#....i got way more sad in the tags than i meant to WHOOPS

[streetcornertwoam]

my sister shared this thing on facebook that’s ‘the signs as ghosts’

and for aries it says: “hides in closets and screams demonically at night”

accurate in more ways than one ajskldf *sad sigh*

[bonjour-rainycity]

Time

Prompt: Someone’s jealous (Content Challenge Day 1)

Pairing: Hinted Legolas x Female Reader, light Boromir x Female Reader

Rating: G

Word count: 1313

Warnings: Angst (nothing too heavy)

A/n Hey everyone, welcome to Day 1 of my content challenge! You can find the challenge’s masterlist here, and my personal masterlist here. And honestly, I don’t even know what happened with this story. I had two fluffy pieces ready to go and then I read them again and realized I wasn’t ready to post them. So I opened a doc and accidentally wrote angst. Whoops! Hope you enjoy :)

Boromir entered the clearing, arms laden with firewood. With a nod towards Sam, who had volunteered to tend to the fire, he dropped the wood, retreating to a log on the edge of camp.

The exact log upon which Y/n sat.

She greeted him warmly, welcoming him back from his quick venture into the forest. Without meaning to, Legolas watched as Boromir placed a soft kiss on Y/n’s cheek, earning him a shy smile. Seeming slightly hesitant, Y/n laid her head on Boromir’s shoulder, and when he wrapped an arm around her back, Y/n relaxed, pleased that her advance was received favorably.

Legolas tore his eyes away from the budding romance, turning his back on them to help Sam with the fire.

“Oh, don’t you worry yourself with this, Mister Elf. I’ll get the fire going, I just need to find the right kindling.”

Legolas furrowed his eyebrows. “The firewood is not enough?”

Sam looked away, seeming uncomfortable with criticizing the quality of the firewood and, by extension, his friend Boromir. “I’m sure he did as best he could in the dark. Unfortunate it is though — most of the wood is too wet or covered in moss. Have you got a bit of spare paper, by chance?”

Legolas stared at the offending pile of wood. This is ridiculous, he thought. Do not volunteer to collect the firewood unless you know what you’re doing — it’s a waste of everybody’s time.

A giggle from Y/n floated to Legolas’ ear, and he couldn’t stop the frown that set in his lips. It seems it was not inexperience that caused Boromir to bring back unacceptable supplies, but distraction.

Legolas huffed in frustration, grabbing a stick at random and marching to where Boromir and Y/n sat.  

He shoved the moss-covered branch in Boromir’s direction. “This is what you came back with? Hardly any of it is usable. It is too long or half-drenched or covered in moss — it won’t burn.”

Boromir puffed out his chest, tearing his gaze away from Y/n to look upon the elf with a measure of disdain. “The wood is perfectly useable.”

Legolas clenched his teeth, caught in an unexpected flurry of anger. “It is apparent you have allowed yourself to become distracted and forget your duties. I will have to do it myself.”

He pushed past the two humans, stalking deeper into the woods.

With his elven hearing, Legolas heard Y/n’s soft and slightly alarmed voice call after him. Everything in him shouted for him to turn back, to answer her plea, but he kept his feet moving forward. Something about the camp tonight made him irrationally angry, and, stranger still, left him with an unwelcome discomfort in his chest.

He heard light footsteps behind him, and knew Aragorn was on his trail. Legolas kept walking until he was far enough away from the camp that he could no longer hear any individual voices, just a general murmur of sounds. He found a small cliff and a cluster of rocks and climbed, pleased that he found a spot that allowed him to sulk and keep an eye on the surrounding areas.

Aragorn was not far behind, and soon sat on a boulder across from Legolas.

The two sat in silence for a long while, both of their brows furrowed in thought. While Legolas contemplated the foul mood he found himself in, Aragorn struggled with how best to broach the conversation. Legolas was one of his closest friends, and he liked to think that he knew the ellon quite well. Over the past few months, it had become apparent to Aragorn that Legolas harbored affection for the human woman that accompanied their fellowship.

And it had recently become apparent to everyone that Y/n and Boromir were interested in each other.

Aragorn knew this was the reason for Legolas’ anger—he was sure of it. But how best to bring it up?

Finally, Aragorn spoke, bracing his forearms against his knees and turning towards the elf. “You know, Legolas, sometimes, when I think of Arwen in Rivendell surrounded by ellyn, I get a little stressed out.”

Shame gathered in Legolas’ gut. He felt quite guilty for being so dramatic when it was obvious Aragorn needed to talk. He mustered what he hoped was an encouraging smile, and laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to provide reassurance. “Do not be worried, mellon nin, elves love only once. If Arwen has chosen you, there is no threat from other ellon.”

Aragorn looked to the ground briefly. He hadn’t expected to have to try again.

He took a second to regroup. “Right. Thank you for that. But uh, if I were to see her in another’s arms, or see her flirt with them, even, that would make me very upset. And that’s to be expected, really. It only means I love her, and I wish for her to want me only.” The line between Legolas’ brow deepened, and Aragorn continued eagerly, hoping his friend was catching on. “It would hurt me to see the woman I love being affectionate with someone else.”

Legolas’ mouth set into a hard line, and his eyes widened. Aragorn nearly laughed in relief. Finally.

“Has Arwen been unfaithful?”

No! So close!

Aragorn bit back a curse, and Legolas took this as confirmation.

He sat back on his heels, his features encompassed by disbelief. “This is unheard of from an elf, though perhaps it is the influence of her human lineage. I admit, it pains me greatly to think her capable of such a thing. But do not fret, mellon nin, I will stand by your side through this.”

“No, Legolas,” Aragorn groaned, laying a hand on the elf’s shoulder, causing him to look Aragorn in the eye. Time to try again. More overt, this time. “Arwen has never been unfaithful, nor do I sense that quality in her.” Legolas relaxed in clear relief, and Aragorn allowed himself a deep breath before continuing. “I only meant to say, that if I had romantic feelings for someone…and I saw them engaging in displays of romantic affection with someone other than me….” Aragorn saw the moment realization began to dawn in Legolas’ eyes, and he felt a strong pang of sorrow for his friend. He forced himself to continue, knowing that Legolas needed to acknowledge these feelings in order to deal with them. “It would make me feel sad, and hurt, and probably angry and frustrated, too…and that’s okay. I think it would be especially difficult if I did not realize that I had these feelings of affection for her, until she was in the arms of another.”

Legolas seemed to sag, dropping his head and letting his elbows rest on his knees. The two sat in silence for a moment as Legolas took deep breaths, unused to feeling such frustration and grief. After what seemed like quite a long time, Legolas raised his eyes to Aragorn’s.

“How did you know? I did not even know.”

Aragorn gave a small shrug, hating that he couldn’t be of more help to his hurting friend. “You look at her in the same way I look at Arwen — with complete devotion. You’d give up your title for her, lay down your life for her…do anything and everything you could to make her safe and happy.”

Legolas tried to protest. “I want safety and happiness for any of you.”

Aragorn held up a hand to stop him. “It’s different and you know it.”

Legolas sighed, feeling defeated. “I don’t want to love a human. Especially a taken human.”

“Just be there for her, look out for her as her friend. And you never know. Give it time.”

Legolas clenched his teeth together against the onslaught of despair. “She is human, Aragorn. Time is something she does not have.”

A/n Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated :) Let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list! 

[pappydaddy]

ivy (f.w.)

A/N: Here here the first piece for the Folklore/Evermore collection - ivy. This ended up being 13 pages (whoops!). It is clear in the piece that Y/N’s family, the Malfoy’s, and the Weasley’s are in no way related so, I just wanted to make sure everyone knew that! Anyway, enjoy lovelies💛!

Paring: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader/Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Show/Movie: Harry Potter

Not Requested

No Voldemort AU, but there is blood-supremacy but it’s not like in your face, it’s just because of the arranged engagement. 

Warnings: Lucius being a jerk, being trapped in a loveless engagement, arranged marriage, cheating, breaking off an engagement. Lucius kills a owl, but it’s briefly mentioned. 

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation - my gif - 

  She never saw this coming. This was not supposed to happen - any of it. She wasn’t supposed to be forced into an arranged marriage, she wasn’t supposed to be with Draco, and (most importantly) she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Fred Weasley while she was engaged to Draco Malfoy. She could guess that she deserved this. Her life was relatively easy until now. Even when she was sat down with her parents, Draco and his parents a year following their departure from Hogwarts and told she was to marry Draco since she was part of one of the only pureblood families not related to the Malfoys at all, her life was rather uncomplicated. It wasn’t until she bumped into Fred Weasley (another pureblood her family was oddly not related to), an old friend of hers from Hogwarts, one day in Diagon Alley when she was out shopping for a new owl since her and Draco’s had died from Lucius’ spurt of anger a few weeks prior. 

  The second her face met the broad chest of Fred, she felt heat crawling along just under her skin, tingling through her entire body in seconds. Looking up at him, his face glowed incandescently. Soon, she found her other thoughts cloudy in comparison to the thoughts of him. Despite everything within her telling her that those tingles and clouded thoughts meant no good, she agreed to be accompanied by him to help her choose a new owl. “You know, Errol finally kicked the bucket, it was quite sad,” Fred told her as they stepped into the cluttered shop. “Miss the poor bugger.” He muttered, letting the door softly close behind him as he followed her farther into the shop.  

  “I’m sorry, I know how much Errol meant to you guys,” Y/N sympathized. For only living with Draco for six months, she grew oddly attached to their owl, feeling like she was the only one she could confess her true feelings about the marriage to. When Lucius had hit the bird with the curse, she felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest, but she didn’t dare react. When he and Narcissa had left a few hours after, she had immediately run up the stairs, locking herself in her and Draco’s shared bedroom for the rest of the night. “It sucks when they go.”     

  Fred hummed in agreement, looking around at the multitude of caged owls around them, all clicking their beaks and cocking their heads at them as they passed. “That it does, Y/N/N. That it does,” He spoke, reaching his finger out to stick a bent knuckle between the golden bars of one of the cages. The snowy owl lunged at it, snapping its jagged beak at his finger in an attempt to bite it. “Hey!” He exclaimed, jerking his hand back away from the cage before he could get caught by the beak. 

  Y/N turned to look at him, snickering when she saw him clutching his hand to his chest, leaning away from the cage as he eyed the bird. “Teach you not to put your finger in a random owl’s cage, Fred.” She chastised, turning back to inspect the owl in front of her. She heard the sound of Fred’s feet shuffling along the old floorboards towards her. 

  “She looked friendly enough,” He defended, coming to stand beside her, bending down to also inspect the owl she was considering. She tried to ignore the rush of dizziness she felt from him being so close to her, the heat of him waving across the small space to hit her. “Who do we have here?” He asked, not noticing her switching to breathe through her mouth in an attempt to block his intoxicating smell of gunpowder and firewood from wafting into her nostrils. She could feel his gaze settling onto the side of her face, but she tried her best to also ignore that. She reached her hand out, tapping the little information tag attached to the table below where the cage sat. 

  “She doesn’t have a name yet, but she’s a decently young Barn owl-” 

  “Just like your owl from Hogwarts! Whatever happened to her anyway?” Fred inquired. Y/N swallowed, her hand fiddling with the sparkling engagement ring that sat on her left ring finger. She didn’t want to tell him the truth, but she had nothing else to tell him. She wasn’t prepared to spend the day with Fred, let alone having him ask her questions like that. 

  “I had to get rid of her when I moved in with Draco, Lucius’ orders. I couldn’t have any possessions of my own that should be shared between a couple. So no owl, no dishes, nothing like that.” She muttered, casting a look down at her ring, watching as it caught the sunbeams pouring through the window of the shop. It was an extravagant ring. Tiny diamonds surrounded the large oval diamond and dotted all the way along the silver band. It took up so much room on her finger that it was a bit odd-looking. She thought it was an absolutely gorgeous ring, but she much preferred simpler rings compared to gigantic ones that nearly blind you in the morning sun. 

  “That’s insane, your parents couldn’t have kept your things if he requires you to follow that ridiculous, archaic rule,” Fred asked, bewildered. “Does that mean you had to get rid of your favourite teacup? The floral one that your grandmother gave you?” 

  “Unfortunately so.” 

  “Where did it go?” Fred blurted the question out immediately, a look of determination on his face. Y/N finally glanced at him again, her eyes catching on his jawline before stopping at the freckles that littered his face. His red hair burned brighter and his skin glowed in the golden rays, looking like one of the paintings you would find hanging in the Hogwarts corridors. 

  “I sold it to an antique store here on Diagon Alley, don’t know much more than that,” She clicked her tongue, reaching out to grab the ring on top of the owl’s cage. “I think I’ll take this lovely lady, she looks so calm,” She cooed, noticing how the owl barely shifted when she picked the cage up. “Wanna stick your finger in her cage?” She directed the last question to Fred, looking up at the older wizard with teasing eyes. 

  “Yeah, no thanks, I learned that lesson already today.” He scoffed, following her towards the cash in the middle of the store. Y/N let out a boisterous laugh, gaining the attention of the lady tending the cash. The older lady sat up straighter on her stool, tucking her copy of The Daily Prophet off to the side. 

  “Good morning, Mr. Weasley,” She greeted him kindly, reaching under the counter to grab a tin, setting it onto the counter and extending it towards the pair. “Sweet?” 

  “Don’t mind if I do Mrs. Echers,” Fred lit up, plucking one of the individually wrapped sweets from the tin, unravelling it and stuffing it into his mouth quickly. “Thank you.” He spoke through a muffled mouth, chewing on the taffy-like candy. The lady, Mrs. Echers, slid the tin towards Y/N, looking up at her with expectant eyes.

  “How about you dear?” 

  “If you insist. Thank you.” She smiled, gently taking one between her pointer finger and thumb, tucking it into the pocket of her jacket before placing the cage on the counter. Mrs. Echers put the tin back under the counter, looking between Fred and Y/N. 

  “You didn’t tell me you were engaged-” She paused, squinting her eyes at Fred to figure out which twin he was. Before Y/N could correct her, the lady sighed. “I’m sorry dear, I still can’t tell you two apart.” She shook her head, defeated. 

  “Don’t worry Mrs. Echers, I’m Fred,” Fred waved her off, looking down at Y/N with a goofy smile. “But I’m not engaged, she’s an old friend I bumped into.” He said the words with an almost disappointed voice that Y/N was sure she was imagining. Why would Fred be disappointed that she wasn’t engaged to him? He was Fred Weasley. The boy two years older than her, and her friend’s older brother. There was no way that Fred Weasley was disappointed about her getting married to someone else. 

  “Oh, really,” Mrs. Echers gasped, looking between them again as if she didn’t believe it. “I’m sorry dears. You guys just meshed so well together, I had just assumed,” She apologized, laying a gentle, frail hand on her chest, her shoulders drooping. “Now that I’ve embarrassed myself enough, will this girl be it today or do you need some food or anything?” 

  “No thank you, she’ll be all. We’ve still got plenty of supplies leftover from our last owl to do us for a bit,” Y/N told her, digging through her bag for the money Draco had given her. Before Mrs. Echers could tell her the total, she was already placing the exact amount on the table, Draco having given her just enough for any owl. “My Fiancé’s father is quite strict about how much money he should give me,” She admitted bashfully as Fred and Mrs. Echers gave her odd looks. “Very traditional.” 

  “Of course,” Mrs. Echers cleared her throat, sharing a look with Fred as Y/N looked down to zip her bag back up. The older lady placed the galleons into the tray before taking a piece of paper from the stack, slamming a stamp upon it. “Here is your receipt dear,” She smiled kindly at Y/N, handing her the slip. “Have a great day you two.” She waved to them as Y/N went to take the cage off the counter. 

  “Let me take her,” Fred told her, his hand beating her to grip the loop again, picking the cage off the counter himself. Y/N looked up at him, startled before she nodded. “See you, Mrs. Echers.” He nodded at the lady. Y/N smiled, waving in parting as she walked towards the door. The pair stepped out in the cold, making Y/N regret not wearing her travelling cloak this time round. She shivered slightly, the winter chill running right through her. 

  “Well, I guess I best be heading home, Draco will be wondering where I’ve gone to or if I’m buying the whole shop!” She joked, trying to take the cage from Fred, but he moved it out of the way, his brows furrowed in displeasure. 

  “How can you buy the whole shop if he limits how much money you can carry on you per trip?” He questioned. 

  Y/N sighed, dropping her extended arm. “It’s not Draco as much as it’s his father, he thinks that I shouldn’t be able to spend Draco’s money since I didn’t make it and we’re not married yet.” She explained, starting to walk along the snow-covered cobblestones. Fred scoffed, shaking his head. 

  “Why don’t you just work?” 

  “Because Lucius says that I shouldn’t work, that Draco should be the one controlling the money and he can’t control the money if I make my own,” She disclosed, her eyes trained on the path in front of her. “But Draco doesn’t agree with him, he always tells me that after Lucius has scolded me for doing something wrong.” She was quick to defend her Fiancé. 

  “If he didn’t agree then he should stand up for you,” Fred pointed out, walking slowly beside her, ignoring the path in front of him - instead, he was watching her. The conversation came to a natural end with that, bathing them both in a comfortable silence as they thought. Y/N tried to not think about how easy it was to be with Fred, how comfortable and relaxed she was with him compared to Draco, the same school-girl feelings kicking up from where they had settled at the bottom of her heart like dust. “Would you join me at The Leaky Cauldron for a drink or two?” He suddenly asked, looking back at her. 

  She looked over at him, shocked to see him already looking at her. “I really should be getting back, besides, I don’t have any more money on me.” 

  “Nonsense, you are your own person and I can pay for your drinks!” 

  “Then wouldn’t that make this a date?” 

  “That so bad?” Fred wondered flirtatiously. Y/N laughed shaking her head gently, a large smile covering her face as she tilted her head to the ground before looking back up at him, the smile still on her face, her eyes twinkling. 

  “It would be since I am engaged to get married, I can’t really be going on dates with another bloke.” She pointed out. Fred nodded, looking away to look ahead, his lips pressing together tightly as he nodded. 

  “Well, if you won’t let me treat you to a few drinks on me, would you like to come to my apartment for a free drink? And if you want, you can send me some knuts for the teabag or whatever you drink if that makes you feel better.” He offered, earning another laugh from her. 

  “Sure, why not,” She shrugged. “But you better expect to see this owl tomorrow morning.” She teased, pointing to the owl in the cage he still held. She felt excitement ignite within her as they saw the purple painted outside of the Twin’s shop appear. She had never been in the shop since it opened, she was excited to see how much it had changed in its success.

____          

  Y/N sat on the couch of the grand library, a book open on her lap, but she wasn’t paying any attention to the words on the pages. Instead, her mind was on the same fiery locks she gazed upon a week ago. Even in the big, silent house, her head was filled with the sound of his voice, easing the heaviness of her heart. Before she bumped into him, she was perfectly fine playing the doting wife to Draco, to accept her fate willingly, but now she couldn’t shake the pain she felt when the thought of the life that awaited her when she got married. Suddenly, being alone in this mansion felt like she was trapped up in a tower, far away from anyone who wasn’t her family or her Fiancé and his family. 

  Sighing, she blinked at the page, trying to unblur the words and take her mind off the man she most certainly shouldn’t be thinking about like this. For the week following their little encounter, she couldn’t get him out of her mind, every little thought was consumed either by the feeling he ignited within her or him himself. She was sure that their meeting was an off thing, never to happen again, especially since he hadn’t sent her another letter since she mailed him a few knuts, having had to lie to Draco and tell him that she had accidentally broken something when she was buying the owl and had to replace it. Even though Lucius had berated her for a good ten minutes afterward as Draco stood back silently, she found herself willing to tell a lie again if that meant that she could just contact Fred in someway. 

  Two clinks against the glass of one of the large windows of the library startled her. She looked towards the window, seeing a Tawny Owl perched just outside, pecking the window. Carina, her and Draco’s owl, chirped happily, shifting on her perch, her wings flapping as she waited for Y/N to let the other owl in. “You know this owl, Carina,” Y/N asked, gently closing the book and setting it on the empty cushion beside her, rising from the deep green velvet couch. Walking through the dust particles that danced in the heat of the morning sunlight, she unlocked the window, opening only half of it enough to let the light brown owl into the house. “Come on in,” She spoke gently, watching as the owl spread its wings and glided into the room, going right towards Carina and perching itself right by her. “Is this your friend?” She directed the question towards Carina, earning a small, happy chirp in return. Giggling, Y/N grabbed treats out of the jar, leaving the window open, allowing the cold winter wind to gush into the room. 

  Stroking the mysterious owl’s feathers, she extended her flat hand towards it. Clicking happily, the owl took the offered treat gently. Extending her hand towards Carina, the treat was swiped from her hand. Carefully, she took the rolled up piece of parchment from the owl’s leg, unravelling it. Walking back to the couch, her eyes skimmed over the messy but neat scrawl, the sight of it making her heart jolt. Slowly, she sunk down onto the couch, but still remained poised in case Lucius decided to swing by to ‘make sure she was acting appropriately’ while Draco was at work. 

  Dearest Y/N/N, 

  Fred’s letter started. 

  You must be wondering why I still haven’t sent a reply to your letter in the past six days. I was unable to continue correspondence due to the booming business the holidays are bringing to the shop, but I also had my own mission I needed to complete before I could send any sort of letter to you. 

  She smiled down at the little paragraph before her eyes flowed to the next one. 

  I am very sorry that I couldn’t have written a more formal letter and put it in an envelope, but sadly, with how busy the shop has been, I could only manage to scribble this down on a spare piece of parchment. It also didn’t help that it was George’s turn to grab stationary this month and he forgot. But despite the lack of supplies and time, I needed to write to you. 

  Now, to get to the point of this letter. I am requesting your presence at either my apartment or The Leaky Cauldron. I give you the choice because I know how you feel about the idea of me paying for your drinks. Bring sickles if you need, but I beg you to agree to meet me at eleven at your choice of location.

Much love, 

Fred Weasley

  She couldn’t help but smile down at the parchment, her body weightless as if she was floating around the sky among the clouds. The pain and loneliness of the cold mansion vanishing. Warmth wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “He wants to meet me somewhere,” She whispered, feeling a giddiness rise within her. She tried to squash it, to push it down. It was the same giddiness she felt when he had smiled at her in the hallways back in their school years. “He probably wants to catch up some more, that’s all,” She told herself, rising from the couch once again to make her way over to the writing desk by the open window. “I would love to go to The Leaky Cauldron, but Draco would never give me money if he knew I was meeting Fred there, best go to his apartment I guess.” 

  She sat Fred’s letter off to the side, noticing a scrawl on the back of the parchment, making her flip it over. 

  P.S., This is Earl the Tawny owl, George and I’s owl for the apartment. He took quite a liking to Carina, I think they are quite good friends already. 

  Shaking her head, she glanced up at the two owls sitting calmly on the perch, tilting their heads at each other. “Earl, nice to meet you.” She nodded at the light brown owl. Earl looked towards her, clicking as if returning the greeting. Nodding, Y/N grabbed a piece of clean parchment and an envelope, plucking the quill from the desktop and uncapping the inkpot. Dipping the end of the quill in, she wiped the access along the lip of the bottle, a bit of black ink rolling down the side of the jar. The quill scratched on the parchment as she elegantly wrote a greeting to Fred, a soft smile on her face as she wrote. 

  ____

  The next day at eleven, Y/N wandered into the Twin’s shop, spotting Fred right away. Standing behind the counter, he slid a big bag of products across the counter to a tired-looking man. Her feet easily made their way towards the tall ginger, the same soft smile that she usually wore around Fred taking its place on her face. The man walked past her, the strangers sharing a greeting nod in passing. “Eleven o’clock right on the dot,” Fred commented, stepping out from around the cash, showing Y/N his deep purple suit. “Always so punctual.” He teased, crossing his arms over his chest. 

  “One of us has to be, and it’s certainly not going to be you, now is it?” She teased back, pushing the thoughts of how good Fred looked in deep purple. Fred chuckled at that, nodding in agreement. 

  “Too true, Y/N/N,” He shook his head gently, nodding his head in the direction of his apartment. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He told her, turning on his heel and striding towards the stairs. Y/N followed after him, taking the shop and its contents in as she passed shelves practically bursting with all the Twin’s inventions on them. 

  “Should I be scared? You’re not going to try and test a product out on me like when we were in school, are you?” She posed the question nervously, eyeing Fred’s back as they climbed the stairs to get to the apartment door. Fred let out another barking laugh, glancing back at her to throw her a wink that made her knees nearly give out from under her. 

  “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” He teased, not easing any of Y/N’s nerves. Even while she was nervous, she still felt the ease of calmness Fred’s presence cast over her. Fred opened the door, stepping out of the way to let her through first. The small apartment greeted her for the second time. Though it was crowded with furniture, products, and other things, she felt something she never could feel in her house. It felt warm and cozy, like a home, not just a house to sleep in. “Take a seat on the couch, I’ll get us some tea.” Fred told her, not even feeling the need to direct her to the couch. She didn’t feel like he needed to either for she already felt like she knew the space better than she knew her own house. Shedding her travelling cloak and her winter jacket, she draped them over the back of the couch, perching herself neatly on the edge of the cushion as if Lucius would pop out of nowhere and scold her for not sitting properly. 

  “So what’s this thing you need to show me so bad?” She called behind her towards Fred. She could hear the clanging and the shuffling from him in the kitchen behind her, but she couldn’t hear his reply until she heard him walking up behind her. 

  “You’ll find out in a second, but first,” He paused, setting two teacups on the coffee table in front of them. “You have to let me sit down,” He joked, lowering himself onto the couch beside her, sitting much more relaxed than she did. He took a sip of his tea, eyeing her, waiting for her to take a sip of hers. Catching is drift, she grabbed the cup, bringing it to her lips and taking a dainty sip. Nodding, he set his cup back down and reached for a bag neatly placed by the coffee table. “Happy Christmas, Y/N/N!” He smiled brightly, handing her the gift bag. She gasped, looking at it. 

  “A Christmas gift,” She asked, looking at him with wide eyes. “Fred, you shouldn’t have,” She continued, but he brushed her off, placing it in her lap insistently. “But I can’t get you anything in return, Draco won’t let me.” She pointed out sorrowfully, playing with the bit of tissue paper sticking out of the bag. 

  “Nonsense,” Fred waved his hand in the air before pointing at the bag. “Your reaction to this gift is enough for me,” He insisted. “Now open it or I will open it for you.” With a sigh, she pulled the tissue paper out of the bag, gasping when she saw what was settled at the bottom of it. Looking over at Fred with wide eyes, she looked for a way to know that it was actually what she thought it was. Fred nodded, smiling at her reaction. 

  “Fred, I-I,” She stammered, reaching in to grab the item, slowly pulling it out for them both to see. “It’s my teacup,” She breathed out in disbelief, looking at the light blue floral cup all over. “And the saucer,” She exclaimed, noticing the small plate also tucked in the bag. “I don’t know what to say, this is simply amazing,” She continued to gush, gently placing it back in the bag. “Where did you find it?” 

  “Well, I went to all the antique stores in the Alley to see which one you might have sold it to. When I did find it, they had already sold it but turns out, they sold it to Mrs. Echers from the pet shop and so I asked her if I could buy it back for you and she just gave it to me.” He retold the story. Y/N sat the bag down on the coffee table, lunging towards him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders without thinking. She was flat against him as he held his hands away from her in a stunned shock before he let his arms loop around her waist, holding her to him tighter, his eyes closing at the feeling of her warmth. 

  It was the explosions of mini fireworks under the skin of her lower back where his hands rested that pulled her back to reality and caused her to pull away, remembering that she shouldn’t be holding someone like that when she was engaged. “But, I can’t keep it, Draco and Lucius would never let me bring this into the house.” She remembered sadly. For a moment, she felt like she was free from the weight on her chest, free from this marriage that she and Draco clearly didn’t want. 

  “I know,” Fred told her, a smirk playing on his beckoning lips. “That’s why I think you should leave it here. You can come over for tea when Draco is at work and you can use it here. Whenever you like,” He suggested, snatching the bag from the table and walking over into the kitchen. Y/N stood, following him. Her heels clicked against the floor of the apartment, not having the same empty echo they did on the floors of the mansion. “That way, we won’t lose touch with each other again.” Fred pointed out, taking the cup and the saucer, placing it in the cubert with their other teacups. 

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” She admitted, looking down at her feet as Fred turned to face her, the cubert door closing quietly. He gazed down at her, noticing the faint blush that appeared on her cheeks and nose. “I’ve missed talking to you.” She finally looked up at him when she was sure the rosy colour had faded, but her cheeks burned once again when she saw him gazing at her like that. 

  “I missed talking to you too.” He whispered. She was so wrapped up in the realization of how easy it was to talk to him, how easy it was for the pain and the stress from her life to fit in his hand as he relieved it from bearing down on her. It frightened her, but she couldn’t stop. She knew full well that she was falling for Fred Weasley again, but despite her telling herself not to, she couldn’t help but let the butterflies flutter. While preoccupied with her thoughts, she failed to notice how they grew closer together. On some level, she was aware of it and she wanted to lean closer to him, to press her lips to his, but her rational self was oblivious. 

  Finally cluing in, her rational self made no move to move away from him was his intoxicating scent flooded her senses. His breath fanned over her face the closer they got to each other, their feet shuffling and closing the distance slowly. She didn’t want to stop this. She wanted to do it even though she knew it was wrong. “Hey, Fred! You gotta come back down, we’re swamped-” George barged into the apartment. Y/N and Fred jumped, but they barely moved apart, their shocked faces only turning to look at the intrusion. “Oh, hello, Y/N, how’s Malfoy?” George wondered, having heard about her engagement from Fred. 

  “Uh, he’s, uh, good,” She nodded, her eyes darting around in panic. “He’s busy at work, but we think that will clear up after the holidays.” She sputtered nervously, stepping away from Fred hurriedly, coming back to her senses. 

  “Did you have something in your eye?” George wondered, watching her scramble towards the couch and grab her coat, pulling it on frantically. 

  “I’m sorry?” She blinked. 

  “Did you have something in your eye, was that why you guys were standing so close when I came in?”

  “Oh, uh, yeah,” She nodded, throwing her travelling coat over her arm and grabbing her bag. “I better go and let you guys get back to work.” She smiled towards Fred sadly, not actually looking at him. 

  “No, Y/N, you can stay, it won’t take long, we can have the rest of our tea when I come back.” Fred pleaded, not wanting her to leave. She shook her head, rushing towards the door. 

  “No, no, it’s alright, I have things to tend to at the house anyway. I’ll send you a letter, Fred.” With that, she escaped out the door, leaving a defeated Fred and a confused George behind. 

  Later that night, laying in the large bed, staring up at the silver moonlight lighting up part of the ceiling, she couldn’t help but think about Fred. Think about how it would feel for him to hold her as they fell asleep, think about how it would feel to kiss him, how it would feel to be wrapped up in his scent. Huffing, she turned her head, spying the dark figure of Draco laying next to her, his back to her. Even in the already large bed, she felt cramped laying next to him, but she also felt lightyears away from him. Sighing, she turned her eyes back to the glowing ceiling, her mind unable to stop thinking about Fred. She had tried so hard not to let him into her heart, not to let him plant himself into her perfectly laid plans, but here he was, slowly climbing up her tower like ivy, almost reaching her. 

____  

   It had been weeks since the incident, and though Y/N had been around Fred, she hadn’t let herself be expressive, instead, she pushed all her feelings to the bottom of her heart and did her best to keep them there until she left his apartment. Even with the tension, their conversations flowed smoothly. But all of those meetings were alone, there was nobody else there, just them. This one was different. This one wasn’t really even a meeting. This was the Ministry’s Christmas party. Y/N was forced to go because of her Fiancé and her future father-in-law both worked with the Ministry. Fred had to go because his father and his brother worked there. The small bit of knowledge that Fred was going to be there both excited and scared her. 

  His presence at the party was part of the reason she chose to wear this green, wrap dress with the thin straps, and sweetheart neckline. She looked amazing in it and felt amazing in it. She wanted to feel wanted and Fred was the only one she wanted to feel that from. Draco had barely looked at her when she finally descended from the grand staircase in their mansion, too busy talking to his father about how to act at this party. Draco’s hand on her lower-back didn’t ignite the little fireworks that Fred’s did. She didn’t have the same tingling spreading through her body as she did when Fred touched her. Her thoughts weren’t clouded like they were with Fred. 

  Even before they left the mansion, Y/N found herself longing to have some borrowed time with Fred. She wanted to sneak away with him, seeking the relief he brought her. When they finally arrived at the party and she spotted him across the room, his eyes already on her from the second she stepped into the room, that feeling only intensified. Draco, her Fiancé, was standing right next to her. She should have wanted to have his eyes on her, to feel his touch, to stare into his eyes, but she only wanted Fred. She wanted his eyes on her, she wanted to feel his hands on her lower back, she wanted to stare into his eyes. He had consumed her finally, his ivy growing to cover her tower, reaching inside to save her from her isolation. 

  “Yes, Y/N and I are still planning our wedding. I’ve just been so busy with work that I haven’t had much time to work out a budget for her and mother to work with,” Draco was locked in a conversation with some old Ministry official, a conversation that Y/N took no part in. Instead, her eyes were locked on Fred across the room, watching as he talked with his twin, sipping at his champagne fluke. “What season were you thinking of having the wedding, Y/N?” Draco asked her, pulling her from her daydream. 

  She pulled her eyes away from Fred, looking between the man and Draco, Lucius glaring at her subtlety as if to warn her not to mess up. “I was thinking of a spring wedding-”

  “A spring wedding,” Lucius repeated in an outcry. “You cannot have a spring wedding. There is mud all over the place. It’s a mess!” 

  “Yeah, I forgot. Maybe a summertime wedding would be better.” She corrected herself, taking a sip of her fluke. 

  “Summer weddings are amazing, but they get fairly warm so it would have to be an outdoor wedding,” The man nodded along. “But that doesn’t matter as long as you two are married and start having babies, that’s the main thing, right Lucius?” He exclaimed loudly making Y/N nearly choke on her champagne. The man’s exclamation gained Fred’s attention, making him look over at the group. He saw Malfoy’s arm around her waist, looking rather limp. It was as if he didn’t want to touch her. Y/N on the other hand looked like she wanted to escape his hold and escape this party in general, but she plastered on a fake smile and powered on. 

  “If you would all excuse me, I have to go powder my nose.” She wiggled out of Draco’s hold, none of them protesting her exit. Setting her champagne down, she exited the main ballroom, wandering through the empty halls, trying to get as far away from the party as she could. She failed to notice Fred following her in a distance, glancing behind him to make sure that nobody noticed or was following him. The slapping of dress shoes interrupted the clicks on her heels, startling her. Scared that it was Draco, she held her breath as she turned around, being pleasantly shocked when she saw Fred running towards her. 

  She stood there, shocked as he closed in on her, stopping in front of her as he panted slightly. “Hi.” He smiled down at her, breathless and still looking amazing in his black dress robes. 

  “Hi.” She said, equally as breathless just by looking at him. 

  “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t not tell you how great you look tonight, it just wouldn’t be right if you didn’t hear that,” He told her bashfully, stepping closer to her. “And that I missed you.” 

  She took a step back to create distance between them. “I missed you too, but we can’t do this here, what if Draco or Lucius saw? I would never be able to see you if they saw us.” She worried, looking down the vast hall towards where the party was, not seeing anyone. She let out a breath, looking back to Fred, their eyes connecting and her falling under his spell yet again. 

  “Why would that matter, we’re just friends catching up.” He asked. 

  “You know that we’re not just friends talking,” Y/N insisted, shaking her head. Fred bowed his head, licking his lips as he nodded, figuring that she would have brought this up sooner or later. “My life is a bloody fire and you’re the one who started it! I would have been fine being forced into this marriage, not knowing if there actually was someone out there for me to love and to love me, but then you reenter my life and that just shatters everything because no matter how hard I tried to fight this, you managed to plant yourself into my life.” She ranted, her chest heaving up and down as she started to panic, having just confessed that she loved Fred. She hadn’t even come to terms with that, let alone think about telling him that. 

  “And you think I wanted to do that? You think I wanted to fall in love with the woman who was already promised to another bloke? My feelings for you had never gone away and when I found out that you were engaged, it broke me, but I would rather you be in my life married to another than not be in my life at all. You think you’re the one with the problem? Think about how I feel, the woman I love is going to get married to another man and I can’t do anything about that-” 

  “Tell me to run.” She interrupted him, catching him off guard. 

  “What?” He blinked. 

  “Tell me to run,” She repeated. “If you tell me to run, I will leave Draco, leave the engagement and be with you, but I won’t go if there isn’t a chance of us being together because you’re it for me, Fred. You are the one I love, the only one I love.” She expressed, waiting impatiently for him to speak. 

  “I-I-” 

  “Fred, if you don’t tell me to run, I can’t leave. You’ll have to watch me become a Malfoy, watch me drink my husband’s wine like the doting wife I would have to be, watch me be by his side and bear his children. If I told him that I loved another, his father would destroy my house, destroy my family, destroy my owl again, destroy me. He would burn everything to the ground, but if I leave and be with you, I would have the courage to leave. But if you don’t tell me to run, then I will stay right where I am.” 

  Suddenly, his lips were on hers, moving passionately, their eyes closing as his tongue darted into her mouth. Pressing her against the cold stone wall, she slung her arms around his neck, pressing herself to him, her lips moving hungrily in time with his. Wedging his leg between her legs, she hiked her leg up to his hip. Her buttery smooth, dark red lipstick smudged against his lips and face as they lost themselves in each other, finally subcombing to their desires. She pulled away, panting, her head resting against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist as she struggled to reach the ground due to his height. “So, was that you telling me to run?” She whispered, her eyes dancing between his as she waited for his answer. 

  “That was me telling you to run.” He confirmed, smiling down at her. She beamed, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. 

  “Then let’s run and get my stuff out of that place before Lucius can even think about ruining it.” She smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to Fred’s lips. 

  “But, what about Draco?” 

  “I’ll take care of that later, first, let’s get me out of that house.” With that, they pulled apart, Fred setting her gently on the ground before taking off down the hall towards the floo networks, their hands connected and wild laughs echoing off the walls around them.

[wolfling06]

The Bigger they are, The harder they fall

Writer’s note: Hey! this is my first ever fic, I have dabbled some in writing but I have never written a full on fic so I apologize if there is anything wrong with it. anyways, Enjoy! (yes this is my original fic, please do not take it as your own and if you are to reblog or repost it, please tag me. thank you!)

Summary; Skid and Pump had quickly become the most well known of the extended group of friends as the most teasy, mischievous, and energetic lers. They were definitely a force to be reckoned with. And they both had their eyes on the tallest, strongest of the group. A true challenge to bring down, and one they both wanted to hear laugh. Whitty. (Lee!Whitty and Ler!Pump&Skid)

Warning: Slight language

  After the Lemon demon was defeated and all were saved, they began to hang out and visit one another more often, Pico, Keith, and occasionally even Carol would go with Whitty to the skate park or even do some graffiti with him, Gf would occasionally tag along but would also often spend more time with her parents. Skid and Pump were all over the place and visited everyone at the most random times, jumping in and occasionally even startling the others out of their previous activities. 

   The 2 were quickly known as the most mischievous and ones who would do anything to pull a good prank or 2. The only thing that could be matched with their love of pranks and adventure was their love of hearing their friends laugh.

   And oh, how they tried, they did many things. From bad jokes, to silly stunts, to even tickling. And once they found out everyone in the gang was even a little ticklish they both wanted to exploit this new discovery to the fullest. And they did, whether they had reason or not. 

   Many times they would target Keith, Pico, or even each other from time to time. Mostly because they were around their size and easy to get to. Carol and Gf were also similar in height but they saw the boys more often. However, that didn’t mean the duo weren’t up for a challenge. Whitty for example;

    Whitty was very tall, standing at only a single inch short of 9 feet, very tall and lanky with extreme strength and great self defense capabilities that his appearance would blind one from seeing at first sight. He was always calm and poker faced and he rarely smiled out of pure amusement. He was easily the tallest out of all of them. And, with Skid and Pump being the smallest of the whole group, that meant they were very much opposites. One would think it would be impossible for the 2 to take him down, especially long enough to successfully tickle him like they would the others.

  And at first, yea, it was very difficult. 

  Until they discovered a new approach to it.

  They first discovered this new technique while they had been visiting his place. They had stopped by on another one of their unexpected visits. At first, Whitty seemed a little bothered, but as it kept happening over and over and it seemed that no matter what he said or did, they always kept coming. He tried to keep polite about it but whenever he would win, he would get the kicked puppy look and they would slowly make their way out looking sad and dejected. Eventually, his guilt would take over and he would either let them stay or they would go and he wouldn’t even object to them the next time they came. Eventually, he just gave up trying all together and let them come and go as they please so long as they dont take or break anything.

   However, this time when they came they seemed a little...different.

They were energetic and chatty as usual, but they seemed a little more giddy than usual, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched, a feeling he particularly hated. He let the 2 wander the living room a bit before they settled down on the couch, both shifting a little to get comfy. He made his way into the kitchen and pulled out a large bag of Dorito chips and poured it into a bowl, making his way into the living room once more and placing it on the coffee table before setting up the Nintendo Switch and popping in Mario Kart, offering the other 2 one of the controllers. Pump went first against Whitty, it was a loser trade where the person that lost had to give it to the next person that had yet to play. In this case it was Whitty against Pump, who paid more attention to the scenery of the game then that actual race. Skid shouted, clearly hyped up, and stood up on the couch and began waving his arms in the direction he wanted Pump to go. The pumpkin head only occasionally took his advice as Whitty sat to the other end of the couch watching the 2 out of the corner of his eye with a smirk, he was clearly much farther ahead then Pump with him being in 2nd place and Pump being in 8th. The only reason why he wasn’t in 1st already was because of the stupid Metal Mario character, who was practically cheating, and wouldn’t let him pass and it was starting to get slightly annoying.

   They went through a couple rounds, Whitty never losing while Skid and Pump passed it back and forth repeatedly. Though he noticed that, thankfully, they were no longer watching him so intently, that was a relief. He began to relax a bit, reminding himself that they were just children and he was much bigger and stronger than them. ‘C’mon, relax! They’re just children, stop being so paranoid.’ he thought to himself as he tried to focus more on the game then his own thoughts, he turned a sharp corner and nearly cursed when his avatar, Bowser Jr., almost went flying off the track. He managed to catch himself at the last second and made a slick recovery. However, hearing a sudden bark of a laugh paired with a whoop from the Spooky Duo didn’t make him feel so confident. He glanced at their side of the screen and noticed they had a blue spiked shell in their avatar’s hand. “Oh shit..” he muttered upon seeing it. Quickly, he slammed the breaks and let Metal Mario, someone he had just managed to pass, go ahead of him just as the shell went blazing by. He sighed with relief, glad it hadn’t hit him.

   “Aww, c’mon! That was reserved just for you!” Skid blurted, though there was no real agitation behind his words, allowing Whitty to give him a smug smirk and said “I have been playin’ this for a while, kid, I have seen all the stunts you ever even hope to pull.” He kept his eyes glued on the screen, unaware of the glint in their eyes and the small snicker the two exchanged. “You have seen all the stunts we hope to pull, you said?” Skid asked while Pump was still snickering slightly to himself. “Tch, yea, that's what I said.” He stated simply, not really paying attention to what they were trying to say. Until- 

“Now!” “Wha- hey!” Thwump!

The 2 didn’t wait, the game unpaused and still running, they tackled Whitty against the couch, being careful not to hurt him. They had to act quick, they had to! Otherwise, they wouldn’t have any way of getting to him. Before he had time to utter a single syllable, they attacked. Pump and Skid quickly hopping onto his arms to keep them pinned to the couch, they were sill sitting up but he was stretched out enough he might as well have been laying down, and proceeded to quickly skitter their fingers everywhere they could reach; ribs, stomach, sides, neck, somehow under his arms, hips. 

They moved quickly and held on for dear life, moving quickly and shifting their own body weight continuously, from sitting on his arms to his hips and at his side to just either side of him to both on one side-. They went everywhere they could, going all over the place so it would be harder for him to catch them or try to find a pattern and stop them. His laughter was loud, belly laughter. Though not unpleasant, he squirmed the best he could in an attempt to find some way to escape, but with them all over the place it was pretty difficult. 

“BAHAHAhaha! Whahahat are yohou twoho dohoing?? Gehet off mehehe!”

“Its working! Keep going Pump!” Skid called excitedly. Their plan was working! They continued, unintentionally forming a bit of a pattern, but not enough for Whitty to keep up or be able to stop them. He pulled his arms in and attempted to hug himself to protect the majority of his torso from the brunt of it all. His legs kicked out behind the other 2, though he was consciously making sure he couldn’t risk their wellbeing, he had enough self control for that. 

  “Stahahahap geheht ohoff of mehehe!!” he laughed out, attempting to carefully push Pump away from his side while trying to fend off Skid from his stomach. The 2 only giggled with glee, proud in themselves that this was working, and ecstatic that they had finally managed to successfully find a way to tickle their Object headed friend silly. 

 Skid glanced down and an idea popped into his skull, lighting his eyes up with great glee and an idea. Glancing down he noticed that, during his squirming, Whitty’s hoodie had ridden up some, revealing the pitch black, quivering flesh beneath. This was perfect! Taking a deep breath, he wasted no time and plunged his face into that thin like of flesh, pulling his hoodie up a tad for more lee way, and blew.

And by God, the shriek that followed.

 “SHAAAAAHAHAHA-! FAHAHACK OHOFF!!” he exclaimed, his laughter reaching a whole new pitch and in a newfound hysteria. Skid and Pump exchanged a look, man this was awesome!! No one had ever heard the bomb head laugh so hard! Skid proceeded to pepper more raspberries along his stomach, lifting his hoodie up some to spread around the love. Pump continued to tickle along Whitty’s ribs. Though, his curiosity got the best of him, he was aware that some people, like Keith for example, had ticklish hands, and other unusual places, maybe Whitty did too? It was a weird thought and definitely one only Pump would have had, but it was a thought nonetheless that he wanted to experiment on. He pressed a sweet spot into his ribs, earning a startled yelp and a hand planted into his chest in an attempt to push him away. Gently of course. But this gave Pump his window, dropping everything, he wrapped his legs around Whit’s arm for a better hold. Pulling his fingers back, gently of course, and fluttered his own fingers along the palm of his hand, from the ridge to the base.

“*snrk!* heheey! *snrk! *snrk!* Stahahap!!” Pump’s eyes widened, Whitty was snorting?? Oh my God, this child’s mind was blown. Skid had lessened the raspberries and had gone back to scribbling so that their bomb headed friend could go longer without reaching his limit, which explained why his laughter had calmed down some. Skid looked up in surprise and noticed what Pump was doing when an idea of his own came, he gestured for Pump to make a raspberry, The pumpkin headed kid was quick to catch on, before making his way further down the couch. Pump proceeded to bury his mouth into the center of Whitty’s palm. A sudden sort, slightly longer in duration that the previous, could be heard in response. Pump smiled and prepared to do it again when-

Quickly, it was soon followed by Whitty suddenly, bolting upright to emit an almost literal shriek before falling back clutching the couch in an attempt to not kick or struggle too much or hard, throwing his head back in absolute hysterics, his face a bright orange blush. Startled by the sudden reaction, he looked for Skid, finding him holding Whitty’s left ankle in a secure head lock, skittering his fingers along his sole. His other leg kicked out but, for the most part, hung off the side of the couch. There was a very evident struggle in the poor lee as he tried to keep from kicking anyone, or anything, out of reflex to the new found sensations. Pump smiled and, giving his hand one final raspberry, dove down to grab the other foot, giving it the same treatment as SKid was the left. 

“FAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA-!” Unable to form any coherent words or responses to this torment, Whitty was forced to just endure it, he tried to pull away, to break free somehow, but his strength had been dwindled down from earlier. Meaning, he was left to succumb to the maddening sensations at his feet. Throwing his head back as hysterical belly laughter poured from him as freely as a faucet. 

   “Coochie coochie coo~ Whitty! Heehee, your laugh is so loud!” Skid laughed, enjoying the reactions he was getting. “Heheh, yea! Especially when I do this!” Pump agreed, running his fingers under Whitty’s toes momentarily, earning a startled squeal before more peals of bellowing laughter followed. After what felt like an eternity, he felt their hands slow to a stop, releasing him and allowing him a breather. He had to admit, they were good at reading people, they must have noticed when he was beginning to reach his limit and had stopped just when he was really needing a break. He slumped into the couch, pulling his hood over his head, and pulling the laces so it closed around him, thus hiding the massive, practically glowing blush and face splitting smile there. Residual giggles and panting could, however, be easily heard. He pulled his feet away from them and bent his knees so as to tuck them underneath him best he could, his arms dropping onto the couch, going limp. The other 2 smile brightly. Yes, they had been keeping close watch. And both, the entire time in fact, had yet to hear him sound desperate or genuinely angry or upset. If anything, he almost sounded like he was enjoying himself. And the smile Skid could see through the small gap in his hood confirmed it.

   “Heheh, that was fun! We should do that again some time!” Pump giggled with glee, clearly pleased. “Yea! That was fun! Be right back.” Skid said, getting up and making his way to the kitchen, coming back a few seconds later with a glass of cool water in hand, handing it to the exhausted object head that rested on the couch. Whitty sat up enough to be able to drink it, losing the rim of his hood so he could so.

  “Hff hff.. Yohou both suhuck…” he panted, though both could tell there was no real malice in his voice. Upon being able to see his eyes, both smiled brightly. Why?

Because there was a glitter in them, one that reminded them of Keith, who was open about enjoying being tickled. Both could easily tell, seeing that glimmer alone, that he had enjoyed it. And Pump was the first to call it out.

  “Heh, I can tell you liked it, Whits! You look so happy!”

He paused for a second and gulped down that last mouthful of water before correcting the pumpkin head.

“I did not like it!” he protested. Though, the deepening blush on his face told them otherwise.

  Skid chuckled lightly, both still smiling brightly. “You go ahead and rest, Whitty, we’re gonna finish this round and make up all the lost time!” 

  As the 2 sat back down, recollecting the dropped controllers and continued playing, Whitty watched the screen closely as he grumbled to himself. That was humiliating! Taken down and rendered helpless by 2 measly children! Let alone taken down with only tickles! The ghostly after tickles were still there, but he ignored them, they weren’t as bad anymore and were tolerable. ‘But maybe….yea, maybe it… wasn’t so bad..’ he thought to himself, glancing down at the glass he had been given, now only half full. 

…

Yea, he would never admit it. But yea, maybe it was a little fun.

But still, he wasn’t gonna show it. Not by a long shot.

He sat up, a new idea forming in his brain and a smirk with a whole new meaning to it forming on his lips. Slowly he edged his way towards the other 2, setting down his glass and cracking his knuckles as he did. Pump glanced up momentarily to notice this before freezing entirely, his eyes wide and a nervous smile forming on his face as he did. His avatar began to slow down and Skid noticed, “hey, what are you slowing down for, Pum-....oh….heh...h-hello...” Skid looked over and noticed the predatory grin on Whitty’s face as he now towered over them. 

  “U-um, heheh…..bye!” Skid squeaked, dropping his controller on the couch, grabbing Pump’s arm and attempted to get off the couch, to make a bolt for it. But was stopped when he felt an arm wrap around him, pulling both him and Pump into the awaiting lap of the Bomb head above. Pump let out a startled yelp upon the sudden and deft swoop. Both looking up with anticipation and nervousness in their eyes and smiles. And a devious one in Whitty’s.

“Heh, where do you 2 think you’re going? Oh no, you 2 aren’t going anywhere..”  he curled his fingers to make faux claws, looming them over the 2 who now squirmed with anticipation. Oh, revenge was gonna be sweet! “Hope you two are ready, cuz you guys are gonna be stuck here for a long time.”

And he wasn’t joking. In fact, their squeals and laughter could be heard by pedestrians walking by for quite a while.

End!

Hope you enjoyed it! I am not sure of the quality of the end there. But still, hope you enjoyed it!

Thank you for reading!

[morningfears]

Hiking

Rating: PG-13 (Language, mostly)

Summary: College!Luke and hiking for the 10k celebration. 

Word Count: 2.1k (...this was supposed to be a drabble, whoops)

“Tell me why we’re doing this again.”

You listened to the crunch of gravel beneath Luke’s feet, a signal that he was rounding the car to meet you at the trunk, and bit back a laugh as you reached for the extra water bottle you’d packed because you knew that he was going to forget his own. He’d been whining since you picked him up, a pout on his lips and sunglasses perched on his nose, and you knew that he’d stop the moment you truly got annoyed with him.

For now, though, you were enjoying making fun of him just as much as he was whining.

“It was my turn to pick our activity. I like to hike.” You pressed the bottle into his hands, a saccharine smile on your lips, before you closed the trunk and shrugged. “I also like to see you miserable.”

He turned his head toward you, bright blue eyes hidden by the sunglasses he’d snagged from you years ago, and scowled. “You owe me pancakes for this. It’s so early.”

“It’s nearly ten, Luke.” He waved a hand dismissively when you scoffed, unashamed of his status as the late riser in your friendship, and leaned against the car to take a sip of his water. “Don’t drink too much. If you puke on me, I will murder you. No one will find your body up here.”

Luke snorted at that, his hands moving to tighten the cap on his water bottle before he waved them at the nearly full parking area. “There are literally fifty other people on this trail right now. Someone would find me.”

“Shut up and start moving, yeah?”

Luke breathed an exaggerated sigh and made a show of dragging his feet, sending dust and rocks flying in his wake, but followed you toward the trail. He was joking - that much he made clear when he cracked a grin at your laughter - and you knew that he had no intentions of making the hike miserable for either of you. He was annoyed to be awake so early on his only day off but there was no one he’d rather spend the day with.

And, besides, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone hiking with you.

The first time Luke went hiking with you, you were both freshmen in college and equally shy. You were a friend of a friend of a friend - Ashton was dating your roommate’s older sister - and had somehow gotten roped into going hiking with the group of them. It was Ashton’s idea, to drag all of you out to the middle of nowhere right before fall break, and Luke had only tagged along because Calum and Michael dragged him.

While you weren’t exactly the most social of the bunch, it was clear that you and Ashton were the only ones who’d actually hiked before. Whereas everyone else showed up in black, wearing various old band t-shirts and, in Michael’s bad judgement and mildly hungover case, jeans, the two of you wore actual gym gear and appropriate shoes. 

Luke quickly fell to the back of the pack, happy to be away from the chatter and the attention as he struggled up the mountain, and somewhere along the trip, you fell back with him. He knew that you were capable of beating them all up the mountain - and probably back down, if he had to wager a guess - but you kept pace with him and never even made a face at the sweat that made his t-shirt stick to his skin.

You were halfway up the mountain before either of you spoke - to everyone’s surprise, it was him; he complimented the All Time Low sticker on your water bottle - but it seemed as if neither of you knew how to shut up after that moment.

Your friendship formed quickly, bolstered by your commonalities and strengthened by your differences. If you weren’t in class or at work, you were at Luke’s. And if you weren’t there, the pair of you could usually be found elsewhere together.

When he moved into a frat house and you moved into an apartment, nothing changed. The brothers knew you, just as your roommates knew him, but your nearly nightly outings - to diners, to the movies, to the mall, to the park near campus - shifted to once a week activities that you took turns planning once you both delved deeper into your respective majors.

Luke was your best friend, just as you were his, and you were grateful for the strange hike that brought him into your life. That was, however, to everyone’s surprise, all that you were.

You had a small crush on Luke when you met - even drenched in sweat and struggling to keep himself upright, trudging up the side of a mountain he was cute - but the more you got to know him, the greater your crush grew. He was everything you’d always wanted, all wrapped in an adorable package, but you told yourself early on that you weren’t going to push; whatever happened with Luke, happened.

You knew, deep down, that Luke felt the same. You saw the way that he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You saw the way he blushed when you complimented him or the way he grew flustered whenever anyone pointed out how cute the two of you would be together. Neither of you hid your feelings well but you were content to see where things went.

You always said that you’d rather have him in your life as just a friend than not at all.

Your line of thinking had recently undergone a bit of a shift. You were both approaching your senior year; two semesters away from the great unknown. Luke had plans to stay in the city and work for a record company. You were weighing your options to continue your education and considering leaving to give life elsewhere a shot.

It hurt, thinking that you’d be separated from Luke after so long of him being your only constant, but you knew that you either needed to make a move or move on.

“Alright, you haven’t said a word in almost a mile. Stop thinking, start talking.”

Luke’s words, said through huffs of air forced past his lips, broke you from your thoughts and you blinked when you noticed just how far down the trail you’d made it. You were glad you’d chosen one so familiar - the one you hiked the first time you met and found yourself returning to, time and time again - as you’d mostly relied on muscle memory to make it this far.

“Nothing to talk about. Just stressing over that Media Law final. Baker’s a dickhead and is going to make it unnecessarily difficult.” You knew that you should tell Luke the truth, spill your worries as you normally did, but you couldn’t force the words out.

It was easier this way, to continue on as you had for the past few years, and pretend that the heartache blossoming in your chest wasn’t real.

“Bullshit.” Luke stopped, nudged you to the side of the trail to let others pass, and met your eyes to search them. “That was your sad face. Baker gets the mad face. What’s up? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Of course I do, Luke.” The words fell past your lips readily, confident and clear, because you knew that. You knew that you could talk to Luke about absolutely anything and he would be there to listen. You knew that he’d never judge or laugh, not if it was a serious discussion, and that helped calm the raging sea of emotions in the pit of your stomach.

But nothing could quell the ache that settled in your bones when he looked at you the way he was.

He had a habit of looking at you like you were the one who hung the stars and moon. His eyes, usually unfocused as he zoned out, were clear and bright and shining with an admiration that rolled off him in waves. Whenever he looked at you like that, right in the eye, he always had a hand on you in some way. This time, he had one hand on your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek.

“What happens next May?”

Luke blinked, confused by the question. “Next May? After graduation?” When you nodded, your eyes flicking between his own and the sand beneath your feet, he shifted his weight and nodded slowly. “I’m staying here and you… You’re going to do something amazing. You might stay here, you might move to fucking Siberia. But whatever you do, you’re going to do it well because that’s just the kind of person you are, honey. You can’t half-ass anything, even if you try.”

Luke grinned when that got a small laugh but it was quickly replaced with a frown when you shook your head. “That’s not what I meant.” You trailed off, almost embarrassed to ask, before the words escaped your lips in a near whisper. “What happens to us?”

That was a question Luke had long considered. He, too, wondered what would happen to you both as you moved into the working world and farther away from one another. He wondered what would happen if you left the city. He wondered how he would continue on without seeing you every day.

And he realized that he didn’t want that.

“We’ll still be us,” he answered finally, his voice just as quiet as yours had been. “We’ll see each other every minute we can and if you decide to go somewhere else, we’ll FaceTime so much that we might as well just livestream our lives to each other. If you leave, I’ll come visit whenever I can and you know you’ll always have a place to stay with me if you want to come back. Nothing will change for us after graduation because I love you and I won’t let it.”

Before you could speak, before you could ask him if he really believed that was possible, Luke continued speaking.

“You know that I mean that in every sense of the word. You’re my best friend and I love you but you know that I also love you with a  capital ‘L’. Being friends with you is something I’d never change but I don’t want to spend our last guaranteed year together wondering what could be. I don’t want to just dream about kissing you, I want to actually kiss you. I want to wake up to you asking me to go hiking and kiss you to convince you to stay in bed. I want to hold your hand and wake up beside you every morning. I want to be the annoying couple everyone already thinks we are because it’s us. And it always has been.”

It felt as if a weight was lifted from your chest as Luke rambled, words spilling past his lips in a rush. He was passionate, certain, and braver than you ever could be. He took the first step, just when you were beginning to think neither of you would ever make it there, and the only way you could think to respond was with a kiss.

Pressing your lips to Luke’s didn’t send fireworks erupting across the sky nor did it feel as if the earth was going to shatter at your feet. It did, however, feel as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. You were wrapped in his arms, hands tangled in his curls, and nothing had ever felt more right.

You were upset that you’d wasted so much time, waiting for life to just happen. But, as you pulled away and rested your forehead against Luke’s, you decided that nothing else mattered anymore. The future, the one where you and Luke existed and everything else came as it would, was all that mattered.

Luke, with his bright grin and flushed cheeks, grabbed your hand and began tugging you back the way you’d come. With a laugh, you dug your heels into the ground and shook your head. “Nope. Finish hike first. Then, we go to my place and shower.”

“You’re going to make your boyfriend hike two more miles?”

“For every half mile you finish, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“Make it every quarter and I get to touch your butt.”

“Shut up and start hiking, Hemmings.”

With another grin in your direction, Luke returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose and kept his hand in yours as he tugged you along down the path. In the future, there would be more hikes and more kisses.

And neither of you could wait.

___________________________________

Author’s Note: ....there’s not as much hiking in this as I wanted but I got started and it, uh, had a mind of its own. Anyway, two fics in like a week? Who am I?

[plaidbooks]

I was going to request a Nick fic, but I see you have a lot coming up so I’ll chill ☺️ Instead can I request a Rafael one where him and Liv actually do have some sort of secret thing going on, but reader starts as a new detective with SVU and her and Rafael have an instant connection.

To Love Again

A/N: Heya Anon--never feel hesitant about sending in a request! Even if I’m backed up on someone, I’ll gladly take any request haha!. Anyways, this got...a lot more angst than I meant for it to, whoops. I hop you enjoy (and there’s a small possibility for this to get a sequel, depending on inspiration).

This also jumps perspective, between Rafi and reader. Just a heads-up.

Tags: implied smut, angst with a happy? ending, mentions of sexual assault (no details given), alcohol

Words: 2650

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @dianilaws

It had started one drunken night, by mutual agreement, after a rough case and an even rough loss. Rafael and Olivia had gone out for drinks, to take the edge off after getting back the “not guilty” verdict. To show that they weren’t mad at each other. To show that they could work through the arguments and disagreements they had through the whole trial, the whole case. And the night had ended with Rafael waking up in Olivia’s bed. It was awkward at first, but they had talked about it; they cared for each other, but not in that way. It was simply…stress relief. And it didn’t happen again. Not until another rough loss, about two months later.

“We’re both single adults—we’re being safe about it. Who cares?” Olivia had said one day, and Rafael had agreed. Like they said, they cared about each other. Just not in that way. Who cares if they found relief in each other’s bodies once in a blue moon? It didn’t go beyond that, which was fine with Rafael; his heart was too shriveled up for a relationship, anyways. This was simpler, easier.

 **********************

There was a knock on his office door late in the afternoon. Glancing up, he called out for whoever it was to enter, curious as to who was coming to meet with him. He had no appointments at this time, though it wasn’t rare that people stopped by for one thing or another. He quirked an eyebrow though as you entered his office; he had never seen you before.

“Mr. Barba? I’m here to drop off some signed statements from the Jackson case, and to pick up a warrant for Wilson’s apartment,” you said shyly, coming to stand in front of his desk. You held the paperwork out to him, and he took it from you, that eyebrow still raised. You swallowed nervously as his bright green eyes roamed over your face.

“And who are you?” Rafael asked. His voice was light, a conversational tone.

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Oh! Detective [Y/L/N]; I just started with SVU a few days ago. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself,” you replied, smiling sheepishly and holding out your hand.

His lips twitched up at the corners, and he took your hand, shaking it. Olivia had told him that she was getting a new detective soon, but he didn’t know she already did. Nor that you would look so….

“You said the Wilson warrant, correct?” Rafael asked, pulling his hand back, flipping through files.

“That’s the one.” You watched his fingers run over the pages on his desk, flicking through the paper. Your face grew warmer as you thought about what those fingers would feel like against your skin, moving down your body, pushing under your pants….

“Ah, here it is,” he said, breaking you out of your lewd thoughts. He passed the folded warrant to you, and you thanked him, face now completely on fire. His eyes were sparkling with mischief, as if he knew exactly where your mind had been. “Would you like to get a nightcap with me tonight, Detective? Get to know each other a little better?”

Your breath hitched. “I-I’d like that very much,” you replied, smiling at him. “I’m off at 8 tonight. Is that alright?”

Rafael nodded. “Of course. Meet me at Forlini’s after you’re off.”

You turned to leave, warrant in hand, then you remembered that your new business cards had come in, with your personal cell phone number on it. Taking one from your pocket, you handed it to Rafael. “Here’s my number…if I’m late, feel free to text. I’m the new kid, so don’t be surprised it I get stuck with OT,” you laughed, and he smirked, tucking the card into his pocket.

 ***********************

You made it to Forlini’s shortly after you got off; no OT, not tonight. Rafael was already sitting at the bar, a glass of amber liquid in front of him. His suit jacket was off, hanging over the back of his chair. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms, and you had a moment to stare before he turned and saw you heading over towards him.

“Detective,” Rafael greeted, nodding towards you, a grin on his face. “What are you drinking?”

“Ah, vodka cranberry. I’m on call tonight, so only one drink for me,” you smiled back at him. You could hold your liquor well enough that one drink wouldn’t kill you. But that was it; you didn’t want to mess anything up, especially this early in your new career as detective. You worked too hard to get here.

Rafael nodded in acknowledgement. “Fair enough.” He waved down the bartender, ordering your drink onto his tab.

“Thank you,” you said, to both the bartender and Rafael as you were handed your drink. You both sat in silence, sipping your drinks, eyeing each other. Rafael was, well, attractive. You had heard about him, of course; when Olivia had sent you to get a warrant earlier that evening, everyone in the department had a warning for you about his sass, his sarcasm. But he seemed nice enough, and those eyes…those forearms…those fingers….

“What made you decide to go for SVU?” he asked, bringing your attention back to him.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve always wanted to help people. And so many of my friends were…assaulted when I was younger, back before we knew what the word meant. I’ve seen firsthand what it can do…what it does to people. And if I can help even one person reclaim their life, then it’s all worth it.” You didn’t mean to go so in depth, but once you started talking, you realized you couldn’t stop. And something about Rafael seemed…comforting. Like you wanted to tell him your whole life story. Maybe that’s why his conviction record was so high.

