#she has One Hell Of An Allergic Reaction on her back

[doberbutts]

Don't mind Sushi's new haircut just watch her play with Ashen

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

More random Nimona headcanons

Bal is one of those people who isn’t allergic to anything except one random medication that no one uses 

Ambrosius calls him a lucky bastard every time it’s brought up because he’s allergic to everything 

His allergy list is at least three pages long and he doesn’t remember a single thing on that list 

Whenever they go out to eat Bal has to remind him “No you can’t eat that it has olives” “Not that either love it’s got lemon” and so on 

Most of his allergic reactions are pretty tame so he’ll eat it anyway

And it gives Bal and Nimona so much fucking anxiety 

One time Bal walked in on Nimona chasing Ambrosius around the kitchen yelling “Spit out the carrots Nemesis you don’t even like them that much!!” 

Whenever he eats alone he refers to it as a game of Russian roulette 

Bal refers to it as the reason he has high blood pressure

Because Bal and Ambrosius grew up in the limelight (for very different reasons) there are a million pictures of them through the years 

And they use those videos to bully the hell out of each other 

Bal can quote the video from the beginning of the movie not because it was an important moment in his childhood 

But because Ambrosius will quote it at the most random times throughout the day

Bal will do something small like kill a bug or chase out an animal that Nimona brought in

And he’ll hear Ambrosius mumble “I’m here to slay monsters and protect our kingdom”

He was a little worried Nimona would react badly to this habit but he started joining in 

One time he killed a spider and Ambrosius asks “Are you slaying monsters moonbeam?” Nimona yells from the other room “I’m so proud of him he’s truly protecting our kingdom” 

There are a million photos of baby Ambrosius on the internet 

And Bal made a PowerPoint presentation ranking their cuteness factor out of 10 (100 was the lowest score he got and it was a picture of him with the ugliest bowl cut you’ve ever seen)

And made Ambrosius sit through it 

That was the most loved and mortified he had felt in a long time

Nimona uses low-quality pictures of them as reaction photos 

There have been times when Nimona asks “Can we eat out tonight” and Bal tells her no and she sends him this 

He’ll text back “Is that my fucking wanted poster?!” 

She asked Ambrosius if there was any ice cream left and he said no he expected her to call him and complain he didn’t expect this 

He calls her yelling “When the fuck did that happen?!” 

And she hangs up immediately to let Bal deal with it

[angelkhi]

mirrorball - j.m

pairing: bodyguard!joel miller x f!reader (3rd person)

summary: a gala isn’t your thing, dress shopping isn’t Joel’s. It’s a shame no one can get their way.

warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut in future parts, mentions of alcohol, references to being roofied, language, sexual themes (no actual sex), mentions of blood, joel is a massive dick. let me know if i missed anything!word count: 2.8k

a little note: it’s here! (kinda). ive been kinda busy (i graduated!) but also wanted to take my time with this, and maybe explore some aspects of writing that i usually skim over (my bad). i estimate that this will be maybe 3 parts? i hope i do it justice either way, this fic was born out of this hc, but mostly your encouraging responses. thank you for being so kind 🩷

series masterlist part two>>

For a price tag of almost three grand, her dress is itchy. Sure it's beautiful enough that the slimy little daddy's boys will fawn over her, and each superficial gold digger will give her one syllable compliments in an overly saturated tone, but it fucking itches. She hikes the material further up her thigh for the third time since the short car ride began, trying to scratch at her skin. Maybe it's an allergic reaction. She hopes so, that way she can avoid the event all together. She's half way to pulling her sleeve away from her shoulder, ready to scratch the irritated skin, but a firm grip around her wrist prevents her from that sweet sweet relief.

"Stop fidgeting." Joel's tone is clipped, the usual hint of strain pulling across his words. She swears she's never seen him relax, not since he became her live-in bodyguard anyway. She cuts her eye at him but of course he's not looking. The only time she ever really has his attention is if her life is in danger, other than that its pure nonchalance and ignorant glances. She can admire his desire to fulfil the position, what with the pay and free accommodation, hell if she had a real job she'd probably be just as uptight as him. But there's only so much a person can take.

"It's itchy." Of course she sounds like a whiny little brat. It's fine, that's all he thinks of her anyway, she's sure of it.

"Should've picked the other one then."

She almost laughs.

She had walked him around the store at least four times, each trip resulting in the same two dresses. She couldn't decide between the colours, then the length, and then the sleeves. In the end he forced her into the changing room, mumbling she either picks one of those or goes in nothing. They both know that's not an option. Both dresses felt nice, as nice as a constricting piece of fabric could feel, they both looked as nice as they could in the dreary washed out lighting. In the end she had asked Joel, who sat just the other side of the door, arms folded, shoulders tense, scowl mastered.

Joel isn't one for verbal communication, unless it's telling her to 'go here' or 'stay there' or his most frequented phrase, 'shut up'.

But his eyes say it all.

Sometimes it's a simple twitch, letting her know he's not as irritated as he lets on, others it's a slight squint. That's her personal favourite. That's when she knows she's got him right on the edge.

His eyes fix on her, moving slow and calculated over the second dress. The way the fabric moulds to each divot and curve of her body, lingering on her chest, on the slightly too high slit exposing her thigh. It's a clear winner.

His levels of exasperation had clearly spiked in the time it took for her to change again, his constant glaring, huffing and puffing dialled up to 100. His wide steps only seem to grow wider on the way to the checkout, his whole demeanour screaming get me the fuck out of here. Which is why she doubles back on herself, not needing to check if he's following, she knows he will.

She stops, a wide array of underwear in front of her. She takes her time, making sure to show each and every barely there pair to him, watching that eye twitch with a perfect mix of irritation and lightly tethered resolve.

He'd dragged her out of there in the end, though not after she held up the skimpiest pair of panties she could find. His hand wraps tight around her arm, not enough to hurt her, she knows he'd never do that. But enough to tell her she's officially pushed his buttons a little too much.

Soon enough the car rolls to a slow stop in front of a grand building. Stone columns tower over her when Joel leads her from the car. She likes to pretend it's not in his job description, that instead he's simply just an emotionally constipated gentleman, but she's not stupid enough to believe it. Still, when his hand finds the small of her back, when he guides her up the steps and into the vast museum-turned-ballroom, it's hard to believe that his behaviour is entirely obligatory.

The event is just as grand as she expected. Her father certainly has no trouble with throwing his wealth around, even less so when it presents the opportunity to show just how wealthy he is. An ornate chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting a warm twinkling light over the guests. An sizeable portion of an orchestra plays dreary classical music from the back of the room, and the guests are filling the space, drinking overpriced champagne and nibbling on bite sized canapés.

She waltzes through the sea of false affluence, painting on her best smile, choosing her most pleasant tone, saying all of the right words. She embraces her father heartily, pushing down the small piece of resistance when he pulls her close. She puts on a good, exhausting show. The only thing that keeps her grounded is Joel, hot on her 5-inch heels, anticipating her every move, being ten steps ahead of her.

She's seated with a handful of the elite from the gathering, laughing when they relay the same stories as always, gasping and feigning surprise when they compliment her. She eats the bland food with a sweet smile and laughs off propositions from parents who just know their son would be a perfect match for her.

In between convoluted speeches, she listens to them drone on about their latest investments, or how well their darling daughters are performing in their ballet classes. She smiles, she drinks. she laughs. She's the perfect daughter. The luckiest girl in the room, with the richest daddy and all the luxuries life could offer. But sat at that table, choking down specs of gold in the dry champagne, she feels more akin to the age old scrolls and scriptures.

A caged artefact, another one of her father's prized possessions, on display to be gasped at. She'd give anything for the glass to shatter, for tiny shards to rain down on each and every person in here. She'd marvel in their horror as they learn they bleed the same as everyone else on this planet. That they're not special, and neither is she.

From the corner of her eye, she spots Joel hiding in the shadows, standing to attention. His eyes constantly scan the room and every few seconds, they're on her. She almost feels bad for practically ogling him whilst he's doing his very best to keep her alive. But his black suit fits his form so well it'd be a sin not to look. She watches as he readjusts his cufflinks for the third time, the material catching around his biceps, the single button clipped across his stomach almost straining with every moment.

Yes, Joel is an insufferable bastard, but he's an unfathomably good looking one. His stoic behaviour is almost forgiven on that basis alone.

A round of applause pulls her from her Joel induced trance. She fixes her smile and joins in, nodding jovially with those around her. Not soon enough, she's free to leave the table, thanking them for their company, and heads straight for the bar. She feels Joel's presence before she sees him, perching a few seats down, eyes still wondering.

She doesn't pay much attention to the man next to her. His suit probably cost more than what most people make in a year, and his charming smile is more snake-like. She smiles when he pays for her drink, laughs and touches his arm, letting him think he has a chance. He's been talking about his most recent investment in overseas stocks for ten minutes, and all she wants is to go home and take off these fucking uncomfortable heels. To be able to breathe without the rigid dress digging into her skin. She wants to be alone, or as alone she can be with her human shadow.

"... and profits are at an all time high. My old man reckons I'll be taking over from him soon enough" The man, Matt? Mike? Manny, speaks. She flashes him a smile.

"Wow. That's amazing." Or at least she hopes it is, he could be talking about his dead childhood pet for all she knows.

"Let me buy you another drink?" He asks. Though it's more of a demand, he's already flagged down the bartender, ordering something sweet and fruity her, and a "real man's" drink for himself.

"You got the last round. I'll get these." She pretends to root around in her too-small purse knowing he'll decline, they always do. Men like him take any chance to throw their money around, wave it in peoples faces, impress the men and woo the ladies.

By the time she's ended the facade, he's waving his amex at her dismissively, nudging the drink towards her. Once again she smiles. She doesn't even want the drink, certainly not in his company.

His beady eyes watch her, a hint of something beneath the thick layer of painted on charm. That snake-like nature increases tenfold and it takes everything in her not to tip the drink down the front of his Givenchy shirt. The glass is barely in her hands when it's ripped from her hands, the familiar scent of Joel invading her space.

His face is taught, that scowl he loves so dearly gone, in its place pure rage. His eyes are dangerously dark, and she's sure if she looked hard enough, there would be smoke blowing from his ears.

It all happens so quickly. The sloshing drink flies from the glass straight into Manny's face, dripping down onto his clothes, turning his sickly white suit into a damp shade of pink. Then Joel is moving, slamming the empty glass onto the bar and gripping the terrified man by his collar.

She can feel the eyes of almost everyone at the gala trained solely on them, she almost expects the music to come to a screeching halt.

She can barely make out Joel's enraged words, despite the silent crowd. She's barely aware of his hand gripping her arm, pulling her through the parting guests. A sea of shocked faces, some sympathetic others purely confused. She stumbles on the top step, her stupid heels and Joel's insane pace working against her. The world turns upside down, and her hands reach out to brace herself, hitting his sturdy back. Even with a layer of clothing between them, she swears she can feel his bare hands across the back of her thighs, the tight muscle of his shoulder pressing against her stomach.

He's thrown her over his shoulder. Like a damned child. And now he's shoving her into the back of the car, as though she's the one that threw a tantrum and caused a scene. He rounds the car and slips in beside her, and they're speeding off back towards her apartment.

The last few minutes slowly slip from a hazy blur to a sharp reality, and she can't help but stare at him. Confusion and pure embarrassment hit her first, then comes the anger. He speaks to the driver for a second, and then the partition is rolling up again.

The car feels ten times smaller and itching of her dress is long forgotten. She wants to ask him what happened, why he dragged her out of there like an insubordinate child, but he's busy typing on his phone, making hushed calls as though a whisper wouldn't travel the few feet of space between them. His chest heaves, small tufts of hair peaking through the now open buttons of his shirt, the once neat tie hanging loosely from his collar.

He barely looks at her the whole time. Even as he helps her out of the car, or guides her into the elevator, or pushes open her front door, bolting it behind them. She throws off the heels the moment she steps into the large living room, knocking an ornament sideways. Not even that gets his attention.

"Sunshine secured." He speaks into his wrist, a small undetectable microphone hidden in one of the cufflinks. Sunshine. She remembers it like yesterday, the first time he'd called her that. She'd stumbled into the kitchen after a late night, barely acknowledging the hulking man sat at the island. She remembers the exact moment his eyes met hers with that all consuming gaze and the slight quirk of his lips as he studied her from head to toe, then in that deep texas drawl, uttered morning sunshine.

She had quickly come to learn it was not as endearing as it seemed. Joel doesn't do endearing.

There's a growing urge to throw something, at a wall or at him is still undecided, so she crosses her arms across her chest instead. She calls out his name, though it falls on deaf ears, his nose buried in that stupid phone of his. She tries again, and again until throwing something doesn't seem like such a bad idea anymore. Finally, he grants her the privilege of his attention and she considers for a moment, if that's all she wanted. Not answers, just his acknowledgement. He raises an eyebrow, his nonchalance pushing her over the edge.

"What was that?" It comes out as a high pitched shout, rather than the calm and controlled manner she had hoped.

Once again, he quirks his brow saying nothing any everything . This doesn't concern you, or are you really that stupid?

"Joel, you just threw a drink on someone and dragged me out of a room filled with hundreds of people. You would think that warrants an explanation!"

He has the nerve to huff and shake his head, shoving the buzzing phone in his pocket and takes a step towards her.

"You want an explanation." He eyes her again, focusing on the slow curve of her dress. "There was a threat. I eliminated it."

She scoffs, "You were being a dick."

"I was doing my job."

"Oh that's what it was! Your little tantrum was you doing your job?" She's aware that she's now the one throwing a tantrum, not that she cares when he's acting so high and mighty, as though the status of his role outweighs her own peace of mind.

"Go to bed." His phone buzzes again, he ignores it. "It's been a long night and I have a bunch of shit to deal with."

"Are you being serious right now? You just humiliated me in front of everyone. Was carrying me down the steps really that necessary?" If she was itching to throw something a few minutes ago, she's desperate now. Maybe her shoe, right in his face.

"He would've done a lot worse Sunshine, now go to bed." For fucks sakes.

"No! Not until you tell me what is going on."

He sighs, pinching the small bump along the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a moment. He does this a lot, when he's trying not to yell at her or even better still, quit his job. He shoots her a pointed look.

"If you weren't so busy flirting with your little boyfriend, you would've noticed him slipping something in your drink." His words are met with a long silence, and the space between them seems to stret even further.

The dress feels tighter, and she wobbles a little, though this time she can't blame it on the shoes. She was wrong. He hasn't humiliated her in front of everyone, he'd done it in her own home.

"Unzip me." Her voice is clipped. She's not sure if she wants to scream or cry. Maybe both. He hesitates for a moment, but then he's there right behind her pulling the zip down so torturously slowly, the soft brush of his knuckles on her skin threatening her with a shiver. She almost hates herself for it.

He steps back, but she doesn't face him. The dress slides off easily, leaving her in barely anything not that she cares. She's already humiliated herself enough, what's another notch in the belt? She gathers up the crumpled fabric, wanting nothing more than to throw it in the bin, and walks down the hall pausing at her door. She turns to him. She refuses to let him have the last word, he doesn't deserve it, not tonight. With tears already threatening her voice and Joel's beyond sour mood she's not sure she cares much either. Making sure to look directly into his eyes, she bares herself, lets him see the hurt he has caused.

"Fuck you."

She makes sure the door slams behind her, leaving him alone in the dark.

[xreaderbooks]

Paradise on Earth (19)

Chapter: 19. Trapped

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Summary: The hunt for the cross continues as it's stolen from the pogues, y/n and her friends go on a chase to save it, and now Sarah.

Warnings: language, violence, car accidents, kidnapping, not fully proofread

Word Count: 2.5k

Links: Wattpad - AO3 - Playlist

Chapter 18 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 20

The next few hours were a blur, everything happened so fast, you couldn’t process it through the tears and anxiety. Pope had fallen, and the cross came soon after- you all successfully dodged it, but as you were figuring out what to do with the cross and how to carry the heavy-ass pure gold cross, Pope had an allergic reaction to the wasps that stung him.

JJ’s cousin Ricky came in clutch giving him a pediatric dose of epinephrine, it had everyone freaking out for a couple half an hour on whether or not he was going to make it. Thankfully he was revived but unfortunately because of how hyped up he was due to the side effects, he insisted and driving and crashing Kie’s dad's truck straight into an oak tree.

So much for him ripping the ears off of everyone inside of the car. 

After everyone safely exited the car John B tried stopping him from getting run over by a semi, you noticed the person driving the truck and the person in the passenger seat as Rafe and Renfield who were driving from the direction of the church.

It was gone.

Pope was pissed as hell but coming back to the church and not seeing that cross there had lit a fire of determination in him. You all went straight to the Chateau for the Twinkie and drove back to the road where the accident happened.

“Oh shit!” Kie groaned. “They found the truck.”

Several police cars blocked off the road where it was, John B had no other choice but to stop as Shoupe approached the van.

“Good evening, Officer,” John B squinted as the cop pointed the flashlight into the car.

“Sheriff,” He corrected.

“Speed kills, huh,” John B joked about the scene of the totaled truck.

“I pulled the tags and I know whose truck that is,” Shoupe pointed the flashlight through the driver's seat window and to the back of the truck where Kie was sitting behind the passenger seat in a ball, hiding from view. “Hey, Kie! You drop your weed pen back there?”

“Found it,” Kie gave Shoupe a thumbs up with a weak smile.

Pope who was behind John B’s seat, spoke up between the headrest and the door, “Sheriff, I just wanna say that this is all my fault. She had nothing to do with this, I take a hundred percent full responsibility.”

“Nothing to do with it, huh?” Shoupe scoffed, “You wanna try that again? Your parents reported the truck missing four hours ago and the keys were missing from the house, I’m taking you home or I can pull you all in for leaving the scene of an accident.”

You exhaled stressfully and rubbed your temples, not one day, not one day without a break.

“I gotta deal,” Kie gave you a ‘save me’ look. You sent her a pitiful smile knowing that it wasn't going to go down well for her. “Hit me up later and make sure I’m still alive.”

The rest of you would have to retrieve the cross without her.

The truck that carried the cross had just pulled up to the Cameron house as the five of you did.

“How much you wanna bet Rafe has the cross inside that truck right now?” Pope comments as you all peer over the concrete wall to get a better look at what was going on.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Sarah walks in the direction of the front gate. John B goes after her and catches her before she’s gone.

“Jesus Christ,” You facepalm and lean your head against the wall. You hear Pope and JJ make their own comments in protest of wasting time for declarations of love.

Pope whispers to him as John B limps back to you, JJ, and Pope with a dopey smile, “Do you want me to perform your vows while you’re at it?”

“Did you say ‘be safe’?” JJ asks.

“Could you take any longer?” You drawl out sarcastically. Part of you was actually bitter about your own love life and part of you was concerned about the time frame for whatever Sarah had planned, “What is she doing?”

You could make out her figure sneaking around the truck and shrugging, you could see barely hear her whisper something about keys. You whisper shout for her to come back but she points to the inside. All of you try signaling for her not to but she goes in anyway.

“I told her not to go inside,” John B says.

“Do the birdcall,” Pope tells him, though you're not sure that would help since she was already through the glass doors.

John B cups his hands around his mouth to make Coo-Coo sound but with his hesitation, it sounded nothing like it was supposed to.

“That is not what a bird sounds like,” You judge.

“You try doing something better then.”

“Too late, dipshit, she’s already inside. Maybe next time I’ll do a detailed demonstration for you.”

“Whatever, I’m going over,” John B uses the strength from his arms to push himself up from the top of the wall but a horn was honking from the street. You turn and see the headlights from a golf cart roll up.

“Uh, excuse me, can I help you?” An old white man with a shotgun stops where the four of you were caught in the act of going halfway up the wall. He cocked the gun and chuckles, “I got double-aught bucks in this thing, so, I can’t miss.”

He steps out of the slow vehicle and warns you all to get off the wall, you slip down it with your hands in the air, anxiety creeping in. What if he called the cops? What if he made you all confront Rafe? What if he shot you?

“Sir, It’s not what it seems,” JJ speaks up beside you.

“You all are on the wrong side of the island.” He keeps the long gun pointed at you as he tells you all to get on your knees, “I think I’m gonna call the police.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir,” JJ pleads calmly.

“I’ll decide for myself what I need to do.”

“Sir, Can I just talk to you for a minute?” You stutter a little nervously, there was a chance he would believe a girl more than he would the boys, so you would have to fabricate a story. “Just to explain.”

You get up from your knees slowly, John B tugged at your flannel but you ignored him. “I know what this looks like, but I promise this is all a misunderstanding. We look like some derelict kids from the cut but we weren’t that to Mr. Cameron, he gave me and my brother a job, I did some housework for him and his wife, and my brother did some yard work along with my boyfriend, and our friend. See I’m just going along with their plan to get an associate of theirs, s-some row flowers for his memorial.”

He lets his gun falter, “Now why are you three boys letting this poor girl do all the talking?”

JJ struggles to get himself up from the kneeling position as you back up into his place, “Sorry, sir, you’re right. She’s right, we’ve just had such a hard time dealing with his death-”

You tune out the story he tells the old man who let his guard down with every lie that slipped out of his mouth. In the time JJ came up with a ridiculous tale about where the flowers you were all going to ‘plant for Mr. Cameron’ came from and why it was relevant, Sarah had still not come back. You were getting antsy but you couldn’t let it show in front of the man that was eating up JJ’s lie.

“You smell that right?” JJ asks the man.

He sniffs, “What is that, night-blooming jasmine?”

“No, that’s more like,” JJ thinks about it for a second, he knows nothing about flowers or plants. “Natural Viagra.”

Your eyes widen, “Okay!”

The boys beside you try to get JJ to stop now but the old guy seemed genuinely interested which concerned you more.

“One sniff and bam!” JJ claps his hands, “It’s hammer time you know what I’m saying. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Your jaw drops, one of his arms goes around your shoulders pulling you closer and the other leads the man to his golf cart, like a couple walking out the last guest from a dinner party. John B grabs your wrist and pulls you from under JJ.

“We’ll be quiet, alright, and we’ll finish up here. I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“See that you do,” He seats himself back into the cart and drives off muttering to himself. “I gotta get myself some of that.”

Once he was out of view, JJ hops over the wall, “Let’s go.”

“What the fuck,” You whisper to yourself.

“What the fuck was that for real,” John B helps you climb over before going himself. The four of you hide behind the bushes trying to get a peek or a sign of Sarah anywhere. Rafe comes out of the same doors Sarah once went in.

John B surges forward only to be pulled back by Pope and JJ. “What do we do then?”

“He might have the gun so what’s in our favor?” JJ snaps his fingers to think, “The element of surprise, that’s what’s in our favor right now.”

“He’s leaving, there's not much you can do there,” You tell them. Pope whispers something and seconds later he’s running after the truck and jumping onto whatever he can grab on. “Has everyone lost their minds?”

“We got the house now that Rafes gone, let's storm the fort.”

Noise from the front door caught your attention, Rose and Wheezie had Sarah’s arms around their shoulders. If Sarah wasn’t moving they must have done something to her to knock her out.

“Let’s go!” John B shouts at you and JJ, running after Rose’s car.

“This is so fucked,” You run to the Twinkie to follow after them because there was no way they were going to get Sarah out. John B and JJ were running back as you slowed down for them to get in.

~~~

The sun rose for the next day as John B tailed Rose’s car to where they loaded up ships with cargo. You parked in a semi-discrete area and snuck behind the slow-moving semi that stopped for a security check.

While the guard was busy talking to Rafe, you, JJ, and John B snuck through the metal gate and weaved through large materials meant to fix or be put on the ships. You hide behind some large rusted metal thing that you couldn’t name, watching Rafe proudly talk to the other guys around him.

“God, I hate that guy,” JJ exhaled.

You shifted your attention to where Rose’s car was parked, Sarah was being brought out of the car.

“JJ, we gotta come up with a plan,” John B anxiously stares at the boy. Once again, it was you three alone, probably the worst trio combined. JJ with his plans, John B with the follow-through, and you with the backup in case anyone (meaning either of them) needed it.

“I know, I’m working on it. If we get over to that barge, we go over, we’ll have to get into the water though.”

“That’s fine,” John B replied.

“Then we’re gonna be sitting ducks.”

“It’s like you say you’re thinking but then what comes out of your mouth has no thought behind it at all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to get it approved by you first, princess.”

“Apology not accepted, you’re plan sucks, and Sarah’s gonna die,” You clutch your head. “How about-”

“Howdy,” A feminine voice comes up randomly behind you and you almost jump out of your skin.

“Holy shit, girl I almost bitch slapped you to yesterday!” Your hands that were clutching your head were now on your chest. You hug Kie in relief at seeing her alive and present despite the shit her parents gave her.

She chuckled, “Had you scared shitless.”

“How’d you guys find us?” You saw Pope come from the same place she did.

“Geo-located your phone.”

“Smart.”

Observing the state of Pope, John B asked what happened.

“Rafe, Round 3.”

“You freaking kidding me?” JJ grabs Pope to face him but he moves out of his hold.

“This was a tie, is that the cross?”

“Yep, they’re holding Sarah hostage,” John B informs Pope and Kie of the new development.

“We gotta get on that boat, but first we gotta get past the goon squad.”

“Okay, come on,” John B waves over for everyone to follow him but there was no plan. Pope doesn’t move from his spot.

“I have an idea, just trust me.”

John B tries to stop him but Pope reassures him that he’ll meet up with the group after. You just hoped he didn’t get caught in whatever he was planning but then again Pope was smart, he wouldn’t do anything to create attention to himself.

Not a second after you thought about how calculated he was, there was an explosion in the direction where he went. All the crew members bolted to the explosion sight.

“What the hell was that?” You ask Pope who panted from his running.

“That container’s going on the ship, we can get in that way,” He pointed. Thanks to his huge distraction, the path where he was directing you all, was free.

“Poopy, you badass!” You pat him on the shoulder, hyping yourself up to make a run for the said container.

At the entrance of the metal box, JJ pauses, “Did we think this through?”

Pope nods assuredly, “Yes, this is the plan.”

“That’s a trap right there, you see that right?” He points to the container that Pope already climbed on, “We can’t get out once we get in.”

Now that JJ was mentioning it, he was right. This container was going on a ship, God knows where, if you got caught it could be jail time or whatever the punishment was for sneaking onto a ship illegally. Not to mention if Rafe or Rose found you, that would be an execution itself.

“You guys don’t have to come,” John B has a hand on JJ’s shoulder and a hand on yours.

“Right, this is our fight,” Pope agreed.

Doubt clouded your loyalty, but you shook it away. Your friend was on the ship, your brother was going, and Pope needed the support to get the cross. It wouldn’t be fair to leave them now after all you had been through together.

JJ looks to Kie, “Nothing to lose?”

“Nothing to lose.”

John B climbs into the container, Pope helps Kie in.

“All in?” JJ climbed into where Pope once was and reached out a hand for you to take. You slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you up.

Your bodies almost colliding from the momentum of you coming up, your faces inches apart in a second your eyes flicker to his lips, “All in.”

“Y/n, JJ, let’s go!” John B shouts. The sound of heavy footsteps that were no doubt the crew member returning to their posts. You and your friends hide at the very end of the container, behind the dozens of stacked crates.

You saw the sunlight fade as the worker closes the container shut.

~~~

One more chapter to go til season 2 is complete!!

Chapter 20

Taglist:

@jbassettjmaybank - @deanwherescas - @thtbwltts - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @random-girl-army - @wisegirlies - @instabull - @sexyfoxlady - @bubs-world - @sdawn03 - @mendesclines - @obx-pogues-4-life - @mentalforfics - @p-prettybitch - @namacissi - @dczedhee - @inkandpen22 - @royalavenger - @ayeitsjustmee - @80strashbag - @onlyangel-444 - @freds-slut - @poppet05 - @itsjuststaticnoises - @ahnneyong - @lovepizza567 - @jasminfelling - @rana03 - @loki-loveer - @rana030 - @lostinatimeline - @boldlypessimistic - @clinelyn - @a-j-stuffs - @yunhobug - @syd223sworld - @strawberry--fawn - @mysticalavenuecheesecake - @itsmytimetoodream - @natashtessabeth12 - @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

(If your name is crossed that means tumblr wont let me tag you)

[ladylooch]

The Spiral [Lio Meier] - Part 4

A/N: One more part after this! things are starting to turn around for our Lio 🤭

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: allergic reaction, lots of medical talk, angst, childhood trauma themes

ICYMI Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The morning after his concussion, Lio thinks it would have been better to have been crushed by a garbage truck. His head hurts so bad, worse than any hangover headache or migraine he’s had in his life. But worse than that is the fog that has settled into his brain. Details of last night are fuzzy- the game, Lucie, their conversation. He thinks things are better, but is worried about facing her this morning.

He rolls over to his back, tentatively opening his eyes. The world doesn’t swirl like it had been last night. But he feels like the front of his forehead is going to explode off from the pressure. Is that normal? Fuck.

Slowly, Lio adjusts his position to sit up. The smell of something baking hits his nose. He smiles. Lucie is still here. It takes awhile before Lio can get out of bed, changed, and hit the bathroom. By the time he is done with that, he feels like he could go back to sleep. Instead, he drags himself towards the kitchen. Lucie is at the stove, a large stack of pancakes to her left. As he gets closer, he can see the rainbow sprinkles poking out of the cakes.

“Lucie pancakes.” He chuckles, approaching her.

“They still hit even as an adult.” She shrugs.

“Doesn’t Stell think these are her creation?”

“Yeah because of her dad.” Lucie rolls her eyes. “Connor thinks she created everything, even though I made these all the time when I was pregnant with her.”

“So he thinks because she was there, she made them?”

“He thinks she created the craving for me, so it’s from her.” 

“Your mom could set that straight.”

“Mmm, I don’t think anyone can set that man straight about his sweet girl.” Lucie takes off two more pancakes. “Sit down and eat. You look awful.”

“Thanks.” Lio mumbles, resting his head delicately in his palm. He sets his elbow on the counter watching as Lucie slaps two pancakes on his plate. “Still hate syrup?”

“Yep.” Lio confirms, picking up his fork to cut into a pancake.

“I heard from Ben. He wanted you to check in when you got up.” Lio nods, grabbing his phone.

While he eats small bites, him and Ben talk about how Lio is feeling. Ben is concerned about the intensity of Lio’s headache. He wants him to go to the hospital for a CT scan. 

“Can you send a car? Lucie needs to go home to her family.” 

“No, I can take you.” She says, waving away his worries. “Con is taking Stell to the rink for practice. She is loving her mommy-free life right now.” Ben and Lio chat more. The team doctor is going to meet them at the hospital and they will know more after the imaging is processed.

Lucie and Lio finish breakfast, then head into Newark. Lucie waits while Lio is being scanned and afterwards while they wait for the radiologist to do a quick read. Everything looks good. Lio’s brain isn’t showing any damage, but he does have one hell of a concussion. The news is good. Lio feels like he can breathe and be more at peace with where he is at.

“You’re going to have to take it easy.” The doctor reminds him. “At least two weeks before you do any exercise.” Lio agrees. He can’t imagine getting on the ice right now with how shitty he feels.

“Is it okay if I drop you off and head out?” Lucie asks Lio when they are back in the car. “Connor is going to the Children’s Hospital to see some of his kiddos. I need to get home before he leaves again.” 

“Yeah, I will be fine. Thank you for staying with me. And.. um tell Connor thanks too. I appreciate it. Know he isn’t my biggest fan.”

Lucie drops Lio in front of his building, then heads back towards her city. Lio’s doorman greets him warmly, opening the big door for him.

“Thanks, Charlie.” 

“Tough one last night, Mr. Meier.”

“Hey, boys pulled out the win tho.” Lio waves as he walks through.

“Your mama is waiting for you in your apartment. She was mighty frazzled this morning.” Lio stops in his tracks. There are two people who have unlimited access to his apartment besides him. One just dropped him off. The other lives in Switzerland. 

“Ah, thanks. Moms…” Lio trails off with a shrug. 

Lio seriously contemplates sprinting out of his building. Doctor’s orders be damned. The only woman to ever love him unconditionally is upstairs and he is not ready to face her. Not ready to see her after the horrible things he said to her. Not ready to face his own shame and self-hatred. It’s why he left Switzerland without seeing her even after telling his dad he wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t deserve her or her love. 

But she is here. Already. He knows how many hoops she must have jumped through to get to him. He senses his dad’s involvement as well. The strings Timo Meier would have pulled for her are unlimited. So Lio Meier gets into the elevator and rises the 6 floors to his awaiting fate. Outside his apartment door, he takes a deep breath, then puts his key in the lock. He pushes the door open, not seeing her on the couch like he expected. 

“Mama?” He calls into the apartment. 

“Lee?” He hears her call from deep inside. She comes rushing out of his room. With zero hesitation, she grabs him and wraps him into her body for a hug. “Oh” She sighs, holding his head against hers. She sucks in a deep breath then lets out a relieved sigh at having him close to her. “Are you okay?” Her brown eyes are deeply pained. Lio closes his eyes, unable to see more. 

“Um, well, I guess but also no. What are you doing?”

“Your laundry.”

“Of course.” He chuckles, shaking his head. He has been grown for awhile, but she still insists on taking care of him. It makes Lio less worried for whatever is to come.

“Well, I was very anxious waiting for you. I had to do something.” She insists, waving a hand in front of her face. “Now, go sit down. I have lemon water, hot oatmeal and toast ready for you.” She gently guides him forward. “And vitamins. You need extra nutrients to get better.”

“Mama.” Lio sighs when she turns to head back to the kitchen. He feels like such a piece of shit with how she is jumping right in to take care of him. The undeserving suffocates him, tightening his throat until he struggles to breathe. “Don’t do this.” He finally chokes out. “Don’t double down and love me harder right now.”

“Lee.” Emma comes back to him, putting her hands on his cheeks. She kisses his forehead, right over where his head aches so badly. “I am never going to stop loving you hard or taking care of you. I’m your mother.” She runs her fingers through his hair, then moves back into the kitchen. His blue eyes follow her.

“Is dad here?”

“Yes, of course. Boys are with Uncle Neeks and Auntie Lex, but Livy is coming this weekend.”

“You both didn’t have to come and Liv needs to stay in California. She has school.”

“Mmm, but we did.” Emma looks over her shoulder at him. “We needed to see that you were going to be okay.”

“Dad isn’t here now?” Lio looks down the hall towards his bedroom.

“No, we felt like it’s you and I that need to talk. Not the three of us.” Lio looks away. “Don’t be mad at daddy. It was me. He didn’t want to do it.” Lio’s blue eyes find her again in the kitchen.

“You don’t get to tell me to not be mad at him.” He whispers.

“Probably not. But I love your dad very much and if I can save him from your wrath, I want to.” 

Lio goes to the couch, sitting down, laying his head back on the top. He is exhausted from his morning. He feels the air of his mom coming around the couch. She puts her hand on his forehead, smoothing the wrinkle of distress there. 

“What’s the news?”

“Concussion.” Lio mumbles. 

“Is your brain okay?”

“Yes.” Emma sighs in obvious relief. Her hand drops to his shoulder. She strokes her hand there, quietly contemplating where to go next. When Lio opens his eyes, she begins.

“Lio, daddy and I love you more than I even know how to say. I never thought I would have to find words to express how much and I’m deeply sorry that you’ve been so hurt.” She sighs, running her hand through her hair, then looking out the floor to ceiling windows to the city. His apartment is only a few blocks from where her and Timo lived when she was pregnant with Lio. That feels like so long ago, but she tries to go back to who she was then to give Lio more insight into their life.

“I was the one who wanted to fudge your story. I know daddy told you that this summer, but he doesn’t know all of the things that went into that. You and I had experiences when you were a baby that made me feel very protective of you. People judged. They were horrible and social media made our life so accessible, even as Daddy and I tried to hide you. But this was never because we were ashamed or didn’t love you.” Disgust and substantial disagreement scrunches Emma’s nose. “It was the exact opposite.” Emma puts her hands on her cheeks for a moment, then continues.

“When you were 10 months old, the Devils were playing in the Eastern Conference finals. Daddy was hurt. He was playing through it as he always does, so he wasn’t performing very well. People were upset.” Lio watches his mom become increasingly uncomfortable. “You and I were out at a store after the Devils went down in the series. There was an incident in public where someone came up to you, a little baby, and called you that name…” Emma closes her eyes. “They went on to literally blamed the entire playoff situation on the fact that you were born out of wedlock. Daddy’s play as well. We were being punished for our sin of having you.”

Lio can see how much this still hurts his mom decades later.

“I’m sorry, mom.” He says sincerely. 

“That person got to me.” Emma shakes her head. “I felt you deserved a better story. A more picture perfect story because of how much joy and purpose you brought to our lives. I..” She sighs. “I felt like we ruined your childhood before it had even really begun. I tried to fix it the way I knew how. Instead I hurt you.” 

“But Lio, please know, I have loved you since the moment I knew of you even when I was crying on a bathroom floor. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to figure it out for you. When I got up off that tile, whatever decision daddy wanted wasn’t going to shake my decision. You were coming because I wanted you. It would be me and you against the world.” Emma stops, looking at him, then she chuckles. “But daddy wasn’t going anywhere. He was all in. He loved us so much. You’ve seen the videos from when I was pregnant with you. Nothing about that was forced.”

Lio remembers the one of his dad laughing hard as a three week old Lio tried to latch onto Timo’s big chest. The pictures of him on the ice at The Rock for the first time in skates that looked massive on his feet. Tons of videos of Lio and Timo napping together the year of the Devils first cup run. He looks across his apartment at a picture of his parents and him with the cup. It was only Lio and them at that time. Well, his mom was pregnant with Livy, but they barely knew that. Although the most difficult to win trophy in sports is right there, his dad’s hands are on a young Lio, engulfing him and his mom in his sweaty equipment.

“It felt like a lie.” Lio hears himself say. He gestures to the picture. Emma follows his gaze. “Like it looked like that. But then you and dad would make a comment about wanting me so bad you couldn’t wait and my whole life felt like a lie.” Emma swallows hard, nodding.

“I see that now, Lee. I’m very sorry. But that was real. That was our life, baby.” She reaches for his hand.

“It hurt me.” He whispers. Emma winces, then runs her hand up his arm to squeeze his shoulder.

“I know. I am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Emma purses her lips together, then looks at Lio with tears in her eyes. She brushes her thumb over the hairs behind his ear. “So loved. So wanted. Never a mistake.” Lio nods, then reaches to hug her. They hold one another tightly. 

“Love you, mama.” Lio inhales heavily. “I can see how you wanted to protect me.” 

“I love you, Lee. So much sweet boy.” When they pull apart, Emma stands to grab Lio more water, then comes back to the couch.

“She wasn’t even pregnant.” Lio confesses. “False positive.” 

“Oh.” Emma blinks. This is the first time she is hearing this. “How does that make you feel?”

“Relieved.” Lio answers honestly. “More than any of the other reasons I said this summer… I just don’t want kids, mama.”  Emma nods. She has suspected so for awhile. 

“It’s your life. You get to decide. But you need to be more careful because at some point, it becomes not your choice.” 

“Kay, pot.” Lio jokes with a light-hearted smirk. Emma tisks, chuckling and smacking Lio’s leg.

“Don’t slut shame your mother. You didn’t see how good James Bond looked that night.”

- - -

A brisk and skin drying wind has picked up on the East coast in the middle of November. Old man winter is roaring its way to the East coast with a winter storm warning in effect beginning tomorrow. With the impending weather, things are sure to get dicey in the booming metropolis of New York City. Despite the lingering effects of his concussion agitating him today, Lio is currently being dragged from room to room in the Bubble Planet by Stella Wood.

“This way! This way!” She yells, struggling to pull his heavy weight with her little body.

“Stell, I’m coming. Just chill.” He laughs.

“She doesn’t know that word. She’s three.” Lucie jokes back to him. 

They weave through room after room, each one more exciting than the last. Stella is having the time of her life, especially when she is on Lio’s shoulders, getting to touch the bubbles falling from the ceiling.

“Mama, this is the best day! I wish daddy could come!” Lucie and Lio avoid looking at each other, just like they avoid the giant elephant that is Connor Wood between them.

Although Lucie and Connor have discussed more about what happened this summer, he is not ready to move on. It got particularly heated when Lucie asked if Stella could see Lio. Connor questioned Lucie’s motives, worried about the implications and confusion Stella would have about Connor not being there. These were fair and valid points, but her inquisitiveness hurt less than her tears about missing Lio.

“Baby, you do what you need to do, but I’m not interested in spending time with him or fixing this. I’ve made concessions along the way. This is where I am at. Stell stays here with me.” 

Lucie respected that. She dropped it completely. But suddenly the next morning, Connor had given her quiet permission for her to bring Stella to breakfast with Lio. That was a month ago. Connor heads to the rink on days when his girls are meeting up with Lio, always having an excuse about training or treatment or nutrition. Lucie kisses him extra hard on those days, wanting him to know she loves him deeply and understands so much of this is difficult for them.

Now, as she watches Stella up on Lio’s shoulders, all she can fathom is the immense hole Connor’s absence brings. 

“Baby, are you getting hungry?” Lucie asks her daughter as they bop out onto the New York avenue.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“You had that for dinner last night.” Lucie laughs.

“She is a good Swiss girl!” Lio nods approvingly. 

“Her favorite is Kraft.” Lucie points out.

“We’ll work on it. She’s three, ya know.” He jostles Lucie’s shoulder, then immediately regrets it at the way the world swirls upright for a minute. “Oof.” He rubs at his temples.

“Careful, Lee. No setbacks.” Lucie cautions, gripping his shoulder.

The three of them head a few blocks down to a diner, settling into a red booth with huge, plastic menus and a coloring page for Stella. Lio sits on her side of the booth, taking turns coloring a troll in a field of daisy. 

“Not pink!” Stella scrunches her nose, pushing Lio’s hand away.

“What? You said I could pick any color.”

“Yeah, any one but pink.”

“You love pink?”

“When I was two.”

Lucie and Lio both snort, attempting to pursue their lips to keep their laughter in. Stella Wood is an absolute hoot. 

“Can I share a milkshake with you?” Lucia asks Lio.

“I was gonna share with Stell.” 

“Oh, I see how it is.” She raises her eyebrows then looks away with a smirk at her menu. She decides on a simple Strawberry shake. “Stell, do you want to share with uncle Lee?”

“Yeah.” 

“Which flavor?”

“Reese’s! His favorite!” 

“No, you can’t have those, baby. You’re allergic to peanuts.”

“No peanuts in there?”

“Yes, there is peanut butter.” Lucie calmly reminds her.

“Sorry, Uncle Lee. I get sick.” She pats her little pot belly. 

“It’s okay. I was thinking chocolate.”

“Oh yes.” The little girl sighs happily.

The waitress comes and takes their orders. The adults grab cheeseburgers with fries while Stella happily exclaims she needs Mac and Cheese. The waitress practically swoons out of her Keds at how sweetly Stella thanks her for going to get their food. More coloring is done and a quick few games of hangman using three letter words like cat and dog and hat. Stella is getting so good at her ABCs. The milkshakes come out first. Stella watches in awe as the shake is split between two cups for her and her uncle.

“You gonna be able to finish that?” Lio asks. 

“Mhm.” Stella nods enthusiastically. With one hand she grabs the glass while the other helps her balance on the table top. She sucks up the milkshake quickly, then sputters, coughing. 

“Oh, that was a big sip. It’s cold, huh?” Lucie chuckles, handing Stella her water glass. She holds it up to the little girl’s lips for a sip.

“Ah!” She exclaims. “Mmmm.” She sucks up more of the thick liquid. Lio and Lucie chuckle, watching Stella enjoy her ice cream. Lio leans back farther in the booth, looking across the table at his cousin.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today. I missed this.”

“Me too.” Lucie murmur. Stella coughs again, loudly, then seems to gag. Stella sits up straighter, looking Lucie in the eyes with wide orbs. “Are you okay, baby?” Lucie straightens. Lio sits up as well, reaching out for Stella. She makes a wheezing noise, then sticks her tongue out. 

“Oh my god. Stell?” Lucie covers her mouth, watching a red, angry rash begin to form on Stella’s face. Lio grabs Stella as she begins to sway backward.

“She is very warm.”

“What is going on?” Lucie whispers, she looks around the table then she smells it, the faintest whiff of peanut butter coming from the ice cream in the glass Stella was drinking. “Oh my god. Peanut butter.” She reaches for her purse, fumbling around. “Um.. ohmygod.”

“Do you have an Epipen?”

“Um.” She nods vigorously, beginning to pant herself. Her stomach tightens, fear dashes down her spine. She rips her hands through the contents of her purse, looking for the injection she always carries with her since the first reaction Stella had a few months ago in Switzerland. But it wasn’t like this. It was nothing close to this. 

“Luc, come on.” Lio calls to his cousin, picking up Stella into his arms. “You’re okay, baby. It’s okay!” He tries for a cheery voice as Stella being to sob. “Luc, dump the purse out.” Lucie picks the bag up, emptying it from the handles. Lio sees the EpiPen immediately, tossing the cap off hastily. He does the injection, pausing to watch Stella’s reaction. Her wheezing gets tighter, but she can no longer speak to him or even cry. Lio’s heart is racing in his chest as he watches her struggle.

“Do you have another one?”

“No! It’s with Connor at home.” She shakes her head frantically. “Oh my god. Someone call an ambulance!” Lucie sobs out to the restaurant. In the haste of dumping her purse out, her phone fell underneath the booth. But she is frozen in paralysis. She can’t move. She can’t breathe. She is forced to watch her baby struggle.

Adrenaline takes over Lio like he was injected with the epinephrine. He calculates out where they are in the city, the amount of time it will take for an ambulance to get there and he knows Stella’s chances of making it are slim with how much she is struggling even after her first injection. He has seen this before with a kid in school when they still lived in Jersey. 

“There isn’t time for the ambulance. I’m taking her to Children’s.” The hospital is at the end of the three blocks they walked from Bubble Planet, close to Lucie’s car. Lio secures Stella to his chest and begins to run from the restaurant. He leaves Lucie at the table to scramble her things back into her bag. He runs as fast as his body will go. Stella jostles against his shoulder, going limper and limper and Lio quite literally races against time. 

“You’re going to be okay, Stell. it’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promises the little girl in his arms. 

Tears blur his vision. His concussion rears it’s ugly head, pulsing against his temples and making the sidewalk shift with his blurred vision. He can’t let that stop him. Stella needs him. He pushes his injured and weak body to go harder the next block, dodging pedestrians and cabs in walk ways and dogs on leashes. He hits the emergency entrance of the hospital, screaming for help. 

“Help! Please! My nieces is going into shock! She was exposed to peanuts!” Nurses swarm him, snatching Stell immediately and taking over. 

“Did you give her Epinephrine?”

“How was she exposed?”

“Is this her first exposure?”

Lio answers the questions as best he can. Yes, ingested and no. He looks over his shoulder, wondering when he can expect to see Lucie. But then they are taking Stella away on her bed. Another nurse holds him back as they rush down the hall with her. 

“Sir, I need you to wait in the lobby.”

She is right. He needs to wait for Lucie anyway. But that doesn’t make it easier to turn around. He heads to the doors he just sprinted through, avoiding the gazes of curious onlookers. He walks outside into the cold air. His chest tightens immediately and he turns to the side, looking for something he can vomit into. But then he sees Lucie Wood, rushing down the sidewalk, clutching her purse to her chest, sobbing so loud he can hear every inhale and exhale of her shaking body.

“Luc, they’ve got her.” Lio calls to her. He opens his arms up and Lucie collapses into his body. His shirt is immediately wet from her face. Large hiccups shudder her frame against him. He squeezes her tight, smoothing her hair down. “It’s going to be okay.” Lio whispers to her, hoping that maybe if they chant that together, it will make it real.

Several minutes pass. Lucie continues to sob into Lio’s body, even after he moves her inside to get out of the wind. The doctors come out looking for him, finding him and Lucie together. Stella is stable. They can go see her, but she will need to stay for several hours for monitoring as they had to give her two more injections. Lucie heads right into her daughter’s room, curling up with the little girl who looks drugged and exhausted in the center.

“Mama is here. You’re okay.” She cries to her daughter. Stella is upset and shaken from the ordeal. She clings to Lucie like a monkey, balling her shirt up in her little fists. 

“LuLu, do you want me to call Connor?”

“Yes.” Lucie whispers, barely able to get the word out of her shaking lips. She reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, handing her phone to him. “If you call he won’t answer.” She says simply. Lio tries to brush that off like it doesn’t hurt, but it stings as bad as the wind biting his cheeks during his sprint to the hospital. 

Lio takes a deep breath, then clicks on Connor’s contact. His heart is pounding in his chest like he’s about to take a face-off in the final minute of a trailing game. He licks his lips, leaning agains the wall, waiting on the call to connect.

“Hey baby! I’m just about to leave.”

“Ah.” Lio coughs. “Hey, it’s Lio.”

Silence.

“Where is Lucie?” A definite snap tightens the words through the line. 

“She’s with Stella. She asked me to call you and tell you what is going on.”

“What? Are they okay? What..” 

“Lucie is okay.” Lio starts.

“Stell? Whats wrong with her!?” Connor’s voice is beginning to escalate. “What did you do, Lio?” Connor snaps. Lio closes his eyes. 

“I didn’t do anything. It was a mistake at the restaurant.”

“Fuck!” Connor yells. “Where are you?”

“At Children’s hospital off 34th.”

“You have to tell me what happened, Lio.”

“I’m trying to, but you’re not letting me get much out here, man.” Connor sighs. Lio takes his silence as compliance. “We were out grabbing lunch and she had an allergic reaction and we had to bring her to the hospital. Her Epipen wasn’t enough.”

“Fuck, I have the second one. We usually have the two together, but Lucie and I had plans the other night and…” Connor’s voice is distraught.

“It happens. But you should get down here. They need you.”

“I’m on my way.” 

Lio removes the phone from his ear, looking at the lock screen of Lucie, Connor and Stella. Lio took that photo of them this summer in Switzerland, before everything happened. He sighs heavily, then comes back into the room.

“Connor is coming.” Lio assures Lucie. She doesn’t take her crying eyes off the little girl in her arms. She sniffs and nods in acknowledgement, continuing to touch her daughter’s face soothingly. Lio can’t tell if it’s for Stella or Lucie.

Connor Wood arrives thirty minutes later with squeaking sneakers on the tile floor of the hospital hallway. Lucie and Stella are dozing in an overwhelmed sleep. Lio sits in the chair next to them with one hand on Stella, rubbing her arm. Lucie’s hand clings to his wrist, needing comfort in one of the worst moments of her life. 

“I’m a terrible mom.” She had told Lio tearfully.

“You’re not. It was scary.” 

“What if you weren’t there?”

“It doesn’t matter. I was.”

“Luc! Stell!” Connor rushes into the room then locks in on Lio. He shifts his worried eyes to the bed, seeing Lucie and Stella curled together. His lips pull into a deep frown, then his eyes seemingly dim when he takes in Lio in the place he should be.

“They’re resting, Lucie is pretty upset.” Lio says as he slowly works his wrist out of Lucie’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to see me. I’ll leave now, I just didn’t want to leave the girls alone before you got here.”

“What happened?” Connor asks. Lio can see the way his chest rapidly raises and falls beneath the Rangers logo on his chest.

“Stella somehow got a peanut butter shake at the diner. Wrong order. She had some and started having a severe reaction.” Connor’s face gets ghostly pale. He puts his hand on his head over his blue hat, waiting for more. “Um, Luc, She… she panicked. It was all scary. Truly awful. But I gave Stell the injection, but it didn’t do enough. She became mostly unresponsive.” Connor closes his eyes, bringing his hands to his face in anguish. “There wasn’t time to wait for help, so I grabbed Stella and ran here with her.” 

“You ran?”

“Yeah. Stell didn’t have time.” Lio reiterates. If he is mad at Lio for that, then so be it. Maybe it was reckless, but Lio had to make a judgement call and Stell is going to be okay because of it. Connor stares at Lio. Then suddenly he steps forward around the bed. Lio stands up taller, preparing for anything. Connor wraps an arm around Lio’s shoulders to bring him into his body. Lio brings his hands up, clasping Connor’s back as they share a deep, sincere hug. 

“Thank you.” Connor whispers, tears coating his voice. Lio squeezes Connor tighter, not wanting to let go of his best friend. Suddenly, it hits Lio. How close they were to losing Stell. How dire she had looked when he ran through the doors of the ER. How Lucie had every right to be that terrified at the table. It had been bad. Horrible. Worst case scenario. 

Lio can’t help it. He begins to sob. Everything that has happened the last few months weeps out of him. From losing Savannah, to screaming at his parents, to only having his little sister, to losing the three people in this room with him. His concussion… almost losing Stella on that New York street.

“It’s okay, Lee. She’s going to be okay.” Connor puts his hand on Lio’s head. “You saved our girl.” Lio nods, shuddering as he pulls away. Both men wipe their faces with their hands, then look over to the two girls laying in the bed. Stella has a sleepy grin on her face, watching them.

“Daddy!” She giggles, reaching out to him, flexing and unflexing her fingers for him to come closer.

“Hi baby.” Connor smiles brightly, leaning down to kiss her cheeks. “Can I lay with you and mama?” 

“Yeah.” Stella yawns as she says the word. 

“Sleepy.” Connor chuckles, kissing her again. He curls her and Lucie into his body, trying to be careful not to wake his wife. Lucie jolts up at the feeling of his hands on her. “Me, Luc. It’s me.” She visibly relaxes when she sees her husband. “I’m here.” He brushes her cheek with his thumb. 

Lio watches from the end of the bed, then anxiously rubs at his forehead. He clears his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Um, well I’ll head out so you all can be together.”

“No, don’t go.” Lucie shakes her head. 

“It’s okay, Luc. I’ll see you later.” 

“You should stay with us.” Connor says softly. “We want you here.” The insinuation of the we has the corners of Lio’s mouth sliding up.

Lio makes his way back to the chair by the bedside, sitting down in it. Him and Connor share a look of understanding. Lucie trails her nails along Stella’s back as another big yawn stretches her little mouth. 

“Uncle Lee?” Stella murmurs.

“Hm?”

“You gonna be here when I wake up?”

“Yeah, Stell.” He sighs. “I’ll be right here.”

[miracles-and-butterflies]

For @zuuz-dot-chr-exe, based on the prompt: “Isabela trying to convince Dolores to have a streak of her hair dyied.”

A short one shot of Isabela and Dolores bonding while Isa tries to convince her prima-hermana to let her dye a single strand of hair. Or Isabela might not like showing it but sometimes she still needs reassurance from her family that being imperfect is okay.

Something Unexpected

“No, Isabela.”

It wasn't the first time she heard it and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

Ever since she got her gift back, Isabela had been no stranger to dyeing anything she could get her hands on. From her hair to her dress to her furniture to even her own skin, she would stain in any colour - splattered, several at once or mix up something new. She wasn’t picky. If anything, she liked the mash of colour.

Subsequently, this also meant her family had to adjust to this change too. For the most part, they were on board and very supportive. Many of them would happily join in or offer themselves as victims test subjects. The only real disapproval would come from her mother when she made a mess and refused to clean it, and when she stained a new piece of clothing in front of Mirabel. The nagging over the kitchen and whining of wasted thread aside, Isabela was much happier than she ever remembers being.

She frequently found herself adding dyed strands to the hair of Luisa, Camilo and Antonio. That was where you could find the four Madrigal kids on Sunday morning like today. Not that she is complaining about the arrangement, but… it would be nice to do someone else’s hair. And her one target didn’t seem to have any other response. No matter how she approached the offer.

“Please, Dolores!” Antonio tried, tugging at his sister’s sleeve with hopeful eyes. “It doesn’t hurt or anything, I promise. You’ll look so pretty with your hair done!”

Dolores barely lifted her eyes from her tiple, continuing to strum the tune she was learning.

“Come on, we’re all doing it, sis. Just have Bela put some yellow in.” Camilo kicked his foot at her chair. Unlike Antonio’s flattery and begging, his go-to strategy was always to annoy his sister into doing something. Which got pretty similar results. She didn’t move and instead Casita pushed him aside. “Casita, that’s not fair! It’s not my fault! Dolores is ruining the whole afternoon!”

“Why are you all getting on my case about this? Mirabel isn’t joining in either.” Dolores squeaked.

“Don’t spin this on me,” Mirabel snapped, stopping her embroidery to look up at her accuser. “You know full well I’m allergic.”

“You’re allergic to tree pollen, not flowers, you’re fine!”

Mirabel brushed her forehead curl back, revealing an irritated red patch, a rash from some test Isabela had done. She shot Dolores a challenging look, “Then explain the existence of the allergic reaction I’ve had, Lola.” Dolores rolled her eyes, turning away. Mirabel set her hair back, sighing to herself as she picked up her needle, “Dios, dame fuerzas. Tener la razón todo el tiempo es agotador.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Dolores whispered over.

“Good.” Mirabel hummed.

Luisa, who was sat on Mirabel’s other side, dropped an arm around her sister. “I can’t believe you’d throw this all on her. She is a child and she has a reason to not participate, what the hell is your excuse anyways? Let me guess: the pollen is too loud?” She asked, teasing.

“Oh, you are so funny, Luisa.” She deadpanned.

“One strand of hair, Dolores, that’s all I’m asking,” Isabela piped up, waving the red flower around dramatically. “Come on, I’m your best friend! Your sister-like figure—”

“Do not give me that song and dance again. You did it twice yesterday and I still have a headache.”

“Okay, fine… But, you know, as the eldest grandchild, I’m technically the one in charge, so what I say goes and I say—”

“It’s not going to happen, Isabela.”

Isabela groaned, “Please!? I will literally pay you!”

“There isn’t enough money in Colombia for that.” Dolores countered.

Seemingly giving up, Isabela collapsed back into the chair behind her. Luisa chuckled a bit but didn’t say anything more, happy enough to let this go too. Antonio pouted while Camilo huffed, getting onto his feet he offered his hand to the younger boy.

“Come on, Toñito, let’s go show Mamí and Papa how great our hair looks.” He suggested.

As the two boys ran off in a flurry of multicoloured powder, Dolores contented herself in the relative silence of the room. With a smirk to herself, she returned her focus back on to the instrument in hand. She barely got through the first chord before:

“Okay, your brothers are gone now. It’s just us. You can let me dye your hair now.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please!?”

“No.”

“Pretty please!?”

“No.”

“Bitch,” Isabela spat, slumping over onto the floor.

“Language.” Mirabel said, sing-song.

Luisa was giggling to herself at this point, clearly very entertained by both Isabela and Dolores’ ongoing argument. Even more so now that Mirabel had decided to try mediate the situation or at the very least Isabela’s swearing.

Dolores decided to simply ignore her three cousins, just focus on the song she had yet to finish because of all the interruptions and distractions in this room.

Honestly, she should have picked somewhere else to settle down with her tiple. It has crossed her mind an hour ago but she didn’t think too much of it. After all, they were her family. Her own brothers and cousins, and she did like being in their company. Even if she was just a silent spectator to the chaos of gremlins and Mirabel’s latest embroidery project.

When Isabela brought out the flowers and the boys began bouncing off the walls in hyper excitement and anticipation, she had her cue to leave. That would have been the chance to avoid all of this. Casita even nudged her foot to let her know. And yet… she still didn’t move. She remained in her seat, happily making her way through the chord progressions, enjoying the background noise of the chaos in the room.

“Oh, shut up!” Isabela flung back at her sister. “How would you feel if Luisa turned around and refused to wear your embroidery?”

“I wouldn’t blame her. It is her decision what she wants to wear and my embroidery is a disgrace.”

The laughter stopped very quickly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Luisa exclaimed. “What did Mama tell you about demeaning yourself and your skills, hermanita?”

Mirabel clicked her tongue, just managing to stop herself from rolling her eyes. This wasn’t her first time doing this. She realised where this was going and stopped her work at a sensible place. “Not to do it, even in jest.”

“Exactly,” Luisa nodded. She heaved herself up onto her feet, scooping Mirabel up into her arms and headed for the exit. “Now, we’re gonna go into a quiet space upstairs, hug and discuss why you felt the need to say that, like the responsible and open Madrigal we are. Just know, I am not disappointed in you, just a little concerned at where such bullshit came from!”

“Language.”

“Yep, sorry, Mira. I realised as soon as I said it.”

Her footsteps disappeared up the stairs, leaving the room once again in silence. Quieter than before. Quieter than when she first entered the room.

It wasn’t the same kind of silence. It was the same silence she remembers on the first night after Casita’s collapse, almost a year ago to the day. Uncomfortable, to put it lightly. Different types of discomfort, of course, but somehow still the same. They weren’t pleasant to sit through and it ruined the melody every time she tried to play.

She set the tiple down in the empty spot beside her. Glancing over at Isabela, who had since slumped all the way down to the floor, flickering various petals and leaves into the air from her fingers.

“You don’t really think I don’t support you, do you?”

The petals unceremoniously dropped. Isabela sat up abruptly, coughing them out.

“What?” She asked.

“What you asked Mirabel,” Dolores clarified. “You implied that me not letting you dye my hair was the equivalent to Luisa turning down the embroidery Mirabel spends hours working on. I know you were exaggerating but the point remains; I’m asking if you think that I don’t care or support you.”

Isabela didn’t say anything, still unusually quiet. But the silence was enough of an indicator for Dolores.

As much as Isabela has grown to perfect herself and was a flawless actress, who had the entire town believing every smile was as real as life itself, Dolores had become incredibly sharp at reading people. Hearing everything gave her knowledge which was always an advantage in that process, but after so many years, it pretty much became second nature. So, even though Isabela had everyone else believing what she wanted, she never had and never will have Dolores.

Dolores stepped down, kneeling on the floor beside her cousin, taking her hand. Isabela raised an eyebrow at this.

“Isabela, I do care about you. I’m happy that you get to be yourself and, even though some of your actions are very stupid and downright dangerous, I do support you. I might not always say it or show it, but I do.” She insisted, offering a smile. “Okay?”

Isabela returned the smile, meeting her eyes. “So… can I dye your hair?”

Jesus fucking Christ—

“Fine,” she relented, covering Isabela’s mouth before she could start screaming in excitement. “But this stays between us, Isa. I don’t want my brothers knowing that I can change my mind, I’ll lose my power over them.”

“Whatever you want, Lola.”

[fanfic-obsessed]

Back with the questions!

So Actually Traitors has Dooku getting taken with the Jedi when they leave. What's he doing there? Making trouble, furthering Palps' plan, gradually talking more with the clones and oh no he's attached??

Also. Fox. Is apparently allergic to particular Force acts? It's less that I think this is ridiculous (though it is very funny) and more that I'm wondering what the hell they did? And whether anyone thinks it's weird that they're writing papers on this or if the Archivists/researchers are just like "YES fun none war things to research!"

At first Dooku was supposed to play nice, to gain the confidence of the Jedi, banking on Yoda's love for his lineage. Then his job was to be three fold: 1. to provide Palpatine with information on the Jedi and their movement, so they can plan accordingly, 2. to encourage the idea that the Jedi need to act as the aggressor toward the republic, and 3. to plant the seeds to fracture the Order if necessary.

It never really gets off the ground, primarily because of Obi Wan. Though no one in the Jedi Order ever found out that Dooku was a Sith in this, Obi Wan did make a point of telling Jocasta Nu exactly who vandalized her Archive (in part out of pettiness to head of the Seperatists, in part to direct her attention away from Cody-who had just accidentally broken a data chip with a slightly rare treatise dating from the Old Republic). As a result Madame Nu effectively grounded Dooku- She has restricted his ability to send communications, he is NOT allowed to interact with any Jedi below the level of Knight OR any of the clone cadets or Shinies, and she or a designated guardian would be escorting him everywhere until 'he was mature enough to not destroy other people's knowledge'. No one is really sure that Madame Nu has the authority to ground Dooku (Who is at least nominally still a planetary leader and, strictly speaking, is being held against his will after being abducted by the Jedi Order).

By the time he is no longer grounded he has gotten attached, specifically to Alpha-17. Alpha-17 was one of his more frequent escorts, and the two shared similar opinions on the Senate (In that the application of some generous assassinations' would greatly enhance the atmosphere), Anakin Skywalker (far too too reckless, far too arrogant, and in desperate need to therapy-Dooku never seems to realize the irony of this belief), and a taste for very expensive alcohol. It is Alpha-17 that draws Dooku back to the light.

Dooku eventually goes before the Jedi Council to confess to being a former Sith, to find that no one is surprised. It took precisely two weeks in frequent contact with Dooku for each of the Council to realize he had fallen, but it was decided to see where things would go, and that Dooku's communications would have been monitored (and still would be monitored).

For Fox; he, Ventress, Vos they were experimenting with the use of Jedi mind tricks when compared to Sith mind control in sex. It is all Safe, Sane, and Consenual and heavily discussed beforehand. However it turns out that having both a Mind Trick (Actually three separate mind tricks geared toward increasing Fox's sensitivity and attraction) and Mind Control active at once caused hives for Fox. The baffled healers and medics, who had never hard of that reaction before, also found out that something in Fox's genetic code caused Antihistamine to get him really high.

Th Archivist are ecstatic with the experiments, especially since the Kenobi/Cody Polycule insist on the scientific method. It is the only reason that Madame Nu forgave Cody.

[half-dead-ham]

I've waited this long

Day two of Shipweek is Soulmates! And so I offer the masses a humble Roy Harper/Danny Fenton ship, so rare they don't even have a ship name yet! Upon the offer of one, I may be tempted to make more of this ship, they are a match made in hell imo. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

here's: [Ao3]

Despite how much Danny’s parents invest in the scientific method, they were never one’s to believe in things like ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’. They stood by their ideals that ghosts were real but soulmates were things people imagined so much a market grew for it, despite forty per-cent of the population having one.

 So of course the first thing Danny’s parents did when Danny showed off the white ring he got on his left middle finger was tell him to take it off.

 He told them he couldn’t, of course. Danny didn’t know what soulmates even were, he was only four. When he asked them why, they thought he was playing a prank. They tried to take it off his finger by force, but of course it wouldn't budge. They ran tests and did experiments and theorized and hypothesized and hummed and hawed until they were pulling their hair out.

 And still the ring would not leave little Danny Fenton’s finger.

 They finally settled on Danny having some sort of allergic reaction with the metal and surrounding samples of ectoplasm bonding the ring to his finger temporarily and told him to test it every once in a while to see if it came off.

 And then they forgot about it.

 Jazz found Danny later, curled up and crying on his bed after the whole ordeal. She comforted him, told him what the ring actually was, and said that if he ever did find his soulmate that he shouldn’t bring it up to his parents. He silently agreed, then drifted to sleep in her arms.

~~~~~

    Stupid idiot. Stupid Danny. Why did you follow Rory into a city you didn’t have the map for?

 Danny kicked a crumpled can along the sidewalk, watching it skitter along the pavement as he tried to remember which street he had turned from. He honestly didn’t even want to be here, in a city so far from Amity and his parents, it wasn’t his idea to sign him up for the end-of-school field trip; it was Jazz’s. Danny would rather be back in Amity Park, playing DOOMED with Tucker while they figure out what classes they were most likely to have together in high school.

 Instead he was lost in a city he’d never been to, thanks to his free time buddy, Rory, leading him around after stealing his phone and stranding him without the map they were given. Jackass.

 Another kick to the can sent Danny’s current stress relief straight into a storm drain. Danny froze, staring at the spot it had disappeared, before letting out a sound that was half growl, half groan. Stomping back on his original path, Danny sneered at his sneakers. He was going to murder Rory over this, there were enough tools in their stupid basement for Danny to beat that stupid smirk off that ass and- “Oof!”

 Danny staggered back a step, clutching his nose as he blinked up at what- who- he had bumped into.

 Concerned jade eyes met his lake blue as a boy slightly taller than him rushed to grab his shoulders and stabilize him. He froze, deer-in-the-headlights style as the stranger swept his eyes over the rest of Danny to make sure nothing was damaged.

 “You okay?” The other asked, jolting Danny out of his daze.

 “Uh, yeah, of course!” Danny squeaked out, feeling a small embarrassed flush warm his face.

 The stranger looked down slightly, to Danny’s confusion. He quickly realized he still has his hand over his face like an idiot.

 “Ope- yeah totally okay!” Danny quickly tore his hand away from his face in further embarrassment, really hoping he was right in not feeling any signs to the start of a nosebleed. Just to make sure, he checked his palm, giving a small sigh of relief at not seeing any red, just some light pink on his finger… Wait-

 He spun his hand around, making sure to check if his ring really had turned pink.

 “Holy shit,” the guy in front of him whispered, and looking up Danny could see him inspecting his own pink ring. Maybe he should thank Rory instead of murdering him, the guy led him to his soulmate after all.

 The guy- his soulmate oh god he needed to tell Jazz- looked up to him, stunned and a little awestruck. Danny, for lack of anything else to do, stuck his hand out with a goofy grin as he introduced himself.

 “Hey, my name’s Danny; Danny Fenton. Looks like you’re my soulmate.”

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 So as it turned out, the guy -Roy was his name- was a Star city native. After they made their introductions Danny asked if Roy knew the way back to his hotel. Roy gave him the most confused look he’d seen on him (yet) and told him that he’d almost made it to a completely different part of the city, and “why the fuck are you in the south side to begin with?” And, well Danny sheepishly explained his situation as they started walking the right way back.

 While Roy didn’t say much to his explanation, the brilliant vermillion Danny’s ring turned probably meant that he and his soulmate had the same thoughts about Rory at the moment.

 It was nearing supper time by the time Danny and Roy made it back to the hotel, and Roy was unfortunately witness to the rant Danny’s teacher went on about “Staying with his buddy” and “not following strangers in a large city”. As soon as Roy held their rings up she redacted her last statement with a click of her jaw. Roy then proceeded to explain to Ms. Montal about how Danny’s “buddy” left him stranded in a different part of the city without his phone, and how if Roy hadn’t found him that she might’ve had to resort to calling the police and explain how unsafe it was to have kids running around the city unsupervised.

 Yeah, Danny was definitely glad Roy was with him at that moment. The nice shade of red that tinted Ms. Montal’s face -either in embarrassment over being so thoroughly called out by someone the same age as her students, or seething rage- had Danny moving a hand over his mouth to muffle his suppressed laughter. He didn’t know if it was any help, if the glare that could melt steel he got from his teacher was any indication.

 After they got to watch the lovely conversation Rory had with their teacher for leaving Danny behind, he asked if Roy wanted to come up to his room to talk some more after they had supper. Roy refused, saying he had somewhere to get to and the dinner was already pushing his time into the ‘late’ category. He asked if there was any good time for them to meet up the next day, but again their schedules didn’t line up. Roy asked about the day after, but they couldn't meet then, as tomorrow was their last day in the city.

 Danny stared at his shoes, at a loss for what to do. He really wanted to spend more time with his soulmate now that they’ve met, especially when Roy had so many stories about his mentor/foster father and his screw ups.

 “Well, you have a phone right?” Roy asked. When he nodded Roy’s face split into a grin. “Then you can just give me your number!”

 They ended up trading both phone numbers and emails, just in case. Apparently Roy had just as much of a chance to break or lose his phone as Danny did.

 With one last wave, Roy walked back the way they had come, the light of the dying sun setting his red hair ablaze. With how far apart they lived, Danny wondered if they would ever get to see each other again face-to-face.

 He hoped they would.

~~~~~

  Star City

 August 28th 2006,

15:07 PDT

 While getting a ride back from Oliver's house Roy felt something. He didn’t know what that something was exactly, but it felt like someone just hit him with a live wire and dunked him in a bath of hydrogen peroxide.

 It hurt.

 It hurt like someone haddunked him in acid, slammed him into an electric fence then gave him a million paper cuts and bathed him in lemon juice. It hurt so much he screamed and blacked out.

 Apparently it hurt so much for Oliver to pull the car over, because the next time he could see clearly he was leaning up against the side of the car on the pavement. Olliver was in front of him, worry clear on his face. He blinked as his mentor fretted over him, thoughts not really deeper than ‘god that hurt like a bitch’. 

 A light wind brushed his cheek and the cold stuck in tracks down to his chin. Absently, he brought his hand to his face, feeling the damp trails that led to his chin. Was he crying? He groaned, twitching with aftershocks and trying to think about anything other than the feeling of full body pins and needles he had.

 “Roy,” his mentor called, voice shaken. Why was the Green Arrow so shaken over what just happened?

 Roy looked to his mentor, only to find that Oliver was looking at the hand he had raised to his cheek. Dread settling in his stomach, Roy shakily lifted his hand up.

 The band around his middle finger was charcoal black.

 It felt like someone had just squeezed all the air out of his lungs. It couldn’t- no. Danny was fine.  They had just talked yesterday, he couldn’t be dead! There was no way Danny could have died, it was impossible.

 Roy was shaking now, for a completely different reason than the pain he just felt. He jerkily grabbed the ring between two fingers, desperately trying to- to- to do something! Either to rub the dirt (it was just dirt it had to be Danny couldn’t be dead) or keep the piece of jewelry from crumbling off his finger. It still felt solid, despite its colour being the exact color soul rings turn when a person’s soulmate dies. 

 Desperately he looked to Oliver. He was the adult here, he should know what to do, right? 

 But the stare Roy got back from his mentor was one full of grief and sadness, not the look he got when he was able to help, just loss. Roy’s lungs weren’t drawing in breath. His hand went from his ring to his phone, ripping it out of his pants pocket and dialling the one number he needed to pick up right now. Please Danny please pick up.

 The Dial tone rang once, twice, thrice. The whole time Roy repeated please pick up please pick up please pick up in his head, eyes never leaving the black band on his finger.

 “Roy?” Danny’s voice rasped through the receiver and Roy’s lungs finally caught breath.

 “Holy fuck Danny, are you okay? What happened‽” Roy nearly screamed into the phone, to Oliver's clear shock as he looked between the still black band and the cellphone in Roy’s hand.

 “Nothing,” Danny groaned, clearly still in pain. “I just got a small shock from one of my parents' inventions.”

 “Bullshit,” Roy shot back. “If you call what you got a ‘small shock’ then where the fuck did the police TAZER shoot me from?”

 Another groan from the other end of the line, along with the sounds of hushed voices that he couldn’t make out. Rustling fabric and soft footsteps was all that he listened to for what he thought was too long until Danny spoke up again.

 “Look, I don’t really know what to tell you right now, Roy… I just feel like I got hit by a train and everything’s still kinda…” Danny trails off for a moment, making Roy worry that he passed out or something, but a sigh fills the call with static and then Danny’s back. “I just really need a bit to not feel like shit now, Roy. You think I can call you back tomorrow? We can talk more then.”

 Was- wh- is Danny really just brushing all that pain off? Like it was nothing?? Like ‘oh, of course Danny, all you need is a little sleep and you’ll be good to go tomorrow!’ Fuck no, thats not how this works!

 Another grunt of pain makes its way through the line, and Roy sighs. ‘Danny is alive,’ he reminds himself, ‘and he’ll still be alive then he wakes up tomorrow’. Even while thinking it the words sound like a lie. The band around his finger is still black. Logically Danny shouldn’t be talking with him at all, he shouldn’t have been able to pick up the call. A small voice in the back of his brain whispers to him, ‘Someone got to him, someone who wanted to use him to get to Green Arrow. That isn’t Danny on the phone, it's a fake’. It's a part he’s afraid to prove right.

 “Sure, Danny. Just- just tell me one thing right now, okay?” He’s practically begging his soulmate -who he thinks is his soulmate- as his voice grows dry. A grunt was all he got in reply.

 “What color is my ring right now?”

~~~~~

 Star City general hospital

 November 12th 2007,

15:07 PDT

 Danny is dead, for real this time.

 Roy doesn’t know when it happened, he’d been taken by Luthor and his goons for the last three months and the whole experience was a bit of a blur, but sometime during that Danny's ring finally crumbled off his finger.

 He sat in the hospital bed, refusing to acknowledge the tears coming from his eyes as he stared at his bare finger. ‘I should’ve been there for him, I should have made sure he was okay.’ His thoughts spiraled as he wished, begged, for the ring to magically reappear on his finger. He prayed to every higher power he could think of to bring Danny back. Just one more day with his stupid texts, his long rants about the stars, his anything. He’d give the world to hear his soulmate's voice again.

 A knock on the hospital room door had him scrambling to wipe his face of tears and clear his voice as quietly as he could.

 “Come in,” he tried not to croak. He could tell it was Ollie as soon as he opened the door, but still he didn’t turn his head.

 “Roy…” His mentor didn’t know what to say either, he almost wanted to scoff. Of course the old man didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know the first thing about having a soulmate. In the end it was something he had to deal with himself.

 They stayed there, silence choking them like a snake coiling around its prey. Roy really didn’t want his old man to see how bad he was taking it, and his old man couldn’t console him for the gaping emptiness he was feeling. So they just did nothing, frozen like a picture in time.

 Finally, a sigh escaped the man behind Roy. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner,” he murmured out. He sounded so broken. And still Roy didn’t turn to face him, he just struggled and failed to keep a sob from escaping him.

 That day Roy told himself to keep the memories he had of Danny close to him, and to never speak about him to anyone again.

~~~~~

Star City

January  19th 2011,

21:25 PDT

 ‘Everything… Was a lie. Everything I knew about myself isn’t real. I was just a pawn, a chess piece for someone else's game.’

 Vandal Savage, that asshole.

Roy (was he even really Roy if he was just a replacement?) was in… not his room. It was Roy’s room in Ollie’s place. It was dark, he didn’t bother to turn the light on when he came in and was just watching the lights of the city from out his window.

 What… What should he do now? He can’t just go on living somebody else's life now that he knows it isn’t his own. That would be wrong, and fucked up even for him.

 But Guardian, he had said that the light didn’t have the real Roy. If the light didn’t actually have him, then where was he? He refused to believe the real Roy was actually dead, those fuckers wouldn’t kill him off after cloning him. It was too easy, to just dispose of a chess piece that still has use? No, they wouldn’t do that…

 Right?

 He stood up and walked to the window, tracing the lights of cars criss-crossing along the roads like lines of ants.

 No. No, he refused to believe the real Roy was dead. He couldn’t be, he would eat his bow before he believed the real Roy wasn’t still out there.

 And Roy was, he would find him.

~~~~~

Washington D. C.

March 8th 2011,

21:07 EDT

Today's search with Jim was a bust, a complete waste of time. Even with the new tech provided by the league, the Wayne Ecogram unit told them the exact same thing as what we already found the last dozen times we went down there. Nothing. Not a scrap or clue or anything.

 He layed in bed on his stomach as he groused over the day. He could still feel that Roy was alive somewhere, like an itch just under his skin. It was telling him to keep searching, look, find him but people were starting to lose faith.

 He was just so tired. He hadn’t moved in hours since he got back, just thinking over what little they knew of what happened. He turned his head so he could see out of the window. The lights still shone from the city outside, people going on with their nights- with their lives- while he was stuck watching as time marched forward mockingly. His neck protested the movement, muscles sore from overwork and the strain of being still for hours making itself known as he finally moved to haul himself into a sitting position.

 On a brighter note, Jim had his lab work come back. They were in the same boat now, both being cloned from the same guy. Though somehow he still felt like they weren’t on the same page.

 Jim already had his own identity, his own self built personality. He wasn’t meant to be a copy of someone, a replacement. No, Jim wasn’t aware of the feeling of getting the rug ripped out from under your feet because you find out (in the worst way possible) that the life you’d been living, the fucking name you used, wasn’t your own. He was blissfully unaware of how that sucker punch to the gut felt, and so it left him alone even with someone like him to understand.

 And he was just. So. Tired.

 But he couldn’t rest.

~~~~~

Star City

November 9th 2011,

17:22 PST

 Ten months.

 It has been ten months since this search had started for the real Roy, and not even the Bats have found anything. The League has resorted to tailing Luthor on rotation for any clues, but they’ve started asking why they were still trying.

 ‘Roy’ had pulled Robin away to Star City with him, so they could go through the original Roy's things. He honestly hadn’t bothered to touch most of the older things in Roy’s room, he was too focused on the mission at the time to care for whatever little civilian interaction he had kept for convenience. It had taken some convincing, but Robin at least saw how hard he was working.

 “Dude, when was the last time you checked your inbox?” The Boy Wonder asked as he scrolled through old emails and spam on a laptop he had found buried under a clothes pile.

 “A while,” he drawled sarcastically as he searched an old box of trick arrowheads. Honestly why did he even have these in here?

 Robin continued to scroll as he quickly lost interest with the box, shoving it off his lap in frustration and moved to pick through the bottom of Roy’s closet. Quiet settled for a while, with only the occasional sounds of ‘Roy’s grunting and the clicking of the laptops trackpad keys.

 “Hey Roy…” He turned to look at the Boy Wonder as he read something from the laptop, eyebrows scrunched together behind his pointless sunglasses. “Since when did you have a soulmate?”

 The question struck him like an arrow to the heart, making him straighten where he sat. He had almost forgotten by now that he- Roy- had had a soulmate before he went missing. A wave of sadness washed over him as he realised Roy would never be able to see Danny again.

 “I don’t,” he replied softly, unsure of how to feel over those memories. “Danny died sometime while I was kidnapped by Luthor, I didn’t know about it until I was in the hospital.”

 “Who told you that?” Robin asked cautiously, eyes going back and forth from the screen to his face.

 “I…” He… couldn’t remember. He could’ve sworn it was Ollie, but he couldn’t remember having the conversation- with anyone. Just the immense feeling of loss afterwards. But it was something so important to him- to Roy- why couldn’t he remember? “Why?” He asked instead, “what did you find on there?”

 Robin just shuffled up the bed some, making space for him to sit down beside him. At first he didn’t understand what he was looking at, just a short message from Danny; nothing too personal, just saying something about him being worried over him and asking to get in touch when he could. It read like one of their old conversations they would have before Luthor got him, so why was Robin showing him this?

 “Look at the date it was sent,” Robin instructed, pointing to the little bar showing when the email was sent. His eyes grew to saucer size when he realized why it was of interest.

 “September eighth, 2009?” He mumbled out dazedly. The email was sent over two years after  he died? That didn’t make any sense, why would someone use Danny’s old email just to send him something like this?

 “Who told you your soulmate was dead, Roy?” Robin asked again, and he realized that he didn’t have an answer. No one had told him that Danny was dead, he just remembered it.

 “N-no one… I just remember that he died while…” The realization hit harder than Superman, knocking the air from his lungs and leaving the Boy Wonder to finish his thought for him.

 “You just remember that he had died while you were with CADMUS. You never thought to check your sources because you thought you just lost him, but maybe you should look into that now.”

 He could only nod in agreement as he reread the email over and over again.

~~~~~

Amity Park, Il

December 12th 2011,

11:27 CST

‘Roy’ knocked on the door of the townhouse that could hold the answers he needed to find the real Roy. He looked up, tilting his head at the chrome UFO stationed precariously on the roof of the building. Something told him that the Drs. Fenton did not have a permit for that thing, but from what he could remember of his -Roy’s- conversations with Danny, there wasn’t a government that could really stop the Fentons from doing what they wanted. Still, someone had to have tried, right?

 Robin was probably looking into it from where they parked up the road, along with whatever permits they needed to keep that thing that had just pulled out of the driveway from being impounded and torn for scrap.

 His head snapped back to the door as it opened, revealing- oh god.

 Danny was definitely taller than he remembered, paler too. His original’s soulmate now stood a head taller than he did, which when he was over six foot was saying something, with lean arms running up into a baggy t-shirt, no doubt hiding more lean muscle underneath. Maybe he did track or swim in high school? He was still Danny though, the same guy Roy met all those years ago when he was still trying to make Ollie take him on as an apprentice after his parents died. The same kid he helped get back to his school group and the kid he almost punched someone over.

 God, he missed Danny.

 Eyes a much brighter blue than he remembered widened so much it looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets, he almost wanted to laugh before they narrowed, zeroing in on where he knew he had his hands. Danny looked from his hand to his face -which he kept carefully neutral- before sighing, leaning himself against the frame of the door with a silent curse.

 “Please tell me Vlad didn’t make you,” he asked, looking even more tired than when he opened the door.

 “Whose Vlad?” He responded, twisting his face in confusion. Danny gave him a long, hard look. Neither of them blinked, and he was starting to get worried as to whether or not Danny would actually talk to him.

 Finally, with a sigh Danny turned to walk inside, leaving the door open for him to walk in. “No one,” he grumbled before he trudged into the living room. “Let's chat, clone boy.”

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 When Danny had asked if anyone knew they were meeting, he hadn’t expected for him to ask to go get Robin from the car for the conversation. “My parents will be out for a while, they got a signal from the other side of town. Might as well take this chance,” he said to brush off the Boy Wonder’s concerns of them having their chat in the living room.

 “So,” Danny started as he clapped his hands together. “Since you haven’t attacked me yet, we can start with your names.”

 “You can call me Rob,” Robin said from the seat next to him.

 “Roy,” he reluctantly gave, to which Danny shook his head looking disappointed.

 “Nope, try again. I asked for your name, not the name of the guy you were cloned from.” Robin stiffened at the mention of the real Roy, having not yet been told about Danny’s earlier comment.

 “How do you know that?” The Boy Wonder questioned, falling into his mentor's way of interrogating.

 Danny just snorted, “You think I don’t know my own soulmate when I see him? This guy isn’t him; I know ‘cause you can’t clone a soul ring.” He held up his left hand, showing the grey band on his middle finger. A jolt of relief surged through him, the ring wasn’t black, Roy was alive!

 “And how are you so sure of that?” Robin prodded, keeping the conversation on track for the two of them so he could have his validation in peace.

 “Wouldn’t you like to know, waterboy,” Danny quoted at Robin before turning back to him. “So, do you have a name yet or do we need to think of one?”

 The question was asked with a tone so soft he thought Danny thought he might break at the suggestion. It was kind, just as kind as he remembered Danny to be. He glanced at Robin before looking at his own hands, uncertain.

 “I… I don’t- I haven’t thought of one yet,” he stuttered, feeling suddenly far too vulnerable. He didn’t want to look up at his originals’ soulmate's face, scared of what he’d see. Funny how he could face world ending threats and yet this civilian from some small ass town in the midwest was the thing that scared him more.

 He heard Danny shift from in front of him as he spoke, “Alright.” The word was spoken so gently he had to look up, just to see if he meant it like that. Pools of ice froze the breath in his lungs as he stared at an expression so full of melancholy. Fuck, why is Danny looking at him like that? Why is he looking at him like he’s seen what he’d done -what he is- and understands?

 Danny is just a civilian, isn’t he?

 Their stare broke as Danny looked to Robin. “So, if you aren’t here ‘cause of Amity’s problems or Vlad, what are you here for?”

 Robin was about to answer, but he cut him off. “We need your help.”

 Those icy-blues turned back to him with a tilt of his head. “Help? What help can I give you?”

 He swallowed, mouth dry, “We need to know anything you know about Roy- the real Roy. It might be a stretch but we’re running out of options.”

 “And why do you think I know anything about where he is when nobody’s told me anything about what you’ve been doing for the last five years?” Danny’s eyes glanced between the two heroes before him. “I mean, I know he’s not dead. I’ve checked more than a few times to make sure. And since I’m pretty sure he’s in the living world I can’t help you magically find him.”

 “Living world?” Robin asked before either of them had the chance to decipher what that could mean.

 Danny looked between the two across from him, face twisted in utter confusion. “You mean after all this time, even when I have two of the Justice league Juniors here-” he lifted his hand to stop whatever denials Robin was going to try to start. “-Yes I know you work with the Justice League, I’d be stupid not to know who works with the ignorant Super Friends when they’ve been ignoring every call for help we’ve sent. You also work in such a similar occupation to the town hero to have been cloned, but that's not the point. The point is, you came to Amity Park, the most haunted place on earth- to Fentonworks- and you haven’t done your research?”

 Silence filled the room as the two heroes looked at each other. What do they even say to that? Apparently Robin knew, as he looked back to Danny, sitting his elbows on his knees and steepling his fingers over his mouth.

 “How about we all start from the beginning?”

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 So.

 Ghosts are apparently real. That was not something he expected to have confirmed today. Robin looked to be in a similar state of shock, though the bat-poker face kept his expression level for anyone not used to their microexpressions. Danny had a similar look of contemplation, though much less surprised.

 “So let me get this straight. You-” Danny pointed to him, “-were created five years ago by an evil extension of the American government with funding by an evil-er billionaire. You took Roy’s place so you could make it to the big leagues so that this evil billionaire and his evil friends could gain control of said big leagues. Because Roy had a soul ring and you don’t, they gave you the implanted memory of me dying so you wouldn’t think to check in on me and accidentally throw off your mission. You succeeded in getting control of the Justice League, found out you were actually a clone, then promised to find your original. Now you’re here because you're running out of ways to find him. Did I get all that right?”

 The two heroes nodded dumbly, before Robin piped up. “And let's see if I get what you’re telling us.”

 Danny nodded as Robin took a breath. “So. Ghosts are real. Your town has been dealing with ghosts for the last six years without help from the Justice League because you stopped trying to call for help after year three. Your town hero has fought world destroying beings and gods and no one ever noticed. Five years ago was the last time you heard from Roy, but you know he’s alive because A. You’ve tried looking for him in the literal realm of the dead, and B. Your soul ring hasn't gone black and crumbled yet. Did I miss anything?”

 “You forgot the part where the whole town basically has a bone to pick with the league now ‘cause they never even answered our calls, and the secret government facility trying to capture and experiment on anything with even an ounce of ectoplasm in their systems with a base right outside the town limits.”

 Robin took in another breath and held it. “Right, that too,” he squeaked out.

 Looking back to Danny, he tried to examine him more than he could at the door. Eyebags so deep you could sleep in them, musculature suited for dodging and running, rather than brute strength, faint scarring crisscrossing both arms reaching as far as his collarbones.

 “You fight them,” he realized.

 Danny shrugged, “When I have to, yeah. You won’t find many people in Amity that don’t have these kinds of scars. Even the kids have a few good scrapes here and there.” He looked down then, eyes following the paths his scars made with an expression of someone who’d seen too much for his age. The same kind of look he knew greeted the Team whenever one of them looked in the mirror.

 Heavy silence engulfed the living room as the two heroes tried to come up with something to say to this civilian, to console or apologize or to rectify years of neglect- something. But there was no excuse for this. For what the whole town -for what Danny- had to go through, no words were enough to make that right.

 It wasn’t his place to apologize anyway.

 Instead he stood up, Robin following quickly after. “Well, this was enlightening in more ways than one, but since you can’t tell us where Roy is we have to go find answers somewhere else.” He remarked with no heat, he couldn’t even find it in him to sass.

 He was so hopeful that this would give them something, anything more than just to prove that the real Roy was alive. They found that out, at least, but no clue as to where Luthor might have hidden him. This was their last real lead, even if it was a longshot.

 A noise from behind them had him turning to see Danny following them. “Now where do you think you’re going?” Danny asked them.

 “Back? We need to track down more leads or nothing will be done,” he replied.

 “We also need to report the situation in your town. This was a major oversight, and it needs to be rectified,” Robin added on.

 “Not without me you’re not,” Danny said as he crossed his arms.

 He gave Robin a look of confusion as Danny continued. “I’ve waited this long to hear something about my soulmate and you think I’ll stay put when you tell me he needs help? Fat chance of that.”

 “It’s too dangerous for a civilian,” Robin tried to argue. “If we do find him he’ll be surrounded by highly trained guards. It would devastate Roy if he came back and you weren’t there.”

 “That’s why I’m going,” Danny argued back. “And who said anything about me being a civilian?”

 Before either of them could ask a bright light sprung from Danny's waist, splitting in two and crossing his body. Where the light passed Danny changed, from a t-shirt and jeans to padded cloth and armor. Green eyes stared at them under ethereal snow white hair, accented by a sharp smile.

 “Meet the town hero,” Danny quipped in a voice of static and screams.

~~~~~

Tibet

February 14th 2013,

02:01 BT

 “Your source better not be wrong, Phantom,” Will hissed at the half-ghost as he crouched behind the outer wall of a League of Assassins base.

 “Trust me Will, Dani knows better than to joke about something this serious,” Danny whispered back, scoping the place out from the inside just to make sure. Dani knew how serious this was, sure, but Danny said he still needed to see it with his own eyes.

 It had been a little over two years since Danny had joined Will on his search for his template. Another two years of searching for someone the rest of the League thought was dead, even if the evidence to the contrary wrapped around Danny’s finger. Even Dick and Jim, the two who had held out the longest, had turned their backs on the search. Now it was just him and Danny, and Danny’s clone whenever she decided to give them a lead with a call.

 “One more door,” Danny murmured through the comms. “This door is even more heavily guarded than the others, think this is the one Dani was talking about.”

 It was quiet for a few seconds as Danny bypassed the guards and the door, and the silence stretched longer than Will thought acceptable. “Phantom?” He asked through the line.

 A rough breath enhanced the light static that never seemed to go away with Phantom on comm. It was shaky, and Danny didn’t need to breathe in his ghost form. “Did you find something?” Will asked urgently.

 “It's him,” Danny croaked, before putting a little more force in his words. “It’s him, Will. We found him.”

 Will has wanted to hear those words for the last three years. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream and dance and hug someone. They found him. After three long years they found him.

 Now they just had to get him out of there.

 “Pull back, Phantom,” he ordered. “We’ll have a better time of extracting him if we get rid of the obstacles in the way first.”

 “On it,” Danny responded. Will readied his trick arrows.

~~~~~

 Danny was reading when Roy woke up. He came to slowly, looking around the room first -checking for possible exit strategies- before his eyes fell on Danny. Danny could see a spark of recognition flash by before his face twisted in confusion. He glanced at his ring, then Danny, then did a double take at his lack of right arm. Panic rose in his face, so Danny put his hand over Roy’s, dragging his soulmate’s attention from his amputated limb back to Danny.

 “I know you want to freak out, but how ‘bout we explain a few things first, okay?” He suggested softly, to which Roy shakily agreed.

 With his other hand Danny snatched up his phone, sending a text to Will that Roy was awake. He ran into the room not five minutes later, followed by Oliver Queen, Roy’s mentor and -to Danny’s not so recent knowledge- Green Arrow. Ollie looked almost like he wanted to cry. Will just looked relieved, Danny could sympathize.

 He’s waited too long for this reunion.

 “Great, the whole gang’s here,” Roy quipped, drawing Danny’s attention back to him. “Now can someone tell me why Danny’s here, why there’s another me, and where the hell my arm went‽”

 Will and Ollie glanced at each other in uncertainty, unsure of where to start and how to let him know gently that he’s been asleep for six years. Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes as he gave Roy’s hand a pat and stood up to be next to the other two heroes.

 “Cowards,” he hissed at them before turning to face Roy, who was looking more than a little lost. “Well Roy, It's nice to finally see you again, now buckle up ‘cause this is one hell of a story.”

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 Danny watched as the other two left the room, before turning back to Roy. For all intents and purposes he looked like a confused teenager that had just been told he was replaced for six years, but the ring on Danny’s finger was blazing with something hotter than confusion and loss.

 “I said I wanted some time alone, Danny,” Roy ground out. His acting was so clear Danny let a chuckle escape his throat as he sat back in his chair.

 “No luck Roy, I’m not leaving you this time.” A glare was shot his way from the boy on the bed, he brushed it off easily with a smile. “I’ve waited this long to be with you again, you really think I’ll leave you alone so you can ghost me?”

 Roy sneered, dropping the act entirely in favour of a glare so strong it would make Vlad quiver in his boots. “You can’t keep me here, not when Luthor needs a beating.”

 “Keep you here?” Danny chuckled, “who said anything about keeping you here? I want to go with you. If I can’t stop you from leaving I can at least make sure you don’t get yourself in another mess you can't get yourself out of.”

 Roy cocked his head, dropping the glare in favour of a confused look. “Danny, not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but you really think you can keep up?”

 Danny looked his soulmate over before he gave a sharp grin, exposing his fangs as he flashed his eyes to green. “If I could keep up with you but older for three years, I can keep up with you for as long as I want.”

 Only the book Danny was reading greeted Will and Ollie when they made their way back to the recovery room.

[artiststarme]

Robin has a nut allergy

Just a little snippet of Robin being allergic to nuts with some Steddie on the side. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

It’s a well known fact within the Party that Robin is allergic to nuts. Whether it be because of genetics or her lesbianism that had her allergic to even being in the vicinity of nuts, male or otherwise, she was deathly allergic. And ever since an incident involving carrot cake, walnuts, and an ambulance ride to the ER, everyone knew it. 

She didn’t have an Epipen herself (they were too expensive and she’d rather die before spending $600 on something that might save her life) but Hopper now had three of them on his person at any given time. And Steve had stolen one of his emergency pens to put in the Beemer in case of emergencies. 

Either way, it had been a long time since she’s needed one and a long time since she had any sort of allergic reaction. Robin felt secure with her friends. With them, she didn’t have to check all of the ingredients on food containers or worry about one of them trying to murder her with concealed tree nuts, unlike her parents. Or so she thought. 

Because when she stepped into the Hopper-Byers’ house one afternoon on what was supposed to be her introduction to her first DnD campaign, her throat swelled shut. Within seconds she was choking, her face turning red and her eyes watering. She couldn’t breathe. 

She clawed at her throat in an effort to get air in. She vaguely felt Steve pulling her out of the doorway of his house and distantly heard him yelling at Eddie to grab something from his glove box. Meanwhile, Robin was panicking. She couldn’t get enough air in and her muscles were starting to weaken. She could feel her body fighting itself as it responded to the airborne molecules of nuts in the air. 

Her vision was tunneling and her breaths were labored by the time she felt a sharp stab in her right thigh. Immediately, the swelling in her throat started to lessen and her vision began to clear. Her chest heaved for the air it was deprived of and her ears tuned back into her surroundings. 

“C’mon Eddie, help me pick her up. We have to get her to the hospital. Let’s go!”

“Hey Stevie, calm down. She’s fine now. We’ll get her to the hospital and she’ll be okay. I’ll drive, you just hold onto Robin.”

“What even happened? She was having an allergic reaction?” She thinks that was Jonathan but she couldn’t be sure with her eyes still closed. 

“She’s allergic to nuts. Especially pecans and walnuts,” that darling voice was Will’s. She’s recognize his soft tone anywhere. 

“Oh my god! I was making pecan pie, I forgot! I feel horrible!” That was Joyce, no one else could sound so hysteric. 

The rest of the conversation escaped her as Steve and Eddie set her in the Beemer and took off towards the hospital. She nodded off in Steve’s arms in the back of the car and Eddie drive like a bat out of hell to get her help. 

When she woke up, she was resting on a hospital bed with IVs in her hands and a blanket pulled up to her chest. Night had fallen and Steve and Eddie were still by her bedside, curled up on a single chair with their limbs wrapped around each other. 

Knowing she was safe in the presence of her best friends, she let her eyes slip closed and went back to sleep. There would be apologies made in the morning and hysterical promises made but for now, she would rest in the presence of her capital P platonic soulmate and his boyfriend, her other best friend. Everything else could be dealt with later.

Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1

[thewebcomicsreview]

https://pandorastale.com/

Okay, this one got submitted to me, so lets take a look.

Okay, first things first. This is a pretty solid first page. It immediately establishes our protagonist, an external conflict (”broken rules”) and an internal conflict (”What am I if I’m not obedient”) in three panels and fifteen words. This is a page that makes me want to read more. Good job!

This leads into a scene that we later realize is a few minutes ago, and I like that the first page was “smoky” like that, which made it feel more like an “intro page” than the actual page 1 of the story. If there had been a detailed background this transition would’ve been more jarring but as is it works.

Your getting a lot of mileage out of this art. I like that our unnamed trans catgirl is sitting with her legs crossed in a feminine way, and the way the director is covering the P in the sign in the background. HERE TO HELL!

Anyway, our catgirl escapes in a smokey pod while she has a think, letting us know we’ve “caught up” to the intro. Cool.

She’s found by a group of normal people who awkwardly explain to the black person that slavery is bad, which is an unfortunate blocking decision. Also, I feel like the preceding 16 pages did such a good job explaining the helpers that this exposition is redundant, and it makes Isabelle (who we soon learn is in “the resistance”) look a little dumb, like she joined an anti-slavery network but is only learning about slavery just now. This is kind of nitpicking, I know, but the comic’s been really smooth up until here and this has been the first speed bump I’ve noticed.

Okay, so, our protagonist is technomagically compelled to fall in love with Isabelle, who is also the most anti-slavery member of the group. There’s a lot to unpack there, and me saying that isn’t a criticism. 

Isabelle reveals this is a t4t romance and I’m not sure how I feel about the trans flag being in grayscale there. Like, the whole comic’s in greyscale, so it fits, but also the only way to tell it’s a trans flag is from context because otherwise it’s just kind of stripes.

On the other hand, even ignoring my shit ten-seconds-in-MS-Paint recoloring skillz, busting out the Sin City splash colors makes it really fourth wall breaking, but it’s literally a giant trans flag magically appearing so that ship’s sailed....but also if you ever want to print this book it’d be pain....but also also you could keep the spot colors in the book maybe....I dunno. I’m bouncing back and forth on it.

Anyway, Isabelle names her pet slave Pandora.They go to a doctor and are all “Can catgirls get HRT” and the Doctor’s all “Fuck if I know, let’s ball” and I’m not sure if that’s handwaving away a detail in the service of the main story or setting up Pandora having an allergic reaction that causes anime shenanigans to happen. Either/or in this comic

Pandora offers to be a sex slave and Isabella is like :| and they sleep next to each other in an awkward but happy embrace that feels like this comic could end there and be a complete short story, one that I’d say is pretty good.

There’s another six chapters, and I kind of skimmed them and I’m still a little iffy on the resistance side of the story, but at the least this is a pretty solid opening.

I got to admit, though,...I’m not super fond of the handling of the cops. Not that it’s Objectively Wrong, but I feel like they’re not quite bumbling enough to be comedy foils but they’re too bumbling to be dramatic threats so they’re just kind of there.

My subjective suggestion is think about making the cops even dumber. Having them come in guns ablazing as a serious threat like in the Matrix or whatever doesn’t seem like it’s the tone you’re going for, and you can always have the rich people have Elite Private Security if you need a scary competent villain later.

All-in-all, though, I think this is comic is well-done!

[lolly-047]

there is a diluven headcanon that i love incorporating into most if not all of my works:

Venti being allergic to Diona

Now, Venti being allergic to cats is canon - and Diona being a cat is basically canon (despite her repeated and enthusiastic disagreements) and y'all should know that Diluc, in all his brooding, Batman-like glory is a father figure just waiting to drop adoption papers at any unsuspecting child left alone by their guardians for more than five seconds. He may not know it yet, but this is nonetheless the truth

Now, picture this: Diona finally getting to talk with Diluc, just once - usual 'bonding over their mutual hatred for alcohol' commences - and thus, a catgirl becomes a more permanent fixture in Diluc's life. Is he complaining? No, he is more horrified with why a ten year old has a job in a tavern - but that is a problem he is still working out how to solve. At least she eats well whenever she comes around, and she also likes Kaeya's old room, so-

Yes, Diona is now a permanent fixture in Diluc's life. Which means, as another permanent fixture in said life, Venti eventually runs into her - maybe even while being a tad bit tipsy and reeking of wine... (Master Diluc always takes such good care of Venti tho, so why shouldn't he come stumbling to Dawn Winery?)

And so... The legendary meeting goes as the following:

Diona Kätzlein - nose fine-tuned to smell even the faintest whiff of that bloody-terrible alcohol all grown-ups are insistent of dying of (don't ask why she is suddenly brittish, i dunno either) - can barely b r e a t h e due to the stench of a bard who has a rather hard time getting drunk with anything less than a whole barrel of mead. It is a rather unfortunate side-effect of being a God of Wine, but hey, when your pseudo-boyfriend owns a winery that problem is mostly easily taken care of...! That is, when you are not faced with the only thing that causes you true trouble in your long, immortal life-

A screaming, hissing cat-child.

When, despite all the possible shortcomings you could have had, you possess none other than... an allergy to cats.

Venti, of course, is quite plastered at this point - so his reaction to a cat-child yelling bloody murder at him, being also yelling bloody murder back at the cat-child seems quite reasonal and logical, at the time. Tho his words slur, he can't help but get into a verbal battle of wits, even as his eyes grow watery and he begins to sniff and sneeze.

Diona, on the other hand, is red-faced and shrieking at the top of her lungs - also quite unable to smell things properly, because somehow, this one bard smells worse than the Cat's Tail on the busiest nights and Diona is choking on the stench.

She makes sure to throw this barb at his head, too.

And this is how Diluc, summoned by all the screaming finds them; two people, both very important in his life, but also, where do they get all this air to keep screaming for so long?!?!?

And his arrival brings something unexpected:

Silence.

Then, the duo whirls on him as one.

Diona is loudly questioning who and how and why this random drunkard is here and makehimgoaway! - meanwhile Venti, matching the cat-child in volume reminds the redhead that he is highly allergic and what the hell is a cat-child even doing here at Dawn Winery?!?!?

Cue Diluc calmly (trying to) explain the situation to both, at first somewhat patiently, but then getting annoyed af by all the loud noises and simply using his dad voice™ to make them both fucking listen

And thus, the first encounter does not end bathed in blood - instead, Diona gets to go up to her room, while Venti is forced to stay away for the night and then wear a nose-clip to keep him from having much of an allergic reaction again. Diluc certainly doesn't bring him to his own bed that night, despite all the griping of the bard.

But alas, this is only the first encounter.

Many more follow, as both Diona and Venti are prominent figures in Diluc's life - especially these days.

Each meeting, each narrow-eyed glare and biting comment makes sure the air between the two feels like a ticking bomb tho; one you are never quite sure when will go off.

Because go off it will, at the slightest chance it can.

But at the end of the day, altho Diluc would clearly be better off without one of them in his life - the redhead is a common ground between the two. They can make nice, against all appearances, for a scarce five minutes.

And tho neither will ever admit it, they might be growing on each other more than they care to acknowledge.

Welp. Not sure i wanted to go ahead and write out a whole scene like that, but... lol xD

Just - frenemy Diona and Venti. the good shit

I L I V E for the character dynamic that takes two otherwise mostly normal characters and turns them into rabid dogs frothing at the mouth when they see each other. just. Good shit

Also, why does Diona canonically hate Diluc (i mean i get why, he is kinda the poster-boi for the wine industry) when VENTI is there??? These two have the perfect elements for a mean-banter relationship, one even greater than the one Venti and Paimon share!!!!

Maybe we will get in one day, in canon

Until then, this still lives in my head (plus across many of my wips) rent-free. Thanks for the read <3

[back-alley-goatboy]

Well, as its Ghosts season 5 eve, I think its about time I give my final theories to how The captain and Kitty die.

Idk if promo pics count as spoilers, but they are below the cut

Starting with Kitty. Honestly, I think its going to be either food poisoning or an allergic reaction from the pineapple, but it will be spurred on by Eleanor.

I mean, look how much fun Kitty is having, she's laughing with everyone, and Eleanor looks so damn salty and jealous.

I mean, we know she isn't above trying to make Kitty sick (the warm oysters), plus we have seen kitty throw up as a ghost. I imagine the party would eat the pineapple, it begins to make Kitty ill and Eleanor would notice and would make a game of it. Something along the lines of "oh its horrid, lets see who can eat the most", expecting her to throw up and embarrass herself, not die.

Im leaning more towards food poisoning because chances are that pineapple would be rotten as hell by the time it reaches the Uk in the georgian era via boat.

Above all, I want to see kitty realise that Eleanor was a bitch and start unpacking that trauma. Bonus points for genuine kitmas bonding over the fact their familes are terrible.

Second of all, The Captain. Whoo boy I have feelings about this one, its a much less solid theory but it makes sense.

We all know the beloved cracked mirror in the intro but it got me thinking, what if its a metaphor for a broken image?

We all know Cap is big on appearances, but in the promo pics we see him looking like hes getting grilled by the general (wiki told me the red bits mean general, dont quote me though, also, stick my beloved).

Ever since Redinng weddy, I have wondered if Cap was ordered to bury the bomb. I doubt it considering its active explosives in someones back garden so I came to the conclusion that the "letter/operation william plans" were actually letters and Cap buried them with the bomb to keep them safe. But then, a suposedly important Government secret operation goes walkies? Thats a situation right there.

What if, after getting his medals, the general complains that he isnt worthy of them/is a spy or german ect (some Havers is a spy theory here, I dont love it but it would make some sense in this context) and it kind of adds up too much, so the other soldiers try and get rid of him. If a fight was to break out it would explain why he has the stick, he grabbed it out the general's hand trying to defend himself. Similarly, the draw opening in the intro could be someone grabbing a stashed away gun, causing panic (maybe cap finally got his service revolver). We also know a man was murdered in the library (said by Robin in the little promo film), I can only imagine it was teased because it was relevant.

Obviously this is a less solid theory but it would explain the weird expressions in the promo pics and tbh Im biased towards the Cap was murdered theory. Hypothetically, it could also be why he only wants to be known as The Captain, if the General tried to revoke his title after he got his medals.

Also Lord Brigadier Sir Anthony Bartholemew Raisinby Jones mayhaps?

I mean regardless of what happens,they are my babies and im going to go feral. I guess we just have to wait and see.

[spyret-the-shitposter]

May I ask why you have 2 rubber foetuses at all time s in your bag

ok really funny story.

so like two weeks ago my AP language class went to the state capitol for a convention all about women. i'm afab so naturally i was invited. i went with my friends and we were allowed to explore the booths on the ground floor.

at one of the booths was a pro-life section (against abortions). we did NOT want to go there because all of us are pro-choice. however, our friend (who we'll call K) took one for the team and went to go see what it was about. she came back with four extremely realistic rubber fetuses.

K showed all of us and said they were from the pro-life booth, and all of us decided we had to go. after all, we wanted the fetuses (just to play with them). so K lead the way.

there we found the pro-life booth, where they started telling us why they think abortion shouldn't be legal. the booth was ran by an elderly woman and a man. they had the rubber fetuses there, but not just the very tiny first-stage ones like K showed us--they had fetuses of all sizes, growing in stages until it was fully grown. this was very strange and i felt like i was doing something illegal.

so they asked us if we'd like to hold some, and my first thought was that K just took the ones they gave her and ran, but obviously that wasn't the case, because they were VERY protective of these fake children. they demanded we hold our hands out and have them doused in baby powder to even get to touch the fake fetuses. i did so, and it burned my hands. i'm pretty sure it gave me an allergic reaction, but i digress.

they passed down fake fetuses that grew in stages of life. first was the tiniest one, and the very last one was the full-grown baby. there were four stages depicted, and i was the fourth kid in our group, so i was stuck holding the full-grown one for a while. it was one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. it looked incredibly real and felt incredibly real.

then they graciously asked if we wanted to take a fetus home. HELL YES!! THE THING WE ALL CAME FOR!!! i took one and called it meredith. THEN they asked if we wanted a little bag to take home. sure, why not. we were already here.

so i left to go wash my hands of the burning baby powder, and dug in my purse for the lotion that prevents my hands from getting dry, and realized that the bag had ANOTHER FAKE FETUS. i didn't know what to name that one, so i just didn't.

now i have two fake fetuses. there is no discernible difference between the two, so they take turns getting called meredith. me and my friends play with them, and since i have mini brands toys, we treat them like our barbies and put them in situations. i do not know their fetus supplier, and have no idea where you can get one of your own. but that's how i got em. maybe a picture once my phone has wifi

[incorrect-incorrect-jump]

;; hell yeah have some mmj headcanons from your local mod haruka :D

;; this is just a random assortment of thoughts pretty much

Minori

;; has a stutter! it does show often when she's on stream because a lot of the stream is scripted and she's practiced it. but when they're just generally talking to people, they repeat words, reword their sentence in the middle of saying it and cut them self off in the middle of words constantly.

;; has eczema. it flairs up during the winter and she has to be reminded to not itch the flared up patch.

;; has decorated her phone case with homemade mmj stickers and made some for the other members!

;; has the most random skillset and yet it somehow comes in handy

Airi: "why did we choose the coldest classroom to stream in?"

Minori: ".. be right back"

Airi: "wh- WHY IS IT SO HOT??"

Minori: "the heater needed fixing!"

;; allergic to plasters, and carries around her own so she doesn't have a reaction!

;; refuses to swear. most often uses clover as an insert ("oh my clover." "what the clover?!") but on the rare occasion she has sworn, it's a lot. they can swear in several different languages and it all gets thrown to use. (it's the one swear a year card)

Haruka

;; has made her own penguin merch before, does not hesitate to brag about it to people (it's the only thing in life she will brag about)

;; gives his lovers rocks as a love language

;; that last one isn't exclusive to lovers though, if you're close with haruka you have a rock from him somewhere

;; outside of idol music xe listens to a lot of street music (thanks to an's influence) and vocaloid, specifically miku (thanks to ichika's influence)

;; the only one who's trusted to do first aid in the group

Airi

;; not afraid of staring at people. she stares into people's souls.

;; knows how to lockpick, and is really good at it, she does it when mmj end up streaming late and the school staff forgot they were there.

;; can be bribed into anything with sweets. for example: she hates having to study for longer then an hour so she sits with shizuku and through the power of bribery studies for three.

;; in charge of outfit coordination and is rocking it. it knows how to make an outfit look good and cohesive.

Shizuku

;; best cook out of all of them! if she can keep her attention on the food. most of the time she can :)

;; loves to talk about fashion on stream, it's her contribution to the infodump session

;; her and minori are trying to teach the rest of the group sign language (they both learned from shiho)

;; very sensitive to the other members' emotions and is very good at discreetly changing the subject on stream. love isn't even consciously trying, love just kinda does it.

[ameonds-dragonn]

Poe cup champs

A filler for the Nevermore series

Summary: Dany gets throw into the Poe cup last minute and helps the team sabotage everyone for the win. Even if it meant wrestling her guy best friend and crush.

Warnings: cussing, mention of smoking weed, pinning, flirting, “cheating”. Xavier gets horny for Dany ;) definitely’10 things I hate about you’ vibes (my inspo for the end) @valeskafics here ya go bestie boo 💚💚

Enid was buzzing about the Poe cup that was this Saturday. She was painting the canoe with Yoko and some other girl I didn’t know. I knew Xavier was entering, he always has. It would be nice to see Barclay lose at least one time of us being here.

“Dany!” My cousin yelled at me

“I’m coming, goon!” I walked as I tucked the weed into the pocket more.

We walked to our spot in the woods and sparked up and forgot about our worries of being a teenager in a outcast boarding school. Soon enough we were walking past the girls painting their canoes.

“OMG! Dany, you should totally join us for this Poe cup!” Enid ran up to me and Aemond. Aemond stifled a laugh as the werewolf jumped around.

“Enid, I love you but no way! I don’t do water!” I gave her a small smile.

“Please! It will be so fun!”

I said no and plus Aemond and I always skip the Poe cup. It’s tradition” I assured the blonde wolf.

“And do what exactly?”

“Enid!” I sighed as I walked off from the two blondes.

I was walking back to my dorm when I saw Xavier and the boys working on their boat. AJax saw me and waved me over

“Shit”

“Oh hey Dany!” Xavier stood up and wiped his hands

“Hi, I’m not joining your team” I looked up at him

“Dany, you’re a girl and you don’t live in our dorms” Ajax giggled

I grabbed my boobs and moved my shirt back enough for me to see my chest and bra, “Oh my god that’s I am! Thanks for the tip”

Xavier giggled as his best friend and teammate sat back down and painted again

“Watch it” I grinned

Xavier pulled me into his chest as he wrapped his arms around my waist, “Did you smoke?”

“Mhm yeah. I went with Aemond” i mumbled as my face was mushed in his chest.

——- Friday night, Ophelia Hall common room

I walked up to my dorm from hanging out with Alys and I heard crying

“Enid?” I opened her door as I saw her crying on her bed like a child.

“Oh sweetheart! What happened?” I shut the door and put her in my chest as I hugged her

“Yoko and a garlic bread incident. She had an allergic reaction and won’t be able to do the Poe cup. My life is over!” Enid cried

Damn it, Bianca Barclay!

“Hey I’ll join to help our dorm” I sighed

She pulled away and smiled, “Thank you! I love you Dany!”

“Love you too. Now what’s your plan to sabotage the other teams?” I smirked.

————— Saturday morning, Poe cup

I walked down the grass to the Poe cup and where I was to meet Enid. Xavier was painted like the Heath Ledger joker.

“Awh you playing a little dress up”, I snorted at him

“Hahaha! I thought you were skipping this?”

Xavier smirked down at me

“Your ex girlfriend decided to fuck Yoko up with garlic bread at last night’s dinner. I found Enid all stressed so I decided to help her out” I sighed, knowing he was gonna give me hell.

“Dany! Go get into your costume” Enid said

“Costume?!” I yelped as she grabbed my wrist.

I walked out in a tight black outfit with cat ears on my head. This was so embarrassing! Xavier and Aemond giggled like school girls. Aemond snapped a picture. “This is the Christmas card”

I went to chase after Aemond but Xavier jerked me up in his arms, “You traitor!” I gasped as he held me close.

“You can beat him up later. Enid will kill you if you don’t do this” Xavier sat me down but not before I could knock his hat off his head

“Heyy what did I do?” He yelled as I met Enid and Wednesday and the other girl at the canoes.

Xavier looked at me and smiled

“Fuck you” i mouthed and started back around

“When are you two actually gonna do it?” Enid asked as Weems shot the gun off.

“Oh you are so dead, Sinclair!” I groaned as the others rowed off

“Just row, Dans!” Wednesday scowled

“Enid, stay here and make sure Bianca doesn’t wreck our boat. I’m gonna distract some jokers” I ran off to find Xavier

He ran towards my tree I was using as a hide out, I grabbed him by his shoulders. Pushed him down and threw his arms over his face.

“How’s the weather, Thorpe?” I asked as I pinned him down.

“Get off me, Daenerys! Don’t cheat” Xavier groaned, trying to flip me off of his thighs. But I had my knees in his elbows.

“No rules so I can’t be cheating” I smirked as I felt him get hard under me.

He looked at me and waited for my reaction, “You think you’re the first guy to get hard because I pinned him. Cute” I smirked as Wednesday grabbed the flag

“Get off, Daenerys!” Wednesday rolled her eyes before running to the boat.

“I’m coming!” I yelled as I bent down to kiss Xavier’s cheek, “Later Joker” I got off and ran before I could see his reaction or tantrum.

“Why do you have red paint on your lips?” Enid asked as I jumped behind Wednesday.

“You’ll thank me later. Now let’s go!” I sighed and I saw Xavier run to his boat.

His teammates yelled and suddenly laughed as they noticed the reasoning why he was late and had a broken flag. Enid looked at Xavier’s cheek that was smeared and mixed with pink off my nose.

“Dany you naughty girl!” She giggled as we passed Bianca’s boat

I looked back as Xavier’s boat stopped and started to sink. He threw his jester hat off as he pitched his fit. “Dany, I’m gonna kill you!”

Enid giggled as we docked and ran to the finish line. Bianca and her team swam to shore with sour looks. I saw Xavier swimming as fast as he could. He was mad but oh well I won! He can get over it!

Alys hugged me and smiled, “congratulations baby”

I felt a tap on my shoulder, my heart sank. I knew by the water footsteps and shampoo it was him.

I turned around, “Oh fuck! Aemond!” I yelled as I look off running

“I told you Dan!”

“Aemond, where the hell are you!” I ran into someone’s chest and I stopped running

“What now?” Aemond sighed, pulling me behind his back as Xavier approached.

“She cheated and got our boat to sink” Xavier said

“Dany how did you ‘cheat’ considering there’s no rules?” Aemond stood between us

“I knocked him off course and pinned him to the ground. Long enough for Wednesday to get our flag and return to the boat”

I sighed

“So are you mad she beat you or that her 5 '3 ass pinned you down?” Aemond scoffed.

Xavier’s mouth opened and closed

“Or that he got hard soon as I pinned him down” I smirked

“Jesus! Go rub one out like a normal teenager instead of plotting her murder” Aemond groaned making Xavier blush.

Xavier stalked off embarrassed, the guilt hit me a little as Aemond chuckled.

“Don’t laugh, Aem” I watched Xavier throw his hat down

_______ Monday, Thornhill’s class

I hadn’t talked to Xavier since our incident and argument in the woods with Aemond defending me.

He was drawing something as I walked in, Wednesday was sitting beside him. I took my place with Yoko.

“Admit you’re a little impressed” I heard Xavier say to Wednesday

It was out before I could stop it, “Wow that’s so much better than diamonds”

The class went completely quiet waiting for Xavier’s response

“It used to impress you, princess” he whipped his head to me and with shit eating grin

“Because I knew it would bruise your soft little ego if I said they were merely okay”, I raised my eyebrows at him and smirked

“Oh you know it’s not little, dany” Xavier’s eyes darken

Bianca held back a choke and the others died laughing

“Alright you two that’s enough!” Thornhill said before we could get another shot out

The bell rang a few minutes later, I packed my shit up and ran out but he caught up

“You’re jealous” Xavier sang

“Piss off” I groaned as I stuck my earbuds in

“Come on, you know you got your panties in a twist when you sat on me” Xavier poked my cheek

“I didn’t wear panties Saturday. Kinda hard for them to get in a twist. Don’t flatter yourself you didn’t have any effect on my excitement” I smirked before I walked off

“Then what did I have affect on, baby?” Xavier asked me as I walked off

I admit he got me a little wet when I felt him under me but he was about to find out.

“Other than my up chuck reflexes nothing” I stormed off hearing Xavier laugh at my denial

[lnsfawwi]

cat sitting

ship:winterhawk

characters:Bucky,Clint,Lucky,Alpine

note:not my first language. also pre canon winterhawk.

------

Bucky goes to pick up Al with a fruit basket for Misty.

Misty glares as Al hops onto Bucky’s waist and climbs all the way up to his shoulder, rubbing her neck on Bucky, scenting him, meowing softly. “She’s a nuisance.”

Bucky smiles apologetically, “still pals?”

“as long as you don’t ask me to catsit anymore.” Misty takes the fruit basket, so Bucky’d say he’s forgiven.

Alpine has her own mysterious system of deciding whom to mess with. Bucky, never. Nat, not in a million years. Steve, she’s the sweetest fluff ball ever walked on planet earth. Carol, only when paired with Chewy. Kate, full goblin mode. Parker, total jerk. Stark, evil incarnate. To be honest Bucky hasn’t the foggiest clue why, the more pressing issue is that he’s running out of favors and there are only so many missions one can take a cat with.

“steve, pal, think you can take Al for a couple of days...oh. Ok, I’ll just find someone else. No, don’t worry. She misses you too.”

“Bobbi, are you free? I need to drop Al off a few days...I’ll even say please...yeah, fine. No, don’t sweat it. I’ll call someone else.”

“Nat...no. I was calling to see if you can take Al.”

“Luke, listen, I need you to babysit for me, just a couple of days...no, I’ve got a cat, you’ve only met her like half a dozen times. How can she be allergic, isn’t she a superbaby or something?”

“Daisy, like cats? No? Okay. Nothing.”

Another alert pops up on his phone, he really needs to find someone to take Al. Right fucking now.

That’s how he ends up calling barton. To be fair, it’s not that he doesn’t trust Clint with his cat, only after kate’s unfortunate experience, he suspects the chances of Al liking another hawkeye is non existent. Bucky just doesn’t want to cause his friends more trouble, ok? He’s a nice person.

“Clint, you home?”

“yeah, why.” the man sounds like he’s half conscious.

“I have a mission and I need you to take care of Al for me.”

“sure. Lucky’s here too, I’ll just open a shelter.”

“are you drugged?”

“only one ibuprofen and that’s 20 minutes ago.”

Bucky sighs. Why the hell does Clint always get his ass kicked like a street kid? He looks down to the white fur ball inside his jacket, “promise me to behave this time?”

“meow.”

“Good girl.”

-

Clint looks every bit as bad as he sounds. Several cuts on his face, a long, deep cut on his right thigh, the gauze on his left torso is stained with blood. Lucky circles Bucky twice before settling next to Clint, nuzzling Bucky’s hand with his nose. Bucky pets him while staring at Clint, he asks, “what the hell happened?”

“nuthin’, you shoulda see the other guys.” Clint’s gaze drops to alpine and shifts back to Bucky, “you don’t have a cage? Or a leash? Toys? Litter box?”

“that’s a lot to carry in my jacket.” said Bucky, deadpan. He scoops alpine out of his jacket, kissing the cat on the forehead before turning her to face Clint, “this’s Clint. He’s face is pretty messed up already, so no need to add more.”

The cat meows, tail wagging slightly.

“hey there.” Clint reaches one of his fingers under Al’s nose - Misty got bitten right then. Al sniffs it and makes no reaction, naturally Clint takes it as cue to move forward. He uses 3 fingers to scratch Al’s chin, to Bucky’s surprise, she starts to make satisfactory purring sound almost instantly.

“ha, she likes me.” Clint exclaims.

Bucky hands the cat over to Clint, who takes her into his arm, cuddling her like a new born child. Al is a slender cat, no bigger than Clint’ forearm, she drapes over Clint’s arm with her eyes closed, enjoying scratches. Somehow it makes Bucky jealous.

“I gotta go.” Bucky announces. He’s still looking at Alpine intently, almost expecting that’d get her to snap back to her senses. The little traitor only purrs louder.

“Al, say bye to your greasy assassin papa.”

“meerrr.”

Bucky gives lucky a loud kiss on the head before leaving.

-

Bucky gets a photo of Al and Lucky sharing a cushion together at 9pm EST from Clint.

-

Bucky gets a photo of Al stealing a chunk of salmon from Clint’s plate at 7am EST from Clint.

-

Bucky gets a photo of Al and Lucky walking down the central park at 7.30 am EST from Clint.

-

Bucky gets a photo of Al chasing a butterfly in the central park at 7.46 am EST from Clint.

-

Bucky gets a photo of Al being petted by a little girl by a taco truck at 8.02 am EST from Clint.

-

Bucky gets a video of Al being licked wet by Lucky at 9.21 am EST from Clint.

-

Bucky gets a video of Al and lucky chasing a tennis ball in the apartment at 10.30 am EST from Clint.

-

Bucky gets a video of his ruined apartment as a result of Al and Lucky chasing around at 10.41 am EST from Clint.

-

Bucky gets a video of Lucky barking at the window while Al stalks the windstill with her tail raised high at 11.22am EST.

-

“stop sending me stuff. I’m on a mission.”

-

Bucky gets a selfie of Al, Lucky and Clint 30 seconds after his text. Bucky sighs. And saves the photo, as he does all the other stuff Clint’s sent him.

-

Bucky shows up at Clint’s door 5 days later with cuts on his face, a deep laceration on his right side of torso and a twisted right knee.

“looks worse than it actually is.” Bucky says.

“no shit.” Clint crosses his arms and stares. Bucky stares back.

Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh, “can I just get my cat back so I can go home?”

“she’s napping.” Clint lets Bucky into the living room. Al is lying on Lucky’s bed - Kate’s taken Lucky for a PI case yesterday - her tiny body rises and falls with each breathe. It makes Bucky feel home.

“wasn’t your place raided by Hydra?” comes Clint’s voice behind him.

“I still got that place in Manhattan.” Al wakes up before Bucky can reach her, but it’s fine, because Al is equally excited to see Bucky again. She jumps right into Bucky’s open arms and starts to scent him immediately.

“why did you move anyway?” Clint sits down in the sofa, hugging a mug close to his chest.

Bucky shrugs. “homesick.”

“you spent, like, 10 years in Indiana before you moved to New Jersey of all places. And that’s a century ago.”

“just because you don’t like the midwest doesn’t mean other people can’t.”

Clint grunts, frustrated. He doesn’t miss Iowa or anything that’s got to do with his past, before he became an Avenger. If he has to be honest, his Avengers days aren’t always sunshine and birds singing either. Besides, he isn’t exactly an Avenger anymore anyway.

Clint takes a gulp of his tea - yes, he drinks something other than coffee thank you very much - and discovers that Bucky’s still standing in his living room. “what?”

Bucky tilts his head. “are you saying you miss me in here, in New York?”

“wow, didn’t know you’ve got a head injury as well.” Clint ducks his head cuz he totally isn’t saying that.

“I’ve had enough brain damage to last 3 life times, Clint.”

“and I’ve had more concussion than all the Avengers combined, it’s not a competition.” Clint realizes he has crossed to the ‘bitter’ side of sarcastic, he doesn’t know why he is suddenly uncomfortable with Bucky’s presence here. He jokes, in an attempt to relief the tension, “Get out of my apartment. I’m trying to meditate here.”

“I can recommend you some music.”

“no need.” because he doesn’t, and will no meditate. “just send me photos of your cat. And I retain visitation rights.”

When Clint looks up, Bucky is smiling. “sure.”