thistledear | Drabble Self-Challenge

Day Five is waaaaaay late. But here it is.

God, I'm tired.

Day 5

002. Middles

"That's it, intermission time." Rose hit the pause button on the remote and got up, stretching. "Why the hell did it become acceptable to have movies over two hours? Is Hollywood on CRACK? Any why did I let you talk me into a Lord of The Rings marathon anyway?"

"Because I gave you a choice between this or a Police Academy marathon," Wasp replied, grabbing another kernel of popcorn from the bowl.

She blinked. "And I picked THIS? …Maybe I was on crack."

"That'd be my theory. Also, I know you secretly have a thing for Gmili. Don't deny it."

013. Yellow

Iolanthe held up Isolde, who was beaming over her brand new yellow sundress. It was the nearly the only color on the toddler, who was from head to toe the color of fresh snow with the one exception of her golden, snake-slit eyes—her mother's eyes. She plucked at the skirt and squealed, and Iolanthe grinned.

"All ready for spring?" Rose asked, catching the girl as she launched herself from her mother's arms. "It's a very pretty dress, Issa, yes."

"Her granny made it for her."

"Bonnie?"

"It's not a secret that Mother Dear completely dotes on her grandchildren."

022. Enemies

After about ten minutes, Rose finally called the pixie. "I thought you were coming up to the house to watch TV with me. Supernatural is almost on."

"I want to, but you'll have to come get me," Wasp said. He sounded pissed. "I can hear my fucking arch nemesis out there."

"You have an arch nemesis?"

"A fucking owl. I don't even like coming out at night because of that bitch."

"Oh shit. You know, I've never even thought about you being considered prey. Your snark makes you look bigger. So what about hawks?"

"Hawks can kiss my pixie ass."

039. Taste

"You're not cooking today?" The pixie was a pictorial testament to disappointment. "Are you sick?"

"I hab a code. I cat taste iddythig." Rose grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, which sent her into a fit of coughs, which then had her gasping for breath for the next minute. Disappointment quickly turned to concern as he flitted around her, hands waving as he tried to think.

"Should I call Bonnie? You need soup. She can make soup! You don't want me making soup, it would fit in a thimble and I don't think it would do you any good."

046. Star

"Shooting star!" Rose crowed, pointing at the clear night sky. "I love East Texas! You can actually see the stars here. Seattle? Not so much."

"Did you make a wish?"

Both were lying in a lawn chair in the moonlit backyard garden—or rather, Rose was lying in the lawn chair. Wasp was lying on Rose, stretched out comfortably between her breasts. It was one of the biggest reasons for his attraction to women much larger than himself.

"I don't know what I have left to wish for," she sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "What's left?"

055. Spirit

"I have no spirit," Rose whined, dropping her head in her hands. "I'm spiritless."

Siana dropped another tumbler of Bushmill in front of her, and the girl cheered up immediately. "Yay! I has spirits!"

"I'm not sure I should be serving you anymore," the bartender snorted.

"She's just a whiny drunk," Wasp said, enjoying his own thimble-sized glass.

"The spirits are my frieeeeeeeeeends," Rose cooed, hunched over the glass.

"I take that back. She's a fucking weirdo drunk."

"Yet she's still not as entertaining as Bonnie when she's smashed. On the other hand, she doesn't tear up the tavern, either."

068. Lightning

Wasp thought Rose's habit of chewing on her lip when worried was adorable, but if chewed any harder tonight she wouldn't have a lip left. He also wouldn't have a leg left if she rubbed it any harder.

"You don't like storms?" he asked, reaching out to stroke her neck.

"I don't like lightning," she murmured, turning away from the window. "I had a bad nightmare about it once, and I've never been comfortable in storms since."

"Did you dream you got hit by it?"

"Hit, set on fire." She rubbed her cheek against his legs. "Stay with me tonight?"

071. Broken

"We're back!" Bonnie called from the front door. Wasp zipped into the foyer and stopped, slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the snicker.

"Uh-oh," he said, eyes fixed on the bright green cast covering Rose's forearm. "It really did break then?"

"Clean through," Bonnie replied cheerfully.

"You're a dead pixie, Wasp."

"Oh no, you're not blaming this on me. You're the one that decided to chase me over the sofa with a flyswatter. You brought this on yourself."

"He's right," Bonnie said cheerfully, "you did. You knew he was a pixie when you let him in the house."

092. Christmas/Winter Holiday

"So what does everyone celebrate around here?" Rose asked. She had just changed the calendar over to the last month and her curiosity was piqued.

"Depends on who you ask. For instance, Bonnie does Christmas because she's still attached to her last family and they do. A lot end up doing all manner of winter holidays by a shit-ton of names."

"What about you?"

"Me? I usually do a Solstice dinner with some of the other fae in town. What about you?"

"Mom and I always did Christmas, but probably because that's what everyone else did. Also, I wanted presents."

083. And

"I'm not sure which costume I want for Halloween. Do I want Alice or Little Red Riding Hood?"

"And."

"What?"

"What's with the fucking 'or'? Get both."

"…I'm not spending that much money. Besides, you can dream me into anything and we'll have a lot more fun."

"Hell yeah. Wait, let me get a good look—"

"Quit memorizing her tits, Wasp."

"Heh. Well, think about this. If you get Alice, you'll have Hat up your skirt all night. Red will attract werewolves."