Notice! I now have a writeblr, @asmileyoucouldbottle so please go follow that! I will be posting my fanfics there first, and it’s my official writing acc :)
ao3 ~ wattpad ~ writeblr
I thought it was about time I made a masterlist! I do take requests (kinda,) if you have a particular ship or scene you would like you can ask, and if I’m inspired I’ll write it! (Marissa Meyer, Alice by Heart, and Hunger games are currently most likely to get written, but it depends on my mood. Enjoy :)
@winterrhayle THIS IS SO LATE I’M SORRY ELLIE ILY <3 for the smgh gift exchange!
word count: 2137
cress asks her (very cute) apartment neighbor to help her catch a spider, while struggling with infatuation.
- <3 -
“Um… hello?”
The confused face of Cress’ next apartment neighbor searched her own, and Cress wondered if it was too late to back out. They’d made eye contact exactly once before, when they’d gotten in the elevator together. The girl had returned her smile, so Cress figured she was nice enough.
A singular smile was probably not the best basis for asking a favor of someone at 7am. Especially this kind of favor. And talking to strangers was very high up on the list of “things Cress hates.”
It was definitely too early for this.
Then the sight of the spider that had crawled across her keyboard filled her mind and she shuddered in her slippers.
“Erm… hi.” Cress wound her hand in her hair, very aware that it was early and she’d probably just woken this girl up. However, as she looked her neighbor up and down, Cress realized that she looked very much awake- with a smudge of grease over her eye and hands covered in work gloves.
She also realized that grease, googles, and all, her neighbor was pretty.
Talking to strangers was one, very stressful, thing, but pretty strangers she was attracted to? Abort, abort.
“Come in?” Cress was grateful as the stranger pushed the door open, despite the fact that she hadn’t managed to come up with anything to say. Cress shuffled in, her overlong t-shirt she’d slept in brushing her knees. Despite the grease stained work tank top her neighbor was wearing, she still had sleep shorts on, which made Cress feel a little better about being in her pjs.
Cress cleared her throat awkwardly, her hands straying to braid her hair subconsciously. “I’m Cress, and I live next door?”
Great initiative! You sounded like you were asking her a question!
“Cinder.” The girl- Cinder- introduced herself hesitantly. “Nice to meet you?”
“Can you help me get rid of a spider?” Cress blurted, hands in her hair coming to a standstill.
Cinder looked slightly taken aback, but bemused. “Sure?”
Cress breathed an internal sigh of relief. Thank God. She isn’t even looking at me like I’m weird.
“I was finishing an assignment when a huge one went across my keyboard, and it was, like, three inches long. Well maybe not that big, but you get the point. I hate spiders… ” She realized she was starting to ramble and flushed, strangling her hands in her hair. “I’m sorry to bother you, especially in the morning.” She emphasised.
Cinder shrugged. “It’s no problem, I was up early working on an assignment anyways.”
The assurance gave Cress barely any relief. “I can offer you food?” She added, hoping to smooth over the fact that she existed.
Cinder laughed, and the slight tension in the room was released. “In that case, I’m sold.”
Cress peered over Cinder's shoulder, and caught sight of a workbench pushed against the corner of the room. Perched on the edge was what looked like…
“A bot?” Cress loved coding AI tech, and was actually majoring in computer science.
“Yeah, I’m a mechanic, well technically an engineer, but I do some other personal projects on the side.”
“That’s so cool!” Cress felt her grip loosen from it’s anxious hold. “I’m a coder, and AI tech is some of my favorite.”
“Really? I have a bot named Iko, and she’s been mentioning something about color changing eyes? While she loves my physical additions and such, I’m sure she’d appreciate some technological improvements.”
Cress beamed. “Wow, a personal bot? I’d love to check her out sometime!”
“That would be great.” Cinder held her gaze for half a second, before they both looked away. It might’ve been Cress’ ever overactive imagination, but she could’ve sworn she felt sparks. Then again, that happened every time her useless lesbian self made eye contact with a pretty girl, but still.
What is this, a rom-com?
Cinder cleared her throat, before leading them to the door. “Show the way?”
Cress leapt at the opportunity immediately, leading them to her apartment. Cress pushed open the door, forcing herself not to jump away as soon as it opened a crack.
“I’ll go first.” Cinder must’ve noticed her anxiety, and she gave her a comforting smile that both soothed Cress’ heart and made it beat more erratically.
Taking a steadying breath, Cress followed Cinder in, leaving the door open in case she needed to make a quick exit.
Cinder grabbed a glass from the counter, which also made Cress feel lighter. Setting spiders free was better than killing them, even if they were spiders the size of her thumb.
“By your laptop right?” Cinder gestured to the work table, and Cress nodded with a nervous gulp.
A leg crawled up and over the desk and Cress jumped, clinging to Cinder. The tan girl sagged under the sudden weight, one arm coming up to support her from underneath.
The sudden touch made Cress freeze. She realized her arms were wrapped around Cinder’s neck, and she was clinging rather tightly. I just quite literally jumped into a super cute stranger’s arms. Stars help me.
Cress considered hopping down, when the spider ran across the floor by Cinder’s feet. She squeaked, and clung tighter. She vaguely thought of how awkward this must be to Cinder, but there no fucking way she was touching the same ground the spider was on.
Also, Cinder was remarkably buff and did not seem to be struggling at all.
Must be all the mechanic work? Cress thought with a slight flush.
Stop thinking about a girl’s muscles! We’re in the middle of a crisis here!
Cinder scuffed her foot, and the spider raced back up to the table. Cress winced, and watched through partially closed eyes in awe as with her free hand, Cinder dropped the cup upturned on the spider.
“I got it!” Cinder’s voice was right besides her ear, and Cress widened her eyes. The spider was indeed secure in the glass, and Cinder’s hair was in her eye.
With a blush, she fully realized her position once more. Her heart sped even faster than before, which she didn’t know was possible. Cinder smelled of car grase and faintly cinnamon. A combination that was shockingly attractive. The thought made her flush even deeper, as was the fact that her bare legs were gripping a small strip of the neighbor’s midsection where her shirt had ridden up.
“Ahaha,” Cress laughed awkwardly, doing a weird shoulder pat thingy. “Thank you.” Is this flirting?
Cinder tilted her head to look at Cress, and from their position, the movement made their faces remarkably close. With yet another squeak, Cress dropped to the ground so fast she stumbled.
“You’re welcome.” Cinder’s voice was bemused as she bit her lip in an attempt not to smile. It was distracting, but soon Cress was giggling. Cinder joined her, and all her anxiety melted.
“Alright, there’s still Part 2.” Cinder cautioned, gesturing to the spider. Cress considered it.
“We can drop it in the flowersill.” Cress suggested, gesturing to the window.
“Flowersill?” Cinder repeated.
“Oh.” Cress flushed a tiny bit in embarrassment again. “I don’t exactly know the word for it but like, those cute little flower beds that attach to windows?”
Cinder shrugged with a smile. “Works for me.”
After poking around a bit, Cress came back with a piece of paper. Cinder bit back a smile again, and Cress found her gaze pulled to her lips. “This part might get a little scary, if you need to hop in my arms again.” She said it wryly, teasingly, but Cress suppressed the urge to bury her head in her hands and disappear forever.
Rather than jumping into Cinder’s arms again, she settled for hopping on the counter and keeping all parts of her body away from the table and floor. From her new perch, Cress watched as Cinder slid the paper under and brought the spider to the window to release it.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Cress gave Cinder a wide smile when she turned back to her. Cinder smiled back, and her eyes crinkled. Cress’ heart fluttered again.
“So… grease huh?” Cress realized what a weird conversation starter that was and blushed as Cinder raised an eyebrow.
“Huh?”
“Well- you smelled like it and there was some above your eyes and well-” Cress stuttered to a rambling stop because she really didn’t know how to explain why she said that. She didn’t know why she said that.
“Oh.” It was Cinder’s turn to blush as she scrubbed at her eye. The grease stubbornly remained, and Cinder’s nose was wrinkling with concentration through the effort. Cress tried to repress a smile, but it was impossible.
“Here, let me help.” Reaching to the side, she picked up a cloth off the counter. Running it under water until it was damp, Cress gestured Cinder forward. Hesitantly, her neighbor stepped towards her, and Cress lifted the cloth. Carefully, she brushed away a few strands of hair, and Cinder’s breath hitched a bit. Cress thought hers did too. She gently rubbed at the grease, and with the soap on the cloth, it came off of Cinder’s reddening face with little effort.
“Maybe we should try a collab sometime?” Cinder seemed to almost blurt it, catching Cress by such surprise she almost dropped the cloth. The moment had felt like a pause, and the disruption startled her. The girl had seemed so calm and collected, but the chink in the armor was just as nervous as Cress.
Despite her initial surprise, she glowed at the suggestion to spend more time getting to know her cute next door neighbor, and resisted jumping off the counter and spinning.
“That would be amazing.” Cress hopped a bit in excitement, and Cinder gave her a fond smile.
“Do you want to stay for breakfast?” Cress wasn’t sure what compelled her to ask, and she buried her hands back in her brown tangle of hair.
“Oh!” Cinder seemed pleasantly surprised, and Cress beamed. “That would be great!”
“How do pancakes sound?” Cress crossed to the fridge, practically buzzing with excitement as Cinder followed right behind her.
“Amazing. And can I help?” Cinder was right at her shoulder and Cress nodded, uncertain if she could find coherent words as she got out the supplies for pancakes.
Cinder grabbed a bowl that was, unbeknownst to her, filled with pancake powder. Her face lifted in shock as it poofed out of the bowl, covering her features in a layer of powder. Their laughs mingled as they poured water into the mix, and Cress felt lighter than she had in weeks. Cinder took to sitting while Cress heated the stove and got the eggs going. Occasionally, she would sneak a look over at powder-covered Cinder and grin to herself. One time she almost burnt the eggs as she got distracted.
"Here." Taking a dishrag from the stove handle, Cress swiped it quickly around Cinder's face - considering - a little too late that she just should've just given the rag to her. Two times in one day!
Cinder coughed a bit, her hands going to fiddle with the ends of her sleeves as she leaned back on her heels, pink in the cheeks.
"Thanks." She managed. Cress smiled, plating the eggs and getting ready to start cooking the pancakes.
After a few minutes, they had settled into a steady conversation about their studies and work. Cress filled with excitement as they discussed plans to build a robot that could make them ice cream. It had started as a joke, but the more they talked about it, the more realistic the idea became.
"I would make sure it has strawberry for myself." Cress was saying. "What about you."
"Butter pecan." Cinder responded immediately.
"Oooh, good choice. French vanilla would be my second."
"Me too!" Cinder replied. "Nothing wrong with a classic."
"Agreed!"
The more they conversed, the more Cress was enamored with Cinder's wit and sharp mind. She'd always been a romantic, falling in love quickly. But she'd learned her lesson in the past, and was happy to bide her time and truly get to know Cinder.
A timer on her phone rang, and Cress jumped.
"My first class is in 15 minutes."
"Oh!" Cinder stood up as well. "Yeah.. here's my number." She scribbled it on a napkin. Cress grinned as she wrote hers on another napkin.
Handing it off to Cinder, their fingers brushed. It was far from the first contact they’d had this morning, but it filled Cress with a feeling of hope nonetheless.
Cinder tipped her head, giving Cress a simultaneously sweet and wry smile. “Call me if you see any more spiders.”
Cress laughed, waving at Cinder on her way out. “Will do.”
She knew that spiders weren’t the only thing she’d be calling about.
i’m sorry i haven’t been keeping this page as updated my recent stuff, but please check out my ao3!!! there are a handful of things i haven’t posted here on there <3
takes place in season 4. someone finds a bottle of champagne while going through shadow weaver's old stuff, and catra and double trouble are talking while drinking. catra begins to realize that maybe she was the one who left adora, and not the other way around.
lots of angsty internal monologue, sweet yet haunting flashbacks, and heart-breaking realizations.
(based on champagne problems by taylor swift)
***
“Double Trouble, do you ever think about what we’re doing?” Catra looked down, regret clinging to her like shadows. She tipped her glass, staring down into the carmel liquid. Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio had just found a bottle of champagne while digging through Shadow Weaver's old stuff. One of the other cadets had gotten together enough glasses for all of them- a celebration of “how far they’d come.”
There was nothing to celebrate though. Everyone was constantly so happy and proud of themselves, and of their success so far. Sure, they’d won a few battles, but what were a couple cities and an edge? Etheria still stood. Adora still stood.
Catra wouldn’t rest as long as she did.
And yet…
“What are you referring to in this instance?” Double Trouble lifted their own glass, curiosity sketching their features.
What was that old saying? Curiosity killed the cat.
Double Trouble wasn’t exactly the trustworthy type after all, her position was so precarious… and they knew too much. Who knew what they could do with more information to hold?
She took another sip, and the bubbling liquid burned her throat. People seemed to rave about the taste, but she noticed nothing but the slight warm sensation. Catra didn’t taste much of anything these days.
Adora’s expression while Catra cut the vines on the simulation cliff flashed in her vision. Her shock- the widened eyes and parted lips. Lips that had moments before mused about how she’d missed Catra. Her hands desperately gripping the vine… the same hands that had extended in offering.
“Catra, help me, please…”
“She left me.” Catra declared out loud. The words were empty. A half-truth, a story with only one side.
“I never wanted to leave you… you could come with me!”
A growl tore itself from her throat, slamming the glass down.
“She left me.” Catra repeated with more force. “If she never wanted to leave me, then she wouldn’t have.”
“Who are we talking about again?” Something in Double Trouble’s expression made Catra suspect they knew the answer already as they lazily tilted their head.
She bristled at the apparent indifference, but her words were low and pained as she whispered, “Adora.”
A long sip.
“She told me to cover for her, she’d be right back.” Catra intended the words to be sharp, just the way they felt in her heart. To be cruel. She was over Adora after all, and far better than she was with her. She’d worked so hard to be better than her. To prove she didn’t need her.
But they came out aching.
“She didn’t come back.” The last thing Catra expected was the clog of tears, which she took as a challenge. Taking a harsh swallow, she willed the liquid to clear her throat before she continued.
“She was gone one day, and she had a new life. New friends.” It was like I didn’t even exist. Even after everything they’d done together, all their life they’d lived.
“It was like you meant nothing to her.” Double Trouble’s words were a direct hit, and Catra physically flinched.
Adora had been everything to her.
When the only thing that matters to you leaves, what’s left?
And if you didn’t matter to anyone, then what are you?
She’d thought she mattered to Adora. They were a team, them against the world. Until suddenly, the team had become a party of one. Adora had new friends- a new team.
Sorry, squad.
Adora, or at least She-Ra, mattered to everyone. But without Adora, Catra mattered to no one.
Thus, Catra had to make herself matter. Become important.
“Like I meant nothing to her.”
Double Trouble leaned forward, resting their chin on their palm. “And that’s why you’re fighting the Rebellion? Because Adora’s there?”
“No.” Catra spat, the implications that Catra only existed for Adora making her prickle. She’d worked so hard to make her own place- without Adora’s shadow. Adora couldn’t take this from her too. “It’s complicated, okay?”
Shadow Weaver, raising the same hand that caressed Adora to strike Catra, came to her mind. Fighting a tremble, Catra steadied her hands against the glass as she took another long sip. An ache was settling in her with each bit of champagne, though she doubted it had much to do with the drink itself. She actually wished the drink was stronger, but she didn’t know if she could bear walking in Shadow Weaver’s chamber again to dig around.
Then Scorpia, whose kindness Catra had scorned, but only now realized how much she had relied on as she continued to put her down. She left her too.
Entrapta, who had been nothing but supportive and helpful, but had betrayed her for the princesses. A betrayal that Catra had given back in a much more painful way than it was received.
Adora again, her horror as Catra dropped off the cliff at the Princess Prom. And as she had let go and fallen into the portal, knowing that it would cause Adora pain. Every look and word that proved, despite Catra’s best efforts, Adora had still cared for her.
But then, her glare as she walked out of the portal, which still felt like a dagger stuck in Catra’s heart. Behind the anger, Catra had seen a reflection of something in her own eyes.
Hardened and hatred filled as they were, she saw it. Broken.
Catra hadn’t realized how much she’d clung to Adora’s continued care until it was gone.
“Come with me. You don’t have to go back there. We can fix this.”
“She asked me to come with her.” Catra blurted, staring as if trying to burn a hole in her glass.
Double Trouble’s eyebrows peaked in interest. “Go on.”
“I didn’t think she meant it, okay? When you flake on someone like that, it seems like too little too late.” She was getting worked up, her tail bristling as familiar anger joined the helpless sadness.
“Come with me.”
Double Trouble’s unimpressed look humbled her and she sat back down, tail still drawing distressed motions. “But I wonder… what if it wasn’t.”
“Well, Kitten, she does seem awfully obsessed with you.”
“What did you say?” she demanded, unsure if the increase in speed of her heart was from fear or excitement of what she might hear.
“Catra this, Catra that.” They titled their head. “A lot like you, come to think of it.”
Catra growled, claws gripping the table in warning.
“One would almost think she misses you, but that would be ridiculous, considering all you’ve told me.” The shapeshifter’s gaze held hers, a challenge. A small sliver of hope slipped through her crack, followed by a montage of memories.
Suddenly she was a child again, holding Adora’s hand as they admired beetles in the dirt of the Fright Zone and collected ants to put under Kyle’s covers. Playing pranks on the older recruits, which more often than not would end in a scuffle. Even when Catra picked pointless fights with force captains three times her size, Adora had her back. They would get matching black eyes, boasting and bickering over who had the better blue-black hues and comparing sizes.
When Adora had gotten her first red jacket on her thirteenth birthday, Catra had immediately grabbed her hand and demanded permission to “make it cooler.” She’d been denied, but spent weeks persuading Adora to let her rip it up. Finally, Adora had conceded to a “little personalization,” but only after Catra pointed out they’d be matching- the little rips in her pants and on the sleeves of Adora’s jacket.
Training, where Catra first learned, after gossiping with other and older cadets, what it meant to want to kiss someone. Their faces had come almost to touching in a sparring match while they were grappling for a staff, hands clasped over each other. Adora was bright with the challenge, lips pursed and brows drawn in concentration around the gray-blue eyes Catra knew better than her own. A flush from the exertion was tinged on Adora’s cheeks, and as she gave Catra a small and secret smile despite their competing, she felt her heart flutter. Her grip went weak as Catra became overcome with the intense urge to lean forward just a tiny bit, to be even closer.
Their comfortable peace sitting together on the ramparts, whether it was in silence or rambling about everything under the sun. One day, only weeks before the attack on Thaymor, Catra had found a booklet in some box while on trash duty. “The Works of Shakespeare.” They’d spent an hour going through the old stories and laughing as they reenacted the plays, dramatically fainting and faking stabbing-death-by-stick all over the place. Their searching hands had found each other as they pretended to reach, outstretched on separate balconies.
Come with me. The attack on Thaymore. Her hand once more in Catra’s, just like always. This time, Catra had pulled away, leaving a crack behind for the first time.
Princess Prom, Adora had tried to hold onto her again, but once more, Catra let go.
Then the She-Ra temple and the cliff. Adora had done nothing but tried to protect her, but as they’d raced through the halls, fingers entwined, bitterness welled up in Catra anyways. Another drop of the hand, another crack left behind.
Every battle they’d had that Catra had swung true but Adora had merely deflected was a hairline, a small break that amassed over time.
Perhaps… she had been the one to really leave Adora.
The realization shocked Catra, a rupture deep in her bones.
No.
No.
Adora had left her. The champagne was making her head foggy. She wasn’t thinking clearly.
But…
Catra slammed her cup down. Changing her mind, she brought it to her lips, knocking it back before standing abruptly.
“I have more important things to do than celebrate and chatter.”
Double Trouble barely looked fazed, and Catra guessed that emotional outbursts were to be expected around her. She was a bomb always ready to go off, to be treated with caution.
The entire room quieted- she hadn’t noticed that there was a buzz around her until it was replaced with tense silence. She looked out over the other Horde members, who had frozen, some with drinks halfway to their lips. Her eyes met Lonnie’s, then Kyle’s, and Rogelio’s. Lonnie looked at her, something bordering on accusation behind the slight fear.
They were a team, right? Teammates were evergreen.
She saw them laughing in the halls without her, a new bond bright and strong between the three of them. Even Kyle, who had always been the odd one out, was right in the midst of them.
And Catra was on the outside.
But as she looked between the stunned and scared faces of the three of them… she realized that she was the one who broke that too.
Fuck it.
Not waiting for any sort of signal or response, she stalked out the door.
Catra meant to walk right out and to her dormitory, but she couldn’t bear to see any other faces and what they might be thinking of her behind her back. So she paused beside the door, burying her head in her hands, trying to still her heavy breathing.
“All twisted in knots after Adora.” Someone- Lonnie?- was murmuring. Catra’s ears peaked and her head jerked in the direction of the door.
“They were always… close.” Kyle added. Rogelio made some reptilian nose of agreement.
“They still could be, but you know what I think? Catra scared her off.” Lonnie lowered her voice even more as she added. “Fucked in the head, that one is.”
Rogelio hissed, and Kyle shushed her. “What! You see how she walks around this place like a crazy woman, muttering to herself and ordering people around like she wasn’t just some cadet like the rest of us.”
“She could hear you.” Kyle muttered, panicked.
“Oh knock it off Kyle, she’s not lurking around every corner. Don’t be paranoid.”
Forcing herself to breathe and walk away, Catra buried her hands in her hair, combing through the mass. Desperately she pulled, wondering what had happened to the girl with wild curly hair and flushed cheeks, running hand in hand with a sweet blonde in the crisp autumn air. Their laughter haunted her as she walked, and she pressed her hands against her ears until she was flat out running to her bunk.
Fucked in the head, that one is.
She crashed to a halt against the lower bunk, hands curling into the hard mattress as her pants echoed. The room was mercifully empty.
Her eyes flicked up to the drawing she’d done years ago, her and Adora’s smiling faces, scratched through in rage. A sob clawed up her at the sight of it. It had been theirs, a testament to their friendship, and she’d shred it.
Her mind might be making muddled connections from the alcohol, but she thought of a tapestry. It was something only princesses had, and she’d certainly never seen one. But from what she had heard, they were things of beauty, made to withstand time and tell a story.
Her and Adora were supposed to be a tapestry. Or at least, this silly little drawing was.
Catra wondered if Adora had a tapestry- a real one- in her honor. She was sure there were countless of She-ra, the hero of Etheria.
If Adora was the hero, what did that make Catra?
Tracing the outline of Adora’s face in the drawing, another tear slipped past Catra. She wouldn’t be surprised if Adora’s “Best Friend Squad,” had a tapestry. One of their heroics and the love they had for each other.
She almost hoped they did.
After all, if Catra was the one who broke things, didn’t Adora deserve people who could fix them?
One day Catra would be nothing but this scratched out drawing on a wall. The Rebels were going to win. They had She-Ra. The almighty princess.
They had Adora.
Curling herself into a ball on the bunk that was once Adora’s, Catra told herself that this was all the alcohol talking. Tomorrow she knew that the anger would be back, the familiar rage she clung to in an attempt to justify her actions. Anger was easier than sadness.
No matter who’d hurt who more, Adora had started this war, and Catra was going to finish it.
She had a goal. A purpose. One that, for once, she was doing for her, not Adora.
Destiny was hers to make, and nothing- not Adora, not her foolish regrets, not the “friends” who’d left or betrayed her- was going to change that.
But, as she buried her face in the pillow that no longer smelled of Adora, she dared to dream about what would’ve happened if only she had said “yes.”
HI @janisarkisian ILY!! suprise i’m your secret santa hehe <33 i couldn’t help but write the gays <3
Word Count: 1609
POV: you’re skating home when you get distracted by a pretty girl and crash into a pole, and then the pretty girl comes over to patch you up and offer you teenage mutant ninja turtle bandaids while you ~ bond ~ (modern au) (and the “you” is iko, this isn’t x reader)
triko (tressa x iko) with some side winlet/cressder
***
Iko huffed, plopping down on the curb, watching as Scarlet showed off a new aerial to her girlfriend. Winter cheered, and Scarlet was rewarded with a peck on the cheek, to which she flushed gleefully at. Iko smiled seeing her friends so happy after months of romantic tension. The oblivious “she says I’m pretty but is it in a best friend way or a gay way” vibes were strong with those two.
“Hey Iko!” The blue haired girl skater swiveled to see Cinder coming over to her, their blond bobbed friend by her side.
Interesting…
“Cress and I were thinking of grabbing some shakes, want to come with?” The blonde pinked slightly, and Iko almost laughed out loud.
Come with? And ruin a chance to get these two alone?
Not a chance in Luna.
As it appeared, Scarlet and Winter weren’t the only oblivious sapphics around these parts.
Giving them a knowing look which was received by immediate fluster, Iko’s grin turned cheeky. “I was actually just about to head home, but you two have fun.” With a wink, she grabbed her board and stepped on, kicking towards the exit.
The midafternoon sun glared in Iko’s eyes as she made her way down the winding neighborhood roads she knew by heart. The view was almost always the same. Tree, tree, house, sign, car, tree, mailbox, the occasional frustrated mother, pretty stranger, tree, house, car… wait.
Pretty stranger?
Iko slowed, curiosity piqued.
She was pulling grocery bags out of the car, bright brown eyes twinkling all the way from where Iko was standing. Her long silky hair swayed above her cute floral skirt and high tops.
