#whatever. stepping out of my comfort zone a little tiny bit today

[caluski]

ok.... i kinda get him.....

[the-littlest-lily]

30 Days of G/t Self Care

I'm not fully sure where this idea came from, but here we go! I do enjoy a fun little daily challenge, and like most things my mind went to “but how can I make it G/t?” And here we are! Just in time for the new year, a 30 day self care challenge but… sizey. I wanted to make an actual calendar thing, just in time for the new year (though it can be started at any time, it's not specific to January). Check the days off, spread them out over a longer time, pick out just the ones that speak to you, whatever you want to do 😊 Here's the guide to go with it.

Day 1. Set aside a few minutes to take some deep breaths and focus on the present moment. To help ground yourself, perhaps wrap yourself in a blanket and imagine you are in a large, lovingly grasping hand, or hold a small item and imagine it's a tiny friend.

Day 2. Revisit some nostalgic G/t media. What first got you into this? Let yourself reminisce and remember why you love this in the first place.

Day 3. Make G/t art. It can be anything! Drawing, writing, crochet, pottery, you name it. No need to hold yourself to a certain standard or show anyone else, just take some time to be creative. Even if you don't deem yourself an artist, give it a shot and see if you enjoy it!

Day 4. Relax with a word search puzzle. I made a G/t themed one for you right here!

Day 5. Try out this journal prompt. If you could be tiny/big at will, what types of things would you do to relax? How might you extrapolate from this and apply it to your real life?

Day 6. Stretch your body today. What imaginary setting could you give yourself to make it G/t? Are you surrounded by gigantic furniture in your mind’s eye? Perhaps the yoga video on your phone helps you pretend you have a tiny instructor?

Day 7. Listen to some G/t music. This could be anything, from sizey music videos to songs with sizey lyrics to the Arietty soundtrack.

Day 8. Practice gratitude by listing out all the little things you're thankful for. (See what I did there?) Add some big things to the list for good measure.

Day 9. Practice stepping out of your comfort zone a little bit by talking about G/t, out loud if you’re able. Whether it's discussing with a friend (you brave soul), recording yourself on your phone (you can immediately delete it), or just mumbling to yourself in the shower. Maybe you’ll realize you want to make a G/t podcast and we all win!

Day 10. Here's a little creative prompt. Arrange everyday items to make a G/t scene (use toys, miniatures, or even fashion a tiny person out of paperclips or paper). Take a picture, share it if you like!

Day 11. Create a cozier space today to enjoy your G/t content. Grab some blankets, make yourself a snack or some tea, light some candles, whatever sounds nice to you. Sometimes it's making a mundane moment special!

Day 12. Make yourself something healthy to eat. While you prepare it, imagine how different the task might be to carry out if you were very big or very small. Maybe even have some fun making your snack in miniature too.

Day 13. Try out some affirmations today and see if you can make them both sizey and relevant to your life. Ideas of mantras could be “I am allowed to take up space,” “I choose to appreciate the little things today,” “I will achieve great things through small steps.”

Day 14. Go out into nature for some fresh air. Lean in close and pay attention to the small details, perhaps imagining a shrunken version of yourself or a small friend exploring.

Day 15. Challenge yourself to learn a new skill today to bring your Gt ideas to life. Maybe it's learning how to code, or making your own VR avatar, or learning a new art tool or technique. It's finally time to watch that tutorial you've been saving! 

Day 16. Pull out your dream journal, or start up a new one! Maybe we’ll figure out the whole lucid dreaming thing and come close to experiencing Gt, wouldn't that be the dream~ If this doesn't resonate with you, maybe start a journal to jot down your Gt daydreams instead!

Day 17. Relax with a crossword puzzle. I made a G/t themed one for you right here!

Day 18. Try to cross a few to dos off your to do list someday. Make it more fun by adding in some joke tasks in there, like “leave out a snack for the fairies” or “prep for borrowing trip tonight” or “meet with giant friend for coffee.” Maybe even schedule some real life Gt tasks - such as “work on chapter 2 of (Gt story you're writing)” or “plan a VRC hangout”.

Day 19. It's time to dress the part! Is there any way you can dress up or accessorize yourself in a sizey way? Maybe you have an oversized hoodie, or a necklace of a tiny Eiffel tower, or an old shirt with Tinkerbell on it. Did you know you can actually buy Arietty’s giant hair clip thing? Or if this better scratches your creative itch, maybe your objective is to make tiny accessories for a toy or figurine.

Day 20. Take some time to rest. Just allow yourself to lay down in a quiet, cozy setting for at least a few minutes and have some dedicated G/t daydreaming. 

Day 21. Try out a new exercise routine and use your G/t imaginings to make it more fun. Watching a new workout video? You’re a giant visiting the gym and that's your human instructor on the screen. Spontaneous dance session in your room? You're a fairy frolicking in a field of enormous wildflowers. Going for a swim? You're actually crossing a vast ocean, or maybe a small glass of water.

Day 22. Check out a new G/t story. Not a big reader normally? Just give it a shot!

Day 23. Give yourself a pamper night, whatever that means for you - face masks, cucumber water, a warm drink, candles, the works. Pamper night (face masks and stuff)

Day 24. Make or buy something for your G/t interests (miniatures or toys, “max”iature like a giant flower pillow, fairy-themed stationary, make a giant paper mache strawberry, etc)

Day 25. Relax with a coloring page. You can use any of your favorite artist’s lineart (just make sure to get permission and/or proper attribution if you want to post it). Here's an example option from me.

Day 26. Make a list of all the things you love about G/t. It's always nice to remember the various ways this interest might benefit our lives.

Day 27. Motivate yourself to try out a new hobby by making it G/t. Take that pottery class you've been meaning to take and make a giant acorn-shaped mug. Get into cosplay so you can dress up as a borrower. Dabble with watercolors and you may end up becoming a G/t artist. Study a new language and enjoy new sizey media you couldn't understand before. Whatever speaks to you! 

Day 28. Do a favor for your future self and make a self care kit for when you're having a hard time. This could include a journal or affirmation cards, or perhaps some grounding items like fidget toys, stress balls and mints. Add a little something G/t in there too. Perhaps some kind of miniature with an interesting texture, or a fidget toy in the shape of a person, or a stuffed animal of a giant ladybug to hug. 

Day 29. An act of kindness can do wonders for our mental health. Send someone in the G/t community a kind comment today, whether it's a long-time friend, someone you just met in a Discord group, or a comment to your favorite G/t artist. 

Day 30. Reflect on all the activities you’ve tried during this self care challenge and journal about it. What have you learned about yourself? What might you incorporate more into your self care routines going forward? Pat yourself on the back for investing some time and attention into yourself - you deserve it!

[fantasticcloudcreation]

Rambling, food + body things

I'm making granola, probably way too much of it, it's so high cal that I don't even want to look at the numbers haha but it's gonna be like power food to get me through the day, I'll eat it with plain yogurt, it'll be fine 😅

I'm nervous about going back to work, heavy manual labor in the Texas heat, I haven't built a stage since April, I'm gonna be so out of shape strength-wise, I've been good about walking regularly but I haven't really been carrying heavy things lately, and I've gotten used to mild temps so it's gonna be hard to transition back to heat in the 90s... Good news is I'm 10 lbs skinnier, I got some new shorts for work today that aren't as short as the other ones so maybe the guys won't be looking at my butt all day, hopefully if I can manage to drive 8h each for the next 3 days I can get to Texas a day early so I can get used to the heat and buy groceries.

We're supposed to have a full size fridge and a kitchenette in the hotel room so I'm gonna be able to get actual food and not just eat out every day, I'm thinking yogurt+granola for breakfast, salad and veggies and whatever veg protein catering is serving for lunch, banana for an afternoon snack, and then easy protein foods for dinner like cottage cheese, lentil soups, etc.

Would love to be 105 or under the next time I step on a scale but I also have to prioritize health + body functions above that right now, but if I can at least maintain weight and energy levels that's fine ?? I guess ?? Idk I technically hit my goal weight for the year and I have a history of immediately gaining once the ultimate goal is reached so I'm just gonna see how it goes, don't overthink it, drink electrolytes and eat protein and don't eat crazy junk food -> actually I'm rewriting that sentence bc the new ultimate goal for this year is officially 103 so the plan is to maintain if I must but continue on my journey at the first opportunity :)

Motivation:

thinking about how confident I feel when I'm skinny, being cute and dancing everywhere and existing comfortably in my body; just casually looking skinny in every scenario and photo, taking goofy pics and looking cute instead of awkward; sitting on things and not worrying if my thighs look fat, wearing a crop top and not worrying about bloating after a meal, doing tasks at work in awkward positions but looking cute and fit while doing it, not constantly adjusting my clothes all the time bc everything just sits better;

working at hula, making a good first impression on the art team there, working on cool projects and using my creative/technical skills, learning new things but looking cute rather than clueless; and then show days, wearing cute outfits, swimming in the river, being cold at night and bundling up in cozy clothes, dancing with strangers, floating around like a mysterious woodland creature, confidence to make new friends and explore past my comfort zone

going out in rave clothes for show days in orlando, dancing and cuddling with L and feeling extra tiny next to him, also just seeing him again I know he's gonna pick me up and swirl me around lol would be nice to feel so tiny while that happens :) I finally got myself a set of real earplugs (last time he gave me his and then dragged me to a techno show hahaha) so I feel ready to go out and actually participate this time; also working with the art team over there, they were really snooty last year but it'd be cool to come in all skinny and confident and helpful this year and just radiate good vibes over them;

I gotta start trying a little harder with my work outfits this year, sometimes they look kinda grungy or like dad working in the yard vibes, but I'm trying to elevate my look just a lil bit and being skinny is definitely going to help. Less sweat, smaller thighs/legs, stronger + more visible muscles, looking better in short shorts and crop tops even though I've still been wearing them this whole time lol, big tshirts and longer shorts also look better; wearing bright colors and patterns and tie dye, all of it looks better when you're skinny;

My face looks so much cuter when I'm thinner; skinny hands and wrists on the steering wheel; muscles actually visible in my legs and arms and abs; bones ofc but they kind of get in the way at work, my hipbones are gonna be so bruised after one day; but cheekbones, collarbones, wrist bones, shin bones, shoulder bones, spine... Actually my spine also gets bruised when we have a long standby and I lean up against something hard for too long.

You get the idea. I know I've been saying how skinny I feel like basically since I started losing again which is funny but it's nice to be under 110 officially, it's like a whole new level of skinny :) can we lose another 5 lbs in the next 4-5 weeks?? Maybe, there's gonna be a lot of exercise, hot weather, no one paying attention to what I'm eating or wanting to share food with me, skinny roommate so I can't just snack all night without feeling weird... Could work out!

(God and then I'm going from TX to Florida and I actually can't wait to be so skinny and weigh myself on the stupid giant scales at Publix lmfao that's gonna be so fun)

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Kassandra x Fem!Reader - The Most Peculiar Wingman

Can be found on AO3 here.

Summary: You recently moved into a new flat and you’re hearing some rather unusual sounds from your next-door neighbour’s abode. You’re worried the mysterious woman next door is involved in something dangerous. Kassandra is worried that you’re the landlord about to bust her for her lease violation.

(Sorry if you don’t like coffee and/or you speak fluent Greek.)

Word count: 2568

.

Damn, you’ve lucked out with your new flat. The area is pleasant, the décor is tasteful – the windowsills could use a bit more greenery, but you’ll get to that – and the letting agent wasn’t a dick. Zero hassle with bills, minimal scuffs on the walls…it’s bizarre how simple your moving process has been.

But nothing can be perfect, can it?

Over the few days you’ve lived in your new home, you noticed some rather disconcerting sounds coming from the apartment next door. Nothing that disrupts your sleep, thankfully, although your post-unpacking nap was interrupted by a very loud thud against the thin wall connecting the two flats. Thumps, crashes and very disgruntled cursing in a language you can’t quite place tend to crop up in quick succession once or twice a day. Today, though, the odd sounds seem to be omnipresent.

The strange symphony is starting to get alarming; you’re beginning to ponder if the seemingly perpetually angry woman next door is involved in violence…or, forbid, organised crime? That would certainly explain the forceful thuds and grumbling. God, what if she manages to rope you into her shenanigans? What if she is armed?

After a loud bang and an exasperated “oh, fuck you” reverberates into your apartment, you decide to investigate.

Anxiously, you pop on some slippers and step into the hall, locking the door behind you (‘I’m not about to get robbed less than a week after moving,’ you think to yourself, ‘Oh, shit, I need to get insurance…’). Stomach churning with speculation, you make the arduous four-metre trek to your neighbour’s door. Biting your lip, you rap your knuckles against the wood.

A chorus of panicked shuffling echoes through the door, causing your throat to tighten. Footsteps sprint from one side of the room to the other, the sound of shattering ceramic shrill against the heavy thudding. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” the woman hisses, muffled by the walls, followed by some shushing and the rattling of something metal. Who is this woman, what the fuck is she hiding, why am I doing this—

Suddenly, the door swings open, revealing…oh, wow.

Your neighbour is an amazon.

Flawless bronze skin, chocolate hair strewn into an unruly braid, tall and shredded with lean muscle. Her eyes are a gorgeous tawny brown, the split second of alarm disappearing from her gaze, replaced by a sparkle that makes your heart hammer against your chest. Very kissable lips upturn into a charming smile, bringing your attention to a small scar above her upper lip quirking adorably. A deeper scar sits on her nose, and the pang of anxiety returns, but your eyes need only flicker back to hers and it melts away.

“You’re not the landlord,” she says with a rich accent and curious lilt. Your cheeks feel warm.

“Uhm, hi.” You fiddle with your thumbs, mouth suddenly dry. “Sorry, I moved in a few days ago next door. I just heard some loud noises and was wondering if everything was alright?”

Lips curving furthermore, she braces her arms on the doorframe above and, fuck, are they nice arms. Sun-kissed, bulging against her white t-shirt, three gnarly rings cutting into her right bicep that just scream to be touched. Is this her distraction tactic?

“Oh, sorry about that. I hope I wasn’t too much of a disturbance?”

When you finally pry your eyes from her arms, a tiny smirk registers on her handsome face. Bashful, you stammer, “No, it’s fine. But, uh, what caused it, if I may ask?”

The woman cranes her neck to scan the hall. “Can you keep a secret?”

Mob boss? Arms dealer? Axe murderer?

Clearly, your nervous speculations are apparent, because her eyes widen slightly. “Don’t worry, lovely, it’s nothing dangerous. I just have a pet bird.”

Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, you run a hand through your hair. Just a bird. Just a bird. Her face relaxes back into a casual smile. A fresh wave of warmth caresses your cheeks at the name she gave you.

Chuckling, you joke, “Must be one big bird.”

“He’s…an eagle.”

You blink back your shock. “How on earth did you manage to get a pet eagle?”

She laughs, the melody warm and addictive. “Poor fucker followed me all the way from Kefalonia. I didn’t have it in me to say goodbye, even if it violates the lease.” Her tone is affectionate, despite her less-than-endearing name for the bird. Pushing back from the door frame – hands flexing wonderfully while she does so – she gestures for you to step in. “Come and meet him, if you’d like.”

Everything about this woman is so inviting, you can’t help but gravitate into her apartment.

“I don’t think I caught your name?” you ask shyly.

“Kassandra,” she replies, flipping the ‘r’ in her buttery accent. “And what can I call you?”

Anything you fucking want. “(Y/N) is fine,” you manage, debating whether her flat is hot or your face is akin to a beetroot.

“That’s a lovely name. Suits you perfectly,” she winks. She saunters over to a shelf with a blanket hastily thrown over it. You can’t help but observe her firm-looking behind through her jeans. Kassandra tugs away the blanket, revealing a large eagle sitting grumpily in a cage. It remains put when she unlocks the cage, standing almost defiantly.

“Don’t be like that, Ikaros,” she chastises. The eagle – Ikaros – begrudgingly flies out of his confines, perching atop the sofa in the middle of the open-plan room. “He’s gentle, I promise.” You’re doubtful, but he isn’t making any sudden moves.

“He just likes winding you up?”

“Loves it,” she grins. “He’s a little bitter I put him on a diet since he was getting a bit fat. That’s why he’s been throwing some tantrums lately.”

You smile as she scratches the top of his head before heading to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink?” Kassandra asks, giving you another heart-melting beam. “I have coffee, orange juice, I might have some tea somewhere—”

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” She asks your preference and you state it, taking in the layout of her apartment. The place gave off a very homely, Mediterranean vibe, with warm colours and white furnishings. A few hand-painted ceramic vases were dotted about – maybe she did pottery – alongside some family photographs. Atop the dining table was a woven basket brimming with ripe fruits, as well as a laptop with a pile of messy papers next to it.

“Have a seat, get comfy,” she calls over the whirring of an expensive looking coffee machine. Shyly you take the chair by the unoccupied end of the dining table. Feeling nosy, you scan the documents by her laptop, but the handwriting was all in Greek.

A minute later, Kassandra joins you with a steaming mug in her hand. “Your coffee, madame,” she announces with a pantomimic bow, evoking a laugh.

“Merci,” you thank her. “How would I say that in Greek?”

“Efharistó,” she replies. You test the word hesitantly, wincing on the second syllable, making her laugh. “Not bad,” she chuckles.

“I butchered it.”

“Try it a little softer,” she smiles, lowering her voice, giving it a sensual cadence that made your head spin. Oh, she knows she’s attractive.

“Efharistó,” you border on whisper, gay little brain surging with the overwhelming instinct to do whatever she tells you.

“There we go!” The proud quirk of her lips is all you need to see.

Feeling your cheeks flush, you bring the coffee mug to your lips, hoping the steam from the beverage will help mask your fluster. You blow on the liquid and take a sip, immediately regretting the decision as you scorch your tastebuds, repressing the urge to hiss in favour of looking cool for the hot Grecian.

“Do you, um,” you start, ignoring the numbness of your tongue, “work from home?” You wave your hand at the paperwork by her seat.

“As often as my job lets me.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a museum curator,” Kassandra beams, evidently proud of her job. “A glorified history nerd who couldn’t be fucked with the extra academia, basically.” You snort against the mug, nearly spluttering coffee over her. Smooth.

“What time in history?” Her eyes sparkle at the question, passion shining through her irises.

“Mostly the classics, ancient Greece and Rome and all that. But I did my thesis on the evolution of weaponry.” You prop your chin up on your hand as she talks, eyes lazily focused on her lips. If not for the conviction in her tone, you would have zoned out and chased some daydream about kissing those lips. Kassandra reclines back in her chair. “Enough about me, though. Tell me about yourself.”

“You sounded really passionate, though. I don’t mind if you keep talking about your job.” God, you sound like a dizzy schoolgirl who’s hot for teacher. You scald yourself with another sip of coffee in reprimanding.

Kassandra’s eyes twinkle. “I don’t usually invite beautiful women into my home to ramble about cool swords.” You blush and set down your coffee.

The two of you talk for quite some time, getting to know each other, peppering in the occasional flirtatious remark. In her company, you somehow simultaneously feel comfortable and skittish. She’s so relaxed and easy-going, but her physique and seductive demeanour fills your stomach with butterflies.

An irritated squawk cut your conversation short.

Kassandra shoots Ikaros a look before turning back to you. “Sorry about him.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, really. Damn… What was I saying again?” you ask sheepishly.

Squawk.

“Nevermind, I was probably babbling anyway,” you dismiss, sipping on your now cold beverage.

Kassandra chuckles softly. “Don’t be silly, you have the voice of an angel. You could read me the dictionary and I’d still be interested.” She probably said this to every woman she took a liking to, but you can’t bring yourself to care, far too flustered and feeling, for once, special.

Squawk.

Her eye practically twitches in anger as Ikaros flies over to the windowsill, makes unwavering eye-contact with his owner, and shits on the wood.

Kassandra looks like she wants to be euthanised.

“My god,” she mutters as you burst out laughing. She awkwardly rubs the back of her neck and grimaces, mouth parted as if trying to form some kind of apology for her eagle’s behaviour.

“I’m guessing you’re used to being the only one doing the flustering?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

Her disgraced expression shifted back to a playful one. “If I say yes, do I sound like a whore?”

Grinning, you shake your head. “A little cocky, perhaps.”

“I’ll take cocky.” She winks and gets up. “Your coffee is probably cold, can I get you a fresh one?”

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m fine.”

“The finest,” she smirks.

“Real smooth,” you roll your eyes, smiling regardless.

Ikaros caws from the windowsill, as if mocking Kassandra’s advances. Once again, her effortless charm dissolves into a look of frustration. She grabs kitchen towels and a bottle of disinfectant from by the sink and walks over to the window, nudging the eagle so he’d move out of the way. “Maláka,” she groans, cleaning up the mess from the surface. “Μη μου το χαλάς αυτό,” she mutters to Ikaros, earning a confused look. Kassandra sighs. “Usually I wait until after the first date before introducing a beautiful lady to this little shit. That way people don’t immediately think I’m just a weird bird lesbian.”

Testing the waters, you remark, “I happen to quite fancy women with an affinity for animals.” You bite your lip and add, “And, well, you’re…very attractive.”

Smugly, Kassandra finishes disinfecting the windowsill and walks to the kitchen with a little more vigour, your compliment proving to be an ego boost.

Once again deprived of attention, Ikaros decides to flap over and join you at the table. Instinctively, you flinch as the large bird flies in your direction, but all he does is stare at you, trying to analyse the stranger in his home.

“Does – does he bite?” you ask, hesitantly standing up.

Kassandra discards the kitchen towel in the bin, washing her hands. “No, he’s very kind to everyone who isn’t me.” She flashes you a wicked grin. “I only bite when asked.”

Stammering, you choke on air, struggling to find a response. Ikaros gives her a disappointed look.

“Shit, too forward?”

You shake your head. “Not at all,” you blush. “I’ve just…never met anyone quite like you before.” Ikaros seemingly gives you a judgemental leer, and you swiftly find yourself adding, “I-in a good way, that is!”

“Oh?” Her brow is upturned, her interest piqued.

“It’s…exciting.” The eagle shuffles towards you and nuzzles your hand, apparently deciding you’re worthy of his affections. The dark feathers atop his head are surprisingly soft to touch. Smiling, you give his head a few pats, inhibitions to the wind when cute little coos vibrate from his throat. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“I think it’s adorable,” Kassandra says softly.

You look up. “Really?”

“Really.” She joins the two of you and plucks a damson from the fruit bowl, feeding it to Ikaros while you pet him. “You’re the loveliest person to have ever set foot in this building, that’s for sure.”

Ikaros cocks his head in agreement. His beady eyes meet yours, damson juice dribbling from his beak. Do it, he’s silently telling you.

Screw it, let’s shoot our shot.

You clear your throat, mustering up some courage. “Are you free next weekend?”

Kassandra beams amorously. “I was about to ask you the same thing,” she grins. “How does dinner sound?”

Fuck yes. “Really good,” you blurt out excitedly.

“There’s this great Persian restaurant a couple streets over. I’ll book us a table?”

You gasp, having seen the building on the drive when you were moving in. “The place with the garden and the pretty lights, right?”

“That’s the one.”

“Sounds amazing.” Red in the face and heart pounding, your eyes dart about the apartment, fearing that you’ll combust if you look at Kassandra any longer. They settle on Ikaros, who gently butts his head against your hand, almost like a fist-bump. “Well, uh, I have a home insurance company to ring up, so I should probably get going,” you stutter.

“I won’t keep you, then,” Kassandra says, a tinge of disappointment in her tone. Ikaros squawks sadly.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

“It was my pleasure. Thank you for staying,” she winks. The eagle coos in agreement. You give him one last pat before walking to the front door.

“Oh, before you leave, there is something you should know…” Kassandra calls, moving over to you. She delicately takes your hand, frying your brain, and leans down to your ear. You feel faint. Lowly, she whispers, “…Our Hermes guy likes to drop-kick our parcels.”

Snorting, you look up at her in disbelief. I mean, what was I expecting? A kiss? Get a grip, woman. Kassandra laughs at your expression. “Use the amazon locker down the road instead.”

“You’re amazing,” you murmur, grinning. “I’ll probably see you before next weekend, but bye, I guess?”

“Chaire,” she bids softly, opening the door for you.

When the door closes behind you, you let out a ragged breath, excitement coursing through your veins.

You are so glad you moved here.

.

( The Greek clause is meant to say "Don't blow this for me" but I used 5 different translators and all 5 came back with slightly different things and I sort of ip-dip-doo'd it and chose one at random...sorry. )

[lunar-wandering]

“hey google? whats social interaction?”

two fics in one day hell yeah. this time it’s for an AU i don’t think i’ve talked about here, called the Shy!Wukong AU, in which 500 years of isolation had the consequence of absolutely destroying Wukong’s social skills and confidence.

Word Count: 3.4k

Read on Ao3

-

When MK arrived on Flower Fruit Mountain that afternoon, it was quiet. He walked around for a few minutes, enjoying the silence, a big difference from the constant sound of the city, before sighing.

He walked over and leaned against a tree, barely hearing the soft intake of breath from behind it.

"I know you're there, Monkey King." He sighed again, taking the staff out and twirling it. "I could see your tail y'know."

Wukong slowly emerged from behind him, walking around the tree to stand just outside of MK's reach. MK purposefully didn't look at him, but out of the corner of his eye he could see that his mentor was avoiding eye contact.

"Ah, uh, yeah uh, hey bud." Wukong said, "I uh, didn't know you were here-"

"You were meant to come hang out with me and my friends today." MK said, and Wukong slumped. "I understand having some days were you're just not up for interacting, but this is the third time. ...Why won't you interact with my friends?"

He asked this as gently as he could, but still Wukong shrunk back a little.

"They....they can sense weakness..." Wukong muttered, and now MK did look at him, with confusion.

"Wh- no they don't- well, Mei might, but still." He pushed off the tree, turning to face Wukong fully. "You seriously need to get some more social interaction- it'll help you be more confident again!"

Wukong opened his mouth as though to speak-

"Fighting Macaque that one time doesn't count as social interaction." MK deadpanned, watching unimpressed as Wukong nervously scratched the side of his face. "....Tell you what, if you come with me and Mei shopping tomorrow, I'll get off your case for a week. Does that sound okay?" 

"...Yeah..." Wukong quietly gave his assent, and MK beamed.

"Great! Now, are we going to do training?"

"I didn't plan anything out though...."

"That's okay, we can just spar!"

-

Wukong was 20 minutes late.

MK glanced at his watch again just to make sure that he was reading the time right, before looking back over to Mei. She was playing some game or other on her phone, looking bored.

"Y'know, I'm starting to think Mr. Monkey King might be scared of me." Mei said after another minute went by with still no sign of Wukong.

"Honestly, you might not be too far off from the truth there." MK admitted, "I was half expecting him to at least send a clone, but he must know that I catch on to that immediately now."

"Do you think he's alright?" Mei put her phone back in her pocket, now glancing at the sky with concern. "Like, he didn't freak too much over it and hole himself up in his room or something again, did he?"

"No, he's already met you once, so I don't think it'd be that bad again." MK pulled the staff out of his pocket, contemplating for a moment. "...Hey Mei, how would you like a trip to Flower Fruit Mountain?"

"I would love to." Mei smirked, before turning around and entering the mall, grabbing hold of the back of MK's hoodie to drag him in along with her. "But first, we're gonna need some supplies!"

-

When MK and Mei arrived on Flower Fruit Mountain, it was once again quiet.

"Okay." MK shifted the bag he was carrying on his arm, adjusting his grip. "He's probably up in his little house behind the waterfall. He probably knows we're here by now, so..."

"So all we have to do is find him." Mei finished, "Don't worry MK, I remember the plan."

"Right. Okay." They passed through the water fall, walking through the cave. Standing in front of Wukong's door, MK set his bag on the ground in order to lift his arm and knock.

One of the younger monkeys opened the door.

"Hey there!" MK said, "Is Monkey King here?"

The tiny monkey chitters out a response MK interprets as yes, moving aside to let Mei and MK through. Mei easily finds her way into the kitchen, and MK can hear the clattering of some pots and pans as she shuffles things around (they'd bought some hot chocolate, and apparently Mei refused to wait any longer before making it). MK, meanwhile, sets his bag down by the door and starts looking for Wukong.

It ends up not being very hard really, as he finds his mentor laying on the couch, a blanket pulled over top of his head, his tail poking out and resting on the floor, stiff.

...Too stiff.

"Monkey King?" MK asks, and he sees the fur on Wukong's tail bristle, but yet the monkey himself doesn't move. "I know you're awake."

Wukong says something entirely incoherent.

"Me and Mei are here to have a sleepover, if you're wondering." MK says, "Since you didn't come shopping with us."

There's no response.

Suddenly Mei curses, and there's a loud clatter in the kitchen. MK turns, suitably distracted.

"Y'alright?" He yells.

"Fine! Monkey King just has horrible sorting skills is all!" Is the response he gets, and MK quietly chuckles because, well, she's not wrong.

When he turns back around, Wukong is out from under the blanket, standing up, his usual nervous smile plastered on his face.

...But something's off. His back is too straight, for one, the Monkey King that MK knows is normally slightly slouched. The look in his eyes doesn't show shyness either, rather an attempt at faking being shy.

MK makes his deduction in less than a second.

"You're a clone aren't you."

"Oh thank heavens." The Wukong clone, relaxes just slightly, the nervous smile slipping off in favor of a more relaxed, natural one. (One that, notably, MK has only seen on Wukong's clones. Well, he thinks he saw his mentors real smile once, but Wukong had left rather fast after that, so MK had never been actually sure.) "I wasn't sure how long I could pretend to be nervous for."

"He's trying to bail again, huh." MK said, not even surprised, having mostly known this would happen. 500 years by himself had really taken it's toll on the Monkey King, MK still wasn't sure how exactly Wukong had lost his confidence, but the consequences of whatever it was were fairly obvious. It had taken forever for MK to actually get his mentor to just have normal conversations with him instead of just leaving him sticky notes with instructions on them. During that time, Wukong had run away from MK *multiple* times.

Well, not tonight. MK personally respected Wukong's lack of knowledge on how to be social, and knew first hand the experience of not feeling up to interacting with people. But if Wukong didn't at least try to step over his comfort zone, then he'd never become confident again.

Wukong's clone seemed to have the same idea, as he turned, walking off down a hallway. MK heard a door open- followed by a yelp of betrayal, and then the clone was back, carrying a flustered Monkey King over his shoulder, dumping him onto the couch before vanishing, just as Mei entered the living room with a tray covered in candies, as well as three mugs of hot chocolate.

"Did I miss anything?" She asks, setting the tray down on the coffee table, before sitting on the couch to the left of Wukong. The Monkey King actually squeaked, shifting to move to the other side, only to be stopped by MK sitting on his right. Almost as though they'd planned it, they both leaned up against Wukong simultaneously, feeling how he stiffened at the sudden contact.

"Did you get the remote?" Mei asked, sipping at her hot chocolate.

"Yep." MK held the remote up with one hand, easily accessing Wukong's Netflix account. (He'd accidentally stumbled upon the password one of the times the monkeys had shoved him into the house in an attempt to help him interact with Wukong.) "What do you want to watch?"

"Hm, dunno. What do you think, Mr. Monkey King?"

Wukong didn't respond. He still hadn't relaxed either. His eyes looked slightly unfocused, and MK could practically hear the computer crashing noises.

Jeez. Wukong was a lot more touch-starved than he had thought.

And then Wukong moved, sliding down a little, covering his face with his hands. Mei and MK shared a look of concern.

Maybe this much contact was a bit too much to start?

MK leaned away from Wukong, putting just the slightest bit of distance between them, Mei following his lead soon after.

They were both quiet for a moment, silently considering what to do next as Wukong continued to not look at them.

...And then Mei grabbed the pillow behind her, slowly raising it over her head.

MK barely had the time to register what she was doing before the pillow smacked him in the face.

Mei burst out laughing at MK's surprised look, jumping up off the couch, pulling more pillows out of...somewhere. MK hadn't seen her grab them, but they were certainly there now.

He ducked down, sliding off the couch as a pillow soared over his head, flopping against the couch cushions, having not met it's target. He barely managed to shift out of the way of a second pillow, catching a third before it could hit him in the chest.

"Oh it is on!" He cheered, spinning around before throwing the pillow at Mei as hard as he could.

Soon enough the pillow fight increased to all out warfare, more pillows seemingly appearing out of nowhere. MK laughed, nearly forgetting about Wukong-

And then a pillow hit him in the back of the head.

Both he and Mei paused, knowing for a fact that Mei hadn't thrown it, she was in front of him, getting him from behind was impossible.

MK turned around just in time to see Wukong create another pillow out of one of his hairs and throw it.

When MK pulled the pillow off of his face, he was greeted with Wukong's nervous smile, and a bit of anxious laughter.

MK glanced at Mei.

Well. This wasn't exactly the way they had planned to help Wukong come out of his shell a bit, but it could work.

-

Sleepovers became more frequent after that. Typically they ended up with just a pillow fight, but still, it was some progress, however small.

MK and his friends were more than content to take things slow, let Wukong relearn how to socially interact and overcome his shyness the normal way.

And then New Years happened.

Wukong was still definitely not comfortable interacting with anyone other than Mei, MK, and Sandy, but he did start showing up a bit more frequently. (MK had noticed that Wukong tried his hardest to be more confident around Pigsy. He wasn't sure as to why Wukong did so, but he did. Pigsy himself seemed concerned about it as well, but for the most part let it slide). MK sometimes couldn't help but feel that his mentor seemed a bit...worried about something. But whenever he asked, Wukong would just clam up, sometimes even going so far as to distract MK before teleporting away.

But whatever. It was fine, they were making progress. Wukong was actually somewhat talking to people now, albeit he was still quiet, and easily flustered at the smallest of things. (Tang had briefly mentioned how impressive Wukong's feats were in an offhand sentence, and the Monkey King had practically shut down for an entire half an hour.)

...Unlike MK and the others however, Demon Bull King was more than slightly concerned.

The New Years Incident had been his first time seeing the Monkey King since 500 years ago, and needless to say, he was not what he expected.

He remembered Wukong being boastful, confident, easily coming up with snarky quips left and right.

So it was definitely a shock when, instead of annoyingly chatting or created stupid jokes while captured by Spider Queen, Wukong had simply sat there, quiet, a light blush dusting his face as he sulked, embarrassed over having gotten caught.

Demon Bull King could only wonder what in the world could've happened that would've rendered the Monkey King so shy.

He'd shared his concerns with his family, of course, in a roundabout, thinly veiled way. (He had been fairly certain that the monkey of the conversation had actually been spying on them at the time). Princess Iron Fan had commented about seeing Red Son in a slightly similar state, considering how he never could seem to hold an actual conversation with MK or Mei, instead always challenging them to a battle. (She was concerned, for her son. She'd known that staying in his lab, working on inventions day in and day out would definitely be bad for his social skills, but Red Son had been so stubborn at the time that there'd been nothing she could do.)

Red Son, of course, entirely missed hearing the conversation about himself.

He did however, hear the one about Wukong.

Which, of course, led to-

"Wake up, simian!"

Wukong startled, rolling out of bed, falling to the floor, his blankets falling on top of him and obscuring his vision. He scrambled for a minute, trying to get his bearings as he struggled with the blankets, trying to clear his vision.

A light laugh made him freeze, suddenly glad for the blankets covering him as he felt his face flush as he realized he wasn't alone.

"Seriously? This is the great, powerful Monkey King everyone is afraid of?"

It took a moment for him to place the voice, slowly lifting the blankets up, keeping his head hung low as he checked to make sure.

Bright red jacket. The faint smell of smoke.

Red Son.

Wukong looked away, trying to pull up every inch of confidence he'd regained.

"....How'd you get into my house?" Is what he ended up saying, and he mentally patted himself on the back for not having his voice break mid sentence.

"Please, it's not like it's that difficult."

"There's a whole entire waterfall sealing the place."

"Which is very easy to by pass if you know how."

Wukong couldn't come up with a response for that, instead forcing himself to stand up, trying to put a normal smile on his face, but knowing it would probably only end up being his usual nervous one.

"Uh, um. Why are you here?" He finally asked.

"Well, uh, my father is worried about you so I'm here to help you or....whatever.... something like that..." Red Son said, getting a bit quieter and trailing off towards the end of his sentence.

"I-" Suddenly, irritation overcame Wukong's shyness and anxiety. "You- you're just as bad as I am!"

(Demon Bull King had been right. Wukong had been spying on them during that conversation. He'd originally planned on going over to talk to them, but then, well, as usual he'd panicked, and ended up listening in the rafters while waiting for an opportunity to leave unnoticed.

...That had been a long day.)

Red Son spluttered for a moment, before pulling himself together.

"I am not." He hissed, the edges of his hair sparking.

"You socialize with my successor by fighting him because you don't know how to ask him and Mei to hang out outside of battling." Wukong deadpanned, "And no, battles do not count as social interaction, according to MK."

There was a pause, where they both went silent, staring at each other, waiting for the next move.

An hour later, and they were both sitting on the floor of Wukong's bedroom, both of them looking slightly frazzled.

"I mean, just." Red Son said, "How do you talk to people?!"

"I literally have no idea." Wukong sounded just as stressed and dismayed as Red Son. "I mean, MK and his friends have been trying, and like, I guess it's been working, because they haven't complained about me yet, but still, just, what is social interaction??"

"I don't know!" Red Son groaned, holding his head in his hands. "If- if only we had someone who was really good at social interaction, someone we could copy-"

"Like MK?" Wukong asked, before immediately dismissing the idea in his next sentence. "No, no, he'd pick up on what we're doing and either make us stop or call us out on it way too fast...."

"Agreed, we definitely cannot use the Noodle Boy or his friends as an example." Red Son muttered, "But....to be honest with you, I don't know many other people."

"...Me either." Wukong flopped backwards to lay on the floor, both of them sighing in defeat.

And then Wukong, tensed sitting back up, a thoughtful but also very reluctant look on his face.

"...Actually, there is one person we might be able to go to..."

-

"...What's being social?"

Wukong and Red Son both looked at their last hope of a savior in dismay.

Macaque stared back with an equivalent amount of confusion.

The three of them sat in the middle of a small park, partially hidden from passerby by a line of bushes. Macaque wasn't even entirely sure how he'd gotten there, and wasn't even close to having a clue as to what was going on.

"What do you mean you don't know- you socialize literally every day!" Wukong threw his hands up into the air, in a mixture of anger and defeat.

"You alone are literally responsible for over half of the city's parties." Red Son added, "How can you not know how to be social when you're the perfect example of a social butterfly?"

"I don't know." Macaque shrugged. If anything, this reaction seemed to cause Red Son and Wukong more distress.

"So you're saying you.... don't actually know how to socially interact?"

"Uh, no?" Macaque leaned back, crossing his arms. "I kinda just go along with whatever happens so- wait why are you crying."

Red Son looked to his left to see that, oh, uh, Wukong was crying. He didn't seem like he wanted to be, if the way he was hiding his face behind his hands and trying to muffle his sobs was any indication, but he definitely was.

"You were our last hope of understanding social interaction." Wukong muttered, voice muffled by his hands. Red Son awkwardly hovered his hand over Wukong's shoulder, knowing that the other still wasn't entirely used to touch.

"...Aren't the both of you interacting with me ri-" Macaque was abruptly cut off as something grabbed him by the back of his scarf, pulling him back into the bush. Red Son was too focused on Wukong, and Wukong was too busy trying to stop crying, to notice the sudden disappearance.

Macaque landed on his back, spitting out a stray leaf as he looked up at MK. (He'd known Wukong's successor was spying on them, he'd heard him hide behind the bush. Still though, randomly grabbing him was a little bit annoying).

"You can't tell them that they're socially interacting." MK hissed, quiet enough that the other two couldn't hear him. Macaque raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Any particular reason as to why?"

"If you tell them they're actually interacting it's like- it's like Cinderella when the clock hits midnight, they both go back to being easily flustered recluses." MK said, "You've got to keep them going without realizing what they're doing for as long as possible."

"...Okay???" Honestly, this didn't clear things up for Macaque at all, but he wasn't going to try and argue with MK now.

MK let go off his scarf, and Macaque returned to his position in front of Wukong and Red Son, adding an extra glamour over top of himself so that his little trip through the bush would be entirely unnoticeable. Funnily enough, neither of them seemed to have noticed his temporary disappearance.

"So uh....wanna keep not-socializing with me at that cafe over there?" Macaque pointed over his shoulder at a nearby place he liked to visit. If he was going to do this, he was going to need another dose of caffeine. "I can maybe try and figure out some tips for you?"

"Yes please." Wukong and Red Son said in sync, already standing up and moving towards the cafe. Macaque stood up shortly after them.

Quietly, watching them walk in front of him, he thought; 'They're idiots.'

-

"Wukong, why are you hiding your face, Red Son's the one that just face planted while walking through a door!"

The Monkey King's response was completely incoherent, afflicted with second-hand embarrassment. Both he and Red Son refused to look Macaque in the eye.

The shadow monkey sighed, almost tempted to teleport away to find somewhere nice to scream.

MK better find a good way of paying him back for this.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH12

It’s ya boooooy! Malin is here!! Super huge shout out to @salty-french-fry for bringing him to life. I commissioned her to draw all of my OC hero babies, so you can see Malin in all of his anime boy glory here! We stan a trans bicon. And for those who are unaware, Malin is another name for fox in French, but like with the connotation of calling someone sly or tricky. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I tweaked it quite a bit from the original. ;)

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Chapter 12: WTF Do I Know

“I know our duty is to the city, but I can’t help these feelings stirring my heart. Every time I see her brilliant blue eyes shining in the moonlight, I am overcome with passion and admiration. She truly is Miraculous.” Eliott looked to Marinette sitting cross-legged on the floor for approval. “How was that?”

“Incredible! You really have Chat Noir down,” she said.

Eliott rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, but I still feel like I could do better. Opening night is only a week away, and I’m playing one of the leads. Everything has to be perfect.” He paced the length of the stage, adjusting his black mask.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You make a wonderfully convincing Chat Noir.” She assured him—and she should know.

“Wonderfully convincing isn’t perfect. This play is a tribute to Ladybug and Chat Noir’s triumph on Heroes’ Day. If I screw up then I’ll be dishonoring them.” He turned and gestured to the impressive backdrop of the Eiffel Tower.

“No, you won’t.” Marinette stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re an amazing actor, and I know you’re gonna kill it.”

“Places in five everyone!” The director swept through the stage.

Stagehands rushed around the set. Costume designers made last-minute alterations, and each prop was meticulously tested and placed for ease of access during scene changes. Marinette never realized how chaotic theater was behind the scenes.

Eliott let a deep breath past his lips, and Marinette offered him a smile. “I’ll be watching in the audience. You’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks, Marinette,” he said. “And thanks for coming to watch our dress rehearsal.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Sorry I’m so crazy about everything, I just want to be the best.” He fiddled with his gloves. “I’ve been studying English since I was little because my dream is to perform on Broadway. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s what I’ve wanted ever since my grandma and I watched a play together when I was a kid.”

“You’ll get there, and I’ll be sitting in the front row with Macy, Martin, and Adrien.”

Eliott smiled at that, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I actually owe you, Marinette. You’ve helped me a lot as an actor since we met.”

“Me? How?”

“You taught me to take risks. Before I met you, I was just coasting through life, staying out of the way, playing it safe, but now I can stand up for other people and speak out,” he explained. “You helped me find the courage to step outside my comfort zone.”

Her cheeks burned, but she smiled at the sentiment. All of her new friends gave praise so easily—something Marinette wasn’t used to. Helping others wasn’t about getting rewarded, and in most cases, the attention just made her squirm. She helped her friends because she cared. Although, even if their compliments embarrassed her, it was nice to know she was appreciated.

“Watch where you’re going!” A nasally voice grabbed their attention.

“Sorry!” A tiny stagehand shrank under the icy glare of her aggressor.

Eliott sprang into action to diffuse the situation. “Margot, is there a problem?”

“She bumped into me! Can you imagine if I had fallen and broken my wrist a week before opening night? How can I play Ladybug with a broken wrist?” Margot shouted.

Eliott stepped between her and the stagehand, holding up defensive hands. “I’m sure it was just an accident. No one got hurt, so why don’t you go cool off? We’re almost ready to start.”

“Ugh, whatever. Just stay out of my way!”

As she stalked off, Eliott turned to the small girl. “Are you okay, Lisette?”

“You know my name?” Her eyes widened.

