#so what if he dunked on her DID YOU NOT HEAR HIM SAY DOUBLE OR NOTHING??? that's what made it romantic!

[coquelicoq]

having the weirdest time in the love & basketball tag because everyone is hating on it in there???? calling it "problematic" like omg okay have you ever seen a romance movie. can we consider this work within its context.

[lisacameron99]

Meet The Grandparents

Warnings including but not limited to : family drama, anxiety, drama, angst, death, oc death (not main character), suicide, depression

** this is really bad, but I had this idea in my head and couldn't get rid of it **

Long AF but I don't know how to write any other way

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had a normal childhood. No psycho killer for a parent. Both still alive and loving. The only non normal part was when my mom died when I was seventeen and my 35 year old sister went missing in lieu of a case of three children going missing.

“Garcia, anything?” Hotch asked her. We were called in on the case late. There were already three victims.

“Sir, as much as I want to dazzle you with my awesomeness, I’m coming up blank.” She told them. “I’ve checked and double checked and cross checked everything I can think of and I still have zilch.”

“Have you tried checking the surrounding towns? Do everything within a 45 mile radius.” Hotch question and advised her.

“See this is why you’re the boss man and I’m just the techie that types.” She told us.

“Penelope, also double cross those names with the list of names you get with a list of teachers, nurses, and counselors.” I added in. My sister, Caroline, was a teacher. Maybe he went for the mothering type.

“Okay super. This is much more manageable and I might actually get a hit. Catch you both on the flip.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With no leads, Hotch decided it was time to try a cognitive interview.

"Alyssa, sit down." I sat down across from Hotch. "Close your eyes."

I took another shuddering breath and closed my eyes. "What am I thinking about?"

"What's your first memory with your sister?" He started off.

I thought back to my first memory with her. "We - playing at the park near my house. She use to push me on the swings. I remember her giving me under dunks."

"Did you guys always play at that park?" He continued.

"Usually, because it was so close to our house. We could walk there without crossing the highway. Just side streets. And we would go there because that's where Caroline would meet up with her friends"

"Who were her friends?"

"Ah, Callie. That was her best friend. They always played together until..." I trailed off.

"Until what?" Hotch pressed.

"When I was ten, she would've been sixteen, Callie stopped coming around. I don't remember why. I was going back and forth between Mom and Grandpas."

"Why were you at your Grandpa's so much?"

"I don't remember." I opened my eyes and stared at him.

"You do remember, close your eyes. Think back to conversations you might have overheard." He urged me. I took a deep breath, not as shakily as before, and closed my eyes. "Think back. Think back to your Grandpa's house. What do you notice?"

"It always felt so big to me when I was little. At my mom's, Caroline and I use to share a room, until I was eight. Then we moved. But I always had my own room at Grandpa's. That's when things got more stressed. Mom got another job, I started going to Grandpa's more."

"When was the first time you heard somebody talk about it."

"At Grandpas. He was talking to my mom. It must have been on the phone."

"What was he saying?"

"He's talking to my mom about Caroline getting in trouble. I can't hear everything."

"What can you hear?"

"Grandpa is mad. He doesn't get mad often."

"What is he mad about?"

"He's mad because Mom won't punish Caroline."

"What did she do?"

"He's yelling -- he's yelling about it. About - about how Caroline had a meeting with her school counselor. I don't - I don't remember anything else." I opened my eyes and stared at Hotch.

"You did great." He told me, giving me his rare smile.

"I hardly remembered anything." I protested.

"You remembered more than you thought. You gave us a lot of details. Like your sister meeting with the school counselor. That let's us know it was probably because she was bullying. She got in trouble at school."

"Hotch." Rossi said from the door.

"What is it Rossi?"

"Penelope found something on Caroline's phone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Penelope sat with me as the team found the location of Caroline. I knew when Spencer and the rest of the team came in that something bad had happened.

I opened my mouth to ask, but no words came out. Spencer looked at JJ.

JJ kneeled in front of me. I gripped Penelope's hand tight.

"When Penelope got onto Caroline's phone, she found a note." JJ said.

"What kind of note?"

"It was a suicide note. Your sister died from suicide. She was racked with guilt from the incident years ago with the boys and then the shooting. She died a few days ago." All of the words JJ was saying slowly became quieter and quieter. There was a ringing in my ears and everything turned dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We got to my grandpa's house, thankfully Rossi and JJ had let him know. I wouldn't have been able to tell them.

I walked into the house, dazed.

"Oh, sweetheart." Grandpa said, pulling me into a hug. I hugged him tightly. "Okay, we're going to be okay." I pulled back and moved back by Spencer. I gripped his hand tightly. "Who's this?"

"This is Spencer."

"Your boyfriend." He nodded to Spencer. Thankfully, I told my grandpa about Spencer's weird habits and he didn't try to make physical content with Spencer. "Well, I'm Henry."

"Spencer."

"I wish we were meeting under different circumstances."

"Me too, sir."

He waved his hand. "None of that. Sir makes me feel old, and I'm not that."

I smiled softly at my grandpa. He always could make me smile.

"Dad, who was at the door - oh Alyssa!" My grandma barreled into the room.

"Grandma." I hugged her tight.

"Oh, baby. It's been too long." She pressed her hand to my cheek for a moment before looking at Spencer. "You must be Spencer."

"I am, it's nice to meet you. Alyssa talks very highly of you." Spencer smiled at her.

"She is our baby." Grandma told him. "I made supper, you need to eat."

I tried to protest, but Spencer spoke up. "You haven't eaten since lunch yesterday."

I pursed my lips and looked at Grandma who was glaring at me.

"Kitchen."

"Yes, ma'am." I walked into the kitchen. "Grandpa! Grandma and Spencer are ganging up on me." I whined.

"Honey, leave the girl alone. She's been home for less than fifteen minutes."

"She needs to eat." Grandma said, coming into the kitchen, Spencer following.

"That's true." Grandpa said. "Good thing Grandma made your favorite."

"You made ravioli?" My eyes widened in surprise.

"Honey, you really didn't think I was going to make you come home after Caroline..." Grandma trailed off.

I bit my lip. "Well, I'm here now." I smiled softly at her.

"That's true." Grandpa agreed. "And we finally get to meet Spencer here."

I smiled at Spencer, who was looking at me with a smile. Even when the whole world was dark, he was always my sunshine.

"Caroline would have loved this." I said sitting at the table. "Family dinners were her favorite."

"We stopped doing them when your mom died. It became to painful." Grandma said.

"It was painful." I agreed with her.

"We can start doing it again more regularly." Grandpa decided. "We live close enough."

"We can come up if we aren't on a case." Spencer told them.

"That would be just lovely." Grandma smiled at the two of us.

"Welcome to the family, Spence." I whispered to him.

"Happy to be here." He leaned over and kissed my forehead.

End.

This is really bad but I had this thought and had to write it down. If you or anybody is in need of help, please call # 988.

[realityjoey]

CRUSHING (RILEY ANDERSON MC x EVAN BUCKLEY)

Riley Anderson stood outside the 118 station, the early morning sun casting a warm glow over the building. Six months. It had been six months since she moved from the North of England to Los Angeles, and yet, the sensation of being in a foreign land hadn’t worn off. The city’s hustle and bustle was worlds away from the quiet countryside she’d known back home. But she loved it—the noise, the energy, the people. Most of all, she loved her job.

Working as a firefighter for the 118 had been a dream come true. Though it wasn’t without its challenges, especially when it came to standing out in more ways than one. Everywhere she went, she was noticed. Her natural beauty certainly played a part—tall, fit, with striking features—but it was her thick Northern English accent that had everyone doing double takes. People adored it. The constant, “Say that again?” and “I love your accent!” had gotten old fast, but it was something she’d learned to laugh off.

Inside the station, the familiar sound of laughter and clattering equipment greeted her. As Riley strolled into the locker room, Hen and Chimney were already gearing up for the day’s shift.

“Morning, Anderson!” Chim called out, flashing her a cheeky grin. “Did you bring your tea with you today? We wouldn’t want you to suffer without it.”

Riley smirked, rolling her eyes. “I’ll have you know, Chim, not every Brit is glued to a cup of tea.”

“Is that so?” Hen chimed in with a grin. “Because I seem to remember you getting quite defensive when we ran out of Earl Grey last week.”

“That’s because American tea is abysmal,” Riley shot back, her accent thickening as she played into their jokes.

She wasn’t even surprised when Buck wandered in at that moment, catching the tail end of the conversation. Evan Buckley—or Buck, as everyone called him—was the biggest instigator when it came to her “Britishness.” Every chance he got, he’d throw in a quip about her accent, or her country, or even her phrasing. It was like his go-to method of flirting. And flirt he did, constantly, though in the oddest ways.

Buck leaned against a locker, a smug grin playing on his lips. “What’s this I hear about tea, Anderson? Got your biscuits ready too?”

“Keep talking, Buckley, and I’ll dunk you in the nearest river,” Riley shot back, slamming her locker shut with a grin.

“Ooh, feisty today,” Buck teased, though his eyes lingered on her a little too long. There it was—that brief moment where his usual banter gave way to something deeper. A touch that lingered a bit longer, a look that said more than his words. Riley was no fool; she’d noticed the way Buck’s teasing had shifted in recent weeks. It wasn’t just lighthearted mocking anymore—there was something more behind it.

But he had a funny way of showing it. Instead of just coming out and saying what he felt, Buck hid behind his jokes, especially the ones that edged on dirty. Only, Riley knew better than to think they were just jokes.

Before she could respond, the familiar shrill of the alarm cut through the room. A call. They sprang into action, heading out to the trucks in a well-practiced routine. Riley pulled her gear on, focused on the task ahead, but she couldn’t help but feel Buck’s eyes on her as they geared up. He was always watching, always hovering just a little too close.

The call wasn’t anything too serious—a small kitchen fire in a nearby apartment complex. By the time they arrived, the fire was under control, but there was still work to be done. Riley and Buck worked together, their usual rhythm in sync as they moved through the building, clearing out smoke and ensuring the fire was fully out.

“Hey, Anderson,” Buck’s voice came from behind her as they worked side by side. “You know, in the States, we call these ‘pants,’ not ‘trousers.’ Just thought I’d educate you.”

Riley, already kneeling down to check a section of scorched cabinets, shot him a deadpan look. “Is that so? And what do you call ‘annoying coworkers’ in the States? Is it still ‘Buckley’?”

Buck chuckled, stepping closer as he crouched beside her, his arm brushing hers as he “helped” examine the cabinet she was already inspecting. “Ouch, that one hurt. You’re getting better at this.”

“Thought I’d throw you a bone.” She looked up, catching his eye, and for a split second, something shifted between them. It wasn’t just playful banter anymore. Buck’s usual teasing smirk softened as he held her gaze, and Riley felt a flicker of something she wasn’t quite ready to confront. She quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the work at hand, but Buck’s presence remained heavy beside her.

“You know,” Buck said after a moment, his voice dropping to something lower, more serious, “I think the team’s right. You do stand out here, Anderson.”

Riley raised an eyebrow, still not looking at him. “Is this another ‘British’ thing?”

“Nah,” Buck said, his voice soft, “this is a you thing.”

Riley swallowed, the playful energy between them shifting. Before she could respond, Chimney’s voice called from the next room, breaking the tension.

“Hey, lovebirds, you done in there?”

Buck was on his feet in an instant, his usual grin back in place. “Coming!” he called out before giving Riley a wink. “We’ll finish this conversation later, yeah?”

She shook her head, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “In your dreams, Buckley.”

But as they finished the call and headed back to the station, Riley couldn’t shake the feeling that Buck wasn’t entirely joking this time. Something between them had changed, and whether she was ready to admit it or not, the way he looked at her made her pulse quicken just a little faster.

[eddiesblklvr]

FIX YOUR FACE. | JACK HARLOW

PAIRING: jack harlow x black!fem!reader

SUMMARY: “fix your face before i sit on it.”

WARNINGS: arguing, mentions of oral (f)

WORD COUNT: 900+

A/N: i got my idea from this tiktok. i love his page 😭 this took me two hours to write btw!

SKYE’S NAV. | JACK HARLOW M.LIST | REQUESTS

jack, druski, urban, and the rest of the group were chilling in the living room, laughing and making jokes. the front door opening and slamming shut, followed by a loud groan interrupts them.

they see her walking through into the living room, a few bags in hand. her long butterfly locs sway with every step she took, her sunglasses sitting perfectly on top of her nose. she’s wearing low rise black jeans, a hot pink tank topped cropped top that looked like it had been cut, and a pair of hot pink and white dunks.

she has her signature waist chain on, along with her playboy bunny belly ring sitting right above it, her butterfly nose ring in, and the many rings resting on each of her fingers (besides her thumbs).

she looks way too good.

“don’t fuckin’ hey me,” she snaps, narrowing her eyes. she drops the bags at her feet before stomping through the living room and into the kitchen.

“damn,” urban mutters, looking surprised as everyone watches the girl stomp away, but continues to roll up his blunt. visibly confused, jack stands from his place on the couch and follows his girlfriend into the kitchen.

“damn,” urban mutters, looking surprised as everyone watches the girl stomp away, but continues to roll up his blunt. visibly confused, jack stands from his place on the couch and follows his girlfriend into the kitchen.

“baby, what’s wrong? why’re you mad at me?”

“so you can sit on your phone all day scrolling through tiktoks and shit, but you can’t answer the phone?” she says bitterly, cocking her head to the side, with her hands crossed over her chest.

“when did you text me?”

“i didn’t text you, i called you four times!”

“y/n, come on, bro—”

“i’m not your ’bro’, first of all,” jack huffs, shaking his head, not even bothering to argue with her, how stubborn she was. he can admit, she did have a right to be upset with him because she was right, he hadn’t done anything all day. “so fix that shit right now.”

“okay, okay. you’re right, i’m sorry. i should’ve answered the phone,” he admits, lazily blinking his eyes while slowly nodding his head.

once again, she narrows her eyes at him. the look on her face causing her not to believe him. “you don’t even care. you know what, goodbye. i’m done talking,” she shakes her head, turning her body away from him to walk further into the kitchen. after a few seconds of silence, she turns around and sees her boyfriend still standing there, a deadpan look on his face. she waves him off, “bye, go sit with your friends.”

“now you’re doing too much. it’s not that deep.”

“how am i doing too much? i could’ve got kicked in my fuckin’ back, broke my leg, got drop kicked, and you wouldn’t know ‘cause you act like you can’t answer the phone!” they can hear the group in the living room snickering, trying not to make it noticeable that they’re listening. jack rolls his eyes before dragging his hands down his face.

“uh, is there a problem? fix your face before i sit on it.” jack immediately breaks, laying his head on the island as he laughs loudly. the group’s snickers turned into loud cackles as they double over in their seats.

“oh, a’ight, ‘cause i would’ve did it. im’a still do it after i get done talking to you,” she pauses, snacking her lips together, “jackman, get up!”

it takes him a few seconds but once he finally controls himself, he looks back up at his gorgeous girlfriend, smirking at the still annoyed look on her face, “okay, baby, keep going.”

“i’m just saying you need to answer the phone when i call, that’s it.”

when she turns her back to him, jack can’t keep his eyes from trailing over every inch of her body. he loves the way her waist chain fits perfectly around her waist and how her jeans fit so snug around her ass and thighs. he couldn’t stress enough how beautiful she is to him.

jack walks out of the kitchen and back into the living room, sighing with his hands resting on his hips. he doesn’t make eye contact with any of the guys, keeping his gaze on the floor. his friends are all looking dead at him, smirks set on each of their faces. “y’all gotta go,” he says, finally looking up at his group of friends, watching as they all fall back into their own fits.

“hey, can’t even blame you, brother,” druski speaks up, already standing from his seat. jack escorts them all out, tuning out their hysterics, too busy thinking about what’s about to go down as soon as he locks the front door.

quickly, he makes his way back into the kitchen, not even bothering to speak up. he turns his girlfriend around to face him before throwing her over his shoulder, grunting a little at the extra weight put onto it.

“jack!” she hollers, giggling while pushing herself up against his back. he continues to walk the two up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom, setting her down on the floor before dramatically falling back onto the bed.

“alright, mama, let’s go,” he smiles, watching the beauty before him continue to giggle while slipping out of her clothes. she ties her hair up into a bun before crawling onto the bed, attacking jack’s body and face with kisses.

she missed and loved him way too much to stay mad at him over something as petty as a few missed calls.

[l0v3buged]

Pairings : Jason Todd x reader , kori x dick

Word count : 784

Warnings : pure fluff , cursing

A/n: jason may be out of character IVE only read like 5 issues of his comics but i kindaa stayed true to DICKKORYS characters (I’ve only seen teen titans so it’ll be chaotic like that show 😭)

Summary: double dates and some pranks

art by camiloart on Instagram

The sun was hitting your face in all of the perfect places. But of course, what gets you out of your peaceful state is Jason todd.

You’ve memorized his voice, mostly because you guys spend every waking second together. But because nothing truly makes you happier than hearing his voice.

Jason whispered to Dick, “she looks so beautiful right?”

“Oh wow is the big bad guy really turning soft?”

Jason rolled his eyes and smiled over towards you, you were now laying down.

You, Dick, Kori, and Jason decided to do a double date going paddle boarding. But whenever Dick and Jason are in the same room there always seems to be chaos and well tons of arguing.

“Boys stop bickering and let’s enjoy the day,” Kory says. Dick looks over at Kory and seems dazed.

“Oh Jesus, someone kill me again.”

You snap up and yell at Jason, “Todd! Okay if our boyfriends would stop acting like they are whipped for one god damn second. Let’s mother fucking race.”

You start paddling faster, being the lazy shit you are, you sit down and paddle. But when you notice that they all started standing up you did too.

Grayson and Todd were next to each other when Jason got an idea, “hey I wanna dunk her.”

“You guys are seriously the best match, she curses, you curse. You make those god-awful jokes, she yells at you. You mess with her, she messes with you back.”

Jason gives him a scared look.

Dick smiles, “yeah if you mess with her especially on a date she’s going to kill you.”

Jason gulps but sighs, “eh worth it.”

Dick smiles. And continues to paddle faster to kori.

“What are you trying to get at Dick?”

“I’m just proud of you. First you were like so cold towards her then you realized maybe you had a lot of stuff in common with someone as soft and loving as her and shit I don’t even know how she made you so happy.”

“Uh-huh, well I’m going to go tick off my perfect match then.”

Kory and you were paddling really fast trying to get to the same island before the other. You guys were both laughing. Dick was paddling close behind, Jason saw this as his moment. But he couldn’t, not yet. He loved that sound, your laugh.

He got closer, but you hadn’t noticed. You were too busy trash-talking Kory.

He looked over at Dick wavering his mischievous smile. Dick simply shook his head and smiled.

Jason turned his head towards you and knelt down on his paddleboard, he moved up his arms towards you and at that moment you saw him and smiled that confused smile but in that last second, you realized.

“Jason you idiot,”.

He then pushed her into the water. She gave him a glaring look.

“Aw, babe I’m sorry.”

God, you really hated him right now.

You felt something caress your leg and you gave a yelp.

Dick and Kory were already on the island by now. So you weren’t too embarrassed by your outburst. But you were terrified of marine life and bugs, and Jason knew that. There were times he would hear you screaming and he'd be there to save the day.

But he sorta forgot.

“Oh shit Cariño ,” and with that, he jumped into the water and swam over to you.

When he was next to you he hurriedly scooped you into his arms.

“Todd, not cool.”

“It was funny though you have got to admit.”

“Get me back on the paddleboard shit head.”

He laughed and helped you back on. He got onto his paddleboard too and moved his next to yours. “So Grayson said we were the perfect match.”

“Did he now?” Everyone knows you saved him, but no one quite knows how much he’s helped you see the light of life.

It wasn’t as dark as his past. But you truly didn’t have anyone until you met the bat fam and sure it took months to warm up to Jason. Let alone realize you were catching feelings, but he made you live again. To realize that maybe life wasn’t just about closing yourself off but about being vulnerable.

Before he could answer back Dick and Kory were paddling next to you guys. And Kory kicked him off of his paddleboard. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Dick was paddling in the water, “Not cool.”

Kory smiled and dived into the water and carried him in her arms. “Is this better?”

Dick nodded and said “much”.

You looked over at Todd laughing at how much of a dork his brother was.

You really could stay in this moment forever.

[esther-dot]

Moonmaid is came in Jon, Jaime and Arianne chapters. With Jon it's about stealing a girl, with Jaime it's about saving a maid and with Arianne it's about crowning a girl who she took away with her.

That is definitely an interesting set of references to the Moonmaid, anon. It all feels very Girl in Grey/Jonsa reunion, doesn’t it? 👀

Here’s the initial mention in a Jon POV:

We look up at the same stars, and see such different things. The King's Crown was the Cradle, to hear her tell it; the Stallion was the Horned Lord; the red wanderer that septons preached was sacred to their Smith up here was called the Thief. And when the Thief was in the Moonmaid, that was a propitious time for a man to steal a woman, Ygritte insisted. "Like the night you stole me. The Thief was bright that night."

