#swift hat-trick series

[theetherealbloom]

WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 3 | 14th Doctor

Chapter Three: Guess The Space Was The Thing That I Needed, But I Miss You

Summary: You arrived on present-day Earth engulfed in violence and chaos. And a familiar foe who transcends the universe’s laws and logic. He hails from a realm where science is a game, but that salt trick apparently blurred the lines of reality enough for him to enter your universe.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance, Character Death, 

Word Count: 15.5k

A/N: Hello old friend, and here we are, you and me on the last… chapter. When I posted the first chapter of this mini-series I was honestly terrified of the response I would be getting. I hadn’t been writing for a while due to stress or lack of motivation. But then the miracle called the Doctor Who specials came into existence and here we are. Also, Merry Christmas Eve! Here’s my little gift to you. I hope you enjoy. (P.S. yes there will be an epilogue :>)

Song: This Love by Taylor Swift (Taylor's Version)

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

ENGLAND, THE STREETS OF LONDON — DAY, 2023

The world descends into turmoil and pandemonium as cars collide, their metal frames screeching against each other. The air is filled with the cacophony of people shouting and screaming. Amidst the mayhem, you, the Doctor, and Donna navigate the tumult, pushing Wilf's wheelchair through the chaotic landscape. Struggling through the disarray, people around you engage in fights and heated arguments, adding to the surreal spectacle of disorder unfolding.

As the rumble of a truck engine grows louder, a man defiantly strides onto the road, seemingly prepared to challenge the oncoming driver. Reacting swiftly, both you and the Doctor extend your arms, urgently intervening. You exclaim, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Excuse me. Can you tell me, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

The elderly man, with an air of self-assuredness, retorts, "I can’t drive."

Perplexed, you furrow your brow and inquire, "Okay, so— Which means?"

Meanwhile, a car behind you impatiently honks, prompting the Doctor to raise his hand, signaling the driver to wait. Unperturbed, the stranger in front of you explains, "I pay my taxes. Which means I paid for this road. It is mine, and I will do with it what I like."

The Doctor interjects, cautioning, "You’ll get yourself killed."

The man, with a sneer and a narrowed gaze, replies, "It’s my life, not yours." Undeterred, the Doctor suggests, "But you could just stand over there and be safe."

Flailing his arms emphatically, the man retorts, "Blame them! Because it all changed two days ago. Everyone started thinking they’re right all the time. And they won’t change their mind. If you try to argue, they go mad. Well, not me. I’ve always been right."

The deafening honk of the truck intensifies as it barrels forward, compelling the Doctor to swiftly seize you and yank you out of harm's way. In the chaos, you unintentionally collide with a well-dressed man adorned in a tuxedo, complete with a top hat and a staff in his left hand. Apologizing in a refined manner, he utters, "Oh, excusez-moi, madame et monsieur, je suis désolé. But perhaps you will dance avec moi."

He then takes the lead in an impromptu dance, placing his hand just above your waist and swaying with you amidst the bedlam unfolding on the street. In a rather peculiar tone, he utters, "Ooh la la."

Feeling uncomfortable, you gently pull away from the eccentric stranger. The Doctor, sensing your unease, protectively tucks you behind his body and asserts, "That's my wife, sir. Excuse me." With a subtle maneuver, he guides you away, back to where Donna and Wilf are positioned on the side of the street.

Amidst the cacophony of screaming voices echoing through the chaotic streets, the peculiar stranger continues his solo dance, creating a bizarre spectacle in the midst of the turmoil. The distant whirr of a helicopter above adds to the disconcerting atmosphere, leaving you and the Doctor with a growing sense of panic, a shared feeling of confusion about the unfolding events.

Armored vehicles roll onto the scene, their imposing presence and military precision contrasting sharply with the chaotic backdrop. A soldier, wielding a loud megaphone, calls out with urgency, "Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Stay where you are. You are UNIT control. Repeat, UNIT control."

The soldiers swiftly move into action, their movements coordinated as they converge on your location. One of them confidently asserts, "Go, go, go! Let’s move! Eyes on, eyes on! I got them." The atmosphere shifts from anarchic confusion to a semblance of organized control as UNIT takes charge.

The authoritative figure from UNIT, Colonel Ibrahim, strides forward, a no-nonsense expression etched on his face. "Doctor, Stargazer, I’m Colonel Ibrahim of UNIT squad five," he declares with military precision. He gestures toward a waiting vehicle, a subtle urgency in his stance.

Donna, the voice of concern, steps forward, her plea directed at the Colonel. "Get him to safety. All right? Never mind about us. I want my grandad safe. All right? You got that?" Her words carry the weight of a granddaughter determined to ensure the safety of her grandad, emphasizing the weight of the situation.

Colonel Ibrahim gives an assertive nod, his military demeanor unwavering. "Yes, ma’am. We’ll keep your family safe," he assures Donna. Wilf, displaying concern for his granddaughter's well-being, encourages her, "You go with the Doctor."

Amidst the organized chaos of UNIT soldiers following orders, a palpable sense of unease settles over you. A feeling of being observed intensifies, prompting you to instinctively clasp the Doctor’s hand. Together, your hearts quicken as you turn to the left, discovering the stranger with whom you shared an odd dance. He stands eerily still, offering a disconcerting smile and a small wave, sending shivers down your spine.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Seated alongside the Doctor in the first helicopter, you peer out of the window, taking in the chaotic scene below. The city is ablaze, casting an eerie glow that turns the world outside into a disorienting spectacle, as if the very fabric of reality has been upended. The second helicopter follows closely, bearing the weight of the TARDIS, an emblem of hope amidst the turmoil. The flickering flames paint a surreal canvas against the night sky, leaving you with a profound sense of displacement.

The helicopter sets down on the helipad at the UNIT headquarters, and as you disembark, the brisk wind from the rotor blades whips through the air. Donna clutches her coat tightly, shouting over the din, "Oh, here comes trouble."

Shirley, in her wheelchair, wheels forward with a wide smile, greeting you with a warm, "I could say the same thing about you." The TARDIS touches down nearby on the helipad, and amidst the noise, the Doctor remarks, "Shirley, you can’t be serious." Shirley squeezes your arm in a friendly greeting.

Chief Scientific Officer Kate, your boss, appears on the scene, her short blonde hair bouncing slightly as she strides towards the group. The Doctor, arms outstretched, exclaims, "And Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. I remember your father working night and day to keep UNIT a secret. Look at you now. Out and proud defending the Earth."

Kate embraces the Doctor tightly before turning to you with a subdued smile, saying, "I fought them all. Robots and insects and yetis and clones. But what do we do this time, Doctor? How do we fight the human race?"

Inside the UNIT headquarters, the large steel doors close behind you, shutting out the chaos. The new HQ unfolds before your eyes, with the hum of radio chatter and the bustle of people. Multiple screens and tables with keyboards fill the room, and a triple giant screen at the center displays various statistics and news outlets reporting the devastation around the world.

Kate hands the tablet to the Doctor, and you lean over to peer at the symbols and graphs displayed on it. The Doctor, engrossed in the data, doesn't look up as he remarks, "Good, good, good. Now, what have we got? Are these worldwide? 'Cause I'm gonna need all of the statistics."

As he turns to his right, an exclamation of surprise escapes him. Your gaze follows his, and there stands a very familiar redheaded companion and colleague. She grins at the Doctor's reaction, and he joyfully exclaims, "Oh! That is the best news! Melanie, hello!"

Both you and the Doctor share a brief hug with Mel, who giggles and adds, "We'll catch up later. We haven't got time." You chime in with a playful, "Ta-da! Surprise, Doctor."

Turning to you, the Doctor asks, "You knew?"

You playfully roll your eyes and retort, "We work together, dear." Mel adds, "We also try to meet every Saturday for a cuppa."

Mel tilts her head slightly, addressing Donna with a warm smile, "I used to be like you. I was one of their companions." Donna gasps, exclaiming, "I wasn't the first redhead?"

With a shake of her head, Mel allows her large red curls to bounce, "No. That was me."

Donna awkwardly chuckles as the Doctor takes his glasses and wears them, quipping, "Although don't say companion. That sounds like we park him on the seafront at Weston-super-mare."

As Shirley pushes herself off the wheelchair, standing and giving Donna a look, Donna suddenly realizes what she said and turns to face Shirley, asking, "Is 'park' rude?" Shirley replies with a monotone voice, "Borderline." Donna winces in response.

In the heart of the command center, Kate stands with authority, her tablet in hand, and announces, "And stations. Gold Protocols. The Doctor and the Stargazer are in the room. Report."

Shirley adjusts her stance, her voice cutting through the air, "Two days ago, an increase in violence worldwide. The same increase in every country, all rising at exactly the same rate."

"Basically, every single human being thinks they're right and won't be told otherwise," Kate says, moving to stand next to you. Colonel Ibrahim adds, "That plane crash, the F665, Boston to Heathrow. The pilot declared his right to land wherever he wants."

On the screen, footage of the crazed pilot plays. His eyes were wide, he laughs amidst the blaring alarms of his instruments, declaring, "I'm coming home. Lookout, London. Daddy's coming home!"

In the tension-filled room, the Doctor initiates, "If everyone is going mad—" and Kate concurs, completing the thought, "So is the government."

Shirley, with a solemn nod, swipes on the screen of her tablet, unveiling footage of the current Prime Minister. He stands on a podium, his laughter echoing as he addresses the nation, "What do I care? I mean, seriously? Why should I care about you?"

In the aftermath of Donna's nonchalant remark, injecting a touch of humor with her observation, "No change there then," the room grapples with the unsettling scenes unfolding on the screen. The Doctor, now reclaiming the tablet, hands it back to Mel, who places it on her station. His gaze then sweeps across the room, and he remarks, "But you're fine. You're completely normal. And that's because of the—" He gestures towards the silver bands adorned with a glowing blue light worn around their arms.

Kate steps in to elaborate, "Oh, we call it the Zeedex." As the room processes this information, a robot's machine voice chimes in from the far left, connected to tubes and sporting screens, proudly announcing, "An invention of the Vlinx."

Taking a step forward, the Doctor addresses the robotic AI, "Hello, the Vlinx. I'm the Doctor, and this is my wife, the Stargazer."

Quick to clarify, you interject, "Not married yet."

"Just practicing," the Doctor playfully hums before turning his attention back to the Vlinx. With curiosity piqued, he queries, "So why's it called the Zeedex?"

In response to the Vlinx's brief explanation, "Good name," the Doctor emits a small, contemplative "Oh." Kate supplements the information, stating, "It disrupts the brain. Flattens the spike. Keeps everything calm."

With a slight scrunch of your nose, you inquire, "And the spike is?"

"I think I need to show you," Kate responds. Sensing a shift in the room, she commands Shirley, "Activate brain scan."

"Activating, ma'am," Shirley acknowledges. A beep emanates from the computer, and the screen displays the frequency inside Kate's brain. She points out, "That's my brain activity. Seems normal, albeit slightly heightened, given the end of the world. Now keep your eyes on the scan."

Kate moves to the center of the room and instructs, "And deactivate my Zeedex."

Shirley types on the keyboard, announcing, "Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, off." The light on her silver armband extinguishes. Kate takes a moment to scan the room, hands on hips, and asks, "Well?"

You gently interject, "Uh, hello?"

"Hello," Kate replies promptly, but her narrowed eyes betray suspicion. The Doctor poses a simple question, "How are you?"

"Fine," she responds.

You casually inquire, "Busy day?" Kate's nostrils flare, and she glares at you, retorting, "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just asking. Is that a problem?" you reply, observing the increased spike in brain activity. Kate aggressively points at you, asserting, "It's an invasion of my privacy. In fact, it's an assault on my civic rights. And I think it's highly relevant that the person demanding information from me is an alien."

The Doctor turns to Shirley, nodding in approval for her to activate her Zeedex, and calmly says, "Okay."

However, Kate abruptly interjects, rejecting the Doctor's initiative, "No, no, no, no, no. I think you'll find that I'm in charge here." With a swift motion, she rips off her Zeedex, launching into an impassioned tirade, "And we've been infiltrated by aliens, a man and a woman with two hearts," she points accusatorily at the Doctor, "a man who changes his face and cannot be trusted."

As her anger intensifies, Kate aggressively directs her accusations at Donna and Mel, both with red hair, insinuating a conspiracy. You instinctively step forward, shielding them from Kate's escalating rage.

Growing more incensed, Kate turns her ire towards Shirley, who looks on with mild dissatisfaction. Kate singles out your friend and declares, "And as for her, in that chair. I've seen you walk. I've seen you walking! Don't deny it!"

UNIT soldiers move in to pull Kate away, and she unleashes her fury at you, "And you! This is all your fault! If you hadn't fallen into the bloody time rift, altering the universe with your existence and falling in love with the Doctor—none of this would have happened!"

The soldiers carefully escort Kate away, and the Doctor swiftly positions himself in front of you, protectively shielding you from lingering gazes. You bury your face in his shoulder as Kate continues to shout, "No, you can't stop me. It's about time you heard the truth."

One of the soldiers places the silver band back on Kate's arm and commands, "Activate Zeedex," resulting in a beep and the restoration of the blue light on her band. Kate sits on the floor, panting, as the tension in the room eases.

You lift your head from the Doctor's shoulder and nod, silently assuring him that you're okay. Together, you approach Kate, who is visibly distressed, covering her face with her hand. She breathes out an apology, "I'm sorry."

Both you and the Doctor shake your heads, reassuring her, "No, it's okay."

Gasping for air, Kate turns to Shirley, mortified, realizing the extent of her outburst. She says, "Shirley, I'm so sorry."

Shirley dismisses the need for an apology, "Absolutely no need."

UNIT soldiers help Kate to her feet as she acknowledges, "It's not just me. It keeps spiking inside every single person's head."

"But what does that mean? Is it being beamed in from outside?" Donna inquires. The Vlinx responds, "No. It is natural. It is generated inside the brain."

Donna points out, "But not me. Not Grandad." Mel adds, "Nor me. I'm wearing a Zeedex just in case, but I've been fine. Well, no more opinionated than usual." Donna sighs, "You and me both."

You and the Doctor ponder the situation, and he suggests, "Maybe long-term travel in the TARDIS put you out of sync."

Donna shakes her head and proposes, "Can't you give everyone a Zeedex?" Kate scoffs at the idea, gesturing to the screen behind her, where a late-night talk show host expresses her skepticism, "They're using this to control us and monitor us. And microwave our brains. I am anti-Zeedex!"

The Doctor, in response, asks you to help him with his coat. You take it from him and neatly place it on a chair. He then stands next to Shirley and suggests, "Can we filter this wavelength? Lose the background noise."

Shirley hums in response, typing away on her keyboard, "Uh-huh. Gives us a strong coherent wave in seizure focus. Peaking seven times."

As you consider the recent events, you voice your thoughts, "So, this started two days ago. But why then? What else happened on that day?" Kate responds, "Exactly. We've been looking for a trigger, and there's this."

The screen illuminates with the image of a satellite gracefully orbiting the Earth, accompanied by detailed blueprints on the left side. Kate elucidates, "The KOSAT 5 satellite, launched by South Korea, activated two days ago.”

Shirley, with a swift gesture, adds to the explanation by displaying a live feed of the satellite, which hovers 36,000 kilometers above Earth. Kate expounds further, “KOSAT is the final link in the chain. The world is now 100% online. From the highest mountain to the deepest valley on Earth, everyone is connected.”

"But KOSAT is clean. We’ve checked and double-checked. It’s not like the old Archangel Network. There’s nothing hiding in that signal." Shirley asserts, and the Doctor, with a contemplative hum, adds, “And yet.” He shakes his head, “For the first time in history, everyone has access to this.” He taps on the edge of one of the monitors, saying, “A screen.”

"What if it’s a tune?" Donna asks, prompting you and the Doctor to turn around and face her.

"What?" The Doctor inquires as you move to stand in front of her. Donna continues, "I know we’ve only got minutes left to live, but give me a second." Donna begins to draw lines on a clipboard with a piece of paper as she explains, "Because I spent six months teaching my daughter how to play the recorder till she said, ‘This is not who I am.’ That was the start of a whole other conversation, believe you me.”

She places the sheet of paper on the screen, drawing dots on the corresponding line, “But if… you look at these seven peaks, like this…”

She flips the sheet of paper around, revealing what you recognize to be music notes, and Donna confirms this by saying, “Maybe it's music.”

“A classic arpeggio. Middle C, an octave higher.” Mel says before she sings in arpeggio, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

“Oh.” Kate says as if she remembers something, and you look around to see others having the same reaction, as if they’ve heard it before. You and the Doctor look around and ask, “What? What is it?”

Mel repeats her tune, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

Donna gasps, her eyes slightly watering and her blue eyes shining as she says, “I know that tune.”

“I-I know that from somewhere. What are the notes?” Shirley asks, spinning her chair to face you, and you read them off, “C, E, G, C, G, E, C. It’s a musical palindrome.” Then you sigh, “But it’s just a straightforward arpeggio. Everyone knows arpeggios.”

“It’s a basic tune. So, the question is, why are we all reacting to this one?” Mel asks as everyone looks around at each other. You and the Doctor frown, and he says, “We’re not. The Vlinx?”

“Negative.” The Vlinx replies promptly, and you hum out loud, “Just the humans.”

“It’s just— It’s so familiar. It’s like it’s been buried in my head for years.” Donna says and groans, “What is it?”

Then you hear giggling from across the room, a nearby station. You and the Doctor turn to see Shirley pointing to her screen, a puppet in black and white display as she says, “I found the exact same notes.”

The puppet begins to laugh in arpeggio, and you and the Doctor realize it at the same time. The Doctor says, “Oh, it’s not a tune. It’s a laugh.”

“It’s a puppet.” Kate says as she stares wide-eyed at the screen featuring the puppet.

“The giggle in everyone’s head.” You say as you stand behind Shirley, looking at the monitor as it continues to laugh in the arpeggio notes.

“What is that thing?” Donna asks, and Shirley explains, “Stooky Bill, the first face ever to appear on television. Put there by John Logie Baird himself.”

Donna shakes her head and points at Stooky displayed on the monitor, “I’ve never seen him before, so how do— How do I know that laugh?”

You blink a few times before realizing out loud, saying, “If the very first image has been hiding in every screen since… sneaking into your head, carving a wave, and waiting…”

“But hiding how? If there were secret pictures hiding in every television, we would have found it,” Shirley asks, so sure of herself and UNIT’s capabilities. The Doctor then sassily and in a mocking tone replies, “Oh, why? Because you’re so clever? Maybe Stooky Bill’s a lot smarter than you.” Shirley raises her eyebrows and puckers her lips, somewhat agreeing to the possibility.

“Imagine… if he burnt himself into television itself and every picture ever since, every single one.” You say before taking out your sonic screwdriver, pointing to one of the monitors, and clicking the button. It whizzes, and the image of Stooky Bill appears. The woman who sat by that desk pushes back her chair in shock, and he is mockingly laughing as you hear the notes in the air.

“Screen… after screen, after screen.” You use your sonic screwdriver, tapping on each station's monitor, revealing Stooky Bill as it continues to reverberate its laughs.

The Doctor joins in, using his sonic on an employee’s phone in their hands. He says as he clicks his sonic screwdriver, “And every type of screen.” The Doctor taps on Kate’s tablet, showing the image of Stooky Bill. He says, “Every one and everywhere. He’s inside ‘em all!”

You move to stand in the very front of the room, center, pointing your sonic at the large screens. “And two days ago, he finally connected worldwide, branding his Giggle into your brains.” The sonic screwdriver warbles, and images of Stooky Bill, along with his laugh, appear on the large monitor.

The Doctor stands by your side, adding in a low voice, “Since the very first existence of television. Laughing at the human race. And driving you mad.”

The entire group gathers for a small meeting by the large metal doors that lead to the helipad outside. You stand in a circle, positioned by the Doctor’s side, his glasses tucked away in his pocket. Kate tries to grasp the newfound knowledge as she asks, “But something at that scale, over so many years, who could do that?”

The Doctor's countenance turns wrathful, and you sense the heat and intensity radiating from his body as he retorts, "The puppet’s just a puppet. We’re looking for the puppeteer." He then pauses, taking a deep breath that puffs out his chest as he crosses his arms. Speaking with a low intensity, he adds, "And I’ve got a memory. I think something’s coming back… after a very long time."

Raising his voice to address everyone, he grits his teeth, "But it’s not only the giggle. Don’t go thinking you’ve got an excuse. The human race might be clever and bright and brilliant." His words are delivered with a hint of disgust, "But it’s also savage and venal and relentless."

The Doctor points to the screens showcasing people causing havoc around the world as he vehemently declares, "All the anger out there on the street. The lies, the righteousness." Jabbing a finger at the rest of the group, he continues, "That’s human. That’s you. That’s who you are. Using you’re intelligence to be stupid. Poisoning the world. And hating each other, you’ve never needed any help with that!”

He briefly pauses, toning down his voice as he says, “But today, something else is using your worst attributes. Playing with you. Like toys.” A chill runs down your spine as a distant memory starts to resurface, hinting at an old-time foe returning to wreak havoc. You blink, a hunch forming about who might be orchestrating all of the catastrophe.

“Can we take that satellite out?” The Doctor asks Kate, and she replies promptly, “All missiles are on lockdown, but we’ve got the Galvanic Beam.”

“What range?” You inquire, and Kate explains, “We could pick off a pebble on the moon. Trouble is, taking out a South Korean satellite will have international consequences, so we’ve been waiting for permission. All world leaders are being affected by the Giggle.”

The Doctor nods and says, “You have my permission.” He then looks to you, and you deeply sigh, nodding, “And you have mine.”

Kate nods to Colonel Ibrahim, signaling to get the Galvanic Beam ready. Then, she turns to you and the Doctor, “Thank you, Doctor and Stargazer.” Kate moves past you, announcing to the entire UNIT staff on the floor, “Gold protocol override. All staff, initiate Galvanic activation. Bring up the beam.”

“Platform in motion,” an employee's voice echoes through the speaker as the platform outside the tower shifts downward.

“Shirley, have we got the exact date that Logie Baird made that transmission?” The Doctor asks aloud, to which Shirley responds with determination, “I’ll find it,” and begins clicking away on her keyboard.

“All clear on the helipad,” another employee announces over the speaker as The Doctor walks over to Mel’s station, and you make your way towards Shirley, beginning to help her locate the date of the transmission.

The Doctor leans over Mel’s shoulder, and she says to him, “I fed the KOSAT fake coordinates, so it’s coming into UK orbit. Within range in three minutes.” The Doctor compliments her, “You’re brilliant.” He then looks at her with a smile, “Hello.” Mel replies with her own smile, the kind that reaches her eyes as she says, “Hi.”

You glance over to see the Doctor and Mel chatting as they work, and a sense of happiness and comfort washes over you, knowing Mel is okay. After a few minutes, you hear Mel announce to everyone, “Galvanic Beam payload boarding.”

“Platform locking at level 55,” an employee announces over the intercom, and Mel continues, “Galvanic Beam in position. KOSAT in range in 90 seconds.”

A beep emanates from Shirley’s computer, and your eyes quickly scan over the words before Shirley turns her head and says to the Doctor, “Doctor, Stooky Bill was televised on the 2nd of October 1925 at 22 Frith Street, Soho, W1D 4RF.”

You grab the Doctor’s coat from the chair and hand it to him as he says to Kate, “Fire when ready. Don’t wait for us.” He then looks to Colonel Ibrahim, quickly asking, “TARDIS?”

The Colonel points as he replies promptly, “Suite 17.”

The Doctor grunts, “Okay.” After putting on his coat, he grabs your hand, pulling you along with him as Donna says to you both, “You’re not going without me.”

As you enter the suite and find the TARDIS parked there, the Doctor quickly unlocks it with his key and rushes inside, with you and Donna trailing right behind him. Time’s running out, always running out, and every road you discover disappears under your feet. Because if nothing else, you're given a little time to change the game, a chance to redefine everything.

SOHO — 1925

The TARDIS whooshes and whizzes, finally giving a loud thud as it lands. The Doctor opens the door first, popping his head out to check if it’s safe before allowing you and Donna to step out into the dimly lit alley where the TARDIS is parked. The flickering gas lamps cast a warm glow, highlighting the cobblestone street and the faint echoes of distant chatter.

The Doctor announces to the two of you, “Soho, 1925.”

“So, what about Mel?” Donna asks, wiggling her eyebrows playfully at the two of you. You let out a chuckle, saying, “She’s brilliant, isn’t she?”

Donna laughs with a smile, “Yeah, but I just kept thinking, all this time, you’ve never mentioned her.”

The Doctor addresses Donna with a frown, “Donna, we’re a billion years old. If we stood and talked about everyone we’d ever met, we’d still be in the TARDIS yapping.”

“So you talk about no one ever?” Donna asks, and you look away guiltily. Donna continues, “You just keep charging on.”

“Yes, because I’m busy. Like now,” the Doctor replies.

“But you are busy every second of every day. I mean, look at us now. We haven’t stopped,” Donna points out, and you all come to a halt by the sidewalk. She continues, “I saw you, Doctor. I got a glimpse inside your mind.” The three of you stand on the sidewalk, surrounded by the ambient sounds of 1925 London, as Donna expresses, “And it’s like you’re staggering. You are staggering along. Maybe that’s why your old face came back. You’re wearing yourself out.”

You observe as the Doctor contemplates her words, his expression revealing a momentary reflection on her insight. However, he doesn't directly acknowledge them. Instead, he smoothly shifts the topic, saying, "Stooky Bill might be on Frith Street, but the question is, where did Stooky Bill come from?”

His gaze shifts to the bright red shop on the street labeled Mr. Emporium above the store. The three of you cross the street, anticipation building as you peek through the window. There, you spot someone engaged in a playful exchange with the Doctor, both figures playing peek-a-boo before the mysterious man expertly hops down to conceal himself. The Doctor's expression tightens with anger as he forcefully shoves the door open, pulling back the maroon curtains, and the three of you step into the enchanting toy store.

The atmosphere is filled with wonder and a touch of nostalgia as you take in the whimsical surroundings. Shelves adorned with a myriad of toys, each telling a story of childhood innocence and imagination. The air is scented with a mix of wooden toys, plush animals, and the faint fragrance of freshly painted models.

As you step further into the store, your disbelief intensifies as you recognize the man orchestrating this peculiar encounter. An old foe, one who could have channeled his creativity for good, yet chose to warp reality into a twisted game where play meant suffering for others. Dressed in a crisp white button-up and a vibrant red apron, he skillfully juggles three balls, his voice carrying a distinct German accent as he addresses you, "Die ball is die first game ever being invented."

He throws a ball towards you, only for the Doctor to swiftly intercept it before it makes contact with your stomach. Without missing a beat, the Doctor tosses it away onto the ground. Meanwhile, the man behind the counter continues his mesmerizing juggling act, sharing his narrative, "Stone Age man, he picked up ein rock." The Doctor catches another ball skillfully, and with a nonchalant toss, sends it away.

The rhythmic cadence of his speech, accompanied by the mesmerizing flow of his juggling, weaves an enchanting atmosphere within the toy store. The balls dance through the air, tracing whimsical patterns, adding a touch of magic to the man's storytelling. With a gleam in his eye, he continues narrating, "He said, ‘Oh! Das ist ein Ball.’"

The sequence of throw and catch becomes a rhythmic ballet, each movement a beat in the peculiar symphony unfolding before you. "He threw it, und he killed a man," he declares with a dramatic flair, followed by a nonchalant toss.

Another cycle of throw and catch commences, and he recounts, "He said, ‘Oh, what fun!’" The balls move effortlessly in the air, and the ambiance resonates with a sense of playfulness.

"Und now, everybody loves the balls," he proclaims, the balls gliding through the air in a mesmerizing display. Every throw, catch, and toss adds to the building tension in the tale.

"Until the year five billion. When the very last human picks up the skull of his enemy," he declares, the tone shifting slightly, yet maintaining the captivating rhythm. The balls continue their dance, and he winks as he concludes, "Und said, ‘That is the final ball of all,’ jah?"

As he tosses another ball, the vibrant atmosphere in the toy store takes a sudden turn when Donna, with a determined air, steps forward and effortlessly catches the ball with a single hand. Her gaze, firm and unyielding, pierces through the whimsical scene as she asserts, "Enough."

The man behind the counter raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Donna Noble. I wondered which one of you had the balls," he retorts, his words carrying a playful undertone. Donna, taken aback, attempts to brush it off with a casual, "Okay. So you know my name?" The man, still smirking, raises both eyebrows in response.

Curiosity sparking, Donna seeks answers. "How do you three know each other?" she questions, her tone holding a mix of suspicion and intrigue. In response, the Doctor, donning a low, stern tone and a deep frown that accentuates the lines on his face, issues a command, "Star, Donna, go back to the TARDIS." The urgency in his voice hints at a deeper concern, urging them to retreat from the unfolding confrontation.

Donna, wearing a perplexed expression, seeks clarification, "What?"

The Doctor, frustration evident in his gritted teeth, reiterates his command, "Go back to the TARDIS."

You, however, defiantly shake your head. "As much as I love you bossing me around, you do not get to tell me to leave you here with him." The tension in the air thickens, with unspoken concerns lingering between all of you.

"Oh, but he is recognizing me," he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You whip your head back to the man behind the counter, the one who revels in tricks and games for sheer amusement. Chaos and discord personified, he continues, "Are you not 'ge-pleased,' Herr Doctor und Stargazer, to see me again after so many years?"

Donna, finally seeking clarity, asks, "Who is he?" Flashbacks of memories flood your mind.

The Doctor answers, "The Toymaker." As the realization sinks in, the atmosphere in the room starts to change.

The Toymaker gives a bow, a theatrical flourish that befits his whimsical yet ominous presence. Abruptly changing accents, he addresses with a menacing tone, "We meet again, Doctor, Stargazer."

But just as swiftly, the Toymaker's demeanor undergoes a shift. Stepping backward, he adopts a German accent, prompting curiosity. "But think, if the ball was the very first game, what was the second?"

With a mischievous grin, he seizes both ends of the curtain behind him and declares, "Hide-and-seek!" The Toymaker pulls the curtain shut, his laughter echoing in the room in those distinctive arpeggio notes.

The Doctor vaults over the counter, deftly pushing aside the two curtains, only to discover the Toymaker's disappearance. Behind the curtains lies a door, and with a quick turn of the copper-colored knob, the Doctor reveals a seemingly endless hallway. Warm-toned lights bathe the corridor in a gentle glow, wooden floorboards creak, and numerous doors line both sides of the mysterious passage.

As the Doctor steps forward, guided by an instinct you and Donna share, the door abruptly slams shut behind both of you. Turning sharply, the Doctor commands, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Go back.” With a quick twist of the doorknob, it should logically lead you out, but instead, it reveals the same seemingly endless hallway. Donna, her mouth agape, exclaims, “It’s bigger than the shop. Don’t tell me he’s got his own TARDIS.”

“The TARDIS is an idea the Toymaker would throw away,” the Doctor spits out with disdain as you three stride down the hallway. He continues, “We’ve stepped inside his domain, and it’s governed by the rules of play.” The Doctor turns to the door on his left, confidently opening it. Donna and you follow him, but just as the door slams shut, you find yourselves still trapped in the long, mysterious hallway.

“Okay. Keep going forward,” the Doctor instructs, stepping ahead with you and Donna in tow. Donna, perplexed, shakes her head and remarks, “But how does this even make sense? 'Cause I’ve seen some things with you two. I’ve seen Ood, Davros. I mean, the Adipose, for God’s sake.”

The Doctor twists another doorknob, taking a chance with the door to his left, only for it to transport you three back into the hallway. Donna continues, “But they had a sort of logic. Daleks built a great big bomb. I understood that. But this— this is impossible. How does it exist?”

The Doctor grits his teeth, growling, “That’s what unravels me. All the laws I cling to, gone.” He spins, opening another door only to lead you three back into the hallway. Moving to the opposite door, he finds it locked and slams his palm against the wood in frustration before pressing on down the hall.

Donna moves closer to you two and asks, “Who is the Toymaker? What is he?”

The Doctor turns to face Donna, explaining, “When I was young, I was so sure of myself. I made a terrible mistake. I let the TARDIS fall into another realm.” The Doctor opens a door, and you follow him as he continues, “A hollow beneath the Under Universe, where science is a game and all of us are toys.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. "It's also how the Stargazer ended up with us, but that's something I will never regret." You softly remark, "A rift in the universe..." The Doctor quickly kisses your forehead, saying, "And it brought me you, my love."

After a moment, the Doctor struggles with another stubborn door, wiggling the doorknob in frustration. "I beat the Toymaker. I won his game, but now he's here. He's found his way into reality."

As he opens the door to the right, leading the three of you back into the hallway, he stills and sighs. "And I think it's all because of me."

You exchange a glance with the Doctor, shaking your head in disagreement. However, before you can utter a word, he cuts you off, his gaze intense. "'Cause I got clever, didn't I? I cast that salt at the edge of the universe. Thought I could have it all," he admits, his eyes locked onto yours. "I thought I could finally have you. I played a game and let him in, an elemental force with the power of a god, and he’s driven the human race mad with a puppet.”

Donna begins, “Yeah, but you always say—” the Doctor shakes his head and mockingly replies as he walks backward down the hall raising his voice, “Oh, what do I say? What do I say? What do I say?”

“‘Cause I’m always so certain. I’m all sonic and TARDIS and Time Lord. Take that away.” The Doctor says and defeatedly shrugs, “Take away the toys. What am I?” He chokes a little as his eyes glaze over, repeating, “What am I now?”

The Doctor looks to you and Donna as he offers a variation of the truth, “I don’t know if I can save your life this time.” The vulnerability in his voice echoes through the corridor, a stark departure from his usual confident demeanor.

Donna raises her eyebrows, her gaze shifting between you and the Doctor. “It’s not about me,” she asserts.

You meet Donna's gaze and respond, “Oh, yes, it is.”

With a nonchalant shrug and a deep breath, Donna begins, “Well,” and then she steps a little forward, flashing a determined smile, “Maybe I’ll save you, you big idiot.” Through the perplexing hallway, the chatter reverberates with a mixture of warmth and friendliness as you all chuckle.

"Anyway, you beat him before," Donna points out, and the Doctor wears a contemplative frown. "That’s the problem. Odd-on I’ll lose next time."

Donna dismisses the notion with a shake of her head. "Nope. Doesn’t work like that. Because my dad used to say, ‘Dice didn’t know what the dice did last time.’ Games don’t have a memory. Every game starts from scratch."

After a moment of letting the words settle, the Doctor nods with a genuine smile. "Oh, I like that. Well said, Dad." He takes a deep breath before suggesting, "Okay. Shall we find the right door?"

The Doctor swiftly dashes to one of the doors, opening them one after the other. You and Donna struggle to keep up, the anticipation heightening. Suddenly, one of the heavy doors slams shut behind Donna, separating you from her. Then the door in front of Donna slams shut, also separating her from the Doctor, the echoes of the closing door lingering in the air. 

You sense your fingernails biting into the palm of your hand, forming a tight fist as you strike the door with the side of your fists. An exasperated cry escapes your lips as you press your forehead against the wooden door. You shut your eyes, tears trickling down your cheeks. Slowly, you lower your hands to your sides, then raise them, placing them at the back of your neck in an attempt to regain composure.

You take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs before releasing it in a resounding exhale. Pushing away from the door, you continue down the corridor. A distinct pull guides you to a door on the right. Twisting the knob, you pull the door open and step into a room filled with standing mirrors encased in plastic frames. As you survey the surroundings, the door slams shut behind you, making you flinch and glance back.

Turning your head forward, you're met with various incarnations of the Doctor—past and present—alongside friends and companions, all staring back at you through the mirrors. Their gaze penetrates through you. The mirrors shift, forming two opposing lines, resembling portraits guiding you towards a solitary dresser and a seat. On the creaky wooden floors, you move delicately, feeling like a doll as the eyes of your own reflections track your every step down the mirrored pathway.

You eventually reach the dresser, and the seat smoothly pulls out from underneath it. Hesitant, you lower yourself onto it, only to find that your own reflection is not what greets you. Instead, it's the Toymaker, wearing a smug expression as he says, “Ah, yes, the Stargazer. Oh, how I’ve missed you, old friend.”

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows, “If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”

The Toymaker’s expression shifts to a sour one as his face scrunches up, “We were friends, we had such wonderful games in our little dollhouse until the Doctor stole you away from me.”

You shake your head as you say sternly, “He didn’t take me away from you.”

The Toymaker childishly rolls his eyes as he also crosses his arms, “Admit it. You were happy. Happier to be blissfully unaware of who you are when we were in our universe.”

You shake your head as you feel your eyes glaze over, pressing your lips, trying to steady your breathing. Softly, you spoke, “You were controlling me. You were trying to mold me into something… that had to be exceptional to be worthwhile.”

You sniff as you continue, “You never cared about me or any of it. You only wanted to play your games and win. And the one time I won… I saw your true nature and never let me out of that box.”

You gaze directly into the Toymaker's eyes, inquiring, “How? How did you end up here?”

He tilts his head and smiles, “The Doctor may have cast that salt, but that was just the door. You being here, allowing yourself to exist in this reality, my dear, you were the key. The Doctor merely provided the key, and voila. Here I am.”

The Toymaker shifts before he hums and then says nonchalantly, “Well, this was so much fun… us two friends catching up. We should do this more often.”

You narrow your eyes as you shake your head, “Don’t you dare hurt them.”

The Toymaker grins, “Well, what’s the fun in that?”

The room around you seems to blur as a heaviness settles in your chest, the weight of your choices and the consequences of your time with the Toymaker bearing down on you. The mirrors that once reflected various versions of yourself, your friends, and the Doctor now seem to mock your vulnerability.

Your face shifts to anger as you grab your sonic screwdriver, raise it to the mirror, and press the button, causing the illusion to shatter. There is no glass in the mirror because, on the other side of it, is you—freed from the false reflections that sought to define you.

You rise from your seat, hastening as the glass mirrors rupture behind you, fragments and shards soaring through the air. Grabbing the doorknob, you wrench the door open, hurtling into the hallway just as the door behind you slams shut.

Anticipating the impact of the hard hallway floor, you're surprised to find yourself enveloped in sturdy arms, the familiar texture of the Doctor’s coat reassuring. "Whoa! Darling, there you are," he exclaims.

Speechless, you encircle him with your arms, finding solace in the warmth he provides. He eases back, cradling the side of your head, and you yield to the touch, trying to ground yourself in the reassurance that you're still alive, still breathing. Life may have presented challenges, love may have left its mark, and certain experiences may have etched an ache in your soul, yet, you survived.

The Doctor scans your face and says, “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong? What happened? Did he hurt you?”

You sniffle as you shake your head frantically, “No, I’m just… I’m sorry.”

The Doctor frowns, “What for?”

“It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.”

“No. I cast that salt—”

“Yes, but since I’m here, in this reality. I allowed him to exist here as well. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

The Doctor pulls you in closer, tightly wrapping his arms around your frame as he asks, “Did he tell you that?”

You merely make a squeak as you nod into his chest, “It makes sense—”

“No. It’s— I refuse to believe it. I won’t.”

You began, “But—”

The Doctor pauses, his gaze softening, and he says, “No, my love. It's not your fault. Don't let his games mess with your mind. We'll figure this out together.”

You let go of your ghosts and your worries for once. It was just one step, but it said plenty. That you've been cut off from the outside world for such a large portion of your existence dawns on you. That you devoted so much of your life to a version of existence that was cut off from believing in the good and the beautiful as a means of survival, that you tried so hard to shield yourself from the love you so desperately needed.

You knew that you wouldn’t find a love that was perfect, but you found a love that was real. The kind that sees you and brings down your walls, that asks you to share parts of your soul you have tucked away and kept hidden from the world.

Suddenly, the creak of another door opening startles both of you, prompting a swift turn of your heads. Your heart skips a beat as you spot your fiery-haired friend. You exclaim, “Donna!”

“Oh, my god!” Donna exclaims, and the Doctor responds, “There you are!” As you eagerly move forward to embrace Donna, the room undergoes a rapid metamorphosis, transforming into a puppeteer theatre, with the Toymaker standing at its center.

Fanfare resonates in the background through concealed speakers as the Toymaker speaks in German, “Kommen Sie, kommen sie!”

Three chairs materialize from behind you, smoothly rolling forward and obliging you to take a seat upon them as they advance towards where the Toymaker stands.

"The show is just beginning. Worldwide premiere," the Toymaker announces, vanishing momentarily only to reappear behind the puppet theatre at the center. He addresses Donna Noble, "This is for you. Let me tell you what happened when the Doctor, he was leaving you."

Lifting the cross brace of the string puppet, he continues, "He met a friend called Amy Pond. And he loved Amy Pond." The strings sway as he manipulates the Amy puppet. "Yes, he be liking die redheads." A playful wink is followed by, "And they went to and fro in time und space."

The Toymaker's tone darkens as he narrates, "But Amy Pond was touched by the Weeping Angel. And she died." He grabs a large pair of scissors, severing the strings of the puppet, rendering it limp and lifeless.

The Doctor's expression turns grim and angry as he grits his teeth, "She died of old age."

Quickly shifting to an American accent, the Toymaker mockingly remarks, "Well, that’s alright then."

Continuing in his vibrant German accent, the Toymaker orchestrates the descent of a new puppet onto the stage, "Und then he was meeting Clara. Mmm." He adds, "But she was killed by a bird." Another snip of the strings leaves the puppet limp and lifeless.

The Doctor growls, "She still survives in her last second of life."

"Well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker replies in his mocking American accent.

The Toymaker continues in his vibrant German accent, placing another puppet on the stage, "Und then the Doctor met Bill." Strings are pulled as he continues, "Not Stooky Bill, but lady Bill. But she was killed by the Cybermen." With a snip, the puppet falls to the floor, lifeless.

The Doctor's lip trembles, jaw set, as he asserts in a raised tone, "But her consciousness survives."

"Oh, well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker retorts once more in his mocking American accent. He then transitions to a new scene with stars and planets descending, connected with strings. Cutting the strings, he comments with feigned remorse, "Und then there came die Flux. Oh, Donna Noble, the poor Doctor." The Toymaker continues to sever the strings attached to the planets, remarking, "Die Flux was killing everything."

"Is all of this true?" Donna asks in disbelief, leaving you frozen and unsure of what to do or say.

The Doctor abruptly stands up, his gaze locked onto the Toymaker's eyes as he lowers his tone, the gruffness evident, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's expression drops, his nostrils flare, and he strides toward the table. The Doctor meets him at the other end, and they lock eyes, a tense silence enveloping them.

The two of them settle into seats across from each other as the Toymaker mysteriously conjures a deck of cards. In a refined British accent, he declares, “I accept the challenge.”

The Doctor retorts, “You have no choice.”

With an air of a magician, the Toymaker skillfully shuffles the deck of cards, his hands moving with deliberate precision. "I came to this universe with such delight, and I played them all, Doctor." The Toymaker lays down the cards in a line, maintaining his magical flair. "I toyed with supernovas, turned galaxies into spinning tops."

He holds the two halves of the deck and continues, "I gambled with God and made him a jack-in-the-box." Flipping the cards, he shuffles the deck, his eyes locked onto the Doctor's. "I made a jigsaw out of your history. Did you like it?"

"The Master was dying and begged for his life with one final game. And when he lost, I sealed him for all eternity inside my gold tooth." The Toymaker says, a sly smile accompanying the gesture to his shiny gold tooth. However, his tone turns grave and haunted as he continues, "There’s only one player I didn’t dare face. The one who waits."

Both you and the Doctor furrow your brows, and the Doctor questions, “Who’s that?”

The Toymaker's gaze becomes distant as he recalls, “I saw it. Hiding. And I ran.”

“What do you mean?” The Doctor presses, and the Toymaker shakes his head, “Mmm. That’s someone else’s game.” Placing the deck of cards neatly on the table, he asks, “What shall we play?”

“One request. Tell me,” The Doctor starts, his tone curious, “The human race, back in the future. Why does everyone think they’re right?”

The Toymaker smirks knowingly and replies, “So that they win. I made every opinion supreme. That’s the game of the 21st century. They shout, they type, and they cancel. So I fixed it. Now everybody wins.”

“And everyone loses,” you remark, your eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. The Toymaker smiles, acknowledging the truth, “The never-ending game.” He then turns to the Doctor, prompting, “Now name your challenge.”

“The simplest game of all. Let’s cut,” the Doctor proposes, and the Toymaker grins, “Highest card wins.”

“Aces high,” the Doctor asserts.

“You choose,” the Toymaker replies.

“I’ll go first,” the Doctor declares.

Then Donna interjects, “But he’ll cheat.”

You, the Toymaker, and the Doctor quickly disagree, simultaneously stating, “No.” The Toymaker's face turns sour, offended by the accusation, “Shame.”

“That’s the one thing he won’t do,” the Doctor asserts, and Donna points out, “But they’re his cards. He’s all tricks. Of course, he’ll cheat.”

You then explain, “The only rules the Toymaker follows are the rules of the game. They bind his entire existence. The Doctor wins or he loses, and that’s it.”

The Toymaker glowers at the Doctor as he says, “Then play.”

The Doctor seizes the top deck of cards, turning it to reveal the Eight of Clubs. A sinking feeling creeps into the pit of your stomach as you calculate the odds, not liking the prospects for the Doctor.

The Toymaker raises an eyebrow with a smug expression, “My turn.” He grabs a portion of the deck, turning it to reveal the King of Hearts. Gripping the sides of your chair, you feel a sense of dread as the Toymaker laughs, “I’m the King.”

Switching back to his German accent, he declares excitedly, “Und now, meine kleine Doctor, we will see what is my prize!”

The Doctor responds, “One… all.”

A light laugh of relief escapes you, realizing the Doctor had a backup plan in case he lost. Leaning across the table, the Doctor's words make the Toymaker's expression drop, “I won the game many years ago. You’ve won today, which leaves us equal. And you know two players are bound by one inviolable rule.”

The Toymaker sneers as he begrudgingly admits, “Best of three.”

The Doctor nods, “Best of three.”

The Toymaker purses his lips in annoyance, narrowing his eyes before saying, “Then let’s make it 2023.” He suddenly pulls a curtain from the side, quickly vanishing as the red velvet cloth clatters to the floor. The room transforms, and you hear the creaking of wood.

Both you and the Doctor exclaim, “Donna!”

Donna has already sprung from her chair, responding, “I’m already running!”

As you run, the structure behind you collapses in on itself, the scratching and groaning of wood as it folds in the hallway. Eventually, you make it out of the shop, running into the streets and stopping from across the street to see the entire building fold itself neatly into a box on the ground.

Donna points out, "He said 2023," and the Doctor responds as his chest puffs out a breath, "Winner takes all."

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Once the TARDIS had landed, you and Donna hurriedly followed the Doctor, who carried the box containing the Toymaker's shop. As you reached the main area of operations, the Doctor placed the red box on Melanie's desk and instructed, "Keep an eye on that."

Stepping up on one of the desks, the Doctor addressed everyone in a loud tone, "The satellite was only a link in the chain, so Donna needs access to the subframe. There is no one in London faster on a keyboard. She’s creating a template for this." He produced a flash drive and explained, "It coordinates all telescopes and satellites and deep-space scans across the Earth." Tossing the flash drive to Shirley, who deftly caught it.

Turning to the Vlinx, the Doctor requested, "The Vlinx, I need all mesh reflectors on Earth translated to digital five."

As Donna worked on the keyboard, Mel replied to Donna's question, "Dynamic. We’re using triad."

Donna nodded in understanding, typing rapidly, "Got ya. Okay, so you should all be receiving this now."

"How bad is it, Doctor, Star?" Kate asked with concern. The Doctor responded with a warning tone, "Something entered this world in 1925. I don’t know how. And I warn you, this thing can get from 1925 to now like stepping through a door."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and continued, "But if we’re lucky, the program the Stargrazer created can detect the decay of an energy signature from 98 years ago. Might be on Earth. Might be in orbit. Might be in space. But if we can find the entrance, maybe we can turn it into an exit."

"What are we fighting?" Kate asked, and you responded grimly, "An elemental force beyond the rules of the universe."

Shirley then inquired with a puzzled tone, "What’s that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor gave her a look and explained, "You think life is a balance between order and chaos, but the universe is not binary." As the Spice Girls' "Spice Up Your Life" began playing from somewhere, he continued, "Far from it. There is order and chaos, and then there is play." Pointing to the ceiling, he asked, "What’s that?"

"Could you turn that off, please?" Kate requested, and Melanie, standing from her chair, asked, "Who is that?"

The Doctor groaned, "Oh, I think he’s here."

The Toymaker entered the scene like a Broadway hurricane, dressed as a band leader with his hair curled and styled. A door suddenly appearing with the bell jingling as he strutted forward. Confetti popped, lights flashed, and the Toymaker lip-synced to the Spice Girls' song playing from an unknown location.

"When you're feelin' sad and low

We will take you where you gotta go"

The door materialized behind you, the bell jingling as the Toymaker stepped out, dancing and lifting his hat, grooving to the music. You and the Doctor stood there, unimpressed, wearing a fed-up expression.

The Toymaker, immersed in the infectious beats of the Spice Girls, continued his impromptu performance. With infectious enthusiasm, he teleported across various areas of the headquarters, seamlessly syncing his lip movements to the lyrics of the song. His dance was a spectacle of exaggerated expressions, capturing the vibrant spirit of the Spice Girls' anthem.

As the music echoed through the room, the Toymaker made flamboyant movements, teleporting next to Shirley. With flair, he held up a phone, lip-syncing passionately to the lyrics.

"Smilin', dancin', everything is free

All you need is positivity"

The Toymaker's energetic dance moves and lively expressions added a surreal touch to the otherwise serious atmosphere of the operation.

“Colours of the world

Spice up your life”

Teleporting with theatrical finesse, he continued his spirited performance, engaging with the song's upbeat tempo.

“Every boy and every girl

Spice up your life”

The Toymaker, a delightful force of whimsy, twirled and danced with infectious energy, infusing the tension-filled room with an unexpected burst of joy.

“People of the world

Spice up your life

Aah

Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front

Ha ha (uh uh)

Go round”

With each step, he appeared and disappeared, dancing effortlessly to the rhythm. In a sudden move, the Toymaker materialized next to Kate, seamlessly incorporating her into his lively dance. However, the exuberant twirl proved too much, and Kate, spun too fast, and collided with a wall.

Undeterred, the Toymaker vanished and reappeared beside Melanie, pulling her into an impromptu dance as UNIT soldiers point their weapon at him.

“Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front”

The Toymaker spun Melanie like a spinning top, prompting your alarmed cry, "Melanie!" Both you and the Doctor rushed to her aid as she tumbled to the ground, the unexpected dance taking an unforeseen turn.

"La la la la la la la la la

La la la la la la la"

Kate regains her composure, brushing off her slacks with a determined air as she commands the UNIT soldiers, "Detain him!"

In response, a contingent of UNIT soldiers swiftly advances, attempting to apprehend the whimsical Toymaker. The Doctor's warning echoes in the air, “No, don’t!” However, defying the Doctor's urgent plea, the Toymaker playfully taps the soldiers, transforming them into vibrant, bouncing balls that clatter across the floor.

"What happened to them?" Kate urgently inquires, and you, wearing a grimace, shake your head, "They're dead. I'm sorry. Just stop it. Let me talk to him."

The Toymaker confidently struts down the center aisle among the stations, seizing the attention of everyone. Kate seizes the opportunity and commands the remaining UNIT soldiers, "On my command, open fire!"

"Take him out, take him out!"

Despite the barrage of gunfire from the UNIT troops, the bullets magically transform into a cascade of delicate rose petals, scattering around the office in a surreal display. The Toymaker, reveling in the chaos, gleefully glances atop a table as more rose petals dance in the air.

"Yellow man in Timbuktu

Colourful, both me and you

Kung Fu fighting, dancing queen

Tribal spaceman and all that's in between"

Undeterred, more UNIT soldiers step in, brandishing larger firearms. Kate urgently yells, "Get down!" Yet, instead of bullets, they too unleash a storm of rose petals towards the Toymaker, amplifying the confusion and chaos in the headquarters.

Now seated on the floor, the Toymaker whimsically creates a rose petal angel, moving his arms and legs in a playful display as he swims amidst the never-ending fall of petals, still lip-syncing to the song.

"Colours of the world (Spice up your life)

Every boy and every girl (Spice up your life)

People of the world (Spice up your life, ah)"

As the Toymaker gracefully walks away from the floral aftermath, he makes his exit, singing the last part of the song and forming a heart with his hands.

"Hai, sí, ja! Hold tight!"

With a resounding honk, he disappears into the floor, leaving the bewildered onlookers shaken and utterly confused about the bizarre turn of events.

The Doctor swiftly dashes forward, sliding to his knees with palms pressed to the floor in an attempt to catch the Toymaker, yet the space where he once stood appears empty, as if he were an illusion.

While Donna tends to Mel, you approach the Doctor, who rises to his feet. Kate's inquiry breaks the moment, "Doctor, Stargazer, who is he?"

Breathing heavily, you respond, "The Toymaker."

"How does he do that?" Shirley questions from her wheelchair, seeking understanding.

Ignoring the query, the Doctor directs urgently, "The Vlinx, speed up those scans. I need those results." He then turns to the group, nostrils flaring, and commands, "All of you, search the building. He’s still here. Where’s he gone?"

Soldiers take charge, securing the perimeter, while Shirley persists, "But how does he do it?" The Doctor, resolute, explains in a low tone, "If I told you he manipulates atoms with the power of thought, would you believe it?"

Shirley ponders for a moment before responding, "Is that what he does?"

The Doctor shakes his head, "No. You can’t fight him, Shirley. There’s nothing you can do."

A sudden noise interrupts the conversation—a bell tinkling. Hushing everyone, you urge, "Listen. Listen."

The ringing intensifies. Kate steps towards the automatic door leading to the helipad, and you follow suit. There, on the helipad, the Toymaker stands alone, dressed in an aviator outfit, ringing the doorbell. Kate exclaims, "Oh, my God. He’s got the Galvanic Beam." Reacting swiftly, you and the Doctor rush onto the helipad. The Toymaker sits on the chair of the Galvanic Beam, swinging it as he excitedly exclaims in German, "Achtung, Achtung! Backen Sie."

Kate, Donna, Shirley, and Mel, carrying the box, join you on the helipad along with the UNIT soldiers. The Toymaker continues, with his goggles on and his exaggerated German accent, "Oh, how I am liking this, the gun mit the laser und the bang und the boom."

The Doctor turns back to the group, urgently shouting, "Go back inside! Get back, get back!"

The Toymaker, however, dismisses the idea, insisting, "No, no, no, no, no. Every game is ge-needing an audience, ja."

Now it's your turn to raise your voice, "Get back inside!" Yet, the Toymaker, maintaining his defiance, sternly disagrees, "Und I said nein!" He takes aim at the glass higher up the building, shattering it. The team below reacts with startled cries as you and the Doctor shoot furious glares at the Toymaker.

Removing his goggles, the Toymaker switches to a British accent, calmly stating, "Now we can all have some fun."

Kate steps forward, undeterred and unafraid, confronting the Toymaker with a determined gaze. "Where are my staff? The beam had a pilot, and the armourer and the ground staff. Where are they?"

“I think they're still falling,” the Toymaker replies, and then a faint thud in the distance is followed by the sound of glass shattering.

The Doctor bares his teeth, anger etched across his face as he stomps forward and confronts the Toymaker, “I don't understand why you're so small!” The Toymaker’s face shifts into a frown, his features scrunching up as the Doctor continues his impassioned confrontation, “You can turn bullets into flowers. Think of the good you could do. So tell me why you don't!”

The Toymaker responds with resounding sureness, "You know full well this is merely a face concealing a vastness that will never cease, because your good and your bad are nothing to me. All that exists is to win or to lose."

“And you know full well that I've had many faces, containing something far more,” the Doctor begins. You inch closer to him as he grabs your hand, offering the Toymaker a compelling invitation, “So come with us. Leave this tiny world. We can take your games back to the stars. We can play across the cosmos. We can be... Celestial.”

You watch as the Toymaker’s gaze shifts between the two of you, “The Time Lords, and the Toymaker?”

You nod, extending your hand, “Infinite games.”

A moment of anticipation hangs in the air as you hope for his acceptance. However, the Toymaker's expression shifts to one of indifference as he uses the controller of the Galvanic Beam. Turning to survey London, he begins, “And yet…” The soldiers cautiously retreat as the Toymaker observes the destruction and chaos engulfing the city.

“I have fallen in love with humanity. This world is the ultimate playground. All of the sport, the matches, the medals, the gambling, and the anger, and the children shackled to their bedrooms with their joysticks and their buttons. You make games out of bricks falling upon other bricks. You are exceptional,” the Toymaker remarks, and you signal the troops to halt their advance. The Toymaker gasps, “And then there are the mind games. Oh, the dating and ghosting, the deceit and the control. You make me dizzy. I am in no hurry to leave this place.”

He swivels the turret around, a maniacal glint in his eye as he chuckles, “We can play Grandma's Footsteps.” He gleefully fires at the soldiers' feet, forcing them to hastily retreat, "And Off-Ground Touch."

“Ah! Stop, stop, stop, stop!” You plead helplessly as the Toymaker, a sinister smirk on his face, persists in aiming the Galvanic Beam at your companions. He remarks, "Shooting ducks. Who's up next? The companion? The soldier? The scientist? The orphan?"

The Doctor charges ahead, bellowing and thumping his chest defiantly, "Your fight is with me!" The Toymaker directs the beam towards the Doctor, declaring, "And you owe me! One more ga—"

His words abruptly cease as the Toymaker unleashes the Galvanic Beam, piercing through the Doctor's torso. A gut-wrenching scream escapes your lips, and you desperately attempt to rush towards him, only to be forcefully restrained by Donna and Kate. Helplessly, you bear witness to the Doctor's anguished ordeal.

The Toymaker proclaims, “I played the first game with one Doctor. I played the second game with this Doctor. Therefore, your own rules have decreed I play the third game with the next Doctor.” As the beam deactivates, you extricate yourself from Donna and Kate's grasp, hastening to reach your Doctor who has descended to his knees on the ground. Regeneration energy begins to shimmer around him, and you sniffle as you cradle him close, feeling his feeble arm wrap around you.

Tears stream down your face as you murmur, "Hey, hey... I'm right here."

You sense his touch, brushing away your tears as he utters, "Hello, my sweet Stargazer... I’ve been alone for so long. Oh, how I've missed you." A resonant sniff escapes you as you reply, "I'm so sorry. For running. For leaving. For everything, I’m sorry.”

He softly hushes you, "No. None of that. It's not your fault." A wistful smile gently paints his face. "I love you." You release a sob, "I love you too."

"Marry me?" The Doctor proposes, managing to flash you a boyish grin. You can't help but emit a weak laugh, "Right now?"

"Whenever, wherever you like. Just say yes."

"You already know I’d say yes, you idiot!" you retort.

"Say it, please," he murmurs, and you nod as tears continue to fall from your cheeks, "Of course, I'll marry you. I’ll marry you as many times as you want. As many lifetimes as you want."

As the regeneration energy glows brighter, Donna steps forward, yelling loudly to the Toymaker, “He's not dying alone. You can do what you like to me. I'm going to be with them both.”

“And so am I,” Mel declares, setting the box down and approaching the other side of the Doctor along with Donna.

The Toymaker allows it, nodding, “Handmaidens.”

“It's okay,” Donna says, and the Doctor responds, “It's not dying.” Donna nods in understanding, adding, “I know. But…”

Mel smiles as she interjects, “You're going to be someone else. It doesn't matter who because every single one of you is fantastic.”

The Doctor’s eyes glaze as he feels the regeneration energy glow brighter and stronger, surging throughout his body, “It's time. Here we go again. Allons-y!”

The energy fizzles out, and the Doctor hasn't changed his face, leaving you all blinking in confusion as he lets out an, “Um.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows as Donna asks, “What... What's happening?”

Looking to you, the Doctor asks in an even more confused tone, “Could you... pull?”

With your mouth agape and wide-eyed, you inquire, “Could I... what?” The Doctor looks to Mel and Donna to his left, saying, “And you.”

“What do you mean?” Mel asks, and the Doctor blinks as stands up and replies, “Pull! Just pull each way. I don't know. It feels different this time.” The three of you begin to pull in each way, and the Doctor exclaims, “Ow! Oh.”

Regeneration surges and flares up once more, and out pops the head and shoulders of the new Doctor, number 15. You all gasp in shock, and you're the first to say, “What?”

“What?” Donna and Mel ask in unison.

“What?!” The Toymaker exclaims.

“No way,” the other part of the Doctor exclaims, and your Doctor responds with glee, “You're me.”

The new regeneration of the Doctor smiles, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he says, “No, I'm me. I think I'm really, really me. Oh, ho-ho, I am completely me! Don't just stand there, push!”

Your Doctor poses the question once more, "Do what?" to which his other half retorts, "Push."

"What— Does this work?" Your Doctor questions and the new one responds with a laugh, "I don't know."

They part ways entirely, each now clad in half of the other one's attire. Your Doctor sports the undershirt, vest, and trousers, and is left barefoot. Meanwhile, as far as your memory serves, the 15th regeneration of the Doctor is now adorned in a button-up shirt, tie, sneakers, and underwear. You purse your lips as you try to hide your smile and feel a warmth spreading out your face as you realize your Doctor isn’t wearing any underwear. You decide to pocket that bit of information for later.

A surge of joy and laughter fills the air as the 15th Doctor exclaims, "Hello!" Arms outstretched in a welcoming embrace, he moves towards your Doctor, continuing to laugh, "So good to see you! So good!"

Turning his attention to you, a broad grin decorates his face as he rushes towards you, enveloping you in a warm hug and lifting you off the ground, spinning you around. A yelp of surprise and glee escapes you, and you notice a twinge of jealousy in your Doctor's expression. However, you shoot him a look, a gentle reminder that they are one and the same.

The 15th Doctor lets out hearty laughter before addressing everyone, "Now, someone tell me what the hell is going on here."

"Excuse me. Sorry, but..." Kate begins, and Shirley interjects, "How did that happen?"

"Bi-generation. I have bi-generated! There's no such thing. Bi-generation is supposed to be a myth, but... look at me.” He chuckles and stretches as his joints crack, “Yeah, myth, myth, myth," the 15th Doctor declares with a jolly tone, turning to Mel and inquiring, "Mel, what do you think?"

Mel smiles widely as she gazes at the 15th Doctor, "I think you're beautiful."

Your Doctor furrows his brow, questioning, "Still beautiful?"

"Yeah," Mel responds.

Donna, taking in the new Doctor with a rich deep ebony skin tone, asks, "Do you come in a range of colours?"

To which all the Time Lords reply with a resounding, "Yes."

You hear the Toymaker clear his throat and begin, pointing the beam at the two Doctors, "If I can interrupt... Behold the game of the Time Lords. A dummy who dies and doubles and dies and doubles. I could play this for 100 years. I'll have vast meadows of Doctors dying over and over again, and I'll never get bored because…"

The two Doctors step forward in unison, declaring, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's face sours, and he tosses his goggles, shifting into a frown. "But there's two of you."

Your Doctor asserts, "I'm the Doctor," and the 15th remarks, "And I'm the Doctor."

Your Doctor smirks, "And according to the rules, you can't say no."

The Toymaker stammers, "But that's cheating."

“How?” both Doctors say simultaneously, and your Doctor continues, “It's your game, and you did this.”

The Toymaker is at a loss for words, stammering, "But…"

Your Doctor smiles, "You doubled us."

“So, who am I marrying then—” You interject, and the two Doctors exclaim, “Me!”

Your eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening in response. "Y’know what, that seems like an issue for later."

The Toymaker interjects, stating, "I accept your challenge." Stepping off the Galvanic Beam, your Doctor commands everyone in a commanding voice, "Get back." In compliance, everyone takes a few steps back.

“Moments like these are a joy, when someone thinks they can outwit the maker of the games. Do you think a grand total of two can cause me to shiver when I've played against the Guardians of Time and Space and shrank them into voodoo dolls? Name your challenge, Doctor,” the Toymaker says, and you mockingly yawn, eliciting a glare from him.

“You said it. The first game ever,” the 15th Doctor states, and your Doctor finishes his thoughts, “The ball.”

The Toymaker conjures a ball from thin air and declares, “Catch? Of course, before we begin, there is one thing to remember. It's a simple game, really, but I think…”

Suddenly, the Toymaker hurls the ball towards your Doctor at an astonishing speed, making contact with his chest just as he finishes his sentence, “…if you drop it, you lose.”

Your Doctor catches the ball, releasing a deep breath, “Nice.”

The ball is tossed around in a flurry. You can only watch as it keeps getting passed and tossed. Eventually, the 15th Doctor throws it extremely far to your Doctor, causing him to tumble and dive to catch it from the 15th.

Your Doctor looks at the 15th with wide eyes, his chest puffing out breaths as he exclaims, “Hey! I'm on your side!”

15th sheepishly replies, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!”

The game of catch persists, and you nervously bite your nails as you observe the trio. There are numerous extreme throws and catches, accompanied by near misses, until the 15th Doctor imparts enough spin on the ball. It glances off the Toymaker's fingers, tumbling over the building's edge.

The Toymaker pants in disbelief, beginning, "But—"

“We won!” Your Doctor asserts, and the 15th adds, “We did it. Fair game. You lost.”

Attempting to salvage the situation, the Toymaker stammers, “No, but I think you'll find…”

Your Doctor steps forward, declaring, “Best of three. And my prize, Toymaker, is to banish you from existence forever.”

The Toymaker protests, “No! But I'm... It's not…” Suddenly, he starts to flatten and fold, “You can't... But I…” Mel steps forward and brings out the box as the Toymaker yelps, “Not fair. Please. My legions are coming. Argh!” He folds up into a square and drops into the box, which slams shut.

Kate seizes the box by the handles, instructing the soldier, “Take it to the deepest vault and bind it in salt.” The soldier promptly responds, “Yes, ma'am.”

Shirley and Kate disengage their Zeedexes. Kate turns to Shirley, saying, “Shirley, tell Geneva we're in full resus. Tell every base to follow Green Shoot protocols, full liaison.” She then addresses the soldier, “Rudi, I'll want the names of all those staff.”

Your attention shifts to your Doctor, standing at the edge of the helipad. The wind tousles his brown, spiky hair as he surveys the destruction wreaked upon London by the Toymaker. Approaching him, you grasp his hand and offer, “Hey, we did it.”

“But how many died down there?” The Doctor frowns, his tone heavy with sorrow. The 15th and Donna approach, with Donna reassuringly stating, “That's not your fault.”

The 15th points out, “You can't save everyone.”

Your Doctor pouts, “Why not?”

The 15th Doctor pulls both you and him into a hug, soothingly saying, “Come here. I've got you. Yeah? It's okay. I'm here.”

As you let out a sigh of relief, exhausted to the events that occurred. Your mind wanders and you smile. This love will intimately understand you, resonating on certain levels as if it has always existed—a deep-seated yearning your soul has carried, anticipating the reunion with its heart, perpetually poised to return home to the facets of itself discovered in another being. It serves as a poignant reminder that hope can emanate from the fingertips of another human being, nestled within the layers of the uncharted aspects waiting to be unveiled.

You and the group re-enter the building, abandoning the helipad to solitude, save for a lone sentry stationed at the entrance. A faint echo of laughter seems to linger in the air, leaving you with an inexplicable sense of dread resonating from a distant place.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, SUITE 17, LONDON – DAY 2023

INSIDE THE TARDIS

You observe as the Doctor maneuvers around the console, guiding his other incarnation through the intricacies. "That's the petrolink shatterfy compensator, moved from there to there. Hyperdynes. Er... fluid links, obviously," he explains, his hands deftly pointing out the components.

Your Doctor halts abruptly, stumbling over his words as he gazes at the version of himself standing on the bridge. "And, well, you know... things. But, er... how's it going to work? You and me. This is great, I think. Is it? But... How do we both...?”

“One thing you need in this place is a chair,” the 15th Doctor remarks, and you arch your eyebrows, glancing at your Doctor, who responds, “I'll be all right.”

The 15th shakes his head, emphasizing, “No, you're thin as a pin, love. You're running on fumes.”

You and Donna both sigh in agreement, stating, “That's what we keep saying.”

“I'm just... post-bi-generation,” your Doctor attempts to justify, but the 15th Doctor interjects, “Ha! It's more than that. Our whole lifetime. That Doctor that first met the Toymaker never, ever stopped. Put on trial, exiled, Key to Time, all the devastation of Logopolis.”

“Adric,” your Doctor says with a tinge of sadness, and the 15th nods, “Adric.”

Your Doctor's expression shifts to a sorrowful pout as he reminisces about the days and tragic events. “River Song. All the people we lost. Sarah Jane has gone. Can you believe that for a second?”

“I loved her,” your Doctor admits, and the 15th agrees, “I loved her. And Rose. But the Time War, Pandorica, Mavic Chen. We fought the Gods of Ragnarok, and we didn't stop for a second to say, ‘what the hell?’”

Your Doctor shakes his head, “But you're fine.” He gestures to his newly regenerated self, and the 15th says, “I'm fine because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords. We're doing rehab out of order.”

You then gently interject, “He's saying you need to stop.”

Your Doctor shakes his head in disagreement, stating, “I don't know how.”

Donna takes a step forward, her words measured, “Well, I can tell you. Cos you know what I did when you went flying off in your blue box, Spaceman? I stayed in one place, and I lived day after day after day.”

“It would drive me mad,” your Doctor admits. You nod in agreement, stepping closer to him, your hand gently holding his cheek. “Same here. I’ll be honest, it was difficult… at first. Yeah. It does. But you keep on going. That’s what makes it special. You won’t exactly know what’s going to happen. And that's the adventure. The one adventure you've never had. Because I've... I've worked out what happened. The Flux caused a reset in the universe, no longer making my entire existence a threat to everyone. Then you changed your face, and then you found me. Do you know why?”

The Doctor is wide-eyed as you gaze into his chocolate brown eyes, and you give him a soft smile, “To come home.”

“Do you mean... he flies off?” The Doctor says as he glances at the 15th Doctor, tears welling up. “But I could never let the Tardis go. Never. It would hurt.”

The 15th Doctor approaches you two and leans against the console, stating, “Yeah, but... bi-generation has never happened before.” An idea begins to form in his mind, “What if...? What if!”

Eagerly, he dashes to the walkway, producing a 'test your strength' mallet. “What if the Toymaker's domain is still lingering? Just for a few seconds more, we're in a state of play. Oh! So maybe…”

The 15th Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, and the three of you follow after him. Shirley and Mel are waiting in the suite.

Excitedly, the 15th Doctor exclaims, “Hey! Watch this, watch this. Watch, watch, watch, watch. Stand back. Stand back. Go on, that's it, Donna. Oh! Wish me luck.”

“What for?” The Doctor asks, to which the 15th responds with a big smile, “We won the game. You get a prize, honey, and here is mine!” He swings at the side of the TARDIS, knocking a second one out. An exact duplicate stands on the left side of the original one.

“Ta-da!” The 15th shows off in a sing-songy voice before whispering to the TARDIS, “I am so sorry.”

Donna expresses with glee, “That is completely nuts,” and the 15th Doctor laughs in agreement.

The Doctor pushes the other TARDIS doors open and looks down. He unfolds a ramp, saying, “Oh, look! Oh, that's not bad. Wheelchair accessible.”

“At last! You finally caught up with the 21st century!” Shirley smiles, laughing.

“Yeah. Go on,” the 15th Doctor says to your Doctor, who steps inside to glance around as you wait outside. After a minute, he walks out, goes into the original TARDIS, and looks around. You watch as the 15th Doctor gives you a wink before stepping inside his TARDIS, and you let out a snort.

You see your Doctor exit the TARDIS and realize the 15th Doctor is missing. “Where is he? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”

You follow your Doctor as he pushes open the other TARDIS doors, saying, “You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”

The 15th Doctor mischievously grins as he replies, “As if I would ever do that. Come here. Come here, come here, come here, come here.” He hugs him and kisses you on the cheek, saying, “Look after him, you know? Now, you three, if you don't mind, there is a great big universe out there calling, and I've got to get going. So off you pop, old man.”

Your Doctor shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes, “Oh. You're the old man. You're older than me.”

Donna nods in agreement, “Actually, that is true. He's younger because you came after him. So you're the older Doctor.”

The 15th Doctor rolls his eyes playfully, teasing, “Okay, kid. I love you. Get out!” He sets the Time Rotor in motion, and Donna rushes out of the TARDIS, yelping, “I'm not doing that again!”

Observing the Doctors salute each other, you hear him say to you, “I’ll see you soon.” Then the two of you exit.

Stepping into Suite 17, the group gathers as the Doctor remarks, “Shirley, I don't suppose you've seen this before. I don't see it often myself. Stand by.”

“Where's he going?” Mel asks, and the Doctor replies, “Everywhere.”

You watch as the TARDIS dematerializes, and you catch the soft whisper of the Doctor, “Good luck.”

DONNA’S GARDEN — DAY, 2023

The TARDIS is parked in Donna’s garden, a testament to the new chapter you and the Doctor were embarking on—cohabiting. Presently, the entire family savored a meal al fresco beneath the pergola adorned with wisteria in full bloom. The Doctor sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your thigh, a constant desire to connect, to be near.

“Right. The cast-iron pot is the vegan. Ta-da! And the one with the flowers is the chicken,” Shaun declares, placing the dish on the table. You hum and nod, and Shaun adds, “I think.”

Sylvia chimes in, pointing to the dish, “And this is cauliflower cheese, which doesn't really go with anything, but it was there.” Rose nods as they begin to take their seats.

Donna raises a hand, signaling for attention, “Anyway, shush, please, for the eyebrow story.”

“Oh, yes. So... this species only communicated with their eyebrows. I thought, I can do that,” the Doctor says with an unusually happy tone, a rare occurrence that visibly lifts the weight from his shoulders. He sits straighter, and with a flourish of his eyebrows, he continues the story, “So I'm stood there on this clifftop and I went... ‘I mean you no harm. I come in peace. I am your friend.’”

“Am I late?” Mel's voice breaks through, and you lift your head to see her sheepishly saying, “Sorry. The door was open. You don't mind?”

Sylvia dismisses her concern, cooing, “Oh, you're family, darling. Sit down.”

You glance at Mel and ask, “Did you drive?”

“No. I got a lift off a zingo,” Mel replies as she takes a seat next to you, prompting cheers and laughter from the group.

“A zingo!” Donna exclaims, and Sylvia smiles, “Oh, how strange.”

The Doctor continues his eyebrow-raising tale, “So, she looked at me, the Warrior Queen of the Felooth, and she said, ‘Good. And now... you will marry me.’ I said, ‘What?!’ And she pushed me off the cliff!”

Sylvia leans in over the table, asking, “But is it true, though? Is it really true?”

The Doctor looks to you, humming and shrugging, “Mmm…” You playfully shove his shoulder, and he kisses your cheek.

“We could always go in the Tardis and find out,” Rose suggests, but Shaun interjects, “Don't you dare.”

Donna sternly tells her daughter, “You are grounded until the Doctor feels better. Don't go sneaking off to Mars.”

“Again,” Rose says, and Donna goes wide-eyed, asking, “What does that mean?” She pointedly looks at the two of you.

“Oh, no. It was just once. Oh, you're in trouble,” the Doctor says, and you wince.

Mel explains, “They took me to New York last week. The Gilded Age. It was amazing.”

The Doctor shrugs, “Well, yeah. We just can't turn down my favourite niece.”

Rose smiles, “Ah! Niece. I like that.”

“Well, that's what you are. With my best friend, my brother-in-law, the evil stepmother…” The Doctor says, and Sylvia chuckles, “Oh, I have barely begun.” The Doctor continues, “..and Mad Aunty Mel.”

Mel chuckles, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

You all toast happily, exclaiming, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

The Doctor then places down his glass before lifting your left hand, now adorned with a gold band inscribed in Gallifreyan. He kisses your knuckles and says lovingly, “And of course, my soon-to-be wife.”

You can’t help but smile as you look at him. With him, you just open. The cost of staying fortified and hidden away becomes too high. With the Doctor, you lay down your arms. You let love rush in. You let it wash over you. You crack your shell, exposing your heart to this world, trusting that you are worthy of being seen there.

The Doctor then remembers, “And Grandad! Where is he?”

Sylvia says, “Oh, he's off shooting moles.”

The sound of a shotgun resonates, and you hum as the Doctor says, “Don't worry, I gave the moles a forcefield. I love the moles.”

Donna raises her eyebrows, asking, “You love the moles?”

The Doctor grins, “I love them. But here we are, Grandad and all. Who'd have thought? I ended up with a family.”

You feel the weight of his words settling in the cracks of your bones as your hearts thump in the silence. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling him kiss the top of your head.

Shaun suddenly exclaims, “Oh, my God, I got it wrong. The vegan one is in the flowers.”

Rose groans, tossing her fork on the plate, “Urgh! What am I eating?”

“Oh... Don't worry.” Shaun tries to help. “We'll just… give it to Grandad.” Sylvia adds, “Don't make a fuss. Pass me your plate.”

Donna looks between the two of you, smiling as she says, “You don't have to stay forever.”

The Doctor glances at you, and you smile up at him, saying, “We'll see.”

“Do you miss it? Out there?” Donna asks.

The Doctor looks around, realizing he’s surrounded by love as he says, “The funny thing is, I fought all those battles for all those years, and now I know what for. This. I've never been so happy in my life.”

This love infuses honey into the core of your being; it's akin to a gentle warmth seeping into the very marrow of your bones. Witnessing how it learns about you, fights on your behalf, and remains steadfast through life's storms by your side, you're reminded of the profound connection often overshadowed by the preference for distance over depth in this world. It's a reminder that hope emanates from the touch of another, concealed within the layers of undiscovered facets. You now comprehend that love was always intended to be gentle, always meant to be tender, as evidenced by the Doctor intertwining his fingers with yours, accompanied by a bright grin. Your bones are safe, and your heart can rest assured it belongs to him. Your world transforms, cradled by the comforting embrace that is the Doctor.

“So,” Donna begins as she chews her food and swallows as he smiles at her best friends, “When’s the wedding?”

TAGLIST:

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @matthew-lilards @a-dash-of-cinnamon @imthedoctorlove @scoliobean @allophonicmess @mirkwoodshewolf @jaziona92 @melloww-akira @crowleythesexydemon @pedrettilov3r @nsainmoonchild @h-l-vlovesvintage @jaziona92 @1potato2rulethemall @jesssimblrorwhatever @prettyboigenius @ladygrimmx

#14th doctor x reader #14th doctor x fem!reader #14th doctor x fem reader #14th doctor #10th doctor #doctor who #fourteen x reader #fourteenth doctor #dw specials #dw spoilers #doctor who special #doctor who 60th anniversary #dw 60th #60th anniversary

[miguelswifey04]

sweetstuff—webslinger x cowgirl! reader

the webslinger glanced up, his eyes widening at the sight of a stunning cowgirl dressed in a spider-woman suit. he couldn't help but be instantly captivated by her charm and beauty, his heart skipping a beat.

“well, darlin', looks like we've got ourselves a real superhero meetin'. the name's webslinger, and you sure do look mighty fine in that get-up. care for a ride on widow? he’s a trusty steed, just like us."

he extended his hand towards you, a warm smile spreading across his face. his southern drawl added an extra touch to his already captivating charm. “why, sure thing!” you winked at him as you hopped on the back of his precious horse. the webslinger couldn't help but blush at the cowgirl's wink, finding himself even more intrigued by her flirtatious nature. he adjusted his cowboy hat and tightened his grip on the reins as you effortlessly hopped onto the back of widow, settling in behind him. “well now, pardner, looks like we're in for a wild ride. hold on tight, and let's show 'em what a dynamic duo we can be!"

with a swift kick of his cowboy boot, the webslinger urged widow into a gallop, racing across the open plains with the wind rushing through his hair. he couldn't hide his excitement as he swung his lasso, shooting webs that caught onto the surrounding trees and produced a series of thrilling acrobatics.

“yeehaw! ain’t no villain can outpace us, not with this trusty horse and these fancy rope tricks!" the webslinger chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief as he glanced back at the cowgirl riding behind him. your enthusiasm only fueled his own, and he couldn't help but appreciate her spirit. “damn right!” you said as you held onto his waist.

"feisty and fearless, just the way i like 'em. ain’t no challenge we can't face together."

he continued to maneuver widow through the terrain, seamlessly dodging obstacles and performing daring stunts. his webs shot out in graceful arcs, allowing him to swing from tree to tree with precision.

“i reckon we make quite the team, darlin'. you’ve got the spirit of a true cowgirl, and i ain't afraid to get my hands dirty. so, what do you say? ready to tame the wild west together?"

“yessir, a girl like me is up for a challenge.” the webslinger felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt the cowgirl's hands wrap around his waist, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle, his voice full of excitement and anticipation.

“well, ain't you full of surprises, darlin'. hold on tight now, things are about to get a whole lot wilder."with a flick of the reins, the webslinger urged widow to pick up the pace, leading them into a full-blown gallop across the open plains. the wind whipped through their hair as they became a blur against the landscape, their bodies pressed close as they moved as one.

“let’s s ride into the sunset, cowgirl. our adventure has only just begun.

———

a/n: THIS IS SO CORNY Y’ALL but definitely a teaser bc yes there will be a part 2 :p

🏷️: @kairiscorner

#spiderman atsv #webslinger #spider man: across the spider verse #patrick o’hara #and a cowboy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 #cowboy #cowgirl #a cowgirl and spider woman #yeehaw #save a horse ride a cowboy #pedro pascal as webslinger #atsv smut #🌱 lin writes #webslinger x cowgirl! reader #webslut

[meadowofdarts]

I would love a champion ship reader stuff!

If u do oneshot can I request “fighting” for the crown with Scara who’s your partner, he’s stronger but you know some of his tricks and impress him

Same with Cyno! <3

Fighting For The Diadem (BONUS)

Ngl, I wasn't going to make a bonus like this since I wasn't doing requests yet (considering rn) but I figured this a way to make up for those who wanted a different love interest <3 Thanks to Anon for the idea!

Since Wanderer is in the main post, I'll be doing Cyno but I figured to add the other contestants so it's more fun.

Btw, I want to say that this was written way before the polls about the weapons and vision. The ones that won were an anemo vision with a polearm (you guys want to be Xiao huh?) - that will be for the main post. This one contains the other elements and weapons.

This will follow the same rules as the main series. You and your partner are in the same darshan.

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, Layla, Faruzan.

MAIN POST (WANDERER): PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

Enjoy!

CYNO

(Reader uses a catalyst with a pyro vision)

Cyno aimed his spear directly at Hat Guy. In response, he sends an anemo wind blade to the polearm, sending it back up.

The General Mahamatra catches his weapon in the sky and dashes fast to Hat Guy. Cyno sends the first attack to him with an electro-swift thrust of his elemental skill.

Successful with his hit, Hay Guy turns annoyed but fights back, sending more of his anemo wind blades to him as Cyno dodges.

Meanwhile, you examined your boyfriend's moves with Hat Guy while inside one of the forest's fluorescent mushrooms.

Cyno suggested that while he fights the others, he will use it as a distraction for you to grab the diadem if there is an opportunity for it when he fights the contestants.

You prepared your weapon in hand as you waited for Cyno to give a signal or an opening to snatch the diadem off-guard. Cyno and Hat Guy continue to exchange blows with one another. Hat Guy unleashes a number of his wind-blade attacks, and Cyno deflects them with his polearm.

When Cyno attempts to attack, his opponent blocks them with his arms. Although, It didn't seem to hurt him as he didn't show any slight pain whatsoever. They both bounced off away from a distance when Hat Guy noticed something.

You turned to where he was looking, raising your eyebrow. It was Kaveh, yelling coming towards them with Faruzan's device in hand, looking like it was out of control.

Seeing it got Hat Guy's attention, Cyno quickly looked up to meet your stare. He ushered you to his opponent before leaping to him.

That was your cue.

You quickly jumped on top of the mushroom you were on. You still struggled, but you managed to make it above. You were preparing yourself to take action.

At the bottom of the forest, Hat Guy forms his charged attack of wind pressure on Kaveh when he passes by him with the device still in his hand. It sends Kaveh off somewhere away from the duo.

Unnoticed, Cyno uses his spear to hit the diadem, finally resulting it out of the hands of Hat Guy. From the impact, the crown goes far up above.

Once it was high enough, you jumped off from the mushroom to the next mushroom forward while successfully quickly grabbing the diadem in your hands.

After landing on the mushroom, you quickly sprint and plunge to the ground with the possession of the diadem. While running, you hear the speed of footsteps coming behind you. At the corner of your eye, you see Kaveh running after you. It was blurry, but you could make out that Hat Guy was flying toward you.

You lowered your pace as you took out your catalyst and sent your pyro attacks to the architect. Kaveh barely dodges it as he was still dizzy from Faruzan's device and the wind from Hat Guy. But it seems to stop Kaveh from chasing you because he stopped, catching his breath, and stopped momentarily from the burning grass.

You also noticed Hat Guy coming. You send more of your Pyro attacks, and he dodges them without a struggle. He, in return, sends more of his wind blades, but you still manage to avoid them while running without looking.

Without you noticing, Hat Guy was about to fly into you to get the diadem until someone came in his way and blocked his aggression. He cursed under his breath as he flew back to meet Cyno's hardened gaze.

Cyno noticed the venue ahead, and you were close to reaching it. He smiled, proud of you, but he needed to defend against the guy with the giant hat to keep him busy, so there's time for you to put the diadem in place.

...

TIGHNARI

(Reader uses a sword with an electro vision)

You were running at the scene at the part of the forest where Layla is coming and is supposed to be with the diadem. You noticed before that Faruzan took ahead up, so there's a chance she might catch up with Layla, so you had to be quick.

But all of a sudden, when you glanced up ahead to see Faruzan and Layla's figure, you attempted to run but fell back down so suddenly by the wind force. Confused and surprised, you looked up to see Hat Guy flying out of the scene. But you only focused on one thing; he now had the diadem.

You got yourself up again and ran behind him.

'He's so fast...' You thought. Hat Guy never really participated in the other rounds, almost like lazing off during the championship. But seeing this round, it's like he's giving his all. You shouldn't have underestimated his strength.

You pulled out your sword and leaped up high to attack him straight. But already having a sense of your figure, he dodged and lowered himself to the ground. Once he did, you attacked again, using your elemental skill by throwing various spearheads with electro circling around them.

He deflected them with the use of his anemo vision and started sending his attacks to you. You avoided them as you sprinted up to him to attack him near, but he stopped it quickly with his catalyst.

He flew near you and sent more of his wind blades. Every time it comes, you stop it with your sword directing the anemo attack backward to Hat Guy, which he dodges every time.

At some point during your fight, you sent your electro spearheads again. Your opponent avoids them, except one spearhead managed to land a hit on his shoulder, which causes your element vision to flow around his body.

He seemed surprised yet annoyed at the same time for letting himself get hit like that.

Still fazed by your sudden attack, he was startled to glance at the sides to see charged dendro arrows charging at him.

When you had fought with Hat Guy, Tighnari aimed his bow and arrow at him while you distracted him, which allowed Tighnari to shoot his shot.

Quickly, when Hat Guy took his gaze off you for only a second, you sprinted past him as he dodged immensely from Tighnari's arrows.

His smirk was quickly wiped off his face when he realized that one of his hands that was once occupying the crown felt empty.

He turned to see you running away with the diadem in your hands. You looked back at him and stuck your tongue out as you fleed. Grumbling under his breath, he went after you by flying. Unknown to him, Tighnari also ran in your direction.

Seeing Hat Guy was catching up with you, you turned and noticed your boyfriend. "Tighnari, here!"

You throw the diadem at him which he caught it without a struggle. In exchange, he also threw you one of his arrows from his pocket.

While he ran with the diadem, you stopped and turned to throw Tighnari's arrow to Hat Guy, who turned his attention to your lover. Caught him off guard, he flew back until he was against one of the mushrooms from Tighnari's arrow piercing through his clothes, sticking him up to the mushroom.

You laughed mockingly at him. You figured Tighnari was near the venue with the diadem, so you decide to leave Hat Guy stuck on the mushroom.

You met up with Tighnari along the way and high-fived him.

...

Hat Guy despises you now :D

...

KAVEH

(Reader uses a bow with a hydro vision)

It was the third and final round of the championship. You were determined to win and help Kaveh this time around. Even though he earned a point, Kaveh didn't have a good time during the second round.

You felt so bad for him during that time, so you wanted to win the championship all for him. He deserved it.

You were lucky that you manage to seize the diadem first in the forest. But now, every other participant was after you. You didn't know where Kaveh was. He said he forgot Mahrak, and he suggested you should take action first.

Currently, you hide in one of the mushrooms of the Mawtiyima forest as you see Faruzan and Layla looking around the area, probably looking for you. Even though they are the ones you saw right now, you need to keep an eye out for the other contestants.

You waited a bit before climbing up top on the mushroom you hid yourself with. It seems no one has noticed you yet. But just in case, you took out your bow and waited for your charged attack to fill up.

After a while, you shoot at somewhere random in the forest, creating a splash from your hydro vision that reaches the ears of the two girls below. Layla immediately ran in the direction where you shot while Faruzan followed her.

Seeing the coast was clear, you dashed in the opposite direction where the venue was located with the diadem in your hands.

But when you immediately see a polearm thrown at you, you know this isn't easy already. You aimlessly stopped the weapon coming by deflecting it with your own bow. The polearm is being thrown in a random direction to the ground.

Sensing someone, you quickly took out your bow and shot various arrows to where it came from. Cyno enters the scene as he dodges them very well.

Cyno ran past you to get the weapon that allowed you to shoot behind him with your bow and arrow. But that failed quickly when he ducked to avoid it.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Kaveh had finally arrived back in the central area of the forest with his forgotten suitcase. He started looking around for you but still tried to keep an eye on who had the diadem. He realized that you probably already went ahead.

He sprinted to the route of the venue but noticed something in the corner of his eye. He sees Faruzan and Layla looking troubled as Faruzan's device goes around to lose control.

Seeing it was heading in his direction, Kaveh tried to stop it with his hand. But it overpowering him, dragging Kaveh with the device still in his hand.

Back to you, you were still fighting with Cyno, defending yourself against him as he was trying to get the diadem. Both of you continue to send attacks to each other while blocking some of the strikes.

At some point during the battle, Cyno managed to snap the diadem out of your hands, so now he has it while you are trying to get it back.

You and he were both immersed in the fight until you heard a scream with a familiar voice coming closer every second.

You turned to find Kaveh coming after you and Cyno with a device in his hand, as he looked like maintaining a hard time controlling it.

However, it was swift to register that because of the sudden quick appearance; you both got knocked out to a far distance from each other. You had to get your back get hurt against one of the mushrooms. In the process, Cyno had lost grasp of the diadem, and it managed to land near you.

You groaned, rubbing your back, but you were more concerned about where Kaveh went. You see the diadem near you and grab it quickly before dashing away with it. A little while later, you see Kaveh still having his hand on the mad device.

You immediately took out your bow as you charged your arrow. "Kaveh, let go of it!"

He did as you said without hesitation, as his mind was probably spinning in circles. He landed on the floor, still dizzy from it.

As the device reaches you, you immediately shoot it with your charged attack. This caused the device to smash into one of the forest's tiny hills that successfully seemed to stop the little machine as it landed on the floor.

You sighed in relief before heading up to Kaveh. You draped one of his arms around your neck while holding his torso with your other hand. You were still holding the diadem. It was a good thing that you saw the venue up ahead.

"You okay?"

"A bit. Thanks, (Name)."

...

LAYLA

(Reader uses a claymore with a cyro vision)

You and Layla were able to get hold of the diadem before anyone else. The two of you were running together, Layla holding it tightly as the two of you attempted to make it to the end goal.

You both were in second place; before Spantamad, wherein you were behind Cyno. So far, you both managed to get a point from the two other rounds. So, you and your girlfriend had a high chance of winning this with the point system.

Layla stopped making you do so as well. You meet at the front to see Faruzan blocking your path. Immediately meeting your eyes, she summons her device that goes straight up to you two.

You grabbed Layla's hand and dashed ahead while you quickly pulled out your claymore and swung the device with your weapon sending it back with its appearance looking broken.

Faruzan looked surprised but gained her composure when you and your partner decided to flee the scene. She dashed in an attempt to stop you from continuing on ahead.

You gave Layla a look while running, and she immediately knew what you meant. She showed that by tightening her hand around yours.

Layla quickly summoned her shield as Faruzan was coming near.

You used your elemental burst to summon your cryo blades to the ground that block Faruzan out of your sight.

The Haravatat girl stopped in her tracks near the swords you summoned. She stared at it, confused, until she heard rushing footsteps behind her. She turned to see you and Layla sprinting away.

She cursed for letting you guys get away as she believed that you used your elemental burst as a distraction, which it was. Faruzan let another one of her devices go towards you.

You and Layla knew something was coming behind you, but you continued as the device hit the shield instead. While running, you glance to the side to see Tighnari shooting his dendro arrows at the two of you. It was useless anyway since it hit the shield and did nothing.

Another threat appeared as you saw Cyno running up ahead and trying to send an attack on you. You obviously blocked and deflected him. You thought you could make it to the venue without distractions, but Cyno kept blocking your path and trying to attack you.

You nodded to Layla as you decided to fight Cyno while she moved ahead to put the diadem in place.

She hesitated but agreed to it. You also started attacking Cyno as he dodged and used his skills against you. That gave Layla time to dash past you guys as you both fought.

You summoned your elemental burst, but Cyno managed to leap over it. He swung his polearm to strike you, but you blocked it with your claymore with your full-on strength to push him back with your weapons still in contact.

At some point during the fight, Cyno managed to trip you down with his foot and used his polearm to trap you in.

You grumbled but noticed that he looked confused. Cyno stood wondering where you had the diadem until he realized your girlfriend had it.

He was about to get up until you pushed him back down as you got up and ran ahead.

Cyno went up, threw his polearm at you, aimed successfully at your back, and led you back down. Cyno was about to get up and find Layla but paused as he saw a cryo starlight towards him. He dodged it but saw more coming his way. He managed to avoid them but was still confused about where they came from.

But that gave you time to get up and run ahead. The cryo starlight was coming towards Layla's burst. You knew as you see the Dreamsphere she summoned earlier.

Later, you met up and hugged her, thanking her for what she did back there. She blushed but gave a small smile as she also said her appreciation for your skills.

...

FARUZAN

(Reader uses a sword with a dendro vision)

After waiting for a while, you decided to find Faruzan or whoever had possession of the diadem. The final round came in, and Haravatat was in second to last place, which isn't good. (Even though you tied up with Kaveh.)

Speaking of Faruzan, you honestly don't know where she went, as she said it's better to split off to make it easier in case different opponents managed to seize the diadem. Word got out that Layla snatched it first, so she went ahead to check it out while you waited at the middle center of the forest, in case something happen.

So you were about to daze off and fall asleep when you heard rushed footsteps and a gust of strong wind past you that you had to hold the mushrooms for a bit of support.

You turned to see Faruzan running in your direction. She stopped the moment she was near you while catching her breath.

"What happened?" You asked quickly.

She gained her composure and mumbled. "Ugh, that guy..."

You looked in the other direction to see a figure flying, but it seemed they were far from a distance, but you barely managed to make out that it was Hat Guy from Vahumana. But you also see in one of his hands was a shiny treasure. The diadem.

"(Name)," She said to gain your attention. "Here's what we can do."

She whispered her plan in your ear. After hearing it, you agreed to it with a little smirk.

...

Hat Guy was basically more overpowered than any of the other contestants, as he was flying with his elemental skill while dodging every other contestant's strikes.

His smug expression dropped when he heard someone sprinting behind him. He turned to see you below with your sword in hand.

Hat Guy stopped for a brief moment to send his catalyst attacks to you. You blocked them with your sword while aimlessly dodging a bit that went near you.

While you started the fight with Hat Guy, at the same time, Faruzan entered the scene. She sent her charged attack to the one with the giant hat.

Hat Guy backed away as he dodged your charged attack but then noticed Faruzan's charged arrow coming in his way. While he intended to avoid it, you took this as a chance in an attempt to get the diadem.

As expected, he avoided it and gave your girlfriend an anemo attack. In doing so, you managed to go around him and quickly sprinted and got the diadem out of his hands.

Immediately, Hat Guy noticed he didn't have the diadem in his hands anymore. You ran away with it, along with Faruzan catching up to you. He then chases after you, still flying.

While running, Faruzan released one of her devices again and instantly was sent to Hat Guy, hoping it could get him out so that you put the diadem in place without anyone interrupting.

Hat Guy sent a charged attack to the device, which gave the machine a malfunction, and now it's going crazy again. She stopped in worry as it went in every corner out of control. Noticing her, you also stopped and saw the commotion.

Hat Guy took this to his advantage to take the diadem.

But you know what to do. The device was getting closer to you and Faruzan with Hat Guy coming. Faruzan ducked to dodge it, but you quickly pulled out your sword and swung it with a charge of great strength that sent the device flying to another side.

That side happened to be where Hat Guy was. Since the device was still out of control, it was relatively fast. So Hat Guy couldn't dodge it in time. The device managed to land a hit on his chest and the device sending him off a far distance.

(author: why does imagining that is so funny)

Faruzan couldn't help but smile widely at what you did. You turned and sent a smile back.

She went to you and gave you a quick peck on your cheek. "Come on! Let's get this diadem back."

...

ngl just realized that the readers visions don't matter - it's mainly the weapons i used for reader in here whoops lol

good god, idk why this took so long but I finally did it :D (but i might go back to this and make minor changes)

See you guys there in a play of vigorous wisdom part three!

taglist: @etherisy, @fanfictionenthusiast, @melobee, @cattycattitude @timeofsilversstuff, @yourfuturebaee, @cloudycloudd, @sketcheeee, @godsblesstheboi, @swivy123, @that-mom-friend, @julia-scribbles, @llunariese, @seirenspinel, @anggurz, @stormyenglish-23, @inferisk0, @paracosm-life, @mochisgf, @fabimaou, @yuyukami, @kaocia, @sharkdays, @miyakoa, @vvyeislazzy (extra tags) @fairygirl18, @caramelstarlight, @osaihara

(Those without underlining are the people I am unable to tag, sorry but check your settings!)

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #wanderer x reader #genshin x y/n #cyno x reader #faruzan x reader #layla x reader #tighnari x reader #kaveh x reader #interdarshan championship #genshin version 3.6 #sumeru #sumeru x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #scaramouche x reader

[babydollmarauders]

this is like a question for everyone but does anyone have any good hockey romance books (or just books in general) because i've read all the popular book tok ones like off campus and ice breaker but i have no idea where i can find other recommendations

oh you’re speaking my language! i’ve read so many!

if you’ve already read off-campus then i assume you’ve also read the spin-off series Briar U!

some of my other favorites are:

the Swift Hat-Trick trilogy by Hannah Cowan

Breakaway by Grace Reilly

ANY of Maren Moore’s books!

Tutoring the Player by Rebecca Jenshak

One Last Shot by Julia Connors

the Carolina Comets series by Teagan Hunter

the Campus Nights series by Rebecca Jenshak

if anyone has any other good ones, please feel free to send them!

#faithlynn speaks 🪐 #ask faithlynn ✨

[gravestrain]

sweet nothing; j. hughes

Have I ever written a fic that wasn't inspired by a Taylor Swift song? Anyways, here we are, my winter exchange fic for 2023! @quinnshuggy I am so sorry it's late, life caught up to me and I had a major oral surgery at the beginning of the year that threw me for a loop. I hope you enjoy this, I tried so hard to capture the essence of this song and the way I feel Jack would be as a partner. It was a pleasure to write this for you 💖 @antoineroussel as always, thank you for organizing this event for our community. I feel honored to participate each time!

You had never known Jack Hughes at a time that he was not in the public eye. You wished that you did, although you didn't hate the way that yours and his social medias were filled with "private but not secret" pictures, despite the almost 4 year relationship the two of you had shared. You wished that things were different, but your heart soared at the way that he held your hand extra tight while walking somewhere crowded, and that he always seemed to have an umbrella or something hooded while the two of you walked out in public somewhere together. You could feel the stares he felt, despite when he would suddenly get the urge to wrap his arms around you and pull your head into his shoulder. You might not always feel the stares, but you could certainly recognize the click of the camera.

You were no stranger to Jack's fame, and neither of you were foolish enough to think that no one knew who his girlfriend was. He never tried to hide that he had a girlfriend, he just had always been set on not displaying your face everywhere, despite how badly he wanted to. You were not a public figure like him, but you knew that people would probably be able to find you pretty quickly if they tried to search for you on social media.

There were moments though when you remembered how much you loved the bubble of peace that you and Jack had worked so hard to create and protect. How much you appreciated the effort that Jack had put into protecting your peace and loving you without exposing your every detail to the public. You were grateful that you could just exist with Jack at times and not have to worry about exposing everything you had. There was something so sweet about having parts of yours and Jack's relationship that just belonged to the two of you.

Jack was certain he was on cloud 9. He had just scored a hat trick in a home playoff game, scoring the game winning goal that sent the Devils into the conference championship series. You screamed with the rest of the families in the box, ecstatic that the love of your life and your best friend had sent his team farther into the playoffs. He had worked so hard throughout his career so far, and he was finally making it closer to his ultimate goal.

You hugged Ellen and cheered with Jim. When the energy finally started to calm down, you twisted the ring on your left hand, the one that you were calmly able to hide. When you and Jack got engaged, you decided you wanted to keep it just with your loved ones. You knew that people would still speculate and put their two cents into your relationship. You were happy that the two of you were able to keep your engagement as something for the two of you to keep sacred.

You, Ellen, and Jim started to head down towards the locker room. You figured Jack would be working on post game media, which he dreaded. The media could be so personal, so invasive, and he really just wanted to hug his fiancé and cuddle on the couch.

"So Jack, how are you gonna celebrate the big win?" A reporter asked him and he couldn't hide his smile as he thought of you and his parents waiting for him. "I'm gonna celebrate with my family," he smiled cheekily. He was certain that teammates would chirp him and that people would comment on Jack turning into a family man, but he didn't care. He was so happy to be with you. "That's right, you have a girlfriend at home, right?"

"I hear that congratulations might be in order?" Jack froze as soon as he heard those words. He could feel the steam starting to pour out of his ears. He was never a fan of media interviews and he had dodged his fair share of flighty questions about his performance, questionable life decisions, but never once had he dealt with an inappropriate question about his partner. He felt like his heart was in his feet, and when he remembered that the world was watching, he took an inhale, and simply did what he thought was best.

"Yeah, thank you, the game was great." A cheeky smile appeared on the face of the reporter who had asked the personal question. Jack had felt like he dodged the question successfully, seeing as no one else mentioned it for the short remainder of the interview.

they say the end is coming,

everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

And when he emerged from the locker room to find you standing with his parents, the sudden urge to wrap you up and never bring you into the public eye again came upon him. The two of you had worked so hard to keep your relationship as private as possible. He could have never imagined himself loving someone so much that the urge to protect them was this strong.

"Hi sweetheart," he murmured. Your face lit up at the sight of him, wondering why he was so mopey when he just scored the goal that sent the Devils to the conference championship. Not only that but he was playing beside his younger brother, who came barreling in all smiles and immediately hugged his mom and dad, jumping up and down. Luke even hugged you before your fiancé made it to you, causing you to raise your eyebrows.

"Now what could you possibly be so down about, Mr. Hat Trick?" You smirked, moving closer to him and grabbing his hands. "I'm furious. A reporter was asking questions about you. Made some side comment about 'congratulations being in order.' It made me want to lock you away from the stupid media forever," he grumbled, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

"I didn't realize I was such a sore subject." You teased your fiancé, kissing his cheek that wasn't buried into your neck. "You know that's not what I meant. I just hate that people are so invasive. Don't they realize there's a reason that we haven't come out and said we're engaged yet? For pesky reporters who just want to write a story. I just scored a hat trick in a Game 7 and all they care about is how many carats your diamond is. Please, I make too much for a fake diamond." You cackled at his comment, pulling his face out of your neck. "And you're so humble too," Ellen joked, causing you to laugh.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

Later that night, with the rest of the world shut off, you and Jack climbed into bed, his hand tangled with yours, reminding you both of the beautiful engagement ring Jack had worked so hard to give you. You understood why Jack was so upset. The proposal was beautiful, a select few of both of your loved ones gathered afterwards, but all that really mattered was the two of you.

Jack spent years dealing with bad media being targeted at him. He had heard just about every rumor under the sun about himself. He learned how to handle them and how to brush them off his shoulder, but he knew he never wanted you to deal with them.

"You know how much I love you, right?" Jack mumbled into your ear, nuzzling his face into your chest. "What a silly question, Jack Rowden." You turned to face him, wondering about the meaning of the question that seemed so naive. You wondered if Jack knew just how much you truly loved him. It never felt like you were able to show him to the fullest extent.

"I'm not trying to be all possessive, I just hate that people think they can say whatever they want about you. We work too hard to keep our lives private and sacred just for them to come in and ask me invasive questions during a playoff press conference." Jack grumbled, playing with the strings on your pajama bottoms. "I know you're frustrated baby, and I'm frustrated too. To be honest, I feel lucky that someone loves me enough to want to protect me this deeply. I've never known a love like this. There's so many small details about our love that they could never know even if you did answer the invasive questions. They could never know that I always make you and Luke breakfast on Sundays, or that we almost always match whenever we go out in public without trying, or that you won't take your pregame nap without me.

"Jack, the way you love me is better than anything I could have ever dreamed of. And if it's causing you this much turmoil, what's the harm in them knowing we're engaged? I hate seeing you this worked up and stressed out. I was ecstatic for your win and you were more worried about the comments. I love you for how much you protect me, but it isn't worth it if you're getting this worked up. They'll never know that you talk to me in your sleep if we just tell them they're engaged," you joked, causing Jack to tickle your side lightly.

"I love you, (Y/N). All I've ever wanted to do was keep you safe and show you how much I love you. If you feel comfortable telling the world we're engaged, let's do it. I've been wanting to scream it from the rooftops, but I knew someone on tiktok would hear a different name and say I was married to some influencer," Jack joked and you pulled him closer to you. "Maybe we can pretend I'm Alix Earle," you joked back, causing him to laugh.

As the two of you decided what to post, you laughed and held each other, happy to be enjoying each other's company while doing something so mundane yet so impactful on your lives. You knew that things might change, that people would get more ruthless, more invasive, even with the permanence of a wedding ring, with taking Jack's last name.

"You know I'm hyphenating my name, right?" You asked, causing Jack to smirk. "Oh, babe, I've known that forever. I'm just glad you're taking Hughes at all." He quipped back, causing you to smile. "It is one of my greatest honors."

jackhughes and yourusername

We feel more blessed than ever to officially announce that we are engaged. We wish it was on our own terms, but this is one of the greatest joys of our lives regardless. We can't wait for this next chapter of our lives. We ask that you respect our privacy at this time.

comments on this post are disabled

Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving) You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming) All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

#jack Hughes imagine #jack Hughes x reader #jack hughes #nhl imagine #nhl fic #New Jersey devils #New Jersey devils imagine #jack Hughes fic

[manamoeba]

2024 Predictions

The truth about the world, he said, is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it all from birth and thereby bled it of its strangeness it would appear to you for what it is, a hat trick in a medicine show, a fevered dream, a trance bepopulate with chimeras having neither analogue nor precedent, an itinerant carnival, a migratory tentshow whose ultimate destination after many a pitch in many a mudded field is unspeakable and calamitous beyond reckoning.

Judge Holden, via Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian

Here are my predictions for 2024, made in the first few days of January and not published until now because I am a shambles of a man more concerned with divining the future than with existing in the present. They are as follows:

Middle East war expands to include direct involvement of Iranian armed forces

Hugh Jackman comes out as queer or is outed

David Attenborough dies

Small-scale nuclear exchange or Cuban-Missile-Crisis-style knife-edge moment

‘Once-in-a-lifetime’ summer heatwave 

Donald Trump re-elected president of the USA

The Lord Of The Rings remake announced 

JK Rowling’s HP series is a disaster

Taylor Swift pregnant

OpenAI company collapses

Vladimir Putin dies 

Elon Musk survives some sort of overdose 

I fail to meaningfully build upon Start Prepping UK

I've had to strike out the first prediction because it has already come true. Here's hoping I'm wrong about some of them and right about some others.

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

seven

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s relationship throughout the years.

Word count: 3399

Warnings: some swearing

Series Masterlist

Age: 7

Year: 2001

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Little Elizabeth Sanchez sat on the front porch of her house, watching her parents and the movers move things into her new house. They just moved back to Brooklyn from Connecticut because her father got a new job and to be closer to her grandmother.

"Betty, you'll have to move sweetheart, you're in the way," her mother calls out as they begin to unload the heavier things.

Betty. Her nickname since she was born, given to her by her grandmother.

No one outside of her family calls her Betty. It was reserved only for the most special of people.

She went running off to the fenced off yard, going on a search for dandelions.

"Elizabeth, come over and say hi," she heard her mother's voice.

She looked up to see her parents, Caterina and Brandon Sanchez, standing with a family of four. Elizabeth made her way over, a little shy.

"Elizabeth, this is the Barnes family, they live across the street," her father says.

"Hi," she timidly says.

"Hello Elizabeth," the mother said introducing her family, "My name is Winnie, and this is George, and these two are James and Rebecca."

Elizabeth shook hands with the adults, and looked at the two kids standing with them. Rebecca was clearly a little younger than she was, possibly four or five years old. James looked to be about her age.

"You and James are actually going to be in the same class when you start school on Monday," her mother tells her.

"Hi," James lifted his hand in an awkward wave.

"Hi," she waved back.

"Why don't you two go play?" Winnie tells her son.

"Um okay," James says walking away following Elizabeth back to the yard.

"What were you doing?" James asks Elizabeth.

"Looking for dandelions to make wishes," she tells him.

"Oh, okay," he says looking down at the grass in the search for dandelions.

"What are you trying to wish for?" he asks her.

"Can't tell ya," she looks over at him, "If I did it won't come true."

"I don't think that's true," he says.

"Yes, it's just like how you're not supposed to tell anyone what you wish for on your birthday."

"I always tell Steve what I wish for, and my wishes come true," he tells her.

"Really?" she asks surprised.

"Yeah, like for my birthday this year I had wished for a brand new bike, and I told Steve and I got the bike," he shrugs his shoulders.

"Oh. Who's Steve?"

"My best friend. He lives two blocks over. You'll probably meet him Monday. He's in our class as well," he tells her, "We ride our bikes to school everyday. You can join us if you want."

"Oh, thank-you," she hesitantly says looking at her fingers, "but I don't know how to ride a bike."

"You don't know how to ride a bike?" he stops looking for dandelions, shocked at Elizabeth's sudden revelation.

"No," she shakes her head, her brunette curls hitting her face a little, "my dad is busy with work and my mom doesn't know how to ride one either."

"No, no," James shakes his head, "we cannot have that. I will teach you. You can use my old bike to learn."

"You don't have to do that James," she says nervously.

Truth be told Elizabeth's dad has tried to help her ride a bike but after that first fall, she had sworn to never to do it again. Her parents kept trying to persuade her but after a year of failed attempts they donated her bike.

"Please call me Bucky," he says, "only my parents call me James. My friends call me Bucky."

"Friends?"

"Yeah, we're friends now," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "and as your friend I will teach you how to ride a bike. Okay?"

Bucky had a big grin on his face and Elizabeth couldn't help but to smile as well.

"Okay," she agreed.

For the next two weeks Bucky had spent every free moment teaching Elizabeth how to ride a bike. Some days Steve would help as well. Elizabeth did end up meeting Steve Rogers that following Monday at school. He was just as nice as Bucky was, maybe even nicer. Both boys had welcomed her with open arms into their little duo.

The sight was a funny thing to those walking by and to their parents. A seven year-old teaching another seven year-old how to ride a bike. Bucky holding onto the back seat as Elizabeth tried to balance and peddle. Sometimes their parents would offer the help but Bucky would wave them off, telling them that he told Elizabeth that he would be the one teaching her, and he was very adamant not to let any grown ups help.

"I can't do it Bucky," Elizabeth grumbled getting back up after falling down for the tenth time that hour.

"Yes you can. You just need to not be afraid," he tells her, "You're too scared, so of course you're going to fall. Just don't think about it."

"How can I not think about it," she whines.

"Just try not to," he says, "Just focus on peddling and balancing. Nothing else."

Elizabeth looked at him like he had three heads. Not understanding what he was saying at all. She really just wanted to be done with the whole bike thing but Bucky wouldn't let her. He was determined to get her riding a bike before Halloween. Which was only three days away.

Bucky's and Steve's parents had agreed to let the boys go riding on their bikes around the neighborhood alone for trick-o-treating this year. And Bucky really wanted Elizabeth to join them as well, he felt bad if she was stuck behind trying to keep up with them on her legs.

"It's impossible James," she says, letting the bike hit the floor and stomping over to her front porch steps.

"Come on Elizabeth, just one more try," he begs, "you almost got it. I promise. If you can't do it this last time, then we can give up."

"Really?"

"Yes, I pinky promise," he says sticking out his right pinky.

"Okay," she said getting up linking her pinky with his.

"Alright," he says, "remember just breathe and focus on peddling and balancing."

Elizabeth got back on the bike and took a deep breath, while Bucky held the bike from behind.

"Ready?"

"Ready," she nods her head, getting a sudden urge of confidence.

Bucky began pushing the bike, while Elizabeth began pumping her feet. After a few feet, Bucky let go. Elizabeth began feeling the bike wobble.

"Focus," Bucky yelled running behind the bike.

Elizabeth began to focus on the task at hand.

"Focus," she began to mutter to herself like a mantra.

"You're doing it," Bucky exclaims raising his little fists high in the sky.

Elizabeth looked down to notice that she is doing it, she's riding her bike.

"I'm doing it!" She yells out loud.

Their giggles filling the air as she made a small turn back towards Bucky. She began squeezing the brake handle, to slow down. She came to a stop in front of Bucky's house.

"I did it!"

"You did it!" Bucky ran back over his smile just as big as her's.

"Thank you Bucky," she happily says throwing her arms around him.

He hugged her back, "Now you can go trick-o-treating with Steve and I Friday night."

That Friday Elizabeth was buzzing. She was excited not just because it was Halloween but because now she knew how to ride a bike and can go trick-o-treating with Bucky and Steve. They all agreed to dress up as pirates for Halloween and decorating their bikes like it was their pirate ships. Elizabeth was still borrowing Bucky's old one, her parents were planning on getting her her own one this weekend so she can start riding with the boys to school.

Elizabeth has had friends before, but nothing like this. At her old school she would only see her friends at school, and sometimes at birthday parties but she never felt like she belonged, even at seven years-old. She was different then a lot of little girls, yes she loved to play with dolls and dress-up but she also loved to read.

Her mom used to be a librarian before deciding to be a stay-at-home mom to raise Elizabeth. So books were always at the ready, she wanted to make sure her daughter understood how important reading was to the world. How important stories were. A little escape inside a little book. The girls at her old school didn't understand her fascination with books, but here, Steve and Bucky loved to read as well. And they even gave her a couple of comic books that they had so she can read and know what they were sometimes talking about. She really liked these friends.

Her mom was finishing the touches to Elizabeth's hair, as she stood their fidgeting standing on a stool in front of the mirror in her bathroom.

"Excited?" her mother smiled at her daughter in the mirror.

"Yeah! I can't wait," she smiled brightly showing off her teeth, the two in the front missing having fallen out the night before.

"Remember to stay with Steve and James," her mother reminds her.

"I know mommy."

"And only stay within the neighborhood, you're still new at riding a bike, so be careful."

"I know mommy," Elizabeth sighs.

"And no talking to strangers," she says, putting the pirate hat on top of Elizabeth's contained curls.

"I know mommy."

Caterina helped Elizabeth down the step stool and bent down at her daughter's level.

"I know you know sweetheart, but mommy just needs to hear it again, okay," she softly says.

"Okay, mommy," she nods her head, "I'm going to stay with Steve and Bucky, and we are only trick-o-treating in our neighborhood. And no talking to strangers."

"Perfect," her mother smiled kissing her nose, causing Elizabeth to crinkle her nose and smile.

The doorbell rang.

"Betty, Pirate Steve and Pirate James are here," her father calls from downstairs.

Elizabeth runs down grabbing her candy bag on the way.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," her mother calls out running down the stairs with a camera in hand.

"One quick picture," she says pointing the camera on the kids.

Bucky and Steve stood on either side of Elizabeth, their arms draped around her shoulders smiling brightly, some with missing teeth.

"Perfect," her mother smiles, "be careful."

"We will Mrs. Sanchez," Steve nods.

"Have fun," her father calls out as the three kids run towards their bikes.

"Betty?" Bucky asked Elizabeth as they put on their helmets.

"Uh yeah, it's my nickname my family calls me," she tells him, hoping onto her bike.

"I like it," Bucky smiled, getting on his bike.

The three kids spent their night riding around their neighborhood going door to door asking for candy.

Bucky and Elizabeth said bye to Steve as they approached his house on the way back to their own.

After quickly dumping their bikes, and Elizabeth letting her parents know she's going across the street to go over to Bucky's, they were sprawled on Bucky's bedroom floor going through their candy. Trading with each other.

Bucky's mom was still out with Rebecca trick-o-treating while his dad was working late.

"Okay I'll trade you two hershey's for two packs of sour patch kids," Bucky bargained.

"Okay, deal," Elizabeth said handing over her candy.

A sound of a car door slamming followed by loud swearing alarmed Bucky. He quickly ran over to his window to see his father stumbling through the front yard. His eyes were alarmed.

"Hurry, clean up the candy," Bucky quickly rushed over to Elizabeth, putting the candy back into their bags.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked.

Bucky didn't respond, just quickly putting the candy away when the slam of he front door made both of them jump. He quickly turned off his bedroom light.

"James Buchanan Barnes!" his father yelled.

"Quickly, go into the closet," Bucky grabbed both bags of candy before quickly rushing Elizabeth and himself into his closet, closing the doors behind them.

"Bucky?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Shh, please," he whispered to her, eyes widened with fear.

"James Buchanan Barnes where the fuck are you?" his father slurred, reaching outside his door.

"Your fucking bike James, you are in so much trouble," his father angrily said, opening his son's bedroom door to find it empty and dark.

"Fucking kid," his dad slurs before knocking one of Bucky's figurines off of the shelf by his door.

He closed the door behind him before retreating to his own bedroom.

Elizabeth stood there in fear. She has never seen an adult that mad before. Not even when she accidentally broke one of her dad's ships in a bottle.

She looked over to Bucky who had his eyes closed and tears streaming down his face.

"Bucky," she whispered, "are you okay?"

"You need to go home," he whispered, quietly opening his closet door.

"Okay," she agreed, grabbing her candy bag and handing Bucky his.

Bucky quietly opened his bedroom door and peaked out to make sure the coast was clear. He and Elizabeth quietly made their way down the stairs. Once they were safely out of the house Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief.

Bucky walked her over the where the bikes were left on the grass by the driveway.

"Please don't tell anyone what happened," he says finally breaking the silence, "Not even Steve."

"Okay," she nodded her head.

"Pinky promise," he said holding out his pinky.

Elizabeth hesitated at first, but reluctantly hooked her pinky to his.

"Hi kids," they heard the friendly voice of Bucky's mom walking through the front gate.

"Hi," both kids forcefully smiled.

"Did you guys have a good time trick-o-treating?" she smiled, holding the hand of Rebecca who was dressed like Blue from Blue's Clues.

"Yes we did Mrs. Barnes, we got a lot of candy," Elizabeth spoke up.

"Good. You heading home?"

"Yeah I am," she waved goodbye grabbing the bike to walk it across the street to her own house.

"Have a goodnight sweetie," Bucky's mom smiled.

"Bye Ewizabeth," called out Rebecca.

"Bye," she waved to the little girl.

Winnie turned to her son who had been quiet the entire time.

"You okay honey?" she asked, furrowing her brows in concern.

"Yes, dad's home," he told her, as if she already knew what that meant.

"Oh okay," she nervously swallowed, "Can you please help Becca get ready for bed?"

He nodded his head, and turned to where Elizabeth was heading inside her house.

Elizabeth walked inside her house finding her mom and dad sitting on the couch in the living room watching tv.

"Hi sweetie, how was it?" her dad asked, turning down the volume on the tv.

Elizabeth scurried over to her parents and sat right in between them.

"It was fun," she smiled, keeping her promise to Bucky.

The next day Elizabeth wandered over to the Barnes' house. Normally Bucky would come get her early Saturday afternoons to play. But now it was nearly three o'clock and she hasn't seen or heard from him since she said goodbye last night.

She pressed the doorbell and waited for someone to answer the door.

Mrs. Barnes opened the door slightly, just enough for her to peek her head out at the small child standing on her porch.

"Oh hi Elizabeth," she hesitantly greeted, holding the door as to not expose the inside to the outside world.

"Hi Mrs. Barnes can Bucky come out and play?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, not today," she said, then a loud crash was heard from the inside.

Mrs. Barnes quickly turned her head in to see what happened.

"Who's at the door Winifred?" Elizabeth hears Mr. Barnes yell.

"No one," she called out before turning back to Elizabeth, "Go home okay sweetie. I'll let Bucky know you stopped by."

The older woman quickly rushed back in closing the door behind her.

Elizabeth stood there for a couple of seconds before retreating back home.

Later that night Elizabeth was up in her room playing with her dolls when her parents walked in carefully sitting on her bed.

"Betty?" her mother calls.

"Yes mommy?" she looked up from the floor to see her parents who both had worried expressions on their faces.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Come here," her father patted the spot in between him and his wife.

Elizabeth got up and sat down.

"Bucky and Rebecca will be staying over tonight, along with their mom," her father tells her.

"Like a sleepover?"

"Yes, kind of." her mother said brushing her daughters curls with her hand.

"Why? Is it because his daddy's been mean?" she asked looking between her parents.

"What? Why do you say that?" her mother stops what she was doing, taken by surprise by her daughter's response.

"I promised I wouldn't tell Bucky," Elizabeth glanced at her feet biting her bottom lip, and kicking her feet softly.

"Tell what?"

"His daddy came home very mad yesterday, yelling bad words. Bucky had us hide in the closet and pretend we weren't there," she tells her parents.

"Oh sweetie, you should've told us," her mother said, wrapping her arm around Elizabeth to bring her closer.

"I promised Bucky I wouldn't. I didn't want him to get in trouble."

"Oh honey, he wouldn't have gotten in trouble, you would've been helping him," her father says.

"I pinky promised. You're not supposed to break pinky promises," she looks at her father, eyes so serious.

"Sometimes promises can be broke, even pinky promises, if someone is in trouble. Okay?" her father leans his head closer to her's looking her in the eyes.

"Okay. I'm sorry," she apologized.

"You don't have to apologize. You thought you were doing the right thing and protecting your friend," he tells his daughter placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Let's get you ready for bed okay," her mom says.

"I'll go get the other bedding for the extra bed in here," her father said pointing his head at the other bed in Elizabeth's room.

An hour later Bucky and Elizabeth are sat on opposite sides of the room in their own beds, both in their pajamas reading.

"I'm sorry Bucky," Elizabeth quietly says.

"It's okay, it's not your fault," he responds looking up from his comic book, "My dad has been that way since before you even moved here."

"Does he scare you?"

"Yes, but Ma always tells me to take Becca and hide in my room, and sometimes when Dad gets too loud or mean we hide in my closet with the lights off. He can't get us if the lights are off," he tells her.

"You can always live here," Elizabeth perks up at the idea, "You, Becca, and your mommy. You guys can live here."

"He'll still find us," Bucky sadly says.

"Then you and I will move. Far far far away. Just us two," she says getting off of her bed and sitting on his.

"We can pack up our sweaters and toys and move somewhere far, where no one can find us," she says eyes wide at the thought, "Maybe we can even become pirates. Pirates live on the sea where no one but mermaids can find them. You'll be safe. Your dad won't be able to hurt you because no one wants to mess with pirates. I will protect you."

"Thanks Betty, but I can't leave behind my mom and Becca," he says, "They'll miss me too much, and I'll miss them. Plus I haven't even learned how to tie my shoes yet."

"Yeah, and I'll miss my mommy and daddy too," she realizes. She gets off of his bed and tucks herself back into her own getting ready to turn out the lights as Bucky does the same thing.

"How about when we are older?" Bucky says in darkness.

"Okay," she agrees smiling in the dark, "When we are older you and I will go away and become pirates."

"Deal?"

"Deal."

Both kids fall asleep with a smile on their faces, dreaming of the their life as pirates. Far away from their little homes in Brooklyn, New York.

Oh the possibilities.

#folklore song series #folklore #folklore taglist #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x OC!Reader #buckyxOC!Reader #modern day au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes modern day au #bucky barnes modern day #original character series #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky x original female character #modern au #bucky barnes angst #seven #taylor swift folklore #taylor swift seven

[thdorkmagnet]

Where in the World is Janna Ordonia?

Hello everyone! Here is my Carmen Sandiego AU/ Master Theif Janna AU, whichever you want to call it! So this is, as you probably guessed, inspired by the new Netflix series "Carmen Sandiego". Ever since I watched the first episode I've been picturing Janna filling this role so much and I just had to write it! But I did change some things around from the show like making Janna a straight up thief rather than a thief who only steals from other thieves. This will also be a Jantom fic since I don't think there are nearly enough of those out there right now and I wanted to help add to the collection. This ship needs more love!

Also big shout out to Andychipss for the awesome cover art! If you get a chance check her out over on Instagram! She always does an incredible job!

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters belong to Daron Nefcy and Disney. Carmen Sandiego belongs to Broderbund Software, Netflix and Lauren Elliott. All right go to them.

The city of lights was dazzling that particular evening, its namesake casting a brilliant and beautiful glow across all of Paris. Even the dark corners seemed to hold a life to them, making the whole city feel as peaceful and romantic as they say. And on one particular rooftop stretching high above the paved streets below stood a young woman. She wore a black long-sleeve shirt with matching pants and long black boots, giving her the outward appearance of a shadow herself. But blending in would be rather difficult for her since over that she wore a bright red trench coat and matching fedora. Her short dark hair hung slightly out from beneath her hat. She had tanned skin and brown eyes. Her appearance was eye-catching that was for sure, which was why it was a strange choice of attire coming from one of the most elusive and legendary thieves in the world. Her name which was known across the world was Janna Ordonia, the Scarlet Thief.

The girl looked coolly out from under the brim of her hat, holding a pair of small binoculars to her eyes. From her sight, she spotted her next target up ahead, a museum. She watched as some security guards made their rounds, in the exact pattern she memorized over the last few days of staking the place out. "Predictable," she sighed slipping the pocket-sized spying device into her coat pocket. "I was hoping for a bit more of a challenge," she groaned in boredom.

"Well y'know, you could wait until Acme shows up," came a voice from inside the communication device in her ear. "You know some of their agents are on your trail since you set fire to that shop earlier today." His voice was accusing now, clearly trying to make her feel guilty for her crime.

But Janna was unaffected by the attempt, saying plainly, "Come on, Alfonso, I can hardly be blamed for that, they were asking for it."

"How?" Alfonso asked in exasperation.

"Charging 30 bucks for a stupid model of the Eiffel tower is insane!" Janna scoffed. "And they call me a thief."

The young hacker just sighed burying his head in his hands. "Anyways, am I all clear to head inside?" Janna asked returning the conversation back to the task at hand.

Alfonso complied, doing a few keystrokes on his computer, but still grumbling under his breath in annoyance. "Yeah, hang on," he mumbled, shutting down all security in the museum as if it were no big deal. "There, done. But you better do this job fast before someone realizes it's down."

"Hey no problem, fast is my middle name," Janna said, doing a quick stretch to loosen up her muscles. It was important to stay flexible in this line of work.

"I thought you didn't have a middle name," Alfonso pointed out.

"Well I just gave myself one," the girl replied, before leaping off the roof. As she fell she whipped out a grappling gun she kept in her sleeve, firing it and attaching it to another building's side. She felt the string go taint as she sailed around the side of the building, detaching it fluidly off the wall before flying into an opened window and right into the museum.

Her feet hit smooth tile as she tried to slide to a delicate stop. But she didn't predict her momentum correctly as she stopped just short of hitting a wall and knocking a small pedestal holding some priceless vase on it. Janna didn't even have time to dive for it before it hit the floor and shattered into a million pieces. The young thief sucked in a breath waiting to see if the loud noise had attracted any guards, but after a couple beats of silence, Janna declared it a false alarm and let her body relax once more.

Alfonso, however, was less calm, as his squeaky voice spoke up from Janna's earpiece, "What was that noise?! Janna did you break something!"

Janna scoffed, kicking the fragmented pieces under a nearby fancy rug. "Aw, relax I'm sure it wasn't that important."

"Janna!" The young hacker screamed and the girl was tempted to take the earpiece off to avoid the inevitable rant but settled for merely reminding her friend, "Better keep your voice down, Al. Wouldn't want to wake your roommate."

The audible groan through the earpiece was her reward as she sauntered superiorly though the quiet museum, keeping her eyes peeled for her target. Alfonso's roommate Ferguson often got on the young hacker's nerve, especially when they were on a caper. The loudmouthed teen seemed to have no self-control as he would frequently butt in and distract Al while he was trying to hack, getting overeager and nosy over what the two were doing (treating it more like a game than a life or death situation), and just being a general nuisance, which frayed Alfonso's last nerve. But this seemed to do the trick as the boy stopped with his incessant whining and Janna was able to enjoy a couple minutes of silence, taking everything in. She walked with practiced ease through the marble halls, making sure her footsteps made no sound as she traveled deeper inside. Her brown eyes scanned the area, alert and precise, despite her relaxed posture, taking in slow breaths of musty air.

She always loved being in a dark museum at night, the empty and quiet always soothing to her. As much as she loved chaos, even Janna couldn't deny how beautiful and simplistic a simple trip through the abandoned hallways could be. It was like looking into a hidden world, a peek behind the curtains. During the day, the museum was close to bursting with tourists and tour groups and kids on school field trips, making the experience feel cheapened and hallow. But at night, that was when the museum could truly be itself, no lights, no spectacles, no overzealous explanations of what made its contents art, it could just exist and allow its art to speak for itself. And that was something Janna could relate too.

Her eyes glance lazily around at the paintings and sculptures and all forms of artistic achievements, each one a masterpiece in its own right and each one probably worth a fortune. But none of them were what she was looking for. She had a much bigger prize in mind.

The girl came to a stop in front of a large painting, the image a portrait of a sailor, the delicate paint strokes perfectly encapsulating the man's gruff demeanor. Janna cocked her head to the side as if admiring it closely as she said into her earpiece, "Alfonso, I'm at the painting."

"Great, the panel should be behind it, I've overwritten the security codes but you'll have to pick the lock yourself," the hacker replied, all business now.

Janna smiled mischievously. "Not a problem." She took a step closer to the painting, saying softly to the image, "Sorry about this, captain." She gently grabbed the painting's frame, lifting it off its hook and moving it as carefully and quietly as she could. As she did she noticed that her eyes were now level with the deep angry eyes of the painting and she muttered under her breath, "Hey, don't give me that look. You brought this on yourself." Without another word, she set the painting down on the opposite wall, before turning back to her next objective. It was a small safe, made of thick unbreakable metal, and Janna could see it had two sets of locks on its smooth surface, an electronic lock with a small series of buttons and a panel, as well as a combination lock next to it. On closer inspection, Janna could see that Alfonso had already done his part, the panel flashing the word "Entry". Now all that was left was for Janna to do her part.

Janna cracked her knuckles, flexing them a little to make sure they were nice and loose. She carefully grabbed hold of the small turn-style knob, putting her ear up to the door as she began to ever so slowly move the knob left. Soon she heard a click echo through the cold metal and smiled, immediately turning the knob the other way, waiting for the next click to sound. She continued on with this meticulous task, making sure to move slowly and preciously with each turn of the dial. Until finally, the last click sounded and she took a step away, whispering smugly, "Child's play."

With one swift motion, she turned the handle and pulled the safe door open, staring inside with a victorious smile. Inside the small metal box sat a plain black briefcase with a simple lock that took the highly skilled Janna only a minute to pick. She flicked up the latches before opening the container, wanting to make sure she had the correct package. And just as she had predicted inside sat a small golden statue sealed tight in the foam covering they had carefully placed around it so it wouldn't be jolted or damaged. The statue was in the shape of a woman, a ballerina, her arms raised in a graceful and beautiful pirouette.

"Is it there?" Al asked nervously, he always got anxious when he couldn't identify the item firsthand.

Janna whistled, eying the statue closely as she muttered under her breath, "Oh it's here all right."

The young hacker let out a sigh of relief, before saying, "Good."

"Must be pretty special if our client wants it so badly," Janna commented.

"The Golden Dancer is one of the rarest statues in the world. It is one of a set of three identical statues kept in hidden locations around the globe. They originated in-"

"Geez, Professor Al, I didn't ask for the history lesson," Janna interrupted, sealing the briefcase back up and closing the safe. It was time to cover her tracks. Hopefully, no one would even notice it was even missing, at least for a while.

Alfonso let out a groan of annoyance but decided to change the subject, informing the girl instead, "Okay Janna, you'll need to be extra careful moving around the statue, we don't want to risk damaging it."

"Come on, Al, we've worked together for how long now?" Janna told him, setting the large painting back in its place from before. "Don't you know me better than that by now."

"The fact that I know you so well is exactly why I said something," Alfonso deadpanned.

Janna made a hurt scoff into the tiny device, telling him, "Well that's just rude." Her face showed a different story though, as she just smirked and nodded in satisfaction at her work. The painting was now perfectly aligned on the wall again, not an inch of it out of place, you couldn't even tell it had been moved at all. She picked up the briefcase, saying smugly, "Okay, now I think it's about time for my dramatic exit."

Just then a loud shout sounded from elsewhere in the museum, the echoed voice bouncing around the walls and Janna turned to it with a start. "Jan, what was that?" a nervous voice asked in her ear, Alfonso clearly hearing the voice too.

Janna, however, just whispered softly to herself, "Hmm, I was wondering when they'd show." Her smirk widened as she added, "This should be fun."

…

The two Acme agents walked side by side through the dark museum, both on high alert, their eyes darting as they meticulously searched the room for any threats. Well the young man was, the other seemed too entranced by every painting, sculpture, and statue they came across, her blue eyes gleaming with admiration as she looked over each piece of art. This wasn't the only contrast between the two, the two seeming to be as different as night and day, despite their similar style. Both wore fancy black suits (the standard for all Acme agents) but where the boy's was well-pressed and had not a crease out of place, the girl's was wrinkled in a few places but still quite beautiful on her slim frame. The man's short spiky brown hair was perfectly styled and lay even on his tanned face, his brown eyes narrowed in grim determination, which was almost thwarted by the adorable mole just under his left eye. His blood-red tie was a stark contrast to the pure white dress shirt he wore underneath his suit. The girl's long blond locks seemed to almost flow down her back, a small blue butterfly clip resting just above her bangs. She had on a carefree smile and walked with a noticeable skip in her step. She had on a dark blue tie and wore a black skirt and dark blue stockings rather than the dress pants of her partner. The only similarity the two seemed to share were the matching golden rings they both wore on their right hands.

"Do you really think someone is in here, Marco?" the blond asked, her eyes still gazing around in curious innocence.

"Well according to our intel-" the boy began.

"Meaning you," his partner interrupted, giving him a teasing look.

Marco smiled and blushed slightly. "Well, yeah. I mean, I am a man of many talents." He cleared his throat, willing away his blush before continuing in a matter-of-fact tone, "Anyways, Star, I heard news that the Scarlet thief was recently spotted in this area earlier today after setting fire to a local shop..."

"Classic Janna," Star commented.

"And then the whole security grid for the museum just happens to go offline the same day," Marco continued. "A place where they are keeping one of the rarest and most priceless statues in the world, mind you. Seems just a bit too suspicious if you ask me."

Star shrugged, saying, "Makes sense to me."

"In fact, Janna is probably in here right now, so we need to stay focused and not get distracted by anything."

"Got it," Star said, doing a small salute. But as she turned her head she let out a small gasp, grabbing onto her partner's arm and squealing, "Oh my gosh, Marco. Look at that adorable painting of a kitty! I have to take a picture of it!" the girl pulled out her phone but it was quickly snatched out of her grip.

"Star," Marco scolded, pulling his arm free of his girlfriend's surprisingly strong grip. "We aren't tourists, we have a job to do, remember?"

"Okay..." the girl muttered, giving him a pouting look that caused Marco's stomach to do flips at how adorable she looked. But he held back his coo as he simply nodded and told her, "Good."

The two had only gone a few more steps before something new caught Star's eye, the girl saying, "Look Marco it's a unicorn vase, ooohhh I want one!"

"Starrrr," the boy said, gaining the girl's attention before gently reminding her, "Focus."

"Right, right," Star said, nodding, her eyebrow now furrowed in determination. "Focus, I got this."

The two continued on a few more steps only for Star to gasp in shock again, causing Marco to sigh in annoyance. "What is it now?" he asked in defeat. Star quickly pointed up at one of the large statues towering over them. A big, hulking ox looking thing with an angry expression on its stone face. "Oh my gosh, Marco that statue guy looks just like you!"

"What, that looks nothing like me?!" the boy exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips as he gave the girl an angry glare.

Star had to fight to hold in her laughter as the boy's expression and demeanor matched the statue creature perfectly, the girl barely managing to stifle her chuckle by slapping a hand over her mouth.

"I don't know, Marco, I think it's pretty spot on?" a voice said behind the pair, and Star and Marco both turned to see Janna staring down at them from the floor above, leaning against the railing with a casual ease.

"Janna," Marco growled under his breath, reaching into his jacket pocket and whipping out his stun gun. He aimed it up at the thief, shouting out, "Don't move!" Star did the same next to him, yelling up at their target, "Hands in the air!"

"Well, which is it?" Janna asked, an eyebrow slowly raising but making no sign of complying.

The two agents shared a look, their cheeks now slightly pink, before Marco said in slight annoyance, "Just stay where you are."

"Sure, no problem there," Janna said, leaning a little heavier on her arm. "I'm quite comfortable up here."

"Well hopefully you'll be just as comfortable in prison, cause that's where you're headed, Janna Ordonia," Marco commented bitterly.

Janna scoffed, shaking her head. "I see you haven't changed any, Diaz." She paused looking over at Star before asking, "So how have you been, Star?"

"Oh, I'm great," Star replied brightly.

"Hey, don't change the subject!" Marco shouted.

"What? I'm just seeing how you two have been. It's been a couple of months since the last time we hung out, after all."

"If by 'hung out' you mean you swiping my wallet and using it to buy drinks for every pub in Ireland," Marco muttered in annoyance.

"Hey, you should be thanking me, you're a local hero there, now," Janna replied.

Marco's eyebrow twitched, but he said nothing more. There was never any point in fighting with Janna.

"Look, Janna," Star took over, picking up on her boyfriend's increasing annoyance. "We all know you stole something from the museum so why don't you hand it over and then we can-"

"Whoa, hang on a second!" Janna interrupted her face and voice showing interest for the first time since they had arrived as her eyes finally spotted the matching rings on the agents' hands. "Since when have you two been engaged!" She quickly picked up on the intense blush that soon coated the young couple's cheeks, as well as the quick loving look that passed between Star and Marco, before their focus returned to Janna.

"For a few weeks now..." Star admitted, clearly overjoyed to be confessing this, even if it was to their enemy.

"Unbelievable, I can't believe you two didn't tell me!" Janna scoffed out, shaking her head in disapproval.

Marco rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Maybe because it's none of your business."

"So how did it happen?" the thief asked, leaning closer to the two, her eyes shimmering with questions.

The brown-haired boy opened his mouth to remind her once again that their personal life was none of her business, only for his fiance to blurt out in an excited squeal, "Oh my gosh, it was the sweetest thing, Janna. You should have seen it. One minute we're beating up a group of VILE agents, the next Marco's down on one knee proposing!" Star let out a long sigh at the memory, putting a hand to her blushing cheek, her shoulder just barely touching her finance's side. "It was so romantic."

"So, where's the wedding going to be?" Janna asked with genuine interest.

"We decided to have it in Marco's old hometown," Star replied instantly. "Nothing too fancy, just a simple wedding with our closest friends and families. Don't want to attract too much attention, y'know."

"Staarr," Marco whispered to her in warning, trying to remind his future wife not to divulge too much information to the perceptive thief. He knew she was excited and everything but Janna was the last person he had wanted to know about their special day, considering her track record for making his life miserable every chance she got.

"Huh, sounds nice," Janna commented from above, sounding genuine and sincere, even going as far as to flash them what could almost pass for a warm smile. But Marco wasn't buying any of her act, he had been fooled by her one too many times. "So when can I expect my invite?" she added.

"Uhh, never," Marco deadpanned.

Janna gave the boy a fake hurt look, feigning ignorance as she asked, "What, why not?"

"Maybe because we don't want a common criminal hanging around during our wedding," the boy snapped, giving her an accusing glare.

"Plus, we're kinda arresting you, soooo," Star added, with an apologetic shrug. At that, the two agents held their guns up once more, their gazes hardening as they kept their focus and attention on their target.

The young thief let out a dejected sigh, sitting up and turning her back on the two but still keeping a light grip on the railing behind her. "Fine, I see how it is," she said in the saddest tone she could muster, watching out of the corner of her eye to see if they would let their guard down any.

She inwardly smirked as Star lowered her gun just an inch, her face softening in sympathy, while Marco only seemed to grow more suspicious, his eyebrows somehow furrowing more than they already were. "Look, Jan, just toss us down the briefcase and we won't have to use force," Marco said in a slow, even tone, but Janna easily caught onto the hidden threat that lay beneath.

She let out a deep sigh, before saying softly, "Whatever you say." The next few seconds went by in a flash as Janna instantly turned and jumped over the railing, now falling back to the first story. Star and Marco flinched, Janna seeing their fingers tightening on the triggers of the stun guns but before either could react fully, the girl threw the briefcase in her hands, it smacking directly into Marco's chest causing the boy to grunt in pain and surprise and crash to the floor hard. Star turned to her boyfriend in fear, Janna forgotten as she screamed out a panicked, "Marco!"

Janna, meanwhile, quickly shot out a grappling line from inside her sleeve, where it roughly attached to the ceiling. The string went taunt allowing the young thief to soar over the two agent's heads. She detached the line, tucking into a roll as she hit the ground and soon she was back on her feet once more.

Janna turned, seeing Star checking on her partner, who was more stunned than hurt and didn't even hesitate to shoot out another grapple line which latched onto the forgotten handle of the briefcase, before being zipped back over to her at record speed. Janna caught it with practiced ease, looking smugly over to the pair of agents now shooting her confused but angry glares, and she merely winked and tipped her hat toward them, saying in her typical sarcastic wit, "Thanks for holding onto that for me. But I think I'll be going now."

The thief took off at a run, knowing it would only be a few seconds before the two agents pursued her with a fiery vigor and she needed to put as much distance between her and them as possible. And just as she predicted within seconds Janna heard a loud voice shout, "Hey wait!" and she increased her speed, heading straight for the top floor of the building.

Star helped Marco to his feet before the two quickly ran after the escaping thief, the latter growling under his breath for being outsmarted again by the willy Janna. He ignored the slight heat in his cheeks, keeping his focus entirely on his target, whose head start was doing little to match his and Star's speed, quickly gaining on the girl.

The door to the roof busted open as Janna emerged, running toward the edge with Star and Marco right on her heels. Janna didn't even hesitate as she jumped off the roof, sailing flawlessly through the air before landing on the rooftop of the next building. She turned to give the two a victorious smirk before running away at top speed again.

Marco and Star, however, were far from beaten, the two racing ahead with no fear or hesitation as they too leaped off the building's side, landing on the next roof in perfect synchronization. Janna turned to see the two chasing after her again and she smiled to herself. This was just the challenge she had been hoping for.

The chase across Paris continued, Janna leaping from rooftop to rooftop, with little to no regard for her own safety, even the breakneck drop that waited below and the cold, bitter wind rushing against her face doing nothing to slow her pace. She began trying to dissuade the two agents from following as she took riskier and more dangerous jumps, knowing from experience that Marco would more than likely take the safest route available, rather than risk injury for him or his girlfriend. That boy was always too overly cautious for his own good, something Janna was hoping to use to her advantage.

But for once, Marco didn't seem to be falling back on his safe ways, keeping pace with his target as he precariously threw himself across every gap he came across. Star happily doing the same, looking like she was having the time of her life, chasing after the elusive thief with her boyfriend.

At this point, Marco's lungs and limbs were screaming at him to stop and allow them to rest. But the boy didn't listen, instead pressing them harder to continue. He was going to catch her this time, he was sure of it. And his hopes rose as he saw the row of buildings was soon coming to an end, instead opening up into a near-empty harbor, the light from the moon catching in the gentle waves and causing the water to shimmer and dazzle. That was definitely too far for even Janna to jump.

The girl seemed to notice this as she brought herself to a stop, just inches away from the edge. She turned to face the two agents, who were both huffing and puffing at this point, exhausted from the long trek over the Paris skyline. But they smiled at her with tired but victorious smirks, Star saying in a gasped breath, "Ha, looks like we win! You're trapped!"

"Just give up, Janna, there's nowhere else for you to run," Marco added, his voice low and full of finality.

"Maybe not," the girl said in a soft tone, keeping her face blank, before she smirked and added cryptically, "But maybe I don't have to." Her eyes snapped over to the waiting harbor below, before returning over to the two agents. Star and Marco gave her quizzical looks for a second before they both gasped in shock, realizing what she was saying.

"Wait, you aren't seriously going to try and jump that, are you?!" Star asked in disbelief, her eyes widening some in worry.

"No way, Star, she's just bluffing!" Marco said confidently.

"Are you sure about that?" Janna asked, taking a step closer to the edge, a gust of wind nearly knocking her hat off her head but she stood unmoving against it, bracing herself against its biting chill.

Star looked over to her boyfriend, cupping a hand around her mouth as she whispered to him, "I don't know, Marco. She seems pretty serious."

The boy agent paused, heeding his girlfriend's advice and giving his target a closer examination, taking in Janna's relaxed and almost teasing posture, her eyes showing no sign of hesitance or concern. Marco inwardly cringed, Star was right she was definitely up to something. But he didn't let it show as he again warned the girl, "You can't make that jump, Janna. Just surrender peacefully and things will go easier for you."

Janna cocked her head to the side, making a big show of thinking this over, tapping a finger against her chin in a clearly mocking manner. "Hmm, I don't know. 'Surrender' and 'peaceful' aren't exactly in my vocabulary." Keeping her gaze locked on the two agents she took a step closer to the edge, her foot now partially off the building, a wide smirk growing on her face as she added, "Besides since when have I ever taken the easy route."

Then, without another word, the girl turned and lunged forward, kicking off of the roof with all her might, sending her form flying smoothly through the air. At the same time, Marco lunged for her, hoping to catch her before she was out of reach. "Oh no you don't!" he screamed, his hand reaching out to grab onto her signature cloak. But he was just milliseconds too short, his fingers barely brushing the bright red fabric before it slipped through his fingertips, leaving him touching nothing but air... and falling quickly and precariously toward the waiting water below. Marco let out a high-pitched scream, his arms flailing in a desperate attempt to somehow slow himself, before splashing into the cold moonlit harbor, a spray of water sent hurtling through the air.

Janna, however, remained as calm as ever, holding out an arm and firing off her grappling gun once again, it easily connecting to the side of a building across the stream before yanking her quickly towards it, the trained thief doing a quick flip in the air before landing expertly on the rooftop.

Star, who had watched the whole display from the safety of the nearby building, muttered to herself, "Oh right, grappling hook. Forgot she had that."

Down below, Marco surfaced, coughing and spluttering as he spat out as much water as he could from his lungs, looking shocked and bewildered from the unexpected dive. His spiked hair now lay flat and clung to his head at awkward angles, his form shuddering in the frigid temperature.

Janna looked smugly down to the young agent and then back up to Star before saying, "Well this has been fun, but I got to run." The girl then began making her way across the rooftop, walking smoothly and steadily now that she didn't have to worry about being pursued. She kept her back to them as she waved her goodbye, shouting, "Congrats on the wedding by the way! Make sure to send me some pictures."

Once the girl was out of sight, Star turned her attention back to her boyfriend, asking in concern, "Marco, you okay?"

The boy let out an exhausted sigh. "I'm fine," he said dejectedly.

"You sure?" Star questioned, not looking quite convinced. "Nothing's hurting?"

"Just my pride," the boy admitted, looking sadly off into the distance, the exact direction his target was now headed.

Star gave her fiance a sympathetic look, before adding, "You want me to go after her."

The boy shook his head, slouching forward as his face hardening into an angry scowl. "Nah, there's no point. She's probably long gone by now."

"Okay well, in that case, I'm coming down to help you," Star replied.

Marco's eyebrow raised in confusion, not quite understanding what his girlfriend was implying. "Wait, what do you mean by-" he started to ask, only to be interrupted by a loud shout above, looking up to see Star diving off the building too, letting out a cheer of excitement as she free-fell through the cold, night air.

"Wait, wait, wait, Star don't, it's too cold!" The boy shouted in warning, waving his hands wildly but it was too late as Star splashed down into the bay right next to him, sending a wave of freezing cold water into his face and leaving him spluttering once more. Star surfaced a second later, water dripping from her bangs as she giggled at her Marco's startled face.

The boy let out a few deep breaths, still in shock from being pelted with the icy cold water but soon found himself smiling too, his fiance's laugh too infectious for him to resist. And pretty soon Marco was laughing too, pressing his forehead to Star's and bringing his arms around her, the two floating on the water's surface as one. "You know we're gonna be in big trouble for not catching Janna, right?" Marco reminded Star, though it was light and warm in comparison to just a few minutes ago.

"Aww, we'll get her next time," Star reassured the boy, cupping his cold cheeks in her hands, the warmth of her fingers causing Marco's whole face to tingle. "Besides, I already know where's she heading."

"Wait, you do?" Marco gasped in surprise.

Star gave her boyfriend a quick wink, saying in a flirty tone, "You're not the only one who can gather intel, y'know." Marco continued to give his partner a disbelieving look, not that he should be too surprised. Star was amazing and when she put her mind to it, there was nothing she couldn't do.

"So where's she headed?" Marco asked curiously.

"Welllll, judging by the direction she was going I would say our Scarlet Thief is heading for the train station. It's only like a block away from here and we both know Janna is known to try and skip town the first chance she gets," Star explained, while her fiance just listened in awe. "So all we gotta do is head over there and find out which train she got on."

"How do you know that?" the boy asked, raising a playful eyebrow at his bride-to-be.

Star shrugged. "Reasons," she said vaguely.

"Like?" the boy pressed, giving her a flirty look he knew she couldn't resist.

Star blushed slightly as she replied, "Let's just say I've had my eye on this place for a while now. You may be in charge of planning the wedding, but I'm in charge of the honeymoon."

The boy instantly froze, his face turning a dark shade of red that easily surpassed the color on his tie. He definitely hadn't been expecting that answer and he had to cough into his hand to clear his tight throat, looking away from the beautiful piercing blue of his girlfriend. "Oh yeah, okay, great, that's uhhh... that's great," the boy muttered nervously, Star holding back a giggle at the embarrassed blush on her Marco's cheeks.

Instead, the blond let out a loving sigh, giving her adorable fiance's small form a quick squeeze, as she squealed out, "Aw Marco, your so cute!" But she quickly added in a determined, serious tone, "But we can flirt later! Right now we got a job to do!"

"Yeah!" Marco shouted, pumping a fist into the air, too, before the two shared a quick high five. Just as their hands connected, a motorboat sped by them, sending a wave of freezing cold water washing over them. Both of the highly trained agents froze in place, their hands still touching as Marco muttered behind chattering teeth, "But first things first, let's get out of this water before one of us freezes to death!"

"Agreed," Star replied, her form shaking in perfect sync with her boyfriend's as they both began furiously swimming for shore and hopefully some much-needed warmth.

…

Janna was able to board the train out of Paris without any complications whatsoever. Mostly due to the fact that Alfonso had purchase Janna a ticket in advance, under his partner's direction, though being sure to give the conductor a fake name since Janna was a very wanted criminal at the moment. The young hacker had shown reluctant at first towards the plan, saying that even with a fake name she could still be recognized and that it would safer to just sneak onboard. But Janna had been quick to argue, saying that Al was just being paranoid and worried too much... which he absolutely did. But despite his concerns, Alfonso had gone ahead with the purchase, making sure Miss Hanna Orlandia had a ticket out of the city.

And just as Janna had predicted, nobody paid her any mind, the conductor barely batting an eye in her direction as he just lazily punched her ticket and sent her on her way. Janna, of course, making a smug comment to Alfonso which caused the boy to groan in annoyance and accept defeat... this time.

From there it had been as simple as stashing the briefcase in one of the storage cars, making sure it was buried under a pile of luggage and wouldn't be accidentally discovered by any noisy passengers, leaving Janna free to enjoy the trip.

She slowly walked through the row of cars looking for her seat, ignoring the irregular shifting beneath her feet as the train carried forth at rapid speed, already fast on its way to her destination. "Sooo that could have gone... better," Al said in her ear, trying to lighten the mood and the girl chuckled.

"Yeah, but we did get to see the power couple so I'd call that a win," she responded, ignoring the weird looks she was getting from the few passengers that went by. "And we just got away scot-free."

"I don't know Janna," Al responded nervously. "This just seemed too easy."

Easy. Yeah for him, maybe, all he had done was sit there and give out directions, Janna was the one who had been in a hot pursuit across Paris with two of the most highly-trained secret agents in the world. "Oh relax Al," Janna replied with a roll of her eyes. He could be so over-dramatic sometimes. "We're fine."

"Yeah, Al relax," came a familiar voice through the earpiece.

"Ferguson! How long have you been up?!"

"Mmm," Ferguson hummed thoughtfully. "Probably about three minutes or so."

"Well if you're up than can you do me a favor and clean the dishes, the sink is full again and it's your turn."

"Whaaaattt nooo," Ferguson whined. "Why can't you do it?"

"Because I'm busy helping Janna," Alfonso explained, sounding exasperated with the discussion already.

"Well let me help Janna and then you can do the dishes," Ferg suggested excitedly.

"No way! I'm not letting you touch my system, you don't know anything about it!" Al argued loudly.

"Aw come on how hard can it be if you do it?"

"Ferg, I said no!"

The speaker quickly filled with the sound of the two wrestling, Alfonso probably trying to push Ferguson back from his expensive and highly breakable equipment. After a few seconds of listening to the annoying grunts of them fighting, Janna pulled out her earpiece, knowing they could go on like this for a while and she was in the mood for some peace and quiet.

She reached her own reserved car, smiling softly to herself as she saw the door was already open, alerting her someone was already inside. And she had a pretty good idea who.

And the moment she stepped inside her smirk widened as her suspicions were proven correct, he was there. He sat with his legs crossed and his arms stretched out on the back of his seat trying to look as casual as possible. His hair was spiked just like she had remembered it and the familiar pink color made Janna inwardly chuckle. He wore a bright red shirt with a star on the front and a long black leather jacket, black gloves with the fingers torn off, and black jeans. His shoes were his typical orange boots. In short, Tom Lucitor looked as great as ever.

He gave her a devilish grin, saying in a smooth tone, "Thought you'd show up, took you long enough, though."

Janna put a hand to her hip and said in the teasing tone she reserved only for her greatest rival, "Aw, Pinkie what a surprise."

The boy's calm demeanor shattered as he growled at the hated nickname. "I told you my hair is salmon!"

"Mmm yeah I'm still gonna call you Pinkie," Janna replied with a shrug, taking the seat across from him.

Tom groaned, crossing his arms in a pouting gesture. "Yep your still as intolerable as ever," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"And your still as angry as ever," the girl replied, leaning back in her seat, crossing her legs and resting her hands behind her head. "So what brings you to Paris, the City of Love, don't tell me you've gone all sappy and turned into a romantic."

"You know me better than that, Jan," Tom replied, flashing her a cocky grin. He leaned forward a bit, before saying in a knowing tone, "And I think you already know why I'm here."

Janna smiled. "Yes, but I wanted to hear you say it."

Tom's gaze narrowed slightly before he began in a threatening tone, "I want you-"

"You want me?" Janna interrupted with a mock look of surprise. "Well looks like you are turning into a romantic."

Tom growled angrily under his breath as he spat out through clenched teeth, "I want you to give me the statue."

"What statue?" Janna asked, feigning ignorance.

Tom just rolled his eyes before snapping, "The Golden Dancer! The one you stole from the museum."

"What makes you think I stole anything?" Janna asked, her cryptic tone never ceasing and the smile on her face told Tom that she was very much enjoying herself, much to his annoyance. "Can't a girl visit Paris without having some ulterior motive?"

"Yes, but you're not most girls," Tom stated simply, and for the first time since she had gotten there Janna's cheeks got the slightest tinge of pink.

"Aww, you flatter me, Tom," Janna cooed coyly, winking at him.

"That wasn't a compliment," Tom stated, trying to hide the joy he felt at making her blush. She was so cute when she was blushing, it almost made him forgive how aggravating she could be.

"Yes, it was," Janna said calling his bluff, and Tom felt his cheeks heat up again against his will, growling to try and hide his embarrassment.

Almost. He almost forgave her. But something told him, she wanted it this way, which was why being around her was so frustrating. She always knew just what to say to set him off. "Look are you gonna give me the statue or do I have to make you," he threatened, wanting to just get to the point and get this whole confrontation over with before he was reminded anymore how much he had missed her. His hand slowly moved to his pocket, making sure his movements were subtle enough she didn't pick up on them.

"Hmmm," she hummed, tapping a finger to her chin, clearly thinking it over or at least pretending to. "Yeah no, I don't think so. I stole it fair and square. You want it so bad you should have stolen it yourself." Tom smirked. "Why would I do that, when I got you?" He leaned forward, his malicious grin widening with every word, looking proud of himself for conning the elusive thief. "I followed you all the way, here, y'know. And I didn't even have to try to find you, you made your presence well known. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were slipping Janna." His hand now grasped the electric stun baton from within the confines of his pocket, ready to draw it out and use it to knock his annoying rival out cold. But then Janna did something unexpected, she leaned in closer to him, freezing the boy in place as his heart began hammering in his chest. Soon their faces were just inches apart, Tom looking deep into Janna's brown gaze, a soft, almost sincere look on her face and he wondered if she was actually opening up to him for once. Her fingers began tracing lines on his shirt as she softly whispered, "Or maybe I wanted you to find me."

Tom tried not to shudder as her warm breath tickled his skin. Her lips were so close now, challenging him, teasing him to move in, but no matter how much he wanted to (oh man did he want to) he knew better than to let his guard down around her. "Wh-Why would you do that?" He asked, trying to hide the squeak in his voice.

And then Janna moved in even closer until her lips were almost touching his as she said in the most honest and sincere tone he had ever heard come from her lips, "Cause I missed you, Tom."

The boy gulped but found himself actually moving in for the kiss, all ulterior motives, all scheme, all logic thrown out the window as he attempted to capture that which he had never yet been able to steal: Janna's affection.

But just before their lips brushed, Tom felt a stinging sensation in his side, which then turned into a powerful burning. He let out a yelp of pain as he looked down, only to see Janna had snatched the baton from his pocket and had it pressed into his side, electrocuting him.

"Sorry, Pinkie," he heard Janna say to him in an apologetic tone, but it was distant and fuzzy as his brain began to shut down. "But you know the first rule of dealing with a thief. Never let them get too close."

Tom let out one last growl of annoyance before he lost consciousness, falling back against his seat, asleep.

Janna pulled the device away the second she saw the boy's eyes close and quickly pocketed the device. It was very nicely made, she might have some use for it in the future. For a few seconds, she just stared at his sleeping face, looking so cute and peaceful you couldn't even tell that beneath lie a hotheaded, temperamental thief. He was too much fun to tease when awake, but asleep he was irresistible. Which was why she couldn't help but lean over and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, letting her armor crack for a second as she whispered to his sleeping form, "See you around, Tom."

She stood, stepping back out into the hallway, giving him one last longing look over her shoulder before closing the door to the train car sealing the sleeping teen inside.

Once she had put some distance between her and her unconscious rival, she slipped her earpiece back on, saying smoothly, "Hey Al, what'd I miss?"

"Janna?!" Came the worried, expected shriek of her friend. It was clear he had been panicking for a while now. "What happened? I lost contact with you. Did something go wrong?"

"Nah, not really," the girl lied instantly. "Must have just had a bad signal there for a while."

"Well that's a relief," Alfonso said with a sigh. "For a minute there I was afraid you ran into that hot-headed rival of yours. That would have been a total disaster."

"Wellllll, actually," the girl said in a purposely overly hesitant way.

Alfonso let out a long sigh. "Spoke too soon," he muttered under his breath.

...

The train pulled into the station an hour later, a crowd of passengers emerging from the train in a hurry, eager to stretch their legs after the long trip. And hiding in plain sight, the thief in red whistled as she strode along, an almost skip in her step as she carried the large briefcase loosely at her side. She made her way to the dock, where a large boat waited for her, giving the captain a wink as she boarded, letting him know it was her and he nodded to tell her he understood. He said something over to one of the crew who ran off to inform them now they were good to go. Not even a minute later the ship was already plowing it's way out of the harbor and heading toward open ocean.

The captain went over to greet her, saying pleasantly enough, "Miss Ordonia, glad to see you made it." His gaze slowly lowered to the briefcase, eying it greedily for a second. "And by the looks of it, your heist was a success."

"Captain Carrots, a pleasure as always," Janna said with a smile. "I trust my colleague already paid you in full."

"Aye yes, your friend already sent us the cash."

"And did he give you my instructions?"

The captain nodded. "Aye, he did."

"Good, then since you know our destination, I'll leave the rest to you," Janna said, going to walk around him but he stepped into her way, blocking her path off.

"Why don't you let me take that off your hands," the captain offered slowly reaching down to grab the briefcase, Janna hearing the greed and desperation in his voice. "Me and my crew will make sure it reaches its buyer safely."

Janna quickly bat his hand away and positioned her body so the briefcase was no longer in his line of sight, wagging a scolding finger at him while clicking her tongue in disappointment. "Nice try, Captain, but I wasn't born yesterday," she said with a smirk, the captain gritting his teeth at her. "And I was given strict instructions by my employer to deliver the statue myself and to make sure I personally handed it over to him. But if you'd like I'd be happy to call and let him know-" Janna made a show of reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone.

"No!" The captain shouted, putting a hand up to try and stop her. Janna gave him a knowing smile as he cleared his throat, continuing much softer, "No that won't be necessary." He plastered on a forced smile that was just priceless to the young thief who was enjoying every second of this, though she made sure not to let it show... not too much at least.

"Good," Janna said, slipping the phone back in her pocket, the superior grin never leaving her face. "Then I'll leave you to your job and you can leave me to mine."

The young thief then pushed her way past the man, leaving the fuming captain alone to rage as she found a seat near the back of the boat, her back literally against the rail that prevented her from falling into the crystal clear waters below her. The second she sat down she felt a lurch as the boat propelled forward at an even faster speed now that they had reached deeper waters, quickly on it's way to Janna's next destination. The girl set the package down at her side, before letting out a relaxed sigh, leaning back in her seat, feeling the cool breeze of the ocean washing over her as she stared out at the picturesque ocean waves for a second.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Alfonso said in her ear.

"What messing with the captain, of course, I did?" The girl admitted, no shame in her tone. "He was trying to con me, so I just let him know who he was dealing with."

"You know, you wouldn't have to do that if you let me hire a law-abiding citizen instead of a dirty, crooked conman."

"Wheres the fun in that? Besides haven't you ever heard the phrase 'honor among thieves'."

"Yes, but the more time I spend with you the more convinced I am that it's a bunch of nonsense," Al deadpanned.

Janna chuckled at that, before saying, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't."

"I know."

Alfonso sighed and she heard the distinct sound of the young genius banging his head against his desk (it wasn't the first time one of their conversations had ended that way and the thief was slightly curious if there was an indent in his desk from how many times he had done it). Janna decided to show a little mercy for her friend and change the subject, saying, "Oh relax, Al. Look on the bright side, we got the painting with minimal damage, got to see our favorite power couple, and even managed to get away from Tom unscathed. Sounds like a pretty successful mission to me."

"Yeah," Alfonso agreed halfheartedly. "Guess there is that. Let's just hope we threw that hothead off our track for a while."

Janna smiled thoughtfully to herself, bringing up the mental image of the handsome thief into her mind. "I don't know, something tells me we'll be seeing him again very soon," she replied, unable to resist adding a knowing edge to her tone that the young hacker picked up on instantly.

"Janna, what did you do?" He asked in exasperation, hoping she hadn't done what he feared she had done. Knowing her, it was entirely likely.

Janna didn't reply, just smiling smugly to herself as she stared across the waves at the fading sunset on the horizon, wondering what the next day would bring her, while her head spun with the image of gorgeous red eyes.

…

Tom was furious the moment he had woken up with a splitting headache and a dry mouth, feeling a bizarre mixture of regret, disappointment, and rage. But mostly rage. And all of it was directed at one soul individual. Stupid Janna! He couldn't believe he had actually fallen for such an obvious trick and he silently cursed himself for actually letting her get too close.

And now here he was, storming through the nearly empty train with a sour scowl on his face. He ignored the few passengers remaining, wanting to just leave without any further complications. Not that he was worried about getting caught since he had swiped a ticket out of some unfortunate soul's pocket when he snuck onboard, he just didn't want to be bothered until he got the chance to cool down. He wasn't sure where he was at this point since he had no clue how much time had passed while he was unconscious, for all he knew he could be in another country, for crying out loud!

Stupid Janna! This was all her fault. If she hadn't tried to-

Tom growled as his cheeks lit up with a blush, willing them back to their normal hue. How could he have been so stupid! He should have known better than to try and actually do that with her. Of course, it was a trick, ugh, how could he be such a moron?!

Suddenly, Tom stopped in his tracks as he spotted a pair up ahead, his heart leaping into his throat as he recognized the well-dressed couple, the boy holding a picture out toward the train conductor while his blond partner practically lay up against him as she stared over his shoulder, these two clearly having no sense of personal space with each other.

Great, Star and Marco were here, as if he didn't have enough to deal with, now he had the two best agents in Acme on his tail and he doubted they'd be all that happy to see him once again. Tom didn't waste any time as he quickly ducked into the empty train car beside him, knowing they were sure to recognize him the moment they spotted him his few run-ins with them memorable enough for him to leave a lasting impression and make him weary from encountering them again. He left the door open only a crack as he listened to the two's conversation while cursing whatever force had decided to give him this string of bad luck.

"Please look closely, sir. Are you certain you haven't seen her, it's very important," Marco asked the conductor, his voice friendly but professional as he pressed the man for more info.

"Hmmm, now that I'm looking at it, I do think I've seen her before, pretty sure she was sharing a car with a young man, I'll go check the books, see if I can find out which car it was," the conductor said, Tom listening as a pair of footsteps faded off into the distance.

Perfect, just perfect, Tom silently groaned. Now those two knew about him! Hopefully, they wouldn't put two and two together-

"Sooo Janna was with a young man, huh? Are you thinking who I'm thinking?" Star said in a knowing tone and Tom winced. Never mind.

"What, Tom?" Marco asked, sounding like he was deep in contemplation. "It could be, but that's a pretty big conclusion to draw Star."

Star scoffed loudly, Tom hearing a light smack (probably the girl lightly tapping her partner's shoulder). "Come on, Marco. It makes total sense. Think about it, those two are always hanging around each other..." Well, she wasn't entirely wrong. "... and you know they can barely keep their eyes off each other." Again, it was true, just not for the reason the blond agent seemed to be drawing.

"So what you think their partners?"

"Well that and also secretly dating," Star added, sounding so proud of herself for figuring it out.

Tom nearly fainted right there, his cheeks filling with so much blood he nearly passed out from blood loss in the rest of his limbs. How could they seriously think he would have any feelings toward his annoying rival other than disgust. But his mind betrayed him, momentarily flashing back to Janna's form slowly moving in for what seemed to be a loving kiss and he vigorously shook his head to relieve himself from the memory, willing down his now racing pulse.

"Dating?" Marco said skeptically. "I mean I guess it's possible..."

"Of course it is!" Star said confidently. "Those two are crazy about each other." She paused before adding in a sappy, loving coo, "Almost as crazy as I am for you."

"Well I don't think anybody could be more in love than I am with you, Star," Marco replied in an equally flirty tone. Tom tried not to gag at the young couple's overly affectionate ways. Could these two be any cheesier?

"Aww Marco, you are too sweet!" Star squealed. She sounded more like a lovesick teenager than a highly trained agent.

The boy let out a long, disheartened sigh as he muttered, "But y'know, I still can't believe I fell for her tricks again!"

Marco face-palmed, flushing in embarrassment as the previous events of the night came back to him, looping through his head and making him feel more and more ridiculous with every cycle. "Why is Janna always one step ahead of us! Every time I think about what happened, I just feel like an idiot." He buried his head in his hands with an audible groan, while out of sight of the two Tom was nodding in agreement and annoyance. He could totally relate.

Star gave her boyfriend a sympathetic look, seeing just how badly he needed cheering up. Luckily, the blond knew just what to do to help. She gave Marco a flirty grin, grabbing onto his tie and lightly pulling him towards her, causing the boy to let out a startled squeak, their faces now mere inches from touching. "Well, I think I know a way to get your mind off of that," she whispered coyly, causing a shudder to jump up Marco's spine.

"Starrr," Marco muttered in embarrassment, his eyes jumping around the empty train car, making sure they were, in fact, alone. "This isn't a good time, we're on a mission, remember? What if someone sees us?"

But Star didn't seem to be giving up, simply replying seductively, "Let em look. I've been waiting to kiss my future husband all day and I'm not waiting any longer." With that, Star moved in for the kill, her fiance's lips about to be captured and claimed by her once more.

Meanwhile, the disgusted Tom was busy debating on either staying quiet or slamming the door open and turning himself in (both of which had some major cons) when the voice of the conductor suddenly cut into the moment, much to Tom's relief, saying pleasantly to the two agents, "Okay I think I found it."

Tom could hear a small shout from the two, followed by noisy shuffling as they obviously pulled apart from each other. The thief could hear a loud cough from Marco (probably trying to clear his tight throat) as he said in a forced, formal tone, "Uhh, good. T-That's excellent news, sir."

There was a pause before the conductor asked, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" the young couple shouted much to quickly and Tom couldn't help but smirk from his hiding spot. Geez, why were they acting all embarrassed? Weren't they about to be married or whatever? "Anyways, what'd you find out?" Marco asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Well according to the record, someone with your description purchased a ticket in advance under the name of Hanna Orlandia," the conductor explained.

Star scoffed loudly, saying in a disappointed tone, "Really, that's the name she went with? Come on, Janna you're more clever than that."

"Star, don't compliment our criminal," Marco scolded.

"I'm just saying, that's kinda a lazy fake name," Star said, defensively.

"Oh yeah, and what would your fake name have been?" Marco asked his girlfriend in a playful tone.

"I don't know maybe something cool like Carmen or something."

"Ummmm, did you want me to go on or-" the conductor asked hesitantly.

"Oh yeah, right," Marco said in realization. "Continue."

"Well, she was staying in train car 15 along with a young man with pink hair." Tom had to suppress the growl he felt rising in his throat. It was salmon, not pink? Why did nobody ever get that?!

"Ah hah!" Star exclaimed in victory. "Told you it was Tom!"

"Yeah, guess you were right. I mean, i don't really know too many guys with pink hair," Marco replied in agreement. Salmon!

"Can you take us to their car? Maybe they left behind a clue or something," Star asked, the conductor immediately complying, saying, "Right this way."

Tom listened intensely as the sound of footsteps retreated deeper into the train, fading into the distance, along with Star's long rant to her boyfriend about how he and Janna were clearly dating and working together (which he did his best to ignore). He waited until they were completely out of earshot before pulling the door to the train car open, doing a quick check left and right before smirking and making his way over to the exit.

Once he was outside on the narrow streets of some unknown city, he picked a random direction and started walking, needing to put as much distance between himself and the two agents as he could. That had been a close one, much closer than Tom liked, but at least he hadn't had to deal with Star and Marco directly. He still had bruises from their last encounter, those two packing a big punch despite their appearance... especially when working as a team. No, as annoying and inconvenient as it had been, it could still have turned out much worse for him.

Sure they knew he had been there, but they wouldn't find anything. That much he was sure of since he had made sure to leave nothing behind that could be used to track him, despite the blinding rage he had felt after-

Tom let out a low growl as the memory of earlier entered his mind, anger filling his chest once again. Right, he had almost forgotten about stupid Janna and her stupid tricks. Why had he even followed her there in the first place? Hadn't he learned by now to steer clear of Janna and her obnoxious, charming ways? All she ever did was make trouble for him. What had he been thinking?

The boy roughly shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to ignore the obvious answer that kept popping into his mind, refusing to admit just how badly he had wanted to see her again. He paused though, as his fingers brushed up against something. Tom came to an immediate stop as he dug around in his pocket, his fingers tightening around what felt like some sort of ticket or something before pulling out a small slip of paper. Tom stared at it stunned for a moment, knowing instantly who it was from. There was only one person who could have slipped this into his pocket without him knowing, presumably when he was unconscious. Finally, after a few more seconds, he slowly unfolded the note, confusion pinching his eyebrows as he read the soft, delicate handwriting, his heart thumping once against his will. Can't wait for our next date. See you in Venice, Pinkie. -Love, the Scarlet Thief

For a few moments, all Tom could do was read and re-read the note over and over again, his cheeks pooling with more and more blood every time his eyes crossed the words 'Pinkie' or 'Love'. Finally, after several minutes of contemplation, Tom silently folded the note back up, slipping it back into his pocket.

He just stood there for another moment, letting the words sink in, his gaze slowly turning to the rising sun over on the horizon, its bright colors seeming to be a perfect representation of his heart right now. Glowing.

And then Tom did something he almost never did, he let all his barriers drop, allowing himself a long, warm smile. But this was not just any smile, this was the widest, goofiest, most lovestruck smile that had ever crossed his features, one only those who were hopelessly and passionately in love could conceive. And despite how annoying and obnoxious and difficult Janna Ordonia the Scarlet Thief could be... Tom would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to know he would be seeing her again very soon.

Hope you enjoyed! Jantom is impossible for me to resist and I had to put in my daily dose of Starco or it just wouldn't feel right to me. So I might continue this someday in the future but for now I'm keeping it as a one-shot. I just don't have enough time at the moment to make more (plus I don't really have any more ideas for heists or whatever) but if you want you are welcome to send me ideas for it in case I ever do continue. Like I said no promises.

Anyways that'll do it for me, hope you have a great week and stay safe and healthy! Stay awesome, Stardom! Especially all you Jantom shippers out there ;)

#Star vs #Star vs AU #My Writing #Where in the World is Janna Ordonia #Carmen Sandiego AU #Master Thief Jan AU #Janna Ordonia #Jantom #Starco

[justkending]

Knock, Knock. Epilogue.

Series Summary: You are a really good friend of the Padalecki family. Your apartment gets infested with all kinds of problems, so you have to move in with your friends for a couples of days. Little did you know who you would run into while staying there.

Pairing: (single) Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 3600+

A/N: And just like that, the series is over. Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. It was one of my most liked ones, and I feel the same towards it. I hope I did the end justice, and I hope you all enjoy. Much love to you all:)

Series Masterlist

Epilogue

A little over 8 months had passed. Which means that is was Jensen’s and yours 1 year anniversary. And oh what the year had been filled with. 

For one, Jared and Gen ended up having their little bundle of joy just about 2 weeks ago. When she had told you she was pregnant she was already pushing past 1 month. And just like Gen hoped, it was a baby girl. They named her Odette, and she had all the fire and spark as Gen did even at a young age. Tom, Shep, and Jared were and are all wrapped around her finger, and give her the world. 

Jensen was now back for a month or so while they take a hiatus for the mid series in Supernatural. You’re relationship has bloomed even more bringing you closer to each other, and it was as if you two were still in the honeymoon stage of it still. 

You had been to a few conventions now with him, and WOWZA was that an experience you wouldn’t mind having just as much as him. 

The fans seem to really like you, and a lot were asking for pictures with you as well as Jensen. Much to your surprise, they liked you so much that they even made you fan art and wrote letters to you. They were apart of the sweetest fandom that you had ever met. 

Today was the last day of the Dallas Comic Con, and since it was summer break, you were able to join Jensen for all of it this time. And thanks to his help, you surprised your sister and dad to come to the convention with all kinds of VIP tickets so they could meet whoever they wanted. Every once in awhile, they would hang out with you and some of the cast of Supernatural, but they also branched out and went on their own tours. Jensen was kind enough to get your mom, Charlie, and Sadie plane tickets to come as well, but they were sightseeing Dallas instead of staying at the convention. You were just glad that they were all having fun, and experiencing a little of what you get to.

“Hey sweetheart?” Jensen asked from the bathroom of your shared hotel suite. “Have you seen my hat?”

“Which one?” you asked putting on the last bit of your mascara.

“The ball cap I got from Aspen Hatter’s?” he shouted. 

“Is that the all black one?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s was on the chair in here last I saw. I may be under some of your clothes.” you said pulling back and giving yourself a once over. 

You were wearing high waisted jeans with a simple off the shoulder black long sleeve shirt tucked in. Your now much longer hair, was straight and parted down the middle.

“Where-?” Jensen said coming out of the bathroom and stopping just as he saw you. He let out a low whistle, and you turned seeing him eye you up and down. 

“Oh stop.” you laughed waving him off. 

“How can I? I’m dating that.” he pointed at you before coming up and giving you a quick kiss and going to the chair. “You know, you’re going to steal all the attention from my fans if you keep looking like that.” he joked as he moved clothes off the chair to find his hat. “Got it!”

“I doubt they’re looking at me when-” you moved over grabbing the cap he put on and twisting it to where it was backwards. “You look like this. Very Dean Winchester today with the flannel, hmm?” you hummed.

“Yeah, cause I know you like it.” he said in a more sultry voice. 

“You’re not wrong.” you said leaning up to give him a kiss, but just before you you made contact you pulled a way and gave him a teasing look. “And I know how much you love me teasing you.”

“Not true.” he growled his eye blowing up in lust. 

“Well, sad day for you cause we are late, and don’t have time to mess around.” you said pulling back while his hold your waist lingered as you got closer to the door. 

Just as you were about to open it, his hand grabbed your wrist, and spun you around.

“That was mean.” he whispered inches from your face. 

“What are you going to do about it?” you whispered back with a smirk written across your face showing mischief.

“Well…” he started leaning in, and grabbed your waist pulling your flush to his. His hand snaked behind your neck pulling your face closer to his, and a certain heat grew in you. Just mere centimeters from your lips he stopped, and looked back up in your eyes. “You’ll have to see later. I’m late.” he winked before letting go and opening the door behind you and walking out. 

“You little!” you shouted towards him in the hall, and he turned shooting you finger guns, and another wink as he walked proudly to the elevator. “I’m so gonna-” you took a deep breath laughing at him, and ran back to grab your purse before running to catch up with him. 

“It’s not fun being teased is it?” he said in a sing song voice once it was just you two in the elevator. 

“I’d watch yourself Ackles. You may have just declared war.” you said slyly crossing your arms, and leaning in the opposite corner of the small room. 

“Well I think I have a fighting chance. You can’t hold yourself back for too long.” he said watching the numbers get smaller, and with a wide smile on his face.

“We’ll see about that.” you said turning and sending him your best game face.

Something about it made him shiver a little. You looked determined, and now he was kinda scared that you were really going to give him hell. His smile fell, and he was about to ask if you were serious when the doors opened showing Jared and Clint on the other side.

“Y/N, you don’t mean-” he started.

“Clint, Jared!” you said shifting to a whole other personality. “You guys ready?”

“Yes ma’am!” Clint smiled motioning for you to take the lead.

“Thank you sir.” you smiled placing a soft touch on his shoulder and marching ahead of them knowing exactly where to go by now. There was a sway in your hip and you knew Jensen was watching every swift motion you gave them. 

“Something seems off.” Jared said as they both started following after you.

“She teased me so I teased her back.” he let out a long sigh as he ran a hand down his face. “I think I started a war.”

“Ooo man. Bad move. The women always win that one.” Jared chuckled slapping his friends back. 

“Yeah I know. I haven’t won this game ever.”

___

“My question is for Jensen!” a young girl in the crowd asked.

You were off to the side of the stage watching the panel with Gen who had baby Odette cradled in a carrier on her chest. She had decided to come to this one since it was semi-close to home. The boys were at their grandma’s house, and just baby O was there since she was so young. 

You were watching Jared and Jensen being the dorks they were. They were about 10 questions in so far. A lot of them about the show, and certain episodes, and a couple of Jared and the new baby.

“Sure thing sweetheart. Lay it on me.” Jensen smiled, turning to the teenager asking the question.

“We heard Y/N is here, in your hometown, and that you guys are celebrating your 1 year anniversary. Do you guys have anything special planned?” she smiled brightly.

You both knew it was your anniversary, but you planned on celebrating it tomorrow since you were headed home then. With the convention, it was too much of a hassle to plan around it.

“Uh, actually, I have something planned, but she doesn’t know that I do.” he answered.

You turned your head at that, and looked over at Gen who was bouncing up and down with O, and she just sent you a shrug.

“Well, now she does cause she’s right over there and just heard me say it.” he laughed pointing over to you.

Instantly, everyone who hadn’t seen you before, which was a good chunk of the room, started going ballistic. You waved at them and smiled.

“There she is folks by my lovely wife!” Jared shouted, and Gen waved beside you. 

“They hate when we do that don’t they?” Jensen asked turning to Jared. 

“Eh, I think Gen likes the spotlight.” Jared joked getting a glare from Gen. “See? Look at that beautiful scowl. Aweeeee.” he said getting the crowd to join in with him. “Ok, ok. Jensen I interrupted your question.” he said patting his back.

“Yeah dude. Come on!” Jay exaggerated. “Was that all you got for me sweetheart?” 

“Well, is there any hints you can give us or her about what you plan on doing?” she continued to ask.

You were curious yourself so when you made eye contact with him you quirked a brow and tilted your head as you crossed your arms. 

“Oh no. Look what you did. I’m getting a scowl as well.” he said shaking his head. “I hope that’s a loving scowl Y/N/N.” you didn’t move. “I honestly have no idea if I’m safe after this panel.” he said getting a laugh from the crowd. “No, but uh-” he went back to the question. “I can give you the hint that it’s romantic, but I can’t say much more. The crowded let out a said awe, and Jensen laughed. “Sorry folks, but it’s a surprise.”

A surprise indeed. Later that night, he had Gen come and help you pick out an outfit for the night out on the town before you left tomorrow. You weren’t sure exactly what his plan was, but Gen told you a simple dress would do the trick. 

You picked a simple black dress with gold stars all over it. You grabbed some hoop earrings, and a pair of comfortable heels, and swung your purse over your shoulder.

“And you’re sure this isn’t too much for tonight?” you asked smoothing out the dress.

“Promise. You look great.” she said swaying Odette in her arms. “I wish I could have a night out soon, but we may be waiting a few weeks before that happens.” she laughed looking down at her daughter.

“Oh let me see her.” you gushed moving toward her. 

“She just ate. I don’t want her to spit up on you.” Gen said easing her into your arms as you started swaying her in your spot.

“Nonsense. Give me the burp rag, and I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, whatever you say.”

You looked down at the little girl in your arms, and couldn’t believe how much like her mom and brothers she was starting looking like. You were lost in the baby thoughts until your friend snapped you out of it. 

“Can you see yourself here in a couple of years?” she said grinning at you.

“I’m not sure when, but I for sure want it.” you said never breaking your stare from Odette. 

“Awe, you and Jensen making little Ackles. How sweet!” She jumped in her seat. “I’m waiting for it.”

“Calm your tits. We need to get married first.” you laughed making Odette giggle. “Wait a minute. Did she just-”

“Laugh?” Gen said jumping up and running to look down at her. “She did! That was her first laugh!”

“Is me getting married funny to you?” you said peppering kissing on Odette's face only making her laugh more. “You little turd!”

“And what’s going on in here?” you heard Jensen coming in with Jared close behind.

“Jar! Y/N just made Odette laugh for the first time!” Gen shouted pointing down at the baby in your arms. 

“What? Do it again!” he shouted coming to your other side as you all looked down at her. 

“I don’t know how. I was just talking.” you laughed. 

“Well talk!” Jared smiled.

“Hey O, what did you think was so funny?” you smiled at her. Only getting a grin. “I think I know what got her.” you said leaning down and kissing her all over again. Sure enough the giggling started and she made a loud laugh.

“Awe, O! Look at you go!” Jared said taking her and swaying with her himself. 

“You’re something else with kids aren’t you?” Jensen said behind you making you turn to see him in a nice button up, and a pair of his nicer jeans.

“What can I say? It’s a gift.” you shrugged. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, but uh do you want to bring the throw up rag with you?” he said pointing to your shoulder.

“Right. Probably not the most romantic accessory.” you winked taking it off and putting it by Gen who was gushing over her kid with her husband. “Hey, we’ll see you guys later ok?”

“Hmm mmm. See you in a bit.” they said never looking up at you.

“They really are in trouble, aren't they?” Jensen said wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“That’s putting it lightly.” you laughed. “Ok,-” you turned to him. “Show the way Ackles.”

“After you Y/L/N.” he motioned for the door.

You went to the lobby and into the car that Clint let you and Jensen drive for the evening. 

“So where are we going?” you asked propping your arm on the console, and resting your chin on your hand as you looked at him. 

“Can’t tell you. That’s the point of a surprise.” he said side eyeing you and laughing.

“Not even a hint?”

“I gave you a hint. Romantic remember?”

“You’re awful.” you huffed upset you couldn’t get him to spill. 

“You love it.”

“Not right now.” you said sagging in your seat.

“Hey,-” he said grabbing your hand. “You look really beautiful tonight.” he said turning for a second to give you sweet eyes before turning back to the road. 

“Nice save.” you said squeezing his hand. 

He ended up taking you to an old restaurant that he claimed he went to all the time as a teenager, and then ice cream after. The last stop was the stop that mattered the most. He said this was where he went when he came home from work, or LA and would stay to clear his head. Not many people knew about it other than his parents and siblings. 

About a 10 minutes drive later, you showed up to a nice little park. It was vacant for the most part, and looked over a pond with ducks and geese.

Jensen came around to your side of the car, and opened the door ever the gentleman.

“Thank you kind sir.” you said playfully taking his hand he extended to you.

“Anything for a princess.” he winked interlacing your hands and shutting the door behind you. 

You turned to the view and saw that the sun was setting just behind the pond. It was stunning, and the perfect time to be there.

“Wow. Look at that view.” you let out in a breath captivated by the beauty.

“I know. It’s something isn’t it?” he said softly.

You turned seeing that he wasn’t watching the sun, but was studying you instead.

“I was talking about the sunset.” you giggled with a laugh.

“And I was talking about you.” he winked pulling you closer as he started walking along the hike path. “Sunset’s not bad either.” he shrugged.

“You’re a dork.” you laughed on his shoulder. 

“And I take pride in it.” he nodded. 

You both walked for about a block in comfortable silence taking in your surroundings. There were beautiful trees, and flowers sprouted along the path, and you weren’t surprised that this is where he would come to clear his mind. It was calming, stunning, and very humbling.

“So in about 25 yards is where I would come to sit and think. It’s kinda hidden, and you really have to be looking for it to find it.” Jensen said pointing to a little opening in the woods.

“Should I be worried that you brought me out here to kill me?”

“No!” he laughed making his body vibrate.

“I don’t know…” you dragged out. “You could have just fed me my last meal, and now you’re dragging me out into the woods. Sounds sketchy to me.” you said nudging his hip.

“Ok, no more horror movies for you… or supernatural.” he said nudging you back and going to grab your hand again. “Come on it’s right here.”

He moved a few branches, and dangling vines out of the way, and you started to see a subtle warm light from behind them.

“Jay what’s-” you stopped mid sentence seeing a swarm of Edison light bulbs strung all around you in this little meadow nook. It was as if the trees had created a dome, and the only light besides the Edison bulbs was the last bits of the pink and red colors of the sunset leaking through. “Oh my…” you said taking it in and walking in further as Jensen stayed behind watching you look at his hiding spot. “Jensen this is stunning.” you breathed out slowly turning in your spot. 

Just as you came back to face Jensen, you saw he was no longer standing, but was instead on one knee only a few feet away from you.

Your hands came up involuntarily, and covered your mouth. This wasn’t happening was it? You wanted to say something, but nothing came out. You were in shock.

Jensen was grinning up at you, and that’s when you saw the little velvet box in his hand. A single tear escaped your eye, and you let out a nervous chuckle.

“Jay-”

“Y/N. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were something else.” he said cutting you off. You sniffled and let out a laugh as you let him continue. “Even hungover, in clothes two times your size, you caught my eye in an instant.”

“I was a mess.” you laughed. 

“A mess that was still as gorgeous as a goddess.” he said smiling at you still. “Then when you said you needed a home, I didn’t think twice about bringing you into my life that way. It was rash and not thought through, but it was the best risk I ever took. Because of that one little risk… It led to so many others. Rooming with someone I knew I had feelings for, going to your family’s for Christmas, confessing those feelings in hope you reciprocated them, and tons more.”

You sniffled at his confessions, and wiped away your tears with one hand as he grabbed the other in his.

“And with each risk, I learned that I love taking them with you because you always go with them and don’t second guess them. Because of that.” he opened the box, and grabbed your hand again. “I want to take another. Will you marry me?”

You let out a laugh at how shocked you were. You definitely didn’t see your evening turning out like this. 

“YES! Absolutely YES!” you jumped as he stood up and placed the ring on your finger.

He laughed as you both went to kiss each other passionately. So much love was put behind the gesture. You would have had a full on make out session, but the cheer of other people pulled you away from each other. Still wrapped around his neck you turned your head to see Jensen’s family, Gen and Jared, your family, and most of the cast from supernatural coming out of the trees they were hiding in.

“Oh my God! What in the world?” you shouted, turning to them with Jensen still holding onto you.

“Congrats!” they all shouted. Gen and Sadie being the first to run to you and give you a giant hug. 

“How did you-”

“Jensen’s had this mapped out for months.” Gen explained. “We helped him set up while you guys were eating, and stayed in the background to watch it happen!” 

“You guys!” you smiled holding back more tears, and giving them more hugs. 

After about 15 minutes of thanking everyone for helping and coming, you came back to Jensen who was glowing just as much as you. 

“You did all this?”

“I’ve been kinda mapping it out since we started dating.” he shrugged, pulling your waist to his. 

“Seriously?”

“I knew you were the one pretty fast. Thought I might as well get a head start on it.” he shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Well, you did amazing.” you turned motioning to your mingling friends and family and your surroundings. “I couldn’t have asked for a better way for this to happen.”

“I’m glad. Now all that’s left is to plan the wedding.” he said kissing you.

“Yeah, but that’s just a small detail.” you joked kissing him back. 

You pulled back and rested your foreheads on each others. 

“I love you a lot.” you whispered. 

“I love you so much more.” he said. 

And like that… You were on your way to being Mrs. Ackles.

Masterlist for Series

My lovelies:

@shamelesslydean @sleepless-sin  @sandlee44 @gripmetight-raisemefromperdition @supersleepygoat @justanotherwaywardsister @spnwoman @ravengirl94 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ezilyamuzed @thosekidswhohuntmonsters @anise-d-castle6 @tailsoflightning @spookycowz @eve05glee @snffbeebee @angelessquirrel @deans-baby-momma @natura1phenomenon @tftumblin @gh0stgurl @screechingartisancashbailiff @herscrunchiehairtie @dreaminemz @staradorned @monkeymcpoopoo@a-girl-who-loves-disney @andthatsmyworld @greenarrowhead @savio-the-depressed-moose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @greyeyedsmile14 @adoptdontshop-blog @casper57 @traceyaudette @rainflowermoonlibrary @luciathewinchestergirl @almostelegantfire @thefaithfulwriter @the-is13 @kaz11283 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @squirrelgirl67 @jackles-15 @lauravic   @deansgirls-1968  @a–1–1–3

#supernatural series #SUPERNATURAL AU #Supernarural #supernatural #jensen ackles au #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #SPN AU #SPN series #spn reader insert #SPN #au series #justkending #knock knock

[bucciarati-pizza]

[ Fic ] - Jumpin’ Jack Flash: Chapter 1

SO IM FINALLY POSTING THIS AFTER DANCING AROUND IT FOR AGES ///

me and my jobro @justjuliainc have been developing this AU fic together. it is a slow burn bruabba where Abbacchio remains a cop, his partner lives, and Bruno is a fisherman along with various other character swaps. and well, without saying much more, I hope you all enjoy the start of this bizarre adventure ;))

A blaring police car spun around a corner then ground to a halt at its final destination. The rain made it hard to make anything out.

“I’m searching the north wing, you do south!,” an officer yelled over the sound of crashing thunder and lightning. Two sets of shoes splashed through the mud the police car was now in. “Got it!,” the other replied back, turning on a flashlight. “You think they’re armed?”

The first officer was already pulling the gun from his belt, answering his question.

Then came the screams. Muffled like someone had covered their mouth, but still clear as ever. They echoed throughout the entire building and out into that terrible rain.

A shudder ran down both their spines. Children’s screams. This shabby abandoned looking cement building on the outskirts of town happened to be an orphanage.

They frantically ran towards the double doors.

“No one, over my dead body is getting away with this shit. Not tonight. Not ever.”

The officer that spoke had a fierce glint of gold in his eyes, illuminated by his partner’s flashlight. He wore a shade of lipstick that nearly matched the stormy night sky.

“Abbacchio.” The man turned to the sound of his name. “I second that, with all my heart.” He kicked the door in with a determined grin, his hat tipping slightly to reveal short brown hair. “Let’s put an end to this!”

Abbacchio nodded, barely having the time to reply, “I’m counting on you too, Michele!” before blindly racing up the stairs.

The sound of screaming got louder the closer he got to the top. His heart raced. The police had been investigating a strange series of kidnappings for weeks now, with no trace of the culprit. A 911 call was made from the orphanage just a half hour before now. Yet no other information was disclosed, both Abbacchio and his partner knew deep down inside exactly who it was. The same one responsible for all the recent crimes. And this time, said suspect had gone too far.

The hall seemed to never end. Abbacchio never questioned why the door he needed to burst in as soon as possible was getting further rather than closer away. Maybe it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. He never questioned why the floor beneath his feet seemed to warp into otherworldly shapes when weight was applied. He didn’t look down.

It seemed like forever when he finally made it. Panting, he tried the door and it was unlocked. The crying ceased the instant he opened it. He had a sudden sinking feeling. “Where are they?” The sinking feeling got worse. “Where the hell are they?!” He pointed gun over flashlight across the small room and found nothing but empty beds.

Impossibile...

Not even a window was open. Just what was going on?

While searching under beds, Michele ran through the door. “I-I didn’t find a thing. I searched every room on the way here too,” he said wearily. “There’s not a single person in here.”

Abbacchio pulled himself out from the bed he was under. “I don’t understand,” he began, shaking slightly.

“Something bizarre is going on. This is the room most of the screaming came from. They were in here”

We’re too late.

His partner turned his head at another sound. It caused them both to shudder. More desperate screaming filled the dark halls of the orphanage.

They both shared a knowing glance and cautiously started for the source of the noise, covering each other’s backs. It was only two doors down. Once again, it seemed to be getting further. It took a few minutes to reach it. “What’s going on? Is this some kind of madhouse?,” Michele hissed, terrified and confused. He looked down at the floor and gasped.

“No clue, but I’m going in!,” Abbacchio replied as he charged through the door.

“Wait, Abbacchio!”

All he saw was a flash of light before the wind was knocked out of him and he fell to the hard wood floor. He lie there for a few seconds trying desperately to catch his breath, vision blurring. Two bodies tumbled over each other, in the corner of the room, one spitting out rows of curses.

“I’ll fucking kill you! Right here! Agk- I’ll...“

Abbacchio didn’t recognize that voice. Not good! He began to force himself to stand up. A gun went off.

Abbacchio’s heart skipped all it’s beats.

A gun went off and something clanked to the floor.

Abbacchio’s feet moved before his body.

“Michele! Michele!!!”

His partner was hunched over another man, unmoving. A pistol had been slid across the floor. There were bullet holes in the bookshelf in the other corner. Wait.. didn’t that mean..

Michele was only still because he was straining to hold the man’s writs down.

He missed!

“Abbacchio, I’m— sorry I had to push you out of the way so hard. I realized we were being stalked when there was a third shadow on the ground. Somehow, this bastard was behind us and was about to attack you.”

Abbacchio had no words. He panted speechless before them.

“Agh!,” his partner suddenly exclaimed.

“You thought you could catch me that easily?,” the pinned man seethed. He had taken the opportunity to spit in Michele’s eyes. “How do ya like that, eh?” He chuckled maniacally. He nearly got his hands free, when in one swift movement, Abbacchio took over, keeping him held down.

“Cazzo. Don’t dare underestimate us.”

Michele hummed in dissatisfaction once he wiped his eyes, brushing off his jacket. Abbacchio took a moment to look around the room with narrowed eyes.

The thug beneath him was scrawny, yet surprisingly strong, his blonde shoulder length hair tangled into disgusting mats. He looked to be about 30, but was probably a lot younger. He sounded hoarse when he spoke. He managed to kick Abbacchio’s leg hard, trying every mean possible to distract them and escape.

The silver haired cop had enough and roughly put both wrists into handcuffs.

“...Where are they?,” Michele wondered out loud, still looking around.

“Ow! Take it easy on me would ya?! And what the hell do you wanna know?”

Leone gritted his teeth, a growl rising in his throat.

“You know damn well! What happened to whoever was in this room? There.. there was screaming,” he said the last part half to himself.

The man remained silent, glaring between both of them for a second before bursting out laughing.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you! You think I’m the answer? You think you little heroes are doing society a favor by coming here?,” he shook his head, still chuckling while both officers looked on distraught.

“Well, you have no idea what you get yourself into,” he continued voice turning deep and gravely again, “When you stick your nose into places it

doesn’t belong.”

Something about the man’s words gave them both an uneasy feeling about the future. Yet, they couldn’t afford to let it bother them now. The man was eventually taken outside and shoved in the back of the police car. His gun was seized along with him and they would use that too in their upcoming investigation. They were going to get answers.

Neither Michele or Abbacchio really knew what happened that night or even how to explain it.

But a few things were hauntingly certain:

Hundreds of orphaned children had somehow vanished right under their noses.

There were no signs of the caretakers and whoever made the phone call either.

The man they captured wasn’t the ringleader in all of this. If he was, there would’ve been a much bigger show.

Abbacchio’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.

And he believed that there were strange forces about.

....

“Idioti!”

Both officers jumped slightly when the hand of their chief slammed down on his office desk.

“Pardon?,” Michele asked, taken aback. Abbacchio looked just as confused.

They had been called into Signor Polpo’s office early in the morning to “discuss last night’s endeavor.”

Polpo was a sight to behold. Morbidly obese, he had to have a special chair made just for him to sit in. He towered over practically everyone at nearly 7 feet tall. No one had ever seen him without a hat, even when on a break from duty. His eyes people say, became so void of a soul that the sclera began to turn completely black. No matter what the reason was behind it, this was somehow true. Bright green irises were surrounded by a beady black that made anyone who met his gaze shiver.

Signor Polpo was the kind of man that made Leone’s blood boil.

“Did you not understand what we reported to you?,” Abbacchio asked slowly, tone dark.

The obscenity hummed briefly, looking between the two like they were mere ants beneath him before replying.

“You both became some of the force’s brightest pupils in a very short amount of time. You flew through training as if it were nothing, and I knew right away I could depend on you to... protect the streets of Napoli.”

The chief’s voice boomed throughout the tiny room and he ended that last sentence with a chuckle.

Abbacchio and Michele didn’t like this one bit. What the hell was he getting at?

“Yet...”

Polpo’s brows were furrowed.

“You had to go on and pull a stunt like this?!”

Abbacchio’s quick temper was about to show. “Wh-“

“No backup. No means of communication. Going to a useless abandoned orphanage by yourselves only to catch a petty street thug. I simply thought I knew you better.”

What?

Michele got a terrible feeling. Abbacchio saw red.

“Abandoned?..”

Polpo didn’t skip a beat. “I think you two are forgetting who decides what you get to look into and when,” he continued pointing a finger right at Leone.

Abbacchio didn’t look up. His fist was clenched at the side of his chair and his jaw was tight.

His partner looked speechless for a few seconds before trying to ask again.

“Abandoned? It.. it was an obvious kidnapping!”

That among various other things.

Abbacchio knew it was no use to bombard the chief with questions when it was already apparent what was going on.

Polpo remained poker-faced.

“I didn’t order you to go there, did I?”

“No, Capo,” replied Michele, looking away.

Abbacchio remained silent, biting his lip to keep from exploding. “They paid him off. He accepted it. They paid him off. The fat fuck is actually in on this,” was all that raced through his head.

“Did. I?,” pressured Polpo, his chair creaking as he leaned closer to Abbacchio’s face. And now he couldn’t even argue.

The officer with short grey hair looked up, his eyes furious but tone neutral when he finally answered.

“...No, Capo.”

Polpo stared at him for a few additional seconds before adding, “Good. I’m glad we can all come to that understanding.”

Abbacchio’s brows twitched. He and Michele had risked their lives continuously for the people. Last night, one or both of them could have died. Came very close, in fact. All the victims of a crime that had yet to be investigated were probably never going to be seen again and any evidence of something gone wrong would be erased. Yet, the whole time, his own chief was in on it? He knew Polpo took bribes and negotiated with criminals. He hated him for that. But this? This was way too far.

The room was dangerously silent.

Polpo narrowed his eyes. “You must understand the certain contradictions that come with this job. It’s how this world works. I expect you to await my command before even putting on your uniforms in the future.” He leaned back in his chair, upturning his long nose. “I’m only looking out for your safety.”

Michele glanced over at Leone. Uh oh.

He knew that look. Wide, twitching eyes. Biting his lip and shaking. If they didn’t get out of Polpo’s office soon, something was going to happen that would end with him beating the shit out of someone. Michele had much to discuss with his partner that wouldn’t dare be brought up in this room.

“Oh and one more thing,” Polpo started with an eerie smile. “You’ll leave this little meeting with your mouths zipped shut. What we just discussed is a secret between you and me. I can trust you... right boys?”

Silent nods.

“Excellent. You’re dismissed.”

Michele bowed customarily. Abbacchio just glared at him, such passion in his ombré eyes that Polpo read it as a warning.

Once the door was shut and their footsteps got further away, Signor Polpo picked up the phone on his desk and dialed a number.

“Send me backup. They’re getting too smart for their own good.”

.............

“FUCK!,” Abbacchio yelled throwing his hat off once he and his partner got onto the street and turned the corner into an alley. “FUCK. FUCK..” He kicked it in frustration, in complete rage by now.

“I’M TIRED OF THIS,” he kicked again, “STUPID... SHIT FOR BRAINS,” more kicks, “FUCKING POOR EXCUSE OF THE POLIZIA.”

Michele stood there with a hand on his shoulder, not quite sure how he should try to begin to calm him.

“I’M TIRED OF IT. I’M,” his movements slowed and he threw himself against a wall, defeated. “..tired of it.”

He slid down against it, pulling his knees to his chest. Lost and vulnerable.

“Leone..”

His partner sighed and bent over to pick up the hat and brush it off before joining Abbacchio against the wall.

“Leo.. it’ll be okay..”

Abbacchio’s gaze remained downwards, staring blankly at the ground between his legs. He hadn’t even registered there was a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You know what? You know what this feels like, Michele?”

The other officer remained silent for a moment before asking, “What?”

“It feels like we’re in the goddamn mafia.”

Abbacchio looked up.

“I didn’t want to say it. I wanted to push it to the back of my mind. But I can’t... because it’s true.”

Michele took his hat off.

“The way things are going, I have to agree with you... but..”

Abbacchio looked at him hopelessly.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t do something about it, right?”

“I don’t.. know what to do. No one is going to believe us over that pig Polpo. But I can’t let the victims die. I can’t... let these crimes continue to happen while the rest of the force sleeps on it.”

Michele nodded.

“It will be stopped. Don’t ask how, but I know.”

No words were spoken for at least a few minutes.

“Coffee?”

“Fuck, do I ever need coffee.”

“I doubt anyone will care if we stop at Libeccio before we get grounded.”

Michele smiled, helping his partner up. Abbacchio’s expression lit up. It was the name of his favorite little restaurant and it had been ages since he even stepped foot in it. He brushed himself off and put his hat back on.

“Let’s go.”

Michele did the same.

“That’s the spirit.”

....

#first fic first fic!!! #leone abbacchio #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo kimyou na bouken #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jojo AU #vento aureo #jojo part 5 #golden wind #fanfic #jojo fanfic #jojo fic #giorno giovanna #pannacotta fugo #guido mista #narancia ghirga #polpo #hirohiko araki #bruno x abbacchio #giogio #phantom blood #battle tendency #stardust crusaders #diamond is unbreakable #stone ocean #anime #manga #writing

[kierongillen]

Writer Notes: The Wicked + the Divine 43

Spoilers, obv.

Issue 44 comes out tomorrow at the time of writing. As I’m on the west coast of the USA, it will be just after midnight GMT by the time they’re online. So abstractly, this is the first time ever which we come out when the next issue is out. Abstractly. I’d say the day counts as where I am, and doesn’t Comixology come out a little later? We’ll see.

It’s also been so long that I almost wrote notes for issue 44. This is a weird goodbye, this period.

Anyway – Issue 43, wherein we finish explaining all the big stuff we’re going to explain.

I mean, there’s more in issue 44 and 45, but it’s all details, with the denouncement really being based around the characters’ response to this issue. They know the truth. Now what are they going to do about it?

That was the main note I gave in the script to the team – if there’s any really big questions you are confused about, now is the time to say, as this is the best clarification it’ll get. As such, we worked on it a lot to nail what we wanted to say – and what we didn’t. Sometimes this meant actually simplifying a little to avoid repeating huge amounts of stuff and leaving people even more confused. More often it involves sliding in a little nod to something someone would be thinking about.

It’s an interesting issue, I think. It’s where we show a lot of our hand.

It also involved a lot of crunching.

Jamie/Matt Cover

Cassandra finally gets her head cover. Normally a cover relates to a key beat, which isn’t true here – except in the widest possible sense that it’s where Cassandra gets to say I Told You So to everyone, including herself.

Jason Latour Cover One of the fun things about commissioning these covers is getting to see a creator’s process close up. Jason’s process on this was amazingly never-ending – he was always tweaking, and trying things and moving in a different direction. Where he ended was stunning – very him, and very WicDiv too. I remember us and the Jasons semi-jokingly about swapping books for an issue – they do WicDiv for an issue and we do Southern Bastards. This cover absolutely makes me wonder how amazing that hypothetical issue would have looked.

(Our story would have been about a Taylor-Swift-esque-singer/songwriter-before-she-got-big in the town. And probably murder, as it’s Southern Bastards, right?)

IFC

That “Life goes on” still creeps me out.

1-2

Opening vignette that lets us establish what Minerva’s plan is now, as well as re-establish Beth and her crew, and actually let us define their current position, and even give their codenames, which have existed in the Bible document since issue 1, I believe.

(Oddly, calling people “Boss” is one of my verbal ticks. It seemed fun to give it to Beth here.)

As such, Minerva immediately HiveMinding them when they’ve just stated their agency is plain harsh. Jamie’s large panel on page 2 sells it incredibly well – the statues, Minerva walking away from us – it’s all so casual.

It’s also the running theme of the issue – what Mini has been doing all these years. This is just a particularly direct example of it.

Three panels on second page to try and stress the seriousness of what this is (Space = Meaning, remember). Of course, as the issue shows, this isn’t the real part of the issue – but you have to at least believe this is a real gambit. And it is – I mean, it’d be awful if Mini pulled it off. But in people’s guts they’d realise this isn’t how WicDiv goes, right?

Minor glorious Matt Wilson note – the crackle of green in panel 3 is wonderful. Give that guy another Eisner. He deserves a hat trick.

3

Show time in the showbiz and the “time to show you everything” sense.

4

Establishing the stakes and situation for the heroes. There’s a draft of the issue I wrote which is a couple more pages long, which would have pulled this out a little more. In the end, we decided it worked better shorter – I’ll tell you why when I get there, and we could use the space elsewhere.

Key thing is showing some response to Cam’s actions at the end of last issue – it’s important to know that they haven’t just walked away, right?

In the first panel, the “identify who is speaking” is a tricky one. The “say the character’s name” is a little brutal move, and I avoid it. We’re not that book. Dio is easy – and Lucifer, bless her, is immediately identifiable by her idiom. Her line also reminds people of what she’s like, which sets up the last page.

Laura’s captions here again, doing a lot of the heavy lifting.

It says so much about this issue that the last two panels are only a half page total. These are big rock and roll images, presented in a tiny space. Jamie’s composition makes it land really well, selling the drama.

Page 5

It says even more that we did all this in a page.

Tara’s move in the original version was basically a page, but looking at it structurally it actually left it even more underwhelmed – a fight kicked off, and then heroes were losing, and then Tara does this cool thing, and they’re winning, before immediately the hive mind kicks in and they’re losing again. This does not sell the joy of Giant Woman.

This works better, not least for sheer audaciousness. I used to have a thing about tableau based storytelling – the idea that you can create a large image which people can explore and juxtapose it with a few captions to create a larger conceptual space. This is very much that.

“People treating people like meat” reminds me for the second time when re-reading this issue of the line from Pratchett: “Sin is treating people like things.” The first time was the puppets bit. I’d agree with Pratchett, clearly.

In the original draft of the script I had a line “You want more? Go re-read Rising Action” which is a bit too cute, so I lost it. It’s not really the sort of thing WicDiv does, anyway.

Yes, Giant Woman is a Steven Universe nod. Putting aside that image of Giant Tara kicking ass which has been in my head forever, there’s so much to love in the image – to pick a small part, how about the Norns blasting in triplicate? We rarely see them act like this.

You can also trace via the colouring which of Beth’s crew have duplicated which God’s powers.

Page 6

There’s been a lot about people copying people’s powers in WicDiv, and trying to find out what someone can and can’t do, and then using it against them. This switches it up. The thing about being creative instead of a straight plagiarist that creative people make up new shit. That’s kind of the point of them.

Once more, Matt showing the dance of the colouring between the Woden green (haunting the series like a ghost now) and the joy of Dio is (er) a joy.

Page 7

Another Matt moment – we step out of the club, and we drop to greys, before building the energy up.

I’m not quite sure how long Robin has wanted to punch Beth for. Or how long I planned to do it, even. I can imagine Robin thinking of this a lot though – she’s the one who takes a long time to snap.

There’s a dual structure here too – there’s two main compare-and-contrast bands in WicDiv. Beth’s and Cass’…

Page 8

And this is a very different kind of band break up.

The problem here is different – I want to give much more space. First draft it seemed that they got talked into it really easily. But it’s all the space we had so what to do? Once more, captions. Silent panel with captions can be timeless, and gives room for our minds to populate it. It’s been so long I can no longer remember if the fact the two almost-silent characters are shouting, but we’re not allowed to hear, because it’s private seems relevant.

Page 9-10

Hard cut made easier with the caption. Captions are great. Trust captions.

The shot of Mini at the edge, just looking back with space either side is great. Just the isolation of it.

The “try to sing” on the page turn seems a meaningful reveal. Can she?

No she can’t. This is another very old beat in the founding documents – it’s hinted at on page 9. Mini says that she gave it up – and she said the same in issue 9. I’m not sure I believe her. When planning it I realised that some people would take it as a comment on Work for hire – don’t get stuck keeping a story alive forever, as it will eventually atrophy your talent. It wasn’t planned, but I’d be fine with it as a reading. When Chrissy read it, she took it as “Don’t get stuck in art management.” which works too. Readings are fun.

Anyway – a performance. That the big thing in the issue is a performance rather than a fight is very much WicDiv turning towards its core concept as we head towards the final straight. Of course we’d do this.

Yeah, Matt and Jamie, killing it on the final panel of the second page – the Persephone-esque tentacles made something else, because she is something else now. The numinous expression of Minerva. Amazing.

Page 11

The borders in this sequence harking back to the Persephone performance in issue 18.

I may actually try to tweak this sequence in the trade and have a different execution of “When I was 14” and all the rest, to work a little more like a LOC CAP rather than a speech. We couldn’t make it work given the time before deadline. That’s the odd thing about our extended issues – just because it’s taking longer doesn’t mean we have more time to do tasks, right? Some things are only possible when the whole thing is together. It works, I think, but part of me wants to push it harder.

Anyway – these two. I loved writing them though. I said it back in the other flashbacks, but how the two of them dance is a delight. Hell, doing them across a lifetime is a delight.

Okay – I’m going to give you a name for Ananke’s sister. It’s the one I used in my notes. It’s no more her name than “Ananke” is really Ananke’s.

It’s Demeter. Ask me about it another time.

Page 12

The “god” in panel 2 is a Proto Norn.

This primal gathering brings to mind issue 9 as well.

Demeter’s expression in the penultimate panel? Love it.

Page 13

The captions are Laura’s style, but changed colouring. That Laura is helping Minerva performs means it comes across in her voice, was our thinking.

Captions are once more useful though – trying to get something that is evocative, but also clear was the battle.

(The Colours here!)

She-in-Thirds is a name-behind-the-name. The Maiden/Mother/Child archetype – the one which Ananke subverted in a few pages time.

Page 14

I find myself thinking whether the return to a close-to-eight panel for much of this is meaningful. This is kind of Bronze Age Phonogram.

Reading this I wish I had capitalised The Rebel – it’s another archetype. Proto-Lucifer. I’ll tweak for the trade.

I forget when the metaphor for a song for the “godhood” in WicDiv came to me, but it feels like the right one. It’s how songs often feel to me.

Page 15

If you go back to issue 34, you’ll see some of the details of this plan are different to the plan that Ananke has put into play there. In fact, the deal that she strikes in issue 34 is akin to what she wants here. It’s mainly for clarity – the reader needs to be reminded of what’s actually going on, as they won’t necessarily remember the details from way back then. I figure this is the plan she wanted to do, then found something else when Demeter wasn’t into it, before swooping around to something closer.

Page 16

“After all my friends were dead” gives a little flex in the timeline.

I do like Ananke’s hat.

“The Great River” being the Nile, and the pantheon we saw back in issue 36.

In terms of lists of things in this issue I was looking forward to write, the first meeting between Ananke and Minerva was certainly one of them. I tried to get something of the oddness here. Jamie and Matt manage to get the mood of issue 34 again too – I really do like this bronze-age western vibe. There’s a project I keep on thinking about doing, and it has some of that too it. Hmm.

Yes, page width panel of character delivering a line remains a key WicDiv tool. There’s so much I love here – the touch from Ananke, whose PoV we’re in. Minerva speaking to herself, speaking to us, etc.

That the knife is just sentimental is a minor beat I’m very fond of.

Page 17

Once more, Captions, as Laura makes sure we all Get It.

One of the debates in WicDiv fandom has always been whether the gods are picked by Ananke (i.e. Anyone could be a god) or whether they’re actually people with a gifts. Of course, the answer is that it’s both.

The thing I least like about WicDiv’s mythology is that the 12 people are people with this gift, for obvious “Ugh Chosen Ones” reasons. There’s some things that mitigate that a little, I hope, and not least that it’s clearly transferable to wherever you are in life. The core of it is “if you find yourself with a gift, be careful with it and use it responsibly.” It’s a book about the power, privilege, dangers and seductions of being an artist and all that. It’s only when writing that sentence do I realise how tired I am. This has been a busy week. Excuse me if the writing is looser than usual.

Anyway, I’m probably over-worrying. If X-men is fine, we probably are too.

So – end of the page is a download of some of the explanations of stuff folk will inevitably be going “Wait – what?”

And then Tara steps up.

When you’re writing a large group scene, with limited space, there’s choices you make of who speaks and who doesn’t. Who’s going to have the strongest counter-argument to something? Who’s going to have the biggest reaction? Them. They’re the one who carries the scene.

Which is Tara. Perhaps you could make an argument for Baal, but Baal is reeling through all these issues – plus if you choose one or the other, you tie-breaker would be who hasn’t had spotlight.

Page 18-21

And the counter is equally inevitably Cassandra (who is also in the process of beating herself up). Being Cass, she puts it harshly. Clearly, this is going to get a response from Tara.. and Cass opens up herself and makes herself vulnerable. Which is a hell of a thing for her, right?

I’ll stop this – I’m just walking through the emotional flow, but I love these two women here.

Which segues into the last formalist style thing of the issue. Once again, we have a space = meaning problem. This is clearly the most important sequence of the issue, but we have so few pages. We turn to one of the core WicDiv moves of black panels in a six panel grid, and loading them up with text. Suddenly we have a sense of ritual, a lot of dialogue produced in a stylistic way and most of all a whole extra page (hence an extra page of weight).

It’s also a complete showcase for Matt. The last godly panel of them is them at their most Godly, this final little iconic burst. A confession, and it’s gone.

I cried when I got the colours for this. I forget which one it was – there’s just some wonderful Jamie expressions in there as well.

Choosing the confessions was definitely tricky. We have space, but too much is too much. Some of them I kept simple, and others needed a little space to explain. The ordering was also one of those processes where you feel out the character, and think how they’d speak. Dio would clearly jump in, then Inanna, then Mimir trying to just piece it together, and all leading to Baal.

I did try and write a Baal caption, but any words were just too small.

And then, of course…

Page 22

You’ve probably seen me talking about year 4 as Solving The Equation. Yes, we knew lots of the key things, but there’s lots of elements of the execution were worked, and rethought and discovered. I may be able to talk a little more about this in the last issue’s notes.

This was a big one. I was chewing over the synopsis and thinking… a battle against Ananke/Minerva is a little underwhelming after everything, right? At this point in the story, Minerva is a busted flush. In reality, Laura (and Demeter) won the intellectual battle against Minerva in Mothering Invention. She’s already beat her. It nagged at me. There was something else.

Then there was the other thing – I knew that Lucifer was going to get her body back, but I wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do when she had it.

The two came together: of course, the final confrontation isn’t between Laura and Minerva. It’s with Lucifer, the person who brought Laura into the world, the person who brought us all into the world. The girl who wanted to be on stage, no matter the cost. That’s the final battle.

And best of all, I had no idea what would happen.

Well – not quite, but suddenly a whole lot of things was up in the air.

Page 23

Song reference, obv. Always connected to something in my head in my early career. If I do writer notes for the playlist, I may actually tell you.

Oh – some people wondered whether all the skulls meant everyone was dead. No – it’s just there’s no god in the slot. I’m not that kind of shithead.

Anyway – issue is out tomorrow. Or maybe today, depending on where you are. It ends the story, with 45 being an epilogue with a somewhat different tone. Clearly, it’s a huge issue, so be a little careful with your tweeting. The last cover is especially a big spoiler.

<!-- @page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } -->

Thanks for your patience and thanks for reading.

#WicDiv #the wicked and the divine #jason latour #writer notes

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy: Pt. 2

We have a title.

A/N: No full-on fucking, but plenty of smut. Honestly, I would NOT show this to my mother. Half the length of the last one, so I’m getting *slightly* better at being concise. Does contain promiscuity, self-loathing and self-esteem issues. Picks up exactly where Pt.1  left off.

Why were you so bothered by him? You’d done plenty of fucking and sucking during the post-snap years, taking what you wanted and giving nothing of yourself in return. Running away to the next town, the next shitty job when anybody got too close for comfort. You’d loved and you’d lost and you didn’t want to go through that again, ever.

But that feeling in your stomach wasn’t yesterday’s beer.

It was something worse.

It was actual feelings, emotions.

You liked him. Not in a purely platonic way, and not in a purely lustful way. You weren’t sure you had the strength for this but you had to address it, whatever this was, or your employment situation would rapidly become untenable. Just as a wound will fester if it’s left, skirted flirtations and unsaid feelings tend to poison a relationship. Especially when the feelings are one-sided. Time to be brave, be bold. Rip the plaster off quickly before the pain can set in.

You finished lolling on the bed, flinging yesterday’s clothes back on. You’d worry about a change of underwear later. Thor was already in position, fixated by his game, so you moved past him and headed straight to the kitchen. You ripped open the box of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts, shoving them in the toaster. If Thor was paying any attention to you, he’d probably wonder what you were angry about. You weren’t angry, or at least only angry at your own heart for being a little traitor. You were a tightly wound coil of nervous energy. The toaster couldn’t pop up quick enough. When it finally did, you startled a little. Oh, for fuck’s sake, you thought to yourself. Get a grip, you’re not 12. You threw the sugary snacks onto a plate and began your advance.

Thor finally noticed you when you were around a foot away.

“Good morning, y/n,” he said, removing a hand from the controller to take the plate from you.

The movement of his arm was enough to give you an opening. You slid past his outstretched hand and onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, as you placed the Pop-Tarts on the arm of the settee.

Good question, you thought. If you go for a hat-trick of startling Thor into swift escapes, you’re going to go flying. It was an odd dichotomy thinking about how this gentle giant, who only displayed kindness and shyness to you, could if he wanted, send you hurtling into the next room without breaking a sweat.

“We need to talk,” you said, holding onto the back of the settee, one hand either side of Thor’s head.

“About what?”

“I know you caused that storm on purpose to keep me here last night.”

You tried to meet his gaze but he couldn’t look at you. He was ashamed that you’d caught him so easily.

“I’m not angry, if you want me to stay, you can just ask. What I want to know is this: what is going on? Because it looks like you want to be more than just my friend but then you run away whenever I initiate contact.”

“I…” Thor can’t find any words to say. His cheeks feel hot, they must be the same shade as his cape. He could get out of this situation if he wanted to but apparently, his body doesn’t want him to, so it just stays there, rooted to the cushions he wishes would swallow him whole. Over a thousand years old and he’s completely flummoxed by a Midgardian woman sitting on his lap.

“I don’t think you’d want me,” he eventually forces out.

“What makes you say that?”

His only response is a vague gesture, controller still in hand, to his stomach.

“I’m not going to beat about the bush unless that’s what you’re into,” you say with a smirk. “You’re hot and I want to make out with you. But if that’s not what you want, that’s fine.”

Thor finally looks up at you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look so confused. It’s like your words have short-circuited his brain. He’s just frozen, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

This was not the reaction you’d hoped for. It’s neither a yes nor a no. You decide to try a different approach.

Your hands move down to the hem of your top, pulling it up and over your head before you discard it on the rug at Thor’s feet.

“You don’t have to do this, y/n,” he says, trying to look anywhere but at your breasts. He knows he won’t be able to contain his arousal and you’re practically sat on top of it already.

“I know I don’t. I’m doing it because I want to. I want you to look, I want you to feel me.” Your hands return to their grip on the back of the settee. You lean forward, arching your back so that the end of his braided beard is tickling your skin just above the edge of your bra cups.

Thor lets out a small, frustrated noise. You’re making this hard for him, in more ways than one. Yes, he wants to look at you, to feel you, to kiss you. But the fear is there, that despite what you’ve said, you’ll somehow find him lacking. It takes all of his strength to squash that thought and turn his face to you. Or more accurately, to your cleavage.

His nose settles between your breasts. He closes his eyes and settles there. You’re warm and welcoming, he can hear your heart hammering away as hard as his own. You smell faintly of oakwood absolute from the bath yesterday and he inhales deeply, trying to calm himself. You loop a hand into his hair, trying to encourage him to keep going. He finally lets go of the controller and moves his hands to your hips to steady you.

Thor explores gently, at first, pressing tickly kisses to your chest, inching slowly up to your collarbone. At the hollow of your neck is where his kisses become fiercer. His hands move to your back, pulling him to him, and he nips and sucks insistently at your neck. He takes your gasps and moans as approval, biting hard on both sides before moving up to your ears. His hot breath makes you gasp his name and sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the hairs on your bare arms standing on end. You bring the hand not in his hair to cup his chin, guiding him towards your lips.

His facial hair is scratchy and a little tickly, but you don’t care. You’re glad to finally be making that connection. His lips are soft, pink and plump, like marshmallows, and just as sweet. Your tongue tests the seam of his lips and he lets you in, taking you deeply. It’s been a long time since you experienced a kiss like this, potent with passion from both sides. Thor is running his hands along your back, pressing you into him with a sense of urgency. Your hands are wandering, caressing his cheek and pulling his hair. He returns the favour, lacing his fingers through your locks, pressing you into him. The kisses are getting sloppy and you don’t care. Thor unclips your bra with surprising deftness.

You pull away from him and shrug the straps off, exposing yourself to him. The t-shirt bra, worn for comfort rather than seduction joins your top on the floor.

A rumbling growl escapes his lips as he takes you in. He knows he should feel a bit ashamed of the state he’s left your neck, the deep damson red mottling your skin like a series of wine stains. But he can’t feel ashamed, not now. He grabs hold of your thighs and stands up, carrying you like you weigh nothing. The plate of Pop-Tarts crashes to the floor.

You wrap yourself around him as best you can, you know he can support you but it’s instinctual to grip his sides with your thighs, limbs tangling up him like vines climbing up an oak.

He lowers you gently onto the bed and lays down beside you, the tip of his nose touching yours. Neither of you wants to make the first move. You’re making progress and you don’t want to ruin it. Thor, for his part, isn’t sure how to proceed. He wants to take you but he doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s changed since the last time he was intimate with another.

You giggle at him and give him a swift peck, bringing him back to the here and now. Your hand slips down to his crotch and you’re pleased to find him already hard. Pleased and a little concerned. Your quip about men with big feet appears to be true. You run your hand up and down over his jogging bottoms. He gasps in surprise and pulls you to him for another kiss. You increase the pressure on his erection incrementally until he can’t stand it any longer.

“I need to get out of these damn clothes,” he huffed, yanking down the constricting garments and freeing his hard-on.

“Fuck me,” you gasped as you caught a glimpse of it. This was by no means the first cock you’d seen, but it was certainly the biggest. It made sense you reasoned, the rest of him was long and girthy, so why not this bit? You hoped he wasn’t the kind who thought a big dick was all you needed. That’d be a disappointment if he was a thrust-until-he-came guy, without any regard for your needs.

“Well, I mean, I think that’s the plan,” Thor laughed nervously in response.

You decided to match him and shuffled out of your jeans, hoping he hadn’t noticed how damp your knickers already were. Thor slipped off his cardigan but his top remained in place.

“C’mon Thor, let me see you. All of you,” you urged him, reaching for the hem of his top. “If I’m letting you see my thunder thighs, I should be able to see your tummy.”

“Your what? Thunder thighs?” he laughed, deflecting the conversation away from himself. Your thighs look lovely to him, he can’t wait to get between them. The little marks look like fingers of lightning but other than that, he can’t understand the reference to thunder.

“You know, chunky thighs that rub together when you walk. Look at them, they look like hams.”

“They do not. And even if they did, ham is great. It’d just make me want to eat them more.”

“You can’t eat my legs,” you laughed, tugging at his t-shirt.

“Oh? Is that so?” he smirked, diving towards your lap, biting, sucking, kissing all over your thighs. “You said they were thunder thighs. I’m the god of thunder so they’re my thighs now. And I want to eat them.”

“No, no,” you said, pushing his head away. “Not until you’re undressed.”

With a pout and a sigh, he turned around and pulled off his top, letting it drop by the side of the bed. He could see himself in the full-length mirror. He’d forgotten that even existed, having long since let it be buried under layers of dust. The only thing he’d used it for in years was for draping his cape over when he couldn’t be bothered to hang it properly. Apparently, you’d unearthed it and cleaned it up. How had he not noticed that? He supposed he was so used to everything being a mess that he’d tuned it out, didn’t even bother to look in that corner anymore.

You, too, could see him in the mirror. You saw him frown and poke himself in his soft stomach. Standing slowly, you walked in front of him to stand between him and the mirror.

“Thor. I know you don’t like what you see but I do. Let me touch you. Please?”

He grumbled a little but lay back. You still hadn’t run away so you either did find him attractive or were doing this out of pity.

You laid down next to him, stroking his hair. It was much softer than it had been before you washed it. You nuzzled into the side of his neck, nibbling and kissing at him. Not as hard as he’d done it to you, but with enough of a bite to let him know you were there. A long, drawn-out ‘Oh’ spilt from his lips, encouraging you to be rougher. Your hand moved from his hair, stroking his cheek and his neck, before landing on his chest. Spreading your fingers through the hair, you moved close to his nipple but not quite enough to arouse him, yet. He moans as you leave your mark on him, a deep bruise to rival the ones he gave you.

With sloppy kisses and sharp bites, your mouth trailed down to his chest and his pert nipples. Based on his reaction yesterday, you knew he was going to like this. You flicked your tongue over the one nearest to you, while your index finger lazily circled the other.

Thor could barely breathe. Was he dying? Was this Valhalla? He didn’t know, he just didn’t want you to stop. He hoped his breathy moans and guttural groans were letting you know just how much he was enjoying it.

The tongue on his nipple was replaced by your lips sucking, the finger circles intensifying when you changed from the pad of your finger to the tip of your nail. Just as he was beginning to get himself under control, you kicked it up a notch again. You bit his nipple just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure and pain through him, your fingers tweaking and twisting the other.

Were all Midgardian women like this? If they were, he’d been missing out. No. Wait. Jane hadn’t been like this. He was so lost in the feel of your mouth on him, he didn’t even mind when your fingers danced away and landed on his stomach.

Your mouth soon followed, kissing all over. He hadn’t realised how sensitive his stomach was now and how good it felt as you worshipped him. He even managed to laugh as your nose dipped into his navel. You took him in hand so you could continue kissing down his soft underbelly.

Thor could barely contain himself. He could feel your hot breath against his cock as your lips pressed down everywhere but there. This was the most delightful torture, he wanted to be inside you so badly but he wasn’t going to force you to do anything. You clearly knew what you were doing and had made it your personal mission to tease him until he could no longer focus on anything else.

He parted his thighs a little as your hungry mouth travelled further down his body. One hand remained rubbing his cock, while with the other you began raking your nails down his inner thigh. Oh Norns, if he’d thought the rest of him was sensitive to your touch, he inner thigh surpassed it all. He tried to tell you that it was too much, that he couldn’t hold on, but then you started sucking a deep love bite on his thigh and that was it.

His legs trembled violently beneath you and you heard him gasping curses. You realised too late what you’d set in motion and looked up in time to see him coating his rounded tummy with cum. He was certainly a sight to behold, sticky, sweaty and smiling, covered in the marks of your affection.

You sat back and licked him off your fingers. Warm, salty, and satisfyingly savoury. Like liquid umami, it had you wanting another taste. For a moment you toyed with this idea of licking him clean, before concluding that might perturb him.

The smile soon turned to a frown, his brow furrowed as he realised quite what had happened.

“Oh Norns, I’m so sorry y/n. I’m not normally like that, you have my word. What you were doing felt so good and it’s been so long and I just couldn’t stop and…”

“Shh, shh. It’s alright,” you tried to reassure him, seeing the panic, the disappointment, in his eyes.

“But I’ve let you down…”

“No, no you haven’t. I’m pleased to have had that effect on you. We’ve got plenty of time to explore each other. For now, you look like you need a cuddle.” You moved to sit with your back to the headboard. “C’mere. Please?” You patted the bed next to you.

Thor hauled himself onto his elbows and shuffled up to you, trying not to get his spunk on the bedding. He felt ridiculous, covered in his own seed, traitorous cock resting limply against his thigh. But you’re right. He needs a cuddle. Wants a cuddle. So he rests his head on your chest and lets you wrap your arms around him. At some point, he’ll let you use him as a cushion but he’s feeling a little broken and like he’s failed you. It’s like being a teenager again and having no control over himself.

“May I ask you something?” you said, as you ran your hand down his still muscular bicep.

“Certainly.”

“How long has it been?”

“A long time. Before the snap, before Asgard fell,” he replied with a sigh. “I was too busy, trying to fight, to protect. Not that it mattered.”

“It mattered, of course it did.”

“And then since the snap, nobody’s wanted me.”

“Nobody wanted you or nobody was allowed to get close?”

“Both, I suppose. I could’ve demanded, as their king, that somebody lay with me but that’s not right. You shouldn’t force people into doing things because they think it’s their duty. I might only have one real eye, but I’m not blind. I see how people look at me. They don’t see any of the good things I’ve done. They just see a fat, stupid drunk. A joke who can’t run a bath let alone a kingdom. A failure who should’ve gone for the head.”

His voice is cracking and the tears are falling onto your breast.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok,” you try to soothe. “I know how it feels to hate yourself. I know your brain is telling you otherwise but that’s not all people think of you. It’s not what I think of you. People’s memories aren’t so short that they forget everything else you’ve done. One mistake - and it was a mistake, how were you supposed to know? - doesn’t erase everything else. You’ve done more good since you became an Avenger than most people could manage in a hundred lifetimes. I like you. Nothing I’ve seen so far has made me think anything less of you.”

“But I’m not the man I used to be,” he sniffled.

“Thor, none of us are who we used to be. That’s how we grow as people. After everything that’s happened, I’d be concerned if you hadn’t changed a bit.”

“But you know what I used to be like.”

“Only in the sense that I knew what you looked like in news footage. I didn’t know you. But I’d like to.”

You pulled him closer to you, rubbing his arm, hoping that you’re making some small dent in just how crap he feels.

“Thank you,” he mumbled after a while.

“For what?”

“For how you treated me. I’ve been so scared and ashamed to touch myself since...everything. But I really enjoyed that.”

I could tell, you thought, but had enough not common sense not to say it.

“I understand. When my depression is at its worst, I don’t have any desire to be intimate. By myself or with anyone. And if it does somehow happen, it’s just going through the motions. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean just that. My whole body, how you took the time to lavish attention everywhere. Nobody’s done that before. Not even when I was attractive.”

“You’re attractive now. Honestly. I wouldn’t be here, naked on your bed if I wasn’t attracted to you.”

“Well, no. I guess not,” he admitted.

“And I’ll just have to keep smothering you with kisses until you believe me. Besides,” you added with a grin, “aren’t us mortals supposed to worship gods like you?”

This makes him laugh. A full, booming belly laugh that makes him jiggle all over.

“I think we should get you cleaned up and see if I can give you some more adoration, I think I missed some bits.”

That’s the best idea Thor’s heard in a long time.

@morganhoran1671 As promised, here it is.

#thor #Thor Odinson #fat thor #endgame thor #thicc thor #squishy thor #soft thor #chubby thor #dark 'n' stormy #reader insert #Female reader #avengers x reader #reader x thor #x reader

[ducktracy]

12. the tree’s knees (1931)

release date: july 25th, 1931

series: looney tunes

director: hugh harman and rudolf ising

starring: johnny murray (bosko)

the tree’s knees would be the last bosko cartoon that wouldn’t feature his name in the title. also, it would be the last cartoon directed by BOTH harman and ising! after this, rudolf ising would go on to direct every merrie melodies cartoon, and hugh harman would direct every looney tunes cartoon until their departure from warner bros and onto mgm in 1933.

bosko (like in virtually every other cartoon thus far) is whistling merrily as he strides through the forest, lugging an axe behind him. we get some neat reflection shots as he passes by various puddles.

finally, he approaches his destination: a nice big tree. just as he prepares himself to strike his axe into the tree, the tree comes to life and cowers, mortified.

a squirrel pops out of the tree and pleads “oh, won’t you spare that tree!” four miniature trees (its children) cower around the giant tree as bosko frowns, thinking. instead of striking an axe into the tree and murdering it in front of its family (which i love the concept of, very funny and morbid), he reaches into his pants and pulls out a harmonica, puffing out a rousing rendition of “here we go round the mulberry bush.”

the trees dance around it’s parental figure, using it like a maypole, clearly ecstatic that a murder has been avoided. bosko gives his familiar “ain’t that cute?” catchphrase. one of the tree children blows a raspberry at bosko, prompting bosko to chase after it (the scene being entirely reused from ain’t nature grand!, though the tree replaces a butterfly that bosko had been chasing).

catching the tree, bosko tears off its bark, leaving the tree shivering, naked, and distraught (what a description!). the tree gives bosko a swift kick to the knee, shuffling back into its skin and marching away in a huff. bosko exclaims “well, shut my mouth!” (also reused from ain’t nature grand!) and strides away with his axe, reusing the same animation from the beginning of the short.

focus is now on a mother bird singing “rock a bye baby” to her children, with an anthropomorphic tree rocking the nest of birds. at one point, the tree rocks the nest, but the birds stay suspended in midair and try to clamor for safety. once again, bosko remarks “ain’t that cute!”

evidently it ain’t all that cute, because one of the birds shits on his hat and we get this GREAT expression of him gawking in disgust.

we find out that it isn’t bird shit after all (very clever!), but a bird spitting at bosko. bosko scowls up at the bird, but as soon as we think he’s going to take action, a butterfly flits into scene and bosko gets distracted, chasing it and reusing footage from, once again, ain’t nature grand! this could actually be a really funny gag if executed properly, but unfortunately it isn’t. if bosko were about to strike at the bird, maybe pull up his sleeve and prepare to punch it with a nice suspenseful string track in the background, the bird cowering in fear... when all of the sudden the butterfly comes in and he chases it—now THAT would be good, and i’m not sure if that’s what they were potentially aiming for? but the butterfly is mainly used as a segue and an excuse to reuse some more animation.

bosko chases after the butterfly, who flies in between a line of bitch trees, which bosko sees as a wonderful opportunity to use as a harp. we move into our musical portion of the cartoon with some visual puns, such as a literal weeping willow tree and cattails meowing in time to the music by a pond.

the gag of the matryoshka birds from congo jazz (and big man from the north too, technically, though THAT was reused from congo jazz) once more makes an appearance. the concept of mice playing and bouncing around on a saw is also used again, borrowed from hold anything. as you can probably tell by now, this cartoon in particular rehashes a lot of gags and footage from previous cartoons, thus draining it of any form of individuality or distinguishablity.

(deliberately poor photo use... it’s water!) one of the mice jumps into the pond and starts to drown, prompting the other mouse to save it. the first mouse is swelled up like a balloon full of water, and after unsuccessfully poking it sitting upright, causing the mouse to spew a ton of water on the other mouse’s face (confused yet?). mouse 1 falls on its back and mouse 2 slides its tail up, smoothing out the balloon and getting rid of the water.

to celebrate another death prevented after the first near death experience in the same cartoon, the mice saw off a slice of a nearby log and together form the shape of a phonograph, segueing us into one final musical dance sequence as the cartoon comes to a close.

unfortunately, this cartoon was even more barren than the other bosko cartoons. bosko doesn’t have much personality to begin with—honey fares slightly better, so the two of them make a good pair in cartoons, but honey is absent in this cartoon, and consequently, so is any charisma. i have no problem with reusing animation, you gotta do what you gotta do, but the butterfly sequence from ain’t nature grand! was used twice in this short (and one time with the same butterfly). like the rest of the bosko cartoons that are subpar, it feels as if they had too much time to deal with and not enough material. overall it wasn’t a memorable short. the highlight was probably tricking the audience into thinking a bird shit on bosko (that was very clever!) and the mice forming the phonograph also makes for a funny drawing. the music was catchy and enjoyable as always, but that’s about it. unfortunately, there isn’t much going for this short. not terrible, but boring.

#lt #the tree’s knees #our next review is gonna be the first ever merrie melody! excited to see mickey mouse’s identical fox twin foxy #long post #reviews #racism tw

[accio-firewhiskey]

Penance Series: From Here to There (formerly Blandishments)

Summary: Belle continues to make hats with Jefferson. Penance Series. Teen!Belle. Age 13-14. References and quotes from Goblin Market.

--

Her visits he cannot call (cannot call at’all—Regina fails to pay the bill) frequent, but they do occur, at least. Often-even: last summer and fall, the weather agreeable for much longer than usual, but with the first snowfall, the weather was against their seamstressing. She could not cross his threshold, could not drink his tea. The imp no longer accompanied his ward, whenever she knocked upon Hatter’s door, but that did not ease his fear—far or near, Rumpelstiltskin was always, always, always to be feared.

There is still snow on the ground when she knocks in late January. “Isn’t this a surprise,” he says, leaning against the doorframe, with a smirk. He lies, because he spied her walking this way, despite the sludge on the curbs, piled there from trucks and dirtied with mud and salt. She’d slipped from the house, Rumpelstiltskin out to lurk about the town, thinking her safe and warm and reading by his fireplace. Instead, she’s here, wrapped up in a coat and boots, sewing kit pocketed. Her needles are leather and upholstery needles, so quite sharp. She pricked herself more times than he can count on both their hands, drawing enough blood for curses a-plenty, but Jefferson had burned the tissues and made no mention when his warden came ‘round.

 He had his own use for her, after all.

 “Hi,” she answers, eyes and smile bright, eager little thing. She’s not so slight anymore, jutting up, a growth spurt since last she stood on his porch. She holds up her kit, small and perfect—like her. Like his Grace. “I thought we could practice.”

 He shivers not, but feels the cold without his coat, pouring past him into the house. He does not move, but chuckles, “Wool and snow do not mix.”

 She frowns, “What?”

 Drawing the door shut behind him, he saunters around to the back veranda, where the iron-rod table and chairs still bear a layer of snow and ice, “I think we’re out of luck today, Jingle.”  

 She places her be-mittened hands on the wrought-iron chair, and toys the foot of her boot in the snow, “We could go inside?”

 Jefferson smirks, “What a naughty trick to play.” Brushing his hand across the table, he swats a handful of half-melted snow at the little nuisance. “Now you know we can’t do that—your guardian would lose his head and so would I,” he tells her, tilting his face this way and that (the irony of the statement is lost on the child). She doesn’t answer, and he can see that she’s building a snowball. He rolls his eyes at this game of theirs, but magic was in short supply, with Regina dipping into her stores once every few years. This jingle bell would have to do. “Why would you want to get me in trouble with your Mr. Gold?”

 She packs the snowball between her hands, tight and icy—it would hurt if she knew how to aim (he thinks that’s not the only weapon she could wield). “He doesn’t have to know?” she poses the statement as a question.

 Grasping her wrist just as she brought it back to lob the snowball at him, he crumbles it over her head, as she giggles, “That’s not how this works.”

 “Hey!” she squeals, brushing the snow from her hat and hair.

 Bending down on his haunches so they are face to face, he admits, “You’re not ready.”

 “Ready for what?”

 “To go inside.”

 “Why not?” she asks impertinent.

 “Because the day we make hats inside is the day you never come back.”

 She blinks at him, and as she mulls over the words her smile droops and then falls (she dwindled, he thinks to himself, dwindled, as the fair full moon—they weren’t ready yet for the swift decay and burn. Her fire wasn’t ready yet).

 The moments holds: she must not cross his threshold, must not drink his tea, but then Jefferson winks and stands and tosses more snow in her direction, “Come back when it’s dry. We’ll work on bowler hats.”

 --

 She comes back a month later. She comes back but waits just long enough that Jefferson begins to worry he did indeed scare her. Her hats improve, despite the bite in the February air, despite their iced fingers (her repartee too, is biting and improved, he hates that he looks forward to these visits, because magic is cruel and he only wants her magic).

 “Why don’t you go outside,” she asks, mid-stitch.

 “We are outside,” he replies in a mumble, his mouth full of straight pins.

 Belle rolls her eyes, “Not your yard, but, you know, outside, into the city.”

 He scoffs, “Generous.”

 “What?”

 “It’s hardly a town—Storybrooke is a play thing, little and trite, what’s to see out there anyway—Storybrooke is for the dolls?”

 Her face takes on a strange expression at the mention of dolls (and he knows she sneaks around to play with her dollies when Rumpelstiltskin is away), “Don’t you get lonely all by yourself?”

 “Nosy, nosy, nosy, Jingle!” he says, tapping her own button nose, “Didn’t your owner teach you that nosy girls lose their noses, fingers and all ten toes?”

 She frowns at him, huffing, “He’s not my owner.”

 Tilting his head, taking the final pin from his mouth and depositing it into the half-a-hat in his hands, he asks, “Then what is he?”

  His loud, ringing, annoying, endearing little bell takes her time to answer him, but finally shrugs, “He just isn’t.”

 --

 She takes longer to return again and looks quite worn down. Her only words of explanation: “School.”

 “Ah, I see.” He doesn’t see. He never had tutors in the old world. Grace never had tutors in the old world. Though his apprenticeship had worn him ragged—but he wore raggedy so well. Perhaps that’s why he’d never stopped.

 That and the poverty.

 They finish three hats—just hats, for a hat without magic is just another hat—and the final one tips over, as she hops from the chair to stand. They were done for the day, and she was gathering up her things, but Jefferson, setting the hat upside down, on a whim he offhandedly orders: “You should give it a spin.”

 Belle looked up, a question between her brow.

 He threw his head toward the hat, “Come on, like this,” he shows her the move. “It’s all in the wrist.”

 The hat does nothing but spin—has done nothing but spin for fourteen years and more for Jefferson, but maybe, just maybe (it was so hard, not speaking to her of magic—not even a whisper—and he had crossed his heart he wouldn’t, but there would come a time, when his heart would break and free him from his promises, promises).

 Staring up at him, mouth agape, the child spins the cap.

 Nothing.

 It wobbles and topples over, “Like that?”

 He sighs, “No, not like that.”

 --

 Next time, they decide to make use of the greenhouse. Yes, Regina gave him a greenhouse to hold all the dead things he can’t make grow. He can make hats without magic and vegetables without life. How splendid. How talented.

 She runs through the space a little wild, bouncing like a rabbit, huffing like a caterpillar. He leans against the doorway, wondering at the wisdom of this exercise. She’d asked again to see the inside of his house. He should call Gold, make him keep her in line. This didn’t fit with his timeline (and he had never been a patient man). She was curious about these strange rules and this strange man who made hats and odd quips.

 “Quips” she called them, she got it from her caregiver’s vocabulary. So strange listening to the Dark One’s wit from the mouth of a child—she’s innocent, yes, but she could be oh, so wicked someday.  

 She twirls about, in cap and gown, and the hatter, has to blink (as he tries to chip away at his impervious chains—clink—clink—clink).

She looks like his Grace, dancing through outdoor rooms and space, and worlds…

Jefferson shakes his head, and snatching the top hat off the child, mid-spin, he throws a thumb to the door, “That’s enough haberdashery for one day.” Too stuffy in the greenhouse anyway, in the May-day heat.

 --

 Jefferson hates summertime and summertime hates Jefferson. His neck sweats from the scarves, and the scar tissue breaks out from the sweat. The heat prickles under his heavy garments. He is a mess, inside and out, stir crazy from not stirring out of doors. His mind stirs with possibilities and limitations, and he watches.

 He watches everything, for there is so much to watch.

 He spots them, Jingle Belle and Grace. They play in the park. They walk to the beach. They talk with dwarves and avoid Paige’s parents. Each time, he drops the telescope and stalks away, to bang his head against a wall.

 He does not stop watching. They flit from here to there and everywhere in between (but nowhere near him—never near him). Asking the Jingle Belle to bring his Grace from there to here would be too much, too much a request.

 When next she calls, his hands twitch with the desire to ask her every single question about his Grace, but he restrains himself. He does not even let her practice their craft: “Today’s not good, Jingle. Today’s no good at all.” Wraps his free hand around his torso. He would wrap the other around himself when she left.

 She looks sad but swipes away the sweat from her forehead from running all the way from Rumpelstiltskin’s castle to play haberdashers with her strange friend without arguing over his dismissal. He wonders if Grace can sew. He wonders where she’s run to since he’d left his post to answer the loud, annoying little doorbell.

 Closing the door he thinks to himself that summertime hates Jefferson, because he’s the only one that can see that summertime means nothing when the year repeats itself over and over and over and over.

 (He wraps his arms around himself and rocks over and over and over).  

 --

 Regina has tried his nerves. Life has tried his nerves. Queens and cards and hat boxes and telephone receivers have all tried his nerves. The air conditioning unit has broken, and it is so very hot inside and out that even the telescope glass has fogged. What’s more, even to begin with, he had so little nerve to try.

 Then the doorbell rang.

 He knows it’s her, blue jay, bluebonnet, bluebell, blue and cool and so very, very trying. He opens the door only a crack, “Today’s no good, Jingle.” Not when he’s stressing his seams, and all his filling feels fit to burst.

 She frowns, Gold’s little bird, Gold’s little flower. She’s in bloom, his darling dear danger. “You said that last time,” she pouts. He thinks her nearly about to stamp a foot, but she stops just short.

 (But not so short, because she grows here. He’s seen a wall in Granny’s marked with the heights of her and wolf girl. Blue’s steadily inches up the door frame, while Red’s jumps, once a year—all her inches coming from the queen’s drop of loose magic. It’s lazy and sloppy and he knows that Jingle notices the sputtering spurts. She’s no fool. She’s a jack or an ace, some day perhaps even a queen in her own right).

 Today she’s a child and has a child’s temper. He can smell her sweaty hair and the scent of freshly mown grass clippings, in that way of all children in summertime. Even his Grace, surely. Wilted lilacs sit behind her ear, and it does not match, the violet color, with her indigo eyes, but the terror does not turn away. She stares, this mismatched picture, crossing her arms over her chest, and argues with him, “Please. I’m bored.”

 Bored, she says; she’s no idea what true boredom meant, “No.”

 “Jefferson,” Belle whines. “Just this once,” an idea strikes her, “I didn’t see you around my birthday—this could be my birthday present!”

 His eyes narrow: “You have grown.”

 “You don’t look any older,” she replies, squinting with her child’s honesty.

 “Oh, but I am,” he leans closer, “older than you can possibly imagine.”  

 She laughs, for no reason, and he laughs too. Hearing it in his own ears, it is a feral sound. Strangely, he begins to wonder why he denied her. What was the harm, laughing with Gold’s pet? What was the harm, pulling out his needles and fabric scissors? “Well, maybe,” he begins.

 She claps her hands together, and turns to the backyard, but Jefferson stares down at her, noticing her cheeks, little globes, fair and red. She is overheated; they could not, should not sit out in the sun, nor would the greenhouse do, for it was sure to be ten degrees warmer. Perhaps, if they opened every window, some doors even, that would be enough. They could let some breeze into the house, and if the wind blew, where they really inside at all?

 They could let themselves into the house, surely they could. Stepping back, he pushes the door open fully, and waves an arm, “Hey, Jingle.”

 She turns, eyes widening, realizing what he’s offering as her gift, “Really?”

 “Well, this is supposed to be a present, after all.”

 --

 They hear something else fall in a different room. She looks up from her hat, the ribbons blowing in the wind from the window. “Are you sure we should have all these windows open?” Mr. Gold hated when she left a window open anywhere near the study and his papers and files blew off the desk. “There’s gonna be a lot to clean up.”

 He waves his hand wildly at her, “It’s fine. It’s fine. Just keep sewing.”

 Her hands stop. Jefferson was acting weird. For a minute, she wonders if this was a bad idea. She hadn’t told Mr. Gold she was going over to work on hats. It was just an idea, after Ruby had to go help Granny in the diner. She was bored. Mr. Gold was busy all day in the shop, and Miss Kathy had work too, but Mr. Jefferson never had anything to do.

 He was always there, in his big house.

 After inviting her inside, they had worked to open most of the windows on the bottom floor. She got to see the kitchen, dining room, and more sitting and living rooms that even Mr. Gold’s house had. Next, they’d moved to the second floor. Here he didn’t let her into every room, but all the rooms she did see where filled with hats. Hats of all kinds. Some were finished, some were half done.

 (“Why don’t you finish them?” she had asked. “Because it makes no difference,” he had answered.”)

 They had gotten to work, at an extra tall table, like the bar in the kitchen at home. Her feet didn’t reach the floor, and he’d had to grab her a stool from downstairs. He offered to bring her tea—he didn’t smirk or laugh—seemed like he didn’t remember Mr. Gold’s rules at all.

 She said “no, thank you” with all her polite manners. She was thirsty, but not too thirsty. Besides, if she was too thirsty, she could just go home. It would be fine.

 Jefferson complimented her work every so often—more than usual. “That’s a very fine hat, very fine indeed.”

 “Thanks.”

 “Maybe this one’s special?”

 She opens her mouth, to ask what he means, when the doorbell rings.

 They both drop their work.

 “Shit,” Jefferson says.

 Her heart to pounds; if it was Mr. Gold she was in serious trouble, more serious than when she had bitten the dentist or kicking Mrs. Mavis’ cat, more serious than sneaking into the mayor’s yard—maybe the most serious trouble she had ever been in her whole life.

 Apparently, Jefferson was going to be in serious trouble too. “Shit, shit.” Racing around the table, he nearly pulls her off the barstool by the neck on her shirt. “We got to hide you.” Dragging her to the opposite end of the humongous room, he pushes her toward a counter. “Get up there,” letting her go, he opens one of the cabinets above. “This should hold.” Throwing the contents out, he orders, “Climb in.”

 It’s only a moment before the doorbell rings a second time, and she finally obeys, fearing confession more than being discovered. He closes the door on her, and, in the dark, she can hear him racing down the stairs.

 She tries to stop breathing so hard.

 --

 Jefferson curses to himself. This was a bad idea, but then he didn’t think Rumpelstiltskin had it in him to wait for an answer to the first doorbell if he truly believe his little pet inside. No, Rumpelstiltskin would have worked the door open, worked him open, worked everything down to the bone if he thought Belle inside.

 The very fact that Jefferson stood to run downstairs, to compose himself before opening the door, meant that it most certainly was not Mr. Gold, which meant it could only be one other person—which meant it could only be worse, far, far worse.

 Already, he could feel himself struggling to keep the deck together between shuffling and dealing, but with one queen up his sleeve, and one at his door, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep this going.

 He opens the door, slipping his free hand into his pocket, he smiles at his surprise visitor: “Regina, to what do I owe the honor?”

 She raises an eyebrow, “Well, someone’s in a better mood.” She holds two paper bags on her hip. “Thought I’d make my deliveries in person this month.”

 He frowns, “You didn’t bring a toolbox by chance?”

 She rolls her eyes, “Now, now, it can’t be that warm.” Ah, so she had gotten his message after all. Although, as she makes her way into the kitchen, Jefferson following, he can tell she doesn’t care for the temperature. “I called the AC guy. He should be here later in the week.” She unceremoniously drops his supplies down on the countertop, looking around, taking in the open windows, “Fresh air—not very like you, Jefferson.”

 He shrugs, forcing a casual reply, “What was I supposed to do?”

 The blood-red queen opens her mouth to answer, when they both hear a creak—from up above. She raises an eyebrow, and after a beat, shoves past him toward the stairs, “Jefferson, are you entertaining?”  

 “Regina!” he calls, taking the steps two at a time. He slips between her and the doorway, resting his elbow against it, blocking the work space with his body, “You know how I feel about keeping my work private.”

 She glares at him, “Uh huh—I’m well acquainted with you work.” The queen barrels past him, her eyes darting around. She throws open the cabinet door beneath the table, checks inside the closet. Finding nothing, she sighs, turning back to Jefferson.

 “What are you looking for?”

 “I’m looking for—” she stops, as her eyes narrow on the two hats on the table. “Jefferson, I’m only going to ask you once more: are you hiding someone from me?” her voice is near a whisper, and far more threatening than usual.

 “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She points to the two hats on the table, half-made, on pins and needles—just like him. “Then what are those?” she asks innocent—as innocent as when he had first met her.

 His heart falls to his feet, and he feels just like when his body fell to the floor, detached from his head. He feels as if he watches his body move all of its own accord. Sauntering over, he takes the hat from her hands sharply, “What? Never known someone to multi-task? But then you always were a little single-minded.”

 She frowns, “You’re lying.” She slowly circles him, but with little warning, flips, crossing the room to throw open the high cabinets above the countertop, yelling “Ah-hah!”

 It’s empty.

 When he can manage to inhale, he raises a hand, “See—stop being so paranoid. Are you getting heat stroke?”

 Regina rushes him, and with a finger to his chest, tells him, “Whatever you’re playing at, Hatter, you better know that I have a monopoly on magic around here.”

 “You know, never been much on the game myself.”

 “You’re crazy,” she mocks, “and you’re not going anywhere—so give it up. Any magic—anyone special—you think you’ve found, it’s because I’ve let you.” She pushes past him, and the sound of the door slamming can be heard from the workroom, but Jefferson doesn’t register it.

 A little head pops up from outside the window sill, “That was scary!” Hopping back into the room, Belle flexes her fingers, “That’s a lot harder than trees.” She looks up to her friend, who stands stock still, “Jefferson. You okay?”

 He turns to her, “You have to make it work.”

 Belle frowns, “Make what work.” After a second, she asks, “Why did the mayor call you ‘Hatter’?”

 “Yes—the hat, you have to fix it.” He walks up, and Belle without meaning to, takes a step backward. He takes her by the shoulders and guides her back to the worktable. “You have to make it work or I’m never going home, I’ll never get her back.”

 Belle frowns, “Get who back?”

 He sighs, “Not yet—finish it. Finish the hat.”

 Belle pushes down the feelings of fear. It feels like earlier, with his odd words and movements, but worse, much. Hands shaking just a little, she picks up her hat. This one has an orange ribbon. He paces behind her as she works, and strangely it does not slow her down—he is making her nervous—but somehow it speeds up her stitches, feeling him right behind her shoulder.

 As she ties her final knot in the threat and cuts off the excess, Jefferson grabs it from her hands.

 “I’m done.” She begins to move to stand, but he stops her.

 “No, not until you make it work.”

 “Make what work.”

 “Spin it, spin it, but with magic—you have magic, I know you can do it.”

 Belle eyes widen, “Magic—magic’s not real, Jefferson. Magic is just in stories.” She’s worried now, worried about her friend (worried about herself).

 He laughs then, a heavy, honeyed chuckle, “No—no it’s not—what do you think all those stories are you learn in school? Does that make them any less real because you learned about them as stories?”

 “Jefferson—I don’t—”

 “Come on! Don’t be so gullible, Jingle—that’s exactly what she wants you to believe! It’s that kind of thinking that got you stuck in her tower in the first place! Now get it to work.” His hands wrap around hers, and he makes her spin the hat as they had that one other time. He makes her spin it over and over.

 Nothing happens.

 “You’re not trying hard enough!” Jefferson practically shouts. “You have to try—or I’ll be cursed to live in this town forever.” Despite all his blandishments, all his training and praise, she’s holding out, she’s keeping all the magic for herself.

 Selfish—just like everyone else.

 “Make it work!” he shouts, but the kid twists and suddenly there’s an elbow to his stomach, quickly followed by one to his groin, and then she’s gone, racing out the door.

 --

 Belle doesn’t stop running until she’s far, far away from Jefferson’s place.

 Magic, he’d said she had magic, and towers and curses, too. He spoke words from her nightmares—and worse, he’d yelled at her.

 She stops to catch her breath after hopping the fence into Gold’s garden. That’s when she realizes she’s crying.

 She thinks of Mr. Knightley, the gym teacher, and she’s so thankful for the lessons. Belle never thought she would ever have to use those, but her training kicked in just when she needed it. Belle never thought she would have to use those on Jefferson.

 Jefferson was her friend, but he had scared her. She wipes harshly at her face, getting rid of her stupid tears. She was safe now. She was home.

 Mr. Gold never needed to know—

 “Belle?”

 She jumps, throwing her arms up in front of her, only to see Mr. Dove, standing there, shovel in hand, wearing a plain apron she recognizes from when Mr. Gold pulls weeds during the weekends.

 “Mr. Dove,” she squeaks.

 “What’s happened?” he asks in his deep voice. He takes in her wild hair, torn shorts and red eyes. He frowns, gripping the shovel tight, “Did someone hurt you?”

 “No—don’t tell Mr. Gold!”

 Mr. Dove frowns, “You’re not supposed to lie Miss French, and you know I can’t lie to Mr. Gold either.”

 She frowns, her tears creeping back up on her, “He’s going to be so mad at me.”

 Sympathy colors the hired hand’s face, “No, don’t cry, Miss Belle.” He sets down the shovel and takes off the apron. “Maybe we can talk about this.” He opens the back door and motions for her to enter first, as befitting a lady, and Dove follows right behind.

 More than comfortable in Gold’s pink house, the large man first fetches the little girl a cold glass of water, which she drinks too fast, causing her to cough. He refills her glass, only after which he gets one for himself. Once cooled, he takes a seat at the kitchen table beside her and asks quietly, “Why would Mr. Gold be mad?”

 “I went someplace I wasn’t supposed to go.”

 He sighs, “Why weren’t you supposed to go?”

 “Because Mr. Gold didn’t think it was safe.”

 Dove gives her a sharp look, and she begins to tear up. “Was it safe, Miss Belle?”

 She shakes her head, “No.”

 “Did someone hurt you?”

 “No.”

 He scratches his chin, “But you were scared.”

 She nods in reply, drinking some more of her water, holding it in both her hands.

 “I think,” he begins diplomatically, “that Mr. Gold is just going to be happy that you got away and that you’re safe now.” She looks up at him. She always had trouble finding her voice around Mr. Dove, but in this moment, she feels so very safe sitting next to him, knowing he’s in the pink house. “I think you should clean up, and maybe you will feel brave enough to tell Mr. Gold what happened.”

 Belle wipes at her eyes again, “Will you stay?”

 “Of course, Miss French.”

 Nodding, she pushes back her chair and heads upstairs, but as she turns on the water to take a shower, she hears Mr. Dove on the phone: “Mr. Gold, I think you need to close the shop early today.”

 --

 When Belle gets out of the shower, brushes her hair and puts on clean clothes, she knows Mr. Gold is home. She can hear them both downstairs, talking over things like “scraped knee,” “terribly frightened,” “running like her life depended on it.”

 She frowns: she was definitely in a lot of trouble.

 Walking downstairs, she keeps her hands behind her back, prim and proper. In the kitchen she finds Mr. Dove washing dishes (a clean apron on, once again) and Mr. Gold sitting at the kitchen table in his usual seat, cane balanced in front of him—he usually liked something to do with his hands while he waited to pronounce judgement (but it wasn’t usually her who was awaiting a sentence).

 He raises an eyebrow to his little ward when he notices her, “Ah, now I hear it’s been an eventful afternoon.”

 Mr. Dove turns to Belle and gives her a little nod. She takes in a big breath and begins her confession, “I did something I’m not supposed to do.”

 Mr. Gold frowned, stating sharply, “I figured that much.”

 A dish clanks loudly in the sink, and her caregiver rolls his head in that direction, “Something to add, Dove?”

 “No, sir.” Mr. Dove answers dispassionately and only mildly sarcastic.

 Turning back to his ward, Mr. Gold prompts, “You were saying?”

 “I went to make hats with Mr. Jefferson.”

 Mr. Gold’s eyes widen, “You what?”

 “I went—”

 He holds up a hand, “I heard what you said. What I can’t believe is that you would go without telling me. We had a deal.” He stamps his cane on the floor, almost without realizing, “We don’t lie to one another.”

 “I know,” she answers, guilty.

 “Now what happened to make you run like hell?”

 “Mr. Jefferson scared me.”

 “You didn’t drink or eat anything, did you?”

 “No, we just made hats.” She refrains from mentioning Mayor Mills, “but Mr. Jefferson was acting different.”

 “Different?” Gold asks.

 “Yeah, I think he was confused. Maybe sick.” Belle tells him of their hats and how he kept telling her to make it work, and finally, his words on magic. She confesses it all to Mr. Gold.

 When she’s finished. Gold sighs, rubs a hand down his face, but finally stands and walks over to the girl. She wants to start, hunching her shoulders, waiting for her fate.

 He puts a hand to her shoulder, “You got away. You used your training. That’s what matters.” Mr. Dove goes back to washing his dishes—Belle realizes he’d been silent, waiting on the verdict nearly as much as she. “There are still consequences for lying and rule breaking, but I’m just happy you’re safe.”

 Then, Belle blinks in surprise, as Gold pulls her into a stilted hug. He never hugs her. Praises her, teases her, gives her gifts, but he never, never hugs her. After a moment, she hugs him back, “You’re not angry?”

 “Oh, I’m angry, but not with you—well, not entirely.” He pulls back, making her look him in the eye, “There will be consequences, however.” Gold thinks for a moment, “Grounding, I think, until you can remember the importance of veracity.”

 “Veracity?”

 “Truth, dearie.”

 She nods.

 “More hours in the shop too, I think.”

 She held back a groan—should couldn’t read nearly as much in the shop as she wanted, but as she walks to her room (her grounding starting immediately), she thinks it won’t be so bad, as long as she’s with Mr. Gold.

 --

 Jefferson’s asleep when the sound of a door being kicked in rouses him—his door to be precise. Scrambling from where he’d fallen asleep on the floor, he rushes to find some sort of weapon (for he knows who to expect, he knows that nothing good can have come from his afternoon experiment).

 He reaches for a chair, when he senses more than hears the first attempt at a blow. He catches the cane in his own hand. He uses it to push Rumpelstiltskin away, giving himself enough time to grab the chair.

 “We had a deal, boy.”

 “I lied.” He counters a wild attempt at his head with the chair, and using it as a shield, pushes the crippled man back toward the table in the center of the room. Jefferson takes the opportunity to race out, in search of a better weapon. He has a baseball bat two rooms down. He reaches for it under a bed, but he can hear Rumpelstiltskin traipsing down the hall. He finds his feet just in time, standing to counter the cane. “It’s for my daughter. Can you blame me?”

 “Oh yeah, I can.” He’s sloppy, they both are—wild swing meets wild swing. “She’s too young—you put her in harm’s way, and now I’m going to make you pay.”

 “Nothing happened,” Jefferson’s lessons, his gifts could not harm—for she’d no magic, no magic at all, in this world. “She has no magic!” He finally lands a blow. Rumpelstiltskin jostles, knocking into the doorframe. “She’s nothing to me!” He shouts with a laugh, his hungry thirsty roots drove him to search for what wasn’t there—the kid wouldn’t be the one to make the hat work. Leaning toward the Dark One, tone smooth and sweet, “she’s all yours. I’m done with her.” Jefferson turns his back and walks out of the room, leaving the Jingle Belle to the old man’s cantankerous care.

 Belatedly, Rumpelstiltskin yanks on his shoulder with the handle of his cane, bringing Jefferson round to face him. The hatter does not resist. The sorcerer catches his necktie with the handle, tugging it down, before he makes his threat, “You go near her again, and I’ll kill you.” To prove the point, he opens his suit jacket to reveal a handgun, “It’ll be far worse than those little scratches, I assure you.”

 Jefferson tugs free and scoffs, “There’s nothing worse than what I’ve been through—nothing—but then I think you already know that.”

 The older man frowns, giving the haberdasher a little shove with the cane, “Focus, boy, do you mark my words? Stay away from her, or it’s your life.”

 Jefferson raised a hand, “Oh, I fold—she’s not worth the gamble.”

 The answer seems to strike a chord in the dealmaker, but with clenched jaw, his nods once, raises his cane and trudges down the stairs. As the door shuts, Jefferson briefly regrets not returning Blue’s sewing kit—she’d run out and forgotten it.

 Too, he thinks he’ll miss her jokes and her odd humors and her girlish giggle, but then he can always just keep watching her. That would be just as well. Just as grand. Just as lovely as talking and teaching. Watching would do just as well. What was the difference after all, in losing her visits if she could not take him and Grace from here to there?  

 --

 When Mr. Gold returns to the pink house, he sighs in relief. Dove reports that Miss French has not left her room after eating a light dinner and more water to rehydrate. Dove had also finished transplanting the iris bulbs.

 Splendid.

 “Mr. Gold?”

 “Yes, Dove,” he answers with a sigh, thumbing through the stack of mail on the kitchen table.

 “What was the man talking about?”

 Gold’s hands freeze, staring at flyer for the local deli. He recovers quickly, “Jefferson Hatter suffers with frequent delusions and is under house arrests. We’re lucky nothing worse happened this afternoon.”

 Dove has more questions—he can feel it—but the brawny man says nothing and takes his leave, allowing Gold to fully relax for the first since getting the phone call. He pours himself a nightcap and finishes going through the mail. However, an advertisement on sewing machines catches his eye.

 In a few weeks perhaps, he could ask if she wanted one. She might miss the sewing, after all.

#rumbelle fic #penance series #the mad hatter #my writing

[captainkurosolaire]

Character Profile - Kuro Solaire

Basics

FULL NAME: Kuro Solaire COMMON NAME: Captain NICKNAME(S)/ALIAS(ES): Black Sun,

AGE: 35 BIRTHDAY: 6th Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon APPEARS HOW OLD: 29

RACE: Seeker of Sun NATIONALITY: Ul’dah

GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Straight RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married/Poly/Open

Physical

HAIR: Jet Black EYES: Golden

SKIN: Sun-kissed heavily tanned from being often out in the Sun. HEIGHT:  6 fulms BUILD: Lean and toned a muscular stature represented of a fighter.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Several old scars, from dragon swipes across his ribs, an old rapier wounds hidden under his collar, scar above his right eye. A deep scar over his upper pec from a dragoon, to a scar that can be felt on his head, Tattoo’s, he has a south sea tat on his upper arm, The Goldbrand Crest of a Skull with one Brightly Red pigmented eye, with two katana’s in the background of it placed on his upper back near his right shoulder. A compass tattoo on his right hand that matches his family heirloom. Rather hidden tattoo of a detailed black rose the personification and meaning of death with his inner passion towards flowers. Most promptly he has a runic tattoo on his forearm of strange etched summoner lettings seemingly acting as a seal and mainly stays black but also is a form of indicator for something more... barbaric and primal seeping under the surface. COMMON ACCESSORIES / APPAREL: Leather satchel and attire often and minor jewelry, besides wedding ring and sometimes Goldbrand Insignia Ring, presented with almost always a studded leather collar. Talisman containing all his link-pearls which are several and having entire sacks of them from all forms of individuals met in travels. He often sports a black studded large pirate tricorne that symbolizes his Captain status on his crew it’s essentially become his trademark to often wear. He also wears an eye-patch almost always on his left eye. Always typically shirtless!

Personal

PROFESSION: Sea Captain of the Goldbrand, Smuggler, Sailor, Treasure Hunter HOBBIES: Training, Adventuring, Residential Ass-Kicker, Navigator, Erotic Reader, Charmer, Man-whore, Lover TRAINING: Truesight, Many Weapon Skills, Explosives, Drunken Fighting Style, Fearless Skull Style, Noble Fighting Style, Day Robber, Cloning Jitsu, Brawling, Shukuchi(Ghost Step), (Slumbering Amdapori Magick inaccessible without necessary strict requirements met.)

ALLEGIANCE(S): Goldbrand, Various Alliances and Allies RANK(S): Man of the Five Seas AFFILIATION(S): Any

LANGUAGE(S): Eorzean, Pirate, Hingan SOCIAL STATUS: Well-Known, Infamous FINANCIAL STATUS: Wealthy, prefers to live poor in preference for upbringing and to maintain an image, Often spends collective funds on donations to all orphanages in Hydaelyn and creating a program to link all races universally to be accepted via any city-state. CRIMINAL STATUS: Heavy crime record, most likely wanted in all City-States. Lots of reports of indecency and grand theft. EDUCATIONAL STATUS: Mildly Educated in certain subjects, passionate of learning all races and equally trying to incorporate and learn languages to start trades and business transactions on a world scale.

TITLE(S): Pirate, Womanizer, Bastard, Residential Ass-Kicker, Man of the Five Seas, Captain, Black Lion, Dark Sun, Pulse, Shrouded Nightmare ‘Maahes’, Charmer.

RESIDENCE: Collectively travels all over and owns property nearly in all City-States or a place with a Port for convenience BIRTHPLACE: Ul’dah

RELIGION: Himself PATRON DEITY: All Women SPIRITUAL BELIEFS: Freedom

Relationships

SPOUSE(S): Ayla Moenwyb PARTNER(S): Ayla Moenwyb CHILDREN: Probably bastardized many with sending alimony depending on his mood, none he has stuck around or settled.

PARENTS: Hoku Solaire (Father), Rokeia Solaire (Mother) SIBLINGS: Father was a former Nunh before being Exiled so most likely various roaming as Half-Relatives. OTHER RELATIVES: Probably.

ENEMIES/RIVALS: To many mainly, Flaming Pegasus (Vice), Sea Lurkers, Shiro Elune, Treasure King

BEST FRIENDS: All crew from all generations

PETS: Pogee, Baby Bat, A special Bunny ;), Various Pets... Let’s just say tamer by nature and predator.

Attributes

STRENGTH: Above average especially for a Miqo’te often training rigorously from how many pirate wars of late and other battles in the mix. AGILITY: Exceptional, agile, swift, has a pristine balance due to his race. Flexible. WILLPOWER: Unrelenting due to his tremendous confidence, personality, and nearly zero fear even for the scythe of death scraping against his throat. INTELLECT: He’s more socially and culture educated but often flunks out on anything written or book based unless it’s over smut novelty. WISDOM: Kuro has vast experiences and stories so rather simple for him to recall and past down his lessons to others it’s required as a Leader to him. CHARISMA: Outgoing, brash, bold, loud, smooth-talker, cunning, silver-tongue, flirtatious.

COMBAT SKILL: Mainly relies on whatever weaponry he can get a hold of, has no way to access his latent magic without a series of processes and a joining of his inner-side in rare combination. Truesight for only line of defense. He uses various methods and adapts to his opponent and learns in the heat of battle. Often though is carried with a Doma style crafted Katana passed on from the Founder of Goldbrand, Captain Gark. Which also was his Mother’s unknowingly. He also carries dart-guns, revolvers, smoke grenades, net-guns. Anything small or hidden he can often use or trick others or disappear. Never leaves without a way to subdue with strands of folded rope and handcuffs in his satchel.

ARTISTIC SKILL: Drawing portraits of vulgar and nudity mainly memorizing a females body to all the ripest detail. TECHNICAL SKILL: Only to press detonators and buttons until something blows up. MAGICAL SKILL:  Basically none.

—— HABITS —— • Smirking Slyly • Tipping Hat • Standing Openly or Hands in pockets.

—— FEARS —— • None • Though has several uncomfortable dislikes.

Favorites

COLOR: Silver, Gold, and Jet Black SMELL: Flowers, Sex, Occasional Cigars, Saltwater, Outdoors Wilderness FOOD: Fish, Small Diet, Rice Cakes DRINK: Ale, Milk, Water, Rum ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE: All alcohol least preference on wine or fruity alcohol drinks but will take nonetheless, especially if free. The stronger is always better. @aylamoenwyb

[mhsn033]

Coronavirus in South Africa: Why the vuvuzelas fell silent

Image copyright Getty Photos

It’s mid-iciness here in South Africa’s major city of Johannesburg. The opposite morning, I save apart on a woolly hat and scarf to gain the canines for a stroll. My son came with me, in a T-shirt and flip-flops.

As it occurs, we had been both precisely dressed.

South African winters are strictly cloudless affairs. For months, here on the excessive planes in the centre of the country, it is magnificently warmth in the sunshine and bone-chilling in the shade.

And optimistic, there’s a metaphor lurking there.

Right here’s, in any case, a nation of apparently irreconcilable extremes. Of hunger and extra. Kindness and corruption. A precarious, miraculous, juggling act of a country that in a roundabout diagram wobbles on.

Swift action

Enter, the coronavirus. Initially South Africans perceived to rise, collectively, to the occasion.

Attend in March, the authorities introduced one of the main hardest lockdown restrictions in the arena.

Borders and faculties slammed shut. The economy duly ground to a end. Even the sale of alcohol used to be banned.

Folk had been told to end at house, to self-isolate, indefinitely. Easy ample in the suburbs. No longer so convenient for hundreds and hundreds residing in tin shacks and in unhappy, over-crowded townships.

But in a roundabout diagram, it labored. The an infection rate dropped dramatically.

Media playback is unsupported to your instrument

Media captionCoronavirus in South Africa: A day in the existence of a contact tracer

Every night it is possible you’ll presumably hear the blare of vuvuzelas – as folk honked their plastic horns in toughen of medical doctors and nurses.

Even the alcohol ban regarded bearable. It resulted in a dramatic topple in sanatorium casualty admissions. And moreover, there used to be incessantly house-brewed pineapple beer to verify out out.

But four months later – with the lockdown eased to support revive the economy – we are now in the thick of the pandemic.

Over half a million infections. And the public mood has soured.

From Our Possess Correspondent has insight and diagnosis from BBC journalists, correspondents and writers from all the diagram throughout the arena

Listen on iPlayer, salvage the podcast or listen on the BBC World Provider, or on Radio 4 on Saturdays at 11: 30

The vuvuzelas absorb fallen soundless. Hunger and unemployment are hovering. Lifeless men drift throughout the suburbs, begging for meals.

The alcohol ban is being challenged, indignantly, in court docket, and fully disregarded by most folk, who merely make a selection their booze from a thriving black market.

And above all, a fleeting sense of nationwide cohesion is being whittled away, not so powerful by frustration, or impatience, nonetheless by the shameful corruption of South Africa’s political class.

PPE inflation

It’s been an field here for years.

A bloated, politicised civil service feasting on authorities contracts. The utilization of guests and household to present for lucrative tenders.

Looting the narrate with almost total impunity. Extra and extra, the corruption has attain to appear not enjoy an aberration, a flaw in the design, nonetheless rather the design itself.

Reuters

Many South Africans appear to imagine their president is an honourable man. But his latest announcement on looting used to be greeted with hollow laughter

So presumably it used to be inevitable, when the authorities began pumping extra billions into the effectively being sector – for PPE, medication, ventilators – that some of that money would lag missing.

But soundless, how assemble you sigh a 900% label-up for surgical masks?

Or a councillor stealing meals parcels supposed for the unhappy? Or contract after contract going into the pockets of politicians’ all-too-effectively-connected sons and daughters?

President Cyril Ramaphosa not too prolonged previously went on television here to lash out in opposition to the crooks who had been making the most of pain.

He called them a pack of hyenas circling wounded prey. And he promised this would presumably presumably be a turning point, that plucky, decisive action might well presumably presumably be taken.

You would possibly even be attracted to:

Many South Africans appear to imagine their president is an honourable man. That he needs to stop the looting.

But his latest announcement used to be greeted with, at only, hollow laughter.

The governing African Nationwide Congress (ANC) has been promising a tidy-up for decades.

The party will renew itself, whereas soundless in energy, we’re told. Which other party has ever pulled off that cramped trick?

Fearless medical employees

But here is the article.

On your complete miseries I’ve considered here – these previous few weeks in particular – the weary medical doctors indignant that they’ve no correct masks, grieving families delighted their relatives died unnecessarily, South Africa is soundless doing a pretty impressive job at defeating this virus.

Daily confirmed coronavirus instances

South Africa – March to August

The upward an infection curves are starting up to climb support down in most provinces. The death rate appears to absorb stayed surprisingly low.

Out of sight – cameras are strictly forbidden in Covid-19 wards here – heroic medical employees are managing, in a in actuality South African diagram, to diagram some characterize out of chaos.

And optimistic, we’re all carrying our masks here in public. Practically all people. Practically a long way and big. No sophisticated exemptions. No exact argument. It staunch feels enjoy widespread widespread sense.

A couple of days previously, I stood in an quite a bit of graveyard on the fringe of the great, worried city of Port Elizabeth. Cows strolling lazily between the headstones.

A series of hurried burials had been taking put, 15 minutes apart.

Image copyright Getty Photos

Image caption Strict guidelines must soundless be seen for funerals

I believed, like a flash, about this country – this continent’s – capability to absorb hardship, to plough on.

After which I watched every other neighborhood of mourners climb out of a minibus, and soon a snatch of tune wafted over in the direction of me.

A bit of muffled by the masks. But sturdy, harmonious, hopeful. Rising up into every other impossibly blue sky.

from WordPress https://ift.tt/3ioVXtR via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress