which will involve us breaking in and lying to officials - no, no way!" Renata turned away from the monitor, intending on going into the corridors so that she wouldn't have to listen to anymore of the nonsense.

"Oh we're not going to be doing anything bad!" the Doctor reached forwards and grabbed her arm.

"Really?" Renata pulled her arm and crossed them. "What does your little plan entail, exactly?"

"Just, you know, bit of the pyschic paper and-"

Renata stopped him with a hand in his face. "Psychic paper? You mean that little portable lying booklet?"

"That's...a strange name to give it but...sure," the Doctor nodded his head.

"And in that little paper we're going to lie and say we're some other people to get ourselves into the Adipose headquarters?"

"Um...yes," the Doctor had to contain himself under Renata's scolding face. To him, honestly, it was both funny and a bit scary how serious she got sometimes. He'd come to learn that it was often.

"Do you hear yourself?" Renata raised her hands in front of her, making it clear she wanted no part in this plan. "You're going to go in that building, interrupt business and for what? Conspiracy theories?"

"Renee, I'm going," the Doctor left it clear, turning for the console and preparing the controls to land on Earth. "Question is, will you be coming to make sure I don't get into trouble or will you be here."

Renata's eyebrows raised almost increduliously. "Am I to be your babysitter?"

"Well, no, but you seem so determined to give yourself that role…"

"Doctor!" Renata huffed.

"Well, you are!" the Time Lord turned around to defend himself before she decided to smack him on the back.

"We've been at this for a month-" Renata gestured between them, "-and you can't seriously understand that I am against the lying and breaking in?"

"You didn't have trouble in 1913," the Doctor mumbled under his breath.

Renata's eyes widened. "I was doing that to fit in! Not to break in all silly-nilly!" A small smile began spreading across the Doctor's face. "Why are you smiling?" Renata crossed her arms, expecting there to be some joke she hadn't caught like usual.

"You said silly-nilly, but somehow I'm the one that uses childish words."

Renata air-strangled him but brought her balled hands to her mouth. "Sometimes I just can't with you!"

"So you've said in this past month," the Doctor said all proudly which only irritated Renata even more.

One month she had been in the TARDIS with the Doctor after Martha left them, and somehow she hadn't strangled the Doctor into his next incarnation. Yes, the Doctor had done everything in his power to make sure she felt welcomed in the TARDIS - which she truly did. And yes, he was never purposely rude to her and he was always attentive to what she needed or where she wanted to go. But that didn't stop him from frustrating her with his childish antics and constant rule breaking and running.

Renata honestly wondered how he had made it this far without regenerating again.

Every day he had somewhere new he wanted to go and almost every time there was something he just needed to help and save which would then bring along danger and a lot of running. When they weren't travelling, the Doctor was 'fixing' the console and causing things to break. He was a fast talker when he was excited and thus had Renata's ears nearly fall off when they were together discussing things of home or some experiences they've had.

It truly felt like they were those young Time Lords again still messing around in her foundation.

Renata tried pushing those feelings away, every day, but being so close didn't help. Now there she was...bickering away with him...and remembering everything she'd fought for so long to forget.

"Renata, c'mon, it'll be fun," the Doctor smiled incredibly wide and held out a hand for her, wiggling his fingers.

She hated herself. She truly did. Renata took her hand, ignoring the Doctor's face momentarily go smug, and let him bring her back to the console.

~ 0 ~

A couple of hours later, the two embarked on a journey for Adipose Industries. As the two walked along a busy street, Renata continuously looked around like they were already going to get caught. The wind blew much of her blonde hair on her face, making it more difficult for her to keep a 'look out'.

"I see it," she said to the Doctor once she caught sight of the large building meant to serve as headquarters for the company. "But there's plenty of security check, I'm sure."

"Good thing we're going through the back," the Doctor pulled her to the left to go along the building towards its back.

Renata's head did a double-take in the process. "The back? What? Like actual thieves?"

The Doctor preferred not to get into a whole argument on the technicalities of what they were doing. Renata grew even more self-conscious as they arrived to a fire exit.

"What are you doing?" she nearly hissed when she saw him pulling out his sonic screwdriver.

"Getting us in," he motioned as he flicked on the sonic.

"Oh my God, we're actually breaking in - ah," she put a hand over her chest and looked around, properly frightened.

The Doctor hid his amused smile in his work. It was actually rather adorable the way she got so worked up over things he did so normally. When the door opened, they crossed into a set of solitary corridors. All the noise came from their quick strides.

"Doctor," Renata had another near attack when she saw a security guard walking opposite of them. Her arm curled around his on instinct.

Without conflict, he just pulled out the psychic paper and flashed it at the security as they passed on by. "John Smith, Renata Cartwright, Health and Safety."

"How do you do that so calmly?" Renata whispered to him despite leaving the security guard well behind.

"Do what?" the Doctor repeated rather cluelessly.

"Great," Renta unwinded her arm from his and sighed, "You don't even realize you do it anymore."

After making it to the higher levels, they discovered that there was to be a private lecture from the very head of the company herself.

"You don't think they'd notice two unregistered people waltzing into the lecture room?" Renata had to ask as she followed behind the Doctor in a hallway.

"That's why we're not going there, clearly."

"What?" Renata stopped, dumbfounded. "Then where are we going?"

"Projector room, c'mon!"

Renata slowly continued to follow. "But...how are we getting in?"

~ 0 ~

"Health and Safety. Film department," the Doctor once more showed his psychic paper to a man working the computers in the projection room set right above the lecture room.

Renata shook her head behind the Doctor.

They were able to see the head, a blonde woman with glasses who went by 'Miss Foster', describe the components and process of her company's products to the small audience. "Adipose Industries. The 21st century way to lose weight. No exercise, no diet, no pain. Just lifelong freedom from fat. The Holy Grail of the modern age. And here it is. You just take one capsule, one capsule, once a day, for three weeks. And the fat, as they say…the fat just walks away."

Renata couldn't help scoff as she listened. "Do all the humans have an obsession with thinness?"

Beside her, the Doctor nudged her to be careful with her words. He motioned to the man working the computers who was giving Renata a curious look for her statement.

"U-uh," Renata flustered and looked at the window again. "I meant...the lot of humanity."

The Doctor gave a discreet shake of his head, fairly amused. Renata was one woman who did not know how to travel. That was novelty.

~ 0 ~

"Don't you think we're playing our luck here?" Renata walked right beside the Doctor through an aisle of small cubicles.

The Doctor had a bright idea to go to one of the employees and pick up a couple more information.

"Just relax, Renee," the Doctor wondered if he would ever get tired of telling that to her. Because everytime they traveleld somewhere, it was the same thing. She was overly nervous about getting caught.

They came into the cubicle of a young, dark-skinned woman who was in the middle of a call with a customer.

"John Smith, Renata Cartwright, Health and Safety. Don't mind us," the Doctor whispered so as not to interrupt her phone call. He let Renata take a seat first then took the one next to her.

Soon as she was done, the Doctor got straight to questioning. It truly amazed Renata how well he did it. There was no faltering, no stuttering, not a trace of nervousness in his face.

"If you could just give us a list of some of your customers we'll be on our way," the Doctor finished it off with a big nice smile.

The employee, Clare, seemed more than happy to oblige.

"That's the printer there?" the Doctor stood up for a moment, unknowingly giving Renata a hearts attack thinking he might get caught by Miss Foster. She'd only been in the room 15 minutes ago, what's stopping her from coming back?

"By the plant, yeah," Clare nodded.

"Brilliant," the Doctor beamed but Renata yanked him down to his seat again. Soon as her hand let go of his arm, he sprung right back on his feet. "Has it got paper?"

"Yeah, Jimbo keeps it stocked," Clare found him amusing.

Renata did not. She grasped the Doctor's arm and pulled him down with all her might. "Sit down!" she hissed. She then smiled at Clare. "Anyway, if you could print that off. We'll be on our way. Thanks."

The employee typed on her computer for a moment before giving them the 'ok' nod. Renata stood up followed by the Doctor but stopped when she heard the Doctor ask, "Oh, what's that?"

Renata turned around to see Clare giving him a piece of paper.

"My telephone number," the woman answered his question.

Renata raised her eyebrows.

The Doctor looked between the paper and Clare. "What for?"

There came a smirk across Clare's face. "Health and Safety. You be health, I'll be safety."

The Doctor stammered for an excuse. Renata...did not.

"I am going to report you!" she threatened the woman as she snatched the paper from the Doctor and slammed it on Clare's desk.

"What-"

"You can expect a call from your superiors tonight!" Renata grabbed the Doctor by the arm and yanked him out of the cubicle.

Honestly, she thought. Where was that human's professionalism!?

~0~

Night time fell and instead of going back to the TARDIS like Renata believed, the Doctor dragged her to continue investigating. This time they were set to pose as employees of Adipose Industries who made house visits. As the Doctor flashed his psychic paper to a lucky customer they were visiting, Renata rolled her eyes on the side and began to count the many times he'd done something like this and gotten away with it.

She couldn't count that high without losing her place.

Now sitting in the customer's, Roger's, living room, they listened to him how the pills had worked for him in so little time.

"I've been on the pills two weeks now, I've lost fourteen kilos!" he finished excitedly.

"That's the same amount every day?" asked the Doctor.

"One kilo exactly. You wake up, and it's disappeared overnight. Well, technically speaking, it's gone by ten past one in the morning."

Renata's brows knitted together. "I-I'm sorry...how...how is that?"

"That's when I get woken up," Roger answered in a matter of fact tone. "Might as well weigh myself at the same time."

"U-um…" Renata glanced at the Doctor to see if he was as confused as she was.

He was. "Could you...could you tell us more about that please?"

"Ten minutes past one, every night, bang on the dot without fail, the burglar alarm goes off. I've had experts in, I've had it replaced, I've even phoned Watchdog. But no, ten past one in the morning, off it goes."

"But with no burglars?" Renata asked to be sure.

"Nothing. I've given up looking."

The Doctor still did not falter. "Tell me Roger, have you got a cat flap?"

Renata made a face at that but nonetheless she followed the plan. Roger showed them to the cat flap on his front door, more than happy to show another person in case this one actually figured it out. "It was there when I bought the house. Never bothered with it. I'm not a cat person."

The Doctor had already begun screening it with his sonic. "No, I've met cat people. You are nothing like them," he murmured.

He's met cat people. Renata inwardly sighed. Of course he's met cat people.

"It's that what it is then? Cats getting inside the house?" Roger frowned.

"Well, thing about cat flaps is that they don't just let things in, they let things out as well…" the Doctor said slowly, still coming up with ideas to follow.

"Like what?"

"The fat just walks away..." The Doctor pushed himself back on his feet and turned to Roger with an excessive smile. "Well, thanks for your help. Tell you what, maybe you could lay off the pills for a week or so."

"Probably forever," Renata added. "You could just try the regular eat healthy and exercise thing..."

The Doctor stiffened when he heard a small 'bleep' from inside his jacket. "Ooh, we gotta go, sorry."

"What-"

The Doctor hurriedly opened the door brought Renata along with him. He reached inside his jacket to pull out a device he'd hand made earlier that day.

"When did you make that!?" Renata gave a face at the device, fearing it would explode like the last thing he made.

"This morning! Now hurry!" He let go of her completely and picked up his pace. Renata was also not good at running.

Groaning, Renata did her best to keep up.

She managed to catch up when he made a stop by the corner of one street. He banged a hand on his device, ignoring Renata's sarcastic 'that'll make it work' then ran off again.

"What are we looking for!?" Renata panted when they stopped again.

Not answering, the Doctor held up the device for a better signal. He waved it around then lowered it to check the readings. When it dinged, he beamed and ran again.

"Oh my God," Renata groaned and chased after him. They were nearly ran over by a rushing van in the process. However, soon as it passed by, the Doctor turned in the same direction to follow it...apparently, the signal was coming from it.

He finally came to a stop at an intersection and was disappointed to find the signal gone.

~ 0 ~

Much later would find the Doctor examining one of the golden capsules of the Adipose company. He was looking at it through a magnifying glass, far interested in its components. "Ohh, fascinating!" he gawked. "Seems to be a bio-flip digital stitch, specifically for…"

"Are we still on that?" Renata's voice stopped him in the middle of his discovery. He glanced back to find her leaning against the corridor's threshold.

"Well, uh, I was…" the Doctor motioned the magnifying glass still in his hand then lowered it.

"Still investigating," Renata finished for him, giving a small shake of her head. "Honestly Doctor, don't you ever get tired of fixing everyone's problems?"

Because she had asked in a simple, curious manner, the Doctor entertained it. "What do you mean?"

Renata shrugged her shoulders as she came off the threshold. "I mean just what I said. You always go and find a problem - like Sto's government and a broken water pipe - that you have to fix. Last week it was some planet's default engineering settings and today it's…" she had come up to him in the while of her explanation and took the Doctor's magnifying glass from, "...Adipose," she looked at him through the magnifying glass, her brown eyes enlarging from the glass.

"Are you asking me why I help people?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, finding the question too far even for her uptightness. Because yes, it only took a month to realize that Renata was uptight.

Knowing how that sounded, Renata ventured to clarify herself. "I don't mean that you shouldn't help people I just…" she thought about it for a second, "...isn't there the Shadow Proclamation to help with cases like these? They are the police and it should be up to them how things get fixed. I don't see why you have to keep doing it."

"The Shadow Proclamation is never that good," the Doctor gave a roll of his eyes, clear dislike for the place. "And I like helping. I can do it, don't see why I shouldn't."

"Yeah, I can see that you like to," Renata chuckled.

"And I can see that you not so much." And the Doctor truly appreciated how Renata was doing her best to keep up with him in his shenanigans.

"I do! You have no idea how much I love to help people, but...when I did it...it was with...our people."

"You don't like to help the humans, then?"

"I do, if I have the chance then...sure," Renata nodded, but it was easy to tell that she wasn't all that into the idea. "But in the end...they're just humans to me. For so long they were only a means to hide myself from the rest of our kind. I miss helping my kind, you know? People I can share my ideas with, my perspectives, my everything. People that would understand me."

The Doctor tilted his head, a faint smile writing itself across his lips. "Renee, what did you used to do back on Gallifrey?"

The question set Renata into nervous state. "U-uh...l-like my...my job?"

"Yeah," the Doctor didn't catch any of her nervousness, too curious imagining her in different positions. "Cos you're all uptight and-"

"Hey," Renata pointed at him but he went on.

"-strict on rules so...I would think of you as one of the teachers at the academy."

Renata blinked, for a moment in disbelief. "You think I was a teacher?"

"Well," he straightened up. "Were you?"

"No," Renata shook her head. "I wasn't."

"Then, what were you?"

Renata stared at him for a minute, the ongoing battle within her taking a bit more than she thought. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about telling the Doctor more about herself - in fact, she already had. Bits and pieces had been exchanged between the two about their past lives on Gallifrey but Renata was always careful not to disclose too much about herself that would risk her identity with the Doctor.

"I...was…" her eyes flickered to the side, "...I worked at a foundation."

Technically, she wasn't lying.

Those were the rules she set herself for. Loopholes.

"You did?" the Doctor became even more curious.

"Mhm. I worked with all sorts of people in need. Children who weren't quite ready for the academy came for some lessons. People who just needed help, whether emotional or physically but didn't have the resources were always welcomed to stop by," Renata looked into the distant, remembering more and more about her foundation. She missed it so much. She missed her workers, her kids, her friends…

"Renata?" the Doctor gently shook her arm to get her out of her thoughts.

She realized she'd let herself think far too much and released an awkward breath, smiling in a flushed manner. "Sorry," she waved a hand at her face.

"No, it's okay," the Doctor softly said, reaching for her waving hand. He liked seeing her remember their home due to the fact she hadn't disclosed much about herself on Gallifrey. He had made it his mission not to get overexcited and push Renata to tell her stories when she wasn't ready. To say, she hadn't even said whose family she was from. But still, the Doctor was forcing himself to be patient.

"Do you want some dinner?" Renata was the one to pull him out of his thoughts this time. With a warm smile on her face, she took his hand. "It's all set up like usual."

The Doctor smiled, forgetting his investigation from then on till the next morning. Renata made it a custom that they were to have dinner every night like normal people. She made pretty damn good meals.

"C'mon," Renata said quietly, still smiling as the two headed for the corridors.

~ 0 ~

The next day, Renata was not the least bit surprised to have the Doctor practically pounding on her bedroom door shouting for her to wake up because they had to go back to Adipose Industries. Swooshing herself out of bed, she got ready and came out of her room...and then smacked the Doctor on the chest and stalked for the console.

"I hate mornings!" was the only explanation the Doctor got for being hit.

They left the TARDIS in an alleyway close to the Adipose Industries building and once more used the fire exit to gain entrance. The Doctor led the way down the same empty corridor but this time stopped midway and turned to a storage closet.

"What...are you doing?" Renata blinked as he opened the door to the small room.

"We need to hide, c'mon," the Doctor didn't wait around for her to warm to the idea and pushed her inside first. As he sonicked the door shut, Renata raved with her back to him.

"Are you mad!? This is wrong!" her hands waved above her head. "First of all, we're bound to get caught! Second of all, it's just wrong!"

The manner in which Renata had said her last statement made the Doctor turn around questionably. "Why? What's wrong?"

In her moment, Renata whirled around to face him and bumped into him because he was literally standing right in front of her. Her eyes blinked rapidly trying not to overthink it. Meanwhile, the Doctor was still demanding to know why she was so freaked out.

"Renata? Why did you say it like that?" his eyebrows knitted together in the manner they always did when he was confused.

Renata slowly looked up to meet his gaze and soon wished she hadn't. She found that she was vulnerable to his long look no matter how she felt at the moment. It threatened to give her identity up.

"Renata?" the Doctor finally broke through her thoughts which, admittedly, were making her face warm. "Well?"

"...it's just inappropriate…" Renata quietly said, turning away and walking the most she could inside the small room which turned out to be seven small steps.

The Doctor scoffed, giving a sway of his head. "Really? But it's not to live inside a TARDIS with me?" the moment turned sideways with alarmed eyes the Doctor regretted his response. "N-n-n-n-n-no! Forget I said that!" and he rushed up, but because of the small room he nearly rammed into her.

"Doctor! Just stop!" cried the blonde, swatting him away with her hands.

With a big sigh, the Doctor listened and retreated to the door. He took a seat on the floor, back up against the door. He watched Renata look for a spot of her own until she settled for a small box positioned over another.

"Renee…?"

"Hmm?" Renata wearily glanced over to the Doctor, hoping that whatever came out of his mouth would not send them into another round of bickering.

"On Gallifrey...were you part of...high society? Before you married off, of course."

"Why would you think that?"

The Doctor made a gesture at her. "Just...just the way you act...the way you think. It has all the...makings of a high class Time Lady."

Renata looked down, her fingers fiddling with each other. "And you hate that," she recalled from oh-so-long ago.

The Doctor wasn't about to lie and say he was best friends with that part of their people. "I mean, they weren't particularly the best people for me to spend time with."

"So then why do you tolerate me and my...uptightness?" came Renata's honest question. She knew she was not the ideal companion and she doubted she ever would be.

A warm smile spread across the Doctor's face. "Because I like you of course - you and everything I know about you so far. You're not like the others of your class and I'm happy. Otherwise it would have been a real shame for such a pretty woman with big hearts to go to waste."

Renata's face softened. "Doctor…"

"You working at a foundation just proves it," the Doctor shrugged. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask.. " he cleared his throat, suddenly nervous, "The foundation...did it...did it happen to be…the Auxilium Foundation?" It was like Renata's whole world just stopped. The Doctor was too delved into his own memories to notice it. "There was only a couple foundations and...and you seem the sort to want to help Gallifreyans despite what Time Lord society thought. Was it?"

Renata couldn't bring herself to lie more, at least not in that moment. It was too many memories, too many fond memories she couldn't get rid of. "Yeah…" she passed a hand down her hair, secretly shooting him a glance. "How do you know about it?"

The Doctor released a breath, a dreamy one actually that sped up Renata's hearts in the second."Oh, I, um...I knew someone there…"

"You need to see it, Zuriah. I bet the pictures don't do Earth justice!"

Zuriah laughed softly while the Doctor rambled onto her about what he'd learned of Earth that morning. She shook her head at him and moved on around the empty tables, soon to be filled up with their daily visitors, to set up some of the materials. "Now I know why you probably failed some of your coursework in the Academy. Did you ever stop talking in those classes?"

The Doctor sent an unamused glare her way. "I'll have you know I have my moments of silence."

The scoff Zuriah gave in return was one of clear disbelief. "Just help me out here, please?" she motioned with her hands to the mess of toys on the ground. "Some new recruiters' kids found my stash of toys and didn't exactly learn the rule of 'put it away'."

The Doctor rolled his eyes but got up to help. "So, do you think you could somehow incorporate this planet in your activities?"

Zuriah waved him off. "I don't know. We haven't done the schedule for next week. Perhaps..."

"Oh c'mon! You know you'd love to!" the Doctor hurriedly threw some toys into the bin she'd set up. He followed her around the tables, rambling on about the benefits her people would get if she incorporated Earth into activities.

"Look, Doctor, maybe we could - AH!" she had stepped on a toy and slipped backwards. Her basket went flying in the air along with the materials. She herself would've fallen to the floor if the Doctor hadn't caught her.

"Hm, didn't take you for the klutz," the Doctor smirked at her. Zuriah looked up, her face flushed when she realized their closeness. The Doctor felt it too, but he didn't think about telling her of it. Although he did take notice of how many freckles were over Zuriah's face...they were lovely...

Renata was utterly stunned to see such a soft look on the Doctor's face. He was clearly remembering something...

"Zuriah, that was the, uh..." the Doctor shook his head out of the memory but no matter how much he tried, the freckled-face ginger still smiled at him. It'd been so long since he thought about her...

~0~

After a full day passed, the Doctor finally declared it was time to leave and investigate. Since they had fallen into bits and pieces of conversation after the foundation topic, Renata was itching to get out of there. She was afraid that the Doctor would begin to ask questions about 'Zuriah' which was her before she picked her graduating name.

You can't hide it forever, Renata. The same sentence passed her mind over and over but somehow she still couldn't act.

"Where exactly are we headed now?" Renata inquired once they were striding down the dark corridors.

"Up to the office of course," the Doctor flashed a smile that warned it wasn't technically literal.

Renata would have questioned further had it not been for him pulling her into a hasty walk. They found the staircase and went up...and up...and up…

Of course he meant the roof. Renata actually blamed herself for not seeing this earlier.

The Doctor went straight for the edge and sonicked the cables holding…

"What are you doing?" Renata slowly approached the edge, eyes glued onto the Doctor who was in the process climbing into a window cleaner's cradle.

"Getting a look at the office, what else?" the Doctor shrugged then motioned with a hand for her to join him. Instantly, Renata incredulously blinked. "Don't give me that look! C'mon!"

Nervously, Renata inched closer to the edge and took one look down to the high view. "Um...is this a bad time to tell you...I have a fear of heights…"

"Not surprised," the Doctor said. He then reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling her slowly. "But for another time!"

"Doctor…" Renata struggled to let the Doctor bring her into the window's cradle.

"In you go," the Doctor slipped his other arm around her waist to get her into the cradle.

As soon as Renata felt the cradle wiggling a bit she gasped and latched onto the Doctor for dear life. "We're going to die! We're going to die! We're going to die!" she cried with eyes shut.

There was a fierce determination in the Doctor not to laugh. But he was still thankful that she couldn't see his face right now.

"This is it! This is where you finally kill me!" and because the Doctor didn't know who Renata was, he thought she was just talking about their short time together...when in reality Renata was remembering all the adventures their younger selves took because of him.

"Calm down, it's not moving," the Doctor peeled her off him and aimed the sonic at the controls. Renata gasped again when the cradle descended. "And duck!" he ordered when they were nearing Miss Foster's office.

"You're gonna get us caught," Renata whispered.

The Doctor ignored her and poked his head just slightly above the cradle to peer into the office. He saw a young dark-skinned woman being tied to a chair by body guards while Miss Foster watched. Unknowingly, an old friend was also watching from the other side of the office, right in front of its door.

"What's going on?" Renata curiously asked, still not taking the risk by peering herself.

"Can't hear much," the Doctor mumbled. He could see Miss Foster showing her prisoner a capsule.

"Well, it is a window-"

"Donna!?"

Renata made a face and looked up to find the Doctor, stunned, staring ahead. "What? What is it?"

'Donna?' she watched the Doctor mouth.

What she didn't know was that across the office stood the Doctor's old friend, Donna Noble who was also stunned to see him there.

"DOCTOR!' she excitedly mimed back, her face right in front of the door's porthole.

'But... what? Wha... What?!'

Renata tried following along but the Doctor was just opening and closing his mouth to her.

'OH MY GOD!' Donna continued miming happily.

'But... how?'

'It's me!' Donna pointed her thumbs at herself, as if the Doctor hadn't yet made the connection it was in fact her.

'Well, I can see that!' the Doctor gestured his eyes then pointed at Donna. Beside him, Renata was still hopelessly lost. She was not risking herself to see who it was.

'Oh this is brilliant!' Donna would have laughed if she could.

The Doctor, on the other hand, was perturbed. 'But what are you doing there?'

'I was looking for you!' Donna pointed at him.

'What for?!'

Now Donna, being Donna, did her best to mimic what she was saying which went along the lines of…

'I, came here, trouble, read about it, internet, I thought, trouble = you! And this place is weird! Pills! So I hid. Back there. Crept along. Heard this lot. Looked. You! Cos they…' But when she happened to jerk a thumb to her right she found that Miss Foster, along with the tied-up woman and her body guards, were staring at her.

The Doctor too had caught it.

"Are we interrupting you?" MIss Foster loudly, sarcastically called to Donna.

'Run!' the Doctor urgently mimed for Donna then aimed the sonic ahead to lock the door of the office and give Donna time to run. Without notice, he waved the sonic above and pulled the cradle above.

"DOCTOR!" Renata nearly cried when the cradle shot up.

"Sorry! Sorry!" the Doctor hopped out of the cradle fast and turned to help her out.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on!? Besides probably getting caught - like I told you!"

"Old friend of mine-" the Doctor grunted as he pulled her out, "-in a bit of trouble! Hurry!"

They ran back for the door that laid the staircase. Despite Renata asking questions of who this 'friend' was the Doctor didn't answer many as he was focused on helping Donna out before she was hurt. They came down another set of staircase where they bumped into a redhead. Donna had encased the Doctor in a big hug, ecstatic with finding him. Renata's eyes just flickered from one to the next.

"Oh my God! I don't believe it!" Donna laughed but suddenly stopped to give the Doctor a look over. "You've even got the same suit! Don't you ever change?" The Doctor sarcastically rolled his eyes. "Yeah thanks Donna, not right now."

"Well…" Donna finally noticed that the Doctor was not alone. "Hey-" but that was all she could say to Renata before the Doctor saw the guards and pulled them both up the stairs.

"Doctor! There are guards!" Renata had looked below to see several guards coming after them.

"Yes, I've noticed!"

Donna was too cheery to be affected by the guards coming for them. As they made it back to the roof she explained the events that led her to the building. "Cos I thought, how do I find the Doctor? And then I just thought, look for trouble and then he'll turn up! So I looked everywhere, you name it - UFOs, sightings, crop circles, sea monsters. I looked, I found them all…"

During this, the Doctor had started working on the cradle controls with his sonic. Renata had half a mind to scold him for even thinking about using the damn thing! But she was quick to discover Donna had a rambling mouth much like the Doctor.

"...like that stuff about the bees disappearing, I thought, I bet he's connected. Cos the thing is, Doctor, I believe it all now. You opened my eyes. All those amazing things out there, I believe them all. Well, apart from that replica of the Titanic flying over Buckingham Palace on Christmas Day, I mean that's gotta be a hoax!"

"What d'you mean the bees are disappearing?" the Doctor picked the sentence up by random.

"I don't know. That's what it says on the internet!"

"Doctor!" Renata helplessly watched the Doctor get back into the cradle, and was even more astonished to see Donna so easily getting in as well. "Aren't you even going to question why you're getting in?" she demanded from the ginger.

"I figure it was to escape?" Donna glanced at the Doctor but quickly looked back to Renata. "I'm sorry, what's your n-"

"Renata, get in!" the Doctor urgently said.

"What for!?" Renata argued. "They'll just bring us up again! I'm not here to go up and down like a stupid amusement park ride!"

"No no no, cos I've locked the controls with a sonic cage. I'm the only one who can control it," he promised. "Not unless she's got a sonic device of her own. Which is very unlikely."

The door burst open again and out came Miss Foster.

"RENATA!"

Flinching, Renata clambered into the window cradle. Soon as she was in, the Doctor made it go down.

"How are we getting out!?" the blonde held onto the railing as they went down and down, but suddenly they started going dangerously FAST faster.

The Doctor managed to stop it with the sonic but the force knocked all three down for a moment. Being the first one to get up, he aimed the sonic at the window. Up above, Miss Foster ordered to the building to be deadlocked.

The Doctor retracted the sonic. "Can't get it open!"

"Well, smash it then!" Donna had grabbed a large spanner from the floor and used all her might to shatter the window.

Renata helplessly looked from Donna to the Doctor, wondering how much worse it could get. Her answer came in the form of sparks and smoke from the cradle. "She's cutting the cable!" she shrieked after looking up and seeing Miss Foster aiming some sort of laser pen at the cables. At her words the Doctor and Donna instinctively grabbed on but Renata hadn't had the time and so when the cable broke and the cradle lurched to the side, she was flung back screaming.

"RENATA!" the Doctor wanted to go in after her but calmed after seeing her feet dangling under them.

She'd manage to get ahold of the broken cable and was currently, and dangerously, swaying back and forth. "DOCTOR!"

"Hold on!" the Doctor tried reaching for the cable sustaining her to pull her back up but he just couldn't.

"Doctor!" went Donna this time who was staring up, seeing Miss Foster about to break the last cable.

Angrily, the Doctor aimed the sonic above just at the right moment to make it spark and fall out of the woman's hand. He caught the second sonic and climbed up the cable to another window. He managed to get it open and ordered Donna to follow him.

"I'm not gonna fall am I!?" Donna asked for the blonde below who was crying out in terror.

"Get in! Get in!" the Doctor didn't want to waste time answering obvious questions. His hearts was racing unbelievably fast as he thought of Renata so close to danger (and because of him).

Meanwhile, Renata was crying out to be helped. Her eyes were stinging with tears and from the hard wind hitting her from every direction. She was sure her hands were slipping from the cable and that at any moment she would fall and splat on the ground like the television showed.

Oh God I was wrong - this is how he finally kills me! And yet Renata felt not an ounce of anger with the Doctor. It was just so like him to get near danger, like a taunt, and then get away from it like nothing. It was actually one of the things that attracted her after getting to know his ways. Her hearts pounded like never before yet it was not a new sensation for her.

"AH!" she screamed all over again when she felt hands on her ankles. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

"Renata, it's me!" the Doctor managed to cut through her screams. "I've got you! Stop kicking!" He slowly pulled her down and into the office he and Donna coordinated would be the room of the next window down. "There we go! I've got you!"

"Oh my God! I thought I was going to die!" Renata clung to him with teary eyes. "Oh you stupid, stupid man!"

The Doctor soothed her with a hand on her back and regretted he couldn't do more at that moment on account of still being on the run from Miss Foster. "We have to go, I'm sorry," he pulled away and felt a pang of guilt seeing her tear-stained face.

He took her and Donna out of the room but not before untying the journalist in the office and telling her to go home. They only made it to the call center because Miss Foster and her guards were already waiting for them.

"Well then," Miss Foster pulled off her glasses and raised her head at the trio, "at last."

"Hello," Donna nervously laughed, the thrill of the chase still clouding bits of her.

The Doctor was just the Doctor who said 'hello' to everyone. "Nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor."

"And I'm Donna!"

Renata crossed her arms, deciding the Foster didn't need her name.

"Partners in crime," Foster concluded, eyeing Renata who seemed to falter every now and then from her brave stance. "And evidently off-worlders, judging by your sonic technology."

"Oh yes, I've still got your sonic pen. Nice, I like it," the Doctor raised the sonic pen to give another look. "Sleek, it's kinda sleek." He let Renata and Donna give it a glance as well, but Renata lowered it down.

"I don't think it should matter the form of the thing that nearly killed me."

The Doctor winced and retracted the pen from Renata. "Now-" he looked at Foster, " if you were to sign your real name that would be...?"

"Matron Cofelia of the Five-Straighten Classabindi Nursery Fleet. Intergalactic Class."

"A wet nurse?" Renata gawked for a second. "What...and you're using humans as surrogates?"

Foster gave a curt nod. "I've been employed by the Adiposian First Family to foster a new generation after their breeding planet was lost."

"But who gave you the right to use humans as cows for your reproduction methods!? It's against Shadow Proclamation rules!"

Beside Renata, the Doctor silently laughed that she would ignore a planet being lost because of 'rules'. "How do you mean lose a planet?"

"Oh, politics are none of my concern. I'm just here to take care of the children on behalf of the parents," Foster made a gesture, shrugging her shoulders.

"What, like an outer space super-nanny?" Donna crinkled her nose.

"Yes, if you like."

"So... so those little things they're, they're made out of fat yeah, but that woman, Stacy Campbell, there was nothing left of her." Donna still couldn't shake off that horrible feeling of seeing a nice woman like Stacey disappear into little white blobs of...fat?

"Oh, in a crisis the Adipose can convert bone and hair and internal organs. Makes them a little bit sick, poor things."

"What about poor Stacey!?" Donna incredulously returned.

"Enough," Renata's sharp edged voice cut through the womens' conversation, and the hand she had for Donna was, frankly, irritating the ginger. "Seeding a level 5 planet is against galactic law - you should know that!" she said to Foster who merely raised her eyebrows.

"Are you threatening me?"

The Doctor then put an arm in front of Renata. "We're trying to help you, Matron. This is your one chance; cos if you don't call this off, then we'll have to stop you."

Foster smirked. "I hardly think you can stop bullets." And just as she said it, her guards flanking her took aim.

Alarmed, Renata stepped back.

"No, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, one more thing, before... dying…" the Doctor settled for the blunt word. "Do you know what happens if you hold two identical sonic devices against each other?" he once again gestured to his sonic and Foster's sonic pen.

"...no?" Foster doubtfully answered.

"Nor me, lets find out!" the Doctor happily pointed both sonic objects at each other, activating them at the same time. A high-screeching rang in the room, causing everyone to squirm uncomfortably and a glass pane behind to shatter.

"Come on!" Donna was the one to pull both aliens out of there.

In the process, the Doctor took the lead and ran them down an empty corridor, stopping by a door of a cupboard.

"No more cupboards!" Renata nearly pleaded. Small spaces meant more talking and more talking meant more chances to risk her identity.

"Not quite," the Doctor opened the door and started throwing out the storage's supplies.

"You can't just throw those things out!" Renata said, scandalized as he created a wad of mess on the floor. "Those are some employee's utensils!"

"Another time, Renata!" the Doctor rolled his eyes, this time a smidge of honest annoyance for her lack of priorities.

"Renata?" Donna repeated the name, looking a bit confused as she studied Renata head to toe. "So you're not Rose, then?"

Recalling the name, Renata scowled. "No I am not! Why would you think that?"

"Dunno…" Donna shrugged, "...blonde...and stuff."

"I'm not her," Renata's eyes briefly glanced at the Doctor and saw him working. There was glowing green machinery built into the wall.

"Well, I'm Donna Noble by the way," the ginger held a hand to Renata, realizing that they hadn't been introduced properly.

"Renata," Renata shook Donna's hand. She looked over at the green panel and frowned. "Okay, what's this for?"

"It's the inducer. For the Adipose. It's wired up the whole building...I...I'll need some time," the Doctor paused, running a hand through his big hair.

"Then get to it," Renata made a motion. "I'm not sure if I can distract but...but I can certainly try." The Doctor made a face at the prospect of that idea. "I can to you know," the blonde insisted now more than ever.

"Okay."

Renata bubbled with instant anger. "Listen to me you idiot," she began sharply, "I nearly fell off a window's cradle because of you!"

"Which I will make up for later, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Renata's voice cracked and she took it a sign to calm down. With a sigh, she put a hand on her forehead and took a moment for herself. "Sorry," she said a minute later, truthfully.

"I get it, I do," the Doctor didn't stop his work but gave her an honest face. "You're making an effort and I do see it and appreciate it." Renata lowered her hand from her face and smiled.

Donna silently studied the two aliens in front of her, a bit curious of what they were and just who was Renata overall. Renata crossed gazes with her and realized she had yet to ask something important.

"How do you two know each other?" her finger pointed from Donna to the Doctor.

"I met him on my wedding day - the big starship in the sky at Christmas?" Donna waited for Renata to remember. "That was us."

Renata blinked as something donned. "It was you who drained the Thames!" she turned on the Doctor with an accusing finger. The Master had never clarified the happenings of that evening, but then again she wasn't exactly in the mood to be talking to the Master during that period.

"It was such a crazy day," Donna continued. "In the beginning, I thought he kidnapped me actually," Donna had a small laugh.

"You too!?" Renata incredulously asked of the Doctor. "What, did you throw her over your shoulders too?"

"No, I didn't!" the Doctor defensively said.

Renata huffed. "Well, that's unfair."

"What do you mean?" Donna fit in the pieces together quick. "Did he do that to you?" Renata nodded and gestured being thrown over a shoulder. "Doctor," a great smirk took over Donna's face as her eyes landed on the Doctor, "I didn't know you were that sort of man."

The Doctor looked mortified at her assumption. Renata face palmed. "I meant a thief!" she exclaimed.

"I was not a thief!" the Doctor stopped for a minute to argue. "You-" he pointed a finger at her, "-were being stubborn!"

Renata's eyes blinked rapidly and her mouth parted slightly. "M-me? You're saying it was my fault? What part of 'you threw me over your shoulder and brought me into the TARDIS' did you forget about?" The Doctor said no more but his scrunched face said the words alright.

Donna burst into laughter, making the argument stop. "I'm sorry, but...what?" she couldn't believe what she was hearing honestly. The Doctor had actually slung the poor woman over his shoulder and forced her into the TARDIS? No, hold on, the woman had to be forced in the first place? Who wouldn't want to travel the stars!?

Grumbling, the Doctor returned to work.

"It's really not that funny," Renata crossed her arms and muttered. "Least Martha didn't laugh."

"Martha?" Donna repeated. "Was that a friend at the time?"

"Yeah. My only human friend who I still keep in contact with," Renata thoughtfully said, since Joan was dead and she had left the family in 1959.

"Is she here? In the TARDIS?"

"No," the Doctor said then. "She was brilliant... but... I destroyed half her life."

Renata's annoyance was gone the moment she saw his guilt-ridden face. "You did not," she softly said then looked at the surprised Donna. "Martha decided it was time for her to go back home. But she's fine. She's good."

"Oh," Donna nodded then thought for another moment. "What about Rose?"

"Still lost," the Doctor mumbled, missing Renata purposely looking away. He had yet to tell her anything of Rose and he frankly didn't know when. He actually thought that perhaps Renata would be scandalized to know he had developed an attachment to a human. He was, for a lack of a better word, scared of her reaction.

Renata, on the other hand, thought his lack of explanation arose from the fact she wasn't trusted enough, and that perhaps he didn't see her as a friend at all. By this point, she knew who Rose was. The Master had taken joy rubbing it in her face that the Doctor had exchanged her for a human.

"I thought you were going to travel the world?" the Doctor suddenly remembered it was Donna's grand plan after her failed marriage.

The cheery face on Donna was quick to fade away. "Easier said then done. It's like I had that one day with you and I was gonna change. I was gonna do so much. Then I woke up next morning, same old life. It's like you were never there. And I tried. I did try, I went to Egypt. I was gonna go barefoot and everything. And then it's all bus trips and guidebooks and don't drink the water and two weeks later you're back home. It's nothing like being with you. I must have been mad turning down that offer."

"What offer?" the Doctor failed to recall.

"To come with you." But now Donna was a bit nervous that since Renata seemed to be on board maybe the Doctor was good on companions.

"You didn't want to go into the TARDIS at first?" Renata was a smidge more impressed with the woman. Usually, every human jumped at the chance to get into the TARDIS.

"I didn't understand," Donna tried to explain herself. "I was...I was all emotional...and-and...just…"

Renata swayed her head till she met the Doctor. "I mean...I wouldn't mind, honestly."

The Doctor was surprised to hear such easy acceptance from her. "Really?"

"Yeah, maybe we would bicker less," Renata recalled that was her excuse for when Astrid Peth had asked to come with them. It was true, as much as she loved the Doctor - and boy did she - there were moments where she just needed a break...or at least someone to stop her from strangling him. She was sure that the feeling was mutual.

"Oh yes!" Donna cheered.

'Inducer activated.'

Renata peered into the cupboard to see the green machinery. "What's it doing now?"

"She's started the program," the Doctor groaned.

'Inducer transmitting.'

"And...what does that mean?" Renata now stared wide-eyed at the machinery.

"Up to now the customers have only been losing weight but the Matron has gone up to emergency pathogenesis."

"Oh no." Renata glanced at the end of the corridor where they could see doors. She was sure that outside swarms of little Adipose were going to be gathering real soon pathogenesis.

"That's when they convert…" Donna, too, remembered.

"But that's skeletons, organs, everything!" Renata exclaimed. "A million people are gonna die!"

"Gotta cancel the signal!" the Doctor took out the golden capsule they'd gotten the previous day and pulled one of its end to reveal a chip inside. "This contains the primary signal. If I can switch it off the fat goes back to being just fat." He hooked up the capsule to the machine hoping to God he was right.

'Inducer increasing.'

The Doctor panicked. "No no no no no, she's doubled it, I need... Haven't got time! It's too far, I can't override it! They're all gonna die!"

"Can we do anything?" Renata asked, Donna nodding her head in agreement.

"Sorry, this is way beyond you - and I mean no disrespect but I have to double the base pulse, I can't…"

"Doctor, tell us what do you need," Donna sternly cut him off. Rambling was no good to anyone.

"I need a second capsule to boost the override, but I've only got the one. I can't save them!"

Donna blinked, remembering something very important. She reached inside her pocket to take out a second gold capsule. Renata laughed when the Doctor froze in shock.

"Here!" Donna waved it in front of his face till he snapped out of his stupor. He nabbed it and hooked it into the green machinery, making all its lights shut down.

A couple seconds, a loud horn filled the place.

"What the hell was that?" Donna frantically looked around.

"I suppose it would be...the nursery ship," Renata said.

"But when you say nursery you don't mean a creche in Notting Hill?"

"Nursery ship," Renata repeated.

'Incoming signal.' the machinery had come back to life for a minute and began with a voice that spoke a different language.

"Hadn't we better go and stop them?" Donna made a gesture for them to leave.

"Hang on, instructions from the Adiposian First Family," the Doctor put a finger on his lips to listen in. "She's wired up the tower block to convert it into a levitation post!"

"But now she's the one in trouble," Renata said soon after she heard.

The Doctor didn't waste a chance and hurried back for the roof. Renata and Donna ran after him. When they got up all they saw were blue beams levitating thousands of Adipose babies into the large nursery ship in the sky.

Most of them were smiling and waving at the trio.

"What you gonna do then? Blow them up?" Donna curiously asked the Doctor beside her.

"They're just children," the Doctor made a face for a brief moment. "They can't help where they come from." Besides, something told him that if anyone threatened those children they would come across a raging Time Lady. God help those fools.

"Doctor, there she is!" Renata called as soon as she spotted Foster coming up in one of the blue beams.

The Doctor ran up to the edge with Donna. "Matron Cofelia, listen to me!"

Foster stopped right at their lever. "Oh, I don't think so, Doctor. And if I never see you again, it will be too soon."

"Oh, why does no one ever listen? I'm trying to help! Just get across to the roof. Can you shift the levitation beam?"

"What, so that you can arrest me?" Foster's eyes briefly flickered to Renata.

"No, you're going to want to listen," Renata promised. "Because the families you worked for know that it was a crime to breed on Earth. So what's the one thing they want to get rid of? Their accomplice!"

"I'm far more than that. I'm nanny to all these children."

"Exactly!" the Doctor frantically waved a hand. "Mum and Dad have got the kids now, they don't need the nanny anymore!"

And just then, the blue beam sustaining Foster disappeared and she fell all the way down screaming. Donna hid her face in the Doctor's shoulder and Renata covered her mouth.

Sometime later, when the police arrived to the site, the Doctor and Renata, along with Donna, exited the building. The Doctor chucked the sonic pen into the nearest trash bin.

"Oi, you three!" the journalist the Doctor had thought followed his instructions to go home was coming up to them...tied to a chair again.

"Didn't you let her go?" Renata whispered to the Doctor, blinking rapidly.

"I did," the Doctor defensively replied.

"You're just mad. Do you hear me?" the journalist cried. "Mad! And I'm gonna report you... for madness!"

Donna silently watched the woman leave, barely able to hold her laugh back as she said, "You see, some people just can't take it."

"No," agreed the Doctor.

"But some people can. So, then - TARDIS!" she excitedly said and grabbed the two aliens by the arms, pulling them away.

They headed back to the alleyway where the TARDIS had been left...and apparently Donna's car as well.

"That's my car! That is like destiny!" Donna laughed. "And I've been ready for this." She rushed up to the car's trunk and opened it to reveal a series of suitcases. I packed ages ago, just in case. Cos I thought, hot weather, cold weather, no weather…" she pulled out the top luggage and loaded them into the arms of the Doctor, who was too stunned to say a word at the moment. "...he goes anywhere, I've gotta be prepared." She then loaded more into Renata's arms.

"You've got a... a... hatbox?!" the Doctor found his words after Donna loaded him with one last box.

"Planet of the Hats, I'm ready!" Donna declared and shut the trunk of her car, excitedly heading for the TARDIS. "Do I need injections though, do I? Like when you go to Cambodia, is there any of that? Cos my friend Veena went to Bahrain, and-"

Renata suddenly began to laugh hard, making Donna stop just outside the TARDIS doors. Even the Doctor was oddly staring down at the Time Lady. Donna eyebrows furrowed together, thinking Renata was laughing at her.

"Oi! What's so funny!?"

"This!" Renata motioned with her arms to the luggage and then the situation in general. "You're so funny! I love you!"

The Doctor gaped. "Wow…" he had never seen such a reaction from Renata, so lively and happy…

Renata walked up to the TARDIS, sobering slowly from her laugh. "I like you, I do. Doctor, can we take her?"

"I'm not a dog," Donna made a face. But it did feel better to know Renata wouldn't mind if she came along with them.

"It's really fine with me," the Doctor admitted, staying right where he was. "It's just...it's a funny old life, in the TARDIS."

Donna knew that sort of tone well. It came when one was fired or the casualness from her mother. "You don't want me."

"I'm not saying that-"

"But you asked me," Donna frowned, glancing at Renata for some help.

"Doctor, it really is okay with me," Renata shrugged. "It's your TARDIS. You can bring whoever you want." She wished he would make up his mind faster because Donna's luggage was getting heavier by the second.

"I wouldn't mind either. In fact, I would love it," the Doctor clarified, letting the luggage in his arm drop to the floor. "It's just...the last time, with Martha, it... it got complicated. And that was all my fault. I would want nothing more than a mate-"

"You just want to mate?" Renata blinked, eyes impossibly wide. Beside her, Donna was losing it believing in what Renata heard.

"You're not mating with me, sunshine!" Donna shouted.

The Doctor had a hard time keeping up with both women who'd heard horribly wrong. "Renata! I didn't say that-"

But Renata was trying to control herself after her first outburst. "No, no, that's fine. What you want to do in your TARDIS is your business-"

"What - no!" the Doctor once more tried to cut in but then came Donna.

"He better find someone else cos I'm not into that sort of alien thing, no sir!"

"STOP!" the Doctor finally cut over both of them. "I said a mate! Nothing more!" he frantically waved his hands.

"...oh," Renata looked away, embarrassed yet relieved.

The same applied to Donna. "Well just as well, because I'm not having any of that nonsense. I mean you're just a long streak of... nothing," she motioned to the Doctor who took it with an unamused face. "You know, alien nothing." She then passed a casual glance at Renata and shrugged. "You could probably find yourself someone quick. Kind of curvy."

Renata laughed.

"There we are, then. OK," the Doctor was glad to have things clarified and corrected.

"I can come?" Donna anxiously asked.

"Yeah. Course you can, yeah."

"I'd love it!"

"Great," Renata pushed the TARDIS door open to begin bringing Donna's things.

"Car keys!" Donna suddenly remembered, gasping.

"What?"

"I've still got my mum's car keys! I won't be a minute!" she held a finger to them and ran away.

Renata started to laugh again as she returned. She stopped at the doorway and smiled. "I think I'm gonna like her. She's so...spunky."

"Yeah, she is," the Doctor agreed and left his part of luggage inside.

"And you know," Renata stopped him just outside after he came out, "It really is your TARDIS - even though you stole that too," she mumbled and the Doctor rolled his eyes, "So you can bring anyone in without having to consult me. And...do whatever you want inside."

"Yeah…" the Doctor sucked in a large breath, "...no thanks."

Renata couldn't help the stupid smile that quickly set on her face. She forced it away as best as possible. "I-I mean...it's it's your choice…"

"Renee," the Doctor tilted his head, close to laughing at the subject they were somehow talking about again.

"I'm only saying! I respect rules and...and in here-" Renata gestured to the inside of the TARDIS, "-they're whatever you want-"

"Renee! C'mon," the Doctor laughed. "None of that please. We should focus on the fact we're having a new guest in the TARDIS who I am sure is going to love your dinners."

Renata smiled. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah! Who wouldn't?" the Doctor reached for her hand and brought her inside the TARDIS.

A couple minutes later, Donna came rushing in, happy than ever. "Off we go, then!"

"Here it is, the TARDIS. It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside…"

"Oh, I know that bit," Donna interrupted the Doctor's favorite bit. "Although frankly, you could turn the heat up."

"So, whole wide universe, where do you want to go?"

"Oh, I know exactly the place," Donna smiled widely with just one spot in her mind. "Two and a half miles, that way!" she jerked a thumb to her left.

Although confused, the Doctor and Renata obeyed. It became clear where they were headed when they saw a street lined with similar houses. Donna hurried to the doors, to get them opened. It was almost an instant when she saw her grandfather looking up into the sky through his prized telescope. She waved ecstatically below. Renata and the Doctor waved from behind, although neither was sure if the grandfather would see them. Still, it didn't hurt to be nice.

Afterwards, when all was calm, Renata started for the corridors. "I'm just going to get dinner started. Donna, allergic to anything?"

"N-no…" replied the finger, fairly confused. "Though if it's alien meals then I wouldn't know would I…?"

Renata chuckled. "Fair enough." She disappeared soon after.

Curious, Donna looked to the Doctor who seemed quite at home. "Uh...since when do you do dinners? Last time I asked you disappeared into the night."

The Doctor smiled and looked up from the console after setting them in the time vortex for a peaceful night. "Oh that's just Renata. She does that every night. Sort of our tradition actually."

"Sorry, I never asked...are you and her…?" Donna gave a meaningful tilt of her head.

"No!" the Doctor quickly clarified before word made it to Renata. "No, we're not! Actually," he moved around the console, "Renata is one of my people. She's a Time Lady. Last one."

Donna didn't know what happened to the Doctor's home but she assumed it was not good. It was incredibly good to see that the Doctor was not alone anymore.

[encyclopika]

D for Missing/Missing Out? G, H, I, T, and U?

Hello, Cookie!!! Thanks for sending all these! (This gon’ be long…)

From this Writer’s Ask!

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

OF COURSE THERE IS. You know I can’t help but associate songs with literally everything (even other people’s fics and stuff). So here are all the songs that help/ed me get in the mood to write Missing & Missing Out and even some bonus songs for Missed Chance and Escape Artists! Of course the last one still has songs getting added. I tried not to have doubles, but because there are multiple stories, I figured it was ok. 

Here’s the link, hope it works: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1hKhm89LSxb8rGtAYvqcOV

Missed Chance23 - Jimmy Eat WorldMissingFaster - Within TemptationThe Alarming Sound of a Still Small Voice - SaosinToo Good to Be - New Found GloryI Get It - ChevelleUnbreakable - FireflightGreat Love - Flyleaf (this is def. the main song for the fic)Empty With You - The UsedThe Unwinding Cable Car - AnberlinMissing OutHero/Heroine - Boys Like Girls (main one, and holy shit the lyrics)Broken Wings - FlyleafSwimming Home - Evanescence Never Be the Same - Red 

Escape ArtistsSo Contagious - AcceptanceWhat If - SafetysuitMake a Move - Icon for HireNote to Self - From First to LastTime After Time - Quietdrive (this one might be a whole series one, but I haven’t decided!)Lost in Paradise - EvanescenceMercy Mirror - Within Temptation (main one for this fic)

*Remember, some of the songs are for other characters and villains!**Oh no you guys know the kind of stuff I listen to now!

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I write from start to finish. I just…MUST do it in order, and I think sometimes it’s what trips me up sometimes. Because if I’m in a transition part or a part I’m not as excited about, then sometimes it drags. But if I don’t do it in order, then I will trick myself into thinking what happens before is done already and then I REALLY won’t do it. *sigh* You already know I’m a very finicky writer…

H: How would you describe your style?

Oh, haha, I guess, when Krow’s not writing, my style is poetic, emotional, and dark. I’m overly concerned with flow and feeling, sure do love those descriptive adjectives and adverbs, and I break out the metaphors out of left field. Foreshadowing and symbolism is my JAM. As for WHAT I write, I know I write some pretty dark stuff. I’m not afraid to get dirty in the death department, delve into a bit of horror, and tell it like it is. 

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

Yes. Well, I know that I do now after conversing about it in the Discord. I like Love Triangles, but like…not in the traditional sense. For some ungodly reason, I like an established ship becoming challenged by a catalyst (aka a third wheel who never had a chance anyway and no one roots for them). It’s just…the drama that comes out of it is great to me? Like, if the main ship is not already together, a catalyst drags out the jealousy of a party, and if they are together, it makes them get closer, or work on someone’s insecurities. And like, the ship pair eventually proves their love can’t be broken by this bullshit. And I have no idea why I like this and it’s embarrassing! LMAO

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?  

Plenty. I’m typically not a fan of AUs in general, but I will give them a shot if they’re A) written by someone I trust to write great stuff or B) recommended by someone I trust knows good fic when they read it. Things I won’t touch, though, are anything like a re-telling or crossovers. I just don’t get the point of the first one and usually I’m not into one or more of the other fandoms in a crossover. Hell, I won’t even read a crossover for two beloved fandoms. Dad for One, Bakugo generally being treated like a villain, and anyone OOC with a “Purpose” are just things I don’t like. Especially OOCs in an AU it’s like…shit dude, just write original stuff at that point! U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Oof, no fair! For the record I absolutely adore the writing of all our friends in Discord and you Cookie - everyone has a wonderful style that is uniquely them and I find I like most anything they come out with. We are so blessed to have so many talented writers!

IgnitingWriting - I count myself very lucky that my first tastes of Izuocha fanfiction was from IgnitingWriting. I love pretty much their whole collection which boasts a number of genres. I really think that Igniting could do anything and I always loved their ideas. They haven’t posted anything in a year, but, that’s really fine! I still go back to enjoy their work from time to time.

Ohmytheon - I mean, what’s there to say. This person is a professional writer. Everything they come out with, including the massive, beautifully dark ‘Heroes of the Dark” is a goddamn masterpiece. Reading HotD makes me just as exhausted and miserable as the characters, to the point where I need to take a literal break between reading…and that’s saying something, since I rarely react to things.

@savetheirhearts-midoriya / DaniDeservedBetter - Dani made me love an AU which is really saying something! I love Golden in the Gilded Age and I love All That Remains…I feel like, if you didn’t know any better, you would say those fics are written by two different people. The words Dani uses to build her worlds is so unique to each story and keeps it all so fresh. Makes me feel like a one trick pony lmao. 

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth Pt. 10

Truth Master List

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: SMUT, no... really this is 95% smut. If that’s not your thing you can totally skip this or just read the last few paragraphs. 18+ y’all. Sorry bout it.

A/N: So I didn’t really intend for this to be what it is BUT I started writing and it just became lengthy intimate smut. I’ve said it before smut makes me nervous. I’m very open to feedback so please tell me what you think. (Also, I personally just don’t talk a lot during sex so I’m not one to write a lot of dialogue into my sex scenes. Ugh. Smut is weird for meee.)

I will say I had fun writing it so that’s good right?

Tags are open!

@midnightdream83 @mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415  @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4  @piensa-bonito @handplucked  @buckysstar  @sam-jae  @marauder–harder @for-the-love-of-the-fandom   @meg-asaur @jewelofwinter @fairislesheets @animegirlgeeky @lydklein1 @katecolleen @siriuslycloudy2 @zannemes 

Cool metal fingers stroking your temple and warm flesh ones gently rubbing circles on your lower back wake you slowly. You open your eyes to see his soft expression. His lids at half mast, the corners of his lips barely turned up, all lit by a predawn sky.

Your heart stutters in your chest. Was he always this beautiful? Did you just miss it? A whole year wasted projecting your anger and hate and fear on him when you could have had this. The regret of wasted time is a familiar feeling and one you’d rather not focus on right now.

Cutting off that train of thought you press your lips to his. The fingers at your temple reach back and tangle in your hair as his tongue finds its way into your mouth. You welcome the taste of him, pressing your body close. He’s already hard as your hand slides over the front of his sweat pants.

You rub the length of him through his clothes. Bucky pulls away trailing kisses down your neck, groaning at your touch. The sound sends tremors through your body as his fingers slide further up, under the hoodie setting your nerves on fire in the best way.

As his right-hand catches your left nipple you roll to your back, reveling in the sensation. Tenderly he kisses you before lifting the hem of the hoodie to press sweet kisses to your abdomen. He inches his mouth up bit by bit, the hoodie moving up with him until he coaxes it over your head leaving you exposed.

This is different than before, even different than sleeping nude together yesterday. Now, you’re fully present, awake, in tune with every expression passing over his face, acutely aware of every insecurity you have. Your hands move to cover scars from battles, stretch marks, the way a week's worth of malnutrition left some parts of you less… pert than you’d prefer.

It doesn’t click that you’ve closed your eyes until you feel his hands over your own. His touch gentle but firm, moving your hands away. As your eyes open his lips press into your palms before he places your hands on his chest. One over the scars reaching from his left shoulder the other over a particularly large one over his right rib cage.

Tears burn your eyes. His wordless statement settling warm in your heart. So many scars between the two of you. Countless imperfections both visible and not. And yet…

“You’re beautiful, Bucky,” your voice a breathy whisper, not willing to disturb the quiet magic burning between you. Slowly you trace the scars, learning his unique topography, determined to commit it to memory. His eyes, soft grey in the golden light look down at you. Hands run lightly down your arms making goosebumps rise.

Sitting up onto your knees you replace your wandering fingers with your lips, determined to take away the hurt of each mark thoughtlessly left on his flesh. He doesn’t move as you scoot behind him, touching and kissing the scars from his arm and ones from old injuries. You can feel him tremble beneath your touch. His breath catching, heart thundering.

At his neck, you breathe in the smell of his hair, the spice of his skin. “Y/N,” he breathes out as your teeth graze the spot where his neck and shoulder meet. He turns, left hand pulling your face to his own. His kiss is rough, your teeth clashing a touch, both hungry for the other.

Your chest is pressed flush against his back, hands trailing down the front of him until your fingers catch the band of his sweat pants. You pull them and his boxers down just enough to free his cock.

As your hand wraps around his shaft, the other running over his balls, he moans into your mouth his hips thrusting forward a touch. Already you can feel your own arousal, hot and wet. Only a few strokes in he grabs your wrist, pulling it away from him and spins to face you.

His mouth is on yours, hands on your shoulders pressing you back down into the nest of blankets and pillows. When his fingers slip into your own boxers, sliding over your clit and dipping briefly into you, you cry out against his kiss. A smirk curls his lips as he brings his hand away, rising up to pull the boxers down your legs.

Quickly he frees himself too and hovers over you. His thumbs stroke your forehead, eyes staring intently into your own. You wrap your legs around his hips and he slowly lowers himself into you.

You moan, back arching pressing him closer, savoring the ache as your body stretches around him. Then you both still. For a few moments… or maybe forever… time didn’t seem to exist here in this room… you allow yourselves to just feel this. The connection, being as close as two people can be. In all honesty, you could stay like this until the end of your long days, grounded by his presence in and around you.

Both of you seem to have the same thought and your foreheads crash together as you both go in for a kiss. Belly laughs shake your bodies, smiles illuminating your kisses to come as he moves steadily inside you.

Bucky sits up, pulling your leg onto his shoulder, pressing deeper into you. His thumb strokes your clit and you can feel yourself light up, literally and figuratively. A look of fascination fills his face. You swallow your nerves, your questions, your fear. Instead, you force your mind to only feel him. His lips make a path up your calf, stubble tickling, as he continues that incendiary motion, his hard cock at just the right spot.

“Bucky,” you manage between gasps.

“Show me those stars, baby,” the look on his face says something else. That it’s ok, you’re safe, he’s safe, he trusts you.

Covering your mouth to muffle the wild cry you come so hard for a second there’s only pleasure, sweet and hot threading through every fiber of your being. It’s like your floating. A soft sweet laugh from Bucky brings you back to earth. Your eyes open, lids heavy, before bursting wide. Gossamer filaments of light are floating up from you, tiny pulsing points at the end of each one.

Eyes wide with wonder he reaches out to touch the fading bits of energy, you gasp, amazed you can actually feel where he comes in contact with them. You’d be horrified but nothing is on fire and he’s looking at you like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

He lowers himself back and you run your fingers through his thick hair, tugging just a touch. A purr of satisfaction rumbles in his throat and his lips meet yours. You nip at his lower lip and he slams into you.

“Fuck,” you groan into his neck holding him tight against you.

“Y/N,” he moans as he fucks you faster, arms wrapped around your back, cupping the back of your head.

You begin kissing his neck. Sucking, nibbling, biting. Each action eliciting a tantalizing groan or growl from him. Your nails run down from his shoulders to the dip of his lower back causing his whole body to shake.

“Oh god, baby,” his voice is a rumble against your ear. He catches your earlobe in his teeth and you gasp, matching his hard pace, your hips thrusting up wanting all of him now.

His arms unwind from around you. Reaching back he pulls yours down from his back, pinning them to your sides. You feel desire coil tightly in the base of your abdomen. Hungry eyes and full smirking lips look up from a veil of dark hair.

The pace of his hips ticks up, both your breath ragged as you hold the others gaze. His brows knit, bottom lip caught in his teeth. Your body arches up, arms flex against the steel grip of his hands.

You’re about to topple over the edge when he releases your arms, pulls your face to his and kisses you. Teeth and tongues and swollen lips crash together, wet and hungry. A few more thrusts and together you cry out, shaking bodies pressed close, the taste of his mouth and the salt of his sweat the most incredible combination.

Panting he falls to the side, collapsing on his back. You roll to your side and stare awestruck at him. His chest heaves, sweat glistening through the dark hair sprinkled over his torso. Thick thighs tremble, cock twitching just a bit.

“You’re fucking incredible you know?” He sounds drowsy, his right arm tucked under his head.

[Bucky]

You look at him, your hair tumbling over your shoulder, and those fascinating sparkling eyes stare disbelieving at him. How could anyone with eyes like that doubt what they could do to a person. Being with you was like magic.

He wants your lips again but his body is too tired to move. “Kiss me,” he sighs.

Somehow desire explodes in his chest the moment your tongue flits between his teeth. You were the only person he’d been with since he was… well himself again. Maybe he’s just making up for lost time.

“You’re not so bad either, old man,” you say lifting up, the ends of your hair tickling his face and neck.

He laughs, his fingers lazily stroking down your back. Your eyes flutter for a second before a mischievous grin fills your face. Without a word, you slide down between his legs and before he can say anything you take him in your mouth.

“Fuck!” The word bursts from him. His breath stutters and his hips thrust up. You pin them down with strong hands, your sparkler eyes looking up at him. It’s almost too much, he’s almost too sensitive, but he’d rather die than ask you to stop.

Groaning he runs a finger over your cheekbone, mesmerized at the image of your beautiful mouth on him. You drag your nails down his hip bones leaving quickly fading red streaks. If he let himself he could come like this, and soon. He’s got a better idea.

“Stop,” you do immediately and he stands. You stare up at him as you wipe moisture from your mouth. Christ, how could something so simple be so enticing? He extends a hand and you take it.

He pulls you up quickly. Grabbing your hips he lifts you. Automatically you wrap your legs around him, a smile filling your face. He plants kisses down your neck, loving the taste of your skin. You giggle at the tickle of his stubble. The joyful sound makes him hum with pleasure.

Holding you with his left hand he opens the door and carries you from the soft cocoon you both had been in for almost 24 hours and to the bathroom.

You slip from his grip as he reaches into the oversized shower, starting the water all three heads on, and steam, the heat instant. Stepping in he holds out his hand, you take it and follow him inside.

Immediately you lean back into the stream of water, soaking your thick hair, rivulets running down your body. His cock jumps and he swallows hard. You catch his rather slack-jawed expression and laugh a quick ringing sound that makes his heart soar.

Shaking his head he laughs too, pulling your wet body close to him, his cock throbbing against you. You begin to kiss his chest, nipping at his collarbones. The feeling shoots through his whole body.

Patience flees him. He spins you around, thumbs pressing the dimples in your low back. His tongue traces your spine causing a small moan to slip from your lips. You lean forward just a touch, lifting to your toes and he dips down, sliding his cock into you.

Your cry almost undoes him. Willing the muscles in his abdomen to relax he reaches his left hand around you pressing you closer into him, your back arching, head lolling onto his shoulder. The water on your lashes catches the light in your eyes and once more he’s dumbstruck at how spectacular you are, thankful you thought he was worthy of this intimacy.

He slides his hand down lower. When his metal fingers caress your clit you gasp, he almost stops until you hold his wrist in place.

“Bucky,” you moan, grinding against his fingers. He can’t help but smile. He’d been so unsure of touching you with his left hand but obviously, he’d been worried over nothing. Your jaw hangs open a touch and he fills your mouth with his kiss as you tighten around him.

It doesn’t take long for either of you. He strokes you while his right-hand steadies you fucking you slowly. As soon as you cry out he allows himself to release the tension in his body. Shuddering, he comes, moaning into the curve of your neck.

You turn to face him, moving wet strands of hair from his face and kiss him so tenderly, with so much care, it’s almost enough to make him cry. Would he ever be used to your tender hands?

“That was fucking amazing,” you grab his left hand placing kisses on his metal knuckles.

“It was,” he sighs out.

