#there’s so much more. i gotta make a master post but yeah send your love to the writers

[campingwiththecharmings]

Can't Fight This Feeling

AN: In a bit of a writing slump so I went back and finished this WIP I've had sitting in my google docs for almost a year lol. Hope y'all enjoy~ (based off of a prompt from this post).

(Un-beta’d)

You and Santi have been dancing around your feelings for each other since the day you met.

Rated: T Words: 2,171 Pairing: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x F!Reader (wrote with a F!Reader in mind but since there's no smut, it can probably be read as GN) Warnings: alcohol consumption, unresolved sexual tension, probably way too much banter, LONGING, friends who are secretly in love with each other. AO3

——————

“Oh, come on, Santi, it’s my turn,” you pout, slouching against the wall where the dart board hangs. 

He takes a sip from his beer and chuckles, throwing one of the darts in his hand at the board by your head. You yelp in surprise as the loud thunk resounds in your ear and shoot him a glare.  

“Probably not the best place to lean, cariño,” he smirks, taking another sip. 

Frankie claps him on the shoulder, turning Santiago’s attention to him. “Hey, I’m callin’ it a night, man. I’m beat.” 

“Yeah, I think we will too, for obvious reasons,” Will says, gesturing to his brother who’s half asleep in the booth beside him.  

“But we just started another game, guys, you can’t leave yet,” you argue before stealing a swig from Santiago’s beer and giggling when tries to take the bottle back from you. 

Will shakes his head fondly, shooting Frankie a look you and Santi both miss while he’s chasing you around the pool table. You steal another sip and raise your eyebrows in challenge, giggling when he grumbles something under his breath. 

“What was that, Pope? Didn’t quite catch that,” you call, holding his beer bottle up tauntingly. 

He rolls his eyes. 

“Goodnight, kids. Be good,” Frankie calls, waving at the two of you. 

“Night, Fish!” you and Santi yell at the same time, sending you into a fit of giggles. 

There’s a chance you might be just a little bit tipsy. 

Santi shakes his head, raising an eyebrow as you absently take another pull from his beer.  

“You realize you owe me a beer now, right?” he asks, gesturing to the bottle in your hand. 

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’ before chugging the rest of Santi’s drink. “I won this fair and square.” 

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “More like ‘stole.’” 

“Like you stole my turn, you mean?” 

“I didn’t steal your turn.” 

“Yeah you did, I was supposed to go first.” 

“Says who?” he scoffs, leaning against the pool table. 

You pause, your brain sluggishly searching for a response. “The…gentlemen’s code.” 

He snorts, eyebrows raising in amusement. “The gentlemen’s code?” 

You nod, crossing your arms defiantly. “Yeah. You know, chivalry or whatever.” 

“Right,” he says softly, mischief in his eyes as he saunters over to you, invading your personal space. “And who said I was a gentleman?” 

There’s a heat flickering in his eyes as he holds your gaze, a small smirk on his lips. You swallow thickly, unable to look away, the spicy scent of his cologne making you feel lightheaded. 

“You want another round?” a voice says suddenly, dragging you both back to reality. 

You both jolt, jumping back from each other as if you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. 

“Yeah,” Santiago says, nodding at the waitress. “Thanks.” 

She nods distractedly, scribbling something on her notepad as she heads back to the bar. 

The dull thud and subsequent clatter of a dart bouncing off the wall brings his attention back to you. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” he says, watching unamused as you randomly toss darts at the board.  

“What?” you scoff, clutching the remaining darts to your chest. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” 

“What do you mean? I’m playing darts.” 

“No, you’re throwing darts. Playing implies that you have some kind of game plan or general knowledge of the rules.”

 “Oh. Wow, I am so sorry. Please teach me, oh, Master of the Darts.” 

He scoffs. “If I thought you were even remotely serious, I might consider it.” 

“Who says I’m not serious?” 

“‘Master of the Darts?’” 

You shrug. “What? It’s a better nickname than ‘Pope.’” 

The waitress returns with two more beers, setting them on the high top next to Santi. He thanks her, covertly slipping her a few bills as a tip. 

“Hey,” you say, bringing his attention back to you. “How come I don’t have a nickname?”  

He chuckles, twisting off the top of one of the bottles and handing it to you. “What are you talking about?” 

“You and Will and Benny and Frankie all have nicknames. How come I don’t have one?” 

He gazes at you in silence for a moment, opening the other beer and bringing it to his lips. You’re pouting, leaning your elbows on the high top.  

“Half a minute ago, you were going on about how stupid my nickname was.” 

“It is,” you say matter-of-factly. 

Santi laughs, coughing a little as he chokes on his beer. “Then why would you want one?” 

You twist your lips, putting your hand up to cradle your chin. “Better to have a stupid nickname than no nickname at all.” 

He contemplates this for a moment and then nods. “Fair enough. Want me to give you one?” 

You scoff, taking a pull from your bottle. “I don’t want a pity nickname, Garcia.” 

“Better to have a pity nickname than no nickname at all,” he teases, raising his eyebrows. 

You roll your eyes at him, biting back a smile. “Whatever.” 

He chuckles, taking another pull from his bottle. 

The night continues, and so do the drinks, the alcohol making you both klutzier and even more giggly. On your third round of darts, Santi takes it upon him to correct your (apparently) improper form when your dart bounces off of one of the framed photos on the wall and you dissolve into a fit of laughter.  

“C’mere, I wanna show you something,” he slurs, waving you over as he takes another swig from the bottle in his hand. 

You roll your eyes with a huff, but humor him nonetheless, shuffling over and giggling again when you trip over nothing. He waves you over again, this time more impatient and makes a weird flourishing motion with his hands when you stop in front of him. 

“Turn around,” he clarifies when you simply gaze at him in confusion, and you sigh again, doing as he asks. 

You wait, facing the wall with your back to him. After what feels like an eternity, you turn to glare over your shoulder at him. “Any day now, Garcia.” 

He scoffs, moving closer to you, so close he can feel the warmth of you through his clothes. He cups your elbow and moves your arm so you’re holding it at a 90-degree angle. Your hand with the dart is up by your head and his fingers are gentle as they shift yours, changing your hold around the dart. Your skin is smooth and soft and suddenly he wishes he could trace every inch of it. He pushes the thought away, grunting when you fight him a little, chuckling at his frustration; the sound sends a pleasant shiver through him. When he’s satisfied, he releases you, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. 

He leans in closer with the intention of matching your eye line, but instead ends up with his nose against the side of your neck, the intoxicating smell of you invading his senses. The urge to drag his nose along the shell of your ear is so strong he almost gives in, his breath ghosting over your skin. Instead, he halts, taking a step back, suddenly far more sober than he had been a moment ago. 

He looks up at the sound of his name, your face concerned as you gaze at him over your shoulder. “You okay?” 

He nods, running a hand through his curls. “Yeah, just, uh…got a little dizzy.” 

You turn toward him, now even more concerned. “Do you wanna sit?” 

He shakes his head, smiling slightly as he waves you off. “Nah, I’m good. We should probably call it night though…it’s late.” 

You study him silently for a moment, swaying slightly, before nodding and blinking at him blearily. “Yeah. I’m tired.” 

He smiles, grabbing your arm as you trip over nothing again. You snort, winding your arm around his and laying heavily against his shoulder. “Take me home, Pope.” 

Santiago grunts, stumbling a little at the vice grip you have on his arm, and moves to leave, throwing a few bills onto the table as he walks by. The night air is cool and crisp, sobering him even more, making it hard to ignore how good you feel pressed against his side. You both walk in silence, his brain replaying pieces of his night with you. 

“You’re quiet,” you say, eyeing him suspiciously when he turns to look at you. 

He forces a smile before looking ahead of him again, afraid he’s going to trip over something. “Just tired, like you said.” 

You nod, sighing as you lay your head against his shoulder. “I could fall asleep right now, to be honest.” 

His lips twitch, his actual smile threatening to spread across his lips. “Don’t let me stop you.” 

Your shoe catches on a crack in the sidewalk and you stumble a little, pulling on Santi’s arm and throwing him off balance. He grunts, and you giggle, somehow leaning into him even more than before. When you’ve both found your footing, he shakes his head, a soft smile on his lips. 

“Let’s get you home, you trainwreck.” 

Thankfully, your apartment isn’t far and you both make it safely to the door without further incident.  

“Sure you don’t need help getting up the stairs?” he asks, that crease between his brow deep with concern. 

You shake your head absently, your eyes trailing over the rest of his face—his strong brow, stately nose, chiseled jaw, and plush lips… 

He’s talking but you’re not sure what he’s saying, completely caught up in how gorgeous his face is. Is it weird that you want to touch it? Probably, you decide, yet still you can’t help but imagine whether his scruff would feel scratchy or like velvet against your fingertips. What would his lips feel like if you dragged your thumb across them? Would his chin feel as sharp as it looks if you cradled it in your hands? You want to know, need to know, the desire to touch him overtaking every thought or impulse in your brain until you finally say— 

"I like your stupid face.” 

He pauses, taken a little aback at the admission. After a moment, he snorts, brow furrowing as he chuckles. “Uh…thanks?” 

“It’s just so stupid,” you continue, trying to make sure he really understands. “It’s so…I like it. Can I touch it?” 

Santi chuckles again, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “You…wanna touch my face?” 

You nod, chewing your lip as you step a little closer, devouring him with your eyes. He swallows thickly, your suddenly ravenous gaze causing something warm to pool in his gut. 

“Can I?” you ask again, your voice soft, like a whisper. 

He shouldn’t, shouldn’t entertain this, especially with the state you’re both in right now, but damn if he isn’t curious to see what happens. So he nods. You smile at him almost dreamily and reach up with both hands to cup his cheeks. Santi’s breath catches a little at your touch, and it takes everything in him not to completely melt into it.

His stubble is a tad prickly against your palms, yet somehow still soft as you swipe your thumbs across his cheekbones. It tickles in such a delightful way; you can’t help but smile. Santi’s lips part as you gently caress his face, drawing your gaze to his mouth. His breath puffs against your skin as you drag your thumb over his bottom lip, unconsciously pulling your own between your teeth. It’s so soft, so pillowy. Your finger catches a bit of his stubble on one of your passes over his lip and your breath catches, the combination of soft and sharp sending a shiver through your body. Suddenly, you wonder what it might be like, how it would feel, to have his lips pressed against yours, his five o’clock shadow scratching against your skin. What would it feel like elsewhere? Against your neck, perhaps or…between your thighs? Unable to stop yourself, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek, your eyes fluttering slightly as the hair on his face tickles your lips. 

You swallow thickly as you pull back, your skin warm, heart beating wildly in your chest. Santiago’s eyes are heavy, pupils wide and dark as he stares at you, your hand still on his face. You sober a little then, shaking your head slightly with a breathy chuckle as you release him and step away. 

“Well, uh,” you say, clearing your throat as you awkwardly shove your hands in your pockets. “Goodnight then, I guess.” 

Santi can’t find the strength to do much more than nod, his mouth still slightly open as he watches you walk up the steps that lead to the front door of your building. 

You wave before you head inside, cringing a little at yourself as you turn away, hoping he won’t remember any of this tomorrow.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

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[normal-internet-user]

OKKK OK look technicality speaking,,, i'm supposed to be indulging in the sleebies rn. BUT my brain would NOT let me sleep until i commished this to ya!!



your peepaw leo answer? fantabulous. jaw dropping, awe-inspiring, hit just the spot. Extravagantly whimsically stupendous. ultra super mega amazing. need i say more? YES AND I WILL CONTINUE TO DO SO-

yet. ☝🏼 & hear me out here.

*folds hands all neat and preppy in front of me, leans in close so we're nose-to-nose, all business* 

I have a storm a-brewin'. Up in the ole noggin'? Knock knock.

SPECIFICALLY ABOUT Reader and how they interact with Present (or to them, Past!) Leo!!

They're not as forthcoming as Casey, and I imagine that even after the war is won and the apocalypse is therefore prevented, that initial hostility would fade! … but instead it’d become … kind of awkward? They don't hate Leo, it's just. 

Not the Leo they know.

Not the Leo they know and love and miss and mourn and glory to be, they’ve got their work cut out for them.



Reader is still coping with the loss of everything. the breathing techniques alongside Master Michelangelo's high EQ teachings on handling emotions help a lot more than they'd expected.

And!! The present (past??? aughguhghhhh) Hamatos are a big help too!! With time, it all does get better ^^)

(AKA: everyone's ✨traumatized & coping together✨, m'kay? m'kay.)

This all boils down to Reader and how they re-evaluate (rebuild?) their relationship with Leo. The Leo in THIS timeline that they helped save. How they heal from their wounds, inside and out, and try to make the best of what they’ve got. Because if the future taught them one thing: it was that no matter what, you've gotta keep going. Don't give up.

Canon plotline following n' stuff before the fluff downpour!

Here's a hc format for random moments in the way I see it bc it's easier? Is it? (/lh)

When Leo was finally released from the Escape Pod and everyone took in how haggard he looked— pale, shaking, horrified at what he just witnessed,

When he snapped and lunged at Casey, 

Reader’s reaction was swifter than a bullet. 

They swept in front of their brother, effectively and terrifyingly going toe-to-toe, snout-to-nose with this Leo, snarling out a bite of their barely-concealed rage. Their eyes are slits, their teeth are fangs poised to strike, and the venom is promised.

They’re just as dangerous as him at that moment.

The threat goes unsaid: Back. Off.

Their heart is racing like crazy, alarm bells ringing in their head and frustrated tears build up in their eyes. They're swimming— no. Drowning in confusion. In feelings. In dread. In nausea. In grief.

They didn't care what iteration of Leo this was or what they'd ever face: the image of Papa, whatever version it was, even thinking of bringing harm to Casey was enough to send them teetering over the edge.

Time travel. Alien invasion. From “Apocalypse Is The Norm” to “You Can Stop This Hellscape From Ever Happening BUT You Wipe Out Everything You've Ever Known Along With it.”

....

yeah that's enough to make a grown man cry.



Reader quickly realizing that, amongst their simmering anger, there was a kind of fear. Not just the impending sense of anxiety at everything that was happening around them, but this was familiar.

Papa had never been an inherently volatile person (turtle? snrt), but he was a Leader.

His very presence demanded respect. 9.∞ times outta 10, he got it.

Despite the image of their beloved dad momentarily crumbling within meeting his younger counterpart, Reader can’t help but cling to that familiarity.

The familiarity of that intimidation – that regard – in Leonardo. 

He was pissed, that’s for sure. And Reader was actually kind of scared. Their Papa never was a violent person per se, but he’s had his moments. 

It was kind of uncanny, seeing the young shards of those traits come to be. To see this young Leo, with so much ahead of him, slowly but surely become the man you knew and was raised by. 

In spite of yourself, you could feel that same reverence and respect bloom in your chest. It hurt too, because it felt like it was for the wrong reasons. 

Yet, you digress.

Besides, you were never one to hold fast to grudges – it was poisonous. And despite feeling like you were being poisoned slowly, in to out, you knew it’d pass. 

It was along the lines of something Uncle Mikey had told you once ...

“What a caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.' Never forget, sunshine. Even when it feels like your world is ending, and you're caught right in the midst of it all?

... You can choose to birth a beautiful butterfly, ready to take on the world. You're a butterfly; every great thing starts small, no?” 

So. You watched Leo out of the corner of your eyes. Listened to Junior as he sparkled and praised your young uncles, telling them the truth of their characters in your timeline.

—andddd a flash of hot annoyance flared up in your chest when your brother piped up something about Papa’s rescue of a resistance camp to the teenager him,

You tried to settle the war within yourself. How would you fight both at once? Not when there was an entire one unfolding right in front of your very eyes. 

. . . you wanted your Papa.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ;༊

this has been,,, the first part of many a Wal-Mart ad. BA-DUM-TSS!

i'd add way more but my eyes feel like they're about to fall out jsjsj

*air kithes (ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³ /p and lounges on your back porch, cracking open a cold juice pouch* Penny for your thoughts, toots?

Ok, first of all: Dear (/p) you are a freakin genius- now let us discus some things over a juice pouch.

READER POST-MOVIE/DURING THE MOVIE HEADCANONS

....................................

You are 100% percent correct about all of that.

Firstly, when April manages to knock both of you out and drag you back to the Lair,

Casey is much more open, and excited.

You're treating them as a potential threat.

I'm talking resting bitch face, broski.

Sure, in the future, these people raised you, but this isn't the future.

So you glare and let CJ do the talking, because at the moment your still processing,

And your anger could lash out at anyone in this room.

When Leo turns on Casey, your reaction was like second nature.

You had alot of moments during the apocolypse where if you took to long to assess the threat, you were dead.

So when Leo lunged at Casey, and your mind locked him in as a threat,

Those familiar instincts of, "Danger: protect family" kicked in.

Weapon drawn, teeth beared, you looked more feral than Leo,

But you were scared too.

You were so fucking scared.

You knew this wasn't your papa,

You knew that.

But to see his younger counter part so angry, so ready to be violent was terrifying.

You'd only ever seen your papa angry and violent one time in your life.

It happened when you had to drag Casey back to base, half dead and yourself much worse for wear.

You'll never forget the violence that shone in his eyes at the sight of his children.

One unconcious and bleeding,

The other hardly able to stand.

You have no idea what happened to the officer that sent you and Casey out,

But he wasn't seen around much after that, most said he was demoted to work in the more... laboring parts of the base.

Looking into Leo's eyes at this moment, you see a very similar violence to that day,

But what scares you is that violence is now directed at your brother.

After Casey explains none of this happened in your guys' time,

Leo shoved past you, and had his little, "We're going because I say so" moment.

You were beyond pissed.

Here was his team, telling him to wait,

To hold on a second, to come up with a plan,

And he was just- ignoring them.

But, you kept silent and followed Casey when he left with Leo,

You'd be damned if you left your brother alone with this idiot.

In the turtle tank, while Casey practically sings his praises, you can't help the scowl that builds on your face.

Casey kept using present tense, "You are.", and, "you were" in Donnie's case,

He just couldn't seem to grasp that this wasn't your family, future tense should be used.

Not past, not present, future.

Because he's not technically wrong,

But it still rubs you the wrong way for him to compare your Papa, to this guy.

In the subway tunnels, you get seperated from Casey, you end up with Donnie and Mikey.

Mikey had to physically pull you into the tank kicking and screaming.

You needed to be next to your brother.

You had always been right beside each other your whole lives,

You were terrified.

When you were in that tank, and it was on the verge of crumbling, you started having flashbacks of the time Kraang had attacked your first home.

You were so small, just a little kid waiting for Papa to come find you.

You were on the verge of sobbing as you desperatly tried getting ahold of Casey.

Skipping ahead to the end of the movie,

You didn't wanna let go of Casey's hand.

It's odd, knowing that you don't need to see what's lurking in every corner,

Because there's nothing there anymore.

You don't have to be scared.

That's when you notice the shimmer of something clipped to your boot.

Looking down, you see a blue, star shaped hair clip.

How it had managed to stay on your boot this entire time was a mystery,

But what was less of a mystery was how it got there.

You knew your papa had placed it there.

You grabbed the hair clip of your boot, tears welled in your eyes,

Then you let out a choked sob.

You clutched the hair pin so tightly you might draw blood, and you sobbed and sobbed.

It was like all your emotions poured out at once, you didn't even know which one you were feeling.

It was a mix of grief, sadness, anger, and anguish.

Casey pulled you close, muttering how proud he was of you, you'd done so well.

"Sensei would be proud." he said, "Papa would be proud of you."

You clung to your brother like he was your life line, because in a way he was.

He was all you had left of your life before.

Post-movie, you're awkward around Leo to say the least.

During the movie, you were angry with him, mostly because of the paralelles between him and Master Leonardo.

But post-movie it's just awkward,

You can't look at him without being reminded of the father figure you lost.

All you wanted was for your papa to hold you,

To sing you to sleep like he used to do to hide the sounds of the monsters lurking above.

You just want your papa- no, you need your papa.

You need to hear his voice again, sure, technically you hear it every day but it's not the same!

You need to hear him.

You've taken to replaying audio recordings through your own mask.

Laying in your bed late into the night, replaying the same video's until your papa's voice lulls you into an uneasy sleep...

....................................

My thoughts for you my dearest! (/p) free of charge!

I plan on writing some fluffy Papa Leo oneshots sometime soon, not to worry!

For now, have these!

[19180901]

⤵ I think of her so much, it drives me crazy...

. . 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 .ᐟ

✃ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

✣ . Lloyd x anti-hero!fem!reader.

Reader description:

➟ Y/n is an anti-hero and wanted woman that has a pretty long record of crimes. It’s not big crimes like murdering someone or stuff like that, small crimes that are still considered crimes and are obviously punishable. Nonetheless, she still does good things such as helping people that need assistance, giving back that one old woman her purse that got stolen, yeah. Such a girlboss fr

➟ CW: Relationship moves pretty fast (it's Ninjago, what do you expect? Slowburns?), fights, minor injuries.

F/n = Fake name

There's like 5k+ words idk

A/N: ( Sorry for all the fem readers in my posts! I'll try making more diverse readers in my future works. <3)

I'm not making a part two (this is already long enough). The ending is up to you :)

IMPORTANT A/N REGARDING THE STORY AT THE END PLS READ

- <3

8:37 AMㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ87%

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGoMessage

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

KAI WHERE ARE YOU WE’RE GETTING COOKED ALIVE IN THE DUNGEON

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwhat

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

wdym what

come help us or smth wtf

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwho tf r u

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

don’t tell me you still didn’t save my number you idiot

if we die im gonna tell master wu it’s your fault

You stared at your screen, incredibly confused as you tried to figure out who just texted you and called you by the name of the Master of Fire. But based on what they said, it is most likely one of the famous Ninjas. And that Ninja is probably dying and is gonna die thinking you’re the fire Ninja. You contemplated whether you should tell him you are, in fact, not his friend, saving him and whoever’s with him from whatever is happening to them.

Or you could pretend you were Kai.

One life, you thought with a mischievous smirk visibly displayed on your face. You were bored as fuck so you decided to go with the second option, that is possibly gonna lead to the death of the well-loved heroes of Ninjago. But who cares? Definitely not you. Causing the death of a ninja is gonna look great on your criminal record. Well, if you ever get caught. For some reason, the police was never able to catch you. Dumbasses.

You thought a bit about how Kai would answer this message.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ——————

08:39 AMㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ86%

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGoMessage

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOHH yeah right haha sorry i’m just kinda feeling in a silly goofy mood rn

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ dw i’m coming

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

HURRY UP

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwhere r u btw

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

what

are you dumb

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyes i am

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnow send me the location mf or i’m leaving you to die

ㅤ

+81 75 253 4823

i’m too important to die but ok

(insert location)

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤalrr i’ll be there in like 5 minutes

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRead at 8:41

ㅤ

You felt bad that he’d be waiting for no one to save him from his doom so with what energy was left in you, you got up and quickly slipped on your criminal outfit. Yes, you had an outfit for your crimes because you gotta look good while doing them. And yes, you were going to save the ninja’s asses even if you felt too lazy to do it. You vaguely brushed out some knots in your hair and went out, getting on your motorcycle. You checked the location again and headed straight for it. It wasn’t very far so you could arrive there pretty soon.

You stopped your bike as you took in the scenery. A huge temple with lots of intricate and symbolic designs all over, with unlit torches on the poles that was holding the roof thingy, whatever it’s called. You wasted no time and carefully entered the decaying place, trying not to move or break anything, scared that the place would crumble down on you or something. The Ninja said that they were in the dungeon. But where the fuck is the dungeon?

You looked around with a sketchy face and noticed stairs going down. Since there was no other place to go, there was no doubt they went down there. Again, you carefully went down, alert of your surroundings. You arrived in some sort of tunnel with lots of torches placed in holes in the wall. You went through the tunnel and, unsurprisingly, there were arrows stuck everywhere on the walls, massive holes on the ground, giant axes that were destroyed displayed on the floor. It was very evident that these were traps activated by someone, most likely the Ninjas.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of them helplessly dodging the arrows and other traps. Unlike them, you made sure not to trigger any more traps and safely got to what seemed like giant doors. Giant doors that were half open. You took a peek inside and, sure enough, on the ceiling, gripping the stone bricks with such force were the Green and Silver Ninja, also known as Lloyd and Nya, trying not to die from the rising lava that was about to fill the room. You tried your best to hold in your laugh as you watched them struggle. After taking your phone and quickly snapping a picture, you looked around for any ways to get them out of here. Then you caught sight of stone slabs on the walls that looked like they would fall any minute. You took out a grappling hook and shot at each of the stone slabs so they would fall on the lava and make some kind of platform for the Ninja to land on.

Lloyd and Nya looked at the door but they couldn’t see their friend. But they thought nothing of it, only thinking about their survival and jumped on the stone platforms created by their “friend”. They quickly reached the door and gasped upon seeing that it was, in fact, not Kai that saved them, but some random person that they did not recognize.

“Who are you??” Yelled Nya angrily. You literally just saved their lives. Why is she mad?

“Oh come on I just saved your asses, be grateful I didn’t leave you there to die, because I definitely could’ve. Now if you don’t want the lava to fill the entire temple and kill you then we better move. I’ll explain when we get out, follow me!” You ran in the tunnel towards the stairs as the two others followed you. They exchanged unsure glances but it was true that the temple was about to be destroyed. The lava was rising quickly, quicker than you thought. The three of you hurried out, and, thank the First Spinjitzu Master that you got out before the lava reached you. All of you jumped out and, as if on cue, the old building blew up, for some reason (probably some hidden explosives). You were all out of breath. The adrenaline rush made you run faster than usual. You made a mental note to never answer texts asking for help.

Lloyd regained his breath and looked at you. “Who are you? How did you know we were here? And where’s kai?” You glanced back at him and let out a slightly dramatized but exasperated sigh. How did he not notice that he texted the wrong number? Even your dumbass would’ve noticed.

“Well, sir Green Ninja, it appears that instead of texting your little ninja friend, you have texted some random number that just happened to be me. And I couldn’t just leave you to die, even if I could, so with great effort, I came here to save your butts. Anyway, a thank you would’ve been appreciated.” You remarked and put your hands on your hips.

Nya looked at Lloyd with an annoyed expression, and upon seeing the sour look on his partner’s face, he sheepishly giggled. Nya sighed and looked back at you. “Thank you for saving us. We owe you a lot.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing,” you smiled at them. Lloyd looked at you with a perplexed look. Why did you look so familiar? He swears he’s seen you before somewhere. But where? And why?

“Well then, I better get going. I’ll see you around maybe! I hope not…” You greeted the Ninjas and muttered the last part under your breath. As much as you would’ve wanted to see them around, you didn’t want to be caught by the police and spend the rest of your days in prison.

“Yeah, bye!”

Then it clicked. Now he remembers where he’s seen you before. You’re wanted all around Ninjago and they were often tasked with finding and catching you where there have been sightings of you.

"Hey! You're that criminal that's wanted everywhere!" Yelled the Green Ninja at you. You slowly turned your head to look at him and grinned. Then you fully turned around and crossed your arms. “Heh. I thought you would’ve never noticed.” You chuckled. Lloyd and Nya went into a fighting stance and glared at you.

“Oh come on, why the mean face? I just saved you.” You sighed. “I don’t intend to fight you. I’m not completely evil y’know. I do good stuff too.” You rolled your eyes boredly and walked back to your motorcycle and jumped on it. Lloyd was about to follow when the woman beside him stopped him. He looked at her with a confused look and she shook her head. “I think she isn’t lying. If she was completely evil, she wouldn’t have saved us. And besides, not reporting her to the police is the least we could do in return.”

They both looked at you and saw you smiling innocently at them, before you turned on the engine, put on your helmet and left. The green dude sighed and looked at your distancing figure. He decided to trust Nya and let you go. He’ll catch you another day. Or will he?

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It’s been, what, 3 days? A week since you saved the Ninjas? You didn’t keep track of time, to be frank. You had nothing to do and life seemed like it was worth nothing. You were laying on your couch watching the new series that just came out, For a tomorrow without tears (i made that up, it's not real pls). Basically it was about a girl who’s life was pretty much shit and she cries everyday because of that. You thought it would be bad but it was actually interesting and now you’re hooked.

You lived in a secret underground basement that was well hidden. It was under Laughy’s Karaoke Club, and the entrance was behind said place. There was a small, unnoticeable button that could only be pressed by you, since it recognizes digital fingerprints. So if anyone else finds the button somehow, it would not work.You were pretty proud of it since you installed the system yourself.

You had nothing to do. How about stealing random kids’ candy? No, you already did that yesterday. Their cries felt so good to hear. I could start a chase with the police. Eh, you didn’t feel like running or doing anything physically demanding. Since when did life get so boring? You had so much to do before you rescued the Ninjas.

You decided to slip on the first outfit that you picked up from the floor and got out of your secret base after taking your time (for once) and tying your hair into something decent. You put on a mask that covers your whole face so you won’t be immediately recognized. Leaving, you made sure no one was around to discover your hidden hideout.

You decided to simply take a stroll around the city, looking for something to do. Some crimes maybe. Or help people. Whatever. It was broad daylight so you didn’t expect to see the Ninjas today. Hopefully they weren’t here. You walked past an alley and heard yells. You didn’t notice until you realized someone was screaming, and walked backwards to check in the alleway. There, cowering in fear, stood two teenage girls surrounded by some thugs that probably wanted their money or something, the usual basically.

You calmly walked into the alley and started to speak. “Damn, thugs stealing kids’ money in a secluded alleyway? Probably the most cliché thing I’ve encountered today.” The men looked at you and glared. “Get her!” Ordered what seemed to be their leader. One of them charged at you and you skillfully dodged him, grabbing his left arm and bending it in a way that’ll leave him trembling and screaming for his mom. He howled in pain and you smirked. The other thugs looked at each other with worried glances. Hesitantly, they also lunged at you. Throwing a kick and punch there, they were both defeated in less than a second. Hah, weak.

The only one left was the leader. He looked at you with such fear anyone would’ve thought you were Garmadon or the Overlord, or something. He took out a dagger and tried to hit you with it. To your fortune, he was too slow. You expected better for a leader. You kicked your leg at his arm and, surprisingly, he dodged it and impaled your thigh with his dagger. You hissed in pain and recoiled your leg. You glared at him and threw punches in his face and when he was taking in the pain in his face, you took the chance and kicked the dagger out of his hand. Swiftly, you took the weapon and went behind him, putting the dagger to his neck.

“Well, well. Didn’t expect you to actually do damage. You’re stronger than I thought, but too weak to be able to defeat me.” The dagger still on his neck, you threw a punch at him from behind and he passed out. You exhaled and looked at the teenage girls, who had bewildered looks on their faces. You looked through the leader and took the bags and purses of the girls. You gave them back their belongings and one of them started to sob into tears of joy and relief, very much to your dismay.

“T-thank you.. sniff for saving u-us! What can we do f-for you in return?” Thanked the sobbing girl. You awkwardly chuckled and waved your hand. “Eh, just stay safe for me, will ya’? Don’t wanna come to your rescue again.” They smiled and bowed to you before going their way. But just as they were turning their backs, a ninja came out of nowhere and looked at the scene. It was the Green Ninja, again, much to your dismay. He looked at the knocked out thugs behind you and looked at you. Then he looked at the girls, then back at you.

“Did you knock out those dudes?” He crossed his arms as he queried. An imaginary drop of sweat slid down your forehead behind your mask and you nervously tittered. His presence made you so uneasy all of a sudden.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I did.” The girls squealed in excitement and ran out the alleyway, for some reason. You thought they would’ve asked for the celery man’s autograph or something, but no, they straight up ran away. The said man looked at you, then walked in your direction. He stopped in front of you and he crossed his arms, again. “Don’t think I don’t recognize you, F/n." You raised an eyebrow at him then smirked, dramatically taking off your mask. “And here I thought no one would find out I’m me! My, am I in such distress.” You said, even more dramatically and put a hand on your forehead, to make it even more dramatic. He just rolled his eyes, even if you couldn’t see it.

You cleared your throat. “So.... are you gonna.. kidnap me and deliver me to the police or something?” You awkwardly asked and put your hands behind your head as you strayed not too far away. All you did was stare at each other for the past 20 seconds and it was very awkward. The height difference didn’t make things any better.

Then you remembered that the thug stabbed your thigh. And it was bleeding and staining your clothes. You gritted your teeth in pain. Why was it now that you felt the pain? You started to feel slightly lightheaded but played it off (successfully).

“What? No! I’m not gonna kidnap you.” He gushed and looked at you, surprised by your sudden question. “Then what? Am I not supposed to be wanted? You know, this is the moment where you’re supposed to tie my hands up, pick me up on your shoulder, aggressively deposit me at the police station and mysteriously disappear. I actually thought you’d be interesting. I must say, I’m disappointed.” You told him off with a hearty laugh as you turned back to look at him. You started to feel more and more dizzy as the seconds went by. Shit. What if you passed out in front of him? Shit.

He looked down with a perplexed gaze. This was greatly troubling, for sure. What was he supposed to do? Turn you in? You saved these girls before he could even arrive at the scene. But you also saved him. You weren’t evil or mean, like how everyone thinks you are. You may be a criminal, but that’s not what you do 25/8.

That's when he noticed your leg. He gasped. You were bleeding like crazy! How did he not notice this sooner? And why did you seem so calm and nonchalant about it??

"Your- your leg- !" He tried to warn you but you put a finger to his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm gonna go back to my place and treat it, don't worry." You reassured him, but he didn't believe you. It has probably been some time that you started bleeding, and at this point you should've passed out from the blood loss.

God, why did he even care? It's not like you're close or anything… But still. Strangely enough, he felt the need to help you. Not because it's probably just common decency, but for something else.

But his thoughts were interrupted when you tried to walk away. "I'm going back so- so uh… yeah. Stay safe out there.. It's not… It's not safe-" You stopped talking when black dots covered your vision, and you felt yourself go limp. You didn't know what happened next because you just passed out (finally).

Lloyd hurriedly caught you before you could hit the floor. Now what was he supposed to do? He can't get you to the hospital because you're gonna go straight to prison after being treated. He doesn't know where you live. He sighed as he realized he had no other choice but to take you back to the Bounty. The others will surely understand his situation, right?

"Pixal, do you copy?" Spoke Lloyd into his mic thingy. I don't know what it's called.

"Loud and clear, Lloyd. What is it?"

"I'm gonna need you to come pick me up… I'm kind of, uh.. stuck." He chuckled, uneasy. "I'll meet you on the roof of the building on-” He checked their location. “-Elemental Avenue, 451."

"On it."

Lloyd shifted so that he could carry you bridal style. He then jumped on the emergency stairs on the side of buildings and made his way on the rooftop. A minute or two passed, and the Bounty arrived. He climbed in and set the woman down, still having an arm below your head.

He looked up and saw Pixal and Nya coming his way. They both gasped at your sight. "What happened?" Panicked Nya, while Pixal rushed to get the medications and bandages needed.

"Long story…" He half-smiled at his teammate then glanced at you. Why did he feel so worried? He shouldn’t be worried. He shouldn’t care. He thought that it was normal since it was his duty to help the citizens of Ninjago, but you. You? You're a criminal! He can't care for you. He would've dropped you off at the hospital normally, but he didn't like the idea of you ending up in prison after being treated.

What. What? Why didn't he like you being in prison? They spend 50% of their time trying to find you and put you in a jail cell and here he was, not liking you being in prison. What the fuck.

The female nindroid came back a minute later with the med kit. It was only now that they realized they had to remove your pants to treat you. Lloyd unconsciously reddened. Nya carried you to a room with Pixal behind her, still carrying the med kit. They left, leaving poor Lloyd alone with his thoughts that grew more and more overwhelming and obvious each passing second.

Once you were in a different room, the Water Ninja set you down on the bed and gently slid down your pants. The gash was quite big. And your pants were full of blood. She made a mental note to wash it for her. Nya backed away and let her friend do the rest.

Said girl cleaned the blood before applying disinfectant on a piece of cotton and wiping your injury. She couldn't just put a band-aid on the cut. It was pretty large and quite deep.pretty damn deep. She will need to stitch it. Pixal took out a medical sew and sutures to stitch your wound.

An hour or two had passed, and the three girls were still in the room. Lloyd grew more and more anxious. He was about to knock on the door when it opened before he had the chance to. Nya shook her head as she chuckled at the celery man. He looked at her with an expectant gaze.

"Don't worry, she's fine. She'll wake up soon." Comforted the woman. Lloyd sighed in relief and crossed his arms.

“Why didn’t you drop her off at the hospital? They would have treated her and taken her to Kryptarium Prison.”

Lloyd flinched. What was he gonna tell her? He doesn’t even know why himself.

The Water Ninja raised an eyebrow at her comrade. Then she sniggered at him in realization. “Oh~ I get it. You have a crush on a criminal that we met only a week ago.” She continued laughing at the poor vegetable dude. The latter blushed and immediately denied.

“What!? No! Never. A crush? On her? Pff-” He tried to reason, but it was futile. Deep down he knew it was true, but he’d never admit it to anyone, or himself. Nya rolled her eyes with a smile and went her way to the control room.

Lloyd took a deep breath, and went into the room where you were in a deep slumber. He stared into your sleeping figure. What if Nya was right? What if he truly did have a crush on you? What is he gonna do? The others can’t know about this. They were gonna bully the fuck out of him. The more he thinks about it, the weirder he feels about you. Not the bad kind of weird. The.. weird kind of weird.

The green-obsessed man had nothing to do for the moment, so he decided to wait for you to wake up. He took a chair and sat down beside you. Before he knew it, he, too, was falling asleep.

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You woke up to loud snoring. You looked around, sitting up. Lloyd was sleeping on a chair and he was snoring like a father taking a nap.

Wait, what? What’s Lloyd doing in your room?

Then you realized that you weren’t in your room. You tried to recall what happened.

Oh yeah. You passed out. Shouldn't you be in the hospital, though? What the fuck are you doing in.. wherever you are?

You got up from the bed and hissed. You felt something around your thigh. Someone bandaged your wound. You glanced back at the sleeping man beside you. With much pain and energy, you walked towards him and aggressively shook him. “BITCHASS WAKE UP WHERE AM I?”

Vegetable man jolted back up. He rubbed his eyes from his sleep and glared at you. Then he realized you were standing. With an injured leg. “What- Why are you standing?? You should be in bed!” He pushed you back to bed and scolded you. “I don’t need to stay in bed! Answer my question. Where am I?” You angrily responded from where you seated on the bed. You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Wait, since when did he get so tall? And so intimidating? You gulped but still kept up a confident figure.

The Green man sighed exasperatedly and looked at you in disdain while putting his hands on his hips. “You’re on the Destiny's Bounty. And don’t worry, I’m.. not the one who cleaned your cut.” He reassured you and you could’ve sworn his face was just the slightest bit of red.

Your breath started to hitch seeing him blush. He looked kind of cute like that.

What?

You shook off the thought and stood up again, much to Lloyd’s dismay. “Where are we?”

“On The Bounty. We can drop you off at yours, if you want?”

“And tell you the location of my secret hideout? No thanks. Just drop me off where we are, I’ll find my way back.” You limped towards the door onto the deck. He strode towards your limping figure and put your arm over his shoulder and helped you walk. “Are you sure? What if you get attacked or something? You won’t be able to fight like that.” He tried to convince you but of course, you denied. But the dude persisted and got on your nerves, so you told him to land you off at Laughy’s.

“Alright then.”

He left you to go to the control room. You looked down at the city and were left agape. Ninjago City looked so beautiful at night, especially from this view. You started to think about Lloyd.

“What if you get attacked or something?”

Why does he care? It’s totally not like you weren’t supposed to be rotting in prison.

10 minutes went by and you were still thinking about him. You realized and reddened. God, why were you thinking so much about him? It’s not like you liked him or anything… That would be weird. Wouldn't it?

“...Be careful, alright?” You looked at Lloyd and smiled, before going your way behind the Club. You made sure The Bounty left and you were out of sight and you went back to your base. You pushed the button on the wall with your index finger, and a door opened. You looked around for any sign of people, and went down the stairs leading to your hideout.

Once you were in, you immediately propped yourself onto your bed. Man, today was a long day. So much happened, but at the same time, so little did. You turned around so you would be facing the ceiling. You thought about Lloyd. Why did he say all those things? Did he mean it? Why is he actually kinda...

You turned around once again and screamed into your pillow. What the fuck was up with you? Did he poison you or something? Or used his weird green power thing to corrupt your mind? So many questions, but so little answers.

You fell asleep still thinking about the vegetable man.

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“LLOYD’S GOT A CRUSH Y’ALL!!”

The people in the room flinched as a certain blue ninja barged in the room. They shared incredibly confused glances before Kai, the Fire Ninja, looked at his teammate in disbelief and surprise.

“Wait wait, what- wait, WHAT?” He said, absolutely and utterly baffled at the fact that their traumatized little bro is actually in love (ignore harumi, she does not exist. fuck harumi btw) with someone. “Spill it! Who is it?”

“Remember F/n? That criminal the police make us search for but we can’t find her?”

“Don’t tell me he likes her!? ” Cole butted in, equally as bewildered as his friend.

The three of them looked at each other before breaking down in a fit of laughter.

Upon hearing the abnormally loud noise coming from the living room, Lloyd entered the room seeing the Red, Blue and Black Ninjas laughing as if they just saw a cockroach pissing on Zane or something. He raised an eyebrow and stared at them questioningly. What was so funny they were guffawing to their doom?

Kai tried to explain but couldn’t, as every time he opened his mouth only a wheeze came out. Cole, being the calmest in the room (but still howling in laughter), explained the situation to the poor boy.

“You- You like F/n??” He pointed at him before laughing just as hard as his comrades.

Lloyd’s eyes widened impossibly in surprise and waved his hands around as he denied the statement with all his might. “What? No! What- Who told you such nonsense? I don’t like F/n! I don’t.”

“Okay okay, but seriously dude. Her? Come on, There’s like, what? 5 billion people in Ninjago? I know you can do so much better!” Jay teasingly punched Lloyd’s arm.

“What? She’s not that bad… She’s actually nice. And what do you mean I can do so much better??” He glared at the boys before realizing what he just said.

“Haha, you admit it! Don’t worry bro, we got you.”

“What- I don’t like her!” He hid his face in his hands in aggravation, but the burning blush visibly displayed on his face said otherwise. “Why don’t you get it?” He looked up and glared at them. They snickered at him in response.

“Ask her out! I’m sure she’ll say yes.” Cole suggested, but his suggestion was quickly turned down by embarrassed Lloyd.

“Huh? No way! She doesn’t look like the type to be into that stuff anyway..” Said boy looked down and scratched his nape. “And besides, we only met like, 3 times. I can’t just ask her out like that.”

“How about you just tell her you wanted to go out as friends or something?”

“Yeah! And then you become friends, then you become good friends, then you crush on each other, then you’re a couple, then you get married and then you have kids- OW??”

Jay was cut off when Kai punched him on the back of his head. Lloyd groaned and sat down on the couch while slouching.

Then something came to the Master of Earth’s mind. “Do you at least have her number?”

Lloyd thought for a bit. “Actually, yeah. But she didn’t exactly give it to me. Remember that time me and Nya had a mission in Sunsetra’s Temple (i also made that up don’t judge me pls)? We, uh… kinda got stuck in a room with rising lava and I tried to text Kai for help, but somehow I texted some other number that ended up being F/n’s. We thought Kai would come but she came instead and yeah, that’s how I have her number. And also how we met.” The green-wearing boy explained, and leaned back while putting his hands behind his head.

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“You’re… fucking stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dude, just go text her! Get out! Shoo shoo! Don’t come back until she says whether she’ll go out with you or not!” Jay, quite literally, kicked Lloyd out of the living room. “Ah… Children grow up so fast.” He said, wiping an imaginary tear out of his eye as if he was in some dramatic k-drama or something. The two other boys in the room facepalmed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ——————

09:12 AMㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ62%

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGoMessage

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤUh

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤHey

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ(Sent at 09:12 PM)

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+81 54 553 6978

who is this

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIt’s Lloyd

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+81 54 553 6978

why ar eyou texting me at 9 pm??

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI have a question

ㅤ

+81 54 553 6978

is it important?

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ It is of the utmost importance, yes

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+81 54 553 6978

what’s so important? are you dtrying to distract me so you have the time to trackd my numbef down or smth to find my location and send me to th epolice???

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ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤYou know I could’ve done that ages ago?

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤAlso why are you texting like that wtf

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+81 54 553 6978

yes but we never know.

and why not smh🖕

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYou text just like Jay

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+81 54 553 6978

is that a compliment or an insult

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Depends

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+81 54 553 6978

well thank you then 😘

anyways what did you want to ask me?

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOh I forgot about that

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤWell, It’s kind of embarrassing but

ㅤI wanted to ask if we could go out sometimes…

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+81 54 553 6978

omg

like a date??

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIf you want to, I guess

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+81 54 553 6978

We spoke like twice in our lifetime so

yes you’re right, that is embarrassin LMAAOA

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIs that a no?

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+81 54 553 6978

no actually

yes lloyd, i’ll go out with you 🤧

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWow

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI didn’t think you’d actually say yes

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Y/n :)

tbh me neither but i’m giving you a chance bc im just nice like that👍

when and wehre di we meet??

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ㅤㅤ ㅤI was thinking about the amusement park?

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤYou seem like the type to go there a lot

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Y/n :)

i unfortunately don’t hav the chance to go because I’ll most likely get arrested

but yes you’re right😋

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤOkay then, I’ll meet you there at uhh

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTuesday at 3:00 PM?

Y/n :)

actually, how about we go somewhere calmer?

i have a mission tuesday morning and i’ll probabaly b etoo drained for an amusement park hahahaj…

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOh of course, that’s fine :)

ㅤㅤㅤ How about the new café that just opened?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIt’s pretty calm there

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI think

ㅤ

Y/n :)

very cliché but yes i would love that :))

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAlright, the new café at 3:00 PM?

ㅤ

Y/n :)

yup 👍

see you on tuesday <33

❤️ Liked by Lloyd

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ See you <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ❤️ Liked by Y/n :)

ㅤ

Lloyd grinned at the “<3” you sent and propped himself onto his bed, and tightly hugged his pillow as his thoughts grew to be more and more about you.

One thing he knew for sure was that he most certainly looked forward to your date.

✃ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

⤴ I JUST DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE ME

A/N: I changed Lloyd's texting style purposely between the chat where he thought Y/n was Kai and when he knew it was Y/n. He texted differently because he thought it would impress Y/n, just a little HC of mine💪💪

© legoffection. Please do not repost my work on any platforms, plagiarize and heavily edit my work under any condition!

[calliopechild]

Tell me about your 2k12 Rat King fic!

(link to the original post for this WIP game here)

So! This is one of those fics that started as one idea, which then cannibalized another idea and merged into a whole new damn thing. While I enjoyed the creep factor of how the Rat King thing went in canon, the angst gremlin in my brain seized on that and went 'yeah, having to fight your own mind-controlled family member is obviously awful--but what if you didn't know there was anything to even fight?'

This fic is exploring a what-if scenario of the Rat King's mind control of Splinter being a really subtle thing. He sinks his hooks into Splinter and just watches, long enough to know how to mimic him convincingly, and then starts slowly pushing the envelope, mainly targeting Leo. His orders get a bit more demanding, a bit harsher, put the boys in a bit more danger, sending them on missions that help him (the Rat King) rather than them. So it's an exploration of Leo as the frog in the boiling pot, of what it takes for him to go 'hey this has gotten kinda fucked up' (which, as we've seen with canon, is, uh...you gotta go pretty far to cross that line). But it's also a look from Raph, Donnie, and Mikey's perspective of what Leo will accept when it's aimed at him vs. when it's them getting hurt instead, and when/how you step up to protect your protector.

But because one flavor of angst isn't enough, Splinter figures out he's being mind controlled/possessed--but not right away. It takes a while, because at first the whispers in his head sound reasonable; their clan is at war, his sons are being targeted, they need to be pushed a little harder so they're prepared. So he has to come to grips with the realization that not only can he not really pinpoint when the orders finally started setting his own internal alarms off, but his sons don't even question some of the things he puts them through as being out of character.

It's all these fun twisty threads to play with of how monstrous would you have to become for your loved ones to finally realize you're not you? how do you live with the answer to that question? how do they?

(Snippet time bc damn that got long-winded.)

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

"You cannot torment yourself with 'what ifs,' my son. Doubt will only slow you back when you can least afford it."

"I know, Sensei, but...but what if it had been Mikey?"

"Michelangelo is no less a warrior than you are, Leonardo. He cannot be protected all his life."

The words make Leo go cold to his bones. Mikey has always existed in that particular baby brother position of somehow above in value and below in status, both of which are tied to how much he must be protected and cannot be lost. If Mikey is no less a warrior than him, then that means Splinter could ask of Mikey the things he asks of Leo.

Something in him violently rejects that idea—and that instinctive reaction sends him reeling, because why would it be so bad? Nothing Splinter has done to or asked of him has been that bad, has it?

(He tries not to hear the echo of no matter what--or who--you must sacrifice. There's no way Master Splinter would mean that for Mikey. He didn't even mean it badly for Leo, it was just...Leo had asked for this, for being the leader. And if things went badly enough that someone needed to--to take the fall, well, it had probably been because of one of Leo's plans in the first place, right?

It was just different for him than it was for Mikey. Master Splinter knew that.

Right?)

