#i’ll buy you a new cape. TEN new capes…

[sieglinde-freud]

sometimes i forget fates has the fuckass tattered clothes thing when your unit takes too much damage and im always forcibly reminded when im watching odin nostank the entire map and suddenly the next combat animation shows the dude in a ragged ass cape like baby im sorry i didnt mean it… odinnnn :(

[amberdablade]

💛💙❤~Octavia x GN!Reader~❤💙💛

Hope you enjoy my latest creation!

Requested by: Click the link to find out :3

TW: Swearing, panic attacks.

Y/n’s Pov

       Octavia ran over to you carrying another one of the ugly hats you had found earlier. It was black with green checkered shapes smeared throughout the fabric, and on top of the ugly piece of clothing sprouted four or so purple feathers spreading in all directions.

       “You should try this one on, Y/n!” she called in her accent, “it might complete your look!” You laughed at the owl’s joke and did as she said, looking like a complete dork as you did so.

       You and Octavia were shopping at the cheapest store in all of hell. Everything that was being sold was either ugly pieces of clothing or cheap plastic items filled with hazardous chemicals to make it look sellable. The two of you had been shopping here ever since you were kids, always enjoying the crap people would buy for themselves at such a price. You both rarely bought anything but now and then you two would find something you both loved enough to take home. Today, the green-speckled hat might just be that object.

       You looked at yourself in a nearby mirror. You were already wearing a black cape with velvet red sweats. Adding the hat to the look made you into a complete laughing stock. Octavia giggled at your new appearance.

       “We have got to buy this thing,” she said. You nodded and turned to look at her, her beauty taking your breath away as it always did.

       You liked her. Even though Octavia was your best and only friend, you had fallen head over heels for her ever since you turned fifteen. Now, nearly four years later, you debated whether or not to tell her due to your feelings never ceasing. You would’ve told her a while back, but due to the thought of her rejecting you and losing the bond you two had was enough to make you shy away. Besides, many had confessed their love for her in the past, but all were rejected since they didn’t have true feelings; they were only after the Goetia fame and fortune. You could care less about Octavia being the heir to such a name of power, you loved Octavia for Octavia and nothing more. But why would she believe you? After all, in her eyes, you’d just be another one after her name and not her heart.

       You pushed your thoughts away as she took the hat from your head with a smile.

       “I’ll pay for it this time,” she said, “after all you paid last time. It’s only fair.” You smiled back and nodded again. You walked up to the imp cashier and watched Octavia pay for the item.

       “You’re quiet today, Y/n,” she started, “you doing okay?” You looked her in the eyes hesitantly and nodded once more.

       “Yeah! Sorry, I’ve got my head in the clouds today,” you replied, “didn’t get much sleep last night.” The cashier handed the paid-for hat to Octavia in a plastic bag and wished both of you a good day. Octavia playfully rolled her eyes and chuckled as the two of you made your way out.

       “Totally understandable. Happens to me all the time.” She placed her arm around you causing your heart to skip a beat and led you out of the store. The air outside of the building was cool and refreshing with a slight breeze. The air smelled of cigars and the moon painted with a pentagram shone high above your heads spreading its reddish light down upon Pentagram City.

       “Well, I should probably head home, my mom’s probably upset with the servants for not knowing where I am,” she said, releasing her warm touch from you.

       “I had fun with you, Via,” you replied, trying your best not to sound weird. You were debating whether or not to share your true feelings with her. But just as you were about to speak she asked you something you would’ve never expected.

       “Hey, Y/n, I was wondering if tomorrow night you were free to come hang out? My friend Loona’s hosting a wicked party at her friend’s house tomorrow at 9:00 pm. There’s gonna be food, music, and games and I couldn’t help but ask you to come since I know you’ll make it ten times better than if you weren’t there. If you’re not sure you can always text me later. I-” You didn’t let her finish, the answer was clear as day.

       “Yes, I would love to come!” you blurted. Octavia didn’t seem to mind the interruption when her face lit up with a smile and her feathers ruffled with excitement.

       “Wonderful! Uh… I mean cool,” she said, regaining her normal stature. “I’ll see you then I guess. Bye, Y/n!” You waved in farewell as Octavia walked down the street in the direction of her home, the Goetia palace. You watched her walk away until you couldn’t see her form any longer and sighed.

      “Off to the shelter,” you thought. Unlike the girl of your dreams, you were poor and homeless ever since your parents died when you were eleven. No one was there to take you in, so you made a life of your own living on the streets. Recently however a homeless shelter had taken you in along with your situation. It had been the first time in ages since you had warm meals and a decent place to rest. You never bothered to tell Via about your struggles with survival. She knew about your parents but she just assumed an aunt, uncle, or even a distant cousin had taken you in. She had questioned your ragged clothes and stick-thin appearance before, but you always told her “bad paycheck” or “stomach bug.” She always believed you but after a while, the lies had begun to take a toll on you. “You shouldn’t lie to her,” was one of the many thoughts that consumed your mind as you wandered ‘home.’ “You don’t want her to find out the hard way, it’s not worth such a risk.” You agreed with yourself. Maybe it was time to stop the lying and secret-keeping.

       “Tomorrow night at the party,” you thought, “that’s when I’ll tell her how I truly feel and about my real situation back home.”

Octavia’s Pov

       Octavia was ecstatic that Y/n could come to the party. She adored them to the point of never wanting to leave their side. Parting a few moments ago was enough to leave her heart feeling empty and bring her mood down, especially as the Goetia palace came closer into view. The last thing she wanted to deal with was her mother and the fact that she had been gone nearly all day without excuse.

      “She’s bound to ask a shit ton of questions,” she thought with a sigh. When she arrived at the crystalline doors of the palace, she pulled her hood up from her jacket and tried her best to look unnoticeable. She took a deep breath. “Here we go, let’s just hope she’s not yelling at dad again.” She opened the door and was greeted by the palace’s shine and splendor. She walked through the main entrance and through a few of the corridors as quietly as possible to avoid her mother’s prying curiosity. From the sounds of it, it didn’t seem like her father was home, but that had proven to be wrong many times. Just as she turned around a bend in the hallway nearest to her room, she was met with her mother’s tall fuming form.

       “Well??!” With hands on her hips and feathers ruffled with rage, Stella stared holes into her daughter. “Where the fuck have you been off to today?! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Did you ever stop to think how worried I could’ve been?!”

       “Like fuck you’d care about me,” Octavia shot back, “all you care about is yelling at everyone twenty-four seven.” Stella ignored the disrespectful comment and continued like Via had said nothing.

       “Where have you been?! Hopefully not getting fucked by any of your impish friends like your father!”

       “Shut up! It's none of your business where I was, now leave me alone!” she shouted. Octavia shoved past her mother and bolted to her room. She slammed the door shut and locked it, beginning to feel her eyes burn with tears of hatred. She sat beside her bed and hugged herself into a defensive ball as her mother stomped away. Octavia wiped away the tears in her eyes and pulled out her phone. She opened up the lock screen to find her wallpaper set to her and Y/n drinking smoothies. She smiled at the memory.

       It had been an unnaturally hot day in hell, and the two of you had decided to go out for ice cream. When the shop reported being all out, she had invited you over to her house while her parents were away to make smoothies instead. The servants had made some for both of you and the rest was history.

       Y/n might’ve not realized it at the time, but that was Octavia’s favorite memory.

       She grabbed her headphones and began listening to music, every song reminding her of them. After a while, she fell into a deep sleep with her final thoughts being everything to do with Y/n.

      “I think… I might love them,” was her final thought as she drifted off to sleep.

Y/n’s Pov

       It was the next day and the night of the party. Octavia had texted you the directions for the house and what time she would be there. Butterflies and feelings of anxiousness clouded your thoughts ever so slightly as the time of telling her your feelings grew nearer and nearer. You tried your best not to think about it, but every time you brushed away the thought it only came back, stronger and fiercer. By the time you arrived at the gateway to the house, you were almost dizzy with anxiety. You tried to remain focused and took in a deep breath to soothe your beating heart.

       The house you were standing in front of was not just any house, but a mansion. The outside walls were made of dark oak wood and the third floor was a greenhouse; windows enclosing the roof. Vines of ivy covered the pillars that held up the overhanging portion of the roof in the front. And the garden… the garden was something else. All types of roses, lilacs, and even the flowers of hell littered the front lawn. You couldn’t help but think that Stolas, Octavia’s father who loved to garden, had been here before and played around with it.

       You overcame your awe and walked up the pathway that led to the entrance. As you walked closer, Octavia’s unmistakable form became visible to you standing by the door looking down at her phone.

       “Octavia!” you called out. You saw her lift her head at your voice and smile.

       “Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” You walked up to her, the faint sound of music reaching your ears from the inside of the house. You smiled and looked her in the eyes, nearly getting lost in her beauty (again).  

       “I’m glad I could come,” you said gently. She put her phone away, patted your right shoulder, and turned to knock on the door. About a moment after she knocked, the door opened to reveal a red-eyed hellhound holding a wine bottle. Her face smiled and her white and gray tail began to wag.

       “Octavia!” So glad you could come!” she said. She turned to look at you and eyed you up and down. “I see you brought your date with you.” Your face turned beet red while Octavia slightly blushed.

       “Oh, we’re not dating,” she quickly replied. “This is my friend, Y/n. Y/n, this is Loona.”

       “Sup, Y/n. Nice to meet you,” Loona replied with a smirk. You felt your face return to its normal color.

       “Nice to meet you too, Loona. I’ve heard great things about you.” Loon chuckled.

       “Good to know I’m still liked.” She took a sip from the wine bottle and gestured to come in. “Come on in you two. Refreshments are in the kitchen, food should be to your left if the rest of the hellhounds haven’t eaten it already, the bedrooms are upstairs, and the garden on the roof is free to use if you need fresh air. Completely understandable in this environment.” Octavia thanked Loona as you took in your surroundings.

       The house was in absolute chaos. Hell hounds were practically everywhere, laying on the couch on their phones, tearing up the couch, savagely eating the offered food leaving crumbs and messes everywhere, spilling wine and whiskey, making out in the corners, and screaming the lyrics to the already ear-splitting music. This was practically your least favorite environment ever. You couldn’t stand overstimulation like this for too long, it would begin to drive you crazy and gift you nauseating headaches. You and Octavia were practically the only non-hellhound in the whole party and it brought you a little too far out of your comfort zone.

       You shook your head to clear the fog and the anxiety that was beginning to overcome you. “I need to do this for Octavia,” you thought, “I don’t want her to be disappointed.” Octavia grasped your hand and smiled.

       “So,” she said, “what shall we do first?” The sudden attention nearly overwhelmed you and you took your hand away.

       “I-I need some time alone,” you said in a panic. You tried your best to ignore the noises and yells as you bolted away. You headed towards the only place that Loona said would be quiet: the greenhouse.

Octavia’s Pov

       Y/n’s sudden reaction shocked Octavia. Did she say something, do something wrong? She watched as they ran up the wooden stairs leading to the top floor. The pain in her heart was unmistakable and uncontrollable. She stood in the middle of the living room, frozen. She debated whether to follow them or stay put. She wasn’t sure of what to do in a situation like this. She was usually the one that acted like this, not the other way around. She assumed they were having a panic attack.

       “What do I normally feel like when I’m having a panic attack?” she thought. She sat on one of the couches near a hellhound on his phone as she tried to put herself in Y/n’s situation. She had experienced many panic attacks before, so it wasn’t difficult to imagine what they were going through.

       It was so difficult to concentrate with all the noise, nobody was calm and nobody was quiet.

      “I need somewhere calm to think, maybe I can make this right.” She thought of what Loona had said earlier. “I think I’ll go up to the greenhouse.”

Y/n’s Pov

       You entered through the glass doors of the greenhouse, heart still beating fast and head continuously dizzy.

       “I ruined it, I ruined my chance,” you mumbled between tears. You shut the door behind you and fled to a stone bench near a flowered red palm-like tree.

       The greenhouse was beautiful. Flowers were everywhere, the space was dimly lit while the moon once again shone overhead, adding a luminous glow to the area. A few butterflies flew around the bushes and trees busily attending to the flowers. You rested your head in your hands as more tears came down. You could never be with Octavia, and the time had come to accept that as a fact. It would be pointless to pursue someone as rich and powerful as she was.

       And beautiful.

       You heard the glass door open and the sight that followed. The footsteps sounded familiar to you causing you to lift your head in curiosity. You turned towards the doorway only to find a thick trunk of a tree blocking your view. The source of the footsteps rounded the corner of the tree and the two of you locked eyes.

       It was Octavia. Slouched and teary-eyed just like yourself. A butterfly flew in front of your face.

       “Octavia?”

       “Y/n?” You both stared at one another in silence for what seemed like ages until Octavia ran over to you and hugged you. She snuggled into your neck.

       “I’m sorry about earlier, if it was because of me I promise I won’t ever do it again, I just need you to tell me what I did so I can know and make things right again. Please, whatever it takes to get you back.” The sudden touch and affection shocked you, even her words were enough to keep you stiff. You somehow fought through the nerves, relaxed, and hugged Octavia back.

       “It's…uh... It's okay, Via, I promise you didn’t do anything wrong… I just get stressed in loud environments and I…” Octavia’s eyes met yours. It nearly broke her heart to see her cry like this. Maybe telling her your feelings right now wasn’t the best time…

       “No, I have to do this, I can’t just chicken out now. Not when I’m this close.”

       “Octavia…” you started, “I have to tell you something I-” you paused then took a deep breath, “I love you, Octavia. I’ve loved you for nearly five years now and… Look I promise I don’t love you for your wealth, I love you-” Octavia didn’t let you finish. She interrupted you with a kiss on the lips, causing you to become flustered and a hot mess. She ceased the kiss after a few moments and smiled.

       “That’s good because it would be awkward if I was the only one who had feelings for my best friend.” Her reaction and response filled you to the brim with happiness, all you could do in return was hug her tightly and smile. “We should get out of here,” she continued, “I should’ve never brought you here. How about we go to your house? If that’s alright with you of course.” You sighed and your smile faded.

       “Octavia, I need to be honest with you about something.” You explained to her about your homelessness and what happened after your parents died. Octavia listened with great attention and concern as you rambled on. When you finished she smiled and laughed.

       “Oh, Y/n, why didn’t you tell me this a while ago? You could've lived with me, I have plenty of rooms in the palace, and I’m sure my dad wouldn’t mind.” You shrugged.

       “I thought you would be mad at me or something for not telling you,” you responded.

       “Well, I am a little frustrated but I can see where you're coming from. Tell you what, you can come over to my house tonight and hang out with me. Both of my parents are gone and we can watch movies together if you’d like.” You nodded and smiled.

       “That sounds lovely.” You kissed her again and the two of you left for the palace, Octavia’s hand in yours.~

-

Word Count: 3,199

Hope that wasn't too wordy and complicated. I wrote this over the course of about a week and it ended up getting long :|

Cya next time!

[alabaster-moon]

*I* want to hear about your stuff! Tell me about your stuff!

i- that is so ridiculously sweet of you… i thank you, truly (and also totally don’t know where to start ohmigod). this may be a touch long, as i have a lot of stuff, and much of it never gets voiced… apologies for the sheer length.

i mean first and major project (that won’t be posted here for reasons like enjoying being faceless) is my cosplay for an upcoming convention. i’ve been planning since literally last year to make a megamind cosplay, and it’s finally starting to come together! the cape’s nearly done, i have a solid plan on how to do the suit (after a tiiiiiiny mishap with my first attempt… like the cardboard i used to protect layers from paint sticking to the back of the thing… heh) and it’s just… it’s finally looking like it’s gonna work, and i’m Very Excited. i need to buy more spikes though. but that’s on brand.

i’ve also got another thing planned for that con - a dear friend of mine (who should be asleep now, she doesn’t know about it) is a brilliant fic writer, and i only ever see her for this con… i want to try and hand bind one of her fics to give to her. she has given blanket permission before, and it would be a single copy for her; i won’t have time to make one for myself. i’m very, very new to bookbinding: i have no skills, but i have the audacity, which is basically the same thing. fingers crossed i can get that done, i plan on doing the typeset on tuesday, wish me luck~

there are also another fic i was binding - i don’t think that author follows me on here, and they know about theirs, so i can state this too. but that one i was going to bind one copy for me, then one for them, so their copy was Nice and Pretty (and i can fix the bloody typesetting mistake on page 116 for theirs). but like, and this part they don’t know about, i was deciding on what i wanted for the cover of the fic when they said that they buy themselves sort of congratulatory rings when they finish a longfic, and posted a pic of them. so i’m going to find a way to make the cover of this book match the ring they treated themselves with as congratulations. i think it’d be cute. i hope they like it.

last week, i got fabric for two other cosplays; a william james moriarty and a james bond, and while i’m uncertain when i will be able to work on them, i am very excited. i plan to tailor both suits myself (again with the sheer audacity), and because of that i can make fun hidden things… like the crimson red lining in william’s jacket, and pastel pink lining the shade of bond’s manga cover in bond’s. i’m also considering embroidering the characters’ initials into the lining of their jackets too, because if you can go fancy, why not go all out? i managed to get my hands on a lovely wool for the waistcoats rather cheap, which was nice, and the patterns i have seem straightforward enough. i do plan to remake my sherlock’s jacket too, as the one i currently use was my mother’s; it is both too feminine and i would be devastated if i wrecked it… when i make his i’ll make the lining blue. small details, but the thought of them makes me so freaking happy.

a bit of a different one now, but i’ve also set myself on a little personal journey of transcribing the whole of the yuumori musicals - they have become so dear to me, and i want to appreciate them somehow. that being said, my primary art form is music, so short of covering them (which i’m tempted to do anyway, i’ve wanted to learn the violinist’s parts since the first ten minutes of op1) there’s… not a lot i can do. but making sheet music? yeah, i spent a three year degree on that, i can do that much. it’s a tough slog (@ sherlock’s actor specifically who very much enjoys going into free timing just on the good violin parts… hiraryo why you do me like this?) but it’s been so rewarding so far, and honestly im getting faster at it, which i’m also so glad to see. (i also have a very long meta about the role of the organ in op4 that i need to format into a tumblr post… it is currently across like six or seven paragraph messages in my friend’s dms. apologies to her notifications).

not so much a thing i did, but of late i’ve also had a wonderful time exploring the 2.5d musical scene; i had already known about hetamyu since like 2018, and the time between finding yuumori and finding morimyu was Very, Very Short. but i’ve had a friend guiding me through a bunch of others, which has also led me back to my very first manga fandom via tenimyu. i didn’t realise how much i’d missed prince of tennis until i saw those boys on stage… like those characters really were something so special to me growing up, and i’m thankful to have them back. i kind of want to have a look at the hakuouki musicals properly soon (the first live yaisa… iykyk), and i promised another friend that i’d watch the black butler musicals with them, so there’s a journey ahead of me and i am so excited to see what it brings.

there’s also a couple of bits and pieces, meta posts that i’ve been too scared to actually voice (i just see certain similarities between my last fandom and my current fandom and i want to write the comparison post to recommend the thing i enjoy to all my favourite people but Fear yanno cause what if they don’t like it) and all the plot bunnies that i either don’t have the time or don’t have the skill to complete (mostly the time one). i also lowkey decided on a whim to join flufftober, so that’ll be fun. i laid out the doc, and i have a really nice idea for two of the prompts, so we’ll see how that one goes.

also i’m thinking of reviving my university final project… i’d made an utau, and then wrote an album for her, but never got it to a state where i was content enough to release it. it’s like the one thing i regret… but it’s never too late to bring back, right? i can revamp the songs and bring her back properly… if i have time, i really want to do it.

but yeah. that’s my current stuff, barring one or two things that are group efforts and as such idk what i am able to say. hopefully the formatting is somewhat coherent. i thank you for giving me the mental permission to voice it all though… that was lovely of you ^^

[coeurdastronaute]

Atlas: Saturn

Previously on Atlas

With shortness of breath I'll explain the infinite How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist

The city was still waking as the sun cracked over the horizon. The view from the penthouse saw the lake to the east, now glowing pink and orange before the sun would be hidden behind the thick, heavy clouds that hung like a low ceiling. For just a moment, the city had sunlight before the inevitable storm brewing in the north would descend upon them, filling up gutters and overflowing rain spouts. 

Kara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, remembering and categorizing every smell she could find, the fresh sweets at the coffee shop down the block, the oil from the cars that kicked up the damp streets, the city, growing beneath her feet with a breeze that wafted off the water and reminded her of the pier and the boats pulling and pushing their wares from the water to the shore. 

