#this colouring is a mess rip but whatever

[amourane]

hate the way you smile

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, comedy, e2l + childhood enemies??

w/c: 4.7k

summary: from the second you met theodore nott you knew that your life would be torturous and that the boy would never leave you alone but maybe forever isn't so bad with theodore nott.

warnings: none just a lot of bickering

a/n: omg this one is a bit long but i finished it!

From the moment that you met Theodore Nott at the bright age of five you knew you would hate him forever. Maybe it was the way he would sneer at you with distaste or the way he would mock you for being a big crybaby whenever he took your toys. All you knew was that you simply loathed his presence.

Your families had been friends and they had initially thought that you and Theo would get along since you were both the same age. What they didn’t expect was the young boy to rip the heads of your dolls and proceed to mock you for crying your heart out. Yet even with all of your constant bickering your families still met up every holiday, bringing the demon child with them to torment your life.

Since that day your childhood was filled with cruel laughter and the mischievous eyes that would watch wherever you went.  At age seven, Theodore Nott found it appropriate to fill your bathtub with toads causing you to shriek out in terror when you opened the bathroom door, and him, to run away with glee at your horrified face. At age nine, he thought it would’ve been funny to surprise you by dumping a bucket load of pumpkin juice all over you and he cackled at your expected screams of anger. What he didn’t expect was for you to retaliate by smashing a tray of cauldron cakes into his face. 

Needless to say the war between you two started way back then and it had continued, the only difference being that now you both were more mature and civilised and there was no room for childish pranks.

“Suck my cock you mangled prat, I hope you trip and fall to your death you insignificant shit goblin!” 

At least so you thought.

You made a move and lunged for Theodore Nott’s throat as anger flared in your eyes. No one paid mind to the scene that was unfolding before them afterall it was a common occurrence for the last six years. 

“You enchanted my hair green!” You shrieked as you shook the brunette violently. “Are you out of your mind Nott? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t mess with each other’s appearances, what happened to that?” 

Theodore simply smirked and you felt your fury bubble inside you. He tilted his head to the right and acted as if he was actually pondering your question. If you could you would have been breathing flames as you felt yourself grow more livid as every second went by. 

“Hmm…I like your hair L/n, really suits the whole vibe you’re going for, don't you think bella?” Theo flashed you a wicked grin as he reached out to twirl a lock of your hair between his fingers. You slapped his hand away.

“And what vibe am I going for Nott? Please enlighten me since you apparently are the one making decisions for me.”

You should’ve just walked away. You really should’ve just cursed him out and gone to Madam Pomfrey for some sort of remedy instead of staying and entertaining whatever shit-faced idea he had come up with. The moment you saw the smug smirk that spread across his face and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes you knew he was going to spew some absolute bullshit. And you were right.

“Well obviously it’s a statement declaring that you’re mine, why else would you dye your hair to match my house?” The Slythering feigned disbelief, clutching his hands to his chest innocently. “But Salazar, I didn’t know you would be so bold about your feelings towards me bella.”

You felt heat rise and settle on your cheeks as you tried to come up with a colourful comeback to wipe the stupid smirk off his face but the words die in your throat. It was against your will but you could feel your face growing hotter as he continued to stare at you with that flirty glint in his eyes. Your brain spluttered to a stop and you scrambled desperately for something to say.

“Fuck you Nott.” You seethed before storming away with your hands balled into fists. You could hear the whispers of students and you could feel their stares as you stomped to the infirmary, determined to find some way to get your hair back to normal. 

Theodore Nott was the biggest pain in the arse you knew and he had never stopped being one. You still remembered when you had received your letter to Hogwarts and he had scoffed at the sight asking why Hogwarts would want a half-wit like you. Needless to say your parents weren’t surprised at the cries that erupted a second later from both you and him.

Throughout your years the two of you had become known for the obvious tension and pure hatred you harboured for each other though it did seem to lean on your side a bit more than it did to his. It had been the same for the first three years, bickering, pranks and whatnot. Then fourth year came and the scrawny boy you once knew had magically grown much taller and his face had lost a lot of the baby fat it once had. All at once Theodore Nott became one of the most sought after boys in Hogwarts and it only made you loathe him more. It made his ego triple in size and it made him much more flirty towards everyone but you seemed to be his number one target. All you wanted to do was to take your wand and puncture that bloated head of his.

Though his appearance changed he still was the boy you knew since you were a child and whenever he smiled you could see the same boyish grin he had way back when he was five. He had always been the same but now he just had a much more pretty face to disguise the fact he was a blithering idiot.

Theo watched as you stormed off, his smile never once leaving his face. He loved to mess with you purely to see the visceral anger that radiated off you every single time. The way you would try to stare him down but the action proved useless as he was much taller allowing him to simply look down smugly. It amused him to see how your reactions never changed. 

Ever since you were five you held the same expressions: whenever you were mildly irritated by him you would chew on your bottom lip, whenever you were pissed your eyes would double in size and you’d look like a fire-breathing dragon, and whenever he made you upset you would stare blankly without a word. He’d only ever made you truly upset once and when seeing your face he knew he would never do it again because even if the two of you bickered and fought he would never hurt you.

“Sometimes I think you’re secretly dating because you should see the way you’re daydreaming hopelessly while staring at L/n’s retreating figure Nott, you look like a bloody imbecile.” Draco slapped Theo’s back startling him out of his own thoughts. He scoffed after realising what his friend was implying.

“Oh Salazar’s balls I think I’m going to regurgitate my breakfast. You’ve gone insane if you even think for a second there’s a chance I fancy that creature.”

Laughter erupted from his friends and they continued to mock and tease him obviously not being mature enough to handle the situation with grace.

“I would rather shag the giant squid than date L/n and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”

Mattheo hummed to himself and smirked. He placed his arm on Theo’s shoulder. “Well then can I ask her out? She’s real hot and I think she’d be interested.”

“L/n might be stupid Riddle but she wouldn’t ever go out with you or even give you the time of day. So don’t even think about doing it.” And with that he left and his friends exchanged knowing glances before bursting into another fit of laughter at their friend’s own obliviousness.

//

This was so not your day. 

Never in your life had you forgotten to hand in homework yet one silly slip up had cost you to spend your free afternoon in detention. It wasn’t your fault you had mixed up the dates on when the transfiguration homework was due. 

You begrudgingly opened the classroom doors, finding a seat to sit down for the next hour. At least you were able to catch up on some other classes while you were in detention otherwise you thought you would’ve gone mad. You looked around the classroom save for Professor McGonagall who had already greeted you when you walked in there was no one else there. 

It hadn’t even been a minute when the doors burst open to reveal a very tall and very smug Slytherin.

“Mr Nott, glad for you to join us, find a seat please.”

Theo's grin faltered as his eyes locked onto yours, a flicker of confusion dancing across his features before it was swiftly replaced by his trademark smirk. He made his way toward you, closing the distance until there were mere centimetres separating you from him.

“Now L/n, Nott, I have important business to tend to so I assume the both of you are mature enough to sit through this detention. I hope that I don’t hear about any incidents when I am gone.”

It was as if your nightmare had all of a sudden come to life as you watched McGonagall leave the classroom. You tried to protest but it fell upon deaf ears as the professor had already left the room, leaving you stuck with your nemesis.

You whipped your head to face the brunette, irritation flashing in your eyes. Why had he chosen to sit next to you when there were plenty of other seats available? The classroom was far from crowded, yet here he was, invading your personal space with his mere presence

“Why are you sitting next to me Nott?”

“Why can’t I? Do you happen to own every seat in this classroom?” He teased. “I didn’t think you did, so I’m going to sit where I want.”

You grumbled under your breath at his stubbornness, getting up to pack your things. “Fine, but then I’m moving.”

Before you could make your move, Theo reached out and grabbed your arm. “Hey slow down, I have a perfect seat right here.” Your irritation flared at his audacity, and you shot him a scathing glare as he gestured to his lap with a smug smirk. “Why don’t you-”

“Nott, if you seriously propose that I sit in your lap I will hex you to oblivion.”

“Okay!” Theo held his hands up in mock surrender, his expression feigning innocence as he cocked his head to the side, the smirk never once leaving his face. “Stay here, I won’t bother you, I swear.”

You eyed him cautiously, your scepticism evident. You weighed the options before you reluctantly sat back down. “Fine.”

A quiet hush befell the classroom and all that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment. That is until you were interrupted by a persistent poking sensation that disrupted your concentration, each jab of the quill more annoying than the last. You clenched your jaw as you tried to ignore Theo but you knew he wouldn’t stop until you gave him attention and there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of reacting. So he continued to poke and poke and poke. 

His incessant poking finally pushed you over the edge, prompting a sharp hiss of irritation from your lips. "What?" You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer.

“What are you doing here?” 

If there was a competition for incompetence Theodore Nott would sure have won first place.

“Detention obviously.”

“Oh you know what I meant, why are you in detention? Did you do something stupid? Wait, you do that all the time I forgot.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them right out of your skull. "Tell me, bella," He continued, his voice laced with faux innocence. "I don't bite."

“Forgot my homework.” You reluctantly mumbled under your breath, feeling all too claustrophobic at how close he was to you. “Not that big of a deal.”

“Oh but it is.”

“What does that even mean, Nott?” Your eyes narrowed. Theo’s face twisted into a playful smirk and he was so close that you could practically hear his heart beating.

He chuckled, undeterred by your hostility. "But it's not like you to forget your homework," He teased, leaning in closer. "There must be something distracting you. Perhaps... thoughts of me?"

As if on instinct your hands reached out to push the unbearable boy away from you and you immediately got up at his incredulous words. You saw the way laughter bubbled and slipped from his lips, mocking you which only added more fuel to the evergrowing fire.

"In your dreams, Nott," You retorted, your voice laced with venom as you rose from your seat, your movements quick and determined. "I would sooner volunteer for a Dementor's kiss than waste a single thought on you."

Theo’s smirk only widened and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual," He quipped, his voice dripping with amusement as he rested his chin on his palms, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You huffed out an angry breath before picking your stuff up and stalking to the opposite end of the classroom. Luckily, he didn’t follow and you were left in peace for the rest of the detention.

//

It had been a week and a half since your detention yet Theodore Nott hadn’t approached you once since. In fact, you hadn’t seen him around school a lot, not that you were paying attention of course. It was just weird. Usually his face would pop up in front of you multiple times a day yet he was nowhere to be found. You had even lingered around the Slytherin table at lunch to see if he would show up but he never did. 

There was this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Even though you did despise Theo you had known him since he was a kid and he never was one to skip lessons much less disappear for over a week. Even his Slytherin friends didn’t know where he went.

That is until today. The moment you had walked into the dungeons ready for your Potions lesson you spotted him. There was a part of you that hoped you would see him today, after all he was your Potions partner. But there was something wrong. His face looked gaunt, pale, sapped of life and his eyes were merely blank as he sat unmoving. His usual demeanour was replaced with one of hollow emptiness.

“Where have you been Nott?” No response. You frowned as you looked at him, he seemed to not even hear you. “Nott? Have you suddenly become deaf?”

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped voice obviously laced with malice as the words cut through the air. The sharpness of his tone caught you off guard, a twinge of hurt gnawing at the edges of your consciousness despite the fact you both had said worse to each other.

You chose to ignore the fact that Theo was obviously in a sour mood and sat down beside him, unpacking your things. There was nothing special about the lesson, nothing that you needed to particularly pay attention to. Not that you did since you were too focused on trying to figure out what was wrong with your partner. Theo didn’t look okay, not in the slightest. He seemed exhausted and his sluggish movements proved you correct as he diced the various ingredients. 

You were in the middle of stirring the cauldron when Theo dropped a dandelion root in the mixture causing it to bubble and spit. The concoction spilled onto your hand and you shrieked at the sudden burning sensation that seemed to consume your hand in flames. The sensation is unbearable, a sharp, burning agony that seems to penetrate deep into your very bones. By now the whole class had stopped to look at you not fully registering what had happened. You turned to Theo, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the pain but he stood there frozen, an expression you couldn’t decipher on his face.

“Theo-”

"Fucking hell, L/n." He spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Would it kill you to not be such a clumsy moron? You could've hurt me as well. How can you even call yourself a witch?"

His words were sharp and spiteful. Through the many years of knowing Theodore Nott he had never blamed you for something he did. He might have been an incorrigible prick but he would still apologise if he had ever hurt you genuinely. But as you looked at him you couldn’t recognise the cold harsh look he gave you and you bit back your tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of him. 

Despite the fact your hand was in pain you felt something tighten around your chest and it made the air around you feel thick as if you couldn’t breathe. You stood up angrily, opening your mouth to snap back but your vision starts to fade, black spots invade your senses and that was the last thing you remember before you tumbled to the floor.

You woke up a few hours later as you felt the sun shine on your face. You blinked, disorientated, as you tried to get used to your surroundings. The familiar walls of the infirmary materialised and you felt some ease at knowing where you were. Confusion still gnawed at your mind as you struggled to piece together what had happened. How had you ended up in the infirmary? And why did everything feel so hazy, as if viewed through a foggy lens? 

Your gaze drifted to your hand, the source of the searing pain. And there, wrapped in a pristine white bandage, lay the answer to at least one of your questions. The memory flooded back in fragments, disjointed and incomplete.

Theo's careless mistake, the scalding mixture splattering across your skin, the sharp cry of pain that had torn through the air, all of it came rushing back with startling clarity.

“Miss L/n you’re awake!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice cut through your thoughts and you saw the woman make her way towards you hurriedly. “That was a terrible burn you had, lucky I had some burn-healing paste on me otherwise you would have had an ugly scar.”

You were still a bit dazed, trying to piece together how you even managed to make your way here. You distinctively remembered collapsing to the floor but that was where your memory stopped and it refused to give you any more.

“Sorry Madam Pomfrey but do you know how I got here? I really can’t seem to remember.”

“Oh dear.” The nurse frowned at your condition. “Mr Nott brought you here. He’s been here the whole afternoon. He's only just popped to dinner. I'm sure he’ll be back. Merlin, the boy did look worried.”

You resisted the urge to scoff at her words. Theodore Nott, worried. Not a chance. He probably only brought you here because Slughorn insisted, and he couldn't risk getting on the professor's bad side. No, you highly doubted he cared about what had happened to you.

The memory of his harsh words repeated in your head like an echo that refused to go away, a reminder of his indifference to your situation. And yet, despite your efforts to brush it off, a bitter laugh escaped your lips. Why were you even upset? After all, the two of you were experts at hurling mean insults at each other. It was practically a pastime. 

Rather you should have been mad at the fact he was the one who caused you to get this injury anyway. If it wasn’t for his stupid mistake you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Then again, you remembered his movements, how his usual nimble fingers were fumbling the ingredients, how he stared at the pages of his book as though they were in a foreign language. Something wasn’t right.

“You’re awake.”

The words startled you and you spotted the Slytherin boy approaching your bed as his face held the same blank expression as before. He sat down beside you and your eyes narrowed. You shuffled away, not wanting to be near him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured quietly and the words caught you off guard. “These past few days just haven’t been the best and-”

“That’s your excuse?” You bristled at his pathetic apology, hoping that you had misheard what he had said. “You mess up our potion resulting in me getting hurt and then hurl insults my way trying to blame me for what happened. And you think simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ is enough? Using the excuse of having a few bad days as your way out?”

He stayed silent allowing you to continue.

“Theodore Nott, you always were an idiot.” You spat, the words tinged with disappointment. “But I never expected you to be such a heartless prick.”

As the final syllable fell from your lips, a heavy silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the shallow rise and fall of your breath. You held Theo’s gaze and as you studied him you noticed something you had failed to notice before. The dark circles that marred the skin beneath his eyes, the redness that rimmed their edges. The weariness that had been etched into his features. 

“I went home.” He finally said, breaking the silence with his words. “Father sent a letter saying it was urgent, that I needed to return home at once.”

You felt yourself deflate and your gaze softened. Theo and his father had never been on the best terms and ever since his mother died they drifted apart even more. Suddenly his attitude made sense and you felt the guilt seep into your senses.

“Turns out his urgent matter was that he found himself another potential wife. Some poor woman to endure his torture and he wanted to happily announce it to his son. He burnt all of my mother’s belongings and if I hadn’t stopped him he would’ve gotten rid of her grave as well.” Theo scoffed bitterly and you saw the way he was trying to stop the tears from falling. “That bastard calls himself my father but not once in his life has he ever cared about me.”

A heavy silence enveloped the both of you as you sat not uttering a word. You knew that he had always struggled with the strained relationship with his family. The death of his mother had resulted in Theo being distraught for weeks as he relived the nightmare whenever he closed his eyes. 

“I’m not going back there. I’m never setting foot in that house ever again.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as you tried to offer some sort of comfort. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his tears glistened as they fell silently. You felt ropes tighten around your heart and you squeezed his shoulder gently. It had been a long time since you saw Theodore Nott cry. It was a rare sight but that was what made it that much more painful.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You whispered. “I honestly…I’m so sorry Theo. He really doesn’t deserve a son like you. You’re incredible, you know that? You might be irritating and loud and downright infuriating at times but he doesn’t deserve you because you’re amazing Theodore Nott. And, Merlin, if I’m saying that then it must mean a lot because we both know my word is golden.”

You offered him a small smile and your heart warms when you see one tug at his lips too. He looked away for a second and you saw his eyes land on your bandaged hand and he winced.

“I really am sorry for messing up our potion. I didn’t mean what I said, you’re a brilliant witch Y/n, you always have been. I was just being a prat, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s honestly nothing bad. My hand will probably already be back to normal, I heal quickly you know.” You paused as your smile faltered and you chose your next words carefully. “If…if you don’t want to return to your house, you can always go to someone else's.”

Theo chuckled as he shook his head. “No one is going to accept me into their house without turning me into my father.”

“I will.” 

Silence. Theo looked at you, confusion clear on his face but your gaze was strong and he could tell you had meant what you had said. You felt yourself flush at his stare and you realised your hand was still on his shoulder and you quickly removed it.

“Accept you into my house I mean. My parents love you and you know they haven’t been on good terms with your father ever since what happened. We would be more than willing to take you in.” You watched as his face contorted into expressions that you couldn’t formulate. “That is if you promise not to fill my bathtub with toads again.”

Laughter fell from his lips, cascading like a melody. He lifted his hands to wipe away his tears that had been streaking down his face. His eyes no longer held the blank emotionless look but rather a certain warmth that you had missed seeing. Your grin widened upon hearing the sound and you found yourself joining in.

“At least you look pretty-”

Your words were cut off abruptly as Theo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sudden and unexpected kiss. You froze, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening as disbelief rippled through your body. His hands found their way at the back of your neck and you feel his thumb caress your cheek tenderly. You were still in shock when he pulled away and the last few words of the sentence you were about to say tumbled out of your mouth.

“-when you cry…”

You blinked as your mind tried to grapple at what had just happened. Theodore Nott had just kissed you. Theodore Nott, the boy you had despised since you were five, had just kissed you. He kissed you. Kissed…you. Immediately, your body erupted into flames and you felt your face flush hot at how close the both of you were.

“Your body temperature has risen extremely quickly.” Theo teased and you felt yourself grow even hotter.

“Shut it.”

“Like you’re actually a human radiator.” He continued undeterred by your glare.

“Nott if you don’t want to lose your head I would advise you to shut up.”

Theo grinned and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. “Oh so now I’m back to being Nott? What happened to Theo?” He said his name in a high pitched croon in an attempt to mock your voice and you smacked the backside of his head which only encouraged his laughter.

“You’re actually going to be the death of me.” You groaned as you slumped back down the bed, pulling the covers over your face as a feeble attempt to hide yourself from the pretty Slytherin.

Theo poked your arm and you peeked out to find him staring at you with a bright grin on his face. 

"Don't worry." He reassured you, his voice light and teasing. "I'll make sure to stay by your side forever and ever, like a blood-sucking parasite."

“How romantic.” You drawled as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance as you retreated under the covers once more.

“Aren’t I just?” 

You ignored Theo’s playful whines for you to let him see your face. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But even so, you were unable to stop the grin that spread across your face. Maybe, just maybe, forever wouldn't be so bad with Theodore Nott by your side.

[augustinewrites]

cw: it’s just angst & jjk manga spoilers

satoru wakes with a start.

his breaths come a little faster than his body can process, his heart is pounding in his chest, and his head feels like someone’s stuck a hot poker in it. 

it takes him what feels like a few minutes to settle down again, clutching the bedsheets in a tightly wound fist. 

once things seemed to have returned to a normal level, he tries to remember what’d startled him. was it a dream? a memory? had he simply jerked himself awake whilst on the precipice of sleep, like you claimed he did—

his mind seems to be clearing up, because his next instinct is to sit up and make sure you’re okay.

you’re fine, sound asleep on your side of the bed. 

satoru relaxes, albeit only slightly. he’s not sure why he’d been struck with such sudden panic. there’s just this…feeling. he might even go as far as to call it an overwhelming sense of dread, if he were dramatic.

there’s something. it’s hiding in the back of his brain, somewhere even his six eyes can’t find or comprehend. 

he leans back against the headboard, reaching up to run his hands through then lightly grip the strands of his hair. outside, the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon, but whatever had startled him had left him wide awake. 

“the kids are gonna be up soon,” you mumble, pulling him out of the mess of his mind. “better sleep while you have time.” 

time. the word flashes like a flint strike in his mind, but the sparks don’t quite catch yet.

so he lays next to you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you into his chest. he feels a bit better, with you in his arms. 

“what’s wrong?” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. 

“nothing,” he lies.

you hum, but he knows that you know him too well. you always know when he’s lying. 

you twist in his arms so the two of you are face to face, the tip of your nose brushing his. 

your sleepy gaze finds his, sending him a small smile. “hi.”

he doesn’t reply because he finds he’s too busy memorizing the details or your face; the flecks of colour in your eyes, the slope of your nose. it’s as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it.

or maybe the last.

the thought comes out of nowhere and scares him so badly that he tries to pull away.

“hey,” you murmur, cradling his face in your hands. he catches your wrist intending to pull you away, but instead he clings to you like a lifeline. you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “you’re okay.”

he wants to believe you, he really does. but anxiety is beginning to gnaw on the edge of his sanity.

“something’s wrong,” he admits quietly. “i don’t— i don’t know—”

“you worry too much,” you sigh, your thumb smoothing over his cheek. 

“i just want us all to be safe,” he tells you. 

“i know,” you hum again, smiling a little sadly. “i just wish you wouldn’t let it come at your expense.”

there are a lot of things he wants to say in this moment. he wants to ask why you’re worried, because you know he’s the strongest. that he would rip the heavens apart for you. he wants to tell you that he has a plan, and that he knows it’ll work. 

(a plan for what? he thinks briefly. he can’t remember.)

but most of all…he wants to tell you that he loves you and the life you’ve built together. too much to leave it all behind. 

but all that comes out is,

“i’d rather it be me than any of you.” 

“don’t say that,” you frown. “we need you. i need you.”

there’s an awful ache settled deep in his chest, carving into the place where his heart sits.

“well, it’s a good thing i’m not planning to go anywhere anytime soon.” lie. “i love you.”

truth.

he rests his forehead against yours, tangling his fingers with yours. 

the memories hit him like a gut punch. 

handmade mochi. the flick of a lighter. a beach in okinawa. megumi and tsumiki laughing. you in your wedding dress, telling him you love him. 

a crowded station. the beginning of the end. 

his eyelids are suddenly heavy. there’s not enough time, he panics. that can’t be it—

“i’ll be here when you wake up,” you promise, and even though you sound like you’re a million miles away, he can hear the sadness in your voice. “you can rest now.”

satoru closes his eyes.

[diejager]

Tysm for blessing us with puppy girl reader <33

So I diiiiid see that your requests are open so I humbly request (on my knees fr) kitty girl reader head cannons???? Im partial to ghost or 141 but really whatever u want!!!! (muah)

Kitty hybrid!reader Headcanon

Pairing: Task Force 141 x cat hybrid!reader

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON0-CON, hybrid, smut, brat!reader, creampie, training, punishment, tell me if I missed any. We: 1.4k

You were an impulsive act from the team, wanting a little pet that wouldn’t demand too much time and attention, that was a independent pet that would be affectionate enough to pet an play. A puppy would demand to much attention, slobbering and rutting their legs if they had the chance, but a cat, a hissy but sly mess seemed better fit for a family that was always on the move and that would leave for an extended time period on missions, would be the perfect match.

Price made the purchase, but Ghost worked to train you, always the cat person Price knew he was. Ghost picked you up from the pound, a little store for abandoned and forgotten hybrids without a home. That’s where Price decided to find a pet, Ghost was ironically unsurprised, knowing his Captain’s streak of finding strays and feral things. It was a quaint place with warm-coloured walls and a chirpy scenery, everything was simply too calm and too perfect to seem sad and depressed, but he’d seen some hybrids pout and cry in their corners, saddened for being unloved and left to rot alone. 

He was expecting something sad or a ball of joy, but he wasn’t that surprised when the cat he went to pick up was a feisty one, glaring and hissing at him despite the neediness and affection you showed him when he scratched your chin. Chalk it up to Price to pick someone as bratty as the others in the team, he certainly had a type for strays. You fought him all the way back, hissing and baring your teeth at him, yet you turned around so quickly when he scratched and pet you in the right places, turning the wild cat into a docile kitty.

You weren’t hard to tame, you were easy to understand and quite the simpleton, simple needs and little expectations. All you needed was a warm bed, a quiet corner and a few spoils to keep you satisfied on the long run, nothing to extravagant or expensive like Ghost was awaiting. Perhaps it was your history of being left behind that made you ask for less, biding your time before you were abandoned again, ripped away from a life of slight luxury. 

Now that Ghost had reassured you that this would be your permanent home, telling you to ask for more than the minimum, you truly let go of your apprehension. You were still the feisty, little gremlin they picked up, sly and mischievous, but you were quick to ask for attention, patting Gaz’s knee for kisses, scratching Soap’s leg for treats, crawling over Ghost’s lap for caresses and interrupted Price’s work for a quiet place to nap. 

Both Gaz and Soap had a habit of spoiling you more than the others. When you wanted to be spoiled rotten with food, the person you went looking for was Soap, stalking the busy halls for the TF’s rec room, finding Soap lounging on the big couch watching whatever match of football played or movie that streamed. You pawed and meowed at him, forcefully taking your place on his lap and rubbing your face against his stomach. 

Soap was a soft and sympathetic owner, easy to bend to your will if you so much as batted your lashes or asked sweetly for a treat. Perhaps it was the way your tail swayed so softly, your ass perked up tantalisingly teasing, that plump ass of yours calling his name to strike it red. Or maybe it’s the way you cry his name, lips pulled into a pout and brows pinched in irritation when you didn’t get what you wanted from Ghost of Price before you ran to him. 

When you wanted to be pampered with adoration, you searched for Gaz, calling his name while you walked through the TF’s side, ears perked up to catch any sound or indication that you were on the right path. He was someone you liked to cuddle up to, feeling his hand run through your hair and scratch that itch you couldn’t get at the base of your tail —sensitive, but needed. 

Gaz was a rather tender and caring owner, his soft laughter and comforting embrace lulling you to sleep in his lap, tail curled around his calf, arms clinging to his shoulders and face buried under his jaw, nuzzling and breathing in the vanilla and woody scent of his. You would cling onto him for hours on end without letting him move or work, the neglected pet that demanded attention and love. He couldn’t reject you without you pulling a face, teary eyes and flushed cheeks, your ears drooping down and tail depressingly hanging between your legs. And the moment your little fangs poked out from under your lip, biting your bottom one until it threatened to bleed, he’d already agreed to become your bed.

Price was stricter with you than anyone else, more so than Ghost - your handler - was. He had a hard and unmoving hand, mind shielded from your doe eyes and pout, steeled to a T to prevent you from getting your way with him, and his character perfected to accommodate you without spoiling you too much. You were his best girl, but that didn’t mean he’d treat you like a pampered princess, he picked you for your tenacity and feistiness, someone strong and independant. 

Yet here you were, clawing and mewling at him, staring at him with teary eyes and a needy whine to have his attention on you. Fortunately, Price was a generous owner, occasionally letting you do as you wished, climbing onto his lap and somehow, you could nap on his lap and not fall off. If he was too busy to indulge you, he’d give you a harsh stare and order you to sleep on his couch where he left his jacket and a few soft blankets for you after he watched you shiver and whimper in your sleep. It stung his heart to watch his precious kitten shake and cry, suffer from his cold, lonely couch, so he got you whatever he thought you needed to feel cozy and comfortable when he was too busy. 

When you wanted some quiet, but didn’t want to be alone, you looked out for Ghost, your handler was the calmest of the bunch, a source of peace and solace. If you were bored from bothering Price, tired of Gaz’s petting or full from Soap’s stuffing, you ran to him for sleep, not just a short nap. He was the man you often slept with at night, taking up half his bed and cuddling up to him. He often woke up with your face nuzzled up his neck, nails sunken into his shirt and tail curled around his arm, waist or thigh. 

He was kind in his wrong way, letting you go scot free with many mistakes that he would reprimand others for doing: ripping his clothes, staring at his uncovered face, asking for kisses, demanding affection, and taking up his room like you owned it. You’re a little rascal, rubbing your face in all of his stuff and leaving stray furs stuck to his clothes, smothering him with your scent and body, taking up his bed, his sheets and his room as a means of showing off your possession. It amused him, your possessive nature of him and the rest, like the way he collared you in black lace to show people who you belonged to. That pretty neck of yours and the sweet voice that cried whenever he scuffed you too roughly was his.

You were a gem to live with, truly, but when you weren’t, you were a proper brat, one that needed to be punished. Needing a firm hand to put you back in your place with a hard fuck, ignoring your hiss and struggle while he pinned you to the couch. You might whine and fight him, but he knew you liked it - craved it - from the way your little cunt tightened around his cock, milking him dry of all his worth. 

You don’t take well to punishment, clawing and biting at them until someone ties you up prettily, leaving you vulnerable and unable to stop him from exacting your lesson. You have to learn one way or another, they can’t leave you spoiled rotten and keep pampering you if you’re a bad pet. 

Eventually, you’ll calm down and learn your lesson, tired out by four different cocks, holes filled and stretched out and cunt satiated. You were a cock and cum-drunk pet with your holes leaking cum, rolling down your ass and fur matted from being pulled on so much. You mewled tiredly and let them manhandle you as they saw fit, purring at every little touch of soft affection and easily moved to Ghost’s bed at night.

Hopefully, you’d listen to them when you woke up. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

Eddie had called out of work the next day. Steve could hear him making his apologies to Mrs. Henderson who'd taken over the running of the shop when her husband passed.

Steve knew she'd probably tell him to stay home for the rest of the week, probably longer if she could get away with it, but Eddie loved every second he spent working there. Adored Dustin. Adored the other kids, Steve's kids, who used the back room for their dice game after closing on Thursday evenings.

Eddie would have to be beaten away from the premises with a bat. A bat with nails.

Steve might just have to give it a try if the idiot refused to rest properly.

He wasn't mothering him.

He was like… distant cousining him.

When he heard Eddie retreat back to his room after the call and when a light rumbling of snores came through the wall maybe a half an hour later, Steve finally made his exit from his room.

He hadn’t wanted Eddie to think he needed to put on a brave face or act like he was okay if Steve was out in the public spaces while he made the call. 

Not because he cared.

Just so Eddie wouldn’t have to pretend.

And so he himself didn’t have to deal with the tension.

Yeah, right.

Also, it was the least he could do to complete Eddie's designated chores off the whiteboard that there had been war over. 

Robin and Eddie’s friend Chrissy had been forced to come in and mediate the whiteboard before one of them set the other's hair on fire. Though by the end of the day the two best friends had been too busy making eyes at each other to be of any help.

Steve was taking a risk; messing with the delicate whiteboard balance that stayed the same, week in, week out, lest another war start. But if Eddie wasn’t up for going to work, he certainly wouldn’t be up for sweeping, mopping, countertops and garbage.

And like, Steve could hardly blame him, he’d been through a lot yesterday, he’d been betrayed by the guy he’d cared most about. He was attacked and had his heart broken all in one night.

So it was whatever.

Just a few chores. 

Whatever.

At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping the noise down. Eddie could sleep through the apartment being ripped up by a cyclone then dropped into Oz.

He’d probably sleep through any and all musical numbers to follow, too.

Though he’d be bummed about missing them.

A few hours had passed by that point and Steve was just about to sit his lovely bottom on the couch to enjoy some good old fashioned thoughtless tv when there was a knock at the door.

He half expected Mrs. Henderson to be on the other side with half a hospital in tow behind her as well as, like, fifteen gallons of her famous chicken noodle soup. Which Steve would not turn down for love nor money and would steal a minimum 50% share.

As was his right.

But it wasn’t Claudia.

It was some guy. 

Some guy who had a bandage over his nose, a harsh purple colour blooming underneath, sitting a little off as though broken. Some guy who had cuts and scratch marks all over his face and neck.

Some guy who seemed to be affronted at the very sight of him.

But as he stood there Steve could see the clogged up gears working in his brain before the guy opened his mouth and said "You're Steve, the roommate."

Steve pursed his lips. 

Well, this interaction was off to a great start. 

Though if this was who Steve thought he was, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

"I'm Steve. Eddie's the roommate.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “What was with the look?"

The guy blinked at him. "What look?"

"The look you gave me, when I opened the door. Like I'd shit on your shoe." He answered with a cocked eyebrow and a cocked hip.

"Oh, uh… I just thought Eddie had shacked up with someone already.” The guy laughed. “Bit soon.” He shrugged and smiled at Steve as though looking for some kind of commiseration for a good joke, two men giving each other nudges about how silly their wives were or whatever other shit straight people did.

But Steve had no commiseration to give.

So this was definitely the shithead, then. Rick.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, practically acting like a barricade, blocking off access to the apartment with his arms crossed. "Don’t like the idea of him having someone at home?” He asked in a light tone. “Bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

Rick’s face immediately soured. "That wasn't his business to tell."

“I think you lose the privilege to that kind of privacy when you fuck around on people you’re supposed to love.” Steve shrugged. “Or just people in general.”

“Who the hell are you to judge me?” Rick puffed his chest out. “You don’t know me.”

“And thank god for that. I don’t need to know you. I know you’re a cheater, that’s enough.”

Rick scoffed. “Whatever, man. I’m not here to debate morality or some shit with you. I’m here to see Eddie.”

“No.” Steve answered as simply as he could. 

The guy seemed to need things to be concise.

Rick looked bewildered. “Ex- excuse me?”

“You got cotton in your ears or something? I said no.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? His keeper? You know he hates you right?”

Steve pulled his mouth down into a mocking pout. “Oh no.” He sighed, deadpan. “I’m so heartbroken.”

“Listen, I’m not getting into it with you right now, man. So call Eddie out or move.”

“Or what?” Steve leaned forward a little, feeling his blood light on fire. 

There would be nothing more he’d love at this moment than Rick trying to square up to fight. 

The guy was a little taller than him, but Steve was much broader, much stronger and though it wasn’t something he liked to do, he knew he could throw a decent punch if it was for someone else.

That much was obvious. 

Thinking back on the things Eddie had said last night, the things Rick had tried, the way he’d cried into Steve’s shoulder, Steve would break Rick’s nose all over again if given half a chance.

“Steve.”

Eddie appeared next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from the door.

Rick looked between the two of them before his eyes landed back on Steve, snapping at him “You can fuck off now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh, can I?’, but even so, he looked at Eddie, waiting for some sign of what he wanted, whether he wanted him to stay or go.

But Eddie gave no indication of what he wanted, wedging himself in between the two and pulling the door tighter to himself, his expression thunderous through the blooming bruises and angry cuts.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve took that as his cue to go. Even through all the bluster and posturing and how much the two of them still didn’t like each other-

We barely tolerate each other, Steve insisted to himself, we don’t like each other. I don’t like him.

-he wasn’t going to force himself into this drama and if Eddie needed to tear this guy to shreds on his own, Steve would let him.

But he had barely taken a step back before Eddie’s hand shot out, grasping at what he could until he had a fistful of Steve’s shirt, white knuckling it and stopping him in his tracks.

The movement was hidden by the door, Rick wouldn’t have been able to see it and Eddie didn’t acknowledge that he’d done anything, still staring his ex down.

Steve stopped dead where he was and when Eddie seemed to realise that he wouldn’t be moving, his hand loosened, coming back up to rest against the door.

“I’m here to sort things out between us. Try to fix it.” Rick said, his voice going soft.

Eddie exhaled a derisive laugh through his nose. “Why don’t you go and ‘fix’ your wife?”

Steve crossed his arms, standing guard in the back but still mostly out of sight.

“C’mon babe…” Rick reached out, attempting to grasp at Eddie’s fingers but Eddie snatched his hand back. “I think you’re just… making a big deal out of this when you don’t need to.”

“A big deal?” Eddie snapped, leaning forward. “Not only have you been cheating on your wife but you’ve been cheating on me too.”

“You?” Rick sputtered, incredulous.

He exhaled with an eye roll and only then noticed that Steve was still standing there.

“Are you serious?” Rick almost shrieked. “What the hell are you still here for? Show’s over, normie!” He waved his hand in Steve’s direction as though dismissing him.

Steve raised his eyebrows and smiled back, not moving an inch.

Rick looked back to Eddie. “Are you not going to do anything about him? We’re in the middle-”

“Oh my god.” Steve injected as much sarcasm as he could. “Is this a private conversation? I had no idea.”

Rick’s face was turning red with frustration. “You got a real attitude problem, man.”

Steve turned his mouth down in a pout. “Oh no.”

“That’s it.” Rick slammed against the door all of a sudden, wrenching it from Eddie’s grip and almost blowing it open if it wasn’t for Steve’s hands stopping it in its tracks.

The sudden stop jostled Rick, sending him slightly off balance and Eddie took the opportunity to kick out hard, swinging his leg up until it landed in between Rick’s legs. 

Eddie retracted his foot for just a second as Rick crumpled with a scream of pain before kicking out again, catching him in the hip and shoving him back into the hallway, sending him sprawling.

“Lose my fucking number, asshole.” 

Eddie spat down at Rick before turning back inside and slamming the door behind him.

His eyes were still narrowed and furious as he glared at Steve who could do nothing but stand there.

The sound of Rick’s groans were still echoing beyond the door as the two of them looked at each other.

The silence stretched on as Eddie heaved heavy breaths in and out and Steve stared dumbfounded.

There was a glossy sheen to Eddie’s eyes by the time Steve opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say.

But it didn’t matter.

Eddie stormed past him without a backwards glance, his hair just disappearing behind the door before he slammed it closed and the wailing of a guitar and the crashing of drums started to scream out of the speakers in his room.

He didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day. Didn’t knock on his door to try to pull him out and didn’t try to get him to talk.

Steve was only just waking up the day after when he heard Eddie’s bedroom door open and shuffling coming down the hall towards the phone.

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting in his room while he heard Eddie’s muttered conversation. 

He didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to have to force his presence on Eddie before it was necessary but he really had to pee and he’d have to walk past the phone to get to the bathroom.

Thankfully the conversation didn’t last long but then Eddie shuffled away from his own room towards the bathroom and Steve had to take some very deep breaths.

He couldn’t really be mad at him for it, the guy hadn’t come out of his room at all yesterday after the confrontation, he deserved to pee but Steve felt like his kidneys were gonna start failing at any second.

When he heard Eddie shuffle back into his room Steve nearly cracked the wall with how hard he threw the door open, rushing down the hallway and into the bathroom before he exploded.

Eddie hadn’t made another appearance by the time Steve was grabbing his keys for work and as much as it irritated him, he was feeling a little wary about leaving him all alone for most of the day.

Turned out he didn’t really need to worry about it.

Just as he had turned back towards Eddie’s room, there was a knock on the front door.

He swung it open to find bouncing blonde curls and a bright perky smile.

“Hi Steve.”

“Oh, hey Chrissy.” He stepped aside, allowing her to sweep inside. Her sweater was very unusual. Dark blue and baggy and tucked into her light wash jeans. Steve could have sworn he’d seen it before. There was a large plastic bag in her hand that a glance inside told him was filled with every tooth rottingly sweet thing she could have scooped off the shelves at their local store.

She placed the bag on the kitchen counter with a light clink of glass against glass coming from inside.

Maybe it was also a day-drunk type of visit.

“How is he?” Chrissy asked, blinking up at him with her big earnest eyes.

“I’m… not sure?” Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

“I think I’m probably going to call over to Robin’s after work.” He muttered, trying to keep his burning blush down. “Hang out for a little bit.”

He didn’t think he needed to say he was doing it to give Chrissy and Eddie their space, to do their ice-cream and chocolate and alcohol and talk about how terrible men were without him hovering. But thankfully she got it, smiling at him so bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Could you…?” She hesitated, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. “Could you ask Robin- never mind.”

Steve opened his mouth to assure her it was okay to continue but she barrelled on.

“The boys are coming over later too. Is that okay?”

“The boys?” Did she mean the kids?

“From the band.”

“Oh! Yeah I mean why wouldn’t that be okay? Eddie lives here too.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to check in case-”

“In case I complained about it later?” He tried to ask in his kindest tone. Maybe he’d been guilty of bitching about them in the past but he would never deny Eddie his support system, not at s time like this.

Even if he did… dislike him?

Did he still dislike him?

What was he talking about, of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” Chrissy looked incredibly guilty and Steve couldn’t stand it.

“No, you were right to ask. I haven’t- I’ve been a bit rude in the past.”

She looked like she wanted to apologise again so he shot her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “I have to get to work, but take care of him, yeah?”

She gave him a curious look but nodded, sending him out the door with a wave of her hand, her sleeve following loosely where it was still pulled over her fingers.

Steve was halfway through his shift by the time Robin came in. She worked shorter hours ever since she’d taken that part time internship as a translator.

They’d just gotten past their mid-day coffee rush by the time they had a chance to talk.

“Are you doing anything after this?” He asked her, leaning back against the counter.

“Is this your way of asking me out?” Robin was rifling through the under counter refrigerator next to him, throwing out any old stock that had gone out of date.

“Yes.” Steve nodded. “I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years and I thought now was the best time to confess.”

“You could have picked a more romantic location.” She sniffed at a container of strawberries, considering before shaking her head and dumping them.

“But my heart told me it had to be now, Birdie.”

Robin just rolled her eyes at him.

“So?” He nudged her with his foot, very nearly sending her off balance. “You, me, two of the best subs this city has and your couch. It’s my best offer.”

She shut the refrigerator door, pushing herself to stand, using the counter for balance. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Steve absentmindedly snapped his fingers at her, remembering.

“Oh! You have a date tonight, right?” 

“I did have a date tonight but sh- he cancelled.”

“He cancelled, did he?” Steve smirked, trying not to enjoy the poorly masked revulsion on Robin’s face at having to pretend to be dating a man.

“Yes. He did. Rain check for another time.”

“Bummer.” 

Robin hadn’t told him much about the girl she was seeing and Steve hadn’t pushed for any more information than she was willing to give. When she wanted him to know, he’d know.

“But-” he continued “-that leaves your schedule wide open for a date with me.” He spread his arms wide open and smiled at her.

“Well, aren't I just the luckiest girl in the world?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“The luckiest. Any reason for the rain check?”

Robin nodded. “Friend emergency.”

“Oh. That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s a very sweet…” her nose scrunched up, “boy.”

“Very sweet boy.” He repeated with a smile. “So can I steal your keys? Have everything all spread out for you when you get home?” He dragged his hand down his chest, wiggling his hips.

“God, Steven.” Robin shuddered. “You’re repulsive.”

“Wrong. I am a dish.”

“Ugh. Gag.”

Steve pouted at her. “I’ll get you a milkshake too, how about that?”

She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. “Fine.”

She could only hold for so long before she started to break, cracking a smile.

“If you two don’t mind,” a voice next to them said and they both jumped, seeing Mark their manager standing there, “could you stop flirting and get back to work?”

Neither of them even bothered arguing that they were not flirting anymore. They both knew the rest of the staff had a betting pool going on when they would get together.

They would be waiting a very long time.

By the time Robin got home, Steve had himself swaddled in her blankets and had stolen her best hot water bottle.

Why did she live somewhere so cold?

His toasty warmth didn’t last very long, however. 

She wrestled the hot water bottle from his grip by resorting to dirty tactics, pulling at his hair until he let it go. 

“How many times have I told you the hair is off limits?” He hissed at her, trying to fix it. His hair was his fucking signature, how could she be so rude?

“That is exactly why I go for it every time. It’s your weak spot.” She grinned, smug in her win and attempting to pull the throw off of him as well.

“Go get one of my sweaters if you’re gonna be such a big bitch baby about it. I just got off work.” She pouted, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m tired.”

“I brought you subs and milkshakes!”

Robin heaved out a heavy, put upon sigh. “Fine.” She heaved herself up from the couch, still clutching at the hot water bottle and disappeared inside her room.

Steve took the opportunity to swaddle himself again, just getting cosy when he heard Robin call out, “Evie, did you steal my sweater?”

“Which one?” He shouted back. He probably had five or more of hers at home and he wasn’t even sure if all of those had started out as hers or his.

“The blue one!”

“Which blue one?”

“The new blue one!”

“What does it look like?”

“What do you think it looks like, it’s fucking blue!”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to remember any blue sweaters that existed within his own apartment. 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have it. I don’t even remember you getting a new blue sweater.”

“Well where the hell is it then?”

“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t even know it existed!”

“You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Maybe the sweater fairy stole it.” He snickered to himself until a dark red sweater that had definitely belonged to him first hit him in the face.

“You are the sweater fairy.” She pouted, sitting back down and stealing the throw from his lap.

“Don’t hate crime me. It’s rude.” He tugged the throw back over his legs, leaving her enough slack to cover herself as well.

Robin reached over to snatch her sub from the coffee table. “So.”

“So.”

“Something’s going on with Eddie.”

“What?” Steve ran through the entire day in his head. He didn’t think he’d mentioned Eddie once. “When did I say there was something going on with Eddie?”

“You didn’t.” Robin’s mouth went slack in the way it usually did whenever she was hiding something but she covered it up with a large bite, speaking through a full mouth. “But you’re here and not at home so…”

“That’s not that unusual.”

“No, but what is unusual is that you asked if you could steal my keys instead of just taking them.”

“Oh.” Yeah. That was not the norm. “Um, well it’s not really my place to say-”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Tell me.” She jabbed him with a sharp elbow.

“I don’t know if I can.” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“I mean, nothing too personal, if you don’t wanna.” She backtracked with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. The thing is it’s not my business, it’s Eddie’s.” He shrugged. “But there was some… relationship drama the other night.”

“Ooh. Juicy drama?”

Steve winced. “Not exactly. More like… red flag drama.”

“Oh shit. Chr- I didn’t know that.”

Steve looked at her, bewildered. “I wouldn’t expect you to, how would you know?”

Robin just shrugged, shoving another large bite into her mouth. 

“I don’t really… I’m not comfortable talking about the things Eddie and I talked about but I do need you to help me… figure myself out.”

“Okay, that I can do. I’m an expert at it. I helped you find your sexuality.”

“Find it? It wasn’t fucking lost Birdie.”

“Yeah, but I brought it out into the sunlight.”

“Jesus, you’re acting like you released it from captivity. I knew. I’ve always known. Just because you didn’t know that I know, doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

She shoved his arm. “I unlocked it.”

He shoved her back. “You didn’t unlock shit.”

She shoved him again. “I unlocked it. You’re welcome.” 

He gave her a final shove with a huff to go right along with it. “Whatever.”

“Okay, no more side tracking. Tell me your scrambly brain thoughts.”

“Alright. Um. Okay. So.” Shit. How much could he tell her without either breaking Eddie’s trust or revealing too much. “So there was drama the other night, between Eddie and the boyfriend, you know that much. I won’t say what happened but he didn’t get home until like four in the morning and he called out of work yesterday and today-”

“He called out?!” Robin shrieked, open mouthed. She’d lived with Eddie long enough and been through enough of Steve’s bitching to know just how much Eddie loved that job.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was… it wasn’t good, Birdie, what happened. It was actually really fucking fucked up.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“So then yesterday he’s trying to sleep it off pretty much and there’s a knock at the door.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah and I go get it because I had assumed it would be Mrs. Henderson with some chicken noodle soup and you know I’d kill my own mother for some of that soup-”

“-I’d kill your mother for some too, yes.”

“-yeah. But it wasn’t Mrs. Henderson, it was Rick, the boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, I don’t know and he was trying to like, bully his way into the apartment to see Eddie and I don’t know what happened with me but-”

“-you went full guard dog protector mode didn’t you?”

“I…” Steve sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, I did. Why did I do that? It’s none of my business. I don’t even like the guy. Why would I care?”

“Because you always care, Evie. You saw someone who needed help and you helped, it’s what you do.”

Steve scoffed. “Hardly. It’s not like I’m some fucking selfless hero for doing it.”

“Nah, you kinda are.”

“It was just some guy!”

“And you’re just some guy too!”

Steve glared at her, offended. “You take that back.”

Robin looked at him for a moment. “Okay, fair, retracted.”

He gave her a small grin and dragged the sleeves of the sweater over his fingers.

“Hey! Stop, you’ll stretch it!”

“What does it matter if I stretch it, it’s mine.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” He jabbed her in the side, knowing full well that if they continued the way they were this could go on all night. It had gone on all night more than once.

Robin squawked and immediately lunged, her hands grabbing at the top of his head. 

“No, no! I told you not the hair!”

“And I told you it’s your weakness.” She hissed, her eyes flashing as he scrambled at her wrists before she could get her fingers buried deep enough.

“Boobies!” He shouted, as loud as possible. The effect was immediate, Robin tried to cringe away from him with a look of disgust. “Boobies, boobies, boobies!”

“Oh my god are you five fucking years old? Can you not say tits or breasts or fucking mammary glands or something like a damn adult?” She wrenched her wrists away from him. “I’m so embarrassed for you.”

“I’m embarrassed of your face.”

“I’m embarrassed of your weird man hair.” She scowled, patting at his chest. 

“You shouldn’t be. Everyone loves the chest hair. Even the lesbians. It’s like a respect thing.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Steve pouted to himself.

He just wanted to help. He wanted to make sure Eddie was okay, that he would continue to be okay and there was this horrible little part in the back of his head that also wanted to make sure that no one would put their hands on Eddie ever like that again.

It was weird and possessive in a way he really shouldn’t have been feeling about his irritating as shit roommate who didn’t even have the courtesy to play guitar with headphones on half the time.

No matter how good his playing was.

“I can smell your hair burning.”

“What do I do now, Birdie?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I want to help, I guess. But I don’t know how. We don’t even like each other, why would he accept my help?”

“Well… how did he react when you did what you did?”

“He… I guess he… I was going to leave when Rick came to the door and he stopped me. He didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t even look at me but he grabbed onto me and… I think he was scared, Rob. I’ve never seen him scared.”

“Well Steve, I think you’re gonna do what you always do. Help. Whether you know you’re doing it or not, whether you even really mean to, you always help.”

"You're making me out to be some sort of saint."

“I’m really not.” She shook her head. “You’re just… you.”

“Wow, incredible observation there, Birdie.”

“Oh, fuck off and finish this for me.” She shoved the rest of her sub into his hands.

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

[balancingdiet]

So i just finished the movie earlier and I am in so much feels right now HAHAHA. Just a mini rant regarding the movie! MAJOR spoilers ahead

i'm so happy i went in blind for the movie so i literally have 0 information about it. The only thing I know was Heiji and Kaitou Kid were gonna be it. So colour me surprise when there were a lot more easter eggs and fun references to canon scenes than I expected, and I do semi-enjoy them. But I was truly SHOOKEDTH when Aoko appeared. I literally gasped and was screaming internally in the cinema because MY BABY GIRL??? While it made sense that she should be there when Inspector Nakamori was shot, I still didn't expect her to be included in the movie at all. Every scene with her were the best moments I had tbh, followed closely by Kaitou Kid's angst when he couldn't save Inspector Nakamori (hmm yes i love the pain and guilt and emotional distress HAHAHAH) I would probably need a second or third watch to fully grasp how they solve the riddles to the treasure thingy, but I'm okay to cast that concern aside in exchange for enjoyable, strong character-driven moments! But sadly, the dynamics were kinda lacking in this movie for me. There were just so many things going on, with the confession plan, then the murder, then the kidnapping, then the riddle, then the story of the swords... you get it. This movie had so many things going on that nothing was going on at the same time? I felt like if I were to watch any other movie with Heiji&Conan/Kid&Conan/Heiji&Kid in it, their dynamics would be the same and underdeveloped. In fact, what I love were actually the unconventional or lesser popular dynamics? Like I mentioned, Aoko really steal the show, and I enjoyed her interaction with Conan and referencing to Kaito's younger self LOL. And when Ran noticed and was supportive of Heiji's confession plan, their moments were super nice and cute too! (Though it was no shocker when Heiji's confession was ruined, once again. At this point I really do feel bad for him.) Now, to the important part: the cousin reveal HAHAHHAHA When Heiji asked Conan if he has a sibling or something, I was kinda "hmm??", but I didn't thought they would really go with the reveal in this movie. While being a KaiShin shipper, I still adore ShinRan and KaiAo a lot (those KaiAo crumbs cured my sadness HAHAHA). I'm not sure if I would incorporate this new reveal into any future KaiShin fics (if I'm writing any), but still I am kinda disappointed that they decided to reveal it this way, like it's just a "by the way thing". But what was worse was that Toichi is indeed really alive, with this information backed and followed up since the Midnight Crow arc in Magic Kaito Manga. This "plot twist" actually felt rather flat, like it was done just for the shock factor and not for substance. Like there really wasn't a point for it? Unless the dcmk verse is really going to unite and they are going to take down the BO + Snake gang together in the future? Idk. This whole thing feels cheap... and an unnecessary plot device. Honestly, it would be a lot cooler if Phantom lady (Chikage) plays a more active role than Toichi's "Kaitou Corbeau". His actual death was what motivated and made Kaito who Kaito is today. And to just rip that away because Gosho cannot allow good characters to remain dead... is just kinda ugh. MagicKaito-verse is kinda messed up for me now and I felt a little bit sad when I walk out of the cinema after that LOL. I still love DCMK and I will always adore all the characters in my heart (bigger shoutout to Aoko though LOL), but I just hope that whatever direction Gosho takes with the story, it's for the better: Rather than relying on the characters to make the plot interesting, he should address/better the plot that drives the characters to complete their interesting stories. Not sure if this make sense but yeah. Oh well, if you have read till this far, thank you for hearing my long rant! I do feel a bit better after this HAHAHAHA

[animalcrossingshowdown]

someone sent in this ask and I spent literal hours putting together this tutorial but then it wouldn't let me post it and when I went back into my inbox the ask was gone?? good thing I copy and pasted it, so here it is in its own post

I'm not sure if this will work with programs other than photoshop, but this is how I do it. I know @shinobi-bacon has a tutorial here on how they do it which is pretty different from the way I do it, so if my tutorial is confusing maybe theirs will click with you better lmao. I stole the greenscreen idea from them anyway

SO FIRST, you want your villager on a green screen background. to do this, go to harv's island and use a custom pattern to make the walls and floors bright green. If the villager you're using has green in their design, you'll have to pick a different colour that isn't in their design, but for most villagers green is fine.

if your villager has every colour on them like pietro or stiches then rip you're gonna have to do some manual editing frame by frame. try to choose a colour that doesn't touch the edges of their silhouette too much in that case because it'll make life easier for you

so once you have them in green purgatory, record them doing their emote or whatever. I just use the built-in screen record function that the switch has. press and hold this button to record the last 30 seconds that your switch displayed:

next send that video to your computer and trim off the start of the video so it starts right before a recognizable part of the animation. for this emote I cut it off right before the blink. if you have a slow computer, you'll probably want to trim the end off too so the video is only a little bit longer than one full animation loop

(you can use the video editing software of your preference, I just use quick time player Edit -> Trim)

okay time for photoshop. go File -> Import -> Video Frames to Layers

for "range to import" select "from beginning to end" (or you could skip the last step about trimming the video and select a range here, but I find it kind of finicky), and make sure "make frame animation" is checked

once imported, if it doesn't pop up on it's own, go Window -> Timeline to get your animation at the bottom

click through those frames at the bottom until you find an easily recognizable frame (I chose the first frame where her eyes are closed) and delete all the frames before it. in the layers panel, the layer from the frame you've selected should be the only one turned on. delete all the layers below it

now go through the frames to find the next identical frame. this is where the animation loops. delete that frame and all the frames after it, as well as all of their corresponding layers (note in the picture, frame 121 is selected, and it's exactly the same as the frame from the start of the animation)

hit the play button on the bottom left to double check that it loops properly

next, make sure both THE FIRST FRAME AND BOTTOM LAYER are selected, and crop and reduce the image to your desired size. you can do this step later if you want, it's just that doing it now will reduce the load on your computer and make it run a bit faster. just as long as the first frame and bottom layer are selected, you can do this at any time

SAVE HERE because if you mess up this next part it's a pain to fix, but it's easy to quit and start over if need be

now it's time for my best friend the actions panel !! say hi actions panel !! (Window -> Actions). what the actions panel does is record your steps so you can quickly automate repetitive tasks.

in the actions panel, click the folder and name it whatever you want

then click the little plus and name that whatever you want and hit record. You'll see the dot turn red to indicate that your actions are now being recorded

now with the BOTTOM LAYER AND FIRST FRAME selected (ignore that I have the wrong layer selected in the pictures, I fixed it after), go to Select -> Colour Range

click on a part of the canvas that would be green

shift+click on the rest of the green background and adjust the fuzziness until just the character's silhouette remains

hit OK, now the background should be selected. go Select -> Inverse so that the character is selected, and click on layer mask.

click the next frame button (you MUST click the button, not the actual frame. you need the recording to recognize "go to next frame" and not "select frame 2"),

then keyboard shortcut option + ] to select the next layer up (again, you MUST use the shortcut so it knows to move up one layer and not just "select layer 2"),

and then stop recording.

now just repeatedly click the play button and it will do all those steps we just did for each frame :)

this part is usually where it gets messed up for me. if it did something weird like duplicate the same frame or layer your animation over a static frame, just quit and reopen that save I told you to make earlier. the action recording you just made will still be there when you reopen photoshop, so just select the first frame and bottom layer and repeatedly hit play again. if it STILL doesn't work, you probably did something wrong

the recording is now saved in photoshop forever until you delete it, so you can reuse the recording for other gifs! but if they use a different colour background, you'll need to make a new recording (you can see I have separate ones for blue and purple screens). also if you were working with one of those colourful villagers and parts got masked out that shouldn't have been, you'll have to go frame by frame and manually fix them. that's why we masked out the background instead of deleting it.

now it's time to make it into a gif! go File -> Export -> Save for Web. make sure Matte is set to "none" so you don't get those weird white flecks. colours and dither you want as high as they can go, but you can lower them if you need to make the file smaller (though I'd recommend resizing the image smaller first). the bottom left shows your file size. currently as of January 2024, tumblr allows gifs of up to 10MB

and there ya go! gif! :)

[tagidearte-spam-sb]

I find it funny how the fandom (or, at least, a part of the fandom I see a lot) has latched onto the "Moon is obsessed with rules" headcanon. True, he's the one that comes after Gregory for "punishment time", but...

Sun is the one calling the player a rulebreaker and kicking a literal kid straight into the less-than-friendly Glamrocks' waiting arms (for accidentally turning the lights off. As if Gregory would know touching a Freddy shaped security box would do that. If it even was Gregory and, idk, ""someone"" disabling the power in the daycare on purpose). Sun is the one nearly popping his circuits if you don't follow his instructions. Sun is the one threatening to release Moon on you if you so much as colour a page wrong. Sun is the one getting frustrated with Cassie if she screws up somehow (haven't played Ruin in a while, but I do think he freaks out if you approach him in the VR world after only disabling one - or zero - generators).

Moon on the other hand? Moon is fizzyfazzing vibing (well, not in Ruin for obvious reasons). Fulfilling his task and getting the kid? Sure sure, let him just jump from leg to leg first, and walk in a goofy way at an extremely slow pace (even Monty with no legs balancing himself on crutches would probably move faster), while giggling and alerting the entirety of the daycare to his precise jingly location. He only starts taking it seriously and entering the structures when you get some generators on, and even then he's still messing around. The robot cares more about his jester theatrics than his goddamn job. If Moon really does security patrols like many people believe he does, half of them are (or were, prior to the virus) probably him tormenting a poor overworked security guard (rip Vanessa, if you're out there...).

Don't take me wrong. I love a Moon who follows the rules to a malicious degree as much as the next person. And he does seem set on putting Gregory down to sleep and punishing him. He does seem intent on harming you in HW2. But let's be real, Moon doesn't give a shit about his job half the time - doing a goofy walk, riding a carousel... those are much better. If he gets to scare someone while doing it, jackpot for him. We only really see him struggle in Ruin, as far as I recall. Sun is the one running around like a bossy headless chicken trying to get everything in order.

I think it's because Moon is the one who directly says "you must be punished" and harms you? But even then my man jumps on the table, does a goofy move, and flies off to give Gregory some time to hide for their little hide and seek game. Sun is the one getting freaked out and throwing you out without any preamble after the lights turn on.

Again, not shitting on anyone. I just think it's so funny. I legitimately cannot imagine Moon being that serious unless 1) a real intruder is at the pizzaplex, not some snotty kid; 2) Vanny tells him to; 3) something actually dangerous is happening and he's not high on whatever virus is going around.

[kxyera]

How the Ghouls spend time alone (SFW) <3

All fluff, first time i've ever wrote something like this :)

Aurora

I know for a FACT this girl can draw. She can sketch, paint, reference, shade and draw in multiple art styles. She's incredibly proud of her art (AS SHE SHOULD?!) and always draws little sketches of the other ghouls when shes bored or alone. She sometimes rips the pages out and gives it to the ghoul she drew, they always fawn over it and thank her multiple times.

Cirrus

She's a doomscroller. Enough said. She has a screen-time of over 10 hours and is not ashamed whatsoever. She also loves online shopping, she spends at least half her time scrolling to buy things she cant and will probably never afford or wear.

Cumulus

THIS. GIRL. CROCHETS. SHE IS A CROCHET QUEEN. She especially loves making stuffed animals and makes the ghouls little stuffed animals for anti-christmas and their birthdays. They're always personalised and is colour-coded to the giftee's element (EG: Fire = Red wool, Water = Blue wool, Air = White/grey wool, Earth = Green/brown wool, Quintessence = Purple). She loves the time and effort spent in making crochet projects, and absolutely adores seeing the other ghouls' face light up when they're gifted one of her projects.

Sunshine

I feel like she'd just enjoy the alone time. She'd go on walks by herself, skipping and listening to music. She just loves everything and is literally a walking ray of sun. literally.

Swiss

He definitely plays loud music and sings along to it. Other ghouls either love it or hate it, depends on what time of day/night it is. He once woke up Sodo at 2am from it. DEEPLY regretted it. Has always stopped playing music at exactly 10pm after that incident.

Sodo

Depending on his mood, he'll either practice his guitar or go on walks. He almost always practices his guitar as he thinks its the only thing that will keep him focused in on something. He plays to get his mind off of whatever happened and he'll only goes on walks when he knows he needs to properly clear his head.

Mountain

He'd be a gardening boy. His room is full of plants and he knows the exact name of every plant in his room. He'd go out to the ministry gardens and sit underneath one of the trees reading. He's a calm boy.

Rain

You bet your ass if its a rainy day he's out there running around in it. Heavy rain? He loves it. Storm? No problem. Thunder? He'll jump at the large crashes of thunder, but find it to be music to his ears. He takes daily showers and the water has to be cold. He loves cold water (especially in the mornings) and he absolutely has a rainfall shower head. His spare time is spent damp.

Phantom

This little gremlin is a walking pile of chaos. He once baked with the ghoulettes when he was bored. Its safe to say he's now officially banned from the kitchen. Everytime he has spare time alone, he instantly goes to find someone to mess about with. He also plans elaborate pranks to pull on the other ghouls in the future. Yes, he has a notebook with all these plans.

Aether

He’s the type of guy that reads a lot of old novels, always has a book on him. He *loves* H.P. Lovecraft, especially ‘Call of Cthulhu’ and could talk about it for hours by a cozy fire if he had someone to listen

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Something New~Teaser

Pairing: Minho x reader

Summary: Minho’s trying subbing for the first time but doesn’t want to admit that perhaps he likes it just a little bit more than he lets on

Warnings: dom (switch) reader, sub (switch) minho, bdsm mentions, insinuated but nothing too explicit...yet, not in it yet but it’ll have rimming later on (just so y’all know) 

Word Count: 1.1k (for the teaser)

A/N: not done w this one yet but i’ll upload a teaser, enjoy what there is so far and i’ll be out with the finished product sooner or later

the finished fic is here now

A soothing hand trails over his hipbone. 

It’s coaxing, lulling, making his head turn fuzzy, thoughts becoming a jumbled mess...

But he can’t.

Fingers clench the bedsheets, hard enough to make his knuckles turn white, teeth gritting down so hard he’s almost convinced they’ll shatter.

“Loosen up a bit baby, it’s okay, let me take care of you.” Your voice fucking purrs into his ear, an involuntary shudder ripping through his demeanour, body nearly shaking, goosebumps breaking across his skin.

A mewl crawls up his throat and he swallows thickly, trying to hold it back, trying to keep composure, trying to stay-

“Does it feel nice...” The teasing tone already has him spiralling, but what’s just a little bit further? What’s just a little bit more? You smirk lightly, tongue gliding over to wet your lips in a sinfully teasing way that his his heart pounding in his chest. “C’mon, you’ll be a good little kitty? Won’t you?”

He could feel it. Your tongue warm and wet around the shell of his ear. Your whisper, your words deposited straight into his head, engraving into his innermost desires. “All you gotta do is jus’ tell me what you want, tell me where you want me to touch you.”

Fuck.

He squirmed underneath your weight on top of him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Heat rose in his cheeks, up his neck and his face, tinting him up to the very tip of his ears such an endearing shade of pink. So cute, so delectable.

God, you could just eat him alive.

You just need conformation. The go-ahead, the nod of approval that gave you the consent to go any further.

Silence.

And more silence.

And just as quick as the look had appeared, it was gone and despite the bright colouring still smattered across his features, a hardness fills his eyes.

“No.”

The words hit a little bit harder than you’d like to admit. 

You know he’s new to this…the submitting aspect of things but when you had brought up the idea of it, he’d said he was down to try.

In fact, you were barely the one to bring it up. It was all because he’d been helping you pack up your things. 

Minho had asked you to move in with him a few weeks ago and you were elated, obviously agreeing to this next big step in your relationship.

Problem: your current place was a mess of junk with sentimental value and stuff you didn’t really need but insisted on keeping.

Honestly, it was almost like one of the tamer episodes of ‘Hoarders’.

You remember, you’d been packing up your closet and clothes, folding things and putting them in boxes and Minho had been in your room, clearing out whatever junk you kept in your nightstands and under your bed.

“Y/N?”

You hummed in reply, “What is it baby?”

The sound of shuffling reached your ears and when he spoke again it was much closer. “What is this?”

You twisted your body, straining your neck to see what he could possibly be talking about and…

Oh,

Oh.

In his hand, pinched between two fingers was a simple leather collar, black in colour with a silver buckle. A tag attached to the front ring, slightly swinging from his movements.

Minho himself had an unreadable expression. Blank in his await for a response.

Your lips pursed, unsure how to quite formulate one.

You avoided his gaze and he walked closer, taking your undivided attention. “What is this?” He repeated.

Now it was no surprise that you were kinky. Both you and Minho were, your relationship definitely being more on the adventurous side but, well you’d always let him take the lead on things, letting him take up a more dominant role in that area.

And it was quite obvious from the tag, shimmering in the artificial lighting in the room, the tiny letters engraved into it reading ‘pretty boy’.

One could assume that you weren’t the one wearing but administering it from that…

“What does it look like?”

His eyes flickered to the thing as if maybe taking a second look would prove to answer all his questions.

“Well I know it’s a collar,” he replied, almost snootily. “I’m not dumb, I’m just not so sure why ‘pretty boy’ is on it and why you’ve got it…is there something you need to tell me?”

Truth be told, you definitely could’ve told him sooner. 

About your past relationships where you stood in the role that he did. That this was one of your first times not being the dominant one in a relationship.

You could’ve told him but really, you’d kind of given up on it already.

Ever since you were discussing everything; the things you guys were open to, the things you weren’t, limits, safe words, etc, you had tried to hint it to him.

Suggest kinks and offhanded comments that would allude to it but it was the first time you’d seen your very smart-and normally able to read between the lines-boyfriend so inept, unable to put the pieces together.

Plus, he was very intent on domming, and when you told him you were fairly new to subbing he was ecstatic to show you everything. 

“Well? Is there?”

Your mouth opened, a response ready on the tip of your tongue...but nothing. Your mouth shut and so instead you put down everything you were doing and sat on the floor, patting on the space in front of you. “Sit.”

He seemed to contemplate it for a second before following your lead, the thing still grasped in his hand. You sighed. “Just put the collar down.”

Again, he listened.

And, stupidly, but not regrettably, your brain formulated a response without your conscious deciding to.

“Good boy.”

Minho froze and your mouth clamped shut. “Sorry,” flew out in a rush and he nodded like he understood but you knew he didn’t, not really. Not with the way his body turned tense, falling rigid in place, cheeks a brilliant hue of pink.  

The silence filled the room and the tag of the collar in the light caught your eye. You stared at it, counting the seconds in your head, recalling the memories that came flooding back with such a familiar object.

“I should’ve told you earlier, I know...it’s just...” Lamely, almost cringing at your own words, you trailed off, downturned eyes flitting up to read him.

But he gives zero indication of how he feels. Nothing but a single nod, head bobbing down, eyes averted from yours. “Do you wanna say anything?”

“Try it on me.”

“I know, it’s-wait, what?”

“Try it on me.”

anyway, tell me what you think so far...and if anyone wants to be tagged lmk

[rayas-ryoiki-tenkai]

feeling things for 261. So have some 236 angst with 261 spoilers (was I thinking about billies "the greatest" while writing this? Yes. Yes I was)

Sometimes, Satoru liked thinking about his youth.

It wasn't much eventful. He didn't get his clothes muddy from childish messes, neither did he scrape his knees during a rebellious game of football on neighbouring roads. None to call him a disrespectful godforsaken brat for silly little pranks.

No pesky classmates and their shenanigans. No ugly squawks from street vendors. No one to glue to his side and ask what song he was listening to.

For it to be so tasteless, so timidly hollow as if acknowledging its existence had dire consequences. It mustn't fit for a body like his.

As a child grows, their bones ossify to lock in the crutch of a growing future. Wiggle room, so bony parts could shift to best fit for the adulthood that was shaped by their own hands. Gojo felt he was born with his bones complete.

Satoru cranes his neck to catch the glare of the sun head-on. He knows the golden hour colours the blue of his eyes the best, much too used to filling the role under the spotlight. Perhaps, in a strange way, Satoru felt he only existed as such: through the eyes of others and nothing more.

The weight settles on his chest but it's nothing new, so he chooses to pull a smile instead. It's hilarious, really. Knee-slapping, even. Within the churning of responsibilities that carved on his skin in slashes, Satoru's thinking of a regretful childhood.

What would it have been like if he bled a little from cycling over a cracked curb? Would it have hurt the way he'd seen on a passing child once?

Would someone pull his head into their chest with a consoling "who's a strong boy?" without it dampening his breath?

Satoru coughs a dribble of blood, though he intends it to be a bubbling laugh. Someone did cycle with him. Satoru can still feel the greedy arm he'd wrapped around his waist, clear days in the blue spring, twin birds of black and white chasing each other tree by tree.

Satoru liked thinking about his childhood, for that selective moment where his best friend let him have one.

Energy warps in insignificant swirls around him. His body feels light even if fate keeps him lying in his own blood, a sadistic call from gravity. The sky looks unhelpfully bland, though Satoru finds it to be pleasantly stimulating. No clouds to pose as backdrop. No aerial flybys scribbling autographs with the trail of their engines.

Devoid of extravagance. It's simple. Dull. Gojo wishes there were more sights to see like this one. Perhaps, there'll be more down south.

You were wrong, Suguru. Satoru sighs to himself. I couldn't have been the strongest. Not when I lost to you.

Satoru lifts his hand to block the sun in his eyes. His wrist falls short in a grievous loss of blood. Crimson drops on the tainted skin of his cheek. Strength slips from each of his dying cells.

The call of the strongest was a curse beyond one's he'd exorcised. Even as his limbs roll with a cry of their own, the camera rolls, and he is to fill the role of centre-stage until somebody rolled out his puppet corpse. Satoru briefly recalls the doings of his body after a supposed death, and Yuta's wide eyes at his reaction to doing whatever the hell they wanted.

So much for strongest. Even in ripping through the higher ups with the claws of the collective vengeance after Jujutsu society, nothing changed. The grumps were dead. Maliciously killed to feel the death equivalent to the magnitude on their hands. Still...

"Please, don't bear the burden of being a monster alone."

Nothing changed. The burden never lessened. Never shared. To belong to him and him only. And nothing changed.

I'm sorry, Yuta.

Satoru doesn't cry. Though the burn of his disappointment stings bad enough to spring a few tears in his eyes.

I'm sorry.

A plane cuts through the sky. The burden never lessened on his shoulders. Gojo passes it on to someone else.

[hilsonamore]

HI LOVIES

here’s a small little get to know me, since everybody’s doing it and i don’t want to feel left out-😔

BE KIND, ANY SORT OF BIGOT IN NOT WELCOME IN THIS BLOG!!!

Note: This is my personal blog full of HOUSE MD content, other hyperfixations and also personal rants. Mainly House Md stuff, though😵‍💫

I’m Vi, but you’re welcome to call me whatever you feel like suits me best✨ and my pronouns are she/her, they/them, but i prefer the latter :)

i’m a chaotic sapphic on the ace spectrum with a thing for unattainable old men i guess🤓

I BELIEVE IN ACE WORLD DOMINATION!!!

I love science and psychology and i want to become a doctor (and yes, i partially blame house for it, but it’s also because i have a mind-numbing curiosity that medicine manages to satisfy).

I love books and movies that rip my heart out, i love obsessing over shows and hyperfixating on one thing for a really long time, i draw and write poetry, i constantly play the same 3 songs on the guitar because i can’t bother to learn anything else, i hate listening to my music with other people because it just feels wrong, i bake cupcakes and cry a lot and i study hard and cry some more, i’m responsible but also pretty gullible, too sensitive for my own good and i value my alone time.

I’m an INFJ, overshare a lot, pretty perfectionistic but also prone to burn-out

currently obsessed with: house m.d, medicine related stuff and trying to ace rehearsal for my upcoming play😔

Top 3 Favourite shows (in that order):

I) House M.D

II) Stranger Things

III) Friends

Top 3 Favourite movies:

I) Dead poets society

II) But i’m a cheerleader

III) Pride and Prejudice

Top 3 Favourite books:

I) A little life

II) Six of Crows Duology

III) Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe

Top 3 favourite songs:

I) Punisher (copycat killer version) - Phoebe bridgers

II) I don’t smoke - Mitski

III) Who we are - Hozier

Fandoms: House Md, Dead poets society, Stranger things, pjo , pride and prejudice, the owl house, a little life + multiple others that i can’t remember right now

I love dark colours, the forest after the effects of rain, the smell of books and snuffed-out candles, Midnight comfort, soft lights and picture-covered walls, melancholic emotions and soulful music, the feeling of having achieved something, laying down and listening to my heartbeats, my best friend’s fingers playing with my hair, deep talks

I feel like an old, tired but also knowledge-thirsty soul in a world that values results over the pure enjoyment of the present moment (who am i to talk, i’m literally the biggest overthinker-)

Anyway, i’m tired, silly, have a lot to say, get morally outraged way too easily and dream bigger than what’s healthy (according to professionals, aka everyone)

DREAM BIG FOLKS, don’t let this mess of a world steal this private and sickeningly beautiful part of yourselves

Anyhoooo i adore anyone who’s reading this, don’t shy away from saying hi!!! Promise i don’t bite (well-)

[incubotwriting]

14 Sleepless Nights

Inspired by the work of @1-800-daylon

Chapter 1

The wind blew cold and sharp, kicking up snow and dropping the nearby visibility to near zero. Bardon trudged through the ice, whipping around at the roars he heard that seemed to come from every direction of the white haze around him. His long white-gold hair whipped around, tangling in the wind and frequently blocking his eyeline, his light outfit completely hiding his silhouette in the icy void.

Vibrant colour blasts of Divine Energy lit up pure white mist, Bardon’s only link to his squad mates as they fought against the Miramon pack they had stumbled upon.

He called out, trying to find a direction to someone, anyone, to regroup and reassess, but his voice was lost in the roar of the swirling wind. He was completely separated, lost in the howling noise. His arm ached, the cold metal of its housing biting against his skin in the frost.

A roar right behind him was the only warning he got. Bardon swivelled on his feet and instinctively pulled his mechanical left arm above him to block the incoming strike, but felt it disregard his commands. Sluggish and stuttering, straining against the chill, the arm raised to the intended location right as a stone claw loomed from the void. Bardon desperately tried to fire his shield, forcing as much Divine Energy into the arm as he could muster.

The translucent golden shield started to grow out from the lens on the back of his forearm before sputtering in and out of existence and finally shorting out completely.

The claw came crashing down on his arm, heavy living stone crushing through the stressed steel with ease. Bardon felt a shot of pain through the arm as its sensors topped off and then were crushed one by one.

The metal arm was ripped from its socket, sprawling uselessly onto the ice in thousands of tiny fragments. Bardon dropped to his knees, a single thought running through his mind.

“Chalmers is gonna kill me.”

“You did WHAT?”

Chalmers’ voice travelled through the cluttered workshop, even more busy for the multiple people that now occupied it.

Bardon winced, sheepishly explaining the situation. Not that Chalmers could have missed what had happened, with the mechanical socket attached to his shoulder conspicuously lacking the arm that was supposed to be there.

“Most people start with ‘are you alright’ first” Lin Xiao mused, dropping a heavy bundle of blankets on Chalmer’s workbench with a thunderous clatter. There was a metallic rustling from within the bundle as whatever was wrapped inside shifted and settled.

“I ASSUMED he was fine considering you came to my workshop and not the Infirmary” Chalmers snipped back.

Lin Xiao crossed her powerful arms defensively. Normally the two of them were fast friends, but today she was here on Union business as Bardon’s commander, and the status in the room had a way of temporarily tempering friendships.

Chalmers pulled open the blankets on his desk to reveal the utterly obliterated remains of Bardon’s mechanical arm. The prothesis was in fist sized pieces, with wire, leaking fluid and dust from shattered circuit boards making a mess of the rags it was bundled in.

“We were doing a string of missions out near the frozen wastes, and it wasn’t dealing with the cold well…” Bardon started meekly.

Chalmers pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Please don’t tell me you got it serviced by an Utgard mechanic” he said.

Bardon and Lin Xiao looked at each other.

“We only asked them to swap out the coolant for a non-freezing type…” Bardon started.

Chalmers sighed loudly.

“You’re lucky it’s not filled with vodka” he said. “So what did it do? Slow down? Divine Energy spike?”

“Stutter glitch…right as a Miramon came down on me.” Bardon confirmed, apologetically. “The shield failed and, well. I tried to scoop up everything I could…”

Chalmers looked up from examining a handful of scrap to see Bardon’s distraught face and Lin Xiao’s pointed glare. He sighed.

“It’s just an arm. Better it than you. You did good to try and get it back, but this is properly fucked, we’re going to have to rebuild it from scratch”.

“I figured you were going to say that” Lin Xiao interjected “So I went ahead and booked you for two weeks. Authorisation from Raven should be in your inbox.”

“Two weeks?” Chalmers replied, confused “A bit lush for a fab and a refit”.

“If you were just building him the SAME arm” Lin Xiao said with a smirk. “Upstairs are starting to get a little nervous about one of their star Espers rocking an unreliable antique.”

Chalmers looked at her. He had been complaining about the Mk 1 arm for months in their Friday night drinks. He had droned on and on about how the platform was basically hacked together and almost impossible to work with for all the engineers its design had passed through, not to mention the sheer amount of tech-debt he had to wade through.

“Bardon here’s been forced to take 2 weeks sick leave to help you with R&D” She continued. “Think you can do it?”

"I kind of had plans this week…" Chalmers began

"No you didn't" Lin Xiao interupted, with the playfulness of a best friend. Chalmers shrugged. That was mostly true, and besides, this opportunity intrigued him.

Chalmers looked between them, his mind alighted. Gears turned in his brain as he rapidly started checklisting everything that would need to be done, designed, even invented for a full platform refresh. He started pacing, tapping a broken piece of Bardon’s old arm against his palm. After a few minutes of deliberation he looked back at them and delivered his verdict:

“Maybe.” he said. “But it’s not going to be fun.”

Chapter 2

“The alloy is lighter while being more durable, the servos are now top of the line and it’s got a better compute core that lets us triple the polling rate from all the nerve endings compared to your old one. Still haven't got it hooked up to a divine wave capacitor yet, let’s make it work as an arm first before we make it work as a power station.” Chalmers rattled off, his voice husky from weariness.

It had been two days since their project began, and Chalmers hadn’t slept a wink.

‘Not until we have a proof of concept’ he’d said at the time, but predictably his proof of concept had refused to play ball. First the servos burnt themselves out. Then the arm responded perfectly when puppeteered by a game controller but refused to be controlled by a neural wave emulator. In one memorable case it just caught fire. But problem by problem, Chalmers persevered with dwindling patience, energy, and sanity.

Finally, at the end of the second long day, Bardon stood shirtless as he always did when receiving arm care, with a skeletal and clearly unfinished metal arm attached to the socket at his shoulder. Despite its fragile and sinewy appearance, Bardon articulated it with surprising organic dexterity. He opened and closed the spindly fingers of the prototype experimentally.

“Well that’s a good start” Chalmers said, ducking and weaving around the various power-providing and diagnostic cables that anchored Bardon to the room to settle back at his worktable. He rolled through page after page of diagnostic readouts to make sure the prototype was running stably.

“Even only half made I can’t tell you how much easier this is to work with” Chalmers mumbled to himself, pressing buttons in his control software he never had the luxury of building before.

“So, how does it feel?”

Bardon rolled his shoulders back, attempting a handful of stretches that his tethering allowed. Chalmers watched, taking note of the way his exposed pectorals and shoulder muscles moved. He could just picture the gigabytes of sensor data running from the wired nerve endings around his shoulder into the multiple interlocking systems of the arm. He didn’t need to picture it, he thought, he’d made a control panel for it. Perhaps it was his weary eyes not wanting to refocus, but he didn’t feel much of a pull to look away.

“It’s Silent!” Bardon exclaimed “And so smooth, you even fixed the steppy problem around the thumb!”

Despite the sleep fighting him at the edges of his eyes, Chalmers couldn’t help but feel a deep satisfaction from the review. That sticking thumb problem had been bothering him for months. Quietly, he was immensely proud of his work, even in the prototype stage.

“If there’s any other feedback or information you have, say so, we need to get it perfect before we can move on.” He said, rubbing his eyes. Bardon clenched the metal fist and unclenched it, deep in thought.

“There’s one thing…” He began.

Chalmer’s satisfaction rapidly flipped to the usual mild dread he felt when he could sense a nitpick coming down the pipe.

“There’s a lag somewhere, I can’t tell where exactly…there’s just something off kilter.”

Well, that was helpful.

Chalmers grabbed a purple stress ball with a smiley face on it and pegged it forcefully across the room at Bardon. Without even thinking Bardon raised the skeletal prototype up and snatched the ball out of the air, eyes widening in surprise.

“Seems fine to me” Chalmers said, dryly.

Bardon blushed “I mean it though, it’s not very much but you asked for any information I had…”

Chalmers felt a small twinge inside of himself. Perhaps that was dismissive.

“Ok. If there’s something there it’s clearly tiny. We need a way to quantify this.” He leant back in his chair, his mind lost to wires and signal flows.

“Do you want this back?” Bardon asked, pointing at the stress ball still held firmly in his mechanised grasp.

“No.” Chalmers replied stiffly, opening his eyes and beginning to busy himself in the menus of his worktable’s oscilloscope.

“But it’s kind of cute…” Bardon began, transferring the purple sphere to his other hand and giving it an experimental squeeze.

“Stewart gave it to me when he came in to get his watch serviced” Chalmers said half-heartedly, wholly focused on detangling a mess of wires from his drawer “…told me I needed to lighten up. I think he thought he was being funny. Sit.”

Failing to find an empty surface in the cluttered workshop and still tethered close to Chalmer’s workbench, Bardon simply pocketed the ball and complied with the request, sitting in the worn swivel chair Chalmers had just vacated and rolled over to him.

Chalmers picked up a pair of headphones from his desk, wired to a battered and heavily modded music player and gave them to Bardon, who took them with an inquisitive look.

“Tap each of your fingers in time to the music.” Chalmers said, pulling up an unopened box of components and sitting on it across from Bardon. “Just your fingers on the table, use as little movement as possible.”

He quickly checked the song on the player as Bardon pulled the headphones on. It would do, he thought to himself as he hit play. He heard the music bleed through the open eared heaphones as Bardon began to listen. He watched him close his eyes and bob his head the tiniest amount as he began to tap. Chalmers put his hand flat next to the prototype tapping on the table, hoping to use the vibration of the table to assist his hearing.

…..TAP..tap…tap…tap…..TAP..tap…tap…tap…..TAP

There it was, clear as day, yet almost impossible to catch. Each downbeat was occurring a fraction of a second too late. Chalmers’ eyes lit up. He began to excitedly clip wires to test points on the prototype, hungrily on the hunt for the issue. Bardon briefly stopped his tapping, opening his eyes at the motion, but Chalmers gestured for him to keep going.

The oscilloscope flicked to life as it started to receive signals from the wires, dancing in chaotic noise until Chalmers brought it into line with button press. His face turned to an involuntary smile as he saw one of the waveforms drift slightly out of step with the others.

“Hah, got you bastard.” Chalmers said to the glitch, leaning over Bardon as he probed different test pads, chasing the delayed signal through the wires like a bloodhound.

“It’s coming in clean from the socket, stays in sync past the elbow but then lags in getting to the second digit servo…” Chalmers spoke rapidly, using his words to sift through his own swirling thoughts.

“…so it’s not a software issue because each finger shares the same rotation function, then it has to be something in the…oh I’m an IDIOT the index finger trace is longer because I wrapped it around that capacitor…oh that’s dumb why would I…what?”

He paused as he caught Bardon’s face. There was something wistful about the look the man was giving him. Bardon blinked, gently shaking himself.

“Oh, it’s nothing it’s just…Your…uh, your music. It’s really good.”

Chalmers glanced down at the headphones, now resting uselessly on Bardon’s neck, pushing a gentle beat into the air against Bardon’s exposed clavicle.

“Uh…thanks. Those cans are really good for it. Not that fancy, but they’ve got the same drivers as the expensive ones, just lose the wireless stuff, but who needs that anyway. Not to mention they've got a really good sound stage for games and all that”

The very same headphones tried admirably to fill the silence.

“Right. So. Long trace.”

Chalmers worked in silence as he fished a soldering iron from the mess on his workbench, effortlessly bridging two points near the prototype’s wrist with a shorter bodge wire.

“Better?” He asked as Bardon experimentally wiggled his skeletal fingers. Bardon’s face broke into a trademark wide beam.

“Perfect!” he said, pleased.

“Great. I’ll adjust that for the next revision tomorrow. I think that’s all we can do today.”

Chalmers reached into the prototype’s shoulder and released a hidden latch, detaching Bardon from the prototype and its umbilical wires. Bardon rose and offered the swivel chair back to Chalmers, who sunk into it, already distracted by the challenge of re-routing the index finger circuit but also fighting against a mind that begged for sleep. He tabbed into his already open designer tool.

“See you tomorrow” he called wearily into the room.

He heard Bardon’s footsteps head towards the door, engrossed as he was in his design. However, as he heard the door to his workshop open, the small twinge entered his stomach again.

“Bardon?” He called, looking up to see Bardon stop at the door, halfway through pulling a jacket over his bare chest.

“…I’m sorry if I was dismissive earlier that was…not intentional.”

Bardon looked confused before breaking back into a smile, this time not his usual readily available beam, but something a little softer and somehow even warmer. He pulled the stress ball out of his pocket and effortlessly launched it back across the room into one of Chalmer’s unsuspecting hands.

“See you tomorrow. Please get some sleep” he said, with a last lingering look back.

Chapter 3

“…So I give this guy the service manual and he just looks at it with the most fear in his eyes I’ve ever seen in a mechanic, I might as well have given him a bomb to defuse” Bardon described, animatedly.

“Well, divine wave tech, You kinda did” Chalmers mumbled through the side of his mouth

The two sat on the floor of the workshop, Bardon stripped to the waist as usual, with Chalmers kneeling next to him, working on the socket at Bardon’s shoulder. Between a particularly warm day and a morning spent arm-deep in greasy mechanics, Chalmers had discarded his long coat and shirt for the tanktop he wore underneath, his brown skin marred by dark oil and sweat.

Bardon continued to talk excitedly as Chalmers worked. What had started as a simple service and the installation of some minor upgrades had turned into an in-depth repair as Chalmers had discovered several stress faults in the socket from the old arm being ripped from it. Chalmers held a handful of screws in his mouth as he methodically checked and replaced the various connection points and bearings that allowed any prosthetic attached to it to function properly.

He let Bardon talk, his own mouth full of hardware as it was, though he had become exceptionally adept at uttering the phrase ‘piece of shit’ through a clamped jaw.

Perhaps it was the latent joy of seeing a project come together, but there was something very calming about sitting here with Bardon, performing this maintenance.

The work wasn’t difficult, but it was methodical and required a substantial amount of Chalmers’ focus. He could feel his mind slow in these moments, not having the room for the cacophony of design and troubleshooting that usually filled his thoughts. He was half listening to Bardon's stories, more enjoying the tone and presence of his voice than the actual content.

With a strong twist, Chalmers tightened the final screw in Bardon's shoulder, locking it in.

"Well, now that THAT diversion is over and done with…" Chalmers said, pulling himself heavily off the floor. Bardon sprung to his feet too, trying to admire the work done in a nearby mirror that Chalmers had put up for exactly that purpose

"Oh, it's not going to be particularly sexy" Chalmers called back to him. "Routine stuff and parts swaps."

"Those are probably very important though!" Bardon replied enthusiastically. "And it's a good thing my best mechanic is on it."

"I'm you're only mechanic"

"So it's good that you're the best!"

Chalmers scoffed. "Your positivity is exhausting. Kidding. I'm kidding" he hastily appended when he caught the look on Bardon's face. He ushered Bardon over to his table, where the prototype lay on a stand.

It was still intimidating and skeletal, but since the beginning of the week it had been slowly freed of all the power and resource lines that had tied it to the lab. Instead, a large clear component sat at the shoulder.

"So that's the power bit?" Bardon asked, forgetting Chalmers' previous attempts to explain it to him.

Chalmers nodded, patiently. "Brand new Divine Wave capacitor design" he confirmed. Powers the mechanics of the arm from your natural resonance. Turns you into a big battery. Do you want to give it a go?"

Bardon's eyes lit up, his smile lighting up the room as answer. The two positioned themselves, Bardon lowering himself to let the arm align with the socket without much lifting, and Chalmers readied himself to make the connection.

They caught eachother's eyes, as they had with this manoeuvre so many times before, and nodded. Chalmers lifted the arm and felt it magnetise to the socket.

"Nerves." he warned and Bardon tensed himself. Chalmers twisted the arm and felt it lock in place. A static hum ran through the arm as hundreds of intricate components came online. The clear crystalline capacitor started to glow a gentle gold as it took up the task of converting off-cast divine resonance into electrical power. Bardon grimaced, feeling emulated nerve endings and sensory responses reawaken. A small shiver ran through his visible chest muscles as his brain adjusted to the mental load of controlling the extra limb.

"That part didn't get any easier" Bardon said, good spiritedly but with a wry chord.

"Yeah. Sorry." Chalmers replied

"You're giving me a whole new arm, I'm hardly complaining" Bardon's smile had returned in full force and he lifted the arm off the stand, moving it gingerly, but definitely moving it.

Despite himself, Chalmers found himself smiling too, watching Bardon slowly gain more and more confidence with the prototype, and watching it transform from a tool attached to him to a part of him, seamlessly following the natural movement of his body.

"Alright" Chalmers prompted, "Let's try pushing some more Divine Energy through it. Slowly."

Bardon nodded and clenched his new robotic fist. The capacitor began to glow brighter and brighter, the gentle gold turning into a piercing yellow light that sent trails of light coursing through the creases and crevices of the arm. The aperture on the back of Bardon's forearm blinked into life, sparking with golden holographic wisps.

"Come on…" Chalmers encouraged "Come on, you bastard. Give it more, Bardon."

Bardon nodded and tensed harder, except for his hand which he opened in a claw-like hold. All the light pouring from the prototype brightened and brightened, almost becoming blinding. Golden sparks jumped between Bardon's new skeletal fingers as the divine power surged.

Something was very wrong.

Chalmers looked up from his eyeline at Bardon's hand and caught sight of the exposed capacitor. From this angle he saw a hairline fracture in the glassy surface that in his tiredness he had missed. Chalmer's eyes widened and he yelled out, reaching out a hand…

There was a deafening cracking sound and the capacitor shattered. The arm malfunctioned immediately, the hand clamping shut around Chalmer's outstretched wrist. The servos in the rest of the arm surged, pulling Chalmers to his knees painfully by the hold. Chalmers resisted with his arm, doing anything to stop it from twisting any further, but his own creation was overpowering him, forcing him to the ground.

Bardon yelped, clearly no longer in control of the limb, and tried to help pulling it back to no avail. Chalmers tried to babble the locations of the safety disconnects, but he was in too much pain. He grunted, only adding to the panicked look on Bardon's face.

"I'm going to try something, but I need to let go of the arm" Bardon announced with a surprisingly cool authority. "When I say, push back as hard as you can."

Chalmers had no other option but to nod at the command. Bardon gave the signal and Chalmers put every ounce of strength he had into resisting the twist of the arm. Bardon released his hold on the metal wrist, before raising his good arm in a fist. He took several deep, pointed breaths and braced himself before bringing it down with immense force on the narrow joint at the arm's wrist.

The joint sparked and one of the metal bones split as the hand instantly fell limp. Bardon followed Chalmers to his knees and went to scream, but immediately cut himself short when he realised something he expected wasn't coming. They knelt facing eachother, breathing heavily. Chalmers cradled his wrist, released from the iron grip

"It didn't hurt" Bardon timidly realised aloud

"I disabled pain emulation, the code wasn't done yet…" Chalmers said before something crossed his mind "…how did you know that?"

Bardon shook his head.

"I didn't."

They held for a moment before Chalmers came to his senses and reached for the emergency release. The prototype unlatched and fell to the floor with a thunk, a handful of exposed components snapping off as it hit the ground.

Chalmers picked it up off the floor with his good arm, swearing profusely as he went. He threw the prototype roughly against his workbench, where it hit with a frightening crash, before collapsing into his chair and sinking his head into his hands. His wrist was burning red hot and his prototype lay in tatters in front of him.

Bardon quietly approached, looking at the wreck of metal.

"Is it bad?" He asked.

"What do you THINK, Bardon?" Chalmers snapped.

Bardon recoiled, deep concern etched into his face.

"I'm going to need to start most of the hardware from scratch, that's IF my Godsdamn hand is usable at all."

Head still in hand, Chalmers didn't notice the deep guilt sinking into Bardon's expression

"Look, just, take a few days" Chalmers fumed "I've got work to do."

Bardon didn't need to be told twice. Chalmers didn't watch as Bardon fled the workshop, not even stopping to put his jacket on.

Chapter 4

By the end of the first week, Chalmer’s wrist was still too swollen to do any meaningful work, so he allowed himself the luxury of his usual Friday night drinking date. The dingy bar was perfect for shooting the shit, and the barely dressed tigress he sat with was an excellent complaining partner.

The two of them sat at the wooden bar countertop at their favourite spots that the bartender knew to leave open for them. The lights were moody and the cramped room was made even denser by the tacky and multitudinous posters, photos and boxing paraphernalia littering the walls. ‘Unpretentious,’ as Lin Xiao described it frequently.

It took the better part of an hour for Chalmers to bring Lin Xiao up to speed with how the first week had gone. He talked about the all-nighters at the start and the incalculable numbers of advancements, breakthroughs, and regressions he’d made. He talked about the prototype, and how it now lay broken nearly clean in two, showing off his now painfully swollen wrist which Union Medical had assured him was only sprained.

"And you're not upset about, yknow, the whole snapping the arm thing." She asked.

"Why would I be?" Chalmers replied with genuine confusion "It was my dumb fucking mistake"

“So let me get this straight” Lin Xiao said as their second round was placed in front of them. “Our man has a polycarbosomething alloysomething malfunctioning on the end of his shoulder, got you in a full-on wristlock, and so the first thing he does is snap his own wrist before asking you if the pain receptors were on yet?”

Chalmers nodded, taking an exploratory sip of the new pint.

“Metal.” She said approvingly. “That’s the dumb hero shit I’m told I have to tell him off for.”

“Yeah, well it was certainly a change of pace for me” Chalmers admitted. “Like, he’s loud, sure, but I dunno. Guess he never shows that larger than life side of himself when he’s in for repairs.”

Lin Xiao looked at him with a mixture of amusement and interest at this new information.

“I get it, you need that big hero energy to do Union face work, but he always seemed kinda timid to me. Shy or something. So seeing that superhero streak was new” he concluded.

“Oh, man you don’t know the half of it” Lin Xiao scoffed.

Chalmers raised an eyebrow.

“So a few days ago I was sent out to mediate this disturbance in Union HQ, right…” Lin Xiao began, in her all-to familiar work story tone, “…Bardon has got himself into a proper scene with two jackoffs who were talking shit about you, funnily enough.”

Chalmers looked over from his pint.

“Me? What’s somebody's problem with me?” he wondered aloud.

“Dunno, something about you being a bit of a weird grouchy shut-in or some bullshit” Lin Xiao shrugged.

“Oh, is that all?” Chalmers scoffed “Are they even wrong?”

“Well Bardon seemed to think so. Got himself into a hell of a shouting match with these guys. Had to cool him off before he got into a one-armed fistfight.”

Chalmers frowned into his beer.

“What could possibly drive him to make such a scene, I don’t need defending.”

“Oh, you haven’t worked it out” Lin Xiao exclaimed amusedly.

“Worked out what?” Chalmers asked, heatedly, as Lin Xiao laughed openly at his expense.

“You smart people are always so STUPID” She wheezed, racked by belly laughs

“Lin, what don’t I know” Chalmers demanded, intensely disliking the joke at his expense.

“Nah, you’re gonna have to sort this shit out on your own. That’s what you do isn’t it? Troubleshoot the problem? Trace the wires? Figure it all out?”

Confused and put out, Chalmers settled for drowning his angst in his pint.

“I’m surprised you just let the guys be, I’ve never known you to show restraint” he said, trying to move on from the joke he wasn’t getting as Lin Xiao regained control over herself.

“Oh, I beat the shit out of them as soon as golden boy was out of earshot” Lin Xiao grinned “Couldn’t do it while he was there, didn’t want him getting all mopey for your sessions.”

---

The sun was setting as the two parted, and instead of his apartment, Chalmers found his way back to his workshop. He settled himself in as evening turned to night, and night turned into quietest hours of early morning. His checklist sat in front of him, taunting and paralysing him. Small problems flowed and combined in his mind into giant walls that he could find no crack or foothold in.

The light outside his workshop had faded into darkness long ago, but Chalmers had barely noticed, his powered swivel lamp the only concession to the passage of time.

He was technically listening to music, but his concentration jumped between intense focus and the very edge of sleep so quickly that he often caught himself sitting and thinking in complete silence as a playlist ended.

Lin Xiao’s friendly taunts still clung in his mind. His understanding had not progressed an inch, but it provided an easy mental detour that his thoughts slipped into when he lost his train of thought on an electrical or mechanical problem.

Chalmers ripped out a page of useless trigonometry from his notebook, not even giving it the dignity of a toss to the wastepaper bin, and he was once again faced with the imposing emptiness of a blank gridded page.

He sighed and sunk his head into his hands, mind both racing and somehow completely and painfully still. He emerged from his palms just to be faced with the taunting silhouette of the prototype, barely built up from the initial rounds of testing; skeletal, technical, fragile, broken, and scary beyond belief. His wrist gave a painful twinge in agreement.

It simply wouldn’t do, he thought. An image of Bardon flashed through his mind, how inspiring and comforting the common folk must find that smile, the shining demeanour and booming voice that Chalmers had only heard of second hand.

Chalmers’ hand moved without him, sketching out the silhouette of an arm. With each stroke his hand added the crossbars, the connection points, the synthetic muscle, the rivets, the wires. The diagram formed itself from raw muscle memory, countless technical traps and compromises effortlessly avoided, aesthetic aiding function with the elegance his masterwork deserved.

Chalmers finally arrived at the shoulder, detailing the circular cutout for the divine wave capacitor and stopped. He saw the circular void and exposed machinery and fragile components filled in the space in his mind’s eye.

His pencil paused. He knew the components that should go in there, but they didn’t seem right. He thought of the bright, flowing hair, those eyes and smile, and his pencil found a different path, carving precise arcs across the shoulder until a sun motif adorned the shoulder, protecting the socket and naked mechanical intricacies underneath.

Chalmers blinked, the full diagram in front of him. It was beautiful, genius even. And yet, even now, it didn’t seem complete.

He placed an exploratory stroke off the arm from the shoulder. Upper Trapezius, supplied by the accessory nerve, connected to the socket at neural link port 7001 through 8080. More lines. Clavicle, secondary anchor point for the main housing. Pectoralis major, driven by the medial and lateral pectoral nerves, port 8100 through 9000. Latissimus dorsi. Obliques. The shapes of Bardon’s physiology came effortlessly to him, intrinsically tied to and indeed the host and purpose of his work.

He sketched, and sketched, well beyond the realm of anatomy he knew and into what he didn’t realise he’d noticed. He sketched how the tiniest bit of rib poked above Bardon’s abdomen line, the barely visible abdominals that showed proud when he tensed or laughed, the frankly unfair amount of oblique that showed above his waistline, the deep grooves of his clavicle and neck, the proud jaw, the long hair, the piercing eyes…

Chalmers slammed his notebook shut with a deafening thud. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears in the silent night. All notions of sleep were dismissed from him in an instant as he was left with an uncomfortable, dawning realisation.

“…Shit.” He said into the empty, dimly lit room.

Chapter 5

“So, am I getting my two favourite boys back next week or am I playing the grocery lady again?”

Lin Xiao burst into the workshop with a clatter of clinking bottles and rustling paper, unceremonially dropping the bags of snacks and beer at the door. This meeting was technically in the Union calendar as a ‘progress check,’ but hearing that Chalmers was going to have to spend another evening in the workshop, Li Xiao had coopted the time to steal back their usual Friday night drink.

Chalmers looked up from his soldering station and a smile crept to the corners of his mouth.

“Come and see for yourself” he said, stepping aside to reveal a stunning creation of alloy and synthetic weave. The Mk 2 version of the arm was laid out like a half-finished jigsaw on a stand, fine plates of polished metal sitting amongst intricate circuits and components, all waiting to be assembled into a work of art.

The divine wave capacitor sat quiet at the shoulder, waiting for the golden energy that would see it spring to life, protected by layers upon layers of spiralling motifs, laid out like stylised sunbeams radiating out from the sleeping core.

Lin Xiao rocked up to it, hands behind her back just in case, as Chalmers went to rifle through the bags she brought. He started splitting out the things that would need to go into the minuscule bar fridge under his desk as Lin Xiao let out a long whistle.

“My man, you’ve outdone yourself” she called back to him taking in the microscopic detail and care evident in every centimetre of circuit board, wire and plated alloy.

“Still a bit to go, but all the dev work is done” Chalmers said, pulling glass bottles held together with cardboard out of the paper bags. “And thanks for this, genuinely…” he began, before fishing a solitary dark bottle from the final bag.

“…though I’m not really a porter guy.”

“Oh, I know” said Lin Xiao, refusing to elaborate and still examining the Mk 2 with immense interest. Chalmers just shrugged and started to take everything to the fridge.

“So have you tried it on the man himself yet?” Lin Xiao asked, stealing a beer bottle from Chalmers as he walked past and successfully twisting open the distinctly non-twist top lid.

Chalmers made a fuss of bending down and stocking the fridge to buy himself a moment of thinking time. Truthfully, he hadn’t seen Bardon since the malfunction last week. In fairness, he hadn’t told Bardon when he could work on the sprained wrist again, but Bardon also hadn’t asked. Perfectly fine, he told himself, it’s probably why it came together so quickly. His wrist twinged as a beer bottle weighed it down.

“Don’t need to. All the experimental stuff we got out of the way in the prototype” He justified out loud. “Everything else is just boilerplate, linear upgrades and miniaturisation.”

“Mhm” Lin Xiao responded, taking a swig of her beer, clearly unconvinced.

“And besides, he probably wants to actually do something with his time off” Chalmers continued.

“Probably.” Lin Xiao replied.

The two shared a moment of silence, drinking deeply from their bottles.

“So did you figure out your little puzzle yet?” Lin Xiao asked, breaking the stillness by setting down her beer.

Chalmers rapped his fingertips against his own beer, sending a pinging noise into the workshop. He had. In his moments away from his project he could think of little else.

“…Bardon likes me, doesn’t he?” He asked, despite knowing the answer.

Lin Xiao gave a thunderous clap paired with a deafening holler. “See! I told you you’d get there eventually!”

There was an aggressive rolling noise as Chalmers stood up. He needed to do something with his hands. Anything.

“…well?” Lin Xiao asked, arms held out questioningly.

“Well what.” Chalmers responded flatly, mashing the temperature control on his soldering iron, and reaching for a pair of magnifying goggles.

“What do you think about it?” she asked, encouragingly.

“I think he’s loud. I think he’s always bursting in, getting his tech busted up by being an idiot, I think I’ve had to pull multiple all-nighters for him just this week…”

“Yeah, but do you like him though?” Lin Xiao interrupted.

Chalmers fell silent.

Lin Xiao looked up at him, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

“Oh you doooooo” she growled.

“I do NOT” Chalmers retorted, far too quickly.

“Oh, you REALLY like him” Lin Xiao shot back, immense joy in her voice.

Chalmers refused to respond, busying himself in trying to locate his tube of solder flux.

“So you know he likes you, and you like him…” Lin Xiao continued “…so you just go up him, say ‘thinking about your ripped bod has been keeping me up at night’ and then all that’s left is to pick who starts taking the fibre supplements”

Chalmers dropped his soldering iron, cheeks burning.

“This is extremely un-commander-like behaviour from you.” He said, attempting to cool the iron before it marked his table.

“What good am I as a commander if I can't get my boys laid?”

“I’m not on your squad.”

“Wasn’t talking about you, buttercup.”

“Look, it’s not that simple” Chalmers said, attempting to distract himself in the task of seating a miniscule ribbon cable.

Lin Xiao leant her elbow heavily on Chalmers’ desk, resting her cheek on a powerful fist, looking up at him, eyebrows raised. Chalmers swore as the impact knocked the cable clean out of the socket it was just about to be fastened into.

“Enlighten me.” She demanded. Chalmers pulled off his magnifying goggles and stood up from his chair to face her.

“I don’t…I just don’t DO people and relationships, Lin.” He said. The sincere chord in his voice caused the mirth to falter in Lin Xiao’s face.

“I’ve never… no one’s ever…” He started. Chalmers didn’t have the words for this.

“Look. I don't know what interesting or fantastical version of me Bardon’s cooked up in his head, but I can guarantee the real thing isn’t nearly as interesting.”

Lin Xiao looked at him seriously, the wisdom of her age showing for a rare moment on her face.

“I don’t know WHAT he’s seen in me, but it would be cruel to lead him on and force him to figure out for himself that whatever funny or interesting or special version of me he’s imagined just isn’t there.”

Silence filled the workshop once more.

“Bet you a round you’re wrong.” Lin Xiao said, unusually gently.

Chalmers sunk back into his chair, sending it gently rolling backwards from the momentum. Lin Xiao downed her beer and started gathering her things.

“Lin…please. Don’t say anything to him.”

She walked over to him and planted a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Alright. I won’t say anything, but I think you should.”

She gave his shoulder a bone crushing squeeze before bouncing back to her usual heightened energy.

“Right, you better get cracking so you can actually get a day off” she said, cheekily before bounding her way to the door. With her hand on the door handle she stopped and turned back, a large accusatory finger pointed at Chalmers.

“But listen here, loverboy, if I don’t get a report on my desk that you two got caught sharing a metal handy somewhere you’re not supposed to I’m going to be VERY disappointed in the both of you.”

Chapter 6

Chalmers rapped at the apartment door, standing awkwardly in the unfamiliar hallway. He had considered calling Bardon back to his workshop, but legitimately didn't think he'd be able to make the call.

He heard a shuffling from inside the aparment and sure enough Bardon opened the door. His eyes went wide with surprise when he saw Chalmers standing there.

Chalmers had clearly caught Bardon unaware, he was dressed in a pair of leg hugging teal trackpants and a loose white-beige tank top that didn't cover any of the shining metal socket that replaced his left shoulder. In many ways he resembled a looser version of Chalmers himself, who had stopped bothering with the jacket and overshirt several days ago and stood across from him in his grey singlet and dark cargo pants

"Hi." Chalmers said "…Hi." Bardon said back, the spitting image of an embarrassed bird hitting a window pane "I er, sorry I didn't phone ahead but…" He raised the long carrying case he held "…She's ready"

Bardon looked from Chalmers, to the case and back again, before at long last breaking into his smile and gesturing for Chalmers to come in.

He was lead into the small apartment and placed down on the couch. Chalmers sat and took in the unfamiliar premesis, trying to acclimatise himself to the unfamiliar surroundings.

"It's done! That's amazing! After the wrist and the protoype and everything I thought…"

There was a ceramic clattering as Bardon hastily dumped a collection of plates and mugs into an unseen sink. He needn't have bothered, Chalmers thought, this place was infinitely cleaner than any space he had ever curated

"Yeah" Chalmers called out "The wrist was just sprained, I got back to work that weekend and the rest came together pretty quick."

"Oh! Oh well that's a relief!" Bardon replied with the plastic creaking of packaging being stuffed in a bin.

Relief? thought Chalmers. Had Bardon been worried?

Chalmers was finally able to take in enough of the space to notice what Bardon had clearly been doing. In front of him on the coffee table sat a game controller, modified for single handed use, with a foot pedal tucked underneath. The paused game in front of him was familiar, no, more than familiar.

It was a fantasy game, tough as nails and released exactly two weeks ago. The very same game Chalmers would have been playing if Bardon hadn't broken his arm. In a moment of sudden realisation, it made sense to Chalmers why Bardon could notice a finger response delay in the order of milliseconds.

"I didn't realise you were a fan of this series" Chalmers said to Bardon, who had deposited a glass of water in front of him before shuffling back to the kitchen and returning with a second.

"Oh! yeah! It was just kind of lucky I guess, lined right up." Bardon sat next to Chalmers with the glass.

"I wasn't going to get this one after getting stuck on an optional boss in the first one but…"

"Oh HER" Chalmers couldn't help himself. "Yeah, bullshit design, there's a weapon in the area before that she's weak to but it's basically impossible to find if you're not reading the item descriptions and…what?"

Bardon was looking at Chalmers with a mixture of aghast surprise and elation.

"What? I'm old" Chalmers said back, his cheeks warming "All the kids like arcades now. Too many people."

"Not great with accessibility either…" Bardon agreed before blushing and breaking eye contact.

For the first time in his life, Chalmers sat in an incredibly strange position. He was used to people having more information and understanding than him and making him blunder through a social encounter blindly. However, just this once, in a strange way he held all the cards.

He was a troubleshooter, built to observe strange symptoms and connect them to systems, and for just a moment, that instinct fired for the man in front of him.

He knew for a fact Bardon liked him, and armed with that knowledge he started seeing symptoms. He saw how Bardon was trying to shuffle closer but also how he seemed scared to approach. He saw the unusually tight grip on the water glass and the eyes that flicked from his his face, to the opening of his singlet, to absolutely anywhere that wasn't him. It seemed all so obvious now.

"So, shall we?" he asked, tapping the hard travel case, and Bardon nodded enthusiastically. They cleared off the coffee table and placed the case on top. Chalmers gestured to Bardon to do the honours. He unclipped the latches on the case, then carefully with Chalmers' help lifted the lid.

The completed Mk 2 could only be described as a work of art. The polished alloy gave wave to dark, textured synthetic muscle. reinforcement bands criss-crossed across the upper arm before descending to a solid metal gauntlet with interlocking facing at the elbow. Up at the shoulder, the Divine wave capacitor sat crystal clear and dark, protected by a sprawling collection of curving sun rays that spiralled outwards to cover the entire shoulder

"It's… I mean It's…" Bardon was speechless, his eyes practically sparkling.

"Yeah." Said Chalmers.

"You designed it after me" Bardon continued, quietly

"Well, the underlying tech could be generalised but…yeah, this one's for you."

Bardon's eyes were damp and his body was filled with tension. It was if he wanted to do something, but was doing everything to hold himself back.

"Well, come on, let's get it on you" Chalmers said.

A flash of fear crossed Bardon's face.

"I'm not going to break it again, am I?" he asked, nervously

"Again? What do you mean again?" Chalmers asked, eyebrows raised

"Oh, I thought I…that you…nevermind!" Bardon stammered, before collecting himself with a breath.

For a moment, Chalmers' mind went back to the day of the malfunction and his gut sank. He thought about his anger at himself, his frustration that he made no attempt to direct, and then he thought about what that might have looked like to someone who liked him.

Had Bardon blamed himself? Had he thought that Chalmers was angry at him? Had he thought he'd blown his chance? Was that why he hadn't checked back in? Guilt? Fear?

He had to stop that feeling. He wasn't going to be able to sit by passively this time. He was going to need to make the effort. Make a choice. Reach out.

"Hey." Chalmers said, putting a hand on Bardon's bare shoulder, unsure in his actions and words but trying anyway. "It'll be fine this time, trust me."

Bardon's shoulder was warm against his hand as he looked back up and him. Chalmers was subject to that beautiful blue gaze, the soft features yet strong jaw. Chalmers' heart leapt

He likes you. The only one standing in the way is you

Chalmers helped Bardon remove his tank top and he knelt next to the coffee table, Chalmers took a chance to observe the physique that he knew on a systematic level. His heart leapt again.

You hold all the cards. You just have to say yes

Chalmers lifted the Mk 2 from its case and felt it magnetise to the perfectly maintained housing.

"Nerves" He warned, and Bardon braced.

All it takes is for you to play your hand

Click. Locked. Bardon grimaced, but then blinked in surprise. He slowly stood up, marvelling at the sculpture attached to his shoulder as he slowly twisted the wrist and opened and closed the fingers.

"You figured out the nerves" Bardon said, aghast.

"…Yeah." Chalmers replied. "It's not perfect, I don't think it can be, but it now slowly connects the nerves down the arm rather than crashing them all on. I don't know why the standard is to do them all at once, probably some backwards compatibility thing, It just really sucked seeing it hurt you all those ti-"

Chalmers couldn't finish because he was locked in a tight double armed hug. He could feel everywhere Bardon's bare skin came in contact with his own. The hug barely lasted a moment before Bardon broke it, putting a cautionary space between them

"But how can I be sure it won't hurt you again?" Bardon asked

It was time for Chalmers to do something for once.

Chalmers reached out and guided the textured black hand of the Mk 2, laying it at the center of his chest, just above the low cut of his singlet. He took his hands away and Bardon held it there, the sensitive weave passing the feeling of Chalmers' bare skin to Bardon.

"Trust me." Chalmers said.

Bardon's eyes were wide, and slowly, ever so slowly he moved the Mk 2 across Chalmers' chest. The weave felt rougher than skin, and the divine waves powering it gave the fingertips a fuzzy, almost gentle static feel. Chalmers' breathing caught in his throat as the hand touched him, the first time anyone had touched him in a long time.

Bardon's breathing was also heavy from the flood of ever so slightly different and enhanced sensations the arm was passing to him. Hundreds of tuned sensory inputs fired to life for the first time, and the very first thing they would feel would be their creator.

The arm's movement got more natural as the hand wandered, and by the time it found its way under Chalmers' singlet to meet with its brother and raise the singlet over Chalmers' head, it was no longer the Mk 2, a work of mechnical genius made under 2 weeks of near constant toil and stress.

It was simply Bardon's arm.

Epilogue

Chalmers slept soundly for the first time in two weeks, hells, even longer that night. He was woken well past his operational start time by an email to his communicator. It was from Raven, granting him an extra week of his and Bardon's time to complete the Mk 2 at Lin Xiao's request.

The two lay there, at a complete loss of what to do.

"If it's alright…" Chalmers said to his bedmate "…I think I'd like to give this…" He gestured to the two of them and the world at large "…Y'know, people, a go. If you'll help me take it slow."

Bardon blinked, slightly baffled by the request, but flashed his warm smile anyway.

"Yknow, if you've got nowhere to be…" Bardon began, cautiously, trying to piece together Chalmers' meaning "You could hang out here for a while."

Despite his revelation not 30 seconds ago, Chalmers felt an instinctive twist in his stomach at the suggestion. He forced it down. He needed to try.

"I'd like that" He said, feeling the knot tighten, but then release as he committed.

"Actually, I suppose you haven't had a chance to look at the new game yet…" Bardon raised, thoughtfully.

And so, Chalmers found himself in someone else's room, with someone else's system, sitting on someone else's couch in his underwear with Bardon lying next to him in not even that. Bardon had put the Mk 2 aside for the moment so that Chalmers didn't have to rest on it, and he guided Chalmers through the opening levels.

Chalmers played abysmally, Distracted by the parts of Bardon's anatomy that he wasn't yet familiar with, but was eager to learn.

As morning shifted to afternoon, the two found themselves in a similar state, but in the relaxation Chalmers mind drifted to something incongruous, something that had escaped his attention all this time.

Chalmers reached over to his bag, left abandoned since yesterday and rummaged around. He had thought the two might have shared a celebratory beer together after successfully testing the arm, but naturally plans had rapidly changed. He distinctly remembered clearing out the last two beers from his mini fridge and sure enough when he fished in his bag he pulled out a single bottle of his own favourite cider, and the lone dark bottle.

She didn't.

"Here." Chalmers said to Bardon, handing over the bottle "I have a hunch this might be your speed"

Bardon looked at the bottle and smiled wide in disbelief.

"Oh! Porters are my favourite!" he said, eagerly taking the bottle "How did you-"

She did.

"Like I said. A hunch" Chalmers said, making a mental note that the next time he saw Lin Xiao, he owed her a round for a bet he spectacularly lost.

[belltari]

Happy (early) Halloween!!

I finished editing this today but I couldn't wait until Halloween to post it so here it is, an EXTREMELY self indulgent ghoap sex-in-the-closet Halloween fic.

If you're under 18, you shouldn't be reading it.

warnings & tags: plot with porn (a halloween party, its what the boys deserve), terrible dad jokes, flirty banter, established relationship (I'm imagining that it's still new, like only Price knows and Gaz is putting the pieces together), some dom!ghost tones (nothing too dominant), pleasure dom!Simon (that man just wants Johnny to feel good), public sex (it's a blowjob in a closet), face rutting, cum eating, someone gets called a "good boy" a couple of times

it's about 3 thousand-ish words

This was my first time writing something this explicit, so please keep in mind that I have a lot to learn. The other writers in the cod fandom are excellent teachers and inspire me a great deal.

If you just want to read the porn, start reading after the ' -- '

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and have a great rest of your spooky season!

Approaching the mess hall, Johnny chuckles at the purple and orange 'Happy Halloween!' banner hanging above the doorway, it's very clearly homemade with streaky paint and clumpy glitter making up the words and what looks like an old, tattered tarp as the banner. He wonders if it was a team-building exercise for the recruits, as this whole party was a mixer for them to get to know each other better.

Paper party streamers act as a curtain on the wide doorframe, blocking Johnny's view of the interior of the mess hall, he can feel the bass of the music thumping in his chest and hear cheerful laughter from the other side. Pushing the curtain aside, he steps through to see the short corridor has been decorated. Plastic bats with light-up red eyes hang on strings from the ceiling, jack-o'-lantern string lights flickering along the walls accompanied with signs with sayings like "enter if you dare" and "turn back" written on them. When he gets to the end, he surveys the now-repurposed dining hall, more streamers, banners, and cheap plastic decorations decorate the room. The lights have been turned off and the windows covered, floodlights and spotlights covered with coloured transparent pieces of plastic are the only lights illuminating the room creating a dramatic scene.

Several tables are being used as pumpkin carving stations, one of the recruits is ripping the guts out and complaining about the smell, and another is stabbing their pumpkin with a hunting knife. Gaz is there, dressed as a vampire with a long cape and plastic fangs in his mouth, to supervise. He's laughing with them telling them they need to work on their techniques a bit more when he catches Soap's eye giving him a smile and a quick wave, he returns the gesture and continues scanning the room.

He turns to where the music is coming from, tables cleared from the corner creating a makeshift dancefloor. Recruits dressed as ghouls, goblins, witches, and all sorts of different costumes grind and dance together to the music, drinks in hand, and smiles on their faces. 'No better team bonding than getting absolutely shit-faced together' Soap thinks to himself with a grin across his face. He notices Price standing with a group of other captains and lieutenants, he's got a glass of whiskey in one hand and is using the other to help animate whatever story he's got everyone laughing at. Price is dressed in a tri-corn hat with a tall feather sticking out of the side and a knee-length red coat with gold adornments on the sleeves and lapels. 'Gotta be Captain Morgan' Soap smiles, shaking his head. Price notices him, giving Soap a smile and a quick nod which Soap returns.

Finally, he spots the man he was looking for, his broad back facing away from him. Soap approaches walking up to grab a drink next to Ghost. He has his balaclava rolled up to his nose, a half-eaten cupcake in one hand, and a plate of other confections in the other. "Thought you'd put a little more effort in L.T.." Soap says as twists open the bottle of beer he's picked up and turns to smile at Ghost.

Ghost is wearing his normal skull balaclava and skeletal gloves, but his 'costume' has the addition of a hoodie with the skeletal system of a torso and arms.

"Didn’t put much effort in 'cause my heart just wasn’t in it." Ghost response points to his chest where his heart would be.

 Soap snorts. "Bet you've been waiting to say that all night."

"Gotta 'nother one for ya."

"Go on then."

"Why are skeletons so calm?" He pauses. "Because nothing gets under their skin."

"Ugh please no more." Soap says in a playful tone shaking his head.

"What are you supposed to be then?" Ghost asks, pointing to Soap while eating the rest of his cupcake.

"Thought it was obvious? The fluffy tail and ears, the roguishly good looks?" Soap pauses, looking at Ghost with a wolfish grin. "C'mon Ghost, I thought you were good at this?"

Ghost eyes rake over Soap’s form. Starting at his furry-eared headband, then down to his bright red collar around his neck. He pauses there for a second, Soap can see his Adam’s apple bob under his balaclava, before continuing further down to his distressed dress shirt that he’s left open at the top exposing his chest, he’s half tucked in his shirt to his jeans that he often wears on ops, the ones that hug his hips and thighs just right. And between his legs, a dark furry tail hangs ending just above his knees.

"Oh, I see you're one of those yappy little lap dogs."

"Oh aye. I'm very territorial and I never shut up. Watch your ankles L.T., I always go for those." Soap says stepping closer to Ghost. He looks down at the collar he's wearing, lifting his eyes back up, over Johnny's chin, to his smirking lips then setting on his bright blue eyes.

"Hmm" Ghost hums. "And is he a good boy too?" He said as he bites into a ghost-shaped sugar cookie.

"Depends on who's giving the orders, sir." Soap looks up through his lashes at Ghost, taking a swig of his drink.

Ghost looks around to make sure no one is paying any mind to them. When he's sure no one is, he hooks a finger under the collar pulling Soap even closer. He then leans into Soap's ear and whispers "Be a good boy then and go to the utility closet, lock the door, and don't open it until you hear three knocks of a beating heart." He doesn't wait for Johnny to respond before pulling away and walking over to Price, where Gaz has now joined him at the other end of the room.

Soap takes a deep breath, downing the rest of his drink, and grabs another one before joining the rest of 141.

When he approaches, Gaz is in the middle of telling Price about the pumpkin carving recruits and their 'interesting' techniques. But Soap's not listening, he's watching Ghost eat another cookie, licking the crumbs from the corner of his lip, laughing at something Price had said.

Soap's face gets hot, he downs a couple mouthfuls of his beer to try and cool down. "You good, Soap?" Gaz asks smiling at him.

"Aye, but this beer isn't. Has to be the weakest thing I've ever drank."

"It's probably a lot better than at piss tequila you drink." Ghost jokes.

"Think I'll go find ya some then LT. Maybe I can get you to come round to it." Soap winks at Ghost and turns to leave, only to be stopped by another captain holding a camera. "Group shot for the books, boys?" She asks. Soap looks over his shoulder at Price as he answers "Alright, come on then," waving the boys closer.

Price throws his arms over Gaz and Ghost's shoulders, Ghost rolls his balaclava back down over his jaw and Soap takes his place on the end next to him, snaking an arm around his back placing his hand on Ghost's waist.

"Say 'Happy Halloween!" The captain says as she readies to take the picture. Soap throws up the peace sign and the boys say the words the captain wanted when the camera flashes.

She comes over to show them the picture, they all look happy, even Ghost looks like he's smiling under his mask. They deserve a break like this after their last op. They move apart and Soap tells them he is going to find that drink for Ghost and excuses himself.

"Ma'am, could I get a copy of that picture?" Soap taps the captain with the camera on her shoulder on his way out. "Of course, hun! I'll make sure to give Price a few extra copies once I get them printed."

"Cheers!" Soap says raising his bottle in response "Enjoy the rest of your night."

"You too!" She says, giving a short wave to Soap.

'Oh, I will.' Soap thinks as he makes his way out of the mess hall and into the corridor leading to the utility closet Ghost wants him to wait in. He walks as fast as he can without looking suspicious, a tightness growing in his stomach and a heart wanting to break free of his ribs in excited anticipation of what's to come.

Rounding a corner, he meets a group of recruits.

"Leaving the party already Sarg?"

"Don't cha worry I'll be back, I'm only out looking for a little something stronger to drink." Soap responds with a wink as he walks backward down the hall coming to a corner. "You lads better get back there, don't want the captain to catch you out here." He turns the corner, hearing the recruits retreating footsteps as he approaches the utility closet door.

When he's standing in front of the door, he grips the handle, checking both ends of the hallway to make sure he won't be seen entering. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he opens the door and steps inside, reaching to his left to flick on the light and shutting the door behind him locking himself in.

--

He waits for what feels like ages. He finished the last of his drink a while ago and is now pacing around the small room.

"The things I do for this man." Soap signs. "This is ridiculous, what am I even doing in here?"

He checks his watch, 20 minutes have passed.

He's been waiting in a closet for Ghosts for twenty minutes.

"Oh, I'm so making you pay for this LT." He leans against the wall, readjusting his headband to distract him from the tightness in his pants that has been there for the last 15 minutes.

'Fuck it' he thinks, 'I'm not waiting any longer.' He reaches to palm himself through his jeans, moaning at the feeling of finally being touched. His briefs are wet with precum and creating a slick surface that his cock twitches against earning another sign from him. He reaches into his shirt to grab his nipple when a knock from the door startles him.

Knock-knock

Knock-knock

Knock-knock

Soap takes two long strides to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open. Ghost pushes his way in, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Jesus Simon, I thought you were going to make me wait here all night," Johnny says moving to stand chest to chest with Simon. He places one hand on Simon's waist and moves his other to take off Simon's mask.

Simon grabs his wrist and moves away. "Thought you were being a good boy? Think you need to learn some patience."

"My patience ran out 15 minutes ago." Johnny groans, freeing his wrist and ripping Simon’s mask off, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him. His hair is an absolute mess, sticking up in all directions and a smirk is plaster across his face, he's looking down at Johnny hungerly.

Johnny smashes his lips onto Simon's in a desperate sloppy kiss, tongue and saliva pushing into Simon's mouth. A moan escapes Johnny. Simon reaches one of his hands up to the back of Johnny's head, caressing his nape first then gripping the back of his mohawk to deepen the kiss.

Johnny pulls away breathing hard when Simon's other hand touches his cock through his jeans. "Fuuuuck" he moans into Simon's neck, placing several open-mouthed kisses there and bringing his hands to wrap around Simon's broad back grabbing fist fulls of his hoodie.

Johnny ruts against Simon's hand earning a chuckle from Simon, "Desperation looks good on you, Johnny."

"Can think of a couple other things that might look even better."

Simon pulls away from Johnny, placing a hand on his chest pushing him away, "Stay." He says as looks down at him with half-lidded eyes. His gaze wanders down Johnny's face to the collar he wears on his neck, then to his chest that heaves in excitement, shirt half unbuttoned showing off his well-defined pecs that are covered in dark hair. Simon takes his hand and brushes Johnny's shirt where he knows his nipple sits underneath, drawing a shutter out of him. He smiles, looking up to Johnny's eyes that are already staring back at him. Simon looks down to see Johnny has clenched his fists that hang by his sides and sees that he's straining against his jeans, a wet spot has formed where the head of his cock has been twitching, wishing to be free from the confines of his jeans.

"You gonna me show how good you are?" He asks Johnny.

"Simon, please I-"

Simon walks Johnny backward until his back meets the shelf full of cleaning supplies behind them, shaking when they collide with it. Simon goes to plant a kiss on Johnny's mouth when Johnny tries to meet him halfway, "Ah-ah, I said stay" he scolds as he grabs Johnny's jaw with a firm grip. He places a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, then on the scar on his chin, and then one more on the pulse on his neck, he can feel it racing under his lips.

He suddenly pulls away and crouches down to settle on his knees in front of Johnny. Simon reaches for Johnny's belt unbuckling it, he unbuttons his jeans pulling them and his boxer briefs halfway down his thighs in one fluid motion, letting Johnny's cock spring free in front of his face.

A string of precum hangs from the half-covered head of his cock, creating a string that connects to the inside of his briefs. It twitches and another pearl forms under Simon's gaze. The pearl drops to the floor when Simon's gloved hand connects with his shaft, slowly moving his foreskin back to reveal his glistening, swollen head.

"Ahh, fuck" Johnny sighs, throwing his head back to smack against the self with a bang, knocking over a couple of the bottles.

"Careful, Johnny. Need to stay quiet, don't want anyone finding us do ya?" Simon teases as he starts lazily stroking his cock. He gets a hiss from Johnny, as he slides his gloved hand down his shaft to the base, creating a rough sensation for Johnny.

Simon's hand slides back up to his leaking head, thumb going to Johnny's frenulum drawing agonizingly slow circles on it. Simon looks up at Johnny to see his face contorted in pleasure with the overstimulation he's causing and that his headband has been knocked out of place. He brings his other hand to grip Johnny's balls, pulling them down gently. Johnny's chest heaves in when he releases a heavy breath, his hand shooting out to grip the edge of the shelf he's leaning on, his other hand hovering over Simon's head, hesitating to grip his hair. He looks down to Simon for permission, to which Simon responds by releasing his hand from Johnny's cock and catching it on his tongue.

"Yer gonna kill me." He breathes, getting a open-mouthed grin out of Simon. He wraps his lips around him before sucking on his head, flicking his tongue on the underside.

"Simon." Johnny warns.

Simon sinks his whole cock into his mouth, nose pushing into Johnny's pubic bone, a burning feeling in the back of his throat. He sticks his tongue out to caress his balls while he starts messaging them with his hand. Drool drops into his palm helping ease the rough feeling of his glove for Johnny. He slides Johnny's cock out of his mouth to take a deep breath.

"Think yer enjoying this more than me." Johnny chuckles at Simon looking down at the saliva dripping from his wet lips. Simon only looks up at him in response before pulling his cock back into his mouth, sucking and bobbing up and down his cock with a relentless pace this time. He never breaks eye contact with Johnny as he starts playing with his balls and moving his forefinger to brush against his taint. This makes Johnny buck forward deep into Simon's mouth and grip his own pec, wanting to place pressure on his nipple. Simon pulls Johnny's hand away, ripping his shirt open making a couple of the buttons fly free. He finds Johnny's nipple and pinches. Hard.

"I'm- I’m gunna-!" Johnny pants out. Bucking forward once again, pushing his cock farther down Simon’s throat, making his eyes water.

Simon can feel him twitching and pulsing inside his throat. He pulls his head away quickly just as Johnny starts to come, he tastes it briefly on his tongue before releasing his cock with a pop and feels Johnny's cum land on his face. One release squirts up his cheek stopping on his cheekbone and another across the bridge of his nose just missing his eye. More oozes out as Johnny grips the sides of Simon’s head to rut through his orgasm, rubbing and grinding his cock against Simon's face, his balls slapping against his jaw with a wet sticky sound. Simon closes one of his eyes as Johnny’s cock gets dangerously close to it, even more cum is leaking out of the tip as Johnny overstimulates himself. When he stops, he's breathing hard and hunching over, shaking from his orgasm, his cock jumps against the bridge of Simon’s nose. The cum pooled there drips down his face and over his chin, dripping onto his neck and disappearing under his shirt.

"Good boy." Simon says as he pats Johnny's thigh.

"Lemme be even better than,” he says, as he unsteadily crouches down in front of Simon, “and help clean you up." He sticks his tongue out, licking the cum off Simon’s neck, trailing up to his chin, then up and over his cheek. After he's collected it all in his mouth he kisses Simon, holding eye contact when he pushes it into his mouth with his tongue, smiling when he accepts it. Johnny pulls away, looking very impressed with himself, a string of saliva connects them and Simon swallows what he’s given him. Wiping his mouth with the back of this hand, Simon stands them both up, pulling Johnny's pants up, tucking him back in his briefs, and making his best attempt to fix his shirt.

Johnny places an arm around Simon's neck pulling him into a sweet tender kiss. "Let's get you sorted then." He smiles into Simon's lips, he reaches underneath his hoodie to brush along Simon’s abdomen, running his fingers through his happy trail, flattening his hand to slide into the top of his cargo pants.

Simon pulls away slightly, reaching up to fix Johnny’s fluffy-eared headband. "You know I don't need that."

"I know" he pauses "but I want too," Johnny whispers into his cheek. "I'll come to your room later. This time you'll have to wait for me." He smirks looking up at him.

"I'll be waiting." Simon kisses Johnny one last time, then steps out of his reach, picking up his discarded mask from the floor and slipping it over his head back into place. He grabs Soap's long-forgotten empty bottle and says, "Wait five minutes before leaving, yeah?"

"I know, Ghost. This isn't my first time." He smiles.

"And remember that piss tequila you were supposed to be findin'."

"You won't be callin' it that by the end of the night."

"Mmm, I doubt that." Ghost opens the door quietly to listen for anyone outside, when he hears nothing, he looks back at Soap over his shoulder and nods a 'see you' then steps out closing the door behind him.

Soap takes in a deep breath. 'Think I gotta start wearing a collar more often.' He thinks. 'Maybe I should start wearing the throat mic again?'

[it-was-funeral-grey]

Realisations in mess (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Masterlist Part 5 Part 6

Summary: you're finally home! But what is this mess? clean up + cooking with alhaitham basically

Warnings: vulgarities, trashed up house (matra's fault), reader's ankle is sprained, cleaning up, alhaitham spewing out absolute bs, they eat an onion lol (no joke i was far gone when i wrote that part), sword,

Word count: <3.4k

Inspired by:-

Author's note: im learning how to make gifs! also im not sure if its obvious, but this is gonna be a 'slowburn' type of story!

Thank you everyone for your comments and encouragement! I can;t thank you all enough!

as usual i hope this is ok i tried

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Her house is a fucking mess.

Al Haitham can try, but he can't recall what her house looks like. But he knows it's not supposed to look like this.

Archons, what the hell did the Matra do? 

He doesn't stop her when she unslings her arm from around him. Instead, he holds the door open as she hobbles into her living room. He hears her let out a defeated sigh, but when she turns around to face him, she smiles.

"Well, at least I'll have something to do this afternoon," she looks around with pursed lips. "Been thinking of rearranging stuff anyway!"

Her cheerful tone doesn't fool him. It's as clear as day that she's beyond upset at the state of her home.

"You're...going to clean up this mess on your own?" she can't be serious. The place is completely trashed (is that...Harra Spice on the floor?). "Just you. With your sprained ankle." 

"Well, you did see the looks that the neighbours gave me," no, he didn't. He was focusing on other things. Like making sure she leans her weight on him, not her ankle. "I should probably keep to myself for now," she replies, her eyes downcast. "Hopefully, whatever rumours about me will die out soon." 

With that, she squats down, picking up a book off the floor. 

Huh, now that he thinks about it, there are a lot of books here (and yes, that's definitely Harra Spice on the floor.). And no, not notebooks or record books. Actual books- look, there's a book on languages over there and a thick book about Liyue Adeptuses right next to it. Al Haitham has never seen another house with this many books (apart from his own). In fact, most of her living room floor is covered in them, ripped from their bookshelves which lay not too far away from them. 

It must have taken her years to collect this many books. He's impressed that she managed to keep them all hidden all this time.

"I'll be fine, really," her voice strains as she reaches for another book. "Thank you for helping me back! And for everything else." 

Al Haitham's moving before he knows it. One second he's standing up, looking down at her picking up her books. The next, he's dropping his overnight bag and squatting down, grabbing her book for her.

"Oh! Thank you."

"You need to rest your ankle," Al Haitham states, reaching over to take the book already in her hands. "Stand up." 

Moving over to her, he gestures for her to sling an arm over him before standing up with her.

"There's no way you're going to be able to clean up this mess," he unslings her hand gently before walking over to her overturned couch. "I'll help."

"Ah! It's fine," she hobbles over to him, but he's already flipped her couch over. "You must be busy. I can-"

"It's lunchtime now. Everyone's on break." 

"Then you should be taking a break too!"

"I've already done so on the boat."

"Well, what about your lunch? I didn't see you eat anything."

"I had a heavy breakfast."

"That's not lunch."

"Sit down and rest your ankle."

"Hey! Did you hear what I just said?"

Despite your protests, you're grateful you won't have to clean up this mess alone.

"How do you arrange your books?" Al Haitham asks as he lifts your last toppled bookshelf back upright. "By topic? Height?" He then shoots you a wary glance. "…Colour?"

"Topic, then by height," you reply, feeling slightly useless as you sit on the couch with a newly bandaged ankle (courtesy of Al Haitham). "Wait, colour? Do people do that?"

"You'll be surprised," he chuckles, and you see his shoulders relax. "There exists a certain individual that insists on making it their personal mission to convince others to arrange their bookshelves that way purely 'for the aesthetic'," he picks up a red book off the floor, running a hand over the slightly dented cover. "You have a lot of books here."

"Do… you find it strange?" you ask meekly. You wouldn't be surprised if he did. Hardly anyone in Sumeru used books, much less kept them thanks to the (recently abolished) Personal Book Act. This wouldn't be the first time a visitor judges you about it.

"Not at all," Al Haitham replies, flipping through the book gently. "I'm just surprised that you read," he stops at a folded page. "Almost no one reads in Sumeru. Not even Akademiya scholars. All they relied on was the Akasha terminals."

He balances the book in a hand and shuts it.

"I'm impressed that you managed to get your hands on this many. The Akademiya doesn't print any books. And there aren't any bookstores in Sumeru."

He passes the red book to you, and you swear his lips curve upwards for a fraction of a second.

"It's well written, but the author gives no evidence to back up his hypothesis. It's pure speculation on his part."

"You've read this before?"

"It's a title in the House of Daena," he explains, bending down to pick up another book and reading its title. "Although it's better off as a storybook."

"The House of Daena has books about Liyue?" you ask. The book in your hands is a Liyue publication which took you many pains to obtain. If there's an easier way to get access to such books-

"Definitely," he seems intrigued by your enthusiasm. "Many darshans' studies involve learning about other cultures and regions. So, books on such topics would be provided. Although whether the students want to read them is a different story."

So they'll have books about Liyue Law! You haven't been able to get your hands on any thus far.

He picks up a few more books off the floor and places them on a bookshelf nearest to him.

"You have a lot of books on Law. And Liyue."

"Ah! Yeah," his observation shocks you back into reality. "I…actually wanted to study in Liyue's Law School."

"Wanted?"

"Well, you know," he turns to look at you, and you look away. You know you won't be able to control the disappointment written all over your face if you talk about this. "Times aren't exactly the best now. Money is tight right now, with inflation and all. So…"

"I see."

"Yeah," you sigh and quickly plaster a smile, as you turn back to him. "But it's alright. I can still read about it! There are many more books in the House of Daena, so I'll borrow them!"

"…You can only borrow books if you're a student or teacher at the Akademiya."

"Oh."

It takes Al Haitham about an hour to finally get all the books off the ground and into a somewhat orderly manner. The floor is much more empty now, save for shards of glass and foodstuff amongst overturned furniture. Al Haitham knows that the Matra are thorough in their investigations, but wrecking a house to such an extent in search of evidence is seriously going overboard.

He's going to have a long talk with the Matra stationed at Port Ormos when he gets there.

"Here?" Al Haitham asks the lady standing next to him. She's insisted on helping, against his protests. Eventually, they came to a compromise- he'll carry and arrange the books, and she'll point out where to put everything.

"Yep! These few are fine- ok, switch those two," she instructs. "Everything else is in order. Thank you!"

"Where's the broom?" Al Haitham asks, kicking a shard of glass away from her. "There's glass everywhere."

"It must be the bottle of Harra Spice I bought," she hobbles past the dining table over to the kitchen, Al Haitham following closely behind her. "I bought some groceries the day before I got arrested. I left it on the dining table and… forgot to unpack it."

She didn't forget. Al Haitham takes the opportunity to quickly pick up the chairs and push them under the table, which she thanks him for. She was taking care of me and didn't have the time to put it away.

They both ignore the splinters of wood that fall out when he moves the chairs.

"I'm sorry about this whole mess," Al Haitham sighs. It doesn't matter how he tries to reason with himself. No matter what, this whole situation is his fault. And it leaves a really bad taste in his mouth that she's the one paying the price for it. "I'll be sure to pay for whatever damages there are."

"None of this is your fault," she quickly retorts, grabbing the broom's handle…which immediately detaches from the broom's head. "And like I said," she reaches for the broom head, but Al Haitham beats her to it, taking the handle from her as well. "I've been thinking about rearranging the place anyway!"

Yeah. Rearranging, not refurbishing. Past her shoulder, he sees the wrecked kitchen. And shards of broken tableware among other objects sprinkled all over the floor. She's going to need to replace a lot of things.

"Still, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you-"

"If you really want to make it up to me, take care of yourself and don't faint in front of a random person's house again!"

"I'll do my best."

"Is…that a yes or a no?" her head tilts as she frowns, eyeing him puzzledly. "And wait! Do your best to not do that or to do that?"

And out of nowhere, Al Haitham feels the sudden urge to 'push it', as Kaveh call it. Just to see how she'll react. For research purposes.

"Celestia wills the movement of the mountain and hills." he recites an old rhyme while observing her increasingly perplexed expression with great interest. The rhyme was just his grandmother's way of saying that no one knew what the future held- except fate.

"…what?"

"May the stars align your wish alongside their plans."

"???"

The good news is that cleaning your kitchen didn't take very long. The bad news is that you pretty much have to buy a new set of almost everything for your kitchen.

No, you're not joking. All you could do was grab things off the floor and counter and throw them into the bin. It hadn't taken long for you to realise that the Matra had destroyed almost everything, save for your stove and sink, a dented, but still usable pot, a single onion and a small bottle of oil.

Nothing else was spared. Not your tableware. Not your bottles of sauce. Not any of your newly bought ingredients. And most definitely not your bottle of Harra spice.

"This should be the last of it," Al Haitham re-enters the kitchen with a fully filled dustpan. "You need any help in here?"

"No, I'm done here," you groan. The Matra had destroyed all your groceries for the week. Do you even have enough Mora to buy food again this week? "Squeaky clean!"

"…and empty."

"Don't remind me," you grumble, sitting on the counter. "How did they break so many plates? It's not even fragile! It's made of wood!"

"A hidden ability of overzealous and bored Matra, I suppose," Al Haitham says as he dumps the contents of the dustpan into your overflowing bin. "Is there anything else?"

"No, just my room. I'll settle that myself," you answer. Rubbing at your bandaged ankle, you sigh, leaning your head against the overhead cabinet. "Thank you for your help, really. I wouldn't have been able to clean this all on my own."

"It's no problem. How does your ankle feel?"

"It's alright. Doesn't hurt too much."

"That's good. Elevate it when you can."

"I will."

A peaceful silence washes over the two of you as you finally get some rest after cleaning the entire house. But all that's interrupted when your stomach suddenly rumbles.

Oh, Archons. 

"I…I'm so sorry."

"Well, it is a little bit past lunchtime. How are you settling lunch?"

"I have an onion."

"Sorry?"

"I have oil too."

"You're going to eat an onion?"

"I gotta," you grip the onion in your hands. "But all my knives are broken, so I can't dice it."

"Can't you go out to buy some ingredients?" Al Haitham looks a little concerned. "You don't need to eat the onion."

"The only person who sells groceries these days is Bahram," you begin peeling the onion. "But he closes shop early. He should be closed right now."

"So, how are you planning on eating this…onion?"

"I'll try to fry it."

"You're just going to toss that whole sphere of onion onto a pan?"

"Well, I don't have a pan anymore so I'll use my pot," you grab your pot and place it over the stove. "Hopefully, it won't roll out."

"Now, hold on. Don't do that."

"I mean the other alternative is eating it raw, but-"

"Use this."

"Hm?" you pour some oil into the pot before turning to him. "What the he-"

"Calm down. You're going to spill the oil onto the floor."

"Where did that come from?!"

"From me."

Before you is a beautiful green blade, rounded by a white and gold spine. A majestic aura surrounds it- as if it belongs to a higher being. It almost looks too holy to touch.

"Here. Use it to dice the onion."

HUH.

"Waitjustholdonasecond," your words jumble as you struggle to understand his request. "You want me to take your fancy blade and use it to cut the onion?"

"Yes," he pushes the blade further towards you. "Go on."

"You can't be serious. I can't do that to your sword!"

"If it's hygiene you're worried about, I assure you that-"

"No, it's not that!" honestly, it kind of scares you how hygiene isn't your main concern here. "Your sword! I can't cut an onion with your sword! What if I break it?"

"If my sword breaks from cutting an onion, I wouldn't carry it around."

"You carry it around? Where? I didn't see- ok, I'm going off-topic," you sigh. "Are you sure I can use it? It looks really expensive and I don't wanna, uh, desecrate it."

"It's a sword. It's meant for cutting things," he takes the onion from you and slices it into two before handing it over to you. "You're using it as intended. I don't see the problem."

"If you say so…" he lets the blade go into your hands, and you jerk at the sudden weight. "Oh- Archons, how do you carry this?"

"You alright there?"

"Yep, yep, I- I'll be fine!"

Your onions end up more chunky than usual, but you'll take it. You heat up the oil (after trying to squeeze out every last drop of oil from the small bottle) and gently add in the onions later. The sounds of sizzling oil fill the kitchen, and you happily take in the scent emitting from the pot. After a while, you feel that it's time to stir it around so you-

Wait. How are you gonna stir it?

"Uh oh," you grab the handle of the pot, tilting it from one end to the other. But it's no use. The onions aren't flipping over. "Oh no."

"Hm?"

"I forgot I don't have a spatula. I can't flip it."

"Use the sword."

"I- fine. Use the sword."

The final product looks better than you expected. Golden brown onions lay on top of each other inside the pot and your mouth waters at the sight.

"You'll have to wait till the pot cools down a little," Al Haitham cautions as he places the pot on the dining table. "Or else you'll burn your hand when you reach in for a slice."

"Haha, no."

"Hey! What did I just say-"

You really can't help yourself. You're too hungry. Reaching into the pipping hot pot, you pinch a piece of onion and quickly toss it into your mouth.

"Ah- hwot-"

"Unbelievable."

"Take- a slice!" you say between blowing out hot air. "It tastes pretty good! Must be the fancy sword flavour."

"I'll take one when it cools down a little. So I don't burn my fingers and the roof of my mouth."

"Suit yourself."

And the two of you fall into another cycle of silence- this time only interrupted by the sound of you blowing out hot air and Al Haitham scoffing at the display before him. Eventually, the pot cools down, and he takes up your offer and grabs a piece.

"What do you think? Pretty good, right?"

"It's good."

"That's all you have to say about the onions your sword painstakingly chopped?" you hold your chest in fake shock. "How dare you, good sir!"

"Well, my sword seems happy enough," he plays along, reaching a hand out. In an instant, the blade materialises. "I don't see any dissatisfaction from it."

"Woah!"

And then the blade disappears. And his hand is again as empty as your kitchen is.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what? Keep my sword?"

"Yeah! And make it reappear!"

"Well…"

The rest of your meal is spent happily chatting and making the poor man materialise and keep his blade over, and over again.

As selfish as it sounds, you don't want him to go. Because the moment he does, you'll be alone in Vimara Village, with nothing but rumours to keep you company.

But he has a job to do- an important one, at that. He's Sumeru's Acting Grand Sage. He's not a friend.

"I think it's about time I take my leave," he finally says, snapping you out of your train of thought. Standing up from his shaky chair, he grabs his overnight bag. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Not at all," you reply, slowly standing from your chair as well. "I'm sorry that I couldn't host you under better circumstances."

"Would you happen to know where a certain Dilawar lives?" he asks. "I was told that he lives here."

Ah, so that's why he's here.

"Mr Dilawar lives not too far from here. Just head upwards from here and stop at the second house from the bridge," you answer. "Are… you here to fix Port Ormos?"

"Yes," he replies. "The closure of the port is not a problem I can ignore. Discussing the current state and future of the port with the trade supervisors is a crucial step in fixing the problem."

"Well, if you're on the case, then there's nothing for us common folk to worry about," you let out a relieved sigh. "With you as the Acting Grand Sage, Sumeru is in good hands."

"…Thank you."

You walk him to your front door, and he pauses outside for a moment to look back at you.

"Make sure to rest your ankle."

"I will."

"Keep a look out for any shards of glass on the floor. I may have missed them."

"I highly doubt that, but alright."

"And," he pauses again, looking over at your bookshelves. "Don't give up hope on going to Law school."

"Eh?"

"You must have taken a lot of effort to collect and read through all those books," he says. "It'd be a pity if all that effort went to waste."

He stands a little straighter, looking you in the eye this time.

"This is a temporary issue. Don't let something like that ruin a lifetime of fulfilment."

With that, he turns around.

"Well then, see you."

"Ah! Yeah, see you."

And he walked off.

"Well, you know," she doesn't turn away fast enough for Al Haitham to miss that crushed expression of hers. "Times aren't exactly the best now. Money is tight right now, with inflation and all. So…"

"I see."

So, it's a money issue. The reason that she's giving up her dream is because of money.

Like hell he's going to let that happen.

He'll solve it. He'll fix Sumeru's entire economy. He'll force the port open with his own two hands.

Just get that look off her face.

Join the Taglist!

Tagged: @sh3wholiv3s @simpcreator @confusedparticle @quintessentialdreaming @icedlemontea03 @levisbebe @anxious-piece-of-bread @confused-red-head

[lverscore]

narnia headcanons

topic: celebrating christmas with the pevensies.

lucy and you take charge of decking out cair paravel for christmas, using whatever materials you can find in narnia. lucy's all about that diy life, so she insists on making everything herself.

she's all about those homemade decorations, while susan is more of a store-bought kinda girl. but lucy knows exactly how to guilt trip susan into letting her do her own thing, and susan eventually caves.

lucy goes all out, making garlands out of holly and ivy, and she's a pro at painting wooden snowflakes. she turns your place into a winter wonderland with her crafty skills.

peter and edmund take on the responsibility of greeting and managing the guests, but their approaches couldn't be more different. peter is all serious and professional about it.

on the other hand, edmund can't resist the temptation of the cookie tray intended for the guests. he slyly devours the cookies, thinking he's being sneaky.

when peter catches him in the act and asks about the missing cookies, edmund playfully argues that their role was pretty dull, so he was just adding a bit of excitement by munching on the treats.

susan takes the lead in preparing the epic christmas feast, and she means business. she's like a gordan ramsay in the kitchen, all professional and intense.

she's a cooking genius, and her dishes always come out on top. but let me tell you, she's not one to mess around. if a single sprinkle dares to be out of place on a cupcake, she'll lose her cool in an instant.

with susan in charge, the christmas feast becomes a culinary masterpiece. every dish is flawlessly cooked and beautifully presented, thanks to her attention to detail and high standards. you better believe it's going to be a feast to remember!

so, after all the guests make their exit, it's gift time! and guess what? peter and the others come up with the coolest idea—a treasure hunt just for you!

they leave these cute little notes all over the place, showing their appreciation and guiding you to your present.

finally, you find your gift, wrapped in your absolute favourite colour paper. lucy's attention to detail totally pays off, making it extra special.

you rip open the wrapping with excitement, and the siblings are bursting with anticipation. and what do you find? a handmade wooden jewelry box, decked out with intricate carvings of golden leaves on the lid. talk about fancy!

as you open the box, there it is—a beautiful necklace that susan personally chose just for you. it's the perfect match for your style, and you can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

oh, and let's not forget the handwritten card from edmund. yeah, he's not big on showing affection, so that card means something. it's like a little treasure of its own, reminding you of the special bond you all share.

[preciadosbass]

13/8/24 [5x DIYS today + one package!! // key + significant photos at end.]

woke up at 10 and immediately went outside to see boris. [before taking ages to get out of bed, that is.] he was really excited to see me this morning and layed down on my shoes. i stayed outside with him for at least 30 minutes before i started getting paranoid my prevision would show up. once i got inside i got dressed into my silent hill shirt, dark cargo jorts, and various bracelets consisting of a spiked cuff, my chemical romance/sleeping with sirens/pierce the veil/panic! at the disco band bracelets, and a wooden beaded bracelet. all of which being in the colour scheme of black, white, and dark green. i love matching my outfits.

once i was done getting ready, i made a ‘key’ for my journals and added it to my intro, and started writing this. at 11:10 my dad came into my room and told me that my prevision isn’t even coming round so that’s sort of a relief. with that, i went back outside with boris for about 10 minutes until my eyesight started going weird and i could only see yellow because of how sunny it was on the driveway. upon getting inside, i had a cup of tea and asked my dad to help me out with the start of my can tab bracelet as i’m useless at following youtube tutorials.

he did the first bit of pattern until i caught up onto it and then started doing it myself. like i’ve mentioned before, i know i dont have enough tabs so it ended up being a little off the length around my wrist. which is annoying because i’m so close to it fitting but i sent my aunt a picture of my progress so she remembers to keep on collecting can tabs for me lmaoo 😭 anyway, im glad i’ve finally gotten around to doing something with tabs apart from making smaller jewellery/making diy pins as i’ve been thinking about making a bracelet for years now. i always end up collecting my own and then losing the stash. however that trinket box i made has been helping me keep track without them going anywhere and everywhere. [photos at end.]

i did what i could with the bracelet and finished at 12:20. after writing about it, i decided on starting to add the key to the end of every one of my journals. hopefully it’ll make it easier for people to understand what on earth i speak about. i went upstairs to my sisters room at 1:25 and watched her play fnaf security beach again. she got stuck with what the task was pretty quickly, so i decided to just listen while looking up every now and then and make a collage in my journal. i made one out of the leaflets from the premier inn we stayed in + the car park recipts. after finishing, i decided to make another with various other receipts from the weekend [like the receipt from my green day cd]. [photos at end] my sister got up to the part of the game where you need to find a head and use a party pass or something.

i don’t really like the second collage i made, or either of them actually, but its whatever. i stayed watching her game until 2:30 when i went outside with boris. at some point, someone pulled up on our driveway. usually when people do that, they’re looking for an assisted living home just down the road — for some reason the addresses always get messed up. but, he handed me a package. i’m just glad i wasn’t in my pyjamas. on his way back to the car, boris came up to him and he stroked him which was sweet. i called my mum to ask if the package was hers or mine and she told me to open it anyways.

it sort of felt like some kind of plushie though the packaging, but when i opened it up it was just something wrapped up very thoroughly. i ripped open the bubble wrap and saw my black parade gerard way funko pop!!! i was getting worried because technically only one of my packages from depop had come so i was relieved to receive him. i took a picture of him and then set him up beside my concert tickets because that’s where i put all of my important things. i will display him on my desk’s shelf at one point but it’s too messy at the moment and i don’t want him to get scratched or anyting along those lines.

i went back up to my sister after fussing boris outside at 2:40. i thought i was going upstairs to watch her play more five nights at freddy’s but she started showing me horror-ish game trailers. she made me pick out one for her to buy so i can watch her play it. she knows i already really want to watch her play fnaf4 so that was sort of out of the question. i couldn’t choose between this low graphic game with barely any plays or bendy and the ink machine. after somewhat picking, i went downstairs as my parents came back from an appointment/the town centre. i showed them my gerard figurine and they were shocked by the size of him loll

my dad reused the packaging from my gerard funko pop to package a few cds he was selling so me, him and my mum walked down to the post office through the woods. i only really wanted to go to get my steps up but i quickly regretting it concidered today was the day after the hottest day of the year. we snuck round the back garden door just incase boris followed us from the driveway. upon getting there, i picked out some low cal treats for myself and got my sister some sweets. on the way back home, i decided to walk back by myself the road way because i was sure it’d be quicker and less exhausting as the woods is all up and down. me and my parents split up and i got home 6 minutes before them.

once i got back i gave my sister her sweets and sat outside with boris. my vision started going weird again so i had something to drink and sat in my room for a while until my sister came down to call me up to watch her play bendy and the ink machine. i went up and watched while playing mcr + the used cover of under pressure, two songs off mcr live in valencia [nanana and vampire money] before she told me to turn it off as she doesn’t like mcr. because she’s stinky. her favourite song out of the music i listen to right now is all my life by falling in reverse so i played that and we both sang along to it. she’s starting to learn it off by heart now.

i went back down into my room at 6:30 and wrote more of this journal. i continued doing so up until 7:30 when i copied all of the journals i’ve written so far into my notes app just incase i get logged out of this or something. afterwards i posted asking whoever’s reading this right now to let me know who does/does not want to be tagged when i post [PLEASE LIKE/COMMENT EITHER ON THAT POST OR HERE SO I KNOW!!] and went outside with boris for just a minute to say hi. i didn’t plan on going in immediately but it was really cold and he opened the door himself and went inside. i fed him and then went to living room as my dad had made me a cup of tea. i sorted through a few kandi/bead inspiration photos.

then my mum and sister came back from my sister’s karate lesson. i started asking my mum about what i did yesterday as i hadn’t written anything about it until tonight. she didn’t know much as she was out for the first half of the day so i went outside in the garden to my dads shed and asked him about my day instead. i took notes and then went through them with my mum. after everything was somewhat confirmed i went into my room, put on my green day cd and wrote about yesterday.

at 9:23 i decided to make this star out of bendy wire and tiny beads. i made it in the colours of the gay flag, because that’s my flag, but mainly because i love that colour scheme. i unironically put it everywhere/generally make everything in those colours. i finished at 9:45. afterwards i got out a bottlecap and a few beads i cut off thrifted jewellery from my shed outside. i couldn’t make a hole through it so i went out to my dads hut and asked if he could. he said that he can tomorrow with his drill and also do my shells for the windcharm i’ve been planning to make. i went to check on boris and then i made a gecko out of kandi at 10. i was supposed to make his eyes black but the only black beads i have didn’t fit through the elastic i use. i’m not ecstatic over how he came out, but i don’t hate it as much as my first animal kandi attempt. [photos of diy’s at end, warning their both very funky looking.]

my cd ended at around 10:50. i’ve listened to the album before but i’ve never tracked what my favourite song off it is. id say based off listening to it today, ‘jesus of suburbia’ is my #1. i went upstairs to my parents at 11, wrote a bit of this journal, checked if boris wanted to come back inside, and actually finished asking my questions at 12. i let boris in and my mum and sister got into a huge argument afterwards so i went into the kitchen with him and shut the door to drain some of the noise out. i spoke to him for a while until he started scratching on the dishwasher which means he wants to go outside. i let him out at around 12:20 and kept on going to check if he wanted to come back inside. i checked again at 12:50 and got jumpscared by my dad trying to toast a bagel.

i continued checking while sorting through giphy to find more interest related gifs in advance for future journals up until 1 when boris came back inside. he had something to eat, came into my room, and i said goodnight to him at around the same time he came in, and finished at 2. while talking to him i showed him all of the crafts i’ve done today + my gerard funko pop. i like updating him on what i do throughout the day when i’m not with him. i went to sleep at 2:50 after figuring out the first/last name for my killjoy oc [i haven’t decided whether it’s going to be first or last name because i don’t have two yet.]

🗝️ — boris/my cat, prevision/keyworker i have to see instead of being taken back into mainstream education

have a good day/night O_o