Then she turned her head, caught Iko’s eye, and smiled. In that moment, she had only one thought. Pretty girl. She felt she had died and ascended completely, risen from her body…
Until her body crashed into a pole.
“Aargh!” With what seemed like remarkable speed, Iko was shaken and fell. She landed with her back onto her board, and it promptly slid out from under her, leaving Iko sprawled onto the pavement.
Now she really did feel like she’d died, just without the ascension.
“Ughhhhhh.” Iko groaned, wondering what she’d ever done to deserve this embarrassment. Maybe the universe still hadn’t forgiven her from throwing pebbles at that annoying kid in kindergarten. Kennedy? Kinley? Kaleb? Whatever. He’d said her fluffy and frizzy space buns she’d spent two hours on looked stupid, so she threw a pebble at him.
“Oh my stars are you okay?” A light voice laced with worry caused Iko to brave the world and open her eyes slightly, only to find another pair just above her own.
Iko’s mouth would’ve dropped if she’d been vertical and had gravity to pull it down. Her almond shaped deep brown eyes were even prettier up close, imploring Iko’s own. When their gazes met, the mystery girl’s eyes widened the smallest bit, a light flush forming on her cheeks.
Is the pretty girl blushing…. At me??
Giving the girl a bright smile that she hoped didn’t look too much like a wince, Iko replied with added enthusiasm. “Totally!” She then tried to prop up on an elbow, but the skin was rubbed off, and she got a burst of pain as it gave out.
Sympathy filled the girl’s face, and she pulled a handbag over her shoulder. The second Iko saw it, she almost screamed.
“Oh. My. STARS! That’s a Tashami Priya bag!”
The girl’s face immediately lit up, which brought butterflies to Iko’s stomach.
“You know her? She’s, like, my favorite designer!” Bag girl gushed, and Iko was filled with excitement as she squealed.
“Same! The fabulous designs got me first, but when I learned about her vegan and cruelty free rules and how she donates to all these recuperating animals, she’s just perfect. And I adore her floral prints … is your skirt from her as well?”
Bag girl stood up to show off her skirt, and Iko sat up as well, trying not to think too hard about how she’d been talking to an incredibly cute girl with perfect fashion taste while on her back.
“Ta-da! It is!” The girl gave a dorky little spin, and Iko couldn’t help but smile at the sheer adorableness of it all.
“I love it!” Iko clapped her hands together. “It looks so cute on you!”
The girl ducked her head the tiniest bit and smiled, making Iko’s heart soar. With a sigh, she tried to set her hands back on the ground, only to immediately flinch.
“Oh stars I forgot…” The girl reached in her bag and pulled out a small first aid baggie. Getting out an antiseptic wipe, she kneeled down so they were eyelevel before reaching out to swipe the pad across Iko’s cheek.
Their proximity made Iko shiver, and she hoped she wasn’t blushing too much, though that was probably futile. Iko couldn’t believe her luck. A pretty girl, tenderly taking care of her wounds after gushing about vegan designer skirts?
In the great words of Cress from when they watched the after school skating rink, “it doesn’t get much more lesbian this this.”
Next she applied antibacterial from a swab- Iko couldn’t believe that despite Cinder’s protests, she wasn’t the only one who used a proper swab- and Iko swore she got cuter every second.
She needed to say something before this got awkward. Was it getting awkward? Maybe she was just thinking too hard.
“I use swabs too!”
What kind of conversation is THAT? Iko mentally screamed, but the girl simply met her gaze, bemused.
“My friend Cinder says that no one uses swabs besides school nurses, but I think they’re important for proper health.”
The girl laughed, putting it down. “My brother Kinney- well technically Liam but he thinks going by our last name makes him sound cooler, which isn’t true but he’s an idiot- says the same thing! I think it’s simply abhorrent that he puts medicine on with his dirty fingers though.”
“Liam Kinney?!” The words flew out of her mouth before she recognized she’d said them. The girl halted, looking curious, “Do you know him?”
Iko couldn’t help it. She started laughing. “I was actually just thinking about that kid but I couldn’t remember his name… I threw pebbles at him in kindergarten for insulting my hair. I was wondering if running into the pole was universal retribution for doing that.”
Surprisingly, the girl started giggling too. “You threw pebbles at him? For insulting your hair?!” She gave Iko an impressed smile. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to do that when I was younger, but my mom would’ve killed me.”
Iko laughed with her for a second, feeling pleased.
“So thank you for doing what I couldn’t.” She winked, and Iko glowed.
“It’s an honor.”
“Now, time to get you some bandaids…” She pulled out a box, and after a moment of rifling, returned looking bashful with a box of teenage mutant ninja turtle band aids in hand.
It was then that Iko knew; this was her dream girl.
“I’m sorry, these are the only ones I have…” She trailed off, and Iko was bobbing her head.
“No worries! I actually lowkey love them, even though they’re clashing with my top.”
Mystery-girl-Iko-still-didn’t-have-the-name-of (she had to work on that) looked relieved and thankful, and made quick work of applying them- one on her nose, and one left of chin.
“Thank you so much.” Iko gave her a great big smile, and the girl beamed back.
Iko looked down at her shirt, biting her lip a bit as she mourned her outfit. The girl watched her, as if thinking.
Then, as if hit with an idea, Cute Girl took out another bandaid and put it on her own nose, looking entirely ridiculous.
“Now we’re matching!” The bounce in the girl’s voice lifted everything, and suddenly, the whole thing seemed sweet. Iko wanted to kiss her right then and there.
The girl gave Iko a hand to pull her up, and they bumped into each other. Iko hopped back, her hand flying to wind itself, flustered, in her curls.
“I’m Iko!” She stuck out her (not bandaged) hand, and the other girl took it.
“I’m Tressa.” The girl… Tressa smiled brightly and sweetly, and Iko felt the flutter return.
Patting down her pockets, Iko pulled out a pen, jotting down her number on a half crumpled napkin in her pocket. “Maybe we could hang out sometime at the skatepark?” She suggested, trying not to sound like she was glitching out.
“That would be amazing! I’ve always wanted to try skateboarding!”
“Maybe I could show you some tricks?” Iko had a vision of standing on a board with Tressa, hand on her hips, as she showed her how the ropes.
“I would love that!” Tressa said, with earnest excitement. Iko could’ve died from elation.
“Tressa, Mom wants you in the house!” A boy, probably Kinney, called. Tressa rolled her eyes and seemed to visibly deflate- as did Iko.
“Well, I’d better be off. It was amazing meeting you!” Iko couldn’t agree more.
“I’ll give you a call later to work out the skating?” Tressa’s tone was questioning, and Iko gave another jump of excitement.
“Perfect!”
Tressa met Iko’s gaze with a final bright smile. “Well, bye then.” She waved as she ran off, and Iko waved back, feeling like she was floating on air, despite the stinging cuts and bruises she was littered in.
As Iko got back on her board towards her house, she knew one thing was for sure.
She was absolutely smitten.
***
skater iko concept is inspired by this post by @winterrhayle which i’m obsessed with 😌
also michelle (@thepurpledragon4444) made me keep in the “iko’s mouth would’ve dropped if she’d been vertical and had gravity to pull it down.” so blame her
thank you to @instant-karma-official for betaing! <3
HAPPY HOLIDAYS LANA ILYSMMMM. i am so happy i met you this year, and you have been one of the bright spots in this overall bad year of 2020. thank you for being such a lovely and fun person to talk to, and giving that extra dose of crazy that i practically survive on sdkfsd ;)) <3
happy birthday @yadrieljulian !!! ilyy <333 i hope you like it :D
mara and light hope’s last stand. takes place during hero (the ep.), so spoilers!! angst but with ~ emotion ~
***
Whispers. Whispers of saints, of soldiers, of angels. The mutters of darlings and demons, murmurs of ghosts and those lost. Mara was swimming in them, these voices of the hundreds of people who needed her, calling her. The echoes resonated, almost as loud as her pounding heart.
Heart. Her heart wasn’t the one that mattered. The real heart, the Heart of Etheria, did. The one that could destroy everyone’s heartbeat, not just her own.
Not only heartbeats. There were other things that had life but no heart, or at least, not a physical one. But their love was still real and true, and these would be destroyed as well.
Light Hope had always said she looked a bit like a star, eyes twinkling brightly under the grand expanse of the sky.
Sooner or later, all stars die.
Someone viewing a nightscape with billions of little lights never misses one if it disappears, but if the entire sky went out? Devastation. Stars were something that Mara clung to, their eternal shine offering her faraway comfort. And the stars that were people? They offered so much more than a luster of shimmering promises.
No. She would protect them, no matter what.
Light Hope once told her that everyone is made of stardust. Mara had laughed, unable to believe that the glittering orbs above them made up the human race, with their plain and non-shimmering skin. Now she could see the stardust in everyone. Every single person shone, if not literally. Even more, stars are distant, people are real. People are brighter than any star.
But not only people. Light Hope was brighter than all of them. Stardust created all things, not just humans. The entire world was stardust, and Hope had gotten an unfair amount. Every room seemed to sparkle that she was in.
When they had been talking about stardust, Mara had joked that she demanded they all should have sparkling skin and glowing eyes if they were truly children of the stars. Hope had reminded her that she actually did have all of these as She-ra.
She-ra.
With an enraged yell, Mara dragged herself out of her thoughts, hauling her sword once more against the spaceship side.
“Mara? Are you alright?”
Mara spun, and the sight of Light Hope sent new tears spilling over her cheeks.
“Oh Hope…” She took a step forward, reaching out only to bring her hands to her chest. Emotions conflicted, a whirlwind in her that she almost couldn’t bear to face.
But she needed the truth.
“Did you know?” Mara whispered.
Light Hope’s expression changed almost imperceptibly by regret. Mara had learned how to read her small shifts in expression. After all, she knew Light Hope better than anyone.
Or at least she thought.
“You knew.” Bitterness coated her accusation, hurled with all her pain. Of course Light Hope knew. She was their machine after all.
But… so was She-ra.
They were both guilty of crimes, crimes they couldn’t entirely control. And yet, Mara wished that Hope tried to make her own choices a little harder.
“Mara…” This time it was Light Hope who reached, and Mara stumbled back. “I… tried.” Her voice glitched, and fear gripped Mara’s chest. Light Hope couldn’t be controlled, not now, when there were so many things unsaid between them.
“Fight it, Hope.”
“My Mara…” Lighthope flickered, as did Mara’s heart at the “my.” Tears were coming again.
“T-there’s a place.”
“A place?” She leaned forward, breathing stopped as she realized what Hope was trying to do.
“Come on Hope, I believe in you.”
“A d-dimension. Despondos.” Light Hope was fading, glitching almost in half. A choked sound of emotion caught in Mara’s throat. “Th-they can’t g-ge-get you t-there.”
“Hope…” She held out her hand, palm up. Something familiar and sweet filled Lighthope’s face as she brought her fast fading hand up to meet it. Their palms met, and though it was unable to be felt physically, she certainly felt it in her heart. Mara sobbed, eyes meeting her Hope’s.
“Thank you Mara. For being m-my f-f-” She had almost faded completely. “Friend.” With that word, she had one final twist, and disappeared entirely.
Mara screamed, reached for where Hope had been, where her last stand as herself had happened.
She would be preprogrammed. Changed entirely. To someone who didn’t love her.
Someone Mara didn’t love.
Mara allowed herself a moment to curl in on herself, for a fraction of her pain to be felt. Why couldn’t she say anything? There were so many things that had to be said. How much she cared.
After Light Hope’s stand, she would have to be fast. They would be after her any moment.
Picking up her sword, she dragged it along, forcing herself to focus on the word that was more important, not the name of her love ricocheting around her mind.
Despondos.
***
“You’re not Light Hope.” Tears were falling, fast and furious, as her love stood behind her, there but not truly there.
“I am the same basic operating system.” The words tore at Mara’s heart, even though she already knew this would happen.
“You’re aren’t her.” She shouted, anger and hurt building up inside of her. What she’d give for the real Light Hope to be beside her right now. It was a wish that would never come true. “And you don’t get to tell me what my destiny is.”
Sliding her fingers across the board, the hologram flickered away… for good. Another shock of grief built up in her, as she stopped to look at where Light Hope had once been. The woman who had given her fields of flowers and galaxies, oceans and deserts, icelands and many more places she would never be able to see. Who had been besides her when no one else had, caring and calming. Who had fought her programing every day to make her happy.
Hope had done so much for Mara, and now Mara had to pay it forward.
The next few minutes were both a blur and the slowest of her life. She knew she was fading as she tried to explain it all. To Adora, the future. There was no way she could survive this. She was the star after all. The star that would keep the night sky alive.
Light Hope was a star as well. One that had been snuffed, it’s light filled with darkness.
They were both stars, made of the same stardust, destined for the same fate.
