#went back to get two more bags finally to do a larger batch and

[milkconfetti]

really love when i try a New Product and really like it and then it ends up having either zero quality control or the quality control gets drastically slashed after they determine enough people have tried it lol

#i make my own potting mixes and like #for the soil component i tried using miracle gro tropical mix #and loved it like it had huge chunks of lava rock and a nice mix of soil and moss #went back to get two more bags finally to do a larger batch and #both bags were like 90% moss with some microscopic lava rock pieces scattered in #like i don't expect out of the bag mixes to have enough drainage obv this is why i mix my own BUT #the first time i tried it they were at least...significant enough that i could see them on the surface of the soil... #like in the final mix #now with this new batch they aren't even visible unless you dig eeeeeeeeee

[tiesthatbind-tf]

A lad finally gets some of that coveted spotlight!

Benjamin Bane (just Ben or Benji, thanks) may be the youngest of the active Autobot team as their sprightly scout who’s got a chip on his shoulder he wants to hurl into the next Functionist or Decepticon picking on him for his size, and who’s been through quite a bit despite his age, if the burn on his left arm, the slide bite on his right hand  and the multitude of old cigarette burns he’s reluctant to explain are anything to go by.

When not on the field, he’s an avid dancer (with a love for ballet, something he could only pursue in secret until recently, and something which forms the core of his offensive style) and a good enough artist that he, alongside Mirage, are the two assigned to decorate armor for the team.

His smiley, chirpy facade hides quite a couple of issues, including PSTD and self-esteem issues, anxiety attacks, and an urge to please those he trusts even if it comes at his detriment.

More to his story below. (TW for child abuse)

Benjamin Bane (Bumblebee) would be hard-pressed to come up with a single good memory concerning his biological family during his childhood, and not for the lack of trying.

Born to an upper middle-class family in New York comprising a bullish, hot-tempered police sergeant father and a housewife mother, he grew up in the shadow of the son his father, who came from a family of law enforcers, wanted him to be in order to carry on the family legacy.

That he was a gentle, bubbly, sensitive child who loved following his mother around in the kitchen and spending his free time drawing did not bode well for the image his father wished to portray, and it didn’t take long for the discipline intended to mold him into a ‘man’ to become horrifically physical when he was barely five.

His mother, already used to his old man’s temper and quick hand, would often step in to take the punishment meant for him whenever he did something undesirable, though she couldn’t save Ben from the man’s wrath completely, and by the time he was nine, he was never seen without a hoodie in school and had perfected every excuse he’d been told to repeat when asked why he could not take it off or why he would come in on some days with a split lip.

He was small for his size, quiet, and took great pains not to be noticed, which had the opposite effect of making him the target of every other larger child looking to blow off steam, and he became good at running.

Really good.

There was no running from home however, home where the walls were insulated so neighbours wouldn’t hear what was happening within, and while some days would be better than others, there wasn’t a moment that he didn’t break into a cold sweat whenever he heard his father’s footsteps approaching his room.

With his mother unable to bear more children due to an illness, his father furiously continued with the campaign (sometimes the carrot was used  though mostly it was the stick) to mold him into the son the man wanted, so he could make the cut during the streaming process prior to high school where students would be sorted into their future occupational classes.

What support he might have had from his mother in his young years also evaporated, as she pushed him to be the son his father needed him to be to keep the peace, putting the weight of the household’s sanctity on his slight  shoulders.

He was forced into marksmanship lessons (where his first attempt to fire a gun went awry and left him with a deep slide bite wound), multiple self-defence classes to toughen him up (helpful for bullies whenever they didn’t come in packs), and a series of workouts to encourage a growth spurt so he could catch up to other potential cadet  candidates.

The little sliver of hope that he would be good enough to make the junior police  cadets went up in smoke when he was assigned to the manual class instead, owing to his size and his visceral aversion to handling firearms.

Branded as worthless and only good for paying off the ‘debt’ accumulated from the classes his father had earlier forced him into, Ben entered high school with his self-esteem scrapping at topsoil and digging deeper, and had it not been for a chance encounter with another boy who was evading a group of military-classed students intending to instil a lesson about talking back to those higher in the hierarchy, it might have dug itself into a grave.

The boy, who introduced himself as Guillermo ‘Memo’ Gutierrez after Ben dutifully sent the bullies scattering, was also assigned to the manual class and both of them  decided to stick together for safety in numbers.

Ben had ruefully accepted his lot in life after years of being broken and beaten down. Memo, however, had a loving and supportive family; this kept the spark of his defiance to the system alive and he kindled it in Ben’s by giving his friend a safe space to escape to whenever the situation at Ben’s home became too intense.

Among Memo and Memo’s family was the first time where Ben opened up about his interests, could speak freely and found acceptance for what he liked and who he was.

The desire to reclaim the things he loved pushed him to seek out part-time work, which he eventually found after befriending a girl, Charlie Watson, who had helped put an end to the harassment he and Memo endured at school by playing the hierarchy to their favour and wielding her Navy ‘prime-pick’ status.

That she actually wanted nothing to do with the class she was pushed into (Navy) and wished to pursue a career in automotives despite parental objections was something that she and Ben bonded over, and she brought him to the scrapyard her uncle ran where he found work sorting out car parts and helping perform repairs.

He began to pursue art and dance in secret with part of his pay (keeping his sketchbooks and supplies at Memo’s place and taking dance lessons under the guise of after-class study sessions), while saving up the rest and planning for the day he would eventually break free of his father, ‘debt’ or no ‘debt’.

During this time, he subtly packed away important items and was careful not to anger his old man more than his mere presence already did on a good day——something which would become increasingly hard when the Clampdown began.

He would hear his father rant over the dinner table about how ungrateful the protesters who were made up mostly of the Manual Class were, how they weren’t worth the safety net they were demanding for the job they were doing, how they needed to know their place.

He would hear, as time went by, about how his father would beat the ones who were arrested, and more than once, how he would be killed if he, as the man’s son, ever did something as stupid and insolent as that.

He bit his tongue through all this and reluctantly refused Memo’s offer to join a peaceful protest for better wages and workplace compensation.

The protest turned violent after police assaulted those taking part however, and as he watched the news hoping to see if Memo was alright, he saw his friend among those who were tossed into the dreaded black vans to be brought over to stations for interrogation.

His father, fielding a call from a colleague about the batch of protesters being brought in, told them to separate the adults from the teenagers, who would be easier to break, and it was at this point Ben’s spark turned into a bonfire.

As his father got dressed for work, he crept into the man’s study and managed to figure out the combination to the safe where the man’s gun was kept, retrieving it and aiming it at the police sergeant who came in and demanded for him to stand down.

Ben, in turn, demanded for his father to call the station and have Memo released, and when his father laughed at his audacity, mocked the way his hands shook while he was holding the gun and threatened to beat him senseless once this was all over, he shot the man close enough to the head to clip an ear to prove a point, before repeating his demand again.

This time, his father complied and called the station to order for Memo’s release; Ben’s relief however was all the momentary lapse of guard that his father needed to rush in and attempt to wrest the gun back, and in the struggle, he accidentally shot his father in the knee.

Under the hail of threats on how he was going to die once his father got hands on him, Ben flung the gun where the man could not reach, grabbed one of the bags he had secretly packed and ran out of the house to the screams of his mother.

He called Charlie and explained the situation to her, as both of them made their way to the station where his father worked to pick up Memo, who was confused about the state of affairs.

At 18 years, Ben was now a fugitive who could no longer go home; Memo brought him to the manual class district where Ben could hide among allies, and it was here that he spent a few months in hiding, disguised as a manual worker.

However, still fully terrified at the thought of his father eventually hunting him down within the confines of the city, he made plans to leave and head to the West Coast, far away from any chance that he would meet his old man by accident on the streets.

To his surprise,  Charlie and Memo elected to join him in the move, and the three of them left together on a  Greyhound bus; Him to escape his father, Charlie to escape her future with a military complex which her father died for and Memo to protect his family after he was named a person of interest in the protest.

However, they were forced to stop in Texas when police were inspecting passing buses for runaway Cold Constructs. Here, they met Ian Hart (Ironhide), a rancher secretly helping Cold  Constructs escape ownership by crossing over into Mexico to start new lives.

Ian, seeing how they ran from the bus, assumed they were young Cold Constructs and immediately took them in and offered them shelter; when they explained their situation, he kept his offer, letting them stay until they had their plans sorted out and paying them for work done on his ranch in the meantime.

All three of them grew fond of him and spent a month working on his ranch, helping out equally between his longhorn cattle and the Cold Constructs who would come in scared, starving, and seeking refuge from bounty hunters looking to bring them back to the establishments they were assigned to.

Someone however, had gotten wind of Ian’s clandestine operation, and the man was arrested during a midnight raid, though not before he flung Ben, Charlie and Memo into a secret basement with three Cold Constructs who he told them to help cross the border the next day.

They did as they were told, but decided to return to the ranch to figure out how to help Ian, and when they came back there, it was to come face to face with two strangers who were also seeking Ian after seeing him on the news.

These strangers introduced themselves as Omar Parvez (Optimus Prime), Jace Zayden (Jazz) and Preston Wan (Prowl), members of a rebellion that had sprung up in the UK, and upon hearing that they had been with Ian for the past month, requested for their help in tracking the man down to save him from a terrible fate at the hands of government interrogators.

Realising that they were now caught up in something bigger than they ever imagined, Ben nonetheless accepted the request, unwilling to stand back and do nothing while a good man suffered.

Youth, size and a lifetime of abuse would not be an obstacle to him helping someone else, especially with his best friends  by his side.

#Maccadam #Humanformers #Bumblebee #Optimus Prime #charlie watson #memo gutierrez #Character Art #tw: abuse #tw: child abuse #tw: gun mention

[noritoshiikamo]

Headcanons for the cursed womb siblings when they ship you and choso please 🌝 but choso is like a “job first, love later” kind of guy. He is responsible👏 He wants to support his siblings first👏 But they want nothing more than for their brother to have a lover.

modern au! office worker choso x reader no warning, just fluff. death painting brothers are normal humans, choso is just oblivious, reader is in love anywaysssss okay, i know it said headcanon but i went overboard and i cant help it anymore, choso brainrot tagging: @booksweet , @fushigurocockslut, @lazy10ieiri, @sassyeahhhh, @cotton-curse, @thevoidwriting, @dukinaxael

- job first, love later

you were the first girl choso ever brought home.

except it was by accident. your car had broken down in front of the office and you being typically you, had no idea what had happened to your shit car. “stupid, stupid!” you cursed, opening the front of your car, watching as puff of smoke escaped. you panicked, you never had anyone told you what to do with your car and such.

you were the only child in your family, your mother passed away when you were just a child and your father disappeared. you were sent away to a distance relative, the gojo where you grew up with satoru and his adoptive brother, megumi. but they are useless as a lump of coal. “y/n, are you okay?” you whipped up your head, wiping the dripping sweat off your worried head as you were greeting by a familiar face.

“oh, choso, thank god, do you know anything about car? i cant figure out why wont it start,” you cried clutching on his white sleeve before shrieking. you watched at your fingers left black smudges on his shirt, panicked overwhelmed you as you realised you just ruined the chance for help by ruining your savior’s shirt. but choso only laughed, brushing your panicked look aside and handed you his briefcase. “how long has it been like this?” he asked as he rolled his sleeves, you shrugged. “10 minutes? i think.”

“do you have any cloth i can use to check the coolant?” he asked. you nodded and headed to back, throwing the briefcase in the backseat. coming back with an old rag, you were surprise when choso grabbed your wrists. your face warmed up as he twisted and turned your hand, “did the steam hit your hand?” he asked, glancing up to your face. you shook your head and handed him the cloth. you watched as he did his thing, in 5 minutes he had the engine running and the temperature meter down.

“please, cho, let me sent you home. as a thank you!”

he smiled, “you don’t have too, i can take the subway.”

“i insisted!” you exclaimed, “plus i have your briefcase! aha, you need it so if you want it you have to let me drive you home. please?” you insisted, throwing a puppy face as you clutched both hands to your chest. he exhale heavily, before holding out his hand. your brow shot up in confusion, you placed your hand on his larger palm. you looked up to the older man, a small smile on his face. he was holding his laugh. “your car keys, y/n. lemme me drive you home at least,” he clarified, causing you to mentally slap yourself. the keys exchanged hands and you get in the passenger’s seat. he's a careful driver, he used the blinker and didn’t speed, you felt instantly safe under his care.

“do you live alone, choso?” you asked your coworker. he shook his head, “i live with my younger brothers, eso and chizu. our parents died a long time ago.”

“oh, same. my parents died a long time ago. i’m their only child. my uncle took me in, he’s like a brother to me,” you explained, reminded of your childhood growing up with satoru. he might not be an ideal father figure but he loves you like his own sister. the car slowed down in front of block A of some apartment. “you live here?” you asked glancing around. his apartment is definitely on the lower class scale, the building looks like it could be hundred years old with the chipped paint.

“yeah, i’ve been raising my brothers alone. money’s a bit tight, they are still studying,” he explained grabbing his case from the back. “thank you for helping me with my car,” you stopped him, placing your hand on his, “please let me replace your shirt. just tell me the brand and i’ll buy a new one, i’m so sorry.”

choso offered her a smile, waving his hand dismissively. “it’s okay, i can get the grease off easily. i should thank you for the ride instead. i owe you for that.”

“in that case, can i see your home?”

choso looked at you in amusement, his hand reached forward to ruffled your head, “you’re weird, y/n. but okay. a cup of tea won’t hurt.” he was sure that none of his siblings are home, parked the car and let you trailed him as you both entered the lift up to the 5th floor. you didn’t seemed to be bothered by the surrounding, the stray cats and the random pile of garbage, eyes only trained on his back as you trailed him. his house were around the corner of the stairs, further from the elevator with number 532 on the blue door. he pulled out his keys but the door was already opened.

“chizu won’t throw out the trash,” a shirtless guy with a mohawk greeted them, he was instead more surprised to see you hiding behind the man, “oh, who is this?”

“my coworker. she drove me home, i offered her some tea. i thought you two aren't home, clearly i was mistaken,” he mumbled, annoyed that his brothers were actually home. he turned to you who was looking away, he could see speckle of warmth on your face. "y/n, this is eso. eso, go be a decent human being and put on some shirt," choso ushered the man away before calling you in. you could see panic in his face when eso instead announced that choso was bring his girlfriend home to the other brother.

you couldn't help but to laugh.

-

you stood in front of door 532 ringing the door bell.

you could hear some yelling. someone was telling to get the door, someone yelled that they were busy in the bathroom and someone was angry in the kitchen. you felt conscious, maybe this was a bad time. you placed the paper bag on the floor and prayed you can make it to the stair but door opened. a voice greeted you.

"y/n?"

your steps halted. you turned around, flustered that you got caught. choso stood by the door, apron covering half of his bare body with a spatula in the other. "uh hi, i was just here to drop you something," you pointed to the bag on the floor, absolutely refusing to look up, why is he being so attractive in that stupid apron for, you cussed, "i'm sorry for disturbing your sunday, i'll go."

"is that y/n?" a voice in the background called.

choso looked back and nodding, "yup, it is her." you could see the desperate look on his face before another head popped out from the door. it was his younger brother chizu. he took a bite of the pancake, a wide smile on his face, "what's up, big sis?" the boy with the blue hair greeted her. you shrugged, pointing to the bag that's now in choso's hand. "i was just dropping something, i don't want to disturb your sunday," you shook your head but chizu insisted that you stay for breakfast.

"come on big sis, choso rarely bring any girl over, it actually is exciting to finally talk to someone who isn't as annoying as eso," chizu laced his arm around yours and dragged you through the door. you look at choso for help, the man could only shoot you a sympathetic smile before shutting the door. he followed you, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen as he watched you sat by the table. eso started filling your plate with fresh batch of pancakes while chizu started talking about this band he started to listen. you listened to it attentively, thanking eso for the syrup before he took a seat beside you.

choso took a peak of the paper bag, a small smile on his face when he realised there's a brand-new shirt in it with a sticky note on top of it. i'm sorry, hope this one fits you- the note said. he looked up to back to the table, you started to look like you belong there. the house has always been empty, it was just him and his brothers. you're just like a bouquet of fresh flowers sitting in a vase in the middle of the table; breath of fresh air to the kusozu family.

"pancakes, choso?"

your voice disturbed his thoughts. "tchh, choso, why you're looking at y/n-chan like that?" eso threw a spoon playfully at the older sibling as he walked to the table, "say, y/n, choso didn't do anything sexual to you or anything right? as your brother i'm worried," your eyes widened as you choked on your drink. chaos ensued in the house as choso threatened to murder the middle child, chizu could only sit back and enjoyed as you tried to calm him down while eso's obnoxious laugh echoed the small apartment.

"you better apologize, you broomhead or i'll murder you!"

eso stuck out his tongue, dodging the flying cup, "never!"

-

"i got something for chizu. would you mind giving it to him?"

you peaked your head in his office, waving another paperbag in hand. choso took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, "you don't have to spoil my brothers, y/n. they are already a brat without you." you rolled your eyes and placed the bag on his pile of paperworks. "my younger brother, gumi- he knew the band's drummer, y'know the band he's been talking about and got a signed album for me. i'm not a fan so i figured chizu would've enjoyed it better than me." he peaked through the paper bag, a small smile on his face as he thanked you. you both sat in silence, you felt like you were disturbing the man so you excused yourself.

"y/n," your hand froze on the handle, "how can i pay up for everything nice you've done to us? i feel like it's unfair that you're doing all this nice things and i don't want to owe you anything." your turn and watched as the man walked close to you. choso looks handsome as usual, the blue tie matched his eyes while his slightly longer hair is slicked back. you recognized the shirt he's wearing, you bought it for him and it was nice of him to wear it to work.

"would like to go for a coffee with me?" you asked boldly.

"it's a date."

-

"it's not a date," choso sighed, combing his hair back.

"it is," eso crossed his arms on his chest, "she asked for a coffee and you said it's a date. bro, it is a date." the younger brother shook his head, motioned for him to part his hair. "slicked back make you look like you're going to office, yuck. if we wanna impressed big sis, you gotta look better than this."

"it's still not a date," choso protested, "it's just a coffee meet up."

the doorbell rang.

"yeah, it's not a date when you spend an hour worrying over your hair, cho," chizu ran to the front door, waiting at the door was you. you didn't have to go up and fetch him at the door, but you actually enjoyed meeting his brothers you didn't mind the hassle anymore. "damn, y/n, you dress better when you're not going to office," chizu complemented you. you could only shake your head, pocketing your hands in the plaid skirt that fell just at your knees, "i only dress up to important stuff, job sucks ass, i ain't spending my good outfits going to work," you kicked off your boots and walked in.

"you listen to that cho, at least she knew that this that is important!"

your eyes widened at his word and the younger brother dodged your fist easily. choso peaked through the door, a smile grew on his face when his eyes caught yours, "huh, i didn't realise we are going to colour coordinate," he said, stepping out. you realised that you both had accidentally matched each other's outfit, speckles of warmth spread all over your face when you noticed how it looks like. chizu, being the loose lip took the words right out of your head, "you both look like you're dating."

"we are not dating!" both of you exclaimed immediately only for eso and chizu to share a look.

"stop that," choso warned, disappearing into the kitchen, "tea, y/n?" you yelled a yes before following him. "don't mind them, they are being an idiot." you watched as he poured sugar in a cup with teabag, before putting the kettle on. "i don't mind," you shrugged it off, fidgeting nervously with the corner of your blouse. the comforting silence that engulfed both of you were short lived.

"oh, choso, i actually want to tell you that i like you!"

chizu's soft voice easily imitated your voice, something you took offended off. you turned around to see the two brothers perched on the kitchen hatch. "i do not sound like that!" you gasped. it was eso's turn, coming through with his rendition of choso.

"oh, y/n! i like you too, but i'm just dumbass and refuse to admit my feeling!"

"i will not hesitate to sent you back to mom and dad," choso warned.

"i also think that eso is way good looking that i am, but i'm scared that he will swoop you away from me," eso continued, at this point even you couldn't hold your laughter as you pressed your palm over your mouth. "what you laughing for, y/n?" choso's eyes narrowed as he glanced at you, huffing in annoyance. "hey! don't be mad at me for laughing, he did it well." you could see his own cheeks growing redder and redder with every mocking.

"go away, boys," you shushed them, walking to choso's side as he poured the hot water in the cup. resting against the counter, you thanked him when the cup exchanged hands, looking down on the swirling liquid that you didn't realise choso's fingers hooking under your chin, tilting your face up. all you realised was his soft lips against yours.

you are kissing your coworker in his kitchen.

"cho-" you whispered between the kiss but he hushed you, his hand now resting against your waist pulling your closer, deepening his kiss, "don't mind them." you tasted like your chapstick, his kiss was soft but it was enough to leave you breathless in his arms. you look in each other's eyes, a new realization to what had just happened had you both flustered.

"god, if our shit imitation would've finally made you both realise that you two dumbass like each other, we would've done this months ago," eso snickered. the two brothers had moved from the hatch to the table, heads resting on hands watching the new lovebird. "would you mind waiting for 5 minutes while i murder my brother? i promise it won't take long, then we'll continue with our date," choso asked quietly, brushing a stray hair off your cheek as you brought the mug to your lips, hiding the small smile behind the cup as you nodded. you watched amusingly, sipping on your tea as the two brothers ran around the small apartment, yelling profanities while chizu hugged you.

"welcome to the family, big sis."

you ruffled his blue hair, your cheeks hurt but you just couldn't stop smiling, "if it wasn't to you, i don't think i wouldn't even dare to speak my feelings. so, thank you. the voice acting was shit tho."

"you thank us, you hate us, geez, big sis, make up your mind," chizu teased you, winking as he brushed it off as a joke, "you help us a lot, i never seen choso so happy before. he worries a lot. about us, money. it was good sometimes to see him put himself first," chizu shrugged, cheek resting on your shoulder, "we survived before, we'll survive now. choso has nothing to worry about. you too, we are alright, okay?"

you nodded, resting your cheek on his head, heart overwhelmed with love for you newly found family, you felt belonged here.

#writing: request answered #writing: fics #choso #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso imagine

[cora-vizsla]

Cabur Chapter 3

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: Talk of strict parents. Swearing. Drinking alcohol. Talk of sex. Smut. Dominant/submissive undertones. Unprotected sex and talk of how reckless that is because you should always use protection. Just a tiny bit of fluff.

AN: I start classes on Monday so I wanted to get out as much as possible. It’s a long chapter but a lot also happens in it. If I missed any tags please let me know!

You helped Din carry everything inside and set him up in your room. He had tried to argue but with him having an ad’ika you felt like he needed the privacy. Once everything was sat down you saw large ears poke out from his bag and your smile was almost painful.

“Who is this?”

He looked down and sighed, nodding at the small creature. It reached for you and you picked it up and it cooed loudly. You giggled and both men tilted their head to the side as if asking you what was wrong with you. It reached its small hand out and touched your helmet.

“What is its name?”

“I’m not sure what his name is.”

“He was your bounty?”

“Yes. Now I’ve been tasked to find his people.”

“What happens if you can’t find them?”

“Then we are a clan of two.”

You held the small creature to your chest and looked down into his big black eyes. He was cute, that was for sure.

“Does he need to eat? What does he eat?”

“Frogs. Anything he can get ahold of.”

Paz barked out a laugh and Din tensed. You brought him over to the kitchen area and started pointing at things. He finally reached out for a can of fish, so you opened it for him. It smelled but he seemed thrilled with it.

“There is a stream close to here. I can go to the village and get you fresh fish. How does that sound?”

He cooed at you and you rest your forehead on his. He shut his eyes and cuddled into you. You ignored the two other Mandalorians in the house and focused on Dins ad’ika.

“He likes you.”

“I like him!”

You glanced up at the two and they were staring at you.

“Why don’t you two go out on the porch. You can take your helmets off. The villagers won’t come near when it’s getting close to dark. I’ll cook and watch the ad’ika.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Din. He is safe with me.”

“I know he is. He can just.. be a handful.”

“He’s my buddy, right sweetheart?”

His face lit up and he touched your helmet again. Din sighed and walked outside. Paz shut the door and looked at you.

“I got the impression you were going to talk to me.”

“I always talk to you, Paz.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We can talk later, okay? Go with your brother. I need space for a little while.”

He nodded and went outside, shutting the door behind him just a little too rough. You set the child on the counter and clapped.

“Alright, kiddo. What do we want for dinner?”

You slipped your gloves off and started to dig through the supplies. You sighed realizing you didn’t have as much as you wish you had. Suddenly a gentle touch skimmed across your hand and you looked down to see the child shutting his eyes and touching you. The image of soup came to mind and the flashes of Din ordering soup for him often. Another image of Din sipping soup under his helmet in a way that the child couldn’t see his face. The child wondered what his savior looked like. You gasped and he moved his hand, looking up at you.

“You use the force, don’t you little one.”

He smiled at you with his sharp little teeth.

“I can make soup, ad’ika. Tomorrow I’ll get you fresh fish to eat, yeah?”

He giggled and you got to working on a fresh batch of soup.

As soon as it was done, you dished out a bowl for the child. He giggled and it warmed your heart that he liked what you did for him. You dished out two more bowls and knocked at the door asking if it was safe to come out. You heard Paz say yes so you opened the door holding the two bowls. They took it from you and Din snorted.

“How did you know the kid likes soup.”

“He told me.”

Din whipped towards you.

“What?”

“You didn’t tell me he’s a force user.”

“What do you know of force users?”

“They have exceptional powers. He used his to tell me how you always order him soup. He wonders what you look like. If he’s your ad’ika why don’t you show your face?”

“I’m.. I’m not his biur. Not yet.”

“Tell him that, though it may break his heart. He thinks the world of you, Din. I’ll go back inside so you two can eat. Sorry it isn’t much. I’ll get more supplies tomorrow.”

When you turned to go back in, Paz grabbed your arm stopping you.

“Thank you.”

You nodded and walked inside, shutting the door and letting out a shaky breath. The child was looking at you and you walked over, seeing he needed more. You sipped at your own the way he had shown you Din did.

“We don’t take our helmets off unless it’s with our children or our spouse.”

He reached his hand out, so you let him touch your bare skin. He showed you Din again, and you could tell he questioned what you had just told him.

“He is tasked to find your people but if he can’t find them you won’t be going anywhere. He will always take care of you even if you aren’t sure what’s going on right now. He won’t ever leave you behind, okay?”

He smiled again and you pat the top of his head. You hoped that Din would figure it out. No child deserved to feel so alone.

---

You cleaned up until the child started to yawn. You scooped him up and walked around, softly singing to him. He fell asleep quickly and you smiled at how precious he looked. After a while you put him down on your bed so he would be in there when Din was ready to sleep. When you walked out both men were coming inside.

“He’s asleep. He ended up really sleepy, so I walked around with him until he fell asleep.”

“Thank you, vod’ika. Sometimes he has a hard time falling asleep.”

“It was nothing, Din. I’m happy to help.”

“Why don’t you tell Din about the little girl in town that needs a biur.”

Din looked at Paz then back at you. You sighed loudly and put your hand on your hip, glaring at the larger man.

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“She has no family?”

“No, she doesn’t. She really likes your vod’ika and hops from home to home to have somewhere to sleep. The village calls this one here cabur and I was yelled at by a small one for speaking ill of her. The little one in question is enamored with her cabur.”

“Vod’ika, why haven’t you taken her in?”

“We aren’t talking about this. None of us. Drop it. There wasn’t even a need to bring it up.”

Din tilt his head to the side, and you could have smacked Paz you were so mad.

“You won’t listen to me. Maybe you’ll listen to Din.”

“Paz, you are the most insufferable pain in the ass I have ever met!”

“And you’re the most bullheaded stubborn sheb I’ve ever met!”

“Well if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.”

Paz barked out a laugh and stepped forward. You tensed your body, hands balled into fists as you stared at him. Din looked between both of you and crossed his arms.

“What the hell is going on between you two?”

You both yelled nothing, but it was hard to miss the difference in your inflection. You were furious and wanted Din to know that there was absolutely nothing to talk about. Paz sounded defeated and frustrated that there was nothing going on.

“I might believe that if I didn’t walk up to you on his lap.”

You tossed your hands in the air and let them slap at your legs when they dropped.

“Of course, that’s when you would walk up. You didn’t see all the times I yelled at him or told him off. You weren’t even here to see me shoot him. But yes, you walk up when he pulls me against my will against him. Wonderful!”

“You shot him?”

“Against your will?!”

They both spoke at the same time and you were the one to laugh that time. You slipped your gloves back on and went to the door. As soon as you opened it Paz slapped his hand on it, effectively stopping you from leaving when it slammed shut.

“I will break this fucking door Paz and then you can tell the village why we need a new one. Let me out.”

“You aren’t running away! This is exactly what I was talking about before. Anytime things get hard or slightly uncomfortable you run away.”

“Do you think maybe I’m running from you?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Every time I’ve had to run it has been your fault. Perhaps you should be more worried about your actions that cause me to do this than me doing it.”

He grabbed your shoulder and spun you before pushing your back against the door. You glared up at him and saw Din start to walk forward but he stopped when you didn’t try to fight back.

“I thought we were past this, ad’ika. I thought we were past you trying to run from me when all I have done is try to help you since the moment I got here. Do you know how lucky you are to still be breathing? No one just shoots me and lives. No one yells at me and treats me poorly and gets to live. I’ve killed for far less.”

“Then just go ahead and do it! Go back to the Armorer and tell her that you found me dead.”

“I’d need your beskar, you stupid girl.”

“Over my dead fucking body are you taking this beskar off me.”

“That was just my point! Stars you are obstinate for no reason! If you put half of this fire into getting what you want instead of hiding, you’d have the entire galaxy!”

“I AM NOT FUCKING HIDING YOU GIANT FUCKING OAF!”

Din cackled at that and it broke the concentration between the two of you. Paz stepped back and let go of the door.

“If you aren’t hiding, then talk. Go ahead and run out the door though. I know you’re going to. It’s what you do. You’re no verd. Warriors don’t run from their problems.”

Your entire body was shaking you were so angry. You did want to bolt. You wanted to head out the door and find an entirely new planet to be on away from everyone you knew, including Din. He was supposed to come to you to help you deal with Paz, not question you.

You stomped over to the counter where you kept your alcohol. You didn’t drink often but you had it just in case, more so for wounds than anything else. It was strong and you liked being on your toes. However, this situation was entirely different. You yanked your helmet off and slammed it on the counter, your back towards the two men.

“What are you doing?”

Paz sounded unsure and you could feel Din shifting his weight like he did when he was uncomfortable. You grabbed the bottle and took a huge swig, wincing when it burned your throat. You leaned forward, both hands on the counter and sighed.

“If I’m going to deal with this I’m going to need to be at least buzzed. You’re much to vexing to deal with sober and since your brother has decided to do the absolute opposite of what I was hoping he would do, this is how I’m going to deal.”

You took another swig and pulled your helmet back on, not caring that your hair was hanging below your helmet for once. You turned around and motioned for the living space. It was going to be a long night.

---

Paz filled Din in on everything that had happened in the last year. You chimed in to correct or add to what he was saying. Din listened intently glancing at you when it came up you had been protecting everyone.

“So, you have been living by the creed the entire time.”

“Yes. No one has seen my face. The village doesn’t even know my name.”

“Vod’ika, why are you being so hard on yourself then. Is it your biur?”

You shrugged.

“I think they meant well. I do. It’s just that it.. You know the stipulation when they took me in.”

“I do.”

“What?”

You cursed yourself. Drinking always made you chatty and even though you knew that was what you needed to do, part of you forgot that Paz would be finding things out you had hidden from him before.

“I told you before that the creed saved me.”

“Right, and I said that you didn’t take the creed until years later.”

“You aren’t wrong. The problem is I had to promise to take the creed long before that. Mandalorians are given the choice to take the vow and when they want to. For my biur to take me in, I had to promise that I would train so I was worthy to wear the beskar. Without this metal, without this helmet, I would be dead on the street.”

“So those were your choices? Die or become one of us? Who let this happen? Does the Armorer know about this?”

The more questions Paz asked the angrier he became. It made you tense but it almost felt nice that he knew why you felt the way you did.

“She does. That’s why I was asked to look out for her. They never did anything that could warrant them being sent away, but it was a fine line. There are extremists everywhere in every group, but the Armorer wanted this one to be safe.”

“She wanted me to have a chance. I was forced to take this creed, but it doesn’t change how important it is to me. I swore to be different than them. It’s why I’m so strong in my beliefs, Paz. I need to do things this way, so I don’t end up like them.”

“Then why be so upset about the helmet? Your biur would have disowned you but if you had just gone to the Armorer she would have understood. The rest of us would have understood.”

“I broke the creed. I’ve broken what it means to me. Just because my beliefs on this are different than yours doesn’t make them invalid. I can’t rely on everyone just forgiving the broken creed. I won’t.”

“And you won’t marry outside of love because you don’t want to be like them too?”

You nodded and pulled your legs up, so you were more or less curled up on the couch. Din reached over and put his hand on your knee. He had always been the one to console you even though it wasn’t very conventional. That was how you learned to fight. You channeled all your pain and frustration into fighting.

“Go get some sleep, Din. I have a feeling the kid will be up soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind giving up your room?”

“Yes. I have no problem sleeping on the couch.”

He stood and stretched, groaning at the movements.

“Getting old, Din.”

“Yeah, shut up.”

You laughed and said goodnight as he walked back into the room. Before you could stand up to get a blanket, Paz was handing one to you. You thanked him quietly and started pulling your beskar off, stacking it neatly by the couch. You laid down on your side once you were done and Paz sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch so he was close to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of that?”

“It’s not something I like talking about.”

“It doesn’t change that you run from everything.”

“I know it doesn’t. I at least have a reason for it.”

He tilted his head back, so it was resting on your thigh. You felt strange but the feeling wasn’t horrible. His breathing changed a few times like he was going to talk but decided not to.

“Were you actually unwilling?”

“What?”

“When I pulled you on me. Were you really unwilling? I don’t want to upset you.”

“I.. no. It wasn’t unwilling. I would have said something. I was just mad and embarrassed that of all times that was when Din showed up.

He fell silent again and with how steady his breathing was, you almost thought he fell asleep.

“Have you been like that before with someone?”

“Sat on someone’s lap?”

He turned his head to face you and you barked out a laugh.

“Oh! Yes. Yes, I’ve had sex before, if that’s what you’re asking. The creed says nothing about sex.”

“And they never saw your face?”

“You’re the only one who has seen my face since I’ve taken the creed.”

“So, you just had sex with your helmet on?”

You laughed and shrugged.

“It’s the only part of the beskar that has to stay on. You know that. You’re saying you’ve never had sex?”

“Of course, I’ve had sex! What kind of question is that?”

“Oh, so you can question me, but I can’t question you?”

He huffed and rolled his head back, so he was facing forward.

“I guess that’s fair. You know, you’re being pretty bold considering I’m the one who has been drinking.”

“Bold? No. Being bold would be telling you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled expecting him to join in with you but instead he just turned to look at you fully.

“I know we fight something fierce. I know that I’m not the most patient person in the galaxy. I do respect you. I think even more than I did before and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Thank you, Paz.”

“You’re nothing like your biur. I understand not wanting to be like them. You just can’t not live because you’re afraid you may end up like them.”

“I’m scared to live. I’m scared to let anyone close. Not that I’ll admit it again once I’m sober.”

He rumbled out a laugh and you smiled at the sound.

“I hope you can begin to trust me.”

“I do trust you Paz. I just know it’s not actually me that you want. You just want the tribe back.”

“You’re so sure of that?”

“Of course. What use would you have for me? You need a woman that will stay home and give you warriors. Someone to come home to. Marrying me out of obligation would do nothing but hinder you. You’re already a warrior. No use for ‘nother.”

“Do I look like the type of man that would come home anywhere? This is the longest I’ve stayed anywhere.”

“I ‘dunno Paz. Look pretty domestic to me.”

He laughed and pulled the blanket up on you, hearing how tired you are by the sound of your voice.

“Get some sleep, cabur’ika.”

“Will you leave with Din?”

“What? Of course not. Din has his own journey. Mine is right here.”

You laughed and rolled away from him. You were so tired that you didn’t even fight him when he turned shut the light off and slipped your helmet off your head. You mumbled out a thank you and giggled when you heard him stumble into his room.

“G’night Paz.”

“Goodnight, cabur.”

---

You stood on the porch watching the sunrise the next morning. You could still hear Paz snoring and as annoying as it was, you were getting used to the sound. When you heard the door open, Din walked out holding the small child.

“Good morning”

“Morning.”

“He wake you up early?”

He grumbled and handed the kid to you. You smiled and scratched the top of his head, smiling when he cooed at you.

“How long are you staying?”

“Depends on if you and Paz are going to kill each other.”

You sighed and sat down, leaning against the wall. Din joined you, keeping one knee bent so he could rest his arm on it.

“I’m not going to kill him.”

“Well then you’re going to need to have sex with him. One or the other.”

You laughed and smacked his arm.

“Din!”

“I’m serious. The two of you need to get some energy out and it’s either going to be fucking or killing. I’ve known both of you for a long time. Never seen either of you at anyone’s throat like this.”

“He wants me to marry him.”

“I know you have your own ideas for marriage, but in our tribe, you know it’s about convenience and strength. Who can you be compatible with to make sure the tribe lives on?”

“I hear what you’re saying.”

“You’re letting your pride keep you from the tribe. We need you. Paz needs you. The Armorer isn’t on Navarro anymore. I’m not sure where she is or where they all moved to but there aren’t many people left. Having one more person would be a huge deal.”

“So, I just enter into the marriage like a negotiation?”

He shrugged.

“Why not? Aren’t most marriages like that? Not that I’m well versed in that but it’s all a negotiation. Decide what you both can and can’t live with and meet in the middle. As much as he pushes my buttons, he isn’t a bad man.”

You sighed and nodded.

“I know he isn’t. I just don’t want him to regret it later.”

“That sounds like his decision to make. Not yours.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

You tilt your head and laughed, picking up on his playful mood.

“Thank you, Din.”

“You’re welcome, vod’ika. You two will figure it out. Neither of you have anywhere else to be. May as well be together instead of you both being alone.”

“What about you?”

“I have the kid.”

“And what happens if you find his family?”

“Then I’ll be showing up on your doorsteps. Don’t worry about me. I’m used to doing things on my own as a bounty hunter.”

“That mean you’re leaving soon?”

“I need to. I have a lot to do to find the Jedi. It seems like every time I find something out, I need to do five different highly dangerous things to find out something else.”

You laughed and rest your head on his shoulder. He squeezed your leg playfully before sighing at the child.

“You ready to go, kid?”

He looked up at you and touched your hand. You slipped the glove off, letting him connect with you again. He showed you his time with you and you felt how comfortable and safe he felt. You smiled and pressed your forehead to his.

“You will always be welcome here, ad’ika. Take care of Din for me, yeah? He won’t ever admit it, but he needs you just as much as you need him.”

Din sighed next to you but didn’t correct your statement. You handed the child over to Din and stood when he did.

“Don’t you want to say goodbye to Paz?”

“I already told him I’d be gone by the time he woke up. Besides, I’ll see you two again. You know how to get ahold of me.”

“I do.”

“Thank you for letting us stay here.”

“Always, Din. I mean that. If you ever need anything just call. The blue giant and I will be there.”

He put his forehead to yours again and you shut your eyes, not wanting to cry. As much as you knew he needed to go, you were going to miss him terribly.

“This is the way.”

“This is the way.”

He stepped away and slung his bag over his back, walking into the woods and out of sight. You looked back towards the cabin and sighed, knowing there was a huge talk that needed to happen between you and Paz. You hoped desperately that both of you could keep calm enough to come to an understanding.

---

Paz finally came out of his room and you motioned for him to sit next to you. He instead sat in front of you by the wall and you sighed.

“You’re so stubborn.”

“We know this. Din leave?”

“Yeah. He left this morning. He said you already knew he was leaving.”

“I did. We don’t really do the goodbye thing.”

“I let him know that if he needed help from us to just comm me.”

He snorted and crossed his arms.

“Volunteering me now?”

“Well you seem to be sticking by my side so yeah.”

“Where else would I go? Not like I have a home to go to.”

You crossed your arms and tensed up.

“Is that how you feel? We just built you an entire room, Paz. You don’t see this as your home?”

“It’s not sustainable. We’re safe for now but soon enough they will come looking for us. There are a lot of people who want to wipe out the Mandalorians.”

“Why are you being so hostile today?”

“I’m not being hostile.”

He basically snapped at you, so you narrowed your eyes. When you tilt your head to the side he scoffed and looked away.

“Could have fooled me.”

You got up to head to the kitchen and heard him stand, following you.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

You turned and he was directly in front of you. You jumped slightly and he wrapped his hands around your biceps. You already had your armor on, but he easily wrapped his large hands around you.

“You keep running.”

“Paz, I’m going to cook food. Aren’t you hungry?”

“What?”

You laughed and shook your head slightly.

“I was going to go into town today to get fish for Din’s ad’ika but since they’re gone, I wanted to make something to eat and figure out what we need. I still have some of the soup or I can make something new.”

“I.. you don’t need to cook anything new. The soup was good.”

You started heating the food up while he stood leaning against the wall. He had his arms crossed as he was watching you.

“I know that when you came around, we were already pretty secluded, but our warriors were never meant to fight alone. We used to have vast armies, and everyone had their role. When the purge happened is when we had to learn to fight on our own. We held onto the tribe mentality as much as possible, but I always hated how we taught the young they were on their own.”

You listened to him, leaning back on the counter. As much as you normally would say something sarcastic, hearing Paz speak about the culture was always something you enjoyed. It also helped that he wasn’t talking down to you.

“When I could be around to teach the children, I made sure that they knew we were important to each other. I think being out on my own made me forget that for a long time. Being utterly alone makes you think of things differently, even if that means it isn’t always right.”

“I can agree with that. When you’re the only person you need to look out for it becomes a little easier. I don’t.. I don’t usually care so much about myself. What has kept me going is the obligation to the village here and making sure I could send back to the tribe whenever possible.”

You dished out the now warm soup and moved to the living area, sitting down on the couch. Paz sat down on the chair near the kitchen and you heard his helmet set down on the counter. You took your own off and sat it next to you. You were surprised at how comfortable it was being in the house with him, even if you couldn’t really look at him.

“When I first came here, I refused any comforts. I slept on the ground in a side alley in the village. It made the village very upset to know I wasn’t warm and safe. They didn’t understand that it doesn’t really matter where we sleep; we’re just happy to be actually sleeping.”

Paz chuckled and you smiled.

“They offered me all the best houses there, but it didn’t feel right taking from them. They finally insisted I live here and furnished the entire thing. I didn’t really have any credits to offer them, but I couldn’t just take without payment. That was how we decided on our agreement. I could help them, and they could help me. It makes them feel good when I’m taken care of.”

“And you feel better know that you’re keeping them safe.”

You hummed in agreement and drank some of the soup, smiling at the memory of the small child enjoying it so much.

“Running may have been what brought me here, but it isn’t what kept me in one place. I am comfortable but I just wanted to feel like I was taking care of someone like I would have been taking care of the tribe.”

“You have a very kind heart, cabur. I understand fearing being like your biur but you are nothing like them.”

“Thank you. It makes me feel better hearing that. I know that they were extreme and stricter than most. I just want to live by the creed without losing who I am at the core.”

“You sound more at peace today.”

“I guess so. Din and I chatted before he left. Plus talking to both of you last night helped too. I’ve been… stubborn.”

You heard him slip his helmet on, so you did the same. He sat down next to you on the couch, being physically close to you for once. You turned so you had your legs crossed and could face him fully. He made the couch look so little but there was more than enough room for you to sit any way you wanted.

“I did always tell myself that I would only marry for love. However, your point that I don’t let anyone close to me was valid. I can’t love someone if I don’t let myself near anyone.”

“Did Din tell you that, so you finally believed it?”

“No. I knew when you said it that you were right. I’m not very good at admitting that.”

“Neither am I.”

You laughed and nodded.

“There aren’t many of us left and those that are happen to be scattered across the galaxy. I am lucky to still have two tribesmen close to me.”

“We are lucky to have that. You aren’t the only one.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. I’ve been horrible towards you for saving my life and it was wrong of me. I don’t know if I would have done the same thing for you then, but I would now. I’m sure you know that I’m not in love with you, but I do have tremendous respect for you. I know there are things we would need to talk and work out, but if you truly want me to be your riduur, I will accept. This is bigger than just the two of us. Our tribe needs both of us”

He turned and put his hand on your knee. His hand felt warm even with all the armor and you tentatively put your hand on top of his. He squeezed your fingers in response.

“What do you need from me?”

“I don’t expect us to change. I don’t want us to feel like we need to act differently.”

“What of ad’ike? Do you still want children?”

“Yes, eventually. There are plenty of children who need biur. When we are both ready and feel like it’s time, we can discuss it.”

You expect him to bring up the small girl in the village, but he didn’t.

“I also want you to promise me that you will not regret this. If you.. meet someone else.. and want to promise yourself to them, then you need to do it. I will not come in the way of your happiness. Not any more than I already have.”

“You would absolve it for me to be with someone else?”

“Yes.”

“You know that means you likely would never find another within the tribe.”

“I know, Paz. You did save my life and now you want to marry me to so I can go back to our family when the time comes. I at least owe you a way out.”

He reached over and pulled you, so you were sitting sideways on his lap. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other rested on your leg.

“I know I’ve made mistakes and I’ve let you down. I’ve hurt you more than any enemy could and for that I am sorry. I know you think in your head that I am only doing this because of the tribe but that isn’t true. I want us to start over. I will do whatever it takes. We can figure all this out together. We both know what is at stake and I’ve let you down before, but I am so thankful for this chance. You said you don’t want us to change, but cyare you have already changed me so much.”

You felt your chest tighten at his admission. You desperately wanted to say something, but you were at an absolute loss of words.

“You deserve so much better than what you’ve gone through in your life. You deserve so much better than me.”

“No. No you’re a good man. I don’t know that I can physically not give you shit every day but don’t think for a second that I think less of you.”

He chuckled and held you tighter.

“I wish you could see yourself for the warrior you are. Your strength is so much more than could be put in words. I’m glad you opened up to me last night. I know it hurts to do that.”

“It does.”

“I need to see all of it though. Just like you need to see every side of me. Guess it’s a good thing you’ve already seen me being a total asshole.”

You laughed and felt some of the tension fall from your shoulders.

“I just feel you’re settling because you feel guilty about my broken creed.”

“It’s much more than that to me now. I would be the luckiest Mandalorian in the galaxy to have a riduur as strong and resilient as you. Someone to raise warriors with together. Between your smarts and my brute strength, they would be unstoppable.”

He placed his hand on the side of your helmet and turned your face towards his.

“Whenever you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together.”

---

Your trip into town was fairly uneventful. You were able to tell Paz more about the village and the history you had learned from the elders. He listened intently which made you incredibly happy.

Something had shifted between the two of you. His entire attention was on you and his movements synced with yours. You tried to remember if he had always gently touched your back when you stopped to look at something. Did he always turn towards you so fully when you spoke?

You couldn’t figure out if he was acting different or if it was you. It was entirely possible that you were finally letting that wall down around him. You noticed things that would keep you alive but social interactions weren’t something you looked at closely.

It wasn’t that you disliked what he was doing. It was just different.

“The market should be opened by now. There isn’t usually a lot left so I don’t feel as bad taking what no one else wanted.”

“They get more supplies tomorrow?”

You nodded and felt your face heating up. He was overwhelming but you absolutely decided you liked this side of Paz. The two of you continued through the village and made it to the market. You worker smiled at both of you and you didn’t miss the way she looked at Paz’s hand resting on your lower back. She gave you a huge smile and wished you both a good day.

“They’re all so friendly here.”

“Yeah, they are. It’s nice to not hide who we are. They like the fact that we’re Mandalorians.”

“Nothing like Navarro.”

“Which is why I like it here.”

You walked back to the cabin, both carrying the food. You put things away and started a meal, having finished off the soup earlier that day. Paz sat in the kitchen chair watching you cook and hum to yourself.

“Is there something you want to talk about? I don’t think you’ve looked at me this much in my entire life.”

“I think you need to bring Lahta here.”

“Paz.. I don’t want this life for her.”

“It would be her choice. Your circumstances were different. That isn’t the norm. We bring foundlings home and give them a chance regardless of what they choose.”

“I’ve never seen someone not take it.”

“I don’t know many that haven’t. It is still a choice.”

“Then they’re cast aside if they don’t want to?”

“No. They live with us as part of the tribe. You don’t remember people being around with no helmets on?”

“My biur kept me away from most. Can we.. can we talk about this later? I’m a bit overwhelmed if I’m being honest. We’ve talked about a lot today.”

He sighed but nodded.

“Okay. We will talk again though.”

You nodded and finished cooking. You did want to discuss bring the girl home. You had thought about her often and it kicked up once you found out she had no family. It was just too much to process. You sat the plate down in front of him.

“When.. when do you want to.. share vows?”

You winced at how meek you sounded.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“How do I know I’m ready.”

“I’m not sure. You will though. We will both know.”

You grabbed your food and walked into the living area again. Slipping your helmet off, you started eating enjoying eating a hot meal. You thought about how soon you could actually eat with Paz and it did warm your heart.

“You looked beautiful when you were dying.”

You choked on your drink and started coughing.

“What!?”

“No.. I.. fuck.. When I saw your face. You were beautiful.”

“Paz, there were a thousand different ways you could have said that better.”

You burst into laughter and you heard him grumble.

“I mean it. I didn’t mean to put my foot in my mouth, but I did mean it when I said you’re beautiful.”

“I do have to say that when I thought of my future husband calling me beautiful, it didn’t sound like that.”

“Maker kill me now.”

“No. Not now.”

“When then?”

“I told you. Once you go lay down by the wood line. I’m not dragging your ass.”

You burst out laughing when you heard him slam his helmet on, so you did the same. He stalked over to you, looming over you still sitting. You desperately tried to stop laughing but you failed miserably.

“You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“I think I’m fucking hilarious, actually.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm? Did you not hear me? Is your hearing going, old ma-“

You were cut off when he abruptly grabbed you by your chest armor. He lifted you up like you were absolutely nothing and spun so he was pressing your back against the wall. He moved himself forward, pressing his body against yours. You worked hard to control your breathing, but he must have noticed. The dark chuckle that came from deep in his chest sent a shiver down your spine.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?”

You knew damn well if you spoke at that moment your voice would have cracked, so you shook your head instead.

“That’s what I thought, little one. You’re such a brat sometimes, you know.”

“I may have noticed.”

He chuckled again and pushed one of his legs between yours, holding you up more efficiently. You stifled a small gasp but again he chuckled at your reactions.

“I think you like getting a rise out of me, cyare.”

“Perhaps you’re just easily provoked.”

He pressed his leg forward more and you gasped. Your hands shot to his shoulders and you gripped the straps to his armor. He moved his hands to your hips and gripped them hard.

“I’ve thought about this, you know. I’ve wondered what little noises you would let slip through your lips when I put my hands on you. I’ve thought about how much you would like me dominating you. Tell me, cabur’ika, is this the reaction you were hoping for?”

“Stars you and cocky.”

“Tell me to stop then.”

“Why would I do that?”

He growled out a laugh and lifted you more so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He immediately turned and head to his room, kicking the door shut behind you.

“Holy shit its dark in here.”

You hadn’t even thought of putting a window in, more concerned with having a space for him. He pinned you back against the wall, using his body to keep you up when his hands moved up and took his helmet off. You inhaled sharply through your nose but there was absolutely no seeing anything even as your eyes adjusted to the dark.

“It has its uses.”

“I can’t see anything.”

“Good. Then we aren’t breaking the rules.”

“Pretty fine line.”

He chuckled and moved his hands to your helmet. You tensed slightly but nodded, helping him remove it.

“Your bucket is so light.”

“Well in comparison to yours all my armor is light I’m sure.”

He set your helmet down carefully next to his on the dresser and placed his hands gently on each side of your face. Your breath was shaky as you moved your hands up to do the same to him. You smiled when you felt his soft skin and the facial hair covering the lower half of his face. You traced your thumb across his bottom lip and felt the sigh slip through.

“So, this is why you asked if I had sex with my helmet on. You figured out a loophole.”

“Surprised someone as smart as you didn’t think of it.”

“Maybe I just don’t like cheating the system.”

Your voice was playful, and you felt a smile spread across his face.

“Hmm, but if we didn’t cheat the system how would I ever be able to do this?”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You gasped against his lips at the sensation. You had thought of kissing before, but you never expected it to feel so intimate. You had let others touch your body, that didn’t seem like a big deal to you. His lips pressed against you was hands down the most intimate feeling you had ever experienced.

You were afraid that you would feel inexperienced and naïve, but the way Paz kissed you was everything. He slowly showed you what to do with your mouth in a way that made you hungry. This was nothing like how you learned how to fight; violent and unforgiving. You learned how to press your lips to his in a way that clouded every other sense. The feeling of him against you quickly made you breathless. When he broke away, he pressed his forehead to you and rubbed his nose against yours.

“You have far too many clothes on, mesh’la.”

“I guess you should fix that problem then.”

He chuckled and kissed you quickly before starting to work on your armor. It was shocking to you just how easily he was able to hold you up. He made quick work of your armor and you laughed at the fact that he seemed more proficient than even you were.

“I may have studied your armor so I would know just how to get it off you.”

“How often have you thought of doing this?”

“I’m not sure they make numbers that large.”

You bit your bottom lip and giggled as he unhooked the rest. You went to start on his but he stopped you.

“Please, cyare, let me do this. Let me take care of you.”

You hesitated before letting out a breathy response of okay. He moved to pull your gloves off and then your shirt. Once your skin was bare, he pulled his own gloves off and ran his hands up your sides with a groan.

“You’re so soft. Stars how are you so soft?”

He leaned forward and started peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders while his hands ran roughly up and down your sides. Eventually he wrapped one arm around you and pulled away from the wall, quickly moving to the bed where he set you down on your back. He pulled your pants off you leaving you completely bare below him. You were able to see his outline but with how dark it was it was absolutely impossible to see details beyond that.

“Why is it that I’m the only one with nothing on?”

“Is someone impatient?”

“Yes.”

He laughed and made quick work of his armor. You watched him as you moved further up the bed, getting comfortable. He unceremoniously removed his clothes and tossed them on the floor near his feet. Your heart started to race when he crawled up the bed and grabbed your hips. The surprised gasp that fell from your lips was embarrassing when he yanked you down, so you were directly below him.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go right now.”

“That would make me an awful liar.”

He kissed you again as you ran your fingertips across his skin. His chest was littered with small scars and bumps from years of fighting. It was a start contrast from the way that he gently kissed you. The man had destroyed and killed for most of his life yet his hands were skilled in the way that they gently worked your flesh in them.

He trailed his kisses down your neck where he suckled the skin, absolutely leaving marks in his wake. You breathlessly moaned at the sensation and he groaned in response.

“Such beautiful noises for me, cyare. Stars this is better than any dream I possibly could have made up.”

He worked his way down, worshiping every inch of your skin that he could get to. When he pulled your pebbled nipple into his mouth you arched your body into his. He gripped your hips roughly and held you in place. Your hands shot to his head where you laced your fingers through his hair. He groaned against your sensitive skin when you gently tugged at his roots.

“Tell me what you want, mesh’la.”

“Oh stars. You. I want you.”

“Hmm, that isn’t very descriptive.”

You huffed in frustration and he chuckled. He slipped off of you, so he was laying at your side. You wined at the loss of contact but quickly silenced yourself when he kissed you deeply. He continued to kiss you as he ran his hand down your body until he was able to slip a single finger between your already soaked folds.

“Maker, cyare, you’re already so wet for me.”

You moaned against his lips and he started working your sensitive clip. He kept kissing you as he worked your body better than you possibly imagined it could be done. When he slid his hand down further and started to slip a single digit in you gasped at the way it stretched you.

“Maker, Paz.”

“Fuck you’re tight.”

He grabbed your hand closest to him and guided it down to his throbbing cock. You gasped again when you felt just how large he was.

“Uhm, how.. how is that even going to fit in me?”

He laughed and continued to push his finger in and out of you. When he pushed a second in you arched your back and moaned loudly.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. Oh stars.”

He continued working you and you wrapped your hand around his shaft. He groaned when you did and picked up the pace that he was using on you slightly. He continued kissing and sucking at your neck as you felt your climax inching towards you. When he started rubbing his thumb against your clit you cried out soon after, hit hard by your orgasm.

“Fuck I need you, cyare. T-tell me to stop.”

“No. Please don’t stop Paz.”

“Come on, mesh’la. Tell me what you want. I need to know. I need to hear it from your pretty mouth. I want to hear you beg for me.”

You whimpered when he pulled his fingers from you, feeling suddenly empty. When he kissed you, you pushed him and climbed over, straddling his waist. When you placed your hands on his chest and sat up, he groaned and gripped your hips hard.

“Why is it me that has to beg? Maybe I want the great Paz Vizla begging for me.”

“Oh, is that what you want? You want me to beg you to fuck me? Beg you to sink that tight pussy down on my cock?”

“Yeah. I do.”

He hummed and pushed you down, making you grind along him. You gasped and grabbed his wrists. He chuckled and used your surprise to flip you both back over. You gasped again when your back hit the bed and he pressed his weight on you. He kissed you deeply, so you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him further forward.

“Such a needy woman. Just tell me what you want, and you’ll have it. I’ll always do whatever I can to give you everything.”

You wanted to fight against him. You wanted to prolong the game and not give in. You didn’t want to submit; not yet. Something about the way his hands ran over your body and how he pressed into you dissolved any resolve you had to keep your submission at bay.

“I want you, Paz. Please. Show me how much you want me. Let me give you ever piece of me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you again, this time softer and passionately. One hand held the side of your face while the other reached between you. You felt him press against you as he continued to kiss you.

“Relax, mesh’la. It’s just me. You know me. You know I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

You moaned against him and he gently pushed into you. The stretch was slightly painful at first, so you appreciated the care he was taking. He pushed the entire way in, filling you in a way you never knew possible.

“Haar'chak, you are so tight.”

He braced himself on his forearms that he placed by your head. When he stared moving inside of you, there was no way you were stopping the moans from falling from your lips. Your entire thoughts were consumed with him and everything he was making you feel. You wanted to move your hips to meet his thrusts, but he was just too much. You were too full, and his body had your legs spread too far.

“Stars how I’ve dreamt of this. I’ve dreamt of you split open on my cock moaning for me.”

You cried out at a harder thrust when he hit just the right spot inside of you. Paz groaned and hooked one of your legs up higher. You felt tears start to well in your eyes at just how overwhelmed your body was. He had achieved the impossible by going further inside of you.

“Come on, cyare. Cum for me. Let me see what it feels like.”

He tilted back so he was on his knees, lifting your lower back up so he could continue to pound into you. He moved his thumb to your clit and worked it until you screamed out. When you clamped down on his he growled and moved quicker. You let your head fall back onto the bed as he mercilessly pounded into you.

“Where?”

“Inside. Fuck- implant. I have the implant.”

With three more strong thrusts he came hard inside of you. He stayed deeply seated inside of you until you felt him start to soften and he slipped out. You whimpered at the feeling and he chuckled as he flopped on the bed next to you.

“Fuck, Paz.”

“Already did.”

You laughed out trying to catch your breath.

“I guess now would be a weird time to ask if you have any diseases, right?”

You turned to where you knew he was and laughed again.

“Yeah that talk is usually before sex. But no. I have no diseases. We honestly should have had this entire talk long before now.”

“Oh well. Not a lesson I plan on needing.”

“Oh?”

“Nope.”

“Not planning on fucking anyone else within an inch of their life?”

He barked out a laugh and pulled you, so you were resting on him. You shivered when your sweaty skin started to cool off, so he yanked a blanket over both of you.

“No. You’re going to be my wife, mesh’la. I’m all in with you. Even if you didn’t have the exact body made to fit against mine.”

“Hmm. You sure know how to lay it on thick, Vizla.”

“Oh, I’m just starting. For now though, sleep would be nice.”

You nestled into his chest and sighed. For the first time in a long time your body felt relaxed and comfortable. Before long the sound of his snores filled the room and you smiled against his skin as sleep took you too.

---

Translations Haar'chak: damn it cayre: belovid ad’ika: little one, child vod’ika: little brother/sister cabur: protector/guardian

#paz vizsla #paz x female!reader #paz vizla x reader #paz x reader #the mandalorian #fanfic

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.28}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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It was the middle of March when a simple trip to Hogsmeade turned into the beginning of the very end.

Robin had let Cas and Jorien talk her into coming along to town this Hogsmeade Saturday, and she had used the opportunity to sell another batch of rare ingredients in the small dingy shop she had actually come to appreciate for just that at this point. After dropping the girls off at Honeydukes, she'd gone on to the potions shop by herself, scared the shop owner beyond reason yet again just for her own amusement, and left a little while later with an even larger sum of galleons in her bag than the previous time she had been there. Really, it was incredible for just how much some of the stuff she possessed sold even around here. Thus, content and smiling to herself for the well accomplished mission, she made her slow way back from the shady part of the village to where she was supposed to meet the girls on high street in twenty minutes. Hopefully time would pass quickly… it was terribly cold outside, even for March, and Robin couldn't wait for a nice hot cup of coffee in whatever cafe the girls would surely drag her into next.

When she crossed from one mud covered street into an even narrower alley of much the same sodden ground, her smile was wiped off her face however, in the very instant a repelling spell hit her square in the chest and sent her flying backwards into the half frozen dirt of the larger road before she even had the time to register what was happening to her. Suddenly void of every air in her lungs, Robin gasped, then yelped when her back hit the hard ground and unruly stone, sending a hot searing pain up her spine that made her eyes water. Adrenaline rushed into her veins, as flooring as it was exhilarating, and while her mind was spinning as it tried to grasp for a sense of what was happening, she already had her wand in her hand only for it to be knocked straight out of there again by an Expelliarmus spoken by a very much familiar voice. Oh no…

"A path of shadows isn't a good place for my little songbird to dwell in… It isn't safe out here. The cats might come to prey on you." Damion Morgan sighed exaggeratedly, while he picked Robin's wand off the ground before she ever had the chance to reach for it. "Get up now dear, before you become as sodden as the ground."

Robin's mind spun in hazy circles of panic as she scrambled to her feet without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. Really, it was her bad luck that it was his turn to supervise this particular Hogsmeade weekend. And away from the school, away from anyone who would witness the incident, she was as good as doomed alone with him in this bloody back alley. For a second, her mind sped through her options. Apparating away? No, not without her wand. Wandless magic, perhaps? In the matter of a few seconds she tried every defensive spell she knew she could do without her wand, running a string of words through her mind with as much focus as she could fathom, but they all proved ineffective against the smug man in front of her. Fuck… he certainly wouldn't make it as easy for her as the last few times, he had already shown her glimpses of that back on new year's. Perhaps he wasn't quite as untalented in the dark arts as she had always tried to convince herself of.

"You needn't try, darling. After the little stunt you pulled on me on the night of the welcoming feast, I have seen to it that my own resistance to your admirable spellwork was fit to counter. And after years of studying you in my class, I know just what spells you have up your sleeve." He told her just in that moment with a disgustingly sweet smile. Dropping his arm with his wand to his side then, he took a step closer to Robin to be right in front of her now. "I had so hoped we could do this in another way. I had hoped it would never have to come this far, if only you had chosen me as I have chosen you. Now, all there is left for either of us is pain."

"Indeed." Robin replied in a breathless huff, and while she didn't understand a single thing of what he was saying with his many words, she knew that she wouldn't get a better chance than this. Without wasting any time overthinking for once, she curled her hand into a fist and punched Morgan straight in the face as strongly as she could. Magic was nice and all, but sometimes the muggle way to do things did work just as well. The blazing pain, the sting and burn that spread from her knuckles up into her entire arm in an instant was well worth it as she discovered, for Morgan dropped both Robin's wand and his own when he instinctively clutched his hands to his hurting face.

What followed then definitely followed too fast. Robin went to claw for her wand immediately, but so did Morgan with his own. Both reached theirs in a striking simultaneity, and in the very same they directed at each other their respectively chosen spells. It wasn't a matter of thought, of conscious action or strategy, but rather an adrenaline driven instinctive defense that made Robin send yet another stunning spell at Morgan. And it seemed no less instinctive for him to send a curse to her in return. Both spells hit their target, both too quick and intricate to deflect. Morgan once more landed on his behind in the offgoing alley, groaning but unfortunately still very much in consciousness. Robin on the other hand let out a bone chilling scream, then crippled into a heap on the very ground she had stood upon, ridden by such a sudden explosion of pain in every cell of her body that it replaced both sense of self and thought. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't move… Her wand lay only inches from her hand, but she found the distance impossible to cross, impossible to think of fighting back at all. All she could do was to keep her eyes wide open as she lay curled up on her side in repeated shivers of pain that drowned out even the cold around her, beneath her, and to watch how Morgan came approaching her once again. His wand raised and pointed at her with a sneer on his face.

"You will have to be better than that, my dear…" He sighed in a raspy voice, then finally crouched down right in front of her and almost affectionately brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You will never succeed if you do not even try. The time has almost come, I'm afraid, and I can no longer hold it off. Neither can I resist you anymore. Oh, how I wish you just could've been mine."

All Robin could do in return was to whimper, as pathetic as it was, but she had no capacity left within her being to care about anything but the pain that was eating her up from the inside. Only in blurred lines above her in her quaking field of vision, Morgan's face twisted in as much agony as she felt, and yet he wore an expression of the utmost sympathy. Robin suddenly felt sick and terribly exposed, and she turned her face downward in a vain attempt to shield herself from the sight of him. Pressing herself into the mud and stone beneath her even if the rash pebbles cut into her skin like a million shards of cruel fate.

"I could end it right here, you know… I should end it here and in this instant." He spoke again, through a layer of sincere remorse. "But I cannot do it if you do not resist. I… I can't, Robin. Not like this. Please don't make me do it like this."

The pain in her body surged to new heights with every word he said, and she let out a strangled sob, a cry of sheer agony even, and perhaps an equal amount of fear. Every atom of her body was torn apart, stabbed with a million knives over and over again while her soul was split into a state between life and death. So much for fighting back… so much for doing anything to protect herself. There was nothing she could do now. She's had her chance, and she'd waisted it on the mildest repelling spell she knew. A bloody idiot, that she was, and nothing more. Perhaps, for that, she did deserve death after all.

No. She was better than that. Robin couldn't give in, not now, not like this, not ever. She had made a mistake by choosing the wrong spell, yes, but she had to work with the consequences now. She would not give up. Never. She couldn't do that to Snape… after all he had been through in his life, he deserved happiness that lasted longer than bloody two and a half months before the next tragedy came haunting him. So did she. They deserved better, and no bloody Damion Morgan could get in the way of that. With the most miserably shaking hand, she tried reaching for her wand, fingertips brushing against the dark wood after what seemed like eternities of pain. Do it do it do it do it do it… Her instincts begged her to finally make use of one of the thousands of horrible curses she had come across over the years, or even to just apparate away for good. But when her sight fell onto Morgan's highly expectant, almost begging expression, her reason won over the instinct. He wanted her to fight. Wanted her to try running. And she would not play this game by his rules anymore.

With another pained whine, Robin clasped her wand in her hand, holding both tightly pressed against her chest, then she rolled onto her back to look up at Morgan's twisted face above her, and even further up at the blindingly white sky. A new wave of maddening pain, she could hardly breathe. Hardly think.

"You really are quite beautiful, you know… Even now, like this." Morgan sighed sadly while his eyes traced the paths Robin's angry tears had painted on her muddied skin. "And while I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see. I must say though that the earrings are a nice addition. Very… modern."

His words still made no sense to Robin's mind, not now, not when the pain took away most of her thoughts in the first place. But she knew that she wanted him to stop playing with her. Think, idiot, through the bloody haze of pain! She'd done it before, pushing the pain away behind the walls in her mind… just enough to make room for reason. Just to focus, just for a moment.

He expected her to fight, or to run, to act in any way they had been taught in his very own class. Therefore he must be looking out for those spells, ready to stop her, ready to attack in return. He wanted her to resist, to fight back, that much had been clear for a long while now… and if she attacked him like that indeed, she very likely wouldn't survive the backlash he had probably been preparing for months now. At least not in her current state of painforced weakness. A state she had brought upon herself when she had let him put that curse on her. A curse of the kind he could only uphold if he put his entire focus on it. Gods! That was the flaw in his actions she had been looking for.

Still very much trembling, she lifted her hand to point her wand up at the sky, then closed her eyes when Morgan started to smile at her doings. He was still waiting for her to make the move that would finally allow him to murder her after all… but she wouldn't do him that favor. She had learned long ago to follow her reason, not her fight or flight instincts. This had to work, she had to be better. For herself, for Snape, for her friends. A faint Lux Obscurius left her lips in even less than a breath as her eyes flew open again, and a broken second later she could feel the earth beneath her vibrating when black lightnings hit the ground around her like a relentless hailstorm of her own fury.

It was enough. Enough to catch Morgan by surprise, to make him lose touch with his spellwork, his focus on Robin, and when the echo of soundless thunder overtook the air around them, the curse's pain was gone from Robin's mind, pushed out of her body by enough adrenaline that forced her onto her feet in an instant. Her wand gripped tightly in her hand, she pointed it at Morgan who staggered to his feet a second later when sound returned to the world.

He tried throwing another curse at her, but Robin had no problem deflecting it even without a word now that she knew what to expect. He tried again and again, growing in desperation and anger while losing in focus and determination, which made it all the easier for Robin to counter while her body and mind slowly recovered from the horrible pain. Luckily the curse had only been on her for a mere few minutes. She was still hurting now… but more so from her hard landing on the ground and a few scratches than from any kind of magic. So far so good.

"Haven't you learned anything throughout the years?!" Morgan cried out at her after a moment, and the string of spells thrown at Robin stopped for the moment as he caught his breath. "You are supposed to fight me! I'm trying to kill you and you just stand there like it's none of your goddamn business! Defend yourself properly, for heaven's sake!!! Try at least! Please!"

"No." Robin got out more or less calmly, but she knew better than to let his talking distract her again. She had made the mistake of letting him catch her off guard once, of underestimating what he would do to her if he got the chance. She wouldn't do it a second time. Neither would she attack him though, even if she had in past times almost hoped for a situation like this. An opportunity to get rid of him. But now that it was here, right in front of her, she found that she couldn't even curse him. Leave alone kill him, like she had always thought she would want to if it came this far. But she simply couldn't bring herself to do either.

"You are just like her, you know that?!" He yelled across the short distance between them, half in laughter, half in despair. "You're too bloody perfect, too much of everything I need to live. I have never been one for irony, but you, love, you are perhaps fate's cruelest twist of bloody irony in existence!"

Robin didn't respond to that. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway, not when he clearly was having a conversation with someone that wasn't her. Not really, anyway. He was just insane; only a madman talking nonsense who was trying to kill her for fun or his own delusional reasons whenever they met outside of class. That was all there was to it, all there could to be. Deep down however, Robin was starting to doubt just that more and more. He didn't seem insane… only caught up in a different reality than her. She was merely clinging onto her version of things for her own good at this point, and she would continue to do so until there was a more reasonable explanation. But for now, she stayed silent either way.

"You know that I will not stop trying, don't you? I cannot stop!" Morgan went on instead, loudly and unbothered in his desperation as if they weren't still in the middle of Hogsmeade. "And unless you kill me first, there is nothing you can do to change your fate!"

The loud banging of a wooden door to Robin's left suddenly caught both her and Morgan's attention then, as it flew open harshly before a bulky barrel of a man came stomping out with a deep frown on his face. Must be the backdoor to one of the taverns, Robin remembered just then. A truly lucky coincidence.

"What's all that shouting and yelling about now again?! Y'all be scaring my customers away!" The burly man bellowed in an instant, and his small angry eyes scanned Robin at first, then Morgan, and finally both their battered and dirty appearances. His anger turned into weariness in an instant, and he addressed Robin with an almost reluctant gaze and a motion towards Morgan. "Need any help dealing with that fellow?"

"Thank you…" Robin replied with a polite but very much feigned smile, then didn't even take her eyes off the barman while she sent a silent Stupefy at the still distracted Morgan, who registered her sudden attack only way too late. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw how the professor was thrown back and down the road by the spell, then stayed lying on the ground in a motionless heap. Truly unconscious, at long last. And yet, Robin's eyes did not once leave the flabbergasted bar owner who stared at her in return as she went on with her statement after a breath. "But I believe I am just fine."

"I, uh… Sorry, for… for interrupting." The man finally stammered out after a moment of taking in Robin's perfectly feigned calm and Morgan's unconscious body. "I'm just… gonna get back to my bar and leave you to your own business."

"Actually," Robin was quick to stop him from vanishing through the door, as she took a determined step towards him, "I would very much appreciate it if I could shortcut to high street through your… establishment."

… … …

Ten minutes later, Robin had almost reached the shop where she was supposed to meet Cas and Jorien. She'd gotten rid of the mud and water that had clung onto her in chunks before setting foot onto high street, which then had left her only with messy hair, a bleeding scratch over her eyebrow and too many thoughts yet to be dealt with. A look into one of the shop windows confirmed that she still looked quite as terrible as she felt; cold, confused, exhausted and anxious enough to burst. Putting her hair up into a bun and a stasis charm onto the scratch to provisionally keep it from bleeding did a good enough job at fixing the outside flaws, but her mind remained troubled as it could be when she finally went to seek out the girls. She was 10 minutes late anyway, no need to let them wait even longer than that.

But even when she slowly approached their meeting spot, she couldn't quite move past what had just happened. Sure, Morgan had hurt her before, had said things along the same lines of her belonging to him, but this just surpassed it all. She didn't doubt that he truly wanted to kill her, even if her refusal to fight back seemed to have hindered him in that today. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to make such a mistake another time, wouldn't hold back nor let his twisted emotions overcome him. His intention was more than clear at this point; his reasons were not. Because as much as Robin wanted to blame it all on insanity, the things he'd said and done, the sincere desperation and agony displayed on his face when he had begged her to fight back just didn't add up anymore. There was a reason to the things he did, a very much sane one, but it was yet veiled in darkness. He said he would try to end her again… So she would have to find out what the hell was going on before then. Why he had said those weird things that still kept nagging at her mind in the strangest way, ringing some distant bells she couldn't quite put her finger to. Gods, she felt exhausted enough for her hands to shake even beyond the cold… it was a miracle that her legs hadn't given out yet.

"Finally you grace us with your presence, Robin!!! Jorien and I have been freezing to death out here for the last ten minutes!" Cas' relieved and reproachful voice pulled Robin out of her thoughts, but it also made her jump in an instant. Visibly, for once. Great…

"Are you alright?" Jorien asked immediately with a big frown on her face, just when Robin came to stand in front of them. "You look-… There's really no nice way to say it. Tired and battered is the mildest one, probably."

"Oh, you know me… always running into one thing or another." She replied with a sigh and a half smile that was more feigned than sincere. "But yeah, I'm quite exhausted, and way too cold. I'm sorry I made you wait, I was held up and couldn't get away from the situation for the longest time."

"It's fine…" Cas sighed as well, a lot milder in her expression already. "We were late anyway, so we really only waited a couple minutes out here."

That finally brought a sincere smile to Robin's lips, even if a small one. Of course they'd been late as well… they always were. Well, thank Morgan for holding her up long enough to spare her the waiting time. Robin snorted at her own thought, and couldn't quite understand why almost dying was suddenly so amusing. Then again, Snape had always been saying that her humour could be quite morbid at times. He was right, as always. Gods, she just wanted to be back with him already, wrapped up in a tight hug, telling him all about what happened… but he was still stuck with the dunderheads who had earned themselves detention this week, and wouldn't be free until after dinnertime. Which was one of the main reasons why Robin had agreed to go to Hogsmeade today in the first place.

"If you're exhausted, we perhaps better skip the next part of our grandiose plans for the day…" Jorien said, thereby regaining Robin's attention in time for her to see the sheer disappointment on both girls' faces. "It probably was a stupid idea anyway. Let's just go to a cafe instead."

"No, it's alright! Don't worry about me." Robin replied in an instant, when her inability to bear seeing the girls sad got the better of her. Damn her empathy, a cozy cafe sounded nice right now… and whatever plans they had made surely wouldn't be nearly as relaxing. But as much as she annoyed herself by doing so, she couldn't help putting them and their happiness first. "We can do whatever you guys originally planned. It's fine!"

The smiles were back on their faces in an instant, as was the excitement and mischief, and while Robin didn't know what she had just gotten herself into, she was prone to find out when they immediately started dragging her off down the street. Two minutes later, they stepped through the door to one of the surprisingly many clothes shops in the small village, and this one obviously seemed to cater more to the younger generations. That was the only thing Robin could tell from the look around she had immediately upon their entrance. A nervous habit, really, that had only intensified now after getting so stupidly taken by surprise earlier.

"So…" Cas started with a grin while she walked ahead in obvious certainty where she wanted to go. "You know how in a week I'm going home with Simon for the easter holidays, right?"

"You mentioned it a couple million times, yes." Robin sassed in feigned annoyance, but her small smile was a sincere one yet again. How could she forget, when both Cas and Simon had been speaking of little else over the last few days. It was rather adorable, really, how excited both of them were to spend time together outside of school for once, at last, after over a year of dating. Robin had the utmost understanding for that, and for them in general.

"Funny." Cas rolled her eyes at Robin, but then went on while she slalomed around shelves and tables of clothes with the others in tow. "Anyway, I wanted to get some nicer things for the occasion. You know, like some pajamas and underwear and stuff… Everything I have is terribly childish or boring and just meh."

Oh dear… Robin could relate more to that than she wanted to admit, and that level of subtle embarrassment wasn't something she currently wanted to deal with. Nor did she want to discuss these matters with her roommates, even if they seemed to have no reluctance to do so the other way round. To her luck, they at least weren't here because of her. Or so she sincerely hoped.

"To shortcut Cas' elaborations, we picked out some stuff for her, but we couldn't really decide and weren't too sure if it was too much or too little, so we were hoping you could give your usual overly-rational evaluation." Jorien concluded factually, and Robin only nodded her agreement with a silent sigh.

This really was the most horrible timing; she had no room in her mind for insignificant matters like clothing! There was only fear and anxiety and concern… and Morgan's words still nagging at her. 'You are just like her', he'd said. Like who? Did Robin remind him of someone who all of his anger and affection likewise were actually directed at? 'While I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see.'... What the hell was that supposed to mean? Robin always made a conscious effort to avoid Morgan as much as possible, to the extent of almost hiding from him during mealtimes. They only really met in defense classes these days. So he really hardly got to see her indeed… but he looked at her being every day? One of the photos of her that had been in the paper, perhaps? But then he would see her as well, not her being. Ugh, this was just-...

"Earth to Robin!" Cas snapped her fingers in front of Robin's face with raised eyebrows. They were standing in front of a line of changing cubicles now, or rather Jorien and Robin were, while Cas stood in the door of one and moved back towards the mirror inside where she looked at herself. Robin had to frown when her attention returned to the current moment. Cas was still wearing her own clothes, but in the mirror, her reflection wore the piece she was trying to show to her friends.

"Interesting spellwork with the mirrors…" Robin mused before she could help it. "Is that a common thing in clothes shops around here?"

"...yes?!" Cas scoffed incredulously at the –to her– obviously inane question. "You really don't go shopping often enough. The mirrors are charmed to show you what the pieces would look like on you. Then you only have to try on the things you actually like on yourself for the right size. We've done that already, so it's just deciding between the looks now. What do you think?"

With an almost impressed expression, Robin studied both the mirror and Cas' reflection for a moment to actually make an effort at last. Perhaps this wasn't quite as terrible as she'd thought… Sure, it seemed kind of ridiculous to be here shopping now after she'd had to fight for her life half an hour ago. But perhaps that was why it was a good idea after all; a remedy for all the ghosts in her head, the fear and anxiety in her body. It might do her good to get some distance to the events before trying to understand them.

Thus for the next forty minutes Robin did her best to actually focus on the girls and on helping Cas with her shopping. They really had picked some nice things that weren't too over the top, and after Robin had given her commentary and evaluation as well, the selection Cas was left with was well worth their efforts. Robin was almost led to believe that allowing them to drag her here hadn't been quite such a terrible idea as she'd originally thought.

That was until Jorien and Cas were fooled enough by Robin's desperate efforts to push through this endeavor with the very last of her energy and enthusiasm to try to make her try things on as well. And that Robin really didn't have the mindset for today. Being alive was currently a higher priority to her than being well dressed, which the two younger girls of course had no understanding for. They couldn't, really, and Robin wouldn't burden them with it either. Thus she agreed to let them pick whatever while she would patiently stand in front of the mirror to let them gawk at the reflection, as long as she wouldn't have to actually physically change. Or make an effort to show sincere interest in any of the pieces any longer.

For a while the girls picked all kinds of both horrendous and actually quite nice pieces just to giggle and fawn over and Robin simply let them. As long as they were having fun, she couldn't care less if they made her reflection look like a clown or a magazine model. And while her reflection's garments changed from t-shirts to dresses to pajamas to lingerie, she resumed her pondering of Morgan's words and actions as well as her own. Ignoring the outside world as successfully as ever for a good twenty minutes at least.

"How strange…" Cas' half humoured and half confused huff was what pulled Robin back into the reality around her at last, and she followed the girl's line of sight to her underwear-clad reflection. Good gods… she looked like the closest thing to a piece of pastry she'd ever seen. Or an 18th century mistress. Or both.

"What's so strange?" Jorien asked a short moment later, and frowned at Robin's ridiculous reflection as well.

"I haven't really noticed before either, because I was admittedly distracted by the fun pieces of clothing, but it's really quite obvious now." Cas replied and crossed her arms over her chest with an almost smug expression. "Tell me, what do you see?"

Jorien scoffed, then rolled her eyes, but went to answer nonetheless. "Well, I see Robin, looking like an ancient painting of some royal hooker. Don't tell me you see any more than that in the mirror…"

The words sent a surge of immediate anxiety and adrenaline through Robin, and while she thought that it was due to the discomfort upon looking like a tart at first, the impression soon was replaced by the nagging in the back of her mind that picked up stronger than ever. Her mind started spinning too fast, thoughts tumbling over each other in both panic and reason. Gods, she could almost grasp the thought, the words that were haunting her now.

"Well duh…" Cas rolled her eyes, then tapped against the glass on the height of Robin's ribs. "There's no scar, idiots! As far as I remember, Robin has a rather visible scar on her rib cage, while the reflection doesn't. Isn't that odd? As if the reflection isn't even you."

A wall inside Robin's mind collapsed in that instant, and buried her under the impossible weight of its ashes. Its implications. She could hardly breathe. Paintings… Reflections… Scars… Earrings. A wild rush of adrenaline. Panic. She felt sick as soon as she finally understood.

"Robin, are you alright? You look terrible again… Did we say something wrong?" Jorien inquired instead of reacting to Cas' explanation, and half a second later both girls were gazing at her in concern. Robin had no capacity left to care that she worried them. She had no capacity for anything outside of her own mind.

"I need to get back to the castle. Now." She said in a quiet voice, staring at her own eyes in the mirror for just a moment longer before spinning on her heels and making for the shop's exit. Every cell in her body stood on edge, every emotion locked away behind the thickest walls she could muster up to cope with reality. Right now, she only needed reason, as much of it as she could get. And in a spurt of just that she looked over her shoulder at the two confused girls once more before she reached the door. "I'm sorry, I just remembered something very important that I have forgotten about for far too long. Do go on shopping without me though, and be sure to tell me all about it at dinner, yes?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, she was out of the door and on her way back to the castle. Her lungs hurt, heart racing, head spinning, and her eyes stung terribly from both the wind and unshed tears of raw anxiety. Perhaps it was only the shock of realisation hitting her, or perhaps she was really quite so scared. She didn't know if she hoped to be right or wrong in the unnerving suspicion that had fallen upon her like the darkest of night. Because frankly, either way would end in a nightmare.

______________________________

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@wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream @hayalee8 @lemonmochitea

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[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 3 (Jason Todd x Reader)

OKAY LEMME TELL YOU ALL I’VE NEVER POSTED ANYTHING THIS LONG. AND I’VE NEVER SMILED SO MUCH WHILE WRITING A SINGLE FIC IN MY LIFE. IT’S 2K WORDS LONGER THAN THE COMMANDER FINALE. TALK ABOUT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

REMEMBER WHY JADE WEST WAS SO ICONIC IN VICTORIOUS? READ ON!

WORDS: A WHOPPING 7404 WORDS FOR A SINGLE PART OF A SERIES WARNINGS: NEVER HAD THIS MUCH FLUFF IN MY LIFE

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Hands flat on Ms. Peterson’s desk, you flashed the brightest fake smile you could. She looked up from her computer, probably the fifth round of solitaire for the day, and cocked up an eyebrow. She did not at all look amused at you storming in.

But you’ve been in the library for twenty minutes and this woman has not given you anything to do to keep you in here.

“Listen, Ms. Peterson. As much as we just love hanging out in this outdated hellhole, I’d rather we go home than just sit here and do nothing for the next hour and a half.”

Her shaky hands didn’t flinch. And she turned her attention back at her screen.

“I’m told to keep you in here for another eight weeks. I’ve had this job for fifty years and I’m not about to lose it to two whiny brats.”

“She’s the only whiny brat here, Ms. P.” Jason rested his elbows on the desk and leaned over beside you. “If you let us out, it’ll be our little secret. C’mon.”

Obviously, that sort of trick works for Jason more times than it would for any ordinary person. But Ms. Peterson was not the one to charm with. And she had the same, dead look in her eye when she turned her head at the young man.

“Sit. Down.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t care. Just get your asses on those chairs and sit. Oh look! A person in need of service. There’s your job. Go do it.”

Only one guy was standing behind you. You snarled at him, eyes narrowed. You were almost growling beneath your breath which made him visibly stand back. Jason looked at him over his shoulder with less fear factor but with the same annoyance.

The sight of you both made him almost piss his pants.

“Uhm,” he gulped. “Can you please show me where sci fi books are at?”

You cocked up an eyebrow, glancing at your nails before nudging Jason with your shoulder. He grunted at you, giving you that same ‘I really fucking hate you’ look on his face he’s practically embedded onto his own skin by now. You shrugged, looking back at your nails. Then Jason stood straight and held the guy by the shoulder.

“Go through that aisle. Third shelf from the right.”

“He asked you to go with him, Todd.”

His glare on you was really starting to show. “He can find it himself.”

The poor guy gulped and viciously nodded to agree with Jason. He walked away, making sure not to catch your eye. You lifted your elbows from the librarian’s desk and spared the old lady another snarky look, to which she didn’t even bother to notice. Both of you sitting back on the empty table, Jason placed his arm crossed over the other on the surface and leaned his head over to at least try having a nap. His hair was all sprawled out. You, on the other hand, leaned back, head hanging on your neck, and closing your eyes hoping time would fly by faster that way.

It didn’t.

Two weeks. It had been two fucking weeks. And yet, you were far from being halfway through this macabre series of events. Why couldn’t you have just punched that Maxwell kid in the face? Or threatened to murder him in his sleep? Anything else would have been better. Anything that would’ve landed you in an entirely different situation than to be stuck here with an old woman stricter than a Belle Reeves prison guard.

You could either look at the windows out the library, find a book and actually read one of them (though if they had any more of Poe’s you’d likely get your hands on them).

Or just stare at the eye candy in front of you.

Your smirk was less obvious when you glanced over the veins on his large, muscled arms, folded on top of the other with his skin stretched. His thick, black hair that was long enough to cover most of his forehead, now sticking onto his arm. His neck that was long and thick, his thin shirt and how even more lean muscles would pop out when he’d unintentionally flex. You often caught sight of his stomach when he’d reach over a shelf that was at the top most level, and the ‘V’ shape on his skin was more than eminent enough for you to picture. He wasn’t absolutely huge, especially since he was just 17. But he was definitely fit.

You wouldn’t mind looking at that for a while. Not until he starts talking, anyway. For long minutes, that was what you did, then you got bored.

The tip of your boots kicked his shin under the table. He jumped up, startled, almost growling at you with dark bags under his eyes.

“The fuck do you want now?”

“Someone’s a bit angsty today,” your evil little smirk ticked off another of his nerves. You could tell. He let out a large sigh, started leaning back against the back of his chair, then spread out his arms behind his head to stretch.

Ooooooh shit. There is was. The veins.

“I didn’t sleep last night.” Jason finished stretching and went back to lean against the table. “You done gawking?”

“Cute.” You scrunched up your face to mock him. “I’m bored.”

“And what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Help me sneak out of here.”

“Two weeks here. You think I haven’t tried sneaking out once or twice? That woman’s got the eye of a fucking hawk.”

“Is there any other way out of here?”

“I doubt it.”

Your groan was indefinitely long, stretching the back of your neck when you opted to reach for your phone.

“I’m at three percent.”

Jason took out his own phone. “Mine’s at five.”

“That blackout from last night reach your monster mansion, too?”

He snarled at you and rolled his eyes. “Bruce has generators to power up the whole place when we need it.”

“Then why are you at five percent?”

“Because I’ve been tinkering on this sorry little fucker the last thirty minutes.” He held it up with just his fingers. It had a cracked screen. It looked too old to even be used. “Battery drains faster than my patience.”

“Can’t your new rich dad buy you another one?”

“He did. I don’t wanna use it. Just doesn’t feel like mine.”

“Ah. You're one of those guys. ‘My parents are rich, not me’ kind of dudes. You’re all the same kinds of annoying.”

“I don’t act all high and mighty, for your information.”

“I’m just saying,” you raised your arms up. “If I were you’d I’d at least enjoy his wealth. It’s stupid if you don’t take advantage of things you clearly already have.””

He silently shook his head and looked to the side like you wouldn’t understand even if you tried. Scoffing, you turned away, and you caught the eye of Maxwell, who had a sling on his arm still.

“Holy fuck,” you reached for your bag. “I can't believe I fucking forgot.”

“What?”

Pouring out the contents, you mumbled. “Help me with this thing and I swear I owe you a huge favor.”

“I think watching you wallow in your pain would be more worth my time.”

“That sounds more like my line. You’re taking after me. Good. And I’d say likewise if I wasn’t so desperate, Todd.” You started pouring out pieces of paper, a bottle of glue, and a pair of the largest scissors Jason’s ever seen.

“Is that-“

“The scissors that sent that guy to therapy?” You pointed at Maxwell. “Yes. Yes they are.”

“Jesus.” He took it from your hands. “No fucking wonder.”

“Stop ogling and help me.”

“What the fuck are you supposed to do?”

“Remember the project that kid spilled his coffee on? This is it. I finished it that day and now I have to do it all over again. They gave me another two weeks to do it and I completely forgot about it until now. I’m supposed to make a stained-glass kind of picture. But with cutting pieces of colored paper.”

Jason took the paper you had on the table.

“These are all white, black, gray, and one sheet that’s dark red.”

You shrugged. “I like working with those colors. Now help me. I wanna do this.” You pulled out your phone and showed him a saved photo of one you’d like to copy. He almost jumped out of his seat when you suddenly showed him a picture of a deranged clown with a big red nose, a smile much larger than half his face, and eyes dark and dwelling enough to give him nightmares.

“I wanna know what type of dark shit you’re on.”

“It’s just a clown.”

“I am not helping you on your little art project.”

“Please.” Your hands were down, your eyes widened but not the threatening kind. And your voice, it was definitely the softest he’s ever heard it. Twitching an eyebrow like he was watching your every move, Jason didn’t flinch.

He looked at the clock. Then back at you with his eyeballs rolled all the way around.

“You’re lucky I literally have nothing better to do.”

You propped your shoulders up and gave him a black piece of paper and a pair of scissors. “Great. Cut these into the shapes I drew here.”

A disgruntled groan and a sharp snatch from your hands, Jason looked just as cranky as you usually were. It was amusing. He glared at you and you just smiled back. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Shut up and get to work.”

Your eyes lingered a bit longer on him, even when he’d started to fiddle with your too-large scissors, and you rolled your eyes with a bit of a smile.

“What’s making you so grumpy today?”

He didn’t bother looking up at you. His brows were all scrunched up as he cut the black piece of paper.

“I told you. I didn’t get to sleep last night. I was… out. Why are you grumpy all the time?”

You squinted your eyes at him then went to work. Carefully, he went through the first paper and gave you the shapes you wanted. You set aside your own batch and you took out the larger, white paper on which you’d glue it all on.

“Okay. Give me the shapes.”

You took out the glue and started pouring it on the paper.

“You’re doing it all wrong.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You clearly don’t.” He snatched it from you and started wiping the glue off with his finger, spreading it around. “I can't believe I’m fucking doing this.”

“And what are you doing exactly?” you snarled.

“Pouring the glue in will make it all sticky. You should’ve traced over the outer lines so it wouldn’t crumple.”

“I know that.” You took the glue away from him again, then placed the shape onto the paper. “One down.”

“Fucking kill me now.”

“Keep cutting. I’ll handle the glue.”

“Do it right, then.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. He started again with your scissors and went back to snipping off the pieces of paper. Gluing the shapes one by one, you started taking out a red marker and traced the outlines to mimic the flow of blood.

Jason stared at it, then at you, eyes wide with disbelief, then went back to his scissors.

“Excuse me,” a girl went up to you. A freshman, you could tell. “That lady told me you could show me to the young adult section?”

“No. Go away.”

You kept with your glue, not even looking at the girl who just stared at you awkwardly. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep, long sigh. “Go down that aisle. Fifth shelf. Down the very end.”

“Uh. Thanks.” She walked over to where Jason was pointing at. You still didn’t look up from your work. And instead, watched on as Jason continued with cutting the shapes. “You need to chill.”

“Finish those up. That’s the last one.”

Jason rolled his eyes even more, angrily cutting through the pieces of red paper the size of the clown’s big red nose. He dropped the scissors onto the table and just continued to watch you gluing the pieces together with way too much glue.

He gave you no warning before grabbing the glue bottle from you and the shapes, stretching his arm out so you can't reach them.

“TODD.”

“YOU’RE RUINING THE WHOLE THING.”

“NO, I’M NOT.” You cursed with his name and stood up from your chair, reaching out with your arms all the way to him while he desperately wiped off the excess glue for your sake. “GIVE THAT BACK.”

“SIT DOWN.” He cried back at you.

You heard the shrillest shush Ms. Peterson has ever made, before you went back to fumbling with Jason. Your table was at the far end, and she was no longer at your line of sight. He held your wrist, wiping off the rest of the glue, then finally handed the bottle back to you. Putting the shapes onto the paper, you groaned when you slumped back on the chair.

“It looks horrible,” he tried to stifle a laugh.

“Fuck you.”

“At least you’re almost done, right?”

“You put the glue on the shapes then, genius. I’ll paste them on.”

Grumbling with his deep voice, he took the glue bottle and swiped the shapes back over to him. Using thin, barely visible lines, he was so stingy with the glue you wanted to tear your hair out.

“That won't even stick to a fly trap.”

“You want your work to look all crumpled? Go ahead.”

“Just put a bit more.”

“I have the fucking glue bottle,” his eyebrows were raised. “You sit there and wait for me, then you stick them yourself. Start with this.”

He slammed a shape onto the table and you took it, careful not to hit your fingers with the glue. Biting into your gums, you wondered how you’ll be able to handle yet another eight weeks with his kid.

Your bickering didn’t even stop there. It went on, and Jason had to cut even more shapes to make up for some that were far too small. He was practically yelling at this point, and you weren’t about to get yelled at and not respond.

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO CUT THEM, DINGUS.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THE RIGHT FUCKING SIZE.”

“I GAVE YOU THE PATTERN. YOU ONLY HAD TO FOLLOW IT.”

“WELL I WOULD HAVE IF YOUR SCISSORS WEREN’T SO DAMN BIG.”

“THEY’RE THE BEST PAIR IN EXISTENCE. YOU JUST CAN'T HANDLE IT.”

“I THINK I CAN HANDLE A PAIR OF SCISSORS.”

“THEN WHY CAN'T YOU CUT BETTER THAN A FUCKING SEVEN-YEAR-OLD.”

“’CUZ THEY DON’T HAVE A FUCKING PARROT SCREAMING AT THEM EVERY FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES.”

The silent yelling didn’t stop. At the end, your voices were too loud that Ms. Peterson would’ve eventually shushed you for the last time and probably throw her slipper at you. Thankfully, she’d gone out to the bathroom and you were left alone.

Everyone else had left. It was almost 5 pm, and you refused to go if your project still wasn’t finished.

“This. Is. The worst day. Of my entire life. And I used to live in the streets.”

“You're not going anywhere. Stay.”

A deep, agonizingly painful groan. He slumped onto the table and buried his face into his arms. “Why can't you just kill me?”

Another set of long minutes, with your attention directly at the glue and scraping off the excess to make it look presentable. It didn’t actually look that bad. The second set of cut shapes were just the right size. Jason didn’t bother looking up. He might have even fallen asleep with you being silent for the longest time since you got there.

No one was left in the library, and it was just starting to get dark.

“Aaaaand THERE.” You placed the finished project onto the table and clapped your hands together in a grinning happiness. Jason, on the other hand, looked as good as dead.

“You may go.”

“You owe me fucking big time, kid.”

You smirked at him when he violently pushed his chair back, grabbed his backpack and went out for the door. You took your time, especially since going home late didn’t seem like such a drag anymore when Dad moved back in. You carefully slipped your collage into your folder and slung your bag over your shoulder.

Jason was still standing in front of the door, hand frozen on the handle you pushed him away and turned it, only for your hand to come at an abrupt stop and the sound of gears halting its turn.

“Where the fuck is Mother Goose?”

“The bathroom-“

But she wasn’t at the bathroom. Unless Ms. Peterson took her large purse and computer along with her to the toilet, she probably wasn’t in there.

“Are we-“

“There has to be a key here.” Jason rummaged through the librarian’s desk. Every drawer he could forcefully pull out, he did.

You pulled out your phone, which was a dead 0%, the image of a drained-out battery staring back at you, and that’s when you started to feel the panic slowly rise. You rushed to the library’s telephone, but you couldn’t even hear a dial tone. The phone was off. Jason’s phone was probably just as dead.

You rushed to the lights to turn them on, but nothing happened.

Fuck. Another blackout. FUCK.

“No key,” he rested his hands on the table. “Shit. FUCK.”

You only stared at each other, feeling that panic start to settle in when you realized you were out of options.

“M-Maybe. Your dad will come pick us up?”

Jason shook his head. “The last time I ran away for the night, he said he wasn’t gonna go around Gotham to pick me up anymore.” He looked at you. “Your parents?”

“Said the exact same thing.”

Your back hit the wall, and you slid down with your head up in the ceiling. Both silent. None of you even said it out loud.

Jason looked like he wanted to scream.

-----

You laid on your back, flat against the table, with just your arm over your eyes to shield it from the light posts outside the window on the driveway. You tried to drown out Jason’s fiddling with his lock pick and the door handle. Two hours had passed, and you’d barely gone by the evening.

“That’s not gonna work.”

“You have a better option, Lydia Deetz?”

You clenched your jaw and sneered. “You’ve been at it for an hour.”

“I’m almost through this.” He kept with his pick, a hairpin he found on the ground which he spent another hour looking for. “Juuuust- THERE!”

You shot up from the table, feet landing enthusiastically onto the floor and you sprinted to Jason’s back. “Here’s to freedom.”

Too eagerly, he turned the handle and pulled the door with a victorious grin.

Only for his hand to jolt at another abrupt stop. The door wouldn’t budge, only peering open through an inch. The grin on his face was immediately lost, and he almost feel out of his feet when you violently pushed him away, pulling on the door yourself and failing.

You could see the deadbolt, but something outside was holding the double doors from opening, no matter which one you pulled on.

“That batshit crazy old witch,” you growled. “Fucking chain locked the door.”

A loud, frustrated groan from Jason as he threw the hairpin to the ground like he would’ve a knife. “WHO CHAIN LOCKS A LIBRARY?”’

You walked away from the door, going back to the tables so you could bend over and stuff your face into your hands. Jason was even more of a mess.

Your dad started his first big fight with mom since he moved back in last night, just when you thought they’d finalized the divorce, he squirms back in. And your room was never far enough to drown out their screams.

That night you wished you were somewhere else. And you ended up somewhere even worse.

Jason was sitting on the floor, back flat against the wall, and his eyes were shut close while you laid back down on top of the table.

“I’m hungry.”

“The fuck you want me to do about that?” Jason kept his eyes shut.

“You got any food?”

“No.”

“Don’t you have something in your bag?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“You think you can stab me with those scissors? ‘Cuz I feel like choking on my own blood right now.”

You rolled over so you were laying on your stomach. Craning your head up to look at Jason, your chin resting on your fingers, you grinned. “I’d rather not spend the night being stuck with your rotting flesh. I’ll kill you in the morning.”

Jason screamed into his hands. “We are not gonna be stuck here until fucking morning.”

“Either you die tonight still in denial or we actually try to survive. Now do you have anything in your bag or what?”

He didn’t give in to picking out his bag without leaving you a dark glare. The sky was completely dark by now. And the only light source you had were three lamp posts outside the window. The power was still off, which meant it was going to be this dark the whole fucking night.

“Would you look at that?” He took out a small protein bar from his smaller pocket. “Forgot that was there.”

You jumped off the table again. “Great. I’m starving.”

You walked too fast to Jason, who immediately stood up and hold you by the shoulder, raising his hand away from your reach. “Ey. Mine. From my bag, remember?”

“I don’t have anything in mine!” you reached and tried to push him, but had no luck against his strength. “Come on!”

“I have way more body mass than you. I need this.”

You pursed your lips, glowering at him even when you knew he still wouldn’t budge. He kept pushing your shoulder from him until you backed away reluctantly.

“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT?”

You whined and grunted with your back hitting the wall. Jason stepped away facing you and opened the protein bar, took a large bite that left it with almost a third of the whole thing left.

“You know. That thing with the scissors stuck into your neck doesn’t seem like a bad idea anymore.” You grumbled.

Chewing profusely at the bar, he folded his one arm over his chest and smirked while watching you silently grovel in annoyance. You leaned on your side and made sure he wouldn’t hear your stomach starting to growl.

“Fine,” he groaned. “Here.”

A little over a quarter of the protein bar left. Jason handed it over to you and you gritted your teeth.

“There’s barely anything left, you bile-headed twat.”

“You want me to finish it?”

Snatching the bar away from him, you cursed under your breath right before you gobbled up what was left of the snack. It did little to nothing to make you feel less hungry, but at least you weren’t going to die.

“You're welcome.”

You threw the wrapper onto the floor and went back to sitting on the table. “Got anymore bright ideas?”

“Maybe if you’d help, I’d actually be able to tolerate you.”

Jason walked over to the classics shelf, pulled out a book and did the same as you. He swung his legs over on top of the table across you, bringing his knees up so he could rest his elbows on them. He then opened his book.

“You're reading,” you bit your gums. “You’re actually reading at a time like this.”

“What else are we supposed to do in a fucking library?”

Your hands met the surface of the table behind you and you threw your head back. “We have at least until the power comes back on. GOD, this place in insufferable.”

“Never mind the helping. You shutting up would be enough not to drive me insane.”

“And you're less of an ass when you're not a grouch, dickhead.”

“I’m ignoring you now.”

The vein on your forehead started to throb. You weren’t tired yet, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at this hour even if you tried. You rolled around the table, desperate for any position that wouldn’t drive your limbs numb.

You jolted when you heard Jason curse.

“This fucking lamp post’s too dim. Can't even see shit.”

He set the book aside, laid down on his back and watched the ceiling with you.

“How did we even get locked up?”

“Maybe if you didn’t keep me captive with that stupid clown project for three hours we wouldn’t be in the mess.”

“So it’s my fault now? You're the one who fell asleep!”

“How could you have possibly missed the time? You know the library closes at five!”

“I didn’t fucking know that! I leave before that old witch does every time!”

“Just-.” Jason shut his eyes. “Can we stop screaming for ONE SECOND? Especially since we’re gonna stuck here the whole night?!”

The mocking noise you made was almost inhuman. Jason didn’t bother snarling back.

You saw a car pass by, the headlights shining through the window for the shortest moment. You kneeled on the table and waved your arms around.

“HEY. GET US OUT OF HERE!”

The car kept moving, and the headlights passed through the whole of the window until it left. You slumped back to lay down and groaned. “Fuck everything.”

You grabbed your bag, rummaging through everything inside just to find anything to do or anything that could possibly help you. Nothing. Not even a fan to cool you off when you started to feel the temperature rise.

“Did you call the number I gave you?”

You licked your teeth. “I used the piece of paper you gave me as a bookmark.”

Jason lifted his arm off his head. “No shame in asking for help.”

“I told you, I’m not being fucking abused.” You started picking on the leather of your boots, tracing along the creases of where your toes folded. “I don’t know what the hell made you think I was.”

“It doesn’t have to be actual physical abuse,” he sat up on his elbows.

“You really wanna make us feel uncomfortable? Why do you come to school with bruises all the time?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna fucking tell you, Y/LN.”

“Fine. Then let’s not talk about this.”

You had that usual condescending tone, but you didn’t sound like you were on the verge of lashing out. You sounded like you were pleading, even. Jason bit his lower lip. “Okay. What do you wanna talk about? It’s too early to sleep.”

You brought your knees up to sit cross legged and you leaned in on your elbows.

“Wanna play a game?”

Jason drummed his fingers on the table and sighed. “What?”

You scooched closer to him and swung your legs over the edge of the table. He did the same and faced you. “Give me your hand.”

“What?”

“Just give me your hand, Todd. Don’t be a pussy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Then give me your hand.”

Jason snorted, leaning his elbow over his lap and giving his other hand over to you. You took it, smiling at him, then gripping firmly onto his wrist. “Make a fist.”

He fisted his hand and you could see a few veins pop out on his arm. You started rubbing the outside of his fingers. His eyes scrunched up, watching you. “Open your hand.”

He opened it, then you lightly slapped it with your own palm. “Fist,” you said again. He breathed and pulled it again to a fist. You repeated your first action with a growing smirk. “If I come out of this with one hand left-“

“Shut up. Open again.”

He opened his palm. And with a single finger, you tapped onto the center of his hand, then released your grip on his wrist.

Jason widened his eyes, amused. “It tingles.”

“I know right.” You folded your arms.

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“That’s a secret.”

He then reached out his other hand to you. “Do it again.”

You laughed and snorted before grabbing his wrist, rubbed his fingers the same way you did the first time. Jason leaned over closer to look at your movements, and his nose was all scrunched up like it would when he was focused on a book. The corner of your mouth lifted, then you tapped his hand with your finger and let go.

“What sorcery is this?”

You shrugged, leaning back and folding your arms. “You have any tricks of your own?”

“Yes I do,” he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “Hold out your hand.”

You did so without hesitation. Jason held your fist, then looked straight at you. “Pick a finger and don’t tell me what it is.”

“Okay?” Your ring finger. Easy enough.

“Look straight into my eyes. Don’t look down.”

You rolled your eyes slightly to the side, licking the inside of your teeth, then did as told.

He was looking straight at you, not even trying to blink. A smirk formed on his lips, and his eyes had that same flick of a glare, but there was a little shine on them from the dim lamp post. You shook your head while still maintaining eye contact and felt his other hand start toying with your fingers.

“It’s your ring finger.”

“Huh,” you shuffled closer to him. “Do it again. I wanna watch your hands.”

“No. You have to look straight at my eyes.”

“Fine. Just do it again. I’ll pay more attention.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and you both tried your best to hold back emerging bursts of laughter while he continued to toy with your fingers and trying not to blink.

“You're not choosing a finger.” He said.

“Not true. You just suck.”

It was true. You forgot to choose a finger. The middle finger this time. You shifted your focus, but the way he’d try to hold back a laugh made you choke. “Stop laughing.”

“I’m not.” He so was. You felt him touch your fingers, moving around them one by one. “You’re trying to look for movements.”

“Nope. It’s the middle finger.” He kept at it. Over and over, with you refusing to admit he read your mind.

His hands started feeling warmer each time. You didn’t know you noticed.

-----

A bustling, screeching noise of a cart being hauled around the room for the past ten minutes. You’ve been here for five hours. You were tired, starving, and sweating. You covered most of your face and ears with your hands, but the cart’s noises just kept going.

You shot up from the table. “DUDE. STOP.”

You normally had more insults to scream at him, but at that point of the night, you were all out.

Jason kept going and ignored you. Starting from one end of the library, he pushed the handles of the empty cart, accelerating it with his feet. When he gained the momentum, he placed his feet on the metal and rode it across the room. “Real mature.”

“Don’t be an old hag.”

He accelerated again from the opposite end, then climbed on. Jason went faster this time and just narrowly missed a shelf.

“There’s another cart right there if you have the balls to join me.”

You placed your weight on your arm, watching Jason sprint from one end of the room to the next. With a loud grunt, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, you jumped off the table.

You emptied the cart from the remaining books and pushed it to Jason’s side, who waited for you just by the shelves. “Jump when it speeds up.”

“I know what to do.”

He laughed. “Race you to the other side.”

You gripped on the handle firmly, watching the end of the room, the one lined with heavy bookshelves, and readied yourself. “GO.”

You sprinted the two carts and grabbed on with your life as you sped down the large enough room, feeling the air slightly cooler when it was rushing past your skin and hair. You laughed playfully, stopping just before you hit the shelf. “I win.”

“Are you kidding me? I was waiting for you.”

“One more lap.”

“You’re on.”

Again, you sped past the room. You held onto one side of the handle too hard and accidentally hit Jason’s cart, both of you almost tumbling to the ground. “I call foul!”

“It was an accident!” you laughed, then took the cart again to finish the lap. He caught up with you and you no longer stopped in between, continuously sprinting and jumping onto the metal all across the room. You rode past the shelves, the narrow aisles, narrowly missing the books. You almost hit the tables with the carts and you definitely hit the wall too hard when you stopped too late. Jason was trailing right beside you, then he went about his own route.

That’s when he purposefully hit the front your cart with your own, throwing you off on the ground. “FUCK”

He laughed too hard. “Come on. I have another game.”

Holding his hand out to you, you grabbed on and he pulled you up to your feet. You stood close to him, both of you still laughing. And you were staring too long at his face being close to yours. You pulled away from his lingering grip, looking at the ground.

Setting his own cart aside, he pulled on yours, settling it between the aisle of the shelves. It went straight through the longest path down the room, and you’d have to be lucky to miss the shelves. “Hop on.”

“Todd, if you throw me out the window-“

“Come on. Don’t be a pussy.”

You felt the rush, and you liked how free you felt rushing through the air. You climbed into the cart, grabbing hold of the edges and focused on the end of the room.

Jason leaned in to your ear. “Don’t scream.”

“JASON.”

He was incredibly strong, pushing you in the cart like you weighed nothing and sped through the room faster than he previously had. The cart was growling and was so ready to break apart, but you never felt that kind of thrill since you last rode a coaster. You definitely screamed, a high-pitched shriek you know Jason must never mention to anyone, ever. But you were also laughing your stomach out when Jason turned you around, sped to the other end again. And this time, his feet jumping onto the cart.

You threw your head back, laughing, then you caught a glimpse of his face flashing the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

Your laughter came to an abrupt stop when he stopped the cart too late and crashed against the shelf. You both stood still, watching it toppling like an unsteady jenga tower.

Holding your breath, you heard books fall to the floor, then the shaking mellowed down and you released your breaths when it finally stopped. Turning to Jason and falling into the cart laughing, you clutched at your stomach. “JESUS CHRIST.”

“Not funny!” he cried out, but even he was stifling a laugh. He walked over to the front and placed the books into the cart with you. Some fell on your lap, and you took the books from him and placed them to your side.

“At least we have something to do now.”

“Yeah. Especially since you put these books in the wrong shelf. These belong over there.” He pointed to a shelf nearby.

“Let’s fix it then,” you said, still not moving from the cart. He placed all the books from the floor onto you and moved the cart to the corner.

“You’re heavy.”

“Shut up. From now on, we shelf books this way.” You took a book from your lap and gave it to him, who placed the book in its right place.

“Top shelf,” you smirked.

“I know where to put them.” He took it from your hand and shoved it in place. You didn’t have many books to begin with, but even after that, he continued to push the cart, with you still hitching a ride, and you walked around the library to just look at all the books.

“Everything’s in the right section.”

“Because of me. You made a shit ton of mistakes.”

You threw your head back, looking at him. And from that angle you could see his glare turn into a smile. You leaned against the back of the cart, your head lightly touching his arm.

When you’ve managed to tour the whole library, you sat up.

“You're turn. Get in here.”

Jason wanted to laugh at that. “You’d never be able to lift me.”

“Watch me try.”

You hopped off the cart, pushing him aside from the handle. He shook his head, but eventually climbed on like you had. He was bigger than you, so he looked a lot more uncomfortable with his knees folded way up and his arms barely fitting inside the cart.

He was really heavy. But you managed. Pushing the cart slowly at first, Jason leaned in to the left side to steer you off. “Jason!”

“I see stray books. Go over there.”

You pushed the cart with whatever might you had. When you reached the desk, Jason took the books you previously set aside and placed them on his lap. “Braille,” he said. “These go all the way to the back.”

“I can handle this. I’m a big girl.”

You pushed the cart, eventually gaining speed, but it wasn’t nearly as fast as when he’d pushed you around. You reached the far back, with two sharp turns that nearly killed your back, then stopped with a loud breath.

“You're right. We should do this more often.”

You were panting by that time, and Jason handed you the books to place on the shelf. “Chop chop.”

-----

Two fucking am. The power was still out. Jason was definitely going to call the electricity company when you both get out of here. You were sat cross legged on one side of the long, narrow table, fiddling with your sleeves since you couldn’t sleep. He was laying on the same table but facing the opposite way, closing his eyes and feeling the beginnings of light slumber. His back was going to kill him eventually, but when the rush from that cart fiasco died down, he was so awfully tired.

Jason laid his head on his arm, closing his eyes as tightly as he could.

Then a warm, soothing melody started to buzz through his ears, a tune he’s never quite heard of before. His eyelids suddenly grew softer, feeling the humming song vibrate through him.

Where was it coming from?

He slowly opened his eyes, trying to find the source. Jason craned his head up to you, with your back turned to him, and realized you were the one humming.

You turned to him, and he went back to closing his eyes, pretending to sleep. “Jason?” you lightly asked, not enough to wake him if he was actually asleep. You turned your back around and crouched over to relax.

He wasn’t sleeping anymore, but he kept closing his eyes. A little while later, with you thinking he wasn’t conscious, he heard you actually start to sing.

 You got a fast car

I want a ticket to anywhere

Maybe we make a deal

Maybe together we can get somewhere

Anyplace is better

Starting from zero got nothing to lose

Maybe we'll make something

Me, myself I got nothing to prove

 Then you paused. Your voice was so soft and light, he never would’ve have heard it if there was anyone else in the room or if he wasn’t awake. You never would’ve sung if you knew he was, though.

You had the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard in his life.

 You got a fast car

I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won't have to drive too far

Just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs

And finally see what it means to be living

 Your voice was low, a beautiful, vibrating low. An alto. And there was that deep, breathy growl when you reached the lower notes with ease. A light vibrato at the end of the vowels, and there was that drowsy, slow feel to it that just made it seem like you didn’t make that much effort at all. At some points, you whispered the words, like your everyday screaming never affected your vocal chords at all.

There was a tug at his chest, his face started to burn up. He was wide awake by now, and there was that thudding within him that was too hard to ignore. And it worsened each time you breathed out the end of the verses.

You managed to finish the song, and by then, he was a mess.

You didn’t sing anything more, no matter how much he wished you would. He ended up fighting his tiredness, just in case he’d miss another song.

But right before he drifted to sleep, he realized he’d been smiling his cheeks off.

-----

Twelve hours.

You were stuck in the library.

For twelve fucking hours.

Both of you shot up from the table the moment you heard the chains outside the door clink to the ground. You and Jason raced out the door, and before the security guard could totally open it, you violently pushed it aside and raced out into the wide-open space of the driveway outside the gates. The poor guard looked puzzlingly at you. But since he was too old to care or even ask about what happened, he shrugged it off.

The cool air felt heavenly against your skin, and the bright sun, smiling back at you against your face. You spread your arms out and took in the breeze as much as you could. Jason was fanning himself with the collar of his shirt, raising his arms up the same way you were. “AHHHHH.” He screamed. And you did the same. The frustration went out the window as fast as you’d ran.

“FUCKING FINALLY.”

“THAT IS NEVER HAPPENING AGAIN.”

“NEVER.”

You faced the sky, still taking the deep, fresh intakes of air. Jason placed his hands on his hips and ruffled his sweat covered hair.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Agreed,” you said. “Not even Ms. Peterson.”

“Not a single soul.”

You both faced each other, raising your brows, no longer from a glare or out of annoyance. Your body felt light. Your chest felt lighter. You were smiling.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Kudos to us for surviving.”

A high five. And you both laughed, still feeling that flush of relief flow throughout your limbs. No one was in school yet. It was Saturday, though. No one but a few of the faculty members were going to show up.

But the sky looked pink, mixed with a bright yellowish orange. The driveway never looked so clean, and the breeze was so wonderfully cold, with the autumn leaves still floating on the grass and the roads, you just felt happy. Your lingering gaze on Jason helped with that bright smile.

As if twelve hours in the library was nothing. As if it wasn’t torture at all.

As if it was, in fact, the most fun you’ve had in a single night in a long, long time.

“Walk safe.”

“Bye, Todd.”

Walking towards opposite ends of the sidewalk, hands on your sides and not in your pockets like you usually would. You couldn’t stop grinning.

Sparing one last glance behind you, seeing him get on his motorcycle, you turned to the corner of the street.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-------

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH PLS TELL ME YOU ENJOYED THAT CUZ I CERTAINLY DID

THE SINGING SCENE IS REALLY INSPIRED BY LIZ GILLIES (REMEMBER THE READER IS BASED ON JADE WEST) SO THE FAST CAR SINGING SCENE WAS ACTUALLY INSPIRED BY THIS VIDEO

Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nugget http-cherries shadowsndaisies 

#Jason todd #Jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader fluff #Jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #robin x reader #red hood x reader #red hood #robin #dc comics #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

[thecandywrites]

Micro-mermaid Chenera Part 3 Finally

Last and final part. Short and sweet. This was fun. I should do another series for Mermay 2022. Again, sorry Mermay 2021 I was late, by like, two months. But hey, better late than never? Hope you enjoyed reading this. I should have named this series, Against All Odds but it didn't occur to me until I was proofreading this last part. Oh well. Enjoy.

Micro-Mermaids

Chenera

Part 3

A few days later, you were all at the subadult stage to set your permanent adult colors as your parents seemed eager to get rid of their current brood so they could have some peace and quiet and start a new brooding season as Ethel scooped all of you up and put you into the colors tank with the other chameleon beta micros and it was almost instantaneous that your siblings began changing and morphing while pairing up with others from the other pairs and there was something in the water that seemed to accellerate the maturation process as you could feel yourself already start to form eggs within your abdomen as the males were already fighting for the attention of your sisters as your brothers could have any pick of any other female in the tank. Their fancy and flashy colors and bountiful fins were impressive but in your mind and heart, they were no match for Nona.

So here you sat, on the only part of the tank with black obsidian rocks, looking bittersweetly at your tail that still had Nona’s pattern on it and still missing him, and having no desire to ‘pair up’ with any of the others.

“Hey, you need to pair up.” Your sister Dina insisted as she took a break from her many suitors who were trying to playfully chase her around the tank.

“I am not attracted to any of the others.” You argued as you refused to move or even look at any other.

“Chenera, listen to me, if you don’t find a mate in this tank right here right now, you’ll be left as a single, and be sold as a single and put into a single’s tank where you stand a very slim chance of finding an equally attractive mate. And even if you don’t find a mate there, there are other breeders who specifically look for single females just to put them into harems, where you’ll be forced to mate with their males, who may be far more aggressive and mean and cruel than the ones from Ethel’s tanks who have been bred to treat the females with tender loving care. And you’ll have to compete with the other females just to be laid with, and you’ll raise your clutches all alone and your life span will be half of what it can be with a mated pair like this. I know you miss Nona, but he is a guppy micro, you’re a betta micro, a gold chameleon one at that. Your worth far exceeds his and there is no hope of ever meeting him again, let alone ever breeding with him. Betta micros can be two to three times the size of guppies and interbreeding among the different kinds never works, it's been tried and it usually ends in failures. Follow his own advice and let him go completely. If you wish to be all black, then so be it. But keeping this guppy pattern will only hurt your worth and keep the other males away, they're allready calling you "guppy girl" do you really want to be known as that for the rest of your life? You have to know that you're better than that! You have been through more than they could ever dream of, you may be smaller than the rest of us but you're stronger than any and all of us, you're a warrior, you beat up a dwarf gourami for crying out loud! You could bank on that and get that big red male over there instead of moping on this black rock at the bottom. It's either this or the harems by other breeders who would scoup you up in a heartbeat because you're different, but not in a good way. Do you want to die so quickly and so horribly?” She pressed anxiously.

You looked at her and just felt pity for her before you looked out over the tank of other potential mates, and while they did look strong and handsome, they were still no match for Nona in your heart and you just curled in on yourself, hugging your tail that still had Nona’s pattern on it, it was a sorry excuse for the real Nona but it was all you had before you found a cave and hid yourself away in it and dismissed every male that tried to approach, even getting aggressive towards the more insistant ones before all the males bonded to the others instead, leaving you alone completely.

The next day Ethel came back and happily scooped up the different pairs into separate bags for the shop as she counted up how many pairs she had before she noticed there were still a few unmated girls in the tank since these clutches were a bit girl heavy because the ratios were never perfectly equal, which was a good thing because the last batch of betta micros were boy heavy and the boys were getting a little too eager to mate up with a betta woman.

“Ok, all the others into the net now, I’ll put in with the single female tank.” Ethel said before you finally left your cave and swam into the net with the other females and into its own bag before you simply sat at the bottom of the bag, feeling the water shift with the motion of the car as Ethel drove you and your siblings and their mated pairs to the shop before she dumped the mated pairs into their own little tanks as the pairs eagerly hid away in the caves to start the mating process after their first meal in their new enclosures before you were dumped into another larger tank and there was only a pane of glass with several holes that separated the females from the males who were all waiting by the holes to see the new girls that didn’t get into mated pairs as the other girls eagerly swam around to the different holes to meet the guys who were a few to several cycles older than they were but who were desperate and eager to find a mate.

But one look at them and none of them were anything close to Nona, so you ignored their calls out to you as you found a cave-like hide and began digging under it, moving the sand and gravel out of your way to make a crevice like cave under the hide before you got to work, taking your long gold hair and putting it into a bun to collect and tear up bits of foliage to line your new cave with, just like how you used to with Nona and by the time you were done, Ethel came back by and noticed the new pairs and eagerly scooped them up and put them into their new enclosures as you settled into your new cave under the hide as your eggs began to mature, waiting to be fertilized but you kept them inside you and simply re-absorbed them. If Nona himself was not going to fertilize your eggs, you were never going to lay any as you fought with your own instincts to pair up and mate as you stared determinedly at Nona’s pattern on your tail.

Meanwhile on the other side where a line of guppy micro tanks were, Nona was doing the same exact thing, he had been here for over a week, and had dodged and ditched every attempt every female who tried to mate with him, even though his own instincts were screaming at him to try to mate with every mature and available female present, but if none of them were you, he was never going to pair up or mate with any other female as he worked on collecting new foliage for his cave under the hide, which was made a little difficult since he had grown into a pretty impressive guppy micro male. He still sorely missed you, and he had vowed he would keep doing this in remembrance of you for as long as he would live and if he could not fertilize your eggs, he would fertilize no one else’s. And he would continue to live his life alone, but committed and faithful to his memory of you. That sounded better than passing on what little good his own personal genetics had to another guppy woman who would only like him for his flashy colors and handsome pattern instead of his personality. That and no other guppy woman, could come close to your beauty.

“So what’s the story with this girl?” Amy asked as she walked by the beta tanks and saw you instantly dive towards your cave under the hide and noticed your unique coloring and pattern.

“Oh that one, that’s Chenera, she’s actually a gold headed chameleon betta micro- her siblings are all the ones you see with the same gold head and gold hair but much prettier colors. But when Ethel’s house was broken into by fairies when she was a youngling, one fairy yanked her out of her tank and tried stealing other younglings from the odds and ends tank when they dropped her into that tank. A betta micro’s instincts are always to hide, so she hid in a little cave under one of the hides in the tank and she ended up growing up in that tank with guppy micros, dwarf gouarmi micros, molly micros and all that, so that’s why she has that guppy pattern to her because chameleons change to their environment but at a certain stage when you put the sub adults into a brightly colored tank filled with semi precious stones and surrounded by those shimmering fabrics, they change themselves into these gorgeous colors. But she never did. So she’s actually on sale, but I don’t think she’ll ever breed for you because she has rejected every single male that’s ever met her, sometimes aggressively so, I think she’d be best as a pet only.” Samantha explained, repeating what Channel had told everyone at work.

“So she’s been through hell, like me, I’ll take her.” Amy said before she went around the store and bought everything she could for the perfect micro beta tank and all the foods and things she would need, including some guppy flakes because if you had grown up eating some micro fish flakes, you’d probably like to have them supplement your diet and it would be comforting to you as Samantha put a “sold” marker on the tank with your name and description on it and once Amy’s tank had been set up and stabilized, Amy came back and took you to your new home a week later.