You both dry off and he lends you some fresh clothes to change into. Still loving the way you look in his shirt for some reason he can’t quite make sense of.

“I definitely need to go to my place,” you shimmy the sweats over your hips. “Can’t keep stealing your clothes.”

He shrugs, eyeing the curve of your ass under the knit fabric, “I mean… I don’t mind.”

You notice him gawking. With a laugh you tease, “Haven’t you had enough of me yet?”

“Darling,” he pulls you to the place he’s sitting on the bed, “I don’t know I’ll even have enough.” You look genuinely shocked and he makes a mental note that he’s gonna make sure you know just how much he wants you, every damn day… until you get sick of him.

“Why don’t we head up there now?” He asks a shadow flits over your face, “I already said I’d help you reorder the place.”

You sigh, “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”

The way you were acting he was expecting something far worse than food containers and undone dishes. He laughs a little as he looks around.

“I know it’s terrible, don’t judge.”

“Doll, this is nothing. I think you’re being a little harsh on yourself.”

You shrug, “Let me change and we can take on this shit,” you fling your hands around to indicate the whole apartment. He shakes his head at you.

While you change he starts to load the dishwasher. After about 15 minutes he’s almost done, about to hand wash the pieces that won't fit when he starts to worry. Turning the sink off he dries his hands and listens. In the silence he barely catches the sound of you sniffling from your room. He gently raps at the door, it’s not closed fully and swings open.

You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed surrounded by photos, tapes, posters, magazines. You look up at him and frantically wipe tears from your face.

“Sorry,” you begin to pick the photos up as he picks his way over the scattered clothing on the floor. “I just… I forgot I had this stuff out. I was trying to find something to… I don’t know ground myself and-” Your voice is gaining in speed, tone shaky.

He stills your hands with his. Your eyes meet his, tears sneaking down your cheeks. He wipes them away.

“You keep your memories displayed… I shove mine in a box under my bed…”

[mfackenthal]

Hello loves!  If you’re still following me, may I just say thank you for your patience.  I know it has been too long since I have created one of my review posts.  I can only apologize.  I love you all, but I needed a break.  So I was gone for a while.  When I came back – the fandom had changed.  Mostly, people just changed their names, actually.  But it took me a while to find everyone.  And, of course, new people had joined the fandom – or at least I was introduced to people – so they’re new to me.  

I’m going to organize this by book instead of by love interest because some authors are keeping the pairings a secret and I don’t want to ruin their surprise.

I don’t think I’m back up to reading 80 fics a week … but I do think I’ve read quite a few (too many?) fics this week.  Let’s find out how many, shall we?

A few quick reminders:

(1) If you want to find out what I specifically thought about each chapter, that can be found on my blog.  To more easily search my blog, search the phrase “mfackenthal reviews ________” and fill in the blank with the blog name.  IE “mfackenthal reviews maxattack-powell” to find the work I reblogged specifically by @maxattack-powell.

(2) In case it’s not obvious: I recommend ALL of these fics and ALL of these authors.  I cannot say enough about the fabulousness that is these authors. 

The Royal Romance

Second Wedding (http://mrswalkers-blog.tumblr.com/post/182240871361/book-the-royal-romance-summary-riley-looks) by @mrswalkers-blog Riley is about to walk down the aisle for a second time.  How did she get here?  This short story will help you reflect on your own relationships while warming you heart.

The Road Less Traveled (https://ao719.tumblr.com/post/182583348931/the-road-less-traveled-masterlist-summary-6) by @ao719 This delightful series will also warm you heart with its innocence and anticipation.  It’s made even more delightful by the fact that you get a chapter every day. 

Queen of My Heart (https://walkerismychoice.tumblr.com/post/173032059318/queen-of-my-heart-master-list) by @walkerismychoice This is not a new series by any means – but it’s not over either.  I got caught up because it’s an amazing series and I love it!  If you don’t know it already, this is a retelling of the story that has captured our heart but in a universe in which Liam is making his decision on reality TV.  Madeleine is still the villain and she’s about to get her comeuppance – or so I hope!  Catch up and see what happens next with me!

The Not So Royal Romance series (https://strangerofbraidwood.tumblr.com/post/182742931095/the-not-so-royal-romance-collection) by @strangerofbraidwood  What happens with Olivia and Hana after the events of the story as we know it?  Find out in this intriguing series.

 Something Unexpected (https://hopefulmoonobject.tumblr.com/post/182769220258/something-unexpected) series by @hopefulmoonobject This series follows Liam and Leo as they have fallen in love with two foreigners who don’t yet know they are dating the most powerful men in all of Cordonia.  Will this end in true love?  Or with the “lies by omission” become a problem?  I honestly don’t know yet and can’t wait to find out!  When these couples are romantic – they’re adorable. When they’re feisty, I love that too!

One Handsome Devil (https://onehandsomedevil-trr.tumblr.com/post/182558278027/one-handsome-devil-a-novel-by-katherine) by @onehandsomedevil-trr  Liam is named Nicholas in this series that is starting to hint at more turmoil to come – with Olivia.

Secrets Unwind (https://whenyourheartskipsabeat.tumblr.com/post/182550912733/the-royal-romance) by @whenyourheartskipsabeat  Liam lost Riley.  He has found her.  Everything seems to be falling in to place.  We know it won’t last – but the ride is exquisite!  Come join me in reading this series!

Learning to Love Again (https://likethetailofacomet.tumblr.com/post/178641518985/master-list) by @likethetailofacomet  If you follow me then you know that I binged this whole series this week.  That’s right – all 46 chapters of it!  This series GAVE ME LIFE!  It’s a beautiful telling of the story of Drake, Liam, and Claire (MC) where Liam is immediately supportive of Drake and Claire – like supportive before Drake can even really make a move. The characters in this story are pure, beautiful, supportive, strong, and loving.  I have fallen in love with Liam and with Bastien in this story – and I know with certainty that this wasn’t the author’s intention – but I also know she fully supports falling in love with these characters.  Of course, if you’re a Drake fan (as I am) this series will make you happy also.  It’s not a love triangle and yet I still felt so much of that drama that I love in these stories. This series is drama at it’s BEST.  The drama doesn’t come from misunderstandings but from the plot. It’s not over – but it will be soon.  So catch up!

Going deep into the ruins of Bastien and Annabelle (https://likethetailofacomet.tumblr.com/post/178641518985/master-list) by @likethetailofacomet  A little of how Bastien met the love of his life, Annabelle.  Come meet the woman who captures Bastien’s heart.

My Girl (https://tmarie82.tumblr.com/post/182792805128/pairing-drake-x-mc-emma-warner-walker-book-the) by @tmarie82  Drake and Emma are married, with children, and celebrating Valentine’s Day.  Sit back and enjoy some cuteness in this fluffy fic.

One Night Stand (https://kennaxval.tumblr.com/post/182792808423/one-night-stand-olivia-x-drake-nsfw) by @kennaxval  Olivia puts Drake in his place, saves Drake and others from a car accident, and gets a little something from Drake in the process.  As it turns out, Drake is a lucky guy.

Their First Valentine’s (Part 1) (https://drakewalkerwhipped.tumblr.com/post/182818195966/their-first-valentines-part-1-drake-x-mc-x) by @drakewalkerwhipped  If you haven’t met everyone’s favorite poly couple – you really should look them up as written by @drakewalkerwhipped.  This trio is so supportive of each other, so loving, so tender.  I call them #relationshipgoals.  It’s their first Valentine’s Day where they’re not in hiding and they’ve essentially got the kinks worked out.  This chapter is essentially fluff with a little heat – promising much more heat in whatever comes next.

Brave For You (series) (https://likethetailofacomet.tumblr.com/post/178641518985/master-list) by @likethetailofacomet As I understand it, this was written and helped inspire Learning to Love Again because fans demanded a story where Drake lives.  In this trilogy, Drake does not.  Riley has to learn to live without him.  

Perfect Match

Missing You (https://queerchoicesblog.tumblr.com/post/182657763715/missing-you-pm-alana-x-fmc) by @queerchoicesblog  Long distance relationships are hard, but sometimes the little things you do in such a relationship have deep meaning.  Read about how Alana might be in such a relationship.

The Elementalists

When I Taste Tequila (https://walkerismychoice.tumblr.com/post/182626500588/when-i-taste-tequila) by @walkerismychoice  A delightful A/U with Beckett.  His nerdiness shines and gets our MC to drop her defenses.  Kissing ensues and leaves you wanting more.  If you like The Elementalists and you like Gray’s Anatomy – you should read this fic.

Complicated Series (https://darley1101.tumblr.com/post/182575228193/complicated-part-3-it-couple) by @darley1101  In this series, Beckett and Tatiana (MC) start “dating” (quotes are important).  They date for show. But will they fall in love for real?  This series has a great story crossover, it delves into some difficult situations around bullying, and we’ve just learned that Beckett also has a “real girlfriend.”  I need more @darley1101!!!!  Quit writing the rest and give me more of this ;) 

A Courtesan in Rome

The Words that Went Unsaid (https://wughhumans.tumblr.com/post/182673414478/the-words-that-went-unsaid-marc-antony-x-mc) by @wughhumans  Anthony has enemies and that has disastrous consequences.  I don’t want to say more as it will give it away … so I’ll just say it’s not a fluffy read but it’s worth it and I can’t wait for more!

Warrior (https://tmarie82.tumblr.com/post/182744621008/pairing-mystery-pairing-mc-arin-book-a) by @tmarie82  A dark fic that gave us what many of us really wanted …

The Death of a Monster (https://wughhumans.tumblr.com/post/182774319428/the-death-of-a-monster-lysandra) by @wughhumans  Obviously, many people would like to see Legate Aquila die.  Here’s another fic to show how that could happen.  This one is even darker, more graphic, but amazingly well written!

The Heist: Monaco

Stress (https://mysteli.tumblr.com/post/182707625378/stress-fabien-x-mc) by @mysteli  A bit of an AU – but really just an extension of the story – if the MC took a little break from the masquerade party to join Fabien in the getaway car.  Learn a little more about Fabien in this hot fic!

America’s Most Eligible

Bad As Me (http://choicesfanfic.com/content/bad-as-me/) by @lizeboredom  I’m still shook by the fact that the MC in this story is not named Minah.  They’re all supposed to be named Minah!  (If you don’t know what I mean – read ALL of @lizeboredom’s work!) Despite the author being drunk when she wrote this fic and named her character the wrong name – this is a hot story about a much tougher Minah (Myrah) who is flirting with danger when she flirts with Vince.

Desire and Decorum

Only the First of Many (https://walkerismychoice.tumblr.com/post/182799720138/only-the-first-of-many-ernest-sinclaire-x-mc) by @walkerismychoice  As the author says – this is a retelling of the diamond scene from book 2 chapter 9 but from Ernest’s POV.  This is a sweet, hot, tender, and a beautiful rendition.  If you didn’t buy that chapter – this is a great way to read it. If you did – this is an even better way to relive it.

Red Carpet Diaries

Simply Between Us Series (http://angstymarshmallow.tumblr.com/post/182229096884/simply-between-us-part-6-thomas-hunt-x-mc) by @angstymarshmallow  Hunt and Tatum are just about to say “I love you” when Priya storms back in to Hunt’s life.  Is he truly over her?  What will Hunt do when he’s not the most mature one in his relationship with Tatum?  Come read this beautiful written story of love, heart ache, angst, poor decisions, traffic, and (I hope) love conquering all! 

Bloodbound

Against the Rules (http://choicesbyjade.tumblr.com/post/178304360927/bloodbound-fanfiction) by @choicesbyjade  Adrian is flirting with his own rules.  This drives both Samantha (MC) and himself to some sexual acts.  Will there be consequences?  Read to find out!

Artwork Drake by @maxattack-powell

https://maxattack-powell.tumblr.com/post/182780797714/he-wanted-to-surprise-you-when-you-woke-up-did

Adrian by @maxattack-powell

https://maxattack-powell.tumblr.com/post/182815538556/he-says-youre-all-the-sunshine-he-needs

Oh shit!  I read 89 fics this week!  Granted 46 of them were one series, but I still!  I commented and reblogged 89 fics.  I guess I have to say – I’m back baby!

But seriously – I probably will not be able to maintain this pace.  I have to actually read a book next week.  LOL 

Also, this time around if I read a series – I didn’t include a link to each chapter – I included a link to a masterlist.  I included the masterlist link as often as I could.  If I couldn’t find one, I linked to the last chapter.

I hope you found something you hadn’t read yet.  This community is amazingly talented. 

If you know someone I should be reading – send them my way!  I’m always looking for new authors to highlight while I continue to read everyone I’ve already learned to love.  I’m still behind and catching up with many who I have highlighted in the past – but hit me up if there is something you want me to read ASAP.

So much love to all of you!

~MFack~

PS. Even though she’s not here anymore, big thanks to @drivenbyfantasy for creating the graphic.  

PPS. Last, but not least, on the off chance that I missed a fic that you know I reblogged, my apologies! It was unintentional and is not a reflection on you, but upon my inability to maintain my own blog.  Also, if a link or a tag doesn’t work - I am sorry!

[mikeshanlon]

he’s all that: chapter one

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 3.8k

on ao3

summary: 

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

---

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can't even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners. 

a/n: hello!!! hope you enjoy this fic, i will try to update it at least every other sunday (i'll figure out the exact number of chapters before i post chapter two, but it probably won't be more than 10). you don't need to have watched she's all that to get this, although there will be some small easter eggs/quotes from the movie. but the movie has not aged well and is very Heteronormative so like.... no need to watch it lmao. 

Senior year— it was what just about any kid in the public schooling system looked forward to. You were high school royalty, enjoying the last hurrah with booze and dancing before being sent off to make your mark on the world. Lanky limbs that weren’t yet grown into became muscled and toned, hips were wider and swayed. Brains were wiser, skin was touched more, and smiles were brighter. It was a time of transformation and change.

Except, senior year was almost over, and Richie Tozier felt like he hadn’t really changed at all. Sure, in the last four years he shot up to 6’2, his voice was deeper, and he wasn’t such a fucking outcast; but really nothing else felt different. He still only passed his classes on genius alone, had a problem respecting authority figures (partially due to the fact that his parents were still pieces of shit), and never knew when to shut the fuck up.

Derry, Maine itself stayed the same too, like a town in a snow globe encased with mom-and-pop businesses and ignorance. Other than iPhones, the small Starbucks on the corner of Main and Belmont, and the fact that the townspeople were slightly less homophobic and racist (slightly being the operative word); Derry was pretty much a time capsule for banana bikes, bullies, and double features with popcorn that had too much salt and not enough butter.

Take the cliques and social hierarchy-- a staple in any American high school, especially one in a small town. Despite it being the 21st century, the cafeteria still had tables for jocks, geeks, nerds, and preps, straight from some 80’s or 90’s teen flick.

Richie, like most things in his life, didn’t necessarily fit into one group or the other, toeing the line between social pariah and popular party dude. He supposed it was the side effects of being the class clown with too-big-for-his-face glasses, a diagnosis for ADHD, and his tendency blazing at any given moment. Funny and wild enough to show up to any party, but not exactly cool enough to hang out with for anything else.

Honestly, it didn’t matter either way, because instead of worrying about what table to eat the cafeteria’s barely edible food at, Richie usually spent his lunch smoking with his friends. It was time to catch up and unwind before the last few classes of the day— and there was no way he could get through chemistry without being high.

As soon as the shrill bell rang, Richie hopped out of his seat, grabbing his shit before placing his (probably failed) history quiz on the teacher’s desk on his way out into the halls.

He weaved through the couples sucking face and the worried AP students, his unruly black curls bouncing like a hyperactive halo around his head as he walked towards his locker.

“‘Sup Tozier!” someone called out to him, a familiar face at the weekend ragers, although he never learned his actual name.

Richie nodded, “Hey, what’s up Keg King?”

“Not much. Hey, you coming to see me defend my title this weekend?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Richie smiled lazily, patting the other boy on the back before strolling along.

It wasn’t a coincidence that his smile faltered as he passed what was left of the Bower’s gang. He and Hockstetter had graduated the year prior, although like most bumfuck racists hellbent on beating up ‘dorks and queers’, they stayed in Derry. The remaining two, Belch and Victor Criss, weren’t nearly as powerful or psychotic as their elders, but they had a reputation to uphold. They weren’t exactly slamming him down on the asphalt in front of the arcade like they did in middle school, but they weren’t friendly either. Mutual respect was even a stretch. He’d enjoy seeing them get their asses handed to them, and he was sure they felt the same.

Richie popped open his locker, catching the loose papers and pencils that inevitably fell out. A small mirror hung on the blue metal door, rendered practically useless because of all the smudges covering it. The remaining space was littered with stickers of indie bands, and post-its with doodles and notes to himself or from his friends.