There were flashes, of her captivity, sometimes. She had to center herself, to escape it, to pull herself from the terror that now seized her when she thought about Xenon’s hands around her throat, or the soul-freezing darkness of the cell he kept her locked in for too long. The instant terror would make her muscles lock up, her joints refusing to bend, her heart refusing to slow. It burned, in that frozen, hollow burn that only frozen, wintery sleet could burn skin, numbing it as well. 

Fear was new for her, almost. She always had a less than healthy amount of a fear. It was in her nature to have less things to be afraid of, being indestructible. But now, she had more fear than she knew what to do with, and it broke parts of her. Tiny parts. Infinitesimal parts. Like a sculptor chiseling away at marble. Tiny cracks and pebbles of her being became a pile of dust at her feet, and there was no putting it back.

The door to the balcony opened quietly. Kara had already listened to Lena grumble in bed that it was empty. She heard the patting of a hand on the vacant side of the bed. She heard the sigh. She heard the footsteps down the hall, padding along to find her, to situate her, to locate and lock her back into the world. 

But she hadn’t moved. She waited for Lena to come save her as she always had. 

Arms circled around her waist and Kara opened her eyes, smiling to herself as a chin dug itself into her back and Lena Luthor draped herself over her protectively, like a living cape. She felt warm lips on her shoulder and a cold nose on the back of her neck. 

“You love sleeping,” Lena reminded her. 

“I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“Dreams again?”

Kara snorted. Dreams was a polite way to put it. Nightmares. Violent, filthy, terrifying nightmares that made her skin crawl and made her sweat through the sheets. Nightmares that felt so real, she couldn’t wake herself out of them. 

Arms squeezed. 

“Yeah.”

“What time is your appointment with Dr. Kulhari?”

“Ten.” 

“What can I do, right now, to fix this?” Lena whispered. She rested her head against Kara’s spine and took a deep breath. “Anything. I’ll do anything.” 

Kara clenched her fists as she braced against the railing and swallowed a thick lump that seemed to perpetually exist within her throat now. She wanted to go back to work. She wanted to be back on patrol. She wanted to not feel so tiny and powerless. She wanted Lena to not look at her like it was something that could be fixed. She wanted to punch things. She wanted to not be so angry. She wanted to go back to how things were, when she didn’t feel like she was losing her grip on everything. 

“I’m doing my best,” Kara sighed. 

“I know. I’m… I… I thought I lost you, and I feel like I’m losing you. And there wasn’t anything I could do when you were gone. There’s nothing I can do when you’re here. But I’ll do anything. You want to go to a small island and live in an ocean-front villa for six weeks? We can go. You want to visit your mom? We can be there in a few hours. You want ice cream? I’ll buy you every kind. I can’t fix this, but I can’t lose you.” 

Her breath was warm against her back and Kara liked that-- the feeling of Lena being alive and desperate behind her. She ran her hand along Lena’s forearm that squeezed incredibly tightly around her middle. 

“If you think you could ever lose me, than clearly you don’t understand exactly what I did to get back here.” 

“I meant--”

“I know,” she muttered with a heavy sigh of her own. “You fix it. You do. You make it easier. I’ll be better. I’m trying my best.” 

The bruises were all healed, her body worked as it always had. Kara wondered how long it would take for her brain to follow suit, or if it ever could. She didn’t want to share that fear with anyone just yet, especially Lena. 

“No rush. I just want you to know that whatever you need, I’m ready. No notice at all. You want to move to Nova Scotia? We can. Melbourne? Quit your job? Eat a dozen donuts?”

Kara chuckled despite herself before finally turning around in her girlfriend’s tight grasp and hugging her back as eagerly as she could. 

“I’ll be okay.”

“I know, I just don’t like this.” 

“Having something beyond your control?” 

“Yes. Exactly.” 

Kara smiled and earned a kiss on her neck, on her jaw, on her cheek as her hands slipped to Lena’s hips and then lower as she pushed herself up on her tiptoes to accomplish her mission. 

“I heard you broke into a secured, top-secret government facility and then used private, proprietary technology to find me. Sara was a fan, though my sister and her wife were not.” 

“You know I like to dabble in a little cyber-terrorism in my spare time. Is it really a surprise?” 

“Not at all. Not even surprised that a living computer and an alien from the future were amazed at what you were capable of doing.” 

“Not soon enough. You were the hero who escaped on her own. If I had been able to--”

“Nope. Stop. You did it all,” Kara promised. “Alex is currently on a warpath to figure out how you did it.” 

“That’ll keep her busy for a while then. I’m quite good.” 

It wasn’t the full smile she was used to, but Lena took Kara’s grin as a victory in and of itself, tugging her neck down to kiss her eagerly. 

“I’ll be fine,” Kara promised again. “Want to go see a movie with me this afternoon?” 

“Very much. Can we sneak in food? I’ll bring my big purse.” 

“Sounds good to me,” she smiled a little longer. “You’re not going to get in trouble missing work?” 

“No one will miss me. Jess is more efficient than your sister at keeping people at bay.” 

Lena grinned now, proud of herself despite her girlfriend rolling her eyes at the dig. But Kara just picked her up by the waist until legs wrapped around her and arms clutched at her shoulders. 

“Do you think I should tell Alex to recruit your assistant?” 

“As if she could match my benefits package, retirement plan, and salary. Jess is quite comfortable and worth every penny.”

“What about me?” 

“What about you?” 

“Would you like to share your benefits package with me? I’d like to see if you’re worth every penny.” 

Lena tossed her head back and laugh. Kara liked her messy, sleepy hair, and the way a bun couldn’t contain it. She liked that the shirt fell off her shoulder a bit. She liked that Lena was weightless to her, but still dug into her shoulders to make her feel something. 

“I could be persuaded to give you a pitch.”

“I’d really like to take you inside and have a very hot shower, and explore your benefits.” 

“We can do that.” 

Kara smiled again, this time more natural though still not full. Lena returned it anyway. 

XXXXXXXXX

Lena had a plan. 

She thought she had a plan. 

She hadn’t considered Kara Danvers and her extreme thirst for life, and by thirst, of course, she meant nearly the actual thirst that was going to have her vagina broken by the end of the night. She should have remembered that part because Kara was exhausting when she was happy. When there were feelings, deep, dark, twisty feelings, Kara was on a mission to not stop moving until she was absolutely broken, unable to keep her eyes open. 

That was what Kara needed to sleep. Lena thought she was up for the call, but as she felt Kara kiss her back and adjust her leg again, not giving her much time to even come down from the bliss that had been enacted on her just a few minutes prior, Lena knew she was going to die. Kara Danvers. In the bedroom. With her bare hands.

“Come here,” Lena cooed, half out of her mind and exhausted. 

The bedroom was pitch black, but that didn’t matter. She could nearly see the lithe form of her girlfriend moving, prowling, feeling for something. Lena rolled only to pin her to the mattress, the sweat slick between them as it started to cool on their skin. 

“It’s four in the morning,” Kara sighed, panting somewhat. 

“Are you sleepy?” 

A head shook against her shoulder, but Lena closed her eyes, and pulled the damp hair from Kara’s neck before rubbing her back and humming in a sated, content way that meant she was not going to be able to keep her eyes open any longer. 

“Do you want a light on?” Lena murmured as lips kissed her collarbone and a leg slid between her own. 

The sheets would need changed. Again. It’d been an ongoing problem, with Kara working through her grief in the most unexpected and physical of ways. Lena did her best to survive it, but couldn’t keep going how they were. 

“No, I’m okay.” 

“You’ll sleep, right?” 

“I’ll try.” 

Lena clenched her teeth and rubbed the tip of Kara’s ear. She kissed her forehead and kept her close, kept her safe, kept her rooted. 

“What if I told you a story?” 

“I like your voice.” 

“Good. I’ll be quiet. I’ll tell you about my favorite constellations. You have to go to sleep though.” 

“Okay,” Kara nodded, nuzzling in deeper. 

Tired as she was, Lena started with all of her favorite stories, and waited to hear Kara’s breathing level and fall into a soft slumber, and even then she pushed herself to stay awake longer. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

It took months, for Kara to put the cape back on, for her to allow herself back into it. The aftermath of the entire thing had been devastating, but she needed it, she needed the normalcy and the regularity. She needed to go back to being who she was meant to be because at some point, it just got to be too much to exist. 

Kara changed at the DEO though. She was doing it differently, now. She had to. This was all a carefully formulated plan between herself and her DEO-appointed therapist. This was part of letting go and restarting. This was a job. 

She took off the suit and tossed it in a bag. She showered. She tugged on her regular clothes. She walked to the bus stop and got on, her headphones playing something soft and nice. There was no stress. It was an easy day. This was what she needed, to dip her toes back, to put out a fire, to fix a simple fix. She wouldn’t lose it all. She wouldn’t let them win. Lena liked to remind her that she was made of tougher stuff. The toughest stuff, actually. 

On the bus, Kara gave up her seat to an older woman and stood there, happy as she could be. She was going home, to Lena Luthor. There wasn’t anything better, in her opinion. Nothing made the world seem more normal. She was incredibly lucky, to have found that. She certainly wasn’t going to lose it. 

Even before she opened the door, she could smell dinner. She cracked a smile and fiddled with her keys at the door as Lena swore about something in the kitchen. Kara closed her eyes memorized the smell, the taste of the air, the feeling of it against her skin, the sounds of sizzling on the stove and Lena’s music playing softly beneath it all while she sang a little off key and sucked on a burn on her thumb. Kara tilted her head and placed her hands on the door, her palms flat against the metal, and she leaned her head between them, praying, remembering, savoring this moment. That was what she knew how to do now. 

“You’re cooking?” Kara finally murmured as she walked inside. She adjusted her glasses and took in the sight. 

Hair up and slightly falling, sweatshirt sleeves pushed up to her elbows, jeans perfectly sculpting, feet in cozy, comfy socks, Lena Luthor smiled waywardly, a little frazzled as she moved to pull a sheet pan out of the oven. 

“I’m cooking. For you. For your first day back.” 

Lena Luthor was a genius. She had the degrees and lab and membership to all kinds of clubs that had that word in the title. She was fluent in four languages. She owned a boardroom. She was complex and tough to figure out. She was worth it all, but domestic-- domestically inclined Lena Luthor was not. 

“You made me dinner?” 

The most she normally made was a reservation. Lena liked to bake. That was always nice, but dinner was Kara’s specialty, though whatever she was doing was working. 

“I did. Are you hungry? I wanted it to be a surprise, but I realized you might have eaten already.” 

“No, I’m starving. It smells great.” 

“Hopefully it tastes alright.” 

Still moving things around, Lena did her best to finish as Kara moved around the kitchen and kissed her neck, surveying the stovetop and the mess that lived there now. 

“I love you,” Kara murmured into her girlfriend’s neck. 

“I love you, too.” 

“How much longer?” 

“Get,” Lena nudged her, earning a chuckle. “Let me finish. Don’t rush it.” 

“I’m starving to death.” 

“Oh stop.” 

Kara snagged a carrot and took her seat at the island before pouring them both a glass of wine. Never before had she considered marrying Lena Luthor. She hadn’t the time. Just keeping up with her was a full-time job. But in that instant, as she swore under her breath and gratefully took a long swig of wine before looking at Kara quizzically over the rim of the glass, Kara hid behind her own and thought quite simply, I’m going to marry this woman. 

“What? Do I have…” Lena wiped at her face and lips worriedly. 

“Just a smudge,” Kara lied, leaning forward to draw her thumb across Lena’s chin. She sat back down and smiled as the genius went back to making her dinner.

NEXT

[luimagines]

Coul I request the chain reacting to meeting the reader who is Wild's sibling? (If background is needed shrieks science and them whatever purchase did so the reader is just sorta- 15-28 )

Masterlist

I don't understand the second sentence but I think I can infer what you're trying to say. And even then, I came up with a backstory that more less fixes it regardless so yay!

Wild is everyone's favorite chaotic creative sibling!

And I went for older sibling because reasons and just assume that sibling! Reader is in their early twenties.

Content under the cut!

You woke up one day in Hateno village, quietly aware of the silence that echoed through your house.

You miss your brother.

Not that he was here often with his Goddess given assignment nor did he even know who you were for the first half of it.

What a day that was.

Your little brother back from the dead, scars and all and then some... but he had no idea who you were.

It hurt to say the least. But you were told it would happen once the news reached you. He would wake up one day to finish his duty but he would not remember anything regarding his past life.

Even when he found you again, after he somehow remembered you, you didn’t know where to begin.

You just knew that you were so happy to be together again after so long that you hugged him as tight as you could and told him that your door was always open.

To say you both cried is the understatement of the century. It was wet and ugly and messy and neither of you really talk about it but it felt good that day.

And while you both knew he couldn’t stay for long with his adventure being no where near complete. He did come home for the night after he set that travel medallion of his by the front door.

But that was then- before the Calamity was defeated.

Now that it’s gone- so is your brother. Again.

On a different quest this time, it seems.

You don’t understand why your baby brother of all people has to be the one to do it and you would like nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from anything else that comes to hurt him- but he never let you do that as a child- let alone now.

You begin the day like any other and try to get as many mundane chores done as you can before you finally try and get the stable in the back fixed up.

You noticed Link had an affinity to horses and had checked in with the nearest stable to see that he had some lodged under his name.

There’s a place at the house, darn it. Lodge them here. It just needs to be fixed.

With your goal in mind, you lose yourself to the work and the time passes effortlessly.

It’s around noon by the time you hear it.

The familiar sound of activation that gets your heart pounding in relief and unbridled joy.

You drop your hammer and run to the front of the house with the largest grin on your face. “You’re back, you Rug Rat! Come here!”

You single him out instantly amongst the group and tackle him in a hug.

He’s long stopped trying to fight on you on this and has also returned your crushing hug with one of his own. “I’m back.”

“You brought friends too.” You grin and give the group a two fingered salute. “And here I was afraid that this loner child would end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I would be none the wiser. Thank you for looking after my little brother. I’m aware he’s a handful.”

“Ok thanks.” He says.

“Little brother?” Someone from the group asks. They’re lost amongst the sea of head but you nod regardless.

“Yup. I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday.” You grin and put your hands on your hips, introducing yourself right after. “Any friend of Link’s is a friend of the family. Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home. It’s not much but it’s ours. Been in the family since before the calamity struck. Let me wash up a bit and then we can get some food going, yeah?”

“I’ll start up the stove.” Link says and you’re about to disagree. After all, he just got home and should rest while he can but he ahs the most unburdened smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

 “Alright.” You sigh and head to the back where the shower is. It’s always been small and a bit cramped and the door stopped fitting correctly about ten years ago but now that’s it’s not just you anymore, you can go around into the giving the house the TLC it deserves.

But you’re starting with the stable in the back.

When you’re finished and you’ve dried yourself off, you get into the house to find it in a delightful array of colors and chaos.

Each of the boys seemed to have made themselves completely at home in the time you were gone and you leaned against the door frame, watching them all interreact.

Your brother didn’t waste any time with getting the stove up and running. You can smell the beginning of lunch getting cooked and it appears that Link has wrangled two of the boys to be his helpers. One appears to be the youngest with bright wide eyes and a similar blue tunic to that of Links and the other looks to be  slightly more timid in the process. He’s around the same height as Link but darker hair and a long white cape still clasped around his shoulders. 

You recognize the Master Sword strapped to his back.

Making a note of that you look around the room again. Three of them have made themselves comfortable at the table. One is easily the biggest guy of the group, red and blue tattoos on his face and scar over his eye as he watches the others go about the admittedly small house. The other two look to be the same size and you’re sure you can look them in the eye if you needed to. They’re talking to both each other and the group that’s cooking. One has a wolf pelt on his shoulder with more tattoos on his face and other is a knight if you’ve ever seen one with a bright blue scarf around his neck.

You’re not one to judge your brother’s friends but you make a mental note to watch him in case he tries anything.

Two of the boys- one with pink hair and the other have the most solid brown mane of the whole group have made themselves spares and are talking quietly to each other and not making a fuss.

The final one looks to be the smallest but he’s got an older glint to his eye that recognize well. He’s wearing arguably the most color tunic of the group with those four patches sewn together. He’s tucked himself away into a corner with a book out, not interacting with either of them outright but he has been looking up and adding his two cents to the older’s conversation at the table.

They don’t notice you’re back which is a testament to how tired they all must be.

They’re an interesting bunch.

But Link did always surround himself with interesting people.

So you’re not really surprised.

“Sooo...” Pinky starts off, calling your bother’s attention. “You have an older sibling?”

“Yup!” He answers, not looking up from the pot. “They were waiting for me the whole time, and even manage to keep the house. Up keep still needs to be done but we’ve been working on it together.”

“But they’re older.”

“Yes. We’ve established this.”

You have to hold back your snort.

“You were asleep for one hundred years.” Four Patches speaks up, closing his book silently. ”Shouldn’t they... ummm...”

“Be dead?”

“Or at least really old?” Mr. Brunette hops in, trying to lessen the blow of the sentence.

“You’re like one hundred and seven teen right? Wouldn’t that put them at being one hundred and twenty something?” Wolf boy offers.

“I guess so. Yeah. They were old at some point.” Link stops stirring and you can see him try to run the numbers in his head. “I know that much. The village talks about them being really old sometimes, but I guess that was years ago because it’s only from the older folk that live here.”

“But they lived through those one hundred years, didn’t they?” Blue Baby Face speaks this time.

“That’s what they told me.”

“So....” The knight tilts his head and tries to put his hands out as if that would help answer the question. “They’re like the Old Man then? Old in their head but young on the outside.”

“You can say that, yeah.” You say and take extreme satisfaction at the way most of the jump at your voice. “Unlike Link, I was alive the whole time he was asleep. I’ve got grandkids in Lurelin and they visit from time to time but someone had to at least keep the house up and running, might as well have been me.”

“I...” Link starts as he takes the food off the burner. “I never asked you how you stayed young, did I?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He looks away and deflates a little. Link looks a little disappointed with himself and that won’t stand in this house.

“I didn’t realize it was that important. And I’m going to assume you’ve explained most of the situation Rug Rat.” You laugh a little with a raised eyebrow. “You can blame Purah. You know she wanted to find a way to keep the old from aging, right? It’s why she’s in the body of a little kid again. But when she tried the second formula she realized that if she tried it on herself that it might as well but poof her back into a baby and she wanted to contact Robbie but he’s too far and too old to make that trip. I volunteered.”

“Really?”

“It still didn’t really work, I was transformed into a teenager instead of a child- a horrible time to exist really. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. By the time this one-” You step into the house fully and ruffle Link’s hair. “-came back, it left us with the same age gap as before. So in the end I can’t complain.”

“Why’d you volunteer?” Cape guy leans on the wall. “There’s only so many times you can test it, right? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse?”

“Yeah, what if it did transform you into a baby again and you forgot everything?” Four Patches stands up and comes to stand by the table, putting his book on top of it. 

“I wanted to take the risk.” you shrug and pull your brother into a hug. “Is it a crime to want to see my baby brother again not matter the cost?”

“Get off.” He whines.

You laugh but do as he asks. “It was never said when he’d be back. Only that he would. I was willing to buy as much time as needed to be there for him.”

“I didn’t remember you...” He mutters to himself.

“You now, don’t you?” You punch him gently. “We’ve talked about this. It’s ok. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t going to stop me. Ganon himself couldn’t properly get rid of me. I’m not leaving your side anytime soon.”

He smiles and turns to hug you.

“Now where’s your wolf friend?” You ask. “Are you still traveling together? There’s something I wanted to give him.”

Wolf Pelt shimmies in his seat for a second but you don’t think much of it.

Link shakes his head. “Not right now but he has been coming by every now and then.”

“Well it’s good he’s still around to look after you then in my stead.”

“We have a horse though.” Link tilts his head up to grin at you. “It’s not the same but her name is Epona.”

Familiarity stabs you in the heart and you know it’s something that Link even remember even if he lives another one hundred years.

He was too little when she passed.

“...Like dad’s old horse. Can I see her?” You say with a light constriction in your throat. “How crazy would it be if they looked alike?”

“Dad had a horse?”

“You wouldn’t remember her, you were too little. I barely remember her as it is but yes, he did.” You take a step back and motion back towards the door. “Maybe after lunch you show me. We can bring her to the back and measure up how the stable is. I’ve been fixing it up.”

“Really!?” Link blinks, an excited glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you first came in. But let’s eat first.” You put your hand to the small of his back and push him gently in the direction of the table. “And then you can tell me about your friends and this new adventure of yours.”

