#twas fun while it lasted however...

[melissa-titanium]

sighs deepl;y . puttingthis here bc im gonnadie if i dont put it somewhere and i dont think theyll see it but i just was in a vc with some one i know for thefirsttime in a while and they justhad to go and idk ihavent felt that sad ina W;HILE;

[sluts4matt]

Hiiiii Ik you are not Latina but you write for latinas (which I’m so thankful for btw because I can’t find many Latina reader fics as a Latina) but I wanted to ask that if you are comfortable with it and you know anything about it if you could right a fic about Latina reader dating either Chris or Matt and her introducing them to stuff like pan dulce, tres leches cake, flan, Hispanic candy and big family parties just how they would react to all of it. Again this is only if you are comfortable with it I don’t want you to feel pressured to do it at all I just really love your work so I had to ask.🫶

TRADITION

pairing: matt sturniolo x mexican!reader

summary: family get togethers happened once every year, this year you were more than happy to bring your boyfriend to share your traditions with.

warnings: swearing, fluff, small argument between reader and their cousin, kinda suggestive in the beginning, i make a small joke about white people which could set a snowflake off so 🤷‍♀️.

word count: 2074

authors note: i can't tell if i like it or if i feel like i didn't do your request justice. i'd like to say that i've never had flan myself, but like everything else i mentioned i've eaten before. (twas not made by white people)

you and matt had been dating for basically a year now. and while obviously your parents, and close family knew matt, your tía’s and tíos did not. however, this month your tía cindy was hosting a family get together.

they typically happen one time each year, each family member hosting a year. last year, your parents hosted. "i think you should come with me to my family get together," you mutter to matt, running a hand through the boy's brown locks as he laid his face on your chest.

the two of you were currently cuddled up in your bed, the babadook playing on your tv. your phone was resting on your pillow next to your head, your phone going off because of the groupchat you were in with your cousins.

"that would be cool," he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your chest. you could feel his eyes close against your skin, obviously meaning he was tired.

"i can introduce you to them as my boyfriend," you spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying not to scare him off, though a small smile was on your lips. though in reality you didn't know how you would. bro had seen you in all your naked glory, as well as seen you breakdown on many occasions.

there really was no scaring him away.

matt pulled his face from your chest, propping himself up on his elbows. the chain he wore dangling in front of your face as his blue eyes stared into your brown ones. "yeah?" he said, a teasing tone in his voice as he tilted his head.

you could feel your face heat up as you rolled your eyes, lightly pushing his face away. "don't tease me, asshat." you pout, looking away from the boy above you.

matt laughed, moving his face back down to press kisses to the top of your breast, before peppering kisses to the valley of your breasts and up to your neck. "i love you," he whispered, pecking your lips before pulling back, sitting back on his heels.

"so when is the gathering?" you snort at his response, "we're not witches matthew, this isn't a coven." you roll your eyes playfully. "mm, could be," he tilts his head.

"it's in a few weeks," you mutter, sitting up and grabbing your phone. you unlock your phone and click on the group chat, seeing what was going on. you rolled your eyes at the chaos that were your cousins.

"fun," he mumbles. "now lay back down," he states, pushing you back down. you look up at him and raise a brow. matt gives a small smile and grabs the blanket, resuming his previous position, pulling the blanket over your bodies.

he pressed small kisses to the spots his lips could reach on your boobs.

"you're such a horny bitch," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. matt hums and shakes his head, "i am not, i'm just affectionate." he mutters, looking up at you.

"mm, whatever helps you sleep at night, babe." you tease. matt nips at your skin and shakes his head.

the two of you walked hand in hand into your tías house. the foyer was big, decorated with art, that quite frankly you couldn't exactly say where she had gotten the pieces from.

"dios mío, mira cuánto has crecido desde él año," cindy gushes, walking towards you. she incapsulates you in her arms, giving you a good squeeze. "tía, esté es matt," you introduce the confused looking boy. "i've heard so much about you matthew," your tía speaks, her mexican accent thick.

she pulls the boy in for a hug, "so glad you could join us this year." before you knew it, she was dragging him towards the snacks. there had been an assortment of candies, as well as salty snacks. next to it was a drink table, which held different types of liquor for the adults, as well as juices and jarritos for the kids.

you were greeted by other family members as you followed your stolen boyfriend through the people. "tell me matthew," you heard your tío marco say, making your eyes widen as you rush over.

"tío, hi, so happy to see you," you squeak, interrupting, knowing that your tio had a nick for scaring the people you dated away, either that or embarrassing you.

"i was just saying that your boyfriend looks like a real gentleman," he says, slinging an arm around the boys shoulders. "he threaten you?" you ask, looking at matt. this earns a scoff, "now, would a sweet, loving tio do something like that?" he tsks.

he looks over at matt, "tell me son, would i do something like that?" he says, squeezing matt's shoulders. the boys eyes widened slightly, "u-um, no, no sir," he says.

you give your tío a glare. he simply smiles and claps matt on the back, "excellent, glad we're on the same page. now, tell me about yourself." "i'm a youtuber-" matt starts, but gets cut off by your younger cousin who had just walked up the table. "a youtuber?" she squealed with excitement, "no wonder you're so pretty."

"back off kid, this ones mine," you mumble at the ten-year-old, wrapping your arm around matt's waist.

"okay, okay, no need to get territorial," your tía says, pushing her daughter away, "now, matt, let's get you a drink." "i don't drink, i'm sober," he says quietly. she winks at the boy, tapping her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "i like you, that was a test, you passed," she stated, grabbing a jarritos. "have a jarritos."

"and for my favorite sobrina," she stated, pouring tequila into two shot glasses. "don't tell your mom about this," she says, handing you one. you took it with a grateful smile, "cheers to you having a good guy by your side for once," she laughed at the last part. the two of you clinked your shot cups together, throwing them back.

the alcohol burned going down, causing you to make a face. "you okay?" matt asks, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. "woah," you shake your head. "mhm, fine," you hum, answering him.

everyone was seated at the table, the children sitting at the kids table. a bowl of pozole sat in front of everybody, as well as a big plate with some elote on it. "what it this?" matt whispers, ducking his head down to talk to you quietly.

"soup," you say, "tía sofia will you pass me a few limes," you ask. she nods her head, passing the small bowl over for you to grab a few. "look," you tell matt, "like this."

you squeeze the lime into the dish, "or you could just put it on top if you want," you shrug. you stir it around, adding some lettuce and onion to yours. "it's not authentic if you leave out the beats," you cousin miles whispers to matt. "literally shut up, like who asked you?" you mumble quietly, not looking to cause a scene over something as stupid as the way you like your pozole.

"here, let's try a little," you tell him, holding a spoon up to his mouth. he opens his mouth and lets you feed him. his eyes boring into yours as you do, he hums when his mouth closes around the utensil.

you pull the spoon away from his mouth and place it down, "how is it?" you ask, grabbing a piece of elote. "elote will never not be good," you state, "pass me the tajin miles."

the black-haired boy complies, sliding the bottle over to you, the plastic clanging with your glass. "thank you." you open the container and sprinkle the seasoning over the cob.

"isn't that a bit much?" matt says, tilting his head. "white people," you mutter, shaking your head as you take a bite of the corn. "no, it's never a bit much," you say, licking the tajin from your fingers.

you look up and see the eyes of your cousin miles staring at you, "what?" you say, glaring at the boy. "you're mean to him, wonder how you've kept him so long." he was obviously trying to get under your skin, it was what miles did. it was like he lived to be able to piss you off whenever he saw you.

"oh yeah, you're the fucking expert in relationships," you say, rolling your eyes. "because you haven't been able to keep somebody for more then five months," you add, looking back down to the table.

"i'm not the one who cheated on her last boyfriend," he says, crossing his arms. "miles," your aunt warns, "not here." "literally a bullshit lie and you know it," you state, getting up, walking inside to the bathroom.

matt quickly followed, leaving behind a table of people that were shocked. he walked in, closing the door behind him, and locked it.

you stood at the sink, gripping the edge as tears filled your eyes. his arms were wrapped around you, "it's not true," you mumble shakily, "i-i didn't," you hiccup. matt shushed you, pulling you closer to him.

"i don't really care if you did," he shrugs, though he knows there would have been a tad bit of fear that it could happen to him. "you didn't," he says, "but even if you did, i don't care. because you're mine, and i love you." he turns you around, cupping your cheeks.

"let's get you cleaned up," he says, using his sleeve to wipe the tears off of your face. you lean into his touch, and nod. "is it normally like this?" he asks, pressing kisses into your hair.

"miles will do or say whatever it takes to get under my skin," you mumble, "he's an immature little boy who doesn't care who's relationships he hurts," you scoff.

matt hums, and holds you close.

"i don't deserve you," you mumble, shaking your head, "i'm a mess." "then i will gladly be a mess with you so we can do it together," he mutters. "let's go back," he says, and unlocks the door.

as soon as he did, your cousin was standing there. "tía wants me to apoligiz-" "save it," you cut him off, holding a hand to his face. you and matt walk back to the table; pan dulce, flan, and tres leches cake gathered in the center of the table.

"here," your tía hands matt a piece of pan dulce. "thanks," he says, smiling at the older woman. he took the sweetened bread from her hands, tearing it in half before handing you one side. he takes a small bite, melting into his chair. "good?" you giggle, glad that most of the family was having their own conversations.

"magical," he hums, "then taste, tres leches," you state, grabbing a small plate with a slice. "tres leches is the only birthday cake i allow," you say, a smile on your face as his eyes light up. "why does this taste better then actual cake?" "because it is," you and your tía selena state at the same time.

matt nods his head and eats his dessert, looking around at all the people. his blue eyes landing on a picture that was hung on the wall. it was a photo of your abuela, the woman who raised your mom. you followed his eyes, "she was an amazing woman," you state, nodding your head.

“she would have loved you if she had the chance to meet you,” you mumble, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.

he looks over at you and smiles, grabbing a piece of flan. he puts the spoon in his mouth and hums, looking at you with wide eyes. "what is this? how did i never know this existed?" "because you never dated a bad ass latina bitch before me," you giggle.

"that's a good point," he shrugs. "and yes, flan is the shit," you laugh, "i love me some caramelized milk." matt's brows furrowed, "milk?" you hum, "milk, sugar, and eggs," you nod.

matt nodded his head and looked back at the dessert. he scooped some more and ate it. by the end of the night, mostly everyone was telling matt what a great guy he was, telling him they'd hope to see him at my cousin delorese quinceañera.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @sturnlovr @blahbel668 @sturncakez @livvy4realll @raysmayhem-72 @jnkvivi

[inf3ct3dd]

ACT 1. TROUBLE

summary: the plan hatches.

warnings: mentions of death, sex joke

wc: 3k

authors note: this fic has been my wonderfully niche vision for so long.... i hope you all enjoy

next chapter. masterlist

the unforgiving blaring heat of the desert was torturous.

the sun seemed to be beaming from right above, practically frying you and your companions skin as you treaded through the sand. one suffering the consequences worse than another, skin resembling a boiled lobster.

dry, chapped lips silently begging for water, only to be met with the sting of saltwater sweat dripping onto them. you can try to lick them away, but it will only worsen the pain. pain, your muscles ache and your bones feel as if they’ll crumble if you step forward once more. you needed…out.…of the heat……

ah, alas, a river! oh, how lovely, a quench to the terrible thirst…. you reach out towards it, cupping your hands to drink, and are met with the hot, cruel surface of a car door.

“are you done, r? you’re gonna set off the alarm.” ellie had destroyed your dramatic scene , rolling her eyes and slumping down on the concrete next to the car. her long ass jorts protected her skin from the heat of the ground.

“no, it can’t be! twas a mirage, my mind has fooled me!” draping a dramatic hand across your forehead, you’re met with a moist surface that you wipe away onto your shorts, falling next to the girl. your shorts however, did not protect you. you slightly hissed in pain, before bringing your knees to your chest.

“they shouldn’t have let you read othello. i think you’re actually going insane.” she bluntly remarks, offering you a light giggle.

your english teacher, honors english if you wanna brag, had just started a shakespeare unit, and you were over the moon. being the first to volunteer to read in class, writing your own gorgeous sonnets about even more gorgeous subjects , and torturing ellie with your constant chiming of “shall i compare thee to a midsummers day?”

“ugh, you hate to see a girl being theatrical.” with a quick roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms and pouted.

“yes, i do.”

ellie knew it wasn’t one of your actual sad pouts, like when she accidentally killed the snail you two found, but simply you being….theatrical. like your wonderful performance in the school musical last year, as sharpay in high school musical. was that fuckass blonde wig a disgrace? absolutely. but your wonderful acting skills distracted from it, or so you hoped.

“you know whats actually making me go insane? the fact that you made me walk to 7-11 in this heat!!! you tryna kill me?”

the taste of the slushy was still lingering in your mouth , along with the red color on your tounge, but the cold it brought was long gone.

“oh my lady, i would never do such a thing! but alas, i required a refreshment, and id hate to go alone.” ellie counters back in her own shitty-british accent , holding a hand to her chest.

“see, told you its fun.” you nudged her elbow with your own, sweaty limbs colliding with a gross “splat”.

“yeah yeah, whatever. you’re right about everything, my glorious queen-“

“indeed!” you interrupted, pout replaced with a cheeky smile.

you both sat for a second, catching your breath. your eyes wandered to ellies arms, and you noticed she had turned into a lobster. her arms were bright red and sunburnt, and you reached out to poke her.

“ow-fuck! why did you do that!!” she winced in pain, moving her arm away.

“jesus, why do you never put on sunscreen? you trying to get tan or something?”

“i didn’t think it would be this bad outside..”

“you’re stupid.”

“you’re mean..”

after a while of you both sitting in comfortable silence, both of your eyes fall on the vehicle across the street. it was the one thing you always loved staring at on this street. the ferrari was reflecting all the beams of ultraviolet hitting it, practically glowing in the humid hellscape. the dashboard and practically everything else was smothered in dust, the cause probably being its idle parking spot, same one it had been occupying since you and ellie were 5 years old. the black detailing and the shiny silver horse enchanted you, despite the cars mildly decrepit state. 13 years later, you wondered if it would even still run. wondered how the engine would feel rumbling underneath you as you pushed against the wind down the empty streets.

people always make driving seem so crazy and thrilling in movies. sharp turns, constant speeding, drifting, it was like the road was a rollercoaster. or maybe you had just watched too many fast and furious movies with your dad.

but every time you were in a car, you were calm. always having an arm out the window, sometimes waving your hand like the ocean, and others making finger legs and doing parkour off of the other cars. when it rained, especially at night, you’d always beg your dad to drive you around. you’d try to count the raindrops on the windshield , and often times you’d let the taps on the windows lull you to sleep.

you have many memories of your dad taking you on drives to get you to sleep. especially when you were younger, and didn’t want to go to bed because you ‘weren’t tired’. every time, he’d just say “you don’t have to sleep, just rest.” sometimes he’d sing the songs he burned onto his cds, other times he’d make lists of things you wanted to do the next day. but no matter what, within 10 minutes you were always out cold. most times he’d keep driving for a bit, just to make sure you were really sleeping, and then carry you as gently as possible up to your room.

now, you knew better than to try and make him carry you up the stairs. you’d have a dramatic stretch, and practically drag yourself to your house before flopping down on the couch. half of the time face first.

you never wanted to be the one driving, though. you didn’t trust yourself behind the wheel, thinking you’d get too relaxed and doze off the second you started driving. or get into a crash. every time you did bumper carts, you’d be the one annoying all the little kids by hitting them a thousand times with your car. plus, highways are scary as fuck.

but for some reason, every time you saw that car parked down your street, you imagined yourself behind the wheel. always with some of those cool ass driving gloves on, and the scorpion jacket ryan gosling had in drive. you’d drift like all those cool dudes in your dads movies, and never ever crash into anyone on the highway. you thought it was blessed with some spell that made everyone who drove it amazing at driving.

ellie had zero faith in you though.

“you’d total that thing in five seconds. do you not remember the last time you tried to drive?”

her rude remark reminded you of the “raspberry incident”, as you called it, from last summer. you were at your grandmas in the countryside, her in the passenger of her big ass suburban trying to teach you to drive in the raspberry fields. you had been pushing a bit hard on the gas a few times, making her tell you to “calm down” , but you were a damn good driver as far as you saw. but it allll went downhill when she made you practice turning. you had turned around one of the rows of berries perfectly, and you were driving a bit too fast to the next corner. but somehow, you turned on the wrong angle and drove straight into the berries. and to make things worse, you kept pushing the gas pedal on accident instead of the brakes. your grandma screaming at you to stop didn’t help much either. you had torn down no more than 1/5 of the row, but nothing happened to the car. a trip to the carwash and it was like nothing ever happened.

“that was soooo long ago. you weren’t even there either! what if i was just over exaggerating when i told you and it wasn’t that bad?”

“you calling yourself a liar?” ellie took a sip of her slushy. the one she made you take this whole treacherous journey for. she was somehow still nursing hers, while yours was in a trash can five blocks back.

“never. how are you still drinking that thing? we’ve been walking for like half an hour!” you grab the drink out of her hand, taking a sip for a biiit too long.

“hey! you can’t even ask? i spent my hard earned money on that thing.“

“oh please, it was only like 3 dollars. you sound like joel right now.”

you both chuckled. ellies dad acted just like yours, that’s probably why they’re such best friends. that and the two dead wives thing, they had a lot in common. and coincidentally, so did you and ellie. you knew each other since you came out of the womb. well, since you came out. ellie was there three weeks before you, and she never let you forget it. constantly on her “respect your elders” bullshit every time you punched her in the arm for stealing your food. you two were fighting over the same toys and blabbering to each other since birth. your parents were convinced you were some baby geniuses that had developed your own language with how much you ‘spoke’ to each other. you two always understood each other.

“whatever dude, i’d be a driving master in that thing. it’d probably be a total chick magnet too. i’d be cleaning that backseat every day.”

ellie poked you in the side at your joke, and you both shoved each other while you laughed.

“yeah, you and your spongebob boxers are definitely soooo seductive.”

“you can’t say shit, you have the matching patrick pair!”

almost half your closet was either clothes you took from ellies house, or ones you bought to match with her. your dad has a whole photo album of old pictures he took of you and her in your matching outfits. and you have a bin in the attic stacked to the brim with your matching halloween costumes. the one matching thing the two of you never took off was your necklaces. it was one of those basic hearts, two pieces of silver that fit together perfectly with “best friends�� and an infinity sign engraved on it. you had begged your dad for it while you were at a beach store, and he reluctantly gave in. you had the ‘st ends’ side, and ellie had the ‘be fri’ one. no matter the occasion, even with the excessive amount of necklaces you always wore, that one was always a part of the stack. and ellie only ever wore the one. in fact, the only jewelry she ever wore was the bracelets you two had made for each other and her necklace.

“hey, they’re comfy! i love those things.”

“you know what i’d love?”

“deez nuts in your mouth??”

you slapped ellie on the arm , and she grabbed it in pain.

“fuck you! you know im sensitive right now!!”

“you’ll live. ANYWAYS, i was talking about the car.”

“pssht, who wouldn’t. who leaves a perfect 288 on the side of the road for this long?” ellies inner car-nerd spilled out,eyebrows furrowing in question.

you and ellie had dreamed of that car ever since you were barely taller than the side doors. pretending to drive it when she came over to yours, leaning against it as you ate your ice cream and accidentally setting off the alarm, even peering in through the windows occasionally. the white envelope with a small bulge always intrigued the two of you, desperately wondering what was inside of it. you’d never seen anyone get in or out of it, and you were surprised it lasted this long on this street.

“why’re you still on this anyway? its not like we’re gonna just steal it or something.”

when you stare back at her for a bit too long, she sighs at you and rolls her eyes. your dumb ideas almost always end horribly, and she wasn’t in for all that this summer.

like last year, when you two were working at this big outdoor restaurant. you had somehow convinced her to drive around one of the golf carts, and it ended with you accidentally ramming it into some dudes car. you both quit to avoid the guy, and you’ve never been back since.

“well, why not! i mean really ellie, I’ve seen you break into joels truck before. you could do it.”

it was an isolated incident. she had locked herself out of the car, and she used a random hanger she found in the mall parking lot to squeeze through the crack in the window and unlock the door.

“thats not the same as stealing some random car!!what if the dude who owns it is some mean gangster and he finds out we took his car and he fucking kills us??? or what if its full of a bunch of illegal shit and we get arrested while we’re driving it?”

“since when do you care this much about shit like that? you convinced me to keep a lizard in my closet for three weeks once. plus, do you really think anyone’s gonna come looking for it? that things been there longer than we’ve been alive.”

“even if we do steal it, what if it doesn’t even run anymore? and if it does, are we just gonna hotwire it every time we wanna drive?”

ellie was sadly thinking logically about this , and you weren’t having it. the pout on your face was growing bigger and bigger, and you rolled your eyes at her.

“you’re so boring.”

“im not boring, you’re just insane and impulsive.”

“besides, where would we even hide it? neither of us have a garage or anything.”

“you ask too many questions. come onnnn, this could be our little sappy senior year memory!! even if it goes like, totally wrong and we get arrested or some shit.”

you and ellies high school experience was..lackluster at most. no crazy adventures, no parties, no insane hookups, nothing. every movie about highschool you two had watched had completely lied to you, because it was boring as fuck. i mean, probably not for everyone else, but definitely for you two. this car would be a saving grace for you two, it could top off senior year perfectly.

“your idea of a great senior year memory is grand theft auto?”

“i mean, the games awesome. why not?”

she chuckled a bit at your bad joke, leaving a smile on your face. everything in her was telling her it was an awful idea, but you were giving her your most convincing puppy dog eyes, hands under your chin pleading to her.

you were amazing at persuading her, and the way your eyes practically sparkled when you spoke of even the mere idea of it sent her to the stars. how could she say no to you?

“…let me think about it.”

“WOOOO”

for ellie, ‘let me think about it’ was almost always code for yes. especially when it came to you. the two of you walked back to your house, ellie finally finishing her slushy. she chucked it in your garbage can before leaving you at your door. you tried to hug her goodbye, but she pushed you away.

“lobster skin. it still hurts. youll probably wanna hug me more tomorrow.”

and the next day, at 8:30, ellie showed up at your window with a toolbox smelling like aloe vera.

[atlabeth]

far too young to die - anthony lockwood

summary: three things happen on the day you decide to solve your problem:

your tea-making skills get lauded

you get the biggest history lesson of your life

everything goes wrong.

you should have expected this the moment lockwood & co got involved.

a/n: this got away from me but twas very fun to write and protective lockwood is becoming my lifeblood lol<3 enjoy and remember kids: fuck netflix

wc: 5.7k

warning(s): canon typical stuff, mentions of murder and throat slitting, implied/sort of described domestic abuse, hurt/comfort. reader panics a lot. suspend your disbelief please and thank you. reader also has a last name of holloway just for convenience

Reading the newspaper was impossible this morning. 

Your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down, and the envelope on the far side of the table drew your eye every five seconds, and your neighbor did not need to be cutting his lawn at the moment, and all the while that presence was there. It always was, whispering illegible things to you and taunting you through the shadows and making your life a living hell you couldn’t prove. 

An unwilling shiver ran down your spine, and you tamped down on it. 

After today, it would finally be over. 

Hopefully. 

The doorbell rang, and you about jumped out of your skin. You took a deep breath, calming your heartbeat as you set your cup of tea back on the table, and went over to the door. When you opened it, you were met by three teenagers about your age, and the lanky, dark-haired boy in front gave you a small smile.

“We’re here for Edmund Holloway,” he said. “Have we got the right address?”

“You do—I’m his daughter,” you said. “You’re the agents?” 

The boy nodded. “Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood and Co.” He held out his hand and you shook it, and once you released it he gestured to the other boy and girl standing with him. “These are my colleagues, Lucy Carlyle and George Karim.” 

You nodded again, wringing your hands together as you let out a shaky exhale and said your name. “Anthony, Lucy, George— nice to meet you all.” 

“Lockwood is just fine,” he said, and you nodded. 

“Are you the one who put out the ad?” George asked with a frown. “It doesn’t look like your father is here.” 

You shook your head. “My father put out the ad. He’s on a business trip at the moment.” 

Anthony frowned. “Why isn’t he here?” 

“He doesn’t handle ghosts very well,” you said wryly. “Gives him an awful fright.” 

“Most people don’t,” Lucy said. “That’s why we’re around.” 

“Forgive my bluntness, but it doesn’t seem very smart of him to leave his daughter in a haunted house,” Lockwood said. “Even if agents are clearing the house.” 

“He doesn’t exactly… know I’m still here,” you admitted sheepishly. “My father expected me to stay at a friend’s house until today, give you all the payment, and then make myself scarce until the problem was solved.” 

“Why in the world are you here then?” George asked. 

“...Because I need to know that this ghost is gone,” you stated. “I need to see with my own eyes that it’s over.” 

Lockwood eyed you cautiously, and you cleared your throat as you stepped aside. “Come in, agents. I can explain over tea.” 

You closed the door as they filed inside, and you wrought your hands together as you followed them. “I’ve got Earl Grey and chamomile, if anyone’s interested,” you said as you began filling up your kettle. 

“Chamomile would be lovely,” Lucy said, her eyes wandering around the interior as she took a seat next to George at your table. 

Lockwood, however, stayed standing. He pointed at a painting hanging on the wall and glanced at you. “Starry Night?” 

You nodded. “My grandmother painted it when she was younger. She specifically left it in her will for me.”

He smiled. “It’s beautiful.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” You pulled a tin of loose tea out of your cabinet and set it on the table. “I’ve never been much of a painter myself, but I’ve always wanted to learn like her.” 

“As interesting as this is, you said you would explain your poor choices,” George interrupted. “And your history.” 

“Blunt as he is,” Lockwood said dryly, “he’s right.” He took a seat next to Lucy, leaning back in the chair. “Tell us everything you know about this house—anything that could be causing the haunting.” George cleared his throat and his lips twitched. “And why you’re still in the haunted house alone.” 

You nodded, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “To answer the question on all of your minds, I have no idea who the ghost could be. My only guess is some fellow from decades ago, back before the house was in our immediate family.” 

“You inherited it?” George asked. 

“From my grandmother,” you said, “the same one who painted. She died a few decades ago, and she left the house to her son in her will. After my mother died, my father and I moved here to get away from the memories.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lucy said softly, and you managed a smile. 

“Thank you.” You folded your arms across your chest. “And before you ask, no—it’s not my mother’s ghost. She died far away from here, and she’d have no reason to stay behind.” 

“Do you know when this house was built?” George asked. “A lot of the architecture looks Victorian.” 

“Sharp eye,” you said with a slight smile, and you stood up from your spot against the counter as the kettle started to whistle. You poured the water into three mugs and added your handmade tea bags before you looked back at them. “It was built in the 1850s, I believe. I think it’s been in our family since then, but I’ve only been aware of it since my grandmother.” 

“Could it be your grandmother’s ghost then?” Lucy asked, and you shook your head. 

“She didn’t die here. And she wouldn’t have any reason to stay either,” you said. “Which is why I’ve had no idea who it could be.” 

“Strange indeed,” Lockwood agreed, suddenly speaking up. His gaze pierced into you. “You’ve got such a connection to this ghost and yet you don’t even know who it could be.” 

Your cheeks burned. George huffed a laugh. 

“That’s right,” he said. “You haven’t even told us about why you’re still here.” 

“The ghost hasn’t just been haunting our house,” you murmured, staring down at the floorboards. You’d have to clean the dirt between the cracks later. “It’s… it’s been haunting me too.” 

Lucy frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“It’s always around me,” you said, and even then you could feel the chills all over your body. At this point, though, it might’ve been your own design. “I— I can always feel its presence, I hear it whispering to me constantly, and it feels like every time I touch something old in here I get a damned vision, or voices in my head, and—” 

You stopped, realizing your voice had risen without you noticing, and you took a deep breath. 

“And I feel like I’m going insane,” you finished, your tone much quieter than before. 

“You’ve got Touch,” Lockwood concluded, something different in his eyes. Lucy’s expression had softened, and George just looked even more interested than before when you nodded. 

“Talent that strong and you’re not an agent,” he said. “Why?” 

“I’ve never wanted it,” you said dryly. “And after dealing with this ghost for the past few months, I’ve got even less desire.” 

“You should consider it,” he said. “Maybe then you won’t have a ghost in your backyard.”

“This ghost has been toying with you for months, but it hasn’t even tried to harm you,” Lucy said. “It’s definitely a Type 2 based off your description, so I’ve got no idea why. What’s the point?” 

Lockwood shrugged, and he gave a nod of thanks as you placed the mugs of tea in front of them. “Maybe it’s related to you after all. I’ve heard cases of relatives not harming their own, especially in more sentient Type 2s—it’s rare, but it happens.” He looked at you. “If this house has been in your family since the 1800s, surely there’s been at least one violent Holloway death worthy of the Other Side.” 

“Is your theorizing always this fun?” you asked as you crossed your arms. 

“Usually more,” he said helpfully. Lockwood took a sip of tea and hummed. “We should get chamomile more often.” 

“I’m always telling you to,” Lucy said. “George is just insistent on making his own black tea.” 

“That’s because it’s far superior!” he exclaimed. “You should be thanking me for it, honestly.” 

Lockwood took another sip and looked at them. “She makes a great chamomile. It might just change your mind.” 

“I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” you said, arms still folded as their heads all snapped to you, “but we’ve only got two hours until the sun sets, and this house is still very much haunted.” 

“Right. I guess that means we should start preparations.” Lockwood stood up, smiling at you. “Thank you for the tea and your information. We’ll take your keys, vet the place, and hopefully have your ghost vanquished before morning comes.” 

“You don’t need my keys,” you said. “I’m staying.

George laughed. “You can’t be serious.” 

He looked at you, completely serious, and then at Lockwood, who wasn’t immediately objecting, and his eyes widened. “You can’t be serious!” 

“I want to help,” you said plainly. “It’s my house, it’s my ghost. I want it gone, and I want to be there when it happens.” 

“You’ve got no training,” he said. “You’ve got Talent, sure, but zero training. You’ll just—” he looked at Lockwood— “she’ll just slow us down.” 

“…You do know this place better than anyone,” Lockwood said, eyes still on you. “Right?” 

You nodded. “Lived here for the past ten years. I know all its nooks and crannies, and I could guide you through it blindfolded.” 

“You’re not an agent,” George said. 

“You said it yourself that I’ve got Talent,” you said, “and an obvious connection to this place and whatever’s haunting it, seeing as the ghost won’t leave me alone.” 

“Lucy, you can’t seriously be okay with this,” he said, glancing at her. 

“…I have some Touch too. I can help her, see if we’re picking up the same things. Besides,” Lucy said with a shrug, “you all took me in on a whim before I was fully certified. It’s just one job, in her house of all places.” 

“I won’t impede your work—I promise.” You looked at Lockwood, desperation mixing with resolve in your eyes. “For months, this house has haunted me from within. I want to be with you when you destroy it.” 

Lockwood’s lips quirked up in the slightest of smiles as he nodded. “Alright, then.” 

You immediately broke into a wide smile of your own as George sighed. “DEPRAC is going to have a field day with us if anything goes wrong. Allowing a completely uncertified girl to help us.”

“If anything goes wrong, I’ll personally take the blame for it,” you said. “I’ll say I forced you into letting me work with you all, and I will pay any fines.”

“Once we got fined 60,000 pounds for burning a house down,” he deadpanned. “Are you alright with that?”

You frowned. “Should I really be hiring you all?” 

“Come off it, George,” Lockwood said, and he collapsed his hands together. “Nothing like that will happen today, I assure you.” He smiled wryly. “As long as everything you told us was the truth, that is.” 

“It is,” you said. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” 

Lucy huffed a laugh. “You’d be surprised what some people do.” 

“Another reason I don’t want to become an agent,” you supplied. 

Lockwood picked up their bags and set them on the table, and he pulled out a bundle of chains then he tossed it to you. You caught it with a slight grunt. 

“Do you know how to use those, not-an-agent?” Lockwood asked wryly. 

You rolled your eyes, though not without mirth, and nodded. “I read, Mr. Lockwood.” 

“Good. Those are for your protection. We’ll protect you, of course,” he gestured at his rapier, “but it’s a last resort.” 

“Let’s try not to get there, then,” you said. 

“One thing you should know about working with us is that things rarely go to plan,” George said. 

“That is not true,” Lockwood rushed, but that only proved that it was most certainly true. 

You sighed as you finished the rest of your tea from before, having gone cold. You were certainly getting yourself into something with these agents. 

“Right, then,” Lockwood said, clearing his throat. He pulled out his rapier, that small smirk showing itself again as he looked at all of you. “Let’s catch ourselves a ghost.” 

-

You didn’t think your house had ever been as intimidating, as tense, as it did now.

You creeped through its hallways alongside the agents, the chains icy cold in your grip, almost scared to even breathe. Lockwood and Lucy had their rapiers drawn, and George held a net in one hand with one of their bags slung over his shoulder. 

They carried themselves differently than any of the teenagers you’d been around, with an air of eerie confidence completely foreign to you. It was admirable in a sense. Scary to think it could have been you. 

“No death glows yet,” Lockwood muttered. “Hear anything, Luce?”

“Very faint yelling,” she murmured. “I can tell it’s an argument—there’s two different voices, but that’s all I can make out.”

Lockwood looked at you, but you shook your head. “Not ringing a bell.”

“Where?” George asked. “Arguments are a good sign.” 

Lucy edged past Lockwood so she was in the lead, and you moved up the stairs. She paused at the top, her eyes closed and her brow slightly furrowed. “It’s even louder up here. I feel it all over, but it’s stronger around here. It’s a couple, a man and a woman—finances, jealousy, general unhappiness…” Lucy opened her eyes and looked at you. “Did your grandparents argue while they lived here?” 

“They argued like any other couple,” you said, “but as far as I know, they were completely happy. They loved each other.” You frowned. “And I don’t know why regular arguments would be so strong around here after so long.” 

“Time isn’t the biggest aspect for sounds,” Lucy explained. “They can linger for decades and be as strong as the day it happened.”

“And maybe they weren’t just regular arguments,” George suggested, your stomach sinking at the thought. 

“Could it be your grandfather’s ghost?” Lucy asked. 

You shook your head. “No. He’s alive, and he doesn’t even live in England anymore.” 

“Move around and touch some things then,” George said. “See if you get anything.” 

And so you did. You handed the chains to Lockwood and laid your hands on various things around the hallway and some of the rooms while George and Lucy went off on their own—the walls, certain objects, the beds. All you got were memories from your first few years here, and a blur of the decades between your grandparents. It was overwhelming, and you had to pull away after you touched your grandfather’s watch in your dad’s room. 

“Do you feel alright?” Lockwood asked. Though George and Lucy had gone off on their own, Lockwood had stayed with you to, one, make sure you were protected as his client, and two, keep track of any information. “You’re stumbling a bit.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I’m… I’m fine. I’m just not used to using my Talent on purpose like this.” 

“On purpose,” he repeated wryly. 

“I try not to do anything with it,” you said. “I told you, I don’t want to be an agent.” 

“There’s a lot of people out there that would kill for a power like yours,” he said. “Kids stuck on night watch, agents with fading Talent, adults who can’t see for shit. Seems strange to just… ignore yours.” 

You shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not ignoring it now, am I?” 

“No,” Lockwood said, “I suppose you’re not.”

Eventually, you made it to another room, your grandparents’ old bedroom that you’d ended up turning into your father’s office, and when you opened the door Lockwood whistled. 

“That’s a bright death glow.” 

You grimaced. “So this is where they died.” 

He nodded. “By the look of it, it wasn’t pretty.” 

“Great,” you muttered, and you walked inside. 

“Lucy! George!” Lockwood called as he followed you in, craning his neck to look behind him. “Get over here—we’ve got a lead!” 

“What is it?” you heard Lucy asking, her voice getting closer. 

Though you started to answer, you didn’t get the chance to finish as the door slammed shut on its own, separating you and Lockwood from the others. Your eyes widened as you whirled around. 

“Don’t panic,” Lockwood said immediately. You nodded shakily despite the blood pounding in your ears, and at your confirmation, he yelled out. “Luce? George? Are you alright?”

“We’re fine!” Lucy shouted, and there was the rattling of the doorknob. “Is it locked on your side?”

You moved forward and tried to turn the handle to test it, but a scream was ripped from your throat as you stumbled backwards. Your hands flew to your neck, splaying across the skin as you expected to feel blood, but there was nothing. The cold metal pressed against your skin, the sharp edge of the knife tore across it, but there was nothing. Centuries flashed behind your eyelids but there was nothing. 

Lucy and George called out your name, but you couldn’t respond, your eyes wide as dinner plates as your whole body shook.

“God, are you alright?” Lockwood caught your shoulders before you could run into him, and his hands stayed there when he realized how much you were trembling. When you turned to look at him, your hand still pressed against your neck to stop invisible bleeding, his eyes were filled with concern. “What did you see?”

“I… I—” You tried to voice it, but the words stuck in your throat as the tremors continued.

Lucy yelled your name again and there was a bang on the door, and Lockwood looked up. “She’s okay! She felt something when she touched the handle— Lucy, see what you can get on your side!”

“Got it!”

“It’s okay,” Lockwood said softly, his attention turning back to you. His hands on your shoulders grounded you, and he was a surprisingly welcome presence. “Whatever’s here, I won’t let it hurt you. You just have to tell me whatever it is you saw when you touched that doorknob.”

“I didn’t see anything,” you finally managed. “I— I heard them yelling, screaming, threatening to leave each other, and then—” You forced your breathing to still, but it hardly worked. 

“And then what?” His voice was still just as soft, and he didn’t move away from you or take his hands back. He just stood there, waiting for you. 

“And then he killed her, Lockwood,” you whispered, your hand falling to his wrist. “She threatened to leave him, and he slit her throat.” You still felt the blood dripping down your neck. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. 

He was alarmingly good at keeping his emotions in check, the only sign of his shock the slightest pause before he asked again. “Who?” 

“I— I don’t know,” you said. “I just— I felt it, and it’s the same presence I’ve been feeling for months.” 

“So it’s our ghost,” he said. “Obviously, but we just need to see if Lucy can…” 

His words phased through your ears as the air in front of you shimmered, blue light coalescing into the source of your endless tormentor. One image, one woman, one ghost, the face of someone you never thought was an option, and you could do nothing but stare. 

“Lockwood,” you croaked, and he turned around. Immediately, his expression hardened, and he said your name as he moved forward and in turn pushed you behind him. 

“Don’t make a sound,” he uttered as he slowly drew his rapier, and he handed the chains back to you. You took them as quietly as possible, and with his arm braced in front of you, he moved the two of you back a safe distance. “Do you recognize her?” 

You nodded, but you couldn’t speak. All you could do was stare up, wide-eyed at the ghost above you. You’d been expecting a monstrous apparition, a cruel face to put to the presence that had been haunting you all this time, but it wasn’t. It was familiar, and perhaps it was cruel all the same, because the ghost was—

“Now would be a good time to say it,” Lockwood said dryly. 

You nodded again, your voice barely a whisper. “I guess I was wrong.” Your throat bobbed. “Because that’s my grandmother.”  

“Ah,” Lockwood said placidly. “The ghost really is your grandmother. Lovely.” 

“I never knew,” you whispered. “I didn’t know she died here, that she was murdered—” 

“You’ve got to stay calm,” Lockwood interrupted. “You’re not going to be any help to me or yourself if you’re not calm.” 

You didn’t know how you were supposed to stay calm in the face of your murdered ghost of a grandmother, who looked far younger than she was supposed to because she was murdered— 

“Do you hear me?” he asked, his voice more assertive than before. “I need you to stay calm for me.” 

Your vocal chords decided to work this time, though just barely. “I— I’ll try my hardest.” 

“I’m sure you know this already,” he said wryly, “but don’t let her touch you.” 

And then, George’s voice rang out. 

“What the hell is going on in there?” he called, and the ghost lunged. 

Lockwood pushed you back all the while slashing his rapier at your grandmother, her screams filling your ears and penetrating your body to the bone. It stole the breath out of you, even as her body dissolved from the metal, and Lockwood latched onto your arm as he backed to the edge of the room with you. 

“We’ve got a Type 2 in here!” Lockwood yelled, his sword brandished and his arm still protectively in front of you as his eyes darted all over the room, breath held as he waited to see where she would appear next. “George, work on getting that lock open! Lucy, find the source!” 

“Do you have any idea what it is, or am I just on a wild goose chase?” Lucy asked frantically. 

“The latter,” you responded, and you heard her groan as she ran off. 

“I don’t know if a lockpick will even work,” George said, voice muffled through the wood. “Ghost powers don’t respond well to science.” 

“At least try,” Lockwood said. “I’d appreciate it knowing you’re on the case.” 

“As long as you try not to die,” he grumbled. 

“No promises.” 

You shook your head as shaky breaths rocked through you. “Your sense of humor is a bit morbid.” 

Lockwood winked, somehow smiling even now. “We’ve got to cope somehow.” 

You huffed a laugh, only slightly unhinged. “Sorry about this, by the way. I really didn’t know that it was my grandmother. Honest to God, I had no idea she died here.” 

“One of the less egregious problems we’ve had,” Lockwood said. His eyes sharpened as he looked across the room, and your grandmother’s ghost suddenly appeared again. 

His grip loosened on your arm as he pulled away, handling his rapier with the skill of someone twenty years his elder. You lashed out with your chains whenever she got too close, staying behind Lockwood every time he shifted or twisted or moved around the office, but in such a small space—all the while dealing with her screams and the constant dread just being near her filled you with—you were beginning to grow tired. 

“Do you have any idea what her source would be?” he asked. “Or— or where it would be?” 

“No!” you exclaimed. “I thought we’d just be dealing with some bloke that was killed a few decades ago, not my grandmother and her vicious murder that I knew nothing about!” 

“Try and think, then!” Lockwood thrust forward with his rapier, preventing the ghost from advancing on the two of you for a moment as he continued to move back. “I know that this is shocking, but we’ll have time to deal with that later. Right now, you have to focus! Use your talent!”

Your heart beat like a hammer, the blood pounding in your ears, and you nodded. “Keep her away from me.”

Before Lockwood could question anything, before you could second guess yourself, you lashed out with the chains and darted past your grandmother’s ghost. You latched onto the doorknob again as you screwed your eyes shut, and it hit you all at once.

You weren’t immediately dead, so you assumed Lockwood was doing his job. But centuries of memories flashed before your eyes, and you were living through years simultaneously. 

The first time your grandparents toured the house together, your grandfather closing the door behind him as he took a moment for himself. He knew then that was where he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 

When they decided to buy the house and crossed the threshold for the first time, him carrying your grandmother all the way up the stairs and to their bedroom, her falling onto the bed with a delighted squeal. 

Your father was born, and your grandfather’s hand slipped off the doorknob as he carried his newborn baby into the room, cooing and rocking him while he walked over and sat on the side of his bed. 

He lost his job, closing the door with a hand running down his face as he slammed his fist into the wall. The wallpaper dented beneath his knuckles, but he didn’t even notice. 

Your grandmother carefully closing the door behind her, padding over to the desk, opening the drawer and finding letters. Undistilled shock and barely bridled anger, the stench of betrayal. 

An awful argument, the worst yet. Screaming so loud it rocked the walls of the room, insults and threats and accusations flying through the air without a second thought. She went to leave, put her hand on the doorknob, but he went mad with rage. He slashed her throat from behind before he can even think, and your grandmother died with her hand still on the handle before she collapsed.

The doorknob, and—

“Her brooch,” you muttered, and your eyes widened as you slammed your hand against the door. “George, the brooch! Tell Lucy to get the brooch!”

“What brooch?” he yelled back. 

“My grandmother’s brooch!” you shouted. “My grandfather gave it to her as an anniversary gift. It’s emerald, Georgian cut! You’ll know when you see it— the vanity in the master bedroom on the first floor! You don’t have time to get her, just go!”

His footsteps ran off, but you didn’t even get a moment to relax as you felt that awful presence again. 

You whirled around and your breath caught in your chest, frozen stiff as you stared back at the face of your grandmother. 

It wasn’t that cruel, demented thing you’d seen when she attacked at first. This was just… her. Beautiful and fair-faced, late thirties having no effect on her. The eyes of your father, elegantly braided hair. You recognized the style of her dress, one that had been passed down to you. 

She looked like… like you’d imagined yourself in a decade or two. 

God, she was so young. Young and in love and betrayed. 

The world grew dimmer, your surroundings taking on a crystalline sheen. Everything was cold and your muscles were made of lead. You heard distant shouts, but it didn’t matter. 

Nothing mattered. 

You were so tired.

And then it all shattered. You crumpled to your knees, an overwhelming stabbing in your head as your breath came back to you in haggard waves.

Lockwood was over you, his rapier forgotten on the ground, and he shook your shoulders as he said your name over and over.

“…Lockwood?” you managed, your eyes barely open as you looked up at him. 

His smile was one of pure relief as he nodded, and though he stopped shaking, his hands still remained on your shoulders. “Yeah. You’re alright.”

“What happened?” you murmured. 

“You were ghost-locked,” he said breathlessly. “I tried to fend her off, but she was only focused on you. George must’ve gotten to the source right before she could get you.” He smiled sheepishly, but there was clear-cut fear behind those eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“I nearly died,” you said. The words tasted like plastic on your tongue, unusual and stiff. 

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

Lockwood went to say more, but the door busted open suddenly, drawing the attention of both of you.

George and Lucy were both completely out of breath when they barged in. Lucy’s rapier was drawn and George held your grandmother’s brooch in his hand, wrapped ten times over in a metal net.

“Are you all okay?” Lucy asked, her eyes wide as yours. “I could hear her all the way downstairs, and—” 

“We’re alright,” you interrupted, and you looked at Lockwood. He got the hint, and he helped you up from the ground. The energy had been completely drained from you after being ghost-locked, so he kept his arm around you. 

“Looks like you were right,” George said, holding the brooch up. “Half-right, the ghost being your grandmother and all, but you’re right where it matters.” 

“Pretty good time to be right,” you said shakily. 

“Last minute save.” Lockwood laughed breathlessly. “You fit right in here.”

-

Lockwood helped you downstairs, and he insisted on making tea for you while you sat at the table with George and Lucy explaining what had happened. 

Your grandparents were happy, you hadn’t been wrong, but one too many things went wrong beneath the surface. They got married young, but he never felt like he was good enough for her despite her reassurances. He lost his job a week before your father was born, and with the stress, the finances, the jealousy— it all built up. Your grandfather snapped, so your grandmother did as well. 

“...and he killed her,” you finished quietly. “She found out he was cheating on her, they had this huge argument and she actually meant to follow through on her threats of leaving him.” You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “It turns out she never got the chance, and my grandfather’s been lying to us and the world ever since.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy murmured, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.” 

You nodded thankfully, and you smiled up at Lockwood as he placed a fresh cup of tea in front of you. It warmed your bones when you took a sip, and you already felt your strength coming back from the ordeal. 

“You all might get some calls from the police,” you said. “I’m going to call my father tonight and tell him everything, and then we’re going straight to the authorities.” 

“We’ll back you up if we get any,” Lockwood assured. “We’ll tell them everything you told us.”  

Lucy and George nodded. “I got some visions of my own that corroborate your story,” she said, “so don’t worry about proof.” 

George held up your grandmother’s brooch, still wrapped in the net. “I’ll hold onto this if they need it for evidence. Soon as it’s done, we’ll take it straight to the furnaces.” 

You nodded gratefully, and after another sip of tea, you stood up. Your legs didn’t shake, so you took another step and looked back at them. “Come on. I’ll walk you all out.” 

After the three of them gathered their things, you followed them to the door, and your smile was the most genuine it had been since this all started. 

“I can’t thank you all enough,” you said. “Lucy, George, Lockwood—you’ve put an end to my misery, you’ve finally put my grandmother to rest, and you’ve helped bring a murderer to justice.” Your shoulders felt a whole lot lighter as you handed the envelope to Lockwood. “I’m forever in your debt.”

“I wouldn’t say forever in our debt,” George said. “You’ve just paid that off.” 

You cracked a smile as Lockwood swatted him with the envelope, then he looked back at you with the same charm as always.

“We were happy to help. And we appreciated yours as well.” Lockwood dug into his pocket and pulled something out, pressing it into your hand. He lingered for just a moment too long before he pulled away and cleared his throat. 

“Your business card,” you realized as you brought it up closer. “What for?”

“You’re Talented,” Lockwood said, “obviously. Even though you haven’t honed it at all, you’ve still got some pretty impressive raw ability. If you ever find you want to put it to use, learn the ropes of being an agent… give us a call.” He smiled. “Lockwood & Co would be happy to have you.”

You looked over at Lucy, almost as if you wanted her approval. She gave you that faint smile. “You’re good when you’re confident, Holloway. And it would be nice to have another girl.”

George, next. He shrugged. 

“You held your own,” he said, “mostly. I wouldn’t be opposed to it if you got some training. We can’t expand our agency for just anyone.”

“And you already know what I think,” Lockwood said with that same smile. 

You couldn’t help a slight one of your own, and you looked at the business card again before shoving it into your pocket. “I’ll think about it.”

Lockwood nodded. “35 Portland Row. Remember it.”

“I don’t think I could forget,” you said with a soft laugh.

His lips twitched into a smile. “Good.”

Lockwood nodded at you one last time, something passing between you for just a moment before he turned around and his crew followed him. You watched the three of them get into the taxi and drive off before you closed the door, allowing yourself a deep, deep sigh. 

And despite all the chaos that had just occurred, despite the life-changing revelation that was brought forth, despite your near-death experience and the shift to your axis and the tainting of your family tree, as you walked back inside and picked up the phone to dial your father…

You felt more at peace than you had in a long, long time. 

You took the business card out of your pocket, staring at it as you waited for the number to connect. 

…Maybe, you thought wryly.

Just maybe. 

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback 

[art-of-the-void]

To Celebrate Shadow milk cookie releasing in a few hours here's a few of my finished and unfinished Shadow milk doodles

I don't remember the original time order for these but here they are

Some stuff about some of them

Doodle 1: twas my first time drawing him, I'm really proud of how it turned out and I twisted my style a bit specifically for this. Twas also the start of me hyperfixating on him. Redrew my favorite sprite of his, specifically because it's titled sing :3

Doodle 2-3: my Christmas drawing of 2024. I usually do a Christmas drawing a year and this one was last year's. Funnily enough it would be my second time drawing something cookie run related for Christmas, last time being in i think 2020 or 2021 it's been awhile. I couldn't decide if I wanted the hats to be blue or red, so I decided to do both. Genius ik.

Doodle 4: I saw a challenge in which you draw your oc in those very bright default Ibispaint colours so I did it with Shadow milk.

Doodle 5: I have a tendency to draw my favorite characters as genshin emotes (I did it with Sebastian Solace too-) so I started with (I think it's) a sethos emote, specifically for whenever I randomly enter my friends and family's DMS or some of the servers I'm in

Doodle 6: another sprite redraw. i believe this was drawn around the time I finished reading the Wind archer and Shadow milk side story. I love it sm.

Doodle 7: my New years drawing (obviously-) wanted to do something silly, I also stole the bg from a cutscene because I'm lazy and I hate drawing backgrounds.

Doodle 8: I was in need of a shadow milk popcorn emote to match my favorite Furina popcorn gif that I use all the time on discord. So I made one :3

Doodle 9: one of my many shadow milk doodle pages that I was drawing while waiting for today. The rest are physically drawn rather than digitally. This actually features one of my OCs I made for fun named Stringed Blueberry milk cookie. I might make a post about her. But ngl she's kinda silly and self indulgent and very canon divergent.

Doodle 10: another doodle page, but before I started my countdown ones. Two are inspired by someone on Tumblr's Shadow milk and Pure Vanilla cozy fall outfits. I don't remember the blog's name rn unfortunately tho. Might edit later to include their name if I find it again.

These aren't all my doodles

However Tumblr has a 10 image limit it would seem so, unfortunately this is as much as I can give atm.

And I'm constantly drawing more

The hyperfixation won't let me go-

Anyway that's all for now

I have to go back to

Well drawing

I'm actually currently working on drawing all my currently owned cookie run kingdom cookies

So I will eventually post those when I read 10 illustrations

I have over 100 so it'll certainly be a lot of posts-

See you then!

[alexanderlightweight]

Hope your moving is going swimmingly! I am also moving soon and already stressed l. Plus work so 😬. So my request is something soothing, where Magnus and Alec are just having a lovely time. Verse of your choice

i mean, it happened and it's now past the hardest part! tbh it was stressful and super hot — twas 115ish — but the worst part is now over! Nightshade and the Abyss love the new place and the Abyss is having fun trying to assert her authority over the house — she’s tiny, it’s not going as she planned. however she is about 1/10 of Nightshade’s weight and size and she spent the first night taunting him, teasing him and smacking him with sheathed paws every time he gave in to her meowing at him. 

she likes to wait until nightshade is sleeping and then she sneaks up on him and meows at him until he wakes up and then he goes to say hi, she smacks him and then runs so he’ll chase her so he can get in trouble and so she can smack him again. he’a still really young but he’s trying so hard to be friends with her and she’s older and has no interest in actually playing with a puppy — just bullying him. she’s the stereotype of a cat who goes ‘mwahaha’ while blaming the dog for things.

btw Nightshade’s reaction is legit to just upset zoomie or shake a toy at her and cry after she hits him.

they both got in trouble for those shenanigans btw (the running in the kitchen)

moving is incredibly taxing, mentally and physically so take care of yourself! be safe <3 remember that it’s okay and necessary to take breaks and hydrate lots! 

also just so it's known in general, things will be a bit odd even with the move finishing up because my laptop got damaged pretty badly during the move and we don't know if it's salvageable yet. so i'm using my phone and saeth's when they're not using it for writing themselves.

this is in the 'petals vs' and i hope you find it soothing because i did but if not, just let me know cause everyone finds different vibes comforting! good luck on your move! let me know how it goes? i hope it is as stress free as possible and nothing breaks!

<3 lumine

—

Magnus adds two streaks of purple to his hair and one of mauve before he holds up of a sprig of wisteria, making sure that the colors match. They do and it’s with pleasure that Magnus puts in two — magically crystallized and grown — dangling earrings created from the same flowers that Alexander is going to wear.

It’s a simple night out and Magnus is in the mood for the quiet intimacy of a long walk with his beloved. 

They don’t necessarily need to dress up for what will essentially be a trek through a hidden grove, but both of them like to indulge both each other and themselves. 

“Alexander—” Magnus calls as he finishes the last touches of his craft and when he turns, it’s to find his darling watching him with soft, adoring eyes. 

Magnus manages to last an entire half-a-second before he’s crossing the room and rubbing his palms down Alexander’s shoulders and then kissing his cheek. 

“You look better.” He finally lets himself say, drinking in the sight that is a well-rested, fully healed Alexander. A kiss is pressed to his jaw and then his mouth, lips lingering with a subtle intensity that lingers almost wistfully. 

“You too, you have enough energy for this trip, right?” He’s asked carefully and Magnus can’t help his smile.

Alexander isn’t being doubtful, he’s being earnestly sweet and Magnus lingers in the languid feeling of being cared for. The last three nights have been full of portals and magic and healing and — while Alexander hunted down the ingredients needed and sharing strength — it’s Magnus who has been expending all of his energy and energy to the very brink. 

Well, Magnus and half a dozen other warlocks but only he and Cat worked the three days continuously. 

They were the only ones who could.

“I’m fine sweetheart. All I needed was a night of rest and you, safe in my arms.”

“I still think you should have let me give you a massage last night.” Alexander murmurs with a pout and Magnus laughs, pressing his fingertips to Alexander’s mouth in a gentle kiss.

“It either would have turned into something neither of us had the energy for, or you would have fallen asleep half on top of me, darling.” Magnus can’t help how soft his tone goes, “we were both spent, Alexander. You’re the only reason Cat didn’t insist on coming home with me, normally she puts her foot down when we encounter a disease like this.” Magnus winks, “she doesn’t normally trust me not to try and immediately research how it happened. However she trusts that you’re a sufficient distraction.”

“Still—” is all Alexander says, a deep yearning in his voice, “you deserve to be taken care of. Especially with how much you take care of everyone else.”

“You’ll find I take plenty care of myself, especially when I’m given a good reason to.” Magnus gives a playful smirk because Alexander knows that he’s the reason Magnus is alluding to and his boy laughs, tender and sweet and Magnus aches with it.  

“Then I’ll need to find a way to stick around then, just to make sure.” 

Magnus’ breathe hitches with want, because they’ve slowly been talking about this and Magnus can’t deny Alexander’s sincerity anymore.  No one who goes to talk to the Council of Elders and some of the oldest members of the shadowworld — who requested and paid the costs of asking to feel some of the best and worst emotions associated with immortality — is insincere. 

Alexander means it.

His devotion is steadfast and his love unwavering, his trust all encompassing when it comes to Magnus and Magnus feels both ravenous and also hesitant. 

Yet how can he disrespect the adoration and devotion that he’s invoked by merely being himself, when Alexander is so guileless about it. When Alexander has made lists of places he wants to visit with Magnus, the greenhouses and gardens he wants to tend to himself when he’s retired, the fact that Alexander wants to retire.

That his beloved wants to leave the clave better than before, but leave it all the same. The day when he will step away from the burdens and responsibilities of his people and family and belong wholly to himself and to Magnus.

Alexander wants to learn and study and travel and love but he wants to only do it with Magnus and that is a treasure Magnus never realized he’d been taught could never be his. Yet to dismiss it would be to invalidate the love given him and well, Magnus would be both cruel and a fool to do that. 

And while sometimes in his long life, Magnus knows he’s been both — though rarely at the same time. It would take an act of befuddlement from his own father for Magnus to act foolishly or cruel with something so delicate concerning both Alexander’s and his own heart.

“I suppose we will.” Magnus murmurs and he summons the flower crown to his hands and gently places it on Alexander’s brow. He admires how the lavender and mauve petals look against Alexander’s features and then he blinks.

Wisteria means many things but the colors Alexander asked for, the type of flower that he normally lets Magnus pick… they mean things.

Devotion that can transcend even death. 

Longevity which implies immortality, though all things can die no matter how long they’ve lived.

“You’re a sly man when you want to be, Alexander.” Magnus murmurs, voice unrepentantly indulgent as Alexander smirks at him. There is a pleased turn to his lips and his eyes gleam with both relief and love and Magnus wants to disappear with him for at least a week.

There’s a cottage in the grove.

Nothing too elaborate but comfortable enough — Ragnor would never have helped maintain it otherwise — and it’s the perfect place for a simple weekend of intimacy. Magnus can teach Alexander to fish as he learned as a boy and he can watch Alexander with amusement when his darling shadowhunter shows off and shoots the fish with arrows and then dives for them. 

Apparently, it was quite a habit for Alexander to go to the ocean in the dead of night with his runes activated, unseen by mundanes as he practiced hunting by shooting fish and then diving for them. 

They can replant the small garden around the cottage and Magnus can teach and show Alexander some of the hybrids he and Cat and Ragnor have created and tended to over the centuries. 

“Sometimes, my love—” and Magnus pauses, adding another layer of protective magic to both Alexander and his crown, “I cannot understand how we came to be.”

Alexander understands him, if the sudden sheen to his eyes means anything.

They’ve both been horribly broken by life and shattered by people supposed to love them yet somehow,despite all the odds they found and have kept and fought for each other.

It’s a beautiful but daunting mystery and one Magnus never needs solved. 

After all, no matter how or why they met, it’s the two of them alone that have made this work.

[redfurrycat]

💕Know Your Tumblr Friends💕

Tagged by @callsign-crow, @itshoneywhatever, @mafiatsunafish, @merryandrewsworld, @perishablealex, @renai-chan in different versions of the tag game, so I just took all the questions and answered them all in one post, if ya don't mind, you lovely souls! 💕

*

Name? Starts with a P. It's a pretty common name where I’m from. (But you can call me Red here 😉)

Were you named after anyone? Nope.

Pronouns? She/her.

Where do you call home? Belgium.

Sign? Aries.

Time? 11h49 (I’m HUNGRY.) (Update. I ate and it was fries and homemade burger).

Fav band/artist? Hans Zimmer (composer). But I love many other composers! I don’t exactly have a fav band or artist as it’s not the kind of music I listen to (OST-Forever-Girl).

Do you have kids? No. I don’t want kids right now, I’ll wonder about that muuuuuch later. (Although I’m a cat mom at the moment.)

Use sarcasm a lot? I do sarcastic quips all the time… xD

First thing you notice 'bout people? Their smile. :)

Eye color? Hazel Eyes.

Scary movies or happy ending? Happy Ending FOREVER.

Special talent? *blank* (Too hungry to think of one... xD)

Your hobbies? To talk about something NOT related to fandom, I like Sudoku and Word scrambled games.

Any pets? It may be shocking to all of you, but I have a she-cat. A red she-cat. *grinning*

First pet? Twas a hamster….:D

Favorite animal? I love felines and birds of prey VERY MUCH.

Cereal of choice? As a kiddo it was Miel Pops, now I do the healthier version of honey cereals when I do eat cereals. And I occasionally eat oatmeal as well.

Are you visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner? All three of them, depends on what is it I’m learning.

Playing any sport? Used to be tennis. Now I do walking and running, and I’d love to swim again!!!

How tall..? Small bean of 1m58.

Favourite subject in school? Latin in secondary school, and my American and British Literature at Uni, as well as all my Law and Judiciary classes. Instructive, especially because I now understand the related news.

Dream job? I don’t even know anymore… I’m completely lost. ☹

Favorite scent? honey and lavender, and strawberry.

Do you believe in astrology? Absolutely not. "Not in any god, not in myths and legends." (Although it’s pretty cool to read about myths and legends! :D *mythology nerd*)

How many playlists do you have on spotify/apple music? 0 because I refuse to use spotify or apple music. :D

Sharpies or highlighters? Both are good!

Song that makes you cry? Songs don’t usually make me cry. However, OSTs do. I’m HIGHLY sensitive to Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron/The Last Samurai/LOTR OSTs.

Last song? Dela by Johnny Clegg (That’s right baby, GEORGE OF THE JUNGLE SONG! :D)

Last series? still ER! (I mean there are 15 seasons or so, and I’m watching season 5)

Last movie? I was in the middle of ‘While you were sleeping’ but couldn’t finish due to stellar internet connection. :(

Song that makes you happy? Ain’t Worried by OneRepublic, Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins, and the Rickrolling Song! xD

Do you write/draw/create? Don’t EVER ask me to draw. I’ve started to write, which I’m still surprised about, I guess you could say I create some Top Gun content as well? Like silly posts about my fav pilots! :D

Currently working on? My Cheerleading Top Gun Sideblog. I’m still in the building process but it’s been fun so far! I discovered or rediscovered REALLY amazing content!!! :O <3 Writing-related? Dr. Goose Bradshaw Series. YUP. THAT’S RIGHT. 😉

When did I create this blog? Dunno…2013/14?

What I post? I reblog A LOT. And I LOVE adding to posts when inspiration strikes! xD Right now? I’ve posted several Top Gun  Recs Lists. (Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick have bewitched me body and soul!)

Other blogs? The Sideblog I was previously talking about can be found at @timetobuzzthefandomtower.

Do I get asks? Very occasionally 😊 (Though I don’t check it very often, so very sorry to anyone who might have sent something, I promise I’ll get back to you!!! <3)

Followers? 246?! (Holy Shit. When did that happen??????? I’ve never checked before! :O)

Average hours of sleep? 8 hours is the best for me, but I sleep less than that I’m sure.

Instruments? Fuck that. I hated the music class during HS. :O 

What I'm wearing rn? Short & T-Shirt. All comfy clothes.

Dream trip? New Zealand. Seems very far away, almost unachievable! xD And, the Vikings Lands. I. WANT. TO. GO. THERE. <3

Favourite song at the moment? Fake ID from Footloose :D

*

NO PRESSURE TAGS!!!

@auprintempss, @bradleybonkbradshaw, @captainclaudeandthehiddenlogs, @hardballoonlove, @missathlete31, @nanny-sc, @scottishaccentsareawesome, @skiddit, @the-ace-with-spades.

I know there are A LOT of questions, feel the heck free to choose which ones you want to answer, IF you want to of course! Have the sweetest of days! <3

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through 033: 'Twas the Season (ASM 165-166, What If 1)

MASTERPOST

In this issue...

*sigh*

A dinosaur. And the Lizard! Brittany S. Pierce would be... very gleeful.

However, we also get great development for Peter, MJ and Flash and THAT's at least worth something.

And also...

Spidey accidentally runs into a secret SHIELD building and chases a dinosaur, but misses him.

Gorgeous panels. Meanwhile, at the Connors's...

Stegron! How I missed you, my dear Stegron! (Said no one ever.)

MEANWHILE! In the street!

I think they should kiss. They should kiss to make MJ jealous. THEY SHOULD SOOOO DO THAT. And I should write it. Should I? I should!

At E.S.U., we get more development concerning Jameson and his mysterious scientist. Turns out Dr Madison doesn't hold much against Spidey, but she doesn't like how he's above law. So she's kinda me when I was playing Persona 5.

Gorgeous page! Once again with the wind and the leaves, like just before the Gwen clone plot kickstarted!

I like that they finally discuss what they are, it's been a long time coming. They think about doing a break...

That's a fun way to break the scene!

Peak comedy.

Meanwhile, Stegron's having the time of his life.

SEE, THAT'S WHAT COMMUNICATION DOES! MAKES EVERYTHING EASIER!

Anyway, stuff happens, and...

Just because I love the purple pants doesn't mean I have to enjoy this plot.

Given that the two issues mention preparing for Christmas several times, I can only assume Peter's birthday is in December.

Anyway, Spidey reassures Mrs Connors, and Dr Madison meets up with Jameson.

Slay. I also really love her outfit.

Anyway, she uncovers a Spider-Slayer... Oh, Jameson, how many times have you tried, now? He never learns his lessons!

Do I sense a Gloria/Randy romance? Why not, especially if that means we get to see more of them!

So anyway, we're on full Christmas mode, right there. How soul crushing it must be for Peter to say he won't be able to spend Christmas with his friends! I was going to say family, but Aunt May hasn't been mentioned in a while (thankfully, let her be in lesbians with Anna). You can just feel how bitter Peter is.

And Harry and Liz announce they're going to marry! Oh, uh. Okay. I guess it was very quick in these times, and publication-wise, it has been a while, but dear Lord, they're quick! I guess it makes sense, with how romantic they were, last batch. MJ's surely gonna feel more stressed about that, now...

...

Anyway. One really cool thing in the battle is that the Lizard takes the time to save Connors' child. I love those moments!

Spidey gets there, makes Connors human again, then goes off to fight Stegron.

We do get great shots, but I'm really not into all of this.

Connors successfully reverses the Dinosaur Revival Beam, and they return to bones. It's nice to see Connors actively help Spidey!

What a dumbass.

At least, this is a great page! It's actually excellent. It's a saving grace, we shall say.

This is nice, but WHAT ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS, PETE? NO EPILOGUE FOR THEM?

THIS IS SAD.

Time for the first What If issue! What if Spidey joined the Fantastic Four?

The issue starts with The Watcher introducing the idea, just like he introduced the last issue of the Phoenix Saga.

Hm!

He's supposed to be, like, 15.

It's fun to see this remade. This issue's obviously partly an excuse to redraw their fateful meeting, but with a different artist, given that it replays a lot of the same beats.

That's nice to see!

The Fantastic Four raise issues, but one is given more weight--the fact that Spidey keeps his identity secret.

Oh!

...He doesn't look like a wallflower with this artstyle, hahaha. Next, Peter recounts his history and retcons himself as a beautiful hunk and not as the nerd he most definitely was.

Anyway, the FF present their newest member at a press conference and...

That's actually very interesting! The Chameleon ends up not doing anything. Instead, the Vulture takes his place!

That's sad.

Later, the Invisible Girl gets jealous of Spidey, who's on an adventure with their teammates while she stays behind and watches over them. And while they're on a dangerous mission, she gets seduced by Namor (the Submariner). This is to retell an early adventure of the FF.

This is nice, but not that interesting to me once it really goes into the FF retelling.

Next time: More of Spectacular Spider-Man! I'm curious to see that.

[mnovenia]

Day 6 & 7 in Korea - 1 & 2 Aug 2023

Day 6 in Korea - 1 Aug 2023 (It's a brand new month)

Woke up trying to forget what happened last night, Bella just said kopark mabok banget ya, and i was like whatever, let's not talk about it. Idk this part of culture the drinking part, if it's acceptable even in church's perspective.

WRC begin that day, we're heading to Dr Robbin's near church to eat with our Bali Camp leader. I dragged all my suitcases along, and ate the best pumpkin soup ever. Kwonsanim treated us, gave me precious alba mask and said: you're always seem so positive, cheerful, sincere, and bright. Even we didnt manage to talk a lot during the camp, but I can tell your character :""") aduh mo nangis gak sih, inget Marsh the glory belongs to God alone, not a single thing is from your effort OK! be humble. Then Bu anita who's thoughtful brought a very delish cake from Paris Baguette as it's Kwonsanim's birthday. She shared about her kids who's grown up and why i still havent married lol. They planned to drive me to airbnb, so nice of them but i said im ok w taxi because I believe they all have other schedule. Bella was also having another meeting, i was wishing she'd join me as i nervous but nevermind, she called a taxi, i spoke to the gisanim who's kind. I politely said i didn't plan to go to gonghaeng, but pls just follow the address. He said: of course i knew you're a foreigner etc and spoke kindly to me, drove me to the closest part of my air bnb and gave me a bit of discount to. Hehe thank you God i survived again in this country with your guidance. I managed to open the room well, with fancy door, smelly old dark building just like in the drama and it's actually in the area of Lotte where i went with Bella droven by taekyun oppa last year. So I settled down, bought water etc to 711, but twas the hottest day ever 34 derajat till i was so exhausted. I bought water, coffee, snacks, refill my t card and the ahjumma was so nice, saw me with pity and treated me nicely. Praise God, everywhere I go, God brought light at the back of my head kynya, that people can only see the good in me and trying to be kind :'') that's when I realize geu bitchero that I have to share to the world.

Then I rested for a bit, was so tempted to not going WRC because it's only for a while and I had to take bus for the 1st time n a bit afraid. Anyhow, in the heat I managed to go, found Yewon church, stopped at KBS, Ibu Anita already messaged me, I know I was late going n trying to figure out the bus etc, Bella was worried too n asked me to take taxi instead but nope.

I arrived and listened to Luvim: Love. Idk why I felt a bit emotional, a bit lonely and loveless when I live alone. Everybody (my bali camp team too busy with their lives and can't always entertain me, etc). Maybe that how God wants to teach me ya, it's lovely to be surrounded by family and friends. However, if i think about it know, i shouldn't bersungut2 and just keep going cheerfully, enjoy a bit of loneliness and having own time. I didn't know that even in a week God can changed the whole situation and gave me the best memory in Korea, nomu sarang sereopta :)

It was a nice time with kwonsanim, Jihoon, ci Yenni, Salomo, etc. It was an opening ceremony so we watched online and sing together. I sat at the 3rd culture group. Afterwards around 9 everybody is leaving, so is ci Yenny etc, but I decided to have fun uhuhhuyy..

I went to Ehwa Hospital where Hospital Playlist scenes was taken. It felt like a dream come true HAHAHA, naik haji drakor mania. Twas such a nice memory, I took videos on my own, walking around even though it's dark etc. I wish next time I can come back with someone I like that can know about hospital and can show me around ;) Amen..

Then I headed home cheerfully, so freely like nothing is chasing me. I jumped to the bus and i saw kim seok jin's face (sticker) next to where I sat. hehe.. I make a video about a day in my life, then I went to pyenajeom GS near air BnB. I saw ik jun face everywhere, at mask brand, fried chicken brand (I sent to Jentya), I bought doosirak, kobuk chips, drinks, kimbap, honey butter chips OMO so good. If i weren't in IF program I'd ate rightaway. That's all, I managed to spend 1 night in my air b&b, so quiet and nice and adjusted well. Thank you so much Lord for protection and everything.

[era404-skib]

.[Does that mean we win?!] /JOKING /JOKING

Twas great while it lasted! I had alot of fun too however today my rush of sudden art inspo for this saga went wughghfhrhhd as it usually does whenever I get a burst of inspo haha

One day skibidi tumblr will probably reassemble into another war like this, but until then, I've fought enough LMAO

Good luck with college and hopefully your wrist gets better soon!!

Okay, real talk here for a moment. This has all been very fun and hilarious to do and partake in for the past week! I enjoyed making such a chaotic and fun little event for all of you to have fun with! But I'm starting to get too stressed out and my drawing wrist is starting to cramp up something fierce. Not only that, I'm getting a laundry list of OC's and such people want Dilfed and it's starting to become overwhelming for me personally. Plus, my inbox is getting flooded and I have not been tending to it because of the DILF/MILF event. So from this moment forward, I'm stepping down as the DILFERATOR'S leader. It's getting a bit too much and I'll be heading back to college after next week, so I don't wanna get too stressed out before I do. If i do more "dilfs" of characters, I'll do them in my own time and at my own pace. Regardless, I had fun and it was hilarious while it lasted! You all can keep up the dilfing and such if you want, but this blog is just gonna go back to answering asks and writing for a while. Have fun!! <: )

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

🐒25 Dec '22🚴‍♀️🦴

Twas the night before christmas Louis' birthday when suddenly I recalled- I sat bolt up in shock- I'd forgotten a promise to yall! It was a christmas day, you see, back in 2018, that Simon Cowell dramatically demonstrated exactly how brilliant he is when thinking things up all on his own rather than taking credit for a woman's ideas- he would be starting a new band he said, of CGI monkeys!! One of them would be modelled after Harry Styles! Sadly someone slapped him out of whatever drugged stupor led to telling the press about that brainstorm, and we never heard about it again... except from me, who had made a vow to Never Forget and to bring it up every xmas forever and ever (because I can only assume Simon would hate that.) He still hasn't learned though, just this year he hyped up an AI deepfake of himself made with that very same technology- he really just so transparently wants a band without any pesky rebellious humans in it, yikes. The fact is, the man is a clown all year every year, so may I present… a 2022 review!

Sadly, the year's biggest Cowell news was but a hoax- he did not in fact die, yet. However, he did lose a tooth, get COVID, and fall off his electric bike and end up in the hospital AGAIN, proving that ill wishes (mine) can come true to some extent! And not to worry, there's still hope for next year- apparently he still bikes around without a helmet daily. A recent TV appearance had his fans (??! sounds fake but okay) "distracted by his incredibly smooth visage"- allegedly his botox and other modifications got to the point that his son was "in hysterics" at the site of him, a clever turn of phrase that implies tears but could also mean he was laughing his ass off- me too kid, me too. Although The Sun continue to print only flattering and respectful articles- almost as if they had some kind of relationship or agreement with him?! wow this is Brand New Information- the Daily Mail definitely got the brief that tis the season for making fun of Cowell, and have been running an endless series of articles about his "many faces through the years" and "melting mug". They were denied the opportunity with his most recent TV appearance however, as he did that interview with a shadow strategically cast across himself like a low tech witness protection gambit. Perhaps, I thought, some of the issue was with the confusing and scary sounding 25 pound face masks he was reportedly doing, but it turned out that was merely an audio based misunderstanding- it was sponcon for a £25 face mask, boring.

He continues to talk up his son in interviews, bragging that the kid is a great talent spotter and he "leans on him" for opinions (that I can believe) but if you're skeptical that Simon would actually let himself be upstaged, you're quite right! Consider: he also had some things to say about what his cancelled show The X Factor would look like if it came back. The tabs report that he "is adamant that the judges should be industry insiders such as A&R people rather than artists because they are better judges of talent and less jealous of bright young artists.” Sounds like SOMEONE is jealous all right but it's not an artist judge! I think we all remember who stole the show and the hearts of multiple nations- not to mention those of scores of allegedly straight men- on the last season of TXF while spotting and nurturing the talent who went on to win it all, all while making fun of Simon at every opportunity: yes indeed, it was bright young artist and Guest Judge Louis Tomlinson! Gosh who could have seen THAT coming? Possibly the actual visionary of TXF, Nicole Scherzinger, another guest judge who upstaged Simon- most recently when footage of her forming 1D was finally released on the 10th anniversary. She said she was surprised it had survived, that she assumed he had "burned it" (to bolster his decade long lie that it was he who had had the world-changing idea.) But no, she says, in fact it was "the way that my mind grapes were working" which is, um, a very weird way of putting that, but it WORKED OUT GREAT so who am I to quibble with the way her grapejuice flows.

Meanwhile just when you thought we were free of NFT type annoyances Zayn invited us to join the metaverse, no thank you, but get that cash babe and a happy holidays to you and to all our boys: to Liam, acting like he has to make up for the few months off the radar by posting an equivalent amount of insta stories before the end of the year, to Niall, taking a break from taking over tiktok to tease about how busy he'll be next year, to Harry, dousing himself in freezing water in the UK while pap pics of him in LA were dropped, and to Louis, 31 (!!) now and hopefully with some wonderful plans over his long awaited break before another jam packed year of winning. And to all out there, a very let me be your good night and all the love!

[definedvines]

so uh confession, i did get a ryuji print signed by max for his last online signing, and it was fun to be there while he did it, twas nice to hear him say hi to me :) however. when he showed it to the camera it was blurry and unfocused so i dont know at all what he wrote on it. i just told him to "write something silly" so it will be a surprise i guess. will update when it arrives

[husbandohunter]

The Calamity in our Stars [Sentient AU! Genshin Impact x Isekai!Reader] Part 1

Synopsis: Knowing all of the events of Genshin Impact you were sucked into their world with the power of awareness. Anyone who touches your hand will realize the truth, breaking the fourth wall.

(When the guys find out they're in a video game)

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya Albedo

Heads up: a bit lore heavy

"Dear anon who requested this, I accidentally deleted your ask when trying to remove the unfinished version!!! But I remember your sentences, big brain scenarios are so much fun to write, thank you for your request~"

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~Introduction~

In the world of Teyvat, the sky was a lie and the frauds were the gods. History repeats the story of mankind's arrogation and how it knows no limits stemmed by their unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Hence, to protect the heavens, the gods concealed the truth as much as they could. 

‘Twas the will of the Supreme Ruler that commanded all of Khaenri’ah to be punished with the power of every divine for breaking their laws. The gods did it for peace but what is peace in lies and destruction? Peace is an illusion, a dreamland-- and those who once dreamt of dreaming were determined to shatter through it’s deceitful walls. 

Two stars hailing from worlds afar, together they were inseparable, now they stand on opposite ends. The first being Lumine, she who woke up into the fall of Khaenri’ah five centuries ago has claimed the Abyss under her rule. She led the mages and waged war against humanity, her heart too broken to recognize hope once more. Lumine did it for justice yet her actions only brought more injustice to the innocent civilians living in Freedom’s city. She will continue to create nightmares across the lands, with her own hands, as if, trying to bury the naivety she used to have. Justice for unjust. If she can’t be happy, if her people can’t be happy, then no one else deserves to be happy either. 

Then there was Aether, the fortunate twin, the star who still kept his light. He pursues a path full of righteousness and fights for those in need. Despite the glory he earned, Aether only had one simple wish-- to see Lumine again, his precious other half. And when he did, he looked into her golden eyes to see all that he couldn’t. Aether slayed many dangerous beasts, defeated an ancient god, saved Liyue and saved all of mankind, however, he couldn’t save a broken heart. What did she experience that changed her so much? Why was she so adamant about destroying the heavens? If he had to travel to the ends of the earth to understand the pain she went through then he would do it in a heartbeat. He will do anything to bring back that luminous glow which once danced in her eyes. All for Lumine, everything for his sister.

Through your computer screen you watched the whole scenario play out between the siblings, from start to finish, after ten years Mihoyo finally decided to draw the conclusion to their story. Like their previous games it was always a tragic ending. The hero falls in front of the Supreme Ruler, bleeding all over as he grabs onto his sword for support. She smiles down at him sinisterly with a dark orb pulsing by her fingertips and says,

"At last, your journey ends here outlander. It was a mistake for you to try and defy our laws."

Your heart beats loudly in your chest, a hand gripping tightly around your mouse in anticipation. Over the course of time you've grown to love each and every character. Their sadness was your sadness and their joy was your joy. You couldn't help but feel useless while watching Aether struggle in his final moments. Despite all that he went through, was this his outcome? Is this all you could do?

"No…" the blonde boy denies, "What Lumine said, I think I understand now. She wasn't doing it to kill you, she was doing it to protect us," his voice cracks at the mention of his sister's name, "But you killed her…!"

The Supreme Ruler, Asmoday, remained indifferent to the boy's grief. The same expression she had when she took Lumine's life.

"That's why I'm going to put an end to this cycle, not for me. For her," Aether declared, the hilt of his held sword shaking in the process, "I'm going to reweave the strings of fate and break through these walls. Even if it erases my existence."

Your eyes burst open. Aether turned his head. Gold. He was looking directly your way.

I'm counting on you.

With a roar from his mouth, Aether channels all his energy into the sky and forms a crack in it's void. The space around you begins to spiral out of control simultaneously. No time to protest and no time to scream, you were sucked into your computer with nothing but your clothes. The air whips around your face from the impact of the deafening force of gravity as you were falling right into a river.

Starfell Lake's river.

Coughing a few times you climbed upon the cliffs, "What...on earth," and saw a familiar city in front of you. It's beauty was breathtaking, something you've always wished to see up close, until you remembered where you came from, "Mondstadt? Wait! This can't be."

And that's when you realized that you were thrown into a world against your will and the only way out was to finish what was started.

{Diluc}

Fate was something Diluc thought bore no meaning when life was meant to be taken by one's own hands. He sincerely believed he already found his own purpose, fighting against evil while living for the sake of surviving and abandoning things that were deemed unnecessary even at the cost of his own happiness. Diluc wanted to find meaning in all his misfortunes, knowing that only those who triumph through darkness can see the dawn.

Henceforth, the sun arrives. When he reached the top of Starnatch Cliff, Diluc saw you for the very first time. Like a sighing breath the wind cascades along your hair as you turn around slowly, your wondrous gaze taking his. It’s Diluc, the Darknight Hero!!! He couldn’t understand your prolonged staring, though he was guilty of it as well. You had a distinct aura that he couldn’t describe through words, your eyes were distant like the galaxies itself with a little bit of enigma. He was good at judging first impressions, a skill he developed through his lone ventures and among the prestigious people he met, you were the only one who was able to entrance him in a single glance.

Erm, what should I say? A greeting? How do you greet someone in Teyvat...you scattered your brain for any references you could find and formed an eloquent yet awkward sentence, “Greetings good sir, how do you do today!”

Diluc returns his signature unimpressed look. You sweatdropped, remembering that he was the type to dislike idle chit chat. But before you could leave the conversation, he adds in and tells you, “Nothing to complain about. However, I have never seen anyone in Mondstadt wearing your kind of attire. Where are you from?”

Ah, he was suspicious of you. Very much like Diluc indeed.

Although Diluc intended to keep an eye on you, as he would on any unfamiliar figure that could be a potential threat, he easily falls prey to your unparalleled friendliness. Most people would shy away from the Master Diluc as his atmosphere can be suffocating at times but you treat him like anyone else, like he wasn’t a noble to begin with. You somehow knew exactly what to say during the times he needed to hear those words the most. About his father, about his life. It was as if you understood him, completely, even more than himself.

In return he looks at you with reverence. Perhaps you were an old childhood friend he had long forgotten. What other can explain this deep rooted connection he felt? Or perhaps there is a possibility that fate did exist after all.

But in a way you were just as distant. While you were so open to knowing the world around you, your face still hid a glimpse of a lost soul trying to find something, especially when you looked at the stars. Diluc couldn’t help recognize that similar emotion. Like sailing through the unknown sea, trying to find a lighthouse, a destination, questioning why you were here in the first place. Just like he was questioning all his events. Why were you so hesitant when talking about your home? Why did you seem sad when mentioning where you received your powers? Why do you always flinch as he tries to hold your hand? Didn’t you tell him that you also felt the same way?

“I’m sorry Diluc,” you sadly apologized, remembering what Dainsleif said in his collected miscellany, if Diluc saw what he saw and what you saw then it would most definitely shake his resolve. Even so the guilt of lies eventually consumes you, “You deserve to know the truth.”

When you cupped your soft hands over his calloused ones, a wave of memories flash through his head. All the things he couldn’t understand, now he knows why. He finally found the answer to everything he ever questioned in the cruelest, devastating and defeating way possible.

His life was a game.

Diluc leans against the wall in quiet exasperation, clutching his red locks against his face, the frightened man says, “All of this...for nothing?”

Nothing. Nothing was his reply. Nothing to gain in his suffering-- the experience between his adopted brother and him nor was there any significance in his father’s sacrifice. The reason why you acted the way you were was because he was just a character in a setup for someone’s own selfish entertainment. That his feelings didn’t matter to begin with. Did they ever matter? He already tried to discard them a long time ago but they rushed back like drowning in the stormy sea, blood pulsing through his veins as his expression switched from disbelief to anger. Every thought and every comforting advice you’ve said was because…

“You knew about this,” he whispered, disheartened. His trust broken, mind awoken as he kept the words that were left unspoken. Because he still cared about you regardless even if: you’re one of them.

“No I-” I didn’t mean to. Your mouth stops short before spilling out your sentence. Was that really felt? Or a veil to live in a dreamland? The purpose of playing a game was to entertain yourself, the more the characters went through turmoil the more interesting the story became. Did you really care about Diluc? Or you pitied him because he was a tragic hero and you thought you could save him just to satisfy your own worth as a self-proclaimed hero?

Since then Diluc was never the same again. He was once a passionate man holding justice and value close to his heart. Now as if the flames had been stamped out, he acted indifferently. He questioned everything, the denial in him searching for a spark yet not even a flicker. That his venture through the darkness did not end with dawn, there was no dawn, only infinite nothingness.

Diluc knew one solution to all of this-- revenge. To the false gods who brought upon his misfortunes and those sentient beings that stringed it all together. And you. You? A part of him still reasons that it wasn’t entirely your fault as you were also a victim to their cause but he couldn’t be too sure anymore. He couldn’t trust anyone. He was torn apart and nothing could fix that.

Sometimes you wonder if what Aether did was the right decision. If he truly believed that only the truth would set you free. But then why did it trap you in a prison of regret?

{Kaeya}

Kaeya denies fate, continuously, with every breath he takes. But fate does not deny him.

He wondered if he ever had a choice in life. The Prince of Khaenri’ah wears his crown like chains made of bones and flesh, out from his dead ancestors who failed to exact their vengeance. You are our last hope, the weight of his father’s palm rests upon his head when he said those dutiful words, a reminder of who he is. Kaeya became stranded alone in this vast land of freedom. Freedom. Does that mean he was free? No, his hoe never left him to begin with, it stays in his mind, it echoes through the last memory of his father, it runs in his veins. Freedom was a wish, a dream and like his ancestors, he was cursed to continue dreaming of this dream.

That is why Kaeya lives everyday through short pleasures and alcohol as if they were a daring adventure. He cared less of the consequences that came with it. Everything was going to be temporary anyways so mind as well enjoy them while they last.

Behind the screen you always took the initiative to search for the Cavalry Captain but the current situation demands a different outcome. He was meant to be avoided. Kaeya is capable of great intelligence and the last thing you wanted was for him to find out that you were a suspicious visitor with no identifiable background roaming near the Favonius Headquarters. Though your presence was quite noticeable due to the attire you wore and somehow he found his way over to your space in his usual sneaky manner.

“Ah what a pleasant surprise. You must be the new traveller everyone in Mondstadt has been talking about these days,” Kaeya speaks charmingly, a singular eye sharpening out of mischief, “What brings you here? Certainly it must be tiring to venture off from your distant homeland.”

Amusement is what had drawn him to you. He found you hard to read and your actions unpredictable, Kaeya wanted to make a game out of it. How long will it take for that mask of yours to break until your true self has been revealed? After all, everyone hides behind a mask in one way or another, in order to survive. He knew that better than anyone. It was how he lived his whole life. It was what he, himself, had to do in order to survive.

Because everything that happened to his past relationship with Diluc was shattered from the truth.

Then why is he so obsessed with revealing others?

Well, misery loves company.

But in your company Kaeya made the mistake of allowing himself to get too involved. The heart wants what it wants no matter how much he tries to shield it away. Like a delectable drink he fell deeply into the spell of intense infatuation, the way you showed yourself without remorse. Oftentimes he would take advantage of someone’s spilled secrets however he couldn’t bring himself to do the same here. You were similar to him, that you both share a burdened responsibility. He could hear it in your tone, he could tell by your body language and he could catch the hidden remarks of what he assumes to be about your homeland. Just like him, you were trying to find ways to distract yourself from your responsibilities. Unlike him, you did it in ways that he would have never thought of. Your eyes still held hope for a brighter future which expanded to the horizon he couldn’t even see. You believed through every turmoil there was a light at the end of the tunnel and like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to your light.

The warmth of your hand he takes, became one of his worst decisions later on.

“Ha…”

Staggering back, Kaeya simply laughs, mouth parting to reveal a set of brilliant white teeth. He knew it. All of the events happening in his life, every single one of them were stringed together for some grand scheme. He constantly wondered, why did the stars choose him? And for what reason? To be a hero? Or a villain? To be anything at the very least just no this. Kaeya was relieved that he finally had some sort of answer but at the same time, distraught to know he was a means to an end. He once thought he would be stuck in a long battle against fate. Though it seems fate had already won the game.

You never saw Kaeya again. Or rather, he chose to keep his distance again.

The Cavalry Captain spends his days in deep thought while sipping his drink. Even Diluc began worrying to the point he pushed himself to approach his brother despite not being on very good terms. Instead of answering him, Kaeya pushes him away, noticeably, it was unlike his usual slick manner. The truth had always damaged Kaeya and he should have known better to cut ties with you sooner before the whole thing happened. Was there any point in carrying out his father’s will? Was there any point in being a spy? Was there....any point in thinking of an answer to all his questions?

For the first time in the longest he cries. The man drops to his knees before hunching forward, letting his tears stain the floor. Someone must be watching behind the screen as he was in this pathetic state, someone must be writing his next move and every outcome. It didn't matter to him anymore. Kaeya already gave up long ago.

{Albedo}

What is the truth of the universe?

To Albedo, the question was not only a formula that must be solved but served as the last memory of his Master before she left him alone. Eventually, that memory became the center of his universe.

Who am I? What am I? Why am I here?

Albedo observed the branch in his grasp. Plants grow when they are nurtured by the sun and children grow as their parents guide them through life’s experiences. Nature and nurture. The law he didn’t belong in. Just like the leyline branch he held he was a force created by unnatural usage of alchemy, however, a part of him yearns for that companionship. Perhaps this was the reason why he was so obsessed with the universe? His Master had high expectations over Albedo whenever she gave him an assignment and would leave if he were to fail. Hence completing his task would prompt her to come back. After all, any child wants the presence of their parent and Albedo was no exception to that.

The alchemist relentlessly searches. Even obtaining some achievements and high praise from the Knights but none of that mattered to him when his purpose was greater than the tasks they had given. He went through every book, every place, every trench of Dragonspine’s wrath. Still, he couldn’t find the answer. Albedo would sometimes ponder that his Master purposely gave him an impossible assignment as an excuse of some sort. Not to abandon him but allow him the freedom to choose what it means to live a happy life. Yet a part of him believed he may never see her again because to this day, Albedo struggles to understand what a happy life is.

In the middle of his predicament, he stumbles upon your arrival.

“You carry the aura of the stars.”

There was no fooling him. Albedo immediately knew you were an outlander coming from a world that carries all his answers.

Chalk pursues gold, you recall what Dainsleif once said in the prophecy readings. If Albedo were to know too much then he’ll turn into the monster that once threw Khaenri’ah and all its people into dismay using his creations. So you refrained from telling him, thinking that you could change his fate and save him from that ending.

Of course, Albedo did not understand. Whatever caught his attention he was persistent to break it down. There was a time where he was close to bribing you with the possibility of helping you find your home but even to that offer, you resisted. Who would’ve thought a person can be so stubborn under no given reason. He felt somewhat irritated for once. Though, as an alchemist, Albedo knew there was a process for everything and he figured that he had to gain your trust first before diving into details.

It wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

So much effort was involved in connecting with people. How do you gain someone’s trust? Albedo consulted with Sucrose: it comes naturally. He went to the Acting Grandmaster for help: assist with the intent to care. He asked several more people he knew and they all boiled down to one principle: humanity. But what does it take to be human?

The more Albedo spent time with you, he somehow discovered a little more about himself. Like him, you also had no one to tell you or guide you through your journey as you searched for the reason why you were here. It was a lonely task, he knew that much when he realized how distant he grew from the others when he became too indulged in his research. At first loneliness was only a word by definition to describe his standpoint, now loneliness was a feeling when he looked at you. And it was through that loneliness he found what companionship meant-- to connect.

So he connects his hand with yours and knowledge consumes him.

The truth of this universe...is all just a game.

Just a game.

Albedo’s mind draws a blank as his eyes stare into space. Is that it? Throughout all his trial and errors, the effort he put in and the relentless hours to no rest for such an anticlimactic answer? This brand new feeling of awareness brought him to question himself, what role does he play as one of the key characters in the game? Why did the creators make him a monster in the first place? How did they create all this?

“Master, I have completed the assignment you gave me. About the truth of this universe it wasn’t what I expected to be,” he says to himself, red and purple veins pulsing around his body as he was transforming.

You couldn’t bear to look at him. It was too late. He went too far to be saved.

Within the last moments you slowly walked towards the alchemist, wrapping your arms around him in a solemn manner.

“I’m sorry that your Master left you like this.”

He finally understands the meaning behind his existence. What it means to feel, shed tears and be human. Why he was so fixated on a single goal. Master Rhinedottir was his only kin and all he wanted was to see her again. Hence he returns to your embrace, whispering that everything will be okay and that he has no regrets.

[barzzal]

fucking Sid in his range rover, feeling his calloused and big hands under your dress, gripping your ass, his lips between your breasts while your hand is on his soft curls, the pace is not super fast but he is so deep in you like you can clearly see and feel his passion and love, the air is so thick of it🍬

warnings: nsfw (18+) fluff, (kind of wholesome) smut, car / sort-of-public shenanigans, raw sex (wrap it up will u), breeding kink, established relationship, oh and a lot of kissing

you and sidney have always been so formal and well behaved in front of everyone you knew. pda wasn’t really a thing and that meant having to wait till you get home most of the time. however, tonight was one of those times where neither of you just couldn’t resist.

it was about half an hour when you locked eyes with sidney after having one of the usual dinner dates you, anna, and cath agreed to host alternately on weekends. it was cathy’s turn to host so everyone was rather thrilled because anna (mostly you) loved alex and victoria.

the letangs make it a point to send the kids to bed so everyone could have some adult time but you and anna just couldn’t resist their kids. how can you not fall for them anyway? they’re the best kids you know.

you didn’t really find the same connection you have with them outside of sidney’s closest friends. you’ve grown to love them dearly and alex is clearly fond of stealing his dad’s spotlight ever since the day he was born, but victoria— oh sweet girl, victoria.

sidney was just coming back from the garden to get some more beers when he sees you with kris’ youngest, obviously starting to fall asleep on your shoulder whilst you held her safely by your waist. the room was quiet with just you and the girls catching up with the usual work rants and the ‘husband mocking’ sessions you indulge yourselves with for when the boys hit the outside to even realize that the captain was in the same room as you were.

victoria, among all the other kids, was a lot more close to you and she has never failed to welcome you at the door every time you come visit. you loved her instantly and the way she calls you her only ‘fun’ aunt just makes your heart swoon and grow ten fold that it should be. the two of you have forged this entire new bond that neither of her parents could even understand so having her safely cuddled in your arms was no longer an issue. not that it ever was.

sidney couldn’t help but stare at you and admire you from afar. you see, the thought of having kids has always been present with you and sidney. you’ve talked about it a handful of times but the timing isn’t just right. it was either sid chasing more cups or you finally having the courage to leave your job and do the thing you actually love. your husband isn’t one to voice out his selfish thoughts but he’s always had this mental image of you with a child that’s utterly– and undeniably his.

he’s always pictured you bouncing his newborn baby lovingly in your arms, for afternoon naps perhaps— or early mornings where you just couldn’t resist holding her close to your heart. he’s already thought of it countless times and you have no idea how badly he wanted to have it with you; well, as i’ve said earlier, not until he locked eyes with you.

“are you sure about this?” sidney pants, the build up in his abdomen thickening by the second.

your sunday dress flowed just above your thighs while your husband’s calloused yet capable hands take resort to take a handful of your behind as you ride him at the back of his car.

“i am... sure.” you moan, letting his lips latch onto your neck pressing love bites as a response.

you were all over the place just as much as he was but neither of you gave a damn. it was past everyone’s bedtime in kris’ neighborhood but sidney couldn’t care less if the captain ever got caught filling his wife with his child in the range rover everyone in pittsburgh probably recognizes.

“y/n,” sidney mutters in between kisses, fighting the urge to explode inside you. not yet. not until you get to come before him.

“i know, baby.” you whimper near his ear, your hands running wild through his already messed up hair.

“i’m coming too.” you tell him.

your left hand dig on his chest as the other helplessy hold on his nape. the two of you chased your own highs in each other’s skin. sidney’s lips was nowhere else other than your all too perfect lips whilst his hips did most of the work for the two of you. you were fighting for air, he knows it. but he knew you didn’t want to let go of his lips either.

once you feel your arousal break loose, your hips jerk uncontrollably, searching for all that sid has to give you. even if this was just a spontaneous, aimless shot in the night for a kid you both longed for and wanted, the two of you didn’t care. you both knew nothing could ever happen unless you try — so, here it was. a shot at bearing sidney’s child.

“i fucking love you.” sidney fails to stop himself as he finally fills your cunt with his cum, balls in deep— thrusting hard to get it all in.

“i fucking love you.” you repeat, letting your head fall on the crook of his neck, not wanting to hop off of him nor take his length out of your void despite your already spent up state.

“you came baby?” sidney breaks when he recovers, removing some of your wild hair and tucking it at the back of your ear.

you honestly nod, “yeah, i did.” you assure him, cleaning up some lipstick stain on the side of his lips.

“good.” he says with an all too familiar smile. he lets his head fall back on the seat, catching his breath.

“that’s period one, right?” he kids, already thinking about finishing the last two at home. you chuckle despite being tired yourself.

“i know it’s late, but it’s still too early for bad jokes.” you retort, dodging another one of his awful hockey references.

“it’s bad? i thought ‘twas pretty funny.” he whines with a pout just like the child that he is.

but y/n, if only sidney knew, with all his terrible dad-jokes and sport references he has on his sleeves, he’s already there.

it’s wet weekends!

[starxscream]

Color-Coded Deck

“ Once again Rouxls challenges Swatch to a battle of wits- though this time it doesn't exactly go as planned. “

SwatchKaard fic!

Bc I saw that there were none and so I had to do smth about it, click the read more to view! (Also check it out on ao3 if it’s easier for y’all to read there!

It had been another long day at the cafe, working various loud-mouthed customers that seemed never ending in Castle Town.  Swatch has to wonder if moving out here was worth it, putting up with some of the patrons here almost made it not.  The bird sighs, making the final rounds while the swatchlings finish cleaning up for the night.  As the final chores and tasks are completed, Swatch excuses the swatchlings to head home and rest for tomorrow, staying behind to finish up the managerial paperwork.  There was always more work to do, and Swatch had no time to rest until it was completed.  Such was life.  The same routine that they were so accustomed to, it didn't truly bother them really.  In fact, Swatch enjoyed the brief moment of quiet and privacy of being alone in the cafe.

As the last swatchling exits, Swatch double checks the store before meandering towards to flip the sign from "open" to "closed".  However, as they move to flip the sign, there's a glowing flash of light, causing Swatch to lift his arm to block out the glare before it dissipates.  Oh no.  A feeling of knowing dread nestles in their gut.

Before Swatch can react, a blue hand rattles the door, pushing it against Swatch who had finally moved to try and hold it shut.  Of COURSE it just had to be him…

A loud shrill voice echoes through the crack in the door, "Greetings thou most commonest worm-avian! I haveth decided to graceth thine nighteth with thy presence!" Swatch inwardly groans, releasing the door and taking a step back to allow the other to dramatically swing it open and saunter through the now open doorway.

Rouxls Kaard.

Truly, could Swatch ever catch a break?

"What might you be doing here Kaard? Need I remind you that you have been banned from the premises."  Swatch crosses their arms across their chest, false niceties dripping off of their voice, trying not to let their impatience shine through.

Rouxls tuts, wagging a finger in the air, "That waseth at thou previousth establishmente, whiche waseth the highesteth forme of slandereth I haveth ever been subjectedeth too mindeth thou, howevereth, I haveth not been bannedeth here! So thy musteth allowth my graciouse presence to be bestowedeth upon thy grounds." A smug look sits on his face, chest puffed out proudly, 'sneakily' gesturing to the sign that was still flipped to "open".

Swatch resists rolling his eyes, a part of them wondering if Rouxls even knew the cafe's hours...probably not.  Though they supposed Rouxls was right, he had not been banned from this cafe.  Maybe he would be within the upcoming days, it was inevitable really, but for now he wasn't and Swatch was left with their hands full.  With a sigh, they consider trying to explain that to Rouxls, but they figure that Rouxls wouldn't listen to that...whenever the self acclaimed "duke of puzzles" set his mind on something there was no way to get him to listen to anything else.  Swatch knew that firsthand.

"Well, here you are then...arriving just as I was closing.  What can I do for you Kaard?" Swatch keeps it simple, but not without a small jab, moving his arms behind his back, standing straight with his beak perked up just slightly.  A mixture of professionalism and their own pettiness that made them want to show off how much better he was, especially around Rouxls.  They wouldn't admit it, but they did enjoy the competition that Rouxls consistently brought to their doorstep…that is, if you could call it a competition.

Grin widening, Rouxls whips out a foreign deck of cards, sauntering past Swatch, and slamming it down onto a nearby table.  Then he spins on his heel to face Swatch once again, face nearly splitting into two with how wide his grin was, and threads his fingers together.  Swatch raises a single eyebrow, gaze looking over the strange deck of cards, before looking back at Rouxls, awaiting whatever long-winded explanation that was about to be given.

“I have cometh to challengeth thee to a duelth of wits!” Rouxls makes a grand gesture towards the table, "Thoust three heroes bestowedeth upon thy a gift,” Meaning, Rouxls probably whined until they gave it to him, “A supremeth gifte thou shalt not be wastedeth!  I shall knocketh thou offeth thine pedestalth like a batteringeth rame knockingeth downeth thy castle doorsth! ” He motions for Swatch to sit down at one end of the table, waiting expectantly with shining eyes.  Swatch opts not to say that a battering ram knocks open doors and not off, but that was their petty side talking.

Inhaling deeply, Swatch slowly moves over to the seat, placing a hand on the seat and pulling it out.  Sure the polite thing to do was pull the seat out for Rouxls- as was their job, but they were not going to give Rouxls that satisfaction.  His eyes bore into Rouxls, half expecting the guy to pull out another handful of worms and run off, but he seemed much too invested in the task at hand.  Always with the games and puzzles that one, truly Swatch had to wonder how many times would Rouxls have to lose before he gives up?

“I foughte againsteth thy three heroes valiantlyth, takingeth thou on in thine own gameth.  Sucheth a nobleth duty of thy to do, no?” Rouxls laughs, swiftlying moving to the seat across from Swatch, “Twas a longe and arduousth battle of brainse, and beingeth thy generouse and benevolenteth soul thy am, could not beareth to standeth thy thoughte of thrashingeth thine darling water-beetle’s closesteth allies.  So I humbledeth thyself and allowedeth thine three hereos to besteth thy in battleth unscathedeth to spareth thine ailsth.”  Meaning, Rouxls utterly lost.

“So you...‘valiantly’ turned tail and came crawling to me instead?” Swatch lets out a quiet scoff, unable to keep it contained at Rouxls’ blatant attempt to save face when anyone who knew Rouxls would know better than to believe the theatrics he was spouting.  Easing himself into the chair, Swatch crosses his arms across his chest, “Alright then, I can spare a moment on your childish games.  Would you care to explain the rules of the game you have so dutifully brought to my doorstep while I was trying to close up shop for the night?  I would like to get this over with so that I may go home.”

Rouxls’ eyes narrow at Swatch, dramatically pointing across the table over at the bird, “Thou do not intimidateth me worm-avian!” Rouxls huffs, “Our battleth will be througheth the mighty gameth of what thy lightenereths call “Uno”!  Whereupon thy willeth finally proveth my titleth of butler supremeth over thy worm-avian!”  His point moves towards the deck, “Draweth foulest beast!”

Swatch makes no indication of moving, “I cannot draw if I do not know how to play, or are you resorting to needing unfair advantages to win?  Truly, I expected more from you...” The bird trails off, feigning a sigh, watching Rouxls’ face light up in a vibrant embarrassed flush.  He was so easy to read...it was kind of amusing really.  A small smirk etches onto Swatch’s face at the sight.

“Of couseth not! I wouldeth never bringeth thy illesteth omens upon thy nameth!  I haveth no need for sucheth ‘advantages’, thy willeth win no mattereth the circumstanceseth of oureth battleth as thy am thy grand duke of puzzles!”  Rouxls covers for his mistake quickly, moving to cover the back of his hand with his mouth, “As for thine rules…” He hesitates for a moment, thinking, “I...shalt not wasteth my time explaining! Thereth is rule cardeths for a reason!” The irony…  Rouxls paws at the deck, pulling out the card with the written words littered over its surface, before sliding it towards Swatch.

“Make haste! I do not haveth all nighte.” Rouxls puffs out his chest, arrogance dripping from his voice.  Swatch gives Rouxls a cold glare at his words, a part of them still bitter they were the one being kept up this fine night.  Quickly Swatch skims over the rules of this ‘Uno’ game, a simple color and symbol type of card game- first to get rid of all the cards in their hands wins.  Easy enough.

“Alright, daresay I believe that I am ready now.”  Swatch carefully sets the card back down on the table, reaching over to draw seven cards off of the top of the deck.  There was a wide arrangement of colors, mostly blue ironically, and a couple of special cards with effects that they would need to play strategically.  After Swatch draws his cards, Rouxls quickly follows suit, flipping over the top card to reveal a green number card to begin the game.

“With thy graciouseth self, I shalt allow thee to make thy first moveth!” Rouxls confidently announces, leaning forward with a tight grip on his cards.  Swatch rolls his eyes again, looking over his hand and rubbing the bottom of his beak with his free hand.  Then, without a word he places another green number card on top of the discard pile, a simple play to begin with.

The game continues on like this for a few rounds, with every turn Rouxls announcing how great he was or how he was going to win and Swatch shooting back with some sort of rebuttal that only served to fluster and make Rouxls even more agitated.  Swatch isn’t sure why he liked poking at Rouxls as much as he did, truly Rouxls was the only one who managed to consistently break through his customer service facade.

It was...nice Swatch supposed.  As idiotic as Rouxls was and his constant pestering to try and best Swatch, it was nice.  A break in an otherwise methodical and boring day.  As much as Swatch hated to admit it, they had grown to have fun playing with Rouxls.

However, the peaceful part of the game soon came to an end when Swatch placed down a draw two card onto the discard pile as Rouxls hand seemed to lessen with every turn, complete with the biggest smirk on their face.

“Now, if you could please draw, I can make my next move.”  The bird hums, watching in curiosity as Rouxls sputters, slamming his hands on the table.

“Whateth is this sorceryeth!?” Rouxls glares at the cards as if they were the ones at fault, “Why musteth I loseth my turne? Draweth two!?” He huffs indignantly, Swatch raising an eyebrow.

“...You read the rules too, didn’t you Kaard? Being the ‘grand duke of puzzles’ yourself, surely you know about the special cards, right?” Their voice drips with faux sympathy, sounding more condescending than nice, Swatch stifling a chuckle at the sudden turn of events.

The rule card sits open on the table, Rouxls glancing between it and Swatch with a growing scowl on his face.

“Of courseth I know thy rules! I haveth bestedeth the most strongesteth beings in thy battleth of Uno!” Rouxls mind whirs in thought, “Thy justeth...won so quickly thateth card nevereth neededeth to be usedeth!” With a burning embarrassed flush once against rising to his face, Rouxls quickly covers his own ineptitude at the game, having bitterly come here after losing to the three heroes to try and best Swatch once again to try and lick his wounds.  

Rouxls snatches the rule card after that, Swatch covering his mouth as they let out a snicker while Rouxls quickly skims through it.  After a few moments, Rouxls throws the card back down, once again puffing out his chest.

"I shalt do this draweth two as thou cards stateth, but feareth not! Thy shalt stille remaineth victoriouse in the endth!" Rouxls swipes at the deck, a little frustrated if Swatch had to guess, gripping the cards in his hand even tighter.

Frustration of the evening having long since melted into amusement, Swatch rests an elbow onto the table to use his hand to keep his head propped up as he continues to play.  Carefully setting another card onto the pile, Rouxls following suit a little too fast.

"I am afraid that this little game will end how it always does, though, I suppose that is why you challenged me after everyone left.  Couldn't bear to take the bitter taste of defeat in the face of the public again, could you?" Swatch begins to idly speak, deciding to make some conversation even if it sounded more like he was targeting Rouxls.  Truthfully they just wanted to see how the man would react, it was always so entertaining to see Rouxls theatrics in action when he wasn't purposefully being a thorn in your side, and Swatch found it more amusing than they should.

Rouxls laughs haughtily, gaze focused onto his cards as he keeps playing, "Fool! I wouldeth happily beeneth a target for thine adoringeth publice, howevereth I waseth ever so busyeth with thy duties of greateth importanceth that I hadeth to scavengeth thine timeth to graceth thee withe thy prescenceth.  Thou shouldeth be gratefule thy oh-so busyeth scheduleth allowede it!"  Truthfully he had been lurking around the outside of the cafe for hours, procrastinating and planning out his "grand entrance" until the store had reached closing.  So alas, here they were.  Sure the patronizing laughter when Rouxls had lost prior bothered him but there was no way he was going to let Swatch be right!

"Ah yes, lucky me." Swatch deadpans, smirk still hanging on their beak, "I cannot imagine how else I would like to be spending my evening.  Why would I want to be relaxing at home after a long day of work when I could be playing a silly card game with you?"  The chirp, sarcasm edging in their words.

"Tsk tsk, thee are justeth afraide of losingeth.  Thou can admite it!"  Rouxls slams another card down.  "For I shall  sooneth claime thy victory in oneth fell swoopeth, prepare thyself worm-avian!"

Swatch scoffs, "Afraid of losing to you? My apologies Kaard, but something actually has to be a reality for me to be scared of it." Rouxls, childishly, sticks out his tongue.  He would not claim it to be childish if you called it out, however.

Setting his own card down, Swatch calls out 'Uno', holding his single card in his grasp.  Meanwhile Rouxl still had multiple cards left, there was no chance of him winning.

Yet somehow, Rouxls hadn't started throwing a fit yet.  Usually when it was clear he was to lose, he would get even more rambunctious than usual- yet this time Rouxls still had his cocky grin, staring at his cards.  Swatch's smirk fades, eyes narrowing, knowing that the other man was up to something.  Of course it wasn't a normal card game, this was Rouxls, something unexpected always happens with him around.

The bird tenses, awaiting the surprise bound to happen.  Rouxls grin gets wider, before he cackles wildly, "Aha! Thou hasn't madeth thine finale moveth! I, Rouxls Kaard, shalt noweth claime thy victory!" Swatch's eyebrows furrowed together, there was no possible way-

Rouxls slams down a red skip card atop the red number card.

Swatch skips his turn, Rouxls putting down a red draw two card- causing Swatch to skip his turn again.  He hesitantly reaches over to draw two cards.

There's no way…

Rouxls tosses down another draw two card, this time in green.  Swatch's grip on his cards get ever tighter as they stare at the pile of discarded cards.

"I dareth say this is wheneth thy say 'Uno'!" Rouxls says triumphantly, Swatch's gaze snapping up in disbelief.  Their beak opens and shuts again, dragging two more cards off of the deck.

"Sayeth thou prayers worm-avian! For tonighte, I reigneth victoriouse!" Swatch watches Rouxls dramatically leap from his seat, pushing the chair back, and slamming down his final card with all the energy in his being.

The card was to choose your own color and draw four cards.  The biggest insult to injury that the game of Uno could give.

Swatch stares in utter shock- he had...actually lost.  Rouxls had actually made a good play and won the game.  Rouxls Kaard did.  The guy who could barely craft a feasible puzzle on his own- outwitting them of all people.  It was an impossibility, and yet, here it was staring Swatch in the face.

Amidst the frustration of losing, Swatch couldn't help but feel...impressed.  That is, until Rouxls starts speaking again.

"There!! Noweth thou see thine wretchedeth worm-avian! Thy am superiore to thou inst everyeth way!  Everytimeth before noweth has beeneth nothing moreth than a fluketh!  For this is thy proveth!  I am trulye bettereth than thou!" He laughs loudly, kicking a foot onto the chair seat and propping himself up into a pose with one hand on his hip and one covering his laughter. "Henceforth thou shalt bowe downeth and call me butler supremethe, thy grand duke of puzzles- Rouxls Kaard!"  A pause in his triumph, looking over at Swatch, " ...Thou hearest me lesser worm-avian?"

Swatch sets down his card, controlled, carefully.  Rouxls boasting makes the guy much less impressive and instead Swatch simmers into annoyance and frustration.  Rouxls got lucky.  And Swatch was never going to hear the end of it.  A scowl breaks his beak in half as he stands stiffly upright, keeping it shut to not say anything without thinking it through first.  Every motion was so strictly controlled, his thoughts whirling around and around until-

Swatch was never going to hear the end of it...unless…

They get an idea, sure it was going to be demeaning and incredibly out of poor taste in Swatch's opinion- but it would be better than anyone finding out about their loss to Rouxls.  Besides, after working for the Queen, demeaning had lost its meaning to Swatch.  At least this time they were going to be the one in control.  So a distraction, enough embarrassment so where Rouxls never wants to talk about this moment to anyone.

Swatch steps out from the table, moving over towards the side Rouxls was on, who merely stared at them in confusion.

Abruptly in one smooth motion, Swatch bows to Rouxls, who they can hear sputter in surprise.  A pleased grin appears on Swatch's beak, hidden from sight.

"I surely hope that will suffice, butler supreme.  You are truly the duke of puzzles, Sir Rouxls Kaard, unmatched in his fantastical puzzle prowess." Swatch pulls himself upright, feeling the grating feeling of forced praise and ridiculous titles being pulled from his throat.  However, the look on Rouxls face was worth it- the bug-eyed look of pure shock combined with the fact his cocky smirk had been replaced with a nervous smile- all the while his face seemed to be a darker blue than usual.  Oh this was worth it.

"Uh...Yes!  Thou is correcteth and shouldeth now understande thou place beneatheth me! I maketh the ordereth now worm-avian, thou can no longere banneth thy from thou fineth establishmente and musteth admiteth always thateth thy am forevere bettereth than thou! Lest thou suffereth thy crippling humilationeth of thou defeate once moreth." Stepping off of the chair, Rouxls manages to get out, his voice wavering at the start- a crack in his carefully portrayed persona.  Startled by how...well Swatch was taking it- he had expected him to get mad or bite back or just...something.  This wasn't like their usual banter at all and Rouxls wasn't sure what was going on.

Swatch listens intently, nodding along to show that they were listening.  Even if they, personally, thought it to be pure nonsense, they did not let it show.

Their head so carefully tilts to the side for a moment, "Beneath you?" They coo, taking a calculated step forward into Rouxls space.

An arm casually snakes around Rouxls waist, pulling the smaller man closer.  He lets out a surprise squeak- trying to stammer out something before he is shushed by Swatch's next words, "Would you not prefer to be side by side? After all, you have proven yourself to be better than I- your chosen adversary since the day we met." He chuckles, "With how obsessed you are with me, dare I say you were trying to court me- hm?" A soft chuckle lingers on his lips as he watches Rouxls nearly melt out of pure flustered nerves.

It was…

Hm. Cute. For Rouxls.

"WHAT? I AM NOT-" Rouxls gasps, much louder than intended, his smarmy accent seemingly fading for a moment before he gulps for a breath trying to readjust himself, "Do not thinketh so highly of thouself! I couldeth care lesse abouteth thou, thy games were merelyeth a simpleth pastime, a pleasureth that thy bestowedeth upon thou!"

Leaning ever so closer to Rouxls, Swatch's voice lowers, a quiet coo for Rouxls' ears only, "Then why is it you always throw a fit when I'm too busy to play with you?  You claim to just want to prove you're better than me, but you've done that now, so what next? Honestly, Rouxls, just spare us the trouble and tell me how you really feel."

A hum.

"If you just wanted to go on dates you could have simply asked." It's said with a wink.

Rouxls chokes, and Swatch thinks they finally have this under control, soon to be wrapped up in a nice pretty bow.  Sure was this a little cruel? Perhaps, but Swatch kept finding it so damn endearing, it was frustrating.  So selfishly wanting to see more of Rouxls' reactions.

But of course, this was Rouxls Kaard they were talking about here.  When did anything involving him go as planned?

Suddenly there are hands grabbing the side of their head, and Swatch can feel his feathers poof out in surprise at the sudden motion.  Before they can react, Rouxls practically slams his forehead into Swatch's, keeping it there and pressing hard as if to challenge the bird.

"Thou sauveth trickery shalt not wortheth on I!" Rouxls announces, before adding his own rebuttal, "Maybe THOU is thee one courting I? Thou claim to be bettereth than I but hereth you stand, arm arounde thy waist.  If thou really haveth better thingeths to do, theneth why are thou hereth and noteth at thou homestead?" 

The two were impossibly close now, pressed together as a different kind of tension fills the air around them.  Swatch can feel Rouxls panting shaky breaths on his beak, the man's false confidence easily seen through, yet- Swatch stutters.  And they never stutter.

Then suddenly- his arms are empty and the simple touch is gone as soon as it had started, and Swatch let out a breath they hadn't realized they had been holding.

"Alas, I am sureth thy leech of a darlingeth prince needs thy attentione!" Rouxls skitters towards the door, "I bideth thee a bittersweet adieu! For now thee willeth be without thine majestic presenceth, whicheth I am sureth you shalt miss.  However, I must informeth thou that I, Rouxls Kaard, willeth not be easily impressedeth with thy simplest flatteries..." He pauses in his escape, looking back at Swatch before glancing down at the floor looking a little...unsure, adding on just a little quieter, "But I shalt be backe, I may haveth won thy battle, but not thy war- so...uh...prepareth thouself for thy return!"

With his final words, which were possibly just an excuse to keep seeing Swatch even though he's already gotten his win, Rouxls escapes through the door and flees faster than Swatch had ever seen him move before.  The bird just...watches him go, dumbfounded at the sudden turn of events.

Swatch stands there for a moment, blinking, wondering if that even just happened.  Rouxls rebuttal swirling around in his brain, them? Courting Rouxls?  A ridiculous assumption, entirely out of left field.  And yet…

Swatch sighs, smoothing down his ruffled feathers, Rouxls was right- if Swatch wanted to they could have easily booted out the nuisance and went home.  Yet, Swatch played Rouxls game.  And every game before.  The bird’s fingers flex, still feeling the faint ghost of Rouxls in his grip, as if it were haunting them- taunting them really.

…

Swatch rubs his face with a hand, a flush rising to his cheeks.  This whole time they had thought they were the one in control, but unfortunately they had long gotten swept up in the uncontrollable whirlwind that was Rouxls Kaard.

[telemna-hyelle]

In Search of a Friend: Chapter 2

A belated Happy Birthday gift for @skyward-floored

I’d really hoped to have this done for your birthday but alas, it seems ‘twas not to be. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Also the story isn’t done, as it has apparently decided to take longer to be told than I planned, so the story will wrap up next chapter. 

Anyway, without further ado, here you go. Happy Birthday, Sky-floor! 💖💝🎉

 ~Chapter Two~

“So what’s the plan, Captain?” Wind asked, hitching the smallest Link a little higher on his back. Link squealed happily at the bounce, so Wind did it again with a grin.

Mask, who had fallen back slightly to walk by the Captain’s side, rolled his eyes at the shrieks and giggles Link was emitting.

“Piggyback rides can’t be that fun.”

“How can you be so sure?” Wind pointed out with a glance over his shoulder. “When was the last time you had one?”

The sprite clamped his mouth shut and stuck his nose in the air. The Captain recognized this look—it was the look Mask made when he didn’t want to admit he didn’t know something.

Which meant Mask probably didn’t remember the last time he got a piggy back ride.

The captain felt his heart clench at the thought, and swallowed hard. He still remembered his dad carrying him, and he had carried his own little sister around. He didn’t know much of Mask’s past (the kid like a deku baba—only opening his mouth to snap), but he was starting to wonder if the sprite had had any sort of adult around while growing up.

He suddenly wished for an excuse to give the kid a piggy-back ride, not that the prickly sprite of a brat would ever—

“I don’t need a piggy-back ride, and it’s not like either of you could give me one. I bet you couldn’t even carry me for thirty feet.”

Ah. The captain grinned. An excuse.

Mask might have been a veteran hero, but the Captain wasn’t precisely wet behind the ears either, and even veterans can be caught by surprise.

Mask shrieked in surprise when he was suddenly snatched into the air and pulled onto the Captain’s back. He recovered with admirable swiftness, however, and managed to swing his heel into the older man’s gut.

“Let me go, you—you—you stupid head!”

“What piercing insults,” The Captain said dryly, “I fear my ego may never recover.”

Wind snorted, and Mask flushed red to his ear-tips, driving his heel back into the Captain’s stomach again. It might have hurt quite a lot if Mask had had enough leverage, but Mask was short and had short legs to match, and it failed to make the Captain release him.

“So what do you bet?”

That stopped Mask in his tracks as he was winding up for another swing. The sprite blinked down at the older hero, eyes narrowed. “Whaddya mean by bet?”

The Captain grinned more. “You said you bet I couldn’t carry you for thirty feet. What do you bet?”

Mask’s eyes narrowed further, sensing a trap. Still, this was an opportunity to good to pass up. “If you win, I… I promise to eat your food without complaining.”

The Captain hummed. With such a statement, Mask was clearly confident as to his chances of winning. “And if you win?”

The sprite smirked. “You’ll have to get me a golden cucco feather.”

The Captain’s insides twisted with fear, though he managed to keep his confident smile on his face by sheer force of will. The easiest way to obtain a golden cucco feather would be to summon a golden cucco—which meant he had to attack a cucco and draw upon himself feathery fury.

Still, he had no intentions of losing this bet.

“Very well, I’ll take that bet.” The Captain twisted his head around to get a good look at the boy, and sent him a wink. “Just hold on.”

Mask scowled back at the wink, but he slumped a little and wrapped his arms around the Captain’s shoulders silently. The older hero counted it as a win in his book.

“As funny as this is,” Wind said, giving the littlest Link another bounce, “Don’t you think we’d better be getting back to camp?”

“Don’t blame me,” the Captain protested. “Blame Mask. He’s the one holding us up!”

He could feel the stink eye boring into the back of his head, before the Captain suddenly felt a smack in his shoulder and a loud yell of HYAH right next to his ear.

“OW! What was that for?” He craned his neck over his shoulder to glare at the kid, who smiled innocently back at him.

“You said I was holding us up, so I thought I’d fix that.” His smile widened. “That’s always how I got Epona to go faster.”

The Captain sucked in a very deep breath, counted to ten, and let it out again. Then he turned to look at Wind (who was suddenly overtaken by a particularly nasty coughing fit, it seemed).

“Do you need a drink of water?” He said, in a sweet tone of voice indicating that he was liable to shove the water down the younger hero’s throat.

Wind cleared his throat hastily. “Nope, I’m good, just, uh, a little tickle. That’s all.” He scrabbled desperately for distractions. “A-anyway, you never answered my question?”

The Captain blinked, thrown off guard by this sudden change in tack. “Your question?”

“Yeah!” Wind said cheerily, carefully shifting his grip to get the little Link into a more comfortable position. Link seemed to approve, as he snuggled against Wind’s green tunic and rested his chin on Wind’s shoulder, blinking sleepily. “What’s the plan, now?”

“Well, we’re heading back to camp,” The Captain said, setting off at a brisk walk in said direction, lest Mask felt the need to assist. “And once we’re there, we’re going to find Sheik or Fi, or possibly Lana.”

Wind hummed, doing his best to keep up without jostling the sleeping little one on his back. “Fi and Lana make sens; but what does Sheik have to do with this?”

“I could use the help of her knack for information and planning… she’s always been able to help me out in a tough situation like this.”

Wind and Mask exchanged a look as the Captain’s voice softened slightly; subtle enough that one would not notice, not unless they knew the captain well.

“Who’s Sheik?” a sleepy voice inquired from Wind’s shoulder, and three gazes snapped around to focus on the smallest boy.

The Captain chewed on his lip, trying to figure out how to explain. Who was Sheik? “She’s--

“—Mr. Knight’s special friend,” Wind cut in smoothly with a wide grin.

“Oh!” Link’s head perked up excitedly. “Like Zelda!”

Unbeknownst to either Link or the Captain, Mask and Wind exchanged another look at this declaration, and had to work very hard to keep a straight face.

Wind eventually gave up and smirked. “Yes, like Zelda.”

Link wiggled excitedly, trying to get a good look at either Wind’s or the Captain’s face (he couldn’t quite decide which one). “Is Mr. Knight gonna marry her when he grows up, too?”

The Captain froze mid-step, Mask made a choked sort of noise, and Wind grinned.

The Captain didn’t like the look of that grin. He was fairly certain it foretold his doom.

“I dunno,” Wind drawled, “Are you, Mr. Knight?”

Words abandoned him. His mind was rushing about in frantic circles, like an army without a leader. He grasped desperately for a response, any response—

“…I haven’t asked her yet.”

Alright, maybe not that response.

Link squirmed again, finally deciding on focusing his attention on Mr. Knight. “ ‘Member, you hafta be polite when you ask her!” His voice was insistent, as if reciting something someone had told him. “Say please! And…” Link paused to consider, tiny brows scrunching in concentration. “…Maybe flowers, if she likes ‘em!”

Wind snorted. Mask gagged.

It was a moment before the Captain managed to summon any words at all. When he spoke, his voice was faint and resigned.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mask tugged sharply on a lock of hair. “Well, ‘keep in mind’ you better not do it anywhere near me, either. I don’t wanna see something gross like that again.”

At this point in the conversation, the Captain was starting to think he could burn a whole breakfast with the amount of heat his face was emitting. He strove desperately for the last tattered shreds of his dignity and sought for an escape route out of this conversation.

“Look! The camp’s up ahead, race you there!” And he bolted off down the path, Mask reflexively squeezing around his neck. The Captain didn’t mind, though; it was a small price to pay for leaving Wind and his all-too-knowing grins behind in the dust.

Well, for about thirty seconds, anyway. Wind had the much smaller burden and quickly overtook the Captain, little Link somehow managing to scream “Faster, faster!” between giggles.

Wind made it to the camp first, to no one’s surprise, and turned a gloating smirk on the older hero as he skidded to a stop within the camp’s border.

“I got back first!”

“FIRST!” Link cheered, and Wind nodded proudly. “Yup, first! So what do I win?”

“Nothing.” The Captain replied smugly. “We didn’t bet anything on the race.”

The Hero of Winds scowled as he set Link onto the ground, grumpy at the prospect of losing his chance to claim the proverbial pound of flesh from the Captain. The Captain paid him no attention, and instead turned his attention to the Sprite still clinging to his back.

“Now, I did make a bet with you, didn’t I?”

Mask’s scowl rivaled Wind’s in grumpiness. “…yes.”

“And I carried you for more than thirty feet… right?”

Mask rolled his eyes grandly. “Just get to the point.”

The Captain grinned, and would have probably flipped his scarf for effect had his arms not been currently full of grouchy eleven-year-old. “You’ll do as you promised, having honorably lost?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll eat the… food… you make without complaining.” Mask paused and narrowed his eyes. “No charcoal though!”

The Captain’s grin widened. “But it’s good for—”

Mask smacked the top of his head, cutting of his ‘defense’ with a startled yelp; which to Mask’s displeasure quickly turned into a peal of laughter.

Mask slouched against the Captain’s back, already plotting as to how he’d get the Captain back for this—even if the piggyback ride had been, well, kinda fun.

“Just put me down, pumpkin head.”

“Sure you don’t want me to carry you more?”

There was a brief moment of silence, then a quiet voice muttered. “…maybe later.”

The Captain paused, letting the words sink into his mind, and then smiled as he knelt down, loosening his grip to set the boy’s feet on solid ground. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Mask rolled his eyes as he stepped away. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” But not even his most dismissive tone could take away the smile on the older hero’s face.

“What’s that?” A little voice chirped, and Mask looked down in surprise to see a small hand reaching for the Keaton mask hanging from his belt. The older boy instinctively snatched it away, but then faltered.

Link was staring up at him with the widest, saddest eyes he’d ever seen. His heart twinged.

He could feel the amused, knowing looks from the two older heroes. He glanced down at Link’s wide blue eyes again.

He sighed, and held out the mask. “It’s a Keaton mask. You have to be careful, all right?”

Link reached out greedily, his smile beaming with triumph. “Yup! Imma take good care of it, I promise!”

His face still a picture of reluctance, Mask handed the mask to the little boy, who immediately put it on and ran over to the Captain. He grabbed the tail end of the scarf and tugged. “Mr. Knight! Look! I’mma a Keatan!”

The Captain felt his heart melt like butter, and he was pretty sure there was a stupid smile on his face right now. “I can see that.”

“It’s Keaton,” Mask pointed out, but he didn’t seem to terribly bothered. The correction was lost on Link, but it did succeed in drawing Link’s attention back to the other resident kid of the group. The youngest boy spun around and ran back to the sprite, his mask bouncing.

“Have you got any other cool masks? Can I see them? Pretty-pretty-please-please?”

The kid was rather intuitive, the Captain thought, as he’d stumbled upon the right path to wriggle his way into Mask’s heart. Mask loved his masks (rather obviously, hence the nickname) and clearly didn’t mind the opportunity to brag about them to his tiny enthusiastic audience.

With the littlest Link currently occupied gushing over all the masks Mask pulled out of his bag and proudly showed off, the Captain turned to Wind. \

“So, who should we look for, first? Lana, Sheik or Fi?”

“Why are you asking me?” Wind folded his arms.

The Captain arched an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I ask you?”

“I dunno,” The Hero of Winds shrugged. “I’m just surprised you’re asking me at all instead of…”

The Captain narrowed his eyes. “Instead of what?”

“Instead of, you know, charging straight ahead for the chance to spend some quality time with Sheik.”

Ah, and here came the flush again, just after it had finally died down. His mouth flopped open and closed like a landed fish, desperately searching for something to say—

“Master Link!”

Thank the goddesses for Fi.

Never the one to let an opportunity slip through his fingers, the Captain spun to face the sword spirit, his own personal savior. “Hello, Fi, what do you need?”

The Sword spirit gracefully came to a stop, the frills of her (sleeves, wings, arms? The Captain wasn’t quite sure) fluttering gently. “It is not I who is in need of your assistance, Master Link, but Mistress Sheik.”

The Captain gulped, returning Wind’s smug glance with a dirty look. Perhaps not as much of a savior as I had hoped. “Sheik sent you? That’s odd. Normally she’d just come and find me herself.”

His heart gave a sudden squeeze, and only his experience as a captain, keeping a cool head under pressure, kept him from reacting on the cold terror that had begun to build in his throat. He took a step forward towards Fi, but clenched his fists before he reached out and shook her. Fi was a good friend and companion, and he couldn’t take out his panic on her. Through sheer force of will he managed to keep his voice level when he spoke. “Where is she? Is she all right? Has something happened?”

Well, mostly level. It wasn’t his fault that his tone had tighten and rise on the last couple words.

“Mistress Sheik is fine,” Fi replied, her tone even, though the Captain was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the faint look of amusement on her face. He’d gotten rather good at reading her moods, if he did say so himself. “She is merely occupied at the moment and unable to search you out herself.”

The panic drained away, leaving only a sweeping feeling of relief in its wake as his tense shoulders slumped. “Oh, good. That’s… that’s good.”

He heard Wind snort from besides him, but in this moment, he couldn’t even care. “Where is she?”

“She is awaiting your arrival in her designated tent.” Fi chimed, “She has—”

“Hi, blue lady!”

The Captain glanced down to find the littlest Link had abandoned Mask and had rushed over to inspect this strange floating being, curiosity gleaming bright in his eyes.

Fi stared down at the small boy, head tilted to one side, before there was a minute softening of her expression, something that the Captain would hazard to call ‘fondness’. “Hello, little master.” She said, her musical tone gentle. “Scans indicate you are my first master, from the approximate time period my physical appearance originates from. My extended memory banks insist I state that it is very good to meet you again, little master.”

Link tilted his head to one side, bangs falling messily into his eyes as he blinked up at her. “Do I know you?”

“As we are, we have not met in person,” she replied.

The Captain resisted the urge to roll his eyes fondly, and said, “Link, this is a friend of mine, Fi.”

“Oh!” Link beamed up at the sword spirit, eyes wide. “You have the same name as Mr. Knight’s pretty sword!”

Fi blinked down at the small child, tilting her head to one side. “I have never considered the visual appeal of the aesthetic of my projected form, but I am grateful that you think so, young master.”

Link stared up at her, clearly confused.

The captain crouched down next to him and set a hand on his head, ruffling fluffy strands of dirty blonde with a smile. “She said thank you.”

Comprehension dawned brightly, and Link’s eyes lit up along with his smile. “You’re welcome!”

The Captain was pretty sure his heart stopped for a moment in the wake of that smile, and if the way Fi was staring blankly down at the little boy was any indication, whatever passed her heart was suffering under a similar condition. After a moment, though, she gathered herself with her usual impassive aplomb and turned slightly towards the Captain.

“My apologies for the confusion. According to the databanks I have accessed due to the temporal anomalies housed in this era, I entered my long rest before the first of my first master’s children were born, and I therefore have no experience in communicating with those in possession of limited vocabularies.”

The Captain swung himself to his feet, taking ahold of Link’s tiny hand in exchange for being out of hair-ruffling reach. “Don’t worry about it, Fi. I’m sure your sentiment got through to him.”

“More importantly,” Wind said, elbowing the Captain aside so he could step closer to Fi, “Did you just say the first of Sky’s kids? How many did he have?... how soon is the first one going to be born?”

Fi lowered her gaze down to wind, her head tilting a miniscule amount to one side in curiosity. “Correct. I am surprised you do not know this, as he and Her Grace founded the royal line together, but they had multiple children together, and extrapolating from comparing both my Master’s and your personal timelines, my estimate for the birth would be—”

She paused.

“Master Wind, my projections indication that the possibility of your question being related to a bet is 87%. Would you like to give your input on the matter?”

Wind’s cheeks turned red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“93%.”

The sailors shoulders slumped. “How’d you figure it out?”

“I am aware of the correspondence between your group. Several of my masters liked to read the letters aloud to me.”

Wind got a rather strange look on his face in response to that; a strange mixture of amused, fond and sad, or something of the like. Honestly, the Captain had no idea what they were talking about, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. He had a kid to find, two kids to get home, and a friend to help, after all.

He'll just have to figure it out later.

“All right, let’s go, kids. Sheik’s waiting for us! Link—” he began to bend down to pick the boy up, but Mask’s voice stopped him.

“I’ll carry Link.”

The heads of the two oldest heroes snapped around to stare at Mask, their eyes wide. The sprite crossed his arms and lifted his chin defiantly. “If we’re going to visit Sheik, someone needs to make sure to protect the baby in case you two try and make kissy-face at each other again.”

The Captain wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be offended. Wind had no such indecision and snorted so hard he nearly choked.

Fi tipped her head slightly to one side again. “What is ‘kissy-face’? The definition does not seem to be contained within my archives.”

“I’ll tell you, Fi!” Wind chirped eagerly, “Kissy-face is whe—”

The Captain’s hand wrapped around the sailor’s mouth before he could finish the sentence, his other hand grabbing Wind shoulder and beginning to walk him away rapidly. “YOU CAN TELL HER LATER, LET’S GET GOIN—OW!”

Wind spat to the side, a vicious grin on his face. “Serves you right! You should have known better!”

Mask stared at them from where he knelt on the ground, helping Link climb onto his back. “…they’re both idiots, aren’t they.”

“I think they’re cool!” Link said, wrapping his arms around Mask’s neck. “…also funny,” he added, after a moment’s consideration.

Mask tucked his arms beneath Link’s legs and paused, trying to ignore the clench of nerves in his stomach. He’d never given anyone a piggyback ride before, but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He wobbled a little when he pushed upright—but the moment passed and he was steady on his feet, Link giggling in his ear.

“Well, if they’re funny, what am I?” he asked, beginning to walk after the two older heroes after giving Fi a nod in farewell.

Link hummed in thought. “You’re super cool!”

Mask’s chin lifted a little, a proud grin crossing his face even as a faint pink flush touched the tip of his ears. “That’s right, and don’t you forget it!”

“I won’t!” Link said, and snuggled a little closer. “I promise!”

~To Be Continued~