#//This got a little bit longer than I anticipated whoops

[ravarui]

@ncfertari receives an accidental kidnapping, in regards to this post

Keeping a low profile while traversing the halls of Mary Geoise was the most important thing for a man in his position. If the wrong people caught wind of his presence then it would be an absolute nightmare for him to get away. Not that he worried about anyone being able to due him real harm, but it would still be an annoying hussle he would prefer to avoid.

There had been a commotion earlier, one he had only half paid attention too, as he used it as a welcome distraction to continue on his way. His talk with the five elders had been fruitless, but fine, if these stubborn old men wanted to ignore his warnings then so be it. Sooner or later it would come back to bite them in the ass, he was sure about that.

The Reverie was in full swing and he could only shake his head at these nobles. He would never understand their ways, never cared for them in the first place either. Not that he had any reason too, he was a pirate, he didn't play by their rules. Never had, never would be.

The sound of heavy footsteps running into his direction, followed by loud yelling was what got his attention. Great. Just what he needed. It's only thanks to his observation haki that he doesn't collide with the young woman who comes running around the corner. The chains around her wrists the first thing he noticed, followed by the fact that she wasn't wearing one of the collars typical for slaves. Had she escaped before receiving that one? It would explain the noises of the guards coming closer.

The emperor reacts quickly, grabbing her by her wrist and pulling her into the shadows of one of the massive columns that adorned the halls of the castle. Letting go of her wrist he moved his hand to cover her mouth, while moving her closer to his body, using his cloak to conceal them better in the shadows. "Be quiet if you don't want them to discover us."

He waited a moment, wanting to be sure that she complied before he moved his hand away from her mouth again. The guards were still close by, frantic in their search for her.

[witchywithwhiskey]

how about ransom and “i mean, i got what i wanted, didn’t i?” 👀🫶🏼

can't resist a dare

pairing: best friend!ransom drysdale x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship, taking nude photos/sending nude photos, filming/recording/taking photos during sex, little bit of exhibitionism, come marking, come facial, light bdsm, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names (baby), aftercare, friends to lovers, revenge on a mean/rude ex

word count: 4,300ish

a/n: whoops, this ended up being longer than i anticipated 😬 but i loved the premise i came up with too much to scrap it and try to write something shorter so here we go!! i just loved the idea of best friend!ransom being a petty perv and reader being just as much of a petty perv 🤭 anyway i hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡♡

You never could resist a dare from Ransom Drysdale. 

The devastatingly handsome grandson of Harlan Thrombey had been your best friend since you were children running around his grandfather’s spooky old house while your families spent time together. Even though you were both grown adults, Ransom still knew how to push all your buttons, and he knew that if he dared you to do something, you’d do it. 

Which was how you’d ended up in the cramped bathroom on the first floor of the Thrombey mansion during Harlan’s May Day party, your body bent over at the waist and your arm contorted behind your back to take a photo of the tiny little thong you’d worn beneath your sundress. 

Ransom had dared you to take a photo of your ass and send it to your ex. You, of course, had risen to the challenge and accepted the dare. 

You hadn’t had nearly enough champagne to make you so reckless, but there was something about your oldest friend that brought out your competitive spirit. Ransom was the only one who could get you to do such things, but you enjoyed being pushed outside of your comfort zone. Plus, you knew your best friend wouldn’t make you do anything that would actually hurt you.

In fact, if you were honest with yourself, there was a part of you that was perversely pleased to be taking such an obscene photo of yourself while some of the richest families in Massachusetts milled around just outside the door. The thought of getting caught taking naughty pictures turned you on more than you wanted to admit, so you hurried up and took the photos. 

When you were done, you picked one you liked and sent it to your ex with a smirk on your face, thinking he should be so lucky as to see your ass one last time. 

Leaving the bathroom, you strutted through the party looking for Ransom, feeling smug about completing the dare. You caught his eye when you entered the library, and even across the room, you could see the amusement dancing in his crystal blue eyes. You made your way through the crowd with a pep in your step, but halfway through, your phone vibrated with a response from your ex.

You opened the text and wished you hadn’t.

Didn’t know you were such a desperate slut, but if you really need dick so bad, I guess I’ll let you ride mine, baby. I know you loved bouncing on it like a whore. 

Your expression twisted into a scowl, and you looked up at your best friend, who was suddenly in front of you. Hurt wrapped around your heart, a part of you feeling—perhaps unfairly—that Ransom should’ve known your ex would text something vile back to you. 

“I did your dare, are you happy now?” you hissed at your best friend, taking out all your hurt and anger on Ransom. You knew you were much more angry at yourself, and your ex, for his hurtful response, but your best friend was the safest target at the moment.

Annoyingly, Ransom looked unaffected by your fury, the satisfied smirk on his face never wavering even as you continued to glare at him. When he responded, his voice was a lazy drawl that reminded you he couldn’t have known the effect of his dare.

“I mean, I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a frustrated huff and opened your phone to the text message you’d gotten from your ex, turning the screen to your best friend so he could read it. “Is this what you wanted?” you sneered, knowing full well your best friend wouldn’t react kindly to what your ex had said. 

You were so determined to show Ransom what he’d done, you didn’t even consider the fact that you were also showing him the photo you’d sent. At least, not until his blue eyes went a little hazy and his smirk widened into a full-blown grin.

“The dare didn’t include you showing me the photo,” Ransom drawled, his gaze flicking to yours, the look in his eyes making something hot squirm deep in your core. “But I can’t say I mind—you’ve got a gorgeous ass.” 

Heat rose in your face, and your expression twisted into one of impatient annoyance. “Look at the response, Ran,” you gritted out, trying not to let his compliment get to you. He was your best friend—he was probably just messing with you. But you were soon distracted from what Ransom had said when he finally looked at what your ex had replied.

A storm cloud settled over Ransom’s handsome features, his eyes narrowing into two slits and his mouth twisting into a furious scowl. You even thought you heard a low rumble, like a growl, emanate from your best friend’s chest beneath the din of the party around you. 

“Who does this little shit think he is?” Ransom fumed, grabbing your phone and clicking on the contact info. “Does this motherfucker think he can talk to you like this?” Your best friend’s gaze flicked to yours and something inside you warmed when you saw the righteous anger simmering in his eyes. “And where the fuck does he get off calling you baby?” 

Your mouth opened to answer him, but Ransom just shook his head in a way that quelled you. Instead, he grabbed your hand with his free one and began leading you through the party toward the back of the house. Your feet moved quickly to keep up with his longer strides, and he slowed a little so he didn’t hurt your arm as he tugged you into the backyard. Ransom walked briskly through the gate in the fence that separated the lawn from the forest. 

You knew the forest around the Thrombey mansion just as well as the house itself, with its trees and the occasional statues representing Harlan’s various mystery novels. You and Ransom had played in the forest plenty when you were children, and partied amongst the statues when you were in your teens and early twenties. It was the only place the two of you could have any privacy, and you had to assume that Ransom wanted seclusion to discuss what your ex had said.

At your favorite of the statues in the forest, Ransom pulled to a stop and rounded on you, mischief gleaming in his blue eyes. You could tell he had a plan. 

“Do you wanna show your shithead ex what he’s missing?” 

Ransom’s smile was sharp as a knife and you couldn’t help but be distracted by your best friend’s handsomeness, just for a moment. His slicked-back brown hair gleamed in the spring sunshine that trickled down through the leafy trees above, and his broad shoulders filled out his henley so deliciously, you almost forgot the question he asked. 

But then his words broke through your distracted mind and the grin that spread across your face was practically devilish in your delight. “What do you have in mind?” you asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stared up at your best friend with nothing but trust.

Ransom’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a second before he met yours again. “Get on your knees,” he said, his voice low and gruff in a way you’d never heard before. It made heat pool deep in your core and you squirmed a little but didn’t hesitate to follow the order. 

The forest floor was blanketed in a soft carpet of dying leaves, even as new growth flourished around you, the sweet scent of spring filling your senses as you lowered yourself to your knees. Your eyes remained fixed on Ransom’s as your knees hit the soft ground, and though you knew the two of you were alone in the woods, it truly felt as though you were the only two people in the whole world.

You weren’t naive. You knew whatever your best friend had in mind to get back at your ex would be crossing one or two lines you’d never crossed with him before. But you trusted Ransom. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. And, truthfully, a part of you that you kept hidden and locked away so much of the time wanted to cross a line or two with your best friend. 

So you sat on your knees on the ground at Ransom’s feet and stared up at him with all the trust you had in him no doubt written all over your face. You watched as his eyes softened and his mouth curved at the edges into a gentle smile, his expression filled with affection. It was so different to the hard or smarmy mask he wore in public—and even around his family—that you relaxed even further, knowing he’d take care of you even as you got revenge on your ex.

“Stick your tongue out,” Ransom murmured, his voice low and soft and nearly blending in with the breeze rustling the trees above you. His hand reached out and his fingers stroked your cheek, his smile deepening when you nuzzled into his palm before doing as he said. “Good girl, now look at me like you wanna suck my cock.”

A bolt of heat shot through you, nearly making you shiver as warmth bloomed, feral and unbidden, within your body. Ransom’s command was certainly crossing a line, but it felt like permission, too. For the first time in a very long time, you let the feelings you’d hidden away come rushing to the surface. The force of them surprised you, and you found yourself leaning into the arousal that swirled through your body.

With your tongue already sticking out, you let yourself sink into the desire you felt to suck Ransom’s cock and let it show in the way you were posed. You arched your back to stick out your ass and push up your chest, giving your best friend a good view of your tits in your dress. Letting your eyes go heavy-lidded with arousal, you stared eagerly up at your best friend.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes darkened, his pupils blowing wide and his lips parting as he let out a heavy breath. He looked transfixed by you, and if you weren’t sticking your tongue out, you would’ve smirked at his reaction to you.

For a long moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Then, Ransom shook himself lightly and he held up your phone, swiping it open to the camera. You watched as he angled it the way he wanted, and waited patiently while he took a few pictures of you on your knees in front of him. 

When his eyes returned to your face, you relaxed your pose a little, expecting him to give you your phone so you could pick out a photo to send to your ex. Instead, Ransom gave you a considering look.

“Do you really wanna piss off your ex?” he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that made butterflies stir in your belly even as more warmth trickled down between your thighs. A slow, evil grin spread across his handsome face that made your stomach flutter and your core clench. “Do you wanna show him what he’s missing?’

“Yes.” Your answer slipped from your lips before you really had a chance to think about it, but once it was out, you wouldn’t take it back. You trusted Ransom, you really wanted to get back at your ex, and, even more than that, you were desperately curious to see how far your best friend would take things. So you doubled down, giving him an evil smile of your own. “Yes, I do.”

Ransom’s grin turned a little smug as he looked at you with mischievous delight dancing in his eyes. The dappled light of the sunny spring day shifted across his face, and you sucked in a silent breath at just how handsome your best friend was. Your heart thumped in your chest, but you pushed the meaning behind that feeling aside and focused on the moment.

“Unzip my pants and pull my cock out,” Ransom murmured, his tone low and rough as gravel, sending a shiver down your spine.

Immediately, your eyes dropped to the front of your best friend’s slacks and you couldn’t help but notice the bulge there. A delighted smile curled the edges of your mouth. Ransom was just as turned on by you as you were by him. That knowledge gave you the courage you needed to do as he said. 

Your fingers fumbled excitedly with Ransom’s clothes as you pushed up his henley and undid the button and fly of his pants. You pushed them and his boxer briefs down over his hips, revealing the long length of his cock. It bounced free from his briefs and you sucked in a sharp gasp. He was so thick and long, your body clenched with the need to be filled just at the sight of your best friend’s cock.

Eagerly, you leaned forward, pressing your face to the underside of Ransom’s cock and inhaling the clean, musky scent of him. He smelled so good, you could feel your body react to your best friend’s cock, your pussy soaking your thong and making a mess of your thighs. Tilting your head back, you turned your heavy-lidded eyes up to Ransom, staring up at him while you nuzzled into his hard length.

“Yeah, just like that,” Ransom rasped, giving you an encouraging nod while his thumb tapped the screen of your phone, taking photos of you. “Look so pretty with my cock on your face, baby.”

A pleased smile curved your lips and your eyes closed as you savored the wonderful feeling of Ransom’s praise. It made your body warm even further, and you conveyed how happy it made you by pressing a soft kiss to the underside of Ransom’s cock. He rumbled an appreciative sound and when you looked up at him again, his eyes were the darkest you’d ever seen, his entire attention focused entirely on you.

You liked having Ransom’s attention and you didn’t wait for him to give you more instructions. Trailing your lips up the length of his cock, you pressed wet, suckling kisses to the velvety soft skin wrapped around the hardness beneath. You didn’t know which of you enjoyed it more—Ransom, with his face twisted into a look of pleasure and his chest heaving, or you, with your pussy dripping between your thighs. 

It seemed to take Ransom a moment to remember what he was supposed to be doing, that the point of you being on your knees was to record what you were doing to get back at your ex. He tapped the screen of your phone once, and when he spoke, there was something in his voice that made you think he was recording a video—a tenor of encouragement that made you want to perform.

“How d’you like my cock, baby?” he asked, a smirk clear on his face and in his tone. “Am I bigger than your ex?”

You wanted to grin and laugh—Ransom’s cock was much bigger than your ex’s. Instead, you curved your lips into your most vixenish smile and nuzzled into your best friend’s hardness like it was your most cherished stuffed animal. 

“I looove your cock, Ran,” you purred in a sultry voice, not having to try hard to show your appreciation for him. You pressed a kiss to his hard length and licked the underside of the head, wringing a grunt from your best friend. “You have such a big cock, daddy, way bigger than my ex—I don’t know how I’m gonna fit you in my tight little throat.” You batted your lashes up at the camera while you swirled your tongue around the tip, licking up your best friend’s precum. 

Ransom tapped your phone and moved it out of the way so he could look straight at you, raising one of his eyebrows in amusement. “‘Daddy’?” he asked, a delighted smirk curving his lips.

You stroked Ransom’s cock while you pulled back to answer. “My ex always wanted me to call him that, but it never felt right,” you said, making a face before you leaned forward again, wrapping your lips around the tip of your best friend’s cock and sucking on him lightly. Ransom grunted in pleasure.

“Keep going, baby, we’ll show that shithead what he’s never gonna have,” Ransom rasped, lifting your phone up again and tapping the screen while you took his cock deeper into your mouth. “Suck daddy’s cock, baby, be a good girl and show me how much you love my dick.”

You wanted to smile at Ransom’s filthy words, but instead you focused your attention entirely on his cock, bobbing your head on his hard length until the tip of him was pressing against the back of your throat. You’d never taken anyone as big as him, but you were determined to deep throat your best friend, so you relaxed your throat and pushed yourself. After a few tries, you took him all the way in, until his cock was bulging in your throat and your nose was pressed flat to his stomach.

“Oh fuck, jesus christ, baby,” Ransom shouted when you swallowed around him, your throat squeezing his hardness as you fought to keep him buried to the root in your mouth. Tears streamed down your face, and drool trickled down your chin, but you paid it no mind, focusing entirely on your best friend’s cock.

His big hand settled on the crown of your head, fingers flexing like he wanted to grab you and hold you down on his cock. Your pussy clenched at the thought, but Ransom seemed not to want to hurt you, so he simply bucked his hips a little, fucking your throat in short thrusts. 

“Shit, ‘m gonna come,” he rasped, his voice rough and strained in a way you’d never heard before. It made you squeeze your thighs together as more wetness flooded your already messy slit. “Baby, ‘m gonna come, holy fuck, your throat feels so fucking good, oh fuck.”

When his cock started to twitch, you pulled off and smiled sweetly up at your best friend. “Come on my face, Ran,” you panted, your voice breathy as you stared directly into Ransom’s darkened eyes. 

It took you a moment to realize Ransom’s hand holding your phone had dropped to his side, and the entirety of his focus was on you—just you. A pleased smile curled your lips while you pumped your best friend’s cock in your fist, squeezing the tip while he tossed his head back and let out a loud, pleasured groan.

Ransom came, muttering, “Baby, baby, baby,” under his breath, ropes of his come landing all over your face, joining the tears, spit and drool already coating your cheeks and chin. You opened your mouth, catching some of his spend on your tongue and humming happily at the musky taste of him. 

When Ransom tipped his head back up and opened his eyes to look at you, his mouth fell open in a helpless moan when he took in the state of you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes roving over your face hungrily, like he couldn’t get enough of seeing you with his come on your cheeks. “You look so pretty covered in my come, baby,” he murmured, warmth and affection in his tone as he stroked your jaw, one of the few places on your face that wasn’t messy.

You grinned up at your best friend, pleased at his praise, though that didn’t stop you from teasing him. “Why don’t you take a picture, daddy, it’ll last longer,” you sassed. But once the words were out, you realized how serious you were about the suggestion. When Ransom raised his eyebrows in question, you whispered, “Use your phone—if you want.”

Ransom didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants and angled it above your face. “Smile for me, baby,” he murmured softly, and you couldn’t help but follow the gentle command. He took a few photos of you, sitting on your knees in the forest, covered in his come. 

Once he was done, he stowed both your phones in his pocket and pulled his henley off over his head, leaving him in a simple white t-shirt. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he started using the soft cotton garment to clean your face. He was gentle, wiping the come from your face and then clearing away your ruined makeup. 

Somehow, it felt so much more intimate than sucking your best friend’s cock and all you could do was sit there, your heart pounding in your chest while you let Ransom take care of you. His gaze caught yours, and you saw his crystal blue eyes were swirling with just as much emotion as was filling your heart, and something seemed to pass between the two of you—an understanding that something had changed between you.

When he’d cleaned your face to the best of his ability, Ransom tucked his cock away then helped you to stand, supporting your weight while he brushed the dirt and leaves off your knees. You leaned heavily against his chest when he stood up, his arms looping easily around you and you shared another silent moment, both of you smiling and staring into each other’s eyes.

It was you who ended up breaking the moment, asking the question that was making you burn with curiosity. “Are we really going to send those pictures and videos to my ex?” you asked, watching your best friend’s face for his reaction. Truth be told, you still wanted to get back at your ex for what he’d said, but since Ransom’s cock was in them, he had a right to a say in it.

He seemed to be watching you just as carefully as you were watching him. “Do you want to?” he asked, his voice toneless. He was leaving it up to you.

An evil smile spread across your face, Ransom’s lips curving into a smirk in response. “Yeah,” you said brashly. “Let him see what he could’ve had.”

“Just as long as you tell him who’s dick you’re sucking,” Ransom murmured, kissing your temple and pulling your phone from his pocket to hand to you. “I want him to know you’re my girl now.”

At those possessive words, you looked up at your best friend in surprise, but Ransom only gave you a look like you should know better.

Ducking your head, you hid an exceptionally pleased smile as you turned in Ransom’s arms and leaned back against his broad chest so he could watch over your shoulder. Together, you picked out the best photos and videos to send to your ex.

Sorry! Sent that to the wrong person. These are just for you. Oh and Ransom says hi. 

You couldn’t help but giggle when your ex immediately started blowing up your phone, taking great pleasure in blocking him. When you were done, you handed your phone back to Ransom to hold for you, since your dress didn’t have pockets, and you turned in his arms again. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you looked up at your best friend with a smile.

“So I’m your girl now, huh?” you asked, unable to let him get away with just a look for confirmation.

Ransom’s strong arms wound around your waist, holding you tight to his chest. “As if I’d be such a fool as to let anyone else have you,” he said, snorting to himself. “I’m not as stupid as your ex.”

“Clearly,” you said dryly, laughing at the unamused look he shot you. 

But then Ransom silenced your laughter with a kiss, his mouth slanting to yours perfectly. All at once, you let the emotions you’d bottled up for so long flow free, and you clung to Ransom as you both deepened the kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth like he was staking a claim, and you answered him back with just as much fervor. 

It was less a first kiss and more a devouring of souls as the two of you made out in the woods of the Thrombey estate.

Finally, Ransom pulled away with a groan. “OK, here’s the plan,” he said with a huff, pressing his forehead to yours. His chest was heaving as he caught his breath, but he soldiered on. “We go back, tell everyone you have a headache and I’m gonna drive you home,” he said, pausing briefly to kiss you. “Then I take you back to my place and we don’t leave my bed for two days—maybe three.”

Laughing and nodding you pushed up on your tiptoes and kissed Ransom again. “Three, definitely three,” you agreed.

“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing you again.

 Before he pulled away entirely, though, Ransom caught your eye and you knew from the mischief sparkling in the depths of his gaze that he had another dare for you. You grinned eagerly. 

“I dare you to take off your thong and go back to the party with your needy little cunt dripping down your thighs for me,” Ransom rumbled, his voice deliciously low and deep and making you want to jump him right there in the woods.

When Ransom raised an eyebrow in a challenging look, your pussy clenched at the filthy dare, your whole body warming as arousal flooded through you again. You didn’t know what expression your face was making, but it made Ransom grin and press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“If you’re a good girl, daddy will give you a reward when we get to my place,” he murmured. 

But Ransom hadn’t needed to offer you an incentive.

After all, you never could resist a dare from Ransom Drysdale.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Comeback Queen - Part 1 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Here you go! I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys like it. Part 2 will be out tomorrow night! Also if you want to share your theories on where reader is going please send them my way. I’m interested to see what you guys think! 🫶

Months. That’s how long it had been since you had been in this position. Month and months and months. Months longer than it should have been too. Alexia had unfortunately had complications with her knee after coming back to playing the first time and this meant that she was side lined for a further few months.

During her time out on the side lines, you had picked up a knock yourself and was now part of the recovery squad. You hated the first month of your recovery purely because if you couldn’t be playing you want to be watching your love do what she does best, but that wasn’t possible either.

So, when Alexia went away with the Spanish squad and phoned you to say even though she wouldn’t be playing she is fit enough to sit on the bench, you knew it wouldn’t be long until that did happen.

You were proven right a couple weeks later. It was

You were sat in the stands with Mapi and a few of the other girls who had some sort of knock or injury, just behind the bench. Alexia had excitedly told you last night that Jona was planning on putting her on in the second half of todays match. This had excited you too as it meant you got to do your second favourite thing to do with football, watching her play. Of course, this was slightly behind playing yourself but that isn’t possible right now.

The first half flew by and with Salma’s hattrick Barca was already cruising towards the win, something that meant slightly less pressure on your loves shoulders when she did come on which you knew would help even if she didn’t really think about it. Alexia had gone through a pretty extensive warm up during the half time break so you had a feeling it wouldn’t be too long until you saw her enter the field. You didn’t leave your seat like the others wanting to make sure you caught every ball touch the woman had. She had just run back down the tunnel to catch the last bit of the half time team talk and probably give her own little captains speech with Irene.

The next time you caught her moving was in the 60th minute. She was up on the side lines in her kit, bib over the top to warm up quickly but you knew it wouldn’t be long until she was out on the pitch and the rest of the stadium could tell too. Not even a minute later and she was lined up with .. and .. ready for her much awaited and eagerly anticipated return.

She got given the captains armband and received a loud round of applause as she ran on, you made sure to whoop and cheer as loud as you could. Determined to show your support for your lover.

Alexia had been on the pitch for barely 10 minutes when the ball was crossed into Lucy at the back post, you held your breath as the ball bounced off her and into the middle of the box where your favourite number 11 was waiting. She didn’t catch the shot as cleanly as you knew she would have wished to, but it didn’t matter as it nestled into the bottom right corner.

You were up in a flash jumping with the other injured players as much as physically possible for you all. Of course she was in the right place at the right time, she had been studying tapes her whole life pretty much. She just knew the game and now even more than ever possibly, she knew her team.

The rest of the game went on and even though the opposition scored it didn’t dull the buzz around the stadium, the return of Frido last game and now Ale today just had set the right feeling within the club. Now all that was left was you and Mapi.

Speaking of, Mapi was dragging you by the hand down to the pitch where you greeted Ingrid when she approached, you chatted with them as well as Keira and Aitana for a while, but your eyes never drifted far from Alexia as she made her way round the fans. You were always in awe of how she interacted with them no matter the occasion, she always had time to sign things and take photos.

She had made her way around all the fans she could today and was about to head down the tunnel when she spotted you. Her eyes met yours and you could see the joy in them as soon as they did, the smile widening on her lips to match. She changed direction and headed towards where you were stood with the other women.

As she got closer you excused yourself from the conversation around dinner and made a beeline for her. You instantly wrapped your arms around her and held on with all you had, her arms wrapping around your waist and holding you firmly but not tight. “I’m so proud of you, mi vida. A goal too right away, only you could do that.” She gave you a little extra squeeze before pulling back.

“Had someone to score for didn’t I.” You grinned in her direction and went to reply when Pina jumped into the conversation from behind you both.

“You always score for y/n can’t you dedicate it to someone else for once.” You exchanged a look with your wife at this, you could see the smirk rising on her face, but you gave her a warning look. As much as you loved Claudia you knew she had a big mouth and what you had to share should only come from the two of you, being as it affected those you play with or did play with.

“What can I say, when you love someone this much it’s easy to dedicate a goal to them.” This caused a smile to rise to your face.

Pina walked away with a slightly disturbed look on her face, one that you knew was due to her distaste for the lovey stuff she had just heard from her captain. “You are capi mush when y/n is around.” Was a comment thrown over her shoulder as she walked away, a comment that had your girlfriend giving you a quick peck to the lips before she was off running after her. Causing the young Spaniard to squeal and bolt off in her counterpart Patri’s direction, you wife hot on her heels.

You giggled at their antics and met back up with Mapi to go out to the car, you had picked the couple up today and would be dropping them home on your way back to yours and Alexia’s place.

Mapi and Ingrid had just departed the car with the promise to be ready for when you are due to pick them up later to car share to dinner. Alexia was staring out the passenger side window obviously deep in thought because her eyebrows had the cute crinkle in them, they always had when the gears in her head were working overtime.

“What’s going on in the beautiful mind of your babe?” When she didn’t reply you got a little concerned, Alexia was not normally that far in her head that she couldn’t even hear you. To gain her attention you gently rested your hand on her thigh which caused her to jump slightly. “Lo siento I didn’t mean to make you jump, are you okay?”

Alexia grabbed the hand on her thigh and laced your fingers together and gave your hand a squeeze, “Si no sorry I’m okay just thinking.” This caused you to chuckle slightly which meant you got a confused look from the woman riding shotgun.

“I know you are thinking gupa, that’s why I put my hand on you to get your attention. I asked you what was going on in that beautiful head of yours and you were too far gone.” You squeezed the hand in yours a couple time to give her some comfort.

“I think we should tell them.” She was looking directly at you now and you knew this had been playing on her mind longer than just this car journey. You gave her hand another squeeze before you replied.

“I think we should soon too, but not today. Today is about you amor, I don’t want anything to take away from us celebrating that, you. But yes, I do think soon we need to too.” Alexia was nodding away in the passenger seat as you spoke and gave you a smile as she gripped your hand in 3 successive squeezes, a gesture you knew meant she loved you.

The rest of the journey home was spent talking about how you were going to share your news, you were still not sure how some of the girls would take your departure from the squad.

[ocareyna]

My Imperial City Ocarina Bass C and Night By Noble Alto C, and the little miracle story of how I got them

[Originally posted on Reddit here]

For a while now, I’ve been interested in getting an ocarina, and because Christmas was approaching, I decided to buy myself one as a gift. The thing was, which kind would I get? I liked the sound of altos but worried that in person, the high pitch would hurt my ears. On the other hand, I adored how basses sound, but even a plastic one was way out of my budget. After posting some questions on this sub, I decided to just ask God what He thought of it all and went to sleep.

When I awoke, a notification was waiting for me: u/SeienShin offered to give me his old bass C ICO ocarina! I am just overwhelmed with gratitude for his generosity. After weeks of waiting for my precious new-slash-old ocarina to traverse the ocean, it finally arrived a couple days ago. Thank you again, u/SeienShin!!

But the story doesn’t stop there…

While I was waiting for my bass to arrive, I received an email from Ebay: the alto NbN that I had been eyeing before had significantly dropped in price. Nowhere else online was it available for that cheap, but I had already spent my budget on shipping the bass, so what could I do? After I bemoaned my first-world tale of woe to my parents, the last thing I expected was that their response would be, “We’re giving you cash for Christmas, and don’t you dare think of using it on school loans. Get the other ocarina!”

Without further ado, I present to you, 하루 (Haru) and よる (Yoru):

[Pictures and ocarina reviews under the cut]

Yoru’s name comes from the Japanese word 夜, which means “night” (as in NbN).

Impressions:

The NbN is heavier than I expected. Since it’s plastic, I thought it would feel like a toy, but this is one solid ocarina.

I wish that there was a groove for the subholes...

The high notes don’t hurt my ears!! I have high sensory sensitivities but I’m pleasantly surprised that I can handle them. This ocarina is pretty loud, though. Thanks to a suggestion from u/idayam, wearing a face mask while playing significantly muffles the sound, but the pitch does sound a bit altered to me.

Haru is “day” in Korean. I was hoping to find a Chinese name since the ICO was crafted in China, but “Haru” matched “Yoru” so nicely in both meanings and sounds that I couldn’t resist.

Impressions:

The sound is GORGEOUS, and the vibrations from the resonance are so fun. I feel like I get swept away when I play this.

The subholes have grooves for my fingers! The finger holes in general are pretty big compared to the NbN, but I manage to cover them pretty well except for the left pinky hole. That one is so wide, I can fit my pinky in until the first knuckle! After a short while, that finger starts to hurt from trying to stay in position. Does anyone have any tips?

The size makes it hard to see the left hand holes, but I think I’m doing pretty well regarding that. Still, it’s weird to switch to the NbN and suddenly see everything again. Not a problem though!

Anyways, I’m having such a fun time learning the ocarina. I’ve played a bit of piano and dabbled in violin, but this is my first woodwind. It’s such an interesting experience to think about how breath pressure or tongue movements affect the sound.

Also, since I received both of these ocarinas secondhand, I cleaned them with antibacterial soap. I dunked the NbN in a bowl of soap + water, and I wiped the outside of the ICO with soap + water and stuck a piece of soapy paper through the mouthpiece. I wasn't sure how the clay would react if I immersed it in water too, but since it hasn't been played in years, the cleaning was really just an extra precaution.

Whoops, this post is longer than I had anticipated, so I’ll post my videos separately.

If you read this far, thanks! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

[moonpiemoonshine]

Dirt and Grime pt.2

(A Barney Ross fanfic)

The next night the men had found themselves in a busy bar. Barney had noticed how honey had not shown up to the bar just yet. Him and his crew had started their drinking and celebratory partying. After about an hour Honey had arrived at the bar, dressed in short jean shorts and a tight fit tank top. She headed towards the bar and took two quick shots of tequila to get herself loose and more active. After her drinks she grabbed a man’s beer out of his hands and headed towards the crew. The men let out hollers and whistles at the woman, Barney is unimpressed with his crew but was heavily impressed with Honeys look.

“Hey boys” she said sitting alongside them in a sing song tone, “you just sit here or do you actually party?” She asked in anticipation.

“We have about another hour before people leave then we fully party” Lee said and this excited Honey.

“That gives me an hour to do what I do best” she smirked and downed her drink, she saw Gunnar’s full drink besides her and she quickly downed his. She left with a cocky giggle and went to the dance floor.

Barney kept his eyes glued on the girl, grimacing when he sees men get too close. He enjoyed watching her have fun and dancing. Barney did notice the heavy amount of drinking she had been doing but her actions haven’t been distorted in anyway so he didn’t worry. He was tempted to go in and dance with the woman but he knew it wasn’t a good idea, he death glared Caesar and Gunnar for dancing with her making them back off.

After the big crowd of people left it was just the crew, Tool had also shown up once the crowd had disappeared. The men were laughing loud and playing a drunken game of poker. Insults and jokes being thrown around and good alcohol being shared in the crew. Knife throwing competitions happen and drinking contests follow. After a while the boys had finally noticed the mechanical bull in the corner of the building. One by one the men had tired it out but they were so disoriented they only lasted little less than a minute. Barney tried to impress Honey on the bull, trying to last the best out of the group. After he had fallen Honey broke into laugher and knew it was her turn to get on the bull. She sauntered her way up to the bull, taking Tools hat while getting to it. The men whooped while she got on the bull and they all laughed and cheered seeing her last longer than them. But a last she fallen off and Barney was quick to help her up.

“Woah there cowgirl, can’t have you sleeping on the floor” he chuckled while getting her up.

“Yea, there are much better places to be sleeping right now” she replied in a flirty tone.

The party continued but only for a little while. One by one all the men started to go home. Honey leaned on the outside of the bar waiting in the cold. Every once in a while looking down at her phone. Barney grew worried for the girl, wanting so desperately to help her but not wanting to creep her out. After a bit a car had finally pulled up in front of the bar. Honey had took a few steps to the car but looked back at him and quickly jogged over to the man.

“It was great to work and party with you B” she lightly slurred with a wide grin. She planted a quick kiss on his lips before she jogged back to the car and quickly getting in.

Barney was stunned but happy. He hoped his small signals had worked on her, but again he knew she must have been a bit drunk so she most definitely won’t remember. Honey had Barney on her mind, and with thinking about him she was thinking about the hanger. She had given her driver directions to the hanger and she had stumbled into the hanger and walked around the barren building. She had went up to the giant plane and leaned against it. She had climbed up the wing and laid down on the nose of the plane. She looked up at the stars and tipped the cowboy hat down over her eyes. She let her heavy eyelids shut, letting herself fall asleep.

Late the next afternoon Barney headed to the hanger. He was delightfully shocked when he saw Honey, sprawled out on the nose fully asleep. He let out a light chuckle and he knocked on the side of the plane. This action waking up the sleeping girl and she quickly sat up and looked around to assist where she was at.

“Morning cowgirl, this the sleeping place you were talking about” Gunnar joked and Honey laughed to herself.

“Not exactly” she stated and slid down the side of the plane. She landed in Gunnar’s arms and she let out a soft squeal.

“What all do you remember? No way you deliberately wanted to sleep here” Barney asked letting the girl down but still holding her steady.

“I remember the throwing contest, shot contest, the bull, waiting outside, and…” she trailed on faking forgetfulness but held a sly smirk on her face and went in and gave the man a kiss. He was stunned but kissed back and once they pulled away form each other she continued, “that seems to be about it” she finished and Barney smiled.

“Glad you remember the best parts” Barney replied and the two smiled. “You need a ride home?” He asked causally and Honey had not even thought of that.

“If you don’t mind, I have a dog I need to make sure didn’t pee on the carpet” she answered and Barney smiled.

Barney led her to his motorcycle and Honey couldn’t help but snicker at the customization he had done to it. She was quick to hop on and get going. Barney was happy to see how eager she was to get on the bike. She had pointed and showed Barney the way to her house. Barney had not really assumed that she would’ve lived out in the countryside of the city. He found the landscape beautiful and calming.

When he had seen her small little wooden house, in a empty country field he felt soft. This was a serene place he’d love to live. The quietness and beauty matched the woman holding onto him. He pulled up next her small white truck and she was slightly quick to get off the bike.

“Thanks for the ride Barney” she said to the man, he was listening but was busy looking at the scenery.

“It’s no problem” he replied sounding distracted.

“Keep me updated about the next job” she said while walking to her door.

When she opened the door her red heeler had practically jumped out the door. She let out a small squeal in excitement and picked up her dog and walked into her home. Barney longed for the feeling. The feeling of coming home to a beautiful place and someone that loves you.

Barney wanted to see Honey every moment he found himself alone. He hated having to only see her during work. He knew that forming this connection wouldn’t be a good idea in his line of work. He didn’t know if she even wanted it. He was older and she had so much time and so much potential. Barney’s head was full of the young woman, wanting what’s best for her, but also he knows she could bring out the best of him.

After a couple weeks another job had been assigned. Barney had called in a few get together before hand but Honey had never showed up to any of them. He took this as a sign that she wasn’t interested in them or him besides from work. He doesn’t blame her, she lives in a dream and she would wanna stay in it as much as possible. He kept her in the loop through quick calls and the rare text. Once the day of leaving for the job came up he was on edge waiting for Honey. He wanted to see her, and he had to keep a cool and content composure while waiting for her at the hanger. All the men on the team all traveled by motorcycle, but Honey usually went around in a small white truck.

His nerves were put to rest when he saw the white truck in the distance. He had let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. Once she was out of the truck she was decked out in all black attire like the rest of the team usually wore. Barney was admiring her from the ground up but when he finally got her face he was confused. A bruise had adorned her left temple and the corner of her mouth. She kept a normal expression on her face when she walked up to Barney.

“Hey,” is all Barney could say. He didn’t wanna pry and he knew she didn’t need to tell him anything.

Honey gave him a small smile in acknowledgment while passing him and went to a work bench. She had taken two small hand guns that were on the bench and grabbed ammunition for them. She packed them into her bag and had quickly loaded into the plane. Barney wanted to think she was on edge but he remembered that when he had saw her last it was just him and Honey alone. He also knew she was usually quiet and wanted things done in her own pace. She was drunk the last time he had seen her in a social setting so he needed to not fret about her. Now all on the plane they were off to some European country to stop a group of terrorist making a human hostage situation. While on the plane Gunnar had finally noticed Honeys face and decided to use it a way to fill the silence in the metal bird.

“Hey nice shiner, you gave it to you” Gunnar asked in a crude tone.

“Bar hoping, I broke out two fights and I couldn’t help but join” she said focusing on sharpening her blades.

“You? Bar hop? On your own time?” Gunnar retorted in a disbelieving manner.

“Well yea, between this and my training I do at home I got all the free time in the world.” She stated unenthused, “unlike you sitting around doing nothing, and failing to touchin’ it aren’t really my ideal past times” she finished causing some men to snicker at Gunnar’s now flustered face.

Once the arrived it was dark so they had to quickly get on the scene and try to shut it down. They all crouched onto a ledge and looked down into a small canyon full of people. Most in uniform but the rest were all in civilian clothes. Barney passed around a pair of binoculars and once they reached Honey she grumbled at the sight.

“Ugh not these guys” she groaned under her breath while giving the binoculars back to Barney.

Barney had heard her comment and decided to ask her about it later. He gave the command for the crew to fall in and start taking them out. Honey was quick to go to a separate cliff edge and clung to the bottom of it and used a free hand to grab a gun strapped to herself and she waited for just the right moment. She allowed the crew to get a little close and she let out three shots down into the camp and the three shots had landed on three of the men in uniform and once they had noticed the men were hit, the rest of the crew had fallen into the camp and started taking down the men. Honey let go of the cliff and started to slide down the edge of it, while sliding she pulled up the back mask cloth she had hanging around her neck and pulled it over her nose.

She got into the camp and using her knife she had taken out the two men guarding the hostages. Using a small clean baby knife she cut a man free and gave him the knife telling him to free the rest. She left quickly to take out nearby uniformed men. Honey had been spotted and a man holding a machete had tackled her to the ground, he had grazed her sides with the sharp machete but Honey maneuvered her gun to his side and shot him. She had left him there on the ground knowing he would die from the gun wound, and was quickly onto another uniformed man to get rid of. During this fight her opponent was much bigger and she had suffered a much bigger wound from him. She had gotten him onto the rocks and he used a rock to make the gash from her previous cut bigger with a rock. During their altercation her mask had fallen down and the man was set into a whole different gear. He had brought out a specialty gun with pellets full a weird substance.

Honey finally used her gun and used the rocks besides her to ricochet the bullet into the man’s head. It was too late for Honey to put her mask back up cause another man had seen her. She had to take precautions to not get hit by their bullets, so she mostly used her two guns strapped to her. Her fast movements and precise marksmanship was knocking lots of men down one by one, but she was caught and held down by another bigger man and he was trying to stab a syringe type thing into her. Her resistance was good, and finally she had gotten her hand into a good position to snap the needle, and when she did she stabbed it into her eyes and she was quick to put a bullet in him when she got up. She took out more men, having to struggle a bit form the pain of her side but once she noticed the fighting was gone when she had taken down the last guy she felt like she could barley walk. She stumbled to the rest of the team and let them know she had let the hostages go and they were safe. The team decided that they’d set up camp next to the plane for the night and leave in the morning. When they reached the base of the cliff and knew they needed to hike up it Honey knew she wasn’t gonna be able to make it up.

“Caesar, my guts might fall out my side right now. I need you to help me up there” she asked and had pressed her palm to the gash showing Caesar the severity of her injury.

Barney heard her statement and looked back and watched Caesar as he held the girl on her back and hiked up with her. Barney knew Caesar could hold Honey with ease, but he constantly looked back making sure she was alright. When they reached the top of the cliff Honey wanted to walk but Caesar wouldn’t allow her and he carried her all the way back to the plane. The men set up a small makeshift fire and set out small tents and started to prep their meals for the night.

Barney sat close to Honey while she rummaged through her bag for her medical supplies. Honey propped up her knife and planned to use it as a makeshift mirror. She took off her black compression shirt and rubbed her numbing paste on the giant wound. Barney could see her slightly struggling to see where she was stitching up her wound since she couldn’t see all that well from her small knife. Barney turned to see Gunnar wiping off his giant machete and a idea hit Barney.

“Gunnar, lemme borrow that for a sec” Barney asked taking the machete not giving Gunnar a choice in the matter.

Barney moved Honey’s knife and replaced it with the machete. Honey thanked the man, now having better confidence in her movements. She finished stitching the wound quickly and put some more ointment in the injury. She slid the machete back to Gunnar and quickly put her shirt back on and re prepped the equipment.

“Anyone need me to overlook anything” she asked and most of the men nodded their heads.

Honey went through putting her ointment on the men and cleaning up the occasional busted face or cut on the arm. She was gentle, her pacing being a swift but calming one. She had finally reached Barney and all he had was a small cut on his brow so she just dampened her fingers with a simple but much stronger disinfectant for him. He kept his gaze on the woman, not caring since the men were laughing and busy eating to care what he was doing.

“You knew those guys” Barney asked once she finished.

“Yea. You know in comics how there’s always some super drug to make the perfect soldier” she said putting her things away, “these men think my mother had made that, and they think that she’s still alive to give it to them” she finished and finally relaxed and looked at the man. “They are the ones who gave me this busted up face. They think they’ll find her through me” she stated blandly and this pricked a sense of worry in Barney.

“Do they bother you a lot?” He asked hoping to ease this worry.

“No, just every once in a while. When they get desperate” she said and laid down.

Barney had no idea how to respond. So he just laid down next to her. He wanted to turn and hold her close but he knew he couldn’t. Honey was at ease and super relaxed. She didn’t know why Barney gave her this effect but she didn’t mind. She would love to be around him more just for this feeling but she knew she couldn’t. Barney was a busy man and she didn’t wanna interfere with his work. The next morning came quick and the group was quick to leave for home. They had all been wanting to go back so they could party and celebrate their quick victory. Unknowing to Honey, Barney was finally vocalizing his feelings but not to her, but to his co pilot Lee Christmas.

“What’s on your mind. It’s not here with me obviously. What’s more important than me?” Lee asked in a joking but also sincere ish tone.

“It’s a woman-“ Barney started with a sigh.

“You’re not lying to me are you? You having woman issues isn’t a real thing” Lee said being quick to cut him off.

“I wish I was lying. It’s..” Barney was conflicted, he really didn’t know if he should tell him but he trusted him. “..Honey, she’s been on my mind since the last job” he sighed.

“Woah, I would’ve never guess that spitfire got your brain into more mush than it already was” Lee commented but let Barney continue.

“We shared two kisses, one where she was drunk but another one the day after and just don’t know what to do” he said feeling a little weird talking about this. He didn’t like being open but he knew he needed to.

“Didn’t know you were a charmer” he joked and Barney looked at him with a unenthused look, “well I know it’ll be weird but you gotta talk to her about it. You don’t know how it’ll go if you two get together but still doing work here” he continued making a genuine effort to help.

“Yea, I just gotta find the right time to” Barney said in a worn out tone.

“Don’t do it too late or nothing will come out good” he started peaking Barney’s interests, “gotta find the sweet spot” he finished in a joke and Barney rolled his eyes.

When they landed they all were quick to leave. Honey was notably the last one to go alongside Barney. She wanted to make sure her side wasn’t gonna bother her while she driving so she stayed in the hanger trying to wrap her body. Barney had noticed her and wanted to help and didn’t need to worry about prying eyes. He came up behind the girl and took the wrap out of her hands and started to take over for her. Once the wrap had ended Honey had made sure to secure it to her body. She looked up at the man holding the eye contact with a loving gaze, not realizing their hands were grazing each other.

“Thank you again, Barney.” She said getting snapped out of their gaze and started to walk off putting her shirt back on. Barney had followed her back out to the woman’s truck and helped her into it. She had rolled down the window and Barney leaned into the truck through the now empty window. “We partying tomorrow?” She asked.

“Yep, we’re gonna be at Tools place around nine or so. Nothing to crazy” he said letting out a small crooked smile.

“Dang it, that plane was a comfy bed” she joked letting a small snicker leave her lips. “I’ll see ya tomorrow Barney” she ended rolling up the windows and leaving the hanger. Barney waved her bye while she drove off, he watched longingly as her truck slowly left his line of sight. Seeming to drive herself into the horizon.

The next night started off surprisingly hard. The men had been heavily drinking doing many drinking competitions. Honey was heavily involved in these competitions. She kept flirting with Barney but he didn’t start doing it back till he got more drinks into his system. Once the night got late the two didn’t really know what they were doing. The rest of the crew had left and it again was just Honey and Barney. Barney had called a ride for Honey to get home but while waiting in the cold, Honey was cold and held herself close to Barney. The hold then turned into the two drunkenly making out. Once the ride had shown up, Barney didn’t wanna leave her so he went into the car with her. They had been driven to her house and the two were quick to go into Honey’s bedroom. Usually Barney would try to look and really take in his surroundings and appreciate what would be in her house.

The next morning Honey was lightly starting to wake up but was violently woken up when Barney’s arm had slung over her side, and unknowingly hurting her injured side. She shot up and groaned from the pain and hit his arm off of her. At first Honey had thought it was some random guy she had in her bed but was shocked to see Barney. She couldn’t remember a thing from the night before, and she didn’t know what to do.

“Barney?”

[sleepyselkiesims]

Part 48

Well, Delana exited the picture just in time for Ariel's final birthday! Of course, the whole family had to be there!

It also just so happened to be Cassie's birthday! She got to go first, totally not just to prolong the inevitable.

As always, Attina didn't celebrate. Though Arista joining in the mischief was a surprise.

Cassie did not seem to appreciate all the old ladies cheering her on. Maybe she would've cared more if they were fairy godmothers there to give her gifts?

Well, the important thing was that her momma was there to cheer her on!

Happy birthday, Cassie! I'm sure you'll find plenty of new ways to get in trouble!

Erika was confused when the first of the triplets stepped up to the plate. If this was Ariel's birthday, and she was part of these triplets, then why was that one sister younger than them??

Anyway, Happy Birthday, Adrina!

Gotta love that old lady back! ...wait, her eldest daughter is totally gonna end up raising Adrina's newborn now. Whoops.

Overall, the birthday reactions were all over the place! There were reasons to cheer, laugh, cry, feel a little depressed... good times.

Poor Artista; no one ever celebrates her birthday!

Nonetheless, Arista aged into elderhood with gracefulness and inner peace. She'd lived a good life, filled with adventure. Even if no one ever saw it.

When Ariel took her place at the cake, Erika wrapped a comforting arm around her. It's like she could sense their time was coming to an end...

The rest of the sisters just cheered and made a ruckus to celebrate their... well, no longer babiest sister. Attina really made a mess of the age lineup!

As Ariel blew out the candles, not bothering to make a wish, Melody tried to cast some sort of spell on her. Family tradition at this point, I suppose.

Ariel aged up as joyfully as she did everything else, even if everyone else felt a bit melancholic.

She made such a cute old lady!!!

The 7 sisters left the venue as soon as the birthday sparkles faded. If I'd known this was going to be the last time I ever saw Apple, I'd probably have tried to get them to stay longer...

I also later found out that, despite trying to prolong Hinata's lifespan with pregnancies, Apple was still left a widow by Ariel's birthday.

Once everyone had gone, Melody called the family together for a big announcement.

Though it was sooner than anticipated, the benevolent god had realised that there wasn't anything they really had left to do with Ariel now. So, it was time for Melody to begin her own chapter.

Ariel couldn't have been more thrilled or supportive! Her little girl was taking a big step into the great unknown! Willingly going on her own adventure! Melody could only hope she made her momma proud.

And she made each member of her family promise they would pay her a visit whenever they could.

She gave a special thank you to Erika, for being such a nice step-mom. And she'd better keep an eye on Cassie while Melody was gone!

And finally, it was time to say goodbye to Ariel. She'd had a good run, and now that Melody was heading out on her own, it was time for the little mermaid to enjoy her happily ever after.

The End.

[silentprincessandsweethibiscus]

Four Minus one:

Chapter 3- Arson is a Totally Valid Pastime: Just a little lighthearted fun amongst the chaos squad, what could possibly go wrong?

And its done! this chapter took so much longer to write than i anticipated. it was giving me trouble right from the get-go, and then another hyper fixation decided to consume my whole brain for about a month, so im just glad to be putting this one up tbh. the next one is already in the works, and going better then this did, and the one after that is done, so fingers crossed i shouldnt disappear for over a month again.

The group of Links had fallen into an easy rhythm. Working in a team was a bit difficult for some of them, but a larger chunk than Four had expected fell into it at least somewhat naturally. Warriors, Sky, and surprisingly Wild all attributed it to being knights. Or at least, in Wild’s case, having the muscle memory of being a knight. Time vaguely mentioned something about a War. Wind talked about his life at sea. Twilight joked that it was no different to herding the kids back home, and refused to elaborate on if he meant goats or Hylian kids. Legend and Hyrule were the only two that really struggled with it. Although, it was easy enough to drag Wild and Wind into some kind of trouble as well. 

Which is exactly what was happening now. Wild, Wind, and Hyrule were all trying to talk Four into helping them with, something. They were honestly a bit unsure, with the three of them all talking over each other, but Wild had promised vegetable risotto for dinner if they helped, and there was no way Four was about to turn that down.

“I still don’t understand what it is you even need me for.” They looked up at the three, book open in their lap. Wild had not waited for Four to acknowledge them before they started talking, so Four had been unable to put it away before starting this conversation, and they were honestly a bit glad it wasn’t in Hylian, as they were pretty sure none of the three knew any other languages.

“Because it’s, like,” Wind thought about it for a moment. “It's like an experiment! Come on Four, you love those!”

“Plus,” Hyrule added, “Time says we need a ‘responsible Link’ if we are gonna walk away from camp to do anything with fire.” Four was fairly certain that Hyrule was adding on a bonus reason, not implying that Four wouldn’t also enjoy whatever chaos they wanted to get into, but they still raised their eyebrow in question of the phrasing.

Wild also recognized how that sentence could be misconstrued and elbowed Hyrule in the side. “But we were totally gonna invite you to help us anyways.”

Four laughed at that. “You better.” They gave the other three a wicked grin and dropped their voice to just above a whisper. “But, the longer Time, Twilight, and Warriors think I’m responsible the better. For all four of us.”

They got matching grins back from Wild and Hyrule, and a hearty “Whoop!” from Wind as they packed their book back away, and the four of them set off, away from camp. It was at this point that Four realized each of them had a flaming item in hand. Wild had a meteor rod, Wind his bow, and Hyrule had a fire rod Four was almost certain fea had ‘borrowed’ from Legend. 

As they walked, Four put some thought into it before pulling out their gust jar. “You three seem to have the fire covered, I’ve got this. Can put it out real quick if I need to be the responsible one, but that’s not the only thing it can do.”

As they got to the clearing Wild started pulling out firewood. “You are on ‘documentation’ and ‘put out’ duty then. We wanna see which item can make the biggest blaze before it runs out. Twenty bundles of wood for each of us should be a decent start.”

“Only twenty?” Hyrule raised an eyebrow. “We use like, three or four to start the campfire.”

“Yea,” Wind nodded, practically vibrating as he bounced around from foot to foot. “I feel like twenty is lowballing it a bit Wild.” Four laughed. “I’m with Wild. We want to see which item will make the largest blaze, not start a forest fire.” Pulling out one of their journals from their pack they began drawing up some charts to record the coming information on. “Twenty is more than enough to start.”

Wind blew a raspberry at Four. “Aw come on man, what happened to you not being a responsible Link?” “This isn’t responsible, this is knowing that starting a forest fire would skew our results.” They looked up from the journal. “I want accuracy.”

“And I don’t want an earful from Legend later.” Hyrule added with a chuckle, seeming like fae had just considered how upset faer’s predecessor would be if they got into any trouble out here.

“Right.” Wild nodded as they put down the last pile, all three of them set evenly around the clearing. “Then that's settled. There’s huge areas without trees in both mine and Rulie’s eras if we need to replicate this with a bigger pile later.” “This is a test experiment for the time being.” Four added with a nod. They stood in the middle of the clearing, gust jar at the ready, taking notes as the other three worked. They had to chase down several misfires from Wilds meteor rod, and it was the first to break. Followed by Hyrules magic for the fire rod running out, then Winds fire arrows. The blazes all seemed the same at the end of it, which would say some interesting things about the meteor rod, but all three of the fires seemed to be as big as they were gonna get without more wood, so the results were largely inconclusive. 

Four mused that when they had the chance they would have to replicate the experiment with a few different wood pile sizes as Hyrule drank a potion for the magic depletion and the other two packed up their stuff. Four began to mumble to themself, scratching more notes into their journal while trying to block out Wind and Wilds roughhousing in the background.

Wild said something and there was a blissful moment of silence from their friends before Four heard the telltale whistle of an arrow and felt someone shove them. Snapping back into focus, and throwing the journal into their pouch with practiced ease, Four made a quick check of their surroundings. They noted Hyrule in front of them, faer’s reflect spell dissipating after a moment, Wild was to their left, and Wind in place beside Hyrule. All four heroes pulled out their swords, just in time for the clearing to fill with Wind’s era’s miniblin. Further assessment determined the arrows to be coming from a few of Sky’s bokoblins hiding between the trees. 

The four of them quickly got to work, dancing around each other and taking out the miniblins, but the archers were creating a decent obstacle. They managed to cut the miniblins' numbers down by about a quarter, but the fewer of them there were the easier it became for the bokoblins to hit the heroes, instead of their own allies. An arrow managed to strike true, hitting Wind in the leg, making him stumble and miss the miniblin he was aiming for. Four jumped in to cover for him as he shouted obscenities that would make Blue both proud and horrified.

Wind took the cover to yank the arrow out and glared at the trees. “We need to take out the archers!”

There was a flash of blue as Wild exchanged their sword for a bow. “Four, you and I take them?” “Agreed. Wind, you’ve got me.” It was a statement, not a question, but Wind still nodded as he and Four traded places so Four could exchange their own weapons out. “I've got the Eastern half if you have the Western?”

Wild didn’t respond as they got into position, and the two still fighting with swords got back into a rhythm of covering them from miniblin attacks as they worked. Soon enough the bokoblin archers were dealt with, and the two Hylian archers turned their bows on the closer threat.

“At least these all seem to be normal monsters,” Wind chimed in as he took out another one, “None of them seem to have black blood.” “Don’t jinx us sailor, the fights not over yet.”  Four shouted as they shot a miniblin rounding on Hyrule. On que there was a booming roar and the group felt the ground shake. Fortunately for the heroes, the few remaining miniblins all shrieked and scattered. Unfortunately for them, a moment later a lynel entered the clearing.

“Shit! It's one of mine!” Wild replaced their bow for the oddest looking weapon Four had ever seen as they dodged an attack from their newest opponent. “Everyone scatter! Take it from different sides, and whatever you do, avoid its front!”

They watched as Wild immediately did exactly the opposite of what they just warned, crouching down right in the lynel’s path, and as Hyrule ran to the monster left, fae yelled in horror. “What are you doing?”

Wind and Four took the right as Wild shot up with a burst of air. The lynel stopped suddenly when its target shot out of view, giving the other three time to strike before it roared and turned to the biggest threat, shooting fire breath at the spot Four and Wind were in. Four yelped and jumped to its left, and Wind to its right. With Hyrule now at its back the three managed a few more hits before a blur flew down towards the monster's back. Despite its size Wild managed to slam the strange weapon against it several times in quick succession before the lynel finally dropped in a puff of smoke.

There were a few tense moments as they all waited for something else to come out of the woods. When nothing did Hyrule rounded on Wind and pointed at the ground. Wind threw up his hands and took a step back. “Whoa, whoa, I’m fine. Let's get back to camp first.”

“Unwise.” Four looked down at the spot where the arrow had pierced Wind. “Time and Warriors are already going to fuss over that wound as is. Would you prefer it to be open when they do? That would just give them more of a reason.”

There was a bark before Wolfie tried to gently make Wind sit with his paw. “See,” Wild added, “Even Wolfie agrees with Four.” There was a pause as Wind agreed with a grumble before Wild processed what they just said. “Oh Fuck! Wolfie!”

Wild’s wolf companion fixed them with an exasperated glare, barked once, booped Hyrule’s ankle with his nose, then fixed his glare back on Wild. Hyrule just nodded in response. “Read you loud and clear Wolfie. Wild, you're next.”

“No need. I just slammed it a bit hard on my landing there.” They pulled out their slate and started swiping the screen. “I just need a red potion. Four, do you need one?”

Four shook their head in response. “Nah, just some scrapes and bruises over here. I’ll probably bandage up a few of them when we get back to camp, but no need to waste a potion on any of it.”

“I want to look you over first, but you’re right, no need to waste a potion on that.”  Hyrule nodded as fae healed up Wind’s leg. 

Four agreed and Hyrule made quick work of checking them all over. Once fae declared them all clear enough to head back they turned to follow Wolfie back to camp. Sure that the four heroes were following him, the wolf shot off ahead, presumably to let the others know they were all fine and on their way back.

“So.” Wind dragged the single syllable out to an almost outrageous degree before continuing with a sigh. “How much trouble do you think we’re in?”

“I think that is entirely dependent on how long Wolfie was there.” Four mused. “Because if he saw the experiment, we might just be fucked.”

Wind snorted at their cursing as Wild shook their head. “He would have stepped in earlier if he was watching the whole time. He must have come when he heard the lynel.”

“It’s a wonder he’s the only one who came.” Hyrule was still on high alert, eyes and ears to the forest as they walked, but luckily whatever monsters had survived the encounter seem to have well and truly fled.

“We are all capable heroes, the others probably just sent Wolfie ahead as a precaution.” All of them, save Wild, Four supposed, had multiple quests under their belts, there was no reason for the others to second guess their abilities.

“Fours right! It was just one Lynel, we have all dealt with worse individually.” Wind was annoyed at the prospect of the others not trusting them to handle themselves. “It’d be pretty rude of them to assume we couldn’t handle it.”

“Right,” Wild nods in agreement, “So they probably sent Wolfie while they all got ready to go if there was a problem, since he’s the fastest.”

“Or they sent him because of that.” Hyrule interrupted the others' current trail of thought to point out the portal sitting dead center in the middle of their camp, or what was left of it anyways. While they had been fighting monsters in the woods the other Links had been packing up all their stuff so they could all move quickly once they got back.

Time tossed Wind his bag while Sky and Legend handed Four and Hyrule theirs. “Any injuries?”

“Nothing I haven't already dealt with.” Legend was fussing over Hyrule, despite faer’s confirmation that they were all fine, and Four couldn’t help but chuckle at how much of a mother cucco he was when it came to Hyrule.  “The four of us are all right to go.”

“Alright, good. We’ll discuss further what happened once we have settled in on the other side.” Time nodded in approval and moved towards the portal. “Alright, everyone, buddy up.” Four whispered to Wild as they and Sky walked past to take their place in line. “I’d better still be getting my vegetable risotto.”

Wild laughed as Twilight tilted his head in confusion next to them. “Don’t worry smithy, a promise is a promise. Dinners your call tonight.”

Four almost felt bad about the disappointed look on Twilight's face at that. “Good.” Almost. They smirked at their little victory. The small group's little arson detour didn’t actually have any discernible results, but they certainly had quite a few new notes for the journal they had been keeping on the other heroes, so the bribery was really unnecessary, but they wouldn’t be giving up their prize regardless. Four and Sky were the last two through the portal, and the others were already setting up camp on the other side, Wild's cooking pot set up with a small fire heating it from underneath.

[jellyfishonabudget]

BAM, type icons

If you're going to post pokemon art, you need type icons. So I drew my own!

Some of these are existing icons, some of these are self-made, and some of these are combinations of existing ones or tweaks to them.

Like for example, this normal-type icon. It's a combination of the icon for Normal in SWSH and before, and that of Battrio/Tretta. With a little bit of Mezas in there.

Fire and Water are pretty much existing icons (Water also being Battrio/Tretta). When I was designing Grass' icon though, I wasn't thinking of the icon from the Ranger series... I tried to add a little more energy to the icon for electric and forgot to color in the bolt dangit

I added a little aura to the fighting fist. Some respect to the very rare special category moves for fighting type. That's just the New Snap flying icon. I decided to take inspiration from Masters EX with the poison icon.. I like how it turned out. Ground's icon is just if MasEX and SWSH had a kid. Rock is also the MasEX icon.

I gave the bug icon little antennae! I cannot draw the moon. Psychic is just the tera jewel from SV. Ghost is a nice reference to one of my favorite series, leave a guess which series. Steel isn't inspired by any particular icon except maybe the modern one.

Ice is the MasEX icon with a dash of Mystery Dungeon DX. Dragon's icon is also the MasEX icon with a little mouth added. Fairy is some stupid hodge-podge of previous icons: GO-SWSH's weird light burst, Rumble Rush's heart, and the modern fairy symbol. oh my god i made the little tail ends too thin

And a bonus! Classic ??? type, and two fanmade types: Nuclear from Pokemon Uranium (awesome fangame go play) and Cosmic from Pokemon Infinity (also really cool).

WOW this got much longer than I anticipated. Whoops. Having never played Masters EX (i do not enjoy gacha anymore) I am surprised by how good the icons in it are.

Expect to see these used in future posts, and some touchups to them from time to time!

[broomballkraken]

Title: As in Coffee, As in Life Chapter 1: Plain Ol' Black Coffee

Fandom: Octopath Traveler 2

Pairing: Osvald/Partitio

Word count: 2270

Warnings: None

Fic Summary: “A bit o’ sweetness helps everythin’ along. As in coffee, as in life.” That was the mantra of Partitio and Roque Coffee Company. Partitio’s first customer on the opening day of the café, however, very much disagreed with this philosophy…well, the coffee part of it anyway. After learning more about Osvald, Partitio is determined to bring a little sweetness into the crestfallen professor’s life, whether he is ready for it or not.

Chapter Summary: Partitio is getting ready for the grand opening of his new café, and he ends up serving his very first customer a little earlier than he had anticipated.

“There, I reckon that’s everything…”

Partitio dragged an arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat, and he leaned on the handle of his boom as he gazed around his brand-spankin’ new café. It seemed like it was yesterday that he was walking across the stage at his college graduation, happier than pig in mud as he accepted his diploma. Now, just over a year later, he was opening his very own café in the city where he got his business degree, New Delsta.

A lot had happened between now and then, including the retirement of Partitio’s pops, which led to the rebranding of the coffee company from “Papp and Roque” to “Partitio and Roque.” Roque was still running the main shop in Partitio’s hometown of Oresrush, but Partitio didn’t know how much longer his step father would be on the scene; his pops was always badgering him to join him in retirement.

Partitio was all-too-willing to take over the business to allow Roque to do just that, but he also knew that Roque wasn’t just going to hand the entire company over to a greenhorn businessman like himself. Partitio was going to have to prove himself first, and he was determined to turn this humble little café into the most hoppin’ coffee joint in town!

As he stowed away his cleaning supplies and swapped his yellow coat for an apron, something outside caught Partitio’s eye. Someone was peeking in the window, with a curious look on his face as he tugged at his beard. Partitio beamed as he bounced to the door; it seemed like he was going to get his first customer a bit earlier than he had anticipated.

“Howdy there, friend!” Partitio said after he had swung the door open. The man jumped about a foot in the air and stared at Partitio like a deer in the headlights. When he recovered from the shock, the man straightened his posture as he fixed his askew glasses, and Partitio had to crane his neck to look him in the eye, which was unusual for someone as tall as Partitio was.

“Whoops, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle ya.” Partitio laughed as he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. The man glanced briefly at Partitio’s hand before he cleared his throat and took a step back.

“It’s quite alright, I should be going-”

“Wait!” Partitio beamed as he closed the distance between them again and placed both hands on the man’s shoulders this time, “I saw you lookin’ in my shop here, so you must have a hankerin’ for a drink, am I right?”

“Er, well, the prospect of a new coffee shop opening up did intrigue me, I must admit,” the man said, rubbing his chin as he looked at Partitio over his glasses, “but it looks like you’re not open yet.”

Partitio glanced behind him at the ‘Closed’ sign in the window, and he shrugged. “That’s fine! I think I can make a special exception for my very first customer! C’mon!” Partitio backed into the door until it was open, and he waved a hand in front of him as he shot the man a wink. The man hesitated a moment, before he stepped into the shop and Partitio closed the door behind him. He then rushed behind the counter and spread his arms wide.

“Welcome to the New Delsta branch of Partitio and Roque Coffee Company! What can I getcha, sir?” Partitio was practically shaking with excitement as the man approached the counter, humming as he gazed around the shop with a curious glint in his eyes. Partitio tried not to be too obvious as he sized him up. The man was taller than him, which was not something that Partitio ran into very often. He was pretty dressed up; he wore a vest and slacks under a trench coat, and his long, gorgeous hair was neatly tied up under a fancy top hat. If Partitio had to guess, he would say that this man was some sort of fancy businessman or maybe a lawyer, and the briefcase that he carried made Partitio think that one of those guesses must be right.

Leaning against the counter, Partitio waited patiently as the man scanned the menu that spanned the wall behind the counter, and he couldn’t wait to see what kind of complex drink he would have to make for his first order. Hopefully it would be something nice and challenging-

“I’ll have a large black coffee, please.”

“Huh?” Partitio straightened up as he blinked slowly and cocked his head to one side. “That’s it?”

“Yes?”

Partitio recovered from his surprised state, and he laughed as he shot the man a wink before he turned to the coffee pot. A plain ol’ black coffee, huh? Maybe he should have expected that from a man so sophisticated-looking that he might as well have walked right out of a high-profile court case and stumbled into his quaint little café.

“Well shoot, I thought my first drink order would be a bit more of a challenge. I think you’re just goin’ easy on me.”

“Not at all,” the man said, adjusting his glasses as Partitio glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, “The way I see it, the more bitter, the better.”

Partitio winced as he filled a mug and set in on the counter. Black coffee was really not his own cup of tea, but to each their own. “Well, I take mine with plenty o’ milk.”

“That’s absurd.” The man’s face scrunched up and he shook his head, and Partitio raised an eyebrow as he continued: “Milk blunts the bitterness from the beans...the very bitterness that stimulates the mind.” He seemed totally serious, and Partitio found his enthusiasm on the subject of coffee to be rather...alluring, even if he himself disagreed.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree there, Mr…?”

“Osvald.”

“Well, pleasure to meet you, Mr. Osvald! The name’s Partitio, and thankee kindly for bein’ my very first customer!” Partitio beamed at him, and an idea came to mind, so he quickly ducked behind the pastry case.

“As an added thanks, have a coffee cake on the house!”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Partitio chuckled as he held out the plate, tipping his hat at Osvald. “C’mon, take it!”

“...Thank you,” Osvald said after a long pause, and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at Partitio over his glasses, “But I’d like you to share it with me.”

Partitio’s eyes went wide at that, and he stole a glance at the clock. He still had 45 minutes until he had to open shop for real, and he had done all of the prep work already, so he gave Osvald a firm nod.

“Sure thing, friend! Let me make myself a drink first so I can join you proper.” After Osvald had paid for his coffee, Partitio quickly poured himself a cup before adding a generous amount of milk. The way that Osvald’s brow furrowed and lips pursed did not go unnoticed, and Partitio couldn’t help but snicker.

Partitio moved out from behind the counter, and they sat at one of the two-person tables. Osvald placed the plate between them, and Partitio wasted no time in splitting the cake evenly in half. He watched with bated breath as Osvald lifted his mug to his lips and took a sip of his piping hot coffee.

“This tastes...fantastic,” Osvald said as a smile crossed his face for the first time, and the beautiful sight gave Partitio pause. He felt his cheeks start to heat up, so he quickly blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Er, so...You mentioned ‘stimulating the mind’ back there, are you some kind of scientist or...?” Partitio had been so sure that he was a businessman or lawyer, but that comment from Osvald made Partitio think that he might be in a more academically-inclined career.

Osvald shrugged as he took a bite of the coffee cake, letting out a pleased hum. “You’re not far off. I actually teach chemistry at Solestia University. I moved here at the end of the previous school year, so this coming semester will be my first.”

Ah, so he was a professor! Partitio was kinda bummed that he had already graduated; Osvald seemed like he would be a very interesting teacher...not that Partitio would have needed to take a chemistry class in the first place, but having Osvald as a teacher might have incentivized him to take it as an elective.

“Well shoot, I just missed ya then!” Partitio laughed and took a sip of his drink. “I graduated last year with a business degree.”

“And you already own your own shop? Impressive.”

Partitio shrugged before scratching at his chin. “Well, I did have a head start. My pops and step dad started this company in my hometown. I’m just running this new branch here in New Delsta.”

“Still, if they trust you enough to run your own shop, then they must have complete confidence in your business sense and skills.”

“Aw shucks, you’re gonna make me blush here.” Partitio joked, but he did feel his cheeks heat up ever-so-slightly. Osvald was a rather charming man, but he seemed oblivious to the fact, and Partitio watched as Osvald finished off his coffee and his cake shortly after.

“Thank you, Partitio. Your coffee is truly a step above the rest, and the cake is rather delicious as well.”

“Thankee kindly!” Partitio’s heart swelled with pride as a toothy grin crossed his face. “I’ll admit, I was pretty nervous this morning, but you’ve been the best first customer, and I reckon that I can take on the entire day now, no sweat!”

Osvald chuckled as he folded his hands in front of him, giving Partitio a once-over. “Well, you certainly fooled me. I didn’t detect even the slightest bit of nervousness from you.”

Partitio decided to not tell Osvald that he had dropped his boom five times while cleaning because his palms had been sweating so badly, nor that he had been freaking out in the group chat with his roommates ever since he got to the shop. Instead, he took the empty dishes up to the counter and returned to the table with two fresh mugs of coffee.

As they sipped on their drinks, which were on opposite ends of the spectrum of coffee colors, Partitio rambled about his time at the university and suggested places around town for Osvald to check out, while Osvald listened, quiet and attentive. After their mugs had emptied once again, Osvald glanced at his watch and stood up.

“Ah, I need to get going. I still have to review my lecture notes before class,” he said, and Partitio nodded as he stood as well.

“And I’ve gotta get ready to open shop!” Partitio looked at the clock on the wall and saw that he had 15 minutes until the shop opened for business. He walked Osvald to the door and opened it for him, and he held out his free hand.

“Thankee kindly, Osvald, for being my very first customer!” Partitio beamed when Osvald smiled and took his hand, giving it a firm shake.

“I should be thanking you, Partitio,” Osvald said, his eyes locking with Partitio’s over his glasses, causing Partitio’s cheeks to flush pink. Golly, Osvald sure was attractive, and Partitio swallowed thickly as he tugged at his collar.

“...For helping me find a new coffee shop to frequent.”

“Does that mean that I’ll see you tomorrow?” Partitio blurted out without thinking, and his face flushed fully when Osvald nodded and tipped his hat.

“I believe so,” Osvald said as he started walking down the sidewalk, and Partitio stared at him as he paused and glanced over his shoulder, “Good luck with the rest of your opening day, and thank you again for the delicious coffee.”

Partitio’s heart raced as Osvald turned and walked away, and a huge smile slowly spread across Partitio’s face as he waved vigorously at him.

“Thankee kindly, Osvald! Have a good day, and see you tomorrow!”

Partitio watched him go, and an odd, warm and fuzzy feeling settled in his gut. Osvald seemed like a mighty fine person, and Partitio was looking forward to calling him one of his regulars.

“Oh no! Am I late?”

Partitio turned to see Agnea, one of his roommates and his very first employee, running up the sidewalk, and he grinned when she stopped in front of him, breathing heavily.

“Mornin’, Agnea!” Partitio said, chuckling at the panicked look on her face, “Don’tcha worry, we’re not open quite yet!”

Agnea let out a deep sigh. “Oh good! I saw that man leavin’ and thought I missed the grand opening, and being late on my first day wouldn’t look good at all.” She raised an eyebrow at Partitio and placed her hands on her hips. “Who was that, anyway?”

“Oh, just my very first customer! He was hangin’ out here takin’ a look through the window, so I let him in early.”

“Oh wow! How’d that go?”

Partitio filled Agnea in on his encounter with Osvald as they went inside and prepared for the grand opening. Soon enough, Partitio had flipped the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open,’ and got lost in the rhythm of running the café, but one thought managed to stay in the back of his mind: Partitio couldn’t wait to tell Osvald - his very first customer and self-proclaimed regular - all about the grand opening of Partitio and Roque Coffee Co.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Family Forged Between Realms - Part 2

Word count: 10,700

Pairing: Thor and Loki x gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: bullying coworkers, a bit of angst

I had a ton of fun writing this, but it ended up much longer than I anticipated! (whoops 😂)

The original storyline was based on this Prompt requesting a platonic Loki x reader fic where the reader is working with unkind coworkers, and Loki decides to get to the bottom of it. Another prompt requested to make it part 2 to Family Forged Between Realms, which just fit so perfectly! I hope you all enjoy!

Read Part 1

"Sometime today, please."

"Shut up, Loki - I'm thinking!"

Your tongue protruded slightly from the corner of your mouth as your eyes skimmed along the wooden blocks stacked in front of you. Cautiously, you lifted your index finger to prod ever so gently against the center block on one of the middle rows, retracting it immediately when you realized the block wasn't budging. A sigh of frustration burst through your nose as you continued to search for a loose block.

"Does this Jenga game always take this long?"

"Shh - Loki! Our dear friend is trying to concentrate."

"Thank you, Thor," you hummed, shooting Loki a narrow-eyed glare. He rolled his eyes in response, leaning his elbow on the table and propping his chin up in his hand.

You supposed you couldn't blame him for being bored - it had been Thor who'd suggested the three of you play some games from your childhood. The three of you had already taken turns playing Connect Four, followed by a game of Scattergories where Loki had absolutely decimated both you and Thor. Selfishly, you'd chosen Jenga next, knowing you were skilled at it.

You poked at the block on the right side of a row closer to the bottom, finding there was a bit more give with this one. As you gradually began to slide it out of its place, your cell phone began vibrating in your pocket. The sudden buzzing startled you, causing you to push a bit too hard on the block and jostle the one next to it loose. The entire tower toppled to the table with a crash.

"All that fuss, and this is where it got you?" Loki queried teasingly. The corner of his mouth twitched upward as he heard you groan defeatedly.

"My phone is ringing," you muttered, pulling your phone out of your pocket as you scooted your chair back and stood from the table. "That was an unfair distraction - I call a rematch!"

"Perhaps you shouldn't keep your cellular device in your pocket, if it's so distracting to you."

You turned your head to stick out your tongue at the mischievous god, earning a chuckle as you spun on your heel and left the room to take your call in private. Thor had already begun restacking the Jenga blocks on the table as you vanished into the living area of your apartment.

"Hello?"

“Hey – I have a huge favor to ask of you.”

The voice of one of your university friends echoed through the speaker of your cell phone. Mandy had been one of the few friends who carried through after you graduated from school. She'd started on the same biotechnology track you'd followed, but after a year she realized it wasn't what she truly wanted to do in life. After that, she'd dropped out in favor of pursuing her true passion in clothing design. Still, you'd kept in touch all these years despite how your paths had branched in different directions.

"I'm finally opening my boutique next Saturday."

"Mandy - that's awesome! Congratulations!" you gushed, pride surging through you for your friend. "Did you get that building over on Park Avenue like you'd wanted?"

"Yes! Near the little French café!" The elation was evident in her voice. "I'm so unbelievably excited!"

"I bet you are! But... what favor do you need from me?"

She paused for a moment. You could hear the boys bickering in the other room about how to set up the blocks, which made you snicker silently to yourself.

"I hired enough staff to run the shop from 8:00am to 8:00pm, but one of them just backed out on me. Without her, I'm missing some of the evening shift coverage. I'm working on hiring a replacement, but it'll be at least a couple months before I get someone new onboarded."

"So... sorry, I don't follow. How can I help?" Your brow furrowed in confusion.

"Well - you live a few blocks away, and I know you have flexible hours with Dr. Banner... And I know I can trust you, and you're so smart, and a hard worker, and-"

"Woah, woah. Are you asking me to work in your shop?"

"I would pay you!" she insisted quickly. "I know you'd do a great job, and it would only be until I hire someone..."

"Mandy - are you sure I'd be a good fit? I-hi mean, I don't have any fashion sense, you know as well as I do."

"You don't need to! You'd just be helping with tracking inventory and supervising the shop during business hours. It's all numbers, I swear!" There was a level of desperation in her tone that was starting to break your resolve. "I would owe you big time. Please??"

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. It had been years since you'd worked outside of the science field. And you weren't entirely sure you would fit in with the undoubtedly stylish and trendy patrons who would be frequenting her shop. But Mandy was a good friend. She'd been there for you through some rough times in the past, and you felt compelled to return the favor.

"Alright. I'll help you out for a few weeks."

"You are a LIFESAVER! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!" she squealed. "Let's meet up for coffee tomorrow to go over the details, ok?"

When you returned to the kitchen after finishing your call, you found Thor and Loki already locked in a Jenga match between the pair of them. For having griped so much about you taking your time on your own turn, Loki was spending an inordinate amount of time prodding at the blocks to take his turn. He hadn't noticed you enter. It was an opportunity too good to pass up.

Silently, you crept up behind him, hushing Thor with a finger pressed to your lips as his gaze flitted up to meet yours. Just as Loki finally began to slide a block out from the center of the tower, you extended your hands and dug your fingers into his ribs on either side. He barked out a laugh, jolting and sending the blocks of the tower tumbling across the table.

"What the- you!"

You leapt backward as his head whipped around to look at you, giggling and holding your hands up defensively.

"I-hi was just evening the plahaying field- NOHO LOKI!"

He swiftly advanced on you and caught you around the waist, wasting little time in wriggling his fingers into your ribcage. You twisted in his grip, pleading for Thor to assist through desperate giggles.

"Never mess with the God of Mischief - haven't you learned this by now?" he growled playfully, releasing you after a few more seconds of torment.

"Yeah, yeah..." you shrugged him off, rolling your eyes with a grin as you straightened your shirt.

"Who was it that contacted you?" Thor asked amicably.

"Oh, have I got a story for you two!"

You sat down at the table, rehashing the conversation with your friend. They listened intently, a gleam of amusement in their eyes as you explained how you'd be spending your evenings for the upcoming weeks.

"So our hangouts are gonna have to be a little later in the evening some days, just so you know," you explained.

"Perhaps we could simply come visit you at work?" Thor suggested. You snorted.

"Ahabsolutely not. I'm not giving you the address - you two harass me at work here already, I can't have you doing the same while I'm managing a shop."

"Are you suggesting you're embarrassed by our company?" Thor chided, poking your side.

"Ack- no, that is not what I'm suggesting," you retorted, swatting at his hand. "But you two have a tendency to be annoying big brothers sometimes."

"Who, us?" Loki gasped sarcastically.

"We're nothing of the sort!" Thor added with a poorly disguised grin.

"I'm not telling you - end of story," you declared, a finality in your tone. "Now then," - you reached for two of the blocks closest to your seat, beginning to set up the tower - "Let's get on with that rematch I asked for."

* * *

You arrived the following Saturday at the boutique promptly at 3:30 to begin your shift. The smell of new leather and subtle lavender met your nostrils the moment you stepped inside. Mandy must have been toying with pleasant fragrances to entice people to stay and browse longer, you thought. A clever trick. And you certainly weren’t complaining about the flowery scent.

The shop itself was moderately sized, but Mandy had strategically made use of open space to make it feel much larger. Various rows of clothing racks stocked with vibrant patterns and classic neutrals lined the walls. A few mannequins were scattered throughout the store, fashioning some of Mandy’s favorite outfits to make them stand out. A few lavishly cushioned sofas and armchairs were set out in the center of the boutique. In the back, a small row of fitting rooms with full length mirrors standing outside were available to try on pieces, with aesthetic spotlight lighting overhead to bring out the color and shine of the clothing.

“Thank you SO much for doing this!!” Mandy exclaimed when she spotted you enter, rushing over to give you a hug. “You have NO idea how much I appreciate it!”

“The shop looks fantastic!” you praised with a smile. “Have you had a lot of customers so far?”

“It’s been steady for our opening day!” She beamed with pride. “We’re expecting a rush from 4 to 6 when the weekend workers are out and about, and it should die down before you close up.”

“You aren’t staying?”

Mandy offered you an apologetic smile. “I have to get over to the bank before they close to finish up some finance paperwork. But I have full confidence that you, Chloe and Samantha can close up without me! I trust you!” Her eyes lifted to glance at the checkout counter where a woman stood ringing out a customer. “Oh! Speaking of - I’ll introduce you to the other Saturday evening staff!”

The woman at the counter had an air of trendy elegance about her, both in the way she carried herself and the way she dressed. Her dress was on point with the current fashion magazines, and her honey blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders in effortless loose curls.

“Chloe! This is my friend!” Mandy exclaimed as she tugged you over by the wrist. The woman - Chloe, you gathered - glanced up from the register as she finished thanking the customer for shopping. You felt uncomfortably exposed as her blue eyes skimmed over your dress clothes, a poorly disguised scowl pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“A pleasure,” she stated flatly, returning her attention to her work.

“Where is Sam hiding?”

Chloe looked up without bothering to turn her head. “Around.”

Seemingly unfazed by her indifference, Mandy began to lead you toward the back of the store where a closed door labeled ‘staff only’ stood in the opposite corner from the fitting rooms. As she reached for the handle, the door opened of its own accord, another woman emerging from the other side. She was similarly dressed in the latest style, brunette hair tied back in a loose bun.

“Oh! Hi Mandy, so sorry!” the woman squeaked in surprise. Her smile fell slightly when her eyes landed on you. “Is this a new customer..?”

Mandy introduced you to the woman - Samantha, as you learned. She greeted you with a smile that looked more like a grimace. You were beginning to feel more and more out of place by the second.

With a quick glance down at her wrist, Mandy’s eyes widened as she hastily began making her way toward the exit.

“I have to get moving or the bank is going to close - I’m so sorry! Chloe and Sam will go over all the closing procedures! Just make sure the register is balanced and the alarm is set before you lock up!” she gushed as she walked backwards toward the door. “And thanks again!!”

“It’s no problem!” you responded with what you hoped was a cheerful tone. With that, your friend slipped out the door, leaving you alone with the other two employees.

You decided to spend some time familiarizing yourself with the inventory in the back room and reviewing the log books for the start of your shift. Chloe continued assisting patrons as they checked out their purchases at the register, while Sam flitted around the shop asking if customers needed help or simply complementing their selections. They were, truthfully, both very good at their jobs. You could understand now why Mandy had hired them. Perhaps once you got to know them better, they would warm up to you more.

After an hour or so in the back, you popped out into the main boutique again to find the place flooded with patrons. You made your way over to the register where Chloe stood before a line of customers.

“Hey! I’ll help out up here, it’s getting pretty busy,” you offered, stepping around behind the counter to join her. Chloe raised her impeccably manicured brows at you.

“I’ve got things under control here,” she assured sharply.

“The line is seven people long,” you argued, “I’m happy to help speed things up. It’s a lot for one person.”

With a chaste apology to the customer who had just stepped up to the register, Chloe grasped your arm above your elbow and led you a few feet away from the counter.

“I think it would be best if you stayed in the back,” she suggested in a hushed tone.

“Why?”

“Well…” Her eyes scanned up and down the length of your body. “Mandy is looking to attract a certain clientele. And you… well, you just aren’t dressed the part to bring in those clients.”

You felt a rush of heat in your cheeks, both out of anger and embarrassment. “So then, what exactly do you propose I do?”

"Balance the finance books? Count inventory? Organize the stockroom?" she shrugged apathetically. "I don't really care, to be honest. Just stay out of sight."

Without another word, she turned her back on you and returned to the register to continue ringing out customers. Biting your tongue to keep from lashing out, you swiftly stepped out from behind the counter and made your way to the back room, glad for a moment alone.

As closing time drew nearer, you began to grow restless. There was only so much inventory counting you could do, being only the first day open. Perhaps there was some tidying that you could do as the customer numbers began to dwindle toward the end of the night. Grabbing a broom and dustpan from the storage closet in the back, you made your way back out to the main boutique to sweep up the dust and dirt of the busy New York streets that had been tracked inside over the course of the day.

"What are you doing??"

You froze on the spot, startled by Sam's sudden shrieking. She glanced around hurriedly, as though trying to evaluate how many patrons saw you, before scurrying over to you and draping an arm around your shoulders.

"Don't worry about cleaning up, alright? It will be taken care of, I promise," she assured in a sickeningly sweet, yet condescending tone.

"Who else is going to do it?"

"Er... Mandy has... a cleaning crew that comes after hours." You could tell by her sudden fidgeting she was lying through her teeth. Narrowing your eyes, you set the broom against the wall beside you and folded your arms across your chest.

"What's the big problem with me doing some tidying up? I'm sure the cleaning crew will appreciate the help," you drawled. Sam leaned in closer so she could speak in a low whisper.

"I think it's just better that you stay out of sight, ok? With an outfit like that..." She shuddered as though thoroughly disturbed by your clothing. "Let's just find you something to do in the back room, alright?"

Sam began to pressure you toward the door to the stockroom with the arm still wrapped over your shoulders. Scoffing, you ducked out from under her arm, grabbing the broom from where you'd left it.

"I can walk by myself, thank you."

Feeling no desire to continue the argument, you reluctantly made your way back to the stockroom and slammed the door shut behind you. With a frustrated sigh, you leaned back against the door, allowing your head to rest against the polished wood. You didn't view yourself as a fashion icon by any means, but you didn't think your style was all that bad.

When the store finally closed at 8pm, you were finally able to exit the stockroom without any griping from your coworkers. The three of you worked in silence as you counted the register contents and locked them up in a safe in the back. Trying your best to be cordial, considering you'd be working with these ladies for at least a couple months, you amicably bade them goodnight as you all parted ways. Both responded with a curt farewell before climbing into their cars and driving off down the street.

During your short walk back to the tower, you thought more about the events of the evening. Maybe you'd do a bit of shopping yourself before your next shift just to get these women off your back. After all - you did want Mandy to succeed, and if Chloe and Sam who were good at their jobs thought you weren't dressing the part, maybe you could spare a bit of effort for your friend's sake.

You'd have been lying if you'd said you weren't looking forward to your sneakers and lab coat when you went to work in Dr. Banner's lab the next morning.

* * *

Over the next week, you worked three additional shifts. Mandy had seven people working for her, and by the following Sunday, you'd worked with all of them at least once. And not one of them seemed to like you.

Every day was more of the same. Even after you'd gone out shopping for some new clothes, it seemed you just weren't stylish enough to placate the other trendy staff members of the boutique. By the third shift, you began simply trying to avoid them all rather than attempting to make conversation. It was beginning to wear on you.

"Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" You glanced up from the television screen at the sound of Thor's voice beside you. He and Loki had dropped by your apartment on your evening off to check in and see how things were going. It was unlike you to go longer than a few days without visiting the Avengers suite, you knew. But after working during the day for Dr. Banner and then spending your evenings hiding from your coworkers, the idea of actually socializing was sort of exhausting.

"You seem distracted this evening," Thor elaborated. "Normally you've made at least three or four snide comments about this film by this point, but you haven't said a word since we've started watching."

"I'm just tired," you reasoned flippantly. "Long hours working two jobs, you know?"

Thor leaned forward to gaze at Loki across the sofa. "Brother? Is our dear friend lying?"

Loki squinted at you as he analyzed your facial expression. You weren't certain how the God of Lies executed his magical lie detector tests. Taking slow, deep breaths through your nose, you attempted to slow your heart rate and maintain a straight, casual expression as his eyes bored into you.

"I'm not certain it was the whole truth," he declared finally, folding his arms sternly across his chest. "Come, now. Don't withhold information from us."

"Yes, tell us everything!" Thor concurred eagerly. "We want to support you!"

"I'm telling you, I'm just tired!" you insisted, leaning back against the backrest and stretching your legs out to rest on the coffee table. "I'm not sure what else you're looking for here."

Thor's gaze flitted up to meet Loki's once again. They had some sort of brief, silent exchange that you couldn't quite read. Then, suddenly, Loki's hands clasped around your wrists.

"Wha- LOKI! What gives??" You yelped in surprise as he yanked your wrists closer to himself, holding your arms outstretched from your body. It all fell into place the second Thor's fingers suddenly slotted up under your arms.

"Tell us the truth!" Thor urged, a hint of suppressed laughter in his tone as he scratched at your uppermost ribs. You immediately exploded with belly laughter, yanking desperately against Loki's hold on your wrists to try to block the space under your arms.

"I-HI TOHOLD YOU AHALREADY!!"

"Mm, brother, you're not quite in the right spot," Loki mentioned casually, as if having a normal conversation.

"Ah, yes. Silly me."

Laughter turned to shrieks and noncoherent pleas when Thor shifted his focus to the softer, more pliant skin in the hollows under your arms. Loki's grip was far too strong for you to overcome, especially in this weakened state. Already, you'd become breathless, laughter falling silent. Thor seemed to pick up on it, kneading his way down your ribcage to your sides to allow you a slight reprieve.

"Will you tell us the truth now?" Thor pressured.

"Ihi swehehear I'm nohot hiding thihings!" you insisted desperately. Sensing your exhaustion, Thor relented and Loki released your wrists. You took a few deep breaths, greedily sucking in oxygen. "I'm just... a little stressed... is all."

"We shall take your word for it." Thor didn't sound overly convinced. "But please, know that you can tell us anything. We're family - right, brother?"

"Hmm? Oh - yes. Family." Loki had since gone back to reading, clearly no longer paying attention to anything Thor said. You could tell by the worried creases in his forehead when he looked at you that he was more concerned than he was letting on outwardly.

It really wasn't a big deal, you thought to yourself as you settled deeper into the sofa cushions to go back to watching your movie. It certainly wasn't enjoyable, of course, working with such outspoken coworkers. But as long as you stayed hidden away in the stockroom, the shifts went by fairly smoothly. You liked to think they had Mandy's best interests in mind, although you wished they could be a bit more tactful about it.

* * *

After about a month working in the boutique, you weren't so sure how much more you could take.

Rather than your relationships with your coworkers improving over time, as you'd hoped, things seemed to only get worse between you. Not a day went by that someone didn't make some snide comment about the way you dressed, or the way you'd styled your hair. If you even so much as attempted to help with anything outside of the stockroom during business hours, you received a sharp scolding. It had truly crossed over the threshold from rudeness to straight up bullying.

How ridiculous, you thought. Being bullied in grade school was unfortunately a common occurrence, but you were a full-grown adult at this point. It was childish and silly to get so worked up over bullies at your age. And yet, you couldn't help but wince at the sharp sting of their words every time they said something cruel to you. Each dig sliced deeper and deeper into your skin, reopening the same wound that was simply never given the time to heal.

It felt juvenile to tell anyone about your plight with your coworkers. Informing Mandy about the situation seemed almost akin to "tattling" to the teacher. While you weren't above it in grade school, it felt embarrassing to even consider doing so in your adulthood. There was always the option to quit, you knew, but you knew it would make things harder on your friend. Your altruism and stubborn resolve prevented you from abandoning her in her time of need.

Thor and Loki had already begun to notice your change in demeanor after the first week, but you only seemed to regress further as time wore on. Days at a time went by without them hearing from you. When you did allow them to stop by for a visit, you were distant and devoid of your usual lively spark. They didn't want to pry - you'd made it fairly clear you weren't interested in discussing whatever it was that had been bothering you. But your surrogate brothers were genuinely beginning to worry about you - even Loki, despite the aloof front he put on whenever Thor tried to discuss the matter with him.

After an entire week went by without a word from you, Thor decided he'd had enough.

"Brother!" he shouted as he pounded with his closed fist on Loki's closed bedroom door early one morning. "I know you're in there! Open the door and speak with me - this is important!"

The younger Asgardian finally appeared in the doorway, scowling at the elder for disturbing him.

"What could possibly be so important that you felt the need to come here clobbering my door at this time of morning?"

Thor brushed past him to enter his room as he often did, despite how much he knew it irked Loki. "Have you not taken any notice to the fact that our honorary sibling has not called on us in over a week's time??"

"That is what compelled you to barrage my door?!" Loki pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he turned toward his older brother.

"Is our dear friend's welfare not cause enough for your concern?" Thor snapped back.

"Of course I'm concerned! I've been worried sick for weeks!"

The moment the words burst from his mouth, Loki appeared a bit sheepish. Of course Thor knew he cared about you - he simply wasn't one to broadcast his emotions in such outbursts.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Loki spoke again in a much more controlled tone. "W-what is it that's made you decide today that this is an emergency?"

"They are due to come in to work in Banner's lab this morning," Thor explained. "You and I both know they would never miss work - if they will not come to us, we must go to them!"

"And you think that bombarding them while they work is going to make them more willing to tell us what's wrong?" Loki scoffed skeptically.

"We at least must try! Come with me, brother! They may never admit it to us, but they need our support more than ever."

Reluctantly, Loki trudged along behind his brother as Thor set off for Banner's lab. The God of Thunder was determined to get to the bottom of your troubles. Once Thor had set his mind on something, stopping him was akin to trying to halt a charging rhino.

As the brothers approached the door to the lab, the muffled sound of voices echoed from inside. Thor reached for the door handle anyhow, but Loki snatched hold of his elbow and tugged him away from the glass door and out of sight.

"Let go of me, bro- mmpf!" Thor's bellowing was cut short as Loki's palm slammed over his mouth.

"Shh! Banner is speaking with them - listen!" he hissed. Thor's chest deflated and his shoulders loosened as he calmed down, prompting Loki to remove his hand from over his mouth as Thor, too, began to listen.

"It's just... lately you seem to be sort of distracted when you come to work," Banner stated carefully. "I know you're working another job, but I need you to be on your game when you're working in the lab."

"I'm sorry. I've just... been working long hours lately," you responded shamefully.

"Yeah, I know. But your work here is what's most important, isn't it? Last week you wrote down the wrong number on the results of the nuclear arc reactor test. I nearly blew the place up trying to replicate the results - it was off by a full decimal place."

"I promise, Dr. Banner - I care more about my work here than anything."

"I believe you." Banner sounded frustrated still, but his tone softened. "Just try to let your work reflect that, ok?"

"Yes, Dr. Banner."

The guilt and shame laden in your voice made Thor's heart ache in his chest. He turned to Loki, who wore a similarly pained expression.

"It seems things are far worse than we realized, if our friend's work is suffering as well," Thor lamented.

"Yes, it would seem that way," Loki agreed somberly. "I don't suggest we enter the lab at the moment. They will only be humiliated if they realize we've overheard their conversation with Banner."

"Quite right, Loki. Let us leave them alone for the time being."

Both brothers were lost in deep thought as they returned to their dormitories. It was clear that you weren't going to speak to them about whatever was bothering you. Neither brother could stand to watch you suffer in silence any longer. But what could be done to help?

"Loki - I have another idea," Thor declared suddenly, grasping his brother's arm to stop him in the middle of the empty hallway. "It's obvious that whatever is bothering our sibling has something to do with the shop they have been working at - they were their usual upbeat self until they took the job for their friend."

"How astute of you, brother," Loki chided, rolling his eyes. Thor ignored Loki's outburst, continuing on with his explanation.

"If they refuse to tell us what's wrong, why don't we go and find out for ourselves?"

"And how do you propose we do that? We don't even know where this shop is located - as you may recall, they had no interest in providing us the opportunity to visit them while they were working."

"Loki... I'm surprised at you!" Thor chuckled, patting his shoulder heartily. "This sort of thing is right up your alley, is it not?"

"I don't follow."

"When they leave the tower this evening to go to the shop for work, we must follow them without being seen! Then we shall learn where their place of employment is located, and they will be none the wiser."

Loki snickered condescendingly. "You believe you can sneak around and pursue our dear friend without being detected?"

"Why not?"

"Thor - you are quite possibly the most conspicuous being I've ever known," Loki elaborated, shaking his head in amusement. "There is no possible way you could prowl around without being seen."

"I'll have you know that I am a master of disguise!" Thor argued. "I was able to travel the streets of Sakaar as a wanted man without anyone recognizing who I was!" Loki gazed at him skeptically, one brow raised. "... except Valkyrie of course. But she was the only one!"

"If you insist on following our friend this evening, I won't stop you," Loki sighed, conceding to his determined brother's resolve. "But know that if they catch us, you will be taking the fall for this dreadful plan."

"We won't be caught. Have some faith, dear brother."

The Asgardian duo made plans to meet up and hide just outside the tower entrance around the time you typically left for work. There were plenty of signs and topiaries surrounding the entrance for Thor and Loki to conceal themselves. Although, Loki was still not convinced his elder brother was capable of remaining unseen.

You were punctual as always. The brothers were ready and waiting when you appeared through the front entrance. Careful to keep their distance, Thor and Loki followed as you power walked along the crowded New York streets. Much to Loki's surprise, they were able to pursue you undetected. Thor insisted it was his aptitude for stealth - Loki simply chalked it up to you being obviously distracted, as you had been for weeks.

"Look - see, there it is!" Thor hissed excitedly as he pointed toward the building where you were ascending the small staircase to the front door.

"Yes - thank you, brother. I'd never have deduced that, had you not been here," Loki muttered sarcastically. "Now what?"

"Now we find a way inside without them noticing our presence, of course!"

Loki bit back a loud laugh. "You - the God of Thunder - are going to wander into a boutique completely undetected?"

"Yes... I suppose I am rather recognizable," Thor mumbled under his breath, pondering.

"I have a better idea."

Thor gazed curiously at his brother as a green shimmer of light blurred Loki from view for just a moment. When it vanished, in Loki's place stood a handsome, wealthy-appearing business man. HIs sharp facial features had transformed, now showing the face of a man with a neatly-trimmed beard and slicked back brunette hair, wearing a high-end pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes. Complete with an impeccably tailored navy suit overlaying a collared shirt, Loki now appeared to be the exact sort of clientele that would frequent a boutique such as this.

"Excellent, Loki!" Thor praised, patting him on the shoulder. "No one could possibly recognize you underneath this dashing and stylish façade!"

"I beg your pardon," - Loki smoothed the shoulder of his suit where Thor's massive hand had rumpled the fabric - "I like to think I am equally dashing in my usual form."

"Yes, well... we've strayed from the subject at hand. Go on and enter the shop - see what you can learn about our dear friend's sudden change in demeanor!"

Scoffing, Loki turned away from his brother and strode confidently down the sidewalk toward the entrance to your workplace.

You were nowhere to be seen when he stepped through the doorway into the boutique. A few other patrons were buzzing around the shop, sifting through the pricey fabrics and selecting pieces to try on. The only employee he noticed immediately was the young woman standing behind the front register. Her eyes flitted up to meet his as the door shut behind him, a sweet smile crossing her face as she shot him a seductive wink. Merely nodding once in acknowledgement, Loki began perusing the men's wear section as a ruse while he kept an eye out for you.

A solid fifteen minutes went by without any sign of your presence. Loki was approached once by another employee - a male this time, wearing a collared shirt unbuttoned at the top two buttons - but Loki declined the offer for assistance. He made the mistake of glancing once at the window, nearly groaning audibly when he saw Thor's face peeking through the end furthest from the front entrance. Deciding he'd been browsing for too long to justify not trying something on (and requiring an excuse to avoid eye contact with his gawking brother), he selected a suit off one of the racks and made his way toward the fitting rooms.

Then, suddenly, he caught sight of you exiting a door toward the back of the boutique. You almost appeared evasive, as though worried someone might catch you doing something you ought not to. Swiftly, Loki stopped at the nearest clothing rack to feign interest so he could remain within earshot.

"What is it this time??" the male employee suddenly snarled, advancing in your direction. You immediately bristled at the sound of his voice, shoulders pinned back to stand taller and prouder.

"Relax, Jay - I'm just getting an inventory count on the clearance rack," you sneered, making your way toward a rack in the back corner of the store marked with sale signs.

"In that getup? I don't think so," the man - Jay, Loki presumed - shot back. "You look like you fell into the dirty laundry pile at a thrift shop - it's hideous."

Loki's fist clenched tighter around the set of trousers he'd been pretending to consider buying. How dare this man speak to you in such a way?! Was this the person that was bothering you? He'd have the man's tongue cut out if that's what it took to make you happy again.

"I'll only be a few minutes - I don't think anyone will be blinded by my fashion choices in that short amount of time," you retorted bitterly, turning your back to the man. Suddenly, the woman at the register called out to you as well.

"Jason - what is she doing out again?" she drawled in annoyance. "Can't you supervise the nerd for ten minutes?"

That did it.

Loki turned sharply and began advancing toward the man antagonizing you, eyes blazing with fury behind his sunglasses. He'd nearly made it within arms reach of the man when a frantic waving at the window caught his eye.

Thor stood outside, still peering through the window, his arms flailing in a desperate attempt to catch Loki's attention. The moment he realized Loki had caught sight of him, Thor began motioning for him to exit the shop and rejoin him outside. Loki glanced back at you and your antagonistic coworker, seeing your retreating form as you returned to the back room and slammed the door shut behind you. Reluctantly - though he had a right mind to ignore his brother and lay this man out on the floor - Loki altered his course and strode out of the shop without a word.

"Brother!" Thor hissed once Loki was within earshot. "What happened in there?! You looked murderous for a moment!"

"Those other employees are foul, disgusting swine," he raged, dropping his illusion once he was away from view through the window. "I'm not leaving here until I've taught them a lesson about trifling with an Asgardian-"

"Loki! You cannot go back in there!" Thor interjected sternly. "What would our friend say if they were to see you storming into the shop wreaking havoc??"

Loki growled in frustration. Deep down, although he didn't dare to admit it aloud, he knew his brother was right. You hadn't desired their presence here in the first place - you'd be furious if he suddenly stormed back inside in his own Æsir form and began blasting these miscreants to Hel.

"Then what do you propose, dear brother?" he spat stubbornly.

"Let us return here at another time, while our sibling is working in the lab. We shall have a private word with their coworkers."

"Oh, I'll have more than a word-"

"Loki..."

The younger Asgardian rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let's return to the tower, then, before we're spotted."

* * *

Days later, while you were toiling away in Banner's lab, the brothers did indeed return to the boutique. This time, the pair of them entered together, with no illusions to prevent people from recognizing them. That was the intent, after all.

"Pardon," Thor announced himself politely as he and Loki approached the front register. A different woman stood behind the counter this afternoon, though she clearly shared the same arrogant confidence of her other colleagues. Her jaw slackened when her gaze landed on Thor's bulky form, a tinge of pink blossoming in her cheeks.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. God of Thunder?" she purred flirtatiously, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her words caught the attention of the other two employees in the shop, who suddenly meandered over to the front counter to listen. One of them was Jason, the man from the evening that Loki had entered the boutique in disguise. The other was an unfamiliar woman, walking around in fashionable but terribly impractical six-inch heels.

"We're looking for one of your employees," Loki cut in, nauseated by the woman batting her eyelashes at his brother. He provided them your name, at which all three of the employees immediately grimaced.

"They aren't on until this evening," the woman at the register responded curtly. "Might I be able to assist you with something?"

"No - you see, we aren't here to purchase anything," Thor explained as he casually inspected his hammer. "We were simply looking for our sibling - we thought they might be here."

"Sibling?" Jason asked incredulously, poorly suppressing a laugh.

"You are surprised by this?" Thor glanced up from his hammer, allowing his arm to drop to his side.

"Well... yeah, actually. Aren't you two from another planet?"

"Realm, actually," Loki corrected with a glare.

"Not all family ties are bound by blood," Thor added. "Am I to assume, then, that you don't know where they are at the moment?"

"We... don't really interact outside of work," the other woman reasoned, wincing at the thought.

"Well then - we'd best be on our way. Right, Loki?"

"Yes - it seems we've wasted our time," he concurred. As he began to turn toward the door, he paused and looked back at the three dumbfounded employees. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a slip of paper and a pen, jotting down the phone number to the tower secretary and handing it to the woman at the register. "Do contact us if you should see our sibling. Thor and I would be rather angry should something happen to them."

"Yes, quite right, Loki," Thor agreed, twirling his hammer in his hand. "They are under our protection, after all." He flashed them an ominous glare, suppressing a smirk as the three employees recoiled in fear. "Good afternoon to you all!"

With that, the brothers sauntered out of the shop, reveling in the stunned silence they left in their wake.

"I believe that went quite well," Thor boasted as they began the short walk back to the tower.

"I still would have preferred you'd have allowed me to make an example of one of them," Loki grumbled, balling his fists. "I'm certain they'd never bother our dear friend again if I'd have fastened that 'Jason' character to the wall by his poorly-fitted shirt with my daggers-"

"Yes, yes - I'm certain you'd have instilled the fear of Odin in them all," Thor sighed exasperatedly. "I feel that this non-violent approach was a much better option."

"You lack vision, dear brother..." Loki tutted with a shake of his head.

That evening, Loki was more than a bit surprised when there was yet another pounding on his bedroom door. With a groan of frustration, he stood from his desk chair and stalked over to the door.

“Thor - for the last time, stop clobbering my… oh.”

He swung the door open to reveal not his older brother, but you, standing there with a wild look in your eyes. Before he could say another word, you’d shoved your finger into his chest accusingly.

“What did you do?!” you demanded.

“What did I do?!”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Loki!” You advanced into his room, forcing him backward with a startling amount of strength for a Midgardian. Not that he was trying to fight you, of course. “Everyone at work was suddenly cowering in fear of me, and I know there’s only one reason that would happen! So tell me - what did you do?!”

“Darling, you’re asking the wrong person, honestly - it wasn’t-”

“What’s all this commotion about?”

You whirled around at the sound of Thor’s voice in the doorway, stabbing your finger into his pectoral muscle instead.

“You were in on this! Don’t you deny it! Tell me the truth, both of you!” Your chest heaved with the exertion of your frustration and bellowing. Thor’s blue eyes flitted up to meet Loki’s, an anxious look passing between the two of them. With a defeated sigh, Thor decided to tell you the truth.

“We… may have followed you to your workplace the other day,” he explained sheepishly.

“You what?!”

“We simply couldn’t take it any longer! Obviously something was very wrong!” Thor reasoned desperately. “It all began when you started working at your friend’s shop, so we decided to get to the bottom of it.”

“The mortals you work with in that establishment are witless, bottom-dwelling slugs,” Loki added furiously.

“Why did you not tell us about them in the first place??” Thor demanded.

“Because I knew this would be the result!” You threw your hands up exasperatedly, spinning on your heel and pacing further into the room. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to have your brothers go behind your back and threaten your coworkers??”

“We didn’t threaten them, per se…”

“Not directly, at least…”

“That’s not the point!” You spun back around to face them. “I don’t know what things are like on Asgard, but here on Earth, when someone goes and tells bullies off behind your back, it makes you look weak!”

“Have they said this to you?!” Thor raged. “I shall return there immediately and-”

“No! Ugh,” - you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, - “they won’t say anything, but that’s exactly what they’re thinking!”

“Perhaps we should pay them another visit,” Loki muttered angrily, glancing at Thor.

“No! No more ‘visits’! Just… oh, forget it!”

You suddenly stormed out of the room, brushing briskly past Thor in the process. The door slammed shut behind you without another word, shrouding the brothers in silence.

“Perhaps… perhaps we should have spoken to them first,” Thor pondered sheepishly.

“Yes, I suppose that would have been wise.” Even Loki seemed a bit put out by your scolding.

You headed straight back to your own apartment, slamming and locking the door behind you. A frustrated yell burst from your chest. Why didn’t they understand?? At least before, your coworkers made fun of you to your face - now, they were sure to be talking about you behind your back instead, and that was so much worse.

Maybe you’d been a bit hard on them. After all, they weren’t exactly experts on the social constructs of Midgardian culture. But gods, if it wasn’t so frustrating! And you still had no idea when you’d be relieved of your duties at the shop - it could be months before you could leave this all behind.

As if on cue, your phone suddenly began ringing in your pocket. You fought the instinct to answer with a sharp tone, especially when you noticed it was Mandy calling.

"I've got fantastic news! I've got a new employee starting in two weeks!"

A wave of relief rushed through you at her revelation. "That's... amazing, Mandy! Congratulations!"

"Thanks!! And thank you for saving my boutique! I seriously owe you BIG time."

"Oh, it's no problem at all, really!" you fibbed with a falsely upbeat tone. "So... two more weeks?"

"If you can swing two more weeks, I would SO appreciate it!"

You cringed at the thought of two more weeks at this temporary job. Six more shifts of misery. But at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel now. And, you supposed, your coworkers weren't going to bother you so much anymore now that Thor and Loki had threatened to smite them, or whatever they'd said to make them cower in fear. Not that you weren't still mad at them about it.

Exhausted from the tumultuous emotions you'd experienced throughout the day, you decided to head to bed early that evening. Maybe tomorrow you'd feel more up to talking to your honorary brothers again.

* * *

You didn't hear from Thor and Loki for a few days.

The bitter part of you was satisfied that you'd managed to convey your anger enough to chase them away. But a larger part of you was really missing your brothers. Deep down, you knew they meant well when they went to the shop and stood up for you. And after more than a month of feeling too emotionally exhausted to spend quality time with them, it was hard not to have them checking up on you.

Things at the boutique had marginally improved since Thor and Loki paid them a visit. You wouldn't say your coworkers were nice to you now, but at least you could wander the store as you pleased to complete your inventory tasks and get a bit of cleaning done toward the end of the evening. Still, you were counting down the days until you could say goodbye to this place.

The shop was quiet this evening. You'd completed the review of the inventory halfway through your shift, even finding some time to balance the finance records. Now, you were simply finding little tasks to complete around the main area of the shop just because you knew it irked your coworkers, and they couldn't say a word.

Samantha and Jay were whispering to one another behind the register, you noticed suddenly. Initially, you were worried they might be talking about you, but then you saw Jay nod in the direction of a clothing rack by the door. You knew immediately who they were muttering about the moment your gaze landed on him.

A man had entered the boutique, browsing through the clothing selection rather animatedly. More intriguing, though, was the absolutely absurd outfit the man was sporting. He had on a vividly-colored suit that was about three sizes too large for him, the jacket and pants adorned with completely conflicting, flamboyant patterns. His shoes were old, battered sneakers that appeared to have been in his possession for years. In contrast to his hideous outfit, his hair was styled neatly in short, brown curls. He boasted a thick but neatly trimmed beard.

"He must be lost - go ask him if he needs directions somewhere," Samantha hissed at Jay.

"Me?! You know I can't be that subtle, Sam," Jay argued in a hushed whisper. "You go talk to him!"

"I beg your pardon!"

The man suddenly called politely across the boutique to the three of you, smiling kindly. You offered him a friendly smile in return, knowing all too well the dirty looks he'd inevitably be receiving from Sam and Jay simultaneously. If he noticed, it didn't seem to bother him.

"Would one of you care to assist me in selecting attire for a wedding I shall be attending? I'm afraid I'm not well versed in this sort of thing."

"No kidding..." Sam whispered under her breath.

"Mandy wouldn't want you to kick him out," you hissed accusingly. "You both know as well as I do. He's a paying customer."

"Why don't you help him, then?" Jay retorted.

"Me? Didn't you two spend the last month telling me how useless my fashion sense is?"

A sudden crash made the three of you jolt in surprise. You glanced up to find one of the mannequins had toppled over, undoubtedly knocked down by the vibrantly-clothed man. He began spouting profuse apologies, hurriedly moving to scoop up the mannequin but knocking the head off in the process. Samantha and Jay looked absolutely appalled, but you had to fight not to start laughing aloud.

“I-I do apologize,” the man insisted, stumbling over to the mannequin head and swiftly replacing it atop the plastic body. “I’m a bit clumsy, I suppose.”

“A bit, yes,” Jay concurred bitterly. The man took no notice of his tone, approaching the counter with an amicable smile on his face.

“As I was saying before I so rudely made a mess of your shop…” he chuckled, “I would truly appreciate any insight you could provide me on wedding attire.”

He glanced at you for a moment, catching your eye with his fierce aquamarine ones. There was a familiar sparkle of mischief behind them that made you tilt your head with curiosity. In response, he shot you a quick wink, confirming your suspicions.

"You, there!" the 'man' - Loki, you now knew - declared suddenly, turning his gaze to Jay. "You'll assist me, won't you?"

"I-I... er..."

"Of course he will!" Sam exclaimed suddenly, nudging Jay forward a bit. She was likely just pleased that she wouldn't have to be the one assisting this style mishap. Jay shot her a glare, reluctantly stepping forward and following Loki across the store to one of the suit racks. He accidentally-on-purpose stumbled into another mannequin on the way, nearly sending it falling over onto Jay as he walked past but catching it at the last possible second.

You had to excuse yourself to the restroom to avoid bursting into laughter on the spot.

Loki spent the better part of an hour asking ridiculous questions, bumping into things, and essentially making every effort to make your coworkers' lives difficult. Closing time came and went, and yet Loki still wouldn't leave, always coming up with 'just one last question' to prolong his visit.

"Sir - how about I assist you with any last questions you might have while I close up shop?" you interjected finally, trying not to giggle at the desperation written across Sam and Jay's faces.

"Yes - that would be wonderful!" he concurred, though you noticed the spark of disappointment in his eye that you had cut his fun short.

Sam and Jay didn't need to be told twice - they both swiftly scurried out of the shop with a chaste goodbye, leaving you alone with the customer who'd made their lives a living nightmare for the last hour. You busied yourself with counting the register contents, waiting until both of their cars disappeared from view outside to address Loki.

"You can drop the illusion now," you urged with a sly grin, glancing up from the register drawer. With a green shimmer of light, the poorly dressed customer morphed into your friend and brother Loki.

"Why did you have to go and ruin my fun?" he whined teasingly. "I could have kept them here an extra hour quite easily."

"Yes, but I also want to go home sometime tonight." You chuckled, stepping out from behind the counter to carry the register to the safe in the back room. "Are you... headed back to the tower?"

"I'll be here waiting to walk back with you," he nodded in confirmation, gesticulating toward the door. With a smile, you vanished into the back to finish locking up before heading out with Loki.

A charged silence fell between the two of you as you began the short walk home to the tower. You weren't angry anymore. How could you be, after he'd spent so much of his evening just trying to make you laugh? But you weren't certain how to open conversation with Loki without first mentioning the huge argument you'd had a few days ago.

"Thor and I are... sorry for what we did," Loki spoke up suddenly. You turned your head to look up at the sheepish-looking god. "Our intentions were pure, I assure you."

"I know, Loki. I'm sorry I got so upset," you responded gently. "I've been so stressed and upset the last few weeks, I guess it all just came out on you two that night. I do appreciate you looking out for me, I swear."

"Yes, well - you'll have to continue to educate us on the politics of Midgardian relationships." He grinned. "Clearly Thor requires quite a few lessons in such matters."

"Oh, Thor does? Not you, Mr. God of Mischief?"

"I should think I'm ages ahead of Thor in my understanding of Midgardian culture!"

"Pshh, yeah - about as far ahead as your fashion choices were tonight," you teased.

"I thought I looked rather dashing in that ensemble."

"Only because you probably blinded yourself when you looked in the mirror."

Loki shook his head with a laugh, offering you his arm as you reached the crosswalk. You slipped your hand around his elbow, heart swelling now that you had your brother back in your life.

The pair of you laughed about the events of the evening for the remainder of the walk home. All frustrations from the last few weeks were forgotten as you reminisced about the look on Jay's face when Loki had asked him if he had any suits in the color orange. It was the most relaxed you'd felt in over a month.

"Is Thor going to stop by tonight?" you asked as the two of you approached the door to your apartment.

"I suspect he will, yes."

You turned your key inside the lock, finding it to be already open. Warily, you glanced back at Loki, who merely shrugged with a mischievous spark in his eye. Unsure what you were going to find on the other side of your door, you gradually swung it open and stepped into your living room.

"Surprise!"

There in the doorway from your living room to the kitchen stood Thor with an exuberant smile painted across his face. In his hand, he held a baking tray filled with freshly baked cupcakes. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide the amused grin as you observed his lopsided frosting work.

"Loki and I wanted to apologize for the other day," Thor explained. "So - I researched a baking recipe! I think they turned out alright."

"Yehes, Thor - they look delicious," you confirmed, unable to prevent a small giggle from slipping out. You crossed the room and politely took one of the misshapen cupcakes from the baking sheet, wrapping an arm around Thor in a one-armed hug. "Thank you both for tonight! I really missed you."

"We, too, have missed you," Thor responded, his voice thick with emotion. "I hope we haven't made things worse for you at the shop."

"No - everyone still seems to be afraid of me, which is fine by me! And the good news is - I'm leaving my job at the shop next week! Mandy found a replacement finally."

"That's wonderful news!" Thor declared, placing the baking tray on a side table in your living room so he could scoop you into a bear hug.

"Mmpf - yes, it is - don't squish me!" you pleaded, gasping dramatically as he released you. "So... what kind of cupcakes are these, exactly?"

"They are what you Midgardians refer to as 'confetti' cupcakes!"

You gazed warily at the rather dark brown-appearing cupcake in your hand. "Oh! Uh... I see you made them extra toasty?"

"Brother - I told you not to leave them in the oven to 'keep them warm,'" Loki hissed. You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand once again.

"D-did you also leave the oven on when you did that?"

"Well of course - how are they to stay warm if the oven is not heated?"

"That explains the frosting," you giggled, watching as the blob of blue frosting began to slide off the top of the cupcake as it melted.

"At least try them before you poke fun at my baking skills!" Thor retorted, fighting back a grin. Hesitantly, you took a small bite. The outer layer was actually crunchy in texture, it was so toasted.

"Mm... you know," - you swallowed the bite so you could speak - "Once you get past the burnt taste, it's actually not so bad!"

"Yes, yes, alright... I overbaked them. It was my first attempt! Spare me some criticism!"

"You literally needed to simply follow the recipe," Loki interjected. Thor scowled at his brother, although you could tell by his eyes that he wasn't truly angry. He was simply happy to see you acting like yourself again at last.

"I don't think you can make fun of them until you try them," you chastised, grabbing another cupcake off the tray and advancing upon Loki. He grasped your wrist as you attempted to shove the cupcake into his mouth, laughing incredulously at your tenacity.

"No! No - I think not," he argued, holding your wrist tightly to prevent you from advancing the cupcake any closer to his face.

"Hey - if I had to try Thor's burnt cupcakes, so do y-eep!"

You squeaked in surprise as Thor's strong arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, causing you to drop the cupcake on the floor.

"I've heard quite enough about my terrible baking skills from you this evening," he growled playfully, tightening his grip as you began twisting to free yourself. "I think I'll give you something else to laugh about."

"No- THOR, NOHO!" You shrieked as his fingers found purchase on your lowest ribs, vibrating into the crevices.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have messed with your older brother then, hmm? You know it only ends poorly for you," he teased.

"Peheherhaps you shohould learn hohow to BAKE behetter!"

"Oh-ho, now you're simply asking for it!" Thor dropped his hands to knead at your sides, wriggling his thumbs into the sides of your belly. With a screech, you let your knees buckle underneath you in an effort to make it more difficult for him to hold you upright.

"L-AHAH-LOHOKI, HEHELP!" you pleaded, sinking to the floor as Thor lowered you down carefully.

"Help? After you nearly smashed a cupcake into my face?" he asked incredulously, smirking at your predicament. "You're fortunate that I haven't decided to assist my brother in tormenting you."

"Why not, brother? Clearly they deserve it!" Thor countered, shifting his grip to prevent you from slipping out of it.

"N-noho! Dohon't you dahare!"

"You're quite right, Thor," Loki concurred, ignoring your pleas. Kneeling in front of you, Loki snatched up one of your ankles and scribbled at the sole of your foot.

"LOHOKI! You're thehe WORST!!" you cried, kicking out at him with your free foot. He casually grabbed hold of your other ankle, pressing both down on the floor and pinning them there with his shin before continuing to flutter his fingertips along the bottoms of both feet. Thor had taken to clawing at the center of your belly with one of his large hands, his laugh rumbling in his chest as you began to squirm harder in his grasp.

"Have you learnt not to trifle with us yet?" Loki demanded, reaching up to tickle the delicate skin behind your knee. You nodded frantically, unable to speak coherently through the desperate laughter streaming from your lips. The brothers slowly eased up in their torment before ceasing altogether, chuckling fondly at your disheveled state.

"Do you feel better yet, my friend?" Thor asked teasingly.

"B-behetter??"

"Hmm, perhaps we've not made you laugh long enough..."

"N-NOHO, I feel behetter, yes!" you insisted as his fingertips worked into your ribcage for a moment. And, truthfully, you did feel better. You'd missed this juvenile playfulness with your honorary brothers. It had been far too long since the three of you had the opportunity to relax and simply enjoy each other's company.

Thor helped you to your feet, and you smoothed out your rumpled shirt. He scooped up the tray with the remaining cupcakes, holding them out toward you and Loki.

"Care for another before I put these away?" he asked facetiously.

"I... I'm full now, actually - big dinner tonight - but thanks!" you insisted, grinning.

"Absolutely not," Loki stated flatly. Chuckling, Thor carried the tray into the kitchen to discard the burnt baked goods. He returned moments later, stretching sleepily.

"We should be on our way, Loki," he urged, motioning toward the door. "Our friend likely needs to get some rest before working tomorrow morning."

"Actually-" you interjected as the two of them began to move toward the exit to your apartment, "I'm... working a little later for Dr. Banner tomorrow, if you want to stick around for a little while. We never did get to play the rest of my old board games."

"I'm happy to stay for a while, if you're certain," Thor agreed with a warm smile. "Loki? What do you say?"

"I... suppose I can humor you both for a bit longer," he mumbled. Even he couldn't fully suppress the grin that threatened to overtake his features.

"Great! I'll make popcorn, then?"

"Oh-ho, now you're hungry??" Thor chided.

"Hungry for edible food, yeah!" you retorted, scurrying to the kitchen before Thor could make a swipe for you.

"Don't think you can throw out such thinly veiled insults and get away with it!" he called after you, loud footsteps pursuing you to the kitchen.

Yes, there were a lot of laughs, jests, and teases that evening. You'd had your brothers for such a short time relative to your lifespan. But now, more than ever, you realized you couldn't live without this dysfunctional family of yours.

[ronearoundblindly]

Nsfw

Succubus reader and steve (they are dating) she cant sleep so she visits her boyfreinds dream and have some fondue

Ok, first off, let me just say how happy it makes me that we are just straight up calling it fondue now. That's 100% what the world needs, and I personally swear that phrase became the only way Steve would mention/insinuate sex in public from that moment in 1943 and beyond.

Pure. Excellence. Thank you.

...and now for Fantasy Friday Ask (3)...I did take some liberties with the scenario leading up to the smut, and this, uh, this got dirty. No, no. I mean this. It gets filthy.

Warnings for explicit sexual content and language. MINORS DNI. So little editing that it didn't actually happen. While it's not necessary, you can read parts one and two before this one!

After the Team finds out what you are, Sam Wilson teases Steve for 'flirting with danger,' and the nickname sticks.

Of course, at every single social outing, since you and Steve are always side-by-side, Tony comes up to say hello with “Danger, Steve Rogers,” and a little nod at both of you before he chortles his obnoxious self over to the bar or cooler or…whatever he does. You don’t really care. He thinks he’s hilarious. You want to whack him across the face with your tail, but he would likely enjoy that. Weirdo.

Steve goes on missions pretty frequently, but the distance isn’t much of a problem when you can be in his dreams. Essentially, he never has to worry about coming home too exhausted to hang out with you because he can actually get rest while relaxing (or being very active) with you.

Then Steve goes on one of his longer missions and you end up having insomnia at the exact same time. Days. Fucking days. No fucking for DAYS. And you are not handling it well.

The way your power works is you need to be in a dream state, too, not fully unconscious but devoid of any other foci. You’re too antsy and twitchy and cranky to relax your way into his dreams, and if it takes hours of trying, you’ve missed his time zone window of opportunity. If you weren’t having such trouble then you could stay ready all day. You could be patient. You are patient.

But not right fucking now because for the love of all that is unholy, you are hungry and angry and lonely and tired.

Here’s the fun part about being a demonic creature: alcohol doesn’t effect you. It’s a nice thing you and Steve have in common actually, but there’s a catch.

You can get drunk. You can get absolutely shitfaced on Holy Water. Like alcohol, it burns a bit on the way down but the effect is extremely like an Asgardian liquor. Tastes just as bad, but if it’s the only thing that’ll knock you out, sign you up.

How you…uh…acquire the water is not really important, but when you get it back home and get ready to pass out, your whole body is humming with horniness. You’re gonna have to have a talk with Steve about maybe leaving an emergency food supply or…ah who are you kidding?! You’d chug that down on day one without him. Never mind.

Three flasks later and belting ‘Mr. Brightside’ at the top of your lungs, you collapse onto the floor, less than a foot from the bed. Whoops. Too bad. Momma’s gunning for a special toddy, kids. Get out of her way!

The drunken stupor doesn't follow you in dreams, but your excitement does. It's a bit like knocking at someone's door and waiting for them to answer, except most people can't refuse you entry and opening the door is just them joining the party.

You come as yourself, tail swishing to and fro frantically with your anticipation. Usually, you and Steve walk together along a beach, something a little more exotic than Coney Island, but the possibilities are endless. You don't tend to exert much influence over the setting of Steve's dreams because your boyfriend considers your comfort as much as his. You just...add props sometimes.

Lots of adjustments are required today. There's no beach, only a dark room. You can't think of any fancy stuff to populate the rest of his dream space, so Steve stands on a small bit of floor, smiling.

"Where've you been? You really don't like answering that phone I got you, huh?"

No words. Launching forward into his arms, you crawl up Steve, latching your lips onto his. He may recognize this ferocity, but something new is in store for Steve Rogers: danger.

His hand absently lifts to pet your horns, a normal, gentle, soothing gesture that you are well past the mood for.

Steve's arm is ripped back by another, and he turns, confused, to see you.

A second you. She grips tight over this strong forearm and holds it out, far away as it will stretch.

"Wha--"

A third you takes the use of his other arm with a wicked smirk.

There he is, stretched out and held still for your pleasure, and the glide of your finger burns through his clothing until it all falls to the floor in ashes.

"Stevie," you whine, "I'm soooo hungry."

He shuts his eyes while a shiver visibly races up his spine. His abs jump at your lowering touch. The other yous praise him relentlessly. He's got a bit of a good boy kink; Steve likes to be told what he's doing right, what you like about him, how he makes you happy.

All that and more falls from your lips even as you take him into your mouth.

"So thick," they say. "So heavy on our tongue."

Steve isn't struggling so much as jerking violently in response to the touch of one hand on his thigh, one hand on his hip, another on his chest, and yet another in his hair.

"Uh god, I feel you in the back of my throat," he hears from his right.

"So full of you, Stevie" from his left.

He's been lost to his thoughts--or lack thereof--up until now, and he really, really can't form a sentence now. Steve just moans your name as low as his gut allows, pumping his pelvis forward with small cries.

You know what that means. Time to focus below the belt. One hand pinched tight at the base of his cock, one cradling his sack and pulsing a mirror rhythm to your bobbing head, another hand gripping his firm ass cheek, and another sliding between them to ghost over his puckered hole, he's screaming to come.

Your two hands and mouth release him, sitting back on your haunches with your hands on your knees, the perfect supplicant. You keep your mouth open wide, tongue out, gaze locked with Steve's (if you can call the mess of begging and blue eyes before you Steve anymore).

Your sister selves take over and layer their hands around his shaft to aim his final desperate thrusts. One nice thing about dreams for you is that men produce more cum in their fantasies, so a late-night feast covers your face and neck even after a generous amount coats your mouth.

Steve gasps for air as he watches you swallow, watches your doubles trace their own fingers through his spend and bring it to their mouths, and watches all three of you lick your lips and hum in satisfaction.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales shakily, suddenly falling to his knees in front of you.

The other two have vanished. You're still collecting trails of seed from yourself to eat.

His chest heaves to catch his breath, and Steve plants his fists on the ground beside your knees, tilting his head up.

"Well," he huffs, "I hope you feel better because I sure do."

Your fingers pop out of your mouth just in time to giggle at him.

"Better not get tired on me, Rogers. I'm a girl with a good appetite."

Yeah, so...

I don't really have an excuse.

Here's my Masterlist? Comments? Screeching noises? I'm all ears. Thank you for putting up with my shame. 🙈💩🥴

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Anklets and Necklaces

Inspired by this tweet.

@5-secondsofcolor I’m not sorry.

Female Reader insert. NSFW Content (18+). My smut writing is hella rusty. So I do apologize, whoops.

_______________

Calum plays at the anklet, spinning it around and around her joint as her legs are crossed and resting in his lap. The gold jewellry is hardly ever taken off since he gave it to her. In return, she gifted him a chain with a tiny pendant with her initial etched into the back of it. The front of it is an arrowhead. He wears it so often now, that when it’s off, he feels a little incomplete. It’s an easy gesture to carry her everywhere with him.

“Okay we gotta decide what to eat for lunch like now or I’m going to get hangry,” she states.

Calum glances up from his phone, to see her still scrolling on hers. “Oh no. Not hangry,” he teases. But he knows she means it. Her warnings have about a thirty minute window, just enough for a delivery if they get something simple. Or if they want something more complicated, they need to find a snack now while the main course is cooking. “What do you want? Thai? Mexican?”

“Would you hate me if I said I really just wanted nuggets from McDonalds?”

The pout on her lips makes him laugh, “No, I could never. Usual then?”

“Yes, please.”

Stretching across the length of her, Calum pushes his lips together, trying to ask for a kiss. She laughs in return and squeezes his cheeks. “Be lucky you’re cute,” she states before lifting up slightly to meet his lips. “And squishy.”

“Ain’t nothing on me squishy,” he huffs, straightening back up to put her order into the app.

She sets her phone down on her stomach, gazing up over the sharp line of his jaw that his plump cheeks sit atop. And while it’d be easy to return with a poke and a verbal jab about his cheeks, she just watches him. His fingers deftly work over the screen. The white tank sits as a stark contrast to the depth and glow of his skin. “I think all the right things on you are squishy.”

“Yeah, what are those?”

“Your cheeks. And as much as you and your trainer kick your ass, I know happy weight when I see it.”

Calum grins, a chuckle shaking through him as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch--the order completed on his end. He pinches at her thighs. “Take that back.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I will. I like it--just like I like my cookies. Hard on the edges gooey in the middle.”

Standing for just a moment to let her legs fall onto the couch, Calum kneels onto the cushion, hovering above her. Her eyes glitter just a little as she talks and the soft easy smile on her face lets him know that it’s all out of love--what’s she’s saying. The pads of his fingers run along the side of her thigh. “Be lucky I love you.”

“I am already lucky, so say what you gotta say. Roast me, my love. It’s not like we don’t do that anyways.”

And truth be told, Calum had no response. Not when he looks at her, because God all he sees is the person that’s been with him on his bad mental days. She’s been there when Calum was sure there was no lower low or higher high. And what do you say to that person that’s been there, seen all of you that there is to see? With a gentle and chaste kiss, Calum settles for silence.

“Cat got your tongue now, huh?”

This--this Calum can respond too. It’s all too easy. “I know what else my tongue can have.”

“I know something your tongue can have too.”

“Really now?” Calum asks, dragging his fingers over the top of her thigh and tracing the line of her lounge shorts. “Food will be here in fifteen minutes though. So that’s up to you.”

“Not nearly enough time to savor it. Besides,” she starts and takes a pause. Her lips pull into a side smile and Calum knows what that means. One brow quirks in anticipation and Calum watches her. The silence settles for a little too long.

“Besides what?” he prompts again.

“Besides, I need the mail to be delivered first.”

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll see later. I promise. It’s really not even supposed to be used for lingerie. But I’ve wanted these for a long time and I specifically have a set I’m trying to complete.”

There’s the black mesh set that she’s slowly been building out. The main piece came in weeks ago, at this point it might even be months ago that that came in. He was privy to it then and gave it the christening that it deserved. But there wasn’t any other lingerie set that needed expansion. Not at least to his recalling. “Which one is it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Oh please,” he whines, dropping his head into her neck. His lips softly and slowly seal kisses into her warm skin.

“No, Calum. I’ve been waiting on this package for weeks. It got held up in customs and I-” she sighs at his lips sucking at her skin. Not hard enough to cause a bruise, but just enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Calum pushes up, with a huff, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. “This is killing me, you know?”

“Well, you ain’t dead yet. So I think you can tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Begrudgingly--I want you to know that.”

She sits up, swinging her feet to the floor. “Your sacrifice will be duly noted. The mail will be here before you know it.” The couch releases her weight and Calum watches her pad into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” she calls.

“I’m good,” he returns, knowing that he will be counting down the seconds until the mail comes. She returns with a glass of water, sitting back down on the couch, but bringing her feet up underneath her as she motions to the TV. “You watching that?”

Calum answers with a shrug. He wasn’t anymore. He originally turned it on mostly for the weather and some news. He found himself bored and flipping through channels before settling on the sports channel while he took care of Duke in the morning. Noise to fill the space since his brain needed the distraction. He hadn’t slept all that great the last few nights, decent sleep. The closer and closer the band got to putting out music the more his nerves kicked in--sometimes they were sneaky. The nerves come up faster than Calum had anticipated. And right now, they won the first round. But Calum was working hard to combat them so he could get about his daily life.

“Go crazy,” he finally verbally responds. And she picks up the remote, changing channels too fast for Calum to even understand how you could process what was on before decking it was a no. She eventually settles for HGTV--not quite caring what show was on. 

The first knock that comes to the door is the food that Calum ordered for the two of them. He answers it, popping up in the hopes it’s the mail. When it’s not, he sighs just a little but places the bag down onto the coffee table. “Your nugs, my queen,” he teases.

“Thank you, my good sir,” she returns with a grin, opening before divvying out what is for who. “You wouldn’t have happened to shot up like a bat outta hell because you wanted that to be the mail?”

Calum feels the heat in his cheeks, but bumps her shoulder gently. “No, why would I ever want that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she scoffs in return, dunking a nugget into the sweet and sour sauce. They share a soft bout of laughter before turning their gaze back to the TV. Duke’s paws click as he ventures into the kitchen for a drink of water from his bowl. The lapping and splash of his tongue echoing just slightly as the screen goes dark between the show and the commercial break.

Calum lifts his gaze, taking in the soft angle of her jaw. She curls up around the carton of fries, eyes glued to the screen. Does she even have the slightest clue what she does to him? It’s not even the involved things like dressing up for him, or comforting him. It’s just her, when she’s munching on fries. Or when she sleepily walks behind Duke in the mornings. It’s when she hums as she cooks. It’s the dancing she does when she’s cleaning. It’s the pouts when she messes up on something and her brow furrows in as the determination settles onto her face.

It’s when she fucked up a birthday cake for him once--not greasing the sides of the pan enough and then adding a tad too much milk--called him crying about it and then in a minute flat resolved to make him brownies instead. Because she said she’d be damned if she didn’t make him something sweet to nibble on or pass along to the guys. And Calum’s not even that much of a sweets guy, which she knew, so she only settled on giving him half the batch she made. She, of course, saved the other half for her and her friends.

And it’s just the moments that she’s not even trying that makes Calum melt. Like when she paints her nails, she offers to do his first. Or when she lays down next to Duke, and in their shared silence, they seem to communicate everything with each other.

“I love you,” he states.

She turns, eyes widening for a second before grinning around her sip of iced tea. “I love you.” Her brows furrow just a little. “You okay? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you didn’t want McDonalds, I could’ve done something else. Literally anything else,” she continues on almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not the food,” he giggles. Calum reaches out to caress her cheek. “I’m okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“I just love you, that’s all. Wanted to share it with you.”

Her grin is soft as it lifts her lips. “Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of getting rid of you.”

Another silence envelopes them. Calum finishes his food and takes the empty containers to the trash. Another episode starts up from the speakers and just above it, he hears the chime of his phone. “Do you want me to screen it for you?”

“Yes please!” If it’s one of the guys, they won’t mind her answering. If it’s someone important, he doesn’t want to miss the call.

“Calum’s phone,” she answers but he can already hear her feet shuffling to him in the kitchen. “Okay, Ash. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes closer and Calum shakes his hands just a little to get rid of the excess water before drying them. “No, I can’t say what it is without taking a look. Did you use the soil I recommended last time?” Another pause comes from her and when Calum turns, he finds her leaning up the kitchen counter, phone halfway pulled down but not fully away from her ear. “Yeah, I definitely think you should consider changing soils. But I can take a better look tomorrow for you. I’m going to pass along the phone now.”

She hands the phone over. “He said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Calum says in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then placing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Ash?”

Calum’s not even sure how long the conversation goes on. At first, it is important information that Ashton’s trying to confirm--a date and time for a meeting that they had later in the week. He says he wrote it down where he writes down all their meetings but it’s not there. And Ashton’s trying to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. So Calum shuffles to his office and verifies in his calendar the time for the meeting.

But then the conversation diverges--they start talking about everything and anything. So much so, they’re laughing. Calum doesn’t even hear the knock at the front door. But he does notice her scurrying off into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Duke comes trailing after her but notices the closer door and then keeps down the hall to the office. Calum reclines back in his seat trying to get another angle at the door. But it’s closed fully.

“You okay, gramps?” Calum asks Duke.

“Oh fuck off, mate!” Ashton laughs.

“Not you, you fucking egg. Duke--I was talking to Duke.”

“Oh!” Ashton giggles. “Sorry, I thought you was trying to talk shit.”

“I don’t have to try and do that to you.”

“Oi, don’t start something bro.” The two of them laugh and Calum bends down to scratch behind Duke’s ears. “Alright, thanks for confirming that meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow in the studio?”

“Yeah--bright and early. Talk to you later.” The call ends and when Calum spins around in his desk chair, his jaw drops as she steps out from the bedroom. It’s not exactly something new--as in something that she’s never worn before. But it doesn’t mean he ever gets tired of seeing her like this.

The white bustier pushes her breasts up and almost over the cups. And he travels the look down, taking in the baby blue skirt, fishnet knee highs. And he goes back up, taking in a black strap wrapping around her thighs. She notes the lustful gaze and steps right on the line of the threshold to the door.

“So,” Calum starts, trailing his gaze down and then back up to her face. “Not the black lingerie I was anticipating.”

“No, I’m waiting for the heels I want for that lingerie to go on sale. Besides, you didn’t like the collar I liked so I’m still searching.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It’s just too similar to one we already bought.”

“You’re right, but still.”

Calum cracks a smile at the reluctant confession. “But enough about that. This--this is a cute outfit.”

She nods, smoothing out the pleated mini skirt. “It’s less about the outfit and more about these,” she says, tapping at the thin black band.

“And those are?” Calum asks. It’s one step closer into the room and Calum think he can make out a heart shaped metal loop in the middle of it. She takes a second step closer and Calum can see clearly it’s some sort of thigh garter--leather or something related as the material. “Oh,” he breathes.

She continues slowly to approach Calum and when she’s just in arms reach, she lifts the skirt up. It goes up inch by inch and Calum’s entranced. Watching more of her thighs revealed to him. And soon it’s black panties--mesh and if Calum remembers correctly crotchless. But wrapped around her waist is another band of leather. Two pieces hook to another metal hoop right on her hip bones and then one trip connects the top piece to the bottom.

“A harness garter belt--what do you think?” she asks in a whisper.

Calum exhales, desire stirring in the pit of his stomach. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her thighs and pulling her into him. He kisses in the spaces between the leather, gingerly, lips hardly touching her skin. “I think you look beautiful,” he hums, dropping his head on his neck to look up at her.

Her eyes are still closed and Calum softly runs the tips of his fingers up her thigh, tracing the lines of the harness. With a deep exhale, she finally blinks back to reality. “Not too silly?”

His brows meet in the middle of his face. Why would she think it’s too silly? There’s nothing silly about her standing in front of him, clearly excited about her own purchase. “Angel--I’ll be damned if I ever think this is silly.”

Swinging her leg over and settling onto his lap, she grins. “Thank you, love.”

Calum holds onto her hips, rubbing his palms down to her ass. “So you said this technically isn’t lingerie?”

“No--I don’t think so. But I think they could be--a small accessory to something I already have.”

They share a kiss, much too quick for Calum’s liking so he pulls her back in for more. And her arms wind around his neck as he continues to palm her ass. Here, he doesn’t really care what it is technically or not. She looks absolutely amazing. “I like it. In fact,” Calum starts, moving to grip her thighs before housing them both up and then plopping her down on the desk. “I really like them.”

Calum stands between her legs, nose brushing and bumping against hers. Here, she can feel her core aching as Calum’s fingers trail closer and closer to her heat. It’s feather light--his touch, but it makes her feel electric all the same. “Cal,” she hums.

“Yes baby?”

There’s nothing that comes out of her mouth but a small huff, a rushed and harsh exhale at the feeling of his fingers dancing across her skin. He grins pulling back just a little to see the way her face goes slack, almost as if she’s at peace with him between her legs.

“Was there something you wanted to say, darlin’?” Calum tries again, taking just a half step back away from her.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles. “I want to know,” she starts, exhaling softly to counter the thud of her heart in her chest, “if you’d so kindly want to make love to me?”

Calum can’t help his own small tuft of laughter. “Darlin’, I’d do so happily.” They don’t always wind up in bed like this--but it’s nice, to be comfortable even to be this forward with this and this open.

Calum takes her hand as she hops down from the desk. “Give me a twirl,” he asks. She obliges, turning in a circle for Calum, punctuating the back view by lifting her skirt up. “Silly girl,” Calum laughs, giving a firm but playful tap to her ass.

Facing Calum again, she wraps her arms around his torso. “But you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

They share another kiss and she slowly walks backwards out of the room. They get lost in each other--Calum in the way she fits against him and her in the way Calum holds her, palms spanning across her back and tight enough that she wonders if he thinks she’s going to disappear but gently enough at the same time that she’d love nothing more than staying here forever in his hold.

Calum finds the zipper to the top and slowly drags it down. The material exhales, slowly falling away from her body and when it falls to the floor, he kisses her neck, down to the swell of her breast. Her moans are soft, just above a hum that makes just enough noise for him to hear. And it goes right to his gut.

Here there's very little need for words. When Calum gives, she takes happily. But when she tugs at his hair, Calum knows to step back, lets her give something to him. Her kisses are soft against his skin, but make him feel like it’s being set on fire. One that he’d happily stay in, let the blaze consume every inch of him, if it meant that she was always the one to take him.

His shirt goes to join hers. Her mouth teases his nipples as she descends further down on him. Calum thinks he sighs, all he can do is just shut his eyes and let go into the feeling of her teasing the cut of his hips beneath the sweatpants. She’s always like this, teasing him. At first, it used to annoy him. But now he loves it, loves just how close she’s willing to push him to the edge, push his buttons but always delivering at the end of it.

Her meticulous work, to watch him jump at every scratch of her nails and nip of her teeth, is enjoyable. But Calum blinks open his eyes to cup her jaw, which stops her. When her gaze lifts, Calum motions for her to stand. “Yes?” she grins standing to her full height.

Calum presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Well how dare I keep a man like you waiting?” With a slow kiss, tongues just barely dancing, Calum walks the two of them to the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of it and she buckles just a little. Calum catches her from falling. “Turn around,” he whispers into her ear, “please.”

The instruction is obeyed and she spins to face the bed. Calum finds the zipper to the powder blue skirt and almost doesn’t want to take it off her. In the end, he does-- Calum lets the skirt fall onto a pool at their feet. Without even prompting she falls to her hands, ass grinding against his hips. He traces her spine with the pads of his fingers, following all the way down, over the curve of her ass and down to the opening in the panties. His fingers gather a bit of her arousal.

“Oh,” he groans. “So wet for me,” he hums with approval.

“Always for you,” she sighs. Calum teases her clit--a featherlight touch as he dances over her core. She lets herself fall a little bit more into the mattress--another moan leaving her lips when Calum takes one finger down from her clit to teasing her entrance.

Calum pulls away, bring his wet fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. “Taste just like heaven,” he hums. He gingerly guides her back to standing and uses her hips to get her to face him again.

More kisses are shared before they fall onto the mattress. Calum takes hold of one of the straps around her thigh and tugs her down, closer to him and she laughs. It gets caught off and morphed into a moan as Calum’s tongue licks a wide stripe up her. He’s careful of the mesh material of her panties, but knows that carefulness won’t last long. Not when her arousal coats his tongue. Not when her nails scratch over the muscles of his shoulders or tangle into the curls on his head.

She melts under the work of his mouth. The mattress merely becoming the vessel to hold the mess she’s bound to make and become. The room echoes the moans and slurps. Fingers gripping at the sheet, she chants Calum’s name. His tongue working magic over her core and just when she thinks she couldn’t possibly handle anything more, she notices the stretch at the addition of his fingers.

“Fuck,” she whines, lifiting one leg and he slips in even deeper, curling his fingers and hitting just the right spot.

Calum hungers for her pleasure--the high-pitched whine and groan as she releases. Some days it’s just the sound he needs to ground him. She gives short and breathless huffs, and quivers underneath him. “Gonna be a good girl?” Calum asks, fingers still pumping at her.

“Yes, oh yes, I will.”

“Gonna cum for me?”

“I want to, yes I’ll come for you. Make me your good girl.” Her voice sounds far away, as if she’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. Not quite babbling, but definitely talking so fast words bump into each other and slur together.

Calum grins, sucking at her clit again and she groans, head throwing back against the pillows. Her toes are curling--her whole body growing warmer with the passing second. The heat coils in her lower gut and she’s pleading. Though, she’s not sure who she is really meaning to plead to, but she wants to cum so badly.

Then it finally happens, one moment she’s sure she’s nearly in tears and the next, the coil snaps. She squeezes, hips raising off the bed and Calum continues to ride out her orgasm, gently pressing her back down into the bed. She hisses and starts to push at his shoulders, the signal that it’s too much. So Calum places one last kiss to her clit before pulling away from her glistening core.

Beneath him, eyes fluttering close, she looks angelic. Calum holds himself up above her and just watches the way she tries to collect her breath. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the silence.

“No kidding?” she teases, winding her arms around his neck. The necklace dangles just a little in her face and she takes one hand to trace the chain. Hooking her fingers into it, she tugs Calum down to her. The taste of her arousal on Calum’s tongue makes her head spin. Calum caresses her side and stomach as the kiss deepens. Here is all they need--the soft and deep kisses, the moans that they swallow from each other.

Her hands leave from around his neck and begin to push down his sweatpants and underwear. And he lets her, even pulls back to kneel on his knees as she sits up. Their kiss hardly breaks and she’s quick to tug the cotton material down, hands wrapping around his length.

He groans at the squeeze--nothing too hard just enough pressure to make his whole body ignite. Her hand pumps him, once, then twice slowly and teasing him. “Baby,” he sighs, relishing the feeling of her hands working over him. The stay like that only for a minute or two before Calum pauses her to step down and full disrobe.

When he climbs back onto the bed, he crawls over her. “Welcome back, handsome,” she greets.

“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” he returns, grinning.

She runs her fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest, out of habit, out of something to ground her for a moment. There’s no way he’s real and it shouldn’t ever shock her like this. But sometimes it sneaks up on her and the realization of how madly in love she is with his man hits her all over again.

“What are you thinking about?” Calum asks.

“How much I love you,” she answers softly.

“I love you too,” he returns, bending down to kiss her. It’s soft and sweet--the kiss. For a moment, they just inhale the breaths of the other. It’s a tender moment, one that neither one wants to interrupt, so they let it linger, smiling at each other. She stretches up to kiss him, one hand trailing between their bodies and Calum catches the hint all too quickly when she traces along his length.

“I haven’t forgotten, love,” he exhales in a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I could never forget.” Once lined up, Calum’s slow to sink into her. One, he wants to drag this out, enjoy every inch of him that she grips of him. And two, because he wants to make sure that even in the lull that she’s ready to take him.

Her head falls back, hair pushing into the pillow and neck exposing itself to him. A tempting sight but Calum loses himself in the feeling of her wetness. He’s slow, pulling out just a bit before sinking further back into her. Her sighs and words of encouragement are soft from beneath him but they fuel him.

The pace quickens and both of them groan at the ecstasy. Out of reflex, she lifts one leg to readjust her hip flexor and Calum brings it up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He kisses over the joint and the anklet, savoring just how much of her he can feel like this.

The chain dangles in her face, brushing in the valley of her breast and she revels in the feeling of Calum reaching the full depths of her body. She digs her nails into his flesh, more curses falling from her lip. But some of them get lost in the groans that win out. “God,” she huffs. “You’re everywhere.” And though it’s a bit of strain to get the words out because Calum’s pace is relentless as he snaps his hips into hers, she pushes the words out.

“You always take me so well,” he praises, watching the way her face contorts. “Oh, so soon, love? You’re going to cum again for me so fucking soon, like a good girl.”

Her whine slips out first but she nods, feeling the coil tightening yet again in her lower abdomen. Her body is hot, and she can already feel the prickle of sweat on her forehead. “Please, baby, please,” she begs.

“As you wish,” he hums, his own orgasm approaching faster than he anticipated. His body humming as the warmth spreads. The bed rocks just a little, hitting the wall and the sounds echo around them as they sigh and moan to each other. But the only thing that really matters to them, is each other.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, voice straining as she orgasms. No noise comes from her, but her mouth opens like if she had the breath she’d definitely be screaming his name. This time the quakes last longer, her whole body shaking. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hums, bumping his nose against her jaw, still riding through her orgasm.

“Shit, oh my god,” she shudders, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There’s a slight hiss when Calum moves again, and he kisses over her face, starting with her nose and then moving to her cheeks. Another quake takes her and Calum, not anticipating it, groans-- his orgasm now right on the edge. It won’t be much longer, but she nibbles at his earlobe. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Made me feel so fucking good. I want you to cum in me. So fucking deep,” she hums.

And while Calum’s trying to get his own rebuttal to the tip of his tongue, she squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he yelps just a little, his body erupting with his orgasm. His body shudders and he’s so blindsided by the feeling, his slips just a little, more of his weight settling onto her than usual.

She doesn’t say anything, just hums at the feeling of him succumbing to the pleasure. “Oh, that’s what I wanted,” she encourages. It leaves her throat like a purr and Calum shivers again at the sound.

They lay together, for a moment, her nails scratching lightly at the muscles in his back. Calum sinks into her, body going heavy. Her slight shift squeezes around him and he groans, sensitive. “Don’t--I can’t,” he laughs.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Even her own voice sounds heavy and slurred. She kisses his temple and Calum pushes up. He’s slow to pull out, enjoying the drips that follow of his own release spilling out of her. With one finger he gently scopes it back up and into her. The familiar twinge of desire pulls at his lower gut and it’s almost enough. She even shivers, but Calum watches the way her eyes stay closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Sleepy now,” she returns.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can nap.” His voice sounds farther away towards the end of the sentence and she assumes he went to the attached bathroom. The rush of water from the sink confirms it. Something wet and warm presses against her--no doubt Calum with a warm washcloth.

The clean up is swift as both of them share a shower and then under the sheets, they curl up around each other. Calum kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles in closely. “I want pancakes after our nap,” she mutters.

“I think we still have some blueberries.”

She pops up onto her elbow and grins a little. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

Calum laughs. “Maybe just a little bit.”

[fearlessinger]

So, a little less than a month year ago (this is all my fault, I take sole responsibility for this loooong delay), I got roped into reading The Trials Of Apollo by @flightfoot’s amazing meta. I loved it more than I could have ever anticipated, and I’ve been gushing about it non stop to her on discord. We had a lot of fun reviewing the series and taking it apart to overanalyze bit by bit, marveling at the way it keeps growing layers and dimensions the longer one looks at it. Finally, we took out a google doc. The following is result n.3 of our combined excited ramblings, and… well it sort of turned into a full on dissertation. Whoops.

“You must make your own choice.”

Reconstructing Apollo’s Journey within Riordan’s Narrative

Much too self aware to be egotistical

Not the kind of feelings that gods have

You have heard of imposter syndrome?

As if you could have immortality or meaning, but not both

The sun’s indifference

Art thou sure that is thy wish?

The washing away of curses  (read on ao3)

Tarquin had orchestrated all this with me in mind. He was forcing me to confront some of my greatest hits of dreadfulness. Even if I survived the challenges, my friends would see exactly what kind of dirtbag I was. The shame would weigh me down and make me ineffective – the same way Tarquin used to add rocks to a cage around his enemy’s head, until eventually, the burden was too much. The prisoner would collapse and drown in a shallow pool, and Tarquin could claim, I didn’t kill him. He just wasn’t strong enough. (TTT 270)

Much like the three emperors, and, in the end, like most of the people in Apollo’s life, Tarquin has hilariously misunderstood what kind of dirtbag Apollo truly is. 

There’s no way to coerce someone who already feels guilty about everything into feeling guiltier than he already does. Apollo’s head was already inside a cage of his own making, filled with rocks that he himself dutifully kept adding to it, day after day. Apollo had been sinking long before falling into Tarquin’s trap. None of Tarquin’s carefully selected stones could make him drown any faster than he already was. 

And yet there IS something special about these particular stones. They are not like all the others. Tarquin selected them perfectly, indeed, to end up achieving, ironically, the complete opposite of the intended effect. 

It’s here, in the place where he least expected it, the place where for so long he’d refused to look out of painful shame, that Apollo finds the lifeline he’s been desperately searching for. The reminder that there are some things, among the infinite number of things that he blames himself for, that are not like the others. There are, in fact, some things that Apollo actually, truly, directly, is responsible for.

Apollo did a lot of bad things in his long life. Some of them, many of them, perhaps even most of them, he did because he was backed into a corner. But some of them, he did because he was perfectly capable of being an asshole in his own right. They are, very clearly, not like all the others. He can’t keep treating them as if they were the same. The people he’s wronged deserve better than that. 

And maybe, just maybe, he does too. 

Maybe his mistakes do not have to define him.

“I will march right into that box and apologize,” he says. “There has to be another way. The prophecy can’t mean for us to kill Harpocrates. Let’s talk to him. Figure something out.” 

This is who Apollo is. He believes in people’s right to make their own choice.

‘Goodbye, Apollo,’ said the Sibyl’s voice, clearer now. ‘I forgive you. Not because you deserve it. Not for your sake at all. But because I will not go into oblivion carrying hate when I can carry love.’ 

[...]

Harpocrates gave me a dry smirk. My confusion, my sense of near panic must have given him what he needed to finally stop being angry at me. Of the two of us, he was the wiser god. He understood something I did not. [...]

The soundless god sent me one last image: me at an altar, making a sacrifice to the heavens. I interpreted that as an order: Make this worth it. Don’t fail. (TTT 291-292) 

Apollo loves people. He loves getting to know them, learn about them, figure them out. He could spend a lifetime just doing that. And he has. He did. He does know people. He does understand them. He possesses a great deal of emotional and social intelligence, and is well aware of it. A little too aware, in fact. A little too quick, a little too confident in passing judgement. 

This, too, is who Apollo is. He really does think he knows everything.

And yet, people keep managing to surprise him. They are so much more, they are so much better than he expects them to be. They look at him and don’t see a lost cause. They don’t protest when he calls them “friends”. They put their trust in him even when they know, when it couldn’t be more clear, that he’s as human and as fallible as any of them.

There is a world, here on the ground, far away from Olympus, far below the cold, unforgiving clouds, in which even Apollo qualifies for a second chance.

In front of me, Reyna and Meg stood shoulder to shoulder, facing down the god. 

They sent him their own flurry of images. 

Reyna pictured me singing ‘The Fall of Jason Grace’ to the legion, officiating at Jason’s funeral pyre with tears in my eyes, then looking goofy and awkward and clueless as I offered to be her boyfriend, giving her the best, most cleansing laugh she’d had in years. (Thanks, Reyna.) 

Meg pictured the way I’d saved her in the myrmekes’ lair at Camp Half-Blood, singing about my romantic failures with such honesty it rendered giant ants catatonic with depression. She envisioned my kindness to Livia the elephant, to Crest, and especially to her, when I’d given her a hug in our room at the café and told her I would never give up trying. 

In all their memories, I looked so human … but in the best possible ways. (TTT 288-289)

Apollo did not believe Percy when he told him he’d changed. He knew he hadn’t. But now, looking at Reyna and Meg’s memories of him, he realizes that’s not true. The proof is in front of him. The proof is Harpocrates. It’s the Sibyl. It’s Koronis. It’s all the worst mistakes he ever made, long ago, in the distant past, that he decided to never repeat, and that he didn’t, and that today he still can’t fix, that he will never be able to fix, but that he knows, he’s certain, he would not make again.

So maybe, just maybe, there actually is hope for him yet.

For the longest time, Apollo could not see it. But his friends do. 

And so maybe he doesn’t really know, maybe he doesn’t really understand everything. There are still things left for him to learn. Things that other people know, and understand, that he doesn’t. Things that other people can see better than him. 

So maybe other people can take their share of responsibility too. Maybe they should! They, too, made their own choices. Apollo has no right, really, to take credit for those. He’s made enough mistakes of his own. He’s made plenty. He can stop, now, feeling guilty for the choices that he didn’t, that he couldn’t make. He can stop feeling guilty for the bad choices that others made. 

Anger swelled in me. I decided I was done with the ravens’ bitterness. Plenty of folks had valid reasons to hate me: Harpocrates, the Sibyl, Koronis, Daphne … maybe a few dozen others. Okay, maybe a few hundred others. But the ravens? They were thriving! They’d grown gigantic! They loved their new job as flesh-eating killers. Enough with the blame. 

I secured the glass jar in my backpack. Then I unslung the bow from my shoulder. 

‘Scram or die!’ I yelled at the birds. ‘You get one warning!’ 

The ravens cawed and croaked with derision. One dived at me and got an arrow between the eyes. It spiralled downward, shedding a funnel cloud of feathers. 

I picked another target and shot it down. Then a third. And a fourth. 

The ravens’ caws became cries of alarm. They widened their circle, probably thinking they could get out of range. I proved them wrong. (TTT 295-296)

The weight of the world is too much to bear for anyone on their own. Even a god. No matter how powerful he is. No matter how willing. The truth is, Apollo isn’t so exceptional. He is not so different, in the end, from everybody else. Even he can’t do everything. He can only do his best. 

This, contrary to the expectations that Apollo had set for himself from the very beginning of this story, and that we’d been all too willing to accept without question well past the point where they had stopped making sense, is the only lesson that Apollo truly needed to learn. 

That he can’t – that he shouldn’t, shoulder all of this alone. 

He’s only human, after all. 

‘Meg and I have been talking, the last day or so, while you were passed out – I mean, recovering – sleeping, you know. It’s fine. You needed sleep. Hope you feel better.’ 

Despite how terrible I felt, I couldn’t help but smile. ‘You’ve been very kind to us, Praetor Zhang. Thank you.’ 

‘Erm, sure. It’s, you know, an honour, seeing as you’re … or you were –’ 

‘Ugh, Frank.’ Meg turned from her windowbox. ‘It’s just Lester. Don’t treat him like a big deal.’ (TTT 58-59)

Apollo has a lot of understandable resentment toward the name “Lester”. It’s another thing his father has forced on him, and that his enemies, and his allies too, up until this point, no matter how warranted it was, no matter how true, have used to put him in his place, to remind him of everything he’s not anymore, of everything he might never be again. 

Initially, Apollo is frustrated by how quickly and enthusiastically the Romans have taken to it. But at some point throughout the course of the book, he’s surprised to realize, also, that they are not using that name to belittle him.

Gods aren’t supposed to be people. They are not supposed to walk the earth among them. They are not supposed to get hurt. To bear the scars of it. To need sleep and food and someone to save them a seat at the table. They are not supposed to feel. They are not supposed to care. 

The Romans still observe all the rites, but no rites could have ever prepared them for the reality of Apollo as anything other than a distant golden idol. They have no idea how to even begin to handle being face to face with him. 

But Lester? That’s easy. 

Lester is one of them. 

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Rachel said. ‘Don’t do it.’ 

I feigned surprise. ‘Can you read my mind, Miss Dare?’ 

‘I don’t need to. I know you, Lord Apollo.’ 

A week ago, the idea would have made me laugh. A mortal could not know me. I had lived for four millennia. Merely looking upon my true form would have vaporized any human. Now, though, Rachel’s words seemed perfectly reasonable. With Lester Papadopoulos, what you saw was what you got. There really wasn’t much to know.

‘Don’t call me Lord,’ I sighed. (THO 344)

Gods aren’t meant to be seen, let alone understood. They aren’t meant to be known. There is still so much Apollo doesn’t tell anyone, even now that he’s resolved to stop hiding.

But what he’s failed to realize up until this moment, is that people don’t need to know everything, to be able to know him. His words and his actions speak for themselves. 

Even if I survive, he’d thought, my friends will see exactly what kind of dirtbag I am. 

And his friends do, indeed, see.

Reyna gave me a brief pat on the shoulder. ‘All we did was show Harpocrates how much you’ve changed. He recognized it. Have you completely made up for all the bad things you’ve done? No. But you keep adding to the “good things” column. That’s all any of us can do.’ (TTT 300) 

“Us,” says Reyna. She has absolutely no idea how much her and Apollo have in common. She doesn’t realize that they share the same struggles, that they are both at the same time having the same revelations about love and responsibility, that they are both at the same time learning to trust the people whom for so long they have thought of as their charges to take care of themselves, to take care of one another, to take on their own share of the load. She doesn’t know how wrong she is in thinking his ego will protect him from all wounds. 

But she understands one thing, the most important thing: he’s someone who wants, who is determined, who tries his absolute hardest, day after day, to do better. And that is enough. It’s enough for her to understand just how human he is. It’s enough for her to feel confident in saying “us”.

Apollo misses a lot of things from his former life. He does not miss the pedestal at all. No matter what he used to say, what he desperately tried to believe, Apollo doesn’t want to be above others. All he’s ever wanted is to be with them. 

And the people around him… they see it. They understand.

This is what they are offering him, whenever they call him by his mortal human name. 

Companionship. 

Redemption. 

The things that he craves more than anything in the world, found in the most unlikely of circumstances, under the most improbable of disguises, in a shape he never would have been able to imagine. 

Apollo had spent so long playing the beautiful fool, he’d forgotten that he could be, in Reyna’s words, sweet, and even adorkable at times. That he could be charming for real, and not just for pretend. He’d spent so long acting the part of an unreliable, ineffectual blowhard, he’d forgotten that he was indeed capable of inspiring gratitude, and respect, and loyalty. That he could be the kind of person whose friendship people might actually want, and value, and even seek out.

It takes him a while to catch up, but finally he understands. When the Romans call him Lester, they are calling him by the name that makes him their friend. 

I thought about Hazel and Frank and the washing away of curses. I supposed that kind of love could come from many different types of relationships. (TTT 192)

Slowly but surely, what started out as a very protagonist driven narrative has become more and more a choral one. It is especially evident now that our narrator is literally, physically, taken out of big chunks of the story by his festering infection, and we, together with him, are left to puzzle out everything we’ve missed in the gaps, but it’s been happening for a while. 

If at first Apollo almost single handedly carried the entire plot forward, and was uniquely instrumental, each time, to securing the third act resolution, as the story progressed, more and more people’s choices and actions started having an impact in more and more significant ways. 

Some of them he saw coming, but a lot of them he didn't. 

He’d seen Jason’s resignation to his fate, just like he picks up on Frank’s grim resolve now, even though he keeps hoping he’ll be proven wrong, so much so that he doesn’t quite grasp the full implications of it until it’s too late. He never saw Crest’s sacrifice coming. He couldn’t even begin to anticipate or comprehend the choice that Harpocrates and the Sibyl would make together. He doesn’t understand Lavinia’s real intentions until they are staring him in the face. He struggles to figure out even Meg, whom up until now he was sure he could read at a glance. 

Apollo does know people. He does understand them. But people, it turns out, are still, after all, more complex than he gives them credit for.

‘Meg,’ I said. ‘Last night –’ 

‘You saw Peaches. I know.’ [...]

‘You know,’ I repeated. 

‘He’s been around for a couple of days.’ 

‘You’ve seen him?’ 

‘Just sensed him. He’s got his reasons for staying away. Doesn’t like the Romans. He’s working on a plan to help the local nature spirits.’ 

‘And … if that plan is to help them run away?’ 

In the diffused grey light of the fog bank, Meg’s glasses looked like her own tiny satellite dishes. ‘You think that’s what he wants? Or what the nature spirits want?’ 

I remembered the fauns’ fearful expressions at People’s Park, the dryads’ weary anger. ‘I don’t know. But Lavinia –’ 

‘Yeah. She’s with them.’ [...]

I crossed my arms. ‘Well, I’m glad we had this talk, so I could unburden myself of all the things you already knew. I was also going to say that you’re important to me and I might even love you like a sister, but –’ 

‘I already know that, too.’ (TTT 242-243)

Meg is the reason why the Romans took so easily to the name “Lester”. She’s started calling him by that name almost all the time now, and they picked it up from her in the first couple of days, while Apollo wasn’t around to contradict her. 

Unlike them, though, Meg still seems to be using it as a bit of an insult, at least when she knows Apollo can hear her. 

“It’s just Lester,” she keeps reminding everybody, clearly annoyed by their awe and awkwardness around him. He’s no big deal. Yeah, yeah, he used to be a god but he’s not anymore. And even as a god, was he really all that? Meg, she makes it very plain, doesn’t think so. He’s my servant now, she says. He and I are a package deal, she declares to anyone who’ll listen. He’s kind of useless without me.

It’s a bit much, especially considering that Apollo, at this point, isn’t giving her even a fraction of the grief he used to at the beginning. As much as his shock at realizing that she really does not want him to die is a result of his own personal hangups more than anything else, it’s not that unreasonable on his part to think Meg must be angry at him. 

Because she is. 

‘You gotta rest. Tomorrow’s the senate meeting.’ 

I brushed her red high-top off my chest. ‘You’re not asleep, either.’ 

‘Yeah, but you’ll have to speak. They’ll wanna hear your plan.’ 

‘My plan?’ 

‘You know, like an oration. Inspire them and stuff. Convince them what to do. They’ll vote on it and everything.’ 

‘One afternoon in the unicorn stables, and you’re an expert on Roman senatorial proceedings.’ 

‘Lavinia told me.’ Meg sounded positively smug about it. She lay on her bed, tossing her other high-top in the air and catching it again. How she managed this without her glasses on, I had no idea. Minus the rhinestone cat-eye frames, her face looked older, her eyes darker and more serious. I would have even called her mature, had she not come back from her day at the stables wearing a glittery green T-shirt that read VNICORNES IMPERANT! 

‘What if I don’t have a plan?’ I asked. 

I expected Meg to throw her other shoe at me. Instead she said, ‘You do.’  (TTT 100-101)

It may have come as a surprise to Apollo, but it was no revelation for us that Meg loves him. It’s been obvious at least since she dared indirectly voice her hope of having gained a big brother, and extracted from him that promise of piano lessons at some point down the line, the tentative dream of a future she’d all but given up on before she met him.

Apollo refused to let her sacrifice herself as penance for her crimes. He took her back after her betrayal without a word, or even a hint of reproach. He gave her hope and trust and faith in herself when she had none. Of course she loves him. How could she not? 

It took Apollo almost 4 books to realize this. What he doesn’t realize, still, is that this is not all. Because Meg doesn’t just love him. Somewhere between the end of the last book and this one, she started to believe in him too.

She told him on the plane already: “you’re going to beat the Triumvirate.” In her mind, it’s not a question of if anymore, only of how. “It’ll make sense once we get there,” she said, with rock solid certainty, because she may not know everything, she may not even know most things about Apollo, about the circumstances that brought him here, now, in this manner, about the workings of this whole affair, still, but at this point, after all they’ve been through together, she truly does know him. 

It’s because of this that she’s grown serious, and restless, and even surlier than usual. Because she's started to realize that at some point down the line, some point soon, too soon, even if he survives, especially if he survives, she will lose him for real, and for good. 

She sees it, now. This weird, insufferable teenage boy with a ridiculously big heart, an even bigger lack of common sense and the peculiar ability to give anyone in his vicinity second hand embarrassment, who got stuck to her against his will, and who then chose to stick by her willingly, who told her that she was good and powerful and capable of making her own choices, that she deserved more, that she deserved better… He really is him. The guy from the storybooks. The Brilliant Apollo. When all this is finished, he really will go back to the city of the gods, far above the clouds. 

As much as he loves her – and she knows, she has absolutely no doubt that he does – she will end up a footnote in his long life. 

So she clings to the name that makes him hers. Lester. But she knows he won’t choose to remain Lester for her. She knows that he shouldn’t. No matter how much he loves her, she can’t keep him all to herself. It would be wrong of her to even ask. Gods belong to everyone. And this is who Apollo is. This is what he wants. She knows, just as surely as she knows him. He wants to belong to everyone.

I gazed at the giant statue of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, his purple toga rippling like a matador’s cape. 

C’mon, he seemed to be telling me. You know you want to. 

The most powerful of the Olympians. It was well within his power to smite the emperors’ armies, heal my zombie wound and set everything right at Camp Jupiter (which, after all, was named in his honour). He might even notice all the heroic things I’d done, decide I’d suffered enough and free me from the punishment of my mortal form. 

Then again… he might not. Could be that he was expecting me to call on him for help. Once I did, he might make the heavens rumble with his laughter and a deep, divine Nope! 

To my surprise, I realized I did not want my godhood back that badly. I didn’t even want to live that badly. If Jupiter expected me to crawl to him for help, begging for mercy, he could stick his lightning bolt right up his cloaca maxima. (TTT 331-332)

“What price would I be willing to pay?” Apollo asked himself just last book. And now he has to answer the question. What is he willing to give up to save himself? To save his friends? 

In the little abusive cult that he calls family, as his pride and his confidence and his ambition were systematically beaten out of him, Apollo has learned to always weigh the odds, and to always, always opt for what was smart, for what was safe. He has been at his father’s mercy all his life. He knows, in the end, there’s no winning by playing his father’s game. But if he does it, if he accepts to humiliate himself and dance on his father’s strings one more time, maybe he can win this one round. 

And isn’t that the wise choice to make then? For all Apollo knows, this is the best he can do. There’s no guarantee that he can do more. That he can do better than this. The safest thing to do, in this moment, would be to call on his father and grovel. 

“He’s evil. You’re good,” he’d told Meg in what almost feels like a previous life now, at the beginning of this story, when she turned to him with a silent plea to find her a way to appease her stepfather without betraying everything that she knew, in her heart, to be right. “You must make your own choice.” 

He could state it in such simple, clear terms for her. He was light years away from being willing and ready to believe that it applied to him too. 

But now, after all the time he’s spent on earth, a regular human person among so many others who are just like him, exactly like him in all the ways that most matter, all these people who care, who get attached, who long for companionship and redemption, who want to do more, who want to do better, and who, all of them, including those who had every reason not to, have shown him more respect and compassion and understanding than his father ever did... that doesn’t seem so impossible to believe anymore. 

It’s the bridges Apollo has been building all throughout his journey, the relationships he’s formed, at first tentatively, and then more and more easily and freely, his commitment, first, to see each of the people around him, and now, finally, to the humbling labor of letting them see him in turn, everything he’s given without expectation that it would ever be returned, and that he got back tenfold, that make this choice possible for him.

Like Jason, when he stood up for his brother at the Parthenon, like Frank with his piece of wood, like Lavinia, and Don the faun, and Reyna, and Meg, and all the people who helped him along the way, who embraced him as one of them, Apollo makes the choice to not live in fear. He rejects the safe option in favor of the one that he knows, that he feels deep in his heart is right. He has no idea whether his gamble will have any hope of paying off, but he knows this is the only way to make a real difference. 

And that’s what life is for. That’s what power is for. That’s what heroism is all about. Making a difference. 

Apollo already had his answer. He’s always had it. Immortality and meaning, power and kindness, divinity and humanity, are not mutually exclusive. Not for him. In spite of everything he’s been taught, in the horrible little cult that he calls family, Apollo wants both. 

And maybe, just maybe, he’s starting to believe this is one thing that he does not need to apologize for. 

So he’s done hesitating. He’s done fishing for excuses. This is who Apollo is. He wants to love. He wants to grow attached. He wants to spend the rest of eternity meeting new people, figuring them out only to still be surprised by them anyway. And when they’re gone – because they will all be gone soon, always too soon, he wants to cry for them. He wants to remember them. What is a god of music, of poetry, of medicine, if not a god who profoundly loves humanity? This is who Apollo is. He wants to be our friend. He wants to know us, and understand us, and learn from us, and fall in love with us, over and over and over again. He wants it all. 

Then he better stop wasting time. He better try and take it. 

I unslung my bow and pulled out an arrow. I gathered the lightest, driest kindling into a small pile. It had been a long time since I’d made a fire the old mortal way – spinning an arrow in a bowstring to create friction – but I gave it a go. I fumbled half a dozen times, nearly poking my eye out. My archery student Jacob would’ve been proud. (TTT 333-334)

He recognizes all of the kids he meets on the battlefield. He calls them “my students,” remembering their efforts with fondness, their mistakes with respect. He’d almost forgotten what being a teacher actually feels like. He loves it. He always has.

He will mourn each and every one of them who doesn’t make it. He will take responsibility, as he always does, but he won’t let himself be crushed by the weight of it.

He is afraid, yes. Failure is still a very real possibility. More real than ever now. He knows. But Frank was right. The only way to win is to commit one hundred percent. And so that’s what Apollo does. 

His hands may still tremble, but his aim is true. 

From this moment onward, it’s like the floodgates have opened. His power, that before eluded him for long strings of chapters, for almost entire books, starts returning to him now more and more quickly, a miracle every few pages, small ones, big ones, and ones that even back when he was still whole, brilliant and golden and unbroken, he never would have thought to be capable of. 

Commodus fought, but his fists were like paper. I let loose a guttural roar – a song with only one note: pure rage, and only one volume: maximum. Under the onslaught of sound, Commodus crumbled to ash. My voice faltered. I stared at my empty palms. I stood and backed away, horrified. The charred outline of the emperor’s body remained on the tarmac. I could still feel the pulse of his carotid arteries under my fingers. What had I done? In my thousands of years of life, I’d never destroyed someone with my voice. (TTT 360)

This is the power of a god. The power that Apollo has been desperately trying to get back all this time. And yet, when he has it, his immediate, instinctive reaction is one of horror. 

Commodus was beyond saving. He was beyond redemption. He’d made his choice, over and over and over again. He had to be stopped. But he was still a person. And the power to turn a person into ashes with a scream IS horrifying. It’s the kind of power that can and should make good people uneasy. And for all the time Apollo has spent worrying, trying to convince everybody, and most of all himself, that he isn’t one, his thoughts and actions have betrayed him every step of the way. 

But Apollo is done hesitating. He pushes past his discomfort and moves forward. He keeps succeeding against impossible odds. He keeps surviving things that would kill on the spot any regular mortal human, let alone one who is literally dying of magical zombie poison. 

Finally not just accepting, but WELCOMING the help of his friends every step of the way, he survives long enough for his twin to make it to him in time.

I beamed at my sister. It was so good to see her disapproving I-can’t-believe-you’re-my-brother frown again. ‘I love you,’ I said, my voice hoarse with emotion. 

She blinked, clearly unsure what to do with this information. ‘You really have changed.’ 

‘I missed you!’ 

‘Y-yes, well. I’m here now. Even Dad couldn’t argue with a Sibylline invocation from Temple Hill.’ (TTT 383) 

The two of them, they had a routine. They each had their lines to say, rehearsed a thousand times. But Apollo, for the first time in who knows how long, goes off script. That’s what actually shocks her, so much so that she fumbles a bit for words. Not the intensity of his love, which, unlike him, she’s never had reason to doubt, but that he would state it out loud, in front of everybody, so plainly that it’s impossible to mistake for anything other than what it is. 

Gods aren’t supposed to feel. Not like this. At the very least, they aren’t supposed to show it.

She used to be able to anticipate his every move, but in just a couple of lines he’s upended all the rules that they’ve always tacitly agreed upon. 

In her sudden insecurity, she grasps for reassurance in the exact same way he always does.

“Little brother,” she calls him, reminding him that it’s her job to take care of him. Ostensibly, to annoy him. In truth, to reassure herself, to reaffirm to everybody, that no matter how far away from her he seems to be now, no matter how changed, he is still hers.

She only relaxes the moment he feigns being insulted at it. Now they are back on track. Back on familiar, comfortable territory. Back to pretending they don’t care for each other nearly as much as they both do. Not that Apollo is really any good at it anymore. Not that she is either, taking his hand into hers and squeezing it tight, staying as close to him as a shadow until she has no choice but to let him go.

‘Diana didn’t want to leave camp so suddenly like that,’ Thalia continued. ‘But you know how it is. Gods can’t stick around. Once the danger to New Rome had passed, she couldn’t risk overstaying her summons. Jupiter … Dad wouldn’t approve.’ I shivered. How easy it was to forget that this young woman was also my sister. And Jason was my brother. At one time, I would have discounted that connection. They’re just demigods, I would have said. Not really family. (TTT 403-404)

The truth is, Apollo was never as alone as he thought he was. 

He’s always had family, he’s always had friends he could count on. People willing to offer him the things he so desperately wanted, and was sure he didn’t deserve. He’s been loved and trusted hundreds of millions of times over. 

But they were just demigods. Just mortals. Their lives so short, so fragile, so easily lost. Their knowledge and their power so crushingly small compared to his. What weight could their love, their forgiveness, their good opinion of him have, then? Of course they love me, Apollo used to think. They feel indebted to me. They don’t know better. Of course they would forgive someone who could strike them down with a thought. 

But none of the excuses he used to make up in his head to discount these people’s generosity, their desire to give back the kindness they’d received from him, holds up to scrutiny now. 

These people, it turns out, truly are greater than Apollo gives them credit for. They don’t expect him to do everything. They just ask him to do his best. 

“I don’t blame you,” Thalia tells him, and finally, finally, Apollo is ready to hear it and believe it. He still doesn’t think he deserves it, but he knows now, he understands, that that is not his call to make. Jason made his choice, and Thalia has made hers. She won’t let the death of a brother be cause for the loss of another one. 

As he accepts her absolution, Apollo can’t help but feel ashamed. The truth is, also, that a small, dark part of him liked to believe he was special. That he was dearer to his father than most of these fragile, short lived people were. That Zeus, his king, his abuser, his dad, would not just let him die like he did all his other children. 

For a time, there is no doubt that that must have been true. For all Apollo knows in this moment, it could still be. A small, dark part of him still clings to that belief, to that hope, despite all evidence.

‘I wanted to ask: Does it hurt? Reincarnation?’ 

My eyes were too blurry to see properly. ‘I – I’ve never reincarnated, Don. When I became human, that was different, I think. But I hear reincarnation is peaceful. Beautiful.’ [...]

‘I hope … maybe I come back as a hemlock? That would be like … an action-hero plant, right?’ 

Lavinia nodded, her lips quivering. ‘Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.’ 

‘Cool … Hey, Apollo, you – you know the difference between a faun and a satyr …?’ 

He smiled a little wider, as if ready to deliver the punchline. His face froze that way. His chest stopped moving. Dryads and fauns began to cry. Lavinia kissed the faun’s hand, then pulled a piece of bubblegum from her bag and reverently slipped it into Don’s shirt pocket. 

A moment later, his body collapsed with a noise like a relieved sigh, crumbling into fresh loam. In the spot where his heart had been, a tiny sapling emerged from the soil. I immediately recognized the shape of those miniature leaves. Not a hemlock. A laurel – the tree I had created from poor Daphne, and whose leaves I had decided to make into wreaths. The laurel, the tree of victory. 

One of the dryads glanced at me. ‘Did you do that …?’ 

I shook my head. I swallowed the bitter taste from my mouth. ‘The only difference between a satyr and a faun,’ I said, ‘is what we see in them. And what they see in themselves. Plant this tree somewhere special.’ I looked up at the dryads. ‘Tend it and make it grow healthy and tall. This was Don the faun, a hero.’ (TTT 398-399) 

Apollo never lies to people about their own fate, no matter how painful, how unforgiving the truth is, no matter how little they can do to avoid it, no matter how much he wishes he could spare them. He never makes them promises he can’t keep. He doesn’t want to be that kind of god. He doesn’t want to be that kind of person. The circumstances of his birth haven’t made it easy for him, and he hasn’t always been good at it, but he really does his best to treat people with respect. 

So he does not lie to Don. He doesn’t make him promises. He just kneels at his side and offers him what little reassurance he can as the faun passes away.

“Did you do that?” the dryad asks Apollo when she sees the laurel tree. Apollo tells her the truth. He didn’t do anything. Nobody other than Don could have performed that miracle. Don the faun made himself a hero. 

“The only difference between a satyr and a faun,” Apollo says, answering Don’s last question, “is what we see in them, and what they see in themselves.” 

“You humans are more than the sum of your history,” he’d told Piper. “You can overcome the expectations of your family and your society.” And the truth is, he’d confessed, “we gods are a little in awe of you mortals.” Because mortals can see in themselves the potential to change. To grow. To be better tomorrow than they are now. To be better than everybody else believes they can be. 

Despite how small and fragile and powerless they are, Apollo believes in people’s right to make their own choices. And yet, in his entire lifetime, somehow, he had never quite managed to bring himself to believe that when given a choice, people might choose to stick by him. That they might be able to see past his failures, his missteps, his ignorance, his impotence. That they might choose not to hold those against him, love him in spite of them, and sometimes even because of them. That they might choose to believe in him anyway. That they might ask of him nothing more than to keep trying. That they might want to help him, even knowing that it could cost them everything. 

“I was a god then,” he says. “I didn't know what I was doing.” It’s a lie. It’s also the truth. 

He didn’t know that companionship, that redemption could look like this. He didn’t know how stupid, how presumptuous it really was of him, who kept offering his help to people, to think himself above receiving any in return. 

People help one another, and gods are people too. 

And Apollo sees it now. He sees it more clearly than he has allowed himself to in a long, long time. He, too, has the capacity to change. He has the capacity to be better. And he won’t have to do it alone. These people are eager to support him, if he will only let them.

[andypantsx3]

statistically significant | 6 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

Mina, Kaminari, and Bakugou did not waste any time.

No sooner had Bakugou spoken than he had you on your feet, shepherding you to the door. His movements had completely changed--no longer was he loud, aggressive, the most volatile thing in the room. Now, he slipped behind you like a shadow, his body pressed firmly and protectively over you, lithe armor at your back.

Mina and Kaminari moved with you, looking solemn.

“We’re going for the surveillance room,” Bakugou growled, “Need to see what the fuck is happening.”

The hall was barren as you emerged into it, silent and still until another explosion rocked the foundations of the building.

“And fast, we need to get Y/N out,” Mina added.

You didn’t protest. You didn’t know what the hell was going on, but you knew distant explosions couldn’t mean anything good.

The surveillance room made it all too clear exactly what was happening. Tens of people were pouring into the top levels of the building, smashing through windows on the business floors, blowing the sides of the building clean open near marketing. A few men dressed in dark coats appeared to have the gall to waltz straight through the front entrance. Everywhere, Miruko’s civilian employees were fleeing in all directions, uncertain of where to run in the chaos.

Your pulse spiked wildly and you watched as Bakugou’s gaze narrowed to scarlet pinpricks as he seemed to spot something familiar to him.

Kaminari made a choked noise. “Is that--?”

“Sugimoto,” Bakugou growled, tapping the image of a tall man surrounded by some kind of glowing purple forcefield quirk. A crackle of sparks lit off from Bakugou’s palm, hot and sharp, and you jumped in surprise.

“What’s Sugimoto?” you asked, looking up into his face.

His lip curled disdainfully. “He’s head of a crime syndicate. Miruko agency raided them a couple months ago in coordination with the police, took down almost the entire syndicate in one straight shot. Miruko killed both of his brothers during the firefight--I’d bet anything he’s here for revenge.”

You suppressed a shiver. Either the man was incredibly confident in his own ability to take on the number seven hero and her entire agency, or he was fucking insane and desperate for revenge. Either way, you did not want to be caught in the crossfire.

“Raccoon, Pikachu, get up to the business level,” Bakugou commanded, a calloused hand closing around your arm. “I’m gonna get the nerd out first, and then I’ll be back to roast Sugimoto in his fucking skin.”

Kaminari nodded and Mina gave you a smile and a reassuring pet over your hair. “Don’t be too late or we’ll get to have all the fun,” she said to Bakugou, winking.

And then she and Kaminari were gone, disappearing in the direction of the stairwell. Your heart rate stuttered nervously, watching them go. Mina’s confidence was reassuring--she was fucking terrifying when she was in her element, and Kaminari was powerful too. But there had been so many people flowing into the building, like the rising tide of a sudden tsunami. You hoped they would be okay.

“You in there, nerd?” Bakugou’s voice cut through your flurry of doubt.

You looked up at him, steeling your features. He was still streaked with dirt and scratches from the training room. You hoped having trained so much already wasn’t going to disadvantage any of them in their fight. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”

He considered you, blonde brows turned down. “You’re gonna be fine, nerd. I’ll kill anyone who fucking looks at you.”

A small strangled noise like a laugh escaped your throat. He was so bad at being reassuring, it was almost reassuring in and of itself. He still was going to be entering the fray several hours into using his quirk already, however. You wondered if his self certainty was going to be enough.

“You don’t think I will?” he demanded angrily, looking absolutely incensed. He looked like he might storm out of your office again, like you had just said the word help to him.

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” you said. “When you go back in, just--be careful, okay?”

His eyes picked over you curiously. Then a small, mortifying smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I fucking knew you had a crush on me, you little freak.”

Your face heated as you gabbled out a protest. “This is so not the time. And I didn’t say that.”

Bakugou rolled a strong shoulder, looking far more relaxed that he had any right to. “Yeah, whatever. You’ll be singing a different tune when this is over.” He watched you for a long moment, his expression looking strangely contemplative.

And then he leaned down and kissed you on the mouth.

Your brain went empty. This could have been just another day at the office for all the thought you were giving the fight upstairs. This could have been any day anywhere, because suddenly you couldn’t remember where you were or what the fuck was going on at all. Bakugou’s mouth was hot and insistent, and he curled a strong arm around your waist to draw you closer, biting down gently on your lip.

You grabbed a fistful of his shirt for dear life, knees going strangely weak, as he swore into your mouth and pressed you into him harder.

“Fuck, I’m not finished with you,” he said when he released you, pressing one last hard kiss to your mouth. “You’re gonna stay right the fuck where I put you, got it?”

You nodded dumbly, trying to will your fingers into unclenching from his shirt. “Y--yeah.”

He smirked, looking far too pleased with himself. You felt your eyebrow twitch reflexively, despite everything that had just happened. “Alright, stay close, nerd. I’m gonna get you the fuck out of here.”

You nodded again. He pulled you behind him, letting you fist your hands in his shirt again, and then lead the way down the hall, keeping close to the wall, the line of his body tense and alert. Some of your earlier uneasiness settled back over you, oppressively heavy, weighing down your every step. The training had been truly terrifying but this was much, much worse, the dread and anticipation coiling in your gut until you thought you might be sick.

You made it to the stairwell and flipped up several floors without incident, though you could hear with some clarity the scuffles ongoing on the floors above you. You encountered no one, not even fellow heroes or civilians, until you hit the ground floor.

Bakugou reached behind him, pressing you even closer to his back with a firm hand. “Alright, nerd. Stay close while I move. If I stop, stay still and trust me, alright?”

Your blood pounded in your veins and you took a calming breath. You could hear the sounds of a fight just beyond the door, but there was no other way out of the stairwell. You’d just have to go through the main floor. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Good girl,” he said. And then he kicked open the door.

Your brain short circuited and you had just enough mind to register that he was moving, scrambling to keep up with him as he stalked forward through the doorway. You held on to the back of his shirt, pulse spiking wildly, and not just because of your apprehension.

There was a deafening boom like thunder and the hall in front of you went up in a flash, the walls splintering into pieces. Over one of Bakugou’s broad shoulders, you could see the explosion blowing two men straight through the window at the end of the hall, glass shattering around them.

From down the hall came Miruko’s harsh tone, her breath a little labored. “Katsuki, fucking watch it! That’s my window.”

“Yeah yeah,” Bakugou growled, not sounding the least bit chastened. He pulled you to the side as something cold went sailing past your left shoulder, firing off another blast from his palm to shoot the person right through the hole in the window he’d just made.

The two of you crossed through the halls slowly but surely, Bakugou sending anyone who came across your path straight through the wall. To your surprise, he ducked into rooms as he went, demanding that the agency employees hiding under their desks “stop acting like little piss babies and get a move on.” Soon there was a small squadron of people following after his back, and Bakugou had you out of the building and blinking in the sunshine before any of the villains caught the group escaping.

“Stay with these extras,” Bakugou commanded imperiously, shoving you after the group of employees towards the end of the street where the growing swell of sirens could be heard. “I’ll see you soon, nerd.”

He paused, fingers brushing over your mouth for a moment. And then he was gone, shooting himself straight back into the fray. The sirens at the end of the street got louder, and soon several squad cars were pulling around the corner. You joined the flow of people streaming out of Miruko’s agency towards the police, though you couldn’t rip your eyes from the agency building.

The windows had been blown out tens of floors up, and you could hear the crackle of quirks in use, see the flash and bang of Kaminari’s lightning, the blue glow of an unknown quirk on the fifth floor, a tangle of vines wrestling several men out of a window on the fourteenth floor. Mina appeared at a window briefly, covered in acid hardened to an armor, easily deflecting what might have been a devastating blow and kicking a yakuza straight through the glass.

You bit down on a whooping cheer. Now wasn’t the moment.

You tried to keep sight of what was going on as the police shepherded you behind a makeshift blockade, cordoning off the area and sweeping the nearby buildings to help evacuate. The crowd of people around you chattered and shifted restlessly. The longer the fight dragged out, the more anxious you became, your senses heightened to the point of strain, looking for any sign of Bakugou and the others.

Then, to your horror, detonations went off on several of the floors, blowing out the remaining windows, and the building itself shuddered and groaned. A chorus of screams went up from inside the agency as pieces of the building began to detach themselves, crumbling to the ground. Your heart leapt into your mouth, blood icing over in your veins.

A few terrified looking civilians appeared at the windows on the top floors, clinging to the window frames as the foundation lurched. You went still, hardly breathing. Oh my god, were they going to jump? They were several stories up, odds were low they would survive if they did. But--the building shuddered again--fuck, they weren’t going to make it if they went back inside.

Oh my god you were going to watch people die right in front of you.

No sooner had you had the thought than someone was rocketing straight up at them from the ground. Your heart rate spiked, recognizing that mess of blonde hair--Bakugou. Without ceremony he grabbed two people and leapt back off the side of the building, using his explosions to slow their descent. They’d barely met the ground before he was up again, catching another two around the middle and hurtling straight for the ground once more.

Your fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt, watching him anxiously. There were just a few more, just three more people and he would have everyone. You willed your breathing to slow, eyes glued to the scene before you.

Then there was a purple glow, and Sugimoto appeared behind the civilians.

You stopped breathing.

Sugimoto kicked one of the civilians in the back of the knee, sending him out of window, careening head over heels towards the ground. Bakugou had barely just enough time to react, tackling the man in mid air and hitting the side of the building hard with his shoulder before he was able to correct their trajectory.

The building gave another rattle as he did, a crack splitting straight up the middle, spiderwebbing into a thousand smaller fissures.

A blur of pink appeared at the base of the building, Mina materializing just as Bakugou hit the ground with the civilian. A crowd of heroes dragging injured civilians followed her, several of them immediately grabbing onto the people Bakugou had gotten to the ground and towing them out of arm’s reach.

You looked back up to the top floor where Sugimoto had the last two employees in his grip, the edges of that forcefield rippling and roiling over him. His mouth moved like he was saying something but you were too far to hear it, though you could guess the implication. He had a forcefield quirk in a building he’d engineered to collapse. The heroes could choose to go after him but the building was seconds away from imploding, and there wouldn’t be enough time to grab both him and the civilians. Even if Bakugou went up, he only had enough capacity for two people--he’d have to pick between the civilians if he also wanted to grab Sugimoto. And besides that, he wasn’t indestructible. Bakugou didn’t have a quirk that could shield him the same way Sugimoto did as the building went down.

The idea hit you at the same time it appeared to hit Mina and Bakugou. The people around you began to murmur in alarm as Bakugou sank back on the concrete, laying down flat on his back like he was going to take a nap in the sun. In the midst of a crisis the visual was certainly out of place, and a soft “what the fuck is he doing?” from behind you reaffirmed it.

Quick as a flash, Mina had coated herself in hardened acid, and then she was stretching out over Bakugou’s lean form, her vicious smile visible even from where you stood. Bakugou raised his hands to her stomach and called something to the heroes nearby. They all went stumbling back, tearing away from him as fast as they could.

All was still for a second. And then a blast of heat and fire ripped through the street, a roar like thunder rendering you deaf for a moment. You closed your eyes against the wave of hot wind and dust Bakugou’s explosion kicked up, and when you managed to crack one open, Mina was hurtling through the window like a rocket, hitting the edge of Sugimoto’s shield and driving him straight back into the building.

The civilians dropped from his grip.

Bakugou braced his hands against the ground and let off another massive explosion, propelling him straight upwards. He met the civilians in seconds, managing to grab them and flip around in mid air, aiming another series of blasts at the ground to control their fall.

A shocked cheer went up behind you when they hit the street, and you couldn’t contain your own gleeful noise that escaped you, though you couldn’t tear your eyes from the spot where Mina had disappeared.

Bakugou barely had time to get the civilians clear before the top floor began to crumble as the building shook, plaster dislodging itself from the ceiling and slapping down in loud thuds you could hear even from where you stood. You watched anxiously, waiting for Mina’s reappearance, as the building gave one final shudder and then caved in.

The second it did, a head of wild pink curls appeared and Mina flung herself off the top floor, just as the floor gave out underneath her. Bakugou was already moving, breaking into an all out sprint. He flung his arms out behind him, explosions ripping up the ground underneath him, and he collided with Mina mere feet from the ground, wrapping an arm around her and blasting them both back up just as chunks of the building slammed down where they had been.

The entire building came crumbling down in a shower of grey dust, shaking the street and sending a wave of car alarms sounding. Bakugou and Mina came down in a semi-controlled spiral, managing to hit the street just beyond the police barricade, Bakugou rolling in the same move he’d done with you earlier to disperse some of their momentum.

A wild cheer went up and you shouted too, elation rising in you like a flood, crawling through your limbs like a slow shiver.

Miruko hopped the barrier beside you, rushing over to where Bakugou and Mina lay. They were both panting, covered head to do in grey dust, looking worse for wear but alive.

“Sugimoto?” Miruko demanded.

Bakugou pushed himself up on an elbow, the red of his eyes bright against the dust covering him, like a spot of blood on a tissue. Mina popped up next to him, nosy bloody, but grinning.

“Unconscious,” she announced. “Shoved him out the back of the building before it collapsed. I melted the floor under him and he lost focus for a second. That’s all I needed to hit him and encase him in acid. He should be a little injured from the fall but alive.”

Miruko grinned savagely, leaning down to ruffle both of their hair. “You did good work, brats.”

“Get the fuck offa me, hag,” Bakugou complained. You noticed he made no move to dislodge her hand, though, and you stifled a laugh at how obvious he was. Mina had said he had a thing for girls who fucked with him...

Then Kaminari was bursting past Miruko, throwing himself onto the two of them in a whirlwind of tears and flailing limbs.

“That was the coolest shit I have ever seen!” he declared at a deafening volume. “You launched Mina through a building! It was fucking awesome!”

“I’ll launch you through a building if you don’t get the fuck off me,” Bakugou growled, shoving Kaminari’s weight straight onto Mina. He rolled to his feet before Kaminari could come back for more, cocking his head to look into the crowd like he was looking for something. An EMT to patch him up? An officer to make a report, maybe?

Then his eyes locked onto you, and you realized.

Oh, he was looking for you.

He was on you in seconds. You didn’t have time to even squeak out his name before he was swallowing it up, pulling you close to him. He tasted like ash and dust, frankly kind of gross, but you were so disturbingly relieved that he was okay that you didn’t even care, pressing even harder against him as he kissed you.

And okay. So maybe you did have a thing for him, you thought. Maybe. Just a little.

He was still annoying as hell, but he’d just saved a ton of people. Just now, you hadn’t even seen him engage in combat except to rescue people, he’d saved dozens of people including you and Mina, and he’d pulled off the most awesome assist that you had ever seen, letting Mina take down the big bad instead of haring in after the dude himself.

He could, maybe for now, totally get it.

Bakugou smirked down at you when you finally separated, red eyes and white teeth bright against all the grime on him. He leaned in, placing a hand on your cheek.

And in the haughtiest, most migraine-inducing tone ever, he said: “Now who’s the fucking best?”

You made no effort to conceal your eye roll. Well, you supposed, there was only so much about a person that could change in a month.

Instead of complaining, you let him kiss you again.

[sugako]

tendou x f!reader

req: 1-800-bedtime w/ tendou (11&25) 

cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, fluffy, wax play, mirror sex, unprotected sex, semi-body worship/lots of compliments, pet name used (love), very soft, established relationship

a/n: ummm this is much longer than intended whoops, but i loved this idea i can’t even begin to describe just....ty anon for the req ily 

you had just been messing around when you stuck the tip of your finger into the wax of a freshly blown-out candle. the little, apathetic “ow” you let you made tendou look up from across the table to see what you were doing. when he cocked an eyebrow you stuck up your finger that was capped with the hardening wax. 

“it was hot.” you said lamely, already getting up to peel it away and toss it in the trash. he pursed his lips while he held back a grin and stood. 

“it really is. i’m going to grab a couple things down the street, i’ll be right back.” he said quickly, already throwing on a jacket. 

“wait, i can come with you. just let me, uhh...” you glanced down at your more than casual appearance - stained t-shirt that was two sizes too big, sleep shorts that were just a little too short, cushy slippers, and damp hair. “do you mind if i stay home?” 

“it shatters my very fragile heart, but no, not at all, love. do you need anything?” he came back around the table to press a quick kiss to your forehead, more than thankful that he didn’t have to ask you to wait here. 

“can you get that bread i like and, uh, maybe an iced coffee for tomorrow morning?” you struggled through your mental checklist of groceries that were running low, but couldn’t come up with many. 

“of course.” he kissed you again and made his way out the door. 

when he got back, you who were too busy tidying up the apartment before bed, didn’t even notice the extra bag definitely not from the shop around the corner. you padded into the kitchen to help him unpack, only to be stopped by one of his hands wrapping around the top of your arm. 

“go to bed, i’ll meet you there with a little surprise, okay?” the way his whisper reverberated around your ear sent a shock down your spine. shivering as you pulled away, you nodded quickly and pressed a fast kiss to his cheek before you headed to the bedroom. 

it was almost embarrassing how easily he could rile you up with just some simple words and the brush of his fingers, but you really didn’t mind. a bit awkwardly you sat on the bed, knees pulled up to your chest, trying to distract yourself with your phone to no avail. 

his gentle knock as he opened the door jolted you out of your own head. your eyes drew over his perfect form, already changed into a big sweatshirt and boxers. it was more than obvious that he was hiding something, blatantly holding his arms behind his back. 

“can we try something?” he purred, striding to the bed and kneeling on the mattress with one knee. 

you jaw twitched in tense anticipation. “what?” you squeaked out. 

his relaxed smile grew as he presented three deep red candles that matched his buzzed head and pretty eyes. your breath hitched as you realized, and then a small laugh bubbled out of your chest. 

“because i touched the wax earlier?” you giggled, pulling him on top of yourself and peppering him with little pecks. 

“maybe,” he grinned into your embrace, returning your kisses, “thought it might be fun.” 

“okay, but don’t set our apartment on fire. or me.” you sigh as he sits back up, kneeling over you. 

“no promises, love.” he hums, letting the candles drop into the dip of mattress by your bodies as he ghosts his hands under your shirt until you get the hint and pull it off. his fingers graze up your stomach and around your breasts, taking all of you in. “you’re so beautiful.” 

you roll your eyes, “sator-”

“stop.” he says firmly, tucking his face against your neck and trailing hot, wet, open-mouth kisses down your front. “you’re perfect, want you to see how perfect you are.” he mumbles against your heaving chest. 

you’re silent, knowing you can’t argue. his fingers hook into the band of your shorts as his mouth travels farther down your torso, moving to your hips when he pulls your shorts down and off your ankles. fully exposed, you shiver under his touch as he comes back up to sweetly kiss you fully on the lips.

hands tangle around the back of his head, brushing through the softness of his short hair, while the kiss deepens. as if forcing himself, he pulls away with a little huff and pout that relaxes into a smile when he sees you all out of breath and quivering beneath him. 

with weak hands you tug at the hem of his sweatshirt. “not fair,” you sigh out. he can’t deny you, immediately tugging the top over his head. greedily, your eyes drink in the sight of him, pale and slim and perfectly toned. 

he tosses two of the candles onto the bedside table, keeping a tight grip over the last one, and rattles through the drawer for a lighter. 

“ready?” he asks as he lights it, the tiny flame flickering for a moment before it steadies.

“uh-huh, yeah,” you manage out. 

“tell me if it’s too hot, okay? these are special ones for using on your body, but i want you to let me know if you don’t like anything.” 

you sight is transfixed on the way the wax begins to melt, drips perilously teetering over your skin. “i will, safeword is mendiant.” you offer up before he gets the chance to ask you.

“good,” he hums, tipping the candle so the drips land squarely against your sternum.

the way you twitch and whine under him as the hot wax dribbles down your middle goes straight to his cock, and he has to shift the way he’s sitting to stop himself from getting too distracted. 

“feel good?” he whispers out, all hoarse and uneven, eyes transfixed to the peaks of your breasts. all you can do is whimper out a gasp and nod enthusiastically. the wax is hot, but not too much, and the way it drips down your skin, the little patterns he’s creating along your stomach and chest, just make you want more. 

you want him - now. but you also don’t want to stop, relishing in the way he’s pressing into the top of thigh while he, obviously, holds back. thighs, clamped together by his knees that straddle you, fidget under him trying to get a lick of friction, which is nearly impossible with all the slick between your legs. 

“so pretty like this,” he breathes out, “i want you to see how pretty you are.” 

he blows out the candle, setting it atop the other two on the nightstand, and gets off of you to shuck his boxers off then pull you into his lap facing the large wall mirror over the sliding door of the closet. the room is very dim, barely illuminated by the setting sun that peeks through the wispy curtains, so it’s impossible to see yourself clearly, but you can see enough. 

tendou pulls you close, so your back is flush to his bare chest, and easily pries your legs open. his cock sat comfortably between your legs, twitching under the hotness of your cunt. this wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, he had you to watch yourself, admiring the reflection as you got fucked dumb on his cock. the first few times you weren’t sure - it was unfamiliar, intimate, and more personal - but you soon learned to enjoy it just as enthusiastically as he did, especially when he was showering you with soothing compliments the entire time. 

“so wet from a little wax, love?” he settles his chin against your shoulder.

“mhmm...” you sigh, grinding against him. “satori, i want you.” 

his grin relaxes as he silently heeds your words, lifting you off his lap enough to slip his cock between your folds. once he’s lined up he holds your hips and an iron grip, helping you down his length. you whimper and whine the entire long moment, determined to easily take him. 

he watches as your eyes screw shut, spread pussy struggling to be stuffed so full. at last when he bottoms out his hand comes under your chin to lightly force you to look up. you open your eyes immediately, finally looking at the sight before you. 

his cock is nestled neatly between your legs, the slight angle he’s sitting at making you able to see exactly where the two of you are connected. slowly, your eyes move up, admiring the messy drips of wax that still cling to your skin although they’ve hardened. with the blissed expression your sporting, you can understand why he looks so determined in the mirror. 

“so pretty,” he coos, running his hands up and down you, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “ready?”

“please, want you to fuck me.” you nod frantically, digging your fingers into the comforter to support yourself. 

his hands don’t leave your sides, settling back to grope your hips again. his knees spread between yours, forcing your legs a little wide, so he can squarely plant his feet before he starts to fuck up into you. 

the squelch of your bodies hitting sends your mind into another orbit and your eyes would have rolled back in your head had they not been fixed to where your cunt was creaming around him. the slick coated his thighs with every bounce, making a bigger and bigger mess as the minutes passed. 

in this moment, everything felt perfect and good. all of your stresses and anxieties gone - filled by thoughts of love and care and the feeling of being stuffed full and fucked well. you held onto the moment, burning it into your brain, never wanting it to end.  

[sapphicquill]

congrats on 100 followers friend <3 may I ask for anything with ler!Fjord bc the way you wrote teasing in your TAZ fic was so good? or lee!Lucretia during the Stolen Century arc being tickled out of her antisocial little shell if you're in a TAZ mood :) -Chock

Whoops. This is what happens when my whole life gets flipped upside down and I have to move cross-country back home out of no where! Sorry for the long wait, I'm finally making headway on these fics. I owe the entirety of this fic to @ticklishnonsense's honey-tongued because that’s the Ultimate Teasey Ler!Fjord fic and to @poesparakeet-fics for the plot because my smol brain could not come up with anything good and she gave me THE GOODS. Hope you enjoy, @chockfullofsecrets!

(ao3 link!)

Rating: Teen

Characters: Fjord, Caleb Widogast

Wordcount: 2423

After everything they’ve all been through, Fjord thinks he can handle most things. Spitting up salt water in the mornings, nearly getting impaled by strangers on a regular basis, Nott rifling through his shit—while he’d rather not deal with all of that bullshit, he can and that’s the important thing.

But the crushing weight of all the damn pining happening between Caleb and Essek might be the one thing Fjord absolutely cannot handle for any longer.

It had started innocently enough. Hands brushing and secret smiles and eyes briefly meeting before diverting, full of nerves and excitement and swirling butterflies. He’d experienced some of the same with Jester, but the two wizards were starting to get insufferable. It was painfully obvious to anyone in the room that they had a thing for one another, and even if it wasn’t, Fjord had overheard Caleb whining to Jester more than once about the entire situation, so it wasn’t like he was entirely oblivious to his own crush.

But apparently perpetually sad and stuffy wizards are really bad at just admitting what was right in front of their faces. Fjord’s worried that one of them might just explode soon, and that’s the entirely altruistic reasoning that finally inspires him to insert himself into the situation.

Caleb’s problem, Fjord thinks, is one of confidence. He gets too caught up in his own keen mind, tangling everything up in his head and overthinking and overanalyzing and panicking and deconstructing until everything’s just a jumbled mess of knots. He just needs a little push is all. A little something to nudge him past the trouble that is thinking and into acting. And Fjord thinks he knows a fairly good method of encouragement.

Thus, Fjord is currently standing in the doorway of the mansion library, trying not to reveal his presence too early. Caleb is folded over a desk with a pinched expression on his face that Fjord knows by now means he’s reached some sort of roadblock in whatever he was working on. In other words: a perfect time for an interruption.

“Productive afternoon?”

It’s a testament to how close the group has gotten that Caleb only sort-of flinches at the sudden sound of Fjord’s voice.

“Ah, nein, not really,” the wizard replies as he straightens up. His back makes an ominous cracking noise as he sits up and Fjord winces in sympathy.

“Gods, then maybe it’s time to take a break, hm?”

“Ja, a break…” Caleb trails off, eyes drifting back to the scattered parchment and books on the desk. Fjord resists the temptation to roll his eyes at the utterly predictability of their headstrong wizard.

“Okay, well now I’m making you take a break, Widogast,” he says as he marches swiftly over to Caleb and practically hauls him out of his chair. Caleb, unsurprisingly, goes willingly, letting himself be shuffled over to a nearby sofa.

With a huff, Caleb sits and begins massaging his temples, willing away either a physical ache or a swirling mass of snarled thoughts and ideas. Fjord lowers himself down next to the human and pretends like he isn’t thrilled over what he’s about to do.

A comfortable silence descends then. After a few more vigorous rubs, Caleb leans his head back against the leather of the sofa and closes his eyes and Fjord figures this is the best chance to spring the trap.

Quick as a slash of his falchion, Fjord twists from his spot next to Caleb and pulls him down into a horizontal position before caging the human in from above. He hovers over the now-prone wizard and tries not to feel too smug as Caleb yelps but doesn’t move an inch to try to wiggle away.

“Scheiße, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about something,” Fjord says casually as he can. Caleb gives him an exasperated look, complete with raised eyebrow and suspicious frown.

“And this ‘something’ requires you to pin me to a sofa?”

Fjord grins before scooping both of Caleb’s wrists up with one hand and pulling them above his head. Exasperation shifts quickly into a mix of disbelief, fear, and anticipation and Fjord is lucky that around his friends, Caleb wears his emotions very clearly on his face.

“Well,” the warlock starts, “I kind of figured that this particular topic would send you scampering off if I didn’t take some preventative measures.”

A fiery blush colors Caleb’s cheeks and Fjord tries not to laugh.

“And something tells me I thought correctly.”

Caleb makes a noise not unlike one Fjord’s heard from Frumpkin and finally starts to struggle lightly in his grasp, like his body is only now catching up with the rest of him. Fjord lets him, figuring that letting the wizard work himself into a bit of a tizzy will just make his own task easier. Caleb’s terribly predictable. As the human squirms minutely under him, Fjord lets his free hand curve subtly into a claw and hovers it just next to Caleb’s lower ribs.

“Now, see, I also think you might benefit from a little preemptive encouragement, because you’re the most stubborn fucker I’ve ever met when you have to talk about anything personal...”

Fjord trails off when he notices that Caleb’s eyes have locked onto his hand, mostly because he knows that the brilliant mage has connected all of the appropriate dots and will voice a protest in three, two—

“N-nein, Fjord, wait just a moment, there is no need for—”

Fjord slowly flutters his fingers, still poised a hair’s breadth from the stretched expanse of Caleb’s ribs, and Caleb cuts himself off with a hitched laugh-gasp, eyes wide as saucers.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to negotiate right now,” Fjord says, the edges of his voice tinged with a low growl as he keeps the motion of his fingers going. Caleb doesn’t really do much aside from grow ever so slightly redder in the face.

Without further preamble, Fjord finally moves his hand to meet Caleb’s torso. It’s like the wizard has been hit with a successful Thunderwave—his whole body jolts before tensing up so tightly he trembles. Continuing the fluttering from before, Fjord traces across the space between Caleb’s two lowest ribs and grins when Caleb lets out something between a giggle and a whine.

“Gods, you’re so easy to rile up, you know that?”

Caleb’s giggling picks up at Fjord’s words. He’d have pity on the wizard if it wasn’t so adorable. Still gently teasing at the softness of Caleb’s lower ribs, the half-orc leans forward until his mouth is right next to his victim’s ear.

“You’re just that ticklish, huh?”

Caleb thrashes, throwing his head from side to side so rapidly Fjord would be worried the human would hurt himself if he hadn’t watched this happen numerous times before. For good measure, he lets his fingers drift up Caleb’s ribs and lets out a small laugh himself as the giggles morph into airy, full-blown laughter. Exactly as planned.

“So you and Essek,” Fjord says casually as he straightens back up, pitching his voice a little louder to be heard over Caleb’s bubbly laughter. The wizard definitely seems to register his words if the cut-off gasp and even more desperate wiggles are any indication. Fjord laughs a little to himself at the adorable way Caleb scrunches his nose when the increased movement does little to deter his attack. Taking a little pity, Fjord pushes on, his free fingers swirling tight circles up and down Caleb’s right side.

“You know he likes you too, right?”

Fjord’s not exactly sure humans are supposed to turn that shade of red, but Jester’s got healing spells to spare right now, so he continues.

“And as amusing as it is watching you two dance around each other, it’s getting a bit old.”

“B-bitte, Fjord—!”

Caleb’s own laughter cuts off whatever plea was going to escape next. The wizard flops his head a bit side to side, like if he shakes enough he’ll clear Fjord’s words like trapped water from his ears. It’s downright precious and one hundred percent ineffective.

Adjusting his grip on Caleb’s wrists, Fjord lets his fingers trail up his captive’s ribs in the same slow pace he knows will drive Caleb up the damn wall. It’s a little impressive, actually, how easily this light tickling can take their resident wizard apart. Particularly useful at certain times. He can feel Caleb trembling under him, laughs high and desperate as the light tracing fingertips slowly migrate up to what both Jester and Molly affectionately refer to as his worst “death spots.”

“So, here’s my idea.”

His fingers flutter just below the space where his holsters normally are—fortunate Caleb feels comfortable and safe enough to remove them when at the house—and the wizard groans through his laughter.

“Either you promise that you’ll confess to Essek the next time he’s around, or I’ll just have to keep tickling you forever. How’s that sound?”

“Wh-aaat? Bitte, no, that is e-eehviil!”

“That’s kind of the point, bud,” Fjord replies around another laugh of his own. He floats his fingers up the scant few millimeters to the space between Caleb’s uppermost ribs without prompting and hopes that the wail the human lets out doesn’t worry the rest of the Nein. (It shouldn’t, not with the frequency Caleb makes noises like that.)

“I’m not letting up until you tell me the first words out of your mouth when you see Essek next are ‘Can we talk somewhere privately, Shadowhand?’” Fjord pitches his voice into a terrifically awful imitation of a Zemnian accent that has Caleb laughing, somehow, even harder. Though, on second thought, that might have more to do with the rapid little scribbles he’s got focused on the space above Caleb’s top rib than his attempt at accentwork.

Unsurprisingly, Caleb doesn’t say anything much in response, instead throwing all of his effort into laughing and squirming ineffectively. Fjord keeps a careful ear out for any hint of the safeword Jester had insisted everyone know about and respect upon pain of near-death, but the only thing coming out of Caleb is whimpered begging and a spray of foreign curses. Perfect.

Fjord takes a split second to send a silent apology to Jester, who will no doubt be massively upset she missed out on assisting Fjord with this bit of encouragement, but this was his game right now, dammit, and it was time to go for the kill.

(Would it be worth the inevitable tickling the blue tiefling would dish out later? Most definitely.)

“Alright, well, suit yourself, Widogast.”

With that, Fjord moves the tickling to Caleb’s exposed underarm and focuses the entirety of his attention on making the human melt.

With an impressive amount of core strength, Caleb attempts to jackknife in half to throw Fjord off. Fortunately, their wizard’s tricks are well known by now. Fjord barely budges as he keeps up the spidering under Caleb’s arm, letting his fingers trail just the slightest bit up the underside of Caleb’s bicep before reversing back down to the soft spot just above Caleb’s uppermost rib.

The fight drains out of the mage just as quickly as it revved up, leaving him loose and floppy and lost in the throws of his own cackling. Fjord would feel bad if he didn’t know how much Caleb was enjoying himself. Time to step things up a notch.

“You know how to get me to stop, Caleb. Do you really like the thought of me tickling you like this more than the idea of confessing to a crush you know is damn-well mutual? Really seems like it.”

More wailing, more thrashing, but still, no dice. Maybe a slightly different approach…

“Gods above, you’re just too ticklish for your own good, aren’t you?”

As always, Caleb responds viscerally to the mere word and that, of all things, seems to be the final straw.

“Scheiße, bitte! Habt mitleid! Ohhkay, I pr-promise!”

“You promise what?”

“Oh please, I caa-aan’t—!”

Fjord shifts from light tracing along Caleb’s top ribs to a solid press of his palm, steadying the human as his laughter slowly eases up. After a few gulps of air, Caleb continues.

“I will tell Essek how I truly feel when we next encounter him, I swear to you!”

“You’re absolutely promising me you’ll spill about your deep, undying love for Essek Thelyss the very moment he’s within twenty yards of you?” Fjord taunts, curling his fingers back into a claw at Caleb’s right side. The human tenses and anticipatory giggles start bubbling from him almost instantly.

“Ja, ja, I a-ahh-m!”

“Good!” Fjord says brightly, pulling his hand away from Caleb’s squirming form. He smiles down at Caleb, who looks about ready to protest the large hand still pining his wrists to the sofa, before lowering himself to speak directly into the wizard’s ear.

“And maybe after you two have worked everything out, I’ll have a little chat with Essek myself about how much you like this particular method of torture.”

Caleb looks a bit like he’s swallowed a toad.

“F-fjord, mein Gott, wait—”

“I’m sure Molly and Jester would be more than happy to help me tell him all of the best ways to tickle you senseless, hmm? They’re tieflings, you know how honest they get when tickling comes up. They’ll just gush about how much you love it when we wreck you until you can’t remember your own name.”

He isn’t even tickling him anymore, but Caleb is giggling, light and bubbly and tortured, all from Fjord’s teasing alone.

“Hell, maybe we’ll all get you the next time Essek comes by the tower. How’d you like that, him watching you get tickled by every single one of us until you cry and knowing you love every minute of it?”

Caleb’s just babbling in Zemnian through his laughter, eyes squeezed shut and a grin pulling wide at his lips.

“D’you think he’d join in if we asked him to?”

Caleb just keeps laughing. Fjord grins. Mission successful.