[urimaginespimp]

Cowboy Like Me

Alfie x Reader

A/N: For some reason, the moment I heard this song from Evermore, my mind just immediately went to Alfie and a possible fic, so here you go!

--------

You were a traveler always yearning for a good life, never staying in one location for too long.

Despite being unexpected, your mother who was a high-class prostitute loved you unconditionally and taught you everything you needed to know – how to act like a proper lady, what men wanted to hear, how to wrap them around your finger, and how to detach yourself from falling inlove with them.

“But you have to promise me you’d lead a different life.” She told you when you were in your teens.

“But mama, what use would be what you’ve taught me?” your doe-eyed innocent face asked her.

“Men are as gullible outside a brothel, dear.” She pats your head lovingly. Smiling at your confused expression, she assured you. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

For years, you two only had each other and you loved it that way. That was until the flu took her and you were left on your own.

Taking what little you have, you set out to make a living for yourself. It still took you a lot of getting used to a new lifestyle, but slowly you found it easier and easier to sweet talk every rich man you gave attention to into doing and giving you what you want without having to give your body. Maybe expensive possessions for you to sell, or the easy cash they wouldn’t think twice on giving you. Every town unvisited was wealth missed for you.

August in Liverpool was chilly. Thankful that you get to wear a coat over your dress, you smiled at the man guarding the infamous Eden Club as he let you in.

It was nothing you haven’t been to before – expensive interior, everybody dressed to the tens, and filled with rich lonely men. Only that you heard this was ran by Italians. Making your way in the middle towards the bar, you smiled sensing that heads turned your way.

By the bar you sat on one of the stools, enjoying a drink. Glancing to your left, you caught the eye of a man five seats away from you. He was clearly staring at you and liked what he was seeing.

He looks rich enough, so you offered a shy smile. He was about to get up from his seat when a, tall, buff man with a cane approached him. He had a beard, and was dressed nicely with black cape toe boots.

Not liking when people take your prey away, you decided to let it slide and look for another thinking that he didn’t know what he’s done. But as soon as your missed conquest was preoccupied with ordering another drink, the man with the beard turned your way with a smirk and winked at you.

He knew what he’s done.

Annoyed, you still gave him a sly smile, all thought of looking for another man went out the window. Three things were clear to him: You were beautiful, you didn’t know you almost encountered Darby Sabini, and that you didn’t know who the hell he himself was. For no sane person who have heard about him wouldn’t even dare look him in the eye nor smile.

When Sabini announced that he was retiring for the night, he bid the man goodbye, told Ollie to head home, and decided to approach you.

“You’re not from around er, luv?” He asked you. Standing in front of you now, it was undeniable that this man is way more handsome than the first one.

“Do first timers in this town get a free drink from you?” You smiled, peering at him through your lashes.

“I can buy you the whole bar, lass. But you’re gonna have to dance with me first.” He chuckled, extending his arm to you.

“Dancing is a dangerous game.” You said, taking his hand anyway, thinking that this would just be like one of your many nights.

Walking to the dancefloor, a slow tune was being played by the band. Taking both of your hands, he rested them on his shoulders, and you both started swaying to the tune.

“Dancing should be the least of your worries, luv. What’s dangerous was the man you were giving that pretty smile of yours earlier.” He explained.

“I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.” You answered, shrugging.

“Mmm. Are you some sort of seducing bandit?” he asked. That was the first thing that went to his mind. A bandit.

“Why, do you think I’m out to seduce you?” you replied slyly.

“Takes one to know one, dear.” You both chuckled.

“You don’t strike me as a bandit, Mr…”

“Solomons. Alfie Solomons.” He finally introduced himself.

“Alfie.” You said. He tried to act like the mere mention of his name from your lips affected him. “I’m just a traveler, making ends meet by telling the rich folks anything they wanna hear.” You said quietly, looking him in the eye.

“A traveler… like one of em cowboys then?” He bluntly asked, making you giggle.

“If you see it that way.” You shrugged, chuckling.

“What do you tell those poor blokes?” His curiosity got the best of him.

“Hmm…” you ran your hands lower to rest on his chest. “Maybe how nights like this could lead them to something nice, and for the lonelier ones, I make them think it could lead to something more. But the thing is, Mr. Solomons, I have yet to meet someone who made me forget my mother’s most important rule.”

“And that is?”

“Not falling in love.” You gave him a sweet smile.

“You’re a cruel vixen, luv.” He said, looking at you intensely. Alfie wasn’t at all intimidated of you. He never wanted love. All the money, business, and fancy cars were enough for him. Forever is the sweetest con, he’d say. But something about you also intrigued him. Maybe because you were all to similar.

“I often just meet with ambitious men and tell em I’m the way forward.” He told you.

“Well, are you?” You asked, as his head got closer to you. Bringing his lips closer to your ear, he whispered.

“Only if they pay for it.” Sending you shivers down your spine.

--------

That night, he personally escorted you back to where you were staying over.

” Will I be seeing you again?” You asked, not trying to sound desperate. There was nothing wrong with making friends, you assured yourself.

“I know who owns this place. I’ll call in some time for you.” He answered, tucking your lose hair behind.

“That is, if I’d still be here by then.” You smiled.

“Well. Who am I to stop a traveler.” He sighed, masking his disappointment. “Got something to help me remember you by, luv?” He asked jokingly.

“it’s your call, Mr. Solomons. What do you want?” You whispered looking up to meet his gaze. For the first time in in your months of travels, something in you was yearning to stay longer.

Maybe it was the way your eyes were full of stars from looking up to him in the night, or that really liked you, but Alfie found himself leaning down to meet your lips. It wasn’t long ‘til you were responding. It was soft, but probably the most intense kiss you ever had, leading you both inside.

Clothes were taken off and thrown all over the room, somehow getting his boots of with ease, he kicked them beneath your bed and lead you both on top of the sheets. As sweet as it was, you both knew it was one for parting your separate ways.

Against your better judgement, you found yourself staying for two more nights in that guest house in hopes of him calling. But it never came.

That was a month ago and that night was still fresh in your memory. It didn’t go the way you expected, but meeting a man such as Alfie Solomons was way better.

You were in a town called Camden. You’ve had several conquests for the last month from other towns - typical older men that you’ve swindled into believing you were smitten by them.

Walking along its streets, you didn’t know this was where the Alfie Solomons resided. That was until you were in a small café and you overheard a group of ladies talking about him passing through the town that morning.

“I thought he never leaves that bakery of his.” One of them said.

“That man needs a wife. Maybe then he’d actually be less brooding.”

Finishing up, you paid your fee. You needed to leave his town immediately. Because as much as he made you feel things you never thought you’d deal with, you’ve decided that he was bad for your ambitions.

Walking briskly through the streets of Camden, you were only a few houses down to your guesthouse when you stopped on your tracks.

By the door of it was no other than Alfie, expectantly waiting for you, his left hand holding the leash of a dog.

“When Ollie told me you went into town last night I almost didn’t believe him.” He started, slowly walking towards you.

Seeing the man again made you forget whatever it was you warned yourself about him.

“I never thought I’d meet you here.” You answered in all honesty.

“Don’t worry. I’m not one to accuse ladies of stalking.” You both chuckled.

“I guess I won’t be having any luck in Camden too, huh?”

Whoever and whatever goes in and out of Camden was his business. So, when Ollie told him that the lady from Liverpool was seen entering a guesthouse last night, he took the chance of looking for you that morning after a sleepless night clouded by you.

“Perhaps you will.” He answered.

“Oh?”

“Luv, I’m going out a limb here when I say you can’t deny there’s something ‘er.” He told you seriously.

“But you never called.” That was all you could say. You couldn’t even deny what he said.

“All coz I called too late. Ya never heard of all that no calling til three days? Ollie advised me so I won’t look too desperate. Almost fired the lad.” He chuckled.

“Well, what does Camden have to offer the bandit?” You smiled teasingly.

“Everything you want so long as you stay with me, luv. We could be the way forward.” He convinced you, taking a step closer.

“And?” tilting your head to the side, trying not to laugh at him using that line with you.

“And I know I’ll pay for it.” He rolled his eyes before taking you head with his free hand and crashed his lips to yours.

He was the lone exception to your mother’s rule, and the one to help you lead a different life. You knew you were never gonna love again.

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Gift

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Tony says no pets in the Tower, but since when has Loki ever listened to him? Warnings: like one curse word A/N: Any Tom Hiddleston stans out there should get the Easter egg in this one :)

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

“Oh, come on, Tony! Please,” you whined for the fifth time that week. “Not even just a little one?”

“Absolutely not. It’d make a mess of the place. Not to mention that this isn’t exactly the safest place for a pet.”

“So it gets into a lab accident and we have a super dog. Not the worst thing ever,” you said, half joking, though Tony actually seemed kind of intrigued now. You changed your tactic before he got any ideas. “Besides, it won’t make a mess. I’ll train it. And not all dogs shed.”

“I guess, but someone might be allergic,” Tony countered, thinking he delivered a winning argument.

“We can get a hypoallergenic dog,” you shot back, though you’d already checked with almost everyone and no one said they were.

Tony grumbled, running out of excuses to give as to why you couldn’t get the pet you’ve been pleading for the past few months. Tony had become somewhat of a father figure to you during your time in the Tower, and you’d been pretty sure you could use that to your advantage. Sadly, though, nothing had been working. In fact, that relationship had been more of a detriment to you than anything else as you didn’t want to make him upset with you. Otherwise, you might just go out and buy the pet of your choosing. Maybe even more than one. Although, to be fair, it was Tony’s building, and he was allowing you to live here rent free, so you should probably just drop it. But you really wanted a pet, and you knew you weren’t the only one.

“Sorry, but still no.”

“Fine,” you relented with an overdramatic sigh. “For now, anyway.”

“Thank you,” he said, going back to whatever he was tinkering with before you came in.

You pouted in the lab for a bit, hoping he might change his mind, but to no avail. Eventually you slinked out and went into one of the common rooms, plopping on the couch between Peter and Bucky.

“So, how’d it go?” Peter asked after popping a handful of Skittles into his mouth.

“No luck," you responded sourly, stealing some of the colorful candy from him. “None of my strategies are working.”

“What if we tried for something smaller?” Bucky offered. “Like a gerbil.”

“I guess,” you grumbled as you flopped back in exasperation. “But we’ve had our eye on that Cocker Spaniel for a while. A gerbil just wouldn’t be the same.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You all sat in silence for a bit and watched as Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck argued about what hunting season it is, mulling over the situation. Admitting defeat seemed to be the most likely option at the moment, but you hated to just give up when you were sure there was a way to get what you wanted and not have Tony be upset with you.

“I’ve got it!” Peter suddenly shouted, bubbling with excitement. “We go and adopt it and then tell Mr. Stark that it just followed us home!”

“Except he wouldn’t let us keep it even then,” you stated, having already thought of that yourself.

“So we hide it. Simple,” Bucky chimed in. “By the time he notices, Peter will be so emotionally bonded to it, Tony wouldn’t dare take it away.”

“Great idea, Mr. Bucky,” Peter said, high-fiving him.

“Yeah, if only there weren’t cameras everywhere. Not to mention a home system that tells him everything,” you added, growing more upset at the lack of options by the minute.

You pushed up from the couch as the episode’s end was heralded by Porky Pig’s “Th-th-that’s all folks.” After waving bye to your friends, you headed to your room to brainstorm in silence. The figure lurking in the shadows didn’t even register in your mind, so you had no idea that a certain god heard your whole conversation. Not only that, he was about to fix all your problems.

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

“Mr. Loki, where are we going?” Peter inquired as he and Bucky were led into the city by the trickster god.

“All will be revealed, spiderling. I assure you.”

Bucky just shrugged when Peter looked at him, and so they continued following Loki through the busy New York streets. After hearing about your plight, he had hatched a plan to get you what you wanted. All it took was a bit of research on that infernal computer device, and he was pretty sure he’d found the right shelter. It was a far walk from the Tower, and since neither he nor his travel companions could drive, he resorted to taking the subway, an experience he’d rather not have again. Finally, they arrived at the destination, and Peter was about to burst with excitement.

“Mr. Loki!” he gasped. “This is exactly where we were looking for dogs!”

“But I have a feeling you knew that already,” Bucky said.

“Indeed,” Loki replied. “I must confess that I overheard your conversation in the common room yesterday.”

“Oh I get it now. You’re doing this for-”

“No time for speculation, we are here to get me a pet,” Loki interrupted, “Go on. After you, spiderling.”

Peter, still blissfully unaware of Loki’s true intentions, led the way into the shelter. They were greeted with the sound of happy barking and the distinct smell of dog treats. Loki had to admit, he wasn’t the biggest fan of animals. He found some to be more agreeable than others, such as a good steed, but overall he thought them to be more of a nuisance than anything else. Thor had bought a cat for Jane once, and it tore up half of his capes before he presented it to her. Loki was glad his brother kept it away from him and his belongings. Not to mention he didn’t appreciate the sheer number of similarities people said he had with felines. Dogs, however, he was fine with, so long as they were trained properly.

“Hello, how may I help...” the girl behind the front desk trailed off, her eyes going wide with excitement upon realizing who the trio was. “Y-you’re... Oh my gosh. My friends are never going to believe this! But, uh, how may I help you?”

None of the heroes were particularly comfortable with the attention and star struck gaze of the girl, so it took them a minute to get over their sheepishness. Loki looked at both his companions before realizing he would have to do the talking. He sighed but knew the look on your face would be worth it. You’d look at him the same way you had so many times before, whenever he did little things for you, whether it be rubbing your shoulders after a stressful day or brewing you a cup of tea on a chilly morning. The two of you weren’t dating, exactly, but you weren’t exactly not dating, either. Loki found himself incapable of asking you to make it official, lest it ruin what you currently had. He didn’t know what he’d do if you no longer casually held his hand or rested your head on his lap while reading in the evenings. Even though he was fairly certain you felt the same way, that last bit of doubt wouldn’t leave him alone. Besides, despite usually being quite a great thinker, he couldn’t come up with a good way to confess. He supposed that kissing you would do the trick, but he wasn’t brave enough for that, so getting you a dog would have to suffice for now.

“My friends here were looking at some of your dogs recently, and there is one that they are quite smitten with. We are here to adopt it.”

“That’s right! A Cocker Spaniel named Bobby,” Peter offered. “He hasn’t already been adopted, has he?”

“Nope!” the girl responded in a perky voice. “He’s all yours as soon as you fill out the proper paperwork.”

“Mr. Loki, are you sure about this. Mr. Stark told me I couldn’t get a dog.”

“Exactly. He told you, not me,” Loki replied, picking up a pen.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t really think he meant it just for me. I think it was more of a general kind of thing.” Loki and Bucky looked at him in exasperation for a second, wondering how he could still be so innocent, before he caught on. “Oh, ok. I get it now. Carry on.”

The three boys huddled around the page as Loki filled it out, providing Tony’s credit card as payment when the time came. It seemed appropriate, Loki thought, that Stark should have to pay for making you upset, and taking that in the most literal sense was the only somewhat acceptable way, it seemed. No longer could The God of Mischief go around stabbing those who hurt the ones he cared about. In a way, he missed the good old days, as he referred to them, but his new life led him to you, which made the rest of it fine with him, he decided, as he finished his signature with a flourish.

“There,” he declared, admiring the loop of his fancy, cursive L. “Finished.”

The girl disappeared into the back, only to return with Bobby a moment later. After giving the paperwork a quick once over, she handed the leash over to Bucky, who couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his face. Peter immediately bent down to scratch the dark brown dog behind his ears.

“Who’s a good boy? You are! You’re a good boy!” he cooed.

“Spiderling, he hasn’t even done anything yet,” Loki said, somewhat perplexed, as Bobby rolled over onto his back, stopping at the god’s feet. “Though, I do suppose he is a rather good boy,” he added, an inexplicable smile tugging at his lips.

One stop at the pet store and a taxi ride later, both unknowingly paid for by Tony, they arrived back at the Tower with the newest member of their family. It wasn’t even ten minutes later that Tony strolled into the room where they were playing with Bobby. He stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the dog, happily playing tug of war with Bucky.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing at the Cocker Spaniel.

“A dog,” Loki deadpanned.

“Yeah, no shit. I mean what is it doing here?”

“I adopted it. Really Stark, for a supposed genius you ask a lot of obvious questions.”

“Don’t get snippy with me, Rock of Ages,” Tony quipped back, gritting his teeth a little. “This is my Tower and I say no pets, except for maybe a goldfish.”

“Yes, this is your Tower, but it is our home, is it not? As thus, we should be allowed the simple pleasures of life, such as having a pet. After all, studies show that having a dog can reduce stress, something I’d say is rather important for people in our position.”

Tony glared for a minute, not really having a good response to that. Then he called your name, certain you were behind this.

“No, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. “They had nothing to do with this. Don’t blame them.”

“That’s right,” Bucky also defended you. “It was all us.”

It was already too late, though, and you appeared in the doorway. Loki had been planning on presenting your gift to you in some cute or clever way, but all he had time to do was a magic up a bow on the pup’s head, a green one, of course. Bobby started happily yapping at your arrival and trotted over to you, looking for a scratch behind the ear.

“Oh. My. Gosh. He’s adorable!” you exclaimed as he rolled over for belly rubs. “You finally got a dog for me, Tony? Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Sorry, but I can’t take credit for this,” he said, turning down the hug you were offering him by putting a hand up. Then he pointed at the mischievous trio whose doing it was.

“Well actually, it was mainly Loki,” Bucky said, nudging the god in the ribs.

“But Mr. Bucky, we all- Oh wait. Awwww,” Peter gushed as he realized what Loki was feeling.

“Oh. In that case, thank you Loki!” you shouted, throwing your arms around him in a hug.

Without a second’s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, too, returning the embrace. “You are quite welcome, my darling.”

You nuzzled into the spot where his shoulder met his neck. In turn, he put his head on your own and breathed in your scent, forgetting the others in the room for a minute. It seemed you had, too, because you looked equally startled when Tony cleared his throat.

“Ok, fine. He can stay,” Tony conceded, “but only if he doesn’t wreck the place. And keep him out of the lab.”

You all chorused your thanks and, despite his harsh tone, could tell that Tony had already taken to Bobby, who was now the center of attention again. After playing with him for a bit, Bucky made some excuse about having to leave and took Peter with him, both of them wanting to give you some alone time with Loki.

“This really is very sweet, Loki,” you told him after a few minutes.

“Think nothing of it. It is my gift to you.”

“I feel bad, though. I don’t have anything for you,” you said, biting your lip. “Well, actually, I do have one thing that I can give you.”

“Oh? What would that be, my darling?”

The end of his sentence was nearly cut off by your lips crashing into his. The kiss was a little sloppy, but filled with so much love and desire that neither one of you cared. After gathering his wits, Loki kissed you back, cupping your cheeks as you grabbed his shoulders, still a little unsteady from surging forward.

“That,” you breathlessly whispered, pulling away as Bobby began barking again.

Later that night, Tony found you and Loki passed out on the couch, Bobby sprawled out across both your laps.

“Huh,” he mumbled, draping a blanket over your shoulders. “I guess it’s a good thing they got that dog, after all.”

[princess-of-riviaa]

Secrets

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Summary: Superman saves you on the darkest night of your life. A year later, your best friend and colleague Clark Kent makes a confession.

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of depression, attempted suicide

Warning(s): angst(ish), oral (m receiving)

Word Count: 3,170

Your mind is silent, empty. All you can think about is the ground below you, growing ever closer with each passing second. Your instinct is to scream, but the way your stomach is in your throat and the wind burns your lungs, you have no air to scream out. This is it. This is how it ends. Your arms flail around you desperately, your body determined to stop the fall, but you keep moving towards the ground anyways. The ground is twenty feet away. Ten feet. Five-- 

Something wraps around you. You can’t see what it is, nor can your brain move fast enough to process what’s happening, but suddenly you’re moving up, up, up--back to the roof you jumped off of.

You struggle to breathe as you’re set down on the roof, your heart beating so fast that your head is spinning. You were seconds away from dying. You should be dead right now.

Why aren’t you dead right now?

You look in front of you. A red cape waves in the wind. You recognize the man in the blue suit the way anyone would. Superman.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his eyes scanning your body with protective worry. “Did you slip? What are you doing on the roof?”

You put your hands on your knees, struggling to calm your breathing. Every muscle inside of you is tensed. Your brain still can’t process the fact that you’re not dead right now. You should be.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you scream at him. Tears pour down your face faster than you can stop them.

“You were about to die,” the hero in blue tights tells you, like you’re an idiot who has yet to realize that.

“That’s the point!” you cry out. “I didn’t slip!” Nothing about this was accidental.

His face falls when he realizes your meaning. The look he gives you… it’s too vulnerable a look for a stranger to give.

“Don’t look at me like that. Someone else probably needs saving. Go somewhere you’re wanted.” You don’t mean to be a bitch, but you’d worked so hard to get to this point. To come to terms with your death, to plan it all out, even to act it out. And at the very last second it all went crashing down.

“I’m not leaving until I know you won’t try to do this again,” he says.

You want to scream in his face. He’s ruined everything!

He steps towards you, but you take two steps back. He holds his hands up, showing you he’s not going to try anything, and says, “Let me take you to the ground, and then I’ll leave.”

You’d much rather punch him than let him carry you to safety. But the look on his face is stubborn and you know he’s not about to leave you alone until you agree. So you huff and nod your head.

He closes the distance between you. Something about him feels familiar, almost… safe. His arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against him so he won’t lose his grip, and only then do you realize how strong he is. You feel his biceps dance against your back as he adjusts you in his arms. It almost takes your breath away. If you were someone else--if you had enough hope to think about these things--you’d be attracted to him. There’s something about how his black waves of hair resembles the night sky, while his bright blue eyes look like the sky at high noon, that pulls you in.

Superman picks you up easily, lifting you like you weigh no more than a feather. His grip is tight around you as he slowly lowers the both of you to the ground. It’s breathtaking--his flight, his strength. As soon as your feet touch the ground of the parking lot, he lets go of you and moves a respectful distance away.

“What’s your name?” you find yourself wondering.

He smiles at you. “Superman.”

You shake your head. “No, I mean your real name. Who are you?”

All he says is, “I’m just a man that believes, wholeheartedly, that the world is better off with you in it.”

“You don’t even know me--” you begin, but he’s already gone, a shooting star in the night sky.

…

ONE YEAR LATER

The sound of your glasses clinking is drowned out by the noisy chatter of the restaurant around you. You take a long sip of your wine, feeling Clark’s gaze on you as you do.

“Rough day?” he jokes.

You shake your head and set your glass down, returning to your food. “Just the opposite. This article is going to put us on the map. Your writing is going to make us famous, Clark Kent.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Clark insists humbly. “We’re a team.”

Your cheeks begin to burn with how much you’ve been smiling. It’s mind blowing to think how much your life has changed in just eleven months. A year ago you were lost, fighting against your depression and losing, and now you’re a successful woman living in the city. You run a yoga class on weeknights and buy a new book for your collection every paycheck. You’ve really learned how to take care of yourself.

“Can I say something, as a friend? I don’t want it to come across as weird,” Clark says, playing with his fork nervously.

Your stomach knots. “Uh, yeah. Go ahead.”

“It makes me really happy to see you like this,” he confesses. “You’re always smiling lately, you really brighten up the office.”

You feel your cheeks burn. You’d been expecting him to say something bad. But of course he didn’t; this is Clark. He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met. You’re very happy you’re friends with him.

“I am happy,” you admit. “Things have really turned around for me this year.” You hesitate, wanting to tell him the one thing you’ve never told anyone, but you’re afraid. He won’t look at you the same after you tell him. No one ever does when you mention depression.

“What is it?” Clark, ever the mind-reader, notices that you’re holding back from him. “You look like you want to say something.” He reaches across the small table and holds your hand. A spark of heat shoots up your arm, making your heart race.

You’ve had feelings for Clark for a while, but you’ve forced yourself to keep things professional. You work together on a lot of investigative pieces. You can’t afford to have a fling, end it poorly, and then lose a coworker. But that doesn’t mean that every time you two take the elevator in the morning, you don’t feel a heat between him and you; or that every time his hand accidentally brushes yours, the touch doesn’t register in your core, making you ache for more.

“It’s me,” Clark says, giving you that smile that always makes you give in to him. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

You hesitate. “It’s just… nothing. Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

But he shakes his head insistently. “If it’s bothering you this much, it’s clearly not nothing.”

So you tell him. About your failed suicide attempt. About your run in with Superman. About how you held a grudge against the beloved hero for several months because for such a long time, you regretted not dying. You regretted staying alive. And then, when you finally got the help you needed through regular therapy sessions, you felt like you could breathe again. Like this entire time you’d been drowning under ten-foot waves and you can finally come up for air again. And now you feel like you owe Superman everything, if only you knew who he was.

Clark doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time you talk. His touch manages to soothe you enough to make you tell him everything. He waits until you’ve gotten everything out before saying anything.

“You really want to know who Superman is?” he wonders.

You nod. “I want to pay him back. Or thank him at the very least.”

He hesitates. “Can I show you something?”

You nod. “Of course.”

“It’s at my apartment,” he warns. “Are you comfortable with me taking you there?”

You’ve known Clark long enough to know he’s not trying to trick you into anything. And even if he was, you wouldn’t object, not that you’d ever tell him that. But you nod.

Clark pays for the meal and you walk to his car. As you turn to grab your seat belt, though, your skirt rises up. You tense. A sliver of your black underwear is revealed and you look up to see Clark’s eyes locked on your legs. He’s silent as he swallows and suddenly the air between you is heated, stiff. You quickly pull your skirt back down and do your best to laugh it off, though it just comes out breathy and tense. Clark doesn’t mention it though, much to your relief.

His apartment is a quick seven minute drive from the Italian restaurant you’d just finished eating at. You’re both quiet throughout the drive, the walk to the elevator, and the ride up to his floor. But it’s an easy silence, one only people who are very close can experience.

Clark hesitates outside his apartment door. “What I’m about to show you… it’s an important secret. I trust you enough to show you, and I think you need to know this, but I ask that you don’t tell anyone.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you showing me your prized Pokemon collection?”

But he doesn’t laugh like you’d expected him to. He’s very serious about this, you realize.

You nod. “Of course, Clark. You don’t have to worry about me saying anything. But now you’ve got me dying of curiosity, so please open the door.”

He does. You’ve been to his place before--when your deadlines have crept up on you and you magically had to pull one-thousand words out of your ass by midnight, Clark’s place became the place to be--and you know your way around to know that he’s leading you to his bedroom. You grow a little uneasy, if only because this is very much starting to feel like a trap. But Clark walks right past his queen-sized bed and towards his closet.

“I just… try not to freak out,” Clark says as he pulls something out.

You frown as he turns to face you with a folded shirt in his hands. It’s a deep blue and made of what looks like latex. You’d have no idea what is or what importance it holds--if it weren’t for the red-and-gold S engraved in the middle. But you still struggle to comprehend what he’s showing you.

“So you’re… a secret Superman fanatic?” you guess.

Clark laughs. “Not exactly.”

You refuse to believe what he’s trying to tell you. “Clark, I need you to spell it out for me.”

You watch him take off his glasses and hold the outfit up to his body. It’s… off-putting is the first word that comes to mind. He looks exactly like Superman. But that’s impossible. If Clark were Superman, you would’ve figured it out by now. You’re not an idiot, nor are you blind. But he looks like a different person without those glasses. And with that costume held up to his body…

“Clark…” you manage to get out, still refusing to believe what’s right in front of your eyes.

“You know what I’m trying to tell you,” he insists.

Part of you doesn’t want to believe it. Clark is your partner-in-crime, your friend… Superman is some stranger that ran into you on the worst night of your life. You don’t want to combine the two. You want to keep Clark--who practically embodies everything good about your present life--as far away from the reminder of the broken thing you used to be.

But you have to ask… “Who are you?”

Clark just smiles and says, “I’m just a man that believes, wholeheartedly, that the world is better off with you in it.” The same words Superman had spoken to you eleven months ago.

Your legs cave in on you. Luckily you land on the edge of Clark’s bed. You’re silent as your brain finally begins to accept all of this. Clark watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. He finally moves to sit beside you. Though his thigh brushes against yours, sending heat to your core, his presence is friendly.

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” he says.

“You’ve known,” you finally get out. “You’ve known this whole time--you’ve known since before I started working at the Daily Planet. Everything I told you tonight… you knew this whole time! And you lied about it!”

You rise to your feet and move to the corner of the room, suddenly needing to put as much distance between you as possible. You’re mad at him--no, you’re livid. He’s been lying to you since the day you met him. You try to push back angry, hot tears from rising to the surface but they come anyways.

“Y/N…” Clark says, his voice breaking in a heartbreaking sound. He moves towards you.

You back up until your back hits the wall. “You’re a liar!”

“I never denied finding you that night,” he says, still continuing to move towards you. He moves slow, though, treating you like a scared animal. “I didn’t lie about it.”

“You deceived me!” you argue through your tears.

Pain flashes through his eyes as you yell at him, and though your instinct is to hug him and tell him whatever he needs to hear to feel better, you ignore it. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t have you knowing--”

“I was pissed at you!” You’re unable to stop your voice from rising with every word, growing desperately louder. “I was mad at you for saving me for so long! I hated you! Don’t you get that?” You move towards him and shove his shoulders. He stumbles back, surprised that your anger has turned violent. “How could you do this to me?!” You shove him again but this time he expects it. His feet are planted firmly on the ground and you don’t even make him move an inch. When you go to hit him for the third time, he grabs your wrists and holds them against his chest. You can feel the warmth radiating through his shirt, feel the solidness of his chest.

“Do you hate me?” he asks, looking deeply in your eyes.

“Y-yes,” you sob out.

But he knows that you’re lying. “Do you hate me, Y/N?” He enunciates each word slowly this time.

You step towards him again, but instead of hitting him you just rest your head on his chest. The only person you want to talk to when you feel this upset is Clark; he’s always the one to talk you off the ledge, to get you thinking logically instead of emotionally. So you don’t know what to do when he’s the one making you feel like this.

He brings one hand to the back of your head, cradling you against his chest, while his other begins to rub your back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I never wanted to hurt you. But no one can know who I am.”

“Then why me?” you sob into his chest.

“Because…” he begins, then pauses.

You lift your head up just enough to meet his gaze. Only then do you become aware that there’s no distance between you. Your bodies are pressed tight against each other, your mouths inches apart. His breath tickles your face, sending shivers down your spine.

“Because what?” you force yourself to ask, struggling to find your voice.

He answers by kissing you. You freeze. Never in a million years would you have seen this coming. There’s no way Clark is as attracted to you as you are him. And yet here you stand, being kissed like you’re oxygen and he’s craving a fresh breath of air. As soon as the shock fades, you kiss him back. Your hands tug on his flannel, pulling him even tighter against him. When he pulls away from you, you’re both breathless.

“Because I love you,” he admits.

Love. That’s what he feels for you. It’s not just lust, not just a crush. Your heart races when he says those words. You must be dreaming. There’s no way this is happening.

“I’m sorry if that ruins things between us,” he says, “but I needed you to know. I’m good at keeping secrets, but I didn’t want to keep that one.”

You kiss him again. His hands tug at your hips, pressing your body tight against his. You gasp when you feel his erection press into you. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you bring a hand to his growing erection and palm him over his jeans. He groans into your mouth and the sound registers deep inside of you, making you drip with arousal.

You pull away from him and fall to your knees. His lustful gaze is locked on yours as you undo his jeans and pull them down enough to reveal his aching member. You practically gasp at his girth and length. There’s no way you can fit all of him in your mouth. But you try anyways, first with teasing licks up the length of his shaft and a few sucks on his balls. He groans as you open your mouth and take him deep inside of you. His cock brushes against the back of your throat and you gag but resist the urge to pull away from him. With the way he’s looking at you right now and the sounds he’s making, you’d happily gag on his cock. You place your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as he places a hand on the back of your head and begins to fuck your mouth.

Clark has never been anything but sweet and gentle. But right now, with how he’s fisting your hair and shoving his cock deeper inside of you, you feel like his own personal whore. And you love every second of it.

“Fuck,” he groans out. The sounds he makes has your toes curling and your heart racing when you remember that you’re the one making him fall apart. You feel powerful, beautiful, even as he uses you like this. “I’m gonna come soon… you gotta stop or I’m… gonna come down your throat.”

You moan at the thought. The vibrations of your voice register deep within him and two thrusts later he releases his seed down your throat. You swallow all of it, loving the salty, bitter taste.

“I think that’s the best blowjob I’ve ever had,” he admits, his cheeks a light pink from his orgasm.

You smirk up at him and get off the floor.

Clark nods to the bed. “Mind if I return the favor?”

***

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[four-rabbit]

First day

Hey! I can’t believe I was actually able to write this, but I’m so glad I did! This is (probably just) a oneshot based on this Parent AU created by @remuscore, because we all know I just had to write about Remus being a parent.

Sorry for any mistakes, hope you enjoy it!

Summary: It’s Roman’s first day of preschool or dealing with enough kids to fill a classroom for that matter and he has never been more excited. His father, Remus, on the other hand, can’t stop himself from worrying that, just as he did as a child, Roman will have difficulty adapting to the new environment. 

Characters: Remus Sanders; Roman Sanders; Patton Sanders

Warning: Swearing, one mention to eating a bug, food and first day of school as a main theme.

Word count: 2259

It was midnight. Remus finally threw himself on the bed and closed his eyes. After one minute, the daylight broke through the windows, hurting just as much as the screamings of a child. 

“Dad! Dad, wake up! Wake uuup!”

“Wh… Roman, it’s…” He squinted at the cellphone, his vision still getting used to all that light and brightness “...It’s time to wake up” He sighed heavily, letting the phone fall from his hands. The last day finished, like, seven hours ago, why did he already have to deal with another day?! 

“Yeah, that’s what I sayied”

“Said” he corrected, closing his eyes again hoping that, somehow, a few more seconds would be enough for him to be ready to be a functional human being. It didn’t work, but he had to at least pretend to not be dead inside anyway “What do you wanna eat?”

“Breakfast soup!” Roman opened his arms and a smile from ear to ear. Very adorable, his father thought. Would be way more adorable if you didn’t scream at seven in the fucking morning. 

“I think the cereal is over, buddy” he sat with effort, his entire body feeling like it had been hit by a train “We ate it all… yesterday. I guess. But we have… hmm… Something. Probably” 

“Dad looks scary”

“I know”

“Really really scary. Like a zombie. Or, or, a witch! Or Dragon. Dragon witch!” Remus smiled tirely. His son’s excitement was almost contagious. Almost. 

“Thanks for the regards” he mumbled, getting on his feet and grabbing Roman, who was busy jumping up and down on the bed and making it even messier than it was before.

There were the remains of an egg bowl and an out of date ketchup in the fridge. And that's it. Remus did his best to keep the curses that came to his mind, well, in his mind. 

“There must be something in the pantry” There was. One packet of cookies. “Eggs, cookies or both?"

“Cookies!” Roman exclaimed. 

“Cool, but I’m gonna make the eggs  cause you’ll need energy for your first day of school. 

“Cookies give energy!” Roman pouted, crossing his arms. Remus ignored him, grabbing the eggs and then turning to the kid, frowning.

“Hey, when was the last time I gave you a shower?” If Roman was a little older he would have replied "you’re asking me that?!” but when you are three, you don’t really understand why it matters how frequent your showers are. 

“‘Lastday’?” he asked more than anything, after stopping to think a little. Remus sighed again”.

“Yesterday, ok, go…” would it be too irresponsible to ask his son to shower by himself? “You know what, the eggs can wait, let’s take a shower and then find your clothing and your backpack and…” Jesus fucking Christ we’ll never be there on time.

“Kay!” There wasn’t anything that would bother Roman. Not now that the possibility to go to school and make friends and be cool was so close. 

The shower was fast and messy. Roman got really close to falling, like, three times and their neighbors probably weren’t happy with all the drama he made when Remus tried to dry his hair. 

“You act like I’m trying to rip off your head, not just dry your damn hair!” 

“I want Patton! Patton not mean! Dad mean!”

“Patton is also not here and it’s over. See? You’re alive” Roman showed Remus his tongue, grabbing his towel in a dramatic outing and going to his room.

Remus always believed in self expression. Even when you are a child. That's why he let his son choose an old glitter t-shirt, beach shorts, a red cape and spongebob shoes to go to school. Which can be either a questionable or great parenting method. I’ll let you decide. 

“You look neat!” His father complimented when Roman sat down at the kitchen table, waiting for his breakfast. 

“Dad is lying!

“I never lie”

“All grown-ups lie” Remus looked down at the eggs in front of him. Yeah, I guess he’s right, thought to himself, I can’t afford to be honest all the time if I want to be good at adulting. Or, as he liked to say, adultery. 

“Ok, but I’m not lying now. You do look good” he gave his son a thumbs up, sitting down and putting the eggs in front of them.

“I want cookies!” Roman complained, refusing to eat. 

“You can take the cookies to school, how ‘bout that?” 

“The whole packet?” the child asked, half-closing his eyes with suspicion. Remus smiled lightly.

“The whole packet”

“Cool!” the oldest checked the time. The family had five minutes before their ride got there. 

“So. I guess I should give you, like, a school talk” 

“Not really.” Roman said after swallowing. 

“Hum. Okay. First, don’t worry about not making friends, I know all of this is new, but I’m sure that you’ll be fine”.

“I’m not worried” Oh excuse me Mister.I’m-a-Fucking-Extrovert. 

“Oh. Good. Yeah. But also, like… don’t be so sure. Like… if not everything goes as planned or if you don’t make that many friends, y’know-”

“I’m gonna make friends, I’m not weird like dad” Roman interrupted. Remus tried to not seem as offended as he was. Turns out being called “weird” is harder when it’s your own son. 

“Cool, cool. But I also feel that we should establish some rules, I guess?

“Estab what? 

“Create some rules and follow them”

“I’m great at following rules!” he exclaimed. It could have come as sarcasm if he wasn’t too young for that. 

“Ok. First: no nicknames. Call people their actual name for the love of god”

“But what if their names are boring?”

“Especially if their names are boring.” Roman seemed almost offended, but nodded reluctantly.

“Two: y’know the bad words I say sometimes? Don’t say any of those. Ever” he could only imagine the headache it would be trying to deal with a teacher after his son told a kid to go fuck themself. 

“Ever?!”

“Ok, not ever, but not until you are ten, let’s say”

“How long is it?

“Not that long. And finally. Don’t get into any fight. Please. 

“I won’t! Unless someone is mean to me, right?

“No. Not even if someone is mean to you. At least not for now” Roman tilted his head.

“But you always say that” He changed his posture and tried to imitate Remus’ voice. “When people are bad, you gotta be bad back”

“I said this, like, once and… It was different. If something goes wrong at school, we may have to pull up with some sh- things I don’t know if I can deal with”

“Like what?” Remus was spared from having to answer that and make his worst fear even more real as a horn echoed from the street. Roman immediately got up, running to the door and screaming: “Patton! Patton is here!” Remus opened a relieved smile for a lot of reasons, letting the closest he had to a father get in.

“Hey Kiddo, it’s so good to see you!” Patton said to both of them, hugging Roman and them the twenty years old man.

“Sup” Remus simply mumbled, too prideful to let the guest see how grateful he was for the possibility of a break. “You guys have fun here, I have to find this little brat’s backpack…"

“Hey! Dad ‘have be’ mean to me the whooole morning! Tell him to be nice!" Roman commanded. 

“Your dad is just a little tired, sweet, I’m sure he means no harm. Oh, I really like your cape! Where did you buy it?

“I made it myself! And dad helped a little, I guess”

“And by a little he means I did most of the work and he put those stars at the bottom” Remus replied, coming back with his son’s backpack.

“Oh, you two did very well! So, is everything alright?” He took a look around, putting his hands on his waist.

“Yeah, I hope” Remus answered, not really sure of it himself.

“Well, I’ll have to trust your word, kiddo, cause we’re kinda late. So, let’s get going! 

Patton probably had some deal with the devil. That’s the only way he would be able to handle a whole trip with Roman - And Remus too, who knew himself to also not be easy to deal - and still keep it cool. 

“Here we are” said as the small building got in their gaze, full of kids and screaming and social interactions and oh god, Remus was so glad he never even considered to be a teacher. Roman didn’t even think twice, already opening his door and starting to run toward the school.

“Fuck! Hey wow, stop right there!” Remus immediately followed, the panic growing in his chest and dispeling the tiredness for a moment. He grabbed his son by the arm, trying to at the same time be careful and resolute “You can’t just go running like that! Some car could have… Oh god”

“I’m fine!”

