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#like GET THAT STAFF OUTTA HERE. START SHOOTING.
chromaji · 11 months
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just testing eo5 real quick and i forgot the warlocks can wield GUN.
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bunnypansy · 2 months
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Whiskey, Neat
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Rated E, for EVERYONE!
Boothill is the most annoying customer you have to deal with.
Featuring: Boothill and YOU!
Beware! This film contains: Probably OOC Boothill (made before his release), gender neutral reader, the reader doesn't like straight whiskey sorry guys, not quite frenemies to lovers....? more like two ppl annoying the fuck outta each other, Boothill threatens to kill you once or twice, but he also flirts, a touch of angst at the VERY end, mention of sexual harassment but it's just the reader calling Boothill a creep I repeat there is zero sexual harassment in this fic
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Boothill is a thorn in your side. No, no; you find yourself thinking that comparison is too tame. To you, Boothill is a girdle made of barbed wire. You thought it impossible to hate a man at such a depth until you met the outlaw. He always smelled like hot pennies and diesel, never paid his tab, and harassed the rest of the bar staff to such a degree that none of them would serve him. Except you.
For the first few months of your “relationship”, you were only acquainted with Boothill from the countless times you had to drag him away from the bar top and throw him out the front door. Shortly after that, your boss said you should learn a thing or two about bartending for “no good reason”. You were starting to catch on. Soon enough your position as security faded away and was replaced with “the guy who dealt with Boothill”. You can't complain, the pay is better and you have the eternal gratitude of your coworkers.
In a matter of mere seconds, the front doors swing open, and three deafening gunshots shatter the eardrums of everyone in the bar.
“Alright, everyone out.” Just like that, you watch all the good tips run right out the door, along with the rest of the wait staff. Now left in an empty bar, Boothill throws his arms wide, gun still held tight in his metal fingers. “I'm back, baby! You miss me?”
The revolver takes a seat at the bar top before Boothill does, slammed down hard against the wood, its barrel pointed right at you. You're not worried, Boothill doesn't shoot on accident.
“Like a hole in the head.” You quit cleaning a glass and glance at the new bullet holes placed just above the door. “Or the ceiling… order your drink and get the fuck outta here already, Boots. You're killing business.”
“Keep mouthin’ off and I'll be killin’ more than business, sweetheart.” As if to prove his point, the freak of nature spits a few bullets onto the bar top and starts reloading his gun.
You can't help but roll your eyes at Boothill’s threats. The man offers to shoot you every other breath, but he'll never do it- if he was going to kill you, you'd already be dead. You're the only man still alive who talks to Boothill like that. Probably because you're the only man alive who’ll still serve him a drink. “You're not gonna kill me, Boots. Piss off any more bartenders and you're gonna have to get your fix from the hand sanitizer in public bathrooms.” 
A deep scowl takes over Boothill’s face. “You're just askin’ for me to hop this counter and kiss you right on that pretty mouth of yours.” He stops then, equal parts embarrassed and furious as a hand comes to grasp at his own throat, surely cursing his internal censor system.
“Wow, sexual harassment, that's a new low, even for a hunk of junk like you.” You snort and a short glass finds its way into your hands. You're already pulling the strongest whiskey you have from beneath the counter, knowing Boothill will ask for it any second.
As if intentionally subverting your expectations, the outlaw kicks his feet up on the bar with an amused chuckle and a smug smile that makes you want to punch his teeth right out of his face. 
“You just call me a hunk?” Six words in and you're already exasperated beyond belief. He's leaving crusty speckles on your clean bar. “Darlin’, if you wanted to take me out so bad, you coulda’ just asked.” 
You elbow Boothill right in the ankles; it brings a mild ache to your arm as bone meets unrelenting metal, but the pain is worth it to watch the self-satisfied prick lose his grin and nearly fall out of his chair. “I’d rather drink a pint of sand and chew the glass it came in, take your drink and get outta here.”
The glass slides across the bar just a touch too fast, the liquid fire inside threatening to slosh over the sides; if Boothill's hand hadn't shot out to catch the glass, it surely would've sailed right off the bar and shattered on the floor. 
“Come on now sweet thing, don't act like you hate me.” He recuperates much too fast, already leaning on his palm. There's a horrible, discordant shrieking emitted by the friction of metal against glass; Boothill running his fingertip around the rim of the glass. “Can't deny we’ve got some kinda chemistry.”
“Oh, it ain't acting, trust.” You snort at Boothill’s shot at… Well, you're not sure; could this be called flirting? If so, it's a laughable attempt. “We've got chemistry like bleach and ammonia.” 
You know he's got some smart-mouthed response when Boothill bares his pointed teeth in a massive grin. “Could say we'd be… breathtakin’?” 
It's horrible. That joke is worse than any sugar-coated insult Boothill could toss your way. One hand shoots out to grasp Boothill’s glass, the other going to grip his chin. 
“Agh- what the-” You don't give Boothill time to finish, wedging your fingers between his razor-sharp teeth to pry his mouth open and dump the glass of whiskey down his throat. He gargles once, coughs twice, and swats at your hands furiously. 
“You had your drink. Now run off, you robotic trash-eating vermin.” Fresh bruises are purpling on your wrists from Boothill’s strikes. It could still be worse. He could tell another joke.
Boothill is still sputtering like a drowned rat, grasping at his throat and swearing- or doing his best impression of it. “What in heaven’s holy gates, darling!?” He coughs again. “You tryna’ give me a heart attack you cute little minx?! Who just pours a drink down a man's throat?!”
“Someone who's trying to get the man to leave. You had your drink, now scram before I call animal control.” You reach to take away Boothill’s empty half-glass, only to get caught in the outlaw’s iron grip.
His spare hand slams down against the bar top, a cacophony of delicate tinkling ringing out as glassware rattles and bumps against itself. “Oh don't pull that cute crap with me, sweetheart! Pour me another one, so I can drink it nice and slow.” 
“You're a jackass, you know?” The words come out hissed between your teeth, roiling with barely concealed hatred, but you’re already moving to pour him another. Every time you encounter Boothill, you curse his stubbornness. 
“Watch your mouth.” His grip relaxes slightly, but he keeps his stern expression as he sits back down. “Whiskey, neat.”
You almost laugh, jerking your wrist out of his grasp- does Boothill seriously think you need a reminder? Though you’d much rather kick him to the curb with a few extra bullet holes in his ugly hat, you pour Boothill a second drink with an insulted scoff. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you fuckin’ drink.”
When Boothill takes the drink this time, he tilts the glass towards you in an encouraging motion. “Pour one for yourself, too.” The look you give him must be an incredulous one, because he scowls and waves a hand at you dismissively. “Aw, Pete's sake. Just do it!”
The sigh you heave is so heavy that Boothill briefly looks for an open window, thinking there’s a draft coming in. You drag your feet through pulling down a second glass, lamenting that now you have two dishes to do when the outlaw leaves. The pour you give yourself can be more accurately called a sip, barely coming to the width of your finger. When Boothill shoots an exasperated look your way, you already have a retort prepped for him.
“Not all of us can drink in the middle of the damn day, Boots.” You stare down at the drink, swirling it lightly with a disgusted grimace. “Besides, I’m no fan of straight whiskey. I’m more of an Old Fashioned kind of guy.”
The way Boothill smiles smugly makes you wanna punch dents into his metal chest. “Oh, bless your heart, that’s cute. Stuff’s too sweet for me, personally.” He lifts his glass to you, asking for a toast.
“Too sweet? Hell, Boots. Maybe hand sanitizer is a good match for you.” Reluctantly, you tilt your glass towards his, the rims letting out a high ringing as they meet.
This time Boothill pulls an exasperated face, raising the glass to sit just in front of his lips. “Just drink already, I’m tryna’ be nice, and you’re out here ruinin’ it with your smart lil’ mouth.” 
After a second of hesitation, staring into the amber, you tip the glass back and let the drink slide down your throat. It burns, chemical and hot, like sandpaper tearing through your esophagus. It’s all you can do to not dry heave at the feeling, but you can’t stifle a coughing fit. “Fucking hell- how can you drink this shit?”
The drink came much easier to Boothill, nursing his whiskey as if he were only sipping on tap water. “Guess I just got a more refined palette, sweet thing. Thanks for sharin’ a drink with me anyway. You make a guy feel less lonely.”
For once, Boothill seems strangely earnest and you can’t help but be put off guard. You suppose, with such a polarizing personality and by the very nature of outrunning the law, Boothill must live quite the isolating life. Then again, if he wanted to be less alone, he could simply stop getting himself kicked out of bars. Still, you stumble over your words for a second, looking for a proper thing to say, and in the end only muttering out a sorry; “Yeah, sure, no problem.”
Even to you, that doesn’t quite make you sound like yourself. Dishes, you have dishes to do, a distraction that can carry your mind away from Boothill’s odd shift in demeanor. You’re expecting a snide comment about how quiet you’re being, but when you look back at Boothill, he’s fixed his gaze on an empty wall; clearly, he’s far away from here. You’re trying not to think about it too hard- Boothill’s seemingly flirtatious remarks, asking you to drink -but in the empty bar, it’s silent, and it’s almost… nice.
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I SWEAR I'M WORKING ON REQUESTS. I PROMISE. the Barbatos fic is coming out to be twice as long as just about anything else I've written so it's taking a long time. I saw Boothill things and was possessed by spirits to make this. Also. Yes inspired by the Hozier song
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squerlly · 2 months
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Flames of Desire chapter 12: How Unfortunate ~
Alastor x (F! bunny reader) TW! violence, use of weapons, Vox being an insecure bitch, Angst
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Alastors POV:
it's been two days since y/n has gone missing, I have searched every street, every hiding spot, and killed many people for even a hint of where she is but...nothing. Charlie and the others are worried sick, it's not helping the fact I told them I had this matter under control, but the more I come back empty handed the more I'm starting to doubt myself. I can't afford to lose the one good thing I have down in this wretched place, I need to find her I must find her...
my thoughts were short lived when my door busted open, with a growl I turned "Who dares to-" "There is a package for you downstairs" "Charlie can't it wait-" "It's about y/n!". I faze through the floor in a hurry, heading straight for vaggie who is holding a box in her hand with a frown. I snatch it from her hand and with no hesitation rip it open, ripping it open I see a cloth soaked in blood that smells like y/n with brown fur and a business card from Voxtek...
everyone backs away from me as symbols of my magic surround me, static emitting from me with a stare on my face that could kill. I turn my head a crack in my neck following "Angel" he flinches and looks at me "W-what" "You work at Valentino's studio correct!?" he nods and I walk up to him "That means you know your way around Vox's headquarters!" he nods again trying put distance between us "y-your not seriously gonna go in there...right?"
Charlie stands between us "Al maybe we should go with you-" "NO, this is a personal matter!!, excuse me I have some unfinished business to take care of" If Vox wants my attention well...he's got it now. with the snap of a finger, I teleport me an Angel in front of the Vees building "Navigate me through that building, you get y/n and I'll handle the rest"
your POV:
"That's enough Val" "Aww come off Voxy, we're just getting to the fun part~" As Valentino drops me I land on the floor with a loud thud, blood running down my chest from cuts and bruises. "we sent a nice message to your little Bambi, that will surely speed up his arrival~" "fuck you, you flat faced bi-" my head shoots to the side as I feel a sting from the hard slap Vox gave me "learn your place, you should be threatening me knowing your current situation!" "Alastor is gonna get here and he's gonna kill you-" "he's not gonna do shit! not when I have his bitch on a leash~"
the conversation is cut short when Valentino's phone goes off, answering it, it sounds like one of his studio managers. Valentino ends the call "he's here" he says with a grin "Perfect". Vox leaves the room Valentino following behind him, I let out a shaky breath followed by a wince from the pain. at this rate, I might faint just from blood loss, I have to hang in just a little longer....
Alastors POV:
entering the building I make quick work of the staff working on the first floor, Angel leaving to head upstairs for y/n. I intend to wipe every demon in this building, Vox has been getting on my nerves for far too long, and it's time I bring this to an end. I walk into the elevator going up to the second floor, the elevator opens and I see Valentino standing in the middle of the room, models and porn actors fleeing the scene. he holds one gun in each hand, angelic guns... "go on, take your best shot!" he points the guns at me with that golden toothed grin "With pleasure~"
your POV:
my head feels fuzzy, the room being relatively silent before I hear the sound of screams and gunshots. I sit up seeing the door open expecting Vox but it was.. "Angel!!!! y-your here" "damn babes ya look like shit!" he runs over to me, untying my restraints "Thank fuck your here, where is Alastor!!?" "he's downstairs in that shit show" He uses his bottom arms to help me stand, rushing me out of the room. "we need to get ya outta here, smiles is gonna tear down this whole building!"
we stood in the elevator heading down to the second floor, booking it out of the elevator were met with Vox. he held a gun in his hand, using it to hit Angel in the face making him fall to the floor and drop me "you're not going anywhere!" "oh, but I think we are" Behind him stands Alastor, covered in blood with black tentacles coming out of his back. his smile strained and hair puffed out with a gunshot wound in his right shoulder.
Vox grabs me by the hair causing Alastor to lunge forward to attack, but he stops...because Vox takes the angelic gun in his hand, holding it to my head. "that's right! you're not gonna touch me, I will blow her fucking head off!" "Alastor don't-" "SHUT UP!! you have destroyed everything!! you were supposed to be dead seven years ago!!" he then points the gun at Alastor "You've made a fool out of me, you killed VAL!!!" looking behind Alastor, a pool of blood smears the floor with nothing but a pink striped gun left... "hmm how unfortunate~ he did put up a good fight"
"I have worked my ass off!!! to build my company to where it is now, and I'm not going to have an outdated PRICK destroy it, you were supposed to join us but instead, you ran off with Lucifer's dumb bitch daughter, and her HoTeL for redemption!! so now, I'm going to kill you..."
"I would have never joined you, too lost in your own pompous shit technology that it's become your greatest weakness!!, the only person that would tear your company down is you, so eager to prove that you are better but you have flaws just like every other person!!"
Vox's grip tightens on my neck "Vox... ack- y-you don't have to do this!! we can help you-" "My brand is perfection! I don't need help from you!!" he cocks back the gun aiming it straight for Alastors head, but a split second before he shoots Angel tackles him to the floor. everything felt like it was in slow motion, a ring in my ears as the shot fires, Angel on the floor pinning Vox down. and as I turned my head my vision blurred, I saw Alastor fall to his knees... with a gunshot to his chest.
I quickly crawl over to him "Alastor!!!! No... no no NO! Come on get up, please... ALASTOR!!" hot tears fall down my cheeks as I shake his body, his breathing is light and uneven as he struggles to stay awake. Vox laughs, his screen glitching in and out, Angel grabs his phone calling Charlie. I applied pressure to the wounds trying to stop the bleeding, and within a few minutes Charlie arrived with a few other people.
vaggie tries to pry me off of Alastor as I scream not wanting to let go but having no strength to fight back, as I'm pulled away all of the exhaustion and stress got to me causing everything to go dark, passing out.
