#yeah all her hats have slots for her horns...

[valka]

002: 「blackbosom」

[the-irken-luxray]

Hellooo because I forgot about the whiteboard until like midnight of the expiration date I didn’t get the chance to gather final screenshots so many of people’s additions didn’t make the final post. These are all the most recent versions of the drawings I could find (and in some cases I had to edit them together)

Featuring additions from @/kursed-curtain, @/flowerbarrel-art, and numerous others (feel free to brag in the notes if you see yourselves!)

[ID 1: a bust of Jenny Coffield, a stick figure oc with short, wavy hair, a top hat adorned with multiple spheres, and a burn scar on her head, showing off a “top bomb”, a top hat shaped object with a fuse sticking out the top. Tagline text reads “it explodes in the shape of a top hat”. Around the bomb are golden sparkles and captions reading “SO COOL!”, “WOW!”, and “FUN SHAPE!!”. Below the bomb is a diagram comparing a standard cartoon bomb, captioned in red with “LAME” and an X mark, with the top bomb, captioned in green with “COOL”. To the left of Jenny is three Toppats sitting around a meeting table. Two Toppats look impressed, one saying “wow!” and the other saying “We should use that”. The third Toppat looks annoyed and says “This is a stupid meeting.” End ID]

This one is probably my fav out of the bunch, just for the collaboration aspect.

[ID 2: a full body doodle of Reginald Copperbottom grinning evilly while holding a gun. Blue text reads “autism be damned my boy can kill”. A small doodle of someone’s Toppat sona or OC fawns over Reginald with multiple floating hearts. They have a bullet behind them with a red trail mark, as though they were shot with Reginald’s gun. Adjacent is a generic stick figure who is getting shot in the head. Text pointing to the stick figure reads “the cringe”. Yellow writing reads “ding dong the wicked cringe is dead”. End ID.]

At least one Reginald is mandatory. People got silly with this one.

[ID 3: a mouthless stick figure looks confused and mildly uncomfortable while looking at the viewer. Text next to them reads “my darling”, “precious blorbo”, and “beloved”. Below the text is a blob with eyes and no mouth in a happy expression, with writing reading “blorbo!” The stick figure is holding up a sign that says “I am literally just text????” End ID.]

Okay yeah you should know who this is by now

Gave them a Wile E. Coyote type sign because it fits the whole “no mouth can’t speak” type thing they’ve got going on.

[ID 4: a doodle of Jenny’s head with text reading “Your Toppat weapon ideas HERE!” Below is a drawing of Pike Cassino, a stick figure with a top hat decorated with slot machine wheels and horns, a gold tooth, and whiskery facial hair. a speech bubble pointing to him reads “Maybe a gun that doesn’t blast me back when I fire it…” Below the prompt text is a doodle of a glittering, gold cannon labeled “solid gold cannon”. Next to it is Jenny looking annoyed with a thought bubble reading “At least I’m paid well”. End ID.]

There were a LOT more additions to this prompt than I ended up grabbing, but with how spread out they were, there would be an additional five screenshots or so just to get them all.

[ID 5: a bust of Jenny waving an aromantic flag with a caption reading “aro gang”. Next to her is a drawing of a character labeled Harley, who has a heart shaped top hat and bangs, with a Toppat clan logo on their jacket and a paw on their hand. Harley waves to Jenny and is captioned with “aro gang!” End ID.]

Another that is sadly a lot smaller than its final version. The aro gang used to be bigger.

[ID 6: 3 images of a doodle of Ellie Rose. First image is of a head shot of Ellie. Second image is text reading “world’s smallest Ellie” with an arrow pointing to an indistinguishable doodle. Third image is the previous doodle zoomed in to show a very small head shot of Ellie, approximately the size of the tip of the arrow. End ID.]

World’s smallest Ellie.

[ID 7: A whiteboardfox drawing with a thick border around it, as though it’s an external image that’s been copy-pasted. The drawing is of Burt Curtis, a stick figure with headphones and a top hat, stylized. Here he has messy, wavy, short hair and highlights in his eyes. He’s reading a magazine titled “#3 ACTion”. To the left is a frog-with-glasses icon with text reading “gotta get sillier with my art”.

To the right of the copy-pasted drawing is a frog with glasses on his hands and knees, with the glasses lenses opaque to hide his eyes. Text below reads “just found out my drawing didn’t save can’t have shit on whiteboard”. End ID.]

Yeah so I was… struggling with this one. The frog in the top left was originally a thing I tried to add to ALL my additions up make them easier to find. But because of WiFi issues, not only did none of them save, but half my Burt drawing was gone too. Fortunately, because I was already struggling bad with it, I had the foresight to screenshot the drawing once I was done with it.

[ID 8: a doodle of Reginald Copperbottom with his hands on his hips while smoking a giant blunt. To the right is a drawing of Reginald in the family guy death pose with a caption above reading “bad at smokign” [sic]. Below the whole thing is text in parentheses reading “(whiteboard if you’re gonna react my art please for the love of god let it be this one)”. End ID.]

Drawn immediately after the previous one. No further context needed.

[notdogice]

Well, it's been about a year since I started showing off my Pony Town cos' so I guess I should show off some more. This time we're delving into my Dragon Ball cos'! There aren't too many of them, but they have a few neat little techniques I used to create them.

First off we have Goku! He was one of the first few DB cos' I did and he has changed quite a bit from when I first made him. I had a hard time figuring out how to do his hair, but the latest update to the selection of manes Pony Town provides helped immensely. Besides the hair, I enjoyed making his shoes. The rest was pretty easy to figure out.

Of course I had to make a super saiyan Goku! ... This is the only transformation I have for him though. Funnily enough, the hair was much easier to do, and it also uses the hat slot to add onto the hair trick. I did struggle a bit with coloring the hair at first, but making the outline lighter than the hair does a great job at making it glow.

Next we have Yamcha! He was rather straightforward to make, and the most notable things to point out are his clothes and, again, shoes. It's mostly just using the outlines to add more detail, but I like how easy it was to do it.

Puar!!!!! Yeah they revamped the customizable plushies that you can equip and Puar was an obvious choice to do as my first plushie cos.

Launch, but I was inspired to make her whilst watching one of the Harmony Gold movie dubs that had popped up on youtube a while back. You'd think she'd be an easy one to do, but I had a hard time deciding which mane to use and uh those pants were absolutely hard to work with. Other than that, it was an easy enough one to do.

I had a fun time making Korin, and this is one of the very few characters that I've had to use the beard options for. I had used one of the skirt options to make him more round as well. Also, you may have noticed that I've made the outlines a gradient. I've pretty much done this for all of my DB cos', but it's a much more notable feature for Korin compared to the others.

I love Raditz, but hot damn he doesn't translate well into Pony Town. Like the legs and tail are easy enough, but his armor and hair were hell. It's mostly the hair, but I had to use a hat, ear ring, and both front and side horn options to make it work. The armor was easier, but it was a puzzle for sure.

Vegeta was the first DB cos I made. He was easy. Uh, I actually used one of the face patterns to extend his widow's peak, and I also used the grass color to hide one of his hair spikes. There's a reason for that.

Yup. I don't have much to add. He has a horn and antlers now.

One of my favourite cos' I've done, and it's Frieza of all people. His head was a joy to figure out. I used the mask option for the lower half of his face so that I could have his facial markings be present, and I used one of the beards to make that white outline. For his head, I used a top hat to create the outline, and there's a horn I used to add to the shading of his forehead. I'm very proud of how he turned out.

The Namekian frog is my favourite DB character, so I, of course, made a cos of the frog. Okay so I once saw a person who made a frog using a method like the one that I used that I have never seen anyone do ever before or since when I saw them. Like I tried looking up a tutorial for this type of frog head and I couldn't find it, so I feel like it was something that that person had figured out for themselves. Like I've seen people do the headphone eyes thing, but never in combination with the mask for a frog. Other than that, a very easy cos to make.

It's bingus time. Beerus' ears are my favourite thing about this cos. It combines the tall side horns and the big pointed ears to make his iconic big ears. It's difficult to see here, but I had used one of the ponytails to make the ear more round just by a few pixels. For his shawl, I used the cape and the neck tie together to make it.

And that's it for the Dragon Ball Pony Town cos' I have. I might make more in the future, but I can't say for sure.

[hockeyboysiguess]

three french horns -> three goal horns | n. mackinnon

a/n: and like clockwork, here is fic number three in my 12 days of christmas series! i wrote this one a while ago and i hurt myself re-reading it to proof it, so i hope you all like it! rest of the christmas series linked here.

word count:  4,037

warnings: alcohol, drinking 

“Hey, Nate?” you called out from the living room when you heard the back door open, signaling his reappearance in the house after letting the dogs outside. 

“Yeah, baby?” he asked as he stomped his boots on the mat, shaking the last bit of the early Denver snow off. 

You asked the question you’d been asking him since two weeks after his birthday, the same question you’d been asking a variation of for the three months before his birthday. “Nate, what do you want for Christmas?” 

The sound that left Nate’s mouth was barely human, a groan coming from deep within, from the place that never knew what he wanted for any major gift giving holiday of any kind. You tried to be original, get sentimental things, but it was hard to buy for someone who could literally buy anything they ever wanted. Nate didn’t have big, expensive wishes, so if he wanted something, he often just bought it on the spot and you were none-the-wiser until it showed up at his house. This penchant, this bad habit, carried throughout the holiday season; it was a perpetual state of being for Nathan MacKinnon. This meant that items Nate ordered for himself were as likely to show up December 24th as any other day of the year, which was eternally infuriating as a person in his life trying to buy him gifts on the semi-regular basis. 

“I don’t know,” he answered you, like he did every other time. “I’ll like it because it’s from you.” 

That response was sweet the first, second, and half-sweet the third time he’d used it on you. Now, that response was worn out like an old pair of jeans, with holes in the thighs and the knees hanging together by a thread, absolutely unusable at this point in time really. Yet Nate continued to say it, like that string of seven words didn’t light a fire in your stomach completely unlike the kind crackling under the stockings on the mantle right now. 

“Nate,” you groaned, all too similarly to how he had when you asked your question. Spend enough time with a person and you pick up their habits. You and Nate were a completely unoriginal example of that. “You know I hate when you say that.” 

Nate rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Well, I don’t really know. A hat trick? But you can’t get me that, I’ve got to get that for me.” 

The infamous illusive hat trick. While it wasn’t those dreaded seven words, you were pretty sure you had heard about this hat trick that was alluding him every other day at this point. In all fairness to Nate, the amount of times he had scored twice in the first two periods of a game this season and been held off the scoreboard in the second was absurd. Commentators were joking about it, his teammates were chirping him over not one, not two, but three missed empty netters that would’ve sealed it, even though Nate liked to say those didn’t really count as hat tricks. Greater than all of that, Nate was starting to incredibly frustrated with himself and his performances. You knew Nate was a competitive guy before you even went on your first date with him, but his competitiveness ran deep and honestly you weren’t sure your relationship would work if you were even an ounce more competitive than you were. Nate had to win, he had to achieve his goals. This goal was quite simply just three goals, but it continued to be just out of reach this season and coming up on the holiday season, pushing the halfway mark, Nate was starting to think it might not happen this year. 

“You’ll get one, Nate,” you sighed. “You’re so close and you’re too good not to get whatever you put your mind to.” 

“I got a good feeling about the game tomorrow,” he replied, sliding up next to you on the couch to throw a Christmas sweater-covered arm around your shoulders. “My good luck charm is going to be there, right?” 

Nate wasn’t superstitious in the slightest, but he said he always scored more whenever you came. Statistically, a complete lie, but it made you feel special all the same. He kissed your temple softly as he relaxed into the couch cushions next to you. 

“So, what are we watching? Classic or trashy Christmas?” 

That question itself somehow encapsulated every single reason you loved Nathan MacKinnon, despite his pension for buying his own Christmas presents, his overly competitive nature, and the difficulty that came with trying to buy him a present. Nate didn’t love Christmas movies; he wasn’t a hater like some people you’d dated before, but you adored them, both classic and trashy alike. Nate jumped on board with whatever you liked, no questions asked. He always said you didn’t sign up to date all of his teammates that walked through the door scrounging for homemade food or the long hours alone, the least he could do was be as supportive of the things you liked as you were about hockey for him. Nate’s support came in casual, steady waves of constantly and consistently showing up, no matter how tired he was, no matter how long the day before had been. He might fall asleep twenty minutes into the movie, but Nate was here and active and present for as long as he could stay awake. He’d cross deserts and move mountains for an hour with you, and some days that’s what it took, but Nate showed up and jumped on board, which made him the easiest person in the world to love in spite of everything else. It made him the only person you wanted to spend this Christmas and every other one in the future with.

The next day, with his last name on your back and a Santa hat on your head, you found yourself in a position that felt all too familiar this season. You were watching the ice with eager eyes among the other wives and girlfriends. Your breath caught in your throat halfway through the first when you saw two seconds after him that there was nothing between Nate and the net but open ice and a goaltender. You slowly stood up, leaning forward as if those all important inches would help you see the ice better. You didn’t miss the puck sailing over the blocker’s side of the goaltender, or the eruption of cheers from everyone around you as the goal horn rang out, hopefully the first of three for Nate this evening. Mel hugged you, as if you had anything to do with Nate scoring. You adjusted your hat, pulling at the fluffy white edge until it sat a little less haphazardly on your head as you cheered. 

“Two more, right?” Mel waggled her eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes. 

“For my sake, I hope so,” you laughed. 

Going into Christmas break without this elusive hat trick meant the next four days would be spent with Nate’s mind half at the rink, trying to scheme and plan and game his way into a hat trick, as if the part he was missing was anything other than luck. Maybe he didn’t need regular luck though, maybe just a little bit of Christmas would do the trick tonight. Your third beer in, a vain attempt to calm your nerves with alcohol, and five minutes into the second, on the power play, you watched as Nate easily sailed in his second goal of the game from the high slot, causing the ever familiar cheers and the ringing of the Avalanche goal horn to sound out across the arena. 

Two down, and hopefully one to go. 

“Hatty watch,” one of the other girls sang out from behind you, giving your shoulders a squeeze. 

You let out a loud, long breath, causing a wave of laughter to ripple across the other women around you. Mel teased you about it; they all did. Nate’s quest was well known among the group, something they were equally supportive and teasing about. 

“He’ll get one,” Mel assured you with a comforting pat to your leg. “He’s too good not to.”

You really thought he had it. You watched as Mikko and Nate peeled off from the defenders caught on an odd change, leading to a two-on-one with a lone opposing forward doing his best, but poor, impersonation of a defensemen. Mikko passed the puck to Nate, which Nate passed back easily and set himself up for the perfect slap shot on the return. The quick passing had sent the other team’s player sprawling over the ice. It was just Nate and the goaltender, who was frantically shifting his eyes from Mikko to Nate, tilting back and forth on the ice. Mikko’s pass was perfect, right on the middle of Nate’s tape and Nate was ready for the pass. It was tracking high glove side, exactly where Nate wanted it to go, right into the back of the net. The goalie was facing Mikko, two key seconds behind the actual action. Except out of nowhere, the Grinch stole Christmas and Nate’s hat trick when the goalie’s glove suddenly appeared in the path the puck was taking and wrapped around the puck, just on the wrong side of the goal line for Nate. 

The referee blew the whistle and signaled no goal. Nate’s hands dropped down, stick hanging low. His head tilted up toward the ceiling of the arena and you could practically hear the groan rise from deep in his chest. It was absolute robbery at its finest and the entire arena knew luck wasn’t on Nate’s side that night. You slumped down into your seat, preparing yourself for yet another two goal game and a frustrated Nate waiting for you in the tunnel when it was over. There were another twenty minutes left in the game, but if the first half of the season had taught you anything, third periods weren’t where Nate racked up anything other than wins and assists, both of which he loved, but he just wanted a third goal, just once. Mikko and Gabe each having one already this season, all six goals involving Nate as either the primary or secondary assist, didn’t help either. 

“I think you need to pray or something,” Mel told you with a laugh. “Pray to anything and anyone out there at this point.”

You cleared your throat and looked up at the ceiling of the Pepsi arena, “Santa, I know this isn’t how you take requests,” Mel and the girls around you were already laughing, “but please, pretty freaking please, can we just get some Christmas miracle magic vibes in here? It’s all he wants for Christmas. Please and thank you and I hope you have a Merry Christmas.” 

“Are you supposed to say amen if you pray to Santa?” someone behind you asked. 

“Look I’m not opposed to it,” you sighed. “It just didn’t feel like the right ending when I was asking for a Christmas miracle.”

The girls all laughed and you just stared up at the ceiling. Maybe Santa might grant your unorthodox request delivered via an even more unorthodox method. Maybe you should’ve written him a letter and dropped it into one of those charity red mailboxes at Macy’s. Maybe Nate just wouldn’t be getting the one thing he wanted for Christmas and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. You knew he was joking when he asked for a hat trick for Christmas, but joking or not, it was the only thing he even sort of mentioned wanting. If sending out a Christmas wish audibly in the middle of the Pepsi arena was what it took, you were more than happy to do it. 

You grabbed your fourth and fifth beer together during the intermission, knowing full and well that you didn’t want to miss a second of one of Nate’s shifts in case something good happened. If after all of this time, all of this waiting, all of Nate’s back and forth debating, if you missed his hat trick goal because you were grabbing another beer, you would have to guess that higher powers didn’t exist and the hockey gods loved laughing at you and maybe Christmas wasn’t that magical after all. 

The third period was half over when you finished your fourth beer. Your right leg had been bouncing on the concrete since the period started. Nate was getting some good looks, and added another assist to his point tally for the night, but you and everyone knew what he actually wanted tonight. A slashing call with eight minutes to go put the Avalanche back on the power play, and you knew Nate was going to fight to play every bit of those two minutes he could get, which meant you were about to be in for a mentally exhausting two minutes. Mel offered her hand to you, already knowing you would need her to ground you through this. 

The first shot on the power play from Mikko ended up in the opposing goaltender’s glove. Nate lined up for the next face-off and you swore you didn’t breathe as soon as the puck left the referee's hand. Nate swept it back easily to a waiting Gabe. You gripped Mel’s hand hard, grateful you both did this for each other often enough that she didn’t mind. Nate slid up through the low slot and you saw the stars aligning as Gabe sent the puck perfectly in Nate’s direction. Nate was already ready for it when it came, the puck on his stick for less than a second. Your eyes went wide and you felt like you were about to break Mel’s hand as the goaltender shrugged his shoulder up to block Nate’s shot, but he came up short and the puck hit the back of the net. 

You were screaming as you jumped to your feet, arms wrapping tightly around Mel as someone else hugged you from behind, again like you’d done anything other than practically give yourself a heart attack watching it. Nate was surrounded by his teammates on the ice, earning a swift pat on the top of the head from Gabe. A glance up at the Jumbotron showed you the wide, bright smile on his face, filling with relief and absolute joy. Mel grabbed your hat by the pom pom and chucked it down towards the ice, making you laugh and a smile that rivaled Nate’s come across your face.

“Finally,” you breathed out a sigh of relief as the arena calmed itself, calming you with it. 

You plopped back down into your seat, hatless with half a beer and your pride in Nate left to coast you through the next ten minutes. You knew Nate was going to be in a good mood, and you just wanted to get through the next ten minutes of the game to get to him and congratulate him yourself. The score was heavy in favor of the Avs and they weren’t in any danger of losing this game, so you got to drink your beer and let out a long breath you’d been holding since Nate first came home after back to back two goal games in October without a hat trick in sight. 

You were practically bouncing on your heels as you waited in the tunnel for him, fingers fussing with the frayed edge of your denim jacket to get out some of your anxious energy. The second he rounded the corner, a wide, gorgeous smile on his face, you ran toward him. Nate wasn’t the type for large public displays of affection, but satisfaction from your incredibly competitive boyfriend was a hell of an influencer and he opened his arms wide for you. You jumped into him and he stumbled a second before catching you easily, one hand guiding your legs around his waist, the other supporting the back of your thighs. 

“Congratulations,” you mumbled in his ear as he laughed at your openly shared excitement for him. 

“Thanks, baby,” he told you, the smile he was wearing evident in his voice.

“Proud of you always,” you reminded him as you untucked your head from his neck. 

You said it after every single game, win or lose, five points or no points, goal or no goal, you told Nate you were proud of him after every single game. The stats sheet didn’t matter to you. You loved him and you saw the grueling work he put in every single day, every single second he was on the ice. You were proud of him no matter what, and it was one of the thousands of reasons he had come to love you for. Your support, your pride in him and the work he put in never wavered. It was steadfast, something hard to come by in a life as crazy as he lived. You were his rock, his home, and he felt it like the gradual, comforting warmth from sitting by the fire on Christmas Eve, when the world seemed a little more good than it actually was, when you told him you were proud of him. 

Nate smiled as he pressed a soft, quick kiss to your lips before gently guiding your feet back to the ground. He pulled you in tighter, collapsing you into him as he let out a long breath that had been holding his tension for months, caught in the hollows of his chest, finally working its way out into the open air. It had been haunting him, like a ghastly Halloween hangover that dared to last until Christmas. Thankfully, it was December now and Nate felt lighter and freer than he had in months. 

“You got what you wanted for Christmas,” you mumbled into his chest, causing his chest to vibrate with laughter. 

“Guess I sort of did, yeah.” He kissed the top of your head softly. “Ready to go home?” 

“Ready for four days of you and me time?” you teased him a little. 

Despite your teasing, his response was entirely genuine, “Been looking forward to it for weeks now.” 

Your smile in response to his words stuck with you the entire way home. Nate loved you in actions, but sometimes it was nice to hear words from him as well. You kicked off your shoes at the front door, just in the knick of time before the dogs could come and greet you both. 

“Want me to crack a bottle of wine or champagne?” you asked Nate as he dropped his bag by the front door. 

“Champagne,” he told you before dropping a kiss to your temple. “We’re celebrating tonight.” 

You slid into the kitchen, dogs hot on your heels, as you made a beeline for the champagne in the fridge. You’d slid it in before you left for the game on the chance Nate finally got his hat trick tonight. You hadn’t wanted to drink warm champagne if that was the case and now, holding the cold bottle of champagne and two flutes, you knew you had made the right decision betting on your boyfriend tonight. He rounded the corner into the kitchen a few moments later, game day suit still on, jacket and tie lost back in your shared bedroom.

“Glad you got yourself what you wanted for Christmas, Nate,” you smiled teasingly at him as you started to fuss with the gold foil over the champagne cork. 

“Before you pop that,” he told you, reaching a hand out to place over yours as you worked on the foil covering the cork, “I, um, I have something for you.” 

“Nate, it’s December twenty-third,” you sighed, setting the bottle down on the cool stone counter. “Can’t it wait a couple of days?” 

Nate smiled softly at you, a smile that seemed to mean he knew more than you in this exact moment, “I’ve actually been holding on to this gift for a long time and I think tonight is the perfect night to give it to you. Are you okay if I blow up Christmas a little bit?” 

You sighed again and gave Nate a stern look up and down, but the softness in his blue eyes and the innocence in his lazy smile pulled you in and had you nodding in approval. Your nod caused nerves to dance in Nate’s eyes and his hands to slide into his pockets, fidgeting with their contents. He shifted softly from one foot to the other. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment to watch his feet move before he slowly lifted his head back up in time with a bounce on his heels. 

“Okay, here we go,” he mumbled softly to himself. 

He cleared his throat before speaking, “I told you I don’t know what I want for Christmas. Hell, I told you that I didn’t know what I wanted for my birthday and that was back in September. The truth is I’ve known what I’ve actually wanted the whole time. The hat trick was nice and all, but it wasn’t really what I wanted.”

“Whatever it is, you could’ve told me,” you chided him a little. 

Your words were met with an anxious smile and more shuffling of his feet across the floor. He shook his head softly and let out a tight breath before continuing. 

“The only thing I want for Christmas is something you can give me, but you can get it for me,” he told you softly, his voice shaking as he spoke, the nerves in his eyes and his feet and his hands tightening and constricting his voice resonating in his chest. 

Nate slowly pulled a hand out of his pocket before purposefully, and painstakingly slowly, dropping down on one knee in front of you. Your hands flew over your mouth on instinct and your eyes clouded over instantly. Nate smiled softly at your reaction, trying desperately not to let what he hoped your actions meant take over and make him too hopeful of your answer to his question to prevent him from asking it. He carefully opened the small black box in his hand to show you your early Christmas present, a beautiful ring nestled among the black velvet inside. 

“For Christmas, I’d like for you to say you’ll be my wife,” he continued slowly and as steadily as he could. “The thing I’m most proud of, of everything I’ve ever done, is being your partner. I love you so much more than I say, but I hope I show it enough that you want to sign up for me forever because it’s just you. It’s just you forever, for every single day, every single holiday, every single moment. I want to spend every single Christmas for the rest of my life with you. So, what do you say? Will you be my wife? Will you make my Christmas wish come true?” 

The cliches hung thick in his words, but the emotions behind them, the sentiment was so true you could feel it in the very core of who you were. Nathan MacKinnon saw you, faults and gifts and everything in between and loved you in the steadiest, most true way you had ever known. In the light of the Christmas tree, in the home you built together, with the life you build together palatable around you, Nate was asking you to build the rest of it together. You didn’t have to think about your answer. 

“Yes, Nate. Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

Nerves gave way to relief which even more quickly gave way to joy on Nate’s face as he slowly slid the ring he’d had tucked in the back drawer for months onto your finger where it belonged. Nate let out a long breath at the sight of it finally on your hand before slowly standing up in front of you, his hands reaching out to cup your face gingerly. 

“Best early Christmas present ever,” you told him with a wide smile on your face. 

He smiled back just as widely and happily as you grinned at him, “Merry Christmas, my future wife.”

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: G

Summary: Kagami and Nino plan a surprise party for Adrien's seventeenth birthday. With help from their friends, nothing can go wrong this time. Nino's even invited an extra special guest who's sure to make Adrien's night. (Nino & Kagami & Adrien friendship, with a side of Ladrien)

Word Count:  3101 | Chapter 1/3

Notes: written for @marinetteplztakeabreak through the @mlbforblm charity drive!  The donations go directly to Color of Change, an online organization for racial justice centered on the Black Lives Matter movement.  I highly recommend checking them out and reblogging/donating the mlbforblm posts if you’re able!  I have one fic slot left as of 7/23/2020, and many other talented writers and artists are offering incentives as well!  There’s even a giveaway going on; see the mlbforblm blog for more info!

XXX

“Hmm.”  Kagami’s brow furrowed as she stared at Nino’s Operation: Totally Swank Party binder.  The two of them sat on a bench in the park, where she had agreed to meet him after slipping away from her fencing lesson.  “Bribing the bodyguard is a proven technique.  Get me a list of action figures his collection is missing, and I’ll have them by tomorrow.”

“Way ahead of you, dude.”  Nino tore a piece of notebook paper out.  He’d done his research last night after a long phone call with Adrien.  “Glad I can count on you.”

“Of course.”  She neatly folded the paper and slipped it into her jacket pocket.  “I’ll have them shipped to your apartment.  Do you have a plan to dispose of his babysitter?”

Nino sighed and flipped to the page with a doodle of Nathalie with horns at the top.  It was a much more tentative outline than what he’d prepared to deal with the Gorilla.  Hopefully Kagami would be able to help him with that.

“Nathalie’s whole job is to suck out all the fun in my bro’s life.  We’ll never be able to throw this party with her in the picture.”

He’d tried the past three years.  From Hawkmoth transforming him into the Bubbler, to Nathalie locking him in a closet, to Gabe himself nearly arresting him for trespassing, each had been a total bust.  At this point Adrien probably wasn’t expecting Nino to try.

But Adrien was his best bro.  Nino would never give up on throwing him the most poppin’ party ever.  

Plus, this year, he had a secret weapon.  One that even Kagami didn’t know about.

“You seem quite prepared.”  Kagami squinted at the page.  “You’re sure Max can play his part?  The Agrestes use my mother’s security technology.”

“Positive.  He and Markov can hack anything.”  

Max had already wired into the speaker system last time they threw a party for Adrien.  Of course, on Adrien’s birthday, the mansion would be too obvious a target.  That’s why the plan just required getting his bro out of the house altogether.

“I’ll trust you, then.  What exactly is my role?”

Nino grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder.  “You, my good bro, will be sneaking Adrien away from his fake fencing lessons.  Adrien says you’ve done it a thousand times, and his pops still barely knows who you are.  You’ve got like, some kind of invisibility superpower.”

“I simply have practice.  That’s all.”  She took his pen and began making notes in his binder.  “Nathalie will realize we’re gone approximately forty-five minutes after we leave.  The Gorilla has set patrol routes for finding Adrien when he goes missing, which I can map out for you.”

“If he takes the bribes, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Kagami was already sketching out a map of the city on a clean sheet of paper.  Geez, how did she remember all that?  He doubted he could even draw the path from his apartment to Alya’s.

“I don’t want to take any chances.  We cannot fail Adrien.  Do you have a venue reserved already?”

“Huh?”  Nino scratched under his hat.  Kagami was pretty rad, but it was hard to follow her train of thought sometimes.  “Oh, right! I was thinking the hotel.  Now that Chloé’s not a total jerk—”

“No.  Too obvious.  Nathalie will find us within the hour.”  Kagami frowned and tapped the pen against the back of her hand.  “The ice rink will be our best option.  It’s out of his bodyguard’s patrol zone, and it can accommodate all of Adrien’s friends.  We hid there all the time when we were dating, and no one ever found us.”

“Sure, sure, there’s just one problem.”  He grinned nervously and tapped his fingers together.  “I, uh, don’t know how to skate.”

Kagami tilted her head and.  “Really?  No matter.  His birthday is twenty-one days away.  You have plenty of time to learn.”

Over her shoulder, he watched her write “Teach Nino to ice skate” in her crisp print.

“Uhh… well, I guess that works.”  Hopefully everyone else knew how to skate already, or they could just enjoy the food and cake from the seats surrounding the rink. Nino could technically do that too, but he didn’t want to miss hanging out on the ice with his best bro.

“I’ve seen you parkour with Alya.  You seem like you’ll learn quickly.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”  Nino chuckled.  “Just get ready to watch me starfish out there.”

Her lips pursed thoughtfully.  “If it proves too difficult for you, I can try to find a backup location.  I doubt one exists that will fit everyone you’ve listed, though.”  She flipped back to the guest list, which included all of their classmates from the last few years, Adrien’s whole fencing team, and a few other friends like Luka and XY.  Pretty much everyone Adrien had ever interacted with was on the list.

Except for one special guest, but Nino had left her out on purpose.

“No, no, it’ll be fine!  I’m just joking, dude.”

“Oh.”  Her face pinked a bit.  “How are we going to deliver the invitations without alerting Nathalie or Adrien’s father?

“I’ve started planning that too.”  Nino flipped forward a few pages.  “The most important guests—ones who aren’t gonna snitch on us—will get their invites a week in advance.  The rest will get theirs by text on the day of.  If they can’t come, they can’t come.”  It was the best solution he’d been able to come up with.  He was sure that even if people did have plans, most would drop them for a chance to party with Adrien Agreste.

“Hmm.  It still feels too obvious.  The fencing team in particular may give us up.”  She frowned before scratching a few names off the list.  Well, she was on the team herself; she would know better than anyone who could be trusted.  “You’re right though.  This does seem like the best plan.”

Nino grinned.  One nice thing about Kagami was that when she gave a compliment, he knew it was sincere.  If she agreed with his birthday plan, then it was as close to foolproof as it could be.

“Sweet.  I think that covers everything for now.”

“A very productive planning session.”  Kagami nodded before holding out her fist.

Nino laughed and bumped knuckles with her.  After a year of hanging out with him and his bro, Kagami was finally getting the hang of fist bumps.

“Meet me at the ice rink at eighteen hundred on Saturday.  We’ll begin your lessons then.”

She closed the binder and handed it back to him, then stood and walked away.

“Skating lessons with Kagami, huh…” 

This was either going to be a legit time, or he was going to make a total idiot of himself.

XXX

“Come on, Nino, you’ve got this!”  Alya called encouragement as she and Marinette lapped him again.  He frowned at their backs.  How was it that even Marinette, certified clumsiest girl in Paris, could be a better skater than him?

“Focus, Nino.”  Kagami snapped her fingers.  She stayed near him, slowing her pace even though she could’ve skated rings around him.  “Your girlfriend’s praise will only become reality if you practice proper technique.  Keep your weight centered.”

“Right, right.”  He pushed off from the handrail and tried not to flap his arms.  This time, he made it a solid twenty seconds before he slipped and went skidding across the ice.  His hat slid off in the opposite direction, but Kagami quickly retrieved it.

“Don’t try to go so fast.  Catching up to Marinette and Alya isn’t your goal.”  Kagami’s advice was blunt, but helpful.  Nino didn’t mind her getting to the point.  He knew his skating needed work, and no matter how many times he fell, she didn’t lose patience with him.

It was nice that Alya was so far ahead, honestly.  It meant she didn’t see him look like a total dorkasaurus every time he fell.

I’m doing this for Adrien, he reminded himself each time.  He didn’t need to be a pro skater.  He just needed to be able to stay upright.

“You make it look so easy.”  He frowned as Kagami glided backwards.

“I’ve been skating since I was six.  It makes a relaxing hobby.”

He snorted.  “How is anything about this relaxing?”

“Hmm.  Perhaps you’re thinking too hard.  It makes you hesitate, place your weight incorrectly.  You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“Huh?  Yeah, you know I’m DJ-ing for the party.” He had no clue why Kagami was asking, though.

“Skating has a rhythm.  Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable timing your strides with music.”

He tapped his chin.  “Y’know… that’s not a half bad idea.”

“Not half bad?  Does that mean only half is good?”

“No, no, the whole idea’s good!  It’s just an expression.”

He slipped his headphones over his ears and picked one of the slowest songs on his playlist.  It was a waltz in ¾ time; hopefully that wouldn’t trip him up.

“Alright, here goes.”

He took a deep breath and pushed off from the wall.

One-two-three, one-two-three.  The music was smooth as the ice under his skates.  Kagami kept pace with him, smiling as he counted the beats under his breath.

Something about it did feel different.  Maybe it was that he stopped overthinking; maybe it was just the magic of music.  Either way, he went the whole six-minute song without falling on his butt.

“Not half bad.”  Kagami smiled.  “...Did I use that right?”

“Heck yeah, dude.”  They fistbumped.

“Way to go Nino!”  Marinette gave him a high five as she and Alya caught up.

“Thanks for teaching my boyfriend, Kagami.  I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing, Alya.”  Kagami’s cheeks turned red.  “We’re all working together to ensure Adrien’s birthday is perfect.  Teaching Nino is just one step in that plan.”

“Well, I still think it’s really cool of you.  Oh!  And speaking of the party, my mom says she can cater.  I’ve already sworn her to secrecy.”

“Awesome!  What about you, Marinette?” Nino took his headphones off to better hear the conversation, but his legs still knew what to do.  “Are you gonna get Adrien a totally rad birthday cake or what?”

“Yeah, absolutely!”  She nodded.  “I’ll just have to drop it off before the party.”

“You’re still sure you can't come, girl?”  Alya asked her.

“No, sorry.  I promise I would if I could, but I—I’ve already made a commitment.  But I’ll have the cake here on time, I swear!”

“And one of his fifty birthday presents, right?”  She nudged Marinette with her elbow.  Marinette nearly fell, but Nino wasn’t sure if that was from Alya’s bump or her words.

“I—I don’t have those anymore!”  Her shoulders slumped.  “It turns out, planning presents fifty years in advance works a lot better if you can see the future.  They’re all out of style by now.”

Alya laughed at that.  Nino couldn’t help noticing that Kagami had gone silent, though, her gaze locked on the ice in front of them.

“Something wrong, bro?”  He asked her.

She shook her head.  “Adrien’s party won’t be perfect if Marinette isn’t present.  I thought she of all people would understand how much she means to him.”

Marinette gasped.  “I… I’m sorry, Kagami.  Adrien does mean the world to me, and… I promise, I’ll make it up to him.”

Nino was forced to stop as Kagami grabbed the handrail and locked eyes with Marinette.  Some kind of silent conversation seemed to pass between them.  He looked to Alya for help, but she just shrugged.  By now he thought he’d understand the girls, but maybe some things would always be a mystery.

“See that you do.  He deserves that much.”

This wasn’t some kind of love triangle over Adrien again, was it?  Kagami had stayed good friends with all of them after she and Adrien broke up.  Marinette was probably still crazy in love with him, but that was nothing new.

“It’s okay, dudes.  The party’s still going to be perfect.  I’ve got a special surprise planned for our favorite bro.”

He winked at Alya, who grinned back.  She’d been the one to help him pull it off.

“A surprise?”  Marinette clapped her hands together at the same time Kagami raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t factor any surprises into our plans.  Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“It’s not much of a surprise if everyone knows, is it?”  Nino said.  “But you’re right, I should have told you, Kagami.  I just wasn’t sure if it would be awkward for you, knowing who Adrien’s crushing on now and all…”

“It’s not an issue.  Adrien is a wonderful friend.  That is more than enough for me,” Kagami replied.

“Adrien’s... crushing on someone?”  Marinette asked, her eyes wide.  

Oops.  Kagami might have taken it well, but Nino should’ve waited until Marinette was gone.

“What’s the scoop, babe?”  Alya raised her eyebrow, and Nino threw his hands in the air.

“I thought you already knew!  Why do you think we worked so hard to get Ladybug to show up for his party?”

Marinette caught hold of the hand rail before her legs slipped out from under her.

“Adrien has a crush on Ladybug?”

“Oh.  That’s all?”  Kagami asked.  “I’ve known that for months.”

“You have?”  

“Was it supposed to be a secret?  He keeps posters of her in his fencing locker.”

Marinette still looked like she was blue screening.  Alya glared at Nino, and he gave a nervous smile.  What was he supposed to do?  Kagami had a point; the dude wasn’t exactly subtle.  

“Anyway.”  He coughed.  “Our bro likes Ladybug, and she’s coming to his party, so he’s going to have a totally cash money time.”

“Cash money?  You’ve been hanging out with Luka and XY too much, babe.”

Marinette giggled at that.  She got her feet back under her, and they started skating in unison again.  So… she wasn’t that upset?  Whew.

“Oh, speaking of XY, I gotta get him here to help set up the special effects,” Nino said.  “I already got permission from Phillipe.  We’re going all out, courtesy of the actual cash money Kitty Section and XY’s last collab made.”

“How did we end up friends with so many rich people?”  Alya mused under her breath.

“It sounds like the plan is in motion, then,” Kagami said.

“Yeah, it’s going to be perfect!  Adrien will love it.”  Marinette grinned.  “Thank you two for putting all this together.”

“Anything for my best bro.”  Nino shot her finger guns.

“He deserves a party worthy of his friendship,” Kagami added.

And he was going to get one.  This year, of all years, Nino refused to let anything go wrong.

XXX

Three weeks later, on the night of September twenty-first, Nino paced the blue chairs surrounding the perimeter of the ice rink.  His friends wove between the chairs, setting up tables of food and games.  His turntables were already in place at the head of the rink, and XY was hooking them up to the speaker system.

“Nathalie’s schedule?”  Nino asked as he passed Max.

“Hacked and adjusted.”  Max flashed a thumbs up.  

“Great job, dude.”  He clapped him on the shoulder before moving on to Rose and Juleka’s station.

“Presents?”

“Stacked and organized!”  Rose saluted.

“Sweet.  Make sure to leave some extra space, there’ll be more where those came from.”  He continued his path to where Chloé was lounging in a chair and scrolling through her phone.

“Chloé, status report.”

“No trace of Adrikins on Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, or YouTube.”  She flipped her ponytail.  “You should check your tone, though.  I’m not some peon you can just order around.”

“Right.”  He rolled his eyes.  Classic Chloé.  At least she was taking her job seriously, though.  “Thanks for all your hard work.”

“You’re welcome.”  She smirked.

Her job was one of the most important.  If the media caught wind of Adrien’s location, the party would have to split before he even got here.  To prevent that, Max had jammed the wifi and cell service so that only his computer, Chloé’s phone, and Nino’s phone had wifi.  If anyone wanted to post about the party on social media, they’d have to wait until after it was over.

Everything was looking perfect.  There wasn’t much else to do but wait for updates from Kagami.

19:00.  Arrived at the court.  No sign of Adrien.

19:04. Adrien has arrived.  Bodyguard bribed and driving away.

19:05. En route to ice rink.  Adrien was suspicious, but believed my excuse of buying him birthday orange juice.

Nino shook his head with a smile.  How did Kagami type all that without Adrien noticing?  At least everything seemed to going smoothly on her end, too.

He started pacing again.  According to Kagami, a casual stroll from the school to the ice rink took twenty minutes.  It was longer than Nino wanted to wait, but the location had to be far enough away to avoid notice.

His phone beeped again.  He unlocked it to see a selfie of Kagami and Adrien smiling wide, though Adrien was practically unrecognizable in the oversized hoodie and bright blue wig Kagami had borrowed from Juleka.

Alya’s chin rested on Nino’s shoulder.  “Aww, look at them.  All grown up and ready to rebel.”

“Psh, Kagami’s been rebelling for ages.  Adrien could still learn a thing or two from her.”

“Oh look, she sent another one!”  Alya clicked his phone.

In this photo, the two of them were pulling funny faces.  Adrien stuck out his tongue, while Kagami puffed out her cheeks and gave him bunny ears.

Nino laughed and put an arm around his girlfriend.  “We did a great job with them, didn’t we?”

“Absolutely.”  She smiled before zooming in on the background.  “Looks like they’re in front of the parking lot.  They’ll be here any time now.”

Sure enough, Kagami texted, 19:25. Two minutes away.

“Right!”  Nino gave her cheek a quick kiss before running to his turntables.  He snatched up the microphone, and his voice blasted through the speakers.  “Alright, dudes!  Adrien’s about to walk through those doors, so everyone hide!”

Their friends dove behind tables and chairs.  All of them except XY, anyway.

“What’s the point, dude?  He’s gonna see all our sick lights.”  XY pointed to the laser lights next to the turntable.

“That’s why we switch them off,” Luka said, pressing the button.  The rink fell into darkness.

“Ohhhh.”

Nino pulled the two of them under the table with him just before the double doors opened.

[gloomshrike]

Au Ra Aria

Taknark stepped off of the shuttle onto the stone landing, stretching his arms out as he looked down the long queue outside Kugane customs. He sighed, throwing the strap on his duffel over his shoulder and lighting a cigarette as he joined the line. He patted his coat several times, making sure the letter was still safe in the inside pocket.

“Sir, you can’t smoke here.”

Taknark looked over at the hingan attendant, who pointed at the ground while maintaining a stern glare in his direction.

“It’s outside.” Taknark said, as thin puffs of smoke escaped his lungs with the protest.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s no smoking on the landing.” The attendant snapped her fingers. 

Taknark shrugged, and flicked the cherry to the ground. He closed his hand around the field-stripped butt and let it roll into his coat sleeve before opening his hand with a flourish to show the attendant it had disappeared. He wiggled his fingers mockingly and gave a dry “Ta-da.” The attendant rolled her eyes and left.

Taknark patted his coat again, and felt the letter safe and secure. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck as he waited in the queue. When he finally got to the booth, he handed his papers over. 

“John Johnson?”

Taknark looked through the smudged glass at the inquisitive man in the booth.

“Midlander. On my dad’s side.”

“Right.”

The man stamped Taknark’s papers and passed them back through the slot. He placed them in his coat pocket, and gave it another pat, finding the letter safe and secure. The attendant opened the gate out of the landing, and ‘John Johnson’ passed through with a lazy wave. 

Taknark walked out into Kugane and beelined it for a nearby bench. He placed his duffel on the ground, sat down, and looked around, peeling his sharp eyes for any trace of a No Smoking sign. Absent of one, he let the half-smoked cigarette roll back out of his sleeve and set it alight. He patted his coat pocket again for the letter, finding it safe and secure.

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Taknark walked out of the Kugane night into the bar. The door closed behind him, and the walls cut the noise and bustle of Kogane Dori to nothingness. He glanced through the window to the markets as the people moved silently past. The air inside was still and, for a change, so was Taknark’s mind. The bar was empty save for a few patrons one drink past ‘one more couldn’t hurt’. He made his way to the bar, motioning to the bartender without taking a seat. The bartender walked over, polishing a glass as he went.

“Do you do bottle service?” Taknark asked.

The bartender nodded. “Only sake.”

“How about fish?”

The bartender stopped polishing for just a moment, then resumed. “Sure. Fifth room on the left.”

Taknark nodded, leaving a gil on the counter as he left. He turned down the VIP hall, counting the doors on the left in his head, until the giggling and jovialities behind the paper walls faded by the silent fifth door. He slid it open, and sat on the floor was an old lalafell wearing a hingan robe. On the floor next to him was a conical straw hat and an opened bottle of whiskey, the first quarter of which had already rosied the cheeks of the old-timer. The lalafell looked up, and a surprised expression waxed across his handlebar mustache.

“Taknark!”

Taknark put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion as he slid the door closed behind him. “It’s John, actually. Don’t remember me, Cage?”

Cage hiccuped, pouring a glass of whiskey for Taknark and one more for himself. “Of course. John. How could I not remember? You look just like John.” The old lala couldn’t help but let out a few amused snorts as he slid the drink over.

Taknark took his seat across from Cage and reached into his jacket, producing the letter. He passed it to the old lala, took a sip of the scotch, and winced. “Tastes like Doma’s been free longer than this has aged.”

Cage unfolded the letter, downed the rest of his drink, and shrugged. “Cop salary. What’re ya gonna do.” He looked down at the letter, and in a barely-legible scrawl, read:

I’m all outta fish.

Cage sighed. “Well at least he’s talkin’ to somebody.”

Taknark raised an eyebrow. “He hasn’t been in contact?”

Cage shook his head, and poured another glass. “Nope. The man’s a ghost. Dunno why you came straight here, though. I can think of someone you should’ve asked first.”

Taknark sighed. “Yeah, but I’d rather leave that option for when all the others fail.”

“You and Vyl have a falling out?”

Taknark shook his head. “Not as such. But Vyl’s not the kinda guy you notify when he has something you want.”

Cage let out a chuckle as he took another sip of his drink. “True enough. Look, I don’t have anything concrete, but in your shoes I’d check the Steppe.”

“The Steppe?”

Cage nodded. “He’s half-xaela. Taken as a kid by the empire and trained as a conscript in Othard. He used to talk about getting homesick sometimes.”

“Shit.” Taknark leaned back, resting on his palms. “That’s quite a trip.”

Cage nodded in reply, topping off Taknark’s drink. “One for the road?”

“Might as well. Road just got a lot longer.”

Cage lifted his glass. “To fish.”

Taknark lifted his in turn. “To the long road.”

The glasses clinked and the pair took a drink. Taknark pulled out his cigarette packet, bumping one out and lighting it, letting the smoke wash over the dry taste of cheap whiskey.

“You can’t smoke in here, John.”

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The next few days passed with an agonizing dawdle. It was an unremarkable week of constant rain over the Ruby Sea, gales of wind over the plains of Othard, and a series of innkeepers unenthused with the soaking wet highlander showing up on their doorstep. By the last night of his trip, Taknark found himself convinced that in addition to hosting his quarry, the Steppe may be the only place left in Doma he was allowed to smoke.

At last, the morning after another fatigued, sleepless night, he found himself in the Azim Steppe. He walked through the bazaar in reunion, doing whatever one could call window shopping along a series of tents and yurts. He asked a few of the locals where to find information, and after some pointing and awkward charades with his Questir hosts, he was finally directed to a covered yurt with two xaela standing watch outside. They stood at least 80 ilms tall, with grim faces, large black horns, and armor adorned in the bones of Steppe tigers they’d likely killed themselves. Taknark scratched the back of his head and approached the yurt, expecting no shortage of difficulty getting in.

To his surprise, the warriors left their spears upright, and each placed a hand on the entrance curtain. “Am I expected?” Taknark asked. The guards answered with only a stare, their grim faces unmoving. Taknark shrugged and entered the tent.

It was dark, with only small sunrays being let through gaps in the tent’s construction. An ornate rug covered the floor, upon which sat an elderly xaela, with wrinkled, green skin and the enamel fading from his black horns. He sat in front of a circular tray with an overturned cup in the middle of it. The tent was hazed over with the smoke from the curved pipe the xaela puffed on, looking up at Taknark.

“Gods be good.” Taknark muttered, producing a cigarette from his coat and lighting it. He took a long drag, and looked down at the elderly man before him. “The trademasters told me this is where to go for information.”

The elder took another puff from his pipe. “Liar.” He said, with the ragged voice one would expect from an aging smoker. 

“Excuse me?” Taknark replied, bewildered.

“The trademasters are Qestir. They tell nothing, to anyone. They believe to speak is to lie, and you’ve barged into my tent to testify on their creed’s behalf.” The old man let out a chuckle.

Taknark sighed. “Semantics. I was directed here. Can you help me or not?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.I read a tapestry I cannot change. How could I? How could you? We are but tiny stitchings in that selfsame weave. Help may not be the right word. Are you sure I cannot interest you in semantics?” The old xaela let out another raspy giggle.

“Not today.” Taknark replied, exhaling another cloud of smoke. “I’m looking for someone.”

With a quick motion, the elder snatched up the cup, covered it and shook it, and let a handful of dried bones fall onto the tray.

“Ohhh. A beloved child.” The elder gave a whimsical whistle. “Both Father and Mother for an Au Ra. A true rarity.”

Taknark’s eyes widened. “So you know him?”

The elder sighed. “No, but the bones do. The weave does. Nhaama knows her son.”

Taknark sighed. “You’re not a broker, you’re a fortune teller.”

The elder narrowed his eyes at the bones. “No lies here.”

“No truths, either. Just riddles and magic tricks. I shouldn’t have come here.” Taknark turned to leave the tent.

“You did not choose to come in here. It was the will of Nhaama. Or perhaps, the Will of Karash.”

Taknark stopped and turned around. “You’re a Qerel, aren’t you? Isn’t the Will of Karash a boon of bloodlust for your tribe?”

“Ohohoho, you’re awfully knowledgeable.” The elder remarked with a grin.

“I’m well-traveled.”

The elder picked up the bones and rattled them lazily in the cup as he took another puff from his pipe. “Not exactly. The Chaghan are those who lose themselves to the Will of Karash. They slaughter indiscriminately, and lose themselves to hate.”

Taknark took another drag. “And why would the Will of Karash bring me out here to bicker with you?”

“Heeeeehehehehehe,” the old man wheezed another smoky laugh. “What would drive you to do what you do if not bloodlust and hate?”

“Money.” Taknark answered, dryly. 

“Hehehehe, simpler to open a fish stand. You could make money, and find your friend.”

Taknark’s jaw went slightly agape, nearly letting the cigarette tumble to the ground. “So you do know him?”

The elder slammed the cup down on the tray, lifting it up and looking at the bones. “Yanxia, traveler. Back the way you came. Where chains are broken and fisheater’s fly.”

“Could you be a little more specific?” Taknark asked with a sigh.

“Hehehe, no, traveler. I’ve seen nary of the outside of this tent in a decade. I only know what the bones tell me.” The elder giggled again.

Taknark turned and placed a hand on the entrance flap to the tent. “Thanks for the help.” He said, and exited. After he’d gone, one of the Qerel guards put his head into the tent, finding the elder’s head bowed and his hands folded together. 

“Is everything alright?”

“I am praying to Nhaama, child.”

“For the ijin?”

“For her. No mother should outlive her child.”

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Taknark stood on the cliff overlooking the Gensui Chain, in the middle of the cemetery above The Heron’s Way. He smoked a cigarette, and stood over the crumpled butts of a few already smoked. The fading sunset illuminated the slate gravestone.

Khaishan Ittetsu

“Didn’t make it all the way home, I guess.” Taknark remarked, taking a long drag from the cigarette. “They coulda put something on your stone, though. Maybe a fish, or a sword. A swordfish would have worked nicely, now that I think about it.”

Taknark heard the distinct sound of a slider being racked. “Put ‘em up, Taknark.”

The highlander raised his hands slowly, the smoke drifting off of the cigarette burning in his hand. He turned his head to see a small group of men, plainly dressed and brandishing a firearm each. Seven, he thought to himself.

“You’re a hard man to find, Bryrsig.” The voice called out to Taknark from the rear of the group. “How’s Bozja treatin’ you?”

Taknark didn’t move. “Well enough. Better than Othard nowadays.”

The man moved from behind one of his gunmen, training his own pistol on Taknark’s back. Taknark could feel his gaze drilling into him from behind a pair of cheap sunglasses. “You didn’t give my money to the resistance, did you?” He asked, gritting his teeth.

Taknark sighed. “Two rules, Vepar. No people, no bioweapons. You think I wouldn’t find a case of Black Rose at the bottom of a barrel of spice?”

“You take the money, you do the job!” Vepar yelled. “Where is it?!”

“The Rose? Destroyed it, ‘bout as soon as I found it.”

“Great. An arms smuggler with a conscience.”

“What’s a conscience?”

“Shut it!” Vepar gripped his pistol and snarled. “Turn around. If I can’t recoup my losses I’ll take your fucking head instead.”

Taknark did as he was told, turning around with his hands still raised. “Did you kill Khaishan?”

Vepar chuckled, “Nah. That headstone’s news to me too. I fucking wish I did, though. You and that reeking confederate never gave me shit but trouble.” He gestured with his weapon to the surrounding graves. “At least I won’t have to carry you very far.”

Taknark steeled his gaze towards the group of gunmen. “Here’s as good a place as any.” He looked up at his cigarette, nearly extinguished. “One last drag for the road?”

Vepar thumbed the hammer back on his own gun. “Fuck you. Kill him.”

The lead gunman placed his finger on the trigger, and saw the projectile flying at him. He moved his arm up to shield his head, expecting the hidden knife to strike, or a hidden flashbang to detonate at any moment. Time slowed to a crawl as he ducked, and looked up at the flicked cigarette flying overhead, its dim cherry leaving an orange trail against the fading light. He had just enough time to register the sight before the hole was ripped through his chest.

Bang.

The gunmen fell, and Taknark fired two more shots at the leading lackeys. 

Bang. Bang.

One fell clutching his chest, and the other fell like a bag of concrete as the bullet passed through his eye. Taknark vaulted over Khaishan’s headstone as the group opened fire. Pieces of slate chipped off, and a bullet came whizzing through the stone, grazing Taknark on the shoulder. He rolled out of cover with his palm on the hammer of his revolver, and fanned it.

Bang. Bang.

Two more shots rang out as two more fell. Vepar and the last henchman fired wildly as Taknark rolled between the graves. He heard the click of the rack sticking to the slide release, and the distinctive shlick of the magazine falling. Taknark rose over the graves, drew a bead, and fired.

Bang. 

Between the eyes. The last henchman fell backwards into the dirt as the blood ran down the hill. Taknark moved back from the graves onto the cemetery path, and trained his revolver on Vepar.

“Got time for a couple of questions?” Taknark asked, using his free hand to light another cigarette, keeping his eyes steeled on Vepar.

Vepar chuckled, then laughed loudly, raising his weapon back up towards Taknark. “What is it they used to call you? The Six-Shot Smuggler? Stylish.”

“I haven’t heard that one in a long time. You’ve got a taste for old history, Vepar.”

Vepar grinned. “You’re out, Taknark. I counted ‘em. Any last jokes you wanna make before I vent your fucking skull?”

Taknark took another long drag. “If you didn’t know Khaishan was dead, why risk impersonating him? Why send the letter?”

Vepar shook his head, and placed his finger on the trigger. “What fucking letter.” And squeezed.

Before the trigger moved, Vepar’s hand fell to the ground, still gripping the gun. His jaw dropped and he didn’t have time to make a sound before a katana passed cleanly through his neck. His assailant had his sword sheathed before he’d fallen, and his head rolled off, his face still in stunned silence.

The man stepped forward, resting his sheathed blade over his shoulders. A pale-skinned Au Ra with black horns, brown hair tied in a braid over his shoulder, and piercing blue eyes.

Taknark hummed, and lowered his weapon. “You look sprightly for a dead man.”

Khaishan shrugged. “IVth Legion found out I survived the rebellion. Figured it was easier to die than fight for no money. Again.”

Taknark took a final drag from his cigarette and dropped it on the ground, stamping it. “Well I’ve been chasing you across this continent for no money, and found your headstone instead. I hope you’ve got something really good, otherwise you’re a bigger dick than I ever gave you credit for.”

Their bickering was interrupted by a sound, like a spell failing to cast or the air being let out of a balloon. The pair looked down at Vepar’s corpse, its midlander features blurring as the corpse began to contort. Afterwards, a taller corpse and the distinct head of an au ra lay at the pair's feet.

“Fucking fantasia. I guess Au Ra do stick out nowadays.” Taknark sighed. “I should just avoid horned beings in general.”

Khaishan laughed. “A lot of attitude for someone who just had their life saved.”

“I had it under control.”

Khaishan perked an eyebrow. “How’s that?”

“Do you know why they used to call me the Six-Shot Smuggler?” Taknark asked.

Khaishan tapped his head with his sword sheath. “Sounds self-explanatory.”

“Alliteration.” Taknark replied, releasing the cylinder of his revolver and showing two brass bullets still loaded. “Eight shots. Never carried less.”

“They should call you the Eight-Shot Asshole instead.” Khaishan said with a laugh, turning to leave back down the hill. “I’ve got work, if you’re not too busy playing soldier. Let’s go to Namai before the tigers come to clean up this mess.”

Taknark clicked the cylinder back into place and placed the revolver back into the holster beneath his shoulder. As he moved down the hill, the last light of the day passed behind the cliffs, catching the engraving on Khaishan’s sheath.

Karash

[creativerogues]

Campaign Diary #6: Northbound

So... It’s been a while hasn’t it.

Well with quarantine ruining all the fun, and teaching people how to Zoom becoming the single greatest ordeal in my life, it seemed like the Campaign would’ve been put on hold indefinitely, or at least until all this blew over.

But no, I wouldn’t allow such an awesome campaign to be put on hold, and so while writing the Player’s Guide I’ve been setting up a session, and now it looks like we’re back on track, at least a little...

Anyways, here’s a recap since it’s been a while...

We have a Kenku Rogue still frozen by Magic, a recently resurrected Tabaxi Bard, a super-peeved Aarakocra Barbarian and a Tortle Wizard and Human Druid all trying to kill a Green Dragon called Danae, the Deathlady.

It you want a better Recap, you can find Campaign Diary Number 5 HERE!

Anyways, let’s continue by actually starting this thing.

Episode #6: Northbound

The Party awakes to find the three Silver Charge Members they hired in Episode #5 already packed up and ready to go. In fact, they’re actually having breakfast, with the Human Man cooking rations in a metal pan over a brass brazier.

The Party gets everything ready, and enjoys their own breakfast, which is nothing because they brought no food with them…

As everyone gets ready for the first day of travelling, the Minotaur speaks, saying that they should move through the light snow areas to avoid leaving traces in the snow that animals could follow, and the Wizard can cast his Spells to make their journey a little safer…

Meanwhile, the Human Wizard (Who they STILL haven’t learned the name of!) begins throwing strange objects into the Brass Brazier. At first it was just coal, which seemed sensible enough, but then he starts throwing sticks and grapes into the fire, followed by some leaves and branches with strange flowers that he pulls out of a sizeable pouch.

Then he starts making strange sweeping gestures with his arms: sculpting the flames in the brazier, slicing, patting, poking and even smacking and punching the fire while slowly chanting and humming under his breath...

And after completing this strange ritual, the Man goes down on both knees in front of the brazier, and whispers under his breath: "Come forth my other half, I want to find myself again".

And bursting forth, a bright white snowy owl flies out of the flames of the brazier, landing on the Man’s arm as he stands, and places the large owl on his shoulder, as he grabs a few handfuls of snow and begins extinguishing the flames and packing away the brazier into his Pack.

And that ladies and gentlemen, is how a badass casts Find Familiar...

And as the Party sets off, learning on the way that the Human Wizard's name is Quill, a Northern Man clad in a heavy purple coat with green trimmings and thick furs around the neck, while the Minotaur's name is Sticks, and the Tortle's name is Pieces. So yeah: Quill, Sticks and Pieces.

Quill then sends his new Snowy Owl Familiar into the skies, and his eyes turn cloudy as he places his hand on Sticks’ arm, and everyone just kinda waits until his eyes become clear, and he reports that the area around here is clear, and they can rest in a few hours so he can scout the area again...

A Strange Request...

During the morning preparation, Potosh asks if he can get Hard Hat to cast Sending to his Mother or Father... 

A bit of a strange request but I allowed it because roleplay...

I ask Potosh's Player to make a History Check to remember the faces of his mother and father, which tells you something about his Character. He succeeds but now I make him roll a Performance Check but rolls a 7, so he doesn't give Hard Hat the detailed description he needs.

According to Potosh, his father had a long face with blue eyes and slick back dark brown hair, probably in his early 60′s now.

His mother he speaks more fondly of, talking about the floral dress she always wore and the short curly blonde hair she had. He says she’s probably in her late 40's to early 50's, tall and thin with a face similar to Potosh's...

Hard Hat apologises and says he needs more details off Potosh, but Potosh quite literally cannot remember them, having lived away from his Parents since... well since they pushed him away...

Ice to Meet You!

Quill sadly has no "Snow Avoidance" Spell to cast on the Group, so they all end up having to deal with the Penalties from the Snow and Difficult Terrain.

The Party trudge through the snow for about an hour (with Potosh in the form of a Snow Leopard), until they encounter some strange, what could only be described as “long thin blue sticks” poking just a few inches out of the snow, before the faces of the three Silver Charge Members suddenly turn pale.

“Nobody move. Nobody move a f**king muscle…”

Everybody freezes, and they begin to see the blue sticks move, swaying in the wind…

Potosh, who is in Snow Leopard Form and leading the group, tries to back up from these things, rolling a 17 on his Stealth Check, with an extra +10 from the Pass without Trace he has cast just before they set off… Rolling a 27 total and managing to very slowly back up away from these weird little sticks out of the ground...

Quill describes that they just messed up big-time, and the Group is currently standing on top of a Creature: A Remorhaz, and it’s currently feeling the vibration of footsteps on the hard snow crust.

And now everybody gets to roll Stealth Checks! But thankfully, no one fails...

Quill then sends his Snowy Owl over to these blue sticks, which turn out to be antennae, and the Snowy Owl pecks the antennae, and the Remorhaz emerges in a cloud of steam and slush, attacking and swallowing its Snowy Owl whole and causing it to poof out of existence...

And the Party rolls initiative as a large ice-blue centipede with leathery wings like a cobra's hood, an insect-like head with a flat face and giant bulbous eyes, and a long scaly segmented body with dozens of legs, with horns along its body and a line down its back that glowed red with an inner fire, bursts out of the snow in a cloud of steam and a pile of melted snow…

I roll for all the NPCs, Quill getting a Natural 20 on his Initiative, but Potosh acting first with a 22 on Initiative:

Potosh runs forward in his Snow Leopard Form and claws at the Young Remorhaz, missing with his first attack but scoring a crit on his second.

So all is looking good! Until Potosh is sprayed in the face with the Remorhaz's boiling hot blood and takes some fire damage... Then all is not looking good.

Next up is Quill, the Human Wizard and Silver Charge Mercenary, who casts Otiluke's Resilient Sphere on the Young Remorhaz, trapping the large monstrosity in a sphere of shimmering force and getting the Play of the Game and title of Most Valuable NPC.

You know, instead of the person that literally just resurrected their friend...

During this time, Quill casts Sending using some of his Spell Slots to message some other people in the Silver Charge: Specifically someone called Eli and some other person he refers to as Leatherback.

Meanwhile everyone else is panicking as this Remorhaz is clawing and biting at the sphere, which won’t be able to hold for as long as they’d like...

Quill casts Seeming to turn himself, Sticks, Pieces and everyone else (except Hard Hat), turning them all into other members of the Silver Charge, and commands Hard Hat to cast Sending and send a message to each of them for him, since Quill is currently focusing on containing the Young Remorhaz.

Hard Hat goes along with it and casts Sending as many times as he can to contact all these people, saying: "I am Hard Hat, I am paying your Mercenaries for protection. We have Remorhaz bound on South-East peaks, it is breaking free. We seek aid."

Minutes pass, and tension is rising as two Spellcasters suddenly appear out of a shimmer purple doorway.

One makes a remark to Quill, before they tell him to end the Resilient Sphere Spell and let the two deal with the creature.

The Sphere is reluctantly dispelled and one Mage casts Reduce, shrinking the Young Remorhaz, while the other Mage casts Charm Monster, succeeding and charming the Young Remorhaz. 

The Mage then casts Dimension Door and teleports out with the shrunken Remorhaz, the other Mage also Dimension Door-ing out of there and the Party Members (as well as Thrak the Half-Orc and the three Silver Charge Members) are left kinda stunned…

This is what happens when you ask NPCs that are several levels higher than you to help out, they get it done quick and easy and make you look like a bunch of scrubs...

Now the Party is left just kinda standing there, since they basically just panic speed-dialled every important person in the Silver Charge.

 So naturally, they decide to take a quick short rest to gather their thoughts, because WHAT THE F**K?

Wasting Time...

The Party takes a Short Rest after the Encounter with the Remorhaz and decides to chat, with Hard Hat speaking with Potosh about how they're going to get the Money to pay these people, since hiring highly skilled Mercenaries means paying several gold pieces a day, and they currently have a total of absolutely nothing...

Potosh thinks that if Foot can charm Thrak, they can use the Diamonds she still has on her to pay the cost, but Hard Hat says that robbing from the person that literally just resurrected their friend yesterday is somehow just a little too far for him…

Potosh also says that time is running out for him to get his pet bear back, since Thrak the Half-Orc said that in order for her to resurrect any Creature, she'll need a bunch of diamonds, and the more important part, the creature has to be dead less than 10 Days.

Hard Hat says that he's trying his best, and he knows they have maybe two days tops to get to the Capitol and get back here to resurrect that Bear…

Why is the Bear suddenly important? Ask the Nature-Loving Druid…

An Argument? Oh My!

So with the Short Rest over, Hard Hat suggests they all take Phantom Steeds to speed up the process, and asks Quill if he knows that Spell.

He does, but he doesn't tell Hard Hat that, instead lying and saying he's heard of the spell, but does not know the incantations necessary to perform it.

Why is Quill lying? Because for every day the Party travels under his protection, that's some extra pay for him, and turning what could be a two week journey up north into a couple of days would mean a whole chunk of money lost, an angry Tortle and a very angry Minotaur...

But of course Potosh and Foot, both with pretty good Wisdom Scores, notice Quill's words not carrying as much sway as he thought, and rather than ask him in private if he's lying, Potosh calls him out and says that they've got two days to get everything done, and they're just slowing down the Party.

Hard Hat calms down the situation by saying that he might have a way to fix this, up-casting Sending at 4th Level and asking Kenzo to speed up the process, saying that she has two days and apologising for the time crunch.

She responds saying that she'll have to track down some people, but she might be able to get to where they are within a day, a day and a half at most, and says that while she doesn't think she has exactly what they're looking for, she does have something, and she hopes that they haven't forgotten about their deal…

Hard Hat relays this to the group, and the three Silver Charge Members go from "we're here for the money" to "you guys don't deserve us", saying that they'll take their money and go if the Party thinks they're so dang high and mighty.

But then Thrak butts in: Saying that the three mercenaries were hired to help the group travel up north, and they should help each other instead of asking for money.

And thin strings of smoke begin to emerge from Thrak's mouth as she speaks to Quill specifically, the smoke travelling a few inches into the air and vanishing, as Thrak casts a Spell: Geas...

I roll to see if Quill notices the Spell being cast, and he does, and attempts a Counterspell.

However, with a 3rd Level Counterspell, and Geas being a 5th Level Spell, he has to roll a 15 or Higher to counter the spell.

But he fails, rolling a 9 total, so Thrak's Geas Spell succeeds, with Thrak feeling a little guilty that she was "forced" to cast it to ensure the Human Wizard's loyalty at this time.

I also roll to see if Sticks or Pieces notices what Thrak is doing, and they both fail, which I flavoured as them not knowing she was casting a Spell at all because they don’t know any magic, let alone know the specific components to spells...

Quill's eyes glaze over for a moment as Thrak asks him to kindly stay here with her and the rest of the Party protecting them until further notice...

She then takes out her small wooden chest again and gives Sticks and Pieces enough diamonds to pay for their work for two days, the day before and today, so they have no need to be here if they don't want to be.

And of course the big Minotaur fella decodes that to mean "go away" and takes the hint, telling Quill to cast whatever Spells he has left to take them home.

But Quill doesn't respond the way he usually does, saying that he's staying with the Party until their friend arrives, and will be returning to them after such a time as he feels they are safe…

Does Thrak feel guilty about forcing the Wizard to stay with them, of course she does, but if it ensures the Party's survival for the next day or two, then despite feeling bad about it, she'd still do it...

And now the Party has the task of waiting for a day and a half for Kenzo to get there… But the question is, can she get there in time?

[softforcal]

Can you continue the nascar HCs with Luke?? It was so good and all your writing is amazing

NASCAR LUKE X READER

-okay so this boy is an unlikely race car driver

-unlike his other pack of race car driving friends, he’s not the guy that’s always concerned about ‘going fast’

-like, he can be cocky, but he’s more chill and less intense

-you meet him at a club and his friends are being classic cocky, young race car driving scoundrels, flirting with girls

-and then there’s this tall blonde guy

-and he’s so pretty and angelic but he looks pretty chill

-you start talking and you ask what the big deal is because its obvious some people recognize these guys

-and he kinda of bashfully tells you that him and his three friends are nascar drivers and they’re pretty young but successful so they get a lot of attention

-and he’s used to girls hearing he’s a race car driver and asking for him to give them a ride somewhere and he just assumes you’re one of those girls and is just like “and no, i wont take you for a ride in my car.”

-and you’re like “please don’t. i don’t really feel like dying tonight.”

-he blinks at you first then just laughs because okay, damn

-but maybe you’ll let him buy you a drink

-so you begin talking and you just connect really well, suddenly the club is closing and you’re both being kicked out, his friends long since gone with girls

-”i should really give you a ride home.” he says

-you laugh, “no thank you.”

-you wave down a cab and as you’re getting in, Luke’s like “can I at least get your number?”

-you give it to him and he watches your cab drive away and he’s just like… wow, she’s amazing

-the next morning he meets up for breakfast with his friends, but its two in the afternoon cuz they’re all hung over, and Luke’s like “so i got this girls number-”

-and he tells them about you and they’re all kinda like… “don’t text her until tomorrow.” because these fucking racecar drivers fancy themselves ladies men or some shit

-but Luke spends the entire day staring at his phone and wanting to call you

-he finally just says fuck it and gives you a call

-you answer the phone and he kinda of blanks at the sound of you saying hello then snaps back into it and is like “hey, it’s Luke, the guy from the club-” “race car guy!” “yeah, that’s me. look, i wanna take you out.”

-the next day he shows up at your place in his decked out car and you take one look at it and you’re like “nope, i am not getting in your car, we can walk somewhere but i am not letting you drive.”

-and he’s shook again because “come on Gorgeous, i’m a professional.”

-but he finally gives in and walks with you to the main street and you two spend the entire day poking around and laughing and he’s such a fucking sweetie

-but he’s itching to show you what he can do behind a wheel

-”look, if you can make it to date number 5, i’ll let you drive me somewhere, deal?”

-this boy is determined to make it to date number five

-when he drops you off at the end of date number two, he kisses you for the first time and he’s never felt anything like it. it even rivals the way he feels when he’s on a racetrack, that exhilaration, and fuck, just like that, he’s addicted

-date number five, he shows up in his beautiful car and you’re just like, “please let me take back the whole date number five thing because i really didn’t think we’d get this far-” and he just laughs, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you, “not a chance.”

-he opens the car door for you and you get in and you’re just like holy fuck please don’t let me die

-he actually drives the speed limit in the city

-he blasts music and you both belt out the lyrics

-and then you realize he’s driving you away from town and you’re like… “where are we going?”

-”there’s an old highway shoot that no one uses anymore.” he explains, “figured if i’m going to show you what driving fast is like, you’d prefer if there weren’t many cars around.”

-and then he just presses down on the gas pedal and his car just flies

-you have to admit it’s exhilarating

-and this fuck is driving with only one hand on the wheel while his other hand is on your thigh

-this arrogant, cocky, fuck

-but wow, you’re laughing and having a great time right away

-and he is so sexy

-like what the fuck, now you know why girls are into this

-”pull over.” “what?” “please?” you grab his hand and he slows down, pulling off the side of the road, “so how many people do you think use this road?” you ask. “not many, why?”

-you grab his face and kiss him

-the stick shift is in the way and the front seat is very difficult to make out in, but this guy is big so it’s probably going to be tough no matter where you are in the car

-straight up one of you accidentally bumps the horn and you pull away laughing and you’re just like, “get out of the car.”

-he is out of the car fast and you sit on the hood, he comes around the car and slots himself between your legs, cupping your face then kissing you again

-straight up fucking on the hood of his car

-oddly enough, he’s never fucked a girl on the hood of his car before and holy fuck he thinks he’s in love with you

-lots of kissing

-you both finish and you just lay back against the hood of his car. he pulls his pants back up and lays down next to you, which makes the whole car shift down cuz boy is big, but you both just look at the sky

-”wanna try it in the back seat?”

-ya’ll are raunchy but the adrenaline is pumping fam

-you just chill and talk and finally Luke’s like “we should be heading back. wanna drive?”

-its a huge compliment that he’s letting you drive but you say no, “maybe on date number ten.”

-both of you laughing

-he drives you home and opens the car door for you, leaning against his car and watching you walk up to your house, you turn, “wanna come in?”

-he stays over for the first time. lots of sex fam.

-he can be soft but rough, like, it’s a good combo, but he generally likes having control

-waking up in tangled sheets with this blonde boy

-”so, i have a race coming up, i was thinking you might wanna come?”

-”a race.”

-”yeah, like, on a track. my friend Michael hurt his foot so he’s not driving but he watches from one of the VIP booths, i always have a plus one ticket if you want to go. he needs some company-” Luke tries to downplay him wanting you there but you see right through him and agree

-the day of the race Michael picks you up because Luke’s at the track

-the car ride is nice, you get to know him and he’s pretty sweet

-he tells you that Luke has had a thing for you since day one

-and Luke never really invites girls to come see his races

-but Michael also warns you that being a race car driver is dangerous and he’ll be there for you if anything happens

-”do you think something bad will happen?” you ask. “Nah, Luke’s one of the best.” Michael grins.

-once in the VIP section, Michael points out which car is Luke’s and explains the whole race situation

-the race stars and you understand what Michael means by you getting anxious about it right away

-Michael actually reaches out and grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze because yikes, this shit looks dangerous

-you keep your eyes on Luke’s car

-any risky move he makes or swerve or acceleration leaves you breathless

-it seems to last forever

-when the race finishes and Luke is first everyone cheers and Michael pulls you into a hug, “told you Luke’s the best.” he grins

-but part of you is still like, fuck, what if he’d crashed? because one car DID crash and that’s scary

-but you like him too much already

-you’re so fucked

-he does pictures and everything and he is sexy as fuck in his red, race car outfit

-he finally comes over and kisses you, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you off the ground before placing his race car hat on your head

-then he looks at Michael, “hey Mike, how’d the girlfriend like the race? wasn’t too scared was she?” he teases, fingers brushing your chin. “she was scared, think you got yourself a keeper mate.” Michael laughs

-so he just called you his girlfriend

-going out and meeting all his race car buds and he introduces you to them all and they all assure you that this guy is head over heals for you

-all the race car guys, Luke included, live life on the edge because their job is dangerous, so Luke’s a take life by the horns kinda guy

-he’s all in right away

-so much love

-so many ‘i love you’s’

-going to all his races and watching, terrified but relieved when he doesn’t get hurt

-fucking while wearing his race car hat (lol)

-him teaching you how to be a better driver

-whenever you drive he always wants you to go over the speed limit

-car sex

-he’d be the guy that buys you a car for your birthday

-or as an anniversary present

-slow dancing all the time because you two are in your own little world and sometimes boy just needs to slow down after a race

-having a huge mansion

-like. you’re dating an amazing race car driver, he makes cash money fam

-wow. so i didn’t know how much i loved Nascar Luke.

[janellewrites]

the secret to sleeping in | in which hot cocoa, burnt bacon, and a space heater save the first morning of fall.

~3k words of pure fluff stemming from my love of Niall Horan and my impatience for the coming of fall. I hope you enjoy and that you’ll let me know what you think. xx

[September 2017]

Lola woke up shivering.

She craned her neck so that she could see over her boyfriend’s bare shoulder, the alarm clock on the bedside table confirming her suspicions. It was 8:30am. And for a Saturday morning with no plans or responsibilities – a Saturday morning that she’d earmarked especially for lazing round – that just wasn’t good enough.

‘I’m supposed to be sleeping in’, Lola thought. Out cold until at least noon. But damnit, she wasn’t out at all. She was just… well… cold.

A shiver ran up her spine as she gently pulled the sheets up over her and her boyfriend’s heads, hoping to shut out some of the cold from a bedroom that had somehow become an icebox overnight. She needed a source of warmth but there was no way she was getting out of bed so she burrowed back into the big spoon position instead, curving her body as tightly as she could around her boyfriend’s fetal position.

“S’not time to get up yet,” Niall Horan groaned, his voice gravelly and disoriented from being spooned just a bit too aggressively and effectively squeezed awake. He stretched his legs out and yawned, plucking Lola’s hand away from where it laid against his bare stomach and bringing her fingers to his lips, his kiss against her skin providing a welcomed spark of warmth. “We’re supposed to be sleeping in, remember?”

“I know,” Lola whispered, her words pressed into kisses that she left between Niall’s shoulder blades in reciprocity. “I’m the one who cleared our schedules for this,” she groaned. “Trust me. I know.”

“Yeah. So… what’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? 

“I’m freezing, Niall!” she hissed. She had no idea how he couldn’t feel it, but from the looks of things he truly wasn’t affected. His skin was completely smooth, free of the goosebumps that were covering her head to toe.

Niall rubbed over Lola’s knuckles gently, shaking his head against his pillow. “Feels fine to me, love. Think you’re being a bit dramatic?” he asked, his soft chuckle causing Lola to suck her teeth and pinch his side. “What?!” he asked exasperatedly at the feel of the nips against his skin. “I’m serious! I don’t feel cold at all!”

“Oh, okay. Says the boy from Ireland.”

A beat of silence followed her statement, interrupted just seconds later when both of them giggled.

The laughter was all it took for a lazy battle of tickles and pinches to break out beneath the sheets, arms and legs flailing sleepily in a playful tussle, their movement eventually pulling the sheets down to pool at their waists. Niall flipped over to face Lola after it became clear that having his back turned to her wasn’t giving him any advantages, catching her small wrists in his larger hands just in time to thwart her sneaky attempt at pinching his nipple. He whispered, “c’mere you,” and pulled her against his chest, smashing their fronts together tightly.

For the second time since waking up way too early, Lola had Niall to thank for a brief spark of warmth. This time it flooded her cheeks, her neck, and her chest at the feeling of having his eyes on her and of being skin to skin with him in that way. She was still quite new to sharing a bed with Niall and to waking up beside him, still high from the freedom of being barely clothed with him the way that she was, nothing but his tattered Eagles t-shirt to cover her body and nothing but low slung athletic shorts to cover his.

Niall rubbed his open palm up and down her back. “How’s this?” he asked.

She shook her head, admitting, “It doesn’t really help with the cold, but it… does feel good.”

She might not have been satisfied with being awake at the moment, but there was so much to appreciate about Niall’s nearness in the mornings. About the opportunity to witness private moments of messy brown hair and sleepy blue eyes. When he slid his hand up to the back of her neck and pulled her in further – close enough to place a kiss against the silky headscarf that covered her head – Lola reached up to slide her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to meet her mouth for a slow but earnest kiss.

They kissed until their mouths parted instinctively, Niall pecking her quickly on the corner of her mouth before she got too far away from him then continuing to trail kisses downwards, gentle brushes of his lips against her clavicle just above the hem of her (his) t-shirt. “You know, now that I think about it, I think it’s the first day of fall today,” he remembered into one of the brushes of his lips to her skin. “That’s probably why the temp’s dropped. Guess I  should’ve set us up a reminder so we could be expecting it.”

Lola leaned back a bit to give Niall space to continue kissing her. Chicago was gonna take some getting used to. Back in Tennessee, where she grew up, fall time came on slow and steady, giving folks an opportunity to ease into the idea of their world cooling down. In Chicago? Not so much. “I guess I just thought it’d be a bit more gradual, you know?” she sighed. “Like it is back home…”

They were at the tail end of an unusually warm summer in Chicago – their first summer of living together and both of their first summers in the Windy City period. Over the past two months, their weekends had been spent at the botanical gardens, Lola sketching the flowers while Niall strummed his guitar. Their afternoons had been spent at the pool in their apartment complex, Lola sunbathing on the beach chairs while Niall taught the neighbor kids how to float.

Lola liked to think that summertime would always hold a special place in their hearts. After all, it was summertime when they met – just the summer before to be specific – at an arts camp for underprivileged youth. Lola was a regular volunteer, returning to teach pottery like she’d done several years in a row and Niall was a first-time volunteer, visiting from across the pond and fresh out of University College Dublin. After graduating, he’d wanted to take same time to himself before he accepted a job offer, the opportunity to teach guitar (his first love) at a summer youth program in America (the country he grew up dreaming of visiting) seeming a lot like the right kind of adventure. As fate would have it, they’d met on the first day of volunteer orientation, a week before the campers arrived. Lola had noticed Niall immediately and so had everyone else. He was the cute  boy in the horn rimmed glasses and the paperboy hat that caught everyone’s eye - the soulful way that he played his instrument in the music room at night peaking everyone’s interest.

She’d have told anyone that she felt like the luckiest girl in the world when on the second day of orientation, Niall asked her if she wanted to come with him to a farmer’s market he’d read about not far from campgrounds but Niall always reminded her that it was him who couldn’t believe it when she said yes. They’d had a great time browsing what felt like miles and miles of fresh fruits, vegetables, wild flowers, and homemade breads and desserts. They’d started out side by side at first but further into it, somewhere between bunches of spinach and little pots of raw honey comb, they’d ended up hand in hand.

Niall was tongue tied later that night, when what turned out to be a long night had finally come to a close and he was idling outside of Lola’s parents’ home. He’d turned to her with blushing cheeks to thank her for spending the afternoon with him, stumbling over his words all the while.

“I’m sorry. M’really tripping over myself here, aren’t I?” he sighed, shaking his head and lowering his eyes to his lap as a crimson blush colored his neck and the tops of his ears. “I wanna be the coolest guy you’ve ever met right now. Really impress you, you know? but I don't… Christ, I don’t think I can pull it off.”

“Oh, come on, Niall, stop. What in the world is there to be nervous about?” she remembered saying. It’s just me, she thought. She was completely taken off guard by the notion that he could be anything other than the smooth and cool persona that he projected.

“You, Lola. You’re what’s to be nervous about,” was his response to her. “Lola, you are, hands down, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he admitted, finally looking up, his bright blues dancing in the moment of honesty.

Lola would always remember the way her heart dropped to her knees in that moment.

Needless to say, the two of them were inseparable for the rest of the camp and afterwards too, staying connected through phone calls, emails, and texts  once Niall returned to Ireland to sort through those job offers he’d left behind. It took four months for the first accounting firm in America to make an offer but when they did, he jumped on it without hesitation – putting the plans he sometimes entertained about finding ways to play his guitar for a living on  the back burner and letting the firm bring him to Chicago for the new gig. He was disappointed about the hundreds of miles that still separated him from Tennessee where Lola called home but happy that at least there was no longer an ocean between them.

“I could dig out the space heater,” Niall suggested when he’d noticed that none of Lola’s goosebumps had disappeared since he’d started kissing her, propping up on his elbows and squinting against the light that filtered in through their bedroom blinds as he looked around the nooks and crannies of their bedroom. A moment later, a smile curved the corners of his mouth.

“Still the funniest thing ever, by the way,” he added, and that was all he had to say for a shared memory to flood both of their minds.

“Still can’t believe I had the nerve to send you that thing.” Lola let the memory come back to her, reaching across the sheets to cover Niall’s hand with her own, slotting their fingers together. She thought back to when Niall had first gotten to Chicago for the new job and how they’d spend so many hours on the phone with each other, getting to know each other and talking about everything under the sun. She ended up finding out that Niall was hot natured (“I could count the amount of times I’ve actually turned on central heating of my own accord,” he’d admitted, to which she’d literally gasped) and, in that regard, he was the exact opposite from her. So she’d had a space heater delivered to his new place when he first moved into it, a note attached that asked him to go ahead and warm the place up for her. It was meant to be a gag gift, though if she was honest with herself she’d have to admit that she was only half joking.

“Glad you did.” Niall squeezed her hand and exhaled deeply, shaking his head. “I knew I’d found myself a keeper when that damn thing showed up on my doorstep. There’s nothing like a girl who knows what she wants,” he admitted, laying a soft gaze on her that took her breath away. “Top of the hall closet maybe?” he pivoted, noticing the way that Lola still shivered even through the smile that had spread across her face from the memories. "Or did we stick it under the bed?” he asked, pulling up the sides of the sheets and leaning over the side of the mattress to look beneath them. “Okay so no, not there.” He pulled himself up with a throaty groan moments later. “Hall closet it is then. Suppose I can go check.”

“Thank you, baby.” Lola wrapped the covers around her more tightly at the loss of Niall’s body heat when he climbed out of the bed. “Oh and hey…” Niall looked up from the Nike slides he was slipping into, giving her his attention as he worked the shirt over his head. “If you wanted to get us a hot cocoa while you were up I wouldn’t be mad at that at all…” She gave him her most innocent smile.

“Cocoa, huh?”

“Mmhm. There’s a box of mix in the pantry. I was planning to break it out to celebrate the fall time. You know… back when I actually remembered it.”

Niall put his hands on his hips. “Will that help you get back to sleep?”

“I mean, it would’ve,” she shrugged with a big smile. “If I wasn’t kinda hungry now too…”

“So bacon,” Niall offered. He knew her cravings like the back of his hand, her love for bacon being something that she’d actually passed on to him since they’d been living together.

“Only if it’s not too much to ask.”

“C’mon now, bunny,” he reasoned, using the pet name that she loved the most. “When do I ever say no to you?”

He came back over to the bed and leaned in for one last kiss against her lips before he edged out of the room, reciting the checklist over his shoulder.

“Space heater, hot cocoa and bacon, comin’ right up. Then we go back to sleep!”

“Ay, ay, captain!”

Lola fell back against the soft pillows to the sound of Niall rummaging through the hall closet, thinking that these were the moments that made her the most glad that she followed her heart out of Memphis and into a new city with a new boy. 

She had to admit, she thought she was being a bit crazy at first she’d started looking for jobs in Chicago right after finding out about Niall’s job offer in the states. Could she really follow her heart the way that she wanted to? Could she just pick up her life and move to another city to chase a summer romance? She wasn’t sure if any of it was feasible but she went on spending her nights scouring job postings anyway, applying for anything and everything she thought she’d enjoy until she actually got something – a part time gig working the registers in the Art Institute of Chicago’s gift shop. She’d been so nervous to tell Niall about it during one of their evening phone calls, hoping he wouldn’t think she was coming on too strong when she told him all about how she’d come across something that would allow her to be near him and to interact with people and art on a daily basis. She expected some hesitancy out of him, had prepared herself for it by not getting her hopes up, but he surprised her when he sat there and booked her a one way ticket out to him before they hung up for the night.

She packed her bags and took that flight, getting to celebrate their anniversary of meeting in a condo he’d asked her to move into. A condo where their toothbrushes lived side by side, where his sheet music was stacked neatly on the coffee table and her ceramics brightened the hall table by the door, and where two love birds woke up on the first day of fall with one feeling just fine and one way too cold. And with fall would come the opportunity to make even more new memories, carving pumpkins, running through fallen leaves at the park and passing out candy to the neighbor kids on Halloween. She could already feel herself drifting off to sleep just from the coziness of that thought alone, until Niall came back space heater in hand, winking at her before plugging it in, switching it on, and leaving it to whir gently in the corner, pointed Lola’s way.

Again she drifted, the sounds of the kitchen sink running, pans clattering and grease sizzling creating a sort of lullaby. The salty sweet smell of the bacon frying filled the apartment, spreading a smile on her face as she stretched her legs out beneath the blankets. The smell of the meat cooking, the welcomed warmth that spread through the room and the anticipation of Niall being back in bed with her soon had her so happy that she giggled out loud.

“Hey, what’s the joke?” Niall asked, finally back, this time with two steaming mugs in one hand and a plate heaped high with bacon strips in the other.

“Nothing, come, come, come!” she nearly squealed, clapping her hands excitedly and shuffling back up into a seated position to welcome her boyfriend back to bed.

Niall kicked the bedroom door closed gently with the back of his foot. “I’m comin’, woman. Patience,” he hushed her, handing one mug to her, then the plate, before sliding under the covers at Lola’s side with an over exaggerated sigh. “Now, is everything to your liking, m’lady?”

“Mmm, it’s good. So good.” Lola’s words were muffled. He hadn’t been in bed thirty seconds yet and she was already talking through a mouthful of perfectly crisp bacon, burnt at the edges just how she liked it. Niall watched with amusement as she swallowed that first bite and then took a sip of her cocoa, the mix of sweet and salty flavors on her tongue causing her to turn her face up and smile towards the ceiling.

“Best. Morning. Ever.” she declared with full confidence in her voice, Niall nodding along to her as he tore into a strip.

“Might even get back to sleep?” he asked with a hopeful look.

Lola gave him a sure one in return. “Oh, definitely getting back to sleep.”

“Reckon we might’ve found the secret to sleeping in then, bunny.”

“What? Hot cocoa, burnt bacon and a space heater?”

“That’s exactly right.”

Lola took another sip of her cocoa and closed her eyes to the lovely warmth of the swallow. “You know what, Niall. I think we have.”

It wasn’t long before both mugs were empty and the last bacon strip had been split, Lola allowing Niall the bigger half because of all the hard work he’d put in that morning on her behalf. She placed the empty dishes on the side table, right beside the alarm clock that no longer annoyed her with the time that it glowed then cuddled back into the covers, Niall the big spoon this time, his body molding to hers and his arm slung over her hip.

“All good now?” He muttered into a kiss to the back of her neck, pulling her close.

“All good,” she replied, the warmth and love that she felt in that moment settling over her like a balm that soothed her towards sleep.

Niall fell first, deep breaths blowing warm against the back of her neck as the space heater at the foot of the bed whirred warm air of its own. With low eyes she looked to the window again, appreciating the rain soaked view of the first morning of fall settling over Chicago for those last few seconds before drifting to sleep.

[jewlwpet]

Starfan13 Livechat 2

“This feels so cool; it’s just like I have friends; it’s the best.” I knew this would give me feels, but not this quickly. I’m sure Star would be glad to be your friend; she invited you to her sleepover!

After reading the username “FeatherStarWarriorCats,” she commented “Great names!” so while not explicitly canon, it’s very likely Starfan13 is into Warriors and I think that’s super cute.

There was a Hamilton reference but it’s not actually clear if the musical exists in the Star Vs universe so it could just be Daron Nefcy who likes it & not necessarily Starfan13 herself.

“You’re the only friends I have! Oh, and Star, of course,” well I’m glad we got that cleared up, anyway. But in last week’s chat she referred to Marco as a friend... It seems something happened.

She falls down all the time; she’s clumsy like Marco.

Honestly my favorite thing here, even better than anything in the last Starfan13 chat, I think, is the revelation that these mysterious “ways” she has of getting information on Star is at least sometimes just “She told me all about it offscreen.” She jumped out of the window after Star fell in Mathmagic, and Star told her about the time looping.

During Mathmagic she also managed to take pictures of all the alternate versions of Star.

She also has nicknames for them. “There was Warrior Star, Donut Star, Baby Star, Cat Star, Old Lady Star, Demon Star!, and of course, Boy Star, my faaaaavorite.” I’m... not sure how to feel about that last bit. I might just pretend she was being sarcastic there (ofc she could be bi & that’s fine, but that she’d like him more than the Star who is her friend...).

She says she thinks “Boy Star” would also be named Star, but she admits she’s just guessing.

She wanted to go to the bounce lounge too but had detention for throwing herself out the window in math class (that made me laugh).

She did edit herself into a picture from that day.

She knew about the Princess Marco action figures (”He gets those residuals off his dolls.”).

It’s looking like her friendship with Marco ended because of jealousy. “I guess Marco’s okay sometimes, although everybody knows I’m Star’s best friend.”

She has a clip of Lekhmet even though she said she couldn’t see through the portal to him. Maybe Star takes videos for her sometimes. I’m going with that because I like it a lot more than Starfan13 having an actual tracking device on Star with video cameras.

She speaks goat!! She can understand Lekhmet too.

Omg... “As a matter of fact, my name used to be Bethanyfan13, but we don’t really talk about that, because I don’t really talk about that.” Finally, something concrete about her past.

She prefers dinosaurs to pirates. She loves dinosaurs.

:”Oh. I do not like Oscar. I mean, he’s trying to hang out with Star, and  really, she should be hanging out with me!”

She’s a Love Sentence fan too; it’s her favorite band, because of Star, & her favorite song is Awesome Feeling.

She does still draw the line at telling people secrets from Star’s diary. “That would be an invasion of privacy.”

I’m afraid something might have happened to Señor Marco Junior, because she calls her laser puppy she now. Or maybe her puppy is Señorita Marco Junior now.

Her favorite spell of Star’s is Spider with a Top Hat now (it used to be Narwhal Blast), “’cause he’s just, he’s little, but he really packs a punch, you know? He’s really kinda the coolest.”

She says went into the bathroom to make her horns immediately after first seeing  Star... which is weird, actually, because in the timefreeze ep we saw her wearing them before Star had even come to earth. I guess she had stopped wearing them and started again when she met Star. Yeah, let’s say that.

“I guess Janna’s okay; she’s, you know, not--she’s, like, less of Star’s friend than me; everybody knows I’m Star’s best friend, so Janna, she’s like, somewhere down there, I guess.” They seemed to be getting along fine at Sensei’s birthday party, though.

Asked about the meaning of life: “Well, that’s kind of a big one. I mean, I would say, at least for me, it’s, it’s, ‘Find your happiness and chase after it,’ like how following Star around all day makes me happy, so that’s what I do.

“I’m pretty good with tech stuff; it’d kind of my specialty.”

Asked about Princess Marco: “I mean, not as cool as Star, but it definitely makes Marco cooler when he’s wearing a dress, so I’ll give him that much.” Fair.

She really likes her town.

Asked her favorite animal: “Well, you know, I mean, I love my laser puppy, but I also really like cats; you know, on the weekends sometimes I volunteer at the cat shelter, and it’s really nice.” Nice callback to her previous livechat!

She made her headphones herself.

Even though she does get jealous of Star’s other friends, she does love that Star has so many fans.

Oh man... she writes stories about her and Star... “All about how me and Star have the best, the best time going to the movies, and going to the beach, and we took a walk, and we rode on a dolphin into the sunset and it was so cool.” Aww.

She likes all animals “and especially--well, maybe not especially, but you know, turtles are on the list.” <3

She doesn’t mind Pony Head (I love how the question was phrased “Do you mind Pony Head?” and not “Do you like Pony Head?” since... Pony Head’s not my fave either), but “Pony Head’s probably, like, number 8 friend on [Star’s] friends list, ‘cause I take up slots 1-7.”

Star’s birthday is on Stump Day. Starfan13 doesn’t know when that is, though.

Her favorite color is purple now!!! Character development <3 I’m so proud of her, admitting to having her own favorite color now.

She plays jazz!

It ended with Pony Head carrying

[pervincetosscobble]

heartlines

TAZ, 2k, Ren character study.

Refuge is home. Ren doesn't want to leave.

[Read on Ao3]

#

Two things happen when Refuge is open to the world again.

First, people leave. There aren’t many people in town who want to leave in the first place, but there’s a steady trickle of families and businesspeople going elsewhere. But secondly - and this is the one that catches Ren by surprise - people move in, build homes and businesses and make their place in Refuge.

“It’s a big canyon,” June says to Ren as they’re closing the bar one night. June is sweeping the floor, and Ren is cleaning glasses, and it’s the most peaceful that The Davy Lamp ever gets. “I know that people want to come here, but why? They could go anywhere.”

“There’s something special about Refuge,” Ren answers. “Plenty of people come here. You and I both came here from the outside.”

June pauses in her sweeping. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“I was brought here.” June turns away, and Ren feels guilty for an instant. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought up something so touchy. “And you came here from somewhere else.”

Ren can’t really argue with that. The Underdark wasn’t exactly a good place to grow up, but she found her way out to the light. Fought her way out, really, but even with all that June has seen, Ren’s not ready to go into that. “But everyone deserves the chance to settle down somewhere.”

“Yeah.” June starts sweeping again, a little more forcefully. “But why here?”

“Why not here?”

“Because it’s tiny, and our sheriff is a bird, and most of the people who live here have already died a few hundred times.”

“That part doesn’t bother me so much.”

“Which part?”

Ren considers that. “Any of it.”

“Really?”

“It’s not the worst place I’ve ever lived,” Ren reminds her. “And I understand why people want to come here. People want to be a part of what we have. We feel at home here.”

“You do,” June mutters.

Ren stares. “June, do you want to leave?”

“No.”

“June.”

“Maybe?” June sighs, turning her back to Ren. “It’s not like I’m going to pack up and leave, but there’s a whole world out there, and I was too young to remember living in it before the stranger brought us here. I want to explore.”

“That’s fair,” Ren says, and she means it.

June looks back at Ren gratefully. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you come with me?”

Ren bites her lip. She doesn’t know how to answer that with both truth and tact, but her face must be answer enough.

June’s face falls. “You wouldn’t?”

“I’ve already seen the world,” Ren says, as gently as she can. “I saw a lot of Faerun between the Underdark and here, and this is my favorite place that I’ve been. The people are good here, and good people are coming here.”

“Are they?”

“We’ll make sure they end up good. We’re not going to change, June.”

June grimaces. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she answers, and goes back to sweeping.

#

Ren wouldn’t describe what’s happening to Refuge as gentrification, per se, but that might be as close to accurate as she can get. It’s not like the town’s values are changing radically, and Ren likes to think that they wouldn’t let that change happen, but the world moved on while they were in a bubble. Refuge is still a handful of years behind the rest of the world, in technology and all, and the changes are coming to them.

It doesn’t change business too much, which is… good, mostly. Ren gets better at cooking instead of just tending bar, and it turns out that June isn’t half bad with the customers. The two of them make a good team, and they get visitors pretty consistently. And it’s fine. Everything is fine.

It’s really easy to get tired of “fine,” Ren learns quickly.

June doesn’t leave, but Ren can see she wants to. June talks to every customer from out of town and asks about what it’s like, where they’re from, what’s different, what’s new. She’s almost an adult, and Ren knows she won’t stay forever, even if she wanted to. That girl always deserved more than what this town had to offer her.

Ren was never like that. She was always happy to settle in with a few dozen other people and make them happy. It’s better than the Underdark ever was, and she doesn’t feel stuck, but things feel slow. It happens sometimes, and she knows that change will come and change things, and she’s willing to wait.

Change, as it turns out, shows up riding a rainbow horse with two horns on a Friday afternoon. Ren’s in the back of the bar balancing the books, so she wouldn’t know what was going on if it weren’t for the way June suddenly shouts, “Taako!”

Ren stands up from behind her desk, banging her knee against the side in the process. “Shit!” she yelps, and immediately smooths her hair down. There’s no helping the knee, but she needs to look good for her hero.

She can hear Taako’s voice before she even makes it outside, just the way it was when he was in Refuge last year, and the Underdark before that. “Have you done something with your hair?”

“You haven’t seen me in a year,” June answers, and Ren has to stifle a laugh. “A lot more has changed than just my hair.”

“Teenagers,” Taako huffs. His eyes slide over to Ren, and his smile widens. He looks tired, a little more haggard than he did before, but he’s still holding his head high. “I don’t know how you deal with one all the time, they’re nightmares. ”

“She’s not so bad,” Ren says, and pulls Taako into a hug. He goes all stiff, like he wasn’t expecting it, but he relaxes before long, and Ren smiles. “How’ve you been?”

“Ren, my friend, I’ve had a really shitty few months, so I’m treating myself. And also you. How fast can you go get changed?”

Ren blinks. “Into what?”

“Something you can go out in. We both cook, and all chefs deserve fancy dinner made by somebody else.” Taako pauses. “And also a lot of wine.”

“I don’t know, The Davy Lamp-”

“I can watch it,” June says quickly.

Ren frowns. “June, you can’t serve alcohol.”

“Everybody here knows me, it’s not like they’ll mind. And you deserve a night off.”

“Hell yeah, you do,” Taako says. “Come on, let’s hit the road.”

Ren bites her lip. She hasn’t left The Davy Lamp on a business day since she opened it, but June has worked there for years, and she knows it’d be in good hands. “Give me ten minutes to change?”

“I only last an hour, yo,” says the majestic rainbow horse behind Taako.

Taako rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to him, I have spell slots for days. Take your time, go get fancy, we’re gonna have a gooooood time.” He shimmies his hips, and Ren notices for the first time that he’s wearing a cocktail dress that’s significantly nicer than almost everything she owns.

“My hair’s going to be a mess,” she warns him, just in case.

“Wear a hat, it’ll be fine.”

“You have that one hat,” June adds, “the beret? You could do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Berets are very in right now,” Taako says reassuringly. “Go on, I wanna get wasted on fine wine and good pasta.”

Ren beams. “Yeah, that sounds like a good time.”

#

Taako offers his arm to Ren as they approach the restaurant. “You might as well get the full experience of being fancy,” he says decisively.

Ren’s idea of fancy is essentially The Davy Lamp, so she decides to take his word for it and loop her arm through his. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because if I spent one more minute with the fuckers I work with, I was going to kill something, and I thought this would be more fun,” he answers airily. He flicks a hand at the doors to the restaurant, which swing open. “Walk in like you’re a star.”

Ren decides, just for the purposes of the exercise, to pretend she’s Taako as she walks in. She’s never been a star, but she mimics his stride, and holds her head a little higher than normal. Taako bumps a hip against hers, and she can’t help but smile.

The hostess smiles at them as they approach, only for her jaw to drop. “Oh m-”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Taako says, “and yes, we would like outdoor seating.”

The hostess looks between the two of them, eyes widening. “This is- this is an honor!”

“You’ve got a celebrity in your midst,” Ren says, nudging Taako. He grins and nudges her back.

“Two master chefs in our restaurant in one night,” the hostess says, practically wringing her hands. “This is a truly exceptional- I’ll have to let the chef know, you understand, he’ll come out and talk to you-”

“Who’s the second chef?” Ren asks. She can’t help it; she’s sure it’s uncool or un-starlike, but if there’s someone else famous here, she might as well meet them.

“I’m the first, obviously,” Taako says. Ren nods her agreement.

The hostess looks confused, but she looks at Ren. “It’s- I’m sorry, you are Ren, aren’t you?”

For a second, Ren is sure that she misheard. She forces herself to blink, and then smile. “I am, yes, but how did you know that?”

“You run that tavern in the canyon?”

“That’s me.”

“The critics have the greatest things to say about you! I’ve never been, but I’d love to-” The hostess pauses and takes a deep breath. “Everyone says your place has fantastic food and atmosphere, that it’s a real gem out there in the middle of nowhere.”

“That’s very generous,” Ren says, because it’s unbelievably generous, “but this is Taako. You know, Taako. ”

“And you’re Ren, ” the hostess answers. “I do need to go speak to the chef about your accommodations, would you mind waiting?”

Taako flaps a hand in the air. “Of course not, darling, take all the time you need.”

The hostess makes her exit, and Ren frowns. “How did she recognize me?”

“Do you really not know?”

Ren shakes her head, and Taako laughs. “You’re a star. You have food critics in and out of your place all the time, and there are a dozen odd reviews saying you’ve got one the best bar food your side of Rockport.”

“And that’s great,” Ren says. “But you’re- you’re an icon, how is that the same as me at all?”

“Do you still have that certificate?”

“Of course,” Ren says, indignant despite herself. “First and only graduate from your school of magic.”

“You’re the only person who ever learned from this icon. You’re one of a kind.” Taako slants a smile at her, a little sidelong, the most genuine smile he’s worn all night. “Refuge looks a lot different now, with all the outside junk leaking into it, but you’re leaking right back into the outside. People notice that.”

Ren looks away, a little shyly. She’s still not sure that she’d put herself on par with Taako - come on, it’s Taako, the man who inspired her and countless others to pursue a career in the restaurant business - but he might have a point there. She’s more than happy to bring some of Refuge to the outside world.

“You really think so?” she says despite herself.

“Sure,” Taako answers. “I mean, yeah, I’ve been around longer, but you’re very popular right now. Might as well embrace it.”

Ren leans a little more comfortably against Taako as the hostess comes back out. “The chef has offered to make a custom meal for the both of you, with outside seating, of course. Follow me this way?”

“Of course,” Ren says. “Taako?”

“After you, Ren,” Taako says.

Ren laughs. “Ever the gentleman,” she says, just dryly enough that Taako snorts, and together they start after the hostess.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 57)

To Weiss’ disappointment, she wasn’t going to be able to manufacture elemental or regular ammo and explosives any time soon.

The Guild, the Forge, and the Roost required that the Terrace certify that she had much more control over her powers, and that certification would take at least six weeks, with three-four visits per week. And with Penny advising her against any more physical or magical exertion in preparation for her first trip tomorrow afternoon, there really was nothing to do but laze around, or watch Blake and Penny finish their costumes in the living room and wait for them to ask for input.

“Want to go see my human disguise?” Ruby offered.

Weiss agreed, and off the two went into their room. Ruby put on her full Keeper of the Grove armour: enchanted cloak, the hood pulled up over her head, and the same mask she'd worn when they'd staged Weiss' death, as intimidating as the real one but without the fear hexes.

“Ready to see my super awesome human disguise, Weiss?” Ruby asked, waggling her eyebrows underneath the mask.

“Don't keep me in suspense!” Weiss replied as she sat in her hammock.

“Okay! Close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so!”

As Weiss obeyed, she wondered just what exactly she would look like, while Ruby giggled in excitement as she put it on.

“You can open your eyes now!”

Weiss did.

“Ta-da!” Ruby cried, throwing her arms out.

She had pulled off her hood and her mask, the latter stashed inside her cloak. She was now wearing a top hat similar to Abner's sans the bullet holes, the tears, and the weathering, so large it completely hid her horns and animal ears.

Weiss stared blankly at her.

“Pretty clever, right?” Ruby asked, waggling her eyebrows again.

Weiss groaned. “Ruby, that is the most stupid, paper-thin disguise I have ever seen in my entire life! It’s just you with a top hat on, who's going to be fooled by that?!”

Knock-knock.

The door opened.

Blake peered in. “Hey Whyss, hau low d'yu--” her eyes widened, and her ears and tail perked to full attention. “Who'err you?!” she cried as she threw the door open and jumped back in fright, her hands in front of her with her claws out.

Penny rushed in, arms and eyes glowing in warning. “Detecting--!” she paused at the doorway, and blinked a few times. “Oh! Hello, Ruby! I'm sorry, your disguise completely fooled my optic sensors!”

Blake whipped her head back and forth between Ruby and Penny, the horror on her face turning into confusion. <That's Ruby…?!> she whispered.

<It's her,> Weiss said with difficulty.

<My magical aura sensors can not be fooled as easily, Blake,> Penny said.

Blake turned to Ruby. She pulled her top hat on and off several times, showing them how she pulled her ears up and stuffed them and her horns underneath.

Blake just stared at her in ever growing disbelief, her face going through a number of expressions, none of them pleasant.

Qrow came up. <The hell is all this—oh, it's just Ruby and her human disguise, got it.>

Weiss looked at Ruby, then at the Fae crowded in the doorway. “Were you guys SERIOUSLY all fooled by that?”

Qrow, Penny, and Blake nodded.

<Excuse me...> Blake muttered as she walked away in a daze. <I just need to… question everything I thought was true...>

“Blake is currently suffering an existential crisis, and needs some time to pick up the pieces of her shattered perception of what is reality,” Penny translated.

Weiss looked at Ruby, who was now holding the hat in her hands, then back at Qrow and Penny. “Are you all fucking with me right now?!”

“I am not trying to deceive you in any way, Weiss,” Penny replied.

“She got me bad the first time she showed it off to me,” Qrow said. “You're probably not freaking out because you two are so close you can always tell it's her in a heartbeat.”

Weiss gritted her teeth. “Never mind… now, before I have to wonder who are these 'mysterious humans' wearing the same costumes as my friends, what are Blake and Penny's disguises like?”

“Blake ties a bow over her ears, and I have a headband with slots cut in to look like my ears are a novelty accessory,” Penny replied.

Weiss stared at her, then at Ruby, unable to speak.

Blake walked back in the doorway, one hand rubbing her temples. <Weiss: how low do you want your skirts?> she asked, her other hand making a line back and forth across her thighs.

Weiss got up off her hammock. <I'll just show you...> she replied in broken Actaeon.

Later that night, Blake finished their costumes, and Weiss' wardrobe had been modified more to her taste: the skirts cut higher over her knees, some with the sleeves and most of the topmost sections removed entirely, with the leftover fabric turned into decoration, or part of her new jackets, coats, and stockings that helped add some extra protection from the elements, natural or magical.

With a curtain set up in the living room for changing and her comm-crystal as a mirror, Weiss dressed up in her new and modified clothes, then showed them off to the others, going through the whole gamut of everyday wear, gowns and outfits for celebrations and special occasions, working clothes, and even some extreme weather gear in case she’d ever find need to venture out of the Bastion and travel to the rest of the Valley.

“Why in the world would I need a thunder wolf fur coat?” Weiss asked as she nuzzled her face into the soft white fluff around the collar. “I mean, I don’t mind, it’s so fluffy I could die, but isn’t this too warm for the Fury and too heavy for the Flood?”

“There’s places here that you’re going to wish you had it if you don't already,” Ruby said. “You might not ever need to go down to the Coldburrow Caverns, but hey: never hurts to be prepared!”

“I've never heard of any place that cold anywhere here in Acropolis,” Weiss replied.

“Plenty of secrets in the Valley, Weiss,” Qrow said. “Lots of them we’re still trying to figure out.”

“If you say so,” Weiss said, shrugging the coat off as she was already beginning to sweat in it.

The impromptu fashion show ended with her Eve of the Ether costume.

Blake had taken all manner of liberties with the design, both because Weiss weaver’s coat was armour first and foremost, and no one thought she would look good with the most popular—and as Weiss' learned then, accurate—depiction of Samaria:

Crouched low to the ground, a repeater in one hand and a hookshot-dagger in the other, both loaded with potent poisons that would ruin the days of anything short of a Soul Eater, with her hood thrown over her head, and only the emerald eyes and “fangs” of her Gila Monster mask peering out from under it.

Weiss’ version was much more regal and dignified: standing proud with Myrtenaster in one hand and her gauntlet in the other; her hair left untied and flowing out from her hood and down her shoulders in carefully brushed locks; her belt of mediums and equipment tied around her waist; and a slit in the front of her dress, with enchanted steel-silk stockings to compensate for the exposure, and some risque elements to it.

Completing the look was her weaver's mask, now modified to look like a mischievous and sinister fox, the eyes an icy blue, and a voice modulator just like the one Ruby had in hers.

She checked herself out for far longer than all the other outfits, making sure that everything was perfect—you never got a second chance at a first impression, after all.

“Come on, princess!” Qrow called out. “Night shift’s coming soon!”

“Yeah, let us see, let us see!” Ruby added.

Weiss sighed, and shut off her crystal. She supposed she had done everything she could… except…

From the outside, the others watched as a cool, frosty mist started to pour out from under the curtain, before Weiss threw it aside, and the fog rushed out to the others.  She stepped out with slow, measured strides, thin layers of ice on her clothes glimmering like jewelry.

Ruby’s jaw dropped.

Weiss smiled as she stepped up to her, carefully put Myrtenaster under her chin, and pushed it back up.

“You’ve got a little something...” she hummed as she daintily tapped the side of her mask, her voice coming out husky, with an unnerving, ethereal echo—a sound that’d send a chill down your spine and a very different sort of shiver elsewhere.

“Holy hell...” Qrow muttered. “Should I start calling you Ice Queen instead, princess?”

The eyes of Weiss’ mask twinkled. “Whatever pleases you, peasant,” she purred.

Qrow chuckled. “Well alright then, your majesty.”

Blake smiled and hummed in pride, giving her two thumbs up.

Penny beamed. “You look very intimidating and attractive, Weiss!”

“You guys really think so...?”

“Hell yeah!” Ruby said, a line of drool still running down the side of her mouth. “You look hot, Weiss!”

Weiss felt her face heat up. “Thanks... but could you hold back on the compliments when we're in public? I don’t want things to get... weird.”

“What’s so weird about me telling you how good you look...?”

“People might think we’re actually a couple, when it’s just our costumes,” Weiss replied. “And before any of you ask: I only agreed to this because it’d be cheaper and easier for Blake, alright?” she said, pointing Myrtenaster at the others.

After Penny translated, all of them nodded.

“Glad we got that cleared up,” Weiss said, before she dispelled her magic, and took off her mask. “Hey, Ruby? Can we talk some more in our room?”

“Sure!” Ruby said, getting up off the couch. “But better make it quick, most of us are leaving for the night shift soon!” she said as she headed there.

“I’ll skip changing until after, then,” Weiss said as she followed after her.

Qrow waited until the door to their room was shut. When it didn’t look like either of them were stepping out soon, he turned to the others, and whispered, <Is Weiss fucking with us, or does she just have one of the most impressive cases of denial I have ever seen in my entire life?>

<It feels like there's some sadistic author teasing us with Unresolved Sexual Tension for as long as they possibly can,> Blake grumbled.

<The disconnect between what my sensors detect, the evidence I have on record, and what she claims to believe is indeed jarring,> Penny said. <But didn’t her father also take quite a while to realize he was really more interested in Summer than Raven?>

<That was with my sister distracting him, and as far as I know, there isn’t anyone else trying to melt the Ice Queen’s heart,> Qrow replied. <Well, unless I missed one or the both of you making your own moves...>

Blake wrinkled her nose. <Ugh. I am DONE with romance for a LONG while, until I’m sure I won’t make such a horrible mistake ever again...>

<For a variety of reasons, I’m not romantically interested in Weiss, either,> Penny replied. <Besides, she’s really not my ‘type.’>

Meanwhile, in Ruby and Weiss' room...

“Could you give me a minute to gather my thoughts?” Weiss asked as she put away her mask and equipment.

“Sure!” Ruby replied. “I’ll just be in my nest.”

“Thanks,” Weiss replied.

She had thought that she’d have a well-articulated, thoughtful speech all ready to go by the time she put away her mediums in a locked box, but she still had absolutely nothing by the time she sat down in front of Ruby.

A long, awkward silence passed as they just looked at each other, Weiss fidgeting and feeling her face grow warm.

There were so many things she could have asked her to lead up to her actual question, make the transition smoother.

She could have asked how she felt about everyone assuming she and her were a couple and getting intimate (and on a regular basis, no less), how she felt about learning that Weiss was a lesbian, too, and how she felt about everyone but Zwei walking on them in compromising situations.

She could have asked why she so readily offered to snuggle with her to make her feel better, what she really thought when she noticed Weiss’ more interesting reactions to her massaging her, why she lent her the Summer plushie even if it was obviously as precious to her as the Eluna plushie was to her.

She could have even tried to get some more information straight from the source, asked her why if human/Fae relationships were such a taboo for the rest of their society, why was everyone so unquestionably supportive and enthusiastic of them, just because Ruby was the Keeper?

“You want to try this again tomorrow morning, Weiss?” Ruby asked. “I really need to get ready soon.”

“Do you like me?” Weiss blurted. “As in, do you want me to be your girlfriend? Hold hands in public, and kiss, and...” she tried to make a sexy animal noise.

Ruby snickered.

Weiss frowned and blushed.

“Sorry.”

“Well?” Weiss asked. “Do you...?”

“Yes,” Ruby replied.

Weiss blinked. “… What do you mean, ‘Yes’?” she asked, her cheeks burning brighter red.

“I mean, ‘Yes,’ I like you, I want to be your girlfriend, I want to hold your hand in public, kiss you, and--” she made a sexy animal noise--”with you.”

Weiss stared at her, mouth slowly falling open.

“I'm being completely honest with you, Weiss, because I really, really, really like you, and more than that, I hate lying,” Ruby said before she got up and went to the equipment rack.

“If Aunt Raven hadn’t lied to dad, if dad hadn’t lied to mom, and if Uncle Qrow hadn’t lied to the Council and the other Watchers, then maybe they wouldn’t be dead, and he wouldn’t have had to raise me alone all these years,” she said as she put her cloak on.

She picked up the Keeper’s mask, currently wrapped up in a magic-proof cloth. “And besides: I’ve watched enough holos to know that whenever someone is attracted to someone else, and they decide to keep it a secret, it just makes things all weird and awkward between them, and they all find out in the end, especially when it’s going to make things even weirder and more awkward between them than if they just came clean in the first place.”

Ruby picked up her scythe, then turned to Weiss. “Why would you even do that to yourself...?”

“...”

“I need to go, Weiss,” Ruby said, as she opened the door. “Good night.”

“… Good night, Ruby...” Weiss muttered, long after the door had closed behind her.

Penny was the only one left in the house with Weiss, and the two of them busied themselves with picking up and hauling her clothes both old and new into her and Ruby's room.

“I'm detecting a higher than normal level of stress hormones in your system, and a dramatic downwards shift in your mood beside, Weiss,” she said as they worked. “Is something the matter?”

“Yeah...” Weiss replied. “I… really need to ask Ruby to build some trunks or wardrobes one of these days, this place is a mess...”

Penny frowned, clearly unconvinced, before she nodded and said, “I'll inform her for you, and see what materials we can spare for it.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Weiss said.

Penny left to maintain herself before charging up in preparation for tomorrow. Weiss spent a long time laying in her hammock, gently rocking back and forth, the Summer plushie left in Ruby’s nest. Eventually, she fell asleep and found herself back in the dreamscape.

This night, it was just the blank white expanse.

Her grandparents walked up from behind, Nick put a rough, calloused hand on her shoulder. “You want to talk about it, sweetheart?” he asked.

“No...” Weiss replied. “Grandpa, grandma? Can you guys please leave? I... need to be alone right now...”

They nodded somberly.

“Call if you need us, we’ll be around,” Nick said, before walked away, and faded into nothing.

“We love you, Weiss—no matter what happens,” Freya said, before she did the same.

Now all alone, Weiss sat down, and began to think.