“I know. I just. Do you want me to be there?” Why is school always so fucking scary? Even when you are an adult, apparently, from how all those gazes felt on his skin “Or maybe if you want, Patton can go with you…”

“Dad can go with me there!” He then grabbed Remus' hand and proceeded to push his father with all his determination, guiding them both through the school even if he had no idea where his class was. But they figured it out after a couple minutes. 

“I guess it’s here, isn’t it?” Remus asked more to himself than anything. His son nodded. 

“Don’t be sad, dad. I promise I will make a ton of friends and be cool and popular” He opened his arms to give emphasis to his words. The oldest smiled. 

“I’m sure you will, buddy. But also, if you need anything, I’ll be there, so… 

“You’ll? But isn’t it just for the kids?

“Yeah, but you still need some adaptation period and I have to stay while this.

“I don’t need ada- adap- this thing! I’m so totally fine!”

“We don’t really have a word in that, buddy. Now, where is your teacher…?” He looked around, but it didn’t take the man a lot of effort, since a smiley woman wearing the school uniform was already coming in their direction.

“Oh, you must be Roman Prince, right? Nice to meet you!” she leaned down to the child’s height, still keeping that smile on her face. 

“Nice to meet you too” He exclaimed back. Remus was relieved he remembered the cumpriment. 

“Why don’t you go meet your new friends? We have hot dogs!

“I love hot dog!” He runned toward the food without second thoughts, leaving Remus and the nice normal lady alone. He tried to smile too, but it probably didn’t look as genuine considering all his nervousness. 

“And I guess you must be... “ She analysed the young adult from his multiply pierced ears to his ripped pants and worn boots. “Roman’s brother?” That would be easier, wouldn't it?

“No, I’m…” He held out his hand to greet her. “His dad. Remus Prince, nice to meet you”

“Oh” She didn’t accept his hand. 

“Yeah”

“Can I talk to his mom?”

“Of course! When I find her I’ll let you know” She flinched. Fuck, wrong time, wrong joke. “Yeah, if Roman needs something I’ll be there” he vaguely pointed to a bench, speed walking in it’s direction. 

You know someone is awkward when they still have problems dealing with school even after they already finished it. He sat there, trying not to see so… what? Irresponsible, scary, wrong, useless. The last one would definitely have been easier if Roman wasn’t such a natural. He made friends before his father could say ‘“fucking extrovert”, participated in all the games, just cried once. Remus was proud, but also kinda jealous. By what his parents told him, his first day basically consisted in him eating a bug and being excluded for the whole year after that. What I great fucking way to start things. 

But if Roman was so much better, I guess it meant he did a better job than his parents. Not like being better than those assholes was that hard tho. 

As the morning went over, Roman got back, his face red and sweaty from all that playing. On the moment Remus saw that ear to ear grin, he knew it was worth it and couldn’t stop himself from smiling too.

“How was it?” asked just so his son could talk, which he loved too, it clearly went well. He was there after all.

“It was so cool! I made friends and we played and teacher is nice and we ‘eated’ pizza and hot dogs and watched a movie!”

“I’m glad! So… We want to come tomorrow too?” Roman violently nodded, jumping up and down.

“Yes, yes!

“Neat. How ‘bout we grab some ice cream on our way? We sure do need some food” I know, I know, ice cream is not really food, but give him a break. Also, Roman managed to seem even happier.

“Ice creaaam!” He yelled. Remus smiled again, feeling that warm feeling in his chest that was familiar at that moment. Love. It was hard, of course, sometimes he felt like he couldn’t make it, like he was just not born for the job and would eventually just screw everything. But he was trying, which was better than he could say for Roman’s “mother” or his own parents, so maybe he could convince himself that trying was enough. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Comic-con.”

You guys wanted something fluffier and lighthearted, so I took a suggestion from a group of the Discord server, and did this with it I hope you guys like, and thank you for the suggestions.  “Where are you taking me? And why am I wearing this?”

Adam frowned at her, “Don’t be such a party pooper, I took you to watch MMA last week, and now its my turn to pick the fun activity.”

Sunny held up the glowing weapon --of facsimile of a weapon--, “What is this called again.”

“It’s an energy sword, from a really REALLY old video game.”

“And what are you supposed to be.”

Adam turned to look at her, shaking his head in disappointment, “Sometimes, I am sad for your lack of pop culture education.”

“And whose fault is it for my lack of pop culture education?”

He tapped his chin, “I suppose that is true.” 

“To be fair the pop culture you subscribe to is like two thousand years old.” She looked him up and down. He was wearing a spacesuit and a jetpack. This might have been normal for him were it not for the painstaking hours that he had spent painting the thing and applying decals.

Where the standard issue UNSC space - suit ranged anywhere from white to silver to dark blue, this one was in a gaudy combination of white with green and purple highlights with a blue decal on the front embossed with the outline of stylized white wings. Under that, he had taken the time to dye one of the old undersuits purple, and was now wearing the hood to complete ‘the affect’

“Seriously though. What are You?”

He turned to look at her grinning and patted her on the shoulder, “Just wait.”

She sighed and did as told following him out of the underground parking lot and up into the sun. She threw her hand over her face as they came up into the sun, and when she withdrew her hand, she found herself surrounded by hundreds of humans all walking towards the same destination, and all of them were dressed, strangely… she couldn’t tell which ones for sure, because humans always seemed to dress strangely, but something bout this gave her the feeling that these ones were doing it on purpose..

At her side, Adam was grinning.

Following the line of people her eyes traced up to the large, and spacious building just up ahead. The walls were made out of metal and glass paneling, and across their surface scrolling scenes from movies and comic strips flashed.

Off to her side, a man in a blue and red suit, with a big yellow S on the front went floating past, his hover boots giving him the effect as if he were flying, red cape billowing out behind him.

Someone else to their side was walking a rather large brown dog towards the building. It had a teel collar and a couple of painted on black spots, while he was wearing a  green shirt and brown pants. He looked like he really needed a haircut.

Sunny tilted her head to better read the letters on the building before her.

J. HAIL CONVENTION HALL 

They were just outside the doors when someone ran up to them. THey looked younger, maybe in their teens, dressed with an elaborately colored wig, and strange colorful clothes, “Holy Shit! Your costumes are awesome, Can I get a picture?”

“Hell yeah.” Adam motioned the kid closer, pulling Sunny down beside them so the kid could grab a picture and then turn to look at Sunny, “How did you make it look so real. You look just like the Drev from that movie.” 

She stared at him before looking down at herself.

Adam laughed, “It looks real because it IS real.”

The kid stared at them in disbelief, “No way.”

“Yeah she's a real life actual alien.”

Eyes went even wider, I...w...wow.” 

Sunny shrugged and waved one of her arms to the kid as Adam dragged her further up the line.

“Here, hold out your hand.” She did as told and he wrapped a small plastic bracelet around her wrist. The letters on the band read VIP

Walking over to the doors they were stopped by a group of people holding up their hands. One of them walked around them, and pointed at Adam’s jetpack, “YOu have a licence for that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” 

He reached into one of the pockets on his suit and pulled it out to show them. THey looked it over and then nodded, and he grinned. Tey read off some rules before they were suddenly interrupted.

Voices behind them, and Sunny turned.

A group of people walked up, one of them was dressed like a cowboy with a yellow shirt and blue pants, with a brown hat.

Another human in a blow up dinosaur costume pointed at Adam’s uniform,

“And what does that button do.”

Adam grinned, and Sunny watched him with a fond shake of her head as he approached them, putting on some sort of character voice.

“Ill show you.” Looking around to make sure that everyone was clear, he deployed the wings of the jetpack, striped in red and white.

The group oohed and ahhed.

THe cowboy moved forward, “Oh what, these are plastic, he can’t fly.”

“They are a trillium carbonic alloy and I CAN fly.”

“No you can’t”

“Yes I can.”

“Can’t.”

“CAN.”

“Can’t Can’t Can’t.”

“I could fly around this convention center with my eyes closed.”

Sunny just stood there watching them nervously shifting back and forth. She had a feeling that they were arguing, but it also felt very scripted, though how it could be scripted, she didn’t know. They had never seen these people as far as she was concerned.

The other man moved very close, “Ok then my light beer, prove it.”

“Alright then, I will.”

He held out his hands voice growing a bit more serious as he did, “Everyone step back.”

They did as told, and the cowboy was smiling now instead of frowning.

“Adam, is this legal.” Sunny wondered.

He turned to look at her, “Yes, the convention center has its own airspace just for this. I had to sign a waver.” He turned back to the others and ignited the engin on the jetpack kicking off the ground.

His flight was far more controlled than his original flight, and he flew in a fast circle around the area, dropping in with a flip to land before them to the cheering of an amassed crowd.

He pointed at the cowboy, “CAN.”

“That wasn’t flying, that was falling with style.” The man protested though he was grinning even as he walked over to take a picture with Adam.

“Pretty sure that made my day, your costume is awesome. Is this a real spacesuit.”

“You bet it is.”

“Where did you get your hands on one.”

“Oh I have my sources. Did you make your costume?”

“Sewed it myself. The hat and boots I bought though.”

They parted ways with Adam’s new friend and stepped inside the convention center scanning their bracelets as they went in.

“Welcome, Sunny to the biggest nerd convention ever conceived of by man...ComicCon.”

She turned in a wide circle eyes wide at thousands of booths, thousands of people all talking and laughing. He grabbed her hand and dragged hr further inside, “IF your good, I’ll buy you a sword.”

“Nerds want swords?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, “Of course nerds want swords. Here, lets start over there and movie this way, through the art section first.”

Sunny did as told, following after him.

She never knew Adam being one to spend a lot of money, he had no reason too, but after the first ten minutes she figured out that he was a little bit of a spender when it came to nerdy things. Posters and drawings and other related items.

However, she was surprised to find that they did have leather workers and blacksmiths as they were called, and she did…. In fact… get herself a sword which she recognized from the lord of the rings movie he had made her watch. It was a pretty good sword all things considered as if whoever made it actually knew how to make swords.

They were coming around a corner when they almost ran into another group of people. Adam dropped one of his bags and the other reached down to pick it up. When he stood, Sunny's eyes widened. Blond hair green eyes and an eyepatch, “Sweet Costume!”

She shook herself thinking she had bumped her head or something and was seeing double, but no, when she looked closer she realised that this person couldnt have been more than fifteen or sixteen…. And dressed like Adam.

She looked over at Adam who was standing mouth open eyes wide.

“Can I get a picture!”

Sunny just nodded her head as the kid jumped over next to her and had his friend take it before running off yelling back at her about her amazing costume.

Adam turned to look at Sunny, “Did I just>”

“I think you did.”

He shook himself, “Wow.”

She nodded 

After that it started happening more and more. 

Adam was everywhere, in all stages of life. They had recreated his uniforms, his flight suits, his space suits. They brought their dogs. There were even gender bent versions of him, blond women wearing eyepatches, brown jackets and jeans making it very clear who they were .

It got even more weird when Sunny started seeing herself.

Small children in costumes made of foam.

People wearing onesies that sort of looked like her, and even one costume that had a woman on stilts for her legs, and a complex system of homemade mechanics to allow her to move around.

Adam stood there mouth open just staring at them.

Sunny laughed at the irony.

He was here as a guest, and no one knew.

If only they had any idea that the real deal was here and dressed like a space ranger from a two thousand year old cartoon.

Sunny tilted her head listening to the announcements which said there would be a “Adam Vir look alike contest going on on the other side of the convention.

She turned to look at Adam and they  both began to laugh hysterically. She grabbed his arm. We have to see this.

They wandered over just as the others were filtering in. And there were TONS of them, all dressed like Adam. One stopped next to him, spiky blond hair, clearly dyed for the occasion, wearing a flight suit and aviators.

Adam Tried to avoid eye contact with anyone as they sat down to watch, however no one recognized him, not even close.

They sat, watching the judging.

An adorable little boy with blond hair and a NASA T-shirt won for the younger age bracket.

The jumpsuit wearing kid to their right won for his teenage years.

At the end it was up between two men, one in casual wearing and one in a uniform. The one wearing the uniform had a similar lopsided grin as Adam and she would have chosen him as a dead ringer, and was almost put off when they chose the other man, who was, on the other hand, roguishly handsome.

She snorted, “He looks nothing like you.”

“But he does look like Keith Jenning who played me, so I guess people sort of conflate us as being the same person.”

“This is so unreal.”

They laughed again as they walked away sunny pointing out he probably would have lost the contest if he had tried to enter, and he laughed along with her.

THey were perusing through a booth with a bunch of old vintage movies when another announcement came over the intercom, saying that the cast of Adam’s movie was going to be speaking.”

Adam’s eyes widened, and together they made their way wanting to see what all the fuss was about. There were hundreds of people packed into the large room, and they were only able to get space just along one wall.

Up at the table, he recognized Keith Jenning, Rita. Ortiz, and Adler Handen, the voice actor for Krill and the woman who played Sunny.

Adam leaned back against the wall to watch.

Keith didn’t look anything like Adam at this moment, his hair back to brown like it usually was.

Hands raised in the crowd as questions were shot out, “What was the hardest part of playing Adam Vir?”

Keith laughed and then paused, “I think it might have been the eyepatch. I stubbed my toe like…. What was it Rita, we kept track on set.”

“About 456 times during the course of filming.” She added, and the group of them laughed.

“How accurate is the story to what actually happened?” Someone called out

Adler Handen leaned forward, “You know it was actually pretty accurate because Adam Vir was actually consulting through the whole process, though I think it is glammed up to make him look maybe a little more….”

“Poised.” Rita added, “Ellis gave him a bit of an action hero spin.”

“What is he actually like?”

Keith smiled as did Rita, “He’s hilarious, and kind, and a bit of a clutz I would say.”

Rita laughed, “That is one part of the movie that is inaccurate. I think they should have put it in, but he was like the last man to step onto Proxima B, and when he did he says he actually fell out of the shuttle and landed on his face.”

There was laughter from the crowd.

“Honestly a really modest guy all told.

“He has the personality of a golden retriever…. In a good way obviously.” Rita said

Keith had stood up from his palace at the table and was looking around the crowd for more questions, when his eyes fell on Adam and Sunny not a few rows away leaning against the wall.

The recognition was instantaneous, despite them not having seen for a long time. He pointed his eyes wide, “Adam…. Adam is that you. Sunny?”

The entire crowd turned and thousands of eyes fell on them.

Adam was stuck like a deer in the headlights hands held up.

“No way It IS YOU. Someone grab a chair and get him up here.” 

Rita stood in her seat and waved.

Now people were standing to get a good look at them as two security people motioned them up.

Adam was bright red in the face as he was pushed to come on stage. The people looked confused, but when Adam pulled off his hood, and pulled on his eyepatch the entire convention center began cheering.

“Yeah give the man a round of applause.” Keith said pulling out a chair for him to sit on while Rita did the same for Sunny.

Adam shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“Nice costume, is that from Toy story?”

Adam shrugged, ‘Yeah, or the Tv show I guess.”

Someone hurried over with another microphone as the crowd below continued to babble and point.

Keith leaned forward, “Did I mention he was a raging nerd. Did you wear the costume to hide or….”

Adam shook his head, “No, I've been coming to the convention since I was a kid.”

There was cheering in the crowd.

Hands were raised high into the air for questions, and Adam blinked a bit red in the face still.

“Is it true what they said about Proxima B?”

Adam smiled, “uh yeah I fell flat on my face, right out the door. You see the movie had a ramp, but a ot of our ships don’t have ramps, they have doors because it would kind of be…. Impractical to have a whole ramp opening up into an airlock. So instead it had a door and stairs. And I got so excited that I missed the second stair and just fell.

“How accurate is the rest of the movie?”

He shrugged, still blushing, “They did make me look a little more… heroic, than I actually am. I mean there is a little known fact among members of the UNSC that doing a warp without a warp dampener like we did on the Enterprise was…. How shall we say… extremely hard on the body. About fifty percent of the men on the bridge peed themselves and passed out.”

There was laugher from the crowd.

“Were you part of the fifty percent?”

He snorted, “ I was nineteen of COURSE I was part of the fifty percent. Captain Kelly had a bladder of Iron though.”

More laughter.

“And when it came to meeting with aliens for the first time, I was so excited that I ran after them right….. Well as it turns out, to the aliens it looked really, really bad. Like they thought I was going to eat them.” More laughter, “We are still trying to repair human/Bran relations five years later because of me.”

More questions.

“What is your funniest story, something that didn’t appear in the movie?”

Adam had to think about it for a minute, “Did  I ever tell you about the first time we met Iotins or the Celzex.”

Cheering in the crowd,.

“Ok ok, so The one thing you need to know about Iotins is that they smell good, and I don’t mean your girl’s perfume good, I mean like continental breakfast with bacon and eggs and potatoes and I don’t know what else.” Sunny smiled as she listened to the sound of the crowd’s amusement, “This is the kind of smell that turns you into one of pavlov’s Dogs. Drooling all over yourself stomach grumbling the whole nine. So when we met them for the first time, it was during a GA convention and my men hadn’t eaten since breakfast. It was so bad, I drooled all over my uniform and we scared the Iotin council half to death.”

He smiled as the crowd encouraged him into more stories.

“Then of course there is the Celzex, a very war-like race, very honor bound and very easy to offend. And yet they are about a foot tall rainbow colored, fluffy and with  adorable pig ears. These guys were designed to be cuddled, and yet, not one human has ever done it for fear of pissing them off since they have weapons that could glass our entire planet.”

He was Animated as he told his stories, and the crowd was animated with him

“Sunny, i have a question.” She lifted her head in surprise, “Is it true you grew up in a stone hut/”

She hummed deep in her chest, “Yes, where else would I have grown up.”

“So you didn’t have electricity?”

She shook her head, “No, why would we need it?”

She answered a few more questions.

And then one young man stood.

“So, I was wondering, you supported the LFIL during their protests.”

Adam shifted nervously in his seat, “I did.”

“And it’s because of you that they are in a probationary state of legality.”

“Yes.”

.”“So I was wondering, considering all that and considering your relationship with Sunny. Have you tow ever thought about dating.” Adam blanched white and you could have heard a pin drop.

Sunny glanced quickly over at adam. A part of her really wanted him to admit it to people, but another part of her-- the bigger part-- knew that doing it here in front of thousands of people would be a disaster. He opened his mouth to stammer out a question but Sunny leaned forward towards her mic.

“You misunderstand Drev courting customs. He would have to be able to beat me in a fight first.

Factions of the room muttered, and Sunny quickly moved the conversation on to more Funny stories.

Adam turned his head towards her with a look of relief.

With her head turned form the cameras she gave him a brief wink before turning back.

They didn’t exactly get to see the rest of the convention as they were waylaid by people wanting autographs and to talk to him. He of course was good natured and answered all their questions with a smile and gave pictures with enthusiasm.

She smiled

He was kind like that.

Thought some worries gnawed at the back of her mind.

People were beginning to suspect, and that could be a big problem for Adam.

[lovelucybradford]

I Pretend You’re Mine (4)

A/N: Hi all! I know it’s been a while. Unfortunately adulting sucks and I was so caught up in my work situations that I had no more left to give. Thankfully, the writer’s block has gone away (for now). I planned to have this up on Valentine’s Day, butttt *writer’s block*. So, to make up for it, I’m (hopefully) giving you two chapters this weekend. Chapter five is a continuation of four; it was just so long that I decided to split it into two parts. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for all the love! 

Masterlist

Tags: @empath-bunny​

@ityagirljay​​

@wolfarrowepz​

@supernatural-crazed-girl

Chapter Four: Drag Me Headfirst, Fearless

As soon as the plane landed on the tarmac in sunny Florida, the reality of Rosalie’s upcoming situation had hit her like a freight train. She’d been a nervous wreck since. Rosalie jiggled her leg so much on the Uber ride to the port of call that Stiles, the human form of the Energizer bunny, had placed a hand on her knee and urged her to stop. At that point, Rose figured she’d better cool it before she completely lost her resolve and ‘jumped ship’, so to speak.

So, Rosalie began listing things that she could count on in an attempt to center herself. It was something that the woman had been taught and perfected over many years of intense therapy sessions. She rattled off the list in her mind as she concentrated on the quickly passing palm trees on the side of the highway.

Things That Rosalie Could Count on For the Trip from Hell:

One: Knowing Rosalie’s stepmother Evelyn, who made her career out of creating high-class soirees such as this, everything would be meticulously planned out, down to the minute. If it were up to her, she’d even plan the times that they could use the toilet.