Have a great day trashmouth <3- bevs

Sparknotes ‘Pygmalion’

Come to the quarry after school!-mike

It’s a good day to be gay

Next time u get drunk enough 2 facetime us reading the entire bee movie script pls invite us so we dont have 2 deal w/ that sober- b+m

Buy more cigs and weed

U lewk hott big sexxxi ;) - xoxo

Richie was unashamed to say he wrote the last one to himself one day when he looked particularly good.

He struggled to stuff his history folder into the looming mess, but eventually crammed it in there, slamming the door shut before anything else could fall out.

After checking that he did indeed have his lighter, bag of weed, and papers in his denim jacket, Richie made his way to their usual spot. They liked to smoke at the stairs behind the art room, which was tucked away in the back of the school, overlooking the field that separated them and the middle schoolers.

Throwing open the orange door to the stairs in his usual dramatic fashion, he found his two closest friends, “Ms. Marsh, Lord Michael, how fare thee chaps today?” Richie greeted in his (awful) british accent.

Beverly Marsh rolled her eyes as she lit her joint, “Fine, until I heard that horrible voice.”

Richie threw a hand on his chest, a pained expression painted on his face, “Oh, how you hurt me so.”

“Hey, I mean it is his best impression,” Mike Hanlon commented from the steps, fist bumping Richie as he sat down across from Beverly on the top of the stairs, back to the railing. The sweet boy lit up the bowl in his pipe, inhaling deeply.

“Aw, thank you Mikey, you sure know how to make a girl swoon,” he cooed, mimicking a southern belle.

“Well, you don’t really have any good one’s in the first place,” Mike smirked, blowing out the smoke in his mouth while Beverly snorted, taking another drag.

Richie rolled his eyes, taking out his bag of weed, “Fuck off Hanlon.”

Mike extended an olive branch in the form of paper lunch bag filled with a sandwich, chips, and a can of coke. It was a daily occurrence for them— the Tozier’s rarely had any food, and even if Richie wanted to eat from the cafeteria, he didn’t exactly get a lot of money from them.

“My upcoming munchies thank you dear friend.”

He opened his bag of weed, attempting to balance the paper on his knees so he could roll his own joint. This failed miserably as the weed fell out, getting all over his Radiohead t-shirt.

“Shit.”

Beverly sighed, holding out her hand, “Let me roll it Tozier, you and I both know I’m better at it anyways.”

“What?! I’m perfectly capable of doing it by myself. I roll a damn good joint Marsh,” he shot back incredulously.

She plucked a stray piece of weed and gave him a pointed look. Richie groaned before handing his stuff over, Beverly handing him her own joint to smoke on in the meantime.

“How’s your day been Rich?” Mike asked from his spot on the steps. Typical farm boy, concerned with his friends. Richie often wondered how such an angelic person hung out with him and Bev, but Mike had his fair share of rebellious traits.

“Ah, well, you can tell it’s been just dandy. I can’t wait till we get out of this fucking hell hole,” Richie scoffed before taking a hit.

“Only seven more weeks,” Beverly reminded, eyes and hands focused on rolling.

Mike nodded, “Crazy. Can’t believe we’re finally graduating.”

“Thank fucking god, Derry is a suffocating shithole,” he said, “I know I’m an idiot, but Jesus, everyone here is a fucking bigot.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, not saying much else. They understood. It was hard being one of the only black kids in school, let alone pansexual (although most people didn’t know this about him). The prejudice he faced wasn’t something he often spoke about, trying to be as positive as possible.

“This kid in english was saying bisexuals are sluts today,” Richie successfully blew a few smoke rings, “Like, I am one, but not because of my sexuality, asswipe.”

Bev laughed humorlessly, handing Richie the freshly rolled joint and taking back her own, “No need to tell me what that’s like.”

No, the redhead had been getting called a slut over nothing since the seventh grade; the rumors and shaming only getting worse when she too came out as bi.

A comfortable and reflective silence fell over the three, occupied with their thoughts and getting high. Richie placed the joint in between his chapped lips; struggling to light the tip as his white lighter sputtered, on it’s last moments of life. Mumbled expletives fell out of his mouth before he was successful, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in before letting it all escape.

His dark brown eyes scanned the poorly maintained sports field, filled mostly with middle schoolers running around and yelling. Part of him envied the carefree nature of it all, but the other remembered how fucking shitty middle school was and any jealousy washed away.

Not too far from them was what was dubbed as ‘the kissing tree’. The old trunk was littered with carvings, initials surrounded by hearts claiming that their love was ‘forever’. It was juvenile, small town as fuck, and heteronormative— though most things surrounding romance in Derry were.

Of course, Richie had been obsessed with it as a preteen, and knew his own name was on there (a few times).

What caught his eye now were the couple under it, making out passionately, flush against one another, like if they stopped they’d die.

Honestly, that would be preferable, as one of them was Gretta Keene, one of Richie’s biggest mistakes.

Gretta was one of the most popular girls in school, and she was also a grade A bitch. Her green eyes sent glares akin to daggers, and her lipgloss covered lips provided insults that went too far. Including frequently calling Beverly a slut.

It wasn’t like Richie had a huge crush on her or anything. Their relationship was merely born from constantly being at the same parties, cross faded and wanting a quick hook up to distract themselves. Mike had commented that it was only a matter of time, except one became many more, despite the fact that Gretta only got with jocks.

Their arrangement caused Bev to freeze Richie out for two months last semester, breaking their four year streak for best couples costume at Betty Ripsom’s annual Halloween Party. Bev was more important to him by a long shot, but per usual, he kept fucking everything up.

Most of their ‘moments’ were shared in some stranger's bed, or dancing in a kitschy living room to pop music, sharing a blunt or swigs from a bottle of whiskey. None of it was on purpose, but rather a byproduct of being intoxicated and having a high sex drive.

In fact, they had only been on two actual dates when they were together. The first was at the drive-in a town over, the pair sat in Richie’s beat up station wagon, some shitty b-movie playing on the large projector. Gretta shared a pack of cigarettes with him, and it was probably the only kind thing she had ever done. Richie tried to make conversation, so that their relationship actually had some sort of substance other than weed and alcohol; but Gretta quickly shut him up, sticking her cherry coke flavored tongue down his throat.

He took her out to his favorite diner for their other date, figuring that they might have a chance to actually get to know one another without an acceptable place to make out. They sat on opposite sides of a booth outlooking Main street, an old-timey song playing on the jukebox.

This plan proved to be a grave mistake, because Richie finally understood why Bev often said, “Satan himself thinks Gretta Keene is too cruel.”

He repressed the memory, if he remembered it he’d get too pissed off. Instead, Richie thought of their break-up, how she had beat him to the punch.

He had been waiting at her locker, leaning against #405 and picking at his nails, humming a song by The Smiths under his breath. Gretta approached, clad in a pink mini-skirt and a tight crop top, smacking her half-priced bubblegum.

Richie cleared his throat, standing upright, ready to chew her the fuck out for being such a horrible person, “Gretta, let’s talk—“

“We’re through Tozier.”

“What the fuck?!” He had gaped at her, “No, I was going to breakup with you!”

Gretta shooed him away with her manicured hands, “Please, you’re a fucking nobody. Irrelevant. You should be glad we even fucked around this long.”

A small crowd had formed around the two, “You’re the one who kept coming back for more.”

“And you’re the one who actually thought this could be something. So cute. But I don’t date losers and I don’t date attention-whores like you.”

Like he said, grade A bitch.

“Jealous?” Mike snapped Richie from his thoughts.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that he was caught staring, “What? No. I pity the poor bastard that’s with her. Fucking breath smells like a fucking dog ate a pack of Winston’s. Straight up ass.”

Beverly chuckled, but her eyes held a little bit of resentment, “You used to smoke those Winston’s with her.”

“I thought we had an agreement that we would never speak of the Great Gretta Keene Mistake again?”

“Sure, but you’re the one watching her,” Mike pointed out, packing a new bowl, “Missing the one that got away?”

The other boy’s tone was joking but Richie sent him a glare, “She’s fucking irrelevant to me okay?”

They hummed in agreement, but he could see the slight doubt on their faces.

Richie ripped open his bag of chips and threw one in his mouth, “She thinks she’s such hot fucking shit, but she’s so replaceable.”

“Richie, it’s rude to speak with your mouth full,” Mike admonished his bad manners.

“That’s not what your ol’ pops said last night when I was suck-“

“Beep beep, Richie,” Mike warned.

Bev shook her head, “Really Rich? His grandpa?”

“When opportunity strikes,” he flashed a shit eating grin before taking another hit.

“Anyways, while I second the sentiment that Gretta isn’t all that, you haven’t exactly had a relationship since her,” Bev accused.

“Okay, what the fuck is this, ‘pick on Richie day’?” he said, readjusting his position, “Besides, I’ve been with plenty of other people.”

“Please, this isn’t middle school, and I’m still not buying the whole ‘my bedpost is covered in notches’ bit,” Bev inspected the joint between her fingers, now just a stub.

“Well, obviously it’s not. I’ve had sex in many different beds. Yours included,” Richie smirked.

“Beep beep. You know you aren’t allowed over after you almost burned down my aunt’s apartment.”

“The apartment was fine. Everyone knows if you put the temperature up super high food cooks faster. Those tater-tots would’ve been delicious. Bon-appetit,” Richie spoke in a poor french accent, and his eyes widened, “Bon-appetot. Bon-appetatertot.”

He fell into a fit of giggles and Mike chuckled across from him.

“You are a walking disaster Richie Tozier,” Bev said, though an amused smile sat on her lips.

“Richie’s poor life choices aside… One night stands and drunken make out sessions don’t count,” Mike returned to their previous topic, “I mean something sort of serious. Something you put effort into.”

“I don’t put effort into anything Michael dear,” Richie countered.

“Not true. You put effort into a lot of dumb shit,” Bev put out her joint, “Like when you tried to climb the water tower at 3 am naked. Or the time you tried to get the principal to grind with you at homecoming.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Mrs. Marton is a vixen. Can’t believe she resisted my charms.”

Mike laughed, shaking his head, “Point is, it kinda seems like you’re stuck in a rut.”

“I get plenty of action,” Richie boasted, taking a drag from his joint, “Plus, I could make any girl or guy in this piece of shit school fall in love with me.”

“That a bet?” Bev grinned mischievously.

“You know what, why the fuck not?” Richie shrugged. He was bored, and he wanted his friends off his fucking back, “Terms and conditions?”

“Mike and I get to choose the sorry fuck who you’ll be pursuing—“

“No, I don’t wanna be a part of this. Isn’t it kinda fucked up? Getting with someone for a bet? Why don’t you just try to date someone without an ulterior motive?” Mike suggested.

Richie rolled his eyes, adopting an Australian accent, “Now where’s the fun in that mate?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You get till prom to sweep this person off their feet. A committed relationship, not just a hookup. If you win I’ll get you a shit ton of the finest weed the county can offer,” Bev continued, “If you lose—“

“No need to tell me, because I won’t fail,” Richie smirked, “I’m a total knockout.”

Bev’s face mirrored his own, “Fine, it’s your funeral.”

Both of them spit into their palms before shaking their hands, bonding the bet.

“C’mon, let’s go find them— you only have six weeks.”

The three of them packed up their shit, passing around the rest of Richie’s joint so it wouldn’t go to waste before they headed inside. Bev spritzed some perfume on them in an attempt to mask the smell of weed, making Richie smell fruity and floral. He popped a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth, deciding to save his sandwich for AP Calc next block.

It was a rare occurrence for them to roam the halls before the lunch bell rang, so a few of the students stared at them as they went on their search. Mike smiled at just about everyone they passed, a fucking angel per usual.

“What about him, he’s kinda cute,” Bev suggested, nodding her head to a blonde boy holding a skateboard.

Richie shook his head, “We made out at that beach bonfire over the summer. He almost vommed in my fucking mouth. The money maker! These beautiful lips are fuckin sacred— how could I smooch and tell amazing jokes if he fucked em up? These babies ooze charisma and sex appeal.”

“More like ooze bullshit,” Mike quipped.

“I think you’re just jealous that you won’t be the one I’m wooing Mike n Ike.”

Bev snorted, “I pity the poor fuck who you’ll be annoying till prom,” her eyes lit up, and she turned to Mike, “Hey, we might be able to enjoy some peace and quiet for a while!”

“The minute we became best friends with Richie I gave up all hope for tranquility.”

“Hey!” He protested, although Mike was right.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the other boy finished sweetly.

Richie planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, “Oh Mikey, you are the most wholesome-est boy I ever did meet,” he slipped into his southern belle persona, “What about you Bevvy darlin’, got any words to butter up my biscuit? To milk my udder?”

She rolled her eyes and continued walking ahead of them, turning into another hallway.

“Fine, I know you love me Marsh,” Richie used his long lanky legs to his advantage, catching up to stroll alongside her quickly, “What about Betty Ripsom?”

Bev scoffed, “Please, too easy.”

“What?! She’s like, a good ol’ Christian girl. I’m a deviant! My skype username used to be tozier666! Or wait, it was tozier42069… I can’t remember.”

“C’mon Richie, we all know she had a massive crush on you freshman year,” Bev replied.

Mike nodded in agreement, “You wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Like most things,” Bev said, “Anyways, you’d just use that to your advantage. Although, I am liking the whole ‘polar opposite’ approach.”

Richie groaned, of course he had a hand in his own misfortune.

They continued to travel the halls, Beverly’s baby blue eyes scouring for a victim.

“You sure are digging your own grave today Rich,” Mike commented.

Richie nodded, “R.I.P. Richard Tozier. Big Mouth and even Bigger Wan—“

“Found ‘em,” Bev interrupted, a grin on her face.

She pointed down the hallway in front of them, where two boys conversated as everyone walked around them. The taller one had auburn hair, and was lanky like Richie, although the other boy seemed a little more muscular. The other looked like a fucking middle schooler, and Richie wasn’t sure how the little brat even got in there.

It took a minute, but Richie realized that he did actually recognize them. They didn’t interact much, not being in the same circles, but the two boys had been going to school with him since the days of recess. And they had been bullied since then too.  

So, correction, she pointed to where two of the biggest losers in school were talking about what was presumably some nerdy shit. Great.

“What, Big Bill?” Richie raised an eyebrow, “He’s not too bad. Ignore the stutter and the fact that he’s best friends with total dorks and you have a shy lil cutie. Nice handiwork Marsh.”

“You know, you’re a total dork and we’re still friends with you,” Mike quipped, his own way of chastising Richie.

Bev shook her head ‘no’, “Not Denbrough, the other one.”

Richie’s eyes settled on the smaller boy, and the realization that he was totally and utterly fucked set in.

Eddie Kaspbrak. The kid peaked at 5’6, and his lack of muscles along with the fact that he wore an honest to fucking god fanny pack didn’t help his 12 year old boy appearance. Of course, the fanny pack got worse— it was full of pills, eye drops, hand sanitizer, lotion, chapstick, and most importantly, his inhaler. Yes, Eddie was a fucking asthmatic hypochondriac and germaphobe, with an equally insane mother. Richie didn’t doubt that the asshole spent more time perusing WebMD than texting or checking social media.

He wore chunky turtlenecks in the winter, and in the hotter months, his tanned legs adorned tube socks and short-shorts (they were awful, although Richie had to admit they made his ass look great). His small hands gripped onto his stuffed backpack (kid already had a fanny pack full of shit, what else did he have to bring to school?). Eddie’s brown hair was always found in a overly gelled comb over, not a hair out of place. He reminded Richie of an off-brand Fred Savage with severe anxiety.

Mostly, Richie knew Eddie Kaspbrak would hate just about every little thing he did. There was no way they’d even be friends, let alone anything more.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me Bev.”

a/n: thanks for reading!!! richie and eddie will actually talk next chapter, don't worry. also for any concerned about the gretta/richie thing it's not Too Big of a Deal as it is in the movie, i just need it for some plot points (but overall richie is like 100% over gretta and it was just something stupid he did).

[silvainea]

got tagged by @nose-bl :))

1. why did you choose your url?

it’s been a while but im pretty sure it was a mash up of the words for forest and vines in latin as those were heavily part of my aesthetic at the time

2. any side-blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

nope. i had a few fandom accounts on instagram but theyve been long abandoned. 

3. how long have you been on Tumblr?

im pretty sure i joined early 2015 so i really missed the cursedness of 2010-2012 tumblr but i feel like ive been on here long enough to see some shit. also my early fandoms included superwholock and the phandom so :’)

4. do you have a queue tag?

nah so sorry when im on here you get a bunch of spam at once lol

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

to browse fandom stuff and because some of my friends had an account

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

it’s a character i drew for some artists dtiys a long time ago, and i ended up really liking what i drew. although ive been meaning to update it for a while so it might not stay for a lot longer. also just wanted update my tumblr in general it doesnt really represent me anymore i think. 

7. why did you choose your header?

its some Really Old Art that i made and never updated. it was one of the first semi photorealistic paintings i made off of some reference photo

8. what’s your post with the most notes

ummm probably an art post I made. https://silvainea.tumblr.com/post/176696719191/rivals-in-every-universe-some-self-indulgent-vld

my voltron x pokemon crossover. tbh i would really love to add to this if voltron didnt leave such a bitter taste >:((

9. how many mutuals do you have?

is there a way to check that?? I have no idea

10. how many followers do you have?

eh i dont think it really matters 

11. how many people do you follow?

263

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

yeah im pretty sure a few of my art posts qualify as shitposts https://silvainea.tumblr.com/post/169263817456/im-sorry-i-had-to-do-it and https://silvainea.tumblr.com/post/168422246741/i-cant-do-proper-art-rn-so-here-have-a-shitpost

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

uh idef been on here  a lot more recently, but it just depends on how busy i am. I try not too spend tooo much time online everyday though

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

nope. a drama free queen

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

they rly annoy me tbh I dont like the concept of guiltripping people especially when they could just need time to unwind on this site, it just feels v attacky and in your face. I’ll generally ignore them unless it is truly important.

16. do you like tag games?

yeah i dont mind, I like interacting w my mutuals :))

17. do you like ask games?

yeah i dont mind them though i dont generally get a lot of asks

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

none that i know of sry i dont reallyyy keep track of that ( @hunny-pp and @choccos-aaart should be though their art is awesome)

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

um nah but @hunny-pp is my spiritual husband and is immaculate. love u bb

20. tags?

go for it if you want @hunny-pp (sry for hyping u up a lot this post lmao) @choccos-aaart @persaxophone

got tagged by @bauliya (ily) !!

1. why did you choose your url?

evergardenwall is a portmanteau word (i think that's how it's called in english?) mixing violet evergarden and over the garden wall, two animated series i love!

2. any side-blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

i can't maintain sideblogs so i don't have one rip

3. how long have you been on Tumblr?

i used to bookmark my favorite pjo fanartists' blogs plus moringmark's (for his svtfoe fancomics) back in 2016-2017 before attempting to create myself a blog during that same year... but i never used it and it got purged. then i made another blog (this one!) in. 2018 or 2019? to look at yuhki kamatani-related posts.

i started being really active in 2020! (thanks to quarantine i guess)

4. do you have a queue tag?

nope!

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

yuhki kamatani and hiromu arakawa's manga!! and cartoons

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

ponyo is one of my favorite ghibli movies, and the eponym character is a figure who brings me a lot of joy

7. why did you choose your header?

tillie walden's art makes me feel like someone represented my brain under the form of drawings and i Love her works so much. especially are you listening?

also the color palette!!

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

i think it might be one of my drawings! :>

9. how many mutuals do you have?

...no idea but i am amazed my fma mutuals are still following me even though i am a jasico blog at this point LOL

10. how many followers do you have?

[redacted]

11. how many people do you follow?

217!

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

honestly i think most of my posts are shitposts by default... they are just incoherent thougts (unless they get peer reviewed)

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

way too often and i should prepare my grand oral instead but i'm Stressed and fixate on the wrong things instead (pjo analysis posts)

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

sort of? i once got in a debate with someone who said the 03 winry x sheska ship was grooming (no comment) and then deleted the thread because it was making me too anxious

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

i scroll most of the time, unless i find the post genuinely important (but i really don't like the guilt trip going on in these)

16. do you like tag games?

yesss! it makes me happy to see people thinking of me haha

17. do you like ask games?

in general, yes, but my followers aren't v interactive sooo

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

several of my mutuals have popular posts but none of them qualifies for tumblr famous TM and you know what? that's for the better

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

i do have some mutuals living in my head rent free that i care about a lot and find Hot but i don't really consider them crushes (sorry guys)

20. tags?

tagging @iskindiriya @the-ghost-king @shrimpemojis @phlegathonbabe @nose-bl and @firewoodfigs ! no pressure tho <3

[brettanomycroft]

Swamped [Kidge Cryptid Hunt Oneshot, VLD]

“Why else do you think I would insist we come here before we started on our Swamp Ape hunt?” she asks.

“Because we needed cookies?”

She flings her hands up, and the bag of cookies nearly flies off her arm.

“Because we needed to harness Publix's mystical force to aid us in our quest!” she exclaims. Her voice deepens, heightening her drama. “Dark Publix, show me the Cryptids!”

Author’s Note: This was completely self-indulgent. I’m a 3rd or 4th generation Florida native and have spent all but a few years of my life in this lovely, strange state. All but one thing written here about Florida is fact, which is that I don’t think there are two Publix across the street from one another in Cape Canaveral, but there sure are in the town I live in now. Thank @stardusted for the inspiration and planning. She started this. Not me.

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender Paring: Keith x Pidge Words: 6101 Tags: Swamp Ape, gratuitous Florida, barely edited, bonding, sass, snark, more Florida, mosquitoes, kissing, cute shit, rednecks.

Read on AO3 "Flashlights?"

"Check."

"Water bottles?"

"Check."

“Camera?”

Keith turns in his seat towards Pidge and presses the button on a boxy, plastic camera. A flash goes off. She pouts, but for once keeps both hands on the steering wheel, rather than trying to retaliate.

“Digital and disposable, check,” he says with a grin.

“I can't believe they still sell those. At least if that picture is terrible, I can physically burn it.”

“It won't be,” Keith says.

Pidge’s brows raise. It takes her a moment to resume going through her mental checklist. “Bug spray?”

“Like a gallon of it. Are you sure this isn't overkill?”

"Look, Toto, we're not in the desert anymore, so unless you want the mosquitoes to turn you into a prune so you can start planning your early retirement to Boca, then we're going to need alllllll that bug spray. You've gotta trust me, I'm the expert here. Now, do we have the cookies?”

He looks down at the disposable camera. Suddenly, the process of winding it to the next picture is the most important task in the world.

“Uh…”

The clicking sound as he winds the camera bridges the silence.

"You forgot to grab the cookies?" she asks in a low voice.

"My arms were full carrying all the bug spray!" Which is how Keith finds himself in the middle of an aisle at a grocery story that is surprisingly nice considering he lost cell service thirty minutes ago and still isn't sure if Pidge sneezed in the middle of telling him the name of the "town" they were stopping in.

For an intergalactic pilot, his Earth-side travel had been limited to the desert outskirts beyond The Garrison and a few big cities he visited with his dad, cities that seem more haze than memory now. The maze of palm trees and identical ranch homes the Holts lived in mystified him, and the rural, ramshackle spots he and Pidge had stopped off at when they needed gas were downright eerie. And while he really doesn't get how peanut butter cookies are crucial to the cryptid-hunting process, he's more than willing to give Pidge credit for taking them to what seems the likeliest place for downhome folklore to become fact.

Assuming they ever get out to the site. By the time Pidge decides which brand of cookie to get, the team’s “Voltron Spring Break 2020” will be well over. He wonders how the locals would take to the sight of a massive, glowing UFO appearing over their neighborhood Publix.

“Why don't you just get the ones from the bakery?” he asks.

She looks over her shoulder and rolls her eyes as if he’s asked the most obvious question in the world. Keith gets the sense that she’d wave a dismissive hand in his direction, if both weren’t occupied with two different boxes of cookies.

“The bakery cookies come in those child-proofed plastic containers,” she says, “meaning they’ll make way too much noise to open and close any time we want to eat during the hunt.” The follow up *duh* is unspoken.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Keith leans against the shelves opposite her, careful not to disturb the rows of crackers. “You’re the expert,” he replies, voice going flat so that she could tell just *how impressed* he was.

Pidge puts one of the packages of cookies back on the shelf. She must hear his sigh of relief, though, because a moment later she locks eyes with him and makes a slow reach for another type of cookie.

“Come *on* Pidge.”

A wicked grin stretches slow across her face. “Why don't you go grab another bottle of bug spray while I finish picking out the cookies?”

Keith shakes his head and crosses to Pidge’s side of the aisle. Stretching past her, he picks the box of cookies Pidge just set down, and another box of the ones she still has in hand.

“It's a conspiracy,” he says gravely. “No one needs that much bug spray unless they've got a vested financial stake in it. I refuse to to help you serve the secret interests of Big DEET, Pidge.”

“While in most cases I'd be inclined to agree with you,” she says, “This time, your theory neglects to take into account one important variable: we're in Florida, a state that is more bug than land.”

“Sounds like something a Big DEET lackey would say to cover up their connections.” He pauses to stick out his tongue in response to hers. “Forget the extra bug spray, let’s roll.”

With a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, she sets down the cookies in her hand and follows him towards checkout. When he glances back, he can see the tell-tale tight lips of one trying their best to hold back a smile.

The two of them ignore the strange looks they get from the cashier as they unwind the secret plottings of Big DEET and the significance of OFF™. They pay, and Keith hands the plastic bag filled with cookies to Pidge. She immediately tries to push it back to him, but he sidesteps and comes in with a “You know, we're standing in the most intriguing Florida conspiracy I’ve ever witnessed, but I haven't heard anyone question it.”

Already curious, she doesn't try to hand the bag off to him again. Success.

“What are you talking about?”

The cashier stares hard at them, face still fixed in a smile, but ready for them to clear out so she can finish with the customers behind them. Keith ignores her in favor of making a wide, sweeping gesture towards the grocery store around them.

“Publix. Ever since we landed, it's all I ever hear your mom and dad and Matt talk about. Even you've started doing it. 'Keith, you haven't lived until you've had a Pub Sub,’ and 'I know we stopped at Publix earlier, but let’s go pick up this other thing.’ It goes on.” Pidge nods along, glee filling her face.

“I'm pretty sure everything in your house is Publix brand,” he continues, “and three days ago, when your dad was driving us around town, I saw two Publix across the street from one another…And both were packed. Everyone here has an unnatural obsession with this store.”

The cashier finally shoos them towards the exit. They stop once they reach the parking lot, where Pidge reaches up to cup his cheek. She shakes her head.

“Oh, poor, naive Keith,” she says, doing her best to keep a straight face. “The Publix Phenomenon isn't a conspiracy if everyone knows about it and is willingly accepting. Every Florida child grows up learning of the strange contract made between the Jenkins family and a powerful, interdimensional entity. No one cares because Publix is the best.”

Her words pick up momentum, excitement and investment in the ridiculous story growing. Her eyes crinkle at the corners and he's not entirely sure if it's her pulse or his that he feels at the point where their skin meets.

Her hand drops. Keith exhales, letting go a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

“Why else do you think I would insist we come here before we started on our Swamp Ape hunt?” she asks.

“Because we needed cookies?”

She flings her hands up, and the bag of cookies nearly flies off her arm.

“Because we needed to harness Publix's mystical force to aid us in our quest!” she exclaims. Her voice deepens, heightening her drama. “Dark Publix, show me the Cryptids!”

She holds her pose for a few long ticks before they both dissolve into laughter. Clutching at his stomach, Keith doubles over, gasping as he tries to speak.

“And here this whole time I thought you were weird. Turns out you're just Floridian,” he manages.

“Hey! I resemble that remark!”

Pidge chases him all the way back to the car, both cackling as she tries to nail him with the wildly swinging bag of cookies.

…

It's another 30 minute’s drive out to the location Pidge has found for their Swamp Ape stakeout. The sun is low in the sky and right in their faces, but the car’s A/C is cold and conversation engaging. Pidge once again shares how she found the spot: a combination of digging through forums and coding a program that took location and environmental data from the various sightings and calculated the best possible area for spotting the cryptid. Keith's heard the story three or four times by now, but doesn't begrudge her excitement. Once she’s done, he retells his story of how his attempts at tracking down the Thunderbird ended up with him trespassing on Garrison property before he was even a cadet. Pidge always laughs at the part where he evaded Iverson by making terrible bird calls, so it’s worth the embarrassment of recreating the scene.

Between laughing at themselves and the dense forest that crowds the single lane highway they’re cruising down, Pidge misses the turn off. They’re alone on the straight, narrow road, so Pidge lets out her choicest of expletives and pulls a U-turn right in the middle of it. Both of their phones are without signal, but Keith had gone the old school route and printed out the map as well, so after a few miles going under the speed limit and another U-turn, they find their road.

Loose gravel crunches under car tires. A plume of dust rises up behind them. Keith stares out the windows, transfixed by the way the trees flit by. His eyes catch on shadows and shapes further back in the woods: trees, no doubt, but in the growing twilight he swears he sees something dart away.

Being a paladin of Voltron came with no shortage of action and excitement. They were constantly on guard, always ready for the next fight. But this is a different prickling in his stomach. This is a pick up in his pulse that he hasn’t felt since he was fourteen and scrambling under a break in the fence at The Garrison. He glances over at Pidge. Her attention is glued to the path ahead, but there’s the hint of a grin at her lips. Her hands flex and tighten on the steering wheel.

The road dead ends at a small clearing of grass. Pidge parks the car. At the far end of the clearing, a few knobbly fence posts do their best to hold back the forest. Pidge turns to him, vibrating in anticipation. Her eyes are bright, a hint of gold lit in the setting sun.

“Ready?” she asks.

“Beyond ready.”

Keith opens the passenger door, slides out, and shoulders his backpack. From the side pocket, he withdraws his knife and returns it to its proper place on his hip. Pidge had assured him that open carry was a thing in Florida, but he hadn’t wanted to take chances. The weight of his blade at his side kickstarts the pounding of his heart, sending it to his ears. He can see Pidge getting geared up on the other side. She bounces from foot to foot, tests the weight of her backpack, and consults the compass clipped to her shorts.

“Let’s roll. We’ve got an hour or so until sundown.”

They cross the clearing. Long grasses and weeds tickle and stick at Keith’s ankles. He regrets not wearing jeans, but Pidge had insisted that he’d die of heat stroke before they found the Swamp Ape if he did.

Pidge stops between two of the fence posts. Barbed wire coils between the posts, the “NO TRESPASSING” sign attached to it faded but sturdy. She doesn’t hesitate or turn towards the car. He can’t hold back a grin as she pulls a pair of thick work gloves and her bayard from the side pocket of her backpack and goes, “Care to do the honors?”

“Nah, go for it. I broke the law last time.”

She chuckles, tugs on the gloves, and dispatches the barbed wire with little effort.

“Remind me to fix that on the way out,” she says.

“Fix that on the way out,” he replies.

“You’re *so* helpful.”

With her gloves, she holds the barbed wire back, allowing him to pass. He reaches up and ruffles her hair once he’s safely past the sharp metal.

“I try,” he says.

He walks two or three yards into the forest, then turns when he doesn’t hear Pidge’s footsteps behind him. Rather than the expected look of disgust, she stares at him with an expression that falls somewhere between impish and downright devious.

“You’re forgetting something, Keith,” she says in a singsong voice.

“And what’s that?”

From the bottle holder of her backpack, she yanks out not a bottle of water, but a massive can of bug spray.

“Spray down time.”

Groaning, Keith trudges back to her.

“Repellent?” he asks. “I thought that’s why I had you and your personality here.”

And, as he deserves, Pidge hits him in the pants with a long shot of the wet, citrus-smelling stuff.

…

Their little camp is little more than a blanket laid out on the ground and their backpacks leaned up against the wide trunk of an oak. They’d walked maybe a mile or two from the clearing until Pidge had dubbed them sufficiently far enough from civilization for a Swamp Ape to appear. Settling in, they’d gotten out their individual field notebooks, water, and one of the boxes of cookies. And then, the wait began.

There’s desert hot, and then there’s *this*, and *this* is misery. Oftentimes when Pidge had talked about home, she’d referred to it as “the swamp”, but in the cool expanse of space, it had been hard to imagine. Keith ought to have figured it out as they were flying in, when he’d seen from Red’s viewscreen the long tracts of murky green, but Pidge had been chattering away over their private channel about how great it was going to be to see her family and take him out on a proper cryptid hunt, so it hadn’t really hit him.

The heat doesn’t just swelter, it clings. Walking through a wall of food goo would have been easier and more pleasant than what they’re sitting in now. The lowering sun provides as little relief from the heat as do the pines that stretch above them. If anything, the trees trap the humidity in. Pidge runs a can of soda along her forehead and cheek. The hair from her ponytail that isn’t plastered to her neck curls and frizzes.

A buzzing at his ears tells him that despite all the bug spray, he’s about to become dinner; he swats at the mosquito near his neck and lands a hit. When he pulls his hand away to look, its a mess of sweat, dirt, and a smear of blood. Keith decides then and there that the only good thing to come from Florida is Pidge, and even right now, she’s not earning many points. He should have gone to Disney with Lance, Hunk, and Allura, or stayed in Cape Canaveral and gone bar-hopping with Shiro, Matt, and Coran.

“Why did we have to choose to hunt the Swamp Ape?” he grumbles. “Why couldn’t it have been the Beach Ape, or better yet, the Indoor Air Conditioning Ape?”

“Because those aren’t legendary monsters, those are tourists,” she says. “I know the heat’s shitty, but shut it. All your complaining will scare off the Swamp Ape.”