“Of course. You hand me my props before I go on stage,” he said. “Don’t let Margot get to you. She’s just nervous because the show is in a week, and it’s her first time playing a lead.”

“It was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Lisette said.

Eliott tucked a strand of her blonde hair back into place, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re all a little high strung right now.”

“You’re not.”

Eliott flashed her a playful grin. “I’m a good actor.”

“I know,” she said, and when Eliott quirked a brow she fumbled to add, “I-I’ve kind of had to watch you for the past several months. You’re really good.”

“Wow, thanks, Lisette. I’m flattered that a pretty girl like you is a fan of mine,” Eliott said.

Her cheeks flushed, and she gave a small nod before scurrying off to her position at the director’s order.

Marinette couldn’t help the smile on her lips as Eliott found his mark and took a few deep breaths to center himself. He’d grown a lot since they met, and if someone had to play Chat Noir, she was glad it was him. She’d been uncertain at first, but Eliott really was worthy of being a hero, even if his costar was the worst. How could they cast such a brat to play Ladybug?

Taking her seat in the audience, Marinette thought back to her encounter with Gabrielle several nights prior. True to her word, Gabrielle hadn’t bothered them since, but what she was doing out on her own like that? And what was up with the apron in her bag? Something fishy was going on with her, but at least she was keeping her word. It was about time Marinette got some peace and quiet.

♪♫♪ I’m Not Calling You a Liar ♪♫♪

When the school bell rang, Alya remained seated, lips pursed. Her other classmates gathered their backpacks, eager to enjoy their weekend plans. Adrien paid her no mind as he slung his bag over his shoulder and followed everyone else out. They hadn’t spoken since their last encounter, and Alya still wasn’t sure what to think. He sounded so sure of himself. After being friends with Marinette, she knew far more about Adrien Agreste than she ever cared to, and truthfully, Alya didn’t think he was capable of being malicious.

Don’t believe everything Lila tells you. Be a journalist. Investigate.

But how? It’s not like Alya could just call up a bunch of celebrities and foreign princes to ask them to corroborate all of Lila’s stories, and even if she could, what would Lila think if they proved Adrien wrong? Or worse, what would Alya think if they proved him right? If they proved Marinette right…

It had been two weeks since she left. Two weeks since they… Alya had been hurt at first, and her heart still ached thinking about it now. In the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t known Marinette that long—only a few months—so it was possible that there were things Alya didn’t know about her. Dark secrets she kept hidden. But if that were possible for Marinette, couldn’t the same be true for Lila? And why was Alya so afraid to go looking?

“Alya? Did you hear me?”

She blinked out of her trance. “Sorry, what?”

“You’ve been awfully spacey lately,” Lila remarked. “I was just saying that I have an important meeting today with my youth ambassadors committee. Clara Nightingale has promised to sponsor our clean water initiative, and today’s the only day we can meet with her. Is there any way you can take care of that thing Mlle. Bustier needed for me?”

Don’t believe her.

“Actually, Lila, I have to go pick up my little sisters because Nora has practice this afternoon, and Mlle. Bustier did ask you to do it,” Alya said.

Lila’s eyebrows raised, but just as quickly, she puckered her lips into a pout. “Is there any way you could have Nino pick up your sisters? This meeting is really important.”

“Nino promised Juleka he’d help Kitty Section with their sound system today so they can practice before their gig this weekend.” Her heart pounded as Lila’s lip twitched.

“I mean, I guess I can put off my meeting. Those kids in India will just have to go a little while longer without clean drinking water…” Lila eyed her.

“Ya know, if you’re too busy to keep up with your class rep stuff, you can always tell Mlle. Bustier to let us elect someone else. I’m sure everyone would understand,” Alya said pointedly.

“And let Chloe become the class rep again? I couldn’t do that to you guys.” Lila shook her head.

“True, but I can’t cover for you all the time. I have my own stuff going on. Maybe I’m not saving third world countries, but sometimes I have a life to live too,” Alya said. “You were elected to do all of this, you know.”

“No, I understand,” Lila sighed. “I’ve been putting too much pressure on you to do my job. It’s just so hard to juggle going to school and saving the world. I’ll figure out a way to do it for all of you because you’re my friends, and my friends are just as important to me as any starving, third-world country.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that you’ll be putting in more effort.” Alya stood up. “Have a good weekend.”

“Oh, I’m sure my weekend will be better than those thirsty children in Iran.”

Alya stopped in the doorway. “Don’t you mean in India?”

“What?”

“Earlier you said the meeting was for children in India. Now you just said Iran,” Alya said.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I meant,” Lila said. “I have a different thing for Iran next week. It’s hard to keep everything straight when you’re so busy.”

“Right.” Alya’s eyes narrowed. “Well, good luck.”

“Give your sisters a hug for me!”

Alya’s hands shook as she headed up the hall. It was probably nothing, just a simple mix up like she said, but… Given the circumstances, it was a little suspicious. One thing was certain: Alya would be keeping an eye on her.

♪♫♪ Thnks fr th Mmrs ♪♫♪

“Your rehearsal was amazing,” Marinette said afterward over tea. “Well, except for Margot’s prop mishap. I thought she was going to have a meltdown.”

Eliott stirred his drink with a smirk. “She’s a great actress until something goes wrong,” he chuckled. “I just feel bad for Lisette. She looked like she wanted to kill her.”

“Speaking of Lisette…” Marinette gave him a knowing look. “I think she might have a crush on you.”

“Lisette? Nah.” Eliott averted his gaze, taking a sip of his tea. “I’m not anyone important. There’s no way she’d be into me.”

“That’s not true. You’re an amazing actor,” Marinette said. “I mean that, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Thanks, I guess the thought of someone liking me just makes me nervous.” He bit his lip.

“Come on. You flirt with everyone all the time,” Marinette said. “You flirted with me on my first day of school.”

“Flirting is different. Just because I flirt with people doesn’t mean they have to like me back,” he said, then biting his lip, added, “Do you really think she likes me?”

“As someone who struggles to get two coherent sentences out around the boy she likes, I think she likes you more than you know,” Marinette said.

“Speaking of… You and Adrien sure seem to get along.” He sipped his tea with a satisfied smirk as Marinette’s cheeks burned. He didn’t waste any time flipping the script, but it was her fault for opening that door.

“Oh, do we? I mean, of course we do. We’re just friends, I don’t have feelings for him at all,” she said with a nervous titter.

“I never said you did,” Eliott said.

“Oh, um, yeah, well then I- don’t tell Macy.” She hung her head in defeat.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He shrugged. “But you don’t have to worry about Macy’s crush. It’s superficial. She fixates on some famous guy for a while, then moves on when something new catches her eye.”

Marinette relaxed. “Good. I’ve just liked Adrien for a long time, and ever since I left my old school, he’s been paying more attention to me, so…I don’t want it to come between us.”

“Nah, I’m sure if she knew she’d back off,” Eliott assured her. “She’s extremely loyal to her friends and would never try to take away something you wanted even if she wants it too. One time she and I argued for twenty minutes because she convinced herself I wanted the last cookie on the plate. We ended up breaking it in half.”

“That’s a relief.” Marinette let out a breath.

“Though I do have to wonder which sounds better, Marinette Agreste or Adrien Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette nearly choked on her tea. “Eliott!”

“I’m kinda partial to Adrien Dupain-Cheng myself.”

“Stop!” She covered her face, cheeks burning, and Eliott threw his head back with a laugh.

A herd of people stampeded up the sidewalk right before a loud crash sounded a few blocks over. Debris fell from the ceiling, and Eliott tackled Marinette to the ground, cradling her head.

“That sounded close, we should run.” He pulled her to her feet. “My yacht isn’t far from here, we can hide there.”

As much as she hated to do it, Marinette needed to get away. Gradually, she let herself slip from his grasp in the crowd. Eliott turned over his shoulder in an attempt to reach her again, but too many people stood between them.

“Marinette!”

“Go! I’ll catch up,” she called.

His eyebrows furrowed worriedly, but he pressed on without question.

Marinette ducked into a nearby alley and opened her purse. “Ready, Tikki? Transform me!”

Ladybug tossed her yoyo across the street, tugging the slack and launching herself into the rooftops. Racing down the row of buildings, she followed the civilian trail to the scene of the attack. Overturned cars and broken windows signaled that she was on the right track, and she arrived at the same time as Chat Noir.

“Well, well we meet again, m’lady.” His flirtatious lilt echoed between the buildings as he staff-coptered down to join her.

“I would hope so since saving the city is our job.” She flicked his bell. “I think it’s about time we clocked in, don’t you?”

“Ladies first.” Chat Noir bowed as Ladybug tossed her yoyo and shot into action. “Don’t mean to interrupt your tirade, but I’m gonna need to see some license and registration for that car,” he said as they landed. “What’s the matter? Rough break up?”

The akuma turned to them with a growl, tossing the car aside, and Ladybug spotted a small blonde girl cowering underneath.

“Civilian alert!”

“On it.” Chat Noir charged forward, brandishing his staff.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir! I am Showstopper, and I’m about to give Paris the performance of a lifetime after I get rid of her.”

The small girl on the ground cowered under Showstopper’s glare, her blonde buns oddly familiar…

Ladybug gasped. “That’s Lisette which means Showstopper must be Margot! She really was upset by that mistake.”

Lisette attempted to run, but Showstopper served a ball of light at her with the tennis racket—the lucky charm prop from the play and likely where the akuma was hiding. The attack froze Lisette in place, but before Showstopper could make her next move, she blocked a blow from Chat Noir’s staff. A few seconds passed, and the magic faded, sending Lisette toppling forward.

“So that’s it,” Ladybug said, then to Chat Noir called, “Don’t let her hit you, or she’ll freeze you for a few seconds!”

“Got it!” He dodged an orb.

Once Showstopper drove him back several paces, she dashed after Lisette, launching a bus to the end of the street to block the exit.

“Going somewhere?”

“No, but you are.” Ladybug hooked her yoyo around Showstopper’s ankle. Showstopper lobbed several orbs at her before she could pull the slack, and Ladybug backflipped out of the way, diving for cover with Chat Noir behind two flipped cars.

“We need a plan to get that girl out of here.” He peeked over the side.  

Ladybug palmed her yoyo. “Lucky Charm!” Her eyebrows raised as a paper lantern landed in her hands.

“Oh great, you can light the way for her to wreck that girl,” Chat Noir said.

Ladybug pursed her lips contemplatively. “I need to go to Master Fu,” she said. “Can you handle things until I get back?”

“Just don’t keep me waiting too long.” Chat Noir nodded before they broke off.

Leaving in the middle of a battle was always risky, but this wasn’t a fight they could win alone. She just hoped that she could find an ally in time.

“Master Fu?” Marinette knocked, peeking her head inside.

“What is it, Marinette?” He glanced up from his book.

“I need to borrow a Miraculous to win this battle.”

Master Fu retrieved the Miracle Box from the phonograph and placed it on the mat in front of her. “Have you found someone you trust to wield it?”

Marinette contemplated her choices carefully, running strategies in her head. After she and Alya split up, she wasn’t sure she’d ever trust someone enough to replace Rena Rouge, but her new friends proved her wrong. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and reached for the fox. “I know exactly who to pick, and I won’t let you down this time.”

Master Fu offered her one of his proud, grandfatherly smiles. “You never have. I have always had faith in you, Marinette.”

Her chest swirled with pride as she stood up. “Transform me.”

Eliott’s yacht was empty when Ladybug touched down on the deck. He told Marinette to hide there, so she’d been certain it was where he’d be. Then again, Eliott wasn’t the same cowardly boy he’d been when they met, and he didn’t turn his back on a friend. She knew where to find him.

“Marinette?” His voice echoed between the buildings of the abandoned street, and he flinched when Ladybug landed behind him. “Ladybug! Thank goodness, have you seen my friend Marinette? We got separated, and I told her to meet at my yacht, but-”

“Don’t worry. She’s safe,” Ladybug said. “Actually, I need your help.”

“My help?” He arched a brow. “I mean, sure, I'll do anything.”

“Eliott Chasse, this is the Miraculous of the fox which grants the power of illusion. You will use it to fight for the greater good.” She extended the box to him.

“Whoa, you're giving me a Miraculous?” he gasped. “But wait, why me? What happened to Rena Rouge?”

“She's...not around.” Ladybug averted her gaze. “Will you help me?”

“I-I dunno. I think my friend Marinette would be way better at this than me.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Eliott…” Ladybug smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are the right person for this job. Have courage and believe in yourself. That's all you need to be a superhero.”

Eliott pressed his lips together, then accepted the box with a nod. Shielding his eyes from the bright light, he gaped in disbelief as Trixx materialized. “Whoa!”

“My name’s Trixx. I’m a kwami, and if you want to transform all you have to say is ‘Trixx, transform me!’” she explained as Eliott fastened the clasp of the necklace.

“Alright then. Trixx, transform me!” When the orange light faded, Eliott examined his orange and white suit with wide eyes. “Wait, is this really happening?”

“Do you know how your powers work?” Ladybug asked. There was no time to waste.

“Of course. I studied news footage in preparation for my role as Chat Noir in an upcoming play. I wanted to accurately portray the team's dynamic,” he said.

“Good, then follow me.”

Ladybug tossed her yoyo and shot off. Eliott hesitated only briefly, taking a few steps before leaping over the building after her. He touched down lightly beside her before they shot off again.

“I know it's a lot to take in, but we don't have a lot of time,” Ladybug said. She pulled up the news coverage of the akuma. Showstopper had taken the battle all the way to the Eiffel Tower. She skidded to a stop behind a chimney and closed her yoyo. “Hmm…Lucky Charm!”

“A bottle of soap? At least the villain will be squeaky clean?” Eliott shrugged.

Ladybug turned it over in her hands, a plan forming in her mind. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do.”

- - -

Showstopper held a frozen Lisette over the edge, and Chat Noir held up defensive hands as he attempted to negotiate.

“Hand over your Miraculous, or I'll drop her!”

“Maybe we can come to a compromise,” he reasoned, but Showstopper was in no mood.

“You have five seconds. One!”

“There has to be something else you want.”

“Two.”

“After all this is murder we're talking about.”

“Three!”

“I'm sure she didn't mean any harm.”

“Four!”

“Ladybug, hurry up!”

“Five!”

Before Chat could react, Showstopper released her grip, sending Lisette plunging toward her doom. Chat Noir attempted to dive after her, but Showstopper pitched another orb at him. To his relief, Ladybug swung in to deflect it just in time, but there was no time for gratitude.

“Ladybug! The girl!”

“Already taken care of,” she assured him.

- - -

Lisette unfroze midway down, eyes widening in fear as the ground grew closer. Just as a scream reached her throat, Eliott caught her, carrying her safely back to the Eiffel Tower. Her screams echoed across the bars as she clung to him for dear life, but they quieted the moment she looked into his eyes.

“Falling from heaven, angel?” He set her down gently. “Stay hidden. Showstopper can't see you if we want our plan to work.”

She blinked in shock, cheeks flushing. “Wait!” She caught his wrist as he turned to leave. “W-Who are you?”

“Uh… Call me Malin.” He winked, giving a two-finger salute before leaping up to the rafters.

Malin summoned his Mirage on the way up, cheeks still hot. Now wasn’t the time to worry about what Lisette thought of him. First, he needed to save her.

“You're too late!” Showstopper proclaimed, and Malin cleared his throat.

“Are we?” He clocked a brow.

Showstopper spun around where Malin held his fake damsel. “No!” she growled.

“New friend?” Chat Noir sized him up.

“I'll tell you later,” Ladybug said.

Malin set his illusion free with instructions to run, and as expected, Showstopper gave chase. Ladybug really was a wizard at coming up with plans. When Chat Noir moved to follow, Malin stepped in front of him with a wink.

“Who are you?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“Name's Malin, and you are one foxy feline in person, Chat Noir.” He looked him up and down.

“Less flirting, more running. Phase two,” Ladybug ordered. “Kitty, follow me and get ready to use your Cataclysm. Malin, you know what to do.”

“On it.” Malin nodded, leaping back over the edge with a whoop.

Showstopper pursued the fake Lisette to the second-floor restaurants, falling right into their trap. She skidded against the soapy floor as Malin's illusion faded before her eyes. A broom perched between two chairs clotheslined her, sending her tennis racket flying from her grasp right into Chat Noir's waiting Cataclysm.

Malin helped Margot up as Ladybug captured the akuma and returned everything to normal. “Seriously, losing your cool over a prop malfunction is so lame.” He chided. “You're playing Ladybug, so my suggestion is: take a lesson from the real thing and let go of that bad energy.”

Lisette peeked up from the stairs timidly, pacing over to join them. “I'm sorry your yoyo string was tangled. I should have checked it,” she said.

“Yeah, whatever.” Margot rolled her eyes. “Sorry I tried to throw you off the Eiffel Tower.”

“Technically, you did throw her off the Eiffel Tower,” Chat Noir said pointedly.

“You were awesome, Malin.” Ladybug nudged him with her elbow.

“It was your plan, all I did was help.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Ladybug shook her head. “You saved this girl, and we couldn't have done it without you. Be proud. You're a true superhero.”

Malin bit back a smile, surveying his suit and squaring his shoulders with a new sense of purpose. Ladybug was right. He had his doubts when she asked him because he still had a long way to go before he would consider himself an actual hero. If anyone deserved the title without a Miraculous, it was Marinette, and he owed this opportunity to her. He never would have had the courage to accept Ladybug’s offer without her. It was a shame she’d never know how much she truly changed his life. Maybe one day he could tell her this secret, but for now, he’d wear his secret identity like an invisible badge of honor.

“Pound it!” The three heroes said in unison.

Malin turned to Lisette and bowed formally. “Perhaps I will save you again someday,” he said.

Lisette bit her lip before stretching up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ladybug took his wrist and toted him off as a dopey grin spread across his lips. They retreated to a private corner at the base of the tower, and Malin returned the necklace to Ladybug. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Eliott shifted his gaze to his shoes with a sigh.

“What's wrong?” Ladybug asked.

“Nothing, just… Lisette kissed Malin, not Eliott.” He kicked at the ground.

“You really like her, don't you?” Ladybug asked.

Eliott flinched, rubbing the back of his neck. That morning the thought of falling in love with someone terrified him, but now… Maybe he hadn’t come down from his heroic high, but with Lisette’s kiss still burning on his cheek, he smiled.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.

“Well, Malin is very charming, but I think she might need someone to walk her home. Think Eliott can handle that?” Ladybug pointed to where Lisette was stepping off the elevator.

Have courage and believe in yourself.

On any other day, the fear of rejection would have convinced him to walk away, and maybe tomorrow it would. But today, today he wasn’t afraid.

“Lisette! Wait up.”

[anxiouslyfred]

Escaped Crab

Summary: Virgil loses his soul animal in the supermarket, but finds it again when a call for a found crab gets screamed through the aisles.

/\/\

There was no crab anywhere near him and that was very much an issue for Virgil. It wasn't that he particularly cared for crabs as an animal, but that when your soul animal vanishes there's usually plenty of cause for concern.

It could have disappeared at any point from when he'd entered the store. Virgil had very much been hoping that today's grocery trip would be a quick task, go in get everything on his list and possibly something extra and then head home. Searching the entire store to try and find his soul animal was a concern he hadn't even imagined facing, and he was already looking around frantically for a clue over where.

The crab was a cantankerous thing, usually found clipping at his heals and causing Virgil to jump a foot in the air when nothing was happening by pinching his ankle. It had caused some uncomfortable situations when people asked what was wrong. Saying your soul animal was causing trouble was usually frowned upon given it was the way to meet your soulmate.

“Hello! Has anybody lost a crab? We have located a lost crab under the freezers!” The call through the supermarket had Virgil going to investigate. Either there was an actual crab loose and his knowledge from his soul animal might help get it somewhere safe, or someone had found his animal and revealed themself to be his soulmate.  It gave him a momentary focus for his steps at least, rather than frantically rushing around the store.

On the aisle, Virgil could see a man holding his soul animal above his head. The crab had a sharp grip around his finger definitely wouldn't be letting go easily. Then again, given everything about the man screamed for attention, from torn or spiked clothes, to the highlighted hair and ostentatious make-up. Seriously, Virgil might do some eyeshadow under his eyes that could get odd looks occasionally but this guy looked like it wouldn't be worse if he'd just scribbled on his face with felt-tip pens.

“I did lose my crab, but that looks like you've annoyed him to much to give back for a while.” Virgil called, getting his attention and that of the people stood either side of him.

One of them was dressed as though they'd just left a formal office and come this way. They turned to Virgil curiously“Well I suppose that does confirm that the crab is not just yours changing shape again. I'm Logan by the way, Non-binary, they/them pronouns.”

“His doesn't shape-shift, Logan. It's a spider. I've told you before.” The final person of the group insisted, before also turning to face Virgil. “Hey there, Kiddo. I'm Patton, He/Him pronouns and I'm sure your crab will come over to you easily.”

His soulmate was still stood with his arms in the air, one balancing the soul crab while the other was pinched and clung onto. He was looking at Virgil intently now as though waiting for something else to be said, a mischievous grin growing at his friends words. It was obvious why since there was a racoon perched on his shoulders, looking very close to jumping down given how little space there was with his arms raised.

Virgil held out his arms and let it climb over to him instead. “Don't know what you two have been told but this little fellow is not a spider nor can I believe it shape-shifts at all. I'm Virgil, He/him. Are you one of the guys that named your soul animal or have you accepted they are generally wild, uncontrollable creatures, that could only just be seen as tame?”

“Remus, he/him, and if I ever came close to thinking he was anything more than a wild creature I'd find all my clothes turned into a nest, or that he vanished into some tiny hiding place somewhere in my flat. Cautious dude, really, but no names ever matched who he his. If I need to call him, I just say Anxious Cuddlebug.” Remus had lowered his arms while he spoke, rolling his neck around a bit.

“Sounds like the opposite of that crab. It's literally chased me out of the house pinching my ankles when it's decided I've spent to long at home a few times.” Virgil snorted. “What does that say about how we're going to get along?”

Logan cleared his throat, “Well reason would suggest that Remus is going to bring you out of your comfort zone and into new experiences while if whatever his animal is likes to hide and make nests, then perhaps you are going to encourage him to take breaks, and slow down his relentless crusades for adventure or chaos disrupting the status quo of our city.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows at that, frowning a little. “Well that all sounds wonderful, but I've got shopping to pay for and would really rather get to know Remus without an audience, particularly of his friends. So I'm keeping this little guy, and Remus can follow my crab back later or something.” He decided, glancing from Logan, to Patton and finally to Remus.