He nodded along with you, his eyes boring into you, watching you intently. “That’s a noble cause. You do realize that there’s a lot of grey areas in this job, though, right? And that the justice system doesn’t always win out?” He said it matter-of-factly, his voice unwavering. But there was a slight sadness underneath, tinting his eyes as he said it.

“I-I know…. We won’t always get our guy. We won’t always win. But the fight is worth it, if only to validate the victims, to put the behavior in the spotlight, to make it easier for the next victim,” you sighed, “because there will always be another victim.”

Rafael noticed how your voice had changed and decided to go for a lighter topic. “So, who’s your partner?”

“Uh, Fin, so he can keep an eye on me. And also Carisi—he tells me it’s because it’s getting colder and Fin doesn’t want to leave the warmth of the precinct,” you answered, smiling slightly.

“Stuck with Fordham, huh? I don’t know how you’re going to stay sane with him. He’s started shadowing me, and I already have a headache just thinking about it.”

You laughed, and Rafael chuckled. “Come on, he’s not that bad. A little excitable…. That’s cool that he’s shadowing you, though. Getting some hands-on experience.”

“Yeah, cool for him. Though, I have to admit, he has some…decent points every now and again,” Rafael conceded. Then, he gave you a sharp look, “you are to never tell him that I said that.”

 **********************

Conversation flowed easily between you two, and you ended up staying much later than you thought at Forlini’s, simply chatting with the counselor. You switched to water after your one drink, making sure you had a clear mind in case you were called in. But by 11pm, you still hadn’t received a call, and you were getting tired.

“I think I should head home…I got work in the morning,” you said reluctantly. You didn’t want to leave; you were having a lot of fun with Rafael. You had no idea why the other detectives had warned you about him.

“I’ll walk you out,” Rafael replied, finishing his drink and waving the bartender down. You waited while he paid, thanking him again for your drink. And then he was leading you out of the bar, his hand on your lower back, sending electricity through you.

“Thank you for tonight, Rafael; I had a lot of fun talking with you,” you smiled at him.

He grinned back at you, waving down a cab for you. “I had a good time, too. I’m excited to work with you.” A cab pulled up, and he opened the door for you. You brushed past him, and he grabbed your elbow, turning you back to him. His lips were suddenly on yours, the kiss gentle, innocent. You froze for a moment before you kissed him back, savoring the taste, the feel of him against you. Pulling back, you both looked at each other, panting slightly. It took your brain a moment to catch up to what just happened, and now that it did, you panicked, mumbling a goodnight, and climbing into the taxi, leaving Rafael standing on the sidewalk.

 *************************

He wasn’t sure what had come over him, what had possessed him to kiss you in front of Forlini’s. This was…different than what he had with Olivia. With Liv, it was all stress that was shoved down, down until it burst out of both of them. There were no feelings when it came to sleeping with Liv, just primal urges, actions. But sitting in Forlini’s, talking to you, Rafael felt….

That was just the problem, wasn’t it? Rafael felt, something that hasn’t happened in so long, he almost forgot what it meant to feel, what it…felt like. And you had returned the kiss! But then, before he could even attempt a next step—whether it was an apology or inviting himself over to your place, even he wasn’t sure—your eyes had gone wide with surprise, and you had fled. And now, Rafael was at a loss for what to do. He had your number; should he call you? Text? Should he apologize? Or should he lay on the charm, try and slip into your pants, your bed? And what the fuck was he going to tell Liv? Sorry, we can’t sleep together anymore cause I’m fucking your new detective? But that wasn’t even true yet! Sighing, he went back into Forlini’s, ordering another drink.

 ************************

Thankfully, one of these situations had fixed themselves…though, it still fucking hurt. Olivia had come into Rafael’s office late one night, a few days after the incident at Forlini’s, closing and locking the door—the tell-tale sign that they were going to discuss some…personal matters.

“We can’t do this anymore, Rafa,” Liv had murmured, her voice soft. Even in his secluded office, the walls had ears. And while she was being vague on purpose, Rafael understood immediately.

“What’s changed?” he asked idly. He wasn’t…mad, but he was a little surprised, and hurt. He had enjoyed having a warm body in his bed, rather than his hand.

“I’ve…” Olivia dropped her voice lower, and Rafael had to strain her ears to hear her. “I’ve started seeing someone.” Rafael nodded, keeping his face neutral. He was happy for his friend; she deserved someone who loved her, cared for her. But he couldn’t stop the jealousy that cropped up. Not so much at her, but at the fact that she had found someone.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted,” Rafael smirked, going back to the motion he was currently filling out. He thought back to the kiss with you, and his heart constricted.

“Are we okay?” Liv asked, her voice low.

Rafael glanced up at her, his eyes softening. “Of course, we are. I’ll always care about you, Liv. And I’m happy you found someone.”

Olivia nodded once, her hand rubbing Rafael’s shoulder lovingly, before she left his office. Sighing, he pulled out his phone, your card, and typed in your number.

 ************************

You didn’t know why you answered your phone when an unknown number called, nor why you gave him your address when you learned it was Rafael. You weren’t entirely sure why you let him into your apartment when he showed up 20 minutes later, nor why you opened the bottle of spice rum when he asked if you had alcohol. But the most confounding thing to you was when he kissed you again, you didn’t stop him. In fact, you escalated it, pulling his shirt off.

Groaning as you woke up, you froze as you felt strong arms around your naked body, a warm chest against your back, a heavy breath tickling your neck. Oh fuck, you didn’t…no way. But the soreness between your legs, your naked body against his, and your memories of the night prior were slowly coming back to you, and you grimaced. You were not the type of person to sleep with someone you had just met, drunk or not. It didn’t matter that you found him attractive, or that from what you remembered, the sex was phenomenal. This wasn’t you, so what happened?

“Morning,” Rafael’s voice was still thick with sleep, husky in your ear. His lips brushed over your shoulder, his arms tugging you tighter against him.

“Uh, morning Rafael,” you replied softly. But he heard the hesitance in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his breath warm on your skin.

You sighed, rolling over to look at him. “This…I don’t know how to say this…” you trailed off, and he furrowed his brow. “I’m…I don’t just…sleep around with people….”

Realization swept over his face. “Oh. I’m…I’m sorry. You seemed…you seemed okay with it last night. And I used a condom—”

“No, I’m not blaming you, I promise.” You sighed, looking away. The sadness, the regret on his face was too much for you to bare. “I mean…I like you, Rafael, but I don’t know you.”

In the softest voice, he said, “this is…this is all I know. I’m so sorry.” He rolled over, pulling away from you. He got out of bed, moving around your room, grabbing his clothes, and pulling on articles of clothing as he went.

You watched in silence, your heart breaking. What did that mean? “I’d like to, though…know you, that is.” Rafael turned to look at you, his brow furrowed once more. “But let’s take it slow, go out on a date or two, learn about each other.”

“A date?”

You smiled softly at him. “You have been on a date, right?” you joked.

“…not in many, many years.”

Your smile faded and your heart strained for the man—that kiss at Forlini’s and last night made so much more sense now. You wondered when the last time he felt genuine love was…and how badly it must’ve ended for him to be this broken over it.

“Then I’ll remind you. We’ll go slow, take baby steps…that is, if you want,” you said.

Rafael nodded, his head barely moving, and he blinked away the tears that threatened to form. “I’d like that. You’ll…you’ll have to be patient with me,” he warned.

“Lucky for you, I have all the patience of a detective,” you grinned, and his lips twitched upwards. “Let’s start with lunch. Today work for you?”

He nodded once more, then left your room to let you dress. This could work; you’d teach the counselor about love again, let the walls around his heart down, let him feel again. Rafael was, of course, afraid of being hurt again; he felt like his heart still wasn’t fully put back together. But after this many years, he alone obviously wasn’t enough for the job. Maybe he needed someone else to help. And he trusted you, more than he thought he could after everything he’s gone through throughout his life, especially since you had just met. Sure, he was terrified about all of this. But for you…for you, he was willing to try.

[s-creations]

In Sickness, In Health Chapter 5 - Broken Arm

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros             Rating: General Audience             Relationships/Pairings:  José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles     Additional Tags: getting sick, being cared for, mental health, injury, sore throat, common cold, chicken pox, broken bones, whooping cough, taking care of others.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author’s Note: This chapter is self titled with what's about to happen. But please keep in mind this contains talk of broken bones. If I need to put further tags/warnings on this story, please let me know!

“Dewey, I’m serious, get down!” Huey frantically called.

 “Sorry, can’t hear you. Too high up and doing amazing!” Dewey called back as he reached for the next level of branches. 

 “Dewey!” 

 “Let it go dude,” Louie commented as he scrolled through his phone. Leaning up against the same tree that Dewey was currently climbing. “You’re not getting him down from there. Just let nature take its course.”

 While Huey glared at Louie, Dewey was continuing his trek up the tall tree. Humming his theme song (version 236) while he reached for another branch. His plan for the day was to reach the top of the tallest tree in the backyard so he could see across the bay. To hopefully see across it, maybe even see the entire world and what it had to offer. Maybe he could even find some place interesting enough to visit! Some place close!

 Ah, he was so eager! He couldn’t wait to find out what the rest of the world looked like. Entire body shaking with eagerness, Dewey moved a bit too quickly...

 He lost his footing first. Webbed foot slipped and Dewey quickly reached out to try and grab something for support. Only for his hand to grab at air. The branch just a bit too far out of reach. 

 It was as if time stood still for a moment. Dewey got a brief thought of ‘Huh...maybe this wasn’t the best idea.’ before he began to properly fall. It was strangely exhilarating to hear the wind rushing around him. Sort of like flying. Except the opposite. Because he was, in fact, falling. So this was worse.

 Dewey hit the ground hard, Huey shrieking while Louie let out a cry of ‘Holy Cow!’ as they rushed over. The triplet dressed in blue sat up slowly. Looking around, dazed, but otherwise felt fine. 

 “What were you thinking! You could have been killed!” Huey huffed. Fear being replaced by anger as he glared down at his brother.

 “I was thinking how cool it would be to see the view from the top of that tree. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be for the moment. Oh well, I’ll try again tomorrow-”

 Dewey let out a yelp of pain when he tried to put weight on his arm. Pain shooting through it, the duckling swearing he was about to pass out from it. Taking a deep breath to keep himself awake, Dewey looked down at said arm. Which was clearly broken. Sticking out at a weird angle, but nothing else seemed ‘wrong’.

 “I broke my arm.”

 “WHAT?”

 “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s broken. Check it.” Dewey casually commented holding up the mentioned limb. Louie looked close to vomiting while Huey turned very pale. 

 “Oh… Okay. Um, Louie, can you get Uncle Donald?” The youngest triplet nodded and dashed back towards the house, happy to not see the arm. Huey, on his part, bent down to examine the damage as best he could. “Ah...so… I don’t think I’m supposed to touch it. But it looks so bad!”

 “Dude, it doesn’t hurt. Just breathe and leave it alone.” Truth be told, Dewey wasn’t really sure why he wasn’t panicking. Maybe it was because everyone else was already freaking out. But, it was probably the fact that, since it didn’t hurt, Dewey wasn’t too worried.

 “Dewey!” 

 Ah, someone else to worry about him.

 “Hi Uncle Donald!” Dewey beamed while being faced with a panicked duck. 

 Donald looked prepared to start pulling out his feathers in panic. “Okay, okay, Dewey, how are you feeling?”

 “Pretty good, all things considered.”

 “Okay, can you walk? We need to get you to the car.” 

 “Sure...I’ll just need help getting up.”

 Dewey was more than patient as the rest of the family rushed around him. Helping him into the car, getting the seatbelt on, making sure he was okay before they set off. A quick trip to the emergency room later and Dewey now had a sweet cast and a story to share with his other two uncles. 

 “This is so cool! Benny had one of his arms in a cast too and he got people to sign it. Do you think I could do that too?” Dewey looked up at Donald, freehand knocking on the hardened plaster. 

 “Of course. You can start carrying some sharpies when you’re at school. Just as long as you don't make everything messy and you don’t distract the class.” Donald commented, finally relaxed now that everything was taken care of.

 At first, Dewey was honestly thrilled to have his cast. It was like getting a fancy new piece of armor in a video game. Wanting to constantly show it off. Happily retelling his adventure with so much gusto to whomever would hear him. It was great. 

 Until it wasn’t.

 The first issue was how uncomfortable the cast was becoming. It was heavy and clunky. He couldn’t sleep because the cast was just dead weight. His arm started becoming both itchy and sweaty. Hot and bothersome with no solution as to how it was supposed to be fixed. 

 The second issue was that there was no one else to tell the story to. All his classmates knew. All his neighbors knew. And, even if his uncles would listen to him, Dewey knew they were becoming bored by the story. The once great armor was now dragging him down. 

 The last issue was that he couldn’t do anything. Uncle Donald made it clear that Dewey wasn’t going to do anything with the cast on. Not that the duckling paid that warning too much attention. Until he realized that the cast was preventing Dewey from, quite literally, doing anything. He couldn’t grab anything. Couldn’t put pressure on it in any way. Hold anything. It was basically a useless arm. 

 “At least you have some time to work on your homework.” Huey offered weakly. Which was only met with an unamused glare. 

 Dewey was becoming so bored. 

 He was currently situated on the sofa during one afternoon. Eyes barely open, barely focused, as he ‘watched’ the television. Dewey wasn’t fully taken in what he was looking at. He was also pretty sure there was a string of drool sliding out from the side of his mouth.

 “Well, don’t you look charming.”

 Dewey merely rolled his head to the side to look over towards Donald. “Hello…”

 “Hello to you too.” The older duck walked over, claiming an empty seat next to the blue dressed triplet. “I see you’ve moved your pity party from the bedroom to the living room.”

 “Not pity.” Dewey weakly argued back.

 “No? Then what are you doing?”

 “Bored?”

 “Ah, I see. Nothing like being sad for yourself.”

 “There’s nothing I can to with my stupid arm is it’s stupid cast.” Dewey huffed weakly. 

 “You’ve done nothing but watch t.v. since you’ve gotten that cast. Why don’t you try doing something new?”

 “Broken arm, can’t do anything.”

 Donald rolled his eyes. “You’re not in a full body cast, you can still move. And your dominant hand is still ‘free’. I don’t mean trying to climb something new. Why not find a new hobby? Read a book, go take a walk, something.”

 “All sounds boring.”

 Letting out a slow breath, Donald took a new approach. “Well, I have something you might be interested in.”

 “Doubt it.” Even with a heavy sigh of boredom, Dewey still followed his uncle.

 They entered a small side room at the back of the house. One filled with mainly boxes and other unneeded odds and ends. They passed the stacked boxes, going towards the sole window. Where an artist easel had been set up. Paints and other tools cluttering a small rolling cart that had been pushed against the wall. 

 “What is this?” Dewey asked as he looked over the pile of paint tubes. 

 “My get away, if you will. When I want a break from everything, I come here and just paint. Just...put on some music and paint.”

 “I’ve never seen you paint before…”

 “Well, I did just start,” Donald commented, taking a seat in front of the easel. “I was told it would help me relax.”

 “So, are you telling me to start painting?” Dewey asked. 

 “Sort of.” Reaching into a large bag that was propped up against the wall as well, Donald pulled out two items. A small sketchbook and a mechanical pencil. “You have an active imagination. Why don’t you try giving your words some pictures?”

 Dewey was skeptical at first. When starting, it was frustrating. Nothing was looking right and it was maddening to try and figure out what something was supposed to look like. Seeing it in his head to transfer it onto paper was difficult. 

 Tio José swooped in to save the day. When Dewey crumpled up another failure. The parrot was more than happy to give his expertise on how to start off a drawing. Getting the basic shapes, proportions, how to look at the whole and the parts of an object, how drawing from real life can help draw from the imagination. After that, there was no stopping him.

 Even with the cast on, it didn’t stop him. If anything Dewey started using it as a weight to keep the loose paper still. The rest of the recovery melted away. The blue cladded duckling happily returned to school with a fully healed arm and a number of handcrafted books to share. 

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Nine: Group Therapy

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A familiar drink brings back steamy memories for Shane (by popular demand), a ghost from the past picks a fight with the present, and the future hangs in the balance for our heroes.

Behind on the drama? It’s cool. I gotchu.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, violence, smut, alcohol consumption, more feels than you can shake a stick at.

Author’s Note: Guys. Listen guys. I know this chapter is a tad late…not that I have deadlines, I just know y’all want more sooner than I can always get it to you. It’s also, though, a bit longer than most of the previous installments have been. I hope you guys enjoy it. I think it’s my favorite chapter so far…I definitely cried the most writing it…you’ll see why…I’m not sorry. Initially, for some reason, it was hard to stay focused. (I blame my own emotions and feelings clouding my ambitions. Can’t let that happen anymore. Even though the same factors apply. I’ve gotta keep my head in it!) I’m actually pretty sad that there won’t be very much more of this story…they’ve been such good friends to me. I may just have to find a way to keep them going in follow-up drabbles. I don’t know. But I’m open to suggestions.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

It wasn’t top on Shane’s list of things she wanted to do tonight, but it had been ages since she’d gone out with her friends. It wasn’t totally because she’d been seeing Sy. But more recently, he had become the most prevalent reason she ended up bowing out. Because she had plans with him, or she needed to do things that she hadn’t gotten or wouldn’t get done because of plans with him unless she skipped out. They were bad excuses, but those of an introvert weren’t usually top-shelf, anyway.

It was Heather, the other secretary Marsha and her husband Alec, some of her fellow PTs Cory and Juan, and both OTs, Olivia and Miranda there at Cade’s that night. And Shane and Sy, of course. They were sitting at two tables close together, and after dinner, the guys got up to play darts while the ladies ordered a round of shots.

Heather both requested and paid for the tray of tiny glasses full of dark liquor. Shane knew the aroma all too well. Those were full of Jack Daniels. And she got tingly just thinking about the spirit, especially now.

“Let’s drink the first round to Shane.” She passed them around and held one up. “For landing captain sexy pants over there, and for being happier than I’ve seen her in actual years.” Heather clinked to the middled with the other girls as they completed the toast with cheery responses of “to Shane!” With intermittent whoops and cat-calls. She felt funny saluting herself, so she said nothing, silently dedicating her own drink to the guy she wasn’t expecting, wasn’t even asking for, but who’d been gifted to her, by God Himself, it seemed. Whoever or whatever or why ever, she was grateful for him.

She downed the full measure of whiskey, feeling the familiar pleasant burn down her throat and reminisced about the last time she’d had the drink.

~~~~~~

“No you’re cheating!” She slurred at Sy’s kitchen table.

“Not how I see it!” He smirked, that crooked grin mixing with the alcohol in her already impaired system making a heady and dangerous concoction.

“You’re delib’rately using my PT career against me!” They we’re playing “Never Have I Ever.” And he’d just used “never have I ever measured somebody up with a big protractor.”

“Hey, you’ve been trying to get me with ‘never have I army this, and never have I army that.’ And you just can’t and now you’re mad about it.”

“Ugh, I’m not mad, I just…don’t like cheating okay. Fair play. I’m a Hufflepuff, through and through!”

“As a Gryffindor, I resent your implication against my honor! And I say, drink twice.” They’d run out of mixer, and were down to the straight liquor. She was fine with it. She loved the sweet, oaky burn of Number 7 as she held small swallows on her tongue. Relished the burn of it on the tender skin of her lips like a rough kiss. She took two shots at his insistence.

“Never have I ever…fired a gun!” And they both drank because she had chosen a “never” that she “had ever” on purpose. She liked feeling this way with Sy. She liked being able to abandon her control and feel safe in so doing. Knowing that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her. Including herself.

His eyes began to glimmer in a way that she could always tell meant he was thinking something particularly salacious. Which typically meant something good was about to happen.

“Never have I ever…fooled around in a kitchen.” He waited a beat, then slowly stood, taking a long stride to stand directly in front of Shane, towering over her as she sat limp from drinking and more than ready for whatever he was planning. The kiss he gave her was almost instantly hungry, devouring, consuming. A wild fire that would spread throughout the forest of her. He pulled a stool out from under the table near her, barely having to break the contact and sat down in front of her on it. She leaned into him now, the boneless feeling now overtaken by her craving for him. She tugged at his casual blue tank top that stunned her because of the way it matched his eyes so well. She needed him closer. His hands rested on her thighs, mostly bare in the shorts she'd chosen for tonight, simply for their comfort, and not because they provided any sort of easy access. Not on a conscious level, anyway, she told herself.

His grip was tightening but the pain of the pressure didn't matter. His thumbs and fingers were rupturing tiny blood vessels and she registered the pain and the fact that she would have bruises in the shape of his claiming grip but all that really mattered was that he was there. Near. Present. And touching her.  

His hands moved, sliding up her legs, their trajectory shifting inward, their aim to open her up to him.

She was nothing short of willing.

He reached down to the seat between her legs and pulled her closer to him. Yes, she thought. He's too far away. Even though she could smell the whiskey on his breath even as she tasted it, still sweet on her own tongue. He laid a gentle hand on her left cheek, an almost chaste gesture, that snaked into something entirely different as it descended, brushing her neck, between her breasts, and over her abdomen, tumultuous from his touch and the drink.

He made it finally to her apex, easily brushing aside the fabric of her shorts, and teasing her there over her underwear with a soft, measured touch. She threw her arms around his neck, a wordless plea for him to go on. But her body was at odds with her mind.

“Sy, I wanna go slow.” She meant she didn’t want to end up in his bed tonight. Well, not that she didn't want to…

"Don't worry, sunshine. I'll take it real slow." he assured her, pretending to misunderstand her meaning as he teased her over her panties. She couldn't have spoken to correct him even if his lips hadn't taken an urgent hold on hers. His firm but frustrating touch was leaving her speechless and breathless.

Finally, he moved her undergarment aside to touch her, skin to skin. To pull a sweet, euphoric moan from her with just his fingers. He had been right about taking his time. It took him ages to find that space inside her that brought her to her pinnacle, but he made the wait enjoyable, all the same. She had a feeling he could have gone right to it, if he’d wanted to, but since she’d asked for it…

He grinned and chuckled into her mouth a bit as he toyed with her. He finally spoke,

“Hot damn, girl, you should have told me you needed me this bad.” He added a second finger to his game of search and destroy.

She could only grasp at his bare shoulders and the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to ground herself. He quickened, then slowed in sweet torture until her cries of his name became over loud for his neighborhood. The last build up, he added his thumb , brushing it against her aching center.

It hit her in waves of bliss as every muscle in her body responded to his localized, expert touch. Her vision blurred and for a second she could see the electricity flowing through air and matter and into her. Since when did THAT happen to her when she came?

“Sy!” She whimpered, a plea for him to stop but also to never stop.

“I know, darlin’, it’s alright. I’ve gotcha. Go on and let it out.” And she barely realized another climax had been building in her before she was falling headlong into it again, just as intense as the first one. He slowed, gently soothing her body after its small death, rubbing her neck and shoulder on the right side with his free hand.

He took his right hand away from her heat, brought it up to his mouth, and tasted her on his fingers. He poured them both another shot of whiskey, they threw them back, and once she had caught her breath from it all, she said,

“I don’t know the score, but I think you’ve won.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the present, she felt too sober to handle the bombardment of questions coming from her coworkers, no matter how pure their intentions.

“So are you guys a couple, like officially?”

“Have you met each other’s folks?”

“Do you think he’s the one?”

“What is he like in bed!?”

“I bet he’s an absolute fiend!”

“Nah, guys ya think that about are always so vanilla.”

“How big is he!?”

All of these questions seemed to come at one time, or at least before she could answer the previous ones, and it made her head spin.

“Listen, girls. I’m gonna go get myself a strong drink, and when I come back, I’ll answer one question at a time, so figure out the order in which you’ll be asking, and a punishment system for interrupting. Fair?” The hens all nodded their beaks in agreement as she stood to go to the bar. She reminded herself to add a disclaimer when she got back to the table about having veto power over questions she felt weren’t appropriate.

As she stood at the bar waiting for her turn with the bartender, she tensed as she heard an all too familiar voice say her name.

“Shane Benton.” He said in a charming tenor that she now found obnoxiously boyish.

“Elliott Thomas. What misdeed did I do in a past life to end up back in the same room with you?” He ignored her jibe.

“You look well.” He said, surveying her as if he intended to make a purchase.

“Okay.” She would not give credence to half assed, insincere compliments.

“Who’s the guy you’re with tonight?”

“That couldn’t be any less your business.”

“You’ll always be my business, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Funny, you didn’t seem to give a shit when we were together.”

“Come on, tell me where ya met this meat head.”

“Back off, Elliott.”

“Come on. He’s in a plaid shirt. He looks like he’s trying to cosplay the Brawny man. How quick does he pick you up?” He raised his eyebrows, driving home his attempt at double entendre.

The rage came suddenly, without warning, and manifested in a firm slap from her right hand to his left cheek. It landed solidly enough for him to have to stretch his jaw and feel it, as if making sure it was still there.

"Well, still got some spunk. Good to know. Not so fast--" he grabbed her wrist as she stepped away from the bar, but she was saved the trouble of getting out of it with her favorite self-defense maneuver, by the solid wall of red plaid and denim topped with his favorite black Chiefs hat. Sy had apparently noticed her altercation at the bar and elected to step in.

"What's goin' on here?" he asked, not brusquely, but so coolly that it was almost friendly. Elliott let go of Shane's wrist immediately and threw his hands up.

"No trouble here, man. Just a little friendly conversation between two former lovers." he said, oozing pure, stinking hubris.

"Oh, you're Elliott. Nice to meet you, man." Sy reached out to shake the man's hand. "I've actually been wanting to thank you."

Elliott looked confused. So was Shane. This guy had broken her heart. What was Sy intent on thanking him for?

"I wanted to thank you for fucking up so bad with this kind, beautiful woman, this graceful and forgiving saint, that she couldn't stand the sight of you any longer. Who knows. If you hadn't been such a dick, she may not have been free to be with me today." all of this, Sy said with Elliott's hand still in his. Shaking it. Apparently not too firmly. Until Sy leaned in very closely and whispered something to Elliott that made him go several shades of puce, and grimace, pulling his hand away, which Sy eventually relinquished.

After Elliott had tucked his tail and ran away, Shane found herself in a far less merry temperament than she'd come in with. She and Sy decided to leave. They said their goodbyes, Shane promising more answers as soon as she could. And they left, her arm around his waist, and his around her shoulder.

About halfway to Sy's truck, Shane heard a solid ping near her ear and the shattering of glass on the pavement nearby, followed by a low growl from deep in Sy's chest. They halted in their stride, Shane turning quickly around, Sy turning more slowly and intentionally in the direction of his would be attacker.

Elliot stood beside the brick exterior of the bar with three other men, none of them within 50 pounds of Sy, and hardly a match for him…individually…but together, she was concerned. She would absolutely try to help fight these guys, but she couldn't take out more than one with the potential weapons she had on her person that she could inventory off hand. Plus, if she had to fight Elliott…he'd get into her head…she knew it. Thank God she didn't know the other guys. She'd hope to get one of them.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Sy said, back to his polite self, not worried about potentially getting into a street fight in which they were outnumbered two to one.

"Just thought you'd like to tell my buddies here what you said to me in there. I mean, I gave them the gist, but I think they'd like to hear it from you." Elliott puffed.

"Ah, somebody can't keep a secret." Sy sigh scolded him, wagging his finger at him as if he was a misbehaved child. "I was gonna let it all go as long as you left us alone. Did you mention that to them before you got them into a whole mess o' trouble?"

"Tell them, you fuckin' coward."

"Big talk from a guy who had to make it four to one before he confronted me." Sy accused.

"Four to two." Shane squared her shoulders, standing next to Sy, and attempting to make herself look more formidable, which was next to impossible given the fact that the man beside her was a massive army captain and she was just…herself. But she'd be damned if she stood by and let Sy take all of this on when it was all because of her. Plus, she didn't want him to reinjure himself.

"How about you jump in if I need ya, sunshine." He whispered to her. She didn't move or reply. "But ya know, since ya asked so nicely, I will oblige. I told this piss-ant friend of yours after he physically accosted this lovely lady here, in no uncertain terms that if he EVER touched MY GIRLFRIEND again, he'd be begging for death for hours before I had mercy on him and put him out of his misery and that his body would never be found." He eyed each of the men before him, his fiery gaze a physical force upon them, letting his promise to Elliott sink in. "Now if y'all wanna defend a man who would put hands on a woman, and then proceed to physically assault a United States Army veteran like myself, I can come up with similar guarantees for all of ya. And carry them out here tonight. But y'all look like ya've got a lot o' shit ya still wanna get done in this life with limbs and dicks intact. So I would encourage all of you fine gentlemen to walk away from this situation."

Two of the men, surrendered, claiming Elliott hadn't mentioned that he'd hurt Shane or that Sy was a vet. One of the men asked to shake his hand and thanked him for his service. The smallest member of Elliott's group, however, remained with him. Shane thought she recognized him after getting a better look. He'd been at a few events she'd been to with Elliott's friend group. She thought his name was Kyle. Clearly he was one of Elliott's oldest and most loyal friends. He still looked skeptical. Unsure that the two of them alone could take Sy. Shane thought he was right to be worried.

"Come on, Kyle!" Elliott summoned his friend to the fight.

"I dunno, man. He's a soldier and I mean…look at him. Look at us!"

"You pussy." Elliott walked up to Sy.

"You don't want to do this, friend." Sy warned.

"I'm not your friend, asshole. You stole my girlfriend." he swung wildly at the larger man, but missed. He was unsteady, Shane could see now, from excessive drink. She hadn't noticed inside.

Sy remained still for one punch that landed weakly on his jaw, barely displacing it. "Are you done, there, Mayweather? We even? Now that you got to hit me?"

"We are not done. Not until one of us is on the ground." Elliott insisted.

"Fair enough." Sy socked him with a jab straight to the nose, knocking him dizzily to the hard asphalt of the parking lot. Kyle came up to him to drag Elliott to a nearby car as his head lolled forward like a rag doll.

"I'll get him to the ER. Explain to them what happened. You guys get home safe. And thanks for not killing him. Or me." Kyle said as he opened his passenger door. Sy helped heave Elliott's comatose form into the seat and shook Kyle's hand.

Shane's eyes were still wide at the entire chain of events. Her adrenaline supercharged from her readiness to fight alongside her man. Which, she was both relieved and disappointed that she didn't have to do. But there was another thing on her mind. She had been mentally replaying what Sy had said to Elliott played over and over for more reasons than his chivalrous and heroic conduct.

When they were in the car and headed to her house, Shane asked him about it.

"So…you called me your girlfriend tonight." she looked at him.

"Shit, Shane, I'm sorry. I've been wanting to ask ya for days to make things official, and I just haven't found the right time. I was gonna ask you over drinks tonight in front of all your friends, but then that asshole fucked it all up. I even have a gift for you." he fished around in his pocket for a small, flat box, and handed it to her. She flipped up the spring loaded lid of the black velvet box, and inside, on a tiny pillow of black satin was a silver necklace with a silver charm. An "S" in an elaborate script with a small emerald set in the lower hook of the letter. "And if you don't want to make it official, you can still keep the necklace, because the 'S' can be for 'Shane,' and the stone can just be an emerald, and ya don't have to think about it like it's my birthstone, and I--"

"Sy, hush. Of course I want to be your girlfriend, officially. I've been dying to say it myself. And I love the necklace. It's perfect."

"Really? You mean it? All of it?" she'd never seen him so desperate. She had no idea why he thought she might not be serious. But she did have an idea of how to prove it.

"Stay with me tonight, Sy."

"It's still early yet, babe. I'll have plenty of time--"

"No, I mean, I want you. Tonight." How could she be more clear than that?

"Oh, you mean…but I thought you wanted to wait until my treatments were over?" He asked, as if he didn't want to get his hopes up just yet.

"When you were on the phone with my boss that day, you said something that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. Something that's gnawed at my will and resolve ever since. You said that life was too short, and you didn't want to wait to be happy when you could be happy now." she was verging on tears. "Well, I'm tired of waiting too, Sy. You make me happier than I've ever been, and I don't see the point in ignoring what we really want anymore. Because the fact is, Sy…the fact has been for a while now," she laughed at her own foolishness for stifling and ignoring it all this time, "I love you. And I think I have from the moment you first called me ma'am." She was fully crying now, and the tears had broken through down his cheeks, as well.

He pulled into her driveway and jumped out of his truck, still running, headlights blazing into her yard. He jogged around the front, but Shane, being uninjured had caught up to him without the benefit of a head start. He caught her up in his arms as if she'd stay there forever. They sobbed tears of joy and relief as they kissed each other with abandon, silhouettes against the footlights and exhaust courtesy of the Ford Motor Company, the PowerStroke engine roaring a soundtrack for this moment as it idled.

"I love you, Shane. From the moment you found me dreading therapy all alone that first day and cheered me up instantly. I knew." he brush the tears and hairs away from her face and held it, scrutinizing her features in the high-beams as if he intended to draw her from memory.

"I didn't know you were dreading it." she laughed, lightening the mood a bit.

"I was. A lot. Never had a lot of luck, especially recently, with PT. Until you."

She smiled, and looked at the truck, a third party to their romantic moment now more obvious to her.

"You're wasting gas."

"Hang the gas. I'm wasting time with you. You wanna go inside?" he asked. She nodded.

"You go get your purse. I'll be right around."

Sy shut off the truck and took his keys out, locking the vehicle from the fob after his arm was back around Shane and they were walking up her front porch steps.

Up Next: Chapter 10- Myofascial Release

[fanficaficionado]

okay, i know i said i would be starting with things i knew and loved. hell, i even had a fic from the fandom im currently ass-deep in all lined up!! but then i procrastinated, and i lost motivation, got distracted by my scheduled post-holiday shutdown, and something else finally kicked my ass into gear. so this blog's first true introduction to the world will not, in fact, be a post where i worship the very ground my favorite fic writers walk upon.

no, today we are talking about Ascent into Madness by cesium_sheep

((spoilers, obviously))

Now im going to preface this by saying that this criticism is subjective and based in my opinion. I did genuinely enjoy this story, and i did not at any point feel the urge to launch myself into the sun with nothing but the pure force of my rage, causing the sun to explode and consume planet earth in a scorching hell-blast and decimating all life on our tiny little space rock, which even some of my favorites are guilty of because in some stories characters just love to waffle about ((especially in my preferred reading material which puts romance at a very significant focus)). This story just isn't for me.

I'm going to explain why, and believe me when i say i am being as gentle as i physically can with this story because it is not objectively offensive to my very being, It's a good read and setting aside the problems i have with it i enjoyed it.

I keep repeating that i don't hate this story because i do not want to be accused of baseless hate, not because of reputation or anything but because being accused of something i know i didn't do sets off the same sensation that i get from rubbing my fingernails on egg cartons, the one of the back of my brain being assaulted by the mayonnaise-coated fingers of satan himself. Damn i should really get to the criticism before this just becomes an in depth description of my very soul's adverse reaction to the cream in queen anne chocolate cherries.

anyways.

The thing about this story is that, to me, it feels.. unfinished. Or at the very least like it wandered off its intended course. It leaves me with a feeling of mild dissatisfaction and the taste of confusion in my mouth. I think this problem is best summarized by the fact that, in the first chapter, it is set up that rose is in some sort of hospital, and that dave thinks she is in the grasp of some delusion, and the second chapter sets up the retroactive explanation for how it got to this point. See, what i expected was to be caught up to that point in the story, reach that point in time again, and then progress from there.

But that first chapter?? With the hospital, the delusions, the brick through the window with the radio attached?? Never brought up again, not even once. It is completely discarded and never even thought about. The story even stops trying to set up that scene after a certain point.

To put it in homestuck terms, because i'm a loser, a time player, and come on we're talking about a homestuck fic here you know i have to do this, it feels like we started a loop and then branched off the alpha timeline so completely we aren't even a part of the metaphorical timeline-tree anymore. It nags at my brain man, it's one of the main things that fuelled my motivation in writing this. It feels lost and wandering and it confuses me in a bone deep sorta way.

The second thing that gets to me is the complete lack of information presented about what, exactly, the fuck is going on. I have no idea how we got from point A to point B, not just because it completely disconnects from point A not even halfway through, but also because there's a lot of plot threads thrown in haphazardly and then never extended upon. There's a mention of jake and john's respective guardians knowing something about the story's big bad and all the mystical bullshit that follows along behind him, but that is never followed up on even a little. No one questions why they know, despite this information being so rare that literally only two families and a single group of aliens seem to have access to it. It just is a thing and then whoops, hand musta slipped because that bad boy is out the window and is facing the combined nonexistent mercy of gravity and this ten story drop.

The main plot has this same problem, in feeling like you get just enough info to keep it going forward. There's a sword in rose's umbrella basket or whatever the hell it's called, and it's implied a future dave put it there for his past self, but do we get confirmation that it was him?? Do we see that loop completed?? No, it is just used as a driving force for rose to try and push the fact that dave's got Timey powers. It feels like i'm being pulled by the hand through this story because it only gives just barely enough information to keep this crazy train rolling and then goes so far as to leave fucking time loops hanging there incomplete which okay i might be getting a little peeved about that but can you blame me?? Can you really blame me at all??

Maybe i am judging the plot too harshly, after all i was forewarned not to read for the plot in the summary because it's pretty slow and wandering. So let's get into something else then, yes?? Let's hop to the relationships.

The relationships, too, fall prey to this complete lack of any meaningful focus on any piece of information ever. I'd swear the writer was allergic if that didn't seem too harsh a description. It's a whole lot of telling without any showing, a cardinal sin in writing. We get a conversation with kanaya that doesn't suffer the disconnect from all things that the rest of the story seems haunted by. It's actually really a neat little conversation and i find it kind of wholesome how kanaya talks about rose and i personally think this interaction to be entirely too short. Then kanaya mentions karkat and apparently there's some of davekat's standard romantic tension happening off-screen because dave starts to get flustered and ponders what that means. And once again a plot thread is thrown to the winds because we never get another whiff of it.

Actually on the topic of davekat, dave just naturally gravitates to karkat and then they're stuck together like glue, so stuck in fact that dave dies for karkat because dave apparently forgets the golden rule of "If you have time to jump in front of someone then you have time to push them out of the way" and then ignores the added bit i spitefully wrote on the ancient stone tablet of Things That Make Sense in neon orange sharpie that says "Especially if you have time to have a discussion about your choices with an ambiguously-dead girl. Pull your thumb out of your ass, dave, nobody has to die here, magic option number three was not the one you picked."

Of course, this is a fanfiction, these are characters i already know. I know how these characters would interact, i know how their relationship develops in-canon and i know that given the chance these fuckers become goddamn inseparable. But that doesn't excuse the fact that it is all tell and no show, we dont see how it gets from "You're one of the only familiar faces in a group of strangers and i am not about to start interacting with new people unless i have to" to "Here let me die heroically for you and then be revived for no explainable reason besides Because The Wizard Of God Says So." I have no reason to be invested in this or even give a half-ounce shit despite it literally becoming something that the climax hinges on. And then rose and kanaya are just inexplicably,, together?? Right at the end?? And while i am happy that the lesbians get to be in love everything is off screen and nothing is ever explained, not even like one time, and god it's just so confusing. I am so confused.

But again, maybe i'm being unfair, once again the very tags of this fic are telling me that the relationships are not the focus and only really tagged so people can filter it out. I suppose i should judge the characters, then.

From what i remember there are sixteen characters, excluding ((who i believe to be, as it is once again not explained or explicitly stated to be)) caliborn at the end, with speaking roles. Five of those characters retain any narrative relevance for more than a nanosecond. A good chunk of the trolls arent even mentioned by name, with eridan and i think sollux being mentioned, and who i think to be sollux speaks when rose and dave are first brought to the trolls' apartment but again, the fog of uncertainty clouds all things and i don't have my handy dandy leafblower on me to airblast that shit out of my way. Of the five characters with any focus on them, two are relegated to the role of supporting character, with karkat joining that number more often than not. That leaves us with dave and rose, who are ultimately as a whole unaffected by their experiences. They do not learn anything, they do not grow or change. Sure rose freaks out about her perception of reality, but that falls flat because it's more tell and no show again. Dave freaks out, as he rightfully should in this situation, but there is no arc. There is no significant change in anything but moving toward the boss fight with the big baddie.

There aren't any particularly interesting interactions between these characters, either, i cannot recall one time in which i laughed, or felt much of anything really. They all fall into a state of Existing while also feeling like they aren't doing a whole lot. It's more noticeable in retrospect but these characters just Do Not feel alive, they seem incredibly flat at times and it's hard to notice while you're reading but looking back it stands out so painfully and it makes me very sad.

If i'm not supposed to read for the plot, and i'm not supposed to read for the relationships, and i can't read for the characters, then what is this story meant to be read for?? The only other thing i can think of is the mystery and sorry pal, but that's a plot, which we have already established doesn't really have a whole lot going for it because while your mystery sure is there it is currently stinking up that rug you shoved half the answers under because those mysteries aren't the ones you want to focus on.

Is it simply meant to pass the time?? Is there no deeper purpose besides keeping yourself entertained as the hours tick by?? Because if so, it at least accomplished that. Despite its faults, it kept my attention for the entire fifty one chapters, and it passed my time.

There are other nitpicks i have, but that's more based around the writing style on a more technical level. The chapters are too short for my personal taste, and there are far too many cliffhangers, these things i will not condemn as the writer gave a good reason for the latter and obviously no writer is obligated to churn out 2,500 words per chapter unless they damn well want to.

Ultimately, this story is neither good nor bad. It is straightforward in that it burns any other plot threads besides the main one on the sacrificial alter of The Writer Does What The Writer Wants, it's a bit too ambiguous and under-explained for my tastes, but there is nothing egregiously offensive in it. It is a story that exists. I wouldn't read it again, but i wouldn't not read it again, and i don't even come close to regretting the time i spent reading it ((outside of the fact that it is currently almost nine am and i haven't slept but that one is my own fault)).

I scrolled passed this story in its beginnings, assuming it would not be particularly mindblowing, and now that i've read it i know that i was entirely correct. Read it if you want, or don't, just don't go in expecting something life changing. I suggest picking out a spot on your schedule where you have nothing to do and will no doubt be bored out of your mind. I sincerely doubt you'll regret it.

[searchingwardrobes]

Here’s another story from the universe of my original novel, What Hindered Love. This is Micah’s version of the story when Chloe showed up at church but ran before he could talk to her (chapter two). Since this is so early in the book, it doesn’t really give much away, so if you were on the fence about getting my book, you could give this a read to see if it piques your interest! If it does, you can get What Hindered Love here .

Words: About 2,500

Rating: T

Tagging: @snowbellewells​​​​ @teamhook​​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​​ @superchocovian​​​​ @thislassishooked​​​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​​​ @kday426​​​​ @onceuponaprincessworld​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​ @nikkiemms​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​​ @bethacaciakay​​​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​​ @welllpthisishappening​​​​ @wellhellotragic​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​ @captainswanapproved​

Summary: Micah Barrett has never given up on the tiny spark of hope in his soul where Chloe Wren is concerned, even if everyone thinks he's crazy. And then he sees her again after five years . . .

Five years ago, Chloe Wren had declared that she never wanted to see Micah Barrett again. Then she had proceeded to make good on that promise. His family and close friends thought surely Chloe’s declaration would be impossible to accomplish. How could she and Micah parent a child together and never see one another? But Micah had known Chloe better than that. When she set her mind to something, there was no changing it. Especially when it came to protecting her heart behind those walls of hers.

But that didn’t mean that Micah didn’t look twice every time he saw a flash of blonde hair. It didn’t mean that he didn’t attempt contact whenever he received those rare text messages about their son. After a while, he started to wonder if he was merely seeing things when those flashes of gold flitted in the corner of his vision. There was hope, and then there was desperate insanity.

So when he saw a familiar figure with long blonde hair darting for the door during the worship set at Community Fellowship, he thought at first he must surely be imagining things. The last place Chloe Wren would ever be was at the church his father pastored. Even so, he almost lost his place in the music staring at the door she had just slipped out of. He literally almost dropped his guitar when his sister-in-law Kate followed the figure. Could it really be? Could Kate have convinced her cousin to come to church?

But wait . . . if Chloe really was here, so was Luke. Micah’s eyes darted down to the front of the sanctuary. Sure enough, there was the familiar dark head of his five year old son, returning the flag he had been waving to its bin. As if Luke could sense his father’s gaze, he looked up and grinned at Micah, then waved. Without even waiting for a response, the five year old took off to join the other children who were lining up for Sunday school class.

Micah blinked in amazement, startled out of his shock by Hannah’s voice in his in-ears. They were transitioning to another song. He pulled his concentration to his music stand to be sure he had the right chords. Once he was strumming the familiar sequence, his eyes drifted back to the sanctuary doors. Suddenly, his heart pounded in his chest. There she was. Chloe. Just as beautiful as ever. She was here! He could scarcely believe it!

The rest of the worship set passed in a blur, and when Micah took his seat on the front row beside his mother, he kept turning around and craning his neck to find Chloe, but she was too far back to pick out. His mother gave him several odd looks and finally leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“I’m guessing you saw Chloe.”

His eyes grew wide as he took in his mother’s expression, which didn’t look particularly pleasant, actually. Of course his mother knew Chloe was here, she would have seen Luke too. Elizabeth Barrett patted Micah’s knee in a comforting gesture, but her eyes and the firm set of her jaw seemed to hold a reprimand.

Well, he didn’t care what his mother thought. If Chloe was at church, the hope that he still held – barely flickering, but still there – wasn’t in vain.

~~~~~~❤❤~~~~~~~

Micah bolted for the back of the sanctuary as soon as his father’s closing prayer ended, even though half the congregation tried to stop him to chat. Being the son of the pastor meant everyone felt as if they knew him, everyone assumed he was their friend, so after every service he and Josiah felt pressure to greet and chat with pretty much everyone. Today, Micah didn’t really care if he hurt someone’s feelings, he was a man on a mission.

He came to a stop at the sanctuary doors, turning in a circle, scanning the crowd.

“She slipped out already.”

Micah turned towards his brother who held his two year old daughter Haley in his arms. Josiah shifted Haley, avoiding Micah’s gaze.

“You knew she was coming today?” Micah asked in an accusatory tone.

“We weren’t sure . . . “ Josiah trailed off as Micah gave him a withering glare, “Micah!” he called out after him as his brother bolted out the door.

He only got as far as the lobby when he collided with Kate.

“Oh my God!” he gasped, dropping his hand to hover over his sister-in-law’s burgeoning stomach.

Kate laughed merrily, “I’m fine, Micah! Bumping into a pregnant woman isn’t an unforgivable sin.” She regarded him intently as she straightened her back, “And she’s gone anyway.”

Kate looked at him sympathetically as he visibly deflated.

“She didn’t want to see anyone,” Kate further clarified.

“Me you mean,” Micah corrected, “she didn’t want to see me.”

“You know,” Josiah said, coming up behind his brother, “for two people who have a child together, you have horrible communication.”

“Josiah,” Kate scolded. Then she turned to Micah and laid a comforting hand gently on his arm, “She came, Micah. That’s a start.”

