#the lack of dashes make it look nicer & i did have both saved so i figured the change would be nice?

[starsandbots]

Ok, I am now "starsandbots" with no hyphens, I might change it to my "the-stars-shine-on" url at some point but I'm going to stick with this for a lil bit at least 😅

[lululawrence]

Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

[mldrgrl]

Would You Lie With Me and Just Forget the World?

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: A little ‘what if?’ AU during Fight the Future, if Scully had gone to Salt Lake City.  Inspired by the wonderful little poem Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol.  (Sweet midnight, Anon, I think this fits nicely with your prompt as well)

“Salt Lake City, transfer effective immediately.”  She hesitates in his doorway for only a moment, and then she turns to leave.  “I have to go.”

His head is spinning and his heart is racing.  He springs up from his desk to chase her down, to stop her from leaving.  He makes it to the hall, but all he can manage is her name.  She stops at the elevator, her back to him.  He sees her ball her hands into determined little fists and the way she takes a deep breath and straightens her spine.  When she turns, the wobble of her chin and the tears in her eyes threaten to break the composure she’s just worked so hard to muster.

There’s an ache in his chest.  He wants to tell her everything in that moment; how much she means to him and how much he needs her.  He’s as afraid that she’ll think he’s only talking about their work as much as he’s afraid she’ll know he isn’t talking about work at all.

“Is this...is this what you want?” he asks.

The elevator doors open up behind her and she turns away from him to step inside.  He moves a few steps closer and then she turns around again and he stops.  She only gives him a glance before bowing her head.  The doors close and he’s alone in his hallway.  He doubles over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.  It feels like he’s been kicked in the gut.

With Scully sent to Utah, Mulder is reassigned to counter-terrorism.  He hates it.  Hates the work, hates the other agents in the unit, and hates his new superior.  They’ve got him chasing down suspicious purchases of fertilizer and harassing confused farmers day in and day out.  Shit detail.  He’d quit, but he doesn’t like the thought of how smugly satisfied They’ll be knowing he had given up.  Easy as it would be to search the directory for her new information, he doesn’t even contact Scully.  Nor does she contact him.  He doesn’t drive by her old apartment and he takes her number out of his speed dial.  He refuses to be broken.

He lasts six weeks.

Six long, torturous, miserable, and painful weeks and then he’s at the airport one Friday afternoon, booking the next flight out to Salt Lake City.  For four and a half hours he gorges himself on tiny bags of peanuts and shreds his cocktail napkins into tiny pieces on the tray table in front of him.  He rents a car and drives the few miles to the field office in the area, solely relying on hope and a hunch that she’ll be there.

His badge gets him in the door without issue, but he can’t go aimlessly wandering the halls.  He stops a woman pushing a cart, assuming she’s a mail clerk that will know every office blindfolded.  Luck is on his side.  When he asks where he can find Agent Scully, she tells him to take the stairs down one flight, third door on the right.  He takes a few deep breaths in the stairwell and wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his pants before he heads down the hall.

He passes a janitor’s closet and a storage room.  The third door is missing a real nameplate.  Someone has scribbled SCULLY onto a piece of lined paper, ripped that in half, and taped it to the empty slot where a nameplate should be.  The door is open, but he knocks anyway, just a few light taps with his knuckle as he enters.

Scully is hunched over a small table in the corner, squished between a bookcase and filing cabinet.  The room is cold, dimly lit, and not a window in sight.  It’s barely bigger than a broom closet.

“You can take the girl out of the basement,” he says.  “But, I guess you can’t really take the basement out of the girl.”

Scully blinks as she looks up and drops her pen on the table.  She looks the same to him, but changed somehow.  Her eyes, he realizes, look grey.

“Mulder,” she says.  “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood.  Thought I’d check out the new digs.”  He looks around.  He bets if he stretches his arms out, he’d be able to touch both sides of the walls.  “Please tell me this is just temporary while they renovate the corner office for you.”

She doesn’t answer, just looks down at the papers on the table and begins collecting them into a neat pile.  Watching her gather her things in this pathetic excuse for an office, he feels like his heart is being squeezed in a vice.  She doesn’t deserve this.

“What’re you working on?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she answers.  “Reviewing autopsy reports.”

“Can I take you to dinner?”

She checks her watch and glances past Mulder to the door.  He turns to see what she’s looking for, but there isn’t anything there.  She’s nervous, he realizes, but he doesn’t know what for.

“Or maybe I should go,” he says.  “I didn’t mean to...catch you off guard.”

“No, it’s okay,” she says, softly.  “It’s been a long week.  Do you mind if...we could order in.”

“Sure.”

He scans her bookshelves as he waits for her to pack up her satchel.  Nothing but textbooks on forensics and pathology, some of them with cracked, ancient binding.  She turns the light off and he follows her down the hall and up the stairs.  She pauses for a moment and waves a file folder in her hand.

“I just have to…” she says.

“Take your time.”

She nods and knocks on the first door to the left.  He hears a mumbled conversation and nonchalantly steps into the view of the open office.  Scully is in the antechamber of another office, passing the file folder to a woman who looks like she just sucked on a lemon.  Her disdain is more than obvious and Mulder wonders what it’s about.  For a fleeting second, the woman’s eyes meet Mulder’s and her expression turns from sour to suspicious.  He turns his head and keeps moving past the door to wait for Scully.  She comes out a few moments later with her eyes forward and doesn’t look at him, doesn’t wait for him as she heads to the exit.  He follows a few paces behind.

“You drove?” she asks.

“Got a free upgrade to a Toyota Corolla,” he answers, waggling his brows at her.  “Riding in style around the Beehive State.  What was the deal with the wicked witch of the west back there?”

“Things are different here.  People are...different.”  She turns her head and a slight breeze ruffles her hair.  He almost lifts his hand to brush it out of her eyes.  “I’m over there.”  She points to the left of the parking lot.  “You can follow me out.  It’s not far.”

“After you.”

He watches her walk away.  The tired slump of her shoulders and bowed head is depressing.  He doesn’t even have to see her face to see how sad and defeated she is.  He’s angry with himself for waiting so long to come to her.  He should’ve been on a plane immediately.  He should have never let her go.

The drive to her apartment is only about ten minutes.  The building is compact and lacks character, bland and beige and ugly.  Next door is an empty lot of dirt and shrubs and a clear view of the highway.  He hopes the interior makes up for the exterior.  His hopes are dashed as soon as he steps foot inside.  It’s even worse.

Her apartment is a studio with ancient appliances and worn carpet. Clearly, it came furnished with pea-green, threadbare chairs and a pull-out couch.  He doesn’t recognize a thing.  What little she does have is still in boxes, pushed up against the walls and stacked to make as much room as possible.  They’ve stayed in nicer motels throughout the years.  He hates everything about it, but especially that this is what she’s been calling home for the last six weeks.

“It’s temporary,” she says, watching him look around.  

“You don’t deserve this,” he replies.  

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

“It’s over, Mulder.  You need to accept that and move on.”

“Move on?  Are you serious?”

“What do you want from me, Mulder?  The files are destroyed.  The OPR was quite clear that there’s no hope of ever reinstating the department.  I’ve been exiled to what’s arguably the least friendly, most backwards and misogynistic field office in the country, which I’m sure was intended to break my resolve somehow.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“If I quit now, they win.  I don’t see you walking away.”

The defiant tilt of her chin ends the debate.  He nods in agreement and shoves his hands into his pockets in frustration.  She’s right, as usual, and he hates that she’s right about this.  But, he didn’t come here to argue.  He takes his hands out of his pockets and swings them awkwardly for a moment.  He wants to touch her, but he doesn’t.

“I need you,” he says.

“You don’t need me,” she whispers as she sinks down and perches on the edge of one of the chairs.  “You never have.  I just held you back.”  For a few moments, she holds her face in one hand and rubs her temples.  When she looks up, her eyes are heavy and tired.  She blinks and then her eyes well up and she looks down at her lap, picking at the skin along her thumbnail.  

“You’re wrong, Scully.  You are so wrong.”

“Why did they assign me to you, Mulder?  To rein you in.  To shut you down.”

“And you saved me.  Your goddamn strict science and rationalism have saved me a thousand times over.  You kept me honest.  You made me a whole person.  And I’m not...”  He pauses and swallows hard against the tightening in his throat.  He’d built up his courage and come out here to tell her all the things he’d held back, but fear has a merciless stranglehold on him and steals his voice.

She looks up at him with her brows furrowed and he kneels down in front of her.  He puts his hands on her knees, palms up, and she automatically slips her hands into his as if they’ve done this a thousand times.  He bows his head over their hands for a few moments and then looks up and gazes openly into her eyes.

“I’m not just talking about the work,” he says.  “When I say I need you, I mean you are the other half of me.  You’re right, they’ve taken everything from us and I’ve spent these last weeks being furious and disgruntled and railing at the injustice of...we were so close, Scully.  We were on the verge.  But...but…”

She squeezes his hands and he bows his head again.

“It’s not the work I want back,” he says. “It’s you.”

She chokes on whatever reply she’s about to give and then lowers her head so her forehead rests against his.  He pulls his hands free of hers and wraps his arms around her, nearly pulling her from the chair and into him.  She hides her face against his shoulder and both hands slide over the back of his head and through his hair.

“What do we do?” she asks.  “I know you, Mulder, you’ll never give up.”

“I’m not giving up.  The only thing I know for sure is that I’m not leaving here without you.  Everything else...I don’t know.”

Her fingers tighten, pulling gently at his hair.  He leans his head against hers and they stay that way until finally she picks her head up and stares at him.  He brushes his thumbs along the crescents beneath her eyes, damp with tears.  Her lips part even before he leans in as though she anticipates his kiss.  He whispers her name as their mouths meet and her whimpered reply makes the six weeks away from her worth the lost time.

When they pull back, maybe minutes or hours later, there’s a mixture of shock and awe in Scully’s expression and Mulder can’t help the lopsided and goofy grin that pulls at his cheeks.  He can feel every muscle in his face lift in happiness and then Scully smiles as well.  She’s the first to look away, glancing to the side at the pull-out couch and then biting her lip when she returns to his gaze.

Like most things, they don’t discuss the next step.  Mulder gets up and takes Scully’s hands to help her from the chair.  They empty the couch of cushions, stacking them in a little space next to the arm that she’s designated as the holding area, and then they unfold the bed together.  They remove blazers and shoes and belts, but come to an unspoken agreement that that’s enough for now.  Cuffs and collars are loosened for comfort and then they lay down facing each other, nose to nose, Mulder’s arms around her and Scully’s arms folded between them with her hands on his chest.

They take turns pressing soft kisses to one another’s face; her cheek, his brow, the side of her nose, his chin, the back of her jaw, the corner of his mouth.  Things escalate slowly and gradually.  The lazy circles Mulder makes against Scully’s upper back move lower until his hand rests lightly at the hint of a curve below her hip.  Their legs shift and twine.  Scully moves one hand to Mulder’s side, fingers tugging unconsciously at his shirt.

The bed is surprisingly comfortable, not that Mulder would notice if it wasn’t.  It does squeak though with nearly every move they make and they can’t help laughing at the absurdity every so often.  He can’t believe the anger and heartache he’s been holding for the last six weeks has evaporated so quickly into joy.  He can’t believe he’s here and that they’re doing this.

And then things simmer and slow and then they’re back to where they started, nose to nose, albeit a little more entwined.  He could be afraid she’s changed her mind or that this isn’t what she wants, but he isn’t, not with the way her fingers play at his nape or the way she moves to trace his lips every so often with the pad of her thumb.  No skin has even been uncovered and yet he feels more exposed and naked than he ever has been, and he’s not afraid of that either.

“What do we do now?” she whispers.

“Got any good Chinese takeout around these parts?”

She smiles and brushes his nose with his.  He shifts and sighs and they both tighten their hold on each other, just a little.

“I don’t know,” he says.  “You should...be a doctor.  Go be a doctor while you still can.”

“Maybe one day I will be.  But, you haven’t found the truth yet and I have my own questions that need answers.  I have...my own injustices that need to be resolved.”

“You wanna go rogue?”

“I’ve been out here for the past six weeks thinking that I didn’t want to burn bridges.  I thought maybe if I kept my head down, stayed below radar, I’d earn the chance to come back.”

He nods.  “How’s that been working out?”

“Not very well.”

“I’m at the end of my rope, Scully.  Tell me you feel the same.”

She slides down and curls herself up against his chest.  He makes a shelter out of his arms and curves himself around her in return.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says.  “Just maybe not right now.”

“Thank you for coming after me.”

“I’ll always come after you.”

“I know.”

They fall asleep twined like a yin and yang; two halves, one whole.  He’s needed respite from his crusade for so long and tonight he has it.  Tomorrow, they’ll form a plan, but for now, they’ll lie together and just forget the world.

The End

[theflashdriver]

Just Five Minutes (A Silvaze Oneshot)

Heavy was the head that wears the crown, both due to the burden carried by its owner and the lack of sleep that accompanied it. Blaze the cat was known for being a workaholic, friends and colleges alike has claimed such and made efforts to curtail her tendencies. To some extent her overworking was indeed self-imposed, it was in her nature to take on burdens and the work of others, but it wasn’t solely her own fault. As the singular monarch of the Sol kingdom, she worked long hours with little hope of respite.

One o’clock was nearing, it was only fourteen minutes away, yet Blaze had already sat through two meetings totalling almost four hours between them. The day had started at half past seven with some additional reading and preparation, she was supposed to have had a pair of hour and a half long meetings yet both had seen fit to overextend by around fifteen minutes. It wasn’t that these meetings were unimportant per say, the first had been regarding a foreseen bumper crop while the second had concerned utilising more modern defences to protect the Sol emeralds, but both of them going into overtime was taking its toll.

The twenty-one-year-old princess was supposed to have a half hour break between each meeting, supposed to being the operative words. A half hour break cut in half once more, it’d be comical if it wasn’t such a common occurrence. Even if there was no break whatsoever between these discussions, she was supposed to retain a prim and proper attitude whilst her visitors could yawn and slouch without risk of it being taken as an afront. Even doffing her usual guardian’s outfit, her robes and tights, risked being viewed as some sort of afront. As she walked the palace halls, now free from that stuffy meeting room, she knew that she was stewing on this much too intently. If she kept this up, she wouldn’t enjoy this brief hiatus and her patience would wear thin when the next meeting undoubtedly exceeded its allotment.

Groggily, she shouldered her way through a set of old double doors and into the library. The scent of old paper and stagnant air hit her, but it signalled a sort of sanctuary. She moved quickly across the emerald carpeted floor, breezing along the great wall formed by the historic fiction section. The massive room was like a labyrinth lined from floor to ceiling with books, but she knew her path through it better than anyone else. It didn’t take long for her to notice that a few tomes had been lifted, a pair on specific pirates and three more containing hyperbolised accounts of the island’s early history. If she hadn’t known he was here, then that would be a clear indication of his presence.

She coasted along the next wall, passing by historic poetry, before crossing by a section filled with pure historic nonfiction. The old wooden shelves that framed her surroundings were surely soon due their monthly dusting, a job that her partner had taken on with gusto in an effort to make this space nicer for the pair of them. As she snuck past yet another library shelf, she swore she heard him snort. With no more than a parse at the row upon row of encyclopaedias, she rounded the final corner and her eyes fell upon him.

Lounging on their shared couch at the heart of the library was Silver the hedgehog, three days into his return from the other world’s future. Both of them had dramatic burdens on their shoulders, she had a world to run while he was tasked with saving his, but to say that he was enjoying his rest would be an understatement. Books were piled on the coffee table before the psychic, claiming residence beside a filled fruit bowl, and he was currently nose deep in a newer retelling of Jet the Second of Babylon’s exploits. He’d taken on clothes too, adding to snug display. She’d stolen the maroon hoodie he was wearing on a number of occasions and his ability to wear baggy grey tracksuit bottoms as he pleased was making her quite envious.

Sneaking behind him, she placed her chin atop his head and draped her arms across his chest. Though she felt him shift, he quickly seemed to relax as he realised just who was holding him. Her eyes dared to close as she took comfort. He’d arrived in as messy a state as usual, smelling of old sweat and thoroughly filthy. Three days deep into bathing though, he smelt of pines and was unbelievably fluffy.

“You look too comfortable, mind if I join you?” She heard the tone of a princess in her voice and winced, “Sorry I’m late.”

“You sound tired,” She felt his hand reach up and his thumb caressed her cheek, “Did everything go okay?”

“We just ran over time, it was as mundane as ever,” She sighed, pulling herself away and rounding the couch. She shrugged off her purple robe, revealing the white tank top beneath, but knew she wouldn’t be free for long. In an attempt to make up for lost time, she immediately lay across the couch and set her head in his lap.

His book was quickly put aside, and their eyes met for the first time today. Age had certainly treated the hedgehog kindly, granting him a height that she couldn’t match even in heels. His shoulders had broadened, and his voice had deepened but that innocent spark still lingered in his piecing yellow eyes, reminding her of what an innocent he was. Casually, she sank a hand into the small plume of chest fur that had escaped him clothes and watched his smile grow warmer.

What they were to each other now had gone unspoken for months, if not years. The nature of their relationship had only ever been confronted through actions like this for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which were their duties. Still, that made things fun, it meant she could perform actions like this and watch as he struggled to react. Blush had claimed his cheeks and he’d quickly broken from their stare-off. She had won, as was so often the case.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, his gaze having undoubtedly fallen on the fruit bowl.

“Famished,” She replied, yawning up at him.

With a whir of psychic energy, Blaze watched a bunch of grapes drift into view before arriving in his hand. He gently lowered his hand and, without so much as blinking, she bit one from the vine. He’d probably filled the bowl himself before coming, the hedgehog had a serious sweet tooth, but she’d started to wean him off of chocolate and towards fruit as of late. His sugar intake was still ludicrous, but he was on the path to improving at least.

“I’m sorry it’s not a proper lunch, Marine needed more help that I’d thought,” He claimed a grape for himself. They’d intended to meet during her first break but a call from the raccoon had dashed that plan, “Apparently her ship had sank an hour before she called me in, but she didn’t want to admit that.”

“Hush,” She commanded, claiming some more fruit, “If you’re that worried about it then you can make me something in time for the next break. A little sugar boost will more than get me through,” The feline elaborated, “Did you manage to fish it out the ocean?”

“I did, and it’s mostly patched up, but I think it’ll take her another day or so to get it ready. She had a bit of a pre-emptive launch,” He explained.

For a while they simply lived in silence, quiet and calm. Moments like these were still rather new to them, intimate in a way they hadn’t really experienced. The fact that they could just exist like this for a while, sharing food and unwinding, was wonderful. He hadn’t known comfort in this lifetime, just as he hadn’t the prior, but she was here now to make certain that he did. They were together and they were safe; in moments like this, she could thing of nothing else.

Blaze found herself snuggling deeper into his lap, relaxing her shoulders and clasping her hands. Soon the sound of her purring came to fill the air, overwhelming the silence. This was the closest to the traditional view of a princess that her life got. It was all work, none of what the storybooks had told her. She worked constantly and fought to defend her world, she was born into a position of equal proportions servitude and luxury. At least Silver could open her eyes to the latter, even whilst the former hung over them.

She swallowed another mouthful, realising that a thought wriggled its way to the forefront of her mind, “What time is it?” She was ruining what little time they had but she had to know.

Silver glanced over his shoulder toward the library’s ancient grandfather clock. It had been introduced when the castle was first built but, gradually, none of the original remained, “Five minutes to one,” He glumly responded.

“Only five minutes left already,” She mused, “More like three, considering the walk.”

She heard him sigh, “It’s not fair…”

“It’s the path I’m on, there’s no escaping it,” She eased him, biting another grape off the vine, “In a handful of minutes I’ll be back in that room, discussing the construction of a new graveyard and replacing old tombstones.”

“A handful of minutes…” He hummed.

Blaze looked beyond the bushel and found that a quirk had entered his expression. Silver and new ideas were a paring that often mixed strangely. The hedgehog wasn’t unintelligent but his still relative inexperience with social situations and the nature of the modern world had led to some rather embarrassing situations. Innocently embarrassing of course, but certainly still worth avoiding.

Pushing the grapes aside she looked him in the eye, “What are you thinking, Silver?”

“What if that handful of minutes didn’t have to be just a handful?” He thought aloud, allowing his hand to mingle with his chest fur and quickly finding hers, “What if that handful of minutes could be as long as you wanted it to be?”

She flipped her right hand, interlocking her fingers with his, “It’s important work, I need to get back to it. There’s no way of changing the system to make that go away. You know how important my role is.”

“I know it is but,” He squeezed her hand, “You’ve already missed half of your break today, you deserve that much at least, right?”

“You’re so naïve,” Blaze yawned again, “I’ve missed it, so it’s gone. Rushing through meetings, or avoiding them to steal it back, isn’t an option. Let’s just enjoy the time we have.”

“But what if you could have it…” He hummed again, releasing her hand, “What if I could get you it…” Blaze sat up, turning to face him only to find that he’d looked away. Before she could open her mouth again, he’d jumped to his feet, “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, I can do this.”

“Silver,” As the hedgehog went to stand, Blaze caught his hand. While she had an inkling of what he was going to attempt, she just didn’t know how safe it was, “You don’t have to overdo it, not for me.”

“You’re clearly tired and I want to help you, Blaze,” As he smiled down at her, speaking so honestly, she couldn’t help but feel a butterfly flap in her stomach, “I’ll do whatever it takes, even if it only changes things a little,” She let go of her hand and his smile grew even bigger, “I’ll be right back.”

The hedgehog took off like a shot, vanishing amongst the bookshelves, but Blaze didn’t hear his footfalls for long. There was a flash of cyan light, accompanied by a rumbling like thunder, and then the hedgehog was gone from the library, likely even from the entire castle. The princess glanced to the library’s grandfather clock. Her next meeting was set to start in three minutes. Had he not just run off then she would be preparing, hurrying back in the hopes of brushing up on the itinerary.

Her gaze dropped to the bunch of grapes he’d left but, just as she was about to pluck one, another thundercrack rolled through the library. Blaze looked up only to find that a portal had manifested in front of her, a bright cyan disk that washed the table, couch and her in its psychic glow. Just as quickly as it had manifested, Blaze watched as a hand with a familiar circular symbol reached through and into the library. She rose quickly, grabbing her robe before stepping over the table and toward the gateway. She took one last glance at the clock; she only had two minutes left, but how long did he plan to make those last? Blaze took his hand, closed her eyes and, feeling his tug, stepped into the warbling energy wall.

A change in air pressure immediately greeted her. The feline felt a gentle breeze blow through her fur, yet sunlight was shining warmly upon her. A stumbling step that brought her fully free from the portal lead her to discover the thick grass underfoot, matched by the mixed scent of countless wildflowers. She blinked away the difference as, in an instant, her world had gone from being lit by electrical lights to basking in a sun shining overhead. Around her, and even from far afield, Blaze could hear the hum of insects mixing with all manner of marvellous birdsong.

Her eyes fell upon the hedgehog who’d brought her here. In what had been mere seconds to her had been long enough for him not only to choose this location but his garb entirely. The hedgehog stood before her dressed in a short sleaved, open-buttoned, teal paisley shirt with accents of orange and white throughout the pattern. A set of still comfortable looking black trousers had taken the place of his joggers and he’d donned a set of hiking boots. As nice as his clothes were though, they couldn’t hold her attention like the overexcited grin on his muzzle.

He stepped out the way, revealing both a picnic spread and a far better view of their surroundings. Beyond the woven basket and tartan blanket, Blaze could see tree after tree stocked with ripe peaches, on the verge of dropping, and rolling green hills that spanned out towards the horizon. She soon however found herself becoming lost in the smaller beauties of this band new landscape. Lavender, crocuses, violets, bluebells, buttercups and countless other species of small flower covered the ground but around them were also foxgloves that harboured blundering bumblebees and wild sunflowers on magnificently tall stalks. The sight of a green hummingbird, daring to fly so curiously close out of blissful innocent, pulled her from staring at their surroundings.

There was no one else here, it seemed like no one had ever been here. When the hedgehog has left, she’d known his plan was to travel through time and find them a peaceful spot, but she’d expected to arrive somewhere in the reccent past or the other dimension. This must have taken far more effort than that, it absolutely had to. Not only had he found a place so wonderful but he’d found it on a day that the sky was perfect, errant clouds were drifting through the sky but never lingering too long in front of the sun. The grass wasn’t wet, rainfall must have been days prior, and yet the world around them was so vibrant.

“Silver, where are we?” She asked, her mouth agape.

“Where? We’ve hardly left where you were sitting,” He cheekily answered, wandering back to sit on the far side of the blanket, “We’re now on a simple grass plain on an undiscovered island, you’ll sit on that couch, around about where we are now, in a little under two thousand years.”

The feline walked to the edge of the blanket, “How long did it take you to find this time? How many days did you cycle through?”

“Well, I got us a good while away from the folks first landing on the island and then kept trying this same day every year until it was nice,” He answered casually but his blush betrayed how proud he was of this plan, “I think I went through a couple hundred years before picking this one.”

“And I take it this safe?” She lowered herself to sit, still eying him intently, “There’s no chance of a time paradox?”

“As long as we don’t do anything to disrupt the land, nothing should change. The timeline seems to do what’s easiest, it can stomach a small change like this,” He promised, opening the hamper with a wave of his hand, “Picking the spot was the last thing I did, gathering and cooking everything took way longer.”

Silver began to waggle his fingers in the air, almost like he was pretending to conduct. Blaze watched as shapes began to dance free from the basket. First came a large, sealed, pitcher, plainly filled with raspberry lemonade and still containing a half dozen frozen ice cubes. Next came a large silver serving dish which, upon landing, removed its top to reveal a spread of far more sandwiches than they could ever hope to eat. From tuna and cucumber to cheese and tomato, all manner of fillings had manifested in the blink of an eye. Soon after followed a troop of cupcakes set atop a two-tier stand, each iced a different colour and decorated from sweets ranging from lemon jelly slices to maraschino cherries to give each cake their own theme.

Silver the hedgehog could make wonderful use of a minute, that much was more than clear, but how long had that minute lasted for him?

“Just how long did you spend on this,” She squinted at him, causing the hedgehog to break eye contact.

“N-Not longer than eight hours?” He gulped.

“Silver!” The feline shouted, genuinely shocked. She’d expected a couple of hours, three at most, but eight?

“I can rest up and everything will be fine, we can stay here for as long as you like,” He promised, “As long as you don’t plan to stay for more than two hundred years, then we might bump into your ancestors.”

“I should have you send us back right now, this is far too much of an effort and I didn’t contribute anything,” She was flustered, again slipping into the voice she used to rule, but she was anything but upset with him.

“You just being here is more than enough on its own,” Silver responded, clearly growing flustered himself, “I-It’s not like I did this all totally on my own, I went to the other dimension and Amy let me use her oven. I didn’t want to go back and use mine in case I encountered Marine or messed something up permanently.”

In a lot of ways, Blaze knew she was exceptionally lucky to have Silver in her life, let alone to have a relationship like this with him. For as mundane as the cooking behind his effort was, and as normal as their prior time in the library had been, the hedgehog was anything but regular and so casual in how he showed it. No one else could ever have come remotely close to what she was experiencing right now, no one else had a partner who could stretch a minute into eight hours before whisking them away for as long as they liked. The feline almost felt selfish for keeping him all to herself like this but she knew that, fundamentally, that he did this because he cared. He’d seen how bedraggled she was and wanted to make her happy, to shirk this opportunity would be foolish. That and, well, he’d set this up for her to take advantage of. Blaze could tease him to her heart’s content, and no one was around to catch them in the act.

“We can eat, we can rest, we can explore,” He offered, awkwardly smiling at her again, “We can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, hm,” The feline pawed her way across the blanket and toward the hedgehog, “I think I’d like to retake our prior position.”

With half a yawn and no further warning, she pushed her way to rest her head atop the hedgehog’s lap. She’d always known that he made a good pillow but something about this position, coupled with the warmth of the sun seeping into her fur, was truly blissful. Their cloistered times in the library were wonderful, but there was something entirely heavenly about doing this so publicly yet not having to worry about the prying eyes of others. There was no chance of rumours, no potential for tabloids, just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company. The sight of the blue sky above as they did this too; something about it felt so liberating.

“You said you were famished, right? I managed to get fresh salmon,” As he babbled, she glanced up at him. The hedgehog had used his power to draw one of the triangle-cut sandwiches from the tray, “I guess that’s not much of a feat when you can time travel but-

Before he could undersell himself, the feline reached up and shooed away his glowing aura. The sandwich retrieved, she only spoke two words, “Thank you,” That alone was enough to restoke the fire on his muzzle.

The clink of ice filled her ears as she took the first bite, signalling that he was pouring them drinks through the use of his power. Seared salmon and baby spinach in a delicately creamy sauce, the flavours mingled to perfectly. If every single one of those sandwiches had this level of effort put into them then the long hours he’d mentioned more than made sense. It’d be akin to making four or five separate dishes and then reshaping them to suit sandwiches, atop that even crafting the cupcakes and drink.

As a glass filled to the brim with a faint pink liquid drifted towards Blaze, she looked up to him again, “You really did go too far with all of this. You know I was expecting to arrive in the other dimension or the past, to step into some kind of café or a different library.”

“I may have gotten a little overexcited, Amy did tell me I was going overboard. Even if she then insisted that I go all out…” He admitted as she took a sip. It was frightfully sweet, as one should anticipate a concoction made by the two hedgehogs would be, but surprisingly subtle in its flavouring. The lemon only faintly undercut the primary raspberry taste, “I kind of owe her now. I promised to help her do something similar for her and Sonic…”

“Well, it does seem that you have a knack for this,” She complimented him before taking another sip, “I’m sure she’ll be more than pleased with wherever and whenever you send them.”

“She already has ideas, but I’m scared of granting her free reign in the past,” He cringed, “I need to find a middle ground between an interesting place and somewhere it’d be difficult to change the future,” She watched as a cupcake flew through the air, the hedgehog hadn’t had a sandwich yet but she was too comfortable to scold him, “I was thinking about letting them go on a winter date in the middle of summer… she seemed to think that was a great idea.”

“That does sound rather romantic. Very unique,” Blaze responded, before a likely truth ran through her mind, “Although, she’ll probably want you to surprise him with it. If you do that, she’ll surely be ready for the cold while he won’t be. It’ll be an opportunity to get closer to him, in more ways than one.”

“She wouldn’t let him freeze, right?” He asked, so very innocently.

“No, she certainly wouldn’t,” The pyrokinetic half-joked, “But I think, deep down, he’d enjoy that just as much as her.”

Conversation ebbed and flowed, just as the tide or changes in the clouds. One moment they would be discussing the food but the next they would be simply holding each other and enjoying their serene surroundings, only to later end up laughing about their friends’ potential antics. They were never quiet for too long, but conversation never felt forced or as though it was some sort of requirement, it was allowed to come and go as it pleased. Silver’s pointing out of a cloud shaped like Cream’s head led to a long span of time where they stared to the sky, occasionally pointing out the strange forms they observed. It was all so regular, so fundamentally plain, and it brought her nigh unending peace. Though she yawned throughout their meal, Blaze never found herself falling asleep.

His arms had found their way to hold her, clasping just above her bellybutton. This had been intended to relax her, but the princess couldn’t help but take in how peaceful her partner looked. He’d been so overexcited, but he’d equally worked so hard. It wasn’t surprising to see him so tired. After another long bout of silence, the hedgehog began to shift.

“Well, the food’s done,” He hummed, beginning to return the crockery to the hamper. In truth, they hadn’t managed to entirely finish all the sandwiches but she’d long since expressed her fullness, “We should probably head back, right?”

It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say, but she fundamentally understood it. He was trying to be mature, trying to match the seriousness she so often displayed, but Blaze had been spurred on by their surroundings. If they truly were outside of time, able to return to it at any moment, then what was the rush? Why would she ever waste a day as perfect as this. Just this once, perhaps only this once ever, Blaze the cat, the guardian of the Sol emeralds and princess of the Sol kingdom, decided to be greedy.

“I don’t think two hundred years have passed yet,” The pyrokinetic hummed, sitting up stretching.

“Eh?” He was clearly caught off guard.

“I thought I got to decide when we went back?” She teased, now fully rising to her feet. Blaze turned to him, “If this is my kingdom then I would like to see it.”

The hedgehog stumbled to his feet, beaming, “R-Really? I didn’t look around too much, just in case you wanted to. I just took a bit of a glance around from above, made sure everything was as it should be.”

She brushed past him, taking the hedgehog’s hand and feeling her tail wrap around his waist, “Shall we stroll then? Take in this island, unsullied by others’ footsteps?”

He squeezed her hand, bundling their picnic spread into a neat pile and setting her royal robe atop it, “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

That stroll quickly evolved into a frankly stupid dash through the woods. Hand in hand soon turned to arm in arm as they leapt through the thick bracken of the underbrush. Though the hedgehog apparently had some knowledge of the layout, the feline soon ended up leading and racing to reach spots she knew would be transformed with time. A great peach tree forest presently stood, proud and strong, where the royal gardens would eventually take root. The feline had known that these trees were native to the island, but not that they were nearly so plentiful. In her time, only a few remained on Southern Island, one at the heart of the aforementioned garden and another near the town centre. Both were said to be centuries old but now Blaze knew that was certainly true.

Beyond those trees were a swamp, now the site of southern island’s main shopping district. The countless croaking of frogs proved to her that this part of her kingdom had always been loud, but seeing it in such a natural state almost made Blaze wish it was still in such a state. Still, that feeling was quickly washed away as Silver went to pick up a small amphibian only to tumble over himself. Though he managed to psychically keep himself from falling, the response from all the frogs was to leap from the brackish liquid and scatter in all directions. The cacophony of croaks was only rivalled by the sound of their slippery forms crashing back into the water and against the ferns of the undergrowth. The sight of him, bashfully hanging there as if he’d been ensnared in some unseen trap, was more than enough to make her laugh. In an instant, the hunter had taken the place of his supposed prey. What he’d intended to do with a frog if he’d caught it, let alone why he’d tried to catch one with his hands, Blaze had no idea, but it’d only added to the enjoyable mundanity of the day.

No reason, beyond the virtue of freedom she felt welling in her chest, led Blaze to break from staring at him and, still grinning from ear to ear, take off running. The hedgehog gave pursuit, for once not so oblivious as to think this was more than a mere game. Blaze jumped over roots and weaved through trees, running just out of arm’s reach ahead of the psychic. Her heart pounded as though this was some harsh battle, some life-or-death scenario, but she knew it’d only been stoked by the childish part of infatuation. She couldn’t do this in her time, not without feeling the eyes of her people scrutinising her every movement. Even when she was in the other dimension, the presence of so many people made her feel as though her every movement was being analysed. This was freedom, a form of release from her inhibitions that she’d never experience otherwise. It was as though they were in that destroyed future again, still children who were oblivious to how the world was supposed to be, but free from the pressures that world had forced upon them.

She ran and ran and ran until the trees were no more, until the grass vanished from under her and stone took its place. Blaze found herself at the edge of a bluff, overlooking the beach and the sea just beyond it. The feline knew this rockface well, she and he had enjoyed many picnics atop it. Though it was open and exposed now, it would with time become one of the most secluded and private places on the entire island. Panting, she drew the back of her hand across her brow and threw a glance back to him. Cyan light was glowing from the trees, he was in pursuit but had perhaps lost her.

“Silver! This way!” She called out before quickly turning her attention back to the view.

To Blaze, the value of the sea had been lost to her life spent on an island nation. She’d come to take the waters for granted, it was all she’d known for much too long, her relationship with the ocean had been a rather dull one. But now, seeing a beach devoid of people and waters more pristine than ever before, the beauty of the view took her by force. An untouched driftwood barrier formed a long yet broken line along the shore, protecting and simultaneously buffering a wide collection of rocks and shells of all different sizes and shapes.

She heard him land at her side; the key reason that she could stand heights like this. Across both lives, he’d helped her overcome that fear of falling. That alone was a miracle, she couldn’t believe she’d overlooked his potential for quite so long. What had once been a power she was equal parts captivated by and envious of had quickly become a rather romantic tool, a key part of unspoken his arsenal. Though this was the first occasion he’d taken them out of time for such a casual reason, he’d so often and so casually snuck her gifts with his power and carried her for miles above the ground. With the wave of his hand he could sweep her off her feet, not that he would without checking in first.

“It’s beautiful. This spot reminds me of when I first arrived in this world, everything looked so incredible. Undamaged, untouched,” The hedgehog thought aloud, “Do you want to head down there?”

Her tail had already snuck its way around his side again, but she knew that wasn’t enough of a hint for him. She had control, the almighty time traveling psychic was practically wrapped around her finger. It was probably due to their lonely situation but, now that they were away from the forest, it was as though the pair were more isolated than ever. She couldn’t help but feel just a little more confident than usual.

Yawning, mimicking the kind of movements she’d only ever seen in movies and read of in books, the feline stretched her arm around his far shoulder, “I suppose I might.”

Beet red colouration rushed to colour his cheeks as she stepped closer and allowed her right hand to sink into his chest fur, “I-I’ll take you wherever you want to go…”

She raised her leg and he quickly caught on, using his psychic pull to bring her into a bridal carry. This position had taken on different meanings across their lives. While once the feeling of his arm beneath her knee was a sign that they were retreating, it now signified a journey toward something. Be it the peak of a mountain or deep into a valley or simply further in their relationship, this position was a sign of movement. Gently, casually, she let herself lean into his shoulder.

Plainly trying to ignore his blush, a sheen of cyan overtook the hedgehog’s body as gravity abandoned them. With a single step they were floating above the abyss, but he didn’t stop there. As if walking on any normal road, the hedgehog paced further and further forward. With each step they would descend as far down as they did forward. Despite their relatively slow pace, Blaze lost track of time as she stared up at him.

There was something about moments like this, when that psychic glow coated him and his quills hardened in response. It contrasted so heavily with the childhood view she’d had of him, of an adorable ball of white fluff who was far too serious for his own good. Places like this brought out the best in him, let him be more casual and match his inherently soft aesthetic. He could be harsh and strong when he had to be, but she knew this was his closer to his natural state.

As his feet met the ground his eyes crashed into hers. She opted not to step out of his grasp, “S-So, um, we’re here.”

“I’d noticed,” She hummed, scanning their surroundings. He’d landed them on the inner edge of the driftwood barrier, where shells had gathered for years on this untouched land, “Shall we sit?”

“If you want,” The hedgehog struggled to respond, lowering the pair of them to the ground. Naturally, she maintained her position in his lap and atop him.

So very casually, or at least as casually as she could manage, the pyrokinetic cast a glance to her surroundings. The crashing of waves was somehow clearer than it typically was in her time, perhaps due in part to the lack of individuals intruding upon the ocean’s path. The sand was especially smooth, perhaps a result of the ocean’s efforts going entirely unhindered. She blindly stretched behind her, feeling her way through what few shells were in reach. They were cockles, as was supposed to be the case on the island. She had a meeting regarding their harvesting later today or, rather, in almost two thousand years.

She caught sight of his staring out of the corner of her eye. He was looking out to sea, but the remnants of his blush still lingered on his cheeks. Her only regret in all this was that she hadn’t seen his reaction as he first laid eyes upon this untouched world. The hedgehog had grown such an affinity for nature, a want to both experience and protect. It’d become an additional aspect of his role defending that other world, making sure that nature continued to thrive. From gardening to birdwatching to hiking, he’d fully embraced what he so often had to go weeks without.

He would leave again soon to perform that duty, she had to take advantage of what they had both here and now.

“You know, this has all been quite the flagrant misuse of your powers,” She tutted, shifting her weight to push him backwards as she broke the silence, “Very irresponsible.”

It was hardly the most scathing of her taunts but, perhaps due to the physical act that had coincided with it, her words it clearly snatched the hedgehog’s attention. His eyes flickered up to her, wide with surprise. The term your highness, or any of her royal titles for that matter, didn’t much appeal to the feline, but turning her learned regal traits on the hedgehog was an endless source of fun. She watched as surprise was gradually overcome by what little defiance he could muster; she already knew what he was going to say.

“W-Well,” He stuttered, trapped beneath her, “I thought it was for the best? It’s not like I only use my powers to save the world, I used them to pass you grapes before we left.”

“Ah yes, how long ago was that? More than ten minutes must have past by now,” The feline felt a smirk grow on her face as the hedgehog squirmed, “You’ve made me late.”

“We’ll be back on time, I promise,” He managed to reply, struggling to meet her gaze, “I-I’ll drop you right into the meeting room if you want, we can even arrive early. Your past self will be in the library for ten minutes before it starts, you can spend all that time getting ready for the next meeting.”

“How naïve, making such decisions for a princess,” She sat up straight, shuffling off of him a little.

The hedgehog managed to rise just a little, though his blush hadn’t cleared in the slightest, “Y-You’re happy to be here though, right? You’re happy to have this break?”

“Am I?” Blaze turned away from him and smirked toward the sea, “Whyever would you think that?”

“Y-You’ve been smiling,” He stammered, she could imagine the worry on his face without even glancing his way.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” She lied, still looking out to sea. Far away, she could see where the waves dipped beneath the horizon. They really were alone out here. Playing with him like this in such a public space was truly liberating, “Though I supposed I have enjoyed this, somewhat.”

“I’m glad,” Like a switch had been flipped, he was beaming again, “You looked so tired back in the library. I know I can’t do much to help with your work but, if you ever need something like this again, you only need to say.”

“We can’t do this every time, Silver. There will be occasions when I’ll want to, but I know we shouldn’t,” His smile wavered, she cupped his cheek. He was so genuine, so sweet, so naïve, “Just having you by my side is more than enough,” She allowed that hand to slip to his quills and ruffle them, “Although, that’s not to say I won’t ever take you up on that offer…”

For a long while, surrounded by this serene scene, they simply sat and enjoyed each other’s company. Blaze found herself not sleeping but simply snuggling into the time traveller, burying her head into the crook of his neck before lowering to reclaim the pillow that was his chest. Eventually though, the feline knew that she was as comfortable as was possible, that all her relaxation had reached its climax. Pushing herself from his frame to loom above him once again.

“We should probably head back,” She snorted, as he fumbled to his feet, “Or, I suppose, head forward in this case.”

“If you’re sure you’re ready,” He double checked, only casting his hands skyward as she nodded.

Psychokinesis whirred and hummed, a great blue pulse left the markings on his hand only to soar above and beyond the cliff-face. While that energy was racing towards their belongings, the hedgehog’s face took on a frankly goofy expression. Despite how casual this situation was, his commonly serious demeanour had leached through to make him look rather foolish. His very colourful and uniquely patterned shirt certainly wasn’t helping matters.

In no less than a minute, Blaze sighted a glowing bundle soaring over the bluff’s lip. Like some kind of soft meteor, the wrapped-up picnic basket crashed towards them, only just stopping before it could hit the hedgehog in the chest. As the pile swept past, she plucked her robe from the top and shouldered it.

“You’re sure that you’ll be able to get us back to the right time, aren’t you?” The princess asked, dusting the sand from her tights.

“I promise,” He smiled, floating the bundle behind them before stretching his hands forward. From the quills at the back of his head, a well-cut green stone flew to hover in front of them. A chaos emerald, his preferred source of energy.

As though he was washing a window with sponges strapped to both of his palms, the hedgehog began to wave his hands in repeated circles. More energy began to pool in front of him like a warbling plate, it quickly grew from the size of a droplet to become far larger than either of them. The outer edge of the disk gradually ceased in their shifting and the hedgehog’s hands fell to his sides. The effort did seem to take it out of him a little but, with them now both bathing in the light of transportation, he wouldn’t have to work again.

“After you,” He gestured ahead, plucking the emerald from the air.

Blaze, entirely trusting her partner, stepped forward. Shifting across time and space was, by now, practically second nature to her. Once upon a time she’d struggled with the instantaneous shift from one place to another, her first arrival in the other dimension had left her dizzy and exhausted. Now she knew some best practices; to close her eyes, hold her breath and keep her balance.

She stepped off of sand and straight onto hardwood.

The strong scent of coffee struck Blaze first, the only true amenity in the room was a small coffeepot set on a small side table. That much was enough to let Blaze know that they’d arrived. No wind rustled through her fur and the room was lit by a series of electric lights that had been plugged into the celling when she was five. They were at the heart of the palace, there were no windows for the sun to breach. Just a boring wooden table with reflective varnish. He walked in behind her, sealing the portal with no more than a wave as he finished arriving.

Compared to the world they’d just known; the silence of the meeting room was deafening. She already missed the breaking of waves and the ticking of the room’s clock wasn’t a worthy replacement. They’d manifested at the head of the table, her position, and were faced with six empty seats. A glance to the wall proved that Silver had stuck to his word, it was exactly ten minutes till one o’clock. On the long stretching desk, directly in front of her seat, was a bulky binder filled with notes and opened to the hour’s itinerary. Ah yes, she’d gone from running through forests, trudging through swamps and having a heart to heart on the beach to discussing where to bury the dead in no more than a moment.

How long had they spent away? She’d assumed that it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours but, in truth, time had been rather lost on her. Despite his intent being to create a time for resting, they’d ran and acted in such a wild manned. Instead, he’d energised her in an entirely different way. He’d brought her excitement; he’d given her the strength to carry on and get through today. How could she even begin to repay that?

An idea wriggled its way into Blaze’s head.

Nonchalantly, the feline redonned her robe and neatly fastened it before retaking her seat, pretending to scan her notes, “Well, everything seems to be in order…”

“I told you that I’d get us back on time,” She could hear the joy in his voice.

“You certainly did,” The princess squinted at the page, placing her finger beneath a chosen random word, “But it does look like the timeline has changed, ever so slightly.”

“W-What? It has?” He rushed to her side, leaning over her shoulder to look at the papers, “Blaze, what are you talking about? This is still all about refurbishing gravesto-

The moment he turned from the page to look at her, Blaze’s hand sunk into the quills on the back of his head and pulled him in just a little closer. He surely knew what she was about to do, she’d done it often enough, but that didn’t seem to stop him from becoming flustered. After a moment of staring, taking in his blushing face, Blaze closed her eyes and closed the distance.

Feeling him shudder at the first contact, wanting to return her efforts but being restricted by her hold, brought the princess endless jubilation. Blaze’s heartbeat shot up, as she pulled him in and offered him the slightest of opportunities. He hurriedly took it, pushing to further close the distance as is such a thing was possible. The taste of raspberry lemonade on his lips was just an added bonus. Feeling him grow tense beneath her touch, knowing that, despite his capacity to take her back in time, she had this power over him, was incredible. A might not born of her royal position or pyrokinetic might, but love.

The kiss didn’t last for long, of course. Not only did she have work to return to, but Blaze knew it was best to leave him wanting more. As she pulled back, her eyes reopened and his bashful face filled her vision. Eyes lit like overexcited lighting bolts, cheeks like poppy petals and a thorough look of overexcitement had claimed his face.

“S-So, I take it the timeline hasn’t actually changed then?” The psychic eventually asked.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” She smirked, “You’re the same naïve hedgehog you were when we left.”

“That’s good,” He struggled to reply, “I-I think.”

For a moment longer she simply stared into his eyes and watched him squirm. The princess didn’t especially wear makeup but the idea of leaving a lipstick stain on him had crossed her mind a handful of times. He probably wouldn’t even notice until it was too late. But, alas, similarly too late, they’d been lingering together for much too long. The pair of them had just spent hours together, she’d decided it was time to go, and yet she didn’t want to release him. What foolishness…

“I’ll see you in an hour and a half, perhaps a little longer,” She mused, still holding the back of his head, “If you can make such good use of two minutes, what can you do with so much more?”

“W-Well, um,” He squeaked, “I guess I’ll try to think of something?”

Her fingers uncurled from his quills but the hedgehog, plainly stunned, didn’t move, “I’m sure you will, but, for now, we must part.”

“O-Oh, right, yes, um,” He shot up straight, quickly looking away, “Good luck with, um, t-the graveyard people.”

“You’ll need to get used to this eventually,” She rolled her eyes. Despite the rarity of their kisses, given only when she was certain no one else could see, she’d thought that he’d have grown a little bolder by now. Despite the smallness of her action in comparison to his, the hedgehog was adorably lovestruck.

“I don’t know that I can do that in an hour and a half, even with time travel,” He mumbled, tugging at his chest fur, “And an extra fifteen minutes probably won’t change that.”

He could be so naïve, so blunt and oblivious. Without a second thought, Blaze rose from her seat and took him by the collar. Uttering nothing more than the word “Well, if you can’t manage that,” For the second time in so many minutes, her lips found his. The ticking of the wall clock filled her ears as they parted again, “Just brace yourself for when I finish up.”

[applepiry]

Karasuno University (Chap 1)

Chapter One - How you became the Boys College Volleyball Club’s Second Manager

“College AU - Karasuno University”

Short Fem!Reader x Will Have Multiple Partners

Contains: Jealously? Other parts will have other key words but this is just kind of a first meeting 

WC: 2.4k+

Y/N info: 

Freshman (18), 5’1 (154 cm), hair that can be put into styles (trying to be as non descriptive with it as i can be!), large chested (D and up), thick thighed, extremely quick for short bursts (can't jump or run for long distances though)

History Major with Art Minor; wants to be a teacher or museum director

Was Manager/Club Advisor for Art Club starting second year due to the dedication she showed the third and second years during first year

Has a mother, father, and two older brothers 

“L/N B#2” is in 3rd yr at Nekoma Uni (21) 

“L/N B#1” is already married with twin girls, he is a Associate Lawyer in Tokyo (27) 

(B#2 lives with him while Y/N lives with parents in Miyagi)

Parents own a bookstore with a small cafe “Cozy Nook” which belonged to grandparents but they needed help so YN and your parents moved back this year.

YN lives in the apartment above the store, and her parents live in the house behind it.

Childhood friends with Kiyoko Shimizu. Back in Middle School you were classmates with Tadashi Yamaguchi.

Moved from Miyagi to Tokyo, Nekoma High, during High School due to fathers job.

Other Notes: All the boys are at least 3-4 inches taller than they were during HS. 

I have a headcanon that Tanaka and Noya’s intense possessiveness quirk transferred over to Hinata haha (He was similar with Yachi after all)

Haikyu Masterlist 

-----------------------------------------------

How you met the Karasuno Universities Boy’s Volleyball Team… And became Manager in Training

Monday

Your first day at Karasuno University was going decently, going through your day without much interest until lunch when you ran into your childhood friend, Kiyoko Shimizu, who had basically been your big sister. You two had been from the same neighborhood as children, and she was friends with your second oldest brother. You had formed a quick attachment to her, since she was much nicer to you than your brother was. She had been the manager of the Boys Volleyball Club back in high school, and apparently was here at the University as well. 

She asked to catch up, and to meet her after practice had ended. You eagerly agreed, and knew you’d show up a little early to catch a glance at the surely hot volleyball boys. You hadn’t paid any attention back in high school aside from whether they won or lost, due to your own club activities, but you loved watching Volleyball. You actually weren’t too bad at it during PE, either. Surprisingly for someone so short, you were very quick when you wanted to be and were good at diving, since your plush chest and thighs often padded your slides.

After your last class, you went to the library to start on homework you’d already gotten. Once you had finished it, you looked at your phone and chewed on your lip as you noticed a text from Kiyoko, who let you know that practice would end around 7:00. Looking at the time, it was 6:00, and you figured it’d be a good time to head over. Packing up your stuff and slinging the bag across your shoulder, you head towards the boy volleyball’s practice gym. 

Sighing to yourself, you’re not really sure what to expect, having never met any of them. Sure, she had told you all about them over text and phone calls but you never had any faces to match up to the stories, then when she had graduated you hadn’t heard anything the last two years about the club. You had become the Manager for your own club, Art Club, second year, so unfortunately had been too busy to even entertain the idea of meeting any of them during high school. 

Plus, back then, you had hidden yourself behind glasses (whether you needed them or not), baggier clothing than needed and childish hairstyles, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. You had lacked the confidence to meet any boys, and honestly all boys did was pick on you. But, since then you had dedicated yourself to working on being so self conscious, learning to love your body and self after becoming Manager at the Art Club. Having so many people who depended on you and thought you were amazing was a really great confidence booster.

Getting to the gym at 6:40 due to your rather short legs and the gym being all the way across campus, you hear the rapid squeaking of tennis shoes from outside the door. Slowly, you open the door and crack it open, causing it to creak from the movement. Instantly, you feel eyes snap towards you, hearing a ball slap against the ground at the same time your eyes look up, seeing nearly the entire gym of boys staring at the door. At you. 

All of a sudden you see red, but not in the “im angry” way, your vision is literally filled with red-orange hair.

“Hi! Who are you?!” his happy voice fills your ears, causing you to snap out of your trance and stumble backwards.

“O-Oh, hello,” you stutter out and grasp at your bag, biting the inside of your lip. “I’m L/N, I’m here to see Kiyoko-nee-chan?” you say, trying to find her but the boy in front of you was tall enough to block your view. Not a shock, considering you’re likely the shortest college freshman ever. 

“Kiyoko?” he repeats, then turns and calls for her, “Kiyoko-senpai! There’s someone here to see you!”

Once he turns his shoulder, you can see nearly everyone in the gym, your eyes scanning over all the tall men. You nearly choke when you see most of them, well over a foot taller than you easily. Your eyes finally land on Kiyoko and you sprint towards her, across the gym in the blink of an eye. 

“Woah,” the red head murmurs from the door.

“Kiyoko-nee-chan!” you whine, grabbing onto her for dear life. You had not mentally prepared yourself for so many tall men. Sure, your brothers and dad were tall but there were only three of them. You had only met a handful of guys unrelated to you this large before, as you tended to just avoid men as a whole.

She smiles softly and gently pats your hair, “I told you I would text you when I was done,” she murmured softly.

“It’s getting dark outside,” you murmur to her.

“Woah, that was some dash you did!” said a man with a deep tenor voice. Kiyoko quickly introduced Daichi Sawamura, the Captain of the team. You bowed, thanking and apologizing to him for interrupting their practice and allowing it. He waved it off, saying it was nothing since Kiyoko had mentioned you’d likely be stopping by. This confused you, making you tilt your head. What had he meant by that?

“Wait, wait, who is this that knows our beautiful Kiyoko!?” one of the boys says and your eyes land on a buzzed headed boy who looked like a delinquent. 

“Yeah, yeah! Who?” says one of the shortest- no definitely the shortest- of the bunch with spiky hair, bouncing around just like the buzz-cut boy.

“Oh.. everyone, this is my childhood friend, F/N L/N-chan,” Kiyoko’s soft voice somehow fills the gymnasium and they all watch you with interest. “She’s back in town after having been in Tokyo for the last three years,” she added.

“Childhood friend?! What was in the water over there!?” the buzzed boy wonders loudly. 

“Right?!” says the short one, “She’s just as beautiful as our Kiyoko!” he adds as he nudges the boy beside him.

Your face gets hot, making you look down in embarrassment, “T-Thank you, s-senpai’s…” you murmur shyly to them both when you realize they’re complimenting you.

Both boys blink and stare at you for a moment before they suddenly begin screaming and running around the gym. “DID YOU HEAR THAT?!” “SHE CALLED ME SENPAI!” you hear the boys excitement in each statement, but you’re not quite sure why they’re so excited. You had only been being polite.

The orange haired boy is in front of you again with a large smile, holding out his hand. “I’m Shoyo Hinata!” he chirped happily. “Wait, did Kiyoko-senpai say you.. went to Tokyo for high school? Which one?” he wondered, tilting his head.

You glance at Kiyoko for a moment and she nods, encouraging you to make friends. You look back at the other, who is a good 20 cm taller than you, while most of the others easily hit 30-40 cm taller, aside from the other short one who perhaps was only 15 cm taller. You take his hand, noting how much larger it is than your own. 

“Nice to meet you… Yes, I did, I went to Nekoma...” you nearly whisper, looking into his big brown eyes. They flicker away from you when Daichi begins to speak. You realize you’re still holding Hinata’s hand, and he realizes as well as you both quickly pull away, both looking at the floor in embarrassment. He didn’t get a chance to reply before Daichi spoke.

“Hey team! Come meet L/N-chan!” Daichi said, surprising you. “Kiyoko wants to train her to be the next manager!” he told everyone. 

You blinked, looking up at Kiyoko, confused. She smiled her sweet small smile and nodded, “Want to?” she wondered quietly. “I know you know a lot about volleyball…” she added. She quickly explained that it was easier with two managers, and their other manager, Yachi-chan, had gone to Tokyo for college, which left them with an open spot.

You thought about it as the boys all gathered around to meet you. Finally, you nodded, a bit excited to try this out. Kiyoko smiled a bit wider than usual and hugged you tightly. You hugged her back, forgetting all the boys watching the pair of you. When she pulled away, you remembered, your face getting hot again as you fidgeted a bit. 

Turning to the team, you bowed, “I’m F/N L/N, pleased to meet all of you!” you do your best to be enthusiastic, keeping your head bowed for a moment before finally lifting your head.

Each of the boys introduces themselves, save from Daichi and Shoyo. Yu Nishinoya and Ryunosuke Tanaka getting rather close to you when they introduce themselves. Koshi Sugawara pulls them away and apologizes before introducing himself with a sweet smile.

You end up recognizing Tadashi Yamaguchi, as the two of you had been in the same class during middle school, and also had a few classes together this year as well. When meeting his giant of a friend, Kei Tsukishima, you nearly fell back just trying to look at his face. 

Asahi Azumane introduces himself rather shyly, while Chikara Ennoshita, Hisashi Kinoshita and Kazuhito Narita are all quick and kind. Chikara mentions he’s looking forward to working with you, which makes you fidget nervously with your nails. The last one to introduce himself comes up to you, his body movements stiff as he holds out his hand to you, saying his name was Tobio Kageyama. 

Tanaka and Nishinoya are dancing around like idiots, both of them excited to have another pretty girl around all the time. You let out a soft laugh when Hinata joined them, everyone staring at you in surprise for a moment. Your face heated up, shifting a bit as you got closer to Kiyoko. It was definitely going to be an adjustment getting used to the rowdy boys. 

Daichi got everyone to start cleaning up, while you, Kiyoko and Coach Ukai started talking about all the things that would go along with learning to be a manager. Since Kiyoko was still here, you’d have less responsibilities but they did expect you to help out whenever asked. You promised them both you’d do your best. 

