#over 4000 in and not even halfway done

[droplets88]

Sneak Peek to my FNAF SB fanfic: Point you in the Right Direction!

“Oof-! Geez, what-What is in this-this box?!”

You groaned as you slowly carried the damned box towards Glamrock Gifts. Your arm was burning from the weight on the limb, your legs strained as you stumbled with every step hoping your knees wouldn’t give out underneath you. You were about halfway there when you accidentally tripped over a wet floor bot you didn’t see. A small yelp left your lips as your vision blurred; your body plummeting forwards- before you were suddenly stopped. One mechanical hand held the back of your shirt while the other held tightly to the other end of the box in your grip.

[thankskenpenders]

Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.

First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.

Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.

The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...

I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.

The why

I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.

Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.

But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)

The what, how, and when

So here's the plan.

Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.

After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.

I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.

I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.

So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?

[ultra-clashpects]

Hey yall, here's an update.

I know I've been gone for a lil while, I apologize for that, but life's been hectic. A lot of family stuff has come and gone and gotten in the way, and right now I'm getting ready to graduate school (yes I'm still a child lmfao). Things are gonna change in my life a lot within the next few months, but I'll still be here and try my best to continue working.

In the meantime, I've been working on sprites and the clashpect pictures, it's a lot of work and I'm sorry it's taking so long. I've also been working on the wiki, there's just over 4000 pages on it now and I'm not even halfway done. All of the blank 1:2 and 2:1 pages have been added and I'm working on adding the links in all the disambiguation pages and such. Also working on the 2:2 document page with all several thousand of those, so hopefully that'll be done soon.

Thank you all for sticking around and I'm sorry that I'm not the most active poster anymore, but I do love and value all of you a great deal and I promise some cool things are coming in the future. Stay safe yall <3

[ https://classpects-remixed-the-clashpects.fandom.com/wiki/Classpects_Remixed:_The_Clashpects_Wiki ]

[popentertainment-interviews]

Khris Davis

Channeling the Champ in Big George Foreman

by Jay S. Jacobs

It’s never easy to play someone who is larger than life. However, Khris Davis has the goods.

Davis was born in Camden, New Jersey and started his acting career in nearby Philadelphia. And, coincidentally, he has played a few parts based on real life characters even before getting the lead role in the biofilm about two-time heavyweight boxing champion George Foreman.

In fact, Foreman isn’t even the first boxer that Davis has played. His theatrical breakthrough role was the lead in the play The Royale, which is a fictionalized version of the life of Jack Johnson, the first Black man to win the heavyweight boxing championship. (Johnson was champ from 1908-1915.)

Davis has also been in fact-based films like Detroit and Judas & the Black Messiah. Of course, it’s not all been hard facts for Davis, he also turned heads a couple of years ago as LeBron James’ best friend in the goofy and sweet comedy Space Jam: A New Legacy.

However, he is getting his first film lead role in Big George Foreman: The Miraculous Story of the Once and Future Heavyweight Champion of the World. Playing the former boxing champ, who made history by winning the heavyweight belt twice over 20 years apart, Davis takes a physical and mental ride through the history (and body changes) of the famous boxer, minister and grill master.

A couple of weeks before the premiere of Big George Foreman, we were one of three local media outlets who got a chance to speak with Davis together at the Four Seasons Hotel in Philadelphia about the film and his career.

You went through an incredible physical transformation halfway through shooting. How challenging was that? What did you learn from that process?

Oh, man, what I learned was I could put my body through a lot of trauma. (laughs) Even the boxing training was incredibly difficult. There were days where I just felt like it was impossible, and I wasn't going to be able to do the job. When it came to gaining the weight, I thank God I’d done boxing training before because I had already experienced so much intense working out. My body was being stretched and pulled in 20 different directions. When it came to gaining the weight, I was ready for that kind of intensity. They wanted me to gain to get to around 280-285, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to do that. We got a plan together with a nutritionist; 4000 calories a day when I was just home sitting around, 5000 calories a day when I was filming it, and 6000 calories a day when I was boxing training. However, that was never going to get me to weight. So, I did some mixing and matching. I ended up eating 7000 calories a day. I gained 50 pounds in five weeks. Went from 225 to 275. In total, I got to 282. It was it was really intense, man. I mean, the first week all I could do was see stars and sleep.

How much involvement did the real George Foreman have? Did you spend any time with him? Was he around the production of the film?

He was one of the executive producers. He showed up one day on set. Before that, before we even started, I spent three days in Houston with him, just talking to him and getting to know him. Spending time at one of his ranches. When he showed up on set, it was the day that we were filming the fight for Joe Frazier. Oh, yeah. I walked in and I was so focused. I didn't want to talk to anybody. I didn't even go over to shake his hand. I didn't want to go over and start glad handing [because] then I get in there and I'm trying to box, to emulate him and I [would] look like a clown. Then he'd be like, “Oh, man, this kid's messing up my story.” I was just focusing on the fight. He was watching on the monitor. When he left, one of the producers came over to me and she said, “Khris, he was watching the monitor. He leaned over to his daughter and said, ‘That boy can fight.’” I knew then that we were on the right track.

You're a little bit too young to have seen most of George Foreman's career, but what did you know about him before getting the role? What was it about his story that intrigued you to make it?

I didn't know much about him, except for the fact that he was the hurdle that Ali had to get over. Ali was such a pivotal fighter at that time, a [pivotal] figure at that time. [I knew] he was very boisterous and flamboyant, so it was easy to overshadow a lot of the guys at that time. And I knew him as the grill guy from the commercial. I really didn't know much about him except for that. When I took on this role, essentially everything that I learned about him was brand new. All the history about his career, who he was in the ring, who he fought. It was incredible to learn about him. Read his autobiographies, saw almost every interview that I could find on him, things like that. That's what I know now, what I learned about him. Then also that time I spent in Houston with him gave me a different perspective on who he was. Because we watch these videos, we read the autobiographies and things like that, but you're still just getting a presentational version of him. That's not the story we were telling. We weren’t telling a bunch of vignettes of interviews and commercials. We were telling a story about a deeply human individual. Having the ability to do that, meeting him and extracting some of that and putting all that together to tell this story was good.

One of the things that we learn about George Foreman is he's a very spiritual man. What did you as a person take away from the experience of walking in his shoes in this film?

What I take from it is just because you're spiritual doesn't mean life isn't hard. It doesn't mean that sometimes you don't lose faith. Because you will, you'll be challenged. The challenge is to keep your faith and keep leaning on that faith with those challenges. It doesn't mean you're not going to have to work hard. It doesn't mean you're not going to lose everything. It just means that you're going to have to dig deeper and lean further into that faith. I already believed that for myself before getting this film. So, it was exciting that aspect of his life was in there. I could identify. I think that it will help tell the story from beginning to end. How I can lean into that – or lead into that – find that and then carry that.

You're from South Jersey, and you spent some time in Philadelphia doing some stage acting.

Yeah.

How did how did that shape you as an actor?

My time here doing theater in Philadelphia was key for me. Had I gone to LA or New York before doing theater here, I think I might have made some missteps. I think I might not have had the growth or achieved the kind of growth that I needed before going there. I was able to get with a group of people. We created a classical theatre company called Quintessence Theatre Group in Mount Airy. I oftentimes say that being in Philadelphia was my grad school. I learned so much here. That carried me into New York to do theater. That still carries me today. It is a part of my foundation, very foundational for me, starting off here.

You have played a boxer before in The Royale on stage. What is it about boxing and boxers that you think make for interesting protagonists?

Well, not all boxers are interesting. But you think about the two men – Jack Johnson (The Royale was a fictionalized version of Johnson’s life), and George Foreman. I think that Jack Johnson story needs to be told more. I don't think people really understand what he represents, and what he did at that time. How it has shaped and affected all of the sports culture to this day. I mean, you talk about big money, wearing the coats, hanging out with ladies, fast cars; it started with him. That was his life. What he did and the racial implications as a fighter at that time – they weren’t letting Black men fight for the heavyweight championship belt of the world. When I look at images of him. You see the images of him in the ring, he’s surrounded. I thought this was crazy. This man must have a God touch on him, because how could you be in a room or in a space where there are hundreds of white men who were there to see you go down? Better not beat our white champion. He does it and he walks out. Nobody touched him. Blew me away, but this was what he was doing. He owned homes in white neighborhoods. He was in interracial marriages at a time where we believe it was illegal. It's an incredible story. So, diving into his life was interesting for me too, because I was like: who is this guy in the midnight hour? What were his emotional complexities that no one knows? The same thing with Mr. Foreman. It's easy to bypass him and just call him a brute, a slugger, a brooding menace. But he's a person. When you watch those interviews, it's easy to miss those quick smiles that he has. Those quick looks that he gives people to connect. That's the human part of him. That's what I wanted to bring out. I wanted to put a light on all of the underdog energy people were giving him because Ali was there at that time, but he in my opinion was nobody's underdog. I think if Ali hadn't been there, we'd be calling George Foreman the greatest fighter of all time.

You mentioned doing a lot of research in terms of watching the media and reading interviews and such. Is there anything that didn't make it into the film or piece of his life that you wish you would have been able to explore?

The autobiography by George, reading that book, I was like this man's life can be like 10 seasons of a TV show because it's so epic. So, you had to just pick what story we wanted to tell and stay true to that. There's so much that didn't make it into the script. There's so much that didn't make it into the movie that we did. He had such an incredible life. (He points to the poster.) The word miraculous is there because it is miraculous, his story. I wish that we could have done like a three-parter, (laughs) or some type of miniseries on it because we couldn't really touch on everything.

We're in Philadelphia, the home of Rocky. The steps are right there if you look out the window.

Yeah, we were over there earlier.

Being from the area, what do the Rocky and the Creed movies mean to you? Do they in any way inform your performance in this boxing movie?

I'll tell you. (laughs) I've always imagined myself saying this in the interview. When you're from Camden, South Jersey and live in Philadelphia, doing theater, lots of times, being the lead of a studio film, you think about it, but it's such an impossibility that you like, sure, whatever. You think about being on Broadway, you're like, yeah, sure, whatever. It's there, but you don't really believe that you're going to touch it. I would go running. When I would go jogging, I would listen to a song from Rocky IV, “No Easy Way Out” (performed by Robert Tepper). It says, “there's no easy way out. There's no shortcut home.” There's no shortcut, you’ve got to take the hard road. You’ve got to put in the work. Whenever I would run, I would listen to that song that was on my playlist. I would imagine myself doing boxing montages. (laughs) Here I am now, with boxing montages. Yeah, so it affected me tremendously. I loved the Rocky films growing up.

You work with two of my favorite actors in this. What was it like working with Forest Whitaker and Sonja Sohn?

They're incredible actors. They’re such strong actors. Working with Forest was like being in a master class. The dude is so smooth and effortless with it. That might come with time and experience. It was [also] like a master class working with Sonja. She's such a powerful actor. She brings the heat every single time. She's no joke.

In terms of theatre versus film, the preparation definitely is very different. Which do you prefer?

I used to say theater because I thought it was more intellectual. But they both come with tremendous challenges. I think that if you're going to act at the highest level, then all of the work is intellectual. I think that this film proved me wrong in that. This film showed me the light when it comes to what you can do with TV and film. How you can still inspire through TV and film. How it can be intellectual. How it requires those deeper parts of you as well. Sure, we tell it in segments, but if we're telling it correctly, we're still doing the same kind of work that we do on these set scripts that we do on stage. I think that we can tell a very impactful and powerful story. They both deserve the same amount of energy.

One of the first things I think about George Foreman is When We Were Kings, the Oscar-winning documentary about the “Rumble in the Jungle” fight. Did you study that film while you were preparing for this?

No, that was just a part of the larger packet of information that I had on him. Because at that moment, we didn't get a chance to play that in the film. Everything that he was going through in his life at that time really affected his state of mind when he was there. There are some parts of that I wanted to be in the film because I think it was key to his journey. This Ali fight really changed the course of his life in a lot of different ways. The footage in that film, you don't really get much from him. He's standing there. He's chewing gum. He’s giving you short answers. He's beating up a bag. We see this. He didn't do a lot of a lot of press while he was out there. He didn't want to be seen with Ali. Some of the things that I have found around that fight were a little more colorful when he was talking about it. I thought that those were more interesting. I didn't want to get locked into just a brooding, menacing person. It’s a two-hour movie, if I'm in the movie just brooding the whole time, that’s not interesting. But it was definitely important to watch, I would say.

Tiny bit off the subject, but you just did Death of a Salesman on Broadway, which is such a classic play. What was that like to be part of?

Again, it came down to doing the work. It's such a well-known [story], like doing Mr. Foreman, right, he is a well-known person. But it's easy to make a mistake, right? It's easy to do wrong. Everybody's going to have an opinion – who he was, what he did, this and that. When it comes to Death of a Salesman, everybody studies that at some point during their educational journey in America. Everybody has an opinion on it. Everybody has a thought on it. Then you say we're going to make the Loman family black? How's that going to work? When we started doing it, we all understood we had that responsibility. Some of those questions were going to come up. We didn't change any of the dialogue at all, but everything resonated so differently. The idea of the American dream meant something else when you saw it through that lens. Because Willy Loman being met with those challenges as someone who isn't black resonates differently.

That’s true.

When Willy Loman is black, when he has to walk into that office and has to pick that lighter up off the floor, when they won't give him a job, when he has to go beg for money from his neighbor. Right? For a long time, we didn't talk about mental health within the Black community or that it was a thing. Now you're opening up the conversation around mental health and the importance of that. You're opening up the conversation around legacy and the importance of that. It was, I think, pivotal and important that we told that story. I'm just grateful that I was able to be a part of telling that story. It was always a dream of mine to play Biff. To get to play Biff Loman on Broadway and to also highlight some of those nuances. What does it mean to break free of the expectations of your father? Or a world that thinks you should be in this kind of a box? What does it mean to find yourself? At what cost does it come to find yourself? Because some will believe that argument that Biff has in the kitchen with his father at the end catapulted his father into suicide. Now, there you go again, we're talking about suicide, right? Suicide within the Black community, no one has shone a light on it. So playing Biff, highlighting those things, highlighting that growth, was very important to me. I wanted young people who come see that and to feel as though they have permission to follow their dreams. To feel as though they have permission to do it in spite of whatever their parents were saying. Whatever anyone wanted them to be. Because you only get one shot. At a certain point, the doors may close, and it gets harder to pry them open. So, yeah, it was pivotal.

Copyright ©2023 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: April 18, 2023. 

Photo #1 © 2023 Jay S. Jacobs/PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved.

Photos # 2 – 7 © 2023 Alan Markfield. Courtesy of CTMG, Inc./Sony Pictures Entertainment. All rights reserved.

[emojeesus]

November mood

Many of my creative friends are doing NaNoWriMo, or some version of it, and writing a lot.

Two years ago I made lofty promises to myself: I would finish my novel's first draft by the end of the year. I'd written snippets since like 2014, but Now It Was Serious.

It did not happen. I did not finish the story, but I did make significat progress. So I renewed the promise last November.

I have toiled at my current novel (and a side project when I get too bored of the same old) non-stop ever since, only having a couple of breaks for a few days when I was absolutely burnt out.

No, I have not finished it. Not even close. I estimate I am about halfway there. This story is a much bigger beast than I anticipated. Or, I find myself writing it deeper than I started out. But I enjoy it.

It has both comforted and frustrated me immensely. Some days it has been the only reason to get out of bed, if only to get my laptop and tuck myself back in with it. I have put in full working days and then some. Some days I have written 4000 words, but more often I have written a 100. Some days I have just sat and stared at it hollowly and ranted to people on Discord.

But it's all part of the process. I have made so much progress. I have learned so much about the craft. I have heard so much advice, from better and more experienced writers, on how it should be done. So many people who have told me not to edit mid-draft. I do that all the time, to catch any inconsistencies early, and also to keep myself familiar with what has already happened.

So many lectures about the importance of having your plot figured out before you start. I never do. It all unfolds as I write, and any other way would bore me out of my mind. If I already know how the story goes, why even bother writing it? My mind just cannot grasp it.

And so on. So many tips that, when I try them out, make me both bored out of my mind and not productive at all.

But also good ones. Like to stand up once in a while. Take a short walk. Go ahead and send that short story to the contest. Talk about your story. And if you feel like vomiting when you sit down to write, get up and do anything else. Come back when you don't find it fucking disgusting. You don't have to be extatic over it, but just:

Don't abuse yourself.

So in that spirit: This November I will not force myself to write a single word.

Anyone in the Nordics should be hibernating this whole month anyway. So I will shift down a gear and give myself this month off. I've earned it dammit.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 65: Question

"Uncle Harry?"

He glanced away from Rose where she was eating the grapes Harry cut in quarters and over at Teddy where he was sitting at the table eating his grilled cheese. "Yeah buddy?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he said as he looked back at the almost 16 month old eating grapes. He still got nervous about her choking.

"Do you like Uncle Draco?"

"Yeah," Harry replied casually, glancing out of the corner of his eye to gauge Teddy's reaction. "Yeah. Uncle Draco and I are good friends."

Teddy rolled his eyes, and Harry couldn't help but wonder how the time had flown by fast enough that he was sitting at a table with a nine year old who now rolled his eye at him. "I mean do you like-like Uncle Draco?"

"Gah bah dih!" Rose shouted, banging her chubby little fists on her high chair tray.

"See, Rose wants to know too," he translated for the baby.

He sighed, "It's complicated, Teddy."

"Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "Uncle Draco says he likes you. Why does it have to be complicated?"

"Uncle Draco said what?" Harry asked, sure he'd misheard.

(Read more below the cut)

"He said that he likes you but he thinks that you don't feel the same."

"Thats-" Harry spluttered, "I-" he started and broke off again, "But he nev-" he huffed, catching a spoon that Rose was trying to hit Max with. "Careful, Rose," he chided gently, "We don't hit the dog."

"Uncle Haarry," Teddy groaned.

"Apparently it's a conversation that Uncle Draco and I need to have," he managed.