That tiny flicker of hope inside of him sparked upward.

~~~~~~~❤❤~~~~~~~~

“Micah, would you please stop wearing a rut in my carpet.”

Micah sighed and turned towards his mother who was spooning batter onto a cookie sheet. He wandered from the living room and into the kitchen, swiping his finger into the bowl of batter, being sure to snag as many chocolate chips as possible.

“Get your finger out of the bowl!” his mother reprimanded, moving to swat his hand. Before she could, he popped his finger into his mouth and grinned as the sweetness melted onto his tongue. His mother’s smile contradicted her scolding.

“Why are you making cookies, anyway?”

Elizabeth shrugged, “I just felt like making cookies. And what better excuse than my grandson coming over?”

“You spoil him.”

“Aren’t I supposed to?”

Micah thought about that as his mother slid the cookie sheet into the oven. His mom had to be more than a grandmother to Luke in the early years. Just one more reason Micah was thankful to God that he had conquered his addiction. Now his mother got to just be a grandma.

Micah still had so much nervous energy. Where were Chloe and Luke? He went to the window and peeped through the blinds.

“You don’t want her to think you’re a stalker,” his mother said behind him.

Micah turned and regarded his mother’s rigid stance. “You don’t agree with this at all, do you?”

Elizabeth sighed as she came closer. “She said she never wanted to see you again, son. Maybe it’s time you move on. There are so many other wonderful young women –“

Micah lifted his hand to cut her off. Lately, his mother had been asking when was he going to date again, when was he going to settle down, when was he going to find a mother for Luke. Couldn’t she see? Didn’t she understand?

“There’s no one else for me but Chloe, mom. There never will be. If there’s even the tiniest hope that we can have a relationship again, I have to take it.”

Elizabeth dropped her eyes for a moment, and when she lifted them again, they were filled with sadness. She reached up and cupped her son’s cheek. “I just don’t want to see you get your heart broken again.”

“Too late for that, Mom. My heart has pretty much stayed broken for the past five years.” He heard a car pull up outside, and his eyes lit up at the same time his heart flipped over in his chest. “They’re here!”

Micah headed for the door and stepped outside just in time to see his son running full tilt around the house and down the front walk. His grin widened as he crouched with open arms to receive his little boy’s hug. He heard footsteps and looked up to see Chloe standing there, her expression looking startled. He would have to proceed with caution. She looked like a skittish deer ready to bolt.

Micah stood, ruffled Luke’s hair, and looked over his shoulder at Chloe, a nervous smile on his face and his hands stuffed in his pockets. Elizabeth’s voice called out from inside the house about fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. Luke whooped with excitement and raced inside.

Micah’s gaze took Chloe in like a man who had seen water again after years in a dry desert. Her golden hair was gathered in a messy bun which couldn’t seem to contain the wavy tresses. Tendrils curled fetchingly around her face which glowed with minimal makeup. Even the nursing scrubs she wore couldn’t hide the inviting curves of her figure. In short, she took his breath away. Then again, that was nothing new. Micah smiled at her, trying to convey casual confidence even though his stomach was flipping over, just like the first day they met. He suddenly realized he was standing there, staring like an idiot. So he spoke, and he inwardly winced at his awkward choice of words.

“After you were at church Sunday, I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind seeing me,” his smile faltered as he took in Chloe’s cold glare. “Judging by your reaction, I was wrong.”

Chloe crossed her arms and tilted her chin haughtily. “You’ve had five years of opportunities to see me, Micah.”

Micah’s defenses went up, and anger flared within him. Chloe had a way of stoking every fire in his soul. “That last time in court, you made it pretty clear that you never wanted to see me again.”

“And you made things pretty clear yourself. Or have you forgotten what you said to me that day?” Chloe’s chin quivered as she spoke.

Micah looked at her intensely for a moment, tenderness in his gaze. “I hurt you terribly, Chloe. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret that. Won’t you ever forgive me?”

An eternity seemed to pass before Chloe sighed. “Of course I forgive you, Micah. You’re Luke’s father.”

It wasn’t what he wanted, but for now, it would have to be enough. Micah stepped closer, unable to resist the temptation to be closer to her. His heart thrilled when she didn’t step back. Chloe tipped her face up, and he felt himself drawn in to the sparkle of her amber eyes. He admired the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her adorable nose, and resisted the urge to thumb that irresistible dimple in her chin.

He swallowed hard. He wanted to grab her and kiss her. Instead, he asked her sincerely, “I’ve changed so much since then, Chloe. Can’t we be friends?”

He felt slightly wounded when Chloe’s mouth twitched in a suppressed laugh at his suggestion. “I remember you asking me that years ago. Didn’t really work for us, did it?”

He noted the breathless nature of her voice, the slightly flirtatious delivery of her words. A smile tugged at the corner of Micah’s mouth and his eyes darted to her lips.

She took a step back, and Micah hated the sudden distance between them. “I don’t think we can be friends, Micah.”

As she turned to go, he remembered a heated, passionate kiss followed by similar words. Lord, he prayed inwardly, I’m in this for the long haul, but she just might kill me in the meantime.

“Will you come back to church?” he called after her.

Chloe gave a brief glance back. “I doubt it.”

Micah quirked an eyebrow this time when he smiled. “I know what that means, Wren.” Her back stiffened at his use of the nickname, so he changed tactics. “Your friends miss you.”

Chloe ignored his statement, turning her back again and walking quickly away. He waited until he thought she was out of ear shot before adding:

“I miss you, Wren.”

Feeling slightly dejected, Micah turned to head back inside. After closing the door behind him, he saw Luke standing there, eyes wide, a chocolate chip cookie clutched in his little hand. When he looked up into Micah’s eyes, Luke’s own flashed with indignation. His eyes may have been the same color as Micah’s, but the irate look in them right now was all Chloe.

“Mommy is mean not to be your friend.”

Micah ran a hand wearily down his face. How did he handle this? He knelt before his son and ran a hand over his unruly hair.

“Mommy’s not mean,” he said carefully, “she’s hurting. We just have to be patient with her, okay?”

Luke’s face fell, but he nodded. Micah needed to get his son’s mind off his mother, so he grinned and tickled the boy.

“I see you got me a cookie,” he teased.

Luke’s eyes widened, “This is my cookie, Daddy!”

Micah made a half-hearted swipe for the cookie, and Luke squealed as he darted away. It only took Micah two strides to overtake him, and he swept Luke into his arms, biting the cookie in half as he did so.

“Daddy!” Luke giggled, “Not fair!”

“Not to worry, my boy,” Micah declared as he ran into the kitchen, carrying Luke like Superman, “there’s more where that came from.”

He lowered Luke over the cookie sheet, and the five year old snatched two handfuls. Micah made an over-the-top evil laugh as his mother half-heartedly scolded that they would ruin their dinner.

Elizabeth Barrett shook her head as she watched her son and grandson fall into a heap onto the couch. She refrained from reprimanding them for all the crumbs they were scattering everywhere. Her son only laughed when his little boy was around. She wasn’t about to miss out on that sound.

Elizabeth glanced towards the front door. She had overheard the conversation between the two former lovers, and it only confirmed that what her son had said was true. Micah would never get over Chloe Wren. She just prayed his hopes weren’t unfounded.

She longed to hear her son’s laughter more often.

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 2.2

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Two – Aboard This Tiny Ship – Part 2 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1

Author: Gumnut

14 - 18 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 2576

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D I hope you enjoy it.

This section is a touch shorter than the last one, but the next section will be much bigger.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 Scott was ready to chew an arm off just to entertain himself by the time Gordon announced they were approaching L’Esperance Rock just after lunch. He’d seen it enough from the air to know it meant they were around halfway home. The thought did give him some relief and he stood at the bow of the boat watching the islet come into view.

A grunt behind him had him turning to find Virgil making his way forward, coffee in one hand, abdomen in the other. He darted in to help his brother up the steps.

“I’m okay.”

“I know you are. Just being useful.”

That earned him a stare and an arched eyebrow. “You’re bored shitless, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m okay.”

Virgil snorted. “I had a bet with John you’d last until tonight at least. You’ve shafted me fifty bucks, big brother.”

Scott grunted. “Well, that explains why he was so happy to steal my phone.”

“He stole your phone?” Brown eyes frowned up at him.

“Oh, yes. On Grandma’s orders apparently.”

“That’s cheating.”

“Heh, that’s between the two of you. I’m only the subject of the bet, not the umpire.”

“Null and void. He’s not getting a cent.”

Scott grinned as he held his brother’s elbow, surprised he hadn’t been shook off.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Virgil’s voice was wistful as they approached the railing. “Sometimes I think we get too busy or just take it all for granted. We do live in a stunning corner of the planet.”

“Dad always thought so. I wouldn’t have called him much of an environmentalist, but he knew what was important.”

“Hmm, I think you underestimate him. You were off the Island when Alan brought two rats home as pets.”

“He did what?!”

Another arched eyebrow. “Yes, he did, early on. Snuck them in. Dad went ballistic when he found out. The words he used had Grandma blushing. Let’s just say that Beau and Belle were deported rather abruptly and Alan now has an unofficial degree in environmental management.”

“Hmph, serves him right.”

Virgil smiled at him. “Sounds like you might be a bit of an environmentalist yourself.”

A tolerant glare at his brother. “I do what is necessary.”

Scott was surprised when Virgil’s response to that statement was a sigh. His brother’s expression was almost sad.

“What?”

“You need to relax.”

“I am relaxing.”

“No, you’re not. You’re wired tighter than Two’s primary generator. You need to find a way to wind down. We’re on vacation.”

“We’re on mandatory lockdown.”

“Grandma is right. We need a break. Preferably before we break something we can’t repair.”

“It’s not just about us!”

“Yes, it is! You need to let go! Focus on you for a change.”

“Dad-“

“Is not here! You have the right to a life, Scott. You have the right to look after yourself, to have a little fun, for god’s sake. When was the last time you read a fiction book? Flew a kite? Sat in front of the projector and binge watched an old television show?”

“There are more important things-“

“Importance is relative. It was you who blew my head off a matter of days ago about priorities, was it not? Our business forces us to prioritise according to lives at risk, I get it. I know it. I live it beside you. But you are my big brother, you are the leader of this team, your health affects our effectiveness. To put it harshly, some may die today, so many more can be saved in the future.” Virgil visibly swallowed. “I know International Rescue is important, but please, take the time, Scott. If you have to, do it for IR, do it for us or me or whatever gets you going, but most of all please do it for yourself.” Quietly. “I can’t lose you.”

What the hell? “You’re not going to lose me.”

“If you don’t look after yourself, we will!” He didn’t think it was physically possible for his brother to frown harder.

“If you don’t look after yourself, you’re going to blow your stitches.”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you!”

“So, what are you thinking? Yell at me until I crack? I’m not finding this relaxing at all, Virg.”

“Well, it seems I need volume for you to actually hear me, because you certainly don’t listen otherwise.”

He couldn’t think of an immediate retort to that and to be honest he was worried Virgil was going hurt himself if he wasn’t careful, he appeared so uncharacteristically angry. “You’re that worried?”

“Of course, I’m fucking worried!”

Whoops, wrong thing to say.

“Virgil! Calm down. You’re the one who needs to relax.” He reached out and placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Take a breath.”

To his surprise, Virgil was actually trembling a little. He was that passionate about this? He hadn’t been doing that badly, had he?

His brother did as requested and took a deep breath. “You are so hard to look after sometimes.” It was breathy and full of exhaled tension.

“You don’t have to look after me, Virg.”

“Somebody has to.” He looked up and brown eyes caught his. “Because you don’t.”

Ah, shit. A sigh and Scott gently drew his brother into a hug. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’ll try to do better.”

His brother didn’t answer, but he did lean in a little, one big hand reaching around Scott’s back and returning the embrace. “Please try.”

“Okay.”

Virgil pulled away slowly, not looking up at his brother, but focussing on the coffee he held in his other hand. He brought it to his lips and turned away slightly.

Scott stared at the back of his brother’s head and frowned.

The boat slowed as they approached the Rock. As jagged as its distant cousin, the Rock was like a miniature version of their home, the very top of a huge undersea volcano.

“Are we stopping here?”

Virgil’s question echoed his own thoughts. He thumbed his comms. “Gordon, are we stopping here?”

“Only for a moment. Just grabbing a sensor snapshot for Mel.”

Melissa Fisher, their closest neighbour. Blonde and sharp, she would remind him of Penny if it wasn’t for her obsession with all things Kermadec. That and the twigs in her hair. Even Dad had been a little wary of stepping on anything living when visiting Raoul Island. And visit they had. They needed to keep up relations and the woman was a mine of information when it came to ecological stabilisation and rehabilitation. Tracy Island had its issues when his father bought it and ever aware of the ecological importance of the area, once Brains had built the necessary infrastructure, his father had attempted to re-stabilise the ecosystem.

Melissa had been very helpful.

Gordon had taken to her immediately, jabbering in biology terms. For a bit there, Scott had wondered if the two of them might get involved with a different kind of biology, she was a little older than Gordon, only a year younger than Scott, but that might just float his brother’s boat. But apparently, they were too distracted by what they were discussing to notice each other.

Scott hadn’t seen her in years.

The boat came to a complete stop not far from the Rock and a moment later, Gordon appeared on the starboard side and threw out his sensor buoy.

Virgil was staring at him.

Scott blinked. “What is it?”

His brother didn’t answer immediately, those dark eyes assessing him a moment longer before sipping his coffee. But then a decision flickered across his expression and his hand reached out and gently took Scott’s arm. “Come with me.”

His brother turned slowly and led him off the bow. He negotiated the stairs and walked Scott back into the living area where Gordon was once again staring at holographic fish.

“Sit down and wait a moment.” His brother disappeared off into the depths of the living quarters.”

“Yes!”

Gordon’s jubilant yell made Scott jump. What?

His little brother was staring at a huge fish. A huge and weird looking fish. “What is that?”

“That, my wonderful big brother, is a sunfish or Mola mola, to be more specific.”

“And that is?”

Gordon glanced at him and frowned. “Heaviest bony fish on the planet. Came close to extinction twenty years ago. Saved by the World Council and its endangered species bill in 2039.” He turned back to the holographic display. “Though this one appears to have had some challenges.” Gordon’s fingers traced some gouges on the fish’s flank. “Old, but nasty.”

“Shark?”

His brother snorted. “No. That’s net scar. It’s been caught in a fishing net at some point. I can’t see any trace of the net, so this has to be one of the lucky ones.” The giant fish drifted lazily across the table as Gordon grabbed his tablet and stabbed his finger into it several times. “It must be well travelled. We are quite a distance from the fishing zones here.”

“I thought I told you to sit down.” Virgil edged carefully back into the room carrying his keyboard.

“And I thought you weren’t supposed to be lifting anything.” Scott hurried over and took the instrument from his brother’s hands.

“It’s not heavy.”

“So I have to look after myself, yet you don’t?”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped. “Okay, okay. Give me a second.” His brother grabbed a couple of cushions and shoved them together on a lounge chair to support his back and lowered himself into it. “Put it here.” He gestured across the arms of the chair and his lap.

Wary, Scott put the keyboard, that, yes, actually was quite heavy, down where his brother told him too. “Be careful.”

Virgil frowned up him with an expression that plainly said, ‘What am I? Stupid?’

“Well, you did carry the keyboard out here, did you not?”

His brother muttered something Scott couldn’t quite hear and wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Now, you sit down and close your eyes.” A pause. “No, actually, lie down on the couch and close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just do as I ask.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but lay down. “You didn’t used to be this bossy.”

“You didn’t used to be this stubborn. Call it evolution in trying times.”

“Smart ass.”

“Shut up and close your eyes.”

Scott muttered under his breath, wriggled where he lay and did as his brother told him. Anything to stop the man from freaking out.

His brother began to play, the keys soft and blending with the water lapping against the hull. With his eyes closed, his mind focussed on the sounds around him. Gordon’s fingers on his tablet, heard just under the music. The distant calls of seabirds. Actually, it wasn’t much of a step from the sounds of home. Virgil playing his piano. Gordon sitting on the lounge playing with his tablet. The balcony doors open to the breeze, the distant sound of the waves on Tracy Island rock, the distant call of the bird colony on Mateo. John would be in his room reading. Alan would be playing a video game in the kitchen while Grandma attempted to make dinner. Brains, as always, would be in his lab.

Virgil playing the piano.

Waves against the rocks.

Birds calling...

Home.

-o-o-o-

Virgil kept playing ever so softly. Gordon had stopped working and was staring at the two of them, frowning.

Scott started snoring.

Gordon’s eyes widened and he mouthed words at Virgil. ‘How do you do that?’

Virgil just smiled and kept on playing, drifting into a long, gentle piece his mother had taught him long ago.

At some point he closed his eyes, too, and let himself go with the music, let his fingers do what the music asked.

He woke to find both Scott and John sitting opposite him.

“That was dirty pool, Virg.”

He blinked. Someone had taken the keyboard away and shoved a few extra pillows into the chair to support him. “You knew what I was doing. I’m just your excuse. How long did you last?”

It was John who spoke up. “About twenty minutes. It was enough. Gordon had to get the boat moving. He woke up the moment the engine started.”

“You, on the other hand, have been out for over two hours.” Scott was smug. “You missed the active volcano.”

Virgil turned to John. “Anything worth looking at?”

His younger brother shrugged. “Looked like an island to me. Bigger than the Rock. No activity at the moment.”

Virgil turned back to Scott. “Sounds like I didn’t miss anything. Where are we now?”

“Anchored at Macauley Island.” Gordon strode across the room. “Hey, Virg. Good to see you awake. You might like to see this.” His fish brother’s grin was highly suspicious.

It took both Scott and John to get him out of the chair. He should not sleep sitting up with abdominal incisions. Ow.

For a moment there he thought Scott was going to send him to bed or demand he take painkillers, but he didn’t. His brother didn’t say anything, and even if he did, a familiar roar distracted Virgil enough that he wouldn’t have noticed if his brother said anything anyway.

He pushed himself forward, leaving his helping hands behind and stepped out onto the deck.

His beautiful ‘bird was roaring in from the north. She moved so fast, he blinked and she was coming to a halt some distance away, VTOL firing her into a hover.

He just stared as she dropped her module.

He blinked as Gordon and Alan suddenly started the engine of an inflatable dingy and tore off towards the module sporting its proud number four.

“Thunderbird Two to Virgil.” Kayo’s voice startled him out of his stare. “So how did I do? Score out of ten.”

The door to the module lowered and Gordon leapt out of the little boat and jumped on board.

“Oh, ten, I guess.”

“Ten?!” Gordon’s outrage yelped across comms as the aquanaut turned in the distance and put both hands on his hips. “I knew he liked you more than me. I haven’t managed anything higher than an eight and I’ve been trying for years!”

Kayo didn’t answer as his ‘bird turned and took off for home, but Virgil grinned. “Keeps you on your toes, bro.”

“You suck.”

Their sister snorted across comms as Alan turned the dingy around and headed back. Gordon glared a glare that made it across the ocean despite the distance and stormed off into the module.

Virgil’s grin just got wider. “Why did he call for Four?”

“Something about helping Melissa. A sensor malfunction in the Macauley caldera.” A glance at Scott found him grinning, too. “You know he’s not going to let that go, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“We’re stuck on a boat, captained by him, in the middle of the ocean and you want to set Gordon off?”

Virgil shrugged. “He’ll enjoy it.”

“We won’t.”

“We’ll live.”

“If I wake up with pink hair, you’re dead.”

“I love you, too.” Virgil was still grinning.

“You do know that you still have your comms on, don’t you?” His aquanaut brother’s voice was admittedly amused.

“Yes, Gordon, I do. Got some good ideas?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” And with that, Four’s rear thrusters fired and she shot out of the module and into the ocean.

“You got your uniform on?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Fly safe.”

“FAB.”

-o-o-o-

End Day Two, Part Two

Day Two, Part Three

[flowerpowell]

The Fourth Time's the Charm? (Colt x MC)

This is my entry for #RoDAW for Colt day! I dont know what time is it there where you live, but here it’s already Colt day (yaay). It’s quite long (whoops, sorry for that) and pls dont be misled by this happy gif above! The fic is a bit angsty, lol. Characters belong to Pixelberry, most dialogues from two first parts belong to Pixelberry as well. No rating, everything is safe here for everyone. 

Word count: ~4000 (whooooops)

Tagging: the hosts: @brightpinkpeppercorn @client-327 @choicesarehard @poeticscolt @queenkaneko and my Colt taglist: @lovehugsandcandy @desiree-0816 @walkerduchess @zaffrenotes @long-gone-girl @choicesthot @umiumichan  @claudevonstruke @going-down-downtown @zaira-oh-zaira ♥

One.

“Ellie, get in the car.”

“Leave me alone.” Ellie tries to keep her voice calm and steady but she’s far from that. She’s mad and he can see it.

“Come on. Let me drive you somewhere. It’s your car.”

“Not anymore. I don’t want anything from you people.”

“Hey, we didn’t all lie to you like Logan,” he frowned

“Yeah, because you care so much about me, humiliating me in front of everyone!”

“If you’re gonna yell at me, at least do it up close from the comfort of the car. Besides... you’ll definitely regret letting your pride win next time you’re riding a bus to school,” he smirks and Ellie rolls her eyes, getting in the car and closing the door behind her. She doesn’t look at him but can tell he’s smiling at his win. 

“So where am I taking you? Home?” he asks but she shakes her head. Home is out of reach for her, at least for a while. 

“I don’t really have much of a home left, thanks to you and the crew. Take me to Riya instead. And stop talking to me,” she says, turning her head so she doesn’t look at him. He sighs before speaking.

“Look, you have every right to be pissed at me. That’s definitely not how I wanted to tell you,” he takes a breath and his voice softens a little before adding, “But I hated knowing that asshole was using you.”

“Just tell me one thing, Colt. How long did you know?”

“Pop didn’t tell me until after the Grapevine job. He didn’t tell me about anything at all until he had no other choice but to trust me. What was I supposed to do, knowing Logan was using you, knowing I wasn’t supposed to say anything? It was eating me up inside, and I just...snapped,” he sounds sincere but she can’t force herself to look at him. Not after the humiliation he put her through.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him. I knew the longer we waited, the more it would hurt you.” 

She turns to him with a full intention to scold him, yell at him but... she can’t. He looks almost broken, almost as if it was hurting him too.

“But you’ve seen the way I look at you too, haven’t you? Why couldn’t you of all people be honest with me?” she says instead. 

“It never seemed like the right time,” he shrugs lightly and silence falls between them until they finally reach the destination.

“You deserve so much more than Logan, Ellie,” he turns to her with a serious look in his eyes, so intense she feels a bit intimidated. 

But she gathers her courage and asks, half confidently, half afraid of the answer, “And who can give me that? You?”

“Hell yeah I can. The rest of the crew, they’re not like us. They’re just scraping by. But the two of us? You and me could run this whole town,” he smirks leaning towards her and her face slowly falls.

“Colt...”

“All I’m saying is...” he swallows hard before continuing, “You belong with someone who knows how much you’re capable of.”

Colt looks her her intensively, and without thinking too much about it, Ellie closes the distance between them and kisses him, hard. He kisses her back almost as hard, and she pours everything into the kiss, the pain, the humiliation, the growing feeling for him, the feeling of being understood, the sadness of realization that this is their goodbye, the last time they’ll see each other. The feeling of finding something precious and the feeling of great loss. 

He pulls her onto his lap, his hand massaging her back, and he asks, in between the kisses, “Is that a ‘yes’?”

They break apart for a moment and she looks confused before her face lights up with realization. 

“To your whole ‘rule the world together’ scheme?”

“That’s the one.”

“It’s a hell yes. We’re gonna be the greatest power couple this city’s ever seen.”

“Damn, you’re sexy.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

He kisses her again, forgetting they’re in a car, forgetting there are people walking and being able to see them, forgetting everything, until Ellie finally breaks apart again. 

“Colt...?”

“Mmm?” He still has his eyes closed and she giggles at the sight. 

“Where do we go from here?” she asks and he finally opens his eyes and looks at her.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re supposed to rule the world together, right? I just... I don’t think I can come back to the garage any time soon. Not after what Logan did, not after what your dad did. And,” she swallows hard, fighting back her tears, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to be visiting me, for a little while, at least.”

“So let’s keep driving. Just say the word and I’ll start the engine.”

“Colt,” her voice breaks slightly, “I can’t just leave my entire life behind. I’ve still got my senior year. It’d be a waste to give up now.”

“It’s just high school.”

“It’s so much more! It’s about what high school represents.” she looks at him expectantly but he doesn’t seem to care much. Her face falls, “You don’t understand.”

“No I don’t. But I do get that this is important to you. I just hate the idea of going back without you.”

“Well maybe next time don’t humiliate me in front of the whole crew.”

He laughs. 

“Fair point. Can we kiss and make up?” he pouts and she kisses him again, slowly but passionately.

“Thank you,” she says when they part and he looks at her puzzled.

“For what?”

“For seeing my worth.”

“You shouldn’t thank me for that. It’s the very least I can do,” he says and she snuggles closer to him, feeling his arms around her, feeling safe and happy. She knows that she’ll have to get out of the car and say goodbye to Colt eventually. Even though he said they would meet again, she knows the chances are small. 

Not after what happened.

Finally, they both get out and Colt looks at her giving her the keys.

“Take the car, will ya? Toby'd never forgive me if I didn’t make you keep it.”

“But... how will you get back?”

“Don’t worry about me.” he says and she nods.

“See you around Colt. Maybe.”

He doesn’t say anything in return, with one last smile he turns back and starts walking away. 

Ellie is standing still, watching the man she fell for, walking away, before being completely gone. Her heart breaks but maybe not all things are meant to last. 

Not everyone is meant to stay in our lives, right?

Maybe this was never meant to be. 

Ellie wipes a tear from her cheek before heading towards Riya’s house. 

If fate has plans for them, she’ll see him again. She’s willing to wait.

Two

"Feels like justice,” Ellie says watching Jason being arrested. It’s been a wild ride but it feels weird to have reached this point. 

“Justice? Justice would be blood for blood... But maybe this is close enough for now,” Colt snorts kicking a pebble on the sidewalk.

“So what’s next for you? Where will you go?”

“Go? I’m going nowhere.”

“What? But the FBI--”

“I’ll lay low for a while. And then I’ll rebuild the garage. Rebuild the crew.”

Well... I think you could run this whole town.”

“It won’t be the same without you running it with me but... yeah, I think so too,” he answers and his expression softens. “What about you? You should be getting back home. You dad will want to talk to you after this.”

“Right...” she feels weird tension in her chest as she speaks again, “So this is... goodbye?”

“Doesn’t have to be just yet.”

“I still remember the first time I saw you. Leaning against your bike just like this. Mocking me.”

“I was a real ass, huh?”

“Little did I know you were just getting started,” she smirks and he lets out a laugh. She’ll miss this sound. “But through it all, I saw something in you.”

“Saw what?”

“A fire.” Ellie risks a look at him and almost can feel the fire from the intensity of his gaze. “I’m afraid you’re going to burn yourself one day, Colt.”

“Maybe. But first I’m going to be great. And so will you.” He wraps her in a tight hug and she inhales the scent that is so perfectly Colt. She’ll miss this smell. 

“I’m ready for this to end, to be honest.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... I’m ready to face the next chapter. I’m ready to face whatever comes next.”

“Ready or not, we’ll have to face the future anyway. We don’t have another choice,” he states and falls silent for a moment. It takes him a while before speaking again, his voice shaking slighly, “You know, I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone like you again.”

And before he can react, Ellie pulls him into a kiss, shutting him up. He pulls her even tighter as he wraps her arms around his neck; one hand playing with his hair. He deepens the kiss and she can swear she sees the stars dancing in front of her. It feels good to be in his arms again. As if she never really left. She’ll miss this feeling.

When they finally part, Colt leans his forehead against hers. He wipes the tears from Ellie’s eyes when she whispers, “Don’t forget me, Colt.”

“I’ll forget my own name before that happens,” he whispers back and they kiss again, the saltiest sweetest goodbye kiss. 

When they finally reach Ellie’s home, he looks in the distance, unable to find words.

“Colt...” she starts.

“This is for the best Ellie, you have school, I have... this. You deserve so much more.” He doesn’t look at her. 

“Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know. But you should live your life, Ellie. Don’t waste your life chasing a ghost.”

“You’re not a ghost, Colt. I’ll wait, please.”

“I love you Ellie. I wish I said it sooner, I wish we met in college and had a normal relationship. But life isn’t always fair. So if you could please do something for me, just move on and live the life you want. Please.” He strokes her cheek and he speaks softly, making her cry even more.

“I love you you too Colt,” she says before he nods and drives off, leaving her heartbroken again, with almost no hope to meet again. 

If fate has plans for them, she’ll see him again. She’s willing to wait.

Three.

"I’m coming!” Ellie hastily runs to open the door for someone has been knocking on it for at least five minutes.

“Yes, how can I--” she trails off when her eyes finally lay on the last person she would expect at her dorm door.

“Hey, Ellie,” Colt smirks and motions towards the inside, “may I come in?”

“Yes, sure, of course,” she’s puzzled, she thought he was either out of the country or in jail. Her heart starts beating faster when she realizes that Colt Kaneko is right here, in her dorm room. And she has no idea why.

“How--? Why--? What happened?” she finally manages to ask. He chuckles seeing her confused expression.

“No, I didn’t ran off from jail, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve never been there, to begin with. However, they’re still looking for me and ehh,” he runs his hand through his hair and she realizes he’s nervous. “Your father, he’s still trying to get me.”

“So you visted me? He will look for you here once he realizes you’re here.”

“I know.”

“So why are you here? Colt, you should run away somewhere, Europe maybe? I mean, I don’t know, where do young criminals go when trying to avoid prison?”

“I’m done running, Ellie,” he says calmly and she’s surpised he’s more relaxed than she is.

“What? Why?”

“Because this life is not life at all. I’m done running away, I’m not a coward. I’m not Logan. If they want to put me in jail, fine. But I don’t want them to think I’m scared. I’m not.”

“Okay, we get it, you’re not scared but you’re not being a coward by avoiding prison!”

“I said it already, Ellie, I’m done running.” He takes a deep breath and looks at her, searching for her hands, “I’m done running from you.”

“Colt...”

“Promise me you’ll visit me. At least once. Just once.”

She fights back tears when she realizes Colt isn’t gonna change his mind and he really wants to go to jail. Her Colt. In jail. For who knows how long. 

“I promise you, Colt,” she quickly says and sees his face change as a feeling relief washes over him. He smiles at her and in one move he leans towards her and kisses her. She deepens the kiss, desperatly trying to savor the feeling she knows she won’t get to experience for some time, if ever again. They move to the couch as he lies on top of her, kissing passionately. After a moment, he stops and she notices the concern on his face. 

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll be ask to testify against me. Be honest, okay? Don’t lie to protect me.”

“But I don’t want to, I’m not gonna say anything.”

Colt sighs as he sits down and helps her up. “You don’t have much choices, El. You’re not my family so...”

“So what? And what about it? I’m not a family so I automatically have to testify against you? Against a guy I love? No way!” she crosses her arms trying to compose herself. 

“Ellie...”

“Wait...” she turns to him with a glint in her eye. “What if got married?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Colt looks at her with his eyes widened, studying her face for any signs of insanity.