[toukatan]

You read every gojohime fic???? That's amazing!!! What are your favourites?

hello anonie! i guess i can say i’ve read at least a good 80% of all the fics, at least. probably. most likely because the fic tag at the start of the year was tiny and now the community’s grown so much there’s almost 600 of them. that’s insane to me. like hello?

i have a lotta fics that come to mind, that i should honestly make a master post on because i love them all. so here are a few many that came to mind immediately as i typed this up.

gojohime fic recommendations!

multichapter

limitations by ohmytheon 

“Parenthood chooses you," her mother used to tell her, but Utahime never understood that saying more than the moment she realized she was pregnant with Gojo Satoru's child. They were never meant to be something serious - never meant to be more than they were - and yet they both suddenly find themselves in a world that doesn't care about their desires - and that brings them closer in a way that no one else can understand. It won't be easy and it won't be kind to either of them, but it appears as if the universe has other plans for them

no one is what they were before by ohmytheon 

The world broke when Gojo Satoru turned on jujutsu society. It's not the hopeful place it was before, but Utahime has never been one to give up. Until she's placed in a dangerous position directly in his path, and she finds herself trapped in a web that doesn't seem intent on ever letting her go.

and touch me like you never by ohmytheon 

In public, Gojo is a special grade bastard, especially to Utahime, and has been all their lives. He knows exactly what insults to throw and what buttons to push to drive her up a wall. In private, however, he's got quite a few other things to tell and show her, which only makes things more confusing. It would be easier if she could avoid him entirely, but for some reason, he won't let her go entirely.

gravity by aerfei

This is Utahime, fierce and indomitable, and this is Satoru, who despite holding the world’s regard, still craves something that Utahime has had all her life. Coming together is sometimes an act of desperation, and sometimes a deliberate choice. Or: An Iori Utahime character study, through the lens of her relationship with Gojo Satoru, starting from the beginning and ending at the Goodwill Event arc. Manga spoilers and (at least 95%) canon-compliant through (at least) chapter 135.

count every single leaf in autumn by florieneofthesea

“I told my family we’re dating.” Utahime’s hand hovers over the door. “What?!” (or: Gojo tells his family that he's dating Utahime to get them off his back, so of course they invite her to the dreaded family dinner™)

favourite colour by otherthingsonhold

At 28, Satoru Gojo's responsibilities only start to multiply. With his clan looking to him to lead the family, and the balance of the universe in his hands, Gojo isn't thinking of much else. But when his mother brings something to his attention, the only thing Gojo can do is follow through. But how is Utahime Iori part of all of this?

gojo catoru by ashittywriter

Utahime is tasked to catsit a suspiciously large Persian dollface cat with pristine white hair, the most boop-able nose, and to top it off the cutest cerulean eyes. Too bad the cat also happens to be her idiotic colleague Gojo Satoru.

at the tail-end of spring by florieneofthesea

Utahime doesn't expect to remember her ex's number off by heart but it comes in handy when she's a little less than sober outside a club in a city she's not familiar with and her battery on three percent. She just wishes things turned out differently for them. (Or, post-break up exploration where outer forces refuse to let them have their happy ending.)

a second chance by onewordmore

In another world, it wasn't Geto who sneered down at humanity, regarding them to be worthless monkeys that deserved to die. In another world, it wasn't Geto who openly defied the Jujutsu Council and brought down terror and fear to all. In another world, it wasn't just Amanai Riko who died that day, amidst the cheers and delighted cries of the insane. And Utahime was going to learn, first hand, the consequences of her own death.

from you to me by onewordmore

A drabble series regarding Gojo and Utahime. From fluff to smut to angst to love. This is going to have it all.

oneshots

oceansize by aerfei

The marriage is arranged by their families, small clans both, with all their hopes and traditions laid gently upon the shoulders of their only heirs -- and yet, this distance is impassable.

under the cover of darkness by ohmytheon

It takes a little alcohol, early morning hours, and a game of truth or dare for Gojo and Utahime to admit some difficult truths to each other.

risk/reward by ohmytheon 

No punishment had ever been more effective in making Gojo do his actual job than receiving praise from his secretary - or more grueling than when Utahime withheld it.

like a good roommate by ohmytheon

Utahime has a problem: her bed wasn't delivered to the new apartment. Her ridiculous roommate, Gojo, has a solution - but he's kind of panicking on the inside.

aware of us by halspur 

“We did alright, didn’t we?” Gojo put his phone down after taking several dozen photos of Tsumiki walking across the stage, his eyes soft. “I mean, we were just kids, too.”

love song by halspur

“Because you’re weak.” Gojo said, muffled into the thin skin of her throat. “I can’t leave you alone.”

tear you apart by halspur

“I don’t want to be mean to you,” Utahime’s cheek was pressed into his spine, her voice muffled. “I like you.”

cuddles are for clean boyfriends by just_trying_my_best_everyday

Utahime finds Gojo Satoru sitting right behind the door, blindfold hanging on his neck, completely soaked in blood and petting her cat with both hands. And he stinks.

honey by florieneofthesea

Gojo Satoru experiences love a decade before he fully realises it.

roots by florieneofthesea 

At the start of winter, Utahime starts to cough up blood. She thinks maybe its just the lingering damage from her last mission, but the coughing persists and it starts to scratch her throat, and itch at her lungs and when she finally makes the trip to Tokyo to ask Shoko for her help, she doesn't even get the first word out. Shoko welcomes her at the entrance to Tokyo Metropolitan Technical School and Utahime hacks up a single, pale blue petal, smattered with blood. She stares down at the flora on the ground and wonders if she's been cursed. Utahime looks up, and Shoko's eyes are wide.

to have and to hold by ashittywriter

“M’sorry," Gojo said his voice slurring at the end. "But please go away, I have a girlfriend." Utahime blinked in confusion. What the fuck? 

souvenir by PrettyKittyLuvsU

“Aha!” Gojo tugged something out of his pocket, his long fingers curled around it as he held his hand behind his back. His other hand waved before him, a cheeky grin splitting his lips. “Ora, ora! Hold out your hand.” Utahime stared flatly. “Ora, ora!” Gojo persisted, continuing to wave his hand as he grinned. “Hold out your hand already!” Utahime scowled at the hand swaying infront of her face. She had half a mind to slap the man instead, but her students were closely watching. Even Gojo’s students, the second years mainly—for Sukuna’s vessel was apologizing profusely as the brown haired girl continued kicking him while the quiet one made no effort to stop her— looked in fascination at whatever ridiculous souvenir Gojo wanted to hand her. Utahime slowly lifted her arm, already planning on throwing the thing back in Gojo’s annoying face. Gojo gets Utahime a very special kind of souvenir. Set during the start of the Goodwill arc.

dayum this exposes me huh? i do be reading a lot but what can i say i love to see it. all these fics are amazing, to the writers y’all are doing fantastically like my goodness you be really putting ya girl in a loop with some of these fics with your plot-lines and doing it flawlessly. can’t thank them enough for them, their hard work and time!

be sure to show the writers some love and support with comments, bookmarks and fight that dayum kudos button when it smiles at you because lemme leave more—

i think they’d really really appreciate it when they hear the bing and be sure to check out all of their stories including the ones in the pairing tag! happy readings 😙✨

[acesaurus]

Sorry to be a bother but I just discovered your blog today (and thank the lord that I did because I'm late to this fandom and seriously thought it was dead), what are your bmc headcanons??  I'm just curious djskdk (also sorry for sending this as a post but I'm unable to get a Tumblr account so I can'tsend an ask)

That's all good! I'm not really sure where to start and it's been a little bit since I've rewatched the musical. Gotta get on that. Anyways be prepared for some randomness.

First of all, (I'm most proud of this one) I like to think that Rich is the fashion master of the group. It started with the SQUIP transforming his sense of fashion and trying to get him to become friends with Brooke and Chloe. It didn't work as the SQUIP was hoping, but soon enough Brooke came up to Rich to ask where he got his yellow flannel and suddenly his whole friend group was based on Rich's fashion advice. After the squipcident, the squip squad begin to realize how much they've grown to rely on richs fashion advice and individually continue to ask him advice, not realizing that the squip was mainly in control of that. Nervous and unsure how to reply, Rich gives honest advice and his friends are like ??? But realize its 10x better than the advice he was giving when he had a squip and life is beautiful

I feel like Rich and Jenna are both 100% aware that when you mix Jake and Jeremy's last names you get 'deere' and use that to their full advantage

Book jeremy has a beanie baby squid named squip ironically

(I don't really like the books portrayal of most of the characters as much as I'm obsessed with the musicals depictions of the characters, but I like chloe having dyed red hair because it immediately makes me think of cat from victorious and I have trouble liking musical Chloe sometimes :/)

That being said I'm not a big Chloe fan and don't really ship her with anyone, but I kinda love the idea of her and Madeline having an enemies to lovers kinda thing

I hate how Jake and Chloe have an implied thing after the squip and i don't like it >:(

Jeremys squip began blocking Michael immediately like I like to imagine Michael just hanging out in the back of every song in between dywr and upgrade just vibin

Or more realistically and sadly trying to get jeremys attention in little ways that the squip blocks out

Also I'd like to know how many things the squip can do

Like if it can shock Jeremy and block his optic nerves what else can it do?

If it wanted to could it just kill him?

Sorry this turned into more of a rant ill try to get back on track now

Michael and rich always argue about the inferiority of the xbox

I imagine they had a conversation similar to this:

𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒉: 𝐻𝑒𝑦, 𝑀𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑒𝑙, 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡? 𝐽𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑢𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍: 𝑈𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒?

𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒉: 𝐶𝑜𝑜𝑙. 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑥𝑏𝑜𝑥 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛? 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝐽𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠.

𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍: 𝐷𝑖𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑥𝑏𝑜𝑥?

𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒉: 𝑌𝑒𝑎ℎ, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒?

𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍: 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡? 𝑁𝑜. 𝑋𝑏𝑜𝑥𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑.

*𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑡 :𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒*

Brooke has a golden retriever

Not a fan of the Pinkberry ship. I think its weird that Chloe treats Brooke like a dog so much, but it also says a lot about both of their characters just wish they didn't have to be like that you know

Actually thats kinda how I feel about a lot of the show I love all of the characters but I primarily just feel so bad for them

OH Jake is like a master baker... yeah.

He doesn't typically bake but its like his hidden talent (i say that but he probably has many)

Also rich spent sooo much time with his squip compared to Jeremy (depending on the timeline of it all idk if its a spring musical that starts in the beginning of the year for some reason or if it's only like a few months because I always felt like it was spring during voices in my head but thats also just the vibe the music gives me and has nothing to do with anything) so like how has that affected him compared to Jeremy and were their squips different? What made them different? Was roch constantly battling with his squip since he got it freshman year? Or was he friends with it until he began to see what jeremys had done to him? He began to mistrust it? Idk. Also its 100% kermit the frog right?

You know how the squips costume changes to slowly become darker and darker as the musical progresses, I imagine in richs head the squip becomes more and more like evil kermit until all of a sudden it comes out with an evil looking cloak.

Part of me kinda loves book Christine and the other part of me absolutely hates her

I love how kind and passionate musical Christine is though I feel like she would pack an extra lunch for rich because he would never bring one or grab a hot lunch and Christine was like :o dude you need to eat and would always ask him what he wants for lunch the next day

Chloe has really nice parents but was adopted and feels like she doesn't belong so she makes sure that she stands out above every one else

Idk I feel like somethings up with Chloe but I can't put my finger on it

Brooke is ironically 1/8 French

Are these even really headcannons anymore idk

Anyways I've been just saying a bunch of random stuff so I'm gonna stop here

Also btw I based most of this off the broadway version

Sorry this took so long I had to formulate my ideas

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  August Walker x OFC Freya (Forest Nymph) Original Female Character is described as white/pale, short and of small build, hazel eyes, long dark hair.

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of past abusive relationships, on the run, alcohol consumption, Daddy Kink, DD/LG, Pet names, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, hyperspermia, cum play, cum feeding, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy test.

Previous Parts: 

Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars. Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1 Vampire Walter: Chapter 2

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

The blood slowly trickled across the board and off the table, coating the floor before running into the drain. August raised the heavy cleaver, and with one thunderous swipe severed the femur clean in two. The cleaver made a metallic clang that echoed around the stark tile lined room, and wiping his hands on his apron he lifted the product of his work and inspected his efforts closely. A smile spread over his lips as he looked up;

“There we go Mrs Mackenzie, a nice juicy bone for your dog”

The old woman smiled, her purple tinted grey hair in tight curls that barely moved as she nodded;

“Oh yes, that’ll be perfect! My Clarence will love it!”

At that very moment Clarence started yapping outside where he was tied to the specials chalkboard that sat on the sidewalk outside Walkers Meats, 10lbs of teeth, fur and anger wrapped into the body of a small West Highland Terrier;

“I’m sure he will. I’ll wrap it up for you and Freya will finish ringing up your order for you. We’ll get it delivered this afternoon…”

August walked around the counter and set the wrapped bone into the box, nodding to his assistant to finish up the order. She knew that the bone would be free of charge, but that Mrs Mackenzie would insist on tipping and sliding her $10 which August was more than happy for Freya to keep. The slight girl turned and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, before she quietly nodded and continued with her duties.

Returning to the butchery area August glanced up and caught sight of his reflection in the painted mirror, the design obscuring the scarring on the side of his face, giving him that moment of relief from those memories of a past long ago, a life he had left behind when he had sought out quiet solitude in the peaceful mountain town of Blackwater Lake. People minded their own business there and didn’t ask questions. If you had a skill that could help others you were welcomed into the community. How August got into the meat business is a story for another day, but as his gaze travelled across the mirror to where Freya was measuring out the wild herb mixes into small mason jars he smiled and remembered instead how she came into his life.

-

Pulling the sign in from the sidewalk August was exhausted. Running a business completely on his own had seemed like a good idea when he’d started, he enjoyed his own company and he distrusted anyone else to do the job to a standard he would approve of. What he hadn’t counted on was the residents of this sleepy little town not only accepting him, but joyous that he was there and wanting to talk endlessly every time they visited his store. Although he was always polite and did his best to end conversations quickly, after eight hours of it he had jaw ache and knew he would need to work well into the night on the new sides of beef that had been delivered that morning if he were to have any stock to sell the next day. He glanced longingly at the small sign that sat propped up in the window; ‘Help Needed - Enquire Within’, yet he hadn’t had any takers in the month the sign had been up. 

The icy winter wind curled at his neck, sending a shiver down his spine as he let out a sigh, heaving the heavy sign into the building so it didn’t blow away in the night as a icy squall blew in from the mountains. As the door slammed shut behind him it echoed a knock around the store, but when it came again he turned and let out a far from masculine yelp; the face of a pale young woman stared back at him like a ghoul in the darkness. Clearing his throat and smoothing down his blue and white striped apron, he approached the door and opened it;

“May I help you Miss?”

She nodded down to the sign;

“Do you still need someone?”

Her teeth were chattering, and it was hardly surprising as she was barely dressed for the weather, the knitted cardigan doing little to ward off the cold wind. August opened the door to allow her to enter, looking down at the top of her head as she slunk past him.

“Let me get a pot of coffee on, you must be freezing”

As he disappeared into the back office he set the pot of coffee on to heat before grabbing an old jacket that was hanging on the back of the door, returning to where his visitor stood in the store a few moments later, handing her the jacket;

“Its cold in here, we can’t have the heat on because of the meat”

Nodding she took the jacket, her teeth still chattering;

“T-t-thanks… its still warmer than outside”

He handed her a mug of steaming coffee;

“Sorry, i don’t have any creamer or sugar…” She wrapped her delicate fingers around the mug using it more for heat than sustenance as he leant back against the counter on the other side of the store; “So… you’re wanting a job? What experience have you got? You worked in retail?”

She shook her head and muttered a quiet no, keeping her eyes averted from him as she spoke;

“But i will try anything… just looking for a new start”

“Are you running from something?” A gentle nod of her head and the way she clutched the mug tighter told August it was a someone not a something; “Look, if you’re willing to learn, work hard and pay attention, i’ll give you a trial. I’ve gotta level with you, you’re the only person who’s shown any interest in the sign, and i’m getting desperate, so if you want you can start tomorrow”

Her head snapped up and for the first time he saw her eyes, deep hazel peering out from behind long strands of dark brown hair;

“Really?”

“Yes. Really” he stated in a matter of fact way; “I’ll need to get your address and details for the wages…”

“Oh… i’m not… i’ve not got anywhere. I guess i’ll find a cheap motel…”

August paused;

“Kid, there’s no motel in town… at least not this time of year. But i might have a solution for you”

Her eyes widened in fear and August realised whatever she was running from had done more damage than she showed;

“No no, not that” he assured her; “There’s a small apartment above the shop - two in fact, i’ve got one and the other i’ve never rented out, never got round to it… its small but completely self contained, your own entrance and everything, completely secure”

Once a few forms had been filled out August had gotten the girl settled in the small studio apartment. He’d shown her how the fold out bed worked, explained that the hot water fed off the furnace for the whole building so she could use as much as she wanted. A couple of minutes after he’d left her in the apartment he knocked at her door, surprised to hear the locks sliding across at first, but then realising she needed to feel safe. When she peered around the door she almost looked surprised to see him there, as if it would be anyone else;

“Umm yeah?”

August handed her a box of things he’d scavenged from his own kitchen;

“Here’s just a few things to see you through the night… I haven’t been grocery shopping in a while, but the bread was in the freezer and it’ll defrost pretty quickly if you put it in the toaster”

He handed the box to Freya, surprised at how smooth but also small her hands were as she took it from him as they brushed against his own. She nodded and smiled;

“Thank you Mr Walker”

“Night. See you bright and early tomorrow morning” 

-

The next morning August woke to an insistent knocking on his door. Grumbling to himself he pulled on his robe and stalked across his small apartment, pulling the door open with a thunderous look on his face, ready to give whatever maniac that was knocking on his door at 5am a piece of his mind;

“WHAT THE… oh… hi…”

Freya was standing on his doormat, a look of shock on her face;

“Hi… i’m ready to start”

“To… start?”

“Work. You said bright and early”

August ran his palm over his face;

“I… When i said…” he let out a long slow breath; “I meant 8am”

“Oh.”

That was a long day, but by lunchtime Freya had mastered the cash desk and had already started to come out of her shell, the locals more than welcoming for the tiny girl with the woodland eyes, and with her help August was able to catch up on his work.

Over the following month her input had helped August expand his products, suggesting a range of seasonings in reusable jars, where if the customer returned the mason jar they’d get a discount off the next one they purchased. He discovered she had this unfathomable knowledge of herbs and plants, but also had this connection with nature he couldn’t quite understand. He’d sometimes catch her staring out of the window at the trees blowing in the wind, as if listening to their songs that were beyond his own ears.

One thing was for sure, there was a sense of magic to her and August thanked the stars above that she walked into his store on that cold winter night.

-

Back in the present August was busy cleaning the cutting table as Freya busied herself with her jars - it was her own little enterprise now and one she was absolutely proud of. He could see that she kept glancing outside, gnawing on her lip;

“Freya, everything ok?”

“Yes Mr Walker. I was just thinking, the next batch wild garlic is ready to be picked, if i collect some this afternoon i can have more chimichurri mixed ready for tomorrow, and that’s when the beef delivery is coming in”

August let out a chuckle;

“How many times do I have to say to call me August…” he met her gaze with a smile; “And yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea. The store’s quiet and i’ll be doing deliveries in a while, so sure, go exploring”

“Thank you Mr Walker”

August rolled his eyes and let out a laugh, watching as she hung up her apron and grabbed her foraging basket, skipping out of the door and towards the creek that fed into the lake a couple of miles away.

-

Three hours later August was driving back along the gravel road that led into town, having made his deliveries. The spring air was damp but warm, rain threatening to spill but the clouds unwilling to release their bounty just yet. Rounding the bend he looked out over the soft marshland, the grass knee high already and he saw a familiar figure stepping through the green undergrowth. With a smile he pulled his SUV to a stop at the side of the road, stepping out of the vehicle he leaned against the door as he watched Freya as she slowly made her way through the field, before she stopped as her attention moved to the treeline. Following her gaze he watched as a bear emerged from the woods and his heart sank. The native wildlife would be coming out of hibernation, and would be grumpy and hungry. He went to shout but a sudden rush of wind silenced his voice, watching as she held her arm out and the grass flattened in front of her as if a wind devil had made its way through. Glancing back to the bear it had stopped in its tracks but was still staring at her, but then started to circle around on the spot before settling down as if for a nap.

August anxiously watched, knowing if Freya ran she could make it to the car as long as the bear was weak, but he didn’t want to risk that it hadn’t had a belly full of salmon yet, so he quickly reached into the vehicle and pulled his unregistered handgun from beneath his seat. Back at the side of the road he raised the firearm at the bear, glancing at Freya who had now spotted him waiting for her. She started to quicken her pace through the grasses, eventually breaking into a run as she neared the embankment of the road. August glanced to where the bear had been and let out a yell as he saw it was starting to approach them;

“Freya, RUN!”

Doing as he instructed she broke into a sprint, her legs carrying her through the grass and up the embankment. Flinging his door open he motioned for her to dive in, her basket being launched into the passenger footwell as she tumbled across the centre console and into the passenger seat, August launching himself into the driver's seat and gunning the engine as he slammed the door shut, the urgent crunch of tyres on loose gravel dulling the sound of the grizzly’s roar as it had caught up, but was now rapidly disappearing into the distance of the rear view mirror.

August only slowed down as he reached the urban centre of Blackwater Lake, Freya’s breathing having finally levelled out as she turned to him;

“So… there’s bears here?”

He slowed the vehicle and pulled to a stop in a parking lot before turning to her;

“Yes. And moose and cougars and mountain lions… hell sometimes I even hear howls in the night so there’s probably something wolfy up in those mountains too… We need to get you better prepared for nature” August paused; “And what was that thing you did with your hand? That made the grass flatten and the bear sit down…”

Freya shrugged;

“I’m not sure… it's just this thing i’ve always been able to do, calm animals down”

“Huh. Didn’t seem to work this time…”

She glanced at him, her eyes wide;

“I think that was because you were there…”

August let out a laugh, before sitting back in his seat;

“Okay, point taken. I need a drink. We’re at Big-G’s, I'll buy you dinner…”

-

August regretted his decision. He hadn’t factored in how slight Freya was in comparison to her ability to consume alcohol, so three drinks later where all he’d had was lite beer, Freya was completely wasted. The giveaway was when she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder whilst he’d been talking to Geralt - the bar owner - and she’d started to drool on his shirt. Geralt had told him to ‘get his girl home’ with a wry laugh, telling August his meal was on the house. Something had stopped August from correcting the ashen haired man, looking down at the imp of the girl leaning on him. 

He’d managed to carry her to his car fairly easily but the journey up the steps at their building had been more of a challenge. He’d managed to get her to wrap her arms around his shoulders, but had been surprised when she’d also wrapped her legs around his waist. Although it meant he could use one arm to hold her up, the feel of her warm body clinging to his sent a rush of heat through his stomach straight to his groin, he was just thankful she was so out of it she didn’t notice the tent in his pants. 

As he juggled his keys he found the spare for her apartment but then thought better of it, unsure how she was when she’d had alcohol, and instead opened his own apartment. Crossing the almost dark room he reached the couch and slowly lowered her down to the cushions, her whimpers of loss as he started to pull away making him pause;

“Mmmm Daddy, you’re so warm…” 

Holding her still a low rumble slowly bubbled through his throat when she nuzzled against his neck;

“Daddy smells so good…” and she pressed a kiss to the stubble on his chin.

August knew she was drunk, probably didn’t even realise it was him, after all who would want someone as broken and scarred as he was, but for that briefest of moment’s he relished her touch and what was going on in her tequila addled mind. He couldn’t help himself and pressed the briefest of kiss to her cheek;

“Time to sleep now little Kitten” he muttered before reluctantly uncoupling himself from her grasp, pulling a blanket over her as she dozed on his couch. Raking his hand down his face he let out a sigh, before grabbing a glass of water and setting it onto the coffee table in front of her. A scribbled note on the back of a flyer explained that she was drunk and he wasn’t sure if she would need his help, and he didn’t want to invade her privacy of her own apartment.

Having poured himself a generous glass of vodka, August withdrew to his own bedroom, silently closing the door before stripping for bed. It was an early night but without the TV to entertain him and no desire to get lost in a book, he settled on top of the covers in just his underwear, sipping at the ice cold liquor as he willed the swelling of his loins to subside. However every time he tried to clear his mind, all he could imagine was Freya. The thought of her small body beneath his, their bodies sweaty and writhing as one. Finally with a curse he gave in to his desires, pulling his underwear down and taking his hard length into his hand, pumping dry to increase the friction as his mind descended further into taboo territory. He imagined it was her hand, calling him Daddy as she asked if she was doing it right, that her perfect lips would duck down and take his bulbous tip into her mouth, her tongue lapping at his slit as her hazel eyes would stare back up at him, wide with innocence. With a strangled cry he came in violent spurts, covering his hand and stomach in ropes of his cum, thoughts of the delicate woman in his lounge lapping at his spent seed prolonging his orgasm until he was aching and empty. With a curse he looked down at the mess he’d made, realising he needed to clean himself up.

-

The quiet click of his front door woke August the next morning, pushing himself up off the pillow as he heard small footsteps down the outside of the building and the quiet beep of his car being unlocked. Wondering what the hell was happening he leapt out of bed and peered out of the window, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw a dishevelled Freya gathering the wild garlic that had been scattered around his inside of his vehicle the day before.

A few minutes later the thud of his keys falling onto his doormat where she’d posted them through the letterbox sounded through his apartment, and when he went to collect them he found a small note with them;

‘Mr Walker, thank you for your help, I hope I didn't make a fool of myself last night. Your car stinks of garlic now, i’m going to walk up the creek and collect some herbs that will help reduce the odour, Freya x’

-

An hour later when she hadn’t returned, August set off towards the creek through the pleasant woodland, the sunlight leaving dappled patches of gold on the forest floor. Coming to the wide bend in the creek where the water was shallow, he saw the swing over the water that someone had put there years ago, mismatched ropes and a wooden seat, and how someone had now woven wildflowers into the ropes, and as he glanced upstream he saw Freya knee deep in the water, a butterfly dancing on her hand.

Something overcame him and he pulled off his boots and socks, rolling up his pants as he stepped out into the water and sat on the swing, silently watching as she charmed nature beyond a simple human’s comprehension, having control of the elements like a forest nymph. August had seen a lot of unusual things in the time he’d lived in Blackwater Lake, he knew those that had something a little special about them gravitated towards the sleepy little mountain town, so as he watched Freya make her way upstream towards him he realised there was magic in the air. Small water spouts rose from the water as she took each step, as if chasing after her touch as she stepped from rock to rock submerged under the water. 

As she approached the shallow bend in the creek she finally looked up and saw August, a smile spreading over her lips;

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Its so pretty here, isn’t it?” she asked wistfully

“Beautiful from where i’m sitting”

She approached where he sat, stopped at arms reach, a hint of blush warming her cheeks;

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate last night… thank you for taking care of me, i’m not a big drinker”

“You weren’t inappropriate…” he reassured her; “But it's been a while since a beautiful woman called me Daddy… since before… since before i was broken...”

Her gaze moved to the scar on the side of his face, and without a word she stepped forward and pressed her hand to the spidery scarring. In that moment August felt the magic in her touch, prickling at his skin before she nimbly climbed onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist and she lowered her lips to his, softly brushing against his as she spoke;

“You’re not broken, no more than I am…”

The kiss was soft and slow, and as her tongue started to gently tease at the seam of his lips she eased her weight completely onto his lap, her core pressing to his, the heat of their growing lust growing like an ember between them. 

Her small tongue licked into his mouth, tasting him as she pressed her body flush to his chest, small whimpers coming from her as his hands splayed over her back and pulled her firmly down onto his growing arousal. When the need for oxygen finally took precedence August’s lips traced a path of kisses down her jaw and neck, her fingers winding through his dark curls as her head fell back to give him better access to the pale expanse of her collarbone;

“Oh Daddy…”

“That’s it my little one, i’m going to treat you so well, my little Kitten…” August’s mustache brushed against her heated skin as he spoke, the gentle sway of the swing letting their bodies move against each other.

Just at that moment an ominous creak sounded above them, drawing their attention up into the tree’s canopy, just in time to see the rope that held the swing up snap, plunging them down into the shallow creekwater below.

With shouts and screams the moment of passion was lost, taken over by the shock of the water hitting their heated skin. August helped Freya up, her dress plastered to her skin in much the same way his shirt was, soaked head to toe he shook the water from his hair;

“Home?”

“Yes Daddy” Freya purred, pulling into his touch as he wrapped an arm around her to help her out of the water.

-

Pushing in the door to his apartment, clothes were being pulled from each other's bodies even as the door was still ajar. As he pulled his shirt off, Freya’s hands were curling into the hair on his chest, an almost feral growl bubbling from her lips as she ran her hands down to his stomach and rested on the buckle of his belt. Catching her hands in his he held them gently, only speaking when she looked up and met his gaze;

“Kitten, I want to be sure you want this… You’re in total control here, you set the boundaries, you say when you need to stop. But if you do want this, i’ll be your Daddy and take care of you like a Princess”

Freya voice shook as she spoke;

“I want this… my last… he wanted to be my Daddy but didn’t treat me right. He took more than I could give…”

August lifted her small hands to his mouth, kissing each fingertip with such great care and tenderness her heart almost melted before she finally spoke again;

“We should really check for leeches”

“WHAT?!”

Freya had never seen anyone strip their clothing off quite as fast as August just had. For a big man - and a pretty tough one at that - the mere thought of little blood suckers had him stripping completely naked in a matter of seconds, Freya pulling her dress off a little slower until she stood in just her simple underwear. August was still patting himself down, turning to look at his behind;

“Am I ok?”

Freya couldn’t help herself, stepping forwards and taking two handfuls of August’s pert asscheeks, giving them a squeeze before running her palms over the perfectly rounded globes of his buttocks;

“More than ok”

In the following moments August carried her to his small bathroom, turning the shower on before he stepped under the warm jets of water, pulling her with him so he could soap her down. The scent of sandalwood of his soap as he carefully washed every inch of her body was overwhelming, taking care of her to wash any last traces of creek water from her body. He paused as he reached the apex of her thighs, waiting for her agreement which she quickly nodded for him to continue, his large hand sliding between her legs and caressing her lips. His skilled fingers soon sought out her pearl, teasing it gently from its hood before he slid a finger into her waiting heat, a cry falling from her lips which he quickly swallowed with a kiss. His work calloused hands quickly drove her to an orgasm - a first of many - and as she came she called his name, like a prayer on her lips. 

Shutting the water off, August carefully lifted her out of the bath, wrapping a large towel around her before scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his bed. On the messy covers her hair clung to her skin, before he carefully lifted the long tendrils from her chest and was able to take in the sight of her petite naked body laying fresh and prone on his bed. Her hand reached out for him, pulling him close;

“Daddy, I want to feel you…”

August smiled;

“Will you be a good girl for me Kitten? Do you think you can take me? You’re awfully small, and I'm pretty big…”

She sat up, pressing a hand to his chest;

“Can I try? Can I go on top?”

Nodding August lay on the bed, propped up against the pillows, lifting her petite frame on top of him. He watched with pleasure as she wriggled down the bed, her hands gripping his thighs as she settled between his legs. Wrapping her small hands around his generous length she looked up at him as she started to give small licks to his hot flesh, her fingers struggling to encircle his meaty girth. Opening her mouth she took a good three inches between her lips straight away, a litany of curses falling from August’s lips as he felt the hot wet heat of her mouth engulf him. It was better than he could ever had imagined, and he had to grip at the bedsheets to stop himself from cumming at that very moment. Steadying his breathing he let out a low sigh before he reluctantly pulled her off, a trail of spittle hanging between his dick and her mouth;

“But Daddy, I want to taste your cum…”

“I know Kitten, but it's going to be a lot the first time, and I want to see your cunt dripping with me, knowing your tight little pussy is going to overflow with the amount I'm going to pump into you. Now be a good girl and see what you can do, let's make it fit…”

Straddling his thick thighs she positioned herself over his hard shaft, her hand holding him steady as she swiped him through her folds to douse his gnarled girth with her juices, before settling with the tip at her entrance. August ran his hands up and down her arms, comforting her and hoping to get her to relax. He was a patient man but the feel of her soaked flesh pressing against his crown was becoming a struggle not to grab her hips and pull her down until he was balls deep in one swift thrust.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Freya slowly lowered herself onto August’s shaft, going at a pace she could cope with, but the strain of holding back caused perspiration to bead on August’s forehead;

“Doing so well Kitten… I know its a lot, but you can do it… you’re so fucking tight…. Fuck…”

Taking a deep breath Freya finally let herself fall the rest of the way, feeling him part her silken walls until she was settled on his lap. Tears fell from her eyes, tiny diamonds adorning her cheeks at the overwhelming sense of fullness she was experiencing. Seeing these August kissed them away, his praises made her swell with pride as he admitted to her he was struggling not to cum from just the feeling of her tight walls engulfing him. He pushed a hand between their bodies, resting his palm on her stomach;

“Put your hand here… you’re so tiny I can feel myself deep inside you, your little tummy blown out with my dick…”

His thumb crept down and grazed at her pearl, making her cry out before yearning for more. With his ministrations she was soon relaxed enough to start to ride him, her nimble thighs bouncing on his meaty counterparts, feeling the slick push and pull as he filled her whilst she drove them towards their peak. 

Unsurprisingly Freya came first, the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through her body was all too much to hold back, and she came with a silent scream, her body gripping August so tight it set him off, pushing in so deep he was sure his dick had kissed her cervix, before flooding her with endless ropes of his thick seed, soothing her inner core with his milky gift. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her to his chest, holding her tight as the floods of emotions surged through her, stroking her back tenderly.

Eventually he carefully lifted her onto the bed, peppering her bare skin with bristly kisses, before parting her thighs and leaning back to admire his handiwork, a thick sheen of white covering her swollen petals. With a single finger he carefully swiped through his mess, before holding it to her mouth;

“Taste Kitten… taste our passion…”

Holding onto his wrist she sucked the digit into her mouth, her tongue tasting their combined essence. When his finger finally dropped from her lips his gaze fell down and hers followed, her eyes going wide when she saw he was hard and ready for more. Laying back she hooked her hands behind her knees and spread herself open for him;

“Daddy, will you fill me up again, please?”

Positioning himself at her cum soaked hole August smiled, a dark hint of lust glinting in his eyes;

“It would be my pleasure Kitten”

-

Three weeks later

Freya chewed nervously on her lip, having circled the isles of the drug store too many times to count now, waiting for a time when there was no-one near what she needed. Finally it was the right moment and she slunk into the isle, grabbing the thin rectangular box before stepping back and bumping into someone, her item tumbling to the floor as a third set of feet appeared;

“Freya! Mrs Syverson! Good Morning!”

It was Sue from the coffee shop, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere just as Mrs Syverson had backed away from the opposite shelf to keep little baby Luna from grabbing the glass bottles of antacid medicine. Mrs Syverson immediately clocked what Freya had been holding;

“Oh Freya, could you just reach those things for me? I can’t reach down with Luna here…”

With shaking hands Freya handed the bag of cotton wool balls and the pregnancy test to the woman only a couple of years her senior, who in turn smiled at Sue as she laughed;

“Sy’s always keeping me on my toes… in more ways than one” She winked before tugging on Freya’s arm; “Sweetie, I need to place an order for a big cookout we have coming up for Sy’s birthday…”

Steering her away from town gossip Sue, Mrs Syverson lowered her voice;

“I’ll meet you outside sweetie, don’t worry about it, i saw you circling the shop”

A few minutes later Mrs Syverson appeared at the door, two drugstore bags in her hand before handing one to Freya;

“My advice, tell August now, do the test together”

“Are you sure? Do you think he’ll be angry?”

“Angry? Hell no, i think it’ll be what he wants, and no matter what the result he’s always had puppy dog eyes for you, we could all tell from the moment you walked into his life”

Peering into the bag Freya saw there was also a bag of Hershey’s kisses;

“You’ll need the sugar, to calm your nerves afterwards”

“Thanks Mrs S… i appreciate it”

“No problem Freya… and i’ll see you tomorrow, i really do need to place that order, but get today over and done with first”

That afternoon Freya and August took the test, then feasted on kisses of every kind.

[winterscaptain]

redamancy.

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: the moment you’ve all been waiting for...#5 makes an appearance! (thanks to kira @good-heavens-chris-evans for helping me not be a liar and gassing me up so i could post this tonight like i promised xoxo i love you so much) words: 5.56k warnings: descriptions of childbirth (nothing too gross or graphic), swearing, disgustingly sweet family content

summary: “what strange creatures brothers are!” - jane austen. au!august 2022

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist edited: january 9th, 2021

“Hey, Aaron?” You peer around the wall to the bedroom from your place on the master bath toilet. There isn't any urgency to your query, which would later make you both laugh until you can't breathe. 

Aaron has a book in his lap and reading glasses resting on his perfect nose, as is usual for bedtime. He turns a page. “Hm?”

“When you get to a good stopping point, can you grab the go bag?” 

“Yeah.” He gets up on autopilot, setting his book down. When he reaches the bedroom doorway, he freezes and turns over his shoulder “Wait. Why?”

“Oh, nothing extreme,” you say, your voice light. “My water just broke and I figured we might -“

Your name leaves his mouth in a laugh, and he trots back to you, helping you up and kneeling to assist you with your comfiest pair of pajama pants. You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder, stepping into one leg, then the other. Playfully, he snaps the stretchy waistband around you. He's still kneeling before you when he says, “You’re insane, you know that?”

You smile down at him and scrub your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch like a cat and closes his eyes. “You are too, I’d like to point out.”

He sighs, kissing your belly and resting his cheek on it. “Never said I wasn’t.” He looks up at you. “Is it weird that I’m...a little sad? I’ve loved this part of our lives so much.”

You shake your head. “Me too, my love. And no, It isn’t weird.” 

He holds your hands as he stands and kisses your forehead. 

“We should probably tell Jack it's go time so he can help the little ones when they get up.”

Aaron pauses for a moment, thinking. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Isaac isn’t going to clearly remember last time, so he’ll probably be nervous, and this is totally new to the girls.” You reach up and he plants a kiss on your lips. You smile, pleased. 

A little contraction wave hits, and one side of your face screwed up in discomfort. 

Aaron kisses your cheek and says, “I’ll get the rest of the toiletries together.”

You nod, and padded down the hallway, your socked feet swishing a little against the hardwood floors. You knocked twice on Jack’s door, quietly, and waited for his groggy, “Yeah?”

With access granted, you open the door with a little smile, and Jack sits straight up.  You cross to his bed and sit down on the edge, opening your arm to him. Though he’s almost seventeen, he scrambled out from under the covers and tucked in close to you. 

“Your dad and I are headed to the hospital, and Aunt Jess and Em are on their way okay? If you need anything big, dad has his phone and -“

“Mom, we’ve done this before,” he says with a grin. “I know the drill.”

You push the hair off his forehead and kiss him. “I know it, but it makes me feel better. The little ones haven’t done this before, and they’ll probably be a little nervous. Please help your aunts so they aren’t driven to the drink by your sisters.”

He laughs a little, and surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close to him. “Be safe, mom. I love you.” 

Tears prick at your eyes, and you hold him tight. “I love you so much, Jack.”

“Are you scared?”

You press a hand to the back of his head, and he burrows into your neck. “Only a little. I know I’m older, which can make some things difficult, but I’ll always come home to you.”

He nods. “Promise?”

“I promise as much as I can.”

Jack pulls away and swipes quickly at his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Hey,” your brow crinkles in lighthearted concern. “What’s gotcha?”

He shakes his head. “It’s stupid”

“I can guarantee you it’s not.” While still a bit of a boy, Jack looks very much a man in the dark, lit only by the light of the hallway as the wheels turn in his head. You pick up one of his hands, and he places your linked fingers over your belly. 

“I just - I don’t - Ugh. It’s morbid - Nevermind.”

You huff a laugh. “Baby, remember that one-third of this house hunts serial killers for a living. Nothing is morbid.”

A smile quirks at his lips, but it doesn’t really reach his eyes. “Just be okay? Please?”

You sober and nod, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Jack, do you think I would ever put you or your father into a position that can result in leaving either one of you?”

He shakes his head. “But things happen.”

“They sure do. Your dad will be with me the whole time and he can send you hourly updates if you want. I promise promise promise you’ll be in the loop, baby. I know you like to know.”

Your son’s eyes flicker to the doorway, where a shadow appears. It's Aaron, his backpack on and your go bag in his hand. 

“Ready?” 

You nod, stand (not without effort), and press another kiss to Jack’s head. “I love you bud. I’ll see you when our plus one arrives.” 

The plan is easy: Emily and Jessica are on their way over for the kids, and Dave and Spencer will relieve them after 12 hours. Derek, Savannah, JJ, and Will are only called when the baby arrives, to save them the angst of prematurely wrangling four children between them. 

The hospital is only eighteen minutes away, but with the way Aaron drives, it's more like ten. 

Time is fairly important - with your body accustomed to delivering babies, having done it twice before, there’s a very big chance active labor would only take a few hours, if that. 

Emily and Jess pull up to the house at the same time, both in their pajamas, holding their overnight bags.

“Ready?” Jess asks, kissing your cheek. 

You laugh. “Don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” 

Emily sets her things down and wordlessly hugs you. You wrap your arms around her as best you can. 

“Walk me out?” You ask. 

She slings an arm around your shoulders and you walk back out the front door. She situates you in the passenger seat, and you offer her a small smile. 

“You know,” she starts with a bit of a laugh, “every single time I’m just as nervous as I was when Henry was born.” 

You reach for her hand, and kiss the back of it. “Me too.” 

Everything goes according to plan after that. You sit in the car with your stopwatch while Aaron packs the car, checking the car seat base and putting everything that needs to go up with you in the trunk. Jess and Emily get set up on the couches in the living room, ready to settle in for the night. 

You're uncomfortable, sure, but it isn't unbearable yet. This is the tedious part. 

Miraculously, none of the little ones wake up in the commotion. The magic of white noise machines is never to be underestimated. 

“Time?” He calls from where he leans into the back of the car. He's handling the last details, in full field operations mode. 

You turn around. “5 minutes, 15 seconds.”

“Alright,” he looks up at you and grins widely. “Let’s go, baby.”

+++

Brienne breezes in and checks your charts and your dilation. “It’s go, time, here I think, Momma.”

You sigh and readjust. “Do I have to lay down?” Comfortable as you are, epidural all finished, you still feel a little restless. The alternative is worse - you’d delivered Isaac without any pain management, and thought it was the end of days. You didn’t, and won’t, make that mistake again. 

“Not necessarily, but if you’re going to shuffle around I would suggest a squat for the sake of your blood pressure.”

Another contraction hits, and it knocks the wind out of you. You squeeze Aaron’s hand so hard you fear you’ll break it, and inform him for the third time that morning that you hate his guts. 

“I know, honey. I’m sorry. I know. I’m the worst. Just breathe, okay?” He presses his forehead to your temple, giving you something to focus on. 

It sounds like you tell him to fuck off, but you aren’t sure. The wave crests and then falls, and you slump back against the pillows. “Okay, maybe I do want to lie down.” 

Everyone stifles a chuckle, but you didn't have it in you to be prideful. While you still have a few seconds, you double-check the plan. “Hey Brienne, we’re still good to tie today, right?” 

“Yes, ma’am!” she says, way too chipper for the small morning hour. She speaks quickly, knowing she has to finish her thought before your next contraction. “Soon as we’re all done, we’ll do a really quick procedure and everything will be squared away. If, for some reason, we have to do an emergency cesarean, we can do it right then as well.” 

Brienne is a great obstetrician - she never pulls punches when the news is difficult or stressful. Her straightforward nature immediately endeared her to your whole family. 

It's too much to think about, seeing as another contraction sneaks up on you as you ponder. It felt like only seconds since the last one. 

You're so tired. 

Brienne gestures to Aaron. They developed a bit of a language over the last two deliveries, and he presses a kiss to your temple. “You gotta push, babe.” 

“God, Fuck. I hate you, Aaron. Goddamn you. I’m never letting you near me ever again. Fuck.” A stream of expletives continues to leave you as you push and push and push. 

He only holds your hand and reminds you to breathe and push. He also tells you how much he loves you in between agreeing with your damning assessments. 

If he's honest, he always thinks your ire during childbirth is hilarious. It is kind of his fault, and he can't fathom the physical trauma, so he figures this is a fair role to fill while you do the hard work. 

On a small trough in your final set of contractions, you catch your breath enough to ask for his other hand. This is the hardest part, and it always makes you a little nervous. 

“Aaron, come here. Please.” He drapes his arm around your shoulders, and you grab his hand where it hangs by your collarbone. 

“You’re almost there, darlin’! We’re gonna be crowning here in a second.” You can't see Brienne, totally locked into her task, but her update is a relief. 

You lean heavily into Aaron and he rests his cheek against yours. While this is a shorter labor than both Isaac and the girls’, you're exhausted. Bone-deep tired and hot and cold all at once. 

“You’re doing so well. You’re a superhero. I love you so much.” He whispers his words against you, and you wail as another contraction hit.  Your choice of a walking epidural doesn’t knock the pain out entirely, and it still totally sucks. But again, better than the alternative.

“We’ve got a little Hotchner head! Keep going!” Brienne pats your knee and grins at you, and you follow instructions. “Do you want to catch, Dad?”

Before he can answer, you tell him, “If you move, I’ll kill you,” through your teeth. Aaron shrugs and looks over your head at Brienne, who suppresses a smile. 

There can't be any blood left in Aaron’s upper extremities at this point. In the midst of actively disliking him and your presence in your life in that particular moment, you're so grateful for him you could cry. 

Well, you could cry for a great number of reasons, but that’s definitely one of them. 

A few minutes and a pretty bad time later, a strong cry fills the room and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Aaron releases you as you unbutton your gown to expose your chest. 

“Your time to shine, Aaron.” Brienne holds up the umbilical cord clamp and snaps it together twice like a dad at a barbecue. With a smile, he stands and rounds the bed. 

You tried to peer over to see, but you're only able to see Aaron and Brienne.

A smile eats up his whole face. 

“Hi!” His voice pitches up, and you start to cry. 

You just love him so much your chest could just burst. Aaron is always the first person to greet your children as they come into the world, and he never fails to deliver a warm welcome. 

“Right here, right?” He looks to Brienne, and she nods. He cuts the cord, and the nurse crosses the room for measurements. 

Aaron returns to you and removes his own shirt, ready to take the little one while you finish delivery. After his crew neck is thrown to the side, he gathers you up in his arms again. 

There’s nothing you can do but melt into him. His skin is warm and he smells good, whereas your skin felt clammy and you probably smell like a horse’s ass. 

Brienne’s voice comes to you faintly from the other side of the room, iterating the specs of the newest addition. “Baby Boy Hotchner, 5:37am, August 13th, 8 pounds, 14 ounces, 21 inches.”

Okay I'm not crazy. He’s actually huge. 

Aaron scoots even closer as you lean away to get a better look. Brienne sets the still-squalling infant on your chest with gentle, warm hands. Your eyes blur with tears. Aaron isn't any better off, keeping one hand on you and another on your son, his own tears tracking quietly down his cheeks. 

Your son. 

Brienne sighs and says, “Alright, last bit here, and then you’re done.” 

You nod and Aaron takes him off your chest, leaning back with one hand under him and one hand over him. Fluid and other questionable grossness be damned, he ducks his head and presses his cheek to his son’s head, an ineffable joy radiating through his body. 

Aaron’s hands almost completely cover him - with his little knees tucked to his chest, he looks like an angry little loaf of bread. 

The afterbirth is the easy part, but then it was before, too. All the Hotchner kids are massive - even the girls were bigger for twins. 

You always make fun of Aaron for “ripping me to shreds, and not in a fun way.” 

(Okay, fine. Maybe a little in a fun way. Sometimes.)

There’s a little more pressure, and you look down at Brienne’s outline behind that infernal green medical paper shit. “How’s it going down there?”

“I’m getting these suckers tied off so we don’t have any more happy accidents. Don’t mind me.” 

Aaron stifles a laugh and you roll your eyes, still weepy. The nurse passes him a warm, wet washcloth, and he begins to wipe the ick from his son’s skin. 

Brienne finishes up and helps you get adjusted with ice packs and that excellent postpartum underwear. When she's satisfied, she removes her gloves and presses a hand to your bare shoulder. “Beautiful work, momma. He’s perfect.” 

You put a shaky hand over hers. “Thanks.” A little watery laugh leaves you. Ouch. “I’ll miss you.” 

And it's true. Brienne has been a semi-permanent fixture in your life for close to six years and has become a friend. You wouldn’t have any reason to see her again outside of regular check-ups. 

She squeezes your shoulder twice. “You ever need anything, you know who to call. Let someone know when you’re ready to put his name down, and they’ll finish off the birth certificate.” 

With that, she shepherds the nurse out the door, and you're alone with Aaron. 

“So,” you say. 

He smiles, his eyes still trained on the little body who has quickly quieted and is snoozing on his chest. “So?”

“Gimme that.” 

His laugh is warm, and he places little one on your chest again. You prod him awake, feeling only a touch bad about it, and offer him a snack. He latches right away, and you tip your head back in sheer relief. 

“Thank God.” 

Aaron nods in agreement. “That’s one less thing to worry about.” He shakes his head as if shaking something off - no doubt remembering the meltdowns night after night trying to nurse Isaac. 

Little one is still naked to the world, so you point at the little blue blanket folded across the room. “Can you grab that for me?” 

Aaron just looks at you for a second, as if seeing you for the first time.  “Of course.” 

He crosses the room, throws the blanket over his shoulder, and grabs a diaper. While the little one is distracted, he deftly maneuvers the diaper into place and drapes the blanket over him to keep the chill off while maintaining skin-to-skin.

You pull the blanket back a little so you can see his squishy little face. “Can you call Jack?” 

“Do we want to call him now? It’s pretty early.” Aaron leans over to his backpack and pulls his phone out, finding a couple requests for updates from Jess. First things first, he turns the camera on you, and you give him a thumbs up. You detach the little one from your nipple for a second, framing his face with the blanket. Aaron gets a good photo of a yawn and fires both pictures off to the BAU group chat before checking Jess’s messages. 

4:12am How we doin? 4:18am Jack’s up with me. He can’t sleep. Em is dead to the world - she gave up about an hour ago. Give us an update when you can. 

6:02am He’s adorable!!! He’s got your nose though, which is unfortunate. 6:02am Kidding. Maybe. 

Aaron laughs a little, and he looks at you. “He’s up with Jess.”

You nod. “Go ahead and call him. He’ll worry, honey.” 

He nods, and dials the second number on his speed dial. Jack picks up on the first ring. “Dad?”

“Hey, bud.” Aaron can't hide the smile in his voice. “Your brother is here and your mom wants to talk to you.” 

“Can I come see you?” Jack’s voice wavers a little, and Aaron knows it's relief, rather than anxiety. Much like his son, he was more than a little concerned for your safety. Now that it's over, he can finally relax. 

That alone is enough to make anyone emotional. 

Aaron checks his watch. “Are you too tired to drive?” 

“No, no. I’m good. I slept a little after you guys left.” he's quiet for a second. “Can you hand me to mom?”

“Sure, bud.” Aaron nods at you and you smile. He starts to pass the phone over to you then -

“Oh, dad?” Jack’s voice is only a little urgent. 

Aaron pulls the phone back to his ear. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, bud. I want to talk to Aunt Jess when you’re done with mom, so don’t hang up, okay?” 

With that, he hands you the phone and fresh tears roll down your cheeks. You know this part comes in waves - the emotions. Your hormones are in shambles, and you forget how intense it is every time. 

“Hey, Jack.” 

“Are you okay how did it go what happened?” All the questions come out in a rush.

You chuckle. Ouch. “Slow down there, kiddo. We’re just fine. It went really smoothly, but the last part happened kind of all at once and I denied your father personal freedom and geographic agency, so we didn’t get a chance to update you.” 

He laughs, and it warms you. “It’s okay. I’m really excited to meet him.” There’s a shuffle, and you assume it's his keys. 

Baby boy is finished eating, just nosing around your chest at this point. You shift, and Hotch catches the phone and holds it to your ear so you can use two hands, bringing little one’s head right under your collarbone, tucking him up again. “He’s excited to meet you, too.”

After Aaron has a chance to debrief and game-plan with Jess (“If you bring the little ones over here before 10am, nobody will have any fun.”), Jack is on his way. 

In the meantime, Aaron sets his phone on the side table and sits on the edge of your bed. “Are we sticking to the name we picked? Does it feel right?”

You nod. “I think so. What do you think?”

You do your best to inch yourself over - Ouch - so Aaron can have a little more space. He stretches out on the bed next to you, on his side with his arm folded under his head. A very large hand covers yours, pulling the blanket down to little one’s chin. 

“He looks like you,” he says. 

You snort. Ouch. “Don’t lie. All your damn kids look like you.”

“Alright, fine.” He relents with a wide smile. “He looks like me.” 

He's quiet for a moment, tracing the apple of little one’s cheek with his finger.  His smile morphs into something soft, pensive. It's the look he always has when he's in awe of his children. “What do you think, little man? Is your name Elliot David? How’s that sitting with you?”

The Elliot David in question just makes contented little staccato sounds from his chest, his brown eyes looking here and there, surprisingly alert. He lets out a little cough, and both you and Aaron let out an, “Oh!” simultaneously in that drawn-out way parents do when their kids surprise themselves. 

You look at him and stifle a laugh just for the sake of your exhausted muscles. Aaron’s smile soon turns shaky, and tears fall onto his elbow where it rests under his head. He takes a big breath, and it catches on the way out. 

“Oh, honey. Come here.” 

You adjust again, bringing the head of the bed down with the little remote. As you recline, you only need one hand to keep Elliot secure. You raise your other arm, and Aaron scoots under it, resting his head in the crook of your chest and shoulder. He snaps some buttons on your gown in the absent-minded interest of keeping Jack relatively unscarred. 

Aaron’s bare arm is warm under your fingers. You trace little patterns into his skin as he stares at the back of his son’s head. Elliot’s impossibly small hand catches Aaron’s finger in that death grip only babies seem to have. 

Aaron doesn’t care he's nearly twenty-four hours without sleep, missing a shirt, and really hungry. The only things that matter in this moment are right here in front of him. 

There’s no need to speak. 

A nurse stops by and drops off the bedside cradle, speaking quietly. “You can put him in here when you’re ready to get some rest.” 

You look up and thank him. “Oh, and we’d like to finish the birth certificate in a few hours. Will that be alright?”

He nods. “Just fine.” He checks your charts and leaves a few moments later. 

Soon after, the door slips open, and Jack’s head pops in. “Hi!” He stage-whispers. “Lemme see him.” 

Aaron is stuck where he is, still locked in by Elliot’s grip, so Jack crosses to your other side, pulling up a chair as close as he can get it. 

There is a sense of finality to this meeting. Elliot is your last child, and this is the last time the Three Musketeers will sit together, meeting the newest member of their family. 

“Oh man, Mom. He’s so cute.” Jack coos and ducks so he's eye-level with his baby brother. He traces a finger along Elliot’s tiny, straight nose. When he rests his head on your upper arm, you kiss his head. All three of you sit there until the sun rises, watching Elliot fall asleep. Aaron follows suit eventually, his breath fanning slow and even across your chest. 

+++

The three of you are relatively well-rested by the time your family comes to bombard you. 

Elliot woke twice in the early morning - once to be fed and the other to be changed. Jack retreated to the recliner after a certain point, and Aaron threw on a sweatshirt and curled up next to you for the duration. They're still out cold, while you rest somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. 

One of the nurses on rotation pops her head in. You wave at her with the tips of your fingers. 

“Your family is here to see you.” 

That wakes you up. You make an ‘eek’ face. “All of them?”

She nods. “Three at a time?” 

“Please.” You reach over and pick up a neatly-swaddled Elliot and tuck him into your elbow. You check the corner, where Jack still sleeps. You're sure a train could drive through the room and he’d still be out. That kid has sleeping superpowers - being sixteen only helped.  

Jess is first, holding the girls’ hands while Isaac trails a little behind. 

You put a finger to your lips and point to Elliot. “He’s sleeping, so you have to be really quiet, okay?”

Caroline clambers up on the bed with a few reminders to “be gentle with Mom and don’t lean on her too much,” and peers over you. “Is Daddy sleeping?”

You look to your right, and sure enough, Aaron is out like a light again, performance evaluations on his chest, his hand relaxed around his pen. “Yeah, baby. Daddy’s sleeping because he's awake for a really long time helping me with Elliot.” 

Newly reminded of the main event, Caro plants herself by your knee while Sophia sits by your hip, taking the good real estate. You look over at Jess and wink. She slips out, closing the door softly behind her. 

You scoot over so you're flush with Aaron’s side. “Come on up here, bubba.” 

Isaac gives you a little smile and perches at your side. “He’s so small.” 

“Yep. And look at that,” you brush your fingers down Elliot’s nose and tap his cupid bow before doing the same to Isaac. “You have the same nose.” 

Isaac smiles and raises a tentative hand. He hesitates right before he reaches the dark brown peach fuzz that sits in unmanageable cowlicks on Elliot’s head. 

“You can touch him, bub. Just be gentle.” Isaac’s hand smooths over Elliot’s head with next-to-no pressure. “Do you remember when Sophia and Caroline were born?” 

Isaac nods. “It was super cool.”

“It was super cool.” You kiss his forehead and adjust your hold on Elliot. “Sophia, love, can you hand me the pillow that’s by Daddy’s knee.” 

She nods and very carefully presents it to you. You show her how to stuff it under your elbow so you can relax while supporting Elliot’s head. Caro is clearly enamored, her eyes never leaving Elliot’s face. 

“Babies are really delicate,” you remind a wiggling Sophia. “Their heads are too heavy for their little necks, so sometimes they need a little help.” 

At the mention of ‘help,’ Aaron’s eyes snap open. “What’s up?”  

You suppress a laugh as he realizes all of his kids surround him like the children of the corn. He presses a hand to his face, recovering. “Oh. Hi.”

Caro beams at him, and he beams right back. He puts his files down and pats his lap. “Come here, my little love. I’ve got a really good view over here.” 

She very mindfully picks her way over your shins and into her father’s lap. He lifts her so she's flush to his chest. His cheek presses into her hair, and he shows her where to find Elliot’s little baby toes under the blanket. 

“Are his feet very very small?” Caroline’s whispered question almost makes Aaron cry again. 

“Yes. They are very very small. So are his hands. Here, look.” 

He reaches over and peels back a layer of blanket, exposing one of Elliot’s (very very) small hands, pressed flat against the fabric. Aaron wiggles his finger under it and presents it to the kids. “If you look really carefully, you all have the same hands.” 

All at once, three pairs of hands appear, flipping their palms up and down as each one individually assesses the similarities. 

“And if you look even closer,” he says, flipping his palm down, but keeping Elliot’s hand aloft, “I have the same hands as all of you, too.”

Caroline looks up at him, awestruck and he nods. She places her hand on the back of Aaron’s and - lo and behold - they're the same shape, just significantly different sizes. 

Satisfied, Sophia drops her hands, leaning on them to get a closer, yet stable, look at Elliot’s fingers. 

She gasps, but to her credit, keeps her voice soft as she says, “Look at his tiny little nails!” 

“Lemme see!” Aaron supports Caro as she thrusts her body forward to get a better look. 

Jack stirs in the corner, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. In full voice, he says, “Oh, hey guys.” 

Three big shushes come from the kids, and it takes everything in you to keep your laugh locked away. You keep your eyes trained on Sophia (who looks downright offended at Jack’s volume) knowing if you look at Aaron you’d be done for. 

Jack makes the same ‘eek’ face you made earlier. “Sorry, sorry.” He creeps over, standing behind Sophia and putting his hands on her shoulders. She giggles quietly as he drops close to her ear. “Cute, huh?”

She wrinkles her nose. “He looks a little funny.” 

“He’ll start to look more like a person in a few weeks,” Aaron says with a smile. “You looked pretty funny the day you're born, maybe even funnier.”

He winks at her, and she dissolves into a fit of giggles again, leaning back against Jack. As she did so, her brother wrapped her in his arms and rested his chin on her head. 

Isaac runs his hand over Elliot’s hair, gentle and repetitive. He, like Jack did hours earlier, rests his head against your shoulder. You press your cheek to the crown of his head, soaking it in. 

“I like him.” 

A smile breaks your face in half, and you peer around to look at Isaac’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s cool.” 

Your bottom lip disappears into your mouth as you fight back tears, still ready to flow without fair warning. You don’t want to scare them. “I’m so glad you think so, bubba.” 

Elliot has once again taken Aaron’s finger hostage, and it takes more than a little negotiation to get him unwrapped and tucked back into his blanket. You have no idea how Elliot manages to sleep through all the commotion, but then again, he’ll have to get used to it. 

Jess pokes her head back in. “Ready for some lunch?”

Four heads whip around and nod vigorously. Aaron deposits Caro on the floor, while Isaac presses a heart-wrenching kiss to Elliot’s head before gingerly getting his feet back under him. Jack just lifts Sophia and she hangs off his hip, only a little too big. 

He walks to you and kisses your cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

You bring your hand up to his temple, the back of your fingers brushing his hair back. “I love you too, my Jack.” 

One side of his mouth turns up in a smile, and he leaves the room with Sophia, leading the rest of the pack down the hallway. 

+++

It's safe to say Dave immediately covets his namesake. You plop Elliot into his arms right away, and say, “This is Elliot David Hotchner. He’s been very excited to meet you.”

Dave full-on cries, letting the tears just fall onto his shirt as he bounces Elliot all around the room, talking to him about all the ways he’ll spoil him rotten. 

It’s easy to name him after Rossi. When you finally decided on a couple of first names, it was a no-brainer to pair them up with David. He’s your family, like they all are, but you're acutely aware that Elliot will have the smallest amount of time with Dave, no matter how much time that will be. 

When Dave is ready to give him up, he reluctantly passes him back to Aaron. Dave crosses to you while Aaron offers Elliot a knuckle to mouth around on. 

Dave kisses your cheeks and embraces you. He leans back to look at you, keeping his hands on your face. You cover his hands with your own and close your eyes. 

You're taking a lot of mental pictures today. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you're sure you see Aaron’s one-handed camera work out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you, bellissima.” 

“You’ve more than earned it,” you remind him.  

“Dealing with you two for fifteen years? You’re damn right I have.”

+++

a joyful future tag list:  @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @thatinspiredgirl @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @synonymforlame @lcvischmitt

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

orange and gold

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

Set a few months after Master of the Mountain, but before Seabound or The Island.

Also yeah, I couldn't think of a better title, sue me- I just know that they wear one of the colours at some point, so... 🤦‍♀️😂

Trigger warnings: none I think? Huh-

Also, bingo!! I really need to learn better time management, dear freaking gosh- I hope I'm not too late though? I know it's like half a day late, eek- and I was supposed to post this earlier, but I ended up literally falling asleep while writing it😂

Thank you so much Fabro, for hosting such a cool event!:D Your comments on my fics literally never fail to make my day<3. And I'm so glad that I met so many awesome, really skilled people through this event too - it's been a lot of fun working alongside y'all:D, I wish I'd had more time to interact instead of posting stuff and vanishing lol, but exams be like:////

Prompt: cooking (does baking count as cooking? I realized too late lol-) from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Word Count: 2497

---

Trying to escape from killer dire-bats hadn't been on Cole's to do list today - although the mountains were kind of beautiful.

It was a bit difficult to see them while he was being dragged to his death, but hey, didn't Jay always tell them to be more positive?

That was, until he made the mistake of looking down.

Miles of snowcapped mountains touched the pastel blue sky, but he was more focused on exactly how high he was from the ground.

Great.

Trying to swing back onto the Bounty, he didn't notice a golden-winged blur shoot past the bat, almost dropping their spear in haste.

"Let my friend go, or I'll-"

"Vania?"

She throws the spear at the bird, successfully knocking one of its wings.

Huh. She must've been practicing - throwing with accuracy while flying seemed kinda difficult.

"I'm so sorry!" she replies, grabbing his arm before he fell down too. She winces at the strain on her wings, almost dropping him onto the deck. "I was supposed to come earlier, but there was an issue with one of the mines, and it took forever to-"

"There ain't anything in this world that's managed to kill me yet," he replies jokingly, checking that the autopilot hadn't been damaged. "I doubt an angry bird is going to be the first."

"Didn't you mention that you became a ghost once? Pretty sure that means you were dead-"

"Shh, that's not an important detail," he jokes.

"If you say so," she replies with a grin. "Did I mention that Chompy's been tearing down the palace flower arrangements again?"

"Send my regards to the gardener-"

"Did you just make a pun?"

"Remind me why I decided to visit you again?"

"Because you love me?" she asks stepping onto the ground as the Bounty landed gently.

"I hereby crown you as my platonic soulmate," Cole deadpans, taking her hand. "Vania and Cole-"

"Destined to annoy each other for eternity," she giggles, swinging their hands up and down. "But seriously - thanks. I don't think I realized how much work being a queen was."

"What's it like?"

"I mean - I'm glad that people trust me, and they come to me if they have a problem, but the paperwork is a nightmare. I never get to go outside anymore, I swear."

"Paperwork? Also, you just invited me here for a week. I don't wanna disturb you?"

"Nah, I cleared my schedule, don't worry. And trust me, you don't want to know. Everything requires some sort of official written thing, and it's so boring-"

"Official? But you're the queen?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really want to change something unless it benefits the people. Not after..."

Her smile dims, eyes straying to the palace walls.

Oh- oh.

"You're nothing like him," Cole says firmly, squeezing her hand. "I mean, if you need to take a break, or you can make your job a bit easier by cutting out something unnecessary, that's just gonna help you become a better queen. You've definitely got the interests of your people at heart, and that's the most important thing, you know? And well, uh, everything seems to be going great so far - you don't have to beat yourself up over someone else's mistakes."

"Thanks," she replies softly, her smile slowly returning. "Speaking of breaks, what do you think we should do this time?"

"You could show me around the city again?"

"You've already seen everything cool," Vania giggles, skipping ahead of him. "We don't renovate much - unlike you guys-"

"Hey, it's not our fault that our city gets destroyed every few months-"

"More like every few days," she teases, tying back her golden hair. "How about we find some dragons to adopt?"

"Tempting, but where would you keep them?"

"They could sleep in my room-"

She breaks off when she notices him laughing. "What?"

"N- nothing," Cole replies, in between laughs. "Jay and I just made a bet."

"On what?"

"How many dragons you've adopted. I bet at least six, he bet fifteen."

"Well, jokes on both of you - I'm pretty sure my advisor's going to throw a fit if I show up with another one," she starts, giggling. "We've got twenty living in the palace right now."

"Twenty dragons?"

"They're so cute! You just look into their adorable little eyes," Vania pauses for breath, continuing her animated gesturing, "and you can't help but wanna hug them!"

"Oh, Jay's going to be so mad."

"Aww, I'm sorry guys. They're just too adorable!"

"...Wanna hear a funny story?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"I actually used to be terrified of dragons-"

"No way!" Vania exclaims. "Y'all have been on a lot of adventures though, so-"

"Nah, we used to have our own dragons at first. They were pretty cool! I just- I'm a simple guy! Huge animals with wings are scary up close when you're barely a teenager."

"Or when you're really short-"

"We're the same height!" Cole exclaims, facepalming in a bit of a fondly exasperated way.

"I'm two years younger than you-"

---

"Ugh, whose idea was this?"

"Yours," Vania grins, sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"You were supposed to help me, not leave me high and dry!" Cole accuses jokingly, staring at all the appliances they'd found in the cupboards.

"'One must always be prepared for new adventures,'" she quotes seamlessly, waving one of- what was his name again? Mulch something? Oh! Clutch! Some explorer he was, leaving them to die in the pyramid - Clutch Powers' books in the air.

"Fine," he sighs, staring at the old recipe book she'd found in one of their back cupboards. "But you've gotta help me? I almost burned down-" "Woah, what? If you finish that sentence with 'kitchen'-" "In my defense, Kai was playing a prank on me-" "In my defense, I wouldn't like to explain how the queen of Shintaro burnt down the palace by teaching one of her friends to cook," she grins, flipping through the pages. "What do you wanna start with?" "Something simple?" "Have you ever tried baking bread before? It's a lot of fun!" "I haven't really had the time, but that sounds kinda interesting."

He skims the recipe, raising his eyebrows. "Wait, why does this take hours? I thought you said it was simple?"

"Trust me, it is," she laughs, adding, "besides, I still wanna hear about all your adventures!" "Uh... okay," Cole replies hesitantly, "but if this fails, I'm so sorry." "Give yourself some credit, you guys literally saved the world! Multiple times!" "Bold of y'all to assume we know how we did it," he laughs, only half-kidding. "Besides. I botched soup once."

"I've botched toast," she mock-sighs, smiling. "Pretty sure that makes us even."

"Lemme get this straight. You've messed up toasting bread, but you can bake it from scratch?"

"Trust me, I don't know either," she giggles, trying to open a brightly coloured packet of... something? Did flour come in packets that small?

"Uh, why are you opening something called 'feast'?" he asks, eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Feast," she echoes, trying to stifle her laughter. "Off to a... rocky start, aren't we?"

It took him a second.

"I already regret this," he jokes, facepalming. "But I'd say that your puns are, uh, gold."

"I've un- unleashed-" breaking off, she half-falls off the counter, laughing so hard her face starts to go red, "a monster."

---

"Uh, is it supposed to look like that?" Cole asks, frowning.

The mixture looked less like the dough he'd been expecting - more like one of Jay's inventions gone wrong.

Badly wrong, he thought, eyes widening at the goopy mess of foam that threatened to spill over the jug.

"The yeast?" Vania echoes, poking her head out of one of the cupboards. "Yeah, all good! It always looks a little gross, and you're gonna doubt ever eating bread again, but at least it doesn't taste like it's fermented-"

"It's what?"

"Yeah," she grimaces, exaggerating her disgust a bit. "If aliens ever fell from the sky, they'd think we were crazy for eating bread-"

"Aliens? I think we're a bit crazy!" Cole exclaims, trying not to laugh.

Vania smiles, then sighs, lugging a huge bag of flour onto the counter. "I can never open these bags properly," she starts, eyeing the the bag a bit warily, "and it always makes such a huge mess all over the kitchen. You'd think they'd make it easier for people to use, right? I swear-"

He jokingly puts his hands over his ears. "I can't hear you!" "But you know that I've sworn off swearing-" she replies, breaking off with a laugh. "Pun not intended - that actually made sense in my head. I swear!"

"No," Cole interjects with a grin, shaking his head. "You don't, remember?"

"See, this is why we're friends-"

"Friends? Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, be quiet," she shoots back, exaggeratedly dragging a hand down her face. "I mean, sure, just because everyone thinks that we're dating doesn't mean that we-"

Wait. What?

"People think that we're dating?" he asks, clamping a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle his laughter. "I- I- really?"

"I know, right?"

"Even my friends thought so at first," he confesses, dragging a hand down his face. "I mean, as much as I love you-"

"I love you too," Vania replies, completely seriously. "Even if you'll always be more like an annoying-"

"Hey-"

"Sibling to me than anything else," she finishes, grabbing a pair of scissors. Cole watches, a little alarmed, as she stabs them into the flour bag over and over.

"Is it... supposed to be this difficult to just open the bag? Seems kinda stupid-"

"Well, er, they have this piece of paper with glue that you're supposed to pull away from the rest of the bag, but it never works properly and I-"

"Well, we could always make our own flour," Cole interjects, laughing. "I mean, I've got a scythe? Let's go!"

"Uh, but we don't have wheat growing here. I don't think it'd suit the climate very well?"

"Wheat a shame," Cole sighs jokingly, measuring out the flour (which had, finally, escaped the bag).

"Oh my gosh," Vania deadpans, "you did not just-"

"Yep, I did."

"You're horrible," she giggles, "then again, I was the one who started this whole debacle, so I think we'll share the blame."

"Debacle? Where'd you pick that one up from? Sounds kinda cool-"

"Oh, it's from a book someone wrote about you guys," Vania says casually, pouring a cup of water into the bowl.

"Hey, uh-" Cole starts hesitantly, twisting his fingers back and forth, then breaks off. "Why'd you read all that stuff about us, anyways? Adventure books don't really seem like something you read a lot, since we have similar favorite books. I mean..."

"Well, um..." Vania trails off, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh- I guess, well, it sounds kinda stupid, but I'd never really met anyone my age who wasn't a royal or something. I... er, I didn't want to be left out, you know?"

Cole thinks back to a scroll; a quest, a sacrifice. One that his friends never seemed to really notice, unless it was with horror or flinches. Not that he blamed them, but - joking about how he was much more useful to the team when he was freaking dead than he was before he'd stumbled and fell in the temple?

That had been a bit far, even for his best friend. Locks could always be picked or something, he didn't need to be a ghost to provide some sort of value-

Well, that's not completely true, is it? a small voice questions, and he can't keep his hands from shaking a little.

"Jay here thinks you're the least valuable ninja."

Not enough to be a performer. Now, not good enough to even be a ninja, apparently.

Well, he reminds himself firmly, you don't have to be the best - just stand up to those who are cruel and unjust.

Nothing but a scar that glowed warm orange occasionally left of the whole Cursed Realm ordeal, sometimes it was all too easy to forget - or pretend - that it had never even happened in the first place.

Other times, like when he'd dropped a glass of water on the floor and his hands hadn't stopped shaking for hours, or when he woke up screaming, expecting to fall through his bed again, it still felt like he was trapped as a ghost. Literally - and maybe a little figuratively as well.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

"Thanks for trusting me with that," he replies softly. "And I'm sorry. That sounds... horrible, but, honestly, you're a pretty cool person, and I ain't just saying that because we're friends. People can be awful, and they can- they can leave, but you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not for people to accept you. I kinda know what it's like, and it's... just, uh, not great."

"No, thank you," Vania says, rubbing her eyes. "You're pretty cool, too. And I'm glad that we become friends, even if wasn't in the- the, er, greatest circumstances."

"Right back at ya. The fall was pretty terrifying, though," Cole says casually, as if memories of that nightmarish plunge into the depths of earth don't still send shivers down his spine.

"No, definitely! I was so sure we were gonna splat onto the ground or something, thank gosh we didn't."

"Yeah..." Cole trails off, reading the recipe they'd been following. "Oh- do we just leave the bowl somewhere for a few hours now?"

"Oh, yeah," Vania answers. "Other than clean up the kitchen, what else do you wanna do?"

"That's kind of you, but, ah, I don't mind. You can choose something."

"I don't mind either," she replies, covering the bowl with a dishcloth. "Seriously, I don't."

"Same here though."

"Really, I don't mind-" Vania breaks off with a laugh, adding, "Well, actually, there is something."

She doesn't elaborate, thoughtfully gazing out the window.

"Well, what is it? Don't keep me in the dark."

"Ugh, it's kinda stupid-"

"I'm sure that it's not- well, unless you want to try to jump off a flying ship with a homemade parachute to prove a bet to someone-"

"Do I even wanna know?"

"...uh, probably not. We're way too crazy sometimes, our Master has a hard time keeping us in check. Your thing, though?"

"Can I give you a hug?"

Cole blinks for a second, expecting some sort of punchline.

"That's your thing?"

"Well, yeah- I mean, I said it was kinda stupid-"

"No no, that's not what I meant. You're so sweet - that's all."

"Well, not more than you-"

"Nah, you're sweeter-"

"Let's just call it a tie," Vania says with a smile, reaching over to give her friend a hug. "Thank you so much, I swear- well, no, I don't, but you know, anyways-"

"Yeah," Cole replies, laughing softly. "I know."

[so-writing]

The Head Tolerates What The Heart Wants - Nolan Patrick (3)

One , Two

“You’re a fucking superstar, Nolan, you need to realize that.”

Every part of him that maybe kind of considered the fact that the two of you could possibly be sort of friends burst into flames and those flames engulfed the entire restaurant. 

“Thanks, thank you, that’s.. that’s really kind of you to say.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you sat in silence as you waited for Travis to return with the food, you picking at your nails while Nolan gave his undivided attention to his phone.

What felt like centuries passed before Travis returned with three sandwiches in hand, “I grabbed yours too, Pat.” 

“Thanks,” he whispered and quickly unwrapped the sub, looking everywhere except in your direction. 

*

Seeing Nolan in person and watching him interact with Travis was hard for you. As pathetic as it was, you hated that you still knew his sandwich order and you felt really stupid for having to hold back your tears when Travis brought him something different. 

Only a few months had passed and Nolan had changed, but so had you.

“This has been cool but I’ve gotta get out of here,” Nolan spoke up, “need to meet up with Claude, right Teeks?”

“Yeah, you have that really important meeting so you should go.” 

You saw Nolan give him a thankful glance as he left the restaurant and you noted that Travis rolled his eyes in return. 

“So, how spectacularly did that plan fail? Nolan doesn’t want me, bud. He booked it out of here the first chance he got.”

“Oh shut up,” Travis grinned at you, “you think you know it all but you’ve got no fucking clue. Patty’s an idiot and he knows it. He’s just scared.”

“He’s not scared, and this was a waste of my time. This entire thing has been a waste of time.”

“Wait, you need to listen, I need to tell y-”

“Save it Travis,” you cut him off, “I’m done here.”

You stalked up to the counter and asked for a box before returning to your table and packing up your untouched sandwich and leaving the deli as quickly as your feet could carry you. 

*

“It’s only been a few months since we broke up, why did I get my hopes up that he would have changed his mind? What was I thinking?”

It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you dropped your guard long enough to call your mother and finally tell her everything. Until now, she had no idea why you and Nolan had ended your relationship and definitely none of the details. You sobbed into the phone as she tried her best to console you. 

“Honey, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. You know how much I love Nolan but maybe it’s time you let him go,” she paused for a moment before speaking again, “sometimes the people we love the most aren’t the ones for us. It’s unfair and it’s cruel but maybe it’s for the best.” 

It’s unfair and it’s cruel but maybe it’s for the best.

You repeated your mother’s words over and over in your head as you unfollowed Nolan’s limited social media and blocked the numbers you had for him from your phone. 

Online dating was a completely foreign concept to you, but you threw caution to the wind and downloaded every app available, making sure that your profiles contained your best photos and most interesting short bios. 

*

Nolan wasn’t hiding the fact that he was using dating apps, he just wasn’t talking about it at all unless anyone asked. No one did, so he kept it to himself. 

He was laying on his couch, idly swiping through tinder when the last person he expected to see showed up on his screen.

“What the fuck?”

He clicked on your profile and looked through the photos you posted, unable to deny that you looked fucking incredible. Nolan quickly swiped in favor of a match with you, despite his his strange behavior, because maybe this is what the two of you needed to finally reconnect. 

Deciding tinder wasn’t enough, he fired off a text to you. 

“Hey, I know I’ve weird but I’d really like to grab coffee with you, if you’re willing.” 

Nolan lay on his couch in silence for two hours, with no response from you at all, before deciding to let it go and sleep away his conflicted emotions.

*

“I shouldn’t match with him, right?”

“Of course not, do not match with him. Make him sweat.” 

You swiped Nolan away and responded to his text with a quick response of “i’m not willing.”

It was time to move on and time to let him go.

Interestingly enough, you did match with someone that was kind of in his circle. The Islanders were playing the Flyers tomorrow and you couldn’t deny how attractive a certain Isles player that you might have matched with was. 

“Nolan’s not going to like this.”

“Nolan doesn’t get a fucking say anymore. You are free to spend your free time with anyone you want,” you friend Ash encouraged you to message Mat, telling you that it was time to break free of Nolan.

Mat. Mathew Barzal, he was a super player for the Islanders and you thought he might be just as beautiful as Nolan. The fact that the two of you had matched on Tinder was a surprise but you were taking advantage of it. You didn’t have to do anything though, because he messaged you first.

Hey, I know you. 

How so?

Nolan Patrick, not the case anymore though, eh?

Nope. 

Interesting. Down to meet up after the game? 

Absolutely.

*

You hadn’t planned on going to the game but watching Barzal skate circles around the Flyers made you happy you had changed your mind. 

The Barzal jersey you wore to the game had Travis constantly sending you death glares and Nolan ignoring your existence.

“You don’t get to sit on our side of the stadium and wear that fucking jersey!”

Travis pounded on the glass as he directed his anger at you, “what the fuck are you doing?!” 

Ignoring his yelling, you caught Mat’s eye across the ice and gave him a wink he definitely didn’t see. That didn’t matter though, because both Travis and Nolan saw it.

A few minutes passed before Nolan slammed hard into Mat, hitting him hard in the face with his stick. Travis was there in seconds and the two of them were hitting Barzal like it was a fight to death. 

“Fucking hell,” you whispered, and excused yourself from your seat. 

You spent the rest of the game sitting outside the arena, opposite the opposing team’s locker room. Mat didn’t mean much to you, but he didn’t deserve to be beaten up because your annoying ex boyfriend couldn’t figure out his feelings. 

*

“That wasn’t fun.” 

You were seated in the back of an Uber with Mat Barzal dressed in a nice suit, sporting wet hair, a bloody nose and a black eye.

“I’m so sorry, really, this is all my fucking fault.”

“Yeah,” he smiled easily, “it is, but whatever. My job is to take hits, those weren’t the first and they won’t be the last.”

“Still, fuck, Mat I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, makes me look tough,” he laughed softly.

The Uber stopped in front of his hotel and he guided you up to his room. 

“I’m going to take a shower and then sleep on the couch, the master bed is yours.”

“Mat, what?”

“Sleep well, there is more comfortable stuff for sleeping in the dresser,” he smiled at you before heading into the master bath. 

You lay on Mat’s bed listening to the water run. No part of you wanted to sleep while every ounce of you wanted him. You were tired of pining for Nolan, you wanted Mat and you hoped he wanted you back.

Mat cut the water and you waited impatiently for him to exit the bathroom. When he did, you were more than happy to see his half naked body wrapped in a towel and the surprised look on his face. Rising from the bed, you made you way over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, you softly pecked his lips.

“I want you, Barzal.”

“You sure?” 

“Absolutely,” you separated your body from his and pulled your (his) shirt over your head, “please, take me.”

*

You woke up naked in an unfamiliar hotel room, feeling warm with a muscular arm wrapped around your waist. Shifting beneath his weight, you turned to face Mat. He slept soundly, his dark hair falling in his face as you took in the sight of him. 

As harsh as it might be, maybe it was time to find yourself a new team, and the Islanders were looking ripe for the picking.

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Hot Pepper Challenge

Mammon x poly gn!MC x Leviathan

Words - 2626

Content warnings - humor, some mild language, polyamorous relationship

Prompt/Inspiration - Mammon and Levi engage in a hot sauce battle/hot pepper challenge

Summary - Levi challenges Mammon to a Hot Pepper Challenge and things go about as well as one might expect.

AO3

You weren’t quite sure why you let them talk you into this. Normally, you did a pretty good job of keeping their combined idiocy in check. But for whatever reason, when Mammon and Levi had both come to you, eyes sparkling, full of excitement, you just couldn’t say no.

Levi had heard about a viral trend from the human world whereby you record yourself eating an extremely hot pepper and post it online. And of course, being Levi, he wanted to take things up a notch and make this a contest of sorts between him and Mammon. The prize being a date with you.

How bad could things be? you had thought to yourself. Surely demons were better suited to hot peppers than your average human, right? You would have been correct had Levi been simply intending to ingest human realm varieties. But since he cannot do anything in half measures, he upped the ante by acquiring several varieties of Devildom peppers unbeknownst to you. In fact, it wasn’t until you had started setting up the kitchen with large glasses of milk, with some containers of softened ice cream on standby in the freezer, that you noticed the peculiar peppers Levi was spreading out on the counter.

Not only were they varieties you did not recognize, there were far more of them than you had imagined necessary. It was clear he wasn’t planning on eating just one or two, and you started to have second thoughts about encouraging this activity.

“Um Levi?”

“Yeah?”

“How many peppers are you planning on eating…?”

“As many as I can get Mammon to eat,” he said with a mischievous grin. While he did love the idea of winning an extra date with you, his motives weren’t altogether pure. What he really wanted was to make a viral video for DevilTube...and seeing Mammon suffer because he would be too stubborn to back down from a challenge and admit when he’s had enough? That was icing on the cake.

It was then you realized that there was a good chance Mammon had no idea exactly what he had agreed to, and you knew your sweet, precious idiot wouldn’t be able to stop while he was ahead even after he did. You heaved a frustrated sigh, rolling your eyes at Levi, as you took up your position on the barstool opposite of where he and Mammon were to be sitting. Maybe you could send a text to Mammon, to give him a heads up at least? But no sooner had the thought crossed your mind, than Mammon strode through the kitchen doors, brimming with confidence and smiling broadly.

He walked right over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders before pressing a quick kiss to your temple. He knew he had this in the bag, and had already bought tickets to a concert he was positive you would enjoy. His smile started to falter however, when he caught sight of the lineup of peppers on display. He glanced down at you, and you just gave him a weak smile, not bothering to explain what he clearly knew.

“Uhh, Levi? Whatsup with these peppers?”

“They’re what we are using, of course,” Levi replied, smirking. This was going to be epic.

“Umm, are you crazy?! We agreed to the human realm challenge. Like that video ya showed me.”

“What’s wrong Mammon? Scared?” You glared at Levi who was looking absolutely gleeful at how things were unfolding. You loved him to bits, but he could be outright devious sometimes.

“I ain’t scared!” Mammon snapped, swallowing thickly, “Just makin’ sure we are doin’ things right is all.”

“LOL ok. Then let’s get started.”

“ Fine.”

“Well, let’s get this over with,” you mumbled to yourself, as you positioned your DDD on the mini tripod Levi had provided you. Mammon and Levi took their seats, with Mammon doing his best to keep a straight face. He hadn’t even touched the peppers yet, and was already sweating bullets.

“You know, you guys really don’t have to do this. I can just go on separate dates with…”

“NO!” They both replied, in sync. Despite the fact that Mammon looked like he was about to cry, he was still staunchly determined to win and somehow impress you. And Levi, of course, was not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

You sighed again. These two were going to be the death of you, you were sure.

“Fine, ready when you are,” you said as you began recording.

Levi started with his standard DevilTuber introduction, before introducing Mammon, and thanking you for assisting. At least the color was returning to Mammon’s face and he didn’t look quite so terrified now that everything had begun and he slipped into the same headspace he used when working his modeling gigs.

Just gotta put on a performance. It didn’t really matter how hot the peppers were, there was no way Levi was going to be able to handle them. All he had to do was outlast Levi, he thought, trying to reassure himself.

“Now for the rules! We will be starting with the mildest pepper here, rated at 2,000,000 SHU all the way up to the hottest variety at 16,000,000 SHU. First one to drink the milk, loses.

Ready?”

Mammon nodded.

“Go!”

And without any further ado, the loves of your life took massive bites out of the first peppers.

And you waited.

And you watched.

Levi was the first to start squirming, his face becoming progressively more red. He immediately regret his decision to wear his usual outfit and quickly removed his jacket, tossing it to the side.

Mammon on the other hand, was nibbling on what remained of his first pepper. He was relieved that this was the variety they started with, because it was the same one used to flavor his beloved Hell Sauce Noodles. And judging by the look on Levi’s face, he wasn’t going to be lasting much longer.

“What’s the matter, Levi? Too hot for ya?” he taunted.

“Shut up. I’m just getting started.”

It may have appeared that Levi had overlooked Mammon’s love of spicy things, but this was all part of his Master Plan to lull him into a false sense of security. At least that’s what he was telling himself. In reality, he had completely forgotten about it and hadn’t thought to check the ingredients for the cup noodles he knew Mammon was so fond of. But there was no way he was going to admit to that.

“Ready?” asked Levi, as he grabbed the next pepper in the lineup.

“Yup.”

This one wasn’t much hotter than the first, so Mammon quickly polished it off, licking any stray juices off his fingers. If things kept up at this rate, he was going to have this in the bag. He just had to hope that Levi gave up long before they reached the final pepper that Mammon knew for a fact was way too hot for something anyone had any business eating.

Levi kept stealing nervous glances at the nearby glass of milk, and you briefly considered offering it to him but decided that would only egg his competitive nature on and have the opposite intended effect. So instead, you continued on in your role as a silent observer and camera operator. At least Mammon was handling things well, so far, which allowed you to relax some.

“Next,” Levi choked out. This third variety was the one he personally had to stop at in his practice runs. He didn’t know what he was going to do if Mammon was able to take it as well as the previous two. “Ruri-chan help me,” he whispered under his breath.

Mammon confidently picked up the third pepper, taking a large bite from it as he had done with the others, flashing you a brilliant smile in the process. But after a few moments, you noticed the heat start to rise to his cheeks as he quickly shuffled off his jacket. It seemed this variety was a good leap up on the heat scale, one Mammon was absolutely not expecting.

Even though Levi was on the brink of tears, it did not escape his notice when Mammon had started showing a reaction. He fist pumped internally, sitting up a little bit taller, having regained some of his confidence from earlier. Just a bit more, he thought, one more was all he needed to break Mammon. He just had to tough it out a tiny bit longer.

“Next.”

This time Mammon was a bit more hesitant, but he wasn’t about to back down now. Not after he had come this far.

So he took his first bite, and the reaction was almost immediate. Tears welled up in his eyes, sweat started pouring down his face, and he could even feel his nose start to run. He sniffled, trying to maintain his composure, not wanting to let on just how badly he was being affected, and shot a sideways glance to Levi.

Levi was sobbing at this point, not even bothering to conceal the pain he was in as the tears streamed down his cheeks. He knew he needed to swallow, to get the pepper out of his mouth, but his body was fighting against him and refusing to let it happen. So instead he simply sat there, as more and more heat gathered on his tongue. He swore he could feel a hole starting to form in his mouth, the longer he kept the pepper there, but finally he managed to gag/cough in such a way he was able to choke it down.

Dumbasses. That’s what they are. Dumbasses.

“Ready to give up, Levi?” Mammon taunted.

“HA! As if. This is nothing,” but his tear stained face was telling quite a different story.

“Next pepper.”

“Right. Next pepper.”

“Yep.”

“Yep.”

The boys stared at the next variety before them, neither eager to take another bite. They kept stealing glances at the other, daring one another to reach for the milk. Both were regretting their life choices at this point, and Mammon was saying a small prayer, to whoever listened to demons, that if they just let him win this challenge, he’d walk the straight and narrow and stop stealing from his brothers. Except Levi. Levi deserved everything he had coming to him.

“...are we stopping here…?” you asked. It had been a good five minutes now of them just staring at their peppers and occasionally looking at one another. They both jumped at the sound of your voice, having forgotten completely about you and the fact this was all being recorded.

“Nope!” was all Levi said as he grabbed the next pepper, and brought it to his lips, Mammon following suit. With one final glance at the other, they took a bite.

Mammon was crying now, his nose running, and his whole face and neck flushed. This had to be the worst decision he had ever made, and that included all the shit he had pulled that had resulted in him strung up by the rafters for days on end. Why? Why had he decided this was a good idea? It wasn’t like you didn’t go on enough dates with him already. You spent plenty of time together. He should have just been content with what he had. Now he was going to die for sure before he ever got to take you anywhere again.

At some point Levi had removed his shirt and was now sitting bare chested, bracing himself against the counter top. His upper body was so red he honestly looked more like a tomato than a demon. He was breathing heavily, as he struggled against every fiber of his being that was urging him to just admit defeat like the loser he was and chug the damn milk. But he couldn’t. It would be more humiliation than he could bare if you had to see him give up after he was the one that started this whole thing and had been so smug and confident about it.

Involuntarily, Mammon reached out and grabbed the glass of milk. It felt so cool on his palm. When he realized what he had done, he tried to let go, but his self preservation instincts had reached their limits and were not about to let that happen.

Levi noticed Mammon’s movements, and he couldn’t help but smile. Well, he tried to smile. It looked more like one of those “please pity me” smiles as he psychically begged Mammon to take the first sip. His eyes were blurry with tears, and before he even knew what he was doing, Levi had wiped the sweat and tears away from them.

The moments that followed were pure and absolute chaos.

Levi stared at his hand in absolute horror. What had he done?! Without hesitation, he grabbed the glass of milk and dumped it on his face.

“HA!” Mammon called out, before quickly chugging down his own glass of milk.

“I DIDNT DRINK IT!” Levi whined, scrambling to the freezer so he could start on the ice cream.

“LIKE HELL YOU DIDNT!”

“YOU LOST!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT YOU STUPID IDIOT! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STOP SOONER!”

“YOURE THE ONE WHO STARTED THIS, DUMBASS!”

You watched on as Mammon and Levi took turns crying and yelling, hurling insults at each other, through gulps of milk and mouthfuls of ice cream. There wasn’t much else you could do really besides sit there and make sure they didn’t fling anything on your DDD, wondering exactly how long they were going to keep this up for.

As their wailing continued, Lucifer popped his head in to see what all the fuss was about, ready to lay into Mammon. But when he saw him writhing in pain on the floor, shoving hunks of bread into his overstuffed mouth, he realized there wasn’t anything he could do to punish him more thoroughly than how he was suffering right now. He also caught sight of Levi, who was now laying on his stomach, cheek flushed to the floor while he spread out his limbs to get as much contact with the cool surface as possible.

Even though the pain in his mouth had subsided, (whether because he managed to clear out of all traces of the peppers, or because his nerve endings had simply been burnt away, he didn’t know) his body was impossibly hot and at some point he had also removed his pants, leaving him in nothing but his Azuki-tan boxers. He knew he should be embarrassed to be in such a state of undress not only in front of you, but in a public place like the kitchen, but he didn’t care. The only thing that kept him from jumping into Henry’s fish tank was the exhaustion that was weighing down his limbs, and the thought of how much work it would be to access the top of the tank.

A smug smile spread across Lucifer’s face, satisfied with his brother's joint misery. When he turned to look at you, he briefly felt something akin to pity, but you were as much to blame for this as they were, as far as he was concerned. You had chosen them, after all, for reasons that Lucifer couldn’t quite fathom, and you knew exactly what you had been getting yourself into when you had done so.

So, with a wave of his hand Lucifer wished you “Good luck” as he left the kitchen and headed towards his study to relax to one of his favorite records. One that he felt would harmonize perfectly with the sounds of their suffering.

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 4

A/N Oops early post. I couldn’t contain myself

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

The muffle of heavy footsteps outside the front door had Jonah and I halting our breaths in our chests in anticipation. We were expectedly on edge. Thankfully, it was just the mail delivery and the security sensor at the front step set off a little notification noise from the main monitor that was set up on the kitchen counter. When the metal mailbox closed and the footsteps faded back towards the street, I moved over to the main monitor and typed in the code and scrolled through the notification menu. The film footage from the studio was still gone but it was listed as having been deleted around 8pm the night before.

“Anything of interest?” Jonah asked.

“Not really.” I mumbled and turned back to face him. “I’m going to look around a little more.”

“Alright. I’ll look around here.” he looked me up and down, “Maybe change your clothes while you’re at it.”

I glanced down at my white hoodie and white jeans, both pieces of clothing stained dark red all up the back from where I had been laying all night and my bloody handprint was smeared over the chest of my hoodie. Good idea.

I returned to the master bedroom and set my laptop bag on the bed and let my computer turn on while I headed into the walk-in closet to find clean clothes. The two garment bags hanging on the far wall in front of the mirror had me stopping in place with my hand on the light switch. I hesitated as if not having expected them to be there; even if I had known they would be returned home by Jonah and my brother along with the wedding gifts two weeks ago. I shuffled over to unzip the first black garment bag, dragging my hand down the smooth white dress that had been hidden underneath. A few smudges of red were left behind from my touch and I pulled my hand back quickly and wiped my blood-stained fingers on my pants.

I forced myself to swallow back any feelings as I zipped the bag back up and focused my attention on pulling black jeans from the shelf and a black t-shirt from a hanger. I took them into the ensuite bathroom and closed the door behind me as if I were trying to shut out something or suddenly needed some privacy. Funny that the only invasive things in the damn house was the weird feeling of guilt and realization and utter confusion that was eating me alive.

My hands were holding myself up on the edge of the counter and I was breathing hard, staring myself in the eye through the spotless mirror. Avalon always liked things clean.

Although I had been passed out on my studio floor for God knows how long that night, I still looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks. I seemed to have a layer of drying blood all over me and it matted my dyed blonde hair down in unattractive dark clumps and stained my white clothes evilly. The dark circles under my eyes didn’t seem like they were just from the flight home and the pale complexion that stared back at me didn’t even feel like my own. I ran my hand over my face, staring at how my slightly sticky fingers tugged at my skin, drawing more attention to my eyes and dry lips…honestly, who was I? My wife was dead – her throat slit and she was left to bleed out – and I was more worried about my face in the mirror.

I could see her eyes in my mind. Those lifeless brown eyes staring at me with all the unrevealable answers to the world. And yet, only days before, she was looking up at me with those same honey brown eyes, full of love and lust, on a king size bed in Costa Rica and whispering how much she loved me.

You have to understand, dear reader, that I had no clue what I was doing or what I was feeling. So you cannot truly blame me when the only reaction to my current situation was my body sending me to my knees in front of the toilet to throw up the limited plane food in my stomach as the metallic smell of blood flooded my senses. It was all too much.

I didn’t know what we had to do next, but I knew that whatever the plan was going to be, we had to move quickly. So I stripped out of my blood-stained clothes and into the clean ones, only stopping long enough to wipe any blood from my skin with a damp cloth until I looked reasonably tame in my reflection. I wet my hair under the tap to get the worst of the blood out of it and ruffled it with a towel before saying ‘good enough’ and headed back to the bedroom.

If I was in fact a murderer, no amount of water was going to cleanse this conscious.

I sat on the edge of the bed and typed in my password to my laptop. The screen loaded and brought up the last tab that was open; the flight information home. The site had updated and stated that the plane had landed on time at LAX yesterday evening and my credit card receipt showed the taxi payment for thirty minutes later. We were home around 7:00. Other than confirming the times at which we returned home, the laptop didn’t offer much assistance.

What did I expect? The screen to read out exactly how my wife was murdered?

Jonah came into the room, “Hey. Find anything?”

I glanced up at him before looking back down at the screen, biting anxiously at my fingernail, “No. Don’t remember anything more either.”

Jonah didn’t answer, letting me have a moment to collect my thoughts. I didn’t blame him; what do you say to your best friend who possibly just murdered their wife and doesn’t remember it. I swiped my finger over the trackpad on my laptop to bring up the other window that was open; iMessage. The last conversation thread that was up was between Avalon and me. I remembered it well.

I was down at the resort bar the night before we left. Jonah had sent me a recording that he wanted my opinions on and I had a few changes I wanted to make so I took myself downstairs with my headphones and my laptop and got some work in. Cocktail in one hand and mouse in the other, I worked until the notification popped up on the bottom menu of my screen.

It would be nice if you spent our last night up here with me.

I had ignored it, huffing and rolling my eyes at her constant pestering and minimized the window again.

God…stupid me. That would have been our last night together. And she didn’t even face towards me when I finally came to bed.

“You weren’t around me!” she yelled, tapping her hand against the cup in her hand so the sound of her ring against the glass punctuated each of her words. “What person wants to spend their honeymoon alone? Of course, I wanted to go home! I was basically there by myself and I was miserable!”

“I had to get some shit done! Jonah needed me to double check a few things while we were away. It’s not the end of the world and I’m sorry if you feel that way!”

I could see her visibly tense and she turned her head so she didn’t have to look at me, jabbing under her breath, “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it? ‘Always gotta get some shit done’. Well, I’m sick and tired of coming second to your work all the time.”

I made her miserable.

“Jonah.” I breathed, turning to look at him over the top of my laptop, “What if she killed herself?”

“She didn’t seem suicidal.” Jonah said.

“Yeah.” I sighed, turning back to the screen. I let out a heavy breath and closed my laptop and tucked it back in the case. “We have to decide what to do.”

“Alright. What are you thinking?” Jonah asked.

I thought for a moment as I set my laptop bag back on top of the untouched suitcase by the wall, “I don’t know. I need time to figure out what the hell happened.”

“Do you want to head to the lodge in Utah? It will buy you a few days and maybe we can figure out what happened by then.”

I nodded, letting out a deep breath, “Yeah, okay. That probably makes the most sense.”

I walked past Jonah and out of the master bedroom, stopping shuffle through the mail that had been collected by Jonah and Christian throughout the last three weeks and placed in a decorative bowl on the front console table. I ruffled through a few bills and random mailer coupons, just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything that I might want to take with me out of state. My search stopped dry at one crisp white envelope, addressed to our house and labelled with simply Avalon with no surname. I frowned and slid my finger under the sealed flap to tear it open.

“Bro, opening other people’s mail is a federal offence.” Jonah stated as he joined me by the table.

“She’s dead, Jonah. I don’t think it really matters anymore.” I answered flatly and pulled out the folded piece of lined stationary from the envelope.

Avalon,

Things are hard right now and I get that but shutting me out isn’t going to help anyone. You can’t give up on me. I really want to see you when you get home. Please let me know when you get this. I need to make things right.

-J

My heart felt like someone was pushing it through a juicer and I frowned down at the paper as I read it a second time. The second time didn’t make it hurt any less. I rubbed my hand over my chest and then ruffled it through my damp hair.

“What the fuck is this?” I breathed. I looked at Jonah, “Who’s J? Is it you?”

“Me? Why would I write her suspicious letters when I can just text her?” Jonah replied.

“Yeah.” I sighed and looked back down at the letter. I clenched my jaw and swallowed back the hurt and strange glimmer of jealousy that was bubbling up inside my empty stomach. “Maybe there’s something on her phone.”

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15​

[sword-of-summer]

All of them answer every question fuck you

ahahaha no i respectfully deny your "fuck you" and i accept the ask and so-

i am 5'10", and i don't wish to be taller or shorter- i am the perfect height for hugs and messy hair, and yep, i like it here-

dream pet would be a mix of golden retriver and a husky called Holly and a chonky cat called Loki- yes ofcourse my future kids have names everyone should name their future pets-

ripped jeans/black pants with a Darth Vader tshirt or a Ethnic Fusion Kurta with black sneakers/artificial leather slip-ons, and if it's cold, a black jacket open obviously- and a black wristwatch i love my black wristwatch.

favourite video game was Clash of Clans and going even back, GTA Vice City and, the og- MARIIOOOO

three things/people are Oreos, Nutella and Pizza. The Holy Trinity-

"Beware me my fingers are smeared with chicken popcorn grease"

you didn't mention an opinion, @chunkybirb, so imma give my opinion on Vanilla ice cream and Nutella- ANYONE WHO HADN'T COMBINED THESE TWO COMBINE THESE TWO THEY ARE FUCKING AWESOME

im either phlegmatic or melancholic bruh idk maybe ik or maybe not

im v v v v ticklish

not an allergy, but an intense hatred for ketchup- i vomit if it gets too close to me fuck you ketchup

im heterosexual

any between tea and coffee but full milk coffee (ik, kill me), never had cocoa- but i love a chocolate or nutella milkshake

both. both is good. (cat and dog)

i would be an elf cause hell yeah, knowledge and wisdom

favourite youtuber is Samay Raina, a stand up comedian turned youtuber who is just awesome-

as i mentioned in 1., i am 5'10"

i would not change my name cause it's the coolest fucking name ever, i am Tanay, and Tanay in Hindi means Son, and my parents literally named their son Son, and hell yeah i like it

i forgot how much i weigh- last i checked it was 75 kilos, but ive gained weight since 2019 so yep, gotta walk in the mornings

yes i believe in metaphysicality cause one- it seems cool- second- me and @theclassyghost discussed a metaphysical life theory that i really really like and metaphysicality gives preservation of knowledge so i believe in spirits

SPACE. SPACE. SPACE.

im not that religious, no

pet peeves no well nah not really

nocturnal def nocturnal i sleep at 4.50 anyway hehehehe

fav constellation is Cassiopeia

fav star is Sirius tho

what the fuck are ball jointed dolls

i do have a fear of losing people that's just anxiety i guess

yep, global warming is real

never thought that much about reincarnation tbh but maybe, i do

fav movie is Spider Man : Into The SpiderVerse and Inception and The Dark Knight Rises and Revenge of The Sith and yes, for my indian gang, 3 Idiots and Gully Boy

yep i get scared v v v easily

i have had no pets but i plan to once i grow up

@chunkybirb 's blog is fucking cool awesome and *chef's kiss* a masterpiece

blue calms me. i love blue.

live in Norway cause pretty lights, snow, and less people than this overpopulated country i am in

born in Mumbai, India

v v v dark brown like it's almost black but no it's dark brown

introvert

horoscopes and zodiacs, i do read them, never believed that much tbh-

HUGS I LOVE HUGS

i really wanna visit my brother i haven't met him in a long time i really wanna play cricket w him just like old times

my sister- she's annoying but well i care for her

nah

tattoos idk bruh im okay idk may get one or may not get one

nope, smoking is ewwww *vomits*

ah my crush- she's cool [ if she exists

when the chalk doesn't write on the board but goes iiiiiieeee I HATE THAT

a sound i love is rain pitter pattering i just hhhhhh sends me into happiness

nope fatass here

nope fatass here

favourite actors have to be eddie redmayne, oscar issac and pedro pascal- and margot robbie and winona ryder in the actresses section also yes, elliot page

bruh already answered in 30.

im okayish!! spotify and tumblr, cool combo-

my hair are okay being black for me

yesterday, monday, from 6.40 to 6.50

music

uhhh naah not that i know of

well in Rick Riordan's Magnus Chase books, the sword of Frey aka Sumarbrander TALKS and demands to be called Jack, so here i am

bakwaas, music and comfy

yep, i believe in evolution

unfollow on hate and when they dm me sending nsfw pics ugh why are people like that

follow, well, i like people and they seem cool, so i follow them

fav kind of person is the one who'll sit with me for hours not even talking and just vibing to music

fav animals are beavers, doggos and cats

three fav blogs are @chunkybirb, @theclassyghost, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @aredhel-of-gondolin, @sue-me-imbadass, @alleenkaas, @my-ackerman, @brrrrrrrrrrzone

fav emoticon has to be ☹ this me seeing my stupidity outrank others

fav meme has to be Butternut is a master of psychological manipulation

INTP

Libraaa let's go

no dog, i have

black darth vader tshirt, black pants, black sneakers and black wrist watch

i have no selfies my phone has no cameras i live in eternal darkness

what the fuck are platform shoes

i, uhhh, i remember weird things like what i drew in class in 3rd while i was supposed to be doing english

lazy ass here, no front flips possible

i like birds they fly

nope i don't Iike swimming i like blankets

wrapped up in blankets reading books sounds better than both

ketchup

hyperspace travel

nope none

reading writing eating sleeping

my friend

tumblr seems cool

i have around 60-70 idk

yes i can run but why

yes they do but what's the fun in that

nope I'd fall over

sapphire let's go

koala bear or panda

sunflower or the one on a lemon tree

ketchup store

one cup of coffee is enough, tysm

read minds that sounds cool cool yeaaahh

nope never wore it a black clothes guy here BatMan

winter winter all year long

i don't know and i don't wanna try

i don't know and i don't wanna know

everyone cause they are better than me

bookstores cause bookstores any bookstores

sneakers, black onez

apparently some gas bitches mixed up to form a planet

non vegetarian but i partake meat just twice or thrice in two weeks

i don't know they don't seem like liking

naaaaaaaah

bugs ew

spiders ew

about the fact that i come off as arrogant and overconfident while in reality it's just that my communication skills suck

i can draw averagely whenever im in a mood

this thing im answering but i like answering it

uhhhhhhh brain freeze- idk bruh questions are good they give knowledge

yep, while sleeping

ahh yes calming, they are

cloudy days cause fucking cool vibes

hehehe wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy

CumuloNimbus i really like it's name yknow nimBUS

dark blue, dark blue always or black

naaaah no freckles

fav thing is when they laugh and it's just happy and we're both laughing like shitheads but who cares we're rebelling against depressing life and we laugh

both. both is good [ fruits and vegetables

sleep but i have to answer 170 questions cause @chunkybirb

sky sky sky it's my blog's header duh uh sKy

sweet and sour candy. SWEET AND SOUR CANDY.

dim lights it makes me feel cool

ahhh so here we go- Mooncalfs, Thunderbirds, Phoenixes, Sphinxes, Dragons that seem to be Space Nebulae, and more and more and more

i really feel like a boomer sometimes

i love everything about this site/app it makes me feel happy cause i like the people and the posts

uhhhhh i think too much about everything cause i just do. i like thinking

"He's dead, guys. For the sake of The Force, please watch Star Wars now he wanted to discuss it with you" actually no i would just say "A big shoutout to Garlic Bread he loved Garlic Bread"

myself cause i should be sleeping but sleep is for the weak and i am the weak and the strong i am a paradox-

that i obsess too much on things and try involving people it never works out

nope. had braces for 4 years, that beat out teeth showing smiles

i prefer computer-tv ahahahahaha

never tried them, so IDK

naaaaah not motion sickness- never travelled by sea so idk seasickness

lobed ears

yep i believe that deeds do count in life and beyond

idk bruh i don't believe in physical attraction too much- bodies are fake- mentally/metaphysically tho, im a 7

ahhhhh many many Stupid Genius, Tani, Tanu, Tanya

i still do-

i really want to talk to a therapist. converse. and discover.

im both, i am both.

10:1 is the ratio- giving 10, receiving 1

uhhh nothing just when i am right and people use the old "disrespect" argument

3, Hindi, Marathi, English

girls

uhh no i am not

my hair i love them everyone says things about my hair but i love them

knowledge vibes i give, someone tells me- and that's all i ever wanted

anyone i know tbh, my mutuals, my friends, my discord friends

ahhh no i wouldn't but i wish i was born 20 years earlier

bleh bloo, neither like nor dislike

i don't know if i have one

i don't know, haven't had physical contact in a long long long time in a galaxy far far away

the above point stands but i would like to ig

anything i write, 3 hours later, i instantly hate just idk why

anything i write

that i am normal no i am not and i am not okay hahahahaha

65-70 ish people

somewhere around-

many many many don't ask please but okay if you do ask

somewhat

uhhhhh idr exactly but i won't tell in public duh uh

mediummm hairrrr

last year lockdown i became harry potter

i don't know buddy i seriously don't know

yep i do cause knowledge i like knowledge

naaah never tried

no i definitely cannot stand on my hands or my head for more than 30 seconds

yep, im pretty sure i answered most of them correctly-

og link-

[jmeelee]

Except at Waffle House

A Sterek AU inspired by that ridiculous Reddit post about the girl who’s BF keeps fighting the cook at Waffle House.

As far as boyfriend’s went, Braeden hit the jackpot when she met Derek Hale. She hadn’t been looking for a partner when she’d stepped into the first class of her Master’s program, but there he’d been, sitting dead-center of the third row in the cavernous lecture hall.  Derek was… different.  Intelligent, well-read, handsome, driven; he’d weathered tragedy and trauma with elegance, emerging on the other side with a soft-spoken grace.  He made Braeden laugh with a wit so dry it kindled a fire in her belly.  To other women, Derek’s obscene good looks—chiseled jawline, soft hair the color of midnight, ass you could bounce quarters off of—might have been his biggest draw, but for Braeden, it was Derek’s hard-won composure.  When she decided to drop out of the Federal Marshall program and pursue her own independent career, Derek never batted an eye.  When she came home from dangerous missions sporting cuts, scrapes and bruises, he didn’t rage over her playing fast and loose with her own welfare.  He simply said, “I’m glad you’re home safe.”  Derek never yelled, never lost his temper, never fought.  He was a dream come true.

Except at Waffle House.

Truth be told, Braeden didn’t love Waffle House, but food was food and a girl’s gotta eat. Derek, however, had some deep-seated appreciation of the greasy chain that stretched back into his childhood, before his parents and older sister died. So while she preferred to eat elsewhere, Braeden found herself at Waffle House a few times a week, feeding Derek’s desire to reconnect with fond adolescent memories.

“Service might be a bit slower today,” said their usual waitress, who’s bright yellow name tag read Erica.  She plopped an iced-tea in front of Braeden, and a steaming cup of black coffee before Derek.  Erica snapped her bubblegum, pulled a tiny notepad from the pocket of her black apron, and snatched a stubby pencil out of her perky blonde ponytail.  “Boyd’s training a new cook.  What’re y’all having?”

Sure enough Boyd, the owner of the franchise, stood at the grill, patiently pointing at burners and griddles while the long-fingered hands of the tall, thin guy next to him flew around like drunk hummingbirds.  Braeden figured the new cook was replacing Scott, who had quit the line to attend Veterinary school.  When you spent several days a week eating there, the Waffle House family became your family.

Braeden was known to make her way through the various menu items.  Some people had their tried and true staples, but she preferred to throw tradition to the wind. One day it was pecan waffles, the next, chili smothered hash browns.  Today, a cheese steak omelet.  Derek however was a creature of habit.  “I’ll have the--”

“Steak and eggs,” Erica interrupted, graphite scratching over the paper.  “Steak medium-rare and egg yolks slightly runny.  Whole wheat toast, well done.”

“You got it,” Derek said agreeably, handing over his flimsy laminated menu.  “Thanks, Erica.”

They filled the void between placing their order and receiving their food with anecdotes from work and a fast and furious game of hangman on the back of their paper placemats.  Waffle House may be lacking in sophistication, but it’s service was always speedy.        

“Here ya go.” Erica plunked plates in front of them and topped off Derek’s coffee.  “Let me know if you need anything else.” But the call bell rang in the kitchen and she bustled away, already half-way down the aisle.

Three forkfuls of cheesy goodness passed her lips before Braeden realized Derek was poking at yellow lumps on his platter with a stiff triangle of toast, watching the yolks crumble like a house of sand.  She finished chewing, swallowed.  “Derek?  Is something wrong?”

“It’s my eggs,” he lamented.  “They’re super hard.  Not runny at all.”

Had she known the repercussions of her next words, Braeden might have given them more thought.  But unbeknownst to her, she was about to score red on the Waffle House Index of how prepared she was to weather the coming shit storm.   

“Just call Erica back,” Braeden suggested, waving her fork in the air.  “The kitchen can whip up another batch. No big deal.”  

Famous last words.  

Erica flounced over, ponytail swinging behind her.  “Sorry about that, honey,” she chirped.  “The new cook is still finding his groove.  I’ll be right back with the correct order.”

Derek thanked her again but watched with hazel eagle eyes as she brought the plate back to the open kitchen, speaking to the mole-speckled guy at the grill whose bed head hair was barely contained under his dorky paper hat.  Derek squirmed in his seat.

Braeden’s eyebrows furrowed.  “That’s a really complex call-in system these employees need to learn.  And all that crazy code with the jelly and mayo packets?  They’re bound to make mistakes sometimes.”

Derek grunted, watching Erica return with a heaping plate of eggs.  This time they were scrambled.  “These are scrambled,” he said stupidly, blinking at the fluffy little clouds.

Looking down, Erica seemed to see them for the first time.  She rolled her eyes and groaned.  “Ugh.  Stiles.”

“Yeah, it’s a style of eggs, just not the one I ordered.”

“No,” Erica shook her head.  “S-T-I-L-E-S.  Stiles is our new cook.  I promise I’ll be back with the correct eggs in a few.”

But ten minutes later a plate of thinly sliced hard-boiled eggs laid out in a flower pattern was placed in front of Derek.  Braeden couldn’t help it, she threw back her head and laughed.  “At this point, I think the cook’s fucking with you,” she told him.

But Derek wasn’t in on the joke.  He pushed the plate away and threw money down on the table.  “Hopefully both his cooking and his comedy routine improves,” Derek grumbled, pulling on his leather jacket.

Maybe now they could finally eat at some different restaurants.

----------

Three days later, they were back at Waffle House.

“There are over 1,500 other Waffle Houses in America,” Braeden said for the millionth time, waving her map app in Derek’s face.  “Look, there’s one twelve miles away.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Derek scowled, sending his second plate of eggs back to the kitchen.  First, they were poached, then they were part of a bacon egg and cheese sandwich.

The third time a single slice of toast sat on a wide white plate, a perfect circle cut from the center.  Inside the circle was an egg.  Cooked over-hard.  

Braeden took a fortifying breath of humid maple-scented air.

“Okay I’ve had enough,” Derek yelled, standing up from the booth.  “You,” he pointed at Stiles the cook, who stared back with a wide insolent mouth and tricky amber eyes.  “Take this garbage back and cook my eggs the right way.” 

Stiles slowly pulled a dirty apron over his neck, dislodging his ridiculous hat, and sauntered around the counter on long legs to stand in front of Derek, crowding into his personal space.  Toe to toe, there was barely any difference in height between the two men, though their body types varied greatly.  Derek was built like a brick shithouse, Stiles like a twink.  

“Is there a problem, dude?” Stiles asked coolly, with the poker face of an Easter Island head. The only crack in his stone facade was the tiny quirk at the edge of his pert lips.    

“Yeah,” Derek growled, pushing a finger into Stiles’ thin chest, “my problem is you and your shitty egg cooking skills.”

“Shitty?” The quirk blossomed into a fully grown smirk.  “I’ve made you several plates of superb eggs, dude.  It’s not my fault you won’t even try them.”

“Quit calling me dude.”

“Sure thing, buddy.” Stiles winked and stared Derek down like a cowboy in a duel with nothing left to live for.  Where had Boyd found this sadist cook?

“My name is Derek. Not buddy. Not dude.  Derek.” The words leaked out between Derek’s clenched teeth. Braeden could slice American cheese off his jaw right now.

Stiles smiled like he’d won the lottery, angling his body slightly away from Derek, but never breaking eye contact.  “Hey Waffle House, Derek here thinks my eggs suck.  Do all of you fine, upstanding people think my eggs are good?”  Stiles got several thumbs-up, two enthusiastic whistles, and one wrinkled middle finger from a white-haired man hunched over at the service counter.  Stiles gave the guy a thumbs up. “Thanks for your honesty mister.  It’s much appreciated.”

“What the hell was that?  What are you trying to do?” Derek was snarling, and the look between both men was lethal. Eyes sparked.  Lips wetted.  Fingers twitched. Braeden held her breath, sure fists would start flying at any second.  Derek made muted sounds of rage worthy of an aspiring ventriloquist. They were too close, puffed out chests a hair's-breadth apart. 

Stiles shrugged.  “My Waffle House, my rules.  Rule number one, pull that stick out of your ass, Derek.”

Derek took Stiles by the surprisingly broad shoulders and backed him into the coat rack.  “Next time I’m here, you’re gonna make me my food the way I order it.”

As quick as it started, the altercation was over.  Derek backed out of the overcoats, and Stiles came stumbling after like two teenagers emerging from a closet after seven minutes in heaven.  Derek made a beeline for the exit.

“Oh yeah?” Stiles yelled at Derek’s retreating back.  “I'll show you sunny side up!”

The whole thing was made even more ridiculous by the merrily tinkling overhead bell as Derek slammed outside.

_______

“Feeling up for trying Schwarma tonight?” Braeden asked when they pulled into the lot and parked next to Stiles’ run down blue Jeep.

“Not a chance,” Derek replied, practically backflipping out of the Camaro.

----------

“Derek, NO!” she said.

DEREK, YES he heard, and Derek, her Derek, the pinnacle of poise, yeeted himself over the counter, grabbing the yellow crossover uniform tie around Stiles’ neck.

----------

“At least Stiles didn’t spike Derek’s drink with meth,” Erica shrugged.  Today the two men were rolling around on the greasy tile floor.  

“Are you being ironic?” Braeden asked, taken aback by the seriousness of Erica’s tone.

“Waffle House is an irony-free zone,” Boyd informed her with a straight face. “I’m just thankful there’s no AR-15s or nudity today.”

“Yet,” Erica leered.

What the hell happened at Waffle House?!

----------

“I’ll have an Angus patty melt, and a slice of Aunt Maggie’s Triple Chocolate pie, please,” Braeden ordered as chaos descended around her.  “It’s like when I have food in front of me, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.”

“That’s the magic of Waffle House,” Erica said sagely.

“It’s something,” Braeden replied. 

----------

She was scattered, smothered, covered in food debris, collateral damage from Stiles and Derek’s ongoing war.

“Don’t worry, Hunny,” a friendly woman in the adjacent booth told her.  “Throw a tide pod in with that shirt and the stains will come right out!  Just don’t eat it like those crazy kids are doing these days.”

“Who in their right mind would eat a tide pod?” Braeden asked.

  The answer was a serious side-eye.  “Who in their right mind would keep returning to a restaurant to tussle with the cook?”

Touche.

----------

Waffle House had a special Valentine’s Day candlelight dinner, which Braeden could have happily gone her whole life not knowing about or participating in.  

Erica sat them right next to the fancy new digital touchscreen jukebox.  Stiles came out, fed the machine twenty dollars, and set it to play “I Touch Myself” by Divinyls two-hundred and forty times on repeat.

Braeden wasn’t sure if Derek touched himself that night, but any guy who took her on a Valentine date to Waffle House and proceeded to fist-fight the cook certainly wasn’t going to be touching her.

__________

Braeden parked down the road and walked to Waffle House, unsurprised to find Derek’s car in the parking lot.  She’d quit going with him two weeks ago. To so many hungry, lost, and seriously hammered people, Waffle House’s warm yellow glow was a beacon of salvation.  For Braeden, who watched from the peaceful vantage point of the parking lot as her boyfriend grappled the skinny cook into a headlock and proceeded to give him a vicious noogie, it would forever be a reminder that Derek was the perfect guy for her, except when it came to Stiles.  Once upon a time, Braeden appreciated the fact that women everywhere were always looking at her man. He turned heads, but none of them ever seemed to turn his.  Except at Waffle House, and it wasn’t a woman.

Derek walked out of the restaurant twenty minutes later to find her sitting on the hood of his black Camaro.  “You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” he asked, monotone. She wondered at Drek’s equanimity, which has always seemed so inviting to her before.  Maybe Braeden just didn’t inspire passion in Derek, the way Stiles obviously did.  

She nodded.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

She shook her head.  “Not unless you can tell me what this is really about. Not unless you can tell me who you are.  Because this person isn’t the Derek I thought I knew.”

Lately, she’d been thinking a lot about a proverb her mother used to recite when she was younger.  Briseann an dúchais trí shúile an chait. The true nature of someone’s character is revealed through their eyes.  Derek’s head swiveled between Braeden and the view through the glass window, where Erica was helping Stiles off the floor, and Boyd was mopping up spilled chocolate milk, and several patrons were still surreptitiously filming the whole ordeal on their cellphones. Derek’s eyes followed Stiles like a wolf stalking prey.  “Shit, I—”

“Derek,” she said, sliding down the hood and coming to stand before him, “you were an amazing boyfriend and a great guy.”  Braeden sighed. “Except at Waffle House.” 

Derek shoved his fists into the front pockets of his too-tight jeans, scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the brick facade of the restaurant.  “Yeah,” he relented.  “I’m really sorry.”

“Me too, Derek.”  She gently patted his stubbled cheek.  “Good luck with-” she gestured toward the golden fluorescent lights, the black and yellow signage, at Stiles standing stock still and Bambi-eyed behind the counter, holding a chunk of frozen bacon to the top of his head- “whatever the hell this is.  I’ll see you around.”

She waved good-bye to Stiles through the window, who raised a hesitant hand back to her, and walked out of the parking lot.

Roughly a year and a half later, Braeden thumbed through a used newspaper while she waited at her local coffee shop for the barista to call her name.  She flipped from business to sports, passing the society section on her way, when a pithy headline caught her attention.  

Waffle Brawls lead to Wedding Bells.

Huh.  So that’s what all the fighting was really about.

Underneath the catchy title was a byline: “Groom learned sixteen new ways to cook eggs during fearsome flirtation.”

“Caramel Macchiato for Braeden!” 

Braeden tossed the paper onto the tabletop, leaving it open to Stiles and Derek’s wedding announcement, and left the coffee shop with a laugh on her lips.  

You couldn’t make this shit up.  Except at Waffle House.

__________

As per usual tumblr won’t let me link to anything so the Reddit post that inspired this story so you can find that in the notes!  Thanks for reading hope it made you laugh.

[aire101]

Ferrum Ch. 6

Link to Master Post

They were being over run.

For every monster Peter took down, two more took their place.

This was a mistake— they never should have come here. And it was all his fault.

“Peter! Get out of here!” yelled Tony from across the room, where he was dealing with his own hoard.

“No! I’m not leaving!” Peter yelled back.

“Damnit Kid! We can’t beat this on our own! You’ve gotta go!”

“I’M NOT LOSING YOU AGAIN!” screamed Peter as he slashed through the last monster in his immediate vicinity. He needed to get to Tony, something was about to happen, he just knew it.

He spun around seeing Tony faced off with two monsters. He was smiling a pain-filled smile. Almost like when—

“You’re not losing me kid, because I’m—”

Tony’s eyes widened as a blade ran through him from behind, where another monster stood hidden in the shadows.

“I’m… Iron Man.”

Peter couldn’t breath.

He tried to walk forward but his feet wouldn’t move.

He needed to move. Tony hadn’t disappeared yet. If he could just get there before…

Tony fell to his knees, his hand held up in front of his face, which was contorted in confusion. As Peter watched, lines of burning energy began coursing through Tony’s body.

“Why Peter… why didn’t you tell me…? Why didn’t you help…?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I tried!” sobbed Peter as he too fell to the ground.

“It’s ok, Peter,” came a familiar, soft voice from beside him.

Peter slowly looked to the side, and there knelt Aunt May.

“Aunt May, I tried… But I couldn’t and he’s gone. I can’t…”

“It’s ok, baby,” she said, her hand gently running through his hair. “I know you tried. It’s just that everyone you love dies. That’s just the way it is.”

Her words were like a knife directly to his heart. They hurt. More so because they were true.

All around him stood his loved ones— Ned, MJ, Happy, Mrs. Leeds and Angie, his parents.

Uncle Ben.

They stood there with sad smiles on their face.

Until they shattered into polygons.

“Why?! Why do they leave?” cried Peter.

“You know why Peter… Everyone leaves,” said May, before she too shattered into nothing.

—————

Peter woke with a start.

Waking from nightmares was always an awful experience, but now that he was regularly sharing a room with someone it was especially stressful. He couldn’t let Tony know how bad his dreams were. If he knew that, he’d press into what they were about.

And he couldn’t explain that. Not without admitting to a lot of half-truths and lies.

So he just laid on his bed while his nerves and emotions roiled. Experience told him trying to go back to sleep was pointless, but getting up risked waking Tony—

Peter looked towards the other bed, only to sit up in confusion when he saw the bed empty.

Where was Tony?

Peter checked the lower left corner of his display for the Aincrad local time… definitely the middle of the night.

Concern about questions related to his nightmare was replaced with concern over Tony’s whereabouts, so Peter slipped on his shoes and stepped out into the hall of the inn.

Despite the late (early?) hour, the tavern down below still held a decent amount of people. A handful were slumped over on the table, obviously looking for a warm place to sleep but unable to afford a room. Others sat together over glasses of ale talking amicably into the night. But he found Tony sitting over by the hearth alone, helmet on and nursing what looked like a cup of that coffee drink they called ‘kaf.’ After their trip back to the Town of Beginnings a few days ago, Tony had gone asking around about where he could get his hands on the ingredients to make the stuff. Turns out getting the ingredients was the easy part, actually making a decent cup of the stuff required some points in the cooking skill. Despite that, Tony continued to make and drink his awful concoctions.

For a moment Peter considered just going back up to their room. But the thought of going back and lying restlessly in bed was as unappealing as sleep itself.

“Hey, you know that stuff won’t actually wake you up, right?” said Peter as he plopped down in the chair across from Tony.

“Just like the alcohol can’t make you drunk,” said Tony. If he was surprised by Peter’s appearance he didn’t show it.

“Wonder what the point is in incorporating them at all then,” said Peter.

“They’re habits. Good or bad, people depend on habits. Just another thing to lull us into a sense of normalcy. If we’re in here long enough, people will probably start to forget that they’re trapped in a digital prison, and begin to wonder why we’re fighting to get out,” said Tony, before taking another sip.

“Hmm,” hummed Peter, before settling into quiet, staring into the flames of the fireplace.

They sat there in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, before it was broken by Tony’s voice, soft with question.

“Are you sure about this Pete? Word is a good two thirds of the dungeon is explored already, but several hundred have died in the last few days doing so.”

Peter didn’t answer immediately. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure about it. In typical form, his hesitance had little to do with his own safety and everything to do someone else’s.

The memory of his dream and a creature running Tony through with a blade from behind returned.

No. Peter Parker wasn’t sure at all.

But Spider-man… Spider-man knew what needed to be done, and he did it.

He had managed to keep Tony from taking any hits so far, he would just have to keep doing it. He would get better. Faster. Stronger.

He would get them out of this game, and then he would find their answers as to where Tony was and how he had come to be in this game. Did Ms. Potts— er, Mrs. Stark know he was still alive? If so, why hide it?

“Considering our uh… RL life choices, there’s a pretty good chance of us dying on any given day,” said Peter, trying not to choke on the words, memories of blood and stones and ash rising. “I’d rather die doing the best I can to help others than sit around watching others die instead. It’s what I’d do in the real world, so its what I should do here. We’ve talked about this. All the way to Tolbana, in fact.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Tony, in the same uncharacteristically soft tone.

“How about you? Just because I’ve decided to work on clearing the game doesn’t mean you have to. I could probably find a clearing party to join up with. I’ve heard a few parties talk about setting up guilds even,” said Peter, with mixed feelings. On one hand, he really didn’t like the idea of letting Tony too far out of his sight. On the other, if he stayed back Peter would probably worry less about keeping Tony alive and could focus more on his own battles.

Tony scoffed at the idea though, so Peter guessed that was out.

“There’s no way in hell I’m sending you off into that labyrinth without me,” Tony replied.

“Well, guess that settles it then,” said Peter with finality.

“Right. Well, I guess I’ll go and check our equipment before we head out, since we’re both awake. Unless you want to try and go back to sleep?” asked Tony, standing up and slipping down his visor.

“Nah, I’m awake. So we can head out whenever. You did sleep some, right?” asked Peter as he stood as well.

“I slept as much as I need to,” answered Tony evasively.

Peter rolled his eyes. Tony’s sleeping habits in the game were as bad as they were outside of it.

“Ok, I’ll go pack up then.”

—————

The floor one labyrinth was a cavernous maze of halls and chambers crawling with Kobold Troopers— the first humanoid monsters they had come across in the game. Unlike the previous creature types, they could use sword skills like players and NPCs. This made Peter's 'don't let Tony take any hits' job far more complicated than he had expected.

"Damn it, kid! Stop taking my hits! You're going to get yourself killed!"

"No I won't, I'm careful about keeping an eye on my HP," responded Peter as he swallowed down a potion.

"You wouldn't have to keep such a close eye on your HP if you would just stop throwing yourself into hits!"

“Well, if you would stop getting yourself into positions where you’re going to get hit, maybe I wouldn’t need to! You’re not in an impenetrable armor anymore,” Peter grouched back. But as soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.

He couldn’t see most of Tony’s face through the helmet’s visor, but he could tell by the tightening in his posture that the words had hit harder than he had intended.

Peter sighed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not the reason I’m getting hurt. But you really do need to stop leaving your back open. You can’t take hits in a fight like you’re used to, and there’s no FRIDAY to keep an eye on it. Just me.”

For a moment Tony didn’t answer, but eventually he nodded.

“No, you’re right. I’m used to having a margin of error in a fight because of the strength of my armor or FRIDAY having my back. I’m not used to being so squishy when I fight. Rogers used to gripe at me about the same thing,” said Tony. “Which was pretty hypocritical on his part considered how he threw himself into things— I guess I’m not too surprised about that at this point— but the fact still remains true. Sorry, I should be better at this than I am—”

“I don’t want an apology. And I know habits are hard to break. Just… try to keep more of an eye on it?”

“I will, but I also want you to stop taking all the hits. We’re both about the same level, so I can take a few as well, you know. I won’t shatter on contact,” chuckled Tony, though Peter could tell it was forced.

The visual of Tony shattering into polygons wouldn’t leave Peter’s mind.

“No promises, so you better keep up your guard,” muttered Peter, before he started walking further into the labyrinth.

From behind him he could hear Tony sigh in exasperation, but he followed along at Peter’s back.

In every RPG Peter had ever played, when you ‘entered the dungeon’ you traveled down through floors until you found the boss room. In SAO’s labyrinth it was all an up-hill journey with no definitive floor levels, plenty of trick rooms, and not a soul to be seen. He had snagged the map data from a large group of Clearers he’d met in the pub their first night in town, but even with four more days of exploring it, there were still massive chunks of blank spaces. One of which they were mapping out now, and five hours in they had yet to stumble on another player. All Peter could say was that they had to be nearing the top of the column soon. Or at least he hoped so. Enough people had died in here already.

The halls were mostly silent as they trekked through the labyrinth passages, the only sounds Peter could hear was the soft echo of their footsteps.

Eventually they came upon a turn into another hall, and as soon as Peter saw what lay beyond, he froze.

It was the Boss Room. It had to be. Rough hewn stone walls were replaced with smooth slate, and the double door set into the wall before him was like nothing they had seen in the labyrinth yet. Three times the height of an average person, ornate lattice scroll work ran from top to bottom down the middle of each door, with a central metal push plate featuring two intertwined serpents.

Tony came around to his side and gave a relieved sigh before pulling up his map. “Finally, I’ll update our map data with a notation.”

Peter nodded absently feeling lightheaded. They had actually done it. They had found the boss room. Just a little longer and they would move to the next floor…

And once they had proven they could… Maybe things would get better.

Peter smiled and turned to ask Tony if he wanted to head back to town now…

That’s when he heard it. The faintest sound of the shuffle of feet from the darkness.

“Mob!” shouted Peter, drawing his sword just as the first Troopers rushed them from the shadows.

Tony quickly switched into fighting stance, drawing his two-handed sword and parrying a Trooper’s slash away.

As Peter jumped into the fray, he tried to do a head count.

One—two—three…

Four—Five—Six…

Definitely outnumbered, but so long as he kept an eye on them it should be fine.

Vertical— horizontal— slant—

The trooper burst into polygons. From the corner of his eye he could see Tony disperse of another trooper.

As they fought, on habit the two of them drifted together until they were back to back.

A well placed sword swing shattered another kobold, only for another to take it’s place, its barbaric hand axe coming in for a hit.

Peter wasn’t quite quick enough and the hit landed, taking some of his HP down with it. Peter would not give the kobold another chance at a hit, and in a few moments it was dispersed just like the rest.

Over all, the kobolds were not especially difficult. But for every one Peter felled another took its place…

Then another.

And another.

This was far more than the six he had originally counted… they just kept coming.

Just like his dream…

He couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t. It was just a dream.

‘Everyone leaves.’

His next strike hit a little harder than he meant, causing the kobold he was fighting to shatter but also causing him to stumble forward away from Tony, allowing a kobold to step into place between them.

Fear froze him as he saw the kobold raise it’s axe overhead, coming in for a direct hit on Tony, who was turned away, unawares.

“TONY! BEHIND—!” screamed Peter, trying to get to Tony.

It was like slow motion. Tony turned, but the axe was nearly on him already. He wouldn’t be able to block. He wouldn’t be able to move.

No, no, no… he couldn’t do this again, he couldn’t—!

“DON’T TOUCH HIM—!” Peter cried, as he slashed his sword wildly.

He couldn’t reach him in time!

The axe struck true.

But it was stopped by a purple polygon with an identification tile that read ‘Immortal Object.’

For a moment Peter’s mind went ‘blue screen’ while it tried to compute what he was seeing.

Tony on the other hand didn’t seem to pause for a second, rather he threw himself with abandon into the throes of the fight, no longer bothering with attempts at defense, letting each hit bounce off the strange shield that apparently kept hits from connecting.

Peter pulled himself together, swallowing down a potion before returning to the fray. After a few more rounds the waves of the mob tapered off until only Peter and Tony were left standing.

Well, standing was relative. As soon as the mob was finished Peter sunk down to the ground, his head in his hands as the mental fatigue of the battle along with all the ones before it came crashing down on him.

Immortal Object.

“Come on kid, we need to get out of here. There’s no telling what the re-spawn rate is this close to the Boss Room door,” said Tony, putting a hand under Peter’s arm to pull him up.

Peter stood up and followed along as directed, keeping one hand on Tony as they went. Every now and then they would come across a pair of Troopers, but Tony easily dispatched them and they continued on their way.

Peter wasn’t sure how long they had been walking, but at some point he realized he could hear the sound of voices up ahead.

As they turned a bend a party of players came into sight. The player at the head of the group was a man with blue hair, dressed in bronze armor with a longsword at his hip.

“Hey!” called Tony, waving them over.

Most of the group eyed with some suspicion, but the blue haired one walked over, a small but amicable smile on his face.

“Yes, do you need help?” he asked politely.

“Nah, we’re alright. You’re part of one of the larger clearing parties, aren’t you?” asked Tony.

“Yes, in fact I’m the leader of the group. My name is Diavel,” he answered.

“Good. Look, we found the Boss Room up ahead.”

That certainly got their attention. Diavel’s eyes widened for a moment and his face lost its politeness and settled into a more serious gaze. He glanced at Peter, who knew he was showing obvious signs of exhaustion.

“We didn’t open it so I’m not sure what’s inside, and we were swarmed by a large Trooper mob right afterward,” Tony said, answering the unspoken question. “If you open your map I’ll give the info to you.”

Diavel nodded, opening up his map. A few taps later and the exchange was done.

“We will go back quickly and start gathering a raiding party this afternoon. Should I expect to see you there?”

“No, I don’t think so. Just make sure this info gets out,” said Tony, a hand Peter’s shoulder as he starts to move away.

“I will see it done,” said Diavel, with a nod. “Everyone, lets hurry back to town! There’s work to be done!”

And with that the group turned and ran, presumably back towards the entrance to the labyrinth.

“Alright, that’s done. If you need to stop we’ll stop, but otherwise we’re going to keep going until we’re back at the inn. Don’t worry about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other, I’ll take care of rest,” said Tony, as they began to walk in the same direction.

Peter did as he was told, and put one foot in front of the other.

Step, step, step…

Immortal Object.

Step, stumble, step…

“I can’t remember things passed a certain point…”

“The last thing I remember is the meeting with Kayaba…”

What did it all mean…

Step, step, step…

“I’m thinking of skipping on meals for a while. I’m kinda curious how long it takes to actually start feeling hungry in here.”

Put one foot in front of the other, Parker. Almost there…

“I slept as much as I need to.”

Immortal Object—Immortal Object—Immortal Object—

AI Development

Peter stopped.

Peter couldn’t help but wonder… Was she aware of what she was?

No. No way. No fucking way—

“The problem was that in order to do further development and testing it would require me to deep dive into their systems, and for reasons I’ve discussed with you earlier today I was entirely unwilling to open myself up to that.”

“Peter… Hey, are you alright?” asked Tony, a worried crease in his brow that was so familiar. “Are you still with me, kid?”

Was it even possible? Who was he kidding, if anyone could figure it out it would have been him. But then how did it— he— end up here?

“Ok, now you’re really starting to scare me kid.”

Unbidden, the memory of the mural from the night he entered SAO came back to him.

Slowly, Peter started to take steps again.

“Good, that’s good. One step at a time and we’ll get there,” said Tony.

Peter did as he was told, and he slowly made his way out of the labyrinth while trying to come to terms with a fact he couldn’t look away from.

Mr. Stark was dead. He always had been.

Tony was an AI.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Reviews: The First Temple or Bessie and Joe: The New OTP

Hello all you happy people! Amphibia season 2 moves right a long and it’s time for some video game shenanigans as we enter The First Temple! Family drama, snail on bird action, and outhouses await you under the cut with a recap/review with full spoilers. 

So we open with the Plantars having chocopillbug pancakes. Ironically my mom offered me chocolate chip pancakes after this and thank god for that. This is a rare treat to the point Anne didn’t even know they had choclate, and is suprisingly not strangling Hop Pop over this. Unsuprisingly he broke out the good stuff to try and make up for hiding the box and things are still VERY awkward between the two, with Hop Pop walking on Egghshells around Anne and Anne doing the same when he brings it up with both desperatley trying to avoid the subject and Sprig not helping by bringing it up a bunch. 

I like this a lot and didn’t really think about the series continuting any tension over his decision.. but should have. Partly because this is a modern animated show and most of this wonderful new wave of shows have a LOT of emotional nuance. ANd partly because this show dosen’t forget things even most nuanced shows forget: the fact the characters cause chaos and learn life lesons is outright RECOGNZIED by the show as a pattern and brought up quite often, as are the patterns that lead to it, like mostly being sprig and anne, anne’s impulsivness that sort of thing. It’s the kind of thing you just gloss over in most shows but this one lampshades to hell and back for funsies so when something THIS important happens, you’d better belivie it’s not just going to disappear. 

The tensions thankfully broken by a new arrival, as a massive sparrow shows up in the yard. “It’s a giant bird with.. books on it’s back.. what. “ Great delivery from bill there. Naturally it’s Marcy! 

I missed this little goober. Such a joy to be around, and she of course marvels over the Plantar’s house before getting back on track: She’s found the first temple.. even though she sent a letter saying that and it’s not commented on that she did. It set off the whole previous episode Marcy... you okay Mar-Mar?

That aside though it’s time for the first temple and Marcy asks for the Box, with Sprig trying to make a joke about how good thing she didn’t ask for it a week ago. 

Polly rightly punches him in the ribs... do frogs have ribs? Hold on.. okay here we go

Huh.. so they do not You learn something new every day. Well lack of ribs or no our heroes are ready.. while Marcy’s sparrow Joe is also ready TO GET IT ON. Yes really, he does a mating dance for Bessie, complete with an intersumental version of “Sylvia” from last season. God damn that bird’s got game. The only time i’ve seen more game is THIS. 

 Marcy tells him to knock it off. Look marcy your a pet owner now and as a pet owner, it’s your responsiblity.. to let your giant bird do horrifying things with a slightly smaller but still giant snail. it’s what nature intended. Nature was doing a lot of cocaine that day but we still honor her wishes. 

But anyways Marcy’s figure out something intresting about the box.. by winding it just right the gems pop out, which allows her to take one, we later find out it’s the green one, to use in the temple. So off we go with Marcy and the rest of the kids up top and Hop Pop.. screaming in Joe Sparrows claws. He’s fine. 

So while they get ready, Anne worries about the amount of puzzles and hazzards Marcy’s hyping for this but Marcy shurgs it off and gives her own big boast about how may RTS she’s beaten.. suspciously like Yuaan as one post on here pointed out. Not a huge suprise though, to Marcy she’d just be the grand hero out of one of her rpg’s and not think of how many people she probably killed or who she’s working for.. though you’d THNK given all the RPG’s both tapetop and on her switch she’s played, that Marcy would see that “the benevolent king turns out to be the big bad” trope coming. 

But Anne’s worry is not on the big bad of the show but on Marcy who has a tendency to get so in the zone she ignores the world around her, which goes from focusing on her game while helping anne get softserve leading to a mess, not letting Anne down in a play and.. Anne catching Marcy on tv as all the snakes escape from the zoo. 

Regardless our heroes arrive and while the awkwardness between anne and hop pop continues, they find a majestic temple.. and what appears to be an outhouse. Hey we all gotta poop sometimes, even people making a majestic temple.  If you don’t it comes out like this. 

So they head in and we get our first puzzle, a mysterious cube that lifts you into the air and allows you to tilt the thing around. 

Those of you wondering why I have such a strong reaction have ever never played breath of the wild or played it with a pro controller, i.e. NOT having to tilt the very thing your screen is on because Nintendo has failed to grasp that MAYBE people don’t like that, that it takes you out of the experince and that it’s really hard to focus on your screen while having to move the fucking system about. And the plantar’s getting horribly jostled around as she moves it is EXACTLY how it feels to play a puzzle requring that shit. 

Next is a color based tile dungeon leftover from Link’s Awakening DX. As marcy figures out the reds do fire and the blues do crushing... but she reads the language (And as she put earlier “Guess who learned an entire dead language?” God she’s precious. ) and finds a green with envy pun (Which Hop Pop takes offense to.. several of his friends are green.). Which is curious as given several citzens of amphibia are green.. why would they make a green pun? So she gets on one tile and Hop Pop plans to take the risk of getting on the other green tile, but Anne does it instead.. and things get heated between the two as Anne reveals she no longe feels like family since he did what he did for polly and sprig and hop pop takes offense as she IS. Even if he screwed up with her. But Anne’s near death experince activates the tile. 

The final challnge switches us from Zelda.. to Harry Freaking Potter. 

Now I used to love Harry Potter, with all of my heart. Then JK Rowling turned out to be a transphobic piece of shit who thinks she’s an ally, but is really a bigot who wants to “accept” trans people without giving them any rights. So yeah while I still love the starkid musicals, ore more accuratley the music from them, and own a copy of lego harry potter I got as a gift recently as both parties had no idea she was a monster when this stuff was made. Still a sore subject though, but if I didn’t bring up the similiarties I wouldn’t be doing my job as a critic and this was likely thought up long before JK outed herself as well...

No no the great mighty poo respects all peoples.. and wants to take their heads and ram it up his butt. He’s an equal opportunity butt rammer. 

Anyways this is the frog equivlent of chess flipfrog, and just like with Wizard chess, our heroes end up as the pieces minus marcy.. and in a nice twist on that scene, Anne ends up on the other side. Marcy is a grandmaster at it though so after an hour or so of play she almost wins.. only for the king equilvent to refuse to be taken and the automatic board she’s up against to send Anne against hop pop, and with our heroes magically restrained and given stone weapons, this can’t end well. Eventually though Anne’s forced to hit HOp Pop multiple times and while he says “well isn’t this what you wanted”, she says no.. she didn’t want to phsyically hurt him it’s just complicated. So we get one heck of an emotioinal scene as Hop Pop just wants to help and wants this to stop and dosen’t knoow how to fix this which as someone who desperatlyt ries to fix most emotional situations right away this hit very hard.. and her response of needing time hit harder. The two while not reconciled, ar ecloser to it and Marcy realizes what she’s done getting so obessed with winning and forfits for thier benifit. Our heroes leave, seemingly having lost.. only to find glowing arrows to the crap hole, which turns out to be the pedistal. The temple wasn’t just an intellegence test but empathy.. and the temples are clearly built to specifically test each of the chosen three, our heroines, specifically. Marcy’s tested her intellegence.. but also her willingness to let go of cold clyincal thought to do the right thing. That earns her her gem recharged and a flash in her eyes and her gem starts pointing to the next. She needs time to triangulate and hop pop and anne are back on workable footing... though our heroes offer to take a break instead of going to the next temple. 

Back in Newtopia, Yuaan reports on the toads gathering.. but dosen’t get to mentioning sasha before Marcy’s letter interrupts and Andridas oddly and aburbly dimisses her.. and goes to talk to a watcher with a thousand eyes, his “master” who has plans to undo the prophcey and get their revenge. 

Final Thoughts: This was a damn fine episode that gave Marcy some much needed character development, and gave the reveals of last episode some more emotiional fallout.  It also had some really great jokes as always. Top notch stuf. 

Next Time: Marcy tries to win everyone over through science and we FINALLY get an episode with the Frog Robot apparently. Horay

Next on this Blog: We go into final space yo! It’s unexpected births, ho yay, and horrifying zombie gary’s galore! 

Until then if you liked this review, follow me for more, join my patreon, comission a review if you please and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. Play us out jeff... and I haven’t done THAT bit in a while but eh. This song was too perfect.