He hadn't had any close friends since he finished high school and honestly felt a bit overwhelmed to be talking to the trio at once. That didn't stop him from relaxing when Remus was quick to start following after him, thankfully alone.

“That's the best way I've seen someone tell that pair to gets stuffed ever. Call them out for pushing their presence on us and walk away without ever getting scolded for being rude. They shouldn't be so mean as to pressure someone that prefers to hide, especially if your soul animal literally demonstrates the behaviour.�� Remus bounced along, the shaking finally getting Virgil's crab to release his finger and instead cling onto a couple of the spiked wristbands he wore.

“You learn all the polite ways to tell someone to fuck off working retail. Does this mean you're following me home, or just back to my car?” Virgil asked, holding an arm out for the crab to scuttle onto him while they loaded the checkout with his groceries.

Remus grinned, scooping his racoon up. “Just try and lose me now, Smudges. I'll follow you to the end of the earth if I think you're an adventure.”

Virgil snorted, “Pretty sure that's your job, not mine. I'd prefer a movie night, watch a couple horror flicks that have just got released.”

“Okay, but tomorrow I'm dragging you with me somewhere. Maybe cliff diving?” Remus agreed far more easily than the crab had ever given in to Virgil. Thank goodness there was still a difference in the characters of his animal and his soulmate; He could cope with that.

[slowly-writing]

Seniors vs. Juniors

Avengers x Romanoff!Reader

Word count:1811

Requested by anon: 1)Nat x daughter claustrophobia, maybe Tony there too? TYSM 2) the minute little Widow gets hurt, sick, or is sad Nat turns into the biggest softy.

You were always a little bit...cocky to say the least.

You really couldn’t be blamed for it. All it took was one look at the people who raised you to understand your competitive and confident nature. 15 years ago somebody decided it was a good idea to put an adorable little kid in with Earth’s mightiest heroes, and have them hype her up for her whole life. That somebody was your mom, and now here you are.

It was time for the annual end of the year baseball tournament and Midtown Tech. Juniors vs. Seniors, and this year you were determined the Juniors were going to win. Peter and Wanda had spent weeks taunting you about how the Seniors always won and this year would be the same, how they were going to destroy you. Of course having trained with the Avengers you were all three selected to play and everyone in the compound was forced to listen to your trash talk.

“You’re going down today, Romanoff,” Wanda’s first words to you at breakfast make you roll your eyes.

“Who is it that’s coming off an 0 and 1 losing streak? Oh yeah, that’d be you Maximoff,” you snap back causing Steve to let out a low whistle.

“I can not wait for this game to be over so I can quit hearing about it,” your mom groans and you shrug.

“We could’ve all been in the same grade, but noooooo. Third grade was too important for my social development and I just couldn’t skip it. This trash talk is all on you mom,” you grab a bottle of water and a few granola bars and shove them into your bag.

“I shouldn’t have let you skip first grade either, then you’d be a sophomore and I wouldn’t have to hear about it at all,” your mom says with her signature raised eyebrow and you just roll your eyes once again.

“Whatever. What time is Parker getting here? We need to leave soon or we’ll miss warm ups,” you ask Wanda and she laughs out loud.

“You think Peter’s swinging you off to school today? You’re the competition, you find your own way there,” Wanda calls over her shoulder as she bolts out the door.

“Wha-you can fly! I don’t have any powers! This is so unfair!” you call after her before spinning to face the adults, “can one of you please give me a ride?”

“After the sass you just gave me?” your mom asks and you groan.

“Moooom! It’s school! I have to go!” you whine and it’s her turn to let out a laugh.

“I’m just kidding, come on. You’ve got a baseball game to win.”

xxxxxx

“This is it ladies and gentlemen. It’s the bottom of the ninth. The bases are loaded. Juniors are down by 3. With two outs, three balls, and two strikes will Romanoff make or break this game? It’s all on her shoulders. Will she bring her team to victory or doom them to a crushing defeat?” The voice rings through the stadium speakers and you let out a breath.

“No pressure though, right Ned?” you call out and you hear a quiet “sorry” mumbled into the microphone as you step back into the box. Wanda had been banned from pitching due to the fact that she could change the speed of the ball halfway through the pitch as she saw fit, so you were staring down Peter on the mound. You keep your eye on the ball as he sends a perfect pitch down the center of the zone. You time your swing perfectly and send it flying into the outfield.

“We have a hit!” Ned's voice rings out as you take off. “Romanoff has sent the ball deep into center field And Flash is running for it. Will he live up to his name? Oh! No he will not, and the ball is dropped as Brad Davis scores, shrinking the gap for the juniors!”

Ned’s voice is egging you on as you round first and head for second. Flash throws it to Jason who’s right behind first before realizing you’ve already past it. Jason, in his panic, sends it flying over Zach’s head into the outfield that Flash just vacated as Betty scores. You round third as the game ties and you’re staring down Wanda as you sprint for home. She standing directly on the baseline, which you’re pretty sure isn’t allowed but she’d just cite her lack of knowledge on American sports if she got called out. She catches Peter’s pass but she’s almost as cocky as you. Almost. She wants to tag you out herself and you smirk at her intention. As you near her you plant your left foot and throw yourself into the air, over her. You flip yourself over her and land your right foot directly on home plate.

The crowd goes wild as your momentum continues, sending you sliding through the dirt. Your team surrounds you, ready to cheer you on for leading the Juniors to victory for the first time in decades. Outside of the celebration Peter and Wanda momentarily freeze. He can sense something is not right and she can literally feel your pain.

“Everybody back up right now!” Wanda’s voice is heard over the celebration and the field falls silent, even Ned ceasing his announcement. Most People think Wanda is being a sore loser, but nobody has the courage to stand up to her for it. As the crowd parts everyone slowly begins to realize you’re still on your stomach trying to push yourself up on your elbows. Your face is contorted in pain and tear tracks cut through the dirt marks on your cheeks. Everyone goes rigid. Nobody besides Peter and Wanda have seen you cry before. Ever.

“Something’s wrong! Everybody give her some space!” The entire student body complies, not accustomed to hearing Peter Parker raise his voice, much less yell. Seconds later MJ appears with your bag and is pulling out your phone as Ned is pushing back anyone he deems to be too close to you.

“What’s going on?” Wada’s voice is softer when she addresses you and you grit your teeth, willing your voice to be steady.

“My knee. Something’s wrong Wan,” you grit out as Peter gently takes your arms and rolls you onto your back.

“What exactly happened, y/n?” Peter says and Wanda stares at your rapidly swelling knee, quietly telling MJ to call your mom.

“When I landed on the plate. It twisted, bad,” you groan, aggressively wiping the tears off your face as the teachers work on moving the crowd away to give you more room.

“Did it pop when you twisted it?” Wanda asks and you nod.

“That’s really bad, right?” you ask and she grimaces.

“Yeah, that’s bad but everythings going to be okay,” she brushes the dirt off your face and brings your eyes to meet her, “we are right here. It’s all going to be okay, y/n/n.”

You look between the two heros hovering over you, both with looks of poorly hidden fear stretching across their faces. They’re the closest thing you have to older siblings and even though there’s only a two year age gap they’re fiercely protective of you. You can feel your bottom lip start tremble as the seconds pass by. “Wanda, Peter. This hurts really bad.”

“I know. You’re going to be alright,” Peter notices the red marks appearing on your arms and situates himself behind you, letting you lean back into his chest as he holds your weight to keep your forearms from pressing into the rough dirt.

“I want my mom,” your voice is barely a whisper and Wanda knows why. You’re an Avenger damnit. You will not let everyone see you crying for your mom after falling down.

I know. She’s on her way, Wanda’s voice comes through your head and you smile, Peter’s coming through next.

It’s just us. You don’t have to pretend to be okay, he promises and you nod, letting his words comfort you. Wanda had learned to do this a few years ago and it quickly became your secret language. You liked to call it a groupchat on steroids, and it was your favorite way to communicate. It was also great for making fun of the adults at the dinner table.

A bang in front of you causes you to jump and Peter tightens his hold around your waist. You’re okay, you’re safe, Wanda tells you and you look up to see your mom rushing towards you as Tony steps out of his suit.

“What’s going on?” your mom asks as she kneels in front of you, she looks at your face for a moment before her eyes are drawn to your leg.

“Alright. We’re gonna get you to the compound and get that leg checked out. Y/n’s with me, Wanda you’ve got Nat. Peter, you get everybody’s belongings,” Tony quickly takes over the scene and gets everyone going.

xxxxx

“Okay y/n, I think you’ve torn your ACL,” Dr Cho explains, “We’re going to have to do an MRI. We can-”

“No. Absolutely not. You are not putting me in a tiny metal tube for an hour. Find a different way to get your pictures!” you cut her off and your mom places a hand on your shoulder to calm you down but you shrug her off.

“Y/n, it’s going to be okay-”

“No mom! I can’t- I won’t-” your breathing begins to pick up and suddenly Tony’s face is all you see as he tells you to take deep breaths.

“There you go sweetheart. You’re alright. Just breathe,” he coaxes softly as you calm down. “Here’s what’s going to happen. That big scary tube isn’t really all that scary. Your mom will be right next to you. She will be with you the whole time and you’ll only have your legs in the machine. Everythings going to be okay.”

“You’ll stay with me?” you say softly to your mom and she nods with a reassuring smile.

“The whole time,” she promised and you take a deep breath.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

xxxxx

“How are we doing in there, Romanoffs?” Dr Cho asks through the loud speaker and you look to your mom.

“Are you doing okay?” she asks again and you let out a shaky breath, squeezing her hand a bit tighter in your own.

“Don’t go anywhere,” is the only response you give but she nods.

“I won’t, I promise,” Nat is silently panicking, she hates seeing her little girl in pain, but she won’t show it. For now she’s going to hold your hand and get you through this. And when it’s all over you will be getting anything you could ever want until you feel better.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @freerebel @prizmix-and-friends @m19friend @worlds-in-words @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff

[coyotesongwriting]

Confessions - Ch. 1

Chapter 1 - Vegas

Story Summary:   You’ve never been able to deny Nat anything, so when she asks if you can take the long way back from your mission in Los Angeles you agree. The problem is, you’re hopelessly in love with her and she has no idea. How are you going to survive a week alone in a car with her?

Word Count: 2883

Author’s Note: I needed a cute happy fic with no real angst and I feel like Nat deserved it 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

“Pleaseeee [Y/N]!”

With a groan you threw yourself back on the motel bed, trying desperately to zone out Nat. Ever since you’d found your way back to the cheap motel you’d been staying in for the last week, she’d been begging you almost non-stop to take a road trip back to the tower. 

“Nat, no. You know we have to get back” you buried your face in the pillow as she collapsed onto the bed next to you.

“Please? My birthday’s this weekend and it would be so perfect.”

You picked your head up from the pillow and raised one eyebrow, “I seem to remember we had a party and all of that for your birthday about four months ago.”

“Yeah, alright. But, I have an idea. If I can get both Fury and Steve to give us the time off, then can we?” her voice was pleading as she shot you her best puppy dog eyes.

You never could say no to her, but when she gave you that look you knew you were done for. Normally you’d have jumped at the chance to spend some time alone with her in a car, no one looking over your shoulder, no mission hanging over your head. Lately though, you’d come to realize that your crush on Nat wasn’t just a crush. Nope, you were head over heels for her, and you hadn’t even realized until Clint of all people pointed it out to you just a few days ago. 

“Fine. If they both agree, then we can drive back, okay?” you sighed dramatically, focusing on the fact they would likely shoot her down and you’d be off the hook. 

~~~~~

The next morning you were woken by a very excited Nat, they had approved your time off and today you’d get to start your road trip home instead of taking the flight back you’d been expecting. You hadn’t really believed she’d be able to get permission with all of the new problems Hydra had been causing, so the reality of the situation hadn’t hit you until the two of you were climbing into the Subaru Crosstrek she’d rented. You were going to be alone, in a car, with the woman you’d just realized you loved, for a week. It was hard enough hiding your feelings from her on a daily basis, but now you’d be together nonstop. 

Nat’s excitement was infectious and you hadn’t been on the road for twenty minutes before you were singing along with her to whatever was on the radio. As you sang along, you tried to convince yourself that just because you now knew you were in love with her it didn’t mean anything had to change. Above all, the two of you were really close friends and you wouldn’t risk losing that or her by speaking up unless you knew she felt otherwise.

It wasn’t until you’d been driving through the desert for an hour that you realized you had no idea where you were even going. When you turned to ask her, the question faded from your lips at the sight of her. She drove with the window down, the warm desert air rustling the hairs that had slipped from the messy bun she’d put her hair up in. You were too distracted by the way the sunlight seemed to dance across her to notice when she glanced over at you.

“You okay over there?” she asked, a playful smile lighting up her face as she kept her eyes on the road.

“Yeah, uh, sorry. I was just realizing I don’t actually know where we’re going right now?” you laughed. 

“Vegas. What better way to kick off our trip than a little bit of debauchery,” she smirked, glancing away from the road just long enough to wink at you.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” 

The drive passed quickly, miles seeming to fly by in the blink of an eye. You took turns playing songs - well, technically you played all the songs but Nat was telling you what to play on her turns and at one point you basically made a competition to see who could come up with the best new lyrics. You both refused to admit defeat, claiming you’d been the winner. You’d eventually had to change the subject to keep the peace.

Before you even knew it, you could see Vegas in the distance. In the daylight, the city looked like a completely different place than you were used to seeing. You’d passed through Vegas quite a few times on missions with the team, but you’d never been able to come solely to have fun and you were excited to see what the city had to offer when you weren’t working undercover. 

You studied the people on the sidewalks as you drove down the strip, “So, how thought out is this trip?” 

“What do you mean?” Nat asked curiously.

“Well, I mean you knew you wanted to come here first. Do you have destinations in mind for every night? Hotels?” you’d always been a bit of a planner, it’s what made you good at your job, but that meant the idea of not having a set plan slightly stressed you out.

“Oh I have a plan, but it’s a secret,” she explained as she pulled into the valet parking area of the Bellagio, “You’ll just have to trust me.”

“I always trust you, Nat” 

“Well, that’s not true. Remember the time in - “

“Shut up! That was one time” you laughed, throwing a chip at her before you climbed out of the car. 

Inside, Nat checked you into a hotel room she’d apparently had time to book at some point while you looked around. In the years since joining the Avengers, you’d gotten used to spending time in fancy places but you never forgot the tiny midwest town you’d grown up in. 

During the ride up to the hotel room, you turned to Nat, “Let me know how much I owe you so we can split everything.”

Nat merely smirked and held up a black credit card, “Don’t worry about it. Tony’s got us covered.”

“Does Tony know he's footing the bill?”

“Not yet.” 

Nat had booked a room with two queen-sized beds overlooking the fountain, and you claimed the bed closest to the window. The air conditioner was closer to that side of the room and Nat wasn’t a big fan of the air blowing on her while she slept. It was a routine you’d fallen into years ago on your first solo mission with her. In less than a month you’d stayed in 12 different rooms, so the two of you were more than comfortable in a hotel room by now. 

As soon as your bags were put away, Nat led you from the room. Your first stop was the hotel bar where your drinking began. Whenever you tried to ask her what the plan was or where to next, she merely ignored you. By the time you finished your first drink, you’d given up and accepted your fate. 

For an hour and a half, you drank in the bar, trading stories of missions you’d shared with the others, tales of life before the Avengers, anything and everything that came to mind. There was never a dull moment, no awkward silences as you spoke. After your third drink, Nat looked down at her watch and paid the bill.

“Come on, it’s time for the next activity. We have a schedule to keep to.” Before you could protest or even question her, you were being pulled out. You’d tried to protest when you ended up in a trendy boutique.

“I have clothes. I don’t need anything, and this place looks insanely expensive.”

“Come on [Y/N]. You expect me to believe that when you packed for a mission in the desert, you packed for Vegas nightlife? Besides, Tony’s paying, remember?” 

“Nat -” she cut you off with a raise of her hand before you could even get started.

“Just try some stuff on, okay? Give it a try” her voice was a half step above a plea and you sighed before giving in.

It took almost two hours for you both to find the perfect outfit. When Nat had stepped out of the fitting room in a skin-tight little black dress you’d forgotten how to speak for a moment. The neckline accented her curves perfectly, but what really got you was the dip of the back. It came to a stop only an inch or two above her butt. When she turned in a slow circle in front of you, you suddenly found the idea of not crossing the line and telling her how you feel very difficult. 

You’d stammered out a compliment and when she went to find the perfect necklace to pair with the dress, you’d shot Clint a quick text.

‘I think she’s trying to kill me’

It took a long moment before he responded

‘If she really was trying, you’d be dead.’

After you picked out the perfect outfit and you had both paid using Tony’s credit card, you made your way back to the hotel room. 

“Be ready to leave in an hour and a half, okay?” she warned you as she headed towards the shower.

“Do I get to know where we’re going yet?” 

“Nope.”

“Then how can I truly get ready.”

“Just shut up and get ready for a night out” Nat laughed, throwing a washcloth at you as she shut the bathroom door.

Exactly an hour and a half later, the two of you were climbing into a taxi out front. Apparently, the first stop of the night was going to be dinner at EDO Gastro Tapas & Wine. It was a quick drive to Chinatown and when you strolled in, you were greeted by a gorgeous mural on the back wall. You weren't sure when she had the time, but Nat had made reservations at some point as when you walked in, you were immediately seated.

“When did you even have time to make all these plans?!” you chuckled as you took a seat across from her.

“Do you even know how long I’ve been planning this trip?” Nat smirked, as she took a sip of water. 

“No, no I guess I don’t” you laughed, “So how long?”

“Longer than I care to admit” she winked.

The conversation flowed smoothly and before long you’d ordered drinks and their 10-course tasting menu. You both had tears in your eyes from laughing so hard about Clint’s latest prank on Sam by the time the first course arrived. 

“I love the idea of making Tony foot the bill for our trip, but I do feel a little bad” you admitted over the third course.

“Would it make you feel any better if I told you that Pepper’s the one who told me to use the card and has made all the reservations?” 

“Wait, really?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I knew where I wanted to go but she’s the one who made all the calls and all that.” 

“We gotta make sure we get her a really good souvenir then.”

Nat raised an eyebrow playfully, “We’re going to use her money to get her a ‘really good souvenir’?” 

“Shut up” you chuckled, “When you put it that way it sounds really bad.”

“Just pointing out the truth!” 

Dinner flew by, and you had to fight so many times to not reach out and take her hand. Her laughter was infectious, and as she spoke you hung on every word. After you paid for dinner, using Tony’s card, of course, Nat called another taxi and away you went to your next destination.

Your next stop was a show called Absinthe at Caesars Palace. The crowd was a fascinating mix of people, and as you walked in you studied the performers. As you walked in, you saw women dressed as burlesque dancers, men in traditional circus outfits, and a variety of people in revealing clothing.

“I have to ask, what in the world are we doing here?” 

Nat turned to you, her face lit up in a smile. “Okay, so I found out about this show in the New York Times. They said ‘Imagine Cirque du Soleil as channeled through The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ and I’ve always wanted to go but I never got the chance.”

Nat’s hand found it’s way into yours and she pulled you along, dragging you to the front row seats. Your heart stopped when her fingers linked with yours and you felt your pulse began to race. It was different this time, her touch. It was different than her touch when you were in the field. There, every move every brush of fingers was calculated. Now it was a spur of the moment, her touching you because it was she wanted, not because she had to. It wasn’t just a job, not this time.

When you sat and her fingers slipped from yours, you felt immediately like the loss of the sun. Your hand started to follow hers like a flower chasing the sun, but you caught yourself right before they caught up. When you sat though, you sat together, close enough in your seats that your thighs brushed one another. 

The show was fantastic. Many times you found yourself almost doubled over in laughter with Nat, other times gasping when it looked like someone was going to fall and get hurt. All too soon, it was over and you were climbing out of your seats. For 90 minutes, you’d been in constant contact with Nat so when you stood, you couldn’t help but mourn the contact at first.

You didn’t even get the chance to ask where to next before Nat pulled you deeper into Cesar’s Palace. As you went along, you guys talked all about the show and shared your favorite parts. The way her eyes lit up when she spoke left a smile on your face you couldn’t help but love. 

As she led you through the doors of Omnia Nightclub, Nat turned to you “Okay, we have to be back to the room by 3am okay? We need to be on the road by 9 - it’s a 7-hour drive.”

“3am, Nat?! A 7-hour drive after this? Are you insane?” you laughed, weaving your way through the crowd to the bar.

“I never said this road trip would be boring, did I. No, we have a lot to do and only 10 days to do it!”

Three drinks later you were both on the dance floor, pressed together by the swirling crowd. Over the thump of the music and low hum of the crowd, you heard a woman call out for someone to stay away from her. 

When you turned, you found a woman being hassled by a nearby man. Apparently, he wasn’t taking no for an answer, and he had his hand wrapped around her upper arm. She tried to pull away from him but his hand didn’t let go. Nat and you immediately began to work your way over to her, and when Nat grabbed the man’s shoulder and forced him to let her go, you led the woman away from him. 

While you helped her find her friends in the crowded room, Nat made sure the man wouldn’t be an issue again after kneeing him in the groin and removing him from the club. You didn’t see the full extent of his injuries but as he left, he cradled his hand in his other and you could tell from the look on his face he was in quite a lot of pain. When the woman reassured you that she was okay and thanked you for your guys’ help, you headed towards the bar, Nat following you.

“She okay?” Nat asked, sliding into place by your side and ordering a drink.

“Yeah, she’s fine. She said she’s gonna be okay, she’s back with her friends now,” you ordered water, sobered up after the incident. 

By the time you left the club an hour later, Nat had had a few more drinks and was slightly drunk. Nat nestled into your side as you walked, and your arm draped over her shoulder, holding her tight to you. She rambled as you made your way back to the hotel room, and you listened as she told you all about how Clint had messed up the last mission they’d gone on together. 

When you got back to the hotel room, Nat stumbled into her pajamas and brushed her teeth while you stepped into the bathroom. The smell of Vegas clung to you, and you wanted nothing more than to wash the smoke scent from your hair and skin.

As you collapsed into your bed, you turned to see Nat passed out on hers. Her hair was spread out around her and she curled up into a ball, half asleep. With a low groan, you got to your feet and tucked her under the covers. When you crawled back into bed your mind just kept wandering back to what the rest of the trip was going to bring. How were you going to survive this without telling her how you felt? 

