#it could either come across as kinda creepy or really poetic

[greenand-blue]

Chris smells like the forest, woody, earthy, with all the force of an early spring monsoon. Green tea with milk and honey, dirt and sweat and the faint iron of blood from bruised knuckles and scraped knees and busted lips. The clean scent of the hand lotion he uses to desperately soothe the screaming calluses on his palms from climbing everything in sight that he swears is unscented. The quiet understanding and security of a library. Middle shelf liquor and willingly bloodying your knuckles for the ones you love. Spitting blood in the sink at 2am and praying no one sees it. The restless whispers on the wind of “let’s go”. The sharp scent of the middle of the night, right before it snows.

Chris Kratt smells like adventure.

Martin smells like the ocean; salty and sweet and inviting and dangerous all at the same time. Chocolate ice cream and vanilla lattes and a foraged meal in the middle of nowhere. He smells like the grace and patience and protectiveness that can only come with being an eldest sibling, the glue that holds everyone together. Dirt and sweat from the trail, the spray deodorant he only bought because it had a kraken on the label. Clean linen and little bits of everyone else, parts of his family rubbed off onto him from the constant hugs he offers. He smells like it’s his god given right to seize every day he’s given. He smells warm, like hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Watching the sun set over a calm ocean, feeling safe.

Martin Kratt smells like home.

Aviva smells like lavender, fresh and wild. She smells like oil and metal and that fruity body spray she shares with Koki that the two insist on stocking up on whenever they’re in Germany. Black coffee and espresso shots and energy drinks, she smells like too much to do and not enough sleep. Gears turning and a fire burning in her belly, a desperate fight to make sure her hard work will one day pay off and her legacy will be remembered. Constantly striving to be better; a better inventor, a better friend, a better human. The same hand lotion Chris uses, but she is humble enough to admit that it smells like fresh cut grass. Pride and confidence and the skills to back them up.

Aviva Corcovado smells like innovation.

Koki smells like a wood stove, fiery and passionate. The fruity body spray she shares with Aviva, mixed with mocha lattes and the sweat of weightlifting. Hair oil and silken bonnets. The exhaust her computers spew out. Brown liquor and fried food. Hot maple syrup served at a diner with waffles and strawberry lip gloss. The scent of being unafraid to throw a punch when her family is in danger; never starting fights, but always ending them. She smells like getting the last laugh and blackmail and always having something on someone.

Koki smells like family.

Jimmy smells like freshly baked bread, warm and inviting. Hearty meals wafting from the kitchen, welcoming his loved ones inside to rest after a long day. The warmth of a wood stove. Old Spice deodorant and sickly sweet clouds of the best weed, which no one knows who he gets it from and he refuses to tell, but at least he’s willing to share. Stone washed denim and green apple shampoo and new converse sneakers and fearful curiosity. Skateboard decks and scraped knees and Neosporin and band-aids from one too many falls. He smells like talking your way out of a fight, immediately getting help when someone’s hurt. Chocolate covered kettle corn and movie nights and vanilla bean frappchinos.

Jimmy smells like togetherness.

[friendlyneighborhoodborg]

Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 3: Favorite Ship| “Couples Villainy”

Sorry I was later than usual today.  School dragged today.  But I swear, I’m gonna finish this all by Saturday’s deadline.  Even if I have to post days 4-6 on day 7, I will finish on time.

Alright, time for some more loosely-interpreted prompts.  This one, “Favorite Ship.”  Well, I hope it’s obvious by now who I ship Marc with, so today I’ve made the prompt about shipping in general.  This is a thinly-veiled excuse for not really doing the actual requested prompt.

Disclaimers were in Day 1.  And btw, here’s about where that warning about dysphoria comes in, and where I need y’all to tell me if I’m handling it right.

(~2000 words (Holy Crap) in case you care)

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

           The third day of their collaboration was technically the first, being the first day either of them got any work done on the comic.  They had spent the school day texting each other ideas for the story, so that when it came time to meet up in the art room after school, they had completely conflicting concepts of what they wanted to do.

           Especially the villains to use.

           “I still think bringing in Frightingale and Guitar Villain together would be awesome.”

           “Thematically, sure,” Marc argued.  “But think of the power-sets.  They don’t really go together- Frightingale freezes, Guitar Villain makes them dance.”  He scribbled something else down in his notes.  “Consider powers that could play into each other or compliment each other.”

