#it figures that even when I make a super tall lady she's still shorter than her boyfriend

[ryuichirou]

Any hcs on the Genderbent versions of anyone? I know you love fem Idia and got some Fem Azul art, but do feed my girl loving heart

Anon, first of all, thank you for your patience. This ask took a while, because at the very beginning I was like “well I kind of want to draw this, even though I’m not sure when I’ll have time to draw ALL of them”, but then I started writing, and here we are…

I’ll just say that I’ve written more about some of the girls than about the others, because, well, I don’t have much thoughts about some of them. Mostly about the Savanaclaw…

Also I’m still not 100% certain about some stuff that I talk about, so if I ever manage to draw something or write more posts about them, don’t be surprised if we change our minds about how this whole thing goes.

Ace – pretty close to the original both physically and mentally, she’s a sporty gal who likes comfy-sporty street fashion and basketball. She is a tomboy, but she also considers herself quite cute. She often makes jokes about how her future husband is going to be some rich old dude and how she’ll never have to work, because she is such a cutie. She doesn’t really likes guys all that much though, so it’s more of a “yeah I can do that, so what?” type of thing, because she knows this topic pisses Deuce and Riddle off.

Deuce – ex-sukeban, but a soft-spoken neat girlie with a proper ponytail and clean nails. Embarrassed of her previous behavior, so she tries her best not only to become a good student like  the original Deuce, but also to act accordingly to how society perceives “good girls” who would become “wife material”  when they’re older. She doesn’t really want to become a housewife though, so she is quite conflicted about it…. She’ll figure it out eventually. Also, she respects and loves her mom a lot; she is pretty much her role model.

Riddle – your average flat-chested tsundere girl. When it comes to her hairstyle, I’m torn between giving her pigtails (a classic for this type), a bun similar to what the Queen herself is wearing, or something completely different. I addition to all the agonizing rules the original Riddle has to oblige to, she has a whole separate set of rules for a proper lady. A little copy of her mother in the making, but a hopeless romantic at heart.

Trey – a full-bodied short-haired oneesan type, very attentive and sweet. In addition to her love for cooking and baking, she is also quite handy (at fixing things) and strong, so sometimes people joke about her being more of a dad friend than a mom friend. Also, she is scary when angered.

Cater – also pretty close to the original: trendy and stylish, maybe she wears more accessories than the original Cater, but not too much. She jokes about having crushes on male celebrities, but she actually likes girls.

Leona – probably more proactive than the original Leona, since she’s a lioness. Logically that would also imply shorter hair, but who knows.

Jack – another oneesan type, but also quite tsundere-ish. Her hair is long and fluffy, just like her tail.

Ruggie – pretty close to the original, but with a cute short ponytail.

Azul – she prides herself on being the next Great Sea Witch: she is sure that she is going to become one, but she never brags about it, just thinks about it to herself very smugly. She also uses her charms to her advantage, being all sweet and acting like a dainty and fragile little lady around potential business partners, which is funny, because it’s painfully obvious that she is actually super bossy, pushy and aggressive. Maybe even more aggressive than the original Azul…

Jade – an unnervingly polite girl that has the same aura as your average Asian flight attendants do…. Like, almost yamato nadeshiko type?? Very soft-spoken and very attentive, humble, poised, but there is still this feeling that underneath all that hides something truly terrifying… She either has her hair down or wears it in a neat bun. She is extremely tall, which makes her intimidating, and is quite busty.

Floyd – just as tall and busty as Jade (they probably have the biggest breasts out of the entire cast), but definitely different in everything else. She is truly a creature and acts, well, just like the original Floyd. She’s either sluggish or super active depending on her mood, and is actually quite a flirt compared to her sister. It’s super easy for her to make other girls flustered (which is something that Riddle specifically doesn’t like her for). She wears anything that feels comfy and cool for her, although when it comes to shoes she prefers to wear sneakers and men’s shoes. She also wears her hair down more often than Jade.

Kalim – oh I’m having a hard time with this one, but she is kind of like a Disney princess (an active genki one). Her hair is probably braided, but it’s still quite fluffy and soft and looks a bit unkempt but in a stylish way: Jamil braids her hair every morning. She just wants to have fun 24/7, so she is a bit unhinged, but also quite empathetic and nice. But a bit dumb.

Jamil – a woman of my dreams lol but in all seriousness, visually she is quite similar to the original Jamil: her hairstyle is pretty much the same, her outfits still have this “hip-hop”-y vibe, a bit sporty, a bit tomboyish, but I guess with a sexy fleur? A very subtle one though. Personality-wise it’s a 100% match.

Vil – the type of model/actress you would see in a post titled “androgynous celebrities” and go “woah who is she”. Elegant, beautiful, super tall, Vil looks good in both dresses and pants. Just like the original Vil, she hates it when the clothes are described as “manly” or “womanly”: Vil wears what she wants to wear. Oh, and high heels are still a must: she is proud of her long legs and she’ll never let you forget about it. (Also when it comes to fem!Pomefiore, I wrote down “Lobelia but with a twist” lol)

Rook – someone you’ll look at for a second and immediately think “a lesbian”. She looks neat and wears makeup, but she is still quite tomboyish and has this vibe of a woman that could pin you against the wall. She is much better behaved now that she is in Pomefiore though. She definitely wore a plaid shirt when she and Vil first met lol

Epel – another tomboy. She doesn’t like girly things just as much as the original Epel, but I guess she is more justified in her hatred towards it than him lol She complains a lot about being forced to do stuff she doesn’t want to and has heated arguments with Vil, even though Vil doesn’t really force her to wear dresses or paint her face: she just wants Epel to brush her hair and stop swearing like a tractor driver. And wear sunscreen… Although Vil and Rook would like to see Epel dressed in both cute dresses and handsome princely outfits (the latter Epel especially doesn’t get).

Idia – tall otaku girl, the type of girl that would be mistaken for a dude online, because she tends to be a resident of online-spaces where all the men otaku hang out. The fact that she still uses “sessha” as her pronoun doesn’t help with that.  She is a liiiiiitle bit of a fujo, but her main focus is the same as the original Idia’s: animes with cute girls in it, gacha-games with waifus, all that stuff. Visually she is pretty much the same as Idia, well, other than the obvious differences. She also doesn’t own a bra, because she is rather small and wears big hoodies and jackets.

Ortho – well this is a tricky one. I think Ortho is also pretty much the same as the original Ortho, but maybe with cute little pigtails lol gotta think about this one more…

Lilia – pretty much the same as the original, the differences are minimal with this one. A cutie through and through 😔💕 and a war criminal

Malleus – whenever I think about her, I picture quite a mature looking lady, visually in her 20s, but I guess Malleus himself looks quite mature for a college student. Her figure is elegant and she is actually quite lean, but with wider hips. Maybe she has a headpiece similar to Maleficent’s, but she doesn’t wear it all the time.

Silver – I’m not sure if I want her to have longer hair or nah, she is also quite similar to the original Silver. She looks more delicate than she actually is because of her pretty face, but her body is actually full of scars and muscles. 

Sebek – she has much longer hair in a neat bun, she is quite full-bodied, strong and muscular. She is quite romantic in her beliefs that she won’t have a family because she is going to dedicate her life to her Queen.

[haledamage]

⭐ ⭐

gonna talk about two of my newer girls because I can :D

Iorwen Emroth (Shepherds of Haven)

Her eyes are a very, very dark blue, like the late-twilight sky. Her iladrin makes them look either sapphire blue or pitch black, depending on time of day, lighting, and her mood.

She has curly silver hair that comes just past mid-back. She wears it down most of the time, but when she’s working she wears it in a braid so she can hide knives in it just in case. She doesn’t really need more knives - she has so many knives on her at any given time, two more stilettos hidden in her hair aren’t going to make that much difference - but better safe than sorry.

Between her silver hair, night sky eyes, freckles, and magic, her mother used to call her a lot of astral-themed pet names. “My north star” was a particular favorite of Iorwen’s. She wishes her mother had been alive when she got her Ket tattoo, but she always thinks of her when she looks at the words--”child of the stars.” A lot of her other tattoos are also constellations and star maps, continuing that theme (but also because she thought it looked Magey and is kind of cocky-as-a-defence-mechanism in regards to her magic. Like, if she uses her status as a Mage as a shield to keep people away, no one can turn around and use it against her as a weapon). She’s also an Astral Order Mage (Healing specialization), so really she’s just star-themed through and through. I really should have given her a more celestial name, I think :P

Ket-blooded, obviously, since she has a Ket tattoo :) when Iorwen was younger she wished she’d been born with arma instead of magic, thought it would have been easier. Norms would have still seen her as Other, but being a Mage made her feel like an outsider even among other Diminished. She grew out of it, of course, and loves her magic now, wouldn’t trade it for the world, no matter how much her kind (and herself) are hated or mistrusted, but… well, when you’re twelve years old, all you want is to be like the other kids.

Has a pretty bad scar from her left cheek, down her neck, ending just below the collarbone. Someone got in a lucky hit with a sword. It probably would have killed her if she wasn’t a healer, or at the very least ended up with a much larger scar and possibly lost her eye. Her opinion on it varies wildly from day to day, anywhere from “this scar is disfiguring and I’m hideous and no one will ever love me” to “this scar makes me look tough as shit, I’m a survivor dammit, look at how badass I am” - though most days it’s in between those two extremes, she doesn’t even remember it’s there or doesn’t really give it any thought beyond a “yep, that’s still my face.”

A sixth bonus fact since the first one was so short, Iorwen is my tallest OC (so far) at 6’1” / 185.5cm. This means that the only ROs taller than her are Blade and Red.

Natalie Shaw (Mind Games: Obsession)

Nat would love to just settle down somewhere as a motorcycle mechanic. Maybe in another life, where she isn’t a superhuman whose very existence is technically illegal. She loves motorcycles, though, and even though her own bike is now scrap metal (rest in peace, Nighthawk), she likes to hang out in biker bars and pick up hot bikers talk shop.

She has a flower vine tattoo on her right forearm, which covers up her old self-harm scars. She’s found (or is finding, it’s a work-in-progress) healthier ways to deal with how overwhelming her telepathy can get sometimes, but the tattoo helps… soften the blow, as it were. Makes the memories behind the scars a little less harsh. Reminds her that she’s still growing.

Nat keeps a bag of essentials packed in the trunk of her car at all times, just in case. It’s got a couple days worth of clothes, some cash, some other necessities. She’s always ready to run if she needs to. She always expects she’ll need to. If not today, then maybe tomorrow; if not tomorrow, then soon. It’s, uh, probably not a healthy mindset, but it’s a safe one for an Alpha. It’s why she’s still alive.

Even though I call her Nat, no one in her life really does, they all call her Natalie. Her dad calls her Nat, sometimes. Sylvia used to, before… well, before. She doesn’t really have any friends close enough that she’s comfortable being on a nickname-basis with. She’d like to get there with the team, but it’s too soon. (probably Iri starts calling her Nat even before she says anything about it, because he’s like that. Blake probably picks it up not long after. I could see Fawn and maybe Adontis asking permission to call her that after Iri and Blake pick it up (which she’d let them), but I feel like Freja and Locke would always call her Natalie no matter what… though I may have Adontis and Freja backwards here, I don’t know them really well yet)

One of my more heart-on-her-sleeve OCs. Most of my girls have masks or walls that they keep up between them and the world at large, but Nat spends so much energy trying to hide what she is that she just doesn’t have the capacity to also hide who she is. Says what’s on her mind more often and with a bit less tact than she probably should. Good news: very witty and mostly a kind-spirited person so even though she’s blunt, she usually doesn’t have anything mean to say. Bad news: if she doesn’t like you, you’ll know it, and in such a way that you’ll probably want to punch her. She’s definitely had her nose broken at least once and she definitely deserved it. Neither good nor bad news: a very bold flirt, because she doesn’t see much point in not being upfront about it? Though I think this is gonna change once her attraction stops being purely sexual and becomes more romantic because that’s new and she doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

[honeyandbloodpoetry]

Gender Thoughts Pt 1 and 2

The first time I put a binder on, a little under a week ago, I felt euphoric. Ever since I hit puberty very early on, I felt uncomfortable with my breasts. They never felt right on me, and even though I’ve come to love them sometimes, they still don’t always feel like they match up. I hated how people always looked at them, pointed out how much they showed in low cut shirts when I never even noticed they were--or even wanted them to. They were just there. I liked the way low cut shirts feel and look on me, I just can’t help these giant sacks of flesh that sit on my chest. 

Except...now I can! I ran my hands over my smooth chest, feeling bright. I looked into the mirror, and felt something warm wash over me. I put on my new masculine clothes, letting my partner clip on my new suspenders. I realized that I was shaking as I looked at myself again… I looked like a boy. I felt like a boy. Like a man. And I liked it. I wanted it. Admitting that to myself was like coming home. 

I remember being in sixth grade, walking around the track for my civil air patrol class. I had been slotted in with the rest of the girls, the boys walking ahead of us. I remember feeling uncomfortable being shoved in with only girls, and looking at the gaggle of boys ahead. The exact thought that whispered in my brain was “I wish I was a boy. I want to be like them, with them.” I never forgot that moment, and how strange it made me feel. How it was easier to shake that thought away, and dismiss those feelings. Except they never really left, did they? 

I remember sitting on my bed, crying with my best friend kneeling in front of me. I remember telling her how I didn’t like feeling like a woman all the time. That I wished I could be a black shadow, monstrous, androdynous. Specifically like Venom. She took my hand, did my makeup all in black and helped me pick out the perfect black outfit to achieve that dark, gothic look. I was so incredibly happy and validated. But I still felt like something was missing. 

I remember going into an Adam and Eve for laugh, not expecting much since I am an asexual with a low libido. I remember seeing packers and feeling my chest tighten. I never liked my genitalia--I had wished for a cloaca or something akin to that, but since that was biologically impossible for a human… I sometimes wished I had the opposite of a vagina. I frequently imagined what it would be like to have a penis. I frequently lamented the fact that I didn’t have one. I took the box up to the counter to ask some questions, my dress swishing as I went. The cashier told me it was for trans people only, and a girl like me couldn’t have it. She didn’t know what asexuality was, and had tried polyamory once but decided it was bad when her girlfriend kissed her boyfriend. I was upset, disheartened, and left the store empty handed feeling frustrated and lost.

I remember finally cutting the long, curly locks that had frustrated and imprisoned me for so long. Seeing all of my hair fall to the floor, staring into the mirror as the barber buzzed the back of my head… It made me want to cry tears of joy. It was the first time in my entire life that I had looked at my hair and was happy. The first time I could look in the mirror and feel like myself. Then I remember wanting to go shorter, and my barber encouraging me to keep it a little longer so I didn’t look manly, so I could still be soft and feminine. The way my stomach dropped and the sick feeling in my chest only increased when he began to make fun of the gay men who came down the street near his favorite restaurant. I never saw that barber again. I instead found a nice local place down the road from my apartment, where the kind lady cut it all off without question, other than “Why?” and accepted my warm “It makes me happy. It makes me feel beautiful.” 

But wearing that binder for the first time? It was as if a beam of light had funneled its way directly into my heart. I felt like a handsome man, with just a little bit of striking man boob, and it felt so right. My partner called me a dashing boy and my heart began to race. I still feel his hand tracing my jawline as he called me handsome, and the butterflies it sent up through my belly, even after more than eleven years. 

I love my partner--he identifies as agender and primarily masculine, and has been on the lookout for a good pair of size thirteen shoes to wear with a dress. They also wear joggers and flip flops and graphic tees and can’t seem to stop talking about the ocean and outer space. They’re probably one of my biggest inspirations for finding myself, and being authentically me. 

I’m not super sure who or what I am right now. I’m still figuring that out, but I’m pretty sure I’m somewhere between agender and genderfluid. I feel like me more than anything else, but all pronouns make me feel good. I feel like all of them and none of them at once, but I swing between wanting to be feminine and masculine pretty strongly, though I enjoy being masculine most of all--even when I’m wearing dresses and pink. I feel like a beautiful person in a dress or a button down, no matter what gender I feel like today or tomorrow. 

I am me. And I am one dashing boy, and one beautiful girl. 

4 July 2021

XXX

Since first writing this little essay, I’ve been doing a lot more examination of my gender. I have come to the conclusion that I am transmasc and nonbinary, and am shaky on the title of genderfluid. I am feeling less and less like a woman--if anything, occasionally adjacent to a woman rather than actually being one. I love feeling like and presenting as a man. I have my first appointment with a gender services doctor at my local community clinic for consultation on starting hrt testosterone. I am planning to start with low dose first, and see how I feel. 

I am still unsure of my exact identity, but I have found great euphoria with being and presenting as a man. I love being a man and everything that entails. I have loved myself like never before. Being with my partner is amazing, and he has been endlessly supportive--even recounting little things they had noticed throughout the years. One of the funniest being that I only ever referred to my body parts--my belly, hands, hair, genitalia--with masculine pronouns. I always seemed to see my body as male even if I had a certain sort of dissonance from it. 

Coming out has been difficult. I have had both positive and negative experiences from it. I have been told going on testosterone would be self harm, and that I can’t be something I’m not. I’ve had coworkers I trusted out me without my permission. But I have also had positive affirmation, polite questions, and discussions. I am terrified to tell my mother and her boyfriend--I have no idea how they will react and am terrified that I will be disrespected and disowned. 

But I am prepared to do whatever it takes to be my happiest and most authentic self. 

I have been binding a lot more often, wearing sports bras for long shifts at work, and occasionally going without either when I feel like letting my man boobs hang free. I’ve had the delightful experience of going to a men’s big and tall store and finally wearing pants. I grew up as a fat girl and felt as if I had to perform high femininity to be taken seriously and be treated well--and had been told by someone I trusted that I was too fat to wear pants, which I heavily internalized. So I had completely cast them away in favor of dresses and skirts, bows and gaudy jewelry. Realizing that I could wear pants was...totally wild. That I could be comfortable and look good in pants and shorts, and that it didn’t matter what people did or thought of me was life changing. Maybe I’ll feel like being feminine again someday, but right now this masculinity and masculine clothing, with perhaps the added spice of funky earrings, feels like home. 

I also grew up autistic and with PCOS, both which I think have affected my gender identity. Being autistic, I truly struggled to connect to others socially, and especially to understand societal norms. Being a proper woman felt like I was making up for everything else I was lacking--I may have been awkward, semi-verbal and weird with no friends, but at least I was cute and girlish. I never connected to womanhood though, and always felt out of place no matter how hard I tried. With PCOS, I had heightened testosterone, which meant wider breasts and shoulders, a lack of periods, and excessive body hair. I recall the endocrinologist asking high school age me if I had excessive body hair around my stomach, breasts, etc. and my mother jumping to say no I didn’t...even though I did. I remember suddenly feeling very self aware and ashamed of something completely natural, and even something I started to enjoy. I started shaving my entire body then. 

I even remember being in middle school, and thinking nothing of my hairy legs. In fact, I loved my body hair and how it felt. A rude girl began making fun of me though, tutting her tongue as she cooed, “Aw, does your mommy not let you shave?” Among other things, all throughout many years of severe bullying and abuse. I remember feeling ashamed, but not knowing why, and immediately shaving my legs, covering them in nicks from my shaky and unsteady hands, that same night. 

So many things set me back in my gender expression. So many things contributed to me willful ignorance and denial. I remember wanting to be butch, and everyone in my life laughing at me and saying I was too soft for that. That sweet, sharp ache in my chest. I remember going to a salad bar with my mother, wearing a button up and telling her I wanted to wear some more boyish clothes around that same time--I had already told her that I was bi sometime earlier. I remember her lip curling, looking uncomfortable, and telling me that I better not become one of those boy girls. My late father was very vocal in denouncing homosexuality and specifically men loving men--something which always sat horribly wrong with me on a deeper level. 

I think I might ending up being a trans man. I am still unsure and figuring myself out, but I struggle greatly with the autistic need for sameness vs. the trans need for change. My sapphic love of women has always been very important to me, and fully becoming a man rather than genderfluid is scary for that very reason. I am still navigating my identity and what it means to me and my reality--but no matter what, being a man, being masculine is integral to who I am. 

I was called a “sir” at a job interview for the first time the other day, and nearly began to bawl from sheer joy. The gender euphoria from that and so many moments is worth so much more to me than the years of suffering and ignorance and my ongoing struggles with dysphoria. I finally got a packer and have had help from my partner in learning to position it properly--I am thinking of cutting my hair even shorter. I have almost perfected a pretty basic tie tying skill. Okay, not really, but I’m getting there. I feel deep inside that even though my father loved me, he would not like who and what I am. Still, I wear the last watch he ever wore, and hope to be a good man like him--and to learn from the toxic parts of him to be an even better man. 

I am very excited to start hrt. I am terrified of hair loss and vaginal atrophy, but I look forward to so much more. I cannot wait for bottom growth and body hair, for the voice drop that will hopefully get me misgendered less. I have always felt disconnected from my voice and look forward to getting to know it better as it changes with me. I look forward to meeting with new facial hair. Working out and growing muscle. I just look forward to my second puberty and becoming more like myself. I look forward to navigating and exploring my gender even further, both with loved ones, support groups, and myself. 

More than anything, I am just happy to be me. 

25 August 2021

[amerrierworld]

in dreams (pt 2)

The Hobbit fanfiction

Part 1

Summary: You meet the Lady of Lothlorien for what you think is the first time, but she’s already very acquainted with who you are.

Characters: Galadriel x fem!reader, Gandalf

Word Count: 2,003

“Come along then, quickly,” Gandalf ushered you along, staff tapping the ground as he led you through hallways and stairways. You hurried after him, distractingly gazing at Rivendell bathed in starlight and moonlight around you.

“Where are you taking me, Gandalf?” you asked, squeezing the last bits of water from your damp sleeves. Your clothes were slowly drying now that the sun was gone, but the air was still comfortably warm.

“To someone who wishes to speak with you,” the Wizard spoke ominously, and you rolled your eyes. 

"Ah, very helpful.”

Gandalf shot you a glance over his shoulder. He led you to a winding staircase that opened up to a platform close to the mountain side, hidden behind forestry and waterfalls. There was a curious basin at eye level in the middle of the space, and you stepped closer, watching the dark water that barely seemed to move with the breeze. 

You wandered to the far edge of the platform, peeking through the occasional gaps of the water and seeing the bright moon staring back at you.

“Gandalf, there’s no one here- is it some sort of prank?” you turned around, “I don’t see why-”

You halted mid sentence. Gandalf had left, inconspicuously it seemed, and the figure standing across from you was none other than Lady Galadriel. Her blue eyes reflected starlight and brightness to the point where your own might burn at the sight of them. Her pale hands were clasped in front of her, a white dress shimmering with every movement she made. Your mouth went dry and you cast your eyes downwards.

“H-hello,” you stammered. 

“Greetings,” she said, softly. Softer than you could have imagined, a clear whisper still heard above the rushing of water. As you stared at your feet, she took you in. You shifted your feet around nervously, your clothing and hair still not fully dried from your skirmish in the fountain from earlier, and Galadriel felt a smile tug at her lips. 

You couldn’t see it, but her heart was thundering in her chest. There you were, bashful and uncertain about your meeting. She realized with a slight sadness that you probably had not had any of the visions she had over the last few years, otherwise you would have been reacting differently.

“Do you know who I am?” Galadriel asked, remaining in her place. Your eyes crept up to meet her gaze, again startled at how clear and bright her eyes were.

“Yes, my lady,” you murmured. “You are the Lady of Lothlorien, Galadriel.”

“The elf-witch,” Galadriel replied. You flushed, blinking rapidly.

“I didn’t- that wasn’t me who- the Dwarves, they were..”

You stammered defensively, until you saw the teasing gleam in Galadriel’s expression and you huffed. 

“I- I don’t think you’re a witch, my lady,” you added.

“No? Then what am I to you?” Galadriel questioned. “You seem to know who I am, clearly.”

“Well, yeah, of course,” you said, glancing down again. “Where I come from- I, I guess I know a fair bit about you.”

“Is that so? Enlighten me then.”

You blinked. “W-what?”

“Tell me what you know of me,” she ordered. You gaped at her, clearing your throat in surprise.

“Uh, o-okay. Well, I know your name is Galadriel here, but you have like, a lot more names than that. Just like Gandalf. You, uh, you’re really old and- wait, no, you’re not old, I just meant- damnit.”

You turned around to shake the nerves and watched the water and the moon instead. “You witnessed the Two Trees, right? The creation of the world, or something like that. Gosh, I can’t remember all the details, but that makes you, like thousands of years old,” you chuckled, “I’d be surprised if I even make it to one century, y’know?”

“You’ve got a husband, Celeborn- did I say that right? One of the Sindar, I think. And you, you’re one of the.. the- uh, Noldor? Pretty cool stuff, if you ask me. Lady of the Golden Wood and stuff. Oh! You have a child, right? Celebrian, Gandalf told me that was Elrond’s wife.”

You were rambling at this point, avoiding Galadriel’s eyes as you kept talking, trying to remember all your Tolkien knowledge. At the mention of her daughter, Galadriel felt her hands’ grip tighten and she took a deep breath.

“Galadriel..” you said, thinking. The Elf Queen felt a shiver as you said her name. “Or.. Artanis, right? Or, or, Nerwen. There- there was one more, Ata- Alata- uh-”

“Alatariel,” Galadriel whispered, remembering her old names, the old memories that came with it. She was frozen, watching you speak her distant selves into existence again, your ridiculous accent on Elvish names pushed aside for now.

You turned to face her again, blushing but nodding. “I must sound like a fucking creep. I just know a lot of things, I suppose. Not just about you! Gosh, I’m not a stalker, I promise. I just know about.. Middle Earth.”

“I see.”

Silence filled the space for a moment. Galadriel’s head was spinning with thoughts, unsure how to tell you how she knew about you.

“My lady,” you breathed quietly. “Why did you ask me here? Gandalf said he wanted to bring me to someone who needed to speak to me.”

“I know you, Y/N,” Galadriel said in response, startling you at the sound of your name on her lips. “More than you realize. More than I understand.”

You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Galadriel felt flushed, and she approached the basin in the centre. 

“You know of the mirror?” she asked. You nodded. She beckoned you closer. 

“Look.”

You obediently dipped your head to look at your reflection. Slowly, ripples formed and the image shifted. Galadriel appeared in a hazy mist, turned away from you, but wandering as if in a dream. 

She was reaching out to something, following a figure that was just out of reach. Slowly, your face appeared, and you were looking at yourself through Galadriel’s eyes. You were running through Lothlorien’s trees, snapshots of your life back home appearing. Your memories were being replayed back at you, but you could sense that Galadriel was witnessing them with utter confusion, was only enraptured by your eyes and your echoing laugh.

The last image you could see Galadriel reaching to touch your own face, and a tingling formed along your cheek as you watched, before a flash overtook your vision. With a gasp, you fell back, catching yourself before your head hit the floor. 

Galadriel looked slightly apologetic as you lay, gasping, your cheek feeling a bit numb. You scrambled to your feet, trembling. 

“What does that mean?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Galadriel took a deep breath, watching you from the other side of the basin. 

“Elven companionships, when special, are akin to a special bond. Most common in marriages, I have only ever shared a bond with my husband. It is an expected feeling, a foretelling before you even meet that person. But when you do, you know it, and you feel it.”

She turned and was slowly pacing in front of you. You watched her significant profile as she spoke, and felt an ache pull inside your chest. 

“I believe these dreams tell me that you and I, though you are not of elf kind, share a bond like that.”

Her blue eyes flickered to you. You held her gaze this time. “You have been in my dreams for nearly some decades now, Y/N. You may not have even been alive when they started, but as you are now is how you always appeared to me.”

You stared, blinking. “What.. what does that even mean? Are we married?”

Galadriel chuckled, like the ringing of a bell. “No, dearest. Not quite. It is a connection between beings, an understanding beyond words.”

“I don’t understand,” you breathed. “You-you’re this amazing powerful elf who’s super old and wise, and I’m just a human!”

“A human from another world. There are none like you.”

“But it doesn’t make sense! I didn’t come here expecting this! I joined the quest to- to..” You bit your tongue.

“No one expects their futures, Y/N. It simply happens.”

“Easy for you to say! You knew this was going to happen.”

Galadriel shook her head. “I never knew who or what you were, or where you would come from. But something drew me to Rivendell, other than Lord Elrond’s call to the White Council here. I thought it be related to your Dwarvish friends and their dragon, but it was more than that.”

You felt pale, and a little weak in the knees. The look you and Galadriel shared felt like a piercing stab inside of you, opening up your soul and mind to her. You expected her to read your thoughts, but you felt nothing probing or digging around your brain. Perhaps she couldn’t, with you.

“Magic,” you whispered at the feeling. Galadriel smiled, her eyes crinkling, and you nearly melted on the spot.

“This world has lots of it.”

She stepped closer to you. She was tall, God she was tall, but you didn't mind. You couldn’t resist drawing a hand up to hers, and the minute your fingertips brushed her, a sharp electric shock coursed through your veins. The both of you gasped and a tingling feeling remained in your hands.

“I cannot recall anyone who has ever experienced a bond like this,” Galadriel whispered. This time you noticed her chest rising and falling quicker than you thought, and her pupils were starting to grow as she watched you. “I don’t think any of us will ever understand it.”

“That’s fine by me,” you responded, your fingers twitching. A beat. “Can I kiss you?”

Galadriel blinked, and a blush filled her cheeks. But, regaining her composure, she cheekily responded, “I don’t see how you’ll be capable of that from where you stand.”

Realizing she made fun of your height, you snorted at her. You turned so you stood up on the steps of the pedestal that the basin was on. Still a bit shorter than Galadriel, you got up on the tips of your toes and pulled her closer. 

The contact felt like an electric current again, numbing your toes and fingers, making your heart stutter and your body feel alive. Galadriel’s hands grasped your upper arms and you cupped her face, gently bringing your mouths together.

A breathy whimper escaped her, much to your delight. Long fingers dragged up from your arms to your neck and held you there, coolness soothing your heated skin. 

She arched her body into you and you raked your fingers through her long golden hair. When you pressed your hands to the base of her skill and tugged gently at her tresses, she gasped, loudly, and pulled away. You stumbled back a bit and nearly tipped the basin behind you over, the water sloshing over the rim. 

Shaking, you lifted your fingers to your mouth, feeling the tingles and numbness left behind there. 

“That’s what magic feels like?” you asked. Galadriel nodded slowly. Her eyes cast up towards the moon and a realization hit her.

“I must leave you, Lord Elrond is expecting me,” she said. Her voice was ragged and low. 

“Will I see you again?” you asked. “How long are you in Rivendell?”

“As long as you wish,” she whispered, coming up to you again. This time she led the kiss, holding you firmly. You tasted the sweetness of her mouth and groaned a little. 

When she pulled away she seemed satisfied by your response and lifted your hands, kissing your knuckles with a brush of her lips. Then, she briskly turned and left you there, astounded and more than a little aroused.

A/N: Yay elf love! I have no idea how true this holds to Tolkien lore, but who cares. If there is an interest for Part 3, whether it be smut or no, let me knowwww! I loved writing this, flustered Galadriel is my fave.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Hey again! I was the one that requested the domestic one and omg it was amazing! Could I be cheeky and ask of you could write another one? I know, I'm sorry but I'm dying at everything you write! Maybe one where the emerson's are part of vamp family but Michael's older sister moves back in and flirts with the boys but she has a really bad case of baby face and they are unsure of her advances because she looks a bit too young for them? They find out she's older than Michael and just go ahead

I am always taking asks!! Feel free to ask for as much as you want!! God, I love the au that the Emersons joined the vamp fam so this may be a long imagine

Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader That’s the Emersons Baby-Faced Older Sister

You were the oldest of the Emersons. You’d left sunny Arizona for a full-ride scholarship in Ohio, and it had been the worst mistake of your life. The second you got your bachelors degree, you were ready to get the hell out of there. You were nearly twenty-two, and you already felt like you’d missed a thousand opportunities. You swore that if you had to see a cornfield one more time, you were going to blow your brains out. 

While you couldn’t return to your home in Phoenix, your mother, Lucy, was more than willing to welcome you back into the nest. They’d moved to Santa Carla, California, and you were doing your best to unpack your bags from your mothers car as you said, “We couldn’t have moved here before I went to college?” You asked, and your mother gave you a look as she handed you one of the boxes. They’d only moved there because your mother had divorced your father, and Sam gave you a look as well. “Way to go, y/n.” He said. Okay, maybe not the best thing you could’ve said.

You spent the day unpacking and arranging your room exactly how you wanted it. You had to admit. It was pretty awesome. Much bigger than your dorm, and you actually had space to stretch out. However, you still had a few boxes left unpacked when your mother knocked on your door.

Your mother told you that you were having a welcome home dinner, which would include her boyfriend and his kids. You hadn’t asked many questions, mainly because you didn’t really want to end up spending your night with either. You wanted to hit the town and roam the boardwalk. Not meet Mr. Rogers and his children. You showered changes into a fresh t-shirt and shorts, and you bounded down the stairs when you heard the sound of a motorbike. Well, motorbikes. You thought your brother, just your brother, had just arrived home, and you hadn’t been able to see him during the day. You met him in the living room, and missed the sight of the little boy and girl walking into the kitchen to greet your mother. When he walked in, you gave him a big hug before punching his arm. It was super lame of him for ditching you for the entire day.

“Nice piercing.” You teased, commenting on his new earring. He scoffed and pushed your head. He joked and asked you how ‘boarding school’ was. It was what he called your college, because when you’d showed him the brochure he’d commented on how it looked like one of those old boarding schools in the upper east-coast. You missed your brothers, and you were happy to talk to them again. You almost hadn’t noticed the boys behind him. 

Well, as soon as you did, you had to keep your mouth from dropping. It almost looked as if Michael had become friends with a metal band, and you had to keep yourself from staring too long. They were gorgeous, each in their own way. You had to flirt with them, even if they were Michaels friends. How could you not?

“Who are the local hotties?” You asked and the wild-haired blonde with a laid-back smile and a slight Californian accent replied, “I’m Paul. Who’s the babe?” In almost just as flirty of a tone as you had given them. You smiled, and one of his friends, the curly haired blonde, quickly elbowed him. He had an awesome jacket, but a face practically made for a museum. And that hair? The tied back blonde curls were perfectly styled, and practically begging to have fingers run through them. The brunette sent him a look, and then the blonde besides him replied, “Marko.” The mulleted blonde looked you up and down, as if trying to figure out something. You caught him, and gave him a wink. He was hot, in a punk way. He looked dangerous and almost a little mean, but his eyes were mesmerizing. He narrowed his eyes, and you genuinely couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I’m David.” He said. From just those two words you could tell he was intense, and his voice was as smooth as silk. The brunette was last, and you didn’t even try to keep your gaze off his exposed abdomen. Nice. “Dwayne.” He said, and you sent him a wide grin. His voice was deep, and he was tall. He loomed like a statue, and his face was perfectly neutral. He was pretty intimidating, those dark eyes practically boring holes into your skin. You really wished you could ditch this lame dinner and spend it with the them instead.

The boys didn’t know what to make of you. You had flirted with them, and they usually would’ve been eager to swoop in. You were cute, and definitely their type. But you were Michaels sister. He hadn’t told them much about you, and the four guessed that was on purpose. More so, they had no idea how old you were. You still had a baby-face, and you were shorter than Sam. They guessed you had to be older than him, but Sam was only fourteen. Wait, fifteen maybe? They couldn’t remember. As far as they knew, you could’ve just been a very flirty sixteen year old and they were not going to make that mistake. 

It didn’t help that you continued by supplying your name and saying, “Y’know, guys like yourselves could definitely show a lady around sometime.” It was a not-so-subtle hint, and Paul was dying to respond. He was their biggest flirt, and you definitely had your own silver tongue. He was positive that you had to be at least eighteen. “Oh, yeah?” He asked, and this time it was Dwayne that elbowed him before he could continue. Paul gave him a glare, and Dwayne returned it tenfold. “Yeah, I’d offer tonight, but I have this family thing.” You said, waving your hand and rolling your eyes. Then, David smirked. Oh, you had no idea who they were. This was perfect. And like always, Max had perfect timing.

He’d strode in with a full suit, making you feel a little under-dressed for your own dinner. He had a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and he gave you a wide, dorky smile as he passed the boys and held out his hand. You shook it, and then took the flowers. “You must be y/n. Your mother has told me so much about you.” He said, and you gave him a smile. You wished you could say the same. “I’m Max,” He started. You expected to see some little tykes trailing behind him, but you didn’t see a single one. Instead, he gestured to the four boys besides him. “And I see you’ve already met my boys.” You felt your mouth drop. These were his kids? You stared at them, and you could feel your face go instantly red. Curse your giant mouth. Michael took way too much pleasure in seeing how surprised you were, and you sent him a deadly glare. He couldn’t have warned you? You excused yourself, hiding your escape by saying you wanted to help your mother with dinner. Max offered to come with you, and you thought it would be too rude, and suspicious, to deny him.

You fled into the kitchen, and you were confused when you saw two new faces. Okay, how many kids did this guy have? You were quickly introduced to Star and Laddie, and you sided up to the other girl. She was soft-spoken and kind, and you asked her some questions. Mainly just to get to know the others without having to ask them yourself. You learned that all of them were adopted, and that she was even dating Michael. Okay, that made you feel a little bit better about flirting with the boys. It also made them completely fair game.

All twelve of you couldn’t fit at the dining room table, so you split up. Sam and Laddie were banished to the kids table, and Star stuck to Laddie like glue. This made Michael aim to sit with her as well, and your grandpa decided he was too much of a kid to sit at the ‘adult table’. You were left with Max, your mother, and the four boys. The parental figures took the heads of the table, and you slid into the seat squeezed in-between two other chairs. It’d guarantee that a boy would have to sit on either side of you. Paul tried to sit next to you, but he was quickly pushed away from the seat by the platinum blonde. It was obvious the boys were trying to cock-block him as much as possible, and you thought it was because you were fresh meat and they each wanted you to themselves. Really, it was because Paul couldn’t be trusted. You grinned as David took the seat instead, but he didn’t smile back. You sat between David and Marko, while Dwayne and Paul sat on the other side.

You all begun eating, and Max began asking you all types of questions. You answered them, but you weren’t really paying attention to the conversation. Instead, you were playing footsies with Paul. Well, trying. You were dragging your foot up his leg, and he’d nearly choked when you started. He excused himself, saying something about the bathroom as he left the table. Paul went in there just to give himself a pep talk and remind himself that you were Michaels sister, making you his as well. Just as quickly as he reminded himself that, he said, “Well, Stars technically his sister and he fucks her all the time.” He stayed in the bathroom as he mulled over the morally vagueness of the situation.

You grinned, and next you tried Marko. You gave him a sweet smile as you reached out to touch his jacket. You complimented it, and then your hands trailed up to his hair. It’d been a ghost of a touch, but you asked him what he used to style it. He tried to seem unbothered as you touched his curls, but then you gently rubbed your leg against his. The boy had dropped his fork, and everyone looked at him. You stifled your laugh, and he became flustered as he picked it off the floor and excused himself to go get a new one. You rolled your eyes. Marko was doing his best to ignore you before, but you weren’t making it easy. He went into the kitchen and the ‘kids table’ gave him confused looks when they saw how flustered he was. The two blondes were gone, and you were running out of options.

So, you reached over and gave Davids thigh a light squeeze. He stilled, almost impossibly so. You trailed your hand up further and gave him another, and then he glared at you. He knocked your hand off his leg, but he didn’t get up like the others. David had far more self control than either of the two other blondes. He didn’t need to excuse himself to collect himself. Hell, he was almost impressed by your bravery. David didn’t care that you were Michaels sister. Michael had stolen Star from him, so he actually thought it would be quite fitting if he did the same to him with you. He just needed to know that you were legal first.

You set your eyes on the brunette, and he’d arched a brow at you when your eyes met his. You commented on his piercing and complimented it, and then lifted the edge of your shirt as you told them that you were thinking about getting a belly button piercing yourself. You’d done it just to expose some skin, and Dwayne’s eyes quickly flicked down to your stomach. He nodded, but he didn’t say a word as he quickly looked anywhere except at you. You were hell of a tease, and Dwayne refused to give in

You let your shirt drop when your mother asked you why, and when, you planned on getting one. Your mother wasn’t the judgemental type, and you cooly said, “Oh, just as a birthday present to myself. I’m older than Michael and even he has more piercings than I do.” 

Marko and Paul had just returned to the table when those words fell from your lips, and all of the boys paused for a moment. You were older than Michael. Definitely legal age. And you were definitely into them. All of them, it seemed. They’d been holding back before, but now every bit of restraint they had quickly left the building.

Marko touched your hair gently just as you’d done to him, and hid the action by mentioning your unpierced ears. He trailed his fingers along your neck and leaned in close as you talked. As soon as that was brought up, Dwayne offered to pierce them for you. He offered to pierce your belly-button as well. That was one way to get you out of your shirt, and the slight smirk he gave you told you that was exactly what he had in mind. Pauls leg rubbed against yours, and you didn’t hesitate to reciprocate the action. He gave you a wolfish grin, and even managed to keep up the conversation as he did. It was all topped off when Davids hand gripped your thigh. He wasn’t shy, and he even managed to worm his hand between your legs. He gripped your inner thigh and lightly traced his fingers over the exposed skin, and it took every ounce of willpower to not be a blushing, embarrassed mess from the onslaught of attention from all four of them

Both of your parents, a term loosely given to Max, were oblivious, and they even seemed happy that you were getting along with them so well. Once dinner was finished, you invited them upstairs to show them your room. It was completely under the guise of showing them your wicked music and comic collection, and perhaps having them help you finish packing since someone *cough* Michael *cough* had conveniently been gone the entire day so some of the heavier boxes and your TV (it only played vhs’ but it was better than nothing) hadn’t been brought up. Your parents didn’t see any harm. If it had just been one of them, they would’ve been suspicious. But all four? What could go wrong? Three of them grabbed a box and Dwayne carried your tv, and you told them where they could place everything. Michael was the only one who seemed concerned when Paul kicked the door to your room closed, but he was too distracted by Star to go investigate

At first, you really did unpack. Well, the boys looked through your stuff, and took them out of the boxes. Marko had snagged your box of comics, and he commented on the hefty collection. You told him that Sam had gotten his love of comics from you. Paul had gotten your box of vinyl and cassettes, and he was pouring through them and geeking over some of your heavy metal albums. Dwayne was doing his best to help set up your tv, and David had grabbed your box of vhs tapes. Once you and brunette has succeeded in getting it working, David popped a tape in. To add more noise, Paul put on one of your casettes into the boom box in your room. You had set up the tv on your desk, which was at the very end of your bed.

The two blondes didn’t move from their spots on the floor, and Dwayne sat on the floor with them. He leaned back against your bed, and David took off his boots and shed his coats before he was climbing onto it to sit at the headboard. He arched a brow at you, and you didn’t have to guess where this was going to go. You grinned as you climbed onto it with him, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

Sam had, unfortunately, come to collect a comic you had promised to give him once you got back about twenty minutes later, and had opened your door to find you underneath and in a passionate lip-lock with the platinum blonde while the others seemed to be patiently waiting for their turns. 

[quicksilversquared]

Of Growing and Miraculous Pranks

Ladybug has always been shorter than Chat Noir, and even though Marinette has grown- well, the height gap between them just keeps getting bigger. She hadn't given it any thought- well, much thought, at least- until things started not quite lining up properly.

Or: Marinette grows. Ladybug doesn't.

links in the reblog

Marinette had been Ladybug for four years, three months, and fifteen days when she started realizing that- well, that something a bit strange was going on.

Everything started when she caught wind of the- apparently quite common- perception that Ladybug wasn't a teenager as a lot of people had originally thought, but actually an adult. For some reason, though, people still saw Chat Noir as a teenager instead of assuming the same thing about him.

"I don't know why people would think that, Tikki," Marinette told her kwami that afternoon, after she had made her excuses with Alya and headed home from their group outing a little early to get a bit of homework done. "I mean, when we started out- well, it was pretty obvious that we weren't experienced, and that we were learning a lot, and then there was that stupid textbook, too, plus I was really short then. So maybe I wasn't happy that people had figured out that I'm a teenager, but it at least that assumption made sense!"

Tikki giggled. "Maybe it's the Miraculous magic that's interfering?" she suggested, the impish look on her face suggesting that she knew exactly what was going on but she wasn't going to tell. "At any rate, that's a good thing, right? People aren't thinking about someone your age when they try to figure out Ladybug's identity!"

"Ugh, I don't know," Marinette muttered, making a mental note to maybe look into the subject more later on. She honestly didn't keep up with the news about her and her partner much anymore- she had better things to do with her time, both in her normal life (unfortunately, superheroes still had homework and babysitting and commission deadlines) and the superhero one. That was why the whole we think Ladybug is actually an adult! had taken her by such surprise. "I mean, I guess, but does it really matter that much what the public thinks if Hawkmoth knows that the timers are a sign of a Miraculous holder not being an adult yet? It might throw Alya off of my trail a bit more, but- well, I've already done that, when I used the Fox to create a Mirage of Ladybug rescuing Marinette!"

Tikki giggled some more. "More confusion around your identities is always a good thing! Even if it's just one of the city's superhero reporters that doesn't think that it's possible for you to be the same person."

"Yeah, I guess." Marinette thought about it for another minute, then shrugged and pushed the thought away. She was far too busy to waste time wondering about inaccurate speculation and gossip about her superhero self. It wasn't as though it was doing anyone any harm, anyway. "I'll figure it out later. Tikki, can you pass me my Literature notebook? I want to finish all of this week's readings today. Then maybe I'll have enough time later in the week to tailor a couple of my outfits so that they fit me better."

"Okay, Marinette!"

"Ugh, Chat Noir, can you stop growing?"

Up ahead of her, Chat Noir snickered, shoving his hair back out of his face as he flashed a devilish look back at her. "Jealous, Bug? It's not my fault that I've actually grown and you- have you shrunk, maybe?"

"Ugh," Ladybug grumbled again, pushing herself forward as they raced across town towards a reported akuma. That was totally unfair. She had grown, surpassing her mom and keeping up with all of her friends. Maybe she wasn't the tallest out of them, but it wasn't as though she was dwarfed by Adrien and Nino or anything. Adrien was the tallest of her friends, even, and she came up to just around his nose, but with Chat Noir?

With his latest growth spurt, Ladybug would be lucky if the top of her head even managed to reach his shoulders. Her partner delighted in his towering height, making a big deal about teasing her about being able to reach things without jumping, or swinging herself up.

Not that it was exactly a big deal if she had to do that, of course. It wasn't hard. Besides, being small had its advantages! There was less surface area to get grabbed or hit by akumas, it was easier to wedge herself into hiding spots, she could slip into small spaces far more easily than her gangly partner...

...but still. It was the principle of the thing. She didn't exactly want to look like a child next to her ridiculously towering partner. Maybe the city had decided that she was actually the adult out of the two for some strange reason, but it would be nice to actually look the part.

(Her one condolence was that there were short adults, ones even shorter than her. She would have been super grumpy if she had stopped growing at her mom's height, since- well, Ladybug was pretty certain that no one would have taken her very seriously if even some école élémentair students towered over her.)

"My Lady?" Chat Noir asked after several minutes of running had passed. He had slowed down, Ladybug noted in the back of her mind, and she had subconsciously matched him. "You're quieter than usual. I don't actually think that you've shrunk!"

Ladybug had to laugh at that. "I know, kitty-cat. And I have grown, I swear! Just- just not to ridiculous-person heights," she added with a sniff, turning up her nose. "It's completely unnecessary."

Chat Noir snickered at that, his ears perking back up as his worry clearly dissipated. "Unnecessary? Do you want to know how useful that unnecessary height is in my civilian life? Why, just the other day, my friend's mom asked me to grab something from a high shelf so that she didn't have to get out the stepstool, and she called me a very helpful young man when I did!"

"I've heard that tall people have a higher risk of blood clots and cancer," Ladybug parried, hoping that she was actually remembering her reading for health class correctly. "And heart issues. I'd rather have to pull out a stool than have heart issues."

Chat Noir practically fell over as he laughed even harder. "I think you're making stuff up and evading! Cancer, really?"

"Am not!" Ladybug insisted, even though she was totally evading Chat Noir's point. Adrien had done something similar for her mom earlier in the week (and had been rewarded with a cookie, which he had been far too happy about), and Marinette had been thankful for his height and extra reach then. He helped her and Alya all the time with reaching books in the library, too, when there was something that they couldn't quite reach. It didn't happen often, necessarily- neither of the two girls were really short, just normal sized thank-you-very-much- but sometimes a book was just barely out of reach and it wouldn't be a good idea to try to pull it down because it could slip out of her grasp and hit her head and then knock her out and then she would get a concussion and fail her exams and-

Well. Anyway. It was probably a better idea to either ask for help or grab a stool instead of risking injury to herself or damage to the book.

"I hope you know that I'm looking that up when I get home," Chat Noir informed her. Then he snuck another glance at her, slowing down a touch more. At this rate, civilians were going to start complaining about the superheroes taking forever to get there.

Ladybug quirked an eyebrow at him. "What, kitty-cat?"

"You know, if your height bugs you that much, my Lady, Plagg told me that our transformations- well, they can be whatever we want," Chat Noir told her, his voice going quiet so that no one would overhear him. "And, if we really wanted to, it can change, like, physical features. Like height."

Ladybug blinked at him, and then her partner's suggestion sunk in and she scowled. "I'm not going to cheat and magic myself taller, Chat Noir!"

"It was just a suggestion, in case the height stuff was really bothering you!" Chat Noir yelped, backpedaling quickly. "In case you didn't know about that bit but might be interested! I wasn't saying that you should or anything! Just that it was something you could consider. If you wanted to."

"I wouldn't consider it," Ladybug told him tartly. "What would be the point?"

(That was a lie. She totally considered it.)

(Just for a moment, though. Really.)

Marinette scowled as she shot out of yet another hiding spot that had been invaded by other students and made (another) dash for it, pushing herself to run as fast as she could. She could hear the akuma drawing closer, and she really had to transform before the akuma tore into the area and zapped her up alongside all of the other civilians in the street.

Ugh. Why couldn't people find their own hiding spots and leave hers alone? Everyone knew by now that the more people that were hidden in a spot, the more likely it was that the akuma of the day would find them.

"Marinette! Hold tight!"

"What-" Marinette started, startled, before she was scooped up my a pair of familiar arms. A second later, she and her rescuer were up on the rooftops and positively flying across the city, the streets a blur below.

Aha. It was Chat Noir.

It had been a few years since she had really interacted with her partner as a civilian, Marinette realized as she clung to Chat Noir's shoulders. There hadn't really been any akumas targeting her, not since Lila had been sent packing in disgrace, and the agility and strength that she had gotten from battles as a superhero helped her get out of the way before she could get in much danger- well, most of the time, at least. There hadn't been any more akumas wanting to go out on dates with her, either, or awkward encounters leading to more-awkward brunches with her parents. So it was honestly a little surprising that he remembered her name, all things considered, and even more surprising that he would go out of his way to rescue her specifically.

Not that it wasn't appreciated, of course, because it very much was. But it was still surprising.

"That akuma doesn't look like one to mess around with," Chat Noir puffed in her ear as he launched them across a street. "And I'm pretty certain that I saw Hawkmoth and Mayura out and about, too. So this battle is going to be super fun."

"Can you drop me off at my house?" Marinette asked right away They were headed in that direction anyway, she could tell, and if her partner was right- and he often was- about the supervillains being out, then she would need to grab a few Miraculous for backups before going out. "I can stay there, it should be far enough away from the akuma. You remember, at the bakery?"

"Got it, Princess!" Chat Noir's trajectory didn't change, which- well, which suggested that he had been headed for the bakery anyway. He adjusted his grip and sped up when a loud bang behind them signaled that some building had been pretty well destroyed. "Hold tight!"

It didn't take long at all for them to reach the bakery. Chat Noir landed lightly on her balcony, neatly avoiding all of the chairs and the table that she and the other girls had left out after their most recent tea party. "Here you go!"

"Thank you," Marinette told him, loosening her legs from around his waist and dropping lightly to the ground before reaching forward to give him a hug. "The save is greatly appre-"

She stopped. Paused. Because instead of her head just barely reaching his shoulders, like she was used to as Ladybug, her head came up to his nose. Somehow, the height difference had shrunk by a head.

What.

"Is something wrong, Marinette?" Chat Noir asked after a second had passed. He sounded confused.

Marinette shook her head hastily,. "No, it's, uh- I just thought you were taller! Because Ladybug is so much shorter in all of your pictures, you know?" she added hastily, trying to cover her slip. "So, uh..."

Chat Noir laughed at that. "Yeah, she's a tiny bug, isn't she?" he asked, his tone entirely fond. "But what she lacks in height, she more than makes up for in spirit and spitfire. And if people underestimate her because of her size- well, that just makes our job a bit easier, right? The akuma thinks it doesn't need to try its hardest to win, and we stroll up and hand them their ass on a platter."

"Right," Marinette managed, just barely keeping herself from frowning. She was Ladybug! Why was Chat Noir talking as though she was so much taller than her alter ego?

"I never tell her how endearing that is, because I worry that she might feel like I'm patronizing her, but it's really just like- well, she's one heck of a firecracker in a small package." Chat Noir grinned at her. "Small but packs far more of a punch than anyone would expect. And I should really get back so that she doesn't end up facing the akuma on her own," he added quickly, stepping back and giving her a wave. "Stay safe, Marinette!"

Marinette waved, waiting for Chat Noir to launch himself into the air before diving into her room and digging for the Miraculous box. She pulled out four Miraculous- three to definitely use, and a bonus just in case- and then called for Tikki.

She would have to mull over the strange height disparity later. Right now, duty called.

The weirdness only continued. Now that Ladybug was aware that there was something off, it seemed as though she just couldn't stop noticing other things that seemed didn't seem quite right. The most recent Odd Thing, as she had decided to dub it, was when Ladybug had escorted many of her classmates- including Nino, Alya, and Adrien- to safety, since there was an akuma rampaging through the building that they were visiting on their field trip, and of course she didn't want them hurt. It hadn't taken much to get people to evacuate, and now she was taking a quick breather before plunging back into the fight.

And in the seconds that made up that breather, Ladybug had noticed that her friends seemed a lot taller than normal. But how could they be taller?

Something really, really weird was going on, that was for sure. Adrien was as tall as Chat Noir it seemed, with her head only reaching his shoulders, and Nino and Alya seemed to have shot up as well. She had to wonder if maybe her perception of her friends' heights was just off somehow- she had been wearing (low) heels to school sometimes, maybe that was it- but there hadn't been much time to think about it then. The akuma was raging ever closer, and an evacuation to a safe zone did no good if the akuma was allowed to reach the safe zone again.

So once again, Ladybug didn't allow herself time to think about how plausible her explanation was. She flung herself into the fight, and by the time it ended, the only concern on Marinette's mind was thinking up an explanation for her being gone for the entire battle.

Then she saw Chat Noir as her civilian self again, followed by Ladybug making the time to do a one-on-one interview with Alya. Ladybug had to save Adrien from an overeager fan who had been akumatized. Every time, something just seemed off, but- well, she never really had the time to give it any thought.

The last straw finally came when Marinette was browsing the Ladyblog for the first time in- well, ages.

A reduced amount of homework had coincided with both a break in commissions and an unusually low number of akuma attacks, so she had decided to take advantage of the break to catch up on some much-needed rest and to catch up with what was being said about her on the Ladyblog.

And on the blog, there- well, there was a photo. A series of photos, really, in a very lovely article posted on the most recent Heroes Day and pinned to the top of the page. It was a reflection on the years of akumas and all that the superheroes had done for the city, with pictures from the most recent Heroes Day celebration along with photos from past celebrations. Ladybug and Chat Noir were in all of the photos, of course, with a rotating cast of secondary heroes behind them. Each year, it was obvious that Chat Noir was growing taller, catching up to the Mayor's height easily, a boy's silhouette turning into a man's. Next to him...

Marinette compared the pictures once, twice, three times. No, it wasn't just her imagination. Chat Noir grew taller and filled out with lean muscle, but next to him- well, Ladybug looked like she might as well have been copy-pasted from year to year. And in one of the last photos...

"My arms aren't that twiggy, are they?" Marinette demanded, shrugging off her hoodie to get a better look at herself. Just like she had thought- her arms were like a gymnast's, hardly bulky but clearly strong with lean, practiced muscles, just like the rest of her. Marinette had had to awkwardly wave off comments about her muscles before- after all, no one just got the physique of a professional gymnast without putting in some work- so she knew that her muscles were there and noticeable. And yet, in that photo...

Maybe it was just a bad angle?

No. No, she wasn't just going to accept that and move on. Marinette had been noticing things that were off between her normal self and her alter-ego for a while now, and she had always waved them off as coincidences or her misremembering things. But not anymore. She refused.

Today, Marinette was going to figure out what was going on.

Snatching up a book and a stray piece of chalk, Marinette stalked over to a blank section of wall. Facing the wall, she placed the book on her head, flat and level. Once she was satisfied with how flat it was, Marinette swiped a short line of chalk under the book, marking her Marinette height. Then she called on Tikki, who-

Well, who had apparently been napping before Marinette abruptly transformed. Whoops.

She's apologize later with a cookie. Tikki could never stay that upset for long.

With a small wince, Ladybug turned back to the wall, taking a step to the side so that she wouldn't be right on top of her previous mark before lining the book up again and making another mark. She stepped back, fully expecting the marks to be side-by-side and the whole looking like she didn't grow at all thing to be all in her head-

-but that wasn't the case.

"What the heck," Ladybug muttered, looking from one mark to the other. The Ladybug mark was significantly lower. She had probably been that height when she started being Ladybug over four years ago.

What was going on?

"No wonder I always look fourteen at most in the photos!" Ladybug exclaimed, glancing towards the mirror this time. From this angle, she could confirm that her superhero build looked just the same as it had at the start. "I'm stuck in my old form! Spots off!"

Tikki spiraled free and- oh, the little sprite was clearly muffling giggles. Marinette narrowed her eyes at her kwami. "Do you want to explain why my superhero self is an entire head shorter than my- well, my normal self?"

"It's not all my fault!" Tikki objected, clearly still swallowing her mirth. "You had a pretty specific picture of what Ladybug looked like after your first few transformation, so I- er, the magic- just assumed that you just wanted to keep your exact same transformation."

"Uh-huh." Marinette gave Tikki an unimpressed look. "And the magic just assumed that my 'very specific' image of Ladybug went all the way down to the exact measurements I had when I started? And that my 'image of Ladybug' wouldn't account for me growing?"

Tikki fell silent. Her eyes darted back and forth as she battled with keeping her smile hidden. Marinette waited, her arms crossed. And then Tikki cracked.

"Okay, fine, I might have fiddled with things a little bit," Tikki admitted, zipping backwards out of Marinette's reach. "I've done it before with other holders, to see how long it takes for them to notice, and it's always so funny when they do!"

"Ha ha," Marinette said dryly. She peered at Tikki. "So how fast did I notice, compared to your other holders?"

Tikki giggled. "You aren't going to like it."

Marinette groaned. "I did that badly, huh?"

"To be fair, you've been incredibly busy," Tikki assured her hastily. "You have school, and commissions, and babysitting, and putting together your portfolio, and doing long-distance studies with the Order of the Guardians, and akuma battles. You had more important things to worry about than if your superhero self had been growing at the same rate as your civilian self!"

Marinette remained less than convinced.

"Besides, it was helpful, wasn't it?" Tikki added hopefully. "It's easier to hide when you're smaller!"

The groan Marinette gave was Tikki's only answer.

A few minutes ticked by as Marinette contemplated what to do next. Her knee-jerk reaction was to ask Tikki to adjust the Ladybug transformation to grow with her right away, because she should have been growing alongside Chat Noir, and he had been teasing her about her height for ages. But a sudden jump in growth would no doubt attract attention from the press, along with unwanted speculation. If the public thought that she was an adult now- even if Hawkmoth wouldn't be fooled- then that could help keep her own identity secret from reporters and other curious people.

But on the other hand, Marinette wasn't very interested in keeping her superhero self short and spindly. Maybe it was just vanity, but she had worked hard during those akuma battles and earned those muscles. She had grown up, but the way she looked didn't reflect that at all. And she wanted it to.

(Well. Somewhat. She didn't get many comments on her figure- that she knew of, anyway- and she wasn't exactly interested in starting. Keeping a thirteen-year-old's body in that regard might be helpful.)

She didn't have to make a decision right away, Marinette decided after another minute's thought. There would be no harm in keeping her current transformation for a few more days while she figured out how much to change and how fast to change it.

After all, Ladybug had looked the exact same for years.

"What's new?" Chat Noir asked cheerfully as he landed next to Ladybug on a darkened rooftop. There were two separate contests going on in the city that evening, so the two of them had opted to call a patrol rather than just sit around waiting for an akuma to show up. "Anything interesting?"

"My kwami's been shrinking me."

Chat Noir blinked. Once. Twice. "Pardon?"

"I've been noticing some weird stuff going on," Ladybug explained, glancing across the city to make sure that there weren't any disturbances yet before turning back to her partner. "People I know in my civilian life who seem a lot taller when I'm transformed, mostly. And then I saw the photos on the Ladyblog with past Heroes Days- and I didn't look like I had grown at all, even though I have! So I marked my height on my wall, and I'm a whole head taller as my civilian self! Apparently Tikki was playing a prank on me."

Chat Noir blinked again, then sniggered. "That's hilarious!"

"It is not!" Ladybug protested. "I could have been growing all this time, so I wouldn't always look so short next to you! And how am I supposed to change to match what I should look like now without people thinking that I'm magicking myself to look different?" She spread her hands, gesturing at an invisible headline. "I can see the headlines now- 'Ladybug padding her suit?'. No thank you!"

Chat Noir choked, and it took Ladybug a moment to figure out where his brain had gone. Scowling, she tossed her yo-yo at him in gentle reprimand. "Not like that!"

"I- I'm sorry, what else was I supposed to think about?" Chat Noir managed, still sounding a bit choked. "There's not exactly a lot of things that people normally stuff!"

"Get your mind out of the gutter! I meant, like, muscle-wise." Ladybug tapped her biceps, still as bony-thin as they had been when she first started being a superhero. "I've gotten a fair bit of muscle from swinging all over Paris, but Tikki decided to hide that as part of her prank, too."

Chat Noir's shoulders relaxed. "Oh, okay. Gotcha."

"Though I do suppose that the tabloids would focus more on those other areas if I adjusted everything to match my build now," Ladybug mused, and was amused to see her partner promptly choke and turn red, clearly scandalized.

"Ladybug!"

Ladybug finally cracked and laughed, elbowing her partner "You should have seen your face! That was great!"

Chat Noir pouted, muttering something under his breath. Ladybug was pretty sure she heard the word meanie amongst the muttering, which only made her laugh harder. He stuck his lip out further in an even more dramatic pout, and she practically folded onto the rooftops, completely breathless.

She couldn't help it. His face.

Chat Noir made the best expressions.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Chat Noir grumbled, flopping down to sit next to her. "You are destroying my image of you, I hope you know that."

"I'm sure you'll survive." Finally getting her wheezing under control, Ladybug pushed herself back up to a sit. "I just couldn't resist."

They sat in silence for a minute, eyes scanning the city and listening intently for anything out of place. Finally Chat Noir spoke up again. "So what are you going to do about your transformation? Anything?"

Ladybug let out a long breath. "I keep asking myself that. Because, like, it's really good for hiding my identity, since I'm not at all the same height. But I worked hard for that muscle, darn it! Is it so wrong of me to actually want for it to show? Or to want to actually look like I've grown up at all?" She let out a long sigh. "I've been thinking about it and I for sure want to actually look like I have muscles, and I'll have to add that gradually. I just don't know about everything else."

Chat Noir hummed. "Well, maybe you can add some height but not all? Then it's still a bit of a disparity to throw off people who might be looking," he added. "And then once Hawkmoth is gone, go through a bit more of a growth spurt, since you won't have to transform during the day so often and people in your civilian life won't be wondering where you're vanishing off to all of the time."

"As if I really needed any more motivation to defeat Hawkmoth," Ladybug said with a laugh, but Chat Noir had a point. "That does sound reasonable, though. And if people notice me getting taller, then they might think that it's a clue, that they should be looking for girls who went through really late growth spurts."

Her partner grinned. "Exactly! I would be tempted to do the same, because that's a fantastic way to throw everyone off, but I think you might actually kill me if you started "growing" only for me to magic myself taller."

Ladybug's sharp nod made them both laugh.

"I've been thinking about doing a costume upgrade, too," Ladybug added once they had both calmed. She shrugged at Chat Noir's disbelieving look. "What? It's been years, and I have the world's most basic design, just because I panicked and blanked when I transformed the first time. And it would give the reporters something else to talk about other than 'did Ladybug suddenly get muscles?'"

"Well, if you decide you want to do that and want some help coming up with a new design, I have a friend in my civilian life who's a fantastic designer," Chat Noir told her, a fond grin spreading across his face. "I bet that she would be able to come up with some pretty great ideas."

"I think I can come up with my own ideas, thanks," Ladybug told him, and then scowled when a doubtful look flashed across his face. "Just I panicked once when I was thirteen and didn't think about what I wanted my transformation to look like doesn't mean that I can't think of good designs, Chat Noir!"

"Okay, okay, I believe you!" Chat Noir said with a laugh, holding his hands up in mock defense. Ladybug playfully pummeled them, and soon enough they were wrestling across the rooftops, Tikki's prank all but forgotten for the time being.

(Well. At least until the night's akuma showed up and laughed at Ladybug's diminutive height, that was.)

Ladybug's new outfit debuted a week later, black sections breaking up the red and black polka dots and a short open-front skirt- long enough to be decorative and look nice, short enough that it would be difficult for it to snag or have akumas grab on, so at least it wouldn't be impractical- a striking contrast to the simple onesie pattern that she had worn before. It made headlines, reporters and bloggers all too happy to talk about the changed design and how nice it looked and how well it suited Ladybug.

In fact, everyone was so caught up in the new design that it was three full months before the first person noticed and commented on the other new changes in Ladybug's appearance, both her apparent growth and the new muscles visible in her arms and along her legs. The internet promptly exploded with theories about it, wondering if the new costume was making illusions or if the changes were real. Doctors and fitness experts chimed in, adding their voices to the fray.

At home, Marinette just smiled as she turned away from the theories on the Ladyblog and back towards her latest commission work for Jagged Stone. None of the guesses were remotely close, of course, but when it came to things with her alter ego...

Well, that was just the way she liked it.

[silverwhiteraven]

Borne of the Stars - Chapter 14 - An MLB Kryptonian AU

Tag List:  @eve-valution @weird-pale-blonde-person @kris-pines04 @soulmate-game @abrx2002 @amayakans @vixen-uchiha @heldtogetherbysafetypins @raisuke06 @dorkus-minimus @mopester-is-here @moonlightstar64 @annabellabrookes @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-navistar-carol @elspethshadow @chocolatecatstheron @ivymala07 @maribat-is-lifeblood

[ Summary: Author is Back! The Heroes now meet. They also meet their first Akuma. ]

[ Posted on A03 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 13 ] [ Chapter 15 ]

Marinette was falling.

Well, falling as much one could when holding on for dear life to one end of a magical yo-yo that acted as its own weird grappler mixed with a trapeze. Neither of which she had ever used in her life.

First time for everything she supposed, though she also hoped this wouldn’t end with lasts, either.

Speaking of firsts being lasts, she realized her latest upswing was about to turn into a crash course collision with a black clad figure floating in the open air. As she yelled a terrified “ Look out!! ” at the person she didn't know was friend or foe, she really did wish this would be her one and only time her bad aim with a yo-yo ever turned into this situation. She really doubted it, though, but a girl can dream.

She barely saw a flash of blonde hair and green, green eyes turn towards her in shock before they slammed into each other, and fell several meters to a high rooftop below with mutual ‘ oofs ’ and wire wrapped around them. They rolled to a stop, Marinette resting awkwardly atop the other who had her back to the roof.

“I am so so sorry!” Marinette immediately apologized as soon as breath was back in her lungs. “I’m really new at this, I-” She was interrupted and silenced a moment later by a laugh and green, feline eyes looking into her own from below.

“Don’t worry about it, little lady,” the girl clad in black soothed reassuringly, her French accented. “I know a thing or two about knocking everything over when you first start out. I’d make a great practice dummy if you ever need it. Now, let's get out of this- uh…” She looked down, confused, at the string around them as she gave her arms a tug. “Wow, this stuff is stronger than I thought.”

Marinette could just feel the yo-yo string staying firmly tight with every tug, and realized she still had one end of it in her hand. “Oh! Let me just-” One tug, and the yo-yo came zipping around them and back into her hand. She was up in an instant, backing up with a flush of embarrassment on her face. “S-sorry, again, I’ll get better at this soon.”

The other girl just grinned, revealing pointed canines as she stood up as well. “Take your time, I can carry us both for as long as we need until you’re ready.”

A distant rumble caught their attention, and the blonde girl went tense and turned back to Marinette.

“Let’s make these introductions quick. I’m Oncilla the Black Cat,” The girl in black said, a hand over her heart and the other behind her back, taking a rather formal looking bow. “You must be the Ladybug I was told to expect?”

Marinette gaped like a fish for a moment before nodding quickly. “Oh, yes! Ladybug, yeah, you can call me that, not many other options with this costume, huh?” She joked nervously with a glance at her red and black-spotted hoodie.

“It suits you, Buggy,” Oncilla said with a grin, then walked over to the edge of the roof towards where the noise was coming from. Marinette- Ladybug- followed, fidgeting the yo-yo in her hand. “We should get going,” Oncilla added, squinting into the distance. “If there's anything I know, it’s that the damage only gets worse with time.”

“Experienced?” Ladybug asked, looking out over the edge nervously.

“Very. You?”

Ladybug laughed nervously once more. “Only with classroom bullies. This is…”

“Bigger, yeah. But think of it this way,” Oncilla turned to Ladybug and set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “In a classroom, you're both on equal footing. Out here with villains? The field is bigger, but being Ladybug means your footing is the same, too. And you know what else you have that they don’t?”

“What?” Ladybug asked curiously.

“Back-up,” Oncilla said confidently through a big grin. “Bullies never have many friends, and villains are nothing more than slightly bigger bullies with even bigger heroes to oppose them. Trust me, your Ladyship, we got this. ”

Ladybug’s shoulders relaxed, and a grateful smile spread on her face. “Thank you. Having friends to back you up is always a good choice. Glad to have you as one of mine.”

Oncilla beamed at her. “Let’s head off. I can fly, but since you can’t, I'll stick with you. I've learned my lesson with going in head-first without my team, I won’t be teaching that to you on our first day together.”

“I appreciate it, considering I’m still not used to this yet at all,” Ladybug showed the yo-yo in her hand. “Catch me if I fall again? I don’t think ladybugs land on their feet…”

“‘Course,” Oncilla answered, then pulled a silver staff from behind her back. Not only did she plan to stay by Ladybug, she also seemed to be planning to forego flying so she could keep the same pace. Ladybug appreciated the gesture, and with a toss of her yo-yo and a step off the edge, she was off towards her first ever in-person super-villain, partner close behind.

Their travel wasn't long, though it felt like forever to the poor Ladybug, who was holding any more panicked yells from escaping. She really hoped she would get used to this soon, she really did.

They found their villain near the Eiffel Tower, the large monument clearly being the Akuma’s goal.

“They're trying to get a higher vantage point,” Oncilla fills in as Ladybug notices the Akuma was only floating so high off the ground. One of the Black Cat hero’s feline ears was flicking, cluing the other into Oncilla’s enhanced hearing as well.

As Ladybug turned back to look at the villain, squinting at them, she could have sworn for just a second she heard the Akuma muttering to themself. Maybe she got her hearing enhanced, too, just not as much? She supposed it went along with the themes, really.

“So how do you usually handle this kind of thing?” Ladybug questioned without moving her eyes from the target. She also kept them moving closer, though slower to keep from rushing or alerting the Akuma.

“Observe, strategize, attack, and don’t ever hesitate. Waiting is only good if it lets you get information, otherwise that’s just stalling, and stalling is bad if you don’t want extra collateral damage.” Oncilla was clearly concentrating well on the situation, looking and sounding perfectly in her element. Ladybug felt out of place, but she still held to the hope that she could fill her new role without any classic Marinette-clumsiness getting in the way.

“Observe…” Ladybug mused. “I saw earlier from my own, uh, high places, that all the glowing street parts popping up are a big, connecting map. The roofs of some buildings are even getting marked with icons.”

“Oh, I noticed that too, a... friend pointed it out to me,” Oncilla nodded. “But why turn the whole city into a giant map?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Maybe they got lost, couldn't find a place to ask directions?” She tapped her chin, thinking more. “I also saw a few odd things while I was swinging around. A few miscellaneous places had markers on them, almost like pins in a personal map rather than existing landmarks. They could be caused by the Akuma’s personal interests in those places?”

“Sounds reasonable. But in that case, they already know the layout of the city. Again, why a map ? Maybe...”

“They're tracking something?” Ladybug filled in.

“Exactly!” Oncilla snapped and smiled at her. “Maybe a bit more like a GPS system. Or a treasure hunt. They don't know where the thing they're looking for is, but they know it’s going to be marked on the map. So, they need to get somewhere to be able to see the map best.”

“Like a really tall tower in the middle of a lot of shorter buildings,” Ladybug finished, then looked onward, past the Akuma, to the Tower itself.

“Let’s intercept them at the base,” she suggested, “If we can't stop them there, we can at least follow them up and see where they go from there.”

“Smart,” the other replied. “Let’s go.” And with that, Oncilla was running and pole vaulting towards the Tower, skirting far around the Akuma to avoid notice, Ladybug close behind with her yo-yo.

The two heroes got to the base of the Eiffel Tower before the Akuma did, though not by long. However, the Akuma seemed not to notice them, eyes locked on the upper levels. That is, until a violet glow ringed their mask, and their eyes snapped downward to the duo, before their previously pensive expression warped into a cold sneer.

“The Ladybeetle and Black Cat! You finally arrived!” The Akuma spoke loudly, impatience thick in their tone.

The two dropped into defensive stances at the recognition, Ladybug’s more sloppy and unpracticed than Oncilla’s. Ladybug thought to herself that she should really take more fencing classes as Marinette. Maybe Kara and her friends could assist, too? Not the time to think about this! She self reprimanded, turning her focus back to the villain.

“What about us?” Oncilla taunted, bringing the focus of the Akuma to her.

“I am Atlas, and in exchange for your Miraculous, I shall be able to find what I have lost with the gift I have been granted. So hand them over.”

“Yeah, no,” the Black Cat wielder continued, “These aren't toys to trade like Halloween candy. We keep them, and you get lost.”

"No! Give me your Miraculous and get out of my way so I can get back to finding my things!" The Akuma bellowed at the heroes.

"I'm sorry Atlas, but we really can't do that," Ladybug chimed in, looking conflicted. She wasn't used to this, it was only her first time as a hero, let alone negotiating with a super-villain or a possessed civilian. Yet, there was something here she did know how to do.

"But!" She interrupts the Akuma as their face contorts into a deeper scowl, their body crouched and coiled, ready to jump at them. "But, maybe we can help?"

"Help?" Atlas became confused, and the butterfly-shaped glow returned. They waved it away with a shake of their head, "Quiet, Hawk Moth, maybe she can help you with this, too."

"Yeah- Yes! I can try to help, what is it you lost, maybe we can look for it." She glanced back to the other hero, making sure she was on board. Oncilla shrugged, relaxing from her previous stance and restraining herself from jumping right into fighting.

The Akuma looked thoughtful before answering.

"Well, at first, I just lost my pens,” the Akuma recalled aloud. “But then..." Their expression contorted in pain as they remembered their moments that led to their Akumatization.

"I lost a lot, actually," they amended. "Today was rough, a lot went bad. I just wanted to relax and work on my calligraphy when I was finally home. But I couldn't find my pens, or my backups... God, I found my good paper with spilled ink! " Their voice rose again, the anger and frustration growing and radiating from them like a toxin. Ladybug kept herself from recoiling and held herself as steady as she could, listening.

"I'm probably the one who spilled it when I left this morning, hell, I probably forgot my pens in the locker when I emptied it, or on the subway like a freaking idiot . I keep doing things like this, losing everything . I can't keep anything straight, I can't remember anything right, I can't do what's expected of me! " Tears streamed down their cheeks now, and their cries had risen to a yell.

"I need everything mapped out for me because I'm useless without that!! So just, HELP ME , or GIVE UP and GIVE ME THE MIRACULOUS!! "

The butterfly glow returned, and only a split second of unheard prompting had the sorrowful and angered Atlas attacking the heroes off-guard.

The two heroes jumped apart, dodging the first attack. Oncilla was quick to engage Atlas in  close combat while Ladybug recovered herself.

The fight moved away from the newer hero, and in an attempt to get herself closer, tossed her yo-yo into the beams of the Tower. It stuck and pulled her up, but she failed to get it back down, and ended up hanging from the string a few meters in the air. Looking around to see if there was anywhere for her to safely fall to, she realized, even if it wasn't much, she could see things better than from the ground.

“Oncilla!” Ladybug called out, and saw the other hero’s feline ears twitch towards her in acknowledgment. “I need to get higher, I have an idea! Can you handle them for a minute more?”

“Of course!” came the response. “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, I got this! Go!”

With a quick, hard tug, and another throw of the yo-yo as she fell, Ladybug was heading up the Eiffel Tower.

As she swung to the peak, she called out, “ Lucky Charm! ”

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Congrats on 300! That's really amazing! Well done! Not surprised though, because your writing is super amazing! I especially love your undercover AU for ToG! My prompt is: "Really? Are you sure?" for Rowaelin, or alternatively another ToG ship, please?

I went with Rowaelin because, I’m trash for them. I’ve accepted that. Also thank you so, so much, I’m glad you like it. I really hope I did this prompt justice for you <3 Using my Undercover taglist here too.

---------

Rowan’s day had been rough, to say the least. It was also a Monday so, it was just a given, really.

First off, Aelin had been sick for, well, he didn’t know how many mornings in a row it was now, he’d lost count. He hated not being able to help her when she was sick; not knowing what to do, but she kept telling him she was fine. Clearly she wasn’t fine or he wouldn’t be holding her hair back every morning.  Aelin had promised him today before he’d left for work that she’d get it checked out, just to be sure. He had wanted to stay home, to go with her, to be there for her just in case it was something bad. His wonderful wife had just told him he was an overbearing buzzard and ‘to got the fuck to work’. There was no arguing with her, well he could try but, there would be no winning. And so he had relented, giving her a quick kiss to the forehead and telling her he loved her and dashing out the door before he was late.

And then he’d gotten to work.

He and Lorcan owned a Private Investigator firm, mainly specialising in missing persons cases. They usually found odd trails that the police couldn’t and if it was something solid, they passed on the information. Sometimes they were lucky and other times, not so much. Fenrys and Connall were in the building when he walked in and Rowan couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He had a new assistant, she was slim, tall, blonde and pretty he guessed. To be quite honest, ever since Aelin had walked into his life, other women weren’t even noticeable. He only saw her, only ever thought of her.  Every time he hired someone new, the twins were over at the firm in an instant, fighting to win them over. Unless it was one of the times Rowan’s assistant was a male, then it was an easy win for Connall.

“Can I help you two imbeciles, or are you just here to fawn over the latest recruit. If that’s the case, which I know it is, then please leave. Or, better yet, go up a floor and bother Lorcan.”

Fenrys simply laughed and shook his head, his hair swinging with the motion from where he’d tied it back, “But the ladies love me Ro, I mean, what’s not to love?”

Connall snorted, and then smirked when his brother turned to glare at him. “I’m the better looking twin Fen, we all know it.”

He was not about to deal with a fucking pissing match today. He sighed, deciding to get rid of them as quickly as possible, hoping it would give him the peace and quiet he needed to actually work. “Connall, Lorcan actually has someone new up there with him too.”

“Ooo, really?” The smug bastard perked up at that and Fenrys looked at him with suspicion, most likely knowing where this was going. “Yeah. Dark haired, dark eyes, glasses and he’s shorter than you. Very much your type. You didn’t see him the other week because he hides behind the filing cabinets when you come in, blushing like a schoolgirl.”

As suspected, Con moved like lightning, not even bothering to wait for an elevator and taking the stairs. He made a beeline for his office, pushing the door open as fast as he could, but just as he was closing it, a foot slipped into the little gap and he wanted nothing more than to murder Fenrys just then.

“Come on Rowan, you just set my brother up, you could at least help me out too. I thought I was your favourite?” He shoved himself through the door, walking over to sit in front of Rowan’s desk and kicking his feet up. Not that it lasted, especially when he was pushed out of the chair and onto the floor. Rowan laughed as the golden haired man rubbed his ass, staring up at him with a pout.

“You’ll do well to remember, boyo, that without me, you’d have never pushed yourself to even talk to a girl. Also my new assistant is very much off of the market.”

He sat down in his newly vacated chair and pulled out his laptop. His newest case was a woman who’d come in about two weeks ago, saying her husband had been kidnapped. She was in hysterics as she’d told him the story, saying the police wouldn’t help, and so Rowan had said he’d do what he could. He went over everything the woman had given him and then followed on from there. Phone numbers, addresses and different picture sightings. Turned out that her husband had not in fact been kidnapped but had run off with another, much younger woman. He’d known for a few days now and was currently trying to figure out how to tell his client in the easiest way possible.

Rowan was broken from his thoughts when a certain pest spoke from across the room. For fucks sake, why hadn’t he left yet?

“How’s my best bud doing Rowan?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, now leave.”

“Har har. Ace knows I’d choose her over you, she’s so much more fun, hence why we’re besties.”

Rowan flipped him off, still not looking up from his laptop screen as he replied, “Aelin is sick.”

He flinched when Fen shouted, gripping onto the side of his desk from the sudden outburst. “What do you mean she’s sick? She’s never sick!”

“Keep your fucking voice down, fucking Christ. She keeps throwing up in the mornings but I keep getting told that she’s ‘fine’. Clearly, she is not fine.”

“Oh. Oh.” Rowan watched his face turn from worried confusion into some sedated happy smile. What the fuck did he mean ‘oh’?

“What do you mean ‘Oh’? I have no idea what’s wrong with her so you possibly can’t, and stop smiling. Aelin’s sickness is not something to smile about.”

His idiot friend tipped his head back and laughed, a deep rumbling laugh and Rowan wanted nothing more than to throttle him. When he finally stopped and met Rowan’s gaze again, he seemed to realise that Rowan still hadn’t understood what was so funny. “Wait. You really don’t get it do you? How can you-”

The sound of Rowan’s phone ringing cut the man off and he was pissed off at the interruption, until he saw that it was Aelin calling him. His wife never called when he was at work, not unless he’d asked her to when he had a few minutes spare. He was pressing the answer button within seconds, heart beating wildly in his chest. “Aelin sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, I just need you to come home.”

If nothing was wrong then why did she need him to come back? It had only been a few hours since he’d left the house.

“Alright, I’m coming. Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“Yes Buzzard, I promise. I’ll see you soon.”

He’d packed up as fast as he could, telling Fenrys that they’d talk later and to go and check that his twin wasn’t fucking the newbie in one of the bathrooms.

That was how he’d ended up here, bursting through the door of their newly purchased home. It was big of course, Aelin would have nothing less, but the interior was simple and modern. Quite tame for his very extravagant wife.

“Aelin, baby, I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!”

He ran through the halls, not even taking his shoes off which he would most certainly get reprimanded for later, and spotted his wife sitting at the bar eating a plate of pickles with a dip that looked like...peanut butter?

“You’re sick, why on earth are you eating that? Let’s get you back to bed.” His wife groaned and rolled her eyes, standing from her stool to walk over and grab a brown paper bag from the counter. She took slow steps towards him while nibbling on her lower lip, looking up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“I have a present for you.” Rowan stared at the brown bag in confusion, eyebrows furrowed as he tentatively took it from her hands. He didn’t open it yet, though he desperately wanted to.

“You made me come home because you wanted to give me a present? Couldn’t this have waited until later.” She shook her head, a giddy expression on her face.

“No, it couldn’t. Now come on, open it.”

He gave an exasperated sigh, almost forgetting he’d married a woman who had a talent for theatrics.  When he opened the bag, it had some sort of fabric inside of it, which confused him even more. Reaching in, he pulled it out carefully, before dropping the bag and unfolding it. It was  a baby vest and on it were the words ‘World’s Greatest Daddy’ with a sort of blurry black and white image printed onto the fabric just below. Holy fucking gods.

“Fireheart...really? Are you sure?” When he looked back at her, her eyes were lined with silver, and she nodded at him. He let out a shocked laugh before looking at the picture on the vest more closely. Now that he was concentrating, he could see the outline of a tiny foot and then a tiny head. No not just-

“Is that two heads? Two babies. We’re having twins?” Aelin let the tears flow freely now and nodded again and he laughed, scooping her up in his arms and spinning, relishing the sound of her delighted giggles. When Rowan set her back onto her feet, he dropped to his knees, leaving his face directly in line with her stomach. Lifting her top and leaning forward, he left a few gentle kisses to the skin before pressing his forehead there and whispering, “Hi babies, I’m your daddy. I want you to know that your mommy and I love you very much and that you are the most precious things in the world. I can’t wait to meet you, little ones.”

Aelin’s fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck and tugged lightly until he tilted to look up at her and realisation dawned on him then. “This is why you’ve been throwing up in the mornings.”

“Yes genius, I thought you’d have figured it out by now. I had that scan about two weeks ago, secretly hoping that you wouldn’t figure it out because I was waiting for the vest to be printed. Luckily I didn’t marry you for your brains.”

He couldn’t stop smiling, it was making his cheeks hurt but fuck did it feel good. He took hold of his wife’s wrist, bringing her hand forward to kiss her palm and sighing contentedly.

“I love you, Fireheart, to whatever end.”

“To whatever end, Buzzard.”

--------

I really hoped you liked it and honestly, I sort of like this AU I’ve created, so feel free to send some other prompts set in this universe if you like!

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @fancyclodpaintercookie @empress-sei @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @tswaney17 @queen-of-glass @thesirenwashere @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm @http-itsrebecca @eatmysandwiches @poisonous00 @flowersinvegas @julemmaes @mu-si-ca-l @spyofthenightcourt @sis-it-dont-add-up  @mad-madeline-ace​ @df3ndyr  @jesstargaryenqueen @notyournymphetish

[acdeaky]

love, the sledges

warning: fluff, mention of happily married couples, pregnancy, mentions of giving birth, mentions of hospital,

note: hi and welcome to the third and final instalment of the love, miss nurse series! i hope you’ve enjoyed this little series (it’s only taken 10 months to finish it)!

word count: 3.4k

eugene’s letter had almost left you a babbling mess. the promise, and thought, of seeing him in only two days time brought about an excitement which you had definitely not felt before. the thought of what to wear ran through your mind. he had only seen you in nurse scrubs, so his standards weren’t too high, but you wanted to impress. it was too short notice to make a dress, so you raided you wardrobe for the most perfect outfit to wear.

it was the thought of seeing eugene in a few short days which kept you going. it seemed silly, and you refused to tell your mother about your true intentions for friday night, but knowing that eugene would be stood on the steps of the town hall in mobile, waiting for no one but you, made you extremely happy. 

dressed in your best, 6:45pm slowly came around on that friday evening and you had never been more excited. you’d told your mother and father that you’d be at a small party with a few friends, celebrating the end of the war and welcoming back the free world. in reality, you knew it would only be you and eugene - well, that’s what you hoped.

your walk to the town hall seemed shorter than usual. normally, it wouldn’t take long to make the 15 minute walk, but your excitement must have taken over all your senses and you were there quicker than you knew.

the street lights beautiful lit the town as you made your way to the grand entrance. it was called that, but the only thing making it grand was the concrete steps and the tall pillars marking its entrance.

and there he stood.

at the foot of those stairs, blood free and clad in one of the most gorgeous suit you’ve seen in your life. it was a little too big for him, probably due to the weight loss throughout the war. but he still looked as beautiful as the day he was brought into the medic tent.

eugene hadn’t noticed you yet, letting you have a longer look at him before he saw you. just as you were about to call out to him, eugene turned around. one of the biggest smiles in the world shaped his face as he waved over to you. you couldn’t help be mirror his facial expression, picking up your pace slightly as you walked towards him.

and yet, just as the two of you were about to touch, you both stopped short. it was like you didn’t know what to do. of course you were happy he was here, hell, you were ecstatic, but it seemed too weird to touch. truth be told, you and eugene hadn’t known each other for long, but you knew much about each other.

yet, it still felt weird to touch each other, to hug. so you stood inches apart from each other, wondering what to do. it didn’t wipe the smiles off of yours face, though. you both stood smiling, so close to each other, almost touching. so close to touching.

“hi, love.” eugene finally said, taking his hand to hold one of your own.

“hi, genie. you look great.” you smiled back, using your free hand to grab his other one.

“and you look amazing, miss nurse.”

“if i’m calling you genie, you better call me Y/N.” you giggled, feeling confident to fully press yourself against eugene’s body. he didn’t even flinch and just basked in the feeling of finally touching you after five months.

“i like miss nurse better.”

“genie...” you said, a teasing undertone to your voice, but a serious look in your eye.

“okay, Y/N. i’ve made dinner reservations for us about,” he looked at his watch, “six minutes ago.”

“we better go then.”

“we should.” eugene let go of one of your hands, turned around and began to walk in the direction of his favourite restaurant. you eagerly followed behind him, catching up to walk side by side so you could talk to him. like usual, the conversation flowed naturally and you got to know eugene better than you have anyone. well, it had only been one evening together, but both of you could tell in your mind’s eyes that this was something special. 

over the following months, you and eugene spent more time together than you did with anyone else. although he found it hard to readjust to civilian life, you were there by his side through everything, spending time between being with eugene (as he stayed at home with his parents) and working at the local hospital. 

by the time you had met eugene’s parents, you had been secretly letting with him for almost five months. neither your parents nor eugene’s knew where the two of you were when you were together, but after getting spotted at eugene's family home, it didn't take long before both your families knew. 

“oh, eugene,” his mother gasped as she and eugene’s father pulled up their drive. she hurried to get out of the vehicle, quickly moving over to where you two were sat onto of a picnic blanket. “eugene bondurant, who is this lovely lady? aren't you going to introduce me?” 

eugene’s face turned a slight shade of red as he took his sunglasses off of his face and stood up from his place behind you. once he was straight, he held out his hand for you, which you gratefully accepted, and helped you up. as you stood, he pulled you closer to him and whispered “i’m sorry, i thought my parents were going to be later than this.” 

once he pulled away, you only giggled and shook your head, giving him a look which he knew you meant that it was okay. eugene introduced you to his mother and father, internally waiting for either of them to say something to you or him which was tasteless. but neither of that came. instead, his mother subtly pulled him aside and said “i like this one, keep her.” as his father took his turn at being the gentleman and led you inside. 

that afternoon turned evening was one of the most delightful dinners you had had in a long time. although neither you nor eugene had talked about meeting your respective families, this fluke meeting could not have gone better. after dinner was had and you and eugene's mother had cleared the table, eugene offered you a ride home, wanting to spend some time together which you had missed out on earlier. 

“let me meet your parents,’ he said as soon as both the car doors were shut. “tonight went better than we could have ever expected for meeting parents and i really, really wanna meet yours now.” 

“okay, genie,” you smiled, leaning over the middle console to get closer to him. “how about you come over tomorrow night after i've finished work and you can meet my parents? i’m cooking supper.” 

“sounds perfect, my love.” he smiled, not trying to contain his excitement at your plans. 

the next night, eugene knocked on your front door at precisely 8 o’clock, remembering what you had said about your father’s belief in punctuality. it took everything inside of you to contain your excitement, but you quickly opened the door before either your mother or father had the chance to.

“evening, mr sledge.” you smiled at him after you opened the door, seeing him dressed in his best with two bouquets of flowers in his hands.

“evening, miss nurse.” he winked, stepping forward into your family home as you moved aside for him.

“who’s at the door, sweetheart?” your mother called from the kitchen.

“someone i’d like you to meet.” you replied, shutting the door and wrapping your hands around eugene’s arm. your mother and father walked through the door and saw you and eugene stood together. neither of them said anything, but your mothers eyes began to well up.

“i’m eugene sledge, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” eugene smiled, as you let go of his arms and he walked forward to greet you mother. he handed her one of the bouquets and leaned foward to kiss her cheek. next, he stood in front of your father, his right hand stretched out before him. “please to meet you, sir.”

your father tried to hide his smile as eugene walked back over to you, handing you the other bouquet and taking your hand in his.

“is that why you made extra for super, Y/N?” your mother asked, mirroring your’s and eugene’s position with father.

“yes, eugene and i thought it was time that you met.”

“is this where you’ve been the past few months?” your father asked. you weren’t scared to answer, you knew he was just being protective and weary of his daughter dating, but knowing him and knowing eugene, you knew they would love each other.

“yes. we met in the war and kept in touch once it finished. we’ve been with each other ever since.” that was a good enough answer for both of your parents as they didn’t reply, only inviting eugene further into the house.

that evening was another one of the most delightful meals you had had in a long time. even though neither you nor eugene had thought about meeting the parents, both dinners had gone wonderfully and you couldn’t be happier. after supper was had and you and your mother had cleared the table, the three of you said your goodbyes to eugene just before he drove home.

“i like that kid.” you father commented, taking a slow puff from his pipe before walking back into the house.

days turned into weeks and weeks into months, so soon that summer was upon you and you and eugene were at your happiest. by now, both of you had met everyone important to the other and things seemed like they were out of a fairytale.

july came and eugene had begun to figure what he wanted to do. his father (and yours) had suggested that he got a job, begin saving for a family home and a wedding for the two of you. eugene declined the idea to work. of course, his future with you wasn’t set in stone, but he knew that you were the girl he wanted to marry.

he decided that he wanted to go to university to study and to get his degree. he didn’t know what in, but he also didn’t know how he would move from mobile to be closer to the university without you. after researching, he decided he was going to get his bachelor of science degree in business administration, yet he had something tying him to mobile.

you.

“genie, you have to go! this is your life, it’s important to you. please, don’t let me stop you.” you pleaded one late night outside of your front door, both of you stood on your porch. the day had been cooler, making the night cool, too, so you were wrapped in a blanket sat on the front swing as eugene paced in front of you.

“i cant go without you, don’t you see? i wanna marry you one day, but if i go to university, it’ll be years before that can happen. leaving you here, alone, that would break my heart.”

“then let’s get married,” eugene stopped in his tracks. “let’s do it in a few weeks,” he turned to face you. “we’ll have a wedding, then move to auburn so you can get your degree and i’ll transfer hospitals.”

“you’ll be leaving your ma and pa behind, you’ll leave everything behind.”

“if you go alone, so will you. but you’ll leave me behind, too. this way, if we go together, we won’t miss much.”

and so that’s what you did. that very next morning eugene sent his application to auburn university before setting out into town with his father to find you the perfect ring. that day he bought two; an engagement ring and a wedding ring. back at home, you had invited eugene’s mother to begin the wedding planning, knowing you wouldn’t have long before eugene’s first term would begin.

that might, your mother held a celebration dinner and invited eugene’s family. she enjoyed hosting everyone, addressing the meal as the beginning of your lives together. at the end of the night, eugene proposed to you on your front porch. as he got down on his knee and presented to ring to you, you couldn’t help but cry. you knew this was happening, but this made it real.

eugene here with you and with a ring made it real.

exaclty three weeks later you were married. it was a small ceremony at the local church with the celebration and reception at the town hall later that day. all the people who you loved and cared for were there, congratulating you both on the marriage and the next stage of your life; moving.

exactly one week after that, you and eugene had moved north to auburn, settling down in your new one bedroom apartment with the help of your parents. only days later, it was eugene’s first day of term and your first day as an associate nurse at the hospital.

and that’s how your life planned out for the next three years. both of you enjoyed married life while navigating through university and your new job. you spent your weekdays busy and your weekends free, doing housework before spending time together, married and free.

living with eugene felt right. it felt free and exactly where you needed to be. had you told yourself three years ago that this would be your life, you would have laughed and not believed it. for you, this was a dream. you had a husband, a job, a house and a happy life. the only thing that was missing was a baby.

eugene graduated auburn university with a bachelor of science degree in business administration in the summer of 1949 which was when you decided to move back home to mobile.

once again, both of your parents came to help you, filling their cars and a moving truck with your furniture before driving back to mobile. it felt good to be home and you were lucky enough to find a home just outside of the main town, the perfect size for you, eugene and your family.

your own little family.

once the celebration of your return had finished, you and eugene returned to your new home, both full of love and happiness. that night, you bathed together, eugene’s back against the tub as you rested against his chest, your hands never leaving your stomach.

after you were dry and dressed for bed, eugene got into bed first, sitting up against the bed head as he watched you nervously brushing your hair. he caught a glimpse of you in your mirror, watching as your face was tense.

“love, what’s wrong?” he asked, worry laced in his voice. you didn’t reply, only standing up from the vanity’s chair and walking over to your side of the bed. opening the bottom draw, you delved down to the bottom to find what you wanted.

“love, what are you lookin’ for? what’s-” eugene didn’t even finish his sentence as he saw you stand with a something in your hand. “is that?”

you only nodded and watched as eugene extended his hand towards you, taking whatever was in your hand into his.

“is it- it’s real?” you nodded, moving to sit on the bed next to eugene as he kept looking at the pregnancy test. “we’re having a baby?”

“we’re having a baby.”

those nine months passed quicker than you ever could have thought. from the moment you told eugene, you felt in a constant state of bliss, even through the pregnancy hormones and cravings. both of your parents were joyous, over the moon with the idea of having a grandchild on the way.

your mother and mother-in-law helped you to prepare physically and mentally as much as you could, even though you knew that there was no amount of preparation that would help towards giving birth. you and eugene decorated the smallest room in the house and deemed it the nursery. his father and yours helped to build the furniture and had agreed between them that they would buy you certain things. 

your parents bought you the most beautiful rocking chair. it was plain oak, but it had the most beautiful carvings on the headrest and arms. in addition, behind the headrest, your family name sledge was engraved in beautiful italic. you balled your eyes out as soon as they brought it to the house, blaming it on the hormones, but you knew that you were eternally grateful for the chair. 

eugene’s parents bought you your baby’s crib. like the chair, it was oak and had beautiful carvings on either side, with the family name engraved in the same italics at the top of the crib where baby’s head would lay. the two pieces of furniture brought the room together and two months before they were due, the worm was complete and everything felt whole.

the baby came at 40 weeks and three days. at the beginning, labour was slow. your water broke and you managed to get to the hospital a short while after.

eugene was panicking, grabbing the hospital bag and throwing it into the car before you had even left the house. as he did, you called both of your parents, letting them know what was happening. after that, you almost waddled out the door, reaching your hand forward which eugene grabbed and helped you into the car. his exterior was calm as he drove, but you knew what was running around in his head.

once you got to the hospital, you tried to calm eugene down, letting him know that you were okay and the contractions weren’t that bad, yet. a nurse led you to a room, letting you know what a doctor and midwife would be there soon.

after that, things were a blur. you only remember the midwife and doctor coming into your room and talking, things after that were fuzzy. you remember the pain, squeezing eugene’s hand so much that you both thought that it would fall off and then the first cries of your baby.

“it’s a girl.” the midwife spoke, but you were almost about to pass out. eugene kept you awake, wanting you to hold your daughter as soon as you could. and when the midwife handed you your baby, that’s when you knew you were exactly where you wanted to be, where you needed to be. your daughter in your arms with eugene right beside you.

“what’s her name?” the midwife asked, walking to stand beside you, a clipboard in her hands.

“rose,” you replied, looking up from your daughter to the midwife. “rose marie sledge.” and from then on, you knew that you would be content, no matter what else happened.

mother and father, 

this letter is overdue and eugene and i are terribly sorry for that. inside the envelope should be an invitation to our little angel’s christening. all the information about it: the date, the venue, will be on there. we know that you’ll be there, but we wanted you and eugene’s parents to be the first to receive an invite and to read our letter to you. 

since the war, its been a long few years, but after the wedding three years ago and now the arrival of baby rose, this event could not be postponed any longer. rose has only been with us five months, but she is already the light of our lives, as i know she is yours, too. thank you for everything you have given to myself and eugene since the day you met him and thank you for everything you have given to rose. 

this day cannot come any sooner and we hope that you are as excited as we are. thank you for rose’s beautiful christening dress (and thank you for mine). we cannot wait to celebrate the beginning and the rest of our daughter’s life with you. 

love, the sledges x

-

dedicated to @warriorteam1924​​ 🤍

-

TAGLIST: @never-kept-the-same-address @j0hn-deaky @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @leatherjacketmazzello @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous​ @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic​ @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan​ @spacedustmazzello​ @deakysgurl @forever-rogue​ @xcdelilahxc @keepsdrawing​ @igotsuckedintothevoid @kill4hqueen @supersonicfreddie​ @laedymoon​ @inthedayswhenlandswerefew​ @warriorteam1924 @painandpleasure86​ @boomerangbassist @mamaskillerqueen​

[amazingdriverfics]

Crowned by the devil - ch.2

Summary: Training week starts, someone makes your past come back to life

Warnings: language, past child abuse, violence

Previous Chapter  Following Chapter

The rest of your cycle went pretty well, contradicting what you had imagined when you connected the dots and figured out that you were kidnaped. The reason for your happiness was the bath you had in that enormous bathtub in your room, it took you a couple of minutes to understand how to work with all of those buttons, but when you finally got the perfect water temperature and scent of bath bomb, you let your body sink into the water, allowing the stress and all the fear you had felt wash away. For a couple of minutes you forgot about your past, that you were there fighting to be the devil’s wife and the only sensation coursing through you was peace. Of course, eventually, the water became cold, even though you were pretty used to cold water since it was all that you had cleaned yourself with during your life, you got out of the tub and put on the comfiest clothes you found in the wardrobe. Finally, you left your quarters to go into the common room and have dinner, you hadn’t noticed that you were starving until that very moment. Entering the room you could see a gorgeous woman with dark skin and long, voluminous black hair, still dressed on the what you were previously using, eating in the sofa, the sight immediately made your stomach come to life making all kind of embarrassing sounds.

Her head turned to you quickly and your eyes met her brown eyes in a second. You didn’t really care of what any of the girls thought of you, you knew that you didn’t belong in there, you knew your place, but you also knew what you were capable of, you might not be a “lady”, but that didn’t make you any less than them. Surprising you, she gave you a sweet smile while pointing with her head to a tray of food. Something in her made a shy smile appear on your face while you walked to get your dinner. You weren’t going to eat there but you decided to introduce yourself.

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m y/n” you said in a whisper while you walked to your quarters, before your body completely entered it you hear her gentle voice “Aduke Aba”.

Just like ordered by your new boss at 0800 hours you were standing in front of the door that connected your quarters to the common room. While you waited, you decided to take a look around, Aduke was once again sitting on a couch, but this time with the clothes you were all forced to wear during training, a black tank top, with your name printed on it, and leggings with some leather combat boots. The other four girls were spreaded across the room, you could see a tall blonde girl with the greenest eyes you had ever seen talking to a shorter one with brown hair that even in a ponytail still made contact with her ass, looking at their tank tops you found out that their names were Antje and Heide respectively. Before you could continue your scan through the room, the General and the Knights of Ren entered, their sinister energy making every body hair you got stand. Straightening your posture, you watched the six large and tall man make their way to the center of the room standing right behind Hux. His voice, monotonous as ever, filled your ears.

“Great to see that you know how to be on time. In this cycle, you will get to know the Steadfast’s training center, where you will train with you designed knight. Please, follow me”. Without waiting for any kind of reply or acknowledgment from any of you, the red haired man walked passed the six knights and made his way out of the room, soon being followed by the sextet. Quickly, you started to walk, not looking forward to get on the General’s bad side. The ship looked the same everywhere, the hallways were a dark grey color with black floors and they all had an equal light pattern. You couldn’t distinguish any of those halls, you were completely lost. After walking for a couple of minutes the General and the masked men following him finally stopped in, yet another, grey room, this one had it’s differences however. It’s walls were covered in all kind of training weapons, the floor was covered in some kind of mat to soften falls. If you had thought that the common room was big, the training center was a monster, you could fit hundreds of your Tatooine’s home in there. Your thoughts were interrupted once again by Hux. 

“This is the training center the Supreme Leader has spared for your training for the next two weeks. Just like in this cycle, in the following ones we will meet in the common room and walk here, you will have a lunch break at 1200 hours and the training sessions will end at 1600 hours, when they are done you will be escorted back to the room and then you may all engage in whatever activity you find suitable. Are we clear?”. From the absence of sound in the room, you figured that just like you the others answered with a nod. Satisfied, the General made his way out of the center wishing us a nice cycle. 

Uncertain of what to do next, you kept yourself at the place you had initially stopped waiting for further instruction. It wasn’t long before one of the masked figures came near you causing you to instinctively take a step back, the scene apparently amused the man since a quick distorced laugh left his mask. “I’m Cardo, I’ll be the one training you. Let’s not waste time, shall we?” he said turning his back to you and making his way to the left corner of the room, where he stopped and faced you. Not wanting to make a fool of yourself, you quickly followed his lead. “We will train hand-to-hand combat, since from what I read in your file you are very good at it” he stated taking his mask off and carefully placing it on the floor, when he turned his face to you again, you almost forgot the questions running through your mind when he had told that there was a file about you. The fact that he was a humanoid shocked you, seeing his big and strong figure made you think he was a monster, now seeing his blue eyes staring at you, confusion invaded your brain. “Your thoughts are really loud” he said with a smirk. If you were the blushing type you would be totally red by now, but keeping your cold faced you just whispered “Whatever” and started to prepare yourself for the training. 

                                                       ---------

Stars, he was a tough opponent, nothing like you had ever faced before. He was like a kriffing mountain, nothing that you had done made him even flinch, his feets stayed on the same spot no matter what, and you had tried a lot. After two hours of this humiliating session, anger was burning on your insides and you started to perform low tricks, you had aimed for his crotch a couple of times and tried to hit his face as well, yet again, continuing to fail. Your body was sore from the amount of times he had thrown you on the mat, he hadn’t even attacked you, all Cardo had done was defend himself. The mocking smile in his face angered you even more and you were about to burst. 

“Fucking hell, when I finally find a way to hit you I’m gonna kick your fucking ass” you screamed, forgetting that you two weren’t the only ones in the room. Your statement made Cardo laugh so hard that you could see tears starting to appear on his eyes. That was it, you were going to kill him. Taking advantage of his distraction you charged on him, hate filling you up with strength as you kicked him very hard on the crotch. Instantly, he fell in the mat as a sensation of victory filled you up. Cardo’s hand was holding his sore balls and you had finally knocked him down. “Great w-work, y/n. Y-you should use your anger more often” the man said through gritted teeth making you smile. You tried to help him get up, but he didn’t allow you to. The two of you continued in a lighter training this time, Cardo started to teach you positions to pin your enemy to the ground, even if he was bigger and stronger than you. Time went super fast after that, lunch time had came and a droid delivered your food. While you enjoyed the meal, you sat with the knight and talked a little bit about the First Order. He explained his and his brothers - as he called the other knights - function in the organization. By the end of lunch you started to think of Cardo as a decent person. The remaining training went quickly and before you realized you were back at your quarters. After a quick shower and devouring your dinner you were in your soft bed resting your sore body. 

The rest of your cycles went smoothly, Cardo still triggered anger in you, but now you realized his motives, he had told you that anger was a synonym for power, it was going to make you stronger. It was true, when you bursted on him you were finally able to hit him, and even though he disguised it you could see that he was satisfied with your progress. The two of you would talk during breaks and the knight told you more about where you were, what was expected of you in the following weeks and sometimes he would even tell you about missions that he had went with his brothers. You enjoyed your time with him, even though you would deny it to anyone who asked. You were also closer to Aduke, she was everything that you weren’t, she was sweet, she devoted her life to saving others as a field doctor and she smile too often. You had decided that you wouldn’t kill any of the girls if not provoked, you didn’t want to marry Kylo Ren and you refused to entertain his sadistic ass. 

Your routine was suddenly changed by the blond girl named Antje. It was your seventh training cycle, and all of the “contestants” were reunited in a circle in the common room eating dinner, you weren’t going to participate, but Aduke had begged you to, and so there you were. You didn’t really engage in any conversation, you just kept your mouth filled with food and your eyes fixated on the floor. You had noticed that Antje wasn’t fond of you for a while, sometimes she would throw you nasty looks and shortly after give you a fake smile pretending that she had never given you any of em’. When she talked to you it should have rang a bell in your head telling you that something was wrong, but you were too tired to care. 

“So, y/n, where did you get all of your tattoos? They are really pretty, but I would never do it to myself, you know?”, you gave a small answer as you got up having enough of the interaction “I got them back on Tatooine, and I guess it’s a good thing that they mark my body not yours”, as you turned your back you hadn’t realized that your pants had fallen a little bit, letting your most hated scar show. It all happened too fast, you heard her voice mocking you “Stars, what is that on your back? A “K”, what are you? Obsessed with Kylo? Or are you his pet?”.

                                                        ---------

You had just finished cleaning Kreat’s house, his dinner was already at the set table and you were waiting for him to get home before you could get back to the basement and eat your tiny meal. Like any other day in the 15 years you had lived there, you watched the bald mid-sized man enter through the front door. Immediately, fear kept you still, your legs were still hurting from his last punishment and you didn’t want to upset him. Slowly, his blue eyes bored into yours, a smile painting his face. “Angel, you had no idea of the surprise I have for you tonight”. If you were scared before, now you were terrified, you didn’t expect anything good from him.

Skipping dinner, he guided you to the basement holding your hand, he lighted the fireplace and took a metal thing out of his coat, in the very end of it there was a metallic K. “You see, Angel. I have great plans for your future, you are going to gain us a lot of money” he said. “More than I do at the bar?” you asked - you had been dancing in a Hutt’s bar for money for two years now, since puberty hit you and your body started to develop, Kreat forced you to dance every weekend -. “Yes, angel. But I have to make sure that everyone knows that you are mine, you know?”, you nodded watching as he placed the K on the fire. “What I’m about to do it’s going to hurt just a tiny bit, but you’ll manage, ok angel?” once again you nodded. He instructed you to take your clothes and stand in front of him only with your underwear. Once you were done obeying his command, he took the metal off the fire, the ‘K’ once grey was now a vivid orange. Before you could even process what was happening he gripped you tight, forcing you to stay still, got on his knees and pressed the burning iron on your lower back. The pain that hit you was excruciating, you had genuinely thought you were going to die, but you weren’t so lucky. The scream that escaped your mouth was so loud that it had been heard from miles. Not being able to handle the pain, your brain shut down and it wasn’t long before everything went black. 

                                                    ---------

Before you knew it, you were on top of her, your legs keeping her in place as you pressed your hands to her throat, rage blinding you. You were never able to finish her, soon a stormtrooper was carrying you away from there. After that, everything happened so fast that you hadn’t thought about what you had done until you were standing in front of a very angry General Hux at his office. 

“Are you completely out of your mind? I knew that you were a savage, a damn animal, but this was way beyond my expectations. You are going to pay for what you did today, if it was up to me, you would pay with your life -” his barks were suddenly stopped by a deep voice. “That will be all, General. Leave us”.

“But, Supreme Leader” the red haired men guttered. “Remember your place, Hux, or I’ll do it myself” the man standing behind you spoke once again, causing the General to leave the room. When you turned to him you were surprised by what you saw, instead of the mask that you had seen back in Tatooine, your eyes met a handsome man, his eyes were brown, his dark hair at shoulder length framed his perfect face, he had a prominent beautiful nose, plushy red lips and freckles painting his white skin, but what really caught your attention was the thin scar running down the side of his face. His voice stopped your staring session. “What happened?”. Immediately, images from the incident went through your mind, you didn’t really regret what you had done, but you weren’t exactly yourself while doing it, it was like rage had possessed you. “I see” he stated, reminding you that he could see inside of your brain. “Let me see the scar”, you shook your head, noticing that your hand hadn’t stopped covering the insignia ever since you got to Hux’s office. His deep voice met your ears once again “Please”, your eyes met his and you saw a spark of vulnerability. Before you could stop yourself you turned your back to him letting the hand covering it fall to the sides of your body. 

Soon, his figured got near you making you shiver, your eyes were already glossy, he would be the third person to touch it despite you, and you didn’t really know why you were letting him do it. Then, you felt his fingers running through it, following the ‘K’ shape with a soft touch and you melt, the tears were finally running down your face. Taking his hand away from your scar, he turned you around gingerly, looking right into your eyes. “I’ll take care of this. Go back to your quarters”.

[argylemikewheeler]

|| i saw this post and just had the idea of will freaking out at mike for being tall-- but of course that’s not really what it’s about. just something short and sweet (literally) for you || ao3

It’s in the grocery store that Will just snaps at him. Will’s going shopping for his mom after school. It’s no big thing; Will enjoys the time alone. Except of course, it’s the last day before spring break and Mike’s skipped the last day of school and driven up to see him. Mike’s an extra set of hands to help brings bags into the house, and he’s not too bad of a driver to man the cart.

When Mike pulls up to the house-- just as Will’s grabbing his bag and getting to Jonathan’s car-- he looks so different. His hair is just a little shorter-- cropped and kept, just how Ted likes it, but with Karen’s kind influence of letting him be, Ted, come on. The main thing, at least to Will, is that he’s taller. The man is taller. Will feels his neck crack as he tilts back, just a little. He didn’t shrink, but when Mike runs up to him, he swears he did.

When Will is silent and stares at him for a while, Mike replies that he’s six-foot-two. Which is fine. It’s fine. It’s just that Will is five-foot-six still. But whatever. It’s fine.

Will kind of forgets about it-- forgets about how his new friends call him small. not short but small; how his new doctor is worried he’s stunted from all his “medical trauma” and is trying to talk his mother into having him take steroids; how he secretly likes being the same height because he knows his mom can’t afford buying both him and El new clothes; how he hates that the first thing people notice between him and Mike isn’t even that they’re two men since Will’s short enough to match people’s perception of what “normal” couples look like. Will just forgets about it. And for a while it’s nice.

Mike doesn’t know jack shit about vegetables and Will teaches him how to pick fruit that is just the right amount of unripe so it will last longer in the fridge. Mike pushes the cart and nods, at least pretending he’s enjoying the lesson. It’s 1988 and Mike places his hand on Will’s back when he stands and stares at the wall of soup cans, trying to read prices and brands quickly. It’s 1988 and Will doesn’t even watch how he says “Michael”. It’s a nice outing until they get to the cereal aisle.

It is nearly cleaned out, all the extra boxes up on the top shelf in disorganized storage stacks. Will groans and steps up onto the bottom shelf, his hand straining as he feels around for a box of something. His ribs are pressed to the middle shelf and he tries to keep from swearing. There’s an older lady with two young kids that’s been watching them since they arrived in the aisle-- Mike’s hand gently finding Will’s-- and Will doesn’t want to give her any ammunition to start shouting.

“Would you like some help, Will?” Mike laughs and grabs him under the arms. He hoists Will nearly like he’s weightless, helping him step down to the floor again.

Will sighs. “Yes.”

“What do you want?” Before Will can answer, Mike is sliding box after box down and placing them on the shelves in front of Will’s eye line. “I’ve got ‘em all.”

“I just needed the Cheerios, thanks.” Will grumbles, taking the box and tossing it into the cart. He pushes the cart and they leave the woman’s stare. He feels tense all over again. He forgets to keep forgetting about it-- about everything-- for a moment.

“How do you do this without me.” Mike is simply trying to tease him-- be verbally affectionate when his hands can only jostle his shoulders. “I need to think about moving up here you don’t have to struggle every time you just want to buy something--”

“Shut up, Mike.”

“W--What? What did I say? Was it that you’re short? Because... Will, we know this. It’s my favorite thing about you, you know that.”

“I don’t really want to hear it right now.” Will isn’t aware he’s clenching his teeth until he hears himself speak. “Being small is kind of not my favorite.”

“Oh, but-- It’s fun! You fit right under my arm and you don’t really need to steal as much of the blankets when we sleep--”

“Mike.” Will tries to drop out from under Mike’s arm: he placed it around his shoulders to demonstrate his point. Will is suddenly very aware that they’re two men, even if from every other angle no one seems to notice because he’s... a full eight inches shorter than Mike. It doesn’t feel great to be able to excuse homophobia because he’s as short as a girl. “Mike, please shut up.”

“What?” He’s sincere, but he’s still very confused. He still thinks it’s about being short. He doesn’t move his arm. “OH, well, actually I do hate the whole you-get-to-steal-my-clothes-thing. But if those are the reparations--”

“Would you just shut up, Tall Boy!” Will snaps, twisting around to face Mike. They’re in the middle of the baby section, where no one would be likely to stumble into them.

“T-Tall Boy?” Mike laughs, but he’s still trying to figure out that Will’s genuinely upset. “I-- What? What happened? Did I say something?”

“Yes! Stop talking about how short I am. I hate it.” Will doesn’t know why but he chokes up a little. He pretends he needs to be looking at plastic sippy cups. They look so out of place when the older lady and her children come strolling past. “I hate remembering I’m short.”

“Remembering.” Mike repeats. “Do you... forget?”

“El grew four inches in like... two months.”

“Okay...”

“Mom had to buy her new skirts and jeans because they got too short, too fast. It was the middle of winter and her ankles were so chapped-- She worked another two shift to pay for it.” Will’s breathing is choppy and it’s so stupid. Mike is silent, but because he’s listening, which is still weird for Will to think about.

“Okay. So short is good. You’ve got all your clothes and you’ve got all mine if you need it. And I’m sure Steve’s got more stuff that’s up your alley. It’s okay. Will, it’s okay. I won’t let you go cold.” Mike places his hands on Will’s shoulders, his thumbs brush against his neck.

“They say I’m small at school.” Will pushes through. “Small. You know what else is small? Babies are small. Mistakes are small. OH and you know what is usually small? Girls. Girls are small-- except my sister. Who’s giant--”

“She’s only like... five-nine.”

“Mike.”

“Sorry, literal perspective I see is not the point here.” He nods. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just-- People don’t think you’re gay sometimes.” Will realizes this doesn’t make sense to anyone but him.

“Uh. That’s... I’m not sure that’s our fault.”

“Well, see, it’s my fault. From a distance, I look like your girlfriend. Not a very, short short man.”

“Well, that’s not your fault. People are blind and weird and straight. That’s not-- You’re not a girl, Will. You definitely aren’t a girl nor look like one or act like one or-- You just aren’t. Being short is not a fault!”

Will sighs and leans into Mike’s hand. “You’re supposed to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I could complain-- would you like me to?” Mike says with a smile. His eyebrows are still furrowed though: he’s upset. “I hate that you can fit comfortably on any bed we share. I hate that... You sometimes can buy kids’ shirts? Because they’re always cooler. Like, you have one you bought as a painting smock that has a freakin shark on it and I gotta say... Men’s clothes, not as cool! I’m less cool as my art school boyfriend because I got tall too quick. Dude, that sucks. I want to be cool like you!”

Will is definitely crying, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He laughs and smiles. He hopes it makes up for his sniffling. “You think I’m cool?”

“Yeah! My cool, short boyfriend. He’s awesome and he’s super nice because he... worries about the socio-political meaning of him being short. Like. He’s so smart. So smart.”

“He’s the only one who knows what the hell a mango is in your relationship.” Will says, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah! Concentrated intelligence!�� Mike reaches for Will’s underarms again. He catches Will’s smile before jokingly hoisting him an inch off the ground. “He’s better because of-- everything, but right now let’s say it’s because he’s not a six-foot-two monster who hits his head on every door frame in his house.”

“Oh my god-- is that what that bump is from?” Will hiccups, laughter nearly scaring him. “Oh, Michael, you poor.... tall thing.”

They laugh in the baby aisle until Will’s face is less red and puffy. As they walk, Mike makes jokes about the weird names of food brands. He offers to get Will things on all shelves, just being a helpful partner rather than a shopping giraffe. He repeats Will’s name every time he speaks to him and someone is in earshot. Will smiles and each time calls him a sappier and sweeter version of “Michael”. Will finishes shopping and feels rather accomplished as they pack the car up.

He forgets about everything again for a while. Everything but Mike. Well, Mike, but more importantly how he makes him feel: so happy, so listened to, so short. And it’s all okay. It’s nothing. Just one small thing in a short life full of so many wonderful, loving things.

[ladywinterwitch]

The True Beauty

Pairing: Skinny!/Super soldier!* Steve Rogers X Reader 

Summary: Y/N and Steve Rogers have one thing in common: they don’t fit in society because of their looks. One evening they will find in each other the perfect dance partner, falling in love. But what will happen when Steve becomes Captain America and is away from home and surrounded by pretty, skinny, girls? 

Warnings: 40’s society, low self esteem, both Steve and reader have insecurity issues, some innuendos, fluff and more fluff. 

Word Count: 6303

A/n: I know that the ideal woman shape in the mid 40’s was actually with some curves, so when I describe the reader I imagine someone with a few punds more than the average, that’s all. There’s a bit of a POV swich between Steve and the reader. *Y’all will understand that later. Pre-Serum Steve was SO pretty tho.

Bucky and Steve were headed to one of the most popualr ballrooms of Brooklyn, the early evening already chilly and quite dark.

-C'mon punk, it’ll be fun. Let yourself go every once in a while, will ya?- the tall brunette gave the small one a pat on the back, not too harsh, or it would’ve probably hurt his fragile figure.

-It’s easy for you to talk. ‘Mr. James Buchanan Barnes, people call me Bucky but for you I’m darlin’’.- Steve mocked him by raising his chin and deepening his voice.

-Aw c'mon.- he laughed a bit, -If anything, you could learn a thing or two, it always works.- he shrugs and fixes his own tie before stepping inside. He gave a charming smile to the coats lady and just went straight inside the ballroom, not really having anything to drop off. The both of them were wearing simple suits, Bucky a dark blue, and Steve a light brown , same pale gray tie and white shirt.

The jazz live music coming from the playing band on stage filled the large room. There were a lot of lights, but they were soft and not too blinding. The tables and dancefloor filled with joyful people.

Steve followed his best friend in between the crowd towards the drink and buffet table. With a little difficulty they finally reached it and the brunette quickly asked for two glasses of malt liquor. The old man handed each their drink and Steve swallowed a large gulp then grimaced at the burn. Bucky chuckled and took a little sip.

-Easy there, pal. Don’t want your stomach to give in before the end of the night don’t cha?- the small one glared at him but followed without question when he lead him near the seats in which there was a group of girls just giggling and looking around, probably waiting for a partner to dance. There were four, but just as they got closer, three of them were asked to dance, leaving only a girl standing.

Bucky approached her without any problem, the girl, a nice blonde, already smitten for his charming behaviour. He took her hand delicately leading her to the dancefloor. He turned his head for a split second, cocking his head towards the rest of the free girls and mouthing a ’Go’ to his best friend. Steve puffed out a breath and stuffed his skinny hands in his suit’s pockets, looking around uncomfortably. A few girls were at the other end of the room laughing and talking to each other, and another one was lonely in the middle.

Steve let his gaze linger a bit longer on the lonely one, not only because he was certain that the small group would’ve probably laughed at him just for even getting closer, but also because there was something about her posture, her expression that made the man’s heart shrink a bit.

She looked kinda lost and not at ease, just like him. He thought about it for a moment, then mumbled to himself 'the worst that can happen is that she’ll run away’ and started to walk towards her. He didn’t really wanted to dance, but for some reason he felt that the girl could’ve appreciate a little company.

The girl’s head turned to his standing figure, her soft and perfectly styled waves, typical of the time, bouncing slightly. Steve looked down at her and actually realized that he could spot some of her promiment cleavage from where he was standing, her sweetheart neckline not helping. He blushed and forced himself to look her in the eyes, finding out that she was already gazing at him with curious and almost confused eyes. She had beautiful, crystal-like eyes, plump lips and and a cute little nose.

She was actually stunning. Steve recomposed himself quickly and gave her a small nervous smile.

-Is this seat taken?- he pointed at the chair next to hers and she shook her head. He sat down and then there were a few moments of silence. He cleared his throat and took a little courage.

-I’m Steve Rogers.- he blurted out and the girl turned again to him a little surprised, then she stared down at his hand and carefully shook it a couple times.

-Y/n y/l/n.- she responded with a sweet voice imitating him. He smiled sheepishly and nodded slightly.

-Pleasure. Why aren’t you dancing, if-if I may ask..- he started off well but then stumbled a little at the end. Y/n chuckled a little and Steve was now undecided between which was sweeter, her voice or her laugh.

Her reaction made him relax a bit as he waited for her response. Her laugh faded when she answered.

-Well, if I’m being honest, I didn’t even want to come in the first place. My friend practically dragged me, and then abandoned me.- she confessed with a tight smile playing on her lips.

-Oh, you don’t know how much I understand.- he rolled his eyes dramatically and that made her giggle again. He then turned a little on his right and pointed discreetly at Bucky, who was making the pretty girl from before twirl.

-See that punk in the blue suit?- she narrowed her eyes a bit and then nodded.

-With the girl in the yellow dress?- Steve nodded back.

-That’s my pal, Bucky. That’s his fault. But I know he means good.-

-Mmh. Not a lover of clubs either are you?- she asked. Steve shrugged.

-I actually like dancing. I don’t particularly enjoy people though. Sometimes they are…too judgemental.- he responded honestly. He knew that that could make the wrong impression, but at this point he had given up. Also, he kinda felt that she could’ve understood him.

-I agree, sadly.- y/n said with a bit of disappointment. Steve gave her a sympathethic smile.

-

They then decided to drown their bitterness with other bitterness; alchol. They had a few drinks and kept talking about various things, and after about two hours the dizziness was becoming rather obvious.

-Alright, wanna know the real reason I’m not dancing like every other girl in the room?- she whispered, like she wanted to tell a secret. Steve, that was handling the liquor much better, nodded trying to restrain an amused smile. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glossy, but she was just a little light headed, not straight up drunk. Steve would’ve stopped her before in that case.

-No one asked me. It never happened, you know unsless my mother not that subtly forced someoner at some stupid fancy parties. Can’t really blame ‘em, I mean, look at me.- she said moving her hand towards her figure, then gazing away. But the blonde man saw the look in her eyes. He saw the rejection, the shame, the sadness. He knew them all too well, and it made his heart break seeing such a wonderful and beautiful girl saying such things about herself.

Yeah, she had a few extra pounds in comparison to the other girls, and what about it? Steve had known her for the briefest time and was already smitten, if he said so himself. She was funny, sweet, smart, witty and damn beautiful. He decided that she wouln’t have felt like that anymore. So he stood up and offered her his hand. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

-Care for a dance, doll? I know I’m no magazine model, but if you’ll have me..- he left the phrase hanging, not really knowing how to end it. He what? He wouldn’t have blamed her if she said no. She may have had a few extra pounds as a 'flaw’, but she was still beautiful. He, on the other hand, was everything that a man wouln’t want to be; terribly skinny, no muscles, a little shorter than average, skin pale as the moon, ill every few weeks.

She smiled sweetly and took his hand, raising up. Steve’s heart swelled with joy as she followed him on the dancefloor. A slow jazz song began, he put one of his hands on her waist, and the other interwined with one of hers, her other hand on his shoulder.

They locked eyes, and after a while he pressed her a little closer to his chest. He was just about a couple of centimeters taller than her. Perfect.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, surprising the man a little. He grinned and continued to craddle her in his arms. Suddenly he saw his best friend coming inside from the main entrance, without the girl.

His previously perfectly slicked hair had now some strands coming down on the side, his suit’s jacket buttons open and his tie almost unnoticeably loosened.

He seemed to look for something, and apparently that something was Steve, because his eyes stopped on him. At first they widened a bit, then he smiled, a real happy-for-you smile. He nodded his head in approval and Steve looked at him with a tight smile, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky got the memo and shrugged with a fake innocent look on his face, then procedeed towards the drink area. Y/n raised her head to look at him, the sweet lopsided smile still graced her features. The blonde gave her one of his own. They were very close to each other, almost too much.

A few notes after the song ended and a more lively one began. They shared a look and silently agreed that it was time to go home. Steve kept her hand in his as he lead her out of the crowd of dancers.

-Thankyou Steve.- she said suddenly. He stopped in his tracks and smiled fondly at her.

-Thank you, doll. And one thing: you are stunning, alright? You really are. And if those idiots don’t see that, it’s their loss.- she blushed furiously at the compliment, already red from the light dizziness. She looked down, grinning.

Steve realized that he was staring at her, and shook his head slightly getting his mind out o fthe gutter. Bucky watching everything form afar, a smirk hidden behind the glass of liquor. The blonde saw him and started walking towards him.

-C'mon, I want you to meet someone.- her hand still in his.

-Y/n, this is my pal, James Barnes. Bucky, she’s y/n y/l/n.- he introduced the two of you. Bucky put down the glass and offered his hand, she took it.

-It’s a pleasure Y/n. Please, call me Bucky. It’s nice to see that this punk finally decided to ask a pretty girl for a dance.- he joked winking. Steve huffed shaking his head.

-Pleasure’s all mine, Bucky. And yeah, well, let’s say they we saved each other’s evening.- she gave his dance partner a side glance and a smart smile, making his heart flutter.

-That’s nice to hear.- the brunette nodded with honest happiness in his eyes. They already liked each other.

-

Steve and Bucky ended up walking Y/n home, together simply because they were headed in the same direction. They made small talk on the way, her arm under Steve’s.

When they reched her home Bucky said his goodnights and stayed a few feet away from the two as they were saluting each other.

-This is me.- she said stepping in front of the door, keys in hand. Steve had his hands in his pockets, not really sure on what to do now.

-Thank you again for the amazing night, hope I didn’t did too bad on the dancefloor.- she chuckled.

-You weren’t bad at all. And thank you, for everything.- Y/n said a bit more serious, and he didn’t have to ask what was she referring to, so he just smiled a little.

She bit the inside of the cheek and then leaned closer to press a sweet kiss on Steve’s cheek. He didn’t quite expect it so his eyes widened a little making her giggle while she opened the door.

-Goodnight Steve, don’t forget to call.-

-I won’t, doll.- she closed the door. -I definetely won’t.-

-

And that’s what happened. He called her just the day after, asking her is she wanted to go for a walk. Then on the following two weeks the calls became more frequent, like the dates. They would go out for a walk, for a picnic, dancing with Bucky and the random girl of the night, at lunch and brunch.

Until the war exploded and men were called at the front. Steve had tried countless times to get himself in, but he was always denied because of his heath problems and his fragile structure. That made him upset, but made Y/n grateful, because she was already so in love that she couln’t bare the thought of him going away or getting hurt. They would have little fights, but then they would always make up right after, usually followed by a very heated make out session. They haven’t took the sex step yet, Steve wanted to wait for a possible wedding and in all honesty Y/n still had her insicurities to face.

Then a month later Bucky got shipped and Steve’s mood got worse. They would spend more time together, often she would stay at his place even for a few days, a little lie she told her parents that believed her on vacation with some friend of hers. They alredy knew Steve, his father went to school with his mother Sarah, and were really sad to hear of her passing a few years prior. They often invited him to dinner, and for Y/n that was already a good sign, but she honestly didn’t know if they could’ve ignore the fact that he wasn’t wealthy. In any case she was sure that she would’ve married him, parents blessing or not.

Then one day the impossible happened. Steve had been accepted for training in the army. He would’ve been in New York still, but she knew that that was just the first part. Sooner or later they woul’ve shipped him too. He was at the camp every day, so they couldn’t see each other anymore. But he would call every chance they could.

Not even a month later he told her that he volounteered for a new serum that needed human testing, he didn’t knew anything, but he trusted said dr. Erskine. She got mad, really, really mad. He called him crazy, naive and reckless. He din’t got angry at her, he couln’t. Also, he knew that her anger derived from worry about his wellbeing. So he just said to her to not worry too much and that he loved her.

She cried and cried and broke a quite expensive vase for the frustration. Her parents weren’t happy about that, but she couldn’t care less.

She didn’t know about Hydra, the super soldier project and why Erskine choosed him. But she woul’ve understood soon.

-

Steve was confused, angry and sad. But he also felt better than ever. His eyesight and hearing were almost inhumanly perfect, he was much taller, he didn’t have troubles running, his reflexes were amazing, breathing normally. He was built like a wardrobe, his arms, legs, shoulders and back as well as the rest of his body was toned. His face more structured. It had been extremely painful, but worth it. Or was it? The doubt crossed his mind after the murder of dr.Erskine. The one who believed in him and choose him for the most important task in the world.

After the eventful morning and all the blood samples that he had to give, he just wanted one thing: you. He needed to see you, to be held in your arms, your sweet reassuring. Almost two months have gone without seeing you by now. In that moment more than a desire it had become a necessity.

So he went to Peggy directly and said that he wanted to see you, she miracolously agreed and went to go pick you up herself, not trusting anyone after what happened with Erskine. The only condition to which she agreed to to it was that Steve assured her that you would’ve kept the informations to yourself, and that he would give you just the bare minimum of them.

He got changed in military light brown pants and jacket that he left open, a White tee under and his dog tags around his neck.

He waited for about half an hour, walking back and forth in the small room that they had assigned him. It was pretty blank, just a queen sized bed, a dark wood wardrobe and a full lenght mirror. A small door leading to an equally small bathroom.Then a knock on his door made him turn his head quickly.

-Come in.- the door opened and Peggy stepped aside, but still remained at the door’s entrance.

-Go on, dear.- she talked sweetly to someone. And that someone was y/n. She walked timidly forward, giving a small nod to the brunette. The agent just smiled and walked away. Then she finally looked up. Her eyes went wide, plump mouth slighty ajar and her little purse fell from her hand.

-S-steve?- she said breathless, one hand placed on her upper stomach, in shock.

Steve had on his face a look that resembled the one of a sad puppy’s, even though he definitely was bigger. He took a few steps towards her, but when he reached out to touch her hand she instinctively stepped back. The door still open. Steve swallowed the hurt that it caused and talked to her carefully.

-Y/n, doll, please….Come in, take a sit. I promise I can explain.- he said with a pleading tone. She was still shocked, but did as she was told, sitting on the bed, straight and stiff. Steve went to her, squatting, their eyes locked for the first time.

-I know that it seems impossible, it’s a shock. Hell, even I haven’t adjusted yet. Mainly because it was just this morning, but.- he sighed. Her brows slightly furrowed, her gaze interested. Steve was just starting to talk again, but she raised her hand to reach his face, caressing with her fingertips his temple, cheekbone, cheek, jaw. Then she brushed her thumb over his full lips and he closed his eyes in relief.

-It’s really you.- she whispered. He smiled, a little moved, and nodded. She sighed loudly and wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his around her thick waist and they hugged for a while. The super soldier could feel her quiet sobs, while he stroked her back reassuringly. After a few minutes she parted from him, sniffling a bit, reching for her purse.

-Now you’re gonna explain how in lord’s name this happened in two days.-

-

Steve explained everything about the serum, Howard Stark, the super soldier project. He even didn’t go too much into details and avoided talking baout Hydra. She listened to him intently the whole time, their hands interwined. At some point he got overwhelmed thinking about Erskine and she held his head to her chest. They remained like that for a while, just holding each other and cuddling.

-You know what, I loved you before, but now you’re definetly a very much more comfortable pillow.- she smirked looking up at him. He chuckled, glad that they were back as they were and that now he wouln’t have to face everything alone.

She rose up from the bed, going in front of the full lenght mirror, adjusting the crinkles in her suit jacket and matching pencil skirt, both a deep crimson. Steve stared at her while she was fixing her make up, a little smeared from crying and kissing, and her curles. Suddenly she stopped, locking eyes with him trough the mirror and smirking.

-Enjoying the view?- he got up from the bed and walked to her, his hands resting on your hips, pressing himself to her back.

-Always. And by the record, that skirt does really compliment your ass.- their eyes still on each other’s thanks to the reflection. She dropped her gaze, a small blush forming on her cheeks.

They suddenly found themselves looking at their reflection. It was more proportioned now. Before, he was just a few centimetres taller, now her head barely reached his shoulder. His big and strong arms wrapped her figure completely.

-If anything, now I’m more appropriate for you.- he smiled, trying to hide his sadness. She remained serious, turning to cup his face.

-Look at me, Steve. You’ve changed, it’s true. You’re better now because you don’t have any more health issues, and all the other pretty advantages. But that’s just it.You were perfect just they way you were before. For me, you’ll always be. All sizes, heights, mucles or not. Got it?- he looked at you with love, a small smile playing on his lips.

-Yes ma'am.- she gave in and smiled on her own.

-Good, now shut up and kiss me.- but as soon as their lips touched, a knock interrupted them. A sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he gave permission to come in. Colonel Chester Phillips appeared at the doorstep.

-Sorry to interrupt your…reunion. But we need mr. Rogers to discuss a few things. Ma'am.- the super soldier delicately released his grip from her waist and did the military salute.

-I’ll be right there, colonel, sir.- the man nodded at Y/n and left them alone.

-That’s the colonel of my unit, Phillips. I’m sorry I have to go.- he apologized sadly. She shook her head and gave him a kiss.

-It’s your duty. Go, I’m sure I’ll get info on what to do from agent Carter.-

They stepped out together and saw that, in fact, Peggy was already wainting for her. They shared one last gaze and then parted directions.

Peggy accompanied her on the way home, along with a driver, and explained to her that all the informations Steve gave her musn’t be shared. She promised her that it’s not her intention to share anything, and asked when will she be able to see Steve again.

Peggy responded that she was free to call whenever she wanted, but that for a couple days they would’ve been busy organizing some things. She dropped her off saying goodbye.

-

She kept calling for five days, and not a single time you talked to Steve. They always told you that he was busy, or that he had a conference, he was training, or something else. Apparently everything was more important than you.

Then, on a Friday, the announcement. The president of the United States presented the new national hero, a real soldier: Captain America. You saw the entire speech at one of Brooklyn’s local theaters. There was Steve, on an almost too decorated stage, ridiculus tights on , his torso covered with red and white stripes, a big white star on his chest in blue background, red boots and gloves and a blue hood with an A at the front.

He was holding a strangely shaped shield that looked pretty cheap and ugly. But the ugliest thing of them all? The way that the presenter introduced him and told him to say obvious fake catchphrases. The poor man was embarassed and didn’t really knew how to act, even if he had been instructed specifically on his script before the beggining of the parade.

She could read it in his body language and voice, his face half covered by the awful hood. She felt sorry for him, but also kinda angry. That buffoonery was the reason he didn’t have time to talk to her? To get misurements, get awfully fake props and to get ready a painfully awkward script? Apparently yes.

But the public seemed to be hyped up by his new figure, especially when a national tour announced. Then the president stepped aside and a group of twenty or so girls, all strictly skinny and beautiful, dressed with a very revealing dress and mini skirt that resembled the captain’s colours, began to sing. The star spangled man with a plan, they sang. And all that Steve had to do was walk, do a military salute, punch an Hilter stunt and look pretty.

Th exhibition ended and two girls wrapped an arm around Steve’s torso, each kissing his cheek and grinning like that was the best day of their life. He was smiling too.

She couln’t bear it anymore and ran out of the room, the sunlight blinding her a bit in contrast with the theare’s dark room, her tears of disappointment, anger and shame spilling uncontrollably from her eyes.

-

Steve finally finished his third show of the day, and literally ran to his changing room. He locked himself in, begging for a little privacy. On the last week so many people had been surrounding him, he couln’t take it anymore. And the only one that he actually wanted to see, didn’t even call him.

He thought for a second and then decided to change into normal chlothes and quickly leave a note, saying that he needed some time for himself. After putting on a hat, low on his face, he exited the room and walked nonchalantly towards the theatre emergency exit. Then took a cab and told the driver y/n’s address.

The cab left him right in front of the house. He stepped out and went to ring at the door. It opened, revealing Y/n’s father. Oh, just perfect, he thought.

-Yes?- he said with a stern tone.

-I’m Steven Rogers, I’d like to talk with your daughter, please.- he decided to tell the truth and the man’s eyes almost got out of his head.

-Steven? What the hell happened to you?- he laughed giving him a pat on the back, inviting him to come in. -The army really does miracles! Wait, I’ll get her for ya.- he kept on talking, then stepping up the staircase.

A few minutes later y/n’d dad came back down. Steve, which had been sitting on the couch, stood up quickly.

-I’m sorry, son, my daughter doesn’t want to see you.- Steve was dumbfounded. He didn’t understand..

-Why?- he asked without thinking.

-Didn’t tell. But let’s not lie to each other, Steven, it had to happen sooner or later. Best luck for the army, get our country proud mh?- he lead him to to door and gave him another annoying pat on the back. Before Steve could ask what did he mean by ‘it had to happen’, the door was slammed behind him. He genuinely thought that her parents liked him. 

In any case that was the last of his worries. What he really needed and wanted to know was why his girlfriend, his best girl, his y/n didn’t want to see him. 

He walked away from the porch and thught quickly, deciding in the end to climb up her window, which wasn’t that high, and had an iron ladder next to it for the roof.

He looked around and nonchalantly started to go up, and when he reached it, he knocked twice. A very confused y/n pulled the white lace curtain aside. 

When she saw his face she almost got a heart attack. Her mouth opened and her brows furruwed in outraged expression. Steve really tried to not think that that was cute but he couldn’t. She snapped the handle and the window opened inside her tastefully decorated room. 

-What in God’s name are you doing?!- she whisper yelled. Steve smirked.

-Hi doll.- she rolled her eyes -Go away Steve.- and was about to close the window door, but he stopped her.

-Wait, why? Your dad said that you didn’t want to see me. And also that were would’ve been over sooner or later or something like that. Are we broken up and I didn’t knew that?- he asked confused. She waited for a moment, then sighed.

-Come in. And lower your voice.- your voice firm, efficient. Steve began to feel less at ease. He entered the room, then closing the window behind him. 

-What’s happening y/n?- he asked again, softly. She had her arms crossed under her breasts, a night gown on. The transparence and the way that her gesture pushed up her chest was getting him quite distracted. Her hair loose and just soft waves present instead of the perfectly styled curls. It was actually pretty late in the evening, in about two hours it would’ve been bed time.

-Why don’t you tell me, uh? Also,nice of you to show up. After a whole damn week.- she said coldly. He furrowed.

-I haven’t had much time, I- a bitter laugh interrupted him.

-Oh, I saw. Captain America huh? The new national hero, who’ll go on tour around the world, and has every girl at his mercy.- she was looking directly at him, her expression a mixture of disappointment and irony. -You had the time to do all that stuff, and not even a minute, in a whole week to call or even respond for all that’s worth… I don’t know Steve, what am I? Certainly not your girlfriend.- you stopped talking whenyou felt your throat starting to sting. 

-First of all, I didn’t choose it, alright? I wanted to go serve my damn country, that’s all I wanted, for God’s sake! I saw the faces of the people. They were happy, excited. If I can help with that, the propaganda, or even in the slightest, I’ll do it. They choose me, they gave me a job and I’m not going to abandon them.- he responded firmly. He saw hurt in her eyes and he felt guilty. His own gaze softened a bit.

-And I know that I didn’t call, I’m sorry for that. But neither did you.- her eyes widened in shock and her mouth produced a sound that was halfway form a gasp and a laugh.

-Are you being serious right now? I didn’t call? Then who was the poor deluded idiot that called every day of the week for five damn times? Uh?- she started to yell but then paused and finished the sentence with a normal volume, not wanting her parents to hear. She bit her lip, shaking her head to the ground. 

-Actually, no. The last two days I gave up. Getting the memo that you were probabily too busy to dedicate a few minutes to me. I would’ve come, but I was told that I wasn’t allowed and in any case I wouln’t have known the address.- she spoke softly the last words. Steve shook his head, more confused than ever.

-You called? Nobody ever told me anything…I- I wasn’t even allowed to be near a phone. Didn’t have time. But I swear, I din’t know that. I would’ve answered every time, hell, if they’d let me I would’ve come straight to you. I missed you like crazy.- his brows knitted in an apologetic expression. -And if you refer to the girls from the show, that kiss…I didn’t knew that either. I told them not to do that again, actually. And even then, it��s just a stupid show. You’re my best girl, my darling. And I love you.- a few tears ran down her cheeks.

-I don’t know if I believe you, Steve.- she whispered. He shook his head with sincere eyes getting closer. 

-No, no, no darlin’ please don’t do that. I swear to what I cherish the most on earth I didn’t knew a thing. It was foolish of me to not have done something more, but I promise you that it wasn’t my intention. I would never hurt you on purpose, please, believe me.- she bit her lip trying to contain her sobs. 

-Y-you’re not lying to me?- her expression broke his heart. At that point he closed his arms around you. You let out a few more sobs while he caressed your back soothingly.

-Shh, doll. I’m sorry, so sorry. I promise that I’ll give those assholes a piece of my mind when I get back.- at those words her head snapped up.

-You’re really leaving me again?- her eyes were so sad that made Steve’s heart shatter.

-Darlin’, I have to go back. But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving you. What I mean is that something like this will never happen again. I will make sure to have a private phone with a private number. I wish I could do more, live with you, stay near.- he nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

-But I’ll be travelling all the time, even in war places. I want you here, safe. Will you wait for me?- he asked, one hand on her cheek. She sighed then nodded, covering his hand with hers.

-Obviously I will.-

-

Three months. Three months that she didn’t feel his lips to hers. His hands touching her. His deep voice soothing her. His laugh. Three months of only calls. They would hear each other more often when he was in America, while in Europe, it became more difficult. Mostly because of the war zones and the time differences

She would go to see him in theatres when new footage arrived. The same stupid show, same song, same dancers. The second time she went to see him, she smirked when she saw that there were no kisses anymore. At least she could’ve gripped to that little gesture and Steve’s love. It wasn’t easy, not having him near.

There have been a few rumors of him hooking up with some dancers, some actresses. But when she asked him, he always assured that they were lies, just to make news. He was indeed a very good headline, being the most popular person in America, but the awful insicure feeling never really left her.

After that mess with the calls she actually wondered why they decided to keep him away from her. At first she thought that maybe it was really a matter of lack of time, but then she realized that it was bullshit. They certainly had been busy, but she didn’t think that he didn’t have the time to rest, sleep or even just breathe.

Also, they allowed the calls, but it was never announced that he had a girlfriend. They never did anything to stop the rumors, they first added the flirty kisses to the show, put him among a group of pretty girls basically every night.

Oh, and wouln’t America just drool over the country’s most popular guy even more, if he had a sweetheart? Probably yes, but the sweetheart in question was curvy and not rich. This thought, this demon inside her head, made her even more insicure about herself.

And what about her parents? They were just the cherry on top. 'Oh dear, you should move on, like he did’, 'Another country, another girl!’, 'Don’t be deluded honey, he’ll probably marry a rich actress before the end of that damn tour’.

The last call she recieved was from Azzano, Italy a few days prior. She wasn’t particularly worried, a few days of pause weren’t strange. So she was even more surprised when her mother came running to her with the news that Captain America in person went alone from Azzano to Austria and helped saving the imprisoned soldiers of the 107th regiment. The plate that she was drying slipped from her grip and broke into the sink but she didn’t care, instead she took off her apron and ran out to find the streets already full with joyous people that acclaimed his name.

-Where is everyone going?- she asked a Young boy.

-To see Captain America, in Times Square!- he exclaimed running away with an American flag in his hands.

She decided to follow the parade, considering that a cab would’ve been a bad idea with all those people. Suddenly a car stopped not far from her, and Colonel Phillips got out, walking towards her. She stopped and waited for him, wanting to ask about Steve, but he shushed her and got her in the car.

He assured her that he was safe, and he was just doing him a favor. He also mentioned how brave, but also stubborn, he was. She smiled, couln’t be more in agreement.

After a little traffic they stopped in front of a bar. He turned to her and gave her a small smile, she nodded and thanked him. Y/n stepped into the bar, full of people cheering.

-Doll?- she turned towards the voice. Steve, in green military uniform, completetly safe, was there. She sighed in relief and ran to him. They hugged and he picked her up, kissing her and making her spin a few times. Then he lead her at the back of the bar, where there was another room, more private with just a couple of tables. Some soldiers were laughing with their beers in hand. Then she spotted a familiar face and grinned from ear to ear.

-Bucky?- she asked. The brunette’s attention was caught and he smirked raising up.

-Long time no see Y/n.- she ran to hug him too and he chuckled, squeezing her.

-I’m happy to see you too. Tell me, how many tears did Brooklyn ladies cry while I was away?- he asked smugly. She rolled her eyes but played along.

-Oh, so many. The streets were rivers, believe me.- he laughed shaking his head. Then her attention was back to Steve. A sweet smile was playing on his lips while he watched her. She reciprocated the smile and went to sit with him on a bench a few feet away.

-I’m so proud of you. What you did was…stupid. But brave, so damn brave. I love you Steve Rogers.- she said kissing him. He moaned softly against her lips.

-I missed you like crazy, doll. Couldn’t bare to stay away from you one more day.-

-So…no hot actresses? Or dancers?- your tone was sheepish. He huffed.

-Absolutely not. Why would I want them, when I have my best girl at home?- he smiled kissing her forehead. Her smile dropped.

-Yeah, why would you?- it was so low that she wasn’t sure he had heard her, but he did, and very clearly thanks to his enchaced earing. He put two fingers under her chin.

-Hey. None of that. You’re stunning. For me, you’re better than any model, or dancer or actress or whatever. Because you’re you.- she blushed a little, smiling.

-Also, you’re sexy as hell darlin’. Have I told you that that dress makes your ass look amazing?- he teased and she slapped him lightly on the chest.

-You dirty boy! The war did really make you bolder mh?- she laughed a little bitig her lip. He raised an eyebrow..

-You don’t like it?- he smirked, leaning closer. You locked gazes.

-I love it.- you responded kissing him deeply.

Love me some Steve. Hope you liked it ;)

[artificialqueens]

Girls Interrupted, Chapter 1: The Institution: 1, Katya: 0 (Vatya) 1/2 - Maeve

AN: Hi, everyone! I suppose this is my debut as a fan fiction author, and I’m super nervous. I never thought that I would be a writer, myself, but when I suggested a Vatya fic outline, some of you lovely people encouraged me to give it a try. ConCrit is always welcome! I tried my hardest, and I hope you enjoy! EEK!

August air is like a woman in heat: wet, warm, and not in the mood to do favors.

The short walk from her baby blue Beetle to the cafeteria doors left Katya sweating like a hooker in church. “Part-time-clown working a corner in the Red Light District” was a solid look, but Katya was beginning to doubt that it was the right choice for the first day of the new school year. The fabric of her long-sleeved dress clung to her skin uncomfortably.

If the funfetti doesn’t cover my sweat stains, I’m suing, Katya thought.

She tried to smooth down the sheer fabric out of habit. Katya took a deep breath before throwing open the glass door and bracing herself for a head-on collision with nostalgia. White floors, harsh light, kitchen clatter—too much for a Wednesday.

It’s an A/B day. First period: English, room 316. She repeats the mantra again and again in her head. If she loses the thought, she’ll never be able to find her way back.

Pussy, she chastised.

Katya’s bright red combat boots plunk across the linoleum and up three flights of rubber stairs. She might apologize for shattering the silence if anyone else were around, but the English corridor remains silent.

She, In her loud dress and noisy shoes, looked very out of place.

Mother, I’ve breached a sterile environment.

The white walls and white floors seemed to stretch for miles in either direction. Katya had forgotten how sad the white looked without students against it.

Mrs. McPhee’s door, like all the other doors, was an unremarkable brown. Katya stared into it and tried to reconcile the empty canvas with the image of the imp of an english teacher described by the upperclassmen . No dice. Perhaps her friends were exaggerating their hatred for the woman behind the unassuming door. It would be nice to think the best of  people, but she knew she lived in a time when that didn’t happen often. People suck; get with the program.

An eternity later the bell rang and Katya got to her feet before the horde could pull a mufasa on her. The unremarkable door swung open, revealing a short woman with a tight face and copper hair.

This could be trouble, an alarm flashed in her mind.

However, her body did not have time to trigger a fight or flight response. The older woman flashed Katya a bright smile, taking in her first student of the year. Mrs. McPhee enthusiastically extended her hand for Katya to shake.

“Hi there! I’m Mrs. McPhee! It’s so nice to meet you!” She all but chirped.

Katya snapped out of her thoughts and accepted the gesture. “I’m Katya. It’s nice to meet you too,” the teen delivered the customary response before Mrs. McPhee ushered her inside.

“Feel free to sit anywhere! I need to run to the copy room and grab a few things for class today. There’s an ice breaker activity on the tables that you can get started on,” she said before ducking out into the hall.

Someone’s had their morning coffee, Katya quipped, the corners of her mouth turning up in a small smile.

Familiar faces began to fill the chairs at the tables, but Katya had yet to find one she’d spoken more than a sentence to. The presence of her long time crush, Trixie Mattel, in the seat across from her did nothing to quell her growing anxiety, either.

A frantic Mrs. McHale returned with arms full of papers shortly after the end of the passing period. Katya could hear the eyes rolling at the sight of her. Cue the secondhand embarrassment.

Copies of the syllabus made their way around the room. Katya tried desperately not to wince as her English teacher introduced the “phone spa” where phones would live during class.

It wasn’t hard for Katya to become lost in her own thoughts once again.

Is there going to be a project on the summer reading? Is my copy of All the Light We Cannot See—which I’ve annotated the crap out of—going to be of any use to me at all?

The blonde was fucked if they were going to have to do an in-depth analysis of the text. The only thing she could remember about it was that the girl, Marie-Or-Something, was blind. And that only stuck with her because of the cackling fit she had on the floor when her mom asked her why she chose the book. And, of course, it was stupid. It was too hilarious that a book with a title about not being able to see the light had a protagonist who was blind, and thus, literally could not see the light.

The thought brought a smile to Katya’s face even now. It was unlikely that Anthony Doerr intended to make an ironic joke about a blind girl, but Katya liked to believe that humor wasn’t dead. Was it terrible? Yes. But come on, she literally couldn’t see the light. Because she was blind. Katya snorted at the mental picture that formed and immediately covered her mouth. Scanning the room, Katya determined that she hadn’t drawn any attention to herself. That was, until she caught Trixie Mattel’s unimpressed gaze.

Go figure, Katya scowled, I bet she thinks I’m keeping squirrels in the space between my ears. The teen could feel her cheeks flush beet red in embarrassment. She darted her eyes down to the syllabus, suddenly finding classroom procedures intriguing.

Fuck! Shit. She thinks I’m a freak, and she’s going to tell all her friends. Everyone will stare. You’re an embarrassment, a fool a—

Lady luck chose the opportune time to smile down on Katya, for it was an A/B day, and that meant classes were much shorter. The shrill bell sounded over the loudspeaker and silenced her pleas to be wished out of existence.

Katya’s second period was library aide. It was the perfect opportunity for her to get ahead on homework when she wasn’t needed. However, she knew full well that she’d spend the hour and a half people watching and reading obscure works.

The library was empty this morning and she cou;d take a moment to compose herself. Mrs. Slay, the librarian, gave her a brief runthrough of her duties and explained library procedures. Afterwards, she released Katya to her own devices.

Katya had never actually spent much time in the school’s library. The harsh, fluorescent lighting did nothing to make the room look cozier. Dozens of tall wooden shelves framed large areas along with some extra shorter shelves of books.

Katya trailed her fingers along dusty spines, hoping that a title would catch her eye.

Her third period class, theater, was on the first floor. A lot of people found it weird that a self-identifying technician was still involved in normal theater classes. Katya began her career on the stage, though. Her stage fright and lack of singing and dancing abilities were not about to stop her from growing as a performer. She promised herself that she’d audition for the play this year.

Ginger was waiting for Katya in their usual seats when she entered the black box. The blonde smiled at her best friend, taking a moment to look over the other faces in the space before joining her long-time companion.

Unfortunately, another year had not flushed out the riff-raff. Katya scowled, new year, same bullshit. The blonde shared a knowing glance with Ginger.

Rolaskatox—the inseparable trio of  Roxy, Alaska, and Detox—remained front and center. Sharon and Jinkx camped out in the back, and Tammy sat awkwardly on her own with Raja and Manila nearby. Pearl and Trixie gossiped to their left.

After Ms. P, the theater teacher for juniors and seniors, passed out the syllabus, they gathered in a circle. Playing stale warm-up games never failed to put the majority of the class in a pissy mood. It was no secret that half of the room hated the other half of the room; times when they were all forced to work together were toxic.

The second activity Ms. P had put on the agenda for that morning was not any better: duet scenes. The oblivious woman thought it would be a fantastic idea to assign partners at random for the scenes. Katya’s heart jumped in her throat when their teacher called Alaska Honard’s name along with hers.

Alaska had long, silky golden hair, soft pink lips, and big doe eyes. She was easily the tallest girl in their grade (and quite possibly in their school). She had legs for days, and they looked stunning under that short green cheer skirt in Katya’s opinion. And most of the student body’s opinion. Alaska might have been the nicest girl on the cheer squad, but Katya was sure that this encounter could still be fatal.

Katya hesitantly approached Alaska, who had yet to stop chatting with Roxy and Detox, and cleared her throat.

“Um, Alaska, I have our scene…If you want to go work on it…” Katya trailed off, digging the toe of her boot into the black floor.

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her. She could feel the eye roll and once over from tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Instead, she focused on the tight smile the blonde in the middle gave her. Alaska nodded and followed her out of the black box.

The two girls made their way to the anti-lobby in without a word. Neither of them knew how to break the silence between them.

It was Katya who bit the bullet “Look, Alaska, I know you’re not thrilled about being my partner. But I care about the work I do in this class, and I know you do too. So can we just—”

“I’m sorry about them,” Alaska cuts her off. The confusion and shock is visible on Katya’s face, and Alaska feels the need to further elaborate. “Rotox…they’re rotted cunts sometimes. I think you’re a great actress, and I’m actually pretty glad to be working with you,” Alaska confessed . She ducked her head, and a long, golden lock fell into her eyes. Katya had to clutch the fabric at her thighs in order to resist the urge to brush it behind the taller girl’s ear.

“Okay then,” Katya breathed a sigh of relief, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Katya could not believe the success she’d had on her scene with Alaska in theater. Maybe cheerleaders—well, certain cheerleaders—weren’t so bad after all. Katya was feeling optimistic as she made her way back up to the third floor for biology.

Are all biology classrooms supposed to reek of formaldehyde? Katya wrinkled her nose in disgust. There were tables made up of four desks clustered in front of the whiteboard at the front of the room. The back half of the room contained lab tables and equipment. Katya figured they would not be spending the majority of their time in there. Again, not wanting to draw attention to herself, she slipped into an empty desk near the back of the room. Their teacher, Mrs. Yates, shuffled around marking students present—to save time, Katya supposed. She finished moments before the tardy bell rang, and the students quieted as she took her place at the front of the room.

Mrs. Yates opened her mouth when the door slammed open. The culprit was captain of the cheer team, Violet Chachki, or what Katya swears, must be the devil in high heels. Satan made eye contact with a startled Mrs. Yates and lazily flashed her a small slip of paper. Hot pink: Coach Calhoun’s signature color.

“You must be Violet Chachki!” The friendly woman greeted. “Why don’t you take a seat next to Katya in the back?”

The gentle instruction wasn’t an option for Violet. The only empty seats left were at Katya’s table. Katya felt as though Mrs. Yates had just declared it open season on quirky blondes with questionable fashion sense. Dread pooled in her stomach; she was too young to die.

Similarly, Violet visibly recoiled at the idea of sitting next to some theater clown. Violet’s withering gaze focused on Katya, but she was certain it wasn’t her that the fuming brunette was plotting to crucify. Katya pitied whichever of her bimbo cheerleader friends forgot to save her a seat.

Violet chose the desk across from Katya. The blonde didn’t resist the opportunity to take a magnifying glass to the untouchable girl, herself.

Violet chachki was stunning. If looks could kill, the school would be a cemetery by now. She was a dark horse, a vixen, a black widow, the kind of beautiful that hurts you if you get too close. A girl like that did not belong here. Katya watched in awe as Violet’s manicured hand brushed long onyx strands back into place.

Unfortunately, Katya was no Double O Seven, and it didn’t take Violet long to pick up on the attention she was getting. The same painted fingers removed themselves from dark, silky waves and ventured closer to Katya’s face. They snapped suddenly, and Katya almost fell out of her blue plastic chair.

She only had a second to recover when Violet spat venom at her. “Hey, Bozo the Cunt, has the lack of oxygen in your tiny car affected your ability  to function, or are you just simple?”

“Bozo the Cunt”? That’s new. Mother, I’ve made a name for myself. Katya brought her eyes up to look at Violet. Her failure to provide a timely response did her no favors and the she-demon’s ruby red lips curled into a snarl. If Katya could feel her legs, she would be running to the nearest place of worship.

“Quit staring at me, freak,” Violet hissed. Katya met violet’s piercing eyes with her own sheepish blue ones.

“I-I uhm…Sorry. You look nice today?” Katya offered with shrugged shoulders. She wouldn’t buy her excuse either.

The brunette rolled her brown eyes, fishing her sparkly red phone from her bag and leaving Katya to pick at her hands.

Mrs. Yates saved Katya’s cuticles when she passed out materials for the students to make makeshift nameplates for their desks. Katya was a sucker for crafts. She wasted no time in writing her name in thick, red letters. A large, yellow sickle and hammer ran through the center of the page and black Russian characters accented her work of art. Katya was proud of herself. Capping the black marker, she took a risk and peeked at Violet’s handiwork.

Violet chose a clean and classical look for her own sign. V I O L E T was spelled out in deep purple, looping script.

Katya sighed. It was going to be a long year if the ice queen froze her out completely. At least Katya enjoyed biology.

After everyone was finished with their nametags, Mrs. Yonkin passed out an ice breaker activity designed to help the students get to know everyone at their table. Unfortunately, it was an activity where you had to interview a partner, and Katya’s partner was clearly unwilling.

“I don’t see why we have to talk,” Violet complained. “Trade papers with me so we can fill out our own answers. I’m tired of working with people that are not myself.”

Katya couldn’t help but feel a bit insulted. It wasn’t like she had herpes or something. They didn’t even have to share their entire life stories with each other; a favorite color is as generic as it gets. If the bitch wanted to be difficult, Katya sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

“Look, Princess, I don’t know anything about science other than it’s really good for you,“ Katya bit back, “But I haven’t done enough crack to melt my brain. Do you honestly think people would believe that you could produce chicken scratch like this?” The blonde gestured pointedly to the top of her own page where she had scrawled out her name. Violet pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Oh and I’m also not bad at science. It was a joke, A bad one,” Katya tried to assure the frustrated girl in front of her. Her words of comfort did little to change her new partner’s mood, though. She tried again, “What’s your favorite color?”

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Plus One

“I’m not going. This is stupid,” Lexa lamented as she sipped her coffee. She slumped back in her chair and stared at her fingers picking at the holder anxiously.

“You have to go.”

“I don’t, and I’m not. It was a courtesy invitation, and that’s all.”

“Which is exactly why you have to go,” Anya explained, already annoyed at her sister's antics and moping. “You have to show her that you moved on and it didn’t take forever for you to get over her. Costia needs to see that you got someone nicer and better and smarter and hotter.”

“I’m fine. I’m over her. I don’t have to go to prove anything. And,” she twisted up her face at the realization, “I haven’t found anyone all of those things. I haven’t even tried.”

The café filled with people grabbing some sustenance while the two sat at their normal table. For the better part of the conversation, Lexa regretted mentioning that she’d gotten her ex’s wedding invitation. She also hated that now she would have to listen to her sister’s opinions on the matter.

“That’s my point! You haven’t even looked! Costia cheated on you, broke your heart, stole four years of your life, and then asked to be friends after it was all over,” she recited. “Now she invites you to her wedding and you’re supposed to go and be happy? No way.”

“We’re friends. It was the nice thing to do, but I probably won’t go.”

“You have to go and show her what’s what.”

“What does that even mean?” Lexa shook her head and sipped her coffee as she let her gaze wander to the window and the city outside.

The coffee shop was bustling, filled with people reading and writing and talking and laughing, but it did nothing to make Lexa feel any better about the invitation. She refused to look at her sister because she knew exactly the look she was getting.

“You find yourself a hot date and make her see that you weren’t even bothered at all.”

“That’s stupid.”

“It’s brilliant.”

“It’s petty.”

“Think about it,” Anya said excitedly. “You go to the wedding, you take a smoking hot lady, and you end it, once and for all. You prove that you aren’t even  thinking about Costia.”

“It’s over. It’s been over for years.”

“All you do is work.”

“I run my own business,” Lexa sighed, shaking her head. “I want to be successful. And I am over her. I’ve dated.”

All that Anya could do was shake her head and give a heavy groan of complaint. She was never a fan of Costia, and she was certainly more than happy to see it over, though never happy to see how gutted it made her sister.

There wasn’t a doubt that Lexa loved Costia. She’d been her first real love. There’d been girlfriends before, but something always came up, always ended it before six months. Something about Costia was different, and for the life of her Anya never knew why, and her sister could never explain it.

And while it was true that Lexa was busy, her sister never believed much else. She didn’t buy the other girls and going out and being over Costia. Someone over their ex wouldn’t look so glum about a wedding invitation.

“You have to show her. Just think about it.”

“I never would have imagined you’d be advocating me going to Costia’s wedding.”

“I’m advocating you getting laid and rubbing it in her face.”

“Okay, are you done?” Lexa laughed and hoped all at once.

From the table, she looked back over the café while her workers went about their jobs, not really needing her to do their jobs. She didn’t care, she still liked to work normal hours. Unfortunately she hired competent people and so she wasn’t needed and couldn’t be saved from her sister.

“Think about it.”

Lexa shook her head and sighed, hoping it was enough.

The problem was that Lexa did think about it.

She thought about it all night as she locked up the doors in her café. She let it bother her when she met a few friends out for drinks. She even let it follow her as she told them about her sister’s plan, to which they eagerly agreed, much to her own disappointment and shaming.

The problem was that Lexa thought about it all night.

She thought about it after a few glasses of beer. She thought about it as her brain got a little dizzy and her fingers moved on her keyboard.

Wanted: Beautiful, intelligent, kind, caring, smart, funny woman to show off to my ex at her wedding. Trip to wine country included... Honestly, the other stuff doesn’t matter, just be super hot.

With a grin, she emailed it to her sister, asking if she should post it somewhere.

Still, the thought nagged at her until she opened her ex’s profile. The pictures didn’t hurt her, didn’t bother her. It was like looking at a memory. In reality, she didn’t know Costia anymore, and that was alright. In the years apart, Lexa had grown her little place into a business, and she survived and mended. She just wasn’t sure she was ready for anything with someone else. She got good at being alone and wounded.

With a half drunk revelation about her place in life that she hoped she would forget, Lexa fell asleep and vowed to never think about Costia’s wedding again.

Lexa was mildly successful. After about a week, her sister didn’t bring it up, and she forgot to return the RSVP. It faded away to nothing, and she continued her normal life just as she had since Costia got kicked out and left for good.

“I’ve found her,” Anya sprinted into the coffee shop, nearly panting and half skidding past the counter.

From the booth in the back where she worked on the books, Lexa adjusted her glasses as she looked up and watched her sister frantically look around the counter for her. She perked up when she met Lexa’s eyes and continued to weave back through the tables, shedding a scarf and bag in the process.

“I’ve found your date!”

“I don’t need a date,” Lexa furrowed, forgetting about the stupid wedding. “I have three employees on vacation next week. I’m fine. I’ve told you--”

“Shh. Hush. Shh-shh-shhut your face,” she shook her head and tried to catch her breath still. “I ran the whole way here. I haven’t ran anywhere, ever.”

“You could have texted--”

“Shhh!”

With a roll of her eyes, Lexa waited patiently for her sister. She had bills to pay and she had stuff to get done for the day. After their mom left, Anya grew up almost overnight. The tender age of twelve and suddenly making sure Lexa was okay. It was a hard habit to break. Even fifteen years later.

“We don’t have much time, but through a series of events, I may have forwarded your email to most of my company, meaning all of my company,” she explained, holding up her hand as her sister moved to interrupt and complain. “But I did find you a date.”

“You… You…” Lexa squinted and stared at her sister incredulously. Her mouth wanted to move, but she was too mortified. “You WHAT?”

It came out louder that Lexa normally sounded, which surprised her sister slightly. A few people mingling in the coffee shop looked over, though she didn’t notice. Instead, she just stared at Anya and waited to find the proper words. They’d never come though. She knew it. Her brain was too frazzled.

“Just be calm. Sit up straight. Fix your hair. Be charming,” her sister insisted.

“Anya, I can’t possibly--”

The words stalled as she trailed off slowly when she saw a beautiful girl appear in her coffee shop. But as much as she was distracted, she found her senses again and shook away the thought before giving her sister another glare.

“I’m not doing this,” she hissed, ignoring Anya’s self-satisfied grin.

“Yes you are. You need this.”

“You’re not pimping me out to a strang--”

“Yes I am.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Too late.”

“Am I interrupting?” the girl in question appeared, all too close for Lexa’s comfort.

“No!” Anya said, much too loudly. “No, no, not at all.” With a pointed look, she found her smile to put the stranger at ease. “Clarke, I’d like you to meet my sister, Lexa.”

“Hi,” the blonde smiled

Lexa gaped for a second, pursing her lips shut as she gulped. It was more of a problem than she’d expected. How a girl like that answered a stupid email, as lost on Lexa. But her sister nudged her shoulder and she came back around.

“Hello,” she managed stiffly, earning another nudge. “I-- Um. Could I get you a coffee?”

“Sit, sit,” Anya interrupted. “I’ll go get them for you both. Take your time. Get to know each other. Work it out. I know where everything is. Lexa owns this place. Pretty good coffee. What can I get you, Clarke?”

“What do you recommend?” she asked, turning to the owner with a natural smile on her face. Lexa could make out the hint of a dimple on the blonde’s cheek and that was trouble.

“Matcha cappuccino,” Lexa decided. “We just got some new leaves in from one of my friends in Kyoto.”

“Two of those, coming right up,” her sister clapped her hands. “You two sit and get acquainted.”

In a second, she was gone, weaving through the tables toward the counter, leaving the two strangers standing there, awkwardly looking back and forth at each other until Lexa held out her hand and motioned for Clarke to take the chair her sister already offered. Awkwardly, she gave a weary smile and tried to figure out where to start.

From the get go, Lexa could see that Clarke was essentially the opposite of her ex. Where Costia was tall and slender, Clarke was shorter and curvy. Where there was dark, curly hair, no was blonde waves. Gone were brown eyes and in their place was blue ones; bluer than any blue had a right to be. And the smile. Clarke had a constant smile, always right there and eager and warm.

Lexa blushed when she realized she’d met Clarke’s eyes again after staring at her lips, her cheeks growing pink with the blush of being found out.

“I’m really sorry my sister’s pulling you into this mess,” Lexa finally began, all the words bubbling up from her chest and spilling out of her mouth. “I’m severely embarrassed that it got forwarded. It was just a joke, and I don’t even want to go, but I also don’t think it’s fair to ask someone to preten--”

“Easy there, tiger,” Clarke chuckled as Lexa spun out. “No one dragged me into it. I volunteered.”

“But… why?”

“I’d had a few glasses of wine when I responded, to be honest,” she shrugged. “And then Anya seemed so grateful and relieved. I’m also kind of excited for an adventure. If I wrote a bucket list, I’d like to think crashing an ex’s wedding just to spite them would be on it.”

“Let me just get this straight. You’d willingly go and pretend to be my girlfriend to make my ex mad, just for fun?”

“Makes me sound a bit psychotic when you put it like that,” she frowned before perking back up. “But yeah. Why not? Should be some good karma in there somewhere.”

Lexa stared at the stranger, torn between amazement at the good intentions on display and the absolute absurdity of it all. She couldn’t just go with someone she just met to Costia’s fancy, Napa wedding. That would be bad. And wrong. Wrong and bad. That would be crazy. And yet, it was suddenly an option.

“You’re really sure about this, aren’t you?” Lexa finally asked.

“I’m a fairly good fake date. If you’d like references, you can ask my high school boyfriend. I was his beard for two years for family functions.”  

“Ah, so you’re a professional fake girlfriend?”

“I think that’s an escort-in-training, to be precise,” Clarke decided before seeing Lexa’s face fall slightly. “I’m kidding, obviously. That was a joke.”

“Thank goodness.”

Before either could say anything else, two cups appeared with frothy green and white foam were slid on the table, right on top of Lexa’s work and papers and notebook. She looked between the two of them and smiled expectantly.

“You two seem like you’re talking. Going well?” Anya hoped.

The hope in her tone was evident from the get go, and Lexa didn't really know what to say, so she just shrugged and looked at Clarke who did much the same thing.

“It’s alright,” Lexa finally tried, earning a nod from the blonde across the table.

“Good, good,” she smiled. “I’m just going to head back to work and let you two crazy kids iron out the details. I’m sure this is going to be great.”

Once more, Anya gave her sister a pointed look and communicated a few things to her through her face before giving Clarke a smile, resuming the happy front. To her credit, Lexa didn’t completely die of embarrassment just yet.

“So, you run this place?” Clarke asked, blowing on her drink before taking a sip.

“Own it.”

“Wow. No wonder you look so stressed. I can’t imagine the pressure.”

“I get by alright.”

For a moment, she didn’t have much else to say, but Lexa felt like she should. There was this weird feeling of wanting to say things to put the girl across her at ease, and she really wasn’t sure how.

“This is good.”

“Thank you,” Lexa smiled weakly as she quickly processed the information that came from the amiable stranger. “So you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

From across the table, Clarke carefully put down the mug of delicious coffee with care and from beneath her lashes, in an absolutely stunning kind of look that was enough to make Lexa’s mouth go instantly dry, she met her eyes and she let her lip quirk up on the corner slowly and just enough.

“Lexa, there are moments when you just have to be someone’s fake girlfriend. It’s a service to the world.”

“To the world, huh?”

“I had a pretty gnarly break up a few months ago. My friends say I need to get out. This seems like a low-pressure introduction, and for some reason, hiding behind an act of charity makes it easier for me to put myself out there.”

With a sigh and another sip of her cup, Lexa looked around the coffee shop and mulled. She was someone who mulled. She took time to decide things. Never one to be rash or impetuous, unless apparently a lot of wine was involved, Lexa tried to turn it around from all sides.

Clarke just sipped and smiled, careful to wipe the foam that got caught on her lips.

“We don’t have to touch or be super personal. I won’t ask you do to something you aren’t comfortable with. This is strictly pretend, or even it’s like friends, hanging out.”

“Well, you’re a sweet fake girlfriend,” Clarke beamed.

“I’m not doing this to get my ex back or to sleep with you or anything like that. Anya thinks that showing up with a beautiful girl would just be a nice way to turn the page.”

“I kind of agree. Your sister wants you to show your ex that you’ve moved on and she missed out. I think that’s fair.”

“I’m over her. I am. I think that’s why this feels weird.”

“You don’t want to seem like you’re trying too hard when you’re actually okay,” Clarke nodded, understanding perfectly. “But you also are still kind of hurt and don’t want to go alone because that would seem weird.”

“Super weird, right?”

Clarke just chuckled and nodded.

“It’s kind of weird being this honest with a complete stranger.”

“Yeah, or with anyone,” Lexa mumbled slightly to herself.

“If you want, you can think it over. You don’t have to decide. I think it’s just nice to know that you have the option to have someone to hang out with and make it less weird at your ex’s wedding.”

The nice girl nodded politely and finished her coffee. There was a kind of pink in her cheeks that made her eyes seem clearer.

“You’re really serious?”

“I am,” Clarke nodded. “You seem relatively normal minus this whole thing.”

In a move, Clarke reached across the table and picked up a pen before snagging a napkin. She jotted down her number and slid it across the table.

“I still can’t believe you’re serious,” Lexa shook her head despite seeing the number.

“Me neither. Just let me know. I should head back to work,” she offered, standing up from the table finally. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you.”

Lexa stood as well, though the moment she did, she regret it and was unsure why. Instead, she just remained and somehow stuck her hand out to shake as if it were an interview. Nice enough, Clarke smiled and shook her hand before heading back toward the entrance and tossing a wave over her shoulder.

It wasn’t until Clarke was gone that Lexa sat back down and picked up the napkin tenderly. She smiled slightly at the whirlwind that just happened. She wasn’t ever that honest, and she was never that vulnerable, but two minutes with a pretty girl and she was confessing it all.

“Where did she go? What did you do?” Anya worried, sitting quickly.

“I didn’t do anything. I can’t believe you did this though. She was nice and seemed normal and you--”

“I found you a wedding date, if you didn’t scare her off.”

“I have to think about it.”

“What is there to think about? I hand-delivered a hot blonde who is just weird enough to accept your drunken offer for a date to your ex’s wedding.”

“I am still not sure I’m going,” Lexa shook her head.

Carefully, she folded the napkin and slid it in the pocket of her shirt.

Her sister  rolled her eyes and groaned.

“You’re impossible.”

For the entirety of the evening, well after the coffee shop was closed and Lexa was back in her own place, the weight of the napkin tucked into her shirt pocket weighed heavily upon her chest. She refused to look at it to confirm the numbers and the slopes and curves of Clarke’s name just above it.

But like a little thought worm that burrowed deep into her brain, she couldn’t reach it to evict it. The notion existed within her and she couldn’t escape it.

Once again, Lexa opened up her ex’s website and perused the pictures. There was a distinct lack of connection there anymore, and yet the book wasn’t shut. Clarke was right-- Lexa needed to go there and make sure. She had to feel the disconnect in person. She had to free herself of this nagging need to feel something. And Clarke had the qualifications for it. She was pretty and funny and sympathetic to a weirdo’s weird request.

After another lap of pacing through her house, Lexa stood still as a statue in her living room before tugging the napkin out and dialing the number.

“Hello?” Clarke greeted on the sixth right, right before Lexa was prepared to chalk it up to a loss.

“Clarke? It’s Lexa. Lexa Woods. Anya’s sister. We met earlier at my coffee shop. About the, er-- the um-- wedding?”

It all came out so quick that her brain was even catching up quick enough to be embarrassed for the incoherence.

“Ah, yes. I remember.”

There was some amusement in her voice and that did not make it any easier.

“Would you go with me to my ex’s wedding?” Lexa blurted. “I think my sister might be right.”

“Don’t tell her that.”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“So you’re asking for a smokeshow and arm candy to show off and help with closure?”

“Yeah, but I’m kind of okay with you hanging out with me. You have a pretty good grip on what I’m feeling.”

“I would love to be your fake girlfriend, but I have one condition.”

“Oh God,” Lexa goraned, flopping down on her couch as the embarrassment caught up with her and she knew enough to be nervous.

“I get to make up our origin story.”

“Sold!” she barked. “I don’t want to think about anything.”

“Perfect. Should we go over the details?”

“I’ll email you the reservations, and of course I’ll book your plane ticket.”

“How chivalrous of you, darling,” Clarke teased.

There was a moment of quiet before Lexa took a deep breath.

“Thank you for doing this. It means a lot to me, a complete stranger.”

“I get a paid-for vacation and I love dancing at weddings. This works out for both of us.”

“Whatever you say, Clarke.”

NEXT

[jessicasland]

The One That Fits Right In Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Rocky Beginnings Reagan stared at the large white school building in front of her. It was her first day at the public high school and since she moved with her family, she already felt nervous. Reagan’s face went pale, she felt like she was going to be sick, there were butterflies in her stomach. It was big, bigger than the palace she used to live in back in Southern France. Was she really going to go in there? Well, she had no other choice. She took a big deep breath and walked up the stairs to the main hall. Reagan look at all the students bustling, talking, and laughing in the hallways. It was completely crowded! She couldn’t even walk without being squished in between one or two of the students. She checked her schedule. The first thing she needed to do was find her locker. It was locker 239. Reagan adjusted her glasses once she managed to get out of the tsunami of students to find her locker. There were endless rows of tall dark green lockers. But which one was her’s? As she passed by the students, she always remembered to say her “excuse me’s” or “pardon me’s” when she was trying to get through, and remembered to say her “sorry’s” when she accidentally bumped into people. Reagan was about to check the next row of lockers to find hers until- BUMP! The next thing Reagan knew, she was on the ground. Her backpack, books, and lunchbox were scattered on the ground. In front of her was another girl. She had short brown hair and sap colored eyes. Her skin was the color of a what someone would look like if they had gotten a sun tan. She also wore very expensive clothing, tall high heal like boots, and had layers and layers of foundation and make up on her face. Reagan gasped and said, “Oh geez. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She pulled the other girl into her feet and picked up all her books and makeup. “Here. These belong to you don’t they?” “Don’t you dare touch those!” said the girl, snatching the belongings out of Reagan’s hands. “Don’t you know how much money all this makeup costs?!” “...No.” Regan replied. “I-I don’t think we’ve officially met before during the orientation. I’m Reagan!” Reagan smiled and held out her hand for the other girl to shake. The girl looked at Reagan and looked at her hand and sneered in disgust. Using a pencil, the girl moved Reagan’s hand away, “Oh yes. The new girl from, what was i? Larodon? Southern France?” “That’s right! Future Heir to the throne to!” replied Reagan. “So, what’s your name?” The girl scoffed and replied, “You don’t know who I am?” Reagan said, “No not really. That’s what I was trying to ask you.” “My name is Harper. Harper Jane Cadigan Scott.” said the girl. “And these four girls make up my group. The one with the black hair is Marissa, the one with the gross looking flying pig thing on her shirt is Elle, the one who’s the brace face is Lorraine,” Reagan mouthed to Lorraine, “You’re braces look nice.” and Loraine mouthed back “Thanks.” Harper continued, “and the one in the yellow which is a really disgusting color BTW, is known as Krystal.” Reagan stared at them before saying, “Nice to meet ya.” “So, now that you know this little group here, get outta my way.” said Harper, turning up her nose. “What are you even doing anyway?” “Oh, um. I’m looking for my locker.” said Reagan, showing Harper her schedule. “It’s locker 239.” “What?! You can’t have that locker!” said Harper. “Why not? The school staff gave it to me so that means it’s mine for this year.” said Reagan. “But that’s my locker!” said Harper. “Everyone knows that locker 239 is the biggest locker in the school! Well, everyone except you Four Eyes.” “I know. That’s why they gave it to me.” said Reagan. Harper growled and was ready to strangle Reagan but Marissa stopped her and said, “Harper. We gotta go. Besides, I heard Kaiden was in our economics class.” Harper gasped in delight, “Why didn’t you say so?! Let’s go!” The other girls followed Harper down the hall, except for Loraine, who stayed behind to help Reagan find her locker and just like Harper had said, locker 239 was the biggest locker in the entire school. Reagan waisted no time to get started organizing her brand new locker. “Shame.” Reagan said to herself. “This locker looks so dull. It would be nice to spice it up a bit.” Then, Reagan had a wonderful, spectacular idea! Tomorrow before school started, she would bring in the beautiful acrylic paints that she had gotten for her birthday back in the summer and paint her locker till her her hearts desire. Reagan checked her schedule as she finished placing the new lock on the front. Reagan’s Schedule - A Day: Mon, Wed, Fri 1st Period-Art 3rd Period-US History 5th Period-Biology 7th Period-Office Aid B Day: Tues, Thurs 2nd Period-Spanish 1 4th Period-Culinary Arts 6th Period-English 2 8th Period-Algebra 2 Lunch: First Lunch Reagan was happy when she saw her first class. Art was one of her favorite things to do! She would spend hours a day just drawing and doodling in her sketchbook. It even helped her when she was stressed or upset. So this class would really help improve her art a bit more, especially when it came to drawing hands. History. Oh brother. History was super long and super boring and History wasn’t one of her strengths. Biology. Mmm, not so bad. But then Reagan remembered she didn’t really like it as much when she was homeschooled because she never got to do any labs at all. Office Aid? What was that? Spanish. Perfect! She more or less knew some words in Spanish thanks to homeschool. And one of her aunts spoke Spanish to so this would help expand her vocabulary. Culinary Arts? Wow! She loved to help the family’s personal chef in the kitchen back home and bake things on her own from time to time to! She could learn to cook and expand from making a simple PB and J sandwich. English. Interesting. Would she be learning the language English? Algebra. It was neither her weakness or her strength. But she was well advanced in math seeing how good at it she was. Reagan checked the time on her watch. 7:55AM “Uh oh.” thought Reagan, “I should already be at art class!” She didn’t wanna miss her first real class. She stuffed her schedule in her pocket, picked up her art supplies and sketchbook, and dashed down the hall to the art room. The minute Reagan stepped foot into the room, she was already greeted with large tables, pictures and paintings from years past, easels, light tables, tables with five chairs for five students to sit at, and a closet filled with tons of art supplies. But the professor was missing. Where was she...or he? Reagan dropped her things at the nearest table and walked around the room while the students chatted amongst themselves. She looked around the large room but then stopped at the closet. She saw a short figure who looked shorter than her, fumbling about where the paints were. Reagan asked in a shy tone, “U-Uh. E-Excuse me? I-I don’t mean to be a bother b-but uh. Where did the professor run off to?” The women bumped her head before turning to Reagan. She looked and dressed like a gypsy women. Beads and all. Reagan’s eyes widened as she saw her. The women hopped down from the ladder and walked up to Reagan. “You’re lookin’ right at her.” she replied. She had a thick Russian accent. “Oh. It’s uh, nice to meet you.” said Reagan. “I-I’m-“ “New student. I know.” she replied. “Davay! Davay! out out out!” She pushed Reagan out of the closet and said, “Take your seat. I don’t have all day.” Reagan said nothing and took her seat. This art professor seemed pretty rude. The women clapped her hands to get the students attention. “Dobroye UUUUtro class.” said the lady, holding the U. “Dobroye Utro Ms. Preobrazhensky.” said the rest of the class. “Welcome welcome! I would love to welcome you all to my Art class.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “Now, vhile I take the roll. I would like you to complete your first sketchbook assignment. Vou must draw your name and draw all de things you kiddies like. Uh, for instance uh de Fortnite game or de annoying song vith the colorful sharks or vhat ever you kiddies like now a-days. Da! Begin.” Regan opened her big, black sketchbook and got to work. She wrote her name in big bubbly letters and colored it red. Then she got to work on surrounding her name with many things she liked like. Her drawing consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a lamb, a paint pallet with a paintbrush, a drawing of Iron Man, the symbol for Taurus, a stack of comic books, a steam engine train, Patch from 101 Dalmatians, and some puzzle pieces representing the fact that she has Autism. She didn’t notice that any time passed by until Ms. Preobrazhensky shouted, “Gold Girl!” Reagan jumped in her seat in surprise. Most kids snickered at her. “Come on, let me see your vork.” she barked. Reagan showed Ms. Preobrazhensky her sketchbook. Ms. Preobrazhensky stared at it for a while before she took it to her desk. Reagan sat in her seat for the longest time while the gypsy looking art teacher was staring at her sketchbook. She felt nervous and started twirling a loose strand of her hair (which she often does when she’s nervous). “REAGAN!” Ms. Preobrazhensky screeched. Regan’s eyes widened as the teacher called her. She stood up and walked to the desk. “Niet! Niet! In my office.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky, pointing a long bony finger to a small office. Reagan gulped and stepped into her office. Was she going to get in trouble on her very first day? Ms. Preobrazhensky closed the door and started.....hugging Reagan. Reagan was confused. “Vou brilliant child! Look at this!” said Ms. Preobrazhensky, showing her the assignment. “I had no idea you’s could draw so well! How long have you’s been drawing?” “..Since I was 3.” said Reagan, still twirling her hair. “I’ve never seen dis type of talent in my class before.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “My dear! There is not much I can teach you! You have very good talent!” “Really?” asked Reagan excitedly. “...but I wish I could draw hands better. My hands look like potatoes.” “Tell you what.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “How about I gives you some pointers on how to draw hands. During the lunch break. You’s can have your lunch here and then we can start.” “You mean it?” asked Reagan with a gleam in her eyes. “Of course of course!” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “After all, talent like this does not show up everyday. Although. I am curious about de puzzle pieces you drew here. Wvat do they mean?” Reagan fumbled with her words. If she told the teacher, let alone the whole school that she had Aspergers, she’d be the laughing stock of the entire 10th grade! “U-Uh....I-I love to do puzzles.” Reagan lied. “Ahh.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky, “interesting hobby for a girl your age.” “Uh yep.” said Reagan with a nervous laugh. Ms. Preobrazhensky handed back her sketchbook. “So, I wvill see you during lunch on Wednesday?” asked Ms. Preobrazhensky. “Sure!” said Reagan, “Thank you. Thank you Ms. Preoba...uh, can I call you Ms. P?” “Of course you may.” said Ms. Preobrazhensky. “Cool. Thank you Ms. P!” said Reagan as she walked back to her seat. She sighed with relief. .... The rest of the morning went by in a blur and before Reagan knew it, it was lunchtime. She took her orange metal lunchbox and headed for the cafeteria. Reagan walked slowly as she tried to find a seat but most of the students already called dibs on each table. Then, Reagan saw Harper and her group of friends (minus Loraine) sitting at half-empty table eating and gossiping. “Harper!” said Reagan. “Harper! It’s Reagan from this morning!” Harper stopped her, “Hold it Four Eyes!” Reagan stopped dead in her tracks. “This table is for popular girls only.” said Harper. “Yeah, we don’t take in newbies!” added Marissa. “B-But I don’t have anywhere else to sit.” said Reagan. “Tough!” said Krystal. “Let me show you where the newbies sit.” said Harper. She lead Reagan to the garbage cans in the corner of the cafeteria. “B-But that’s the garbage can.” Reagan said. “Exactly. That’s where all the newbies go. Because every single newbie that comes to this school is nothing but a lowlife piece of trash!” explained Harper. “Ask the freshmen! Trust me, this seating arrangement is WAY up you’re alley.” With that, Harper walked away, leaving Reagan alone. Well, Reagan had no other choice. She sat on the floor and ate her lunch. It was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some apple slices, a little white milk carton, some celery sticks, and a chocolate chip cookie. Loraine noticed that Reagan was sitting on the floor by herself. “You got sent to the trash to?” she asked. “Yep.” said Reagan, not paying attention. “I know how that feels.” Loraine replied. “I got sent here to. But you wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t sit with you.” Loraine sat next to Reagan. “S-So. You’re Reagan?” asked Loraine. “Uh-huh.” Reagan replied. “And you’re........Marissa?” “Close. It’s Loraine.” said Loraine. “Ohhh! Brace Face!” said Reagan. Loraine stared at her and started to eat her food. Reagan realized that she wasn’t supposed to say that. “Oh geez. U-Uh, Loraine I didn’t mean to uh-“ “No, it’s Ok. I get that a lot. Even Harper calls me Brace Face.” said Loraine reassuring her. “Then, if Harpers your friend, why does she cal you brace face?” asked Reagan. Loraine looked at Harper and then back at Reagan. “Harper’s cool and all but she’s...she’s a real jerk sometimes.” replied Loraine, “and besides, she’s never complimented on my braces before. I just got them a week ago and they hurt like crazy.” “Oh, here.” said Reagan handing her an Advil cup. “Take an Advil pill, it will help with the pain.” Loraine took a tablet and swallowed it with some milk to wash it down before handing back the Advil cup back to Reagan. “Thank you.” said Loraine. “Hey, since we’re here, wanna tell secrets? If that’s what you royalty folks like doing.” “Sure!” said Reagan. “Uh, you go first.” “OK.” said Loraine. She whispered, “I have had this weird habit of biting my nails. I still have it and nobody else knows this.” “M-My turn.” said Reagan. “The thing is that I...I............IhaveAspergersSyndrome.” “What?” asked Loraine, “You we’re speaking to fast Reagan.” “Sorry.” she replied, “I…I have Asperger’s Syndrome…its a case of mild Autism. I’ve had it since I was two and it-it effects me socially and mentally. I have some weird obsessions. I still watch Blues Clues for pete’s sake and-“ “Reagan.” said Loraine, “I’ve heard enough. But why don’t you wanna tell anyone this information?” “I-I don’t wanna tell anyone because I-I didn’t wanna get bullied again.” said Reagan. Loraine held out her pinky and said, “I won’t tell a soul that you have Autism. It’s a promise. A pinky promise.” Reagan looked at her pinky and joined hers in with Loraine’s. “Thank you.” said Reagan as she hugged Loraine. Loraine was shocked but hugged her back.

[aleinnilatibae]

Trouble in Álfheima part 2, for real this time

Okay this is the actual part two, the LONG one. THought i wouldn’t finish it but i did. Big giant shoutout to @greykolla for helping me with the icelandic parts!!

In comparison to their trip to the moon, the rocket trip to Iceland was just a quick hop.

But, to Stephanie, it seemed about a thousand times longer.  Sportacus was in TROUBLE! She was BURNING with purpose and the need for action, and this rocket just couldn’t fly fast enough, no matter how hard she pedaled!

After what seemed like an eternity of flying over the ocean, with the five of them swapping off turns at the pedaling and eating the sportscandy from the dispensers, they finally caught sight of an island.

“Scanning terrain for potential landing sites…” Pixel said as they circled the rocket around the island, “Got one! Zone 4-2, prepare for landing protocol!”

The rocket tilted into landing position and slowly, gently, touched down to the earth below.

Stephanie threw the door open, and a blast of cold air barreled its way into the rocket.

She slammed the door shut again.

“Coats!” she blurted, “Everybody needs coats!”

Once they had all slipped into their winter weather outfits, Stephanie cautiously opened up the door again, climbing down the ladder and taking in the scene.

They had landed at the bottom of a gently-sloping hillside.  There wasn’t much around, besides a gigantic gnarled tree and a house in the distance. It appeared to be daytime, but the grey sky overhead made it impossible to tell what time it was.

“Maybe Sportacus just went to, ah…visit that house?” Stingy asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so, the trail ends before that house,” Pixel said, looking at his wrist computer, “Follow me, we are super close!”

They all walked together through the damp grass, Pixel in the lead, up the hill towards the ancient tree.

“Brr, I thought Greenland was the cold place,” complained Ziggy.

“Well, Greenland certainly has a higher volume of ICE, but we ARE still basically at the Arctic Circle,” Pixel explained, “Hey, did you know that there is a volcano that went off here that stopped air traffic across northern Europe for almost a week? It’s called-“

He was interrupted by his wrist computer letting out three quick beeps.

He gasped. “Stop!”

Everyone froze mid-step.

“This is it! This is where he was last seen!” Pixel said, taking a couple more steps and standing underneath the branches of the big tree.

“There wouldn’t be a chance that, he was, I don’t know…still HERE, would there?” Trixie asked hopefully.

“The chances are…low,” admitted Pixel. “The connection between our computers was severed hours ago. He could be ANYWHERE by now. Wherever he is, we have to find him another way.”

Everyone looked to Stephanie, who suddenly felt the pressure to make some sort of decision.

“We should look around a little,” she suggested, to four affirming nods. “He could still be here somewhere, maybe even in a sugar coma! Let’s check here first before we look around anymore.”

They all set to looking around the base of the enormous tree.

Stephanie looked up into the branches, looked in amongst the tangled roots, rifled through the grass, as the tiny spark of unease inside her grew and grew into a simmering panic. She recalled all the times that Robbie Rotten had hidden Sportacus away, and only an accidental slip-up on his part had given them the upper hand to save the day.

If there was an even bigger, BADDER bad guy out there…who knows IF they would ever find Sportacus again!

“Hallo?” called a distant voice, interrupting her thoughts.

Everyone looked at each other.

“Behind the tree!” Stephanie said, and they all clumped together, close enough to feel each other breathing.

Stephanie’s heart pounded as the footsteps got closer.

“Benedikt?” a woman’s voice asked.

None of them moved, fearing what lay behind that innocent-sounding voice.

The footsteps took a step to the right.

The kids shuffled to the left, keeping the tree inbetween.

“Jósafat?” the woman asked.

She stepped.

They shuffled.

She stepped.

They shuffled.

Stephanie reached into her pocket and gripped the apple she had stored inside. This game couldn’t go on forever, and she had to be prepared.

The mysterious figure feinted to the left, stepped to the right, and came face to face with all five kids.

“BOO!” she shouted.

Stephanie screamed and threw the apple as hard as she could.

THWACK!

“OW!” said the mysterious figure as she stumbled a few steps backwards, clutching her head.

Adrenaline pumping, Stephanie paused as she FINALLY got a good look at this person.

Taller than Stephanie but shorter than Sportacus, she wore a bright red shirt adorned with a daisy design smack dab in the center, hanging down over blue jeans. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which exposed the face of a young adult…

She was just a regular woman, not an Álfheima monster.

Stephanie’s mouth dropped open as she connected the dots. There was a house up on that hill, and they had been making a bunch of noise, of course whoever lived there would want to come down to investigate…

And Stephanie had just ASSAULTED her with an APPLE!

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” Stephanie exclaimed, “Please don’t call the police!”

“Oj…the-the police?” the woman said in accented English, rubbing her forehead, “Wh-why would I call the police on five little-“

She stopped mid-sentence and looked over their shoulders.

“Is that a ROCKET?!” she gasped, voice cracking with excitement, “Wow!”

The kids were all speechless as her careful, cautious manner completely disappeared, and she pushed past them to examine their rocket.

“Is that how you GOT to Iceland?” she asked, touching one of the boosters.

“Um-“

“With your American accents, I figured that you weren’t from around here,” she was saying, starting to climb the ladder, “But I’ve never seen any-are those, what do you call them…ellipticals?” she asked, poking her head inside.

The kids looked at Stephanie, but Stephanie certainly didn’t know what to do with this…extremely enthusiastic lady crawling around their rocket either!

“There’s nowhere to put the fuel, and I don’t even SMELL any exhaust,” she was saying, “How do you POWER this thing?!”

“Exercise and sportscandy!” Ziggy said cheerfully.

“EXERCISE?!” she gasped, going in for a second look, “That is CRAZY!”

Stingy smacked Ziggy. “Stop telling her about MYYYY rocket!! For all we know, she could be some sort of SPY!”

The woman peered back down at them. “A spy? ME?” she laughed, “This is my house, and my garden! For all I know, you could be the spies here!” she smiled mischievously.

Stingy made an offended noise, and stamped his foot. “NO!!! YOU are the spy!! I bet YOU are the one who kidnapped Sportacus, and are just admiring our rocket to distract us from rescuing him from Alfheima!”

The maybe-not-a-spy gasped from atop the ladder.

“Álfheima?” she repeated.

She jumped from the top of the ladder straight down to the ground, her mirthful demeanor completely gone. “How…how did YOU learn about Álfheima?“

Stingy clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Should we run for it?” Ziggy whispered, a little bit too loud.

“No! No, no, no, please don’t run away, I’m human, see?” she said, wiggling an ear at them. “I’m not from Álfheima.”

“What on earth does being HUMAN have to do with it?!” asked Trixie, echoing what they all were thinking.

“Be-because HUMANS don’t come from Álfheima, obviously??” she sputtered, “Don’t you know anything about the place that you are looking for?”

That gave Stephanie pause. What DID they know about Álfheima?

One. It was very dangerous.

Two. Sportacus was headed there when he sent Robbie that message.

End of list.

“We…we don’t know much,” Stephanie said in a small voice, “But…we got a message, from our friend, who said he was in danger there. Pixel, can you show-”

Pixel nodded and projected a picture of the paper airplane message out of his wrist computer.

The woman squinted at the holographic letter, mouth moving wordlessly as she deciphered Sportacus’ atrocious handwriting.

“He never, ever, EVER asks for help, and…we are all really, really worried about him,” Stephanie said, honest words tumbling out that she had thus far been too afraid to say.

“Danger in Álfheima,“ she muttered, thinking hard. “And your friend is involved with it?”

“Usually is,” Trixie said.

The woman straightened up. “Okay, come inside,” she said, motioning them to follow her in her walk back up the hill, “We have a lot to talk about.”

“What do you mean?”

“You aren’t the only ones who have friends in Álfheima,” she said, “And if things are as dangerous as this implies, they might need my help as well. Now come in! I will make some tea.”

“Wait a minute, lady, Sportacus is MISSING, and you’re inviting us in for TEA? Who even ARE you?!” Trixie demanded.

She stopped walking, and turned around.

“My name is Dídí,” she said, after a pause, “And I might be the only human being on the planet that can help you right now.”

-

When Stephanie crossed the threshold into the house, she was suddenly enveloped in heat. Dídí’s fireplace was roaring, contrasting starkly with the cold from outside. She sighed contentedly and put her coat up on the coat hanger.

The kids tentatively looked around the living room while Dídí went to the kitchen to make some tea. Her house wasn‘t exactly gigantic, but it looked…underused. There was a couch that was about the same size as the one that Pixel had in his room, and there was a teeny table over by the windowsill, and there were a FEW nice paintings and wooden decorations on the walls, along with a tall cabinet of ancient knick knacks.

The kids all piled onto the couch, halfway sitting on each other to fit.

Dídí came in and served them all tea, but she ran out of mugs and had to serve Ziggy in a sundae glass and Stephanie in a cereal bowl.

Dídí lived alone, it was becoming apparent.

Stephanie slurped at her nontraditional soup. Dídí just seemed like a normal, run-of-the-mill Icelandic woman.  If Stingy hadn’t accidentally mentioned Alfheima to her...

Stephanie was just happy to have a lead after their fruitless search beneath the tree.

Dídí pulled a chair up and fixed her five visitors with a stare.

“You are…Stephanie, Trixie, Ziggy, Pixel…” she was met with a nod with each correct name she assigned, and then turned to Stingy with a pause.

“Is your name really Stingy?” she asked him.

He sniffed. “I have many names, that belong to me,” he said haughtily, “And Stingy is but one of them.”

Stephanie tried to send a “sorry-about-him” look to Dídí, but she seemed unfazed by Stingy’s antics.

“Tell me about this elf friend of yours,” Dídí said, putting down her cup, “You must really care about him.”

“Elf…friend?” asked Stephanie.

“Yeah, the one you are looking for,” explained Dídí, “The one who went to Álfheima.”

“Pfft, SPORTACUS? He’s not an ELF!”  Trixie scoffed.

“Álfheima means ‘elf world’,“ Dídí patiently explained, “He’s GOT to be, if he got there on his own. Humans generally can’t show up uninvited.”

“Well, Sportacus isn’t LIKE everybody else,” Ziggy said proudly, “He’s a hero!! He flies around in his airship and-and helps people all the time, wherever his magic crystal tells him they need him!”

Dídí raised an eyebrow. “He has a magic crystal and you still can’t believe he’s an elf?”

“Well, uh, when you put it THAT way…” said Stingy.

“Does he have any…strange physical characteristics?” asked Dídí.

“Just his silly MUSTACHE,” Trixie snickered.

“Trixie! Be nice,” Stephanie scolded.

“What? It’s like two cat whiskers!”

“Hm,” Dídí took a sip of her tea. “Can he do…a lot of things that most people can’t do?”

“He did 74 flips in about two minutes yesterday,” Stephanie said.

Dídí‘s jaw dropped, but she composed herself and continued. “Okay, big question, have you ever actually SEEN his ears? Or does he keep them covered?”

“That’s a weird question, Of COURSE we have seen-“ Stephanie began, and then paused.  When she really thought about it…

“Guys. Have we ever seen Sportacus without his hat on?” she asked her friends, urgently.

They all thought hard, but the answer was no, Sportacus had always had that hat on, during every single rescue, every single holiday, every single FLIP, for the multiple YEARS that he had been in LazyTown.  

They had never seen his ears even ONCE.

“Oh my god,” Trixie said in awe, “Sportacus is an elf.”

“A SECRET elf!” said Ziggy with a similarly reverent tone.

“It really explains a lot, if we are honest with ourselves,” admitted Stingy.

Dídí nodded slowly. “It’s the only way he could get into Álfheima without assistance.”

“But…how are WE going to get there?” asked Pixel, “You said that humans can’t go to Alfheima.”

Dídí put her cup down, and stood up. “That’s where I come in!  I have what you call…a special arrangement,” she said, touching her necklace. “I can take you all to Alfheima, and I can help you save your friend.”

“Hooray!” the kids cheered.

“The bad news is…” she sighed, “Álfheima…it can be a pretty dangerous place, even on a good day. And if an ELF calls it very dangerous, that’s even worse. We have NO IDEA what we are getting into, kids. Are you sure you want to go looking for him?”

“Lady, our lives at HOME are pretty dangerous, too,” Trixie said, scoffing, “We are always falling out of trees, planes, crashing rockets, getting kidnapped, dealing with Robbie Rotten in disguise trying to steal our sports equipment-“

“Who?” Dídí asked, looking concerned and confused.

“But Sportacus is the guy who always saves us from all that! He’s probably the reason that we are all alive right now, and we really owe him,” she continued.

Dídí nodded brusquely. “Then, we shall go to Álfheima.”

-

They all followed Dídí out the door and back down the hill.

While they walked, Stephanie caught a glimpse of the raised red mark on Dídí’s forehead and felt guilt surge in her gut.

“Um…” Stephanie said tentatively, “I’m…sorry for throwing an apple at your head, Dídí.”

“What? Oh, don’t worry about it,” Dídí waved a hand at Stephanie dismissively, “I would have done the exact same thing at your age, probably.”

“Really? You’re not mad?” Stephanie asked.

Dídí chuckled. “Trust me, I’ve been through MUCH worse things than five Útlenskt kids showing up in my garden and pelting me with apples.”

“That was DEFINITELY only Stephanie who did that,” Stingy supplied unhelpfully. “Not the rest of us. Just saying.”

Stephanie sighed.

“Hey, I’m glad that you were prepared for the worst, in case I WAS the bad guy who took your elf friend,” Dídí said, nudging Stephanie playfully. “But, I shouldn’t have scared you. I actually thought you were my elf friend, Benedikt, playing a trick on me, or I would not have in the first place.”

“Wait a minute, we’re heading right back to where we started!” said Trixie, pointing at the tree. “What gives?”

“Well,” Dídí said, ducking underneath its branches and standing on top of a root, “Like I said before, Álfheima translates to Elf World.”

“Do we need to use the rocket?” asked Stephanie.

“Oh, no, no, no need,” Dídí said, trying to hide a smile, “Just watch THIS, you’re gonna love it.”

She cleared her throat.

“Hlynur!” she called, looking toward the tree. “Hlynur minn, vaknaðu!”

“Is she talking to the tree?” whispered Stingy.

“She said we’re going to the ELF world! I’d believe ANYTHING at this point!” said Trixie.

“Hlynur minn, við þurfum að fara til Álfheimaaa!” she called, hands cupped around her mouth.

She went closer to the tree and touched one of its branches. “Heyrir þú í mér?” she spoke, loudly and slowly, “Má ég fara til Álfheima?”

“Ó, Dídí Álfavinur,” came a deep voice from the tree, startling Stephanie, “Alltaf getur þú farið til Álfheima.”

The kids gasped as the tree shifted in front of their eyes, opening up a cavernous hole at the bottom of its trunk.

Dídí stood near it, arms crossed, smugly smiling at all of their gaping jaws.

“Well, let’s not waste any time,” she said, clapping her hands together, “Follow me!”

Stephanie was feeling the tingling excitement of adventure already, and as she looked around at her friends, she saw that feeling mirrored back to her.

Taking a deep breath, she crawled in after Dídí.

Once inside, it was complete pitch blackness.

“Where are we going?” asked Stingy from the back.

“Into a tree, obviously.” Trixie said.

“Thanks, Trixie,” Stingy deadpanned back to her.

“I don’t even know where we’re going,” admitted Pixel, “Because my GPS is going HAYWIRE in here.”

“And also, it’s DARK,” Trixie said, a smirk in her voice.

“Thanks Trixie,” deadpanned Stingy again, “Neeever would have noticed that one without you.”

“Wait, what’s that up ahead?”

“Are those lights?”

“AAH!!!”

They all screamed as they stopped just before a precipice.

Stretching out in front of them, was the BIGGEST cavern they had ever seen.

The walls held twinkling lights, reflective crystals, and glowing plants, all of which fed off of each other, making the cave walls shine and sparkle as bright as the sun with a million different colors.

And the cavern…

The cavern was ENORMOUS. Stephanie wasn’t even sure that it WAS a cavern, it seemed to stretch back and downwards into infinity, the lights twinkling and scintillating both near and far, like the night sky itself had come down to settle into this cave.

“Hey!” called Dídí, waving at them from the very very edge of the cliff, “Watch THIS!”

She saluted the five of them, and then LEAPED off of the edge into the cavern!

Stephanie screamed, rushing forward to try to catch her, but-

Dídí hadn’t fallen.

In fact, she was suspended in the air right where she jumped, lit from all sides by the twinkling lights inside the cave.

“It’s okay!” Dídí assured them, with a huge smile on her face, “The cave won’t let you fall!”

“This is officially the CRAZIEST day,” Pixel murmured in awe.

“Hold onto each other, kids, and follow me to Álfheima!“ Dídí shouted, turning around and floating deeper into the cavern.

The five of them exchanged incredulous looks, but shrugged, and joined hands anyway.

“Everybody ready?” Stephanie called, hearing affirmations in response.

“One…two…THREE!”

They all leapt off the precipice together.

There was a heart-stopping moment where Stephanie was filled with instant regret for JUMPING OFF A CLIFF, but…as she hit the apex of her jump, she felt her body get lighter and lighter, like being filled up with helium, and she hung in the air just like Dídí did.

And then, a subtle force began to gently tug her forward, like gravity had changed its mind about abandoning her, but it pulled her forwards slowly instead of slamming her to the ground.

“We’re FLYING!” Trixie said, vibrating with excitement, “WOOOOO!!!”

“Actually, I think we are more like floating,” Pixel noted.

“Don’t ruin my dreams with science, Pixel, or I’ll let GO of you!” she shot back.

“Ohh, don’t let go, PLEASE,” Ziggy said, voice quaking, “I’m so afraid of HEIGHTS! Why do we have to float up so HIGH?!”

Now that they had floated a little ways into the cave, Stephanie could see that they were actually passing by some of the starlike balls of light, rather than them all being unreachably distant like the night sky.  She reached out her hand to brush one of them as they went by, but her hand was pushed away from it by what felt like a repelling magnetic force.

“What IS this place, Dídí?” asked Stephanie.

“This place…is the place in between the human world and the elf world,” Dídí called back to them, voice reverberating and echoing off the huge walls, “Benedikt said something like…it is made of the same stuff as dreams are.”

“I think I’ve SEEN this place in my dreams before,” Stephanie said, kicking her dangling feet and looking at the lights that passed by below her.

Strangely, she felt absolutely no fear in looking down, now that she knew that she wasn’t going to fall.

“Hmph. MY dreams usually have more MONEY in them,” Stingy said from the other side of Pixel.

As they went further and further across the expansive cavern, one of the lights in front of them grew stronger, brighter, and bigger.

Stephanie realized that it was that light that was drawing them forward, like metal to a magnet.

And the pull was getting stronger.

“Brace yourselves, we are going to land!” Dídí yelled, and Stephanie tightened her grip on Trixie.

They got heavier and heavier as they headed for the bright light, flying faster and faster, until finally-

CRASH!

They all tumbled out over each other, landing in sweet-smelling grass.

“We made it!” came Dídí’s voice from above them, “Great job, kids!”

She helped them all back up to their feet, and gave them all high-fives.

“That was, hands down, NO contest, the COOLEST thing I have ever DONE!” crowed Trixie, punching a fist in the air.

“Yes! Me too!” Dídí agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “Now, all of you stay here, please. I will be right back. I need to go find Jósafat and uh…” she took a deep breath, “Break this to him…GENTLY. Stay right there, please.”

And she was off, leaping through the clearing and dodging the trees like they were her home.

The kids peered around the clearing. There was a grassy hill, eerily reminiscent of the hill next to Dídí’s old tree, but there was something…different about it, somehow. It looked brimming with life, teeming with sparking magic, little flitting glitter spots shining among the too-green grass.

The enchantment of the scene was…captivating.

“Ugh, NONE of my instruments WORK in here!” cried Pixel in frustration, pressing buttons to no avail.

“Well, duh, we are in the ELF WORLD now!” Trixie said, “Doesn’t technology hate magic or something?”

“Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, Trixie,” Pixel sighed. “They probably have technology here that we can’t even understand.”

“Guys?” Ziggy said, quietly.

“Gee, I don’t really see any COMPUTERS around here,” Trixie said, looking around exaggeratedly, “Do you?”

“Guys?!” Ziggy said again.

“Well, there still could be ELF technology, maybe they just developed some sort of…alternate type of tech!”

“Are you telling me that they make computers out of-out of STONES or something?”

“Why not? They did it in MINECRAFT!”

“PFFT, MINE-craft?!” Trixie sputtered.

“GUYS!!” shouted Ziggy.

“What?” said both Pixel and Trixie.

Ziggy was stock-still with terror, and raised one trembling finger to point off into the distant fog.

That’s when they, too, saw the shape.

It was a humanoid shape, striding menacingly towards them from far away, wiggling its extra-long fingers at its sides.

And, as it emerged from the fog into the light of the sun, it got WORSE.

The terrible creature was HUGE, about the size of Robbie Rotten, and had a pale, sickly white face and a boyd that looked to be covered in dripping tar.

“Is that a g-g-goblin?” Ziggy asked, terrified.

They drew in closer to each other as he began to stalk around them, knees up high, movements quick and jerky like an animal. His wild eyes scanned the children, back and forth and up and down, as if he were trying to comprehend what he was seeing.

His eyes narrowed, and he raised up a finger, appearing as if he were counting them.

Suddenly, he stopped.

The kids were frozen to the spot.

The creature opened up his mouth and SCREAMED.

The children screamed, and ran up the grassy knoll to hide behind one of the trees.

“I th-th-think that guy ATE Sp-Sp-Sportacus!” said Ziggy, shaking in his boots.

“Shh!” Stephanie shushed, swallowed hard, and chanced a glance around the tree.

The creature didn’t even seem to be LOOKING at them anymore, nor interested where they went. He was just…screaming at nothing, jumping around the clearing in some sort of fit, waving his arms all over the place and making blubbering noises.

“NÓG! NÓÓÓÓÓG!” he screamed, his voice screechy and reedy, hands clutching his head, “EITT MANNABARN VAR NÓG!”

Stephanie was at least eighty percent sure that those were words, and maybe even in a language that humans spoke. But she couldn’t be completely sure, because even when this goblin creature made wordlike noises, they were still in the same high, screeching register as his gibberish moans and groans.

“AF HVERJUU!!!!” he screamed out, arms splayed to the side and face raised up to the heavens, “AF HVERJUUUUU!!!!”

He froze, and turned his whole body to fix Stephanie’s exposed face with a wide-eyed stare.

They stared at each other.

He raised one sickeningly-long finger to point at her and screamed again.

STEPHANIE screamed again.

“BUUUUURT!!” he screeched, full-tilt sprinting towards her as he wiggled his extra-long fingers in front of his as he ran-

“JÓSAFAT!” came Dídí’s voice from the opposite direction.

She was running with all her might, hair flying behind her, stretching out one hand as if to try to stop him from where she was. “Hætta þessu! Þau komu með mér!”

He froze in his tracks. “Dídí...Álfavinur?” he said cautiously, turning around to see her.

She smiled toothily.

“HÆ!!!” they said simultaneously, wiggling their fingers at each other.

“Þessi...mannabörn eru með þér?” He asked in disbelief, lip curling with disgust.

“Já, svo ekki hrella þau!” Dídí said, jabbing a finger at him.

“E-en-en-biddu nú-” Jósafat looked almost offended, as he gestured back and forth between Dídí and the children, but then slumped.

“Allt í lagi þá,” he mumbled.

Dídí looked up at Stephanie, peeking her head out from behind the tree, and waved.

“It’s okay, come on out!” she called, “He won’t hurt you.”

“You-you KNOW him?” asked Trixie.

“Is he going to e-e-eat us??” Ziggy asked, voice shaking in fear.

“No, he is NOT going to do that,” Dídí said, throwing a hard look at Jósafat, “Anyway, I would like you to meet… Jósafat Mannahrellir!” she presented.

He smiled uneasily and waved a hand at them as they crept slowly out from behind the tree.

“He is a…guard of the elf world,”  Dídí explained, “He protects it from humans who would do it harm, and? He has been one of my greatest friends since I was a little child!”

“REALLY?” Ziggy gasped in disbelief.

“Yep!” she said, smiling wide.

“Afsakið,” said Jósafat, voice still just as high and reedy as it was when he screamed, “Sæl og blessuð, eh heh heh heh,” he said, in a tone that showed that he was taking GREAT pains in an attempt to be nice.

Five sets of eyes blinked up at him.

Jósafat crooked a finger at Dídí and gestured to the children.

“Biddu nú en,” he said, fairly quietly, crossing his arms, “Afhverju geta þau ekki talað mannamál?”

Stephanie didn’t understand what he had said, but Dídí’s face looked like he had said something ridiculous.

“Mannamál?” she repeated, face grimaced in confusion.

“Þau-þau skilja ekki mannamál, eru þau…” he put a hand up to shield his mouth from the children, “Heimsk?”

“Heimsk?!” exclaimed Dídí, “Nei! Þau eru bara að tala ensku.”

Jósafat looked back at the children, and narrowed his eyes. “Jæja, ég skil ekki þessa…ensku, segðu þeim að tala mannamál.”

Dídí rolled her eyes.

“Ahem!” said Trixie, “If this...guy is some Elf World guard, then has HE seen Sportacus?”

Dídí turned to Jósafat. “Hefurðu séð álfar í dag?”

Jósafat harrumphed. “Ég sé svo marga álfar allan daginn!”

Dídí facepalmed. “Æ, hver er Benedikt?! Farðu og finna hann!”

“Okay!” said Jósafat, throwing one last pained grimace of a smile to the children as he crept away into the forest.

“Benedikt is a little more…welcoming, let’s say,” Dídí said, looking back at where Jósafat had disappeared to. “And he has friends all over Álfheima. If anybody can find your friend, he can.”