"I never meant to steal you," he said. "I never knew you were a girl until my knife was at your throat." (ASOS, Jon III)

Here’s Jaime’s:

Jaime lay on his back afterward, staring at the night sky, trying not to feel the pain that snaked up his right arm every time he moved it. The night was strangely beautiful. The moon was a graceful crescent, and it seemed as though he had never seen so many stars. The King's Crown was at the zenith, and he could see the Stallion rearing, and there the Swan. The Moonmaid, shy as ever, was half-hidden behind a pine tree. How can such a night be beautiful? he asked himself. Why would the stars want to look down on such as me?

"Jaime," Brienne whispered, so faintly he thought he was dreaming it. "Jaime, what are you doing?" (ASOS, Jaime IV)

The Arianne quote:

The moon had crowned the Moonmaid as they set out from the dust-dry ruins of Shandystone, striking south and west. Arianne and Ser Arys took the lead, with Myrcella on a frisky mare between them. Garin followed close behind with Spotted Sylva, whilst her two Dornish knights took the rear. We are seven, Arianne realized as they rode. She had not thought of that before, but it seemed a good omen for their cause. Seven riders on their way to glory. One day the singers will make all of us immortal. Drey had wanted a larger party, but that might have attracted unwelcome attention, and every additional man doubled the risk of betrayal. That much my father taught me, at the least. (AFFC, The Queenmaker)

I haven’t paid enough attention to the discussion of stars/constellations to offer real insight, but I did find these quotes that, if we’re running with the girl in grey theory are pretty interesting:

“I might be. I never knew my mother, or what became of her. Maybe I was born too big and killed her. Most like she was some whore or tavern girl. You don't find highborn ladies down in Flea Bottom. And if she ever wed my father . . . well, what became of him , then?" Dunk did not like to be reminded of his life before Ser Arlan found him. "There was a pot shop in King's Landing where I used to sell them rats and cats and pigeons for the brown. The cook always claimed my father was some thief or cutpurse. 'Most like I saw him hanged,' he used to tell me, 'but maybe they just sent him to the Wall.' When I was squiring for Ser Arlan, I would ask him if we couldn't go up that way someday, to take service at Winterfell or some other northern castle. I had this notion that if I could only reach the Wall, might be I'd come on some old man, a real tall man who looked like me. We never went, though. Ser Arlan said there were no hedges in the north, and all the woods were full of wolves." He shook his head. "The long and short of it is, most like you're squiring for a bastard."

For once Egg had nothing to say. The gloom was deepening around them. Lantern bugs moved slowly through the trees, their little lights like so many drifting stars. There were stars in the sky as well, more stars than any man could ever hope to count, even if he lived to be as old as King Jaehaerys. Dunk need only lift his eyes to find familiar friends: the Stallion and the Sow, the King's Crown and the Crone's Lantern, the Galley, Ghost, and Moonmaid. But there were clouds to the north, and the blue eye of the Ice Dragon was lost to him, the blue eye that pointed north. (The Sworn Sword)

Obviously, this isn’t a strictly Sansa thing, but there are several references to using the blue eye of the ice dragon to go North/to the Wall…

  "Osha," Bran asked as they crossed the yard. "Do you know the way north? To the Wall and . . . and even past?"

"The way's easy. Look for the Ice Dragon, and chase the blue star in the rider's eye." She backed through a door and started up the winding steps.  (ACOK, Bran V)

 No roads ran through the twisted mountain valleys where they walked now. Between the grey stone peaks lay still blue lakes, long and deep and narrow, and the green gloom of endless piney woods. The russet and gold of autumn leaves grew less common when they left the wolfswood to climb amongst the old flint hills, and vanished by the time those hills had turned to mountains. Giant grey-green sentinels loomed above them now, and spruce and fir and soldier pines in endless profusion. The undergrowth was sparse beneath them, the forest floor carpeted in dark green needles.

When they lost their way, as happened once or twice, they need only wait for a clear cold night when the clouds did not intrude, and look up in the sky for the Ice Dragon. The blue star in the dragon's eye pointed the way north, as Osha told him once.  (ASOS, Bran II)

 Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, but above him the clouds were breaking up. Jon searched the sky until he found the Ice Dragon, then turned the mare north for the Wall and Castle Black. The throb of pain in his thigh muscle made him wince as he put his heels into the old man's horse. I am going home, he told himself. But if that was true, why did he feel so hollow?

He rode till dawn, while the stars stared down like eyes. (ASOS, Jon V)

So, it’s possible the idea of following the stars will come up in a Sansa chapter and Jonsas have speculated. I’m thinking @fedonciadale was the one who came up with the theory that Jon may rescue Sansa while she’s fleeing Ramsay in the woods. None of us want Sansa to have a brush with that monster, but the idea of stealing a woman has always seemed like something that would come up in a positive way in a Jon chapter, and such a rescue would work with a loose translation of “stealing.” All these references to the Thief in the Moonmaid would work as a build up to a pivotal point in the series if it were to make an appearance during this scene. Martin even brought up again in ADWD:

   "No," said Jon. "Bring them. I have a use for them."

They had no moon to guide them home, and only now and then a patch of stars. The world was black and white and still. It was a long, slow, endless trek. The snow clung to their boots and breeches, and the wind rattled the pines and made their cloaks snap and swirl. Jon glimpsed the red wanderer above, watching them through the leafless branches of great trees as they made their way beneath. The Thief, the free folk called it. The best time to steal a woman was when the Thief was in the Moonmaid, Ygritte had always claimed. She never mentioned the best time to steal a giant. Or two dead men.

It was almost dawn before they saw the Wall again. (ADWD, Jon VII)

A moment when Jon successfully rescues a Stark girl feels inevitable because of how Martin likes to have the text talk to itself with patterns, parallels and contrasts, and Jon rescuing a Stark girl is a positive version of R/L (abduction).  Fedonciadale has speculated that the rescue may happen while Jon is warged into Ghost, and we have an interesting little tidbit about Ghostie near the raven calling out “thief”.

 It was still dark when Jon returned to his chambers behind the armory. Ghost was not yet back, he saw. Still hunting. The big white direwolf was gone more oft than not of late, ranging farther and farther in search of prey. Between the men of the Watch and the wildlings down in Mole's Town, the hills and fields near Castle Black had been hunted clean, and there had been little enough game to begin with. Winter is coming, Jon reflected. And soon, too soon. He wondered if they would ever see a spring.

Dolorous Edd made the trek to the kitchens and soon was back with a tankard of brown ale and a covered platter. Under the lid Jon discovered three duck's eggs fried in drippings, a strip of bacon, two sausages, a blood pudding, and half a loaf of bread still warm from the oven. He ate the bread and half an egg. He would have eaten the bacon too, but the raven made off with it before he had the chance. "Thief," Jon said, as the bird flapped up to the lintel above the door to devour its prize.

"Thief," the raven agreed. (ADWD, Jon VIII)

This quote made me squint because the raven is just repeating the word, it’s innocuous becuase it often does, except, several of the more famous raven lines are about Jon’s identity and the most popular of those happens in ADWD:

The day had come. It was the hour of the wolf. Soon enough the sun would rise, and four thousand wildlings would come pouring through the Wall. Madness. Jon Snow ran his burned hand through his hair and wondered once again what he was doing. Once the gate was opened there would be no turning back. It should have been the Old Bear to treat with Tormund. It should have been Jaremy Rykker or Qhorin Halfhand or Denys Mallister or some other seasoned man. It should have been my uncle. It was too late for such misgivings, though. Every choice had its risks, every choice its consequences. He would play the game to its conclusion.

He rose and dressed in darkness, as Mormont's raven muttered across the room. "Corn," the bird said, and, "King," and, "Snow, Jon Snow, Jon Snow." That was queer. The bird had never said his full name before, as best Jon could recall. (ADWD, Jon XII)

 We don’t need the raven shouting “thief” at Jon to mean anything, Jonsas have talked a lot about how Bael the Bard features prominently in Jon’s and Sansa’s story so there’s ample reason to believe that one way or the other, he will “steal” (rescue) her, but, this section felt familiar and that’s for two reasons. First, Martin started referring to girls as “prizes” a lot and here are some interesting quotes about that:

He glanced at the letter again. I will save your sister if I can. A surprisingly tender sentiment from Stannis, though undercut by that final, brutal if I can and the addendum and find a better match for her than Ramsay Snow. But what if Arya was not there to be saved? What if Lady Melisandre's flames had told it true? Could his sister truly have escaped such captors? How would she do that? Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she's just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth.

What if Bolton never had his sister? (ADWD, Jon VII)

and

 "Beyond the Wall."

Septon Cellador sucked in his breath. "The king's prize. His Grace will be most wroth to find her gone."

"Val will return." Before Stannis, if the gods are good. (ADWD, Jon VIII)

and

Jon sighed. He was weary of explaining that Val was no true princess. No matter how often he told them, they never seemed to hear. "You are persistent, Ser Axell, I grant you that."

"Do you blame me, my lord? Such a prize is not easily won. A nubile girl, I hear, and not hard to look upon. Good hips, good breasts, well made for whelping children." (ADWD, Jon X)

Hhhmmmm…Bolton never had Arya, but the theory is, Ramsay could be pursuing Sansa in the woods, and Sansa is kinda a princess… and we’re getting references to Jon as king and now a “princess” as the king’s prize...nothing solid, but it is all very interesting! Especially when we think about this passage:

His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken.

Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. (AGOT, Jon I)

Idk anon, you may be onto something!

[elvish-sky]

Totally and Completely in Love {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: I’m extremely proud of this. I’ve worked on it for two weeks and just really love it. I think it’s actually my favorite thing I’ve ever written, so it would mean so much to me if you guys let me know what you think of it.

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Hey! Can I request a Legolas x (human)reader where the reader is on the quest with the fellowship and she gets a really bad fever along the way (my idea was she passes out and Legolas carries her and takes care of her - but that's just an idea, you can make it any way you wish!) and while she's in fever shaking and high temperature she accidentally admits her feelings for Legolas not even knowing what she says cause she's so very ill. With lots of fluff along the way - fluff in your fics is just amazing 🥺 OH AND plus Aragorn who's shipping them the whole time like he always does! I was thinking about this for a long time and I just had to request it! Thank you so so so sooo muchh ❤️❤️❤️ Lots of love!

Word Count: 4, 318 ....oops. My bad.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Summary: You catch a cold and Legolas takes care of you.

Warnings: Swears, sickness/fever

****

Totally and Completely in Love

You dove under the water, probing with your hands until you hit what you thought was an ankle. Yanking it, you felt the person attached stumble and join you under the water. You came up for air, laughing to see Merry spluttering as he recovered from his sudden dunking.

Leaving Rivendell some days previously, you had been excited for the journey and adventure you were about to embark on. Now, though, you were starting to feel a little worse for wear. After spotting the small waterfall and pool it flowed into, you and the hobbits had begged Aragorn to stop early for the day, desperate to wash up. After a lot of begging, he had finally agreed, and here you were.

Aragorn had wanted to get a more thorough grasp of the terrain if you were to be camping here, and Legolas and Gimli had volunteered to join him. Aragorn had rolled his eyes, knowing that he would spend a lot of time breaking up arguments and friendly competitions between the two, but they left. (You fondly recalled the time when, after a long day of walking, the two had started a competition to find the most firewood. It had ended with them having a tug-of-war with a large log while the rest of the group rolled around laughing at them, which doubled when Aragorn chopped the log in half, causing them each to fall back on their asses.) While they scouted, Sam got a fire going, and Boromir and Gandalf did who knows what, you and the other three hobbits had decided to go wash your clothes. Merry and Pippin had quickly started a fight, however, and upon seeing them in the pool with the mist spraying into the air, creating rainbows, you had stripped down to your underthings and joined them, determined to win, while Frodo looked on and called out advice from a nearby rock. It was freezing, uncomfortably so, but it was worth it to be able to feel even a little bit clean again.

“Nice one, Y/N!” he cried out now, nodding his approval as you dunked Pippin. You ignored the fact that as a human, you had a size advantage over the small hobbits, and proceeded to do a victory lap in the water.

Swimming around, you admired the natural beauty that you had somehow stumbled upon. Small cliffs rose around you, about the height of a small oak tree, sheltering the little lagoon. The waterfall cascaded down the rocks into the pool of shimmering blue water, which filtered out between a small gap in the rocks, forming a river. The green leaves of the trees were reflected in the water, giving it a teal tint, and the sun made the grains in the rocks sparkle. All of this gave the small area a truly ethereal look.

You were suddenly startled from your reverie by two hobbit-sized shapes crashing into you from above. While you had been admiring the scenery, Merry and Pippin had climbed onto the rocks to ambush you. Forcing your head underwater, they giggled as you came back up, gasping. Their amusement quickly turned to fear as you turned to them with a devilish glint in your eyes. You tackled them and smirked as their faces turned to twin looks of outrage. “What was that for?”

“You guys jumped me! I did what I had to do.” You leaned back in the water, very pleased with yourself as you heard a stifled chuckle from the nearby rocks.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you, Frodo?” Pippin was advancing on him now, looking comically angry. Merry grabbed him and whispered something in his ear that you couldn’t quite hear. Pippin nodded, his face turning serious.

“We should go back to the campsite, see if there’s any food.” Merry was now climbing onto the shore and tucking his shirt into his wet trousers.

“You just want to steal some of Sam’s stew before everyone else!” Pippin elbowed him. “And what if I do?” Merry set off running towards the campsite, Pippin following him with a curse and a shout of, “Now he’ll eat it all and there’ll be none left for me!”

You made your way onto the shore a bit more sedately. Once out of the water, you began shivering and hastened to get redressed. Frodo had looked away, blushing, when you climbed out of the water, and you teased him. “C’mon Frodo, everything important is covered!”

This was true, you had kept your wrappings over your chest on, as well as your other undergarments. “Still,” the hobbit kept his eyes averted as you tugged your tunic over your head, lacing it as you spoke, “it’s not proper.” You shook your head at him in pretend exasperation. “I’m decent, let us go see if Merry really did eat all the stew.”

Sitting around the fire with your companions, you would have been quite content had you still not been so cold. Sam’s stew had warmed you for a little while, but now you were hunched over in your still-damp clothes, shivering. “Are you all right, Y/N?” Legolas looked down at you from his perch on the log next to you, concern in his eyes. “Yes,” you nodded, teeth chattering. “Just cold.”

“Well, maybe Legolas could warm you up?” Aragorn winked at you.

“No!” you cried, and then leaned over and punched Aragorn’s arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” he exclaimed, but you just sat back, pleased with yourself, yet still shivering.

Legolas looked uncertain for a second, then wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to his warmth. You unconsciously pressed closer against him, drawn to the heat emanating from his body. As you did, he stiffened. He then jumped up, leaving you sitting there, confused as he made his way over to his pack. Grabbing something, he came back over and held it out to you.

“You’re freezing because your clothing is soaked!” He informed you and the group of this. “Yes, Legolas, I know. I’m the one wearing the soaked clothes.” You attempted to say this deadpan, but it was ruined by the clicking sound of your teeth chattering.

“Well, I was thinking- I don’t have pants that’ll fit you, but you can wear my tunic.” He blushed. “It might be a little large, but at least it’s dry.”

“Oh, no Legolas, I’m fine, really.” You didn’t want him to notice how you were nervously playing with your hair, something you always did when embarrassed.

“Really, Y/N. Take it.” He shook it at you, and, sighing, you stood and grabbed it out of his hand. “Thank you, Legolas.” You made your way to the edge of the campsite, grabbing a new set of wrappings for your breasts before disappearing into the forest to change.

Behind a tree, you lifted the damp tunic over your head and rewrapped your chest with practiced ease. You then pulled Legolas’ soft tunic on. It was rather large on you, falling a little lower on your legs than yours usually did. It hit your waist at a nice angle, however, accentuating it nicely. The real issue was the neckline. It had no laces and was much deeper than you usually wore, exposing a lot more skin than you were used to. After unsuccessfully trying to close the v-neck in some way, you gave up and just prayed no one would look too closely.

Walking back into the campsite, you draped your wet tunic over your pack, hoping it would dry overnight.

“I feel much warmer now, thank you.” You sat back down on the log next to Legolas. His eyes drifted across your body, taking in the sight of you in his clothes. “It looks good on you.” He blushed, and you tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear, feeling rather pleased by the compliment.

“Hey, lovebirds!” came a shout from across the fire. Boromir was sitting with Merry and Pippin and was unwrapping something encased in leaves. You quickly scooched apart from Legolas, fidgeting, and craned your neck to see what Boromir had.

“What is that?” Legolas was just as curious, and just as embarrassed.

“While you were all off doing stuff earlier, I went and gathered some berries!” Boromir finished unwrapping them and held them up triumphantly. You could see strawberries and blueberries spilling out onto the leaves, and licked your lips in anticipation. After taking a few, Boromir passed the pouch around the fire, and everyone took a couple. You bit into a strawberry, savoring the sweetness.

“These are delicious, thank you, Boromir.” Aragorn was trying to speak around a mouthful of blueberries, which just caused the blue juice to run down his chin. Soon, you were all giggling at each other devouring the fruit, not caring if any got on your faces. Even Gandalf had a streak of blue running into his long grey beard, a fact that amused Pippin greatly. Finished, you leaned back with a sigh, patting your stomach with satisfaction.

“Thank you, Boromir. Truly, they were a wonderful treat.”

“Happy to, Y/N!” And indeed he did look pleased to see everyone enjoying something he had done for them.

You made your way down to the waterfall, this time accompanied by the whole Fellowship except Gandalf, who had stayed behind to tend the fire. You all splashed water on your faces to clean them of the sticky berry residue. You were careful to just get your face wet, not wanting to dampen Legolas’ tunic, but even with just your face you still got really cold again. Shivering, you turned and walked back to the campsite, admiring the stars shining above the foliage.

Reaching the campsite, you walked over to your bedroll and dragged it closer to the fire. Not so close that people would be worried, but close enough that you could hopefully soak up the meager warmth as the flames dwindled into embers overnight. You climbed in under your blanket and curled up in a ball to preserve as much body heat as possible. Lulled by the crackling of the fire and the soft murmurs of your friends getting ready for the night, you drifted off to sleep, grateful that you weren’t on the watch list that night.

“Y/N. Wake up, it’s time to go.” You were shaken awake the next morning by Legolas, who smiled at you fondly before moving on to help pack up. Stretching, you sat up and immediately recoiled. Your head hurt. And you were cold. And also somehow hot. And you felt a tad bit woozy. But you were fine, you didn’t want to hold up the journey, so you gathered the courage and emerged from your bedding, rolling it up and packing it away as you hissed in discomfort.

Walking across the campsite, your arm was grabbed by Aragorn, who pulled you off to the side. “Are you ok? You look out of sorts.” It was true, you were shaking a little bit with chills, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, I’m completely fine, Aragorn. Don’t worry about me!” You faked a smile in an attempt to prove that you were, as you said, fine. Pulling your arm out of his grasp, you shouldered your pack and set off behind Boromir.

As the day went on, you felt fainter and fainter. One second you would feel like you were a furnace, the next you thought you’d never be warm again. It was taking all your energy to focus on simply putting one foot in front of the other, but you kept going, determined not to be the cause of any delays.

After you had stopped for lunch, Legolas drifted to the back of the group to walk with you. Noticing your shakiness earlier, he had decided to check on you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” His gaze met yours, and the touching concern in his eyes almost made you stumble, although to be fair anything could have made you stumble, you were so tired at this point.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Seriously, Legolas, I’m fi-” Your body finally gave up on you, and you passed out. The elf was not expecting this and tried to catch you as you fell, succeeding only in slowing you down so that you hit the ground gently, cradled in his arms. Feeling your forehead, he sucked in a breath of shock.

“She’s burning up.” He informed the rest of the Fellowship, who were all gathered around the two of you like a bunch of concerned mother hens.

“We cannot stop yet.” Aragorn looked worried.

“I will carry Y/N until we camp for the night.” Boromir volunteered. Had you been conscious, you would have protested being carried at all. You wouldn’t have cared who you were carried by. But someone else did.

“No, Boromir. I’ll carry her.” With this Legolas scooped you into his arms, startling Boromir with his determination. Aragorn just smirked. “Let us continue, then.” And they set off, you in Legolas’ arms, head resting against his chest.

Legolas heard Pippin softly asking Aragorn questions as they moved. “I don’t understand, why did Y/N catch a cold but we did not?”

“Hobbits are hardier folk than us humans. You can withstand much harsher conditions. It is why I did not join you in the water, and I have elvish blood, so it would not have been as bad for me as it is for Y/N.” The elf secretly did not know much about humans and their sicknesses, so he found this explanation rather helpful.

Legolas kept looking down at you, marveling at how, even sick, you looked so peaceful. You wore a faint smile as if you were having a pleasant dream.