           They sat in the back corner of the room, hunched over one table with their voices low.  Marc had noticed Nathaniel’s classmates come in later, and his friend had introduced them as they did.  Rose and Juleka were on the side of the room, Rose with a little notebook of poetry and Juleka with her bass guitar.  Alix was spray-painting a wall (hopefully with the school’s permission), and the art teacher whose name escaped him watched her warily (suggesting it wasn’t).  More spray cans were stacked near where Juleka was sitting.  Marinette, the only face Marc knew in this club, was absent from the meeting.

           “Such as?” prompted Nath.

           “Well, I can’t actually think of any yet.”  He pursed his lips.  “Dark Cupid and Glaciator?”

           “One breaks up love, one freezes the resultant single people.”  Nathan shook his head.  “You see, that almost sounds kinda gimmicky.”

           “You got a better idea?”

           “We don’t need to pair them up.”  He tore off another sheet from his sketchpad. “Why don’t we let Puppeteer loose in a toy store?  If she finds an action figures section, maybe with the heroes’ figures in it…”

           Marc looked across at him.  “Dude,” he said. “That’s crazy awesome.  But how on earth would the heroes beat her after that?”

           “With the aid of a brand-new, never-before-seen and therefore unfranchised hero.”  Nath grinned smugly.  “See? I can be clever, too.”

           Even Marc had to laugh at that.  “Cool.  But Puppeteer’s pretty powerless on her own, she’d need a way to get her allies right off the bat.  Does Marinette still make those villain dolls?”

           Nathaniel slapped his page in defeat.  “No,” he said.  “I remember now, I asked her that before.”  At Marc’s questioning look, he explained.  “I was trying to work Puppeteer into a different story.  Forget that one then.”

           “Back to our first problem, then.”

           “It occurs, this is kind of how I work normally.”  The redhead chuckled lightly.  “I get too many ideas that I have to thin them out.  Which sucks, cause I think they’re all good, but I don’t want to do them all.”  He waved a hand dismissively.  “So, uh, welcome to my brain, I guess.”

           “Heh.”  Marc bit his lip anxiously.  “I don’t know if you noticed, but your pink friend is standing right there, listening in.”

           Nathaniel rolled his eyes and turned to face the intruder.  “I told you, Rose, I’m not spoiling it.”

           “Come on,” the girl moaned.  “Your stories are so interesting, Nathaniel, I really want to see what you’re working on.”

           “Right now, we’re not working on anything,” Marc pointed out.  “We can’t even decide which villains we want to use in this story.”

           Nath had an idea.  “Why don’t you help?”

           “What?” Rose gasped in delight.  “You want me to help with the story?”

           “Sure.  We can’t agree on anything.  What do you want to see?”

           “Oh, geez,” she gushed.  “This is so cool!  I get to pick the story!”

           “Hey,” piped Marc, looking at his partner. “Are you sure about this?”

           “Couldn’t hurt.  This is just brainstorming, after all.”

           He shrugged.  “Fine.  Rose, you got any ideas?”      

           “I’ve got it!  You should have a couples’ team-up.”  She clapped her hands together and rocked back on her heels.  “Then even the villains can get a romantic subplot.”

           “But…”  Marc scrunched his face.  “As villains?  But they won’t remember anything.”

           “Trust me,” Rose assured.  “I’ve seen it loads of times before.  Nothing brings two people together like a supervillain rampage.”  She sighed dreamily.  “So romantic.”

           “If you say so.”

           “I’m serious!”

           “Rose has a point.”  Alix agreed, finishing a yellowish streak on her wall.  “We know a lot of couples who got together after one of them went butterfly. Rust!”  Without even looking up from tuning her guitar, Juleka threw the requested color over to her.  “Even the first one we had, over a year ago, Stoneheart.  The whole reason he got corrupted was ‘cause he couldn’t spit out his crush and he was getting picked on for it.  Ivan and Mylène have been sickeningly saccharine ever since.”

           “And,” Rose added, “don’t forget, they had their first kiss after Mylène was akumatized.”  

           “ ‘Scuse me,” Marc butt in.  “This is the same Mylène that’s in that play with her dad?”

           “Uh-huh.”

           “She and her boyfriend have been akumatized?”

           “Yep.  Her dad, too.”

           “Cripes.”  Marc surveyed the room.  “You know, there’s a lot of rumors that come from your guys’ class.”

           “We’re aware,” Alix drawled, dropping her current can for a silver can in the row next to her.

           “So?”  Nath waited for his partner’s approval.  “Couples?”

           “Well…”  Marc gave in. “That’s still a better idea than what we’ve got.”  He turned up to Rose again.  “Have anyone in mind?”

           “Do Mylène and Ivan!”  She frowned suddenly.  “Or no, wait, Ondine and Kim!  No, Nino and Alya!”

           Marc blinked.  “You know an awful lot of past akumas.”

           “Well, everyone in our homeroom has been akumatized, so…”  She nodded.  “Yeah, we know a lot.”

           Marc gaped, aghast.  “E-everyone?”

           “Well, all but two.”  Rose suddenly found herself conflicted.  “Oh, no, I’m rooting for them to get together, but I don’t want them to get akumatized…”

           “How have all of you gotten akumatized!?” he exclaimed.  “I’ve heard of your class, I thought you were the ones with the big emotional support thing going on!”

           “Well, that was only after we got akumatized,” Alix explained.  She squinted.  “Whose idea for a word was ‘akumatized?’  That’s such a mouthful.”

           “Okay.”  Exasperated, he threw up his hands. “Seriously, what’s the deal here with your class?”

           “Well.”  Alix slid off her mask and stepped back to appraise her wall.  “You ever met Chloé Bourgeois?”

           Marc tilted his head.  “Once or twice.  Wasn’t she that kinda bratty girl who failed superhero-ing so badly she only got her second chance so she’d stop bragging about it?”

           “Hah!”  Alix shouted. “If only.  No, she’s still bragging about it.  Yellow!”  She held out her hand, waiting for someone to toss it to her, until she realized it was already in the pile at her feet.  “She’s in our homeroom, too.  And she’s been the cause for… oh, I think everyone but Ivan, Max, Lila and Nino.”  She uncapped the can and shook it.  “Like, two-thirds, including the teacher, and not counting people outside our class.”

           “Hang on,” Juleka challenged as Alix widened her yellow streak. “What about you?”

           “I blame her indirectly.  Dark Green!”  She caught it without even looking at her.  “You know, Rose, you didn’t get a girlfriend from your akuma.  In fact, if I recall correctly from the zillion times you’ve told the story, you and Juleka going out had nothing to do with the supervillain drama.”

           “Oh, yeah,” Rose realized.  She thought about this for a moment, looking at Juleka as if appraising the foundation of their relationship.  “Well, not every romance has to start like that, I guess.”  She snapped her fingers.  “Hey, but if you have Princess Fragrance in your big issue,” she leaned across the writers’ table for emphasis.  “I’ve got a request.”

           Nath rolled his eyes.  “Let me guess, you want her to team up with Reflekta?”

           “Heavens no!”  She got back on her feet and lowered her voice.  “Look, Juleka… doesn’t like Reflekta a lot.  I mean, she’s gotten a lot better with making herself more visible, but…”  She glanced back worriedly as Juleka stood up, having heard the conversation up to now. “It’s more out of resentment than anything else.”

           “Resentment?” Marc repeated, confused.  “How so?”

           “Nathan got to weaponize his passion,” Juleka stated.  “Rose was a twisted fairy-tale witch.  Even Sabrina got poetic justice.”  She crossed her arms, scowling to the side.  “I just made people look different, and I was decked-out in fuchsia.”

           Rose nodded, and added for Marc’s benefit, “She… hates fuchsia.”

           “I would have looked killer in red.”

           “Yep.”

           “Or purple, my signature.  Or I could have made pink creepy again.”

           “I know.”  Rose tried holding her arm, attempting to quell Juleka’s escalating tone.  “We know, sweetie.”

           “Just not all three of them.”  She looked behind her, scanning the room.  Marc noticed that the art teacher must have left the area moments ago. Juleka turned back.  “Who’s fucking idea was it to take those colors and think, oh, let’s mix those together, that’s a nice shade.  Let’s put it on this goth girl with heels and a fluffy rubber skirt.”

           Rose winced at the swear.  “She’s still not over it.”

           “I had eyelash jewelry, Rose!  No one can look threatening with eyelash jewelry!”

           “I’m sorry you all have to see this.  I swear, she hasn’t had this rant in months.”

           “I…” Juleka looked back at the sound of the door opening and saw the art teacher come back.  She lowered her voice to a grumble.  “I mean, everyone got some awesome dark side alter ego, and I didn’t.”  She started walking back to her bass.  “I got the absolute bottom of the barrel.”

           Everyone was still looking at Juleka after her outburst, so no one was looking at Marc.

           Marc’s face was a deathly pale.

           Words she had used flew through his head, replaying over and over and over.

           ‘Fuchsia.’

           ‘Heels.’

           ‘Fluffy Skirt.’

           ‘Eyelash Jewelry.’

           ‘Reflekta.’

           ‘Made people look different.’

           “That was you?” Marc squeaked, slamming a hand over his mouth.

           Rose looked at Marc strangely.  “Are you alright, Marc?”  

           “I…”  He tried to come up with an excuse.  “Excuse me.”

           He kept his head down as he escaped the classroom, choking down something threatening to come up from his stomach.

           He kept his head down walking into the washrooms, struggling to bring his breathing back under control and calm his anxiety.

           He only brought his head up to look at himself in the mirror.

           ‘Ugh, not him again.’

           It was that feeling again.  The one he didn’t have the right words for.  The one that came on fast and strong, but left soon after.

           He thought he knew what it was before, but he had been wrong.

           Someone opened a stall behind him.  Fine, let him look at the creep glaring at himself in the—

           “Marc?” Marinette called out, voice laced with worry. “W-What are you doing here?”

           Marc’s eyes widened in horror.  “I—” he stammered, clutching his journal like a lifeline. “I’m sorry, I’m in the wrong—”  He gave up trying to speak and he bolted.

           And he ran out of the girls’ washroom and back outside into the courtyard.

           And he fought down the pangs of hurt that told him no, he wasn’t in the wrong place.

           And he didn’t stop until he was back at the art room.

           “And anyway, he hasn’t been akumatized yet, but wouldn’t it be sweet if the Gamer went to him and—”  Rose stopped her rambling when Marc re-entered, two events which were to Nath’s relief.  “Oh, Marc, you’re back!” she chirped.

           “Is something wrong?” Nathan asked.

           “Yeah, I’m fine.”  Marc’s eyes widened and he corrected himself.  “I mean, no, nothing’s wrong.  Let’s uh…”  He tried to remember what the conversation was.  “Let’s do Rose’s first idea.  Her and Juleka, but not with R—” he gulped, too many emotions cluttering up that name for him to mention safely.  He managed to choke “Reflekta” out, and he hoped no one understood.

           “Uh… sure.”  Nath shrugged.  “I’ve never tried making an akuma before.”

           “Oooh,” Rose agreed.  “That’s an even better idea.  Let us know if you need help.”

           Rose left to rejoin her girlfriend, and Marc meekly took his seat again, shakily opening his journal.

           As Nathaniel started doodling up concepts, Marc sat across from him, doing nothing except idly rubbing his hands together.

           His hands.

           His arms.  His neck.  His chest.  His legs.  His face.

           His him.

           Why did it all suddenly make him want to scream?

Okay, this is the most rushed chapter yet, especially for being so long.

In this, I’m trying to write Marc as genderfluid (like Hope Morphin, the person he was based off of), but I’ve found during research that fluidity itself has a pretty loose definition, so I just picked one I thought would work.  I’d like to hear some feedback over if I’m doing something insensitive or offensive; this fic is still being edited, there’s still time for me to change things.

Also, I’ve started cross-posting this to AO3, under the username “BenignCyborg”.  I know Tumblr has a character limit for comments, so if you have something longer you can go there.

[janiedean]

Pick whatever you like- fighting/practising/exercising together leading to smut. Also any overused cliche trope that every ship has: fake dating, mild jealousy which leads to hilarious situation, etc. Colleen introduces him to pop culture that he missed (bonus if it's GoT for obvious reasons). Smut? :D You could write anything for that ship and I'd read it lol. And no hurry I'm glad someone's even asking for prompts

you said ‘the two of them watch GoT.’ I comply. starting with crack is always a good idea. HOPEFULLY IT’S DECENT if not forgive me I’m still getting the feel of the characters but the next one should be better xD

--

“And we should watch this... why?”

Colleen is suddenly quite sad that her phone is charging in the next room over, because the expression he pulled deserved to be saved for posterity and she could have taken a picture, but that’s sadly not going to happen - she doubts he’d hold it for thirty seconds.

“You look more perplexed than I’d have thought.”

“... Game of Thrones? It just sounds stupid. How do you play anything with a throne?”

She snorts as she turns on the DVD player. “Well, you said you wanted to catch up with pop culture before we leave, and this is the rage these days.”

“Bloody and ambitiously epic... it’s addictive... once you start, Thrones dominates your life?” He reads from the back cover of the DVD as she puts the first one in the player. “Seriously?”

“What can I do, everyone loves some bloody drama.”

He says nothing as she fiddles with the settings and whatnot, and she’s almost ready to go with the first episode when he clears his throat.

“So... wait a moment, this bloody drama is some fantasy stuff in a world with weird season where people fight over some throne while they should be worried about... the mysterious darkness beyond? Sounds ridiculous, but all right. I guess.”

“Hey, if you like it and we end up marathoning it, we should be done just in time before we leave.”

“... You mean, people spend an entire day watching television?”

“Some people spend the entire day meditating.”

He laughs, putting the case away. “Fine, you’ve got a point. I guess we’re giving these... thrones a try. I’m skeptical, though.”

“We shall see,” she says, lying back on the sofa and pressing play. The opening titles have started by the time she’s leaned against his side, his arm wrapping around her shoulder, and -

“Skeptical? You’re humming the damned theme song.”

He stops at once, his cheeks going slightly red. “It’s - it’s catchy?”

She has to laugh a bit at that, but never mind that. She’s only watched the first two seasons but she remembers why the show in general was catchy. She’s sure he’s going to reconsider.

--

By the time episode five rolls by, he hasn’t told her to just quit this and do something more interesting - they did stop to get something to snack on, but they’re apparently going onwards.

“Sorry,” Danny says as the episode five credits roll by, “are seriously all of these people worried about a throne when they have... zombies just outside their borders?”

“You know, people not seeing immediate danger because they worry about their interests, shouldn’t be news to either of us.”

“Okay, point taken, but - it’s ridiculous. The people at the - the Wall place are obviously the only ones who aren’t complete idiots.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, because you see anyone else being smart about that?”

“Wait for season two.” If Danny doesn’t appreciate the greatness that is Brienne of Tarth she’ll be sorely disappointed, but she thinks he will.

“I’ll trust your judgment,” he says, and nothing happens until -

“Huh,” Colleen says, staring at the screen. She hadn’t realized, but -

But.

She turns towards Danny. Then towards the screen. Then towards Danny again.

“... Something wrong?” He asks.

“Well, not really, but... Loras, uh, he kinda looks like you?”

Okay, she was wrong before. This is the face that should have been immortalized in a picture, not the one Danny pulled before.

“Come on,” Danny says, “no way.”

“You have the same nose.”

“We have not,” Danny says, sounding absolutely outraged at the prospect. “Like... no! Never mind that he’s a lot younger than I am anyway -”

“You also kind of have the same eyes. And face shape. And -”

“I don’t know where you’re seeing it.”

“I don’t know how you’re not.” It’s almost creepy - they could be twins.

“Oh, I’m settling this,” Danny says, grabbing his phone from the side of the couch. He types something quickly before hitting send. Colleen takes it from him and he doesn’t try to stop her from doing it, so she figures it wasn’t private information or anything of the kind. She looks at the conversation, and -

Shit, he really sent Ward a message reading Colleen thinks I look exactly like this Loras guy in Game of Thrones and I’m sure I don’t, please tell me I’m right. Well, at least it’s... nice that they’re on good terms, she decides. Considering that meanwhile Loras has just finished blowing Renly while discussing how they should play the damned game of thrones, this entire thing is just getting extra weird.

Anyway, the next five minutes go by without interruption, and then the phone vibrates. Colleen takes it before Danny reaches for it.

“Just read it,” he sighs, and now he has his head on her shoulder, not the contrary.

“Hm, well, you do look like him a bit, maybe not exactly, but like, the face and the hair. Not the personality, if she meant that. Hell, no, I didn’t. Also - are you two actually watching Game of Thrones, hell, yes. Wait, I’ll reply, you just pay attention to the rest.”

“At least he’s objective.”

Colleen wants to laugh - as if, Ward’s about the least objective person she’s met in a very long time, but if that’s what Danny likes to think. She replies with yes, what’s so weird about it anyway, and I just meant the face, not the rest, and sends it over.

Loras shows up on screen and gives Sansa the flower. Danny looks frankly disturbed. The phone vibrates again.

I don’t know if I want to know how he’s reacting to it.

Colleen replies before Danny can snatch the phone back from her and do it himself, but he grabs it just after.

“Well, he has a crush on Jon Snow? The hell - it’s not that I have a crush, he’s objectively the best character!”

“... At least you aren’t alone thinking that.”

“Hey, you should appreciate someone who sacrifices their life for the better of -”

“Please, wax poetical about his hair instead.”

“His hair?”

Good thing that the phone vibrates before she can go into that particular piece of pop subculture.

“Oh, he agrees!”

What? If there’s one thing she wouldn’t have expected from Ward was the guy actually liking Jon Snow, but never mind. The texts actually reads then there’s some hope for him yet, he has more than decent taste.

What the -

Sorry, do you actually like Jon Snow, Colleen texts back. Danny’s head has somehow ended on her thigh and her fingers find their way into his hair. Okay, fine, maybe he looks like Loras but his hair is definitely superior to Loras’s, Colleen thinks and doesn’t say.

Ward’s reply arrives when they’re almost done with episode five.

Why shouldn’t I, the reply reads. Objectively the best character. By the way, does that mean you’re halfway through season one?

Yeah, why?

There’s no reply for a while and so Colleen forgets the phone and keeps on running her fingers through Danny’s hair instead, and she almost jumps on the sofa when it vibrates.

That obviously means Danny takes it rather than her.

“What does he say?”

“Oh, that this episode is apparently very good. He’s right, it’s definitely better than the one before if you ask me.”

Right, Colleen thinks, but... Jon Snow isn’t in it?, she realizes a moment later. Why the hell would the guy recommend them this one if the character they were discussing isn’t even showing up?

Whatever. She’ll worry about watching the damned thing instead.

--

“What the hell,” Danny shouts when poor Ned gets arrested.

Colleen keeps her comments about good-hearted people trusting others too much to herself.

--

“I need a break,” Danny says the moment Ned loses his head, and - right. Nine episodes in a row of this show maybe can be excessive. He’s also obviously trying not to cry, so Colleen just stops the show and puts the remote away.

“You know,” she says, “I think about most of the people who watched this ended up crying or something. No one’s judging you.”

“It’s just - it’s unfair,” Danny blurts out, wiping at his eyes. “And people are crazy into a thing that’s so miserable?”

“It gets worse,” Colleen shrugs - better warn him now.

“Worse.”

“So I’m told, I only watched up until season two.”

A moment later, Danny grabs the phone.

Does this really get worse?, he texts Ward.

Guess why, the reply for this one arrives a minute later. Did Ned just die or what.

“Why does he know?”

“Everyone knows,” Colleen says, and Danny tells her to just go on with it. She does.

--

“The finale wasn’t half as depressing,” Danny says almost in relief as the three baby dragons shriek and the camera pans out.

Colleen doesn’t tell him that two seasons from now, from what she knows, he might not agree. “I’m worried, though - the people going across the Wall aren’t turning into zombies, are they?”

“Uh, they hadn’t last I checked,” she replies truthfully.

She doesn’t even stop him from texting Ward.

We’re done and I guess we’re going on tomorrow, the text reads. And then - If you want to drop by or anything please do.

How is Danny so nice, she doesn’t even begin to guess.

“Shit,” he says, “I’m beat. Are we seriously spending five days on the couch? I'm going for a five hours run after that.”

“Well, we can move to the bed if you don’t mind that.”

That’s when the phone vibrates, but that’s also when Danny’s hands move around her back and she hooks a leg around his waist. She glances at the screen, reads Ah, wasn’t Robb’s coronation a great scene and decides that she’s going to ponder why Ward’s not mentioning anything related to his supposedly favorite character tomorrow, or anyway, a hell of a long time later.

For now, she has more interesting things to do, she decides as her mouth slots against Danny’s.

Maybe they can go to bed later.

Epilogue

Colleen’s cellphone rings as they’re a bit past the middle of season two.

Has S2 killed Danny’s spirits or what?

She snorts as she watches Danny murmur under his breath that Robb’s new girlfriend is absolutely insufferable.

No, she replies. Then adds, but he might have gone to check something on the internet and now he’s sad that apparently everyone hates Theon because his struggle was somehow relatable and he didn’t deserve his crappy father or something.

She sends it. Then adds, ah, and he’s glad Jon’s finally ran into a girl who likes him.

She doesn’t have to wait for long for the next reply, which is -

When he’s done moping, you can tell him he has excellent taste in characters.

Okay, sure thing -

Jon Snow, I mean, arrives separately a moment later.

Well, she hadn’t assumed he was talking about anyone else, but all right. She informs Danny, who mutters something about Ward also having excellent tastes before dropping his head on her thigh again and voicing his relief that at least they haven’t seen Loras in ages and he doesn’t have to feel creeped out by his face anymore. Or something like that.

If anything, he did admit without a problem that Brienne was awesome, so -

Colleen’s definitely not going to be sorely disappointed by his choices anytime soon.

End.