-------------------------------------

“Hey, hey, LN, what was that crazy quick run before?! It was like Zoom!” Hinata said from behind you, causing you to turn to greet him. 

“Oh, yeah! I’ve only ever met Sho who was that fast! Like whoosh!” Nishinoya chimed in, appearing seemingly out of thin air.

“O-Oh, well, It’s only in short bursts and I.. erm, can’t do it much else…” you tell them with a soft nervous laugh. “I’m not that athletic, erm, but I do like Volleyball! I watch games all the time, and erm, I can toss a ball pretty okay!” you explain, tightening your hands into fists as you hyped yourself up, trying to push off those nervous jitters. Squeezing your hands close to your chest, you look up at the two before speaking again, “I’m going to do my best!” 

Nishinoya was biting his jersey, yanking at it as he nearly screamed, “You’re so cute!” his voice sounding strained.

Tanaka appeared behind Nishinoya and grinned, “She really is!” 

Hinata just looked away, but his bright red cheeks betrayed his thoughts. 

Daichi appeared next to you and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, “You’ll get used to them. They’re this way with Kiyoko too,” he said, his voice so gentle and yet so deep. 

You smiled sweetly at him and nodded, “Thank you for that, Sawamura-senpai.” 

“Daichi is fine, no need to be so formal,” he laughed. He gently pats your shoulder and leaves after that, the group gathering to go over the day's events since it was only their first practice this year together. 

They mentioned how it felt to have the old gang all back together, and how they couldn’t wait to get to the College Nationals. You were a bit surprised at how focused and intense all of them looked. However, it was quickly overtaken by pride for your new club.

Once the meeting was over, Kiyoko offered to drive you home, telling you she needed to get changed and she’d meet you back here. Standing near the gym, you lean against a pole and fidget with your phone as you wait for her.

“Hey, LN-chan!” you turned to see Tadashi, panting softly as he ran towards you. 

“Oh, hey, Yamaguchi!” you say happily, “I had totally forgotten you played Volleyball. I was surprised to see you,” you tell him.

“Same! I had no idea you knew Shimizu-senpai!” he said, nervously fidgeting with his bag. He seemed to be unsure what to say.

“Hey, should we exchange emails?” you ask, holding out your phone and opening it, ready to exchange information. His face lights up and he nods, tapping his phone against yours as the information transfers. Looking up, you see the tall blond behind him, staring at you, your eyes widening a bit, “Do.. you want to, too?” you wonder, tilting your head.

“Tch, no,” he snaps, his head quickly turning away as he begins to stride off.

“S-Sorry about Tsukki! Let’s h-hang out later,” Tadashi stutters out nervously before running off after his giant friend.

“What’s his problem?” you grumble. 

“He’ll need to warm up to you,” a deep voice you recognize as Kageyama, standing there near the door.

“Oh, hey Kageyama,” you say, blinking in surprise.

“Can I get your info, too?!” you hear, your eyes landing on Hinata as he pops out from behind Kageyama. Where had he come from? But, you smile and nod, tapping your phone against his as the information transfers and saves. “T-Thanks!” he says, his eyes sparkling and wide.

“M-Me too!” Kageyama says, his voice stiff and formal, even if you are the same age.

“Us too!” “Yeah don’t leave out your senpai!” Tanaka and Nishinoya come around the corner, the two of them holding out their phones as they jog towards you. 

After exchanging with them, Kiyoko comes back, and you finally make your leave with Kiyoko. With lots of waves and enthusiastic goodbyes. 

Once in her car, she tells you a bit more about the boys and what the team is striving for as she drives you home, and you take all of it in, excited and nervous for everything that this new opportunity would bring.

Next Part

[ohmy7hearts]

Being an Amazon and Tim Drake’s significant other; pt. 2

A/N: my grammar is all over the place,, so just don’t mind that,,, on a more exciting note!! i’m planning to take A levels next year despite graduating with diploma in March so,,, idk how committed I would be to writing ((like i was in the beginning lololol))

prev

They have made it clear that whatever you did will not earn you any sort of favours from them. So you have decided to just avoid them entirely, using your enhanced abilities to sneak around the tower, like some kind of burglar - dashing off to your room when you hear the littlest sound of voices coming towards your direction, peeking out at the corridors before walking down them, not joining them when they go out for their outings or having their movie night

Honestly, Gar and Bart were the only ones who felt bad about leaving you out entirely. They tried suggesting subtly but it was always met with glares or just shut down before they could convince anyone

The two of them band together to try and make you be friendlier with the rest of the team to earn their trust back

However, no matter how much they’ve tried, your enhanced skills always leave you one step above

So they have to take things the hard way, they infiltrated your room

You were not happy to see the two - no matter how sheepish and sorry they look and how fast they try to talk into listening to them - and literally threw them out of the room

Tim was walking past to witness the whole thing. He gave an offhand remark about leaving people alone and respecting their personal space. Honestly, he just doesn’t want you hanging around with the rest of the team. He felt so vulnerable with you and he sucks at keeping his emotions in check. The last thing he needed was for you to even hint about his crush on Cassie - the team was too smart and pick it up straight away

There was a mission that forced you out of your room, some illegal drug smuggling by the coast. The plan was a simple get in, kick their ass and get out to call the police right on time. Hence, you were told to standby - to watch how the team works so you wouldn’t be confused about how to work with others in the near future

You merely shrugged and waited on the roof as told while the rest of the team entered to seize the operation

However, you see someone sneaking around the shadows and your gut was telling you to go down and help them. You don’t want to cause any more trouble with the team than you already did but you knew they needed help

And from the sounds of it, with the screaming and gears going off, they were ambushed. So, albeit reluctantly, you went in and saved their asses

Despite that, that wasn’t the team’s primary focus. Apparently, the assailant was provoking them and he - Slade was it? - knew where it hurts the most 

Conner was up and arms with Tim about his supposed crush on Cassie with the latter not helping in dissuading the situation despite being a team leader. The team themselves want to intervene but it was escalating badly

You rolled your eyes, going to help Bart with an unconscious beast boy. You three headed back to the aircraft without saying much despite you being able to see Bart opening his mouth and closing it again in hopes of finding the right words to break the ice between the two of you

You tended to Beast Boy’s wounds with Bart vibrating behind you, peering over your shoulder then zooming to and fro the small space whenever you requested for some medical ointments

The peace was broken when the rest of the team rolled in with looks of exasperation and exhaustion and Tim and Conner gone. Bart launched his questions, worry apparent in his voice and features but Cassie merely waved her hand to dismiss him

Starfire sat beside you, staring at a patched up Beast Boy, before muttering thanks to you. You looked at her from the corner of your eyes before nodding slightly

The moment you all touched down, Cyborg took Beast Boy in his arms, nudging you away when you were about to. Shrugging your shoulders, you retreated back to your room

Of course, that didn’t come easy as Bart tried to talk to you, chattering about endless subjects, following you till you both faced your bedroom door

You raised an eyebrow at him and for the first time you noticed the wrangling of his arms out of nervousness and the constant darting of eyes from corner to corner

“I just want you to know that you have a friend in me. I know it’s weird with how we almost died - but hey, we didn’t so that’s a win for us - and the team is falling apart - to which I find is totally ridiculous if you’re curious cause technically you can’t control your feelings for someone but I’m not saying that Red Robin is in the wrong but neither is he right but so is Conner but he’s always been emotional and there’s nothing wrong with that but, wait - what was I saying?”

You considered him, eyes scanning him from toe to the ends of his hair, putting him further on edge and a small part in you almost grin manically at that, before you hummed in acknowledgement and spinning into your room

Behind the closed door, you can hear him shouting about it’ll be nicer if you actually talk instead of just humming and nodding and going off tangent to which you smiled at before soaking yourself for a bath

After that day, you returned to your routine of avoiding everyone - despite Bart and Beast Boy knocking on your door every now and then with invitations; Bart being more annoying and persistent and threatening to vibrate through the walls - and stumbled upon Tim one late night when Bart was in the same room as you

Too engrossed in making a late-night snack, and half-listening to Bart’s one-sided conversation, you didn’t hear him creep around -  kudos to Batman for teaching his sidekicks to be discreet successfully

“You’re still here?” His biting tone was what greeted you and with a blank expression, you raised an eyebrow at him

Bart, ever the peaceful one, jumped to your defence while trying to deter Tim from spiralling further into his foul mood

You pick up your snacks, glancing back one last time before leaving, scoffing “At least I add value to the team and not just participating in petty arguments.”

Tim snarled about how he was wanted, unlike you with the Amazons and the team

Your jaw tensed, blood turning cold, eyes seeing red and were ready to maul at him but Bart literally intervene 

Somehow, that tick Tim the wrong way and him sneering about your boy toy and Bart being such an idiot, which was not surprising

Bewildered, he stood there with mouth agape not believing that the person in front of him was one of the people he always admired for his determination, levelheadedness and thoughtfulness

You rolled your eyes, mocking his emotional intelligence or lack thereof was the reason why he was so isolated from everyone despite how much he tried fitting in with people

Dragging a shell shocked Bart to the rooftop for an unplanned heart-to-heart

You didn't - or even bother to - see the hurt flitting briefly on Tim’s face

Discomfort was something rare when Bart was around but with how quiet he was, you started prattling about your life on Amazon without actually revealing much about your own history; you were not ready for that vulnerability

That somehow got his attention; with childlike wonder, he questioned you one after another and you patiently answered

You didn’t know how long you both stayed there and it was hard to keep track with how seamlessly the conversation flowed to his whereabouts and history and dreams but you knew when the sun bathed you two in sunlight, Bart was already dozing off while still murmuring about something

And for once in a long time, you were content

[winterisakiller]

Little Changes

Title: Little Changes

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Allie Thompson (OFC)

Genre: romance/angst

Rating: G

Summary:  Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

Authors Notes/Warnings: This was written for @redfoxwritesstuff 500 follower writing challenge. My prompt was “I’m pregnant.” I set out initially thinking I’d run this prompt with Tom and Cath from Brave Face but the more I thought on it, the more I realized it would be the perfect opportunity to revisit Tom and Allie from my fic for @babylevines 4k challenge Perfectly Imperfect. I always intended on coming back to these two and this challenge felt like the perfect opportunity. A great big shout out to @nonsensicalobsessions who was my second set of eyes on this fic and my sounding board. You’ve been such an amazing help and I cannot thank you enough!

Tag list: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope @blacksuitofdoom @wolfsmom1 @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @just-the-hiddles​ @theoneanna​ @hiddlescastle​ @nonsensicalobsessions​  @echantedbytwh @alexakeyloveloki @sabine-leo

Allie Thompson felt the strap of her carryon bag dig into the palm of her hand as she let her eyes roam over the customs hall at JFK. The large room was filled nearly to the brim with tired, bored, and antsy people, all waiting in a queue that seemed never ending. She cursed herself yet again for not buying a rolling carryon. Never thought you’d need it, did you, Thompson?

 The trip had been impulsive. Stupidly, recklessly impulsive. Allie had to keep reassuring herself that she was only taking up Tom’s offer to have her come and see him (and the city). In the nearly two months since he’d come New York he’d tried everything he could seemingly think of to convince Allie to throw caution to the wind and stay with him, if only for a short while. And each and every time she’d turned him down. Not out of a lack of desire (she missed him far more than she was willing to admit to anyone least of all herself), but for various (and frustratingly valid as far as she was concerned) reasons. The office was short staffed, she’d just gotten a promotion at work and asking for the time off wouldn’t reflect well on her next appraisal, the flight was more than she could afford at the time (despite saving up what she could out of each pay).

 Tom had offered, repeatedly, to let him pay her airfare and each time Allie told him she couldn’t accept. It was pride more than anything which kept her from doing so, they both knew it, but more than that, she didn’t feel right having him spend money on her. Not that much. Not when she couldn’t repay him for such generosity. It didn’t feel right, taking his money no matter how freely he seemed to offer it. Allie knew that Tom suspected that was a large part of her refusal and hadn’t fought her on it. At least not as much as she knew he wanted to; she could hear it plainly in his voice each time they spoke.

 Now here she was, standing in this stupidly long queue wondering for the thousandth time if she was making a horrid mistake in coming. Her back twinged irritatingly and she rocked herself back and forth on the balls of her feet hoping to ease some of the tension. Why hadn’t she thought to throw her heating pad into her bag before she’d left? Thank god she hadn’t gotten sick on the plane; the frequent nausea and vomiting that had taken over her life in the last few weeks had been bad enough in the privacy of her flat or the toilets at work. On a speeding metal tube in what felt like a coffin...The idea didn’t bear thinking.

 Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

 The next thing she’d done once the shock and panic had worn off was call the local family clinic and book an appointment for bloodwork and the necessary testing. Before she brought Tom’s world to a halt, she had to be certain it wasn’t a fluke. They’d been able to fit her in the following day, for which she’d been grateful. Her manager had let her have the morning off after commenting she’d looked a bit peaky regardless.

 Sitting on the crinkled paper that covered the cushioned exam table, Allie felt her stomach roil. She’d only half listened to the information the doctor discussed with her; taking in that she was indeed pregnant and a little over three months gone. She’d taken the paper the doctor had handed her along with the packet of vitamins with shaking hands. This was real. It was happening and even with the paperwork in hand Allie still couldn’t make sense of it.

 With an air of calm which she didn’t fully feel, Allie had made her way home and grabbed the luggage she’d bought for a holiday she’d taken with friends years back and packed the first pieces of clothing her hands touched. She wasn’t sure when she’d made the conscious decision to tell him in person (this wasn’t something she felt could be done over the phone no matter how she feared the potential outcome) but somewhere between her leaving the clinic and walking up the stairs to her flat, she’d known.  

 The phone call to Luke hadn’t been as awkward as she’d feared. They’d met a few times and had gotten on well enough. He’d been quite up front with her about the realities of being in a relationship with someone like Tom and made sure she understood more or less what she was potentially getting herself into. With the same breath he welcomed her to the madness. She found she liked his frankness and how he clearly cared for Tom not just as a client but as a friend. Luke had been all too eager to help her arrange her impromptu trip, making sure Tom’s people in New York were aware of her pending arrival. She’d asked him to make sure Tom didn’t know she was coming. Luke had laughed, “This is going to be such a fantastic surprise for him, you don’t want to know how much he’s been whinging about missing you.”

 Allie had laughed along with Luke, ignoring the twisting in her gut. It would certainly be a surprise but she hadn’t a clue if either Tom or Luke (when push came to shove, Luke would need to be told and that was nearly as terrifying as telling Tom) would consider it a good one. Pushing those thoughts aside she’d booked a nonstop flight from Heathrow to JFK and cleared the week she’d need with her boss (which hadn’t been the most pleasant conversation).

 The flight had thankfully been uneventful though she’d hardly slept the entire way. And not for lack of trying. Her mind wouldn’t seem to shut off, playing over and over again the various (and most often unpleasant) reaction awaiting her in New York. The lack of sleep was something she was most certainly paying for now. God, what she wouldn’t give for a hot shower and sleep. But that she feared would not be for a long while yet.

 What felt like hours later, Allie found herself at the front of the queue handing her passport to the stony-faced customs agent and answering the questions asked of her. Who was she here to see? Her boyfriend (the word still felt odd) who was working in the States. How long would she be staying? Maybe a week. She waited with baited breath as the agent looked first at her, then at the passport before stamping it and handing it back to her with a monotone,  “Welcome to New York.”

 Stamped passport in hand, she made her way towards the baggage claim. Once she’d grabbed her rolling case (and made a mad dash for the nearest toilet, the nausea had decided now would be a spectacular time to make its reappearance. Thank god she’d kept the amenity kit in her purse so she could clean her teeth after), Allie made her way into the arrivals hall proper and scanned the crowd. Luke had insisted on setting up transport from the airport to Tom’s temporary dwelling and despite a string of protests refused to budge on the issue. The man was just as, if not more, stubborn than Tom and fighting him on anything was nothing short of an exercise in futility.

 She spotted a tall man dressed in a pair dark trousers, matching jacket, and white button-up shirt holding a sign bearing her name standing towards the back of the waiting crowd. He smiled politely at her as she approached and offered to take her bags. Allie thought for a moment of protesting but banished the thought almost at once. The man (whose name was Frank, she’d learned later) was simply doing his job and she had no right to make it difficult for him to do so (even if she was quiet capable of wrangling her own baggage). Quietly, the pair made their way from the noisy hall and out into the bright sunlight of the afternoon. She was ushered into the waiting black SUV as Frank took her luggage round the back and placed it in the boot.

 The car was quite nice, Allie noted with a tired sigh as she settled herself onto the supple leather of the backseat. Far nicer than the battered Nissan Micra she had back home; a holdover from her university days that she’s scrimped and saved for. It wasn’t much to look at but it was reliable and that was honestly all that mattered. She hardly used it anyhow, mainly just when she left the city to visit family or simply escape from the hustle and bustle of it all. She rested her head back against the smooth headrest and allowed her eyes to flutter closed. God, she was tired. Just a few moments, she told herself. I’ll just rest my eyes for a few moments.

 Allie jolted awake at the feel of a hand on her shoulder. Blinking in confusion, she let her gaze roam over her surroundings; the dimly lit interior of an SUV and the sounds of a city echoing from its opened door. New York, her brain finally chimed in. I’m in New York. Tom. And just like that she was suddenly awake. The familiar nerves roared to life once more as just why she’d come flooded back into her conscious thoughts.

 “Sorry,” she murmured to Frank who’d gotten out of the car and come around to wake her. “I must have dozed off.”

 “It’s fine,” he answered with a knowing smile, “You looked like you needed it.”

 Allie nodded quietly and slid from the backseat out onto the pavement. Her eyes drifted upwards, taking in the buildings surrounding them. She’d seen New York countless times in films and on television but it was quite odd actually being there. The building they’d parked beside was massively tall, covered in faded tan brick, painted brick she noted on closer inspection. The glass door reflected the bright sunlight, obscuring her view inside. Smiling softly, she took the handle of her bag, which Frank had placed beside her and took a deep breath before following him inside.

 She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the lobby. The wheels of her checked bag echoed as they rolled across the tiled floor towards the lifts at the far end of the hall. The wall beside the door lined with several metal letter boxes each labeled with what Allie assumed were flat numbers. She’d known from her various calls with Tom that rather than staying in a hotel for the duration of the play, he’d opted at renting a furnished flat in a building close enough to the theater to be walkable but far enough away that it hopefully would be off of most enthusiastic fans radars. While a hotel would be more convenient in terms of cleaning and meals (there was certainly something to be said about room service, he’d confessed), having his own space and privacy won out. And she was eternally grateful for that now. Especially if things ended badly. Less prying eyes and whispered voices in a private dwelling. More of a chance she could make a quiet, dignified retreat if needed.

 Shaking the negative thoughts away, Allie followed Frank into the lift. They arrived on the tenth floor moments later and she allowed him to lead the way towards a darkly stained wooden door at the end of the hall. Frank pulled a key from his pocket and made swift work of the lock, pushing the door open. Sunlight poured in through the opened curtains, flooding the flat with bright light. He stood aside to let her enter, handing her the key as she passed.

 “This is yours for the time being. He should be back sometime in the next hour or so. Make yourself at home.” He smiled and took his leave.

 Allie closed the door firmly behind him, locked it, and leant back against it, taking a deep breath. She was here and now all she could do was wait for his return. With effort, she pushed herself up and allowed herself to glance around the flat’s open planned living room stroke kitchen. It was minimally, but comfortably, furnished with richly stained wooden tables and an inviting black fabric couch. Books lined the coffee and side tables and pendant lighting hung down from the ceiling. The room wasn’t terribly tidy; there were a pair of trainers laying haphazardly on their side near the short hallway which she assumed led on to the sleeping area and bathroom and various bits and bobs scattered over the backs of chairs. Several toys she recognized as Bobby’s lay strewn across the wooden floor.

 The kitchen was small, but functional. Bright white uppers paired with darker base cabinets and a neutral stone countertop. There was a stainless steel gas range with a matching microwave above and a large fridge beside it. The sink was deep and stainless steel as well. A coffee press and toaster were arranged against the back of the counter alongside a small electric kettle. Allie chuckled softly to herself as her eyes lingered on the bowl and mug left sitting on the counter next to the sink.

 Leaving her bags tucked beside the couch, Allie made her way into the kitchen and set to tidying up. It was silly, and something she knew she absolutely did not need to do, but it gave her something to do with her hands and seemed to quiet the small, nagging voice of doubt in her head. She cleaned when she felt anxious or uneasy; Allie couldn’t say why other than it gave her something she could have control over. Tom seemed to find it amusing, stating he knew when something was up by how spotless her place was…And sometimes by how spotless his was.

 Allie let out a quiet groan; Tom would know in an instant something wasn’t quite right, even through the shock of her surprise arrival. Even distracted, Tom was sharp when it came to detail. It was part of what made him so damned good at his chosen field. However, there was nothing to do for it now. Setting to work, Allie grabbed the plate and mug, placing them in the sink and turning on the hot tap. She had to rummage to find the washing up liquid and a sponge; how it had managed to get wedged in the very back of the cupboard under the sink she’d never understand. From there she let herself get lost in the heat of the water and the repetitiveness of the task.

 Once the dishes were cleaned and put away, she forced herself to walk back into the living room and settle on the couch. Ignoring the temptation to straighten, if only for its ability to help her keep hold of her nerves, Allie forced herself instead to pick up the remote from the top off the darkly stained wooden coffee table and turn on the television. There wasn’t a great deal to choose from, which wasn’t surprising given it was early afternoon in the middle of the week, a handful of daytime chat shows and several daytime dramas. Sighing, she settled on one of the chat shows not caring overmuch what was happening on screen. She half listened as the women settled around a table chatting about the latest bit of celebrity news, her eyes drifting shut once more. Gods above, she was tired.

 The sound of a key turning in the lock jolted Allie awake. She sat bolt upright on the couch, blinking rapidly at the disorientation before, and quickly switched off the television, dropping the remote back onto the table. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the door. Through the thick wood she could hear Bobby’s muffled barks and the soothing timbre of Tom’s voice in response. She felt her heart hammering in her chest as she watched the knob turn and the door push slowly open.

 A blur of brown swept into the apartment, loud barks echoing as the spaniel darted inside and towards Allie. He buried his face into her knees before bouncing up and attempting to bury her face in kisses.

 Startled, Tom rushed in yelling, “What in the world…” His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on Allie laughing and squirming on the couch beneath an overly excited Bobby.

 Pushing the spaniel off, Allie locked her eyes on Tom’s wide, startled gaze. “Hi,” she whispered, pushing her hair out of her face to see him clearly.

 “You’re here,” Tom breathed, taking several slow steps into the flat, letting the door swing closed behind him. “You’re actually here.”

 Allie nodded. “I’m here.”

 Tom dropped the bag he’d been carrying on his shoulder to the floor and launched himself at her, a wide smile on his face. With a yelp of startlement, Allie fell backwards onto the couch, Tom’s warm weight pressing her firmly into the cushions. She let out a breathless laugh as she found herself wrapped tightly in his arms. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips. Bobby, who’d backed quickly out of the way as his master seemed to take leave of his senses, barked happily before jumping up beside them on the couch and licking both of their faces.

 Pulling back and laughing, Tom shooed the spaniel away. “Enough you furry menace. Off the couch.”  

 Bobby blinked up at Tom before complying with begrudging grace and padding to his own doggy bed. He grabbed the red, stuffed toy that lay beside the bed and chewed it while watching them with wide, sad eyes.

 Tom shook his head, pulling himself up into a sitting position and turned his attention immediately back towards Allie who did the same. “I can’t believe you’re actually here. When did you…Why didn’t you say you were coming?”

 Allie pulled back, feeling the familiar dread cooling once more in her stomach. She crossed her arms in front of her. “It was kind of a last minute thing,” she answered, honestly. “I called Luke and…”

 Tom let out a short, loud laugh and shook his head. “No wonder the wanker looked so smug this morning…He knew you’d be here.”

 She shrugged. “I asked him not to say anything.”

 “And he certainly didn’t,” Tom laughed. “I hadn’t the faintest idea.” He pulled Allie tightly against him and kissed her head once more. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he repeated again and she could feel his smile against her hair. “I’ve missed you.”

 “I missed you too.”

 And she had, desperately. It felt wonderful, being in his arms again. The comforting heat and weight of him against her was like coming home. It scared her, just how much this man had come to mean to her in such a relatively short amount of time. And now…

 Reluctantly, Allie pulled back reaching up to take Tom’s hands in her own. It was tempting, sorely tempting to say nothing…Just for a little while. To bask in the simple joy of being back with the man she loved. However, she knew it would only be delaying the inevitable. He needed to know, whatever the outcome. Any delaying techniques would be just that, it wouldn’t fix or change anything.

 Tom met her eyes, confusion shining steadily in his own at her second disengagement in just as many minutes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 Allie swallowed against the lump in her throat. She’d spent most of the flight over thinking of just what to say; how to tell him that in a few short months there would be another person in their lives. Over and over again, she had agonized over her wording, her timing, his reaction. All of it. And it wasn’t as if she feared he’d lose it completely and chuck her out, she’d known Tom well enough to understand he wouldn’t do something like that, but that didn’t mean he’d embrace the news with open arms.

 The timing was terrible; he had projects lined up well into the following year. How could he possibly juggle the demands of impending fatherhood when he’d barely be around? How could she ask him to? They’d only been together seven months, and the last two of those there had been an ocean between them. There we so many reasons for this to be the thing that would sink them; Allie knew that. Having a baby didn’t guarantee a successful relationship or a relationship in general. Tom could very easily walk away, she didn’t think he would deny the child, but he could choose to minimize his presence in their lives. And while Allie knew she could, and would, handle raising this child on her own if she had to, it wasn’t ideal. She wanted Tom to be involved, to be beside her through it all. The ball was ever so firmly in his court with this and it terrified her.

 “Allie,” Tom pleaded, reaching down to take her hand and squeezing her hands with his own. “Talk to me, please. Whatever it is we’ll mange it. Talk to me.”

 He sounded so sure, so confident, and she wanted nothing more than to believe him. But the fear was still there, still clinging to her like a second skin.

 She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes tightly before raising them to his once more. “I’m pregnant.”

 The words fell from her lips in almost a whisper. Had it not been for the way his eyes widened at the words or his slackened grip, Allie could have convinced herself he hadn’t heard them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and fought the urge to stare down at them rather than at Tom.

 “You’re pregnant?” Tom whispered, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. A silence, which felt as if it were choking the life from her. His words did little to calm the racing of her heart. The tone of them wasn’t censorious nor were they exactly welcoming. Unease and disappoint roared within her.  

 Allie nodded, not trusting her voice.

 “Pregnant,” he murmured again, as if he were trying to make sense of it. Another long pause before he uttered, “How far?”

 Her eyes fell from his.

 “A little over three months,” she answered, “according to the scans.” Her hand rested unconsciously against her abdomen and she could feel his eyes on her. She couldn’t raise her own to meet them. She didn’t want to see the disapproval or disappointment in them. Too soon. This is all too soon.

 “So just before…” His voice trailed off.

 The last few weeks before he’d headed to New York had been filled with stolen moments. At his place. At hers. There had been something to the idea that it could be months before she would get to touch him, to feel him, that had driven Allie (and Tom it seemed) to what felt like desperation. They’d been careful, or so she’d thought. Clearly they hadn’t been careful enough. She wondered idly just when they’d slipped up and if he was wondering as well.

 Allie nodded. “Yes.”

 Tom ran a hand through his shaggy hair but didn’t say anything further. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “The timing is horrendous, I know. And I get that it’s way too soon and neither of us are ready for this…” She was rambling and she knew it but the need to explain was overwhelming her ability to think and speak rationally. “You don’t have to be involved, I won’t think ill of you for not…”

 Tom’s hand rested firmly on her knee, silencing her. He took a slow, deep breath before speaking. “Do you want this?”

 She blinked at him, the words not making any sort of sense to her already sleep-starved, panicked mind. “Wha-what?” She stammered back, confusion coloring her tone, “I don’t know what…”

 He squeezed her knee with a firm gentleness she hadn’t expected. “Having a baby is a big thing,” he started, his eyes locked on her face as if he were studying her. “It’s life changing. For you more than anything. Yes, the timing isn’t ideal for either of us. And I know that you’re scared of what I’m thinking and feeling. But Allie…I don’t want you to worry about what you think I want or what anyone else will say. This is, first and foremost, your life and as such it is your choice. I will respect whatever it is you want. So please tell me,” Tom locked his eyes on hers. “Allie, do you want this?”

 A million different thoughts flooded through her mind. She was scared; scared she wasn’t ready, scared she’d be a crap mum, scared he’d walk away and she’d be left alone. But along with that fear was the small, bright, stubborn fragment of hope. She wanted this baby, wanted Tom to want it too. Even though this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Sense, it seemed, mattered not. She wanted this. Wanted it fiercely.

 Wordlessly, she nodded.

 Tom’s face split into a warm, bright smile and he reached out, placing his hand gently against the, as of yet, non-existent curve of her abdomen. “We’re having a baby.”

 Allie laughed, feeling her eyes prickle with relieved tears. “We are.”

 “Oh god,” Tom breathed, his voice breaking with soft laughter, “Luke is going to murder me.”

[gloves94]

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 22

Rating: PG-13   Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Cursing?

