#i should have measured it yesterday when my body was being Funny

[bignutspatrol]

Got 116 on a blood sugar test kit my mom has, I didn't eat for like.. 2 hours..?? I feel way better then I did yesterday, and she said that's a "pretty good reading"... not sure what that means. Online is giving me 58284 different answers.

I have.. no idea what this shit meaaanns. I'm just gonna straight up kill someone at this point

[butmakeitgayblog]

The thing with °C is understandable if you think about our body temperature.

We (people that use °C) know that our temperature go between 36 to 37° (from 38° to 40° is fever where 40° is "dangerous fever" and from 41° on is "ehi, you know, not for being a bother, but you're probably dying").

That being said we know other two things:

1. On a scale from 0 to 100, water iced from 0 to below;

2. On a scale from 0 to 100, water boiled at 100 or more.

So.

Because our body has to interact with the temperature outside of it, we know that if I have 36.5° of body temperature that has to live with 10°, I'll be cold because I'm very near to 0°, 17° is chill, not cold not hot, because is in the middle between 0° and my body temperature.

25° is warm, the "I need a t-shirt" kind of warm (even though my friends think I'm crazy because at 25° I walk around with hoodies).

30° is hot - but a kind of hot some people like - because is very near to 36° (our body temperature).

40° or 50° (we reach 50° in South regions near the sea, only in summer) is way too hot because is feverish temperature and our body need to compensate the thermal shock (plus the humidity that make you feel more ° and you just want to fly to Antarctica).

It's all about body compensation between its ° and the outside.

But it's simple because it's a decimal system and it's the same with mm, cm, m, and so on.

(I'm not a doctor or a scientist or a biologist so I tried to remember what I studied in school many years ago).

But when I have to convert °C to °F or cm to inches, uff, that is a ride. 😂

104 °F is like 40°, why? 😂

No shame! You do you and it's funny to convert but... You have an onlyfan measurement system with feet and inches. 😂😂

Ok I'm gonna be real with you, none of that made sense to me. You say 0 to 100 and then say 30 is a lot. If anything I feel like the 0 to 100 scale bolsters my method of farenheit because it's a one to one unit of measurement in F degrees. I was trying to explain this yesterday and I just feel either I'm not explaining it well or there really is always gonna be a divide in relatability because of what each side can envision, but to me if you look at Fahrenheit like percentages it's easy. It's not a perfect analogy but I think it's intuitive enough. If you picture a glass with water, and I say that glass is 90% full, you're gonna think of an almost full glass. So if I say it is 90% hot outside (ie 90 degrees Fahrenheit) you're gone think that's pretty hot.

In terms of body temp, we run at a normal 98.6 average. Humans are naturally hot. So, if you've got a 104 degree temp, that's really fuckin hot and you need to see a doctor like,,, now. If it's 98 degrees out (98%) that's like walking around in air that's the same heat as another person blanketing your entire body. Fucking hot as shit. And it works the same in relation to air. But when you look me in my cold dead eyes and tell me it's 30 degrees celcius and that somehow I should know 30 is a lot, I have no idea what that means. If I look at you and say hey on a scale of 0 to 100 it's 90 percent hot out, it just feels intuitive to me.

But again I think it's just one of those things that C's and F's can't relate to because their point references are entirely different

That being said??

I lost my fucking shit at "onlyfans measurement system" omg 😂😂😂😂 and ok we did take the L on that one. But I stand by my bitch farenheit because celcius makes no sense to me in any way shape or form

[lazysublimeengineer]

You’re my Gofer!

Summary: One shot sequel to crystal clear.

Takemichi’s brain short circuited at the sight that greeted his eyes.

When Akashi mentioned to him yesterday that he should be prepared, he wasn’t expecting this kind of surprise.

Characters: Takemichi H. Draken R. & Senju K.

Takemichi swallowed thickly and clenched his fists as he watched the growing tension between Draken, Akashi and Senju.

While he understood and appreciated Draken’s overprotectiveness and not wanting to involve him in the world of delinquency again, Takemichi also realized that joining the Brahman will make him reached his goal faster of defeating Mikey and preventing him of going down the path of the terrible ending that was waiting for him in the future.

He can’t be indecisive now.

‘If I don’t make any decisions now, then nothing will change!’ Takemichi thought firmly.

“Draken-kun. I’ll join Brahman!” He announced resolutely.

“Huh?!” Draken looked taken aback by his decision.

Draken just took a one look at his face and he knew that he can’t really stop Takemichi no matter what he does. He’s just as stubborn as Mikey. Or even more so. This was what he actually fears when Takemichi knew everything. Takemichi will join the fray regardless if its dangerous or not. He knew that Takemichi was an adult that can make his own decisions but fuck, he didn’t want him to risk his life for Mikey or anyone of them ever again.

There’s a great future waiting for him back there but he still chose to go back here into the past to fix everything. Again. He just hoped that it’ll be all worth it in the end.

“Draken… As much as Brahman wants to stop Kantou Manji Gang…”

Akashi’s voice cut off his racing thoughts and looked pensively on the ground. “There’s no way we want to fight Mikey.”

“That’s why we need both of you, the very people whom Mikey trusts. Facing him without getting in a fight would be for the best. Please understand.” Akashi replied seriously.

Draken pondered over his words.

The pelting of the raindrops from the above had ceased and the sky grew clearer afterwards. It didn’t go unnoticed by Senju who moved his umbrella from the side and stared up at the sky.

“Oh, it stopped raining.” There was a certain look into his eyes as he stared up at the small puffs of white clouds that’s beginning to show itself. Funny, how the sky grew clearer and the weather became calmer after Takemichi had accepted their offer of joining their gang.

Was he a secret weather magician too? Takemichi could spread his sunshine and brightness even to the gray clouds beyond them. A slight curved of his lips turned upwards at the mere thought.

Draken sighed in defeat as he looked over at Takemichi’s determined face. “Well, that’s Takemitchy for ya. Keep in mind that the only reason we’re cooperating with Brahman is because of our aligning goals.” He said firmly.

“…Got it.” Takemichi replied.

“Don’t you forget about that. Welcome to Brahman, Takemitchy.” Draken smiled at him and offered his hand in front of him.

Takemichi took his hand, enveloping it in a gentle yet firm handshake. “I will definitely bring Mikey back!”

Draken could feel the callouses on his hands, a sign of the hardships that he already went through in saving all of them. And yet he could also sensed the warm sincerity beneath them, engulfing him in a state of reassurance and trust. He may have to risk again in putting of his faith in Takemichi. And that’s the one thing that he won’t hesitate in doing so now.

If there’s one thing that Takemichi’s well known of, it’s his keeping and fulfilling his promises to them and not giving up.

Draken shook back his hand firmly and smiled warmly at him. This was one of the rarest times when he can put his walls down and expressed what he actually felt for the other.

“Alrighty! I’ve decided.”

Senju’s sudden cheerful voice broke the fragile moment between the two of them and Draken resisted the urge to twitch his eyes and sigh in annoyance.

What a great timing.

Takemichi pulled his hand away from Draken and turned around, seeing an offered umbrella to his direction by Senju. He casually accepted it with a bewildered expression on his face.

“An umbrella?” He blinked a few times.

“From now on… You’re my gofer!” Senju announced happily.

“Huh?” Takemichi looked taken aback, but he wasn’t sure if it’s from Senju’s words or the cheerful expression on his face. It was strange seeing the happy look and cheerful smile painted on his face since his usual default of facial expression was mostly blank and serious. But he couldn’t deny that it made his seraphic features softer and younger. And he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.

Senju looked like a beautiful, fallen angel from the sky.

Senju leaned closer with that everlasting smile still present on his face. “Let’s meet tomorrow, 3PM at Harajuku!”

Takemichi tried so hard not to blush at his proximity and the cuteness that was laid out in front of him. What’s with Senju and the other members of their gang invading his personal space?!

“Eh? Wait—”

“Senju’s interested in you, Hanagaki!” Akashi cut him off cheerily.

What. Takemichi’s line of thought came into a screeching halt.

“Just be prepared.” Akashi flashed him a smirk before he waved goodbye to him and Draken.

‘What does that mean?!’Takemichi thought frantically as he could only watched Akashi leave and Senju walking beside him with a spring to his steps.

The Next Day, 3PM Harajuku…

Takemichi tried to be punctual this time even though he wasn’t the exact model employee back at the DVD shop that he was working for back then. He simply didn’t want to shatter any good impression and standing that he currently had with Brahman now especially with their leader since Akashi said that Senju was interested in him. Which still weirded him out. Yet it brought a warm feeling spreading through his chest. And he didn’t even know the reason why he was feeling like that in the first place.

Nevertheless, he took Akashi’s words with a grain of salt and didn’t delved deeper on it further. Maybe Senju was always like that when he found something that caught his eye or when his goals are actually met. Their leader’s unpredictability still caught him off guard sometimes. It reminded him of Mikey.

At the mere thought of the blond, Takemichi’s mood went pensive for a bit before he fought it back with a resolute determination. Of course, he was firm in his decision to save him regardless of what method he had to undertake to achieve it. If he had to join the Brahman to reached that goal faster then so be it. He’s ready for any consequences that he needed to face if necessary.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Hanagaki!”

A voice cut off his wandering thoughts and the noise among the crowd that made him paused and turned around to the source of it.

Takemichi’s brain short circuited at the sight that greeted his eyes.

When Akashi mentioned to him yesterday that he should be prepared, he wasn’t expecting this kind of surprise.

“Let’s go.”

A young lady dressed in a female school uniform stated calmly and looked casually at him like everything wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But it isn’t.

This was Senju.

Dressed in female clothes.

Senju.

Who is now a she instead of a he.

Female clothes and features.

And had a nice rack.

Takemichi internally screamed at himself. Now this wasn’t the time to be thinking like that! There was a right time to admire the beauty in front of him. And now isn’t the right time to do it. Since when did Senju became a woman?! His brain felt like melting along with his common sense.

“Huh? Who?” Takemichi replied intelligently as he gaped at Senju’s transformed existence in front of him.

Senju just stared at him blankly before she raised a hand to cover her mouth and stifled her giggles. “Hanagaki you never failed to amuse me sometimes.”

“Eh? But h-how…?” Takemichi stammered.

“Did you hit your head or something Hanagaki? I told you yesterday to meet me here at 3pm right?” Senju answered playfully as she now tugged on his arm and pulled him along the bustling crowd of the city.

Takemichi let him get swept away by Senju’s hold and actions, his mind was still racing with rapid thoughts at this newfound discovery that made him have an internal midlife crisis. He wanted to ask so many things… but for now he just let her be as he was also tantalized by her rare sunny disposition and her ethereal features in front of him.

Of course, Senju knew the reason why Takemichi was being confused and having a meltdown in front of him. But she chose to blatantly ignored it and willfully play the ruthless card of feigned innocence. She was having fun of making him bewildered and flustered.

And she also found it cute and adorable anyway.

This was going to be an interesting day ahead.

(A/N: I own nothing from this franchise except this weird fic of mine. Chapter 215 watered my crops and extended my lifespan because of these things: Inupi, Draken and Takemichi being shirtless and exposing their toned bodies, Draken going feral to protect Takemichi, Takemichi’s ever growing character development and backbone, Senju acting like Mikey and growing fond of our crybaby hero and lastly the infamous gender reveal party at the last panel. Ken plays with us like a damn fiddle with that bomb at the last panel of chapter 215 in the manga. The whole fandom is shook and is now rioting with speedy theories and ideas lmao. Well from my end, it’s fine if Senju is a guy or a gal since the gender is not my measurement of an interest to a character anyway. But it’ll be intriguing if Senju turned out to be a female and a leader of a gang since we all know that it’s mostly a male dominated territory in the franchise. And we’ll probably get another girlboss like Yuzuha as a bonus. Who knows? Maybe Ken will drop us another mind-blowing twist at the next chapter so I’m still not fully onboard with Senju being a 100% gal. But for the sake of this fic and for fun purposes, let’s assume that Senju is a complete female here and she’s having the time of her life making our crybaby hero like this: Takemichi.exe has stopped working. Also, if Mikey learned about this, he’ll be feral and he would raise some hell to prevent them from stealing his dear Takemitchy. So, Mikey you need to step up your game and appear in the future chapters so Takemichi doesn’t end up with one of his harems lol. Reviews are amusing. So, let me hear them from you.)

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt 49/51/53

49. Go on, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me. / 51. Those things you said yesterday.. did you really mean them? / 53. I love you and I am terrified.

This is it, he thinks as she hastily wrings the water from her hair with a towel and a determined flick of her wrist. There’s no talking her out of it, no way he can change her mind.

 He’s seen that same calculated detachment in her eyes before, a year ago in the parking lot of another hotel, the night everything changed. She’s filing this away, never to be spoken of again, and in a few weeks, he’ll find himself wondering if any of this ever happened at all. Aaron shouldn’t be fucking surprised. Yet he finds himself standing in the middle of the hotel room that now feels too small for them both, helplessly staring at the scene playing out before him.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, not sure if he wants to hear her answer.

“Can you just … throw those clothes into my suitcase?” Emily gestures to a pile in the corner, clearly left there from her arrival only hours before. “My flight is in a few hours.”

He nods slowly. Not exactly what he meant, but of course she already knows that.

She does a once over of the room, crouching gracefully to sweep underneath the bed. When she stands again, her lacy strapless bra dangling from her fingertips. “Wonder where the other half of that is,” Emily says with a laugh he doesn’t find funny at all. “If you find them … “ she adds, glancing around with a shrug. “Keep them, I guess? A souvenir, if you will.” It’s how she smirks with the slightest bit of amusement that makes something inside of him snap.

“You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re going to disappear again. Like last time? How many times will you fucking disappear, Emily?” He takes two heavy-footed steps toward her but stops before he gets too close. He’s angry now, the sparks emitting from him in the heavy silence. She flinches, eyes flicking warily, a shaky exhale of breath falling from her lips.

“How dare you?” She hisses, her eyes holding his with a fierceness she shouldn’t have to bear. “How dare you even begin to question what I’ve done? You of all people should know.” Her anger is mixed with something else - the unmistakable shadow of remembrance, a trace of shame. “That was low.”  

“I’m sorry.” He says firmly, holding up both hands in a truce, angling his body between hers and the door. “That was out of line.”

The anger in her face dissipates, but the rest remains. “You know I can’t stay here, Aaron.” There’s a resigned sadness in her voice as she comes to stand in front of him, rising slightly on tiptoe to rest her hands on his bare shoulders. “You knew from the minute you sat down next to me last night.”

She’s right, and his chest aches at the memory he’ll now hold along with the rest of what he keeps of her in his heart. “It was worth a shot, wasn’t it?” He caresses her cheek with rough fingertips, wanting to commit the feeling of her skin to his memory too. He’ll never have enough memories of her.

“Of course it was.” Emily pecks his lips with her own, ducking away before he can close his arms around her. One foot gets tangled in her dress, unceremoniously deposited on the floor, and she nearly trips over her own two feet in the heap. “Fucking thing,” Emily mutters as she rights herself less than gracefully, ignoring it altogether. She seems so unbothered by all of this now- as if in only a few hours time she’ll be gone again, likely forever. It feels so final, a cruel joke that she was even here at all.

“What should I do with your dress?” Aaron bends down to pick it up, holding the endless folds of blue silk in helpless hands. Was it only a few hours ago he took it off of her? It already seems so much longer.

Emily shrugs on her way into the bathroom, as if she’s already forgotten. “Donate it?” It’s her way of putting walls up, shutting him out and closing doors. “I’ll probably never wear it again.”

The hum of the hair dryer in the bathroom is like a siren, a warning bell if you will. He takes a deep breath, one that catches in his throat. It’s now, he tells himself. Or never.

“I’ve always thought of what would happen if …” he begins, his words heavy in the air. “If we saw each other after all this time.” Aaron studies the luggage tag on her suitcase, running a finger over the neatly printed letters and numbers. It feels like a breach of her trust to write it down or commit to memory for safekeeping, just in case one day. It’s something he was never supposed to see in the first place. Instead he squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to forget what happened in this damn hotel room. It’s an attempt to accept that these are their final moments, as unfair as they are. “Tomorrow it’ll be like it never happened at all. Jack has a soccer game, you know,” he adds for good measure. He imagines her smiling into the mirror at the mention of his son. “I used to think I could just … call you. Beg you to come back. To me. To us. That you would, if I just …  But I was wrong. I’m sorry, Emily. For what happened. My God, I’m so sorry.”

But no apology can ever be enough to make it all go away.

Aaron picks up the pile of clothes she asked him to, presses her sweater to his nose. For a brief moment, he contemplates tucking it in his jacket and taking it with him, because it smells like her, and that scent is becoming more distant with every passing day. Tears prick behind his eyes like tiny needles. “Everyone … no one mentions you anymore. They think they shouldn’t … that it will make things worse. But god damn it, Emily, not hearing about you is what I can’t live with. I like remembering the good times.” He swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, a few tears staining his skin. “I love you.” And then he holds the damn sweater to his face again; he breathes it in one last time before tucking it into her suitcase with a breath that feels like the piercing of a knife. “I love you,” he adds once more, seconds before the numbing sound of the dryer ceases.

“Were you saying something?” Emily asks crisply, suddenly appearing from the bathroom, her hair perfectly dry and shiny, almost bouncy on her shoulders. “I couldn’t hear you over the noise. it’s … loud ... you know.” She avoids looking directly at him, yet he can see the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes.

Aaron takes a chance. “Those things you said yesterday.. did you really mean them?”

She stops in the middle of the room, twisting the belt of the fluffy robe in her hands. “I said a lot of things yesterday, Aaron,” Emily says quietly, in a tone that tells him she knows exactly what he means. “We both did.”

“So you lied to me then.”

“I didn’t lie.” Emily folds her arms over her chest with a tired sigh. “I’ve never lied to you.” They’ve been here before, she thinks. It didn’t end well then, it won’t now.

“Go on, then. Tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.”

Her spine stiffens; her hands clench into fists. “Please stop, Aaron.” A single tear rolls down her face, then another. “Please don’t … don’t do this. I can’t. Let’s just … let bygones be bygones and move on from here.” Separately, she thinks.

Never, he thinks. “Admit it,” Aaron says, closing the gap between them, wrapping his hands around her upper arms. “Or look me in the eyes and tell me the fucking truth.”

She pointedly looks away, unable to meet his gaze. “How can I possibly say it now? After … everything that happened in -”

“What happened there doesn’t matter,” Aaron assures her when she finally looks at him, calm and focused, his touch gentle and his eyes assuring. “When are you going to forgive yourself for this?”

“It matters,” she reminds him, because it never won’t matter. “It changed everything. This,” Emily looks around, searching for something she doesn’t quite find. “This isn’t where I belong anymore.”

“This is where you’ve always belonged. What happened isn’t going to change that. You’ve blamed yourself for too long.” Aaron gives her a gentle shake, just enough to know she’s listening. Her eyes are wide, fully focused on his, lower lip trembling as she blinks back tears. “I love you,” he reminds her, shifting his grip on her arms just enough that he can wrap her into his own. “Please don’t go.”

“I love you too, and I’m terrified,” she admits, perhaps the most honest she’s been all evening. “Of being here. Of not being here. No matter what choice I make, it always feels like the wrong one.”

“Me too,” he whispers back with a nervous smile, wiping the tears from her face with his thumbs. It doesn’t make much of a difference. They still fall anyway, and when he leans in to kiss her, the ones on his cheeks blend with hers. “But please … don’t go. Not like this.”

It’s a plea, and when she smooths her hand down his face, a sad smile cracking across her lips, Aaron closes his eyes and prays.

[danny-chase]

Thanks to anon for requesting On the Run with Cassandra Cain and Dick Grayson!

Read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain & Barbara Gordon Characters: Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, blockbuster arc alternative ending, POV Cassandra Cain, Cassandra Cain is Batgirl, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Cassandra Cain Is a Good Sister, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, TW: Suicide, tw: ambiguous suicide attempt, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, there are no hugs sorry, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily (DCU), Dick Grayson Whump, Cassandra Cain Whump, Hurt No Comfort Series: Part 1 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

The one where Cass runs away with Dick instead of Catalina (Catalina doesn't exist for the sake of this AU - and this is not romantic between Dick and Cass).

Full story under cut

“Cass? You here?” Light poured into her room as Barbara cracked open the door. Cass tucked her head under the blanket, yawning - it was too early to get up. “Cass, please.” The anxiety in Barbara’s voice made her reconsider – and she sprung upright, she could feel a mission coming on, and Cass didn’t pass up missions.

 “What’s up?” She asked, striding over to her closet, pulling out her Batgirl suit.

 “It’s Dick, I’m worried… He left in a rush yesterday morning.” Barbara’s hands were shaking – that meant it was serious. “Cass I was watching the news… I… God…he…”

 She pulled on her costume in record time. Dick was nice, he made Barbara happy. Made her happy too. Brought over cookies and told funny stories, he made the apartment feel… warm. He was a friend… no… family, they were family.

 She glanced back at Barbara, pulling the door wider, she looked pale, about to cry. She shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to help. “What’s up?” She demanded, stepping around the wheelchair. She grabbed the handles, and quickly steered them both towards the mission room.

 Barbara wiped her eyes as she reached the computer, pulling up a video clip. Cass recognized the apartment building; she’d been there a few times after joint missions. That was Dick’s-

 Oh.

 Fire rained down on the screen, the building reduced to rubble.

 Barbara sobbed next to her. “I don’t know if he was there… I don’t even know if… Cass… He… What if…?” Cass tentatively patted her shoulder, uneasiness filling her stomach. “He hasn’t called… his trackers are either off or…”

 “I’ll find him.” She promised. That was her mission. Find Nightwing, bring him home, then Barbara wouldn’t cry. She didn’t like when Barbara cried, it made her want to cry too.

 She dove out the window, swinging through the sky, down to where she kept her bike. Gunning the engine, she flew through the streets, Blüdhaven was an hour away – but she could make it in half the time. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, she tried to settle in for a long ride.

   It wasn’t hard to pick up the trail – she followed the flashing red and blue lights to scenes of carnage, masked men beaten and discarded in Nightwing’s wake. The whole day, she snuck around, carefully out of sight, watching as ambulances carted away people, describing them to Barbara and learning their names.

 “This… isn’t working.” She complained, her legs swinging off the side of a roof. “I don’t understand.”

 “He’s not taking a predictable path.” Barbara noted. “We’ll find him, we’ll just have to be patient.” She sounded much more confident than this morning. Cass sighed, leaning back to stare at the clouds. Why was Dick running around in circles? She reached up as raindrops began pattering down, feeling them seep through the suit. She let her hand fall across her face. Something felt off – wrong.

 The injuries Nightwing left behind were violent – he was violent, but not this much. Too much force. “This isn’t right.” She muttered, reaching her head behind her head. Dick wasn’t someone that lost control – that much she had learned.

 Cass sucked in a breath. It bothered her. Something bad was happening. “He’s hurting people.” She tried to explain. “Bad.” Breaking bones that would never heal right, being careless in his aim. “He doesn’t do that…” Normally, but it’s happened before. It’s happened when… “They’re threatening his family.”

 That felt right. Despite what the others thought, Cass wasn’t dumb – she was a detective too. And this was her case.

 “We’ll have to assume it’s connected.” Barbara mumbled. “Haley’s circus was attacked by Firefly a few days ago.”

 “Huh?” What did some circus have to do with-

 “It’s where he grew up.” Barbara explained. “You’re right, I suspected… we need to find him, someone might have figured out his identity.” She paused a moment. “Keep trying to track him down, I need to call Batman.” The line cut off.

Cass frowned, she figured something out… but it hadn’t been good. She briefly wondered if she’d caused more trouble by bringing it up. Hopefully, it would make sense when-

 Light flooded the sky, lightning cracking, and moments later a symbol arose, shining against the clouds and illuminating the area. Another clue. She swung off the roof, careening towards the source of their troubles.

   Nightwing was leaving as she arrived, tearing through the city skyline. As it poured, she did her best, following in his tracks, though not quite able to catch up. He was angry, she could see it even from far away. She was at a disadvantage; he knew the territory – knew the destination, and she frustratedly sighed as he slipped into a building a few blocks ahead.

 She leapt off a balcony – about to enter where Nightwing had, when a flicker of movement caught her eye a few windows away.

 “NO!” She screamed – too late, glass shattered as a bullet ripped through the night, thudding as it found a mark. An enormous man barged through the broken windows. Cass scrambled to follow, scurrying across the ledges. She could hear voices arguing in the room – Nightwing and the man, the sounds of smashing, they got farther away as she got closer.

 She burst into an empty hotel room, leaping over the woman’s dead body, and running past a destroyed wall to the end of a hallway.

 “Do you like being alone, Dick?” The large man caught sight of her, throwing Nightwing against the wall as he charged. Cass readied herself, rolling under his legs as he passed.

 “Batgirl?” Dick mumbled, running after the man. “Get out of here!” He shouted, leaping into a flying kick, and connecting with the man’s head.

 “I’ll make sure you can’t save any of them.” He punched the man again. “I’ll make sure you relive over and over, your failure to save my mother.” The man elbowed Nightwing out of the way, diving for her again. She jumped this time, using his head as a springboard. He grabbed for her ankle, but she slipped out of his reach, pulling out batarangs and throwing them as she twisted in the air. Each hit their mark, sinking into both his shoulders.

 The man didn’t seem bothered, simply turning to chase her again. “It’ll never stop.” Nightwing slide tackled his ankles, and the man fell, his hands grabbing at her feet. Cass danced closer to his head. “Every loved one, every stranger, I’ll kill-urk” She struck a nerve in his jaw, kicking it a second time for good measure as the man fell unconscious.

 “Call the police?” She asked, reaching up to her comm, glancing towards Nightwing. She froze in place. He was running towards her – reaching, about to hit, no he was –

 She dodged reflexively as he tried to swipe her comm. “We can’t.” He was shaking – tired, exhausted, pained, scared(?) – Cass recoiled, that wasn’t how Nightwing normally was. “Give it! We can’t call anyone! You need to run, he saw you!”

 “I’m not scared.” She stated, standing her ground – she was strong, she wouldn’t be killed so easily.

 “You should be!” He was – what did Barbara say? Upset… no - hysterical. Panic laced his voice. “He’s not kidding, he has people – he’ll kill people just for talking to me, I’m talking to you – if he hears us talking to-” Cass handed over the comm as he frantically grasped for it again. He threw it to the floor crushing it under his boot.

 “We have to go… I-I… I don’t know what to do.” He paced back and forth, muttering to himself. “I-I can’t talk to people, I need to be alone… but he saw Batgirl, she’s not safe…” He stopped, looking directly at her. He swayed on the spot, she felt uneasy – he didn’t look well. “You’re coming with me.” He demanded, grabbing her hand, and she let him lead them out through the fire escape.

 She didn’t understand, she had never seen him so… frightened. They didn’t need to run, Barbara would send the police – the man couldn’t hurt anyone, they’d won. “I don’t-”

 “He has power.” His breathing was ragged and pained. She cringed, he needed help – not to run. “He won’t stay in jail… He has people everywhere – there’s cameras they see everything. He-he…” They dropped into an alley. “It won’t stop.” The hand in hers was trembling.

 “I can-” He stopped in his tracks.

 “NO! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” He bellowed, angrily snapping at her. “YOU’RE NOT SAFE – NO ONE’S SAFE UNTIL I’M GONE.”

 Dick’s body was a wave of emotions, and she was being swept along with the current. “I’m strong! You’re being a coward!” She yelled back – but she already knew she wouldn’t change his mind.

 “Maybe I am.” He deflated and began running again. “But everyone’s safer this way.”

 She was at a loss for what to do, so she kept running. She couldn’t leave him alone; she couldn’t go back and explain to Barbara. She regretted letting him smash her comm. And so, she followed, and they weaved in and out of street after street, rain soaking through her costume, chilling her to the bone.

   While they ran, Cass had formulated a new strategy – wait until Nightwing lowered his guard, then nerve strike him, and bring him back to Gotham. A struggle would be too risky – he was acting erratic, someone (him) might get hurt if she tried too soon. So, sitting atop a train, watching as hills rolled over the horizon trying her best to be patient.

 The wind whipped in her face, the rumbling of the train drowning out all other noises. Nightwing paced beside her, obsessively turning from side to side, trying to keep all directions in his line of sight. He was getting too close to the edge.

 His movement wasn’t correct – Dick’s gait was normally smooth, intentional. Now, he dragged his steps, the normal grace gone. He kept tripping over his own feet.

 She couldn’t understand how one man could have such an effect; he was still shaking in anger and fear. They’d defeated the enemy, she’d won, right? Cass never really thought much about what comes after that – but Nightwing seemed convinced the battle wasn’t over.

 Dick was staring over the edge of the car. Cass was moving before she realized what was happening. She grabbed a fistful of his costume as he leaned forward, pulling him back.

 “Don’t.” She couldn’t tell if it was accidental or intentional – but she didn’t wait to see if he’d pull back on his own. Nobody would die tonight. Maybe she’d have to speed up her plan.

 He remained silent and stepped away from the edge. They slowly fell back into their routine – Nightwing pacing as she kept a watchful eye. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she watched him make his careful pattern – now staying three feet from the edges.

 Cass sighed. She was tired of running – she could protect herself; this was pointless. She wasn’t sure how long they’d wasted like this – the sun had been rising when they got on the train and now it was starting to set again. She was hungry, thirsty, and hadn’t slept in two days.

 She kept waiting for Dick to crash, but he never even sat down. He couldn’t stay like this forever - she was pretty sure he was injured based off his movement, he had to rest soon.

 “Sleep.” She demanded (as she had maybe an hour ago). He shook his head, going back to his pacing. Cass groaned, lying back to look at the sky, though keeping him in her field of vision. Stars were starting to peak out, though clouds were blocking some of them. She bit her lip; she was never good at helping people like this.

 Her stomach growled loudly, and she looked at him pointedly. “We’ll get food when we get off.” He replied in a monotone voice.

 She blinked sleep out of her eyes, digging her nails into the palms of her hands, and sitting back up. Nightwing could not be left unsupervised – that much was clear. And so, she resigned herself to watching pacing once more.

   The sun was high in the sky when the train finally began rolling to a stop. She followed Nightwing as he leapt off the car and began running after him towards the tree line. He made it about ten paces before collapsing. Cass rushed forward, as he began pushing himself up.

 She struck his jaw without warning, and he crumpled to the ground. Finally, she sighed in relief, things were easier this way. Crouching down, she hiked him into a fireman’s carry, and then looked around.

 She was in the middle of nowhere. Cows grazed off to the right, and there was an open field to her left. Straight ahead, the land eventually reached a forest. A small train station sat maybe a mile away.

 It would take a day to get back to Blüdhaven, but she was hungry and tired, and had no idea where she was. The train still rolled along behind her. So, she decided to walk alongside it – towards the lonely little station, away from home.

 Nightwing was heavy. She was strong, but he was… heavy. And she was tired.

 Every step was painful, it wasn’t long before she was drenched in sweat. She could see the station in the distance, slowly getting closer. She could make it… She could push through this – she’d pushed through worse.

 She focused on her breath, staring at the ground as she took step after step.

 “Lose some weight.” She muttered to the side of Dick’s head. She cursed herself for not packing more water and snacks – she’d run out while tracking him yesterday.

 She refused to stop, pushing past the pain of burning muscles, her suit unbearably hot in the afternoon sun. Gritting her teeth, she powered on.

 She wanted to scream with furry, at the man who’d hurt her brother – who’d left him so worn out and totally beaten despite losing the fight. She wanted to scream because she didn’t understand – why was this happening to them? They were strong – their family was strong – they shouldn’t have to live like this. Cassandra Cain did not run from fights, neither did Dick Grayson, and yet here they were.

 She grunted, shifting Dick’s weight on her shoulders. Cass didn’t like thinking about these things. She liked when things were easy – when she beat the bad guy, and things were over. Though, with every mission, she was starting to realize things weren’t always that simple…

 She thought of the man she’d rescued, who’d died on a train like the one beside her, because he’d wanted to say goodbye to his mom. Of the girl who’d she’d rescued from her father, yet she’d condemned to a different kind of hell living with her mother. Of the boy who wanted his father to come home safely, despite the man being a ruthless killer.

 And finally of the man who’d defeated Nightwing, his words dealing more damage than his massive fists.

 This world was so confusing – sometimes she missed the days before the words clouded her mind, muddling her in the mists of gray that transformed what she’d seen before in black and white. Was she better for living in that gray? For knowing it was there? Sometimes, it was hard to tell.

 She stumbled on uneven ground and soon she was falling, Dick sliding off her shoulders. She hit the ground face first and tasted blood. She let out the pent-up yell, frustratedly pounding the ground. This sucked. Everything sucked. Why couldn’t things just be easy for them?!

 Dragging herself to her feet, she ignored the pain wracking her exhausted body as she lifted the broken vigilante once more. She took slower steps, but certain ones, and inched closer and closer towards somewhere she hoped would be better.

[good-rwbyaus]

Au where Whitley has actually been running the bank accounts since he was young and keeping the group financially viable

#Rising Snow AU - mod lilac - [ next ]

1. Beginning

It started when his father, smelling like expensive liquors and overbearing perfume, shoved a packet of folders at him and stated “You deal with it. Your father has a hang- headache” before staggering off back to his bedroom to sleep off yesterday’s social gathering.  

He was ecstatic. His father began to trust him to handle things in the company. Before he was a mere fixture in the company, only present to speak pleasantries and let others know that Jacques Schnee had a well-bred son. But now he had responsibilities and power.  

Whitley Schnee, soon-to-be-heir of the Schnee Dust Company since Weiss didn’t seem to care about it and Willow just left to join Atlas, will show everyone his worth, starting with.... a whole lot of complaints about their customer service.

_______________________________________

2. Complaints

“This motor is covered under warranty. I still have the original receipt. You have to take it back.”

“Sorry, but the warranty only covers usage in automobiles. You said you tried installing it in a motorcycle, so your warranty is void.”

“...A motorcycle is an automobile, sir.”

“Look smartass, you’re getting on my nerves. You’re not going to get a refund from the Schnee Dust Company, got it?”

“Excuse me!? I want to talk to your manager. Now.”

“I am the manager. Now stop wasting my time.”

“Wh-” 

Click.

Whitley’s eyebrows creased sharply as he closed the Scroll. He took slow deep breaths trying to get rid of the anger trembling through his body. A Schnee is like ice. They do not show their rage unless they can leverage it for their purposes. His teeth gritted once more and relaxed.

Those two-faced bastards. He knew the customer service staff were no good when they started fawning over him, telling him that “of course they got complaints when they couldn’t fulfill their requests” or “we got everything under control.” 

In reality, they were all just disgusting liars who couldn’t do their job. If he hadn’t been suspicious of them, they might’ve gotten away with it. Those people had to be removed before they truly caused an incident; he cannot let such unsightly things remain. 

He picked up the phone.

________________________________________

3. Fired.

“You can’t do this to us! This is going against our contract.”

“Just because you’re your father’s son doesn’t mean you have any power here.”

“You’re going to speak to my lawyer about unfair dismissal, kid!”

It’s funny. The half-dozen or so people who were fawning over him just hours earlier were now cursing and shaming him. Of course they were angry. He just told them they were all fired a couple minutes ago and stopped saying anything when they started yelling like a mob. His lips trembled, trying to stop himself from smiling. 

Gods. He was so angry that he’s finding humor in it. Do they really think they have power here?

Bang. 

A bald-headed tall man - the manager he spoke to last - slammed his hands onto his desk, looming over him as if to intimidate him with the threat of physical violence. The noise made him flinch slightly, breaking his facade of calm and causing the other guy to smirk mockingly at him. 

Bastard.

This farce has gone on long enough.

“Okay. You can keep your jobs...”

Immediately, the six people leered triumphantly with the one at the head of the pack messing his desk up proudly stood up. 

“Good kid, see you know when you’re in the wrong.”

“Yeah, smart like your father,” said the man at his desk about to pat him on the head. Immediately, he swatted the man’s hand away.

“...as I gather the audio logs for our lawyers to peruse and determine how much damage you’ve done to the company’s image.”

That silenced the room better than a dead body being found in it. 

“If you didn’t do anything wrong, you’ll have my apologies and a bonus for your troubles. But if you’ve damaged our image... well, a company’s face is priceless - but I can definitely try to get back some recompense.” 

He lifted a finger which everyone else in the room followed.

“That’s your first option. The other option is to resign quietly, and I will not pursue this in the future. You can take the time to think about it. 

“You can-”

“You’re all dismissed. If you linger around a second longer,” he glared at the group, “I’m going to assume you’re taking the first option and want to be escorted out.” 

Immediately, upon realizing who had the actual power in the room, the group of six began to scramble out of the room, but just as the bald-headed manager exited out the door, Whitley spoke up. The words caused the man to stiffen up.

“Except you. You don’t get an option, manager. You're fired. Wait to hear from my lawyers.” 

He steepled his fingers together, a vicious satisfied smile on his lips. 

________________________________________

4. Security Card

...Okay. That was scary. He honestly thought that baldy was going to hit him at the very end. In the future, he was going to have a bodyguard in the room or Klein just in case. He loosened his vest slightly, the cloth sticking to his back from the cold sweat.

It was weird though. Why did something like customer service go all the way up to the level of the President?

Wasn’t that something for managers or department heads to solve?

“Maybe it’s just a test from father,” Whitley spoke out loud. He shook his head.

Yeah, that was probably it. 

----

Little did he know that his carelessly stated statement was caught by a hidden camera in his room.

---- 

The next day he found a folder on his desk and a white card with the label of 00 on it. 

________________________________________

5. Assignment

“Hey, Klein,” Whitley asked cautiously as the loyal man handed him a glass of water, “Did father come into my room yesterday?” 

He didn’t know what to make of the butler at times or how to treat him. Father said never to treat the help too kindly or they’ll take advantage of it, but Klein was someone he knew since he was born. He’s never seen him be anything but loyal and attentive. He wasn’t like the people he just dealt with.

Maybe he would’ve just dismissed him as just the help, but after having seen a very recent example of two-faced people, he couldn’t quite agree with his father’s assessment of Klein.

“Your father has gone on va-,” the man paused upon seeing the contents on the desk, particularly the white card on his desk. “That card?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a card like this before,” Whitley replied, “What does it actually do?”

Klein stared at the card quietly before saying, “Only the Master of the House could’ve given you that card. It will open every lock and file in the Schnee Dust Company. It means the Master has given you authority second to them.”

“Father must really trust me after I got results, right?” he proudly stated as he started shuffling through the documents. In doing so, he missed Klein’s smile, both proud and pained at the same time. 

The cursory review made his self-praising words die in his throat.

“Wait...He wants me to solve all these?!” Whitley yelled. It wasn’t that the entire packet consisted of a single problem. The entire seventy-two page packet was a large list of overdue problems and documents that required his attention. 

“Where’s father?”

“He’s currently on vacation. He won’t be here for a month.”

“Didn’t he just go on vacation two weeks ago? There should be someone to substitute while he’s gone?” 

“...No, sir. This is how it always has been.”

“Haha. You’re joking. Or is this part of the test, Klein?” He laughed but it soon died on his throat, seeing the man’s grim face. 

 “I will not lie to you, young master.” Klein remarked before adding with a nudge of his head, “There’s a note.”

He’s right. There was. The script was in cursive; it would’ve been elegant and soft if it weren’t for the shakiness in it. 

‘You have the right idea. Sometimes problems need to find the right people.’

________________________________________

6. Delegation

This was stupid. The purchasing of toilet paper or whether it had to be 2-ply or 3-ply or setting the price of bubble-gum at the employee store did not need to pass through the president’s desk.

Hell. It’s like anything that involved the tiniest amount of money or required the slightest authority needed to make its way to his desk. 

This was not a functional solution. He’ll die of exhaustion by the end of the week if that continued.

And the answers from the department heads were incredibly unhelpful.

‘It has always been this way.’

But it hasn’t. Looking through the records only he could access, everything changed when his father inherited the company from his grandfather. His father first fired anyone that disagreed with him and then diverted anything that looked like it involved money up to the very top. Maybe it was important back then, but those measures certainly didn’t need to be used now. 

His father ruled with an iron fist when it came to the company. No one dared to challenge his authority now. 

His father was smart. Intelligent. These actions didn’t match that. Was this just another one of his tests? He wanted to believe that, but...

‘The only person you can trust is yourself. Everyone else can betray you. Even family. Only trust others if you have power over them, that is trust.’

...It did match what his father would do. And if there was nothing else he learned from all those official dinners and parties, he knew how to read people, especially his father and his mercurial temper. 

With how many of these documents have been untouched and unread, what exactly is his father doing? 

Come to think of it. When was the last time his father sat in front of a computer instead of going on vacation or to one of his many dinners with his business associates?

He shook his head. Impossible. His father definitely worked hard. How else would this company be standing if he was that neglectful? Maybe these files were just like the 5% of untouched work since he had so much wor-

His screen flickered as he clicked on another file. The pillar of red pointing downwards made him pale. 

[ next ]

[electricbluebutterflies]

Could you do an 'I didn't know I was pregnant prompt' where somehow Abby, who's a doctor and won't ever live it down, doesn't realize that she's pregnant until she's in labor. Possibly with it being conveniently when she's alone bar delinquents, and someone has to go track down Kane and inform him of what's going on.

Canon-divergent from early s3 ish. Also featuring Raven being awesome and Clarke trying not to have a breakdown, so hopefully I wrote those two darlings okay. Content warning for vague / non-graphic and questionably medically accurate descriptions of childbirth. PG13ish for that and also swear words. Also on ao3.

The thing about quiet is it doesn’t last. She should’ve knownbetter.

It’s been a year, maybe a little more than that. Time flowsdifferently here, but one of the kids – and Abby knows they are not that anymore,most of them are so much more capable than her, but in her mind they are stillso small – is pretty sure they saw a snowflake yesterday. So, bit more than ayear. And about a year since she broke down and let herself be reckless and…

All of this hits her in the worst way as she realizes whather body is doing. This pain is not cramps, but she can’t blame herself forgetting confused, it’s been a while since she’s had her normal cycle and-

Yeah. This is what she gets for ignoring her own body aswell as she does. Dammit.

The worst part is, Abby thinks as she paces across herworkspace because so help her she is not letting this nor anything else stopher, she justified everything. Her last implant had expired shortly after shewas widowed, and she’d passed on getting another one because she was on theedge of forty and had zero plans to ever let anyone else touch her and she didn’twant to waste resources like that, and she’d just… forgotten about that detaila year and a half later when she’d gone and taken a new lover anyways. With orwithout the implant, her cycles were always erratic and she stopped trying topredict that ages ago. Nausea got justified when she wasn’t the only person whoate bad meat (turns out mutant might’ve-descended-from-a-raccoon needs to be cookedlonger than that attempt was); a little weight gain because she iseating more, because that’s a possibility now. Said weight pooling in herabdomen is normal enough for a woman her age, right?

She justified everything, she was wrong, and now she is-

Fuck.

Okay, so right now pants are a mistake. They’re soakedthrough anyways, and somehow the idea of someone wandering in and seeing hernaked from the hips down is one of the less embarrassing details of this wholedisaster. Normal people have seven or eight months to process imminent parenthoodbefore it comes. She won’t even have that many hours. Supposedly births getquicker the more a person has had, and given her track record there…

Another wave of pain hits and she grabs the edge of the tablefor support. At least she’s having this crisis – she is trying to use everyword for it but what it is, and she will go through the guilt spiral later – inmedical. Ideal place for this nightmare. If she has to give birth on herown, as is looking more and more likely, at least she is doing so in a safeplace. That’s about the only thing going right here.

There is, after all, the small issue of her partner havingno damn clue about any of this.

Last she checked – and she tries not to hover, she is notthat kind of woman and their more recent trust in each other has eliminatedsome of her tendencies – Marcus is out on a hunting / scavenging daytrip. Whichmeans he may or may not be back before this is over. Either way, explaining howshe managed to be oblivious for close to nine months about something so significantis not going to be a good time and she is more than a little nervous about thatand-

Abby hears the door open behind her. Great. Now thenightmare is complete.

“Are you…” Raven, thank goodness, at least the intruder issomeone who occasionally has common sense. “Screw that, you’re not okay.”

“How willing are you to believe things right now?” Abbyasks, turning her head to look at her friend. Group bonding across generationsis rough, but she sees a different kind of potential in the younger woman thanmost people do. Like this one, if she doesn’t accidentally kill herself beforeshe turns thirty, has some serious untapped leadership potential. And moreimportantly right now, Raven is extremely well-connected and has a highertolerance for crazy than most people. So, again, ideal person.

“From you, pretty cooperative,” Raven shrugs. “What happenedslash who do I need to electrocute?”

“I somehow managed to ignore being pregnant and… it’scoming.” And saying it out loud sounds even more damning than realizing it herselfhalf an hour ago, dragging another person into this mess with her and puttingthat weight on someone who doesn’t need it. “Feel free to judge me.”

“Nah. Not sure what you need me to do but…”

“Get someone. Anyone. Nothing against you as a person but Ido not trust you to-“

Another contraction hits before Abby can sufficientlyexplain why she’d rather not have someone who interacts with technology betterthan people as her backup here. Great. If she factors in the number of timesthis has happened that she really did think were cramps, and how long it’s beensince closing her legs felt like a good idea… shit. Yeah no. There will be noexplaining this to her partner before it’s too late.

“What I’m hearing is radio your idiot and tell him to gethis ass back here as soon as humanly possible but do not tell him whybecause that’ll break him, grab the first person I can find who I’d trust tocatch something and send them in here to help you, and go through the storageroom and hope there’s still baby clothes in that one box I found some in lastmonth. Anything I’m missing?”

If Abby were more mobile, and/or felt less like her body wasabout to explode, she would hug Raven right now. “Yes. I… yes. Thank you.”

“And try to keep this on a need-to-know basis. Far as anyoneelse is concerned, you figured out you were incubating at a normal enough timebut you decided to keep quiet about it because you hate attention. That work?”

“I’m not sure that’s going to be believable when-“

“It’s believable if you’re a couple weeks before your duedate and you can pass that particular dramatic shitshow off as being more aboutthe timing.”

“I’m not sure if you’re an angel or an evil genius.”

“I’d like to think I’m both,” Raven laughs. “Now, if youthink you have enough time here for me to do that, I’m gonna go.”

Abby assesses herself quickly. Unless something somehow goeseven more wrong, she’s got at least half an hour here. “I’ll be alright.”

And again she is alone, she thinks as the door closes behindher. This is… not an absolute worst-case scenario, but pretty damn close. At best,she’s got a lot of explaining to do when it’s all over. At worst…

Describing this as an accident is a serious understatement. Therehas been no conversation about whether or not to have kids together. It neverseemed necessary. They’re older enough that the risk seemed so low, and therearen’t restrictions on that here, and she didn’t think…

She didn’t think. That’s what this all comes down to. A temporaryvacation from her normal instincts and look what that got her. No time tomentally prepare for a tiny vulnerable creature, no time to think about theimplications for her relationship, no time to even find out if her partnerwants this enough to stick around for it, no time to-

Getting closer. She is not attempting to measure herself butshe can feel the process. Timing-wise, she probably is a few weeks earlyhere, in that comfortable space where that won’t mean any problems for thelittle creature and a normal person’s biggest concern would be not being quitedone with their preparations. Whereas she has done no preparations, whatlittle of her fate isn’t in her own hands right now has been entrusted to atwenty-one-year-old who has even less of a baseline for this, and-

It’s all too much, and Abby starts crying. Most confusedemotional release she’s ever had, not sure if it’s stress or fear or pain oranticipation or probably all of those at once. Overload enough that the nextcontraction feels muted by comparison, overload enough to overlook how uncomfortablethis all is.

It’s just a little ironic that this started bent over atable and it may well end that way too, at the rate she’s going. That’ll be funny,in a couple months when any of this can be, maybe.

She hears the door open again and this time multiplefootsteps, this time she is too exhausted to even turn her head, this time-

“Mom? What the hell?”

Limited options, Abby reminds herself. Limited options ofpeople she would trust to be her backup here, and her own – possibly soon to beolder? – daughter is one of them.

“Clarke, I can-“

“Raven filled me in,” Clarke mutters, sounding so familiarlydisapproving. Abby’s always thought her daughter takes much more after her latehusband, but sometimes there are familiar flickers in there. “You basicallyneed me to catch it.”

“Basically, yes. There should be some towels in-“

“I know where things are. Learned my organization systemfrom you.”

“And I can grab stuff,” Raven adds. That would be the secondset of feet, the bright-red jacket Abby can see in her peripheral vision. “Iwould rather not see the nightmare fuel here but I can hold things or whatever.”

“Any luck with-“

Abby swears she can somehow hear Raven roll her eyes. “Wrongperson picked up, but we tried. The group at least knows something is goingdown here and hopefully I yelled enough to-“

The next pain is strong enough to blur Abby’s vision. “Nextone is it.” She’s amazed she can even talk clearly right now, but her presenceis not going away just because she’s in a crisis. She’s gotten through worse. Rarelybeen on this end of it, rarely felt so helpless, but she will not let anythingstop her. “Be ready.”

Around her, the girls attempt as much prep as they can. Abbydoes not know what they’re doing, does not think about it. There is only this. Thereis her, and the little creature that is about to exit her body, and her olderchild who is surprisingly calm about all of this, and another member of theirfamily who is at least trying to do the same, and a black hole where herpartner should be and-

She screams.

She lets it be a blur. She does not want to remember thesefew moments.

She knows one of the girls is hovering under her with alarge towel in hand, and the other one is yelling, and she doesn’t know whichis which and she doesn’t care. She knows that this is at least a familiar pain,and the first part is the worst, and the little creature – now officially hersecond child, she will let herself process that later – is slick andcooperative and how the child of two such stubborn people is so easy to dealwith in its first moments she does not know but-

“I have a little sister,” Clarke says somewhere in thebackground.

Abby wants to collapse. Wants to sleep for a very long time.She focuses on her body, on all the things she knows. There is still pain, waitingfor the afterbirth to come out. She suspects she’s torn but not as badly as itcould’ve been, and her breasts ache and at some point soon that too will beuseful, and-

She fades out. Exhaustion is a wonderful thing. She knowsher body will do what it needs to, and she trusts the girls enough, and… shecan’t do this anymore.

When she wakes up, she’s somehow been moved to the cot –which means someone else has seen her questionable condition, great, just whatshe doesn’t need – and she’s in a clean shirt and someone has placed cold clothbetween her legs to help the hurting and-

“You really didn’t know?”

She’s not awake enough for this shit.

Abby turns her head and yep, there is her partner (but howmuch longer can she call him that, she wonders) in a chair someone must’vebrought in, looking at her like he does not know where to start but he has alot of questions. It’s been a while since she’s had to interpret that look, andshe is concerned.

“I didn’t know,” she repeats. “You’ve known me since we werechildren, you know I can justify anything, I thought-“

“Alright.” And now for the scary-calm. That particularversion has evolved over the past year and a half or so, as Marcus has learned howto be more of a person, but she still knows it too well. He’s harder to readthis way, and more dangerous to those around him. “When I found out… I thought…”

“Do you really think I would’ve hidden this from you if I’dknown?”

“I had to ask.”

“I wouldn’t… I just went through hell,” she hisses. “Involuntarily.Again. And I wouldn’t have had to if I’d paid more attention to myself but youknow I don’t-“

“I believe you.”

She’s not sure she believes him right now, but she isstill too exhausted to move so that fight can wait a day or two. “Where is…” Shedoesn’t know the right word. My daughter? Ours? Which of those will hold longer?

“Raven’s looking after her. You needed to rest, and… I canlook after you here, Raven can keep the baby in her workshop except when sheneeds to feed.”

Abby rolls her eyes. Yeah, keep a newborn in the mostdangerous place in the settlement, great idea. On the other hand, Raven’sspace is at least warm. “And you’re…”

“Still processing,” Marcus finishes. “Someone tried to radious but we were a few miles out, and when we got back I didn’t have time tothink before someone shoved what looked like a bundle of towels in my arms and…”

“It is yours. If that was going to be your next question.”

“It wasn’t. But good to know.”

“I just… I ignored everything, and I…”

He reaches out for her hand, and even that feels like toomuch physical contact right now but it’s a nice gesture anyways. “I’m notblaming you.”

“Well that’s new,” she mutters. He’s been decent for a year,she should have more faith, but… “Are you going to stay?”

And now for the look of stunned horror, the wide eyes and haltedbreaths and for a moment she’s broken him. “Am I… how is that a question?!”

“You are aware how many bad choices I’ve made here…”

“You’ve always been a little impulsive,” he counters. “And stubborn.And usually right. And I don’t know why you think this kind of innocent mistakewould push me away.”

“It’s a screaming liability of a mistake?”

“It’s ours. And I want… if you want…”

“Yeah. You’ve never done this before. You do not realize thehell you’ve just volunteered for.”

“I’m with you. How bad could it be.”

He leans down and kisses her forehead, and the scratch ofhis beard is way too much, and… yeah. They’ll be okay.

[benkouji726]

Four times they were THAT COUPLE and one time they were REALLY THAT COUPLE

I was writing the last two chapters of my Forlex 5+1 fic when the angst in chapter 5 got to me hard I had to stop and go write some stupidly fluffy stuff. So here it is, some Malex fluff because I only know how to write these two as helplessly in love idiots.

Summary: Four times Alex and Michael show their epic love without even trying to and one time they are obvious about it.

1. Maria and Isobel

Maria wanted to look away, she really did. It was a little bit weird to stare at your ex-boyfriend and your best friend who had finally pulled their heads out of their asses and were currently dating. But she just couldn’t.

