#in the second one her top and various accents are purple but look pink on my phone *shrug*

[masschase]

2 photos taken seconds before disaster

I finally revisited some old sketches so here are Casey's looks from the start and end of Saints Row (2006)

“You know... I don’t know anything about your life before the Saints... like, at all.”

“Yeah, no-one really does.” That wasn’t really true. Out of everyone on the ship, one person knew it vaguely. The other knew it rather well. “Look, I don’t mind you knowing. It’s just a pain in the ass explaining it all.”

“You could give me an abbreviated version?”

She sighed. “OK...” she thought about it a second. “Short version is... dad left soon after I was born, sister practically raised me, pill-junkie mom kicked me outta the house at fifteen for bein’ bi.”

“See, I knew you had to have a tragic backstory.”

“It’s not tragic, Kinzie, it’s just... you know... a bit shitty.” she responded, shrugging. “My friend’s mom was used to taking care of me so she let me crash at hers for a couple’a weeks, but eventually she said I’d better go back home, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I didn’t have one anymore. Next thing I know, I’m walkin' around the streets of Saint's Row at a REALLY stupid time of night to be walkin' around the streets of Saint's Row."

“Right. You get caught in a gang battle, a Vice King nearly shoots you, Troy and Julius save your ass.”

“Yep. Congratulations, you officially know as much of my life before the Saints as Johnny does.”

(if anyone wants a long overanalysis of how symbolic these outfits are please feel free to ask 🤣)

[ravendruid]

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 11

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. Summary: Vox Machina go out to drink and Keyleth and Vax get to know each other a bit more. Disclaimer: the legal drinking age in this AU is 18, and all characters are 18 or over.

Glorious was indeed an apt name for the bar. It was located in a nondescript small street not too far from campus where the dark brick buildings blended so well collectively during the night that Keyleth couldn’t distinguish between them. The only way she could tell of the bar’s existence was the faint purple aura that emanated from the wooden door, along with the sign hanging above it: a golden unicorn over a dark background and Glorious written above it, in equally gold, beautifully calligraphed lettering.  

Keyleth and Vax had walked side by side, trailing the group who already knew their way to the establishment even with their eyes closed. She couldn’t stop blushing from how handsome he looked. There wasn’t much difference in his clothes, Vax was still wearing all black and his leather jacket, and part of his hair was tied in a bun as the rest fell to his shoulders. But something about seeing him out in the dark of night made him look more mysterious and sexier. Keyleth, on the other hand, had tried to put a little more effort into her look, she was wearing a white mid-thigh skirt and a red long-sleeve top with a curved neckline, and she had traded her canvas sneakers for a pair of black high heels that she borrowed from Vex, which made her even taller than Vax. Pike had helped her do her hair – two braids that pulled from the front, along the sides of her head and tied into a tall ponytail that cascaded past her shoulders – and Vex had helped with the make-up, a light red and orange toned eyeshadow, dark eyeliner and mascara and a soft pink lipgloss. Keyleth definitely felt pretty – prettier than she had ever felt – and seeing the boys’ reactions when the girls left their bedroom was absolutely worth it.

Keyleth wasn’t sure what she expected when Vex opened the wooden door – she had never been to a bar before, which was already making her nervous – but a beaded curtain in different shades of purple, pink, and golden was not it. Her friends disappeared through the curtain into the purple glow and the thankfully not-so-loud music inside, and as Grog stepped in behind Pike, Keyleth took a deep breath, readying herself for what was about to come.

“Wait,” Vax held her wrist softly, pulling her closer to him. His eyes searched for hers, and she saw her anxiety mirrored in them. “You say the word, we go, got it?” His voice trembled in a whisper. Keyleth swallowed and nodded.

“Let’s just–�� She sighed. “Let’s just give it a try. For them?”

“Yeah, let’s try to have fun.” They both nodded in agreement, and Keyleth stepped in.

The first thing Keyleth noticed was that the bar looked much bigger inside than the outside appeared to be and that the purple aura they had seen from underneath the door came from the faint purple glow of lights spread around the area. The room was filled with old wooden tables and booths whose black leather seats were worn yet not ripped, and each table had a bowl with what seemed to be floating purple candles and rose petals. The walls were adorned with various curtains and fabrics in diverse shades of purple, lilac, soft pinks, and golden accents. On the opposite side of the entrance was a wall displaying dozens of bottles behind a long wooden counter where a very handsome man in his mid-twenties with long, thick, coarse black hair tied into a ponytail stood, greeting everyone and serving drinks. Even his attire appeared to fit perfectly with the purple and gold theme of the bar. To Keyleth’s right was a set of doors – one marked as restrooms, and the other had an employees-only sign affixed to it – and to her left was a wooden staircase with deep purple carpet and golden trim, that led to a second floor, much to her surprise.

Her friends were already gathered around a booth in the farthest corner, so Keyleth looked back at Vax and nodded in their direction. Thankfully, the bar area didn’t have many people yet, but he still followed her like a shadow, with the tips of his fingers just briefly touching her back in reassurance as she traversed the tables. Keyleth sat on the bench between Pike, on her right, and Vax, on her left. Grog, the bulkiest of the group, had stolen a chair from another table and sat at the top with a grin, so thankfully, they weren’t too crowded in the booth. Keyleth couldn’t help but notice that Vax was pressed to her side, yet his touch was relaxing and comforting, even though she knew he must have been as anxious as she was. 

“Alright, first round’s on me,” Grog announced, getting up. 

“I would like a Margarita, please, Grog,” Vex asked.

“You know what I want, buddies.” Pike chuckled in her seat, winking at Vex.

“Right, a beer. I gotchu, Pikey.” Grog had taken out his phone and was avidly typing on it.

“I’ll take the usual, please.” Scanlan shuffled in his seat, avoiding eye contact with Pike, who sat right in front of him.

“A cospomolitan for Scanlan,” Grog smirked.

“It’s cosmopolitan, Grog,” Pike corrected with a chuckle, much to Scanlan’s embarrassment.

“I’ll take a Long Island Iced Tea, please,” Percy asked.

“Percy, we are here to get wasted, not to drink tea!” Grog complained.

“It is alcohol, Grog. I promise.” 

Grog looked at Pike and Vex, and when they nodded in confirmation, he shrugged and typed on his phone.

“How about you two?” He looked at Vax and Keyleth, who had been watching the entire thing like a game of tennis.

“I–I’ll take a soda,” Keyleth said.

“They don’t have sodas here, Keyleth.” Keyleth could tell from the deadpan look Grog gave her that he was obviously lying.

“O–oh?” 

“Grog, get Keyleth the same as me,” Vex said in a sultry tone. “Trust me, darling. You’ll love it.” She winked, and Keyleth’s face flushed.

“Alright, and you?” Grog turned to Vax eagerly.

“Sex on the beach, please,” Vax replied nonchalantly. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Grog asked, confused, looking around at everyone else chuckling in their seats.

“You heard me, big guy.” Vax smiled and winked at Grog. Keyleth joined the laughter as Grog, rarely embarrassed by anything, nodded with a blush spreading on his cheeks and turned away to the bar.

“I think you broke him, Vax.” Pike joked, and Vax chuckled in reply. 

Keyleth would not have considered Grog particularly dextrous, so she was surprised when he returned to the table a few minutes later, holding one tray of drinks in each hand, his tongue out in concentration. However, Keyleth was also scared because, as he set down both trays, she noticed the second tray was full of fourteen shot glasses, a salt shaker, and a plate with lime slices. 

“O-oh no,” Keyleth blushed as Vax handed her two shot glasses and her drink. 

“What?” Vex smirked at her from across the table. “Scared of a little Tequila shot?”

Keyleth widened her eyes at her and fumbled with her hands in her lap nervously.

“I can take one of yours,” Vax said, glaring at his sister, who raised an eyebrow at him. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just not used to drinking much.” Keyleth took a sip of her drink, and the hairs of her arms rose at the same time that cold spread down her spine. Her throat felt warm and cold at the same time, and the bitterness of the drink made her shiver. “Oh, this is strong,” Keyleth cleared her throat, and Vex laughed.

“Oh, darling. We’re gonna have so much fun tonight,” Vex winked at Keyleth again, who tried to hide further back in her seat.

“Alright, you guys know the drill,” Pike called to their attention, grabbing a lime slice and setting it on one of her shot glasses. Keyleth observed as, one by one, her friends licked the back of their hands and poured salt over it, and then grabbed a slice of lime. She looked to her side, only to see Vax smiling at her as he licked the back of his hand with a shrug. 

“You don’t have to do it,” He reassured her, pouring salt where he had licked. 

“Yes, she does. Shut up, brother,” Vex complained. “You’ll be fine, Keyleth. We won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Vex offered a kind, honest smile, which made her feel better, so Keyleth copied her friends once Vax was done with the shaker, licking the back of her hand and pouring salt over it. 

“Vox Machina,” Grog shouted, raising his shot glass in the middle of the table, followed by everyone else. “Fuck. Shit. Up.” He screamed so loud that Keyleth looked around to see if anyone had heard them – a few people were looking at the group in amusement – and he brought the glass to his lips and drank the clear liquid at once, bringing the lime slice to his mouth right away to suck on it. 

“It’s easier if you don’t think about it,” Vax said in a whisper next to her, and Keyleth noticed his glass was still full. “Ready?” She nodded. Vax clinked his glass with hers, keeping eye contact, and, with a reassuring smile, he downed his drink at the same time she downed hers. 

Keyleth recognized the same flavor as the one in the tall glass Vex had ordered for her as the warmth spread down her throat. From the corner of her eye, she saw Vax was still looking at her, offering her a lime slice, which she took gladly and sucked the citric juices. That was a mistake. Keyleth shouldn’t have taken his offering. She thought the juices would somehow lessen the effect of the alcohol on her throat, but it did the opposite.

“Are you okay?” Pike asked, on the other side of her, as Keyleth coughed again.

“Yes,” She lied. She couldn’t tell if the short girl believed her because Vex was already up, pushing Percy to his feet with one hand and grabbing Scanlan with the other, who, in turn, was clutching Pike. 

“Let’s dance,” Vex shouted, grabbing her drinks and heading to the stairs. Pike, Grog, and Scanlan followed her immediately, both drinks in hand, but Percy stayed behind, sitting back on the bench in front of Keyleth and Vax. 

“I’m sorry, Vex-” Percy tried to apologize,

“I know my sister, Percival,” Vax took a sip of his drink. “You can go join them if you want. Keyleth and I will save the table.” 

Percy looked at Keyleth, who smiled reassuringly at him, and asked, “Will you be alright?”

“Yes, I will.” She blushed. She knew she would be as long as she was not left alone. 

“Just text me if you need anything, okay?” Percy grabbed her hand from the other side of the table, and Keyleth nodded. Percy followed the group up the stairs with one last glance at Vax, leaving his second shot glass behind on the table.

“Do you want to try my drink?” Vax asked, and Keyleth glanced at it nervously. “It’s sweet and fruity,” he added. She shrugged and leaned to take a sip. He was right, the alcohol was less noticeable, and it had a nice fruity taste.

“I like yours better,” Keyleth said, leaning back.

“Everyone loves sex on the beach,” Vax joked, wiggling his eyebrows at her, but Keyleth stared at him deadpan. “I-it’s the name-” Vax stuttered, obviously nervous, but she started laughing.

“I know. I was just teasing you.” She admitted, holding her stomach. Vax relaxed next to her, his body physically sagging against hers. 

“Here,” he slid his glass to her and took hers, taking a sip with a wince. “I fucking hate margaritas, but they are a cheap and easy way to get drunk.”

“Really?” Keyleth sipped on the fruity drink, much happier now. “Do you and Vex go out a lot?”

“We used to. There was a time when we would go out almost every week, and I hated every single time.”

“You’re a good brother,” Keyleth didn’t even have to ask why he went with Vex if he hated it so much. She knew Vax would do anything for his sister, even if it meant he would be miserable.

“Do you have siblings?” he asked, playing with the lime on the rim of his glass.

Keyleth tensed at the question and looked down at her lap. “Nope, only child.”

“Gods, you’re so lucky,” Vax bumped his shoulder against hers, and when she looked at him, he rolled his eyes, which made her chuckle. 

“Although my neighbor, Lia, has a son. He’s four, and he’s the sweetest boy ever. I’ve basically helped her raise him because his good-for-nothing father left her when he found out she was pregnant.”

“Hmm,” For some reason, Keyleth knew the unpleasant hum was not due to the drink Vax was sipping on. “I love douchebag fathers.” 

“Yeah, he was an ass. So I babysat that boy every day after school for four years. He’s like a little brother to me.” Keyleth’s heart clenched, thinking about the little boy’s green eyes filled with tears when she had to explain she was going away to college and wouldn’t be able to play with him after school every day anymore. He had cried all night cuddled with Keyleth, insisting he wanted to stay with her until she left but compromising with staying for the weekend.

“You okay?” Vax asked, clearly feeling her discomfort.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about him.”

“Tell me more about him,” He asked, bumping his shoulder to hers with a smile. 

Keyleth’s face opened in a smile as she told Vax about the little boy she had grown to love as her brother. They talked until the only liquid in their glasses was the water that melted from the ice cubes. Keyleth told Vax about the adventures they had together, how he was such a great helper in the garden, the cakes and desserts they baked every weekend, and how he was growing to be a fine gentleman who always offered to open the door for her, even when he could barely reach the handles.

Eventually, after almost an hour, Vex’ahlia came looking for them, outraged to see their shot glasses still standing full in front of them and taking the one Percy had left behind.

“You guys don’t have to stay here all night. There is enough room upstairs. Join us. And drink your shots!” She scolded them before she returned to the group. 

“I did promise I would have a drink with you,” Keyleth shrugged.

“You don’t have to,” Vax offered with a smile, but she was already licking the back of her hand. The second shot wasn’t as bad, maybe because she already knew what to expect, and it felt like it didn’t burn as much. 

“Let’s go dance, I guess?” 

Keyleth wasn’t sure if it had been the second shot or the fact that she had been sitting for a while, but as soon as she stood up, everything around her started spinning, and she felt like she was falling, straight into Vax’s arms, who had quickly realized what was happening.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.

“Everything is spinning,” Keyleth closed her eyes and let her head fall onto his chest. Vax tightened the grip on her, holding her upright.

“You got up too fast after drinking. Just take a moment.”

“I think I’m okay now,” Keyleth pulled away after a minute, no longer feeling the room spinning around her. “Let’s go dance.” She said with a bashful smile, holding Vax’s arm tightly and pulling him towards the stairs. 

Keyleth felt a different kind of warmth inside, a low buzz in her navel that made her want to stay close to Vax. His arms felt stronger than before when he held her, his chest was more comfortable than the other times she had leaned into it, and his scent was even more intoxicating. Keyleth was not an experienced drinker, so she assumed that whatever those feelings were, they were due to the alcohol and that everything would return to normal the next day. She wasn’t worried about the chill that traveled down her spine when Vax placed one hand on the small of her back as they climbed up the stairs – Keyleth had felt that before with him – what worried her was the warmth she felt in her lower abdomen and the new tingling sensation between her thighs. 

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt.1

Okay so this is gonna be a series. My FIRST series. So go easy on me pretty please. I’ve never written smut, and I know nobody wants badly written smut. So we’ll see about that. But this one is definitely gonna be more of a slow burn. Maybe 4 chapters? Yeah. I like that. 4 chapters. I’ve just been thinking about this idea for a while and I wanna get into writing. I hope someone likes this.

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3 (coming soon)

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT: 2k 

PART ONE

She’s so used to quiet in her quaint bedroom. The faint whirring of the air conditioner, sounds of footsteps and machinery being rolled outside her door, the music they would play for her when she was extra good that week.

So when she was awoken to gunshots and yelling, y/n was anxious and didn’t know what to do. She backed into the corner of the room furthest from the door and shut her eyes. Hopefully, if she stayed quiet and unseen, things would resolve itself, and she wouldn’t see any violence come her way.

Luckily for her, after what felt like hours later, the sounds quieted down. The gunshots were less frequent and finally came to a stop. She waited for a few moments before sitting on her bed with intentions of continuing her knitting. She wasn’t allowed many activities, but this was one luxury the Men didn’t mind since she hadn’t had any violent outbursts in a long time. She hated being shocked, and she liked knitting.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Minutes later, she could hear footsteps approaching her room. Too late to go back into her corner without being heard through the ‘doggie door’ the Men used to pass her food twice a day, she sat still and slowed her breathing.

‘Anything on that floor?’ She heard one male voice say from further away.

‘Not yet. Mostly supply closets on this floor, but I’ll check them all.’ Said a voice from much closer. He couldn’t have been more than 10 feet away from her door. She could tell they were American like her because they didn’t have the funny accents the Men all had. Gripping her plastic knitting needles tightly in one hand she braced herself for the intrusion.

Her door cracked open a little, then quickly opened all the way.

“Cap, you need to see this.” The man called over his shoulder. “Are you alright ma’am?”

“Yes. I’m fine, sir.” Her small voice replied, a little rough from lack of use, but still remarkably sweet.

“Who are you? Do you know where you are?” He approached her slowly, taking in her meager appearance, but also watching out for the pointy sticks she has a death grip on.

“My name is y/n. I’m in my room.” She replied. Starting to feel very uneasy by this stranger, but also not thinking that he would hurt him. She had been here for so long, it was strange seeing a tall, black man enter her bedroom. Only trainers and watchers were allowed to enter her bedroom.

“What is it?” Another, taller man asked, but his question was soon answered when his eyes landed on the girl sitting on her bed with her tucked gently under her. He immediately noticed her lack of decent clothing, and it caused a blush to creep up his neck.

“We have a girl here, possibly a hostage, maybe an experiment. She doesn’t look like she particularly wants to be rescued.” The first man said to the other, who’s slowly entering the room while trying not to stare at her thin, flimsy, cotton dress.

“Hi, I’m Steve, this is Sam. Do you know where you’re from?” The blonde man said to her while crouching down to be at her eye level. She nodded her head yes. “Well we’re the good guys. We’re here to save you. Do you want to come with us so we can take you home?”

She had to contemplate for a minute. It had been so long since she got here that she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave. These men looked sincere, but she knew if she left and was caught, she’d be punished terribly. But if the gunshots meant anything, there would be nobody to punish her. Which means she can’t stay regardless because there would be nobody to take care of her either.

“Did you kill my watchers?” She looked at the blond man after a few quiet seconds. Steve and Sam made eye contact and had a whole argument in silence before Sam spoke up.

‘Yes, we did. But they were bad men. They were keeping you here. But you’re free now. You just gotta follow us, and we’ll get you out of here.’ Sam said, gently. Not wanting her to think they’re cold blooded murderers, but also trying to rush this meeting along so they can board the quinjet, where the rest of the team was waiting.

Steve held one of his hands out to her, which she hesitantly took- knitting needles and purple ball of yarn in her other hand. She thought about grabbing her sweaters, but they weren’t kept in her room. Quite frankly, she had no idea where they were. The Men didn’t allow her to keep the things she learned to knit in her room. But they would give her back a sweater during the cold months. So she just followed the two men awkwardly. Them taking large, hard steps towards parts of the building she had never seen, and her dainty footsteps lagging behind. The trainers taught her to walk with a ladylike gait, on the balls of her feet with barely any pressure to her heels.

After many hallways and stairwells, they found themselves outside the building. The quinjet was parked close by, and y/n’s eyes almost jumped out of her head. Of course she had never seen anything like that before. The men led her onto the loading area which closed behind them.

“Take a break for sightseeing?” Said one man from the front of the jet. They couldn’t see her because of her small stature behind the two men.

“Actually, we found someone. Her name is y/n. She was in one of the rooms, top floor.” Steve said to the man, while fishing you out from behind his back.

She was met with eyes. Many pairs of eyes. All looking directly at her. Not used to all the attention, she looked down at her feet, which were bare as usual and slightly irritated from walking on various terrains. Her toes painted baby pink. Another luxury the Men allowed her. Some watchers were nicer than others. The shorter, fat one that came every other night would bring her a light, barely noticeable, polish that she was only allowed to put on her toes.

Being there wasn’t so terrible. She was 10 when they took her in 2006. She had a mom and older brother, and they lived in a town in Georgia. She often wonders what happened to them that morning when the Men put a rag over her face, and she woke up on a bed in the room that would become her new bedroom.

She didn’t leave the room often. There was a small bathroom across the hall from her room. The watcher would be standing guard outside her door, and she would let him know she would like to use the bathroom or bathe. He would have to stand in the room with her while she bathed, but after a while, they were kind enough to face the wall. She fought for a long time. Refusing to eat the food (which wasn’t terrible), screaming and crying, she even plotted the occasional failed attack. But then they started the shock therapy, and she learned. Being in that chair was brutal. Rewiring her brain into submission. Submission to the Men so they could train her. She had to be ready for the Soldat when he needed her. Why her? She didn’t ask and they didn’t tell her. She learned very quickly that she was only allowed to speak when spoken to.

Make the Soldat happy. That was her mission. She had been told that phrase so many times that she heard it in her sleep. She had never seen or met him, but she was being trained to be his. A possession he could have control over during the brief times he was unfrozen. She was to listen to him, obey, sleep with him, and just make him happy because the mind controlling words were having less and less of an effect, and the Men were afraid he would lash out and massacre them all.

But it doesn’t seem like she’ll be fulfilling her life goal after all because now she’s in the air with a group of people looking at her like she has two heads. A woman with pretty red hair, a man with a large bow, and a man with nice glasses towards the front of the jet, were on one side. On the other was a blond man with very long hair, standing up to talk to a man in a purple shirt, and a man sitting by himself with long brown hair. All of their stares were pointed at her, but his seemed to go through her. Like he had x-ray vision and could read her mind.

“Y/n, you can have a seat right there.” Sam said, pointing to an empty seat next to the redhead who only squinted at her. “That’s Natasha. She’s nicer than she looks.”

“No, I’m not.” She said, making eye contact with y/n. “But we’re glad to have you aboard.” Natasha finished, the slightest smile forming at the girl.

“Um... Cap, where are her clothes?” The man from before asked Steve.

“I don’t know. This is what she was wearing, and I didn’t see a wardrobe anywhere, Tony.” Steve sighed, obviously exasperated by even the thought of a conversation with Tony.

Tony looked at the girl expectantly. Was he waiting for her to chime in? Because he’d be waiting a long time. She was trained very well. Talking out of turn was one of the first rules she learned.

“Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you want something to cover up? We have blankets. What about water? You thirsty? Does she even understand a word I’m saying?” Tony’s last question was aimed at the men she entered with.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I’m alright, sir.” And if the team was trying to keep their staring inconspicuous at first, they completely abandoned that when she spoke. Her voice was so small and smooth. Just a little weak from not talking much.

“How about we get you a blanket anyway so I can be a little more comfortable” He nodded towards Sam who left the room and returned with a large blanket. She hadn’t realized how cold she was or that her nipples were pointing through her thin dress. Or that the cotton dress was really just a white slip that was damn near see through.

Maybe the grumpy looking man on the other side of the jet does have x-ray vision.

“Thank you, sir.” Everyone had to be called Sir. She hadn’t been around any women, but she was pretty sure if they looked as serious as the one next to her, she’d call them Ma’am.

“Tony is fine.” He smiled at her.

“Hey. I’m Clint, by the way.” The man on Natasha’s other side said, turning his body to address her. “So, umm... What were you doing up there? Are you working for Hydra?” Other members of the team groaned and scolded him for being so blunt, even though they were secretly happy he asked because they also wanted to know.

“I was knitting.” She said simply. She was going to leave it at that, but she could see the way Clint’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at her short reply. So she continued with the mantra she was raised with. “My purpose is to make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.”

She had never seen a room of people’s heads turn so fast. Eyes darting from her to the brooding man on the other side of the jet. He squinted his eyes, looking equally as confused.

She hadn’t realized that her mission was right in front of her.

part 2

[barry-j-blupjeans]

figured I'd just post all the drawing requests all at once :O

Roswell and Lucretia for two different anons Taako just for Me >:D Lup for @tentatively-positive-3 Mavis and Mookie for @catnip-warrior Taako and Kravitz (dancing :O!!) for @ceilingfan5 Zoox for @terezis and Amber for @kinetic-kinesis

Image ID below the cut!!

[Image ID: There are five images with various different TAZ characters.

The first image shows Roswell in the top corner and Lucretia in the bottom. Roswell is a figure wearing knight's armor, which is leaking red clay through the cracks. They had a vermilion flycatcher on their shoulder and are wearing a cowboy hat and a sheriff's badge, shaped like a star.

Lucretia is a young, dark-skinned woman with round glasses and her hair done up in two buns. She's wearing a yellow shirt and a blue skirt, with a red jacket over it.

The second image is of Taako, an elf with light brown skin and brown hair that fades into a pink-purple. He has freckles and green eyes. He's wearing a fuzzy green shirt and jeans with patches on them. He's looking at the camera and giving a peace sign.

The third image shows Lup on the top half and Mavis and Mookie on the bottom half. Lup is an elf with light brown skin with dark brown hair with red streaks. She's wearing a red robe. She's standing in front of a big fire. In the first panel, she's looking back at it. In the second, she's rubbing her neck and saying, "We should go."