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

MY MASTER-LIST

It had downright been a foul week.

The First Task of the Triwizard tournament had already occurred.

Thankfully nobody had been injured too badly. Harry had received a scratch from the dragon and had come in first tied with Krum for first place. Fleur had come in last and Cedric, after having some points deducted from having part of his face burnt off by the dragon, came in third. This incident had landed him in the Hospital Room where he was constantly surrounded by hordes of adoring fans, friends and students that were concerned for him.

It was early on a Saturday when Nel decided to pay her friend a visit. Thankfully it seemed like the Hospital Room was vacant with the exception of Madame Pomfrey.

She approached Cedric who was sitting on his bed content with half of his beautiful symmetrical face covered by a bandage that would hopefully heal nicely. “So what’s the verdict Scarface?” She asked crudely as she took a seat on the chair next to his hospital bed.

The older boy looked up from a get-better card he had been reading and smiled at his business associate laughing slightly at what he interpreted to be a joke.

“Madame Pomfrey says it’ll heal nicely, won’t even leave a scratch.”

Of course, it wouldn’t.

Leave it to Cedric to keep his stupidly beautiful face intact after almost having it burnt off. Hell, who knows he could be the only one able to be able to pull off a half-burnt face and look just as handsome.

“You cost me ten galleons,” She sighed crossing her arms over her chest upset.

“You bet on me?” Cedric laughed a little incredulously. “Like a racehorse?”

She didn’t want to think about the stupid bet Malfoy had talked her into.

“Ladies choice,” Draco had said with the mocking tone of a gentleman as they sat in the stands ready to witness the four champions taken on the first task.

Without giving it much thought Nel bet on Cedric. She needed him to win if she wanted to get paid. Also, why would she doubt his abilities?

“You’re not betting on Scarhead?” Malfoy scoffed. “What? No faith in your friend?” He spat out the word friend almost as if it was toxic.

“I’m not going to bet on Harry exactly because he’s my friend!” She huffed irritated. (It wasn’t a complete lie.)

If only Cedric hadn’t slipped towards the end. She should’ve bet on Harry who at least tied with Krum. Then maybe she would’ve been ten galleons richer instead of having to painfully cough them up. At the rate these bets were going she would lose all her money to a brat that didn’t even need it.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Draco said ostentatiously taking the golden coins from her. It really wasn’t fair.

Come on! He didn’t even need it!

“Don’t talk to me,” She grumbled before leaving and going to check on Cedric at the Hospital Room.

“I’m running a business Diggory,” She said cooly.

Cedric eyed her oddly. She could be so strange sometimes.

“I thought that was you the other day, standing by the door, hiding,” He teased sitting up taller. She avoided his hazel eyes. Nel would’ve never admit it to her business partner but naturally she was concerned for him. I mean who wouldn’t? The golden boy had almost been turned into a roast marshmallow.

“I’ve got a clue for you,” She informed. “About the second task.”

He looked at her attentively. The Second Task of the tournament wouldn’t be until late February and they were barely at the end of November. How had she figured it out so quickly?

“I think it has to do with the Great Lake,” she said scratching her chin seeming deep in thought. Or at least that’s what Nathair had mentioned to her. The adder had said that when creeping around the castle grounds he had seen some men in suits, probably from the Ministry of Magic as well as Dumbledore, Hagrid and others walking around the Black Lake’s perimeter. “Some of the Ministry members were seen walking around it.”

“What? You think they’re going to make us wrestle the Giant Squid now?” His eyes widened slightly at the horrible thought.

“Not sure,” Her brows knitted together. Honestly, she wouldn’t put it past the Ministry of Magic. Her eyes fixing on a random spot on the window above his hospital bed. “What about your clue?” She turned her attention to the large golden egg besides his bed.

Cedric explained it was just terrible shrieking. Completely undistinguishable noise. He said it didn’t sound like anything he had ever heard before. Both tossed and debated some ideas of what the potential next task could be.

“Whatever it is, I’ll keep doing some research,” she stood up and stuck her hand inside of her book bag. “Here,” She spoke her voice less harsh as she pulled out a card that was lamely hand crafted and a knitted thing that resembled a lemon? Or a ball?

He eyed it curiously as he picked it up and gave it a strong squeeze. “Did you make this?”

“It’s a knit lemon stress ball. It’s enchanted to never explode no matter how hard it is squeezed,” She explained. “Feel better,” She said quietly, ready to run to the opposite side of the room. Embarrassed for showing concern over the Hufflepuff. Specially for Cedric. To him this was probably garbage, his friends and fans had probably gifted him way nicer and more useful presents.

“Thanks, Nel, this is really thoughtful,” He smiled sincerely flashing her the dashing smile that made all the girls around him swoon. She remained silent simply wanting to exit the room as quickly as possible. “Where are you going?”

“Snape has summoned all the Slytherins in the Assembly Room. Merlin knows what kind of vile torture he’s got in mind for us,” she half joked.

Xxx

Despite having been joking, the Slytherin hadn’t been far off. Snape did have a torturous idea in mind. Ballroom dancing. With him.

“There you are!” Tracey said to her friend the moment she arrived to the large room where all of Slytherin House was gathered. Snape stood in the center of the room looking beyond irritated. Even Mr. Filch was in the room standing by the sides next to an ancient looking record player, holding his dancing partner Mrs. Norris in his arms. “Where were you?” Tracey asked.

“Oh!” Nel shot her a mean glare. “So, I can’t ask where you’ve been, but you can?” She shot before giving her friend the cold shoulder.

Tracey grew silent and looking burdened with guilt turned away from her friend ignoring the stab she had just taken at her. It was true. Tracey had now been sneaking off been missing from everybody’s radar from weeks and nobody seemed to know where she was, what she was doing or who she was with. It even seemed like Tracey had crossed the point of lying after having been caught in one of her lies more than once.

On the other hand, Daphne seemed much too distraught by the current events.

“Isn’t this exciting?” She said in a dreamy tone as she beamed at her friends and clapped her perfectly manicured hands together.

“What is?” The dark eyed girl uttered in a dark tone as she glared at an older Slytherin that had been starring at her from across the room. It also seemed like the audience had been divided into males one side of the room females in the other.

“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard tournament since its inception. On Christmas Eve night we and our guest gather in the Great Hall for a trivial and rather dull conviviality,” Snape began to explain. His nasal voice echoing off the walls of the large room lulling some younger students to sleep. “As representatives of the host school and Slytherins I expect each and every one of you will represent the House with pride. Foolish behavior will be unacceptable, and I will not tolerate the lot of you acting like a cluster of dunderheads,” He took inhaled a deep breath sounding absolutely drained. “Sadly, the Yule Ball is first and foremost a dance and to save yourselves and Slytherin House the grueling humiliation - we will be reviewing the basics of ballroom… dancing,” he scowled almost spitting out the word as if it physically hurt him to say it.

Most of the girls in the room chatted excitedly and turned to gush at their friends. One of those being Daphne who probably already knew what she was going to wear, how she was going to do her hair and make-up and probably even who her date would be. Tracey looked terribly uncomfortable through the meeting keeping her gaze lowered to the wooden floor and Nel had a blank look of confusion on her face. She had a hard time telling her right from left how was she supposed to bloody learn how to ballroom dance and from Snape.

“I am certain the majority of you have had dance lessons before,” He grumbled almost resembling a miserable wet crow. This ball, it almost sounded like he had a personal vendetta against it. Yikes.

Amongst the excited girls was Pansy who felt the need to make an announcement. “I’ve been taking lessons since I was six,” she bragged proudly while keeping her eyes fixed on the prize. A certain blond across the room. Was she secretly hoping to impress him?

Most of the males groaned dreading having to hunt down dates and get their dancing shoes ready.

“Congratulations Parkinson,” Snape said deprecatingly his tone heavily dripping with sarcasm. “I will now proceed to demonstrate the basic footwork with somebody inexperienced who lacks the proper grace required to perform the art of dancing.”

Nel was too busy snickering at the Professor’s sarcastic comment she didn’t realize he called on her. Pansy shot her a triumphant glare, that’s what she got for laughing.

“What?” She looked around the room nervously. She would’ve been a lot braver if he had asked her to slay a dragon or take down a giant squid. Nel had never danced in her life. Maybe that one time when Wool’s Orphanage held a local fundraiser back in London in which the children had to torturously perform a dance to “Jingle Bell Rock”; Even that had been a catastrophe. She winced slightly at the embarrassing memory of accidentally kicking a boombox directly into someone’s face.

“Professor, as a concerned student-“ She began with persuasion. “I think you should select a more prepared, even a more eloquent partner. Everybody heard what Parkinson said, she’s practically been dancing her whole life-“

He silenced her with a deathly glare that commanded her up to her feet. She let out an exhausting sigh as the loud sniggers were heard around the room as she approached the professor. Embarrassed she rubbed her arm standing next to the Potions Master feeling both extremely awkward and small standing next to him with all eyes fixed on the two of them.

“As I said. If an unskillful, inelegant person like Saintday can be taught to dance, so can anybody in this room.”

‘Geez, alright, take it easy with the compliments,’ she thought resenting his comments. Again, the majority of the room laughed. This was humiliating.

“Silence,” Snape snapped his loud voice echoing the newly found silence in the room. “The House of Salazar Slytherin has commanded the respect of the Wizard World for nearly a millennium and I will not have you sullying that name in the course of a single evening.” He paused before stretching out a pale hand. “Ms. Saintday,” he bowed his head slightly.

The quiet laughing in the room made her cringe as she took the professor’s hand.

Xxx

That had been absolutely mortifying.

“I’m never going to let you live that down!” Theodore laughed loudly as they excited the Assembly Room. The four Slytherins walked together as they exited the room and the Gryffindors went in.

“Even if you deny it I know you’re one of Snape’s favorites. Private lessons with him and now a personal ballroom lesson?” He teased in reference of the private meetings Saintday had with the professor in order to improve the weak control she had over her volatile emotions.

“I will kill you,” She cursed. Laughing, Theo excused himself and said he was going to catch up on some Transfigurations homework.

“My dress should be arriving soon,” They overheard a loud voice bragging as the three girls attempted to walk away from its source. “It’s made out of the only the finest silk. Imported. Cost a fortune. Initially daddy opposed but once mother convinced him I just had to have it – well he caved. Obviously, his little girl has to have the best of the best. Wouldn’t you agree Daphne?”

“I’m excited to see your dress!” Daphne responded unaffectedly. Above all things came art, beauty, design and fashion.

“I might be the best dressed, of course after you,” Pansy added eyeing Daphne with some resentful bitterness. She turned to look at Millicent hoping her best friend would have her back, but instead she seemed distraught, probably also distressed about what she’d wear to the dance or who her date would be.

“I’ll say,” Pansy cleared her throat. “I can’t wait to see what rags you pull out of the rubbish bin Saintday. That is if you even manage to get a date for the ball. With that disgraceful footwork and graceless poise, I doubt it,” She laughed obnoxiously with her friend.

Nel was ready to lunge at her Tracey and Daphne held her back. “Shut up Parkinson nobody cares about you or your stupid dress you irrelevant twit!”  She shouted at her. Pansy gasped and began rambling about who was really relevant and who wasn’t.  

“Don’t listen to her Nel,” Daphne said looking over her shoulder as they walked away from the other two Slytherins and descended into the dungeon. “She’s just looking to get a reaction out of you.”

The irritated Slytherin was about to respond went something vibrantly orange phased through her a loud cackling laughter followed. Oh no.

“Oi there, if it isn’t Slytherin’s Spotted Cod,” He levitated before the three girls with a broad Cheshire grin that meant the poltergeist was – as per usual - up to no good.

“Spotted… Cod?” Tracey repeated the nickname with confusion. Nel gave her a look not to ask.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten Dots,” Peeves leaned in dangerously close looking at her eye to eye. Of course, Nel knew what he was referring to. He was referring to that time he showed her the secret passageway out of the Defense Against the Dark Art’s Office. She had been hoping he had forgotten but of course, Peeves never forgets.

“You know Peeves, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” She said running a hand through her hair nervously.

His ghastly face instantly shifted to a scowl. “We had a deal,” He growled out becoming more agitated.

“I don’t have time for this,” She admitted sincerely. She really didn’t. In between her work, lessons with Snape, helping Cedric with the tasks, finding a dress and somehow convincing Ellar to ask her to be his date for the Yule Ball, Nel really had her hands full. For once she just wanted to have a perfectly ordinary night. She tried to sidestep the ghost, her two friends following behind, but Peeves once again phased through her.

“You owe me!” He shrieked loudly as the poltergeist began throwing a terrible tantrum. The pipes in the ceiling above them burst soaking them. Some of the armor figures in the dungeon all bent in unnatural ways and cold water rained down on them. Daphne spit out a mouthful of water and glared at the poltergeist with great distaste.

“Alright,” Nel ceded to her side of the bargain. “Alright,” She raised her hands in a truce. “You got me. I’ll do as you wish,” she let out a frustrated breath.

“You know what to do!” he cackled manically before backflipping out of scene. She rubbed her temples in great frustration at what she would have to do. Daphne and Tracey didn’t seem to question his motives. Both simply stood very still.

“Is this water…” Tracey spoke after a moment. “Clean?” She wondered out loud.

“I don’t want to know,” Daphne pivoted on her heel as she rushed inside of the Common Room sounding almost as if she was going to vomit. “Same,” The brunette followed with repulsion.  

Xxx

After a rather disgusting Saturday morning Daphne and Nel decided to head to Hogsmeade for the day to go dress shopping. Tracey had excused herself with a blatant lie that neither of the two bothered calling out. Daphne already knew what she was wearing to the ball. She actually had a tailor personally make it for her over the summer holiday and she was praying it still fit her. Being a good friend, she offered to go dress shopping with Nel for fun... Nel doubted that Cloelia would bother in sending her an outfit, let alone a fine dress for the ball, but then again who knew maybe if Ellar was her date?

“Do you think he’s going to ask you?” Daphne asked in the carriage to Hogsmeade. “I don’t know,” The other girl babbled with excitement.

“I mean- we have been talking a little more and more each time, the other day he held my hand in the Great Hall.”

“Really?” Daphne enthused back with the same enthusiasm  

“Well, kind of- it was more of a pat,” She admitted the reality. “But- never say never, right?” She laughed lightly as they arrived at the Wizard village.

Distraught looking at the snow that was beginning to fall Daphne pulled Nell out of her daydream. “Look!” She hissed in a loud whisper. “There he is!” She discretely pointed at the wizard whom the two had just been talking about. Speak of the Devil…

Ellar was wearing a dark blue coat and appeared to be window shopping for something outside of Zonko’s. He was with some of his Beauxbaton school mates who were all laughing at a particular prank toy.

“Go talk to him!” She urged her friend nudging her forward.

“Are you nuts?” The other shot back looking down at the gray jumper she was wearing and dark jeans. Definitely not as presentable as she wished she’d be.

“I can’t talk to him now – He’ll think I’m asking him to the dance!”

“That’s the point!” Daphne struggled as she snaked her arm under her friend’s and dragged her forward the two bickering back and forth until they stood in front of the group of French students. “Just smile!” She advised with a sharp hiss through her clenched teeth.

“Bonjour,” Daphne greeted politely in poor French. Although Nel doubted any of them even heard or listened, most were probably distracted by her smile and glowing cheeks.

“H-Hi Ellar,” Nel stammered not even remembering to greet him in the French she had been practicing so hard to impress him.

“Daphne, is it?” Ellar greeted taking her hand in his and leaning in to kiss her face three times on each side like the French did. “Elowen,” He turned his attention to her and did the same.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“We came dress shopping. You know, for the Yule Ball,” She edged on the topic anxiously. Dancing on the heels of her feet, lightly swaying forward hoping he’d take the initiative to ask her.

“I see,” He acknowledged and wiped the edge of his nose. “I’m sure you’ll look very beautiful,” His lips stretched into a thin smile. “The both of you,” He added also acknowledging Daphne. With that he bid them goodbye before walking into Zonko’s with his friends.

Daphne brought a hand to her temple when she saw her friend literally pressing her face against the window shop’s glass starring at the back of the French boy’s dark wavy-haired head.

“Ugh..” She groaned out painfully. “Why didn’t he ask me?” She cried out dramatically.

Daphne rolled her eyes and peeled her desperate looking friend off the glass. “Maybe it wasn’t obvious enough.”

“I think it was pretty,” she touched the tip of her nose. “On spot.”

“Just ask him yourself next time you see him,” Daphne advised.

“But I want him to ask me. Not the other way around!” Nel cried back childishly. Daphne tried to convince her it wasn’t a big deal if she did the asking. Easy for her to say. Everybody would probably be dying to go to the ball with the prettiest Slytherin.

Again, Daphne shook her head as the two walked into a large pink and teal shop that was named Gladrags Wizardwear “245 years dressing the Elegant Wizard” a sign outside of the shop read.

“What about this one?” Daphne immediately rushed to a beautifully sleek plum colored dress evening gown. Nel almost had a heart attack when looking at the price tag. “How about we look in the discount section?” She coughed awkwardly already feeling her wallet stinging from the unnecessary expense of wearing a dress.

“Nel,” Daphne held onto her hand, stopping her in the spot and giving her a knowing look. “This is a once in a lifetime event. We are never going to live another Yule Ball,” She said melodramatically sounding as if it was a life or death situation. “I know you’re careful with your spending, but don’t you for once want to treat yourself?” She insisted.

Elowen didn’t want to look into her persuasive grey green eyes. She knew that if she did, she would cave. Daphne wasn’t wrong, she had been hoarding her savings like a dragon sitting atop a small fortune. But then again, she had been very careless about it even losing some of it to Malfoy in stupid and unnecessary bets. Maybe, just maybe Daphne was right, and she deserved to allow herself one nice treat.

“Don’t you want to feel like a dream? Have all eyes on you for one magical night?”

It was too tempting. Her greedy eyes looked at the expensive dresses in the shop and she wondered just how easy yet unnecessary it would be to swipe one of them or trade the tag with something in clearance. She didn’t want to be the only girl wearing a uniform at the ball. Specially not if she was planning on attending with Ellar Lestrange. The young man would probably show up looking like a dreamy prince from a faraway land and she would look- well… Like what she really was – a nobody.

She couldn’t help but think of Pansy’s cruel taunts and her and Millicent’s loud laughter. Insecurity also pricking at her side to buy the damn dress.

“Just imagine,” Daphne continued to press. “You, Ellar, the night… It’ll be like a fairy-tale!”

Daphne painted a very tempting image of what the night would be like. Magical.

She was right. She had to do it. This was completely a necessary expense. She was going to dazzle not just Ellar Lestrange, but everybody that ever looked down at her during this night. Even Parkinson and Bullstrode.

“Let’s do it,” She quickly caved before she changed her mind. “Really?” Daphne’s eyes went wide and she squeezed her friend’s hand tightly as she jumped squealing eager to begin shopping before beginning to ramble about the jewelry, she would lend her and how they were going to do their hair and make-up and shoes- of course you couldn’t forget the shoes.

Xxx

Nel’s head was still spinning from having spent such an unreal amount of money on a dress she would probably only wear once. The girls had returned to the Common Room where they left the dress before Daphne asked her to come to the Courtyard with her to paint since Theodore and Tracey were nowhere to be found.

“Let me get this straight,” Nel said sounding terribly bored as she stood next to Daphne holding a tray of acrylic paints as the girl painted a canvas with the school’s Courtyard. “You’re painting what exactly? Haven’t you painted the same Courtyard at least a dozen times before?”

Daphne looked at her as if she was insane. “Well,” She began her artistic digest. “It’s never really the same is it? No matter how many times I paint it my mood is never the same, the light is never the same. It’s always a different season or a different perspective. Even if to you it’s the same dull courtyard it never is to me. In a way life can be like that too. Like the way a day is always different from the night before or the day to come, or the way two thumbprints or even two loves are never really the same.”  Daphne got a dreamy look on her face before realizing she had perhaps gotten too carried away in her passionate artistic declaration. Regardless she didn’t apologize for her boldness. Nel starred at her friend in awe and her eyes scanned the same Courtyard she had been in hundreds of times before. Daphne was… well, right. She had never taken the time to romanticize her day in such a manner, but then again who did?

“Like- take a look, what looks different?” She encouraged.

“The First-Years are playing gobstones by the entrance, Diggory is out of the Hospital surrounded a lot of Hufflepuffs – typical. Malfoy is climbing up the courtyard’s tree-“ Her eyes narrowed on the silvery blonde that was suspiciously climbing up that tree he had been up in a couple of weeks ago. However, she found it odd that he was alone.

“That’s weird,” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as he appeared to be carving something into its bark.

Putting the paints on a tall stool next to her friend she approached the tree with a mistrustful attitude. Daphne smiled a little and shook her head. No day was the same as the last. Who knew, maybe today she’d paint the ancient tree being set on fire by Nel Saintday.

Autumn leaves crunched under her feet as she approached the oak tree. Upon closer inspection she saw Draco up on the tree eating a green apple with one hand and indeed carving something into the bark with his wand in his right hand.

“I didn’t take you as a vandal,” She said loudly startling him so much he almost fell down “Then again, why would I be surprised?” “Stars, Saintday, don’t sneak up on me!” He snapped rudely before hopping down with a crouch before gracefully dusting any invisible dirt off himself.  

“Why are you vandalizing the tree?” She asked her newest friend. If that’s what they were.

“Why are you sneaking up on me?” He shot back defensively crossing his arms over his chest. “Geez, I was just making conversation,” She raised her eyebrows before walking away from the hostile Slytherin. “I figured bothering you would be more entertaining than watching Daphne paint.”

“So, Greengrass and Nott. I take it they’re going to the Yule Ball together,” He commented changing the topic.

“Yeah,” Nel scratched her cheek. “Seems like it.”

They hadn’t really talked about it but judging by how close the two seemed it made sense.

“And Davis?” He walked towards her, the way he seemed to swagger pompously as he took another bite from his apple. Nel shrugged in a disinterested response. Sad that she had no clue who her best friend intended on attending to the dance with.  

“And you?”

She gave him a blank look before shrugging in an exaggerated manner. She wanted to go with Ellar Lestrange. She wanted him to ask her, but as of now nothing was official. “How on bloody hell am I supposed to know? They just told us about the stupid dance today,” this time she was the one who raised her guard at the invasive question. He probably wanted to make fun of her just like Pansy had earlier in the day.

“Wouldn’t put it past you to take Professor Snape. You two really swept the dance floor today,” he laughed at the dance lesson they had had earlier that day.

Alright. This conversation was over. Glowering, Nel turned around to return to Daphne. She wasn’t going to stand there just so he could take jabs and make fun of her all afternoon long.

“I’ve got a proposition for you Saintday,” He called as he continued to enjoy himself.  

“I’m not playing any more games with you Malfoy,” She called over her shoulder as she began to walk away from him. “You always cheat.”

That wasn’t a complete lie. The boy had known he would befriend Viktor Krum at the World Cup before he gambled that they would sit together. Last time when gambling during the First Task, well, that had just been sheer dumb luck. Although she wouldn’t put it past him to fix the game in some type of way.

“Come on, I’m offering you a chance to redeem yourself and make up for your loses,” he dangled the offer. It sounded like the kind of thing gambling addicts told themselves. What was one more bet. One more shot to make up for what had been lost. She had already lost some money to him and spent a ridiculous sum of money on a dress. Maybe it wouldn’t have seemed like a lot to him, but Nel cherished every knut and galleon that she worked for. Unlike him, allowing money to slip through her fingers and down the drain wasn’t a luxury she could afford to have.

“How about this,” He proposed sinking a hand into his pocket almost as if he was hiding something. The other still held half an eaten apple, he appeared to be thoughtfully chewing it when he spotted Cedric Diggory across the Courtyard surrounded by other Hufflepuffs.

“I bet you don’t have it in you to ask Diggory to be your escort to the Yule Ball.” She looked at him incredulously. “I’ll give you five, no ten galleons if you do it.”

Alright, so it wasn’t a gamble. It was more of a dare than a bet.

Her eyes turned to also look at the Hogwarts’ Champion who was enjoying his day out. She contemplated the dare for a moment. Malfoy didn’t know her, and Cedric were well acquainted. She could use this to her advantage just like he had previously done with Krum. She had to laugh at his ridiculous offer, “And why would I do that for five- no, ten galleons?” Odds were that Cedric would most likely say no. But the gamble wasn’t if he said yes or no, it was if she dared put herself through that.

“If you’re lucky and he says yes, you get to go with Hogwarts’ second best.”

“Second best?” She laughed. If anything, Cedric was Hogwarts most eligible date to the Yule Ball. She could’ve bet that at least a dozen of girls had asked him already.

“However, if he says no,” He leaned in closer and carelessly tossed his unfinished green apple over his shoulder. “You’ll just have to settle for the best of the best,” he flashed her a self-important smile. “Who then? Krum?” She asked genuinely curious not aware she was she taking a stab at his swollen ego.

“Me. Saintday. I’m talking about me,” He said in an annoyed tone when he realized she wasn’t well aware he was Hogwarts finest. “Obviously.”

She gave him a funny look. There was no way. An unexpected feeling of nervousness flooded her stomach. She let out a edgy laugh completely taken aback by what he was suggesting. “Are you asking me to the Yule Ball?”

He stood awkwardly and let out a weak laugh and a dramatic scoff.

“All I’m saying is, to make up for your rejection, I’ll put myself through the martyrdom of escorting you to the ball,” He combed a hand though his hair. “I mean, since no one else will,” he just had to add with snide.

Of course, he was going to be a rude arse, even about this. She shot him a foul look and hit his arm harder than she intended to. As if she couldn’t find a date to the ball. “How gracious of you,” She drawled out sarcastically. “I didn’t know the great Draco Malfoy could be so generous with his time.”

She looked at him hard, with a cross look, “If you’re asking me just say so,” she dared him.

“I’m not,“ he spoke quickly in a defensive tone. She took a moment sizing him up and just what his true intentions were. Why couldn’t he just bloody admit it if he was asking her to the Ball?

“Make it twenty and you’ve got yourself a deal,” She stretched out a hand. “Deal,” Both shook on it. “And no-“ She pulled him in still holding onto his hand tightly. “I am not going to the Yule Ball with you.

With that she marched towards Cedric and the other Hufflepuff Sixth and Seventh Years. She stood before them putting on a brave face and combing her hair back as she appeared to be more confident.

Nel didn’t even want to go to the Yule Ball with Diggory or with Malfoy. Her narrow tunnel vision made her obsess over the Beauxbaton student. She had a feeling that Cedric would say no and then she would just take Malfoy’s money, blow him off and be twenty galleons richer. Who did the slimy git think he was? His words stung her just like Pansy’s had earlier ‘if you even manage to get a date for the ball.’ Maybe she wasn’t the most popular girl in school, or the most pleasant person in Slytherin House but she still wanted to be asked to go to the dance.

“Diggory,” She cleared her throat. “A word,” She pulled at her sweater’s neck hoping he wouldn’t note how bright her ears were.  

His friends all hooted and howl at the request already expecting Elowen to be another girl shooting her shot at going to the ball with Cedric. Nearby bystanders ogled as the two walked to an empty spot in the courtyard. Even Daphne watched from a distance wondering just what had happened since her friend left her side.

Draco watched from underneath the oak tree’s comfortable shade with a smug smirk on his face. There was absolutely no way that Diggory would ever agree to go to the Yule Ball with Elowen. Of course, he had perfectly calculated the outcome of this gamble as he usually did.

He saw her say something to Cedric, her lips moving and body language shifting uncomfortably as she dropped the bomb. Diggory was silent for a moment before speaking.

With that the two walked away from each other.

Elowen walked back with flushed cheeks and her eyes wide in surprise. Draco couldn’t tell if the source of the color was from anger or embarrassment.

“I demand my twenty galleons,” She stuck a handout and looked at him angrily. Still wearing a smug smile Draco pulled out a coin pouch and handed it to her. “We’ll have a good time,” he said genuinely looking forward to the ball.

Eyes turned into slits she almost tossed the velvet coin purse back at him. She didn’t want to go to the ball with him, or with Cedric or with anybody else. This whole thing had been a stupid idea. One that wasn’t even worth twenty galleons.

Malfoy’s plan went down the drain with three simple words: “He said yes.” She said upset.

“You don’t look too happy about it,” He said dryly nothing how disappointed she seemed at the news.

“Of course not!” She snapped. “I didn’t want to go with him or with you! And now I have to go with him!” She screamed. “This is all your fault!” She accused him before retreating back to the inside of the castle. “And for the record!” She stood before again turning to give her a piece of her mind. “I don’t need you to be my pity date. I can get a date whenever I want and with whomever I want. If today wasn’t proof enough for you!” She spat angrily before finally leaving.

Draco tossed his head back and his hid face for a frustrated moment. How could he have majorly messed this up?

AN: *evil laughter*

[cruelfeline]

Another one of those “Catra didn’t abuse Hordak; he abused her, and it was terrible!” posts crossed my dash today, and it got me thinking again. About something I haven’t seen elaborated upon before. At least not recently.

This isn’t going to be about whether Hordak ruined Catra, or whether Catra manipulated Hordak (that’s this masterpost right here!). They both harmed one another, obviously, and I’m not going to go into who was the “more evil” of the two.

What I am going to go into is a bit of a breakdown of why Hordak treated Catra as he did. Not specifically why he used certain punishments (hint: it’s because he has nearly no positive social skills because have you seen Horde Prime?), but whether or not he should have been more supportive/trusting of her in seasons two and three. Obviously not four, because yikes, but should he have been more willing to accept her as a trusted subordinate?

Short answer: No.

Long answer: strap in, friends and neighbors. We’re gonna look at why Catra was a poor investment from the get-go. But first, a disclaimer!

I am in no way condoning the sorts of punishments Hordak inflicted upon Catra. Asphyxiation and Shipment off to Beast Island are not CF-approved methods of behavior modification. Got it? Good. Now, to business.

The chief reason I feel that Hordak was right in not trusting Catra, despite her efforts at serving him, is because said efforts weren’t honest. And like, I know that sounds sort of cheesy, given that we’re dealing with Hordak here, but hear me out. 

When Catra pledges her loyalty to Hordak, she’s lying. Mind you, she might be lying to herself as much as she is to him (meaning that she might temporarily believe in her own conviction), but that doesn’t change the fact that she is never truly loyal to him. Her goals are never really his goals. She’s not like Entrapta, invested in his interests, actually bonding with him in any way. She has no true allegiance to him beyond using him, and his trust, to “beat” Shadow Weaver and Adora. And while I’m not certain Hordak knows enough about her personally to understand the emotional reasons, I do think that he recognizes her as someone who is trying to climb rank for personal goals. Unlike Entrapta, who cares nothing for rank and is always genuine. 

Catra’s personal goals resulting in damaging decisions is readily apparent in her little mini-arc with Shadow Weaver during season two. Hordak orders her to send Shadow Weaver to Beast Island because Shadow Weaver is legitimately dangerous. She has knowledge of the Horde. She has knowledge of sorcery. Hordak is making a sound, if admittedly cruel, tactical decision to kill her because she represents a severe danger to him and the Horde at large. Instead of accepting this sound logic, Catra keeps Shadow Weaver alive because of her own emotional connections to her. 

Now, I’m not blaming Catra for this in a moral sense, really, because I know the painful reason she does this, but pragmatically, this is a horrible decision. Shadow Weaver does escape. And she does spill Horde secrets to the Rebellion. And she lets the Rebellion in on one of the most devastating attacks the Horde endures besides what happens in season four. 

Hordak is right. He’s not nice about it, and he’s definitely not gentle in his reactions, but he is absolutely right about what should have been done regarding Shadow Weaver from the beginning. 

Add to this glaring error the fact that Catra lies to him about it. How is he to work with a second-in-command that makes terrible decisions, against orders, according to her own personal goals, and then tries to cover it up? It’s just not wise for him to truly trust her.

Also: when he does actually trust her, fueled by his own issues with self-worth and her manipulative lies, she leads him down an incredibly self-destructive path. She sentences his one true friend to death. She never truly focuses on supporting his plans or supporting him, instead providing stability only as long as it benefits her. Once her deception is revealed, she turns on him violently. To save her own life, yes, but that life wouldn’t need saving if she hadn’t essentially killed Entrapta to get her little victory over Adora.

And yes, yes, Hordak is evil, and his plans shouldn’t be bolstered, but that doesn’t change the fact that, to him, Catra is dangerous. Though supporting him didn’t have to just include supporting the warfare; supporting him could have included supporting Entrapta, who helped him with his illness and his true personal goals.

Now, add to all of this the fact that she can physically kill him at any time, and I feel that it’s pretty apparent that him giving her legitimate trust was a Bad Idea.

But CF, you might say, CF, what if he was nicer to her? What if he hadn’t endangered her with his temper, been a Good Boss instead of choking her or trying to send her to Beast Island? 

Well, dear reader, maybe she would have been a safer subordinate to him, then. Maybe. But remember what she did to Entrapta. Remember what she did to Scorpia, who only loved her and never, ever hurt her. Remember that Catra, in her pain, lashed out and hurt every one of her friends. Badly.

Given that fact, I still don’t think she would have been a safe bet for Hordak. I mean, she wasn’t, in the end, was she? He actually did give her legitimate trust in season four, and... well. We all saw what happened.

So! In conclusion: this idea that Hordak somehow wronged Catra by not giving her the trust and praise that she deserved is silly. He didn’t give these things to her, in seasons two and three, for valid reasons pertaining to her actual bad decisions and lack of trustworthiness. He wasn’t being petty, or cruel, or manipulative. He was acting on sound logic. 

Shame he failed to continue with that logic in season four; it might have protected him, but we all know why things ended as they did.

[winterisakillerwrites]

Little Changes

Title: Little Changes

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Allie Thompson (OFC)

Genre: romance/angst

Rating: G

Summary:  Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

Authors Notes/Warnings: This was written for @redfoxwritesstuff 500 follower writing challenge. My prompt was “I’m pregnant.” I set out initially thinking I’d run this prompt with Tom and Cath from Brave Face but the more I thought on it, the more I realized it would be the perfect opportunity to revisit Tom and Allie from my fic for @babylevines 4k challenge Perfectly Imperfect. I always intended on coming back to these two and this challenge felt like the perfect opportunity. A great big shout out to @nonsensicalobsessions who was my second set of eyes on this fic and my sounding board. You’ve been such an amazing help and I cannot thank you enough!

Allie Thompson felt the strap of her carryon bag dig into the palm of her hand as she let her eyes roam over the customs hall at JFK. The large room was filled nearly to the brim with tired, bored, and antsy people, all waiting in a queue that seemed never ending. She cursed herself yet again for not buying a rolling carryon. Never thought you’d need it, did you, Thompson?

The trip had been impulsive. Stupidly, recklessly impulsive. Allie had to keep reassuring herself that she was only taking up Tom’s offer to have her come and see him (and the city). In the nearly two months since he’d come New York he’d tried everything he could seemingly think of to convince Allie to throw caution to the wind and stay with him, if only for a short while. And each and every time she’d turned him down. Not out of a lack of desire (she missed him far more than she was willing to admit to anyone least of all herself), but for various (and frustratingly valid as far as she was concerned) reasons. The office was short staffed, she’d just gotten a promotion at work and asking for the time off wouldn’t reflect well on her next appraisal, the flight was more than she could afford at the time (despite saving up what she could out of each pay).

Tom had offered, repeatedly, to let him pay her airfare and each time Allie told him she couldn’t accept. It was pride more than anything which kept her from doing so, they both knew it, but more than that, she didn’t feel right having him spend money on her. Not that much. Not when she couldn’t repay him for such generosity. It didn’t feel right, taking his money no matter how freely he seemed to offer it. Allie knew that Tom suspected that was a large part of her refusal and hadn’t fought her on it. At least not as much as she knew he wanted to; she could hear it plainly in his voice each time they spoke.

Now here she was, standing in this stupidly long queue wondering for the thousandth time if she was making a horrid mistake in coming. Her back twinged irritatingly and she rocked herself back and forth on the balls of her feet hoping to ease some of the tension. Why hadn’t she thought to throw her heating pad into her bag before she’d left? Thank god she hadn’t gotten sick on the plane; the frequent nausea and vomiting that had taken over her life in the last few weeks had been bad enough in the privacy of her flat or the toilets at work. On a speeding metal tube in what felt like a coffin…The idea didn’t bear thinking.

Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

The next thing she’d done once the shock and panic had worn off was call the local family clinic and book an appointment for bloodwork and the necessary testing. Before she brought Tom’s world to a halt, she had to be certain it wasn’t a fluke. They’d been able to fit her in the following day, for which she’d been grateful. Her manager had let her have the morning off after commenting she’d looked a bit peaky regardless.

Sitting on the crinkled paper that covered the cushioned exam table, Allie felt her stomach roil. She’d only half listened to the information the doctor discussed with her; taking in that she was indeed pregnant and a little over three months gone. She’d taken the paper the doctor had handed her along with the packet of vitamins with shaking hands. This was real. It was happening and even with the paperwork in hand Allie still couldn’t make sense of it.

With an air of calm which she didn’t fully feel, Allie had made her way home and grabbed the luggage she’d bought for a holiday she’d taken with friends years back and packed the first pieces of clothing her hands touched. She wasn’t sure when she’d made the conscious decision to tell him in person (this wasn’t something she felt could be done over the phone no matter how she feared the potential outcome) but somewhere between her leaving the clinic and walking up the stairs to her flat, she’d known.  

The phone call to Luke hadn’t been as awkward as she’d feared. They’d met a few times and had gotten on well enough. He’d been quite up front with her about the realities of being in a relationship with someone like Tom and made sure she understood more or less what she was potentially getting herself into. With the same breath he welcomed her to the madness. She found she liked his frankness and how he clearly cared for Tom not just as a client but as a friend. Luke had been all too eager to help her arrange her impromptu trip, making sure Tom’s people in New York were aware of her pending arrival. She’d asked him to make sure Tom didn’t know she was coming. Luke had laughed, “This is going to be such a fantastic surprise for him, you don’t want to know how much he’s been whinging about missing you.”

Allie had laughed along with Luke, ignoring the twisting in her gut. It would certainly be a surprise but she hadn’t a clue if either Tom or Luke (when push came to shove, Luke would need to be told and that was nearly as terrifying as telling Tom) would consider it a good one. Pushing those thoughts aside she’d booked a nonstop flight from Heathrow to JFK and cleared the week she’d need with her boss (which hadn’t been the most pleasant conversation).

The flight had thankfully been uneventful though she’d hardly slept the entire way. And not for lack of trying. Her mind wouldn’t seem to shut off, playing over and over again the various (and most often unpleasant) reaction awaiting her in New York. The lack of sleep was something she was most certainly paying for now. God, what she wouldn’t give for a hot shower and sleep. But that she feared would not be for a long while yet.

What felt like hours later, Allie found herself at the front of the queue handing her passport to the stony-faced customs agent and answering the questions asked of her. Who was she here to see? Her boyfriend (the word still felt odd) who was working in the States. How long would she be staying? Maybe a week. She waited with baited breath as the agent looked first at her, then at the passport before stamping it and handing it back to her with a monotone,  “Welcome to New York.”

Stamped passport in hand, she made her way towards the baggage claim. Once she’d grabbed her rolling case (and made a mad dash for the nearest toilet, the nausea had decided now would be a spectacular time to make its reappearance. Thank god she’d kept the amenity kit in her purse so she could clean her teeth after), Allie made her way into the arrivals hall proper and scanned the crowd. Luke had insisted on setting up transport from the airport to Tom’s temporary dwelling and despite a string of protests refused to budge on the issue. The man was just as, if not more, stubborn than Tom and fighting him on anything was nothing short of an exercise in futility.

She spotted a tall man dressed in a pair dark trousers, matching jacket, and white button-up shirt holding a sign bearing her name standing towards the back of the waiting crowd. He smiled politely at her as she approached and offered to take her bags. Allie thought for a moment of protesting but banished the thought almost at once. The man (whose name was Frank, she’d learned later) was simply doing his job and she had no right to make it difficult for him to do so (even if she was quiet capable of wrangling her own baggage). Quietly, the pair made their way from the noisy hall and out into the bright sunlight of the afternoon. She was ushered into the waiting black SUV as Frank took her luggage round the back and placed it in the boot.

The car was quite nice, Allie noted with a tired sigh as she settled herself onto the supple leather of the backseat. Far nicer than the battered Nissan Micra she had back home; a holdover from her university days that she’s scrimped and saved for. It wasn’t much to look at but it was reliable and that was honestly all that mattered. She hardly used it anyhow, mainly just when she left the city to visit family or simply escape from the hustle and bustle of it all. She rested her head back against the smooth headrest and allowed her eyes to flutter closed. God, she was tired. Just a few moments, she told herself. I’ll just rest my eyes for a few moments.

Allie jolted awake at the feel of a hand on her shoulder. Blinking in confusion, she let her gaze roam over her surroundings; the dimly lit interior of an SUV and the sounds of a city echoing from its opened door. New York, her brain finally chimed in. I’m in New York. Tom. And just like that she was suddenly awake. The familiar nerves roared to life once more as just why she’d come flooded back into her conscious thoughts.

“Sorry,” she murmured to Frank who’d gotten out of the car and come around to wake her. “I must have dozed off.”

“It’s fine,” he answered with a knowing smile, “You looked like you needed it.”

Allie nodded quietly and slid from the backseat out onto the pavement. Her eyes drifted upwards, taking in the buildings surrounding them. She’d seen New York countless times in films and on television but it was quite odd actually being there. The building they’d parked beside was massively tall, covered in faded tan brick, painted brick she noted on closer inspection. The glass door reflected the bright sunlight, obscuring her view inside. Smiling softly, she took the handle of her bag, which Frank had placed beside her and took a deep breath before following him inside.

She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the lobby. The wheels of her checked bag echoed as they rolled across the tiled floor towards the lifts at the far end of the hall. The wall beside the door lined with several metal letter boxes each labeled with what Allie assumed were flat numbers. She’d known from her various calls with Tom that rather than staying in a hotel for the duration of the play, he’d opted at renting a furnished flat in a building close enough to the theater to be walkable but far enough away that it hopefully would be off of most enthusiastic fans radars. While a hotel would be more convenient in terms of cleaning and meals (there was certainly something to be said about room service, he’d confessed), having his own space and privacy won out. And she was eternally grateful for that now. Especially if things ended badly. Less prying eyes and whispered voices in a private dwelling. More of a chance she could make a quiet, dignified retreat if needed.

Shaking the negative thoughts away, Allie followed Frank into the lift. They arrived on the tenth floor moments later and she allowed him to lead the way towards a darkly stained wooden door at the end of the hall. Frank pulled a key from his pocket and made swift work of the lock, pushing the door open. Sunlight poured in through the opened curtains, flooding the flat with bright light. He stood aside to let her enter, handing her the key as she passed.

“This is yours for the time being. He should be back sometime in the next hour or so. Make yourself at home.” He smiled and took his leave.

Allie closed the door firmly behind him, locked it, and leant back against it, taking a deep breath. She was here and now all she could do was wait for his return. With effort, she pushed herself up and allowed herself to glance around the flat’s open planned living room stroke kitchen. It was minimally, but comfortably, furnished with richly stained wooden tables and an inviting black fabric couch. Books lined the coffee and side tables and pendant lighting hung down from the ceiling. The room wasn’t terribly tidy; there were a pair of trainers laying haphazardly on their side near the short hallway which she assumed led on to the sleeping area and bathroom and various bits and bobs scattered over the backs of chairs. Several toys she recognized as Bobby’s lay strewn across the wooden floor.

The kitchen was small, but functional. Bright white uppers paired with darker base cabinets and a neutral stone countertop. There was a stainless steel gas range with a matching microwave above and a large fridge beside it. The sink was deep and stainless steel as well. A coffee press and toaster were arranged against the back of the counter alongside a small electric kettle. Allie chuckled softly to herself as her eyes lingered on the bowl and mug left sitting on the counter next to the sink.

Leaving her bags tucked beside the couch, Allie made her way into the kitchen and set to tidying up. It was silly, and something she knew she absolutely did not need to do, but it gave her something to do with her hands and seemed to quiet the small, nagging voice of doubt in her head. She cleaned when she felt anxious or uneasy; Allie couldn’t say why other than it gave her something she could have control over. Tom seemed to find it amusing, stating he knew when something was up by how spotless her place was…And sometimes by how spotless his was.

Allie let out a quiet groan; Tom would know in an instant something wasn’t quite right, even through the shock of her surprise arrival. Even distracted, Tom was sharp when it came to detail. It was part of what made him so damned good at his chosen field. However, there was nothing to do for it now. Setting to work, Allie grabbed the plate and mug, placing them in the sink and turning on the hot tap. She had to rummage to find the washing up liquid and a sponge; how it had managed to get wedged in the very back of the cupboard under the sink she’d never understand. From there she let herself get lost in the heat of the water and the repetitiveness of the task.

Once the dishes were cleaned and put away, she forced herself to walk back into the living room and settle on the couch. Ignoring the temptation to straighten, if only for its ability to help her keep hold of her nerves, Allie forced herself instead to pick up the remote from the top off the darkly stained wooden coffee table and turn on the television. There wasn’t a great deal to choose from, which wasn’t surprising given it was early afternoon in the middle of the week, a handful of daytime chat shows and several daytime dramas. Sighing, she settled on one of the chat shows not caring overmuch what was happening on screen. She half listened as the women settled around a table chatting about the latest bit of celebrity news, her eyes drifting shut once more. Gods above, she was tired.

The sound of a key turning in the lock jolted Allie awake. She sat bolt upright on the couch, blinking rapidly at the disorientation before, and quickly switched off the television, dropping the remote back onto the table. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the door. Through the thick wood she could hear Bobby’s muffled barks and the soothing timbre of Tom’s voice in response. She felt her heart hammering in her chest as she watched the knob turn and the door push slowly open.

A blur of brown swept into the apartment, loud barks echoing as the spaniel darted inside and towards Allie. He buried his face into her knees before bouncing up and attempting to bury her face in kisses.

Startled, Tom rushed in yelling, “What in the world…” His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on Allie laughing and squirming on the couch beneath an overly excited Bobby.

Pushing the spaniel off, Allie locked her eyes on Tom’s wide, startled gaze. “Hi,” she whispered, pushing her hair out of her face to see him clearly.

“You’re here,” Tom breathed, taking several slow steps into the flat, letting the door swing closed behind him. “You’re actually here.”

Allie nodded. “I’m here.”

Tom dropped the bag he’d been carrying on his shoulder to the floor and launched himself at her, a wide smile on his face. With a yelp of startlement, Allie fell backwards onto the couch, Tom’s warm weight pressing her firmly into the cushions. She let out a breathless laugh as she found herself wrapped tightly in his arms. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips. Bobby, who’d backed quickly out of the way as his master seemed to take leave of his senses, barked happily before jumping up beside them on the couch and licking both of their faces.

Pulling back and laughing, Tom shooed the spaniel away. “Enough you furry menace. Off the couch.”  

Bobby blinked up at Tom before complying with begrudging grace and padding to his own doggy bed. He grabbed the red, stuffed toy that lay beside the bed and chewed it while watching them with wide, sad eyes.

Tom shook his head, pulling himself up into a sitting position and turned his attention immediately back towards Allie who did the same. “I can’t believe you’re actually here. When did you…Why didn’t you say you were coming?”

Allie pulled back, feeling the familiar dread cooling once more in her stomach. She crossed her arms in front of her. “It was kind of a last minute thing,” she answered, honestly. “I called Luke and…”

Tom let out a short, loud laugh and shook his head. “No wonder the wanker looked so smug this morning…He knew you’d be here.”

She shrugged. “I asked him not to say anything.”

“And he certainly didn’t,” Tom laughed. “I hadn’t the faintest idea.” He pulled Allie tightly against him and kissed her head once more. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he repeated again and she could feel his smile against her hair. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

And she had, desperately. It felt wonderful, being in his arms again. The comforting heat and weight of him against her was like coming home. It scared her, just how much this man had come to mean to her in such a relatively short amount of time. And now…

Reluctantly, Allie pulled back reaching up to take Tom’s hands in her own. It was tempting, sorely tempting to say nothing…Just for a little while. To bask in the simple joy of being back with the man she loved. However, she knew it would only be delaying the inevitable. He needed to know, whatever the outcome. Any delaying techniques would be just that, it wouldn’t fix or change anything.

Tom met her eyes, confusion shining steadily in his own at her second disengagement in just as many minutes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Allie swallowed against the lump in her throat. She’d spent most of the flight over thinking of just what to say; how to tell him that in a few short months there would be another person in their lives. Over and over again, she had agonized over her wording, her timing, his reaction. All of it. And it wasn’t as if she feared he’d lose it completely and chuck her out, she’d known Tom well enough to understand he wouldn’t do something like that, but that didn’t mean he’d embrace the news with open arms.

The timing was terrible; he had projects lined up well into the following year. How could he possibly juggle the demands of impending fatherhood when he’d barely be around? How could she ask him to? They’d only been together seven months, and the last two of those there had been an ocean between them. There we so many reasons for this to be the thing that would sink them; Allie knew that. Having a baby didn’t guarantee a successful relationship or a relationship in general. Tom could very easily walk away, she didn’t think he would deny the child, but he could choose to minimize his presence in their lives. And while Allie knew she could, and would, handle raising this child on her own if she had to, it wasn’t ideal. She wanted Tom to be involved, to be beside her through it all. The ball was ever so firmly in his court with this and it terrified her.

“Allie,” Tom pleaded, reaching down to take her hand and squeezing her hands with his own. “Talk to me, please. Whatever it is we’ll mange it. Talk to me.”

He sounded so sure, so confident, and she wanted nothing more than to believe him. But the fear was still there, still clinging to her like a second skin.

She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes tightly before raising them to his once more. “I’m pregnant.”

The words fell from her lips in almost a whisper. Had it not been for the way his eyes widened at the words or his slackened grip, Allie could have convinced herself he hadn’t heard them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and fought the urge to stare down at them rather than at Tom.

“You’re pregnant?” Tom whispered, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. A silence, which felt as if it were choking the life from her. His words did little to calm the racing of her heart. The tone of them wasn’t censorious nor were they exactly welcoming. Unease and disappoint roared within her.  

Allie nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Pregnant,” he murmured again, as if he were trying to make sense of it. Another long pause before he uttered, “How far?”

Her eyes fell from his.

“A little over three months,” she answered, “according to the scans.” Her hand rested unconsciously against her abdomen and she could feel his eyes on her. She couldn’t raise her own to meet them. She didn’t want to see the disapproval or disappointment in them. Too soon. This is all too soon.

“So just before…” His voice trailed off.

The last few weeks before he’d headed to New York had been filled with stolen moments. At his place. At hers. There had been something to the idea that it could be months before she would get to touch him, to feel him, that had driven Allie (and Tom it seemed) to what felt like desperation. They’d been careful, or so she’d thought. Clearly they hadn’t been careful enough. She wondered idly just when they’d slipped up and if he was wondering as well.

Allie nodded. “Yes.”

Tom ran a hand through his shaggy hair but didn’t say anything further. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “The timing is horrendous, I know. And I get that it’s way too soon and neither of us are ready for this…” She was rambling and she knew it but the need to explain was overwhelming her ability to think and speak rationally. “You don’t have to be involved, I won’t think ill of you for not…”

Tom’s hand rested firmly on her knee, silencing her. He took a slow, deep breath before speaking. “Do you want this?”

She blinked at him, the words not making any sort of sense to her already sleep-starved, panicked mind. “Wha-what?” She stammered back, confusion coloring her tone, “I don’t know what…”

He squeezed her knee with a firm gentleness she hadn’t expected. “Having a baby is a big thing,” he started, his eyes locked on her face as if he were studying her. “It’s life changing. For you more than anything. Yes, the timing isn’t ideal for either of us. And I know that you’re scared of what I’m thinking and feeling. But Allie…I don’t want you to worry about what you think I want or what anyone else will say. This is, first and foremost, your life and as such it is your choice. I will respect whatever it is you want. So please tell me,” Tom locked his eyes on hers. “Allie, do you want this?”

A million different thoughts flooded through her mind. She was scared; scared she wasn’t ready, scared she’d be a crap mum, scared he’d walk away and she’d be left alone. But along with that fear was the small, bright, stubborn fragment of hope. She wanted this baby, wanted Tom to want it too. Even though this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Sense, it seemed, mattered not. She wanted this. Wanted it fiercely.

Wordlessly, she nodded.

Tom’s face split into a warm, bright smile and he reached out, placing his hand gently against the, as of yet, non-existent curve of her abdomen. “We’re having a baby.”

Allie laughed, feeling her eyes prickle with relieved tears. “We are.”

“Oh god,” Tom breathed, his voice breaking with soft laughter, “Luke is going to murder me.”

[bigherosixfeels]

Fred the Fugitive REVIEW

With our heroes still having to lay low, Fred has developed a serious case of night patrol fever. He attempts to fake multiple catastrophes, but to no avail. After Mini-Max sprays the tongue of his Fredmeleon suit so it won't get dry, Fred takes this as an opportunity to go on a secret night patrol to test it out. Despite the lack of logic, Mini-Max agrees to go with him. Once suited up, Fred teaches Mini-Max self-narration techniques. The duo travels through the city all while Fred uses his invisibility to stay hidden. Unfortunately, his suits' tongue gets caught on the end of a bus. This eventually results to him being catapulted in front of a Noodle Burger where a police officer happens to be eating. The two make a run for it and the entire police force goes after him.

In the meantime, Cass gets ready to go out to dinner with a "friend". It's actually a date with Chief Cruz who shows up at the Lucky Cat with Megan. The two avoid embarrassing heart rate diagnosis' from Baymax and head off the a fancy restaurant called The Waitlist. The two attempt to catch up, but Cruz gets a call from a police officer about Fred. He decides to take off and Cass assures him that she'll get Megan home safely.

Fred and Mini-Max try to outrun the police, but their luck only lasts for so long. They eventually get cornered in an alleyway where Mini-Max leaves, promising to return with help. Between Cass coming home and mentioning something about a "lizard guy" and Mini-Max showing up to report a catastrophe, the team suits up, staying hidden while Cruz and the police confront Fred. Cruz tries to get Fred to surrender, but he naturally refuses. Getting closer, Cruz attempts to unmask Fred, but ultimately fails due to the head being stuck as a part of a malfunction. Cruz decided to cut him out at the sation and begins to drag him out of the alley. Since they can't let that happen, Hiro and Baymax decide to keep the police busy while the others get Fred.

When Baymax makes himself noticed only to take off, Cruz ends up going off in a helicopter to chase him on his own. With the plan backfiring, the others jump into action, fighting the Buddy Guards. They end up successful in freeing Fred from a police vehicle and take off. However, Cruz is still on Hiro and Baymax's tail as they head into Muirahara Woods. Thankfully with Bessie being a monster bear now, tech isn't affected in the woods...unless Bessie hits them directly. It's a risk Hiro is willing to take. The two manage to fight off some Buddy Guards, but eventually encounter Bessie. The try to get away, but Bessie hits Baymax directly, causing him to crash and both their armors to stop working. Bessie gets distracted by the helicopter lights, directing beams at it. This leads to Cruz falling out of the helicopter.

After making sure Baymax stays hidden, Hiro is back in his regular clothes. Trying to avoid everything nature throws at him, he bumps into Cruz. It's not long before Bessie finds them and the two run away. They eventually fall into a puddle of mud which thrills Hiro since he now knows that mud can cover their scent. He convinces Cruz to trust him on this and following along, Bessie doesn't find them. Hiro tells Cruz that he's seen her before, but was nicer and wonders what could be bothering her. Cruz is impressed that Hiro isn't panicking, but frustrated because Big Hero 6 put them in this mess. Hiro asks why he hates the team and Cruz reveals his backstory; his father had been killed by a super villain when he was child and Boss Awesome came too late to save him.

Meanwhile, the police are chasing the nerd gang all through the city. They manage to get to the roof of an abandoned building. There, Fred admits he has a problem, but right now they need to focus on finding a way out of their situation. Acknowledging his mistakes, Fred volunteers to take the heat while the others slip out. Although the others are against this, Fred goes through with it, jumping off the roof. He's ready to make things right and be taken away...only for Mini-Max to fly in and fix his suit. Fred is able to turn invisible again!

Still being hunted by Bessie, Hiro and Cruz are laying low. Hiro is trying to convince Cruz that Big Hero 6 has helped a lot of people. Cruz does believe they have good intentions, but still feels that they harm more than help and will do anything to protect his daughter and the city. The idea of protecting family makes something click in Hiro's mind and he goes through the woods searching. He doesn't stop until he finds three small monster bear cubs playing in the mud. Bessie is a mother! She was only upset due to being unable to find her cubs. Hiro and Cruz help return the cubs to her. The family happily reunites and Cruz notes that him and Hiro make a good team.

The episode ends with the team calling an "emergency" meeting for Fred. They tell him how impressed they are with his act of responsibility and get him Cock-a-Noodle-Doo breakfast burgers for him. Fred is about to self-narrate again when Gogo slams a burger in his mouth.

Things I Liked:

FRED’S IMPERSONATION OF OBAKE. I had to pause the episode because I was laughing so hard!

Honey Lemon helping Fred with the “alien catastrophe”

Baymax diagnosing Cass and Cruz’ heart rates

Fred’s self-narrating running gag

Hiro jumping and blocking the screen on Baymax’s belly when he was about to diagnose Hiro and Megan’s heart rates.

Fred making a reference to his comic books in the middle of being cornered by the police

The fight between Gogo, Wasabi and Honey against the Buddy Guards was so good!

Hiro swatting away moths and running from bees in the woods

Hiro remembering the mud technique he learned from Krei to mask his scent! And Cruz listening to him!

FRED TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR HIS ACTIONS AND TAKING THE HEAT SO HIS FRIENDS CAN ESCAPE!!!

Cruz’s backstory at least explaining why he lost his trust in heroes

Mini-Max fixing Fred’s suit!

Cruz at least acknowledging that Big Hero 6 has good intentions

THE MONSTER CUBS!!!! THEY’RE SO CUTE!!

Bessie being reunited with her cubs!!

Hiro’s facial expression when Cruz told him that he can see why Megan likes him

The others being appreciative of what Fred did for them

Things I Disliked:

Listen. I give Fred the benefit of the doubt. He loves being a superhero so not being able to live out his dream and having to lay low all the time must be really difficult for him. And of course if hadn’t decided to go on a secret night patrol, this wouldn’t have happened. But come on. Even if the police are looking for Big Hero 6 they know “the lizard guy” is a part of it! And whether or not you’re with the others or a “dashing superhero duo”. At least he owned up to his mistakes.

Cruz’s backstory. Again, I will say that knowing why he dislikes superheroes and how his character was overall in this episode has made me less salty towards him. But it is still an overdone trope. I feel bad for him. He was a child when his father was straight up murdered by a villain which had to have been a really traumatizing event for him. And of course this explains why he became a police officer and why he’s so protective of Megan. And yeah I suppose his only reason of hating BH6 is because he still has the belief that they attract villains which leads to him worrying about everyone’s safety. I just hope that overall he realizes that it’s supervillains that cause superheroes to show up. And that while superheroes can’t save everyone, neither can the police. And that Big Hero 6 can do a lot of things that the police can’t do and they can work together.

CAN CASS JUST HAVE ONE NICE DATE

On a scale of 1 to 10...I’d rate Fred the Fugitive an 8.1!

[punkcupcakestyles]

Love Song

5

“Of course it does. I’m fucking cute.”

“You are. And I really want to kiss you right now.”

“But you can’t.”

“I can’t.”

Catch up!

I had messed up, I knew that much, or at least a part of me, the smart one, knew it. The other part was reeling in excitement, a smile plastered on my face as I kept replaying the kiss in my head.

God, that kiss.

I could remember every second of it, the sweetness of his lips, and the eagerness of his touch as he explored, with nails scraping lightly on my skin as his fingers dug on the curves of my body.

We had kissed until our lips were swollen and there was no more air in our lungs.

"Sorry," He had chuckled as he broke the kiss, pulling away just enough to look at me. His fingers were caressing down my arms, so softly that a million goosebumps rose at his wake, and I couldn't help but let out a shaky breath. His lips were as purple as mine, swollen with the kisses we had shared, and his cheeks were pink flushed, giving him a boyish look that only added to his already ridiculous charm.

"S'okay," I whispered, the warm fuzziness of the kiss still buzzing on my kiss. I could feel it on my chest, as my heart thumped in somewhat joy and somewhat guilt. It made my fingers prickle and my brain to jump from one memory to the other, still uncertain that it hadn't been just a fickle of its active imagination. Real or just my imagination, I was never going to have a kiss like that again.

But then again, it hadn't been just a kiss, it was a moment of complete abandon, one where I had let curiosity win the battle, and allowed myself to go far beyond from where I was supposed to go.

I wished I had kissed him a little more, with those butterfly kisses you see in the movies, with my hands cupping his face and his own fingers tangled in my hair. It would've been a lot nicer that way. But instead, I had untangled myself from him and went to sit right by his side, my fingers slipping from his as he allowed me to go.

It was easier to breathe that way, easier to think too, without the temptation of his cherry lips so close to me. I smiled shyly and my fingers knotted in my hair,  bringing it behind my ear, in a clumsy attempt to give myself something to do.

"What I said earlier was true, y'know?" Harry finally said, breaking the air that was filled with tense electricity, the same one that was bubbling in my tummy and prickling on the tip of my fingers. His words made me look at him, deep into his eyes this time, and to notice the curiosity that was burning in them. "I can play by your rules."

"I thought what you said earlier was that we could be friends."

"That too. I'd really like that too. I just...I just got a feeling they're important to you." His smile was sincere and shy, his little dimples popping out on his face as he cast down his gaze. What was I supposed to say, anyway?

"So, no more kisses?"

"We can figure that out." His smirk grew and I realized just how stupidly easy it was for him to jump from a sweet boy to the dashing man he actually was. He rolled his bottom lip into his mouth and leaned just a little bit, enough so his breath fanned over my skin and I could smell his cologne. "We just need to behave," he whispered, a secret for both of us to keep and break.

"I behave, Styles," I whispered back. "Maybe you should be the one to stop smirking and...kissing me."

"I'll try my best. Can't promise anything, though."

"You're an idiot," I giggled for a second, before inhaling deeply as I licked my lips. For the first time that night, I failed to look him in the eyes. "It's not about sex, you'know?" It wasn't. I had no idea what it was about, though. I just needed those rules, that security, that sense of control, the idea of being in charge of something, of anything, really.

"You don't have to explain why they're important, Sof, I just know that they are. That's enough, innit?" He said, and the sincerity in his voice made me smile, and look at him as his fingertips brushed lightly over my hand, a simple touch meant to reassure me. "What?"

"Haven't met many guys like you, Harry," I said. "I still can't figure out if that's a good thing."

"It's a sad thing for sure."

"It is," I chuckled, even if there was not much to laugh about. His lips were sweet and soft when they met mine in a quick kiss, fingers cupping gingerly around my face as he pulled me closer. Just a second, not long enough to get lost in him, but able to make my breath hitch.

"That was the last one," he whispered as he broke the kiss.

"You promise?"

"I can't," he smirked in response. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"Now? It's almost day!"

"I know, but I, uh, I need a minute alone. Or maybe two," he replied bashfully, and it took me a couple of seconds to realize what he meant. When I did, I looked away from him, so I could hide the flush on my cheeks.

"Go."

15 minutes had gone by and Harry still hadn't come out of the bathroom. Time was my enemy, really, cause it gave me the opportunity to think, to dwell on the awkwardness and regret the things that didn't happen, and the ones that weren't going to happen. The more I thought, the more nervous I got, dry mouth and thumping heart.

The shower finally stopped running and I could hear Harry as he rummaged through the bathroom, getting ready to come out. I closed my eyes and let myself slid into the covers, pretending to be asleep when I heard the door open. A sigh echoed in the air, a couple of steps and a door closing again. The lights were off and I was alone in bed.

Harry had left.

***

@D

- INFO YOU NEED TO KNOW -

Name of the show: The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon

Host: Jimmy Fallon

Time slot: 11:35/10:35 C

Location: New York

Who will be featured with you?: Saoirse Ronan and John Legend.

Sketches: You’ll be participating on either Box of Lies (he’ll give you an object and you either lie your ass off or tell the truth about it, while he tries to guess); Dance Battle (there is a dance move generator); or Egg Russian Roulette (literally, you’ll be cracking eggs over your head).

@D

You’re gonna be wearing an Elie Saab black dress with a plunging neckline (it’s already picked, Midge loved it). We would very much rather if you didn’t play the Egg Russian Roulette. We’ll see what we can do.

@D

Jimmy Fallon laughs a lot. Try to ignore that.

@D

If asked about Harry, divert. We’re still not talking about it.

@D

We’ll leave to New York at 3. Be early.

@D

I left a new script at your place this morning. I would like to touch basis with you on the plane, see if it’s anything that interests us. (I wonder where you were 🤔)

@D

We’re having dinner with Harry and his friends tonight. We’ll be arriving at the hotel at around 9ish, so you won’t have a lot of time to get ready. I left a couple of outfit options as well.

@D

BTW, we need to talk.

***

Maybe I could still make it. After all, it was only 12:15, which left me a little less than 3 hours to go home, take a shower, pack, and get across town to board the flight.

I wasn’t going to make it.

Diana was gonna kill me.

I was dashing through the room, picking and piling the few things that belonged to me onto the bed, and sighing in desperation when I realized they would simply not fit into the ridiculously tiny purse I had with me.

There was no way I was putting on the dress I had the night before, I wasn’t looking forward to being seen on it as I left Harry’s house, or to have my picture taken as I did what it would look like a “walk of shame”. Instead, I had decided to keep on Harry’s clothes, even if his sweatpants felt tight around my ass and the upper part of my thighs. My hair was dangling dangerously from a top knot, threatening to fall apart if I moved too fast and my eyes were puffy from the lack of sleep.

God, let there be no paparazzi outside his home. I wasn’t photo-ready anyway.

“You look nice.” The voice startled me, making my heart jump before I turned hastily to look at him. There he was, leaning onto the door frame, as he wore a clean black t-shirt and black jeans, and he leaned onto the door frame.

Harry smiled in satisfaction at my reaction and slowly walked into the room. It was only then that I noticed the pink suitcase he was carrying, one that looked exactly like the one I used for short trips.

“Is that mine?” I asked him.

“Yeah. Diana called, asked if you were ready for the trip. I told her you were. Then I woke up Sam, called your sister and asked her to pack your stuff, and Sam went to get it,” he explained. “Perfect plan, innit?”

“Y-you talked to Cat?”

“Yeah...I know you said “no families”, but uh…”

“Thank you,” I replied softly before he could explain himself any further. He had saved my ass, after all.  

I realized I wanted to kiss him, lightly and sweetly. A tiny peck on his cheeks, or a quick kiss on his lips, anything to have him close once more, to feel his warmth, and get a chance to nuzzle my face in the crook of his neck. That was something I probably shouldn’t do.

Harry brought the suitcase over the bed and sat next to it. It was pink and soft, covered everywhere with the bright orange logo of the high-end brand. It had been the first stupid purchase I had ever made after I had made sure we had a roof over our heads, food on our table and Cat was enrolled in a private school, all expenses already paid for. My mom was slowly coming out of her haze and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again. So I had bought it, a way to celebrate myself and the fact that we had peeked out of the darkness.

“What are you wearing?” Harry drawled, as I started to look for something to change into. My cheeks blushed, pink and hot, and I looked at him with a shy smile of my own.

“I, uh, didn’t want anyone to see me wearing the same clothes. I didn’t want the rumors.”

“So you decided to wear my clothes instead? That’s a great plan.”

“I didn’t think about that,” I smiled. I finally found a V-neck white tee, and a pair of light blue jeans that would be comfortable enough to travel in. “Where did you sleep?”

I wondered if the question had come off accusingly, or if it was as casual and carefree as I had intended it to be. Either way, I realized I shouldn’t have asked it.

“A guest room...”

“Oh.”

“I figured you wanted space. Didn’t you?”

I nodded in response, which was easier than to say what I was really thinking. Like it would’ve been nice for him to stay, or that his bed was too damn big for just one person.

I didn’t know if he quite believed me, a curious glint burning in his eyes as he looked at me. If he didn’t, he didn’t say anything, but licked his lips and remained silent as he let himself fall back on the bed. It shifted under his weight, and I smiled at him when he looked up.

“We should get our story straight, y’know?” He said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we should know our story, especially if we’re meeting my friends tonight.”

“Just tell’em the truth, Harry.”

“I really don’t wanna do that,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to look at the ceiling. He clasped his hands over his tummy and pressed his lips together, deep in thought.

“Ok, how about this?” I put my clothes down and climbed on the bed to lie by his side. “You saw me at a party, thought I was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, told Jeff that if he didn’t get my number you would burn down his house, and here we are!”

“That sounds like something that could happen,” he chuckled, turning to one side to face me. My smile widened as I looked at him and felt the soft tickles of his fingers as they snuck under my shirt. It was soft and sweet, meant to have me close to him and nothing else.

“Of course it does. I’m fucking cute.”

“You are. And I really want to kiss you right now.”

“But you can’t.”

“I can’t.”

***

I had made it.

I was sitting on the leather chair, with my knees against my chest, as the plane got ready to take off. Diana, Jeff, Harry and I were the only passengers, and the two boys were talking as Diana sat in front of me.

“You know there’s a lot of actors out there that don’t travel with their agent everywhere?” I asked the blonde girl, who rose her eyebrow as she offered me a smirk.

“Consider yourself lucky, then,” she replied.

“I do.”

“Did you have time to check the script?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t.” I felt myself blush in embarrassment, as I looked at the way she rolled her eyes at me.

“Good thing I got a copy. See? Having your agent by your side is pretty useful,” she handed me a thick script, with a handwritten note on the first page, and the title of the movie written in bold caps.

“Dear Midge,

I think this would be perfect for Sofia, and Sofia would be perfect for us. Audrey wouldn’t have been Audrey without Holly.

To our new Holly.

Kisses,

B.”

“Breakfast at Tiffany's?” I chuckled in disbelief. “Are you crazy? This is one of the most beloved characters in cinema’ history.”

“I know.” She replied simply, a sweet smile replacing the sly one from before. “And they want you. This is a great remake. They’re gonna play Holly’s bisexuality and Paul’s homosexuality, which obviously wasn’t featured in the original one, she’s gonna be an actual scort, even smoke weed. You’re gonna be the Holly that Truman Capote intended her to be.”

“I’m gonna murder Holly,” I sighed. The script fell on the coffee table between our seats, and I got up from my chair to walk to the back of the plane, where they had coffee and snacks ready for us.

“Let’s do this.” I heard Diana say as she followed behind. “Read the script and we can talk about it later. The role is yours if you want it.”

It was time for me to roll my eyes at her.

I poured coffee for both of us and leaned into the counter as she stood by my side. For a second, it looked as if she had something to say, but didn’t know how; her lips rolled into her mouth and her eyes cast over the red coffeemaker. The silence upon us was suffocating, even for just a few seconds, and I cleared my throat to call her attention to me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just…” There were very few times where I had seen Diana struggle with words. Each time was scarier than the other. “I talked to your dad.”

“You what?” We were well out of earshot, but I still hissed my words under my breath. My heart felt as if it could stop at any second, racing fast and strong as Diana shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

“I, uh, he called, asked for you. I thought that, well, I’ve never heard you talk about him, so I decided to see him, find out what he wanted.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing...He, uh, asked about you, about Cat, wanted to know you were ok. I  made sure he was as comfortable as he could, and that he was able to go back home.”

“You gave him money…”

It was actually a relief, to see her doubt for a second right before she nodded. He wasn’t after me, or Cat, or mom. I could live with that.

“Yeah, Yeah,” Diana continued. “He didn’t want to, though. But I, I wanted him to…”

“Get the hell out of L.A.? Thank you, me too.”

“Yes, but he had this crazy story, y’know? About how you left home. Pretty fucking away from the standard ‘She always wanted to be an actress and we let her move to a corrupt city when she was way too young, so she could shoot her shot’ one.”

“D…”

“I don’t wanna know, Sof. We just need to make sure this doesn’t come out.”

“Yeah.”

“And please, consider the movie. We need a second Oscar,” she said in a loud voice, while she took both of our cups in her hands and turned to go back to her seat. “Better yet, win that first Oscar!”

I stood where I was, leaning against the counter as I tried to imagine what my father had told Diana. It could’ve been anything, even the truth. I was unable to move or even breathe, so I just stared at the group of people that were sitting in front of me. Harry was laughing loudly at something Diana had just said, while she sat primly on her chair. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and he leaned forward as his arms hugged around his own tummy. They seemed happy, far from the darkness that was pressing down my chest and making everything seem distant and bleak.

“Excuse me, miss? I need you to sit down, we’re about to hit some turbulence,” the petite flight attendant told me. She had popped out of nowhere, and I stared at her for a second, wondering how much, if any, of our conversation she had heard. She smiled shyly at me, but still, her firm hand guided me to my seat, repeating her order to everyone so they would sit.

Harry sat next to me and looked at me in surprise as I took his hand in mine. “Are you scared of flying?” He asked and I replied with a swift nod of my head. I wasn’t, I just needed something to anchor me to reality. Closing my eyes, I leaned back onto the chair and tried to focus on the loud thumps of my heart, counting them as Harry began to rub soothing circles on my skin.

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

“We’ll fall together.”

“Literally.”

***

“So, let’s talk about sleeping arrangements,” Diana told me as the plane was landing.

I looked up from the script, which I had been reading during the whole flight, and quirked my eyebrow at her sheepish smile. Harry, whose head was resting on my shoulder as he slept, stirred just a bit in protest.

“What?”

“Well, Harry has an apartment in New York. We’re staying at a hotel in Tribeca and Harry would come and go as he pleases. Unless you want to stay in his apartment, he offered.”

“I’ll stay at the hotel.”

“That’s a good idea.” Diana smiled proudly.

Between landing and getting our things in the car, we arrived at the hotel at 9ish, just as Diana had predicted. What she hadn’t told me was the fact that there were going to be paparazzi waiting for me in front of the hotel. I glared at her as she offered me an apologetic smile, and without saying anything, she jumped out of the car, with Jeff following suit, to get our stuff.

Harry came out first and went to help Jeff carry our suitcases into the hotel. When it was my turn to come out, I just dashed to the entrance, getting into the hotel without answering or even acknowledging the insidious questions thrown my way. I wasn’t in the mood for them, or anyone really.

Diana and Jeff stayed at the lobby, while Harry and I got to the top floor of the hotel without saying a word. He stood right next to me during the whole ride, holding my suitcase on one and an overnight bag over his shoulder. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were puffy, revealing just how little sleep we had had the night before He looked tired, and somehow still managed to be the most handsome boy I had seen that night, week, year.

“You ok?” He asked as the elevator opened its doors and we were met with a pristine corridor. The hotel, that mostly looked like a remodeled speakeasy bar, was spotless and modern, with high ceilings and trendy decoration.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“Wanna skip tonight’s dinner?” He offered, waiting for me to open the door to the room.

“I’m sorry, yes, I’m not in the mood for people. Do you mind?”

“No, please, get some rest” he reassured me.

I hurried to turn the lights on as soon as we got in, revealing a luxurious room with black and white furniture and a huge window that looked over the Hudson River. There was a huge TV, and a couple of warm blue blankets over one of the couches, and a bar table with whiskey and champagne on it. A giant sliding door lead to a private rooftop, with chairs to take the sun.

“Harry…Could you stay with me? I don’t wanna be alone.”

[resident-of-storybrooke]

You’re My Home: CSSS17

Title: You’re My Home Rating: T Summary: This takes place after the darkness has been taken out of both CS, let us call this a canon divergence, eh? A bit of angst, a dash of fluff, and a happy beginning (perhaps?). You know the drill loves, drop a review if you’d be so kind! AN: This is my CS Secret Santa gift, thank you @cssecretsanta for organizing all of this! Also, thanks to my dear friend Lydia ( @rouhn ) for being the best and being my beta for this! I am very excited to finally reveal my identity, @once-a-superwholockianwizard I am very happy to be your Secret Santa! It’s been a blast getting to know you more throughout the process, and I look forward to future chats! I hope you enjoy your gift!! Happy holiday love! 

Finally…happy holidays, I hope however and with whomever you choose to spend this time with that you have a merry time. Thank you OUAT fandom for making this truly a special year for me, I’ll see you beautiful souls in the new year. All the love! 

Emma still found it a bit unnerving to be in the house, their house. Although, it didn’t feel like their house yet. It didn’t help that most of Killian’s belongings were still on the Jolly Roger, Emma hadn’t asked him to move in, yet. Plus, there were still stark reminders of their times as the Dark Ones before their trip to the Underworld.

She cringed at the thought, everything that had happened and that was said between them. Emma thought she had lost her chance of her happy ending, again, when she had to leave him there. The elevator ride was the most painful moment of her life. Even worse than the times Killian had died, maybe because she knew somehow, he’d always come back, he was a survivor after all. But then? Then she thought that was really the end of their love story. Thank god - eh Zeus - that it wasn’t the end though.

They hadn’t really talked about what had happened, granted it had only been a few days and they were separated by another damn portal, still, they needed to talk. Wow, Emma Swan wanting to talk out her issues? Needless to say, Killian Jones truly brought out a different side of her.

She made her way over to the kitchen, although infamous for her lack of cooking skills, she decided she wanted to make something special for Killian. She figured it would help ease their way into the difficult night ahead. While racking her brain of something to make, she remembered that even though he was a seafaring man, he did love Italian food, and she just so happened to have the ingredients to make them some chicken parmesan. She had a few hours to put everything together before he would be home.

Since their return, he decided it would be “good form” to get a job and help be a law-abiding citizen, especially since he fancied the sheriff and wanted to get in her good graces. He took Henry with him to the docks to help make sure all the ships’ licenses were up to code. She was thankful that after everything, Henry and Killian still seemed close. She knew he missed his father, but it was nice for him to have Killian to look up to as a… pirate.

Before Emma put the chicken into the oven she got a text from Snow, asking if they wanted to go out for dinner, but Emma told her that she and Killian were having a night in. Snow offered to take Henry for the night, but Emma informed her that he was spending the weekend at Regina’s house. Since her split from the Evil Queen, she’s been on edge and Henry helped her.

Emma looked up at the clock, she still had about half an hour left, she set everything on low and decided to change into something a bit nicer than sweats. When she went upstairs the first dress she pulled out was the pink dress she had worn on their first date. She smiled at the memory, but then she remembered. That wasn’t the only time she had worn the dress, she had poofed it on when they were on his ship when he had told her, he had loved her. She pressed her lips into a thin line, a single tear slipped from her eye, only by thinking about that evening. Suddenly she heard the front door open. She shook her head slightly and tried to get it together. The one glass of wine she had while cooking had not prepared her for this night. Maybe she should’ve had a swig of rum.

“Swan? Are you home? Where are you, love?” She could hear the worry in his voice, it was a common occurrence around the house. Maybe one day they wouldn’t have to fear about the others’ life as much.

“Yeah, I’m upstairs. I’ll be right down!” She decided to forgo a dress, instead she went with some jeans and a violet V-neck shirt that made her eyes pop ever so slightly. Emma rushed downstairs hoping he did not spoil her dinner surprise. However, she was surprised herself, when she saw he had a Granny’s to-go bag in his hand. Seemed as though they both had the same idea for the night.

“Hello there, love. I thought I would try and help out with dinner, but it seems as though you beat me to it.” He reached up and scratched his ear, a nervous tick of his she desperately missed seeing.

“I was trying to surprise you with a nice dinner, but we can-”, he cut her off with a kiss.

“No, Swan, this looks perfect. Thank you, darling.” A quick blush graced her face, she took a few quick strides over to the kitchen to make their plates.

Dinner was-, well, it was downright awkward. Usually, the silence between them wasn’t so uncomfortable, but both knew where this evening was leading to and neither wanted to start off. Killian tried to lessen the tension by mentioning how Mr. Haydock’s license was expired and it was Henry who caught it, but Emma had enough.

“Killian, I killed you.” Not exactly the elegant touch she was going for, but when did Emma Swan ever shy away from being blunt?

“Aye Swan, that you did, only after I told you to. You wouldn’t have needed to do that if I hadn’t given into the darkness.” The shame overflowing from his face, the disgust in his voice evident.

“Yeah, well if I had listened to you and not turned you into the Dark One or lied about Excalibur that wouldn’t have happened.” She didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, she couldn’t look at him at all. She finished her glass of wine and poured a rather healthy amount back into her glass. This conversation was only beginning and Emma knew she shouldn’t be drunk for it, but she needed some liquid courage.

“Emma, I’m not going to play this “what-if” game with you all night. Aye?” Emma shook her head, knowing that this was going to get them nowhere if they just kept at it. “Emma, please look at me,” his smile failed to reach his eyes, “I have done unspeakable things during my life, but nothing as heinous as what I did as the Dark One. I put everyone you love in danger, because of my thirst for revenge. I don’t expect you to forgive me anytime soon.” He took a deep breath, finally, he searched for her eyes. “Maybe, uh, I think it’ll be better if I left for a little.”

Emma’s head shot up again with his last statement. “You- you’re kidding, right?” Killian didn’t even bother to try and look her in the eyes, she could see he was holding back tears. “After everything, you’re the one who’s going to run? That’s rich, Hook.” She spat out his moniker back at him, not feeling an ounce of guilt.

“Emma, please, I have caused so much pain I need to leave you, let you heal without a constant reminder of who ruined your life.” He didn’t even wait for her rebottle, instead, he got up from his chair, walked over to the coat rack for his leather jacket (the one Emma had bought him), and without even looking back at her walked out the door.

Staring at the now closed door, she couldn’t hold back anymore, the tears came rushing out. Emma thought she had cried out all her tears after he died, but somehow there were still some left in her. Her sobs turned into her convulsing on the couch. No matter what she tried she could not seem to get in control of herself. Instead of fighting it she let it all out, there was no need to hide now. Growing up, Emma thought crying, hell showing any emotion, made her weak, but she has learned that it’s healthy to let it out. Granted she wished she was expressing happier emotions, but she knew she needed to let her body run its course.

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She had made him bloody dinner, one of his favorites too. And like the git he was, has he messed it up. Emma, his Swan, wanted to talk. The woman with the walls as high as that damn beanstalk, they once climbed, wanted to communicate, to work through things. But he couldn’t though.

Killian was far from forgiving himself for what he had done to her and their - her family. He knew he shouldn’t consider himself as a part of the Charming’s, he was far from any hero. A hero wouldn’t have lied to the woman he loved, hurt her and her family to seek revenge on the bloody crocodile, or have them risk their lives to save him from the blasted Underworld.

Although he shouldn’t have walked out on her, he knew that. Killian thought it was a bit late though to turn around, but he needed to be the man Emma knew he could be. So, he walked back to the house. Before he could open the door, he heard her - she was sobbing uncontrollably.

He moved over to the porch and he could see her on the couch. He saw what he had done to her, he was to blame. His own tears started teasing his eyes, he lifted his right hand swatting them away - with no luck. He quickly ran from the house not being able to stand the sight of seeing his true love in so much pain.

They were true love. Dammit. Why was he acting like this? She still loved him, she had told him outside of Granny’s after his return. She saw the good in him, she still wanted to be with him after everything.

He needed to go for a walk, to get out of his own head. As he made his way pass Main Street he could see into Granny’s, her parents and Neal making their way to the exit. Killian tried to hurry along. He could barely look Emma in the eyes, let alone her parents who he had tried to kill and who had risked their lives several times to save him.

“Oh! Killian!” Dammit. Snow had seen him, he knew better than to try and ignore the royals so he made haste to catch up with them.

“Your majesties, lovely to see you.” He gave a short bow and a sly smirk as if that would fool them. Snow shot a look over at David and handed him Neal then, with much more strength than he realized she possessed, took him to the middle of the street by his arm.

“Alright, spill it. What happened? Emma told me you two were having dinner tonight and here you are Emma-less and with tear-stained cheeks.” Her voice softened towards the end of her declaration, knowing that tonight had not gone to plan for her daughter and the pirate.  

“Aye, no getting by you, is there m’lady?” His charm was failing him yet again., Besides Emma, Snow always could see right through him, maybe she got the lie detector ability from her mother. “It seems as though I have broken my promise I made to you and the Prince all those months ago. I promised I would never hurt Emma, but I did. I also hurt you, your entire family. I never truly apologized for all the mayhem I caused, m’la-Snow, I am sorry. What I did is-”

“Human. Killian, yes you messed up, but you’re human. You might’ve been immortal, but still. It’s not your fault, and I’m not saying it’s Emma’s fault either. You can’t beat yourself up for your sins forever, you know?” She grabbed his arm, trying to elicit some sort of response from him.

He looked up at her, tears in both of their eyes now. He didn’t know why but suddenly he blurted out with the truth. “I thought it would be better if I gave her space, let her heal in peace without me around, but that was a horrible idea. I hurt her again, tonight. She tried to make us dinner, she wanted to talk, but I ran. I keep hoping I can outrun my past, but it seems as though I’m not fast enough. I don’t know what to do, I’m so scared to let her down again.” He choked on his last word, Snow then reached out and pulled him into a hug. Although she was significantly shorter than him it felt comfortable, familiar almost.  

They just stood there, in the middle of Main Street with Killian finally opening up and letting his emotions spill out from him. Snow never let go, she rubbed his back with such a maternal touch, it caught him off guard. He had gone without a family for so long, but now he was here, hugging Snow White, the mother of his true love. He took a deep breath and stepped back from her, both wiping their eyes.

“Killian, for what it’s worth, David and I forgive you. We have for a while, no one holds any ill will against you. You need to stop beating yourself up for something you could not control, okay? As for you and Emma, when people are supposed to be together they’ll find a way. Now, go find my daughter, I’ll see you both at family dinner tomorrow.” His eyes must have shown his shock, he had joined them for dinner plenty of times, but never ones deemed “family dinner”. Perhaps he still stood a chance. He walked her over to the truck where David was waiting for the two of them.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, mate.” Killian didn’t expect him to say anything, and although “mate” had been tossed around between the two of them, he looked into David’s eyes and saw he was being sincere. For the first time, all night Killian felt a smile grace his face, a sincere one. David did something surprising, he brought him in for a hug. They were a touchy bunch these Charmings, but he would never complain. The hug was significantly shorter than the one experienced with Snow, but yet just as meaningful.

He decided he needed to clear his head properly and figure out how he was going to make everything up to Emma. The docks seemed like the perfect place for him.

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After what seemed like ages Emma woke up, she must have passed out after her cry. She looked over at the grandfather clock, it was three in the morning. She should have gone up to the room, but she couldn’t imagine going to what was supposed to be their bedroom alone. No one would be up, so she figured her best bet was to go for a walk to try and clear her head.

She shouldn’t have been really that surprised that she ended up at the docks. Killian always took her here whenever she was upset. He said it was his job to protect her heart, but right now she felt as though her heart had been ripped from her chest. She knew that there were still a few hours from sunrise, but it was a cool summer night and sitting out here for a while would probably do her some good.

Emma knew she had already forgiven Killian, for everything. She just needed to figure out how to express that to him, before he could run away again. Not that she blamed him for running away. She had run away from the conversation over the last few days, just not physically like he did. As Emma kept walking she noticed a figure sitting in her usual spot, she knew exactly who it was.

“Killian?” She said tentatively, not knowing if he would really want to see her after everything. He turned around startled by her voice, even in the pale moonlight she could see how distraught he was. His eyes rimmed with redness, his hair messier than normal as if he had been running his fingers through it all night.

“Aye, love. What are you doing here at this late hour?” He sounded guilty, knowing that he was the reason she couldn’t sleep, which was partially true. She took a few steps towards him looking at him as if she was asking permission to sit down so he swiftly nodded. They sat on the edge of the dock in silence, much like they had done during dinner.

“Killian, I-”

“Emma.” Both said at the same time, Killian raised his hand, hoping Emma would let him go first and she did.

“Emma Swan, I feel like I owe you a million apologies. I should have never run out on you like that. I was scared, but that’s not good enough of an excuse, nothing is. Your mother and I had a bit of a chat tonight.” Emma looked over at him to see if she could read how the conversation between them went. When Killian gave a quick smile, a rush a relief overtook her.

“Your mother said I needed to stop trying to run, that I cannot beat myself up forever for what I have done. Although I understand, I don’t know if I can ever forget what I did. But I want to promise you that I will move on and will learn from my past mistakes. I want to be this better man for you, Emma.”

She reached over for his hook, holding it as she always did, but Killian still weary flinched at the contact. Emma couldn’t handle it anymore, she decided to pull him in for a hug. Both started crying once more, suddenly she realized the last time he saw her cry was when they were in the Underworld saying what they thought was goodbye.

No.

She had to stop living in the past, living in those dreadful moments. Her dad once told her life was made up of moments, good and bad, but that it was worth it all. It was then she decided she was ready to start making some of those good moments.

“Killian,” she pulled back from his arms, fear quickly spread across his face, “I am tired of living in the past. You, flaws and all, are the man I want to be with. We can’t keep running. I know I am just as guilty of it, but you come to me Killian, you lean on me, you trust me when things go wrong. We work through things together. You said we make quite the team? Let’s prove your theory. I still want that future with you, the house the yard, the kids-”

Emma didn’t mean to make it slip, but she couldn’t lie, watching Killian with Neal made her feel some type of way, something she never expected to feel again. He seemed to have caught that admission and she was surprised to see the pure joy that now danced upon his face. It seemed as though she wasn’t the only one who thought about their possible future family.

“I can’t promise that this will be easy, there will be times that I drive you crazy and you’ll question your sanity, and you’ll probably-” for the second time tonight, he had cut her off with a kiss. This kiss, however, was full of promise. Promise for their future, together.

“Swan, as much as I’d like to watch the sunrise with you, I think it’d be best if we head back.” She looked over at him, a big smile appeared on her face. The man she loved, the man who loved her, he was back. For good.

They walked home, hand in hand just as they had done a million times by this point, but Emma felt different about it. As they walked in silence it was no longer uncomfortable, it was actually quite relaxing. There were no underlying tensions to take away from their moment, their happy moment.

Killian opened the door for her and stepped to the side, always the gentleman, even adding a bow to really sell the moment. Emma stood there watching her true love.

“Move in with me.” It wasn’t a question, she knew this is what she wanted, what they both wanted. She heard Killian let out a small gasp, his eyes grew wide, and his smile took over his face.

As they walked through the front door Emma felt it, she was home, truly home and that their happiness was just beginning.

[foresthuntermajrach]

Arctic - EzarelxGardienne imagine

Imagine that your OTP is not yet a couple. Person A falls into freezing water and passes out. Person B pulls them to safety but now needs to get Person A out of their wet clothes and into something dry. (from otpprompts)

Aka I had a dream and decided to write it down as a fic

AN/ Idk if it's not a lil ooc but I had to share it lol.

I dedicate it to you @incorrecteldarya bc I’m proud of this and I believe you will like it, sweetie. I hope it can make your day nicer with all the work that keeps you away from tumblr :>

@eldaryandy I did promise to tag you when I’m done lol (so so much time ago)

Word count: 2111 (aka the longest so far hah), link to AO3 can be found on the imagines page

“Shit” you breath out as you quickly unclasp the fastening of your cloak and force your boots off, the sweater, pants and socks following right after before you jump in the freezing water. You force the ready to escape breath to stay in your lungs as your eyes open and search through the icy liquid, quickly catching a glimpse of blue that you immediately reach for.

Your right arm wraps around the cloaked chest while your left helps your legs as they work hard to get you to the surface, adrenaline somehow keeping you conscious and strong enough to reach the sharp edge of the blowhole the man accidentally cracked in the ice.

The nails of your free hand scratch the slippery surface as you fight to keep your head over the water, before a swirly blue antler is almost showed at your face and you thankfully grab on it to let the animal help you get yourself and the elf out of the water.

The air is even colder now as you cough out the little bit of water that got in your system when you almost fell back under the surface, but you still have work to do. And as you ignore the cold and embracing him across his chest drag Ezarel further from the danger, you lift your eyes once more at the danalasm.

“Find a cave” it bows its head slightly and dashes over the snow-covered ice and ground while you turn back to the unconscious man.

You check for the breath and curse when you find none, quickly moving your lips onto his.

‘He’ll kill me later’ you think as you give him five breaths, before your palms land on his chest to continue the resuscitation until a choke on the water comes but no signs of returning consciousness arrive.

When you’re sure he breathes again you pause before proceeding with what you know has to be done. Your teeth chatter from cold, so you throw your cloak around your shoulders before you unbutton his outerwear with your already numb fingers. It’s hard but not impossible and soon enough only the underwear is left and as you close your eyes and turn your head to the side, your face burning, you force your hands to get rid of those too, before shrugging the cloak off of you and wrapping him in it the best you can while not looking... too much. You know you can use a blanket for that but it’s deep in your bag and you as well are aware that it’ll take forever to unfasten it with the current state of your hands.

A thought passes your mind that if not because of the “kiss”, you’re definitely going to get killed now if the elf learns about the fact you just stripped him, but honestly it’s the last thing you should care about now. It’s now you who you have to take care of and you think little as you shrug off your underwear before quickly pulling your remaining clothes on. They’re already cold from being left alone yet still dry and you know they’ll save you from freezing to death as your quickly rub your arms to bring some warmth back to your shivering body.

You prop Ezarel’s head on your lap, your hand placed close enough to his nose to keep watch on his breathing, while you look around, waiting for your companion's return. The white drifts surrounding you make the scene seem even more surreal than it is. Calm, although your hearth is racing still from the all emotions bubbling in your heart even since you heard the crack. You two have been too reckless to walk through the wet grounds, even with the grand frost that iced them over. After all, it’s never been a secret to you that in places like this the water often stays a little warmer right below the surface, not to mention the places with naturally weak ice that happen as long as the temperature does not go under twenty Celsius degrees for three days straight.

You thought this world would work a little different than the one you come from, but that made you forget the fact physics laws have proven to you many times to work similarly in both worlds.

Just then from the white surrounding you jumps a flash of blue and gold, and you let out a breath of relief.

It takes you much more time than you’d like to get to the cave it found, since not only do you have to drag the elf there but also pay close attention to your cloak so that it does not accidentally slip off of him as you flounder through the snowdrifts while staying alert in case you accidentally slipped from the solid ground to the ice again. And when you finally reach your destination you’re out of breath.

Yet, you’re far from having the right to rest.

“Go find something suitable for a fire, Eve” gasping, you instruct your familiar when it drops the clothes and bags you made it bring here for you and it immediately disappears outside, leaving you alone with the unconscious man and your things.

You place Ezarel in the further end of the cave (which by the way turns to be quite large) to save him from the possible move of the air close to the entrance and now you’re fighting with the bags’ fastenings to get all the necessary things out.

The blankets go first – you wrap the elf in them, giving him yours as well, while again checking whether he’s still breathing. You’re honestly just happy he dropped his bag when falling in the water, since thanks to that you can provide him with more warmth and first of all dry underwear . Which is incredibly hard to put on him while doing your best not to look.

Eve is quick to bring you enough firewood to make a small fire before it comes with more and when you finish the work on making the entrance smaller in order to keep more warmth in the cave, you allow yourself to sit close to it by the elf and eat a piece of bread and cheese you took out of your food supplies, the fingers of your free hand lightly brushing through damp blue hair.

It’s then that you have the time and are calm enough to fully reminisce on the happenings, do you remember how your heart stopped when suddenly the always smug man disappeared under the snow. A sour expression clouds your face as you study his currently calm features, your hand slipping to the still icy cold skin of his face and neck. You’ll be needing to warm him up soon if you want him to stay alive, you realise.

Sensation comes to him in drifts. Secure is the first he registers.

Warm is the second.

He can hear the cheerful crack of wood chips burning, feel their smell mixed with the freshness of the winter air and some sweeter tint he knows from somewhere he’s not sure of.

He finds some peaceful pleasure in it all, but the warmth is the nicest. The most of it is pressed to his back, some of it resting on his side and sliding to his chest ending there in a form of a hand. – His eyes snap open.

His vision’s blurry at first but he easily recognises the shape of the fire burning in the centre of dark rocks lit by echoes of it. A white and gold spotty coat of a napping danalasm a little further away from it.

His memory stirs as his hand closes on a smaller palm pressing to the centre of his chest. You two walking through the snow, him making fun of your annoyance due to the lack of attraction and the cracking sound coming from under his feet. Too quick for him to react.

“You’re awake. Good...” you slip your hand out of his before leaving the warmth of the joined blankets, hands immediately darting to your clothes neatly folded on the rocky ground.

“What... why are we naked ?” you let out a small squeak as he turns to you putting on your sweater.

“We’re not naked” you huff, an unwanted warmth spreading over your neck “Mostly.”

Belatedly, he realises he has some underwear on, his cheeks flaring up still as he refuses to look away from you putting on your pants.

“Did you... have you ..?”

You wrap yourself in your cloak and sit down close by him, your hand darting to his forehead to check the temperature as small smirk tugs the corner of your lip up.

“What will be more fun? Me telling you the truth or leaving you to your own imagination?” you copy what he’s once told you and he slaps away your hand.

“Never mind” he grumbles and you let a smile slip on your lips.

“Worry not, I didn’t look too hard-”

He shots you a dirty look and you cackle at this before you crawl closer to the fire, some of the shared warmth you got from contact with him withering away already. It’s not an often occurrence for you to tick him off so easily.

“Was it really necessary?” when you send him questioning glance he brings the blankets closer, red still tinting his ears as he looks up at you with a tired pout.

“Body heat’s more effective with skin-on-skin contact and if I didn’t keep your temperature up you wouldn’t wake up at all. I think you know that.” You shrug, bringing the material closer to your face to hide the colour it gains as you talk. You wish you could’ve stayed wrapped in the blankets pressed to the man’s back but knowing him it is out of the question. And you really don’t want to anger him more, especially seeing you’ve crossed so many lines already.

When you look up from the fire, you notice golden eyes staring at you from the other side of the cave. Your familiar pricking up its ears before it lays its head back down on the rocks, its antlers glinting in the fire’s light.

You turn when you hear Ezarel calling your name.

“Get back over here,” You blink your eyes, not really registering what he’s just ordered you to do “Before I change my mind.”

“Are you seriously offering me to snuggle up to you naked ?”

A playful smile slips on his lips on that.

“It’s a special offer. It expires in three, two-”

“Wait!” you get up a little too abruptly, your coat falling to the ground behind you and the elf snorts at your reaction.

“Did you really take me seriously? Pervert” he muses and you send him a murderous glare before with visible annoyance lifting your outerwear from the ground.

“Idiot” you shot back “It’d really be better-”

“It’s good to see you angry again,” he comments with a smile, before sighing “But I was actually serious. Even most children know hypothermia’s very dangerous and you’re obviously cold already. We’d both use that anyway.”

You rise a brow before without a word stepping closer and slipping off your clothes, leaving only your underwear intact. He sighs but says nothing as he lifts the blankets for you to slip under them and when you do, he brings your back to his chest.

“Now, that’s better. It’s me touching you and not the other way” he murmurs and you roll your eyes.

“I should have really left you in that lake” you comment and that gains you a chuckle resonating through your back.

“You wouldn’t survive a day without me here to babysit you” he shots back, pocking your side and you let out a squeal.

“Oh believe me, you’re only a nuisance” you huff in response but being turned away from him do not see the fond smile forming on his lips.

“You may be saying that, but you still love me.”

“Who sane would love an ass like you?” you grumble, but from the fact you’re still stiff ever since his comment and one other detail visible on the skin of your neck and ears, he knows he hit the sore point.

“Right, sure” He lets out a sigh and pushes his face in your hair, deciding it’s best to leave you alone for now. He’ll thank you tomorrow, now it’s better to give out to the tiredness pulling at his eyelids and as he noticed earlier, yours too.

And as you two finally fall asleep a pair of golden eyes keeps their watch over you.

[alluras-paladins]

3 Times Shiro Helps Matt and 1 Time Matt Returns the Favor

Happy Voltron Positivity Day! Thank you so much @stargazershiro for organizing this!! I’m always here for positivity and I have so enjoyed seeing all the amazing work on my dash! this really pushed me to do something new, which was amazing! 

I wrote his Shatt fic for @helloimren and I hope they like it!! also i’m so sorry i’m posting this so late in the day!

Summary

It didn’t start out as a thing. Or maybe it was always a thing and neither of them noticed. The point is they weren’t keeping track. This was always just a natural element of their relationship. You could say they were there for each other. Sometimes it seemed like one of them needed to be there more than the other. But that was neither here nor there. This story starts on a day when the bells start going off and a pattern makes itself known.

aka a 3+1 story ranging from pre Kerberos Galaxy Garrison life to the boys finding each other as Rebel and Paladin and the many instances where they help each other out in different circumstances

Rating: T

Relationship: Shatt

Words: 8008

Status: One Shot/Complete

Read on Ao3

It didn’t start out as a thing. Or maybe it was always a thing and neither of them noticed. The point is they weren’t keeping track. This was always just a natural element of their relationship. You could say they were there for each other. Sometimes it seemed like one of them needed to be there more than the other. But that was neither here nor there. This story starts on a day when the bells start going off and a pattern makes itself known.

 ***

1

Matt wanted to think he had this project in the bag. From the day it was assigned he was excited about the different possibilities and in the first few days he set straight to working on his outline, and making plans to go to the library and research his hypothesis and was absolutely, under no circumstances going to procrastinate to the last second. With 2 ½ weeks to make, write, and polish off his project, Matt was positive he would have this done with time to spare.

The way Matt sees it, the problem with creating an outline and making plans to go to the library for research is that it’s all good and dandy during the first few days of an assignment. It makes you feel like you were productive and you accomplished something already and you think, “I’ve got loads of time left, and look at me getting stuff done. I’m even being responsible with time management and planning ahead. No need to sweat it.”

Wrong.

Sweat it.

Sweat it big time.

Because otherwise you do what Matt did. You make all these plans to go to the library to study and research, but you never actually go. And then before you know it two weeks have flown by and it’s the day before your project is due and you end up like Matt. Crammed into small Galaxy Garrison dorm room after scaring away your roommate with hissing noises and a computer that probably shouldn’t have been making those sounds but you were too busy searching under your bed for that reference book you were sure you checked out and had hidden somewhere around here, to pay it much mind.

Alone and stressed out and totally blameless with absolutely no idea how he ended up here (these are total lies and he knows it, deep down, but he’s not ready to admit fault to himself just yet) Matt is about one page away from giving up on the project all together and taking the F. It won’t be the only one he’s ever gotten. Maybe the only one for lack of effort. But it matters a lot more to him now than it ever has. His dad told him they’re looking at cadets from his class for a new mission and he knows one bad grade could cost him - especially one from just not turning in a major project that he had two weeks to complete.

Matt is weighing the pros and cons, considering asking for an extension, though he knows he has no grounds and that would probably root against him on the record for this new mission bidding too, when his door slams open and on the other side of it walking through the threshold in all his distracting beauty is Shiro.

“Hey Shiro, nice to see you too? Ever knock? Since when do you have a key to my dorm anyway? What are you even doing here? Didn’t I tell you I was working on this hell project? I could have sworn I complained about it at least three times this week?” Matt was already feeling a bit frantic about his lack of progress on this project. He and Shiro were great study partners when they teamed up on assignments but Shiro was most definitely not in this class, very few pilots elected to take the more advanced sciences. On the occasions when he and Matt tried to study separate things in the same room, they often got distracted by other topics far too easily and learned quickly they just had too much else to do together to waste time studying.

Matt also found more and more recently that he would get sucked in by Shiro’s lips as he spoke or the way his eyes lit up when he thought about the day's simulations. Or even Shiro's fingers and how they wrapped around a pencil or twisted as they folded paper into small airplanes or stars. It was just too easy for Matt to get distracted by Shiro. And Matt really needed to not be distracted right now.

“Hey. I did knock. Twice. I texted you to tell you I was on my way over too but you never answered me. When you didn’t answer the door I just figured it was open. It was open.” Shiro started his story with his signature “worried big brother” look Matt catches him giving the younger cadets all the time but by the end of it it had morphed into a small smirk even Shiro’s perfect manners couldn’t hide. “How is the project going? I kind of figured by now you'd either be at master genius breakthrough levels or total meltdown ready to call it quits levels?”

“The second one”

“Ahh. Alright then. All nighter. You. Me. First one to fall asleep buys dinner!”

“Shiro.. you can’t be serious. We’ll never get this done. Look at this place?”

“Then we better get organized! Let's get all the books collected over here, and your model materials, over there? And maybe save everything and restart your laptop.. I think that might be steam coming out of the top?”

“Crap!”

“And while we do that why don’t you start from the top of your outline.”

Matt quickly started fanning the near-flames of his computer while Shiro started to organize the chaos of his project inside the tiny dorm room. Matt watched him run around putting books in piles and the styrofoam in a bin by the edge of the bed with some colored paper, markers and glitter. Shiro moved around Matt’s room with such ease. It was small and regulation but it was also Matt’s space and Shiro had absolutely zero problem walking right in and making himself at home in it. Matt realized he was staring and starting to veer off into thoughts he was better off avoiding (for as long as possible) and went back to focusing on his computer. Letting the silence settle over the two of them comfortably.

He risked one more glance up at Shiro a moment later, when Shiro was finishing collecting the last of the books from where they were thrown haphazardly around the room. Matt waited for him to settle on the floor beside him before speaking.

“Hey, Shiro?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks. For helping me.”

“Of course Matt. I’ll always be here for you, every time!”

***

2.

3:52: Hey

3:52: Class just let out and i’m on my way over. Did you still want to go over your plans for field week?

3:59: please tell me you’re home because I just rounded the corner and this could be really awkward

4:00: Matt your roommate hasn’t liked me since you put that virus on his computer and told him I was using it

   4:00: He’s not here

4:00: You’re alive

4:00: mostly

4:01:... what happened

4:02: I tried to change the duvet and got stuck inside

Shiro put his phone away. Having received confirmation that Matt was both in the dorm and alone he grabbed his backpack and straightened from where he’d perched himself outside his friends room. It probably looked a little odd, someone of Shiro’s status lurking outside the dorms like this. But this had become a common occurrence by now and Bell Hall was used to spotting Shiro near Matt. Shiro liked to think the familiarity and calm that washed over the hallway, replacing the various looks he received; strange, fearful, inquisitive, verging on respectful, were limited to the dorm hallway as a result of his and Matt's abundance of time together but the truth was most of the Garrison was privy to gossip about the two of them in one way or another.

“Matt?”

“Shiro?” the sound was muffled, but the reluctance wasn’t hard to miss. Sweeping the room with a smirk Shiro caught sight of a lump on the second bed in the small regulation room. Covered in a twisted, oversized, white as snow, duvet that was probably four times the size the standard regulation was his study partner and best friend. Shiro didn’t even try to help the smile that crept onto his face.

“Hey there.”

“Shut up”

“I haven’t said anything yet”

“Stop smiling”

“What makes you think i’m cruel enough to smile at my best friend’s misfortune?”

“I can hear the smile in your voice you ass.”

“You should really be nicer to me. I am the one who’s going to get you out of this mess.” Shiro’s smirk was getting bigger and bigger as this conversation went on. Matt’s voice was still muffled through the covers but he was getting louder and more confident.

Shiro really didn’t know how it was possible but the more time he spent around Matt the further into his orbit he was drawn.  

“Don’t bother with a rescue mission. It’s too risky. Just send in rations and entertainment and promise to take care of my laptop. And Katie. She’ll need a good support system if i’m going to be lost to the walls of this pillow fortress for good. But mostly my laptop.”

Shiro laughed at his friends overdramatics. Matt was always.. theatrical. Despite the slimmer boy’s pull towards all thing clinical and scientific, he had a way with presentation and people that never failed to amaze Shiro. When Matt talked about things he loved or cared about it, when he got excited or invested in something, Shiro would lose focus on everything else in the room. Matt found a way to capture Shiro’s attention to the fullest extent on a more and more frequent basis and he was at a complete loss at how it happened. Matt was just, captivating, and dramatic, and talked with his whole body in a way that made Shiro sometimes flush to the tips of his ears- not the kind of reaction Shiro relishes in, thank you.

“I think I’ll risk the rescue. Can’t lose my best friend to unforgiving tundra of the oversized duvet wastelands now can I?” If Shiro’s chest felt an extra little beat when he said the words ‘best friend’ these days, well, he really hoped his voice stayed casual enough it wasn’t noticeable. Matt didn’t seem to care as he just shuffled around under the giant duvet and Shiro took that as a sign to move on.

“No Shiro, I won’t risk your life too!”

“If we go down, we go down together! It’s a risk i’m willing to take for you!”

“Aww, you’d live out the rest of your life in a duvet bubble for me Shiro?”

“Well when you put it like that..” Shiro made like he was going to leave when he felt a blanket covered hand flail and reach out towards him.

“No! Wait! Kidding, i’m kidding! Rescue me Takashi!”

“Alright, alright would you stop squirming? I can’t get this untangled with you so restless. How did you even get it this tangled anyways? I can’t even find the other corner to let you out?” Shiro was half leaning over Matt’s body at this point, Matt’s knees digging into Shiro’s ribs while Shiro searched the bed and ran his hands along the edge for the missing tangled corners to the duvet. He could feel the heat from Matt’s body coming through the blanket and knew he was just lucky that Matt was still trapped under those covers or he would be treated to a fully flustered Shiro. Shiro wanted to blame the flush on the exhaustless search for the edge of the blanket, but he knew deep down that it had nothing to do with that and all to do with the warm, beautiful, funny, best friend lying underneath him.

“Check the corners of the bed. I tucked some of them in under the bed to hold the duvet down when I started but I wasn’t able to get them loose from here.”

‘Now he tells me’ Shiro thinks. After he spent all his time practically fondling his friend, his hands inching their way under his body to look for stray blanket to see if Matt rolled over it by mistake in all his wiggling. “Alright.” Leaning over Matt even further Shrio reaches to the edge of the bed and tucks his hands between the wall and the mattress and comes away with a handful of big, white, fluffy duvet. From there it's just a matter of untangling Matt like a burrito, which Shiro does none too gently but at least makes sure he lands on his bed with his head squarely on a pillow.

“Oof.” Matt squeaks out at his body makes contact with the bed. “Thanks. It was getting kind of hot in there. But i’m gonna miss my little cocoon. And the locals were pretty friendly. We should go back and visit sometime.”

He says it so calmly. Like a joke. Which it probably was. But that doesn’t stop the images from flooded Shiro’s mind and it’s too late to stop them. The two of them, snuggled under that giant duvet of oversized cuddly death. Warm and safe. Safe and warm. Together. Hidden from responsibilities and training and homework and expectations. Just the two of them smiling and laughing, because Matt always makes him laugh and Shiro has never figured out how he does it so easily. It’s no sooner than all of these thoughts are registering than Shiro is realizing he may just be in a little more over his head for his best friend, his study partner, for Matt, than he ever stopped to think about. But that’s probably okay because it’s Matt.  And these feelings aren’t bad. He knows the difference between small crushes, basic attraction, and real feelings. This is becoming something he doesn’t even have a name for and Shiro is finding he doesn’t even mind.

“Yeah. Maybe we should!” Shiro finally said with a small grin, taking a seat next to Matt on the bed. He pulled his backpack along with him now, knowing eventually the two would get to whatever it was he had originally come here for, the topic hazy somewhere in the back of his mind; not completely forgotten but certainly not to be taking the focus of his memory anytime soon with Matt looking at him with those wide eyes, like he just told him their dreams were coming true tomorrow and they were headed to space. What had Shiro done to deserve this?

Suddenly Matt’s smile grew wide to match his eyes. “Really now? Alright then! But the terrain in there is tricky - don’t say I didn’t warn ya.  Just promise me you’ll be ready to save us if we get trapped?”

“Every time.” Shiro smiled down at his friend, whose smile had gone from blinding and mischievous to serene with Shiro’s words.

“Good.” Matt perked back up “Because I think the Blanket Gods will bend more easily to your will than mine.”

“That’s because I offered you up as a virgin sacrifice”

“Hey!”

***

3

To be really honest, once the giant purple koala-cat aliens showed up and honest to God abducted them from Kerberos, Matt had all but checked out from everything. It was only the feel of Shiro’s hands on his face once that seem to check him back to the present. They seem to have been thrown into a cramped dirty cell along with about 13 other aliens. Matt had lost his mind when they separated them from his dad and he was only now registering the pain from the but the butt of the gun they hit him with to shut him up, the scrape of his knees through his suit on the cold floor, the dried blood on Shiro’s forehead where their faces are just so close.

“Matt? Try to breath with me Matt. It’s going to be okay” Matt probably should have realized that he was having a small panic, that would make sense. But Shiro was whispering and he was so close the words vibrated against his pale face making him flush in the dark room.

“Sh-Shiro” Matt licked his lips and tried to look away from Shiro’s gaze. To look anywhere but his lips or his eyes that even now seemed so inviting. So warm. Like home, like safety, but his gaze just kept darting from one to the other. Eyes, lips, eyes, lips. Matt felt his breathing getting more ragged and uneven and Shiro’s eyes grew wide and he must have noticed too. Matt knew his flush was obvious under Shiro’s hands. He hoped Shiro was too busy watching his breathing and not paying close attention to the breakdown he was having on top of his already massive meltdown since they boarded the ship. The crush he harbored for his friend was no news to Matt but it was something kept pushed to the far recesses of his mind for analysis at a later time (a time Matt kind of hoped would never come because dealing with it meant facing emotions and Matt was far better with facts and figures. Real things he could calculate or even theorize. His hopeless feelings for Shiro were better left in the dark corners of his mind).

But huddled in a corner on an enemy ship, scared, alone, and on the edge of breaking, Matt was finding those feelings bubbling quickly to the surface at the most inappropriate time.

“Matt, I, we should-” Shiro started to pull his hands away from Matt’s face and he felt something inside him break.  If he lost Shiro’s closeness he might actually lose what was left of his small grip on his sanity. Matt didn’t claim to have a lot of things, his brain, his family, and his best friend. All of which he was on the the precipice of losing right this second.

“Just kiss me?” He meant it to sound commanding, like he knew exactly what he was saying. He didn’t need or want Shiro asking him if he was sure, questioning where they were or what he was thinking. He just wanted to feel Shiro’s lips on his once before the worst happened. Much to Matt’s chargen, it came out more like a plea; barely above a whisper, his voice scratchy from crying and and just a bit too high.

The 2.87 seconds it took Shiro to process and act on Matt’s command/request felt like an absolute eternity. But he’d stopped pulling away. He’d stopped pulling away and then chapped lips were on Matt’s and a warm tingling sensation was rushing down Matt’s spine and the warm, safe feeling Matt gets when he looks in Shiro’s eyes was multiplied by ten. This was better, this was so much better.

Shiro’s hands moved from Matt’s cheeks and into his hair and Matt brought his to hold around his waist and dragged his body as close as he could get until he was practically sitting in Shiro’s lap. (Not that he had started much farther away considering the cramped cell but now it was for much nicer reasons and the warmth and the hand in Matt’s hair made Matt’s stomach do flips)

The kiss breaks when the two are flushed a nice pink and Matt’s lips are sore and tingly in the best way. It’s the kind of pain he wants to hold onto for as long as he can. Something to help ground this moment in his memory forever.  

“So long” he hears shiro whisper, almost with more care than before.  Their voices, quiet to preserve what perceived privacy they have in this mass cell, have taken on a new fondness meant only to be share by the two of them.

“Saying goodbye to me already?”

Shiro had them backed up into a corner, the closest to the door on the left. His left arm held around Matt’s waist while his hand continued its ministrations in his hair and his knee braced against Matt’s back. Matt took to this new position and wrapped his arms around Shiro’s neck, touching his forehead to his.. Lover? (Way too soon.) Best friend? (Think you just established it’s a bit more than that.) His Shiro. (Good enough.)

“Matt” Shiro groaned likely at what was Matt’s ability to pun even at a time like this. Captured by aliens - aliens- just coming down from a panic attack and the most amazing makeout session in the history of makeout sessions.

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to leave me Takashi, you better do it properly. I never expected you’d be the Wham-Bham Thank You Man kind of guy Kiss ‘em and Leave ‘em type but I mea-”

“Matthew.”

“Takashi.”

There was a moment of silence between them as they just stared back into each other's eyes, almost challenging. For half a second Matt thought it would end in another kiss. But then Shiro softened.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well that’s good.” Matt slid down shiro’s lap a little and laid his head on his neck. The room was dark and crying and panicking and emotions were exhausting. Shiro’s warmth was comforting. Shiro was comforting. The room was still smelly and Matt still wanted his dad. He wanted to be back on their ship and to be collecting the ice crystals of Kerberos like they were supposed to be. He’d even rather be still dancing around his feelings for his best friend if it meant they were all home and safe.

“I mean it Matt. I’m here, with you. I don’t, I don’t want you to think that this was just because we got captured, or because things aren’t looking so great. We are going to get out of this. We will be okay and we will do it together. I’ll get you out of this. I promise Matt.”  Shiro’s voice never rose above a gentle whisper. A soothing hum in Matt’s ear as Shiro’s right hand traced patterns  down Matt’s spine. Matt tried so hard not to tear up again. “I promise Matt, I’ll save you. Every time. I’ll get you home. I’ll keep you safe.”

Matt wasn’t sure what to say anymore. If he should say anything. It didn’t really feel like their odds of surviving this nightmare, let alone escaping it were really that great. Not impossible, but not in the favor. But this was Shiro. If Shiro needed to believe they could do it, maybe he could let him believe. Maybe believing, hoping, is better than assuming the worst. Matt let the silence ring out another second before he answered.

“I know Shiro.  You’ve already saved me from myself today, and given the best security blanket I could have asked for.” Matt snuggled tighter into Shiro with his words but didn’t lift his head off his chest. “I have total confidence you’ll find a way out. I have total confidence in you.”

***

+1

Shiro’s been a Paladin of Voltron for some time now. In that time he’s seen his fair share of things, been plenty of places. Before that he was a prisoner of Zarkon and the galra. The Champion. A title he earned protecting someone he cared about more than most people know. It’s not a time he remembers much of, and most of his memories of his time with the galra he does not look back on fondly.

Shiro thought being a Paladin of Voltron was a tiring job, a burden, a heap of responsibility piled on too much pain and PTSD and there were so many days he wished he could just go back to Earth before it all started.

After everything Shiro and his friends went through to defeat Zarkon, Shiro feels lost now. He stayed because it was the right thing to do. The only thing he could do. to protect the people he cared about back home, to have any hope of freeing the ones he left behind. Shiro only stayed because he knew it was his only chance, despite the constant feeling of being kicked in the stomach.

But after the last battle with Zarkon, after being ejected from the Black Lion and sent to a desolate planet on the other side of the galaxy via the astral plane with no way to contact his team and no way to know if they’re safe, with no one to protect but himself, left alone with his thoughts, Shiro had a harder time regrouping than he thought he should have.

Lucky for Shiro, that desolate little planet wasn’t desolate and abandoned for very long. While Shiro worked on his basic survival skills, smoke signals, scavenging, for eating, and hunting around the new terrain, a small B-Class rebel ship landed not far from Shiro’s original landing site. This planet was full of islands sprouting blue and purple fauna surrounded by vast glistening orange oceans. It was an abandoned, remote little barely-a-planet-planet, unconquered by Zarkon, and a perfect rebel training ground.

Of course. It took Shiro and the rebels about three days of accidentally crossing paths before they actually caught wind of one another, thanks to similar training. After all, rule number seven of Galaxy Garrison unidentified terrain landing code states that you should never make camp in the same place for more than one night to avoid hostile animals or locals that may be tracking you.

It was the hair standing up on the back of Shiro’s neck that alerted him to the presence of another living being nearby. Then the sound of footfalls too big to be one of the small creatures he’d seen running through the blue patches of forest in this area. His “camp” isn’t that far from here. But Shiro’s been careful. And he’s checked this island again and again. Though it’s relatively big, he’s pretty sure he would have noticed a settlement.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He tried first before slowly turning around to face the stranger, hoping that sound of his voice and the fact that he was unarmed would appease them.  (Technically Shiro was never unarmed as long as he had his Galra prosthetic but this stranger didn’t need to know that)

“Who are you? Why have you come here? How did you find us?” The alien was a light blue four eyes splashed across his face and he had six arms, four of which were holding weapons aimed at Shiro.

“My name is Shiro. I’m a Paladin of Voltron. I was stranded here during a fight against Zarkon and I’ve lost communication with my crew. I’ve been stranded here for, well at a week I think.. I’ve lost track of time I guess. It’s been at least 5 sunsets though.”

“Five sunsets?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know how to keep track at first because I kept moving my camp, but then I decided to use these leaves up here where I come to collect berries see? I lay one out every day when the sun sets. You can see the difference in color as they grow older with time. These rocks keep them in place. Nota bullet journal but it'll do.” Shiro tried for calm, appeasing. The kind of charming, win ‘em over smile that the bigwigs at the garrison used to eat right up and got him elected as pilot for the Kerberos mission at such a young age. Reassuring that he wasn’t a threat.

Whatever Shiro said or did it seemed to have the right effect on the alien because he softened just a tad and lowered his weapons, stopping to put all but one of them away into the pockets of his space suit and coat.

“We’ve been here for three sunsets” he said without making further eye contact with Shiro.

“We? There are more of you? How did you get here? And uh, where exactly is here? I kind of got sent here and i’m not entirely sure where that is or why but I need to get back to my crew as soon as possible. Or at least make contact with them. Do you have a ship with you?”

“Paladin of Voltron.  I have heard of you. Big giant robot cats. Yes?”

“Yeah, something like that”

“And you say you fight Zarkon”

“We were in a fight with him when I got stranded here, a pretty serious one. We were winning, I think. He was seriously damaged anyways. I’m sorry, you didn’t actually tell me who you were did you? You said you weren’t alone here? Are you refuges?”

“In a way. Come with me. I’ll show you.”

The blue alien took Shiro back down a path and out of the darkest blue section of the forest and out towards the light purple trees and teal flowers that Shiro had made camp in his first night. It was secretly his favorite spot on the island so far because the it reminded him most of the Black Lion.

Hidden amongst the fauna now though was a small fleet of banged up ships, reminiscent of Rolo and Nyma’s vessel. Outside and all around were small fires, hanging clothes, and in the corner was a large area filled with various computers and technology that looked like a small version of Pidge lab. It filled Shiro with a twinge of homesickness and he was all the more glad to see working technology and ships with communicators. Hopefully he would be able to contact the Castle of Lions from one of these.

“Welcome to the Rebellion, Paladin of Voltron.”

Maybe he should hold that thought.

“Rebellion? Against Zarkon?”

“That is correct. You did not truly think you were the only ones resisting his reign?” The blue alien spoke with his head held higher and his voice projected in an attempt to draw the other rebels to hear, apparently this was a conversation to be had with everyone.

“Well. No, honestly we hoped to find some form of organized resistance out there. But nobody seemed to know anything about one. The closest we’d come was the Blade of Mamora, fighting within the Galra ranks, but none of the refuges or pirates were able to lead us to any, reliable allies.”

“Unlike the galra, and unlike voltron, we work with those who have been harmed by the galra the most. We come to the aid of those who need it, when the need it, and we do our best to make sure that everyone is trained and ready for that time. We are the voice of those Zarkon has wronged.”

“I think it’s great what you’re doing, I think the more people who stand up to Zarkon’s forces the better. And the better trained you are the better prepared. I’d have to talk to the Princess but I think Voltron would love to form a formal alliance with you.

“Ahh yes your Princess of planet Altea. I suppose we should arrange a meeting between us all to settle things further. There is quite a bit I want to discuss. Those that told us of Voltron’s return should be entering the atmosphere shortly then I think we should be able to reach your Princess. Their ship has the largest frequency booster.”

“Oh, okay. I’ve been here nearly a week, I can wait a few more days. Is there, anything I can do to help in the meantime?”

“How are your combat skills?”

“I hear they’re pretty good.”

“Our training ring is set up over there and some of our newer recruits are still learning the ropes. Ashbet injured both tentacles training with the other instructor and our protocols call for two. You seem a good fit.”

The blue alien, rebel leader, whose name Shiro belatedly realized he never actually got, then walked away leaving Shiro to wander over to the foreboding training ring where 3 rebels were waiting.

“Hi. I’m Shiro. Your instructor was injured in training a little, so he’s going to take it easy today and I’m gonna try to fill in instead? What are your names?”

“I’m Erock, This is Raelle, and Temrance.” They were young. Geeze they were young. Maybe 13?

“Nice to meet you guys. Your, uh, the person who assigned me here said there was another instructor. Do you know where they are?”

“Probably in the lab” Raelle said

“He’s always losing track of when it’s time to start and someone has to go get him.” Temrance agreed

“Oh really. I had a friend like that.  He’d be tinkering away on something and forget about his homework, or that it was time for class, or training, or that we had plans to see a movie. And then he’d jump out of his skin when i’d walk in the door asking where he thought the time went.” Shiro recalled all the times he had to go bug Matt about time management or missed plans, pretending to be upset when really he was all too happy to hear about whatever had piqued Matt’s interest that moment so intensely that he just couldn’t look away.

“The lab is, the big green and purple glowing area over there?” Shiro asked gesturing to the tech area he noticed before that reminded him all too much of something Pidge would cocoon herself in.

Three answering ‘yup’s’ was all the confirmation Shiro needed before he told the kids to stay there and headed over to drag their real teacher to class.

The glow of the lab seemed to be created by a conglomeration of stolen galra technology as well as pieced together alien technology from different species and makes, as best as Shiro could tell. It made for a slightly eerie effect as Shiro approached. Since there wasn’t exactly a door, just a slightly wider space between giant motherboard looking devices, shiro hovered before stepping into the maze of glowing, buzzing technology.

“Hello?”

No answer. But this workshop wrapped around the ship and to the back, twisting in circles, with small little clusters of different half finished projects set up scattered around. Shiro thought someone very smart obviously spent a lot of time here. Pidge would love to get her hands on this place. Maybe once the he establishes communication with the castle, he can talk to the guy about working with Pidge on something.

Shiro abandons his path for a moment where he was making his way around the back of the ship. It’s gotten harder and harder to hear anything that was going on out front and he thinks that it’s no wonder the guy loses so much time back here.

Shiro reaches down to one of the piles of abandoned projects and picks something up. It looks kind of like something Hunk and Pidge had played around with back at the castle on their earlier weeks. Something about messing with polarity of molecules and the rotational pull of something or other. Shiro’s attention was kind of split between what they were saying, Lance and Keith arguing over… Shiro doesn’t actually remember what it was at that moment actually. It was one of those early days before they’d all really learned to work as a team and Lance was still intent on pulling Keith’s pigtails left and right.

Shiro does remember how the device looked finished though. All lit up and floating in mid air with gentle vibrations that pulsed through it. But this one seem lifeless. Abandoned and missing more than a few wires. Shiro isn’t sure if it’s mechanic simply grew bored,, didn’t know how to finish, or just didn’t have the parts. Or maybe they didn’t have the need for it any longer. Come to think of it, Shiro isn’t actually sure what the need for the device is. He can’t remember a time anyone on team Voltron has ever used it.

Shiro was just about to put the device back. He was putting it back and getting up to continue his search. At least. That was his intention. But he was a little lost in thought because before he could move there was a staff casing him and something cold and hard at his back.

“So you’re this legendary Paladin I hear so much about. I think Nyma exaggerated. You’re not that tall.” The rebel spoke. Shiro assumed this was the teacher he was sent to find, the mechanic engineer who built of this and then taught kids how to fight so fiercely he injured the other instructor. Warning bells started to flash in Shiro’s mind telling him he needed to be careful, that angering this guy wasn’t his best idea. But he already seemed to have a not great first impression of Shiro, and how could he not if that space pirate. Nyma had been filling their heads with stories of Voltron - and wasn’t that a whole other headache to consider when he got out of this particular predicament, Nyla and Rolo in the resistance?

“It helps if I stand up.” Shiro tried for smooth, unassuming but following this guy's tone. Hoping he could bring the conversation into something more peaceful. If he could just, turn around, get a good look at the guy, eye contact could be crucial in negotiations like these. But the pain in his back just dug in deeper.

“I might have considered that if I hadn’t caught our new guest, someone nobody told me about by the way, sneaking around my lab trying to steal my stuff. Those projects are top secret and I don’t need you poking around my breakthrough pile when i’m so close.”

Breakthrough pile. So he hadn’t figured out how it worked yet. Maybe Shiro could work with that.

“Look, I think we have a giant misunderstanding. Just, can I just explain? Please?”

The guy was silent for a minute but he pulled away from Shiro and dropped all contact. The pressure against his back and the staff caging him against the makeshift glowing walls were gone, but as soon as Shiro went to turn around there was a sharp bark.

“Don’t make any sudden moves! I’ve heard tales of the Black Paladin, I know your battle trained. No funny business. Just, explain.”

“Your leader, I didn’t get his name, I asked him what I could do to help until another ship comes in and I can contact my crew. He said you needed another hand in the training arena, and the kids said that you sometime lose track of time in here.” Shiro started to trail off, hoping the rebel would start to put the pieces together himself.

“If you came to get me, why were you snooping through my stuff?”  He challenged. He wasn’t going to make this easy on Shiro.

“I noticed this device.” Shiro pointed to the uncompleted cube. “My crew built one just like it. Your lab actually reminded me a lot of someone on my team, and I was just thinking how much she’d probably love to talk to you if we’re able to forge an alliance. Pidge is always looking for other people who speak tech as fluently as she does.”

“Hmm.” The rebel made a noise of consideration that made Shiro had to wonder if it was just for show. “Alright. I’ll trust you. I mean, if you were able to turn Rolo and Nyma straight-laced how bad could you be?” The rebel put his hand on Shiro’s elbow to help him up, his flesh and blood one, and lifted Shiro to his feet.

“Probably time for proper introductions. I’m the crews engineer and I train the newbies. I get to play with all the alien tech too because I can usually find some use for it. My name’s Ma-Shiro!” He was dusting Shiro off and turning him around as he spoke but most of the words went right over Shiro’s head once he laid eyes on the man.

The first thing Shiro noticed was his eyes. He could see them plain and simple. There were no glasses obstructing his view. Just a straight view of those big, beautiful chestnut eyes staring back at him. Then the hair. It was longer. Weighed down. And hanging all around him. Was he taller? He looked taller. He was wearing a special sort of space suit not unlike many of the rebels, designed to blend in with the colors of the planet, but his once slim and lanky body that was more adept to a lab than the harsh realities of space was trimmed with lean muscle peaking through his suit.

All in all, Shiro couldn’t tell if he had hit his head while foresting and hallucinated the rebel camp and was now picturing his greatest wish, a healthy, thriving Matt Holt. Free of galra clutches and an arms length away. That surely was the only explanation for the ghost he’s seeing.

Neither of them knew what to say. Matt was giving Shiro his own once over, small traces of suspicion still lingered, but mostly wonder, curiosity, and unconcealed longing was left. Shiro didn’t even know how this was possible. He himself only escaped galra clutches with help from the inside.

Shiro realized he hadn’t actually said anything. He’d just been taking it all in. He supposed that if this was a dream he was going to take full advantage of it before it turned into a nightmare.

“Ma-Matt?” Suddenly Shiro’s throat was completely parched. He was having trouble swelling, getting the words out.

“Shiro!” Matt launched himself at Shiro. No trace of suspicion left. All of the rebel warrior from moments before gone the second Shiro was wrapped in his arms again. Shiro had never felt so relieved to feel the embrace of another human. He had never needed human contact so desperately. Even after the galra escape, when he found Keith and the others. He had wanted to hug his pseudo-brother, reassure him he was okay. But the feeling of touch, of contact meant to comfort and not hurt was foreign now. It would take time for Shiro to to accept more than a pat on the shoulder.

But this hug, it revitalized him. He felt immediately like it was zapping all of the pain and fear and uncertainty out of his very bones in just a few seconds and he was reluctant to ever let go again. When Matt started to pull away Shiro squeezed just a little tighter, which had the added bonus of making Matt laugh; a sound Shiro missed more than he’s ever missed mac n cheese while sitting in front of Coran’s goopiest serving of Food Goo Nutrient Supplement.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Matt pulled Shiro down by the neck just a smidge to whisper into his ear. A small echo ringing in the back of his mind of another time. A dark ship, a broken promise of safety, hushed declarations of feelings in a cramped cell. I’m not going anywhere. Shiro promised not to leave Matt. He promised to save him and he failed. He couldn’t help him. He hurt him The last time he’d seen Matt, he’d attacked him!

“Matt, I’m so, so s-”

“Takashi Shirogane if the next word out of your mouth is sorry i’m going to have no choice but to take you out to that training ring  and kick your butt right here and now in front of everyone!”

“Matt- I thought I’d lost you.” Shiro swallows the words but he has nothing else left to say. He has to make sure Matt understands he hasn’t taken his what’s happened lightly. He may not have remembered it all so clearly at first, but being separated from his crew, his second family, it’s been tearing him apart.

He thinks maybe Matt understands some of what he’s trying to convey. Because Matt just pulls him in tighter for another quick hug.

“It’s a lot harder to get rid of me than that. I wasn’t about to let some measly galra keep me from my hot... defender of the innocent.”

“Speaking of which, how did you… get here?”

“A long story. Short version. The rebels invaded the work camp and freed the prisoners. They relocated most of them to a colony somewhere and others like me signed up to fight.”

“How is that.. possible? How are you, possible? I thought i’d never see you again. It took a fleet of 10,000 year old rebels within Zarkon’s ranks to break me, a single prisoner, out, and Voltron is the universe’s greatest super weapon and we have a hard enough time going up against Zarkon’s forces. How is it physically possible that you’re here, and safe, and fighting, and, and-” Shiro’s eyes were raking up and down Matt’s body now. Taking in his altered appearance. Taking in the fact that he was here. Physically with him and not a phantom or a trick like so many times before.

“And hot?”

“Huh”

“I see you checking me out. Don’t worry Shiro, it’s okay if you like this new bod a little better. I am kind of jacked now huh?” Matt gave him a blinding smile. Here, hidden away amongst Matt’s glowing tech maze, the two of them had complete privacy, they world narrowed that smile and that carefree attitude that seemed just so at home on his face even in the middle of this war.

“You were always gorgeous. But i’ll admit the look suits you. You could get any guy you wanted.”

“But I want you. I chose you.” Matt said with all the honesty in the world in those four little words. Shiro answered him with a soft smile.

“Would you choose ice cream over me?”

“Nope. I’d rather have you.”

“What about the laws of physics?”

“I’d never choose the laws of physics over you!”

“Hmmm.. what about Katie.. I know you’d choose Katie over me.”

“Well that’s just not fair. Because you’re here and she’s all the way back home. Stuck on earth. Alone with mom. And Gunder. Probably devastated with no idea i’m even alive. I think I have to give this one to Katie. Just out of respect and sibling decency.”

“Makes sense. Except.. there’s a flaw in your logic.”

“What! What flaw?”

“Well would you still choose Katie over me if I told you that Katie might not actually be on Earth but instead was on the Castle of Lions and is actually the Green Paladin?”

“Are you telling me you’ve been letting my sister fight in a space war against Zarkon for months?”

“Let is a.. strong word. She signed up for the garrison under a false name, joined voltron as a boy, I didn’t even realize who she was until we were aboard the ship we got captured in looking for the Red Lion and she split to go find you and Sam.”

Matt was looking a little green himself all through this story. “Alright. It’s time to do something. No more sitting around. This reunion has been nice but it’s time to get you back to your castle. And get my sister back.”

“I thought we had to wait for Nyma and Rolo? Something about their ship having special boosters?”

“Their ship does have the best frequency boosters on the fleet. But i’m the one who built them. Look around. If there’s anything that can get in touch with your 10,000 year old ship, it’s in here. We’re getting you home, and then i’m going to kiss the hell out of you!”

Shiro didn’t think he could smile any bigger if he tried. He had Matt back. He found him. Or actually, Matt found him. Matt was getting him home safely, back to his family, their family. And everything was going to be okay, as long as they found each other in the end.

[grand-malice]

Robo Ragtime Ch #1

Inkwell Isle; an island bustling with many fine folk. From the expansive beds of blue skies, to the far reaches of hell, such an animated locale never lacked for excitement. Within this land of magic lived two eccentric boys, known for freeing the souls of its denizens through their heroic deeds and their own misfortunes. Little did they know, their trials were far from concluded. And for one other, their journey was soon to begin.

     “Aww, c'mon, Mugs. Can't we just sneak into-.”

     “For the last time, Cuphead, we're not breaking into Dr. Kahl's junkyard. Those security bots would cook us alive.”

      The Cup brothers trekked along the familiar, lush thicket, discussing their current predicament in the meantime. ‘twas not long until they came upon the verdant meadows, continuing along the path before them.

     “You know how long it took us to make that soap box car? I'm not letting all that go to waste just ‘cause the mad doctor decided to scrap it for his ‘research’", Cuphead ranted, gesturing with air quotes all the while. “Ummm, isn't that why he did it, though?”, inquired his brother. “Oh no, Mugman.”, answered Cuphead as he leaned towards him. “There's a reason he didn't show up at the celebration that day. Probably has some beef with us after what we happened to his giant robot.”

      “It was either that or have our own souls taken. Besides, we freed his soul as well.”

Cuphead turned to give his brother a questioning stare, leaving him in a stupor until finally, it hit him, “Oh wait, it was his robot's”.

      “Exactly. That guy would sacrifice whatever being it had just to save his own skin. He's a real rascal, that one.”

      “Yeah, I bet if we had our own, we'd be a whole lot nicer to him.”, Mugman remarked.

     As this exchange transpired, they came to approach a bridge raised atop a running stream, lined with all manner of rocky formations. They started across the oaken walkway, each step creaking it all the more. 

     “Look, if all you're gonna do is listen to Elder Kettle and have our work be for nothing, go ahead. Me, I'm gonna get our car back!", Cuphead declared before marching forward, determination plastered on his face.

      Mugman sighed dejectedly, troubled by this reckless streak on display. “Fine, I'll join you. But only because I can't let you go on your own. Not after you got walloped by Ribby and Croaks.”

      “ Hmph, whatever you say, then”, muttered the red one, forming a furrowed brow.

      The two continued their course throughout the islet, until the very first die house came into view. Cuphead, still miffed at the “protective” presence of his brother, felt his hand boil with a radiating orange hue, a building tension rigged to explode. He quickly turned, took aim at the nearby clump of forest, and released a charge shot with all the rage he could muster. As it vanished through the thick leaves, he let out a relaxed sigh, but not without his brother's eyes on him. “Something wrong?”, inquired Mugman with a concerned look. “Nah”, was all Cuphead responded with. It was then they heard a nearby clank, seemingly from that same foliage. Both turned towards the noise, taken aback by its sudden emergence.

     “By golly, what was that?”, wondered Cuphead.

     “How should I know? Didn't sound like any tree I've heard.” Mugman then motioned for Cuphead to come along. “C'mon, let's see what it was.” He immediately objected. “Hey, what happened to taking back our kart?”

     “That can wait. For now, we need to check out what the noise was.” Cuphead simply rolled his eyes and tagged along.

    After a few moments of brushing aside any wayward shrubbery, they soon came upon a small clearing, previously unknown to either of them. As the two took continuous glances of this untouched glade, Cuphead was the first to spot a small hill erected at its center, where the sun's glow gleamed the brightest. Atop this miniature summit was a peculiar, oblong structure draped with tinges of greenery, effectively masking its true appearance. “Hey, Mug, look there. What is that?”, Cuphead pointing to the object in question. “Don't know. Could be anything.” 

     “Well whatever it is, it's long past due for a trim.”, he japed.

     “Oh gosh, no. Job like that calls for the entire quartet”, chuckled Mugman as he stepped ever closer to this mysterious figure. His pace slowed as he began to make out finer features like its robust build as well as its box-like head. On its forefront was a mangled hatch, oddly captured in a square indent while enveloped by an alloy unlike the rest. After maintaining a fixed gaze upon the unkempt unit, he noticed an absence of vines on its midriff, a mark made in no small part by Cuphead's little "vent". Then, as if on cue, ”Hey, Mug. We gonna get going or what?”, yelled the excitable cup, snapping him out of his stare.

     “But shouldn't we-.”

     “It's easy.", Cuphead interrupted. "All you have to do is just go and give it a look-see”. He scurried over the looming hill and began inspecting this pile of scrap, sporting a most curious expression. As he noted its lifeless eyes and grated mouthpiece, suddenly the ground gave way under his misstep, causing the boy to grab at the robot's head before rolling down at rising speeds. Mugman flinched at this sight before leaping out of harm's way, leaving his sibling to slam into a nearby rock. 

     Cuphead's...head twirled from the ordeal, until a booming, metallic slam brought his and Mugman's attention to the summit. No sooner did they perceive the robot tumbling towards them than their fleeing from its path. Each impact dug through many a layer of earth, only to end when the same rugged rock stopped the careening machine dead in its tracks. Not a few moments passed when the stout boulder cracked, then crumbled into small chunks, leaving the two boys in a state of shock.

     The absence of overgrowth surrounding the robot allowed for greater clarity. Before them was little more than a metallic corpse, void of any power, any life in its circuits. It bore retracted limbs in each socket, alluding to a miniaturized stature. Despite the veritable beating it had endured, there was no discernible damage found on the vessel itself. No cracks, no holes, not a dent on its smooth surface. This pristine condition astounded the children, their faces slack-jawed at this sight. "It's...just as it was before.'', Mugman assessed.

     "No doubt about it. This is some strong stuff here.". A fleeting moment of ponder ensued between the two, after which their faces snapped upwards as they each gave a knowing smile. They then slowly faced their prize, both bearing the same thought in their unlidded minds.

10 minutes later

     “Hhhhhnnnnghh! Put your back into it, Mugman!”, yelled the brasher of the two. “I'm trying, but it's just so h-heavy.”, he grunted, straining even his own voice. “We're almost home. Just a little further.”

     “Really?”.

     “Nah, it's still gonna be a while”.

     “Ugghhhhh”, was what Mugman cried out before falling flat, his hopes dashed and his spirit quashed. Cuphead followed shortly after, filling the air with his heavy panting. They had dragged the inactive bot across the island, each lugging an extended leg over his shoulder. 

     “Look, if we make use of this thing's parts, we'll have ourselves a better ride than we did before.", emphasized Cuphead. 

     "Huh, thought you didn't want all our work to go to waste", mocked Mugman. "Hey, I know an opportunity when I see one.", retorted Cuphead.

     "I'm sure you do", smirked Mugman. He turned to view the distance they'd gone, only to discover an unwelcome trail left by all their toil. He flinched in fear at this realization. "Umm...", was all could utter as he patted his brother's shoulder. He turned to bear witness to the same appalling sight, an upheaval of soil left in the wake of their dead weight. "We might have to change gears.", Cuphead stated while rubbing the back of his mug.

     10 more minutes later

     Unscathed was the ground beneath with their latest approach boasting faster results. The same could not be said for the sanctity of their home, for its atmosphere filled with the grunts of two boys hard at work, bearing the weight of the world upon their fragile frames; more specifically, the steel scrapheap perched on their sweaty backsides. Every step a labored shamble, their every movement a constant test of balance. Such an undertaking, while efficient, more so than their previous drag, threatened to crush the pair under its sheer weight.

     As both boys laboriously carried the chrome cargo in tow, their eyes lit up as he spotted the cottage. “We're here!”, Mug exclaimed. “Finally!”, added his fellow cup. They then made their way to the entrance, where Cups promptly kicked open the door. "Okay, Elder's not back yet.", he observed, before moving further with Mugman.

     "C'mon, let's...take it upstairs before he comes back.", bleated his brother, desperate to relieve himself of this bolted burden. As they came upon the stairway's base, Cuphead swiftly adjusted himself to better grasp the bottom side of their load. "Easy, now.", he instructed as they took each moment to make a watchful step. A painful process, which eventually saw them up the ascending steps.

     As the crimson twin ever slightly twisted the knob, Mugman suddenly stumbled forward, running Cuphead's end into his face as he was abruptly pushed backwards. When he recovered, he noted his twin struggling to hold the machine in position. By instinct, he rushed to pull the robot's feet, simply to realize his efforts only extended their length. With one last mighty heave, their prize finally burst into their quarters, causing Cuphead to crash into the wall. A resounding thud followed suit, rattling the floor before settling down. Cuphead stood to see a fallen Mugman before asking,"You okay, there, Mugman?".

     "Yeah.", he answered, trying to raise himself up. "We are never...doing that again!". Cuphead made his way to his heaving fellow, where he slung his arm over his shoulder and slowly walked him to his bed. He sat Mugman down, the latter falling onto his cushioned flat. Such was his fatigue that he refused to adjust himself, opting instead to rest for a spell in his misaligned position. With that, Cups collapsed on his own bed and was out cold in a matter of seconds.

      After a period of well-deserved rest, they awakened to glance at the fruit of their labor. Wasn't long until a short grumbling was heard. "Think we ought to treat ourselves?", asked Mugman. A toothy grin took shape on Cuphead's face. "Does a pot boil with tea?", the other quipped, prompting a laugh from both boys. Enthralled at the prospect of good eats, they hastened downstairs towards the front door. Just as they reached over their hands, it suddenly turned open, alarming the two of their caretaker's return. They stopped in their tracks before an unmistakable figure entered, and spoke. "Back rather soon, aren't you, boys?" Cups gave a half-baked smile as he weakly waved, "Hiya...Kettle".