To be fair, they didn’t even do much. Alex was saying something, and judging by the serious look on his face and the notes he was showing Guerin, it was not anything casual or flirty, but all business. Guerin appeared to listen earnestly too, he nodded now and then, sometimes interrupted Alex to ask a question or two. In short, they were just having a serious conversation, Maria should know, they were never intentionally being affectionate when she was present, no matter how many times she told them she was totally over Guerin by this point.

So they really didn’t do anything. But the atmosphere around them, somehow exuded intimacy and love, when they looked at each other, even the air seemed thicker. She didn’t know how they did it, and more importantly, how the hell had she missed it before.

Then Alex said something, worry written all over his face. Guerin reached out, closed the notebook in Alex’s hand, and laid his hand there. His pinkie touched Alex’s for about 3 seconds, and Alex visibly relaxed a fraction. Then Guerin pulled back his hand, and they continued to discuss whatever they were talking about, as if nothing happened.

“Ugh, they’re the worst, aren’t they.” Isobel appeared out of nowhere and looked at the couple too, “why do they have to be so in love all the time? It’s inconsiderate to the single ones, not to mention gross.”

Maria was never this grateful for Isobel in her whole life. “So it is not just me, right? I’m not some ex-girlfriend who gets uncomfortable watching her ex and her best friend make heart eyes towards each other?”

Isobel tsked. “Please, the way they look at each other, is SO MUCH MORE than just heart eyes, they could burn the whole place down with only their gaze, it’s nauseating.”

She then stood up, “I can’t watch anymore. I need to break them out of their loving bubble or I’m gonna throw up.”

But she smiled fondly when she walked over.

——————————————

2. Liz and Max

They were having a double-date-turned-movie-night when Liz said, exasperatedly, “Could you please tune it down a notch?”

Michael seemed confused as if he didn’t have a clue why Liz would say such thing to him. “What? You have the remote, you tune it down.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “No, I mean, could you stop being so...” she was lost for words for a moment.

“She meant would you tune down the PDA a notch.” Max, like the knight in a shining armor that he was. came to the rescue.

Michael looked down, to the one foot room between him and Alex on the sofa, and their not-at-all touching bodies, exchanged a question look with Alex, and said, “Last I checked, PDA still means public display of affections, right?”

“And you are practically sitting on Max’s lap.” Alex added.

Liz threw her hands in the air. “We’re doing normal couple stuff! What you two are doing, it’s next level of affection display, OK?”

She pointed an accusing finger to Michael. “Do you even know what we’re watching? Or have you counted all of Alex’s eyelashes at this point?”

To his credit, Michael didn’t even blink. “I was amazed by his eye color because it changed every time the screen light changed, but go on.”

“It’s called reflection you idiot.” Liz was exasperated, “and you did this lip tweak thing every five minutes or so, what was that about? You were like, this close to bursting but still trying to hold it in. It was very distracting.”

There was a little blush this time. “That’s not my fault. Alex has some weird sense of humor, he always laughs at the totally not laughable moments, and I find it cute, so sue me.”

Alex was offended at that. “Well, I find YOU funny, don’t I?”

Michael instantly forgot the existence of Liz and Max, and turned to Alex. “Didn’t say it was bad sense of humor, just weird. And weird can be good, you know. It can be fantastic.”

They looked at each other then, both smiling, until they looked away, Alex’s ears turned a little red, Michael cleared his throat, they didn’t seem to move, but somehow they ended up sitting a bit closer.

Liz sighed. “That’s a no on tuning it down, then.”

————————————

3. Kyle

Kyle had enough.

He was happy for Alex. The guy deserved to be happy, even if his happiness lied on some angry cowboy who disliked him for no reason.

OK there had been a reason, but he proved himself, over and over again, that he was a new man now, even Alex had forgiven him, so Guerin’s dislike was getting a little ridiculous at this point. They couldn’t even have a peaceful conversation without Guerin’s snarky comments, it was tiresome to say the least.

Like now, they were researching the files of Project Shepard together, Alex was showing him some pattern of codes and asked him if he remembered anything from his Dad that could give a keyword to solve the pattern, when Guerin suddenly put a hand around Alex’s shoulder. He didn’t do anything else though, just hand on his shoulder, hips touching, and stood there.

But somehow his demeanor screamed “back off, he’s mine.”

Kyle was a little shocked to be honest. He never saw Guerin like this, and he also didn’t know what he’d done to cause this kind of behavior. He felt like an intruder for standing next to such a blatant display of love and possessiveness.

Then Alex turned a little to Guerin, put his hand into his curls, and pulled, just a fraction, which lasted only a second. When he took back his hand, Guerin took his hand off his shoulder too. His face a shade of pink, his eyes glowing with love and trust. They stood side by side, hips no longer touching.

If anything, Kyle felt even more like an intruder after that.

———————————

4. The whole group

They were having an emergency meeting at the diner.

“I can’t take it anymore”, Isobel whined. “They’re insufferable. I was happy being single, but they just had to ruin it for me!”

“You? What about me? I almost went out with that guy just because they made me feel so lonely!” Maria glared.

“We went together to Planet 7 one night, they were so stupidly in love I almost went home with A GUY too.” Kyle said, if they were competing for the title of “most miserable witness of Malex’s epic love”, he would WIN.

“It’s not easy for the happily dating ones either, OK?” Liz said, “Max is trying so hard these days, because he would turn anything with Mikey into a competition, it’s exhausting.”

“Hey! I’m right here!”

“Anyway”, Liz ignored him, “Halloween is coming. I really don’t want them dressing up like some eternal love story and gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes while in COSTUME. It’s hard to watch when they are in regular clothes already, you know?”

They all nodded. Except for Kyle.

“From what I know, Alex doesn’t do Halloween, so is this precaution really necessary?”

Isobel snorted. “Michael didn’t have any chance to do Halloween before. I heard him talking to Alex yesterday that he would like to do the couple costume thing with him this year. He even brought out his puppy eyes and bashful smile in full mass. I left at that point, because otherwise I’d have to claw my eyes out, but I doubt Alex would refuse Michael anything at that moment.”

Kyle admitted defeat rather quickly.

“So, what do we do?”

———————————

“A themed Halloween party?” Michael asked, with doubt.

“Yes!” Liz replied enthusiastically, “we all have to dress up as the person of our dreams, be it a celebrity or a character, or some historical figure”, she threw a teasing glance towards Max, “it’ll be fun!”

“So, I should just dress up as Alex?”

The whole group groaned.

Alex laughed. “You are doing this so Michael and I won’t do the couple costume, aren’t you.” It was not a question.

Isobel rolled her eyes. “Gee, why would we do that, it’s not like you are THAT COUPLE.”

“That couple?” Alex asked, while leaning into Michael at the word couple, as if he couldn’t help himself. Infuriating thing was, Michael leaned RIGHT BACK.

“You know, the couple that grazes on everybody’s nerves because they are JUST SO IN LOVE that they look like they’re about to jump each other in any given moment but also want to wrap themselves in a warm fluffy blanket and never leave the couch? You are THAT COUPLE.”

“Okay”, Alex said slowly, as if he was struggling to understand, the bastard, “so how would it help the situation if Michael and I dress up as each other at the Halloween party?”

Guerin snorted at that, he seemed SO PROUD OF HIS ALEX for being a dick.

“You are NOT dressing up as each other!” Maria half yelled. “Nobody is dressing up as anybody in this group!”

“Alright! Jesus.” Michael laughed. “We won’t.”

———————————

“What. The. Fuck.” Liz watched Alex and Michael approaching, and she was speechless.

Well, almost. “You promised you won’t dress up as each other, you lied!”

Michael smirked, nose ring and eyeliner firmly in place. “Technically we didn’t. I’m not Alex, I’m his seventeen year old self, and he is a new man now.”

And Alex, honest to God had a curly wig on, smirked in equal measure, “What can I say? You chose an impossible theme for us to do any other costume. Now who’s fault is that?”

Liz hated them so much.

————————————

+1 Cameron

Cameron was waiting for bathroom in wild pony for five minutes now, she was getting impatient.

So when Alex and Michael tumbled out of it, she just couldn’t help herself.

Thing was, they were not even trying to hide the fact that they had been having sex.

Yes, the clothes were intact, the hair obviously combed, they were walking side by side, a reasonable distance between them.

But the satisfied expressions and fucked out bliss were also very evident.

“I always thought sex in wild pony’s bathroom was an urban myth, you know”, she said, conversationally, “who would do it here, I thought, with the smell, the sticky floor and the terrible soundproof condition, surely they would rather up and leave than keeping at it, right?”

Michael, as she predicted, shamelessly smiled, his posture relaxed, slutty even, he winked.

“Worth it for a great lay.”

What she didn’t predict, was for Alex to say, calmly and deadpan.

“And by great lay he means me.”

They continued to leave, now hand in hand.

[mavericksy]

Seeing Red

TW: Detailed descriptions of menstruation, gender dysphoria

Summary: Tsuburaba gets his period, and Class 1B try to make him feel better, with varying degrees of success. 

AO3 link (text is also below): https://archiveofourown.org/works/28285605

A/N: Sweet comfort fic- I got my period a a few days ago and it was really bothering me this morning. also, there is a major lack of trans tsuburaba content. how could you do this to dysphoria hoodie boy. 

SEEING RED

Vlad King shouldered into the locker room and clapped his hands.

“Alright, boys, time to get to the gym!”

At once, the gathered male students looked up and nodded, their conversations dropping to a hush as they hurried to fix their costumes.

He held the door open for them, counting each student as they went into the corridor. As Honenuki left the room, Vlad spotted Monoma loitering at the back, wearing a concerned expression.

“Is everything alright, son?” he asked. Monoma looked behind himself.

“It’s Tsuburaba, sir.”

“Oh?” Thinking on it, Vlad hadn’t spotted the short boy among the rest of the group. “Did he come in today?”

Monoma nodded. “Yes, sir. He’s in the bathroom. He’s having a few…issues.”

“Oh. Should I get the Imodium?” 

“It’s not that! Sir, it’s that time of the month.” Vlad continued to frown at him. Monoma sighed. “He’s on his period.” 

“He is?”

“I think he got it while he was getting changed in the back- it caught him by surprise. He’s upset.”

“I can imagine. Poor kid. Sometimes I forget he’s…you know.”

“Sir, permission to go to the girl’s locker room. He says he needs a sanitary towel.”

“Permission granted, son.” Monoma nodded and prepared to leave the room. “No funny business when you get there, mind!”

The boy rolled as his eyes as he left. Steeling himself for an awkward discussion, Vlad tip-toed towards the bathroom at the back of the changing room. It was a small, tiled annex, with two closed stalls, two urinals, and a pair of porcelain sinks. A passage to the right led towards the showers. Underneath the gap of one of the toilet cubicles, he spotted shadows moving on the floor. Muffled noises were coming from inside.

He coughed and knocked on the wall next to him. “Tsuburaba? You in here, son?”

The muffled noise suddenly stopped. A moment later, a croaky voice replied, “Yeah.”

“Monoma tells me you’re in a bit of an awkward situation.”

Tsuburaba laughed ruefully, a single sardonic bark that rattled around the walls.

“Do you want to come out and talk about it?”

“I can’t really move right now, sir.”

Drat. There went Vlad King’s patented ‘give them a comforting yet manly hug’ maneuver. Now he’d actually have to make conversation.

“Is everything OK?”

From inside the dim stall, Tsuburaba looked in the direction of Vlad King’s deep voice. His hands were full of wadded-up toilet paper, which he had been using to try and pat his crotch and briefs dry.

“Could be better, sir,” he admitted, squinting at the rust-colored marks across the tissue after he had scuffed it across his bloody underwear. He sighed and threw it between his legs, into the toilet.

“Are you having...cramps or anything?” 

“Not right now, no. I’ll probably end up getting them later tonight, though.” He unrolled another strip of tissue. “Sometimes they make it hard to sleep.”

“You got enough painkillers back in the dorms?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. Midnight’s on call tonight, if you need her. Do you want me to tell her what’s going on?”

“No, I…” Tsuburaba squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his forehead with his free hand, trying to control his voice as a lump began to rise in his throat. Vlad King’s voice kept coming, over and over, giving him no time to settle. “I’d rather keep this private, sir. If you don’t mind.”

“I get you. Are you going to be OK in class today?”

“I’ll be fine, sir, just so long as I’m not bleeding into my pants all morning!” Tsuburaba snapped. There was silence from outside. He exhaled shakily and placed his head in his hands, feeling another string of blood ooze out of him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, son. You’re going through a lot right now.”

“It’s such a weird feeling,” Tsuburaba said quietly, shivering as he crossed his arms. “I can feel the blood on my skin as it’s coming out, but…it’s like there’s not enough skin, you know? I can feel that something else is supposed to be there, but…it’s not. It’s just flat.” He swallowed. “Sorry, again. That’s TMI.”

“It…” Vlad King didn’t disagree, but Tsuburaba could tell from his careful, measured tone of voice that he was sympathetic. “It’s good to talk about this kind of thing, sometimes- to have a level of awareness about your body. Did I ever tell you about the time I got infected by a parasite?”

Tsuburaba’s eyes widened. He shook his head, then remembered that Vlad couldn’t see him.

“No, sir.”

“Well, there’s not much to tell,” Vlad King laughed. “I was out in the field, fighting off a group of your standard hoodlums. One of them went in for a close-combat attack from behind, and managed to hit my back. I swung him away from me and finished the fight without making too much of it. Then, over the next few days, I had this awful aching sensation in my right shoulder, like I’d thrown it while training.”

“I’ve had that kind of thing all week,” said Tsuburaba, feeling an ache prickle down his own back. “Should have known it was coming from that. Anyway, you were saying?”

“The pain lasted for weeks. I thought I was going nuts- I was tired, I was cranky, but I couldn’t work out what was wrong for the life of me. It wasn’t until I rolled over in bed one night and my wife noticed this golf ball sized protrusion sticking out of my back. We got to an emergency doctor, and she put me under for surgery that same evening- a few hours later, I wake up in her office, and there’s this giant insect squirming around a glass jar next to her computer.”

Tsuburaba choked back a gasp. Always prone to feeling pain as other people described it, he clutched his shoulder, wincing in sympathy.

“That’s crazy, sir!”

“Uh-huh. Turns out it had been part of a plan to put me out of commission- to change up the patrol routes so the gang could launch an attack without me being there. Oh- here’s Monoma.”

“I got a sanitary towel from Kendou,” Monoma’s voice said. Plastic packaging crinkled.

“You’re a lifesaver, bro,” said Tsuburaba, inching towards the door. He looked down at himself and sighed. “Can you push it under the door?”

He saw Monoma’s feet approaching.

“Is everything OK, now, Tsuburaba?” Vlad King asked.

“Yeah, everything should be fine now, thanks,” said Tsuburaba, grabbing the square piece of packaging from Monoma’s hand. “I’ll join everyone in a minute.”

“I’ll see you in the gym, then.”

“Cool. Oh, and sorry for snapping.”

There was a pause. Tsuburaba assumed that Vlad King and Monoma were eyeing each other.

“Don’t worry about it, son,” Vlad said reassuringly. His footsteps began retreating. “I’ll see you boys soon.”

“Do you want me to leave, Tsuba?” asked Monoma. He mulled it over.

“That’s OK,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”

With an apology to his friend, Monoma occupied himself at the urinals while he waited. From inside the stall, there was a tearing noise, followed by a high-pitched rustle. As Monoma went to wash his hands, the stall door clanked open, and Tsuburaba joined him at the sinks. He noticed how he stood with his legs a little apart, trying to rock his hips into a more comfortable position.

“Better?”

“Much better.”

They dried their hands and returned to the changing room. Tsuburaba stopped him before he left.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done today,” he said.

“It’s not a problem- it’s basic decency, really. Besides, Kendou’s the one you should be thanking.”

“I know, but…you didn’t have to do all this for me, you know?” He looked down at his feet. “I’ve got one more favour to ask, by the way. If you don’t mind.”

“Name it.”

“Could you tell me if I get a stain on my pants? Please? They’re pretty thick material, but the colour is light, so…”

“Are you asking if I’ll look at your butt for the rest of the lesson? That’s more than fine by me.” Monoma laughed as Tsuburaba scowled, though he could tell he was biting back a smile. The shorter guy swiped at him.

“Shuddup, will you?”

“I’m sorry!” They both laughed as they emerged into the hallway.

“But seriously, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Class went normally, for the most part. There was definitely a vague knowledge among the group that something was wrong with Tsuburaba, but he couldn’t complain too much about the various sympathetic glances that were being sent in his direction.

Tetsutetsu leaned forward and shook his shoulder.

“You’re the man, bro,” he whispered.

“Heh, thanks,” Tsuburaba said awkwardly, trying to disappear into the back corner of the benches. Tetsutetsu flinched as Kendou shoved him roughly.

“Would you leave him alone?” she hissed.

“I was only trying to-”

“It’s OK!” he said quickly. “Thanks, both of you. I appreciate it.” 

Kendou turned to him and nodded, retreating from Tetsutetsu, who gave him a grateful thumbs-up.

The number of students on the benches dwindled as Vlad King organised them into groups, with only ten students on the court at any one time. Finding that he and Kendou were alone together- save for a few other students scattered a little further away- he slid next to her.

“Monoma says you helped me out today,” he said.

“Did he? Oh, with the…”

“Yeah. I just wanted to say thanks.”

“It’s no big deal, really! I’m just glad that we could get everything in order.”

“You and me both.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Swampy.”

With a glance in the other students’ direction, Kendou leaned in. Tsuburaba blushed as she came close, her ponytail brushing his shoulder.

“I got mine too, yesterday evening. I’ve stocked up on chocolate and sad movies if you wanted to hang out later.”

Tsuburaba shook his head. “I can’t do sad things when I’m like this. I’d be a mess. But thanks for the offer.” 

“Any time.”

There was a chorus of groans as Kaibara hit the floor, a dodgeball bouncing away from him. On the opposite side of the court, Yanagi stood proudly to one side with her arms half-raised, her teammates screaming praise at her.

As Kaibara had been the last man standing on his team, Vlad King blew his whistle to signal the end of the match. 

“Next team, Team B vs Team D!”

Tsuburaba took a moment to check his trousers before standing. He turned to Kendou.

“You’re clean,” she said, before he had even fully opened his mouth. “Good luck!”  

He smiled and gave her a thumbs up, heading towards the court. Also up from the benches, Kuroiro joined him as they strode to their side of the court.

“I am so glad we have you,” he said to Tsuburaba. “You’re one of the best players.”

“Tsuburaba vs Yanagi and Monoma,” added Awase, who was making his way to the back of the room, ready to use his quirk to fuse as many accumulated dodgeballs as he could. “It’s a clash of the titans.

The shorter boy offered a quick smile to them both, before focussing his gaze on the opposing team. He began to breathe in deeply, preparing to unleash a slew of defensive walls.

Monoma caught his eye and grinned. He was stood in between Yanagi and Honenuki, which probably meant that Tsuburaba could expect strikes that came from nowhere, and for the ground to suddenly disappear beneath him- if Honenuki went out.

“Are you OK?” Monoma mouthed at him.

“I’m fine,” he mouthed back, watching Monoma’s concern fade and be replaced with a self-assured expression.

Tsuburaba grinned wickedly and fixed his eyes on the line of balls in front of him. He could use his quirk to shunt the balls at Team B before they had time to react, or wait for one of them to lurch forwards, only to slam into an invisible wall of air. 

Monoma didn’t know just how closely he was going to have to watch his ass. 

Disclaimer (?): 

while periods suck, please remember that they are natural and you shouldn't be made to feel ashamed of them!

taking male hormones is *not* a 'cure' for menstruation. i've been on t for two years and had my period come back after a year of not having it, hence why i'm sad and wanted to write a comfort fic.

please don't feel like you need to medically transition just because you don't like having a period- there's a risk of you developing real gender dysphoria due to other side effects, and needing to detransition later. i'm saying this because there's not a lot of menstruation-themed content out there, and i don't want people to equate 'periods are annoying' with 'i must be transgender'. please speak to your doctor if you're worried about your cycle or any unusual symptoms.

with that said, godspeed to anybody dealing with their time of the month right now! i hope you have all the chocolate you need!

[marvelfansince08love]

The Pleasure is all mine  Chapter 2

Word count: 2616 

Pairing: Lou Miller x Fem!Reader, Background Platonic friendship Debbie Ocean x Lou Miller. 

Setting: Three weeks after their initial meeting, they finally meet again but does the reader assume things to quickly...  (of course she does because I wrote it and I’m an over-thinker)

A/N: I am so sorry for the late update, I was going to do it yesterday but I just needed to add a couple of things to it before uploading. Also I skimmed through this... does that count as proof-reading?

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​ @5aftermidnight​

P.S: Your comments puts fuel/gas in my car, much appreciated x

I do not own the gif below! ♥

Chapter 2 

Erin is a sweet five year old girl with the cutest blonde curls and crystal blue eyes reminding me of a certain hot knight in shining armour.

"See you around Y/N from Y/H/T"

"Miss Nurse do you have any fish?"

I shake the thoughts of Lou out of my head before focusing on the important question asked by my patient.

"No, but I did have when I was younger. He was a clown fish"

"Just like Nemo!" She squeals excitedly.

I grin softly at the innocent statement.

"Just like Nemo"

"Do you think if I ask mummy real nicely, she will get me Nemo once I'm better" she asked sweetly with a hint of sadness. I frown slightly thinking about the treatment that she's currently going through before quickly masking it behind a sweet smile.

"Well there's no harm in asking hey, my little munchkin?" I stroke my thumb across her cheek softly offering some comfort.

"Miss Nurse do you think I'll get any better?"

I fumble slightly trying to gather my thoughts. This has always been the most difficult part of the job but somehow, I wouldn't change it for the world.

"I sure hope so kid! But just know that me and your parents are going to be right here, with you, all the way" I reassure her before standing up and letting her know that she's due her medication.

 Leaving the room, I sigh gently before rubbing my tired eyes. After working three twelve-hour shifts in a row a girl could use a nap. I straighten myself up again and turn towards the nurse’s station, on my way over I see Erin's parents coming through the door and towards her room. They glance over and offer a polite smile and wave before entering. I turn back towards the nurse's station and see Rachel standing behind the desk going through medical files. She quickly glances my way before returning to her task with a mischievous grin.

"Someone looks like shit today; you want to borrow some of my concealer"

" Ha.Ha. very funny Rach, for that you can go on the next medication round"

She pokes her tongue out playfully before abandoning her task and turning her full attention to me. She places her face in the palms of her hands innocently before asking:

"Wanna come out tonight? Please, pretty please?" With a pout for good measure. I groan before rolling my eyes in displeasure.

"The last time I ended up out with you, I almost fractured my ankle" I complain. She scoffs and waves her hand in dismissal.

"Oh please! you were fine after a week besides you got rescued by some hot blonde, if anything you should be thanking me!" She teases. I roll my eyes in good nature before taking the medical file from her pile and walking away.

"I take that as a yes!" She states loudly, leaning over the desk. I turn my head to face her with a grin.

"Of course" with a quick playful wink before heading off to my next patient. I hear a loud "Yes!" from behind me before walking into the patients room.

................................................................................

The club is hot and dark with lightly dimmed blue lights. My tight black dress already clinging to my body like second skin from the heat. If I squint hard enough I can make out the sea of people dancing within the thick smoke on the dance floor.

"Okay before we hit the bar I need to dance the stress of work out of me" I state before being led by Rachel towards the dance floor in the middle of the room.

My hips sway in time with the beat of the song, warm bodies pressed close all around the busy dance floor. I can feel the floor vibrate beneath my feet. Rachel grabs my hand and twirls me around with Lucas our fellow paediatric nurse cheering us on. After half an hour of dancing I can feel my throat becoming drier indicating the need for a drink.

"You guys wanna get a round in" Rachel shouts to the both of us while gesturing to the packed bar in the middle of the room. We all cheer in agreement before grabbing onto each other and making our way through the crowd to the bar.

She waves over the bartender like greeting an old friend. She smiles charmingly at Rachel while leaning over the bar counter.

"There's my favourite girl! What can I get cha tonight Rach?" She says flirtatiously as she eyes Rachel's outfit. She's also opted for a tight-fitting dress in red. She giggles and places her hand on top of the flirty bartender's.

"Can we get a tray of vodka shots please?" She bats her eyelashes for extra measure. The bartender winks cheekily before turning around and preparing our tray

.

"You are such a flirt Rachel" Lucas says from beside me. I laugh in agreement as she pretends to be outraged by the accusation before grabbing the tray from the bartender and handing us both two each.

I bring the shot to my mouth and let the burning liquid travel down my throat. I splutter slightly from the first shot before downing my next one; this time going down a little easier - almost a little too easy. I grab another one from the tray that's still in Rachel's hand and down my third.

"Is it me or is the vodka a little weak?" I say loudly to the pair. They both chuckle and roll their eyes at me.

"Oh the big mighty Y/N thinks she can handle her drinks better than us Rach" Lucas mocks in good nature. I roll my eyes before giving him a playful shove on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry the vodka isn't to your likening"

That voice

Oh how I've dreamt of that voice.

I turn around with wide eyes my mouth opening in shock to see her stood with such confidence and beauty.

Lou

She's got the same signature smirk on her face just like that night in the food truck. I quickly close my gaping mouth and throw Lou a shy smile.

"Just point me in the direction of the club manager because there's no way that's just vodka" I awkwardly tease. I hear Rachel gasp next to me and with a quick glance her way she shakes her head as if indicating for me to stop talking, her eyes wide with slight fear and amusement.

"There's no need to take you to her when she's right here, love" she teases with her deep Australian accent. There's that damn smirk again.

Shit!

"Oh my god Lou, I am so sorry I didn't mean it in a bad way. I guess I can just handle stronger vodka" I ramble feeling embarrassed that I've managed to make a fool of myself TWICE in front of this woman.

She walks slowly up to me so we are in closer proximity and leans towards my ear, her breath smells of mint and is warm against my cheek. I close my eyes at the feeling of it – feeling intoxicated by it.

Maybe the vodka is a bit stronger than I thought.

"If you want something stronger all you gotta do is ask my darling" she pulls back and winks while chewing lazily on a piece of gum.

I shake the dirty thoughts out of my head before straightening up and quickly glancing at the two spectators in this flirtatious game. Their eyes moving back and forth between the two of us, Rach clashes her eyes with mine and winks before mouth "go for it". I quickly look back to Lou and notice that she's still staring at me waiting for a response her crystal blues look dark under the dimmed lights.

"Okay"

Her lips twitch in amusement before replying:

"Okay"

I smile wide at the similar exchange from our first meeting.

I turn back towards my friends to see them subtly giving me approval and making whipping noises.

I am so not whipped.

I feel her arm circle around my waist and her mouth close to my ear - barely touching.

"I hope you don't mind but I'd hate to lose you in the crowd after I've just found you again" she says loudly into my ear before escorting me through the crowds, her arm never loosening its hold around me.