~~~~~

Next Chapter -> (releases 7/22/20)

Taglist OPEN:  @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark @redfoxwritesstuff​ @brokenthelovely  @collinsstanharbour​ 

[catracorner962]

Beautiful Children Ch 4

*Please note this chapter contains a graphic flashback of Adora and Catra being abused. If you don't want to read it, stop after the line: 'She watched their small breaths go in and out until she too felt the heavy pull of sleep," and skip through the entire chunk of italicized text. Resume reading at, "Adora bolted upright, chest heaving. Eyes blinking away the darkness. "*

Adora slipped back into her and Catra’s room late. She held her breath, stepping lightly. She closed the door behind her carefully, turning her back to the rest of the room. She braced for another fight, preparing herself for Catra to jump at her with questions and explanations and demands. Adora carefully turned,  a thousand thoughts bubbling to her mind, ready to slip out when...nothing. She tip-toed to the bureau, switching out her day clothes for a simple white gown and gently unlooped her hair from the tight ponytail. She allowed herself to sigh with relief as her hair fell down around her. Still she couldn’t shake the tension that any minutes now Catra would parge in, ready to continue their fight.

Catra is nothing if not persistent.

Adora stole a shaky breath, trying to calm her nerves, walking over to her side of the bed...and stopped.

“Catra?”

Her wife was curled on her side, facing away from where Adora usually slept. The blonde crept closer, settling down on the bed with care. Catra shuffled under the sheets. Adora peered over the young woman’s shoulder, her heart clenching in her chest. Catra’s face pinched tight with anxiety. Her jaw clenched. Adora squinted, through the moonlight, between Catra’s fingers she could see the golden gleam of the golden pin she’d given to her on their engagement. Catra clutched it close to her and Adora settled herself into bed beside her wife. Anger still rooted in her belly, but it was tempered now by resolve. She rolled onto the opposite side but kept one arm stretched out, her fingers finding Catra’s wordlessly in the dark.

The way they always found each other. In the bunks of the Fright Zone or out on missions sleeping in rebel strongholds before the journey to Mysticor.

They always found each other's hands in the ark. No matter the emotion that brewed between them. Adora felt Catra press her lips against her hand in a quick kiss and she fell into a fitful sleep. Finn pressed between them both, snuggling blissfully unaware.

Shuffle shuffle

Finn!

Adora sat up so quickly her head rushed with dizziness, she groped at the sheets for some sense of grounding and blinked hard in the dark. Her hands reached out, patting the spot where the magikit had laid between her and Catra.

Where did they go?

The Brotherhood of Prime?!

Who...what…?

Her heart raced, realizing Catra was also missing from their bed. Adora’s eyes continued to take in her surroundings. The layers of dark and shadow until she caught Catra’s glowing eyes. She paced back and forth around their room, bending her knees every few steps and then resumed walking.

What is she….?

Catra turned, her eyes downcast at whatever she was holding. If she noticed Adora was up she didn’t comment, continuing to stride once more.

“Shhhh Finn, you’re going to wake Adora. Quiet now. Rest,” Catra murmured, dipping in her stance once again.

“Ehhhh, ehhhh, waaahh,” in the dark Adora could barely make out the little baby, curled against Catra’s chest. It’s own blue eyes gleamed, blinking slowly trying to resist the pull of sleep.

“Told you I have better hearing,” Catra quipped, terse. Adora snapped to attention. “I heard them crying. They wouldn’t shut up.”

The blonde could only nodd, mute. Catra standing there crowned in silver moonlight, holding little Finn in her arms. So serene, so tender...a side of Catra even Adora had never seen before. One hand holding Finn’s soft head against her breast, the other cradling their body. Even standing still, Catra swayed from side to side, hair falling in curls around her shoulders as she gazed down toward the magikit.

“You...you’d be such a great mother Catra look at you.”

Adora whispered lovingly.

Oh shit, did I say that out…

Catra’s head shot up, scowling.

I did. Damnit Adora.

“Don’t tell me what I would or wouldn’t be.”

Her ears pinned back to her head as she handed the now sleeping magikit into Adora’s arms.

“Catra...we can do this.”

Catra’s tail lashed, she flopped down on the other side of the bed once more.

“You can. I can’t.”

Adora looked down at Finn, sleeping sound thanks to her wife’s efforts. A little bubble of drool puckering between their lips.

“You can Catra! I know you can.”

“You start this Adora and the baby’s going to wake up again.”

Adora grimaced, indignant. Catra rolled to face her, eyes no longer cold and contempt but...sad. She glanced down at her own curled fist.

“How are we supposed to raise a child Adora? We never had a childhood ourselves. We were never children.”

“Of course we were kids Catra. I had a missing tooth for years, you used to be a fuzzball.”

Blue and gold eyes stared at her through the dark.

“We were children Adora, but we were never allowed to be kids.”

We were soldiers. That’s all we were ever meant to be. Hordak, Shadow Weaver...they didn’t raise children, they raised fighters for the Hordes Ranks.

Hot anger bubbled in her chest, she reached out with her arm, the one not holding Finn to her chest and laced her wife’s fingers in her own.

“We’ll figure it out Catra. We will. I promise.”

“You can’t use ‘promise’ for everything Adora.”

“I can if I mean it.”

Catra rolled her eyes, turning away again.

“Next time they wake up it’s your problem.”

Adora nodded, though Catra couldn’t see. She lay down carefully placing Finn between them, fiddling with the blankets to make sure they were comfortable.

Catra would be a good mom. I just have to make her see. She might be right about the Horde and us not having a good childhood but we can do better this time. We can give Finn what we never had. She just needs to understand.

---

“Are we absolutely sure there’s no sign of the Brotherhood of Prime anywhere else in the galaxy?” Glimmer addressed the coalition for the final time during their meeting. All princesses in attendance, plus Bow and Wrong Hordak.

“For the thousandth time data never lies!” Entrapta assured them, exasperated. “My surveillance bots would’ve picked up on any activity and they haven’t since our last mission. If that changes we will know but for right now, there aren’t any signals being released.”

“Maybe we should send out scouts just in case?” Adora ventured, raising her hand. “I could lead a party to patrol the outer rims of the galaxy! Or...or go to different planets and talk to them about the brotherhood, train them to recognize anyone who might be chipped so they can report it to us! Or…”

Glimmer held up her hand, stern. Adora swallowed her words.

“Those are good ideas Adora but...I trust Entrapta that we’ve wiped out the last of the Brotherhood for now. If anything else happens we will know about it from her bots.”

“But, I could….”

“Adora it’s fine, it’s okay,” Glimmer attempted to ease her. “We don’t need you to do anything.”

Adora glanced down at her hands, curling them into light fists. She missed the comfort of Catra’s hand on her thigh. Beside her, her wife only picked something out of her claw. They’d teetered around each other in awkward pretense the entire morning. For her part, Catra hadn’t exploded, hadn’t confronted her when they awoke but merely went about her day as if their late-night conversation had never happened. Glimmer would not postpone a meeting for Adora’s domestic squabble, nor should she, but Adora sunk lower in her chair, eyes flitting towards the door.

I hope Finn’s okay…. does the palace staff even know how to take care of a baby?

“They cared for Glimmer, they’ll be fine,” Catra’s only flippant words to her thus far today echoed in her mind.

Adora bit the inside of her lip, watching Glimmer facilitate the next item on the agenda, something about supplies and the all-consuming venue for the next Princess Ball.

“A...are you sure I can’t do anything?” She repeated, looking towards Glimmer again. “I...I just...I want to do something. Tech has its drawbacks. We can never be completely sure there isn’t some threat...no offence Entrapta. I really think I should…”

“Adora!” Glimmer’s tone turned from compassion to admonition quickly. “The war is over. It’s been over. We don’t have to fight anyone or anything, for once. We don’t need SheRa right now okay?”  

We don’t need you.

No. No, that's not true. That’s not what she means. You know that.

Adora mustered a nodd, willing herself to sit back in her chair. As the rest of the princesses devolved into debate over the ball.

“I’m going to go check on Finn,” she whispered to Catra. Her wife shrugged, her sharp eyes boring into Adora’s back as she excused herself from the table and pulled open the door.

If they don’t need Shera...and there’s no more threat...what am I supposed to do? What can I….? I need to...I need to do something…. Adora’s mind spun in circles with each step.

“Finn? Finn?”

“They’re here,” one of the guards answered. Adora’s heart lifted instantly from it’s funk at the sight of the magikit’s bright eyes, they’re tail switching eagerly. They reached out pudgy arms, squealing, sending Adora’s thoughts from a dark cesspool to a ray of light.

“There you are!” She welcomed the baby into her arms and held them above her head. Finn squirmed in delight, trying to kick with their tiny legs. Their pink mouth opening into a wide smile.

“Did they behave?”

“Yes lady Adora, they only spat up on my uniform twice.” The guard indicated several spots of dribble on her shoulder.

“Oh...uh...sorry...I...I might’ve given them too much milk? That’s what Glimmer, er...Queen Glimmer recommended. I don’t really know.”

The guard only nodded, curt.

“Do not apologize my lady but please do not ask me again. I have other duties to attend to. I cannot babysit.”

Adora opened her mouth in retort but the guard nodded, turning on their heel from the corridor. She brought Finn close, kissing the top of their head.

Etheria might not need Shera right now...but Finn needs us.

 Adora’s righteous fury rising. Not enough to turn her into Shera, thankfully but enough to hold Finn even tighter.

“We can do this Finn, we got this.” She kissed them once more. Their soft skin giving under her lips, still smelling so sweet.

“I love you Finny, we’re going to be okay.”

“Adora?”

Adora turned, Bow looked between her and the magikit, the rest of the princesses chatting as they left the adjourned meeting. She spied Catra, laughing at something Scorpia had said. She spared Adora a quick glance before hurrying past them with the rest of the princesses.

“How’re you doing? I know things have been a little hectic since we got back,” Bow’s radiant smile made Finn kick enthusiastic, cooing and snorting and reaching out their little arms. They’d already put on some weight since they got here much to Adora’s relief.

“It’s been great!” She piped up brightly. “It’s been a little busy but it’s been good!”

“Adora….”

She jostled Finn on her hip, they cooed and burped a little.

“Finn’s up a lot during the night and Catra isn’t fully onboard but we’re going to do it! We can make it work!”

“Adora, I know when you’re lying.”

She eyed Bow, those soft brown eyes, always so capable of seeing right through her facade. He always had been. He took her free hand, squeezing it.

“Let’s go to the gym.”

“But, I have Finn,” Adora glanced at the magikit, who had begun to tug on her shirt, fisting the white fabric in their hands.

“Bring them! We don’t have to train or shoot, let’s just….get you some air.”

She smiled grateful, following him down the hall.

“So Catra’s not onboard?” Bow asked as soon as they got to the gym arena. Being king now, Bow got all-access to Brightmoon’s newly built training facility anytime he wanted. The sun did wonders to improve Adora’s mood, bright sun shining on her face. Skin warming with the rays of light. Finn’s own blue eyes somehow, impossibly shown brighter. Adora beamed, sitting down on the fresh trimmed grass. Bow stretched out, his usual routine.

“She’s….afraid,” Adora chose her words carefully sitting cross legged with Finn in the crux of her lap. “She’s intimidated, I don’t know! She’s...she’s being selfish. This baby needs us.”

Bow nodded, thoughtful.

“Of course they do but..seems like you need them just as much.”

Adora splayed out her fingers, wading them in front of Finn as they leaned forward to grip at them, tail on alert, switching through the grass.

“Adora,” Bow stood up from his stretch and leaned toward her with sympathy. He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Catra might not be ready to take care of a baby.”

“But she’d be a great mom!” Adora protested. Bow raised a brow. She frowned, “What?! She would!”  Bow threw up his hands defensively.

“She might be!” He admitted, “But...it doesn’t matter what you think,” he finished gently.

“Of course it matters! I’m her wife!”

Bow shook his head frantic, briefly smiling when Finn tried to reach forward towards him.

“No, no, no I just meant, she needs to believe it herself. Catra and you….you neither of you had parents that you know of. Of course she’s scared. Taking care of a child is a huge responsibility.”

Adora nodded reluctant,

He does have a point.

“Trust me,” Bow grinned. “I had to take care of seven brothers!”

That brought a laugh to her heart. She repositioned Finn in her lap, tussling their blonde hair.

“I know you and Glimmer insisted you’d help us, and you have been! But Catra...she...I think she’s afraid she’ll hurt Finn..the...they way she hurt me,” Adora swallowed the lump in her throat.

“That makes sense,” Bow answered. “Shadow Weaver wasn’t exactly a doting mother figure. Catra learned lashing out was the only way to protect herself of course she’s afraid she’d fall back on bad habits. Surprisingly self-aware of her actually,” he pondered for a moment.

Can’t argue with that, she has been working on herself a lot. She’s been trying. She’s been growing so much, doing such hard work with Perfuma. Adora’s heart swelled with love and pride for her wife even to amid their argument.

Bow grinned, giving her shoulder another squeeze.

“If you’re really determined to raise this kid, there’s no stopping you. But...maybe try to understand where Catra’s coming from validate her concerns and encourage her to spend small amounts of time with Finn. With all three of you together so she doesn’t feel alone. You both deserve love, you both deserve a family...if that’s what the two of you want. After all the two of you have done for Etheria...you both deserve the world and little Finn here, they deserve it too.”

Adora blinked passed the tears in her eyes, enveloping Bow in a tight hug.

“You do too Bow, you too. You and Glimmer both.”

“Speaking of,” Bow gently pulled out of their embrace but continued looking at her with those sanguine eyes, “when Glimmer said we didn’t need Shera anymore...she didn’t mean you okay, you understand that.”

Yes, yes I do. I understand that.

“Yeah,” Adora nodded, pulling a stray piece of grass from Finn’s hair. “I do.”

Bow nodded

“Alright, good. Now. Let’s see how many babies you can bench.”

Adora gave him a good natured slap, picking up Finn and straightening out her arms, lifting them up in the air once, twice, three times.

---

“Catra, can you please just talk to me.” Adora held a bottle to Finn’s gobbling mouth. Bow was able to lift one from his dads, along with more baby toys than one could possibly imagine and Glimmer had the palace purchase enough formula to feed an army.

They had walked on broken glass around each other for three days now. With Catra only offering small grunts and shrugs. Straining on Adora’s every nerve. Catra’s silence left ample room for Adora’s anxious thoughts.

“Finn easy...you’re going to poop yourself. Catra please!” Her voice cracked with emotion. How many times had she desperately called that name? How many more times would she have to scream it?

“Perfuma told me if I don’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say it,” Catra muttered, taking her hair from it’s ponytail without turning around.

Adora opened her mouth, then bit her tongue quickly to swallow her words.

“Is Finn sleeping in bed with us again?” She asked, a biting undertone to her voice.

“Yes,” Adora pried the bottle from their mouth and tilted it,

Less than halfway? Aren’t babies supposed to eat more than that?

“But this will be the last night! George and Lance are going to bring the cradle tomorrow.”

Catra spun, dark curly hair raised on edge.  Eyes flashing.

“Goodnight Adora,” Catra hissed crawling into her side of the bed and tugging the blanket over her shoulders.

Adora swallowed, looking down at the magikit sucking at the bottle in earnest. She took refuge in the small insistent squeaks, in the soft velvet ears swiveling every which way. Refuge in the purpose Finn gave her.

The magikit finished their bottle and Adora scooped them up, walking them back and forth across the room. Trying not to look at Catra.

Bow’s right. He’s always right. She just needs time. She would be a great mom...she’s scared...I can make her less scared. Right Finny?

Finn’s finger curled around Adora, snorting with their little nose. She watched their eyes blink slowly,

Catra does that when she’s affectionate or sleepy. Haven’t seen her do that in over a moon now.

Finn nuzzled into Adora’s chest, against the heart. Their baby breaths puffing against her chest, making the heart glow.

“There you go, right to sleep. I’m here, I got you. I’ll keep you safe Finn,” Adora glanced up at where Catra’s form lay under the covers, curled tight and tense.

I’ll protect you.

It took several more rounds, until Finn finally closed their eyes and kept them shut. Adora eased them into the bed, her heart growing three times as their little body rolled onto the sheets. She watched their small breaths go in and out until she too felt the heavy pull of sleep.

---

“Oh Adora, you’re here, come in.” Shadow Weaver’s voice dripped with saccharin amusement.  Adora crept quietly,

Scan the room…

Her eyes flitted this way and that through the chamber, ominous Black Garnet gleaming in the middle of the room. It gave off an energy of its own.

Good...no shadows.

Adora stopped before Shadow Weaver, leaning into the woman’s embrace, though it was short and stiff on her part. The arms going around her small torso seemed to hold her in a cage. She stepped back as soon as permitted, body rigid.

“Thank you for seeing me today, I know you’re quite busy.”

You ordered me to come here, Adora thought. Her stomach turned in circles, goosebumps riddled her arms.

“What is it you want Shadow Weaver?”

Whatever expression the sorceress made behind her mask, Adora couldn’t tell...and didn’t dare go so far as to imagine. Shadow Weaver had been known to invade the minds of any wayward or disobedient cadet. Though it had never happened to Adora, still the threat of it was enough to make her shiver. She adjusted her weight, eyes still surveying the large chamber for any sign of threat.

The only exit is behind me...though...if I had to, I could use the vents.

Catra had utilized them on more than one occasion, usually to escape from one of the Shadow Weaver’s more horrific beatings. Though thankfully, to Adora’s knowledge it had been awhile since her best friend had to resort to that.

“Force Captain Treyar tells me you’ve been doing exceedingly well during simulations and drills.”

“Thank you Shadow Weaver,” she kept her head bowed, hands clasped behind her back.

“You are becoming quite the outstanding cadet Adora. I see big things for you ahead.”

Her heart leapt with joy, almost enough to make her forget the nausea in her stomach. If Shadow Weaver approved of her then she wouldn’t get threatened or hit.

I could be something.

“I think it’s high time we test those abilities.”

Adora couldn’t hide her confused frown,

“Don’t we already do that?”

“What did you say to me?” The sorceress snapped.

Adora shrank back.

“I mean...y...yes Shadow Weaver.”

“Good. Now I’d like you to take a strike at me.”

Adora blinked, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“T...take a strike at you?”

“That’s what I said isn’t it?”

Shadow Weaver made a show of standing before her, opening her arms. The fabric of her robes unfurling outward until she appeared three times as tall.

“I...I don’t want to fight you.”

“How can I expect you to fight the rebellion if you can’t even hit an old woman?”

An old woman with powerful magic, Adora glanced at the Black Garnet.

“I’m not going to use magic on you Adora. I want to see if you have what it takes to strike me down in hand to hand combat.”

Adora wrung her hands together, one hand reaching up in an urge to twirl a loose strand of hair around her finger.

“N...no...Shadow Weaver...I. I don’t want to...I can’t.”

The sorceress huffed, disappointed.

“Perhaps you just need the right...motivation.”

With a flick of her wrist shadows materialized behind the large stone. Adora shrieked, jumping back, fists up.

“No….no,” something pleaded tearfully.  

Adora’s jaw dropped, as tendrils of shadows held fast around Catra, suspending her in the air, dragging her forward. Her arms behind her back, legs bound by black shadows, her tail between her legs.

“Catra!”

“That’s right,” Shadow Weaver turned her attention back to Adora. “We need to test your abilities Adora. Your true abilities. Come now, you don’t want Catra to get hurt do you?”

No. No. This is impossible. This isn’t happening. It’s an illusion. Shadow Weaver wouldn’t….Catra’s a cadet too. She wouldn’t…

“Adora! Adora!” Catra screamed through tears. “Make her stop! Make her stop!”

Adora froze, all but her eyes which darted between the sorceress and her friend.

“S..shadow Weaver….I...I can’t!”

“You must!” She raised a hand, curling her fist. Adora’s stomach threatened to vomit as Catra’s howls filled the echoing chamber. Her back arched, feet kicking wildly. The shadows bound tighter around her and now glowed with red.

“Stop! Stop it you’re hurting her!” Adora shrieked, unable to move.

“Go ahead Adora, hit me.”

Adora gaped, her legs refusing to move.

“N...no! I can’t! Please...just let her go!”

“I will her her go when and if you manage to subdue me.” Shadow Weaver hissed.

“Adora! Adora! Shadow Weaver! Please!” Catra wailed tears running down her flushed face.

“Shadow Weaver snarled, turning towards the magicat girl. The shadows glow intensified, black and red light pulsing across Catra’s skin. Her body jerked, first backward then forward, her matted hair shielding her face.

Adora pinched her ears against the yowls of Catra’s agony. Tears ran from her own eyes.

“Don’t hurt her! Please just don’t hurt her!”

“Do you think I enjoy hurting my wards?” Shadow Weaver asked; her voice high and light with sweetness. “I do not. But you force me to take extreme measures. Now I will ask one more time. Use your training and subdue me.”

She’s lying. She’ll hurt Catra no matter what and it’s your fault. If you try to land a hit she’ll just dodge  or use magic and she’ll still hurt Catra. She might hurt you.

The young girl stared at Shadow Weaver, then Catra, who’s misery now took her from shrieking, yelping to frantic breathless incessant begging.

“Adora!HelpmehelpmehelpmehelppleaseshesgoingtokillmehelpmeAdora!”

Your fault.

You can’t do this.

You’ve failed Shadow Weaver.

You failed yourself.

Catra is in pain because of you.

“Shadow Weaver! Please I can’t just let her go!”

Like she’d even be able to fight if she wanted to, her muscles reduced to jelly, her body shook with such a force she could hardly hold her arms up.

The shadows binding Catra curled and undulated, glowing. The sharp stinging smell of burning flesh and fur filled Adora’s nose.

“Strike me cadet!”

“No! Please don’t make me! Don’t hurt Catra!”

“A...a...d...dora...s...stike her...j...justdo...i...it..makeitstop makeitstop!” Catra beseeched. She let out a wet cough, moaning, trying to curl into herself to no avail.

Adora held her breath, eyes wide, the smell of raw sizzling skin too much. She let out sob staring in apt terror at Shadow Weaver, then fled, diving towards the nearest open air vent.