Two: Rosalie would most likely be the talk of the event, until the gossip hounds found something, or someone, juicier to bite into. The last time that she had seen the relatives, all twenty of them (minus her Uncle Joe and Aunt Natalie, who wanted nothing to do with her father), was three days before Drew and Rose had their untimely breakup. Drew, who was more family to them than Rosalie ever was.

Luckily, if she had to go through hell, at least…

Three: Rosalie’s support system would be with her 100%. She had Lydia to give reassuring hand squeezes and the family subtle insults. Her brother Levi who, as much of a jackass that he could be, would defend his sister’s honor to the (metaphorical) death. Stiles and Rose would lounge around the open bar and mock her Uncle Tom as he attempted to ‘dance’, or Aunt Sarah who would undoubtedly flirt with Derek.

Derek… Rose’s confidante, her best friend, her anchor, who hadn’t spoken a word since they stepped foot on the extravagant vessel.

Rosalie could chalk it up to being so breath taken from the scenery that Derek had nothing to say. Even Stiles had repeatedly commented “Holy shit this is so bougie” ten times in the last five minutes. (Not that she couldn’t agree. Her  father Jason was the poster child for ‘go big or go home’) To be fair, it was beautiful. The atrium was adorned floor to ceiling in shades of gold, a large diamond chandelier smack in between two beautiful staircases.

Staircases that gave Rosalie an eerie sense of déjà vu. Only because she had seen something bearing a high resemblance to them in a movie featuring her fictional doppelgänger, a fellow redhead who shared Rose’s name.

Part of her wondered if this was her father’s idea of a sick joke. Rosalie had always said that Drew and her were ‘Jack and Rose’. Turns out Drew was more of a Cal Hockley than a Jack Dawson. As for Rosalie, she was still Rose, forever searching in that freezing sea for her Jack. She should have known that she and Drew were doomed to sink beneath the waves.

Sink beneath the waves… Rosalie’s heart began to pound faster as she grabbed ahold of Lydia’s wrist, relying on her cousin to guide her through the maze of humans and staircases to the staterooms.

Derek and Stiles walked ahead of the two, the former’s back stiff with tension.

Was he predicting, too, that this plan of theirs would go down like the Titanic?

Or was he dreading playing Rosalie’s lover in front of a ship full of pompous asses and the occasional normal person?

Derek normally exuded confidence, from the strong set of his jaw to the way that he entered a room. At that moment, he looked more like a frightened schoolboy than a man with enough swagger for their whole friend group.

His blatant anxiety just heightened Rosalie’s. Before she could really process it, Lydia was pulling her arm away and gently shaking Rose’s shoulder.

“Rose? Rosalie!”

Rosalie shook her head, clearing her thoughts and focusing on the hazel of Lydia’s eyes. “Hmm? Sorry.”

Lydia let out a puff of air, blowing upwards the tendrils of hair that weren’t securely fastened in her high ponytail. “We’re here. Go settle in and we’ll meet you in a bit.”

Lydia then shoved Rosalie towards Derek, who caught her with a hand on her elbow. He took the key card from Rose’s sweaty palm and slid it into the slot on the handle, opening the door to a stateroom with a balcony overlooking the crystal sea. The stateroom… with one bed.

Rosalie tried not to hyperventilate thinking that Derek and she had to share that.

“You can take the bed,” Derek commented as soon as he too laid eyes on it.

Rose ignored him, deciding to handle that situation later, flopping full-bodied onto the plush mattress. The white comforter smelled like a swift ocean breeze, and she couldn’t help but press her nose further into it.

“What is it with you and smelling things today?” Derek chuckled.

Rosalie threw a nearby pillow at him, her face still buried in the bed. “Shut up, asshole.”

The bed shifted to the right of where she lied, the fabric dipping a foot away. That made her feel better. At least if they had to share it like when they were kids, there would be enough space between the two of them so that things wouldn’t happen. Which Rosalie would make sure of. Well, sober her would make sure of it. Drunk her could not be trusted.

“I didn’t hear a word you said, but I assume it was something along the lines of ‘you’re an asshole.”

Rose rolled onto her side. “Close, but no dice…” She lost the train of thought as her eyes caught on a glittering cardstock pamphlet lying between the two of them.

Martin Family Reunion 2019

Day 1: Thursday, June 13th

5:00 pm- Disembark from Cape Canaveral

7:00 pm- Welcome Cocktails in the Stardust Lounge, Deck 6

All must attend.

Proper Cocktail Attire required for entry.

Rosalie groaned so loudly that a masculine laugh resounded from the other side of the wall.

“What?” Derek responded to his friend’s displeasure. Without a word, the woman passed him the pamphlet, watching out of the corner of her eye as his beautiful olive eyes took in the itinerary. His face contorted into a sour expression, and he put down the paper at once.

With a pat to Rose’s thigh, Derek got up from the bed and grabbed his wallet and the aviator sunglasses that were resting on the vanity table. Her eyes followed his form, waiting for some kind of explanation as to where in the hell he thought he was going.

“You and Lydia have fun getting ready. Stiles and I are going down to that bar we saw in the atrium.”

Rosalie gaped, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Wh—what? What about—”

“Would you chill? I’ll be back before seven. I need a drink before I see The Stepford Family.”

Rosalie snorted rather unattractively at Derek’s choice nickname for her father and his new family. Evelyn and her daughters certainly were like characters dragged out of The Stepford Wives film.

Derek was about to leave the room, when he paused, two fingertips grazing the golden door handle. He turned his body slightly to face Rose, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“It’s all-inclusive, right? Everything we buy with the key card goes on his tab?”

She assumed that by ‘his’, Derek meant her father, Jason.

“Yup,” Rosalie replied, popping the ‘p’.

“In that case, I’ll make sure to get the most expensive liquor that they have,” Derek smiled deviously, lazily waving the golden keycard.

She was momentarily distracted by his pretty face, and the familiar but unwanted fluttering in her stomach. By the time Rosalie snapped out of her thirstiness, he was gone.

__________________

Rosalie stumbled in her Louboutin’s for the sixth time, looking quite like the person who’d had three shots of Whiskey that was bottled before she was born.

Derek, the one who actually had, so smoothly wrapped his arm around Rose’s waist for support. The heat of his palm warmed her skin, even through the mint green cocktail dress she was wearing, but it was the last thing on her mind.

With every step that they took towards the wooden double doors at the entrance of the Stardust Lounge, the more Rose’s stomach churned, and her vision blurred. Eventually, her heart pounding through her ribcage was the only sound that Rosalie could hear.

Rosalie stopped abruptly, frantically searching for a bathroom, for a garbage can, for a balcony that she could jump off of.

Derek continued walking but was pulled back by the hand that was grasping Rose’s still figure.

 “I can’t do this. Oh god, I can’t do this. I think I’m going to throw up,” she breathed shallowly, the urge to vomit slowly creeping up her throat. Rose hastily removed Derek’s grip from her waist, struggling to find her balance, and teetered towards the opposite wall. Before she could go very far, Derek’s rough hand was in hers, squeezing it in a likely attempt to bring Rosalie back to center.

“What?” She heard Lydia begin, but Derek had silenced Lydia instantly with a rushed command of “Go, stall for us. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Hold your breath, Rosie!” Stiles called as Derek led a dazed Rosalie to a cream-tiled room.

Stiles’ advice brought Rose back to the time, years ago, when Lydia had told her that she’d kissed Stiles mid panic attack after his dad was shot pursuing a perp.

“When I kissed you, you held your breath,” Lydia had said to Stiles.

Rosalie had thought it romantic at the time. So romantic. But she prayed that Derek didn’t try that trick on her. Rose couldn’t handle it, not when…

Derek grabbed hold of either side of Rosalie’s face with both hands, forcing her to look at him.

“Rose. Rosie! Look at me. Breathe,”

His face so close to hers just made her breathing speed up, not slow like he intended.

“Fuck Rosalie,” Derek voiced, sounding almost as breathless as his best friend.

He nodded once, then took a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, his eyes never leaving Rosalie’s tear-stained face. “Breathe with me, babe. In, out.”

She tried to follow his lead, but only to appease him. Rosalie couldn’t stand that desperate look in his eyes, the frantic shifting of his gaze, or the tense set of his jaw. The thought of him being in pain like that, even emotional pain,it physically hurt her.

“Good. Good, Rosie. Keep going.”

She took a few more breaths through her nose, the world-ending feeling lessening with each exhale.

“You good?” Derek questioned, his thumb rubbing lightly up and down the woman’s cheek.

Rosalie nodded softly, still not having the breath to voice any thoughts.

She leaned back on the countertop, feeling the coolness of the tile and the mirror behind her. Rose hadn’t noticed before, but they were hiding from the family in a large single bathroom. Rosalie laughed to herself. It wasn’t the first time that she’d had a mental breakdown next to a toilet. And it probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Thanks,” Rose commented hoarsely, not daring to look at Derek in fear of what he might think of her. Weak was the only word that came to mind. “Sorry for freaking out. Never thought you’d have to console someone in a bathroom, did you?”

Derek snorted, and Rose’s heart dropped a bit at the sound, thinking that he was mocking her. “Actually, you’re not the first crying woman that I’ve held in a cramped bathroom.”

She raised one brow at him, a wordless cue to elaborate.

“I may or may not have had a girlfriend with a pregnancy scare back in college.”

“Of course, you did,” Rosalie said before she could really think about it, heart once more dipping in her chest. What was she thinking, pretending to be engaged to someone like Derek Hale?

Derek Hale, who could have any woman he wanted. Who would think that he would settle for someone as quiet and average as Rosalie?

“Hey.” Derek stepped in front of her, further away than he was minutes ago, but not by much. “Never apologize for being human, for having feelings and fears. Especially not to me.”

All Rosalie could manage was a small smile, to which he reciprocated with one of his own.

“You’re still the strongest woman I know. Stronger than Cora, stronger than mom—”

“I don’t know about that,” she replied playfully.

Derek rolled his eyes and continued on with his motivational speech, every word loosening the tense muscles in her shoulders. “Yes, even my mom. But don’t tell her I said that. Hey, if you’re worried about your family, then fuck them. They should be thankful that you’re even here after all the shit they threw at you.”

Rosalie nodded, fingers playing absently with the sapphire ring on her left hand—thinking about the last time she had worn a diamond on the same finger. And the man that put it there. Who took it so easily and put it on someone else. Not just someone else: Ashleigh.

“No, I can see it in your face. You’re worried about seeing Drew again, aren’t you?”

Damn him for being so perceptive, and for knowing her so well. Rosalie went to deny it but found that she couldn’t lie to him.

“You know what, we’ll walk in there, I’ll see him, and you know what I’ll say?”

He was smiling again, grinning ear to ear like he thought he was hilarious. It was so rare to see him like that that she humored him just to keep that smile on his face.

“And what will you say, may I ask?”

“’Me thinks thou art a general offence and every man should beat thee.’”

Rosalie couldn’t help herself as her head swung back in a fit of giggles. “Oh my God, Derek Hale. You are such a dork.”

“Ah,” he countered, holding up a finger, “You can’t say that. Not when you totally got my joke.”

Rosalie beamed up at him. “Ok, fine. We’re both dorks. Happy, Derek the Bard?”

“Yes, princess. I’m enthused. You ready to go?” Derek gestured with a thumb towards the door. The door that lead to the hallway. The hallway to the Starboard Lounge, where all of Rosalie’s family would stare at her like she was some rare creature on the auction block.

“No,” Rose said weakly.

Derek rolled his eyes again, a look that Rose was more familiar with than the Cheshire Cat grin that previously lit up his face. “Yes, you are.”

Rosalie stared at herself in the large, lighted mirror, checking over her face and hair for damages. Trust Rose’s family to point out a single flaw in her appearance. She looked mostly put together, save for the tiny specks of black mascara under her eyes and the slightly faded red lipstick. Rose grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, wetting it and dabbing under her eyes until all of the mascara smears disappeared.

Satisfied, Rosalie tossed the towel in the garbage bin and grabbed her clutch. “Do I look okay?”

Derek’s eyes swept her form, taking in everything from the pale white of Rosalie’s untanned legs to the lace of her dress, to the retro curls in her hair. She suddenly felt self-conscious, even more so when Derek stayed silent.

Rose nudged him with her elbow, hoping he would say something, anything, and end this deafening silence. His eyes flicked back towards Rosalie. “You look beautiful.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that she knew he was just saying that because he’s her best friend and he has to.

“I mean it, Rosalie,” Derek added firmly.

“What about me? Do I look good enough to fit in with high-society?” Derek asked, hand sweeping down his body.

Rosalie took it as an unashamed excuse to study him. The unbuttoned suit jacket that he wore hugged his biceps so nicely that it was hard to not stare at them for too long. The white shirt under it was buttoned, except for the two closest to the top that were left open to show a peek of dark chest hair.

In short, he looked like a snack, and damn was Rosalie hungry. Not that she could tell him that, of course. So, she just repeated what he already knew. “Of course. You know you’re hot.”

Derek’s eyes widened, his ears turning slightly pink. “You think I’m hot?”

“You think you’re hot.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Um, yes you do. You get that look on your face when you’re flirting with girls like ‘I’m sexy and I know it.’”

“God, that was one time Rosalie! It guess I will never live it down.”

Rosalie snickered at the memory. “No, you won’t. Now be a good pretend fiancé and help me walk.”

“Why the hell are you wearing those stilettos if you can’t even walk in them?”

“Lydia made me.”

Derek said nothing, knowing that there was no arguing with Lydia Martin. He offered his friend his arm, ever the gentleman. In turn, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, trying not to get too distracted by the muscle under it.

[teacupfulofstarshine]

but i make these high heels work

summary: roman has something new that he wants to try out, but he’s nervous about his family’s reactions. he needn’t be; they’ve always got his back. 

(OR: a birthday fic for roman sanders, set in my moxiety dad au)

a/n: i’m jumping on @notveryglittery‘s “giving the gay everything he wants” agenda. happy birthday roman sanders!!! 

cw: anxiety, mild angst, fear of homophobia

wordcount: ~1.8k

read it on ao3!! 

Roman carefully smooths his hands over the fabric spread out across his bed. He knows that no one else is awake yet. Not even Logan, who routinely wakes up early because apparently he can run on crumbs of sleep and nothing else. Not even Dad, the earliest riser out of all of them, since he doesn’t have any pressing appointments. No one is awake but Roman. 

He’d tossed and turned all night, barely snatching a few hours. He knows he’s going to regret that later, but he also knows that there’s nothing particularly important happening today, so Papa and Dad will be more lenient if he decides to nap. So, rather than waiting until later to roll out of bed, Roman gets up a good hour before anyone else. He makes his bed - properly, this time, pulling off the excess of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals and tucking his thick quilt in. He never has the time or the willpower to make it in the mornings, but today. 

Well.

Today, he has anticipation thrumming in his chest like caught lightning, and he needs something to do with his hands. 

Roman showers, quietly. The bathroom is between his room and Logan’s, and there’s always the off chance that the water running will wake up his lightweight-sleeper brother. He holds his breath, keeping in all the melodies that usually bubble from his mouth in the shower, and is rewarded with no signs of wakefulness from his brother. 

He doesn’t bother to wash his hair, so he doesn’t have to worry about blow-drying his fluffy curls. Instead, he spritzes them with dry shampoo he stole from his Papa and combs through them with his fingers. It takes him about fifteen minutes to get them to just the right state of artfully tousled, but it still doesn’t waste nearly enough time. 

Which brings him to here, sitting cross-legged on his perfectly-made bed, staring at the fabric spread across his quilt. It’s plain, compared to what he usually wears, but he supposes that’s the trouble with borrowed clothing. Adding to all that, it’s not real clothing; it’s an old prop he’d salvaged from a box of costumes destined to be torn apart and repurposed. He kind of wishes he had the courage to ask Dad or Papa to take him to the mall to buy a proper one, but he’s never been that kind of brave. 

Roman fiddles with the hem of the skirt between his fingers. 

It’s red, at the very least, but not the proper shade of red. It’s garish and bright, like a firetruck, like a cartoon bloodstain. It comes down to about Roman’s knees, hanging in loose folds, and it’s not the most comfortable thing he’s ever worn, but he loves it. He loves the way the fabric feels when it swishes around his knees, he loves the way it flares out when he spins in circles, he loves the way it feels to smooth the fabric beneath him in a single fluid motion when he sits down. 

He’s terrified to wear it out of the comfort of his bedroom, but he figures that today, June first, the first day of pride month, is as good a day as any to come out of the closet. Roman sighs, curling his hands into loose fists on his thighs. 

His phone pings with a notification, and Roman almost falls off his bed as he scrambles forward to snatch his cell phone off his desk. He takes a moment to smile at his home screen photo before answering the message: it’s a picture of himself and Janus from last year’s pride festival. They’re wrapped in a rainbow flag like a cape, leaning their heads together and laughing. Janus has a genderqueer flag painted across his cheek, and Roman has rainbow star stickers across his nose and a rainbow bandanna tying back his hair. 

Roman thumbprints his phone open and checks his messages. It’s from Janus himself. 

[7:41 am] snoyfriend (snake boyfriend): you’re going to do wonderfully, dearest. your family loves you, and they’ll support you no matter what. and even if they don’t, i support you no matter what. i love you <3 

Roman wiggles his feet back and forth eagerly in a gleeful stim as he taps out a response. 

[7:43 am] me: thank you, snove (snake love). ily2 <3 

[7:44 am] snoyfriend (snake boyfriend): are you ever going to stop calling me snake-themed nicknames, beloved?

[7:44 am] me: sno (snake no) 

[7:46 am] snoyfriend (snake boyfriend): i hate you <3 

[7:47 am] me: i snove (snake love) you too <3 <3 

*~*~*~*~*

Someone knocks on his door around 8:45. “Ro? Are you coming down to breakfast? I’m making pridecakes!” Dad calls. Roman’s stomach growls at the thought; every year, Dad makes multiple colors of homemade pancake batter and draws pride-flag pancakes on the griddle.

“I’ll be down in a minute!” Roman says. 

“Okay, kiddo!” 

Roman takes a deep breath. He slides off his bed and shimmies out of his pajama pants. Rummaging around in his drawers, he pulls out a white t-shirt with a swooping golden outline of the Disney castle on the front. Carefully, he steps into the puddle of skirt and tugs the red fabric up over his hips. It’s not a perfect fit, but it comes down to his knees. Roman studies himself in the full-length mirror on the inside of his closet. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he sighs, reaching for the rainbow bandana on his desk. He folds it and ties it to form a headband which he uses to push his bangs off his forehead. “It’s going to be okay. Dad and Papa aren’t going to hate you. Thomas and Logan aren’t going to hate you. It’s going to be okay.” 

Roman waits until he hears Logan and Thomas go downstairs before he leaves. He picks up his phone, glances at the photo of himself and Janus one more time, and then steps into the hallway. 

He lurks on the stairs for a moment, glancing into the kitchen. Logan is sleepily gnawing on a bagel slathered with jam. Papa is pouring coffee into a row of mugs while Thomas helps Dad with the pridecakes. Roman grips his skirt tightly in his hands, watching his family, and then he steps into the kitchen. 

“Morning.” 

“Good morn - oh!” Dad whirls around, holding a spatula which he quickly foists off onto Thomas. He hurries forward, taking Roman’s shoulders, eyes scanning up and down his outfit. “That’s new! Where’d you get it?” 

“It’s an old costume skirt,” Roman says. “Is that - am I - do you -��

Dad smiles, eyes crinkling up as he leans in to kiss Roman’s forehead. “I think you look wonderful, Roman. No matter what you choose to wear.” Roman smiles, hugging his dad tightly. He feels Dad reach up and press a hand into the back of his hair, rocking them back and forth a little as they hug. 

When Dad pulls away, Roman’s eyes jump up to Thomas. He grins, flashing a thumbs up, and Roman shakily offers one back. “Nice skirt,” Papa says, wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulders and pulling him in. Roman feels Papa press a kiss to the top of his head, and he fights to keep himself from crying. 

Roman turns, looking at the only family member who hasn’t said anything yet. Logan is still placidly chewing his bagel, watching Roman with his typical calmness. “Logan?” Roman hates the way his voice shakes a little. “Do you like it?” 

Logan swallows and sets his bagel down. He scans over Roman’s outfit with a strange critical expression and says, “No. It looks completely wrong on you.” 

Roman’s heart sinks to the bottom of his chest. Logan stands up, scanning over Roman repeatedly, frowning as he stares at the skirt. “Logan,” Dad says warningly. 

Logan keeps talking. “That is the wrong color for your skin tone. It does not compliment the tan you always achieve in the summer months. The shape is unflattering on your body type, and the material is -” Logan reaches out and rubs the material between two fingers, shuddering. “- is entirely unpleasant. This skirt is completely wrong for you.” 

Roman recognizes the glint in his brother’s eye as he examines the skirt with a critical eye. It’s the way he looks at pieces of clothing that the theater department asks him to help tailor. “You would look much nicer in a circle or handkerchief style skirt. That red is hideous, you need a darker shade. I think that dark green would also look nice on you.” 

“You . . . aren’t mad about me wearing a skirt?” 

Logan blinks at him. “To quote that Avatar show you like so much, ‘Pants are an illusion and so is death.’ Gender is a social construct and clothing should not be dependent on the genitalia you were born with. I do not care if you wish to wear a skirt or not, Roman. Why would I care?” 

“I was nervous about wearing a skirt because I thought you would judge me.” Logan takes a few steps closer, offering a small smile, and Roman feels his heart start to swell and rise like a balloon.

“I was not judging you for wearing a skirt, Roman. If you would prefer to wear a skirt, I will support you, always. I did not mean to imply otherwise. I merely meant to offer my assistance because that skirt looks uncomfortable.” 

“It really is,” Roman sighs. “I stole it from a box of outgoing props.” 

“Go put comfortable clothes on,” Logan tells him. “I am going to the fabric store with Dad later today. I will take your measurements and you can come with us to find a fabric you like. I will make you a skirt that actually fits you.” 

“You’d do that for me?!” 

“Skirts are relatively simple garments to sew, provided you get the measurements correct. I cannot promise that it will be perfect, but I will work to make sure that it is comfortable and flattering on your form.” Roman bounces eagerly. “Can I hug you?” 

Logan tilts his head, considering. “Ten seconds,” he decides, which is more than enough time. Roman pulls his brother into a hug, feeling Logan’s hand flap back and forth against his bag as he happily stims. 

“I love you, Logan,” Roman says, squeezing him tightly. Logan hums at the pressure, pushing closer to his brother before leaning backwards to signal that he’s done being hugged. Roman lets him go, settling down at the table. He can change after breakfast. 

(Two weeks later, Roman comes downstairs in a dark red circle skirt embroidered with golden stars and detailing. Logan hums, flapping and rocking happily when he sees Roman twirl around and show off the way the skirt flares around his thighs. 

“It’s perfect, it’s perfect, I love it so much!” Roman squeals. “Thank you, Logan!” 

Logan flaps even more in response.) 

[realityhelixcreates]

Dance of the Spheres Chapter 5: Martian March

Chapters: 5/?

Fandom:  Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: drugging, kidnapping, forced marriage

Characters: Loki(Marvel),

Additional Tags:  Loki Goes Overboard, But When Doesn’t Loki go Overboard, Mature Reader, Disabled Reader, Political Intrigue

Summary:  

I'm going back to Saturn where the rings all glow

Rainbow, moonbeams, and orange snow

On Saturn, people live to be two hundred and five

Going back to Saturn where the people smile.

                                              Saturn-Stevie Wonder

our rooms glittered. They were faced in massive scale pietra dura stone patterns from floor to ceiling. Gray, black, and white dominated, with a surprising amount of green mixed in, as well as startling pops of orange-red, blue, yellow, purple, and bright pink.

The designs were large and geometric, almost a sister style to the classic Art Deco that you saw on the older buildings downtown, mixed in among the flavorless glass towers and Brutalist boxes that defined the 'modern' era.

This main room housed a delicately carved stone couch and chairs, around a low stone table, and several stone shelves and storage boxes. These were all made of a black stone that held numerous yellowish-green crystals in their matrix, all polished so that the crystals shimmered.

This same stone appeared in the patterns on the walls and floor, as very thin panes on a pale backing, highlighting the colors of their crystals. This, along with a similar black stone with reddish-orange crystals, and a dark gray, large-grained stone that sparkled at any angle, was contrasted against the now familiar creamy white and pale orange. Here and there, inlays of silvery wire brought organic shapes to the mix.

The cloudy crystal made a reappearance in a round, well-lit, domed room Loki described as a 'Solar', even though no sun could reach this place. Instead, the clearest of the crystal had been set into the dome, all of it covering the mysterious lights, creating a bright light source that illuminated the room to something close to midday. The walls were covered in the cloudy crystal, which, in the bright light, shone with veils and flashes of iridescent blue.

On one wall there was a subtle inlay of  translucent gray stone, in the shape of clouds, that shone in splashes of blue and purple. Cleverly inlaid within them were specific pieces of the same type of stone, in the shape of lightning bolts that sparked yellow when viewed at the right angle, but were invisible from others.

He showed you the antechamber that connected your rooms and his, all in black and green. Even the lights were covered in thin panes of green crystals thickly packed in black matrix, casting a dim, viridian light over the whole chamber.

You decided that room was extremely creepy, and you never wanted to be in it.

The bath room was much better, ridiculously large, with a shower just out in the open, a wide counter with a mirror of polished metal, a huge tub carved right into a semi-finished block of stone, and a strange toilet tucked away in a stall in the corner. It was all big enough for you to move around in easily, though you mentioned that you would need a chair for the shower. Loki vowed to have one brought immediately.

But your bedroom was the obvious jewel. Loki puffed up with pride as he showed it off, as if he were the one who designed it. There were jewels in here, bright, bubblegum pink, golden yellow, and apple green in elaborate platinum settings, affixed to the walls. There was more cloudy gray and white crystal in here, with their blue and purple, pink and yellow flashes. The lights were clustered around the ceiling like stars, and the bed was another of the precious rare wooden objects, a four poster canopy bed, draped with a gauzy veil.

Most surprising of all, the bedroom had a window-or rather, a doorway out to a semi-circular balcony that overlooked what must be the main palace courtyard and entrance. When you stepped out onto it, you could see lines of guards-more people than you'd seen in one place since you'd been here. They framed the long, rectangular space every ten feet or so, in bright, brassy armor and sunny yellow capes.

This was clearly a cape kind of place.

It was very strange. You could have sworn you hadn't climbed any ramps, and you certainly hadn't gone up any stairs, but here you were, at least six stories up, and there were more stories above you.

“You must be clever builders.” you said without thinking about it.

“Our engineering capabilities are the envy of the galaxy, it's true.” Loki boasted. You believed him. All around the courtyard more balconies jutted out. Several dozen feet to the side of yours, the balcony you assumed must belong to Loki was connected to another large balcony on the opposite side by an elegant walkway, supported by slender pillars. There was a round platform in the center, and red curtains obscured the balcony on the other side.

“We can address large crowds from there, or call emergency meetings of the guards, or the other high nobles.” Loki said, following your gaze. “That's who lives on this floor. Myself, my brother, all of the most important Asgardians, and now you.”

But not for long, if you had any opportunity. “Uh, I'm honored.”

“How do you like them, though?” he pressed, “Is the décor to your liking? The size? We've been working on it for months, but we can still change things if you need.”

“Months?” you gasped, shocked. “You guys did all this in just months?”

Asgard had come to Earth a little under two years ago, decimated and begging for assistance. Thor led them, but no one knew Loki had come along. Thor himself served as his own liaison to the United Nations, bringing his case before the leaders of Earth, to secure a place for his people.

Obviously, it had worked. Thor's reputation and high-profile friends, as well as his surprisingly diplomatic and optimistic outlook had both charmed and discombobulated most people who spoke to him. People liked and respected him, but no one expected him to be savvy.

It had worked out very well for him and his people. They had secured some secret land that the entire U.N. had remained tight-lipped about. Then, a few months in, Thor had stopped making appearances, leaving Earth-Asgard relations to his advisors; an abrasive, undiplomatic woman whom you loved to watch, and a stoic and imposing man with unsettling eyes. Rumors flew for a while, but you hadn't paid much attention. There had been so much to fight for at home.

Did anyone even know you were gone? You were supposed to attend a march tonight. Or last night? You didn't know how long you had been asleep. Surely someone noticed you were missing.

But if they did, how would you even know?

“-harness the sun's energy over the long rotation period so that we can build even more efficiently.” Loki was saying. “We've done an admirable job for such a reduced population, but there is so much more to do.”

“And you took them away from that to build this for me?”

“I took them away from this to build special chambers for the princess of Asgard.” Loki corrected, “It was not a waste, nor was it superfluous. It was for someone important.”

“I'm not.” you insisted, “I'm just some rando they snatched up and tossed at you. I'm not princess material.”

“I will find out what is behind this.” he said, “But until I can, I want you to feel comfortable here. This is all yours now, and more.”

You couldn't, you couldn't allow yourself. You weren't supposed to be here. It was only a matter of time before this mix up was discovered, and a swap was arranged. You'd go home, and some other woman would take your place.

How horrible.

“But is everything to your liking? Do you need more light? More space? Is the bed all right for your leg? A good height?”

You were more than a little wary about getting into bed with him here, but as you hobbled over to it, he remained at a distance. You sank onto the plush mattress, with it's silky green sheets and thick comforter. It was very nice, soft and smooth, and warm, despite being placed on solid stone. Hopefully the blanket would ward off the slight chill that followed everywhere you had been so far.

“It's a good height,” you said, “especially if I get a new cane.”

“Excellent. Would you like to see my quarters?' he asked, “You may come and go between them as you please.”

Which meant that he could too. You didn't find that reassuring.

“Uh...isn't that, um, inappropriate?” you asked, casting about for any reason to refuse. “We haven't even, um, there hasn't even been a wedding!”

He paused, then his face broke into a beautiful, glowing smile. “Of course. I understand. You want that big celebration, naturally. Well, it is only fair, isn't it?” He sat down on the floor next to your bed, as if forgetting that he was a prince and a god, a powerful figure, abandoning his dignity to sit on the floor like a child.

“Do you want to plan it, or leave it to the advisors? Asgard is very good at grand weddings, but if you've had some specific plan for it, I'm sure we can accommodate it.”

“Uh...” This would be the perfect opportunity to stall. You could buy so much time with this! “I would like to plan it. There's things I've been wanting to do since I was a little girl. It would be a dream come true, to plan my own wedding.”

Not strictly true. Certainly, as a little girl you had contemplated flowers and a dress. There being a groom was far less important.

“Then begin any time you like.” Loki said warmly. “I'll have notebooks brought to you, and you can plan out whatever you want. Whatever it is, we can do it for you.”

You almost felt bad for what you were going to do, but on the other hand, you didn't trust him and his terrifying adoration, and horrible power over your life and safety. You'd make as many impossible demands and take up as much time as you possibly could. If it kept you safe. If it kept you from the nightmare scenario.

“I will have your bathing chair brought. You seem tired; shall I have dinner brought to you? We can dine in your audience room. We can have you measured for a new prosthetic, and for a new cane as well. The artificers will set to work on them immediately.”

“Um, sure. That sounds fine.” Dinner would be welcome, after only one apple and one cup of water. And a new, higher tech leg and cane might help you escape faster. You should take every opportunity available to you.

Loki helped you out to the largest room, with it's bookshelves and seating, and saw that you were comfortable. Then he bid you stay put and wait for a bit, while he got everything set up. You were in no shape to try for an escape right now; you would just bide your time.

You waited patiently, taking in the details of the beautifully precise stonework that made up your new-temporary-living quarters. What incredible workmanship. Shame it had been wasted on you.

Maybe someone else would have been thrilled. To have wealth and power, security and luxury, a handsome prince just handed to them with no effort on their part at all. That wasn't what you wanted though; you didn't want to join the lucky ones. You didn't want to be lifted out of your hardships and set above your peers, you wanted those hardships to be eliminated for everybody. You didn't want to be a social climber, you wanted a more equitable society. This fantasy was worthless to you. It had all been done without your consent.

A quiet knock on the door grabbed your attention. You didn't answer immediately, and the knock was hesitantly repeated.

“Um, come in?” you called.

The two adolescents you had run off before cracked the door open and peeked their heads in.

“Your highness?” the girl asked.

“May we enter?” the boy finished.

“Yeah, come in. I'm in a better mood now.” you said calmly. No need to be rude to them now that she knew what was going on. If Loki hadn't even known about the kidnapping, there was no way these kids were in on it.

“We were sent here to get measurements?” the boy-Andvarri wasn't it-asked shyly. “For a prosthetic leg, and a cane?”

“Yes, I was told you might be coming. I'm sorry about earlier: I was very disoriented and confused.”

“No harm done, your highness. This won't take long.”

The girl-Bjarkehilde-helped you stand as Andvarri took several measurements and asked about your preferences in weight and materials, flexibility and points of articulation, even colors and decorations.

They were going to put in a lot of effort to help you escape. A fine efficient leg, a sturdy lightweight cane, and Bjarkehilde even asked about what kinds of medication you needed, and for what.

Bjarkehild was surprisingly close to your height and build as well. That stayed in the back of your mind for a while after the two of them left.

As the minutes passed, you began to realize that you were going to need some kind of clock. You had no idea what time it was. There was no visible sunlight, the lights in your rooms hadn't changed at all, and no one had mentioned it at all. How did the Asgardians know? Was some kind of internal timekeeping part of their natural abilities?

Maybe it was the nebulous grasp of time, maybe it was the fading adrenaline and setting in of weariness, maybe it was residual drugs working their way out of your systems, but you began to feel strange as you waited for Loki to return. Either you felt hot, or the slight chill that was prevalent in this place was getting worse. Perhaps you had been staring at the artistic walls for too long, because the colors seemed to be vacillating between painfully saturated, and fuzzy at the edges.

It seemed to take forever for Loki to return, carrying a tray of food and drink. This he set on the lovely stone table before you, and then took a seat in a nearby chair.

“You must be ravenous by now.” he said, and you were. You leaned forward to inspect the offerings. The metal tray was filled with small stone bowls and plates, and two small cups of liquid. Was this how meals were traditionally served in Asgard? A great variety of small portions?

One of the cups turned out to be orange drink, from powder. You recognized that taste from your childhood. The dry air had made your tongue rough, and the acidic flavor was a blast on your tastebuds, as bright as the colors on the walls. The second cup was some kind of brown broth, possibly also from powder, as it got thicker at the bottom of the cup. There were dried apricots, soaked in honey, and dates, a barley porridge with a swirl of honey and a dash of cinnamon. There were common Saltine-type crackers that went with a very strange stew that looked like it was made, not just with re-hydrated vegetables, but re-hydrated meat as well. It tasted fine, but the texture left something to be desired.

You barely noticed. You wolfed it all down as Loki just sat and watched, having brought nothing for himself.

“I see you needed the fuel.” he commented, after every bite was gone. “Yes, I think you will need it. Beloved, I must tell you something about that apple you ate earlier. I can see it's effects are starting to take hold. Like I said earlier, I had thought to feed it to you slowly.”

“The apple? What...what's it doing to me?” Beloved? He was taking things a bit far, wasn't he? But you definitely were feeling weird. Uncomfortable. “I had just woken up and I didn't know where I was, or what was going to happen. I didn't know where my next meal was coming from.”

“And I understand that now, as I did not then, or I would have refrained from putting it out at all. But it's too late now. For several things. We will simply have to adapt and endure.”

“Endure?”

“I will not leave your side, you may count on that.” He promised. “But that was a special apple. Its tree came from a cutting, taken from a remnant grove in Vanir territory, as part of their peace treaty with us. A sacred tree whose fruits provided the Vanir with ageless warriors. For us, they heal terrible wounds and sickness. But for you, they are known as the Apples of Immortality, and they confer a great gift indeed. But it is not without price.”

You doubled over in pain.

[mythrilhusk]

Despite Everything - Chapter One

NOT RPF (RPF = Real Person Fiction) Genre - Magical Warriors (based off Magical Girl genre) Featured Relationships (only SFW): Niki/Puffy

Niki Nihachu never wanted to be involved with the corporation-funded magical battles sparring in the skies of her home planet, Io. But when she accidentally awakens an ancient evil, she's forced to take responsibility and join an ageless war to save the entire universe.

CW: Death, violence, threats, manipulation

(Ao3 link) Words: 1,874 Next Chapter 

Rain patters on the sky bridges forming webs throughout Io's largest city, Kumo Dome. Niki's boots scrape on the ironwood planks as her bridge sways over the icy void. She strides easily across, used to the motion. 

Above her, in the cold black sky unbrightened by the cold yellow speck of the Sun, several figures glide and dance in a clearly staged battle. Niki scoffs, reaching the highrise at the end of the bridge. Two-hundred stories above the ground, her favorite little cafe seems so peaceful, with icy cyan crystals growing over the railings of the balcony. Niki removes her cape and hands it to the host. "Thank you, Jack." 

"Anything for you." Jack grins and hangs her cape on a hook. "You change your mind at all? We could really use the publicity." 

"I'm not here to talk business." Niki replies, restraining her annoyance. If he were anyone else, she'd give them an earful. 

"Alright, Niki. The usual?" 

"Yes, thank you. Oh, add a few sprinkles to it, I'm celebrating." 

"Oh?" Jack leans across the counter, waggling his brows. 

"I got a new apartment that allows pets." Niki smiles as she sits down. It's not a lie, more of an obfuscation. 

"Awesome." Jack mixes up her drink and scatters unicorn sprinkles over the whipped cream. "This one's on me." 

Niki purses her lips. "I'm still not-"

"I know, I know. I'm just being nice." Jack sets the drink down on her table, then sits down in the opposite chair. 

"I'm expecting a date, actually." Niki tosses her hair teasingly. 

"Ohh? Who?"

"You wouldn't know her." Niki shoos him out of the seat. 

The door's bell chimes and Captain Puffy strides in, her billowing rainbow hair dripping from the rain and her cloak slung uselessly over her arm. Jack smirks at Niki. "You'd be surprised."

"Hey, Jack!" Puffy hops onto the seat Jack vacated and grins at the host. "Get me a bottle of Bloody Vodka." 

"Sure thing, Cap'n." 

Puffy turns her gorgeous smile on Niki. "Hey." 

"Hey." Niki responds dumbly, lost for words. "You're all wet." 

Puffy snorts in a vain attempt to restrain her giggles. "Wow, we're going there already?" 

"I meant the rain, but if you insist." Niki laughs. "Let me buy you a pastry. The donuts here are good." 

Puffy shrugs graciously. "I'll have the salamander crumb one." 

"Oh, that is a good one." 

"Puffy," Jack calls, "Please tell her to join us!" 

Puffy raises an eyebrow at Niki, who blushes and flusters. "Look, Jack, I've told you a thousand times, I will not be your goddamn mascot." 

"Mascot??" Puffy laughs brightly. "Jack, you idiot!"

"What??" Jack cries. "It's not my fault, Niki jumped to conclusions and never gave me the chance to explain!!" 

"Niki, darling." Puffy steeples her fingers and leans on the table. "You don't have to join anything you don't want to. But, that being said, we're kinda shorthanded without the Spirit of Death on our side." 

"What the fuck??" Niki cries, leaping up from her seat. Her heart pounds in her throat; her hands spark with emerald fire. She hastily smothers the flames, stuffing her hands under her arms. "I- I can not be Death, I will not be Death, I don't- I don't want this, why can't you magic bastards leave me alone??" Why today of all days??

Puffy stares at her, taken aback. Jack whistles awkwardly and retreats into the kitchen. "Niki, no, sweetie. You're not Death." 

"Damn right I'm not." Niki snaps. "I don't want to play in your goddamn staged battles, I don't want to fight anyone, I just want to be left alone." 

Puffy raises her hands in surrender. "I'm not asking you to." 

"Good." Niki's hands drop to her side.  

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't realize it was a sore subject." Puffy sighs. "You're not Death. Just the reincarnation of the Spirit of Death." 

"What the hell does that even mean?" Niki cries, curious despite it all. "I'm not a Patron, I'm- I'm barely even a Hex, and I don't want any of this." 

Puffy gives her a sharp smile. "Oh, Niki. There are so many other powers out there." She gestures for Niki to sit down. Niki obeys. "What do you know about your own power?" 

"I- I can heal." Niki raises her hands. Emerald sparks flicker beneath her pale skin. "That's it, though." 

"That's green hex stuff, yep." Puffy covers Niki's shaking hands with hers. "You know Patrons, too, yeah?" 

"Yes, but I am not one." 

"Alright, alright. Spirits are reincarnations of the ancient dragons. Each dragon was a Patron of a different realm of reality. There's six of us right now." Puffy smirks and her eyes alter, mesmerizing Niki with fractals upon fractals of pulsing multicolored flames. "I am Captain Puffy, Spirit of Fire." Her voice crackles with the screams of blazing embers. 

As suddenly as the change had come over her, the normal Puffy returns. Niki laughs breathlessly. "That- that was hot." 

"Literally, yes, I am extremely hot." Puffy giggles.

"There's six of- of the Spirits?" 

"Fire, Ice, Light, Dark, Life, and Death." 

"I'm Light!" Jack calls from the kitchen. 

"Shut up, Jack, she doesn't care!" Puffy snipes back. 

"I'm just saying. She might want to know." Jack grumbles. 

"Puffy, I don't want to be involved." Niki stares at the table, at her trembling hands, at the silver lichtenberg scars on her arms. "I've seen what this power does to people. It- it is not a good thing, this Spirit, and I don't want it." 

"Alright." Puffy shrugs. "Fair warning, though, if you try to use it without being properly prepared, it will be harder to control." 

"I know. I'm not going to use it." Niki sighs, wishing the conversation hadn't turned so dour. "I'm sorry. Can we still have a nice date?" 

"Oh, of course." Puffy smiles and changes the subject. 

They talk till it's almost curfew. Jack cleans up around them, then pulls a seat up to join in the meandering conversation. Finally, Niki stands up and gives Puffy a shallow bow. "Thank you for the enjoyable date." 

Puffy bows back. "Any time, sweetie. I had fun." 

Outside, the rain has cleared and the clouds have parted to reveal Jupiter. The planet's glow bathes the city in orange light. Niki smiles up at the hidden stars. When she concentrates, she can feel them out there, massive gravitational wells of plasma. When she concentrates, it almost seems as though she is a star herself, blazing and powerful and implacable. 

A spark of terror ends the moment; her hands clench and she strides across the bridge, eyes welling with angry tears. She can't even have the stars. Not even today, the anniversary of her death.

The day Niki died started off like any other day. At the time, she hadn't learned to control her healing yet. When the errant lightning spell hit her, her magic reacted as a belated reflex. She was physically dead for a whole ten seconds. Ten seconds too many. 

The officials didn't investigate, but Niki knew the spell was from the staged battle nearby. She tried to sue the corporations who'd hired the Hexes, but nobody would take the case, claiming it was a lost cause. 

Getting more pissed the more she thinks back on it, Niki shoots a glare at the current staged fight on the next highrise over. The idiots just shoot off spells and don't even care who or what they hit, protected by the trillionaires funding them. 

One of the fighters, a cyan Hex, blinks onto the bridge, making it sway and rock. Niki grips the railing. "Fuck you!" 

He barely even glances at her before activating his jetpack to leap back into the air. A fire spell blasts past, narrowly missing the bridge. 

Niki hastily strides for the end of the bridge. She's just past the middle when the bridge tilts sideways, then swings wildly. Niki grips the railing, cursing colorfully. Overhead, laughter mocks her. 

She lets go to flip off the fighters. A fire spell slams into the bridge and knocks her into the abyss.

Niki screams, flailing as wind whips past her. Through the blinding haze of terror, she gathers enough wits to preemptively activate the only spell she knows. Emerald fire consumes her body as she slams into the ground, over two hundred feet below the bridge. 

++++

Hm. Niki? That's a nice name. I'm [redacted]. 

Huh. You're not dead, are you? That's good. If you were dead, you'd be rather less useful. 

Niki, you don't want to die again, do you?

Nobody wants to die, least of all more than once. 

I have a deal for you.

...

That was fast. I haven't even told you what it is yet.

Hm. Okay. You want revenge, that's easy enough. Just heal me and I'll give you your revenge.

Ha... 

....Hahaha....

You idiot. You really did it. You actually freed me! Heh, I guess you can have a reward. 

I'll let you rest in peace. There. Don't get in my way or I will make your eternity very painful. 

It was so nice to meet again, Spirit of Death...

++++

"Niki!!" Puffy's distraught cry shatters through the haze of drowsy distance. 

Niki groans and tries to open her eyes. She feels weightless, disconnected. Her eyes remain stubbornly closed, like she's still dreaming. Magic crackles in her body, desperately working to mitigate the damage and knit her together. 

A spark of foreign magic trickles into her hand. Niki lashes out, snatching the tendril and yanking it away. A furious yell frees itself from her lungs. 

"Wait, sweetie, it's okay!" Puffy blazes in Niki's awareness, a form of flames and crackling lightning. Terrifyingly, hypnotically gorgeous. 

"Are- are you a star?" She opens her eyes and sees Puffy kneeling over her, cutting a stark shadow from Jupiter so far above. 

Puffy hiccups, wiping away her tears. "Niki, I saw you fall and I thought- oh, gods, I thought you were dead!" 

"I was." Niki tries to reassure her, but this only makes Puffy start to cry again. "Puffy, I'm not dead, it's okay!" 

"Are you sure? Are you a ghost?" 

"No, I am not a ghost." Niki sits up with effort and reaches for Puffy's hand. "See? I'm alive." 

Puffy yanks her into a fierce, warm hug. "Don't die ever again." She hisses. "I don't like it." 

Niki laughs brightly, still recovering from the shock of her final few moments. "I will try." 

Puffy continues to embrace her. "We've only known each other for like two weeks, but if anything happened to you, I'd probably have a villain arc." 

Niki extricates herself from the embrace. Puffy looks absolutely magical, covered in grime, tear stains down her cheeks, her eyes and nose puffy from crying. "Thank you for coming." 

Puffy sniffles. "What else would I have done?? You fell from a goddamn bridge, nobody would have found your body for ages!" 

"I think most people would have left me." Niki admits bitterly, recalling her first death. 

"Fuck that, you're my friend." Puffy cries hotly. "Let's get you home." 

Niki rests her head on Puffy's shoulder as she's picked up. "This doesn't mean I'm joining your team." 

"I never said anything about that, sweetie." 

Next Chapter

[buckyjamess-archive]

Hi Sher! Could I please request some fluffy Gwil hc’s? The yearning is real and I need to feel comforted lol—thanks so much ^___^

✨ Headcanon weekend ✨

you absolutly may! haven't thought about dad!gwil in a while..might need to go on that track? 👀

Holidays with Gwilym and your daughter

New years eve

it's just the three of you

In the comfort of your own home

your five year old is convinced she can stay awake till midnight

and gwil and you let her

the table is filled with snacks

your daughter enjoying the fanciest children's champagne out of her disney mug -she hand picked herself-

it's, like always, all about her

she's the one to pick the games to play

the music to listen to

clinks her mug with yours and gwils wine glasses, cheering a 'cheers!' every few minutes

but when the clock strikes 9 and the sugar rush wears off, she's passed out on the couch

you and gwil play a game or two

Talking about the year and what's in the foreseeable future

Gwilym let's you win a game

You let him win a game

it's cozy, it's nice, it's the way you imagined it to be

A few minutes before midnight gwil wakes up your daughter, still sleepy as he picks her up

when the clock strikes midnight the 3 of you stand outside, watching people cheer and fire fireworks

your daughter, still sleepy and on Gwilyms arm, is in awe of the show

you and Gwilym steal a quick kiss, wishing each other a happy New Year before the neighbours stumble toward the 3 of you.

Easter

It's celebrated at your parents

Like always, your parents have outdone themselves

The place is decorated and there's food everywhere

your daughter and her nieces and nephews are seated at the dinning table, painting eggs and munching away at nan her cookies

You're in the kitchen helping your mum

Gwil's outside with the other guys, hiding eggs around the garden

when all is done, the eggs are drying and dinner is in the oven

You hand your five year old her basket before she and all the others storm outside

your daughter relies on gwil the first few minutes but gwil assures her she can do it on her own

she finds the least amount of eggs

But at the end of the day when you're driving back home and she's half asleep

She'll mumble a 'don't worry I'll share the eggs with you and mummy'

Halloween

She's five with a will of her own

and for a second you're reminded she really is a child of gwil

really, you shouldn't be surprised she has her own idea

The princess costume just doesn't cut it anymore

And the days of cute bear or bee costumes are long forgotten

you're both taken back by her boldness but let her find out what she wants

She has trouble picking a costume as the two of you wait patiently in the aisle

She ends up with a superman costumes because

'Just like dad!'

And you swear Gwilym has to swallow hard at that statement

At night you meet up with friends and watch the kids go wild

And once again on your way back home your daughter promises to share her candy with you and Gwilym

She falls asleep halfway on her father's back who offered a piggy back

and it's you who carries her bag of candy

Her superman cape flying around with every gust of air.

Christmas

She's patient, again, like gwil

She's cuddled up between the both of you in bed

Telling stories about nothing and everything at once

Joking around with Gwilym

Making fun of mummy

And tickle fights with her dad

You get downstairs to prepare breakfast while Gwilym stays in bed with his daughter a little longer

you can hear her giggle from where you are and tour heart grows ten time it's size

She nearly flies down the stairs, gwilym hot on her heels, warning her to take it easy

For once you eat breakfast on the couch but your daughter is to busy opening presents to even notice the christmas tree shaped egg you spend some time on

she tells you guys 'I know you guys buy these' and thanks you

there's one gift left under the tree addressed to Gwilym

He slightly curses you since you mutually decided not to buy present for each other anymore

But all air gets knocked out of him when he's met with a black and white ultrasound and a positive pregnancy test

Your daughter by his side within seconds, curious as always

"What is that?"

And gwil would whisper a "you're going to be a big sister."

it takes a while for both of them to process it

He's going to be a dad again and she's going to be a big sister

But when they do; Gwilym nearly knocks you of your feet when he presses his lips against yours

You're daughter yelling 'that's the best present!' In the background

[ghostgothgeek]

Stuck.

Wasn’t planning on posting anything for DannyMay except I realized one of my WIPs literally has the same title as the theme for today, so here we are. 

2.3k. Rated T for swearing. FFN || AO3

On a list of ways Vlad Masters could spend his day, he certainly never had “get stuck in an elevator with Samantha Manson” on it. 

The day had started like any other; there was a ghost convention in town. Ghost hunters from all over the world came to the infamously haunted Amity Park in hopes of seeing a ghost, but seeing the new inventions from the Fentons (who were a big deal in the ghost hunter realm) and sharing their enthusiasm about ghosts with others would be satisfactory enough. (They really hoped to see a ghost, though.)

Jack and Maddie Fenton had dragged their children to the convention this year, happy they didn’t have to travel halfway across the world and their children could join them this time. They wanted Jazz and Danny to experience what they had dedicated their lives to, and to support the presentation of their newest invention. Jazz naturally brought a thick book with her to read, and a notebook for detailing her people watching (and psychoanalysis of said people). Misery loves company, so Danny managed to convince his friends into coming along and keeping an eye out. If a ghost showed up, he wouldn’t exactly be able to transform into Danny Phantom at a convention filled with ghost hunters and all their new weapons. 

Vlad had shown up to keep up with appearances, and to see what pricey new inventions he could buy for Valerie. Surely, Daniel would know how to handle his parents’ weapons, but not weapons made across seas. Most importantly, though, Vlad had shown up for Maddie Fenton. 

Vlad glanced around at all of the new inventions, paying close attention to the specifications of the weapons in case he encountered any as Plasmius. He checked his watch. Only ten minutes until the Fenton’s presentation. He wouldn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to stare at Maddie for an hour and watch Jack make a fool of himself. Vlad smiled to himself as he pressed the button to call the elevator. Maybe if Jack embarrassed them enough, Maddie would finally come running to him instead. 

Meanwhile, Danny and his friends were walking the convention floor. Tucker was occupied with a game on his phone, as usual. Sam was on a mission to find the most dangerous looking weapon, and Danny was just trying to keep an eye on things. Sam excused herself to go to the restroom before the Fentons’ big presentation, telling Danny and Tucker she would meet them there. Once her bladder was empty and her lipstick was reapplied, she headed for the elevator and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited. 

It finally arrived, and Sam started walking towards the inside until she saw Vlad Masters was already occupying the elevator. She contemplated just walking up the five flights of stairs but decided the elevator would be faster and easier. “Why hello, Samantha,” Vlad slyly greeted. She sighed as she stepped inside and turned her back towards Vlad, ignoring him and pressing the elevator button repeatedly in hopes that it would make the elevator move faster. 

The elevator started moving and Sam switched to chipping some of the black paint off her fingernails when all of the sudden, the elevator stopped. It was way too soon to have gone up five floors already. “Uh oh,” she noted and tried pressing the elevator button again with no success. 

“Oh, look what you did.” Vlad groaned irritatedly and pressed the call button. He waited through several rings before accepting the fact that this convention center was severely understaffed. He would have to remember to do something about that. “Well, it was nice seeing one of Daniel’s young friends, but I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat.”

“Hey! At least have the common courtesy to phase me out, too.” Sam glared at him, seeing he was about ready to ditch her when she added, “Just imagine how grateful Mrs. Fenton would be if you saved one of her son’s friends from imminent boredom.” 

Vlad considered the offer, pursing his lips and deciding it would put him in good faith with the Fenton Family if he helped Daniel’s pathetic goth friend. He completely forgot about the fact that he wouldn’t even be able to tell Maddie exactly how he helped the dark child, but that wasn’t important right now. “Very well,” he grabbed her arm and was about to transform into his ghostly counterpart until he noticed a camera built into the corner of the elevator, with the little red light on signaling it was recording and pointing directly at him. He sighed and let her go. He could try to find a way to find the footage and destroy it, but he couldn’t risk getting caught at a ghost convention, of all things. Not to mention, there was likely a ghost shield up.

Sam followed his gaze when he let go of her arm and sighed, “great.” She slid down the elevator wall to sit on the floor, pulling her phone out and texting Danny in hopes he could find some way to get her out. Vlad pulled his phone out as well, and shut his eyes in annoyance as he discovered it was dead. Sam’s phone pinged and she read the message, sighing in defeat and putting her phone back into her pocket. “Danny said they are aware the elevator is stuck and are waiting for the maintenance guy to come back from his lunch break and fix it. It may be awhile.” She adjusted herself on the floor so she was at least remotely comfortable. It could take ten minutes or it could take two hours for them to be rescued. 

After a few minutes of silence, Vlad smirked and spoke up. “Well, since you’re here and are forced to listen, how about we discuss how you can convince Daniel to be on my side and-” 

Sam cut him off and stood up. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Danny will never want to join you! He thinks you’re creepy, which you are. I mean, you want to marry his mom and have him be your child? That’s weird. You’re a grown-ass man, you need to get over this shit already. Mrs. Fenton won’t leave her husband, especially for you. You are a moron to think otherwise.” 

Vlad stared at the girl wide-eyed for a moment before opening his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. 

“Honestly, you’re so pathetic. You hurt and fight with Danny, who is old enough to be your child. Do you really have nothing better to do with your life? Don’t you have anyone else your own age to pick on? Because fixating on a child is just gross. And, you can’t even fight him yourself! No, you choose another child to do it for you. Lame.” She rolled her eyes at him. 

Vlad didn’t know what to say. He was shocked into oblivion. 

“Really, you don’t have anything better to do with your time or money? Do you know how much good you could do if you donated money to charities and organizations benefiting the environment? Instead, you choose to dress up like a vampire and be an asshole. Like Mrs. Fenton or any woman would fall for a guy like that. Plus, your whole vampire look? It’s so corny. Believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of vampire movies and read up enough to know they wouldn’t dress so stupidly. A cape? Really? Are you seven?” 

“I-”

“You really need some hobbies. I mean, what have you even done with your life since you got ghost powers, aside from preying on and manipulating children and trying to grossly seduce a married woman who has zero interest in you? Seriously, get a life. Also, please actually stop with the whole vampire thing, you’re ruining it for me.” She sat down once again and smirked at Vlad’s agape mouth. She had the opportunity, she was going to take it.

“I mean, you aren’t terrifying or gruesome at all,” she continued, “you’re half dead and you aren’t even scary or even vaguely threatening. I’m sure more people are afraid of me than they are of you. I honestly don’t see why some of the ghosts in the Ghost Zone tolerate you; they certainly don’t respect you.” Sam picked at a scab on her arm.

“But...I’m scary! People respect me!” Vlad interjected. 

“People only pretend to respect you because you’re the mayor, and you only won that by cheating. And ghosts don’t give two shits about you, the ghost who released Pariah Dark then fled at any hint of a challenge. Danny had to clean up your mess. Honestly, so pathetic.” Sam shook her head and watched as she flicked her scab across to Vlad, who flinched, and watched fresh blood rise to the injury. “And you are far from scary. My mom is more terrifying. And she’s a small woman who wears pink. Seriously, people see her coming and they move in the opposite direction. Oh gross, I guess that’s one thing I have in common with my mom…” She trailed off and made a face.

“I’ll have you know, Vlad Masters is well respected in the state of Wisconsin and Plasmius is feared in the ghost zone!” 

“Survey says...no.” Sam whipped out her pocket knife from her boot and started carving some doodle into the floor. Vlad stared at the girl with wide eyes. What kind of fourteen-year-old girl carries a knife around to doodle?! “Danny beats you all the time and he’s younger than you. You’ve even been half ghost longer! Danny is less experienced and he still whoops your ass, seriously why are you so cocky?” She pointed the knife at him and he grimaced. “You’re just a pathetic little man-child who throws tantrums when he can’t get what he wants,” she rolled her eyes and finished with a “seriously go fuck yourself”. 

Danny was pacing by the elevator door. It’s been 45 minutes and there’s no telling what Vlad could be doing to Sam in an enclosed space! She didn’t even have many weapons on her. He knows she’s tough and can hold her own but still! Vlad had been looking for every opportunity to get back at Danny, and holding Sam as a hostage would be a very good way of doing so.

“Come on, man he wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull something at a ghost convention,” Tucker started confidently, “er...right?” 

Danny groaned, “I don’t know! I wouldn’t put it past him. God, if he hurts her, I swear-” 

“I got it!” Some random maintenance guy pried open the elevator doors with a crowbar and stuck his arm inside to assist.

“Finally!” Danny ran over to the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Sam scolding the man for touching her. At least she was alive. 

The man quickly backed away and Sam popped her head out of the elevator, which was stuck between floors. “Hey Danny, hold this for a sec,” she tossed him her switchblade, which he fumbled in his hands and miraculously caught without stabbing himself or anyone else, as she climbed out of the elevator. She grabbed her knife and stored it back in her boot. 

“Did he hurt you? Are you hurt? Tell me what he did I’ll-” 

Sam ignored Danny’s questioning and she glared at the maintenance guy who was backing away slowly from her. “‘I got it’ my ass,” she mocked the man, “the only way you were even able to get a crowbar in the gap is because I made you one with my knife.” 

“SAM!” Danny started shaking her, “are you okay?!” He looked at her arm where it was lightly bleeding. “You’re bleeding!”

“Stop. SHAKING. ME!” Sam shook him back until he cut it out. “I’m fine, this is from the other day with the Box Ghost. Vlad didn’t touch me.” 

“Speaking of Vlad, is he still in there?” Tucker glanced back at the elevator. 

After a few moments, out came Vlad Masters, looking as pale as a...well, you know. He was visibly shaken and looked quite disturbed. Once his feet were on solid ground, he took a deep breath and composed himself. When his eyes caught the lavender ones of the goth, he flinched. Sam smirked, while Danny and Tucker each raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you alright, Mayor Masters?” 

“God, Sam, what did you do to him?” Tucker quipped. 

“Nothing! We just had a nice little chat is all…” Sam crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I’m perfectly fine! I kept the child calm while-” Vlad tried explaining himself but with one look at Sam and one look at him, it was pretty clear who was shaken up about the whole thing. She cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to say “try me”. “I, uh, I’m fine. I gotta get going, lots of things to do…goodbye, Daniel. Daniel’s friend...Miss Manson, I’m so glad we came to an understanding-” 

Sam lunged for him and he ran in the opposite direction. Danny gently held her back with one of his arms, “jeeze Sam, and to think I was worried about you in there.” He chuckled.

“You were worried about me?” Sam challenged. 

Danny blushed, “I mean...we both, Tucker and I, worried, you know.” 

Tucker laughed as Danny babbled, “Okay, but really, Sam. What did you do to him? He looks like he’s going to throw up!” 

“Or shit his pants…” Danny added. 

“Or cry…” Tucker continued. 

“Funny,” she said sarcastically. Sam shrugged, “I just talked to him, gave him some of my Sam Manson charm.” 

“Oh god.”

“Poor guy.”