#i’m like in the waiting process of job hunting

[st0neddew-valley]

pov: getting back into stardew valley bc i got fired

[zephyrchama]

We know there's cooking duty, and trash duty, and various cleaning duties that the brothers rotate who's in charge of. They take turns shopping for groceries. When MC becomes their attendant in Nightbrighter, some of these chores are foisted onto them.

Is there a laundry duty? Does MC have to do everybody's laundry? Does Asmodeus keep buying more and more outrageous underwear to leave on top of his laundry so he can tease MC?

---

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whaddya think you’re doin’?”

Mammon walked into his room and caught you red-handed with a pair of his yellow briefs. He nearly flew across the room to snatch them out of your hand.

“Uh, the laundry?” You gestured to a basket of Mammon’s dirty clothes that had been collected from all over. “This would be easier for me if you left it in one place. Getting all of your stuff every week is like a scavenger hunt.”

Mammon threw the dirty briefs over his shoulder. They landed somewhere on the opposite side of the room for you to find again later. You looked at him in exasperation while reaching for a pair of crumpled-up jeans. His face had a rosy tint.

“Why are you doing the laundry?” he demanded.

“Because it’s my job as your attendant,” you answered.

“Wh-? Like, just this week?”

“I’ve been doing your laundry for the last three months, Mammon.”

He craned his neck forward in shock and waited a beat, as if you would say psyche. It’s not that Mammon couldn’t understand you, but this was new information he did not want to process. A hand rose to his forehead, sliding upwards as he pushed in frustration. “Well... cut it out! You look like a pervert. How would you like it if I did your laundry, huh?”

That’d be nice. “Could you, please? That would be great. I don’t have a day to do my own wash, given there’s seven of you and only seven days in a week.” Chores, RAD duties, and devilsitting took up every waking moment.

Mammon sighed and ruffled his hair. He muttered, “Seven…" In an instant, his attention snapped back to you.

"Seven? You’re doin’ everyone’s laundry?” he shouted.

You were ready to pull his jacket off yourself if he wouldn't cooperate. “Yes! And I’m short on time so just give me your dirty clothes!”

--

You cracked the door open ever so slightly. Leviathan was preoccupied with a game at his desktop, the back of his chair pointed at the door. The chair shook from the intensity with which he smacked the controller. Now was the perfect time. With the goal of being as quiet as possible, you crept into Leviathan’s room and made a beeline for his laundry hamper.

“Dooooooooooon’t touch those!” The pitch of his voice rose and fell impressively as Leviathan jumped and scrambled across the tile on all fours to physically block you from the laundry. Did he see your reflection in the monitor? His headphone cord popped out of the PC, its headpiece falling down to tug at his neck, and the gaming controller clattered to the floor. Leviathan slid in between you and his laundry basket like an athlete safely sliding onto a base.

In contrast, you just stood there wide-eyed with a tub of detergent in one hand.

Leviathan stammered a few times, realizing he might have overreacted. “So, uh. You see, Mammon gave us all an earful for letting you touch our clothes,” he explained. “He clearly didn’t listen when Lucifer told us you were doing it.”

“Oh, and you knew? Good job, Levi!"

You both smiled, Leviathan chuckled bashfully at the praise.

"Now give me your laundry.”

His face fell.

“No, wait! I knew you were doing it! But… you know, I never really thought about it. And for once, I think Mammon has a point. So, please!” Leviathan pressed his hands to the floor and bowed his head to the ground. A pose he learned from anime. “I’ll do my own laundry from now on! Just don’t touch it anymore!”

“Why? I've always been careful, I check the tags on your shirts so the colors don't bleed.” All of the brothers' clothes had insanely specific washing instructions. Compared to laundering suit jackets and leather and silk, colorful graphic t-shirts were a walk in the park.

Leviathan did not budge. "That's true. Still, I have dignity that must be protected!"

---

Beelzebub goes through almost twice the amount of clothes that his brothers do due to his regular workouts. Thankfully, he helps you carry them all to the laundry room so you're not struggling alone.

Beelzebub already had everything neatly sorted into two baskets - regular clothes and workout clothes. They were all ready to go when you showed up for the weekly collection. He let you take the lighter one.

Before the two of you left the bedroom, Belphegor called out, "are you doing laundry?" His head lolled over the side of his bed.

"Yeah, do you need anything washed right now? You can put it in with mine," Beelzebub kindly offered.

Belphegor wormed to the edge of his bed and picked up an empty pillow case. "I drooled on this and stuff. Can you take care of it?"

"Sure," you said. "Pass it over."

Getting up was far too much work. Instead, Belphegor loosely balled up the pillow case. With the world's laziest throw, he tossed it in your direction. It managed to sail through the air. It smacked the side of your head and landed on your shoulder.

"Thanks," Belphegor yawned, having already turned his back to you and Beelzebub.

[junethestudent]

Work Ethic

June Note: I have so many inappropriate things to say.

Mommy Sua x F! Reader

TW: Swearing, aggressive behaviors, degrading, and choking.

You had recently started a new job as an assistant for the CEO of a music company, the CEO was a character to say the least.

Kim Sua was not the friendliest person at the office. Often keeping to herself she never paid you attention.

Her lack of attention implied that she wanted you in her office as less as possible. Each time you entered with paperwork and such she shot you a dangerous glare.

Today was no different from other days.

You clocked in and waited for Sua to order you around. Except today there was no call for you.

Until your lunch break hit.

Your desk phone rings out as you open your lunch box. The name across the screen read, “CEO Kim.”

Despite your annoyance you set your lunch to the side and pick up the phone.

“Hello Ms. Kim. What can I get for you?”

“I asked for the income and cash flow statements nearly an hour ago,” her voice is full of bitterness.

“Not that I recall? I did not receive a phone call.”

The other end of the line is silent for what feels like an eternity. Then she speaks again, in the fakest voice possible.

“Would you mind bringing them up now? I would greatly appreciate it.”

The beep indicating the call had ended rang through your ear. Reluctantly, you set off to find the documents and a hot cup of coffee to lessen her anger. As you approach her office you feel an impending sense of dread.

“Ms. Kim? I’m entering now,” you walk into the room and up to her desk, gently placing the coffee and papers down.

She turns and studies you with a smirk on her face. “Well, it took you long enough. What is that?”

She points to the hot cup of coffee placed near the papers.

“It’s coffee, I thought you might want some since it’s fresh.”

“I don’t like coffee,” she says bluntly. Without looking back at you she flicks through the papers, sighing at the sight of each one. Then she pauses.

“The cash flow statement is missing. Mind telling me where that would be?”

She folds her arms under her bosom and grins. She loves it when she has a reason to scold you.

You cannot seem to respond to her question. You swore you had it when you first took the statements. A cold sweat washes over you as she rises from her chair.

“Come over here. Now.”

You comply with her request and step near the edge of her desk, swallowing hard with fear as you do so.

Sua circles you like an animal hunting their prey. She rests her hand on your shoulder and rubs tenderly.

“This isn’t what I hire you to do, is it? All I asked for was the statements.. you can’t even do that for mommy?”

Her use of the word “mommy” catches you off guard. Enough for her to pull your arms back and slam your head onto the table. Her hands faintly massage the small of your back, down to your thighs and up your skirt.

You clutch the edge of the desk and shudder at the feeling of her hands carelessly violating your body.

“I apologize Ms. Kim-“

“Ah-ah! Behind closed doors you call me mommy now~”

You take a deep breath and restate your sentence. “Please accept my apology mommy. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She scoffs and waves her hand in dismissal before reaching to the first drawer of her desk. You can see the outline of an object the color pink.

“Face forward. It’s none of your concern what I have.”

She fidgets with the tight fabric of your skirt until it lifts up, slightly ripping in the process. You can hear the sound of a buckle being fastened slowly, and you know what is coming right then.

“Play with yourself for me, do it nicely baby.”

Your hand slips into your panties, you rub in slow motions which can only stimulate your clit so much. The wetness dripping from in between your thighs was more than enough to make Sua giggle into your ear.

She thumbed your clit and occasionally pinched it until you yelped out in discomfort. The sight of you falling apart piece by piece turned her on more than words can describe.

Her hand brushed against the back of your neck. “Well now, I think I’ll take what belongs to me.”

She slides two of her fingers into your panties and pulls them down until they drop to your ankles. Without warning she spreads your ass and thrusts the strap deep into your cunt.

It feels impossible to contain your lustful whines as she works the strap deeper into your tight little hole. The friction of the silicone against your walls makes you quake in pure bliss. You feel out of control and desperate, enough to make you jerk and twitch and knock items off of her desk.

Including the still hot coffee you just spilled onto the income statement.

“Oh. Why did you do that? That’s naughty.”

Sua pulls your hair back until the back of your head is pressed against her shoulder. Her other hand grasps your throat, tightly squeezing until you’re gasping for air. You only fight her attacks for a mere second as the feeling of her dominating you is so exhilarating.

Each thrust into you is another moan forced from your mouth. Sua won’t let you muffle your cries either, she wants every sound coming from you to be audible to everyone. You’re sure at least one person has heard you by now.

The stickiness of your cunt, the sweat dripping from your forehead, and the lewd noises escaping from your lips make her hungry for more. Sua doubles over you, your hips crashing against the wooden edge of the desk.

You feel dizzy and helpless, your lower half becoming more and more vulnerable as you reach your climax. You quaver as she finishes you off, piercing your cunt with the tip of the strap until you fall onto the desk, your juices coating her strap in lubricant.

With a satisfied laugh she unbuckles the strap and drops back onto her chair.

“You’re not done pretty girl. I haven’t come yet. On your knees.”

You wipe away your tears and fall to your knees in front of her soaked pussy. Your tongue wipes away the juices leaking out as your nose presses against her swollen clit. She forces your head against her, her legs closing and wrapping around your neck.

“Yes that’s it, keep moving that tongue for mommy.”

She bites her lip and stares down at you, praising you for your exceptional work done on her cunt. The feeling of your tongue slipping through her folds and then back into her hole makes her whimper, her dominant demeanor almost slipping.

She quickly regains her composure and rides your face to finish herself off. Her eyes roll back as she comes on your face, her juices squirting out and splashing you in the face.

She falls back and watches you in approval. The sight of your smeared makeup and rumpled clothes is a real accomplishment for her.

“That might have been the best job you’ve done since working here. Now, why don’t you go get a copy of those statements for me princess?”

June Note: This might be my favorite piece I’ve ever written. I think..

@fanfiction4sooya

[writeforfandoms]

Welcome to New York 3

Find the series masterlist

We’ve got a POV switch this chapter! Time to see what Miguel is thinking. Or, in which his friends pester the hell out of him. 

Warnings: Swearing, Miguel is Done with Everyone, Mayday being cute, everybody just terrorizes Miguel. 

Eventual Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Miguel was a busy man. Keeping the multiverse intact was not easy, no matter how much help he had. There were anomalies to keep track of and hunt down, Spider-people to corral, and his own world's problems to deal with. 

In short, he did not have time for this shit. 

"She wasn't a threat," Peter B. Parker, bane of Miguel's existence and continuous pain in his ass, said. "Mayday liked her!" 

"Your baby is not an accurate judge of character," Miguel ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Sure she is, she knows good people," Peter continued, aforementioned baby giggling from her spot against Peter's chest. "She wouldn't go to just anyone!"

"What is your point?" Miguel asked, turning away from Peter and back to his screens. He still needed reports from the last mission, and the list of anomalies waiting to be sent home was getting longer. Which meant they were behind on paperwork. (Well. Digital paperwork, but even so.) 

“My point is that you don’t have to be so suspicious of her.” Peter shrugged. “Might help your blood pressure to be less paranoid.”

“My blood pressure is fine.” Miguel flicked through another screen, frowning briefly. “Lyla, why hasn’t this report been filed with the rest?”

“I’m only doing about a hundred other things,” Lyla said, popping up reclining in an invisible seat. She pushed her glasses a little further up her nose, looking supremely unimpressed. “If you want the reports done I’ll have to stop some other process.”

Miguel clenched his jaw. “Seriously?”

“Yup.” She popped the p, just to be annoying. Miguel had not programmed her to be this annoying. He had no idea where that came from. 

“And Spider-Byte?” 

“Busy.” Lyla shrugged. “She’s got stuff on her plate.” 

Miguel dropped his head. Of course. Hundreds, thousands, of Spider-people, and it was like herding cats - unless there was a clear threat, there was a lot of doing whatever they wanted. 

“You do have some other options.”

Miguel picked his head up to look at Lyla. “No.”

“Shouldn’t you at least listen?” Peter piped up. “What’s your idea, Lyla?”

“Weeeeeeell.” Lyla glitched out to reappear next to Peter, cheshire grin in place. “We do know someone who is really good at organizing things, and researching, and put together a beautifully organized timeline and comparison chart on her own free time.”

“No,” Miguel said, though he felt like nobody was listening to him. (Which was true - Lyla and Peter both ignored him.) 

“Wow, sounds like a great potential employee!” Peter’s grin was amused. “You should do something about that, Miguel.”

Miguel groaned softly. He was not going to kill Peter. That would cause more problems than he wanted to deal with. “I’m not bringing her in.”

“Why not?” Peter shrugged. “Sounds like she’s got all the skills you need right now, and you won’t have to try to corral anyone else into doing it. Frees up Lyla’s time, helps everyone in the long run.”

“She’s not one of us.” 

“And? You’ve okayed jobs for three other non-Spiders in the caf.” 

Dammit, Miguel had forgotten about that. He’d known that was a dangerous precedent to set. 

But he got lucky - Lyla switched back to actually working. 

“Looks like an anomaly popped up on Earth-5119,” she reported. 

“I’m on it.” At this point, jumping through an interdimensional portal to avoid this problem seemed like a great idea. 

“This isn’t over!” Peter yelled, even as Miguel dived into the portal. 

Miguel had three days of peace from that particular argument. Not that it was an argument. Because his mind was made up. 

“Heard something interesting today.”

Miguel grunted, glancing back at Jess, which was close enough to admitting he was paying attention.��

“Margo told me she had a look through the filing system. Apparently it’s in rough shape.” Jess leaned one hip against his desk, arms crossed loosely over her chest. 

Miguel grunted. Yeah, he knew that. Lyla knew that. This was not news, nor was it interesting. 

“Apparently it’s keeping several anomalies from being sent home.”

“And?” Miguel tried not to snap. He did. But he was busy and this was not news. 

“She wants help, since she’s got other things to do too.”

Miguel stopped. Turning slowly to face Jess, he narrowed his eyes at her. But she was immune, holding his stare easily, one eyebrow quirked. “Which one put you up to this?”

“Nobody did. Margo asked for help, that’s all.” Her smirk was all amusement, though. “And I asked Lyla for suggestions.”

One hand lifted and pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. He knew where this was going. “The answer is no.” 

“You didn’t even let me get it out.”

“The answer is still no.”

“Miguel.” 

He looked away first, swearing under his breath. Jess had a very effective disappointed parent voice, he was quite sure it would come in handy with her little one on the way. “What?” 

“I know you have a thing about non-Spiders in the building,” she started, and then paused a moment. “Well. In this part of the building.”

He scoffed. She was not wrong, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

“But we could use the help,” Jess continued, unphased by his attitude. “You and I both know that trying to get one of us to do all that work is not gonna happen.”

Miguel made a face. He did not want to admit she was right, but, well… Margo was unwitting proof of that. And the thought of trying to make any of the Parkers do something like this? It would never get done. 

“Bringing her in would guarantee things would get tagged correctly,” Jess continued, clearly trying to sway him. “In a timely manner, even.” 

“I don’t trust her.” Miguel shifted his weight, planting his hands on his hips. 

“So set someone to watch her for a week.” Jess shrugged. “Have you even checked in on her since you saw her?” 

No. No he hadn’t. Lyla was supposed to let him know if anything happened, since she had access to cameras across the city. 

“Look, if you’re that worried about her, set someone to watch her for a week,” Jess offered, waving one hand while the other propped on her hip. “Make it a training exercise for a few recruits.” 

It wasn’t a bad suggestion, actually. And he hated that he was considering it, that he was even thinking of bringing you into this. You were not to be trusted. There was no way you had really just gathered all that information just because you could. 

But Jess was right - the work did need to get done. 

“I’ll think about it.” A little white lie. He had thought about it. 

Jess narrowed her eyes at him a little before she nodded once. “Go get something to eat,” she threw back at him as she turned away. “You’re looking peckish.” 

Miguel scoffed to himself. He was not! Besides, he had work to do still. 

Since nobody else was going to work on getting the information filed and tagged correctly, he’d just do it himself. 

He lasted less than a week. Six days of going through the information and tagging it in between the thousand other things he had to do. His temper, always short, grew even shorter, until he actually threw an empanada at Peter B. Parker. (It was one of the rare times he did not have Mayday with him, because Miguel never would have thrown anything even close to Mayday.) 

“Is this a bad time?” Jess asked dryly, looking at the smear of empanada on the wall. 

“What do you want.” Miguel couldn’t even make it a question, voice flat. 

“Got an SOS from Earth-10436, two anomalies slipped through there.”

Miguel didn’t react for a moment. Two anomalies. “Peter, you’re with me. Get Spider-Noir, too.” His mask materialized around his head. 

As soon as Peter was gone, Miguel took a moment to look at Jess. 

“You still serious about that side project?”

To her credit, Jess caught on immediately. “Sure am.”

“Fine. You’re in charge. Two week watch, minimum. I want a full report at the end of it.” He narrowed his eyes at her, aware the motion transferred through the mask.

“I’ll take care of it.” Jess turned and sauntered out, subtly smug in her way. 

Miguel wanted to be mad that he’d given in, but mostly he was just tired. One deep breath and he took off. Time to go take care of some anomalies. 

He could admit, to himself, much later, that maybe they needed the help. Him trying to do it all wasn’t sustainable (as evidenced by the healing gash in his side where he’d gotten careless). And if, as he suspected, you were not trustworthy, he’d simply find someone for the job. 

Not that he’d admit as much to Lyla, not unless he really needed to. 

Allowing himself to groan as he collapsed into bed, Miguel starfished out. If only the multiverse would stop misplacing people and cooperate. If only. 

Two weeks passed in a blur. Two new Spider-people were brought in. Canon continued to be maintained in all universes. 

In other words, things continued about as smoothly as could be expected. Something that Miguel never took for granted, considering the absolute chaos that life could be. 

That didn’t mean he was exactly pleased when Jess sent him her report. Lyla had even helpfully attached the pictures from the surveillance. 

Jess had nothing but good things to say. Which would be suspicious, but Miguel knew Jess. She wouldn’t sugarcoat things, wouldn’t lie to him. Not about this. 

“Lyla.”

“Yeah?” The AI appeared in a flash of yellow, watching him. 

“I need an employment contract.” Miguel clenched his jaw, half-hating that he was doing this. But. If it would help them, it would be worth it.

“I’m sorry, you need what?” Lyla grinned, buffing her nails. 

“An employment contract.” Miguel knew what was coming before she even said it. 

“What’s the magic word?” Lyla looked up at him from behind her heart-shaped glasses, mischief clear in the curve of her smile.

“...Please draw up an employment contract.” Miguel tried not to sound too angry, because she’d just make him repeat it.

“Yeah, already done.” Lyla waved one hand, pulling up the contract on the nearest pad. “Have fun reading!” 

Sometimes (often times) that little AI was more trouble than she was worth. At least, that’s what Miguel told himself as he sat down to read through the contract.

The sooner he got this taken care of, the better.

[eldrigeonsss]

How about I hit you with another fnc tidbit this fine morning. I’m in a rly fnc mood, and I am going to be for the next three or so weeks so prepare for the chaos :D

Gillion has attempted many times to bake those raspberry thumbprint cookies.

In all realness, the task should not be as hard as it was. Sure, the process of hunting down the recipe and figuring out what a raspberry was, was a bit of a journey, but the trouble truly came when the ingredients were laid out before him.

Gillion took pride in his ability to cook, it was something he could do to provide for the entire crew, and it made him feel useful. He would not say he had fun with it, but there was also a rhythm to cooking, that occasionally he would find himself in a pretty good mood. He’d justify those feelings with doing a good job, because god forbid Gillion be happy just to be happy.

Baking, on the other hand, eluded him. He didn’t get all the intricate little types of flours, or the different sugars, the fact that everything needed to be in an exact amount. Too much egg, and the cookies would be runny and not hold their shape. Too little, and they would be dry and brittle and burn incredibly fast. Too much sugar and they would burn immediately. Too much vanilla and the entire ship would smell like a baking demon had been unleashed onto the world.

Gillion had achieved just about every single one of those results. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to open up the raspberry jam that he had purchased, because the cookie part was so atrocious. It frustrated him, to no end. Felt like missing that target over and over again, but this time it mattered so much more to him than some silly training. This was Chip, and Gillion loved Chip. Even if Chip didn’t know that fact quite yet, Gillion would miss that target a million times in hopes of hitting it at least once.

Jay even stepped in to help once or twice, readjust the oven temperatures, help him properly separate yolks, sift flour. Every time those atrocious cookies messed up in one way or another, she’d pat his shoulder, and say “he’d like them. You know he would.”

And it was true, probably. Maybe Chip would like them, maybe he’d be ecstatic just to see that Gillion even tried, but he deserved so much better. He deserved perfect, and Gillion was anything but that. Chip deserved cookies that weren’t runny or misshapen. Chip deserved someone who wasn’t faulty like these cookies.

That jar of jam remained tucked into the pantry, for a very long time. That untouched finish line, so easy to open, yet so terrifying to approach.

He could wait, until the cookies were perfect for Chip. Because Gillion loved Chip, but he could not justify being loved back. Not when he couldn’t even bake.

[amazingmsme]

A Little Dusty

AN: Again, I know it’s late but just be glad I’m still tryna pump these out. I’m literally sooo obsessed with Prismo, the flat boi needs to be WRECKED! Anyways, here’s day 14, enjoy!

The Scarab would never admit it out loud, but being stuck in the Time Room with Prismo wasn’t as asinine as he’d first thought. He’s still getting used to his new form, but he manages to get by. And his new roomie was chill, all things considerer. He let him pick out his own room, offered fresh pickles any time he wanted, and most importantly, he didn’t care if the Scarab was actually doing his job.

Despite the hot tub, TV wall, and the computer Prismo introduced him to, he found himself getting bored and restless as the days dragged on. Each day like the one before, more or less. He was starting to understand why Prismo went and made an unauthorized universe. He understood, but that didn’t mean he had to stop cursing the wishmaster’s name for putting him in this mess.

It was one of those days when he longed for the outside world- to hunt down violators across the vast multiverse. But noooo, there was a good chance that might never happen again. He was busy dusting, glaring at Prismo from across the room. He was oblivious to the stare, completely engrossed in his work. The Scarab would watch as he’s hum and giggle to himself before typing away on the keyboard. Some times he wore a more serious expression, typing something out before shaking his head and deleting it. And other times he just stared at the screen, hands unmoving and frown etched onto his face. The Scarab was a little curious what he’d been working on, but he didn’t plan on asking.

He slowly made his way around the room idly dusting at nothing. He’d dusted only last week, but he needed something to keep himself busy. Now he stood beside Prismo, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Could you move? I’m trying to clean.”

Prismo paused and glanced around the room with a shrug. “Looks pretty clean to me Scrabby. Why don’t you take a load off?” he asked, brushing him off and returning his attention to the laptop.

“Unlike some people, I don’t like to leave things unfinished.” Prismo seemed to miss the subtle dig tossed his way and the Scarab huffed in annoyance. “Look, I already cleaned over there, so why don’t you go sit on that wall?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder. Prismo’s gaze didn’t leave the screen. “Prismo!” he yelled with a stomp.

Prismo glanced up for a split second. “Yeah?”

“Move!”

Prismo groaned loudly, looking at the Scarab with annoyance. “Dude, I’m in the zone right now. I just wrote like 10 pages in five minutes!” he bragged, going back to typing. “If I move now, it’ll throw off the whole groove I’m in.”

The Scarab was done.

He threw his hands in the air with an annoyed huff. “FINE, be that way! I’ll just- I’ll dust around you since you won’t move,” he growled out, but Prismo continued to type away happily. It was infuriating, if not cute. Wait, he did not just think that about Prismo of all people…

He resumed dusting with a huff, sweeping the feather duster over his head, working his way down. He was lost in thought and didn’t pay much attention to where he was sweeping, and his general annoyance towards the wishmaster meant he didn’t necessarily care if he dusted him in the process. But he certainly noticed when his duster trailed too close to Prismo’s side, making him spasm and squeal, darting across to the opposite wall, laptop forgotten.

“Wohoah, hey, you could’ve just asked me to move, no need to start dusting me,” he rambled, hoping to mask his nerves. The Scarab just stared at him in wide-eyed shock.

“I did,” he said bluntly. Prismo chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck.

“Oh, y-you did? Sorry, I don’t remember I tend to zone out when I’m busy.”

“So it would seem.” He looked down to the soft tool in his hand and back at Prismo, a sly smirk hiding behind his mask. He noticed that his feet were now resting in the spot he’d previously been, seeing as he jumped to the opposite wall. Now, he wasn’t stupid, he knew what just happened. But he could play dumb.

The Scarab resumed his dusting, humming to himself as he brushed over the tops his feet. Prismo shrieked, yanking his legs away and tucking them close to his chest. He stared at the Scarab with a wide, unblinking eye and gulped.

“You uh-“ he cut himself off and cleared his throat when his voice came out too high. “You scared me.”

“Really?” he squinted at him, walking closer and relishing in the way Prismo was slowly backing himself into a corner. “Because normally, only ticklish people are afraid of feathers.”

He couldn’t hope to contain his nervous laughter or the obviously flustered stuttering. “W-wha whaaaat? N-no way bro, that’s just silly,” he tried to brush him off, waving a hand in the air. “I mean, I’m flat! So, there’s really nothing to tickle, haha! …Right?”

The Scarab arched a brow. “You’re asking me?” Prismo stuttered again and yelped when the Scarab was suddenly standing next to him. Quite frankly, he didn’t know what to say.

“You can go back to cleaning now.” The low chuckle the Scarab let out really wasn’t comforting.

“Okay, if you insist.” Prismo was given no time to ponder before soft feathers brushed over his belly. Bubbly giggles start building up in his chest as he curls in on himself, doubled over where the two walls meet. When the Scarab started swirling the duster in tight circles across his tummy, a loud snort broke the dam, allowing his high pitched laughter to fill the Time Room.

“Scrahahabby whahat are you dohohoing?” he asked, hiding his growing blush behind a hand as he weakly swatted at him with the other.

“I’m doing what you said: cleaning,” he teased in a deadpanned voice, trying to act as though this wasn’t the most fun he’s had since his punishment began.

“Nohohot mehehe!” he squealed when he began targeting his ribs, causing him to dart to another wall for safety. The Scarab tutted and shoot his head.

“Poor Prismo… it would seem as though you’ve nowhere left to turn,” he taunted, twirling the duster triumphantly. He laughed when he noticed him glance at the trap door for a split second. “You’re not really gonna run away from a few feathers now, are you?” he asked smugly. Prismo’s blush grew darker as he failed to speak, crossing his arms instead.

“Well that’s not very nice,” he grumbled.

“Good,” the Scarab said bluntly before sitting down on Prismo’s ankles, trapping them. He barely had enough time to protest before dozens of soft fibers swept over his feet. His giggles raised in both pitch and speed, a few more snorts managing to slip through.

The Scarab had always scared Prismo. He had such an intimidating aura, and everything about him screamed ruthless killer. After living together for a while, he thought maybe he wasn’t so cruel after all, but as he laid there laughing at his mercy, he thought that maybe he hadn’t been so far off with his initial judgment.

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 84

Wakanda was a sight to behold, like stepping 100 years into the future. The towering buildings looked as though they had leaped from the pages of a sci-fi novel. When we exited the jet, Wakandan doctors rushed out, swiftly carrying Bucky away on a gurney. I wanted to follow, but T’Challa advised us to wait in the hospital hall, promising we’d be notified the moment he woke up.

I sank into one of the chairs, a frustrated sigh escaping my lips as I buried my face in my hands. Steve sat beside me, crossing his arms, the silence between us broken only by the soft voices of nurses and doctors rushing by.

"You were right, you know?" Steve suddenly spoke, his voice low, pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced at him, confused.

"About what?" I asked. He uncrossed his arms, frowning, and I could see the weight of everything on his face.

"There’s always something... this life, this job... it’s cost me everything," he said, his eyes clouded with sadness.

I swallowed hard, my mind flashing back to the last time we had been in a hospital together—the bitter words we had exchanged, the pain we’d caused each other. I looked down at my hands, not knowing how to respond. I didn’t want to be right.

"And now we’re practically criminals," he continued, his voice thick with regret. "They’ll be looking for us. I sacrificed our relationship for this job, and now I’m hunted by the very people I used to work for."

His words stung, but I met his gaze, refusing to let him shoulder all the blame. "It’s not your fault, Steve. They would’ve hunted me down no matter what. I wasn’t going to let them take Bucky," I said, though his confession still hurt. He nodded slowly, sighing as he processed my words.

"I’ll go look for a vending machine or something. Want some coffee?" he asked, resting his hands on his hips, trying to offer a small moment of normalcy.

"Coffee sounds good," I replied with a weak smile. He nodded and disappeared around the corner, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Steve returned not long after, two coffees in hand, but the worried expression on his face told me something was wrong. "I have to go," he said, handing me one of the cups.

"What? Where?" I asked, quickly standing, ignoring the heat from the coffee burning my palm. I put it on the table next to my chair before I got up, expecting the worst.

"They’ve arrested everyone who helped us. I have to get them out," he said, his voice firm and resolute. He had already made up his mind.

I hesitated, my gaze drifting to the hall where Bucky was being treated. I didn’t want to leave him behind, not like this. But before I could speak, Steve cut in. "You stay here. He’ll need to see at least one familiar face when he wakes up."

His words left me torn, a wave of guilt and relief washing over me. I wanted to help Steve, but I knew he was right—Bucky needed me here. I nodded, swallowing the emotions that threatened to surface.

Steve placed his cup on the table beside mine, hesitating for just a moment before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around me. I melted into his embrace, my head resting on his shoulder, my arms wrapping around his neck. We hadn’t been this close in months, and in that instant, the flood of familiar emotions—the long-buried butterflies—came crashing back all at once.

"Be careful," I whispered, my voice barely audible against him.

"Always am," he whispered back, his hands splayed across my back, holding on for just a moment longer. Then, reluctantly, he pulled away, letting go of me, leaving behind a bittersweet sense of warmth.

Steve gave me one last smile before he turned and left. I sank back into my chair, feeling the weight of everything settle over me.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, I was startled awake by a soft voice. A young woman stood before me, looking apologetic as I jumped up with a yelp. "I'm sorry, but he's awake now. I thought you’d want to see him," she said with a gentle smile.

"Oh, thanks," I stammered, still shaking off the grogginess as I stood, my back protesting from the awkward sleeping position. She gestured for me to follow her, leading me down the hall toward the patient rooms.

As we walked, she spoke up, "I’m Shuri, by the way."

"Lottie," I replied, eyeing her curiously. She looked too young to be either a nurse or a doctor, but there was a confidence about her that made me wonder. She stopped in front of a door and motioned for me to go inside.

"If you need anything, just press the button by the bed," she added with another smile before walking away, leaving me standing at the threshold, my heart pounding in anticipation.

I stepped into the spacious room, sunlight streaming through the large windows, casting soft shadows from the half-drawn blinds. If not for the hospital bed on the left side, the room could have easily passed for a comfortable hotel suite.

The moment I saw Bucky sitting up, his eyes already on me, I hurried over, resisting the urge to throw my arms around him when I noticed the bandages across his chest. Instead, I sat gently on the edge of his bed, close enough to feel his warmth.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, doing my best to hide the worry that had consumed me for hours.

"Better than expected," he replied with a small smile, though his eyes quickly darted to the door. "Where’s Steve?" he asked, concern clear in his voice."

"There’s something he has to take care of, but he’ll join us as soon as he’s done," I said, keeping it vague to avoid making Bucky worry more than he already did.

He narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced. "Do what?"

"Help the people who helped us," I explained, hoping he would drop it.

Bucky sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of everything. "It’s going to get worse… all because of..."

I gently placed my hand over his, stopping him mid-sentence. "Not because of you, Buck. There would’ve been problems anyway. We didn’t want to sign the Accords—that’s what started all this."

"But it got a hell of a lot worse because of me," he muttered, sinking deeper into the bed, the guilt evident in his voice.

Bucky glanced out the window, taking in the breathtaking view. The distant mountains framed the horizon, and the ocean waves crashed rhythmically against the rocks below.

"At least the view is nice," he said, offering a small, sad smile before turning his gaze back to me.

He shifted slightly, making space for me beside him. Without hesitation, I huddled up next to him, lying on my side with his arm wrapped around me, my head resting gently on his chest. His skin was warm beneath the bandages, a reminder of how close we came to losing him.

I could hear his heartbeat beneath my ear as his fingers absentmindedly played with my hair. Our breathing had synced, a quiet rhythm in the stillness of the room. It was one of those rare moments when everything felt calm.

But suddenly, Bucky’s hand stilled, and he pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at me. "You should try to fix things with Steve," he said, his voice soft but firm.

I blinked, pulling back a bit more in surprise, my confusion obvious. I hadn’t expected that, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say.

Bucky didn’t wait for a response. "You love each other. You’re good for each other," he continued, his words gentle but unwavering, as if he’d been holding onto this thought for a while.

He was right—I did love Steve. But the way Bucky was pushing me toward him as if he thought Steve was the better option, stung. It felt like he was saying Steve was good for me because he wasn't.

"So, what are you saying?" I asked, my voice trembling with emotion.

"I can’t be with you," he replied, his tone sharp, almost angry. My heart sank, frustration bubbling inside me.

"Why?" I asked, my lips quivering as the words left me, feeling more like a desperate plea than I wanted to admit.

"Because I can’t trust my own mind," he nearly shouted, his voice cracking with frustration. "All it takes is one person to say those goddamn words."

"But I can help," I protested, my voice shaking. "I’ve done it before, I’ve snapped you out of it—twice!"

He shook his head, his expression hardening. "What if you’re not there? It’s too dangerous," he said, his voice lower now, filled with a quiet resignation. "I’ve already decided. I’m staying here. They might be able to help me," he added, the finality in his tone leaving me breathless.

We both sank back into the bed, lying side by side, with an unspoken heaviness hanging between us. The silence stretched on, thick with all the things left unsaid.

Minutes passed before Bucky finally broke it, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I just want you to be happy," he said, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, not meeting mine.

"I don’t think I’ll ever be," I whispered back, my voice choked with emotion. "Not without you."

Ached by the desire to close the gap between us, I wanted to reach out, to feel his lips on mine, to lose myself in him and forget everything else. Our gazes met as if drawn by an invisible force, our heads turning simultaneously.

There was a profound pain in his eyes, but also a flicker of hunger and yearning that mirrored my own, creating a silent, electric connection between us.

"I’m not the man I once was, Doll," Bucky said, his voice heavy with anguish. "You don’t want me; you want the man I was before they broke my mind… before they broke me."

The pain in his voice was so profound, that it shattered something inside me.

We both stared up at the ceiling, the weight of our shared pain hanging between us. I reached out and grasped his hand, intertwining our fingers in a gesture of silent solidarity.

Our arms touched, but there was no comfort in the touch—only the acknowledgment of our shared burden. We lay there in silence, the heaviness of guilt and pain pressing down on us. Eventually, the exhaustion from our emotional strain took over, and we both fell asleep, clinging to each other in our troubled rest.

Next Chapter

[circus4apsycho8]

Oh also did I request a oneshot of the reader taking care if the ninja during child's play cause my more is horrible

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝟷 (𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝟸) 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚒 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚕. 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛!

𝚒 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚍𝚔 𝚢𝚎𝚝!

child's play. | ninja & reader

There has to be a story here somewhere. 

You push your way through the sea of bodies clustered on the sidewalk, eyes trying to locate a nearby street sign. Soon enough, you do, taking a moment to ensure that the street name you’re on matches the one on your phone’s map. 

“The museum has to be close,” you mumble, heading down the correct sidewalk. As you do, your eyes occasionally dart to your phone to verify that you’re continuing in the correct direction.

As you round the corner of the block, you notice a few pedestrians milling around, some waiting for the phone booth to open. You pass it, not noticing the hopeful stares of four pairs of eyes looking at you. 

Your mind shifts to the details you had heard concerning the break-in that had occurred within the museum early this morning: the police had caught four children red-handed with a stolen sarcophagus nearby. And although they’re in the process of investigating the museum’s security feed, something about the whole situation seems off. And it’s your job to figure out why and let the world know about it. 

You’re about to cross the street when you hear someone yelling your name from behind you. 

Frowning, you turn, shutting your phone off as you look around. 

“Down here!” 

You shift your stare down, finding four children stationed in front of you. Something about them seems...uncannily familiar, but that couldn’t be because you don’t know any children personally. 

“Hi there,” you greet hesitantly. “What do you need?” 

“You’ve gotta help us!” cries the redheaded boy, eyes wide as he jumps forward and gestures wildly. “We were trying to stop Lord Garmadon from resuscitating the Grundle with the Mega Weapon, but then we got caught up in its spell and it made us kids again and now we’re stuck as kids running from the Grundle but we can’t even go anywhere because we’re kids now!” 

For a moment, you’re speechless as you try to process what he’s saying. You try to be polite, but all that comes out is: “What?” 

The brown-haired boy shoves the redhead roughly. “You can’t just say it like that! She doesn’t even recognize us yet!” 

“My apologies,” adds the white-haired child. “My friend is a bit rattled from the events of the morning. Do you recognize us?” 

“...No?” you wonder, frowning. “Should I?” 

“We’re the ninja!” the black-haired boy cries. “Remember? We work with you a lot during the public conferences!” 

“We just got turned into kids because we were trying to stop Garmadon!” explains the brunet. “Remember? I’m Kai, that’s Jay, Cole, and this is Zane.” 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

“You work as our journalist! Well, kind of!” adds the redhead – Jay? “You’re about to investigate the museum, because wherever there’s trouble, you follow! And we just happen to be there like eighty percent of the time!” 

“You always help us out with the public press conferences,” Cole notes. “You give us advice on how to reply and join in on our discussions.” 

“Are you kidding me?” you respond. “Wait, wait, so let me make sure I’m understanding you correctly. You’re actually the ninja, and during your fight against Garmadon, you got turned back into children?” 

Kai nods. “Exactly. And now, there’s a revived Grundle preparing to hunt us all down when the sun sets. And we’re basically powerless against it!” 

“Oh my stars,” you mumble, rubbing your forehead. Well...this is certainly not how you expected the day to go. But you know they have to be the ninja now, considering what they told you. “Okay...okay. Fine. What do you need me to do?” 

“We managed to get in contact with a teammate,” Jay notes. “We have to meet him at Buddy’s Pizza in three hours!” 

“Three hours?!” Cole exclaims. “Why so long?!” 

“Because! Lloyd has to get into contact with Sensei Wu and Nya, then find a way to get down here without an adult! Which, as we now know, is much harder than we initially thought!” 

Whew. A few hours with mini ninja. This should be interesting. 

“Okay, so...what do you guys need me to do?” you question. 

“We need a ride, for starters,” Kai answers. “We can’t get around anywhere without an adult.” 

“Well, my car’s parked in a garage a few blocks away,” you note. “We could just use that.” 

“That’s perfect!” Jay chirps. 

“Any chance we can stop for breakfast, by the way?” Cole asks, earning an elbow to the stomach by Jay. “Oof! What was that for?! We’ve been out all night!” 

“You can’t just ask her to do that! That’s rude!” Jay admonishes with a frown. 

“Actually, I'm kind of hungry too,” you note. “Fine. Let’s go. You said we have about three hours, right? So, we have some time to kill.” 

“See! She gets it!” Cole taunts victoriously. 

“Just...just make sure you all stay close. The streets are crowded today, and I don’t want to go losing any of you,” you direct, deciding to follow behind them so you can keep an eye on the four. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’re not actually kids, you know! We still remember adult stuff!” Kai announces. 

You sigh, listening to their banter as the five of you start the trek back to your car. As you watch them, you give them instructions on where and when to switch direction when needed. 

Thankfully, you’re able to make it to the intersection leading to the parking garage without much trouble. 

“There it is!” Kai yells, taking a step towards the street. “Come on, let’s go!” 

Your heart lurches as you spot an oncoming car from the right, hand immediately latching onto Kai’s shoulder before he can walk. The car speeds past, making them gasp. 

“Don’t go until I say it’s okay!” you scold as you let go of his shoulder. “You guys aren’t big enough to see around the cars parked on the street! They block most of your view!” 

Kai chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares at the car that had passed. “Sorry. Force of habit, I guess.” 

“You should still look both ways on the street, regardless of your age,” you state, watching as the pedestrian light turns to the ‘walk’ signal. You double-check that the road is clear before ushering the group across. 

Now at the entrance of the parking garage, you watch as the ninja fall into a single-file line. 

“We’re headed to the elevator,” you instruct, pointing towards the mentioned object just a few feet ahead. 

“Elevator! Oh my gosh, can I push the button?!” Jay questions, eyes bright again as he proposes the idea. 

“No way, I wanna push it!” Kai butts in, frowning. 

“Not if I push it first!” Cole challenges. 

“Why does it matter?” Zane wonders. 

With that, you find yourself groaning as you listen to the ninja as they start bickering over who gets to push the freaking button. You wonder how to get them to stop when an idea occurs to you. 

“Guys, you’re pushing my buttons!” you grumble before taking a breath. “Okay. How about this? Jay can push the first button, since he was the first to suggest it. Kai can push the floor button, then Cole can push the button that closes the door. Finally, when we get up to the level, Zane can push the button that keeps the door open. Sound good?” 

Thankfully, this manages to satisfy the group as they agree and quiet down. Jay taps the up button, watching as it lights up. 

“Haha! That never gets old!” he laughs, the four watching as the sign showing the elevator’s current level decreases. When it gets to the ground floor, a ding sounds. 

The door opens, revealing a couple inside. You step in front of the boys, blocking them from butting their way inside first. 

“Please, go ahead,” you say, smiling. The strangers thank you as they exit, the ninja filing in moments after. “Kai, press 3A.” 

“Ha! My turn!” Kai shouts, aggressively pushing his designated button. 

“Use your inside voice!” you remind exasperatedly, sighing as Cole closes the door with his button. 

Thankfully, the group quiets down for a moment as the elevator ascends. Though, you notice that they’re sending each other knowing looks. Are they planning something? 

Just as the elevator is about to stop at the target floor, the four jump in unison. You gasp as they land, causing the elevator to shake. 

“We went so high!” Jay exclaims. 

“It would have been better if we had waited slightly longer,” Zane notes, calmly tapping his assigned button. 

You sigh, watching as they exit with excited chatter about the elevator jump. 

“Okay, this way. Stay to the right, and next to me,” you instruct, leading the group to your car. 

“Echo!” Jay yells. “Aw, man, it doesn’t really echo in here. Lame parking garage.” 

You roll your eyes, pulling your keys out and unlocking the car. You open the back door, realizing you have another problem. 

“Wait,” you say, making them all stop. “Let me see...who’s the tallest?” 

“I am,” Zane states. 

“Okay. You’ll sit in the passenger seat, then, because I only have three seat belts in the back.” 

“Aw, come on!” Kai whines. 

“Kai, shut up,” Cole retorts. “Just be grateful that we have a ride that we won’t have to pay for!” 

“Sorry,” Kai mumbles sheepishly. You chuckle, watching as Zane makes his way to the other side. You help the smaller ninja clamber into the vehicle, making sure they’re all buckled up before you shut the door. 

“Okay,” you mutter, opening the driver’s door and entering. You set all of your belongings down on the console before shoving your keys into the ignition. “Everyone’s all buckled up, right?” 

They respond with a chorus of affirmations. 

“Good,” you note. “Okay. Let’s go eat.” 

… 

After designating Zane as the car DJ and letting each of the ninja take turns picking music, you finally arrive at the agreed breakfast place. After you park, the sound of unbuckling takes over the interior before you exit with everyone else. 

“I love this place!” Cole admits as you hold the door open for all of them. 

“So do I,” you agree, following them inside after they enter. 

“Good morning. Just five today?” the host question. 

“Uh, yeah,” you reply. 

“Alright,” he acknowledges, turning around to pull out the needed number of menus. You notice that he only picks out one regular menu, the other four being paper menus accompanied with packs of crayons. “Follow me, please.” 

After being seated, the host distributes the menus before letting you all decide what to order. 

“I remember these!” Jay says, pointing towards the black and white picture of a dinosaur next to the kid’s menu. “Man, why do they assume that just because you’re an adult means you don’t want to color?” 

“Because coloring is lame,” Kai answers, glaring at his picture of Lightning McQueen. 

“I kind of liked it,” Cole admits, opening his crayon pack. You notice that he was given a picture of a cartoony cat. “I bet I can do it even better now.” 

“You are supposed to color the image?” Zane wonders, studying the cute, furry monster on his page. “Perhaps I will give it a try. I have never experienced this.” 

“How about this?” Jay suggests. “Whoever has the best picture wins!” 

“Wins what?” Kai inquires. 

“The glory of being the best artist on the team,” Cole answers. 

You watch in quiet amusement as they all start coloring, quietly discussing amongst themselves. You can't help but giggle upon remembering that these are the destined protectors of Ninjago – fearsome wielders of the Elements of Creation, all participating in a coloring contest at some random breakfast place. What a strange day. 

After the waitress comes by to collect your orders, you elect to watch the four. 

Kai seems to be scribbling in his color loosely, often going outside of the lines but not really caring. At one point, he even snaps his blue crayon in half - much to Jay’s dismay. He decides to put a pair of angry eyebrows on Lightning McQueen before declaring his masterpiece complete. 

Jay appears to be taking their impromptu contest more seriously, taking his time coloring in the dinosaur but also adding some silly features – like a mustache and top hat. He draws a yellow sun with a smiley face in the corner of the paper. 

Cole elects to go a more realistic route – he colors the cat slowly, taking the time to add smaller details that make the picture appear less cartoonish. He even takes the extra step to add a background, too – it appears to be an alleyway, with another cat perched atop a trash bin. You think you even see him trying to blend the colors together. 

Zane seems a bit unsure of how to start, but after a brief chat with Cole, he decides on a simple design for his monster. He makes its body a gradient of green to blue before adding some yellow for the polka dots scattered about the torso. His markings are neat, calculated, and precise. 

You smile softly, sipping on your drink as you observe the group. This could certainly make for an interesting story. 

Eventually, the food arrives, and the drawings are forgotten. The five of you thank the waitress before tucking into your respective meals. 

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask,” you start between bites. “You guys said that Garmadon revived a Grundle?” 

“Yeah, he did!” Jay confirms. “It’s gonna hunt us down once the sun sets.” 

“You sound a little less freaked out than I expected,” Kai interjects. 

Jay shrugs. “At least I get to go out after a day of reliving some of my favorite childhood moments. Pushing the elevator button, jumping in it, then coming here to color and eat chicken tenders with honey mustard? It’s not a bad last day, you know.” 

Kai rolls his eyes, finishing up the last few bites of his grilled cheese. “Guys, seriously. What are we going to do about this thing? Our Spinjitzu’s worthless!” 

“We’d better hope that Lloyd has an idea,” Cole adds. “I mean...who would know how to stop an animal that’s supposed to be extinct?!” 

“There is little research about them that I can access at the moment, which only adds to the problem,” Zane chimes in, frowning. “Hopefully Lloyd will be able to contact Sensei and Nya in time.” 

“I hope so,” you mumble. “But we do know for sure that it’s nocturnal, right?” 

“Yes, it is. My assumption is that it will seek shelter until dusk before continuing to track our scents,” Zane explains. 

“Awesome!” you chirp sarcastically. “So, you’re basically just hoping that your friend has an idea?” 

“Pretty much. We’ve gotten pretty good at getting ourselves out of messes like this,” Jay notes. 

“Yeah, I know things look pretty bleak right now, but come on! Of all people, you should have at least a little faith in us!” Cole adds. 

Okay. Fair point – they are good at digging themselves out of situations like this. “Alright, alright. Fine. What should we do next?” 

“I know exactly where to go,” Jay states, grinning wickedly. “I’ll explain on the way!” 

With that, the group finishes up eating before you pay. Before you leave, however, you sneakily collect the ninja’s drawings with a soft smile as an article idea occurs to you. 

… 

Jay’s secret place had turned out to be a random playground. 

“Seriously, Jay?!” Cole wonders. “I thought you said that this place would be secure enough for us to talk!” 

“Is it!” Jay counters. “I mean, who would suspect us to form our game plan on a playground?” 

“You don’t even want to talk about the plan, you just want to go down the slide!” Kai accuses. 

“Haha! And you don’t?!” 

Before you can even say anything, the four are already unbuckling and sailing out of the car. 

“Seriously?” you mumble, sighing. Well, since you have to wait anyway...maybe you can at least get some work done. 

You grab your laptop bag, walking over to one of the picnic tables nearby. You sit down facing the ninja before pulling your computer out. 

Their yells and laughter accompany the chirping of birds, only adding to the inspiration for your new article: 

Tapping into our inner child: what we can learn from the saviors of Ninjago...

[grumpypixistix]

Can you do one where Y/N is a spider woman and her and Miguel are in a relationship. Even though he claims to like to work alone, most of his missions involved her. After a verve racking mission, Miguel and Y/N play a game of cat and mouse throughout the city, just let off steam. Miguel eventually catches Y/N (she lets him), and they have a little make out scene (no smut, just a good make out scene)

Of course I can, lovely! :) ❤️

(Also i sincerely apologize for the wait! I hope you enjoy)

Run and hide

Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader

Warnings- No smut just a make out session, being hunted down(?)

A/N- Was this only supposed to take a few days to make? Yes. Did it take me over 2 weeks to finish? ….maybe- (but jokes aside, I’m so sorry for the delay. My mental health isn’t the best at the moment and I was very drained for a while. But I’m a little better now! Please feel free to request more stuff and I’ll get to it when I have the chance!)

Miguel always claimed that he liked to work alone, even though everyone seemed to notice otherwise. Most of the missions he went on, he always brought you with. Whenever anyone would ask about this, he was quick to shut it down, claiming it was purely coincidental.

But you knew that was a lie. And so did he.

The two of you had been in a secret relationship for quite some time, and the two of you agreed to keep it that way for the sake of keeping the Spider-verse together. The last thing Miguel needed was his workers nagging him about you 24/7, especially Peter. You were fine with this, knowing how stressed Miguel could get easily, especially with his job as the leader of the Spider Society.

But it wasn’t until you two went on another mission together when things started going downhill. Plan after plan got ruined, which ended up in nearly getting the both of you killed. It caused a lot of pent up emotions inside of Miguel, the idea of you getting hurt or even killed making his stomach churn and tighten.

So after barely escaping the mission, Miguel came up with an idea to let off some steam. He needed it, and you knew it. With that knowledge in mind, you agreed to the idea, even though he didn’t give a lot of details as to what the idea was. But since you had just escaped a hellish mission with him, you were open to anything.

Miguel opened up a portal in front of you, noticing your confused expression. He then set a timer on his watch, looking up at you.

“I’ll give you a 30 second head start. That should give you enough time to get ahead of me…” Miguel spoke lowly, tilting his head towards the direction of the portal.

You stood there for a few seconds, still a little confused.

“You want me to… run away from you?” You questioned.

Miguel just stared at you in silence, slightly nodding his head.

“I suggest you start now. You’re down to 24 seconds.”

Your eyes widened as you quickly bolted towards the portal, entering into the heart of the city. You began to swing with your webs through the gaps of the large buildings, quickly finding an abandoned building and hanging from the ceiling. You tried to blend in with the darkness of the shadows, making sure to not make a single noise. After some fidgeting around and making sure you were secured, the faint woosh of the portal was heard from afar.

You couldn’t trace where the exact location of the sound was.

Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you tried desperately to look around for Miguel, making sure you were still hidden in the process. Once he finally came into your view, your breath was caught in your throat. You quietly crawled across the ceiling and out of the window, just in time for him to turn his head up to catch a glimpse of your suit colors. Miguel muttered to himself and clicked his tongue, shooting his web and exiting from the same window you had crawled out of.

He didn’t know why, but the hunt made him feel… better. It made him feel like he was finally in control of a situation for once. And hunting you down made it even more thrilling for him, since he knew you wouldn’t get hurt.

And honestly, you could say the same. Trying to run and hide from Miguel made you forget all about the dangerous mission, since you weren’t in any real harm this time. It was just to blow off steam, and it worked.

During the time Miguel had noticed you exit, you had made it far enough away from the building you were in.

At least you thought it was far enough.

You had swung at least 6 buildings south of where you initially were, so there was no way he’d be able to find you… right?

Entering through the fire escape on the roof, you managed to stay hidden once more. The whole building was dark and cold, but you were able to see from the glow-up suit Miguel had made for you. You guided yourself through the building from the light source and found the stairwell, jumping through the gap and landing on the ground floor. And as you continued to look for the exit on the floor, you could hear a faint thud from a few floors up.

Again, not knowing where the source came from, adrenaline rushed through your body once more.

You ran through the dimly lit floor, trying desperately to look for the exit. As you did so, the sound became louder… and closer. The more you ran and searched for the exit, the closer the sound got and you couldn’t find the exit. The more doors you ran through, the more lost you became. You panted and tried to catch your breath, hiding from whatever the noise was caused by.

But then the noise stopped. It was completely silent.

You could hear your thumping heartbeat in your ears, your breath still heavy from running around. You waited for what felt like hours before growing the courage to move around again. After finally being able to calm down and think straight, you looked for the exit as quietly as possible.

But as you tried to move again, you felt a pair of large hands grab you and lift you from behind.

You gasped loudly and felt your back slam up against the wall, making eye contact with whoever it was that grabbed you.

It was Miguel.

He had a relieved expression on his face, forming into a small grin.

“Finally caught you” Miguel panted out softly, cupping your face as he pinned you against the wall.

You didn’t even fight back and keep the game up. You let him take you.

A quiet chuckle left your lips as you returned the grin.

“You’re lucky I let you” You teased, eyes flicking to Miguel’s lips and back up to his dark eyes.

A mutter left Miguel’s mouth as he chuckled and kissed you, taking his time as he held you close. His kisses were soft and passionate, his hands moving from cupping your face to gripping your waist. Your hands ran through his hair as you kissed him with just as much passion, trying to catch your breath with each pause.

But Miguel always pulled you right back into another kiss, not wanting to let go of you whatsoever. After the mission, that was the last thing he wanted to do. But being able to catch you was like a reward to him. His hands trailed everywhere on your body, his tongue slipping into your mouth with a soft moan.

After moments of the heated kiss, the two of you finally pulled away for some air. You looked up at Miguel’s eyes as you panted softly, hands resting on his chest. Miguel stared back at you for a few quiet seconds before letting out a sigh and shaking his head.

“I’m definitely not letting you split up with me on missions now… you’re gonna stick to my side no matter what, got that?” Miguel said lowly, his hands moving up to cup your face once more.

You look and him and slowly nod your head, one of your hands moving to cup over his.

“Okay… I’m sorry I did that, it was a stupid idea anyways-“

Miguel cut you off with a firm kiss to your lips, gently tugging on your bottom lip.

“Don’t say that, cariño. It wasn’t stupid, you were just doing your job. You gave suggestions when the situation needed it… that’s not stupid.”

A sigh left your lips as you looked up at him, a small smile on your face. You moved a little to kiss his cheek, a soft blush on both of your faces.

“Thank you… really.”

Miguel smiled at you and chuckled before kissing your forehead and lips.

“Of course” He whispered back before taking a step away to open a portal back home.

You looked over at the portal and back at Miguel, taking his hand into yours and giving it a small squeeze. Miguel looks back at you and holds your hand as well.

“Ready to go back?” Miguel asks you.

You nod and pull him in for one last kiss, “Never wanted to go back more than now.”

A small laugh left Miguel as you said that, kissing you back and pulling you into the portal.

After that day, Miguel made it into a routine to hunt you around the city after missions, always catching you and bringing you back home safely.

[chaotic-orphan]

hello! i love "the stranger" so much and was wondering if you're planning to continue it?

The Stranger (4)

Read part one here

Continued from here

Hellooooo yes! Absolutely! The first half was in my drafts from febuwhump so this has been worked on in the last few months so wooooo! I forgot about this and the heretic series but now I’m like oh hon hon hon anyway, enjoy!!!!

*~*~*~*~*

“There,” said the Mayor to Hero as he walked into his office. “We did everything you asked, look, even the rug is gone to be dry cleaned. So do you wanna tell me why we had to go through this big song and dance for you, Princess?”

Hero blinked, staring out the Mayor’s window into the street below, back turned to the Mayor. “You didn’t do it for me,” they said, eyes fixing on the sky, blue cast in streaks of orange and reds.

“Then who did I do it for? Myself?” Mayor asked with a scoff. “Jesus fucking Christ. You heroes and your drama. I need a drink. You want one? Whiskey okay?”

“I’m still on the clock, sir.”

“Me too, which means we’re getting paid to drink. Isn’t that wonderful? I love politics.”

Hero rolled their eyes. “I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself,” Mayor said as he crossed his office to a small table in the corner where his decanter of whiskey sat waiting beside two crystal clean glasses. Mayor lifted the stopper with a soft clink as he poured two fingers of the honey coloured liquid. “So how did you know that showing the kid his shadowed brains was going to work?”

Hero turned to face Mayor slowly, and shrugged. “I hoped.”

Mayor let out a bark of laughter, brown eyes meeting Hero’s. “You hoped? Come on. You gotta do better than that, Hero.”

Hero pinched their lips together looking for a better answer to give to Mayor, but honestly? Hero just hoped it would be enough to stop the compulsion or whatever was done to the boy.

Mayor nodded his head to the two leather arm chairs to the right of the window and Hero obliged his request, settling into the one opposite Mayor.

“I think because he said he had to blow his brains out in front of you,” Hero continued, brown furrowing as their thoughts processed. “It’s not a clear objective. How would they know if their brains were splattered all over your wall if they couldn’t see it for themselves?”

Mayor nodded, swirling the liquid in his glass as Hero spoke. He was far better than the last Mayor the city had, Hero thought, observing him then. He wasn’t an idiot, he was shrewd and smart. He saw things from a different perspective but you didn’t have to spell everything out for him. He could put two and two together just fine.

“So you acted on instinct, then?”

“Yes sir.”

Mayor chuckled to himself, bringing the glass to his lips. “I should give you a medal,” he said before taking a sip.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Hero lightly. “Besides, that kid’s death wasn’t what the intended murderer wanted.”

Mayor’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No, I was thinking the same thing.”

“If they wanted to send you a message, or me for that matter,” said Hero, eyes darkening. “Then they could be more organised than I initially imagined.”

It was Mayor’s turn to study Hero’s face as they fell into a silence. After a beat Mayor said: “you think it has something to do with your missing Vigilante?”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t,” Hero replied.

“You and your hope.”

Hero shook their head. “Honestly Mayor, sometimes it’s all I got.”

“Well that’s your job, ain’t it? Be the symbol of hope, be an inspiration. You leave the realistic side of things in the city to me, Hero, and I’ll make sure you won’t be impeded while you hunt this fucking Villain down and make him pay.”

Hero’s eyes met Mayor’s which burned like hot coals, simmering with a dark rage. Hero swallowed and nodded.

“Yes sir,” Hero said and got to their feet. They were at the door, a hand on the handle when Mayor stopped them in their tracks.

“Oh, and Hero? Don’t let the suicide kid out of custody until you find this new Villain. It’s best if we let them presume he’s dead.”

“Yes sir.”

Hero left the Mayor’s office and stepped outside city hall with a feeling of dread curling around their stomach. Vigilante should have told them about the Mayor’s kid. They should have contacted Hero, so why— there was something scratching lightly at the back of Hero’s mind, infuriating and annoying. As if every time they tried to look into the one place they couldn’t, their mind shifted their attention away from it, onto something else.

Hero should contact them. Hero did just that on the way out of city hall. They typed a quick message to Vigilante: meet me tonight? Then pocketed their phone. If Vigilante was okay they would see it, and if they weren’t… well. Hero didn’t really want to think about that.

*~*~*~*~*

Vigilante was stuck in the house when Karma was gone. They didn’t know where Karma went, but they do know that Karma had commanded them not to leave.

“Don’t try and hurt yourself. Don’t kill yourself. Don’t harm yourself or the house in anyway. You are not allowed to put your shoes on, socks are fine. The rest of your time, well,” Karma said with a horrible smile. “You can do what you please otherwise.”

When Karma left, the first thing Vigilante tried to do was leave the house. They swung open the front door and tried to step through but found they couldn’t, as if an invisible barrier was surrounding the doorframe. Vigilante threw themselves against it, over and over and over again, waiting for it to slip and crack, maybe even wear it down. Even after Vigilante had tired themselves out the barrier remained.

Vigilante turned away with a huff, cursing Karma. Their eyes strayed to the window and Vigilante crossed the distance in seconds, unlatching it and shoving the window open. Vigilante stuck their hand out, but the same invisible barrier was there, preventing Vigilante from leaving.

“Fuck!”

They couldn’t leave. They couldn’t leave! Which meant that when Karma came home Vigilante would still be in his fucking house, with no fucking shoes on and no chance to run or flee, or get help.

They were powerless, completely and utterly powerless. Who the hell could even think to win against someone with Karma’s power? What couldn’t he do? The fire boy’s face crept its way into Vigilante’s mind and they wanted to scream.

They wished Hero was here, even if Vigilante had been avoiding them recently. Even Hero was powerless against Karma’s commands. That dead look in Hero’s eyes haunted them. If Vigilante hadn’t been interesting enough then Hero and Vigilante would be dead that night on the roof.

Wait… Hero.

Karma didn’t say Vigilante couldn’t contact anyone outside the house. They didn’t say anything about calling the Hero agency, or— or Hero. Vigilante ran to the door, more specifically the table beside the door and searched for post for Karma’s address.

Nothing.

Vigilante frowned. Okay. That was fine. They just needed to do a little exploring to find Karma’s secrets. Except Karma’s house was huge, like old money huge. More like an estate than a house, with expensive looking dark wooden floors and marble countertops. In front of Vigilante was exposed brickwork that was somehow still insulated to keep in the heat.

Vigilante remembered exposed brickwork from their childhood home, how cold it had been. The damp set in towards the end of Autumn in the rain and Vigilante would be wrapped in layers trying to keep warm as the draught chilled their blood. Yet here, in Karma’s fucking house of all places, exposed brickwork was nothing more than a decorative piece. A “rustic” display.

It made something jealous and violent flare Vigilante’s chest hot, and they turned away from it before they would try to damage the wall. They should take advantage of Karma being gone. Try and find out as much about the Villain as they could so that when they escaped they could tell Hero everything.

Vigilante’s stomach tied itself into a knot at the thought of Hero. Of all the Heroes that could have been in city hall why did it have to be Hero? Vigilante’s Hero. Vigilante should have stopped Karma before he ordered that fire boy to die… God, Vigilante didn’t even know his name and Hero had to see— witness that boy…

Vigilante swallowed and shook the thought from their head. No. They couldn’t think like that. They had to do what they could right now, which was search for any information on Karma. Everything else would have to wait.

The first order of business was to find an office of some sort, or a study, or a… something else that Karma would try and hide from Vigilante. Their best bet was working from top to bottom, and that was what found Vigilante in Karma’s attic. They stood at the top of the ladder, the musty scent of boxes and storage and insulation greeting them with an uncomfortable warmth.

Okay. Nothing there.

Room one complete.

Vigilante let the ladder up and searched the rooms on the top floor. Mostly bedrooms, except for the two bathrooms. Vigilante stood in the door of Karma’s room not really wanting to enter it. Karma… there was something wrong with him, something inhuman. Vigilante grew up in the dregs where the scum of society supposedly lived; crime rates? high. Poverty? high. Death rates? high. The place where monsters were made, or so the stories went.

For Vigilante, the dregs were home. The wrong side of the city is where they grew up, and they didn’t feel unsafe walking the streets because they’re the people Vigilante grew up with, went to school with, worked with.

But looking at Karma’s room in his big, fancy house and his many guest bedrooms and all his wealth— Vigilante couldn’t help but scoff.

The good people of the city were so afraid of the scruffy riff-raff of the dregs, that they didn’t even glance at their neighbours and see the malice that hid within their own neighbourhood.

Of course, the good part of town also made people like Hero, Vigilante had to remind themselves. They’re not all Karma’s… but the fact that he was from the good tracks, the nice part of the town versus the discrimination Vigilante faced when growing up.

The irony was laughable.

Something horrible curled in Vigilante’s gut that they tried and successfully in ignoring as they rifled through Karma’s chest of drawers. That maybe Hero and Karma knew each other once… maybe they went to the same school, walked by the same neighbourhood, knew someone who knew someone who knew each other.

Vigilante forced the thought to the back of their mind as they stormed out of Karma’s room, nothing of interest lying there and slamming his stupid door closed. They didn’t even stop to let themselves think, instead they kept moving. They just had to keep moving, keep moving forward.

It’s not like Vigilante knew everyone from the dregs anyways, so it was a ridiculous thought to begin with.

The only thing that pulled Vigilante from their thoughts was when they pressed down on a handle and found resistance. The handle didn’t budge. Vigilante’s eyes squared in on it. Jackpot.

Vigilante tried again to find the same result.

Okay. Great. They should check the other rooms before coming back to it, just to make sure.

Living room, dining room, kitchen, foyer, hall, pantry, toilet, utility room.

Back to the locked door. It was in the middle of the foyer, and the walls around it were thin, maybe a narrow room like a closet? Or a stairway… maybe a basement? If Vigilante put a hammer through the wall technically they would still be in the house. Or if they somehow broke the handle off the door?

That seemed like the better option. They needed something heavy. Vigilante found a trophy from some golf tournament because of course the bastard, or one of his fucking affluent family members, plays golf.

Vigilante slammed the trophy down on the handle but stopped an inch above. Their hand trembling like before as their arm locked and Vigilante cursed, and tried again.

“No! No! Come on! Just fucking—” they cried, bringing their hand up and slamming it down again and again. “You fucking— shit!”

Vigilante stepped back, panting as they glared down at the door and the statue in their hand. A sudden, angry impulse took over and they pivoted, throwing the statue down the hall and towards a window.

Or they would have.

If their hand wasn’t glued to the fucking thing— because Vigilante wasn’t allowed to harm themselves or the house in anyway.

Vigilante put the trophy back where it was and walked to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and letting out a sigh as they ran their hands through their hair. They needed a coffee and to calm down. They couldn’t do anything else. They could find out whatever was in that room was later.

While they had peace, Vigilante made a cup of coffee that smelled so good and sat down in Karma’s stupidly comfortable couch and turned on the TV. Hero’s face flashed on the screen, a picture of them as the news anchor spoke about the attack on city hall but it still broke Vigilante’s heart. The screen flashed to the Mayor’s address again and Vigilante switched the channel with a huff.

An episode of Big Bang theory later and Vigilante stiffened. They heard a car pulling into the driveway and then the sound of an engine switching off. Door closing. Vigilante could feel their pulse rising a little, but their breath was steady so they were thankful for that.

A key slide into the lock and clicked open, then footsteps and Karma was home. Vigilante didn’t turn to look at him, they just kept staring ahead, taking care not to flinch as Karma’s steps drew closer and closer until he was right behind them.

“You know, most dogs will greet their owner as they walk through the door,” Karma said with his stupid, smug drawl.

Vigilante scoffed. “I’m not a dog.”

“Oh yeah?” Karma asked, leaning down over the couch and placing his hand on Vigilante’s head. Vigilante to their credit didn’t flinch and they wanted to celebrate that fact, until Karma said: “bark.”

The noise escaped Vigilante’s mouth before they could comprehend the command and they felt the red blush crawl from their gut all the way up their neck and to their face, burning hot.

“See? Good doggie,” Karma mocked, petting Vigilante’s hair. Vigilante pushed his hand off of them with a huff, crossing their arms over their chest. “Oh relax, Vigilante. I’m just messing with you.”

Karma didn’t command them to relax, so Vigilante could remain as stressed as they liked. Karma walked around the couch and sat down on one of the seats, nodding at the TV. Vigilante didn’t dare take their eyes off Karma now.

“Big bang theory? Didn’t know you were a nerd, Achilles.”

“Nothing else on.”

“Hmm, and you didn’t wreck the house so that’s a plus,” Karma said looking around. His eyes stopped on Vigilante’s mug on the coffee table, and he leaned forward and picked it up. He slid a coaster underneath and put the mug back down. “Were you raised in a barn?”

Vigilante didn’t answer. They stubbornly stared at the TV, tracking Karma’s movements from the corner of their eye. “Did you kill anyone today?”

Karma laughed. “No,” he said, relaxing back into the couch cushions. “I told you I wouldn’t do that without you anymore, didn’t I?”

Vigilante’s head whipped to the side in anger, eyes blazing. “You can’t—”

Karma turned his head, a smirk on his face and his cold dead eyes froze Vigilante’s protest mid sentence. He tilted his head to the side, his smirk widening.

“What? I can’t do that? I can’t make you watch? I can’t do whatever I want?”

Vigilante’s lips curled back into a snarl. “You won’t get away with it, not after your stunt in city hall.”

“You forget that I wanted what happened in city hall, to happen, Vigilante, so it did. The only reason I don’t know your civilian identity is because I let you keep your mask. You think you’d be so brave without it, hmm?”

The threat struck a chord in Vigilante’s chest that wound up tight. They kept their glare on Karma though because they had nothing to retort.

“Oh, don’t believe me? Vigilante, take off—”

“Wait!” Vigilante cried, stretching a hand out as if that would stop Karma in his tracks. To their surprise it did. Karma stopped the command, but his eyes glittered with that knowing malice. Vigilante huffed out a breath and looked away.

“See? You really want to waste your breath with threats and insults and defiance, when you know you can’t win against me?”

I can’t win, Vigilante didn’t say, but Hero can.

“It’s cute, honestly. You have that can-do hero attitude. It’s why you’re sitting on my couch in the first place if you remember, for foiling my plans of putting the saving the mayor’s kid in the hospital—”

Vigilante’s eyes narrowed. “You were trying to kill him. Don’t give me that bullsh—!”

“— but,” Karma said pointedly, cutting off Vigilante and effectively shutting them up. His eyes glowered dangerously at them. Every place they roamed over Vigilante’s face felt as if there were maggots crawling beneath it. “It would serve you well to remember: not to piss me off.”

“Oh yeah? Or what?” Vigilante hissed. They were so sick of being afraid of this fucking bastard. They wanted so badly just once to wipe his stupid smirk off his face.

Karma reclined back further into the couch, pursing his lips. “You know, Vigilante, the thing about dogs is that if you give them too much freedom they forget their place. Dogs shouldn’t be allowed on the furniture.”

Vigilante stood. “Suits me better anyways.”

“Kneel.”

Vigilante blinked and their knees had already hit the floor. They raised their head and stared up into Karma’s eyes, moving to get to their feet again when Karma spoke.

“Ah-ah, stay.”

Vigilante swallowed the whine that wanted to crawl up their throat, settling all their energy into their glare instead.

“See? Much better, now you know your place.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“Oh, you don’t know nothing yet, Vigilante. In fact,” Karma said, eyes twinkling with cruelty as he leaned forward on the couch. “I have a little trip planned for us tonight.”

Vigilante’s heart pressed against their ribs, as if it had just turned to lead and threatened to break free from their chest.

An outing planned? That meant that… someone was going to die and Vigilante would have to sit by and watch again and not be able to do anything to stop Karma again.

“No—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Karma chided lightly, lifting his index finger and wagging it side to side as he tutted. “It’s a nice surprise. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I don’t want—”

“Shut up,” Karma commanded as he reached his arm back to fiddle for something in his jacket pocket. Vigilante could only stare mutely as Karma pulled out Vigilante’s own phone. He tapped the screen and then turned it to face Vigilante but he didn’t even have to.

Vigilante already knew.

The realisation settling like stones in the sea the moment Vigilante saw their phone.

Hero.

Vigilante’s bottom lip trembled, but they fought it back, biting it to stop it from quivering as they read the short message.

Meet me tonight?

Just three words, three simple words. Meeting Hero was how Vigilante was here in the first place and now Karma was going to force them to do something awful, something… well, Vigilante didn’t even want to think about it.

“Aww, puppy? You’re not happy? Your friend wants a play date.”

Vigilante shook their head, it was the only thing they could do. Karma’s smile turned cruel as he forced his lips into a mocking pout. “No? Well, I guess I’ll just go see them alone then.”

Vigilante’s hand shot out grabbing Karma’s wrist before he could turn away and shooting him a look that Vigilante hoped meant business. Karma grinned down at Vigilante, a flash of his teeth sent shivers down Vigilante’s spine but they didn’t relent.

“No? I guess it’s a date then. I’ll let Hero know.”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸📚📚📚📚🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🔮🔮🔮

keeeeen!

HEYYYY!!!!! THANKS!

15 for 🌊:

---

Eddie takes the ambulance by himself. This is technically outside of his job description and may get him reprimanded. Lyall and Wendy promise not to say a thing. 

Driving through the rising winds and rain proves to be a challenge. El Paso sure doesn’t get this kind of weather. Neither did Afghanistan. Eddie is literally out of his element. Nevertheless, he persists, driving slow and steady - taking care to avoid windswept debris in the road - until he reaches Buck’s house. 

Buck and Maddie’s vehicles are gone. The house is boarded up, but looks otherwise abandoned. They’re not waiting the storm out here, Eddie realizes, relieved. Maybe they left the island? Or… Or maybe they went slightly more inland, to the bar. Fuck. 

Eddie drives in that direction.

---

15 for 🩸:

---

It’s hard to separate. To let Eddie get into a different vehicle. He kind of wants to put Eddie on one of those kid leashes parents use at amusement parks. He can’t quite get his heart rate to slow when he thinks about taking his eyes off of him. 

“I promise I’ll follow you back to the house,” Eddie tells him, when he notices Buck hesitating to get back in the Jeep. “I’m not leaving again.”

Buck remembers the way Eddie exposed his throat. The way he’d laid it all down on the line, given Buck total power over his life. He’ll just have to trust him. As hard as that is, after all this time. 

“Okay,” Buck agrees. “See you at home.”

He climbs in the driver’s seat of the Jeep and tries to stop his hands from shaking. 

There are a lot of things he needs to process in the short drive back to the house. Not all of which he has time to think about.

---

12 for 📚:

---

“I want to make it clear that if what your brother said was true - and you don’t have to confirm or deny - it doesn’t change anything.” Bobby’s words are stern, but his eyes are kind. “If there is support you need that I can provide, please tell me. Otherwise, this team is operated based on merit, and you are an excellent young firefighter, Ravi. End of story.”

Ravi exhales, relieved. 

“Thank you, Bobby,” he says. “Uh, it is true. Sorry I didn’t say anything before.”

Bobby shakes his head. “Not any of my business unless it impacts the job. And in my opinion, it hasn’t.”

---

15 for 🦮:

---

Eddie and Chris come over a few days later. Buck orders pizza. Eddie brings a case of beer. Chris arrives holding a large stuffed dog toy in the shape of a duck. 

“Because golden retrievers are used for duck hunting!” He proclaims, passing Cranberry the toy and sitting next to her on the floor. He hardly even notices Buck, he’s so excited about the dog.

“I’m old news,” Buck chuckles, watching Chris rub Cranberry’s belly and she wiggles on her back, stuffed duck in mouth.

“I promise he does actually miss you,” Eddie whispers. “He was talking about tonight for two days straight.”

Buck smiles. “Well, I missed him, too. And you.”

They eat at the table and Cranberry lies beside Chris on the floor. 

“I think she likes me,” Chris announces, pizza sauce smudged on his upper lip.

---

9 for 🔮:

---

What belief did Buck have in him that Bobby has mistakenly broken? 

“Just hold on a second.” Bobby pleads. “We can talk this out.”

“Can we?” Buck asks, walking towards the door and grabbing his keys. “Because you’re not really talking, Bobby.”

That’s not true. That’s definitely not true, is it?

[starleska]

Huzzah! Art Fight nears its end, I think. I have survived! As have you!…I hope. I’m pretty sure you survived. <3 I know a lot happened there, but we both did ArtFight stuff! You did stuff! I did stuff! You fought hard! Idk if you’re doing any better or worse than before, and idk if you feel bad about any kind of inactivity, but there’s no need to! You’re alive and that’s what matters! If you want or need to take time away a little longer, you can take as much as you need! I’m sure we all love you and will be here when you’re ready <3

Also, since the “war” is over, or ending, we can go back to drawing whatever we want of whatever quality forever again without any pressure or self-imposed pressure to draw something else goodly! Woe! Art be upon ye!

(…I couldn’t remember where I saw your full lil persona before so I’ve been referencing your tumblr pfp and ArtFight pfp and going by memory sorry-)

…love toaster quality art…Ig that proves my point! Though sending this to myself on discord and screenshotting it may not be a good idea…post art fight delirium my beloved. uh let me just-

SCREAMING!!!! okay okay i have been mulling over how to reply to this for days because i was so just. delighted and overwhelmed with this little blorbo-processing universe you've invented for us!!!! F/O Inc...oh man, what a delightful place to work!!! that really is what it feels like logging into Tumblr Dot Com to yell about some new idiot 😂💖💖💖

but now i'm thinking...what exactly are our jobs? do we do fieldwork? certainly you and i are collectors of f/os, hunting down potential obscure characters for people to get obsessed with...what's the corporate hierarchy here? are our clients other selfshippers, or are they the f/os themselves? i'm cracking up at the idea of it being like one of those matchmaking dating services crossed with a crime drama...Ace Attorney style, people bringing in their woes and desperately hunting for an f/o who'll match them perfectly...!!! 😂😂😂 Client, visibly sweating: "Gosh, I-I never usually do this sort of thing, but...it's been so lonely on my dash recently, and I...I was wondering if you had any new, um...Tumblr Sexymen...to recommend?" You, chain-smoking cigarettes with three hanging out of your mouth: "Sweetheart, you've come to the right place. Take a look at these puppies." You yank a thick file from your drawer and slap it down, open, on the desk. "Now, keep an open mind, toots...but you ever hear about this Once-ler fella?" all of the DETAILS in this art are killing me 🙈🙈🙈 your countless cups of coffee, as if you've been trying to cope with the new freaks i've brought into the office 😭💖💖 the little Employee of the Month photo too, oh my gosh!!! i'm honoured :3c and oh my god the TINY Piers, Ramón and Maxime...!!!!!! FUCK the second i get a new laptop and can draw again i need to add to this universe, thank you for coming up with something so brilliant 🥺💖💖💖 accepting new hires for F/O Inc. today! 😉 and HUGE CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU FOR GETTING TO THE END OF ARTFIGHT FRIEND!!!! 😭💖💖💖 so sorry that July decided to kick me in the metaphorical nuts and i wasn't able to attack you back, but THANK YOU SO MUCH for the wonderful art you made me which i treasure so much 🙈💖💖💖 shortly i'll be compiling all the lovely art i received into a little chart, and i can't wait to show off your work!!! i owe you big time 😉 thank you as well for such a lovely pep talk and all the niceness you've thrown my way 🫂 of course i do feel a bit guilty about needing to take a step back and being so open about the burnout, but it's been a busy month for all of us, haven't it? i think August is going to be really nice and fun :3c anyway this is kickass and i'm so glad to be your colleague at F/O Inc. bahahaha 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[redheadspark]

hi hope your having an amazing day, can i request 6 with jack russell? thank you 🫶🫶

A/N - Hello! I love that you sent three requests in, and I figured I would put ALL THREE in this one prompt for you! I hope that's okay and I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting, anon!

Strong

Summary - Jack always had the strength, but now it was your turn to be strong.

Warnings - a mixture of angst and fluff

“Come on, Jack, let me see,”

“It’ll be too much for you, amor.”

“I’ve seen worse on you, and you know it,”  

Jack huffed, inwardly you were giggling at the small tantrum he threw as he finally moved his arms out of his torn shirt, revealing the bruised and bloody backside he was sporting.  You were kneeling on the bed, Jack sitting on the edge and your first aid kit was perched next to you as you threw the shirt over to the trash can.  There was no need to keep it at this point with the amount of rips and blood stains on it.  

The amount of clothes Jack would go through for the sake of his monster hunting was astonishing, there were plenty of trips to the Goodwill to get the kind of clothes that could be used and worn down to threads.  It was almost a comic relief that you were regulars at the local Goodwill store down the street, you both needing to make up a lie that you were helping out relatives who required the shirts and jeans.

The scatted bruises along his backside were brutal to look at, let alone some of the slash marks that were etched in his tanned skin and freckles that seemed to make your stomach turn.  But this was not new for you, and you knew deep down it would not be the last time you would see him bent out of shape.  It came with the territory, of course, you being told that this was his life and he would always place his life on the line.  Jack was a sweet gentle soul, plagued with being a werewolf and fighting other monsters around the world that were more menacing and deadly than him.  

This recent job went far south within seconds, Jack almost losing his life a few times in the process and losing a lot of blood too.  Apparently, the man who hired him was going to double-cross him and a few other monster hunters who were with him, threatening to end their families and loved ones if they didn’t work with him.  Of course, Jack and the other hunters were a few steps ahead and stopped him.

But Jack called you to make sure that you weren’t in danger, telling you to lock down the house and wait for him to get home.  You’ve had other times when your own life was hanging in the balance, merely because you are dating Jack and connected with him.  Jack never took your safety for granted, he made sure you were always away from any danger and you were safe and sound. 

An overprotective fool no doubt.

“These aren’t bad,” You commented as you were wiping away most of the dirt and blood off his skin with cold water, “You’ll scar up but nothing worse than that,” 

“It felt like I was flattened like a pancake,” He grumbled, sounding tired as he rubbed his face, “But we had to make sure that he wouldn’t do anything else to anyone, Amor,”

“I know,” You agreed, grabbing a new gauze to put on the fresher wounds, “But I am perfectly safe here,”

“You don’t know what those men are like,” He said to him, you could hear it in his voice as he still had a bit of anger, “They said they would find you and get to you.  And you know I’ll destroy anything that so much as thinks of harming you,”

“Jack,” you cooed, moving from behind him to stand in front of him to see the look in his bright eyes.  He looked determined in his stance, the small amount of monster hunting in his orbs.  If there was one thing that Jack would never sway on, it was his love for you and his wish to keep you safe.  Even over the simplest things around the house or in your mundane life, he made sure nothing would bring you harm.  You thought it was silly sometimes, but then again, you never dismissed it either.

“I’m here, safe and sound.  You don’t need to worry about it anymore,” You reassured him as you pressed a kiss into his salt and pepper hair, “All I want you to do is rest,”

“I don’t need the rest—“ he was about to argue with you but you shook your head.

“You do.  You’ve always been strong for me.  Let me return the favor now,” You slightly pleaded with him.  Jack saw that you weren’t going to be swayed by this, and maybe he knew better than to argue with you as he sighed and nodded his head.  You grinned, ruffling his hair, and was about to pull away to get him fresh pajamas.  He caught your hand in his own, reaching to kiss the back of yours with his lip and giving you a wink.

“I don’t deserve you,” he mumbled against your hand.  You rolled your head and slightly shoved his face away to release his hold on you.  Jack laughed, watching you go to the dresser to get the new clothes.

“On the contrary, It is I that doesn’t deserve someone with a big heart like you,” You said, then tossing him new pajama pants and a new shirt.  As he was getting on the new clothes, you were working away to get some more remedy items that would work for him and his recovery, ointment for his skin, diffusing oils, and his favorite shows to watch on the television.  Some jobs were lights and he didn’t need too much to wind down, other times they were exhausting almost making him collapse to the ground.  All you could do was be there for him every single time he needed someone to hold him up and bring him back to himself.  Back to the same Jack that you knew and fell in love with.

When Jack was finally in his pajamas, back on the mend and coated in gauze and ointment, you walked over to wrap him in your arms.  He let you, almost melt into your hold as you were bringing him some peace and comfort.  Jack knew how to comfort you when you were stressed from work or with family, bringing you soft words and gentle touches.  

You pulled him into your embrace as you two were on the bed together, Jack’s arms tight around you as if he were afraid you were going to float away from him.  

“You know I'll always have your back,” You said to him gently.  He sighed, nuzzling into your embrace as you both zoned out on the show that was on the TV.  Jack always had strength behind him in all he did, he had to.  But now it was your turn to have the strength to him.  And you were willing to give every ounce of strength you had to keep him safe in your arms.

The End.

Hurt and Comfort Prompt Session

[serendipitous-imagines]

Hello there! I hope I don't sound rude! Apologies if I do!

For JJBA, would it be okay if there was a scenario where Giorno and Josuke act different due to a Stand?

Giorno acts hyper, bubbly, and adorable while Josuke acts super-shy, timid, and adorable? And general cuteness ensues for their gf?

Oh My Worm!! I love this concept!!! This was so fun to write!! I hope you enjoy it! Also don’t worry you didn’t sound rude at all, friend!!! Maybe this will need a part two? Who knows! But I did enjoy it a lot! Thank you for the request!

GIORNO GIOVANNA

✦ You had been calmly sitting with Bruno and Abbacchio in the typical restaurant, mostly passing the time and waiting for Giorno to come back. He had been sent out on a mission with Narancia and Mista, the usual stuff, from what it sounded like, it was probably taking down some drug traffickers. Though, for such a simple job it was taking a while. But then again, Giorno was out with Narancia and Mista, and you knew how those two sometimes got carried away or distracted on the way back. A sigh left your mouth as you stood up and stretched. “Thanks for the meal, you two. I think I’m going to take a little walk. I’ll probably be back in like ten or twenty minutes,” you told the both of them, being met with nods. You gave the two a small wave right before you were about to open the door and head out. Suddenly, you felt a body crashing into yours and a familiar set of arms wrapping themselves around you. “Y/NNNNNNNNNN!!!” an extremely familiar voice called out, shaking your body around in their embrace. You had to blink a few times to really process who this was and what was happening. “Gi..Giorno?” you sputtered out in shock, never having seen your boyfriend act this way before— at least not in public. “Oh Y/N! I missed you so so so soooooo much! I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole time~!” he chirped out excitedly as he nuzzled his face into your neck, his hands rubbing up and down your back with no real rhyme or rhythm to their motion. Your body was starting to get extremely warm from all the attention and energy, wrapping your arms back around Giorno’s shoulders. A small giggle left you feeling Giorno starting to attack your neck with kisses, your hand pulling him out of the doorway with you to a side room. “What’s gotten into you~?” you asked in a playful tone between all of the kisses to your neck.  Almost as if summoned, Mista and Narancia ran through the doors, panting and looking around, breathing a sigh of relief seeing Giorno holding onto you. “So.. what happened?” you asked the two, letting out small giggles whenever your boyfriend would tickle your sides. “So uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Giorno was hit by a stand user and now he’s acting all completely lovey-dovey and hyper! Total opposite to how he is!” Narancia said, moving his hands around to kind of gesture to his body. “I can tell that—“ you said, squeaking when Giorno kissed your neck again, making you start blushing harder. “It shouldn’t last forever,” Mista added, winking at you. He was a bitch for doing that, now your face was even redder knowing that he was teasing you for it.  “Well, thank you guys,” you glared at Mista, “I’ll go take Giorno and we can wait for this to wear off. Tugging your boyfriend around until you could get him into one of the rooms Bruno kept private, you sat him down on the couch and hopped into his lap, planning on soaking in all of the giggly and energetic love this stand gave Giorno for a while now.

JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA

✦ It had been a couple of hours since Josuke had left with Jotaro to go on a hunt for a suspected stand user. Usually going out with Jotaro only took an hour or two, so this was atypical to say the least. You were starting to get extremely worried for your boyfriend— was it possible he had gotten hurt? Or had something worse happened? Anxiety and dark thoughts could not help but bubble in your mind, you knew just how dangerous some stand users could be and while you had faith in both Josuke and Jotaro, you could not help but feel worried. Your thoughts were interrupted by a barely audible knock on the door. Immediately your body moved faster than your mind, practically flinging the door wide open. “Josuke?” the concerned tone left your mouth seeing your usually confident boyfriend with his face buried in Jotaro’s bicep and his ears a bright red. “Is he okay?” you asked Jotaro, watching as Josuke slowly turned his head to look at you, his face getting a brighter pink.  “He’s fine, he was hit with an effect from the recent stand user we encountered. The effect should wear off in a couple of hours,” Jotaro nudged Josuke forward into the doorway, practically shoving your boyfriend right into your arms. “Call me if anything happens,” Jotaro said before giving you a nod and turning around to go off wherever he usually went.  Josuke was covering his face with his hands and trying to avoid looking at you. Out of curiosity, you wrapped your arms behind his neck, swaying his body side to side with your own. “Josuke, what’s wroooonnngg~? I’ve never seen you act this way before~” you asked affectionately, finding this new shyness to be extremely adorable. Josuke let out a soft whine and shakily placed a hand on your hip, still avoiding eye contact. “You’re just… so beautiful… my heart is racing way too fast,” he mumbled as quietly as he could, shrinking into himself. A soft squeal of excitement at his cuteness left your mouth as he buried his face in the top of your head. 

[kdinjenzen]

Job hunting should be reclassified as a form of employer/corporation abuse ngl. Because it feels like they keep doing everything in their power to drive prospective employees into the ground to mold them into the perfect underpaid overstressed and obedient worker.

Here’s the real tea.

If your recruitment process involves more than 2 full rounds of interviews, your tentative applicants deserve to be paid for their time as much as the people interviewing them.

Any job that pays less than $70,000 should not have more than 2 interviews. These interviews should be between 30-45 minutes. This should not be as huge a deal as it is, and because it IS, it keeps people out of work for far longer then they want.

Recruitment calls should be 15 to 20 minutes, no more than that so they don’t waste either sides time. They should absolutely not be an hour.

Jobs above $70,000 in pay can, and likely should, make better use of the interview process. Such as going in the line of “Hiring Manager > Entire Team > Department Lead > CEO/VP/etc > HIRED/NOT HIRED”. Likely these jobs are for management or department leadership positions AS IS, so making sure the person is a good fit and will properly help those they manage grow is important so more rounds of talking makes sense. But even so… lots of underpaid jobs are doing 5 to even 8 rounds of interviews.

I’ve spent the last 11 months thinking about the entertainment and video game industry hiring practices because… it’s all I’ve been able to do on my quest for a new job… and to say that it is UNREFINED and most of the folks handling it all are UNDERSTAFFED in their departments is… an understatement.

I could go on for days about this… ultimately I’m just tired and frustrated and I just want a JOB so I can live and yet it seems impossible right now.

Hell, on top of all that, I’m still waiting on checks to come in from freelance work I did MONTHS ago which just… payment shows up when it does, and that’s apparently “totally fine and normal.”

[alexanderlightweight]

happy Wednesday!

Im the anon who gave the prompt that led to to "the vines that bind" and 1) I wanted you to know how much I loved it. Magnus asking alec what he thought simon thought of his jewelry? I was cackling. It's so, so good and I couldn't have been more impressed with what you wrote. I'm so soft for any fics of yours that have greenhouse or gardening

And 2) I would love love love a follow up to it, maybe an in depth look at one of the hunts that you mentioned at the end of the fic? (Or Simon continuing to make a fool of himself in front of Alec lol)

Ah anon thank you so much for that original prompt and this one, okay? I had so much fun filling it and I love that verse. okay so i actually filled the portugal hunt and it's on ao3 as a wednesday request

so here is just everyday in this verse having a rough hunt and Simon making it rougher, I hope you enjoy! i love that you enjoy the greenhouse and gardening fics too!

lumine

“Alec, you uh, have a little something there.” Simon motions to his face, like that tells Alec anything. Especially when he knows he looks a mess, having had to carry one of his shadowhunters two miles and bleeding out like a broken cup.

Alec turns, looks down at Izzy’s mess of a boyfriend, who is clean and fresh and probably popped over from whatever mundane establishment he’s been haunting.

His hand is covered in blood and Alec, with a flat, deadpan expression, rubs across his face and stubble, smearing blood and viscera across his skin and scruff.

“Did I get it?” He asks, dry and waiting and Simon looks like he’s seen a ghost, stepping back and eyes wide and throat bobbing as he tries to swallow and breathe. It’s not the blood either, Simon doesn’t crave angelic blood nowadays unless it’s Jace’s blood and Alec raises a brow.

“Uh, wow. Okay. No. You didn’t at all. But I’m gonna just go and let you be, you’ll figure it out when you clean up. I’m sure.” And Simon speeds off, a blur as he goes to finally bug Izzy and give them all a break from his presence.

“Do you know what that was about?” Alec asks his second, Mirai is only two months in, but she’s been angel-sent and not in a bad way, even making sure that Alec is covered and undisturbed when he sleeps at the loft.

“No, sir.” Mirai tells him, tone clipped and tired and then she smirks, something dark in her smile. “I try not to listen when he speaks.”

“Lucky bitch.” Alec mutters with a fond note to his voice and he gets a respectful, ‘sorry bastard’ in return and nods his head, knowing that it’s a sincere comment. “Get some rest while you can,” he tells her and when she raises a pointed brow, he shakes his head. “I’ll have Alyssa wake you when I leave, but for now, I need you to rest up. This—” and he waves his hand, “won’t be settled for a while. You’ll be helping me by being fresh and available when I finally sign off for the next twenty-four.”

Immediately she nods, pleased and accepting and Alec wonders how he ever managed to survive as long as he has without a second like Mirai.

Mirai who can call him a bastard in front of every single member of his Institute and they will all know and understand that there isn’t an ounce of disrespect in her words. Someone Alec can tease and when the timing is good, be met with fondness and amusement.

It’s almost a habit now, the two of them disparaging over the other’s duties and grateful that they aren’t required to do each other’s jobs.

Alec forgoes the showers and heads straight for his office, unlocking the private showers that he rarely takes the time to use. The decontamination process is quick and then he leans against the wall, letting the heat pound against his aching back.  He’ll need an iratze now and possible another later and he’ll need to call Magnus, let him know he’ll be late.

Alec gets a towel around his waist and then he lets it drop, too tired to deal with it as he trudges over to the steam covered mirror. He wipes it away, making sure there aren’t any scrapes or obvious bruises on his face and he winces as he takes off the ear cuff Magnus had picked out for him that morning.

It’s a little dragon, curled around the cartilage and Alec washes it carefully, getting the ichor out of its grooves before he puts it back and then he carefully washes his face. There is a stud through his eyebrow now, made of dark metal and the gem is hidden behind muck.

Finally done, and presentable enough to not send Magnus into a panic, Alec summons his stele and sends a quick-fire message.

Barely twenty seconds later and Magnus is portaling in, the view of a shocked face disappearing as Alec and whoever Magnus was with get a glimpse of each other.

Magnus stops, staring at him with wide, hungry eyes and then he snarls and opens the portal back up, hand reaching through it and Alec can see the tensing of his muscles and wonders what Magnus is doing.  He finds out a moment later when Magnus holds a glossy mass of writhing tendrils in his hand and then he crushes them with magic.

“It was their memories, or their eyes.” Magnus tells him, nonchalant and content the closer he steps to Alec. “Darling, you look exhausted?”

And Alec ignores the world and lets himself fall into Magnus’ arms as they come around him.

—

Magnus follows Alexander, long after he could have left. It’s become route, for Alexander to contact him after any battles that have casualties, so Magnus doesn’t accidentally hear down the pipeline that a shadowhunter has died and wonder.

As it is, Magnus is rather done with the entirety of the Institute and every single one of them seems to need to ask Alexander a question, right now.

Finally, he’s about to have had enough when Simon shows up. Running his mouth faster than even his feet at vampiric speed will allow.

“Oh, hey you uh. You still have something there—” Simon says, like he’s trying to be discreet while he’s also motioning to Alec’s entire face.

“Yes Simon,” Alexander drawls and it’s so dry that Magnus is surprised Simon hasn’t already wilted. “It’s called my face.”

“No, not that!” Simon says, like Alexander’s face is anything but a priceless treasure, “the uh. You have piercings on your face. Like, they’re stuck there.”

“They’re not stuck.” Alexander tells him, with more patience that Magnus thinks is due, “they’re pierced. It’s why they’re called piercings, Simon. Izzy also has them, is this not something mundanes have?”

Simon blinks, like he’s not sure how to respond and Magnus hides a snort in Alexander’s shoulder, because Alec definitely knows that mundanes also have piercings.

“Right but, why do you have them?”

Alexander sighs, rolls his eyes up and over and then he crosses his arms. “Simon, you can either ask me inane questions you have no need to know the answer to, or you can shut up and get out of my way. Only one of those options is going to go well for you.”

Simon disappears and Alexander’s shadowhunters close in like a wall, ensuring he can’t come back the way he left.

“Alexander, you need to eat—” Magnus cuts in, when yet another hunter tries to take his boy’s attention. Every single hunter in earshot freezes, staring at Magnus with wide, horrified eyes as they turn, like a hive mind and disperse.  “What in Edom?” Magnus murmurs and Alexander is chuckling as he comes over and lets his head rest against Magnus’ shoulder.

“Mirai made it clear that you taking care of me like you do, is a priority. She’ll go toe-to-toe with any hunter who interrupts you on the sparring mat, it’s been pretty effective.”

Because Alexander doesn’t have time to defend his relationship the way shadowhunters so often enjoy doing, but he now has a second to rely on and Magnus is going to send her something.  A basket of throwing knives and garrotes and polishing ointment perhaps.