As we come to a flight of stairs, I tense and turn towards her in confusion which effectively removes her arm.

"My office is up here and it's quiet, I'd like to talk to you. I know it sounds crazy, but I've not been able to get you out of my head" she looks deep into my eyes with slight insecurity. I smile gently before gently taking hold of her hand and heading for the steps. I look over my shoulder at her and see that her eyes are glued to one place only:

"I hope you weren't looking at my ass, Aussie" I say cheekily with a smirk. She quickly looks away and smirks; as if she's not ashamed of being caught. Just like that the insecurity is gone.

"I wouldn't dream of objectifying you like that darling"

 The cheek of this woman!

 You secretly love it though

 I blush at the nickname as well as my thoughts before hiding it by turning back around and continuing up the stairs.

We finally reach her office space and gestures for me to seat down on a very expensive black plush sofa.

This is place is huge!

Lou moves over to a small bar in the corner of the room and pours two small glasses of vodka. She walks over with confidence and hands me a glass before taking a seat next to me - hip brushing against hip. She leans her forearms onto her thighs and turns to look at me with those crystal blue eyes.

"Thanks for coming up here it gets a bit much downstairs, how are you? How's that ankle of yours?" She asks softly with some concern.

I smile and feel my heart beating faster at our proximity.

"Uh yeah I'm doing okay. I've managed to see more of New York and made a few friends, plus my ankle is a hundred times better now thanks to you" I say with a teasing undertone. I gently bump my shoulder against hers and grin.

She laughs, mouth wide showing her perfect white teeth.

"So I see you run your own little kingdom around these parts huh. First the burger truck and now a nightclub you must be pretty busy" I state jokingly, she shifts uncomfortably before masking her discomfort with a smug smirk.

"I'm a woman of many talents Y/N" I raise an eyebrow in question to her diverting away from the statement. Her shoulders drop before taking a sip of her drink.

"Growing up... I didn't have a lot. My father worked two jobs trying to provide for us, we moved constantly, never staying in the same place longer than six months. I guess it made me more determined to not have that constant worry of where my next meal was coming from or if I had a roof over my head. So eventually I moved to New York starting working a few highly paying jobs and managed to afford this place.... 5 years later I'm running one of the busiest nightclubs in New York" She stares at me with a soft expression.

"Your amazing" I whisper my eyes taking her in, trying to piece this beautiful woman together. Maybe there's a softness to the mysterious confident Lou. She reaches over and takes my hand into hers, her thumb brushing softly against my skin.

"Listen Y/N...

"Hey Lou baby, we need talk about this plan because I've been up all night thinking about and honestly I need a listening ear... oh you have company"

Lou quickly let's go of my hand and stands briskly, her eyes widen as if being caught doing something she shouldn't be doing.

"Debs I uh, this is Y/N you know the woman I helped a few weeks ago" her voice tight and rushed; as if trying to justify my presence. I reel off all the possibilities as to why she's retreating in this woman's presence until a cold realisation dawn's on me as I stare at them both.

She has a girlfriend

A hot girlfriend

Fuck!

I stand quickly and both women turn and look towards me. Lou seems to realise my conclusion and steps forward, mouth opening as if to reel off an explanation. I sidestep out of her reach and look at her crestfallen face.

"I uh, I should go. My friends will be wondering where I am, it was nice meeting you" I stutter as I clumsily make my way to the door. The hot brunette seems to raise an eyebrow, silently questioning my sudden departure.

"Wait Y/N stay please" Lou asks desperately. My eyes widen at her tone of voice and I can see the brunette is also surprised by her desperation.

"I really can't do this. I'm sorry" I whisper before fleeing the room and down back to the club floor. I quickly find my friends through the sea of people. I grab onto Rachel's arm and lean my mouth to her ear:

"I gotta go I'm not feeling well"

She wiggles her eyebrows playfully.

"Oh yeah I bet you are, how was she?"

There's that sick feeling again; or is it the vodka.

"No seriously I'm gonna head home I'm tired and think I'm coming down with something"

She looks at me with a frown noticing the serious tone of my voice.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?"

"No its okay, I'll grab a cab from outside and text you in the morning"

I blow a kiss over to Lucas who seems to be too busy with a tall handsome god of a man and quickly leave. As I get to the door a look up towards the office and see Lou looking down scanning the crowd; for me.

It's like a magnet charging between us because in a second her eyes turn to me. She looks pissed and, on a mission, as she quickly takes to the stairs. I turn around and head out of the door and take a deep breath in the cold New York air before heading for a cab. I feel a hand wrap around my elbow desperately.

"Wait Y/N there's been a misunderstanding somewhere, I thought we were getting along"

"Look Lou, I think you're great but this, whatever it is, needs to stop"

She let's go of my arm and stands still, her eyes boring into mine before scanning every inch of my face.

"If that's what you want, I won't pursue anything but I want to at least be your friend Y/N. I know it sounds crazy even I can't believe it but there is something about you Y/N from Y/H/T and I can't get you out of my head. I shouldn't want this but fuck! I need you around... your presence grounds me" she sighs in defeat looking lost her crystal blue eyes pleading for me to understanding.

"Lou I... can't do this. I will not be that girl who gets involved with someone who's already taken, I'm sorry" I whisper before taking a step back - away from her and fleeing before she can explain further.

Once in the cab I look out of the window to see Lou running her hands through her blonde hair in frustration before storming back inside.

What have I gotten myself into.

[skelebonecentral]

Hothouse Rose chapter 6

Gotta get that last Fell boy into shape!

(words under cut) And remember, the pictures for the Lust boys are all six up on my main undertale blog.

Whip stared at his brother.

“AND TELL ME AGAIN WHY YOU’RE IN MY ROOM, GLARING LIKE I MELTED YOUR WHOLE SHOP?”

“cause ya ain’t actin’ like part of the family anymore and I wanna know why.” Spice was leaning back against Whip’s door, blocking all exit. “ever since baby doll came, you’ve been sulkin’ and hidin’ from’em and I don’t appreciate it. I know ya ain’t a coward, so what is it?”

Whip’s skull began to color in anger, standing to his full height, “BECAUSE THAT HUMAN IS NOT GOING TO LAST. I’VE SEEN THE HUMANS AROUND HERE, AND NONE OF THEM WOULD ACCEPT US IF THEY KNEW THE FULL EXTENT OF WHO AND WHAT WE ARE. THEIR URGES ARE TAMPED DOWN WITH IRON RODS AND CLOSED OFF EXCEPT FOR THE MOST TABOO AND PRIVATE MOMENTS. OR IN OPEN DISPLAYS IN THE SEEDY UNDERBELLY OF THEIR WORLD AND THOSE WHO PARTICIPATE OFTEN END UP DEAD.”

“I know that.” Spice was unmoved by this aggressive display. He was not afraid of his baby brother. “I’ve done my research on what gettin’ my shop going up here would entail, an’ it wasn’t pretty. but bro, just cause it’s private for them don’t mean they ain’t capable of openin’ up. just gotta work harder for it.”

Whip’s hands were gripped into fists, and even though he was looking down, Spice noticed his gaze was on the floor next to him, not on himself, “AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ONE OF THOSE FRIVOLOUS OTHERS FALLS FOR THEM? OR GETS THE INTEREST FOR A ROMP, HM? WHAT THEN?”

“apparently that already happened today. Boa. Baby doll got embarrassed but they’re still pals.”

Whip flinched hearing that, his glare getting more intense, “SO YOU’RE SAYING THEY AREN’T GOING TO TURN ON US? THAT I’M BEING RIDICULOUS?”

“no, I’m sayin’ you don’t need to try an’ protect yourself so hard.” Spice sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, “bro, you usually aren’t closed off like this with people you don’t trust. You’re good at making them think you like’em so they slip up. why are ya actin’ like a frightened cat? All puffed up and angry?”

Whip’s sockets were filling with red magic, “BECAUSE AT LEAST IF I KEEP THEM AWAY IT WON’T HURT HAVING TO LEAVE.”

“there’s the issue,” Spice walked over to where Whip was shaking in place, quickly putting his arms around him, “ya do like ‘em, then?”

“YES.” The answer was wet and miserable, “THEY’RE EVERYTHING PAPYRUS SAID, AND EVEN WITH SUGAR BEING CAUTIOUS, I CAN’T FIND A REASON NOT TO. SANS…” Whip slowly collapsed to his knees and held Spice tight, “I’ve…I’ve never been so close to someone who actually met my standards. They’re kind, and they care about our alternates, and they’re smart, and funny and beautiful and…Sans, I’m so scared to let myself go because we’re going to lose them.”

Spice rubbed his back gently, “I know, bro. but that’s why we gotta try an’ enjoy it, right? when we’re back in that shithole, we gotta have memories to get us through. Cause what good is it pushin’ away good things just cause they won’t last? Just means you spend more time bein’ sad than ya had ta.”

“I don’t know if my soul can take it, though,” Whip whined, hiding his sockets against Spice’s shoulder. “You know how lonesome it was at home and finding someone like y/n here…it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I found an angel and have to give them up.”

“y’know I understand that, probably better than most,” Spice gave his back a pat, making him let loose so he could sit down, “bro, I get it, but like I said, enjoy it while we can. cause once it’s gone, we ain’t gettin’ another chance.”

Whip sat next to him on the bed and leaned over, head on his shoulder, “You’re right, as usual, brother. I just…I’m used to causing pain, not feeling it. It’s difficult to manage.”

“yeah. but you can do it. I know ya can. cause I’ll be right with ya the whole time.”

After a while, just the slow hum of Whip’s computer and the breeze outside, Whip asked, “What did it feel like when you got to hold them, Sans?”

“real nice,” Spice purred a bit, “their whole body is soft, bro. hair, skin, hands, all pillows. Ehehe, they’d be mad if I said that to’em, though. they’re workin’ with their buddies and pap to get in shape. Spend half an hour outside every afternoon with’em in their leggings and sport top. Nice ta watch.”

Whip nodded, “And do they mind flirtations too much?”

“they’re gettin’ better about it, but you still have ta be careful how far ya go. don’t get all out explicit, but suggestive is fine. They actually shot one back at Sugar yesterday, even if it was kinda weak.”

“Good.” He took a deep breath and sighed as he let it out, “I’m going to try to amend my mistake of avoiding them, but it’ll take some time. Please keep me from making an ass of myself anymore.”

“I’ll try, but I dunno much about donkeys,” Spice quipped, only to get pushed onto the bed as Whip got up in irritation. “ehehehe, sorry, bro, but you walked inta that one.”

“I DID AND I HATE IT.”

--

You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast after waking up late on a rare Friday holiday when Whip walked in. Normally, he’d instantly walk back out looking frustrated, but today he stayed.

It was weird, and you watched as he walked to the fridge, got a bottle of a chocolate protein drink, and sat down near you.

“HUMAN, I….HMGH,” he started, picking at the wrapper on the outside of his drink till he could get the lit loose, “Y/N. I’VE BEEN…COLD TO YOU, TO SAY THE LEAST.”

“Yes.” Where is he going with this?

“I THOUGHT…WELL, I SHOULD EXPLAIN WHY. OR AT LEAST APOLOGIZE FOR IT.” He grimaced while he searched for the words, “I SIMPLY WAS AFRAID OF GETTING HURT WHEN OR IF WE SHOULD EVER PART WAYS. BECAUSE I HONESTLY…I’VE WANTED TO MEET SOMEONE LIKE YOU FOR A VERY LONG TIME AND IT MADE ME FEEL PANICKED. LIKE…FINALLY GETTING TO MEET YOUR FAVORITE CELEBRITY BUT AS YOU NEAR THE STAGE DOOR YOU BOLT. YOU’RE AFRAID THE REALITY WON’T LIVE UP TO THE DREAM AND IF IT DOES THEN YOU FEAR THE PAIN OF THE MEETING BEING OVER.”

That was not what you expected as his reasoning. Pride, specist thoughts, a general dislike of new people, something like that, but not…this. “I do understand your reference, but I’m still kind of shocked you’re even talking to me at all right now.”

“I UNDERSTAND.” He sighed, taking a long drink from his bottle. “I JUST WANTED TO…WELL, TO TRY AND FIX THINGS. I HAD TO ADMIT WHAT I WAS THINKING TO MY BROTHER AND THAT FINALLY GOT ME THINKING ABOUT…HOW UNFAIR IT WAS TO BE ANGRY WITH YOU FOR BEING YOURSELF. I HAD NO RIGHT, AND IT’S KIND OF STUPID NOW THAT I PUT IT IN WORDS. GOOD GRIEF.”

“How about,” you hold out your hand, smiling, “we start over? Hi, my name is Y/n. I’m Sans and Papyrus’ datemate and I’d like to stay in the house for the foreseeable future.”

He looked at your hand, then his shoulders relaxed and his sharp smile turned soft, “MY NAME IS WHIP, IT’S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU AT LAST.” He shook your hand, “I’D BE HAPPY TO HAVE SOMEONE SO BELOVED BY MY COUSINS STAY WITH US.”

A pool of warmth dropped into your chest at the relief you knew was a mutual experience. You no longer had an enemy in your home, and the comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your respective sustenance was very rewarding.

--

“Sugar, please,” Charm rubbed his sockets, “I’m trying to plan a fun night out for us all, and your pessimism is ruining it.”

“no, I’m seriously worried. Have you not felt the energy change? Somebody’s doing something and it’s none of us.”

“I felt it and I know exactly what happened, but I’m not telling you because it’s none of your business.” Charm kept clicking from one page to another, looking at options.

“what?”

“You heard me. You do realize there is a loving trio in this house, yes? That it’s not just us and the others from similar universes?” Charm swiveled his chair and looked fully at his brother, “Sans, sometimes your anxiety makes you act like a prick.”

Sugar winced, deflating. “oh. yeah. guess I overstepped again.”

“Yes, you did.” Charm pushed his chair over and poked Sugar in the chest, “but I will remind you again. I love you. I want what is best for everyone here. And I am not some babybones who is naïve about the complexities of relationships. It’s just things are tilted differently here, and yes, that was hard to get used to, but it can be done. And besides,” He smiled, “We’re all going out for Halloween. I need to make sure we go somewhere fun since it’s Y/n’s favorite holiday and Papyrus’ birthday.”

Sugar sighed, “okay. okay, maybe you’re right. and sansy’s been trying to get me to lighten up too, so…” He sat on the floor before laying out like a star, “if sweet-pea can trust them enough to cuddle again, I guess I can try to, too.”

“Bully for you!” Charm smiled, going back to his computer. “And Sweet-pea will be here at the house with our candy bowl, so he will get a costume as well.”

“he’s actually going to greet the trick or treaters?”

“Yes! He’s been doing very well since he started opening up more.” Charm double clicked something and absently scanned the text that popped up, “He’s started sitting on the deck with us while we do our yoga and Sansy is seeing if he can set up video chat conferences with a therapist for him. Apparently, humans get this kind of anxiety too. It’s called agoraphobia.”

Sugar nodded, kind of surprised. Sweet-pea was going outside? Willingly? That was definitely a good thing, no arguing that, and…well, he was getting tired of being jumpy about the human all the time, if he was being honest.

--

You were a little shy about it, but Boa and Sweet-pea were both bustling around you in Sweet-pea’s room. They were re-taking your measurements to make sure they were accurate for your costume. You hadn’t had a good idea for a costume, but Papyrus had proposed it being a surprise that they chose for you. Sweet-pea had volunteered to make the design, and you’d been excited to see what he’d do. So far, he’d made you a nightgown that made you feel very ethereal any time you wore it, but he’d been too busy with commissions and orders to do anything else till now.

“I take a break every October,” he told you, sketching away, “it lets me have down time to recover and do whatever things I’d like otherwise.”

Boa was very fast with the measuring tape, barely touching it to your body as you stood in a shirt and shorts.

You felt the goosebumps going over your scalp as they worked, just like at the doctor’s office, and felt that strange far away feeling that went with them.

“Pumpkin,” Boa spoke, standing with his tape, “have you ever been fitted properly for your foundations?” He seemed puzzled as he looked you over. “I just want to make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be. Bad support can cause back pain, you know.”

You hadn’t known. “No, I haven’t. What would you have to do?”

Sweet-pea looked up, “just measure around your chest do some more close measurements of your pelvis area. It doesn’t take long. Last time he fitted someone it only took him two and a half minutes. But…uh… you will have to undress. Dunno if you’re up to that or not.”

Boa blushed, but nodded, looking away. “It’s up to you. You’re going to look ravishing either way, but it’s just been bugging me since we went shopping that first day. You deserve to be comfortable…”

It took a moment, as you thought it out. Two and a half minutes, hm? And you trusted them both, at least as much as you trusted the classmates you’d changed in the bathrooms with at choir competitions in high school. Quite a bit more, now that you’re thinking about it, “I think we can do it. It would be nice to know for my next shopping trip.”

Both of them perked up, and you steeled yourself as you undressed down to nothing. Boa’s eye lights shone bright and wide, and you saw the glow start at his throat, but he shook his head and smiled, “I’ll be quick. Thank you for letting me help you!”

True to his word, Boa went fast, around your chest, from your collar to your nipple, and around the area under your breasts. “That’s that, thirty-four triple d, Sweet-pea.”

“thought so.” The younger brother wrote it down somewhere on his sketch pad, but he was still going, “I know someone who would kill for that size for her bleach cosplays.”

You tilted your head and he smiled, “Somebody I know at home. She’s almost as bad as Alphys about anime, but likes JUMP stuff more.”

“Ah, okay.” You were focusing on anything other than Boa being between your legs with his tape, going quickly over your thighs, around your butt, and gently pressing the end of the tape to your core and going up a ways before snapping back and listing off his findings. “Well, that was fast.”

“three minutes. A little slower, but we’ve never measured a human before.”

Boa nodded and handed you your things, “We have everything we need to make you the best costume and find the best things on our shopping trips now.” There was blush on his cheekbones, and his smile was very soft, making your own cheeks heat more.

“Thank you for being fast with it. I’m not exactly used to being naked in front of other people.” You hurry to get your clothes back on, even as you hear something in an almost electronic voice. “Huh?”

Boa blushed, “Um, sorry. I slipped into Wingdings for a moment. I ah…I was saying we were lucky to get a glimpse at such a rare treasure as your body.”

Sweet-pea snorted and giggled, “that’s what he said literally, but wingdings is a monster language, so you don’t get any of the cute undertones and intents that went with it in English. you do look nice, though.”

“You boys are going to be the death of me. I’m going to die of flattery,” You had scrunched up your face from how hot it got, and huffed as you pulled your shirt back on, “and then Papy and Sans will be widowers.”

“You’d have to marry them for that,” Boa smirked a bit.

“smartaleck” you stuck your tongue out at him and walked to the door, “You’re both lucky I love you.”

“we love you, too, y/n.” Sweet-pea poked Boa, who just waved at you.

You shake your head and leave.

As soon as the door shut, Boa’s whole skull exploded in color and he jerked his scarf off as the jewel below burst into brilliant light. “Oh my stars, I’m going to keel over! Humans smell so different and it’s GOOD and they’re so amazing already and then just! Naked right in front of me! ack!”

Sweet-pea chuckled, blushing a bit, “they were lovely. And those hips….gosh, I know kids aren’t the end all be all up here but they look like they could carry so well…”

“I know!” Boa groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands into his closed sockets, “How does Papyrus just have them as his datemate and not keep them in the bedroom all day?”

“He’s just not turned like us, bro,” Sweet-pea sighed, “but I’m glad they’re at least happy with each other. You could smell him on them as soon as the layers came off.”

Boa finally seemed to calm down as the glow in his gem dimmed, “That was reassuring. Now we’re sure they’re not hurting themselves with repression or anything.”

“pretty sure it’s only us that need that regular release for health,” Sweet-pea mumbled. “humans don’t get heats, much less be in one all the time.”

“That still is amazing to me. And there’s so many of them even so! But then again, they are mammals that care for their young a long time. it’s only natural most of their offspring live.”

Sweet-pea laughed, “you should never have dropped out of zoology, bro. you’d have been a great professor.”

“I’ll be a better guardsman slash radio host!” Boa shot back, getting up. “Now, as soon as you have the design ready, bring it to me. We’re going to make the others drop their jaws to the floor.”

“and all in a human-friendly fashion. Gonna be fun,” Sweet-pea waved his brother off, and got down to work. He was going to make the rest of the world see exactly what Y/n was to their household.

--

Whip was uncomfortable. Not because he didn’t participate in the pillow cuddling normally, because he had before the human had come. No, it was because said human had chosen to sit beside him in the pile. He was still jumpy around them, even if he knew they were on much better terms after his apology.

It didn’t help that Spice was on their other side and snoring so loud he could hardly hear.

“MAY I PLEASE WAKE HIM UP TO STOP THAT RACKET?”

“No, Whip, don’t wake him. He’s actually not trying to fluster me when he’s sleeping,” says the human, looking fondly at Spice. Well, they did have a point. “Here, let me try shifting him a bit.”

Interested, he watched as you gently shifted Spice’s head back, and his brother’s raucous snores quieted to gentle, soft vibrations.

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT?”

“Snoring in humans is caused by some weird blockages in the throat. I figured, if he’s snoring because of his ecto always being on, maybe doing what helps a human would help him.” You continue to intrigue him in the most unexpected ways.

--

Boa had been almost giddy in his sexy nurse costume when he handed you a bundle on Halloween at noon, “Here, Pumpkin, it’s your costume. Go put it on, hurry!”

Sweet-pea was behind him, a very normal looking scarecrow costume decorating his form, beaming in pride, “if you need help, just holler.”

Curious, you went to back into your room (you’d been leaving it to ask about just this) and opened the bundle. A beautiful Grecian dress, creamy white with golden clasps, lay in a cloud of feathers with a set of very soft, cottony underwear. The ease with which those went on surprised you, and the lifting of the weight of your chest from your back made your eyes widen. “Oh.” Boa had been incredibly accurate in that the wrong underthings could make you hurt.

The dress slipped on, as did a pair of delicate sheer white hose, and some golden sandals. The feathers, you realize, are wings that loop onto the clasps on your shoulders and attach to the golden rope around your waist. You actually get them on yourself, and when you pick up the little harp and halo that were hidden underneath, you grin. “An angel, huh?”

Everything fit like a glove, comfortable but flattering as you exited and came down the stairs. Charm saw you first and gasped, “Oh! Sweetheart, that’s gorgeous, but here, come with me.” He had that sneaky look when he was going to try and goad you or Sans and Papyrus into doing something romantic, but instead of taking you to them, he took you to a room under the stairs that you’d never bothered to investigate. It was like a dressing room in a theater, with lights and make up and wigs of all kinds.

“Welcome to my studio! On of the things I learned from my bestie underground is that half of an outfit is made by your make-up. Let me take you from a ten to an eleven.” He sat you down and gently removed the golden circlet of your halo, setting it down on the vanity. “Now, monster make-up is a lot different than human in that it doesn’t take five hours to do! So, I’m going to turn you around, and in thirty minutes you’ll be the belle of the Halloween ball.”

You only had a brief glimpse of your reflection (thankfully) before the chair was turned and Charm got to work. Smooth, cool creams were dabbed onto your face by his clearly practiced hands, having taken of his gloves to do this. It was kind of hard to keep from laughing, as he’d already made himself up and was wearing a rainbow afro and a red nose on top of his pure white face, blue eye circles, and big red mouth decorations. He was a very colorful clown, and the first clown you’d ever been happy to see.

Charm had his tongue stuck out while he worked, and you just couldn’t help yourself. You reached up and poked it with your finger. “Boop.”

He squinted his sockets and made a short noise that sounded like laughter, then gently told you off, “Don’t boop the beautician, sweet thing. It’s not polite.”

“But you’re my bestie first,” you point out, and his smile grows.

“I know.” He brushes his teeth against your forehead gently, “Now let me work my magic, quite literally.”

You giggle quietly, and he hums, using a puff to place powder over the creams.

He then goes around you and gently begins coming through your hair, adding some things to it as well, “When this is done, sweetie, it’s going to just be you with some polish. You’re always this lovely to us, it’ll just be enough magic to let others and you see what we see every day.”

“Are you sure?” Yes, you’d been pleased with the little bit of change you’d seen in your clothes since starting your daily yoga, but you still felt…gross.

“Oh, I’d put my soul on it.” He squeezed your shoulder gently before returning to his work on your hair, “Papyrus and Sans think you hung the moon, Y/n. And I’d put money on Boa thinking the same. Sweet-pea trusts you more than he’s trusted anyone outside the family, ever. Whip even let his pride go and started to get to know you. That means something.”

“And you and Sugar? Spice?”

“Oh Y/n, I can’t even put into words what you mean to me.” His voice was so soft and full of love, you couldn’t even imagine what his expression was, “and my brother is slowly letting go of his fears. He’ll understand your magnificence when he does. “ A snort of wry laughter, “And Spice would have you be his own private teddy bear if it was up to him.”

You giggle thinking about that. Since he’d gotten over your mutual miscommunication, Spice had been the ultimate cuddlebug when he felt he could be. Which was most of the time. Not that you minded, he was warm, and the thick ecto he always wore was soft and comfy. Plus, you liked his voice. It was different than the others, like Whip’s in that it was gravelly, but smoother underneath, carrying a sweetness you liked.

“Let me paint your nails, and then we’ll be done.” Charm squatted in front of you and took a bottle of what looked like clear nail polish out. He thought for a moment, then nodded, a zap of pink magic infusing the bottle and turning the polish inside gold. “That should be the right color. A touch of Midas, hm?” He beamed at his reference, and you nodded.

You used the time to talk about a movie you saw once, of people trying to gain an item related to King Midas, and Charm suggested you find it online and the family could watch it next weekend. After all, after your group returned from the Halloween carnival, you all would be watching Halloween themed cartoons and family movies (because Papyrus, Sweet-pea, and Boa preferred not to watch horror films) while eating whatever candy remained after the trick-or-treaters.

Looking at your fingernails, not only were they shimmering as if they were covered in liquid gold, but they were perfectly shaped and the cuticles that were normally rough were smoothed down. “Wow! How did you do that with just polish?”

“It’s the magic in the polish.” Charm finished your toes and returned the brush to the bottle, “The polish is just there to change color according to my intent. I needed it gold, and I wanted your nails to be healthy and beautiful, so the magic did the rest. Even after we take the polish off, you’ll still keep the healthy nails underneath. Also, it’s instant dry, too.”

He looked you over one last time and nodded, “Alright, are you ready?”

When you said yes, he placed the halo back on your head and turned you around. You almost burst into tears right there. Your hair was laying around your face in elegant waves, framing it perfectly and without frizz for the first time in your life. And your face, it was exactly what Charm had said. It was you, but your skin was evenly colored instead of blotchy, the texture was smooth and uniform, every pore was clean and tiny. Your eyelashes and brows were present instead of faded out like they usually were, and all signs of the flaky dermatitis that had plagued you since your teenage years was gone from them.