“Legolas?” You whispered, squirming in his arms. He jolted at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” He brushed your hair out of your face and saw that your eyes were still closed. He figured it was just you having a dream about the Fellowship, his name just happened to be the one you mentioned. Then you spoke again.

“I love you, Legolas.” He stopped in shock as you shifted in his arms again.

“You love me too? That’s good.” You sighed, wiggling your nose in that cute way Legolas liked, head still resting against his chest.

The elf, meanwhile, was standing there. Dumbstruck, with you fast asleep in his arms, he stood there until an unsuspecting Gimli crashed into him from behind.

“Lad! Yeh don’t just stop in the middle of the path! Keep moving!”

Legolas was still too shocked to come up with a retort, so he silently stepped to the side, letting the dwarf pass. Aragorn was next but paused to get Legolas to keep walking. “Legolas. What is wrong? Do you grow weary of carrying Y/N?”

“No!” The elf turned away from Aragorn, fearing that the man would insist on taking you.

Aragorn backed up a step, hands in the air. “Very well then. If you are not tired, why are you so on edge?”

“Y/N was talking in her sleep.”

“So? What does that have to do with yo- Legolas, why are you blushing?!” The ranger looked very amused by the flushed elf. “What, exactly, did she say?”

“She, um, well- she said she loved me.” Legolas was trying very hard not to meet Aragorn’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Aragorn had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Well, that is wonderful news! Now the two of you can stop the ridiculous flirting and pining.”

“Aragorn- you do not think she could have meant it?” Legolas was now looking at his friend, and Aragorn could see the beginnings of hope in his eyes.

“Of course she meant it! She was having a dream, about you, and told you she loved you. How could it be any clearer?”

“Well, that’s just it. It was a dream. It probably did not mean anything.” As Legolas spoke, Aragorn saw him convince himself that it was not true. “Legolas.” The blond turned his head and looked Aragorn in the eyes.

“I believe that Y/N means what she said in that dream. I have seen it in the way she acts with you. If you do not, then I cannot convince you. But I will say- ask her about it when she wakes up. Just mention the dream.”

With that Aragorn sped up, leaving a conflicted, confused, and still blushing Legolas walking slowly at the back of the group.

“I think you should tell her,” came a voice from down near his elbow. Legolas’ gaze drifted down to focus on Merry, who had somehow appeared next to him while he was lost in thought. “Tell her what?” The elf tried to deny everything, but Merry wasn’t having it.

“Tell her that you love her!” The hobbit looked so earnest that Legolas couldn’t help but listen to him. Merry continued, “I know if I loved someone, I’d want them to know. Not even because we could lose our lives at any moment, just because I think they deserve it. It’s like in the old stories Mr. Bilbo used to tell. She deserves to know you love her, Legolas. Tell her before it’s too late.”

Struck by the serious set of the hobbit’s face, and emotions in his eyes, Legolas nodded. “All right then. I guess I’ll ask her tonight.” He looked nervous, but then his eyes drifted down to look upon your sleeping form, cradled in his arms, and his face softened.

“Don’t let Boromir or Gimli see you looking at her like that, though- they’ll think you’ve gone soft!” And with that, Merry bounded back up to walk with Pippin.

Legolas was again by himself (well, not entirely, you were still there, but that might not count because you were unconscious), left to mull over his thoughts. He had been bluffing with Merry, he was most certainly not going to ask you about your feelings for him that night, but reflecting on the hobbit’s words something struck him. You were all on a perilous quest, it would be better for you to know now. And he could just ask you about your dream, inquire after your sleep. He didn’t have to confess to anything unless you did- which he was sure wasn’t going to happen, who could love him? But it did sound like a decent plan, so he decided to go through with it.

Just as that thought of resolve crossed his brain, you stirred. Opening your eyes, you gazed blearily at the world around you until your gaze came to rest on the face above you.

Blinking, it came into focus. “Legolas? What- why are you carrying me? What happened?”

“You fainted, Y/N. We think you have a fever, you must have caught a cold from swimming yesterday.” He was still walking as he spoke.

“Ok. Well, thank you for carrying me. I can walk now.”

When he didn’t, you asked again. “I’m fine, Legolas. Really, put me down.”

He still refused to do so.

“Put me down, Legolas!”

Finally, he answered. “I will not. I will carry you until we camp tonight.”

Overhearing him, Aragorn called out back to you. “Well, it’s a good thing we just found a place to camp!”

“Frodo, would you mind grabbing me Y/N’s pack from Aragorn and just spreading out her bedroll so she can rest?” Legolas was walking over to a spot he thought you would like as he spoke. Frodo came over with your bedroll, laying it out on a nice, flat area of ground. As pleased as you were, you still had to protest.

“I do not need rest, Legolas. What I need is for you to put me down!”

Sensing that perhaps it was just best to do as you said, the elf gently eased you to your feet. The second you were standing, you started to feel dizzy, and the chills came back. You fell back into Legolas’ waiting arms, too tired to stand.

“Okay, fine, maybe I do need to rest.” You yawned as he lowered you onto your bedroll, tucking the blankets in around you. “But I don’t want to be here, away from everyone. Carry me over to sit around the fire.” You made a regal face as Legolas picked you back up. The fire was crackling in the center of the small clearing, and everyone else was gathered around as Sam served supper.

“So demanding,” he muttered under his breath, jokingly. “Oh!” You were playfully offended.

He set you down, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders before settling next to you. Sam passed you a bowl of stew, and you inhaled the scent of it.

“Rabbit and potato tonight?” You could always guess what was in it.

“How do you guess right every time?” Pippin was amazed.

“I guess I just have a refined, expert sense of smell,” you declared and dug into the delicious stew.

Sighing, you placed your bowl on the ground, empty, and leaned into Legolas’ side. He stiffened, surprised, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and drawing you closer to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you. Still tired, but I’m not as cold.”

He nodded and looked back at your companions around the fire. Who, in fact, were all staring at the two of you. Again. You scooched away from the elf, realized just how cold it was away from his arms, and promptly moved back closer to him, burying your face in his chest to titters from the group around you.

“Oh, shut up.” You didn’t care, Legolas was warm and you were cold, it was as simple as that. Nothing else. Or at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

Later that night, after you had wobbled back over to your bedroll with the help of Merry and Pippin each propping you up on one side, you lay there, unable to sleep. You didn’t understand why- you were very tired, you just couldn’t sleep. Your tossing and turning must have caught the attention of the person, or rather, elf, on watch, as he came over and sat down next to you.

“Are you okay?” He looked worried.

“Fine. I just can't seem to fall asleep.” You sat up, now at eye level with the blond archer.

“Ah. Well, unfortunately, I do not know how to get you to sleep, but I can keep you company if that is all right.” You nodded, and the two of you sat there, looking up at the stars glowing in the sky, framed like a portrait by the foliage of the trees surrounding the clearing.

After a while, he spoke again. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You nodded.

“What were you dreaming about earlier?”

You tucked your hair behind your ear, embarrassed as you recalled the dream from earlier where you and Legolas had fallen in love. Deciding that denial was the best course of action here, you spoke. “I did not dream.”

“Y/N. You were talking in your sleep.”

Uh oh.

“What did I say?”

Now he was blushing. You internally prepared yourself for whatever embarrassing thing he was about to say, ready to deny your feelings.

“You, um… well, you said you loved me.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Legolas. It was just a silly, dream, it meant nothing, I don’t feel that way about you at all…” Babbling, your eyes went back to his face, unprepared for the depth of disappointment in his eyes and the sadness written there.

“You truly do not feel like that?”

After seeing his face, feeling the emotion conveyed in his voice, a small flame of hope lit in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you decided to be brave.

You took his hand, entwining your fingers with his as you took a deep breath. “I lied, Legolas. I love you.”

You saw the shock on his face. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, we can never speak of it again. We can go back to normal, this doesn’t have to be a big deal.” Your babbling was cut off by the elf.

“Y/N. I love you. Totally and completely, with every fiber of my being, I love you.”

Shyly, you reached your hand out and brushed his cheek.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s good.”

He laughed. “You said that after I told you in your dream!”

“I did?”

He nodded. “Now, let’s see if you can get some sleep. It’s late.”

He moved so that you were between his legs, head resting on his chest as he leaned up against a rock. You snuggled in close, and he began rubbing circles on your shoulder. He began to softly hum, a tune you did not recognize but liked just the same. Lulled by his soft voice and the motions of his hands, you drifted into a deep, wonderful sleep.

Legolas sat there, you in his arms, marveling at the turn of events. A movement from Aragorn’s bedroll startled him, but he made sure not to wake you up. The ranger sat up, facing him.

“I told you so.” Aragorn winked at him, looking mightily pleased with himself.

“Well, now that you’re awake, you might as well begin your shift of watch!” Legolas looked triumphant and watched as the ranger sighed and rose, moving over to sit on a boulder that overlooked the whole camp.

“Get some sleep, Legolas,” Aragorn advised.

Careful to not wake you, Legolas moved so that he was lying next to you, arm wrapped around your waist and chin resting just above your head. He sighed and felt himself slowly drift off to join you, his beloved, in the land of sleep.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @hey-its-nonny

Legolas tag: @sheriffgerard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl

[hansoulo]

you’re just a bottomless pit

part one of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW - explicit language, allusions to violence, discussions of mild harassment, mentions of being royalty, kissing, choking, light non-descriptive smut, slight elements of dubcon, boba’s a big dick gotta be what you have amirite

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: this is empire strikes back boba when he was just fucking around and finding out so i took a lot of liberties with canon don’t @ me. i offer u this picture as a helpful visual aid. merry christmas xx

�� series masterlist ༓ 

Darth Vader was to be a house guest, and you promptly dunked your head underneath your bathwater.

The perfumed pool burbled for a few seconds while you groaned, listless and in the throes of dramatics, but your attendant only clucked in sympathy. Mila was long accustomed to your disdain for the Imperials who had come to occupy more and more of the palace. So, it seemed, was everyone except the Imperials.

After a long moment you emerged from below the water, droplets of it clinging to your face and trailing into your mouth. “Another Lord?” you asked incredulously, groaning even louder when the servant nodded.

You swam the two short strokes it took to go from one end of the small pool to the other, then floated bare on your back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “Is he the one with all the strange…” motioning towards your mouth, you made a vague gesture. “Apparatus?”

“I believe so, your Highness.”

Humming noncommittally, you let your gaze trail off for a moment and stood rightside up again before returning to the bath’s edge. Its intricate tiles were cluttered with bottles, little glass tinctures and oils and soaps that all wrapped themselves around the room in a heady, heavy incense. You inhaled deeply and sighed. Lord Vader with the strange apparatus.

You couldn’t remember a time before your father, the sovereign ruler of Quas Killam, was a puppet for the permanently stationed General and a yes-man for Emperor Palpatine. Then again, you supposed it wasn’t really his fault his planet just happened to be Mid-Rim and full of exactly what the Empire needed. Being a yes-man was probably the only thing keeping his planet intact during the civil war that was supposedly raging right now.

But it was hard to feel sympathy for a man who dressed you up like a paper doll and never let your mother talk.

A soapy sponge was brought up against your back, smelling of lavender. Closing your eyes, you let Mila’s motherly hands scrub at your shoulders and arms until the skin tingled in a pleasant burn.

You picked at the tile grouts with a polished fingernail, head swimming with rows and rows of grey uniforms and white shelled armor. “Wonder why they’re here this time,” you said, speaking softly to no one in particular.

“Princess, if I may...” the older woman began.

“You may.”

“I believe they’re building another weapons factory to supply the Empire, in the north fields. Lord Vader was invited to oversee its induction.”

You kicked your legs lazily in the water, half-asleep and lulled into slowness by the refresher’s warm steam. “And I suppose he’s bringing along an entourage?” you asked, already knowing the answer. They always did, those Imperial sorts. It was just a question of how many and for how long they decided to stay, having taken any real power from your family royalty years ago after they’d discovered the trinium mines your planet was known for.

Your title had rotted of its relevance, made even lesser by the fact that you were the youngest daughter of seven. Your infant brother was being groomed for ventriloquism and you, you were being groomed for obsoletion.

Mila’s hands, roughened by years of laundry and lye soap, rubbed warm oils into your skin. “There was talk of a bounty hunter, your Highness.”

Your eyes shot open.

A bounty hunter?

 ⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷

You saw him a few weeks later, in the flurry of transport arrivals and mindless, droning ceremony. It was only a flash of his helmet, but it was enough to keep your imagination spinning for days.

Whispers from entreating servants and talk from stormtroopers that couldn’t keep their mouths shut had informed you of his reputation, his station, and his name. Boba Fett.

A particularly loose-lipped security droid regaled you with rumors of his being hired by Lord Vader, hunting a man named Han out in the Outer Rim. Quas Killam was on their way, apparently, good for information and heavy on the underworld dealings you’d always been shielded from. Truthfully, you didn’t much care. You knew no one got close to the Empire without blood on their hands. Whether they be kings or bounty hunters.

When you actually talked to the man, having been caught trying to eavesdrop on the chamber meeting he happened to be exiting the moment you leaned your ear against the door, any delusions of decorum were shattered the moment he opened his mouth. “Out of the way.”

You bristled, gathering up your skirts in a huff as you stepped away. Rude.

He was taller than you thought he’d be. Taller and broader than he looked before back on the cargo bay, a mere smudge in your peripheral vision. Now that he was alone save for you in the cavernous hallway, his words echoed on the marble tile. So much for espionage.

“My father’s in that meeting,” you replied shortly, putting on airs and doing your best to look like your mother, regal and cold.

Boba only stood there, thumbing the notches of his blaster until he caught the thin sparkle of the diadem crowning your head. A scoff, dismissive. “Then out of the way, princess.”

It wasn’t the title that bothered you. After all, it’s not like he was wrong. It was the way he said it. It was… it was patronizing! Condescending. Absolute inappropriate to a person of your station.

And, if you were being honest with yourself, more than a little attractive.

You shifted your weight onto one hip, scowling. “Don’t call me that.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, static-y and made even rougher by his helmet. “What? Princess.”

Stars, you heard that word a million times a day for a million different reasons. His saying it shouldn’t have felt so warm in your mouth.

Before you could volley back a reply, something equally biting and smarmy, the double doors he stood in front of began to groan open again.

“Better scram, little one.” Boba jerked his head towards the sound of your father’s advancing footsteps. “Daddy’s coming.”

⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷

You often dreamed about what it’d be like to leave. Your title. Your station. All the bloody bores that came along with it.

But you had never even been outside the palace grounds. Probably never would, unless your father found someone willing to marry a low-ranking princess and hoisted you over their shoulder, a piece for a game you were never taught and never allowed to play. You’d already resigned yourself to that fact and half-way convinced yourself you were okay with it. But prisons were still prisons. Even if they were made of silk.

On the eve of Lord Vader's departure, everyone in the palace was preoccupied. Your father was most likely schmoozing some Imperial officer. Your mother, in bed with yet another headache. Your governess spent the day preening over your younger brother and your handmaiden was nowhere to be seen. You had a sneaking suspicion she was with one of the guards in a dark hallway.

So you slipped out behind a servant’s entrance and looked for a place to breathe.

Hardly anyone knew about this part of the palace gardens. It was sequestered behind so many winding footpaths and barely-oiled gates that the security droids never bothered patrolling past the main entrance, making it simple to duck underneath the overgrown hedges. The air was quiet; heavy-scented with all the flowers that had been planted and forgotten, left to grow wild across the footpaths and be crushed underneath your feet.

You used to come here quite often, when you were younger and it was easier to slip away. There were long spaces in your memory made of cotton, with hazy sun-soaked afternoons and the fountain that somehow still spouted out streams of cold water from the hands of a statue, some relic of an ancient ruler who had long since died. It was only a small courtyard, made smaller by the thick surrounding hedges and large chunks of cobblestone, but it felt like a whole galaxy to you.

A few minutes passed, then an hour. Two hours. A long, slow, summer stretch of day that just confirmed the fact of your irrelevance. It was filled in only by the mindless reading of your holopad and a few short naps. But better out here alone than stuck back inside, surrounded by those insufferable stormtroopers.

Maybe you spoke too soon, because a few seconds later you were toe-to-toe with Boba Fett, your back pressed to the garden wall. Stars, you didn’t even hear him walk in.

You’d think by now you would have learned to be more careful. Listening and being listened in on.

The helmet tilted up and then down, examining your sour expression. Rolling your eyes, you slumped against the ivy-covered brick, still smarting from your encounter with him a few days prior. “Why are you here?” A haughty, affected wave of your hand. “Were you sent here to fetch me?”

The man straightened out, stepping back from you with a broadening of his already broad shoulders.  Chips in his armor reflected tiny bits of sunlight, little silver speckles on green armor that looked even greener surrounded by wild flora. He hunted people for a living, so the fact that you were made quick work of didn’t really bother you. Still, it was a bit disappointing. Having to go back to the palace was the last thing you wanted.

“The king was concerned for your safety.”

Oh for Maker’s sake. “You mean he was concerned for his reputation.”

“I was told to find you-”

“-and bring me back so I could sit in a parlor and be supervised like a child.”

“Princess,” he sighed.

There was that word again.

A heavy swallow bobbed the lump in your throat, your chest flushed and littering the space between your bodies in a low buzz. You narrowed your eyes, not trusting your own head for something more articulate, and spit the question out. “What?”

He motioned towards the footpath, one hand resting on his belt. “Let’s go.”

You only crossed your arms with a raise of an eyebrow, mind floating an acknowledgement that you were very much acting like a child who needed to be supervised.

“I don’t make a habit of tracking down spoiled royalty.”

No one had ever called you spoiled before.

It was sort of refreshing.

The man cut an imposing figure, you’d give him that. With the helmet and blaster and… armor and such. You weren’t even entirely sure you remembered to put on real shoes before coming out here, still slippered and in stocking feet. What a pair you must’ve made. Incongruous.

You cocked your head and leant against the wall with the fabric of your dress swishing out around your ankles. Caught by warm, humid winds, its layers separated themselves into thin sails before falling down together again. Rhetorical questions were blooming alongside flowers. “Are spoiled royalty below your paygrade, then?”

A tip of his helmet said yes, yes they are.

You supposed as such, with the sort of reputation he had. Skilled bounty hunter. Feared mercenary. Expensive and coveted.

A lap dog.

Maybe there was more in common between you than you thought.

Another breeze whistled past, but the man in front of you was silent. “Well,” you finally spoke, brushing away the imaginary dirt on your dress. “I don’t make a habit of following around strange men, so we’re in a bit of a bind.”

There was an edge in his voice when you moved to walk away, a gloved grip snaking up and resting a deadweight on the back of your neck. You pushed up against him. Lothcat and mouse. You were both, but he was too. “I’m not telling you again, Princess.”

If he called you that again you were sure something would happen. What that something was you had no idea, but the epithet, mocking as it was, felt too good soaking in your sternum for it not to be a catalyst.

A breathy smirk left your lips when your hips canted downward and the gauzed fabric of your dress caught on his cuisse plate. “If I didn’t know any better,” you whispered, reaching to flatten your palms across his chest, “I’d say you almost enjoyed chasing me.”

The hand on your nape tightened and his leather fingerprints dug unspoken threats into your skin that simmered, burning up and down your spine. You faked a pout. “Shame you already caught me, isn’t it?”

The grip surrounding you loosened just slightly, letting your back slide down the garden wall whose ivy-covered stone dragged at your bodice back. A small voice chirped up in the back of your head, chiding you for dirtying the delicate fabric before you willed it away, done with listening.

Boba almost growled. “Don’t push your luck.”

“My, my,” you clucked, shaking your head. Your fingers trailed towards the edges of his helmet and traced stripes where his brow bone would be. They were gold. For vengeance. “Aren’t we feeling insolent today?”

The man underneath the beskar scoffed, the palm that was at the back of your neck now wrapping itself around your outstretched wrist and pulling your hand away. You let out a quiet whine of protest, both at the loss of contact and just to see what it might do to him to hear it. When he stiffened, leaning away with every muscle seeming to tense and release and tense again, you were unreasonably pleased. There was still red blood underneath all that red paint.

Boba’s voice was clipped when he finally replied; the vowels came through strained and raspy. “I could say the same for you.”

Yes, he probably could, couldn’t he?

Then again, maybe your two wrongs could cancel out into being right and not at all compromising.

It’s not like you really did anything erroneous. Well, besides the running away part. But that was par for the course for you. All that was new was… him. And his hands. And his being alone with you. Which could possibly be construed as something wrong and compromising but how wrong could it be, really, if neither of you did anything?

Of course, this all hinged on neither of you doing anything. Compromising.

“Take the helmet off and I’ll go with you,” you offered, knowing how juvenile you sounded. You just wanted to see if he’d hear you. If he’d listen.

He did.

Boot spurs clinked as he stalked towards you, closer than he was before. It was invasive; almost chest to chest with no room for breathing as you were pushed up against the wall again, and you were met with the revelation that whatever you were toying with was probably a really, really bad idea.

Static filled your ears from the husk of his vocoder. “You know I can take you back whether you want to or not.” The roof of your mouth went dry and you remembered how Boba’s palm spanned the entire back of your neck, cradled delicately by leather fingers. He could crush your throat in one hand. Squeeze until you went limp. You wouldn’t be able to stop him. “I don’t need your permission.”

Your thumbs reached up to the lock mechanisms on either side of his head anyway. “I know.”

Fire felt good when you were close enough to be warmed by it. Whether or not you’d be burned was left to be seen.

The helmet lifted with a soft click.

Truth be told, you’re surprised he let you do it.

You dangled the helm almost carelessly by your hip, curling your fingers around the lip of it whilst your other hand stayed hovering near his face. He looked a bit older than you imagined, mid-thirties maybe, scarred and stern-looking. Handsome.

You should’ve stopped while you were ahead but all you wanted—stupid, stubborn, and yearning for a plaything—was to feel the black curls cropped close to his ears. Which probably counted as compromising.

Without the modulator Boba’s voice was deeper, the rumbling kind of richness that was used to giving orders and used to having them followed. It bore down on you as a concrete weight. “I’m not a kind man, princess.”

He forgot that you were used to giving orders too.

The coarse material of his collar chafed your palm as you held it, gripping a lifeline, and tilted your mouth up to his ear. The softness of your voice disguised your intention. It sounded innocent when you whispered it. Gentle, even. “I never said I wanted you to be.”

His lips bruised you and tasted like salt.

It was all tongue, teeth, barely cloaked violence, pressed until your throat felt raw and your heartbeat dropped below the ground to join whatever was left of your dignity. When your knees buckled, a gloved hand settled large between your shoulder blades.

You didn’t think your first kiss would be like this.

Hypothetically it would have been clinical, fumbling and awkward in your own inexperience. Out in front of a crowd somewhere after you met the eyes of a stranger at the altar. Or maybe in secret, like it was now, with a tryst of boyhood and a peck on the cheek.

Boba Fett was a stranger, but he wasn’t a boy. And this wasn’t a peck on the cheek.

You didn’t realize he had lifted you up by your hips until you were placed back down again, his having crossed the few steps from the wall to the nearby fountain with arms firmly wrapped around your middle and not so much as a strain of his hips. His strength should have scared you. It did scare you, a little, but the same hands that had gripped the blaster still at his side were deceptively gentle around your waist. You let yourself be brought down by his bended knees.

“Easy there,” Boba said, still crouching on the ground beside you as you slowly lay back on the lip of the waterwork, white noise burbling from the quiet fixtures. The flat, curved slab surrounding the shallow pool was wide enough that you needn’t worry about balancing, speckled gray stone warmed from weather and soon by skin. There was one moment where Boba allowed you to catch your breath and then it was gone, knocked out of your lungs in another assiduous touch.

“Poor thing,” he mocked, sardonic even as he cooed gently into your open mouth. Your back arched in an unwitting presentation and blood pounded a drumbeat in your ears. All you could see was Boba; his face and his shoulders and his arms braced beside your head, leaning over your horizontal form. Like you were prey. Maybe you were. “What would your father say if he saw you like this?”

He wouldn’t be able to say anything. Would stand there, mouth agape and his eyes doing that strange bulging thing it always did when you did anything besides sew embroidery squares. Fainting wasn’t out of the question. It would be ridiculously fun to watch.

You huffed, chasing Boba’s mouth with your own when he shifted above you. The midday sun hung high, edging the bounty hunter’s tanned face in white. You could see your own eyes in the reflection of his pupils, could smell his warm skin. His canines scraped your collarbones. Everything was fast, blurry, and burning.

Stars above.

The whole situation was ridiculous. Twenty minutes ago you’d never been kissed on the mouth and now you were letting a killer-for-hire grope you like you were a back-alley harlot.

It wouldn’t end well. You’d curse after he left and hate yourself for letting him stay, because his staying would be brief and shallow and cruel, but right now, lying on the edge of a fountain with sunshine on your neck and a low voice in your ear, staying was the only thing you wanted him to do.

What an egregious lapse in judgement.

What a beautiful, electrifying lapse in judgement.

“You’re so—” a slurred pitchiness invaded your vocal chords, coating everything in bitter syrup. Your jaw was starting to numb from unforgiving lips. “—so rude,” you choked out, mind struggling to find footing amid its own dizziness. You felt like an overheating droid, full of bad code and faulty wiring that made your words and your actions discordant because even as you insulted the man, your hands were curling around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Always so rude, so… so mean to me. Makes me want—” you panted, voice breaking off into a whine when a calloused palm slid across the back of your thigh, “...want…”

His accent curled the consonants into a dance. “Want what, Princess?”

Expectant in their heaviness but teasing a smile in their lined corners, Boba’s eyes were the color of charred umber. Squirming in his arms, you nosed your face into the junction of his collarbones. “Want you,” you finally mumbled, admitting it in one long, pathetic exhale.

His promise had sharp teeth.

“You can have me.”

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

[fixyfics]

Okay listen I wrote a mini fic based on the broken elbow vine okay?? I did it. 1k words of millennial indulgence!!

————————————

I don’t care that you broke your elbow

The room is silent.

The five of them, J’onn, Alex, Brainy, Kara and Lena sit quietly around the table, not a word spoken between them as the seconds tick by.

Alex looks furious in the way only Alex does: thin lips, tightly folded arms, carefully narrowed stare.

J’onn looks disappointed, hands folded on the table as he leans forwards, eyebrows up and forehead lined.

Brainy looks confused, glancing around at each of them as if trying to work out the math that makes up the choices that led them here.

Lena looks stoic and cold, face blank and expressionless as she sits ramrod straight, perfectly sleek hair over one shoulder.

And Kara looks… well, grumpy, probably. A bit bruised? Dirty, for sure.

She takes a furtive look down at herself without drawing any attention to the movement. Yeah, her hand resting on the table is gross, her wrists are all scraped and- gosh, the ends of her hair are still wet from the bay.

The only part of her that is clean is the white bandage and sling holding her arm to her chest.

When she darts her eyes back up to the group, Alex’s glare is focused directly on her.

Kara feels the urge to respond to the look start to bubble up, but she pushes it down.

Alex’s eyes narrow further.

Kara twists her lips in effort.

Alex tightens her folded arms.

Kara bites on her tongue until it hurts.

Alex quirks one eyebrow.

Kara opens her mouth to snap but moves herself in doing so, jostling her arm and wincing at the pain.

Because yeah, she can feel this stupid broken bone.

But it’s not her fault! Okay, she didn’t wait for backup, okay, she went too full on, okay, she blew out her powers. But, like, whatever! It happens! It’s happened before and it’ll happen again. Honestly she’s not sure why everyone is so moody about it, they’ve worked with and known her long enough to know that diving in headfirst is kind of her thing. She’s just staying on brand! Cat would be so proud.

Anyway, broken bones suck, they hurt, and sun lamps don’t heal them and she’s just going to have to wait for them to heal by themselves. Jeez.

If anyone is to blame it's the alien, surely. They’re the one who had a shell that apparently couldn’t be penetrated without a severely large amount of her power. They’re the one who was way faster than what she’d expected, seeing as it looked like a ten foot high turtle. They’re the one who didn’t find it funny when Kara yelled ‘turtle power!’ while throwing it into the bay, instead launching itself back out simply to grab Kara and pull her back in with it.

All in all it’s the big ninja turtle’s fault, and she refuses to listen to Alex’s ‘we literally have a ray-gun designed to incapacitate that exact alien species and it would have worked if you hadn’t dunked him in the ocean first’ reasoning.

It’s high pressure being supergirl! You’ve gotta think fast, and fast means… fly, punch, zoom, win. Ta-daa!

And now she’s in trouble, everyone sitting there all angry wangry at her because she made them ‘worry unnecessarily’ and ‘could have gotten hurt in her recklessness’ and ‘cost the DEO over one hundred thousand dollars in repair’. And anyway, that last one she really doesn’t get, because seriously the DEO gets attacked at least every other day and yet somehow whenever she comes back the place has been fully repaired. There’s clearly a lot of funding here, enough to fix endless windows by some mystery midnight staff, so surely there’s enough to fix a few little buildings by the waterfront. C’mon.

So, Alex is furious at her, J’onn is disappointed, Brainy is confused he didn’t see it coming, and Lena-

Wait, why is Lena even here?

She doesn’t work here. Did she just… file into the room when everyone else did? What is happening. How did she get here?

Kara chances a glance at the woman, squinting in curiosity.

It makes no sense, Lena has absolutely no reason to be here.

Sure, Lena isn’t exactly Kara’s biggest fan at the moment, what with the whole Supergirl betrayal, so Kara understands why she might want to sit in on the reprimand Kara is probably about to get, but despite that... How did she get in?

Kara quickly looks to Alex, who catches her eye, and Kara indicates Lena with the tiniest tilt of her head. Alex looks at the woman, looks away, then does a double take. She glances back at Kara and opens her mouth once, twice, before snapping it shut again in confusion.

Kara clears her throat to address the… sleek and stylish elephant in the room.

“Uh-”

“You know what?”

Lena’s voice makes Kara jump. The others all stare sharply at Lena, Alex with mounting confusion over the woman’s random inclusion in this… everyone-is-mad-at-Kara session, the others seeming to only just realise Lena is here in the first place.

Lena looks at them one by one, skipping Kara, obviously, of course.

“I’m about to say it.” Lena continues, shaking her head with a humourless chuckle.

Kara hears everyone hold their breath.

Lena turns to stare directly at her.

Lena inhales, chest almost puffing out as she straightens herself even further, shoulders strong and the lines in her face hard as she looks to be gearing up to deliver some scathing insult that will surely knock Kara so hard she’ll break apart in this very room.

Lena glares icily.

“I don’t care that you broke your elbow.”

Silence, for a beat. Then-

Alex snorts.

Inelegant laughter bursts from her as she cackles, making Lena jolt in alarm next to her.

J’onn drops his head into his hand wearily.

Brainy narrows his eyes as he tries to understand Alex’s reaction to Lena’s words.

And Kara- Kara just… gapes. Let’s out an indignant noise, almost a squawk as she stares at Lena.

Kara throws up her hands.

“How did you get in here?”

[angst-fairygodmother]

Feelings an’ Shit Ep1: Fall (Misfits; Nathan Young x Reader)

A/N: I’m not going to follow the whole continuity of the show, and most things are going to be in between/canon divergent but there’s a handful of episodes I want to do stuff with, including the first, since it only makes sense. Word Count: 2185 Rating: T - canon-typical violence, canon-typical swearing

You watched as the curly-haired kid bounced around, taunting the other one and couldn’t resist a snort of amusement. He turned back to you, flashing you a dramatic wink and waggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes, nodding back to Hat Guy who was still foaming at the mouth for a fight. Curly continued to antagonize, playing it up for the attention, and eventually Hat Guy had enough and went after him. After that, things became a bit of a blur of shouts and the probation worker pulling them apart. You made eye-contact briefly with the girl who’d been on her cell phone and you both rolled your eyes, laughing. 

If only you’d known then that this moment was the last normal one you’d have. 

~

“So what about you?” the curly-haired kid, Nate or whatever it was, asked, turning his paintbrush on you. “What’d you do gorgeous?”

You liked the sound of his lilt. But he needed to learn to shut up if you were ever going to get along with him, and you wanted to, if only because you were all stuck here. 

You shrugged. “I think the official labels were disturbing the peace and intimidation. And maybe something about rioting which seems unfair. It was just a little bar brawl, and it definitely wasn’t my fault. Although I did glass that guy. So maybe it was.” 

You tried to keep your voice nonchalant, painting away at the bench across from the quiet one, without looking up to see how the others reacted. If you were being honest, the crime you got stuck with wasn’t even the worst thing you had done, just the one that got attention. But these people, with their minor infractions and their ‘I shouldn’t be here’ attitudes (or maybe it was just the one guy) didn’t need to know that. 

“What about you Weird Kid,” Curly continued, apparently choosing not to comment on your offense as he had the others. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like a panty sniffer.”

You grimaced, offering him a sympathetic roll of your eyes. “Ignore him, he’s a moron.” you mouthed across the bench. The boy offered you a faint smile in return. 

Curly continued his antics, trying to provoke your new friend who finally snapped, “I tried to burn someone’s house down.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed, as Curly whined uncomfortably, instantly backing off. You didn’t have time to comment on his own excuse for getting picked up, eating pick-n-mix, before the probation worker came back, annoyed with you all for Hat Guy’s paint spill. 

Then a massive hailstone crashed into a car, and you were too scared to worry about much else. Several more fell as you all stared up at the unnatural stormcloud moving overhead, and you all took off running for the relative shelter of the building, panicked and doing your best to shield your faces and heads from the shrapnel. Some instinct made you lag behind, bringing up the rear to make sure that everyone stayed together, no one got left behind. 

You were just coming up on the rest of the group, the probation worker unhelpfully taking the time to lecture them about their language, when there was a flash of light and you felt yourself get thrown backwards. 

You came back to your senses a moment later, sprawled on the concrete, entire body aching like the worst hangover you’d ever had, times ten. Smaller but still massive hail smashed on the ground around you as you and the others slowly sat up or climbed to your feet. 

The probation worker seemed to be having some sort of fit as you all discussed what had just happened and whether everyone was alright. 

“We just almost got killed by freak lightning and hail. Fuck what anybody says, I’m outta here,” you snapped, dusting yourself off with some attempt at dignity. 

“She’s right,” the probation worker groaned, making you turn to gape at him. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

~

The next day passed in a blur: finding Hat Guy dead, the probation worker going berserk and nearly killing you all, super powers? It was all too much. By the time you were all out digging holes under the overpass, you found the activity strangely calming. 

You tried not to think too hard about that fact, since apparently Kelly could hear you. You debated offering a (metaphorical) hand of friendship to Alisha, maybe suggest some self-defense classes to help counter her fucked up powers, but seeing the way she snapped at Curtis you decided against it, for now. Then you were startled out of your thoughts by Nathan draping an arm around your shoulders. 

“So it looks like just the two of us that haven’t figured out our powers yet,” he observed, leaning on you.

You side-stepped out of his grasp, causing him to stumble, nearly ending up in Tony’s grave with him, and hid your smirk behind your hand.

“What’s your point?” you asked, tired and irritated and not wanting to put up with his shit.

“Maybe we should spend some extra time together, figure it out.” He waggled his eyebrows, a behavior you were starting to notice was a habit of his. 

‘This arrogant sod,’ you thought. ‘He’s really got the nerve to be standing there, not doing any work, hitting on me, while we are burying bodies. Who the hell does he think he is?’ 

You were furious, the more you thought about it. 

Suddenly, a wave roiled up from the river, crashing over Nathan, knocking him to the ground in a sopping puddle.

“What the hell?” Alisha shrieked, jumping back from the splash zone.

“Y/N. I think you did that,” Kelly pointed out.

You stared, wide-eyed. “No way.” 

“Ya were gettin’ pissed at Nathan, I heard it. Then he gets dunked on.”

“No. That’s...that would be...not fair.”

“You think having some sort of water control power isn’t fair?” Alisha looked like she was going to start something and you backed away, trying not to cry or vomit from the fear. “It’s a million times better than my shit power.”

“No. You don’t understand…” you felt like your throat was closing up. “It would be...sick. A sick joke. The universe can’t have that kinda humor.” You looked wildly around at them, five pairs of eyes fixed on you, trying to breathe and not think.

“Let’s just finish burying the bodies,” you said shakily, “forget this ever happened, and get out of here, yeah?”

~

The next morning you dragged yourself up out of bed, forcing yourself to dress in some ratty jeans and a tank top, braiding your hair with trembling fingers as you got ready for day three of community service. Even if there wasn’t going to be a probation worker there, even if you just went and then left, you had to make everything look as normal as possible.

“So, if anyone asks,” you heard Nathan say softly as you, Alisha, and Kelly all passed the guys on their way out of the locker room and your way in to change. “It was just a completely normal day.”

“Actually…” you caught their attention, holding them back a moment. “The new probation worker’s in there right now, digging around the office. They’re going to ask us questions, and we need to have our stories straight.”

“What story?” he protested, a little too loudly, earning a glare from Kelly and Curtis. “We saw nothing, we did nothing.”

“They’re not going to buy it. We were the last people to see either of them, and now they’re missing with no sign of where they went.”

“So what do you suggest, if you’re the mastermind with all the answers?”

You glared at him, then licked your lips nervously. “Look, I’m not going to volunteer it outright, but if we have to, I’ll tell them it was me.”

“Wot?!” Kelly asked, staring at you like you had just sprouted a new head.

“It’ll suck but better one of us goes down than all of us. I’m the one it’s most believable from.”

“No! No way!” You were surprised that Alisha was fighting you on it, expecting her to be the first to throw you under a bus in order to get away from it herself.  “You’ll go to prison!”

“Or we all will. I’m just being practical. If we’re lucky, they think we don’t know shit and we all walk away. But if they start asking questions, real questions,” you set your jaw, steeling yourself for the story you were going to spin. “Tony and I got in a fight over the shit he said while we were takin’ shelter from the storm. I got pissed, and I hit him until he stopped moving. Made you help me move the body. Then Hat Guy, what’s his name, was gonna snitch so I killed him too.”

“I don’t like this,” Curtis cut in. Nathan nodded slowly in agreement, eyebrows furrowed and far more serious than you had seen him so far. 

“What happens to you if we do this?” Alisha asked.

“They slap me in cuffs,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, trying and failing to cut the tension. “Drag me down to the station, ask me a bunch more shit. Then I go away for a long time for murder, or they don’t believe me and I’m back on Monday.”

“Even if they don’t believe her,” Simon offered hesitantly. “They’ll be less likely to look at the rest of us. She has no reason to cover for us. We’re practically strangers.”

“Exactly.” You snapped your fingers, pointing at Simon. “See, he gets it.”

“Why would ya take the fall for us?” Kelly asked. 

You considered her question for a while, not really sure of the answer yourself. Then you sighed and shrugged, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jeans.

“I’m real good at screwin’ up, and lucky I’m not already jailed for it. Least now I can use that fact for a good cause.”

~

Nathan watched as the girl walked over to her locker in the back, casual as can be as if she hadn’t just offered to go down for a double murder. He tried not to show on his face how impressed, or turned on, he was. 

He considered staying, trying to catch a glimpse of her and see if her body was as dangerous and sexy as her mind seemed to be. 

“Yer disgusting,” Kelly scoffed, glaring at him until he left behind the other guys.

~

The six of you stood in a line, uncomfortable and awkward as you faced your new probation worker. She introduced herself as Sally, and said she’d been sent to take over your supervision.

“Gary and my colleague, Tony, have both been reported missing,” she continued, staring at each of you in turn, as if a little eye contact could drive her point home. “Their families are really worried about them.”

You rolled your eyes, not believing for a second that either of those two assholes had anyone out there looking for them. You tried, slightly, to hide your boredom. 

“Did any of you see anything unusual? Anything at all?”

Everyone glanced at each other uncomfortably out of the corners of eyes, shifting weight from foot to foot. 

‘They’ve got nothing,’ you found yourself thinking with relief. ‘Everyone keeps their mouth shut and it might actually work.’

Suddenly Nathan raised a finger in the air, looking nervous and uncomfortable, one might even call it scared, and you swore under your breath. Were you really so wrong to trust them, him? Was he about to snitch? Of course an idiot like him couldn’t stick to a cover story. Your mind raced, debating if you should start running and try for a lead on the cops. 

“A few days ago, I go into the toilets, Tony and Gary are in there - they’re butt naked. Tony’s got Gary by his hair - like this. He’s doing him - doggie-style,” you gaped as Nathan carried on. 

“Or...we could go with that,” you muttered watching Nathan’s antics and rubbing your forehead to stave off the growing headache (a headache you suspected was going to be semi-permanent and named Nathan Young). 

“I ask you - in a world of prejudice and intolerance - who are we, who are we to condemn them?”

Sally scoffed, rolling her eyes and storming off to the office. 

“Who wants a smoke?” Kelly asked, nodding her head toward the stairs, and you all followed, headed for the roof. 

~

“What the fuck was that down there?” you shouted at Nathan, gesturing angrily.

“It was me, improvisin, actin. I think I did a pretty good job, don’t ye?” he grinned smugly at you.

“I think you’re an idiot, and almost ruined the whole thing. Now even if I do try to take the fall, at the very least, your goose is cooked too.”

“So don’t try. I think we got away with it.”

“D’you actually believe that?” Curtis asked, staring dumbfounded at Nathan. “Or are you just really dumb?”

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 8

Supposedly everything I post consecutively is one part, but I always reach the 250 block limit everytime so I am forced to cut it off! It's all good though, I just hope you don't mind that.

Anyways, enjoy reading! I'll be working on my requests after I post this and the slasher fic in my works.

Edit: Holy sh*t I thought it wouldn't fit but it did! (And I meant the word count you dirty lil thing—) This will be the longest part in the series yet (since 4.3k words fit perfectly)

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Fem!Human/Reader)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: None :)

Contains: f l u f f (and maybe too much blushing but I have no regrets)

—

You let the student call the police as you tied up four unconscious men using their clothing. You left when you heard the distant sound of sirens and trusted her to explain what had transpired in the alley. You bid her farewell, resuming your walk to your destination. You breathed out your exhaustion, the little energy you got from a short nap earlier got spent punching people again.

"So...that was..."

"Expected." The orc supplied when you trailed off.

"Mm...Yeah."

Expected, both disappointing and frustrating. You did your best not to snap at the kid for it and only hoped she understood and learned.

The sun had already sunk long ago, but there was still a myriad of warm colors. Very subtle, but there. Each passing second transitioning it into a darker shade until little specks of light became visible. The sky...black in a matter of minutes. Street lamps lit your path as shops both closed and opened for the night with people saying hello and goodbye.

"Thank you, by the way. For uh, earlier." You got careless. Too careless than you usually are.

You shivered at the thought of what might've been the outcome.

He only nodded, along with a grunt of affirmation beside you.

"Are you mad?" you whispered. Was he angry at you being a stupid idiot and rushing straight into danger?

"No, just, "—he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers—"worried." His scent was clearly not just of worry. He was also scowling.

-

Tai'chi was very worried about you, he always had ever since you met, which wasn't long but he felt a strong need to protect you, even if you could handle yourself well on your own. Oh, but he was angry, enraged within at those men who harmed the poor student, especially at the one who almost stabbed you at the back. If they were in his stronghold they would've been fed to the wargs.

No, he would've torn them apart himself.

You didn't speak again until you arrived at your place, finally. You're not rich and even if you were you have no desire to live in those luxurious and super expensive condos. You preferred to have something homey, small, as long as it had what you needed for comfort and safety, you were content.

It also saves a lot of money for future expenses and emergencies.

"So, uhm, welcome." You said as you unlocked your door after several tries on putting the key in. Tai'chi ducked considerably under it, his large frame barely making it through.

You took off your shoes, placed them on the side, and kept your socks on. He followed suit, taking off his boots, coming out barefooted.

It wasn't smelly, which was pretty surprising.

You headed to your kitchen and prepare dinner for both of you, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

"I will cook." Tai'chi spoke and you immediately replied, stuttering.

"I-I should be the one cooking for you! It's not right. I'm the host and you're the guest it shouldn't be—"

"Pearl, I will cook." He asserted, his voice deep and confident, you sighed as it made you relent. You'd make a mess if you did anyway, might chop your hand off with a knife or dunk your head in the pot.

"Fine. But next time I'll do something for you instead," you groaned.

-

The orc grunted once before he stepped past you and into your kitchen while you plodded to your room.

Tai'chi paused for a moment to take in the details of your house. It was fairly small. From where he stood, his head was a foot away from touching the ceiling. To his left was an open way to what he assumed was the living room where he could make out half of a brown couch facing away from him. He also noticed a couple of framed photos hanging on a faded orange wall. Tai'chi glanced in the direction where you disappeared, he could hear the faint sound of the shower going on.

Good.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he started preparing dinner for the two of you, making use of what was present in your humble home. You had a similarly humble kitchen with a simple stovetop and double-door cupboards.

A decent-sized (a/n: everything is small to him okay) refrigerator sat in the corner where he found some meat in its freezer, quite a huge portion for such a small person like you, but then again he witnessed firsthand how much you could eat, and eat like an orc you did. Tai'chi reached inside to grab the meat but met resistance. He subconsciously yanked the frozen thing off, his eyes widened when he realized what he did, nearly topping over the whole appliance. Tai'chi sheepishly adjusted the refrigerator back in its place, before he looked for other ingredients while he carefully moved around to avoid any more mishaps.

-

You went inside your bedroom, groggy and disgusting as you pulled off your clothes and threw them in a basket just outside your bathroom. You stepped inside and took a long, hot, well-deserved shower to get that dried sweat and blood off of your body. After you rinsed down, you sunk yourself in your little tub, sighing in content as you tried your best not to fall asleep. You shuddered and trapped yourself in a daze, enjoying the hot water around your naked form, relaxing in the aromatherapy you made for yourself as you hummed a tune, letting your thoughts wander.

The precision of that throw was simply scary. But also cool...mm. Awesome.

I wonder what happened to the Silverstones...

Courting, huh...who would've thought I'd be courted by an orc. I wonder what that entails...

Wait, I'll be courting him too, right?

"..."

You got out when the wrinkling started. Your muscles were still aching but less so than before. You used a towel to dry down before wearing a black oversized shirt, you had about 6 of them in your wardrobe 'cause hey, not one to dress up fancy and flashy. Plus blood gets splattered on your clothes a lot, it would be a waste of time and money. You also slipped inside your favorite pair of dark grey joggers, the one you always wore when you were at home. They were comfy!

You let your hair fall over your shoulders and back since it was still damp. When you got out the scent of cooked food engulfed you, wafting from your right.

Oh, how mouth-watering it was.

You tiptoed to your kitchen to peek at what Tai'chi cooked up. Unfortunate when you couldn't see anything with his broad physique was blocking your line of sight on the table.

"I could smell you, you know."

You almost, almost let out a yelp. You wiped your drool with the hem of your shirt.

"I- uh-"

He chuckled, "You must be starving. I—" Words died in his throat when he turned around to look at you.

He gawked.

You surprised him for the nth time today. There you stood before him, relaxed and freshly cleaned up, a whiff of mint reached his nose, your shampoo perhaps, mixed with your scent. You didn't have your mask on, which gave him a full look at your face, your lips were a little chapped, half-lidded eyes showing your exhaustion.

"Is there something on my face?"

"N-No." He stuttered as he tried to get something out. "Ehem, no. You just look... I'm done with dinner, you— we should eat, and then we can talk." Tai'chi said as he moved to take a chair and sat across you. You let that go, in favor of sating your hunger.

His cheeks were a bit darker in shade than his skin, but that slipped away as the dinner in front of you grabbed your full attention. It looked and smelled like pork curry. Was it pork curry? It's like something straight out of a Ghibli movie.

Bite-sized chunks of meat, diced potatoes, and carrots coated with a rich syrupy brown soup together with a modest –at least to both of you– portion of rice next to it. It was simple, but the way it tempted your senses implied that there was something more than what meets the eye, and your nose.

Or it's your gluttony speaking, probably.

You picked up your spoon and wondered if it's as good as it appears to be. You gulped, audibly.

You brought a small portion into your mouth, nearly falling off of your seat as you resisted the urge to make any sound that would outright embarrass you, but lo, as you took another spoonful, you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a moan. Your eyes widened and immediately covered your face with two hands as you felt it heat up.

You chewed and swallowed before you squeaked out, "I-I-I'm so sorry! It- It's just so yummy and tasty and I— it's amazing, and uh..." You trailed off and groaned, at a loss of words in your embarrassment. You risked to part your fingers and peek at him. He met your gaze and you hid again. His cheeks were in a darker hue than before. Was he flustered like you? Oh no, you shouldn't have done that, now he will think you're being weird!

Tai'chi cleared his throat and you removed your hands but refused to make eye contact with him, your face still hot.

-

"We... We should eat." He said, stiff and trying to seem indifferent. But that sound you made would forever be engraved into his mind, it was both cute, and, well, sensual.

Okay fine, it was somehow arousing, but he has it under control, he will keep his damn urges in check, even if it means jumping out of the window just to make sure he won't scare you away. He's an orc of honor for goodness' sake, he swore an oath, he will keep it.

You ate fast but paused to savor the food, minus any embarrassing noises, thankfully. The curry was rich and a bit spicy, the pork was soft and tender as you chewed at it easily, juicy as it is, along with the potatoes and carrots, both cooked and prepared with obvious care. You almost cried from the combination of flavors you nearly forgot it was just curry you're eating.

But damn, this is the best curry you've eaten your whole life.

It was minutes later when you finished your fourth heaping plate of food. Tai'chi had five. He made a lot which was great, considering how your plates were wiped clean as if they weren't used in the first place.

Damn, you ate like you didn't eat for a week.

With some regained energy, you stood and took the dishes before Tai'chi could even stop you, putting them in the sink and washing them, quick and thorough. Once you were done with that, you went back to your seat, ducked your head, and stared at your lap.

"..."

"I... Thank you for the food. It was really delicious and great and everything! And, uhm, you made the pork curry like a pro and I never tasted anything so fulfilling, —my mother will beat me if she heard that—and it was a simple curry but I, it's just so, so—" you huffed, "mind-blowing!" You were rambling, you knew. You looked up when he didn't say anything.

H-He's grinning...

"Thank you. I pride myself in my skill in the kitchen and I'm happy what I made for you was satisfying." Tai'chi thumped his chest, showing that he was very honoured to hear your words. He's never telling you he almost broke your fridge though.

"It was great!" You exclaimed right after him, throwing your hands up. It was truly great. He grinned even wider at this, that dark shade still present in his cheeks, though you were no better as you could feel the warmth on your own.

"Then I am beyond happy and honored to hear that from you," liga lul, he stated, only saying of the last part in his head.

You smiled at each other.

-

"Is now a good time to discuss my kind's courting rituals?" Taichi asked after a minute of sitting there in silence.

"Y-Yes, please," you replied. "So, how do orcs court someone?"

He straightened up in his seat.

"We show off to the one we're interested in, basically speaking. Ranging from skills in fighting to proving that we could provide for our...mate." He paused, watching you closely.

You nodded for him to continue. Not gonna lie, that last part made your heart skip a beat. Mate, huh.

"We," he coughed, "we also chase or fight off other suitors, be it threatening them or engaging them in battle. And if they attempt to kidnap or hurt the person courted in any way, they will suffer the wrath of an orc."

"So, they'll...die?"

"Yes, or so that's what it usually was back home. Here, in this city, it's a crime to kill someone just for that reason, but it is law among us. No one would bat an eye if someone gets beheaded just because they were foolish enough to insult the person an orc is courting."

"Oh," pretty brutal but okay. "Is there an option where they don't get murdered or..." You asked, waving your hand around. Killing because of an insult is going overboard, in your opinion, but then again, anyone would be furious if their potential partner gets slandered or taken away forcefully.

"When the courted wills it. It is always up to them to decide the fate of those who tried to harm them, and the orc must take their words into action."

"Oh, good. I really don't want you getting in trouble just because someone called me a freak and all," you said. You looked at your hands, calloused and a little rough from experience. Scars were littered over your body and you hid them well from any curious eye with your long sleeves and pants. Though right now, some of the scars on your arms were visible.

You jerked when you felt his large hand grab your arm and moved along to yours, rubbing his thumb on the back of it, his brows furrowed as he looked at you.

"They are wrong to call you that."

"And everyone's a piece of shit to call you a beast, a savage, or a murderer," you followed up in an instant.

His expression softened, and you smiled, ignoring how your heart hammered in your chest as he continued to caress your hand.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse, beating so fast he was scared for your health. But he was happy to know he could make you feel this way, his own heart was thumping loudly in his chest too.

"As I said before, we would show that we could provide for our potential partners. We would bring to them our best kills from hunts, offer gifts crafted by ourselves if we have the skill, if not, we will buy them tokens and things that remind us of them or what pleases them."

"Wait," you interrupted, "when you insisted on cooking dinner, was that a part of courting?"

He gave you a small smile as he scratched his sideburns, sheepish like a little child caught stealing candy.

"Yes." He answered, rather quiet than his usual booming voice.

"Uhm, I must say, it was really amazing. Your cooking, I mean. And thank you, again."

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied. "Building houses or fixing the courted's current one is also a part of it."

"You're not gonna build me house right away, are you?" You joked, but then he didn't reply. "Wait, you're serious? But we're still studying and—"

"I am serious about building a house for, uh, the two of us," he interrupted, "but yes, I understand our current situation won't allow that to happen...yet."

"H-How long does the courting last?" You couldn't help but ask. He's talking about building you a house someday and you don't even know how old he is! No connection to what you're fumbling about but yeah, your mind is messed up. You are curious though...his age.

"It usually lasts for six months, to give time to get to know each other but also not prolong the courting stage so they could proceed to the next, but there are times when it lasts longer than that. You will have absolute control over how fast or slow we proceed in the courtship. That means it's up to you on when to end it and decide whether you'll...take me as your mate, or turn me down."

"Sounds pressuring but okay." You want to, like, combust right now.

He chuckled.

"Pressuring? No, no, please do not be pressured. Your word is law and I will face death by my family's ax if I disobey your final decision."

"Again with the death thingy!" You were appalled at how extreme orcs were.

"Us orcs are very strict and firmly tied to our traditions, but I can say we are changing. It is slow, but change nonetheless."

"I have a question," you raised your free hand out of habit.

Tai'chi nodded.

"I hope this is won't offend but how old are you?"

There, you said it. Oh fuck, you hoped it wasn't offending. Shit it was— asking his age, seriously?

"How old do you think I am?" He questioned, teasing you, a smirk on his lips catching you off guard.

"What? Noooo that's not an answer! I can't guess, you might get angry."

"I won't," he supplied right after. Why would he be? In fact, he is pretty much enjoying himself just watching you fidget with your ears slightly tinted pinkish. By the gods, he wants to touch them.

You sighed.

You stared at him, avoiding eye-contact as you tilted your head to get a good look at his features. He had a long and narrow scar you didn't spot before, in a lighter green color on the left side of his face. It wasn't noticeable if you stare at him up-front. It went down his neck and ended just above his collar bone. You wondered what caused it.

The orc was rough, his double tusks sharp and intimidating, even horrifying to another set of eyes but to you, he was attractive and rugged, his scent alluring and you only found him more fascinating each passing second. The scars he had enticed your curiosity but you weren't gonna ask about it, yet.

You always thought the standards set by society are rather absurd. You looked back at the time when someone asked you what your type was, along with showing you different pictures of men, human men, which were deemed "hot" (with quotation marks, yes) by most people. You didn't answer because; one, you don't know them; two, you couldn't tell what their personality was because you can't scent them; and three, it only annoyed you. People found you even weirder after that. Ironically deeming you senseless for not having an eye for beauty. No taste or missing out, they said.

But one's beauty wasn't found in sight alone.

You hummed to yourself. His hair was rich black, no trace of graying, so maybe he's not so old? 30s? How fast do orcs grow up? Do they even age? What do they look like when they were children?

You were brought back to the present when he gently squeezed your hand.

"Oh— uh, 35?" You blurted out, a bit panicked. As far as you know no one is as....buff as him in your age— but wait he's an orc!

"Oh no wait that's—"

You were cut off by a loud snort followed by a boisterous laugh coming out of Tai'chi, making you more embarrassed than you already are. His guffaw shook your apartment you swear your neighbors are filing a noise complaint tomorrow with how much he was laughing and you raising your voice.

"No," he said, "no actually, I'm still in my 23rd year. Do I really look that old?" He questioned as he chortled.

"23rd?! But you're— you're," you gestured at him. He's just five years older than you (which isn't long period of time you think) but he's— he's fucking huge! What the hell did they eat up North?

"Yes," he laughed again, amused by your reaction. "Believe it or not I am. Orcs begin training at age 6" he shifted the topic, "The adults would let them choose their desired weapon and craft to pursue, but also allowed them to experience all selections, from swords, battle axes, hammers, and many more, along with skills and crafts like hunting, blacksmithing, combat, construction, even basket weaving.

"I went on my first hunt when I was 12 and brought a stag back home. I tamed my first warg at 15, named him Nadul, Orcish for 'night'."

"6 year old me snuck out of the house during nap time to collect twigs in the woods while you were wielding weapons and—"

"That is correct,"

"And you had a pet warg?" You knew what wargs are, you read about them when you were in high school, along with other animals that fascinated you. They looked like large wolves with the stature of an adult grizzly bear and can carry a full-grown orc into battle.

"Have," he corrected, his fluffy buddy was still very much alive and well the last time he went back to visit his home, which was three months ago. He doubted anything could take down Nadul, not even a Frostbear, he was the one who trained him after all.

"I still can't believe you're 23. You look so..."— you were not gonna say old, no— "mature."

"At a different rate from humans, yes."

Of course they do. You got so much to learn about orcs, and him.

"And you? How old are you?"

"19."

"Oh? You look 13 with how little you are,"

You didn't expect him to be playful like this, but you went along.

"Hey! I'm only small compared to you, you giant!" True, you were a tad shorter than most girls your age but it has its perks! You'd save a lot of money from buying clothes just because you grew rather slowly. "And in fact, I'm still growing!"

"So am I." He grinned, smugness painted all over his face.

"Noooo, if you keep growing you won't fit through the doorway!" You whined, pouting at how much of a tease he was being.

He found it adorable, the way your lower lip was upturned as you looked at him. The sudden urge to pat you rose but he didn't act on it.

"Do not worry, us orcs stop growing in our 25th year," or not. "And I will make sure to feed and treat you good so you'll become taller!" he stated confidently. Tai'chi was about to laugh again, but he froze with his jaw open when you turned real red, your ears tinted and your lips quivered, unable to speak out anything.

That last part, made your face feel like fire just kissed it, twice. Panicked and having no idea what to retort, you let your head fall on the table with a thud. You gripped his hand tight and took silent breaths to calm your thumping heart down.

"Y-Yeah... I..I l-look forward to that, Tai'chi." You were able to say that at least.

He gave a soft grunt as he looked at you on the table.

You were very flustered, he scented. His comment-sort-of-declaration was clearly the reason. But oh, he had no regrets. He will make sure you're healthy and well-fed, and it's just one way of showing off with his skills.

That's only the beginning.

You were in for some Orcish surprises.

You sat in comfortable silence again for a while, just taking in each other's scents, soothing and calming your hammering heart. Tai'chi continued to caress your hand, gentle for such a big orc like him. He could snap your neck with two fingers alone, but he remained careful like he was holding a thing so delicate.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse slow down to a normal rate, your scent shifted to that of a relaxed state and something fuzzy. He can't call you his yet, you just met today but you already got him wrapped around your tiny fingers. First, he will court you and show his admiration, prove his worth. And you, yourself, turning it into love the more you spend time together, he knows it will.

And he'll surely be damned to let this chance slip. Not once did he took interest in getting a mate before, his mind too busy and filled with his responsibilities along with studies in other kind's culture, and taking care of his siblings.

But back then and there, something pulled on his heart, the way your eyes stared into his for seconds that felt longer than eternity itself. An exaggeration, but that's what he felt.

He found you.

-

You were about to doze off so you removed your head from the table and tried to blink away your sleepiness, the light hurting you a little. You should get to bed soon, your first class starts at 8 in the morning. You stared at Tai'chi, admiring that blue eyes of his, its hue similar to that of lapis lazuli, you thought.

"I should take my leave now. We need to rest, especially you." Tai'chi said when he saw how tired you appeared, you were barely keeping your eyes open. He stood up from his seat, lightly pulling you up with him. You shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you led him to your door.

"Keep safe," you bid once he was ready to go.

"You as well... I will see you tomorrow."

"Mm, g'night."

Tai'chi breathed through his nose before he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was brief, but it sent a pleasant warmth all over your body. You were too sleepy to even bother being shy now, so you only smiled at him.

"Goodnight, lak'mar lul." He gazed at you, sighing before he stepped out of your apartment.

You stood there for a moment before you checked your door and made sure it was deadlocked. You killed the lights off as you sluggishly trudged to your bed. Darkness enveloped your home, a welcome one. You crawled to the middle and tucked yourself under the dark blue cotton sheets.

You were out like a light once you settled down. Much too many things happened right after another, draining you to an exhaustingly low point. You only prayed you'd feel better in the morning.

Your last thought was about how warm the orc was, and how, for some reason, his scent, his presence, felt like a home you never had, which was saying something since you had encountered a lot of scents in your life, both good and bad. You hugged your pillow tight as you succumbed to a dreamless slumber.

—

I'm putting this off for a bit to give time for requests and other WIPs. But if a random continuation pops out I'll have to write it down and set it aside for editing later.

Thank you for reading!

[multi-fandom-freak0221]

If Your Done With Embarrassing Me On Your Own Won't You Go Ahead and Tell Them

Oh my god y'all have just blown me away. I was not expect so much positive feed back. I was screaming so much I could not Believe how much you guys liked that. And so many people are asking to be tagged in the next part thank you guys so much. Also can I just say moving from Google Docs to Tumblr was a bitch to do and I hated it. But y'all inspired me so much that I decided to just go ahead and type it up on tumblr and move it to Google Docs afterwards.

This part's title is from "Impossible" by Shontelle. The song in this part is "Young Volcanoes" by Fall Out Boy

This is Part 2 of my fic based on @misashabunbun 's Love of Three.