“ADORAADORANODONTLEAVEME!”  Catra’s crazed cries sounded through the narrow tunnel, muffled only by her own sobs.

---

Adora bolted upright, chest heaving. Eyes blinking away the darkness.

Catra! Where’s Catra is she safe?!

Adora’s head spun with confusion. Taking in her surroundings by degrees.

“Adora?” Catra’s sleepy voice wandered from the blackness.

“C...Catra!” The sound of her wife calling her name sent another sob choking out of her. Adora’s hands fumbled finally landing on something soft.

Finn!

The sleeping magikit squirmed, legs kicking out. Their face crumbled and they let out a little fussy cry.

“Adora, I’m going to touch you okay?” Adora barely nodded, unable to speak. Catra’s arms wound around her tight. The other woman pressing her face into the back of Adora’s neck from behind.

“I got you, shhh I got you.”

“Sh...Shadow Weaver...sh..she wanted me to hurt her and I refused...she..she tortured you!” Adora reached out for Finn, carefully supporting their head and taking them to her chest. She folded them against her as snug as they would go, drawing her knees up to further curl herself against them.

“That cunt is dead Adora. Shhh...shhhh...don’t smother the baby.”

Catra’s fingers stroked her hair, she planted tiny kisses against Adora’s spine and shoulders.

“I...I let you get hu...hurt,” Adora cried, kissing Finn’s hand. The magikit fussed again but their eyes remained closed.

Catra huffed, warm breath against her skin, apathetic and indifferent.

“It was a long time ago Adora. Breathe, breathe with me.”

Adora tried, taking a shuddering breath. She looked down at Finn.

Scars, riddles of skin across their arms, down their sides. Shadows binding them.

She shook her head against the thought, kissing them all over. Kissing the shadows away.

Easy, it’s not real. Finn is here with you perfectly healthy and whole. Catra is holding you. Catra is okay. She’s not in pain.

“Adora,” Catra called her back to reality, holding her close. “Tell Finn how much you love them.”

“Wh...what?”

“Just do it.”

Adora nodded, sniffling. Looking down at the fussy baby.

“I love you Finny...so...so much.”

“Good,” Catra soothed; all traces of her past anger gone.

Adora dragged a hand across her nose, wiping at her tears than adjusted herself to face her wife.

“I...I didn’t mean I didn’t want Finn to turn out like you,” she whispered. “I just meant I don’t want them to get hurt like you did. I want to keep them safe and care for them the way I failed you.”

“You didn’t fail me,” Catra’s familiar hand cupped Adora’s cheek, thumb stroking away her tears.

“You didn’t fail me. Shh, breath, deep breaths. Good, that’s it.”

Adora managed a tiny smile.

“Ehhh...ehhh...eh,” Finn whined.

“Shh, Finn come on, I can only handle one crier at a time okay?” Catra reached out, patting Finn’s belly until they stilled. Adora’s heart flooded with warmth.

You’d be such a good mom Catra, see?

Adora caught herself before saying the words aloud and stopped herself, instead she only leaned into Catra’s touch.

“I’m sorry Catra...all those years ago...I should’ve….I’d kill her for what she did to you.”

“To us,” Catra corrected, stoking her cheek. “And...yes, that would be pretty hot.”

Adora stifled a laugh, then sighed, turning her attention to Finn.

“I just...I want to care for them. I want to show them all the love we never got but always deserved.”

Catra said nothing, though even in the darkness Adora could make out the tiniest of empathetic nods.

“Catra?”

“Yeah?”

Adora swallowed, head stuffy with her tears. Her cheeks red and burning, exhausted.

“It’s okay, tell me what you want Adora.”

“C...c..can you...can you hold me?” She asked gingerly. It was hard, asking for something so vulnerable, so tender and simple. Her mouth barely formed the words.

Catra eased Adora down, back to the mess of pillows and blankets, adjusting herself to wrap around the larger woman the best she could. Adora closed her eyes at the tender kiss Catra placed on the crown of her head. She mirrored the movement, kissing Finn’s head and adjusting her own hold on them.

I want Finn to be able to say what they want when they get older.  I need to set an example for them.

“I want you. I want Finn. I want you as you are. Not a mom, not if you don’t want to be. We can take care of Finn just until we find them a better home. How’s that sound?”

Catra’s hands ran up and down her arms,

“Maybe. Now Get some sleep.”

Satisfied for the moment Adora enveloped the magikit in her embrace, Catra enveloped her. Between the warmth of the baby and her wife, Adora drifted into a serene sleep.

This. Right here. This is what I want.

More than anything.

More than Shera.

She turned her head into Catra, pulling herself to consciousness once more to kiss at her wife’s chest. Catra’s purr mingled with the tiny thrumming sounds of Finn’s.

It was the single greatest sound Adora ever heard. It drowned all else, even her nightmares, even her own doubts.

Catra's deep purr, Finn's little purr's her own snoring as she drifted off.

The sound of a family.

My family.

---

You read this far! Like what I do? Consider buying me a ko-fi! No amount is too small and it really helps! 

[moonlit-imagines]

Road Trip (Part 1)

Scott Lang x reader

warnings:

a/n: this ended up being really long so i gotta write another part

prompt: scott is back in town!...and out again

part 2

Alright, let’s start at the beginning: you were Hank Pym’s “nurse” for some time, only you weren’t a nurse. You were an agent of some sort, using his old tech to do some favors at ant-size. And you loved it.

But Hank’s daughter, Hope, had some bad news about her boss, which is how you and Scott Lang came to cross paths. You needed another tiny partner for this one, one who specializes in B&E.

“Cool beans.” Scott said after you had finally kissed him, it nearly made you regret doing it in the first place. But this day meant so much to you, because it marked the beginning of your relationship, he was more important to you than anything else. Scott and you were an unstoppable team, there was no doubt about it.

“Daddy!” Cassie shouted as she ran into his arms, you had shown up to his ex-wife’s house for a lovely family dinner, but it didn’t faze you at all. “Is this y/n? You’re awesome!”

“Thanks, Cassie. You’re ‘awesomer!’” You replied with a bright smile, then Jim and Maggie walked over to see the two of you. Truth be told, they were so warm and loving, you felt like you were apart of the family. Within three years of being close to the Paxton-Lang’s, you’d participated in countless game nights, several birthdays, family bowling, and more.

Scott’s house arrest was admittedly rough, but you two managed. You had been living together at the time, and you never failed to remind him that Germany was a bad idea! Well, not bad. Just a little stupid.

“I know, I know, I put everyone in danger and now it’s my turn to make dinner.” Scott leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead before lazily shuffling off to the kitchen. “Pause the show! I don’t wanna miss anything!”

“Fineee.” You reached for the remote to pause The Office and headed to the kitchen yourself to keep Scott some company. “I don’t want to make you feel bad or anything, I just want you to know that we’re really lucky I was able to convince the feds that I wasn’t affiliated with Hank’s work.” You dragged your finger along the counter, drawing shapes as you frowned at some of your misfortunes.

“I still can’t believe you were able to talk your way out of it. But I’m glad you did, y/n. I’m so glad you did.” Scott discarded the dinner supplies for a moment to give you a hug, remind himself of all that he had gained in these past few years.

Then you two hopped back into trouble with Hank and Hope yourselves, but most of this part isn’t too important to the story, so we’re just going to skip it. What really matters was that the Pym family was doing quantum realm testing on Scott without telling you. You were busy fixing the goddamn fence Scott kicked through when half of the world disappeared just like...that.

“What the hell..?” You dropped the paintbrush on the ground, splattering a bit of paint on your pant legs. What was going on? You pulled out your phone and dialed Scott ASAP—no answer. Hank? Nothing. Hope? Nope. “This isn’t good, this is not good.” You mumbled before dialing Maggie.

“Y/N? Oh, thank god you’re okay!” She placed her hand over her chest and took a deep breath, you could tell she was already a nervous wreck. “Is Scott there?”

“I can’t get ahold of him, do you know what’s happening?” You were starting to panic, too.

“Not a clue. I’m terrified.” Her voice was shaking sufficiently, you were about to cry just hearing it.

“Where’s Cassie and Jim?” You began to clean up your mess just a little half-assed.

“They’re here, we’re all okay.” Maggie nodded and began to pace around her house while you simultaneously ran into yours and tripped over your pants trying to change. “Can you come over here soon? Like now-soon? I just want to, you know, account for everyone I can.” She asked timidly, you really had become family to her.

“Yeah, I’m on my way right now...” You pulled on on a new pair of pants, shuffling them up with one hand. “Don’t leave your house, okay? I keep hearing crashing. Love ya.”

“Be careful out there. Love you, too.” She warned before hanging up the phone and throwing it on the counter. Maggie quickly burst into full-on tears at this puzzling and nightmare-inducing situation. What if Scott was one of the victims of...whatever the hell was going on? What would she tell Cassie.

You decided to call him again and again and again on your way to the Paxton residence.

Hey, this is Scott. Scott Lang. Leave a message...ka-chow.

“Hey, babe, it’s me again. Listen, we’re all a little bit worried right now because of, you know, people suddenly disappearing and shit. So, uh, gimme a call back. Please. I love you.” You rambled on before hanging up and then called him four more times before arriving. Maggie, Jim, and Cassie were all waiting on the porch as you pulled up, they ran up to you as soon as you parked.

“Y/N, you’re okay!” Cassie latched onto your hips and hugged you as tightly as she could. Maggie and Jim were next, hugging you from either side. But tighter than usual.

“Come inside with us. We need to figure out what’s going on.” Maggie led you in by the arm and all four of you squeezed onto the couch to watch the news update you whenever they could. After hours and hours of viewing the TV, the only information you got was that an intergalactic being had just wiped out half of the world’s population. That you knew of.

“Oh, no.” You covered your face with your hand and tears started to flow down your fingers. Cassie crawled into your lap for comfort, but she needed the comfort, too. As far as anyone was concerned, her father was one of the poor souls that disappeared.

“Y/N?” Jim’s deep voice broke the mourning silence of the room. He had been crying, too, I don’t think any of you would stop tonight. You looked over at him with your wet face and wrapped your arm around Cassie as she leaned on your shoulder. “Would you stay the night here? I think we could all use each other’s company.” Maggie nodded in agreement and Cassie looked up at you, begging with those big brown eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” You nodded and looked back at the bright TV lighting up the dark room. No lights had been turned on since you all sat down. No dinner had been made. No one had even gotten up to go to the bathroom. The sun had gone down and the stars were out and despite the dark turn of events, the night still looked so pretty. So for a while, you just stared out the window.

You stayed more than one night. For a few weeks, you slept on the couch. But you stayed for more than a few weeks.

After the snap, you spent exactly one night at your own house before moving in with Maggie and Jim. You felt bad, but they kind of pushed you to do it. You were family, therefore you had to stick together. So you ended up getting your own room and truly being a family. Once things got settled in the world (as much as they could be), you really got into the groove of the roommate life. You took Cassie to school, got groceries, made dinner, took out the trash, signed permission slips, did it all.

“I miss dad.” Cassie mumbled while you drove her to school. You zoned out after you heard her, thinking about the last time you saw him.

You woke up to the smell of waffles, eggs, and oranges. You made your way down the stairs to find your boyfriend making breakfast to OutKast’s Ms. Jackson. Watching him sing and dance with that spatula was adorable to you. Once you caught his eye, he lit up.

“Hey, babe! Look, food!” He pointed at the waffle iron with a grand smile on his face, you walked forward to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

“I see that.” You smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Any plans for today?”

“Eh, just a couple of personal errands. Shouldn’t take me too long. You?” He asked.

“I think today’s the day I fix the fence you broke.”

“I miss him, too...” You mumbled back and felt Cassie’s hand rest over yours on the steering wheel.

“I’m glad that you’re still here, though. It kind of feels like he’s still with us when you’re around.” She told you, which made you both smile and tear up at the same time. “You’re one of the best step-parents I could ask for. I have to say ��one of the best’ because Jim is also one of the best. But I mean it. You’re awesome, y/n.”

So that’s the first part, huh? Where’s all the road tripping? Well, I guess this is to be continued, right?

...Right?!

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiantfavs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight //

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Too Much || Ariana & Chloe

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chloeinbetween & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana checks in on Chloe and they have a bit of a disagreement.  CONTENT:  Lydia plot CW, gun use mentions, domestic abuse mentions, sibling death mentioned

More time than she would have liked had come and gone since they got everyone out of Lydia’s home albeit not everyone made it out alive. Ariana had meant to check in sooner, but life had been more hectic than she would have liked and she wasn’t even sure Chloe would stay. Her only memories made here were those in Lydia’s prison of a home which were decidedly not pleasant ones. Since she had decided to stay, Ariana knew she could still help and make sure she gets properly acquainted with the town. She walked up to Chloe’s new place with gingerbread cookies in hand and a little hand drawn map in her bag to give Chloe a good run down of the town and where to avoid. She knocked on the door and waved when it opened. “Hey,” she said with a small smile, “Cookies as pr- expected? Not sure that works any better, but hey, cookies!” 

 Chloe had braided her hair so that it sat over her shoulder, tickling her collar bone. Agatha’s place was nice, and when she was at the office the peace and space it offered was a treasure. Lydia’s home had always been too perfect, their living areas impersonal and without trinkets. Whereas Agatha’s felt like a home should, like Agatha herself. Even the couch was soft and comfortable. It wasn’t permanent, but it felt safe, and after four years of sleeping in the same room with other people, being someplace completely by herself felt… wiggy. Which sucked, Chloe could admit to herself, but it was also true. Her foot bounced as she waited for Ariana to arrive, and still startled at the knock on the door. Her first instinct, still, was to hide to avoid the burning retribution of a fae promise broken, but Chloe forced herself to unlock her knees and stand up, walking over to the door and swinging it open. “Hey. Cookies sounds great. Come on in.” She hoped Ariana couldn’t hear her nervous heart trying to escape her chest. 

 Ariana was coming far too familiar with the fact there was no true fix for grief or trauma. Not only was it so different for everyone, but they were also both things that had to be felt through. Subdued with whatever little scrap of solace or hope you could find. It left her all too lost on how to help Chloe in moving forward. Being out of that horror house was a step in the right direction, but she was not naive enough to think it could all be that simple. She could hear the way Chloe’s heart rattled nervously in her chest as she came inside. “Thanks,” she said with a small smile as she walked in. This place was much cozier than Lydia’s home that felt all too cold in all it’s luxury, or maybe that was just because she knew how cold a woman Lydia was. She set the cookies down on the coffee table and gestured for Chloe to try one before fishing a map out of her bag. “So, I made this for you. It’s a little map of town with big red X’s over all the sketchy places… given like half those sketchy places are mime places.” She cracked a smile toward the end. Somehow the mimes managed to be scary and comical all in one. 

 Chloe stepped back stiltedly, revealed her nerves as she gave Ariana a wide berth to pass her by. There were two pictures of Ariana in her mind. There was the blue haired girl under the trees whose dimples sometimes caught the moonlight, flitting around with bats in her hands. That was the image that Sammy had painted for her. Then, there was the other, the monster with fangs and a horrifying maw, that had bitten awfully into Sammy’s thigh. Had done something so visceral to him that sweet, soft Sammy had become frightening to Lydia. Werewolf. Fundamentally dangerous. Chloe couldn’t quite shake that thought, nor make it align with the tiny, young girl in front of her. “You made-” Chloe cut herself off, clutching the back of a chair with a tight grip before lowering herself into it, taking one of the cookies and nibbling at the edge. “That’s… very thoughtful.” Chloe said. There were so many red lines on the sheet of paper. “Mime places, huh? That’s not a phrase you hear everywhere.”

 The day at Lydia’s, Chloe had said her name in a questioning way. It made Ariana wonder how much Sammy had been able to tell her. What harsh words Lydia had likely said about her. She had the feeling Chloe didn’t hold too much stock in Lydia’s opinion. Or maybe she did. Sammy had before he died. The thought made her stomach turn and she opted out of having one of the cookies for now. “For sure,” she said easily, “There’s been a lot of trial and error on that, but I’m pretty durable.” She laughed a bit at the mime part. Somehow, the mimes managed to be a more chilling aspect of the town, especially since they’d even tainted the town’s soccer ball supply. Or football as Kaden would downright insist. “Didn’t you know? White Crest has the most mime per capita of any town in the world.” Her faux enthusiasm faded and she added, “But trust me, I know. I’ve lived a lot of places and most of them don’t have mime establishments.” She looked around the place. It had that distinctly home-y vibe to it. She could see a coffee mug on the counter that had likely been used earlier that day. She was pretty sure she spotted some games on the shelves, too. “How are you adjusting though? It seems nice here,” she asked more seriously now. 

 Chloe looked over the map, her chest squeezing. Sammy should have had this. Sammy had nearly had this. If he’d crept out and stayed out until he was something Lydia had been forced to respect, maybe. If he’d been more careful, if she’d been less cunning. Chloe looked at Ariana without being able to hide how wary she was, wondering if whatever change he’d been offered would really be better. “I keep hearing about that. People talk about their mime hatred online. If I didn’t know- well, it would be pretty funny, if it really was just regular humans dressed up and doing work as regular mimes. Just not… whatever these mimes are.” Chloe shuddered, imagining mimes as just another type of fae, perhaps even more dangerous in their trickery because they never spoke and only listened, so would hear more of the mistakes she knew they could use. “I’m… adjusting. It’s… it’s hard, remembering that I can make choices. Staying with Agatha has been good while I find my feet a little. She’s very… understanding, and very kind.” She looked around, squeezing her hands into her thighs as if that might hide the trembling. 

 Despite the fact she’d experienced a fair amount of pain, Ariana couldn’t even begin to imagine what Chloe was going through. Just that one instance of her free will being taken from her had been damaging and left her filled with dread. That had to be so much worse for Chloe and she wished she could take it all away. But that wasn’t how pain or trauma worked and she hated how easily she could understand that. Focusing on mimes was easier even if they were frightening in their own way. “It would be much funnier if they were just people who were way too enthusiastic about their craft. Since they’re not, better to avoid them… or anything black and white. The soccer balls at the rec center once turned into a bunch of those mini mime monsters which was a big old yikes.” She leaned into the back of the couch and listened as Chloe spoke. All of this sounded incredibly difficult, but she was glad she had a safe place now. “It must be. If it helps to talk about it you can. I know I go back and forth on whether talking feels helpful, but like-- Here if you ever want to and all. I’m glad Agatha has been good. It definitely seems cozy here.” 

 “The soccer balls did what?” Chloe repeated faintly, sitting down by the kitchen table. She traced her finger over the most dangerous zones on the map, watching her fingers tremble. Today, her joints were painful and stiff, it would hurt to hold a pencil to add anything more. When Ariana spoke, Chloe nodded, but when she answered only spoke about Agatha. How could she tell Ariana that the young werewolf made her as nervous as anything else, that the tremors in her hands were because she kept thinking about the bloody stains on Sammy’s clothes even before Lydia had killed him? “It is cosy. I’ve been looking at a couple places so that I don’t overstay my welcome, and because I currently sleep in her office, and I’ve seen some potential places too. Next step is just working out the income, but turns out the unemployment rate around town is very small. People keep going missing, apparently, so there are a decent number of vacancies,.”

 “There’s a mime monster that hangs outside of Yours, Mime, and Ours. I’ve avoided it, but the soccer balls turned into like, mini versions of that. Melted into the same black goo. Wouldn’t recommend,” Ariana said with a shudder. With Lydia gone, the mimes had returned to their rightful place as the most unnerving thing in town. She noticed the slight tremor in Chloe’s hands and frowned for a moment. She wondered how much Sammy had told Chloe about her. Or if maybe Lydia had painted her to be this frightening thing. She shifted and looked around the room. “It is,” she said easily now, “I kind of lucked out with the pricing on my place, but I’m sure there’s other affordable options with… well, vacancies like the jobs. Were you looking for a certain type of job?” It wasn’t what she really wanted to ask. There were so many questions, but she knew how difficult it was for Sammy. The lighting outage in her building and the conversations they had through Blanche were indication enough of that. She bit her tongue and opted to listen instead. Maybe she’d open the floor for questions or whatever it was normal people did, but she still felt so unsure of how to help Chloe. She couldn’t help but wish Sammy was there with them. His awkward rambles to fill the quiet were much preferred to her own inner turmoil around the way things shook out. 

 “A mime m-” Chloe gulped, trying not to envision the paler version of herself that had wrapped her striped fingers around Chloe’s neck, promising an easier escape than the one she’d been granted. “Um, okay. Avoid the mime zones. I won’t forget!” She said, folding up the map to go into her purse, so that she wouldn’t have to look at it any longer. 

 “Yeah, I think I’ll find somewhere soon enough. I have some savings that did okay after not being touched for several years, which I guess is a plus in the being kidnapped column, I kind of feel like I’m intruding.” Chloe could feel herself rambling a little, talking too fast and too high for her lungs. She forced herself to lean back in her chair and take a deep breath, but could not imagine it made her look more relaxed.

 “I- I don’t know. I used to teach elementary students music, but… that has lost its appeal in pretty much every possible way. Even if it hadn’t…. I’m not exactly a desirable hire for working around kids, even in this town. But there are lots of possible jobs, so just applying as they make sense to apply to.” She wrung her hands, idly tracing over the ridges of her swollen knuckles. “What… What do you do? Are you a college student or something like that?”

 It was only natural for the mime stuff to make Chloe uneasy. Hell, most days it made Ariana uneasy and she had a lot more going her way when it came to self-defense. Even so, they were creepy fuckers and she would rather not deal with them if possible. “Good, glad I don’t have to convince you to stay away from them. Some people think it’s a joke.” She let out a nervous laugh. This all still felt strange and being around Chloe brought up some guilty feelings she wasn’t quite sure how to process, so she shook them off. 

 She made herself a bit more comfortable on the couch and listened as Chloe spoke. The small benefit definitely didn’t outweigh the trauma or what she’d been through, but it was good to know she had that small thing going for her. “That’s a good thing to have. Probably one of very few pluses, but you know, still glad it’s there to help you get back on your feet. And I’m sure Detective Keen wouldn’t have offered if she minded. People can be… surprising like that sometimes. My apartment also has a pull out couch if you ever wanted to crash, too. My girlfriend and Sammy’s ghost are both there a lot so uh, full house and all, but you know.” 

 “That makes sense. I can’t imagine there’s much joy left in the whole music thing… which fucking sucks, but it’s kind of one of those things that is what it is. There’s definitely always a lot of job openings so I’m sure you’ll find something soon enough.” Part of all those openings was how often people went “missing”, but it seemed a little bleak to say considering how bleak both of their lives had been. She found herself holding one of the pillows on the couch a little tighter as she tried to shake away that thought. “Trade school student, actually, but I coach kids’ soccer and I have an Etsy shop for my woodworking so I keep pretty busy. Managed to find a steal of an apartment, too.” 

 Chloe smiled with her lips closed, tugging at the fraying end of her sleeve end. “Detective Keen is a good woman,” Chloe agreed quietly, and opened her mouth to politely refuse the teenager’s offer when Ariana mentioned Sammy. Her mouth clicked shut, stunned, even as Ariana kept talking. Chloe knew better than most that young adults responded terribly to dire circumstances, and that this kind of black humour was to be expected but… Chloe had watched Sammy’s brains spatter the walls like goddamn confetti. His ghost wasn’t here, it was haunting the back of her eyelids every time she blinked. He shared the scope of her nightmares in equal measure with Anneliese and Todd and everyone else who had died in that palace if horrors. 

 She nodded along to whatever Ariana said, barely taking it in. She could barely hear it over the ringing in her ears, the grief rising in her chest like a tidal wave. It was as if the conversation had continued without Ariana waiting for Chloe to laugh at her joke, like she’d just slipped it into her conversation like a quiet barb. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed how much Chloe was revealing. “An etsy shop? That’s cool,” Chloe echoed emptily. She squared her jaw. “You shouldn’t joke about Sammy like that.”

 Ariana could feel Chloe disconnecting from the moment as she spoke. Maybe mentioning Sammy had been a bad idea, but his ghost was still hanging around, a fact she needed to speak to Blanche about. While she had regularly visited him for rooftop chats, it had to still feel isolating that he couldn’t respond with one of his signature rambles. It dawned on her how she’d give just about anything to hear one of them again. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” she said as she fumbled with her hands, not sure how to address the last part of that. “I wasn’t joking,” she stated albeit somewhat nervously, “My best friend and neighbor is a medium. We’re uh… well, we’re trying to help him move on. Find peace and all that. A little easier said than done considering. I know he’s relieved you’re out of there though.” 

 “Don’t,” Chloe insisted, Ariana’s flat suddenly shrinking around her. The softly decorated walls no longer felt inviting but suffocating, like the curtains might themselves wrap themselves around her throught. “Don’t,” Chloe insisted again. “I know you knew him and that he mattered to you, but you don’t just get to assign feelings to him. He’s dead, Ariana, you can’t just pretend he’s hanging around here like this. You don’t-” A lump in her throat promised to choke her, so Chloe stopped talking, looking at her swollen knuckles.  “This isn’t healthy, Ariana. I think you should probably leave for now.”

“Okay,” Ariana said quietly as she decided against pushing this. Part of her felt frustrated, she hoped maybe helping Chloe would help Sammy move on, but ghosts were too hard to believe in a world filled with fae and werewolves. She didn’t have the energy for this fight, the energy to push that this wasn’t just grief. It’s not like she was seeing Todd or Celeste, not that she saw Sammy, but she trusted Blanche did and there was no way she could have known about him otherwise. “That’s not what I’m-” She started to defend herself before slumping her shoulders and simply nodding. “Yeah, I should go. Just- I don’t know, let me know if you need anything.” And she walked away somehow feeling even more lost than when she arrived. Was it too much to hope that for once her efforts to help would actually be helpful?

[sugar-kisser]

Hot Coffee « Choi San (RW)

original warnings: none word count: 3359

You look up from the ground in front of you and smile as you notice the little black corner shop quickly coming into your view with every step you take. Your hand grabs the metal door handle, the palm of you hand instantly freezing due to the lowering temperatures of the fast approaching winter. You’re just waiting for the snow fall to come, so you can enjoy the pretty white scene of what the city becomes, especially overnight.

A small little bell chimes as you open the door and enter, causing a pool of black hair with a strong silver streak to pop up, stoping his spot in the book he’s so engrossed in. The barista brightly smiles at you, his dimples caving deep into his cheeks.

“Y/N! You’re here much earlier than usual,” he slightly giggles as he calls for you barely containing his excitement. Some times you wonder what goes on in his head or if he’s mentally five.

“My last class got canceled last minute today, again,” you lie. Well you’re not entirely lying. Your class did actually get canceled today last minute, but you’ve ditched this class two other times now and you’ve told San that the class has been canceled. Truth be told you’re trying to avoid a couple of girls who have been harassing you for the past two months, and you just need a break.

“Do you want your usual?” San asks, already grabbing one of the large black cups. You nod you head and mumble a please. San smiles your way before moving towards the coffee station and begins to make your favorite drink. It’s not even a drink you can order on the menu, but because you come here so often San would make you new drinks all the time till you decided a favorite. You discovered this place in the beginning of the school year. San worked most days since he’s enrolled in mostly online classes. You like to come to the small coffee shop to work mostly on your graphic design assignments. You tend to find inspiration in little places that you are most comfortable in. The shop has only a handful of tables, but your favorite seat is on the bar attached to San’s entire work space. Most of the walls are windowed from top to bottom with black framing. San had recently even been hanging up plants around the shop to give it another spark of life. The shop isn’t much but it’s comfortable to you, and you can freely work in the environment.

San gently slides the drink across the countertop towards you, a small little trail of steam coming from the hole in the lid. You go to reach for your wallet in your bag, but San stops you.

“You know you don’t have to pay for you drinks,” San tells you.

“San,” you whine, “that’s not fair to everyone else. You need to stop giving me drinks for free.”

“Not everyone is like you,” San winks before walking off to go wipe down the equipment he just used. You feel a little bit of heat rise to your cheeks, and you take your drink and move to the bar on the side of San’s work station. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on San. He’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. You both were a little quiet at first but you two quickly grew comfortable with each other due to you coming everyday to the coffee shop. Your conversations grew from just “hey how are you?” to “if you’re going to put that much cinnamon power into my drink I might as well snort it.” And to add a cherry on top, you’ve developed a small, little, tiny winy….. okay maybe it’s not small- BUT you have a crush on the cute, flirty barista who is also one of your friends. For all you know you could be friend zoned, so there is a little dilemma. You don’t really plan on telling San about your feelings, you’d rather deal with them until they go away than risk what you have now- because what you have now is really nice. 

You set your drink on the counter and pull yourself into one of the high standing chairs. You then pull out your tablet and pull up your newest project you’ve been working on for a past couple days.

“What are you working on now?” San walks over to his side of the station connected to the bar where you are sitting at and rests his arms on top of the coffee machines.

“We have to create logo’s,” you tell him, “they can be for real companies or just made up.” You turn your tablet to show San the three different logo designs you’ve started. Each different logo representing a different company. One of them happens to be a design for the coffee shop you’re at- the other two are for made up companies.

“Is that one for here?” San asks, lighting up even more pointing to a small floral design, “look how detailed it is. All the flowers. They’re so pretty. Especially the big one in the middle.” You look over at your design and your eyes land on the giant water lily. “Are you about to color it all in?” 

“I will when I’m finished with the other two designs. Why do you have suggestions?” You asks looking back at San with a smile and a small laugh at his deep interest in your assignment.

“No, no, no,” San laughs as he stands back up straight, “just curious. I think it’s going to be pretty no matter what you do with it.” You feel the blush quickly return to your cheeks but quickly push away the butterflies.

“I hope it turns out good. Maybe you’ll be able to use it for the shop,” You tell San as you pick up your stylus and begin working on one of the other designs.

“You know I’d love to,” San winks at you, “I’ll have to show my boss. Doubt he’ll say no, you’re talented.”

“Ah, thank you, San,” you laugh shyly, “I’m no professional. I still have a long way before I’m considered good.”

“Stop beating yourself up, Y/N,” San laughs, “you’re really talented. I hope someday you’ll see that.” You smile and look away from San, trying to cover you cheeks from another wave of pink. Why can’t you just seem to maintain your cool today? You look back at your designs and enlarge the image of one of the unfinished designs and begin working away. San begins to clean down his counter but looks over his shoulder your way. He loves the way you engross yourself into your work and the way your eyes light up when you finally get the look you’re wanting for your design. He knows you take pride in what you do and how much you love it. He just doesn’t understand why you’re so hard on yourself all the time. You never seem proud of any work you do. Yeah everyone can beat themselves up because they don’t think they did the best job they could, but you just never seem to be proud of anything you make. But little does San know the reason why you’re so hard on yourself is because of the girls that harass you. They always find a way to point out flaws to your professor when presenting or whisper about how anything you do isn’t as nice as everyone else’s, things like that. It’s created this unhealthy mental mindset in you, and you can’t seem to shake it.

You realize time has passed when San refills your cup for a third time, which means you are most definitely not sleeping tonight unless you manage to get all this energy out of you. The sun has begin to reach it’s spot on the horizon.

“Have you started coloring yet?” San asks as he fills up your cup.

“A little,” you tell him as you zoom out from the first logo, the one San really likes, “I’m just messing around with colors to see what I like.” San leans past your shoulder to get a closer look at your tablet. His face just inches away from yours looking at the design. You watch as his eyes jump around looking at the little elements and the colors you have picked out at the moment. The corner of his eyes crinkle and his little dimples pop onto his cheeks along with a smile. He begins to speak but his words don’t reach your ears. You trying to remember to breathe and to not make a fool of yourse-

“Y/N?” San asks waving his hand in front of your face. His face turned towards yours and a slight look of worry replaced his smile. You blink a couple times and focus on San who breaks out of his worry and back into a smile. “You’re so cute. I’ll be back I think I have customers. I want to see the other designs!” You nod your head and the boy hurries back to get behind the counter. You put your head down and your hands cover your mad red cheeks. Seriously what is up with you today? At this rate San will definitely figure out you like him. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths before looking back up at your tablet, and get back to work. You zoom back into your logo and begin coloring in another petal of the water lily.

“I’m going to head into the back to grab more coffee grounds. Yell if anyone walks in,” San tells you hand resting on your shoulder to grab your attention. You nod your head and watch the boy disappear into the back before turning back to your work.

“Well, well, well. Look what we found,” an all too familiar venomous voice breaks your train of thought. Your breath hitches slightly and you look up at the two girls standing in front of you.

“Is there something you need? Or no?” You ask, almost deadpan. This is the last place you want to see them, especially since it’s your one safe happy place.

“No,” she answers then looks around the shop, “figures you would come here. Must be where you get all your ridiculous ideas from. Makes sense; there is no inspiration. But…. you got a cute barista, so I’ll give you some credit.”

“Leave him alone,” you warn her with a flat tone. The last thing you need is for San to be brought into whatever beef you have with these girls.

“What’s with the attitude? We’re trying to be nice,” the other girl growls.

“Nice? You’re joking, right?” You ask, “you come in here, insult a place I like to be at, and my designs in one sentence.”

“You need to learn to keep your mouth shut,” the first girl tells you, voice low and threatening. You can feel your heart beat against your shirt. You know you can’t give up, not this time. You take in a deep slow breath to clam your nerves and the two girls stand there watching you, unsure of what you are going to do or say.

“Apologize,” the first girl demands.

“No,” you immediately answer her.

“No?” She asks almost taken aback with your sudden boldness she or her friend have never seen before. You go to open your mouth again to repeat yourself but your stopped when you feel a burning hot splash against your skin. A sudden high pitches scream escapes your lungs in reaction. You hear something heavy hit the floor and you and the two other girls look behind you at San who’s eyes widen. At his feet most of the coffee grounds have spilt out of bags and spread across the floor. The girls instantly make their way for the exit and you pull your coffee soaked shirt away from your body, but it doesn’t stop the burning sensation that’s already on your skin.

“Y/N,” San hurries up to you and quickly looks over your shirt and parts of your blistering skin that’s already exposed.

“It burns,” you tell him, your voice wavering just above a whisper. You breathing is shaky and a couple tears fall down your cheeks.

“We’re going to get you cleaned up, come on,” San helps you off your chair and guides you into the backroom and towards the break room. He clears off a section of a desk and has you sit on it while he heads to the other side of the room and he grabs the first aid kit from a cabinet. He opens the small box and looks around at what he has to work with. He takes another look at you and see’s that the skin on your color bones and neck have been to shrivel up.

“You’re going to need to take off your shirt for me to clean up the burns,” San quietly tells you. You’re slightly hesitant but you nod your head since you 1) don’t want to argue about it 2) want to get the burning shirt off of you. As you begin to take the shirt off San turns away and heads to his locker pulling out another shirt.

“Here, you can hold this up,” San holds out the shirt without looking your direction just so you’re not uncomfortable. You take the shirt and wrap it around your chest and even take off your bra after since it’s also soaks but most of the hot liquid was absorbed in the padding and so it just felt warm and you don’t think there are any burns. You whisper you’re good and San turns to face you again. He gives you a comforting smile before pulling out antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit. You make a small hissing noise when he first touches your irritated skin and you even slightly flinch away.

“I know it’s going to hurt,” San tells you, feeling slightly guilty that he’s going to hurt you just to make sure you get better, “squeeze my hand when it really hurts.” San takes your free hand. He begins cleaning your burns once again and you sit through the stinging feeling, but when he reaches your collar bone you squeeze his hand and he stops for a moment. He gives you a minute before he begins to lightly touch your collar bone again. San then tosses out the wipe and pulls out two small packets of an antibiotic lotion and dabs it onto your skin lightly but making sure it was being rubbed into your skin well enough. The lotion feels cool to your skin and you can almost relax. You watch San as he focus’s on making sure every burn is taken care of. You almost forget you’re still holding his hand.

“All done,” San lightly smiles at you as he closes the top of the first aid kit and tosses out the antibiotic packets he used, “you can put that shirt on.” As San goes to put the kit away you quickly pull the shirt over your head and push your arms through the sleeves. San’s unmistakable cologne fills your nose and you look down at the giant sweater. The lilac sweater is already giant on San, so it easily swallows you. 

You slide of the desk, and when the sound of your shoes hitting the floor reaches San’s ears he knows it’s safe to turn around. He smiles sweetly seeing you in his sweater, you look like a little puppy in it.

“Had I known you looked this cute in my clothes I would of let you wear them sooner,” San teases as he walks back up to you, His head pushed further out from his body as he leans forward, and his hands are behind his back. When he reaches you, though, he stands up straight and his smile drops as he looks at you. He raises his hand and gently trucks some hair behind your ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” San asks, he feels like he’s been stabbed and it’s evident in his voice.

“San,” you start as you look down at your hands, which you pick at your fingers, “you shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“Hey,” San states as he gently grabs your face and lifts it up to face him, “I will always worry about you.” Your heart immediately flutters just at the simple idea that San wonders about you even when you’re not with him. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before San moves his hand to the side of your face and begins to lean towards you. You close your eyes and feel his lips meet yours for a moment before he pulls away.

“How lon-“

“I’ve liked you for a while. I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it,” San slightly giggles, “ever since you did that little doodle of me.” You think back a couple months ago when you had come to the coffee shop with no assignments to do so you sat and doodles San as he worked through his shift. 

“I didn’t know you saw that drawing,” you whisper looking away and awkward scratching the side of your head. San laughs and wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You can feel his chest vibrating from the laugh.

“Come on,” San pulls away as he stops laughing, “I’ll walk you back to your apartment. I can close the shop for today once I clean up the coffee I dropped.”

“You don’t have you,” you quickly tell him, shaking your hands out in front of him, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“A bother? Y/N,” San lightly laughs and grabs your hands, “you could never be a bother. Why can’t you see that? You mean a lot to me, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Not anymore. So, please, let me walk you home.”

“Okay,” you whisper and nod your head. San smiles with your response and the two of you head back out into the coffee shop. Most customers had already left and San gave a heads up to those who remained. He flipped the open sign and grabs a broom and begins to sweep up all the coffee grounds on the floor. You sit patiently in one of the other bar chairs with your things all packed up.

Once San had finished, he grabs his bag, and stops you from putting yours on your shoulders. Something along the lines of him not wanting you to irritate the burns any further or getting them infected. You let San take your bag knowing he’ll whine if you don’t and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You invite San inside and he’s surprised with the style of your apartment and how you chose to decorate it. It’s not the last thing he thought it would be, but it definitely wasn’t his first. None-the-less San’s more than impressed with your style and even suggests you be an interior designer. The two of you enjoy the rest of the day watching tv and even cook a simple dinner together. Half-way through one of the movies you guys decided to turn on you fall asleep, your head resting against San’s chest as he has one arm wrapped around you. He only notices you fell asleep when he hears your light snores. He smiles and pulls you a little closer and makes sure the blanket you have is completely on you. San also takes the time to grab your tablet from the coffee table and begins an email to your design professors letting them know about what had happen today. He doesn’t specifically know which class you have with those two girls but he’s just playing safe and contacting all the professors anyway. He isn’t going to let anything or one else hurt you.

[sociallyawkward--fics]

Stormy Saturdays

Wow, it feels like forever since I wrote a Sanders Sides oneshot that wasn't from a prompt??? All of my energy goes into prompts and my chaptered fics usually lol, but I've had a lot of writing energy these last few weeks so I decided "why not use it" lol

Also, this fic 100% came from it raining in Arizona today and me being like "WHAT" because we never get rain lol. And I got to stand in it and freeze because I was delivering Easter baskets to some of my church youth kids (we maintained social distancing! I put the baskets on their porches and rang the bell/knocked on the door and then stepped back 6+ feet to talk to them when they answered the door to get their goodies, it was really good to see them).

(also what’s editing, I am too lazy, lol)

Word Count: 1838 words

[ao3 link]

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

It was far too early to be awake, considering how late they had stayed up the night before. Logan sat up straight, trying desperately to not doze off in the middle of whatever game Roman was playing (he was interested, he really was! He was just so tired), meanwhile, Roman seemed to have no issues himself. He sprawled out across the blankets and pillows littering the floor, looking much the part of a spoiled prince, controller in his hands.

The smell of breakfast lingered, the good food filling his stomach only dragging Logan closer to sleep. It was the smell of food that woke them up originally, as Roman’s parents knew there was nothing that could rouse teenage boys like the smell of bacon and eggs and Roman’s mom’s famous pancakes. It didn’t matter how late they were up, just that they didn’t sleep the day away and lose all the sunlight.

Not that there was much sunlight to be had, that day. The sky was unusually overcast, adding to the lazy-day feel of the late Saturday morning. Grey, cold days always made Logan more tired, made him feel like he was stuck in some sort of limbo, made him feel like time wasn’t real. Roman didn’t share his feelings, always far-too-excited when clouds filled the sky, hoping for the still-rare chance of rain.

Logan allowed himself to zone out. The ambient sounds of the video game, the full stomach, the comforting smell, the warm blankets, Roman’s breathing just a foot away and slightly below him… it was all too much. He tried to keep from dozing, but he certainly wasn’t paying attention to the current world around him, anymore.

Which is why it startled him so badly when Roman gasped loud enough to send his cat flying out of the lounge room. Logan bolted upright from where he’d started to slouch and gave Roman a look somewhere between a glare and immense confusion.

“What the hell?” He grumbled, only growing more confused as Roman paused his game and launched up onto the couch next to him.

“Hear that?” Roman said giddily as he used his fingers to spread apart the blinds on the window behind the couch and peek through.

Logan finally paused to take in the added sound: rain. And by the sound of it, it was getting harder by the minute. That was Arizona for you, either it spit for two minutes, or it poured for three hours, no in-between.

And then it processed what Roman was about to do.

“Absolutely not,” Logan said. “You are not going out there.”

“Why not?” Roman asked, already peeling off his socks. “There’s no thunder or lightning, it’s just rain.”

“Yeah!” Logan said incredulously. “Pouring rain! It’s probably freezing, and you’ll be soaked in moments, you’ll catch something. You’re 18 Roman, really?”

Roman tossed him a lopsided smile over his shoulder. “Aww, Lo, didn’t know you cared.”

Logan rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to mumble more than you think.

“Anyway, I’m going out there. Stay here if you want, you big fuddy-duddy,” Roman said, voice teasing enough that Logan knew he didn’t mean it. “Age is just a number, old man, embrace your inner child!”

And with that, before Logan could even argue that he was only a month older, Roman was swinging open the door in the lounge room that led out to the side of the house. Logan rushed over to the door just in time to watch Roman dramatically hop and skip over the stepping stones, leap gracefully over the last one onto his driveway, and practically bound down it onto the empty street.

“Roman!” He called, but Roman just turned to give him a smug grin before turning his face skyward.

He spread his arms wide, as if welcoming the rain to him. A serene smile found its way onto his lips, despite being soaked. His pajama pants and tank top were plastered to his body, already soaked, and the hair slicked his hair back as it soaked him from head to toe.

“Dammit,” Logan muttered as he started slipping off his own socks. “Damn you, Roman Kingsley, for being my best friend.” He slipped his glasses off and set them on an end table. He was farsighted, he could make his eyes work without them, he just preferred to have them on. “Damn you for making me fall in love with you.” He tentatively stepped out the side door, stepping carefully across the stones on his toes. “Damn you for being so attractive.” He caught himself on the side of Roman’s house as he nearly slipped stepping onto the driveway. “Dammit, Roman.”

He was close enough for Roman to hear that last muttered sentence, and the boy in question whirled around to give Logan a grin so bright he was almost certain the sun had come back out. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed Logan’s hand, giving it a firm tug that led to Logan practically falling into his chest. Roman laughed and used that grip to spin him around under his arm, and even Logan couldn’t hold in a tiny laugh at that.

That spin led to Roman sweeping him into a full, goofy dance, right there in the middle of the street. They had to hold tightly to each other to keep from slipping, and the asphalt bit at their feet, but neither seemed to mind, based off their laughter. They didn’t worry much about cars coming by, seeing as Arizonans were notorious for not being able to drive in the rain, and people in Roman’s neighborhood tended to just stay home once a storm started.

Among all their twirling, Logan managed to back his way into a rather large puddle, stepping too hard in it and splashing their already-soaked bodies. Roman gave a fake gasp, and Logan laughed, darting out of his arms in “fear” of revenge. 

He only managed to get a few feet down the street (he had to run pretty carefully to not hurt himself on the asphalt) before he felt strong arms wrap around his waist and pull him into a broad chest. He was lifted off the ground and spun in so many circles that he got dizzy, and he closed his eyes and tossed his head back against Roman’s shoulder to laugh breathlessly.

After a few more rotations, Roman carefully set him back on his own two feet, keeping the grip around his torso. Logan turned in his arms to grin, up at Roman, shoulders still shaking with light giggles. Roman was laughing still, too, and the mirth in his eyes danced with far more grace than they had been earlier. Their laughter slowly petered off as they stared into each other’s eyes, panting from the exertion.

Logan leaned in first, shocking himself with his boldness, but Roman was quick to follow once he realize what was going on. Logan had to stand on his toes and pull Roman down by the neck (when had he sprouted up to be so tall?!), and Roman used the grip he still had on Logan’s waist to bring their bodies flush together.

It wasn’t as romantic as Roman had always waxed poetic about, kissing in the rain. Their pajamas were sticking uncomfortably to their bodies, their wet hair stuck into their eyes, their grips on each other kept slipping from the slick water, and it was rather cold to just stand still in the rain. But nonetheless, it was perfect. It was everything.

The kiss was chaste and brief, they pulled back not soon after it started and Roman helped Logan lower himself back to standing flat. They couldn’t stop grinning at each other. The first crack of thunder shocked them out of their trance.

Roman giggled as he took Logan’s hand and started leading him back down the driveway. “Told you rainy days were fun.”

Logan bumped their shoulders together, carefully so that neither of them slipped. “Shut up, I’m freezing. We’re probably going to get sick.”

Roman gave him a cheeky grin. “Worth it, though.”

They made their way back inside and found two large, fluffy towels waiting for them, as well as two clean, dry sets of Roman’s pajamas from his room. Roman unfolded one of the towels and unceremoniously dumped it onto Logan’s head, ruffling his hair with it and making Logan laugh again, struggling to get free.

He finally did, wrapping the towel around himself (it was large enough to cover almost his entire body from shoulders to calves, and warm, too) as he shucked off his soaked pajamas under it. “I take it this means they must’ve seen everything, then.”

Roman’s cheeks flushed a little as he stripped down to his boxers (which made Logan himself flush and have to avert his eyes) and started drying himself off with the other oversized towel. “Didn’t exactly intend for my first kiss with you to have my parents as an audience.”

It was Logan’s turn to grin cheekily, a habit he undoubtedly picked up from Roman. “It’s alright. The second one will be much more private.”

Roman smirked and stepped closer, wrapping his towel around his own body (he was so tall it only covered him from under his arms to his knees). “Oh, yeah?”

Logan stepped closer. “Yeah.”

And of course, the moment was immediately ruined by Roman’s feet sliding out from under him from a puddle of his own making. Logan snorted out a disgusting, ugly laugh and doubled over with the force of it, and Roman let out a few embarrassed chuckles, but he was still looking at Logan like he’d hung the moon and the stars.

Logan helped him up and they made quick work of drying off the rest of the way, pulling on the dry clothes Roman’s parents had left out for them. Logan located his glasses and slipped them back on, letting his eyes rest after having to do all the work for a while.

And then Roman promptly pulled him down into his pillow-blanket puddle. They landed in a tangled, giggly heap of limbs, Logan almost losing his glasses again in the process. They readjusted to be slightly more comfortable (and Logan pulled at least three blankets on top of them because he was still freezing and didn’t know how Roman wasn’t) and cuddled up together again.

And then they kissed again. And it was just as perfect the second time, if a little more coordinated (and dry and warm). And the third and fourth and fifth and sixth kisses were stolen in private, too.

And Logan knew they had to talk about this, and he knew Roman knew it too, but for right now, this was enough. A lazy Saturday morning, stormy and rainy outside, filled with good food and joy, Logan backseat gaming as Roman picked up the controller again, a playful fight for the controller that ended in more kissing. 

Because wherever they both were would always be enough.

[on-fic-writing-spree]

Chapter 10: The Split (Reprise)

Notes: I think I’m funny. Also @justfor2am wrote about half of this chapter (maybe a little more) and will be continuing to work with me on this book!! Which means longer chapters and better interaction scenes!! ALSO there’s some triggering stuff in terms of suicide (the sides can’t actually die, but the scene is very alluding to suicide.)

Word count: 2772 words

Next Chapter: Pride

Find the rest of the story here!

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There it was again, that incessant nagging in the back of Roman’s head. Truth be told, he’d done his best to ignore it, it’s been there for almost an impossible amount of time now, but it still managed to drive him nuts. Usually only about as loud as a whisper, today the buzzing was consuming his every thought, and no matter whom he spoke to or what he did it was still there, almost speaking over his own voice at times. But he could fight it. He knew why it was there and it was his own fault. A prince doesn’t ask for help, he solves his issues on his own, and this was just another one of his many “tasks” to attend to. And yet, something felt off about it today. Even something so simple as standing to his feet made his skin crawl, as if there was something else besides his own soul within it. But that was foolish to think, a child’s fear. He was not weak, he could not afford to be. At least, Roman hoped this was true.

The voice really seemed to criticize Roman’s every move, telling him to do this better, or do that differently, and why can’t Roman just let him do it! Which was odd because it was still Roman, wasn’t it? After hearing that Virgil would be coming back, the voice was not happy, making harsh comments about how Roman should just tell Virgil to pack it up. He’d done it once, why couldn’t he do it again?

Virgil had strolled in with their suitcase in hand, giving a greeting to both Logic and Patton. Patton had greeted with a hug, which Virgil had to take a moment to accept before smiling and hugging back. Clearly, they had been crying, their eyes puffy and face still pink. Virgil had considered going to talk to Roman, but didn’t know if it’d be the best choice. They weren’t stupid; they knew Roman didn’t want them there. They could ask a little later where their room was.

Roman… was in the middle of a dilemma. He heard the voice’s stern yelling to dismiss Virgil, but he forcefully put it down. He was older now, more aware of how he could affect others, Roman wasn’t about to push someone away and become the bad guy. Besides, Virgil was his, and there was a part of himself that had always nagged with worry about how Virgil was doing, if they were even still alive. But he wasn’t stupid, he knew Virgil must have some sort of sore feelings towards him. Honestly, he’d feel the same way after being treated so horribly. So, in spite of the angry voice yelling within his mind, Roman decided to wait for Virgil to come to him, not wanting to push them outside of their comfort zone anymore than he had to. I mean, the poor thing just left the only family they ever knew, that alone was a lot to deal with.

Patton had been quick to hop to making some breakfast for Virgil, though it was only about five in the morning. Virgil had left very late at night and had arrived at the castle only roughly four hours later. Logic and Virgil spent some time chatting, and Virgil found the more time he spent, the more time he really felt like he belonged.

Too bad the voice didn’t think he belonged in the slightest.

The voice did anything but halt, constantly complaining that Virgil was nothing—that paranoia was nothing. A mere mistake, like Roman’s brother and Janus. They weren’t helpful, all they did was weight Thomas down, and drag Roman’s ideas down with them.

“You really need to shut up,” Roman muttered to himself through gritted teeth, finally making up his mind to at least go check up on their newest ‘roommate’ of sorts. “Their name is Virgil, not Paranoia. That name means nothing now, so stop acting like it does,” he added, barely noticing the fact that Roman was arguing with himself. He peeked down the hall where Virgil’s new room would be, and as he walked up, took a deep breath. “Don’t fuck this up,” he thought as he knocked. ‘You’re just as useless as it,’ the voice had snarked, but went quiet as Roman headed towards Virgil. The voice could argue more later, but it knew it was practically stupid to waste any energy here.

Logic was the one to open the door. “Prince Roman, please come in,” Logic stated, flashing a polite smile and gesturing for the other to step into the room. Virgil gave a tiny wave from where they sat, but was half expecting for Roman to say something about how they shouldn’t have come. They really hoped Roman wouldn’t though. They liked it here, and they didn’t want to leave. But it was Roman’s castle, and they wouldn’t overstay their welcome if Roman didn’t want them here.

Not wanting the moment to become anymore awkward than it could possibly be, Roman flashed a smile at them. “I’m glad to see you, Virgil. I’m sure you’re tired and there’s probably some things you want to talk about, but right now it’s best that you rest and get adjusted. I’m sure these two are more than capable of taking care of you,” he added. In truth, Roman wasn’t sure how to feel about Virgil coming back now that the two were face-to-face, but at the very least he wasn’t about to embarrass them.

Virgil couldn’t help letting out a little breath, their tense posture softening some. “Yeah, that’d be appreciated, actually. I haven’t slept yet... I promise Ree I wouldn’t leave a trace when I left,” they admitted. “Where’s my room—or bed—or just whenever I’m going to be sleeping? I don’t want to inconvenience you too much about it.” Virgil and Logic had mostly just been spending time in Logic’s room.

Patton stepped in with some pancakes, handing them over to Virgil. “I’ll make some for the rest of you guys in a few hours, but for now, I think the rest of us should be resting,” Patton piped up.

“I actually have a place set up for you down the hall, if you want to get situated now.” Was Roman about to acknowledge that it was what would have been Virgil’s original room? Absolutely not. If he was lucky enough, Virgil wouldn’t even notice. Roman frowned slightly, “And well, you’ll have all the time in the world to rest now that you’re here.” Roman stepped back slightly and gestured to the door as if to guide them, “I’ll have my staff fix your things for you, if you’d like?”

“No, no, it’s alright, I got it,” Virgil assured, pulling their suitcase along while balancing the pancake plate in their other hand. They were mostly nervous about possibly dropping the plate, knowing that it’d just cause a mess. If Virgil was going to fit in here, they’d have to be careful not to stand out. They followed Roman to the room, meanwhile the voice spoke up for once, making a comment about how Paranoia should be sleeping on the floor. When Virgil got to the room, they put the suitcase towards the corner of the room before sitting on their bed. They took a smile bite of their food, but mostly wanted to wait until Roman left, not wanting to be rude. “Thank you, Roman,” they murmured softly.

Roman winced at the whisper and willed it to shut up, keeping a careful eye on Virgil. He took his cue to leave, saying, “Of course, let me know if you need anything, alright?” She tried her best for a smile before shutting the door. As soon as the ‘click’ of the door handle was heard she pressed her hands against her skull, wincing slightly. “Do you ever shut up?” she whispered harshly to the voice.

“I will,” they wouldn’t. Virgil wanted for Roman to step out before taking another bite of its pancakes, looking around the room. It looked rather similar to Logan’s except a lot of the accents were purple instead of blue. Virgil found they rather liked the purple. They stood up, glancing around and opening drawers and closets, just to see everything that was there. Occasionally they’d go back to eating a few bites, then look through something else. After a bit though, they grew wary and headed to sleep.

‘No, I don’t, but I will if you just get rid of it,’ the voice answered. ‘Get rid of it or I will myself, and I won’t be so nice.’

“Gods you are insufferable!” She grumbled, walking away from Virgil’s door and towards the throne room. “What is your problem with them? I thought we agreed we were going to be nice to Virgil. After the shit they must have been through, it’s only right. Besides,” Roman added, finally reaching his desk and glancing over a few papers, “What are you going to do about it? You’re just a stupid voice, you have no say over me!” she snapped.

‘We didn’t agree on anything!’ the voice answered, louder now. ‘You decided, I didn’t. But I won’t just be a voice, not for long, enjoy being a princess while you still can’ the voice added. There was a short second of silence before there was a harsh tug on Roman’s body, throwing her into the wall. ‘You’re not the only one with control you know. If you want me gone, you’ll have to get rid of me.’

A sharp pain shot across Roman’s shoulder as she felt her body betray her and slam against the wall. Her blood ran cold and her head was spinning with questions. Finally speaking out loud, Roman asked, “What the fuck was that, and what the fuck are you?” The strange skin crawling sensation was back, and for whatever reason, it felt more like burning in Roman’s eyes.

‘Well I can certainly say I’m not you,’ it answered. ‘Truthfully, I don’t know what I am. I guess we’ll see, right?’ It threw Roman to the ground in front of her, only allowing for her to catch herself out of mercy. ‘Just let go Roman. Let me take over. I can be out of your head in a breeze, but you have to let me... or we could do this the hard way,’ the voice convinced.

“Absolutely not!” she shouted, shakily pushing herself up to a kneeling position on the floor. “Whatever you are, there is no way I’d ever allow you to use my body! At least if you’re in my head you can’t hurt anyone else, and it’s staying like that.” Roman slowly stood up, leaning back against the wall for stability, “I’m not giving you another choice; either shut up or go back to being nothing, that’s all you get.”

There was laughter at first, dark and low and sinister. It had to resonate in every part of Roman’s body straight to the core. ‘Oh but Roman, I’m not nothing. Like I said... easy or hard, I’ll get my way. But don’t worry, your body will be useless to me soon,’ it remarked once more before throwing Roman back against the wall, then pulling Roman to her feet and dragging her to her room. It didn’t bother to make Roman shut the door—why waste the energy? Instead, it lead Roman to the window, unlocking and opening it. ‘Last chance, Roman.’ It wouldn’t kill Roman, the voice knew that, but Roman wouldn’t be conscious for enough time for the voice to do what it needed to.

“Is… is this supposed to be a threat?” Roman cursed himself for the quiver in his voice but carried on. “If I die you die with me, and besides that, I can’t die here. At most you’ll just hurt the both of us, and I don’t think it’s worth the effort you’re putting in. What’s your grand plan anyway, then? To feel my bones reform themselves as we lay on the ground, bleeding out? You must be more clever than that.” She wasn’t sure if any of her words were sticking but it was worth a shot.

‘It’s only a threat if you want it to be.’ I don’t feel the pain that you do, Roman. Your suffering is purely your own,’ it answered. ‘If I’m truly nothing, you shouldn’t be worried. I can’t force you to do anything, can I? But you are worried. You see Roman, when you sleep, your mind is still active... when you’re unconscious, it’s no different, except you’re much easier to suppress. I’ll have my way princess, with or without your help,’ it assured.

“Can’t force me to do anything my ass,” Roman grumbled. After having been forced to almost jump out a window and her body slammed into a wall, this just felt cruel and ironic to say. But somehow this fact reassured her, and she grabbed the open window frame and slammed it shut, clicking it back into place. “You’re not hurting me. And you’re not hurting anyone else. I don’t care what you’ll try to do to control me, I won’t let it happen. Even if it means never sleeping again, I won’t let you have your way with me, and whatever devilish plan you have.”

‘Whatever you say Roman. You can’t let your guard down then, can’t rest, you’ll slowly weaken yourself over time. Whatever way we do this, the outcome is the same. Let me out and I’ll leave you be, I swear. But keep me trapped here, and I’ll make your life a living hell, and Paranoia’s while I’m at it,’ the voice lead on.

“Stop calling them that!” Roman yelled, curling up his fists. “What’s your problem with Virgil anyway, huh? We haven’t seen them in years and the first thing you want to do is throw them out?” Roman was ignoring the voice’s first comment, because so long as she didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t be true. (This obviously doesn’t make sense, but so is little of Roman’s logic.)

The voice went quiet for now, already knowing it had won. It didn’t need to say anything for now, it could wait.

And it wasn’t long until it had waited enough. When Roman got just tired enough, the voice had dragged Roman around, a step out the window and that was all it needed. Roman would be in a lot of pain, of course, but that didn’t matter to the voice. All they needed was to gather enough control to cause the final split, and Roman would be utterly useless. Actually... with Roman so weak, there was plenty the voice could do, lock Roman away and keep her from any plans it made—oh this would do just lovely.

The voice hadn’t spared Roman an ounce of pain, doing nothing to hurry the process despite the damage it caused to itself. Roman’s half conscious body was forced to stumble, trip again and again, until it crashed, a bright light appearing like lightning, gone in a quick flash. And there were two.

There probably was a more efficient way of staying awake for the rest of your life, but obviously Roman had not found it. But what else really wakes you up besides every single atom in your body destroying and rebuilding itself at the same time over and over and over again until you could no longer tell where you ended and this parasitic life form started. It was more than agony, more than just pain, it was familiar in a way Roman hated that she could not place. Even when the burning stopped and the twisting and pulling ceased to be, Roman felt herself feeling… smaller, like a piece of herself stood up and walked away. Funnily enough, that was exactly what happened.

The new side... whatever it was to be named, hadn’t wasted any time. They had dragged Roman back inside, down to the lower levels. First, they had left her chained up in the dungeon until they could finish their creation—a new garden, a perfect way to get rid of Virgil. The new side had figured the dungeon and new garden were close enough they could keep up with both Virgil and Roman. The dungeon hadn’t been used in years though, and that played to their advantage. No one would think Roman was there. And the bonus of it all? Virgil would be locked up away, and happily at that. And if it wasn’t? Well, there’s no reason Roman couldn’t learn to enjoy it’s company.

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Tag list:

@genderfluidmoma

@sinuous-scakt

@youremotionallystablefriend

@alinatheanimelover

[diana-3]

Day 3: Roses and Cupids Knife

“I just wanted to pick some stupid flowers.” Diana murmured.  “Is there a traditional way of saying…” Crow waved his hand, looking for the right words.  “Fuck off?” Diana finished for him, taking the light slap from Quin without trying to stop her. “Yes and no. I could decline in person, but I thought I had already done that and then the next day there was another knife. I think he’s been talking to Zavala about persistence.”  “There is a notable difference between persistence and harassment.” Crow said, glancing at the knife before taking a knife out from one of the holsters on his thigh and looking it over.  “Just because we know that difference doesn’t mean everyone does.” Quin said with a sigh. “You could always tell him you have another date?”  “With who?” Diana closed her cyan eyes and folded her hands on her stomach. “Everyone knows that Hunter, you and me had a falling out. And the Shaxx excuse won’t hold up this year.”  “Make someone up.” Quin offered, “Isn’t there some social standard that if you have a date with someone else that the repeat offender will lay off?”  “Not always.” Diana answered but I wouldn’t object to someone being my stand in date.”  With Diana’s eyes closed, she couldn’t see Crow etching away at his knife before holding it and a white pen over to Quin and nodding. Quin took the Knife and wrote her own information on the other side before handing it back to Crow. He kicked at Diana’s foot, rousing the exo from her meditation and laid the knife down on her stomach. “I don’t think I should try to throw it at you from this distance, but anyway we could be of assistance?” Crow slowly pulled off his helmet and shook his head, running his fingers through his hair and smiling at her as she sat up. His eyes were darting around the area, keeping his eyes open to any sort of disturbance or movement. The many deaths he had suffered at the hands of other Guardian’s for his face had taught him to be overly cautious. His movements were slow and calculated. Diana’s laughter caught him off guard and pulled his eyes back to her as she hit him in the shoulder, gently, with her fist.  “You two wanna be my Crimson Bonds?” “It wouldn’t be the first year we were,” Diana reminded her friend, folding her hands in her lap and smiling gently. “And it will dissuade any further attempts by Hatem or any other suitor that will turn eyes your way.”  “Diana!” A deep voice boomed behind her and made her groan from deep in her gut. The quick rate at which Crow put his helmet back on, turning his back from the noise made both the women glance at one another with anger. He was far to practiced at that. “I’ve been asking you for like three days!” A titan with purple and golden armor thundered between the trees, “I’ve even taken up that stupid Hunter tradition. Why won’t you just accept?”  “Why would I Hatem?” Diana growled, not bothering to look at him. “I’m not interested. One strike fireteam match up isn’t grounds for a romance. You should have taken the first no as a sign and left well enough alone!” She got to her feet and yanked on Crow’s cloak, before holding out her hand to Quin who took it gently and pulled herself up to her feet. “Anyway, as you can see, I have Crimson bonds anyway. It’s time to finally lay off.” She glanced back at the hulking Titan and sighed. “Besides, Iiya has been waiting literally YEARS for you to ask him out. He’s been gaga over you since that race during the first Guardian SRL. If you’d quit being so damn blind to it, you could have a truly loyal Crimson Bond.”  “Iiya has?” The Titan sounded bewildered, “Why hasn’t he said anything?”  “Because you’re too busy trying to woo every other guardian who you get paired up with, ya dolt!” Diana snapped, wrapping her arms around Quin and Crow’s waist and pushing them forward gently. “Now if you’ll excuse us, you have someone to go talk to and we--”  “Have flowers to gather.” Crow responded, wrapping his arm around Diana’s waist and pulling her gently away from Hatem as his Ghost materialized beside him. “Come on, I know these ruins that have the most beautiful flowers.”   They had walked in silence the entire way. A comfortable silence, rather than one born of awkwardness as they picked their way through the brush and occasional clearing. Crow was leading with an easy gait, his helmet still on. Glint, Joel and Chiron were conversing above their guardians heads in low voices as the larger three stopped occasionally to gather flowers or tall grasses to weave into ropes. When they reached a cliffside, Crow pointed down and looked over his shoulder.  “I found this recently. Not sure what it used to be. A vacation home maybe.” Diana and Quin both gasped in awe at the ruined structure. It had been large, and although the ceiling had long caved in and only the bones of stone and wood remained in a skeletal stance, it was still marvelous. The women didn’t wait for Crow before jumping down the cliffside, their Ghost tailing along like graceful snowflakes. The structure dwarfed them all as they picked their way around the outside. Time had washed away any sort of coloring on the outside, and the remaining furniture visible through the remaining pieces of glass was covered with grime, dirt and dust. Quin stopped moving when she found what should have been an opening, the doors long since taken away. Rotted or broken and removed for easy looting access. The warlock knew that there shouldn’t have been anything of interest, but while the two hunters snuck off to the side of the building she found herself wandering inside. She could just imagine the walls standing full and tall, the dark wood shining with care of regular washing and filled with pictures of art, family photos and knickknacks collected from around the world. It was a skeleton of its former self, yet it still held so much wonder and mystery inside its former majestic walls. She imagined tall spotless glass where windows should have been, looking out onto well kept lawn and flower beds. It was then she saw the brilliant color.  Climbing up one wall were stems riddled with thorns, but the blooms were made of what she could only assume was twilight’s kiss. The roses were awash with pinks, purples, blues and slight kisses of orange, from a distance she thought they held pieces of starlight in the petals, tiny flecks of white that reminded her of stars. When she came close, she was surprised by two hands holding out long stemmed roses toward her. Crow and Diana had gathered several of the roses and made bundles with the grass ropes, but held two singular roses out toward her with smiles.