“I’m…..Charm, you did…” you just looked over at him, the water dripping out of your eyes without you even blinking to free it. “It’s wonderful.”

“Just a little MTT Beauty Butter and the intent to clean and heal. The rest is all how your body naturally wants to be. It loves you, just as we do, and wants you to be happy and healthy. It just needed a little boost, now and again, is all.” He helps you to your feet, taking a nearby box of tissues and using them to gently dry your tears. “Now you can see yourself as the angel we know you are.”

You just hug him, far beyond words.

He strokes your head gently, waiting for you to recover before saying, “Now, we should get to the living room to meet up with the others and head for the carnival.”

You felt like you were walking on air as he led you out of the make up room and down the hall to the living room.

The banter had started already, “SANS, WHY DO YOU INSIST ON LAZINESS? IT’S OUR FIRST HALLOWEEN WITH Y/N IN THE HOUSE AND YOU JUST….THAT?!”

Entering, you saw Papyrus dressed as Superman, cape and spandex in red, blue, and yellow, and Sans was wearing a black, cat-ear headband taped to his skull, with black whiskers drawn on his cheekbones sloppily, all with his normal clothes.

Sugar, as a sexy witch, is standing with his broom in a corner, laughing behind his hand next to pirate-captain Spice, long coat sweeping his brown boots and black hat sporting a big maroon feather. Whip was dressed as a classic Devil, though he’d exchanged the red onesie for a bright red business suit. Boa and Sweet-pea were on the couch, chatting.

Charm cleared his throat and that got everyone’s attention, and you were feeling quite small as they all looked at you.

Whip’s eye lights went out, and you noticed a bright glow in the left leg of his pants. Oh no…oh no you’d made him uncomfortable. “I-I didn’t pick this out but…I’m sorry.”

Spice came over, taking your hands in his (where did he find all those rings?), “don’t apologize, baby doll. You’re beautiful. Sweet-pea an’ Boa done good. you too, charm, cause I know baby doll don’t do make-up like that.”

“Bu-but-“

“no buts,” Sans shortcutted next to you and beamed, “you look perfect. We’re going to be the envy of everybody. Though, as an angel, you probably don’t like that, do you?” He winked and you smiled. You couldn’t help yourself if Sans was making jokes.

Papyrus strode over and knelt in front of you, making everyone step aside for him, “AS A SUPERHERO, I WILL WORK VERY HARD TO DO GOOD, SO THAT I MAY GET VISITS FROM THIS UNEARTHLY VISION OF LOVELINESS AGAIN!” He was sparkling -literally-, cheeks flushed orange, as he looked up at you.

“Papyrus, you can see me anytime.”

“I KNOW, BUT YOU LOOK EXACTLY LIKE A MESSENGER FROM HEAVEN RIGHT NOW! THE PICTURE OF THE DELTARUNE’S PREDICTED SAVIOR!” He frowned and got up, “THOUGH, THAT ACTUALLY TURNED OUT TO BE FRISK, SO YOU’RE THEIR COUSIN. BUT STILL!”

Sugar flounced over in the short skirt and tights that were wrapped around his bones, “ooh, our little y/n has graduated from pretty to gorgeous.”

Charm rolled his eye lights, but Boa and Sweet-pea rushed over before he could fire back at his brother.

“Oh, Y/n, it’s absolutely perfect. I was worried about the top of the dress but it’s laying fabulously,” Boa cooed, proud of his work.

“you look just like I thought you would,” Sweet-pea gave a small laugh, “though, turns out real life is better than imagination in this case. Thanks, charm, for finishing off the look.”

“Oh it was my pleasure, believe me,” Charm actually honked his nose, revealing it to be a prop horn, “I might be a clown tonight, but I am a chivalrous guard first and helping our dear Y/n shine their brightest is the least I could do.”

You were blushing so hard, but Papyrus gently scooped you out of the crowd, “NOW LET’S GET GOING TO THE CARNIVAL. I WANT EVERYONE TO ADMIRE OUR ANGEL BEFORE THEY GET TOO FLUSTERED AND MUSS THEIR MAKE-UP!”

There was a murmur of agreement, and as you left the house, you waved goodbye to Sweet-pea, who was beaming as he closed the door.

[wtf-yoongi]

How am I supposed to sleep after this?

pairing | hoseok x reader

summary | vegas w/ your sunshine friend hoseok i don’t think i have to say anything else

genre/warnings | idiots to lovers + humor + fluff + alcohol + drunk j-hope becoming hopeless + gambling + flexing money bc he’s rich af + language bc it’s vegas come on wouldn’t expect anything less

words | 1,875

note | i went to vegas once and it hit me today: that would be 100x better if i had a hoseok (if any of u know where i can get one pls let me know thanks)

It has been thirteen minutes since you first texted Hoseok to know if he was ready to go. 

That idiot always takes the longest time for some reason. Probably choosing between which Balenciaga bag he’s going to wear for the night.

You take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t look so bad, you’re just not as rich or fancy and the dress you’re wearing might have been on sale last week at Zara, but no one has to know that, right?

You could never reach Hoseok’s level of fashion. Not even if you wanted to.

You don’t want to sit down and wrinkle your dress, so you walk around the fancy room at the Cosmopolitan and stop at the window. Of course, Hoseok booked rooms with a view even though they charge an extra who-knows-how-many-dollars for that, but it ain’t a problem for him.

The sun is setting now, giving tourists a little break from the burning hot temperatures that make everyone avoid the streets as much as they can. To be honest, even at night, the walk between hotel to hotel is just one excruciating experience until you can finally feel the air con on your skin again. The walk you took yesterday showed you that.

Yesterday, however, you both decided to stay away from gambling and just get to know the hotels as if they are freaking museums. Las Vegas doesn’t offer much to do if you’re not into hotels that look like the owner just had a theme in mind and an endless amount of money to realize their vision. So, yeah, visiting hotels is a top notch, must-see tourist attraction. Go figure.

Since you didn’t gamble yesterday, today’s the day. While you were enjoying the hotel pools this afternoon, Hoseok has walked you through every single thing he wants to do tonight. And he has a very meticulous plan.

First, you have to dress up to look fancy. Second, you are going to play blackjack so he can finally realize his dream of looking like he is in a movie. Third, you have to have dinner somewhere to balance the alcohol out. And then, finally, you are going to whatever party is closest to you.

Yeah, sounds like a plan.

Another seven minutes pass and you finally get a reply.

I’m outside your door.

You quickly put your shoes on and grab your purse, checking yourself in the mirror again before opening the door. Hoseok sure is there in all his glory looking at his phone as if nothing is happening, nothing at all.

“You wanna kill someone today?” You ask, eyeing him up and down. He’s wearing red dress pants with a simple white shirt. Come on. “You were right to book two separate rooms for us, I don’t think you’re planning on coming back alone tonight.”

He finally looks up from his phone and laughs lightly after inspecting your choice of clothes. “You say that as if I’m the only one trying to take an advantage of that. You look stunning. Wanna get a drink?”

Your first stop is at one of the many hotel bars. Hoseok quickly orders two drinks from the menu without thinking twice.

“Something light for starters,” he says with a smile as he passes the Cosmopolitan glass to you.

“Oh, you think you’re so funny. Ordering Cosmopolitans at the Cosmopolitan,” you say, raising your glass to touch his. “This is going to be a good night.”

“The best. And hopefully my liver will stand the alcohol levels and you won’t have to drag me back to my room,” Hoseok says, sipping the drink slowly.

“Wouldn’t be too hopeful if I were you.” You know Hoseok and, honestly, the expectations are extremely low. “You were always a lightweight drinker. That shit doesn’t change because you’re in Vegas, you know?”

“I don’t care. What I want today is stop at every single hotel and have a drink and gamble a bit, have some fun!” Hoseok excitedly shakes your arm with his free hand.

“Sure, what’s the worst that could happen?” You ask yourself rhetorically.

As you predicted, Hoseok doesn’t go too far before he’s needing your help to walk. You’re in tiny heels and, despite being tiny, they’re still heels and adding half of his body weight to the mix isn’t helping in anyway. 

You’re inside the ARIA Hotel on your third drink of the night when you first notice that Hoseok isn’t as sharp as he thinks he is to play blackjack. He’s finally living his dream movie life, but he has switched his light Cosmopolitan for Blue Label and you know things aren’t looking up.

If there’s one thing you have to give it to him, though, is that it really feels like a movie. Everything around you looks straight out of a James Bond set, even the young, good looking lady who’s dealing the cards could easily be casted as a Bond girl. But then again, you realize with a scoff, you’re the one standing behind Hoseok’s high designer stool with an eye on his drink so he doesn’t order another one. You’re the Bond girl.

When you get to Park MGM, it’s time to stop. Hoseok is looking sad as fuck as he usually does when he’s too drunk to function and you know he won’t protest if you say he’s had enough. You sit him down on a table at Eataly and leave him for a moment to buy a bottle of water.

“There you go. Drink it up,” you order, handing him the already opened bottle. “You told me I wouldn’t have to drag your ass back to the hotel, but here we are.”

“I never said that.” He takes a break from drinking the water to look at you while you move to sit in front of him. “I said I was hopeful my liver would endure such a challenge.”

“But it didn’t.”

“No, it didn’t.”

You stay silent for a few minutes until the water bottle is empty and Hoseok is using the droplets outside the plastic bottle to wet the back of his neck. He looks wasted and cute at the same time. How is that even possible?

“How about eating something, huh?” You suggest. It’s still early in the night and people are having dinner all around you. The smell of food in this place is driving you mad. “Does pizza sound good?”

Hoseok nods and moves his hands to get his wallet from his back pocket. He hands you the credit card he’s been using all night. “The pin number is your four initials.”

You look at him with raised eyebrows. That’s his pin number?

“Don’t look at me like that, it was the first thing that crossed my mind and you know I’m not good remembering numbers.”

You blink twice and say nothing before walking towards the pizza place, ordering two slices of the best looking one on display. Soon, you’re back at the table and handing Hoseok’s slice. You both eat in silence. 

It seems like he’s coming back to his senses and normal self after eating. For good measure, you order a shot of espresso and something sweet for him to eat from the coffee shop nearby. That should do the trick.

“Are you feeling better?” You ask after a long while. Hoseok is no longer supporting himself on his elbows or looking miserable. He nods. “Good enough so I don’t really have to drag you around?”

He nods again with a shy smile. “Sorry.”

“You wanna party or go back to the hotel? It’s only 11,” you say, reaching for his wrist to check the time on his watch. “You said you wanted to party, but if I’m being honest with you… My feet are killing me.”

“We can order an Uber to go back,” he suggests with a shrug. “I feel tired now, I wanna go to bed.”

“Well if it isn’t my baby showing up again,” you joke, standing up and offering your hand to help him out. “Come on, let’s go back.”

The Uber ride is silent and quick. It’s really such a lazy thing to do, getting a car for such a short ride, but your feet really thanked you for that. 

When you arrive at the hotel, you both go straight to the elevator area and press the button to go up. It feels like an eternity passes before one of the many elevators arrives. You wait for a group of friends to exit before you enter. The door closes and you feel yourself back up until you hit the wall. Hoseok does the same. 

“Sorry for being the drunk friend all the time,” he apologizes. “I feel like you can never enjoy yourself when you know I’m gonna make a mess.”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m used to it.”

The elevator arrives at the 39th floor and you both exit quietly, walking in the direction of your rooms. Looking at Hoseok to your right, you wave him goodnight before opening the door and entering the room with a puff – you just need to be out of those heels.

Soon after, there’s a light knock at the door. 

“Hey,” you greet Hoseok, who’s standing a little taller now that you don’t have your shoes on anymore. “What are you doing?”

“I have to ask you something,” he says with a weird I was drunk five minutes ago and all of a sudden feel sober look. “What would you say if I kissed you right now?”

Is he really asking that? What the fuck?

“What?”

“Fuck it.”

Hoseok closes the gap between your bodies in half a second, reaching for your face with his hands. It’s not romantic or slow or delicate, it’s just intense. 

It’s also rushed. It ends too quickly.

When you open your eyes, you want to say something, but your body needs time to catch a breath. What just happened? What the hell is going on? Your brain is panicking.

“Sorry,” Hoseok starts with a low voice. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.”

He lets go of you completely and you can almost feel your body have a physical reaction to that. You want more? What the fuck?

He takes a step backwards to go back to his room, but you can’t just let him go like that. You have to do something. Do something!

“Maybe you should have,” you repeat his words, your voice just above a whisper. “I- I don’t know what else to say.”

The only thing you can do now is laugh. That is your only reaction, almost like a self-defense mechanism when awkward things happen. 

“Good. I’m going back to my room now.” He’s smiling too, taking backwards steps so he doesn’t have to turn his back to you. “Breakfast tomorrow at 9?”

“Sure,” you agree, nodding your head with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Cool. I’ll try not to be late.”

“I’m not counting on it.”

“Sleep well,” he says with a smile and finally turns to get inside his room. 

How am I supposed to sleep after this?

Read more ›› masterlist

[pikapeppa]

Felassan/f!Lavellan: Special

Chapter 15 of The Love That Grows From Violence (Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is up on AO3!

In which I make use of a favourite trope shut up I don’t overuse this: sparring-to-sex. Well, almost sex.

~6500 words; read on AO3 instead. 

********************

Felassan sighed as he cut a slice of breakfast casserole for Tamaris. “Does it usually rain this much in Kirkwall?”

“You asked me that yesterday,” she reminded him.

He made a little grimace. “I did, didn’t I? Fenedhis, I’m getting boring, talking about the rain.” He placed a steaming piece of casserole on her plate and started cutting one for himself, and she eyed him sympathetically. 

It had been pouring rain for the past three days straight, with little reprieve. Even when the rain lessened to a drizzle rather than a sheeting downpour, it hadn’t been light enough for them to eat their meals on the roof or even smoke a joint, and Felassan seemed to be having a hard time with the weather-imposed indoors time. 

“You’re not boring, you’re bored,” she said. “There’s a big difference.” She took a bite of her breakfast. The casserole he’d made was like a savoury bread pudding, packed with roasted mushrooms and sausage and seasoned with rosemary, and as always with Felassan’s cooking, she savoured the melding of flavours on her tongue before swallowing. 

Felassan chuckled. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not bored. How could I be bored with such charming company?”

She rolled her eyes in amusement. “Okay, not bored, then. You’re having cabin fever. We’ll spend the whole day on the roof as soon as the rain stops.”

“That’s a pleasant thought,” he said. “I wonder if I’m able yet to cast the spell that’ll protect us from sunburn?”

She looked up with interest. “There’s a spell for that?”

“There is, yes,” he said. “It’s a subtle kind of sustained barrier. There’s a similar one for repelling rain, as well.” He sat beside her and picked up his fork. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to cast that spell right now.”

He was smiling, but the way he was talking about the rain was starting to worry her. He had been acting more restless and fidgety as the rainy days went on, but she hadn’t realized that he felt this strongly about being cooped up indoors. 

“Do you want to practice that rain-repelling spell after breakfast instead of sparring with me?” she asked. 

“Absolutely not,” he said immediately. “And miss the chance to make you sweat? Never.”

She scoffed at his wicked smile. A provocative reply was sitting right at the tip of her tongue, and she debated with herself before finally deciding to say it. 

“There are other ways of making me sweat, you know,” she said.

His face lit up with interest. “I’m very well aware, avise. Are you offering to let me exercise some of them?”

She smirked and toyed idly with her fork. “Maybe,” she said. In truth, the past three days had been difficult for Tamaris as well, for different reasons. Felassan’s increasing impatience with the weather was translating into their carnal clinches in a way that she was finding especially arousing. His kisses were more urgent than usual and his fingers more eager as they explored her body through her clothes, and his breathing was more growly and desperate as it ghosted across her ear. It was making it harder for her to resist him, and yesterday she had very nearly begged him to fuck her while they were grinding together on the library floor. 

Yet somehow she’d resisted, keeping the desperate plea to herself instead of letting it loose. And late last night as she lay in bed, after bringing herself to a somewhat unsatisfying climax while thinking about Felassan’s blazing violet eyes, she started to realize why she, at least, was delaying the sex that they both so obviously wanted. 

The reason was this: Tamaris wasn’t good at words the way Felassan was. She was only just getting used to telling him the more sensitive parts of her past, and she still had a particularly hard time telling him how she felt about him, especially as her feelings continued to bloom in his warm and playful presence. He was just… 

There was just something about him that was so special. Tamaris had never had a companion she enjoyed spending this much time around. She liked her friends from the Inquisition, of course, and she had long grown accustomed to spending extended periods of time around each of them, but that didn’t mean she’d always enjoyed all the enforced togetherness. 

In contrast, she had always enjoyed being around Solas – when he wasn’t angry, at least. But to be bluntly honest, being with Solas had never been all that fun. Intellectually stimulating, yes. Physically stimulating, absolutely. But fun? Not particularly, or not often. Not that that was Solas’s fault by any means; Tamaris was hardly a barrel of laughs herself, and her relationship with Solas had always been more about shared understanding than shared laughter. 

But when Tamaris was with Felassan… 

No one made her laugh the way Felassan did. She’d never connected so quickly with anyone the way she had with Felassan. She’d never had anyone else that she so enjoyed just sitting around and talking with – just talking about everything and nothing, teasing each other and making stupid clever remarks. He was smart and sharp and thoughtful and funny, and… He was special. He was special to her — more special than she had the words or the courage to admit. 

So somewhere in her weird and wounded mind, Tamaris was starting to think that if she delayed the sex until the time was a little more… well, special than their usual post-training necking, then maybe he’d understand how she felt about him without her having to find the balls to say it. 

It was a convoluted idea, and she was of half a mind to just tell Felassan that this was why she hadn’t yet asked him to fuck her again. But that would involve telling him in detail how she felt, and she just… her heart still quailed at the thought of putting so much on the line just yet.  

Felassan was still smiling wickedly at her. She smiled back awkwardly and dropped her gaze to her plate. 

He chuckled and picked up his fork. “Well, anytime you want me to make you sweat, all you have to do is say the word.” 

She took another bite of her food and mumbled something indistinct, both grateful for his lack of pressure and annoyed at herself in equal measure. They spent the rest of the meal discussing Varric and Cassandra and the fact that Varric had written a sequel to Swords and Shields just for her, and by the time Tamaris was washing the dishes, Felassan had come to the conclusion that Varric and Cassandra were secretly in love and had simply failed to admit their feelings to each other. 

Tamaris shook her head. “No. It’s not possible.”

“Not possible?” Felassan said. “That’s a strong statement from someone who’s seen the range of bizarre things that you have.”

She snorted a laugh at this. “Okay, maybe not impossible, but really unlikely.”

He leaned against the counter beside her and folded his arms. “Explain.”

She rinsed a plate and propped it in the dish drainer. “Honestly, the main reason is that Varric is…” She paused before she could tell him about Varric and Bianca. For all that Varric was good at coaxing out people’s secrets, he was a very private person himself. It wasn’t Tamaris’s place to tell Felassan about his affair with Bianca. 

“He’s not interested in having a relationship,” she said finally.

“Because of Bianca?” Felassan said.

Tamaris’s jaw dropped. “How — how do you know about her?”

He grinned. “I don’t. Or I didn’t, until you just confirmed it now.”

She gaped at him. “Wha— but where — how did you know to ask about that?”

“The crossbow named Bianca,” Felassan said. “He mentions it in This Shit Is Weird. It had to be named after someone important.” He shrugged casually. “People don’t usually name their favoured weapons after random strangers, after all.”

Tamaris stared at him for another second, then closed her mouth and started washing another pan. Felassan titled his head curiously. “What’s the story there, then?” he asked. “Not unrequited love; that fades eventually with nothing to supply it. A wife who passed away, perhaps?”

Tamaris pursed her lips, and Felassan nodded. “Ah. Something that’s still ongoing, then. An affair that never petered out, probably. That would make a great deal of sense.” 

She smacked him with her soapy sponge. “Stop that! Stop being a spy at me!”

He flinched away from her sponge and laughed. “I can’t help it, avise. It’s in my nature. But if it makes you feel better, I’m not going to tell anyone.”

She scowled at his shit-eating grin, then went back to scrubbing the pan with more vigour. “Well, don’t go talking to Varric about it. He’ll think I told you.”

“My lips are sealed,” he said. “But really, there is immense potential for a relationship between Varric and Cassandra. She loves romance, he wrote her a romance novel, they exchange letters frequently…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You should invite her to come stay here. We could invite Varric over for dinner, then sit back and watch how things play out. It would be immensely entertaining.”

Tamaris couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You are not going to play matchmaker for Varric and Cassandra.”

“Why not?” he said with a grin. “You don’t think I could?”

She tsked. “That’s not the point,” she said. Then she turned to face him and propped one fist on her hip. “Look, what makes you think you’re such an expert on love, anyway?”

“I know a great deal about love,” he said complacently. “I’m a great observer of it, after all.”

She wrinkled her nose and started drying the dishes with a towel. “Are you telling me you’re a secret pervert who watches through people’s windows or something?”

He let out a lovely rolling laugh. “No, felasil’ain. I was a spy, remember, and a very good one. And secrets of the heart are the easiest to exploit.”

She went still at this. “What do you mean?”

“Some of the most important information a spy can collect is the bonds between people,” he said. “Who is married or partnered to whom, who is sleeping with whom, how people are related, who has children and who they have children with…” He shrugged and folded his arms once more. “If you know who a person loves, you know their greatest weaknesses.”

She stared at him. A cold sort of ache was stealing through her chest. “Is that really how you feel?”

“It’s not how I feel. It’s the simple truth,” he said. He raised an eyebrow. “Your spymaster must have told you this if she is worth her salt.”

“I mean, I guess she did,” Tamaris said blankly. “But that’s Leliana. She’s… terrifying in a quiet kind of way.”

He widened his eyes. “And I’m not? That hurts.”

She didn’t laugh. She stared at him in bemusement, and he gave her a little half-smile. “Go on, speak your mind. I can take it.”

She shook her head slightly. “I just… How are you not more cynical?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

She put the towel on the counter. “If you spent years and years exploiting people’s relationships as weaknesses, how are you so…” How are you so open to falling in love with me? she wondered, but she couldn’t quite get the words out. 

She didn’t need to, however; Felassan’s expression softened slightly, like he understood what she was trying to say. “Just because a relationship can be exploited doesn’t mean the relationship is unhealthy or tawdry,” he said. “Some of the most easily exploited bonds are the ones that are most true. No one is more easily manipulated than a person who truly loves another.” 

She stared at him, struck dumb by the cold brutality of his words. He gave her a half-smile and took over drying the dishes. “Try not to disdain me too much, avise. I’ve done many things in the service of a better world, and I don’t regret them. This is just one of many.”

She studied him for a moment longer, then suddenly hugged him around the waist.

He stiffened with surprise for a second, then carefully draped his arm around her. “What’s this for?” he said softly. “Not that I’m complaining.”

She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry you had to do that,” she mumbled. “That sounds… it sounds fucking awful.”

He squeezed her shoulder soothingly. “You have no need to feel sorry for me. Nothing I did as a spy for Fen’Harel was against my will. Against my better judgment at times, perhaps, but never against my will.” He shrugged. “Some things need to be burned down. Some of the most beautiful flowers are those that grow from the ashes that which has burnt away.”

She pressed her lips together. Her throat was thickening with tears for some reason, and she couldn’t decide whether they were for Felassan or for the world he’d lost, or for the simple fact that she could understand his point, horrible though it was.

She held him tightly for a moment longer, then abruptly released him and started to leave the kitchen. “I’ll be in the library. When you’re—”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. “Tamaris.”

He was gazing at her very intensely, and she swallowed hard before speaking. “Yeah?”

“There are some things I would never exploit,” he said.

She frowned slightly. “What do you…” She trailed off with a jolt. He meant… did he mean her?

Her eyes widened. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he would try to use her feelings against her. “I know that,” she said. “I know you wouldn’t… I know.” 

“Do you?” he said quietly. But she knew what he really meant. Did she believe it? 

“Yes, I… I do,” she said. And to her great surprise, she actually did.

They stared at each other for a moment longer. Then Felassan smiled and released her hand. “I’ll see you in the library when I’m done with these,” he said.

Tamaris nodded, then went to the library and sat on the rug. For a minute she just sat there staring vacantly at the bookshelves, stunned by the fact that she hadn’t even thought of the possibility that Felassan would use her feelings for him as leverage. What did that mean, that she hadn’t thought of it? Did it mean she was being stupid and incautious by having feelings for him? If a master spy told her that love was a weakness, then she should probably listen, shouldn’t she?

Or did her lack of suspicion just mean that she was on her way to being cured of the wound that Solas had dealt her? 

A few minutes later, Felassan padded into the library with a smile. “Ready to fight?” 

She looked up, then nodded and rose to her feet. As always, they started with a little warm-up where both of them practiced casting some barriers, then moved onto Felassan throwing ice at Tamaris’s barriers to practice his attack strength. By the time they were warmed up and ready to really start sparring, Tamaris already had a light sheen of sweat along her hairline and the back of her neck.

She wiped her brow, and Felassan smiled. “I told you I would make you sweat.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I always sweat when we do this. Besides, you’re sweating too.” 

He shot her a roguish grin, then twisted his wrist and produced a small swirling cloud of ice that hovered over his palm. “Ready?” 

She nodded and pulled a practice dagger — also known as a golden dinner knife — from the back of her belt. “Go,” she said.

He flicked his wrist and threw the ice at her. She rolled toward him to dodge it and narrowly dodged another iceball, then brought the knife toward Felassan’s thigh. 

The knife glanced off of his barrier — a barrier he’d quickly raised a mere second before her strike. By the time she had the knife drawn back once more to strike, he had skipped a couple of meters away from her, and another ball of ice was glittering over his open palm. 

She exhaled sharply and cast a barrier, then rushed him at the same moment that he threw the ice. A second later, she was trying to push the knife toward his neck while his ice-encrusted hand gripped her wrist to hold her back.

She gritted her teeth and tried to withstand the cold, but it was too much; she finally gasped in pain and dropped the knife, and Felassan released his breath in a heavy sigh. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded and idly rubbed her chilled wrist, then shot him a wry smile. “If I’d come at you with my left hand, you’d be a dead man.”

“Are you holding back on me, then?” he asked. “Come at me with that lovely metal hand. Don’t be shy.”

She shrugged and picked up the knife in her left hand. “Fine. Just remember you asked for it.” She twirled the knife over her metal fingers, then rushed him suddenly. 

Felassan lashed out with a sustained blast of ice, but Tamaris repelled it with her barrier and brought the knife toward his belly in a swift strike, and they both froze; her knife was pressed against his abs, but his frozen hand was wrapped around her throat.

She stopped breathing. Her eyes darted up to his face, and his frozen hand instantly warmed back to a normal temperature. But he didn’t let her go, and she didn’t step away.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

He sounded slightly breathless, and his chest was rising and falling heavily. She swallowed hard. “I’ll tell you if you hurt me,” she panted. “Otherwise, you can assume I’m fine.”