He’s not sure if he should feel relieved to know from the sting of her words proved the heat was getting to her too, or offended by her jab. Pidge could get downright nasty when the mood struck - her sense of tact and social etiquette were about as refined as his - but most of the time he had the privilege of being the observer, not the recipient.

And maybe she realizes her harshness: a few ticks later, she pulls a chilled soda from her bag and waves it in front of him.

“Cool off?” she asks, as close to an apology as he can expect.

“Yeah, sure.”

She slides the can up his arm, giggling when he jumps at the cold contact on his skin. A trail of goosebumps follows the condensation the can leaves as she rolls it over his shoulder and up his neck.

The next two hours pass easier with Pidge recling on her backpack next to him. They split a beer Keith nicked from Lance; not because either of them were too young to buy their own, but because watching the confused look dawn on Lance's face the next morning as he counted the drinks left and tried to compare it to what he was sure he’d drunk the night before was one of their new favorite things. In low whispers they exchange what they know about their quarry, from the accounts they’d each read about to their own pet theories. There’s an undertone of hope, as if talking about the Swamp Ape might make it appear, but instead the sun sinks below the horizon and the mosquitoes come out in full force.

Keith had the foresight to bring a deck of cards, so they flip on the lantern Pidge packed and run through their options. Egyptian Rat Screw is out of the question - too loud - but they play a few good rounds of Rummy, Crazy Eights, and a game Coran had taught them called Yarbling Yellmore. Pidge then cajoles him into a game of Go Fish, which is unfair when they both know she’s the reigning Go Fish champion back on the Castle.

“Got any… threes?” she asks.

“Go Fish,” he says, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible.

In the fuzzy blue light of the lantern, Keith sees Pidge give him a *look*. Her eyes narrow and she purses her lips.

“You’d better not be lying,” she mutters.

“I’m not. Go Fish.”

“Keith, this isn’t Bullshit, give me your goddamned three.”

She leans in. He resists the impulse to lean back, doing everything in his power to maintain his semblance of innocence.

“I already told you, I don’t have one. Go Fish.”

As if this weren’t the first time this has happened, Keith scrambles back on his butt the moment before Pidge launches herself at him. He keeps his card hand high in the air, out of her reach as she practically crawls over him on all fours.

“You’re such a shit,” Pidge swears, trying to swipe at his cards.

“What happened to being quiet?” he teases. He stretches his arm up even higher.

Of all of the paladins, he’s the shortest second to Pidge, but every bit of extra height counts in carrying on the game of keep-away. Her knee digs into his thigh and her hand is planted on his shoulder as she continues her futile attempts to snatch his cards from him. He tilts his head up to avoid getting a mouthful of green tee-shirt, only to come to close to getting a mouthful of something else. Pidge seems not to have noticed the precarious nature of their position or the red that floods his face. She leans in closer as she tries to leverage all the height she can to reach his cards.

“What happened to h-” Pidge starts, but her voice cuts off with a sharp squeak the moment after a loud rustle comes from the dark forest.

Their heads snap towards the sound. Beyond the circle of the lantern the forest is a patchwork of black and blacker. They both jump as a deafening crack of a tree branch snapped in half echoes around them. Without looking away from the verge of light and shadow, Keith plants his hands on Pidge’s hips to keep her from tumbling on top of him. His cards hit the ground with the faintest flutter. Pidge is too occupied to notice the pair of threes.

“Swamp Ape?” Pidge breathes.

“Dunno.”

The sound of scattering leaves and shaking foliage continues. A chorus of pops and cracks surround them. Pidge tenses under his hands.

“Flashlight?”

“Closest one is in my backpack. Front pocket,” he whispers.

Pidge slides off of him and inches towards his backpack. With aching slowness she undoes the zipper, trying to make as little noise as possible. The unseen source of the rustling nears; Keith can practically taste the tang of his heart in his mouth. Whatever it is, it's almost at the edge of their makeshift camp.

“Gotcha,” Pidge hisses. She stands, Keith's flashlight in hand, and swings the beam of light towards the noise.

Three small, bulbous shapes give off a dull shine in the light. They freeze in the middle of their rooting around in the dirt. Black beady eyes peer out at them. Pidge lets out a long string of expletives that ends in “Quiznaking armadillos.”

Tension drains from Keith's body, and he falls back on the blanket. He needs a minute to get the painful pounding of his heart back to a healthy tempo. He hears Pidge stomp around and kick up leaves and twigs to chase the small creatures away; the rustling they make as they scamper back into the forest isn’t even as close to as loud as it had seemed before.

Pidge collapses on the blanket next to him with a huff. They look at one another, and burst into laughter.

...

“We’re goinna give it thirty more minutes,” Keith insists, “and then call it quits. If the Swamp Ape doesn’t show up before then, it gets to keep its ‘Elusive’ status.”

The protest Pidge offers is garbled, drowsy.

“Beg pardon?” he says.

She shifts a little to look up at him, but her head remains planted on his shoulder. Her eyelashes flutter as she fights oncoming sleep.

“But I wanted you to have the coolest cryptid hunt ever,” Pidge whines. “Instead all we’ve had swampy weather and some stupid armadillos.”

Keith eyes the watch on his wrist. After having gotten used to the ticker he wore while in space, it takes him a moment to interpret. It’s already past midnight, and they’ve got a two hour drive back to Pidge’s house that Keith suspects he’ll be in charge of. He runs a hand over her hair, consoling.

“I’m having fun,” he says. “Swamp Ape or no Swamp Ape. What else do you think I’d want to be doing? Spending my Spring Break keeping Coran and Matt from starting bar fights? Spinning around in some silly bowls at an overpriced circus until I puked?”

Pidge chuckles, and scoots closer. She adjusts until it seems she’s found a more comfortable position leaning against him.

“One,” she starts, “don’t pretend like you wouldn’t be the first to start a bar fight.” Keith shrugs the best he can without disturbing her. “And two, don’t knock the teacups ‘til you’ve tried them. Outside of the mindlessly long lines the Disney Corporation uses to optimize harnessing of human soul energy, the parks are pretty great.”

“The only way any of that could be more entertaining than what we’re doing is if the bar fight was at Disney.”

They continue chatting, doing their best to keep the other awake for the final half hour of their quest. While not as oppressive as earlier, the air is still on the warm side, and between that and the lullaby-strains of frog song and insect hum, Keith knows he’s fighting a losing battle. He can see a pocket of stars through a break in the trees above, and decides he likes how pleasantly surreal it feels to be with Pidge looking up at the stars instead of down. His fingers absently toy with the end of her ponytail as they talk.

Ten minutes remain in their hunt when it happens.

It starts with the frogs. Pidge is the first to notice. She sits up.

“Hear that?” she whispers.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

The forest is cloaked in odd silence. Keith feels very, very awake.

They sit in absolute stillness, and are rewarded a few seconds later by a long, deep howling sound. It’s too far off for Keith to figure out what direction it’s coming from, but it won’t be that way for long: it’s getting louder.

When he’d imagined the Swamp Ape, he hadn’t imagined the terrible crush of underbrush like thunder rising from the earth, hadn’t imagined the inhuman, reverberating roar, unlike anything he’s ever heard before. Blurry images of a tall, loping figure flash through his mind. All reports indicated it was fast, powerful. His paladin armor would be a blessing right about now.

Pidge grabs his hand and squeezes hard. She’s gone pale, and it’s clear the same thoughts are crossing her mind. Blindly, she fumbles for her backpack and feels around until she finds her bayard.

“Keith, if we die here,” she says, voice low and serious, “I want you to know that there’s no one else in the world I’d want to go cryptid hunting with and that I’d been hoping we could do that kind of stuff together for the rest of our lives, Voltron or no.”

Something pings in his brain at her words, something some part of him feels like he would be paying a lot more attention to if the angry bellowing of a charging creature weren’t headed straight for them. He stands, muscles tensing.

“We’re not going to die, Pidge,” he snaps. “We’re both trained warriors with space weapons going up against a big monkey.”

“Okay, well, yeah,” she says as she stands up, “but the adrenaline’s talking now and I don’t have a good brain-to-mouth filter under normal circumstances and monkeys and apes aren’t the same thing.”

Whatever beast is out there isn’t slowing down. Keith estimates they have maybe another twenty seconds before it reaches their camp.

Pidge and Keith turn to each other as one. And maybe the adrenaline has hit his bloodstream, or maybe her words catch up with him, or maybe this was going to happen the entire time and both of them were too wrapped up in the hunt to even notice, but it happens now: Keith slings his free arm around her waist and Pidge grabs his shoulder and their teeth click painfully as their lips collide once, twice, three times. He tastes peanut butter and mint gum when his tongue slides into her mouth. A soft whine rises from the back of her throat when they part for air, a sound he mimics when she sucks his bottom lip between her teeth a moment later. The roaring in his ears is either his heart or the Swamp Ape less than ten feet away, probably both.

Hand on his blade, he pulls away from her and turns to the source of the roar. Every muscle tenses, each nerve fires off with the command to defend: now that he's kissed Pidge, he's not about to let either of them get mauled by Redneck Sasquatch. Next to him, Pidge crouches low. Her bayard sparks to life, glow illuminating flushed cheeks and kiss-plush lips.

They’re hit with a bright blast of light. Keith throws up his arm but it’s too late, and he’s blinded. He holds his defensive stance and tries to blink his vision back.

“What the hell are ya’ll doin’ out here? This is my private property!”

As his eyes adjust to the light, it clarifies into two points - headlights. A loud motor revs and growls. Keith can just make out the darker outline of what looks like a 4-wheeler with a man atop it. He can’t see the expression on the man’s face, but the anger in his shout and the slender shadow of a shotgun make his facial features pretty unnecessary.

Pidge gets her words back first, but he swears he hears a slight twang to her voice that, should they make it out of this alive, he was definitely going to tease her for.

“Sir, we are so sorry, we did not mean any harm, you see, it’s just that we were out here lookin’ for, ah, uh…”

The man gives a contemptuous snort. “Lookin’ for what? Ain’t nothin’ but pine and cattle for a’hunnerd acres.” He turns his head towards Keith. “Nah, the only thing ya’ll’re lookin’ for was a real private place. Thinkin’ you could get some all the way out in the woods, huh boy?”

Keith tries to stammer out some sort of response, but he’s completely blindsided. He looks from the rancher, to the wrinkled blanket below his feet, to Pidge, wild hair mussed from a long night of humidity. It does look a lot like what the rancher was suggesting.

“No, that’s not-” Keith starts. “We weren’t doing anything!” He clenches his fists to keep himself from reaching for his knife. He’s been launched from one potential fight into another, and his body is still ready to go. Reason tells him that the last thing he needs to do is beat up some stranger in the deep woods of Florida, but instinct doesn’t like the way the man is staring the two of them down.

“We were looking for the Swamp Ape!” Pidge shouts.

Just like before, the entire forest goes quiet. Even the thrum of the 4-wheeler’s motor seems muted.

“The what?”

“The Swamp Ape,” Pidge repeats, sounding defensive.

A bark of laughter echoes around them. The rancher lowers his gun.

“Where you two from?” he asks.

“Cape Canaveral,” she says.

“You two came all the way out here from Canaveral lookin’ for that damn ape?” The man hoots and dissolves into great gasping bouts of laughter.

Keith takes a breath, stance relaxing. They were going to be all right. He sees Pidge deactivate her bayard.

“Yes Sir, we did.”

It takes three or four more staggering breaths before the man can speak again. “Girl, there ain’t been a sightin’ this far north in years. You gotta go down to the Everglades if you wanna catch a whiff a’ him.”

Pidge visibly deflates, shoulders sagging. The expression on her face as she turns to Keith is pure apology. He shrugs.

The rancher lets them pack up their things and escorts them back to the property line. He watches with an appreciative eye as Pidge uses her bayard to mend the cut barbed wire, then issues about as stern of a warning as he can muster.

“I figure ya’ll wastin’ your time out here for nothin’ is punishment enough.”

…

The drive back is quiet. Despite the chug of the A/C, the air feels thick. Keith stares out the window, but sneaks glances at Pidge when he thinks her attention is fixed on the road. He’d kissed her. She’d kissed him. Somehow, that discovery feels more monumental than 1,000 confirmed conspiracy theories.

He takes another chance at a glance, and finds her looking at him.

“I’d understand if you don’t want to go on anymore cryptid hunts,” she says in a quiet voice. “This was a total bust.”

He swallows hard and reaches out to fiddle with the air vent. It’s suddenly hotter than an afternoon in July. He shakes his head.

“I thought you said you wanted to do this kind of stuff together forever. I was starting to get pretty set on the idea.”

Pidge’s smile is soft. Keith assembles every last bit of courage that hasn’t been drained from the night’s events, and leans over to take the hand resting in her lap. Her fingers curl around his.

“You’re by far the best thing to come out of Florida,” he says.

If she thinks she can cover up how wide her eyes get, or the color that rushes to her cheeks with a sarcastic sounding, “Keith Kogane, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” well, she’s wrong.

She holds his hand the rest of the drive home, not even letting go when she has to swerve around a pack of armadillos crossing the middle of the road.

…

3 AM has come and gone by the time Pidge navigates the car into the driveway. The Holt family home is dark but for a single stove top light in the kitchen, which allows Matt, the only one still awake, to give them a once-over. He sets aside the jar of peanut butter and spoon in hand and lets out a low whistle.

“No luck, huh?” he says.

Keith feels the mirth radiating from Matt as he takes in their matching sweat-drenched clothes and mud-flaked faces. He circles the kitchen island and plucks a small twig out of Pidge's hair.

“Three armadillos, an annoyed rancher, and a flock of mosquitoes,” Pidge mumbles.

“Not exactly the monsters you were looking for, then,” Matt says. “You’da had better luck coming out to the bar with me and Shiro and Coran. We ran into something inhuman tonight - dunno what it was, but Coran swore up and down that it wasn't an alien.”

Matt launches into a descriptive but somewhat slurred story about, from what Keith could gather in between the large clumps of peanut butter Matt starts eating again, Coran’s close encounter of the Texan kind. Keith's too tired to protest or be offended at Matt's descriptions of the tourist.

Keith and Pidge yawn in unison. He can feel sleep creeping up on him, and if he doesn’t go upstairs and shower soon, he’s going to fall asleep in the middle of the kitchen, coated in a thick layer of sweat and bug spray.

“Eh, well, you’ll have better luck next time,” Matt says. He tries to twirl his peanut butter spoon between his fingers, but it drops with a loud clunk. His eyes narrow as he shoots the spoon an accusing glare, then shrugs and scoops out some peanut butter with his finger instead.

“But just think,” Matt continues. “Maybe the real cryptid was the friends you made along the way”

Pidge glances at Keith. She bites her bottom lip, then looks away. Keith feels warm again. He, too, suddenly finds it hard to look at her.

Matt laughs. He looks like he’s about to pat Keith on the back, but reconsiders a moment later. Keith is pretty sure the stench coming from him and Pidge is potent enough to put the Swamp Ape to shame.

“I call first dibs on the shower,” Pidge announces.

She wraps his hand in hers and gives it a quick squeeze, then hurries upstairs before he can protest her shower dibs. He watches her climb up until she’s out of sight.

When Keith turns back, he meets Matt’s piercing stare. For all that Matt had been acting like he’d had a bit too much at the bars that night, the look he gives Keith now is both sober and sobering.

“Any theories on why you guys didn’t manage to find the Swamp Ape?” he asks. “Maybe a little too occupied with something else?”

After everything Keith has faced that night - mosquitoes, wild armadillos, unpredictable property owners - nothing chills his blood so much as the very Big Brother expression on Matt’s face.

“Apparently we were too far north for a good sighting,” Keith says quickly, “and if we wanted to actually track it down we’d have to go to the Everglades.”

“Next time, then,” Matt says. Keith shivers.

“Yeah, hopefully.”

“Maybe I’ll come along.”

“Yeah, sure thing, definitely,” Keith hedges. “Well, I’m exhausted soooo I’m just going to go upstairs now.”

Matt wishes him a ‘good night’ that sounds a lot like ‘I’d better not catch you doing anything with my sister’. Keith does his best to walk upstairs in a calm, collected manner. He’s so focused on avoiding a premature death that he nearly jumps out of his skin when Pidge swings up the door to her room and steps into the hallway.

She’s bundled in a towel, pajamas in hand, and her hair cascades down across her bare shoulders. All thoughts of Matt and dying vacate.

“I’m going to hop in the shower,” she says quietly.

“Don’t take too long. The only cryptid rarer than a Clean Pidge is a Pidge Shower that’s less than 45 minutes.”

Rolling her eyes, Pidge leans in and presses a light kiss on his lips.

“You’re lucky that Blushing Keith is my favorite cryptid,” she shoots back.

Stunned, he doesn’t manage his reply until she’s almost shut the bathroom door behind her.

“Well, you’re mine!” he says.

Keith counts it as a success when he hears a soft yelp and a drawn out “Stoooooop,” from the other side of the door.