We're almost finished with the series guys!!! one more chapter to go and I can start up fair exchange!!! also sorry if Velvet is kind of absent in this story, I was going to give her a place but didn't end up doing so since she mostly was on the topic of extermination until the Hazbin production gives her a more important role. thank you guys for your patience and have a wonderful day/night!
-squerlly
@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz
for more content and chapters please click this masterlist
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kayhi808 · 7 months
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Poor Planning
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Rain pelted your window, as you made your way down to the warehouses. You try concentrating on the rhythmic swish of the wiper blades to calm your racing heart. As you pull into the ANVIL parking lot, the first thing you notice is that jerk's lifted Ford F250. Over-compensating much?? Why do you need a truck that big? Dickhead. You never understood what your sister saw in him. No, you take that back; he was handsome. But that's all he was. A lying cheating pretty boy. An overgrown fuckboy.
You pull up alongside the truck, rain still coming down in buckets. Smiling, you throw yourself out of your car and into the torrential storm. Your hair quickly becomes plastered to your head & your clothes stick to you. You toss the garbage bags into the truck bed and then climb up into the bed. Ripping open the bags & emptying them into a big pile. His car alarm starts blaring so you need to make this quick. The bed quickly gets filled with his clothes, shoes, personal effects, stupid collectibles, everything he had at your sister's place in now returned to him. Cheating ass! You stare at your handy work getting soaked & ruined in the rain.
"What the fuck!?!" You hear him roar, while running towards you with a bunch of people at his heels.
"Allie told you to pick up your shit! I thought I'd be helpful & deliver it to you." You proudly stand in the middle of the truck bed with your hands on your hips. You looked as threatening as a drowned cat, but you don't care. No one messes with your baby sister! You see a woman grab his arm, trying to hold him back. "Jesus Christ, is that her? You work together?!"
"Get the fuck outta there!"
You throw a leg over the back to step onto the bumper as he see's all his stuff getting rained on & ruined. He's furious! He grabs you by the back of your shirt and tosses you to the ground. Your back hits the ground & the air is knocked out of you. Your head bounces off the concrete and you see stars. You curl into a ball trying to catch your breath. Shit! Ok, maybe this wasn't one of your brightest ideas trying to gasp for breath. He looks like he's ready to murder as he stomps towards you. His cold murderous glare pierces your heart. You try to scramble away as someone steps over you, putting themselves between you and your sister's ex, slamming him up against the truck. The crash sounds like thunder.
In a steely baritone thick with a New York accent, "We got a problem here, Dave?" eyeing the truck bed. When he's silent, your savior thumps him up against the truck again, "Answer me."
"No, Mr. Russo." Spitting out the words, but his eyes are shooting daggers at you as you pull yourself into a sitting position behind Bill Russo, the owner of ANVIL.
Bill looks over his shoulder at you on the ground, clutching your chest still trying to catch your breath. "Get out of here and take care of that," nodding at the mess in the truck.
Dave tried to salvage what he can from the back, putting it into the cab and driving off. Once Bill is sure Dave's gone, he quickly crouches down to you. "Honey, how badly are you hurt?" His long hair falls across his forehead, weighed down by the rain. You pull your fingers away from the back of your head and there's blood on your finger tips. He quickly scoops you up in his arms.
"No, put me down. I'm fine. I'm sure it's just a scratch." Even as your arm drapes around his broad shoulders.
"I have a medic on staff. Let's have her give you a quick once over." He carries you over to the building, "I can also have the cops down here if you want to press charges."
"That'll just make things worse. I didn't quite think this whole plan through, huh?" His lips quirk into a lopsided grin.
"No offense, but no you did not." He looks at you, "What's your name, darlin'?" You tell him your name, "I like that. You can call me Billy." He gives you a smile that makes you forget about all your scrapes and bruises.
@imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11
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idiacide · 2 years
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Trial By Fire
A commission fic for the eternally patient @kitkats-pastel-graveyard who requested an Idia x Reader x Floyd fic set in the Culinary Crucible. This will also be my last commission for a while, and its back to our regularly scheduled content.
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Idia Shroud/Reader, Floyd Leech/Reader, 6.4k words (got a little outta hand askdfjhaskljfd)
TW: Food, eating, fire, explosions.
I suppose we’ll start with a simple question. What brings you to this quarter’s Culinary Crucible? We’ll start with you, Mr. Shroud.
[Note: After a few attempts at verbal speech, Mr. Shroud instead elected to use the text to speech app to type his response. Somewhat furiously, I might add] My younger brother Ortho thinks I need some more staples in my diet. And also to be able to prepare it myself. Tbh it’s a little annoying, I can cook. I make cup ramen all the time and my specialized recipe is godtier even if I do have to say it myself. The secret is to- uh- actually you probably don’t care. Anyways! Gross otaku don’t need to sustain themselves on anything other than snacks. But he threatened to buy up all the tickets to the next Kismet Punch meet and greet unless I come to this. That’s what I get for uploading him with the alert system...
Anyways, I showed up here, and as we can all clearly see, I’m not cut out for this, so if you could just-
What about you, Mr. Leech? I must admit, I was surprised to see you here. Even we ghosts have heard that you developed much of Mostro Lounge’s menu yourself.
“Eh? I guess I’m in the same boat as Firefly Squid. Jade made me come after I got in trouble again for messing around with the customer dishes. It’s a huuuuuge pain. If people don’t want to spice things up then they can stay home and cook for themselves. Why should I be stuck making the same thing over and over?”
[At this point, Mr. Leech tilted his chair, throwing his head back to look at the kitchen, along with the staff and the headmage. Something seemed to catch his eye, and when he lowered to the ground again he was smiling.]
“Still, guess it’s not all bad. Plus, Jade used his scary voice, which means I’m not allowed to go back to the dorm till this is over with.”
.....You haven’t been home since this started?
“I just said that, didn’t I? So what are we waiting for, I’m gettin excited to try this! Hey, can I use some of the plants I brought from the alchemy labs?”
That would depend on-... Mr. Leech, the event hasn’t started yet!!!
“Cmon, Anglerfish, I wanna see if I can fry an egg on that hair of yours!!”
How did I get involved in this?! “H-hey, let goo of meeeeee!!!”
------
“This is stupid.” You said, for the fifth time in as many minutes as you watched the ghosts attempt to wrench a protesting Idia out of Floyd’s grip. You tugged at the apron around your neck like it might vanish if you did so.
“Oh, come now.” Crowley said, clapping you on the back and refusing to directly acknowledge the chaos his students were causing. “Of all the things I’ve asked you to do to pay the rent on Ramshackle Dormitory, a bit of KP for an event is hardly the most unreasonable!”
“That’s not-......” You let out a frustrated breath, letting the matter of your unfair work conditions rest for the moment. “I’ve seen these contests before, they can go all day. I don’t have that kind of time!”
“I’m sure you’ll manage. After all, at least one of these contestants is an experienced chef! It shouldn’t take them terribly long to find something to please the judges.”
“Maaan, Firefly Squid, your hair’s not nearly hot enough to cook anything on!”
“That’s what- I-i’ve been trying to-!!”
“Guess we’ll just have to compare teeth sharpness then. Hey Shrimpy!!” Your head jerks to see Floyd beaming at you, waving you over. “Get some tomatoes or something and let’s settle this!”
Idia’s gaze tracks over to where Floyd is looking and he starts, hair shooting a few inches higher. Fumbling for his tablet, he starts jabbing commands at lightning speed. When did this become a competition between US?!
“I eagerly await the fruits of your labors!” And with a flourish of his cape, Crowley’s gone.
-----
Not that it was easy, but you did manage to get Floyd off of competing with Idia to actually focus on the task at hand. At the very least he was eager to help out around the kitchen. You can’t imagine how much of a nightmare this would’ve been if he wasn’t. The ghosts set the challenge, providing a selection of recipes which Idia and Floyd would attempt to master before the day was out. Your heart sank a little more into the depths of your shoes when you saw the list. All of them were chosen with the idea of consistency in mind. As a result, they were finicky. Any shortcuts or distraction would harm the final result.
At the very least, you wouldn’t be responsible for the actual cooking parts. Not even ingredient gathering, since assessing the relative quality of the components was considered part of the challenge. Officially you’d be tasked with primarily grunt work: chopping, timers, dishes, anything they might need an extra set of hands on.
“Shrimpy’s our little helpeeeeeer” Floyd crooned. His arms cinch tighter around your waist as he leans over your shoulder to grin at you. “At least I know it won’t be boring.”
“Juuust great, a babysitter, not like this ordeal could get anymore humiliating...” Idia’s mutter continues to trail off until you decide to clear your throat.
“I mean, you don’t have to utilize me. I’m just here if you need me. That ok?”
He jumps, like he didn’t realize you could hear him. Knowing Idia, he hadn’t noticed he was speaking out loud. “U-uh.....I didn’t mean....I mean-!” He pulls at the edge his sleeves, looking off to the side. “It’s not a problem with you specifically, just. More the concept. I mean I’m glad that it’s you if it has to be anyone, but-.....wait forget that last part-”
Unofficially, your job was wrangling these two. No one said it out loud, but Crowley had functionally implied as much. Floyd in particular was a decided flight risk in a space with this much fire and this many sharp objects. 
Like you’d said, you weren’t exactly thrilled to be giving up your whole day like this. But you didn’t necessarily resent spending time with either of them. Difficult as they could both be in their individual ways, they could both be a lot of fun to be around. 
Something you were going to spend a lot of time reminding yourself of as the day progressed.
---
Idia stared at the array of spices in front of him, comparing it to the recipe notes he’d managed to pull up on his tablet. The ingredients were all so fiddly. Wouldn’t be a problem, normally. Chemistry may be less his bag than engineering but he still had a pretty good sense of what he was doing around a cauldron. The X factor giving him trouble here was taste,though. Wasn’t enough to just check off the boxes, you had to somehow tailor it to individual palates, based on entirely subjective tastes. How was ANYONE supposed to maintain “consistency” in an environment like this- 
“Comin’ through~”
His grousing is cut off abruptly by Floyd’s upper body flopping over the countertop, grabbing at a variety of jars with a few thoughtful hums before dropping them in his apron pocket seemingly at random. Idia jerks his tablet out of reach on instinct, before annoyance overcomes his startle. He flicks over to his text to speech.
Those aren’t even in this dish.
“So? I want to see how it turns out.” Floyd shrugs, giving him that sleepy, creepy grin of his. Not that I’m one to talk, or. Think. 
It’ll turn out like the last 6 times, with failing scores.
“You tryin’ to tell me what to do now, Firefly Squid?” The smile doesn’t slip one notch. Something in the eyes though...they harden. Idia didn’t even think people’s eyes did that in real life until now. “That’s pretty brave of you.”
Oh boy. This threat level was a little OP for him to handle. Still, maybe Ortho’s onto something about him always needing the last word. Even as he backs up half a step, his fingers are flying across the keypad before he can stop himself. I don’t want to be here all day!! Some of us have stuff to get back to.
Floyd freezes in place. Idia prepares himself to bolt, or at least duck and cover.
Before the second year tilts his head back in a high pitched laugh.
This is somehow scarier. “O-oh god please don’t rip my arms off-”
“You’re pretty funny when you grow a spine, Anglerfish!” Floyd throws an arm around his shoulder before he can fully flee. It’s a casual gesture, but it freezes Idia into solid ice. Floyd just smiles, turning him to face the rest of the kitchen. “Just for that, gonna walk you through what you’re missing.”
“M-missing?”
He jerks his chin towards where you stand, bent over a sink as you rinse a few cutting pans. “They’re stuck here just as long as we are.”
“....The prefect? I don’t-”
“Suuuuure you don’t.” He digs his fingers into Idia’s side, making him jump. Floyd laughs, spreading his hands as he backs off through the kitchen.
“Just sayin. Somethin to think about~”
----
You felt like your face was about to start dripping sweat. That last round had been rough, and only resulted in disappointing results. Sort of a theme for the last 4 hours or so. Still, at least you had a bit of a break. Idia, sensing the first opportunity for escape, had volunteered to go out ingredient hunting, and the ghosts, sensing Idia’s thinking, elected to accompany him. There were still one or two hovering around, getting a few things cleaned up. For the most part though, it was just you, Floyd, and the glass of water you were nursing.
“Man, does betta fish have it out for me or what?” He was saying, leaning over the counter next to you. “That last judgment was brutal.” He doesn’t seem terribly torn up about it, spooning some of the leftover consomme into his mouth.
You nod, taking another swallow of water. The last round had been particularly bad, but then, who could account for the bad luck of pulling Crewel, Vil, and Leona all in the same round. “Guess the clarification process still needs work. You sure you don’t want the chef to walk you through it one more time? They are here to teach you.” Floyd snorts, raising an eyebrow and looking up at you. “I know how to do it.”
“.....” You’re unable to keep the skepticism out of your face. Floyd just laughs.
“I know how to do it! I’ve made it like a dozen times for the Lounge. Azul said it was too technical for the regular menu but it’s not like I forgot.”
“Then why don’t you do it?”
“Cause it’s boriiing.” He says this like it should be obvious. And. Actually fair enough, it should’ve been obvious. He pokes your cheek. “Food’s to play with.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of what food is supposed to be for.” An incredulous grin creeps up on you. It’s...kind of hard not to feel put at ease when he’s taking it so easy. That was the dilemma with Floyd, for the center of chaos he had a weird way of making stuff feel like no big deal.
“Nah, Shrimpy, that’s just their programming talking for you. I’ll show you,” He pulls the dish closer to both of you, dipping his spoon in and lifting it to your mouth. “Open up.”
You eye the cloudy broth with some suspicion. Granted, Vil’s palate could be pretty delicate, but the face he had made didn’t exactly make you eager...
“C’mon, I gotta force you open?” He’s grinning. You think it’s a joke.
Hope it’s a joke. ...You open your mouth and take in the spoon, trying to swallow quickly. 
Flavorwise, it’s actually not awful. Not that you really notice when you start to absorb the texture. It’s like it’s coagulated, forming a nearly gelatinous texture that coats the inside of your mouth almost instantly. You can feel tiny pieces of something suctioning onto your tongue, making it take a few swallows to get it clear of your mouth. You can’t help making a face, but it only makes Floyd grin harder.
“Gotta use clarification to remove impurities. Which I didn’t do right.” 
“Ok, so….why??” You cough, reaching for your water to wash the mouthfeel out. Floyd pinches your cheeks together, nearly making you spit it out. 
“Because now you know what consomme tastes like with the impurities still swimmin around in there. Where else are you gonna get a chef to treat you to that, huh?” He tilts his head, backing off from you to lean over the counter.
You get the distinct sense that he’s probably messing with you a little. Or a lot. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t mean it. And if you ever want to get out of here…
“So…it’s about the experience with you?”
His eyes brighten, letting you know you’ve gotten it. “Exactly. You can go pretty much anywhere and find food that’s done right, or close to it. And any idiot can figure out how to follow a recipe. So if I’m doing it, why shouldn’t I change it up? Figure out what’s different if I mess things around a little. Even if it’s gross, it’s still different.”
You don’t know whether or not that made sense for you. He certainly said it like it was something that made sense to him. “But….you’re not just cooking for you.”
Floyd huffs, his lower lip poking out as he rolls his head back to look up at you. “I’m cooking, aren’t I? If they want somethin’ I don’t feel like making it’s only fair they do it themselves. Why should I have to change to do something I don’t wanna do just to make some rando happy?”
You felt like there were probably any number of retorts to that! You work in a restaurant, do you just never plan on letting anyone else eat your food, you are holding us all hostage for your own creative disputes- But none of them are likely to work on Floyd. He’s stubborn when he sets his mind to something, trying to talk him out of his current position is likely to just make it worse.
Talking him into something else…
“Well, what if you weren’t just cooking for a rando then?” You set the cup aside finally and begin gathering together the dishes still on the stovetop. “What if you pretended you were making it for someone who’s opinion mattered to you.”
“Huh?”
“Like Jade or something?” You shrug, glancing back at him briefly. “It might make you feel a little more motivated.” And maybe get us all out of here before we’re old and grey. Floyd seems to be considering this, which is a positive, and you move to deposit the dishes in the sink.
“....I figured it out.”
“Uh….figured what-”
It’s like he becomes a teal streak for a minute, one minute he’s draped over the counter and the next you find yourself being hoisted into the air, Floyd snaking his arms unders yours like a toddler hauling around some poor cat. You splutter, instinctually squirming before you realize it’s probably only going to tangle you up worse.
“You’re not some rando, so I’m not gonna mind making it for you!” He giggles at your efforts, swinging you from side to side for a second before setting you on the countertop. You straighten your rumpled clothes out as best you can, giving him a look that only makes him snicker more. Still, the content of what he’s said doesn’t pass you by. 
Cooking for you is what’s motivating him?
“Wait, so that means-”
“You gotta taste test everything I make, alright?” He grins, leaning over you as he braces his hands on either side of your hips. “And compliment it plenty. That’ll keep me motivated enough to do it right. It’s a deal, right Shrimpy?”
He’s close enough to leave you a little flustered. Behind you, you hear the doors open. Idia and the others are back from their excursion, and the thought of them catching you two this close isn’t helping the heat on your face. 
“I- Sure, why not, but-”
“Perfect.” He pulls back just as abruptly, rolling up his sleeves as he strides off towards Idia. “Hey Squid, let’s get the lead out already, huh?”
Well, you had to give him this. He was an eel of his word. Once properly motivated Floyd was like a small whirlwind, flying in every direction at once. The only pauses were to eventually slide over towards you, holding some morsel he always insisted on hand feeding you and waiting for your review before sending it out to the judges. It was more than a little embarrassing. He’d all but insisted you not move too far from where he’d set you on the countertop, and the ghosts kept giving you weird looks. Still, hard to argue with results. They were flying through dishes now, quickly clearing off the docket with high marks. 
You’d never seen him this intent on something before. Not to mention the food was excellent. No wonder Jade was so impatient to get him back in form.
He pulls a pan out of the oven, carefully carving off pieces and plating them with a practiced grace you’d barely known he was capable of. He lifts a forkful off from one of the plates and blows on it carefully, lifting it towards your mouth. “What’d’ya think, that crust turn out ok?”
You have to open your mouth wide to catch it all, hand cupping under your chin to avoid dropping any bits on the floor. It’s burning hot, for a second you can’t taste anything but heat, but eventually the actual flavor profiles start to settle in. You give him two thumbs up until you finish chewing, swallowing hard. “Lot flakier than the last one.”
“Aahhhh, how great am I, Shrimpy?” You snort, patting his arm as you wipe at your mouth. Floyd gathers the plates, balancing them on his arms while his looks around the room. “Hey Anglerfish! You’re supposed to help me present these, yanno!”
“Just…its’ not like they don’t know I’m in here!” Idia’s voice bounces off of the oven he’s currently got most of his torso wedged into. He’s been in there for the better part of an hour, ‘checking something’. The occasional metal clatter was all you heard from him. “Give me a bit….”
Floyd rolls his eyes dramatically at you, blowing some hair out of his face as he finishes up. “So what do I get if I nail this one?”
“Get?” He’s still not getting it out of his eyes. You decide to take pity and reach over to nudge it to the side. “Uh, then we’ll only have one dish left, and we all get to go home and call it a night sooner, how’s that?”
“Laaaame.” He nips at your hand in passing, making you jerk your fingers back. “I’ve been running this mostly by myself, don’t you think I deserve some kind of reward?”
“What would you even want?”
“Mmmm….” He puts on so much of a show of thinking about it that you can’t help but suspect he may have had something in mind from the start. “Oh! I know. You should cook something for me. That’s fair, right?”
“I…guess?” You blink, slightly taken aback. As far as Floyd favors go this was surprisingly easy to accomplish. Enough so that you’re wondering if there’s another shoe about to drop on your head. “I’m free next Saturday, if you wanna come by Ramshackle.”
“It's a date then.” And without another word, he breezes past you on his way out the door. You feel all the blood in your body rush to your face at once. Date? Date?! You whip your head around to call after him, stumbling over word and thought
“That’s only if you nail them both!” But he’s already halfway out the door. You hear the distant sound of his laugh as the doors continue to swing in his wake.
You sigh, burying your face in your hands as you try to compose yourself. You wish it wasn’t so easy sometimes for him to mess with you…Was he even serious? You don’t know if you’d have a problem if he was, but…
Another loud bang and some cursing bring you back to your surroundings. You decide to let curiosity win out, and walk over to stand by Idia’s splayed out legs. “Everything ok in there?”
His body jerks and there’s another bang, followed by a sharp yelp of pain. Idia emerges, smeared with soot and cupping his forehead. Your eyes widen and you drop down to your knees,trying to get a look at the damage. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry-”
“D-don’t sneak up on someone like that!!” Idia’s eyes look slightly wild, though it may be an effect of that much blue fire and ash floating.
“Do you need ice?” You’re halfway into a standing position before he seems to finally absorb who he’s looking at.
“U-uh!” His hands whip away from his forehead suddenly. “Its….I’m fine. Just…startled me.”
You look very pointedly at the pink spot on his forehead. The tips of his hair flicker a bit and his hand creeps up to cover it before he realizes its not going to make you forget its there. “....I’m fine. R-really.”
That didn’t sound truthful, but the larger part of you really didn’t want to embarrass the guy anymore than you were both already embarrassed. You glance back at the oven. He’s gutted the thing almost completely. A small pile of grimy parts are piled by where he was just laying, and he’s fidgeting with some kind of tool you don’t recognize. When you look back at him you find he’s still staring. Not for long, though, his eyes dart away the second you make eye contact with him. 
Idia’s not really one for conversation, you knew that about him. Even by his standards, though, he’d been unusually withdrawn today. He was clearly pretty out of his depth with most of the dishes. Floyd had picked up the slack after your conversation with him, but in spite of the fact that he hadn’t wanted to do this in the first place, you could tell it kinda bothered him to be dropped unceremoniously in the backseat. Maybe that was the reason he acted like you were coming at him with a hot poker every time you got near him today. 
“Whatcha doing here?” You say, gesturing to the oven. Maybe playing to his strengths was at least a way to get him to level out a little. He looks confused for a minute before he realizes what you’re referring to, like the bump had knocked it out of his mind. Still looking a little pink, he gets to his feet, sending soot flying all over.
“Uh….well, it’s…I mean…” He looks down at his hands, grimacing when he sees the black smears all over his fingers. You find a wet rag in a nearby sink and hand it to him. Flushing more, he wipes them off and picks up his tablet again.
The last dish takes a couple hours in the oven. Even if he gets it right in one go, we’re still going to be stuck here for a few hours. So I thought that maybe I’d try to speed that process up? It’s probably a waste of time lol
“Speed it up how?” You lean down to look inside, for all that accomplishes. Not like you really knew what the inside of a magical oven was supposed to look like.
These ovens are conventional, not convection. Heat emanates from a single source in the base. He crouches down to gesture to it only to realize he can’t do that and type at the same time. After a moment’s hesitation, he sets the tablet aside before reaching in to tap some tubing. “Uh…heat rises, so as the oven gets warmer all of the hot air starts to pool at the top of the dish. It takes a lot longer for the dish to cook all the way through, and it can make it uneven. L-like, the top could be COMPLETELY toast while the middle is still raw and cold.” He keeps glancing over at you occasionally to see if you’re still following.
“So, you’re making it convection?” You shuffle closer to see where he’s pointing. Idia seems a little pleased. At the very least he doesn’t pull back, continuing his explanation with much more confidence.
“Kinda.” He presses his palm to the back of the oven. “Normally a convection oven would have a fan in the back to keep the air circulating, but obviously I can’t just install one of those. So….I’m improvising.” He reaches past you to pick up some kind of iron contraption, two hollow iron tubes hastily bolted into two rotating plates. “Managed to find some lazy susan turntables, then just attach them to some of the magically run blowtorches.” He fishes for a second for his want, tapping the base. Twin blue flames suddenly spurt out of both of the tubes, making you jump back. Idia stifles a snicker, though he does move it away with a mumbled apology. “The force of the jets should keep it spinning. All I have to do is wire both of them into the magical heating elements and disable the base, and we should be golden.”
“Both?”
He shrugs, picking up a near identical device.
“Is that….safe?”
He huffs, almost indignant as he cuts the magic feed to the first torch. “Do I look like I want to blow us all up.”
You grin faintly. “I dunno…”
The scowl deepens, but even you can tell its mostly for show. He sets the devices down, rearranging himself so he can crawl back into the oven. “It shouldn’t take too much longer.”
“Do you want help?” You shuffle around a bit so you can sit down properly by the oven mouth.
“....Uh…..I mean….” His hands still. “Y-you don’t have to.”
“I mean, its gonna get us out of here faster, right?”
“Prob-...may-....I mean, I’m gonna try, obviously, but its probably gonna be really boring to help on, and-and-’
“So let’s get started.”
“....Fine. Hand me that screwdriver.”
To be entirely honest, you weren’t exactly certain how much what you were doing qualified as helping. Most of your contributions amounted to handing him tools or moving stuff out of the way. Idia would explain what he was doing, but a lot of it was either a little beyond you, or his explanation was far too looping for you to make sense of it. Mostly you kept him company while he messed around with the wiring, a tool clenched between his teeth except to occasionally answer your questions. Floyd eventually came back from judgment, shooting the both of you a questioning look, but went to start work on the next dish without much resistance.
And yeah, ok, it was a little boring at times. But as he got more and more focused on his work it was like he forgot to be jumpy. You’d already known Idia could be a very different person when he felt comfortable in his environment, but you think this might’ve been the first time you’d seen him this at ease. Enough that the conversation could drift to other topics, giving you more of a chance to at least contribute to the conversation.
“...so the point is, Grim is officially banned from Pomefiore until further notice.” You say, taking back the wrench he hands you.
Idia snorts, pulling his head free of the oven door. “Good luck backing Vil down from that.”
“I just didn’t realize lotions could be that expensive.”
“He custom orders them from a place.Though, the company does brand deals with him so I doubt he’s paying a dime. Uh…watch yourself.” He nudges you lightly on the shoulder, indicating you should back up. He uses his wand like a welding torch, sparks flying in every direction as he carefully binds it down to the oven. You hope the kitchen ghosts weren’t super attached to the way this thing was before. You wait for him to finish before you continue talking.
“Then why is he making me-?!....Wait, how do you know that?”
“Uh…..” He flushes, getting to his feet. “I think we should test this.”
“It done?” Floyd calls from down the counter. “Just finished this up.”
“W-well I don’t know if I’d say it’s done, I was gonna test it out with something-”
“Eh, no risk, no reward.” Floyd grabs one of the discarded shelves and slides it in at the proper height, placing the dish on top of it and closing the oven.
Idia scowls, though his gaze softens somewhat when he sees your amused expression. “Fine. Not like I’m the one who has to remake it if it messes up.”
“That’s what you think~” He plugs the correct temperature. You all watch as four blue lights go off at once, slowly picking up speed as they begin to spin. You hear Idia let out a sigh of relief next to you, and nudge him gently.
“Nice work.”
He doesn’t seem up to a response, but the pink color on his cheeks and the smile he can’t hold back says enough. “Uh…it should go about four times as fast, if I did this right.”
“Thirty minutes then? Nice.” Floyd manages to get an arm around Idia’s neck before either of you can blink, pulling into a noogie. “Knew you’d be good for something, Anglerfish.”
“Hey-!!!”
“Well, while modifying the equipment wasn’t a part of the challenge, I do have to applaud your creativity.” The head chef’s voice cuts off your attempt to call Floyd off. He drifts over to inspect Idia’s work, nodding appreciatively, though the next sentence is a little sharp. “I trust you’ll be able to restore it to its original state?”
“I…..y-yeah.” Idia says, trying and failing to wrestle himself free of Floyd’s grip before he just lets his arms fall loose. “I’ll fix it…”
“Excellent.” The head chef tilts his head curiously, gesturing for Floyd to finally let him go. Idia rubs at his neck, snatching up his tablet again as he continues to shoot dirty looks at a still grinning Floyd.  “How did you manage to balance the torches you installed with the existing heating elements?”
It was easier to just disable it. Idia shrugs, still looking pretty pleased with himself. Wiring was simple enough to figure out.
“.....You disabled it?”
Yeah. The torches create enough heat in a confined space anyways. It’s probably a little less exact than the actual base component uh why are you looking at me like that
The head chef had turned a pale shade of grey you’d only seen a handful of times in your roommates, a color that indicates agitation. “These ovens are in near constant use during a school day. If one of the ovens goes down we don’t have time to wait for a repairman. The fire fairies who control the school fires are instructed to operate as a backup. Meaning that if they receive a signal that one of the heating elements has gone down…”
You see a dim orange light in the oven behind him, getting brighter by the second.
The last thing you’re aware of is something colliding into your side.
—-
Well, this is definitely a startling turn of events for the finale! How are you both feeling?
“Ahaha, oh man!” [Mr. Leech drops his wand, lowering the protection spell that he’d managed to place around himself and his fellow contestants. The Octavinelle second year looks none too displeased by this conclusion]. “Haven’t had a reflex test like that in a minute. What a rush!”
“E-exit interview now?! Is this really the time for any of us to-....[VULGARITY REDACTED] don’t be dead, wake up!!! Wake up!!!” [Mr Shroud begins shaking the Ramshackle Prefect, who he seems to have tackled in order to shield them from the blast.]
—-
The world swims back into view in a blur of sound and images. The smell of smoke fills your nostrils and you’re vaguely aware of someone shouting. The ache on your head draws more immediate attention. Slowly, though, the hazy blob of blue and white resolve themselves into Idia’s face, hovering over you and looking like he’s about to throw up.
“What…”
“Oh thank god.” He groans, head dropping as he finally stops shaking you.
“Ehhhh, Shrimpy’s alive.” Floyd leans over him to check on you, earring dangling until it nearly brushes your face. “Almost had me worried for a sec there.”
“You’re not hurt are you?? Is it bleeding? Did something stick you? What year is it?”
The questions just made you feel dizzy. You look around, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. You were standing in what initially looked like a bombed out ruin. The other ghosts were gathered around what you guessed was probably the remains of the oven, dousing it with water and wind spells. Some tiny orange flickers kept darting around them, chattering in a high pitched bell tone you couldn’t understand. You turn back towards your own group. A ghost hovers over all three of you, the one you recognize from the interview at the start. “...Was anyone hurt?”
He sighs, turning off his tape recorder. “Aside from you three, the only other occupants of the room at the time were ghosts. Thanks to Mr. Leech’s quick thinking and Mr. Shroud tackling you out of the way, you were all shielded, though likely a little rattled by how far you were thrown.”
You look back up at Idia, both of you seeming to notice at the exact same time that he’s still half on top of you. The hair on his head turns fuschia and he pulls off you immediately. You catch his hand before he does though. 
“....Thanks” You say, trying to ignore the heat in your own face. It worsens the color tremendously, and for a moment it looks like he can’t decide what expression to make. He settles for nodding, before pulling his hands back to bury his face in them.
Floyd waves a bit to catch your attention, holding up his index and ring finger. “How many fingers am I holding up.”
“Two.”
“How about now?”
“Mr. Leech!”
You laugh, though it aches a little, and reach over to push his middle finger down. “None now.”
“Perfect, still got all the important bits.” He reaches over to pat Idia’s leg. “No harm done, Anglerfish. Shame about the dish though.” He sighs, glancing over at the ghosts. “Maaan that’s a bummer. After all that work I kinda wanted the victory speech.”
“Don’t speak too soon, Mr. Leech!” The head chef calls, lifting his head from the cluster of ghosts still gathered around the oven. “We may have something salvageable!”
“What?!” All of you lift your heads in unison towards him.
“The blast seems to have knocked it skyward rather than consumed it. As we can’t call the judges back in here, we’ll have to test it ourselves. However…” A handful of the kitchen staffs gather around the blackened-serving dish, sticking a fork in the pan and lifting it to their mouths. All of you watch with bated breath, even Floyd is silent as you stare across the smoking husk of the kitchen.
One by one, they chew. Swallow. Consider. Then, one at a time, all three of them send a burst of magical light into the area that shapes into a glittering number.
10.
10.
10.
You don’t know who laughs first. And maybe its the stress of the day, or the chaos of five minutes ago. Maybe it really is just genuinely that funny. Once one of you starts to giggle though, it catches on with the other two like its contagious, all three of you helpless to it. Even Idia, who curls in further on himself to try and muffle a high-pitched, wheezing laughter you’d never heard before.
You’d won. 
A loud cry of distress manages to startle all of you out of it. Across the ruins, Crowley drops to his knees in the grass. It’s hard to make out what he’s saying at that distance, or if he’s even speaking at all. Regardless, it’s pretty clear that he’s sobbing. The interview ghost perks up remarkably once he spots him. “Must go get a comment from him….Congratulations to you two on passing.” He nods to you as he drifts towards the weeping Headmage.
“I’m…in s-so much trouble.” Idia says, still fighting hard to get a handle on the nervous giggling.
“Sure are.” Floyd sighs contently, flopping back on the ashy ground. “But maaaan was that fun. After this, you gotta come do it to the ovens in the Lounge, alright?”
“I think Azul might have a problem with that.” You let your weight rest back on your hands as you stretch out. The new lump on the back of your head still hurt, but it had at least stopped throbbing in pain. 
“Pfffft, whatever….oh, hey!” Floyd sat up, like he just remembered. “We passed. That means you still owe me dinner!”
You blinked, only to burst out laughing when you realized what he was talking about. “I guess I do.”
“You have to cook for Firefly Squid too, alright? Only fair.” He yanked on Idia’s hoodie, making him yelp.
“When did I become a part of this…” He mutters, brushing himself off.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You say quickly. “But….I wouldn’t mind you coming along.”
He stares at you for a second, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re messing with him. You wonder if he was aware that Floyd had called it a date. You wondered if he’d mind. 
You wondered if you’d mind.
“.....Fine.” He sighs, but just as he turns his head you can see the barest trace of a smile. “As long as I don’t have to mess with any ovens.”
“Promise. Though, I don’t think I can guarantee a lack of explosions.”
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kopawz · 1 year
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whats up gamers it is wip wednesday. chapter 11 time... who IS chai anyway? like yeah he's a cocky, confident little guy who wants to be a rockstar, but uh. where'd this guy even come from? its like he just appeared outta nowhere sometimes
The air condition whirred in the clean, dimly lit hospital room. Fingers lightly tapping laptop keys interrupted the occasional monitor beeping, and the soft clicking of a bored 808’s tail.
After some well-needed rest (3 hours is probably enough), Peppermint had decided to visit Chai, and had been planning and throwing some things together.
First, things first, she wanted to make sure Chai’s mom got her damn car back.
Peppermint guessed it would still be in the on-shore parking garage, since he had never bothered to go back for it to leave. So, she had gotten in touch with the parking lot employees on-shore. After asking for (she didn't, she just needed to call them to establish an entry point) and processing through crap-tons of entry registers from around Chai’s arrival, she had found his ticket in.
With Roxanne’s authorization, they could pull out his mother’s car from parking, and… have it towed to her… house?
"Wait," Peppermint paused, squinting at her bulky gaming laptop she had 808 bring her to the hospital. Even if they have the ability to tow the car, “...Where the hell are we even going to tow it to?” Confusion pooled in her face.
Better question: …Where the hell did Chai even *live* before he came here?
Because, she’s just now realizing that he hasn’t talked about his homelife at *all* before coming to Vandelay. Even with the two stories he told, the information given was kind of vague as a simple, cheeky retelling of events. Probably on purpose.
Sighing, Peppermint shifted her weight on the hospital bed, crossing her legs. She looked behind her shoulder at him, speaking quietly, "Y'know, this would be a lot easier if you helped out a little, Chai."
She tilted her head at him, as if he would reply, "You wouldn’t happen to know her number, would you?"
He continued sleeping beneath the thin, heavy blanket, not offering much more of a response than a muffled rock tune shuffling onto his player. She recognized the song’s riff, and rolled her eyes with fondness. Hilarious, Chai. She doubts getting her phone number would be that easy.
She couldn’t really ask him anyway, he'd be knocked out for a few days, at the very least. The repairs on his power unit and arm replacement were remarkably easy, but Chai still had to be given, like, two different pain medicines for everything else.
Before Peppermint came back after a hot nap to visit him in his room, he apparently kept suddenly waking up to have a bad coughing fit, before slumping back down into bed. He had caught a nasty fever from either his core heating up so much, or catching something from diving into freezing ocean water; likely both. That, and his body was weak from the completely one-sided battle.
Looking at him now, though, he was just resting with a clammy face. Peppermint was relieved to see he seemed a bit better now; at least physically. The hospital staff said Chai would be knocked out for a long while as he recovers and cools down, but he could still be visited, at least.
But the matter still stands of where the hell he even lives… She decides it might be a good idea to ask around.
Clicking open her messages, and ignoring how many she's missed from the IT department for now, Peppermint figures she should start with the band.
Surely one of them has an idea on where he lives. She clicks open their group chat:
7:53 AM.
p:3ppermint: guys, i have a question
K_Orsica: Sure, go ahead.
K_Orsica: Wait. Rock.
CNMN#0001: Paper! 📄
p:3ppermint: scissors
Macarooooooooooooooooooooon: Alright, shoot.
Macarooooooooooooooooooooon: Wait. <:(
CNMN#0001: I suggest working on additional greetings, Sir Macaron!
p:3ppermint: sorry mac you make it easy
p:3ppermint: ok before i ask, are you guys at work rn or should i do some more digging and ask later
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Dreamt I was watching the last Owl House episode. Here’s what I remember:
there was a flashback that implied Belos had ground up the flesh of prior Grimwalkers and fed it to Hunter when he was small
there was a big final battle on the roof of like an apartment building though I think they were in the B.I.
Belos tried to escape by launching himself over the side, but Gus, who was super stressed out and weak for some reason, came shooting in on his staff and pulled up construction magic outta nowhere, creating a wall Belos wile-e-coyote’d into. I thought ‘aw, the Gus/Matt shippers are gonna have a field day’
at the end of the battle everyone was physically dogpiling Belos to keep him from getting away, but he just kind of melted and when everyone kinda sat up there was just a scout there, collapsed on the ground
he hadn’t possessed the scout like he did Hunter, it was more like he built himself up around her rather than taking her over from the inside?
she was still in a very bad way though and there was some suggestion she’d been in there for years (somehow)
she starts to cough and hack, she also said a name but I don’t remember what it was; it wasn’t a name we’ve heard before
her mask rolls off
it’s Amelia fucking Hughes
I wake up
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luminberry · 2 years
Text
Secret Ingredient
Pred Zeke and prey Jasper lol, brain really really wanted some unaware vore and this was cooked up shortly after with @stuffems and several others, Jaspers the prey cause who doesnt wanna nom the cute lad?
It was late in the evening, if you could call it that nowadays in Nevada. Jasper was moving happily around the kitchen finishing up the last few touches on dinner for the crew. The M4g dinners were already finished up thank god, so all that was left was to call everyone else in to grab a bite to eat.
Since it was near the end of the month and the deliveries were scheduled to come by first thing in the morning, Jasper elected to make some of his homemade chili with what was left in the stores to clear a bit more space and give everyone something delicious to look forwards to. He even had enough to make a few batches of cornbread for the few that liked that sort of thing, he grinned to himself knowing one of his boyfriends Zeke, seemed damn near insatiable around the stuff.
Putting away the leftover spices and setting the dishes off to the side for the kitchen staff to handle afterwards, something caught Jaspers eye amongst the copious little containers he was set to store away.
"Hm? What's this now..Ah don't remember takin this one out before..Don't look like somethin Ah'd use."
A small jar of what looked like fine pinkish sugar sat out of place amidst the containers of chili and garlic powders. Curious about what it could be he sat it off to the side as he poured himself a bowl, head turning towards the open hall where Zeke and a few others hung out waiting for dinner to be called.
"Zeke, dinners ready! Mind tellin everyone while Ah finish up in here real fast?"
"Sure thing darlin, leave it ta me! Ya made yer cornbread too right?"
"Pft of course Ah did ya silly goof, made plenty so don't make yerself sick like last time alright?" "...That was one time! But alright alright, lemme go grab everyone."
Jasper couldn't help but laugh a bit to himself as he listened to Zeke fuss and walk off to call the others to dinner. Everything but that strange bottle was put away..and Jasper couldn't quite help himself but wonder if it was just simply colored sugar.
"Might be good whenever we make cookies..if its still fresh might make some later tonight n surprise Zeke n Bull with a treat haha."
Popping the lid open, he gently dipped his pinky finger in and scooped up a small portion to taste. Popping his finger into his awaiting mouth, Jasper was somewhat confused when he tasted...absolutely nothing? A hint of something sweet and a tiny bit sour, but it all quickly faded seconds later.
"..Well now ain't that a weird thing? ..Must be old or somethin..eugh.."
A strange painful headache pinged at the base of Jaspers skull, harsh enough to make his vision swim and force him to lean forwards on the counter.
"...Maybe tastin somethin Ah ain't got no idea what it is was a bad idea..shit, hope that wasn't somethin poisonous.."
Jasper clenched his eyes shut as things began to swim and spin faster, even standing still it felt like things were shifting about him. Hell it felt like he was falling even.
It wasn't until he felt himself tipping a little too much forwards and not connecting his head with the cabinets that something registered as wrong with him. Letting out a yelp when he was falling just a bit too much forwards to be safe, Jasper opened his eyes and saw a sea of red rising up to meet him.
Landing in the red sea, Jasper gasped at how damn hot it was, it smelled very very familiar actually.
"Wait a sec, did..did Ah just land in my own damn bowl of chili?? Oh gods don't tell me that stuff shrunk me.."
Looking around as he tried to keep himself from sinking too much into his own food, his fears turned out to be true when he saw the landscape around him look exactly like the kitchen he was in when this all started..or was still in to be exact.
"Shoot..this ain't gonna end well if Ah can't get someone ta help me outta this damn mess..Ah think Ah can hear someone comin thankfully. If Ah can get em ta spot me maybe this won't be so bad right?"
Jaspers heart soared in relief when it was Zeke who came walking back in, a easy going smile on his face. Jasper had feared it'd be one of the H4nks that'd spot him first, or someone a bit less observant. But he knew Zeke would help him, he could trust his boyfriend would come to his rescue!
"Jasper, everyone said they're comin soon..Jasper? Y'all still in here darlin?"
Zekes smile waned into a look of confusion at not seeing one of his boyfriends, before shrugging a bit and moving towards the counter and spotting the lone bowl.
"Huh, must of left to go get the stragglers I guess..Nice of him ta pour a bowl for me before he left. N I can grab a few things a cornbread before tha others snag it all heheh~"
Zeke moved to pull a few toppings out of the fridge before heading over to the counter with the bowl waiting for him, he was a simple man, some cornbread and sour cream were all he'd usually like on his chili. And Jaspers food was amazing as far as he was concerned, he would borderline make himself sick eating it.
Unknown to Zeke however, said cook of the evenings meal was too stunned to make himself known when he should of. Seeing Zeke towering over him the size of a damned mountain had made several emotions and thoughts run through him. The first being brief amazement at all the minute features on display, reminding him just how damn handsome Zeke could be at times.
The second was disbelief that Zeke hadn't immediately spotted him, not knowing the reason was simply because Jasper unfortunately was coated head to toe in chili thanks to his abrupt landing.
Numbly Jasper watched his massive boyfriend before hearing the container snap open and a mountain of sour cream hovered over him.
"Guh- W-wait Zeke don't! Ah'm down here look!! Zeke please darlin wa-''
Zeke paused as the dollop of sour cream gently landed in the middle of the bowl, for a second he thought he heard Jasper trying to call him.
"Jasper? ...Darlin? Huh..must be hearin things..maybe he's waitin for me in tha mess hall so we can eat together.."
Zeke shrugged to himself as he picked the bowl up and his plate of cornbread and moved to find Jasper and dig in as everyone else slowly filed in to grab their own portions.
Jasper meanwhile wailed under the suffocating mound of damn cold sour cream, feeling himself being pushed down deeper into his own cooking. Zeke wouldn't find him at this rate..the only thing that'd happen for sure was he was going to wind up part of his meal!
"Shit shit shit...Ah should of said somethin sooner before he got distracted..Ah can still try maybe, jus gotta hold on n hope Ah get a second chance."
Zeke looked about and still couldn't spot Jasper amongst the others settling down to dig into dinner, which was rather strange..Maybe he was taking care of something before coming out to eat, Jasper was always busy it seemed sometimes.
Sitting down with his meal, Zeke started to dig in happily.
Jasper could hear and faintly feel the spoon start to scoop out bite after bite of chili, which of course made him panic a bit more. He'd have to do something to get Zeke to notice him before he wound up apart of the mans meal on accident.
Something about the chili seemed different tonight Zeke felt, it tasted somehow so much better..Or was he just starving? Well the excited gurgling coming from his midsection cleared things up after the first two bites..he was fucking starving and then some and the food was damn delicious, he'd definitely have to thank Jasper for the food whenever he saw him next.
Jasper was trying as best he could to keep away from the damned spoon as more and more of the chili trapping him was eaten. He was getting a bit alarmed at just how fast Zeke was putting it away, must of been real damned hungry if he was eating like this.
Inbetween bites of cornbread and chili, the bowl was quickly getting empty. At this rate he might wind up going back for seconds once he cleaned his bowl out. Letting out a happy hum at a rather large chunk of meat on the next spoonful he wasted no time in popping it into his mouth.
"Chrissakes Zeke, eat like ya got some fuckin manners for pete's sake.. Can hear yer damn stomach from outside in tha halls."
"Mnph?? Mnh.."
Zeke jumped a bit at Cara coming out of nowhere to scold him about his eating habits..again. But Zeke knew better than to reply with a mouth full of food, the last time he did that Cara smacked him upside the head for being so crass..
Swallowing the mouthful he had, he was briefly thankful the large chunk slid down his throat with no problems.
"Sorry Cara, ya know how I am with my boyfriends cookin haha..Just too good not ta enjoy, ya know?"
"Mhm..speakin of yer boyfriend..Have ya seen Jasper round any recently? Need ta have a word with him bout tomorrows deliveries, got some strange items on here I don't remember approvin n hoped he'd know where they came from.."
"Nah I haven't seen him since dinner started..was hopin he was out here but he hasn't come out yet."
"Hm..well if y'all see him, let him know I need ta talk with him soon."
"Will do, go on n grab ya a bowl before someone inhales tha rest of it."
"Like y'all seem ta be doin?"
"...Oh hush up Cara, I was jus hungry was all, dang."
Making a bit of a face as Cara laughed and went on his way towards the kitchens, Zeke finished off the last of his meal and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.
"Might wait a bit on that second bowl for now..forgot that stuff expands a bit once it settles."
Zeke sighed once more as a hand came up to gently knead his slightly swollen midsection, before getting up and moving to put his dishes away. Once he had cleaned things away he sighed and started on trying to find Jasper.
Jasper couldn't believe what the hell just happened...He had all but screamed when he felt the spoon knock him over and pull him skywards up towards Zekes awaiting mouth. He had tried to yell his boyfriends name, anything..But he couldn't force himself to get it out in time before he was sealed in the mans eagerly awaiting mouth and tossed about amongst the rest of his meal.
Trapped in the dark humid confines of his boyfriends mouth, Jasper was outright powerless to stop himself from being moved about with ease by the massive tongue trapping him. Feeling himself being tasted and squished against teeth that were far too big for him to feel safe. It couldn't get any worse the poor man thought, that is until he both felt and heard Zeke make a startled noise, hoping beyond hope that it was him noticing him at last...
Only to let out a wail as he was shoved towards the back and swallowed down with hardly a second thought with the remains of his meal. He had only just barely grown used to being swallowed down by Bull, the M4g was always gentle with the process. But this was something entirely different, everything gripped at him tightly as he was pulled downwards to Zekes stomach. Jasper let out a strangled yell as he slid deeper and deeper until he reached the end of his short but terrifying journey.
It was dark of course in Zeke's stomach, and Jasper was alone in here with no one knowing he was even in here to begin with. That thought alone scared him the most. He absolutely needed to get Zeke to notice him before the mans stomach did what it was made to do to him.
And if he wasn't already worried enough about trying to get his clueless boyfriends damned attention, things only grew worse as he was suddenly tossed about with a rhymical bouncing chaos.
Zeke started jogging to try and see if anyone had spotted Jasper during dinner, he was worried one of the H4nk alternates might have nabbed something more than dinner. It wasn't too far fetched considering what most of them were capable of day to day.
Several minutes later and a few very very close calls, Zeke still hadn't found Jasper yet. Deciding to try and ask Bull before he went to bed, Zeke ran his way back towards his other boyfriends room.
Jasper was more or less done with today, it had started off on a good foot too! But now he was being tossed about every which way and it was starting to make him a bit sick.
"Ah gotta tell Zeke he shouldn't run all tha goddamn time..if Ah ever get out in enough time..eugh. Please jus find a spot ta relax..somewhere quite please Zeke!"
Bull thankfully was still near his room, getting ready for his late patrol shift and gave a wave to Zeke as he called out to the other.
"What's all tha rush darlin? Y'all know I don't start till later, somethin up?"
"Yeah, I haven't seen hide nor hair of Jasper since before dinner n wondered if y'all saw him anywhere?"
"Sorry darlin can't say I have really, didja check his room on yer way here?"
"Oh..uh nope, didn't quite think bout that. I'll double back n take a gander then. Thanks sweetheart! I'll come swing by later before I head ta bed alright?"
"No rush darlin, I got all night n looks like yer plenty busy. But I'll save a spot for ya."
Zeke gave a smile and a wave before turning on his heels and making his way over towards Jaspers quarters. If anything he'd surely be there right? Maybe he was tired and stepped out to grab a fast nap, the man was busy today after all.
Jasper had all but given up on trying to grab Zekes attention, nothing he did would likely reach the active man..He was scared of what was going to happen. He had some close calls in the past but he was always saved in the end somehow..But now no one was coming were they? His one hope was damn near deaf to his cries as he was shaken and tossed about more and more.
Zeke finally arrived at Jaspers room and peeked inside the dark interior before calling out softly.
"Jasp? Jasper sweetheart y'all in here? Hope ya don't mind I'm gonna turn tha light on.."
The lights flickered into life and showed nothing more than a empty bed.
Zeke was at a loss and moved to just sit on the bed and catch his breath for a moment in the soft familiar silence of the room. Head held in his hands, Zeke let out a long sigh.
"Jasper..where tha hell didja run off ta?"
Everything was still at last inside Zekes damned stomach, if not a little cramped now. Jasper sat up shakily upon hearing Zeke say his name, wondering where he was, which was ironic in several senses he thought. But it was still and quiet..he wouldn't likely have another chance if he didn't try now.
Pulling himself towards what he thought was the front of Zekes stomach walls he began to pound against it with all he was worth, frustration and fear being put to good use at last.
"ZEKE! ZEKE LET ME OUTTA HERE PLEASE! AH DON'T WANNA DIE IN HERE! LET ME OUT, YA GOTTA HURRY!!"
Jasper hollered and wailed every last ounce of breath in his lungs, hoping it would have the effect he wanted the most. A few seconds passed and Jaspers confines grew immediately tighter as he heard Zeke suck in a sharp breath of air.
"wh-J-Jasper?? What the-OH GOD. Fuck fuck hang on darlin gimme two seconds!! Shit shit shit-AH- oww"
Zeke in the silence of the room, felt a sharp series of pangs ring out from his stomach..And before he could question what the hell was going on..A very very familiar, and outright terrified sounding voice rang out from his middle. It didn't take much for Zeke to connect the pain and voice before taking off like a shot towards Jaspers bathroom, briefly slamming into the doorframe in his rush.
Several frantic moments later, and Zeke was thankfully holding a very relieved and wet Jasper between two hands in the sink. Both were very much exhausted for different reasons.
"Jasper sweetheart I'm so damned sorry..almost just made ya a meal..Y'all alright though? I didn't hurt ya or anythin did I?"
"Ah'm fine..just exhaused now but not too worse for wear thankfully. Didn't think Ah'd get yer attention before it was too late honestly, can see why y'all never gain weight now..y'all cant keep still for ten seconds..hehehh"
Zeke could only weakly laugh in response, he was thankful at least that he found Jasper before...well he didn't wanna think about that. Sitting up a bit more, instead he helped Jasper clean off before taking him back towards the kitchens.
"What'd ya say it looked like again? Ya sure it'd still even be in here after dinner? Hopefully we can find it.."
"Ah'll bet it's still in there, Ah thought it was decoratin sugar for cookies n tha like..Was why my dumb ass decided ta taste it n landed in that bowl of chili ya inhaled."
"..Well in my defense I didn't know we had that kinda stuff layin round. N ya make a damn fine chili Jasper, how can I not stuff myself with it.. Just didn't think I'd eat tha cook as well."
"Ah know, Ah know...Jus hope this wears off or else Ah won't get a damn thing done anymore.."
The two talked as they searched the cabinets in the kitchen, only finding nothing of what Jasper talked about after several long minutes. Both seemed rather perplexed at where the small bottle could of gone to..
"Well we'll worry bout that in tha mornin maybe when everyone else is awake.."
"But what are we gonna do bout me bein this damned small Zeke?"
"If we're lucky it wears off soon, till then I don't mind keepin ya close where I can see ya. Can work on apologizin for almost makin a snack outta ya heheh."
"That don't sound too bad honestly..Ah can certainly use some dang TLC after today."
"I can certainly provide all tha TLC y'all ever need, let's head back ta my room for now.."
"Sounds good ta me.."
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bri22222 · 9 months
Text
Below The Surface
Fnaf fan fiction
Chapter 2: Who programmed him?!
Her face widens as she stares up at the big gator. His eyes turn blue and looks her up and down, head to toe. ‘What is happening!? ‘
Scanning…
M, Bri
Personnel: STAFF
Status: New
Department: Unknown
“Heh, yer new aintcha? “ The huge gator remarked. He scanned her. With no hesitation. “ Uh.. y-yeah?” She claimed. “Why?”. The gator scoffed." Then whatcha doin round here lady? “ The gator said with irritation. ‘Kill me’ she muttered under her breath. Luckily the gator didn't pick it up. “ I'm just giving myself a tour. I'm still not seeing the problem here?" Why had he just come up to her like that? Did he not like her? Did she do something wrong? He literally just MET her for Christ's sake!
The robotic alligator growled. “ Just STAY outta my way!” The gator hissed as he stormed off to his own green room that read ‘Montgomery Gator’ just above it. ‘So that's his name. Wonderful’. She rolls her eyes as she stalks past Montgomery's room.
Bri walks by a purple room with go- karts, gasoline, wrenches, hammers and plenty of portraits of the beautiful wolf herself. Bri looks above the purple madness. It reads ‘Roxanne Wolf’. “ Huh. That's a cool name” Bri stated. “I know”. Her heart skipped a beat. She looks back down into the room as she finds the wolf talking to herself in the mirror.
“ Your performance was perfect tonight! “ Roxanne utters to her reflection. ‘o-k. I'm just gonna go…. Where AM I gonna go?’ She Unnoticeably stops in front of the last room COVERED in orange. Scrolling through her Fazwatch, trying to figure out how to use the damn thing. ‘Didn't Brian say there was a map of some sort on here? Oh! ‘. She tapped on her Fazwatch once more, opening a map of the place. ‘Oh yeah! The daycare! I could go there. I don't think Brian will mind right? ‘
A slight ‘tap’ came from the right side of her. She thought it was her Imagination. So she thought nothing of it. The place was still active at this time anyway. There were families starting to flood in from the first show. So it's pretty much her cue to get the hell out of there.
Suddenly the sound echoed again through her ear drums. This definitely was real. This wasn't a dream. She rotated her head at the slightest angle to shoot a slight glance through the window. As she spots a pair of glowing blue optics up against the window.
“WHAT THE-!” She blurted, stumbling back, almost falling on her sorry ass. ‘What the hell!? ‘ She shot her head up at the glass to observe the glowing eyes that met hers. But they had vanished. But only temporarily.
Before long the same blue optics shine around the corner, followed with orange limbs and a bright blue lightning bolt on his chest.
“ Are you ok Miss?" The bear frantically pleaded. Jogging toward Bri as she has a hand on her chest, struggling to catch her breath. “Apologies, I should have known." The Bear urged. " No no! It's really ok Mr…..” She trailed off as she stared at the huge robot. Orange casing with a little red earring and a small black top hat.
“ Freddy. Freddy Fazbear.” He protested. “ And you are….." The bear trailed off. Standing oddly still, his eyes grew blue. The same blue in his eyes as Montgomery's when he had scanned her. ‘ Why those eyes again? Is there something wrong? What the hell did I do this time? ‘ Soon enough, Freddy's eye returned to his shade of blue.
“ Hm, scanning complete, How odd. Your guest profile is…..unknown to me. Who are you? “ He genuinely asked. Huh, never would have known they could SCAN YOUR FREAKING BODY! Like why? For safety reasons? Just to look cool? Man, I don't know!
“I-i’m Bri. I'm new here. I start tomorrow." She assured him. " Well then!” Freddy praised. “ It is wonderful to meet you Bri! It Is always great to have new staff members! Due to the lack of people applyment!” The friendly bear exclaimed.
“Uh y-yeah.”She shrugged. “ Are you… quite alright? Are you lost perhaps? Do you need assistance?" He said in his ‘ urge to please’ manner. " Uh… Y-yeah, I do. Could you…. possibly show me where the daycare is?" She shuddered. ‘God DAMN! HOW IS HE SO FREAKING HUGE?! ‘ He has to be at least 7 feet tall. If not more.
“ Why of course!" He beamed all of a sudden. “ Would you like me to take you there? I know some great elevator music! “ He goes. Could you imagine? A huge, 7 foot tall bear animatronic, following you in your tracks.
“ Oh n-no no! I-i’m ok! Can you just show me how to get there? Please? “ She requested. ‘I'll shart my pants if you follow me.’ “ Of course! To make it easier, I will mark the location on your Fazwatch. His eyes grow a glowing blue once more. Just blankly standing there for a half a second.
“There” The bear says as he blinks his plastic eyelids and his optics returning to its ‘natural’ blue. Seconds later a small chime comes from Bri’s Fazwatch. She glances at it to see a pinpoint on a location that claims to be the daycare.
“Hey! Thanks Freddy!" She beams in all gratefulness. " It’s my pleasure, superstar! “ Freddy exclaimed. " Say, According to your file, you appear to be staff. But no status. Are you new?” He genuinely asked." Yeah I am. I start tomorrow. “ She claimed. " That is wonderful news Bri! It's always a pleasure to have new staff members! “ He blurted.
“Well, I hope to see you soon! Bye Freddy!" She hollered farewell. “ Goodbye superstar!" He hollered back.
But the glowing red eyes coming from behind the tilted curtain from Montgomery's room goes unotaced .
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Text
I guess only some black lives matter.
Yall don’t care about black women or black girls.
I work in a public school system in the inner city. I’ve worked with kids from k4-12th grade. I’ve seen fights that look just like the video of Ma’Khia. People throw chairs, they bang other kids heads into lockers, they punch kids, they kick kids, they grab whatever they can and try to use it as a weapon. I’ve deescalated fights, school security, school staff, teachers, and admin have all broken up fights and deescalated them. Funnily enough, we’ve never had to murder a kid; even when they were hurting other students, we calmed them down and everyone lived. The fact that police can’t calmly break up this situation - what with all their training and their gear that they have- and their first instinct is to fire a gun no questions asked is ABSURD. Especially because it’s not for reasons you all keep making up. It’s not because “she was about to kill the other girl” if that was the case why is Kyle Rittenhouse still alive after walking around with a weapon after ACTUALLY killing folks. Why did police treat him like he was one of the good guys? Why did Dylan Roof not get dropped on the spot after slaying 9 black people who were praying in church!? I thought yall said that police have no choice when they see a weapon and lives are in danger, THEY HAVE TO SHOOT!!! Oh... I guess that’s only when they see black people. And I guess that yall’s empathy is only reserved for black males. 
Ma’Khai was a little too black for yall, and a little too big, and a little too loud, violent, aggressive, and hostile for yall. You saw her as an animal so it was ok that she got put down like one. “Hey, the cops are just doing their job! They didn’t have a choice here!” But wait a minute, I thought ACAB!? My, my how quickly you all change your tune. I thought that it doesn’t matter if someone is breaking the law or not, they don’t have a right to be murdered even IF they aren’t cooperating. Damn, what happened to that song yall were singing when it came to black males?
I’ve not felt this much pain and hurt since Trayvon Martin. I’ve not felt so discarded and so hopeless and let down in a long time. The most disrespected, unprotected, and neglected person in America is the black woman. I knew yall hated black women but I’m always surprised by how much. Yall hate us so much that you think it’s ok for police to unload 4 bullets into the chest of a 16 year old who was defending herself in a fight. And the thing is, even if she wasn’t defending herself, even if she had started the whole thing, she still doesn’t need to be shot 4 times. Not when police are able to take violent white criminals into custody and make stops at burger king while they’re at it. 
We gotta have our own backs as black women and it fukin sucks. But the kicker is that black women themselves are throwing their humanity under the bus to shuck and jive. Why are black women themselves saying that this baby deserved to die and that she needed to be held accountable, killing her isn’t accountability. Basically yall sayin she deserves the death penalty for something she might have done. Black women have to have their own backs because not even other black women will have our backs. And don’t even get me started on the black men who watch us drown as we toss them our life jackets. We are out on the front lines for black men and they just simply cannot show up for black women. Black men, Shannon Sharpe and Don Lemon publicly tell America that it’s ok because Ma’khia was unruly and uncivilized. Nows ya knows ya gots ta ack rite fos massa come round... I feel like now that yall got the verdict for George, now yall don’t wanna step outta line too much and Ma’khia is who yall are willing to sacrifice in order to show white America your utmost gratitude. 
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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖘
This blog does Male and Gender Neutral readers only however everyone is welcome here regardless of their identity.
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General
This is safespace for Male and Enby readers, I do not write for female readers and I rarely write for feminine readers either.
All fics are GN reader unless stated otherwise.
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I don't do nsfw
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DNI:
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Yes I am. Check this out. AND ITS OFFICIAL HERE
Q: Where's the masterlist/taglist for ...?
Almost every work I write is immediately added to the masterlist. All of the Yuus and AUs are under Ramshackle. There are more general tags listed above and within masterlists. Like #Ramshackle.
Q: How are the kitties? Where can I see the kitties?
#cat pics is where you may view many pictures of cats including mine.
Q: May I rant about an idea for ...?
Of course!
Q: May I vent?/I have a question about my sexuality/gender/ect.
Sure I guess, I'll listen. But I'd rather you dm me. This is a TWST blog after all.
Q: Did you write...?
Idk. If it's not in the tags or masterlist its a mystery to me.
Q: May I dm you/join your discord?
Of course.
Q: I'm fem/fem-aligned/questioning. May I still interact?
Go for it.
Q: I sent in an ask and it wasn't answered.
There is a chance I didn't receive however sometime I get very overwhelmed by a lot of asks and delete some. Many asks also become repetitive or have nothing I can add.
Q: Who is Vinn/Mint?
My long lost husband and/or wife roommate.
Q: Wtf is that pride flag?
Rock eating pride flag cause my faves are stupid
Q: Can I tag you in???
I appreciate you all wanting to get to know me, but please stop tagging me in piccrews and quesionaires/ask memes. They're insanely long posts/not mobile friendly and I'm not interested in doing them. Please also stop tagging me in political stuff. I try not to get too political on here to begin with. This is a fanfic blog. Not a personal one. I like having my privacy.
It's still OK to Tag me in ur fics/fanart tho! I really appreciate those!
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jinxthequeergirl · 3 years
Text
For Those You Lost
Simon Kalivoda x reader
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Summary: you are forced to mourn for your friends and loved ones, and when you are given the chance to exact revenge, you don't hesitate.
Warning: SPOILERS FOR FEAR STREET 1666 basic horror violence, death, swearing, Implied that Heather was the Readers Older sister.
Consider this a short sequel to "As The World Caves in" in which i change the narritive so the reader is the one exacting revenge on Nick Goode
~~~~~~
You Wish you would have just died that night, even wishing you would have died in the hospital. Instead you where walking around while not only your sister but best friend person you loved where all dead.
Now you where expected to give a speech in front of the whole student body.
It was all fake, the Sunnyvaleiers didn't give a rats ass about your family and friends, they didn't care that you lost the first person you said "I love you too."
No. They where just there because they had to be.
Walking up to the podium seemed to move in slow motion, as everyones eyes followed you, some bored, some annoyed, others not even paying attention. Not a single one shared a mournful look with you.
"Hello fellow ShadySide students and Staff, and hello Sunnyvale." You started having to clear your throat to get rid of the tears that theatened to spill after catching a glimps of Simons Photo in the back.
"We are here today to mourn the loss of three people, Some of you knew them...most...didn't their names where Heather, My...sister,Kate and...And Simon...My bestfriends..." You looked up feom your crumpled note book paper and out intonthe sea of bored highschoolers.
Why hadn't you died that night?
Why hadn't you died in that hospital bed?
Why where you the one standing at that potium?
Why did you have to find the right things to say about your dead friends and family, When no one there would ever really know the truth?
Why?
Why?
Why!?
You froze the thought of Simons face right before he sacrificed himself for you flashing through your mind.
"I can't do this..." You muttered.
"FUCK YOU! FUCK ALL OF YOU! YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THEM! YOU DON'T EVEN CARE!" everyone seemed to be intrested now that you where screaming. "FUCK THE NEWS TOO, SIMON AMD KATE WHERE MORE THEN DRUGGIES YOU ASS HOLES!"
You crumpled up the paper throwing it somewhere and storming off, brushing officer Goodes hands off of you as you did so.
That night seemed so far away, now your blood boiled more as you stepped on the gas of The stolen cop car after hearing what Deena had just discovered. "Y/n! Slow Down!" Josh warned.
"Y/n..." Deena said softly putting her hand on your shoulder. "We're gonna stop him." She said in a soft confident voice. "Damn right." You said slowing down just enough to not get the three of you killed, but kept going fast enough to reach Ziggy and Devise a plan.
In the mall the five of you worked hastily to set up the trap for Goode, Ziggy glanced up at you ever now and then before finally coming up beside you.
"I'm assuming you two where close?"
You glanced up at her before quickly looking back down to tie the knot you'd been working on. "Yea...you know...mom was...well it was complicated...Heather...Heather took care of everything for me....I...being alone with our mom now..." Ziggy placed a hand on your shoulder. "I get that..Listen If we make it out of this...and you ever need someone...I Wouldn't mind the company."
"Seriously?"
She nodded, before you could say anything Josh called out too you. "They're here!" Everyone turned to the doors seeinv the nightwing killer come in hastily. You caught sight of the axe in his hand and stared for a moment.
Ziggy grabbed your hand and pulled you behind her to hide. "Ready?" She asked.
You nodded and ran to your battle station.
Everything was going fine, the plan was working you felt confident This would work You Felt like Fred Jones or some shit.
Then he grabbed Ziggy, staining her Sweater With Deenas Blood making her a Target. "Fuck..." You looked over to Josh who shook his head no at you knowing what you where about to do.
You ignored him and took off sprinting across the mall floor to the two of them tackling them to the ground. "Run Ziggy! Run!" You Yelled As Goode now wrestled you.
You gabbed your elbow into his stab wound, causing him to cry out and let you go. You got up running to Ziggy and Josh waving you to them. you barely dodged the skull mask killer ripping the sleeve of your neon stained shirt as you slid under the store gate.
He crashed against it wiggling it attempting to get to you.
"Here have it!" You yelled pulling the hoodie off and sliding it under the gate.
"You ok?"
"Yea..." You panted watching Nick Goode run to an Exit door, Deena Not to far behind. "That shit, I'm going after them." You said.
"Hang on." Ziggy said. "You can't just go out there...they might try to stop you." She said gesturing to the swarm of killers.
"I'm not just letting her go alone!"
Everyone went quiet. "I have an Idea." Martin spoke up eyeing the water guns you carried.
"Hey!" Josh yelled catching the killers attention.
He pumped the water gun before shooting them, ziggy and martin joined him, with in seconds they turned to eachother and started attacking. "That should buy everyone some time." Josh said to you.
"Stay Alive!' You yelled before Taking off in the direction Deena went stopping to stoop down and yank the Night wing killers Axe from the ground.
You followed a trail off blood down the hall and around the corner. "Deena?" She jumped turning to you, ready to stab you. "What are you doing!? Go back!" She said taking your newly obtained weapon.
"No! No way!" You said.
"Listen Ever since the other night I can't help but feel like...like I should be dead too...I Wish I had Died On that Floor with Simon." You choked rubbing away tears. "But... Simon...Simon Sacrificed himself to make sure I was Still Alive And Goode? He killed my Fucking sister...he killed simon." You took the Axe back from Deena.
"So I'm coming with, And I'm going to make sure he gets what he Fucking deserves. " You bit out.
She stared at you for a moment before nodding.
"Then Lets Kill this Asshole." She said with a affirming look. You gripped the axe tightly in your hands as you followed behind her through the tunnled.
"Goode!" She yelled hoping to scare him out from whatever hole he was hiding in.
You stopped nudging her to show her the bloody hand print on the walls
"Where the hell are you coward?"
Something jumped out from the dark taking deena down. "Sam!" She cried as sam attempted to stangle her. You tried to pull the girl off but failed, something caught the corner of your eye. "Y/n...Goode...Go!"
You grabbed the axe and took off after him you got close enough to swing at his legs knocking him down. "Wait wait please..."
"Begging? You think I'm gonna show you mercy?" You asked pinning him down with your foot. "Did you show mercy to my sister? To my friend?" The man babbled hoping to find a way out of this.
"Thats what i thought." You raised the axe and brought it down on his chest.
"This is for Heather you fucking Dick!" "Cindy Berman, Sam and kate!" You cried chopping at him with each name.
You gripped it even tighter before bringing it down on him one more time "For Simon."
You stood above him panting making sure he was gone before you heard coughing. "Sam...Deena..." You ran back to where you left them and found them hugging. "It worked?"
Deena looked up at you with teary eyes. "It worked."
"Good...good lets get the fuck outta here." You said pulling both of them up.
That night seemed like a blur really, it still hurt not having the comfort of your sister or simon around.
But Ziggy was there for you like she promised.
"Hey, I have something for you." Ziggy said as you entered the door of her house.
"What is it?" You asked dropping your bag.
"Deena dropped it off, she wanted to give it to you but she had to get going."
She held out a red hoodie to you. "Where...how did..."
You took it from her holding it up. "She wanted me to tell you it was of course washed, like a lot." She laughed. You pulled it on wrapping it around yourself, it didn't smell like him anymore but that was ok.
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sockablock · 4 years
Text
(TW for panic attacks and discussions about trauma)
— — —
The thing is, Beau's friends are shit fighters.
To be clear—she's not saying that they're bad at fighting, gods know Veth's a force of nature with her crossbow and all of the spell-slingers can kill with a word—it's just that when it comes to fighting, actual fighting, that down-and-dirty fist-on-flesh shit, her friends suck. Most of 'em just run, or they’d sweet-talk a surrender, or go back to slinging spells.
Beau would never admit she misses the Soul, but at least those people knew how to block. At least Dairon would make her work for it, wouldn't tell her to please, gods, Beau, stop punching me, I give!
Fjord's better these days, but not good enough.
Which is why, on their third morning back in Nicodranas, when Beau opens the door to see Yasha looking restless, she knows exactly what's up.
"Should I get my staff?"
Yasha shrugs. She usually does.
"I'll grab it. Down in five."
Beau considers grabbing some toast too, but she remembers how antsy Yasha seemed and figures she should try to avoid puking in Marion’s yard.
Yasha is stretching when she gets there. The gate swings behind her with a gentle clunk, and she kicks her shoes off, curls her toes in the grass. The sun is barely broken above rooftops and towers, and the first chime of church bells ring out overhead.
Beau yawns a little, but it’s just for flavor. Mind games. She’s not actually sleepy.
“We do not have to—” 
She quickly waves her hand. “It’ll wake me up. You know, get the blood pumping.”
Yasha smiles a little at that. It’s always such a small one, but it’s getting to be familiar.
“I got up early. I couldn’t sleep. Er...sorry.”
Beau doubles her effort to be dismissive. “Don’t apologize to me, Yasha. C’mon. You think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to?”
This seems to be a winning argument. Yasha nods, like she can’t imagine Beau doing anything she doesn’t want.
Maybe it’s the crisp ocean breeze, maybe it’s the way they circle each other in the yard. Maybe it’s the fresh brush of gauze on her fists.
Beau wants to win.
She dives in, pulls low, uses her quick movement to catch Yasha off-guard and get in as closely as she can. Yasha’s tall, broad, strong as an ox, and even holding back, she could wind Beau with a punch. She presses even closer, limiting Yasha’s motions, sweeps out a leg and cuts up when Yasha moves. The two of them duck and weave and push, neither allowing the other an inch, fists flying, blows being blocked and sweat beginning to pour down their backs. Beau lands a hit that leaves Yasha grunting, then stumbles when a wild haymaker knocks her back. It’s clear that Yasha was never taught any form, just scraped it all together by surviving on the moors and her chaotic movement, high endurance, and reckless confidence just make her deadlier.
Beau tries to close in again, but a lucky kick forces her a pace too far. Her knuckles are bruising in that numb, seething way, and so she darts to the side, grabs her staff, vaults up and then arcs her foot to Yasha’s face—
The dance starts again, this time hardwood hitting forearms and on anyone else, Beau might even feel guilty about it. But Yasha barely seems to register the thwack, her teeth bared in a sideways grin, her eyes hard and excited and alive. Beau’s probably wearing the same expression. She hears herself laughing, and knows that she is. Up-swing, down-swing, slide left, throw a punch, block one, dart back, duck and then—
Yasha’s fist catches her right in the gut, sends Beau lurching flat into the dirt. She chokes her own breath, coughs up dust, barely gets an elbow up with Yasha leaning over her, blotting out the sun, raising Beau’s staff for a finishing strike—
Halts.
It’s like watching a tower fall. Yasha staggers back. She drops the staff. She lifts her hands and stares at her palms and Beau hears a mangled breath. Her knees give. She collapses on herself.
Beau scrambles up, aching limbs forgotten.
“Yasha?” she says. “Yasha? Are you—is—what’s wrong?”
Yasha sucks in more air, but that just seems to make things worse. Her shoulders tremble and her lungs sound ragged.
“Aw, shit,” says Beau, “I mean—fuck—uh—”
She half-runs, half-crawls, ‘til she’s at Yasha’s side. She wants to put her hand on Yasha’s arm, thinks better of it, panics a little more. She wishes she were Jester. She wishes she were Cad. They’d know what to do, they’d be better at this than her, anyone, hell, Marius would be better at this than her—
But it’s her, and everyone’s still in the house, so she shakes her head and stamps the fear down. 
“Yasha, I...aw, fuck, I’m—I’m here, it’s okay, nothing’s wrong—” clearly something is wrong, idiot, “—I mean, um, you’re safe here, okay? It’ll be alright. I’m here, and I’ll stay if that’s what you want, okay? I won’t go anywhere, if you don’t want. Uh...can you shake your head if you want me to go? Is that...possible, can you—”
A frantic shake.
“Oh good, okay, thank fuck, then I’m here. I’m right here, Yash. I’m not going anywhere.” She tries to pitch her voice calm, takes deep, long breaths, and continues to murmur as reassuringly as she can until after...seconds? Minutes? Yasha’s trembling slows. 
There’s a pause. Yasha inhales and lets it go. It’s shaky, but apparently good enough because finally, eventually, she turns and looks back at Beau.
“I’m...okay. I am okay.”
Beau sinks back into the grass. Then she lies down. “Oh, cool. I’m, uh, glad.”
“I’m so—”
She holds up a hand. “Nope. C’mon.” She pats the ground beside her.
“Er...what?”
She pats it again, emphatic. “Lie down. C’mon. I think we’ve earned a break.”
She stares up at the sky while Yasha shifts around, and eventually there’s a gentle thud as she lies down. Seagulls cry in the distance and clouds drift slowly past their heads.
Beau swears, but mentally. A private thing.
“So, uh...do we...want to talk about it, or...?”
Yasha is quiet for a moment. That’s not surprising. Then:
“It...reminded me of when I killed you.”
“What? Oh—” 
“Almost killed you,” Yasha amended. “Both times.”
“Right,” says Beau. “That’s...right.”
She thinks about saying—almost. You only almost killed me, so really it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. And you kill people all the time anyway, right?
She blinks. “Wait, you kill people all the time, Yasha. Is it always that bad? Shit, does it always...does it always make you feel like this? Only...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you...break like that...”
She regrets the words immediately. Stupid, Beau, that’s a stupid thing to say. 
But Yasha answers the question earnestly. “It’s usually different,” she says to the sky. “It usually...doesn’t matter. Er...no, not that it doesn’t matter, it just...”
“Doesn’t matter,” Beau sighs. “No, I...sort of get it. Man, that might be fucked up. Of us.”
Yasha shrugs, which rustles the grass. “It’s how it has always been for me. That is just what life is like.”
“I’m sure Jester would disagree.”
“Jester is...nice. I am not. I...have hurt a lot of people. And not just people who were fighting me, or trying to hurt me, but people who were innocent, who did not need not to be hurt, people who care about me, and, and people who I...”
She trails off. Beau can’t see her face, but right now, selfishly, she is glad for it. She feels anger bubbling up in her stomach.
“You were being controlled,” she says fiercely. “You didn’t do it. Someone made you do it.”
“But...part of that...part of it was still me. Since...since you all freed me, I...I remember parts of it. I remember doing it. Those were my hands.” 
Beau can practically hear Yasha’s fist tighten. She definitely feels it when Yasha hits the ground.
“If I was better, or if I was stronger, if I had broken free faster, none of that would have happened, I could have stopped him sooner—”
This time, Beau doesn’t hold back. They’re lying down, so it’s incredibly awkward, but the first thing she can think of is to grab Yasha’s hand.
She sits up, and waves it over Yasha’s face.
“But you didn’t,” she says, then falters, then wants to smack herself. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is...” Then she stops. “No, you know what? Fuck it. You didn’t break out faster. And that’s because it was a miracle you managed it in the first place. Yasha, you were being controlled by a devil. You were being controlled by the Chained Oblivion. The fact that you were even a person the first time we met—and you were a person, you were funny, you charged me money to, to, well, you charged me five gold, remember that?”
Yasha blinks. Her wrist is slack in Beau’s grip.
“I...do, yes, I remember that.”
“Right. The fact that you were a person then meant that they couldn’t keep their claws in you. Because you were strong. You were better. Better than everything they tried to make you. You kept breaking free.”
Yasha does not try to squirm away, only stays there.
“But...I needed help every time that I did escape. I never managed it on my own. First it was...it was Kord, and then you all—”
“Of course!” Beau throws her other arm into the air. “Who the fuck could do it on their own?! All that means is that when you had a chance, the second you had a chance, you were outta there. In your heart, you knew what was right. You knew it, and held onto it, even when I’m sure it would’ve been so easy to stay there, to stay in that hell and just go through the motions and lose yourself in...in grief, and loss and...and all that. But you didn’t. And now look at you.”
She cracks a goofy smile, all desperation to make what she’s trying to say heard.
“You’re an angel, Yasha. Remember?”
Yasha slowly sits up too. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, black turning white, with little blades of grass.
Beau is made painfully aware of the fact that she’s still holding Yasha’s hand. She lets go. Then she swears again, and hopes that Yasha doesn’t think it’s because of anything s—
“I am, aren’t I?”
Her gaze shoots up and Yasha's wearing a goofy smile too. Small, a bit nervous, but real and warm.
It’s getting to be familiar.
Beau snorts. She snorts so loud that it might dislodge something in her chest. She hits Yasha gently on the arm.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t, uh, don’t let it go to your head.”
She can see Yasha nodding in the corner of her eye.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Then, after a brief battle over whether or not to bring it up, “I don’t...I don’t...for the record, I’m not mad about you stabbing me. Or whatever.”
Yasha looks stricken, and Beau regrets it instantly. “Shit, should I not have reminded you of—”
“No,” Yasha sighs, and her face softens. “No. I am...glad that you are not mad at me.”
“Should we, like...go to a cleric about this?” Beau asks. “Is this going to be something that happens in, like...fights? Because if it does, it might put you in danger. Also, it’s...it probably sucks for you. Right?”
Fjord would probably have something to say about the way she’s handling this conversation. He’s not here now.
“I...don’t know,” Yasha says eventually. “It hasn’t happened before. It was only...just now. And...just with you. It...hurting you reminded me of being controlled. It...brought me back to all the times that my mind was not my own.”
“I’m sorry,” Beau says, because she’s not sure what else to say.
“No,” says Yasha. Beau looks up, surprised by the weight in her words. “If I am not allowed to be sorry to you, you cannot be sorry to me.”
“Ah,” says Beau. She feels a grin pulling. “In that case...I’m not sorry.”
Yasha nods, like this is sacred, and Beau can’t help but snort again. 
“C’mon,” she says. “We can...work this shit out later. Or start to. With a cleric if you want, or not, if you don’t. But I just got my ass kicked, and I’m thirsty. What do you say to some drinks? I think there’s juice. Do you like juice?”
She stands up, and sticks out a hand. 
Yasha takes it.
“Okay. I like juice.”
— — — 
✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN
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stormblessed95 · 3 years
Text
Memories 2015 Disc 4 Pt 2
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So I asked awhile ago when I said I was going back to watch every memories DVD they have released so far, if you would be interested in commentary from me as I did so. There were a lot of people who said yes, so here we are! I have officially watched BTS Memories of 2015. Here are my thoughts as I went. There were only 4 DVDs in this one. Parts 1 - 3 with all the other discs is already up and on my masterlist. Reminder that these aren't going to be smoothly written out thoughts. You get these like I'm live reacting, texting my bestie or live tweeting. Lol it'll be in like bullet point format sort of, just... a commentary post as I go. Lol Hope you enjoy anyway! Let's go! This will be the final part to the Memories 2015 commentary.
Disc 4:
Run MV Making Film:
This was all shot in November of 2015.
Lol RM starts the video off by saying lots of things are different from I Need U, but that he is still eating candies and they are still running. 😂 glad some things are still the same Joon.
There are random dogs running around the set. Namjoon wants to shoot his walking down the track scenes with them. Lol and JK just picks one up and brings it right over him. What hyung wants, hyung gets 😂
They literally just had them sprint multiple times through like 15 different sets. Lol they all have to be exhausted!!
BTS: trying to act like punks and like they are drunk in an ally. Editors: "But they all still look like nice kids." Lol BTS can do no wrong, not even in pretend according to their staff.
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Jikook starting off their next filming day by some light complaining about another full day of running the whole time. Lol they say their next title track should be called "Sleep" which would be an easier MV to film 😂
While reviewing their group running shots, Yoongi tells everyone to Run like Jimin because he runs well 🥺 and I can't get over the way Jhope cuddled up to Jimin while laying on his lap for their group field cuddle pile scene. Sope shooting a unit scene together walking away from the camera and Yoongi struggling because he started giggling everytime he made eye contact with Hobi 😂
I love that filmed a scene with everyone eating except for Jikook who are playing soccer together as everyone else cheers them on. And in a later scene when all the hyungs run up and hug JK. Yoongi crashes into him with an arm slung around his shoulder, but I am absolutely loving the way that Jimin just softly circles an arm around his entire waist to hold him tightly there too. 🥺🥺
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Last day of shooting and it's all their indoor scenes this time. Lol Jimin, "Hobi hyung and I are supposedly hospitalized and we are having a pillow fight, but I can't hit him. I have to be hit" *insert grumpy pout* 😂 and the contrast between Hobi then explaining the exact same thing with a look of absolute glee about getting to hit Jimin in the head with a pillow. Editors calling them out on their constant bickering that follows. And the way he was smiling so big as he whacked Jimin with the pillow like 5 times in a row for the shot 🤣🤣 I love them
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Yoongi and JK practicing for their fighting scene and Yoongi goes "we are fighting, but I don't know why." And it is reassuring that sometimes BTS finds their music videos as confusing as I sometimes do at first as well.
Filming their group pillow fight and Yoongi shouts, watch out Jimin before running up and slamming the heck outta JK with his pillow. Oh my god. 🤣🤣 who then got Jimin with his pillow while Jimin was busy laughing at him. Lmfao love my bias line 🥰
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Jimin is upset he is the one who keeps having to be hit with pillows. Lmfao the way he asks the director if it's because he jumped on his car for the tunnel scenes the day before 🤣 Jimin thought the director was getting revenge on him!
Jin covered in feathers from the pillow fight. "This is ruining my handsome face." JIN THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE SIR.
All 7 of them crammed into a small photobooth only to come out grumbling, Jihope complaining that the other guys smell and Jungkook going "that scene did nothing but hurt our feelings." Lmfao awww
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Jimin thrown into the bathtub. Editors: Jimin is suffering all day today. Lmfao the director really did have him be the one hit with all the pillows and then soaked in the tub. 🤣 Tae and Yoongi ended up in there with him though. And director. Sir. Why do you keep putting Jimin in white in bathtubs?! The members enjoyed splashing him in that tub way too much. Lol
Tae whining about how all the members said they were going home and he has to stay to film the last scenes in the pool which was freezing cold. But Jimin and Jungkook both stayed and waited for him and all 3 went home together. Maknae line 🥺🥺 ugh. Such a good video. They spent 70 hours filming. That's incredible.
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BTS "Butterfly Dream" Making Film:
I love Jin. SO MUCH. "The exhibition will be a great success because it has my face all over it." The confidence is DESERVED! And Hobi is just like "can we go to the exhibition too?" I love them. So much.
Jungkook doing flips while shooting darts. And Jimin is just watching him in amazement, being throughly impressed. Look, the showing off was totally unnecessary, amazing, but unnecessary. But I also totally get it 🤣
Tae, "everyone. Just remember we are always by your side. I love you." Someone help me. He is the sweetest man in the world.
Hobi! His face when half his backdrop fell on him during his photoshoot 🤣🤣 they all looked so good though!
Vmin randomly dancing 😂🥰
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Boy In Luv (Chinese Ver.) Recording:
They work so hard. This was only like a 3 minute clip, but it's amazing. Not only are they recording a song in a language they don't speak, but they are working so hard to make sure it's perfect.
Namjoon is probably one of the coolest people I've ever seen ever. He is amazing.
Jungkook can't help but burst into giggles everytime he hears his recording singing in Chinese in his headphones and it is throwing him off. Lol
Jin is super good at Chinese and I'm amazed!
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Tae following Suga into the recording booth to head bop around. Jikook practicing their Chinese together briefly in the corner.
Such a short clip but so much happened!
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So this is officially the end of Memories 2015. I absolutely adored the heck out of it. It was amazing. I already definitely saw some shifts between Jikook in here too. You can see their dynamic teetering on the edge of change this year. They work so so hard. Honestly it's amazing watching this and getting that overall feeling of awe and appreciation for them and everything they do over and over again. Thanks for letting me share! 💜💜
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buttterknifeee · 3 years
Text
An Introduction Pt.3- Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader
Pt.1 Pt.2
Requests for this series is now open!!! You can request for ships, episode inserts, and headcanons for this series!!! More info can be found here
Summary: You guys are like the "Friends" of the crime-fighting world. Robin's totally Ross and if this was one of those episodes, it would be called "The one where aliens get their asses kicked"
Ships: none, see info above
A/N: Once again this is a reader insert for the Teen Titans 2003 show season 5 episode 10 (the one where they all meet!) I also added an epilogue for funzies.
You found yourself in a dark bubble of Raven’s magic, floating up to the alien ship. You had offered to water jet all six of you up, but you weren’t even sure if you could create that big of a geyser. Besides, a quiet bubble is much better than a large geyser. Beast Boy, however, disagreed.
“That dark energy stuff gives me the--” He was cut off by a glare from Raven. ”Uh...I mean, it's cool!” He gives a guilty grin.
Robin tells us to go to the firing control room, and you all crept through the hallway in a single file line: Robin, the pink-haired girl, Beast Boy, You, Cyborg, and Raven, who you noticed was still near the entrance. Cyborg gave you a look as if to say Keep going; I’ll handle this. You nodded and continued walking forward.
You were walking near Beast Boy, when you noticed a cut on his arm, with that part of his suit torn open. You pointed at it.
“Hey, you alright?” you asked, referring to the gnash.
“Oh this?” He replies. “This is nothing. When you’ve been a part of the DOOM patrol, a little cut is nothing.” He smiles confidently, patting his wound. You realize that he was totally bluffing when a comical tear springs from his eye and his arm tenses.
“Here I can help.” you say softly. Concentrating on the air between your hands, you condense the liquid in the air, forming a small bubble of water. You move that bubble of water onto his arm and it begins to glow. You let go of the water, revealing Beast Boy’s arm to be completely healed.
“Dudeee,” he stares in awe of your handiwork. “That's so cool-” He’s interrupted by your stumbling; healing really does take a lot out of you. He lets you lean on him, and the two of you continued walking forwards. After a few seconds, he stops.
“Uh, guys?” he says. And that's when you noticed it too. The six of you were surrounded by alien soldiers, and they seemed really out for your blood. “I think they know we’re here.” The six of you charged at the fleet of soldiers. But Robin seemed to have an idea.
“Raven!” he yelled. “Take out part of the floor!” Raven looked at him with confusion, but then nodded and did as she was told. With a large SMASH, she removed the part of the bottom of the ship, revealing the water below. The water below you realized, suddenly understanding Robin’s plan.
“Aquagirl! Now!” he yelled, holding off a soldier with his staff.
“On it!” you yell, punching another alien out of the way. (Apparently with water powers came enhanced strength, which you found out at that moment.)
Concentrating on the water below, you raised your arms, allowing the ocean to shoot up from below. Instead of blasting the water through the entire ship, you carefully controlled it to grab onto the aliens that were attacking your friends, pulling them through the hole and causing them to fall into the ocean below.
You looked at the door to the control room, which was locked shut.
“I got this.” Robin said, placing something shaped like a birdirang onto the door.
As the bidirang counted down, you heard Trogaar talking from behind the door. “The Earth scum shall learn it takes more than six juvenile heroes to defy the mighty Lord Trogaar!” he said, most likely with a smile on his face. You all looked at each other, prepared to prove him wrong.
The door exploded, and Robin was the first to get through. “We’re not six heroes,” he declared. “We’re one team.” Him considering the six of you a team sparked something inside of you. You all split up to take down Trogaar and his guard, with Robin at the lead. You took on a guard, kicking him in the stomach and sending him flying towards a wall.
You noticed that Robin was on the shoulders of Trogaar, and you sent a jet of water to his face to knock him off balance. That didn’t work and he threw Robin across the deck. Luckily, he landed on his feet. The two of you joined to fight Trogaar, taking turns to land punches and kicks. However he overpowered you and Robin, throwing you both across the room. You landed on your back, but Robin hit the wall with the back of his head and fell to the floor.
“Robin! Aquagirl!” The alien girl yelled. You got up as quickly as possible and helped Robin up from sitting position as she and Cyborg tried to take on Trogaar, only to be thrown in your direction as well.
Still leaning on you, Robin looked at Cyborg’s arm. “Can you rewire that into some sort of weapon?” he asked.
“I can try,” he said, getting up. The four of you were in a fighting stance, despite being injured and surrounded by Trogaar and his goons. Suddenly, you hear a voice, as clear as day.
“Get away from my friends!” It was Raven, supporting an injured beast boy. “Azarath Metrion Zinthos!” she chanted. Part of the ship exploded, sending it crashing into the ocean.
You found yourself standing in the ship, the roof torn off and making a slow descent into the ocean. All of the alien soldiers were groaning on the ground, but Robin, Cyborg, and the alien girl were all unharmed. The four of you watched in horror as Trogaar aimed to attack Raven when BLAM! You turned to see Cyborg standing next to you with a smoking sonic blaster in place of his arm. He grins.
“Alright I’m only gonna say this once. Boo-Yah!”
“Yo, is it just me or are some of these guys starting to move again?” Beat Boy points out, still slumped in Raven’s arms. He was right; a few of the aliens began to twitch, making attempts to get up. You turn to the other 5 people.
“You guys don’t worry. They’re in the ocean now, meaning that they’re in my territory.” You cracked your knuckles, your eyes glowing blue.
.
.
It’s the next morning and you find yourself sitting with Robin, Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy, looking at a view of the bay and an island
“Thanks so much for the new suit Cyborg!” you say, fiddling with your brand new outfit. You were wearing a cropped short-sleeve rash guard and swim shorts, both with deep cyan and black patterns. He also gave you black gauntlets with curved spikes ‘To protect yourself from bad guys and still be aerodynamic!’ according to him. Robin gave you one of his old yellow belts, since he figured you’ll probably need something to carry stuff in. Finally, you found some black scuba shoes from the swimwear store that allowed you to walk and swim with ease.
“Its no problem AG! I figured you needed a new outfit if you’re gonna be a superhero now” Cyborg chuckled, calling you a new nickname that he probably made up just then. Superhero, you thought. I like the sound of that.
Raven had a far away look in her eyes.“That's quite a view.” she said, still staring that the scenery
“Somebody oughta build a house out there,” Cyborg agreed, his voice now softer.
“Yeah, if you like sunshine and the beach.” Beast Boy added, making an obvious dig at Raven.
“You know, you're kind of funny.” Raven said to your surprise, smiling softly at Beast Boy. This was obviously too much for the guy’s ego.
“You think I'm funny?” Beast Boy sat up straight, looking at Raven. “Dude! I know some jokes!”
You laughed at Raven’s face of pure regret, before a familiar voice brought your attention to behind you. It was the alien girl, now in a purple outfit similar to the one before, but this time it seemed to really suit her.
“I look .. nice?” she asked, obviously insecure. You took her hand again.
“You look amazing,” you reassured her, causing her cheeks to flush.
Robin stepped forwards. “I still don’t know your name,” he said.
“In your language, it would be ‘Star Fire.’” she says with a smile.
“Welcome to Earth, Starfire.” Robin said.
She looked at you all shyly, certainly different from when you first met. “ I thank you all for your bravery and help, and I wish to ask permission...to remain here. Where the people are most strange ...but also most kind.”
“You don’t need our permission,” Raven said calmly.
“But if you want our friendship, you've got it.” Robin added.
“I could use a new friend,” you say with a wink.
“Guess we could all use some new friends.” Cyborg agrees.
“Besides, we kind of made a good team.” Beast Boy says proudly.
“I thought we might want to keep in touch, so Cyborg and I designed these.” Robin fished out four black and yellow communicators. You, Raven, Beast Boy, and Starfire each took one and observed them. They were similar to flip phones, but they were circular and had no logo on the front.
“Made ‘em outta my own circuits, '' Cyborg said proudly.
“When there’s trouble, you know who to call,” Robin said. You all smiled at one another. You were a team.
Epilogue
While everyone else was still smiling at one another, you excused yourself and walked a few feet away. You opened your new communicator, dialing in a phone number you know by heart. You waited for the person on the other line to pick up, and began to speak.
“Heyyy dad. It’s (y/n); you must have been worried sick, I’m sorry… Yeah no I’m fine, really. I’m in uhhh Jump City and I made some of the coolest friends and I was wondering... if I could stay here? I’ve been spending the whole night wanting to go back home, but I think this might be home for me. I understand if- oh? Really? You’ll let me stay? Wow, thanks dad. I-I promise that I’ll be careful and that I’ll go to school here, I know there's this high school called Murakami School I’ll try to… I love you too dad. I’ll talk to you later.”
You flip your communicator closed, and walked back to your new friends. Raven looked at you.
“Are you alright?” she asked, noticing your change in mood.
“Yeah,” you say, a smile forming on your face. “I’m great actually. Just had to call home.”
“You're going home???” Beast Boy asked, a frown falling on his face.
You chuckled, “Of course not.” You lightly punched his shoulder. “Besides, this is my home now.”
“Awe Yeah!” the green guy cheered. You laugh, feeling extra cheerful. Now that you’re in a team, you really do feel like you belong. You looked at your new team.
“Anyone up for pizza?”
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we-love-imagines · 3 years
Text
Order Up
Valentine’s Event: Day 3
Prompt: Mista + Restaurant 
Ao3 Link
Author’s Note: This one is still a Gender Neutral Reader, but I do use the term ‘waitress’ in reference to you. God, I love Mista. My friend, who I recently got into Jojo, just finished part 5, and I was reminded how much I love this goofball while watching it with her. Anyways, on with the show!
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Something was up with Mista. The gang all noticed how he held himself differently, put more effort into his appearance, and they really noticed how much better he smelled. At first, Bruno and Abbachio would give each other confused glances when they saw his back straighten up when they entered Libeccio’s, or how he’d abruptly excuse himself from the table, red in the face, but the truth quickly became clear to them.
Whenever you would come by to take their order, Mista would freeze up and stumble over his words; the usually jokey, confident gunslinger reduced to a flustered mess at your presence. 
The older mafiosos thought it was kind of cute- he’d struggle to meet your eyes, but stare at you as you’d walk away. He was like a little lovesick puppy, hanging on your every word as if it were gospel. It was subtle enough that Fugo and Narancia didn’t catch on at first, but once they did, they teased him relentlessly.
“Mista,” Narancia nudged his friend with a sing-song voice as they approached their regular restaurant, “You think that cute waitress is gonna be working today?”
“Of course they are,” Fugo smirked, a rare show of his fun side, “-Take a whiff, he showered today!”
“Is that cologne?” Abbachio added from behind. Bruno just snickered to himself, unable to hide the little smile on his face. The whole situation was too entertaining to him.
“Damn, Mista’s got it bad!” Narancia chuckled, watching as Mista’s face went beet-red. He knew there was no use in hiding his crush from his teammates, they could all read him like a book. That was the curse of being in life-or-death situations with these men a few too many times over- they knew Mista and his little cues all too well. All the man could do was sit and take it, much to his displeasure.
“Okay, Okay,” Bruno interjected, making his way to the front of the group, “Knock it off, we’re here. Play nice with Mista, or else he might blow a gasket.”
Shuffling inside, the group made their way to their usual table in the back room where they conducted business. Some of the workers at Libeccio’s were a little afraid of them, off-put by the mafia conducting business in their place of work, but most of them were fine with it. It guaranteed their protection under Passione, and they didn’t come off as all that violent. Hell, Bruno had developed a reputation as one of their kindest, most patient customers, always leaving nice tips and keeping his rowdier guests in line. All the staff had to do was turn the other cheek when something shady was going on in their backroom; on Passione’s turf, that was the best way to save your skin.
Despite their good reputation, Bruno noticed how some of the newer employees seemed nervous when taking their order or bringing them to their table. So, a lot of the older staff dealt with them, the group having a few usual servers when they’d come to visit. However, it came as a surprise when you worked your way into that rotation. Seeing as you were brand new, it must have taken a lot of guts for you to deal with the mafiosos. You came off as confident, the new little waitress waltzing up to their table with no fear in your eyes. Is that what Mista saw in you?
Taking their seats, the group made casual conversation as they looked over the menu. They had eaten here numerous times before, so they already had an idea of what they all wanted- but hey, what’s the harm in branching out from time to time?
Suddenly, Mista’s back straightened to the telltale click-clack of your shoes entering the room, amused smirks painting the other men’s faces as you came in. 
“Hello everyone,” you smiled, “How are you all doing today?”
“We’re all doing well, thank you,” Bruno replied, shooting a sly glance Narancia’s way to quiet his incessant giggling. The boy quickly quieted down when he felt his leader kick him under the table.
“Good! What will we be having today?”
Every man gave their order, Mista averting his eyes as he did so. You were just too damn pretty, and he knew he’d stammer over his words if he looked you in the eye. 
You weren’t an idiot, noticing the man’s flustered expressions and how you caught his fleeting glances from time to time. Seeing as you were one of the group’s few servers, you got to overhear a few of their conversations from time to time. Mista- Guido, you think his first name was- was a funny guy, and his little offhand comments and weird conversation topics made you crack a smile and giggle to yourself on multiple occasions. Not to mention he was super cute, and the generous view of his abs gave you some nice eye-candy during a long shift. 
Some of the other staff would tease you about it, noticing your insistence to always ‘handle’ the mafioso’s table. You shoved it off, telling them that they were seeing things, but you could never ignore the blush that dusted your cheeks after those conversations. God, did you really have a crush on a mafia man? A handsome, funny, nice mafia man?
“Would you like the usual strawberry cake with that, Mr. Bucciarati?” you asked, finishing up their order. The man simply nodded, thanking you as you dismissed yourself. As you went away, however, you looked over your shoulder to see a certain sweater-clad mafioso staring at you. Locking eyes for just a moment, you both quickly turned away, tiny smiles on both of your faces.
You returned a little while after, wheeling their food in on a little cart. After serving each of the men their own individual plates, you present the cake to them, in all of it’s frosting-covered glory. 
“I sliced it into ten pieces, just how you like it,” you whispered to Mista before you excused yourself. The others looked at him, a little puzzled, as his face turned pink.
“What was that about?” Narancia playfully asked, “You two keeping secrets?”
“No, no, it’s not that,” Mista smiled back, seeing you leave the room from the corner of his eye. What he didn’t see was how you stilled behind the room’s entrance, trying to listen in on what he’d say about you.
“Remember that one conversation we had, ‘bout two weeks ago? About the number four?”
They all nodded, knowing most conversations with Mista led to his disdain of the number.
“Well, they used to cut the cake into nine slices. After we’d each have one, there would be four left. I dunno if they overheard me or something, but they cut it into ten pieces now, so there will never be four.”
“Are you sure it’s not a new policy or something? It sounds like extra work to cut a circle into nine pieces.” Fugo interjected, adding a dose of reality to the situation. Mista grinned as he shook his head.
“No- it only happens when they’re our server. They slice it themself.”
“Wow,” Bruno couldn’t help but laugh, letting his softer side through once again, “That waitress sounds perfect for you, Mista. No wonder you get so red when they come by.”
“Ah, it’s nothing. I don’t have the balls to ask them out anyways,” Mista shrugged, starting to nibble at his food, “Have you seen ‘em? They’re way outta my league.”
Your heart swelled at the comment, blushing furiously as you finally went back to your job. Did that hot guy really think you were out of his league? Did he really find you so attractive that he couldn’t even look at you? As your mind raced with thoughts, you found yourself making a few more mistakes than usual- confusing tables, refilling cups with the wrong beverage, and many more tiny slip-ups. While your manager would chastise you for these mistakes later, you couldn’t help it- you were so flattered by the young man’s words.
After finishing their meal and conducting their business, Bruno waved you over for the bill. You quickly went about adding up their total, printing out a receipt before going to collect Bruno’s money.
However, as you found yourself walking back over to their table, a wave of bravery washed over you. Taking the pen in your apron pocket, you scribbled down a little note on the receipt, taking a deep breath before entering their back room. To Bruno’s surprise, you put the bill in front of Mista, giving him a little wink before you left.
Curiously, the gunslinger read the receipt. His face lit up when he discovered the message was for him- your phone number.
“Call me sometime, Mista!” you wrote under it, “Xoxo -(Y/n)”
Since he wasn’t going to ask you out, you decided to do so yourself.
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