“Good,” he said. His thumb drifted slowly along the edge of her jaw.

A ripple of heat bloomed low in her belly, and she gasped. Then she stepped away from him. “Ready?” she breathed.

He smiled at her — a slow and rather predatory smile. “Always.”

She grinned at him, and they continued to spar for a while longer. They were quite well-matched, considering that they were both training outside of their comfort zones: Felassan would usually have shirked close-quarters combat, and Tamaris would usually have stuck to stealth tactics that would prevent her from being a target of magical attacks. As a consequence, their sparring sessions were both challenging and satisfying. Aside from the obvious benefit of getting Felassan to practice his magical control while Tamaris boosted her barriers, they were both practicing forms of combat that neither of them was particularly well-versed in, and Tamaris was certain that the practice would do them good in the future. 

Twenty minutes later, both of them were sweating and panting for breath, and Tamaris had bested Felassan just over half of the time. They took a brief break to drink some water, and Tamaris admired the sheen of sweat on Felassan’s collarbones and the notch at the base of his throat while he gulped down a goblet of water.

He lowered the goblet and looked at her, and a knowing smile turned up the corners of his lips. Before he could call her out for staring, she hastily spoke. “I think you should start practicing other kinds of attacks soon,” she said. “Fire or lightning.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“You have to do it eventually,” she reasoned. “If anything goes up in flames, you can just put it out with ice.”

His eyebrows creased. “I’m more concerned about injuring you inadvertently.”

She shrugged. “I can heal minor wounds, no problem. Besides, don’t you have that extra-potent royal elfroot salve for heavy-duty wounds and burns?”

He huffed in amusement. “I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to use it on you.”

She titled her head playfully. “You’re insulting me by assuming you’ll actually land a hit.”

He grinned at her, then shrugged and put the goblet down. “We can’t have that. Fine, you win. I’ll start practicing with the fire and lightning tomorrow. Are you ready to continue with the ice for now?” He pulled up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, and Tamaris openly stared at the cut lines of his abs. 

He dropped his shirt back into place, then tilted his head. “Tamaris,” he said drolly.

She snapped her eyes up to his face. “What?” she said defensively.

He sauntered toward her in an annoyingly confident way. “Irritable,” he remarked. “You must be horny.”

“You are,” she retorted, very cleverly. She pulled the dinner knife from her belt and twirled it over the fingers of her real hand. 

He chuckled and reached for her chin. Tamaris knocked his hand away with her prosthetic hand and brought the knife up toward his throat.

To her surprise, he swiftly brought his other hand up and blocked her strike, then grabbed her right wrist and pulled her closer. Caught off-guard and off-balance, she stumbled into his chest.

She braced her metal hand against his abs, and he stroked her chin with his thumb. “I never said I wasn’t,” he murmured. 

She stared up at him, breathless with desire and snared by the brilliant heat in his eyes. He smelled so good, like sleep and soap and the sweet masculine musk of sweat, and his lips were a breath away from hers, and… fuck, he wasn’t wrong. She was terribly horny. 

But they’d only been training for less than an hour. They usually went for at least two hours before taking a break to do… other things. Very reluctantly, she stepped away from him. “Come on, we can go a little longer—”

He pulled her back against his chest and kissed her, and her lips instantly melted open for him with a little whimper of pleasure and surprise. His arm was curled tightly around her waist to hold her close, and Tamaris moaned into his lips as the hard ridge of his erection pressed into her belly through their clothes.

He released her wrist to cradle her neck instead, and Tamaris blissfully melted into him. A few seconds later, however, he froze.

He smiled slowly against her lips. “You fight dirty.”

Sure enough, she had the dinner knife pressed to his belly. “You started it,” she whispered. 

His smile widened, and he loosened his arm around her waist so she could step away. “All right,” he said. “I understand the rules now.”

“Oh really?” she said playfully. “What rules are those?”

“There aren’t any,” he said, and he grabbed for her. 

She dodged away from him and barked out a laugh. “Felassan! We need to train!”

“We are training,” he said, and he conjured another ball of ice. “But you’d better not let me catch you if you want to keep this up.” 

Suddenly, the game was twisted on its head: Felassan was the one in pursuit while Tamaris tried to repel his attacks and keep him at a distance. She managed to keep him back for a good ten minutes, but her lack of stamina for barriers was ultimately her downfall; Felassan hit her shoulder with a small blast of ice, and she stumbled and fell onto her butt with an oomph.

An instant later, he was on his knees in front of her and tenderly smoothing his hand along her arm. “Fenedhis. Are you hurt? Is it—?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she panted. “It’s nothing.”

He smoothed his palm over her shoulder and cradled her neck in his palm. “Are you sure?”

“I — yes, I’m sure,” she said breathlessly. He was so close to her now, but everything about him was just making her want him even closer. The warmth of his palm on her sweat-laced neck and the intensity of his violet eyes, and gods, the smell of his skin… 

She licked her lips, and Felassan’s face lifted into a heated smile. “I think this means I won this round,” he said. 

She scoffed. “Uh-huh. Are you going to gloat about it now?” 

“Not at all,” he said. “But now that I struck you down...” He shifted closer on his knees and brushed his thumb along the tendon in her neck. 

A shiver of pleasure ran down the side of her throat. She lifted her chin to grant him easier access to her neck, and he chuckled. “Should I accept this as your willing surrender?” he asked.

“You talk too much,” she complained breathily. Then she gasped as his lips brushed over the side of her neck. 

He kissed her neck very gently, soft open-mouthed kisses with just a hint of tongue, and Tamaris abruptly gave up pretending that she had any lingering interest in sparring. She grabbed his shirt and pulled, wanting him to kiss her neck with more teeth and tongue and pressure, but he continued the torturously gentle tease of his mouth along the side of her throat.

“Felassan,” she whined. 

“Yes, Tamaris?” he murmured. He lapped at her neck with tiny teasing flicks of his tongue, then grazed her neck very gently with his teeth.

She panted and tugged at his shirt. “More,” she said bluntly. 

He chuckled, then slid his hand over her waist and pulled on her hip. “Come here, then.”

She hastily followed the pull of his hand, and a second later she was straddling him. She tilted her hips down to try and meet the hardness between his legs while also craning her neck to the side so he would kiss her neck some more, and Felassan obliged her with a firm open-mouthed kiss against the side of her throat. His hands were roaming firmly over her body, his fingers sliding over her thighs and hips and up inside the back of her shirt to clench against her shoulder blades, and Tamaris twisted her fingers in his shirt and stroked his neck as he lavished her neck with kisses.

He nipped her neck, then started sucking on her sweat-laced skin, and she burst out a little cry at the pressure of his mouth. “Yes,” she gasped, and she twisted her hips down to rub more firmly against his groin.

He lifted his face with a gasp, then groaned and bucked his hips to meet her, and then they were moving together in an uncoordinated and torturous bump-and-grind as they tried to find some satisfaction through their clothes. 

Felassan’s arm was like a steel band around her waist, and his breath was hot against her sternum. He braced himself with one hand on the floor to try and lift himself more firmly against her, but a second later he burst out a frustrated groan. 

“Ar isala mithelma,” he moaned. He licked her collarbone, and Tamaris gasped and clenched her fingers against his neck; he was pulling at the neckline of her shirt and licking the skin below her collarbone now, and his mouth was close enough to the upper swell of her breast that it was forcing a dizzying surge of anticipation to pool between her legs.

He moaned again and lowered his face to nuzzle her breast through her shirt, and Tamaris made a snap decision: she abruptly shifted away from him.

He looked up at her in surprise. “What’s wr–?” Then he broke off with a gasp: Tamaris was straddling one of his legs now instead of his lap, and she was pulling eagerly at the button fly of his loose breeches. 

His eyes flicked feverishly from her face to her hands and back, and another dizzying pulse of want bloomed low in her belly; his eyes were glowing faintly with magic now. He squeezed her arm. “Tamaris,” he panted. “Are you–”

“No, no,” she said hastily as she pulled on his fly. “I don’t – I’m not going to fuck you. I just want to…” She trailed off distractedly and stared at his cock; it was a hard rise thrusting eagerly up from the opening in his breeches, and there was a bead of moisture at the tip.

She smoothed her thumb over the head of his cock and sucked his primal flavour off of her thumb, and Felassan eagerly bucked his hips. “You are going to be the end of me,” he groaned.

She smiled at him, but she couldn't think of a clever reply; she was too distracted by how beautiful he was, and it wasn't just his good looks that she was admiring. It was how obviously desperate he was. His face was twisted with desire, his eyes glowing and his ears flushed pink and his lips parted as he tried to catch his breath. He was so desperate, desperate her despite her twisted wounds, and these three days of rain-imposed confinement had been so hard on him, and she just… he was so fucking special, and Tamaris wanted to make him feel good.

She wrapped her fist around his cock and squeezed, and Felassan made the most wonderful guttural sound of pleasure. Encouraged by his enjoyment, she stroked his cock for a moment, then quickly spat into her palm and continued stroking him more smoothly.

He moaned and twined his fingers in the hair at her nape, then pulled her close for a kiss, and Tamaris eagerly accepted the twisting warmth of his tongue as she stroked his cock. In a matter of short minutes, he was shifting restlessly beneath her and the thick length of his shaft was growing even stiffer beneath her palm, and when he broke their kiss to breathe erratically against her lips, she knew he was close. 

“Do you want to come in my mouth?” she asked.

To her mild surprise, he shook his head. “No,” he breathed. “No, kiss me. Tamaris, kiss me, ah–”

She kissed him hard. An instant later, he was clasping her neck and her hair in both hands and moaning uninhibitedly into her mouth as his seed spurted hotly over her hand. 

She delved her tongue into his mouth and squeezed his pulsing cock. He shuddered beneath her and dragged both of his hands through her hair, and the firm feel of his fingers on her scalp sent an icy-hot wave of pleasure from the crown of her head down the back of her neck. 

They kissed hungrily until his shuddering grew still. Then Tamaris gently broke their kiss and glanced down at his crotch. 

She winced at the mess; his climax was most evident on his shirt and breeches, but a little bit had spattered the hem of her shirt as well. 

“Fuck. Guess we’ll need to do laundry,” she said. She wiped her hand on his shirt and started shifting off of his leg.

He banded his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Laundry?” he said. “You’re thinking about laundry right now?”

His voice was husky with pleasure and even more vibrant with laughter. She smiled and patted his shoulders. “Yep. I’m thinking about laundry,” she teased. “Do you want to help me with it, or–”

He slid his fingers under the hem of her shirt to splay on her belly, and she broke off with a gasp. His fingers were moving steadily up over her ribs, and when his thumb brushed over the cup of her bra, she mewled and dug her fingers into his shoulders. 

He chuckled softly. “What I want, avise, is to reciprocate. If you’ll allow it.”

She curled her hips toward him. “Y-you don’t have to,” she stammered. “That’s not why I…” She trailed off distractedly as his fingers slipped back down over her belly to hook into the drawstring waistband of her pants.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to,” he murmured. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I deeply enjoy watching you squirm.”

She burst out a breathless little laugh. “Smug asshole.”

“I’ll allow your insult since you made me come so well,” he said. He gestured at her pants. “May I?”

She nodded eagerly, and Felassan deftly loosened the drawstring of her pants. “Rise up,” he told her. 

She lifted herself higher on her knees. Felassan angled his wrist and started sliding his hand into her pants, and Tamaris held her breath as his fingers slipped down beneath her navel, then just above her sex, then–

He pressed his middle finger into her slippery cleft, and she twisted her fingers in his shirt and mewled with pleasure. He was caressing the swollen bud of her clit with careful little strokes, and the pressure and rhythm of his finger was so perfect that she didn’t even want to move her hips for fear of spoiling what he was doing so well.

Felassan exhaled shakily and looked up at her, and if possible, her lust throbbed even higher; his eyes were bright with a hot amethyst glow, and he somehow looked just as aroused now as when she was stroking his cock. He slid his fingers a little deeper into her pants and caressed her folds, and when she jerked her hips and moaned, he exhaled hard. 

“You feel incredible,” he rasped. “Like a wet dream come true.”

She laughed shakily at his compliment. “You don’t have dreams, thanks to your fancy tea.”

“And I’m glad for that,” he said with a grin. “This reality is so much better.” He adjusted the angle of his hand to continue stroking her clit, and Tamaris released a breathy moan and clutched his shoulders. He breathed hard as he petted her clit, and Tamaris blissfully tilted her head back so his breath would drift hotly across her neck.

His nose brushed over her exposed sternum, and she eagerly arched her chest toward him. He hummed with pleasure, and without stopping the perfect rhythm of his fingers, he nuzzled her breast and gently bit her nipple through her shirt and bra. 

“Fuck,” she whined, and she cradled his head in her hands. He growled and continued trying to bite her nipple through her clothes, but his attempts were both arousing and frustrating thanks to her fucking clothes, and his finger was so persistent and smooth between her legs and it felt so fucking good, fuck–

She came with a guttural cry and dug her fingers into his neck, and Felassan let out a breathy little laugh. “Good girl,” he crooned.

To her surprise, his words and his smooth voice lifted a sudden jolt of excitement between her legs, kicking her climax even higher. She whimpered wordlessly, unable to reply for the pleasure that was pulsing in her throat. 

When she could open her eyes again, she twisted his ear. “I told you not to call me that,” she scolded. 

He laughed and batted at her hand. “I think you liked it.”

“I did not,” she retorted, but she was smiling like a fucking idiot, and this only made Felassan laugh harder. 

He carefully pulled his hand out of her pants, running his finger firmly along the length of her slippery cleft as he did, and Tamaris gasped as the stroke of his finger lifted a fresh wave of lust through her just-sated body. 

He showed her his lust-slicked fingers. “Whether you liked it or not, this is very good,” he purred. He dipped his middle finger into his mouth and sucked, and Tamaris gaped stupidly at him as he licked her nectar from his fingers. When his fingers were clean, he cupped her neck in his palm and pulled her close for a kiss, and the taste of her arousal on his lips only made her more riled up.

She whimpered and pressed her fingers into his abs, but Felassan peeled away from her lips after just a few blissful seconds. Then he patted her bum casually. “Come on, avise. We should get changed. I’ve been told that there’s very important laundry to do.” He slid out from beneath her and stood up, and Tamaris stared at him as he sauntered out of the library. 

She sat there on the floor throbbing with unfulfilled lust for a few seconds, then let out an incredulous little laugh and flopped onto her back. Fucking Felassan, she thought with a mixture of amusement and frustration. He knew exactly what he was doing when he left her in this state, the smug bastard. 

She closed her eyes and sighed, feeling oddly content despite the unfulfilled pulse of want that was still coursing through her body. Then Felassan’s voice rang out from the upper floor. “Tamaris!” 

She instantly sat upright. He didn’t sound upset, but why was he yelling? “What?” she called back. “What’s wrong?” 

“Come up here!” he yelled.

Alarmed now, she rose to her feet and bolted out of the library. She skidded through the main room and ran up the stairs, intent on heading to his room, but as she passed her bedroom door, she stumbled to a stop. 

Felassan was in her room and standing at the window. She stepped into her room and strode toward him. “What?” she said urgently. “What’s going on?”

He beamed at her, and the boyish excitement in his face stole her breath for a moment. “The rain has stopped,” he said. 

She raised her eyebrows. “Actually stopped?” she said. “Not just drizzling?” She sidled up to the window and looked outside; sure enough, it had finally stopped raining, and there was even a feeble beam of sunlight illuminating the quiet alley below. 

“Come to the roof with me,” Felassan said, and he started climbing out of the window. 

“Hang on, but – you didn’t change,” she protested. He was still wearing the same messy clothes from their tryst in the library.

He shot her a cheeky grin. “I doubt anyone will notice. Besides, nobody ever looks up, remember?”

Her heart did a little flip at the reminder of the first day they’d met. She scoffed, but Felassan was already disappearing through the window. 

She shook her head in exasperation, but she couldn’t blame him for wanting to spend some time on the roof after three long days of being stuck indoors. Besides, it would be nice to get some fresh rain-scented air, even if it was still city air. 

With that pleasant thought, Tamaris slid out of the window to join him. 

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (20) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: hey hey! thank u so much if u gave a lil note or sent a bit of love my way for ch19. it was really my fav to write so far so i’m so glad it resonated with at least somebody!! there is only one more chapter to this whole fic after this and i’m emosh. after the rollercoaster ride we’ve all been on, i hope u enjoy this fun lil chapter as much as i loved writing it!

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Brooke, Nina, Silky and Vanjie were locked in the library, and Brooke and Vanessa finally talked things out like adults.

this chapter: exams are over, dissertations are submitted, degree classifications are being allocated and the girls are nervously waiting for adult life to hit them like a freight train. what better way to avoid thinking about responsibilities than to go to the beach?

***

The day had started, as most of Scarlet’s days often do, with a message to the group chat.

Well, no, that was a bit of a lie. Scarlet’s day had started with her making breakfast, talking to her Mums over facetime as she ate it, and reassuring them that no, she hadn’t found out her degree classification yet and when she did they’d be the first to know. It was hard beginning each day with her heart in her mouth, frantically checking her phone to see if the website had been updated and then trying to relax when she found out it hadn’t been. Scarlet tried not to think too much about it, post-Uni life that is, but with each passing day it became an unignorable fact that she had to face. Graduation season was a mere month away and Scarlet didn’t want to face it but she had to, because the reality was that Scarlet didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. Not a single clue. Gone were the days of six-year-old Scarlet, who spent the mornings being an actress with a short break at lunchtime to develop her career in the veterinary sector and finishing the day off creating new play-dough recipes for her Michelin-star restaurant. High school had been so good at pushing everyone into a university-shaped mold but now that Scarlet had completed her three years there she felt a little like the aquarium fish in Finding Nemo once they had escaped their glass box: stuck in a plastic bag bubble, thrown out into the vast, unexplored ocean, and simply asking herself now what? Really, what could she do with a Philosophy degree? Everyone asked her the same question when she’d been making her UCAS choices and now here she was asking herself the same thing. She wished she could remember what 18-year-old Scarlet had replied. Her Mums had been surprisingly supportive of the whole endeavour, but then again they had probably been happy to have their pouty, whining teenage daughter out of the house. Funny how times change, Scarlet thought to herself as she squeezed a generous dollop of washing-up liquid onto the sponge and dunked her empty plate into the hot water she’d filled the sink with. Her Mums had just been on the phone encouraging Scarlet to move back home while she decided on what to do next. It was tempting, but the prospect of being back in the country all isolated and away from her friends and Yvie and the exciting busy-ness of the city didn’t exactly fill Scarlet with glee.

Hearing her phone buzz against the counter, Scarlet almost smashed her newly-dried plate in her haste to read the notification just in case it was an email about her classification. It wasn’t. It was, however, a message from the girls. Nina, to be precise.

Kim Kardashian-West: GUYS it’s meant to be the SUNNIEST day today and Monet’s flat are all going to the beach!!! we should all go too!

Scarlet frowned, looking at the decidedly grey sky. It didn’t exactly inspire much hope.

Yvie’s bitch: Are you sure you’re reading the forecast for today? It looks a bit grey outside xxxx

Kim Kardashian-West: Scarlet I’m a primary teacher. A basic knowledge of the days of the week are kind of an entry level requirement

cursed SatNav voice: Am I FUCK going to sit freezing my ass off on the sand watching the rain piss down all around me!!

cursed SatNav voice: If i wanted to get soaked I would just call Brooke xoxo

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: No.

cursed SatNav voice: Ain’t that right @Brooke Lynn Hytes

Maple Syrup: you know it bby xoxo

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: Hell. I’m in hell.

Scarlet snorted a laugh. Akeria could well have been joking or deadly serious. Looking up and out of the tiny little window that was positioned beside the sink, Scarlet swore she could see a small ray of sunshine fighting through the clouds. She tilted her head, considering Nina’s offer.

Okay Then: yes i am absolutely down to get blackout day drunk today

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: Bitch it’s 11am who hurt you

Okay Then: listen this is perhaps the only time of our lives where we have literally no responsibilities at all. i’m getting drunk

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: I sent off nine masters’ applications yesterday.

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: No responsibilities my ass

Okay Then: well as huge as it is, i’m sure even it could use a little sun xo

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: WHY ARE YOU HOES ALL SO SENSIBLE AND GLOOMY? I’M WITH PLASTIQUE LET’S GO GET DRUNK

Maple Syrup: Ooooh now you mention it a fruity cider would go down so well right now

Yvie’s bitch: Yeah go on then, I’m down!! Xxxxxxx

Scarlet’s bitch: Scarlet it’s literally 13 degrees outside you’re insane

Scarlet’s bitch: but admittedly you are also my girlfriend who i love very much

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: EW

Scarlet’s bitch: so if you’re down i’m down

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: UGH fine i’ll go if all you idiots are too

Kim Kardashian-West: AAAH you guys this makes me so HAPPY!!!

Kim Kardashian-West: We only need Vanjie for a full house

Maple Syrup: Vanjie if you come I’ll let you suck my dick

cursed SatNav voice: How big is it

Maple Syrup: 2.75 inches when fully erect

Maple Syrup: Invisible to the human eye when flaccid

cursed SatNav voice: Hard pass

Scarlet’s bitch: Jesus Harvey Christ

cursed SatNav voice: But you bitches convinced me so i’m in

It turned out that most of the girls were still in their pyjamas, much like Scarlet, so they were given an hour to shower and make their way there. They were lucky that the city sat on the coast, and although much of the coastline was dedicated to harbours and pebble beaches there was one little beautiful strip of sand that lay about a half-hour bus ride out to the suburbs. Yvie and Brooke were getting a lift from Plastique and so they offered the last seat to Scarlet, but Scarlet didn’t want to take the girls out of their way. Besides, the sun was peeking out a little stronger now, and if it was to fully appear then it would be perfect weather for earphones, a summer playlist, and looking out of a bus window pretending she was in a music video.

Stepping outside of her flat, Scarlet was glad she’d ended up choosing dungaree shorts and a plain white t-shirt. It was definitely warmer than it looked, and she had to sweep her hair up into a ponytail to stop her neck getting too hot. She stopped off at the corner shop for a four-pack of cider (Brooke’s message had made her want some) and then walked over to the bus stop, where she managed to get one after not too long of a wait and sat on the top deck, letting the growing rays of sun fry her through the window. Once she was off the bus, she checked her phone for the meetup point. Nina, Monet and her flatmates were sat on the sand “around 10 metres in front of the chippy. But Monet has no concept of measurement so it’s anyone’s guess, really.”. Scarlet didn’t mind a small walk to find them. The promenade was packed with people all dressed in Summer clothes, the pavement giving off that smell of hot gravel which always reminded Scarlet of hot days and happy memories. The platinum-white sun cast its rays over the deep blue of the sea so that little diamonds sparkled against the waves, all tumbling over each other lazily and every so often giving a satisfying crash which mingled with the sounds of dogs barking and children giving happy cries. Scarlet found the chip shop but couldn’t see the girls amongst the mass of bodies laid out on the golden sand, so she shot Nina a text. As she waited for a reply, Scarlet took a deep breath and was hit with the unmistakable smell of the sea and chippy batter combining at once. She was a Winter person- she preferred frosty mornings and dark twinkly nights and getting cosy with a searing hot coffee and her duvet, but she loved how happy Summer seemed to make everyone, the sense of community that came with a hot, sunny day. Once Nina had given the other landmark of “there’s a guy with an inflatable sofa to our immediate right”, Scarlet managed to find the girls with no trouble and she was soon dashing towards them excitedly and letting out an embarrassingly childish squeal as she reached Nina and crashed into her in a hug.

“Scarlet!” she greeted her cheerfully, much of her face obscured by a huge floppy woven sunhat. Breaking out of the hug, she turned to address Monet’s flatmates. “Guys, you remember Scarlet, right?”

There was a chorus of welcoming noises as the other girls greeted her, some more distractedly than others. Cracker was busy rubbing her arm with a thick streak of white sunblock which seemed to have the same consistency as double cream, Bob was laid out against a bright pink beach towel with a set of huge sunglasses over her eyes, and Monique was trying her best to remove the cork from a bottle of cava. Monet was by Nina’s side, her head resting against her girlfriend’s shoulder as she stretched her legs out and buried her feet in the sand.

“Hey, congrats for finishing uni, Miss Scarlet,” Monet smiled at her, Scarlet smiling back despite the fact she was being reminded of adult life hurtling towards her like a bullet train.

“Thanks! Congrats to you both too. How does it feel to have an actual certified genius for a girlfriend?”

“Like I’m horrifically inferior and will never amount to anything.”

“Shut up!” Nina battered her on the arm, outraged as Monet and Scarlet shared a laugh. Nina had received a mark of 95 on her dissertation, a number that the girls had considered impossible to attain at university, but Nina had managed it. It was quite revolutionary as far as undergrad research went; a study into how well-prepared teachers felt to support transgender children in schools, with recommendations as to how to do just that within its conclusion and a call for councils to give further money and resources to the cause. “Your diss was amazing as well.”

“Yeah, what do you mean that more research into ability groupings in maths isn’t groundbreaking?” Monet rolled her eyes, laughing again as Nina protested.

“Who knew so much effort went into a primary teaching degree? I always thought your dissertation would be to…I don’t know, write a children’s book, or make a picture out of pasta spirals and glitter, or create a nursery rhyme or something,” Cracker piped up, Bob giving a snort beside her. Monet looked ready to defend her degree angrily when Nina sat up straight and fixed Cracker with an intrigued look.

“Oh, a nursery rhyme? Like…there was a young girl named Cracker, who was an incredible slacker. Her degree was dumb, so she tried to make fun, of her friends who decided to smack her.”  

Scarlet let out a screech, as did Monique and Bob. Cracker could only burst out laughing and throw her hands up in defeat as Monet grabbed Nina’s face and pressed an emphatic kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek.

“Oh my fucking God, babe, I love you so much,” she laughed, wiping away a tear of mirth from her eye.

“Love you too!” Nina smiled happily, just as Monique finally got the cork out of the bottle with a satisfying, hollow pop.

“Aw, you hoes got champagne on arrival? How fancy.”  

The girls turned around at the familiar voice to find Silky, Akeria and Vanjie all making their way towards them from the promenade. Excited again, Scarlet ran to hug them, namely Vanjie who she hadn’t seen since their final exam. They hadn’t spent too much time together but it had been enough time for Vanessa to elaborate on the story she’d told the girls in the group chat of how she, Silky, Brooke and Nina had all somehow been locked in the library overnight. Scarlet knew that had had something to do with the fact that she and Brooke were friends again. She didn’t know whether they’d fucked their frustrations out or actually talked like adults, but whatever they’d done Scarlet was glad about it. Whether or not they were reconnecting with a view to getting back together or not, Vanessa and Brooke were back to flirting on the group chat like high schoolers, and all was back to normal.

“Right, who’s wanting some of this? I’m not sure I got enough for everyone, though,” Monique asked loudly. Scarlet didn’t miss the way Vanessa stayed silent as the other girls clamoured for some fizz. She knew Vanjie had broken things off with Monique, whatever “things” were, and Scarlet somehow didn’t think she was enjoying being on the other side of a breakup much either.

“Did you even bring cups?” Bob asked, sitting up and quirking an eyebrow at her flatmate. Monique groaned.

“Ah, fuck, cups.”

“You absolute idiot sandwich,” Cracker rolled her eyes at her. Her eyes darted quickly to Vanessa before she stood up and grabbed her purse from her backpack. “C’mon. I’ll come to the shops with you and we can get some.”

The two girls walked away as Silky, Akeria and Vanessa all laid out what looked to be a duvet cover that they’d brought with them in lieu of a towel or blanket. Scarlet didn’t even think to question it. She knew it had been Silky’s idea without needing to ask.

“I feel like a dick,” Vanessa jerked a thumb towards Monique’s retreating frame.

“Don’t,” Monet and Bob said in unison, Nina letting out a small laugh.

“Y’all are The Shining levels of creepy,” Akeria frowned, digging out three huge bottles of beer from a shopping bag and giving one to each of her flatmates.

“Well, we’re right! You were friends with benefits, everyone knew that. It’s not Monique’s fault she caught feels but it sure as hell ain’t yours either,” Bob shrugged, ever the blunt but honest friend.

“So what is going on with you and Brooke now?” Monet asked, leaning forward and propping herself up on her elbows. Vanessa fixed her with an unimpressed look.

“Gee Monet, whatever happened to so how’ve you guys been, or how was exams, or literally any other small talk?”

“Yeah, and whatever happened to it’s none of our business?” Nina side-eyed her girlfriend disapprovingly.

“Well, girl! We’ve been in dissertation hell for a month and a half. Shit kinda got boring,” Monet shrugged semi-apologetically. “Anyway Vanjie, Monique’s away and Brooke’s not here yet and I doubt you want to talk about it when either of those two are here in front of you? And I’ve been trying to grill Neens about it but she keeps using lame excuses like we shouldn’t be getting involved and shouldn’t you be thinking about your classroom, so c’mon, bitch, spill.”

Vanessa smiled slightly, gesturing as if it was obvious. “Well, she knows I love her. And she loves me.”

Monet let out an “aaw!” at the same time Akeria let out an “ugh”. Vanjie ignored them both and continued.

“But she hurt me, so I ain’t lettin’ her get back in my good books that easy. Of course I wanna be with her, more than anything else in the world, but we need to get that trust back before I even entertain the idea.”

“So have you…y’know…had any kinky, passionate reunion sex yet?” Monet winked at her. Vanessa looked at her flatmates, a humoured smile playing on her lips.

“Akeria’s threatened to kick me out the flat if I even so much as think about it.”

The girls howled with laughter as Akeria tried to suppress a smile. “She thinks I’m joking.”

“I really don’t,” Vanjie raised her eyebrows at her, Akeria playfully shoving her onto the fluffy sand beside her and causing her to get it all up her side. “God fucking damnit, now I don’t even get to look nice when she arrives.”

“Oh, here she comes now, actually,” Silky said, nonplussed. Vanessa scowled at her.

“Quit playin’.”

Scarlet followed Silky’s gaze. “No, Vanj, she actually is.”

As Vanessa muttered a shit, Scarlet waved excitedly at Plastique, Brooke and Yvie, smiling when the latter pulled a goofy face and waved back. Plastique seemed to be carrying something huge and wooden underneath her arm.

“Lord Jesus, what the hell is she doing,” Silky shook her head as the girls came closer into view. Scarlet jumped up happily to hug her girlfriend, Brooke muttered a soft hey as she sat down next to Vanjie and hugged her, and Plastique, after she’d greeted the others, unfolded a multicoloured striped deckchair.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Scarlet let out a laugh, unsure whether to be impressed or exasperated by Plastique’s levels of extra.

“What?! It’s a sunny day, we’re at the beach, this is literally what deckchairs are for! Have fun getting sand in every possible orifice, losers,” she stuck out her tongue at them as she sat back and gave a happy sigh.

“Ariel not joining us today?” Nina asked.

“Nah, she’s gone home to see her parents. Why the hell you’d want to go home now when you could be dragging out your last month of uni life is totally beyond me, but hey.”

Yvie gave a deep laugh. “Plastique, your family have a townhouse in London, a chalet in Chamonix with membership to a private ski resort, and a literal penthouse in Dubai with an outdoor pool on a balcony. Why the fuck are you here?”

The girls all exploded with laughter, even Plastique conceding with a smile and a self-aware shrug that she was a rich bitch.

“Hey, I’m moving back in after graduation and won’t see you guys for ages, let me enjoy your shitty company.”

“You could fly us all out,” Brooke smiled hopefully, cracking the top off her bottle of cider with her keys.

“Yeah, lemme borrow twenty grand off my Mum real quick,” Plastique snorted sardonically.

Bob reached across to Monique’s cava, giving a small sip. “I’m moving home too. Gotta save money.”

“At least you both know what you’re doing,” Scarlet rolled her eyes, trying not to sound too bitter and accidentally just coming out with the verbal equivalent of black coffee. Luckily, Brooke held out her bottle and nodded emphatically.

“We can’t all have Akeria’s serial-killer levels of ambition or just walk into a job like Monet and Nina.”

“Hey! It’s a probationary year that we could literally fail if we screw up, stop thinking we have things easy,” Nina protested.

“How could you possibly fail being a teacher unless you literally boot a child in the face?” Yvie laughed in disbelief. Seeing Monet and Nina gearing themselves up for a verbal sparring match, she gesticulated wildly. “I’m kidding, ladies, I’m kidding! You work very hard and kids are little shits and you don’t get paid enough. Happy?”

“Very,” Monet rolled her eyes, accepting the cava that Bob held out to her and taking a swig before passing it to Nina.

“What’re you guys doing after uni?” Bob asked, then instantly cringed hearing the groans she got in response. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot that question is basically Satan incarnate.”

“Well, I applied to a bunch of newspapers. But the journalism industry is a shitshow anyway, so fuck knows what I’m doing or if they’ll even accept me,” Silky sighed. Her mood was decidedly flat. It was rare for her to be anything other than high-energy, volume turned all the way up to 100.

“Well, your classification might help!” Bob said comfortingly. Scarlet looked at Silky to gauge her reaction. She didn’t know if she’d been given hers yet, but the girl’s embarrassed face soon gave her an answer.

“Well I got a 2:2, so. Probably not,” she shrugged, Bob trying to backtrack apologetically. Scarlet felt bad for Silky. There was nothing wrong with a 2:2 and a degree was still a degree, but she knew how much Silky believed that despite her grades not being great, she’d still pull it out of the bag in the end, maybe manage one essay that pulled her marks up. Even though the girls were all still proud of her, it was another thing for her to let herself down.

“We’re still proud of you, Silky. You worked fucking hard and you got your degree, and that’s something to celebrate,” Nina smiled affirmingly, holding the cava out for Silky to drink. She smiled gratefully at the girls around her before accepting.

“Thanks, ladies,” she said quietly, before taking a swig. The cava seemed to return Silky back to normal, and she cried out after drinking. “An’ besides! 2:1s are boring anyway. Go hard or go home, bitch, and I’m goin’ the fuck home!”

The girls indulged Silky in a laugh. They sat for a while, chatting easily and passing the bottle of cava around, the lack of cups now not so much of a problem as it had seemed previously.

“Hey, anyone want a paddle?” Brooke asked suddenly. Scarlet gave a snort of outrage.

“You’re insane. That water’s got to be minus five.”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun! Vanj?” Brooke asked, her voice hopeful. Vanessa shrugged easily, casting the girl a quick smile and then dragging Akeria and Silky to their feet.

“To be fair, I am getting really warm. Getting my feet cold might be nice,” Nina reasoned out loud. Monet jumped up with her cheerfully. “Yvie, you coming?”

“Nah. Think I’ll stay here with my girl,” Yvie squeezed Scarlet’s hand, Scarlet smiling back at her happily.

“Awww, Yvie! You’re too cute,” Plastique cried sarcastically from her deckchair, the other girls laughing. She was too busy sunbathing to paddle, but Bob decided she’d follow Monet’s lead and join the others in the water. Scarlet laughed as she watched her friends tear down to the sea like children, the white spray flying into the air as they all hit the water at once.

“We’re friends with actual kids,” Yvie laughed, Scarlet nodding in agreement.

“God, we really are,” she smiled affectionately, watching Akeria take a step into the sea then jump back as if it was made of molten lava and not freezing cold water. Just as the girls had left, Scarlet became aware of two sets of footsteps approaching behind them. It was Cracker and Monique, back from the shops with a plastic bag twirling around Monique’s hand.

“Hey,” Scarlet greeted them cheerfully, then added, by way of explanation, “They’ve gone into the sea.”

“Oh, fun!” Cracker beamed. Monique picked up the bottle of cava and rolled her eyes. There was a shot-sized dribble at the bottom.

“You sons of bitches are nothing if not predictable,” she laughed, fishing a brand new bottle out of the plastic bag along with a set of cups. Yvie held her hands out apologetically and Monique shook her head, letting her know all was forgiven. Scarlet looked out to the water again. Bob had Monet on her back and Vanessa was leaping on Brooke’s, Brooke unable to catch her from the amount she was laughing. It looked as if they were about to do some sort of race or fight. Vanessa finally got onto Brooke’s back, her arms looping around her shoulders like a bush baby.

“So. That’s that then,” Monique gave a little sigh as she looked out to sea. Scarlet did a double-take as she looked at her. Her expression was mostly hidden behind her huge mirrored sunglasses, but Scarlet could see the small frown on her face. She knew who her gaze had fallen on. Scarlet felt bad for the girl.

“Hey, don’t take it personally. Vanjie thought you were great, she really did. She told me all the time,” Scarlet said reassuringly, Monique giving her a little smile of gratitude. “You know that way when you’re still hung up on someone you love. That’s all it is.”

Monique rubbed her arms, wrapping them around herself in a hug. “My own damn fault for catchin’ feelings.”

“Happens to the best of us, girl,” Yvie piped up. Cracker smiled at the pair of them gratefully, squeezing Monique’s shoulder supportively.

“We’ve been trying to tell her that.”

Monique laughed suddenly as she saw Silky chasing the girls with a huge, slimy-looking clump of seaweed she’d fished out of the water. The smile remained on her face as her laughter died down and she looked at Scarlet and Yvie inquisitively. “Brooke’s gonna treat her nice, right?”

Scarlet thought about Brooke’s helplessness after her and Akeria’s birthday weekend, her heartbroken confession of love in the toilets of the grubby karaoke bar. She watched how tightly Brooke was holding Vanessa on her back, as if to let go of her would be a crime. Scarlet smiled at Monique. “She will. I know she will.”

Seemingly satisfied, Monique kicked her sandals off and turned to Cracker. “You wanna go paddle?”

“Girl, I thought you’d never ask.”

Scarlet was satisfied staying with Yvie on the sand. They turned to Plastique only to find her napping in her deckchair, her skin beginning to take on an ever-so-slightly pink hue. Deciding to avoid Plastique’s potential wrath if they woke her up, Monique and Cracker dashed down to the ocean to join the other girls. Scarlet sat quietly with Yvie for a moment, taking in the scene of their friends all clowning around in the water.

“You still looking for jobs?” Yvie asked her. Scarlet sighed. She didn’t mind talking about post-uni life with Yvie, didn’t mind being honest about how scared and unsure she was with the person who loved her and she loved back.

“Yeah. It’s hard applying without my classification, though. And, I guess, even harder when you’ve got no idea what the hell you want to do with your life.”

Scarlet gave a self-deprecating laugh which Yvie gently joined in with. Yvie laced her fingers around Scarlet’s and gave her hand a squeeze. “You’ll figure it out, babe. There’s no time pressure on these things.”

“I know. It’s just hard when…hell, you’ve got Monet and Nina about to start their entire careers. I mean they’ll be in charge of a whole class of kids. Akeria knows what she wants to do and she’ll get there. Hell, even if Silky’s classification wasn’t as good as she wanted it, journalism is at least something she wants to go into. And Vanjie’s decided on events management. You know you want to at least do something with criminology,” Scarlet sighed, suddenly feeling so small. “It’s so hard trying to figure out what you want to do with your life when everyone around you seems to know. How the hell are you meant to know yourself?”

“Listen,” Yvie brought her thumb up to stroke Scarlet’s knuckle, calming her instantly by about 80%. “The great thing about your life is that…it’s yours. Nobody else’s. Just yours. Say you decide on a job and you hate it. Do you think you have to stay because the pay’s good and it’s something steady? No! You leave, because you can get another job. You don’t like it? You change. You want to go back to uni to doss about for another year? Do it! There is no rule to life that says you need to live it a certain way. And fuck yes, it’s scary! I’m scared! I don’t know if I’ll like any of the jobs I’m applying for, they could be so different in reality to what they are on paper. But you know I’ll support you whatever you decide.”

Scarlet’s voice was quiet as she watched the waves crash around her friends. “I just don’t want to disappoint my parents.”

“Scarlet, your parents love you unconditionally. And I’ll say it again- it’s your life. Yours. Not theirs. You can do whatever the hell you want to.”

Scarlet nodded, Yvie’s words a small comfort to her in the world that now seemed so big and scary. Yvie’s voice was quieter as she spoke again. “So…you’re going to live back home once all this is over?”

“I guess so. I don’t really want to, but I don’t want to live alone either. And it’ll help me save money, although if I don’t have a job I guess there’s not much money to save,” Scarlet snorted a laugh. She didn’t want to think about any of this, but Yvie was asking her so she gave an honest answer. Scarlet didn’t miss the way her girlfriend fell silent, nodding her head, a sad little frown on her face. She didn’t want to move away from Yvie. She didn’t want to return home. Yvie was her home.

Suddenly there came a splash from the water and Scarlet’s gaze was jolted away from her girlfriend and down to the sea. Silky had somehow fallen into the water and the girls were all howling with mirth as she screeched and tried to splash them all. Scarlet couldn’t help but join in with the laughter as she watched Akeria help fish Silky out of the water, the girl sitting in the wet sand and laughing so loudly that Scarlet could hear it even from farther up the beach. As Scarlet composed herself and her laughter died down, she turned to see Yvie looking at her, a dopey little smile on her face.

“What?” Scarlet laughed, touching her hair self-consciously. Yvie looked down at the sand, then back up to meet her eyes.

“Move in with me. After we graduate.”

Scarlet’s eyes grew suddenly wide in shock. Yvie was still holding her hand and Scarlet’s grip on hers had tightened. “Really?”

Yvie’s face was earnest, and Scarlet could see her gulp as she nodded quickly. She took a little gasp of air before explaining herself. “I mean, we both already basically live together. You’re at mine so often anyway, we know what we’re like to live with. We’ve not spent more than a full week apart since…fuck, I don’t know. I would do long distance for you, Scarlet, but I don’t want to. I want to go to IKEA and build flat pack furniture and make slow cooker casseroles and fucking…pay council tax with you. I hope you don’t…think I’m being too intense. Jesus, we’ve not even been together a year, fuck, sorry, this was a shit idea-”

“Well when you know, you know, right?” Scarlet smiled at her girlfriend, squeezing her hand. Yvie smiled back at her, reassured and happy, and Scarlet could hear the seagulls in the air and the crash of the waves and the laughter of their friends. She wouldn’t have had any other soundtrack to accompany the moment. “Yes. I’m in. Let’s get a flat together. Just the two of us. I don’t know what the fuck I want to do with my life, but I know it’s going to be a lot easier if I’m doing it with you.”

Relieved, Yvie leaned in and met Scarlet’s lips, kissing her once, twice, three times before pulling away and squeezing her hand. They met each other’s eyes and smiled, breathlessly giggling a little. Deciding to move in together didn’t seem to be the huge, relationship-changing milestone that society had hyped it up to be. It made sense to Scarlet: they loved each other, enjoyed the other’s company, they’d practically lived together for the past however-many-months. Okay, they hadn’t really hit any real speed bumps in their relationship really, but Scarlet trusted Yvie and she trusted herself. They were a team, two puzzle pieces that fit together. Whatever the crazy, scary, mixed-up adult world had in store for them after graduation, they would face it together.

Just then, Scarlet’s phone vibrated. She picked it up from its place underneath a carefully-folded corner of her towel. Opening it and reading the email, her heart dropped.

“Oh my God,” she said, her heart thudding uncontrollably.

“What’s the matter?”

“My classification’s through.”

Scarlet’s fingers were shaking and her palms were sweating as she frantically logged onto the uni’s intranet.

“Breathe. Just breathe. It’ll be fine,” Yvie reassured her, but Scarlet could feel her blood racing in her veins. She didn’t want to look. She did want to look. As the page loaded, she squeezed her eyes shut. Nothing had ever seemed so catastrophically life-defining before. The page loaded, Scarlet blinked, then she screamed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Plastique flinch in her deckchair. Yvie’s face was expectant. Scarlet could hardly get the words out.

“A FIRST, I GOT A FUCKING FIRST!” she screeched, Yvie practically tackling her into the sand as she hugged her. Scarlet felt like her heart was about to burst. The three years had all been worth it and she felt like the biggest weight and worry in the world was finally lifted off of her. This was, admittedly, contrasted with the feeling of Plastique piling herself on top of the two girls, screaming excitedly the whole time. Scarlet suddenly batted them off of her, grabbing their hands and tugging them towards the shore.

“I wanna run into the sea! Can we run into the sea and tell the girls?”

Nodding excitedly, the three friends tore towards the coastline screeching like banshees. Scarlet could feel the wind in her hair, the sun beating down on her, and the sand shifting underneath her feet with every step she took.

She had never felt so conscious of her own mortality and yet as if she could live forever all at once.

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Possessed Part 2 Chapter Five: Turns

For the sake of my sanity, I chose to split this chapter into two parts because after all the heavy edits I performed on it, it was too long and there was already a cut point in the middle anyway.

Waking up in his old room was very odd. It was bare, the shelves empty and the walls free of decoration but the glow in the dark stars he’d stuck to the ceiling shortly after moving in were still there and the comfy bed with its green bedspread felt the same. It felt wrong to be in a place he used to feel so safe and cozy in with King Boo in his body, making everything so awful.

King Boo scoffed internally at that as he dragged them out of bed. They would both rather stay sleeping but even with the aid of magic and willpower they could only sleep for so long. Luigi would’ve been content to stay lying in bed, pretending to sleep, but King Boo wasn’t having it so up they got.

Stepping out into the hall, they almost ran into Mario. He jumped back, putting on a smile. “Good morning Luigi.”

“Good morning,” Luigi replied even as King Boo ignored them both as he headed straight for the living room.

Once there, he paused and glanced around until he spotted the phone. ‘What’s E. Gadd’s number?’ he asked, as he beelined for it.

Luigi gave it to him as he dialed it in.

It rang twice before someone answered it. “Hello!” It was Gooigi.

“I need to talk to E. Gadd,” King Boo said before Luigi could try to return the greeting.

Gooigi mumbled something in reply followed by a call for E. Gadd. A few seconds later the sound of the phone changing hands occurred.

“Who is it?” E. Gadd asked from the other side, his tone mildly annoyed.

“Any more progress on your machine?” King Boo asked, not wasting time with being polite.

“Nothing significant and your call is only slowing me down.”

“You need us down at the lab for anything?” There probably wasn’t anything either of them could help with at this point but Luigi might as well cut in and ask to make sure anyway since they were already on the phone with him.

“Hmm… not right now. I’d like you down here later tonight though. I might be able to measure how fast your souls are merging if I can scan them around the same time each day. So, I’ll see you later tonight, an hour or so after the time you show up yesterday. For now, goodbye.” He hung up.

King Boo hung up too before turning around to frown at Mario who was standing behind him.

“Any news from E. Gadd?” he asked.

King Boo mentally nudged Luigi to answer because he didn’t want to talk to Mario if he didn’t have to. So… “Not really. But uh… he wants us back at his lab later tonight to try to measure how fast the uh… soul thing is happening.”

“Well, I supposed that’s to be expected. What are we going to do in the meantime?”

Luigi opened his mouth to answer but… he didn’t know. It was still early morning, they had hours before they were needed at the lab.

‘Does your brother keep any alcohol in the house? Or perhaps other ways to make time seem faster?’

Luigi would’ve been tempted to go along with that idea – anything to dull his misery and make the passage of time feel faster – if it wasn’t for Mario. In general Luigi would rather never be seen while overly intoxicated on any substance but with Mario it’d be even worse. So… No, we’re not doing that.

King Boo frowned. ‘How ‘bout I do it anyway? If there’s none in the house, I’m sure we could find some elsewhere.’ Even before completing the thought, he was already headed for the kitchen; the most obvious place to look for alcohol.

He only took two steps though before Luigi tapped in his magic – he was getting better and more used to that each time he did it – and stopped him from taking another. Excepting it this time, King Boo managed to keep his balance this time, he did stumble a little though.

“You okay?” Mario asked as he walked around to stand in front of them.

‘What do you propose we do then, huh?’

I don’t know, just not that, okay?

If not cooperating was a viable option King Boo would’ve told him to fuck off and do as he pleased anyway. But as it was, he had no choice but to acquiesce for now. ‘Fine! But just so you know, I refuse to let you make all the calls about what we’re going to do or not do until the machine is done, got it?’ While he didn’t have full power over Luigi anymore, he still had a lot and could definitely make his life a living hell if he tried pretend like he was in full control now.

It was Luigi’s body though so… Luigi didn’t even let himself finish that thought because King Boo didn’t care. … Yep, he was here and stuck so Luigi was going to have to deal with him for a while longer. … Which meant they’d have to make some kind of compromise if they wanted to maintain their peace agreement.

‘All right, how about this: we don’t get drunk or high off our asses but otherwise, I call the shots.’

No. Luigi wasn’t going let himself be walked over any longer. We can take turns choosing how we want to spend our time. It was the fairest they could probably be about this and hopefully it would only be for a few days. Though that was unlikely, it’d probably be at least a week if not more.

King Boo sighed and groaned, he didn’t like that idea but… ‘Fine, whatever.’ It would guarantee him some time to do as he pleased without having to fight Luigi for it. Though he’d have to do the same back which was lame. This whole playing nice thing was even worse than he’d thought it be. When he was free of this, he was never ever going to possess anyone or even anything ever again. … Good! As far as Luigi was concerned, he never should’ve in the first place.

Pushing aside King Boo’s answering annoyance, Luigi turned his attention back on Mario at last. He was watching them with a slightly worried expression on his face.

“We’re uh… fine,” Luigi said, forcing a smile. They were about as fine as they could be given the situation. “We decided to take turns on deciding what to do to pass the time. It’s my turn first.”

‘I never agreed to that!’ … Luigi didn’t care, he’d already spoken so for once, he was going to make things go his way here. In large part because he just wanted to spend some time with Mario. He deserved that after everything he’d been through lately, right? … ‘I don’t see why he’d want to spend time with you.’ … Luigi was not going to reply to that or dwell on it.

“… but it’ll have to do for now until we can get rid of him,” Mario was saying as Luigi focused back in on him. “Which will be soon I’m sure. So uh… what do you want to do?”

“He wants to spend time with you,” King Boo cut in with a derisive tone before Luigi could answer. “It’s pathetic.”

Mario scowled before putting on a smile. “We can hang out. We’ll just ignore him; pretend he isn’t there.”

“Good luck with that.” King Boo scoffed. “Letting him do as he pleases, doesn’t mean I’m going to stay quiet in the background.” Not surprising, that’d be far too much for Luigi to even hope for let alone expect from King Boo. He’d have to take what he could get.

Mario didn’t respond though, not even with a glance as he turned towards the kitchen. “Let’s have some breakfast and then we can hang out and play video games for a while, it should be fun.”

 -

‘Fun’ was harder to have with King Boo’s grumpiness about everything bleeding into Luigi’s feelings. And his occasional mean comment, both out loud to Mario and internally were a bit of a downer too. Luigi did his best though. And Mario, always the best bro ever, ignored everything King Boo said, somehow always knowing when it was him talking. How much it annoyed King Boo was honestly pretty funny at times especially since he didn’t want either of them to know it affected him any.

Overall, despite King Boo and his best efforts, it was definitely the best day Luigi had had since the start of this nonsense – not that there was much competition for even a good day, let alone the best. They played video games and watched some TV together, eating junk food. It was almost like the good old days before they’d gained any real responsibilities or learned how cruel the world could be. Back when they’d been nobodies; not heroes or anyone’s rival or anything else, just a couple of bros who’d gone into the plumbing business together.

Alas, as with all things, it had to come to an end at some point. Eventually it came time for them to go back to E. Gadd’s lab. Mario drove while King Boo decided to take a nap lying in the back seat. Neither Luigi nor Mario approved of the no seat belt necessary for that position but King Boo didn’t care and it wasn’t worth fighting over much so he got his way.

Gooigi greeted them at the door when they arrived, answering the bell within seconds as if they’d been waiting for them, probably at E. Gadd’s request. Immune to Polterpup’s barking, they lead the way into the lab proper.

The boxes and piles of junk had been moved, allowing for the beginnings of a new invention to be built to the left. It wasn’t much but it was a start. Hopefully when it was finished, it would work.

E. Gadd was already setting up the scanner again. Making it easy to quickly get to the reason for their visit without even exchanging greetings of any sort.

“Your souls are definitely more merged than they were this time yesterday,” he said a short time later, not even looking up from the scanner readout on his laptop yet. “I don’t think it’s a worrying amount though, not yet anyway. I want to keep a close eye on it though so come back this time tomorrow. But for now, shoo.” He closed the laptop as he stood up, making a shooing gesture with one hand at them. “I need to get back to work.”

King Boo had no complaints about that so with a shrug, he turned and strolled out of the lab. Luigi would’ve preferred to hang out a little bit, make sure all was going well and help out with anything if it was needed but… ‘It’s my turn now.’ And King Boo didn’t want to stick around so they weren’t.

“Uh… be sure you’re not overworking yourself or anything,” they heard Mario say behind them before he ran to catch up with King Boo as he exited the building entirely.

“Drop me off in town on your way home,” King Boo said to him without even glancing his way as they headed back towards the car. “I have some stuff I need to take care of.”

“You really think I’m going let you run off by yourself again?”

“Yes, actually. That’s part of the deal I made with your brother, remember? I let him have fun with you, now it’s my turn to do whatever I want. He’ll be the one to pay for it the most if you try to stop me.” Completely confident that Mario would do as he said, King Boo climbed back into the backseat of the car. After closing the door in Mario face, he lay back down and threw an arm over his eyes to block the light.

A few seconds later, Mario climbed back into the front, slamming the driver-side door hard enough to shake the whole car. “Fine, but I want him back home before midnight.”

“I’ll have him back at not long after sunrise tomorrow, no sooner.”

Luigi would rather not stay out that long but they did need less sleep now so it wasn’t the end of the world. And it would give him plenty of time to spend with Mario tomorrow. So… “I’ll be fine bro, don’t worry about me,” he said before Mario could try to protest. “He already agreed not to… do anything bad or… you know, so it’ll be fine.” Or at least as fine as it could be.

“All right, I guess.” Mario still sounded unhappy about it as he started the car. “I suppose it’s not like he’s gonna run off anywhere anyway.”

[hellofromthe-otter-slide]

A Grain of Sand, a Universe of Oceans

Well, it’s bee a while since I’ve written for my Beast Island series, and let me tell ya, I know I promised an ending when I posted my newest chapter of Repercussions, but I couldn’t really get there and tell the story I wanted, ya know? So, I figured why not give some snapshots of Adora and Catra in the universe? I’ve got another chapter already planned and in need of finessing, but if there’s anything you want to see, let me know!

Read of AO3.

~

Catra feels shifting from underneath her, and without thinking, she tightens her grip.

Adora laughs softly. “Catra,” she whispers into Catra’s hair, “We should probably get up.”

“If you get out of this bed, I’m breaking up with you,” Catra mumbles, burying her face against Adora’s neck.

“I didn’t know the consequences were so dire,” Adora jokes, her fingers coming up to run through Catra’s mane.

Catra just nods and lets herself sink into the comfort of the soft morning and her warm girlfriend giving her affection. She can’t stop the quiet purrs rumbling in her chest, and Adora’s fingers move from her mane down her back.

“You have duties you can’t ignore, you know,” Adora says, and Catra doesn’t acknowledge it.

She knows she has duties. She’s surprised Hakim hasn’t burst through her door with her daily schedule and interrupted their first few peacefully minutes of the day.

She knows that there are trade agreements to look over, merchants and vendors to visit, and advisors to try and shake off throughout the day for just a few minutes so that she can have time to herself.

Catra wonders if she can abdicate right now, even if she isn’t queen yet.

Maybe she can convince C’yra to choose a less annoying advisor.

Catra finally opens her eyes to see that the late morning sun has cast a warm orange glow throughout the room. Adora’s hair, finally free of its ponytail and cut to shoulder length, catches it just so, and blonde hair shines even brighter than She-Ra’s ever could.

She pushes herself up to her elbows and sighs. “How did I become the one with all the responsibilities?”

Adora smiles, “I guess She-Ra isn’t important now that there’s no war to fight.”

Catra scoffs, “It’s been, what? Four years since the Second Battle of Bright Moon, and people still invite you to celebrations.”

“Someone’s just jealous that the last one made a She-Ra cake.”

“Other people fought in that battle.”

“Just admit it, Catra.”

“I’m not jealous of your dumb cake.”

Adora’s smile becomes a mischievous smirk, and Catra reacts before Adora gets a chance to gain the upper hand.

It helps that Catra’s already on top. It means that Adora has to put more strength into her efforts to flip them, and while Catra knows she has the strength to do it, she acts fast enough to stop it.

Adora’s pinned, and it’s Catra turn to smirk. “You thought you were going to be able to win that?” She leans in close, so close that their lips brush where she breathes out, “Pathetic.”

“Have you gotten faster?” Adora asks breathily, and Catra knows it’s not from her small, unsuccessful attempt to flip them, “I think you’ve gotten faster.”

“Not since yesterday.” Catra teases.

Adora tries pushing up to kiss her, but just as quick as she ruined Adora’s attempt to flip them, Catra pushes up and away.

“Well, you did say I have things to attend to,” Catra says idly, sitting up and disentangling herself from Adora, “Being the Magicat princess is truly such an important job, and what kind of monarch would I be if I just lazed around with the great She-Ra in bed all day?”

She goes to get out of bed, and Adora does exactly what she wants.

Adora grabs Catra’s wrist and pulls her just enough to bring her back down to the bed before finally getting exactly what she wanted just a few minutes ago.

Catra grins, “Now who doesn’t want to get out of bed?”

Adora brushes a few stray strands of hair from Catra’s face. “You play dirty.”

“I’ve never liked playing by the rules,” Catra jokes, her hands coming up to rest against Adora’s hips.

“Still so evil,” Adora says through a smile, her eyes sparkling.

“I’m reformed.” Catra pulls Adora down to her, all of the banter getting in the way of what she would rather do.

Adora resists, “Someone’s really anxious after all that teasing before.”

“Why do I date you?”

“You ask that a lot for someone’s who’s been dating me for five years.”

“You’re infuriating,” Catra starts listing, “Way too buff,” Adora hums as if in understanding of Catra’s false negatives, “You steal the blankets,” Adora barks out a laugh, “And annoyingly nice and thoughtful.”

Catra stays away from the words she knows grate at Adora, words tainted by a past that left a mark on them like scars.

Adora’s smile is cocky, and it reminds Catra of those moments in the Horde when Adora knew she was winning, and it doesn’t hurt like it used to. Catra doesn’t think about the sting of perpetually being second best or all the cutting words she received for losing.

All she remembers are the times when it was just them, and Adora gaining the upper hand was just another fun moment of their spar away from Shadow Weaver’s judgement or the bullies within the squad.

“Would you like to keep listing all of my good qualities?” Adora asks, finally leaning in like Catra wanted a few minutes before.

“Oh right,” Catra rolls her eyes, “I forgot to say an ego the size of Etheria.”

“That’s usually the first thing you list.”

Catra’s grip on Adora’s hips tighten as Adora starts peppering small kisses along Catra’s jaw.

“I wanted it last for the emphasis,” Catra breathes out.

She feels Adora’s smile against her throat, and just as her hands slip up into Adora’s hair, there’s a knock at her bedroom door.

Catra groans, and Adora sinks into her with a sigh.

“I swear, I’m going to murder him,” Catra says softly so that Hakim can’t hear her from the other side of the door, “I’m going to bury him so deeply in the Kingdom of Snows that no one will find him for a thousand years.”

There’s another knock as Adora chuckles and mockingly says, “Reformed,” right by Catra’s ear.

“What?” Catra says, loud enough that she knows Hakim can hear her on the other side.

“Are you awake, Princess?” Hakim asks, his voice muddled through the door, and Catra rolls her eyes.

“Obviously,” Adora and Catra say at the same time, but only Catra’s voice is loud enough to be heard.

“You’re needed in the Throne Room at the next possible convenience,” Hakim informs her.

“By whose insistence?”

“The queen.”

“They’re going to find C’yra’s body right beside his,” Catra whispers just to Adora, and as Adora tries muffling her laughter, she says, “Tell Queen C’yra that I will be there in 30 minutes.”

“Yes, Princess.”

Catra doesn’t hear footsteps.

“Go, Hakim.”

“Yes, Princess.”

She finally hears footsteps retreat down the hall, and Adora picks herself up off of Catra. “C’yra has a funny way of picking on you.”

Catra spreads out on the bed as Adora gets up and starts looking for something to wear. “She knows Hakim is driving me nuts,” Catra complains, “Although using Hakim to annoy me is borderline diabolical.”

“Oh yeah,” Adora says sarcastically, “Someone call the Princess Alliance. We have a new evil force to defeat.”

“You’re not taking my suffering seriously.”

“You’re right,” Adora comes and sits on the edge of the bed, “Would you like me to call a meeting to discuss this blatant breaking of the Treaties?”

Catra’s tail comes up to wrap around Adora’s wrist absentmindedly, and she plays with Adora’s fingers just for some contact. “Just because you said that, now I’m going to call a meeting, and everyone is going to show up and I’m going to blame it on you.”

Adora leans forward and kisses Catra lightly. “You don’t have enough time in your busy schedule to make it over to Bright Moon.”

She goes to move away, but Catra doesn’t let her. That small kiss isn’t how she wanted to start her morning. She wants more, and it’s obvious Adora is on the same page, because she doesn’t resist. She sinks into Catra, and they kiss long and slow.

It’s Adora who pulls away first, though. “Responsibilities, Catra.”

“I wasn’t even this busy as Hordak’s second-in-command,” she complains, pulling herself out of bed to finally get ready.

Adora gets dressed before Catra, and she sits on the bed and watches Catra try and decide how formal she has to dress for the day.

“Hey, Catra?” Adora asks, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Do the Magicats have a binding ceremony?”

“Of course, we do,” Catra answers idly, finally deciding on a cloak and wrapping it around her shoulders, “C’yra made me learn about it a few years ago. According to her, I could be asked to perform the ceremony.”

“Have you ever thought about it?” Adora sounds a little hesitant, “For us, I mean.”

Catra turns, and Adora’s still sitting on the bed, her smile soft and sweet and shy.

“Have you?”

“Not extensively,” Adora answers honestly, “After all of those years in the Horde, it didn’t even cross my mind that we would need to bind ourselves to each other so formally.”

Catra lets out a relieved laugh, “I thought we were just fine as we are now.”

“Me too!” Adora says, “We live together, and you’re it for me. I just didn’t realize everyone outside of the Horde expects something so formal around this point in our relationship.”

“What brought this up?” Catra asks out of curiosity.

“Glimmer,” Adora answers with a fond roll of her eyes, “She brought up marriage and then asked me whether the Magicat marriage ceremony was different than Bright Moon’s.”

“It is,” Catra says, then adds, “You can also inform her that the state of our relationship is none of her business.”

“With that level of seriousness?”

“Add a glare for good measure.”

“Yes, Princess Catra.”

Catra glares at Adora before looking past her to the clock on her bedside table.

“Shit,” Catra rushes over and gives Adora one last kiss, “If I don’t get to the Throne Room in the next five minutes, Hakim might just break down our door.”

“Better run then.”

Catra playfully hits Adora’s shoulder before turning to leave, and just as she gets to the door, she turns. “Adora?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re it for me too.”

Adora smiles, “I know.”

“See you tonight?”

“See you tonight.”

~*~

Frosta and her advisor finally leave after a trade meeting that went over time by twenty minutes, and Catra’s head hits the table with a loud groan.

“Okay,” C’yra says, closing a folder of revised trade agreements, “You’ve been distracted all day. What is going on?”

“I’m not distracted,” Catra mumbles against the table.

C’yra laughs. “Come on, kitten,” she says, “I watched you and Cassandra spar. You almost let her pin you.”

Catra turns her face out. “I can’t be a perfect warrior every day.”

“Frosta asked you a direct question and she had to repeat herself twice.”

“I rarely listen to what Frosta says.”

“Catra—”

“I’m not distracted! It’s just,” Catra closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “Adora brought up the binding ceremony this morning.”

“Did she propose?”

“No,” Catra pulls her head off the table, “She just asked me if I’ve ever thought about it.”

C’yra leans back in her chair and asks, “Have you?”

“We both haven’t.”

Catra sees the look of confusion on C’yra’s face.

“The Horde didn’t have any sort of binding or marriage ceremony,” Catra explains, “While relationships weren’t forbidden, it just wasn’t seen as a necessity. Binding didn’t have any benefits for either party, so it wasn’t done.”

“It’s been years since the two of you were there.”

“It’s not like the other stuff,” Catra says, avoiding any discussion of the other habits and thoughts that stuck from the Horde, “It’s just hard for us to see why a formal ceremony is necessary when we’re happy as we are, but apparently this is a normal next step for people who have been dating a significant amount of time and didn’t grow up in the Horde.”

C’yra’s confusion softens into a smile. “Felix and I waited to do our binding ceremony.”

“Why?”

“For one, it’s a bit different marrying into the royal family,” C’yra says, “I didn’t want Felix’s life to change because he gained a role he wasn’t expecting in his life.”

“Right, yes, his role as king must be so difficult for him,” Catra replies in a dry tone, “How long has he spent in the library so far today?”

C’yra laughs, “I believe he’s on hour four.”

“So terrible.”

“It wasn’t Felix who was worried,” C’yra clarifies, “He was more than ready to assume his role. I was the one who didn’t want to thrust being king on him someday.”

“How come?”

“I didn’t want him to resent me,” C’yra looks down at the folder and picks at one of the edges, “I was worried that one day he would realize this wasn’t the role he wanted and I would be to blame.”

“Which never happened.”

C’yra nods. “My point was that you two don’t have to do it just because it’s expected of you.”

“What about my role as princess?” Catra asks, “Don’t I have to have a formal partner eventually?”

“No, kitten,” C’yra leans forward runs a few fingers through Catra’s hair, avoiding the tufts right in front of her ear, “As I understand it, marriage is a bigger deal in Bright Moon than binding is here. You and Adora could go your entire lives without ever being bound and nobody in Half Moon would question it.”

“What about the fact that Adora isn’t a Magicat?”

“Hakim brought that up?”

Catra nods, “He mentioned the law after seeing Adora and me together.”

“You’ve been sitting on that for a while then.”

Catra shrugs.

“You want to know the best part about being queen?”

Catra smirks, “The power you lord over everyone?”

C’yra shoves her gently. “It’s the ability to overturn laws written generations ago by rulers who never stepped foot outside of Half Moon.”

“It can’t be that easy,” Catra says in disbelief.

“I’ll put it before the council tomorrow,” C’yra decides, “I’m more than confident we’ll get a majority vote.”

“I’m so happy your hunger for power works in my favor this time.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll send Hakim to grab you even earlier tomorrow.”

Catra glares at C’yra, but it does nothing to wipe away C’yra’s smirk. “I’ll get you back for that.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

“I’ll get Dad to help,” Catra says, “And Pisica and Felicity, and I’ll strike when you least expect it.”

“Okay, Catra,” C’yra starts nudging Catra away, “Get out of here before Hakim can rope you into something else.”

“Watch your back.”

“Tell Adora hi for me.”

~*~

Ramiro smiles at Catra as she enters the library, and she gives him a quick wave before making her way to the back corner where she knows she’ll find Felix hunched over a pile of books.

Sure enough, she finds him in his usual spot idly eating from a bowl of fruit and furiously marking down notes. He barely even acknowledges Catra as she sits besides pushing a book her way.

Felix makes one last note before closing his notebook around his pencil. “Using the library to escape your royal responsibilities?”

“I come bearing gifts, actually,” Catra sets the heavy book down on the table, “Adora found it. Apparently, it was found in the Bright Moon libraries, and everyone agreed it should be brought back here.”

“Is that—?” Felix picks up the book like it fragile and inspects the spine, “It can’t be.”

Catra smiles, “It’s Vivek’s histories of Bright Moon and Half Moon as sister cities.”

“This has been lost for a very long time.”

“All it took was Adora getting bored between meetings.”

Felix sets the book down and pulls Catra into a hug. It still feels slightly awkward, but it’s something she’s adjusted to over the years.

Felix likes hugging, just like Scorpia. The least Catra can do is try to return the sentiment.

“Why isn’t Adora here so I can hug her?”

“She went back to Bright Moon after lunch.”

“I’ll see her at dinner though, correct?”

Catra laughs, “I’ll be sure to warn her.”

“What’s her favorite dessert?” Felix asks excitedly, “I’ll make it for her.”

“It’s just a book.”

Felix grabs Catra’s shoulders, and she freezes for just a moment before relaxing.

“This book has been lost for decades, Catra,” Felix says, her eyes and tone almost comically grave, “Adora is a hero.”

Catra snorts, “That’s overdramatic.”

“Think of what we could learn!” Felix grabs the book again and opens it to the front page, “Think about how the relationship between Half Moon and Bright Moon could benefit from this.”

“The relationship between the two cities has been stable and amicable since the Magicats returned.”

“That’s not the point.”

Catra laughs, “She really likes fruity stuff. The last time Bright Moon made fruit tarts for some celebration, I didn’t hear the end of it.”

“Fruity,” Felix says while thumbing through the pages carefully, “I can work with that.”

Catra settles into the quiet sounds of the library, and Felix points to the book he shoved over to her when she arrived. “If you would like to avoid advisors and councils, I think that book would really interest you.”

“What’s it about?” Catra asks, flipping the cover over and reading the author’s acknowledgements.

Catra watches Felix lips quirk up in a barely contained smile. “Binding ceremonies.”

Catra slams the cover shut, “I’ll be adding patricide to my intended matricide.”

Felix starts laughing despite Catra’s empty threat before handing Catra something different.

When Catra refuses to take it, he says, “This is a book on the first generation of Magicats. You were asking about them the other day.”

Catra takes the book and opens to the first chapter discussing the Magicats’ nomadic roots, “You think you’re very funny.”

“I just think C’yra gets all of the fun in picking on you.”

“So you took your chance.”

“I thought it was hilarious.”

Catra rolls her eyes, “I’m sure you did.”

They settle into reading, and Catra is just to the part that describes why a nomadic people finally decided to put down roots when Felix says her name to get her attention.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I share C’yra’s view,” he says with a soft smile Catra’s come to expect from him in these quieter moments, “Just because you’re the princess doesn’t mean you have to bind yourself to someone, and she doesn’t have to be a Magicat.”

“I figured you would tell me if you had a problem with Adora sometime in the last five years.”

“You know how much we adore her.”

Catra smiles, “I do.”

“I just didn’t want that to go unspoken,” Felix says, “I didn’t want you to think I didn’t support you or your relationship because of outdated expectations or laws.”

“I would never think that of you, Dad.”

And Felix can’t help but smile again, and Catra smiles too.

“Well, good,” Felix says, opening Vivek’s histories again.

Catra breathes out a soft laugh before returning to her own reading.

~*~

Catra wakes up to bright light filtering in through the windows and open balcony doors, and she immediately closes them tight. She cuddles into whatever she’s holding onto, and she realizes it’s a pillow and not her girlfriend.

Adora had to get up early for a meeting of the Queen’s Guard. Catra vaguely remembers Adora giving her a light kiss before leaving the room.

The door opens, and Catra hears Adora’s soft laughter form the doorway.

“You look displeased,” Adora says with a light laugh.

“I hate sleeping here.”

Catra feels the bed dip just so, and then Adora is running her hands over Catra’s back, her nails gently scratching up and down Catra’s spine.

Catra’s purrs are almost instant at the affection.

“You did live here for months when you joined the Alliance.”

Catra opens her eyes just a bit and squints up at Adora. “I didn’t know then that I had a wonderfully dark room waiting for me in Half Moon.”

Adora rolls her eyes, “I still don’t understand how you sleep so well on this bed.”

“I am no longer in the Horde, Adora. I’m not going to sleep on a cot.”

“It’s too—” Catra watches Adora push her hand into the bed, “—squishy.”

“So, ask her Royal Pain in My Ass for something in between.”

“We only sleep here a few nights a month,” Adora says, ignoring Catra’s nickname for Glimmer, “It doesn’t seem worth it.”

“Hey,” Catra grabs Adora’s hand and interlocks their fingers, “If you’re not comfortable, we can go back to the cot.”

Adora brings Catra’s hand up to her lips and kisses along Catra’s knuckles. “I’m more comfortable in this bed than you are on the cot.”

“Are you sure?” Catra pulls Adora’s hand gently to try and get her to join Catra on the bed. The warm morning with the sun seeping into her fur and with significantly less to do than at home has Catra wanting to spend all day together in bed.

“I’m sure,” Adora lets Catra pull her down, kicking her boots off before hugging Catra to her chest, “As long as I have you, I sleep just fine.”

Catra slips her hands under Adora’s shirt and presses a soft kiss to Adora’s throat.

“How was your meeting?”

“Boring,” Adora presses a kiss to Catra’s forehead and starts running her fingers through Catra’s hair, “It seems like every meeting is boring nowadays.”

“So, you, Bow, and Glimmer spent the entire time passing notes and not listening.”

Adora laughs softly, “Angella caught us too.”

“Seriously?” Catra moves away enough to look up at Adora, and Adora is smiling.

“We got lectured,” she says with a smile, “We haven’t gotten lectured since the war.”

Catra smirks, “Who started passing the notes?”

She expects it to be Glimmer, but Adora’s cheeks go slightly rosy, and Catra laughs.

“It started with my doodles!” Adora tries to defend herself, “And then Bow was adding things on, and Glimmer noticed and started to do the same, and before we knew it, we had notes and doodles and were being reprimanded in front of every important official in Bright Moon.”

“How embarrassing,” Catra says through squeaky giggles, “I wish I could’ve been there.”

“If you really want, I’ll do the same thing at our Princess Alliance meeting tomorrow morning.”

“It’s not funny if it’s planned.”

Adora glares at her, “That does not mean you’re going to do anything to get us in trouble.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Catra lies, already thinking through a few ways to distract Adora, “I’m completely innocent.”

“I’m not getting lectured two days in a row.”

Catra snorts, “We’re adults, Adora.”

“You’re not going to do anything, Catra.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Catra fights a smile, “I definitely will not do anything at all that will result in a lecture from Angella.”

Adora sighs and resigns herself to whatever she knows Catra is planning. She loves the little mischievous sparkle she can see in Catra’s mismatched eyes, though. It reminds her of playing pranks in the Fright Zone, Catra coming up with all of their plans and Adora helping her to enact them to torture their squad.

She remembers one prank that left Lonnie covered in green goo, and Catra laughed so hard her laughter turned squeaky in the way Adora loves.

“I love you, Catra,” Adora runs her thumb over Catra’s bottom lip.

It’s not something they say a lot. It’s something they didn’t necessarily know the right words for for a very long time, and they prefer showing rather than telling, but Adora can’t help herself.

Catra looks so cute and warm snuggled against her, and she’s so happy in this moment that the words spill out.

“I love you too, Adora,” Catra responds easily before leaning forward for a soft kiss. Her nails run gently over Adora’s back, and Adora’s fingers card through Catra long, tangled hair, and they take their time. The kiss is slow and sweet, because there’s no reason to rush.

For once, there’s no impending doom. There’s no great armies to defeat or an entire planet to heal and rebuild.

There’s just the two of them, soft and warm against each other, and Catra thinks about missing the Princess Alliance meeting, thinks about holing up in here with Adora for days just kissing and being together.

Adora kisses her one last time before pulling back, a smirk on her lips.

“Glimmer’s going to bring up marriage when she sees you,” Adora says, biting her lip to stop a grin, “Apparently she feels like she needs to get this from all angles.”

Catra groans, her forehead thumping onto Adora’s sternum. “Why is she still on that?”

“It’s Bright Moon tradition,” Adora says, rolling into her back.

Adora smiles as Catra moves so that she’s lying completely on top of Adora, nuzzling into Adora’s neck and running her nails up and down Adora’s sides.

“To pester your friends?” Catra asks, rolling her eyes.

“To get married,” Adora answers, even though she knows Catra’s question was rhetorical.

“Neither of us are from Bright Moon,” Catra complains, her voice muffled against Adora's throat “Shouldn’t that stop her from bringing it up?”

“Well, technically, I kind of am,” Adora’s hand slips under Catra’s shirt to rest at the small of her back, “It’s not like She-Ra has her own kingdom.”

“You’re not even from this planet,” Catra huffs out, “I think that means that we can do whatever we want, and Princess Sparkles is going to have to deal with it whether she likes it or not.”

“Well, maybe Glimmer will listen to you.”

Catra hums a response, far more comfortable than she was when she woke up, but even as she starts to drift off, a small insecurity nags at her, poking and prodding, and there’s this small whisper, a quiet voice that says, Adora deserves better than someone that won’t even bind themselves to her, that cuts through the warmth and comfort.

She knows that they talked about it, but maybe one quick conversation while they got ready in the morning wasn’t enough. Maybe Adora’s opinion has changed since then. Maybe—

“Catra?”

Adora’s voice cuts off the intrusive thoughts, one hand coming up to bury itself in Catra’s long mane.

Some of the tension leaves her body, and it takes Catra a moment to realize her hands are fisted into Adora’s shirt, her nails close to ripping through the fabric.

“Hey,” Adora’s voice is so soft and gentle, “What is it?”

“Are you sure?” Catra asks without moving her face from the crook of Adora’s neck.

“Am I sure about what?”

Catra sighs. “That you don’t want to get married.”

Adora’s hand moves from her hair to her cheek, and Catra doesn’t resist when Adora gently moves her so that Catra is looking down into bright blue eyes and hair illuminated by the late morning glow.

Adora’s thumb runs across Catra’s cheek, and Catra leans into the contact. “I know it was a quick conversation, but I meant what I said,” Adora whispers, her lips pulling up into a small smile, “I’m happy where we are now. I love you. I don’t need anything formal like a Bright Moon wedding or a Magicats bonding ceremony to make that official.”

“I just thought—” Catra trails off, looking away, because now that Adora has assured her, she feels like she overreacted.

“Are you happy, Catra?”

Catra’s eyes widen, her ears twitching just so, and she looks down at Adora again.

Her Adora, who never gave up on her, even when she gave up on herself.

Her Adora, that fought for her and came to Beast Island without a second thought.

Just, her Adora.

“Of course I’m happy,” Catra says honestly, bringing her forehead down to Adora’s.

“And I am too,” Adora says softly, “If we’re already happy, why don’t we stay where we are?”

Catra smiles, “I’d like that.”

“It’s settled then,” Catra opens her eyes to see Adora smiling, open and bright and so her, “And I can tell Glimmer to back off on the marriage talk.”

“I would also really like that,” Catra says, sinking back down into Adora and getting comfortable.

“I’ll ask for Bow’s help.” Adora’s hands slip back under Catra’s shirt and run over her back.

Catra hums and smiles against Adora’s throat.

Adora talks about this and that, small stories of her and Bow and Glimmer, little moments that Catra misses while Catra’s busy in Half Moon, and she listens to every word, giving a small acknowledgement every now and then to let Adora know that she’s still awake, still listening, still interested.

At one point, Catra drifts off without realizing it, and she wakes up to Adora pressing kisses against her cheeks and nose and lips, softly waking her up so that they can get something to eat, and even when Catra bats her away with a groan, she opens her eyes to Adora smiling at her like she’s the only thing in the universe.

It’s a smile Catra loves and has loved since they were kids whispering in the middle of the night in the barracks, pausing at every small noise and rushing under the covers when the patrols came through to make sure everyone was asleep.

It’s the smile Catra loved even when she hated Adora, fighting against her on opposite sides of a war they ended together.

It’s the smile Catra sees every morning when she wakes up to soft kisses and Adora’s arm pulling Catra even closer to her.

Catra smiles back, warm and happy and content, because she wasn’t lying when Adora asked her if she’s happy.

Every morning she wakes up to Adora, every moment they share together, every spar with quips thrown and every meal they share with Catra’s parents or lunches spent with the Best Friend Squad makes her happier than she ever believed she could be.

Catra wishes she could go back in time and talk to that scared little girl bundled up in Horde-issued blankets crying on the bottom bunk. She wishes she could give her one more promise, a promise that she will make it through. She’ll grow to be stronger and kinder, and she’ll finally learn that love is not always conditional. She’ll find people who love and understand her, and even though she pushes them away at first, they’ll fight for her because they’ll think she’s worth fighting for.

And she wishes that she could tell that girl who loved Adora with all of the feelings she never understood that one day, Adora would love her back. They’ll kiss in the woods of Beast Island and it’ll be like puzzles pieces finally fitting together to make something beautiful and unique and theirs.

You'll be happy, Catra wishes she could tell her younger self, You'll finally be happy.