Mavis and Mookie are two young dwarfs. Mavis is leading Mookie by the hand. She's the taller of the two and is wearing a green shirt with yellow shorts, as well as a brown bag slung over her shoulder. Her shoes are brown and her hair is light orange. She has the beginnings of a beard and browline glasses."

Mookie is smaller and is wearing a red shirt under denim overalls. He's got a small blue backpack that looks like a bear and his shoes are red. His hair is dark brown and messy, and he's pointing up at a green butterfly.

The fourth image is of Taako and Kravitz dancing. Taako is dipping Kravitz. Taako is an elf with light brown skin and dark hair that fades into a purple-pink color. He's wearing a pink hat with a yellow stripe and a pink coat with a yellow scarf. Under the coat is a turquoise shirt.

Kravitz is a dark-skinned man with his hair pulled back into a bun. He's wearing a purple shirt that looks like it says "#1 fan of Taako" in gold lettering. He's also wearing boxers with skulls on them. They're grinning and there's a speech bubble from Taako with a heart and a question mark. Below that, Kravitz's speech bubble is a heart with two exclamation points.

The background behind them is a green circle with a very simple drawing of a kitchen.

In the fifth and final image, Amber and Zoox are talking. Amber has a speech bubble of a shark with a red crossed-out circle over it. Amber is an orange tiefling with one broken horn and one horn that curves up. She's got multiple scars and graying brown hair. She's wearing a black tank top.

Zoox is a Brinarr designed to fit an old diver's suit. There's yellow brain coral as his head. Their suit is primarily teal, with accents of silver, yellow, and pink. Their coral is shaped in such a way to make it look like they are laughing at something Amber has said.

The background behind them is a green circle. END ID]

[pines-troz]

Weekend With The Warners Chapter Four - Animaniacs & Pinky and The Brain

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids. 

TW: This chapter features a brief scene of vomiting near the second half. It doesn't go into great detail, but I would rather highlight this now in case anyone is squeamish or uncomfortable with that.

Word Count: 9,664

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/70318416

The golden rays of the morning sun seeped through the curtains of the hotel room. The Warner siblings slept peacefully in the queen bed near the door. On the other bed, Pinky stirred in his sleep. Crinkling his nose, the tall mouse awoke from his peaceful slumber. As Pinky batted away the sleepiness from his eyes, his gaze focused on the one thing he loved most in this world: Brain, still fast asleep making that cute whistling sound while he snored. The smaller mouse nestled his chubby head close to Pinky, clinging onto his chest with a fistful of fur on his right hand. Pinky watched as Brain’s body moved with each breath he took, utterly mesmerized by his peacefulness. The lanky mouse’s blue eyes trailed to the small river of drool pooled on his purple robe. Another trait of Brain he found to be absolutely endearing. 

Pinky smiled at his sleeping partner. Brain was usually grumpy and grouchy when he was awake, but all of that melted away when he slept. Instead of a scowl, Brain snoozed with a contented smile. There was a serenity to the eloquent mouse’s face that revealed his soft and vulnerable side, the part of him he always tried to conceal. It was that softness combined with Brain’s desire to anchor himself onto his partner that captivated the taller mouse’s heart. 

“Poit! Brain looks so adorable when he’s asleep!” Pinky thought to himself as he gazed at his partner with adoring eyes. 

The lanky mouse was so enamored with his slumbering partner that he was compelled to shower him with love. Pinky quickly planted a kiss on Brain’s forehead, hoping this small gesture wouldn’t disturb him in the slightest. But the smaller mouse’s nose twitched upon feeling the tender kiss and his eyes fluttered. As Brain slowly awoke from his rest to find Pinky smiling at him. 

“Good morning, Pinky.” Brain mumbled sleepily. 

“Good morning Brain!” Pinky lovingly replied as he leaned in and nuzzled his nose into Brain’s. The smaller mouse chuckled contentedly at the affectionate gesture. 

Brain’s eyes darted downwards to his hand, still gripped onto his partner’s chest. He noticed the pool of saliva on Pinky’s robe and blushed. Using the sleeve from his blue robe, he wiped away the excess drool from the corner of his mouth. After cleaning himself, Brain let out a huge yawn as he stretched out his arms. He slowly got up from his sleeping position and started to scratch his back, but stopped when he felt a warm hand caress his forearm.

“Oh Brain, don’t get up just yet. Can’t we spend five more minutes in bed together?” Pinky pleaded softly. Brain looked at his partner���s sparkling blue eyes. He would surely be a cad to refuse such an enticing request. Entranced by Pinky’s soft sapphire stare, Brain gave him a tired smile. Pinky received his answer when he felt his partner pull him close, resting his large cranium against his chest. Pinky’s cheeks warmed when Brain snuggled up to him. 

“Ten more minutes, Pinky.” Brain responded with a blissful sigh. The pudgy mouse contentedly closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around his partner. Pinky smiled at Brain and closed his eyes, cherishing the loving gesture. Pinky gently wrapped his arms around Brain. The bed felt so much warmer now. 

The two mice held each other close. Brain wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he returned to his partner’s warm and loving embrace. Ten minutes, twenty minutes perhaps. But he didn’t care. 

“You know Pinky, I could stay like this forever…” Brain sighed as he tightened his hold around Pinky, snuggling up to his partner. The taller mouse hummed in agreement. But Pinky soon thought of something that would go against his partner’s proclamation. 

“But Brain, what about taking over the world?” Pinky asked softly with a worried expression. 

There was a moment of silence before Brain came up with a compelling response. Liberating his right hand from underneath his partner’s back, Brain gently cupped Pinky’s left cheek and stared into his beautiful blue eyes. “How foolish of you to assume that I haven’t done so already.” He said with a sly smile. 

Pinky’s brows shifted to a bemused expression while he took his left hand and placed it over Brain’s hand. “What do you mean?” 

Brain hoisted himself over Pinky, pulling himself closer to his partner until foreheads touched. “To put it simply, you are my world Pinky...” He admitted right before he leaned in for a kiss. 

Pinky was stunned to hear such a proclamation from Brain. He was aware of how important his dream of world domination was for the ambitious mouse. But for Brain to hold Pinky in such high regard made him feel all soft and gooshy. Once their lips broke away, the lanky mouse gazed into his partner’s rose-pink eyes. 

“Naaarf.” Pinky purred as he felt Brain tuck himself underneath his chin once more. Both mice closed their eyes again and resumed their peaceful embrace, resting for ten minutes more. 

But the intimate moment between the murine beaus was shattered when a big pillow fell on top of them with a quiet thud. Their screams were muffled as they were engulfed by the surprisingly soft darkness. The mice tried to escape, but the pillow was quickly lifted off of them. Pinky and Brain looked up to see Wakko, still in their blue footie pajamas, swiftly holding the pillow behind their back. Dot stood by holding her smartphone. 

“Oops, sorry dads.” Wakko sheepishly apologized. “I was actually aiming at Dot because she was acting like a creep!” He explained while pointing at their little sister. 

“I wasn’t acting like a creep!” Dot growled at the middle child, flashing her fangs. “I just happened to notice how cute they looked and wanted to capture the magical moment.”

“Ooh, could I see?” Pinky asked eagerly, clapping his hands. The Warner sister’s anger melted away upon hearing the mouse’s cockney accent. She turned to face the mice with a bubbly smile and sparkling eyes. 

“Well, of course, Pinky!” Dot happily replied with a charming smile. She showed the mice a series of photos of them entangled in their embrace as they snoozed together. As she swiped her finger across the phone, each picture proved to be more endearing than the last. 

Pinky’s blue eyes glistened as he gazed at the pictures. “Aww Brain, we look so cute together!” He gushed as he patted his partner on the shoulder. 

Brain while secretly thought that Dot had a good eye for detail and captured their beautiful moments of intimacy, merely rolled his eyes and turned his attention towards the Warner sister. “Promise me that you won’t post those photographs on social media?” He begged with pleading eyes. 

“You have my word!” Dot affirmed. “I already posted your lovely duet from last night on most social media platforms, which is trending last I checked.” 

“You what?!?” Brain screeched with bulging eyes as color flooded his cheeks. 

“Here, let me show you.” Dot explained as she pulled up the Insta-Gratification app on her phone. Brain and Pinky watched themselves sing passionately on Yakko’s palms while he zoomed around the room. Brain’s anger simmered down as he relived the magical moment from a third-person perspective. Even Wakko took a seat next to their rodent guardians as they watched the duet play out. Once the video ended, Pinky stood up and clapped. “Encore! Encore!” He chirped. 

“And just look at these accolades.” Dot added as she scrolled down the comment section, which was flooded with colorful heart emojis, thumbs-ups, mice, stars, and various smiley faces. 

Pinky’s eyes lit up as he gazed at the parade of positive emojis. The lanky mouse was thrilled that the world loved Brain’s singing as much as he did. Perhaps he should repurpose his social media account from teaching the world how to wrap their toes with various foods to one where he and Brain could sing along to Top 40 hits! Brain simply nodded at the praise. Despite his insecurity over his own singing, he preferred to be trending over a lovely duet with his partner rather than being assaulted by the various elevated mountain ranges on the globe. 

“Okay, I’ll let this one slide.” The eloquent mouse firmly declared. “But from now on, all videos and photographs you capture of me must receive my consent before you showcase them to the world.” 

“You got it!” Dot comprehended with a thumbs up. 

The bathroom door swung open and Yakko emerged, still in his green pajamas. He had a toothbrush in his mouth and some specks of toothpaste on the sides of his lips. “What’s all the commotion?” He mumbled through the toothbrush. 

“Dot was creeping on Pinky and The Brain while they were having a romantic moment!” Wakko shouted, pointing at their sister. 

“Wakko assaulted Pinky and The Brain with a pillow and destroyed their moment of intimacy!” Dot cried out simultaneously, pointing at her sibling. 

Before Yakko could act as a mediator between his younger siblings, Brain stepped forward and interceded. “Now now, Pinky and I understand that you two had no malicious intentions for startling us from our slumber. So please cease your quarreling and get dressed already.” Brain addressed the siblings in a slightly stern tone. “We have a long day ahead of us, and I’m certain that we’re all eager to have some continental breakfast downstairs.” 

Yakko took out his toothbrush and pointed it at Wakko and Dot. “Alright sibs, you heard Casanova. Let’s get goin’!” Yakko advised in his ‘responsible-big-brother’ tone. He quickly turned his attention over to the mice and flashed a playful smile and pointing finger guns at them. Brain frowned at the realization that the oldest Warner most definitely peeked in on his romantic moment with his partner. Pinky eagerly returned the gesture by pointing his finger guns while making beeping sounds. 

The mere mention of breakfast excited Wakko, who hopped over the bed and right into his suitcase to get dressed. Seconds later, he leaped out of the suitcase, dressed in his regular attire. Yakko ran back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Dot noticed this and barged over to the door, angrily banging for her brother to open up. The doorknob jiggled and Yakko exited the bathroom dressed in his brown slacks. 

“Patience, dearest sister,” Yakko playfully quipped as he walked past Dot. The Warner sister let out a humph as she strode into the bathroom. About a minute later, Dot emerged from the bathroom wearing her pink skirt. The girl smiled as she adjusted her yellow flower hair tie. 

Pinky and Brain simply took off their robes and tossed them onto the bed. Brain climbed up the robotic suit and hopped into the pilot seat. After their run-in with those pesky punks from the previous night, the mouse knew that it was wise to take precautions and arm himself with his technologically advanced suit in case they were to run in any trouble. He guided the suit over to the nightstand to retrieve the hotel key, placing it safely into his pocket.

Pinky bounced over to the Warner siblings, where Wakko picked him up and placed him on top of their red hat. Soon everyone exited the room, with Brain closing the door behind him. 

As they walked down the hall, Wakko and Dot skipped merrily down the hall while Yakko took Brain aside. “I know who you li-ike!” He sang to the tune schoolyard chant children use to tease others. 

Brain looked over at Yakko and gave a feigned shocked reaction. “Well shoot, you discovered my deepest, darkest secret.” He drawled sarcastically. “I’m romantically enamored with the mouse I’ve been dating for the past few months.” 

Yakko chuckled and back slapped Brain’s robotic suit. “For all the years that I’ve known you, I never assumed you’d be the romantic type.” He remarked. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Yakko.” Brain retorted. 

“Now you sound like you’re hiding some actual deep dark secrets there, Brain.” Yakko bantered. “Have you made any powerful enemies? Murder a man? Plague your internet history by visiting some saucy websites?” 

The eloquent mouse released an exasperated sigh but decided that it was better to humor the boy by satiating his curiosity. “To answer your inquiries: The Yakuza are still on my trail, no, and yes, but I’ll have you know that I only visited those websites for research purposes.” Brain answered dryly. 

“Uh-huh, sure. ‘Research purposes’.” Yakko replied with a sly smile and waggling eyebrows. He quickly retrieved a pen and notebook from his pocket. “Now before I forget, wherein that big old head of yours did you come up with those swoon-worthy pickup lines, and can you give this hopeless romantic some pointers?”  

Brain let out another exhausted sigh. “I hate to rain on your parade, Yakko, but I’m not in the mood to instruct you on the art of wooing potential romantic partners.” He gently declined. “Perhaps some other time when we’re not mozying about in public.” 

“Right, you don’t wanna freely give away your valuable advice to any curious onlookers.” Yakko understood as he put away his pen and notebook. 

The elevator opened and Wakko, Dot, and Pinky filed in. Wakko held their foot out by the door while Yakko and Brain entered the elevator. Once everyone was inside, the elevator doors closed and they made their descent. 

The mice and the Warners enjoyed a contented continental breakfast together. Yakko had a stack of pancakes covered in syrup. Wakko had three plates full of waffles, eggs, french toast, and bacon. Dot enjoyed a nice plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast. Pinky and Brain both had a plate of eggs and onion bagels smothered with cream cheese. 

After they finished their meals, they made their way through the lobby and exited the hotel. 

Once they hit the streets, Wakko and Dot immediately grabbed onto Brain’s robotic hands while Yakko placed Pinky on his shoulder. He bounced in front of Brain and started to walk backward, casually placing his hands behind his head. 

“So Brain, what’s on the docket for today?” Yakko asked with a playful smile. 

“Well, I’ve already planned out an extensive schedule of engaging activities, with some input from Pinky.” Brain took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over to Yakko. The eldest Warner opened up the paper and read the schedule the older mouse created whilst Wakko and Dot sprinted over towards their older brother and looked over his shoulders. 

10:00 AM - Visit the Library

12:00 PM - Lunch at Denny’s 

1:30 PM - Go to the Movies

4:00 PM - Stroll through the Mall

6:30 PM - Dinner at The Puce Fedora

8:30 PM - Return to the Hotel 

“Taking you kids out to Denny’s was my idea! Troz!” Pinky chirped while looking at Yakko. 

“Well sibs, looks like we have a busy day ahead of us,” Yakko commented as he glanced at Wakko and Dot. “Then lead the way, my good man.” The oldest Warner addressed Brain with a dramatic bow, gesturing his arm towards their path. 

Wakko and Dot then perched themselves on the right and left shoulders of the robotic suit, with Brain settled between the siblings. “Onwards!” Dot commanded, pointing out to the horizon. Wakko flashed an eager grin with their tongue bouncing out. 

Brain looked over at the cheerful siblings on his robotic shoulders. “As you wish,” The eloquent mouse replied with an amused grin. 

The group walked through the city streets, with Brain shifting the controls to keep up with Yakko’s pace. The mouse noticed the fascinated glances from the other pedestrians and onlookers that passed by. The mouse ignored their curious stares and kept his attention on Yakko, who was showing off his parkour skills to an easily-impressed Pinky. The taller mouse carefully held on tight as the eldest Warner demonstrated his great athleticism. Yakko swung on the lamppost and flung himself onto the mailbox and did a backflip, landing gracefully on his feet near the edge of the sidewalk. Wakko and Dot clapped at their brother’s performance. Yakko turned to his audience and bowed. Brain gave the eldest Warner an impressed smile.

“Egad Yakko, that was amazing!” Pinky praised. “Hey, I should give this parker thing a try!” The lanky mouse hopped off of Yakko’s shoulder.

“Actually, it’s pronounced Parkour, Pinky.” Yakko gently corrected the enthusiastic mouse.  

Brain looked over at his partner with a skeptical expression on his face. “I don’t think that’s a particularly wise idea Pinky.” He warned. “You already pulled the muscle in your head, and the last thing I need is for you to injure yourself further.”

“Oh fiddleyposh,” Pinky dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m in great shape for someone my age!” 

The tall mouse eagerly hopped from the sidewalk’s edge shouting “Parkour!” before landing flat on the street with a hard thud. The Warners and Brain winced at Pinky’s rough landing. The mouse tried to pick himself back upon his feet but felt hissed at the painful bruises from his fall. “I’m fine!” He assured the others. 

Brain shook his head. Using the controls in his suit, he gently picked Pinky up with his metallic hand and carefully placed him in his coat pocket. The mouse steered the controls and continued to walk down the sidewalk, with Wakko and Dot perched on his shoulders. Yakko followed suit and kept up with the robotic suit at a casual pace. 

Ten minutes later, the group approached the main grounds in front of the Central Library. The Warners oohed and ahhed as they walked through the Maguire Gardens, observing the trees and the shallow pools that lined the small stairwells. Their eyes scanned upwards beyond the trees that filled the park and to the building, whose grand tower was crowned with a mosaic pyramid. 

“Ah, the public library.” Brain sighed blissfully as he gestured towards the building. “The beacon of literacy, accessibility, and community. A place where people of all backgrounds can easily access books and other materials for free use as well as utilizing other programs and services.” 

“So in other words, they’re socialist book lenders.” Yakko quipped with a smug smile. 

Brain’s brows furrowed at the smart aleck’s comment until he realized that the teen had a valid point. “More or less.” He answered while waving his robotic hand. 

When they approached the doors, Wakko and Dot hopped off of Brain’s robotic shoulders and landed both feet on the ground. The siblings then held onto Brain’s hands, with Wakko holding the right hand and Dot holding the left hand. Yakko opened up the door and allowed Brain and his siblings to enter first. 

Once the group entered the library, they were in awe of the beauty and grand scale of the interior. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot bounced along the black and white checkered tile floor as they marveled at the magnificent interior design of the library. Brain already took into account what kinds of shenanigans the Warners, and by extension Pinky, would partake in without his supervision. Bouncing around the quiet areas and potentially plotting revenge against anyone who would dare be rude to them. After careful consideration of the varying scenarios, he concluded that it would be best if they stayed in the children’s section, where the rules concerning indoor voices and energetic movement were not as strict. 

The mouse guided the siblings away from the more austere sections of the library and towards the vibrant and inviting aura of the children’s section. They ventured over to the children’s section, which was more colorful and inviting. The Warners gazed at the various soft sofas, colorful posters promoting various library programs appealing to different age demographics, and gorgeous displays promoting new books. They learned from various TV shows and movies that libraries were mostly authoritarian places where silence was always enforced upon patrons by stuck-up librarians. But they saw many young children talking and giggling to their friends and parents at a reasonable volume and decided that libraries could be fun and weren’t as bad as the media made it out to be. 

Brain noticed how entranced the siblings were and allowed a smile to escape. “Enchanting, is it not?” He humored. “Now that we’re here, I’m sure we’ll make the most of our time at the library. And the first order of business is to obtain some library cards.” 

“Yay! More snacks!” Wakko exclaimed. 

“No, Wakko, they’re not meant for consumption.” Brain told the middle child. “Library cards are used to check out books, movies, CDs, and other materials so you could bring them home for a reasonable period of time before returning them.” 

“Oh,” Wakko noted, nodding their head in understanding. “I think I get it. So I use the library card to take out the library books, and then I get to eat the books!” 

Brain simply shook his head, causing the middle child to let out a disappointed sigh. 

The group approached the front desk and were greeted by a young librarian who had wavy brown hair in a loose ponytail, wore pink round glasses, a rainbow-striped long-sleeve shirt, a long magenta skirt and glittering star earrings. The Warners were immediately captivated by the librarian’s vibrant appearance. Perhaps not all librarians were uptight middle-aged snobs. Another library stereotype had been shattered. 

The librarian noticed the mice and the Warner siblings walk up towards the desk and she immediately greeted them with a friendly smile. “Good morning!” 

“Good morning Miss Librarian!” The Warners and Pinky chorused. 

Pinky climbed out of the suit’s front pocket and hopped on the table. He approached the librarian with a friendly smile. “Yes, I would like to order a number four meal with extra cheese and no onions, and-” But Brain squeezed Pinky into his fist (a little harder than he intended) to shut him up. 

“Forgive my partner’s inane ramblings,” Brain apologized as he placed Pinky into his coat pocket, giving him a gentle pat on the head to compensate for his earlier transgression. “My children here are eager to have their very own library cards.” The mouse said as he gestured towards the siblings. The mouse took another glance at the rambunctious kids clamored by the desk. The jubilant faces were evidence enough that they took no offense to his statement. 

“Yes,” The small mouse pondered, “they are my children…” 

“Alrighty, let me get you the registration forms and you kids will be all set!” The Librarian replied as she opened up the drawer in her desk and retrieved the necessary papers. 

The Warners accepted the forms and quickly filled out their information. They handed their papers over to the librarian who typed in the information into the computer. After a couple of minutes of waiting, she authorized three library cards and gave them to the siblings. The Warners eagerly took their library cards, and Brain courteously thanked the librarian for her service. 

Yakko played around with his library card in his hands, smiling at the prospect of taking out new books to read. Wakko licked his library card before giving an ambivalent shrug, placing the card underneath their red cap. 

Dot eagerly grabbed her own library card and inspected it. The realization dawned on her that she could borrow any book she would like for free as well as picking out any book she desired from the library’s vast catalog. “So this is what true power feels like...” She said to herself with a devilish grin. 

Brain noticed the Warner sister’s excitement and flashed his own manic grin. “Yes! Let the power of book borrowing privileges seep into your very soul!” The small mouse encouraged. He let out an evil laugh and was surprised to find Dot joining in with her own dark chuckling. 

Pinky watched the two chuckle and an astounding realization came to him. “So that’s what King Arthur meant when he said ‘having fun isn’t hard when you’ve got a library card’! Narf!” The lanky mouse exclaimed. 

Brain ceased his laughter upon hearing Pinky’s misquote. “Pinky, King Arthur never said that, and there was certainly no mention of library cards in any variation of the Arthurian Legend!” He berated. “That quote was from that Arthur cartoon you’re so fond of!” 

The lanky mouse took a moment to register that information. “Oh, I guess it is...poit!” 

Yakko tapped his sister’s shoulder, who immediately turned to face her older brother. She joined him and Wakko as they started to explore the children’s section. Pinky hopped out of Brain’s pocket as he journeyed over to the picture book section. 

Yakko and Dot excitedly explored the shelves, eager to pick up some books for leisure reading. Wakko trailed behind as he did not share the same enthusiasm for reading as their siblings. As the middle child darted their eyes around the many shelves, he spotted a few circular tables near the reference desk, all of which had scrap paper and a box filled with colored pencils and crayons. 

Wakko immediately went over to the coloring table. He decided that he would spend their visit drawing. The middle child took a blue colored pencil and tapped their red hat, thinking of a perfect picture. After a moment of pondering, he became inspired. Taking a sheet of paper, Wakko grabbed a handful of colored pencils and went straight to work. He was determined to make an artistic masterpiece worthy enough to be displayed on the refrigerator door. The middle child was so focused on their work that he failed to listen to the pattering footsteps encroaching the table. 

“Aren’t you gonna look for a book?” Yakko asked his younger sibling. 

“Maybe later,” Wakko answered with a twinge of worry in their voice. Truth be told, he didn’t want to go through the stress of picking out a book he knew he wasn’t going to enjoy or take the time to finish. Instead, Wakko turned their attention back to the drawing. The middle child settled down at the table. “I’ve got some drawing to do!” 

“Okie-Dokie,” Yakko replied, holding his hands behind his back as he strolled through the children’s section. 

Over in the teen section, Dot perused through the shelves to find any popular YA novels but found the process to be quite arduous. Teen romances were either hit or miss, dystopian novels weren’t her cup of tea, and she greatly disliked any books told from the first-person perspective. However, the Warner sister managed to spot a few poetry books that seemed promising and a couple of mystery novels with intriguing set-ups. Dot sauntered over to one of the leather chairs and made herself comfortable. She opened up one of the poetry books and began to read. 

Unbeknownst to her, Brain took a quick glance over the shoulder of his suit to see her silently reading. The mouse was impressed to learn Dot’s bookish nature and her willingness to engage in more challenging reading material. 

The mouse then walked towards the nonfiction section to find Yakko browsing through the 900s books. The Warner brother picked up a book and inspected it, but ultimately decided that it didn’t catch his interest and returned it to its original spot. 

“Find anything of interest?” Brain addressed, trying to act as casual as possible by leaning on the shelf but figured that he looked like a complete goober. 

“Not yet,” Yakko answered. “but hopefully I’ll find some books on a specific person or time period to write some catchy educational songs about them.” 

“Good to know,” Brain nodded. He swerved the controls of the suit and continued to explore the shelves, allowing Yakko to resume his search for decent books. 

The mouse ventured into the fiction section in search of a particular novel in mind. Using the signs indicating the first letter of the last names, Brain moved towards the shelves where all the authors with last names starting with the letter S. With a pointed finger, he guided the metallic hand over to find a particular novel from a particular author. 

“Come on, come on…” He muttered as he trailed through the So’s over to the Sp’s until he landed on the book by Johanna Spyri. “Aha!” Brain cheered as he retrieved the book from the shelf and laid eyes on one of the greatest pieces of literature. He gazed at the illustrated little girl with curly brown hair in a red dress playing with two white goats on the grassy mountains of the Swiss Alps. “Heidi!” 

Gripping the book close to the robot’s chest, Brain decided to check to see how Pinky was faring. He hoped by Odin’s beard that his eccentric partner wasn’t causing too much trouble on his own. 

When Brain emerged from the fiction section, he was pleasantly surprised to find Pinky running up to him while lifting two books above his head. “Oh Brain, can I please get these beautiful books!” He asked as he dropped the books to show his partner. One had a picture of a family of bunnies wearing sweaters while the other book featured a parade of colorful elephants holding their tails together as they marched across a grassy plain. 

“Of course you can, Pinky,” Brain answered. “And need I remind you that despite your child-like mannerisms, you’re a grown adult with agency.”

“That’s odd, I don’t recall having an agent.” Pinky mused aloud. “Brain, do you think James Bond would be interested in being my agent? Or maybe one of the Spy Kids could be up for the job!” 

“No Pinky,” Brain groaned as he massaged his forehead. “what I mean is that you are an independent individual who is capable of making decisions of your own free will. In other words, you don’t need my permission to take out whatever books you want.”

“Oh, okay!” Pinky chirped with some comprehension of what Brain told him. 

With a shrug, Brain walked over to the table where Wakko was hunched over as he worked on his illustration. When the middle child spotted the mice approaching, he quickly turned their picture over flat on the table. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Wakko?” Brain pleasantly asked. Pinky sprinted to catch up with his partner while carrying his books. Brain noticed his partner doing his best to lift up the books and quickly confiscated them from his tiny paws, placing them underneath his library book. 

“Yep!” Wakko eagerly nodded with their tongue out. “I’ve been working on my magnum opus! It’s still a work in progress, but I’ll show you once it’s finished.” 

“Ah, I see,” Brian noted with a smile. “Well, aren’t you going to find a book or two while we’re still here?” The pudgy mouse inquired. 

“Nah,” Wakko answered with uncertainty. He tucked their hands into the sleeves of their sweater and kneaded their fingers through the soft cotton. 

“What’s wrong?” Brain asked. 

Wakko nervously wrung his hands through his sweater sleeves and looked up at the big-headed mouse. “If I tell you, can you promise not to tell anyone else about this?”

“You have my word.” Brain solemnly replied. 

“Books can be kinda intimidating, you know?” Wakko blurted out. “There are too many words, and they don’t grab my attention.” 

Brain looked at the child with concern, raising his bushy brow upwards. “Well, I’m certain that there has to be at least one book that’s tailored to your interests.” He insisted. “What types of genres do you enjoy most?” 

Wakko rubbed their chin as they pondered. “Well, I did try to read some sci-fi and fantasy books, but they were too wordy and I couldn’t understand what was going on. And Yakko tried to give me a couple of easy-reader books, but they were too boring!” The middle child let out a dejected groan. “I don’t get it. Dot’s younger than me and she can read all these heavy young adult books and I can’t even bring myself to read a lousy chapter book!” Feeling overwhelmed, Wakko buried their head into their sweater sleeves. 

Pinky was saddened by Wakko’s plight and decided to help them as best as he could. After a moment of thinking, the mouse thought of an idea. He looked up at the middle child with an optimistic grin as he showcased his library books. “Oh Wakko, you should try reading these wonderful board books. There aren’t a lot of words and you can look at the pretty pictures! Zort!”

“But those are baby books!” Wakko complained. “I don’t think there are any books that are made for me!” He then buried their face in the crook of their elbow and let out a hopeless sigh. 

Brain gazed at the downtrodden Warner sibling and pondered. He needed to figure out a way to alleviate the middle child’s dilemma. The eloquent mouse scanned the library shelves and found a section dedicated to graphic novels. Perhaps those books should suit Wakko’s needs and capture their attention. 

“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Brain whispered to his partner. 

“Sure Brain, but did they ever show us how to get to Sesame Street?” Pinky mused aloud. 

“While that’s an admittedly fascinating rumination dear Pinky, we have more pressing matters to attend to.” Brain stated as he gestured his head towards Wakko. 

The smaller mouse approached the middle child and gently placed his robotic hand on their shoulder. “I think I found some books that you might be interested in.” Brain gently prodded. Wakko hesitantly followed the mouse over to the bookshelves full of graphic novels. 

Brain glided the metallic finger across the various book titles until he found one that would interest Wakko. Hilda and the Troll. The mouse took out the graphic novel from the shelf and handed it over to the middle child. 

Wakko’s eyes shone brightly as he stared at the book’s cover, which featured a young girl with blue hair wearing a black beret standing in front of the snowy mountains with her cute animal companion. He gingerly opened up the book and was immediately captivated by the artwork. 

“What is this?” Wakko asked with wonder. 

“Why, dear Wakko, what you are holding is a graphic novel.” Brain answered with an encouraging smile. “A literary phenomenon that utilizes comics content to tell cohesive stories similar to typical novels.” 

The middle child carefully read the page, following the text and admiring the illustrations “Woah, this has easy to follow words and pictures!” Wakko exclaimed. “And they’re real books?”

“Graphic novels are novels, Wakko.” Brain reassured the child, patting their head with his robotic hand. 

“Great! I’m gonna take ten!” Wakko cheered. He perused through the shelves and picked out a handful of books that piqued his curiosity. After taking out the rest of the Hilda series from the shelf, he picked out Roller Girl, Ghosts, and three books from the Dog Man series. Wakko wore a jubilant grin as he gathered their graphic novels while Brain and Pinky smiled at the middle child’s revived enthusiasm for reading. 

Meanwhile, in the teen section, Dot was invested in her book. Yakko saw his sister and decided to sneak up on her. He tip-toed over to the teen section and carefully approached the couch. He had his arms out, ready to scare his little sister-

“Hey Yakko,” Dot said as she looked over at her older brother. Yakko brought his arms down and snapped his fingers in defeat. 

“So I see you have your books,” Yakko mentioned, trying to change the subject. 

“Yep!” Dot chirped as she hopped off the couch. “How about you?” 

“I picked out a few books,” Yakko explained as he held them up. “One on European architecture, another on the Renaissance, and a book on the Sixties.” The oldest Warner also held up two paperback books from his stack. “I also picked out a couple of those Captain Underpants books for Wakko just in case.” 

Dot nodded in approval. “Speaking of which, we should probably find them.” As the brother and sister walked back together, they were pleasantly surprised to see Wakko carrying a pile of books. 

“Since when did you become an eager reader?” Dot asked playfully. 

“Ever since Brain showed me the magical world of graphic novels! They’re like comic books, but formatted like a novel.” Wakko explained with the confidence of a college professor. 

“Nice!” Yakko replied, elated by his sibling’s excitement. “I also got you a couple of books that you might like.” 

Wakko looked at the Captain Underpants books and smiled. “Oh cool! I can read those too.”

Pinky and Brain quickly joined the Warner siblings. “So is everyone all set?” Brain asked. 

“Uh-huh.” The Warners chorused while nodding their heads. 

“Excellent! At this rate, we’ll be able to check out our books and arrive at Denny’s at a much earlier time than I had planned.” The big-headed mouse mentioned as he started to leave. The siblings eagerly bounced behind. 

-                           -                          -                          -                           -

The group arrived at Denny’s at around 11:45 AM and were quickly seated in one of the booths. As they waited for their meals, the Warners and the mousey couple decided to pass the time by swapping stories. 

Yakko divulged some unusual anecdotes, from a wild goose-chase over who stole Wakko’s donuts from the designer donut shop to the crazy hunter who turned out to be Chicken Boo in disguise. 

The mice listened carefully to the ‘whodonut’ story. While Brain was not the least bit surprised to find out that Wakko was the one who consumed the box of donuts, Pinky thought it was a plot twist for the ages. However, Brain was shocked to learn that the hunter bent on capturing all of the Animaniacs cast members was none other than Chicken Boo. He and Pinky admittedly didn’t spend as much time with the giant chicken during the show’s original run, but Brain must have suspected the twinge of jealousy in the poultry’s eyes when the mice and the Warner children received carts full of fan mail on a weekly basis while he only received a few letters during the five years the show was on the air. The latter story prompted Brain and Pinky to explain their run-in with their weirdly deranged former co-worker. They were heading back to the lab from a candle-lit dinner date, holding hands when they were spotted by a peculiar man with a mustache. The mice were able to evade capture by using decoys. Brain put a nice paint job on his spare Noodle Noggin doll and retrieved old Pinky plushie made in the nineties to trick the hunter into thinking that he caught them. 

Dot engaged the mice in one of her other anecdotes where she consumed a kawaii cupcake that turned everyone and everything into an adorably cute version of themselves. Pinky and Brain also remembered that fateful month and told the Warners about how their reactions to their cuteness.

When the mice first took a glance at their kawaii forms, Pinky was overwhelmed with excitement at how cute Brain was and wanted to show the world how cute he was. Brain was inspired by Pinky’s proclamation and tried to use his and Pinky’s cuteness to take over the world. But the mouse was dismayed when he learned that it had no effect in an already cute world. Brain spent the rest of the month thinking about his new form was reminiscent of the disgustingly saccharine artwork from the ‘Pinky-Winky and Brainy-Wainy’ pitch he heard from a pair of aspiring TV writers during a failed scheme from the nineties. It didn’t help that Pinky remembered the theme song and kept singing it. 

“They’re Pinky and Brainy! They’re Winky and Wainy!” Pinky gleefully belted out.

Brain placed his hand on Pinky’s cheek, ceasing his singing. “Quiet Pinky or I shall have to hug you.” He commanded, which elicited some chuckles from the Warners. 

As they shared their stories, Wakko eagerly read one of his graphic novels. Brain was pleased to see the middle child so invested in their library books.  

By the time they got their food, everyone was mostly content with their food. As they ate, Brain noticed how Dot grimaced as she consumed her lunch. When Yakko asked her if she was okay, the Warner sister shrugged it off. But the big-headed mouse could see the pain she concealed with her adorable face. 

Once Pinky finished his meal, he excused himself to use the restroom. A few minutes later, Pinky was skipping towards the booth when a middle-aged man and woman were appalled by the fact that a mouse was in the restaurant. The woman shrieked while the man violently kicked the poor mouse into the drywall. 

Brain and the Warners were horrified by the assault. The smaller mouse quickly approached his partner, gently plucking him from the wall and cradling him in his robotic hands. Brain exited from the driver’s seat, scurried down the right arm, and carefully draped Pinky over his lap as he inspected his injuries. 

“Pinky, please speak to me!” Brain cried out. 

“Naaarf…” Pinky uttered. He looked over to his partner and cupped his chubby cheeks. Brain was relieved that Pinky was okay. 

The Warners sadly gazed at the mice with sympathetic eyes. They then turned their attention towards the perpetrators and snarled. The careless couple exited the restaurant with no remorse for what they’ve done. The siblings retrieved their weapons; Yakko took out his pen, Wakko retrieved his wooden mallet, and Dot flashed her flamethrower. 

Pinky and Brain watched in astonishment as the children busted through the doors and followed the couple. The mice heard two frantic screams followed by childish giggling from the siblings. After five minutes, the Warners returned to the table as if nothing happened. 

“How are you feeling, Pinky?” Wakko asked. 

“A lot better, actually! Troz!” The lanky mouse answered with an optimistic grin. 

“What happened back there?” Brain inquired. 

“You don’t want to know,” Yakko replied. 

“Let’s just say that those bozos won’t be bothering Pinky anymore.” Dot mentioned cryptically. With a gentle hand, she carefully caressed Pinky’s head. The mouse smiled as he accepted her loving touch. 

Brain gave a warm smile at the siblings. “Thank you for standing up for Pinky.” 

“Of course!” Yakko assured. “After seeing you stick up for us last night, it’s only fair that we return the favor!” 

The rest of their meal went off without any further issue. Brain rewarded the Warners for their solidarity by allowing them to pick out as many deserts as they so desired. Wakko had one of each, while Yakko picked out brownie cake. Dot graciously declined the offer, instead of ordering another glass of water. As Yakko and Wakko contentedly enjoyed their desserts, Dot continued to look a little uneasy as she sipped her water. 

After Brain paid for lunch, the group was on their way to the movie theaters to see an animated movie featuring the Furbies which was most certainly attempting to ride off the coattails of The Lego Movie. Yakko and Wakko were excited to go to the movies when Brain informed them that the theater will have assigned seats and comfy reclining leather chairs. Yakko was especially elated by this. They’ll have fewer chances of coming across a man spreader and have a more comfortable movie-going experience.  

While Yakko and Wakko excitedly bounced around on their way to the movies, Dot was unusually quiet compared to her older siblings. The Warner sister walked at a slower pace, clutching her stomach and looking down at the sidewalk. 

Yakko knew that something was up with his sister and decided to intervene once more. “Hey, you doin’ okay sis?” He asked concernedly. 

“I don’t think I’m feeling too good…” Dot admitted. She then felt something rise up from her stomach and started to panic. The girl spotted a trash receptacle and sprinted towards it. Gripping the sides of the can, she threw up straight into the trash. 

Yakko, Wakko, and the mice winced as they watched the poor girl spew out her lunch. 

Once she finished, she felt woozy. Brain took out the folded handkerchief from his suit pocket and offered it to Dot, who graciously accepted it and wiped her mouth. 

Overwhelmed with guilt, tears began to stream down Pinky’s face. “Poit! I’m so sorry Dot, this is all my fault!” The tall mouse cried. “This wouldn’t have happened if we went to The Cheesecake Factory instead!” 

“It’s okay, Pinky.” Dot assured, trying her hardest to sound confident. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” 

Brain tied his best not to give in to stress and remain in control over the situation. “Okay, new plan: we need to return to the hotel right away so you could rest.” He addressed Dot and the rest of the group.  

The mouse consulted the map app on his smartphone and was thankful that it was only a ten-minute walk to the hotel from their current position. He looked over at Dot and realized that she needed some ginger ale after what happened. Fortunately, the group just so happened to be standing right next to a convenience store. Brain picked up Pinky from his shoulder and placed him next to the Warner siblings. 

“Pinky, you watch the kids while I go inside the store to fetch some ginger ale and crackers for Dot.” Brain explained as he dashed through the front doors. 

“You can count on my Brain! Troz!” Pinky responded, giving his partner a serious salute. Once the smaller mouse entered the store, he shifted his attention over to the Warners. 

Yakko and Wakko comforted their sister as they waited outside. Dot just stared down at the sidewalk, propping her head in her gloved hands.

“Why did this have to happen?” She thought to herself.

The girl felt Yakko’s hand ruffle through her hair while Wakko��s hand stroked up and down her back. Pinky, despite his short stature, went over to her knee and hugged it with all his might. Dot looked over at the lanky white mouse, giving him a grateful smile. She released her right hand from under her head and gently patted Pinky. 

The group was alerted when Brain exited the convenience store with a brown paper bag filled with a liter bottle of ginger ale, a box of salted crackers, and plastic cups. Additionally, he held a cold can of ginger ale in the robot’s right hand. Steering the controls, Brain knelt the suit on one knee and offered the ginger ale to the Warner sister, who wordlessly accepted it. She opened up the soda and took a generous sip. With the necessary goods purchased, the group started to make their way back to the hotel. 

“Do you need any help, sis?” Yakko asked. 

“No, I’m good.” Dot assured him. She was tough. After all, she was the one who marched to grant toons the right to vote and managed to sing an impressive song about the First Ladies of the United States in under two minutes. Dot was also strong enough to open up any jar lids for Wakko. Heck, she even saved Yakko’s life on Halloween night for crying out loud! A far cry from the sickly waif she played in Wakko’s Wish. While Dot knew how supportive and loving her older siblings were and she greatly respected the mice, the last thing she wanted was to be pitied by them. 

But the girl stumbled. She almost tripped, but managed to catch her footing and placed her hand on Brain’s robotic leg for support. 

Brain noticed this and immediately used the man-suit to pick her up, cradling her in his arms, an act that surprised Yakko. Brain gently adjusted his arm to properly carry her. Dot was too exhausted to put up a fight. Pressing the cold soda can to her forehead, she closed her eyes and surrendered to his concerned affection. Pinky made his way down the robotic arm and gently stroked Dot’s hair. The Warner sister gave a small smile, cherishing the care she received from the mice. 

Brain gazed at the Warner sister with worried eyes as he continued to walk back over to the hotel. Yakko and Wakko shared worried glances before catching up with the mouse. 

The group made it back to the hotel without further incident. But the somber mood from Dot’s sudden illness had rendered everyone, even the talkative Yakko, speechless. Brain couldn’t help but think of how strange it was to see normally energetic and loud Yakko and Wakko this quiet. It was an unnerving sight. 

When they arrived in front of their room, Yakko retrieved his hotel key and opened up the door. He allowed Brain, who carefully held Dot with the metal arms, to walk in first. The oldest Warner watched as the mouse brought his sister over to the bed. Brain moved the covers with one arm and gently lowered Dot with the other. Once she was in bed, she placed her magenta robe on. As she laid down on the bed, Brain placed the covers over her and adjusted them to her comfort. 

Yakko was still standing by the doorway, feeling surprisingly out of place. Normally he was the responsible one. Always taking care of his younger sibs when they were sick, making them breakfast, or enchanting them with bedtime stories. While he didn’t ask to play the part of the parent, he adapted to the role to the best of his ability. And for someone who had to watch over Wakko and Dot for over sixty years, Yakko thought he did a pretty good job. 

So why was he feeling weird about having an adult he knew to do his job for him? 

Brain placed the groceries on the nightstand, taking out the ginger ale, plastic cups, and box of salted crackers. Once the mouse emptied out the paper bag, he placed the library book bag on his bed and rode the suit over to the other side. After he parked the robotic suit, he got out of the driver’s seat and hopped onto the mattress.

“Pinky, you’re in charge of supervising Yakko and Wakko.” Brain ordered. “Why don’t you take them to the movies while I’ll stay here and keep a vigilant eye over Dot.”

“Sure thing, Brain!” Pinky said confidently, giving him a thumbs up. 

“Uh Brain, I can stay and help too,” Yakko interjected, trying his best to mask his worry. 

Brain noticed the boy’s willingness to help out. He tried to come up with a gentle way to assure him that his sister would be fine under his care. 

But before he could speak, Dot spoke up. “It’s gonna be okay, Yakko. I don’t want you to feel bad because I’m feeling under the weather. Now go on and have a fun time with Wakko and Pinky.” 

“You sure?” Yakko asked. “Cause I don’t mind staying here.” 

“Yakko, I understand how concerned you are of your sister’s well-being, but I promise you that she will be cared for under my vigilance.” Brain consoled. 

“But-” Yakko tried to make an argument but was quickly cut off by his little sister. 

“Brain’s got it under control.” Dot said a little more firmly. After seeing the worry in her brother’s eyes, she knew that he meant well. “Please Yakko, have a fun time, for me?” She softly told him whilst batting her eyelashes. 

Yakko realized that Dot was weaponizing her cuteness to her advantage and that even he was not immune to her adorable charms.  The last thing he wanted was to upset Dot while she was still ill. While the Warner brother didn’t want to leave her, he had to respect her wishes. “I will, sis.” He sighed. “But just call me if anything happens, okay?” He proceeded to playfully ruffle her hair. 

“I will,” Dot replied, giving her brother a small smile as she gently shoved her brother’s hand away. 

Wakko approached her and carefully squeezed her hand. “Feel better, dearest sister.” Wakko consoled before letting go. He then took Yakko’s hand, tugging him towards the door. On the way, he picked up Pinky and placed him on their red hat. 

“Take care, Dot!” Pinky happily called out. 

Dot giggled at the taller mouse’s enthusiasm. “Thank you, Pinky!” 

“And don’t worry Brain, I won’t let you down! Narf!” Pinky addressed with a wave. 

“I know you won’t, Pinky.” Brain confidently replied as he waved back. Pinky smiled at his partner as Wakko carried him out of the hotel room. The smaller mouse gave his partner a soft smile. 

Once the door was closed, Brain turned his attention towards the Warner sister. 

“Now, is there anything I can do for you?” Brain asked softly. 

“I’m all set for now.” Dot answered. “On second thought, could you turn on the TV?” 

With a click of the remote, Brain turned on the television set and the image of reddish stars decorating the darkness of space accompanied by soothing piano and synth music. The title of the program slowly appeared on the screen: Cosmos. 

“Wait, don’t change the channel!” Dot cried out. “I love this mini-series!” 

Brain was surprised. “You’re an admirer of Carl Sagan’s work?” 

“Of course! Where else would I get my scientific knowledge from? Mr. United States-Canada-Mexico-Panama?” Dot quipped. 

The small mouse couldn’t help but chuckle at the Warner sister’s snide remark. 

“And besides, I’m the witty one.” She playfully added. 

Brain smiled. “Well, I’m glad to have found someone who appreciates the sciences as much as I.” 

The smaller mouse and the girl turned their attention over towards the flat-screen television as they watched Carl Sagan discuss the hundred billion galaxies within the universe. Twenty minutes into the show, Brain heard the soft snores. He turned to find Dot fast asleep in her bed.  

The mouse sighed in relief, happy that she was resting, and used the remote to lower the volume. 

Brain then walked over to the book bag and retrieved Heidi from the pile of library books. Walking over towards the other side of the bed, the chubby mouse plopped next to the pillow and began to read. After a few minutes, Brain was becoming invested in the story when he heard his phone vibrate. He placed a bookmark in between the pages and trotted over to his smartphone. The moment he turned on the device, a text message from Yakko appeared on the screen. 

Is Dot okay? 

Brain understood the boy’s concern. As he reread the message he pondered over how Yakko had single-handedly raised his younger sibling for decades in the confines of the water tower without adult supervision or any assistance from the outside world. Brain could not imagine the emotionally harrowing task of having to tend to the needs of his siblings at such a tender age. After years of being the sole caretaker of Wakko and Dot, it would make logical sense for Yakko to be incredibly concerned over his sister’s well-being. 

But Brain wanted to assure Yakko that he no longer had to worry about carrying the burden of responsibility on his own. The eloquent mouse opened up the text message app and thought of an appropriate response to send. After coming up with words of comfort, he decides to type out his message. 

I commend your concern for your younger sister. Dot is taking a much-needed nap at the moment and she will be okay. 

Brain stared at the message with critical eyes. After a moment of musing, he concluded that it sounded too serious. He decided to spruce it up a bit with a smiley face, just as he always does with his usual emails and text messages. 

I commend your concern for your younger sister. Dot is taking a much-needed nap at the moment and she will be okay. : )

The mouse nodded at the message and pressed his paw on the send button. In seconds he saw the text message turn blue, indicating its arrival on Yakko’s phone. 

Putting aside his smartphone, Brain took another glance at the sleeping Warner sister and smiled at the peaceful sight. With everything under control, he opened up his novel and picked up where he left off. 

AN: This chapter was also originally supposed to be longer, but I decided to divide it because it was too long.

More fun shenanigans in this chapter. I wanted to explore Brain and Pinky slowly going dad mode in certain scenarios, with Brain being the more responsible dad while Pinky is the more doting parent. The library scene mainly started because I was curious as to what kind of books the Warners like to read.

I also wanted to explore more of the siblings in this chapter, especially their vulnerabilities while keeping true to their reboot characterizations. With Wakko, I wanted to touch on their insecurities a bit when compared to their siblings. With a capable and confident character like Dot, I wanted to put her in a situation where she allows herself to be cared for while acknowledging her strengths and intelligence. Then we have Yakko starting to question his own abilities as a parental figure to his siblings when he sees Brain taking care of Dot. This issue will be further explored in the following chapter, but I hope I’m doing my best to expand on these otherwise comedic characters.

Thanks for reading!

[notalwaysthevillian]

My Whirlpool of a Life

Ships: Eventual Kaminar/OC

Word Count: ~2k

Notes: This is my first My Hero Academia fanfiction! I’ve recently joined the fandom, and wanted to write something that’s been stuck in my head since I started watching. I’m not sure how many chapters it’ll be, but I have a lot planned, plot wise!

Also, I will not be doing a tag list for this fic.

Masterlist

Chapter 1: Moving into the Dorms

A shaky breath fell from my lips as I stood in front of the large, wooden door. Most of my stuff was already here, all that was left was a small bag that I was currently gripping like a lifeline. Mr. Aizawa had asked me to wait outside while he told everyone that they were adding me to the class.

As I titled my head to see if I could hear anything, the door opened, making me jump.

“You can come in now.”

I nodded, walking in and immediately gaining the attention of 20 pairs of eyes. I gave a small wave, getting smiles in response.

“Um, hi. I’m Nami Kota, and I’m super excited to join your class!”

There were various murmurs of “Kota?” and “why is she joining our class?” but no one said anything immediately.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Alright, we’re gonna go over room assignments. There’s at least one girl on each floor, across from the boys. You each have your own closet and bathroom as well. Mineta, Midoriya, Aoyama, Tokoyami, and Nami - you five are on the second floor.”

Mr. Aizawa’s voice continued to drone on, but I slipped away to unpack my stuff. We’d be living here all year. It wouldn’t be too hard to figure out room assignments.

After about ten minutes, I heard a knock on my door. Surprised that anyone would already be done, I headed over and opened it.

A short boy with purple balls on his head stared up at me, leaning in the doorway. “Name’s Mineta. Minoru Mineta. I came to ask if you needed any help unpacking.”

“Oh, I’m good by myself, but thank you so much for offering!” I gave him a smile. “Are you done already?”

“No, I figured I’d help the girls get settled first, like the nice guy I am.”

Before I could say anything else, a pink girl came out of nowhere and smacked Mineta. “You perv, leave her alone, she just got here!”

Grumbling, Mineta walked back to his room, giving me a wink before closing his door. I made a face, one that made the pink girl laugh.

“He’s one to watch out for, or he might go through your dresser.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m Mina. I love your style by the way, the flowiness of that top is to die for!”

“Thanks!” I did a small twirl, the babydoll top floating out around me. “I have a pink one that’s similar if you ever want to borrow it.”

“Oh my gosh yes!” She squealed, throwing her arms around me in a hug, which I returned instantly. “We’re gonna be best friends, I can tell. I’m gonna go unpack but we have to talk later, bye!”

She darted off, leaving me to finally unpack everything in my room. After I’d put my clothes away, I really only had a few accent pieces to add before I was done.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have anything to hang my picture with. Hoping that there were some nails or something in the common area, I headed downstairs.

Two of the boys were sitting on the sofa, talking to each other. One of them looked a little grumpy, but his friend with the red hair waved as soon as he saw me walk in.

“Hey, Nami Kota, right?” He asked as I headed over. “I’m Kirishima, and this is Bakugo.”

Bakugo gave me a once over and a grunt before he pulled out his phone.

“Hi, I guess.” I said, earning a huff in response. “You guys haven’t seen any nails or anything around have you? I’ve got a picture to hang and-”

“I can help!” Kirishima jumped to his feet, his whole body turning into a rock-like substance. “My quirk is hardening, I can hammer a nail in.”

“I need to find a nail first.”

“Kitchen drawer, next to the sink.” Bakugo didn’t even look up from his phone.

Even though I knew he was ignoring me, I gave him a smile. Politeness had been drilled into me from a young age. You never knew if today was someone’s turning point into a villain.

Kirishima and I found the nails easily, grabbing one and heading up to my room. When we walked in, he took a quick look around. “Nice, love the beach vibes.”

“Thanks!”

Heading over to my bed, I grabbed the picture. “Okay, this is it. If I had some tape I could mark the spot on the wall easier.”

Kirishima laughed, holding up one finger. “I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared for a few minutes, before coming back in with a dark haired boy.

“Dude, what if she doesn’t want me in here?” He asked as Kirishima dragged him in.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the panicked look on his face. “No worries, the door is open.”

“Sero, just chill out man. She said she needed tape.”

The boy, Sero, still seemed tense as he walked in. “I can do tape, that’s my quirk.”

“Oh that’s so useful! But I don’t want to just use you for your quirk, that seems a bit mean.”

Sero shrugged, pulling some tape from his elbow and handing it over. “Long enough?”

I held it up to the picture. “Yes! Thank you so much, Sero.”

“Not a problem!” He slowly started to shuffle out of the room. “I’m gonna go hang out with everyone downstairs, see ya.”

“You’d think they’d never seen a girl’s bedroom.” Grabbing the tape, I hung it on the back, before using a pencil to mark where the picture hanger was.

“Oh that’s so smart!” Kirishima said from over my shoulder. “So you don’t put too many holes in the wall right?”

“Exactly!”

Peeling off the tape, I put it on the wall and handed over the nail. “If you would, good sir.”

“Thank you, madame.” He said, taking the nail with a small bow, making me laugh. He hardened his fist and gently tapped the nail in until it was halfway through. “All good!”

Grabbing the picture, I tilted it until it was perfectly straight.

“That’s a neat picture.”

“Thanks.” I could practically hear the laughter of my little brother and my parents as I looked at the cottage. “It’s where I used to live. It was so peaceful there. Not a lot of noise from the city.”

“You’ll have to get used to noise fast, we’re a loud bunch.” Kirishima joked.

I turned, trying to hide the emotions bubbling up, but I wasn’t quick enough.

“Hey, sorry, I shouldn’t have made a joke, that wasn’t very manly.” He shifted, before holding out his hands. “Hug? You can say no.”

“I’m good. Or, I will be.” I started taking deep breaths, like Ragdoll had taught me. “Thanks for the offer though.”

“If you ever need a hug, no strings attached, I’m your guy.” He pointed to himself.

“Me too.” Mineta's voice came from the hall. He leaned in glancing around a second, before a look of disappointment came over his face. “You put everything away.”

“Mineta, that’s creepy.” I gave him a look. “You are not going to get girls that way. Be nice to them, like Kirishima, and they’ll look at you a lot more.”

“So you’re attracted to Kirishima? Dang it!”

“I didn’t say that. His personality is attractive, yeah, but he’s not my type.” I gave Kirishima a tiny punch on the shoulder. “Sorry, man.”

“No hard feelings here. You kind of remind me of my sister anyway.”

“Good, you can be my bro.”

He fist bumped me, both of us ignoring Mineta, who had slumped onto the floor. “We should go introduce you to everyone else, come on!”

We walked out into the hall, with me nudging Mineta out of the room before I closed the door. Another door clicked nearby as a boy with a bird-like head closed his door.

“Nami Kota, it is nice to meet you.” He pulled his cloak a little tighter around his shoulders. “My name is Fumikage Tokoyami.”

“We were just heading downstairs to introduce her to everyone.”

Tokoyami nodded. “Let’s go. Mineta, are you coming with us or are you going to just lay on the floor?”

“I’m coming.”

A boy at the staircase spun around at our voices, putting a hand on his chest. “She hadn’t met moi yet. Yuga Aoyama. It’s a pleasure.”

“Je suis Nami Kota, un plaisir c’est certain.”

“Another French speaker! C’est magnifique!” Aoyama clapped his hands together.

I rubbed the back of my neck, giving him a tiny smile. “Only a little, mostly greetings.”

“Still! This is wonderful!” Aoyama ran up and grabbed my hand, half dragging me down the stairs. “Come, you must meet everyone!”

“Woah, slow down!” I cried out, laughing as we raced to the common area. I could hear the other three boys behind us, steps thundering on the stairs.

“Why are you being so noisy?” I heard someone ask, as Aoyama and I darted into the room. A girl with plugs on her earlobes had her hands over her ears, and the girl next to her just shook her head.

“The new girl simply must meet everyone by the night’s end.”

The girl with the ponytail nodded, holding out her hand. “Yaoyorozu, but everyone’s been calling me Yao-Momo. And this is Jirou. She’s a little sensitive to noise.”

“Oops, sorry.” I whispered, giving a small wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“Where are the others?” Aoyama asked, dragging me off to the kitchen as Yaoyorozu pointed. “Please meet my new friend.”

“Hey, she’s my new friend!” Mina shouted, pointing the knife she was using at Aoyama.

He held up his hands, before a boy with glasses pushed Mina’s hand down. “That is not proper knife safety, Ashido. Please point it downward.”

Mina grumbled something, but the boy turned to me. “I am Tenya Iida, the class rep. If you need anything, please ask me.”

“Thank you! I will.”

Two boys putting dishes in the oven looked over. One of them waved, saying something that I couldn’t hear. The other grinned. “I’m Sato, and this is Koda, in case you didn’t hear him. He’s very quiet.”

A soft “hello” finally made its way to my ears. I gave them a wave, before the two girls washing dishes looked over.

“Oh, Nami, right? Call me Su.” She blepped her tongue out a little, making me smile.

The girl next to her had super pink cheeks. “I��m Uraraka!”

“I’m Hagakure!”

The voice next to my ear made me jump. I glanced over to see a pair of floating gloves. “Hi. You’re invisible?”

“Yep!”

“That’s so cool!” I turned toward everyone. “I can’t wait to find out about all your quirks!”

“Hmm, we are still missing a few. Wherever could they be?” Aoyama glanced into another room, his face brightening. “Nami, this way!”

I followed back to the common area, seeing a few more boys on the couches. One looked up at me, the scar over his left eye telling me exactly who he was.

“You’re Shoto Todoroki, right?”

He merely nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too! Your quirk is kinda like mine. Just…better.” I glanced at my hands for a second. “You have way better control from what I saw at the festival.”

“You watched the festival?”

“Just the last match, I’d been training during most of it.”

Bakugo laughed. “So you saw me beat IcyHot.”

“I saw that both of you are extremely powerful, yeah.”

A boy with a tail walked over, shaking my hand. “I’m Ojiro.”

“Shoji.” Another boy said, waving a whole bunch of hands.

“Woah.”

“If you think that’s cool, you’ll love my quirk.” Someone said behind me, before a sparking hand entered my vision. “Cool right?”

“Kaminari, please don’t electrocute her.” Aoyama nudged the hand away.

I turned to see a blonde boy grinning at me. The second our eyes met I could feel my heartbeat speed up.

“It is a pretty neat quirk.” Flipping my blue hair over my shoulder, I smiled as I watched his eyes follow the movement.

“The name’s Denki Kaminari.” He took a step closer. “You better get used to the name because it’ll be yours someday.”

“Kamin-”

“Nami Kaminari.” The name rolled off my tongue. “Hmm, I like it.”

“W-what?”

I couldn’t help but giggle at the bewildered expression on his face. “What’s wrong? Not used to girls flirting back?”

“Not really.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

I flashed him a smile. “Better get used to it then.”

I heard a chorus of “ooh”s behind me as a blush crept up Kaminari’s neck. Leaning in, I whispered, “You look adorable when you blush.”

The line had the desired effect as he turned even redder and started sputtering.

“Um, hi.”

I glanced over to see a boy with green hair waving. “I’m the last one for you to meet. I think. Izuku Midoriya, or Deku.”

“Midoriya! You’re the one who saved my brother a few days ago.” I ran over to him, bouncing on my toes. “Thank you so so much. You’ve changed his thoughts on heroes for the better. I’ve tried but…he needed to see a real hero in action I guess.”

“Oh it wasn’t - I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

I nodded. “Exactly! What a true hero would do.”

“Yeah - yeah I guess.”

“Class! Dinner is ready. Please make an orderly line.” Tenya looked so serious as he instructed the class, who ignored him and crowded into the kitchen.

“Some hot food for some hot stuff.” Kaminari gave me another flirty grin as he gestured for me to go ahead of him.

I couldn’t help but smile as Uraraka handed me a plate.

I was gonna like it here.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Cyberpunk!HypMic

This is an extension of the cyberpunk outfits from this AU.

Originally, these outfits did not have their own universe to exist in - they were just made to fit a theme - but it just so happens HypMic already has a lot of the components required for cyberpunk...(but yikes, this is the densest AU - in terms of worldbuilding - I've had yet...)

TDD, MCD, Kuujaku Posse and NB existed in the past, but not in the context of the DRB - they were just groups of unlikely friends with differing reputations that retroactively came to be known under popular monikers and they ended up accepting those names over time. After WW3 and Chuohku's take over, technology rapidly advanced but society as a whole was wrecked.

As a reminder, the base outfit in this world is a silver body suit which only exposes the head, hands and feet, with black combat boots and a black belt.

In this world, this outfit is typically issued by Chuohku via people like Ramuda, although as you can tell by the outfits given in the magical boy AU, what you put on top of the base outfit can vary wildly. The boots and the belt can be swapped with something else without any trouble - the only thing that can get you into trouble with the authorities is ditching the suit. The body suit is able to purify polluted air within a short distance of itself, but only for the user.

All suit users have an accent colour, typically found on places like the top edge of the boots and on buttons, and the accents glow faintly in the dark. The colours have been adjusted slightly from the magical boy AU to create better glow effects.

...For the outfits that aren't specified, known from the magical boy AU or the same as canon in cases where the character does not rely on the suit, I'll leave them to your imagination, dear readers.

BB:

A team of brothers and odd jobs workers who navigate the digital and the real world to help those in need.

Ichiro: The owner of Odd Jobs Yamada. Prone to poking around with the latest in virtual reality, as well as illegal or semi-legal cybernetics. Resents Samatoki because he interferes with the Yamadas' business often enough to be a nuisance. Accent colour: Bright red.

Jiro: A delinquent and the more physical member of Odd Jobs Yamada (i.e. instead of trying to shut down bad guys using digital trickery, he's more likely to punch them instead). Was going to high school before circumstances shut schools down. Accent colour: Bright (royal) blue.

Saburo: A genius hacker. Was going to middle school before circumstances shut schools down. Accent colour: Bright yellow.

MTC:

An ad hoc crew who, in this world, have much weaker relationships than they do in canon.

Samatoki: A yakuza second-in-command, currently in possession of a strange black cybernetic glove which covers his right arm from the hand up to the elbow. The glove is able to control the air purification feature of the suits, so it's a particularly nasty bit of contraband. Resents Ichiro because Ichiro made a prototype of the glove and that was the last chance Samatoki had of convincing Nemu not to join Chuohku, but she joined them anyway. Also came into possession of an humanoid mecha, via Riou, which became the base of the new Yotsutsuji. Wears his TDD jacket over his shoulders. Accent colour: Indigo.

(Nemu: Currently with Chuohku to improve the world from within the government. Sent the completed glove to her brother because she knew he would keep it safe. Accent colour: Magenta (aka "Chuohku pink").)

Jyuto: A corrupt cop, currently investigating the glove in Samatoki's possession. More overworked than his canon counterpart...Even his trademark glasses have been digitised - they have a small antenna on the left side and can display information on the lenses when Jyuto gives them a mental signal (the display is in his accent colour). Accent colour: Maroon.

Riou: A former navyman who lives in nature, despite it being irreparably wrecked, and would rather not deal with the digital world, considering he's a cyborg (this is how he gets around not having the suit - he was experimented on in Chuohku's pursuit of creating a new supersoldier). Gave Samatoki an ancient industrial military-grade humanoid mecha which is about as tall as he (Samatoki) is.

FP:

Gentaro doesn't know Ramuda and Dice in this world.

Ramuda: A fashion designer who hands out government-mandated suits (for a small fee) while trying to ask out as many ladies as possible. Also sells other items to go with the suits, as would be expected of a typical fashion designer. His allegiance to Chuohku is a lot clearer in this world, but he's not a clone in this - just a normal human with hair dyed pink. Accent colour: Light orange (as per the magical boy AU).

Gentaro: A writer who makes his stories "real" via virtual reality and partnerships with others, such as Odd Jobs Yamada. Has material in some of his stories which he can use to blackmail Chuohku with. Hides his suit under traditional Japanese clothes. Accent colour: Bright purple.

Dice: Officially, he's a gambler who gambles with digital money and can't afford the suit. (Ramuda is not only something like a debt collector to him, he's also Dice's minder and enabler of sorts.) Unofficially, he's the son of Otome, the leader of Chuohku, who, when he was disowned by his family, lost access to the suits. As a result, he occasionally struggles to breathe and has to be helped by someone every so often. (Maybe if Hitoya or Jakurai met him in this world, Dice would be properly saved...?)

MTR:

Jakurai: A doctor, albeit one who prefers to use old-fashioned (that's "modern" to us) methods where possible. Chuohku believes gathering data from his brainwaves is necessary for the progress of developing new medical technology (or so they say...), so he wears a strange device which loops around the back half of his head and sits over his hair, attached to his head by two round (glowing) suction cups just above his ears. Wears his doctor's coat over the suit. Acts as Doppo and Hifumi's therapist and/or meditates in his spare time. Accent colour: Cyan.

Yotsutsuji: Currently in a coma after Chuohku's experiments for new supersoldiers. With the help of the former TDD, Jakurai has placed what could be salvaged of Yotsutsuji's consciousness into a humanoid mecha.

Hifumi: The no. 1 host of Fragrance. Uses virtual reality, projection mapping and other technologies to create entertainment for his clients. Afraid of women, but rather than his jacket, in this world he uses the same technology that aids him in his work to escape them. Accent colour: Neon green.

Doppo: A salaryman with appallingly low pay, no matter how hard he works, due to the fact technology is advanced enough in this world to give him a run for his money...He's lucky he has Jakurai and Hifumi to keep him sane... Accent colour: Teal.

DH:

Rei knows about Sasara and Rosho in this world, but they don't know about him.

Sasara: A comedian, currently under the heel of Chuohku. To this end, there are only certain kinds of jokes he's allowed to say while performing in public, although Sasara tries to get around this as much as he can when he can and secretly wishes to tear down the system with the former TDD + MCD so he can say what he likes again. Remotely communicates with Rosho via a visor and wears a leather jacket similar to Samatoki's TDD jacket in memory of MCD. Accent colour: Bright pink (as per the magical boy AU).

Rosho: A teacher, who lost his job when the school system broke down. He relies on Sasara to provide his basic necessities, but also takes occasional jobs to teach children in small groups or one-on-one, even teaching them comedy skills if he deems it necessary for them to survive in this wartorn world. Remotely communicates with Sasara via a display built into his glasses (which he otherwise wears purely for cosmetic reasons). Accent colour: Purple.

Rei: The creator of various technologies and creations prior to the war, most notably the ubiquitous suits. Currently gathering Jakurai's brainwave data for his own purposes. Has a strange relationship with the upper management of Chuohku, particularly Otome. Instead of sunglasses, he wears a (purely cosmetic) sniper's monocle over his left eye. Accent colour: Orange.

BAT:

Kuko: Back to being a delinquent, after people stopped believing in religion in exchange for technology. However, he still holds on to his beliefs, with the idea that one day, he can bring Buddhism back to a world that needs something to believe in. To this end, he uses virtual reality to recreate the pre-war world as he remembers it. Wears a teal happi coat over his suit and his prayer beads dangle out of his pocket. Accent colour: Mint green. Also known to commonly ditch the government-mandated suit for a particular respirator system created by Hitoya, which has a mess of wires going from the back of his head and going to either his neck or his shoulders (it looks similar to how the robot from the cover art of In My Mind's Axwell Mix has it) - this is due to the fact it looks intimidating and cool, yet it can be a pain to move around with at times.

Jyushi: A visual kei musician who enhances his shows with virtual reality, projection mapping and so on. People get confused when they involve Amanda "coming to life", but they roll with it anyway. Accent colour: Gold (essentially, a darker yellow than Saburo's).

Hitoya: A former lawyer, whose services are no longer needed now that the rules of society the law should operate in do not apply. This freed up his time to pursue his own interests, including creating portable respirator technology which Kuko and Jyushi try out for him (he does this with some help from some connections in the medical field, including Jakurai).

[avmisworld]

When BTS meet you for the first time:

Kim Seokjin:

Jin runs a pale hand through his short black hair, nodding absentmindedly to the staff he sees on his way down the hallway, his familiar polite smile spread across his face.

He has a long and intense day of dance practice ahead of him, a day he couldn't start properly without his daily cup of coffee and a sweet pastry from the company's coffee shop.

Pushing the simple glass door with the palm of his hand, Jin steps into the small, cozy restaurant, the small golden bell above his head signaling his arrival with a tinkle.

"Good morning", Jin says, bowing lightly at the different staff members and workers sitting around the round oak tables filling the shop, the space soon filled with various greetings towards him.

The room is filled with a strong smell of coffee beans and melted chocolate and sweet baked treats, and the young man breaths in the delicious scent with satisfaction, looking around the softly lit room, with the dangling yellow lights shining like stars in the sky and the colorful pictures and motivational quotes hanging on the walls.

Seokjin had always found this place calming and homey, with the soft piano music playing in the background and the wide glass windows showing off the busy street mere metres away from the shop, adding to the other-wordly atmosphere.

Sitting down at his usual spot in the edge of the cafe, Seokjin slips off his black jacket, revealing the simple white t-shirt under it as he carelessly flings the piece of clothing across the empty chair beside him.

It was hot inside the coffee shop, nothing like the weather outside, with the winter starting and the winds blowing, causing the people on the street to cuddle even closer into their thin coats and sweaters.

"Hello and welcome to our coffee shop. How can I help you?", Jin is surprised at the sound of the soft, feminine voice coming from in front of him, his head snapping upwards to stare at the young waitress in front of him with wide eyes.

Jin was a hundred percent sure that this waitress was working here for less than a week, since he hasn't since her before, and everyone here knew who Jin was and what he orders by heart thanks to his frequent visits.

Also, judging by her skin color and slight accent, the girl in front of him was a foreigner. Seokjin couldn't help but let his eyes linger one second too long on the girl's shiny, long hair, twinkling dark orbs, and plump pink lips, before clearing his throat loudly and smiling slightly.

"Hello", he replies, trying to stay calm despite the increasing race of his heart the longer he looked at the beautiful young woman. "I'd like an Americano and a purple sweet potato cake, please".

The younger girl nods, bowing her head slightly before turning to walk back to the kitchen, Seokjin's eyes following her lithe figure until it disappears behind the simple white door.

Staring outside, Seokjin stares at the people rushing past the window, their eyes trained on the ground underneath them or locked on their phone screen. The image of the girl doesn't fade from Jin's mind, unfortunately, and he wonders why he can't stop repeating the image of the foreigner's stunning smile.

"Here you go, sir", Seokjin's startled out of his thoughts at the sound of the soft, quiet voice, a steaming mug of brown liquid placed in front of him, the froth on top drawn carefully into the shape of a heart, and a pretty porcelain plate, holding a small, bright purple muffin, wisps of steam still coming out of it.

"Thank you", the dark-haired man says, eyeing the petite girl for another second, before clearing his throat nervously, causing the girl to stop just as she was about to leave the table.

"I'm sorry, do you want anything else?", the girl's pretty face is sporting a soft pink blush now, and she's fiddling with her fingers nervously, placing them on top of her simple turquoise dress shirt.

Before he can think it over, Jin is shaking his head quickly, making sure to send the girl a genuine smile to calm her down, before saying: "No, no, I was just wondering… Are you new here?"

The young woman seems to blush even harder at that, laughing sweetly in something akin to relief, and Seokjin can feel his own smile widen at the sound of the twinkling giggle. "Is it that obvious?", she mumbles, tucking a strand of dark hair that managed to escape her tight ponytail.

"It is for someone who's here nearly every single day", Seokjin says with amusement, finally catching the waitress' gaze when she lifts her head up to meet his eyes.

"I'm Kim Seokjin", he introduces himself, reaching out one of his long hands to the other, watching as she sends one of her own tanned ones to shake his, her smile now looking shy and bashful, yet just as beautiful.

"I'm Y/L/N Y/N", she introduces herself, and Seokjin can't help but smile even wider at the other's name, happy to get one step closer to knowing more about the mystery girl.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N", Seokjin says, trying to ignore the warmth seeping through the girl's hand, tightening the hold on her hand just a little bit more. "I think we'll be seeing each other a lot more from now on".

Min Yoongi:

Yoongi enters the music bar, pulling his black snapback even lower on his head as he shuffles through the bustling entrance, trying to draw as least attention to himself as possible.

Going to a packed bar by yourself as an idol was in no means a good idea, but Suga was having a serious writer's block that was killing him, and sometimes the best way to deal with that is to just be a normal person.

Nobody should be able to recognize him, not with the hat covering his shiny silver hair, the mask drawn up to his nose, and the simple black clothes, yet the young man could still feel the buzz of anxiety in his body, mixed with an unexplainable excitement.

Honestly, Suga could already feel some of his inspiration coming back to him just by entering the small bar, his eyes immediately scanning the dark space, the colorful lights hanging above the drinking bar, the assortment of chattering men and women sitting around long black counters and smooth round tables, or swaying lightly to the jazz music playing on the large black speakers.

Walking over to the ginger-haired barista, Yoongi asks for a bottle of soju, bowing in thanks when the woman hands over the ice-cold green bottle with a smile, and heads for one of the empty tables at the back of the bar, facing the small stage built for amateur karaoke singers and the occasional guest artist.

Sitting on the hard wooden chair, Yoongi takes a long sip of his drink, sighing with satisfaction at the burn of the alcohol in his throat, filling his stomach with the familiar warmth he was seeking.

He examines the groups of friends, probably university students celebrating the start of the weekend, talking loudly and laughing boisterously. He watches lone people like himself, nursuring glasses of alcohol to their chest, and imagines why they are here, their story. He stares at sweet couples with envy, admiring the way the man tightens his hold around his girlfriend's waist possessively, proudly telling the world who she belongs to.

The sound of a sweet, honey-like voice snaps Yoongi out of his thoughts, and he thinks he never turned his head as fast as he did right now, his eyes catching the girl standing on the stage immediately.

She's beautiful, magnificent even, and the bar seems to quiet down significantly when she starts to sing, as if the world itself was holding its breath. She's wearing a simple black mini dress, the sleeves hanging off her shoulders, and her hair is cascading down her shoulder like a waterfall of darkness, swallowing Yoongi whole.

Her stage presence is incredible, even the way she holds the small black microphone radiating some sort of silent power, and Suga can't help but stare with awe, letting the girl's soft voice sweep him away like the wind.

It feels like everything and nothing at all, and even though the song is English and he can't understand half of the words, the melodic voice of the mystery singer is enough to make Yoongi shake with emotion, his hands grabbing the bottom of the table to steady himself.

It seems like hours, or maybe seconds, before the girl is done, her sentimental expression changing into a beautiful smile as she bows to the cheering crowd bashfully, her aura nothing like the powerful, heartbroken one from seconds before.

Yoongi can't even stop himself from getting out of his seat, his feet unconsciously making their way after the young woman, his thoughts jumbled and he doesn't even know what he's going to say to her, for God's sakes. (Maybe, "you're my muse?")

Either way, he's walking, grabbing the other's hand before he can even think of the consequences, and she's turning around, even more bright up close, like a star in a sky full of clouds, and then he's saying: "I'm Min Yoongi".

The girl is smiling now once again, and it's a kind smile, even though it seems a bit confused, and she nods her head, Yoongi's eyes following her as if in trance. "Umm… Nice to meet you, Min Yoongi. I'm Y/L/N Y/N".

Somehow, even her name inspires him, and Suga can't help but break into a smile, pulling down his face mask to reveal the gummies peaking through his pink lips. "Y/L/N Y/N. It's nice to meet you, too".

Jung Hoseok:

Jung Hoseok strolls through the wide expanses of bright green grass, the white bucket hat on his head not doing much to hide the sunlight streaming through the tall oak trees in the park.

It's a nice day outside, the perfect day to take a walk around the lovely park next to the Bighit company building, and J-hope was enjoying the chirping of the birds and the warmth of the sun as he walks, letting his mind wander off his idol life and different responsibilities.

BTS was very busy lately, and being one of the writers and choreographers of their newest album, and an important member, J-hope could practically feel Bang PD breathing down his neck these days.

Humming softly to the song playing on the white airpods in his ears, "Make it Mine" by Jason Mraz, the brown-haired man matches his light steps to the upbeat tune, letting his eyes flutter shut when a refreshing wind brushes past him, ruffling his thin white t-shirt and loose gray knee-long pants.

A soft brush against his leg makes J-hope let out a shriek of surprise, his eyes opening at once as he jumps back, the hat on his head almost falling to the ground beneath him.

There's a small creature at the spot where Hoseok was a few moments ago, a cute white Pomeranian, tiny enough to fit in Hoseok's arms easily, looking like a female version of Yeontan.

The dog is looking at J-hope with interest, an almost confused expression on its face, like he can't imagine why the human in front of him would ever be scared of him, and J-hope lets out a sigh of relief, crouching down to the furry animal's height.

"Hey, buddy", he says with a gentle smile, running a warm hand through the dog's soft white coat, "Did I scare you? You scared me, too", he chuckles, examining the dog's well-kept appearance and light pink leather collar with a golden clasp. This dog obviously has an owner, and a good one at that.

"Where's your owner? Hmm?", Hoseok asks, raising his head to look around the mostly empty park and then back to the dog, who was still looking at him with intelligent black eyes, answering by licking the palm of J-hope's hand with his small pink tongue.

Before J-hope can check the collar, maybe look for a name or a phone number on the other side, there are footsteps approaching him quickly, and then a girl is crouching on the ground next to him, gathering the dog into her hands with mumbled apologies to J-hope and frantic kisses to her pet.

She's young, maybe a few years younger than J-hope, and a foreigner, if her appearance and accent were anything to go by. She was wearing a simple beige shirt tucked into faded mom jeans and mustard-colored sneakers, and her hair streamed down her back in dark waves, strands of it covering her face from her run a few moments ago.

"I'm so sorry", she repeats again, finally releasing the dog in her arms and turning to J-hope, her dark eyes wide with sincerity and a dark blush high on her cheeks as she bows her head multiple times, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of her.

"It's fine, really", Hoseok says with a laugh of reassurance, waving his hand to signal that he wasn't annoyed in any way. "Your dog is adorable. What's his name?"

The girl looks relieved, a deep sigh escaping her pink lips after seeing J-hope's gentle smile, and she smiles back, the shy gesture sending the young man's heart into a frenzy.

"It's a girl, actually.", she says with a grin, running a small hand through the dog's long fur, the pet purring in content at the feeling. "Her name is Bella".

"Nice name", J-hope says, blushing slightly before raising his head once again to look at the girl. "And what's yours?"

The girl seems flustered for a second, her eyes widening slightly before she smiles again, reaching her hand out towards J-hope's jittering figure. "I'm Y/L/N Y/N".

Breaking into a large grin at the sound of the answer, Hoseok doesn't hesitate to shake her hand back, feeling his body buzz with uncontained excitement at the feeling of girl's skin against his own. "Your name is even prettier. I'm J-hope."

Kim Namjoon:

Namjoon firmly believed that the best way to reduce stress was going book shopping, no matter how much teasing it earned him from the rest of the members.

Pushing his golden-rimmed glasses up his nose, RM runs his hand across the shelf of books, enjoying the feeling of the different covers against his skin, from old leather to fresh paper, the pages making a satisfying sound when they catch on his fingers.

Namjoon loves this. The smell of the wood shelves, the soft lamps washing the room in warm lighting, the flowery armchairs waiting to be sat on, the calming silence, the centuries of history and dreams this place is filled with.

He doesn't know what he's looking for, he never does, but he always finds it in the end, and right now his body is leading him deeper and deeper into the long aisles, where the books are older and thicker, the colorful book-covers fading into hues of black and brown.

As if on their own, his eyes are drawn to a particular book, bound in a thick leather cover, the words "Candide" engraved in the material in cursive writing, barely understood from RM's spot just a few metres away.

It didn't look any different from most of the novels in this section, yet Namjoon still finds himself fastening the pace of his walk, his hand reaching out to grab the worn out book before another hand appears in front of his own, a feminine hand with long, thin fingers and manicured nails colored a soft apricot.

Namjoon retracts his hand immediately from the warm touch before looking up, his eyes wide when he sees the pretty girl in front of him, smiling sheepishly.

Her hair is dark and long, falling over her shoulder in a simple braid. She's shorter than Namjoon, petite, with a small waist and baby face, and she's wearing a simple mint t-shirt with buttons, tucked into classy white dress pants and white sneakers.

"I'm sorry", she apologies with a kind smile, bowing at Namjoon quickly, "Take it. You were here first."

Namjoon is too fascinated by the girl to even answer, and he feels his face heat up when he realizes he's been staring at her dumbly for the past few seconds.

Laughing awkwardly, the tall man runs a hand through his chocolate brown hair, not even caring if he was messing it up, before gesturing towards the young woman. "No, no, it's fine. You can have it, I was just looking."

The young woman seems confused and slightly uncomfortable, staring at Namjoon with dark calculating eyes. "Are you sure? I've read this book already, so it's not a big deal."

'She's smart, too', Namjoon thinks, his heart racing even faster with the growing feeling that this girl was special.

"Me, too", he says with a dimpled smile, "But I get you. Masterpieces need to be read more than once", he jokes, enjoying the girl's gentle laughter in the quiet space.

"Exactly", she agrees, a comfortable silence falling between them before Namjoon clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Can I ask… What's your name?", he questions hesitantly, hoping the girl can't see the blush on his cheeks in the dim light of the room.

The young woman smiles, and maybe it's just his imagination, but Namjoon swears the library seems less dusty and old, as if the girl revived the tired room with her joy. "Y/L/N Y/N. And you?".

"Kim Namjoon", the older man says, reaching his hand out to shake the girl's delicate one, the electricity he felt the first time he touched her changing into something warmer, like a pool of fire in his stomach, yet just as powerful. "It's nice to meet you."

Park Jimin:

Jimin stares at the mirror of the changing room, trying to resist the urge to run a hand through his currently pink hair, already set to perfection by his hair stylist, who would very much not appreciate her hard work being ruined.

He's already wearing the clothes for their "Boy with Love" performance on the BBMA's: an elegant black suit jacket with a metal flower attached to the dash, matching dress pants, a simple white shirt, an assortment of silver jewelry on his ears and hands, and a pair of pink-tinted sunglasses to top it all off.

The only thing that was missing was his makeup, which was usually done as close as possible to the actual show, to avoid smudges and so on. In fact, the makeup artist should be here any minute now.

Jimin turns away from the mirror when he hears the sound of conversation outside his room, looking at the door curiously just as it opens and foreign girl enters the changing room, a small smile on her face.

She's pretty, Jimin notices immediately, with her petite yet curvy frame, the glossy, dark hair tied into a tight ponytail on the top of her head, the subtle makeup on her face, highlighting her delicate facial features, and her tanned skin.

She's wearing a simple black t-shirt, the kind you can find in any closet basically, tucked into ripped skinny jeans, and worn out white sneakers, yet she still looks better than Jimin feels.

"Hello, you must be Jimin-ssi.", she says in perfect Korean, bowing respectfully at the coral-haired man, who was still shocked at the fact that this beautiful foreigner is here, and knows Korean.

"I'm your new makeup artist, Y/L/N Y/N", the young woman continues, seemingly not noticing the idol's flustered state. "Should we get started?"

Jimin finally seems to get back to his senses, bowing his head lightly back at the makeup artist. His heart was still racing a hundred miles an hour, and he can't believe this girl will be mere centimeters away from his face in a few seconds.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N-ssi. Feel free to start whenever you're ready.", he says softly, smiling at the girl sweetly and feeling a small smirk form on his lips when Y/N blushes lightly, her gaze flitting to the floor when Jimin stares at her for a second too long.

Y/N nods, letting Jimin sit down at the black leather chair, in front of the mirror where bright lights are facing the young man, illuminating his skin and making it easier for her to see what she is doing.

Jimin can't help but shiver when Y/N crouches beside him, her head almost touching his own, and he resists the urge to scream because her dark, warm eyes are staring at him with so much focus, and he feels as if she can see straight into his soul.

He decides not to talk to the beautiful makeup artist right now, not wanting to distract her from her work, but he's relieved at the thought that she'll be working with them the rest of the time they're in the USA, guaranteeing plenty of opportunities to talk with the girl.

Y/L/N Y/N. Jimin knows he won't forget that name.

Kim Taehyung:

Taehyung was tired, even though no one would ever notice it. Although he usually enjoyed fansigns, their latest comeback, "ON", left him more exhausted than usual, and he hated himself for hardly being able to keep his eyes open.

Another fan passes by in a blink of an eye, squeezing his hands in her own tightly while shouting 'I love you' as she leaves, and Taehyung responds with his own wink and finger heart, making the young girl squeal, and for a second the young man forgets the exhaustion seeping through his bones, the immense love he feels for his fans overcoming all the other emotions, yet the guilt doesn't disappear.

He puts a cute flower crown on his hair, made out of an assortment of white and pink daisies, the colorful accessory looking even brighter against his curly black locks and black leather jacket.

Taehyung smiles when he hears his fans yell various compliments at the sight of him with the cute accessory, waving them hello and causing the screams to strengthen even more.

He's so busy with entertaining the fans, he doesn't even notice the girl in front of him until she's letting out a quiet 'hello', causing Taehyung to turn his head and face the young woman in front of him.

She's pretty, with a petite body tucked into a thin, tight white long-sleeved shirt and a short denim skirt, showcasing toned legs and a small waist.

Her hair is long and dark, falling to her waist in luscious waves, but the shiny curls don't look styled, as if this was her natural hair. Her eyes are big and dark, her face small and cute-looking, with a button nose and plump lips, and she's hugging BTS' newest album to her chest tightly, as if treasuring it.

It wasn't the first time Taehyung saw a beautiful fan at one of their fansigns. In fact, all of their fans looked gorgeous to him, but even when one catches his eye more than the rest, he was usually really good at hiding it, making sure to give everyone his equal attention.

But this girl, something about the look in her eyes, the way she tucks a dark strand behind her ear, the pink blush on her round cheeks, the way her hands shake when she hands the album over to Taehyung, eyes widening slightly when their fingers brush.

Taehyung was a professional, yet he finds himself smiling warmly at the girl, reaching out to her and intertwining their fingers, a feeling of euphoria rushing through his body when he feels the fan's soft skin against his own.

"Hello", he finally answers, tilting his head down slightly to try and catch the girl's eyes, which were continuously fleeting away from him. "Why are you hiding from me?"

The girl seems bewildered at the question, and Taehyung can't help but thinks it's adorable, the way her doe eyes widen slightly, pink lips opening in surprise to reveal a row of perfect white teeth, but he resists the urge to smile towards the girl, instead keeping a small pout on his face, pretending to be disappointed.

"I'm sorry, I'm just shy", the girl mumbles then, lifting her eyes up almost forcefully to meet Taehyung's, before they fall back to their locked hands after a second, making Taehyung finally let out a deep chuckle, his acting long forgotten.

"You'll regret it later if you won't look at me now. Plus, I want to see your face, too", Taehyung explains, smiling in satisfaction when the fangirl lifts her head once again after a moment of hesitation, keeping her eyes on the idol's determinantly, despite the darkening blush on her cheeks.

"Woo-hoo", Taehyung cheers, releasing their joined hands to clap them together loudly, and the young woman laughs, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, but V can still hear the giggles escaping her mouth, sweet and melodic, and he thinks how much he'd love to hear it again.

"Now that I can see your pretty face, I should probably ask for your name.", Taehyung says with a grin, and the girl bows her head respectfully before saying, "I'm Y/L/N Y/N".

Taehyung still doesn't quite know what he's going to do, but knowing the fan's name, knowing she loves him, lights a spark of hope in his chest. "To, Y/L/N Y/N…"

Jeon Jungkook:

Jungkook likes practicing at 5 a.m in the morning, even if it means waking up before the sun is awake, when it's still dark outside, stumbling into the elevator of Bighit and pressing blindly on all the buttons until he reaches the right floor.

But there is also some good in working out so early in the morning. On days like this, when Jungkook was practicing for BTS' upcoming album until 3 in the morning, it's pretty pointless going back to his apartment, only to come back a few hours later. It's a lot easier to stay in the building, sleep on the comfortable blue sofa, and wake up two hours later to do his daily workout, without any disturbances.

Pushing open the opaque glass door with the palm of his hand, Jungkook muffles another yawn in the sleeve of his oversized black t-shirt. He's still wearing his sweat-filled clothes from practice, with the black Nike sneakers and gray sweatpants, but it doesn't really matter if he's going to sweat again.

His eyesight is still blurry and filled with tears of sleep-loss when he hops on the treadmill, but after a few minutes of jogging with his mind in haze, Jungkook starts to come back to his senses, the familiar adrenaline pumping in his veins.

It's when Jungkook is doing his deadlift workout routine, the muscles in his arms and thighs straining and his black long hair matted to his forehead with sweat, that the door to the gym opens suddenly, and Jungkook almost drops the weights he was holding from the surprise.

Standing in the entrance is a young woman, around Jungkook's age or maybe even younger. Judging by the black leggings she's wearing, the white crop top and the matching white sneakers, all Nike, the girl came to workout, just like the maknae of BTS.

Her dark hair is pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head, strands of it framing her small face, and her eyes are wide with shock at the sight of the young, sweaty man in front of her.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you", she says quickly, before Jungkook can even think what to say, the dark-haired man too busy admiring the girl's obvious curves and now, the honey-like sound of her voice.

"I thought the gym would be empty at this hour… I'll go now, sir.", the girl exclaims, bowing to Jungkook deeply before she's turning around, and that's when Jungkook comes back to reality, placing the weights on the ground and ignoring the screaming pain in his whole body.

"Wait, don't go.", He shouts just as the girl steps outside of the gym, and she turns around, her eyebrows raised slightly in confusion when Jungkook blushes, scratching the back of his sheepishly.

"You work here, don't you?", he inquires, relief seeping through his veins when the young woman nods, responding: "I'm actually new here. I work as one of the producers for BTS."

"Well, lucky for you, I'm Jungkook from BTS", Jungkook says, a small smile appearing at his face at the display of horror on the girl's face, "And this gym is for the use of the staff too, so…", he gestures to the vast space around vaguely, hoping he doesn't sound too hopeful when he waits for the producer to answer.

To his slight surprise, the woman steps into the room after a moment of hesitation, shouldering off her black Nike duffle bag and letting it fall to the ground. "Thank you, Jungkook-ssi", she says politely, bowing once again, a cute blush covering her cheeks like fairy dust.

Jungkook can feel himself blushing as well, the need to turn his head when he sees the young woman start to stretch overwhelming, so he clears his throat, taking a long gulp of water before saying. "It's no problem, Producer…?", his voice trails off slightly, and the woman smiles at him through the mirrors lining the walls, her bright grin and sparkly eyes forcing Jungkook to look away, his ears burning.

"Y/L/N Y/N, sir", she responds, and Jungkook hums in understanding, putting the cap back on the water bottle and examining the slight shake in his hand in distaste. So much for being a worldwide famous idol, when he couldn't even talk to a girl.

"Well… Welcome to Bighit, Y/L/N Y/N. I hope we'll be together for a long time.", Jungkook congratulates with a sincere smile. 'In more ways than one', he thinks.

[suckerforsmylex]

Ripe Peach Pt. 9

Peaches was exhausted and despite her best efforts, fell fast asleep in the passenger seat of the speeding car, buckled up and naked, save for The Joker’s blazer. He had drained every last drop of energy from her and a wave unshakable sleepiness hung thick and heavy, until slumber finally enveloped her completely. It was as if he had given her a strong sedative, despite him swerving all over the road and driving with his usual, unfettered zeal. Each jerky motion felt like being rocked as she slept. Her sleep was so deep, that she eventually would only recall pieces of the night they returned to the hideout.

She heard the pop of the car door being opened as J came around to coax her out of it. She heard the clacking of his expensive dress shoes, and felt the cool marble on the pads of her feet as he led her, like a foolish girl who had drank too much, up the staircase. It smelled of summer lilac, honeyed peaches and amber in the expansive master bedroom, where Nico’s candles lay burning.

Instinctively, Peaches inhaled deeply as her nose grazed the inside of The Joker’s neck, his skin cool and smelling of gun powder and bergamot and musk. It was the only thing that woke her for more than a couple of seconds, her eyes darting over him and then getting heavy again as her grinned down into her soft, sweet face. She lay, seemingly lifeless, on the plush comforter beneath her, the silky pillow easing her into a peaceful and profound obscurity. And then she woke up.

Peaches eyes fluttered open to find herself in a pitch-black room. The candles that were previously burning, had been extinguished and the entire room was draped in heavy, black-out curtains. She lay in the opulent bed and stretched her entire body, starting from her toes, all the way to her outstretched fingertips and then sat up and flipped on a small lamp on the end table beside her. Immerging out of the indulgent coverlet, she found herself completely nude and illuminated by the soft light.

Rich, purple tapestries covered almost every surface, accented by gold-leaf and a perfectly polished marble floor. She tried to ascertain the time, but there were no clocks in the room. Her purse and wallet had been placed neatly on an adjacent dresser, alongside a bottle of fancy water, but she couldn’t find her phone anywhere. Peaches cracked the bottle open, chugged it greedily and then tip-toed out of the room. She wasn’t inherently sure why she was being so cautious; it just felt like the right thing to do. Now, the marble floor was bitterly cold against her bare feet as she walked softly down a dimly lit, extensive corridor, in the silky bedsheet she had slept in, to the nearest bathroom.

Unsurprisingly, the Joker had spared no expense in this in room as well, and it was a luxurious, spa-like experience once she entered. The entire hideout was an extravagant, Russian design and the bathroom not unlike the bedroom, was one of its jewels. The heated floor was a welcomed respite and led into a spacious room, complete with an enormous soaking tub and solid, gold fixtures against the marble ivory and gold covered walls.

She decided to take a long, hot shower and as she stepped inside the large compartment, she realized that it was probably half the size of her own apartment. Encased in thick tempered glass, the shower was equipped with wide, double rain shower heads, warm, wrap-around teak benches and what looked like a sound system or control panel. Every luxury soap, cleanser or moisturizer she could dream of, lined the walls and she exited, feeling fresh and smelling expensive. She wrapped herself in a fluffy “J” monogramed towel and went back into the bedroom to rummage through the drawers for something to wear.

Nico had prepared a couple of outfits just for Peaches, anticipating her stay and ensuring enough appropriate attire to not disturb the daytime help unless absolutely necessary. Peaches put on an oversized, long-sleeve, black, knit sweater, a pair of black panties and some long, black knee-high socks. She sat down and combed out her damp hair and tried to decide if she should go looking for him.

As she curled up on a sumptuous, violet chaise lounge, she started to ruminate on him, allowing her mind to wander freely and without judgment for the way he made her feel. She thought about the way his slick, chartreuse hair fell into his eyes when he got excited, and about how the dark ink of his tattoos contrasted beautifully against his near translucent skin. She thought about his long fingers, like that of a pianist, and felt overcome with hot emotion.

It was simultaneously sexy and embarrassing to think of him. Every interaction with The Joker had been lust-filled and tumultuous. He was able to completely exert his dominance and ownership over her and she couldn’t explain why. He was a criminal of the worst kind, yet it only served to turn her on even more when she thought about the things, he might have done and the crimes he might have committed.

Her whole body flushed as she thought about the previous night and how he’d ravaged her inside and on top of the car, amidst the passing cars on the highway. She thought about all of the things he said and did to her. She thought about the cane. These were things that she’d allowed and she was humiliated to admit to herself that she had enjoyed them. Not only had she enjoyed them, but she now found herself craving these things. Up until recently, her body was not a positive in her life. It was a sign of her failures or at best, a hope or an opportunity for improvement. The Joker left no room for any of those perceptions. His thoughts, words and actions took over everything he laid his stony blue eyes on, including her.

All that thinking had left her skin warm to the touch and she swallowed thickly, feeling thirsty and a little hungry. She tread softly, out of the room and downstairs, looking for the kitchen to get a glass of water and something to nibble on. The loft was enormous, quiet and dusky and she made her way through the living room gingerly, not wanting to knock over anything or walk into any walls. She peeked her head to the left noticing a glowing light, coming from beyond a closed door.

Turning the knob, she found a narrow stairwell and started to descend it, too curious to stop herself as her feet moved quickly down the glass stairs. The lights shone a bright blue as she continued down the spiral staircase and she finally stopped at the bottom to take in the enormity of the room. It was wall-to-wall steel, glass and equipped with a full sink, white countertops, rolling chairs, an examination chair and an immaculate, sparkling white floor. It was a sterile and cold environment. The table tops were filled with Bunsen burners, heavy beakers, flasks, test tubes and cylinders in various states of use. Adjacent to the tops were trays with forceps, scoopulas and stirring rods.

This was the Joker’s personal laboratory. Peaches walked around, hesitantly snooping, and reading the labels on the concoctions lining the walls. Countless injectables, pills and gasses, filled the sleek, meticulously labeled cases, penned with the names of poisons and weapons he had developed and tested himself here in the lab. She ran her fingers along the glass as she read the names to herself and walked along leisurely:

Smylex #3. Smylex Bombs. Joker Toxin. Joker Venom. Joker Gas #1. Acid Cheer. ‘Happy Gas.’

“Hello, my little peach. I see you’re busy putting your fingers in places where they don’t belong again.”

His voice was a dusky, velvety surprise and she jumped, shrieking and knocking into a wall of glass tubes, toppling them over and breaking them all over the pristine ground. “Oh my God J, I’m so sorry, I….I…was just looking for the kitchen and I…” The Joker stepped forward aggressively.

“What did you just call me?”

His eyes were cold as she stood there with her mouth agape. “Uhh...I’m sorry, Daddy? I meant to say Daddy.” He continued to stand there, glaring and breathing heavily and she quickly dropped down to her hands and knees to try to scoop up the glass. In her haste, she sliced a deep gash into her middle finger with a thick, broken shard. “Tssss…Ouch!” The blood spattered onto the floor and she quickly gripped the gash with her other hand and looked up at him with a worried look.

“Come and sit here, so Daddy can patch you up.”

He stood there, next to a leather examination chair and patted the seat firmly. Peaches gulped and scooted into the chair, drinking him in as he turned to open a first aid kit and get out the necessary bandages and antiseptic. He was dressed in his usual kind of attire, a white button down, dress pants and those expensive shoes she adored, with the usual, slicked back hair, however his gold chains were tucked and his shirt was buttoned to the top. He wore a white lab coat, thick black glasses and purple latex gloves. He rapidly turned to face her and when he caught her looking at him, he grinned wide and gave her a devilish grin until she blushed profusely.

“Give me your hand, naughty girl.”

She extended her hand reluctantly, revealing that the fresh cut was deep and still producing droplets of deep, red blood. Without a word, The Joker inserted her finger into his mouth, suckling the blood off of it slowly. She instantly gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed by the feeling of the pink muscle against her injured digit. Encouraged by her reaction, he ran her entire hand under the faucet of the lab sink, never taking his eyes off his task, even as Peached watched him intently. He lathered her hand up with soap and carefully rinsed it off, drying it with a hand towel.

“This is going to sting, baby,” he said, with a wide grin that reached his bright eyes.

He took a cotton ball steeped in alcohol and pressed it into her raw wound, rubbing up and down, with an aggressive motion. “Owwww!” Peaches let out a helpless whimper as her nipples hardened beneath her sweater and then he was blowing cool air on her finger; his crimson lips pursed, as his eyes bore into hers. Lastly, he rubbed an ointment onto the cut and wrapped a bandage around it.

“What do you say peaches?” The Joker chided, as he smoothed the band-aid onto her finger with his thumb. “Thank you, Daddy.” Peaches blushed again as she thanked him and as she did, he gripped her chin in his palm and places a series of kissed on her open mouth. Suddenly, J slammed his fist on a button she hadn’t seen before and her embarrassment and arousal turned to sheer terror as metal clamps rose out of the chair at the ankles and wrists and bound her to it, fastening her in, helpless and confused.

“What are you doing?!” Her eyes darted around the room and she plead for him to respond as he paced towards the case with the toxins inside of it and removed a vile of Smylex #3 and a syringe. “Daddy, please, please, please! I’m sorry! I won’t break any more of your things again. Please, I’ll do anything you ask!” The very last statement made The Joker lift his head and throw it back on his shoulders as her began laughing maniacally. The sound of his cackle reverberated against the walls as her entire life flashed before her eyes.

He began drawing a quantity of the Smylex formula in the needle, stopping to show her his metal-toothed grin, as a green bead of toxin dribbled from its tip.

Was I just a toy for him to play with? Am I just an experiment? Oh my God he’s going to kill me!

Peaches gripped the arms of the chair as he wiped her inner arm down with alcohol, and then injected the needle rapidly, drawing the plunger out and then pushing it back down, until all the Smylex was discharged.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

[deathonyourtongue]

Henry taking you on a carnival on your birthday hc?

Okay, so I took inspiration from the descriptions of the circus in The Night Circus, which is by far my favorite description of a carnival/circus I’ve ever read. Wish it existed in real life! The song I was listening to while writing this is Zoetrope by Joep Beving

You’ve told Henry a million times that theme parks and carnivals are a waste of money on you. You’re afraid of heights and falling, and that cancels out most, if not all of the rides. With most carnivals not having an extravagant budget for more complicated rides that use the latest technology, every time you’ve gone to one, you’ve been left wandering aimlessly, looking at games of chance that are impossible to beat, and food that is as overpriced as it is unhealthy. On a whole, you’d rather spend an evening watching a movie than watching others have fun.

Which is why, when Henry comes home one day with tickets to a carnival and an excited grin on his face, you can’t help but feel crestfallen. This is not how you’d planned on spending your anniversary with him and the fact that he’s forgotten your fears only makes you feel worse. 

“Before you say anything, just know that I full well remember that rides are useless and games of chance are a waste of money. This is not that. This will be a night you’ll never forget.” He says, reading your body language in seconds, one hand lifted in defense of the barrage he knows is coming. Sighing, you stick out your hand, palm facing up, wanting to see the ticket. If you’re being dragged somewhere, you at least want to know where you’re going. 

You’re surprised when the ticket placed in your hand has heft to it. Most tickets nowadays are the definition of cheap, with the print disappearing in weeks, and the paper ripping at the slightest glance. This one is different. 

Printed on textured cardstock the color of midnight, it takes you a moment to realize the writing isn’t pressed, but handwritten in elegant, flowing script. The ink reminds you of fireflies in the garden, not quite gold, but not quite silver either. You spend far longer than you imagine entranced by how the light reflects off the letters. 

Le Carnaval de L'éphémère

One night only. Never to return. 

Opens at dusk and not before.

“Now I have your attention,” Henry smiles, knowing your obsession with stationery and calligraphy. 

“Did you make this?” You can’t help but ask, even though the question sounds stupid the moment it leaves your mouth. Henry laughs and shakes his head. 

“Bought and paid for. Like the card says, one night only, love.” 

Your favorite part of October are the smells, and not for the first time, you’re grateful your anniversary with Henry falls nearly on Halloween. Every wonderful scent in the world–his included–is at full bloom right before the world falls asleep in Winter’s icy grasp, and summer aside, it’s the season where you feel the most alive. 

Holding onto Henry’s bicep, you keep time with his long strides, his steps leading to Kynance, the mews not too far from the one you both live on, but far more idiosyncratic and interesting. The archway that marks the beginning of the street brings up a thought in your mind, and you can’t help but feel your curiosity yet again piqued in the same way it had been when Henry handed you the ticket.

“Isn’t Kynance a dead-end?” You ask, swearing you remember a dark brown double-gate at the end of the road. Squinting, you realize that the gate you remember is no longer there, replaced by a large iron gate behind which stands an old-fashioned ticket booth. Henry just shrugs, his smile broadcasting the same excitement you feel growing in you with each step you take closer to the end of the mews. 

There’s a few people already waiting when you get there, bundled up in various degrees of cold weather gear. Knowing you have the advantage of living with a human furnace, when the two of you settle in your spot, you simply slip your arms in between Henry and his plaid jacket, instantly shielding yourself not only from the cold, but from the slight breeze that twists and dances through the narrow road in a way you’ve never felt in any other mews. 

Henry graciously wraps his arms around you, turning you both so that you’re parallel to the gate and can take a moment to appreciate how the sunset plays off the gilded edges of the ticketbooth. You notice a large, meticulously-constructed clock at the top of the booth, the numbers replaced with only two words where 12 and 6 would normally be; Dusk and Dawn are the only markers of time on this particular chronograph, and you recall the words on the ticket with a smile. Whatever this is, they’re leaning into it hard and you appreciate it greatly. 

You tip your head up to press a kiss to Henry’s lips, his arms squeezing you tighter as a breeze seems to wrap around the two of you like a tornado. Pulling away, you both look at each other like children on Christmas morning, adventure and wonder filling the air. Your eyes turn to the sunset, mesmerized by the waves of pink and purple in the sky; a sunset rare for this part of the country, especially with winter fast approaching. Resting your head on Henry’s chest, you can’t keep the smile from your face if you tried. 

A deep tintinnabulation causes you to lift your head, and looking at the ticket booth, you realize the clock has hit Dusk. The carnival is open and your night has just begun.

When the curtain draws back on the ticket booth, you nearly gasp to see not a person, but an automaton behind the glass. Impeccably painted, the animated machine holds out a hand and takes the ticket, inspecting it briefly before stamping the back with the same ink used in the hand lettering and returning it to the waiting patron. With each person, it gives a different greeting, and when it’s yours and Henry’s turn, you eagerly await what it has to say. 

Stamped and handed back, the automaton looks up at you and briefly, you wonder if there’s not life behind the glass eyes in its papier mache skull. 

“Two lovers by a moss-grown spring: They leaned soft cheeks together there, Mingled the dark and sunny hair, And heard the wooing thrushes sing.O budding time! O love’s blest prime!”

The accent is appropriately 18th century, and you hear Henry snort above you, his face holding nothing but amusement. “The lady knows her Eliot,” he remarks with a raised eyebrow, taking his ticket back and keeping you close as you step forwards to heavy black and white striped curtain. You can’t help but smile when you feel Henry’s one-handed grip on you tighten as he peels back the curtain with the other hand. 

A gasp does leave you this time, as you’re met with a narrow corridor, lit only by small flecks of light that dance around as though in their own orbit. Fog floats at your feet, and ozone floods your nostrils. You keep both arms wrapped around Henry’s torso as he guides you through, knowing full well you’re nearly night blind. 

The corridor twists and turns in impossible directions given its geographical location, and for a moment your mind goes to the Bermuda triangle and alternate universes. There’s no way the city allowed them (whoever they are) to take up so much public space and alter it in such a way as to confuse the carnival-goers into thinking they’ve entered another realm. After what feels liked an eternity, you and Henry find yourselves at another curtain.

You watch the confusion and excitement light up in Henry’s eyes after he lifts the second curtain, bringing you into open square. Intricate parquet floors gleam from the rays of a moon that seems too close to be your own. Other guests mill about, all with the same slack-jawed expression of awe that both you and Henry are wearing. In the center of the square stands an iron cage with cutouts designed to look like trapeze artists, lions, tigers, and tents. Inside burns a fire that you swear changes color each time you blink. Henry has to physically move you towards the first tent. 

With the same gilded lettering as the ticket, the tent is titled simply, and though you swear it’s your night blindness playing tricks on you, the lights around the sign seem to dance in circles around the letters. 

Hall of Mirrors

Looking at Henry, you can’t refuse the boyish grin he gives you, letting him lead you in through another heavy curtain, into an even darker space. When your eyes adjust, you see each mirror is lit by a single, flickering candle and you can’t stop yourself from stepping up to the first one that’s at eye level to you. Rather than your own reflection, you find a scene that brings tears to your eyes immediately. In a grassy field sits the man you love, a warm creme-colored sweater setting him apart from the sea of green. In his arms is an infant, little hands curling around Henry’s chin as it coos and gurgles happily. Finally, you enter the frame, another infant held in your arms, the smile that lights Henry’s face one you won’t soon forget. 

“You alright, love?” Henry asks even though his eyes don’t move away from the mirror he’s gazing into. You squeeze him tight and wipe your eyes, smiling up at him after giving him a little jostle. When he meets your gaze, you’re not surprised to see the same, sappy look on his features that you yourself are wearing. 

“I love you,” he whispers, a breeze ruffling through his curls as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead even as the air guides you out of the tent. You return the sentiment with a kiss to his sternum and a rub to his back, the scene still playing vividly in your head. 

A scent catches your attention as you step back into the moonlit square, and without even needing to look up, you feel Henry tug you in the direction it’s coming from. Salted caramel and exotic spices mingle in the air, creating an otherworldly smell that you wish you could bottle up. Arriving at the stand, you marvel at the different offerings, all delivered by a different automaton dressed much like an 18th century baker would be. 

Without a word, the doll hands each of you a bag of caramel corn, drizzles of chocolate and a sprinkle of cinnamon binding everything into one mouth-watering treat. The doll’s eyes indicate that the two of you should move and Henry quickly shuffles you out of the way and accidentally into another tent.

Though you miss the sign, there’s no question as to its contents the fur brushes your hand. Looking down, you’re met with a white Siberian tiger, its frost-colored eyes gazing up at you with curiosity. The animal chuffs and purrs, rubbing itself against you before moving on to another patron. 

“Henry,” you whisper before moving your gaze and finding a veritable pack of large cats prowling the interior of the tent, none of them seeming all that interested in the prey that walked right into their space. You side-step when Henry gets nudged by a full-grown lion, its main a beautiful sunlit gold, the cat nuzzling against Henry until he gets pet. Henry laughs, the sound equal parts joy and surprise, neither of you understanding how it’s possible. 

You get braver with each step, and soon you’re petting puma while Henry is crouched down, getting a tongue bath from a cheetah, the fear of being mauled all but a distant memory as you enjoy what seems like a dream.

When you finally step out of the tent, both of you have to pause short as a colony of penguins waddle past, some wearing bow ties. “Henry,” you look up, befuddled, “what is this place?” Again, you get a helpless shrug, Henry’s eyes catching the moonlight and nearly making you swoon for how icy blue they look.

You all but yank Henry to the next tent, excitement rushing through you like whitewater down a mountain.

Aquatic Life

Behind the curtain is a wall of water, and you flinch thinking you’re about to get caught in a tsunami, but the water moves only in gentle waves, never once losing its vertical shape. An automaton hands each of you a paper straw, motioning for you to go forward, into the unconfined aquarium. Placing the straw in your mouth as modeled by the doll, you and Henry hang onto each other tightly as you step through the threshold. Surrounded by an oceanic warmth, you look down to find your clothes not only feel dry, but that you and Henry are both encircled in a bubble blown simply by the two of you breathing normally. 

A dolphin swims past, jarring you from your thoughts, and you look up to find a whale shark coming directly for you. Henry pulls you aside and you both stand completely still as the creature dallys past. Sea turtles, great whites, and jellyfish all move about, not caring whether they’re impossible or not. Reaching out, you touch the bell of the jellyfish, marveling when your hand comes back as dry as it went in. 

Your last stop for the night is one of the few stands that offer games of chance. Though you have a rule about them, Henry convinces you to let him play once, and you give in, unwilling to say no when he’s managed to escort you on the most magical evening you’ve ever had. 

The game is simple; on a luxuriant black velvet board, the same twinkling lights that illuminate the rest of the carnival dance. If Henry counts how many of them there are and guesses the correct number, he wins you a prize. 

Sipping on the last of his cider, you watch as he readies himself. The automaton signals and Henry begins, moving in quadrants so that he doesn’t re-count the number of lights. When the time reaches its limits, he writes his answer neatly on a piece of cardstock, handing it to the automaton. A moment’s pause and the wall behind the ornate doll slide open, revealing a choice of prizes unlike any you’ve seen at other carnivals.

You take your time in choosing, the automaton seeming to watch you as you select between antique jewelry, smaller automatons, a framed painting of a headless woman, or a plush tiger which looks handcrafted and not mass-produced. Henry says nothing, but you can see his eyes venturing to the automaton of a ballerina, so realistic and graceful its as if they miniaturized the principal dancer of the Royal Ballet.

You point at the Ballerina, and when the automaton places it in your hand, you’re delighted to find that she sits on a jewelry case, dancing to a music box version of Gymnopedie. So admiring of it are you that you nearly trample a contortionist on your way out of the kiosk area. The woman smiles understandingly from her position, reaching up with one hand to give you and Henry each a small card. 

On it, you find a fortune similar to the kind you’re used to getting inside of takeout cookies. You only read the first word before the contortionist catches your attention again, shaking her head from its spot between her knees. She indicates the music box, and without a word, you place the fortune inside, daring not read it just yet.

As you make your way out of the carnival, the first streams of sunlight filter through the starry sky, and you blink, trying to figure out how time seemed to slow inside the carnival. Just as you come to the edge of the cobbles, you hear the chiming of the bell once more, and looking back, are shocked to find the same old brown gate you remembered always being there. You say nothing to Henry, still held in thrall by the magic of the evening and not wanting to ruin it with chatter. 

You very nearly forget about the music box and the ballerina once you get home, the ache in your feet from having spent all night walking around making itself known as you sit down for the first time in nearly six hours. It’s not until the familiar tinny music begins to play again that you remember the fortune you’d tucked inside. Standing, you pad over to the box and to Henry who still seems to be in a dreamlike state, his eyes transfixed on the ballerina. 

“What did you see in the mirror?” You ask him quietly as you observe the automaton dancing on her platform. Henry’s quiet for a few moments, and when he speaks, his voice is soft and hoarse, as though he’s holding back tears. 

“I saw you standing in our kitchen, swaying back and forth, wearing my favorite dress of yours. You were smiling and there was music playing off in the distance. When you turned, you were glowing. And…” he waivers, pulling you back against him, his face tucked into the crook of your neck. “You were carrying our babies.” The words are muffled and whispered, holding so much joy and anticipation, that it puts a frog in your own throat and you can’t help but reach up and card a hand through Henry’s curls in silent hope. 

Reaching down, you open the box just as the music fades, winding it up to play anew before pulling out your fortune. You let out a wet chuckle when you read the words, and Henry squeezes you tighter, a snuffle accompanying the tears that darken the shoulder of your shirt. 

On the same beautiful black cardstock are the gilded letters, the fortune cementing the night’s theme.

After winter comes spring, and new life it brings.

[alithisuniverse]

The Rainbow Starling: Chapter One

Knock knock knock…

I stand on a doorstep, my sister awaits timidly behind me. We’ve only seen this house a few times before, it felt familiar yet unknown. It had a wooden exterior stained purple cobblestone accents. The roof was crafted out of synthetic metal but made to look like hay, and the doormat under us was worn, but could still be read as, Ves’buka la Meiho!, which roughly translated to Welcome to All! The door, with a slight creak, opened up and a warm light hit my skin, assaulting my gaze, as a taller blue-haired woman crouched down and looked at my sister and me.

“I’m glad you two finally showed up. I was getting worried. Come, come.”

She waved us in and stood up, holding open the door. I walked in holding my sister's gentle hand as she grasped mine tightly, and I brought her along. The inside of the house was decorated in a modern way. Art of many styles like abstract, pop art, surrealism, and many more decorated the lavender walls along with pictures of family, friends, and previous pets. She had some sculptures and many shelves on which various knickknacks sat upon. She slightly crouched again, pulling my sister and me into a tight hug where she kissed both of our heads. 

“Here, I see your bags. Let me take them to your room, and then I’ll be back down and I’ll make you guys some hot tea and food. You both look cold.”

My Aunt Miya, the woman who just took us into her home, was always a sweet woman. She was a Blue Starling, a race that both my sister and I were a part of as well. My sister, Coralyn, was a white Starling, and so were both of our parents. I, on the other hand, was a rainbow, Starling. I was adopted into the Galaxy family when I was a young child. I am a product from a lab, a rare starling born every couple millennia to protect the Starling Kingdom and race from any type of evildoers that don’t like us, and trust me, that’s a lot of people who don't. My Aunt was different from my sister and me. The Starlings, which are a race of sentient dust from stars, bound together by a crystal somewhere on their body, have a hierarchy in our home galaxy, the Asterii Galaxy. The top of the hierarchy is the White Starling, people like my sister. I’m also lumped in with the White Starlings because I work at the king’s orders and work alongside the noblemen. They hold this position because of royal ancestry and they were the first Starlings to be made by the creator.  The Blue Starlings, people like my Aunt, are at the very bottom of the Hierarchy. That doesn’t mean much in personality and character, it’s just a system established that pushes people for being a different colored Starling. How it currently sits hierarchy-wise is White, Red, Purple, Yellow, Orange, Green, Blue. I’m not a fan of it, but I have much more on my plate at the moment. My aunt takes the bags out of our hands and walks upstairs with them as we walk out into the kitchen, sitting down at an island in the very center of the room. The kitchen counter was made out of beautiful olive-colored marble, and the counter was held up by dark oak drawers. She had all the necessities too, a sink, an oven, a fridge, and other appliances you’d find in a typical kitchen. Coralyn rested her head down on the counter-top as her pair of cat-ears flattened upon her head. Coralyn, as mentioned, is a White Starling. She has long silverish-white hair with pink tips and a pair of cat ears on her head that also have the same pink tips. She normally wears a crème colored blouse, but currently, she’s fitted with a long-sleeved deep red shirt, a pair of worn-out blue jeans, and a puffy black jacket to keep her warm when we were on our way here. She also has a tail that is white fading into pink that at the moment is swaying low to the ground. 

I, myself, am Star. I’m currently wearing a dark burnt orange sweater, a pair of dark blue worn-out jeans, and also a puffy gray jacket. At the top of my headrests dirty yellow-blonde hair with a pair of brown bunny ears that naturally lean back. Throughout my hair, I have small specks of different colored stardust. Our hair is how we starlings store excess stardust, which can be used in many ways like art, weapons, or even clothing. The longer your hair, the stardust you have to use. My hair personally was a small bulky and curly mess. It didn’t extend down towards my back, but it had volume. As I come back to reality I hear my aunt walk up behind me and rest her hand on my back. 

“Star, Coralyn, what can I make you two eat?”

My Aunt spoke softly, but you could always tell there was a smile on her face by the way she talked. She rubbed her hand through the back of my hair, as she reached over and did the same to Coralyn. 

“Nothing, I want to head to bed.”

My sister’s high-pitched voice mumbled out from her buried face. 

“I’m fine with anything Aunt Miya, I’m not too hungry either though.”

I spoke out, my voice cracking occasionally as I’m finally hitting Starlyosis, the time in which Starlings go from children to adults.

“Hm. How about some soup? I made some home-made Kushivoo soup the other night, I can heat it up in a bowl for you.”

She spoke as she walked towards her fridge. 

I nodded my head, a slight smile cracked on my lips for a few seconds. It felt weird to smile. It’s been a tough few months for my sister and I. We’re just happy to be in a safe home. 

“Me too…. please”

My sister once again spoke out, this time slightly raising her head and holding it up with her hands pressed against her rosy cheeks.

“Okay, a bowl of soup for each of you then! It’s coming right up.”

Aunt Miya added excitement into her voice as she spoke. I’m sure she was excited to have us there as she got divorced when she turned thirty, and never had the chance to have any children. Even though my aunt’s kind and caring personality, I couldn’t help but feel like there was still tension in the air. None of us are talking about the elephant in the room—the fact my parents passed and my eldest sister disappeared only a few months ago. 

“Kids, I want your stay here to be as smooth and wonderful as I can make it, so if you ever need anything, no really anything, please tell me and I’ll fix it right up! For both of you! For either of you! Okay?”

She turns to us, smiling with a slight nervousness added to it. Maybe she’s afraid we aren’t going to like her, but that would be silly; My sister and I always looked up to my Aunt Miya. She was an explorer, an adventurer! She has since halted those dreams to start taking care of us, but you can tell that’s what she’ll always be at heart. The microwave beeps as she takes out the two bowls of soup and sets them down in front of us. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out two spoons and sets them into the bowls. The bowl was filled with a thin, purplish liquid, chunks of white meat, and various types of vegetables native to this planet. I begin to eat the soup, spoonful by spoonful. It was the best food I’ve had in a while and it warmed my body all the way to my core. Coralyn seemed to be enjoying it too as she was wolfing it down. I was happy to see her eating, as she had been eating less and less ever since the events. 

“My my! It looks like you two were hungry, huh? Well, there’s more if either of you would like some.”

My aunt’s smile becomes warmer as she sits down at the other end of the island and displays an article to read with her IRIS. An IRIS is an Intergalactic Reading Intelligence & Subconscious. It does many things like searching the intergalactic web, sending messages from one person to another all the way across the multiverse, or even something as simple as writing down documents. There is also an AI personality built into IRIS, simply referred to by that name, that will aid you in whatever you need—even if that’s just someone to talk to. The holographic article my Aunt is reading shines from a panel in her arm that rests right under her wrist. That is how you access IRIS’s interface; it’s also the older and more traditional way. My sister and I finish our soups around the same time as my aunt looks up from her article.

“Can I get you both more, or are you finished?”

She says, scooting herself out of her chair. 

“I’m done, Auntie.”

My sister spoke out, also standing up out of her chair.

“May I go lay down, I’m tired, Auntie.”

Coralyn once again speaks, pushing her bowl towards aunt Miya. I do the same, as I myself also feel pretty tired. 

Aunt Miya nods, taking the bowls, and sets them down in her sink. 

“Here, before I do the dishes let me show you to your rooms.”

She says while she walks towards the staircase. My sister and I follow behind her, staying close to one another. When we get upstairs, we walk down a short hallway as she stops between two rooms, one on her left and one on her right. 

“Star, you’re in the left room, Coralyn, you’re in the right room, okay? My room is all the way at the end of this hall, so if you need me, you know where to find me. Goodnight, little starlights.”

She pets both of our heads then kisses both of our foreheads and walks to her bedroom. 

“Star… can I sleep with you? I don’t want to sleep alone…”

Coralyn timidly speaks, grabbing the edge of her shirt. 

“Of course you can, Cor. Go get changed into some jammies, and then come into my room. Okay?”

I speak out gently, as she responds with a simple,

“Ok!”

She walks off into her room as I do the same. I walk over to my small luggage bag and pull out one of the few pairs of pajamas I brought with me. I put on a pair of fuzzy blue and white pants, decorated with a brown bear, and a shirt that matches the same theme. The pajamas I grabbed, however, were a pain as they had no hole for my little puffy bunny tail. I pull the back end of my pants down just enough for my little tail to pop out, and I turn off the light. I crawl into the bed, the mattress being surprisingly soft, as the big blue quilt covered the majority of the bed. It was warm and heavy too. My sister knocks on the door, and then slowly creaks it open as she notices I’m in bed. She steps in, and gently closes the door behind her, and waddles over towards the other side of my bed. With one small leap, she gets onto the mattress and crawls under the covers laying on her back as she stares up at the ceiling. Coralyn laid in silence, and so did I. We used to talk about something every night but recently. I then decided to break the silence.

“Do you think Kira is still out there, Cora?”

I spoke, looking over at her.

“I hope so, bubby. I hope so. I’m glad you’re still here.”

She looks at me while talking, a smile forming on her lips.

“That’s all we have now, each other. I’ll be here as long as you need me to Cora, as long as you need me to be. We only have each other and that’s all we need.”

She nods to my statement and looks back up at the ceiling staring blankly.

“I miss mom the most. Is that bad to say? I just related to her more. She always knew what to say, or how to guide us.”

Coralyn spoke emotionless, continuing to stare.

“No, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. You just related to one parent more than the other. I mean I miss Kira the most, but dad and mom still left just as big of a wound. We just related more to different people, you know?”

She nods in agreement to what is said but stays silent until turning away from me. As she does so, she sleepily speaks out,

“Goodnight Bubby.”

I pet the back of her head for a few seconds while saying,

“Goodnight Cora.”

I turn onto my stomach and put both my arms under my pillow turning my head away from Coralyn.

[babygirlofwakanda]

Season’s Greeting

CHARACTERS — Giselle X Chris Hemsworth

CONTENT — Christmas Shenanigans and Surpises!

PLOT — A little somethin’ surrounding Christmas.

NARRATIVE — Christmas has always been an event for Giselle. Dating back to her excitement and starry eyed gaze at the string lights as a child in Texas, the brown beauty’s unconditional love for the holiday hasn’t strayed throughout the decades.

Sharing her passion with her husband, Chris quickly understood the importance to Giselle and has since aided in making this time of year special for her and now for their children.

A long way from the modern style home he once knew, the six-foot four man stood in between the living room and kitchen with his hands on his hips and admired the festive changes. With an array of red, white and gold accented decor spread through the house Chris took everything in. Starting from the train track underneath the eight-foot tree, red throw pillows and holiday figurines on the tables to the mistletoe he stashed above the doorways.

Stifling out a laugh at his wife’s attention to detail the Aussie shuffled over to the mirror in the hallway and flattened his palm over his black long-sleeve shirt before sighing while looking at his TAG Heuer.

“Giselle— sweetheart! The reservation is for eight and its almost six forty-five, we gotta hit the road!”

“—I know Chris, I’m coming! Uh, just gimme like five more minutes.” He heard her promise, making Chris exhale only for him to inhale the scented pine cones dipped in various oils scattered around his house.

Whispering, “What the hell is she doing up there..” under his breath, Chris waltzed into the kitchen.

Reaching down the actor stole a couple of gumdrop from his children’s gingerbread houses, propped up against the countertop before popping a few into his mouth. Grabbing another gumdrop from the rooftop of the gingerbread house, Chris allowed the smooth harmonies of The Temptations Silent Night playing from the speakers to distract him from the time.

Alone in the kitchen with a mouth full of candy Chris tried to hold the classic ‘silent night’ note only for his gruff voice to come out in the wrong pitch. “—damn babe!” He heard Giselle’s squeak out from behind.

Turning around as Giselle’s infectious laugh echoed through the kitchen, the Aussie strolled closer and continued his singing; keeping a smile on her face.

Inching his face closer towards Giselle, he cradled her face and started to lower his face only to pause mid-motion as he admired her undeniable beauty.

Meeting him halfway Giselle lifted her face to kiss him; immediately muffling his singing. Pulling back from the tender kiss Giselle felt Chris nudge his nose against hers in a way to subliminally ask for another kiss before she placed a hand against his black silk shirt and whispered, “Let’s go.” against his lips.

“Uh, okay,” Chris groaned, as he stood straight with a pout, “—but not before you spin around for me!” He hyped, quickly replacing his frown with a sly grin.

Sliding his palm into hers, Chris lifted their hands up and motioned for her to twirl around. Gluing his eyes to her body as Giselle pivoted in a circle, he watched the silk and denim pairing clutch onto every slope of her body. Leaving Chris blinking away the lust from his orbs before she turned to him; exhaling Chris licked over his lips before he ushered them out.

Oh, how date night was Chris’s fucking favorite night. With the children out with their grandparents; Alex and Janice who arrived last night, they were out doing some last minute shopping before taking the kids to see Frozen 2 for the umpteenth time.

The clinging of silverware, small chatter and the sizzling of the food carried on the trays of passing waiters filled Giselle’s ear. Glancing around the deck Giselle admired the string lights wrapped around the balcony and beams while the dark purple hue above painted the sky as the sunsetted above the ocean.

Enthralled in the scene, Giselle felt the wind softly blow through her hair while she breathed in the salty air before shifting around. Taking ahold of her straw, she stirred the strawberry lemonade conation and gripped the glass before bringing it to her lips.

Gulping down her drink in one take she heard her husband clear his throat before his voice followed, “Uh, is everything alright?” He questioned, making Giselle slowly sink in her chair. Did he figure her out?

“No, um— I’m fine. Why, wassup?” She rebutted.

“It’s just that um— everytime we come here you order the wine,” The Australian stuttered out, before he went to nervously rub the back of his neck.

“—and as of late, you’ve been chugging down the lemonade— but it’s not just that; it’s everything.”

“Like how lately you practically start gagging on queue whenever seafood is present— which may I remind you has been your favorite food since we’ve met. Or the constant running off the bathroom and now the lemonade! Baby, you only do that when,”

“—I have your basket of garlic bread right here, your food should be out shortly.” The waiter interrupted.

Directing her gaze from Chris’s anxious face to the smiling waiter, Giselle returned his grin while silently thanking the high heavens for stopping her husband from talking his way into ruining her surprise present.

The rest of the dinner flowed nicely. After forgetting the suggestive topic he was going to discuss, Chris and Giselle ate and giggled as they thought about how their family was going to react to their gifts.

Hitting a quiet mark as her husband sipped on his tequila, Giselle knew this was her opportunity to talk to Chris. Clearing her throat, “Now, I know that we’ve agreed that we weren’t gonna spoil eachother before Christmas but I got somethin’ for you honeybun.”

Reaching into her purse Giselle slipped out a brown flat, but wide box tied with a glittery red bow before she placed it on the table and slid it towards Chris.

With her acrylics still on the box, Giselle watched Chris’s thick digits touch the other end before she flicked her orbs up to look into his. “I couldn’t wait babe, I needed to have this moment with you and only you.” She detailed, before releasing the box.

In the box contained three positive pregnancy tests and underneath was a photoset of their unborn child.

With days of denying the possibility after her sick episode in Texas, Giselle couldn’t shake the feeling but once the symptoms started to slowly arise she abruptly sent her assistant to the store. Making out the two lines with ease Giselle kept her little secret and found out she was coming along nine weeks pregnant until this very moment; this second.

Instantly feeling a wave of vulnerability travel down her spine Giselle also felt the urge of premature tears threatening to unleash as one slipped from her eye while she watched her husband’s instant reaction.

Staring at her husband Giselle saw the corners of Chris’s mouth quickly lift as he picked up one of the tests and widened his smile over the digital two lines before he put it down and caressed his thumb over the developing baby in the ultrasound pictures.

Watching the moment Chris finally looked up, the brown beauty caught the extra gloss over his eyes before he blinked and allowed a tear to fall as well.

“Giselle! Oh my— this is fucking incredible baby!”

Thankful for the secluded area, Giselle beamed as Chris abruptly jumped up; making the chair screech in the process before he jogged over to embrace her.

Standing up, Giselle was immediately wrapped in Chris’s arms as he rocked her side to side. Pressing kisses all over her head he mumbled, “I fucking love you,” gripped her face and exchanged a tearful gaze with his wife before he smashed their lips together.

——————————

The Christmas spirit was unmatched in the Hemsworth household. With everyone clad in a holiday printed onesies and slippers, drinking from their customized mugs of hot chocolate and Giselle’s playlist that included everyone from Destiny’s Child, Wham! to Alexander O’Neal playing through the tv; the family piled into the living with full stomachs from the big breakfast before passing out gifts.

“GiGi! You did not!” Iris gasped, as she slowly pulled the dust bag out of the mustard-colored Fendi box.

Hearing her sister squeal once the neon pink bag from Nicki Minaj’s collab was in her possession, the oldest sister swore she saw Iris leap across the living room just to bring Chris and her into a bear hug while she beamed. Once Iris released them and returned to baby Mia attempting to put a red bow in her mouth, Giselle continued watching her kids unwrap their gifts before she looked over her shoulder to find Chris with a silver glitter box lying in his palms.

Closely watching her husband raise the top Giselle instantly caught Chris’s blue eyes light up while his jaw falter open making the quarter million she spent all worth it for her honeybun’s priceless smile. In the box contained the car keys to a 1965 Chevy Corvair Monza with a custom baby blue paint job, cream seating, silver detailing and a full tank of gas.

After hearing countless fond memories of her husband’s childhood singled around this vehicle, Giselle knew it was only a matter of time before she had to get Chris the car he constantly ranted about.

Heart-racing from excitement the Aussie quickly picked up the keys and pressed a button abruptly making the car ring out. Immediately looking at his wife with childlike joy, Chris struggled to his feet and ran to the front door which instantly made the rest of the family follow behind in peak curiosity. Running to the driveway Chris quickly faltered his steps once his eyes landed on the replica car his father, Craig drove around when Chris was nothing but a young lad.

Picking up his pace while he unlocked the car, Chris slid in the car with door propped opened and gawked over the smooth interior. Hearing the footsteps of his family scurrying down the pavement, the surprised man took his orbs off the vehicle and brought them to Giselle who grinned as she stared back at him.

—and before he knew it, Chris was stumbling out of the car and over to her like a lovesick puppy as the family patted his back and went to admire the car.

Roughly gripping her face the Aussie scooped down and kissed Giselle to transfer his appreciation before he leaned back and pulled her frame into his while he swayed her body with his eyes closed. “Whew, I love you so fucking much girl!” He grunted, before he squeezed her tighter with his last few words.

“I love you too, honeybun. I hope you liked your gift.”

Immediately cocking his head back, Chris quickly scrunched his face up, “Liked? Girl, I love this gift.” He corrected, making Giselle’s infectious laugh ring out. Biting his lips in effort to contain his smile Chris slid his tongue over his lips as he looked down at his wife, “C’mon, I still have gifts for you.” He winked, with a nod to the house before pulling her hand.

Returning back to the living room with the family slowing filing back inside, the brown beauty retook her place back on the floor while Chris searched for a specific gift and within a few moments, the wrapped present was placed infront of her crisscrossed legs.

Grinning up at her husband, Giselle dragged her chocolate orbs away from him and turned towards her gift before she pressed her acrylics through the striped wrapping paper. Uncovering the orange box, Giselle squealed as she ran a finger over the Hermès logo engraved on the lid. After lifting the top, pulling the tissue paper back to grab the dust bag, Giselle felt her smile reach her eyes once her hand made contact with the slick fabric before pulling it out.

“Oh, shit!” She rasped, with her wide-eyes glued to the exclusive Rose Scheherazade Porosus Crocodile Birkin bag. Ghosting a hand over the reptile skin, the overjoyed wife flicked her eyes to her blue eyed beau; who now sat beside her and beamed as he observed her reaction. Throwing her arms around his neck she started placing kissing all over his face, “Thank you! Thank you!” Giselle repeated, as her family awed.

After months of procrastinating to buy this bag only to avoid the store whenever she was on Rodeo Drive, Giselle never expected Chris to catch her off guard.

“Ew!” The couple heard their kids groan whenever their affection lingering for more than thirty seconds.

Pulling away with a laugh, Giselle grabbed her latest addition to her Birkins before squealing once more.

Wrapping paper slowly began to litter the floor and sitting on the floor watching, the Hollywood couple watched on still enamored by their personal gifts.

“—good lookin’ out on the shades guys!” Liam yelled, with a thumbs up as he waved his storage case full of aviators around. Smiling at her brother-in-law, Giselle watched as her children and nieces excitedly played with their new toys while her parents and in-laws gawked over their designer trinkets and bags.

Looking up at her husband who also looked around the living room, it wasn’t long before Chris caught her eyes and the Hollywood couple shared a look.

Knowing that they had an important announcement to share with their family, Giselle sprung to her feet and grabbed a wrapped box hidden behind the tree while Chris got everybody’s attention, “Hey, hey!”

“We have something we would like to share with everyone.” His thick accent ranged out, with a touch of nervousness and excitement inflected in his tone.

“Yes, we do.” Giselle hinted, as she placed the box on the coffee table infront of where her parents and in-laws sat. “—please, everyone gather around.”

Retreating back to where her husband stood, Giselle threw her left arm around his waist while he draped his arm over her shoulder and brought her closer.

“Go on and open it.” The actress gestured, making Mama Janice and Mama Leonie carefully open the box while Papa Alex and Papa Craig looked on.

Anxiously watching her parents and in-laws raise the lid to the box, Giselle nervously leaned into Chris and lifted her hands to her face only to spread them and peak between her fingers as their shrieks echoed.

In the box contained a ultrasound picture tapped to the lid with a black letter-board in the box that read, ‘Baby Hemsworth. Due in June 2020.’ and under the board included a beige teddy bear, a baby rattle and bottle, and a folded white bodysuit and mini socks.

“—ahh! I knew it, I knew it!” Mama Janice exclaimed, as she jumped up and down before walking towards her daughter with her arms out and a bright smile.

Breaking away from her husband, Giselle was instantly immersed in the warmth of her mother’s arms. With tears of joys slipping from her chocolate orbs, the emotional beauty smiled and wiped at her tears before she was embraced by a tearful Leonie.

“Congratulations, sweetheart!” Her mother-in-law whispered, before pressing a chaste kiss to Giselle’s head and pulling away. Gushing from all the love, the actress caught her husband dapping up Quinton and Liam as they also gave their ‘congrats’ before teasing Chris on baby number four. Smiling at their moment Giselle’s eyes were quickly taken off them as small arms wrapped themselves around her abdomen.

Looking down she spotted her twins hugging her growing belly, “I love you mommy!”, “I can’t wait for the baby to come out!” Her girls squealed, before she hugged her twins and kissed their heads. As the girls skipped away to go play with their new iPads. Giselle went to go take a seat when the soft pulling of her onesie immediately caught her attention.

Dragging her eyes down Giselle instantly saw her babyboy’s ever-changing green eyes peering up at her while a frown graced his face. Twisting her own lips around the momma-bear cupped her three year olds chin before she asked what was wrong. “I don’t wanna share you.” He pouted, “C’mon Julian, your sisters had to share their time with me when you came along and now you have to do the same.”

“It doesn’t mean that mommy or daddy loves you any less, you hear me? We love you, and besides,”

Crouching down almost eyelevel to Julian, Giselle spoke to her youngest child, “—this means that you get to be a big brother Jules!” She hyped, as a smile replaced his confusion. Taking him into her arms, she cradled Julian’s body in her lap until her back leaned up against the couch, “When the baby gets older you can show them all your toys, play hide and go seek, read them stories just like your sisters do you and,”

“—and I can share my floaties when w-we go in the big ocean with daddy and my uncles!”, “—and you can share your floaties!” Giselle repeated, with a headnod while gushing at her son’s words.

Once the family calmed down from the news of a new addition, the couple sat on the floor as Chris shared his own excitement with his loved ones.

“Y’know despite all the gifts we’ve received today, my greatest gift is just being able to have y’all here and sharing the good news.” Chris smiled, while he caressed Giselle’s belly as she sat between his bent legs on the floor. “Every year you all either fly these long hours just to come to Australia or drive all the way down here to celebrate Christmas together.”

“—and we truly appreciate that.” Chris admitted, as he interlocked his fingers with Giselle as she turned back to smile at him. “We love everyone of you and we just want to wish y’all a Merry Christmas.”

Hearing the family echo back his words, Giselle gushed and leaned back into her husband’s warm arms as he continued to massage her little pudge.

They couldn’t wait for their bundle of joy arrival.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I hope everyone had a great Christmas! Let’s get this new year poppin’!

TAGLIST — @wakandas-vibranium @oceanscorazon @melaninmarvel @wakandamama @storibambino @shortstacks-blog @chaneajoyyy @klaylakayblack @ashanti-notthesinger @iamrheaspeaks @destinio1 @theunsweetenedtruth @wakanda-inspired @s0eul

[wcmi-22]

Lovely day for a picnic with a Mad man!

It was a lovely spring day in Wonderland. All the birds were singing with glee, all the children were playing in the park and may people were out and about enjoying the beautiful weather. This gave one petite blonde named Alice Liddell an idea for what she wanted to do on her day off. So the little blonde dressed in a lovely long white collared shirt with an even lovelier sky blue shirt and holding it together was stylish black lace and brown belt. She even decided to try that hairstyle Ariel had suggested to her as well.

(Sorry the second picture looks so rough!!!! But you guys get it Alice looks adorable)

She then gather her picnic basket along with the yummy cucumber sandwiches, tea, crumpets, for the basket,her red and white checkered blanket and best of all her book of poems that she simply could not put down.

Once she has all her stuff together, she finally shuts her front door and walks toward the park. Once she arrives, she notices both the beauty and the various people all gathered around the area. Some were flying kites while others fed the ducks, walk their dogs or even watched their children play on the play ground. Some of them even decided to picnic just like Alice. Which lead to a great dilemma, finding a spot.

Though Alice had been to many a year party and social affairs before in London but, when it came down to it, she was not a very social person. In fact every time she tried to be, she acted shy and quiet to the point no one could hear her. Still she was determined to do better and she was determined to get a spot!

As she looked around for a nice spot, suddenly she saw once again the bimbettes staring at her and talking about her as she went by.

“Is that the Hatter’s girlfriend?” One of them in a red dress asked.

“I believe so, can you believe her?” Said another one in the green dress.

“I know! What kind of woman hangs out with such a freak like him?” Said the one in the yellow dress.

“Another freak obviously!”

Though they thought Alice could not hear them, however, they were sorely mistaken. Because once Alice turned around, she gave them a stern hard glare at them. In response they all turned their heads simultaneously to the opposite of Alice who kept on walking away until finally she found a lovely little spot under a large oak tree with a perfect view of the lake.

There she set up her picnic and placed her food on a plate in front of her along with some tea then got out her book and started to read as she ate.

“Humph those bimbettes!” She started to think to herself. “Who do they have think they are? Having the right to judge people and their lives!? At least Reginald pays attention to me even though I don’t want him to but they can’t even get Gaston to notice them! And besides Reginald isn’t that bad!”

Suddenly, she realized what she had thought and shook her head to help her go back to her senses.

She soon forgot about the bimbettes and kept reading as she enjoyed her cucumber sandwiches that is until a oh so familiar voice called to her.

“Oh Cricket!” it shouted. Low and behold right down the hill was none other than the mad man himself, Reginald Leopold Theophilus the Third.He wore his signature green hat along with his orange overcoat, blue vest over his white collared shirt, long green pants with matching abnormally large shoes. He had in his hand a rather unusual picnic basket to say the least. In fact it wasn’t even brown like normal baskets were, it was teal with strange green and pink swirls all over it with a plum purple blanket in the inside of it appearing out of it as well.

“Oh no!” Alice thought to herself “Not him! Not today, Lord!”

Though Alice wanted to run away but sadly, it was too late because he had already managed to gallup up the hill and to her area.

“Lovely day isn’t it, cricket?” He says as he sets up his area right next to hers.

“Reginald!” Alice said sternly.

“Yes, dear cricket?” He says.

“Your being awfully rude you know!”

“Really?” Reginald questioned “How so?”

“I did not give you permission to place your blanket next to mine nor in my area!” She explained indignantly.

“It’s a free park!” Reginald explains “All the areas here are free for everyone,cricket!”

Alice only rolled her eyes at his explanation.

“But I suppose if it will make you feel better,” he says and clears his throat. “Pardon me, Miss Liddell,” he starts to ask in his most dignified voice “but may I please have the honor of sitting near your presence for the time being?”

This made Alice both shocked about how he called her Miss Liddell and a little bit annoyed about how he made fun of it.

“Or shall I be banished from this country all together?” He asks giving her a puppy dog pout.

All Alice could do was sigh, roll her eyes and say “oh alright!” Followed by a “you may stay!”

The Mad Hatter quickly day on his blanket and got out his food which surprisingly, looked quite delicious considering how mad he was about combining food. Alice even saw him one time put ketchup on his Macaroni and cheese at one of Ear’s tea parties. The thought of that memory disgusted her beyond measure.

As she gazed at his food, she noticed something rather odd! Not only did he have crumpets, earl grey tea, honey and scones, but he also had a plate of celery, peanut butter and three boxes of raisins.

She then watches as Reginald gets out a butter knife, digs into the peanut butter and places said peanut butter on each celery stick.

If that weren’t bad enough, he opens a box of raisins and sprinkles them on top of the peanut butter covered celery sticks.

Then he proceeded to take one from his plate and munch on it with all his might.

This made Alice almost sick to her stomach just to watch him eat this weird concoction he made up.

Son Reginald notices Alice watching him and swallows his snack before lifting his plate of raisin and peanut butter covered celery sticks to her.

“Want one, Cricket?” He asks smiling his toothy smile.

Alice simply humphed and said “no thank you Mr. Theophilus!”

“The Third!” He interjected before putting down his plate.

“Besides how can you eat such a odd meal such as that?!” Alice states in disgust.

“What this?”Reginald says pointing to his plate. “Why it’s only ants on a log!”

“Ants on a what now?”

“Ants on a log, my grandmother used to make me these as an after school snack when I was a boy,” he explained “they are both delicious and nutritious!”

Reginald soon picks up another one of the celery stick and crunches into it, making Alice shutter in disgust.

“Besides they have to be better than those plain cucumber sandwiches your eating there, love!” He states pointing to her plate of small sandwiches.

“They certainly are not!” Alice interjected. “I had these all the time at tea parties when I was a girl and they were delicious and best of all less messy than your silly little snack!”

“Well,” he says finishing his stick “ how do you know if you don’t like them if you don’t try them, Cricket?!” He mocks.

“Well,” she says flustered “how do you know if you don’t like my sandwiches if you don’t try them too!” Alice mocks back.

Soon, Reginald taps his mouth with a napkin, lifts his plate and serves it to Alice.

“Care to put your money where your mouth is then, my little tea cake?!” He smirks with a Cheshire grin.

“What?!” She questions.

“How about this, dear Alice! If you try my celery sticks and I have one of your sandwiches, we will both see who is right and who is chicken!” He states. “Whoever can eat the others snack without hesitation wins!”

“And wins what exactly?” Alice asks.

Reginald then thought for a moment until finally, a brilliant idea came on in his brain.

“If I win, you have to let me combine my picnic with your picnic and spend the rest of the time here with me!” He states.

“And if you lose?” Alice asks with her arms folded across her chest.

“I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the week!” He says.

Of course, Alice isn’t one to gamble but not having Reginald bother her for a week was just too good to pass on.

“You got yourself a deal!” She says and shakes Reginald’s hand.

Both soon got a piece of each other’s snack and looked at each other.

“Ok,” Reginald says “ladies first!”

Alice gulps then lifts the peanut butter And raisin covered celery up to her mouth. Her hand is shaking, she looks to Reginald who smirks his devilish smirk as he watches her.

“Ugh I can’t do it!” She yells and puts it down.

Soon Reginald takes the sandwich in his hands and before Alice knew it, eats it whole with no hesitation what so ever.

He victoriously pats his mouth with a napkin and gives another smirk to Alice.

“I guess this means I win, Cricket!” He states mockingly.

Alice was shocked at how easily he ate it “But..but ....but how? You said...”

“I said they were plain to me,” he states fixing up his picnic to mix with hers “ I never said I never had one!”

“YOU....YOU CHEATED!YOU REPTILE,YOU YOU UNHOLY NEANDERTHAL!!!!”Alice exclaims in anger.

“No I didn’t, Cricket!” Reginald states “All I said was if you try my celery sticks and I have one of your sandwiches, we will both see who is right and who is chicken!”

“I...I..” Alice started to say until she realized there was nothing to be done. After all, her father had always said to never back out of a promise that you make to someone. Although in this case, she wished she could.

Through out the picnic, though at first it was a little awkward, eventually it became quite pleasant when Reginald and Alice talked about her poetry book.

“Well personally, my favorite author would be Oscar Wilde because of my heritage.” Reginald said lying on the blanket next to her with his hat over his face and his arms behind his head.

“Wait your Irish?!”Alice said surprised.

“Yes,”Reginald says “and Scottish so by the time I get to heaven I’ll probably see my ancestors in the middle of a fight between clans.”

Alice laughed at the though of both his family’s battling it out on those fluffy clouds with their brogue accents.

“So, can you speak Celtic and Gaelic then?” Alice asked.

“Eh a little here and there depending on which one I do!” He says.

“Which one do you speak better in?”

“Well,” he says sitting up from his former position. “ I do remember a few words in Scottish Gaelic .”

“Could you speak some!” Alice said excitedly until she gains her composure “um please.” She responds dignified once more.

“Well,” the Hatter says blushing at her excitement “Alright!”

Reginald then thinks for a moment then finds the right words to say, clears his throat and says “tha gaol agam air mo nighean blonde.”

“What does that mean?” Alice said confused.

“It means I love my blonde lass, my dear cricket!” He says smiling with his goofy smile at Alice who is blushing. They gaze at each other as they sat there in silence that is until

Alice sees the sun is setting and quickly gets up.

“OHDEARLOOKATTHETIMEIBESTBEGOING!” She says in a panic as she picks up all her things “ WELL LOVELY PICNIC MR.THEOPHILUS!”

“The third!” Reginald interjects.

They soon shake hands and Alice leaves Reginald on the hill at his own private picnic and as she walked away she hears in the distance “I had a good time mo nighean blonde!” Still she does not look back but merely walks away.

Back at her estate, she tries ever so hard to gain her composure of the events that occurred.

“We have discussed this Alice!” She scolded herself. “He is not right for you! He’s silly and delusional and and and...” suddenly those words he said in the robust Scottish brogue filled her head again.

“Oh curse that Scottish accent!” She says to herself and goes into the kitchen and washes the dishes, along with her sense,for the rest of the evening.

The End

[kiruuuuu]

Siegemas Day 24

Happy holidays everyone, it’s me again! I stepped in for this day :) Once again, thank you @dualrainbow​, this event is a delight 💝💝

Today, my prompt is the very first line of the fic you find below. I hope you all enjoy it, and have a wonderful time no matter what or whether you’re celebrating! ✨ (Twitch/IQ, Rating T, fluff + emotional comfort, ~2.8k words)

.

“We made… too many cookies.”

The comedic timing is impeccable, the line delivered with perfect hesitance as to imply awareness of the understatement while hiding its undoubtedly practised nature. She’s a born people person with a knack for being charmingly endearing, and IQ is absolutely and horrifically powerless.

“This is ridiculous”, she states, deadpan, not giving away how amused she is in reality – it’s not often that she opens the door to a stunning young woman with pretty cheekbones tinted pink from the cold outside, clad in a flattering deep purple coat and holding several tin boxes in gloved hands. Patterned gloves, a row of snowflakes adorning the fabric. A very familiar row of snowflakes.

“I know, and I’m really sorry, but I don’t know anyone else who’d appreciate these.” Her hair is laid in neat waves framing her pale freckled face, light make-up completing the elegant look. She could be a film star, certainly possesses the same unselfconscious attitude one would expect, even though she’s displaying embarrassment right now. Her slim figure hugged tightly by her form-fitting clothes is visible clearly despite the frankly laughable amount of cookie tins and IQ can’t help herself.

She invites her in.

Twitch is a waterfall, bubbling excitedly about how or why she came across certain recipes, casually throwing in a French or German word amidst the usual English, and it’s impossible for IQ to follow her but she smiles and nods anyway while relieving her visitor of her cargo and placing it gingerly on the kitchen table. So far, this last Sunday before Christmas – the fourth Advent, as it’s called in her mother tongue – had been almost serene, began with chores and continued with a quiet cup of coffee and a good book before slowly tilting over into planning and researching for her next chapter. A regular occurrence. As a result, IQ is mentally somewhere else still and needs a few minutes before she can concentrate on her unexpected guest.

“Good to see you”, she chimes in during a small pause (wouldn’t you know it, even Twitch needs to breathe), and the two of them hug as a greeting. Twitch always gives her a good squeeze, really presses the two of them together, which is one of the reasons IQ looks forward to meeting her every day: it makes her feel appreciated. No one else comes close to these embraces, not Blitz, her decade-old friend, or even her own siblings. In Twitch’s arms, she closes her eyes and finds peace for a brief second.

It might be the absence of her family which has left her this sentimental – normally, she’s too busy to analyse her friends, to scrutinise them to this amount, but today an odd sort of nostalgia and possible bout of loneliness has overtaken her. She did light four candles on her wreath, the first one almost burnt out completely from being lit on all the previous Sundays, yet instead of providing warm illumination, it caused subtle brooding. Their house was always lively around Christmas, bustling with fights, pretend fights, singing, louder singing, future plans yelled through the staircase, raucous laughter, and various songs on repeat trying to drown each other out.

Here, in her small apartment in England, the silence felt foreboding.

“I tried my hand at spéculoos, which Marius called a German staple, and let me tell you – the dough I had was a nightmare to work with, much too sticky. I wanted to roll it out and use Julien’s cookie cutters but it wouldn’t cooperate, so you now have small poop piles of what I think you call Spekulatius. It’s in the blue tin, right on top there. I also made vanilla… uh, vanilla croissants? Shaped like moons? They’re Dom’s favourites, apparently, and Gilles begged me to help him, but he got the recipe wrong and we got so many that he just gave me half. Elias really wanted pain d’épices, um, spicy bread? No, gingerbread, that was it. You guys have the best name for it, by the way, Lebkuchen, it makes it sound like you’re Frankenstein: live, cake!”

Twitch somehow manages to wander through the flat while babbling on, accepting a cup of lukewarm coffee IQ puts in her hands and instinctively helping to pick a few cookies from each box to create an inviting-looking decorative paper plate which IQ carries into the living room where they settle down, fingers curled around warmed ceramic and eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

“You need to try these, it’s actually one of James’ mum’s recipes. Poppyseed and chocolate, they turned out better than expected, but after Liza told that story about her acquaintance failing a drug test because of poppyseed bagels, people refused to eat more than one and I definitely can’t stomach all of these alone.”

She watches, expectantly, as IQ dutifully picks out one of the spotted cookies shaped like a flower and bites into the crumbly bakeware. Surprising no one, it’s delicious – if there’s anything Twitch can’t do, IQ hasn’t found it yet.

“Really good”, she agrees, allowing for Twitch’s instant beaming smile to tug the corners of her own mouth upwards while she chews. “Manu, these all look lovely. You know I’d die for good Christmas cookies, so thank you. Even though this is way too much for me.”

Her laugh is melodic and as contagious as her constant sunny mood. “You should see how many I still have at home. Elias claimed he needs to watch his figure, Julien should be watching his figure, Doc doesn’t really like sweets, and Gilles eats maybe one cookie a day. Which you know is illegal at Christmastime.”

“Still, this is a wonderful present and I’m afraid I have nothing to give in return.” IQ isn’t being entirely honest. Still testing the waters; maybe Twitch will manage to read between the lines and they can finally address it. The moment the Frenchwoman stepped over the threshold was the moment IQ decided they’d talk it through today. It’s been going on long enough.

“Not true, you gave me the gloves!” Twitch’s triumphant gotcha! expression is self-satisfied and smug and sweet. Sweeter than the cookies calling to IQ – they really do look fantastic, a variety of shapes, sizes and colours, all together smelling of spices and memories and Christmas.

“Someone had to, you kept complaining about your icy fingers.”

“And you were probably sick of warming them up.” Twitch hasn’t caught on yet, her tone is still breezy and carefree. “Have you written some more? Any new scenes for me to read? I need to know whether the captain really is dead or not.”

IQ laughs, half embarrassed and half delighted – when the news broke in Rainbow that she writes stories in her spare time, she expected an outcome way worse than what she ended up facing: Castle immediately expressed interest in reading them, no matter the topic, and once word got out that it was usually science-fiction-centric, even more people approached her out of curiosity. None of them as enthusiastic as Twitch, however, who dove into the narratives like an age old fan into new material, sparking an unknown productivity in IQ which has yet to subside. Knowing there’s at least one person who devours anything she dreams up has been fantastically motivating, and they’ve begun spinning yarn together now and then. Twitch is the only one whom she trusts enough to proofread for scientific errors or inconsistencies, and she’s helped develop a character into a much more compelling version of themselves several times.

The next hour is spent on discussing IQ’s research, involving frantic googling and article hopping on Wikipedia to help with finding the correct jargon – Twitch knows most of the technical terms in French, which doesn’t mesh well with IQ’s rusty school French, whereas her German accent makes it difficult for the other woman to understand her, so they try to meet in the middle somewhere by using English, despite the laborious process involved.

They’re on one wavelength. Always have been, from the moment they came across each other in Rainbow’s workshop, when Twitch still dyed her hair auburn and IQ barely spoke a word with the other operators: a friendly smile, an engineering-related question, a brief introduction, and they were a house on fire. Inseparable at work.

Twitch made sure it bled into their private lives as well, even if it took considerable effort. IQ never asked, but she’s sure her friend secretly celebrated that one day when she finally said yes to one of her suggestions of meeting up.

.

And it’s exactly why it hurts so fucking much to think -

.

“Manu.”

Twitch stops talking mid-sentence, probably caught off guard by her serious tone of voice. “Yes? Is everything alright?”

It might be. She hopes it will be. Her fingers stray to a loose thread peeking out of the seam of her trousers, picking at it. “We’ve been friends for a while now.”

Several years, in fact, an unimaginably long time. Not that IQ hasn’t been able to keep friendships alive for this long, but never one this close. The level of intimacy usually kept declining after a certain point, usually prompted by nothing, sometimes spatial distance, sometimes emotional. There aren’t many people who keep up with her over a long time, and even fewer she keeps up with – Blitz is a great friend, but he just doesn’t share her passions.

“And you’re one of the most generous people I know. Your first instinct when you have too many cookies is to give them away. I’ve always admired this about you.”

Twitch is listening intently. She knows something is up, yet can’t put her finger on it. Her brows are furrowed. IQ knows this from a brief glance before her gazed drops back down to her restless fingers.

“Julien and I had a conversation about you, not too long ago. And some of what he said was… unexpected.” Rustling; Twitch is beginning to fidget as well. “Unrelated to that, Dom overheard you voicing your frustration about your being single and mentioned it to me. I didn’t know you were that unhappy. You never said anything.”

She really likes you. Yeah, don’t wave me off. I’ve never seen her fawn over someone like this. You get special treatment all the time.

And then, more poignant: At this point, I’m basically ready to fuck anything that moves.

The second quote echoes in her mind as if she’d heard it herself instead of it being delivered second-hand. Both of them made her look back at the past months and re-evaluate some events. Showed them in a very different light.

Twitch is radiating anxiousness. It’s easy to pick up.

“I realise now that I’ve received a lot of special attention from you, and… I just have to wonder.” It’s harder and harder to push the words out, her throat closing up. “Wonder whether your present today is cookies and friendship, or cookies and a confession, or cookies and an expectation. Whether there’s some kind of motive attached.”

Her entire life, there’s never been anyone outside her family who understood her better. Being a woman in a male dominated field is difficult enough, especially as a competitive one, and her experiences aren’t easily conveyed to her guy colleagues – Twitch understands, of course, has faced the same obstacles and prejudices. Seeking patterns everywhere, striving for excellence, despising complacency, the overwhelming need to reverse engineer anything new or remarkable, exploring new places, wanting to always keep moving and improving – Twitch understands, has had a similar upbringing and equivalent goals.

They share almost everything at this point, have been on holidays together, mastered several projects with each other’s help, stayed up till sunrise because sleep was the inadequate alternative to exchanging ideas and pushing each other further than they’d go by themselves. Others have always tried to slow IQ down, force her to relax, take her mind off something she enjoyed chewing on, and it was infuriating.

All Twitch does is encourage her. Which paradoxically calms IQ more than any massage or empty-brained film ever could.

She doesn’t want to lose all this. Her chest hurts with the pressure of potentially losing someone this dear to her. But at the same time, she doesn’t want Twitch to get the wrong idea.

When silence is all she receives, she looks up to find Twitch fighting for composure – wide eyes filled with moisture and lip quivering. It’s a stab in the guts. IQ has never seen her cry.

“I don’t -”, Twitch chokes out, adding more quietly: “This isn’t -”

IQ sits next to her, reaching out but retreating when Twitch shakes her head, so all she does is take her hand. As always, her fingers are cold, so IQ closes her own around them. This isn’t at all what she intended, but she needs to know.

“Your friendship means the world”, comes a much more composed statement after a minute. “You should know this.”

She nods. She does know.

“And – and yes, if there was more, I’d be happy. Even happier than I am now. But there doesn’t need to be.” Twitch is speaking faster now, rushing the words, her melodic French accent thickening. “I’m fine with everything staying the way it is. I love being around you, no matter how, so if you’re not okay with – with anything else, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll get over it, no worries.”

“Manu. Breathe.” Seeing the other woman in a panic is a rare sight and IQ doesn’t enjoy knowing she’s the cause. “I love being around you, too. You’re my best friend, by far. But… I don’t want anything casual.”

Twitch needs a moment to digest this and IQ readies her responses: she’s had bad experiences with it in the past, and as far as she knows, arrangements like friends with benefits tend to make everything messy and awkward. Staying friends is the better option.

“Yes. Me neither.” A beat. Their eyes meet, Twitch’s still glistening.

There is an even better option, as far as IQ is concerned. And it seems to slowly dawn on the nearly perfect woman next to her.

“And… what about something not casual? But still more?”

Oh. The pressure begins to lift off her chest with every passing second, with every second that Twitch stares at her, hopeful, unsure. Slowly, she clarifies: “You mean – cookies and a confession?”

The nod is nearly imperceptible, and IQ probably almost breaks her fingers by squeezing so hard. The next thing she knows is she’s leaning forward and pressing their lips together, tasting the saltiness of perceived rejection as well as the disbelieving smile of actual acceptance, and then Twitch is laughing as well, crying in between relieved giggling, almost hysterical, and IQ joins in, and before they know it, they’re a mess on the sofa, hugging, seeking physical contact, pressing kisses to temples and hair and cheeks and lips again, wrapping arms around warm bodies.

Her heart is singing because while she so fiercely hoped, she barely dared to, was used to disappointments and therefore expected the worst, even ascribed traits to her best friend in the whole world who’d never stoop so low as to demand something from her she wasn’t ready to give. No, Twitch understands her and vice versa. Even so, it took them an embarrassingly long time to get to this point. In their shared joyousness, they barely manage to finish their sentences:

“What Dom heard me say wasn’t, I mean, I was just -”

“Yes, I figured, but it still got me thinking -”

“I was having a bad day, I’m not that frustrated -”

“Oh? That’s a shame, you know, I was actually looking forward to -”

“Monika!”, Twitch exclaims, scandalised even though they’re both aware IQ is joking, and by now they’re laughing like mad, especially because Twitch only uses her full name when she’s done something, so IQ resorts to tickling her in retaliation or maybe to distract her, and they both yelp when Twitch’s foot shoots up, gets caught on the rim of the cookie plate peeking over the coffee table’s edge, and catapults its contents everywhere. One manages to hit IQ in the face, the rest is scattered all over the floor, which sets them off again after a second of total silence.

“It’s fine, it’s fine”, Twitch gets out in between breaths, “I really do have tons more at home.” Which IQ believes her in a heartbeat.

Even though she’s pretty sure she got the lion’s share of the leftovers.

And just a second before they notice that the napkin on which the cookies were presented has caught fire, IQ thinks about how she dreaded spending Christmas at Hereford without her family – and she realises now she’ll be in great company regardless.

[bet-your-ash]

RedBox

RedBox: A Cherry Tree Extra 1,400 words

“I’m booooored,” Ashley dragged out, throwing another cherry pit at the wall of the tree house. “Me too,” Lilac sighed. She twirled a twig around in her hand, inspecting the leaf on top of it. After another second of silence, she glanced at Ashley and added, “You know, we could always go inside and finish that ess-” 

“Nope!” Ashley interrupted. “Nope, nope, nope, do not even say the word.” 

“You’re gonna have to do it eventually, Ash…” 

“Not if the world ends before May, I don’t.” 

Lilac rolled her eyes. “Don’t count on it.” 

“Okay, you know what?” Ashley said, standing up with a determined look on her face. “We are going to go out.” 

Lilac raised an eyebrow. “Go out where?” Ashley shrugged, patting her pockets for her keys. “Dunno. Somewhere.” She frowned, pulling the pockets of her shorts out to look for her keys. “Where’d I…” 

“Kitchen counter, Ash,” Lilac sighed, standing up and climbing down the ladder. 

“Damn,” Ashley muttered. “We’ll have to talk to people.” 

“It’s just Connor - your mom’s out, right?” Lilac asked, and Ashley scowled. “Just Connor,” she echoed, following Lilac through the living room to the kitchen. “Just Connor, just a centipede, just -” She snickered as she saw Connor sitting at the kitchen table. “Just two thousand eight Joe Jonas…” 

“I do not look like Joe Jonas!” Connor groaned, throwing up his hands. 

“Yeah,” Ashley said, mussing his grown out hair, “you do.” 

“His hair is, like, black!” 

“Yeah, well, it’s the length that counts.” 

“That’s what she said,” Lilac said under her breath, and Connor grinned. “Damn right!” 

“Gee, thanks, Li,” Ashley said incredulously.

“C’mon Ash,” Lilac laughed, putting an arm around Ashley’s shoulders as she led her out of the house and towards her car. “Honestly, sometimes I think you like him more than me,” Ashley mumbled, and Lilac nudged her shoulder. “Only when you’re indecisive about where we’re going.” 

“Hmm,” Ashley hummed, turning her key in the engine. “How about Walmart?” 

Lilac raised an eyebrow. “... why?” 

“Dunno,” Ashley replied with a shrug. “I wanna see a movie and there’s a - there’s, like, one of those old fashioned movie box things over there, right?” Lilac frowned. “Can’t we just watch Netflix? Do you even have money?” 

Ashley grinned, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. “Semantics, darling - let’s just get there, shall we?” Lilac sighed, gazing out the window, and then smiled when Ashley turned up the radio and shouted along with the song playing. 

They made it to Walmart fairly quickly and wandered around inside the store for a few minutes. “Ever seen the Aristocats?” Ashley asked from behind Lilac, and Lilac turned around to see Ashley posing in a mirror with a large, feathery, purple scarf wrapping around her neck. 

“Better not die on me, Ash,” Lilac joked, and Ashley sighed wistfully, putting on a fake British accent. “Never, darling, but not for you - I just couldn’t bear to leave my sweet little kittens all alone!” 

“You should play her in the live action remake,” Lilac laughed. 

“Jesus,” Ashley said, putting the scarf back on the rack, “those damn live actions. Like, why do they have to butcher those classic oldies? Can’t they just leave them be and make new stories?” 

“Disney died, right? Maybe they’re just not as creative as he was.” 

Ashley frowned, feeling the fabrics of the rack of coats they were passing. “Okay, well, he couldn’t have made up all of those stories single handedly.” Lilac shrugged, putting her hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t ask me -  my four am internet spirals consist solely of Napoleon and Casablanca.” 

“Napoleon?” Ashley echoed. “Isn’t that the three flavored ice cream?” 

Lilac grinned. “Yeah, sure.”

“We should watch that movie again,” Ashley mused, stopping by a sun glasses display to fiddle with the various glasses. “What, Casablanca?” Lilac asked, and Ashley nodded, trying on a pair of pink, heart shaped sunglasses. “Yeah,” she said. “Ingrid Bergman can, like, get it.” 

Lilac scoffed. “Are you serious?” 

Ashley smirked, pushing the pink glasses down her nose slightly to look at Lilac. “As a heart attack, kid.” Lilac rolled her eyes. “You just have a thing for Swedes.” Ashley shrugged, exchanging the hearts for neon green aviators. “Perhaps. Tall people are something to be admired.”

Lilac looked down at her feet. What height was considered tall? 

“Hey, think there’s a back entrance available to the public?” Ashley asked, breaking Lilac out of her thoughts. “Or do we have to break into an employee only area…” Lilac cleared her throat. “I dunno. But I do know,” she said, slipping the glasses off of Ashley’s nose, “that you steal these and we’re both going to jail.” 

Ashley raised a brow. “Who’s to say that wasn’t my goal?” 

“Me, Ash, I intend to keep my record clean.” 

“You have horrible taste in friends for such a dimwitted goal, Lila.” 

Lilac rolled her eyes with a smile, steering Ashley away from the door marked Employees Only at the back of the store and back towards the front entrance. “I’ll have you know that my taste in friends is impeccable,” Lilac replied. “You’re the only exception.” 

Ashley giggled, leaning into Lilac’s shoulder. She hummed under her breath, “Darling you… are… the only exception…” Lilac raised an eyebrow. “Is that… Paramore?” she asked, and Ashley shrugged. 

“Dunno,” she said absently, pouting when Lilac pulled her away from the sunglasses rack again. They walked through the doors and around the parking lot and finally found the Red Box they’d been looking for. 

“Oooh, Spies in Disguise!” Ashley squealed, pointing excitedly at the movie on the screen. “That looks awful, Ash,” Lilac said flatly, and Ashley scoffed. “That’s Tom Holland you’re disrespecting, Lila, watch yourself!” 

“Isn’t he the Spiderman guy?” 

“You should see his abs,” Ashley sighed wistfully, putting a hand over her forehead and swooning backwards. Lilac caught her, rolling her eyes, and muttered, “He looks like he’s eating a frog.” Ashley grinned. “It’s all part of his charm, Lila.” 

“Charm or not, we’re not watching Spies in Disguise,” Lilac said conclusively. “How about The Invisible Man?” Ashley grimaced. “Absolutely not. Shall we have our horror movie debate again?” 

“Okay, how about… Dolittle?” 

“Too many cute animals,” Ashley sighed. “I’ll cry. I wanna comedy. How ‘bout -” 

“Dolittle is a comedy!” 

“A real comedy!” Ashley exclaimed. “Like Scooby Doo!” 

“You’re just gay for Daphne,” Lilac muttered. 

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, you are too - besides, can’t be any more disturbing than the cartoon, can it? We can make fun of it and eat popcorn…” Lilac heaved a sigh but keyed in the number and paid, making Ashley squeal excitedly and wrap her arms around Lilac’s shoulders in a hug. 

“Thank you, thank you, Lila!” she chirped, but she stayed put even after a few seconds to watch the movie appear out of the slot with her arms still around Lilac’s shoulders. Lilac got the movie and glanced at her after a second, raising an eyebrow and trying not to make it too obvious how much she was dying at their proximity. 

“Gonna move, or am I gonna piggy back you all the way home?” Lilac asked. 

There was a beat of silence. 

“What if,” Ashley whispered, “we kissed in front of the Walmart Redbox… and we were both girls?” Lilac froze. “Um…” Ashley giggled, pulling away and singing loudly, “I have my dinner in my bathtub, then I go to sex club, la da da da da da…” 

“What the fuck?” Lilac muttered hoarsely. 

Ashley laughed at Lilac’s startled expression. “It’s a Tik Tok, Li, get with the program!” Lilac laughed wrly, shaking her head. “Of course it is,” she mumbled, getting into the passenger seat of Ashley’s car. 

“Hey, would you be willing to dress up as a Jonas brother for Halloween?” Ashley asked as they pulled out of the Walmart parking lot. “My brother’s already got the hair cut - or lack thereof - and you’re giving me Kevin vibes.” 

Lilac frowned. “I don’t know whether I should be insulted or flattered.” 

“Both,” Ashley said. “But maybe it’s just ‘cause I’m a Nick…” 

***

🍒 la fin 🍒

lol if you couldn’t tell, this was based on this Tik Tok... lee showed it to me and it uhhh I was inspired, as you can see hehe

Anyway, there’s the first extra! We hope you enjoyed... We’re a little late today sldkfjds sorry about that BUT we hope you liked it anyway!!! If you wanna be a gem, tell if you’ve ever kissed a girl in front of watched a movie from a RedBox here! Or tell us anything!!! Feedback is much appreciated 😊

See you on Saturday! 

[thetransformerkid]

Transformer 1: Fairysol

Fairysol is very complex. She has a shattered glass version of herself in Lupa. They’re 2 different processor, but they share a spark. She struggles to find a way to control Lupa if she can’t eliminate that side of her, and finds that, when around certain members if her team (for example, Arcee or Ultra Magnus, to name the ones that give her the best results), she’s able to control Lupa better. However, she prefers to remain isolated, in case Lupa DOES break through: she doesn’t realize she needs to be in the presence of others to fight it. She’s acts like a younger sister to Optimus and Megatron, looking up to both of them before the war, yet scorning herself during the war for ever looking up to him.She has a build similar to most Fembots (sleek and sturdy like Elita). Being a triple-changer, she has a particular form: she can transform into a Motorcycle when she needs to go undercover, but she also has a form for flight, and nothing sensible like a jet or helicopter. She turns into a dragon (She’s still an Autobot at spark in this form, but she acts a lot like a preadacon. She’s mostly a light pink with a middle-tone red secondary color (which colors the heart-shaped crest on her head, and it also’s the main color of her weapons), and she has dark purple accents (they color various cybertronian runes that appear on her wings while she’s in her dragon alt form, as well as runes that are on the handles of her weapons. She also has runes that run along her arms and legs), including her optics. However, the most identifiable feature of her is the fact she has something like mechanical fairy wings. They are a translucent/glaze-like rainbow in light colors, and more dark-purple runes that glow can be found on them. She prefers ranged to close-combat weapons. She has many ranged weapons available to her, most of which she invented herself: She has a large but sleek, Elven-style bow (she watches to many Earth movies with Knock Out and Bumblebee), with 3 different types of arrows she uses regularly. She first has her regular arrows, which have the tip coated in a strong acid. Basically, the ‘Con on the receiving end of THAT will /NOT/ survive...they’ll start melting from the inside out. She also has explosive arrows (she might’ve took one of Wheeljack’s bombs to make them), that will explode on impact in a confined explosion. Finally, she has specially-crafted trackers arrows. They have a very special smoke-bomb of sorts that will actually slow time for all of 4 seconds, while a minuscule micro-chip swiftly makes it’s way into the receiver’s brain modual: impossible to detect, impossible to remove without death. The bow is the same middle-tone red as the crest of her head, that gradient to a light pink at the tips (the top and bottom bow where the string attaches), and has dark purple runes on the front and back of it. The string glows a faint pink, which grows stronger the longer she holds it back (this shows how powerful the shot will be and how far it’ll launch). She also had dual blasters that are, once again, a middle-tone red with a stripe that runs through the middle of light pink, decorated with small, dark purple runes. The bullets are coated in acid and are smaller than most bullets, but pack a much large punch and are harder to remove. The bullets leave a glowing trail of pink. She also has dual swords, Elven-like in style. The handles are middle-tone red, with a pink blades (they can also glow pink, similar to the Light Saber), and glowing runes in the dark purple. She’s awkward around most of the males in her team (mostly because said males try to hit on her, even though she’s made it perfectly clear in the past she’s not interested. It’s worst with Rodimus). The males she’s most comfortable around are Optimus, Ultra Magnus, Prowl, Jazz, Grimlock, Bumblebee, Knock Out, Sun Streaker, and Blurr). She prefers the company of her fellow females (including her human companions. Especially Miko; they get along so well). She defiently clings to Arcee mostly (she refuses to let Arcee go anywhere alone, even though she’s perfectly aware Arcee can handle herself just fine). She often has minor arguments with Elita-One, as they both are natural leaders, but it very rarely escalates to anything more than a simple argument. The last time that happened, well...Ratchet wasn’t happy at ALL. With EITHER of them. She also has 2 mini-cons, Sarina and Ziva.