“No, hear me out! I won’t have to testify against you and I’ll have something to look forward to when you’re out.”

“If I’m out.”

“Please, Colt. I’m not gonna survive if you’ll leave me again,” her pleads with him.

“Ellie..” he shakes his head and Ellie looks down at her fingers, defeated. 

“You’re right, it’s stupid. You’re young, it’s not like you want to be married now. Forget it.”

“Fine,” he finally says and her jaw drops.

“Wh--what?”

“If that makes you happy, I’ll do it. If you’re sure you want to waste your life waiting me for, okay. I know for sure I’ll never find anyone like you, but are you sure you don’t want better?” He looks up at her and she sees hesitation in his eyes. She plants a kiss on his lips before speaking, “I’m sure.”

Fifteen minutes later, both of them, Colt in his regular clothes and Ellie in her summer white dress, are running to the officiant that agreed to marry them in last minute. She can’t stop laughing at the absurdity of the situation, realizing she’s living her Gossip Girl dream a little. Right when they’re about to enter, she gets a message from her father asking her where they are because he knows Colt was in her dorm minutes ago. She ignores the message hoping it’d give them more time.

“Dearly beloved,” the officiant starts but Colt waves his hand at him.

“Can we please skip all the unnecessary parts? We’re kinda in a rush,” he says and Ellie quickly adds, “We need to be married before my father comes and arrests him.”

The officiant looks at them as if they were crazy and Ellie can hear him muttering something about “kids nowadays” and “Romeo and Juliet giving a bad example to all young couples.”

“Can you actually go straight to the part with ‘do you take blahblahblah’ and then give us the blessing or whatever,” Colt asks but quickly adds “please” when he meets with annoyed gaze of the older man.

Ellie giggles when he reads something aloud and Colt admires how beautiful she looks in that white dress. How innocent, how pure and how--

And how he’s gonna ruin her. 

He gulps when Ellie smiles at him. Can he do it? Can he take away her freedom? His is being taken away but why should she sacrifice her own?

“Do you, Ellie Wheeler, take Colt Kaneko to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” she says and despite the happiness he feels hearing these two words, he also feels an overwhelming heaviness in his heart. In the corner of his eyes he sees Ellie’s father standing in front of the building. In a few moments he’s gonna be taken to jail and she’s gonna stay, caged like a bird in marriage with a prisoner. He can’t let her do this. He wasn’t able to save his life but he can save hers.

“Do you, Colt Kaneko, take Ellie Wheeler, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in marriage?  Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?” The officiant  turns to him and he realizes everyone is looking at him. And he feels like he can’t speak, the lump in his throat growing bigger and bigger with each second. 

“Colt?” Ellie asks quietly reaching for his hand but he senses a kind of nervousness in her voice.

“I--I don’t” he finally says and Ellie lets go of his hand. The officiant gasps and so does Ellie.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry Ellie,” he whispers, “I can’t do this to you. You deserve better.”

“But you’re already the best! I want you, please, Colt...” she pleads but he only shakes his head and smiles sadly, tears forming in his eyes. 

“I love you, Ellie. I love you too much to let you do this so you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

“I won’t! I--”

“I won’t let you waste your life, Ellie. I’ve wasted mine but you still have a chance. You’re gonna graduate in a few months, you’re gonna find a job, a man who’s not a messed up criminal, you’re gonna be happy, got it?”

“Colt, please!”

“Open the door! I know you’re here Mr Kaneko. You know exactly why we’re here!” Ellie can hear her father’s voice but she’s too weak to do anything. Tears are falling on her checks and she can barely see Colt opening the door and letting them take him away, away from her.

And just like that, he leaves her again. 

The third time’s the charm? I guess it doesn’t work for me. Fate clearly doesn’t have plans for them. 

And maybe she’s done waiting. 

Four

It’s finally spring again and for the first time in weeks, it’s actually warm. Ellie sits down on one of the benches on the playground. She quickly glances at the two kids playing in the sandbox and she closes her eyes turning her head in the direction of the first rays of sunshine in a long time. Luckily, the kids don’t need her today and she can enjoy her own company, even if just for a moment. 

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” she hears a voice behind her and she turns to the speaker, slightly annoyed at the interruption of her meditation. She freezes when she sees him and smiles involuntarily, as if it was a natural reaction to seeing him.

Even though it’s been at least ten years since she saw him last, in that room with the officiant, Colt hasn’t aged at all. A few wringles on his forehead and some occasional grey hairs here and there but apart from that, it’s still the same Colt she knew and loved.

“No,” she answers and moves a little so he can sit. They don’t talk and she doesn’t even glance at him; her eyes are trained on two little girls building castles.

“How have you been?” he asks and she feels his eyes on her.

“Good. You?” She keeps it simple. How long is it gonna be before he’ll leave again?

“Okay. Been released from jail. Saw you here and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I--” he stops for a second as if testing the waters, “I missed you.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t left me then the regret would be smaller,” she answers, still not looking at him.

“I don’t regret it. I’ve done many awful things I regret but not this. Look at you. You’re happy, you’re free. You have two beautiful kids. You wouldn’t have that if I had said ‘I do” then. I just wanted your happiness.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while, processing her thoughts. Her initial anger faded away a long time ago when she understood his reasons. She signs before speaking.

“They’re not mine.”

“Huh?”

“The kids. They’re Riya’s,” she explains nodding towards a little girl helping her sister.

“But...”

“I don’t have kids and I’m not married.”

“But I thought... I thought...”

“That I’d move on?” she laughed, “Oh yes, I wanted to. I wanted to hate you so bad. I never visited you in jail, did I? That’s how angry I was. But I kept asking Dad about you and I knew everything. And at some point, I understood. And as much I as I wanted to move on with someone else, stop waiting for you, I couldn’t. I hated you for that.”

“I’m sorry, Ellie. For everything. But is it wrong if I say I’m a bit happy you didn’t move on? That despite it all you still waited? I’m an awful person I know.”

“It is just as wrong as me being happy seeing you here.”

“We’re both awful people, huh?” he laughs and she turns to him, smiling. She missed him. No one has even come close to Colt Kaneko.

“And Ellie, I know I don’t deserve you after all that happened but I’m back for good now. No running away, no jail. And if you still want me... Cause I never stopped wanting you.”

“I don’t know Colt,” she signed, “You know what they say, ‘the third time’s the charm’ and we already wasted it. What if we waste this one, too?”

“Screw them. Three times are for the losers. Fourth time is the lucky one,” he says confidently and takes Ellie’s hand.

“Yeah...? Who says that?” she asks but can’t help but smile at him.

“I do. And I've got a hunch that fourth time’s the charm for us.”

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[logicalbookthief]

Game Night

So I actually had most of this written before 15x18, and then the episode gave us great Maggie + B team moments, so I figured, well, now I have to deliver. 

Featuring drunk interns, Schmico, canon-compliant Jaggie (barely but for the sake of, yanno, canon) and teeny-tiny hints to potential future Caggie because @schmicoismysunsword has convinced me it ships.

Now cross-posted on ao3!

Maggie doesn’t make a habit of mixing her professional life with her personal one. Aside from the fact that her sisters work at the same hospital as she does, as does her boyfriend, and her ex-- Look, the point is, Maggie tries to keep her private life a private one, albeit not with the passion of Dr. Bailey. 

Just -- she has the unfortunate tendency to babble. Aloud. To anyone nearby, who might be listening.

Which meant unintentionally venting to interns, who were always around, and always eager to listen. It starts with Parker, who, if not sworn to secrecy, at least has the decency to pretend he isn’t hanging off every word that comes out of her mouth. Schmitt is one of the more eager of the bunch and he happens to be on her service today. 

“Game night,” she mutters long-sufferingly. “Why tonight, when Meredith and Amelia are busy, and apparently, I don’t have enough of a life where I have any excuse to be somewhere else.” 

“Oh, right, the football game is tonight. Nic-- Dr. Kim mentioned that was a thing-- a thing Dr. Avery does,” Schmitt stutters, casting some furtive, flustered looks her way. Honestly, Maggie isn’t paying attention.

“I hate when I have to pretend to care about sports on TV. You know what else is on tonight?  The Magicians. But you don’t see me making a night of it with friends.” Not that she has any, apparently. At least, any without kids or prior commitments. 

Maggie deflates, more self-conscious than she means to be. “April enjoyed watching sports. Or maybe she was better at pretending than I am...”

Something dejected in her tone must spark a bit of nerve in Schmitt, who clears his throat. “Hey, you could -- uh, you could come out with us tonight,” he says, shrinking a bit under her stare. “Uh, if you wanted.” 

“Us?” she echoes critically. 

“Oh, um, well there’s me, Doctors Helm, Qadri, Parker--” All interns, Maggie mentally concludes, at the exact moment Schmitt realizes he’s asking an attending to tag along with his friends. 

“Never mind, it--” Finding an extra burst of nerve, Schmitt spews out in a rush, “It’s trivia night at this pub we like and you’d make a great ringer.”

Then he goes on ahead to the next patient on their rounds, as Maggie blinks. Has she sunk so low to consider to hanging out with a couple of kids? 

Except, she thinks with a wince, that sounds exactly like something Kiki would’ve said to her. After all, it isn’t as if the interns are that much younger than she is. Maggie’s so far ahead it only feels that way. She was always the kid to talk to the adults rather than friends her own age. And when she attended her first year of medical school still in braces while her peers were all adults, she had no choice but to grow up fast. 

Sacrificing one night of professional integrity probably wouldn’t tarnish her career forever. And a trivia night is exactly the sort of brain flexing she would prefer over an evening of her male coworkers yelling about a ball not making it over the right line. 

“What happens outside of the hospital, stays outside of the hospital,” Maggie springs on a stunned Schmitt, ending any further discussion with a firm glance. “I’ll be there at 7.”

“Dr. Pierce, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Qadri begins, and then, with the utmost reverence, “You fucking rock at trivia.” 

Schmitt and Parker whoop in agreement. 

“I do,” Maggie asserts, flushed with victory. And it’s probably the jalapeno poppers, too.

“I can’t believe you argued with the guy asking the questions,” Schmitt admits. “And you won.”

“Well, if you don’t have an encyclopedia knowledge of Happy Potter,” she preens. “Don’t try me.”

Helm returns with the celebratory round of shots, including one for her. Is it unethical to take shots with your interns? While on the clock, yes, definitely. Then again, it’s a little unethical to sleep with interns, too, and yet--

Maggie downs the shot. 

Parker hisses as the burn of alcohol slides down his throat. “I need at least three more of those after the study session I pulled last night,” he says, winded. 

“Right, your intern exams are coming up.” A swell of fondness rises in her chest as she remembers toiling over her textbooks, the ease of assessment, the pride of passing with high marks. “You guys excited?”

A chorus of groans answers her question. Oh, right. Not everyone was a child prodigy who gloried in tests. Maggie flinches and figures to hell with it, she’s already in this deep. She orders the next round of shots. 

“I’ve read so much I wore out my contacts,” Schmitt mumbles, his cheek plastered against the table. 

“Did you fall asleep wearing them again?” Taryn huffs at his miserable nod. “Dude, you’re going to go blind.”

“And fail your exam,” Parker adds, prompting another groan. 

Maggie has the weird urge to pat his head consolingly. Luckily, Qadri does it instead. “At least if you fail you have a hot surgeon boyfriend to support you,” she mutters enviously. 

“You could be a house-husband,” Helm proposes, raising her glass at Maggie and Qadri. “Because it’s 2019 and that’s equality.”

Schmitt seems to consider this seriously.

“You wouldn’t have to shave fish,” Qadri tacks on, wrinkling her nose. “No offense.”

It takes a full minute for Maggie to realize the remark is directed at her. “Oh! None taken,” she says quickly. “I take no responsibility for that exercise. Or the smell.”

“Which still hasn’t come out of my hijab,” Qadri mourns. Seeing Qadri look any amount of sad, Maggie decides suddenly, should be a crime listed under do no harm. 

“I’m sorry,” she offers. “I’ll make Jackson buy you a new one!”

For some reason, that sets them into a fit of giggles.

“Drunk Dr. Pierce is the best,” Parker declares, and then blushes, bright and splotchy. “Except for, uh, sober Dr. Pierce. She’s the most wonderful, uh--”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself,” says Helm, wryly.

“Sober Dr. Pierce would be at home, pretending to care about sports,” Maggie scoffs. 

“With Link, Dr. Avery and Dr. Kim?” Dahlia grins. “Sounds like a dream.”

“Pretty sure we’ve all had that dream,” Levi snorts. 

“Uh, hello?” Helm pulls a face, jerking a thumb at herself. “Lesbian.”

“Everyone except Taryn has probably had that dream,” he amends. 

“Her, and me,” Maggie says blandly. Alcohol loosens her tongue almost as much as bullies and outrage. “As if our free time isn’t limited enough by his projects, and my environmental research, now Jackson’s gone and bonded with his new buddy Link, who loves sports, and camping, and nature, and -- bikes, I guess?”

“Nico says Link’s got a man-crush on Dr. Avery,” Schmitt whispers in what’s not really a whisper. Parker snorts messily into his drink, which she finds weirdly endearing.

“Please tell me Kim also has one of those secret bro handshakes with Link?” Maggie begs.

Schmitt nods. “Yeah, no, they do. He tried to show me it once, but I, um, accidently hit his chin with my open palm.”

Fits of laughter overcome the group while Schmitt flushes. “Aw. Did you kiss it better?” Parker wheedles. 

“I don’t kiss and tell,” says Schmitt, tight-lipped. 

“You do so,” Helm snorts, shoving him in the chest.

“Hey,” says Qadri, noting how Maggie’s spaced out. “At least if he’s watching sports and -- I dunno, crushing beer cans? -- with Dr. Link and Levi’s ortho god, then you don’t have to act like you want to hear about baseball.” 

“Football,” Parker corrects. 

“There’s a difference?” Qadri wonders. 

Maggie would try to answer, except the implication has finally sunk in. “His ortho god?” she asks, gesturing skeptically at Schmitt. 

“Yuh huh. Dr. Kim is his boyfriend,” Helm shares with relish. 

“Oh!” What she means to say is congrats, yet what emerges is a clumsy, “Wow. Good job.” 

Schmitt only shrugs. “I don’t know how,” he confesses in a slightly dazed tone. “Sometimes I think I died in that freak windstorm and this is just the last of my synapses firing off one last wet dream.”

“Dude, that’s dark,” Parker murmurs. 

“I haven’t slept or had sex in...” Schmitt pauses, clearly wracking his brain. “What’s today?”

“Preaching to the choir,” Maggie mutters. Huh, maybe that has something to do with her mood. 

“Oh, God,” Dahlia exclaims, as if she just cracked the code. “What if that’s why. What if Link is sleeping with Dr. Avery??” 

Parker nods sagely. “That makes sense.”

“Oh, God,” Maggie echoes. After a couple shots of tequila, the theory seems totally plausible. “Oh, no, what do I--”

“Don’t worry,” Schmitt interjects, radiating a suspicious amount of calm. “Link is too busy fooling around with Dr. Shepperd to sleep with your boyfriend.” 

Maggie exhales in relief. Then it dawns on her, what he actually said. “Wait,” she yelps. “What? He’s sleeping with my sister?”

Schmitt blinks. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know!” Maggie gapes. “How did you know?!”

“He’s fucking the other ortho god,” Helm and Qadri chime in. 

“Right,” says Maggie, slowly and with effort. “Right, okay, I’ve got to remember that detail for tomorrow. So maybe, only … one more round of shots?”

Helm’s eyes light up. “Dr. Pierce is the coolest,” she declares, and the rest unanimously agree. 

Maggie Pierce has never been named the coolest anything -- the most impressive, sure, and the most talented by far -- so she can’t help the thrill that shoots through her, headier than any glass of alcohol.

“We’re taking a Lyft.” Parker has emerged as de-facto leader of the drunk brigade, voted in as least likely to order an axe-murderer for a driver. “Levi, you in?” 

Schmitt shakes his head, wincing as it jostles his precarious balance. “Nico said he would pick me up if I wanted.”

Helm snickers. “House-husband,” she sing-songs at him. 

“Breadwinner,” Schmitt fires back. Neither of these are insults, Maggie notes, uncertain if she should point this out.  

“Ma--” Parker catches himself with another blush. “Dr. Pierce, do you, uh, need a ride?” 

“Hey!” Schmitt says like he’s had a full-on brainblast. “You can wait with me and Nico can get you, too.”  

“Really?” Maggie perks. It saved her the trouble of calling anyone liable to embarrass her; namely, either of her sisters or worse, Karev. “That would be fantastic.”

“Sure, he’s already at Jackson’s place,” Schmitt replies confidently. If she were slightly more sober, Maggie doubts that logic would hold up to scrutiny. As it is, it makes perfect sense to wait for Schmitt’s ortho god to drop her off at the place he drove in from.  

Turns out, Dr. Kim is a sexy sight to behold, even with a proprietary arm wrapped around Schmitt, who’s too busy mumbling grateful nonsense into his shoulder to notice the adoration in his boyfriend’s gaze. 

If he is surprised to catch Maggie in a similar state of inebriation, Kim has the decency to make no mention of this. Instantly, he’s her new favorite attending-level doctor. He is also a gentleman, offering Maggie his hand as she clamors into the backseat of his car, all the while still steadying Schmitt with a hand clasped over his waist. 

Maggie marvels at the coordination and strength, wonders if he could carry them both simultaneously, should the need arise.

“He’s awesome at carrying people,” Schmitt brags, meaning that, whoops, she said that aloud. 

Kim chuckles. “Thanks, babe,” he says, wryly. “But at the risk of oversharing, maybe don’t go into detail.”

“What, that it’s a sex thing?” Schmitt says in what he clearly believes is a whisper for their ears only, before he collapses back onto the seat, supremely self-satisfied. At exactly the same volume, he adds, “See? I can be discreet.”

“Great job,” Kim snorts, unimpressed. And yet unable to resist pressing a kiss into his boyfriend’s brow before he starts up the engine. They’re cute, Maggie thinks blearily, and hopes she managed to keep the thought inside her head. 

Judging by the grin Kim shoots her out of the corner of his eye, she probably didn’t succeed. 

Jackson looks surprised to see Nico at his door again, not that long after he left. “Hey, man. Did you forget something?”

“Nope,” says Nico, cheerily. “Just doing a drop-off.”

“You--” Jackson stares in bewilderment, until Nico moves aside, allowing his passenger to sidestep his bulk. “Mags?” 

Maggie stumbles to the door, using one of his sturdy biceps for balance. “Thanks for the lift, Kim,” she waves over her shoulder.

He nods, still smirking as he walks back to his car, away from the bewildered Jackson.

“Mags, are you -- you good?” He hovers close behind as she carefully navigates the stairs, forgoing the temptation of the couch for the queen-sized bed. 

“I,” Maggie begins, slurring with great dignity. “Fucking rock at trivia.” 

The morning-after is almost worth the hangover. Watching Jackson try to puzzle out what she got up to last night -- and exactly how Dr. Kim fits into the picture -- is too funny, since Maggie deigns to tell him only the bare minimum, lest she look as silly as she feels when she walks into work with a lingering stuffiness.

“Wow. You look as though you need at least a double-shot,” says a familiar voice, rippling with sympathy, but also a fair bit of humor. “Good thing I got you a triple.”

Maggie stares blankly at Kim and at the to-go cup suddenly placed in her hands. Truly he is a kind and benevolent ortho god. “What’s this for?” 

Kim grins. “Last night my boyfriend went on about how cool Dr. Pierce was, and how hungover you’d be, and that it was his fault,” he explains, obviously quite amused. “And this morning he groggily demanded I make amends by being especially nice to you this morning. Hence, coffee.”

“That is--” A level of thoughtfulness that made all boyfriends, including her own, seem like total jackasses in comparison. Nico smirks as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking and enjoys the high ground very much. “So unnecessarily sweet. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, and leans in, a sheepish twitch to his unfaltering smile. “I’d also appreciate if he didn’t get fired over whatever you may or may not have heard last night.”

Maggie laughs. 

“Honestly, I’ve forgotten a decent amount already,” she admits, for the sake of all three of them. “Except the part about Dr. Link and my sister?”

Kim chokes on his sip of coffee. “Ah, you didn’t hear that from me.”

“No, I heard that from your drunk boyfriend,” she replies, picking up the pace to follow his long strides. “But I absolutely need to hear more from you!”

At his reluctance, Maggie pulls out her trump card. “I’ll buy you a bagel.”

Nico stops to considers her. “Multigrain, veggie cream cheese?” 

Evidently, Kim has a price. Maggie appreciates in someone who is still, until further notice, her favorite attending.

Petition for more of what 15x18 gave us with Maggie and the interns? And for Maggie and Nico to become friends?? Hire me Grey’s

[dlwritings]

WRITING CHALLENGE

WHOOP WHOOP!

I hit 1,000 followers! What a day to be alive! Hello to all of you wonderful humans. I’m glad you like the words I put together that sometimes form sentences.

To celebrate, I’ve decided to throw together a writing challenge. I’ve always wanted to do this. I love participating in these, so I thought I’d throw one. If it bombs, that’s okay. I’m not going to put a deadline on it or anything. It’s my first one, so I don’t expect the ground to shake and mobs of people to ask for prompts. I’m learning things don’t have to go perfectly for them to be fun!

All the prompts I came up with are either from movies, TV shows, or “celebrity people.” Check out the rules and prompts below the cut:

Rules/Regulations:

Send me an ask with the prompt you want and the person you’d like to write for

You don’t have to be following me, but it sure would be dandy!

If you participate, reblog this to spread the word!

I’m not a big stickler about the whole “keep reading” shebang, but I know a lot of people are, so to keep everyone’s feed nice and clean, try and remember to insert “keep reading” after about 500 words

Your entry can be part of a series, I don’t mind

All characters in NSFW work must be 18+

TAG SENSITIVE MATERIAL (ie, rape, self harm, eating disorders, abuse, violence, gore, NSFW, you know the deal)

I’m going to limit each prompt to two entries, so first come first serve

Both entries cannot be written about the same person (I don’t know how to better word this, so example: if you pick prompt 1 and want to write it with Peter P, you’re the only person who can write prompt 1 with Peter P)

I write Thor, Chris Evans, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sebastian Stan, Peter Parker, Tom Holland, and Harrison Osterfield, but feel free to write about any character or actor in the MCU. As this is a Marvel blog, you must write about someone involved in the MCU

All pronouns are interchangeable! Feel free to make a “him” a “her,” “them,” or “you.” Mold it to your story fam

Stories must be x reader

Tag me in your submission and use the hashtag danis1kwc so I can see it and reblog it!

Have loads of fun!

Prompts:

Movies

If you pull this off, you’ll be my new favorite moment in human history - Men in Black III | @lclflwrgrl with Pietro Maximoff

Whatever this is between us, it is good. It is so good. It is actually the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I don’t want it to be over - What If | @sherrybaby14 with Steve Rogers

You have given me the adventure of a lifetime in one night - Night at the Museum: Battle at the Smithsonian

All I want, like, in the world, is to just keep talking to you - The First Time

You wanna hurt me? Go right ahead if it makes you feel any better. I’m an easy target - Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

You are the most talented, most interesting, and most extraordinary person in the universe - The Lego Movie

One day you’re going to meet a boy who treats you the way you deserve to be treated - 17 Again

I love how she makes me feel, like anything’s possible, or like life is worth it - 500 Days of Summer

People like her don’t belong in our world - A Cinderella Story

You could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve that boy - The Hunger Games: Catching Fire | @thepaperpanda with Steve Rogers

TV Shows

It took me so long to do so many important things - The Office

He wanted desperately to save her, and even though she couldn’t admit it, she wanted desperately to be saved - Recovery Road

If the world was ending tomorrow, I’d want to be with him - Parks and Recreation

The thing about stories is that not all of them have happy endings - My Mad Fat Diary [optional addition: “But some do.”]

“They seem great together. Like it was meant to be.” “If you believe in that sort of thing.” - NCIS

Here I am! Sitting on my suitcase, wondering where I belong - Jonas LA | @spiderkat1248 with Tom Holland

If you’re going to run, run straight to me - Flashpoint

At the end of the day, we all have to live with our choices - Gossip Girl | @time-travel-bouqet with Bucky Barnes

How can I be upset over something I never had - Friends

All I understood was that she was the girl I sat up every night thinking about, and when I’m with her, I feel happy to be alive - Boy Meets World

“Celebrity People”

I just crave the chance to paint a life full of my own fairy tales - Eva Gutowski

Sure, there are probably infinite dimensions, but I’m with you in this one, so why would I try to find them? - Neil Hilborn

He never meant a single word of any of it. He is just a boy, remember? He is just another, silly, sad boy - Edwin Bodney

What have you got to lose? Dignity always grows back with time - Louise Pentland

Please don’t die. I quite like you, even after all of this - Jim Chapman | @sergeanttucker with Tony Stark

There’s more things in life than pizza takeaway and the Internet - Alfie Deyes

As long as you’re happy and healthy, fuck what anybody else says - Troye Sivan

I spent my whole life trying to be this and look like this, and guess what? I’m not this - Demi Lovato

Sometimes it takes being away from someone for a while to realize how much you really need them - Liam Payne

What’s happened, happened. It doesn’t matter how many times I go over it in my head or think about what I should’ve done. It’s not going to change anything - Tyler Ward

[zone-rats]

hey. haha. happy 2019. this may be harder to write than i thought it would be.

first, just to make it explicitly clear: zone-rats is over. finished. discontinued. forever. and it’s…. sad. but necessary.

i started this blog in november of 2016, shortly after i first got obsessed with danger days and the killjoys universe. it was something that i needed to do, i needed to get my ideas and my take on the killjoys out there into the world. i would have exploded if i hadn’t. this blog (although it’s so much more than that; i like to think of it as a multimedia experience when i’m feeling particularly pretentious) is a labor of love. i loved it. i loved the characters. i loved all of you who read it. it was a piece of art that made me very happy. but it always was going to end, and i knew this from the instant i decided to undertake this project. i didn’t want it to just fizzle out, i didn’t want for the posts to suddenly stop without warning, without any sort of closure for anyone. so i swore to myself that zone-rats would end before 2019 (technically i’m a little late to that; it officially ended january 3rd. whoops). nothing lasts forever, and nothing should last forever. i wanted it to be as good for as long as it could be, and then give it a decisive and meaningful ending before i either became too busy for it, or lost my passion for it, or both. i can only hope that i achieved that.

over the twenty-six months that i’ve run this blog, so much has happened. i survived the worst year of my life. my first relationship began and ended. i started college. i’ve made so many important friends. i’ve done crazy things to my hair. i’ve taken up guitar. i got a therapist, and started taking medication, which has had a massive positive impact on my mental health– and so many more things. and all the while, zone-rats has been a part of what i do. ending it feels like cutting off a limb. but it’s time. because after all, who wants to live forever?

i have to keep moving forward. who knows what’s coming next– what i’m going to do after this chapter of my artistic career comes to a close? not me, that’s for sure. but that’s okay. i’ve made something of which i am proud. onwards and upwards.

i want to thank everyone who liked zone-rats, whether they’ve been here since the very beginning or only discovered it yesterday (sorry). knowing that this project meant something to people is… one of the best feelings in the world. zone-rats meant a lot to me too. all i’ve ever wanted is to create things that impact people. thank you, thank you, thank you. this is as much your baby as it is mine: your prompts and questions directed practically everything i ended up sharing on here (even though there were so, so many bad asks. you guys really wanted to see party naked, huh).

i more specifically want to thank: mac, for being my best friend, my partner in grime, my ramen buddy, for naming an art show after this blog, for letting me stay in your house. nat, the craziest writer i know, for being the number one zone-rats fan and saying so many nice things to me. arden, for all your lovely tags and for engaging in a dodgeball-like battle of gifts, where we threw writing and art at each other, respectively. steph, for all the explosions. keep burning both ends. mitch, for being here since the beginning. ten van winkle, for creating the party poison askblog that i loved so much i felt compelled to make one of my own or i would die. everyone who was in the killjoys fandom in 2016/2017: you welcomed me and my ideas and my art, and i had so, so, so much fun with it. also special thanks to literally everyone else who ran a killjoys askblog. you guys fucking ruled. let’s add another defunct killjoys blog to the pyre, huh? uh, i dunno, i guess i might as well thank gerard way and everyone else involved in creating danger days for letting me have this giant sandbox to play around in. i mean, he’s never going to read this, but why not? i am thankful for him!

ah, and last, but certainly, certainly not least– thanks, party poison. i hope you’ll be noodling around in your own little private corner of my brain for as long as i fucking live. it’s been so fun having you along for the ride. love you all. love you all so much.

before i go, here’s a reminder that you can still contact me on my main blog. and here’s a killjoys-inspired playlist that i listened to every single time i drew a response for this blog.

signing off,

katz

[ettawritesnstudies]

August Monthly Goal Update

Hello! By the time this goes up, the other post I wrote detailing my monthly goal process should have been published so I’m not going to explain much farther here. Future updates will have the link. This month was *wild* guys. I went of vacation the 1st - 5th, my boss scheduled me to work the 6th - 17th, and I moved into college and had orientation the 22nd - 25th, which meant I had a lot of things to accomplish. 

I completed 25/30 goals this month, winning by a 10-point margin! In retrospect, some of these goals were easier than I expected and so I could have combined them and added more. A lot of them are also recurring goals that just didn’t happen because of my wacky schedule. With such a big adjustment with college, I expected this month to be an outlier, and I’m sure my September list will reflect my new schedule. Let me know what you’re up to and how your months are going by tagging me or using the hashtag #monthlygoalsupdate!

If you want to read more, the list is below the cut!

Donate Hair - I got my hair cut in late July and donated 10 inches to charity! Children With Hair Loss is a great organization that gives hairpieces to kids dealing with medical issues (cancer, of course, as well as burns, Alopecia, and Trichotillomania, and others) for FREE. 10/10 recommend checking them out.

Clean my room before I leave for college - no small feat

Buy and pack all college supplies

Go through clothes and pack those

Make #1month1language post a week - whoops. I’m trying again in September! I did turn my phone’s langage to Italian tho

Make an Italian learning schedule 

Make a Spanish learning schedule - I’m counting these two as half-done since I made viable schedules for both but only stuck to it about half the time.

Buy new glasses - yep, I bit that bullet

Send out more graduation cards - they never ever end

Finish alcohol safety training for college

Deposit money into school laundry/debit account

Read student handbook

Complete academic integrity training

Find syllabi for each class and add all dates to the planner - I have 3 of my classes done as of writing this, and I’ll get the rest of the syllabi this week, so this will definitely be done by the end of the month

Send thank-you notes to advisors - I met with advisors before school started to figure out my wacky schedule and thought a thanks would be in order given that they did it over the summer

Get a work-study job as a lifeguard

Write 20,000 words - I haven’t touched my book at all since camp nano ended :(

Publish Worrywart parts 1, 2, and 3 - I write Newsies fanfic too! You can find me on ff.net with the username “mgsglacier”

Get 2nd meningitis shot for school and update health info - vaccines are important y’all

Send vaccination history to uni

Put away diploma - funny story: at graduation, we got our diplomas in envelopes with a bunch of other stuff after the ceremony, and I kind of threw it on my dresser to deal with later. I didn’t realize until I did this goal that I graduated 4th in my class. I thought I was 12th before. :0

Do 1 devotion outside Mass once a week - I did like 3 one week and none the other week, so this technically doesn’t count.

Update check register - adulting is hard guys

Keep up with other Uni obligations - this is vague, but they gave us a list a mile long to do and most of them are things that can be done in ~10 minutes so this is my way of bundling them into one goal

Exercise twice a week - I have no excuses

Have 1 me-day - I’m really bad at taking a break and end up working myself to burnout if I don’t put this on a to-do list. :P

Get together with two specific friends - I have no excuse besides a busy schedule but I’m still sad this didn’t happen

Meet with my mentor once and report conversation - my university has a really cool mentorship program for women engineers! I’m going for coffee with her on Thursday!

Play piano/guitar once a week - unfortunately not this month, but I’m in an Arts themed dorm and it’s so nice because there’s ALWAYS someone singing or playing, so this will definitely get done in September!

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!