Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ranger had moved to a small cabin out in the middle of the woods because of a stupid, drunken idea he had with his little brother. The little wooden house came with leaks and cracks in the walls and uneven flooring. It’d ended up being the home he needed. The non-stop parties of his early 20s had sapped away most of his energy for people. Being alone most of the day gave him the space he needed to fix that. The only ones who were allowed to invade it were his dad and favorite sibling, and then only in case of an emergency. Everyone else could bother him when he was out and about in town. Bit by bit, he got better about being around folk, even got used to crowds again. Still, the circle of those who were allowed to come to his home stayed very small. 

Needless to say, having a space for entertaining guests has always been at the bottom of his list. That is, until he started getting serious with his boyfriend. It only made sense for Cerulean to move in once the extension on his rental’s lease expired. Sure, three months was sorta early, but they were old enough to spend less time dicking around when they knew what they wanted. Ranger actually really liked waking up to a face full of messy hair or draped across a toned chest or to the smell of something really fucking good on the stove. Judging based on the smile he usually got when he woke up, Cerulean felt just the same. 

What he hadn’t accounted for was Cerulean’s uncanny ability to make friends where ever he went and his enjoyment for having them visit. When they’d decided to move in together, his boyfriend had initially said, “I don’t mind not having my friends over as much. It’s just a silly impulse from my pop upbringing.” 

But it made Cerulean happy to have someone stop by. So, Ranger went to work. He found a good furniture guy and got back in contact with the contractor who’d help repair his cabin, and he asked his dads if they’d be willing to distract Cer for an afternoon. Everything fell into place perfectly. The furniture guy found the exact chairs and cushions he wanted, and the contractor said he could get the small addition done in a day if Ranger helped. Of course, his dads didn’t even need to hear the plan to agree, but knowing what he wanted to do just added to their enthusiasm. Sandy especially assured him they’d keep Cerulean there as long as he needed. 

In the end, it took until just before sunset. That was perfect. Ranger met Cerulean on the path, at the point just before the house became visible. He would never get tired of seeing how his boyfriend’s face lit up every time they saw each other. 

“Hi, darling,” Cer’s sweet voice sang. They met each other with a kiss. “This is a surprise. I thought I’d see you at home.” 

“Wanted ta come get you. It’s a nice afternoon.” Which wasn’t too much of a lie. The sun had turned the sky half golden, the other evident of night slowly creeping in. The weather, too, was just barley on the edge of “too damn cold” by Ranger’s sensibilities. He was happy to keep getting by in just a jacket, so long as he held Cer’s warm body close. Cerulean didn’t seem to have a single protest. They held onto each other as they walked down the path, Ranger hoping his boyfriend couldn’t heart how his heart was beating. 

“Well, your father asked if I’d help with the girls this afternoon, so I had to skip my afternoon routine. I was thinking I’d get dinner in the oven then do a quick make-up session. Did you have any plans?” 

Oh boy, did he. “I was sorta thinkin’ we could roast some hot dogs instead of you cookin’ tonight.” 

Cerulean frowned. “That sounds like a lovely idea, but we don’t have a fire pit.” 

Then they rounded the corner. Cer turned towards the house and gasped. His reaction made the past few hours of cementing bricks and burying posts and moving chairs absolutely worth it. Ranger squeezed his body closer. “We didn’t. Got one now.” 

“When did we get a porch?!” Cerulean called as he pulled away, running up to the space. He ran his hand along the outer rim of the small pit, already loaded up with a few logs, and looked around at the half a dozen chairs, some of which were set up around a small table under the new extension to the roof which provided cover from rain. “Oh, darling, it’s beautiful! And so much seating, I could...” He trailed off. Cerulean turned around, so much emotion in his eyes. “We could host a small gathering.” 

Ranger shrugged. “You like havin’ folk over. If you’re gonna do that here, you need a space for it.” He came close, picking up a pair of roasting forks from one chair. “Wieners are inside, and I got a pack a’ marshmallows, too. Figure we can roast them for dessert.” 

The ultimate reward in his book was granted as Cerulean flung himself into Ranger’s arms and kissed him deeply. He’ll do anything if it means making the love of his life this happy. 

Chapter Text

Topaz didn’t get usually sick. Her daddy makes sure of it by packing her lots of good snacks and making sure she was super active and even sending her to school in a mask sometimes during flu season. She’s always been so proud of how she’s never even gotten a sniffle before! Sure, it made it hard to relate to her friends when they got sick, but she drew them cards and asked how they were doing every day until she saw them again. 

She never once expected to wake up around three in the morning because her tummy hurt really, really bad. She cried out for her mommy or daddy for a couple of minutes, but by the time her mommy came in yawning, Topaz just couldn’t hold it in anymore. She’d probably never eat coconut shrimps or razzleberry freeze pops ever again. Mommy called for Daddy and they tried to clean up the mess and soothe Topaz together. She just couldn’t stop crying for ages. Her throat was stinging and her stomach still felt bad and her head was all swimmy, too. 

Needless to say, Topaz didn’t go to school that day. Her parents took her to the doctor that morning instead. He said she had the flu and would need a few days of bed rest, so no kindergarten for the rest of the week either. The first she was really glad ‘cause even sitting up made her head feel funny. Daddy came in every so often to check on her or bring her some medicine that was supposed to make her feel a lot better. The bottle might’ve said grape, but it sure didn’t taste like that. Still, she was a good girl, so she tried her best to get it down quick. Maybe the second dose came up with her lunch, but Daddy was so gentle about helping her clean up. He even brought her a bucket for the next time she felt sick. 

Days two and three were a lot more boring. Mommy and Daddy said she should still rest, even though she felt way better! Daddy brought her soup and some coloring books, but she didn’t want any of it! She just wanted to be with her friends. Did they even know what was going on? Daddy said he called the teacher to let her know, but what if she forgot to tell Boogie and Gabby and all the rest? They were supposed to be growing crystal ornaments and reading a story about giving gifts this week! Not to mention the unfinished game of house they’d been trying to get through during recess! And it’d just started snowing, so the other kids would probably be started snowball fights. She hated missing out almost as much as she hated being sick. 

She tried to work on the coloring books, but all the lines kept jumbling up and making her head hurt. Trying to shoot hoops with the mini hoop on her door had zapped away a lot of her energy, too, and reading was just as futile. So, Topaz mostly just slept until someone came to check in on her. 

She woke up to the tell-tale squeak of the door on her third day in bed. From the light coming in the window, she figured it was probably late afternoon, maybe around dinner time. It was a bit of a surprise when Mommy pulled back the curtain around her bed instead of Daddy with another bowl of soup. Mommy smiled at her and sat down on the bed. 

“Hello there, my little bug. How do you feel?” 

“Better, I guess. Can I go outside to play, please?” 

Mommy chuckled and leaned over to kiss Topaz’s forehead. She liked when Mommy did that, which wasn’t a lot ‘cause her mom was at work so much, but it always happened when she got called “little bug.” She thinks she’ll always liked getting call that. 

“You’ve still got a bit of a temperature, bug. I’m so sorry, but you can’t go out until it breaks. Your father tells me you’ve been able to keep everything down today, though. That’s some improvement. You should be just fine in another day or two. In the meantime-” Mommy reached down beside her, picking up a brown paper bag. Topaz sat up; she’d seen ones like this before, in Miss Shropshire’s class. Her mind was still a bit foggy, but it still raced with the possibilities of what could be in there. Maybe it was her favorite fruit or a brand new sportsball (she’s been wanting to try that game forever) or maybe her friends had shrunken themselves down and come to visit! “Your teacher sent the work you’ve been missing.” Oh. Topaz started to lay back down, until. “And some of your classmates wanted to pass along a few things too.” 

That got her upright again. Maybe her friends had made themselves really tiny after all. They could help with her homework! “Can I open it, Mommy?” 

“Of course, bug. Just let me help.” She pulled out obvious worksheets and set those on the bedside table. “That’s for later. And this-” An old jam jar came out next. Inside was a pile of dirt with dead leaves sitting on top. Topaz could see a worm crawling around in the dirt. Mommy wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Uh, your teacher said this is from your friend Maggie.” 

“Moog.” 

“Alright. It’s supposed to be an ‘outside jar’ so you don’t miss the outdoors.” Mommy set it down aside too. “Maybe once you’re better, we can keep it outside. Anywho, we’ve also got a couple of cards. Oh, and your friend Marsha sent me an email, I think? I wasn’t aware she had her own address, frankly.” 

Topaz grabbed each of the cards as they were pulled out. She grinned at the drawings and the extra stickers on Gabby’s card. “Can you read the email, Mommy?” 

Mommy pulled out her phone right away. “Of course, bug, give me just one secoonnnnddd- there it is. Ahem, Dear Classmate, I hope this email find you well, though I know you are not. Our game of house on the playground is suffering without our loyal canine. Please get well soon. All the best, Marsha Jones. Wow, what a formal little girl.” 

“Yup, that’s Marsha,” Topaz sighed, lying back against her plush pillows. She set the cards down with the jar. Though her tummy still felt a little ill, everything else was way better now. “You think if I sleep until next week, I’ll be well enough to go to school? I miss Boogie and Gabby and all our friends.” 

“That’s called a small coma, little bug. But I do think you should be just fine for it. Now, I was thinking I’d order supper tonight. How about those cabbage salads with the chicken and orange slices you like, hm? You think you could handle it?” 

It sounded like good, light food, just like Daddy keeps saying she should eat. Topaz nods, her head feeling oddly heavy all of the sudden. Despite how much rest she’s gotten this week, she finds herself barely able to keep her eyes open as Mommy shuts off the lights.

Chapter Text

Sherri Pop has always hated the fall. No, that’s not a strong enough word, they fucking despise it. Cold days that were still too warm for her fleece coats were the absolute bane of her existence. And then when it rained, the dead leaves got all mushy and gross and it was impossible to walk around. They also just didn’t understand the obsession everyone seemed to have with creepy shit like skeletons and bloody gore and all that around the big holiday of the fall. Why would anyone want to think about all of that? They would never judge someone for being interested, but it would never be their thing. Also, the fall girl fashion just was not for her. So much beige and brown and oversized sweaters, barf .  

No, Sherri much preferred the world after the first snowfall. That was when she could pull out her full wardrobe of fluffy coats and fur-lined boots and fleece leggings that allowed her to still wear her favorite itty-bitty skirts. Not to mention, these clothes hid a few extra pounds. One’s figure was always important, but it was perfectly normal if she wolfed down half a pie for dinner. They’d be able to lose it in the spring, anyway. The winter is the time for putting on a bit of extra pudge.  

Winter was a good time to be co-owner of a bistro, too. Sure, tourism, and consequently profits, might be down. However, the cold weather and early nightfall meant locals were more inclined to stop in at the Shine On Corner for a warm meal in a toasty dining room. Sherri even took it upon themself to hang tinsel from the ceiling and trim each window with baskets of holly, just to make it look extra cheerful. The entire staff insisted on helping her set up a tree next to the host stand. For the record, she loved how each of them added their own personal touch. It only made the place feel that much homier.  

During this time of year, there was absolutely nothing Sherri loved more than running refills for coffee and hot cocoa. It gave her the ultimate chance to see all her friends and customers, bellies warmed with good food and hearts full of merriment. Cheerful chatter between both the closest friends and complete strangers filled the restaurant even on the less-busy nights. The atmosphere was so nice that her co-owners, aka her older siblings, stopped in much more often than they ever did any other time of the year. As much as Sherri could handle management on her own, it was always such a treat to see them.  

The only thing that could top the feeling was the cheers was the first Friday night of the season. Shows happened decently often, yet the winter season always felt special. Half the performers would still be doing the final touches to their makeup or squeezing their cute little asses into their outfits by the time she grabbed the mic to announce the drag show would be starting soon. Cheers and one whistle sounded out across the room, as Sherri’s sister came up to the tiny backstage room. Concern was written in the wrinkles between her brows.  

“Sher, I thought you’re usually the host for these things. Shouldn’t you be in costume already?”  

Sherri turned around, and watched Shrew’s expression change into awe. Of course she’d look like that right now. Sherri hadn’t spent an hour carefully drawing and shading in icicles dripping down their cheeks and painting their nose carrot orange to not get a good reaction. She allowed Shrew to follow her back into the room where two other queens and a king were switching between their final touches and chugging energy drinks-slash-the free coffee like their lives depended on it. Sherri would make fun of them for it, but the red buck sitting nearly empty at her own station made her a hypocrite.  

“Honey, it’s a dress, not a costume. I’ve got it right here,” they said, pulling out her white fit from the rack. “If you’re so worried about me not being ready, how about you help Missus Frosty put this on?”  

Shrew stared for a moment at the creation in front of her. If they had to be honest, Sherri was quite happy with that. It’d taken an hour to build a hoop skirt that went out and in again, then days to sew layers and layers of white tule around it to create the white ball of their skirt. It’d been attached to a cinched waist then a puffed-out top with brown sleeves like sticks. Three black buttons big as saucers had been hand-stitched to the front strategically. The whole thing would be topped off with a hand-knit scarf and gloves, a towering white wig, and a clip-in little black top hat. For all their work, this was truly the first time Sherri was showing the fit off to a non-drag artist. And Shrew’s silence was starting to make them doubt their work. It must be ugly, had to be.  

Then, Shrew broke into a smile. “Oh my god, you’re a snowman. No, no, a snow queen!” She started laughing at her own joke. Both it and the shot of relief got Sherri cracking up, too. They didn’t stop even as their sister began to gush. “Fuck, your sewing, girl! I don’t even see the seams on this skirt, major kudos. Where the hell did you get these buttons? Bergen?”  

“Vacaytioners, actually. I’m so glad you like it, I know you don’t usually get my fashion.”  

“Sher, I love it. It’s absolutely gorgeous. And sure, I don’t really understand the kind of clothes you make, but your skill is still fucking gag-worthy.” Shrew faltered for a moment. “That’s a thing drag people say, right? I’ve been watching that drag competition show you love, but it’s still a little hard to grasp.”  

Her heart had already felt so warm from the good vibes in their little restaurant, but hoo boy, did she learn it could feel that much bigger. “Yes, you’ve got it, babe. Now, help me into this so I can gag everyone else.”  

Shrew nodded, taking the hanger from her hand. As Sherri dropped the robe hiding her corset and padding, she really couldn’t imagine how anyone would describe this as the coldest time of the year. With the way her heart glowed in her chest, it might as well have been summer.  

Chapter Text

Cerulean typically came back home after teaching his morning sessions. It was the perfect chance to pull something together for lunch, maybe take some to his boyfriend, and bring the mail in. Today, he comes home to a box on the doorstep. The label is only a bit scuffed, enough that he can’t read much of it, save for his own name and part of the return address. 

"Shelby, Hole ‘N Fun” told him exactly what this was- a care package from one of his closest friends. Cerulean smiled to himself and brought in right inside. He dialed her number as he began to look for a pair of scissors. She picked up on the third ring.  

“Lion! Hey, how are you, babes?”  

“Good, just got home and found your package.” He finally located a pair in the junk drawer. Cerulean moved back to the package, now holding his phone up with his shoulder as he cut the tape. “I don’t need to be scared about what’s in here, do I?”  

“Oh, you never have any faith in me. It’s just a little something I made for you and that man of yours. Now, I had to guesstimate his sizing, so it might be a bit too small. You’ll have to send me his measurements later, of course. I can’t work under these conditions, Lion, it’ll kill me.”   

Cerulean rolled his eyes. “Please, I have no doubt you got it perfect.”  

“Just tell me if you like them already!”  

He flipped the flaps and saw pink-spotted tissue paper. Just like his Shelby . “Shells, I haven’t even seen it yet! I literally called you as soon as I got inside.”  

“Oh my- now why would you call first? You know I love hearing the reaction!”  

“Maybe I wanted to hear from my best bitch? Rude as she is, you were my first true love.” He paused to sigh dramatically. “If only I weren’t gay.”  

“I know, I know, we’d be on our china anniversary by now. Shut up and look at what I sent. You have to tell me you love them.”  

Cerulean chuckled and peeled back the tissue paper. The sight that awaited him stole all the teasing and jokes away. It was a beautiful light blue, almost white, with glittery details stitched in. On the front was a beautiful green tree and colorful spots all over it. The only surprising part was its making.  

“I thought you were done with knitted clothing?”  

She huffed in a light-hearted way. “Now when did I ever say that?”  

Cerulean passed the phone to his other ear. He picked up the sweater so he could see it better, in the process revealing a second, blue sweater underneath the first. “I suppose you didn’t really. I only mean you’ve been making knitwear for nearly twenty years. Figured you were probably sick of them at this point.”  

“My mother is sick of it, but I love knitting. It’s the perfect portable activity for passing time!” Shelby took on a different tone. “Seriously, though, I am excited to be able to make something else. The only things besides sweater rompers I’ve made in my entire career were aprons for the hubby and embroidered handkerchiefs for the girlfriend, and then those pants you loved. I just want to explore what else I can do with knitting, y’know?”  

Cerulean laid the first sweater out. “I can see that. Shelby, this is beautiful, truly. I love it. And you picked out Ranger’s favorite color, did I tell you what it was or something?”  

She laughed on the other end of the line. “I made a guess. His future husband’s name is a shade of blue, after all.”  

“Shelby!” Cerulean felt himself flush. Even so, the idea of that really did appeal so much. He’d have to refrain from mentioning it to his boyfriend, they’d only been together for a few short months, it simply couldn’t be appropriate this early on. He didn’t even get to protest it further, as his best friend just laughed. He heard a door open and close in the background and the voice of Shelby’s sweet daughter called for her. Cerulean rolled his eyes, speaking louder into the mouthpiece, “Go tell Clementine I love her, I’ve got to make lunch. Talk to you later.”  

She gave her own farewell before he hung up. The phone went back up in his hair, freeing up his hands to pick up the other sweater. He immediately noticed that the yarn wasn’t itchy but not too soft either. Oh, Ranger would love this based off texture alone. He couldn’t wait to dress up in these together.  

Chapter Text

Her heritage was half Rock, half Classical. Yet, Scarlet has never set foot in Classical once in her twenty years of life. It just was never right. Her dad’s mobility aides didn’t really work on the mountains they made their home in, and Rock trolls in general weren’t exactly welcome there for a long time. After the World Tour, things were kind of different. A lot of Rock trolls were recruited by the queen to temporarily move there and help rebuild. It was the perfect chance to visit. Though, maybe she still didn’t want to show off her heritage quite yet. Classical probably wasn’t too cool with Rock still, being such a visible mixtape could spell trouble. To be safe, she packed sweaters to wear the whole time.  

The mountains themselves were majestic. Low clouds covered the valleys, making each peak seem like its own little island floating in an endless sea of pure white. And the towns atop various summits, oh how their buildings shined like precious metals and swirled up towards the heavens. They glittered, even in the night thanks to twinkling lights shining through windows. Scarlet spent a lot of the journey with her head hanging off the side of the jumbo flyer bug, just marveling at their incredible beauty.  

Her favorite sight of the journey though came when they had to land in some isolated town about halfway down a mountain to rest the critter. All the passengers were encouraged to explore the area. Their captain had even mentioned something special if you can get to the top with a wink. Scarlet watched after the Rock trolls went off to make some trouble and the Classical who’d been with them flew the opposite way, towards where the town’s orchestra was warming up. Her fingers itched to reach for the trusty violin in her bag, and her legs longed to run after those she’d always known to see what mischief could happen here. Neither option felt quite right, though. She instead looked towards the peak silently towering above.  

“Oh, I’m gonna fuckin’ climb that shit,” Scarlet whispered to herself. She started out on the main street leading up through the center of town. Most trolls had left their posts to join the band, though a few stores were still open. It only meant she had less of an audience to see her follow the signposts up. Scarlet did stop at the last store she saw, to stock up on water and snacks. The store owner offered to sell her a map of the area when she tried to confirm the path.  

“No, I think I’ll be fine. It’s just like up, right? Thank you, though!”  

The owner paused to look over her glasses at Scarlet. “For us, yes, just straight up. Yourself will have other issues. We don’t need the stairs, so they probably are not clear.”  

Scarlet was confused for just a second. Then, her sweater gave an uncomfortable reminder, stopping her from fluttering them. Right. Here, she was just Rock. Scarlet sighed, averting her eyes to the cooler display right next to the register. A purple drink she’d never seen before caught her eye. She picked up a bottle, reading chicha morada on the label. “What’s this?”  

“That is a very popular local drink, made from purple corn, pineapple skins, and spices. Probably not very good for one like yours.”  

A silence stretched between them for several seconds. Scarlet stared the store owner in the eye as she placed the bottle with the rest of her items. She left the store with a bag of snacks and new determination in her heart. She was gonna climb this mountain and enjoy this odd purple drink as soon as she got to the top. The sun was already setting, but she could handle a bit of darkness.  

Scarlet got about twenty inches up before she had to take a break. Apparently, by “not clear”, that troll had meant “these steps are made for creatures twice our size and are actually massive. She’d had to take running leaps or use her hair on nearby branches to get up even a few. A break was absolutely needed to catch her breath. No way was she gonna make it up on her feet.   

Good thing there was another option for her. Scarlet made sure nobody at all was around before she took off her sweater. Just the ability to stretch her wings again was enough to pull a pleased moan from her mouth. The cold night air sent a chill down her spine, though it wasn’t quite as bad as she’d expected for the late winter month. From there, she turned her attention upwards. The locals would just fly up, right? It couldn’t be that hard. Sure, she’d never flown that far or high before, really just short bursts at most. Nothing could be more difficult than the stairs, though. At least she could reach where the staircase twirled back around to her side of the peak.  

Scarlet tied the sweater around her waist and flapped her wings. They carried her up, up, just barely shy of her goal before failing. Scarlet was able to grab onto the ledge with her hair and haul herself up to sit on it.   

Ugh, curse her dumb poor stamina. She took a few minutes to recoup herself, drink some water, and reassess. Reaching the next curve around was too much. Scarlet looked up behind her at the stairs going towards the summit. Maybe flying the whole way wouldn’t work, nor would climbing. But who ever said she had to pick just one of those? She could get up a few steps, catch her breath, then keep going.  

And so, she did. The mountain became a breeze from there. Scarlet barely even felt tired, just satisfied at how easily progress came now. It was another few hours before she got all the way up. But when she saw a sign marking the top, Scarlet couldn’t help cheering. She fucking climbed it. The town looked so small from all the way up here. She threw her sweater back on, as well as a heavy coat to combat the cold as she sat down on the highest step.  

She’d just barely pulled the purple drink from her bag when something strange blossomed across the sky. Colors, shifting and moving against each other in slow, repetitious patterns. Greens and blues and purples took over the sky in great ribbons of ethereal light. It was more than enough to steal the breath from her lungs.   

Something special , the captain had said. He sure was right; nothing else on the entire planet could be anything like these. Scarlet was frozen staring at them for a while. Almost unconsciously, she twisted the lid off the chicha bottle and took a sip. It was fucking delicious.     

Chapter Text

Verm didn’t get the chance to visit Cerulean often, but when she did, they were attached at the hip. They walked in sync with their arms locked together and communicated with little more than looks and made literally everything into two-troll jobs.  

Ranger thought it was fuckin’ bizarre. He had four brothers close in age, one of them just a couple months younger, and none of them were as close as the twins. These two were beyond ride-or-die; if one of them found the other dead, the surviving twin probably wouldn’t last two minutes. They literally never fought. At least, as far as Ranger had ever seen.  

Until he came home to find them pointing bags of frosting at each other like they were guns. Ranger didn’t even walk into the cabin, just opened the door. Even then, he could see white, green, and red frosting splattered all over the tiny kitchenette, up to and including the ceiling. Neither of the twins were spared from that fate. Verm’s hair, typically tied up in a bun, was half loose and clumped together. The entire front of Cer’s shirt (which was actually one of Ranger’s that he’d stolen and tied off) was smothered. Gumdrops and colored chocolate chips were also scattered all across the floor. In the middle of everything was a fold-out table they’d set up with a blank gingerbread house on it.  

The twins turned in unison when the door opened. He stared at the mess, and they stared at him. For just a minute. Then, it was gloves off. Both Cerulean and Verm were shouting in unison and waving their bags around. He couldn’t even make out what they were saying. For a second, Ranger debated turning his ass right around. But. Fuck, he was really curious what the hell happened to his house. To do that, though, he’d need to get them to shut the hell up.  

Ranger held up his hands as he took a step in. “Alright, alright, quiet!” The perk to have a deep voice that could get loud was folk tended to listen to it, like the twins right now as they went silent. “One at a time, what the fuck are y’all doin’?”  

Cer opened his mouth, but Verm beat him to the punch. “We’re decorating this damn thing, and I’m so glad you’ve come. You know, I always liked you, Ranger.”  

“Bitch, you literally said he looks like a hobo an hour ago, shut the fuck up.” Cer turned to Ranger and batted those pretty little eyelashes. “My darling, can you tell us which of our ideas is better? I do value your opinion so very much, you know.”  

“O-kaaaayyyy,” he said, very much starting to regret not leaving when he had the chance. “What’s the ideas?”  

Cer put his hand around Ranger’s elbow and tried to press himself up against his boyfriend. "Well, my darling love, I was thinking it’d be just adorable to make a snowy getaway! We cover the roof in white and add coconut flakes to simulate snow, then the gumdrops and chocolates can be used to make festive lights around the edges! Wouldn’t it be just lovely?”  

“Alright. Verm?”  

The other twin held up a finger She took the rest of her hair out of the bun, then put it back up into a ponytail. It’d look more sophisticated if her orange locks weren’t streaked with green. “I was wanting a more traditional approach. The gumdrops can be cut in half to create round shingles and we use the chocolates to make a path up to the door.” Verm cleared her throat. “I want to also note that I know we have our differences, but I do appreciate how happy you make my brother. And you do not look like a hobo.”  

He nodded to the last part for Verm and pulled his arm away from his boyfriend’s grasp. Ranger did his best to picture both ideas in his mind’s eye, pointedly ignoring how Cerulean’s attempt at bedroom eyes and Verm stared at him.  

The choice really didn’t take that long. But, shit, he couldn’t say it. Ranger looked back and forth between the twins. “Y’all will respect me no matter what I pick?”  

“Of course, love.”  

“Sure.”  

With that, he just blurted it out, “Verm’s got the better idea. Sorry, babe.”  

The victorious twin smiled- damn, he musta really made her happy, she’s never smiled at him before- and shook his hand. “Mr. Conch, you have my blessing.”  

Well, Ranger wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but it made Cerulean glare at her. Speakin’ of, his boyfriend looked real damn miffed for a bit, long enough to start worrying Ranger. Then he sighed. “Alright, then, I’ll honor it. At least it’ll only last until we eat it.” He went back towards the gingerbread house and picked up the bag of gumdrops. “Darling, will you be staying for that?”  

“Naw, gingerbread is fuckin’ gross.”  

He backed out as the twins gave him the exact same horrified looks and started to raise their voices again. This time, they were in agreement on how could he say that . Good. Better for them to be chummy.  

Chapter Text

Bat was a Rock troll, through and through. It was almost all he listened to, even if his voice wasn’t nearly as good as any of the dudes in his DVD collection. He grew up on the edge of a volcano like nearly everyone else in his genre and loves the heat as much as anyone else. The rest of the world felt so cold in comparison once Bat started venturing a bit further away. Yet, in a weird way, he kind of loved it? The shivers and frozen digits weren’t too nice, sure, but he could learn to handle it.  

Of all the seasons, winter had grown on him the most, but only outside of Rock territory. The volcano made winter months barely colder than late fall and chased away the mere idea of snow. The first storm he really remembered came within his first week away from the home he’d always known.  

It’d been when he was freshly 19, barely done with trade school and finally escaping out from under his parent’s thumb. Mom passed him a gun and a concealed carry permit; Dad lectured him on how dangerous it could be out there. Their best gifts had been a fleece-lined hoodie and advice to venture south for better weather. The second Bat was on the road, he turned due north. Crossing out of the territory was a simple job, though the conditions turned bad faster than he’d anticipated. Ice covered the road so fast after the storm began to fall. He had to pull over pretty fast. Thankfully, it was into the parking lot of a roadside inn, so he wouldn’t have to spend the night freezing his ass off in the backseat.  

Bat did sit in his car for a while after parking, though. Big, fat flakes of snow fell in great sheets, turning the entire landscape and the tall tufts of dead grass into a sparkling white blanket. It stole his breath away. This was something he could easily see himself falling in love with. He remembered seeing it only once before, when he was super little and the volcano had gone dormant for a few years, leading to cool enough temperatures for a small flurry to hit. The blackened earth he’d always known had looked so perfect under a layer of snow. Bat remembered begging his father to let him out for some quality play time, until the old man had gotten properly sick of hearing it. Dad had picked him up by his overalls, opened the door, and tossed him into a deep snowbank. The way Dad always told it, Bat had popped right out with clattering teeth, asking to come back inside right away.  

He’d always believed that to be the whole truth. Yet, looking at the same phenomenon with adult eyes, Bat couldn’t understand how he didn’t beg to stay out for longer. The sight alone was incomparable to anything else he’d ever known. As the snowdrift built up higher and higher, it began to shimmer Bat watched as it piled up higher and higher, until someone knocked on the passenger side window.  

His hand flew to where the gun was hidden in his middle console as he whipped around. The stranger at his window had a forehead with more lines than a sheet of paper and a badge around their neck. He couldn’t quite make out the name on it, but the same name as was on the flittering neon sign above his car. Bat let out a breath, pulling his hand away.  

He just cracked the window open just a bit and shivers at the cold drifting in.  

“Hey kid, you alright? You’ve been out here a while.” The troll sighed when Bat nodded. “Well, ya gonna come inside? We only got one room left.”  

Bat looked out the window at the beautiful snow. He was kinda tempted to say no, just to be able to take in this sight for a while longer.  

“The snow’ll be there tomorruh. ‘Sides, temperature’s gonna drop tonight. Can’t have y’all freezin’ out in the parking lot.”  

Well. He couldn’t argue with that. Bat grabbed his bag out of the back seat and hopped out. Upon his feet touching the snow, a shiver immediately shot through his spine. Shit, this was way fuckin’ colder than he’d thought. The worker laughed behind him as Bat rushed ahead of them towards the main office.  

Chapter Text

Unlike her siblings, Arizona wasn’t part Pop. She wasn’t a fan of toe-tapping tunes or neon leopard print or hammer time like Marina or Nori or their daddy were. Heck, plenty of arguments had been started with Arizona saying a dance move was lame and her siblings getting all up in arms because it was what they felt compelled to do based of the beat of their hearts.  

The one thing they could always agree on was monsters. Their uncle Mate would stop by every few months, always with a new story about a giant squid or serpent he’d fought off single-handedly which left the children utterly entranced. Marina was the least interested, though she always watched with sparkling eyes when anything about ghost ships or sea witches came up. However, Arizona could always count on Nori to be right by her side every time. He was the one who ran outside with her to play after Uncle Mate had to go back to his pirate ship. They would dart between the tall bushes and grasses around the beach they lived on, taking turns pretending to be a monster hunting the other to gobble them up. Nori was really good at it, especially when it was just the two of them (and maybe one of their daddies), but they both agreed that Arizona was the perfect monster. The horns she had instead of ears and paws in place of usual troll legs made their game so much more realistic!  

Marina didn’t like to chase as much, but she was by far the best seeker out of the three. She was the one who always figured out where Daddy Cer hid the candy that their Uncle Citrus sent for them.   

“Guys, guys!” she’d say as she stormed into the older kids’s bedroom, her pigtails all messy and a wide smile stretching her cheeks. The older two knew exactly what that meant. Especially since they’d all seen Daddy open the box of holiday goodies just a few days ago.  

Arizona and Nori gathered around to see what she’d been able to hide in the little pocket on the front of her dress. Gasps went all around as she revealed her treasures- one and a half pink-and-purple candy canes and a whole strip of red-and-green ribbon candy.   

“Wooooaaahhhh,” Nori whispered quietly, “They almost look too pretty to eat. Good job, Marina.”  

Their baby sister beamed. Though it dropped when Arizona put her hands over them. “Hey! What are you doing?”  

“Shhhhhh! These are gonna be all crunchy. We can’t eat them inside.”  

Marina could barely control her volume. “Why can’t we just suck on them?”  

“Because one of our daddies might see and ask what’s in our mouths, and then we’ll be busted. C’mon, let’s go eat it outside.” Arizona made her put the candy away again before leading her two siblings out of the room and down the stairs. When they were approaching the door, she saw Daddy Cer pulling out their winter jackets and scarves. Perfect timing to ask, “Daddy, can we go out and play?”  

Daddy was none-the-wiser as he nodded. “That’s alright, my love. Just wear your coats and remember not to stay out too long. It’ll be dark soon, and it gets much colder out after dark.”  

They dutifully took the time to put their arms through the jacket sleeves and zip them up and let Daddy wrap their scarves securely around their necks. Heck, the girls even stood by as he brought out a brand-new hat Nori had gotten from their Aunt Shelby. As soon as Daddy said they were ready, though, they booked it out the front door. Arizona reached back to hold Nori’s hand, and when she looked back, she saw he was holding Marina’s hand, too.   

She pulled them to duck behind the first bush they saw. As Marina had a brief moment of struggle with her jacket zipper, Arizona noticed her breath came out in a visible cloud. It drew her attention away for a second. Another experimental blow into the cool air proving just as visible made her giggle, which got a look from her brother.  

“Look, Nori, I’m a dragon!” she exclaimed. Another haaaaa pulled a snicker from him as well.  

“Got it!”  

Marina brought back out the candy. She was careful to divide it in three fair parts for all of them. Arizona put the ribbon in her mouth right away, savoring the crunch in her bite. Sweet peppermint flooded onto her tongue. This would probably be her favorite flavor forever. She chewed for as long as she could, then stuck her part of the candy cane in her mouth.   

The two other trolls in front of her weren’t really affected so soon by the sugar ‘cause they were part Pop. Arizona on the other hand felt like if she didn’t run around in two minutes, she’d explode. Another breath out made her think about dragons again, then she got an- amazing, no, fantastic, no, both of those at once- idea!  

“Hey, hey, hey! What if we play like I’m a dragon and I chase you guys around?”  

She didn’t give the other two a chance to respond before she put her arms up and did her best roar. They ran away shrieking, though Arizona could see that Nori was grinning. She tried her best to give them a head start before putting up her hands like claws and running after.

Chapter Text

Most of the time, the group’s fearless leader was her strong, independent self. Yet, three times a year showed a different side of Teressa. She got quiet, watchful over them, easily spooked. Nobody knew exactly what the matter was. All she ever told them when asked was “I’m just missin’ someone is all.” The common theory was someone she’d once loved had died. They weren’t sure which was which, but they guessed the first two downer periods were birthday and the day she lost them. Everyone knew what the third was. They all celebrated the holidays, after all.  

Cheering Teressa up was beyond all of them. Aster called family meeting after family meeting to brainstorm ideas. Coming home to the smell of fresh-baked holiday cookies only seemed to worsen Teressa’s mood, as did taking her to a winter market or lighting the candles on Stewart’s trollorah.   

Of them all, the only one who never really seemed to mind it was Scarlet. She could be found hovering around Teressa’s head any day of the season. It was her who brought their matriarch holiday cookies or got her to go to the market in the first place. Even at age thirteen, Teressa tolerated it just the same as she had when the youngest of their clan was three. Nobody could explain how Scarlet managed to get it done, but they’d long since learned to keep their questions to themselves.  

It was easier said than done when Stewart and Aster came home to see Teressa helping their daughter pin up tinsel around every door and window. From the lights trimming the perimeter of the room and the fresh-smelling wreath hung so prettily on the door, they could assume the duo been at this a while. Holiday jazz playing on the radio mingled with the smell of snickerdoodles to really set the mood.  

Scarlet looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Oh, hey Dad, hey Pops. Whatcha think, isn’t it great?”  

“It’s wonderful, Scar. Looks like Gift-mas in here,” Aster said. He took Stewart’s bag off the back of his wheelchair, exchanging a look of bewilderment between them. As the troll hung their things up in the closet, Stewart rolled forward. There was his trollorah set up on the windowsill where anyone walking by would be able to appreciate the candles’ warm glow. It occurred to him looking around that even the cans and bottle and cartons of cigarettes often strewn around the room had been cleaned up. A sudden buzz rang out from the kitchen. Scarlet dropped down to the ground in an instant.  

“Oop, cookies are done! We’re baking off all those cutouts next, right Nana?”  

Teressa ruffled Scar’s hair. An easy smile sat on her face. “Exactly, girl, good memory.”  

The teenager beamed, running out of the room. Aster popped his head back out of the closet to ask the question on both of their minds, “How’d she convince you to do this?”  

Their mom didn’t even look over. “It was my idea. Aster, can you grab the stepladder and c’mere? I need someone to pin the top part. And Stew, if you’ll go keep an eye on your daughter, you know she’ll try to eat those cookies fresh out the oven and burn the shit out of her tongue.”  

“No I won’t!” came a muffled cry.  

“Girl,” Teressa said back, not even that loudly, but it resulted in a loud huff regardless. Neither boy moved. Finally, their mother sighed and turned around with a glare. She softened just slightly at the surprise on their faces. “Yes, I know it’s bizarre for all this to be my idea. No, I’m not sick or any shit like that. Yes, I’m serious, I had blood work done a few weeks ago, no tumor in my skull or nothin’. And no, I can’t just get Nikki or Bliss’s tall asses to help, they went to Vibe City for that Day of Goodwill thing. Any other questions?”  

The boys shared another look. It was honestly so rare that they could practically see the thoughts in each other’s expressions. It was Stewart who ultimately asked, “Why?”  

Teressa looked down. Neither of them had ever seen that kind of sorrow in her face before. She looked at the floorboards like the right answer was written somewhere in the grain. For a few minutes, the silence in the room was only cut through by soft jazz. Then, Teressa sighed.  

“Because you kids deserve a better holiday than I ever had growing up, and I’ve been neglectin’ giving you that. I’m sorry.”  

That was all they needed to hear. Aster grabbed the stepladder, Stewart maneuvered his chair towards the kitchen door, and all their hearts felt a little bit lighter.  

Chapter Text

Barely anyone had ever noticed that Ranger is not a full-blooded Rock troll in his thirty-four years of life. It’s not even like his Country heritage passed on so few traits. He’s got a subtle accent and an incredibly short fuse for horseshit and hooves instead of feet. It’s all been a part of him his entire life. But nobody really seems to realize it on their own. Ranger doesn’t exactly care, but it’s always a shock to him when a troll he sees all the time acts like it’s their first time realizing he’s like that.  

Probably the rubber boots he wears every day are the cause. Look, the story behind them ain’t really important. It was just a 15 th birthday gift from his dad that he ended up loving with all of his heart. The insides were just okay in his book, but the lack of clop clop clop noises on wood or tile or whatever made them more than worth it. Plus, he didn’t have to clean sand and mud out of the grooves of his hooves as often. Sure, trimmings got more common since he ain’t wearing them down as fast, but he’d suffer a few minutes bringin’ ‘em down to size compared to all that fucking noise.  

The only downside to his boots is. Well. Winter. See, most of the year, he’s totally fine stompin’ around in those beautiful, perfect things. And his home on the beach typically doesn’t get more than an inch or two of snow. It just gets chilly and rains for a few days every couple of weeks, no big deal. The problem is mother fucking ice.   

Not always but sometimes, the water gets frozen into this great sheet across the ground at night. For most trolls, this ain’t no problem at all. They just walk a little more carefully in their morning routines or wait to go out until after it all melts. Ranger is a fisherman. He makes himself get up at 4:30 every single damn morning to secure the best spot for his work, where the fish bite often and have plenty of tasty meat on their bones. He ain’t got the luxury to wait for it to melt. And his boots do not have the grip to get across the ice just fine. Poor balance plus no-grip boots equals eating a lot of shit on his morning walk.  

It’s only embarrassing when he’s around folk, which he usually ain’t. Who else in their right fucking mind would want to be out the door by 5?  

Turns out the answer is his older brother, Grackle. Okay, so they went out drinking together and maybe had five too many beers a piece. Ranger didn’t feel safe letting his big bro walk home alone, so he just slung the man over his shoulder and took him back to his cabin. Since it was just the two of them that night, Grackle got the bed. Ranger could make do on the floor with a pillow and one of the ten million throw blankets his boyfriend had piled on their bed since the nights started getting chilly.  

Both their heads were screaming when they woke up to Ranger’s alarm that next morning. Grackle sat up, groaned, and then went to get out of bed. He probably meant to go spew in the toilet or find something greasy to eat. Instead, one foot got tangled in the blanket on the bed and the other landed right on Ranger’s ear. They both swore loudly as the elder landed in a heap on top of his brother. Ranger pushed him off, and the pressure right on his stomach emptied the remnants of their fun night all over the blanket.  

Not the best way to start a morning! Ranger ended up taking a very long shower while his brother dry heaved over the toilet. The blanket didn’t even go to the washing machine, just immediately went into the fire pit. His boyfriend would understand. While it burned, Grackle suggested finding an all-night diner for breakfast. Ranger could only agree.  

He pulled on his boots and stepped off the deck. Funny thing, though. He forgot about the ice.  

Ranger took one step and his foot immediately went forwards. His back hit the ground hard. Ranger rolled to his side groaning. The only thing he could hear was his brother pissing him laughing.   

“Holy fucking shit, way to walk!”  

He sat up rubbing at the biggest sore spot on his back. Ranger gave a mighty glare. “At least I didn’t eat shit gettin’ out of bed.”  

Grackle winded down into a snicker. He shrugged. “Eh, that’s fair. C’mon, Sir Trips-A-Lot, I’ve got a fever and the only cure is a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich.”  

He started walking off down the path. Well, more like a penguin waddle on the ice. At least he wasn’t slipping again. Ranger watched after him for a minute. The morning might’ve been pretty mundane, but he couldn’t remember the last time they’d woken up in the same house and just enjoyed each other’s company like this. There’d been so many when they were kids, yet it’d all ended so abruptly when they became adults. He’d never appreciated it before.  

Well. At least he could appreciate this one. Ranger got up and went after his brother. He waddled just the same, trying his best not to slip again on the way to breakfast.  

Chapter Text

When she’d decided to go to Symphonyville, it'd been quietly understood by everyone in Scarlet’s life that she might never come back. She remembers picking up a viola for the first time and realizing it was everything she’d ever wanted. Its sweet music had made her wings flutter and heart soar higher than she’d ever thought she could. Going somewhere where she could be surrounded with just that meant she could find the place where she really did belong. Before she stepped onto the bus, Scarlet was figuring out how to move her stuff there.  

That's why leaving was so hard. Sure, some of her habits like refusing hugs and using her music as an outlet were easily accepted here. But her typical volume and tendency for grunge clothes weren’t so welcome, especially in a place that’d recently been ravaged by trolls who looked like her. It wasn’t much better than Volcano Rock City, honestly. So, just a few weeks after her arrival, she walked away. Literally. Scarlet, in her dreams for the future, had neglected to buy a return ticket. No worries, though. It was a great opportunity to practice the art of hitchhiking!  

Though, it seemed like most trolls weren’t really taking their cars or critters out this time of year. Scarlet doesn’t blame them, of course. She’s never claimed to be smart, but trying to make her way down winding mountain roads probably would’ve been just as tricky for anyone. Especially in winter when avalanches sometimes made roads impassable. The local trolls would just turn around and go find somewhere else until they could be cleared, but Scarlet had to make it back home. She got out at each road block and flew over it as best as she could. Each flight sapped so much energy from her, sometimes even before she could get past.  

Her latest ride had turned around right away, leaving the girl all on her own. She felt a cold wind chill her down to the bone- definitely too fast for her shitty wings to safely fly through. Oh well, she could probably climb over the pile.  

As she learned, much easier said than done. With every step, her feet sunk deep into the fluffy snow, and Scarlet had to dig herself to the next step with her hands. Her feet and hands and neck and nose all felt like they were gonna freeze off by the time she got to the top. Still, Scarlet heaved herself as far as she could go before flopping onto her back for a break. She closed her eyes against the bright sun. Just a few minutes to wait, and then you can go on ahead home. It’ll be fine.  

The plan changed with a “Hello?”  

Scarlet opened her eyes to find a troll looking down at her. Based on first looks, they clearly weren’t Techno or Funk. No wings or hooves either, so they had to be either Rock or Pop. Their black lipstick marked them as probably Rock. But that didn’t make much sense, all the Rock trolls who’d come up here had been on the bus with her. None of them had even looked her age like this one. What was one doing all the way out here by themself?  

The troll tilted their head at her just staring. “Are you alright?”  

“Oh, yeah. Just taking a breather!” Scarlet said. She pulled herself to her feet and dusted the snow off her backside as best as she could, even though it only further froze her hands. “I’m Scar. What’s your name?”  

“December. You kinda look like you’re freezing, Scar.” They offered a hand. “How about you come down to Lone Hollow and we’ll get you warmed up? My hot cocoa is the best in the Indie Mountains!”  

Getting out of the cold sounded really nice, and the town’s name sounded like some sort of metal or emo thing, totally up her alley. However, the shivering in her legs gave her pause. “Sorry, but I don’t know if I can walk all the way down.”  

December snorted. “Please, no way are we walking!” They picked up their feet. Long, flat pieces of wood were attached to either shoe. They also had two metal sticks strapped to their hands she'd assumed to be crutches, but on second look they weren’t really like her dad’s at all. “C’mon, hop on my skis! I bet you a twenty I can get us down there in ten minutes flat!”  

She hesitated another second. It wasn’t like she had much other choice, though. Scarlet set her feet behind December’s on the skis. The other troll’s hands grabbed hers and wrapped them around their waist.   

“Don’t be shy, hold on tight! And try to follow my moves so we don’t lose too much time.”  

Scarlet only got a moment to consider whether this was actually a good idea before they started sliding down. And down. And down, and faster and faster. Wind whipped at her face and hair the more speed they picked up. December crouched, and Scarlet tried her best to mimic them. They hit a patch of trees towering above them, but December didn’t slow down for a second. They weaved past the enormous trunks like it was second nature. Adrenaline pumped warmth through Scarlet’s veins. She couldn’t hold in a whoop when they hit a small bump and went flying for a second.  

As they emerged from the trees, a gathering of a few dozen houses revealed itself. Scarlet marveled at the little town with colorful lights around the outline of every home. Even from here, she could see trolls walking around in well-worn footpaths cleared of snow. It was like a picture in a storybook, one she was just about to enter.  

December skidded to a stop just outside of the town. They let Scarlet hop off before pulling their helmet off. A shock of deep green hair popped up like a full pine tree, with colorful beads braided in- like ornaments on a tree, Scarlet realized with a grin- and December sighed.  

“Oh, that feels so good. Helmets are good for safety, but man, did my hair need the space to breathe!” They ruffled their hair a bit with one hand, then looked at Scarlet. She flushed as she realized she’d been staring, again. “Ready for that cocoa?”  

“Totally! I like your hair, by the way.”  

December grinned. They grabbed a red bead near their ear to play with. “Thanks. I did it up for the season, actually. It’s like my favorite time of year.”  

“Oh dude, mine too! It always makes me think of how my dads and nana and me used to decorate the house every year on the 13 th . It always turned out so pretty, I could’ve died.”  

“We love that sort of thing around here! My moms used to hang holly from every doorway in the house and put bouquets of mistletoe on the windowsills because they always confused them.”  

The pair of them kept chatting all the way into a house. December got them each a huge, steaming mug full of sweet goodness. Then, they got out a guitar and started strumming a tune. Scarlet was so tired from her day and so comfortable in the warm home that she nearly fell asleep before finishing her cup. Almost.   

Chapter Text

Life has changed a lot since Robin met Bat. He didn’t even know he wanted someone like Bat in his life, but then he walked into a mechanic after a heist gone wrong and found this funny, kind, handsome guy. And thus started the most incredible friendship Robin has ever been blessed with. Okay, sometimes he feels like more’s there, but no way Bat feels like that. He could probably get anyone he wanted. Or maybe he’s not like that, he’s certainly never dated anyone since they met. Oh well. Maybe someday, Robin would fall for someone he clicks with like he does with Bat.  

In the meantime, they were practically glued to each other’s sides. On the job, every spare second, Robin even secured Bat a spot at his side gig. They spent more nights sleeping at each other’s apartments than either did alone. Neither of them held any secrets back, everything was out in the open (well, not that, but he couldn’t just say it). It just felt right to stay within reach of his best friend.   

So of course he knew when Bat had a shit day. His beloved car got a broken wheel bearing on the way to work that morning, which was a couple hundred just for the part, and then the food he’d brought for his meal break was accidentally left out on the counter by their coworker, not to mention the wine bar was flooded all night by the worst customers they’d seen in ages. Something about the holiday season got the most horrid guests to creep out of their holes and demand the most from their servers. Poor Bat got stuck with an awful section that barely tipped, too. More than once, Robin noticed his best friend storming into the walk-in with a red face.   

They took the bus together back to Bat’s place after work. Just after they got off, Robin looked up at the corner store and got an idea.  

“You go ahead, Bats, I wanna grab some lotion. My hands feel so dry. You want anything?”  

“A 40 so I can forget this day ever happened?” Bat bumped their heads together gently. “Take your time, call me if trouble shows up, okay?”  

Like always, Robin patted his shoulder before heading off. He did not make a beeline for the lotion, though. Instead, he went to the freezer. Just his better luck that there was one left of exactly what he wanted. Robin grabbed that and some beer as requested. It could only make the night he had planned better, after all. A second thought on his way to the register got him to grab an extra bag of chips.  

His little shopping trip really didn’t put him that far behind; Robin caught up just as Bat was unlocking the door. Bat eyed the paper bag.  

“That’s a little too big for just lotion.”  

The door swung open, and Bat let Robin go in first like always. He playfully stuck his nose up as he went by. “Maybe I remembered you keep a bottle on your bedside table.”  

“Wait, then what did you get?” Bat questioned as he came inside. Robin didn’t answer, just went straight to the kitchen. He knew exactly which drawer to find two spoons in. He left the bag on the counter. The only parts that came back with him to the living room were his lucky purchase and the impulse buy  

Bat’s eyes sparkled when he walked out of the kitchen with a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream and a bag of firey hot chips. That made this tiny effort entirely worth it. Robin motioned at the television with an old game station hooked up. “You’ve been meaning to get through more of that cozy game with the bugs that look like food, right? How about we demolish these and I watch you play?”  

His best friend just looked at him for a moment. Oh gosh, Bat’s eyes are always so full of unidentifiable emotion. He just knew when his best friend looked at him like that, he’d done something right. Sometimes, Robin felt like Bat was the only troll in the world who ever looked at him like that. He wished he could fall in love with someone who did.  

“You have no idea how much I love you, angel,” finally came the words from his bestie. Robin grinned, jumping over the back of the couch to take a seat.  

“I love you too, Bats. Now come play!”  

The rest of their night really wasn’t that notable. Except, Robin watched every bit of tension melt away from Bat’s body. He hoped he could keep giving that to his friend for years to come.  

Chapter Text

Vermillion Bloom is not a chef. She was never quite interested in that part of her mother’s teachings, to be utterly frank, that was always Cerulean’s interest. No, Verm liked learning about medicine, and it was rare that the two had any cross-over in Mother’s lessons.  

Save for during the cold season. It was terribly easy for trolls to catch an illness when the cold made one’s nose stuffy and kept them inside around others who might have a cold. The office was always flooded by new cases of the sniffles and nasty coughs. Typically, they weren’t seriously enough to prescribe any more than bed rest, plenty of fluids, maybe a spoon of honey to soothe their symptoms just a bit. She did take careful note of each troll, though. Their names all ended up on the same list.   

Every Friday of the winter, she broke out the same pot. It was a truly massive thing, but every year it felt just barely big enough for her plans. No matter. Verm found incredible peace in chopping and seasoning and simmering. Her entire house filled with the most delectable scent. She spent half the afternoon singing and dancing around alone to cozy songs. But, Verm was careful enough to not get carried away. No, she could do that when she didn’t have a massive pot of soup to throw on a cart.  

Verm dragged it all around the course to every single sick patient she knew of. All of them took one look at her before running for a bowl or mug or whatever they had really. Those who were unfortunate enough to habitually get sick in the winter knew to sit on the porches with their bowls.  

Her final stop of the day was the home next to hers. The four inhabitants were already standing on the porch, though not a one of them had so much as a sniffle.  

“There’s the good doctor Verm,” Shelby said in the same tone every time, with the same easy smile on her face, “So, what are we in for today?”  

Vermillion pulled the lid off the well-cooled pot. She’d measured out everything perfectly this time; only a puddle of soup remained on the bottom, enough for at least five bowls. “Onions, mushroom, garlic and ginger-”  

“Of course,” interrupted Key Lime. Verm felt the corner of her mouth quirk up a bit. Had she even needed to mention her favorite staples for soup? Her friends probably could’ve guessed those were all included without so much as a drop.  

“Also bay, rosemary, thyme, and bok-choy.”  

Citrus laughed. “Uh, bok-choy, like the mustard greens lookalike?”  

Oh, her eyes must be lighting up. There was little she loved more than explaining a new ingredient in these medicinal soups. “Yes, that exactly! It’s a type of cabbage, and it’s loaded to the brim with all sorts of vitamins and minerals and antioxidants. The fiber content alone would’ve convinced me to include it, but the calcium and potassium made it a guarantee! Plus, it’s absolutely delicious.”   

Little Clementine got on her toes to try to look in the pot. “Can I have a taste, Auntie V?”  

“Wait until it’s dished out, honey.” Her mother reached in with a bowl and scooped out some. She passed out five bowls to each troll in turn. Verm watched each of them sniff the bowl, then break out into smiles. Any sniffles in the room disappeared as they began to nosh down. She looked into her own bowl. The golden broth looked just like her mother’s had once. Verm wished her twin were here to talk about it with.   

“Auntie V, why do you make this for everyone every year?”  

Verm turned back to the family right in front of her. Oh right. These trolls might not share her bloodline, but they were family, too. She smiled at Clementine. “Because I like helping people. Sometimes that’s with a medical treatment, but I find quite often, the best cure is some rest in a warm place, good company, and a nice bowl of soup.” Just at that moment, Citrus handed her a spoon. Verm was able to take a taste of her own creation. She hummed, “I think this batch turned out quite well. Perhaps some salt and pepper, but all in all.”  

The little girl put the bowl to her mouth and noisily slurped up her own taste. As Clementine’s eyes sparkled and Citrus scolded her to watch her manners and Shelby laughed so hard she had to lean on Key Lime’s shoulder just to stay upright, Vermillion Bloom knew this was the life for her.

Chapter Text

Topaz absolutely loves going to school, almost as much as she loves heading out to sportsball practice, or soccer practice, or a skating lesson (which she’s taking so she can play junior hockey next year), or- you get the picture. She really can’t help herself from bouncing all around once she’s woken up enough to realize she gets to go to kindergarten again today! The second the backpack comes out, Topaz is grabbing it and racing towards the door, even if she’s still in her pajamas. She just can’t help it! Especially now that they’re about to go on winter break and Teacher’s been reading them holiday stories!  

Coming home from school is usually the same. She comes through the door skill buzzing about what she did with her friends that day or excitedly getting ready for some sort of sports practice. It’s rare that Topaz is low-energy in any shape, way or form.  

Of course her parents are concerned when she doesn’t come singing through the door or bouncing to her seat for afternoon snack. Topaz walking normally was worrisome enough, but dragging her feet? Her dad was half ready to race off to the doctor’s!  

Her mom’s a bit more level-headed in cases like this. She sets down her phone as Topaz wiggles up into her seat. “What’s the matter, honey? Were the kickballs deflated at recess again?”  

“No, they were fine.” Topaz sighs as heavily as a little girl could. “Miss S read us this story about things Santa has, and one of them was the naughty list.” She looks up with damp eyes and a quivering lip. “Do you think I might be on the naughty list, Mommy?”  

“What?!” Topaz’s dad exclaims, “Never in a million years is my little girl on the naughty list!”  

“Bu-but I hit Gabby with the ball last week and I tugged the beard off that Santa we took pictures with and I-I-I-” her tears were uncontrollable once she really started sniffling- “I think I am on the naughty list!”  

Her parents exchanged a look. Topaz’s dad knelt down next to her chair. He brushed the ever-falling flyaway hairs off to the side. “Sweetheart, there is absolutely no way you are on the naughty list. You are such a sweet kid. You made a card for Gabby and insisted on bringing a treat for her critter when we went to check on her after practice.”  

“Yeah,” her mom called as she swung around the counter, “And we already had a conversation about that actor. It’s natural to be curious.”  

“That’s what Boogie said, too.” Topaz looked down at her hands. “I just really want him to come this year. The story said that he doesn’t visit naughty kids.”  

“Why’s it so important that Santa comes this year, honey?”  

Topaz shook her head. “I just need him to come! A lot of my friends are staying over. Even if I’ve been naughty, they deserve to get visited by Santa.”  

That reasoning alone made both her parents smile. Her father planted a kiss on her forehead.  

“You don’t need to worry about that one bit, honey. He’ll come.”  

Topaz let him wipe her tears away. Her mother ruffled her hair. “Of course he will. Even in the crazy world where your name’s on that list, you’ve got some really good friends. Santa will come for them.”  

“You promise?”  

“I do. Now, go clean your room before your friends get here.”  

Topaz wiped her eyes and hopped off the chair. “Okay, Mommy!”  

She went off towards her room, leaving her parents smiling behind her. Moss stood up and put an arm around his wife. She couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “We made that.”  

“And every sweet thing in her came straight from you, TJ.” He pulled her in for a kiss. From around the corner, Topaz stifled a giggle. She ran off, humming as she went.

Chapter Text

Fisher always tries to look for the best in every season. In the spring, all the flowers bloom and baby critters are wobbling about, figuring out the ways of the world. She lost hours every day hiking through fields as great blossoms overhead reached for the sky. It was excusable, thankfully; she was refreshing her memory on the paths for summertime as it brought all sorts of visitors. Parents and their children, grad students studying the wildlife, wild youths, they’d need her to know every trail perfectly when trouble inevitably popped up. Fisher didn’t mind, of course! It was all part of the job, and she really did enjoy talking to the visitors.  

Some seasons were kind of harder to find positives in. Fall, for example, was probably the most dangerous time of the year for trolls. Especially her own of Country. They had this attitude that they were tougher and became more likely to march past “falling acorn” or “dangerous critter” warning signs without recognizing the danger. The office’s pen supply practically disappeared with all the incident reports that ended up being filed during that season. The best part of the season was towards the end, when her job became about keeping the trails clear. When every storm had the threat of snow, the few remaining campers typically came prepared. Fisher just had to make sure they were out of there when the season ended. That was when it became easier to see the positives of her job.  

Yessir, she sure loved when it was just her and the handful of coworkers roaming those lands. Fisher’s biggest job became keeping the main roads used for getting out clear, as best as she could get them. Which was usually fantastic, because Poppa had raised a hard worker who won’t half-ass anything. The only times when they weren’t good to drive was when a serious storm hit. Even for how far north they were, anything more than five inches was pretty rare for the area.  

It really did catch her off guard when a bad storm suddenly started pouring snow on her head as she’d been clearing a road around the western side of the park. The sherpa jacket that came with her uniform barely kept the cold from creeping into her bones. Just her luck too, the tractor plow they usually used had been out-of-commission that day, so she had to walk to the nearest ranger station with a massive fuckin’ snow shovel in hand.  

Fisher swore under her breath as she went along. The report hadn’t called for anything this bad, which was the only reason why she’d agreed to come shovel the road this late in her shift. She had a party to attend tonight and about a dozen gifts to wrap for white-elephant-slash-dirty-santa parties coming up next week and a few more cards she had to finish writing on top of that. There was no time for this! At least the station’s thick walls trapped a small bit of warmth. Fisher sighed happily and found a corner to set down the shovel.  

Her first task was goin’ straight to the wood-burning stove. She grabbed the basket of old newspapers and hay and got straight to work building up a small fire. Just the little amount of heat that came off the first flame was a blessing, but once she got a few sticks and logs on? That must be what the songs mean when they talk about nirvana.   

Fire for warmth, check. Next up on Fisher’s docket was getting to the radio station. She’s carefully read through the manual for their system more than enough times to know exactly how to get it working. Fisher twists the knob to the first channel their team uses, and somethin’ must be watching out for her ‘cause she hears the coworker at the main station right away.  

“Ranger Spencer, this is Ranger Fisher, do you copy?”  

“Thank fuck, I copy you, Fisher. This damn storm rolled in so fast I was half worried you’d get stuck out there.”  

She rolled her eyes, hiding the smile in her voice, “Language, Spence, let’s try to stay professional.”  

“Oh, whatever. What’s your current location?”  

Fisher glanced at the map pinned above the radio. “Station 14. How’s the forecast lookin’? Reckon I might be able to make it to Mary-Lou's holiday party tonight?”  

“Copy that. Hope you’re comfy there, looks like this damn storm ain’t letting up ‘til the mornin’. I’ll be sure to pass on the rain check. Er, snow check, I s’pose. Have you taken inventory of your supplies yet?”  

“That’s a negative. Protocol states we light a fire then contact the main station.”  

The other ranger laughed on the other side of the line. “Girl, check again! Step one is light a fire, step two is do inventory, and then you radio in.”  

“Aw, you’re jokin’.” She pulled her well-dog-eared code book from her saddle bag and found the right page. There in black-n-white was exactly what she’d just heard. “Dammit.”  

“Naw, y’all’re fine. Dye ‘n Anne were just up there last week refreshing the supplies. Ya should be fine, though y’all probably oughta take a look-see for yourself. Let me know if there’s not enough enough” The line went quiet for just a moment, then her coworker hastily tagged on, “Oh, I think they added somethin’ special to the supplies, too. Stay safe, alright?”  

“Alrighty. You too, Spencer. Keep me updated on any developments, and give my best to the spouse, y’hear?  Fisher out.”  

The line cut out as she pulled off her headphones. Okay, so she skipped ahead a bit in the checklist, but that ain’t no real issue. Like her fellow ranger said, it’s never too late to round back on a bullet point. She grabs the supplies list and opens the cupboard. All the typical stuff, rice, beans, canned veggies, dried noodles, et cetera. She could probably whip up a good bowl of soup in a jiffy. Compared to all those pretty standard items, the “something special” stood out. A glass jar filled with a brown mix labeled “hot chocolate”. Next to it sat a bag of jumbo marshmallows.  

The very next time she saw her two coworkers, she’d have to kiss them for this. Sure, she’d have to use water to make it up, but in weather like this, nothing on the planet tasted as wonderful as a mug of hot cocoa with several jumbo marshmallows thrown on top. The first sip settled directly into Fisher’s bones in the most pleasant way.   

Maybe she was missing the party, and she’d certainly have to rush to get everything else ready in time for the holidays. The cocoa made up for a sliver of that, though. And, she suddenly remembered, there were a few episodes of her favorite drama show downloaded to her phone! Fisher settled in for the night, feeling pretty content despite her disappointment.