"But-"

Harry shook his head, "No buts. If I like Uncle Draco, he should be the first to hear it, don't you think?"

"Fine," Teddy grumbled.

And Harry spent the rest of the day thinking about what he was going to say to Draco at trivia later that night.

-------

"I hate the muggle knowledge category," Draco groaned miserably as he and Harry prepared to answer the eighth round of questions that evening. "You're completely useless at it," he added, "even though you were raised by muggles."

Harry huffed, "Well, it's not like I was allowed to live like a normal muggle." He took another sip of his firewhiskey. He should stop drinking but he was just too nervous.

"What does that even mean?" Draco asked.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head to clear away the memories which somehow served to only bring them further forward in his mind.

"Potter," Draco said, poking his arm, "What does that mean?"

He stood up abruptly, feeling small and afraid, like he'd never be good enough. All of the feelings of loneliness and unworthiness that he'd had as a child rising up like bile. It was all too much all of the sudden and the idea that Draco might actually be interested in him was utterly preposterous. "I have to go."

"What?" Draco said as Harry made for the door. "Harry!" he called.

Harry fumbled with the door handle but finally made it out onto the street, pushing his way through a gaggle of people standing outside the door smoking.

He'd walked for maybe two minutes when he heard a set of feet running up behind him and he turned, body poised to fight.

"Hey," Draco panted. "You didn't pay for your tab, you know."

"Right," Harry said, reaching into his pocket and holding out a handful of galleons to Draco.

"I don't want your money," he said, sounding offended and Harry didn't know what to do with that. "I'm just telling you why it took me so long to catch up."

"Do you like me?" Harry blurted because he needed to know, once and for all.

Draco looked confused, "Harry, we've been friends for like 7 years, of course I like you."

"No," he shook his head, "I mean do you like-like me?"

The other man paled, taking a step back from him and Harry realized that he must be thinking that Harry had run out because he thought Draco liked him.

"Because I really like you," he hastened to add. "I have for ages but I didn't think you could feel the same. How could you feel the same?" Harry whispered, more to himself than Draco. "I'm a mess," he added, "I've got ptsd from the war but I'm also like super messed up from my childhood? And I don't even understand what healthy relationships look like and how to have them," he covered his face with his hands, "I'm just-"

"Harry," Draco interrupted, his hands gently holding Harry's shoulders. "Come here," he murmured, pulling Harry in against him and wrapping him up in his arms.

Harry leaned into him.

"Okay," Draco murmured, "Deep, slow breath with me, yes?"

He nodded and mirrored Draco's breathing, feeling his heart slow as his lungs filled with air.

"There we are," Draco said softly, brushing his hands over Harry's back. "It's alright."

"Sorry," he whispered, making no move to pull away from Draco.

Draco dropped a kiss on his cheek, "There's no need to be." After a beat he asked, "Would you like to come back to mine to talk? I've got some sobriety potions and I can make us some tea."

"Do you have biscuits?" Harry murmured against his skin where he'd tucked his face in Draco's neck.

"I do."

He nodded once and Draco held onto him as he apparated. After they took their sobriety potions and made tea, Draco nodded to the living room.

Harry curled up on one end of the couch and Draco sat on the other, cross-legged and facing Harry. "So," Draco said, and Harry really dreaded the next words now that he wasn't drunk, "Who ratted me out? Was it Weasley?"

"What?"

"Who told you that I like you?"

Harry blinked, "Teddy. But how-"

"I've liked you for six and a half years and people have been telling me that you like me for at least five of them. Clearly someone must have decided to tell you, it's the only thing that could have prompted you to change."

He tilted his head consideringly, "What I said, though," he started, "Well, it's still true, even if I'm less emotional about it now. I have had several relationships flop through no fault of the men and women I've dated. I'm a mess, Draco."

"Do you imagine for even a moment that I'm not?"

Harry huffed a bitter laugh, "You're always so poised and put together. You-"

"I have nightmares three times a week," Draco said matter-of-factly. "I sleep with my wand tucked under my pillow and a dim light in the corner. I see a therapist every other week. My father and I have a very strained relationship because he doesn't approve of me being gay. And," he added, "I haven't had a successful relationship ever."

Harry stared at him for a long moment.

Long enough that Draco started talking again, "I'm a lot. Even on my best days and I would drive you roun-"

Harry interrupted him by leaning across the sofa and kissing him once softly to stop the words coming from his mouth. "You are amazing," he breathed. When he pulled back he said, "If you're okay with me not being perfect, I would love to try."

"Really?" Draco whispered.

Harry nodded, "Really."

And in the end, it was their imperfections that made the other love them all the more.

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

Day 64: Shower | Day 66: Bond

So confession: this was not the fic I started writing for this prompt. But that one is already over 4000 words and it's like halfway done, so it's not making the cut tonight. I think it's actually going to end up being multiple chapters, I'll add a link in here when I've finished it. (I say this to apologize that this one is so rushed!)

[matsbarzal]

Time’s a Ticking || Matthew Tkachuk

Notes: anyways I decided to do matty and I found this long list of soulmate AU prompts so I know what I’m doing tonight yikes. so here’s a lil bit of a nervous/anxious matty even tho he refuses to admit it. hope you enjoy!!! let me know how you like it <3 

Summary: everyone is born with a dwindling time on their wrist. the moment the time reaches zero is when a person meets their other half, the person who makes them whole; their soulmate. 

Word Count: 3k+

10,584. 7 days, 8 hours and 24 minutes. 7 days until he’d meet his other half, the person that’s meant to complete his soul, be his better half, or whatever a soulmate is meant to be. Matthew wasn’t crazy about the idea of soulmates, sure, he was surrounded by people who were madly in love and happy and complete; but he was also surrounded by those people... the one’s whose time stopped, girls and guys who had a permanent marking of time on their wrist that would never move again.

He wouldn’t say he was a pessimistic person, but he had seen so many friends and family fall into a spiral after their soulmate clock stopped ticking, watched as their other half broke them without even meeting them. He wanted to be excited and optimistic but Matthew couldn’t bring himself to feel the same delight that his friends did on his behalf. Anything could happen in this 7 days, 8 hours... and 22 minutes now.

6160 minutes

You could feel the bump of the plane as it touched the ground. This was the one part of flying you hated the most, the anxiety and the bumping as the plane made its way down the runway towards its destination. You knew anything bad was unlikely to happen, but your nerves were on edge. All you could think about was the time on your wrist, the time that kept on ticking. It hadn’t stopped in your entire 21 years of life, and from the looks of it, you were approximately four days away from that happening.

Sighing, you listened to the claps from around you as everyone congratulated the pilots for landing the plane safely. Around you, people stood up and began collecting their belongings, grabbing their bags from the overhead compartments as the chatter continued in the cabin.

You politely smiled at the man beside you as he passed you down your bag, a quick “Thank you” leaving your lips as he gestured for you to walk in front of him towards the exit. 

Originally, you hadn’t had any intention of leaving Alberta for the holiday break, but your parents had practically begged you to come home for the holiday’s, citing the fact you had remained in Lake Louise for the last year and that they had only seen you once since you made the choice to unravel everything you knew by packing a few bags and moving halfway across the country to Alberta to work at some fancy ski resort in the mountains. 

It was originally only meant to be a few months worth of work, waitressing in Lake Louise at a 5-star resort that is, and then time kept going by, and the more and more you fell in love with not only the scenery, but the people. Everyone was happy there, tourists were always excited and polite, everyone just wanted the chance to see the Lake, skate on the Lake, whatever it was. No one was ever unhappy here, and you loved that. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts as the line in front of you continued to move quickly, people eager to get out of the cabin and get back into the fresh air that flowed outside. You could barely contain your giddiness as you stepped off the plane. You could barely believe how much you missed the province, missed your friends, coworkers, you even missed the tourists. Who would’ve thought?

After about 20 minutes of watching the carousal spin and spin and spin, you finally eyed your bright red, Flames red, as a lot of people reminded you, suitcase. Grabbing it, you hauled the bag off of the carousal and onto the ground. You were eager to get to your car, which you had already paid a good 500 dollars worth of parking for, and eager to get the move on the three hour drive across Highway 1 to Lake Louise. 

After four and a half hours of travelling, you knew this three hour drive was going to exhaust you. And with the temperature out in Alberta right now? All you wanted was your bed and a cup of piping warm hot chocolate to end the day.

4590 minutes

“Man, your face is already awful to look at. You really trying to ruin it even more right before you meet your soulmate?”

Before Noah could even think, a wad of tape hit the side of his head while exclamations went up around the room about the choice of target. “Whoops, guess my tape slipped... out of my hand.”

Matthew shrugged his shoulders, an innocent grin on his face as he stood up to grab the tape from beside Noah Hanifin’s locker. 

“No, but seriously, why are you getting into fights with three days left on your wrist? Don’t go and get yourself killed or something, they’d be devastated if they’ve waited this long for your dumb-ass just to have 4000 minutes tattooed on her wrist for the rest of her life.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Matthew ignored his teammates comments, choosing instead to run his finger across the always-changing number on his wrist. 

“It’s not like it matters anyways.” His words were barely above a mumble, but it was enough to spark the attention of his captain, who was quick to tell him to meet him in the trainer’s office after he was done showering and getting the blood that was currently dripping down his face, cleaned.

Obliging on his captain’s orders, he found Gio in the office, a tight smile the only warning that he was about to get ripped apart by the veteran. Gio was one of the lucky ones, he had barely been 16 when his clock finally hit the big 0. It made him an advocate for all the soulmate bullshit, constantly encouraging his teammates to wait it out, be patient, their time would come. 

“Chucky, buddy, we gotta have a chat.”

Quirking his eyebrows at the older man, Matthew nodded, “Well Gio, I kinda figured that one out buddy, unless you pulled me in here to look at my oh so pretty face.” 

“I’m serious. You need to stop with this constant bashing of soulmates and times and shit. I know you don’t like it and you hate the concept of soulmates and whatever, but you’re doing nothing but worrying the younger guys. These kids are constantly terrified their minutes are just going to stop and be etched into their skin.”

Subconsciously running his fingers across the number on his wrist again, 4530 minutes. Wonder what that is in exact time. Shrugging his shoulders, he was quick to apologize to his captain. “Sorry, G. Not trying to scare the kids, just getting a little... I don’t know? Worried? It’s getting too close, I don’t want to get like...  it’s not important, never mind. I’ll stop talking about times in the locker room. Sorry.”

Quickly tightening the tie that was now wrapped around his neck, Matthew raced out of the office before Gio could say something else to him. He eagerly grabbed his phone, wallet, keys and suit jacket before quickly making his way towards the parking garage, the only thing on his mind was of course, you.

2120 minutes

One whole day and just a few hours. You could barely breath as you ran your thumb over the little black number on your wrist. You knew it was inevitable that you’d be meeting your soulmate while working, the moment you looked at the work schedule when you arrived back from home, you knew you’d be stuck working during the time in which you were meant to meet you soulmate. You were giddy, sure. But what if they didn’t like you? What if whoever it was, was snooty, and rude, and didn’t like you for who you were?

“Y/N, you gotta stop thinking about it, babe. You’re gonna get your head stuck in a whirlwind of thoughts. Think about other things! Like... the Calgary Flames.”

Eyeing the blonde beside you, “Tell me Cassidy, why in the world, would I think about the Calgary Flames, instead of thinking about my soulmate?”

Your coworker shrugged her shoulders and gestured to the board behind your head. You had all been notified a day prior that the Calgary Flames had reserved a whole floor of the Chateau for the weekend. With your restaurant being directly in view of the Lake and the Mountains, you were expected to be the main dining spot for the team over their course of the weekend.

“Believe me, Cass, the last thing I want to think about is a bunch of hockey boys who are going to make me miserable the weekend where I’m supposed to be... not miserable.”

She winked at you, a teasing glint in her eyes, “Maybe one of those awful hockey boys has the same number on your wrist. Maybe Noah Hanifin’s your soulmate. God, I’d be so jealous, could you imagine being destined for that beautiful exhibit of a man? God, I’d climb him like a tree.”

Laughing, you wacked her with the towel in your hand as she continued to egg you on, gloating about how beautiful of a specimen Noah Hanifin was, and how she’d do just anything to crawl into bed with that man. Cassidy was always like this, bubbly, happy, positive. Her number had stopped moving 12 years ago, or so she says. She hadn’t been paying attention the day it stopped, the number etching itself into her skin permanently, to never move again. She was never negative about it, always saying that she hoped just the thought of her brought peace to her soulmate in their last moments. 

“Okay okay, enough about the Flames. I doubt it’s even going to end up being any of them, hockey boys and I do not get along. Especially the one’s that are just constantly bothering people, and that’s the entire Flames roster, so... let’s get back to work.”

440 minutes

One thing Matthew was sure of was the fact that he loved everything about the drive to Lake Louise. He wasn’t notorious for being a huge fan of the scenery around him, but something about the drive across Highway 1, the trees, the snow covered mountains, they all just faded together and created this picture in his head. It was hard to describe, there wasn’t anything specific to the picture, it was just joyful, it was happy, it was calm. Jesus, maybe he was just fucking crazy. 

A lot of people always said you feel more calm in the hours leading up to the first time you meet your soulmate. But he sure as hell didn’t feel calm. He was on edge, the scenery around him, albeit, it was beautiful, it was not calming him down. His leg was shaking, his foot tapping the ground beneath him on the bus. He could see Johnny giving him a look every time his shaking leg touched his teammates. He knew the entire team was frustrated with him. Two games straight, two 10 minute fighting majors. 

He was being a pest, constantly egging people on, trying to ignite arguments or fights or just some form of stimuli to get his mind off of the only thing it could stray to. You. He didn’t want to think about whoever the hell you were, he didn’t want to get his hopes up that maybe his clock would actually hit 0, maybe he’d actually meet his better half. Or maybe he'd fall through a crack in Lake Louise and never have to worry about it again... hopefully. 

“If you touch my leg... one more fucking time, I am going to sock you in the fucking face Chucky.”

Immediately pressing his heel into the ground, Matthew mumbled out a quick ‘sorry’ to the teammate beside him as he watched the trees continue to go by outside the bus window. The time was still changing on his wrist, every minute counting down as the minutes passed outside. There was barely any cell service on the drive up, so the only thing that could truly distract him at this rate, was you, and he hated that.

“Soooo... you excited Chucky? It’s gotta be the big day, no?”

If choking a teammate was legal, Matthew would already be wringing Noah Hanifin’s neck. 

“Yeah, delighted.”

“C’mon grumpy pants, you’re literally like what? 6 hours away from meeting the person who’s supposed to complete your soul... and you’re in a foul mood. Did Doughty crawl up your ass and die last night or?”

Grinding his teeth, Matthew tried to bite his tongue, refusing to lash out at his teammate, even though he so desperately wanted to. He wasn’t going to be the cause for a toxic locker room, especially over something as stupid as soulmates. 

It was obvious that something was going on, everyone on the team knew the time on his wrist equalled out to less than a day. Everyone could see how on edge he was slowly getting as the time dwindled down, but no one could figure out why he was getting more and more frustrated, why the excitement wasn’t shining through as the time continued.

“Why the hell aren’t you excited man? This person’s supposed to be the love of your life, and you seem like you couldn’t give two fucks if you meet them or not?”

It was too late, Matthew was exploding before he could even comprehend what he was saying. “It doesn’t fucking matter man, okay? I don’t give a shit about this soulmate bullshit. Everyone’s soulmate is gone one day anyways, what the hell does it matter if you meet them now? I’m gonna be aching at some point because they’re gone and I’m alone. Woohoo, I get to meet them today, woo-fucking-hoo. I could literally not care less, so stop bugging me.”

27 minutes.

It was all around, highly likely, that your soulmate had some form of connection with the Calgary Flames. Their reservation was scheduled for 23 minutes from now... and your wrist had that small number 27 etched on it as it continued to count down. 

“Wow... maybe your soulmate really is Noah Hanifin... I’m sorry for saying I’d climb him like a tree.”

A loud laugh left your throat as you watched a guilty smile form on your co-workers face. “Cass, I highly doubt it’s Noah Hanifin. It’s probably just a coincidence that their reservation time coincides with my meeting my soulmate time.” Cassidy gave you a knowing look as she walked away, a small smile on her face.

You were anxious, you couldn’t deny it. Every second that counted down, you were nervous, what if you weren’t good enough for them? What if they were embarrassed it was you? What if... oh god... what if they hated soulmates? What if they were one of those people who was willing to cut the tie, ignore the call, ignore the connection?

You refused to think about that, instead putting yourself to work, clearing the tables and plates of the previous occupants, you waved off the clearing crew, instead choosing to do it yourself. Anything to get your mind off of it. 

The Flames weren't the only occupants of the Chateau tonight, only taking up about half, you were able to still seat other tourists who were interested in the view tonight. 

That’s how you found yourself, 25 minutes later, your hand on your hip as you interacted with the group of rowdy guys in front of you. They were from Edmonton, and they were absolutely hammered. They were as nice as you could expect them to be, continuously flirting your ears off, as they tried to impress you with their... what was it? Accounting job? You couldn’t remember for the life of you, your mind solely stuck on the small number 1 now etched on your wrist. 

You were roused out of your thoughts at the feeling of a hand touching your waist. “C’mon sweetheart, you’re not even paying attention to us here. Take a shot with us, baby!”

You politely removed the offending wrist, a tight smile now etched on your face. “First, I would ask that you please don’t touch me. Second, I was most definitely listening. You boys want another round of beers, and 6 tequila shots. Unfortunately, I don’t believe the shots are the best idea, nor do I think the beer is, but I’ll definitely get you a glass of water.”

Spinning on your heel, you went to walk away but were stopped by the feeling of a hand tightly gripping your wrist, a small squeak falling from your lips.

“We don’t want water.”

“Please get your hand off of me.”

“Get us what I asked for then, bitch.” 

You were about to retort, a vicious snarl on your lips, but your words were caught in your throat as you watched a fist connect to the cheek of the man in front of you, a gasp leaving your throat.

2 minutes

This had to be a joke. He was apparently two minutes away from meeting his soulmate, and here he was, in an orderly fashioned line as him and his teammates made their way into the restaurant. He could barely breath, his pants felt too tight on his hips, he could feel the sweat seeping through his shirt. Thank god he made the choice to wear black. 

It felt like everyone’s eyes were on his, everyone was wearily watching the number on his wrist go down, as the obvious anxieties began to cloud his every thought, action, move... everything.

He tried to take his mind off of it, observing the restaurant as the team slowly made their way to their designated tables. There were a few other patrons, most of them caught up in their own world. One specific table caught his eye, they were a group of rowdy guys, maybe a few years older than him. 

Quite frankly, they looked like all around assholes. Looked like the guys you’d see from Wolf of Wall Street, and from the looks of it, they were really starting to irritate their waitress. Although, all he could see was your back, your posture was unbelievably straight, your hand on your hip as you inventively listened to the guys in front of you.

Matthew continued to watch you, something inside of him telling him that he just couldn’t look away. He had to keep looking. He watched as you turned your body, ready to walk to wherever your destination in mind was, but he instantly zeroed in on the hand that was now tightly wrapped around your wrist, a violent look on the man’s face.

He wasn’t moving on his own accord now, his feet were basically moving by themselves as they raced towards you.

“Get us what I asked for then, bitch.”

His fist was connecting with the other man’s face before he could even think. He heard the gasp from beside him, he watched the number on his wrist hit 0 the exact moment he looked at you, a look of shock on everyone’s faces.

“Chucky!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m going to call the police you fucking curly-headed fuck.”

He could barely focus on the voices around him. You were here. You were literally right in front of him. Both of your numbers were at 0, he could see it on your wrist. He was literally staring in the eyes of his soulmate.

“Oh my god, you punched one of our guests.” Your voice was like bells to his ear, soft, delicate, everything he wasn’t... but god, you were perfect.

“I’m Matthew, and yes... I uh... I think I did punch one of your guests. I also think you’re my soulmate. Does it count as self-defence... if I punched him in my soulmate’s defence?” 

You laughed, trying to cover it up with your mouth as you watched your manager’s rush towards the now bleeding asshole at the table behind you. 

“I think I like you already, Matthew.”

[twistedtummies2]

Birthday Belly (LeonaXReader)

I wrote this yesterday for my own birthday. I didn’t really go into this with much of a plan, this story is 99% just me freestyling and whipping out some self-indulgent nonsense involving Leona Kingscholar and his appetite. It came out to about 4000 words, which is relatively short for MY stories on here. XD Hopefully you all will enjoy it.

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

Living at the Ramshackle Dorm had, you thought, left you almost impervious to surprises. The 999 Happy Haunts who inhabited the old manor house had tried nearly every trick up their capes to spook you and shock you, and after dealing with so many dark mages for so long – facing demigods and fairy princes along the way – you didn’t think much could startle you. Today, you were going to be proven wrong. You sighed with some relief, removing your obligatory birthday sash and letting it drape over the arm-rest of the sofa as he leaned back and closed your eyes. Back in your homeworld, you had never really been much of a party person. You had never much cared for crowds, even among people you knew well; part of the joy of being one of only two (living) beings who called Ravenswood Manor home was that you were able to find privacy and peace fairly easily. However, despite not being a mage, and despite being so lonely there, your friends and the school itself had gone to a great deal of trouble to provide you with a party. You smiled wearily as you eyed the streamers and other decorations strung about your ground floor rooms. A huge banner reading “Happy Birthday…!” and followed by your name was hung over the fireplace, and piled up next to the spot where you’d installed your television and other such things was a stack of presents you had gotten from all your friends.

Ace had given you a set of playing cards and poker chips, winking as he promised to give you a chance to put them to use. Deuce, meanwhile, had been much more sensible, purchasing some cooking apparel he knew you could put to good use. Riddle Rosehearts, meanwhile, brought you some cherry tarts he and Trey had made together. Cater Diamond also appeared, and had bought a new external drive for your laptop computer. “I would have gotten you a new phone,” Cater had smiled. “But I didn’t think you needed one. Speaking of, BIRTHDAY SELFIE! COME ON OVER HERE…!” Idia hadn’t stayed for the party, but his brother Ortho had been happy to pop in. The two had pitched their cash together to buy you a new game system, along with a new game to play on it. Idia had personally sent a birthday card, as well; according to Ortho, his hands had been shaking so much trying to figure out what to write in it, he thought his brother’s fingers might fall off. All Idia had written in the card was, “Have a nice day,” probably because he had freaked out at the thought of saying anything else. Poor dear. Somebody – you weren’t sure who – had very, VERY wisely remembered to invite Malleus Draconia, who came with Silver. Silver spent most of the party sleeping, but Malleus had been kind enough to bestow a gift of his own, in the form of a leatherbound edition of The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe. Naturally, Kalim had shown up, tugging Jamil along behind him. Each had a different gift to give: Kalim had brought a VERY expensive looking carpet, done in the ornate styling of his homeland. “It’s been in my family for…um…uh…” he had paused to try and count the years on his fingers…and eventually ran out of fingers AND toes to count on. “…A very, very long time! Like…SUPER long! I thought it might look nice in your bedroom or the ballroom or something! It’s, uh…it’s not too much, is it?” Gods bless that Baby Otter. He needed so many hugs. Jamil’s gift had been much more reserved: a mancala game box, which he had presented all while trying not to blush under his black hood. Vil had stopped by for a short while; he’d only stayed briefly, claiming the “decadent atmosphere of your gloomy domicile” would mess up his hairdo. (Go figure.) However, he had kindly brought you a gift in the form of custom-made suit of clothes he had ordered from his own personal tailor: some of the finest and most formal wear you had ever seen in your life. “Now you can actually look halfway presentable, instead of resembling a half-baked potato, next time there’s a big event,” he had smiled, as if he had been doing you a tremendous favor. Well. With clothes like this, you weren’t going to argue or complain. Azul had stopped for a brief “hello and goodbye” visit; he actually wanted to stay longer – Floyd, who had been with him, seemed particularly sad he couldn’t stay and squeeze his favorite “Little Shrimp” half to death all afternoon and evening…and in his case, that phrase was probably literal – but the Mostro Lounge was open that day, and he didn’t want to leave Jade in charge of things alone for TOO long at the office. The octopus man had brought you a bracelet covered in small seashells: simple, but surprisingly sweeter than you had expected. Floyd, meanwhile…he just hugged you. “What’s a better present for Shrimpy than a nice, tight SQUEEZE from their bestest, most favorite eel-person…riiiiiiight?” The safety of your spine and lungs demanded you agree and hug Floyd back. Ruggie and Jack had been among the first to show up. The latter had brought a hastily-wrapped DVD: a movie entitled “The Wolf of Pumpkin Hollow.” “I didn’t get this because I actually care,” he had clarified, looking everywhere but at your face and scratching the back of his white-eared head. “Just…everyone else would have thought it was rude if I didn’t get you something. Not that it matters what they think! Just…didn’t want to have to put up with it.” He was such a puppy. He truly was. Not only was Ruggie one of the first to arrive, he turned out to be THE first to give you your gift: a box of doughnuts. All glazed. “My grandma used to tell me: ‘Ruggie, get people the same kinds of gifts you’d want them to get you.’ Well, I can’t think of much I want more than doughnuts!” he sang out with an innocent smile. “You just wanted to have some to eat yourself, didn’t you?” you couldn’t help but smirk. Ruggie had gasped, seemingly offended…only to eventually ask if he could have some. The four remaining doughnuts – which you had to sneak away while the hyena wasn’t looking – were now on a plate in your fridge. You’d eat them later. Others had come and gone throughout the day; none of them had gifts to bring, but they had been happy to pop in, give well-wishes, and enjoy the party for a while. Now, however, all the guests were gone; even Grim had left, as you had asked him for some alone time that night. He and the gang from Heartslabyul were going to have a sleepover as a result. Despite the smile on your face as you looked over at your gifts, there was a hint of sadness to your expression. The one person whose presence you’d been looking forward to most hadn’t come. You’d asked his dorm-mates if they knew where he was or what he was doing, but none of them told you. Most of them very clearly had no clue…except for Ruggie. You got the feeling he DID know, he just wasn’t telling. Honestly, that didn’t settle your mind much. Your smile faded completely, and you closed your eyes once more, sighing through your nose…this time with a hint of despondency. Had he forgotten it was your birthday? Was he with somebody else right now? Maybe he was sleeping somewhere, like the big, lazy kit he was…some part of you – you couldn’t tell what part – kind of hoped that was all it was. He probably wasn’t hurt or sick…if he had been you’d think Ruggie would have told you… You glanced out the window. Evening was turning into night. You huffed softly through your nostrils, and stretched a bit where you sat. The party had worn you out more than you thought. You shook your head to clear it of your more perturbing thoughts, and began to wonder if you should just get to bed early tonight… A knock came at the door, jolting you to a more attentive state. You stood up from the ouch and headed out through the hall to the foyer. You wondered who it was…had one of the guests left something behind? As you approached the door, you adjusted your pristine white suit – another obligatory item for those celebrating a birthday at Night Raven College – which must have made whoever was on the other side impatient: they knocked again. “One moment, I’m here!” you called out, and opened the door. “Who’s-?” You froze, the word “there” dying before it ever reached your larynx. The first thing your eyes took in was the familiar, dimly-glowing pair of green ones staring back at you, as well as the dark mane and leonine ears and tail that accompanied their owner. A scar was slashed across one of the two eyes. The second thing – and the one that truly made you freeze – was the ENORMOUS, bare belly that was only inches away from you. The skin was tanned and smooth and supple-looking, the organ swollen to the size of a large watermelon, and only slightly less taut. The navel looked like the center of a maelstrom, drawing your attention towards that bloated gut as it let out a deep, burbling rumble…just before a black-clad hand slapped over it, hiding it from sight. At the same time, another hand suddenly scooped itself under your chin…and you found your head being tilted up, your eyes now locking on a pair of perfect-looking, velvety lips…which then parted to reveal a gaping, red mouth, dripping with saliva and framed by two rows of pointed, pearly fangs. You barely had time to take in the view of this glistening, slimy orifice…before your ears rang and your nose crinkled as two words were burped up. Right in your face. “HAAAAPPY…BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP-DAY!” The belch was followed by a light sigh and a chuckle as Leona Kingscholar patted his stomach proudly. It jiggled at his touch. He smirked as he took in your expression: a loopy, flushed look was on your face. You were swaying so much that if he removed his hand from under your chin at that moment, you might have just toppled over. “Hm-hm-hmmm…did you like that?” he purred, smoothly. You nodded dumbly, still smiling a loopy, dazed smile as the sound reverberated in your ears, and your nose tingled from the lingering odor of the lion’s gut gas: a strong, heady, meaty smell that twined through the pockets of your gray matter, practically putting you in a trance for several long seconds. Finally, you found your voice. “…Where have you been?” “Preparing your present,” Leona said, as if that should have been obvious, and gently nudged you back as he entered the house and swaggered past you. With every step, his hips swung, and you found your blush seemed to be permanent as you watched them rock and sway as he strutted towards the living room. You followed him as if a leash had been tied ‘round your neck, and watched as he flopped onto your couch, gut sloshing with every little motion of his form. He was dressed in his usual clothes, but his gut was so massive it caused his mustard-colored shirt to ride up, exposing his belly to the world. The lion demi growled as he reached down; his waistband was still buttoned up, and clearly it was causing him discomfort. His fingers fumbled for the belt buckle…and he frowned as he couldn’t quite get it to cooperate. “Tch. Figures,” he grumbled. “After that entrance…pain in my ass…” The familiar phrase snapped you out of your stupor, and you chuckled, rolling your eyes. You sat down next to your princely boyfriend, and shooed his hands away. He frowned, growling indignantly, but allowed you to fiddle with his buckle, and finally managed to work it off… POPK! ZZZRRRIIIP! GUHBLORLSH! Leona let out a sound between a sigh and a grunt as – the moment the buckle was released – his trouser button gave up the ghost, popping open as the zipper flew down, the sheer weight and pressure of his belly forcing them open. He sighed as his belly poured into his lap like a mass of mocha-colored dough, wobbling as it noisily burbled. “UUUUUUUURRRRRRRROOOOOOOOAAAARRRRRRRP!” he belted out. “Oof…that felt good…” You blushed bright red, helpless to do anything but nod; you were already starting to tremble at so many…APPEALING things happening all at once. Leona smirked anew as he noticed your expression, leaning back a little further against the sofa cushions as his scarred eye flashed with a superior gleam. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” “How much did you eat?” you asked, marveling at the size of his belly as you fingers fidgeted and twitched, looking for something to do. You suddenly felt a little parched… “Mmmmm…not enough,” Leona growled, and grinned wider, revealing his pointed teeth. “I could fit more in there, I’m sure…” He licked his lips in a sultry, almost inviting way. You couldn’t keep yourself from letting out a shaky, shuddering sound as you shivered, a mixture of warmth and cold flickering across your spine. Leona chuckled – his gut bounced with his mirth, and tilted his head back with a sigh. “Ahhhhhh…went to my favorite buffet and helped myself,” he elaborated as he gave his belly a few hearty slaps. “Pure meat, every ounce.” You nodded slowly, dumbly. Leona snorted through his nose, raising an eyebrow as he saw you openly ogle his stomach. “Hmph. Are you just gonna stare at it all night, Herbivore?” he grunted. He waited till you looked up at him before going on: “Go ahead. It’s not gonna rub itself.” Your heartbeat quickened and you smiled widely. Leona grimaced and snarled. “Oi…just rub, don’t gimme those eyes…you look like that brat back home…” You chuckled – it was hard not to giggle, honestly – and gratefully helped yourself to your “present.” Your hands quickly fell over Leona’s bloated gut as he stretched his arms over the back of the couch. You scooted closer, and quivered at the intense warmth of the half-lion’s greedy, globular gut. Your palms and fingers began to lightly run across his girth, stroking his belly, just to get a feel of the texture and temperature. His flesh was silky-smooth, making it so hard to resist just pressing your face against it and nuzzling into his belly… You did resist though. At least for the moment. Instead, your fingers began to knead and massage the belly of your beau, pressing down onto the thick soup you could feel churning away inside his bowels. You prodded experimentally, almost as if trying to distinguish each bit of food from the next…but there was no way you could. Whatever Leona had gobbled up was now little more than a uniform mush being swirled about by his strong stomach muscles. His insides warbled and rumbled, as if in response to your ministrations. Leona sighed, closing his eyes and savoring the way you massaged his distended tanker. In truth, the lazy lion didn’t need much of an excuse to stuff himself…but you didn’t care that much. Whether he did this for himself, or for you, as he claimed, the end result was the same. “Mmmmm…that’s it…keep it up,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t planning on stopping,” you said, more to yourself than him, but he snickered anyway. “Heh heh…good. Prey like you should be happy to have a chance like this,” he said, and playfully patted your cheek, causing your blush to intensify. A spike of ego shot up in you, and you purposefully pressed down harder against his stomach. It let out a HUMONGOUS groan, and Leona’s eyes widened and his cheeks ballooned…before he let out another sloppy, rumbling belch. “BUUUUUUUHHHHHHHUUUUUUUURRRRRRLLLLLLLUUUUUUP! Haaah…oi. Not so rough,” he growled, narrowing his eyes at you, tail lashing and thumping against the sofa cushions. “Sorry,” you smiled innocently. “You had so much hot air in there, it clearly had to be let out.” Leona’s eyes narrowed further. “I could turn you into dust right here and right now,” he said, warningly. “I guess you could,” you said, smoothly, and then traced a finger around the rim of his deep, dark trench of a navel. The effect was instantaneous. Leona tensed up for a second, inhaling sharply through his teeth…then sighed and relaxed, all but melting into his seat, eyes fluttering closed again as he purred louder than ever. You smirked triumphantly, as you stuck your finger into his navel and wiggled it around a bit. “Still want to turn me into dust?” you teased. Leona could only moan. He moaned even louder as you cupped one hand on the underside of his belly: the softest, warmest, most sensitive portion of his abdomen. You gently rubbed your hand against them, and traced your fingers over his sides. You could hear his toes curl in his boots; his tail you could SEE curl into a spiral shape as he bit his lip with pleasure. “I’ll take that as a no,” you observed, a dreamy sort of sigh upon your lips as you were honestly enjoying this just as much as he was, a fact you made clear you when you half-consciously murmured: “You’re so SOFT…” “Mmmm…I’ll be softer once it’s all digested,” Leona mumbled. “Vargas is probably gonna complain…think he’d pester me about that stuff if I ate ‘im?” “I think if you ate Coach Vargas, you’d just get a bellyache,” you said, not wanting to add that someone as egotistical as Leona eating someone as showboating as Vargas probably meant all the weight would to his head… …Cracks like that weren’t funny, and could get you bitten. The second part you didn’t mind as much as one might think, to be fair. …You really needed to see a shrink… Leona just scoffed, unaware of your thoughts as you continued to rub and massage his belly. You gave the side of his belly a few hearty thumps, watching the way his belly shifted and jiggled like a water balloon. His stomach groaned and churned rhythmically, squelches and squeals of liquid being compressed and stirred echoing just beneath the luscious skin of the half-lion prince. It sounded like a huge vat of semi-solid mash being pumped and processed in a factory…a sound some might have considered nauseating, but you just bit your lip, rubbing and kneading more vigorously as you heard pockets of gas being released. As you kneaded and pressed down, Leona would BELCH and BURP periodically. Each was short and low, which only made you rub his gut more vigorously. He gave you a bored sort of look as he realized what you were doing. “Didn’t get enough to drink at your party, did you, you thirsty little Herbivore?” “Not even close,” you responded, without skipping a beat. Leona rolled his eyes, and held up a finger in a “one moment” gesture. He then curled that same finger down, balling that hand into a fist…and pumped his fist against his chest once, twice, thrice…before unleashing a true wall-rattler, which flapped his lips and made him go crosseyed. “GYYYYUUUUUHHHHHEEEEERRRRRWWWOOOOAAAAARRRRRIIIIIPLK!” Leona sighed as the eruption came to an end, and snorted as you squeaked at the sound. “Happy now?” he drawled boredly. “Very,” you peeped, patting his belly thankfully. Leona rolled his eyes as he scratched the side of his gut with his leather-tipped fingers, making it slosh under your palm. You quivered. His lips quirked. “Tch. You’re such a snack,” he muttered. “It’s amazing nobody’s already gobbled you up…” “Just lucky so far, I guess,” you shrugged, and scratched his belly with your own fingers. Leona let out a non-committal rumble…then smirked a bit. “We could fix that, you know,” he purred in a slippery, sly way. You froze, and looked up at him slowly, a little confused and slightly apprehensive. Leona smiled back, eyes half-lidded; the dominant, powerful, but affectionately amused smile that always left you shivering for all the right reasons. Then, one of his his hands lifted, and cupped your cheek. He brushed a thumb against it, and you smiled gently back… …Just before that same hand slid forward, and wrapped around the back of your head. “Here,” he growled, commandingly, as he began to force you downwards. “Listen. Feel.” You didn’t have much choice, and it wasn’t as if you would disobey if you could. You surrendered easily as he eased you down against his belly, pressing your head down and holding it firmly, curling his hand so one of your was right above his navel. You felt your chest flutter as the warmth of his body was now right up against your face, and the deep, thick GRRRROOOOLLLLLLG sounds of his ever-hungry belly echoed in your ear like rolling thunder. You stayed perfectly still; time and place seemed to fade into nothingness. All that mattered was the moment: you were hypnotized by his belly, barely conscious of anything. He started speaking, but it took you a few seconds to realize what he was even saying. “…I’d you’d like it, huh?” were the first words you made out, followed by still more: “I could swallow you alive, Herbivore. You’d slither right down my throat, curl up in my stomach…and never come out. I’d just fall asleep, and let you stay there. It wouldn’t have to hurt: one big burp, and your air would be history. Then, you’d go straight to my hips…my thighs…my ass…even my belly. Every part of me you love most.” He paused, purring as his stomach let out a greedy, longing rumble. “How does that sound for your birthday, Herbivore?” he crooned. “How would you like to spend your birthday – your LAST birthday – turning into more of the body you’re so in love with. To be the snack you’re supposed to be. To spend the rest of eternity as just a part of me.” None of these were spoken as questions. You shivered and let out a whimpering sound – not necessarily one of fear, either – as you heard him lick and smack his lips. He leaned down and sniffed at you, purring in the back of his throat. “Mmmmmmm…I could make that happen. Right here. Right now.” You bit your lip; as his stomach rumbled, you closed your eyes. You could picture yourself inside of there…partially submerged in acid and bubbling goo…embraced on every side by his powerful muscles…hearing him belch with satisfaction above and around you…rubbing over you as you were steadily digestedinside of him… You took longer than most people probably would before speaking. “I know you could,” you said, very softly, then added, “Maybe someday you will.” Leona blinked…then puffed with amusement, his smile growing slightly more affectionate as he ran his fingers through your hair the way a cat might. “Not ready to make this birthday your last, huh?” You opened one eye and carefully shook your head. “If it means next year I could get one as good as this, or better, definitely not,” you responded, without skipping a beat. Leona clucked his tongue, and removed his hand, letting it rest against the back of the sofa. He chuffed as your remained where you were, despite no longer being forced down. “Kinky little morsel,” he mumbled. “Guilty,” you responded in a slightly muffled voice as you freely nuzzled his abdomen, smirking as he purred anew, clearly enjoying it. Leona chuckled, and nudged you, indicating he wanted you to look up at him again. You did…and watched as his cheeks ballooned with gas as he caught a particularly low, gassy burp in his mouth… “HHHHRRRRMMMMLLLLRRRRPH…phoosh.” …Before blowing the residual fumes into your face, almost like a kiss. You nearly fainted dead away. Leona grinned. “Good?” was all he said. “Marry me now.” Leona barked out a laugh and gave your hair a ruffling, then shut his eyes and reclined peacefully once more. “Get back to rubbing, meat,” he growled. “Or I might just swallow you whether you want it or not. Don’t let your gift go to waste.” You smiled and eagerly got back to work, kissing and nuzzling and rubbing his belly worshipfully, without any sign of restraint. Leona’s purring heightened as you pampered his plumpened middle. “Mmmmm…happy birthday, Herbivore,” he growled. “Maybe next year, I’ll add you to my hips…” At the rate things were going…that was starting to sound like a promise more than anything else. If so…you could hardly wait till next year.

 The End

[korissideblog]

ᴴᵉʸ i already apologized to Dante, but I guess I also have to apologize to y’all. So… once again, sorry I did a kick flip so sick it made the tag ill. I’ll be sure to think of you all when I’m living a solitary life as a hermit in the forest who’s mistaken for the ghost of a witch.

uuummmmmmI also finished the jetsam fic last night 👉👈 so here you go bestys <3

@jetsam-kisa

Jetsam knew getting into some sort of activity with Aito would be a mistake. Usually the little creature was up to something malicious, and even if you couldn’t figure it out immediately, at some point something would take a sharp right turn and now she’s tricked you into being his accomplice for whatever his next cruel joke is. Aito hasn’t revealed what this trick will be, but it definitely terrifies him considering that they’re in the kitchen.

“It’s just that Mich’ gave me such a pretty skirt yesterday.” Aito had explained, her wiry tail wagging from side to side. “And both Ikuto and Haru said I should say thank you with a little gift in return!”

And so Jetsam (foolishly) agreed to help Aito make cookies. Aito had found the recipe and ingredients, all she needed help with was execution. Jetsam wasn’t sure if he was stressed about how little he could vet the ingredients, or if he was relieved because he was helping with so little- he couldn’t possibly get in trouble for just making cookies right? Right???

“So we have flour, baking soda… salt right here…” Jetsam mumbled, his usual plumes of smoke going up and dissipating into the air as he read off what ingredients they would need and making sure Aito got the right stuff. Aito sat on the counter nearby, watching Jetsam sort everything out silently. After making sure everything was in place, Jetsam gave Aito the thumbs up and Aito hopped off the counter to come help. “Could you preheat the oven-” Jetsam immediately recognized the fault in leaving Aito alone with a heat source and took it back “ah, no, lemme get the oven, you can start mixing th-” nope! Aito would probably be worse if he was left unsupervised with ingredients that someone would be eating, and took that back as well. “Ok then… I’ll preheat the oven, you can just… just stand there for a second.” he finally settled on, stepping away and quickly setting the oven before looking back to check on Aito and-

And she didn’t seem to be doing much. Just kinda standing around, scrolling through the phone that they were using to look at the instructions. Seeing as it was Aito’s phone, Jetsam didn’t see any reason to panic as he returned to Aito’s side. “Next we have to mix the flour, baking soda, and salt.” Aito said, scrolling up and down the instructional website in boredom. “Sounds easy, lemme get the thingies.” by ‘thingies’ Aito apparently meant measuring tools, and (with a nervous Jetsam’s supervision) measured out the dry ingredients and put them into a bowl.

“Have you started on the report for history?” Jetsam asked, starting to mix the wet ingredients together with a handheld mixer- much too afraid of something motorized being in Aito’s hands to let her help. “I know what I wanna write about, I just haven’t started.”

“Yeah, Haru made me start before we left class.” Aito responded vaguely, strangely not taking the opportunity to lightheartedly complain about her friend.“It's lame, but I’m halfway done.” she shrugged, hopping onto the counter and watching like a cat on a windowsill, her tail even swaying side to side as she watched the ingredients mix. “Now we add the chocolate, right?”

“Roawr”

“Meow?” Aito perked up and looked to the floor of the kitchen, Jetsam not far behind as Aito jumped down from the counter to greet their new guest. “Oh! Look who’s here Jetsam!” Aito smiled, picking up a small black kitten who had wandered into the kitchen. “Oh wait, You’ve never met little Jiji, have you?”

“No?” Jetsam said, not wanting to get in trouble for being seen with a pet in the dorms but… but it was just the smallest little kitten he’s ever seen! And Aito was just bringing him to him! “H-hello there sweetheart.” Jetsam hummed, carefully putting his hand out for the kitten to sniff as he realized that the kitten didn’t seem to have eyes- a terrifying realization when in relation to Aito “Can he see anything?”

“No, I think it was a birth thing though.” Aito said, petting the kitten fondly before putting him down again. “He needs to walk around a bit, get a feel for the space.” she explained as the kitten stood still for a second before realizing that Aito wasn’t going to pick him up again and running off to go explore. If Jiji ran into a few walls, Aito ignored the sound, and so did Jetsam. “I think he got out through my vent, I'll have to close it next time.” Aito shrugged, finding the bag of chocolate chips and opening it.

“Why was the vent open in the first place?” Jetsam asked, worried about Aito’s answer, but deciding that it would be worse not to know.

“Sometimes Haru locks his door so he can destress.” Aito said, pouring the chips into one of the measuring cups. “I need to be able to stop that as quickly as humanly possible.” he explained, not going into detail as Jetsam nodded, not wanting any more details. Aito poured the chips into the mix and let Jetsam mix it for her, again taking her place on the counter to watch.

“You named the cat after the Jiji sticker on my wallet?” Jetsam asked, suddenly realizing how quiet Aito was being (at least compared to the insane amount of talking she normally did) and wanting him to talk again.

“Mhm.” Aito responded, watching the dough spin around in the bowl

“It’s from a show you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I could show you it some time.”

“I’d like that.”

Jetsam could taste the silence in the room as he put the mixer down. He thought he was scared of an over excited Aito, but a deathly silent one was twice as agonizing. He let Aito get the sheet pan and spray it down, but decided to let her play with a small portion of the dough as he quickly divided the rest into even little balls, all spread across the sheet, with a small space for Aito’s.

When he looked up to the girl on the counter, she had her back turned to him as she messed with the dough. Aito felt eyes on his back and looked up, noticing that Jetsam was finished, and held up the plate she was working on.

The cookie dough was formed into a crude little heart shape, rough around the edges, and still needing some work. “It looks good, Aito-kun.” Jetsam said, not sure how well it would turn out in the oven, but also not willing to put Aito down when she looked so contemplative. She turned around and put the plate back down on the counter, as if to let Jetsam see what she was doing.

“You know they found a body…” Aito said, barely above a whisper as she carefully formed the dough “on an Arabian Peninsula…” Jetsam felt his heart beat quicken with nervousness as he tried to hide the larger clouds of smoke billowing from his mouth. “It was an archeological dig and… they think she’s 4000 years old- the bones that is- she was… they think she was 18 when she died.” Good lord- Aito-kun always tells her stories in the worst way possible. “I’m writing my history report on her. Her bones were all messed up- way too thin for her to do much. She was severely disabled and would have needed around the clock care… but… but they also saw that she had… she had a lot of cavities, and her teeth were falling out and it didn’t make sense till…” Aito paused momentarily, as if trying to remember what his hands were doing before he continued the story. “till they realized that she… she just ate too many dates.” He giggled, sharpening the bottom of the heart as best as he could. “They just loved her so much… they loved her to death.” Aito paused again, looking over his handiwork and immediately started poking it again, less out of a want to shape it, and more out of a need to do something with his hands. “They always say survival of the fittest and- and I think they’re right!” He said, her voice rising a bit in volume. “Humanity’s made it this far because we found out that what makes us fit for survival is love and compassion and empathy and community and- and…” Aito just stood there, collecting her thoughts as he tapped a rhythm on the center of the cookie, as if trying to make it beat on its own. “And I like things better when they’re heart shaped.” She finally finished, still tapping the dough, but calming down a bit. “Can we… um”

“We can make them all heartshaped, if you want.” Jetsam offered, pointing to the rest of the cookies. Aito simply nodded and finally removed her hands from the dough, frowning a bit at the messy edges, but not willing to reshape it as she moved it from the plate to sheet pan.

Jetsam showed Aito how to make the dough into a shape that would actually end up as a heart after the oven, and together they finished the sheet, Jetsam slipping in into the oven and turning back to face Aito. Aito still looked tentative, swinging his legs over the side of the counter, but a bit more confident than before. “You said you still needed to start on your report?” Aito asked, and Jetsam nodded. Aito hopped down from the counter. “I’ll be back.”

Jetsam followed Aito to the door of the kitchen, but stayed put as Aito continued down the hall to the dorm rooms. Aito returned a bit later with a paper, pencil, copy of their history book, and a cozy looking blanket. “You should start now. I need a nap.” Aito said shortly, turning away from the kitchen and into the common room. Aito laid Jetsam’s supplies on the adjacent coffee table and let him sit down before wrapping herself in the blanket and laying her head across his lap.

“Is this my copy of the textbook?” Jetsam asked, recognizing some of the graffiti across the well used pages. “This was in my dorm room.”

“Mhm.” Aito hummed, looking over the pages as well.

“My dorm was locked?”

“Yeah,” Aito chuckled, sitting up a bit to explain himself. “But all the doors kinda suck. If you know what you’re doing, you can get into any dorm you want without a key.” He said, flipping a few pages and ignoring the nervousness on Jetsam’s face. “Your door in particular is a bit harder though, if it’s any comfort. You have to point the handle perfectly vertical and knee it really hard. Easy once you get used to it, but I don’t exactly go around telling people these things.” He mumbled, tossing his arms over Jetsam’s legs and resting his head on his arms.

“Thanks?” Jetsam shrugged, mildly uncomfortable with the fact that Aito could just break into his room whenever… maybe he should invest in a deadbolt…

“But what do you plan on writing your report on?” Aito asked, closing his eyes and very clearly not planning to listen to Jetsam’s report. So Jetsam gave a quick summary of his ideas till he was sure that Aito was out cold (luckily she fell asleep quickly) and continued working on his report in silence till the alarm on Aito’s phone went off.

Aito immediately jumped awake at the noise, but grumbled and complained as he turned the alarm off. Aito yawned like a cat and stepped over the couch like it was nothing- and seeing how often she disregarded the proper use of furniture, she probably saw it as such. Jetsam was still sorting his supplies, as well as his (mostly finished!) report when he heard Aito mumble something along the lines of “oh I hate this part” and the sound of running water. Jetsam immediately sprung to the kitchen, only barely making it to the door before Aito reached into the oven with his BARE HANDS and pulled the pan out, before throwing it on the counter and immediately putting her hands into the sink, under the running water. “I hate this I hate ovens I hate heat I hate-“ Aito rambled on and on about hating this and that about the stupid decision he just made, leaving Jetsam in completely stunned confusion.

“Why didn’t you just??? Use the mits???” Jetsam howled, running over to inspect Aito’s reddened hands.

“Mitts? You use those for cold things?” Aito asked, as if Jetsam was the moron here.

“You… they’re called oven mitts, Aito-kun!” Aito started at Jetsam, as if finally putting something together

“Oh…”

“Oh…?”

“Oven mitts are kitchen gloves.” Aito hummed, turning the water off and reaching into the drawer that the mitts were kept in, wincing a bit as his still red hands made contact.

“What?”

“Yeah ah… mama calls them kitchen gloves and… and ours are made of cloth.” Aito explained, pulling out the silicone glove. “I thought… you know, I thought these were two different things.”

And suddenly Jetsam understood why that prehistoric 18 year old was so important. Everyone will always not know something, it’s inevitable. Maybe it was something stupid like what oven mitts were, or something less stupid like living. Nobody knows anything. One day fire may burn cold, or the sun just not rise, or our blood may not pump… and all we could do is be kind, and caring, and compassionate.

“We have to take the cookies off the sheet.” Jetsam advised, patting Aito’s shoulder as she returned the mitt to it’s drawer. “They’ll keep baking if we don’t get them on a cooling rack.”

And so, in a more comfortable silence then before, Jetsam and Aito moved the cookies to the rack, pausing only at the last one, the one Aito had made first. Jetsam was right, the shape didn’t survive too well in the oven, the tops of the heart looking more like a single hill and the bottom having lost it’s point, and yet Aito moved it without hesitation onto the rack.

“I like it.” He said softly, making sure it fit onto the rack with all the rest. “It’s a little messed up, but it’s still heart shaped.”

[kyber-crystal]

department of matchmaking || s.r

summary: in which you’re asked by aunt may to babysit peter while she’s away at a business conference & steve tags along. peter, being the innocent smol bean he is, tries to get you and the Captain together.

words: ~3.1k

warnings: none, just fluff & a little matchmaking spider-man :) and OH steve’s blue jacket heheh. tony’s your dad in this oop cant resist a stark child. shhh CW never happened bc i’m still in denial 

Peter: Aunt May says she has a couple errands to run so she won't be back until later this afternoon. Can you pick me up? School just ended.

You: Of course!

Peter: Ned and I are planning on building the Lego Death Star tonight. I know you're a sucker for building stuff :)

You: You know me so well, kiddo. I'm definitely in. How could I miss out on our weekly date nights?

Peter: You're the best! See you soon

You: See you!

"Where are you going?"

"May's busy, so I gotta go pick Peter up from school," you explained to Steve as you slung your purse over your shoulder and grabbed the keys to your (Tony's) Audi, sliding your sunglasses on. "We're having one of our weekly Friday movie nights, and he and Ned just got a new Lego set that they want me to help construct. You wanna come along?"

"Sure, I don't mind."

You headed outside to the car together, sticking the keys into the ignition as Steve slid in next to you in the passenger's seat. "I hope you don't have anything else planned for the rest of tonight. We might be there for a while...I know we were gonna see that new action movie in theaters tomorrow. I'm sorry."

"Nope, no plans," he smiled, "I'm free for the rest of this weekend. As long as I get to spend time with you, it's okay."

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter a bit at his words. 

But you quickly brushed the thought off, knowing the last thing you were supposed to do was fall for someone after you'd just gotten over a nasty breakup.

Soon enough, you pulled up in front of Midtown High School and saw Peter standing with Ned by the curb. You rolled the window down and called out to them. "Hey, boys. Need a ride?"

"My favorite Avenger! Hi!" Ned greeted as he and Peter got into the backseat, strapping their seatbelts on.

"Ouch, I'm offended," Steve placed a hand over his chest and pretended to look hurt. "I thought I was your favorite?"

"Captain America! It's an honor!" he exclaimed. "I've heard so much about you from Peter!"

"Oh, really? I hope he only told you good things?" the super-soldier chuckled.

"Yup!"

"So, how was school?" you glanced back at the two teenagers from the rearview mirror. "Anything interesting happen?"

"No, except they actually served something edible in the cafeteria for lunch today," Peter rolled his eyes. "Which is a first."

You sighed, placing your hand back on the wheel, "School food isn't the best thing ever."

"So uh, I have a question," Ned spoke up as you headed down the street, "are you and Y/N a...thing? ‘Cause I hear a lot of fans are speculating that the kickass agent and America’s golden boy are dating."

"What? No," you and Steve replied in unison, exchanging a knowing look before bursting into laughter. "No."

"Okay..."

It was mostly quiet for the rest of the car ride back to the apartment. Peter pulled out the keys from his jacket pocket and slid it in the lock, pushing the door open and gesturing for the rest of you to come inside.

"So," he breathed out, setting his backpack down by the front door and dusting his hands off. You sat around the sofa together, glancing at the massive Lego set on the coffee table. "Here it is, in all its glory."

"How many pieces is this?" Steve questioned, looking at it in shock.

"Almost 4000."

A buzzing sound from his phone made Peter look down, swiping a few times before unlocking it and scanning over the new notification.

"May has an overnight business conference and she won't be back until tomorrow evening. She wants you to babysit," he explained as he looked up at you.

"Fine by me," you shrugged. "Cap?"

"Sure, why not."

"But I'm 15 and 8 months! I'm not a baby."

"Well, kiddo, I'm 28 and Tony treats me like a baby even though I’m not a baby anymore. Steve's going on 32, and acts like he's 12."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

"Arguing like a married couple," Peter coughed, and Ned wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Cute."

"For the last time, we're not a thing," you let out an exasperated sigh, but felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you spoke.

Two hours later you were a little over halfway done with building the Death Star, and fatigue was beginning to catch up with you after you neglected your sleep schedule and pulled three all-nighters in a row bingeing Netflix with Sam.

You let out a yawn as you flipped through the instructions pamphlet, stretching your arms up in the air.

"You tired?" Steve asked. You were too tired to respond, simply leaning into him and closing your eyes.

"You can take her to the guest room. Straight down the hall, then turn right," Peter said as he noticed you'd now fallen asleep on him. "We can continue this after dinner."

Steve scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you down the hall, pushing the door to the guest room open with one hand before carefully setting you down on the bed, tucking you in.

"Sleep tight," he whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss your forehead and left.

"Ahem. Now that she's gone," Ned cleared his throat, "time to plan on how we're supposed to get our OTP together!"

"Ned, really-"

"You should ask her out, Cap. I see the way you look at her," Peter raised an eyebrow at him, "I mean, it's clear to everyone how you feel about her, and the way she feels about you. Sam sees it, Mr. Stark sees it, heck, I think May has her suspicions as well because she wouldn't stop talking about how great of a couple you two would be over dinner last night-"

"Look, Peter, I don't think she's ready for a relationship."

"Why not?"

"She just broke up with her boyfriend two months ago. I doubt she'd be willing to date again."

"But you're her best friend! You're literally the perfect man for her!"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not taking advantage of someone when they're vulnerable. That isn't right."

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his feet up against the coffee table, tossing a spare Lego piece up and down in one hand. "Yeah, I totally believe the great Captain America isn't in love with the great Y/N."

"She's my friend. A teammate."

"Friends with benefits!" Ned chimed in. Steve made a face at this. "No, not like that. I mean that as in, you guys do all the things that regular couples do, except you're not officially a couple. And I think that's big enough of an indication that you should get together for real."

"I'm just waiting for the right time."

"AHA!" both boys shouted. "So you are in love with her!"

"Keep it down!" he scolded. "She's asleep!"

"You didn't deny it this time..."

"Fine, whatever. What do you guys want for dinner? I'll go pick it up."

"Pizza."

"If Y/N asks where I am, just tell her I went to go get the food."

"Okay."

As soon as the door shut behind Steve, Peter and Ned's heads immediately whipped over and they faced each other, exchanging evil grins.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ned practically squealed.

"Yeah, I'm thinking what you're thinking!"

"Romantic dinner and movie night setup!" both boys whooped and hollered.

"I'll light the candles and get the napkins. May always keeps a stock of scented ones when Y/N comes over because she loves the smell of cherry blossoms."

"...I'll grab the rose petals and tablecloth."

"Rose petals?"

"Mind if I tear apart the flower on your desk?"

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Also, the regular tall candles are in the cabinet below the sink in the bathroom."

"Yessir."

Twenty minutes later, Steve came back with the pizza in hand, setting the keys on the counter and closing the door, stopping dead in his tracks as he observed the scene before him.

"What is going on?"

"We set up a date night for you two because we know you've been working hard this past week and deserved to relax," Peter explained happily. "So, here you go!"

"Peter," Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I appreciate your effort, but Y/N isn't ready for a relationship and neither one of us has feelings for the other."

"But you guys deserve a break! After working nonstop you should at least rest or something."

"Alright, alright. I'll go get Y/N. You guys set the pizza on the plates for everyone, okay?"

"Got it."

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, then stretched your arms up into the air, skidding to a halt as you observed the sight before you.

“Wh...what’s going on?”

Peter and Ned grinned from where they sat on the couch, paper plates on their laps. “We thought you deserved a nice break, so we set up a little something for you guys!”

“A romantic dinner? Why...”

"It looks pretty and gives off a relaxing mood. Why else?” Peter laughed nervously. “Now eat!”

“Okay...” you started growing suspicious, but didn’t question it, “alright, then.”

You fell into an awkward silence after that, aside from the occasional sound of silverware clinking against plates and drink glasses being set back down on the table. The atmosphere felt heavier than before and you couldn’t help but wonder what it was. 

“So, uh...how have you been holding up?” Steve asked you tentatively. He knew the topic of your ex-boyfriend was still that of a rather sensitive one - you’d come storming through the elevator doors and gulped down half a bottle of vodka (you never drank, so this had everyone genuinely worried), before heading upstairs and taking a forty-five minute shower, then afterwards, proceeded to lock yourself in your room for the rest of the afternoon. 

When you wouldn’t come down for dinner, he had to carry up your food to you and when you refused to eat, he was the one to force-feed you. When you suddenly broke down sobbing when he asked you if you were alright, he was the one who held you in your arms. He was the one who got you out of bed to bring you downstairs for some fresh air and to interact with the others, and not once during the time he was having to take care of you for, did he question any of your behavior. You were hurting and that was all that mattered. If you were hurting, he was hurting, too.

“It’s been a rough eight weeks...” you sighed, rubbing your forehead with one hand as you took a sip of wine. “Could be better, but...I’m alright. I just wish I could’ve seen that coming from the moment I went on that blind date with him.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was confused - you’d never mentioned any details of your relationship, you were a very private person, for that matter. You rarely ever opened up to anyone. “I thought you were...”

“Happy? Hell no, I don’t even know why I stayed,” you scoffed as you took another swing of your drink. “It was so easy to fall into a routine. There was this gaping hole in my heart, and...I needed it to be filled somehow. Then Agent Williams comes along, a seemingly perfect new SHIELD recruit, almost everything a girl could possibly want in a man standing right in front of me...how could I not fall for his façade? I didn’t realize it was doomed from the start until about a week into the relationship...but I held my tongue. I knew if I dared to speak up against him, he’d somehow manage to use my words against me, twist everything I said into a whole new lie...he manipulated me, day after day...yet I still didn’t leave because I genuinely believed he’d change. 

“But I was wrong. I was naïve, I stayed because I was so desperate to experience true happiness that I went as far as to stay with someone I knew would do a number on my mental health in the long run. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I walked into HQs one day to drop stuff of for Coulson, to see Williams on top of someone else...in the gym. In the gym...of all places. I only didn’t blast him because I didn’t want to destroy Fury’s property. So I slapped him and left. That’s it. This whole...fling, or whatever the hell you want to call this shitty relationship, lasted only twenty-six days before everything fell apart. God, I’m so stupid - I should’ve known. I was so stupid, I’m such a horrible person for doing what-”

Steve felt his blood boil with anger. Williams had cheated on you - that’s why you’d broken up. All this time he’d been thinking that you simply fell out of love, or maybe ended it on friendlier terms - when in fact, it was anything but.

Nobody deserved to be treated this way, especially you. I could treat you much better, he thought to himself.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, reaching a hand up to wipe the stray tears that fell from your eyes. Instead of letting his hand fall back at his side right away, he let it linger there for a moment, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. The feeling sent electricity up his fingers. “It’s not your fault. You’re not a bad person...he is.”

“Shit, I think our plan’s backfiring,” Peter hissed into Ned’s ear as they watched the scene unfold from the couch. “What the fuck, Ned!”

“Shh! Hold on, they’re having a really deep conversation. Let them be for a second.”

“I was stupid enough to stay, when he was giving off all the wrong signs...I should’ve listened to Tony and Nat. They knew. They knew from the moment we first got together, but I didn’t listen...”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know any better,” he reassured you, absentmindedly taking your hand in his and rubbing circles across your palm, “you just wanted to be happy. To experience that feeling that came along with being in a relationship. Frankly, I think I would’ve done the same thing.”

“And what makes me feel even worse,” your voice caught in your throat as you spoke, “...were my true intentions of staying. I wanted to be happy, I really did. But I realized I’d never achieve that with someone like him...in a way, I was using him too, I guess. Not for my personal gain or anything, not to boost my social status, like he did...he always made a point of walking around and declaring that he had an Avenger girlfriend. But...”

“But what?”

“I knew if I was in a relationship with someone, that’d prevent me from thinking about being with anyone else. Well...that plan failed...horribly.”

“...What are you saying?”

“Of course, I didn’t figure that out until not long ago...but yeah. The heart wants what it wants...and it didn’t want him.”

“Then who was it?”

Your gaze flickered down to your now-intertwined fingers. You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “...I think you know who it is, Steve.”

“See!” Ned kicked Peter in the shin as he was in the middle of finishing off his second slice, and he winced. “It’s getting saucy!”

“Ow!” 

“I think we both know,” Steve murmured. 

You let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t know why I tried pursuing a relationship that wouldn’t fulfill me in the long run. I should’ve known it was you all along, huh? You know me like the back of your hand. For Odin’s sake, you remembered every detail of my SHIELD file, my favorite color, my exact birth date, everything there is to know about me. It’s always been you-”

“...It broke my heart to see you with someone who wasn’t me,” he said quietly.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like I was meddling in your love life. I know you hate it when people do that.”

“Steve-”

“I knew you weren’t as happy as you let on. I shouldn’t have stayed silent...I should’ve at least said something. I was terrified to speak up, thinking that you wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings-”

“You...you what?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “I’m in love with you.”

Peter let out a squeak. Ned chucked a pillow at him, a giddy look on his face.

“Good news,” you laughed, “because I’m in love with you too.”

“FINALLY!” Ned whooped, unable to contain his excitement for any longer. He and Peter exchanged a fist-bump. “FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY! I can’t believe our ship finally sailed! Though I gotta be honest, I had no idea pizza could bring out people’s true feelings like that.”

“We’re geniuses!” Peter squealed, pulling out his phone.. “Oh, wait until Mr. Stark hears about this!”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Peter, don’t you dare c-”

Too late. A buzzing sound came from your phone, alerting you of a new notification, and you unlocked it to see a text from your father. 

Mr. Stank😡: Took you long enough, honey. I expect a grandchild soon.

Mr. Stank😡: But I’m gonna be honest, I wouldn’t want any other man for you than Capsicle himself.

You let out a loud groan, shoving your phone back into your purse. “Oh, come on.”

A buzzing sound came from Steve’s phone as well, and he took it out of his pocket to take a look. 

Stark: You better not knock her up until after you get married and then leave. I learned that lesson too late. I’m being serious when I’m telling you to treat her right - she hasn’t been the same since her mother walked out all those years ago. You make her happy, though, so I won’t try to intervene.

Stark: But if you hurt her in any way, I’ll break your face. Capiche?

Steve: ...Capiche.

“Ooh! I just got a promotion for telling him about you guys!” Peter clasped his hands together. “I’m joining you on your next group mission!”

“That’s great, Peter!” you congratulated, “but...why would he give you a promotion for...this?”

“Because he’s been waiting for this to happen for the longest time! Oh and also, your food’s getting cold.”

“We could just reheat it. Or...if you guys are still hungry, do you want to go to Olive Garden?” Steve looked over at the two teenage boys. 

“YES.”

“Y/N, what about you?”

“It’s a date,” you winked. You let out a small laugh upon seeing his cheeks flush red.

[dirtyhelen]

The Most Annoying Accidental Co-Worker in the World: The Bucky Barnes Story

AKA 1000 words of not!fic rambly nonsense of how the Bucky and Reader from i've got the girl on my mind (all the time) became slightly antagonistic BFFs.

(This is the backstory I alluded to in my author's note on that post and it turns out all I needed was one (1) request to feel compelled to share it with "the world". The target audience of the following 1000 words is specifically me so please do not feel obligated to read!)

Okay so basically, i've got the girl on my mind (all the time) takes place in a post-CA:TWS canon divergence where Bucky comes home with Steve at the end and they move to Avengers Tower with everyone else like it's 2012.

Except it's less “moving to the Tower” and more Bucky is technically an international criminal and the Tower is the most secure place to keep him while the rest of the team pretends they have no idea where he is and tries to convince the US government he’s not a terrorist. At which point they will be like, “Wow he was here the whole time? Wild!”. (Ignore unimportant things like how The Law works.)

So Bucky is grounded and not allowed to leave the Tower and definitely not allowed to go on missions with the rest of the Avengers. Except Bucky might not know much (including his own name sometimes and dumb shit like what year it is) but he knows this: Steve Rogers Is To Be Protected (And Cannot Protect Himself).

Bucky experiences intense anxiety whenever Steve is away because he can’t stand not knowing if he’s alive or dead, and not being around to watch his back. Steve tries to alleviate this by telling Bucky he's got a whole team of people to protect him, including analysts in the Tower. Bucky's like, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, Steve, you're so dumb--WAIT! Analysts in the Tower?”

So the next time Steve goes on a mission, Bucky breaks out of Steve’s floor (which he’s known how to do since the first week he got there and he’s gonna have a word with Stark Jr. after he’s done exploiting his security failings) and finds his way to the analysts’ offices.

They all know about Bucky’s existence because they hear the Avengers talking over comms and Steve is obsessed with Bucky and won’t shut the fuck up about him. They’re mostly ex-SHIELD and they’ve been sworn to secrecy by ironclad NDAs that basically promise to drone strike them and everyone they love if they even breath a word of top-secret shit so hiding a maybe-terrorist is really just a regular Tuesday.

Picture the Winter Soldier wearing his Murder Face and Captain America pajama pants (Nat thought it was funny) going door-to-door to figure out which analyst is on the current mission until he finds You.

He Murder Struts (you know the one) into your office, hauls a chair around your desk so he can sit next to you, and does a finger-to-his-lips shhh motion all while you just sit there staring at him, cup of coffee halfway to your mouth while the Avengers babble in your ear.

That first mission you’re too shit-scared to do anything (except your job, very nervously) but you seem to pass the test because when the mission is over and the Avengers have disconnected comms, Bucky looks at you, nods, and leaves your office. (As soon as he’s gone everyone on your floor piles in to your office to ask what the fuck just happened. You have no idea.)

And thus begins Accidental Co-Worker Bucky "The Winter Soldier" Barnes.

You get comfortable with each other very quickly after that because it’s hard not to get comfortable around someone when you spend several hours every week or so sitting inches apart in a confined space, under high-pressure situations.

You become so comfortable around him, in fact, that any fear you once had of the fearsome Winter Soldier becomes pure, unadulterated annoyance instead.

Bucky doesn’t always agree with your calls, and he makes it very clear when that happens.

(This is how the Avengers finally figure out Bucky's been listening in on missions. Mid-mission Bucky tries to wrestle your mouse out of your hand without breaking your hand (or the mouse) and you forget to mute yourself when you shout, “Bucky, if you don't fuck off I SWEAR TO GOD.”)

He also frequently steals your coffee (sometimes right out of your hand) and one time you unlocked your office door and turned on the light to find him sitting behind your desk and it scared the shit out of you and he laughed when you screamed.

At first, he’d leave as soon as the mission was wrapped, with not even a single word thrown in your direction. But as time goes on, he starts to stick around after, since the Avengers still have to fly back from wherever they’ve been. Then, when the secret’s out, he just comes by your office whenever he’s bored, or you hang out at his and Steve’s apartment when you’re off.

It’s during these times that you start to talk to each other and get to know each other.

You talk about Steve, and movies, and music, and Steve, and the cute girl in Accounting you have a crush on, and the best way to break someone’s neck (“The way Steve did it on that last mission was totally wrong, doll, that’s why he needs me around!”), and how sad you are that the cute girl in Accounting cheated on you (“You want a practical demonstration on that neck-breaking technique?”). You introduce Bucky to Naruto because Naruto reminds you of Steve and Bucky becomes obsessed. His favourite character is Hinata.

(Yes, I’m watching Naruto right now and yes, I’m projecting my favourite character onto Bucky, what about it?)

And then somehow months have gone by and you’re best friends now.

(Headcanon—of my own fanfiction so I guess just “canon?”—that Bucky remembers having little sisters and this is part of why he is naturally just the Most Annoying to you but also super protective. 

He may or may not have broken into Accounting Girl’s house and stolen literally all of her shoes because she broke your heart, but also one time he spent an entire meeting throwing tiny paper balls at you when no one was looking.)

And then Bucky’s name is cleared and he’s allowed to go on missions, so you get less of his backseat driving, and for a minute you kind of think maybe you won’t be friends anymore but you’re dead wrong because Bucky is a ride and/or die bitch and you’re besties for life now.

Plus he still makes sure to sit in on any missions Steve is on without him (which basically only happens when Bucky is injured). 

And there you have it! 1000 words of rambly backstory for a 4000-word fic that isn’t even about Bucky because I wrote like three lines of dialogue between him and the Reader and became obsessed with a non-existent fictional relationship of my own creation.

[sentient-stove]

Okay, I know nobody asked, but since that 200k word fanfic for Rise of the Guardians was the first ever fanfic I wrote, I remember the plot, so I’m going to tell you about it.

*buckles you into a chair*

And you’re gonna listen.  *SPOILER WARNINGS, DUH*

Oh, let me tell you her powers first:

Shadow travel like Pitch, she can control the nightmares, but she has to be in constant contact with them, she can create weapons out of pure and corrupted sand, Sandman’s sleep dust doesn’t work on her and she can turn invisible to the Guardians as well.  other than that, she’s pretty low power wise compared to the others.  Like, she has a lot, but they’re all pretty draining.

...

So, the plot started in a flashback scene in Egypt, around the time that the pyramids were being built.

Our main character, I don’t remember her name, sits up and we see that she’s almost completely covered in sand.  She doesn’t know how she got there, her name or who she is as a person.  So she stumbles to her feet, dusts herself off and starts walking.  People are ignoring her (duh)  and when she finally makes it to a small watering trough, she looks into the water to see that her cornrows are pure white, one of her eyes is gold and the other is a black.  Other than that, she looks like how a 18 or so Egyptian girl would look at the time.  

anyway, she looks up to see the moon and someone walks through while she’s distracted.  The walking through her startles her, she stumbles back, falls through a shadow and is gone.

Then there’s like a montage of all the other guardians becoming guardians, and she’s always either nearby or a slight trigger to it- like with Jack Frost’s, she’s the reason why the ice started cracking, and that’s why he fell in, because there were three people on the ice that day, even though it only looked like two.

Final jump to the events in Rise of the Guardians.  She’s changed outfits by now and is wearing black jeans, a black bomber jacket and lots of gold jewelry.  She’s chasing one of the nightmare’s in the same town that Jack is in (She likes keeping tabs on him and Sandman since those two move around the most and it’s more interesting than constantly fucking with the Yeti).  Anyway, over the course of this time, it’s clear that she doesn’t use her shadow traveling and so the nightmare gets away.  

So she’s upset about the nightmare getting away, but before she can really do anything, she hears a yell, and looks to see that in the alley below her, the Easter Bunny is wig snatching Jack Frost (like how in the movie)  and right before the snow globe portal closes, she slips through invisibly.  She gets out of the way before anyone can see where she is and ends up shadow hopping to sit on the globe and watch shit go down.

Anyway, that scene happens, she accidentally outs herself as being there, it’s implied that she has bad blood with the Sandman, Jack Frost has never met her, Tooth Fairy just knows of her as like a cryptid and she’s halfway friends with Easter Bunny.

Anyway, Santa takes Jack to go have the talk (if you know, you know) and the other three guardians are like: “bitch, you need to go.”   And she’s like: ‘fuck no, im staying, this is the most interesting shit’s been in years.’

they try to subdue her, can’t lmao and so they get stuck with her as like a weird protector of the guardians.

So while this is going down, the Tooth Palace attack happens and she tags along, helping take out a few nightmares and she actually rides one until the Easter Bunny takes it out on accident and she ends up landing on a different level of the palace than the main guardians + Jack.

She hears the whole convo from down there and she also starts to see the crumbling from her vantage point and it looks like the foundation itself of the Tooth Palace is corroding.

That all happens, including the scene where Jack is like: “you shitheads had my memories the whole time?”   

She’s the first one to pipe up and be like:  ‘It’s chill, I don’t have memories either, and look at me, 4000 years strong and I’m still not a Guardian.”

Whoop, there it is.

Teeth collecting montage, not much changes, except for the room scene before Sandman’s death, where it’s her, sandman and jack that are still awake.  She stays behind to wake everyone up, not realizing that the snowglobe slipped out of Santa’s pocket and rolled into the hallway...

She wakes them up, they all go out in time to do that cool fight scene and she watches sandman’s death from a closer point because she was shadow traveling through the nightmares, trying to get there in time.  She doesn’t and she almost gets KO’d by Jack Frost when he kills all the nightmares.

Funeral, once again, not much changes, although she has to take up a temporary role as the Sandman due to her powers being a weird cross of Sandman’s and Pitch’s.

The next part is as the Warren (Easter Bunny’s headquarters)  and she volunteers to go scout the tunnels ahead while everyone else is getting the eggs ready.   She gets mixed up and accidentally runs through a wall, landing in Pitch’s lair.  

She doesn’t see the lil tooth fairies, because of her location, but Pitch taunts her with her fears and shows her a canopic jar made of corrupted sand.  He then explains that she was supposed to be the Sandman, and she was, for many years before she fought him in the desert, got half corrupted and Pitch stole her memories and name as a trophy.  That rightfully pisses her off and she almost KO’s him right then and there if it weren’t for Jack Frost showing up and Pitch going off to torment him while she runs around trying to get out.

She literally runs into Jack Frost, grabs him and shadow travels them out.  It weakens her, and she tells him to go and warn the other’s while she recoups. In reality, she kinda just passes out in the tunnel and by the time she wakes up, Jack Frost is gone, the Big Three thought she got offed like Sandman and so it’s an awkward funeral walk in moment.

She yells at them for being dumbasses, watches Easter Bunny shrink and is like: “Oh fuck, we need to figure something out because I now have personal beef with Pitch and you guys are on the verge of collapse.”

Pitch comes for his big victory, everyone realizes that Jamie won’t give up like the absolute piece of shit he is and so while the Big Three go to go save him, she sticks back and has a brief one on one fight with Pitch to stall, she almost wins, but gets hit by some blowback of her own powers and so Pitch runs and she has to follow, making her show up to the battle a bit after Jamie turns the first nightmare into pure sand.

There’s the fight scene, all the kids can see the Guardians, but not her because there’s no name to believe in, ergo she does not exist.  

There’s this one moment in the film where Pitch rises up behind Jack Frost in the final battle, fully about to take him out with the scythe, but Sandman comes in time and saves him.

Here, our main character pushes Jack out of the way and takes the blow instead.  The second the scythe touches her, she’s gone, destroyed.  The Big Three and Jack Frost are upset and Pitch shows off the canopic jar to them, bragging and THAT’s when Sandman comes back.  Pitch loses control of the jar, Jack catches it and Santa takes it from him to keep it safe.

Once all of that is done and Jack Frost is a Guardian, etc, it goes to the last scene, where they’re having an actual funeral for her with the jar.  The funeral ends, Santa places the jar on a shelf and everyone walks away.  Except for Jack Frost and the Sandman.

Jack turns to Sandman is like: “She was cool.”

Sandman makes like the opening a jar motion and Jack Frost is kinda confused, but he realizes that since the jar is made of corrupted sand, Sandman can’t open it, but for some reason, he wants him to.

So he takes the jar and pops it open.  Inside there’s a single slip of papyrus.  Jack Frost grabs it, looks at the words on it, which have somehow shifted from their original hieroglyphs to English.

He reads the word outloud.

and from behind him and Sandman, a familiar voice says: “Took you long enough.”

~THE END~

I hope you enjoyed lmao, I wrote the original fic when I was a freshman in high school and while all my friends were dating, I was writing fanfic about a character that gave no fucks and was just there for the ride.  She didn’t even have a love interest, just a close platonic relationship with everyone by the end.

and yes the fic was stolen.  I even remember the girl’s name: Clair Deg** (im not trying to doxx her..)

[thegamercollective]

7 Best Star Wars Video Game Ideas

Star Wars! You know it, I know it. It’s pretty great, right? Whether it’s the attacking clones or the returning Jedi there’s something for everyone in the vast Star Wars universe. But when it comes to video games the property seems largely underserved; as we pass the halfway point of EA’s ten year deal with Disney the opportunity for big, exciting AAA Star Wars experiences feels squandered, with only a few mobile titles and two tepidly received Battlefront’s to show for it.

True, before the deal there were a number of excellent games from various developers like Knights Of The Old Republic and The Force Unleashed. But it would be great to see new titles with the same level of creativity with the technology and principles of the industry today. Twitch streaming equipment for beginners.

So without further ado, I present to you7 Best Star Wars Video Game Ideas!

7. Star Wars: Bounty Hunter Extraordinaire BEST STAR WARS GAME IDEAS

This is a bit of a safe one, but for good reason. Borrow the open-space jet-setting elements of No Man’s Sky, Star Citizen and Beyond Good and Evil 2 with an emphasis on tracking down and eliminating bounties like in The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt or Assassin’s Creed and you’re in for one hell of a time! The original concept for Prey 2 was similar to this, with the player running around a Blade Runner-esque future city hunting down criminal aliens.

Of course, the concept of a specifically Star Wars Bounty Hunter game has been in development for a long, LONG time, what with the cancelled Star Wars 1313 back in the LucasArts days and what is currently in development at Visceral Games. Even if it isn’t the most original idea it’s still an exciting one with a bantha tank-load of potential. Pink gaming chair under 100.

6. Rome Total Star War BEST STAR WARS GAME IDEAS

The age of Real-Time Strategy games may have past its prime, but a handful of titles carry the torch for this corner of the galaxy. The Starcraft and Halo Wars franchises have elevated the genre from the days of Age Of Empires and – what do you know – past Star Wars RTS titles. Now would be the perfect time to return to that galaxy far, far away with a platoon of clones and a squadron of starfighters at your command.

This game could easily take cues from The Lord Of The Rings: Battle For Middle Earth RTS series, with the huge roster of hero characters swimming around the Star Wars canon. If this game lets me deploy Max Rebo to stun my enemies with the dolcet sounds of his red ball jett organ, it’s got my preorder. Corner gaming desk with lights.

5. Something something womp rats BEST STAR WARS GAME IDEAS

Imagine, if you will, a free roam survival game set on an iconic Star Wars planet, in which you must battle the elements and fierce creatures to provide for your community. That’s right, I’m talking about Meerkat Manor: Tatooine Edition.

Few games throw you in the body of a wild creature to do what wild creatures do. Star Wars is full of weird animals, so what better universe to pick from? I can already picture myself sneaking around profogg burrows as a lone womp rat hunting for unsuspecting prey, or migrating through a sandstorm with a family of babies clinging to my belly.

Not that it couldn’t be any other species; imagine hunting with a pack of ewoks or flying with a flock of porgs. You can’t tell me this isn’t something you’d play.

4. Knights Of The Old Republic, Again BEST STAR WARS GAME IDEAS

Okay, maybe not specifically The Old Republic era but I’d love to see another Force-focused RPG in the Star Wars galaxy. The KOTOR games are some of the best RPGs around offering you the chance to explore your inner Force user, be you a benevolent Jedi Master or a ruthless Sith Lord. This classic formula with updated visuals and mechanics would be a sight to behold, and, if done by OG KOTOR developers and RPG specialists Bioware, it could be a major upswing for the downtrodden studio.

Jedi abilities could also be expanded in a more modern way; instead of jogging down hallways traversal could easily take cues from the likes of Prototype or Infamous. Combat could also take some inspiration from the Batman: Arkham series and The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, with combo-based saberplay mixed in with Force abilities and weapon items.

3. Galactic Podracing Championship BEST STAR WARS GAME IDEAS

Now THIS is podracing!

It might sound like a dumb idea, but imagine a deadly, high speed action racing game set on race tracks from all across the galaxy!

White knuckle chicanes through the ice caves of Hoth, glorious drifts along the beaches of Scarif, high octane dragging through the volcanic death traps of Mustafar or death-defying traffic dodging through the busy underworld of Coruscant. Throw in dynamic vehicle combat, environmental hazards and opportunities, forked paths and split-screen multiplayer and Disney would have themselves a grand prix winner.

Think of the possibilities! Be it Mario Kart arcade racing or Forza Horizon realism, this concept is nothing but supercharged, Force-injected, illegally energized podracer fuel ready to be shot straight through your visual sensors and into your brain!

Actually this game was made back in the Nintendo 64 days, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be reconceptualized for the modern gaming scene!

2. Mandalorian Warfighter BEST STAR WARS GAME IDEAS

For those of you who don’t regularly scour Wookieepedia, The Mandalorian Wars took place around 4000 years before A New Hope between the Galactic Republic and the warriors of Mandalor. The conflict had a significant impact upon the galaxy and has been directly referenced in both Star Wars Legends and official canon, so for it to feature in a new piece of Star Wars media isn’t completely out of the question.

Okay, history lesson over.

I would love to see this period tackled in the style of Ryse: Son of Rome, Brothers In Arms or Star Wars: Republic Commando, with a small squad of soldiers (either Mandalorian, Republic or Jedi) at your command. The added need to look after your men, making sure they’re fully stocked on weapons, ammunition and survival supplies, while helping them cope with the mental trauma of war (ala Darkest Dungeon) would add a much needed layer of emotional attachment. With brutal violence and decisions to make similar to those of Spec Ops: The Line I think this could be an extremely exciting title that would shed some canonical light on an era of Star Wars currently left to speculation.

1. For Honor, but Star Wars BEST STAR WARS GAME IDEAS

I think this one speaks for itself, but allow me to elaborate anyway.

The one big problem that I have with lightsaber combat in Star Wars games is that it never feels like you’re in as much control of your blade as a real Jedi. You’re either smashing an attack button to trigger pre-designed strikes and combos or prescribing a series of attacks from a list of abilities, just to watch them execute automatically. There’s so much room to elaborate on the various forms and styles of lightsaber combat with intuitive, malleable controls like those in Ubisoft’s For Honor.

Of course, I don’t just mean battle scenarios. A deep and interesting story about the Jedi and Sith with the significance of the lightsaber itself a thematic focus and some light RPG elements (character customization, a morality system and ability/lightsaber upgrades) would help tie the whole package together.

Imagine charging down a hillside battlefield as a powerful Sith Lord, lightsaber at the ready, when a Jedi Knight appears before you. As the battle rages on around you you analyse and deconstruct the enemy’s stance and form and change yours for to optimize your strategy. You hold your blade out, moving it to block the oncoming attacks waiting for the perfect time to strike. With bursts of lightning and other force abilities you bring your opponent to their knees and execute a brutal, glorious victory. In the words of Anakin Skywalker, “this is where the fun begins.”

[theres-a-goldensky]

List of My Fic - 2020

Am I 17 days late? Why, yes. I am. But here is a list of all the fic I wrote in 2020, going chronologically, plus some superlatives as I look back on last year.

Total stories written: 18

Total words written: 100,130

SUPERLATIVES:

Favorite fic I wrote in 2020: Dream On (Win/Team)

Least favorite fic I wrote: Sorry A Thousand Times (Fighter/Tutor)

Story I think is the most underrated: Jumping Off the Deep End (Richie/Eddie)

Favorite moment that I wrote:  

“Fuck this,” Eddie said just as the elevator doors opened. He jumped in and pressed the button to close the doors again.

“Oh, no way,” Richie said and hopped in with him. When Eddie tried to get back out, Richie grabbed his suit jacket and held on. “Nope, not a chance.”

The others stood in the lobby staring at the two of them.

“Stanley, your friends,” Patty said as the doors slid shut.

“Believe me, honey, I know,” Stan answered.

- Fake it ‘Til You Make it

Favorite sex scene that I wrote: 

Kit’s first time giving a blowjob, By Myself With You

It turned out that watching Kit pace naked around his dorm room while he talked himself through giving Ming a blow job for the first time was so entertaining that actually getting his cock sucked was almost a secondary benefit.

Ming laid equally naked in the middle of Kit’s bed, his hands laced behind his head, and enjoyed the show. He could see his very smart boyfriend using his very big brain to come up with the best course of action. Knowing him the way he did, Ming had no doubt that when Kit said he’d done research, he meant both the fun porn type and the boring, informational type. Ming hoped there were flashcards involved.

Favorite pairing dynamic to write: Oblivious Meng Shao Fei and jealous, protective Tang Yi - I did some variation of that trope in all three of my HIStory3: Trapped fics.

Click through for a list of all 18 stories in 7 fandoms.

WAITING FOR A SIGN Fandom: IT the movies Pairing: Richie/Eddie Rating: Explicit Length: 6100 words Summary: Richie got tall. And broad. He had these wide shoulders and big hands that he’d gesture with emphatically when making some dumb joke about fucking Eddie’s dead mother. At one point, he poured Eddie a finger of Jameson and when Eddie tried to wave it off, Richie took hold of his wrist with one hand and pressed the glass into Eddie’s open palm with the other.

Eddie took a long sip as he had two equally shocking and mortifying thoughts in quick succession. The first was I want his hand around my dick, followed by holy fuck, I’m in love with this dirty asshole.

FAKE IT ‘TIL YOU MAKE IT  Fandom: IT the movies Pairing: Richie/Eddie Rating: Explicit  Length: ~21,000 words Summary: “Then that’s it? You staged some pictures and now it’s done?” Eddie asked. 

“I wish,” Richie sighed. “This was just a test balloon to see how it goes over. If people react well, then we’re gonna make it official.”

“Official?” Eddie said faintly.

“You know what I mean. An official fake relationship. Artificially in love in that grand Hollywood tradition.”

SORRY A THOUSAND TIMES

Fandom: Why R U? the series Pairing: Fighter/Tutor Rating: Explicit Length: 3200 words Summary: The ride down to the beach had been pleasant enough, even if Tutor’s heart twisted every time his two friends discreetly traded shy smiles during lulls in the conversation. But Tutor made his choice, and he would have to live with it from now on. Whenever it felt overwhelming, whenever Tutor felt his fingers itching to pick up his phone and text Fight to tell him everything, he reminded himself why he was doing this in the first place. Tutor knew how important family was, and he wouldn’t be able to stand it if he ruined Fight’s relationship with his father.

JUMPING OFF THE DEEP END

Fandom: IT the movies Pairing: Richie/Eddie Rating: Teen Length: 7500 words Summary: He didn’t know what he expected to see when he barged into the room, but Eddie hooked up to a thousand beeping machines and smiling brightly at him wasn’t it. Richie skidded to a stop in the doorway, nearly causing a pile up behind him. His breath caught inside his chest at the sight of Eddie, his hair a riotous mess and his doe eyes wide and glassy. 

“Hey, guys,” Eddie said when he saw them. There was a nurse tinkering with one of the machines beside him.

They ignored her and huddled around Eddie’s bed. Richie stood near the back corner and drank in the sight of him. He squeezed his hands together and bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crying. Again. Jesus.

DREAM ON SERIES

Fandom: Until We Meet Again Pairing: Win/Team Rating: Explicit Length: 13,000 words over 3 stories Summary: “Team and Win, you’re in room 355,” Dean said.

Team rolled his eyes. “Why did I get stuck with you?” he hissed.

“Because I’m your senior, and you have to do what I say,” Win replied. Dream On Dream Team Dream Life

BY MYSELF WITH YOU

Fandom: 2Moons the series Pairing: Ming/Kit Rating: Explicit Length: 6100 words Summary: Oh, Kit,' Ming thought, hopelessly fond. This boy was going to ruin him.

THE MISSING PIECE

Fandom: HIStory3: Trapped Pairing: Meng Shao Fei/Tang Yi Rating: Teen Length: 4000 words Summary: “Tang Yi, I thought you didn’t like Coke,” Shao Fei asked. He gestured with the bottle and took a long sip.

Tang Yi barely glanced up from his work. “I don’t,” he replied.

“Then why is your refrigerator full of it?” Shao Fei pressed. When Tang Yi didn’t respond, Shao Fei shook his head. “What a waste of money, to buy something that you won’t even drink. Good thing I’m here.”

WHO YOU WANT ME TO BE

Fandom: HIStory3: Trapped Pairing: Meng Shao Fei/Tang Yi and Jack/Zhao Zi Rating: Mature Length: 10,300 words Summary: “You’re finally getting your wish. I’m leaving you alone.” Shao Fei waved a finger in his face. “But don’t get too excited. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“You’re going to help them look for whoever’s murdered those men,” Tang Yi surmised.

“A serial killer here in New Taipei City,” Shao Fei said. “It’s my duty.”

“Your duty,” Tang Yi replied mockingly. “They’re using you as bait.”

YOU CAN’T PLAY A PLAYER

Fandom: The Untamed Pairing: Jin Guangyao/Nie Huaisang Rating: Explicit Length: 1800 words Summary: If it wasn’t about his own amusement or pleasure, Nie Huaisang had no interest in it. Politics flew right over his head, waved away by the fluttering of one of his ever-present painted fans. That suited Meng Yao perfectly, as did the fact that he was obviously a cut-sleeve.

IN VINO VERITAS

Fandom: The Untamed Pairing: Lan Wangji / Wei Wuxian Rating: Teen Length: 5000 words Summary: Time stopped. Everything stopped. Wei Wuxian’s heart stopped. Slowly, he turned around to face Nie Huaisang.

“Lan Zhan is betrothed?” he asked carefully. 

Nie Huaisang paused with the bottle halfway to his lips. “Yes?” he said, sounding confused. “You must know that. Lan Qiren negotiated it himself.”

WEI WUXIAN VS. THE FEARSOME SUPER PANDA!!

Fandom: The Untamed Pairing: Gen Rating: Gen Length: 1300 words Summary: Wei Wuxian faces his most dangerous foe yet - the fearsome super panda.

MY BEST FRIEND Fandom: HIStory2: Right or Wrong Pairing: gen, Yijie/Shengzhe, Yijie + Shengzhe + YoYo Rating: gen Length: ~1700 words Summary: Even after over two years, Shengzhe is still uncomfortable around other parents.

FIVE YEARS LATER, THE WAY THINGS SHOULD HAVE BEEN

Fandom: HIStory3: Make Our Days Count Pairing: Xiang Haoting/Yu Xigu Rating: Mature Length: ~3400 words Summary: Yu Xigu isn’t at lecture, and the undergrads are worried. 

Yu Xigu rubbed his nose with the back of his hand sheepishly - so cute! How is he so cute?! - and said, “I wanted to get some work done.”

“You’re sick,” the guy replied. He placed one giant hand on Yu Xigu’s forehead and the corners of his mouth turned down. “You’ve got a fever.”

THE WAY TO A MAN’S HEART

Fandom: HIStory3: Trapped Pairing:  Tang Yi/Shao Fei (Jack/Zhao Zi) Rating: Teen Length: ~2000 words Summary: A new food truck moves in near the police station.

Tang Yi grabbed the bun and took a bite. It was incredible. “Well?” Shao Fei asked. Tang Yi shrugged and passed back the half-eaten bun. “It’s ok,” he lied.

MISPLACE MY HEART

Fandom: Until We Meet Again Pairing: Win/Team Rating: Mature Length: ~4000 words Summary: Team turned back to face him, and Win curled both hands around either side of Team’s jaw, kissing him softly before pulling back and gazing at him with a small, satisfied grin.

“Hia,” Team began, just as Win said, “I’ve gotta go.”

Team closed his mouth on the rest of the words, swallowing them down along with his disappointment.

SO ANNOYING  Fandom: Until We Meet Again Pairing: Win/Team Rating: Mature Length: ~9700 words Summary: Team deals with some very unwanted attention at a swim meet and some very wanted attention from Win. (TW: brief, non-graphic sexual harassment)

[eggs3123]

bet you weren’t expecting my longest rant to be about a single topic

so i’m watching that smartphone isekai. and i have so many problems with it after only two episodes. not like the art style or the characters cuz honestly the characters so far seem pretty okay. but the thing that bugs me the most is just how fucking carefree everyone is. like when this dude dies god’s like “oh shit sorry dude i hit you with lightning on accident, you good” and he’s just like “yeah ig” and god’s like “I would’ve thought you’d be more upset over you dying” and he’s just kinda like “yeah ig”. So as a way of apologizing god sends him into another world with his smartphone :0. and this is like the first example of deus ex machina we get. cuz some random merchant who just happened to be passing by is like “YO DUDE SELL ME YOUR CLOTHES” and he’s just like “that’s a bit weird bro but ok.” and so he sells all his clothes to this dude and in return he gets a new set of clothing and a sack of gold coins. And they never explain why the merchant wanted his clothes. Like they do a transition with the merchant sniffing his clothes as like a joke but that’s all the explanation we get. Then we get introduced to our first of many heroines. Elze and Linze. They’re twins. He saves them from some people trying to mug them or something. and gives them a gold coin. This is an important detail for me to complain about later. He introduces himself as Mochizuki Touya and they point out that that’s not how first and last names usually go and they ask him if he’s from a country that’s totally not japan called Eashen. He doesn’t ever give them a proper answer but they kinda just assume he is. So they all decide to get guild cards together and start adventuring together. So since this dude just got reincarnated here he can’t read. So while they’re looking at quests he points that out. Now this is a sort of medieval isekai. Not much technology. So it’d probably be normal for peasants to be illiterate. BUT DOES THIS FUCKING DUDE SEEM LIKE A PEASANT TO YOU?? HE SAVED TWO RELATIVELY KNOWLEDGEABLE ADVENTURERS FROM A MUGGER AND GAVE THEM A GOLD COIN FROM A SACK OF FUCKING GOLD COINS ON TOP OF THAT. NO MATTER WHAT WAY YOU LOOK AT IT THAT’S FUCKING WEIRD. i’m not even halfway done btw this is still the beginning of episode 1. So they go and defeat a bunch of “one-horned wolves” and after that little venture with no good fight choreography he asks them if they could help him with A) learning to read and write and B) learning magic. They then explain how magic works in this world. Him not knowing how magic works in this world is another point in the possible peasant category. Magic in this world is decided by affinities. If you have an affinity for water magic you can use water magic. If you have an affinity for water and dark magic you can use water and dark and so on and so forth. Sometimes an individual will be able to use null magic or “personal magic” it’s basically magic unique to an individual. Back to elemental affinites. it’s extremely rare for a person to have affinities in three elements. Touya here has all 6. And on top of that he can use all types of Null magic. After that little display some random lady comes in like “oh i need new food for my restaurant and i heard you were a foreigner do you know any Eashen dishes I could use???????” AND HE DOESN’T EVEN STOP TO THINK LIKE “oh wait i’m not actually from there i should just say no” NO HE JUST FUCKING SAYS “hoW AbOuT iCE CrEAm?????” and then he pulls out his phone and Elze and Linze ask what it is and he’s like “Oh it’s a special magical item that only I can use” AND THAT HAS TO BE SO FUCKING EXTREMELY RARE AND VALUABLE LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING. HE DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO USE MAGIC UNTIL A COUPLE MINUTES AGO AND YET YOU JUST ACCEPT THAT HE HAS A UNIQUE MAGIC ITEM THAT ONLY HE CAN USE. FUCKING CALL HIM OUT SAY SOMETHING’S UP WITH HIM. HE’S JUST LETTING EVERYTHING HANG OUT PUNISH HIM FOR THAT FOR FUCKSAKE. I’m gonna stop ranting about how stupid all the characters are and come around to the plots of each episode. THEY FEEL LIKE A BUNCH OF COINCIDENCES TAPED TOGETHER TO FORM A PLOT. LIKE “oh he just happened to see them get mugged in an alley” and by itself that’s completely fine but stacked on top of the fact that HE JUST GOT A SACK OF GOLD COINS BECAUSE A MERCHANT JUST HAPPENED TO SEE HIM WALKING TOWARDS THE TOWN. AND HE USES ONE OF THOSE COINCIDENCE COINS TO GIVE THEM AFTER HE SAVES THEM. AND THEN THE LADY JUST HAPPENS TO SHOW UP AT THE END SO HE COULD WHIP OUT HIS SMARTPHONE AND THEY COULD DO A FUCKING KAWAII ICE CREAM OUTRO. FUCK. AND EVERYTHING GETS WORSE IN EPISODE TWO CUZ THEY MEET A GIRL FROM EASHEN AND SHE INTRODUCES HERSELF THE SAME WAY JAPANESE PEOPLE DO AND HE DOES THE SAME INTRODUCTION BACK AND SHE’S LIKE “OH SHIT ARE YOU FROM EASHEN” AND YOU GOTTA REALIZE, THIS IS HIS OUT, THIS CAN EXPLAIN AWAY ANY JAPANESE TENDENCIES HE HAS BUT HE JUST STAYS VAGUE AND SAYS “NO I’M NOT FROM THERE BUT I’M FROM A VERY SIMILAR COUNTRY” LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DUDE TAKE YOUR FUCKING OUT THAT WAS YOUR ONLY ONE. SO THEY DECIDE TO TEAM UP CUZ THEY NEED TO DELIVER A LETTER TO SOMEONE AND THEY GET ON A CARRIAGE AND TOUYA TELLS LINZE HE WANTS TO STUDY NULL MAGIC SO HE CAN USE MORE OF IT AND HE LEARNS A FEW. ONE CALLED APORTS THAT CAN TELEPORT SMALL ITEMS TO YOUR HAND AND ONE CALLED SLIP THAT CANCELS ALL FRICTION AND BASICALLY JUST MAKES THE PERSON SLIP. HE GETS ONE MORE THAT I CAN’T REMEMBER THE NAME OF AND IT GIVES HIM HEIGHTENED SENSES WHEN OUT OF NOWHERE��“OH, I SMEEL BLOOD OVER THERE!!!!!!” AND THEY ALL RUSH OUT AND SAVE THE PEOPLE WHO WERE DYING AND THEN SOME CHICK CALLS OUT TO THEM LIKE “FUCK HELP MY BUTLER’S DYING HE HAS AN ARROW IN HIS CHEST” AND SO THEY GET OVER THERE AND TOUYA’S LIKE “HEY LINZE DO HEALING MAGIC” AND SHE’S LIKE “NO I CAN’T THE ARROW’S LODGED IN THERE IF I USE IT NOW THERE’LL BE A FOREIGN OBJECT STUCK IN HIS CHEST” AND THAT GOT ME THINKING. THAT MEANS SOME IDIOT SNAPPED THE ARROW OFF WHILE IT WAS IN THE BUTLER’S CHEST. THAT’S BASICALLY A DEATH SENTENCE IN THIS WORLD. HEALING MAGIC WON’T COMPLETELY SAVE THEM IF THERE’S STILL A FOREIGN OBJECT IN THEIR CHEST. ONE COULD ARGUE “OH THEN IT MUST’VE BEEN THE ATTACKERS, THEY SNAPPED IT OFF TO ENSURE HE WOULD DIE. THE ONLY ATTACKERS WERE A SUMMONER A BUNCH OF SUMMONED LIZARDMEN!! I DOUBT EITHER THE SUMMONER WOULD THINK IT IMPORTANT ENOUGH THAT THE BUTLER DIE THAT HE’D ORDER THE LIZARDMEN TO SNAP THE ARROW OFF IN HIS CHEST. SO THAT FUCKING MEANS THAT THE ONE WHO BASICALLY FUCKING SENTENCED HER BUTLER TO DEATH WAS THE GIRL WHO CALLED THEM OVER TO HEAL HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE. LUCKILY WE LEARNED THE SOLUTION TO THIS PUZZLE ALREADY AND TOUYA USES APORTS TO PULL THE ARROWHEAD OUT. AND THEN WE LEARN THAT THIS GIRL WHO THEY JUST SAVED JUST HAPPENS TO BE THE DAUGHTER OF THE DUKE. WHICH IS THE HIGHEST POSSIBLE RANKING NOBLE IN THE COUNTRY. SO THEY GO TO HIS HOUSE TO RECEIVE A REWARD FOR SAVING HIS DAUGHTER AND BUTLER, BUT OH NO! TURNS OUT THE DUKE’S WIFE IS BEDRIDDEN DUE TO SOME SEVERE ILLNESS. AND THE REASON HIS DAUGHTER WENT OUT WAS IN HOPES THAT SHE COULD LEARN HER GRANDFATHER’S PERSONAL MAGIC CALLED RECOVERY THAT COULD CURE ANY ILLNESS. WHATEVER SHALL WE DOO- AND FUCKING TOUYA’S JUST LIKE “YO I CAN USE ALL NULL MAGIC” AND HEALS HER AFTER FIVE FUCKING YEARS OF BEING BLIND. LIKE GOOD FOR HER AND ALL BUT IMAGINE HOW ANTICLIMACTIC THAT IS. THEY WERE EXPECTING SOME EPIC JOURNEY WHERE THEIR DAUGHTER WOULD WORK HARD TO OVERCOME AND LEARN THE RECOVERY NULL MAGIC AND FINALLY SAVE HER MOTHER BUT SOME DUDE SWOOPS IN LIKE “OH, UH ... ABRACADABRA!” AND SHE’S NOT FUCKING BLIND ANYMORE! LIKE SERIOUSLY!!! AND THEN THE DUKE GIVES THEM LIKE 4000 PLATINUM COINS WHICH IS LIKE 40,000,000 YEN OR SOMETHING AND I’M PRETTY SURE THAT WAS ALL JUST AN EXCUSE FOR WHY THEY CAN BUY EXPENSIVE STUFF IN THE FUTURE

and thus concludes my thoughts on the first two episodes of In another world with my smartphone. oh also he doesn’t ever pull out his phone during episode two.

[hell-much]

05. your car slid into a snowbank and i’m the mechanic that comes to tow you (For the Sansaery ask prompt =D)

So when I first read this, I had no idea how to make this work... then it started to grow on me and... what do you know a little over 4000 words later -can someone tell me how to write short things, please?!- here we are. Hope you enjoy it and that Sansa as the mechanic works for you. :)

Thanks for the prompt!

---

It was a simple lesson that you read just about everywhere, and everyone and their fathers will happily tell you. If you ever feel your car starting to skid while driving, do not, under no circumstances hit the brakes; instead, get your foot off the gas and slowly try to stir it back into the lane.

Not exactly complicated.

Except it absolutely was.

Margaery's instincts to bring the car to a stop worked a lot faster than any common sense or competent advice. When she felt her car starting to lose grip, at the sixty kilometres per hour she was going, she hit the brakes. Hard.

The next thing she knew, she had slid off the road, the car coming to a forced stop with a solid thud and the inside of the vehicle going completely black.

For the first moment, her hands were trembling and tightly wound around the steering wheel all at once, and she needed a moment to collect herself. It took her an instant to figure out that her lack of vision did not have anything to do with shards of glass from the windscreen damaging her eyes. It was only completely covered in snow.

To her further discontent realising that did not help things along a great deal, nor did turning on the wipers. The lights of the car were buried firmly into the easily two-metre-high snowbank at the side of the road.  Only the moonlight shining through the windscreen offered a bit more vision than before.

A look out of the side and back showed her that she was not too far off the road. Another deep breath later, she put the car in reverse, and gently pressed on the gas pedal. She heard the car's engine roaring up, felt the vibrations of the wheelspin go through every part of the car, but nothing happened; she did not move an inch.

In a mixture out of stubborn helplessness and madness, she tried the exact same thing five more times, not entirely surprisingly with the exact same result.

When, at last, she got out of the car, to try and figure out if there was something she could do, the full extent of how screwed she was here became clear to her. The hood of the car was firmly stuck in the snowbank and the tires more than halfway buried in deep snow.

Shivering, she slipped back onto the driver seat, turned on the reading light and fished her phone out of her purse. As every independent and self-providing adult in her situation, she did the only reasonable thing; she called her dad.

Her father spent the first ten minutes listing all she had done wrong here to land in this situation. And then another fifteen describing things she could try to get the car back on the road -none for which she had the necessary equipment. Eventually, he surrendered and told her he would call his automobile club and have a towing vehicle send to her.

Margaery couldn't help a queasy feeling once she'd hung up the phone, wishing she'd stayed on with him a little longer. The realisation that she was right in the middle of nowhere, all by herself was hitting her full force. Each and every urban legend that started exactly like that came to her mind precisely in those moments, and she quickly pressed the button for central locking and fished in her purse for her pepper spray.

Like that, with the heating cranked up all the way and the radio turned on she found it bearable.

The ninety minutes it took for the light's of the truck to appear in her rear-view mirror were among the longest in her life. Only with them, a new sense of uneasiness settled in her chest. She had absolutely no idea who was coming for her help, but they doubtlessly knew that she was stuck here all by herself.

Her hands tightened firmly around the can in her hand and even as she saw the tall, lean figure in the lights approaching she still shrieked when there was a knock to her window.

How fast this kind of anxiety could be replaced by absolute bewilderment she had not known previous to the pale, friendly looking face, and most definitely feminine features of a woman appearing at her car window.

She rolled down the window, and still a good deal confused. "You're the mechanic?"

As the words left her mouth, she felt incredibly stupid. She decided to put the biased way of expecting a man to the adrenaline that still coursed through every single cell in her body.

The woman did not take offence but merely shot her a smirk. "If that'll work for you."

Margaery allowed herself another moment to collect her nerves before unlocking the car and stepping out into the freezing night air. She stood by and took in the woman taking in the damage with the help of a flashlight.

"My first guess would be a broken front axle," the woman observed after a short while. "But we have no way of knowing until we get you back onto the street.

Margaery stood by as she gathered the towline connected to the truck and attached it beneath the rear bumper of her rental. The truck already being parked in an appropriate distance and angle, left the mechanic to only activate the towing mechanism by hitting a button on the side of the truck. The towline tightened, and after a second or so the car hitched out of the holes it had buried itself into. An ugly scratching noise followed once it moved back onto the concrete of the street.

Margaery stepped around the car together with the mechanic, and she grimaced once she saw the hood properly dented in. It looked like she had driven into a brick wall, not a simple snowbank. There went her deposit.

"I'm afraid you are done with driving for tonight," came the remark of the mechanic. "We'll have to take you back to the workshop."

"Shit," Margaery mumbled. So much for her hope to arrive by tomorrow morning.

The mechanic took Margaery in for a flash; shivering, with her arms wrapped around herself.

"Why don't you go ahead and sit in the truck? I'll have this up on the platform in a couple of minutes, and then we can get out of here."

The question of whether she needed any help was on the tip of Margaery's tongue, but she caught herself before she could make a fool out of herself. She did not know the first thing about cars, or any of this, and would be properly useless.

As instructed, she climbed into the driver's cabin, pulling her scarf lose at the comfortably heated air that surrounded her. A quick try at a google search showed her that the internet connection was more or less non-existent, and for a moment, she considered how lucky she had been to make a phone call. A night spent out here in this cold, middle of nowhere was anything but desirable.

Dropping her phone into her lap, she took a look over her shoulder. She saw through the window that the car was already loaded up onto the truck and the mechanic was just putting what appeared to be finishing touches on securing it properly.

The woman climbed into her seat a moment later. She ridded herself off her jacket, and gloves, shooting Margaery an encouraging smile as she moved along. "We'll probably be able to fix it within a couple of days. Nothing too complicated."

A couple of days were an eternity when you hardly had more than that off from work. "Any chance I can get a rental car from somewhere tonight?"

"Tonight?"

Margaery nodded and noticed perfectly manicured nails coloured with bright red nail polish -what kind of mechanic had hands like that?- turn the key in the ignition.

"Low chances to be honest," she answered after a moment of contemplation. "We have a couple of rental companies, but none of them will open before tomorrow morning."

Margaery made a small sound of frustration.

"Where were you headed at this time anyway?"

"Queenscrown," Margaery answered with a sigh. "My connecting flight was cancelled because of the weather."

"And you thought driving in this weather was the better option?" The daunting in her tone was evident, and Margaery glanced in her direction just in time to see her smirking.

Margaery pursed her lips, because, yes, hearing her say it out loud it did sound like an entirely foolish plan.

"You are not from the North, are you?"

"What gave me away? My extraordinary driving on icy roads?"

The mechanic chuckled. "That, yes," she gave her a quick glance up and down while steering the truck onto the road. "And your outfit choice."

Margaery frowned and glanced down on her woollen coat, scarf and leather boots. "What's wrong with my outfit?"

She received a smile and a shake of her head in return. "Forget I said something."

"No," Margaery insisted. "Please do tell."

The woman threw her another quick glance that suggested she'd humour her. "It's pretty." The way she said it did not exactly sound like a compliment. "And Northerners do not really look for pretty in their outfit choice but for practical and preventing hypothermia."

Instinctively Margaery's fingers picked at her Burberry coat and her large scarf. She was not wrong. It did look more like it was made for a stroll through a ski town than anything else.

"I didn't mean to offend you," the mechanic added a moment later.

An instinctive "You didn't." did not make it past Margaery's lips once she spotted the smile the other woman bit away. She had meant to offend her, even if it was just a little.

"It is my first time in the North," she answered instead. "I'm from the Reach."

"Long way from home," the woman noted and flung an intrigued glance Margaery's way. "What brings you to Queenscrown then? Boyfriend there?"

"No," Margaery returned. "My brother is stationed there for the past six months. He's been having sort of a rough time."

"Military?"

"Yes," she sighed in return.

She'd been worried about him; it was the longest time in all their life that they had not seen each other and he'd sounded depressed when they talked. She suspected it had some connection to the drama surrounding his forced transfer to the North, after all the uproar about the affair with his superior.

"I have a cousin who is stationed in Queenscrown," the mechanic gave back after a moment of silence. "It can be rough. Plus it's not exactly the North's advertising location for a vacation."

"No, it doesn't seem to be."

"The good news for you though is that we have a daily train from Wintertown that brings you there in under seven hours."

While seven hours was still a hell of a long time to get from one town to the next, Margaery accepted it as a silver lining. If only because it would save her from any more driving in this icy hell.

Even now, when she was not driving herself, those narrow, dark roads still made her anxious, and she wondered one more time how she had ever considered this a good idea.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she stole the one or other glance at the woman next to her. She was leading the truck so effortlessly and safely along the roads; not even lose her stability when fishing for a water bottle behind her seat that she held out to Margaery a moment later.

Most definitely not what she'd thought a mechanics hands to feel like, Margaery thought once again, when perfectly manicured and soft fingers brushed against her own. "Thanks."

"It'll only be another then minutes or so," the woman informed her when the first lights of the town came into view in the distance. "I have a friend who owns a B&B who might be able to set you up for the night. Chances to get a hotel room at this time are pretty low."

"Does this town have a curfew I am not aware of?" Margaery mumbled with a shake of her head, smiling when it brought a melodic laugh from the other woman.

"In winter it can feel a bit of a ghost town at night," she acknowledged.

Margaery found that statement proven when they drove through an almost empty main street. They passed a total of one other car on the roads, and all restaurants and even bars were pitch dark.

The mechanic pulled the truck into a driveway leading up to a big parking lot and an, in comparison, small garage at the other end of it.

"Let's get inside," she suggested. "I'll call my friend, and we'll finish the paperwork."

Margaery let herself be led through a roll-up gate, into a dark garage and workshop. They came to a stop in front of a door on the other end of it, that she unlocked. Subsequently, she switched on the light and led her into a comfortably heated office room with an adjoining kitchen.

"Have a seat," the mechanic told her gesturing to one of the desks while shrugging off her own jacket and pulling off her beanie.

For just a short moment, Margaery had trouble following the offer, finding herself entirely caught off guard by seeing the other woman in proper light for the first time. Out on the street and inside the truck she'd figured her to be easy on the eyes. Still, that vague assumption had by no means prepared her for the contrast of bright red hair, braided into a delicate updo, and sparkling blue eyes; not to mention her smile.

"How about a coffee?"

Clearing her throat, Margaery pulled at her scarf and fidgeted with the first buttons of her coat; then she managed a smile of her own. "That sounds divine."

The redhead stepped behind the desk Margaery had taken a seat at and pulled two forms out of a filing system, placing them in front of her along with a pen. "Why don't you get started on these and I'll get us some of that divine caffeine ."

Margaery nodded, shrugged her coat off and just as she'd leaned over the form, scanning the required fields. Only a second later her mind forgot all personal details she'd ever known. On her way to the small adjoining kitchen, the redhead had unzipped the top of her white overall, slipped out of the sleeves and tied them around her waist.

The form-fitting black sweater, with a plunging neckline and the dangling silver necklace, was not what Margaery had expected.

"Medium roast, okay?" she asked over her shoulder while fishing for the coffee capsules on one of the shelves.

Margaery nodded, but did not have her face under control fast enough for the other woman to see it. She smiled at Margaery still, turned back and filled the water drunk of the coffee machine.  Margaery focused again on the form in front of her, starting to fill in the first field, when a plate of chocolate chip cookies was placed in front of her.

"Help yourself," she said, taking one off the plate herself. "This is my best batch so far."

Margaery watched her as she spun around back to the kitchenette, taking two cups and saucers out of the cupboard. Absentmindedly she picked one of the cookies off the plate, taking a bite as she brought her attention back on the page before here.

"Oh wow," she muttered after only a short moment.

The redhead shot her a smile, while slipping a capsule into the coffee maker. "Good wow?"

Still chewing Margaery covered her lips with her fingers and nodded. "Absolutely." That had to be one of the best cookies she'd ever tried. She dropped the pen altogether and focused her full attention on eating the delicious treat.

"So you know your way around cars, and you bake?"

Redhead smiled as she took the first filled cup out from under the machine and placed it in front of Margaery. "Not talents you'd consider to go together?"

"No, I just think it an unfair division of talents." Margaery chuckled wiping her hands on a provided napkin. "I am useless in both the kitchen and in anything technical."

The other woman graciously sunk into her office chair, a cup of coffee in front of her; a cookie between her lips while turning on the computer and typing in her password.

"So, you own this place?"

Smiling eyes glanced away from the computer screen and at Margaery. "You sound surprised?"

Shaking her head already, Margaery still tried to piece her answer together so she would not be offended. "It's just… you don't seem like the type?"

Yeah, that not trying to sound offensive thing had gone down great for sure.

Luckily her opposite looked still more amused than offended, her smirk had turned a little broader, and she raised her eyebrows. "And what type did you expect to own a workshop?"

Not wanting to dig her own hole any deeper Margaery shook her head and shrugged. "Forget I said something, it was stupid."

"No, no, I'd like to hear more about how feminist and knowing how to do an oil change do not go together."

She was teasing her, her tone playful, so much that it actually finally drew a smile to Margaery's face.

She leaned forward then, her chin resting on crossed hands. "It's a family business. My sister owns it and runs the more practical side of it. I just help out with the administrative tasks and with some of the basic things I picked up along the way."

Content that not all her instincts had failed her Margaery focused her attention one more time back at the form.  "This is isn't your full-time job then."

"Does that disappoint you?"

Making a feigned thoughtful face Margaery tiled her head but gave her most dazzling smile. "Maybe a little?"

"I'm finishing my history MA this year."

"Impressive," she noted.

"Not as impressive as," she leaned over the table to get a better glance at what Margaery had managed to fill in on the form. "Surgical resident at KLU Hospital." Her eyes darted to the sheet one more time. "Margaery."

She said her name through a glance up at her and made it sound like it was her new favourite word.

"I couldn't do that," she added then, leaning back again, taking a sip from her coffee. "People's lives being your responsibility… that is a lot of pressure. Do you have a speciality in mind yet?"

"Neurological?"

Red-head chuckled. "That sounds like you are asking me."

Margaery rolled her eyes, "I might have been … struggling with that question for a while now."

Having the legacy of Olenna Tyrell to live up to a challenge she had always been happy to take on and succeed at. But the further she got in her residency, the less her grandmother's field of expertise seemed what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

A soft, so-very-not-a-mechanics' hand reached out and covered her own for a short moment. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Margaery bit her lip, her eyes drawn to the pale, warm hand on her own. She wasn't upset. But she also found that she didn't want the touch to go away.

"I'm fine," she settled on with a small smile. "Thanks."

To her joy the warm palm lingered for another moment, and the smile that was sent her way along with the touch was equally full of warmth.

The moment was interrupted by the buzzing sound of a phone ringing, and yet it still needed a couple of seconds to entirely leave them. Hands retracted, but blue eyes remained firmly on her for a long moment, even while she fished the phone out of her purse. The soft smile only wavering when her eyes darted to the name on the screen.

"Excuse me for a moment?" She pushed her chair back and got to her feet, taking the call into the workshop.

Margaery tried her best to gather her focus for long enough to finally fill out the insurance form but didn't get much further as parts of the redhead's voice reached her through the door cracked open.

She sounded apologetic, Margaery was sure she made out the word "Sorry" a couple of times and something along the lines of "I don't think this will work out.".

The woman's smile had dimmed when she returned to the desk; a frown on her forehead, while she was clearly avoiding to look at Margaery just then, fiercely clicking at something on her screen.

"Is everything okay?"

Margaery could see on her expression how she went from wanting to tell her everything was fine, to actually settling on the truth once she looked at her.

With a heavy sigh, she fell back against her chair. "I'm just so bad at this."

Margaery was unable to help the lopsided smile any more than her words. "I thought we settled on me envying you because you are not bad at anything?"

That managed to wipe the tension of the other woman's face for a short moment, and she chuckled. "Sorry to disenchant you there."

It burned on Margaery's tongue to ask what exactly happened, but it did not feel like within her right towards someone she'd met only a good two hours ago.

Luckily she didn't have to ponder over boundaries, because the redhead rested her chin on a hand, looking at her with a half-smile. "Full disclosure?" she asked with a sigh. "I was sort of on a date when your call came in."

"Oh."

Margaery hoped that it sounded apologetic like she intended and did not give away too much of truckload of disappointment she felt emptied over her head.

It figured that she was seeing someone; looking like she did, she was probably one of those girls who did not stay single for longer than a very short period of time in-between relationships.

The other woman made a dismissive hand gesture. "It serves me right for making plans when I'm on-call. I simply did not assume anyone would be foolish enough to drive tonight."

She gave Margaery another one of those teasing smiles, that had excited Margaery before, only now it felt border lining on cruel.

"At last an explanation for your outfit," Margaery pointed out, wanting to talk about anything but her date. "I figured that wasn't your typical attire beneath your working clothes."

The redhead looked down on herself. "Oh. No. Sorry to disappoint you."

Oh, you have no idea.

Finding it hard to look at her Margaery glanced own and tapped the pen against the still only halfway finished form. "I'm still sorry for ruining your night."

A shrug went over slender shoulders. "There was not a whole lot to be ruined." Margaery glanced up just in time to see one of those gorgeous smiles sent her way. "If anything I feel I should give you a discount, for giving me a reason to get out of there."

Margaery's finger tightened around the pen, drawing small lines along the edge of the sheet, glad to have something to focus on, despite the tall, gorgeous woman in front of her. "Bad match?"

"Actually no," came the prompt reply. "She was lovely."

She. Margaery had a hard time just about then to suppress a joyous smile that wanted to spread over her face.

"But?"

"But," her eyes were fastened on Margaery in a way that had warmth rise to cheeks. "There was no chemistry."

This woman had a way of emphasising single, harmless words in a way that did things to Margaery. She was not someone who blushed or got flustered, but that woman had her as close to it as she ever was.

"And in my experience, that is nothing that develops over time."

"No," Margaery agreed in a quiet tone. "That's not something you can force."

When her eyes darted from her face to her hands Margaery thought for a moment she'd reach out again; the question that came instead felt a little like a cold shower. "Would you like another coffee?"

"I shouldn't," she pressed out through a forced smile, hands cupping the empty coffee cup.

The soft smile remained in place, but she pushed back her chair. "Perhaps we should be going then. It's late."

Margaery could not say what she had expected, if she should have expected anything, but this felt cut all too short. Still, she followed suit to the other woman getting to her feet. Was it possible that she had read the situation so false? Hyped up on all that leftover adrenaline and caffeine, she couldn't exclude it.

The other woman went on peeling herself out of the rest of her overall, and Margaery failed graciously at not appearing too obvious in not admiring the tight jeans that revealed themselves underneath.

"I just came out of a ten-day night shift," she told her, in an attempt to fill the silence, shrugging her own coat back on. "This is basically lunchtime for me."

"I imagine it's hard to get into a normal rhythm after that." Her curves accented so well by the clothing disappeared underneath a thick black down coat.

"Hence my nightly driving, trying to make the best of a sleepless night." Margaery shrugged, fishing the unfinished forms off the desk. "What do I do with these?"

"You can drop them off tomorrow. No rush." The door leading back to the workshop was held open to her.  

It was cold in the garage and Margaery wrapped her arms around herself while the other woman locked the door behind them. "Did you ever call your friend?" Margaery wondered out loud. "About that room?"

"I haven't."

All the sudden Margaery found eyes looking at her with new intensity.

"I still can if you want me to," she added, taking a slow step towards her, playing with the keys she held between long fingers.

Margaery swallowed, a tentative smile forming on her lips. Every nerve ending in her body felt suddenly on alert; in the very best way. "That depends on the alternative."

"You could come back to my place."

Heat coiled inside Margaery.

Without a doubt she was crazy to consider it; off the top of her head, there were twenty very good reasons why this was a bad idea.

Only she'd also never been more certain she'd regret not doing something for all eternity.

The redhead stood tall in front of her, still in a reasonable distance, but that could not lessen any of the intensity this moment had. For the first time tonight, there was a hint of shyness in her features, an indicator that this was not something she did on a daily basis.

It was just that quality that had Margaery nod her head at last. "If you'll have me."

A soft smile turned into a mischievous smirk. "My pleasure."

She let herself be led to exit towards the parking lot, where she came to a stop in the door that was held open for her. In the lights from the street, she saw blue eyes taking her in.

"One more thing," Margaery said, looking up at her, pursing her lips for a moment.

She received an expectant look in return.

"What's your name?"

The redhead chuckled melodically. "Sansa. Sansa Stark."

Margaery pushed herself off the door frame then and went a couple of steps backwards into the parking lot. "Pleasure to meet you, Sansa."