The whole way though, you cried because you feared your sister’s words were about to come true but once your bag was put into the water and you looked around the new tank, you didn’t see any other micros in the tank and you didn't smell any other either as you looked from the tank to your new owner in confusion and once she tilted the bag so that you could swim out, you called out to see if any others were in the tank but were hiding before you tentatively explored the tank, discovering it before you realized- you were alone. You were not going to be forced to breed after all which was a big relief for you.

Granted it was going to be a lonely life but you were no stranger to solitude at this point. This tank was perfect. It was larger than your parent’s tank, it had been previously used, it wasn’t a brand new tank either, but it had been salvaged and refurbished and most of the plants had clearly come from some kind of sale since most of them had damaged leaves or broken stalks but in the new environment, they were regrowing and thriving with the proper care now, it had a surprising variety of foliage and mosses and little snails to eat up algae, mostly sand at the bottom, really soft sand too and a few spots of brightly colored gravel and several patches of moss you could lay in and soak up the rays from the lights. It had multiple caves and hides of all sizes and even a really nice amethyst geode, which is what Amy could afford, after she spent what she had on everything else since you had been on sale for such a steep discount and Samantha had given her everything else for practically a song because Amy was “rescuing” you and Samantha got to unload the less “pretty and perfect” items in the shop to help set up Amy’s tank because from a business perspective, you were kind of a “lost cause” but that didn’t mean your story was any less compelling, especially to Amy who was a self proclaimed bleeding heart.

But for Amy, she was used to rescuing those who needed rescuing as she had her fair share of three legged animals or one eyed animals or birds who had plucked out most of their feathers and were now sporting little “sweaters” and micro- mermaids now completed her menagerie.

And with a peaceful heart you realized the special geode that your new owner had bought for you and the way it had been placed in the sand that there was already a very soft cave under the geode, already prepared for you that you didn’t necessarily need to line with foliage to keep comfortable, but you couldn’t help yourself, you still lined it with moss and other soft foliage to make it perfect as Amy took pictures of you and your pattern in your new home as she fed you the special food she had bought you as you happily munched down before she took a chance and fed you guppy flakes as well as you let go of your beta food to grab them as you ate those reverently, remembering how you used to eat those with Nona, having missed the colorful and flavorful flakes more than you had thought you would.

After a couple days and you seemed to settle in quite nicely, not hiding in the cave at all, still preferring to sleep in it though, actually spending your days exploring every inch of the tank and discovering all the fun things about it and enjoying all the enrichment it had been filled with and laying in the soft moss and taking naps, braiding your own hair so it wouldn't tangle, making your new space wholly yours as you rearranged it a little to suit your liking and improving the flow of water and functionality before Amy returned to the store and asked to speak with everyone involved with you and your story before she got a hold of Channel.

“So you’re the one who found Chenera in the odds and ends tank?” Amy asked her.

“Yup, it was quite something…” Channel explained before she repeated the story and remembered the key part, how there was a guppy male that you kept holding onto and kept trying to hide and protect and how once you got into the net, you had camouflaged yourself to his pattern but how you kept that pattern once you were taken out of that tank.

“Can you show me where the male guppy male micro is? Did you sell him already?” Amy asked.

“No we haven’t, he won’t pair up and he hides in caves he makes under the hides themselves, and he keeps lining bits of foliage in them, he’s actually right over here.” Channel said as she led the way over to where his tank was before she got the flashlight on her phone and shined the light into the little cave as he tried to hide from the light but Amy recognized his tail pattern as the same pattern on you.

“He’s actually on sale as a pet only because he refuses to pair up and mate with anything and forcing micros to mate can send them into a depression and they can die prematurely.” Channel explained.

“I’ll take him. I already have the perfect set up for him.” Amy insisted as she showed Channel the tank before you had moved into it as Channel had the hardest time catching Nona and putting him in a bag for Amy.

Amy bought “baby bits” and put them in the bag with Nona who starred reproachfully at the baby food. He had been bought and was going to be forced to mate with a guppy and produce hatchlings despite his best efforts. He was hoping he would have avoided this but it seemed that there was no way for him to keep avoiding it now as Amy happily bought him and brought him home and put his bag into the tank.

When you heard the lid open you came out of your cave from putting new foliage in it but stopped and hid away again when you saw a bag with another micro in the bag as once again, your fear and anxiety that your new owner had bought you a mate and was going to expect you to mate with whatever she bought as you tied your hair up and armed yourself. You’d rather die a virgin than be forced to mate with any other.

Meanwhile Nona stared out into the empty tank in relief that there were no other guppy micro women already at the bag, ready to pounce on him the moment he would be let loose, he’d rather die a bachelor than be forced to mate with another and once the water had been acclimated Amy let Nona go and sat in front of the tank with baited breath as Nona hesitantly began exploring before she saw him call out.

You stiffened in your cave at the sound of a male’s voice as you got a whiff of the water that he had come from that had been in his tank, it smelled foreign but you could smell a male in the water as once again, your body reminded that you had new eggs that were now moments away from being mature and ready to be fertilized as you fought with your instincts once again.

His voice was deeper and much more mature than most others you had heard before as you stayed in your cave, ready to attack if he came near you.

Nona could smell a female in the water though, but it wasn’t quite like anything he had smelled before, it smelled good actually as his own body reacted to it, as his body’s instincts were screaming at him that it was time to find this female and fertilize her eggs that were already at the proper stage to be fertilized. But even though he could smell this female, there was no sign of her as Nona carefully and hesitantly inspected the tank, looking for her and calling out to see if anyone else was there before he followed his nose and found the little cave under the geode hide and slowly approached the mouth of the cave but once he was about to climb in to see if it was occupided, he saw you and froze as you did the same, letting the two pieces of gravel fall from your hands as you pulled yourself towards him and stared in disbelief at a very grown up Nona as he stared at you in the same way, in awed wonder, you had grown and matured and while he could still recognize you, you were even more beautiful now all grown up and mature.

“Chenera?��� He breathed.

“Nona?” You asked, almost afraid to believe your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me, Nona, wow you’ve...oof.” Nona began before you quickly left the cave and tackled him to the floor rolling with him in the soft sand and holding him and kissing him all over his face as he did the same as you were both laughing and crying at being reunited as Amy recorded it and cheered before you and Nona disappeared into the little cave under the geode to continue with your reunion.

“I thought I would never see you again.” You cried happily as you hugged him tight, his now adult size and pattern still of some resemblance of his sub adult pattern that you had copied onto yourself but he had gotten better with age.

“Me either.” He confessed as he happily kissed you all over and held you just as tightly, his heart feeling like it was going to burst with happiness as he recognized his own subadult pattern on you, that you had kept for all this time. He felt that you would have changed like all the others he had seen in their little dishes as other buyers had bought them in pairs along with their clutches of eggs in other geodes and carried them throughout the store, their gold heads and gorgeous colors and impressive sizes still eye catching but his heart hurt too much to see if any of them had been you.

Finally, after what felt like eons of time, you were back together and in a similar place where you had first met, in a cave, under a hide, but this time, under a wonderful geode of your own. And while you were still a little bigger than him, but still smaller than the rest of your family, he was used to the size difference of the females being bigger than the males and while you had gotten used to seeing males with fins twice as big as yours, somehow, Nona’s fins were just to your liking because of who they were attached to.

“Please, I have eggs already, I can feel them and I don’t want to keep reabsorbing them, fertilize them, please.” You pleaded between heated kisses and that was all the permission Nona needed before his cock speared your entrance and he began to make love to you in your little cave curling around you and holding you and caressing you and rutting you so vigorously into the sand underneath you as you found your sexual release and Nona did as you asked and fertilized every available egg in your egg sack, your abdomen getting even larger from the fullness of them before you led him to the geode and together you placed each one, carefully into its socket surrounded by facets of amethyst.

“So this is how beta micro’s lay their eggs, in geodes.” Nona noted as he helped catch each one and put it into its place, already seeing signs that they were fertilized and that the fertilization had taken successfully. Never been brave enough to even dream that this was possible.

“Yes.” You giggled as you did the same. Since it was your first, official clutch. It was rather small, but oh so precious as Amy was once again, outside the tank with her phone, recording it.

“Well, fingers crossed, and they can hatch.” She smiled happily, happy to see such a star crossed lover’s pair be reunited and mate and already get to laying clutches in just a matter of moments.

Over the next several weeks, Nona and yourself took turns waving fresh oxygenated water over the eggs, watching as the little micro-merbabies grow and develop. Feeding each other and even when you had no other eggs to lay, continuing to mate for the fun of it as well as to bond even closer all over your new home as you eagerly awaited for the clutch to hatch.

Then one day, just as the shells of the eggs grew super thin and soft- the babies began to squirm and hatch into your waiting hands as well as Nona’s as you instinctively gave them their first milk and brought them up to the surface so they could get a gulp of air for their swim bladders before touching your head to theirs, the gold transferring to their heads and hair as well as you could already see that the middle of their tails had the same guppy pattern that their father had but otherwise were the perfect mix of you and him as you named each and every one as you helped them eat their first meal, “the baby bits” and after they ate one baby bit, they caught another before Amy put in some baby guppy flakes for them as they all caught the flakes with their other hand and began to congregate in one of the many super soft sand pits, each one with a baby bit in one hand and a flake in the other, taking a bite out of both as you and Nona continued to repeat the process until all of the eggs hatched successfully as the shells dissintergrated in the water completely, before you happily gathered your little family in the pit and began your new lives as parents, and living long, happy lives together. Raising a new breed of micros- betta-guppy micros.

#Mermay #Mermay 2021 #Again #sorry this is so late #But better late than never #slight lemon #little bit of mermaid smut #tasteful amount #Mermaids #Micro mermaids #Micro-mermaids #exo #exophillia #thanks for reading!

[beels-burger-babe]

I Love Him - Chapter Three (DRAFT)

***I still haven't gotten around to writing anything because I've been crazy distracted today, but here is chapter three my book that I am attempting to write. Hope you like it, and sorry for the lack of content. So if you will, allow me to tell you more about my gay son Arthur and his adventures in 1958 London.***

Chapter One, Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Geneviève Blanchard was a fascinating woman. She was a talented seamstress and businesswoman who had attracted Arthur’s father to her establishment, Coutures et Fils/ Seams and Threads when Arthur was just a child. She was a spirited woman whose loud antics and thick French accent would intimidate anyone at first, but her soul was as warm as her coloured skin, and soon enough she’d wormed her way into the cold hearts of the Howell family.

Just standing in front of the lavender boutique now, Arthur could feel a familiar warmth resonate in him. This boutique had become more than just a store to him; much like Gen had become more than just a seamstress. It was a second home, and the seamstress inside of it had become his second family.

Arthur entered the shop with no hesitation. “Geneviève?”

He heard a sharp yelp come from a curtained room behind the front counter, followed by a string of rapid french. “Pardon! J'ai été pris par surprise!” There was some shuffling of fabric he heard shouted back. “You know better than to come in shouting for me, Arthur! You will wait your turn.” and then some more muffled apologies, presumably to her client.

Arthur chuckled and looked at the suits and dresses that Gen had on display. He always admired the passion and craftsmanship she put in every piece.

Somedays, when she’d work on a project as they conversed, he couldn’t help but wish that he could pursue work that was as fulfilling and personal as tailoring was to Geneviève.

He was torn from his thoughts as Gen, with her dark greying hair perfectly coiffed as always, entered the room with a soft, redhead woman behind her. She placed a dark purple bag onto the counter and worked the cash register. “That will be £3.00, mademoiselle.” The woman quickly fetched the money and paid before gathering her things. As she left the store, she eyed Arthur standing near the suit display and huffed before leaving.

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he turned towards Geneviève and was met by a cold glare. He awkwardly smiled at her and waved a hand. “Hi Geneviève.”

The woman sighed and made her way over to him. “Arthur, you know you are always welcome here, but you are also aware that I run a business. You cannot just...just…” She looked down at her hands frustratingly as she tried to think of the word. “Comment dit-on éclater?”

“Burst?” Arthur provided, smiling slightly.

“Oui! Burst! You cannot just burst into here calling for me. This is a high-class establishment.” She trailed off of her rant as she noticed something on Arthur’s shirt. She huffed and brushed the lingering muffin crumbs off of his chest. “And to do so looking like that! What is this?” She asked, holding up a particularly large crumb for Arthur to see. “I thought you did not eat desserts? You refused mon pain d’épices the last time you visited because you said it was not healthy.” Geneviève narrowed her eyes at him as she took in his face, and her expression softened, “Tu t’en sors, mon chou?”

Arthur groaned, opened a door to his right and entered with the seamstress following close behind. Arthur took a seat on one of the purple velvet consultation couches while Geneviève made tea. “I’m fine, Gen. It’s grocery day, after all, so what do I have to complain about?”

She glanced up at him suspiciously. “Then why are you eating desserts and coming to me?”

He flashed her a charming smile and leaned forward, “Can’t I visit my favourite woman in all of London, without a reason?”

She placed a teacup on the coffee table in front of him and sat down beside him. “Always, but this visit is not without reason. We’ve already juggled your secret. I’m sure that whatever this is will be much easier.”

That much was true. Geneviève was the only person who knew Arthur was gay. It was 1953, and Arthur had been eighteen when he told her; he had picked up a paper in her consultation room only to see the headline declaring Sir John Nott-Bower’s mission to weed out the homosexual population of Britain and just started shaking. Gen had asked him if he was alright, and it all came slipping out. After ten years of keeping that secret, he was bound to break down eventually. The seamstress was incredibly supportive. She had closed the shop for the day and let Arthur talk honestly about everything he was feeling for one of the first times in his life. Committing homosexual acts had been decriminalized in France since 1791. It still wasn’t very socially accepted, but neither, Gen had explained, were independent black women such as herself.

Five years had passed since then, and Gen was still his biggest and only ally.

Arthur sighed and took a sip of the tea. “I just wanted to buy some bread.”

Geneviève tilted her head at him as she took a drink of her own tea. “Oh, and you weren’t able to get some? You get your bread from Wilson’s bakery, correct? I heard they had to close for a while, since Mrs. Wilson finally gave birth to her baby.”

Barely paying the words any mind Arthur nodded along. “Right. Which meant I had to find a new bakery. Which I did. So there’s no problem.” He heatedly took a larger gulp of his tea only to hiss at the temperature of it and immediately set the teacup down.

The seamstress analyzed him with a questioning glance. “I do not understand. You are still upset. Was the bread not good?”

“No!” Arthur quickly shouted, sitting up and turning directly to the seamstress. She gave him an unimpressed look, causing the man to fluster at his own actions. “I mean, yes. I-I don’t know, I haven’t tried it yet. But the muffin-”

“So you did eat a dessert!” Geneviève proclaimed in an accusing, but amused, tone.

Arthur whined in frustration, his hands now being thrown in every direction as he tried to express himself. “Yes! But only because that bloody baker wouldn’t stop smiling at me and talking about food like it was his best mate. I couldn’t say no!”

As the outburst ended, the two went quiet for several beats as Gen slowly began to grin at Arthur over the rim of her teacup. “I imagine he had curly hair then? You seem to like the ones with curls.”

The man fixed the older woman with a glare as she began to cackle. Arthur shook his head, muttering to himself about crazy women while he sulked. Geneviève calmed down eventually and placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I am teasing, mon chèr. I guess I do not fully understand the problem. So you looked a little silly in front of a cute boy? It is not as if you have to see him again, right?”

Arthur huffed and picked up his tea for another sip. “Or so you’d think. That bakery, Gen. It’s like it’s untouched by all the gloom and change of England. Everyone in there was so relaxed and the food was just...brilliant.” He relaxed at just the memory of the place. “There isn’t another place like Blooming Confections in the world. Cute cashier or not, I know I’ll be returning.”

Geneviève smiled tenderly at him. “I’ve never heard of it. Perhaps you can take me some time, or just bring me some macaroons if they have any. I can’t make them, and I haven’t had any good ones since I’ve left France.” She sighed and stood up as she wiped her hands on her work apron. “But in the meantime, if you really do want to go back, at least this time you’ll know that he is there and won’t be as surprised.”

Arthur stood and pulled Geneviève in for a small hug. “If they don’t have macaroons, I’ll pay extra for them to make a custom batch. You’re the best, Gen.”

The seamstress chuckled and patted his back and she pulled away. “Yes, I know. And you are a helpless fool, but at least you are a handsome one.” She reached forward to wiggle his nose teasingly as she spoke, before pulling back and clapping. “Well. I have dresses to make, and you should head out.” She glanced at the clock and frowned. “It’s just about twelve now. Don’t want to keep your father waiting for too long.”

Arthur followed her eyes to the clock and tensed. “No, I suppose not.”

#I Love Him #my novel #my writing #original writing #romance #gay love #writing #draft #b talks #🐝 talks #the hive

[tyunniverse]

FRIENDS FOR A DAY (2)

pair: yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2654

parts: 1 | 2

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It had been a long time since Yeonjun felt like this. Sometimes life in general had become too much to bear and the things that used to make him happy weren't working for him anymore. Times spent alone slowly became more frequent for him than times he'd spent with his friends.

He'd skipped the first day, not wanting to go back to that routine life just yet. And towards the start of the day, he would never have imagined meeting you and getting to spend the day doing things that strayed far from any of the schedules he'd previously planned. A breath of fresh air was what he liked to call it, and he had you to thank for that.

Unlike him, everything was new to you; a new city, a new school, new people, and a whole new life ahead. Yeonjun felt a little envious after realizing it when you'd talked more about yourselves during lunch, but after seeing how you seemed to enjoy every single second of your little sight seeing endeavor, he thought that maybe he could also be a part of something new in your life.

Best friends.

You had agreed to be his best friend from today onwards; the pendant around your neck serving as proof. Yeonjun finds his hand wandering over to his pocket, holding on to his old necklace.

Half of a star. He'd bought it a few years back. The necklace had a similar purpose with the one he was wearing now— meant to be worn separately by two different people. In his case, he had bought it as a whole and had decided to keep one half of it still in its case, stashed inside his closet. His reasons for purchasing it never really felt clear even to him but he also wouldn't call it an impulsive decision. Yeonjun liked to think that he'd be able to find a use for it in the future.

"Yeonjun." You call for his attention, pointing at the posters plastered on a random shop's wall. "It says that the annual carnival will be opening tonight. Wanna go?"

Yeonjun grins. Opportunities somehow kept showing up right in front of his doorstep. "Yeah, only if you want to though. Afterall, I'm only the tour guide for today."

"Shut up." You hold back a smile. "Have you been there before?"

Yeonjun repeats the question in his mind. As someone one would consider pretty popular, you'd expect him to be no stranger in hanging out at fun places like an annual carnival, but that's just it. Yeonjun had never visited that Carnival once ever since it opened. His friends had asked him to tag along but something about it just never seemed to make him want to.

"No." Yeonjun answers, scratching the back of his head. "If we end up going then this would be my first time too." The first time he'd actually wanted to go.

"I guess we're going then." You grin and Yeonjun finds himself smiling back. "It says here that the Carnival's just around the corner so it'd probably be okay if we just walked there."

"Yeah."

The two of you make your way to the Carnival. You still had a good amount of time left before it opened so a few quick stops at some stalls along the way didn't do any harm.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

In all honesty, Yeonjun didn't even know when and how he'd ended up holding your hand, laughing his heart off by the time you arrived at the entrance but it all just happened somehow. Was it the when your ice cream cone almost landed straight on his shoe earlier? Or when his hand nearly hit you square in the face when he noticed a bug flying towards you? It could've even been when a group of old ladies started hitting on him at the handbag boutique and all you did was stand there shaking, wanting to laugh your ass off.

No matter what the reason was, he liked this. Somehow, it just felt right.

The two of you pay for the tickets before heading inside. The place was larger than any of you had ever expected, cleaner too. People of all ages were enjoying their carnival experience to the fullest. Children were running around with their guardians following closely behind, couples and groups of friends chatting along and taking pictures— Yeonjun could swear he saw two old men arguing over who gets to take a picture with the mascot first.

"So, which ride do you wanna go on first?" You ask, turning to him.

"Well, how about that one." Yeonjun points at the viking and you feel yourself getting more and more excited.

"NICE—" Before Yeonjun knew it, you were dragging him around to every single ride at the carnival.

You liked to keep count of everytime Yeonjun freaked out while you went on the rides, and Yeonjun liked to do the same. Despite the thrill of being at a carnival keeping you hyped up, there were a few times when you had overestimated your tolerance with being thrown around. Yeonjun nearly puked twice: once at the twister, and a second time on the rollercoaster. Even you were almost a victim by the rollercoaster's loops.

Yeonjun had claimed he was an expert at navigating haunted house attractions, stating, "I've been watching horror movies all my life. Nothing scares me at this point, tbh." True enough, nothing scared Yeonjun except every single ominous decoration and jump scares the haunted house threw at him. You weren't too fond of horror yourself, but you ended up trying to be the brave one after Yeonjun basically clung to you half of the time. It didn't help whenever you freaked out since you ended up losing Yeonjun after he not so subtly abandons you at the slightest suspicious sound. It was a miracle you made it out in one piece.

"Yeah, so, uh, sorry about that." Yeonjun laughs it off the moment you two got out.

"Sure but you should know that I'm never gonna let you live it down." You tell him, smiling widely as you hold up the photos you received from one of the staff. "I got evidence."

Yeonjun snatches the photos from your hands. "Bold of you to assume these'll affect me— oh." It definitely did.

You watch as he slips the photos inside his jacket as if it wasn't obvious enough that he was trying to hide it from you. "Nice try but," You take out another batch of photos and wave it around. "Boom. Two copies."

"Wow, okay."

The two of you ended up laughing at each other before you suggest in trying out the stalls. They say time flies by fast when you're having fun and they couldn't be more right. There had been an unspoken competition between you and Yeonjun of who can win the most prizes and let's just say you weren't about to let yourself lose. By the time you got tired, you had a total of three plushies and a bunch of candy bars stuffed in your pockets and well, Yeonjun had the exact amount of prizes you had.

"Fine. It's a draw for now but only because I'm tired." Yeonjun holds the plushies tighter. "We should really get a bag for this. I wonder if we can get a huge plastic bag somewhere."

"Nah, we can just put em in here." You take off your back pack, opening it wide. "I'm sure it can fit all six of them. They're small enough." You were lucky that they did, finally leaving your hands free.

"Wait." Yeonjun pauses after putting the last of his plushies inside. "How can I be sure you won't just take my plushies for yourself after we leave? I'm pretty easy to distract so—"

"If you forget to get them back then I'll just hand them to you tomorrow at school. You go to HSU too, right?" You tell him.

"Yeah, but how will you contact me?"

"Obviously, we exchange numbers."

Yeonjun blinks. Of course that'd be the simplest solution but still. He'd been talking about staying as friends even after all this but the thought of exchanging numbers hadn't really crossed his mind. He takes out his phone and the two of you quickly added each other as contacts, somehow feeling a bit closer after the exchange.

"While we're at it—" Yeonjun pulls you in closer as he bends down. Only now that you've felt Yeonjun's warmth close to you have you noticed how cold it actually was outside . It takes you a few seconds to register that he wants to take a few selfies.

You bust out a smile and tried to go along with whatever weird faces and poses he did. "Send them to me later." You say after examining the photos. There's one where Yeonjun mimicked a kissing motion near your cheek, making you smile. Who would've expected you two were total strangers up until a few hours ago.

"Got room for one last ride?" Yeonjun asks as you return his phone.

"Yeah, sure. Which one?"

"Don't ask as if you don't know. I'm pretty sure you left this one out on purpose."

Perhaps unconsciously, you did. In every single movie that involved the two characters going to a carnival, for some reason, they always left the Ferris Wheel for last. It's not like you wanted something grand to happen when you ride it, but more like you just wanted to get a good view of the entire carnival before leaving. It seemed like the perfect final attraction.

Yeonjun notices how you've gone quiet and decided to hold your hand, pulling you along. "Let's go before the place closes."

"Okay." You look up at him, nodding.

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The Ferris Wheel ride wasn't all you had expected it to be. It looked pretty slow in the movies but right now? You were about to puke.

"Yeonjun, wait." You hold on to Yeonjun who was sitting opposite to you.

The Ferris Wheel was going too fast to your liking and you started feeling dizzy. Getting a good view of the carnival seemed impossible at this point and looking at your partner made you even more miserable.

Yeonjun was having the time of his life. He loved the feeling in his stomach whenever the ride went down, and the fact that you were lowkey suffering right in front of him made him laugh even harder.

The speed went on for a few more rounds until it finally slows down. Your heart and probably everything else stilled once the ride came to a complete stop just as your car reached the top. "Thank God. I felt like I was going to die."

"Well, you're safe for now." Yeonjun grins, leaning back in his heat. "You wanted to enjoy the view, right? We'll be stuck here for probably about a minute or two so enjoy it while it lasts."

"Yeah." You smile back, looking outside the window.

The winds were colder up there, reminding you of how warm it felt when you stood close to Yeonjun earlier. Yeonjun catches you warming yourself up with your hands and chuckles. He takes off his jacket and hands it over to you. "Here, put this on."

"Thanks." You quickly put his jacket on. Usually you'd go for the polite route and turn him down but if you were going to continue this friendship business then you weren't about to suffer in the cold when the dude's practically handing you a solution.

Yeonjun gives you a little smile before you continue to admire the view. Down there, the lights almost looked like a sea of stars. The music around the place didn't really help set the mood but somehow, the mixture of it along with the laughter and delightful screams of the other visitors made it feel right. After everything that happened today, you felt like it was the right decision to end the day with this breathtaking sight.

And Yeonjun couldn't agree more. The lights below reflected in your eyes in a way that made the atmosphere lighter. He could tell you were happy and right now, that seemed to be enough for him.

The Ferris Wheel began moving. Yeonjun snickers as he felt you grab for his hand, worried that the ride might throw you off once more, but it didn't. The way down was slow, allowing you to enjoy the ride in peace. Your pendant started to shine, reflecting the lights. It reminded him of everything that happened, from the moment you two met and agreed on a friendship that would last for only a day, up until now where he held your hand on the Ferris Wheel after deciding to be friends for real this time. The pendant became the sole proof of that friendship and Yeonjun couldn't help but wonder if the ones he bought a few years back would truly be of any use in the future. But what would it symbolize for? Who knows, he might just give you the other half.

Your car comes to a stop and the doors open. The realization that the day has officially come to an end left you feeling disappointed. Yeonjun squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. He gestures for the two of you to get up and you do, finally stepping back on the ground.

Both you and Yeonjun felt that the way back to the entrance was too fast. It really did seem like the two of you wouldn't see each other again despite the fact you went to the same university. The thought felt silly but that's just how the carnival experience gets to you.

"I guess this is it." Yeonjun speaks up first. "You live pretty far from here, right? I can take you home if you want."

"It's okay. My cousin lives nearby and I texted her earlier that I'd be staying over." You tell him, not wanting him to worry. "How about you? Will you be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, definitely." Yeonjun reassures, holding up his hands. "Oh, and by the way. Is it okay if I leave the plushies on your bag for now? I can't exactly carry them on the way back. If it's ok with you."

"Don't worry. You can just take them back tomorrow." You grin and Yeonjun smiles back. "Also, I'm keeping your jacket for now. I'll return it after I clean it up."

"I can work with that." He shouldn't feel this happy but he did. In a way, he was able to find an excuse to meet up with you tomorrow without things getting awkward. Maybe this friendship could work out afterall.

"Thanks for today. Honestly, this was the most fun I've had ever since I got here." You say, taking one last look at him.

I should be the one to thank you. "You know, I have a lot of things I wanna say to you right now but I think I'm gonna wait until I feel like it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I'll text you later." Yeonjun gives you a quick pat on the shoulder before running off to the opposite direction. "See you at school! And don't forget to bring the kids!"

You raise a brow. Did he just refer to the plushies as his kids?

He felt dumb, running away from you. The longer he stayed, the more he had trouble leaving, which was new for him. It's been a while since he actually found someone he'd like to hang out with and he was having trouble controlling his excitement. Soon, you'd be able to visit each other's houses, hang out more freely, talk about your days as if it were nothing, and get to know each other more. Honestly speaking, Yeonjun couldn't wait for that day to come but I guess he'll just have to start with tomorrow.

#txt imagines #txt x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun

[nocturnal-jeon]

𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 ➛ 𝚍𝚊𝚍!𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗

okay when i saw this i had to write this! thanks for being the first request i fulfill after being gone for so long!

@springkoo​

________________________

Grocery shopping was something you always wanted to do alone. Scratch that, it was something you needed to do alone. As Ha-joon grew each day, he would demand more food but also make much larger messes with it. At some points, you knew he wasn’t even hungry; all he wanted to do was make a mess with expensive groceries. 

You assumed that you would require Namjoon’s assistance a lot more when Ha-joon was a lot smaller, but now that he was big enough to stand on his own and crawl insanely fast, you found it hard to keep up with the little human. 

You had gotten better at balancing taking care of Ha-joon and doing your schoolwork for college, but there were times where something had to get sacrificed and you could never let it be Ha-joon. 

To be a good girlfriend, you cooked your husband a lot of food. He would send texts and videos of the boys confiscating the food as Namjoon wasn’t the only one cooped up in the studio or practice room. This sent your heart into shambles. Yes, you wanted Namjoon to eat, but seeing the other boys so hungry made you realize no one is cooking food for them. 

Cup noodle wasn’t cutting it. 

You would set Ha-joon to nap and rush to the kitchen, making large batches of food and putting them in seven containers. You would even write them little notes of encouragement. You would drop them off once Ha-joon was awake. It was always a heartwarming sight to see the boys surround Ha-joon and play with him. Sometimes it would just be Namjoon, or it would only be Yoongi and Taehyung. Whoever wasn’t busy. 

Tired and exhausted at the end of the night, you would finally go downstairs to find food for yourself, only to find out you had run out of food and had to eat ramen. 

You figured that since Namjoon’s day off was the next day, you could go grocery shopping while he watched Ha-joon, but Namjoon insisted on coming to pick out snacks. So, as you pushed the cart with a bubbly and wide-eyed Ha-joon, you eyed your list and went down each aisle. Namjoon followed behind but grew a bit tired with going down any aisle that wasn’t the snack aisle. 

“Hey, I’m just gonna go over to the snack aisle and get my stuff then come back,” Namjoon said to you as you were deep in thought. You looked up at him and nodded as you placed a few boxes of pasta into the cart. 

Just as Namjoon turned to go, Ha-joon began whining and threw his pacifier down in an angry fit at being left behind. You looked down at Ha-joon with a gentle frown as you bent down to pick up the pacifier and drop it into your purse to be cleaned later. 

“Do you wanna adventure with daddy?” Namjoon said in a slightly higher pitched voice as he bent his knees and gazed at his son. Ha-joon nodded, face satisfied, as he reached out to his dad. Namjoon lifted the little boy out of the seat and sat him on his shoulders. You watched the two and chuckled. 

“Don’t cause any trouble,” you warned, looking mainly at Namjoon, who always seemed to lose his maturity when left alone with his son. 

“We’ll try,” Namjoon said with a grin as he turned and left the aisle, Ha-joon looking around. Shaking your head, you continued down the aisle, crossing off each item after placing it into your cart.  Meanwhile, Namjoon explored more than the snack aisle and brought his son to the toy aisle, asking him to pick out toys as if Ha-joon didn’t have enough. The baby would point to things and look back at Namjoon expectantly. Namjoon’s large hands held onto the baby’s chunky little legs, so he couldn’t really grab the toys. 

He would just have to wait and try to convince you. 

You left one aisle and began moving towards the sauces at the back of the store when you saw workers with mops and paper towels moving down the aisle you were about to go down. You followed after, curious, but that curiosity was gone as your mouth dropped. There Namjoon stood, looking guilty while Ha-joon looked unfazed. 

A large glass jar of tomato sauce, usually at the top of the row so children couldn’t get to it, had failed and shattered, spilling the sauce all over the tiled floor. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Namjoon kept repeating to the workers as he tried to grab some paper towels and help them while trying to hold onto Ha-joon’s legs. 

“it’s fine, sir, really. Accidents happen,” the employees assured with gentle smiles as they cleaned the mess. Namjoon looked up and saw you standing at the end of the aisle with your hands on your hips as you stared your boyfriend down. He approached you slowly, swallowing hard. 

“Ha-joon kept grabbing stuff and he just pushed it off the top,” Namjoon said as he took Ha-joon down from his neck and held him away from his chest. Both Namjoon and your son had tomato sauce all over them as it had splashed up when it hit the floor. You stared at your boys for a few seconds, still trying to take things in. 

You grabbed Ha-joon and sat him back in the cart. The toddler was wiping his stubby fingers all over his arms and sticking them in his mouth to taste the sauce. At least he was having a good time. 

“Namjoon, you really passed the clumsy gene onto our son. It’s like you want me to cry,” you slightly joked, looking your boyfriend up and down as tomato sauce stained his jeans and covered his bare arms as small dollops of sauce littered his face. He stared at you for a moment before giggling softly. 

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” he said, looking down at his legs. You couldn’t help but smirk. Reaching your hand out, you wiped sauce from his cheek and stuck your index finger into your mouth. “At least the sauce tastes good,” you said. 

“Now go grab a jar so we can pay for it and I don’t have to feel any worse.” 

Namjoon nodded and went to grab a jar, placing it in the cart. Namjoon guiltily walked behind you as you finished up your grocery shopping, trying your best to ignore the fact that everyone you passed stared at your family like you were a bunch of circus clowns. 

You had gotten everything on your list and began to move towards the registers when Namjoon cleared his throat.

“This might be a bad time to mention this but Ha-joon really wants this one truck set in the toy aisle.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked between Ha-joon and your boyfriend. 

You opened your mouth to say something but stopped and closed it again. 

“You-” you stuttered, sighing at Namjoon. 

“You two are going to be the death of me,” you whined, pushing the cart toward the toy aisle even though you didn’t feel like rewarding either of your boys. But as you pushed, Ha-joon smiled at you as if he didn’t just cause so much trouble. 

“Which one?” you asked as you looked at Namjoon, hands on your hips. He moved over to the set that Ha-joon wanted and put it in the cart as Ha-joon practically tried to break his back so he could turn to look at it as excited sounds left his lips. 

“Okay, now we’re done,” you said as you turned the cart around and headed to the cash register. 

“Wait, we didn’t get my snacks yet,” Namjoon said. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned to stare at Namjoon. He stared back at you, knowing you were beyond done with your boys. 

Pushing the cart silently, you went over to the snack aisle and watched with your hands on your hips as Namjoon put various snacks in the cart. 

“You make me feel like I did something wrong when you stand like that,” he commented as he looked up at you. You scoffed. “Really, tomato man?” you said. “You feel like you did something wrong?”

He swallowed hard. 

“I’m sorry,” he whined, moving over to you and linking his large hand with yours. You wanted to stay mad for as long as possible because you didn’t want to hurt your pride, but as Ha-joon sat in the cart with tomato sauce all over him and Namjoon stood with tomato sauce in his blonde hair, you broke into laughter, surprising the both of them. 

Ha-joon laughed when anyone laughed, so his little voice merged with yours as you put your hands on your knees and just laughed, straight from the belly. 

“What am I going to do with you guys?” you said with a smile as you stood back up, looking at Namjoon. He smirked. 

“Okay, now, really, let’s go. The Kims have caused enough mayhem in this store,” you said as you pushed the cart to the register, a chuckling Namjoon following after you. 

You paid for the groceries and held Ha-joon as Namjoon carried the bags to the car. “Don’t touch anything when we get home. You both are getting in the bath,” you ordered as your face scrunched up in disgust as Ha-joon’s tomato covered fingers touched all over your face as you put him in his car seat. 

Once you got home, you told Namjoon to take Ha-joon inside and start a bath immediately while you brought the groceries in and put them away. Once you got upstairs to the bathroom, your mood couldn’t help but lighten when you saw Namjoon playing with his son in the tub. 

“Making music is your thing. Grocery shopping is mine. Let’s keep it that way,” you said with a chuckle as you bent down to kiss Namjoon’s cheek. “Deal,” he said as he looked at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes. 

#bts #bts reactions #bts request #bts masterlist #bts drabble #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts fan fiction #bts fanfic #bts kim namjoon #bts namjoon fanfic #bts army

[delaneytveit]

Satellites Part 15

Wow so I ended up getting some really good reviews on the last one! Thanks for the comments guys! Its great to see that ya'll are enjoying this story as much as I am

Which reminds me, read a really good fic, or just any fic? I have a challenge for you, go back and write a comment about something you liked in the fic, it can be anything, the title, the pace, the language, ANYTHING! Writers thrive off of comments, and your kind words just might make someone's day (it definetly made mine!) 

Spread positivity and genuine enjoyment! because at the end of the day, we're all people with crazy lives who just want to be able to come back to our stories and lose ourself in worlds galaxies awayAlright, now i'm reigning in the preacher moment and am simply here to say, follow me on twitter!

 Twitter - sfw -> @/spacemom_laney | nsfw -> @/15_agentwash

ko-fi - ko-fi.com/delaneym_15 

(Part 14) (Masterpost) (Part 16) 

“Maybe a cake, Lance likes red velvet cake. Though it's basically just chocolate with food colouring. Or those pseudo-chocolate chip cookies, he can wolf down an entire batch of them. Or maybe…” Hunk had momentarily turned around to face Pidge, the dish he was currently scrubbing still in hand. “Pidge?” 

“Hmm, what?” Pidge looked up from her computer, completely oblivious.

After the meeting on the bridge, tensions had been high in the castle. Knowing as much as they knew about Project Leo had put them all on edge. It had been a week since then and the unease still hadn’t settled. So of course, Hunk in all his anxiety had decided he would cook something to cheer up the team, or at least Lance. He had it the worst, clearly the information wasn’t as shocking to him, but the confirmation of it somehow made it all real for him.

He had been closely monitored by Coran. Though it was a larger question of it was helping at all. He never really admitted it, they’d have to be blind to not notice the far off stares, the decrease in appetite, and the heavy bags under his eyes.

Lance wasn’t doing too well, and though Hunk knew there wasn’t much he could do for his best friend, he could at least cheer him up even if it was for just an instant.

Hence the sweets. Hunk had been in the kitchen attempting to decide what to make, and considering he always thought better without still hands, had taken to cleaning the entire kitchen from top to bottom. Pidge had walked in about an hour into his cleaning frenzy, perched upon the island counter and opened her computer.

Having another person in the room, Hunk had begun talking out loud, wondering what he could make out of the space ingredients he had.

Of course, she wasn’t paying attention at all.

“You know, you could at least pretend to be listening.”

“Look, I don’t see you looking through hundreds of data files!” she retorted.

Hunk turned back to the sink and continued scrubbing the plate. He shook his head. “You know, Shiro said to stop. We already know enough.”

“Do you always do what dad says?” Pidge joked.

“Pidge, seriously. What good is it going to do?” Hunk hand turned around fully, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What do you mean, what good? Hunk, I’m on the verge of something!”

“What about Lance? Does he know you’re doing this?”

“I’m doing it for him! The more we know about the experiments, the better. We can help him!”

“Help who?” the man in question asked as he walked into the kitchen. Both Pidge and Hunk jumped at the sudden sound.

“O-oh, hey Lance!” the Yellow paladin greeted, as Lance made his way to the fridge. They watched him closely as he opened it, grabbing a juice pouch from a shelf.

He closed the fridge and leaned against it, sticking his straw into the pouch.

“So, what are you guys arguing about this time?” he asked, taking a sip of his juice pouch.

Hunk and Pidge looked at each other in question, a silent argument unveiling before the Blue paladin, until finally Pidge sighed in defeat.

“Hunk is mad because I think I found something while going through the data files again.”

They didn’t miss the uneasiness that washed over Lance’s body. Though he was still leaning against the fridge, the tenseness in his now more distinct muscles was apparent.

“Didn’t Shiro tell you to stop?” Pidge lowered her head at that.

“He did. But when does Pidge ever listen?” Hunk admitted.

A small smile played on Lance’s face, though it was gone in a moment. “So, find anything useful?”

Pidge perked up at the question. Grabbing her discarded laptop, she opened it up and pulled up the file she was looking at previously.

“Of course I did!”

+

“Wait, so there’s another experiment?” Keith was pissed. Besides the fact that one of his teammates go directly against orders, but apparently whatever was happening to Lance wasn’t over.

Pidge nodded, “Yeah, well not an experiment exactly. It's called Phase Two.”

“Phase Two?” Keith repeated.

“Lance was the first of four successful tests. I guess that was enough for them to move on to Phase Two. Which is basically to see if they would be able to recreate the serum without the manufacturing part.”

“I’m confused, what do you mean without the manufacturing part?” Lance asked. He had never heard of Phase two, though then again he hadn’t really stuck around to see it. All of this was absolutely new territory for him.

“That, I couldn’t get. It was difficult to translate, and the parts that I could read were vague. What I did get is that the point of Phase Two was to see if the serum would stay in your body for a long period of time.”

“Well we know that worked.” Keith stated quietly.

“Yes, but why would they need to discover a way to recreate the serum without actively formulating it?” Allura was beyond confused. Why would someone go to such lengths to create something, only to search for alternatives?

None of it made any sense.

“Pidge, were you able to find the ingredients of the serum?” Lance asked.

Pidge shook her head. She had been searching for days and couldn’t find a thing. Not only that but every blood test Coran had taken had yielded little to no results. They had no idea what the serum was, nor any of its long term effects.

“The lengths that they’ve gone to hide that, it's possible that they only were able to make a few of them. That or the ingredients are too costly to keep making them from scratch.” Lance reasoned.

“So what would they use then?” Keith asked, voicing everyone’s question.

In all honesty, Lance didn’t know either. What could they use? He knew they needed him, more importantly they needed him alive. So what could they use?

It was almost like a lightbulb had flashed above his head at the realization.

“Stem cells!”

+

Lance’s mention of the testing facility had sparked a realization in Allura. If there were more ships, then the likelihood of there being more subjects was incredibly high. There could be others, stolen persons just like Lance, being experimented on, tortured.

How many had families?

How many were taken from their homes?

How many were like Lance?

The longer she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that they had to do something. They were Voltron after all. The defenders of the universe. If for even a second they suspected that someone may be in danger of the Galra, it was their duty to protect them. They may not have been able to rescue Lance, but maybe they would be able to save those still being held in the facility.

So away she went, to the other side of the castle where the Paladin’s chambers were. She walked past the doors until she came to the one she needed.

She stopped in front of it, and knocked softly. It was only a few seconds before the door opened, and she was greeted by the one person who she knew would help her.

“Allura?”

Bright blue eyes met hers. Eyes that even heavy with sleep, held a look of determination, a desire to protect.

“I have a proposition for you.” her voice was soft so as not to wake the others, though she knew he could hear her as he now seemed more awake. “May I come in?”

Lance nodded, turning on the light and moving aside so that she could enter the room.

Allura had never been inside one of the Paladin’s rooms previously. Though she did have to admit that it was a lot cleaner than she thought it would be. Lance had somehow managed to combine clutter with organization. There were books and pens on his desk, his bed piled high with pillows and blankets. Pictures adorned the walls and a set of blue lights on a string were taped to the shelf above his bed.

It looked...homey. Comfortable.

“So, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Lance asked, taking a seat on his bed. He gestured for Allura to take a seat at the chair in front of his desk. She did so, crossing her legs and bringing her posture up to a more poised position.

“I’ve been speaking with Coran, and though it seems you still have quite a ways to go in terms of mental stability, I believe that keeping you from missions would do more harm than good in the long run.”

“So, you woke me up at…” Lance looked over to the clock next to his bed, “3 in the morning to reinstate my mission privileges?”

“Well, yes and no. I’m only doing this for one mission.”

“One?”

“Yes, one I’m sure you’d be very adamant about going on, even if I were to refuse you.” Allura leaned forward. “A rescue mission, at the testing facility you were held at.”

“Wait, you found it?”

Allura nodded. She had been searching for it since the issue was brought up.

“Okay, rescue mission. When do we leave?”

“I’ll make the announcement tomorrow. After I talk it over with Shiro, we can come up with a sound plan of attack. Lance, are you sure you will be okay?”

Lance took a second to think about it. He knew what she was doing, giving him an out. He was thankful for it, but this was something he had to do.

He was one of the lucky ones, he had got out. But there were so many of them that didn’t. He owed it to them to do everything in his power to free them.

“I’ll be fine, Allura. I promise. Now, let's go save these guys.”

#vld lance #lance serrano #lance mcclain #langst #i love two blue bois and lance is one of them

[acelikesturtles]

“For The Love of Cake”

Prompt: Bakery AU - Mikey x Gender-Neutral Y/N

Warnings: Profanity

Word Count: 3,885

A/N: Okay so despite what the screenshot looks like, the original prompt came to be from a conversation on discord, but @wacheypena was the one that officially came up with the prompt, @dw-im-just-sad just sent it to me because I consistently have the memory of a goldfish, so credit for the idea totally goes to wachey. @dw-im-just-sad also wrote her own version of this prompt so go check it out on her blog and give her some love!

“Fuck.”

A blast of warm air from the oven hit your face and pushed the stray hairs out of your eyes. Despite how delicious the freshly baked poppy seed muffins smelled, there was no way in hell that these met the signature Paisley's standard. You tucked a loose strand of hair back behind your ear with your free hand as you set the tray down on the steel counter behind the oven. Two other perfectly top-notch batches of muffins from 45 minutes ago sat only a couple inches away, freed from the confines of the muffin tray and sitting pretty on the tabletop cooling rack. You popped one of the new muffins out of the tray and set it on the counter as a half-pout began tugging at the corners of your mouth. All the muffins here were caved in on the top and looked dense and chewy instead of moist and soft like they were supposed to.

You racked your brain, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. You poked the muffin with a toothpick to check the center then sliced it open with a fork to check the inside. Little tendrils of steam escaped from the muffin’s tortured core; a squashed, condensed, pathetic looking center that seemed ashamed of its own existence sitting beside the high and mighty rises that all its cousins had managed to achieve. You figured that in a moment of absent-minded baking you must have put too much baking powder into the batter, thus creating the chewy texture and the catastrophic cave-in on the tops. With a firm frown and a short sigh through the nose in defeat, you picked up the muffin tray and headed towards the back door quietly.

Normally you wouldn’t be so secretive about bad muffins and tossing them in the bin outside, but the manager, Heather, had been cracking down on all the wasted ingredients that went into batches of bread and cupcakes and muffins and cookies that ultimately ended up ruined beyond relief by new-hires. Admittedly these muffins weren’t as bad of a mistake as per the other new-hires’ usual (like leaving whipping cream mixing until it turned into butter), but these sad excuses for poppy seed muffins were still a recognizable mistake that could easily be attributed to you rather than Rosetta, who always managed to forget at least one egg when she made cake batter.

You opened the door to the back alley behind Paisley’s and kicked the rubber doorstep underneath the gap to hold it in place. You balanced the tray in one hand and used the other to lift the lid off the unofficially named “Fuck-Up” can. With a few small taps against the rim of the bin, the muffins tumbled out of the tray and into the trash, only leaving behind the faintest lingering scent as you returned the lid. You wiped the sweat that had gathered on your brow with the back of your hand. Looking up, the sky had turned a shade of pinkened violet that felt reminiscent of the childhood summer sunsets you had enjoyed back home. You checked your watch. Five minutes until the end of your shift. You hauled yourself back inside and began cleaning up your work station with the torn and stained damp rag assigned to your work space.

Your mind felt full with thoughts, heavy even. Five months in New York and aside from securing a relatively nice apartment with only a mildly concerning roach problem and an “only kinda-severely-cramped” bathroom, you weren’t feeling as if you were making much progress like you had maybe anticipated when the opportunity to move had first arisen. You had moved, after all, in the hopes of starting your own café. It would be something small and quiet, a safe space in the heart of the city for people to come and bask in the welcoming atmosphere and enjoy the soft sounds of Lo-Fi playing above their warm cups of coffee and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. You’d donate food to the homeless on Wednesday evenings after closing time, and on Sunday nights the café would host Bingo and Trivia competitions for charity like they did at some of the local bars. The thought of being able to make your dream come true here made you feel immensely grateful to be on the path your heart had been calling you to. Paisley’s was better than being stuck in your hometown selling discount jeans. Right now though, working these grueling hours made you feel even farther away from the finish line than you had thought it would when you started. Rather than a feeling of excited and determined immersion in a career area that would someday be a part of the larger puzzle you longed to complete, Paisley’s felt like a chore that truly nobody enjoyed aside from Heather’s domineering managerial attitude.

You tossed the dirty rag into the laundry bin on the other side of the kitchen and began making your way towards the time clock to punch out for the night. Your aching feet were relieved just knowing that rest was coming soon.

“You headed out for the night?” A coworker asked, bumping into your shoulder while you punched in your employee number.

“Yep,” You stifled a yawn. “Poppy seed muffins at my work station still need to be stored for the catering thing tomorrow, so have somebody do that when you close.”

“Sure thing, on my way to do that right now.” They responded.

You finished clocking out and lazily shuffled back through the kitchen towards the rear door again, now fully caught in a yawn. You opened the door and took two steps outside before waiting to hear the slam and the click of the lock behind you, finalizing the official end of your shift. Now that you were outside though, something felt off. You glanced down at the “Fuck-Up” bin. The lid was ajar instead of firmly placed like it had been when you had messed with it earlier. Perplexed, you picked up the lid and peered inside the can only to find it empty of the muffins you had tossed in there before. Bizarre, but not unheard of. Paisley’s didn’t donate any of their leftover food to homeless shelters and you had heard from your coworkers that the homeless often peruse through the large dumpster behind the bakery for scraps hoping that the trashed food wasn’t as bad as employees thought. You could hardly blame them for trying. One company’s terrible batch of cookies is another man’s saving grace. At least someone was making use of your mistake.

You yawned again, shuffling down the concrete steps towards your neon green motorbike. You knelt down to unlock the chain holding it to the company bike rack, absently humming some commercial jingle that had been stuck in your head for the last day or two. Once the lock was completely freed you stuffed it into your bag, kicked the kickstand back up, and fished your keys out of your pocket to turn the ignition. Just as the motor began to sputter to life, you heard shuffling feet and a faint and stifled cough echo in the alley around you. It was near impossible to not feel spooked or even just a little bothered at the thought that the person from earlier could still be lurking in the alley, even if you had no real proof that they were harmful. You had heard too many horror stories and seen too many documentaries to be foolish. Not taking any chances, you hopped onto your motorbike and immediately hit the gas, taking a sharp turn into the street and not daring to look behind you. You could have just been paranoid of course, squirrels and other animals liked to dig through their trash and make noise in the alley too, but when confronted with the silliness of the concept of hundreds of rats carrying the muffins away you found yourself instead hoping that the person that had fished through their trash had gotten what they needed (and that they wouldn’t still be there by morning).

-----------------------------------------

The next morning as you came up the back steps to the kitchen you noticed a bright yellow post-it note stuck to the lid of the “Fuck-Up” bin that hadn’t been there the night before. At first you hesitated to read the note. There was an anxious pang in your gut that made you feel uneasy about it in a way that you couldn’t put you finger on. You reached your hand forward to open the door to the kitchen, but found your hand only hovering over the knob with no real intent of going in yet. You needed the closure that would likely come with reading the note, even if it was a little intimidating, the thought of someone interacting with you by way of your ruined poppy seed muffins. You plucked the sticky note from the rusty lid and held it up to your eyes, squinting to read the chicken scratch.

“Hey dude! These ones were not my favorites but still yummy! Get me some oatmeal cookies next time, the crispy ones! Those are fuckin’ delicious! -MC Mikey.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. Was this person seriously asking for more rejects? The only crispy oatmeal cookies that Paisley’s made that ended up in that bin were overcooked or half burnt, unless…did they think that this was a donation bin? Confused, you pushed your way through entrance and into the kitchen, claimed an empty work station, and headed over to the time clock to punch in your employee number. You were suddenly feeling a little bit more concerned for this individual than you did afraid of them. Maybe this was just someone ridiculously naïve. Maybe this was a kid that didn’t know any better and liked the smell that the trash behind Paisley’s had. Your sympathy had kicked in alongside a compulsive desire to bake those requested oatmeal cookies, and once you’d returned to your station you began flipping through the company cookbook for the recipe so you could sneak a mini-batch in-between actual requests.

After about 20 minutes, you pulled the first batch of cookies out of the oven and pushed the next sheet in. The smell was heavenly, an intoxicating mix of warm vanilla and cinnamon that made you salivate at first whiff. You picked up a cookie to check for the soft texture that was so characteristic for the recipe and sighed in relief when they pulled apart just like desserts did in those viral Instagram videos, softly and delicately. Hopefully these cookies would become this stranger’s new favorite. Whoever this was could have the experience of a real oatmeal cookie without the element of burnt edges interfering with the flavor, and the thought of being able to provide that joy was enough to put a little more pep in your step than was there before.

Several hours, a lunch break, and a couple run-ins with your bitch-of-a-manager later, you found yourself in front of the time clock again with a small Ziploc baggie of oatmeal cookies secured in your bag. They wouldn’t be as fresh as they were when they first came out of the oven unfortunately, but they’d still taste better than burnt and crispy cookies--that you were at least certain of. Once you’d finished punching in your employee number you made your way towards the back door as quickly as you could with aching arches and a stiff lower back. You stepped out onto the concrete stairs and waited for the latch behind you to click before making your way down the steps with one hand firmly grasped on the chipped railing beside you while the other dug around in your half-zipped bag for your keys and the Ziploc filled with cookies.

Your sneakers hit the alley and you let out a loud yawn while rolling your neck from shoulder to shoulder. You turned towards the “Fuck-Up” bin and gently placed the baggie on top of the lid. Should you have left a note? Would this person even care if there was a note as long as the cargo inside was sealed away from the elements? You let a puff of air out through your nose and let the worry roll of your shoulders as you turned back towards where you had parked your bike, keys jangling in hand. Just as you were about to reach your bike, you heard the shuffling sound again. Without hesitation you turned on your heel and looked back towards the garbage bins. Nothing had changed, nobody was there, but the noise of muffled footsteps said otherwise. This time you didn’t feel like running as much as you did like investigating the source of the noise to ease your curiosity to rest. You kept one hand firmly gripped on your pepper spray, and slowly stepped forwards, stopping at about the halfway point between you and the trash.

“Anybody there?” You called out. Your voice sounded particularly sick and crackly from the long work day. There weren’t any response and the sounds in the alley went dead quiet to underscore the sound of your own breathing instead. “If you’re the one who came by yesterday digging through our trash-” You started, wincing at your own condescending tone. You sounded so harsh, especially considering the fact that this could easily be a child based on what the handwriting had seemed like. “Sorry, I…I left you some oatmeal cookies. They’re on the lid.” You spoke softer, gesturing towards the “Fuck-Up” bin vaguely. The silence persisted. Now you were beginning to feel uneasy. The hairs on the back of your neck were practically standing up and you were beginning to think that you had either gone crazy or that maybe you were dealing with some kind of back-alley ghost.

Do ghosts even eat? Can ghosts even eat?

Without warning, a large hand partially cloaked by shadows broke free from the dumpster and began swiping in the general direction of where you had left the Ziploc bag. It would almost be comparable to a scene from a horror movie if the hand and the arm didn’t seem so clueless and desperate to get to the baggie. You fought back a smile and took a couple steps closer. You still had a grip on your concealed pepper spray just in case, but the thought of the stranger assaulting you was fading from the forefront of your mind. It wasn’t until you got close enough to see that this person’s hand was noticeably malformed—only two large fingers and a thumb—that fear was pushed onto the main burner once again. Clearly frustrated with the whole ordeal, the head and shoulders the appendage was attached to slammed up against the top of the dumpster and pushed the lid up against the wall behind him. That’s when he made almost immediate eye contact with you. Crystal blue eyes clashed against orange fabric and scaly green skin in a way that shocked your system to your core. This wasn’t a child, and it wasn’t a human, and it wasn’t, as far as you could gather, anywhere in between. A large shell was fused to his skin in a way that further broke your perception of reality as you tried to rationalize what you were seeing without thinking about costumes or special effects makeup or even aliens. You stood in shock for a moment, unblinking, watching as he strained to reach the baggie in front of him. He poked his tongue out and grunted as he stretched over the side of the dumpster, just barely missing the Ziploc with each swing of his arm.

“Dude, you could at least help!” He groaned, collapsing his upper body over the side of the dumpster in defeat.

You blinked and suddenly you were forced back into reality…or at least, whatever reality this was.

You took several more steps forward and snatched the Ziploc up in your hands, gently handing it to the…creature that was currently in the company dumpster. You had so many questions you needed to ask, too many questions, and without even opening your mouth the turtle began answering at least some of them one-by-one while shoving oatmeal cookies down his throat.

“I see you’re kiiiinda freaked out, and that’s okay! I get it, Mikey’s just so overwhelming to the ladies,” He said with a smug grin. “Turtle, mutant, ninja, sex god, what isn’t there to love angelcakes?” Your carefully baked batch of oatmeal cookies were disappearing in seconds, miniscule in comparison to the size and capacity of his stomach. “Oh, also?” He spoke through a mouthful of crumbs, spewing half-chewed chunks of oats and sugar all over the concrete beneath them. “These could use more cinnamon.”

“I-“ You hesitated for a moment. Your mind was filled to the brim with unfinished thoughts and rabbit trail theories about how Mikey himself was even possible (that is, if you weren’t dreaming) but they all came to a screeching halt when his comment about the cinnamon broke through your occupied mind. “Wait, really? I thought there was plenty, let me try that.” You huffed, snatching a cookie from one of his oversized, mutant hands. Within the first bite you were able to tell that he was right. The cinnamon flavor was more subtle than you had intended; a mere hint of warmth rather than the overwhelming comfort that you had been aiming for. “Oh. Yeah, I-I guess you’re right…Mikey.”

“Yeah, and those cupcakes the other day were-“

“Too much baking powder, I know,” You laughed and shook your head. “Those must’ve tasted gnarly, sorry,” You stopped mid-breath. “Wait. Cupcakes? Those were muffins.”

“Oooohh! So that’s why they didn’t come with frosting,” Mikey laughed. “Well that’s disappointing, I thought I was getting cupcakes. No wonder.” As the turtle crawled out from the dumpster with his empty Ziploc in hand, you became dwarfed beside him. He was tall, but not as menacing as you may have originally assumed. A half smile gradually worked its way onto your face as you looked up at him, trying to avoid grimacing at the smell of liquid garbage dripping all over his body.

“Next time I...I could make you cupcakes if you’d like.” You responded.

Mikey’s eyes looked alive with excitement as he nodded in complete agreement, musing aloud all his favorite flavors and fillings and frostings to you with a childlike delight. First there was snickerdoodle with extra cinnamon, then there was lemon meringue with more meringue than there was lemon. Red velvet with a whipped cream filling, double chocolate fudge with a gooey peanut butter center, tangy orange creamsicle with a tangerine wedge on top. You weren’t taking notes, but you figured that your personal investment in listening to a mutant turtle talk about his own takes on classic (and invented) flavors was enough to hold onto what he said in your memory, even if in the morning it may all seem like a hazy, drug-induced fever dream. You actually found yourself so intrigued with some of his flavor combinations and substitutions that you barely noticed that the grip you had been holding on the pepper spray had been entirely released, instead allowing that hand the freedom to gesture in a more relaxed manner as you articulated.

It wasn’t until the sound of a distant police siren echoing several streets away that the conversation stopped rather abruptly. The sound had grabbed the turtle’s attention in a way that stopped him in the middle of a sentence and replaced his excited expression with one of worry and concern. His eyes fell back towards you. You were searching his expression for a reason behind his troubled gaze just as much as you were looking for a clear answer behind what it was that made him who he was.

“Do you have a Sharpie?” He asked urgently. He looked behind him and over both of your shoulders nervously, as if he was waiting for someone to pounce, and that alone was enough to make you feel on edge again.

“Why?” Bewildered, you began digging in your bag again, searching for a permanent marker. You couldn’t find one but after clarifying that something similar might work, you managed to fish a red ink pen from the depths of your disorganized mess of a bag. Mikey snatched the pen from your hands, pulled the cap off with his teeth and spit it out onto the concrete, then stretched your forearm out in front of him. He scribbled a bunch of numbers rather messily onto your skin. He had accidentally smudged the undried ink a time or two and had to correct it, but when he was finished the string of numbers came out looking exactly like a standard, New-York area phone number. If this was a dream it sure was a detailed dream, you had to at least give it credit for that.

“My digits,” Mikey beamed while making the oh-so-stereotypical ‘call me’ gesture with his hand. “Call me, angelcakes. Unless you don’t want to, then like, don’t call me.” He shrugged. His confident aura practically dripped off of him as he began backing away into the shadows, shell nearly flush against the wall behind him. His hands rested on his holstered nunchakus as the police sirens faded away into the distance.

“Wait,” You faltered. Seeing him leave just as quickly as he had arrived made the flood of jumbled and confused thoughts come rushing back to you all at once. He couldn’t leave now, not when you were just beginning to get a grip on having him be a part of the same reality you were in. “Where are you going? What’s going on? What about the cupcakes?”

“Orange dreamsicle,” Mikey called back with a song in his voice. “Extra orange!” He said with a wink, while gesturing toward the cloth that covered his eyes.

Mikey had vanished into thin air, and just like that, you found yourself immersed in relative silence again. You pinched your forearm but didn’t wake up. You pulled on a singular lock of hair really hard, but didn’t wake up. Whatever you had just witnessed was still your reality, as evidenced by the smudgy red ink on your skin. You blinked once, then twice, then wiped the sweat off of your keys and your pepper spray and began shuffling towards your motorbike again. You turned your keys in the ignition, but when the engine started you didn’t feel the relief that you normally did when you were getting ready to head home from a grueling shift at work. If anything, your energy levels had peaked alongside your need to satiate your newfound curiosity aching in your bones. You pushed the kickstand up, removed the lock, pulled your phone out of your back pocket, and took your seat. You glanced down at your forearm again. The messy red ink was becoming clearer the more you stared at it. Perhaps it was just natural human tendencies at work, or maybe even fate, but the words just seemed to naturally tumble onto your keyboard once you’d copied the smudgy numbers into your contact list.

“Hey, Mikey right? I forgot to tell you my name. It’s Y/N.”

#authoring by ace #acelikesturtles #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2016 #bayverse tmnt #prompt

[ericsonclan]

Ugly Sweater Surprise

Summary: James, Omar, Louis get together to work on a special Christmas surprise for their friends.

Word Count: 3103

Read on A03:

James took a deep breath, letting the aroma of gingerbread and sugar cookies fill his nose as Omar pitter pattered around the Ericson High dorm room kitchens. The brownie was gathering up all the cookies that they had already baked. The cyclops looked in awe at the amount Omar and he had created and the variety too. Blood, insect, seaweed, chicken, charcoal. All types of cookies that were suitable for monsters had been made for the special surprise the two of them and Louis had come up with for tomorrow. They needed to finish all these cookies before they went over to the frankenstein’s mansion later that night.

“How’s the frosting coming along?” Omar’s calming voice pulled James out of his thoughts and back to the frosting piping bag that was halfway filled with green frosting.

“I think I should be able to get the first batch done soon,” James smiled softly over at his friend who returned it in kind before moving to get his oven mitts. The cyclops returned to his task, his eye focusing entirely on making the best Christmas designs on the different sugary treats.

“So, have any fond Christmas traditions?” Omar glanced up from the oven as he moved a sheet of sugar cookies onto the stovetop.

“Hmmm,” James thought carefully about that, his nose scrunched up in concentration. “Nothing that special. We’d go to the forest and during wintertime the light bugs would come out and dance around the trees,” James had a nostalgic look in his eye. “It was magical.” He continued frosting the cookie.

“That sounds really beautiful,” The brownie smiled over at his friend.

“What about you?” The cyclop’s brown eye wandered over to Omar.

“The feast,” Omar set down the last batch of cookies to cool. “My family and I would make the greatest food. Our kitchens would be filled with all kinds of food: ham, chestnuts, potatoes, rolls. It’s a once a year feast that puts all others to shame.” Omar had a warm smile on his face as he moseyed over to join his roommate in finishing up decorating the cookies.

“Are you going to have it this year too?” James looked down at his friend who gave a short nod.

“Yep, I can’t wait. Although,” Omar began to decorate a sugar cookie in the shape of a candy cane, “I am going to miss everyone and having you as a roommate even if it’s only for a week or so.”

James got a little teary eyed at the thought. He wouldn’t be visiting his family during this time of year so it would be sad not to have his late night conversation and snack times with his friend.

“Well, it’s not for too long. Oh,” James’ eye fell when he saw he’d messed up on a cookie.

“It’s okay,” Omar pitter pattered over and got up on his stepping stool. “All you need to do is add some more red there and it fixes the mistake.”

The cyclops looked in awe at his friend’s skill and gave a gentle smile over his way.

“Thank you,”

“It’s no big deal,” Omar hopped down and continued his work. The brownie and cyclops continued to work until all the cookies were decorated and safely placed on the Christmas trays. They walked together, talking casually as they headed back to their dorm room. When they entered the room, James took the cookie trays and placed them in a safe spot while Omar bustled to get their Christmas sweaters. After a minute the brownie returned, moving past the bookshelf filled with cookbooks and nature and towards his roommate. James thanked his friend and placed his sweater on. It was a red and white sweater with the words “All Eye Want for Christmas is You” on the front.

“Do you need some help?” James asked as he saw Omar struggling with his sweater a bit.

“Yes, I would really appreciate it,” The brownie’s voice was muffled from the item of clothing. The cyclops delicately worked with his pal and shuffled the sweater back and forth until it fit snugly over his form. It was a simple design on the blue sweater with the words “Hug the Brownie” plastered sloppily on the front. Omar had told James that Louis had made it for him then the frankenstein got so excited about the idea of making ones for all the others. That was how this event tonight was happening. It was why the two friends were heading over to the Louis’ house to make a Christmas gift for everyone. Omar glanced down at his watch and gave a small tsking sound.

“It looks like we’re running a little late,”

“Oh no!” James’ already large eye grew even larger.

“It’s fine,” Omar waved a hand dismissively. “Knowing Louis he’ll be waiting anxiously, but I’ll send him a text to let him know,” Omar pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons before placing the device back in his pocket. With that the pair set out towards the front of Ericson where to neither of their surprise a car waited with a driver sent by Louis. The duo walked forward and thanked the chauffeur, getting into the car and enjoying the ride there.

Both of them were thankful for the ride. Neither had a car and taking the bus to even get close to Louis’ house would most likely damper their Christmas mood with all the odd looks and whispered insults the humans would give when they say the sweatered monsters. Smooth Christmas jazz music was playing on the radio which the cyclops and the brownie enjoyed as the car slowly made its way along the snow-covered road and up to the mansion.

When the car pulled into the driveway they saw that Louis had already been waiting. The frankenstein’s usual friendly smile was plastered on his face as he slipped and skidded on the snow to get to them. “You made it!” Louis smiled brightly at the pair. “And you’re wearing the sweater I made,” He looked over at Omar who gave a small smile.

“Of course,”

“Oh, I like your sweater t...t..tchoo,” Louis’ head nearly slipped off due to the force of the sneeze as he complimented James’ sweater.

“Are you okay?” James looked concerned for his friend’s health.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get inside. I made a ton of hot cocoa and treats to munch while we work.” The frankenstein led the way, clearly excited to have people over while his father was away for the next week or so. Louis opened the door and began to guide his two buddies through his maze of a house. The trio moved past the movie theater and pizza parlor, through the different guests rooms and finally made it to what Louis declared to be the decorating room. There on the floor were three sets of five pairs of sweaters. Glitter, glue guns, and all other types of arts and crafts were there to make the “bestest Christmas sweaters in all of Ericson High” as the frankenstein put it. The three monsters took their spots and took a few minutes to chat about this and that as Louis turned on the Christmas music that played through the speakers. Omar looked intrigued by the hot cocoa that Louis brewed which he said Clem had shown him how to make and was an “Everett secret”. The brownie made a note to ask the human about the recipe at tomorrow’s surprise party.

“So, should we get started?” James swayed nervously back and forth.

“Yes!” Louis snatched up the first sweater and grabbed the glitter. “I’m gonna make the best sweater for Clem!”

“Oh, then I guess I’ll start with one for Jesse,” James said with a shy smile.

“I’ll make one for Ruby then,” Omar smiled warmly at the thought of his best friend receiving this homemade gift. He knew how much Ruby loved and was touched by homemade gifts. The trio started their work on the sweaters. The frankenstein used all the red and green glitter he could while writing every so carefully the words “You’re My Christmas Wish” in white. Louis smiled proudly and shook off the excess sparkles then held it up for his friends to see.

“Ta-da!” The frankenstein beamed proudly at his creation for his girlfriend. “Get it, cause she’s my Christmas wish!” The frankenstein’s cheeks began to flush.

“Wow, that looks good,” James’ eye widened at the sweater then looked down nervously at his own.

“You want to show us?” Omar asked James in a gentle voice while Louis let out an excited gasp and started bouncing this way and that.

“Ooo! Ooo! I want to see Jesse’s sweater!” Louis poked his two pointer fingers together. James thought about it for a second then moved back to show his progress so far. The words “I’ll Put a Christmas Spell on  You” were present on the blue sweater while a small gorgon face was at the center of it. The colors and stripes of candy canes replaced the snakes that were usually on a gorgon’s head.

“That's really good,” Omar smiled warmly at his friend then returned to his work while Lous continued to praise James who wasn’t used to so many compliments and got slightly overwhelmed by them. After a minute Omar had finished his sweater while the other two had begun to work on their second sweaters; the frankenstein was working his hardest on one for his werewolf best friend while James had begun work on Tenn's ugly sweater.

“I think it turned out alright,” Omar held up Ruby’s sweater that he had made. It was a beautiful Christmas tree that had the words “O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree” delicately written in yellow over the tree that had small ornaments representing each of the monster pals.

“Whoa!” Louis leaned forward and almost spilled glitter onto Violet’s sweater. “Oh shit!” He caught the bottle of glitter. The cyclops looked over with concern before letting out a sigh of relief.

“I love it,” James complimented the brownie’s handiwork. “All the different ornaments like this little bat one and the matching bird ones. It's super detailed. I’m sure Ruby will love it.” That made Omar’s smile grow as he carefully placed it aside, excitement bubbling within his heart at the thought of his best friend receiving the gift. He moved on to Allison’s sweater. Louis hummed happily to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” which James and Omar quickly joined in on. Each of them was enjoying their ugly sweater making party so far.

After a little while each of them revealed their second finished creations. Louis displayed his dramatically, holding up a deep blue sweater that looked like it held thousands of stars. White and yellow letters read “Starlight, Starbright”.

“Violet will definitely love that,” James’ response made Louis jump for joy, causing one of his hands to pop off. After Omar had retrieved the hand and helped his friend place it back on, he held up his creation. It was a pale blue sweater with delicate snowflakes dancing around the fabric with the words “Heart of Snow” with a small snow heart beside the text. James was next. The cyclops shyly held up his latest work: a green sweater saying “The Ghost of Christmas Present” with a red and green present below it.

“Tenn’s gonna flip when he sees that!” Louis’ dreadlocks swayed with how fast he lunged forward to get a closer look.

“I-Is that a bad thing?’ James looked at the sweater then at his two friends.

“No, it’s a good thing,” Omar said with a calm expression on his face. “Tenn is really going to like it.”

James beamed at those words and tucked away his second creation. With that the trio of monsters worked on their next designs. Louis got up for a few minutes, saying he would refill the snacks and drinks. After nearly fifteen minutes he returned and placed a plethora of goodies in front of his pals. The three snacked happily for a while as they brainstormed some more ideas.

“Alright,” Louis tossed the remainder of a Christmas cookie in his mouth and dusted off his hands. “Let’s get started on another great sweater!”

It was some time before any of them had finished up. Omar was the first this time, holding up Willy’s gift. “Christmas Under the Sea” read proudly over the top in seafoam green and blues as different seaweed and cute sea creatures filled the sweater. Next James showed his finished work for Sophie. He had wanted to make some special adjustments to the sleeves so the harpy’s feathers wouldn’t get pressed harshly against her arms. It was a vibrant red sweater that had two turtle doves that flew in the center of it.

“Who’s the second turtle dove?” Omar’s question made James’ eye blink in realization.

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. I guess it could be Minnie or Tenn.”

“No!” Louis shook his head; his dreadlocks bounced with the force of his movement. “I bet it’s Marlon. True love conquers all!”

“I don’t know,” Omar leaned back, his hand on his chin. “I think it could be Renata. Friendship is just as special as either of those two bonds.”

“True,” James nodded along then looked back at the sweater.

Louis pondered the conundrum gravely. “Well, I guess there’s only one way to settle this. We’ll make a bet on which we think she’ll say tomorrow when I ask her.” James and Omar shared a look before nodding in agreement. Then Louis held up his latest masterpiece. The words “Baby It’s Cold Outside” were dancing in fiery letters above a fireplace on the maroon sweater. The cyclops and the brownie didn’t even have to guess whose it was. It obviously was made for the fire elemental Aasim. The monsters looked around and saw that they were already halfway done. Their smiles remained ever present as they kept humming along to the carols and decorating.

James seemed focused on working on his last two sweaters simultaneously and so the frankenstein and brownie finished their fourth sweaters first. Louis held up his gift to Prisha: a white sweater with the words “I’d Take a Bite of That” were shown in blood red above a Christmas cookie that had a bite already taken out of it.  Omar showed off his latest sweater next. It was an ocean blue sweater with the text “I’m Dreaming of a Blue Christmas” in a light blue color. Seashells and little seals were placed at the center of the sweater.

“You’re both so talented,” James looked up from his work with a gentle smile.

“Heh,” Louis rubbed the spot under his nose. “I love making gifts for friends.”

“Me too,” Omar’s smile grew as he pitter pattered over to add Brody’s sweater to the rest of the finished clothing. The pair of friends glanced over at the cyclops who looked busy, still hard at work on his duo of sweater projects. So Louis and Omar began to work on their last ones. The frankenstein’s tongue stuck out slightly as he worked on Marlon’s sweater. He wanted it to turn out really cool for his best friend. Meanwhile Omar was working as diligently as ever on Mitch’s sweater.

After what felt like ages all three monsters finished their last sweaters. Omar displayed his sweater first. It was a white and red striped sweater where a reindeer rode on top of a comet.

“Oh!” Louis hit his fist on his open palm. “Comet like the reindeer!”

“That’s right,” Omar gave a short nod. “What about you, Louis? What did you make for Marlon?”

“I made this!” Louis smiled as he held the sweater in front of his face so his friends could get a closer look. It was a set of snowmen that had the words “My Mind Is On Christmas” below them. It sparkled and shone in the light due to all the glitter the frankenstein had put on it.

“Marlon is really gonna like that one,” James said as Louis and Omar moved over to place down their last sweaters in the sweater corner.

“Thanks! Now show us yours. You gotta have been working on Renata’s and MInnie’s,’ Louis sat crisscross applesauce and leaned forward in excitement. Omar also seemed intrigued by what the designs could be. James shifted the sweaters and placed them side by side. “The one on the left is for Renata and the one on the right is for Minnie,” the cyclops explained. The monsters leaned forward, taking in the sight of Renata’s sweater first. The word “Naughty” was placed in the center with little foxes standing above it and playing below it. A fox tail in the form of a question mark was beside the word. Then they looked over at Minnie’s that had the word “Nice” on it. It was tucked away in a little nest with small white eggs decorated in Christmas colors.

“Wow! These are great!” Louis hopped on his feet and did a little spin. “They all turned out awesome! Our secret ugly sweater making party was a success!” The frankenstein pulled proudly on the air by the sides of his shirt.

Omar gave a warm smile. “It was a lot of fun.”

Yeah, I-” James was cut off by a sharp yawn that made his eye water slightly.

“Oh, are you tired, James? If you two want you can totally stay over for a sleepover.” Louis looked anxious for their response to his question. The two roommates shared a look before a happy, excited smile took over both of their faces.

“Sounds like fun,”

The brownie’s words made Louis do a little jump as he sprinted out of the room. “I’ll get the guest room set up with sleeping bags and stuff! Oh! Let’s also watch a Christmas movie too! I wonder which….” Louis’ voice disappeared as he slid across the floors and headed towards preparing what was sure to be a fun all-nighter with how this evening was panning out. James and Omar rose from their spots to help out their friend. Pausing for a moment, the two looked at the completed sweaters with proud smiles.

“They’re gonna be super excited tomorrow,” James commented which made Omar’s smile grow.

“With these sweaters and cookies, I’m sure there won’t be a non-smiling face in sight,” The brownie and cyclops continued to talk as they ambled out of the room, excited for tomorrow and all the joy it would bring.

#twdg #twdg james #twdg louis #twdg omar #we are monsters we are proud au #fanfic #twdg christmas #ericsonclanchristmaschallenge #louis omar brotp #james omar brotp #louis james brotp

[iguessihavemore]

TD Garden Chap.2: Not Your Garden Variety Pt.2

I wanted to finish off this episode with this part, but I’m having trouble with a few scenes after what I have here, along with the plethora of shit going on lately that I’m guessing you can imagine. So I decided to make this a 2/3 instead. I feel like it gives a pretty good idea of what everybody is running off to do anyway, so I hope you enjoy it for now!

The host produced two folded pieces of paper from his back pocket, holding them out to the mass of teens in front of him. “Y’all ready for a little island/garden scavenger hunt-”

“IT’S CHALLENGE TIMEeEeE!!!” Jackson screeched, lunging forward and ripping both from him. Chris held his hands up palm-open at the boy.

Rosie rolled up one of her boxy sleeves. “Hey now-” She began lightly.

Nadine waved at her to stay, dancing forward instead. After a few quick steps, Nadine stretched over on one foot until she was nearly horizontal. The sudden image of her face at his chest made Jackson jump, and she took the opportunity to pluck one of the lists from him.

“Hrmph!” He grunted, tearing the remaining one open. Both teams leaned into their respective paper.

A noticeable rift was between the Cheshire Queens and Hare Hatters now, and the only ones within it were the conjoined twins. They both turned a head to a team, then at each other over their shared shoulder. Avery and Erika whispered until they reached a conclusion, opting to sidle towards the Queens.

Chris cleared his throat and began to explain what they were reading. “Both teams have to find twelve roses, then an additional double-headed rose. So thirteen in all.” A few eyes flicked towards the twins. “After that, you’ll see that there are a bunch of taped-on flower names. You only have to pick four.” The teens sighed in relief- finding upwards of twenty things hadn’t sounded like much fun.

“And you’re going to want to choose wisely. Once you collect all your flowers, you need to make a bouquet with them. It needs to have a theme, and it needs to not look like GARBAGE. Just saying that because I want you all to know that I don’t have faith in any of you, so just ‘not bad’ will suffice. The team that has the nicer bouquet may be able to win, even if it’s incomplete. However, your team can only end the challenge if you’ve collected all of your flowers.” The host explained.

Pathetically, Rosie whined, “So all this means…. when we find them, we HAVE to p- p- p- p- pick them…?”

“...Yeeeaaahhh…” Chris drawled blandly.

“Oh, Chris, I can’t-!” Rosie cried out.

“Ah-ah!” Chris harshly waved off her outburst. Her bottom lip quivered agape, but she opted to start fretfully biting her nails instead.

“Now, with my flawless photographic memory, we dumped the stuff…” Chris muttered under his breath, squinting into the distance with his hands bordering his face. Lucas perked up out of his pouting long enough to curiously come up behind him, twisting the host a few inches to the side. “Right there!” Chris immediately said, motioning in that direction with his hands like an aircraft marshall. Lucas put his fists on his hips proudly.

“Go down that way, and you’ll find all the supplies you’ll need for making a bouquet. It’s also where we threw all your luggage.”

Jackson snapped his head up from reading the list. His knees started to bob as he listened more intently.

“And that’s all you really need to know-” Chris began to conclude, prompting Jackson to jump up and tear towards where they were directed.

The action alone set an uneasy energy through the rest, impatiently eying Chris. He gave an irritated sigh and a short nod, and the tense batch of teens took off, just itching to begin this game.

All but one, that is.

“Wh- hey! What are you all doing!?” Roger yelled, throwing his hands up. “You’re going the wrong way!”

“Come on Roger, catch up!” Jennifer impatiently ordered him.

“But- but- don’t we need roses? There was a bush full of them but- they’re in the other direction!!” He was just about screaming to be heard as the distance between him and the others grew larger, but what he said stopped them in their tracks.

Within seconds, Paulie swiveled on her heel and rushed backwards, toothily grinning. She shoved the team scepter into the muscular crook of Tony’s arm as she passed. He blinked down at it.

A few members of the Hare Hatters were up to the task, but Cameron was the one who broke into a run for it first. “I got this!” She cockily assured the rest. With a person from each team on it, most of them went back to barreling towards the tools and luggage.

Roger only watched the girls go past him. “I don’t-” He huffed, confused and irritated. “Which way are we going, then!? Why do we even need to run-” 

Amelia jogged back for him. Her voice even more feathery than usual, she told him, “Paulie’s going to get the flowers. Come on Roger, let’s go get our stuff!” She flashed a smile at him and took his hand in hers.

“AH UH oh,” Roger failed to object, probably unsure if he wanted to, and simply allowed her to lead him into running with the others.

They passed in front of both sets of sisters: the twins, who were the only ones who opted to walk, and Stella and Marina, who were jogging lightly side-by-side. Stella watched after them, eyes half-lidded. “REAL dumb.”

*The Shed: Stella and Marina* The adopted sisters sat on either side of the bench. Stella was slumped over, idly toying with a trowel, while Marina addressed the camera. “Too many people assume that Stella isn’t smart because she can’t communicate well. But that isn’t the case at all! She’s full of good thoughts and ideas.”

She looked at her sister. “People like Roger who are able to process and communicate neurotyically but can’t… do a lot with it?” She bashfully rose a brow, trying not to say ‘dumb.’ “Might make Stella a bit jealous.” *End* *III*

Cameron and Paulie were heading full-speed towards the winner’s cabin. Paulie’s lime-colored coils bounced behind her, and Cameron’s plum hair hopped around her face, the green tips flying wildly. They shared a competitive smile as they kept pace with one another, a playful edge to their respective dusty red and dark pink eyes.

When they came to the bush, they wasted no time in circling it and grabbing their roses, getting a little nicked by the thorns in the process. Paulie jumped away from it first, whirling around pridefully. “First!”

“Tch, well-” Cameron was prepared to retort, but her final grab for her last rose came up empty. “Wha? Heheh.” She held up a finger to silently ask that Paulie wait. The baker responded by shifting her weight to one foot and putting her empty hand on hip, smirking.

Cameron searched around it a few more times. She stomped up to Paulie suspiciously. “How is it that YOU got twelve roses and I got all the way up to eleven, but there aren’t ANY more left?”

Paulie shrugged. “Man, I don’t know, you see that I only got a dozen!”

Cameron counted them and deflated. “Awfully strange it only had twenty-three.” She frowned at her own incompletely bundle.

“Probs just a coincidence and not, like, something they planned. It ain’t anybody’s fault how many times the thing tries to reproduce. Or whatever roses are biologically for.” Paulie mused.

“Yeah… but it’s your fault that you’re gonna eat my dust!” Cameron charged off.

“Oh-HO!” The punk gleefully followed suit.

*The Shed: Paulie* “I really only did pick a dozen!” Paulie flashed her now-empty hands forward. She reached behind her back and pulled out her thirteenth rose, giving it a sniff. “Well, a baker’s dozen, but who’s counting?” *End* *III*

Soon enough for the head of the pack, two tables came into view. He rushed by both, completely ignoring them to get to the stacks of bags and suitcases at the end of the clearing. Not that he cared, but the foliage around him consisted mostly of twiggy shrubs and patches of wild flowers.

Jackson located his duffel bag with an excited wheezy noise, immediately lunging for it. 

CLANG

A second too late, his eyes unfocused enough to let him see that he was careening for a metal cage. And then his face ran into it.

“ooOWW!” He seethed, pulling himself up. “What?” He scrambled around the metal frame, trying to get to his stuff until he finally realized it was stuck inside. He found a padlock and yanked it to no avail. “A hostage situation!?”

Jennifer trotted up behind him, followed by Tony, Jupiter in a sweat, and Amelia with Roger. They all understood that their stuff was locked inside the cage without needing to run into it.

Jupiter noticed the other team come up to a second cage, spaced exactly like the tables. “Guess we only get our things when the challenge ends- er- I mean when we win, eh?” They attempted a smile.

“You betcha!” Amelia agreed, freeing Roger from herself. He turned away, crossing his arms to stare only at the sky if not nervously side-eyeing the actress. Amelia addressed Jackson, putting on a worried expression. “Chris will doubtfully let us get anything from there for awhile. Is that okay? No immediate concerns?”

Jackson brushed off his knees. “Nah, I just needed to make sure nobody got their grubby hands on my stuff! Looks like it’s safe- for now…” He suspiciously surveyed the clearing.

“Now,” Jennifer stepped closer. “May I finally get my hands on THIS?” She swiped down and tore their list from his tight grasp. He nervously chuckled and apologized, which Jennifer rolled her eyes at.

At last, the conjoined twins made it to the area. There was still a wide gap between the teams. They could have decided to stay in the middle of that and render themselves utterly useless, but opted to gravitate towards the Hare Hatters this time. They were greeted to Rosie speedily pacing back and forth, panicking out loud. 

Marina and Stella were climbing on the cage; Nadine and Annabelle were examining the array of tools on the table. They were all clearly keeping watch of the nature enthusiast.

“You’re supposed to leave nature as is!” She fretted. “I can’t possibly go against camping 101, rule numero UNO! I WILL FALL APART!”

“Oh, that hasn’t happened yet?” Annabelle lazily quipped.

Marina had been sitting with her eyebrows cinced in thought. Her demeanor brightened and she hopped to the ground, walking over to Rosie. “Rosie, this isn’t camping- this is a garden! It follows different rules than what you’re used to.” She sent a mauve smile up to her, gesturing for her to lower her fingers from her teeth.

“In fact, it helps a lot of plants to pick off the flowering part. And there’s not really an ecosystem we can disrupt here. Trust me, Stella and I are from a farm, we know all about it!” The singer explained.

“Farms are…” Rosie clenched her hands. “My nightmare. They’re so close to what I’m used to, just… less fun.”

Marina chuckled. “They aren’t that bad! Give them a try.”

“It’ll be like camping in bizarro-world.” Annabelle offered.

Rosie whined out. She relaxed with defeat.

Cameron and Paulie burst through the entry of the clearing in a flurry of panting. Rosie was now sound-of-mind enough to bother noticing Cameron stumble her way towards their team.

The ghost hunter held out the bundle of roses, her shoulders slumped. “Shitty new, you guys…” Rosie, unseen by the others, squinted.

“Got ‘em!” Paulie proudly thrust her set of flowers toward the other Queens.

“Yes!” Jackson pumped his fists. Jupiter took notice of the pinpricks on her fingers, and Amelia sighed dreamily at the pastel pink blooms.

“We should make a romantic bouquet!” The actress said.

“Uh-huh,” Jennifer voiced without interest, lowering the list she was reading. “Or we could make it goth.”

Amelia scoffed. To her shock, Paulie and Jackson gasped in delight. “YEAAAH!! GOTH BOU-QUET, GOTH BOU-QUET!” They chanted.

“I guess it would be a cool first impression?” Jupiter mused.

“Uhhhh… did you guys even look at them-?” Amelia started to argue, but paused. A mischievous smile crossed her lips.

“Chris is- he’ s like- almost here.” Tony informed everyone. With much (unneeded) urging from Jackson, Jennifer began peeling off flower names that they wouldn’t be using.

In between the two tables, Chris stood with his fists planted on his waist. “THANKS for making me take that walk. God knows my rigorous professional workout plan isn’t cutting it.” He complained. “Alright gardeners, I’ll be taking those flowers you don’t want now.”

The Hatters sent Nadine to take their handful of paper slips, and Jupiter had offered to go for the Queens.

Chris held his palms out. “May I ask what you guys decided on? By which I mean you have to tell me ‘cause there’s no way I’m looking through this mess to figure out which ones aren’t in it?”

Nadie looked up at him happily as she placed the scrap clump in his hands. “We decided on a cute, bright bouquet!” 

“Cool! Not what I asked.” Chris responded.

“We picked a bunch of blue and yellow flowers to go with this pink we got,” Rosie chimed in, flipping her wrist at the roses.

“-Still didn’t ask-”

“So we’re going to p- find- pic- grab some daffodils, snowdrops, forget-me-knots, and pansies.” Rosie read off their list.

“Alright. Cheshire Queens?” 

“We decided on the exact opposite- a goth bouquet.” Jennifer said.

“Lit-er-ally I DON’T care!” Chris barked.

Jennifer’s teeth gleamed with pride. “I know. We chose to find orchids, hydrangeas, carnations, and…” Her tone faltered for once. “... pansies.”

“Erg- why did we pick that!?” Amelia whispered.

“How could I have known!” Jennifer snapped back.

Chris clamped down on the papers dropped into his hand, causing Jupiter to jump. “Too late! Guess you guys are gonna have to share!” He taunted. “I’ll leave you to it. Just remember, you can’t end the game unless you have all of your flowers. And once you do, you can end it whenever your bouquet is ready.” He sauntered away after giving those last reminders.

The teens were awkwardly stagnant around the tables after his absence, not mingling too far. Marina was the only one who verbally stated she and her sister were going to search around the immediate clearing first, an idea shared with the others as they started to shuffle around the shrubbery.

It didn’t take long for Jackson to get fidgety about this, however. “Where’s that bush!? I bet that special rose is inside it!” He sprung into the air and dashed off.

“I can- wrap you up so you don’t get- injured.” Jupiter fiddled with the edge of their coat as they spoke towards him, turning as he passed.

“No time-”

Paulie jumped into his path and caught him by his shoulders. “Ah ah ah!” She spun him around. “We don’t want you looking like me, now.” She waved one of her scar-littered arms in his face while she shoved him back.

He grumbled and stuck his heels in the dirt, but all it did was leave marks in the ground. Jupiter smiled awkwardly and dug out a roll of gauze from their inner pocket.

“Sooo....” Annabelle voiced on the Hatters side, rocking backwards. “It would make sense to split up, yeah?”

“I’ll go with the sisters.” Nadine piped in, motioning her thumb at the two in a nearby flowerbed. Avery and Erika seemed to hang their heads just a little.

Cameron grinned, brushing off her hands. “I’m down with splitting. But first, does that list come with any pictures? I’m not sure I know what a sno- ACK!”

She had tried to lean in to see the paper Rosie was holding, but Rosie shot two fingers into the girl’s hairline, pushing her away with a strained grimace of a smile. “Now, Cameron, I thought you were going to take care of the roses? That’s the first thing you ever told our team you were going to do, and you didn’t complete it! That’s not a very look.” She bent down, fingers still harshly pushing into her bangs. “How can you expect us to trust you with anything else? Find that last rose, and then you can help the rest of us.”

Cameron stumbled back, eyebrows cinched incredulously. The rest of the team behind Rosie were clearly shocked by the scene. Annabelle coughed into her fist, bringing Rosie back to focus. The others were able to look nonchalant in time before she turned around. 

“I was thinking I would take off with you?” Annabelle asked, finger-gunning at the nature enthusiast.

Rosie cocked her head with a relaxed smile, as if nothing had happened. “I don’t mind the company one bit!”

They turned to leave, Annabelle throwing Cameron a confused shrug over her shoulder. The ghost hunter rubbed her forehead.

The twins kept to themselves at the outskirts; Nadine went over to the remaining sisters. Jennifer watched the Hatters more or less break off, and decided to speak up to her own team.

“Alright, we should start spreading around the island.” She looked around at the state of the Queens- Paulie idly leaning against a post caught her eye.

Paulie flicked her gaze to the goth as she drew near, a smirk crossing her face. “Yeah, I’ll be on that as soon as ’m sure Jackson’s all good. Don’t think Jups will catch him if he runs away.”

Jennifer peered over her shoulder at the two sitting on the ground. Jupiter tucked some gauze around Jackson’s fingers, and through his pout, he reluctantly said, “...At least I’ll look like a badass brawler.”

“Oh, I’m just kinda covering your hands. Do you want me to wrap you up like a boxer?” Jupiter offered.

He shook his platinum, choppy locks. “Nuh-uh, no way. ‘Wasting enough time as it is.”

Jupiter nodded and went back to work. Jackson squirmed.

“...Give me the fighter wrap…” He conceded to his inner desires. Jupiter began to undo the current bandages without question.

Jennifer placed her hands on her hips and sighed upwards. “What a fanatic.” She grumbled. “But it is a pretty good idea that I know I don’t want to do.” She relented, getting a chuckle out of Paulie.

Jennifer put her attention to the table instead. There she saw Amelia blissfully humming on a large rock, tapping the roses on the table surface like a secretary straightening her paperwork.

“...The hell are you doing?” She came up to her curiously.

Amelia regarded her with a smug pause. “You decided to make a dark, gloomy bouquet with these pretty pink flowers! It’ll take a bit to dye them a more fitting shade. Plus, someone needs to hold fort. Honestly, it should be obvious.”  She flicked her wrist at the goth and reached for a bottle of dark dye with the other.

“Oh! Well in that case, get your ass up and actually help.” Jennifer barked. “You aren’t going to be making excuses to look busy, especially when all the rest of us are working.”

Amelia’s eyebrows rose lazily, not bothering to look up. “I have countless hours in set design and prop building, honey. Sorry to be frank, but nobody can do this better than me.” She briefly looked Jennifer in the eye. “It’s simply the wrong move to have me do anything else.”

Jennifer was definitely about to argue, but a light tap on her shoulder stopped her before she began.

“Ah-!” Roger startled. “I trust Amelia to know what she’s talking about.”

Jennifer groaned, rubbing her temples. “FINE. Let her have her way. Of course the little princess gets to be the only one sitting around- not surprised.” She stomped away, but not before yanking Roger by his upper arm. “You’re coming with me. I can’t risk you imprinting on anybody else.”

“Hey, wh- I don’t get what you’re saying-!” He stumbled to catch up with the arm she was dragging him away with.

Amelia watched them go with her sparkly blues. “Hm.” She cockily shrugged to herself.

*The Shed: Jennifer* “Any other day if somebody tried to pull that with me on a group project, I would have grabbed them over that table by their stupid done-up hair.” Jennifer was leaned over close to the camera, pointing at her long and loose dark hair, but meaning Amelia’s auburn brown, heavily curled locks. “Unfortunately I can’t trust anybody here yet to not see me as the bad guy in that situation.” *End*

”Ooh I’m just gonna sit here and decorate like it’s HARD,” Jennifer mocked under her breath as she trudged past Rosie and Annabelle on her way out. She ignored Roger telling her that it was Amelia who was doing that and not her.

“Oh! Decorating! That’s what this is in the end, isn’t it?” Annabelle stopped in her tracks and turned to Rosie excitedly. “Hey, you think I can hang out and plan that bouquet? I love this kind of ribbons and artsy junk.”

Rosie’s head sunk. “Better you than me.”

“Cool, won’t let you down.” Annabelle smiled confidently with a snap of her fingers. She went back to the table as Rosie left the clearing behind her.

Marina intently noticed the absence of their giant teammate. Much to Nadine’s annoyance, who’d been trying to get the sisters to leave with her for a while now. The black girl walked closer to Annabelle. “Annabelle! I’m so glad you stuck around.”

“Oh, yeah?” She lifted her head quizzically. “Did you need me somethin’? Haha.”

“I wanted to make a team huddle about Rosie. It looks like we’re all here except for her- good.” Marina explained. This instantly drew Cameron in. Marina flicked her eyes toward the conjoined twins, but considering how intense their staring was, figured they would listen in without invitation, anyway.

Once they began a true little huddle, she continued. “I think cursing is what’s setting Rosie off. For whatever reason, she looks really upset when swears or suggestive things are said.”

“Dang, she’s too tall for me to notice.” Annabelle said.

“Are you serious!? THAT’S why she snapped on me?” Cameron shouted.

Annabelle chuckled. “I guess I noticed that one.”

“I think we’ll go a lot further if we don’t say things that bother her so much.” Marina added. “If she’s the type to lash out like this.”

“That blows.” Cameron further complained.

Nadine crossed her arms under her shirt’s panda icon. “I don’t like tip-toeing around, and Rosie’s reaction earlier wasn’t acceptable, but I also want to be a functioning team. Keeping as many hands on deck for as long as possible just makes sense.”

“Y- Maybe for you guys, but I’m already on her bad side!” Cameron threw her hands up. “This is going to suck double for me.”

“We’re on your side if she keeps giving you trouble.” Nadine reassured her.

“Hmm…” Marina cupped her dark brown chin. “You could maybe avoid that by apologizing to her? It’ll be hard for her to be passive aggressive if you make it clear you didn’t want to hurt her.”

Cameron sputtered a bit. “Aw, she doesn’t really deserve an apology- I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“It’s not really about deserving....” Annabelle explained. “It’s about her chilling out and not bothering you or us anymore.”

“Er... also that even though you didn’t mean to, cursing upsets her! And unless you meant to upset her, you want her to know you feel bad that you did!” Marina added once again. “In fact, you’re in the right if you want an apology in return.”

“But that isn’t likely if you don’t give her one first.” Nadine said with an edge of finality. She gave Cameron a quirked brow.

She groaned, slumping over. “I don’t wanna… but fine, whatever. But uh- heheh- not until I find that rose. Don’t want her focusing on that the whole time, y’know?”

Stella had wandered a foot away quite some time ago, the twins never ceased staring, and the rest agreed in some fashion to keep it PG before breaking off.

The ghost hunter sighed a long sigh, pushing her hands down her face.

*The Shed: Cameron* “Maaan being the bigger person is disgusting!” She whined, lying on her back sprawled on the bench. “Like, it literally turns my stomach.” *End*

Behind her, Jackson jumped into the air loudly proclaiming, “Finally! Now to give that rose bush a piece of my miiiiind!!” He charged away.

Cameron perked up, whirling in the direction he had gone. Her purple eyebrows lowered in determination, silently taking after him.

Satisfied, Paulie stretched off the post she was leaning on. Her hands dropping behind her head, she studied the environment. A sight caught her eye in the distance.

Jupiter eyed the dark-skinned girl to see what she would do now that they were both free. Paulie started to skip forward, completely away from them. Jupiter figured.

As she passed by the twins, Paulie gave them a wink and told them the first inspirational thought that came to mind. “Knock ‘em dead!” Finally, she got to the Hare Hatter trio and looped her arms around the shoulders of Nadine and Stella, the latter tossing her off immediately.

*The Shed: Avery and Erika* They sighed.

“We knew it. They have no idea what to do with us.” Erika pouted.

“Once there stops being important stuff to do, we’ll undoubtedly get the typical million questions, which is fine.” Avery said, “But right now they would probably all rather have us out of the way.”

“I mean, it’s fine that they don’t know what we can do, but they could ask! Because heaven knows…” Erika trailed off.

“We can’t…” Avery tried to finish.

They two sighed harder, defeatedly saying in unison, “...Speak up ourselves.” *End*

“‘Eyo!!” Paulie greeted her anti-teammates, swinging off of Nadine. “Mind a bit more company?”

“You’re on the other team.” The tallest of the four stated, picking up one of Paulie’s fingers and moving it away.

“I knoooooow, doesn’t that suck ass!?! We got to take every opportunity to hang out with each other now!” Paulie pumped her fist. “Queens and hats and yadda yadda won’t stop ME from making friends, ha!”

Nadine opened her mouth to retort, but caught the sudden surge of positive energy from Marina and Stella, practically becoming two bright little suns. She pursed her lips silently instead.

“We love to make new friends! Stella, aren’t you a great friend?” Marina asked her sister, barely containing her excitement.

Stella lifted her fists over her head with a smile so wide it shut her eyes. “YEAH!”

“Ahhh…” Paulie vocalized a low shout. “You guys are jazzing me up, now. This is going to be great!” She peeked at Nadine’s smirk, and looped around her shoulder once more, whispering into the fabric over her ear, “I also didn’t want to hang out with Jenny Downer, y’know what I’m saying?”

“I get you.” Nadine reached for Paulie’s farthest shoulder and pushed her back onto her feet. “Now what were you saying Marina?”

“Oh, I was just letting you know that Stella-”

“YEAH!”

“-Was totally listening to us before. I know she wandered off, but to her, she doesn’t have to look focused in order to be paying attention. As long as she can hear you, she’s usually listening.”

“Not much for group huddles, then.” Nadine said warmly. “I’ll keep that in mind, not that I minded before.”

“Oh hey, I saw that!” Paulie piped in. “You guys looked super serious. Like, the most intense meeting for a bouquet I’ve ever seen.”

“We were actually talking about Rosie throwing a scene. It’s a pain already.” Nadine pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’s been acting hostile toward Cameron ever since she came back with the flowers.”

Paulie’s perkiness faltered, perspiration forming under the brim of her black bandana. “Th- that so? About not having all the- haha, yikes!”

*The Shed: Paulie* “My little sleight of hand wasn’t supposed to get anyone in trouble!” Paulie fretted. “Honest to godess I was just joshing! Now I feel like the world’s most bonafide douchebag. Give me my shithead degree! I deserve it!” *End* *III*

The albino cast member fidgeted. They tried to take note of their surroundings without annoying anyone else still around.

Their sibling was over at the Hatter’s table completely absorbed in the instruments at her disposal. Amelia was busy at theirs’. Paulie was just leaving their sight with three of the other team, and the conjoined twins had slipped off between blinks.

Jennifer had long since dragged Roger off to search higher into the island, and Jackson was retracing steps of their tour to find the double-headed rose. Jupiter sighed lightly, noticing the only person of the Queens that seemed to be idle, like them.

They cautiously approached Tony, who was leaning over some wildflowers. As soon as the shadow of their person crossed his sight, however, he shot his head up. He barely noticed Jupiter, saw that mostly everyone was gone, and made his way straight to the table. Jupiter only stuck around long enough to see Amelia look up at him. They rolled their shoulders, unsure, and made off in an unwandered direction alone.

#garden #garden chapters

[arcanaheadcanons]

Carmen Meets Muriel

over my vacation, when i wasn’t on the internet because the place i was at had very sketchy free internet that probably would have given my laptop an std, i wrote a li’l oneshot fic. it was one my ideas for a carmen comic but it would have taken too much effort to draw soooo it’s written now. idk what tumblr’s post limit is but i doubt i’ll go over it (seriously it’s less than 2k) so i’m gonna paste it under the cut and we’ll see what happens.

word count: 1899

description: muriel has to talk to carmen (character concept here) and he’s not very happy about it

The sun had disappeared under the horizon and darkness was washing the last orange stains from the sky when Muriel, cursing himself for even being there, approached the shop. He had one final errand left in the day, and it was crucial: he had run out of angelica. The herb, a thick stalk with umbels of little white flowers, was sometimes used for medicines and sometimes used in spells for protection. In Muriel’s case, it was a necessary component in the wards he had placed around the forest, which were in need of replacing. As angelica favored a colder climate than sunny Vesuvia, he had to rely on the magic shop’s supply. Asra was always more than happy to lend him a hand free of charge, but the magician was currently unconscious in a magic circle on Muriel’s floor while his spirit roamed the realm of the Arcana. Which meant that, if Muriel was going to an Asra-less shop, he would have to deal with…

…his apprentice.

Muriel winced as he heard a muffled, off-key sea shanty coming from the upper floor. To his knowledge, Carmen had never set foot on a boat. However, as she kept sneaking off to the south end of town ever since her incident, it made sense that she had picked up a thing or two from the local color; the “local color” being every seedy bar in the city. He knocked on the door and almost hoped she didn’t hear him. The singing stopped.

“Closed!” she half-shouted, her voice coming from the back of the shop this time. She must have moved closer to the stairs to allow the sound to carry.

It would have been so much easier for both of them if he could just leave – if he could go back home and let her think he was just another customer who hadn’t noticed the porch light was out. But he didn’t have the option. He imagined the wards he had placed breaking, Lucio’s ghost being allowed full strength, and Asra, unguarded, out cold in a hut in the middle of nowhere, and knocked on the door a second time.

“Ohhhhmygodddddddddddddddddd whyyyy.”

A string of irritated muttering started up and ended just as quickly as it was replaced by the sound of someone falling down a flight of stairs.

Muriel froze, concerned and unsure of what to do about that, but soon enough the door opened and Carmen, slightly frazzled, looked out into the space she typically expected a person’s face to be. That space was located squarely in the middle of his chest.

She slowly corrected her gaze to meet his, almost having to crane her neck to do so. “Well, damn,” she said. Muriel had seen her mouth those words during other chance meetings of theirs, but this was the first time she said them aloud. He didn’t like this. His face was getting hot. He had to explain himself, finish his errand, and leave as soon as possible.

“I’m–”

“Muriel, right?”

What.

Carmen opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Come on in. I’ll uh, make tea? Or something?”

What. Why. How. What was going on. Muriel entered the shop and watched as she sifted through the jars of herbs on the shelves in search of tea. He noticed as he looked away that the front of the shop was the only area that hadn’t gone to complete disarray. Everything from the base of the stairs to the back was covered in a mishmash of belongings. Trinkets and clothing were heaped into piles with no immediately apparent category, flanked by an unsettling amount of empty alcohol bottles.

“Sorry about the mess.” Carmen resurfaced from the shop’s stock with a short, squat jar full of the blooming tea that Asra made. “I was. Well. Y’know. Looking. Through stuff.” She began her quest to the stairs, carefully stepping around the stacks with amazing precision for someone who was having balance issues. “This is what happens when I’m left unsupervised. Be right back.”

As Carmen went to the upstairs kitchen and started a new batch of worrying clanking sounds that aren’t typically associated with the tea making process, Muriel wandered over to the jars and picked out the angelica. He counted out the necessary number of stalks, placed them in one of the pouches tied to his belts, and returned the jar to the shelf. He strongly considered leaving the shop then and there, but there was a question gnawing at his guts and it couldn’t be ignored, no matter how much he wanted to ignore it. While he waited for Carmen’s return, he busied himself with reorganizing the jars that she had disturbed.

Fifteen minutes later she came back down the stairs with a large soup mug filled with green tea and a larger bottle that, judging by the scent, contained brandy. As she gave to mug to Muriel, he noticed that she must have spent the extra time and effort looking for a cup that fit his hands. The emotional impact of her thoughtfulness was interrupted when she ripped the cork out of the brandy with her teeth, spat it into a corner, and took a deep swig.

Once she came up for air, he decided to confront what had been bothering him. “How do you know about me?”

She lowered the bottle and stared at him in mild confusion. “Was I… not supposed to?”

Muriel didn’t know what to say to that, but apparently the look on his face spoke for him.

“Oh. Oh, whoops. Sorry about that. I, uh…”

He continued to stay silent so that she could elaborate.

Carmen set the brandy on the shop counter and turned towards the piles. “The old me kept some notes on you,” she started. She reached out to one of the piles and a notebook shot into her hand. “Because of the whole Forget-Me thing. She made sure to jot something down every time you met before the spell kicked in.”

She offered the notebook to him, and he set down his yet-untouched tea to flip through it. It was a small, flimsy thing, and he had some difficulty picking the pages apart. Sure enough, there were several notes on his appearance and habits, the entries of which were no more than a few words long, and they were dated some years ago. Back when her hair was short, and her smile was wide, and wildflowers grew in her footsteps. When Carmen continued talking, he remembered the dull-eyed stranger she had become and snapped back to reality.

“So yeah, with hints like ‘about seven feet tall’ and ‘GREEN EYES’ written in capitals, it wasn’t too hard to recognize you,” she said. She studied him intently. “You know, I didn’t know what she meant by using capital letters, but I get it now. Your eyes are really green, like–” Stopping herself, Carmen winced and looked away, blinking hard as if she were trying to wake up from a dream. “Sorry. I’m losing my mental filter. What were you here for again? Asra’s out of town if you were looking for him.”

“I know,” Muriel said. He dug through his belongings until he found a pouch full of myrrh and tossed it to her.

“Oh! Um… thanks?” Carmen opened and closed the bag. “What is this for?”

“To ward off the spell.”

She looked even more confused than before. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to know about you?”

“You already do, and I don’t want to have this conversation again.” He turned to leave. At this point, he had far exceeded his limit on social activity. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Huh? But you didn’t even have any– aaaaand he’s gone.” Carmen’s words faded as he shut the door behind him.

 It was well into the night when Muriel returned home. The journey was long enough already, but the added detour he took to replace all the wards by the roadsides added a considerable amount of time. He would have to rest a little before replacing the rest of them. The hut was a welcome sight after the day’s adventure. Though cramped, it was a safe haven from the rest of the world; a place so deep in the woods that it was rarely stumbled upon by strangers. He examined his house’s ward – a bundle of sticks hanging from one of the great tree roots that engulfed the structure – and decided that it was strong enough to leave as it was. Then he opened the door.

Everything was exactly as he had left it. The runes in the magic circle on the floor were thankfully undisturbed, and Asra was still sleeping at its center under a thick blanket, which Muriel had given him when he had to extinguish the hearth on his way out. In the corner, Inanna stirred from her makeshift bed and trotted over to him.

“I’m home,” he said redundantly.

The wolf acknowledged this by placing her head firmly under his hand for scratches. Muriel gave her a standard head-pat and asked her to wait while he restarted the fire in the hearth. When he returned, he pulled up a chair and complied with her request. With his free hand, he began removing pouches from his belts and putting them on the table with the intention of reequipping the ones he’d need before he next left the hut. His task was stopped when he took a pouch he couldn’t recall the contents of and Inanna abruptly leaned out of his grasp to smell it.

Curious, Muriel opened the pouch and pulled out the little notebook that Carmen had handed him earlier that day. He must have absent-mindedly pocketed it. He had no idea when, how, or even if he’d be able to return it. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to. It was bad to take someone else’s property, but now that Carmen had some myrrh, she wouldn’t need to read about him to know who he was. He idly opened it to a page somewhere in the middle.

“Doesn’t like to talk. – May 11”

“Shame, he has a nice voice. – May 27”

“Wears a big tattered cloak with a hood. – June 9”

“Likes snow. – July 30”

“WHY DID NONE OF YOU WARN ME HE’S SO HANDSOME – November 3”

Face burning, he closed the book. Inanna, sensing that he was done with it, moved closer and gently took the notebook in her teeth. He released his grip and she retreated to her bed with it.

“You miss her, huh?”

Inanna nibbled on the notebook a little before putting her head down and sighing gruffly.

Muriel looked at Asra and watched his chest rise and fall to confirm that he was still breathing normally. The magician and he had been closer than siblings ever since they were young, and Muriel could feel the emotional weight of the past three years on his shoulders. Even though Asra raised her from the dead, Carmen – their Carmen – would never come back. It had been a bittersweet victory, embittered even further when they realized how truly unhappy she was without her memory. Tonight was not the first time that Muriel had found her seeking refuge from the bottom of a bottle, and it wouldn’t be the last.

When Inanna turned her attention back to the notebook, so did Muriel.

“Yeah… we miss her too.”

#the arcana #fan apprentice #apprentice carmen #muriel #fanfic #my posts

[x5red]

Sixty fun & fascinating facts about the classic Supergirl (4 / 4)

At last, the final fifteen fun facts in a series to mark the sixtieth anniversary of Kara Zor-El��s debut in DC Comics. This is the last batch of Supergirl info-nuggets, bringing the trivia total up to sixty, one for each year since her introduction.

As before, each snippet of data relates to the original Supergirl, the intrepid Argo City teen who leapt from that crumpled Midvale rocket ship. Covering her original Silver and Bronze Age incarnation, in comics and on screen, each factoid is calculated to intrigue and delight – hopefully even seasoned Kara fans will find a few morsels of trivia that had previously escaped their attention.

So, one last time: enjoy…

46. At one point she was blacklisted from being mentioned in DC publications.

In 1985 to mark its 50th comicbook publishing anniversary DC Comics launched a mini-series, Crisis on Infinite Earths, that sought to rejig its entire fictional universe to better address the new, more mature, direct sales audience. Childish elements were removed and iconic characters rebooted. Superman was to be recast as the only survivor of Krypton, meaning Supergirl not only had to die but be erased from all past events too. DC, however, decided that erasing Kara from fictional history was simple not cruel enough -- in a move straight out of a George Orwell novel DC airbrushed her from in-real-life history too.

Supergirl became she who shall not be named, seemingly banned from being mentioned, even in the editorial pages. When DC couldn’t avoid using her name, as happened in Secret Origins #42 (July 1989) when discussing Phantom Girl’s first appearance, they masked it with asterisks like an expletive -- ”S*P*RG*RL”. DC even went as far as to exclude Kara from a bio of writer Paul Kupperberg in the pages of Power Girl #2 (July 1988), despite Kupperberg‘s long tenure as Supergirl’s chief writer, and Power Girl being a parallel-universe re-imagining of Kara. Yet the Maid of Might remained popular with at least some DC staffers, as Alan Brennert proved when Kara made a highly unauthorised crafty cameo in his Deadman story inside Christmas with the Super-Heroes #2 (1989) -- Brennert only avoided censorship thanks to DC editor-in-chief Dick Giordano volunteering himself to do the story’s artwork.

47. Prior to her role as Supergirl, Helen Slater had struggled with eating disorders.

In an obscure 1988 interview for UK tv with psychologist Oliver James, Helen Slater talked frankly about how winning the role of Supergirl helped in her ongoing battle with Anorexia and Bulimia. Asked about the cause of the conditions, “Control was one part of it”, Slater admitted, adding, “I think Bulimia especially, which I did suffer from from 13 [...] is a lot to do with not having a safe space to express anger.” She went on to credit her Supergirl fitness trainer, Alf Joint (“the most beautiful man in the world”) with overcoming some of her fears around food by using Chocolate Brazils (chocolate dipped nuts) as positive reinforcement after a hard training session.

48. She celebrated her 75th birthday in 2018.

It is generally accepted that Kara Zor-El’s birthday, when using the Gregorian calendar on Earth, is 22nd September. That date comes from a reply to a reader’s letter published in Adventure Comics #389 (Feb 1970), but said reply didn’t give the year of Kara’s birth, meaning readers couldn’t work out Kara’s age. (“One should never trust a woman who tells one her real age”, wrote Oscar Wilde, ”A woman who would do that would tell anything.”) Fortunately a little bit of detective work means that fans can work it out. A story in Action Comics #305 (Oct 1963) gives the date of Kara’s arrival on Earth as 18th May 1959, and both the Daring New Adventures of Supergirl #1 (Nov 1982) and Action Comics #270 (Nov 1960) suggest that Kara was 15 years old when she landed. This means that she was born in 1943. So, as of her most recent birthday at the time of writing (22nd September 2018), she would require 75 candles on her birthday cake. Good thing she has Kryptonian super-lungs..!

49. Her nickname was Hot Dog.

Every fan knows that Kara Zor-El is Supergirl, and that Supergirl is Linda Lee Danvers, but how many fans know that Linda Lee Danvers was also... “Hot Dog”..?!?!!

Yup, that was her name when she was dating Philip Decker, music conductor and part-time lecturer at Lake Shore University, Chicago. The pair’s romance had blossomed in the pages of Supergirl Vol. 2 thanks to a shared love of Jazz music, and they spent an increasing amount of time together in each other’s apartments. It was during one such session of intense snuggling that Philip let slip his nickname for Linda: “Hot Dog”, a name what was met with uncontrollable giggles from Linda.

50. Her makeup bag hid a couple of super secrets.

Of course, if you’re one of the world’s greatest superheroes it is important to look your best when saving the world, but Kara’s beauty kit not only helped keep her looking immaculate while fighting injustice, but also concealed a couple of tricks to keep her dual identity a secret too. In Action Comics #270 (Nov 1960) Kara celebrated her sixteenth birthday. Her gift from the Man of Steel was an innocent looking lipstick which, in reality, hid a secret compartment to stash her super-compressed costume. “If you ever have to conceal your costume quickly, or remove it to go swimming...”, explains Superman (perhaps anticipating other activities that a young woman might get up to that could require stripping off clothing.)

Years later, in Supergirl Vol. 2 #17 (Mar 1984), Kara added more secrets to her makeup bag when she finally decided to ditch her brunette Linda Danvers wig. She still needed a way to switch from Supergirl’s flowing blonde locks to Linda’s brunette bob, of course, and the alternative she devised was a special energized comb that reacted with colour-sensitive molecules to instantly transform her hair’s style and colour. Clever stuff..!

51. She and Brainiac 5 weren’t really an item.

Despite now being firmly romantically linked in the eyes of many comic fans, Brainiac 5 and Supergirl’s relationship only really became serious during the 1990s Earth Angel era. Back in the Silver Age, when the pair first met in Action Comics #276 (Apr 1961), Kara was initially weary of Brainy, recognising his family resemblance to Superman’s arch foe. Her attitude softened, however, as the story unfolded, even calling him “sweet” by its close. As the years rolled by Brainy is clearly smitten by Kara, but she rarely reciprocated his affections. Finally, in Legion of Super-Heroes Vol. 2 #294 (Dec 1982), Brainy brings matters to a close: “You remember that crush I had on you? [...] I think I’ve finally worked it out of my system.”. In response Kara teases, “Really? What a shame. Here I was, starting to think how cute you were.” (Needless to say, Brainy is left dumbfounded as Kara promptly flies off.)

Kara dated numerous men during the Silver and Bronze Age, including long-term relationships with Dick Malverne and Philip Decker, but these were generally in her Linda Danvers identity. Brainy is the closest thing “Supergirl” came to a boyfriend -- perhaps that’s why some fans like to focus more on him rather than Linda’s beaus.

52. She was a fan of The Bionic Woman.

One of the problems of being a superhero is that your evenings are often taken up saving the world, leaving little time to catch up with popular tv shows. But on her odd evenings off-duty, what was likely to be on the Maid of Might’s tv screen? Unsurprisingly, Kara seems to have been a fan of superheroine shows, as demonstrated by comments in Superman Family #184 (July 1977) while she was battling an unnaturally fierce electrical storm in the skies over Santa Augusta. “Great way to spend an evening out”, complains a frustrated Girl of Steel, “If this storm doesn’t let up, I’ll miss ‘The Bionic Woman--!’”

53. She was a big fan of seat belts and personal computers, apparently.

Being a superhero doesn’t pay very much, if anything at all. That’s why DC Comics always liked to line up product endorsements for its big stars, and the Girl of Steel was no exception. Supergirl’s first apparent appearance in adverts (outside of selling DC’s own magazines) was in a late 70s commercial for kid’s underwear, but pretty soon DC had secured more prestigious work for Kara when in 1981 they had her extol the virtues of Tandy’s new line of 8 bit micro computers. More important work came in the mid-80s, when Kara teamed up with Honda and the US Department of Transportation to promote the adoption of car seat belts. The Maid of Might appeared in two full-length give-away comics (and on-screen Helen Slater even appeared as Supergirl in a tv advert.) Kara was so committed to the cause of road safety that she even did the second give-away comic after her death in Crisis on Infinite Earths -- now that’s dedication for you..!

54. Only one woman worked on her comic-strip during the entire Silver and Bronze age.

It is a sad reflection of the industry in the 60s and 70s that if one totals up all the writers, artists, and editors, who worked on the Supergirl strip during the Silver and Bronze Age, there’s only one female name on the list: Dorothy Woolfolk. Editor for Supergirl Vol. 1 #1 (Nov 1972) only -- yup, a single issue -- Dorothy launched the Girl of Steel into her first self-titled comicbook before giving way to industry veteran Robert Kanigher for issue #2. Allegedly a larger-than-life figure, Dorothy was a rare example of DC allowing a woman to work outside of the romance genre during the Golden and Silver Age; she is even credited by some with suggesting the idea of Kryptonite to Superman writer Jerry Siegel.

(Away from Supergirl’s own strip, two other women briefly worked as editors on comics featuring the Girl of Steel in a guest capacity. Karen Berger and Laurie Sutton both edited 1980s Legion of Super-Heroes issues containing Kara cameos.)

55. Her most iconic costume contained a pair of clocks.

The problem with slinky skin-tight superhero costumes is that they don’t leave much room for the practical necessities of life... like pockets... or watches. But that never stopped the Girl of Steel from sneaking a few hidden practical elements into her outfits. Most fans know that the inner lining of her cape hides a secret pocket (where she stashes her everyday clothes when out superhero-ing), but how many fans realised that the three discs aligned over each hip on her iconic 70s hot pants outfit actually acted as a pair of clocks? According to Krypton Chronicles #2 (Oct 1981), by placing three fingers on the discs over her right hip Kara is telepathically informed of the time in New York (her then home), while the same action on her left hip reports the time in Kandor (Krypton’s capital, famously miniaturised in a bottle by Brainiac.)

56. The USA was actually one of the last countries to see the Supergirl movie.

The Girl of Steel may have been able to zip around the world in an instant, but apparently her movie couldn’t. After opening on Thursday 19th July 1984 in the United Kingdom, then days later in Ireland and Japan, the movie slowly made its way around the world, opening in the Philippines, Australia, and Spain during August, and then France and Canada during October. By mid-November, however, American audiences were yet to see the Maid of Might grace cinema screens.

The delay was caused by Warner Bros. withdrawing from its US distribution deal near the end of production, causing producers to scramble for a replacement. Eventually, on Wednesday 21st November -- over four months after the UK debut -- the Supergirl movie hit US cinema theatres thanks to fledgling distributor TriStar Pictures, but with almost 20 minutes of material chopped out. It wasn’t until 1998 that the full international cut was legitimately available in the US thanks to an Anchor Bay VHS video release.

57. She was Wonder Woman’s sister.

Incredible as it may seem, for a brief period Supergirl was Wonder Woman’s sister. The incident happened in Supergirl Vol. 1 #9 (Dec 1973) after Kara finally had enough of being two-timed by boyfriends as Linda Danvers, and hit upon by men as Supergirl. When Kara bravely rescues an Amazon warrior ship under attack by fierce sea creatures, Queen Hippolyta offers to adopt her as a daughter, making Kara the sister of Princess Diana (aka Wonder Woman.) Realising that the Amazon’s island home is free of men, Kara accepts, but a medical emergency forces her back out into the Man’s World to seek the ingredients for a serum. With the emergency over, Kara considers that maybe she was too hasty in turning her back on all men, and leaves her new Amazon home to give them a second chance.

58. She valued her privacy.

When you have as many extraordinary abilities as the Girl of Steel, the usual fears and phobias just don’t apply. Why be afraid of heights when you can fly? Why be afraid of snakes when your skin is not only fang proof, but bullet proof? But Daring New Adventures of Supergirl #4 (Feb 1983) revealed that there’s one thing guaranteed to make Kara Zor-El flee in terror -- fear of having her everyday identity exposed. The issue sees Kara hypnotised into seeing her greatest fear by the villain Ms. Mesmer: as a result Supergirl continually sees her Linda Danvers identity reflected back at her in windows and mirrors. Convinced that everyone can see through her disguise, Kara seeks solace with her adopted parents. It is only thanks to the calming influence of her mother, Edna Danvers, that Kara has the courage to go back out onto the streets as Supergirl to defeat Ms. Mesmer.

59. Her first kiss was with a very hirsute Jimmy Olsen.

The opening season of the Supergirl tv show teased a possible romance between Kara and James Olsen, and in some ways this echos very early Supergirl stories where the pair were occasionally seen as a potential love-match. Indeed Jimmy Olsen was actually Kara’s first kiss, although the event came about in a highly unorthodox way. The pages of Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen #44 (Apr 1960) saw Jimmy transformed into a werewolf, and Superman reasons that the curse can only be lifted by the kiss of a young girl. In steps a fifteen year old Kara Zor-El, who gives the cub reporter a delicate peck on the lips, reversing the spell. A year later Jimmy managed to turn himself into a werewolf for a second time(!) in Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen #52 (Apr 1961), but Kara’s kiss proved ineffective that time.

60. She didn’t entirely die in Crisis on Infinite Earths.

Obviously it is a matter of record that the original Kara Zor-El gave up her life in Crisis on Infinite Earths #7 (Oct 1985) – at least until DC later saw fit to retcon that particular story line – but in their attempts to erase the Maid of Might from existence, DC had forgotten about a rather inconvenient story published just a year before, in Supergirl Vol. 2 #19 (May 1984).

The tale dealt with a Supergirl clone who had assumed the identity of Linda Danvers. The clone had no super powers, but she did have all of Kara’s memories and personality. The story ends with a twist: rather than take the easy way out by having clone-Kara conveniently fall under the wheels of a speeding bus, writer Paul Kupperberg has the two Kara’s work out a deal. ”It’s a big world out there… with plenty of room for two people with this face!“, explains Supergirl, “We can find a place for you… a name of your own…” And with that the two Karas go their separate ways, meaning that although superpowered-Kara may have surrendered her life in Crisis, powerless-Kara (her clone) presumably continued to live out a regular life anonymously somewhere in America.

And that’s it -- all sixty..! Thanks for reading, Hope you enjoyed the series and learned at least a few snippets of trivia along the way that you found amusing or thought-provoking.

Don’t forget to come back in 2048, when it will be time to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the Matrix Supergirl... Or maybe not..!

#supergirl #superhero #superman #dc #comics #superheroine #dccomics #silver age #bronze age #comicbooks #lex luthor