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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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But professor… - c.7

Summary: Penny discovers something

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

It’s February now and I officially quit school. Never in a million years did I think that I would be good enough for it anyway and when I went back after Christmas break, I realized I wasn’t in the right place at all. Ever since I dropped out, I have been looking into cosmetology school and how to tell my parents about this sudden change.

Walter is getting ready to teach for today and is going to drop me off at the mall, because I need to buy a few things. Since I have yet to move out of the dorm, I need at least some boxes and just some other items.

‘Princess, you look absolutely gorgeous,’ Walter says, patting my butt through my jeans.

I squeal, before turning around, slapping him across his chest. ‘Don’t do that,’ I laugh.

‘Why not?’ He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up. ‘You’ve got a cute butt.’

After I triple checked if I have everything, the two of us leave his loft and walk downstairs towards the garage, his hand securely wrapped around mine. Like usual, he opens the door for me and kisses me the second he got in his truck as well. It’s becoming a thing now and it’s weird if he doesn’t do it.

Walter holds my hand as he drives towards the mall. ‘Princess, how about you and I get you moved in the middle of the night? So I can help you carry some boxes.’

‘I can ask someone to help me,’ I say. ‘Maybe just call someone from one of those services. Please, I don’t want to risk running into someone I might possibly know.’ When I notice he isn’t liking it, I say: ‘Please, Walter, don’t sweat it. I can move out myself.’

‘I know, I know,’ he grumbles. ‘It’s just that I want to help you out.’ He presses a kiss on my hand and leans back in his seat. ‘You look beautiful.’

‘Do you need to tell me that every opportunity you get?’

‘Yes,’ he simply says. ‘Come on, princess, scoot a little closer.’

It’s been a few weeks since he got the truck fixed, so I could sit closer to him. I unbuckle myself, before sliding over to his side. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and I close my eyes after I strapped myself into the seatbelt. ‘You’re so needy,’ I chuckle.

‘I’m not needy, I just love you. Need you as close as possible, darling.’

His arm feels heavy on my shoulders and when we’re close to the mall, I say: ‘Do you need anything?’

‘Maybe some snacks, but I’ll leave that up to you.’ He gives me a long kiss, before I get out of the truck.

‘I love you,’ I say.

‘I love you too, princess. Text me when you’re back at the loft, okay?’

‘Will do.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Shopping was nice, until I had to throw up. That never happened to me before. I think in my entire life I have vomited only once, until today. I stare at the stomach contents that are floating in the toilet. I can’t think of eating anything that has made this nauseous I need to puke.

Why would anyone vomit? The only reasons I can imagine is food poisoning, a stomach bug or being pregna—

Oh.

Could it be?

I flush the toilet and with the moving boxes that I have yet to fold into boxes, I walk through the shopping mall to the drugstore. I ask the woman behind the registry if I can have a pregnancy test and she simply nods. I don’t know what I was expecting (maybe the woman first completing a three hour interview before handing me a test, I don’t know), but after I paid for it and hid it in my purse, I walk out of the mall.

What if I’m pregnant? I mean, yes, I did skip a period, but that is not new to me. I mean, I’ve been pretty regular all my life, minus a few times. Normally me skipping a period didn’t make me suspect anything, since I wasn’t having sex, nor was I the next virgin Mary, but now…

Walter and I have been having sex quite a lot. I mean, it’s always with a condom of course, but even those are not one hundred percent effective.

I might be naive from time to time, but I’m not that stupid to unrealistic about the effectiveness of condoms.

The bus ride back to the loft couldn’t be any longer and when I finally arrive at Walter’s place (soon to be ours), I quickly text him I’m home, before hiding into the bathroom. Buying one was weird, peeing on a stick is weirder.

As I wait for the two minutes to pass by, I think about what to do. Would I have a baby at this age? I mean, I’ve always wanted kids and maybe now is a good time? Okay, no, it’s not absolutely ideal (the timing couldn’t have been more off), but… I’m not in school right now and—

Oh no, that’s just me being selfish and only thinking about my situation. I haven’t even thought about Walter yet. We never spoke about having kids, because I don’t think you are supposed to do that this early on in your relationship.

Right?

Oh my goodness, this is too much for me to think about. Let’s just wait until I see what the test says. I mean, there is a possibility I’m not pregnant and just a little bit late with my period and caught a stomach bug. Why think about all sorts of scenarios when there is a chance that it’s not applicable to me.

I grab the test and discover it has two strips. After a quick examination of the box I discover that…

I’m pregnant.

✎ ✎ ✎

Six hours. Six hours have passed by since I took the first test. In that time, I went back to the drugstore, to buy another one and peed on that one as well. They say there is no such thing as a false positive, but I’d rather be too sure.

And that one was also positive.

So naturally I spend my time wisely until Walter came home. I’ve been pacing through the loft, looked online how to tell your partner that you are pregnant and I ate some watermelon.

Walter walks in with a deep frown between his brows, but that disappears when he sees me. ‘Princess,’ he says, ‘you have no idea how much I missed you.’ He sits next to me on the couch and gives me a kiss. The frown appears again when he takes in my expressions. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

He nods. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes, it’s just that… I don’t know. It’s kinda huge.’

He places his arm on the backrest, while his other hand takes mine. ‘Tell me, princess.’

Don’t beat around the bush, just tell him. ‘I’m pregnant, Walter.’

If it were possible, I’d suspect someone pressed on pause, because Walter completely froze. He tries to find some words for it, however nothing seems to leave his lips. I mean, what am I expecting from him? I’m trying to figure out whether or not I should be happy or scared.

‘Oh,’ he finally says. ‘And you’re planning to keep the baby or not?’

I nod. ‘I do and I understand that it’s too soon for us and that you won’t want to stay. I really understand that, Walter. I’m so sorry.’

Walter scoffs and actually looks super offended. ‘I do not understand why you think I wouldn’t stay, because I’m going to be right by your side, every step of the way.’ He squeezes in my hand and says: ‘You will never get rid of me that easily, princess.’

I let out a nervous chuckle, realizing how stupid it was of me to actually think he wouldn’t stay. I mean, we’re talking about Walter here. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘for just assuming. It’s just that my brain is working overtime. I might be a little scared.’

He nods. ‘I understand. It’s quite a lot, but let’s think about one thing first, okay?’ His lips curl up into a smile and says: ‘We’re going to be parents.’

When someone else says it, it’s even more meaningful. My eyes fill with tears as realization hit that I am indeed gonna be a mom and that Walter is staying, thus becoming a dad.

Walter pulls me closer and gives me a kiss on my forehead. ‘Princess, it’s okay.’

‘I know, but it’s so scary. So much is gonna change.’

He nods. ‘Nothing we can’t handle though.’ He pulls me on his lap and gives me another peck, this time on my lips. ‘Now we really need to get you out of that dorm. This weekend I’ll make sure someone is gonna help you with moving and you’re gonna stay right here with me.’

I smile. ‘I can’t wait.’

‘And,’ he says, ‘do you really want to go to cosmetology school now? We can always arrange something when the baby is here.’

‘I kinda want to focus on the pregnancy first, since I have no idea what to expect.’

‘Alright,’ he says, ‘then we’ll wait with that.’ He places his hand on my flat stomach and says: ‘Oh shit, Penny, I’m gonna be a dad.’

I can’t help but squeal when I think about it a while longer. ‘And I’m gonna be a mom.’

✎ ✎ ✎

It’s only obvious that we have to tell my parents. After I had my first scan, I realize that I really shouldn’t push the matter and just tell them, especially because the baby is healthy and I’m out of my first trimester at fifteen weeks of pregnancy. Besides, I also officially live with Walter and those nerves are slowly becoming less and less prevalent.

My bump is minuscule, but that doesn’t stop Walter from continuously placing his hands on it when he can. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, his hands are always on my stomach, but that’s okay. It’s sweet to see the demeanor of the detective change from someone who always has a figurative thunderstorm hanging above his head, to someone with childlike happiness.

We’re driving to Maryland now and we’ve been on the road for a mere forty-five minutes, when I say: ‘I have to pee.’

Walter starts to laugh loudly. ‘Again? Princess, you went three times back at home.’

Home. That shouldn’t make me giggly, but sure does. ‘I know, but I have to go again.’

‘Lucky you there’s a gas station right here.’ He gets off the road and parks his car. ‘Want something to eat, princess?’

‘Some orange juice, chips and chocolate.’

He simply nods and tells me to stay put. As usual, he opens the door for me. He was already very chivalrous when we just started dating, but pregnancy has multiplied it by a hundred. He securely places his hand on the small of my back and like the true detective he is, he checks everything and everyone in the gas station, before he says: ‘I’ll be right here, princess.’

I squeeze his hand, a silent thank you, before walking off to the restrooms to pee. After I washed and dried my hands, I exit the restrooms, to see Walter is already waiting for me, with all the snacks I wanted and even some more.

It’s nice to know that he still loves me a lot, even after we spend so many weeks together.

Once we’re back in the car, I let out a deep sigh.

‘Princess, you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.’

‘Why don’t you sleep?’ he suggests. ‘I’ll let you know once we’re close.’

I groan. ‘No, because that is so boring and I’ve been boring for so many weeks now.’

He scoffs. ‘You’re not boring, you’re pregnant. You’re allowed to be tired, princess and please just catch up on some sleep now.’

I hold his hand in mine, as I close my eyes and drift off to a light sleep. Walter doesn’t need to wake me up, because after an hour or so my eyes flutter open and I smile. ‘We’re almost there?’

‘Maybe an hour?’

I grab some of the snacks and feed Walter, as he continues to watch the road. I once saw how he drove, because we were video calling then. It was fast, hasty and in my opinion not very safe. When he drives with me, he doesn’t ignore the speed limits and is very very safe.

Imagine if there’s a child in the back, I bet he’ll drive just as safe, if not safer.

He places his hand on my stomach and says: ‘I’m not gonna lie, but I’m kinda nervous to meet your parents.’

‘You are?’ I ask. I thought nervous wasn’t in his dictionary. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, it’s just nerve wracking. Not only have I never met them, but I also got you pregnant. That usually doesn’t do well.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry,’ I say. ‘My parents are very open minded. Besides, my mom and I used to watch Sixteen and Pregnant and she always said that despite not having to worry about that since I lived like a nun back then, she’d love a grandchild. So, I think we’re good. Also, my dad is probably a little scared of you. He is not that tall.’

Walter chuckles. ‘Well, maybe this’ll go well.’

‘It’ll go splendid, Walter,’ I say, ‘really. If my parents see how well you take care of me, then there is nothing to worry about.’ I place my hand on his and whisper: ‘They’ll love you.’

He smiles. ‘Good. Alright, let me get this straight one last time: we met at a coffee place, right?’

‘Correct,’ I chuckle.

The last part of the drive goes by fast and before we get out of the truck, I put on a sweater to hide the little bump. Walter unbuckles himself and his hand slips underneath the thick fabric, placing it on my tiny bump. He leans forward to press a kiss on it and says: ‘I can do this forever. I might have to quit my job, so I can do this whenever I want.’

I roll my eyes. He has been taking this dad thing so serious and while sometimes it’s very cheesy, I love him for it. Really, I couldn’t have asked for a better man to start having a family with. Is it pretty short notice, being only together a little over four months? Yes, of course, but that’s okay. I feel like the two of us can actually handle it. ‘We should go.’

We get out of the car and when we walk up to the door (Walter holding our luggage, since my mom insisted we stayed in the house I grew up in) my parents open the it and mom runs up to me.

‘Oh, honey, there you are!’ She gives me a hug and I hold back a little, so she won’t feel my bump against her body. I give my dad a hug as well and they look both hopeful and a little nervous when they see Walter.

‘Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend Walter. Walter, these are my parents, Lance and CC.’

Walter is polite, a role that fits him so well, yet I barely see it. He is always so sweet and kind to me, so grumpy and annoyed when it comes to my classmates and so neutral when it’s others. Now it changes a bit. He smiles, he shakes my parents’ hands and from the look of their faces, he isn’t over squeezing it (I actually had to tell him that). ‘Nice to meet you,’ Walter says. ‘You have a lovely looking home.’

‘Oh, aren’t you a dear.’ Mom ushers us to come inside and Walter places his hand on my back, as we follow them inside. I give him a little nod, a sign that it is all going well.

And, it actually goes really well. My parents are in love with Walter and he is slowly warming up to them, eventually even cracking some jokes. We talked about how the two of us “met”, what Walter does for a living (currently he is working at the police department in New York and not as professor at NYU) and a little bit about my parents’ work. Of course, the subject school came up once or twice, but I kinda chickened out telling them I actually quit.

I clear my throat and say: ‘I actually have some news.’

Walter finds my hand underneath the table and gives me a reassuring squeeze.

‘What is it, honey?’ mom asks.

I look at Walter, whose eyes say it all: I’m ready when you are. ‘Well,’ I whisper, ‘I… I’m pregnant.’

Oh no, they’re silent. Oh my gosh, how are they going to react? I bet they’re mad. Oh, shit, my dad is clenching his jaw. They are totally mad.

‘Are you serious?’ my mom asks, blinking a few times.

I nod. ‘Fifteen weeks.’

‘Oh my goodness,’ mom says. ‘Honey, that is amazing. I am so happy for you.’ She stands up from the table and walks over to me. I give her a hug and she whispers: ‘You’ll be a fantastic mom.’ She pulls back and squeals something about becoming a grandmother. She places her hand on my stomach. ‘Oh my, a little bump. Honey, this’ll go fantastic. I am sure you and Walter will become magnificent parents. That reminds me, Walter, give me a hug. You’re officially part of the family, now. Congratulations, sweetheart.’

Walter stands up and gives my mom a tight hug. Dad walks up to me and holds my face in his hands. ‘You’re gonna be an amazing mother,’ he says.

‘You think so?’

‘I don’t think so, I know so.’ He gives me a kiss on my forehead and says: ‘Is this also a right moment to tell me you quit school?’

My eyes enlarge. ‘How did you know?’

‘You can maybe fool your mom, but you can never fool me, sweetheart. You know, you focus on your pregnancy now. You can always go back to school.’

I let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully he is pretty cool about me just quitting. We’ll talk about eventually going to cosmetology school a little bit later on. ‘I love you, dad.’

‘I love you too.’

✎ ✎ ✎

That night, Walter and I are in my old room, squeezed in my two person bed (that is a little slimmer than the one back in the loft) and we reminisce about the evening. It went more than splendid, even when my mom forced me to take off my sweater so she could see the bump. She called at least ten friends to tell them she is gonna be a grandmother and that the child will be gorgeous and lovely, though they have yet to be born.

Walter turns to his side so he can look at me and says: ‘Okay, I have a proposition,’ he says, ‘and I want your honest opinion.’

‘Okay.’

‘How about, you and I move to Maryland?’

Is he serious? ‘Really?’

‘Really. I could see how happy your parents were with the pregnancy and maybe… Maybe they’d like it if you would be closer to them. Besides, I can arrange something and work in Maryland. It’s not like I’m bounded to New York. For that matter, I actually really want to leave that place, because if I see that slimy ass Fitzgerald one more time…’

While I start to laugh because of his personal vendetta against Fitzgerald, my hormones are also all over the place, because I bawl my eyes out only a second later.

‘Princess, don’t cry. This is good news.’ He presses kisses on my temple and cheek, kissing my tears away. ‘But I’ll take that as a yes?’

I nod. ‘I would love that, Walter. Thank you.’

#henry cavill #walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall x penny townsend #asian ofc #penny townsend #but professor

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gb-patch · 3 years

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Ask Answers: May 15th Part 2

And here’s the next part of the long answer set of the day!

When will OL: N&F take place? Beginnings and Always took place during summer breaks, will now and forever take place during a fall break or will the characters be going to school at the time of the events we play through?

It takes place over all of the fall season, so school will be happening in OL2. Some events do take place in school, though many times events only start after school is already out for the day, haha.

Hey!! I have kind of a weird question?? I’m sorry if it’s been answered before and I just haven’t seen it but is OL 2 taking place during the same years as OL 1? I’m just curious, thank you for such amazing games!!!

It’s a similar time frame, but not 100% exactly same.

Do you have any idea when the demo for now and forever will be available?

Hopefully this fall! But that’s not a guarantee.

Okay the crime show in Step 2: Growing up. Long blonde hair, police station, crime series? Was it The Closer? Because I’m the same age as MC and Cove and my mom was constantly watching that when I was 13. 😂

Haha, yeah! The Closer and, to a lesser degree, Medium were the kind of shows I was referencing there. My mom also used to watch those back in the day.

Hey um this might be an odd question but if the setting of OL: N&F is fall/autumn, what country or city will it take because my mind tells me it is either Poland or Canada. Also I can't wait for the game I am hyped

It’s set in the USA again. We’d like to be able to have cameos and that’s easiest to do if the OL games take place in the same country.

Is it possible for the PC of OL to have non-seriously dated other people in the in between years even if they’ve had a consistent crush on Cove?

You can causally date Baxter in Step 3 if you get his DLC and then ultimately choose Cove in Step 4. If you mean off-screen people, it doesn’t really come up, but you can certainly headcanon that. The game never says Cove is the only partner you’ve ever had.

Is there going to be a Kickstarter for Now and Forever as well? For like voiced names and stuff again? Didn’t find B&A until after it was released and I’d really love the opportunity to hear my name in the game 🥺

Yeah, we are gonna have a Kickstarter with getting a voiced name as a reward! Though, it will be more expensive than it was for OL1. I feel bad to raise the price but we realized too late the first time around that it was being super undersold for the amount of work it took, aha.

Do you know how much the remaining DLC for OL will cost? (Step 4, Derek, Baxter)

Step 4: Free

Wedding DLC: $2.99USD

Derek DLC: $4.99USD

Baxter DLC: $4.99USD

Has an artist for the new position been picked yet?! I'm super excited for the new game!

We did fill that spot. Thank you so much for taking the time to apply!

hmmm what would it take to get each of the XOXO jerk squad to feel the need to hug you?

They’d have to first like you a fair amount, otherwise the most you’d get is maybe a pat on the shoulder. If they were attached, they might hug you if you broke down crying or if you gave them super good news.

Unless it’s Shiloh, of course. If you want a hug you only have to ask!

May i ask how the Derek DLC will work? I believe that there aren’t any memories in step 4 and doesnt derek’s dlc take place during that step? So will the dlc add memories? Thank you!

Derek’s DLC will add five Moments to Step 2 (a new page will appear on that screen if you get the DLC). Then in Step 4 you’ll have to choose between playing the default epilogue or going through the Derek romance story.

Is the pc version on itch,io different from the steam version? Like an offline one or something?

Steam has achievements, but that’s about it. Both can be played offline, if you prefer.

I've been wondering this for awhile, what determines if cove winds up with a ponytail in step 3? I've done multiple runs with different MCs with varying hairstyles. Or does it have to do with a particular moment in step 2?

I’m afraid I can’t say exact choices that determine things. But generally it’s preference based options in the Step before that decide those things.

Any Floret Bond updates?

No, the artist had to leave the project and it’s been on-hold. I’m not sure if I want to try working just with what we have or replacing it all entirely. The design is a bit too specific for us to easily find someone who could mimic it. Hopefully we’ll work things out later, though.

In step 3 is Cove's plan always to stay in sunset bird?

Yeah. He is never ready at 18-years-old to make a big life change.

I love your content! If it's alright to ask, you answered in a previous ask about how Jeremy was too particular with what he likes his types to be romanceable with just any MC and it's sort of got me wondering.. What /are/ his types and/or preferences and such? Sorry if it's a lot!

Jeremy likes stubborn jerks and will not date someone who’s sweet or even generally a decent person, haha.

uh, excuse me if you said this somewhere before, but how will step 4 be actually? Will it he like an actual step and have moments and dlc and all? Or will it be more like a long epilogue of some sort?

Will the step 4, the wedding and extra routes dlcs be paid too? Im just confused, sorry if im asking too much

Step 4 is only an epilogue, so it’s just a long series of scenes one after the other rather than a collection of Moments you can choose from.

The Step 4 epilogue is free, the wedding DLC, Derek DLC, and Baxter DLC cost money.

i’m not sure how much of the wedding dlc you have planned already, or if this would be to spoilery, but what kind of wedding traditions will be included? i keep thinking about how flustered cove would get over a garter toss & was wondering if we’d see a scene like that haha. obviously no worries if it’s not included, i’ll enjoy literally anything cove related

I don’t know for sure yet, haha. Right now we’re focused on the parts before the big day. We’ll see how many scene alterations we can include for the wedding itself later on.

Hello! Firstly, thank you for creating such an amazing game like OL, and I couldn’t be more excited for OL2! Out of curiosity, are you looking for any writers to come on for OL2 or are you all pretty much set in that department? Just thought I’d shoot my shot haha but I’m still excited regardless ^^!

We will be hiring writers for OL2 later this year! Thank you for the interest.

Will we be blessed with a spin-off Yandere Cove, like XOXO Blood Droplets?

Sadly, no. It’s a shame but there’s not enough time to keep making OL1 bonus/spin-off content.

How is Q pronounced?

I’m afraid Q’s full name hasn’t been publicly announced yet so I can’t answer here (Q and T are the first letters of the names for the new LIs in Our Life: Now & Forever).

Question; is the steam version getting a Mac update? I purchased the dlc there thinking it had Mac support without realizing it and just wondered if I’d need to refund it to purchase on itch.io 😭

I’m really sorry, you will need to get a refund from Steam. We do hope to have it there for Steam eventually, but have no idea of when it’ll happen. Apple requires special notarization to be an officially accepted app for their devices. We don’t have that. Steam requires having that, Itch will let you release it as an non-notarized third party app. That’s why Itch is the only place that has the Mac version right now.

would you mind posting outfit sheets for Cove in every step? it would make things a lot easier for us artists. it would save a lot of time spent looking for references

I think we did do the earlier steps when they were finished way back in 2019 (this game took a long time to make, aha), but we can probably repost them sometime!

In our life n&f, will we be able to get into qprs/will there be more options in regards to having deep platonic relationships with the love interests? Because as an aroace individual, it would be great if there could also be emphasis on platonic love so that it's more aspec inclusive.

It’s a little hard to say at this point. There may not be things like a wedding DLC for OL2 and so the relationship for platonic and romantic feelings might not go as far as it did in the first game. We’ll kind of have to see how much we can do based on timeframe/budget constraints that will only be set near the end of the year. But we will be keeping things like that in mind at least.

hi! i really really like your game and im absolutely in love with it! i cant wait to try your other games like xoxo droplet and future OL NF :))

during the step 3 erands moment i got curious, which fudge flavor is his favorite? it seems like he likes all of them, but which 4 do you think he would like best?

also i noticed that in some playthroughs cove would let me give him a piggy back ride, and in some he wouldn't, how come?

how does your choices affect cove's interests or looks? i replayed the game without changing any choices but i got cove to look different, is it just random?

thank you!

Cove’s favorite flavors are ones with nuts and that are fruity! But he appreciates them all. Whether or not you can give him a piggyback ride depends on if your MC is fit/large enough to hold a muscular 6-foot-tall beach boy, haha.

Cove’s appearance does depend on choices and it’s generally tied to choices that are preference based rather than emotion/action based, such as which key chain you pick in Step 1.

Is it possible for cove to reject MC's proposal at the end of step 3?

Nope. He’ll always accept.

hi! i was wondering how heavily the side characters will be featured in the our life wedding dlc? obviously it'll be cove & mc focused, but i was thinking it'd be sweet if we could take lizzie dress / suit shopping or dance with cliff at the wedding or something.

The side characters are there about as often as they are in normal events. So, it’s clearly focused on Cove but he’s not the only person you have any meaningful moments with.

When will responses be sent out to applicants?

I’m afraid we don’t send responses out to all applications, only ones we’re interested in offering the position to. Not everyone likes rejection emails and the amount of applications is too high to contact them all to say we’re not hiring them. We post updates on the job page when a position has news. Right now we’ve filled every role that was open.

Is there also going to be the option to keep your relationships with the love interests platonic in Our Life: Now and Forever? That's something I really appreciate in Our Life: Beginnings and Always

Yeah! OL will never force you to end up in a romantic relationship with someone.

I was wondering, in the Step 3 Happiness moment, what are the different fishes Cove can compare MC to? I got "you'd be a paradise fish, because being with you is paradise," but my friend got "you'd be an angelfish." Are there more variations?

He says paradise fish if you’re a couple, angelfish if he’s just crushing, and then a royal dottyback/queenfish/emperor tetra (based on your gender) if he likes the MC platonicly.

Hello! So, in one of the Step 3 DLCs, Cove's arm was gone. I think it was to show him putting his arm behind his back. But if that wasn't the case, did it get yeeted?

Thanks for letting us know. That was an error we tried to fix a little while back. When did you make the save file you were playing? If it was older that might be why it happened. Or maybe the error wasn’t fully fixed after all.

Asking for your opinion, but do you think Cove would at all be into ABBA? Because all I could imagine during the car trip in step 3 was him and the MC belting to Mamma Mia.

Haha, yeah, there’d definitely be some ABBA songs he was into.

So throughout the game, Cove can develop different interests depending on the player’s choices; does this mean that he can have different careers in Step 4? Or his is line of work in adulthood never mentioned at all?

He can have different career paths in Step 4!

Hi!! I'm so so sorry if this has been asked before but I just acquired knowledge about the so famous nsfw dlc for OL and nearly chocked on my bubblegum 💀💀💀 So, my real inquiry is if that specific moment will have any kind of impact at some point of the fourth step OR if it will just be treated as a side-story-ish “what if” scenario.Also, is there any chance there'll be something similar for Step 4? Haha jk,,, unless 😳Questions apart let me thank you profoundly for making the best visual novel I've ever played 😭 Really really looking forward the epilogue and OL2 💕 Have a nice day

It’s just a bonus side story that’s fully separate from the main game.

It would be nice to have one for Step 4 too, but I sadly don’t see us having time to actually do it. I don’t know, if people are still asking for more OL1 content several months from now it might be doable and worth doing.

I'd just like to ask, when is Baxter's birthday :0 -- I'm really curious esp with their zodiac signs so ;w;

I don’t know, haha. Maybe I’ll come up with one someday.

Please help!! I bought the Step 3 DLC but I still have no idea how to get to where you can propose to Cove - any tips?

How do I get the option to propose to Cove at the end of the game?

You can click HERE for a discussion on that.

I love that Miranda and Terry are getting together! I'm curious if you have canon sexualities for them? Also just wanted to say how much I love OL and how much joy it brings me everytime I play it <3

Terry likes ladies and Miranda likes dudes!

ngl Step 4 Terry's design reads like y'all see trans guys as their assigned gender more than you see them as men to me (a trans guy)... like maybe if he isn't heavily dysphoric, I could see it, but everything you've said about him doesn't line up with that. Even then, immediate warning bells go off in my head looking at him. I wouldn't have touched the game if I saw him ahead of time.

I’m sorry you aren’t comfortable with the way the design looks. The situation with Terry is that he’s now open about who he is, but the body he was born with is still physically the same. He only came out recently as an adult and hasn’t gone through any treatments/procedures yet (his chest is flatter because he wears a binder). However, even though his body hasn’t transitioned at the point Step 4 happens, no one treats him as anything other than the guy he is. Having a trans character who’s identity is supported/respected from the start is what we’re going for in this case. But what we’re doing with Terry isn’t the only trans content we’ve ever had/ever will have in the future.

how would baxter react to bae pyoun and vice versa? and can you please detailly explain both love interests personalities from our life 2: now and forever? i was just curious, sorry for dumb question!!

I imagine it’d be pretty opposite experiences, haha. Bae would initially think Baxter is pushy and thoughtless, but would quickly realize, oh, he’s instead a soft, considerate boy. Very cute. Baxter would first be struck with the impression that Bae is charming and gentlemanly, but then would realize that, no, he’s a sarcastic asshole. And I’m afraid we can’t reveal the personalities for the next game yet.

Sorry if you've already answered this, but I have a question about the patreon exclusive moment you're working on. I was wondering if it's mainly going to be CGs or if it's mostly character sprites + backgrounds with some CGs.

Either way, thank you for doing the Lord's work and not only making Cove, but making this bonus moment as well 😌😌😌

It’s mostly sprites/backgrounds with two CGs!

—– —– —– —–

Thank you again for the interesting questions everyone :D

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

#our life #Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life: Now & Forever #xoxo droplets #ask #gb patch #gb patch games

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aliasimagines · 4 years

Text

operation fools in love//luke patterson

requested by a lovely anon

word count: 3333(!!!)

a/n: i still don’t know how to write endings

The corridor was noisy with loud chatter, quietly whispered gossip and the sound of rushing students' shoes hitting against the floor.

You hummed 'edge of great' as you started fishing out the books you need for class from your locker. It has been stuck in your head since yesterday evening when the guys played it for you and Flynn at band practice.

You were about to close your locker when he poofed next to you.

“Hi, y/n!”

“AAHHH” you screamed, earning a few side looks from passing by students.

“Ahh, I accidentally kicked my locker, haha…”you started explaining yourself before turning back to your open locker. You sent a glare in Luke’s way.

“What did Julie and I say to you? Do not teleport randomly to us at school!”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, rules, rules, I don’t care. I just wanted to drop in and say hi!” he smiled at you with his signature Luke smile.

“Well, you did. That’s all? I kinda need to go to class.” you spot Julie in the corner of your eyes as you walk over to her locker. You quickly wave at her and soon after she comes over so you can talk to Luke without looking crazy.

Luke mumbles something under his breath and goes to scratch the back of his head.

“No! Uhm..Hi Jules… So y/n I also kinda wanted to ask if you would come to our gig tonight? You know, we are playing not far from that food place you like? "

You smiled, appreciating that he remembered your favorite food place.

"Well,erm.. I guess? I want to but I might have dance practice, so I am not sure." you say, wishing you'd know for sure but you won't find out till the end of your classes.

Luke's lips formed an 'o' before his gaze fell down on his shoes.

"Oh well.. I-okay. Bye?" he says in an unsure tone before disappearing, leaving you to face Julie.

"Well, wasn't that adorable?" she asks with a smug grin.

"What? What are you talkin' bout Jules?" you ask honestly confused. She laughs and puts her hand on your shoulder.

"Sweetheart, you two are just oblivious to each other!"

"I don't… What?"

"You like him. He likes you. It's not that confusing. Really it is obvious."

"Shhh, quiet!" you shh-ed her, quickly making sure if Luke was 100 percent gone. "I.. I don't like him."

It was unnecessary, you couldn't even fool yourself and especially not Julie.

"Y/N, come on girl, I know you do. And he does like you too! I mean I am writing songs with him, do you know how many lovesick lyrics he has written lately? It is making me sick." she laughed.

"Well, he might have written them about someone else. Maybe you? You two have amazing chemistry."

Julie sighed and grabbed both of your shoulders so she could look at you.

"Y/N, honey. Believe me when I say he is head over heels for you. Why else would he want you to be at our gig so much?”

„Luke is literally so passionate about music? Of course he wants to share it with me, cause he wants to share it with everyone.”

„Ahg, girl you need glasses cuz you can't see shit. Look, if prove he likes you too will you believe me?”

„Sure. I mean you can’t prove something that is not true but, sure go ahead, ’prove it’.”

Julie rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to respond but luckily for you the bell rang.

“See you later, alligator!” and with that you were off to class, leaving Julie alone to work on her master plan.

She knew she had to pull this off because the mutual pinning was unbearable but she also knew she couldn't do it alone. She'll need all the help she can get and that includes Flynn and the rest of her ghost band.

You changed into your leggings and sweatshirt before heading into the gym where the dance practice took place. You were quite bumped. Don't get me wrong dancing is everything to you but.. You really did want to see the guys perform.

You and the other kids were warming up, waiting for your teacher to start showing the choreography. But neither of you expected what she did next. Much to your surprise Reggie and Alex appeared next to her and started messing with her water bottle before you could even open your mouth.

For a moment no one acknowledged what was going on. Some were too busy chatting and warming up and Ms Janett was too busy with her phone. The two ghosts seemed to have noticed that and after exchanging a knowing smirk they grabbed the phone out of your teachers hands. She perked up, a mixture of anger and confusion on her face. And then… she saw her own phone floating in tin air.

“Stop!!” you whisper shouted in the boys direction but they only gave you a smirk before Reggie started searching for the music player application. Alex pointed over Reggie’s shoulder.

“Uuu, play that one.”

And as soon as the Lady Gaga song started playing Ms Janett let out a scream causing everyone to look up. You saw the boys dancing with the phone and the pompoms in their hand (although you have no idea where Alex got those pompoms) but everyone else just saw those items moving by themselves.

“GHOOOST!!! Everybody RUUUUUUN!”

Some people followed the teacher, some stayed behind to take a closer look only to be scared away by a flying pompom.

“What the heck are you two doing?” you turned to them,being rather angry, once you were the only living person in the gym. Seriously, what were they thinking?

“We cleared your afternooon! You can come to our concert!” Reggie exclaimed and put down the phone.

“Do you think I would go after this fiasco you just pulled??” you were definitely angry now.

“Oh come on, if not for us then for Julie..and for Luke.”

You snapped your head in Alex's direction at the mention of Luke’s name.

“What do...No. Don’t try to divert the topic. What you did was incredebly stupid! What if.. What if someone connects the dots and figures out that Julie’s hologram band is actually a ghost band? There will be scientist and ghost busters and-”

“Shh, Y/N jeez, calm down. it will be okay. We’ll see you at the show.”

And they poofed away. They simply left you alone with your thoughts. You need to come up with some kind of explanation for the dance class but right now you need to go home and change. The boys were right, even if they kinda (really) caused a mess here you still like them and don’t want to miss seeing them live ((Winky face)).

Meanwhile you were sorting through your dresses and outfit options. Julie and the band arrived at the venue for rehearsal.

Usually it was Luke who hyped Julie up before shows but right now the roles were switched because Luke looked like a kicked puppy ever since he learned you wouldn’t be able to make it to their gig. Of course Julie knew you will be here, as she was the one to send the boys to scare away your teacher. It was all part of her little plan.

Like mentioned Luke wrote half a dozen songs, all centered around his feelings for you. He stated to Jules that he will definitely not play them for you because there is just no way you like him back, but now Luke thinks you won’t be there so Julie is on the next step of her genius plan. Convince Luke to play one of his love songs.

“Luke, Lukey-poo, my man.” she started getting more and more cringy. “I thought we could close with Hero and Heroine? I know you said you don’t want to play it but it is such a great song, you definitely shouldn’t let it be just another forgotten song that stays on a piece of paper. Plus it is perfect for closing, think about it!”

“Julie...I-I told you I don’t wanna play it.”

“You told me you don’t wanna play it in front of Y/N, which would be the whole point of writing love songs to her but that's besides the point right now. Pleeassee?”

Luke took a deep breath and looked at his ghost mates for...What for? Support? Advice? He is not sure. He does want to play the song, pour out his emotions through the song but the question is..should he? He knows you can’t be here which both makes him wanna play the song and not at the same time.

“I agree with Julie, dude.” Alex said, shrugging his shoulder like he knew of nothing. Reggie nodded along.

“Okay..If you all think I w-”

Julie stood up and clapped her hands together.

“Cool! It is settled. I’ll need to make a phone call, brb.”

“Barbeque?” asked Reggie confused. Which made Alex laugh.

“Brb actually means be right back. Willie told me.” the blond made his way over to Luke and gently punched his shoulder. “Really Luke, that song is great. And I know you think there is no way Y/N would like you back but I am sure if she could hear it-”

“I’m a ghost, Alex! I can’t just confess to her, how are we gonna date? We can’t even touch.”

“That is totally not the reason. You are afraid she would decline your affection, I get it, but believe me I have seen her look at you. That longing in her eyes when I mention your name. She likes you.”

Luke rolled his eyes.

“Not that it matters, she won't hear the song and that is my final say in this.”

As soon as Julie stepped out of the small, cigarette smelling backroom she dialed your number. You picked up after two rings.

“Hi, Jules.”

“Hi girl, I heard what the boys did, I am so, so sorry. You know they are idiots.”she said trying real hard not to laugh but she reminded herself of her plan and pulled on her poker face.”But..Are you coming to the show? Flynn could pick you up; she is about to get going.”

“Yeah I’ll come, tell the boys I will call my teacher and say it was a prank so they can thank me for saving their ghostbutts.”

Julie giggled and started playing with her hair.She walked up and down the small corridor that led to the stage from the backroom.

“I will, I better get back and warm up but you should call Flynn so she won’t leave without you.”

Of course Flynn wouldn’t leave without you. She was waiting in her car two blocks from your home waiting for your phone car.

She didn’t have to wait long, you called her and she pretended to not expect it. Flynn kinda became your and Julie’s driver ever since she got her driver's license last month.

By the time the two of you got to the venue the opening was playing their last song and the place was already packed with dancing teenagers. Flynn dragged you to the bar and asked for a cola for herself and a (favourite drink) for you.

The two of you hung back and sipped your drinks until Julie appeared on the stage. Then you took Flynn by the hand and started pulling her toward the stage. Only she held you back.

"Hey, what's up? Don't we wanna go and watch them from closer?"

"Oh, well, uhm...I'd rather hang back. The crowd kind of makes me anxious right now." Flynn said. You lifted an eyebrow at her. Flynn being anxious? In a crowd?? That did not convince you. But you didn’t argue.

"Do you need to step outside a little or…"

"Nah, it's good, let's just stay here in the back."

So you did. You sang and danced along to the songs you both knew so well. You tried your best not to stare at Luke too much but let’s be honest you failed miserably. Flynn occasionally wiggled her eyebrows at you when she caught you ‘drooling over him’ as she put it.

After they finished playing Stand Tall you expected them to bow and ‘disappear’ but much to your surprise Julie grabbed the mic and brought it to her lips.

“Hello, hello, helloo! Do y’all wanna hear one more song?” the audience erupted into a loud cheer. It was so heartwarming to watch. Julie doing what she was born to do, playing music and enchanting the crowd. Flynn seemed to have the same thought because she looked at her with such pride. You pulled her into a big hug and the two of you waited for the crowd to quiet down so Jules could go on.

“Allright, allright. Now this song will be a bit different but...I will let Luke here tell it.”

You just became more and more surprised when Luke stepped closer to the mic and spoke into it, looking kinda...nervous?

“Ohm..Hello everyone! So uh..This song is dedicated to a special someone, the songs called-”

“What’s the special someone’s name?” your eyes travelled to Reggie who asked the question with a huge grin. Luke turned to look at the bassist. If looks could kill Reggie would be double dead. But before Luke could give a voice to his disapproval towards Reggie’s question Julie spoke up.

“Yeah! What’s the name?” she turned towards the crowd and started chanting. “What’s the name?”

Soon Reggie and Alex joined with smiles painted on their faces along with the audience. You were so freaking confused. You looked at Flynn for some explanation but how would she know about it.

“OKAY, okay, stop!” Luke yelled before laughing a little. “All right I will tell you guys but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone?”

All of a sudden you felt sick and wanted to get out of here. You were so not in the mood to hear Luke declare his love for someone.

“This song is dedicated to..To Y/N. Unfortunately she wouldn't be here today but..she is an amazing person. Hope you all like the song.”

He...He couldn’t be talking about you, could he?

He started strumming his guitar and soon Reggie joined in with the bass and Alex with the drums. Jullie clapped her hands together and kept sending encouraging looks for the boy.

“It's too late baby, there's no turning around, I've got my hands in my pocket and my head in a cloud, this is how I do, when I think about you,I never thought that you could break me apart,I keep a sinister smile and a hole of my heart” he sang into the mic, his voice filling in the whole club “You want to get inside, then you can to get in line but not this time”

“'Cause you caught me off guard, now I'm running and screaming!” Julie joined in for the line“I feel like a hero and you're my heroine.”

“I won't try to philosophize, I'll just take a deep breath and I'll look in your eyes, this is how I feel and it's so so real I got a closet filled up to the brim with the ghosts of my past and the skeletons, and I don't know why, you'd even try but I won't lie” Luke sang and you finally realised what was going in. He wrote this song. For you. You looked over to Flynn who nodded towards the stage and mouthed ‘go’.

I feel like a hero and you are my heroine. Do you know that your love is the sweetest sin?

You started making your way towards the stage, slipped through the cracks between dancing people and singing fans. The further you got the harder it was to get through but you heard Luke’s voice and you kept going.

And I feel a weakness coming on, never felt so good to be so wrong. Had my heart on lock down and then you turned me around

And I’m feeling like a new born child..

You finally break through a few screaming girls and see him.

“-Every time I get a chance to see you smile. It’s not complicated, I’m so jaded.” Luke sings and looks at the audience and- He spots you. Looking up at him with eyes wide open and admiration on your face. His voice cracks because of the sudden surprise of your presence but you smile at him and that is all he needs to continue.

“And you caught me off guard...Now I’m running and screaming”

He sang the song with such passion that even if you weren’t before now you were absolutely sure this wasn’t just a simple crush.

When they finished you didn’t waste a lot of time, you ran backstage, quickly waving your vip ticket. You almost run into Julie on your way to the door of the backroom.

“Who- Y/N!”

“This was your doing, wasn’t it?” you smiled at her already knowing the answer. She flashed a toothy grin.

“Well I had a great team behind me but yeah, Operation FiL was my idea.”

“Phil?” you ask back .

“No, no. F i L. Fools in Love. Now go get ‘im tiger!”

You shook your head and entered the backroom. Luke stood with his back facing you but as soon as he saw you in the mirror he spinned around. For a moment you forgot he was a ghost and ran to give him a hug.

“Y/N, no-” he put his hands out so he could catch you, simply out of reflex but he didn’t expect to actually hold you in his arms. You both looked at each other with eyes as wide as a 6 lane highway.

“How can I-”

“Do you care?” you closed the little distance between the two of you and pressed your lips against his. They were just as soft as you imagined oh, so many times before. He kissed back gently, afraid that this is just a dream. But this was definitely too real to be a dream. You unfortunately had to pull back to catch your breath but Luke looked leaned closer to press his forehead against yours.

“The song was so beautiful, I loved it.” you whisper. He just stared at you with a smile.

“If I knew you would kiss me, I would have played it a long time ago.” you giggled and brought your lips together for one more kiss. He let his hands wander this time but so did you. Your fingers ran through his brown hair, this being something you wanted to do for so long. He kept one hand on your waist and placed the other on the side of your face.

Your lips moved so in sync like you’ve been doing this all your lives. You were so drawn to each other, you felt like you couldn’t pull away in that moment even if you tried. Like this invisible magical force just glued the two of you to-

“Okay, that is enough! Get out I need to change!” Julie brusted in causing Luke to jump up and cling to you like Scooby Doo.

“Wow, you are so brave.''you laughed rolling your eyes at. “Come on, let’s leave alone Julie. We’ll meet ya at the car?”

Jules nodded and sent a wink in your way. You walked outside, both of you grinning like idiots.

“So uhm...Does this make us, Us?”

“Yeah. I mean if that’s what you want too.” you look at your shoes and bite your lower lip waiting for his answer.

“There’s nothing I want more.” he said. “Oh well..maybe another kiss wouldn’t be so bad either..”

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson oneshot #Julie and the phantoms one shot #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp luke x reader #sunset curve imagine #aliasimagines

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tenderdean · 4 years

Text

i was talking to @andromedaskyline about how we just know whatever this ending is gonna be will be—well, a punch to the gut at best, but then it got us thinking about what kind of ending we want for dean and listen. listen.

when all is said and done, dean is alive and well, and he drives off into the sunlit horizon, and at the end of that road after however much time he needs to recover—

he starts a halfway house.

a halfway house for hunters, yes, but mostly for kids.

kids like claire and krissy and josephine, and alex and patience. kids that fell out of their normal lives and into hunting, with no feasible way back out. kids like dean.

it’s a place to crash and recuperate, where there’s a roof over their heads and a bed to call their own and a food-stocked pantry (it never runs low. dean never lets it run low.) but also: a waypoint.

dean’s still got sonny’s number, and if there’s one person who can help a kid find a future or a family or a purpose, it’s sonny. (it’s also dean—but he’s not used to advertising himself; it’ll always feel like overselling.) he sits up late at night working through college applications, scholarship applications, to help these kids through the nightmare that is lying convincingly on paperwork. he teaches these kids all the things he had to learn by his lonesome: how to cook, how to clean and mend clothes and treat wounds and hustle pool without getting decked in the face. and if they’re set on hunting—and he gets it, he does, because retiring was never an option for him when there’s lives to be saved, and he knows how—then he rolls up his sleeves and he teaches them.

hunters are a special kind of people, too rebellious for their own good, but he knows not to push. anyone can leave, but anyone can also stay. and when they do, he’s got things to tell them: the fastest way to decapitate a vamp and torch a wendigo, where to park their getaway car, which weapons to always have on hand and which to leave in the motel room, never to leave a case too early to miss something or late enough for the cops to get you. who to call when they do. basic skills, survival skills, but there’s nothing basic about them anymore when they’ve amounted to his entire life and he’s perfected them, had to perfect them to stay alive through it all.

he’s seen things, butted heads with things that go unmentioned in even the thickest of lore books, and he makes sure they know how to take all of them down, or else how to sweet-talk it back where it came from. he makes sure every kid knows the vampire antidote by heart. he also tells them about purgatory, and to think hard before mercy-killing anything into an existence of blood-slash-blood-no-rest-no-peace. some things can save themselves: if they want to, let them, but make sure they follow through. it’s about the saving, not the killing, and if the two of them become muddied you have to save yourself first.

dean has a bed for you, in that case. a bed and a mean burger and an ear tilted in your direction.

sometimes, sam calls: dean lets it go to voicemail, and that’s a gift to them both. dean will leave a voicemail of his own, in time. he’ll talk for however long he wants to, about whatever he wants to, answers the questions he likes and doesn’t answer those he doesn’t. talks about the kids, all the time, about how much he wishes he could’ve done this for kevin. there’s no interrupting in voicemail, no pointed glares, and the new routine is maybe the healthiest they’ve ever had.

he still goes out on hunts, as a teaching outing with the kids or to let off steam or because it’s an all hands on deck sort of thing. he can’t let himself get rusty, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t indulge: memory foam on his bed, a monthly road trip in the Impala planned and followed through with, a nice, slim pair of new boots perhaps more often than he needs. it’ll take a while, but someday in the future, he even goes to the beach. leaves the united states to do it, and comes back toasty and bug-bitten and about fifty tons lighter by way of his soul.

it evolves, as kids leave and new ones come in, because no one can leave dean’s house without his number. it becomes a hub. dean makes sure there’s a weapons arsenal in the garage, stakes of various obscure woods and silver bullets by the thousand and machetes besides. they’re all for borrowing—he’ll get new ones if some don’t return. the rest of the garage is divided: the impala and all that’s needed for her upkeep, and a workbench, a visor, a torch. he works on side-projects. lets his inner inventor out to play. EMFs that can detect hex bags, glasses that fracture the light just weirdly enough that no ghost can slip past the wearer unnoticed.

that’s how, in ten years, he’ll reinvent the Colt. he makes as many bullets as he can, and it’s expensive, slow work, but it’s the largest ace any of them have ever had up their sleeves and he wants it to be available to anyone who needs it.

knowledge isn’t something to hoard, not when it can save lives. and fuck if holding the world together with his bare hands more than once, more than twice, didn’t leave him with some unconventional wisdoms, some hard-earned truths and bits of trivia that could never end up being useful but also very well could. he’s prepared for that. makes sure his kids are prepared, too.

it’s not just the kids anymore, though, not when the hunters among them have branched out and met other hunters and the world knows his name, anyway, for all kinds of reasons, good and bad. his is not a name that slips someone’s mind when it’s mentioned in passing. hasn’t been for a long, long while, and that was never a good thing until this: until it just grows around him, not murder-plots or resentment or a heathy dose of fear of being associated with him, not like a snare drawing tight but a garden. (he keeps one, out back. hasn’t really got that much of a knack for it, but some of the kids like ripping roots out of dirt, and hell, so does he.)

it’s not replacing bobby. he doesn’t pretend to be the FBI superintendent or social services or someone’s lawyer, not when he’s not out there in a suit. when a phone rings, the person on the other end always knows his name.

it starts out messy, and it’ll always be messy, but it becomes more structured as they go. a demon case comes in: they’ve got people specializing in that, send them out. a rugaru: the same. and if it’s something that’s truly Out There, they send dean, and he’ll handle that. when he comes home, he’ll make sure that next time, it won’t be just him who knows what to do.

some kids start penning down comprehensive lore books, his dad’s journal with the volume turned up, with only the stuff that’s true and none of the fluff, the muddied waters. dean contributes to that more than he expects, at first, and suddenly they’re crowding and crawling around him, eager for his input. turns out he has a lot to say.

not enough for the kids, though, it seems, because they keep sneaking carver edlund’s books into the house when he has banned them, has made it a bold point on his penned-down list of house rules. he finds them stuffed under mattresses and as pdfs on phones. he burns what he can. but he also says, okay, all right, i’ll write a fucking memoir if that’s what it takes to get you people to stop smuggling this trash in. and he lays down the basics: azazel’s plot and meddling angels, an apocalypse or two, what’s there besides the earth and how to make sure you never go there. nothing warranting gaudy pulp covers with half-naked men on them. if anyone wants to know which brother did what, they’ll have to be damn good at reading between the lines, because dean’s too over it to point fingers, especially not when his words might stick around for other generations to read and judge and point their own. he doesn’t put his name on it. leaves it anonymous.

what he doesn’t count on are the notes in the margins, the whispered conversations after dinner or the glances he’ll get: that he’s the hero of that story, he’s just too humble to write it down.

he only yells about that once.

in the end, it’s like this: there’s no american men of letters, but there’s people of action, and they all cluster around the heart of the country where the drive is about the same to each coast, and at the heart of that is dean.

in the very, very end, it’s like this: his memoir goes into print, and there’s a preface telling his name in bold letters, and clarifying the details he had made sure to leave extra vague. if you’re in a roadhouse bar somewhere—and there’s more of them now, run by those who wouldn’t stay but wouldn’t leave, either—there’s a solid chance you’ll run into a dean or deanna or ten, and they can tell you exactly who they were named after and why.

but right now, it’s just a chance, something to build out of nothing, something he wishes he had back when. something to turn his north towards, to pour all his strengths in that have grown from pain and weakness. they do always say the best leaders are those who never wanted to lead. out of all the rubble, something that’ll hold up without him there to keep it together, though he’s the heart that beats in it, anyway. he’s the home it grew up in.

#dean winchester deserves better #we both spitballed this into this huge wonderful thing #and it helped so much. so had to share #text #prose #fic

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legionofpotatoes · 3 years

Note

I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.

#anon #asks #long post #sorry I cant actually condense ideas better :(

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 3 years

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Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Teen-ish, some references of sexual activity, but nothing explicit.

Trigger Warnings: None

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 10/16 (all chapters)

The last time you were in UA this late, you had given Shouta a faceful of pepper spray.

You shuddered as you swiped your ID and headed inside with Hizashi, still not sure you believed that any of this was real.

Only a matter of hours ago, you had been soaking in his bathtub, enveloped in far, far too many bubbles. You could still smell them against your skin, still feel the telltale ache between your thighs from your earlier activities.

Even as you strode through the corridors, Hizashi’s touches ghosted your body. You could still feel the tickles from where he had gotten down on his knees to fasten your shoes for you, the way he had stroked your hair and lulled you into sleep.

In many respects, you felt guilty. Hosu had burned while you paid for doughnuts. People had been grievously wounded while you cried out in pleasure. You had fallen asleep with your head on Hizashi’s chest while children came face to face with a serial killer.

Rationally speaking, you knew that there was nothing you could have done. You might have worked at UA but that didn’t change the fact that you were a civilian. Even if you had been on the scene, you would only have gotten in the way, but that knowledge did nothing to ease the pangs of guilt.

Several of the other teachers had already gathered in the conference room generally reserved for staff meetings. Several of them, including Shouta, had plainly come straight from patrolling the streets. Others, such as Cementoss, had been disturbed from sleep and still not quite woken up. Nezu sat at the head of the table, resting his head on his hands with a grave expression, while All Might paced the room, no doubt concerned for Midoriya.

You heard Shouta long before you saw him.

“This is bullshit and you know it.”

He was leaning against the wall, arms folded and looking furious, though where exactly that anger was directed you couldn’t be sure.

“Yo, yo, yo!” Hizashi called out as you entered the room. “Did someone call for a party?!”

Everyone turned to look in your direction, several rubbing their temples at the sudden noise. Shouta‘s eyes darted from you to Hizashi, plainly joining the dots.

You took in the stern faces and heavy atmosphere, before clapping your hands together.

“I’m going to make some coffee.”

~~~~

It took around half an hour for the rest of the faculty to arrive, by which time everyone had either taken a seat at the table or positioned themselves somewhere in the room. You sat down a few chairs down from Nezu, between Vlad and Hizashi. Shouta stayed on his feet, visibly agitated.

“I’ve called you all here to discuss the events in Hosu city,” said Nezu at last. “I’m sure you’ve all seen the news by now… but for those of you who haven’t…”

He pressed a button on the desk, switching on the enormous television screen behind him. You winced at the footage of Hosu shining like an inferno.

“Earlier this evening, the Hero Killer Stain was taken into police custody,” he said. “I’m sure you are all aware of his troubling history.”

Just about everyone had heard of the Hero Killer. He was responsible for the deaths of multiple heroes, as well as the critical injuries of many more. For most, he was a boogeyman.

“Recently, the hero killer struck in Hosu city, permanently disabling the hero Ingenium, also known as Iida Tensei,” said Nezu, “or, perhaps more importantly, the older brother of 1-A student Iida Tenya.”

You folded your arms and glanced at Shouta out of the corner of your eye, remembering a conversation you had had a week before.

You hadn’t talked much after he told you everything Hizashi liked, though that in itself wasn’t too far out of the ordinary. Shouta wasn’t a talkative person even when his schedule was forgiving.

He had knocked on your office door a little after lunch and sank down into the chair opposite your desk, arms folded and with a stony expression.

“Iida,” he had said, dropping a file on your desk. “I want you to speak to him.”

Earlier that day he had received a phone call from Iida’s mother, who was distressed to say the least about what had happened to the older of her sons. She had wanted UA to be aware of his situation and forgiving of any strange behaviour over the next few weeks. The worst case scenario would result in time off school.

Tenya would have needed counselling even without the grave circumstances of Tensei’s injuries and you met with him twice after the sports festival, though he had little interest in opening up. He thanked you for your concerns in the respectful manner you had come to expect from him, though shut down any attempt to discuss how he truly felt.

You and Shouta had both been concerned for him, though limited in exactly how far you could intervene. Never had it been more apparent than when he submitted his internship application. Shouta arrived in your office again, suspicious of the reasoning behind Tenya’s agency of choice, though Tenya himself denied any ulterior motives. Neither you nor Shouta had the power to deny him his agency of choice after both sides had agreed and so he had gone to work with Manual, now confirming all of your worst fears.

“Tonight, three of our students faced off against the hero killer, acting independently without the authority of their supervisors,” said Nezu. “Currently, we have only limited information available, but I do know that these students are Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya and Todoroki Shoto.”

As the daughter of a prosecutor, you knew without having to ask that this was a serious situation.

Even before you knew how to read and write, you understood the basics of hero law. Your father had decided all of his children would be lawyers and every family meal swiftly turned into a game of rapid fire questions.

“Could it be,” you said, “you’re going to expel them?”

Nezu sighed, resting his head on his hands.

“The incident is currently under investigation,” he said, “but that is a likely outcome.”

“And I’m telling you, it’s bullshit,” said Shouta. “What’s the point in training heroes if we punish them for acts of heroism?”

“The laws on this matter are quite clear,” said Nezu, “albeit short sighted. If three of our best students are expelled, not only will our reputation suffer greatly but it will quickly feed into the rhetoric of villains. For heroes to be punished for saving lives...well...doesn’t that only add fuel to the argument that modern hero society encourages grandstanding more than it does justice?”

“Is there nothing we can do?” Hizashi piped up. “Character references, that sort of thing?”

“Unfortunately, our hands are tied. At present the case is in the hands of the authorities,” said Nezu, “and heroes in general cannot interfere with the law. We can only hope that they reach a favourable conclusion.”

“We do need a plan of action, though,” said Nemuri. “If the students are formally charged, there’ll be reporters halfway around the block by sunrise.”

“We’re currently lacking critical information,” sighed Nezu. “Any action we take now would be based on pure hypotheticals.”

You chewed your thumbnail and watched the television, watching as the hero killer took several steps towards Midoriya.

“For a case this severe,” you said, “it’ll go all of the way to the top, likely overseen by the Chief of Police...”

“I imagine so.”

“In that case,” you said, “I think it’ll be okay.”

All eyes fell on you and heat rose in your cheeks.

“Uh, a-a-a-a-at least that’s my opinion!”

“No,” said Nezu, “go on.”

“Well,” you said, thinking back to your father’s dinner table quizzes, “I’m not too sure how to put this...hmm...but for a case like this, there’s a burden of proof. It’s not enough that they happened to be there at the time. You need proof that they each broke the law; that they each individually ignored orders and attacked Stain without permission. This would mean verifying wound patterns, collecting eyewitness reports, taking testimonies from all involved...”

You turned to look at the television, a grim expression across your face.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that of all of the footage of this incident, we’ve only ever seen that one looping video of Stain right before he collapsed? Considering everything happening in Hosu at the time, doesn’t it seem just a little bit likely that that is the only footage? Why haven’t they mentioned eyewitnesses?”

“Stain is known for keeping to the shadows,” said Nemuri. “It’d make sense for him to choose a place away from the public eye, with very few security cameras and minimal chances of being disturbed...which in this instance would work in our favour…”

“And if we consider the students’ quirks,” said Shouta, “Midoriya’s quirk is strength based, Iida’s is speed based, Todoroki’s consists of fire and ice…”

“...and we already know the city was burning,” said Hizashi, “there’s footage of Endeavour at the scene…”

“And Gran Torino,” said All Might. “His quirk is speed based. If we take into account Endeavour’s physical strength and fire, as well as Gran Torino’s speed...then all we have to account for is Todoroki’s ice...”

“...and it’d be difficult to prove either way that it was used to attack as opposed to defend. It’s likely at least one of them has injuries from Stain’s blade,” said Vlad.

“In the chaos of the overall incident, only the students and their supervisors can definitively say they ignored instructions,” said Cementoss. “So we just need to rely on Todoroki, Midoriya and Iida to play it smart.”

All eyes fell on Shouta.

He sighed.

“We’re screwed.”

~~~

You stayed on site for a few hours after that, going over contingency plans until Hizashi offered to walk you home. If tonight had taught you nothing else, it was how dangerous the streets could be and so you were only too happy to take him up on it. Not to mention, you wanted to have a frank discussion about how you were going to proceed now that you’d slept together.

“Is it always like this?”

“Hmm? Like what?”

You gazed up at the sky and stifled a yawn, taking note of the sunrise. To say tonight hadn’t gone as planned was an understatement.

“Ever since I came here,” you said. “It feels like there’s been one drama after another.”

“I think,” said Hizashi, booping your nose, “the universe saved it all just for you.”

You laughed at that, for he had no idea just how right he actually was. You had already slept with a coworker by your second day.

“Hey, hey you guys!”

Heels clattered against the tarmac and Nemuri threw her arms around you both. She was as dressed up as you were and you remembered grimly what Hizashi had said to you outside of Les Papilles , which was only a few hours ago, but felt like decades.

You kinda put us in the mood for French food.

Hizashi hadn’t gone to Les Papilles alone and, given he and Nemuri already had plans to hang out that evening, it made sense that they would have gone together.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” said Hizashi with a smirk, “where’ve you been?”

“Asking all of the wrong questions, Mic,” she said, letting go of both of you. “Where haven’t I been?”

She reached up to cup your face and squeeze your cheeks.

“I have something for you,” she said.

“Iv it a glath of wine?”

“No, something way better!”

Nemuri took a step back and rummaged in her bra, leaving you a heady mix of intrigued and nervous. She pulled out a slip of paper and handed it over, eyes bright with excitement. You unfolded it, trying not to think about how warm it was.

It was a receipt from a pricey jewellery store for an equally pricey engagement ring. You reached into your purse, feeling around until your fingers landed on smooth metal. You dragged out the ring and read the receipt, matching up the item to the description.

“This...this is,” you said, eyes wide. “How did you get this?”

“I have my ways.”

You couldn’t look away from the price at the bottom; Akira must have chosen the most expensive one in the store. With that sort of money, you could pay your rent several times over and still have enough left to buy several ordinary engagement rings.

“This…I...”

You were more than a little bit overwhelmed. You had known Nemuri and Hizashi only a few months and yet they’d done so much for you.

How would the night have gone without them?

Would you have spent another 45 minutes in the shower like you did the day he dumped you?

Your eyes welled with tears and threw your arms around both of them, murmuring your thanks over and over. Nemuri stroked your back, Hizashi stroked your hair and for a moment all was right in the world, the Hosu incident and Akira’s cruel words at the back of your mind.

Only one thing could have made it better, you considered, heart skipping a beat at the sound of Shouta’s voice only a moment later.

“The hell did you two do?”

You supposed from an outsider’s perspective, it wasn’t immediately obvious that your tears were happy ones and you took a step back, meaning to reassure him that everything was okay. Hizashi got there before you, though, reaching an arm towards him.

“Ahh, Sho,” called out Hizashi, “come on, we’re having a moment. Group hug!”

“No.”

“Come into my arms, Eraser,” purred Nemuri.

“Never gonna happen.”

“Aw c’monnnnnnn.”

“No. I’m leaving.”

He turned to go and you untangled yourself from the hug, still rubbing the tears from your eyes as you picked up your pace and followed him, looping your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his back. He peered over his shoulder, visibly bewildered, though didn’t pull away.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “thank you.”

“What for?”

You considered it, struggling to settle on one singular thing.

You remembered standing in front of your bathroom mirror with a pair of kitchen scissors and drugstore hair dye; remembered the emergency salon trip that swiftly followed. You remembered the expressions of shock as you handed in your resignation at your previous job; the excitement and hope you had felt on your first day at UA.

You remembered Akira’s words outside of Les Papilles .

Who else is going to want you?

You knew he had only said that to hurt you and in another life it would have knocked you for six. Now, though, it was clear to you that he was only repeating the same words you had told yourself every day since your first date.

Shouta was supposed to have been a one night stand and could so easily have been a costly mistake, but had instead been a turning point. He wanted you when it mattered, even if your encounter had only been sex. Until then you hadn’t known how it felt to be desired, didn’t know what it was like to be wanted without putting on some sort of mask. All of your life you had twisted and turned to become the person others needed. Shouta, though, had wanted you when all he knew was your name.

You didn’t know how to thank him for that.

Instead you said something else; something that gave him goosebumps and sent the tension from his body; something that brought crooked smiles to Hizashi and Nemuri’s face when they overheard it.

Something that, though none of you knew it then, Shouta would replay in his mind in the weeks to come.

~~~~~

As you embraced Shouta, everything falling into place, Masayama Akira woke up in cold sweats. His head pounded, his feet were numb and he realised, as he rubbed his temples, that he had no idea where he was.

He stumbled to his feet and glanced at his surroundings: the sky overhead and cold breeze. His heart skipped a beat when he realised he was at the top of a skyscraper with no shoes or jacket.

“What the f-,” he mumbled, hobbling towards the door.

He remembered only vague details of the night before, of getting down on one knee and eating dinner with another woman; a woman he had gotten drunk with and spent the night ranting to over beers.

“She’s nothing,” he remembered saying, holding up his beer for a toast. “I’m better without her.”

“Akira,” the woman had cooed, “you’re so right. You need to rid yourself of her...and I know exactly where to start.”

She stroked a hand to his arm, so gently that it made him shiver.

“Did you, by any chance, keep the receipt for the ring?”

Akira sighed in despair as he reached for the door handle, remembering nothing after that. Perhaps he’d call her once he’d had coffee.

Unfortunately, Akira realised very quickly that he wouldn’t be getting coffee any time soon. The door to the building was sealed shut and wouldn’t give no matter how hard he yanked at it.

He cursed and reached into his pocket for his phone, only to curse louder at the realisation that he was too high up to receive any sort of signal.

This was, perhaps, the worst thing to ever happen to him, overshadowed only by the knowledge that even now, after everything, his instinct was to call you.

#aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #habanero #present mic x reader #hizashi yamada x reader

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rubykgrant · 3 years

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(I can’t stop writing about the idiots in love, so here; have Simmons and Grif being love-struck dorks in what leads-up to them having snuggle time~)

All day long, they couldn’t stop giggling. Even with the armor on, they could tell when they were looking at each other, and that was all it took. They would try to hold back, then wind up choking on their own laughter. Because, despite the helmets hiding their faces, and without saying anything, they could tell they were both thinking the same thing when they looked at each other; That’s my BOYFRIEND. It made them feel light-headed with happiness, weak in the knees, silly and embarrassed, delighted and undeniably fond. They couldn’t stop giggling.

When they weren’t together, they still had their heads in the clouds; Grif was in a noticeably more pleasant mood than usual when he had work to do. Nobody wanted to question it much, however… it might make him realize what was happening, and then he’d fall back into complaining. Simmons seemed distracted. He still managed to get his work done, so that was fine… he just wasn’t paying much attention to what anybody said to him. The people around them shrugged this off and decided to ignore them. Nobody pressed the issue, and nobody knew that Grif and Simmons were now boyfriends.

They passed each other in the hall at one point near the end of the day, both going somewhere else. People weren’t paying attention to him, but if they were, they would have seen Grif visibly BOUNCE up when he saw Simmons (who started grinning inside his helmet).

“Oh hey, Tomato Can!”

“Shut up! What are you, one of those giant cans of pumpkin mix?”

Simmons reached out, playfully smacking at Grif as he walked by, and Grif did the same. In the middle of the smacking, they also grabbed and pulled on each other’s hands briefly. The giggles finally broke free, and they both could hear the laughter fade away the farther they walked. One again, nobody questioned this much. Grif and Simmons acting stupid and laughing was pretty typical behavior. It certainly wasn’t different from how they usually were.

It was several hours later when it was finally time to be done with work for the day (the day, in fact, was mostly over; it was after 9:30 at night). Simmons immediately went to change out of his armor. He carefully put each piece into it’s storage place, and then tried to NOT look like he was rushing off to see Grif back at their room as fast as possible. Normally, he changed out of the undersuit as well, putting on something loose and comfortable to wear as he went back to his room... it used to make him incredibly self-conscious to bee SEEN by other people in something that was so form-fitting. He also used to change out of the armor in a stall, just like he did way back in high school for PE; changing in and out of his gym clothes where nobody could see him, and only showering after all the other kids were gone. Well, finding out somebody was in love with you was a major ego-boost. He could finish changing back in their room, he was more concerned with getting to see his boyfriend than other people seeing him in the halls (also… it didn’t hurt that over the years, muscles had happened. Simmons had no illusions that he was a “totally buff hottie” or something, but he had come to accept that he wasn’t half-bad looking).

They both had different meal-time schedules today, Grif coming into the mess hall just when Simmons was done for both lunch and dinner. They once again teased and nudged as they passed, giggling at what was now an inside-joke; they were together, and nobody here even knew it, nobody here knew what a big deal it was, nobody knew they were in LOVE. Grif hasn’t felt so silly and infatuated like this since he was basically a kid, and for Simmons this is entirely uncharted territory. He’s not worried though, because he’s going on this romantic journey with Grif… as far as Simmons is concerned, that is absolutely perfect.

As he power-walked briskly, Simmons heard the sound of heavy, rushed foot-steps running up the hall behind him. He turned to see who it was, and there was Grif; he’d only partially changed out of his armor, the upper-half. He still had it on from the waist down. Evidently, he was in too much of a rush to bother with everything. Grif grinned at Simmons when their eyes met, and now Simmons smiled back at him, slightly slowing down as he stayed turned toward Grif, momentarily walking backwards… Grif was so eager to see his boyfriend, he was actually RUNNING. Before Grif caught up to him, Simmons suddenly had and idea. He began to increase how fast he walked, turned forward again, and sprinted down the hall. Grif caught on immediately; this was now a race, and Simmons wanted to beat him back to the room.

Simmons was fairly certain he would win; he had a head-start, Grif detested moving this fast, and the guy still had armor on his legs to weigh him down.

He was proven wrong when he was suddenly yanked back a step by his shirt, causing him to stumble as Grif pulled ahead.

“AHH! Bitch!” Simmons yelled, catching himself against the wall and laughing as he resumed running.

“What was that? I can’t hear you back there!” Grif yelled in return.

It was fairly empty in the halls of the ship, a few other random people were leisurely walking around, some of them still in their armor for late-duty. Luckily, none of them were very familiar with Grif and Simmons, and simply assumed these were two rowdy friends running around after work. Which was technically true… but if anybody who was close to them saw this (the people who had spent years with them, for example), it would trike them as odd; Grif, actually RUNNING, when it wasn’t toward a buffet or away from something life-threatening? Simmons, breaking several rules (that nobody but him took seriously, but still) and making noise like he had absolutely no inhibitions? If their friends had also seen them earlier, spacing out, giggling at each other uncontrollably, and sighing dreamily… perhaps they would have suspected something. Nobody from their group was seeing this. The two of them continued their chase, laughing and taunting each other.

When Grif got to the door, he paused just barely long enough to reach for the handle… and then Simmons slammed into him, knocking Grif off-balance. Grif didn’t fall, but he missed a beat as Simmons jumped inside, and shut the door, letting out a sound that was some kind of shriek, a mix of panic and delight.

“Hey! Let me in, you cheater!” Grif banged on the door.

“You cheated first!” he heard Simmons reply.

“Yeah, and then you go and stoop to my level? Not very mature, Simmons! You’re supposed to a good boy who follows the rules!” Grif tried the handle and pushed… but the door only moved an inch. Simmons was pushing back, shoulder against it and feet braced firmly.

“Well, I’m a crazy, rebellious, wild-card now! Who knows what I’ll do next! I might rob a bank!” it was hard for both of them to make any progress with the door either way; they were out of breath from running AND couldn’t stop giggling.

“Yeah right! You’d go in, try to yell stick-em up like a little kid, then apologize for raising your voice, and walk out of there with a job application!”

“Nuh-uh! I told you, I’m a loose-cannon now! I’m gonna get a tattoo on my bicep that says Born To Die!” Grif’s knees were turning to jelly at the mental thought of this. It was just too funny. “I’ll start wearing a jean jacket with no shirt all the time! I’m gonna get a faux-hawk and dye my hair neon green! I’m gonna legally change my name to a swear word that’s spelled wrong, like Phuck with a P-H! I’ll pierce my ears and wear little padlocks like earrings!”

“Holy crap, shut up dude!”

“I’m gonna tell Sarge… that I’m on BLUE TEAM NOW!”

Grif collapsed against the door, sliding down as he tried to gasp for air. This was such a ridiculous thing to use as an example of rebellion; Sarge had finally come to terms with the fact that blue wasn’t the color of sin, and Simmons had already gone through a fake-traitor incident with Blue Team. It just didn’t matter anymore… that’s why it was hilarious.

“Sim-Simmons… please just- just let me in, please, I’m dying out here, hahaha!” Grif was reduced to begging, and just hoped Simmons had an ounce of mercy.

“Well… since you said PLEASE…” the door finally opened. Grif found the strength to jump back up and pounce on him.

He grabbed Simmons by the waist, lifting him up off the ground, kicking the door shut. They were both laughing again, and Grif was planning on tossing Simmons into a chair, then maybe flicking him on the forehead as pay-back for the shove earlier… but then they looked at each other. Grif’s arms shifted, now one was under Simmons, supporting him. The other slid up his back, between his shoulders. Simmons kept giggling, leaning back and completely trusting that Grif would hold him up, now slightly hugging Grif with his legs, his hands kneading into Grif’s shoulders. As Grif stared at Simmons’ face, noticing all sorts of little details (the way his organic eye seemed to be lit up with excitement right now, the way he was biting the corner of his lower lip as he smiled, the way his nose wrinkled in an entirely too adorable way each time he quietly snorted with laughter), something happened; Grif felt his mouth water, like it did when he was ready to eat something he knew would be delicious (like his favorite kind of milk chocolate).

He mentally told himself he better swallow all this extra saliva fast, because he was definitely about to kiss Simmons. If he wasn’t careful, a waterfall of drool would pour out of his mouth when he parted his lips, which Simmons would NOT enjoy, and then Grif would have to kill himself, because how pathetic was it to finally start dating the dude you’ve been pining after for about 12 years only to drown him in spit the same day, HORRIBLY pathetic, there was no recovery from that, Grif would simply have to not be alive anymore, and why the hell was this even HAPPENING, Simmons wasn’t CHOCOLATE, why was Grif like this, why was his brain so stupid, why was his MOUTH so stupid, why why WHY-

He gulped just in time. Now it was Simmons’ turn to pounce on Grif, hands slipping up into Grif’s hair, making a soft little sigh as Grif kissed him back.

This was… this was the first time since their conversation about being in love and deciding to date that they were… out of their armor (mostly). The first time they could press their bodies close together and actually FEEL each other. Grif forgot all about the way the muscles in his legs were twitching and ignored the way his lungs burned after all the running… his attention was on Simmons. It was pretty clear that Simmons was also entirely focused on Grif. After a moment, they moved their mouths away from each other, and Grif laughed as his face was peppered with more little kisses, stumbling across the tiny room while trying to find a spot to set Simmons down. He finally leaned Simmons over his own bed, letting him drop onto the mattress. It was a sudden motion, but Simmons didn’t go far, and he kept making amused humming sounds as he bounced when he hit the bed.

“You’d better get the rest of your armor off. Unless you want to sleep in it again,” he told Grif.

“Yeah, that uh… that’s probably a good idea… I’ll do that…” Grif said, feeling light-headed (and once more filled with butterflies).

He was fairly certain Simmons had no clue what he was doing right now… no clue how GOOD he looked, leaning back across the bed, propping himself up with his elbows, hair tousled and messy in kind of a really great way, looking up at Grif so intently, face flushed… all while Grif stood in front of him, stood right between Simmons’ legs that bent over the edge of the bed, feet on the floor… and LITERALLY told Grif to undress. No, Simmons had no clue what he was doing, OR what it was doing to Grif.

Grif stepped back, going over to his bed on the other side of the room (barely 5 feet away). He wasn’t sure if Simmons was going to watch him the whole time he changed… it shouldn’t be so embarrassing; they’d changed in the same room like, a thousand times. They’d shared showers together from training days, to Blood Gulch, and almost every place they stayed (Simmons was always the nervous one about that, making such a big deal about NOT LOOKING or avoiding being LOOKED AT). This was a little different now, though… boyfriends. They were BOYFRIENDS. Grif was suddenly very AWARE of this fact. Grif was also aware that the last time they actually gotten undressed around each other and... and touched... was Chorus (and THAT had all sorts of complicated feelings attached to it, which Grif was in no mood to try and process at the moment, nope).

#writing #red vs blue #dexter grif #dick simmons #grimmons

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chipper9906 · 3 years

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Heal The Cracks Within My Heart - Chapter 6: No More Tricks

<- - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 1 EPISODE 6 ‘FOR ALL TIME. ALWAYS.’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 8,958

Overall Word Count: 57,236

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (6/?)

Chapter Preview:

“Good to meet y’all,” Miss Minutes said with that unnerving smile, walking – but not really – across Mobius’s desk and over to Loki and Sylvie. “I’m sure you can’t wait to get to work protecting the sacred timeline!”

“Oh, simply ecstatic,” Loki said with as much sarcasm as he could fit into one sentence. “Something to finally give my pathetic life some meaning. How about you, Sylvie?”

“Like a dream come true…” Sylvie drawled.

“Great to hear!” This Miss Minutes was, apparently, incapable of picking up sarcasm.

Link To Fic

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* * *

One of the (few) good things about the sprawling size of the TVA was that there were often parts of it with no one in sight. It was on one of these floors, where the files hadn’t been disturbed for so long that they were collecting dust, that the Gods of Fate had smiled upon them and opened up the Time-Door into.

Mobius’s head was the first to peek through the Time-Door, looking both left and right down the miniature hallway. Once he had confirmed there was no one that had seen the Time-Door manifesting from nowhere, he waved both Loki and Sylvie through, before stepping fully back into his place of work.

“This feels so wrong,” Sylvie complains as they walk, tugging at the restricting dress shirt around her neck. Loki regards her from the corner of his eye, scanning up and down her body as he takes in her new uniform.

“It is a little weird seeing you without your armor.” Loki reaches out to tug at the lapels of her TVA blazer, grinning unabashedly when she smacks his hand away with a weak glare. “–But for the record, I think you look stunning whatever you choose to wear.”

“Oh dear God,” Mobius groaned dramatically in front of them, forcing Loki and Sylvie’s gaze away from each other and over to him. “Is your plan to just constantly flirt with each other to get me to find these files faster? Coz I’ve gotta say, it’s working.”

“It almost sounds like you’re eager to be rid of us,” Loki said, sounding almost offended. Almost.

“You’re both probably bearable on your own, but the two of you together?” Mobius shook his head. “Nightmares, the both of you. An insane amount of people exist out there in the Universe – now made even bigger with this whole mess you’ve made – countless amounts of variants you could have run into, but no, you had to go and find versions of yourself and hook up with them!”

“First of all, are you telling me you aren't a little bit curious to know what another variant of yourself would be like?” Sylvie asked, bringing Mobius to a grinding halt and turning to face them.

“No, actually. I'm not,” Mobius said in disbelief at her question. “I could have happily gone on with the rest of my life without ever thinking that, thank you. And now I know I won’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

“Give it a try,” Sylvie said, throwing a wink in Loki’s direction that nearly made Mobius groan out loud again. “And secondly… no one understands you better than yourself. We have our similarities – a few Loki traits that seem to stick no matter what form we take – but… we’ve both walked different paths. Genetically different, souls the same; but whilst they were formed the same, they’ve been molded by our experiences. So, whilst we may not see things the same way sometimes, at the end of the day, we just…”

“Understand each other,” Loki finishes for Sylvie with a tender smile.

“God, it really is like puppy love,” Mobius mumbled as he turned back around and continued onwards. “Feels like I’m watching a couple of teens trying to figure out how feelings work…”

“That’s… an apt comparison, actually,” Loki admitted as they both picked up the pace to keep up with Mobius, not wanting to get lost in the maze of TVA corridors. It was only occasionally that they walked through a section with a worker milling about the place, or saw an occasional Minute-Men either patrolling the area or simply passing through to wherever it is they had been ordered to go to.

“Things seem calmer than last time,” Loki noted. He wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad that the TVA wasn’t still freaking out about the whole multi-versal situation they had on their hands. Every now and then, as they passed through different corridors, Loki would see a flash of that horrific statue proudly displaying 'Him' as he stood over all his subjects. At least they knew now that Sylvie’s guess of being able to select a previously opened Time-Door and return them to the same TVA was correct…

“Things seem empty,” Mobius corrected him. “This place is usually bustling with activity -- and now it’s a ghost town. If we’ve dispatched most of our workers out into the field, then…” Mobius sighed deeply. “Things can’t be doing too well…”

Mobius came to a sudden stop as they rounded a corner, nearly walking straight into a TVA worker who had also been rounding the corner. The man blinked in surprise at Mobius, not even registering Loki or Sylvie behind him. The man pushed his glasses back up his nose, frowning at Mobius before looking somewhere behind him.

“Mobius? Where have you been? They’ve been looking everywhere for you, man. Judge Whittle’s about to blow a fuse if you don’t get down to his office stat.”

“Forgot I need to grab these guys,” Mobius lied smoothly, gesturing with a flick of his head back to Sylvie and Loki behind him. “They have some, uh… some research I asked them to collect for me that I think could be of some use.”

The man finally looked over to them, thankfully not looking too suspicious of them as his eyes darted between them both. “Right… Well, you better not keep Judge Whittle waiting. What with everything going on, I think he’s trying to hold onto some sense of time, and being late again might just snap his last thread.”

“That’s why I’m headed there now,” Mobius assured the man with a pat on his shoulder and a friendly smile. The man returned the smile, giving all three a respectful nod before walking past them and disappearing out of sight around another corridor. Mobius released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, fixing his already tidy tie as a force of habit.

“I have to say, you’re an excellent liar,” Loki commended Mobius. “Are you sure you’re not a variant of us, too?”

“God, I hope not,” Mobius retorted, continuing to lead them forward once more.

“Wait, hang on-,” Sylvie said, tugging at Mobius’s arm. “Did he say Judge Whittle?”

Mobius looked back to Sylvie with a confused frown. “…Yes?”

“What about Judge Renslayer? What happened to her?”

Mobius stopped outside of a stereotypical-looking office door, pausing with his hand on the door handle. “Judge who?”

Both Sylvie and Loki shared a look of surprise, strangely unsettled by the idea that Renslayer apparently didn't exist in this timeline. Or, at least, hadn't been taken from her life to work in the TVA. What other changes would they have to expect to come across in this timeline? And how much of an effect would each small change have?

"Doesn't matter," Sylvie told Mobius. "Just... someone we know from another timeline."

"And by 'know', do you mean 'have killed', or...?"

"Us personally? No," Loki answered. "But last we saw you — the other you — you were headed back to the TVA to give Renslayer our regards, so... we don't actually know what happened to her."

“Given my fighting skills? Nothing, probably,” Mobius guessed, yanking down on the handle and swinging the door open. It was only once Mobius had stepped inside and out of the way of the door that Loki noticed the little golden plaque attached under the little window, the name ‘M. Mobius’ etched into the metal.

“Come on. I don’t know how much time we have,” Mobius called them into the office. “Considering I’m expected in Whittle’s office, we probably don’t have long until someone comes to fetch me.”

“You have an office?” Loki said in surprise, stepping into the room with Sylvie close behind.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“The you I know never took me to his office,” Loki replied, glancing around the small space that had been allocated to Mobius. It looked… well, like everything else in the TVA, really: neat and organized, drab and boring; painted with soul-sucking colors that, at this point, reminded him of a prison.

“Maybe he didn’t have one.” Mobius dropped down onto a squeaky office chair, fiddling around with the buttons on one of those ridiculously bulky-looking computer monitors until it whirred to life. “I can’t imagine every variant of myself is good enough at their job for—”

“He was just fine at doing his job, actually,” Loki was quick to defend Mobius. Which was quite strange, as he was defending Mobius to… Mobius. “Managed to out-lie me a few times, which I can assure you is a tricky thing to do.”

“He was the only one of your bumbling workforce that was able to keep hot on my tail,” Sylvie joined Loki in defending Mobius, much to Loki’s surprise and… a little bit herself, if she was being honest. “I was able to stay one step ahead of him until he roped this idiot in—” Sylvie jabbed a thumb in Loki's direction. “—And he led you right to me.”

“To try and recruit you.” Loki now had to defend himself. “I wasn’t exactly a volunteer worker; it was work with them or be reset.”

“And here comes the old couple bickering…” Mobius mumbled under his breath. Before either Loki or Sylvie could point out that, whilst technically over a thousand years old, they were still considered young by Asgardian standards, Mobius had opened up some sort of application that brought up some virtual files in a holographic display.

Much to both Sylvie and Loki’s displeasure, these files were also accompanied by the cheery bright orange face of Miss Minutes. Sylvie barely restrained herself from unsheathing her sword hidden beneath her blazer and slicing the southern-speaking mascot in half like she desperately wanted to do back in the Citadel.

“Well, hey there!” Miss Minutes greeted them, sounding as chipper as ever. “Ooo, new faces! Do we have some new recruits, Mobius?”

“You could say that…” Mobius answered, brow pinched in concentration as he swiped through the seemingly endless amount of files in the TVA’s database.

“Oh, simply ecstatic,” Loki said with as much sarcasm as he could fit into one sentence. “Something to finally give my pathetic life some meaning. How about you, Sylvie?”

“Like a dream come true…” Sylvie drawled.

“Great to hear!” This Miss Minutes was, apparently, incapable of picking up sarcasm. “Is there something you needed my help with, Mobius?”

“Yeah, actually.” Mobius scratched across his upper lip, disheveling his neatly combed mustache. “I’m, uh… getting out new recruits up to speed with what they need to know about… about ‘Him’.”

“Have they had the talk yet?”

Loki wasn’t entirely sure why, but something about that question made him want to shiver off this layer of discomfort that seemed to coat him. At the same time, the last time someone had ‘the talk’ with him, he was unable to look his mother in the eyes for a good few days.

Mobius’s eyes flickered up from the monitor to Miss Minutes. “Yeah, they’ve had the talk; they know why they’re here.”

“Well okay then!” Miss Minutes chirped, crossing her arms behind her back with a gleaming smile. “Anything in specific you need me to find?”

“Yeah, any files we have on His TemPad,” Mobius said, wheeling himself back a bit from the desk and yanking open one of the drawers.

“Bit of an odd request,” Miss Minutes commented as she began flipping through the holographic files in front of them. Mobius continued digging through his desk, searching through different folders with a look of concentration. For a moment, Mobius’s hands stilled over something, but Miss Minutes' overexcited voice stole away their attention.

“Alright, here we go!” Miss Minutes flicked the holographic file through the air, and both Loki and Sylvie wore matching frowns as it disappeared from sight. The question of where it had gone was answered as Mobius pulled his TemPad out from his desk drawer with an “Ah-Ha!” of success, proudly waving the TemPad in their direction.

“Anything else you need me to do for you?” Miss Minutes asked, sounding both polite and… terrifying.

“Uh, no -- this’ll do.” Mobius returned Miss Minute's politeness with a smile of his own – even if it did appear quite forced and strained. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome!” Miss Minutes said before disappearing in a weird move where she seemed to fold into herself, all three in the room thankful for her absence.

“I never thought a cartoon clock mascot would make me fear for my life,” Loki said, still staring suspiciously at the space where Miss Minutes had vanished from.

“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here…” Mobius muttered, fingers dancing across the TemPad as he brought up the files Miss Minutes had just sent him. His eyes scanned rapidly across the screen, skipping to what seemed to be the most important segments of information.

“Interesting…” Mobius leaned forward against his desk, resting his head on his hand and tapping his index finger against his upper lip.

“What’s interesting?” Sylvie asked, not appreciating that she couldn’t see the information she needed, whilst knowing that it was right there in someone else’s hands.

“Oh, just how vastly superior that thing on your hand is to this,” Mobius answered, waving his TemPad around like it was now useless. “For one, the efficiency on that thing? From what I’m seeing, it’s probably… four or five times more so than ours?”

“So, you’re saying that this TemPad can do more before it runs out of battery?” Loki asks, pointing to Sylvie’s hand.

“Not that you even have to worry about that,” Mobius said with a disbelieving chuckle. “You noticed how that thing doesn’t have a port to charge it?”

Sylvie shot Mobius an annoyed look, crossing her arms across her chest. “Just how oblivious do you think I am?”

“Man, you guys really do find a way to turn people’s words into an insult against you,” Mobius noted, sounding almost amused by the revelation. “Is that a self-conscious thing, or…?”

Sylvie, on the other hand, did not look amused. “I’m good on the therapy session, thanks. You were saying about charging it?”

“Oh, au contraire -- I think therapy would be an excellent choice for you guys,” Mobius teased with a grin, which he quickly wiped off his face at the death stares he got in return. “Alright, alright. The thing about charging this TemPad is… well, that you don’t need to.”

“Come again?” Loki asked.

“From the looks of things, His version of the TemPad kind of… recharges itself?” Mobius struggled to find the best way to explain what he had just read. “Well, not entirely from itself. The TemPad makes a connection, if you will, with its owner. Or… master, I think would be a better word.”

Sylvie raised her hand up closer to her face, peering down at the TemPad. Almost on cue did its surface come to life, emitting a soothing hum as power ran through its complicated circuits.

“And… what does the connection do?” Sylvie asked, looking away from the TemPad back to Mobius.

“It uses you as its batteries,” Mobius answers. “It recharges through you. Your life force, your energy, whatever you wanna call it.”

“Uh, should we be worried about that?” Loki asked, just barely resisting the urge to yank the TemPad off Sylvie’s hand and throw it as far as he could at the thought of it draining away her life.

“Considering ‘He’ is still alive after eons of using it? No, I don’t think so,” Mobius assured them – although just barely. “At the end of the day, ‘He’ is human, just like us -- uh, well, me, anyway. Taking into account the fact that you guys are both demigods with access to magical powers, I’m pretty sure the TemPad will barely scratch the surface of your energy.”

“Then… how did it not affect ‘He Who Remains?’” Loki asked. “Something that needs that much energy… it has to take its toll.”

“Maybe you can ask him before you kill him,” Mobius suggests. “My best guess? ‘He’ probably needs to ‘recharge’ himself. You know: sleeping, eating; all that boring mortal stuff?”

“You say that like we don’t need to eat and sleep, too.” Sylvie retorts.

“Uh-huh. Still doesn’t change the fact that you’re gods. I mean, how old are you guys again?”

“Point taken,” Loki conceded on both their behalf. “How long does the TemPad take to charge, then?”

“Depends on how drained it is,” Mobius says, turning his attention back to the displayed file. “It’s charging all the time, so as long as you’re not opening up Time-Doors left, right, and center, it usually has enough power that you don’t even have to think about it. If you somehow do drain the power enough that it’s nearly empty then… from ‘His’ experiments, it seems it takes a day or so to get it back to full power.”

“Experiments?” Sylvie picked up on the word. “What kind of experiments?”

“Well, ‘He’ didn’t always spend his time behind a desk organizing the strands of time. Before he created us, it was just him out there -- jumping from timeline to timeline, trying to bring some semblance of peace and order to the chaos.”

“About that–,” Loki interjected. “–The whole ‘jumping from timeline to timeline’ thing... Did ‘He’ jump between those timelines randomly?”

“Uh…” Mobius turned back to his TemPad, scrolling through the block of information it displayed. “Seems like it, for the most part.”

“So there’s no way to select a specific timeline?” Loki asked, casting Sylvie a down-trodden look. “No way to find a specific timeline?”

“We weren’t exactly designed for that,” Mobius replied, flicking away the information on his TemPad. With a few more presses of his fingers, the screen of his TemPad displayed a diagram of the sacred timeline -- if it could even be called that anymore. What he showed them more closely resembled a plate of spaghetti than the single straight line of the timeline. “See this right here? This is exactly what we were supposed to stop. We weren’t meant to travel between timelines, because the very existence of another timeline outside ours means we failed at our jobs.”

“But that’s what it was like before the TVA was created,” Sylvie pointed out. “Somewhere in there is the timeline we came from. We just need to find it again and travel back to it.”

“What for?” Mobius asks. “Why’s your timeline so important?”

“It’s the sacred timeline,” Sylvie answered, quickly continuing when Mobius opened his mouth to argue. “Yeah, I know, your timeline was also the sacred timeline, but it wasn’t until me killing ‘Him’ created all these different timelines.”

“Okay, sure-,” Mobius said with a nod. “That still doesn’t explain why you want to go back to that timeline. You killed that version of ‘Him’ in that timeline, didn’t you? Why else do you need to go back?”

“Because that timeline contains a few people that could be useful in defeating the other versions of ‘Him’,” Loki answers.

“And… how do you know that?”

“Because they were the only versions of themselves that were able to kill another mad ruler,” Sylvie says, glancing at Loki with her face softened in pity. “The only being who was destined – and able – to kill us…”

“Oh…” Mobius cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure whether to continue scrolling through his TemPad or keep talking. “Uh… I don’t know if this is inconsiderate of me to say, but… maybe it would be worth getting that guy to join your team? Since he was able to kill you, maybe they could-,”

“No.” Loki didn’t even need to give a reason why he was against that idea. The tone behind that one word said more than any explanation he could give.

“Fair enough, scratch that idea-,” Mobius made the smart move and returned his attention to his TemPad. “Selecting certain timelines, selecting certain timelines… Ah, here we go! Seems it’s… huh.”

“What? What’s huh?” Sylvie asked.

“There is a way to select a specific timeline. Kind of,” Mobius answered, standing from his chair and making his way around his desk to them. “Could you hold up the TemPad for me?”

Sylvie did as Mobius asked, holding out her arm in front of her so the TemPad was on display.

“You remember what I said about the TemPad making a connection with the user?” Mobius asked, getting nods from them in return. “Well, the connection goes deeper than that. So much so that… only the person who has been designated as the leader of the TVA can use it.”

“What?” Sylvie splutters. “I’m not the leader of the TVA-,”

“Tell that to the TemPad,” Mobius returned.

“Sylvie… I think he might be right,” Loki said, getting Sylvie to snap her head towards him. “He wanted us to rule the TVA, remember? Someone to take over his job. He offered us the position, took off the TemPad, and then-,”

“But I didn’t accept it!” Sylvie argued, looking more and more horrified with every passing second. “I just-”

“Took the TemPad,” Loki cut her off, filling in what she was about to say.

“Far as the TemPad is concerned, you’re the leader now,” Mobius told her. “You see those gold lines running across the surface?”

“Yes, but what’s that got do with anythi—”

“They’re not just for design,” Mobius answered before Sylvie could finish. “Those lines? They’re actually timelines.”

Sylvie blinked in surprise, glancing first over to Loki, then down to the TemPad.

“You see, ‘He Who Remains’ wanted to make sure he could return to his timeline whenever he needed to,” Mobius continued, nodding to the TemPad. “Mostly to make sure none of the other variants of him were wreaking havoc on his timeline, but also… just to return home, I guess. Do me a favor and run your hand along its surface, would you?”

Sylvie shot Mobius a curious look, but did as he asked anyway. The surface of the TemPad shifted, the squiggly lines running along its surface passing by in a blur of movement. Then, it seemed to settle on a certain design, displaying the usual bright gold line with branches coming off of it.

“That right there?” Mobius began, looking between the two of them, and then down to the TemPad. “That’s your timeline, Sylvie.”

Sylvie’s head shot up at that, feeling her heart clench at his words. It was… it was impossible. Her timeline didn’t exist anymore. Judge Renslayer and her Minute-Men had made sure of that.

“Now see, if I try and select a timeline-,”

Mobius’s hand moved towards the TemPad, and almost on instinct did Sylvie pull it away from him, holding it protectively to her body. Mobius let out an exasperated sigh at the defensive action, dropping his hands back to his sides and shoving them into his pockets. “Really? Isn’t trust supposed to be a two-way system?”

“From what I’ve heard,” Sylvie said as Loki unconsciously tried to move closer to her. He had done this a few times before, and this time, she found herself moving closer to him, too. “Not sure your argument works when you clearly don’t trust us, either.”

“Can you blame me?” Mobius asked, getting you a genuine huff of laughter from Sylvie.

“No. If anything, I respect you for it,” Sylvie said.

“Good form of self-preservation, really,” Loki added.

“Fine. I won’t touch it.” Mobius turned around on the spot, strolling back over to his side of the desk. “Guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“What would have happened?” Even if Sylvie didn’t want Mobius to touch it, that wasn’t to say that she wasn’t curious as to what he was trying to show her.

“Nothing,” Mobius answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “It wouldn’t have responded to me -- because I’m not its owner.”

“But… why would He have just given it up like that?” Sylvie asked. “I hadn’t agreed to anything yet.”

“‘What’s the worst that could happen,’“ Loki mimicked He Who Remains’s words. “Either we took over, or an infinite amount of Him manifests into existence and fights to get back to where He was. No matter what option came to be, he no longer needed that TemPad.”

“Still seems strange to me that he just… gave you the TemPad,” Mobius thought out loud, placing his hands on the desk and resting his weight on it. “That is what I saw, right? He just… took it off and slid it across the desk to you.”

“Yeah… He did,” Sylvie’s face pinched into a frown, slowly looking up to Loki. “Loki, did you ever notice how… he seemed almost excited at the idea of me killing him?”

Loki mirrors her frown, thinking back to what felt like a lifetime ago now. “In what way?”

“He was looking at you guys kinda funny during your big fight,” Mobius said, drumming his fingers across the desk.

“Was he?” Loki asks. “I was a little too distracted at the time to notice.”

“He even looked strangely invested when you guys, uh…” Mobius trailed off awkwardly, hoping they would fill in the blanks for themselves. When Loki and Sylvie only stared blankly back at him, he hung his head with a dejected sigh. “Oh, for the love of… When you kissed, for god's sake…”

“Oh…” Loki was surprised to feel the flush of heat to his face. “Again, a little distracted -- which, I think was your plan.” Loki cast Sylvie an annoyed look at that last part.

“Already said I’m sorry–”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah -- how about we move on from that.” Mobius hurried them past the miniature bickering session that was likely to start. “Or… no wait, let’s go back to that.”

Loki and Sylvie looked to each other at the same time, like they were somehow able to communicate through eye contact alone. “Let’s go back to… us arguing?” Sylvie wanted to clarify.

“Yes! But, no, don’t actually argue—” Mobius somehow made this all the more confusing. “What was it that He said to you guys? Something about trust, or… being unable to trust—”

“He asked me if I could trust Loki.” Sylvie, of course, remembered this. She knew she’d never forget. “And… if I could trust anyone at all."

Mobius nodded to himself, staring down at his feet as he thought. “Why would he say that? If he wanted you to work together, to lead the TVA together, then… why would he plant those doubts in your head?”

“It almost seems like he was trying to get us to fight,” Loki said to Sylvie. “Maybe… he never really wanted us to take over.”

“You think he wanted to die?”

“I think he wanted to be reborn,” Loki corrected Sylvie. “I don’t think he was just tired; I think he was bored. After countless years of writing everyone’s stories – himself included – I think… I think he wanted you to open up the multiverse, to live an infinite amount of lives outside of his own script.”

Sylvie shook her head with a bitter laugh, her lip curling in disgust as she looked down to His former TemPad. “My whole life, I only had the thought of watching His life drain away to get me through the day… And now, it turns out I did what he always wanted, anyway.”

Sylvie reached out a hand towards the TemPad, the glow of its timelines reflecting in her shining eyes. She ran a finger softly across the timeline – her timeline – watching as the TemPad slowly moves with her finger, displaying the different branches that come off of her timeline.

“Is this really my timeline?” Sylvie doesn’t look away from the TemPad.

“It’s what the files say,” Mobius tells her.

“How is that possible?” Sylvie tears her eyes away, looking up to Mobius. “My timeline was pruned.”

“Exactly. It was pruned,” Mobius says. “But now we have this whole mess of branches, forming into a whole mess of timelines.”

“So?”

“So, somewhere out there is a timeline where you were never picked up by us,” said Mobius, looking pointedly to Sylvie’s TemPad. “Oh, right -- it’s that timeline right there.”

“A timeline where the TVA never interfered…” Loki says in wonderment, turning wide eyes towards Sylvie. “Your timeline never would have been pruned…”

“My family…” Sylvie whispers, finding herself frozen in shock. “My home… my life…”

“So… we’re on Sylvie’s timeline now?” Loki asks Mobius. “How would that work when we, apparently, don’t exist…?”

“This isn’t Sylvie’s timeline,” Mobius said, scooping up the TemPad he left laying on his desk and tucking it into his jacket. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. When you grabbed the TemPad and opened a door here, it should have opened up into a TVA on your timeline. But… it didn’t.”

Mobius took a seat on the edge of his desk – despite the perfectly fine chair right there in front of him – crossing his arms against his chest with his back partly turned to them. “What were you doing whilst you were opening the Time-Door? Was there any interference?”

“Oh, um…” Sylvie glanced awkwardly to Loki, whose raised questioning eyebrow quickly dropped into a look of realization at her pointed look.

“Ah…” Loki drawled out slowly, scratching at the back of his head. “Would us, uh… touching be classified as ‘interference?’”

“Oh, you were–” Mobius cut himself off with a burst of laughter, slapping at his knee. “You opened up that Time-Door whilst you were kissing, didn’t you? That explains it…”

“Does it? Feel free to pass on that explanation to us -- you know, if you feel like it.” Sylvie didn’t appreciate being the recipient of Mobius’s ridicule.

“The TemPad was trying to open up the Time-Door to your specific timeline. Problem is… it didn’t know which one of you to focus on. Can’t open one door into two separate timelines, so, it had to compromise. Instead of opening up a Time-Door into either one of your timelines…”

“It opened up into one where we don’t exist.” Loki guessed correctly.

“You both canceled each other out,” Mobius tacked on.

“And what about the others?” Sylvie asked.

“The other… what’s?”

“The Apocalypses we jumped to,” Sylvie clarified. “Were they… were they my timeline?”

“If it was just you touching the TemPad? Then yeah, it would have been your timeline.”

“That must have been why it was different,” Loki said in realization. “Those attackers… they came earlier than they were supposed to, didn’t they?”

“One small change can lead to a whole ton of butterfly effects.” Mobius slowly made his way to the side of the desk, sliding the drawer closed as he went. “Some of those changes can be small, like… like someone speaking one word on one day differently. And then the other changes…”

“Can breed a multi-verse ending conqueror,” Loki finished grimly, getting a shrug of agreement from Mobius.

“So… we know we can get to my timeline. Is that the only way we can select a specific timeline?”

“Right, the uh, the other sacred timeline,” Mobius mumbled, scratching at the back of his head as he thought. “Well… you came from that one, right? You made a connection between that timeline to this timeline when you shoved Loki through that Time-Door.”

“But we’ve moved on since then,” Loki pointed out. “If Sylvie touches the TemPad, it’ll display her timeline, won’t it?”

“If that’s the one you select, sure. But–”

“But the TemPad saves previously opened Time-Doors.” Sylvie already knew where Mobius was going with this. “That’s how we got here in the first place. I opened up a Time-Door I had already opened before, back in the Citadel.”

“Which is the timeline currently on display,” Mobius said. “All you’ve gotta do is follow that timeline back… and it’ll connect to the timeline you came from.”

“Hang on…” Loki turned his attention back to Sylvie, his brow furrowing in thought. “What about my timeline? Would… would that have been re-created too?”

Sylvie placed a comforting hand on his arm, giving his bicep a kind squeeze with an understanding smile. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Loki looked genuinely taken aback as she unwound the TemPad from her hand. For a moment, she simply stood and held this greatly powerful device in her hands. She kept her eyes locked with his, a note of understanding passing between them as she slowly held out the TemPad for him to take.

Loki didn’t take it. Not right away. “It might not work. Not just because my timeline might still remain erased, but… what if the TemPad can’t have two owners?”

“’He Who Remains’ made it clear he wanted both of us to rule.” Sylvie pushed the TemPad into his chest. She grabbed hold of his hand, pulling it up to the TemPad and curling his fingers around it. “Besides… we might be two separate beings, but our souls exist as one and the same. If it works for me? Then I know it’ll work for you, too.”

“You are very confident,” Loki noted with a small smile, his weak grip on the TemPad strengthening as he finally took the TemPad from her.

Loki couldn’t bring himself to look at the TemPad as he slid it onto his hand, experimentally flexing his fingers to get used to the feeling of the cylindrical object sat atop his hand. Sylvie nodded at him in encouragement when his eyes landed on her, letting her hand slip away from his arm to make sure they were no longer touching.

Loki finally dropped his eyes down to the TemPad. Sylvie’s timeline continued to blink up at him, just waiting for its new owner to press his touch into its surface. Loki let his hand hover over the TemPad, a moment of shaky hesitation passing before he swiped his finger across the flat surface of the TemPad.

In the blink of an eye, the surface began to change. Billions upon billions of timelines flashed before his eyes as the TemPad searched for his timeline, and for one heart-stopping moment, Loki wondered if it would simply be searching forever, his timeline removed from all of existence.

And then it stopped. It stopped, and Loki and Sylvie could only stand and stare at the brilliantly gold streak of lightning that stared back at them. Right there was Loki’s timeline. Right there was a universe where none of this had ever happened -- an unlimited expanse of possibilities his life could have taken.

And that’s when Mobius held the pruning stick to Sylvie’s neck.

Loki knew it was foolish of him to let his guard down, even if in the presence of – who he supposed – was a friend. But it wasn’t his friend. This Mobius might have been witness to the events that led to their friendship, but he didn’t experience them. And that was made all the difference, it seemed.

One second, Sylvie was right there next to him, looking at the TemPad just as he was. The next, she was just… gone. Loki’s head snapped up in a daze, taking in the sight of Sylvie struggling vehemently as Mobius wrapped an arm around her neck, keeping her pinned to him as he held the glowing end of the pruning stick much too close to Sylvie for either of their comfort.

Sylvie looked more pissed at herself than she did at Mobius. Just like Loki, she had made the foolish mistake of letting her guard down. The entire time she had been here, she had every possible guard up and alert, just waiting for the moment this all went to shit. And then… and then Mobius had told her that somewhere out there is the family she knows, the family she never got to grow up with, and she had stupidly returned back to the state of that little princess of Asgard who had no reason not to trust anyone.

“Don’t struggle.” Mobius’s words did not come out as a command. Not that he wanted them to sound like it. It was more a word of advice than anything. “I don’t want to accidentally catch you with this thing.”

“Then why are you holding it to my neck?” Sylvie forced out through gritted teeth, continuing to struggle despite Mobius’s warning. She kept her gaze focused on the pruning stick Mobius had snuck out of his desk drawer, her hands dug into the arm around her neck, tugging uselessly at them to get his hold to loosen. Except, every defiant pull to his arm only resulted in the pressure against her neck tightening, coming dangerously close to cutting off her air supply.

“Mobius, what are you doing?” Loki spluttered out, yanking out his dagger from his jacket pocket in a flash of metal.

“What I have to.” Mobius took a cautious step back away from Loki, dragging a very uncooperative Sylvie with him. “And don’t you think about going for that sword, Sylvie. The moment I feel your arms move anywhere down, I’ll prune you before you can even come close to touching it.”

Sylvie laughed mockingly at that. Loki stood in a battle-ready stance, looking very much not amused by Mobius’s words as Sylvie had. “You’re not used to the whole ‘threatening demeanor’ thing, are you?” Sylvie goaded him.

“I’ll admit it’s not my forte.” Mobius carefully maneuvered himself back around the desk, placing it between him and Loki. Loki slowly moved forward with him, coming to a stop just in front of the desk. “Especially when I don’t want to be doing this.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Loki hoped his pleading tone would get through to Mobius in some sort of way.

“Because it’s my job,” Mobius forced out the words with as much authority as he could muster.

“You’ve seen the truth!” Sylvie grunted, still fighting against Mobius’s hold. “You know what He did to you! To all of us!”

“That doesn’t change the importance of my work.” Mobius’s words make the weight in Loki’s chest sink heavier. “Or the importance of His work. I agree with you that this whole thing ends with Him; I just don’t agree with your method. I think… I know that the strands of time are only safe in His hands. Only He can untangle and sort out those strands and ensure the timeline runs through to the end without any problems.”

“Mobius, no–” Loki desperately hoped he could get through to him. “If that was the case, then we wouldn’t be right here, would we? You wouldn’t have existed if that was the case. Sylvie and I wouldn’t exist. But that’s what's happened, whether by His deciding or not. If we just sit back and let him rise to power once more… what’s to stop this from happening all over again?”

“And what if your version of Him isn’t the one that comes out on top?” Sylvie asks Mobius, lessening her struggles now that Mobius held the pruning stick even closer, buzzing away mere inches from her face. “Somewhere out there is a variant of him that isn’t interested in pruning the other timelines. Instead, he only wants to rule over them all.”

“It’s up to Him to decide what we’ll do about that,” Mobius replied, much to Loki’s dismay.

Mobius sighed lightly, ducking his head with his eyes clenched shut. “Please, just… do as I say. I meant it when I said I don’t want to be doing this. I think… I think you guys could be of some help to us–”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Sylvie groaned. “You’re trying to recruit us now?”

“Not right now,” Mobius corrected her. “I know you won't right now in this moment. But… you’ll see. You’ll see that this is the only way. Now, please, if you’d just… hand over the TemPad. I promise we won’t reset you, or put you in a time-loop -- nothing like that.”

“Mobius–” Loki tried again, only to be cut off by the man in question.

“It won't be long before someone comes into this office. I can’t guarantee they won't do something drastic if they come in and see you like that with your weapons. But if you come cooperatively–”

“We’ll be slaves to the TVA, just as you are?” Sylvie asks, voice soaked in disgust. “No thanks -- I’d rather take my chances with the pruning stick.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s a good point,” Mobius mumbled, much to Loki and Sylvie’s confusion. “You… you voluntarily pruned yourself, didn’t you? The both of you were pruned, and you made it out…”

“We did,” Loki confirmed, taking a single step closer, feeling the wooden panel of Mobius’s desk pressing into his knees. “And we both took down the creature He himself tamed and weaponized to devour timelines whole.”

“In other words… do it,” Sylvie spat at Mobius, giving one last attempt at breaking free that yields no results. “You know as well as we do that that’s not a threat to us. Not really.”

“No, I suppose you’re right,” Mobius agreed. Seeing Mobius deactivate the pruning stick briefly filled Loki with a surge of hope, wondering if maybe, just maybe, they had found a way to deescalate the situation. That hope prompted surged out of him, however, as Mobius flipped the pruning stick around in his hand, now holding the pointed, sharp spear end of the stick against Sylvie’s neck. “You might be able to escape pruning… but can you come back from a blade in your throat?”

No. No, they could not.

“Mobius, please,” Loki begged one more time, holding out a dagger in front of him. “Stop this. You’ve seen reason, I know you have. I don’t want to do this as much as you don’t–”

“Then just hand over the TemPad,” Mobius said like it was a no-brainer decision. Loki felt his muscles coil in anticipation as the very tip of the spear pierced Sylvie’s flesh, clenching his jaw hard when he saw the small trickle of blood slip down her neck. He had to make a decision–

“You know your magic doesn’t work here,” Mobius reminded him with an almost pitiful expression. “This is it, Loki. No more tricks from the trickster.”

Loki decided.

“No. There’s no magic,” Loki agreed, holding out his dagger like he was about to drop it in surrender.

Loki dropped his hand down in a flash, connecting with the surface of the TemPad, just as he had seen He Who Remains do back in the Citadel. Mobius blinked, and then Loki was gone. He startled, not even having time to ponder over what had happened before Loki blinked back into existence behind him – not that he could see – and slid the dagger he held in his hand right in the small of his back. Mobius jolted at the searing pain that erupted from his back, barely able to get out a gasp of pain as his body locked up.

“–But I still have your technology,” Loki completed the rest of his sentence before yanking the dagger out from Mobius’s back.

Sylvie took advantage of the slackening of Mobius’s grip, forcing an elbow back hard into the side of his ribs. Mobius had completely let go at this point, but she still spun around on the spot, bringing up her leg and kicking Mobius hard in the chest. Mobius went down without much resistance, slamming into the wall behind him with a pained grunt. He slid down to the floor, leaving behind a trail of red against the wall as he went.

“Huh…” Mobius’s eyes were unfocused, staring blankly to the ground in front of him. “You know, I… I could have sworn I heard you said to that other me that… that you were done stabbing people in the back.”

Mobius dredged up just enough energy to raise his eyes up, meeting Loki’s agonized ones. There was… nothing in his eyes. No blame, no hatred, no fear. But… there was nothing good there, either. No forgiveness, no kindness he’s seen from Mobius plenty of times before. It was just… blank. He was blank.

One second, Loki's staring at a man whose heart was still pumping, whose blood still circulated around his body. Then, he was actually able to see the moment the life drained away from him, like a candle being blown out. Any semblance of the man he knows disappears from Mobius’s eyes, his head dropping down to his chest before he slowly slumps down to the ground, staring without seeing.

The weight of the dagger in Loki’s hands had never felt as heavy as it had before. His shaking hands lift the dagger up, the buzzing fluorescent lights of Mobius’s office reflecting off the shining surface of the blade. The dagger had served its purpose, had done what it was designed to do. And yet, as Loki stared down at the offending item and took in the sight of Mobius’s blood coating the once perfectly clean metal, he wanted nothing more than to cast it into the eternal flame and watch it melt into nothing.

How many times had he done exactly this? He was far from inexperienced in battle, and far from inexperienced in hurting those he cares about for his own gain. So why, this time, did he feel the burn of bile in the back of his throat? Why, this time, did his hands shake so hard that he let his trusted weapons drop to the ground? Why, this time, did he find himself stumbling down to the ground, breaths coming short and fast as he stared at the corpse of the only friend he’s truly ever known?

“Loki…” Sylvie’s voice sounded far away and muted, as if they were underwater. In the back of his mind, he registers that she’s moved in front of him, blocking him from seeing Mobius’s corpse. Her concerned face fills his vision, blurry as if his eyes were filled with tears. Wait… were they? It would certainly explain the stinging sensation he felt in them, and the wetness he could feel rolling down his face.

Her hands cup his face, desperately trying to bring him back to himself. Just like Mobius, his eyes had gone scarily blank. “Loki, it’s not your fault. It’s not, okay? That’s… that wasn’t him. That wasn’t Mobius -- not really.”

Something flickers back to life in his eyes. They shift around, searching across her face as if he was finally seeing her here, still with him, sat right in front of him. He swallows hard, his gaze drifting to where he knows Mobius’s corpse lies behind her.

“I know.” Simply hearing Loki speak out loud helped to lessen some of the fear that had been constricting her chest. “But… it also is.”

Sylvie didn’t even know what she could say right now that would be of any comfort to him. She had never really had to comfort someone before, or had someone comfort her. Except… well, she supposed that Loki had attempted to comfort her a few times: back on Lamentis when it seemed like the end of the line; or in ‘The Time-Keeper’s chambers when they realized the Time Keepers weren’t real. But then, even if she did know how to go about comforting him, this certainly wasn’t the place to do it. Not with Mobius’s body sat right there behind her, and not in a place where they could be locked up at any moment.

Sylvie turns her head towards the office door, just waiting for the sounds of rushing footsteps to echo down the hall. A part of her thinks it would almost be better than the silence they found themselves in -- apart from the repetitive tick of the clock hung in the top middle section of the wall Mobius was slumped by.

She needed to get Loki out of here. She didn’t care where, or what timeline it was, it just had to be not here. Sylvie brushed her thumb tenderly across Loki’s cheek, wiping away a stubborn tear that clung to his skin. She dropped her hands away from his face, turning to Mobius’s body with a grimace. Avoiding looking the corpse in the eye, she reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the TemPad he had stored in there, trying her best not to disturb his body too much.

“Sorry, Mobius,” Sylvie whispers as she moves away from his body, casting him one last regretful look before straightening herself into a stand. The TemPad in her hands was at least familiar, and yet… it felt wrong to use, now. Shaking her head, she flipped open the screen to the TemPad, letting out a breath of relief that it was fully charged. She entered in the information for the Time-Door without much of a thought, its manifestation enough to force Loki’s gaze away from Mobius’s body.

“We need to go,” Sylvie reaches out a hand towards Loki, grateful that his eyes follow the movement of her hand instead of settling back on Mobius. Loki nods, hesitating for a moment before he picks his dagger back up from the ground. His TemPad clad hand clasps onto Sylvie’s, taking her offered help as she pulls him up to his feet. She doesn’t let go of his hand, even when he’s stood back on his feet, and when Loki squeezes her hand in thanks, she knows she's made the right decision.

“Don’t look.” Sylvie moves in front of him, forcing his eyes onto her. Loki does as she asks, forcing everything in his vision apart from her to go blurry and out of focus. Sylvie slowly starts walking back towards the Time-Door, pulling Loki with her as she goes.

What Loki and Sylvie didn’t know was that, after they stepped through that Time-Door, someone did come into Mobius’s office. But it wasn’t just a group of Minute-Men. Nor was it Judge Whittle.

Deep purple robes brushed against the floor as the figure stepped into the room, calculated dark eyes scanning across the room before falling on Mobius. The man sighed, more in irritation at not having caught the intruders red-handed than in the sadness he should have felt for having lost such a devoted worker.

“They found their way in,” The man calls out to the security detail stood post next to the door. “Get someone to retrieve this body once I’ve looked over it. We need to check for any cross-contamination.”

The man waited until one of the security detail had hurried off to carry out his orders before stepping further into the room. He strode over to Mobius’s body, crouching down onto one knee with his head tilted to the side as he looked him up and down. He reached out, grabbing Mobius’s arm and rolling him over onto his stomach. Immediately, he took sight of the dark patch of red soaked into the back of Mobius’s jacket. With careful hands, he pried the jacket off of the body, followed shortly by the now stained white button-up shirt.

The man clicked his tongue, resting an arm on his knee as he looked to the open wound that had been carved into the center of Mobius’s back. There’s a tentative knock to the office door he had closed behind him, looking over to it as it swings open. The Minute-Men he had requested filed into the room, standing at attention and ready for orders.

“You—” He points to one of the Minute Men in line, who somehow manages to stand straighter now he had been singled out. “—Come here.”

Obediently, the Minute Man hurries over to the man, nervous eyes fixed dead-ahead as he waits for further orders.

“I want you… to take a look at the wound,” The man instructs him, folding his hands behind his back and nodding his head towards Mobius’s body. “Look at the shape of it… the size of it. Do you recognize the weapon that inflicted it?”

“Um….” The Minute Man stammers out, voice trembling with nerves as he kneels down by Mobius’s body to take a closer look at the wound. “It… it seems like a small blade, Sir.”

“Hmm… I’d have to agree with you on that one.” The man places a hand on the Minute Man’s shoulder in what should have been a comforting gesture, but was far from it. “A small blade, expertly wielded, by someone who is… intimately familiar with the weapon in question. And… considering the placement of the wound, I’d have to say familiar with this analyst, wouldn’t you?”

“I… I suppose so, Sir.”

“You suppose? Okay, well, I’ll give you my final theory.” The man’s grip on his shoulder tightens, feeling the trembling of the Minute-Man underneath his hands. “I think… the damage done here was by a dagger. Do you know what that means?”

The Minute Man remained frozen under his hands, wisely letting the man monologue away instead of actually answering.

“It means it’s them. It means that they’re finally starting to make a move… It means that what I saw, and what I heard, was true. It means… it won't be long before they start hunting down me.”

Next Chapter - - - >

#sylki #sylki fanfiction #sylki fanfic #pro sylki #loki/sylvie #lovedagger #enchantricks

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heyitmelexie · 3 years

Note

Hey 🥺 could you do Proposal and Gift Giving for the dec. writing challenge please? with Max Lord 🥺🥺🥺 — and tag me in it too! if they’re not already taken, ofcourse. thank youuuu 🤍✨

Proposal

Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader

Word count: 2336 Warnings: soft!Maxwell Rating: General audiences

A/N: I know I’m a bit late, but at the moment I’m kind of struggling to keep up. Sorry!

Day 10 for the December Writing Challenge by @honeymandos! ❤️

I’ve had quite the struggle writing for Maxwell. He’s a more complex character than I expected. That and my brain refusing to work properly... Yeah. I hope you still like it ❤️

I’m not describing the outfit that reader wears, because that’s all your choice to make! I know from personal experience that I often don’t like the outfits described or shown in reader insert works, so I’ll let you all think about what you’d wear!

I absolutely love calling him Maxie tbh haha

(It’s December in here) ❤️

-----------------------------------------

“Come on, baby, hurry. Why are you always taking so long?” You hear Maxwell groan from your bedroom next door, while you are getting ready in your dressing room.

Today is yours and Max’ third anniversary and of course he wants to take you out. Weird was just that he said you should dress a bit more comfortably and warm. Not fancy as usual, dressed head to toe in clothes worth more than a small car.

No, tonight he wants you casual and cosy. And you aren’t complaining, he looks magnificent in his crème-coloured woollen sweater with simple dark jeans and comfortable sneakers.

“Almost done, Maxie!” you call back, checking yourself in the mirror to see if everything is the way you want it to be.

Satisfied with your choice of clothing, you walk back into the bedroom where he stands in front of the bed, arms crossed over his chest.

As soon as he takes a look at you, his features soften and he gives you a gentle smile, the smile only you are allowed to see and it makes your knees weak. He hums in approval and pulls you flush against his chest, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” His rasp sends a shiver down your spine and heat creeps up your face. He grins at you and gives your bum a soft pat before taking your hand to lead you downstairs.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” you ask him, reaching for your coat. He gently swats your hand away and takes the coat before helping you into it.

“Nope. It’s a surprise” he answers before putting on his trench coat and then his silk scarf. You pout and put on your own scarf. He just chuckles at that.

“Come on, baby, we’re already late.”

You both go outside and get into the car. Maxwell gets into the driver’s seat, which seems a bit weird to you because he doesn’t often drive himself. But you get into the passenger’s seat anyway and a moment later he starts to drive.

You had met Maxwell about four years ago. He chose you as his new personal assistant, deeming you the perfect choice after reading your application.

This new job brought you good money, which you really needed, and working for Maxwell was not as bad as everyone else around you were saying.

Maxwell treated you quite well. He was polite towards you, regularly assuring you that you were doing a good job for him and these subtle praises were doing quite the things to you, honestly. You noticed his occasional flirting which left you flustered and flattered. But it was not the pushy flirting other employees had told you about, no, it was subtle and… gentle in a way. Shy. As if he was afraid to scare you away.

You had seen him snap and scream at other employees when they made just the tiniest mistakes, which made you wonder why he was so different with you. But although he was nice to you, you were still afraid to overstep your boundaries, so you held back that question.

One evening you were staying with him in his office until way after 11pm again, helping him with some of the tasks he had to finish. When he looked at his clock and saw how late it was, he had told you to go home and get some sleep, he would finish the rest alone.

“It’s fine, Maxwell” he had offered you to just call him by his name instead of Mr. Lord or Sir a few months into working for him. “We’ll finish this quicker together, you need to sleep as well. Come on, just pull through and we can both go home.” You smile at him and he just huffs, but smiles as well and continues.

“Can’t believe I got so lucky with you. I’d be long lost without you by now” he had said. His praise made your heart beat faster and your smile grew wider.

You worked in comfortable silence for another hour. Once all the tasks were finished, the two of you quickly tidied up the desk and then made your way to the elevator together.

“Let me drive you home. Well, let my chauffeur drive you home. It’s late and I don’t want you to wander around the city all on your own” he said as you stepped into the elevator. He had brought you home before and you always felt more comfortable with him than when you were going home alone. So you accepted, grateful that he offered to drive you (or, well, his chauffeur to drive you). You didn’t want to bother him, so you never asked yourself if he would take you home. You always waited for him to offer it himself.

During the drive to your apartment building, you two made comfortable conversation. Upon arriving, you went to get out of the car, but he gently stopped you by putting a hand on your arm.

“This might be a bit sudden, but can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night maybe?”

You look at him, eyes wide, blinking rapidly. You tried to process what he had just asked you.

Maxwell Lord asked you to go out with him? This must be a dream.

“I uh… I mean, I, yeah why not” you say, still not quite believing he actually asked you out. He flashes you a bright smile that makes your knees wobble, grateful you were still sitting down.

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 7pm” he said before taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

You muster up a shy smile before exiting the car and walking to your door, grinning like an idiot.

That first date had been wonderful. He had taken you to a fancy, but not high-class restaurant, knowing you wouldn’t feel comfortable. You had told him that once and were surprised to notice he remembered it.

The two of you ate and talked about anything that came to your minds. Your childhoods, how school was for you, college/university, what your dreams were when you were younger. Even about tiny little things like favourite songs, favourite colours, what sort of ice cream you liked the most. It was pleasant and comfortable, you hadn’t wanted the night to end.

When you were back in the street you lived, he got out of the car and stepped around it to open the door for you. He had never done it before and it made your heart stutter for a moment.

Maxwell walked you to your door and when you turned around to say goodnight he just pulled you towards him and kissed you so gently you had to hold onto him, fearing your knees would give out under you. It left your stomach vibrating with the force of thousands of butterflies fluttering in it and your body covered in goosebumps.

After you said goodnight and closed the door behind you, you leaned your back against it and just smiled to yourself, feeling happier than never before.

You proceeded to go out regularly, at least once a week and after the fifth date Maxwell had asked you to be his. And you had happily accepted, loving every second you spent with him and always feeling like a literal deity in his presence.

He holds your hand in his during the entire car ride. It’s still light outside but the sun slowly starts to set. Soft snow is falling from the sky in big flakes, covering the roofs of the houses you pass.

You had left New York, wondering where he would take you tonight.

After another 30 minutes he pulls up in front of a small cabin in a little village, a thick layer of snow covering the floor and the roof. You look at him in confusion but he just smiles and gets out of the car, coming around to open the door for you.

You take his hand and step out of the car. He then takes a little suitcase from the backseats which you hadn’t noticed before.

“When did you pack that?” He doesn’t answer and just grins, taking your hand to pull you into the little cabin.

The cabin is cosy. It has a big fireplace with a big couch and a fluffy carpet in front of it. The open kitchen is small but rather modern and a little staircase leads you upstairs to the small bedroom and bathroom. You instantly feel comfortable and smile at him, practically glowing while he attempts to light a fire.

After a few minutes the flames are finally appearing and slowly growing, covering the room in a soft, orange glow.

Maxwell then gently pushes you towards the sofa where you sit and he bends to take off your shoes. You smile at him, gently kissing his forehead.

“You’re so soft tonight, Maxie” you hum, gently caressing his cheek. He turns his head and kisses your palm before making his way into the kitchen to start cooking something.

You didn’t even know he could cook. So you sit there, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape, watching him cook something that, after a little while, smells absolutely fantastic.

What was he planning? He had never cooked for you before.

“Maxie that smells wonderful. Why have you never cooked for us before?” you say, smiling at him when he turns his head to look at you. He just winks and continues to prepare the food, chuckling softly.

“I usually let others cook for us so I can have you in my arms every second or just so I can look at you all the time. But tonight I wanted to be completely alone with you and cook something nice myself. If you’d like it I can cook more often, love.” You hum and nod.

“I’d love that, Maxie.”

You just watch him while he works, admiring the way his back flexes sometimes.

After dinner, the two of you lay on the carpet in front of the fireplace, limbs tangled together. Maxwell gently caresses your arms. It’s peaceful.

“You know… I wanted to ask you something tonight” he says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You look up at him and smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Why so mysterious tonight? You always just ask me when you have a question, baby. What’s wrong?”

His thumb gently strokes over your knuckle and he seems to think about his words.

“Nothing is wrong, darling. I just…” He seemed nervous.

Maxwell Lord, nervous? That worried you.

“Maxie, what-“ you start, but he puts a finger to your lips and gently stops you.

“You know I’m not good with expressing how I feel, verbally.” You nod at that, knowing he is more confident in showing you how he feels.

“But I want to try. For you” he says, a soft blush appearing on his cheeks. You gently squeeze his hand in assurance and wait for him to continue.

“The past almost for years with you and three years of our relationship have been… wonderful. I realized you were the part in my life that was missing. And you complete me, you filled that gap and suddenly it was all… good.” He blinked, trying his hardest to not mess this up.

“I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before and that fills me with… pride. I’m proud that I can make you feel good and wanted and loved. I never thought loving would be easy but with you it’s like I’ve never done anything else.”

That brings tears to your eyes and his free hand gently cups your jaw.

“Maxie…” He softly shushes you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I can’t imagine a life with you anymore. I’d rather die than lose you and I know I could never love anyone like I love you.” He moves to take something out of his back pocket and when he holds it in his open palm you can see a little black velvet box. Your eyes grow wide and a gasp escapes your lips.

“You deserve an hour-long speech where I tell you how much I love you but there aren’t any words that can actually describe my love for you. You’re the most precious thing in my life and I will set the world on fire if anything ever happens to you.” He opens the box and it reveals the most beautiful ring you have ever seen.

“I want you to be mine forever. I want to love you until death tears us apart and I want to continue loving you even after. That is, if you’ll have me. So… do you want to marry me?” He looks at you, puppy eyes, nervous you could reject him.

But how could you ever say no to marrying the love of your life?

You could never.

“Maxie, how is that even a question. Of course!” Tears are streaming down your face but you flash him the biggest smile and he immediately relaxes, a big smile forming on his face as well.

“Fuck, I thought for a moment you’d say now…” You laugh and gently swat his chest.

“Idiot. I love you, Max. I could never say no to marrying you. You’re the love of my life” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles at you and takes the ring out of the box. You hold out your hand for him and he slips the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, putting all your feelings into it and just showing him this way how much you love him.

He hums lowly and wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you into him.

This is the first step into forever with Maxwell. And you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

--------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️

@absurdthirst @tangledlove27

#Maxwell Lord #Maxwell Lord x Reader #wonder woman 1984 #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal Characters

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sevfanfic · 4 years

Text

A Touch in the Dark - Chapter 2: Familiar Faces

Word count: 1,909

Just a quick note! for the purposes of this story you’re being placed in slytherin... sorry but we do have the most fun ;)

“Good afternoon! You must be Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” Minerva shook your hand gently and then took you by the shoulder to a chair in front of her desk, “Please sit.”

“Thank you,” you smiled “I hope I didn’t arrive too early.”

“Of course not, we have much to discuss before you meet the others.” Minerva was very welcoming to you, she made you feel like you belonged here. You went over your contract with her and she asked many questions about your life and why you accepted this position.

“Now then,” the headmistress rose from her seat and swiftly made her way to a large pointed hat, “since you are new here, you shall be sorted into a house.”

While you were a witch, you didn't grow up around magic. Your muggle parents refused. You went to muggle school and had a simple muggle life. You had to know more about this part of you that your parents desperately tried to suppress. Unfortunately you were too old to attend any traditional wizarding schools so you opted for self teaching, having spent most of the last four years reading and practicing. Your grandmother also helped, she was an amazing witch with incredible healing abilities. Travelling aided your discovery of different sources of information and you believed yourself to be a well rounded practitioner. However, your main focus was the healing arts like your grandmother. Minerva had reached out to you in a letter, she had read an article about your work and was very interested in having you teach a class.

“Ah, very different,” a voice sounded from the hat that had been placed on your head, “not a traditional witch, hm.”

You fiddled with the hem of your blouse.

“Interesting. Slytherin, perhaps. Yes, slytherin indeed.” The voice sounded satisfied.

Minerva smiled wide and removed the hat, “Very good. Now I believe it is time to meet the others.” She waved her wand and the doors of her office swung open.

You watched as the other professors entered the room one by one. They circled around, chatting and didn’t seem to notice you. Last to arrive was a tall man with broad shoulders, his robes were black like his hair and eyes. You thought you recognized him from somewhere but couldn’t quite remember. He stopped suddenly, eyes widening slightly as he looked you over.

Severus was surprised to see the dark haired woman from the bar standing in the headmistress’ office. He was quick to regain his usual demeanor, not wanting to make anyone suspicious.

Minerva spoke to the group, she described the new class being offered and introduced you as the new professor. You bowed your head and when you looked up you caught the eyes of the man in black robes. His piercing gaze sent a chill down your spine. You remembered. The pub, in Spinner’s End! That’s where I know you from, you thought to yourself, grinning at him as he quickly looked away. The meeting went on, you listened intently as Minerva introduced everyone and described the plans for the upcoming year. When dismissed, you were given the keys to your living quarters and instructed to the dungeons.

Severus, you finally put a name to the face. As you left the office you searched for him, wanting to say hello. He was quick to leave but you caught the sight of his robes as he turned a corner. You weren’t going to let him get away that easily. He must be embarrassed you speculated to yourself. You sped to catch up with him, as you approached he stopped suddenly. You were unprepared for his sudden cessation of movement and before you could stop yourself you collided with him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I was just-” you stammered as the tall man turned to face you.

“Just. What?” Severus looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I had recognized you from a pub and I wanted to say hello and-”

“Don’t flatter yourself by assuming that we are friends.” His voice was sharp. You couldn’t help but smirk at how much his serious demeanor intrigued you.

“Never,” you shook your head, “I figured you could help me find my room?” You jingled your keys in front of him. He snatched them out of your hand and quickly turned on his heel. Severus had a swift pace but you managed to keep up. You remained silent and tried to memorize the path so that you would not get lost while on your own. Severus glanced at you and saw how focused you were.

“It will take some time to remember how to make your way through the castle.” He spoke very matter-of-factly.

“Yes, well, I am quite prone to getting lost.” You chuckled at yourself.

“That is unfortunate,” a small smirk crossed Severus’ mouth but faded quickly. He was apprehensive about you, wary that he had said too much the night he met you. Was he drunk enough to speak about all that he had been feeling? If so, did you judge him for it? Severus knew that you would expect to see a certain side of him but he wasn’t sure how to approach the situation.

When you arrived at the door of your room Severus handed you the keys. You smiled and said “Thank you.” He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated. You saw him think for a second and then he finally spoke.

“That night,” he started, “I was not myself. If I said anything.. Inappropriate,” he paused again. You stopped him by raising your hand before he could continue.

“Nothing happened, you mostly listened to me babble on about myself.”

“Good.” He then turned quickly, wanting to escape the awkward situation but then turned back to you and said “Have a good night.” Then he disappeared down the corridor.

Your living quarters were simple, adorned with long tapestries and dark wooden furniture. Being in the dungeons didn’t bother you, the cold air smelled a little like lake water and it wrapped you in a calming embrace. You waved your wand and your luggage unpacked themselves, you smiled at how simple life seemed with magic. You learned over time that magic couldn’t fix everything. The muggle world was complicated in it’s own way. You had longed to find something else in life other than a busy job and bills. Thoughts of love always crossed your mind but your soul had been torn before, so love was filed away to the back of your mind. Maybe one day, you imagined.

That night you had a difficult time falling asleep. You were thinking too much about the past and could feel your anxiety creeping its way into your chest. You threw the covers off yourself, the sudden change in temperature gave you goosebumps.

“A walk, that’s all I need.” You said to yourself as you threw a robe on. The cool stone floor on your bare feet helped to ease some of the tension you felt. You opened your door and looked out, the hallway was dimly lit by small sconces. I am definitely going to get lost, you thought. But with a shrug you started walking. The castle at night was eerily quiet. Only the sound of your light footsteps could be heard. You found your way to a set of winding stairs that lead to a small balcony. As you rounded the corner you saw him. Severus was standing with his back to you, he stared out over the edge and was as still as a statue. You looked at him, wondering if he was alright.

“What do you want?” His voice suddenly made you gasp as you didn’t think he heard you behind him.

“Nothing. I was walking to clear my head, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Can’t sleep?” He asked quietly. A part of him hoped that you would stay.

“No,” you hesitantly stepped closer, “my thoughts are too loud.”

“I know the feeling.” He looked down at his hands as you stood beside him. You were silent for some time, looking at the stars and the surrounding landscape. The quiet was soothing and peaceful. You were known for chatting but something felt right about leaving the air free of useless words. He wasn’t exactly happy that you stumbled upon him but he didn’t hate it either.

“How is it you found this place?” Severus broke that silence.

“Minerva found me actually, she was interested in an article I wrote and she asked if I’d be willing to teach.”

“‘The applications of muggle medicine in magical healing.’”

“You read it?”

“Yes. You have interesting opinions.” He spoke slowly and you couldn’t make out what he was thinking.

“So I’ve been told,” you laughed softly, “what are your thoughts? You must have some compelling ideas about the topic?”

Severus paused for a moment as he pondered the question. “I believe there is a time and a place for both but why not use magic when it can be utilized with equal if not better effect.”

“I suppose because, as with all things, magic has its limits. For example, someone with multiple injuries would require a large amount of energy to heal with magic. Perhaps, one could use methods that do not require magic for less serious wounds and preserve their magic for only the most life threatening injuries.”

“And how does one decide which is the most life threatening?”

“It’s all about critical thinking and prioritization, professor,” you smiled at him, “but don't worry, I can teach you.” The playful tone in your voice made Severus smirk.

“I have no doubts.” he was cautious, unsure of your intentions.

A cool breeze blew your hair gently and he could smell lavender and oak. Severus sighed as he looked over at you. You had closed your eyes and it seemed as if you had allowed the breeze to carry your worries away. Your soft features and plump lips made him feel something he thought he’d never feel again. Before he could dwell on the thought he looked away. His walls were strong and he was adamant about keeping them up, keeping himself safe. Besides, he thought, she’d never want me.

Some time had passed and you became aware of how late it was getting.

“I should get back to bed.” You said softly.

“Goodnight.” Severus said without looking at you as you began to leave. Then you realized you actually had no idea how to get back.

“Uhm,” you started quietly, the tall man looked at you blankly, “I’m lost.” Was all you could manage, feeling utterly embarrassed. You could feel your cheeks flush.

“Of course you are.”

As you followed him your eyes looked him over, he was handsome and proud. His broad shoulders made you wonder how strong he was and you could feel your cheeks grew warm again. There was a reason why you approached him at the pub that night many months ago, he was different. You thought you had forgotten why you were interested but seeing him again re-awoken the allure you felt before. He appeared regal almost, carried himself with his head held high and back straight. But you knew there was something deeper. You felt an attraction to him that you couldn’t understand and even now that you were colleagues you knew you wouldn’t be able to ignore it.

#severus #severus x you #severus snape #snape #snape fanfiction #snape x you #fanfic #snape love #severus x reader #snape x reader #severus fanfic #severus lives

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