Part 1

Tagging List (I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE I NEED ONE.):

@thestressmademedoit @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @lizziejay @indecisive-mess-named-me @captainmac6 @luveverything12 @kris-pines04 @brokenwordsarehard2

To say Marinette was busy would be an understatement. Between working with Luka and Uncle Jagged producing her album as Neon Titanium and her friends insisting that they help heal her brokenheart she felt like she was caught in a whirl wind. But it was nice she had fun. Luka and Uncle Jagged knew how to turn the hard work of producing music into a fun experience while still being efficient. And her friends they had her laughing harder than she laughed in while and smiling brighter than their resident sunshine child. They did everything they could think off.

She went shopping with Chloe and Kagami. She watched horror movies with Alix, Nathaniel, and Adrien. Marc and Luka let her rant to them which turned into a crying session which then turned into a meditation session. And on top of that her and Peter hung out as well. Whether they just worked in silence together on their respective projects or they were pranking Uncle Tony, kwami did she have fun renaming the protocols on the Iron Man suit. Soon Peter easily fit his way into her group of friends abd he fit in perfectly. Everyone got along with him.

But he wasn't the last to join their ragtag group. Everyone was shocked when Felix Graham De Vanily came to their group offering Marinette condolences on her lost engagement. He was sincere and courteous so of course no one was surprised when Marinette invited him to join in the currently planned game of dodgeball, except maybe Felix himself. But nonetheless he joined in the competition and found himself hanging out with the rest of the group as well. Soon his cold off-standish demeanor was traded for sly smirks and slick humor that nobody caught at first except Marinette and Peter who would laugh openly at his responses.

Soon enough Felix was a part of the group and felt comfortable letting his guard down. It help that they didn't treat him as the Graham De Vanily heir or Adrien's asshole cousin. They treat him like Felix, the boy who while very proper cried watching Big Hero 6. Also the boy who slam dunked on Adrien without breaking a sweat. Yet he still is the master of backhanded compliments and insulting people with a smile and having them thank him. He could truly be himself and he was thankful.

And while he easily was getting along with everyone, anyone with easy could see he had a soft spot for Peter and Marinette in general. It was in the way his face would soften when looking at them. Or the way he would smile when Marinette would get excited over something. Or the way he always paid attention to Peter when he was geeking out. It was the way he softly teased them over their height, Marinette being the shortest of the group and Peter only being taller than Marinette and Alix. And everyone knew Marinette's heart was still healing, so it came no surprise when Felix and Peter started dating. And while everyone was happy for them no one, but Marinette herself missed the looks of longing both boys would send towards her.

Believe it or not Felix was not the most surprising addition to their friend group. No the last addition came soon after Marinette formally did an interview after too much press took notice of Damian Wayne's fiancee being seen for the first time in almost a year, in New York of all places.

She remembered Uncle Tony setting up the interview with someone he trusted. She was glad that this was only an interview as Damian Wayne's (ex) fiancee and not MDC or Neon Titanium. She can only imagine how big a deal it will be when she reveals. But that was future Marinette's problem. Present Marinette had to focus on what to say without giving too much details because no matter how much he deserved it, she didn't want to throw Damian to wolves like that. She settled on saying that she was going through some things and no longer was content in Gotham. She claimed that she decided it was in her best interest to leave, but she didn't want to make a big deal about which is why nothing had been said until now.

The interview went well and everyone accepted her answers. It was released about a month after she left Damian and two weeks since Peter and Felix started dating. She still got news alerts for Gotham so she was waiting with baited breath for her interview to reach the Gotham, but it never seemed to. No announcements from WE or the Wayne family in general. She couldn't say it didn't hurt that no one even realized she was gone yet. But what hurt more was when 2 weeks after her interview she got an alert from Gotham Gazette saying the Damian claimed they set a date for their wedding. She cried that day. How could he not even notice she was gone? Was he so used to lying about her and their relationship that he didn't even give a second thought to what he was saying any more? And while she despaired, she relished in the fact that her friends did not let her be alone. Her face was buried in Peter's neck, she was sat on Felix's lap, Chole was threading her fingers through her hair, her feet laid over Peter legs and settled on Marc's, Adrien sat on the floor in front of Felix a hand rest on her back and everyone gathered around as close as possible trying to physically reassure her. Luka was even humming softly. She appreciated all the love amd support she had and soon she was feeling much better. Eventually it turned into a puppy pile napping session and if she ended up curled up between Peter and Felix? Eh, nobody said anything.

It was these series of events that led to their newest and by far strangest addition to their friend group. Here it was, two days after Damian's announcement and here in front of her stands no other than Jonathan Kent, Damian's best friend.

"Hey, Mari. It's been a while, huh?" She could admit Jon looked nervous. The way he wouldn't meet her eyes and how his hand was rubbing his neck. But him bring nervous did nothing to calm her nerves about why he was even here.

Marinette took a deep breath and drew as much of her inner Ladybug as she could. "Why are you here, Jonathan?"

Jon flinched at how she used his full name. "I'm so sorry, Nette. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I didn't push harder. You were my friend too. I should have checked on you. Damian was such a good liar, I never knew. I should have known but I didn't and that doesn't excuse the fact that I wasn't there for you." Jon took a deep breath and finally met her eyes before speaking again. "But I'm going to do better, Nette. Whatever you need just say the word. Even if it means leaving. When we saw your interview Dad told Uncle Bruce to make sure his family was in order especially his youngest. He didn't give any details and Uncle Bruce got offended. I guess he did end up talking to Damian, but Damian doubled down on his lies and his family is believing him. But I know better because I saw what you said and I know even that wasn't the whole truth. So I want you to know I'm on your side."

Marinette was silent for a minute she study him and his words. The way she was looking at him made Jon feel like his whole soul was being judged, but he didn't dare look away. He needed her to know he meant it and that he was truly sorry for not being for. After a minute that felt like hours Marinette smiled softly at him. "I could always appreciate a hug from a friend." She held her arm open and Jon surged forward and hugged her tightly lifting her off the ground.

Marinette giggled a bit before he set her down. "Thanks, Jon for being here for me. I know Damian is you best friend-"

"He lost that right when he decided to lie to me repeatedly for his own benefit." Jon looked uncharacteristically upset at the fact.

"Well if you're in need of some more good friends, I know a group you should meet. Come on, we're about to have a pool day. I'm sure I have some swim trunks I've designed that you could probably fit. "

After they changed intl their respective swimwear, Mari led Jon to her Uncle Tony's pool where the rest of her friends were already waiting. "Hey guys! I'd like you to meet my friend Jon. He's in need of some good company."

Those who recognized Jon looked up surprised before see his nervous fidgeting and hearing Marinette's last sentence before nodding in understand. It was Peter who spoke up first. "Well any friend of Mari's is welcome with us. Come on we were about to play chicken fight!" And just like that their pool party was in swing. The played a couple pool games and had some snacks before Marinette decided to play some music. Soon a familiar tune was playing over the speakers.

When Rome's in ruins

It was Chole who started singing along first sitting laying on one of the pool chairs. In between Alix and Kagami.

We are the lions

Free of the colosseum.

In fields of poison

We're anitvenom

We're the beginning of the end.

Soon Alix was singing the next part as Chloe finished the first part.

Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds

It's all over now

Before it has begun

We've already won

Luka was quick to pick up the chorus while trying to get everyone to join in with him.

We are wild

We are like young volcanoes

While everyone was distracted with singing Luka had Adrien and Jon sneak with him behind the girls in the pool chair. Each of them grabbed one and threw them in the water. Luka grabbed Kagami, Adrien grabbed Chloe and Jon grabbed Alix.

We are wild

Americana, exotica

Do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby?

As everyone else's singing tapered off into laughing, Marinette picked up the next part solo as she walked to the diving board and climbed up.

Come on, make it easy, say I never mattered

Run it up the flag pole,

She ended her singing with a cannonball into the pool. Peter picked it up from his place in Felix's arms.

We will teach you how to make boys next door out of assholes

He sung his verse looking at Felix the whole time, who scoffed jokingly when Peter winked at him, but gave a him a kiss after he was done singing. Marc and Nathaniel picked up where he left off dueting together.

Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds

And it's all over now

Before it has begun

We've already won

Soon everyone was singing along again to the chorus playing around splashing each other.

We are wild

We are like young volcanoes

We are wild

Americana, exotica

Do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby?

Soon everybody had calmed down slightly singing a little quieter. Marinette her self was floating on her back towards the center of the pool. Smiling at all her support around her.

We are wild

We are like young volcanoes

We are wild

Americana, exotica

Do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby?

As the song ended Jon was the first to speak. "What the fuck is in the water in Paris that makes y'all so talented?"

Peter laughed as he easily agreed, "That's what I said!"

Adrien chuckled at the Americans in their group antics. "To be fair, Felix is from London and Kagami is from Japan."

"Still! That is crazy. And Marinette I never knew you could sing like that!" Jon looked over towards the bluenette, his eyes softening at her.

Marinette giggled. "Neither did the rest of the world until Neon Titanium featured in Luka's last single."

"What?!" Jon exclaimed. "You're Neon Titanium?! I loved that song! Nette you're even more amazing than I thought."

Luka threw his hand up saying "Here, here." Making Marinette blush as all her friends joined in on complimenting her.

About a 3 weeks later, Marinette found herself working on a dress for her debut as Neon Titanium which uncle Tony insisted she do at a gala he's throwing. Which she suspects he's throwing just for her to debut because there was absolutely no gala planned before.

That was what she was doing when Jon, Felix, and Peter found her. It didn't take long for Jon to fit in with group. And with how often he stayed with them in New York instead of going back to Metropolis, no one was surprised when he started dating Peter and Felix. Marinette was happy for them even though it seemed like everyone was in happy relationships but her. But she knew she still had some things to work out before returning to the dating scene.

As they approached Marinette paused her sketching to look at her friends. "What's up guys? You needed something?"

The 3 boys looked at each other before Peter spoke up. "Yeah, actually. We wanted to tell you something." He rubbed the back of his neck before letting out a sigh. "We like you Marinette. A lot. And we would love for you to date us."

Marinette could feel the rejection on her tongue, but before she could say a word Jon cut her off.

"Let us finish first Nette. Please. After we're done you can tell us to never bother you again, but just let us get this out." Jon pleaded at her. Marinette just nodded and let them continue.

"We all like you a lot," Felix started his words very sincere. "But we all know that your still healing. We only told you because we thought it would be fair for you to know."

It almost seemed as they had planned and rehearsed for this because Peter effortlessly picked up after Felix. "We're not trying to guilt you into dating us because at the end of the day it is still you decision. And we know it may be some time before your ready to even consider dating us, but we're willing to wait."

Jon grabbed her hands as he prepared to finish them out. "We just want you to know how amazing we think you are. We'll be beyond lucky if you decide to date us when you're ready to make that choice. And until you are we're still your friends and we'll continue helping you heal and be better how ever you want us to. And if you decide you don't see us that way we'll still be some of your closest friends because having you in our lives is a blessing Nette."

Soon they all seemed to be holding one of her hands as they finished what they had to say. Marinette had silent tears streaming down her face, but the big smile she had eased away their worries. She pulled them into a tight hug for a moment before pulling back.

"You guys are the absolute best friends a girl can have." She smiled at them gratefully. "You're right that I'm not ready yet, but when I am, you guys will be the first people I consider dating. Promise. Now do you guys wanna see the designs I'm considering for my reveal?"

As the boys gathered around Marinette for her to show them her sketchbook she thought to herself with a smile.

I might not be quite okay yet, but with all the great people I have on my side, I know I will be soon.

[ao3theskyisblue]

Take it easy

Summary:

“Are you looking to get infected?” Nancy raises an eyebrow, smiling when TK snorts. “Because I’m pretty sure I can make that happen.”

“I see you’re just going to be a pain in my neck both on shift and off shift, huh?” TK teases, the words said without an ounce of heat, and Nancy shrugs, grinning smugly.

“My lungs are dying, TK. I think I have complaining privileges.”

Written for Day 4 of  @911lonestarangstweek : Sickfic + “You need to rest.” 

Read on AO3

“Tell me I did not just hear from that lovely nurse Melody say what I think she just said.”

Nancy forces back a loud groan, knowing that she would just be coughing up her lungs again. Looking up from her Instagram feed, she spies TK leaning against the entry of her hospital room, looking less than impressed. She parts her lips to reply, but TK holds up a hand.

“That was a rhetorical question. I forbid you to say even a single word.” The words sound like a warning, but Nancy has worked and gotten to know her partner long enough to see how worried he was underneath the whole tough façade. His arms were crossed, trying to mask how he was itching to wring his hands together, and she could see the residual trembling as he fought back the urge to tap his feet against the linoleum flooring.

“I could have my lungs taken out and still have enough air to fight you, Strand.” Nancy croaks, wincing when she hears how bad she sounds through all the mucus and dry throat, but TK doesn’t bat an eye. She follows him with her eyes as he tentatively closes the distance between them to sit by the chair at her bedside, obviously ignoring the warnings the hospital personnel gave about personal space.

“Are you looking to get infected?” Nancy raises an eyebrow, smiling when TK snorts. “Because I’m pretty sure I can make that happen.”

“I see you’re just going to be a pain in my neck both on shift and off shift, huh?” TK teases, the words said without an ounce of heat, and Nancy shrugs, grinning smugly.

“My lungs are dying, TK. I think I have complaining privileges.” She coughs to the side that TK is not currently occupying, the brutal hacking sound making her entire chest feel on fire as she gratefully accepts the spit tray offered to her along with the glass of water.

“Which is exactly why you are not coming back to work. Did you seriously think the doctors would discharge you like this?” TK lifts an eyebrow skeptically, running a gentle hand down her back as she tries to breathe in without coughing all the air back out again. When she feels no more incoming coughs, she straightens to look at him.

“I can flash my badge and get a discharge back home. Then I’ll just slap on a mask and go back to work. I didn’t break my legs, TK, I have pneumonia. I’m perfectly fine.” Nancy gripes, narrowing her eyes at TK’s scoff.

“You need to rest. Need I remind you why you’re in the hospital in the first place?” TK sighs, lifting his hands up before dropping them down on his lap. “You already had a cold before that call, and then you decided to leap off the side of a bridge like Prince Charming in that third Cinderella movie. Into the lake. Which was freezing, by the way.” TK shuddered, as if taken back to that scene, and Nancy held back a laugh because that would not help her coughing get any better.

“Oh, silly me. I should have dipped my toes in the water one-hundred feet up in the air to test the temperature before trying to save that little girl’s life. I’ll make sure to keep that in mind and grow longer legs in my next lifetime to do just that.” Nancy says drily, and she just smiles innocently as TK glares daggers at her.

“And you say I’m the impulsive one.”

“You literally jumped in right after me, so that argument’s invalid.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t catch pneumonia after, did I?”

They stare at each other blankly, before their lips twitch upwards at the same time as laughter fills up the room. Nancy tries to hold her own giggles back, but it was difficult when she had a partner that gave as good as he got, which made her want to strangle him half the time, and the rest of the time hug him and never let go.  

“I still remember the double death glares from the captains,” Nancy manages to get out between their laughter with coughs mixed in between, and TK lifts a hand to cover his face, a wide grin peeking out from between his fingers.

“Little Amelia must have been so confused. I mean, there we were, soaked to the bone holding her in between us while our entire station just glares at us and planning the best way to murder us both.” TK snorts, and Nancy feels a new bout of laughter threatening to come out when she remembers the six pairs of eyes that just stared at them incredulously.

“You’re lucky Carlos wasn’t there. I’m surprised he hasn’t already been lugging around a portable doghouse for you to climb into next time this kind of thing happens.” Nancy snickers, laughing at the face TK makes at that.

“Oh, he chewed me out thoroughly when I got home. In between tucking in blankets and not letting me leave the couch in my homemade burrito, I couldn’t so much as go to the washroom without him glaring at me for even trying to get up.” TK rolls his eyes fondly, and Nancy feels her smile soften at the affection shining through every single one of his words.

“Love looks good on you, Strand.” Nancy nudges him lightly with an elbow, and receives a gentle squeeze on her arm. She knows she’s not going to like the next words that come out of TK’s mouth when his eyes suddenly sparkle mischievously.

“Speaking of love,” Nancy shoots him a glare at that, because she knows exactly where this conversation was going and that was not to describe what it was. “How’s that thing that we were discussing a few days ago going?” TK wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, and Nancy sighs in exasperation.

“It’s not going. Anywhere. We’re friends,” Nancy shrugs, looking down at the hospital linens, slowly picking at them with her hands. It was the truth, they were friends. So what if her insides feels a little weird when they were in a room together, it didn’t mean anything. “And she hasn’t spoken a single word to me since this happened.”

She let out a few quiet coughs, remembering how Marjan had hovered over them – over her at the scene, but then after she got admitted into the hospital, nothing. Not a peep. Not even a text or the occasional meme they send to each other over Instagram.

Maybe she had just been deluding herself the whole time.

Maybe her heart was slowly splitting into tiny pieces.

Asking for the moon was sometimes easier than wishing someone would stay.

TK falls silent next to her, and just when she tries to put on her best smile and change the subject, she feels a hand squeeze hers.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. You and I both know Marjan wouldn’t give someone the radio silence treatment without a reason. And, she has the night off today.” TK trails off, the suggestion lingering in the air and Nancy sighs.

She just wants to forget.

“You’re right, I’m just a little-” Nancy cuts herself off, pursing her lips at the frenzied thoughts circling her mind.

“-Sick and just want to see the person who makes your heart feel all funny for a while?” TK proposes, and Nancy turns to shoot him a playful glare, ignoring the heat slowly seeping into her cheeks.

“Okay smartass, turn down the notch on cocky bastard a little, will you?” Nancy grins as TK laughs, and she feels a brief moment of satisfaction when he doesn’t move away from her swat to his shoulder. “Now, I know for a fact that you brought food with you. Give me my offering.”

With a small tsk and a quiet mutter of “of course, since you asked so nicely,” TK hands her a cloth bag. She slowly takes out a metal container along with a spoon wrapped neatly in paper towels, lifting the lid curiously. Her eyes widen in surprise at what’s inside, smiling at how pretty it looks.

“Tofu?”

“Tofu pudding,” TK adds, smiling. “Carlos has been into Chinese cuisine lately and found this off the internet. You usually eat it cold, but we thought warming it up a little might be better for you. You get your daily dose of protein while actually enjoying the food, it’s a win-win.”

Nancy picks up the spoon and dips it into the soft pudding, admiring how smoothly the spoon slides through. She lifts it up to her mouth, and although a little bland (though she couldn’t really eat any heavily seasoned food for a while anyway), it was delicious.

“If you don’t marry your boyfriend, I’ll do it for you.” Nancy takes another bite of the soothing goodness, smiling around her mouthful when TK blushes.

“High praise, I’ll keep that in mind.” TK chuckles, and Nancy grins before taking another bite, loving how easy it was to swallow.

Then, another thought crosses her mind.

“Wait, how did you get in here, anyway? I thought they were barring visitors.” Nancy narrows her eyes at TK suspiciously, wondering how the nurses hadn’t come in to kick him out yet. TK just smirks, leaning back against the chair and crossing a leg over the other.

“You clearly don’t know me very well if you think that’s going to stop me.”

Nancy hums, though she really couldn’t complain. He brought her food, after all.

“Fair point.”

.

Nights were the worst.

She has been a paramedic for close to seven years, and still, she could never stop being offended by her own body betraying her at the most crucial time of the day when she needed to rest without wanting to tear her lungs out and dunk them in an ice bath.  

Sighing to give into her fate of a sleepless night yet again, she opens her eyes slowly, blinking against the dim lighting of her secluded room. Picking up her phone, she lets her eyes adjust to the change in brightness before a small smile slowly makes its way on her lips at the cute Buttercup video Mateo sent her a little earlier.

“Can’t sleep?”

Nancy jumps, a muffled shout coming out followed with a series of long coughs, making her wince.

Ugh, even the coughs at night were worse.

“Whoa, hey, easy. Sorry.” A warm hand rubbed her back in soothing circles, much like what TK had done earlier, but these hands left a lingering heat that didn’t disappear when they retracted hesitatingly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Marjan repeats quietly, her brown eyes stretched wide as she looks at her worriedly, and Nancy tries to smile, waving her off.

“It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting anyone.” Nancy lets out another cough before clearing her throat, gratefully accepting the water Marjan offers her. She takes a few sips, cringing at how her throat burns with each swallow.

The burn provides a welcome distraction from how Marjan was currently standing beside her hospital bed, wearing a simple green long-sleeved turtleneck and matching hijab, with a soft smile that brightened every single room she walked into.  

She suddenly felt self-conscious about her own appearance, no doubt sporting dark eye-bags from the lack of sleep and looking paler than a ghost from not eating much other than the food TK or Captain Vega brought in for her. Paul had also swung by a few times, along with the other members of the 126 but she didn’t have the heart to tell them and their openly kind expressions that she couldn’t really stomach a lot right now. That, and how ingesting anything, including water, felt like swallowing porcupine quills.