As Mara and the ship met the atmosphere and began to burn, she noticed one thing before she was truly fading to black.
Do u ever find urself writing about repressed gay nerds instead of doing the work ur supposed to be doing? Cuz that’s how I’m spending my finals week
you just described my life in one sentence.
but good luck with your finals!!! gay nerds >>>>> finals but they must be done 😔 i’m sure you’ll do amazing though, even if all your time is being spent on the gay (as it should be fjdskfsd) <3333
Catradora high school AU. Best friends to lovers. Adora is the ever oblivious captain of the school's football team, The Horde, and Catra is just a gay panic crushing mess who's in love with her best friend.
***
“Hey Adora.”
Adora spun around, her hand still on the towel she’d just slung around her neck.
“Catra!” She beamed, and Catra felt a little stir in her chest. Adora was decked in her football attire, exposed arms accentuating her muscle definition. Refusing to get caught staring, Catra twisted her lips into a smirk, shifting her gaze up to Adora’s eyes as a blush began to blossom.
“How was practice?” She asked, shifting her weight and placing one hand on her hip. A defensive pose. Though the only enemy is my traitorous heart. Catra thought with poetic annoyance.
“Great! Though I might have a little bruise forming from a ball Lonnie didn’t aim too well, but it’ll be fine.”
“Let me see.” Catra stepped forward, and Adora brushed her off.
“I’ll get some ice if it swells anymore.” She promised, and Catra rolled her eyes.
“Any more? ” She repeated dryly, eyes roving for a raised spot.
“Catra I swear I’m fine!” Adora’s words were exasperated, but her eyes were fond when she met her friend’s gaze. Catra felt herself begin to soften as well, and an unbidden smile rising.
A heartsick pang only Catra could feel ruptured the peace, and she leaned back against the locker beside her, faking relaxation. “If you say so.” She lifted one corner of her mouth to prove she wasn’t actually mad, and Adora moved to take off her jersey.
Catra whipped out her phone to give her somewhere else to look, but she couldn’t help but peer over the edge as Adora stripped down to her sports bra and threw on a tshirt with the lettering “Etherian Horde.” The cheesy design wasn’t flattering on anyone, so why couldn’t Catra tear her eyes away?
Face practically on fire, Catra ducked her head, hoping to at least somewhat hide her cheeks.
Catra cursed Adora for having this effect on her, scrolling aimlessly through her instagram with her thoughts only on the girl in front of her. The stupid blonde with stupid mucles and a stupid adorable smile.
Actually, Catra had to admit that her own hormones were probably partially at fault too. They were also stupid.
“Ready to go?” Adora called her attention, helmet under one arm and gym bag in the other hand. Catra shrugged her own backpack, and reached forward to grab the water bottle from the blonde’s hands. Their fingers bumped, and Catra jerked back like shocked. After her mini gay panic attack at the lockers, physical contact was not optimal for recovery. And she was nothing if not dramatic.
“Catra? Are you okay?”
Fuck fuck fuck fuck- “Yeah of course I am, I just uh… muscle spasm.”
Adora gave her a funny look, and Catra shoved her shoulder. “Oh cut it out.” She scowled, and Adora burst out laughing.
“Muscle spasm?” She repeated in between giggles, and Catra felt her ears heating as she forced down a small giggle of her own with a frown.
“Yes! Now stop that.” Her voice bordered on whining, but Adora was merely set off again.
Groaning, Catra slid a hand down her face, peering at Adora through the space between her fingers. The slightly annoyed girl cleared her throat, and Adora gathered herself.
“If you’ve finished,” Catra started with emphasis, “want to go get a shake or something? I just got my paycheck yesterday, so I have money for the first time in two weeks.” Despite the fact that she hadn’t had spending money in two weeks, Catra didn’t regret anything. She had spent her last paycheck getting them both matching rune tattoos that read “Promise.”
To Adora it was probably some sweet nod to their promise of friendship as kids, but Catra held the vow close to her chest with an iron grip. Maybe she’d never be able to have this girl the way she dreamt of, but the word reassured her that Adora still wanted her… even if it wasn’t the same way that Catra wanted her .
No one except an obsessive linguistics nerd would be able to tell what they said, so Catra was safe from rumors as well. It was bad enough she’d had to survive them all throughout middle school, after one time a kid saw them holding hands. It hadn’t, and didn’t, stop Adora and Catra from holding each other close whenever they needed the other. With or without a crowd.
Even so, that was middle school. Middle schoolers were nasty little toes and always looking for someone to throw under the bus. Most of the highschool students were mature enough not to care, and if they were homophobic pricks, they knew not to mess with Adora. Not because she was threatening, rather, she was liked by everyone. But as the best athlete in this school, between both the boy’s and girl’s team, she practically had celebrity status.
That said, she also did have very big muscles.
Before she would do something stupid like loose all sense and stare at said muscles, Catra turned and stalked out the door, combat boots smacking the wooden floor. “Come on!” She called, and Adora hurried after her. It only took a moment for the blonde’s track shoes to line up with Catra’s own footsteps, so they were walking in sync. A smile came to Catra’s lips as she recalled memories of skipping together down the sidewalks, arm around each other’s shoulders while they struggled to match each jump exactly to the other’s.
As if on queue, Adora brought her arm to rest on Catra’s shoulder. The brunette scowled, as she did whenever Adora flexed the inches she had on Catra. Instead of shrugging it off, she saw her opportunity and jabbed her elbow, half playfully, into Adora’s side instead. Caught off guard, Adora yelped and stumbled before tripping and going heads over heels over a bench.
Catra peeped over to see her sprawled on the ground, head having landed on her backpack and feet sticking up in the air. Adora glared at her, disheveled but eyes bright. Laughing freely, Catra had to lean on the bench to support herself.
“Don’t just stand there, help me up!” Adora reached her hand up, a lock of hair hanging in front of her eyes that escaped her ponytail.
“Just give me a minute.” The sight of her messy hair unreasonably set her off again, and Catra held up a hand as she continued struggling to catch her breath.
Through her laughter, Catra hadn’t noticed the sound of footsteps before they were too late.
“Adora, what on Earth are you doing down there?”
“Shadow Weaver!” Adora sputtered and attempted to straighten, instead managing to hit her head again on the locker. “I was just uh, I tripped.” Catra muffled another laugh with a cough.
“You tripped.” The coach repeated, disdain filling her voice as she looked over at Catra. Despite herself, Catra felt herself stand a bit taller. Eyes narrowing, she continued, “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself just as the season is starting to peak.”
It was clear Shadow Weaver knew Catra was to blame, and also that she had no sense of jest. That, plus Catra had the strange sense that Shadow Weaver just hated her. She suspected it had something to do with the lesbian flag in her locker.
“Of course not!” Adora’s breathy response drew both of their gazes to her, and Catra took pity, snorting again. Extending a hand, she ignored her jumping heartbeat and clasped the blonde’s grip in hers. She had a nice view of Adora flexing her arm to pull herself up, and despite struggling with the physical contact, Catra couldn’t complain.
Shadow Weaver glowered at Catra as if she could read her thoughts. It was all she could do not to stick her tongue out at the Head Coach.
“We’re going to be on our way.” Not relinquishing her hold on Adora’s hand, Catra pulled the football player behind her and away.
“Bye Shadow Weaver!” Adora managed to call before Catra made a sharp turn out of her sight.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Adora hissed, “Catra, what was that all about?”
“She was rubbing me the wrong way.” Catra huffed, continuing to march on.
“You were rubbed the wrong way? I was literally on my back the entire conversation!” Adora exclaimed, and Catra cackled.
“Oh how I wish I got a picture.” She paused to laugh, “and then when Shadow Weaver came and I didn’t help you up you should have seen your face. It was all like “ah no! Betrayal. ” Catra lifted her free hand up and dramatically twisted her face.
Adora sighed, her face melting from annoyance to a bemused smile at Catra’s reenactment. Her curved lips kicked off something in Catra’s chest, and she thought she would do anything to keep Adora smiling.
This time Adora tugged her hand as she continued her walk, and Catra looked down at their pressed palms with slight shock. She’d forgotten about taking Adora’s hand, they had fit together so naturally. Now it came rushing back, and she was frozen with not knowing if she should tear it away or let it be.
Settling for not doing anything and letting Adora take the lead, Catra knew she looked like an overenthusiastic kindergartener had taken a red stamp to her face. That is to say, a red flustered mess.
Taking an extra large step, Catra came up along Adora’s side. Adora fished around in her pocket for a moment, before retrieving her phone. Before Catra realized what she was doing, Adora had angled the camera at their joined hands and snapped a picture.
Ripping her hand away, Catra jumped back, cheeks burning. “What are you doing?!” She spat, and Adora looked at her with slight reproach, though if Catra wasn’t mistaking, she looked a bit flustered herself.
“I was trying to take a picture of our tattoos!” She stuttered out. Catra felt a pang of guilt. I must’ve freaked her out. Again.
“Well we don’t need to be holding hands to do it.” She grumbled, secretly wondering how she could get that picture. Hand feeling cold suddenly, she shoved them both in her pocket with a glower at the traitorous limb.
Catra looked up at Adora, an awkward silence stretching. Adora’s ears were pink as she looked at her phone, and Catra tapped her shoulder.“Sorry, I just…” There were a million ways to finish the sentence, but none that wouldn’t make this any more awkward. Opting to leave it open ended, Catra didn’t finish, instead stepping forward to push open the door with her shoulder.
“Ummm… did I tell you about how Kyle let the frogs loose in the science lab yesterday?”
The momentary tension dissipated as Catra continued her story, animated with grand gestures and facial expressions. She warmed as Adora laughed, the late afternoon sun making her face glow.
***
Catra kicked open the door of Mystacor Cafe, and made her way to their typical table in the window.
“Adora,” Catra turned her head, and frowned when her blonde wasn’t beside her.
“Adora?” She turned completely around, and wasn’t entirely surprised to see the athlete exchanging high fives and greetings with groups at other tables as she passed.
Glimmer waved in her direction. “Adora! I saw the pictures you sent me, I take it Operation Get the Cat-” Her face went stricken when she caught Catra’s eye, and the rest of the sentence was finished also as a mumble, “is going well.”
Completely confused, Catra looked over to see Adora glaring at Glimmer, cheeks flaming red. She was refusing to look back at Catra.
Operation get the Cat?
Adora still wouldn’t look at her, and went back to talking to the cheerleaders, who were beginning to look a little too flirty for comfort. Trying to shake off any tangles of jealousy, Catra sighed, dropping her bag as she slid into her chair. Propping her feet up on the table, she considered the rips in her jeans, deciding that they would look even better with another a little further up her thigh.
Tilting her head, Catra studied Adora. She would look good with a few rips in the sleeves of her jacket… just to spice things up.
“Hey, Brain-Damaged!” Adora turned her head, and Catra burst out in laughter, almost falling out of her chair.
“Did you actually just respond to ‘brain-damaged?” Catra wheezed. The group of cheerleaders who Adora had been talking with looked over at her with curiosity, and Adora crossed her arms, pink tinging her cheeks. “Well, you were talking to me weren’t you?”
“Yes, but still. ” Catra hopped up onto the table as Adora rolled her eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve called me that.” She grumbled, and the brunette smirked.
“I think it suits you.” She announced, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. Adora seemed to be seriously considering marching over and pushing her off the table. Both to aggravate her further, and make sure Adora couldn’t literally shove her over, Catra stretched out so she was lying on her stomach. Head propped in her elbows and feet kicking, she concluded “along with idiot” with a wink.
“HEY CATRA!”
Catra started, making a noise akin to a hiss.
“GET OFF THE TABLES!” Glimmer called from behind the counter, where she was working.
“Oh, can it Sparkles!” Hopping off the table, Catra turned to acknowledge her friend with a stuck out tongue. She returned it before turning back to the coffee machine.
“Are you done tormenting Glimmer?” Adora sat down across from her, and Catra looked up at her. Bits of hair were falling out of her ponytail and sticking to her forehead, and there were a halo of flyaways. It looked damnably attractive.
“I wasn’t tormenting her.” Catra emphasized. “Actually, I was trying to bother you. She just had to spoil my fun.”
“I think she was more concerned about doing her job than ‘spoiling your fun.’”
“Whatever. By the way, I was thinking about customizing your sports jacket…”
Adora gave her a wary look, ““What exactly did you have in mind?” In response, Catra held up her long black painted nails with a wicked grin.
“Absolutely not.”
“ Ughh fine, you’re so boring.” She squinted, tilting her head. “It would look good with two little rips on each arm…” Leaning forward suddenly, she was about to slice, but Adora grabbed her wrist.
“ Catra.” Adora looked down at her sternly. “We are not ripping up my team jacket.”
Catra held her gaze defiantly for a few moments, and there was a shift in the air between them. She couldn’t say what it was, but suddenly she wasn’t looking at Adora’s eyes, but rather… in them. Her heart fluttered and her wrist went weak. The moment stretched, and they were only inches apart…
Adora blinked, and the spell was broken. She dropped Catra’s wrist in a rush, her eyes darting away as color bloomed across her cheeks. Catra felt her mouth fall open slightly in shock, though she didn’t know if it was belated shock from the moment or the fact that it had ended. Blood rushed to her cheeks as sat back, still in temporary mental paralysis.
Adora had just looked into her eyes, and then blushed.
But… she had also pulled away.
The mixed signals made Catra want to scream, but was there a possibility?
Adora stood up suddenly and gestured with her arm, turning her face away. “Come on, let’s go order.”
They went to the counter, ordering their usual milkshakes, chocolate for Catra and strawberry for Adora. Mere seconds after they’d sat down, Catra reached over and snatched Adora’s shake, holding it out of her reach as she “taste tested.”
Catra held it up and behind her head, leaning as far back as she dared while Adora reached over the table. “You- you pest!” Adora shrieked, and Catra laughed two times harder.
“ Pest?” She repeated, teasingly mocking. “Who says pest?!”
“Glimmer said it yesterday.” Adora huffed, continuing to reach.
“Actually, that is a very Glimmer thing to say, but not something I’d expect you to repeat.”
In a last ditch effort, Adora jumped out of her seat and lunged. Catra’s chair tipped back, and suddenly she was falling as the blonde reached forward to try and stop it.
It was like slow motion. Adora, moving in an attempt to stop Catra from tipped completely backward, stepped forward and onto a forgotten gatorade. The bottle rolled and her foot slipped out from under her, and then she was going down as well. Falling forward towards Catra while she backwards, Adora threw out her arms to stop herself from face planting into the other girl. Catra landed on her back with a shock, but whatever breath was left in her body left her lungs when she opened her eyes to see Adora’s face millimeters from her own.
A deep blush spread across Adora’s face, starting at her nose and working its way until the entirety of her cheeks and forehead were reminiscent of a cherry.
Neither of them made a move, and Catra’s heartbeat was beating so erratically she was certain she was seconds from a heart attack.
That would be a fun gravestone. “Cause of death: Gay panic induced heart failure.”
Her eyes traced Adora’s eyelashes, dark and full despite her blonde hair. The grey-blue of her eyes locked into hers, and Catra inhaled sharply.
Was there a heterosexual explanation for the way she was looking at her?
Blood rushing through her head, Catra froze as Adora’s face moved minimally closer to hers, lips tingling with anticipation, and thoughts whirring into white noise-
“Hey! Catra, Adora!”
Like a shaken soda pop, Catra jolted backwards, and Adora stood up so fast it seemed impossible. Breathing heavily, Catra tried to make up for the lack of oxygen intake from the last, what- minute? Five minutes? Ten? How long had Adora been there, face in front of hers, inching closer….
“Uh…. sorry.” Adora gave her a hand, and Catra pulled herself up. They were inches away again, and the brunette took a jittery step back. Her hand tingled from the contact, and she shoved them in her pockets, unable to look Adora in the eye.
Bow was looking between them, an unreadable look on his face.
“We fell.” Adora explained, breathless. Catra sneaked a look at her, and saw the pink was refusing to fade.
The possibility that Adora could ever like her back seemed so absurd mere week ago, even an hour, but now… Catra didn’t know.
Ridiculous.
But… was it?
Overwhelmed with thoughts and shaky nerves, she crouched to pick up the strawberry smoothie. It’s contents were all over the floor, and Catra was about to stand up again to get napkins when Adora crouched down.
“I’ve got it.” She started to clean up, paper napkins in hand. Their shoulders were touching, the blonde’s ponytail brushing her cheek.
“Uh, thanks.” Adora turned to Catra, and once again their faces were far too close.
Knees weak, Catra stood up and stumbled into her seat. Bow had turned it upright, and he was now leaning against the table.
“Sooooo…” He looked at her again, one eyebrow raised. Catra gave him a glare, and he raised his hands.
“So.” Adora plopped in her chair, her cheeks still stained slightly pink. Catra thought of the pink contents of the strawberry milkshake spilled on the floor, and Adora’s eyes meeting her own…
It was all too much to take in.
“I just remembered I have… uh… extra, er, calc homework. But I will catch up with you later!” Not even waiting to see their reactions, Catra slung her backpack over her shoulder and tried not to run out the door.
***
Scaling the tree alongside the house with ease, Catra came level with the second floor window and knocked.
She didn’t even have to wait a full two seconds before the curtain was pushed aside. Adora was wearing a black tank top and sweatpants, her hair up in it’s classic ponytail, though it was messy, as if she hadn’t bothered to redo it since this morning. Catra tried to ignore how the tips of her ears felt slightly warmer.
The window opened with barely any complaint, and Adora poked her head out. “What’s up?”
“I’m heading up to the roof if you want to join me.” Catra let go of the branch with one hand, so she was leaning out precariously.
“Show-off.” Adora mumbled, and Catra winked. The blond’s gaze immediately flicked away, and Catra felt a little jump in her chest. Adora turned to grab a blanket before starting to crawl out of the window with some difficulty, despite having done this regularly since they were kids. Catra leapt up the branches until the top of the house, where she transferred to the roof with ease. Adora came in her own time, and settled beside the brunette, shoulders touching as their legs dangled over the edge. The sun had just set, and a hazy dusk was settling over the town as they looked out.
They didn’t speak for a while, just sat with each other. For years they’d been doing this, and they had gotten to the point where silence spoke just as much as words.
But now, the silence was charged, and Catra’s mind was full. Full of Adora. The girl beside her, who had always been beside her. She who had bangaded scraped knees, laughed off mean spirited teasing, taught her how to ride a bike, sat with her when no one else would… all the way up until their relationship now. The person who was always there for her, whether it was to do something small like make fun of Shadow Weaver’s pretentious dresses, or provide a place to stay when her parent’s fighting got too loud.
Fueled by these emotions, Catra moved her hand to settle on top of Adora’s.
Adora started. Catra kept her hand there, frozen as she waited for Adora to make a move, waiting for rejection. Though the action itself was miniscule, Catra could feel how everything shifted.
Her hesitation was brief, but the time it took almost killed Catra. Instead of moving away, she flipped her own hand palm up and intertwined their fingers.
She felt a flutter as her breath caught. Feeling almost above her body, Catra turned to look at Adora. A moment later, the blonde turned her face as well.
The space between them was practically nothing, and the rest of the twilight fell away as she caught Adora’s eyes. There was something there, a wanting, as they searched Catra’s own.
Adora leaned forward, and Catra did the same.
The twilight fell away, as did her stomach. The kiss was tentative, and lasted only a moment, as if they were both uncertain. When they met each other’s eyes again, Catra moved back the tiniest amount.
“Do you really want this?” She asked, her heart and voice trembling with anxiety. This was the chance for Adora to back out and pretend it hadn’t happened, or admit that it was spur of the moment and unwarranted. She could end all of this with a single word. Dread slithered through Catra, but she remained firm. She wouldn’t take advantage of this if it wasn’t okay with both of them.
Adora took both of Catra’s hands in hers, and gave her a wide smile, one that sent Catra’s stomach whooshing and her heart floating. “Absolutely.”
Catra beamed back, full of light. This time, there was no hesitation. She brought her lips to meet Adora’s again, and put all that she had, years of yearning and wishing, into it. Though her emotions hit her with all the power of a comet, the kiss was tender. Sweet. Loving.
When they parted, Adora grinned, looking practically starstruck.
“Wow.” Her voice had taken on this sort of… dorky… quality, and Catra couldn’t help but giggle.
“You dummy.” She rested her forehead against Adora’s. “I love you.”
The words, spoken with sudden bravery, seemed maybe a little too heavy for someone who she had only kissed twice. Or was it once? Did it count as two?
Either way, Catra knew it was true. She’d known it was true for years, but she had no idea if they would ruin this beautiful thing they’d just created. So she tensed, waiting for the fall.
“You love me?” Adora repeated with slight disbelief, but not repulsed.
Catra laughed lightly. “You are such an idiot.”
“I love you too.” Catra turned to look up at Adora, her turn to be shocked. After the kissing, she was expecting her to like her at least, maybe a lot, but…
Love?
Adora’s eyes said it all, and feeling close to bursting, Catra responded by closing the gap once more.
With the knowledge that this actually meant something, it was even better. Catra brought her other hand around Adora’s waist, and they leaned into each other fully. A warm feeling spread throughout her, and Catra thought about how long she’d wanted this. To love Adora, and be loved back.
Adora leaned forward a little more, and every thought left her head besides Adora’s lips.
It was messy and warm, just like the two of them. Darkness was coming in on them rapidly, but Catra never wanted to leave this roof. Not if it meant she got to have Adora.
Breaking apart, Catra remembered that Adora was wearing a tank top, and she wasn’t too warm either with her fishnet sleeves. With slight disappointment, she reached over and grabbed the blanket that Adora had carried up. Adora took one side, and threw her arm over Catra’s shoulder, bringing her in close. Catra tucked herself into Adora’s side, contentment washing over her.
The sky was a shade of blue that couldn’t be described as light nor dark. It was dusky, and Catra noticed the first star. Nudging Adora slightly, she pointed. “Look.”
There was a moment of silence, before Adora asked, “What did you wish for?”
Since they were kids, they’d always come up here to watch for the first star and make wishes. And of course they’d always share their wish with each other, because the “bestest of friends” bypassed the rule about your wish not coming true. Instead, they had declared, if we told each other, the wish would be twice as strong. Because if Catra wanted something, Adora wanted her to have it, and visa versa.
Catra didn’t have to think too hard before finding a simple truth. “More nights like this.” She decided, looking up at Adora.
Her face melted into another smile. “Wish granted.” She declared, resting her head on top of Catra’s.
“What about you?”
Adora considered. “I actually think I have everything I want right now.”
“You sap.” Catra whined, but her words had no effect once she started kissing Adora again.
Draco helps soothe Hermione after a long day at work. Written for two of my friends <3
Word Count: 495
~*~
Hermione hung up her coat, shutting the door behind her. With a sigh, she wrung out her hair and glowered at her drenched clothes. London weather , she thought distastefully.
“How was your day, sweetheart?” Draco walked out from the flat’s kitchen, a mug in his hand. He made his way over to her, giving her a quick kiss.
“You wouldn't believe the ridiculous ideas the Quidditch team proposed today.” Hermione huffed. “They want to have the World Cup, underwater . Bloody stupid, the whole lot of them. Wouldn’t let go of the idea either!”
Draco made a sympathetic noise. “Is that Seamus Finnegan again?”
“Yes, you’d think that getting married to someone as sensible as Dean would make him wise-up, but no. ”
Draco groaned. Hermione continued to let off steam for a few minutes, while her husband listened intently, occasionally offering consoling words or expressing righteous agitation. When she had finally talked through the struggles of the day, he wrapped an arm around her waist and handed her the mug of tea. “I’m sorry love, I’m sure you’ll help them come to their senses. This is chamomile with cream and sugar. Perfect for chasing away rough days.”
“You made this for me?” Hermione smiled for the first time that evening.
Draco grinned. “ I wanted you to have something nice to come home to.”
Hermione tilted her head up and pecked his jaw. “You’re too sweet.” She laid her head against his arm, and he could sense how tired she was. “Up to bed.” he declared, crouching down to pick her up bridal style. His wife yawned, tucking her head under his own. The dampness from her clothes began to seep through his, but nevertheless he carried her upstairs.
Draco deposited Hermione on their bed, and left for a few minutes so she could change into comfortable clothes. When he came back, he climbed in next to her. Tucking her in, he grabbed the book from beside the table. “A History of Magic.” Draco recognized it as Hermione’s favorite, which she could quote extensively from.
He settled into a sitting position, the book in his lap. Hermione curled against him, and he opened to a bookmarked page. “The four leaders of Hogwarts, Salazar Slytherin, Helga-”
“Helga was first.” Hermione corrected.
Draco raised his eyebrows, and peered at the page. Unsurprisingly, Hermione was right. He got his reading glasses from the bedside table and continued.
“Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, and Rowena Ravenclaw.” He saw Hermione’s mouthing along with him and smiled. She put her head in his lap, and he laid her hand on his shoulder. Rubbing her back in a soothing way, he continued to read for about ten minutes, before she began to nod off. He adjusted her so her head was on the pillow, returned his book and glasses to the table.
“Goodnight, love.” Draco kissed his wife’s forehead. She murmured something back sleepily, and he smiled before turning out the light.
The Writer’s Last Stand (and other content creators are welcome)
First, what is the Writer’s Last Stand
Writers of any fandom will no longer be writing any content for four weeks
Fandoms don’t know how to treat writers and, honestly, I’m sick of it. We put in just as much hard work as edit makers, artists, and any other creators but we never get the appreciation we rightfully deserve.
You can go even further and un-publish on Archive of Our Own or just not update.
But, wait. If you’re writing for others aren’t you writing for the wrong reason?
Yes. But art is meant to be consumed. Art is meant to be seen, literature is meant to be read, photos are meant to be framed. We write for ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve validation.
It’s like writing a novel, a REALLY good novel, and then when you’re sad about not getting published someone says “um, but you shouldn’t write for OTHER PEOPLE. you should write for yourself.”
Of course you should write because you want to, but the thing that makes the creative arts special is that they’re meant to be shared. We pour our hearts and souls into creations, we dedicate brain space to it, we lose sleep for the things we create.
It will always be a let down when our creations aren’t acknowledged. That’s why we have this strike.
So, when is The Writer’s Strike?
September 19/20, 2020 to October 15, 2020
I’m giving you a little bit of time to unpublish and/or spread this around. You don’t have to unpublish if you don’t want to, but I’m unpublishing on Tumblr.
Can artists and edit/gif makers do this?
This is open to any writer of any fandom and all content creators. This is focused on writers though, because we’re not appreciated enough. Content creators on tumblr are generally not treated well.
Extra information?
This doesn’t stop you from writing, but we will not be posting or publishing what we write. We’re starving our respective fandoms.
Please signal boost this. It’s a sacrifice, but if we do it together it won’t be so hard.
Spread the word to some underappreciated content creators too!
It’s been so long since I wrote for them 🥺💕 I got an anon ask on my main blog, @phobidawg to write Oscar and Ruby baking ages ago, but I had ~ no motivation ~ (ew.) Sorry it took so long, but it’s here! Enjoy :D
Reblogs super appreciated <333
Word Count: 1758
~*~
Throwing open the door, Ruby welcomed Oscar in. He held up his bag of supplies, and she whooped, giving him a bright smile.
“I have very little experience cooking, just a warning.” Ruby cautioned as Oscar settled his bag on the counter.
“Cooking?” Oscar’s eyebrows furrowed in slight worry.
“Yeah-”
“I thought we were baking…” Oscar trailed off.
“I told you my mom would be using the oven for bread, so we’d have to work with the stovetop.”
“Uh-oh.” Oscar pulled out the supplies for lemon shortbread cookies out of his bag. He noticed Ruby couldn't help but look touched, even if he was completely incapable.
She held up the bag, squinting at it. “Maybe we could…. cook them on the stove?” Ruby suggested dubiously.
“Fried cookie dough!” Oscar exclaimed. He was like, 92.36 percent sure that’s how they did it at the fairs. The salt-and-peppered girl brightened and gave a little hop. “Oooh! Great idea!” His stomach did a little leap at its own, and he ducked to hide the effect she had on him.
With renewed purpose, Ruby took the bag of flour and poured it into a big bowl. Oscar peered over her shoulder, and they were both met with a faceful of flour.
Eyes closed and mouth open in shock, Oscar stumbled back from the bowl. He rubbed at his eyes as Ruby expertly wiped off the flour with a cloth beside her. Noticing him struggling, she turned to wipe the flour off his eyes as well, and he was suddenly struggling with trying not to notice how close their faces were.
“Uh, sorry- I should’ve warned you about that.” She laughed, cheeks tinged pink. Oscar looked at her incredulously. “That’s a normal occurrence?” He exclaimed. She nodded, and he caught the slight teasing glint in her eye.
“Don’t you use cups to measure it in or something like that?” He asked.
“Umm… nope. It’s all just a gut feeling you know?” Oscar did not know, and he was pretty sure didn’t either. He caught her eye, expertly raising an eyebrow, and she batted his shoulder with her flour covered hand. He jumped back. “Okay, okay captain, whatever you say! Just don’t flour my shirt.”
“I say…” Ruby considered, before picking up the sugar.
“Incoming!” Oscar leaned back as she poured some into the bowl. It didn’t poof up like the flour, though she still got a few flecks on her lashes. Oscar though it looked kinda pretty. Actually, despite being covered in flour, Oscar thought she looked great. Impulsively, he leaned over to kiss her cheek.
Surprised, she turned at him with an abashed smile. “Now your lips are all white” She pointed out with a giggle, and Oscar could see her flush a tiny bit where the flour was thinner. He pursed them like a fish, and she giggled again, before giving them a peck. Oscar grinned, incredibly pleased.
“Focus!” She snapped her flour covered fingers in his face for emphasis, sending a cloud over his nose. He sneezed, inhaling flour as he laughed.
“I present to you the baking soda…” Oscar showcased the little tin dramatically before handing it to Ruby. She took a pinch and sprinkled it in, and proceeded to take five more. Oscar raised his eyebrows once again. “I can’t tell if that was another one of those ‘gut’ things or actually pre-determined.”
“Well it’s normally 3, but I think I may have added a little more flour than usual.” Ruby explained. Oscar was now entirely certain she did not know what she was doing.
“Baking powder!” She demanded, flourishing a hand in his direction. He plopped the little container in her hand as requested.
“Thank you.” She took two pinches, and tossed it to the side.
“Now we mix.” Oscar cheered, and grabbed a whisk. Ruby got a wooden spoon, and together they mixed it, bumping elbows and giving each other teasing shoves.
The wet mixture went on similarly, though cracking the eggs was a sight. Oscar gave it a go, and cracked it very well… in his hand. Then came take two, where for some unfathomable reason the yolk ended up outside of the bowl and the shells and whites in They had to put the operation on hold to pick out as much shell as they could, and Oscar had a suspicion that Ruby was tossing little pieces in his hair when he wasn’t looking. On his third try he managed to get it in with a limited amount of shell added. He wanted to take it out, but after spending 10 minutes removing all the pieces from the second one, Ruby insisted that some shell adds “delectable crunch.”
“Hold up!”
Oscar looked up from where he was throwing out the egg shells. He looked towards Ruby, who had shouted. “What’s wrong?”
“I think we were supposed to add the sugar to the egg mix, not the flour.” Ruby was frowning at the bowls, and Oscar had a sudden sinking fear. “Are they ruined?!” He ran to the counter, desperately looking for a sign. If there was no hope for them, Oscar was certain he wouldn’t survive the heartbreak.
A bit alarmed, Ruby put a hand on his arm. “I’m sure it’s fine, they’re all going to the same place anyways.”
Together they combined the bowl, with Oscar slowly adding in the wet mix while Ruby mixed it all together. There was a crease between her eyes, squinted in concentration, and her eyebrows were dusty white with flour. He felt a little bit of happiness settle into his chest, just from being here with her.
When he’d finished pouring, Ruby nudged him and gestured to the bowl with butter and eggs. “This is your chance to show off your impressive muscles.”
His elated grin melted away into a slight look of disgust. “You mean I have to knead that… like…” He imitated a squishing motion with his hands.
“Um, yeah.” Ruby looked at him quizzically, and his face was grossed out. He recognized the twist of her features as they resisted the urge to laugh, and slid the bowl back towards her. She gave him a look, and he felt reluctant to admit that he was in fact a tiny bit uneasy with the thought of kneading the dough.
Sighing with exaggerated drama, she rolled up her sleeves. “I supposed I’ll have to show off my incredible strength first.” Oscar was more than happy to let her squish the bowl of egg, butter, and flour, and everything else for him, and he could tell that she didn’t mind the chance to exhibit her muscles. Though Oscar was partial to his own upper body strength, he had to admit that she was very fit as well.
Ruby jabbed at the bowl with the wooden spoon a few times, attempted to mix it with the whisk, and when none of it proved effective, stuck her hands to squish it all together.
Not envying her one bit, Oscar fiddled with the radio behind them. He heard what sounded like a choir, made a face, and went to change it.
“Wait go back!” Ruby called excitedly. Oscar, confused, skipped back to the choir- which was rising in pitch.
“Ohmyskies this was like my childhood.” She held up a finger, telling him to wait, when suddenly the crescendo stopped. Ruby, and the sudden man, let out an enthusiastic “HEY HEY!”
Oscar suddenly recognized the song. “Only Angel!” Ruby explained, as he grabbed a spoon and started jamming. “Harry Styles was my pre-teen obsession.” She laughed, a tiny blush on her nose, starting to dance. “He was an old singer from before the Age of Anarchy.” Oscar nodded, vibing. The blush on her nose was also distractingly cute, and he was sad when she turned back around.
“Only Angel- woohoo!” They sang together, Ruby shimmying her feet while continuing to occasionally knead.
He couldn’t decide whether his spoon was a mic or a guitar, so it ended up being both. Ruby watched him from the corner of her eyes, muffling laughter as he sang out of the rounded part of the spoon while “strumming” the stick. Oscar thought he actually sounded pretty good in the moments that he tried- though most of it was exaggerated for the ‘funny factor.’
The mix was now completely doughy, so she rinsed her hands and dried them with a hand towel while Oscar continued to sing into his spoon.
As soon as her hands were dry, Oscar threw his spoon over his shoulder and reached over to pull her in a spin. Ruby yelped in surprise, but it quickly turned into a laugh. One hand on his cane and the other in hers, he started to lead some sort of swing dance that was completely inappropriate with the music, but fun all the same. Ruby couldn’t stay steady on her feet for her life, and tripped every other second, but Oscar flawlessly led them on.
They swung, spun, and shimmied across the kitchen, bubbling laughter and the squeaking of converse on tiles merging with the music. Their eyes met, and faces complete with matching grins, and Oscar felt a rush in the pit of his stomach.
“She’s an angel, woohoo. Only angel, woohoo-” Oscar couldn’t help but agree, as he swung Ruby in a circle. His own complete happiness was reflected in her gaze, as they turned in circles and moved their feet with enthusiasm making up for lack of skill. As the song reached its peak, Ruby tilted up on tiptoe and kissed him.
Though he hadn’t realized it, this was what Oscar had been waiting for the entire day. He settled his cane against a counter and slid the arm around her back, their other hands still intertwined. Ruby smiled against him, and he was momentarily concerned that he’d swallowed one of Danna’s lepidopterans and it was having a party in his stomach. As the last chords of the song faded out into the echoing choir, Ruby lowered back down to standing, fingers still entwined in his.
Oscar looked at her with a heartsick grin, and Ruby couldn’t help but return it- even as she stepped back. “Remember, we still have cookies to fry!” She announced, turning on the stove. Oscar brought the bowl over to the stove, his step complete with a new bounce. The two of them shared a grin, and Oscar was left wondering by what luck of fate he’d ended up with such a good lot in life.
I couldn’t decide between Hallice and Spallam as the ship name but Hallice sounds more suiting for the oneshot.
ABH angst (kinda). Alfred's spirit can't move on until the story is finished, and Alice has to learn to let go.
Word Count: 800
~*~
The moment his hand went limp, it was as if the entire world had released a breath- and Alice couldn’t get it back. Her lungs gasped, trying to grasp at something she couldn’t find, and her heart- as well as the story, stopped.
Something, most likely a cry, pent up in her throat, choking her. A single tear slipped out, and memories of their lives together came in a rush, threatening to overwhelm and envelope her like the sky of space.
“Alice…” Startling, she turned frantically.
“Alfred?” She responded, a comet of shock shooting through her. “Alfred?!” She called louder, jumping to her feet.
“It’s alright, my love.” She felt him near her, but as she whirled on his body next to her, it was obviously not coming from his parted lips. The sob in her throat emerged with a strangled noise.
“Alice…” The voice repeated with growing strength.
“It’s not you!” She screamed, slamming her hands down on her ears. “You’re gone.”
“When a soul still has unfinished business on Earth, they can’t leave.”
She didn’t know if it was Alfred who said it, or some barely recalled memory, flitting through her mind like the memories of constellations on nights when she missed the sky with a deep ache.
But she did know what it was referring to.
The story.
“I won’t!” Alice declared, trying to reach for him. Her hands returned empty, and disappointment crushed her. As she collapsed into herself, Alice could feel him beside her, trying to offer comfort despite his intangibility. She longed to touch him, hold him, see him. His lifeless body was beside her, and she grabbed the hand in desperation, dropping it with a shriek at his touch of ice.
A rushing was filling her ears, and the sensation of spiraling out of control was coming over her again. Whooshing noises were being chased around her mind, like the sound of solar flares that her teacher had played in class once. Nausea came over her as she remembered the teacher’s mangled body on the street outside the remains of the school, when everything was going up in flames. When she shoved her hands into her eyes, bright spots flickered like dying stars. Alice wondered hopefully if she was dying too. Then she could join Alfred, and her teachers, her parents-
One of the voices was louder than the rest, leading her back into herself with muttered kindnesses. A warm feeling embraced her, and Alice thought to herself, this is better than him completely gone. How can I possibly send him off and leave me here all alone?
“Alice, love.” She felt him like a cacoon, around her shaking body. “You have a whole life ahead of you, a life to live.”
“Yes, with you. “ Alice insisted.
“You can’t spend all your days with me, when I’m barely here.” His own voice cracked, and Alice felt a part of her heart break.
“What about you?” She hugged her knees tightly.
“I have an entire afterlife to live elsewhere.”
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, rocking slightly, breathing heavily. “Will that make you happy?”
“It will make both of us happy.” His voice was sad, yet certain. Alice focused on him beside her, trying to take any sort of pleasure from these last moments. It will make both of us happy.
All his life, Alfred had tried to make her happy, safe, and loved. Now it was her time to return his love.
She knew what she had to do.
“I love you.” She whispered, hand reaching as if she could possibly hold him. The words she never got to say before.
There was no hesitation, only sadness for the world they could’ve had when he replied, “And I love you too.”
Fighting a new round of tears, but heart feeling somewhat at peace, Alice began to recite the story from where she left off. Her voice was thick with tears, and every passing word Alfred felt fainter. But he held her until the very last.
“Goodbye, my love. Thank you.” The very air around her echoed, and she felt him let go entirely as she finished the final passage. Looking up, Alice saw a shimmering form rise, and there was a glimpse of the night sky. She felt her eyes tear afresh - she hadn't seen that sky in so long. Alfred looked small as he ascended into the stars, nothing to the vastness of space. And yet, he meant everything to her.
With a final twinkle- like a wave goodbye, the vision disappeared. Alice waved back with a trembling hand, the absence of her Alfred like a black hole in her chest. Taking a steadying breath, Alice stood, ready to meet the world on her own- but never alone.
Just some soft early morning Alice and Alfred fluff and dancing in the kitchen :)
Word Count- 751
~*~
Alice’s eyes flickered awake, unaccustomed to the bright dawn light. The room was bathed in early morning light, and she could distantly hear the sizzling of butter on a hot pan. The smell of eggs and bacon wafted into the room, and Alice smiled.
Pushing back the covers, she hopped out of bed. Already brushing any lingering feelings of sleepiness, Alice dreamily walked to the kitchen, humming to herself as she went.
Alfred looked up and smiled as she walked into the kitchen. The girl’s heart fluttered, and her limbs were light. She crossed over to him, and leaned her head on his shoulder. Alfred wrapped his free arm around her waist, and rested his head atop hers. He began to twirl her hair with his fingers, and she looked up to smile at him while he wasn’t looking at her.
She hadn’t realized she was still humming until Alfred joined her, singing along to a melody they had long claimed as theirs. One that they’d danced to long ago, trying to claim a moment of peace before the fall. But in the end, their had been no fall- and what had been claimed “tuberculosis” was actually mis-diagnosed chronic asthma. It had been a no less hard road, but he’d clung to life, and now they were living a new world.
Alice began to sway to the melody, Alfred following suit.
When the eggs looked properly cooked, Alfred slid the griddle onto another stovetop. Detangling herself from his arms, Alice stepped over to the icebox to grab the remnants of yesterdays milk. Her arm trailed behind, her and Alfred’s hands still locked together. Ever since his near brush with death, Alice always wanted to be connected to him. It was as if she believe that if she never let go, neither would he.
Picking the jug up by its neck, Alice closed the top with her elbow and set it on the table beside her. Alfred slid the eggs onto the plates already set.
Her white rabbit turned to her, his hair still puffy and mussed from sleep. Alice snorted with laughter, and ran a hand through it, not sure if she was trying to make it neater or messier.
“Your hair.” She giggled, and his lips quirked, bemused. As Alice lowered her hand, Alfred caught it on the way down. Picking up the song where she’d left off, he stepped forward, both of her hands in his.
“Dance and give yourself to those long eyes…” Alice joined, and they started the dance. Arms out, and in. The jokes about hair and the eggs on the table were so forgotten, and they only had eyes and thoughts for each other. Hands clasped, Alice ducked under his arm, and their faces were merely inches away. Alfred brought a hand to touch her cheek, and they turned slowly a circle. Alice remembered when they had they learned the dance, a day in wonderland. Her lips tingled, and she thought of how then, she wasn’t even supposed to come this close.
Now, she would be as close as she could. Leaning in, Alice pressed her lips to Alfred’s. He leaned towards her, and their music stopped, momentarily forgotten as a new sensation filled them.
But it wasn’t forgotten for long. In her mind, the next bar continued, signifying it was time to step away. Extending her arm, she leaned out, and Alfred pulled her back in. She twirled into his waiting arms, and with him holding her hands to his chest, the two swayed. Alfred buried his face in hair, and with a feeling of happiness blooming, she continued turning, arms crossing, noses brushing. When her eyes met his, instead of a bittersweet love that could only end in tears, she saw her own hope flicking back. Hope for a future together, and simple pleasure of sharing a dance, barefoot in the kitchen.
With a final arm motion, the song they’d be singing faded into instrumental humming. Hand in hand, Alice led Alfred to the table. Sitting on the opposite side, their hands met in the middle of the table, Alfred’s tumb continued tracing her knuckles tenderly. Heart still rushing from the intimacy of the dance, she gave Alfred a wide smile and a playful kick under the table.
Alfred raised an eyebrow, and nudged her back.
Stifling laughter, the two continued to act thoroughly immature and kick at each other under the table, while maintaining the air of complete formality eating their eggs.
There’s two fics for this ship on ao3 and none on tumblr and I’m heartbroken- so I decided to write one of my own! It’s a little clunky, but I love them so much I couldn’t help myself.
In between letumosis runs, Cress stays with Cinder on Luna to visit and help out the palace tech. On one of these visits, Cinder and Cress watch the sunrise on Luna. Soft morning fluff and plenty of yearning.
Word Count- 764
~*~
A whisper was trying to draw her into consciousness, and Cinder resisted, rolling over.
"Cinder, come look!" Groggily, she matched the voice to Cress's, and getting up seemed a little more tempting.
With a sigh, Cinder blearily opened her eyes, and the petite blond came into view. She also seemed soft and tired, but her reluctantly open eyes were gleaming brightly. "Good morning." The petite girl chirped. A tangled curl of hair fell in front of her face, and Cinder felt a rush of warmth as she matched Cress's smile with one of her own.
"'Morning Cress." She replied, sitting up.
Cress held out a cup of tea to her. Accepting it gratefully, Cinder took a sip before asking, "What are we doing?"
Setting her own floral patterned cup on the bedside stand, Cress gestured to the grand floor to ceiling window facing Earth and met her gaze excitedly. "We're going to watch the sunrise!"
"Oh!" Cinder sat up a little straighter in eagerness. She'd heard that the sunrises, though rare, were spectacular. However, she'd never seen one herself, always either too busy or too tired. But here she was, admittedly half asleep, but hanging in there.
Cress climbed up onto the bed and settled herself next to the other girl, drawing the blankets around her. Cinder felt a deep pang of affection and longing, and tried to content herself with sneaking looks at her lovely heart-shaped face, curious eyes, sweet pink lips, and curling unbrushed hair. Flyaways from her hair caught the light, making something of a halo around her head. Cinder longed to pat them down, just to see if the rebellious strands would pop up again.
"How was your sleep?" Cinder started as the admired turned her head.
"Besides interrupted?" She joked, and Cress rolled her eyes and grinned.
Both of them could sense the early morning fuzz between them, and they were content to watch the window in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence and their tea.
When Cress reached over to take Cinder's hand and point out the window, the young queen, caught totally unprepared, had a moment of panic. All her senses focused on her hand, her left hand. But if Cress had any reaction to the fact she was holding a cyborg hand, she didn't show it. Cinder thought back to the previous conversations she'd had with Cress about her cyborgness- ones that always ended with Cress telling her that while she was different she was by no means lesser, and though she was 36.28% cyborg she was 100% human.
"Humanity isn't a measure of how much flesh your body is made up of." Cress had replied when Cinder tried to argue. "It's your capacity to feel, love, and think freely. Not to walk on two legs of skin and bone."
A feeling of acceptance and clarity mixed with a good amount of loving emotions had come over her, and if Tressa hadn't walked in that moment, Cinder was certain she would've either cried or kissed her.
"Look!" Cress tapped her friend's shoulder, and they both looked over to see a halo of light began to peak over the Earth.
The Sun began to crest, rays making brilliant golden points as stunning hues of yellows, oranges, and gold began to cascade over the Blue Planet. Moments later, the star of the show made a blinding appearance. Cinder saw her own awe mirrored in the fair girl's face.
Once the Sun had taken its full place in the sky, Cress scooted closer. Looking sleepy, she tucked into Cinder's side. Instinctively she put an arm around her, feeling acutely aware of how every breath lifted the small girl's frame, and how Cinder's own arm rose with them. Cress' light pink nightgown made her appear harmless and defenseless, but to Cinder, Cress's kind heart was tougher than almost anyone else she knew. Her gentleness rounded out Cinder's harsh edges, just as she grounded Cress and kept her from living in her head for too long. Cinder smiled to herself, thinking about how the lovely girl in her arms brought out the best in her, as well as feelings she'd never felt before.
Longing filled Cinder as she looked down, and she would’ve been content to watch her sleep for hours, but exhaustion was pulling. Sliding down from sitting position, Cinder curled around Cress and dozed off.
This was one of my first tlc fics, but I just found it and edited it, so I thought I’d post for TLC Ship Weeks run by the lovely @kaiderforever! It’s technically for AU Day (day 6) but I’m late bc I didn’t have wifi :’)
Sunshine Girl- Jacin and Winter are decorating the nursery in preparation for their first child.
Word Count- 786 (just fluff)
~*~
“Should the comforter be pink or purple?”
“Mmmm, don’t you think lilac sounds much better than purple? It reminds me of faraway fairy tale colors...”
Jacin made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat as Winter shut one eye, studying the white child’s cradle. “I think that the comforter should be rose, and the decorations baby blue.” she responded finally, turning to face Jacin with a sunny smile. Her joy was infectious, and she saw Jacin grin slightly to himself as he spread the baby blanket over the mini mattress. “Whatever you say my princess.”
Swaying as she hummed thoughtfully, Winter sat down on a rocker, resting her hands on her huge belly. “You know you don’t have to call me princess anymore.”
“I know.” Jacin made his way around the collection of unopened toys and baby gifts, and bending down to touch her nose with his own, he continued, “But you’ll always be a princess to me.”
Closing her eyes, she replied lightheartedly, ”And you’ll always be my guard.”
“Let’s hope you won’t ever need one again.” he lightly brushed his lips against hers, before straightening up to choose which pillows to put on the cradle.
“I like the lavender lace one.” Winter inclined her head to the pillow he held in his left hand. “It reminds me of the beautiful bouquet you made me when we visited Scarlet-friends farm.”
Winter saw Jacin blush slightly at the memory, hiding his face from her as he gently placed the pillow on the bed, fluffing it tenderly. Seeing him so vulnerable made Winter grin, she knew it was hard for him to put down his defenses.
Jacin turned back to her before she had a chance to smother her smile. “What’s got you so giddy?” he asked teasingly, continuing to hold her gaze even as he bent down to put extra pillows in the blue blanket box.
“Oh, I was just thinking about how it’ll look with a baby.” she said breezily, patting her belly. Now Jacin smiled too, pushing the pink curtains back to let light flood the room. It was a Sun Day in Artemisia, and Winter loved how the golden rays made Jacin’s hair glisten like shimmering icicles.
“Perfect.” Jacin’s voice brought her back from a vision of touching his icicle hair and it shattering, and Winter shivered. Her visions weren’t completely done with, but the surgery, and Jacin, had definitely helped. Now they weren’t always scary, but knowing that part of her mind didn’t belong to her still made her wary.
“Are you okay?” He asked, having noticed her smile’s brief fall. Nothing ever slipped past Jacin.
“Perfect.” she responded, looking around the room. “I think we should paint the walls sunshine color.” she said abruptly, her lips curling mischievously.
Jacin frowned slightly in confusion. “You mean yellow?”
“I mean sunshine! Like the golden light that makes everything prettier and warmer and happier.”
Shaking his head yet bemused, Jacin bent down and picked up a can of paint. “Sunshine it is.” Leaning over to peer at the color, Winter’s eyes widened at the sunny yellow that complimented to other colors in the room, indeed making everything look brighter.
“Oh!” Winter clasped her hands together, “It’s perfect!”
Jacin’s mouth twisted to the side proudly, and dipped a huge paintbrush in the can of sunshine. He then turned and lifted his arm, letting his hand brush against the plain wall, leaving a streak of sun.
Winter jumped to her feet, swaying slightly under the weight of the baby in her belly. “I would like to help!”
Jacin nodded, motioning toward a tray of brushes. Instead of grabbing a large one like his however, Winter took a tiny detail brush and, turning to the cradle, dipped it in the paint.
Delicately, she painted a tiny circle on the white cradle. Mesmerized, she made little rays from the circle with paint creating a tiny, but no less spectacular, sun.
Enchanted, she touched her finger to the drying paint. The expecting mother turned to see Jacin watching her fascination, a small knowing smile on his face.
“Did you know that on Earth, there’s a season called summer where the shine shines all the time, filling the planet with warmth and light?
“Like that time we visited Scarlet-friend, was that summer?”
“Yep.”
“Summer… sounds like sunshine.” She mused. “Summer.” Winter tastes the word. She looked at Jacin, eyes dancing. “I like it.” Looking into his grey-blue eyes, she can tell that he understands.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He covered her hand, still on the painting, with his. Hands pressed together, the two cover the miniature sun in love for each other, and their daughter, Summer.
"Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?" I ask. "No," A long time passes before he adds "She crept up on me." Pre-trilogy, Odesta. Mostly fluff.
TRIGGER WARNINGS! - panic attacks, mentions of r*pe (nothing detailed or explicit)
Word Count- 2561
~*~
There she was again. The red-haired woman everyone said was mad. She didn’t look particularly crazy, laughing as she splashed in the surf with the neighborhood children. But Finnick knew a thing or two about madness. It sneaks up on you, and you don’t see the memories coming until they’re there.
The woman dunked underwater, and reappeared in a wave that drenched all three of the children. One of the kids fell over giggling, and the other two continued to play.
A slight turn of her head, and the woman caught Finnick staring. Her smile widened as if they had just shared a private joke, and Finnick ducked his head. He was surprised to find his own lips curling up.
Swinging a net over his shoulder, Finnick walked over to the woman and children.“Would you mind helping me?”
The children hopped up immediately to grab the two wooden poles on either end of the long bait net. The woman stood opposite of him, and he could see the laughter still flickering in her eyes, as well as slight shyness.
“My name’s Annie.”
He smiled, and nodded in turn. “I’m Finnick.”
The group stepped to the side, dragging the net along as they went. Finnick could already see the little bait fish getting towed along against the net.
Annie paused while Finnick and his side continued, making a rotation around her until the net made a C. From there, they dragged it back towards shore. The dance was as natural to Finnick as breathing, and he felt peace in familiarity wash over him. Every brief respite from the Capitol was a blessing, and he’d just arrived home yesterday morning.
They brought the net up to shore, and the children squealed as the minnows and other little fish began to try and jump from the net. Annie ran to get a bucket, which they promptly emptied the contents of the net into.
Finnick noticed a Peacekeeper glaring at him out of the corner of his eye, watching to make sure he didn’t steal the bait. He picked up the bucket, and began to haul it in the direction of the Peacekeepers. “It was nice to meet you.” Finnick’s words were sincere, and carried a weight that the overused formalities rarely held. Annie waved as he left.
He was intrigued by her, this woman like him, and he wasn’t sure they were so different.
~*~
It was the day of the Hunger Games tour, and earlier the winner of this year’s games had given their speech. Now was the “partying,” where the whole town was in the main square “celebrating” the Hunger Games for the cameras.
Finnick caught a glance of Annie, her eyes vacant and hand twisting her hair.
“Annie?” At the sound of his words, she turned her empty eyes on him. “It’s very loud.” She murmured, eyes seeking Finnicks own. His heart panged as it related painfully. He knew all too well how triggering loud noises could be, and on a day such as today- a day completely dedicated to The Hunger Games, he'd had his own share of flashbacks.
“Maybe we should get a breath of fresh air.”
Annie nodded, and Finnick took her hand and led her out the door. Her eyes were frantically darting, and he took them to a dock just outside the square. No one noticed them leaving the crowds. Sitting down, he took off his shoes and put his feet in the water. Annie followed him, and the water seemed to soothe her. Yet, one hand continued to stay on her ear, even though the only noises came from fishing boats in the distance.
“Hey.” Finnick touched Annie’s hand gently, and she looked at him. Her eyes focused on his, as if trying to bore holes. Or maybe climb out of one. He didn’t break the contact. “You’re in District 4, and the water on your feet is from the bay.” She nodded, feet wiggling in the water.
“District 4.” She repeated to herself, gaze moving to her toes as she grasped for footholes out of her mind.
Finnick continued to talk about District 4, all its features, and the land around him. Every word seemed like a wedge in a cliff, a little ledge that she used to pull herself up, bit by bit. Even the flashing light of the Peacekeeper watchtower over the sea, which was always a point of anger and anxiety for Finnick, seemed to be helping.
Once the light had fully returned to her eyes, Annie half collapsed on Finnick’s shoulder, as if the effort had exhausted her.
”Thank you.” She whispered.
“Of course,” They looked out at the water, trying to find peace with the marching of Peacekeepers, the barbed wire fences, and memories threatening to drown them.
~*~
Finnick awoke, gasping. He shivered at the sensation of hands roaming all over, his body not feeling like it belonged to him.
Breathing heavily, Finnick tore back the sheets, blindly fumbling out of his room. Blinded by a rising panic as he started working himself into a frenzy, he ran to the beach right outside his house. Tearing off his shirt, Finnick jumped in the water without a second thought. The salt stung his eyes, and he began to rub himself down with sand, trying to clean off the fingerprints of hundreds of people who’d touched him over the years. His breathing and heart only quickened as the seconds dragged on, his skin raw with the friction of the sand. And yet, the fingerprints never went away.
“Finnick?” He looked up to see a silhouette in the light of the lighthouse. “Are you alright?”
No, he was definitely not alright.
Intending to dismiss her, he was surprised when the simple truth was pried out in a tight breath. “Not particularly.”
There was a beat, and Finnick let his handful of sand sink from his hold. A slight ripple, and he saw Annie coming to join him in the water. The moon outlined her frame, and her exposed shoulder only made him shudder. His vision of her kept being interrupted with images of other women, people he’d never learned the names of, and their faces were blurry in his memory. All that remained were their hands and the scars they left behind.
“It’s alright.” She said, forcing the images away. “it’s alright to be not alright.”
Something about the words made him choke out a breathy laugh.
“I’m glad that it’s okay that I’m having a meltdown.” The word meltdown echoed around his soul, the connotations raising a new round of battering. Words like coward and weak soon joined the symphony, and Finnick felt his self-control slipping.
“You don’t sound very convinced.” Annie commented. Finnick forced his mental downward spiral back as he tried to focus on her words.
She kept talking. “Right now, I’m fine. But sometimes, I’m not okay either. But that’s alright. We’re hurt, but that doesn’t make us lesser.”
A little bit of the frenzied knot began to loosen in his chest as words finally sunk in. The chorus belittling him receded, and he braced himself- expecting a new onslaught of phrases and the secrets of various lovers to fill the space.
Before his mind got the chance, Annie asked, “Would you like to know what I do when I’m upset?”
Finnick tried not to sound desperate when he responded, “what?”
“Follow me.” She led him out of the water, and the panic was delicately held at bay. Annie brought him to a pile of rope on the dock. She chopped a bit of it off using the sharp edge of the rusty ladder. Finnick watched, enraptured, as she began to tie knots. Any sailing teacher would’ve been proud as she filled the whole rope, untied, and repeated.
Once she’d finished her demonstration, Annie handed him the rope. Immediately, his fingers began their work. With each knot, his horror became more manageable, easier to put in the back of his mind as the burning of his fingers and endless lessons on knotting took the foreground.
~*~
The mayor was getting married, and he was throwing a huge party for the whole district to celebrate.
Finnick was more than content to sit by the refreshments and listen to the music. He’d had a fair amount of guests, man and woman alike, beg him to join them. With a charming smile and claim of exhaustion, he’d send them on their way.
“Would you like to dance?”
Finnick spun around, his signature smile already playing on his lips. At the sight of Annie, all deceptive charm vanished, and his lips melted into something real. Her own eyes were clear of all flirtations, and he felt that this must be what friendship is. No manipulations- just two people, everything laid at their feet.
“It would be my pleasure.”
The song was an old sea shanty, one that sang of a sailor and his lover reunited on land. The music resonated in their bones as the dancers clapped, stomped, twirled, and laughed. Finnick picked Annie up in a spin, and she showed off her footwork while prancing in a circle around him. The dance climaxed, and all he could see were the spins and motions. A brief catch of eyes there, a glimpse of her smile, the flash of her sea green dress. An unknown sensation built in the pit of his stomach as he felt her hands in his.
The downpour began all at once, with a loud crack of thunder and sudden sheets of water. The rain only brightened Annie’s face, and her laughter became fuller as the water clung her clothes to her skin and dripped off her nose.
Though their movements weren’t as light or graceful, the heart of the dance only grew as the pair became more and more soaked. The energy of the remaining crowd built up, the dampness only feeding the fire. With a final twirl, the song ended, and Finnick was left looking over shoulders to see where Annie had twirled off to.
~*~
There was something about her that drew in Finnick’s eyes everytime she was in his vicinity. At the market, fishing, on the street, everyone and everything dulled to the background.
He watched her exhibit kindness to the smallest of creatures, from bugs to the animals on the streets. More than once, Finnick had seen Annie scooping bees and beetles out of the water to dry on the jetty, rinsing off scraped knees of the street children, or slipping dogs little bits of fish. Her smile awaited him everywhere. Every one of her sunshine looks felt like a countdown, one that he could only imagine how it would end.
Many nights they’d find each other, distraughtly walking the beach. Wordlessly, they’d decide to go on together, often finding comfort simply in being in the presence of another who understands. He didn’t know exactly when they started holding hands along the way. It was a mutual agreement, a subconscious reach for the other. Their eyes hadn’t met, but the pressure of her hand intertwined in his stabilized both of them better than any line of rope.
~*~
Finnick didn’t know when he realized. He’d thought of it as a countdown, every little action pushing forward the timer in his heart. But what it really was, was a buildup. Every smile that was bolder than the last, every musical laugh, every knot he tied beside her, all collecting to tip the scales of her heart. The way she would hold him in moments of weakness, just as he held her. The peace of mind that came just from seeing her, and how she’d now take his hand in moments of excitement or happiness as well as fragility. Her ability to see the light of the world despite a darkness within and all around her.
They had been drawn together by mutual need. Need of understanding, need of comfort, need of true friendship. But if the flipping minnows in his stomach were any indication, Finnick wasn’t quite sure that ‘friends’ was a suitable enough word.
He never expected it. How could someone as broken as him fall in love?
The answer was simple. Annie had said it to him once, “we’re not broken, nor missing pieces. We’re still whole… just a little cracked.” From there, she’d intertwined her fingers with his. Finnick looked down and saw that seperated, the spaces between their fingers looked like cracks. But when they laced them together, the cracks were filled. They were still there, but less noticeable.
That’s how Finnick felt with Annie. He knew that no person or love could completely heal him, but it could help. It made the hurt less prominent, and replaced some of his dreariness with hope.
~*~
The sunset was brilliant, and Finnick could see Annie sitting on the dock outside his window. Her auburn hair was stunning in the golden light, and his breath caught. Not bothering to even put on sandals, he walked out to meet her.
She turned to see him as he walked down the dock, the light making her face glow. Something in him felt like it was filling at the sight of her. Even his view of patrolling boats on the sea wasn’t enough to damper his happiness. It was all he could do not to lift her up, twirl her around, and tell her everything he felt.
Actually, he hadn’t completely ruled it out yet.
“Annie…” He didn’t know how to continue, and she was watching him expectantly. Despite being the Capitol’s darling, he didn’t know the first thing about actually sharing his feelings when they were true. Never once had he been seductive around Annie, nor her to him.
It made no sense, yet here they were.
He reached down to take her hands, and pulled her up in front of him.
“You fill in my cracks.” He said finally.
Her eyebrows flickered briefly with surprise, but soon her face softened with a smile. “And you fill in mine.” She whispered, barely audible over the sound of waves. The moment was so heavy, Finnick could barely breathe.
He searched her eyes, longs poems he’d heard in the Capitol, he was anything but lost in their depths. Rather, he felt found.
Annie stepped towards him, and on tiptoe, rested her forehead against his. Finnick sighed, and she tilted up her face and pressed her lips to his sweetly. The kiss was over in a moment, and she was flat on her feet, face open as she waited for his reaction.
Something in his chest felt wild, and without hesitation, he picked her up and spun her around- just as he’d wanted to. She giggled, her hands stabilizing on Finnick’s shoulders. He laughed, holding her gaze as he set her down. A rush of emotion filled him, and he didn’t know how he could contain it all.
He leaned down and kissed her again, and she clung to his neck as he dipped her down. The sound of waves receded as his pounding heart filled his ears, and brought her back up to standing.
“I love you Finn.” She looked up at him, bashful yet bold. Finnick beamed at her, and brushed her nose with his own. “And I love you.”
Capitol be damned- he’d found love just where he was.