Still, the urge to hide behind her hair was strong.

“How did you even get in here?” Nancy asks instead, frowning when she remembered that visiting hours were long over, and yet, here Marjan was.

She noticed Marjan shifting nervously, and it was definitely something new. She wasn’t sure she’s ever seen Marjan being awkward or nervous, and certainly not around her.

“TK pulled some strings. And I may have had a little…conversation with the nurses.” Marjan winced a little, and Nancy couldn’t help quirking her lips up in a small smile.

“Conversation, huh?” She hums absently, biting back a laugh at Marjan’s nervous glances back at the nurse’s station. “Is that what you called the ripping-into you gave the tattoo artists?” She couldn’t help tease, her smile widening at the spots of colour spreading across Marjan’s cheeks.

“Well it definitely seems like you’re feeling a little better.” Marjan sighs in fond exasperation, the awkwardness dissipating between them, and Nancy follows her figure as she sits down tentatively on the chair beside her.

“Do firefighters just have no concept of ‘I’m infectious?’ Aren’t you also a qualified medic?” Nancy asks playfully, her heart doing a little jump at Marjan’s wide grin.

“In sickness and in health,” Marjan shrugs, as if she hadn’t just quoted wedding vows at her, and Nancy just stares at her blankly. Marjan lifts her gaze, and she fidgets slightly when she feels those eyes staring straight through her.

“I’ve never seen you with your hair down,” Marjan comments quietly, and Nancy starts, lifting a hand self-consciously to run her fingers through it. “It’s usually always in a bun or a ponytail. You look…different.”

Okay, that fills her with mild panic.

“I can always tie it back up? My mother always hated how long I would let my hair grow, so I always have a hair tie ready-”

A hand grasps her wrist gently before she can tug the hair tie off her wrist, and she looks up to see Marjan looking at her warmly.

“It’s a good different.” Nancy lets out a small puff of air at that, slowly lowering her hands back onto the thin covering. She couldn’t help but notice Marjan still not letting go of her wrist. Something conflicting passed by her expression, and Nancy noticed that she kept on parting her lips to say something before holding back.

Leaning back slowly against the ridiculous number of pillows, turning her head to clear her vision of a few loose strands of hair, Nancy waited.

“I’m sorry.”

Okay, that was something she hadn’t been expecting.

She snaps her head up, turning to look at Marjan in surprise.

Why was she apologizing?

“…for what?” Nancy asks cautiously, frowning when Marjan shifts her hand to squeeze her arm. Her other hand is pinching on the edges of her clothes, and Nancy wonders if it’s a nervous tick.

There’s a sharp laugh, though it was lacking all humour that cuts through the quietness of the room, and Nancy wants to smooth out the creases between her eyebrows as she scowls sadly.

“I gave you the silent treatment. I ignored you when– I just, I’m sorry.” Nancy feels her shoulders relaxing, and suddenly, she wants nothing more than to hug the woman looking like the human version of a kicked puppy beside her.

“But you came,” Nancy says softly, waiting until Marjan looks up before continuing. “You still came, and that’s all that matters.” In a sudden burst of courage, she covers the hand that’s on her arm with her own, smiling at the look of surprise that greets her.

Marjan blinks at her, then down at their hands. With a small smile, she squeezes hers.

And Nancy lets her.

“You know,” Marjan starts, her eyes looking a little distant as if she was re-living a memory. “When you just leaped off the side of the bridge without a second thought, the first thing I felt wasn’t fear.”

Nancy feels her heart drop to her stomach at the look of sheer terror resonating in her eyes, but Marjan still doesn’t look up fully.

“Instead, it was a strong pull, screaming at me to jump in after you, a never-ending urge to make sure you were safe,” Marjan says lowly, squeezing their hands tighter. “So, when I couldn’t do that, when Paul had to physically shove me back, that was when the fear hit.”

Nancy suddenly couldn’t feel the burning pain in her throat. She couldn’t feel the constant ache in her chest, or the little prickles of pain every time she breathed.

No, she couldn’t feel anything other than the warmth of Marjan’s hand in hers, and how hard she was squeezing it.

“There was- there was a moment where I wondered if I would ever see either of you again,” Marjan’s breath hitches at the end, and Nancy feels her own heart break at the way her eyes shine brightly.

“I have so much I want to know about you,” Her heart stuttered at the three words, said without an ounce of hesitation. When Marjan looks up at her with shining eyes, she forces back the urge to wipe away the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“I’m here. And I’m safe. A little battered and bruised, but I’ll be just fine.” Nancy whispers, smiling reassuringly, and feels lighter when Marjan smiles back, albeit a little weakly.

Still, it was a genuine smile nonetheless, and there was nothing Nancy enjoyed more in the world than to witness Marjan’s brilliant smile every day.

“Besides, I’ve already been pushing the doctors to release me already.” Nancy shrugs, ignoring the glare immediately sent her way.

“You need to rest,” Marjan shoots back without a beat, and Nancy rolls her eyes.

“First Strand, now you? I’m fine.” Nancy scowls, though the little sniffle she lets out after doesn’t really help her case. Still, she glares up at the female firefighter in front of her, daring her to comment on it.

They’re locked into one of their usual staring contests, where their eyes speak more than any words they could say. Nancy was determined to not be the one who broke this time, but the piercing look of seriousness was starting to make her squirm.

Marjan finally blinked, making her feel a brief sense of victory before it quickly disappeared when she says, “You don’t need to push yourself so hard all the time.”

Nancy scowls.

Pushing herself, huh?

She thinks back to her years in college, to all the people who didn’t believe. To her parents, who had tried to be encouraging, but she could still see the tiny flickers of doubt. After all, a paramedic? Long hours, average pay, and no account for the danger?

She knows there were many other reasons that she tried her best to shove into the deepest recesses of her mind, but she had gotten where she was today by working hard, without once looking back.

Sitting back from a job she’s known and wanted her entire life didn’t feel right, even when she could barely take in a breath without coughing up her lungs or ingest anything other than water.

There’s another squeeze of her hand, and Nancy is shaken out of her thoughts as a pair of eyes watch her carefully.

“We all see you,” Marjan says softly, and Nancy swallows past the pain. “We all love you, Nancy, and we just want you to feel better before you hurt yourself even worse.”

In the dim lighting of the room they were in, surrounded by the smell of sickness and the low humming of the heater, Nancy suddenly feels lighter.

She squeezes the hand she hadn’t let go of, a quiet chuckle breaking free.

“You all love me, huh?” She couldn’t help tease, but instead of flushed cheeks and the anticipated stuttering, Marjan just looks at her with resolution in her eyes.

“Without a doubt.”

 Without a doubt.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 03 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

Like a Damn Train

You're walking back to where the guys are with your milkshake in hand, side by side with Monica. The day was calm, and this is a good way to end it. You're at this cute snack bar, all painted in pastel blue and pink colors, and some lights to match. It has two different spaces, but the inside is almost empty since it's a bit hot today, so people rather sit on the outside. But despite having enough empty tables for everyone, you're all leaning against the cars, chatting and laughing. You're a party of ten people, double the number of those who came with you, the others just stopped by.

You do feel a little cast aside since you don't really know the people or situations they're talking about. But Monica is kind enough to stand by your side, being sure to explain what's needed for you to engage in the conversation. Her cousin Jason is here too, as is her boyfriend, Christopher, who has always an arm around her shoulder.

“I'm telling you. That girl is trouble. She's a compulsive lier. I can't believe I dated her for almost a year.” Clark complains about his ex, who decided to use her spare time this summer to try and get back with him. “She called me once, in the middle of the night, crying, saying she crashed her car and was bleeding to death. I almost crashed mine trying to get to her as fast as possible and when I did, guess what? She was completely fine.”

“I always warned you about her,” Monica says, and the others nod.

“I should've listened.” Clark nods to himself. “From now on, I will listen to Monica.”

“Always listen to Monica.” She repeats in a meaningful tone, looking at you and raising an eyebrow.

“What?” You shrug your shoulders, sucking on your milkshake.

“Nothing." She dissimulates.

“It's about that Billy guy, isn't it?” Jason asks, gesturing his soda can at you.

“Yeah, you've been talking to him a lot lately.” David, one of those who stopped by and decided to join the party says. He's been giving you glances since he got here, but you're pretending not to notice. He'll get the hint soon enough and let it go.

“We're friends.” You simply say, leaning against Monica's car. David was at the pool today, you remember because you had to tell him not to dunk his friend. And that means he probably saw when you stopped by Billy's chair to ask him if he saw your whistle, which he had found on the floor near the girl's locker.

“Friends? With Hargrove?” David laughs. “Not possible. The guy only thinks about one thing. I doubt he even has a brain.”

“Well, he gave me a ride home when my car wouldn't start, so... He's not that much of a jerk if he bothered to help.” It's not your intention to defend Billy, but it feels wrong to let David say these things when Billy has been so nice to you. You know you have to keep an eye open just in case, but so far, it's being as he said it would be. Just two people who work together trying to get along.

“And why do you think he did that? I assure you it wasn't out of kindness.”

“She's the new girl in town. Maybe he thought she lived too far and offered help.” Christopher says, shrugging his shoulders. “You can't read minds, David, you don't know what inside people's heads.”

It's clear David isn't very welcome here. People don't seem very comfortable around him, and all his comments get some kind of snap. “Are you kidding me? It's Hargrove we're talking about here. He never talks to a girl unless he wants something. And we all know exactly what that is.”

“Since when you're the expert?”

“Since I know how guys think, Monica. Don't act like you got everyone figured out just because you're coursing Physiology.” He says, and his tone makes Christopher shoot him an angry stare.

“Mind your tone when you speak to my girlfriend, David.” He mutters, and David rolls his eyes. It's cute to see how he defends Monica, and it makes you smile. They're a freaking power couple, looking so good together.

“I'm just saying–”

“I know this sound.” Jason cuts him off, making everyone shut up to listen to... God knows what. “The car. There's only one car in Hawkins that makes this sound.”

“Billy's car.” Mon states and everyone looks at the street at the same time, and seconds after his Camaro speeds through, like a lightning bolt. “There he goes.”

“Was he looking over here?” Candace asks.

“At that speed, everything he sees is a blur.” Her sister Alice mutters.

You're not really paying attention, eyes glued to the now empty road, not sure why.

“I can't stand him. His presence alone makes me sick, the bastard.” David continues, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can do better, (Y/N), trust me.”

“You're envious of him.” Candace states and her sister follows with a laugh.

“Why in the hell would I be envious?”

“Because he's way hotter than you are.” The words come out of your mouth before you can think. “Basic psychology, isn't that right, Mon?” You elbow her, who giggles and nods.

“Couldn't agree more.” As she speaks, you hear the car again, as if it's coming back. The same noise they said belongs to Billy's car. But since you're not the expert here, it could belong to any other car, so you don't give much thought about it.

“No shit.” Jason mumbles.

“What a way to ruin the night,” David complains, rolling his eyes. His dirty, greasy hair sticks to his forehead, and he pushes it back.

“Unbelievable,” Monica says, looking at something behind you.

No, no. It can't be him... Right? You don't move, looking at your milkshake, completely ignoring how everyone seems to be staring at you.

“Hargrove.” David hisses, in a low voice.

You turn your head to see if this is really happening, and the moment you spot him, you look away. He was in a hurry to be somewhere, what is he doing here?

“Go talk to him,” Monica tells you.

“What makes you think he came here to talk to me?” You're quick to snap back, sucking what's left of your milkshake and putting the empty plastic cup on the hood of her car.

“Because he's coming this way and you're the only one here who speaks to him.” She speaks fast, wide eyes.

“Fine.” You raise your hands in surrender when she starts pushing you away from her car. “I'll go and say hi.” You give two steps backwards, shrugging your shoulders, and making sure everyone notices how casual it is. Then you turn on your heels, walking towards him, but slower, just in case he'll walk right past you. But he doesn't, he stops when you do, not quite keeping the distance he should. “Hi,” you mumble, suddenly very much aware of the eyes on your back.

“Hi.” Billy flashes his bright smile, the one that makes you think he's happy to see you. As if he hasn't seen you in a very long time. “Hanging out with your party, huh?”

“Yeah.” You gesture at where they're standing, trying to get a grip of yourself. C'mon, to hell with what they say. Or think. “I needed a night out. What about you?” You take a look at him, trying to be quick about it. He's wearing a black jacket and a dark red shirt underneath, which is unbuttoned. “Judging by the clothes and how fast you were going, you must be heading to a date. Or a party.”

“Second one.” He looks at something behind you. “Decided to stop and get some fries. Join me inside?”

“Mmm...” You're not sure if you should leave Mon and the others, so you take a look at them. And you see David's face, shamelessly staring as if it was his business. “Oh, we were just talking about you.” You raise your voice a little, and you both make the way to the small group of people. Monica has a funny look on her face. “Right, David?”

“Only bad things, I hope,” Billy says, eyes quickly scanning through the party. He knows he's not welcome, but he doesn't seem to care. Why would he? He just walked in like he owned the place. “I have a reputation I'd like to keep.”

The expression on David's face is priceless, and some people cover their mouths, hiding a laugh.

“Let's get those fries,” you say, pulling Billy by his jacket. “But only if you're paying.”

“Obviously.” He gives one last look, straight at David, before following you inside. Only half the tables are occupied, so you pick one on the back, next to the window. “I'll make the order.” He says as you take a sit. Through the corner of your eye, you see the crew moving more to their left, just where they can have a better view of your table. Looking at them, you wave, smiling. Monica won't stop talking about it tomorrow.

“So. What kind of wild party are you going to?” You ask when he comes back, seating across from you.

“Tommy's. Wanna come?”

“No. It's not my kind of party.” Monica told you about Tommy, that in some ways he's far worse than Billy. Guess you shouldn't judge this Tommy only by what you hear, but since you have nothing else to compare it too, you'll stick with what you've heard.

“It figured.” He shrugs his shoulders, penetrating eyes burning thought your skin.

“Let's eat quickly then. So you can go to your party.” You don't understand why he came all the way back here. Just to eat fries? He was going to a party and stopped for some fries? You'll have to ask Monica about it. Maybe there's a psychological explanation.

“I'm not going anymore.”

Okay. That's even weirder. “Why?”

Billy only smiles, and you're starting to notice it makes you feel funny. You don't like staring for too long, so you have to find something else to focus your attention on... But there's nothing so you just look down at your hands. “You know that David guy is into you, right?”

“What? Of course not.” You take a look through the window, catching some of them staring. Monica is one of them, obviously. “I mean, he was staring, but... I don't know. I'm the new girl after all, and in a small town like Hawkins I get that people are a little curious about the outsider.”

“That wasn't a curious look, believe me.”

“You can't really talk about it, right? You're the heartbreaker of Hawkins.”

Billy leans forward, and when the waitress comes with your fries, he doesn't even seem to notice. You don't get why he's staring for so long, like memorizing a map. “I will be straight forward with you, (Y/N).” He starts, his voice suddenly darker, as if the game was over and whatever he's about to say is a matter of life and death. “I like you.”

That makes you giggle, completely ruining the atmosphere. “Okay. You like a lot of girls, Billy. I thought you said just friends.” You're a little disappointed. Guess you were just a little bit excited about maybe, just maybe, befriending Billy, not sure why though.

“No. I don't have to like them to–”

“Let me stop you right there.” You burst out. “I don't need the details.”

“I never liked any of them. Why do you think I never met any girl more than twice?” What can you say to that? Shrugging your shoulders, you keep your eyes on the fries as you eat. You have no idea where this is going. “But you, you hit me like... bang.”

“Like bang?” Raising an eyebrow, you repeat and giggle again.

“Like a damn train.” He's not joking, he's dead serious. “Since the day you walked into the pool, I couldn't help but stare.”

“Billy, I–”

“I always hated when girls started talking about their lives, their friends, their families, but you... I want to know you. Your favorite color, your favorite hairstyle, your favorite ice cream flavor.” Drumming your fingers on the table, you give a quick glance at your friends, looking for Monica as if you could send her a message through your mind, asking for help. “And it's so freaking bizarre because I never thought it could happen to me. I thought about approaching you as I usually do, try to seduce you. It would be so much easier if that was everything I wanted, but it isn't.”

“Uhm...” Okay, you're completely lost here. More than you were on the first day at the pool. “Pink. I like to let my hair down. And chocolate.” You try to remember the order he spoke, despite feeling like this is the stupidest thing to say right now. But you don't know how to react. Nobody was straight to the point like this, all of them always had some kind of game. Pretending they don't care, acting like they're superior, acting like they're stupid... Everyone who ever tried something with you had a strategy. But this guy, town's bad boy, who leaves a long trail of broken hearts wherever he goes, he's just putting all the cards on the table. And you were caught off guard.

“I noticed the first two.” He gestures at you. You're wearing a pink shirt and your hair is down, flowing down your shoulders.

“You don't know me enough to like me, Billy.” You sigh, not sure what do say next.

“Only time will tell.” Billy smiles again, biting on a frie. “Just give me a chance.”

“What about the 'just friends' agreement? I was totally down for that.” Friendship is easier. So much less complicated... And it would give you a one hundred percent security that Billy wouldn't hurt you. Not that you'd ever allowed him to get close enough to do that... Right? Right. “Friendship always comes before any... Romantic relationship. It's just the natural flow of things.”

“If that's what you think, we'll start off as friends then.”

Damn it. The smile again. What the hell is wrong with you today? Monica is getting to your head with all her 'mission' thing. “Friends,” you repeat because it would be so mean if you just backed off now. He did help you when your car wouldn't start. And he's paying for the fries.

“(Y/N)!” Someone yells and you immediately look through the window. It's Jason. “Let's go, we're leaving!”

Already?

You mean... Great. You need to get home to think. “I have to go,” you say, standing up after grabbing a few more fries.

“I can take you home.” He offers.

“I'm not sure. Wouldn't it be a little mean to them?” Part of you wants to go home, leave Billy and this whole talking behind, get back into reality. Get a grip on yourself and think this through. But there's something else, a tiny piece that lit up when he offered you a ride.

“You already came with them. I don't see why you can't leave with someone else. I will let you ride shotgun.”

“You really think I'll go with you just because I'll ride shotgun? I can call shotgun with them, you know?” You giggle, eyes suddenly locked on his.

“With them, it's just a possibility. With me, it's a fact.” The guy is cocky, no doubt about that. “Would it change your mind if I say please?”

“Begging doesn't suit you, Hargrove.” You snap, smiling. “I'll let them know.”

He winks at you before you turn to leave. You change your mind a couple of times before you reach Monica and the others. But now you're sure. You want to go with Billy. You haven't finished the fries yet, anyway.

“Guys, you can go. Billy will give me a ride home.” You say as some of them get into Candace's car.

“Ok,” Mon smirks, giving you a look that means she'll want all the details later.

“What?” David speaks up, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. “Monica, I thought you said your friend was smart.”

“Are you calling me dumb?” You gasp, unable to believe your ears. Who the hell does he think he is? The guy doesn't even know you.

“If you're really considering letting him–” He gestures at the snack bar, straight at your table. “–take you home, yes, sweety, you're pretty dumb.”

“David shut the hell up.” Monica has a finger on his face.

“Who do you think you are to put of your nose in my business?” You raise your voice, stepping forward. You're not the one to be insulted and keep quiet. “This is my damn life and I do whatever I want. You're not even a friend of mine so back the hell off.”

“I'm trying to put some sense into your empty brain and you're turning it on me?” He looks around as if searching for support. But half the group is by Candace's car, and those who are closer don't seem to back him up.

“The hell is going on?” Billy yells startle you a little and you turn your head to see him coming from the snack bar.

“Isn't it obvious that nobody here wants you around?” David barks at him, making an abrupt gesture towards Billy.

He stops by your side, towering over you.

“David here just called (Y/N) dumb,” Christopher says in a provoking tone. “Right, David? Do you have anything else to say or did the last sentences drained out your intelligence? The tiny little bit you have of it.”

“You called her what?” Billy steps forward, slightly hiding you with his shoulder. He's angry suddenly, raising his voice.

“Drop the gentleman act, Billy. Everyone knows what you want.” David comes forward too, throwing his empty can on the floor. “But if she wants to go from the new girl in town to another of Hargrove's sluts, that's all her choice.”

You're about to speak up when Billy moves, closing the distance between him and David, pulling him by the collar of his shirt and punching his jaw hard. You heart skips a beat and your stomach burns. David falls to the ground, a hand coming to his chin. Everyone gasps, hands covering their mouths. You see when Billy is about to move again, so you grab his arm.

“I told you. If you didn't quit being an asshole someone would put you in your place.” Jason says as he speeds away in his car, giving Billy a thumbs up.

But you barely notice the commotion, trying to understand what just happened.

“Call her that again and I'll make sure to break your nose the next time.” Billy barks, looking down at David, who awkwardly crawls backwards before standing up and walking away.

“C'mon.” You start pulling Billy, noticing how the muscles on his arm are tense, even through the jacket. “Let's go.” You move to stand before him, seeing the anger in his eyes as he watches David stumble to his car. Why is he so pissed? “Bye, guys. See you tomorrow.” You say, pushing Billy's chest, sighing in relief when he finally gives up and starts walking back into the snack bar.

Your heart is beating so fast you can feel it pounding against your chest. Billy gestures for you to walk in front of him as he gives one last glance at David's car as he speeds away. Running a hand through your hair, you notice how people are staring as you sit back on the table.

“That was unnecessary.” You burst out, still feeling hot from all the sudden commotion. You have your eyes set on Billy as he sits across from you, anger still clear on his expression.

Nobody ever did that for you. And you have dated before. Only two guys and for a short period of time, but still... You're surprised he'd go through all that trouble because of you, a girl he barely knows. “But thank you.” He's still so mad, like he's caged inside his rage. He keeps staring through the window as if waiting for David to return. “Billy?” You call him, standing up and moving to seat beside him, touching his shoulder. It seems to drag him out of his thoughts, and he looks at you, the anger vanishing, turning into something else. Something you can't name. “Thank you.”

“David is an asshole.” He simply says.

“He is.” Your eyes fall on your arm, still on his shoulder, so you move it away. “Nobody ever stood up for me like that. It's not that I can't deal with an idiot like him, but... It was nice.”

“Whenever you need, princess.”

The name and the smile make your stomach burn again, and you look down just in case you're blushing. As much you appreciate what he just did, you can't let any kind of feelings build up. “So...” You pull the plate with the fries closer, taking one and biting it. “You gonna be my bodyguard now? Beating up whoever calls me bad names?”

“I will if you want me to.”

You know he's smiling even though you're not looking. Biting your lip, you clear your throat. “I think that's ok. But I doubt David will cross my way again.”

“He better not.”

The rest of the night goes by calmy. When you're done with the fries, he gets you another milkshake even though you tell him you already had one. You stand by his car until the milkshake is over, and that's when you finally head home.

His car is do damn fast. Way too fast. You're looking at the road ahead, wondering how the hell he can drive at such a speed. “Billy, would you slow down a bit?” You ask, happy when he complies.

It's a little past eleven when he stops by your place, and you take a deep breath before opening the door. “Bye. See you tomorrow.” Smiling you step out of the car, walking around it. But you stop when you see he's getting out too.

“What? I'm gonna walk you to the door.” He shrugs his shoulders, and you look down as you both slowly walk to the front door. Once you get there, you awkwardly turn around, looking at him, noticing how the dim light from the porch lights up his face... He's cute. More than cute. He's... Very handsome.

Alright, stop staring now.

“Thanks again for the ride home... And for defending my honor, Billy Hargrove.” You mutter, your voice is strangely low.

“Anytime you need.”

“Yeah...” Clearing your throat, you gesture at the door behind you. “Gotta go.”

“Sure.” Billy looks down at you, and he suddenly moves closer. But before you can push him away, or even process what he's doing, you feel his lips on the apple of your cheek. It's almost unreal how his lips are soft. Billy doesn't come out as soft... He's rough, the bad guy. But this... This is confusing. You're sure you're blushing this time, frozen, as he pulls away. “Good night, (Y/N).”

“Good night,” you mumble, turning the door handle. But it doesn't open, so you try again. “Shit... Oh, it's locked.” You search on your pockets for the key, excited to get in and get the hell away from Billy. This is unfair. He knows the effect he has on girls. You struggle with the key, sighing in relief when the door finally opens.

“Did I just make you nervous?” He asks as you step inside.

“Good night, Billy,” you repeat, giving him a half-smile before closing the door.

Today's events are getting to your head. What Billy did was... Badass. Hot even. You're a girl, how are you supposed to feel after a guy punches someone to defend you? It's only natural, right? Right. Shit, you really need to talk to Monica.

Running a hand through your hair, you turn around, ready to take a shower and get some sleep. But your aunt's image by the stairs scare you, and you hit the door with your back.

She has a smile on her face, bright and wide. “Hello, honey. Who was that guy?”

[kitkat1003]

Tower Tales

6: I’ll be home for Christmas....you can count on me...

AO3 link

@asilcorner

(also recorded myself singing the song in this chapter, listen here!)

Their first Christmas in the tower is on the horizon, and while they try to remain optimistic about it all, it’s hard to be happy when you’re living in a prison.

Yakko, as usual, is shoving down his own sadness with ease.  Wakko watches, with sharp eyes behind the veneer of dull suspicion, as Yakko cheerfully pulls out a Christmas tree from nowhere, has them all put up the ornaments one by one, instead of just throwing stuff on there.  To elongate the process, perhaps, to force them to focus on the action rather than the lack of an escape.

Wakko sees, sometimes, Yakko’s eyes dart to the water tower door.  He hears, at night, Yakko, going to the door and trying to wrench it open.  Some nights Yakko spends hours, sometimes minutes, and sometimes Wakko hears Yakko stop, sit, and cry into his knees.  He’s very quiet, but so is the tower, at night, and they have terribly good hearing for toons.

Yakko’s always smiling in the morning, with breakfast.  Wakko worries.

The first few months after they’d figured out them being locked up wasn’t some prank, they’d thrown anything they could at the door to try and get out.  After they’d ran out of ideas and materials, they’d quit, because it was more depressing to try, hope, be constantly disappointed than just to forget.

Or try to forget.  Wakko guesses that Yakko can’t.

And Dot isn’t exactly thrilled, either.  Wakko thinks she misses the outside more than she lets on.  He vaguely remembers her, on days they felt like wreaking havoc would be boring, taking them on a picnic.  The stock market hadn’t crashed yet, and then it did, so they didn’t have a lot of money.  They did have the ability to steal, but even then they didn’t do it much because it wasn’t fun or right to steal from people who were already going bankrupt.

They’re mischievous, not cruel.  Wakko wonders if the people who locked them in here knew that difference.

“What are we gonna do for Christmas?” he asks one afternoon, during lunch.  “Do you think Santa can get in here with the door locked?”

The question has Dot suck in a sharp breath.  She looks away, upset, and Yakko gives him a look, the one he gives whenever Wakko says something tactless.

Wakko doesn’t have a lot of tact.  He thinks he might’ve eaten it, whatever it is.

“Santa can get in anywhere,” Yakko replies, hands on his hips, confident.  “And we’ve been pretty good, despite the circumstances, so I think we’ll be getting plenty of presents from him.

That’s something that Wakko worries about.  Presents.  What is he even supposed to give his sibs that they can’t just create with toon powers?  Making cards seems lazy, even if he would put all his effort into them.

Yakko, he’s sure, already has an idea.  Because Yakko is smart.  Dot probably has them figured out too.

“I thought you were off Santa’s nice list,” Dot says with a grin.  “You know, for being a hypocrite?”

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me this year,” Yakko shoots back, hand on his chest, before standing up to put his plate in the sink.  Wakko will lick them clean with his tongue, and Dot will put them in the dishwasher, and one of them will put them away when they’re done depending on when it finishes.  They’re efficient, kind of.

“Should we decorate?” he asks, because so far they only have the tree, and the tower looks a little barren.

Dot’s eyes sparkle at the idea, and Wakko knows he is going to regret asking.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the end of the next day, the whole tower is put together, tinsel and twinkling lights that flicker hanging from the walls and ceiling.  Dot puts mistletoe over every doorway they’ve made, and every time they happen to be beneath it, she makes sure they either give her a kiss on the cheek or she gives them one.

Yakko thinks it’s cute, if silly, and Wakko just shrugs it off.

They make a fireplace, with a chimney that they aren’t sure goes all the way through.  Wakko tried climbing it, but halfway up he found himself shot back down, rolling across the floor covered in soot.

He couldn’t even try and argue to not take a bath that day.  Yakko had dunked him in and hadn’t let him out until the black stopped coming off on Yakko’s gloves.

His hopes for Santa visiting are dashed, and he can see Dot deflate too.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko mutter, and Wakko wonders.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot is very, very sure that this Christmas is going to be great.  She knows it is, despite the fact that they don’t even know if Santa can come see them, despite the fact that they won’t be able to go anywhere to see snow, despite how the world around her wants to tell her it won’t be.

She will spite that because she refuses to let anyone take this season from her.  She and Yakko and Wakko start a food fight in the kitchen when making cookies, and cookie batter splatters all over the wall.  Wakko ducks behind the kitchen island, with her, and holds out his hand.

“Truce?” He’s wearing an army hat, comically large on his head, with the straps hanging down past his shoulders.

If she wasn’t astronomically cute herself, Wakko might give her a run for her money.

“Let’s give our brother a wet new coat,” she agrees, and Yakko becomes the color of cookie batter in seconds.

“Betrayal!  By my own siblings no less!  Is nothing sacred?!” Yakko cries, leaning heavily against the stove with the back of his hand placed dramatically against his forehead.  Dot and Wakko giggle, coming around to face him.

“I don’t know, I think this is a good look for you,” Dot gives him a once over and hides a laugh behind her hand.  Wakko reaches out a finger and swipes a bit of the batter off of Yakko, sticking it in his mouth to taste.

“Mmmm,” he grins, and Yakko gets a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You know, you’re right Dot!  I ought to share my new looks with you, don’t you think?” he reaches out and sweeps them into a goopy hug before either of them can escape, and all three of them share the wealth of the batter that was supposed to go in the oven.

Dot takes a bath, then Yakko does, and Wakko licks himself and the kitchen clean.  He’d offered to lick them clean, but they politely declined.

“Slobber just isn’t a good look on me,” she’d told him, and Wakko had shrugged and eaten the demolished mixing bowl.

After that, they actually make cookies, because as tasty as the batter was to Wakko, they might want some warm, chocolatey goodness.

They make milk-free ones, too, even though Yakko says they don’t have to, because they want him to have a good time too.

Besides, the cookies taste fine without milk.  Who needs lactose?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Dot is sitting at her vanity, and she looks in the mirror and is ever aware of the background of cold metal.  The decorations look gorgeous, she put them up, she did everything she could to make the Tower become the season she loves.  

(Well, she technically loves the spring the most, with its gorgeous flowers and sunny days for picnics, but still.  Who doesn’t love winter?  It has Christmas!  And, now, it has Yakko’s birthday!)

But, even with all the decorations and fun, even with the mistletoe and the letters to Santa she can’t send, she feels...

Miserable.

She wants to go outside.  She wants to play in the snow.  She wants to harass street carolers by messing with the lyrics of their songs.  She wants to be out there, with people, in the world, instead of sequestered away.

She sighs, remembering a tune from their previous Christmas.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

Where the love light gleams...

She trails off and sighs again, resting her arms on the vanity, and then her head on her arms.

She doesn’t notice the figure peeking from the third floor, frowning down at her in concern.  Doesn’t notice the lightbulb appear over his head, before he ducks back upstairs.

She just sits there, thinking of the last time she saw a single snowflake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko locks up the third floor, a week and a half before Christmas.

When they ask, he tells them it’s a surprise.  Because it will be.  He finally knows what his gift for them, for Christmas, will be, and he can’t let them ruin it, because he really wants to see the pure surprise on their faces when they witness it.

He spends the days up till Christmas Eve working on it, finishing it Christmas Eve morning after breakfast and before lunch.  He’ll have to double check it before showing it to them, but that’s fine.  It’ll be about ten minutes security and then he can show them the magic he has in store.

Dot has swapped out her typical character modeled dress for a long sleeved one, with white fuzz trim on the hem and where the sleeves end.  Yakko has a pair of deer antlers, and keeps calling himself Rudolph, whoever that is.  Yakko says it’s going to be a hit a few years from now.

Wakko just puts on a Santa hat on top of his baseball cap and calls it a day.  Dot calls him lazy, and he shrugs, cause that’s a fair assessment.

Christmas Eve is as fun as it is weird, because they don’t have anything anywhere to do to celebrate, but they cut out little paper snowflakes and angels to hang up and then watch and see how much eggnog Wakko can chug at once.

The answer is around 6 gallons, give or take, because Yakko capped him off there, worried.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dot snickers, and Wakko tilts his head to the side with a hiccup.

“Isn’t a male chicken a cock?” 

Yakko laughs.

“Goodnight everybody!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They meant to stay up, but they’re kids, so they fall asleep eventually.  Wakko, kicking and squirming in bed, because even asleep he can’t stay still, wakes to the sound of frantic whispers.

“Please, just-just for tonight,” Yakko’s voice is quiet and pleading, and when Wakko blinks away the sleep from his eyes he turns into see Yakko, standing in front of Santa, hand gripping Santa’s coat.

And Wakko doesn’t have the time to process the fact that Santa is here, and real, because Yakko keeps talking.

“Please-just take them out, I’ll stay inside.  We-just for the night, just let them see the sky again, some snow, it’s been months, please,” Wakko can’t see Santa’s face, but he does see the shake of his head.  

Yakko’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Just one ride?  They’ll be good-I-,” Yakko pauses. “Okay, maybe they won’t be, you know them, but I’ll make sure they are, okay?  They-they don’t deserve to be locked in here.  It’s Christmas, so just for tonight-please.”

There’s something so young about Yakko’s voice, then.  Yakko doesn’t sound like a kid, sometimes, and Wakko doesn’t always either, but for him it’s for laughs and for Yakko it’s because he’s tired.

Santa says something, puts a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, and Yakko deflates.  Wakko doesn’t even notice that there are new presents under the tree yet, because he’s too busy trying to be quiet enough to hear.

“Just go,” Yakko’s voice is hard, and quiet, and cold, and sad.  Santa pulls another present from his bag and sets it beneath the tree, and disappears up the chimney.

Wakko watches Yakko tremble in place, for a good two minutes.  He counts the seconds in his head, because it feels like they go so slow.  Yakko finally stops, takes in a deep breath, and sighs.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko repeat, and he pretends to snore as Yakko walks back to bed, and buries his face in the pillow.

It takes a long time for him to get back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko wakes up on Christmas to the smell of peppermint hot cocoa at the crack of dawn-at the very least, it feels like the crack of dawn, because it’s earlier than he’s woken up in a while, but the elation of Christmas!!!! has him up in an instant.

There’s a large stack of presents beneath the tree, their names written in pretty cursive of the same handwriting.  Dot is all cheer, and he watches her skip towards the kitchen.  He shuffles over himself.  Yakko sets two cups of hot cocoa on the table, and swirls the top with a large helping of whipped cream, before sprinkling some peppermint on top.

“Merry Christmas, sibs,” he smiles down at them, and it almost makes Wakko forget about the night before.  “My gift to you is your menu of choice.  The whole day, a la carte menu.  Whatever you guys want, I’ll make.  So, what’s for breakfast?”

Wakko’s eyes are blown wide. Yakko has no idea the can of worms he’s opened with that open ended gift.  Or, maybe he does, because he puts on a chef’s coat and hat, and sets up the stove, and a grill, and the oven.

“Bring it on, little brother.  But, uh, let me make Dot’s first?  Something tells me hers will be a biiiiit quicker to make.” Wakko bites his tongue at that request, and Dot prattles off a normal order, because she’s boring.

By the time Yakko is done with Wakko’s order, he’s out of baloney in his slacks.

“I’ll put some more in there later.” He shrugs it off, and Wakko finishes off plate thirty seven with a grin. 

After that, they open up the presents under the tree.  Yakko gets some notebooks, a set of fancy pens, and a very expensive looking leather belt.  He also gets some books, and a perfect replica of a Shakespearian outfit.

He seems happy, but his smile is strained.  Wakko thinks he knows why.  Yakko is getting better at hiding it, though, because he almost didn’t notice Yakko was sad at all.  There’s still a trace, though.

Wakko wonders if he’ll start forgetting to look for that.

Dot gets the latest model of hair straightener and curler, and a wide breadth of makeup products, as well as a poetry book that she regards with half suspicion and half curiosity.  She gets a notebook and pen, too, one with a feather plume sticking out the end.  She uses it to brush underneath her chin, giggling.

Wakko gets some chew toys, some that he doesn’t see himself devouring just yet, and a necklace with a chew on too.  He puts it on and nibbles on it as he opens up the others.  He gets an engineering book, called “Building Without the Math,” and it sounds right up his alley.  He also gets a tool kit, which he places in his gag bag for safe keeping. 

The other items are mostly random toys they hadn’t known existed because they haven’t been outside.  Wakko uses the propeller of a toy plane as a fan, and then spits in it to see the drool droplets hover.

“Eugh,” Dot growls out, looking away, before she sighs and reaches into her dress pocket.  “This leads to my gift.” She hands both Yakko and Wakko a set of flash cards on a ring.

“Coupons?” Yakko flips through them, and then snickers.

“You two can do things that...,” Dot struggles for the world.  “Make me uncomfortable.  Cause you’re boys.” She rolls her eyes. “But you like to do them ‘cause they make you happy, not because they make me annoyed, so these are your passes for that.  Valid for a year.”

There are ones like “Can lick me” and “Allowed to not bathe for 2 weeks” that Wakko thinks are specifically targeted at him but hey, why not?  Baths are dumb, and he licks to show affection!  He sticks the cards in his cap.

Yakko rips one out, hands it to her.

“Thanks, Dottie,” he stresses her least favorite nickname, and she bares her teeth in a very strained smile, snatching the coupon from his hand.  But Yakko laughs, and soon enough, they all are.

“I’m also going to put away the decorations, no extra charge,” she waves a hand.  

“Sounds good to me,” Wakko hops up, fidgeting with his long sleeves.  “I...have to prepare my gift for you.  Can you guys wait on the second floor?”

Yakko and Dot share a look, and then nod.

Wakko vanishes up to the third floor, heart in his throat.

He hopes this works.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He makes them put blindfolds on, pulling them up the stairs.  Yakko holds Dot’s hand in one and Wakko’s in the other, helping Dot up as Wakko drags him along.

“What’s with the secrecy, Wakko?” He asks, and Wakko bounces in nervous excitement, tail curled around his leg.

“It’s a surprise,” he insists, and sets them up perfectly, on the mark he planned out.  He’d checked, double checked, triple checked.  If this doesn’t work he is going to lose it.

He turns off the lights, and pushes his contraption to the back of the room.

“Wakko, I would like to see sometime today,” Dot calls, and Wakko fidgets.

“Almost done!” The ice is in, okay, now just push the button.

There’s a series of clanks, and then a loud, grinding sound.  Dot and Yakko shiver, and Wakko is glad he used scarves for blindfolds.

There’s a loud FWUMP, and Wakko bounces on his toes.  His feet make indents in the ground.

“Okay, you can look now!”

Dot and Yakko pull down their blindfolds, and Dot gasps.

They’re surrounded by snow.

There’s a model of a crescent moon up by the ceiling, that acts like a lamp, and glow in the dark stars that glimmer pasted up on the ceiling, with constellations they find familiar.  From the machine in the back, snowflakes are shot out, drifting slowly to the ground.

“I, uh, I made snow,” Wakko shrugs, a little self conscious.  “Since we can’t go outside, I thought...,” What is there to say?

Dot takes one step into the snow, like she can’t believe it, and squeals when her feet crunches into it, jumping around.

Yakko is still dumbstruck, until Dot comes around and shoves snow down his pants.  He jumps up comically high with a shriek, ears brushing the ceiling, and when he falls into the snow it makes a perfect imprint of him.

“Oh, that’s it!” he picks up some snow and throws it at her.  Dot throws some back.  Wakko runs into the fray, nailing Dot in the face, and she takes her revenge with deadly precision, before sprinting over to him and tackling him into the ground.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she shouts so loud that Wakko’s ears ring.

“Merry Christmas?” he tries, and she laughs.

“I knew you were my favorite brother!”

“Hey, I’m offended!” Yakko sprints over, but he’s laughing too, and he drops on top of them, wrapping his arms around them and rolling over in the snow, so they’re on top of him.

He nuzzles Wakko’s nose with his own.

“Nice job, little brother.  Think you got us beat with this gift.” Wakko blushes, looking away.

“Wanna make a snowman?” he responds, because you’re welcome seems too formal.  

“Heck yeah!” Dot jumps up and runs over to a large pile of snow.

“Watch your fucking language!” Yakko barks without heat.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Wakko giggles, and Yakko sits up.

“C’mon, let’s not let her have all the fun,” Yakko picks him up and sets him off to the side, and Wakko is off like a shot the moment his feet touch the ground.

He thinks about the night before, of Yakko’s words.

Who needs the guy, anyway?

Beneath the fake moonlight, where the snow still sparkles like Wakko remembers, with Dot giggling up a storm as they make the largest snowman they can, with Yakko looking lighter than he has since they got stuck in here, Wakko can’t help but agree.

Who needs Santa anyway?

He can hear the tune from before, in his head, and hums it as they work, smile widening when Dot and Yakko join in.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams!