#I had to toss like half a loaf of bread :(

[e77y]

Everything bagel BLT cures all ❤️

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Zuko has been with the gang for a while now and you've been able to teach him how to do most any chore. He can set up tents, bathe Appa and even dry clothes off without lighting them on fire (it happened a couple times tho). But the one thing he just can't get is cooking.

He stands beside you as you lower a pot over the fire gently, his eyebrows knitted. He watches as you angle it so there's no chance of it falling as it small bubbles appear; signaling its commence of boiling. You sit down on a flat stone and take out a small knife, gesturing a c'mere motion with the blade.

"Can you hand me the tomatoes?" He grabs them and passes them over, ears flushing when your hand brushes his.

"You're going to boil them?" You giggle and shake your head.

"No, this is for the broth and the beef. Everybody has been craving it but Aang is a vegetarian, remember?"

He nods and pops a squat next to you on a large rock. Your ankles touch and his toes flex. "You're making him something separate." You agreed with a hum and begin to slice the fruit over a bowl in your lap.

"That's nice of you." You glance up briefly and give him a sheepish grin. He finds it endearing.

As you focus your attention back to the task at hand, Zuko wonders what he should say next. Before he can really consider it, you toss a piece of tomato at Momo and ask, "Your uncle makes tea right?"

"Uh, yeah. Uncle loves tea."

"How come you haven't learned how to?"

He doesn't want to admit that he didn't pay attention when he should've, when he had time to notice how Iroh did it. "I wasn't taught."

"Do you want me to teach you?" You look up and pause your slicing. The bowl has a small stack of tomato piled inside that tumbles when you shake it.

"I'm not very good at uh.. making things." You snicker, remembering when he burned lettuce a couple weeks ago.

"Yeah, I noticed," You smile to let him know you're teasing and he returns it a little shyer. "I could, though. Teach you. You don't have to be good at it."

"What's the point of teaching me if I'm not good at it?"

"I like spending time with you." You shrug and reach for an avocado across him. Your arm is just too short and he takes the opportunity to grab it for you, turning his head so you don't see his blush. "And you'd get the hang of it, tea is like.. your birthright."

Zuko chuckles. He always thought his birthright was violence. He wonders if it still is. He doesn't say that. "Because Uncle owned a tea shop?"

"Yeah," You laugh, "And you can use your fire bending, yunno? But I'm not sure if you have the patience for it."

"Why's that?" Suddenly Sokka is next to him, holding a pile of sticks and asking you where you want them. You point next to the fire and notice the water jumping in the pot. Standing up, you motion for the broth ingredients and Zuko hands you the pre-mixed bowl. Sokka is quickly distracted by Toph demanding to know where Aang went and Zuko turns back to you.

The crackle of the fire comforts the atmosphere as the sun sets, giving your face an orange hue that dances dramatically from your chin to your nose. You tuck a piece of hair away and Zuko can see the way your eyes glitter in the soft glow, your pupils swallowing the color of their rims.

It's silent for a bit, Zuko simply watching as you stir the pot and occasionally call out for Sokka and Toph to stop arguing. You set down the ladle and pick up a bowl of assorted vegetables and fruits, passing it to Zuko.

"Can you find that bread from the village? I think it's in Katara's bag?" He disappears to rummage and returns holding a half-eaten loaf.

"Okay, that should be enough," You remark as you turn away from cooking and towards his returning figure. You make eye contact with him and your nose wrinkles in the moonlight as you smile, "Can you cut that in half and make a sandwich?"

He sits down and follows your instructions, first wiping the knife you'd used earlier before slipping it in the loaf and beginning to separate it. His dominant hand slices down as he keeps it steady in the other and as he gets to the end, he takes his chance to look at you.

Your feet are bare on the ground, a little dirty and as you shift from side to side, your heels lift enough he can see your bridges. A daffodil is stuck to the bottom of your left foot, staring at him before being engulfed in a step again. You move around the pot, pushing the ingredients stuck to the side back in the middle and the flower is left upside down on a rock.

His finger burns in pain and he notices a small cut. He had finished slicing the bread and had dug into his hand. Cursing, he sets aside your assignment and stands up holding his hand as blood flows slowly. You notice immediately and rush over. You bend down and rip a bit of your skirt, wrapping it around his hand and shushing him back down onto the rock again.

"It's not too deep, you should be okay." He nods, hissing as the fabric rubs the sensitive flesh. "It hurts?"

"Yeah." You press his hand towards you, checking it again and clutching it from the palm.

"You can go back to cooking." You look up at him confused and he continues, "It might burn."

"It's fine, it needs to marinate. You need my attention more."

The firelight covers the furious burning of his face, "Are you sure? It's a small cut."

Your expression is hard to see in the dark but the coy fluttering of your features is obvious enough. You're nervous, and a shade darker on your cheeks and oh, you're blushing too.

"I care about you." You murmur and it's a blessing he hears it.

"I- I care about you too," He offers, the urge to look away would be worse if you weren't already doing that. He watches the twitch of your nose as your smile takes your lips again. You meet his gaze and he realizes how close you are. He feels your hot breath on his face and leans in just a bit more. "You look really... really pretty."

Your eyes crinkle in the corners as your mouth spreads wider and reveals your teeth, dimples making his heart flutter as he confesses, "You're glowing. The- the fire makes you glow."

You digest his words with a gentle laugh covered by your hand. "Yeah," You pause and quirk your head to the side, "You do."

He wants to faint and of course he doesn't know what to say. You help him out again and suddenly your nose is brushing his. "You like me?"

He nods because he's not sure he can speak without squeaking.

"I like you too.." Your words are felt on his lips as you get even closer. Your eyes dart across his face, seemingly checking for affirmation before your mouth is on his and all the blood rushes to his head. His hand comes up to hold your head as he kisses you back. For a second, it's so amazing as you lick across his bottom lip until pain is shooting up his hand and he has to pull away.

Your hair had brushed his still open cut and he cradled his hand a little closer to himself as you re-examine it. "Sorry.."

Zuko looks at you like you're crazy, "Don't be sorry."

You glance up and away, still flustered.

"I've liked you for so long," His admission fills the night wind and you prompt him to continue with wide eyes. He's a little quieter as he finishes with, "Since Ba Sing Se."

He misses your voice dearly as he waits for your answer. He gets it in the form of giggles ticklish as butterflies. He watches you with curiosity until you say, "I was wrong, you are patient."

He laughs too now and you both shake beside the fire with hands holding bellies. The spurt of broth leaping out of the pot brings you back and you scramble up to stir it. Zuko watches as you step over the daffodil again and it flips upright, showing him that it was two, smushed so closely it looked like one. He looks up at you in admiration as you taste the stew and feels a surge of affection for whatever luck landed him at your side tonight.

"You were wrong too," His face contorts in confusion and you elaborate, "You're good at making things... you made me like you."

He's the luckiest guy in the fire nation. He goes to tell you but you speak first. "And I want to teach you how to make tea, but I think I should let Iroh. When we find him."

Zuko's left with a mouth hanging open and a heart stuck between missing his Uncle and loving you for all your kindness and thoughtful nature. He settles on both. "I don't know if he'll forgive me."

You make a strange face as you gaze at him over the open flame, it looks intense in the orange heat. "You don't give his love for you enough credit."

Then you're coming over and pecking him on the cheek, making him dizzy again. You bring your lips to his ear and whisper "I think he'll do anything if you let him teach you to make tea."

His smile is warm and flustered when you teasingly add, "I would, and I like you a little bit less than he does."

[dyli-dadi3]

Knotting

Chris thought you two were the bestest of buds, two peas in a pod... Well, he isn't technically wrong... there is a p in a pod...

Tags: smut (p in v), knotting, mating, riding, hybrid animals (both puppies), mounting, getting caught.

Ever since that shit with Wesker and Jill back in Africa, Chris hasn’t been able to relax. He tosses and turns at night, plagued with the face of Jill, of all the citizens he had to kill just because they were robbed of their humanity. The whole debacle had left him feeling incredibly lonely and filled with the overwhelming sensation that he was never fully alone. Every time he closed his eyes, even for a second, it was like he was in Africa all over again. It got to the point where his coworkers had noticed.

—

“Hey, Chris, you’ve been acting off, lately. " One late night, a guy in HR spoke up when he decided to stay and mess with the thick stack of paperwork that was growing on his desk. 

“Really?” Chris mumbled the words, more interested in the hissing of the coffee machine that was currently spewing out the liquid gold he needed. The sound was familiar to him, something that wasn’t the screams of pain and despair that he also got familiar with.

“Yeah, it’s like you’ve been distancing yourself. It’s making your paperwork late.” The little shit huffed, crossing his arms. 

Of course, he didn’t care about him, he was just there to ensure his performance was running at full speed. Not like he expected anything else, that’s why he never really talked to the guy. He just partook in the mandatory check-ins to say what is going good and bad in management, only for nothing to be changed because it isn’t “important.” He learned pretty quickly that the BSAA was good for one thing and one thing only, fighting bioterrorism. As long as there was some new monstrosity to humans running amok, their agent’s mental health could wait. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Chris muttered, grabbing the steaming pot of instant coffee and poring it into his mug that was printed with the BSAA logo. 

“You know, I think you’re due for some company,” The guy said thoughtfully. What was his actual name again? Todd? Tom? I think it was Tom…

“How I spend my very limited free time isn’t your problem,” Chris said flatly, finally looking up at Tom. “And besides, I don’t have time to foster a new relationship.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about that,” Tim said, smiling at him like it was some kind of joke. 

I don’t have the time or patience for this.

“I’m thinking like a pet or something. Animals have been used for therapy forever. I think you need something to soften up that rough exterior of yours.” Ted chuckled, bringing his hand up to shove Chris’ shoulder. He just took a step back.

“…”

“If I can’t deal with a relationship, what makes you think that I can take care of a whole other life?” Chris huffed to save the man some embarrassment. Man, this guy was denser than that loaf of banana bread he tried to make for Jill when she joined S.T.A.R.S. with him.

“Geez, man, are you dense? I swear you live under a rock…” Timmy sighed.

Are you serious…?

“Haven’t you heard? Those new ‘hybrid’ things are all the craze right now.” If they’re being described as things, it can’t be good. “They’re humans, but animals.”

Chris raised his eyebrow at this. “First of all, how is that even possible? And second, why hasn’t the BSAA or government in general shut that down?”

“Well, the guy who was originally splicing all that DNA was arrested, but they couldn’t just kill the little fellows he made, so they put them up for sale. Not everyone could care for their new pet slash human baby, so some got loose and bred like rabbits. They’re everywhere now. Are you seriously telling me you haven’t seen one yet? News? Alley? Other friends?” Billy said.

Chris paused. “You’re telling me that there’s half animal, half-human creatures walking around the city?” The image in his mind was horrific.

“Yeah, they’re kind of cute, cute like a kid and a puppy at the same time,” Ben said with a smile. “But anyways,  brought it up ‘cause I think you’d do good with one. They’re easier to train than animals and can do all the same things we can, so you won’t feel bad for leaving them when you’re out doing that bioterrorism stuff. Brady has one.” 

“Who?” He knew a Brad once.

“...Brady? He sits right across from you.” Oh right, toupe. “Right, it’s just late,” Chris said, taking a sip of his coffee so he could at least try to properly wrap his mind around the bombshell Bill just dropped on him.

“Yeah, he says she’s the best thing to ever happen to him. But don’t tell his wife he said that.” 

Chris let out a dry chuckle, his mind moving on from the papers he had to do. Maybe he could look up these ‘hybrids’ once he got off of work.

“I’ll think about it.” He said before leaving Ben at the coffee machine.

—

It took way less effort than he expected, the papers quickly being filled out since he was getting more and more eager to find out what these hybrids looked like. If Toupe and Bennie thought they were good, as well as everyone else, they couldn’t be that ugly.

Before he knew it, Chris was sitting at his desk, the word ‘Hybrid’ typed up on his monitor. His finger governs over the enter button. Despite all the admittedly cute descriptions, he still couldn’t shake off the fear that they were just the same as all the bioengineered organisms he fought against. He���s killed his fair share of zombie dogs.

Forgetting the zombie dogs, he had always wanted a regular dog. So he amended his search, changing it to ‘Dog Hybrid’ and hit enter. 

The results were instantaneous, and he had to admit, they were pretty cute. The ones on the top of Google had round faces, chubby cheeks, bright eyes, floppy ears, and bushy tails. He then looked at maintenance. There was already an abundance of forums describing how to take care of them, what to expect depending on the type of species they derived from, and just some silly stories people wanted to share.

He was sold, and before he knew it, he had made an appointment to a shelter that houses hybrids to see if he could find one.

Of course, he always thought of having a tough-looking dog, big and fluffy. What he didn’t expect was to walk up to the front door and be greeted with two pups playfighting in the small enclosure just past the glass display. When he walked in, they both turned to look at him, yipping with pure energy.

He turned his back to them to greet the front lady who had been looking at him. “I’m here for a consultation? Last name Redfield.” 

The lady smiled, walking to the little gate on the side of her to let him in. “Just go down the hall and to the left, there’s a lady there that will help you from there.”

The lady she talked about was very sweet. She didn’t stare at him too long, or ask about his dark eyebags, or even the fact that he didn’t have unstained clothes to wear. She just asked him how much maintenance he was willing to expend for caretaking, as well as some personality inquiries. She said it was to ��match him to the perfect pup,” since they only housed dogs.

With that, he was led through so many isles of dog-human things that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Despite the tempting allure of a companion to have when he came back home, it was all a spur-of-the-moment thing. He had yet to accommodate another living being in his house, and the thought of leaving a senior hybrid or puppy alone for long periods was beginning to weigh on his heart all over again.

—

“He was cute!” You said happily, flopping onto Leon’s side. “Imagine what it would be like to be adopted by him.”

It was a pastime for the two of you to look at the people who walked past and theorize about their lives, about what it would be like to be chosen by them. 

“I don’t know, he looks like he could crush my head with his bicep.” Leon grimaced, holding his head.

“Oh, but that’s the fun part!” You giggled, pressing your face to his side as your tail wags behind you. 

“I guess he looked interested.” Leon smiled, pouncing on you to nip at your neck. You squealed, trying to kick him off of you as he tried to pin you down. “Leon, that tickles!” You tried to catch your breath when he finally pulled away to sit down on the padded floor of the display case. “But that’s the fun part!” He said with a mockingly high-pitched tone as he smirked.

You huffed, jumping on top of him as you tried to repay the favor.

—

“I’m sorry, none of them called out to me,” Chris said, walking back to the front as he tried to ignore the pitiful looks of the hybrids he left behind him. Man, this was a bad idea.

“No worries, I’m glad you don’t feel the need to force yourself, we get a lot of people who fold, only to return them weeks later saying that they couldn’t deal with it.” The lady smiled, waving goodbye as Chris entered the front of the shelter again. 

He tried to ignore the way the two of you immediately stopped playing to lean up against the barrier of your enclosure. Both of your tails wagged, and he tried to push out the sound of “He didn’t get anyone! Do you think he came back for us?” coming from your sweet mouth. 

God, this was a bad idea.

“Are the ones in the front available?” He found himself asking the first lady. “Those two?” He awkwardly pointed at the two pups that were climbing over each other now that he specifically pointed them out. 

“I knew it!”

“We’re free!”

“Of course! They sure are the energetic type… Are you sure you’ll be able to handle them?” The lady said softly. He couldn’t blame her, he had answered her caregiving question with low maintenance.

“Don’t listen to her! We’re well-behaved!”

“Yeah! We’re so good!”

“I’m positive that we’ll be fine.” Chris smiled. No, I’m not, but I can’t say no to those cute faces…

“Well then, just sign these papers right right here for adoption, and then they’re all yours.” The lady smiled, reaching underneath her desk to produce two packets of papers. On the top of each of them were your names. The handwriting was messy, but the glitter pen used on yours made him realize that the two of you signed your names yourselves. The realization was heartwarming, and with the revelation, he could see the personality woven into the childish signatures. This was going to end up great.

—

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

God, he couldn’t have been more wrong. The two of you were endless bounds of energy, like two Tasmanian devils living in his flat. He had thought that the two of you were more human than dog, able to have self-control and discipline like Benjamin had said, but he quickly realized that he adopted two puppies that took a liking to chewing up all the shit in his house no matter how many times he said no. 

But he was a man, a stubborn one at that, and he was determined to give the two of you a forever home.

He’s had to put child-proofing on almost all of his furniture and cabinets so that you two didn’t get into his stuff or shred the legs of all his furniture to shit. Eventually, he had to go back to work, where he’d look the two of you in the eye and say “Be good” like a disapproving father before leaving. No matter what was happening at work, his mind was preoccupied with all the things the two of you could be getting up to. He was starting to think of getting a sitter.

When he came home, his blood ran cold. Pained whimpering. Did somebody get hurt? Was someone in danger? 

He rushed into his house, finding the source of his sudden anxiety spark. You. His jaw grew slack as he saw you straddling Leon’s thigh, the poor pup fast asleep as you rutted against him. “Hey!” He gasped, grabbing your arm and pulling you off of him. “No! That’s bad!” He admonished you, his ears aflame as he watched you whine and squirm in his grasp. He didn’t know what to do, and he would rather go back to Africa than see that again.

“N-No, feels good! I feel funny, and it helps.” You huffed, kicking your legs. 

All the ruckus woke up Leon, his eyes fluttering open as his pupils focused on your whining form. “Huh?” He said softly, sniffing the air and leaning in closer. “Dad… She smells sweet, what’s wrong?” he said thoughtfully, bringing his nose to her crotch and sniffing. 

Oh god. “First of all, I told you, I’m not your Dad. Secondly, you need to back up. She’s…sick.” He said tentatively, not wanting to even think about what she’s feeling right now. “Sick?” You said softly, looking up at him with big eyes and a tail between your legs. 

“You’ll be fine; you just need to stay in your room for a bit to cool off; it’ll feel better.” Maybe if she stays alone for a bit, she won’t go into a full-blown heat… 

—

That didn’t work. 

You were fine for a bit, cooling down and reporting that the feeling in your tummy went away, but as soon as he brought you to the same room as Leon, you’d complain all over again. He didn’t know what to do, he read about this, but he supposed that it was his fault for not asking more questions about the… condition the two of you were in. Well, he guessed that he should have asked way more questions.

But these were the cards he was dealt, and he couldn’t keep an eye on you forever, so he left work today with a very serious talk to Leon. “Don’t let her touch you, no matter how much she begs. And if you want to nap, please sleep in your room. Alone.” 

Simple, precise, and direct. Of course, he had already told you about what was happening. That it was completely normal, but that it needed to be controlled. He just hoped that you wouldn’t have to suffer for so long. He was already looking up vets to have you spayed.

—

“Dad said we can’t!” Leon sighed, trying to keep his distance as your sickeningly sweet scent saturated the air around him. He could practically see the way it colored the atmosphere. All pink and flowery and like candy. It made his head spin and cock twitch. Wait, that was new. “But it hurts, Leon! I’m all hot and achey and it’s the only thing that makes me feel better. Don’t you wanna make me feel good?” You pouted, walking closer to him again. Only this time, he didn’t take a step back.

“We’ll be quick, he won’t even know! Dad said it’s normal!” You argued your case, coming in closer and closer. 

“I suppose… You do feel sick.” Leon sighed, sitting down on the couch. You immediately crawled into his lap, whimpering as you pressed your slicked-up pussy against his thigh, the wetness permeating through the pair of soft shorts you wore. Leon groaned, the smell of your arousal making him feel dizzy but good at the same time. “Maybe this isn’t so bad…” He said as you rutted against his thigh. “D-Do you need anything?” He asked, hands hovering over your hips. “You. Oh my god, you smell so good, Leon.” You groaned, burying your nose into his neck and inhaling. 

Leon had no idea what was going on, only that you were sick and maybe he was getting sick, too. His skin felt feverish, and now there was a throbbing in his pants that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. He was drawn to the scent, not like he needed to be pulled, you were drowning him in it. Choking him with your intoxicating scent that made his hips buck and his mouth water. He knew he should be stopping this before it got too far, but the voice in his head was screaming more, more, more! He groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight hug, pulling you in closer to rut against his erection. 

“Oh god, yes, Leon!” You sobbed, unsure whether to continue indulging in the pleasure of the now or try and soothe the ache deep inside of you. But you had to, the throbbing was borderline painful.

You slipped out of your shorts, tugging his cock out of his sweats. You didn’t know how, but it was like you knew that this was what you needed, the voice in your head yipping in glee. You paused when Leon whimpered, his hips jerking, jolting you up with him. “That feels good, too?” You asked. 

“Yeah, feels good…” He whined, gripping the fat of your hips. Never in his life has he felt this good, like putting ice on a burn, eating watermelon in the hot summer heat, or eating a sandwich after getting out of the pool. All the static in his brain cleared, and all that was left was the overwhelming urge to do something with you. He didn’t know what, but he felt like this was as close as it was going to get.

God, was he wrong. There was something better, and it was called ‘being deep inside your best friend as she bounced on your lap like a professional pogo stick rider.’

He was cussing like a sailor as you engulfed him, everything coming full circle as he realized that this was what he was meant to do for the rest of his life. Nothing else he would ever do would compare. He was sure of it. Your pussy was like a godsend and he couldn’t get enough. He tightened his grip, snapping his hips up into your sopping heat as he pulled you down, trying to get as deep as possible. It wasn’t enough, there was a missing piece. 

You were a trembling mess, clenching around him and making him whine as he tried to go faster, feeling a ball of something wind up in his chest. “O-Oh my god, Leon, I-I feel something.” You gasped as he groaned, shoving the both of you to the ground as he mounted you. He pushed you into the ground as he arched your back, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace as his voice grew higher and whinier. “M-Me, too. Wan’it.” He whimpered, moving faster, until he nearly screamed, your pussy clamping down on him as you came. He didn't stop, couldn't stop, the need to fuck you overwhelming. But he didn't last much longer. In just moments, he was cumming ropes and ropes of thick cum into your pussy. The whole thing was overstimulating and honestly a little terrifying. All of the dizziness went away, there wasn't a trace of static, nor was there a voice begging for more. He suddenly felt complete, and that was alarming, not to mention the fact that his dick was swelling inside of you. “H-Hey, are you okay?” He said in alarm. Despite your moans, the feeling of stretching your pussy like this made him nervous.

“So good… Feel so much better…” You mumbled into the hardwood, eyes droopy and body like putty. “That's good…” Leon murmured, finally relaxing with your confirmation and tugging you with him as he flopped to the side, spooning you. He stayed still, his body automatically knowing the process. It was as if he was on autopilot. The thought made him chuckle. He was made to please you.

—

Chris dropped all his things at the front door when he saw the two of you fast asleep.

“Shit!”

I love puppy Leon so much it's not even funny. Trust that he will be back for more.

[taelophone]

Fresh Linen૮ ․ ․ ྀིა₊⊹

Joost Klein x Reader! TWs: RPF, the softest romance ever!! I made Joost after lucky blue lol W/C: 3,604! A/N: Reader is implied to be something other than white, but its not major. + Some music I found that really matches the vibe methinks!! <3

When Joost first garnered fame, he could never imagine slowing down anytime soon. He was like a rolling boulder ; starting off slow and inexperienced with his rough, jagged edges. But now he’s been rolling for years, refining himself into a smooth stone down the hill.

He said all his life that he had a pretty good idea of things he liked and didn’t like. Kids, cats, feet, all of those icky things.

But here he was, slouched in an ivory arm chair as he brushed his daughter, Adessa’s hair. His life had managed to compress itself down into a tiny, squirming little baby and rest itself on his knees.

You smiled to yourself, lying down on the couch opposite of Joost as you watched him experience pure unbridled adoration. “You’re gonna look sooooooo pretty, Dessie!” He cooed, gently working the bristles of the brush through the long, chocolate brown curls.

He took his time, gently working his fingers through the soft hair before using two blue rubber bands to tie it into two sleek twin pigtails. He fluffed her hair out a little, smiling eagerly as Adessa giggled, clearly excited to see how her hair turned out. 

You loved seeing Joost dote on your baby girl. When you first started dating, he was very firm about not wanting any type of children. But Adessa managed to have him wrapped around her little finger.

“Daddy, why do I have to brush my hair?” Adessa asked, squirming around slightly as Joost struggled to tie the little lace bows around each pigtail.

“So it won’t get all tangled and messy.” He hummed, gently tying the last bow.

You smiled, watching as Adessa began to ramble Joost’s ears off with her little voice. Joost seemed to cling to every single word, leaning forward in his chair and placing his hands on his knees as he nodded. “Ja, natuurlijk.”

“I’m gonna make some bread, do you two wanna help?” You offered, standing up from the couch. “We haveeee...4 hours before we head to the park, so that’s enough time to make a loaf and lunch.” You smiled.

“Yes, I can help!” Joost smiled, standing up slowly from the arm chair as to not knock Adessa off of his knees. “Des, wil je brood maken?” Joost asked, scooping Adessa up from under her shoulders and tossing her up in the air.

Adessa shrieked and giggled, eagerly lifting her arms up as she nodded. “Ja! I wanna help mommy!” She beamed.

You smiled, making your way into the cozy little kitchen, Joost following behind you with Adessa in his arms. You got everything you’d need to make your bread and laid it out on the counter in front of the window.

Joost sat Adessa down on the kitchen counter, leaning against it as well as he watched you set everything up to make sure it would take as little time as possible. 

“I’m…not a good cook.” He chuckled, grabbing the measuring cups and spoons for you in a heartbeat.

“I know, Joost. That’s why I said help.” You giggled, setting the large bowl next to Adessa, who kicked her little legs back and forth off the counter.

“Alright, Dessa! I’m gonna let you pour the dry ingredients in the bowl and mix, okay?” You murmured, filling each measuring cup with its corresponding dry ingredients, and handing them to Adessa one by one.

You supervised her carefully, admiring her with a soft smile as she carefully added the flour, sugar, salt, and dry yeast to the bowl.

“Do I mix now?” She asked, staring up at you with her electric blue eyes. She was such a cute girl, with those beautiful pools of blue she had inherited from her dad. But of course, you could see yourself in her face as well.

“Yep! Daddy’s gonna help me add the water, and then we can all knead the dough together!” You explained, handing Joost the one cup, and half cup measuring cups.

“Could you fill these with warm water, my love?” You smiled, turning your head to face him.

He nodded, taking the cups from your hands and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Yes, baby.” He hummed, filling the cups with warm water and adding them to the bowl of dry ingredients.

“Alright, you two,” you began, stepping in front of Joost as you picked up the silicone scraping spatula, scraping the dry ingredients off the sides of the bowl. 

“There’s a certain way to mix bread. You don’t just go in an aggressive circle,” you showed, aggressively mixing the flour and water together. “Nah. You kind of like…fold it in. Stay from the bottom, and bring in to the top til’ it’s all combined.” You nodded.

“I wanna try!” Adessa gasped, immediately grinning ear to ear as she clasped her hands together in wonder.

“Of course you can!” You smiled, sliding the bowl over to her and handing her the spatula.

She did her best to mix, trying to copy the motions you showed her earlier as her brows furrowed in concentration.

You smiled, placing your hand over Joost’s as he leaned down, leaning his head on your shoulder and placed his hands on your hips.

“I love you.” He murmured, pecking the side of your head.

You smiled, leaning your head against his lovingly. “I love you too.” You hummed, holding his hand gently.

You chattered away with Joost and Adessa, finishing up with mixing the dough before dusting the counter with flour and tranferring the slightly sticky dough onto the powdered, sleek, and wooden surface.

“Alright, cover your hands in flour, and then you kinda just…knead it. Don’t be too hard, but don’t be scared of it.” You explained, kneading the dough gently.

You let Adessa try, letting her smack and poke the dough while she snickered and chuckled.

“Joost, roll up your sleeves and knead this for me please.” You requested, watching as Adessa hopped off the counter to go play her iPad. 

He nodded, reluctantly pulling himself away from you and rolling up the sleeves on his white collared shirt. “How do I do it again…” he snickered. “Show me.”

You sighed, smiling softly as you pushed him aside gently with your hip. “Like this,” you instructed, kneading the dough again.

He nodded, shifting behind you again and placing his hands over yours, kneading the dough with you as he hummed quietly to himself.

You kept going until the dough was smooth and matte, grabbing the little baking tin and slotting it into the pan and scoring a little heart into the surface.

“All done!” You smiled, holding up the pan to get a better look.

“You want any herbs on the top, baby?” You asked, craning your head upwards so you could look at him.

He brushed his hands off with the kitchen towel before placing them on the counter on either side of you. “Maybe some sage and rosemary.” He smiled, nodding subtly.

You nodded, slowly pulling away from him to find the sage and rosemary, plucking them from the fridge. You gently sprinkled the herbs on top of the bread before drizzling a little bit of olive oil on top and sprinkling a bit of black pepper as well.

“Put this in the oven for me?” You smiled, handing him the pan. 

He smiled, taking the pan from your hands and walking over to the already preheated oven. He swung open the oven door, wincing slightly at the gust of heat before gently sliding it onto the bottom of the rack.

“There you go, babe.” He smiled, his cheeks going a rosy pink from simply gazing in your direction. “I’ll go get Dessa dressed, and you can do whatever you want.” He smiled, whisking his way over to you, placing a kiss on your cheek and making his way to Adessa in the living room.

You smiled, feeling your sensitive little heart clench and vibrate at how he loved you so gently. Ever since you met Joost, he treated you like the most precious of gems. He wanted to make things easy for you; to dote on and pamper you like you were his most prized possession.

In Joost’s eyes, you and Adessa were his heart walking around outside of his body. When humans first thought of the word love, they described it as an attempt feeling of deep affection. But when Joost thought of love, he thought of laying down with you and Dess, listening to your soft snores as time passed you by second after second.

It was those painfully slow days that reminded him that love has no time limit. Even when he was long gone and miles underneath the earths crust, his spirit would make sure the sun kept shining and the earth kept spinning for his baby girl.

You used the time Joost gave you to prep a small breakfast and pack a little snack bag for Adessa, knowing she would ultimately be hungry after playing in the park. After you finished that task, you tugged your sleeves down on your sweater, fixing your  jeans and leaning against the counter to have a sparkling water.

Joost and Adessa emerged mere minutes later, with your daughter now in a blue and white gingham dress and frilly white socks and cute little Mary Jane’s.

“Mommy, look!” She beamed, running up to you eagerly to show off her outfit. She did a fast little spin, grinning from ear to ear as she gazed up at you for approval.

You gasped, making sure to set down your can before kneeling down to be eye level with her. “You look so pretty, Dessa!” You cooed, giving her a big hug and peppering her face with kisses.

She giggled uncontrollably, trying to push your face away and squirming away from your love attack. 

You sat her back down, giving her one last kiss before patting her head gently. “Daddy did a great job.” You nodded, looking over at Joost and smiling.

He nodded back at you, giving you a thumbs up and blowing you a brief kiss.

What a cute nerd.

You stood up, standing in the kitchen and watching as Joost walked over towards you.

“I made you guys a little charcuterie board.” You smiled, gently wrapping your arms around Joost’s neck as he held your waist and gazed into your eyes.

“Oh thank you, mijn liefste!” He smiled, turning his head briefly to munch on some blueberries. “You’re so sweet, I don’t deserve you.” He mumbled, resting his head on yours.

“Not true!” You fake-gasped. “You’re the best, too.”

“…we the best music..” he whispered, immediately giggling after. 

“Bye.” You giggled, moving to walk away from him, only for him to pull you back gently.

“No, dance with me.” He pouted, swaying with you slowly in the kitchen.

“You’re so corny!” You giggled, swaying with him as well.

“People are afraid to be corny, but I was born on the cob.” He recited, chuckling in your ear. You could really see where Adessa got her laugh from whenever Joost giggled. You recognized that ‘hehehe’ anywhere.

“Daddy?” A little voice asked, Adessa staring up at you with her big round eyes.

“Yes, little one?” He hummed, still swaying with you as he glanced at Adessa.

“Are you and mommy in loooove?” She asked, leaning forward and smiling at the two of you.

“Of course! I’d move planets for your mama.” He nodded.

You snickered, smiling just a little harder at his shameless admission.

“And I would for you, too.” Joost smiled.

Adessa nodded, clinging onto Joost’s leg as she giggled. She couldn’t understand slow dancing, but she wanted to be included in anything her parents did. So she danced along with the two of you, eagerly twirling around beside you.

You smiled, watching her with nothing but love. 

“Jojo?” You hummed, resting your hands on either side of his neck gently.

“Ja?” He smiled.

“You wanna watch a movie after we take Dess to the park?” You muttered, pecking his neck gently.

He smiled, stopping in the middle of the kitchen floor before walking you back into the counter and setting you down on top of the smooth wood. 

“Of course.” He smiled, resting his head on your shoulder.

You stayed together in the kitchen for an hour or two, chatting away with each other happily about anything and everything until the oven dinged, prompting Joost to remove the fresh loaf with your pink little oven mitts.

“The bread is finished!” He smiled, placing it on the table.

“Great! Thanks.” You cheered, hopping off the counter to stare at the loaf. You fought off both Adessa and Joost, desperately trying to explain that the bread needs to cool before you cut or eat it.

“Mommy it’s ok, the bread won’t know!” Adessa grinned, standing on her tip toes in an attempt to see above the counter. Joost scooped her up, setting her down on the counter beside him as he admired the fresh baked loaf as well.

“It looks very good! Good job.” He praised, giving Adessa an approving high five. She nodded firmly, crossing her arms at her job well done before suddenly gasping.

“Mommy helped, too! Say good job to mommy!” She squeaked, pointing a finger at you.

He giggled, turning over to you and smiling.

“Thank youuu, amazing beautiful great gorgeous fiancée!” He beamed. 

“You’re welcome!” You chirped, kissing his cheek. “Alright, we can head to the park while that cools.” You nodded, heading into the living room to slide on your shoes and grab your keys.

Adessa followed behind, smiling happily as she toddled behind you, grabbing onto your fingers as she followed you out the door.

“Kom op, papa!” She called, turning her head around to pout at Joost, who was tying his shoes.

“Yeah, hurry up grandpa!” You teased, putting your hand on your hip. “You’d really make a child wait to go play at the park?” You snickered, watching as Adessa mirrored your pose.

Joost looked up, raising an eyebrow at the two of you as the picture finally panned out. He saw just how alike you and Adessa were, and suddenly all the noise in his head stopped. He was happy where he was, and couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Hold on, I’m done I’m done!” He giggled, stumbling out the door behind the both of you and closing the door.

“You got some flour on your nose.” You chuckled. “Coke allegations pending.” You whispered, motioning to the upper bridge of his nose.

He laughed, quickly clearing the flour away from his face.

“I’m not Charli.” He giggled, following behind you and Adessa closely.

“Are you sure? You seem to be bumpin’ that…” you joked.

“Nee, nee nee nee! I’m not.” He giggled.

You walked in the warm sunlight towards the park, taking steady breaths of fresh air as you admired the beautiful scenery.

The Netherlands was a bit of a change from the atmosphere you grew up with, but more grass was definitely a plus.

When you made it to the park, Adessa had set off to go play with the other kids in the grass.

You smiled, wrapping an arm around Joost’s arm and walking with him through the grass. Since Friesland was really small in retrospect, you had no doubt people recognized him, but you were grateful nobody made the move to bother or approach you with your child.

“I never thought I’d be getting married soon…” Joost suddenly blurted, holding your hand gently.

“I know, this all feels so unreal to me.” You smiled.

“I used to just say I was ok with my bloodline stopping at me…and now look, I’m engaged with a daughter.” He giggled.

“Nobody knows where they’ll end up, and that’s ok.” You shrugged, allowing Joost to pull you down and sitting in the grass with him, just far enough to supervise Adessa.

He nodded, smiling softly as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. 

You stayed at the park for a good hour, running around with Adessa in the grass as she chased you with a magical leaf that would make you go “boom!”

“Alright, Dessa, let’s go home and have some lunch, okay?” You smiled, scooping her up and spinning her around. 

She nodded, wrapping her arms around your neck as she waved bye to her park friends.

The walk back was relatively quiet, and you could tell that Adessa had fallen asleep. You chuckled, gently shaking her awake so she could stay up long enough to eat, have a quick little bath and then go to sleep later.

“Here, I got her.” Joost murmured, gently taking her from your arms. You smiled, thanking him wordlessly as you reached the front door and pushed it open.

You sat your bag and keys down on the side table, slipping your shoes off by the door and heading into the kitchen. You made a quick little sandwich for Adessa with some smoked turkey, Swiss cheese, pickles, lettuce, tomato, and red onion. What a non-picky baby.

You headed into the living room, handing the sandwich to a very sleepy looking Adessa whose head kept drooping onto her dad’s shoulder. Joost chuckled, watching as she perked up momentarily to eat her food.

“I like your bread, mommy.” She murmured, finishing up her sandwich with a little smile.

“Thank you!” You smiled, patting her head softly. “Im glad you like it. I made it with lots of love, just for you!” You explained, booping her little nose. 

She smiled, leaving the crusts on her plate and placing it down on the coffee table. “All done.” She murmured, rubbing her eyes as she leaned on Joost’s shoulder again.

Joost sat up slowly, ensuring she wouldn’t fall over on the couch before picking her up. “Bed time!” He beamed, dancing and twirling up the stairs with Adessa.

“I got her, just go get comfy!” He smiled, turning back to you briefly before disappearing upstairs. 

You cheered quietly, quickly setting up downstairs for movie night. You laid out the blankets, snacks, and drinks before shuffling upstairs to your shared room to change into some pajamas.

You decided on a matching pair of pink fuzzy shorts and a pink fuzzy hoodie. You glanced in the mirror, smoothing out the hoodie delicately and making sure you looked ok, even thought you knew Joost wouldn’t care even if you didn’t, because in his words “it’s okay to not be okay.”

You smiled, giggling at yourself briefly before making your way to the bathroom to check on the two of them, only to see a tub overflowing with bubbles and an Adessa with a soapy Mohawk.

“What the actual hell, Joost.” You murmured, eyes widening at the height the bubbles had managed to somehow reach. Adessa was lost in the midst of it, blue eyes just barely visible through the forest of bubbles.

Joost smiled, instantly freezing in place before slowly turning to you.

“Hello!!” He waved, slowly putting down the bubble bath solution.

“How much of that did you use!” You half-chuckled, half-scoffed, watching as the blue coloring practically spilled over the floor.

“Mommy it’s okay, I’m the bubble princess!” Adessa giggled, raising her arms up through the hoard of suds.

You sighed, but smiled softly. The cleanup would eat you the fuck alive, sure, but at least she was happy.

“Of course, sweetie.” You giggled, heading back out the bathroom slowly. You retreated downstairs to the couch, taking in the warm, orange-y yellow lighting that consumed the room. It reminded you of fall, with the sweet spices and crisp days that brought you so much joy.

You waited for no more than 5 minutes on the couch before the little pitter patter of feet came down the stairs. 

“Mommy!” The little voice whispered from the top of the stairs. “You gotta come say goodnight to me!”

You chuckled, standing up from the couch and jogging over to her. “Of course I do! C’mon!” You whispered, heading upstairs to her all pink princess themed bedroom.

Even though she had sworn her allegiance to nothing but pink time and time again, she still had the cover art for her dad’s beloved albums up on the wall next to her bed, courtesy of her father.

She scurried into bed, giggling as Joost pecked her little forehead gently. He had to completely sit down to be close to her bed, which was almost comical to see, but you didn’t wanna laugh at how massive he was just yet.

“Alright, goodnight sweetie.” You whispered, gently tying a little scarf around her head so her hair wouldn’t look crazy in the morning. “I love you!” You cooed, peppering her face with kisses.

She giggled, leaning up to kiss your nose before laying back down and rubbing her eyes. “I love you too…” she murmured, trying her best to keep her eyes open as she watched you and Joost turn off the lights and slowly leave.

You closed the door behind you two, smiling at Joost before giggling and scurrying down the steps like eager children. You crashed onto the couch together, cuddling up as Joost snatched the remote off the armrest and turned on the TV.

“This parenting shit is easy. W’s in the chat.” He giggled, pulling you as close as he could.

“I don’t know about easy, but you’re definitely a great dad!” You smiled, resting your hand on his chest.

He rolled his eyes, snickering quietly as he kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

©Taelophone<33

[nowimjustastranger]

omg, I need more baby Stan (Tommy) and Dad Ford! I didn't think I needed that AU till I got here! your works are so fun to read! :D

I'm right there with you, lol.

Ford absentmindedly ducked his head to kiss Tommy’s soft hair as he walked down the aisle, wary eyes scanning the limited selection of bread with a sense of resignation. He hated grocery shopping with a passion, but there wasn’t a delivery service available here in the small town of Gravity Falls. And the arduous task was made all more complicated due to the arrival of his new charge, who he couldn’t leave unsupervised lest he meet the same fate as–

So here Ford was. Grocery shopping.

He grabbed a loaf at random, carelessly tossing it into the cart only to immediately second-guess himself and shamefully snatch it up again to squint at the nutrition label. While this grocery haul was strictly to restock Ford’s abysmally barren kitchen –Tommy’s needs were already met courtesy of that asshole in a helmet– he suddenly had a burning need to set a good example.

His relationship with food had always been tenuous at best. He had been a picky eater as a kid, but college had conditioned that out of him. It was all just fuel, really. Ford didn’t care about the taste or texture so long as it was high in calories and could keep him full for a few hours so he could focus on homework or research. In all honesty, the only reason Ford remembered to eat half the time as a child was because of St–

Ford put the bread back and searched for a healthier alternative, finding a whole wheat loaf that would do nicely. It wasn’t littered with nuts like the multi-grain bread, so it wouldn’t be offensive to Tommy’s palette when he grew old enough to eat it, but it still had plenty to offer when it came to nutrition. Ford triumphantly put it into the cart and moved to the next item on his hastily scrawled list, which was canned goods.

Ford frowned at the sheer amount of non-perishable items that were written down, ranging from vegetables to meat. He had just vowed to himself that he would set the standard when it came to healthy eating, so he could no longer live off of food chock-full of preservatives when there was fresh produce sold in town by a local farmer and also a local butcher.

“It’ll be pricey, but it’s what's best for Tommy. He needs a proper diet to grow up healthy.” Ford muttered, taking his pen out of the front pocket of his trench coat to scribble out the canned goods and replace it with fresh produce and meat. He should probably invest in a cookbook or two as well since his cooking skills weren’t quite up to par outside of warming a can of whatever up on the stove, his brother had always been more proficient in that respect.

Tommy gurgled as his chubby limbs flailed, Ford’s mouth quirking as he indulged Tommy’s desire to gnaw on Ford’s fingers. Tommy was pressed flush against Ford’s chest, the front-facing baby carrier leaving Ford’s hands free. The harness was a deep red with black accents, which suited Tommy perfectly. Red, the color of blood. The color of life. Ford thought it was very fitting for the infant who became his light in the darkness that was his grief and anger.

Ford couldn’t help but wordlessly coo at Tommy, delighted when his baby boy erupted into giggles. Ford’s small smile stretched into a full-blown grin at the joyful sound, giving in to the temptation to kiss Tommy’s head. Then he playfully wiggled his extra pinky, which was currently being slobbered on, eliciting a squeal that made Ford’s heart turn into putty.

Ford carried on with his shopping trip after cleaning his hand with sanitation wipes, careful to keep it out of Tommy’s reach so he couldn’t draw it into his mouth and ingest the chemicals. Tommy liked Ford’s hands, playing with Ford’s fingers or gumming whenever the mood struck him. Ford just couldn’t refuse when Tommy grabbed at his hands, except for instances where his hands had something on them that would hurt the infant.

Ford was relieved when he finally reached the end of his list, guiding the cart to the checkout. The cashier, an older woman with “Ma” on her nametag, made a fuss over how adorable Tommy was as she scanned the items at a glacial pace that had Ford impatiently tapping his foot. His tone was clipped and uncomfortable as he answered her questions, his metaphorical hackles raising as she continued to pry into his personal life.

The woman asked about Tommy’s mother, an awkward silence descending when Ford stiffly relayed that she had passed. Then the woman had perked up all on her own and congratulated him for being a single parent, going off on a tangent about how difficult it must be to raise a child all by his lonesome. She even brought her husband into it, rambling on and on about her marriage and her own offspring.

Ford occasionally nodded or grunted to feign interest, keeping his temper in check by gently stroking Tommy’s arm with his fingers, the repetitive motion and Tommy’s happy noises easing his annoyance some. However, he was already dreading the next time that he would have to come here for groceries. Hopefully he’d have a sitter by then so he could come alone, it would be easier to avoid unnecessary small talk or intrusive questions that way.

Ford's already quite limited tolerance for social interaction was practically nonexistent by the time he left the store, rushing through packing up the car with his purchases. Ford’s rigid posture didn’t relax until they were on the road, heading toward home. Tommy was entertaining himself by blowing raspberries in his car seat, Ford humming a tune for his baby boy to enjoy.

Tommy was a very active baby, reacting to stimuli with curiosity and interest. One of Tommy’s favorite things –besides gnawing on Ford’s fingers, of course– is music; he loves all kinds of genres. So, along with a bedtime story, Ford has taken to humming for Tommy as well. It sends him right off to sleep better than rocking or the occasional drive, it also calms him down when he’s cranky or distressed.

Ford can’t help but smile when he hears Tommy clapping as he erupts into delighted peals of laughter, Ford’s chest filled to the brim with the warmth and happiness that this child kindles within him.

[advisorykitty]

I NEED CAT-NAP PART 2 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭ME AND OOMFS R UR BIGGEST FANS

Rat Runners and Fury

How could i say no to my biggest fans! ^_^ this also gave me a good reason to write lmao

The day started innocently enough. The Ivory household was relatively quiet for once. Nyen wasn’t stomping around, Nyon was “borrowing” more magazines from who-knows-where, Randal and Sebastian had gone and some odd adventure something about cody at the gas station Master Luther was resting and the ratmen were… well, alive and causing chaos somewhere as usual. Perfect time for a little covert operation: feeding the ratmen. Again.

You crouched low in the pantry, carefully packing up a small stash of scraps—half a loaf of bread, some almost-cheese, and a suspiciously soft apple. “Alright, guys,” you whispered, peeking into the crack in the wall. “You know the drill.”

Robert poked his head out, his nose twitching nervously. “You sure about this?” he whispered back. “Last time, Nyen nearly turned me into a throw rug.”

“Relax,” you said, stuffing the food into a small cloth bag. “I’ll handle Nyen if he shows up. Now, hurry up before he—”

“HEY!”

Too late.

Nyen’s voice roared from somewhere down the hall, and the ground shook slightly as his heavy boots stomped closer. The ratman froze, his eyes mildly wide.

“Run!” you hissed, tossing the bag into Robert’s thands.

The ratman bolted, scurrying through the cracks and crevices of the house with impressive speed. You spun around just in time to see Nyen appear in the doorway, his eyes blazing with fury.

“TRAITOR!” he bellowed, pointing an accusatory claw at you. “You’re feeding them again?! You sneaky little—!”

“What?” you said, feigning innocence. “They looked hungry.”

“They’re always hungry!” Nyen snapped. “And you’re making it worse! Where are they?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, shrugging. “Maybe you should… cool off a little?”

Wrong answer. Nyen’s tail lashed like an angry whip as he stormed past you, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. “I can smell them,” he growled. “Where’d they go?”

You followed him, keeping a safe distance as he stomped through the house. Meanwhile, you casually dropped little clues for the ratmen to follow—a tap on the wall here, a soft whistle there. You couldn’t see them, but you knew they’d pick up on the signals.

Nyen suddenly stopped, his ears twitching. “There!” he snarled, lunging toward a small crack near the baseboard.

“Um-! not so fast!” you said, stepping in his way. “Maybe you should think this through. You’re scaring the rats.”

“Good!” Nyen barked, shoving past you. “They deserve it!”

In the next room, you heard the faint scuffle of feet. Robert was close to his escape route. You quickened your pace, throwing Nyen off just enough to give them more time.

“Over there! They went that way!” you shouted, pointing in the opposite direction.

Nyen paused, glaring at you suspiciously. “Why are you helping me all of a sudden?”

“Maybe I’m tired of stale bread,” you said with a smirk.

He didn’t buy it for a second. With a guttural growl, he turned back toward the crack in the wall, but it was too late. The ratmen had already slipped through their escape hole and disappeared into the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the house.

“NO!” Nyen roared, slamming his fist against the wall. “Goddamn rodents! Traitors! EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE IS A TRAITOR!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Better luck next time, big guy.”

Nyen turned on you, his face a mask of pure rage. “You think this is funny?! You think you can just waltz around here undermining me?!” He stepped closer, his chest heaving. “You’re worse than the rats. Worse!”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” you said, grinning.

That was the final straw. Nyen snarled, grabbed your shoulder, and shoved you back. You stumbled but quickly recovered, twisting to throw off his grip with a dramatic, exaggerated spin. The move sent you both off balance for a second—comically enough to make even Nyen pause in confusion.

“What the fuck was that?!” he bellowed, his tail swishing furiously. “You’re messing with me now! ON PURPOSE?!”

“Sure am,” you said with a grin. “And I’m winning!”

Nyen let out a guttural scream of frustration, storming off down the hall while shouting a barrage of curses that grew increasingly incoherent. You caught words like “ungrateful,” “goddamn meddler,” and something that sounded suspiciously like a threat to ship you to Siberia.

You watched him go, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Better luck next time,” you muttered to yourself.

“You… stop,” came a thickly accented voice from behind you.

You turned to see Nyon standing there, holding a half-eaten pickle and looking unusually serious. His eyes—normally glassy and disinterested—were fixed on you with surprising intensity.

“Stop?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Stop what?”

“Annoying Nyen,” Nyon said slowly, his Russian accent thicker than usual. He gestured vaguely with the pickle. “Not… good. He… uh… very mad. Not safe.”

“What’s he gonna do? Growl at me some more?” you said, brushing it off.

Nyon shook his head, his expression unreadable. “No. He do…” He paused, struggling to find the words. “He do… bad. You stop.”

“What kind of bad?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Nyon opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of something crashing in the distance cut him off. He glanced over his shoulder, his usually relaxed demeanor slipping into something closer to… fear?

“You stop,” he repeated firmly, stepping closer. “Not joke. Big bad.”

Before you could press him further, he turned and shuffled away, muttering something in Russian under his breath.

You stood there, frowning, your mind racing. What did he mean by “big bad”? And why did he look so worried? Sure you pissed Nyen her and there but he wouldn't actually hurt you.. right?

Maybe this game with Nyen wasn’t as harmless as you thought…

(kinda short sowwy T-T)

[yona049]

𝕻𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Part 2

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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Disclaimer!

This is a story following the events after the Phantom of the Opera (2004) and only follows the movie and not any other adaptations!

This has evolved into its own story, if its not something you're interested in, feel free to skip this one and check out some other fics on my page! °v°

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Morning came swift and fast. Y/n woke up on the bed with a heavy headache and a growling stomach.

She slowly looked around noticing their very small room they had only one night to stay in. Old cardboard like curtains and molding wooden floor boards.

A very large difference from what Y/n knew. The Opera house had wooden platforms, but the outer walls were made of white stone and elegant sculptures of gold or marble. Rooms shared with other dancers, but still adequate for a living environment.

She looked around realizing Erik was no where to be seen. She couldn't remember what happened after her exhausted breakdown the night before.

She sat up with hair standing in every possible direction, a telling of their troubles from the previous day.

She lifted the covers from her body but stopped just before she got up. Erik had tucked her in, keeping her warm from the Inn's little to no thermal mass.

Her ears perk when she hears a gentle singing float through the hallways of the shabby Inn coming ever closer.

The door handle rattles and Y/n smiles knowing it was Erik coming in, she stood up to welcome him.

Just as she sprung to her feet, her legs give way too the night before, when she was in too much of a rush to stretch or do the needed warm-ups.

She braced to fall into the wooden floor with every muscle in her arms and neck tensing up.

She's pleasantly greeted with warm arms and a strong chest. Erik grabs her biceps with stable hands and lifts her to her feet again. He wore the same cloth mask on his face that Y/n had created for him and was fully dressed for an outing.

"Y/n, I would suggest you keep to the bed for today."

Y/n smiled at their sudden greeting, and quickly it turned to a giggle which spread to Erik who gave a small chuckle.

When Y/n was sat back on the bed Erik put a bag of Bread in her lap, then took off his coat and tossed it onto the bed.

"Where did you get this?" Y/n said surprised before breaking a bit off the loaf and giving in to her hunger.

"I spotted one of the ogling, basterd, patrons who was in the tavern last night, walking out of the bakery."

Erik rubs his fist in thought while looking out of the window.

"He clearly didn't need the food as much as we did."

Y/n stopped chewing and only stared at Erik in shock with bread filled cheeks.

Erik looks at her unfazed before taking the other half of bread from her hands, giving her a small pat on the head.

Y/n knew it wasn't the right thing to do at all, however she was well aware of their predicament.

Finishing a small breakfast Y/n dusted off her hands and tried to stand again only for Erik to glare at her until she sat back down.

Y/n plopped back onto the bed with her cheap dress catching the air and puffing up.

"Well I can't just sit and do nothing all day! I need to do more to help our situation!" she wined making Erik smirk again.

"Y/n my darling, you've done enough." he said sitting at the foot of the bed.

In a moment of silence Y/n suddenly was reminded of all the ugly men that watched her dance, touching her, whispering hideous things that they'd do to her.

She pulled her knees to her chest and hid her face from Erik.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. You must regret comforting me last night." she whispers feeling her breakfast want to comeback up, out of the disgust she felt for herself.

Another second of silence passes until Y/n felt Eric lift her hand and place a delicate kiss on her dry knuckles.

"The only thing I regret, my dear, is not having the strength to strangle every drunken, gibfaced, blunderbussed, Fool who dared look at you."

He moves a hand to cup Y/n's face and lightly stroke her cheek.

"Seeing you be belittled to a mere piece of meat, instead of the brilliant dancer you are, made me angry, too angry."

His teeth clench and his jaw turns into a sneer.

"What I did to the ogling basterd was well deserved."

Y/n felt her eyes widen. A comforting message may have turned into a bloody confession.

Her eyes travel to Erik's clothes, how she didn't see the very small splatter of blood on his shirt made her wonder if she'd missed anything similar in the past.

Before she could fully register what she'd just heard, Erik stood up quickly and took a coat from where he'd tossed it.

"I suggest you rest your legs and body, It's my turn to help our situation."

He turns back to a still stunned Y/n. Only offering a smile before he opened the door.

"I will return soon. Ignorant fool's will never lay eyes on you again. No longer will this barkeep share in your triumph."

With those words he closed the door.

Y/n spent the day deep in thought. Massaging her legs as she was taught to do if her legs cramped and pained.

She felt a warmth in her chest and a smile pulled at her cheeks when she thought of Erik's words, to keep her from basterds eyes.

Then she thinks of the blood splatter and the warmth is quickly frozen over when the chills run up her spine.

Would Erik hurt her if she stepped out of line? Would he teach her to behave as her father did when her dancing wasn't done to perfection.

Anxiety caused her to chew on her thumb nail, a habit she'd thought she'd grown out of. She quickly tried to keep her hands busy to avoid the habit resurfacing.

She closed her eyes and once again tried to get some rest before she fell into deep sleep.

Y/n woke up later that day when the sun was just setting with a heavy banging on the door.

Without warning, spare keys unlock the door and Y/n shoots up straight with the blanket held to her chest.

The inn keeper still wearing a apron with beer stains and a thick cigar in his mouth, walks in.

"Your rent is up! And customers are waiting for the pretty girl to dance again!"

He grabs Y/n by the wrist and drags her towards the door.

Y/n growls and uses her fist to hit his hand that held her.

"Let GO! You have no right to demand this!"

The inn keeper snorts not even looking at her until he's dragged her towards the door. His body spins back to her and he yanks her close.

"Listen girl! You will dance again tonight!"

Y/n shuts her eyes tight and she looks away from the owners disgusting breath and smoked cigar that was in her face.

"She will do no such thing!"

Y/n suddenly smiles hearing Erik's voice and looks back to see Erik had yanked the mans fingers off her wrist and swung him against the wall and onto the floor.

Erik didn't waste a moment in cupping Y/n's face, looking her up and down. He lifts her wrist up delicately and places a kiss on the bruise the Inn keeper had left.

"We're leaving." he said sternly.

Y/n agrees and grabs hold of all their belongings before the keeper could recover off the floor.

They walked down the stairs past the patrons who whistled as soon as they spotted Y/n, but one growl from Erik caused a sudden silence.

That wasn't enough for one gentlemen who managed to sneak up behind Y/n and pull her into a drunken hug.

"Hello, love!" he slurred as he lifted Y/n off her feet.

Still connected by hand, Erik punches the Drunkerd square in the nose and into the wall.

Chaos spreads across the Bar and everyone objects to the actions made. Tho before things got too out of hand the Inn keepers voice spreads through the bar, sending everyone once again into silence.

"That's ENOUGH!"

Erik had pushed Y/n against the wall behind him, shielding her. Her hand still held his and the other on his chest.

The Bar keeper looks Erik dead in the eyes and walks straight past him outside and motioned him to follow.

Once again out in the cold in the street, the Bar keeper pushes his cigar into the snow on the windowsill of the inn.

Erik and Y/n now out in the open ready to run as soon as its needed stood infront of him still on guard.

Finally the inn keeper states his business.

"Look, We both have something the other needs. I need the little lady to keep patrons coming in, and you need a living area, yeah?"

Erik glares him down.

"I will not stand for men touching her-"

The keeper interrupts.

"Let me finish! If she keeps dancing, I'll hire you to watch her. I'll include a living space and coins if you guard the bar and break up bar fights too. You're a strong lad. And you've got a scary look to ya!"

Y/n was deep in thought considering all the possibilities, then she quickly mentions.

"Add three meals a day and you've got a deal!"

Erik's hand squeezes hers as an objection but let's her finish.

"One meal!" the keeper argues.

"Two and I'll dance in the mornings too!"

The keep thinks for a moment before looking at Erik's scary face and deciding it might not be a bad trade.

He nods and extends his hand. Before Y/n took it she pulled Erik aside when he immediately objects.

"This is foolish, Y/n"

"It's a living Erik. It's a good trade, we won't get another chance like this. Just for now, just until I know we can live without worry."

He looks down still feeling unsure. Y/n delicately cups his cheek and rubs it with her thumb.

"Let's do it together, I know you'll watch over me."

Erik sighs heavily and nods in agreement.

Y/n smiles and kisses Erik's cheek then shakes the keepers hand.

The keeper smiles and turns back to the inn.

"C'mon! I owe ya a meal. The names Boris!"

Y/n Finally let's go of Erik's hand and Follows Boris into the inn once more.

Erik pauses immediately when he hears an echo down the street, a familiar voice. His eyes travel around until he finally sees another large opera house not far from the old Palais Garnier.

"Christine.."

He mumbles feeling an ache in his chest, he pulls out a ring from his pocket, the ring Christine gave him right after their final meeting.

His lips twist into a clenched growl and he takes a step forward towards the Opera house.

"Erik?"

Another voice stops him, not Christine, But Y/n from inside the Inn. Erik glances back to Christine before shaking his head and pushing the ring back into his pocket.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 19

Warrior of Asgard | Loki x Reader

When you wake up without Loki, panic sets in and your power takes over.

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, implied kidnapping.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

You couldn’t sleep, waking often and tossing and turning, your head aching from the excess of wine and merriment you’d enjoyed the night before. Thoughts of Loki bounced around your mind, clashing against the words of the prophecy that still lingered. 

Raganarok had come and gone, yet here you were at the centre of the Asgardian world again, with all the power you’d need to burn the village to the ground if you so wished. The thought made you tremble though, you’d never do it, never knowingly hurt Loki, his people or his home. There were rapidly becoming as close to you as they had been to him, a sanctuary from the fear and confusion of the busy Avengers world, but freeing in a way that life with your beloved Grandfather could never be. 

For once you had choice, freedom and the vastness of the world to explore. But what if it was an illusion? What if all of it had been divinely written into existence? It seemed perfectly possible after all of the incredible things you’d seen in the last year. 

With a huff you rolled over again, kicking your legs to untangle them from the soft sheets and  reaching across the bed for Loki’s cool body, the strong arms that you wanted to tug you closer and the press of his lips to your forehead, soothing you back to sleep. But your sleeping body found only his pillow. 

Fine, if he was going to stay out then you’d take the entire bed, see how he liked that when he stumbled in drunk just before dawn. 

You rolled again, starfishing into the middle of the bed and smiling fondly at the thought of Loki’s faux angry face, the pout of his pink lips and the furrow that appeared between his brows. Sleep found you at least.

It was the 21st of December, Solstice Morning and Loki had promised, promised, that you’d have a late breakfast in bed together before he joined Thor and Val. After Thor’s revelation the night before that they’d have to fight you were even more intrigued to learn more about his traditions but you were going to hold him to this one after all of the early starts and late nights he’d had planning the celebrations. 

“Hmm, Loki, are you awake, handsome?” You patted at his side of the bed again, but it was still empty, his pillow turned sideways from where you’d snuggled into it the night before. The amber scent of him still clung to the soft, brushed cotton, but he clearly hadn’t slept there. 

You looked across to the armchair, strewn with your own clothes, but his pyjamas were still neatly folded on the seat, his dressing gown hung on the back of the door next to your own. 

Perhaps he’d woken early and was making breakfast downstairs, forgoing his gown and pyjamas to fully enjoy your day off together. “ohh I hope there’s pancakes,” you giggled, slipping from between the warm sheets, your bare nipples pebbling from the cold, and snuck down the stairs. If you were lucky, perhaps he’d have you for breakfast, the thought sent your stomach flipping with excitement. 

With a mischievous smirk firmly planted on your face you turned into the kitchen, but it was empty too. Yesterday’s mugs sat upside down on the draining board, half a loaf of bread stuck out from the bread bin and the tea towel was still slung over the counter. Nothing out of place, no boots at the door, no wet footprints, no coat, no clothes. No Loki. 

Panic set in. Loki always came home, he’d only stayed out later than you once before and that had been to argue over a council matter with Val. He’d crept in after midnight and slid straight into bed, apologising for leaving you, showering you in kisses until you were giggling and squirming in his grasp. 

You strode towards the door, your clothes from your bedroom chair vanishing and reappearing over you just in time for you to click the front door open. The village square was bustling already, Asgardians, Midgardians and every other person who had made Tønsberg their home seemed to be out in force, bundled up against the cold. 

But not you. 

Fire burned within you, red hot lava flowing through your veins, igniting your every step. The snow banked against the shops and houses melted as you passed, the ice underfoot cracking and shattering into pools of steaming water that evaporated into mist that followed you across the square. 

The crowd parted, either looking away or bowing their heads to keep their eyes from aching against your heat, an avenue of awed faces decorated your walk to the Long Hall, the centre of the festivities, lit from within by hundreds of enchanted candles, courtesy of your missing beau. The candles whipped higher at your entrance. 

“Where is he?” You demanded, slamming the door open and searching the stunned faces inside. Loki wasn’t here either, you couldn’t feel him anywhere close, all that was left of that sedir connection was a flutter in your chest, so delicate it could’ve been a dying bird, fighting for one last moment of freedom. 

“Estrid!” The King looked shocked, casting a glance around at her subject before folding you under her arm and hurrying you into a back room. “What’s gotten into you?” She hissed, closing the door behind you. 

“Where is he?” 

“Who?” Brunnhilde looked suitably confused. 

“Loki, who else. What have you done with him?” 

Confusion gave way to insult, “what have I done with him? Nothing at all, why?”

“Thor then, he told me something about fighting Loki today, where is he? You can’t just take him from our home and -” 

“I can assure you neither I nor Thor have kidnapped Loki, we would never harm him, you know that?” She placed gentle hands on your shoulders, rubbing them up and down reassuringly. “Especially after everything the both of you have been through, I would never separate you.” 

You looked into her eyes, sincere and honest and fierce and knew it to be the truth. Sagging into her embrace you allowed yourself to sob, “he didn’t come home.” 

“Oh there, there,” The King patted your back, “are you sure he’s not still at the tavern?”

“He promised, he promised he’d come home, he wouldn’t stay out until the morning.” You wiped a tear from your eyes, trying not to let them fall onto Brunnhilde’s very official looking outfit. 

“We’ll find him, he can’t have gone far, okay?” Val pulled back, holding you at arms length, “we will find him.”

Out in the Long Hall the celebrations had started, children were excitedly discussing the sweets and treats they’d received in their shoes. But despite their happy faces and the spiced wine that Val forced into your hands, you couldn’t bring yourself to be happy.

You slumped into a seat at the back of the hall and sipped the wine. It was delicious, but all you could think about was how much nicer it would taste with Loki beside you, cracking quiet jokes that he whispered into your ear and telling you tales of Asgard’s wine cellars. 

The door burst open again, this time filled with Thor’s hulking body, though it took you a few moments to realise it was him. Instead of his usual bright blonde hair, his head was covered with a white wool wig, his beard had been powdered white as well and his ever present red had been swapped for an icy blue coat with white fur lining. Thor’s frame was made larger by the various children hanging off his arms and clinging to his legs. 

“A Happy Solstice!” He cried, lifting his arms to hear the children squeal with delight. “Ahh! Trouble!” He pointed at you, making his way through the laughing crowds, his hangers on giggling every step of the way. 

“Happy Solstice, Thor.” You said, your smile only half forced. He did look very festive and you were glad to see he was at least well, but you were too fractured to appear jovial. 

“Children, please give us a moment.” He requested, shaking his arms until the children fell like snowflakes onto the parquet floor. “You don’t look happy, and yet you have wine, everyone is excited, it is finally time to celebrate!” 

Thor took a seat beside you, giving you one of his signature side hugs, shaking you a little. 

“Loki is missing,” you sighed, holding back your tears again. 

“Missing?” 

“He didn’t come home last night.” 

“Hmm,” Thor went silent for a moment and then pointed at one of the children, beckoning them over. “Leif, come and tell the Princess about what you saw this morning.” 

A child of around eight or nine ran over, his bright neon pink skin glowing in the candlelight. Loki had told you all about the resettlement programme, how the Asgardian’s had welcomed all wanderers from the galaxy and had folded them into their safe haven here on the Norwegian shore and you were still meeting new and exciting peoples every day. 

“Your highness,” the boy bowed politely to you and you smiled, offering your hand. 

“That’s not necessary, please.” But you hesitated to give your new name instead of your title, instead encouraging him closer. 

“Leif, tell us about what you saw in the stones this morning, before the snowfall.” Thor prompted him, crouching down to be at the same height. 

“I saw shapes, Miss, in the stones, all kinds of runes. I know some because my cousin, well, they’re not really my cousin, but my mum knows -” the child began to ramble, pointing out other neon faces in the crowds. 

“The stones, Leif.” Thor gently directed, raising his eyebrows. 

You hadn’t seen this side of him before, he was a natural leader, gentle and kind, encouraging but direct. You were glad he still sat on the council for the village, even if he had foregone his royal status. 

“The stones, the runes, they’re magic, forbidden, my mum says they’re Vanir magic, to trap and disarm. We don’t do that magic, mum says, it’s wrong. We only do kind magic, like on my window, for protection.” The little boy pointed behind him to the back wall of the hall. But you knew that behind it lay the layers of the village, creeping up the hillside. 

Upon the windowsills of some of the houses were intricately carved patterns and symbols, some brought back memories of a hazy time before you were taken in by the Avengers, some you recognised from Loki’s teaching and his books in the last few months. But most were indecipherable. It made sense, though, that displaced people would seek comfort and protection, doing all they could to keep the horrors at bay. 

“Thank you, Leif, could you show me where they are?” You had squatted down too, your calves burning already, your lack of food or drink after a night of wine and gossip catching up with you. 

“I can show you, Miss, where they are, but the snow’s covered them all probably.” 

“Can you show me anyway?” 

The boy nodded and reached for your hand. Across the room an equally pink woman snapped her head round, nervously, but waved at you smiling as she caught your eye. 

“Don’t be wandering off, Leif, you stay with the Princess and Prince Thor - I mean - Father Winter.” She smiled and together you left the comfort of the hall for the chill of the morning. 

Through the glass a camera twitched, watching his every move, the red light above it blinked slowly, surely, counting each second of his confinement and the way he paced in time with it.

Five strides across, five strides deep, eight sides, one plastic bed, one plastic table, no blankets, no change of clothes. 

The manacles at his wrists and ankles felt like simple iron, a silly Misgardian myth as if he was some sort of demon that could be contained by fairytales. He was contained, but it was the etchings on the iron that had smothered his magic, not the metal itself. 

Contained, imprisoned, but he vowed it would not be for long. 

Leif led you out onto the wharf, where a large wreath of pine had been erected. 

“It’s around here, Miss,” he pointed to the side of the wreath facing the bobbing boats, tied to the harbour walls, and you followed him around. 

From this side there was a clear view down the harbour wall and towards the only cottage, now empty, that had once belonged to Odin’s aged guards. The door to The Dog and Bilgesnipe was only visible if you leaned back, but anyone at the cottage or in the water would be able to see you. The rest of the village was blocked from view. You scuffed the ground but it was hard to see below the deep drift of snow. 

Thor and Leif watched you expectantly. Although you’d practised your fire skills at Loki’s cabin and had been able to rally a considerable amount of power when you were angry or scared, you’d never used them in front of anyone else with any sort of purpose. Now the spark inside of you seemed to have stage fright. Despite its ability to angrily melt puddles of snow on your walk to the Long Hall, you hadn’t really been completely in control of just how hot your body had become. Staving off setting fire to anything by breathing deeply and focussing on Loki had been difficult enough, but now that you needed to do it again, the flame just refused to ignite. 

“Thor, I’ve uh - my magic.” 

The blonde smirked, “can you not perform with an audience?” He laughed and though embarrassed heat rose up your cheeks, you were glad of the comedic relief breaking through your nerves. 

“Let me just-” you closed your eyes and shook out your hands, your arms, your body, trying to loosen up, you bounced further away from the wreath.  You took another deep breath, thinking of Loki at the cabin, how warm and happy you’d been, and the joyful calf that had trotted towards the heath so merrily. 

Before you could think there was heat at your feet and, opening your eyes, the fiery calf was back, bouncing around, flames licking off its shaggy face. As it danced the snow melted in a wider and wider circle. Leif joined the dance, chasing the calf around the wreath until the stones were bare save for a few steaming puddles. The calf sat heavily at your heels, looking up at you like a puppy. 

And there, etched neatly into the stones, were five familiar runes. 

You’d last seen them inscribed above the door of your holding cell and only when they had broken had your magic truly been free. The calf trotted around them again, staying to the outside circle, and you realised you’d been stood inside them before you’d closed your eyes. 

“Leif! Clever boy!” Thor ruffled his hair and dug into his impossibly deep pockets, pulling out a bag of candied nuts and Midgardian chocolate coins, “take an extra present.” 

Leif took his treat and ran back to his mother, waiting at the door of the Long Hall. 

“These runes, Thor, they’re what was keeping me trapped at that castle. They were suppressing my magic now as well. What if Loki became trapped inside them?” 

“Who would want to trap Loki?” Thor asked, peeling the foil from his own chocolate treasure. 

“I can think of one man who doesn’t agree with Loki being free.” You said, pointedly, raising an eyebrow at Thor. 

“Ooo?” He mumbled around the chocolate. 

“Tony.” 

“Ahh, of course, The Iron Man.” He chewed thoughtfully. “Well at least we know where Loki is then, very reassuring.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“There’s only one place I can think of strong enough to hold my brother captive that Stark would also have access to, Hulk’s cell at the Avenger’s Compound.” 

“Fucking hell.” You pressed your palms to your face. It would’ve been easier to track him along every coast on the planet than try to break into the Avenger’s compound. 

“Don’t despair, trouble, we’ll get him back, we always do.” Thor chuckled, chasing his chocolate coin with a handful of sugared almonds before strolling back towards the Long Hall and the celebrations inside. 

The celebrations felt cold, the once whimsical wreath on your door becoming a burden, prickling your hand when your key became stuck. The house was too large without Loki’s presence, the kitchen bare, your bedroom lonely. 

Sinking onto your unmade bed you rolled over and wept, heaving sobs wracking your body and soaking into the soft cotton sheets until you felt sick. 

How could Thor treat this like a game, like Loki was indestructible. You’d seen how broken he was after finding you, the tentative way he approached you and every subtle drop of sedir he spent keeping you safe. He had promised to return to you and you believed him with your whole heart and if he couldn’t come to you, then you would go to him. 

With a sniff you sat up, hugging his pillow to your chest while you rummaged in your pocket for your phone. Before you’d left for that fateful mission, Bruce had put his number into the shiny Stark Tech device. He’d slid it back across the laboratory bench and assured you that, whatever happened, you could call him if you needed any medication or assessment away from the prying eyes of regular doctors. 

Perhaps you could call this an assessment of your mental health?

Bruce picked up after a few rings, happily breezing over all the normal pleasantries before you went straight for the jugular. 

“Did Mr Stark kidnap Loki, Bruce?” You asked, after he finally paused to take a breath. 

“What?” You could imagine him taking off his glasses to think better, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose after reading your lab results in those first few days. 

“You heard me, Loki is missing, did Mr Stark take him. I know he wants him back in prison, Thor told me.” 

There was a silence at the end of the line, broken only by the sound of Bruce taking a deep intake of breath and exhaling slowly, as if he was trying to calm himself down. 

“I’m sworn to NDAs here, you understand? NDAs about everything that goes on in the tower. You’re not an Avenger, I can’t discuss anything with you.” 

“Just tell me,” you grit your teeth, hoping he could at least sense your desperation. 

Bruce took another breath, “I am sworn to secrecy, by NDAs, so… I can’t answer your question.” He paused again and you sat up straighter, finally understanding what he was trying to tell you. 

“Thank you, Bruce, I appreciate it.” 

“I didn’t say anything at all,” he said, and then the line went dead abruptly and you were once more alone. 

This must be how volcanoes feel, you thought, rising from your bed. Volcanos just before they erupt, the pressure building inside of you, roiling and burning, your blood like lava. 

Your front door burst from its hinges, the wood cracking from the heat of your presence, where the snow had melted underfoot on your first trip to the Long Hall your footsteps now cracked the cobbles beneath. Flames licked up your legs, engulfing your body and whipping the wind around you. Sparks flew at your touch, your eyes almost entirely black by the time you reached the hall. 

The flames had burnt away the casual clothing you’d pulled on that morning, replaced by midnight blue leather and bronze armour, a tipped staff in one hand and your cape flowing behind you, billowing like the sea. 

“Hey, you’re back,” Brunnhilde pulled the door open but then instantly hustled you back outside again. The change in the air fanned your flames and they roared, flaring white hot. 

Brunnhilde stepped back, her armour manifesting, her brows knitted. “Estrid?” She asked tentatively. 

“They have him,” your voice wasn’t your own, the words searching through the fire and coming out as a dull roar. “They have Loki and I’m going to get him back, come with me.” 

“Who has Loki?” 

“The Avengers.” 

Thor swept through the door, shushing the villagers still inside and striding over to you both. Like Brunnhilde he took no chances, his Father Winter outfit vanished in a flash of lightning, replaced with his battle armour. 

“So it’s true, they took my brother back to their prison.” Slowly, Thor reached out for you, “I too am angry, fear not, we all care for Loki and wish to see him returned home.” His hand crept closer until he could grip your shoulder, the familiar feeling washing over you.  

At his assurance your fear, and your flames, died back enough for you to take his hand in your own and squeeze it. 

“Thor may have abdicated his throne to me,” Brunnhild said, her voice commanding, “but Loki is still a Prince of Asgard, a God to our people, a friend, a brother,” she tipped her head towards you, “a lover,” and her features softened. “We will of course do all we can to protect him and return him to the safety of his home.” 

Letting go of Thor you threw your arms around her neck. “Thank you, thank you so much.” Tears welled and steamed from your cheeks.

“There is a small matter though,” Brunnhilde patted your arms and you let go, a smil 

“Yes, there is a matter we have long discussed.” Thor agreed. 

“You are of Midgard, the Avengers want you for your own, yet you reside here. This is a municipality of Norway, however we are our own people with our own laws and rights. Asgardians are protected, and our royal house is protected also.” Val explained, though you felt, and looked, bewildered. 

“Pledge yourself to Asgard,” Thor turned you suddenly to see the gawking faces of the villagers, watching through the tall windows of the hall. “Pledge yourself and become Asgardian officially, and we can protect you from whatever occurs during our raid of the compound. Pledge yourself and we will confirm you as a protector as Asgard also, a Warrior of the Court.”

Tears welled in your eyes, everything was happening so fast and all you could think about was Loki. Loki locked in a cell as you had been, kept as a prisoner for the entertainment of Stark and his so called friends. You couldn’t bear it. Hot tears spilled from your eyes and you fell to your knees. 

“Anything, I would do anything to have Loki back.” You took the King’s hands in your own, “I pledge myself to Asgard, King Brunnhilde, and will fight for it until my last breath. Please, please, help me bring Loki home.” 

Brunnhilde bent solemnly and kissed the top of your head, “of course we will, we will swear you in this evening and you will be under our protection."

Thor grinned, picking you up around the waist and shaking you like a doll, “ahh Trouble, you truly are one of us now, there is no going back. We shall raid Stark’s compound and return your love to you!” 

With almost too much gusto Thor turned and began singing, a chant that the villagers soon joined in with, their feet stomping on the ground, beating their chests and bellowing into the frozen air. 

You watched, wide eyed but determined. You would rescue Loki, and they would pay for taking him. 

<<Part 18

Part 20>>

[amazingmsme]

Something in the Air

AN: let’s pretend I posted this yesterday like I wanted. But this year really didn’t feel like Christmas & I’m desperately trying to chase that festive feeling. I hope y’all had a great holiday tho! Please enjoy this lil Klaus fic, I’ve wanted to write something for this movie ever since I first saw it & finally got around to it. Just a short & silly lil fic, nothing too crazy. Not sure if Alva’s ooc, but I like the idea of her being completely smitten with the new cringe fail mailman so I went with that. Mogens ships them so hard, but really it’s just more fuel for teasing. Merry late Christmas, & happy holidays!

For years, Alva has wanted nothing more than to leave this loathsome, frozen wasteland of hate where dreams come to die. She thought teaching in a northern village at the edge of the world would be charming, quaint even.

Except it was pure and utter hell from the moment she arrived. Mogens even stooped so low as to pull the battle bell trick on her: an innocent, bright eyed teacher who just wanted to know where all the children were.

"Well, you gotta ring the school bell. How else will they know class is in session?"

"Shouldn't the bell be attached to the school?" she questioned, eying the rusty bell warily, holding the rope in a loose grip.

"Sadly, this was all we could afford," Mogens sighed sadly and shook his head. Alva shrugged, and pulled the rope.

She shuddered at the memory, cursing the ferryman under her breath. Sometimes, his jokes went too far, but that's just classic Mogens.

As she looked around, things didn't seem so bad. Sure she'd chipped away at half of her saving by now, but the more the thought about it, the more she wanted to stay. And now, there was actually a reason to. Those kids needed her. And they were the spark that she needed in her life.

But... surely another spark wouldn't hurt.

She found herself thinking about Jesper more than she cared to admit, hell, she was doing it now. But there was just something about him that drew her in. Sure he was a bit whiny and stuck up, but he had a tender heart. And if it weren't for him, she wouldn't be walking home from school with a smile on her face.

It was the greatest gift anyone could have given her.

If anyone asked, Alva would say her cheeks were so flushed from the cold. Definitely no other reason.

She had to stop by the store to grab a few things, noticing a pack of Christmas cards by the checkout. She grabbed them on a whim, tossing them onto the counter along with the loaf of bread and milk. She didn't even know what she'd do with them, they just looked pretty, and Christmas was right around the corner.

She supposed she could give one to Mogens. For the longest time, he was the closest thing she had to a friend, despite all the jokes made at her expense. He offered begrudging support whenever she needed it, and conversation when she was lonely. A card would be nice. Not that he'd ever admit it. He'll probably laugh at it.

Oh well, he could use some holiday cheer.

And if she was giving one to him, then she should absolutely give one to Jesper. It would just be plain rude not to! And to be completely honest, she bought them with him in mind. He was doing so much for everyone else, but what had he gotten in return?

The woodsman also deserved a card. Such a recluse could use a bit of human connection and kindness. She wasn't quite sure, but something told her that he would appreciated the sentiment.

As she made her list, she came to a stunning realization. They had a postman. An honest to God, working postman who didn't leave after a month. Which meant that she could actually send a card to her family.

Tears welled in her eyes as she realized that for once, there would still be a mailman around by the time they send a response.

~~~

Envelopes in hand, she waltzed right into the post office. Mogens leaned on the counter, chatting with Jesper as he tried his best to ignore him. He heard the doorbell chime, calling out, "Just a minute," as he finished organizing his desk. He turned around expecting to see another child, lighting up when he saw Alva instead.

"Well hello stranger! Fancy seeing you here," he teased. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. Mogens snorted, clearly amused.

"Hi Jesper, Mogens," the tone of her greeting shifted drastically depending on who was addressed. "I just need to mail some letters."

"Really? That's a shock, I didn't know you had friends," the ferryman chuckled snidely.

She fixed him with a harsh glare, sneering, "Like you do?"

"Sure, got three of 'em, right here," he drawled.

Jesper opened his mouth to speak, "Aw, that's-"

"And their names are me myself and I. Ha!" He barked out a laugh at his own joke, slapping a hand on his knee.

"Heeey!" Jesper scolded, which only made him laugh harder.

"Don't worry, you're working your way up to an acquaintance," he taunted. Jesper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a huff.

"Lucky me."

Alva watched the exchange with a fond expression, a smirk playing at her lips. Mogens caught her staring and shot her a wink. Her eyes widened and a blush spread across her cheeks. Her blush darkened when he proceeded to prod Jesper's side, earning a loud shriek.

"Lighten up, will ya!" he teased, smirking in response to the mailman's glare, but it didn't hold a candle to Alva's steely gaze. Not that it was a competition or anything.

"I'll pass," Jesper deadpanned, negated by the smile twitching at his lips. Mogens shrugged, walking backwards towards the door.

"Alright then. I'll leave you to your mail," he waved goodbye before shutting the door, leaving the pair alone.

"What's that supposed to mean? Like, why'd he say it like that? Mail," he mocked, smiling proudly when Alva giggled.

"Oh you know how he is," she shook her head, leaning against the front desk. "But believe it or not, I really do have something to mail."

"Do you now?" he asked, quirking an brow.

She pulled the envelopes out of her pocket, and his eyes lit up.

"Four somethings! You know, I think this is a new record," he mused as he took the small stack from her. He began stamping, but something caught his eye. "Wait, what's this? Is- is this my name?" he asked, pointing at the letter clearly marked Jesper Johansson in fancy letters.

"Well would you look at that, the postman can read," she taunted to distract from her own growing embarrassment.

"Oho, we're gonna play that game, are we? In that case, I think I'll read it right now," he countered, making sure to stamp it before reaching for the letter opener.

"You can't read that right now!" she sounded just a smidge more frantic than she was going for, but it made Jesper stop in his tracks.

"Uuuh, why not?" he asked.

"Because... it's a Christmas card, so you have to wait!" she justified.

"Ha! That silly little rule only applies to children and presents. Everyone knows that," he brushed her off, tearing open the envelope.

The last thing Alva wanted was to be standing there while he read what she wrote. It was sappy and cheesy, and she even drew a Christmas tree! He was supposed to read it at home, when she was nowhere around to see his reaction!

Alva acted quickly, snatching the card from his hands just as he was about to open it. "Hey, what gives!"

"I told you what gives," she smirked triumphantly. She hopped up to sit on his desk, swinging her feet as she hummed a Christmas song. Jesper eyed her from behind, moving ever so slowly before suddenly reaching out to snatch it from her grasp.

"Aha! I win!" he proclaimed, waving the card in the air. Alva yelped when he yanked it away, spinning around to face him.

"Give that back!"

"See, I really would, buuuut, you mailed this to me, so I'd need a return stamp to give it back, and I'm fresh out," he explained, sporting an exaggerated pout to aid in the lie, even if he knew it wouldn't fool her for a second.

"Don't need it back, just want you to wait 'til Christmas," she bargained. Jesper looked from Alva, to the card, then back to Alva.

"And if I don't..." he trailed off, looking expectantly.

She remembered the way he jumped when Mogens poked his side and smirked.

"Then I'll do this." Rather than explain herself, she lunged forward, skittering her fingers up his ribs. He squealed and threw himself against the back wall to get away.

"NOHO! How did you even kno- Mogens!" he gasped at the realization. He tickled him in front of Alva on purpose! He was sure of it!

"To be honest, I probably would've figured it out," she said casually, as though she wasn't currently taking him apart. "You just look like you'd be crazy ticklish," she couldn't help but tease.

Jesper flailed and yelped as she moved to his belly, doubling over in laughter.

"Thahahat's like thehe meanest thihihing you've ehever said tohoho mehehe!" he whined, slowly sinking to the floor. She followed him, kneeling beside him.

"Really? 'Cause I meant it as a compliment." And she did. He was awkward and lanky, with a dorky smile and goofy laugh; how could he be anything other than incredibly sensitive?

Jesper's blush darkened at her words, and he curled into a protective ball on the ground. He swatted weakly at her hands, bubbly giggles spilling out.

"Wehehell ihihit's not aha very good one!" he managed to speak through his laughter, so clearly she wasn't tickling enough.

"What, you don't agree?" she cooed, reaching up to scribble behind his ears. Jesper let out a loud snort, immediately slapping not one, but both hands over his mouth. Alva didn't bother hiding her delight, "Oho my God, you snort, too? That's adorable!"

Jesper was sure he was going to die. What a way to go: tickled to death by his (admittedly kinda mean) crush. Arguably worse than freezing to death, and with none of the dignity.

He shook his head frantically, muffled squeals and snorts mingling with his trapped laughter.

"No? Then what would you call it?" she taunted, but Jesper was nothing if not a stubborn brat.

"Hohow about ugly and stupid?" Even though he meant what he said, he really did mean it as a joke. Maybe even garner up enough sympathy to make her stop.

"What did you just say?"

Uh oh.

"I-I uh-"

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say.

"You don't need to be so hard on yourself, Jesper. Take it back," she demanded. He opened his mouth to argue, but twitching fingers along his waist drew out a bark of laughter instead.

"OHOKAY, FINE! You wihihin! I'll dohoho ahahanythihing you wahahant!" he pleaded, unsure how long he could last under such torture. Alva hummed in thought, smirking proudly.

"Anything, huh?" she asked, giggling when Jesper merely groaned. "How about you just save that card for Christmas, and we'll call it even."

"Even? HA! You call that round of torture getting even? For a- a joke! Yeah right, I think you just enjoy bullying me," he complained more so just to be dramatic.

"Yeah well, you make it pretty easy," she drawled, offering him a hand up. He glared at her for a moment before accepting the gesture.

"What're you talking about? I didn't do anything!"

"That's what makes it so easy," she shot back, leaving him speechless. She slipped his Christmas card back in the opened envelope and handed it back.

"You..." he trailed off, shaking the card in her direction in a chastising motion, "Are a piece of work."

She smirked and gave a small shrug. "Aw, thank you!"

"Y'know, I think you might have your compliments and your insults mixed up," he teased, watching as she slowly made her way to the door.

"Or maybe you do."

Jesper had no time to question what she meant before she slipped out the door, back into the cold.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Pun-tastic!

Requested: No

Warnings: Excessive use of puns and tooth rotting fluff, some slight spice in Soap’s (little bit of a handjob)

Summary: The 141 Men dealing with your punning nonsense

Characters: Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price, and Roach

Word Count: 1485

Simon “Ghost��� Riley

“So little time, so matcha to do” You sigh while taking the kettle off of the stove, making Simon grunt from his place at the small kitchen table, a newspaper laid out in front of him as he ponders the answer to number 4 on the crossword puzzle, pen tapping incessantly against the cheap grey paper, jotting something down only to pause and proceed to scribble it out. Frowning, you huff as you pour water into two mugs, one containing a bag of your favorite leaf juice, and the other a classic earl grey for your lover.

“Isn’t that just Tea-riffic, Love?” You prod again as you set the porcelain down in front of him, just to the side of his paper, steam rising out of the white cup and wafting up to his nose. It draws his attention long enough for him to hum and reach for it, chugging it like it wasn’t magma hot and just lightly flavored water, no time for it to really steep. If you weren’t so accustomed to this behavior then you might have recoiled in disgust. Instead you only sighed, pouting about the fact that you’re normally indulgent husband seemed to be too tired to put up with you this morning.

“I’m gonna love you for oolong time.” Simon finally whispered after a long moment of silence, barely even twitching in his seat when your face immediately lit up with a bright smile at his words before you launched yourself at him like some sort of rabid animal, glomping on him lovingly as you pepper his cheeks with loud and wet kisses. He moved only his arm, wrapping it around your waist gently and squeezing your hip in his usual gentle and affectionate way, big fingers digging in while he moves his to kiss the top of your head.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

“Hate to pop your bubble.” You whisper to Soap, voice soft and thick with tiredness as you woke up, tickled by the feeling of his lips against the shell of your ear, his cock prodding against the back of your thigh incessantly, heart head dripping precum all over your skin like a leaky faucet. “But we don’t have time for a roll in the hay. Gotta get up and get to the meeting.” You say, eyes fluttering closed when his hand trailed against your front, pulling one of your nipples between his middle and ring fingers, tweaking and rubbing in a way that had you rubbing your thighs together.

“Slippery slope.” You say in response to his whispered ‘five more minutes’, reaching a hand behind you to grab at his cock, stroking it slowly in that way that has him jerking and growling in your grip. “First it’s five more minutes, then it’s an hour, then we’re both running laps around base while Cap is glaring us down.” You coo teasingly, giving him a last squeeze before rolling out of his grasp, giggling when he tries to grab at you again, glaring up at you pitifully, like an angry and indignant puppy.

“I love you soap very much.” You quip, grinning wide at his groan of annoyance at both your joke and your escape from his clutches, barely even bothering to throw on your shirt before you were darting out of the room and away from his leering eyes. God only knows that, if you stayed in there with him, then you’d inevitably be dragged back into bed with him. And you weren’t exactly lying about having a meeting with Price later in the day, and you certainly didn’t want your Captain to take out your husband’s overindulgence on your ass.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

“When does bread go bad? When you yeast expect it!” You exclaimed as you pulled out a loaf of bread from the bread box, sighing when you look at the mold spotted across the bottom. Not actually all that unexpected since you and Gaz had been suddenly deployed a few days ago, with no chance to finish off the already half gone loaf. Still, it was disappointing, and you tossed the bag into the nearby bin before crouching to pull a box of penne noodles out of the cabinet and presenting it to your husband.

“What do you call pasta with no money? Penne-less!” You quip, grinning widely at Gaz’s barely contained chuckles, biting his lip as he gives you the look of someone so utterly in love yet absolutely done with your sense of humor. Though mostly he was just thankful that you hadn’t sunken down to the level of Ghost’s (and many other soldiers’) humor. He’d trade a thousand of their jokes for just one of your horrible puns, if only for the amount of warmth that rose in his chest each time you said one, the pride on your face more than enough to make his day.

Unable to resist, Kyle stands up from his chair, setting his phone down on the table and making his way to the fridge, opening it as he watches your confused expression from his peripheral view, grabbing the tub of butter and tossing the lid to the side before scooping some out with his pinky finger and spreading it across your nose. “You’re my butter half.” He says, his heart melting a little bit at your delighted smile before you launched yourself at him to smear the butter across his own face when you kiss him.

John Price

“This may sound cheesy but I think you’re grate.” You tell Price one morning, the both of you hunched over a rather expensive looking charcuterie board that Mrs. Laswell had gifted you both after a mission gone very well. Kate had practically begged you both to take it with her eyes, not that either of you was going to refuse such a delicious offer. Apparently her wife had taken up the hobby of snack trays like this and her house was filled with them, leaving her desperate to get rid of a few before they took over her home and kicked her out of her side of the bed.

“Don’t get feta up of my gouda jokes.” Were the next words out of your mouth when your Captain gave you a ‘really?’ look before taking the next bite of what looked to be an oddly perfectly triangular slice of sourdough, topped with what you’re fairly certain is actually gouda. As much as you would have liked that to be intentional on your part, you instead simply choose to bask in the glory of the universe being on your side for once, aiding in the comedy of your glorious puns.

But of course you couldn’t leave it off there, so you turned to your husband when the dishes were washed and neatly tucked away, feeling excitement thrum through you at the way Price stiffens up and arches his brow at you, clearly bracing himself for the next words to leave your mouth. “Wanna curdle?” You ask, squealing loudly when he rushes you, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up onto his shoulder, your laughter and his adoring sighs filling the halls of your home, showing how much you both truly cared for each other.

Gary “Roach” Sanderson

“Bee ready to laugh out loud.” You tell Roach, watching his head perk up from where he was just hunched over his desk, filling out the last few words of his report with some struggle. He blinks at you slowly, clearly working through the haze of his overly focused and exhausted mind to try and process what you had just said to him before he groaned in recognition, lifting his hands off the keyboard to speak back to you, your eyes immediately darting to his deft fingers as they form the words.

“Insect puns really bug me.” He signs with a playful roll of his dark coffee coloured eyes, making the both of you chuckle quietly. When the already soft noises died down, he fidgeted with his mandated gloves for a moment before speaking again. “Come here.” He signed and you didn’t bother verbally responding, just plopping yourself in his lap like you knew he wanted, beaming at him as he sighs peacefully and cranes his head to kiss your cheek, his lips warm and soft, his fingers gripping your thigh, digging into plush flesh.

“You mean the worm to me.” You whisper into his ear, your laughter loud and almost bark like when he groans deeply at the cheesy lines, playfully unwrapping his hands and pushing at you with no real force, shaking his head at your antics. But then, he raised his fingers, tracing what you thought were random shapes into your cheek, before you realized that he was spelling something. ‘Lovebug.’ You smiled at him, all soft and sweet, before gripped the collar of his shirt and yanking him closer to give him the sloppiest kiss of his life.

[rooksunday]

fluffcember day fifteen: naughty list

Seventeen had never cared about natborn traditions or holidays or whatever other nonsense the galaxy had seen fit to distract his troopers with when they should have been attending to their duty. He had been forced to concede ground, however, after the fall of the former Chancellor and the end of the war Seventeen and the clones had been created to fight. Fine. Some diversions were necessary. Some diversions could be permitted.

In order to, for example, not start screaming and never stop.

Not long after the fall of Kamino, Fordo had banned Seventeen from the range, which had been the first option for his own distraction from what Crackle had 'diagnosed' as existential despair. Crackle was one of few surviving alpha medics, and in the absence of physical wounds to tend, had decided to scrape the holonet for bacta for the mind. Absolute nonsense but Crackle—weak knees, weak heart, bafflingly strong conviction once he dug his heels in—had ordered Seventeen to at least pretend to give a kriff about anything other than sanctioned murder.

That had been the start of the screaming portion of the affair. Somewhere among all that, Seventeen had managed to convey that he did give a kriff, and had protested as such. Possibly at longer length that his dignity could stand.

Out loud where other beings can see, then, had been the dry response.

Seventeen didn't remember Crackle being so mouthy. It had reminded him of the command cadets.

Following that enlightening exchange, and Fordo intervening to throw soft furnishings at Seventeen like they were live ordnance, it had been an embarrassingly short surrender to Seventeen finally reading the comm messages he'd been ignoring, whereupon he'd learnt that half the former Grand Army of the Republic had become bedwetters over something called 'Life Day'. Some nattie holiday. Yet, having nothing better to do—and being banned from anything with higher yield than a loaf of bread—Seventeen had researched what that was about, and from there. Well.

He'd had the idea, hadn't he.

And, in his forced retirement, a glut of time to bring the idea into being.

All of which had led to Seventeen sitting in the single studio into which he'd been boxed away, in the complex on the planet where Fordo had dragged him after the fall of Kamino, watching his comm light up with even more messages than he'd received since said fall. (The declaration of independence by the alphas had been broadcast across half the galaxy, Seventeen framed forever behind Fordo's shoulder, teeth bared in victory.)

Crackle let himself into Seventeen's room after his furious knocking went ignored.

"Seventeen, what the kark did you do? I've been getting messages from troopers I didn't think knew I existed, checking to see if you have a head injury we don't all already know about," Crackle bitched, creaking his way over to sit on the arm of Seventeen's armchair.

"Sounds like a failure in opsec. Get off my chair, your fat ass will make it lopsided."

"I'll sit on the other side next time. Or I can get Fordo in here if you prefer? Even it out?" Seventeen grunted and Crackle snorted. "Thought so." He dug a knuckle into Seventeen’s traps, where there had always been a gap in their armour. "Talk me through what this is all about."

"Life Day. Naughty list."

"…Talk more words."

Seventeen rolled his eyes and slouched back in his armchair, stretching one foot to hook around the low table where he'd thrown his comm. The scrape of the table across the bare floor made Crackle twitch and dig his knuckle in again. Seventeen jabbed Crackle sharply in the inner thigh, then grabbed his comm and tossed it at the other alpha, forcing Crackle to choose to retaliate or catch the comm.

He caught the comm.

Crackle had always been a softie.

Beautiful silence descended as Crackle read through the relevant page that Seventeen had bookmarked on his comm, expecting an interrogation from one or other of alphas packed into the complex. Seventeen checked the absence of dirt beneath his nails as Crackle read.

"Naughty list," Crackle finally said.

"That's right."

"Coal."

Seventeen hummed in affirmation. Then he seesawed his hand. "Coal-ish. Fossil fuels are expensive."

"You boxed up and sent a coal-ish rock to half the cee-cees. With no explanation. Because you decided they're on the naughty list for Life Day?" Crackle confirmed, his voice not giving anything away.

Seventeen didn't allow himself to smile. He'd been very serious in his assessment of the command class, after all.

"I did," he said, with a nod.

A loud smacking noise ricocheted in Seventeen's ear as Crackle delivered an obnoxious kiss to the side of his head. Seventeen had scarcely finished recoiling from that before Crackle was hauling him bodily to his feet and tugging him toward the door.

"What the k— Slow down! What are you doing? You're a medic, how are you so karking slippery—"

"Stop struggling and come with me. You're a kriffin' genius! Come on, if you tell Fordo how you did it, we can get a load of the cee-tees too and really fuck with them—"

Seventeen stopped struggling and let himself be tugged along by Crackle's enthusiasm. Sometimes a soldier had to accept there were battles not worth the fight.

Sometimes they even had to smile about losing.

[coffee-at-daybreak]

what we want | teldryn sero x reader

Ever since you helped clear Raven Rock mine recently, the town was seeing a boom in business. Miners were flocking to get their share of work in. As a result, the Retching Netch would become quite hectic every night, seeing as all the exhausted workers just wanted a nice meal and drink and a comfy place to stay. You were lucky to have come into the inn when you did, before the rush, so you managed to snag a table tucked away in the corner. You stare at the half-finished loaf of bread you’d been picking at, lost deep in thought despite the ruckus around you.

You’re jolted out of it when you feel a boot tap against your own under the table. “Still awake, serjo?” Teldryn asks.

You look up at him, met with his slightly concerned but amused red eyes. “Huh?”

“You haven’t even had a drink yet and you look out of it.” He tilts his head. “Everything alright?”

How dare he ask you that, with that damned helmet off, staring at you with those damned alluring eyes, on that damned captivating face of his. You’ve seen it before, but the effect it has on you is just as intense as the first time - your skin gets warm, your mouth goes dry, and your belly feels like it’s housing a frenzied moth with all its fluttering.

But you maintain your composure, thank the gods. You nod at him. “Y-yes, I’m just … thinking.”

“About what?”

You gulp, nervousness wringing your already unstable belly into a knot. “Well…"

Teldryn chuckles. “Uh oh.”

There’s a long pause as he patiently waits for you to gather your words. The sound of voices and laughter echo off the walls of the inn. You toss around options in your head for a moment, but you finally go with the blunt, flat approach.

“What are we?” You ask.

He simply stares at you for a second. “..What?” He finally shoots back, in a tone that makes you feel like you just asked something silly.

But it’s not something silly to you. There’s a lot about him and your relationship that you do know. You know that you started out as a simple patron and hireling pair. You were acquaintances, people who talked only to discuss plans and money and whatnot. Then you were friends - you talked about your backgrounds, about your adventures, about your interests and dreams. You went from simply using his company, to actually cherishing it.

And you don’t know when, or how, but you strayed onto the messy path of more than friends. His lingering touches when he helped adjust your armor. The soft tone you started to adopt when you said his name. The way you two embraced after a brutal, exhausting battle at a bandit fort. Sharing a bed at an inn or holding hands to stay together in a crowded city. In the heat of the moment, these things all came naturally to you, and you honestly had never given it much thought before.

But it hit you this morning, when you two had been locked in a practice sparring session, and one particular moment had you mere inches apart, and all you wanted to do was pin him down and kiss the life out of him. But he’d leaned back, declaring you’d had enough practice and it was time to get moving. And you’d finally felt the strangling weight of that dreaded thought.

You didn’t know what you were - just a patron and their hireling, or something more.

“W-well, it’s just…” You rub at your neck nervously. Your pulse sounds like thunder in your ears. “I don’t want to assume anything, but sometimes it feels like… maybe we…”

You can’t even get the words out. There’s a strange, suffocating fear gripping at your chest. You can’t help but worry that this will turn out to be a grand misunderstanding, and you’ll be made to look like a fool. Knowing that could end in Teldryn leaving your side is all the more terrifying.

He is silent for a second, which only increases your fear. Then he’s cracking a smile, one side of his mouth lifting. “You are adorable, Dovahkiin.”

Heat grows under your cheeks. You watch him as he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. His boot taps yours again, playfully.

“What do you want us to be?” He asks.

You blink at him. “Wha- you can’t ask me that!”

“Why not?” He laughs.

“You could be setting me up here,” you mumble. The warmth on your skin is spreading everywhere, and you worry you’ll start sweating any minute now.

“Now, now, I may have my dark side, but I’m not evil.” Teldryn’s smile turns into a grin. “I just want to hear you say it.”

“You are the worst. I regret saying anything.”

“Come on, tell me.” His eyes narrow, staring at you with paralyzing intensity. “What do you want us to be, serjo?”

You fight the urge to pick up your abandoned piece of bread and throw it at him. Instead, you take a deep breath in. You shift your foot under the table, extending it so that your leg leans into his a little. He holds your gaze, but you notice the way his eyes relax from their narrowed glare.

“I want us to be more,” you say, trying to keep your voice as firm and as steady as you can keep it. “I want you to be more than just a mercenary, and I want to be more than just your boss. I want us to be together because we want to be, not because we have to be.”

There’s another tense silence, in which he continues to simply stare at you. Panic overtakes you and you wave your hands in front of you a little. “Unless of course, you don’t want the same. Then I shall pay you a handsome amount of septims and we can pretend I never-”

“Sh.” He interrupts sharply, which works because you stop and look back at him. Your entire body is in overdrive. Your heart feels like it might leap out of your throat.

Teldryn’s smile softens. He unfolds one of his arms and pats at his lap. “Come here.”

You give him a split second “are you insane” look but he urges you again. You swallow the last of your nerves and stand, knees feeling a little weak as you step over to him. You take a very unsure, very careful seat on his leg. One of his arms immediately wraps around your waist to pull you closer. His other arm dives to pick up your legs and drape them across his lap, so you are situated comfortably against him.

It’s not fear that’s fueling your crazed heart rate anymore, but a thrill of elation. Especially your eyes lock with his, and you realize you’ve never seen them this close up before, their intense red color more hypnotizing than ever. In the cozy lantern lights of the inn, you could sit and study his details forever, from the angles of his face to the tiniest scar notched into his skin.

“Firstly, I don’t do this with any of my patrons,” he says , his voice so much closer and warmer, now that you hear it better amongst the noise of the inn.

“I’d hope not. Because if so, you might be in the wrong field of employment,” you quip, and his body quivers beneath your own with his laughter. You snake an arm around his neck, resting it over his shoulders. You can’t help but smile, a cheesy but genuine smile. Relief starts to sweep through you, eradicating the last of your worries.

“Second, consider this my resignation as your hireling,” Teldryn continues.

You arch an eyebrow in question. “What is your new title, then?” You dare to ask.

His hand moves off your leg and reaches out to take your own hand into it. You’d never felt his hand without his gloves on before. His skin is calloused but warm, and like him, it feels so strong, so protective.

He lifts your joined hands to his lips, planting a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “Yours. All yours,” he murmurs against your skin.

Were he not holding you so firmly right now, you might have actually swooned. That flutter in your abdomen floats up to your chest, where your heart feels like it’s blooming in joy. You don’t even care if there happens to be anyone looking at you two. It’s hard to care about anything else right now when he’s holding you like this, and looking at you with a tenderness reserved for only you.

“I do like the sound of that,” you admit. “I’ll approve it, so long as we make it fair and you consider me yours as well.”

He grins up at you, his arm giving you a playful squeeze around your abdomen. “Deal.” Then he lowers his arm at your back, which drops you just enough for him to lean in and join your lips together, as if to seal your new agreement.

[lou-struck]

Cheesin and Grillin

Kotaro Bokuto x reader

Prompt: 🎶+ kitchen

~After a productive afternoon, you are happy to make up some grilled cheese for two 

W.C: 2k+

A/n: this is a prompt from an old event I wanted to finish so I hope you guys enjoy!

You're not sure how it happened, but today has transformed from a leisurely day off into a hard-core cleaning day. Maybe the urge to clean everything in sight came in with the breeze that danced through your open windows, Or maybe you just felt like it because, for the first time in weeks, you have had nothing to do and a decent chunk of alone time.

It's not that your apartment is messy, but you and Bokuto have busy lives and many responsibilities. Responsibilities that take precedence over wiping down the shelves of your refrigerator and all those extra deep cleaning tasks that you aren't able to get to on an everyday basis.

A citrus-scented candle flickers in the corner of the room as you listen to your playlist over a little speaker. The flames seem to dance to the beat of your favorite songs. These songs may not be the most popular, but they are your favorite to listen to in the judgment-free moments that solitude can bring. 

Your music is rudely interrupted by the pinging of your phone over the speaker. It pings again and again and again as you are bombarded by eager, loving text messages from your boyfriend, who must be done with his volleyball practice. You weren't expecting to hear from him so soon, when he left earlier this morning, he told you that his team was having a photo shoot for their new merchandise and he wouldn't be back until later.

Hey, hey, hey!!!

Guess what babeeeee??

Photo dude bailed and now I am freeeee

Coming home now!

Let's eat lunch together!!!

You snort as you read his string of messages. If they were sent by anyone else, you're sure that all of that information would be in one text. But not Bokuto. He wears his heart on his sleeve and sends his texts as soon as they enter his head. It's great that the two of you get to have a spontaneous lunch, but you can't help but feel a bit worried. Your boyfriend has an incredible appetite and will definitely need to eat something filling to fuel him after his intense practice session.

Making a meal for one is one thing; when you're cooking by yourself, it's easy to just get by taking handfuls of whatever sounds good. But lunch for two people requires cooking; it requires ingredients.

Ingredients that you might not have. These past few weeks have been so busy that neither of you has been able to go to the grocery store.

The linoleum floors of your kitchen have never looked shinier as you leap over the remaining streaks of water the mop has left behind to get to the now sparkling refrigerator.

Flinging open the door, you admire your handiwork. There is not a streak of stray condiments or puddles from a leaky takeout box in sight. Save for a few groceries, it looks almost completely empty. 

Just as your stomach begins to rumble…

I guess Kotaro isn't the only one who's hungry.

You stare blankly into the fridge, enjoying the sensation of cold, lemon-scented air on your warm skin. Aside from a few condiments, there isn't much food to choose from, but what catches your eye is a block of cheese and the last half of the sourdough loaf your coworker made for you. 

"Grilled cheese?" you say aloud, reaching for the two components. The idea makes you suddenly remember that you have a can of tomato soup in the pantry that you can heat up to make the meal more satisfying. 

The bread is beautiful; its crust is a rich golden brown, and the inside looks like lace. You have no idea what your friend did to make such a perfect loaf of bread, but you know how heavenly it will taste once you toss it in a pan with some cheese.

With your fav on the way home, there is no time to lose. You remove a cutting board and pan from the drying rack and get to work. You set the pan on the stove and crank the burner to low as you begin slicing up your bread and cheese, making sure to nibble on a few of the not-so-perfect slices of cheddar goodness as a reward for all your hard work.

As the pan's temperature slowly climbs, you smear one side of the freshly sliced bread with some overpriced artisanal garlic butter that Kotaro bought last week for its cool packaging.

As soon as you assemble your sandwich ingredients and place them on the pan with a light sizzle, Your boyfriend bursts through the door like a happy hurricane. 

"Something smells good in here, and it sure isn't me," he exclaims, smelling the masterpiece you have been creating.

His wild golden gaze scans you as he haphazardly tosses his gym bag on the floor. When he sees you, His smile is instant as he runs towards you and scoops you up with ease, peppering your face with kisses. "Ahhhh y/n! I missed you so much." He cries dramatically, his voice slightly panting from his barrage of kisses. "I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you in forever."

"I missed you too, Bo," you say, leaning in and giving him a light kiss of your own. "But I'm glad you were able to come home early today."

"Right? Me too. The minute they told us we could go, I was out the door." His eyes are fixated on the pan as he picks off a piece of frying cheese with his fingers as he continues, "I almost ran over Omi with my car when I was pulling out of the parking lot because I was so excited, we never get to have lunch together like this so I am super excited."

"And was he mad?" you ask, watching him unbothered toss the fried cheese into his mouth with his usual unfaltering smile.

"I don't know, I was too excited to see you." if this man had a tail, it would be wagging up a storm right now. Suddenly, you both notice that a new song is playing through the speaker. 

"Hey hey hey! this is that song you like, right ?" He asks with a grin. He sets you back on your own two feet and reaches a muscular arm over to the window ledge to crank up the speaker's volume as loud as it can go. 

Grabs both of your hands. "Come on, babe, let's go crazy."

His energy is infectious, and you find yourself dancing along with him and belting out the words. You're not surprised that he took the time to learn every word to your favorite song, that's just the kind of man he is. He knows that when you care about something, He wants to care about it, too.

He spends on the beat, grabs a spatula off the counter, and starts singing into it like it's a microphone. When you're with him, it's easy to get swept up in his carefree silliness, and soon, the two of you are screaming along to the music like the fools in love you are.

Everything is perfect.

Until…

The chalky scent of smoke floats under your nose. And the spell is broken, your microphone is once again a spatula and the grilled cheeses you were making are smoking. Your eyes shoot open in a panic as you look across the kitchen at the pan you had left unattended. You rush over to the sandwich halves and flip them over in hopes of salvaging something edible.

But your efforts are in vain, the grilled cheeses are absolutely charred, inedible. Not even Bokuto would eat this mouthful of ash.

The smoke alarm, just your boyfriend's spiky black and white head, blares loudly/a painful noise, causing him to cry out in pain as he raises his large palms to his ears. 

Damn it. All you wanted to do was make some grilled cheese, and now your kitchen is hazy with smoke, and the alarm is so loud you cannot hear yourself think. 

"Don't worry, babe, I got it." He yells, sensing your distress. The athlete rushes around your apartment opening windows and turning on fans to try and clear out the smoke. But when the alarm continues to go off, he grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

He swings the garment rapidly above his head like a helicopter, and you can't help but admire his well-built physique; he's not just strong; all those hours in the gym have him looking like he was just carved out of marble. Although you have seen him shirtless countless times, the beautiful sight never fails to bring a flustered heat to your skin.

You are so focused on the extroverted artwork in front of you that you don't even realize that the smoke alarm has long since quieted. 

"Hey hey hey, it looks like someone likes what they see." he laughs, suggestively wiggling his thick eyebrows at you. He flexes just a tad more just to tease you before putting his shirt back on.

With that wonderful distraction taken care of, you returned to your task at hand. Disposing of the lumps of charcoal that were supposed to be grilled cheese sandwiches. Your face falls as you look at your ruined lunch, unable to look at the monstrosity any longer; you pick up the still steaming pan and walk it over to the disposal, a heartbroken expression on your face as you mourn the loss of the bread. Maybe one day, your pal will make you another loaf, but at this point, do you deserve it? 

"Wait," Kotaro says, suddenly holding out his hands. He is looking at you with the same expression he makes when his team manager pulls him away from signing autographs for starry-eyed children. "Don't look so sad y/n, I don't want your hard work to go to waste. I'll still eat it." 

He reaches his hand to the skillet, ready to pretty much eat ash to make you happy, but you laugh and dispose of the 'sandwiches' before he attempts to poison himself.

"You're so sweet, Kou, but these sandwiches are ruined, and there's not much else in the fridge." you frown as you try to think of a backup plan. There's an overpriced market on the corner, you could run down there and just grab something for you two to eat and then go to your usual grocery store after?

But there is something so disheartening about going to the store twice in one day, it seems like a waste of a trip.

Although he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, your boyfriend's eyes light up. "I have an Idea, come with me." He bounds over to you eagerly and tosses you over his shoulder. ""I'm gonna take you out on a lunch date and then we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want." He is so excited about getting to spend the day with you he starts toward the door without keys, wallet, phone, shoes, or anything else that you need to leave the house.

"Wait, Kotaro. Let me down for a second," you squeal, a gleeful smile on your face. "I need to put on my shoes first if we are gonna go anywhere."

"Oh, right." he chuckles, setting you down gently. "Sorry, I guess I was getting ahead of myself again; it's easy to get carried away when I am carrying you."

You chuckle at his cheesy declaration as you lace up your shoes. Today's errand date will probably be anything but ordinary, but with Bokuto, you find yourself embracing the good-natured chaos that seems to follow him everywhere with the same love that you have for the rest of him.

Tagging: @sleepyyshroom, @isaacdaknight

[briar-ffxiv]

FFXIV Write #23 - On Cloud Nine

FFXIV Write 2024 Master Post

Prompt #23 - On Cloud Nine

Briar hummed softly to himself as he worked. Since the injury to his throat, he couldn't manage a 'typical' hum but instead a quiet trilling sound. E'mal thought it sounded rather like a bird's song. The Viera was sitting on Baatu's counter, ankles crossed and kicking gently as he watched the slim half-Elezen bustle around the borrowed kitchen.

Briar looked happy. His strawberry blond curls were up in a messy bun and he had flour smudged on his cheek. His hands were coated as well while he worked and kneaded a large mound of dough with surprisingly strong fingers. The half-Elezen looked up at E'mal and smiled at him, green eyes bright and cheerful as he trilled his little wordless song.

"So what are you making again?" E'mal asked, leaning a bit to see.

Briar paused in his kneading to point at a few bowls. One held a green vegetable chopped into fine bits. The other was some cheese. Curious, E'mal reached for a bit of the vegetable, pausing when Briar made a little huff. He made a little gesture, fingers near his mouth and wiggling them sharply.

"Oh, spicy?" E'mal said, eyeing the vegetables. "Are those peppers?" As he spoke, he gestured as well, hands making smooth motions.

Briar nodded, looking pleased. He nodded to the cheese and then the grater, looking at E'mal hopefully. The Viera chuckled. "All right, I can shred that," he chuckled, still speaking with his hands as well. Hopping down, he went to stand by Briar, working the cheese over the metal. He glanced down when Jack whined, tapping his leg with a white paw and grinning hopefully up at E'mal. Ignoring Briar's faux huff of disapproval, he tossed the sheepdog a bite of cheese.

"So spicy cheese bread?" E'mal hummed thoughtfully. "Zansei will be on cloud nine!"

Briar paused and gave a puzzled frown. He tapped his temple and made a whirling gesture with his hands. He added a questioning sound as he tipped his head at E'mal.

"Huh? What are you confused about? Oh!" E'mal laughed. "The saying. Um, on cloud nine means very happy. Zansei loves spicy food and who doesn't like cheese?" When Briar gestured again, E'mal giggled. " You know, I have no idea about the other eight clouds. And no idea why that is the saying. It just is."

Briar grunted and shook his head, starting to add the peppers and cheese into the mixture and working it. E'mal grinned at him, ears shooting up as the chronometer chimed. "Oh! That's the cranberry-orange bread, isn't it? I'll set that out to cool."

Hands busy, Briar mouthed a quick 'thank you' as he started to shape the second loaf he was making. Hopefully, between nice citrus-sweet and spicy-savoury choices, both Baatu and Zansei would indeed be on 'cloud nine' and glad they didn't have to worry about making dinner tonight. Considering they'd taken their children to the beach, they were likely to come back exhausted and Briar was quite pleased to help make homecoming less worrisome.

With any luck, he had time to get Baatu's beloved kitchen spotless before they arrived.

Baatu belongs to @shadesofblades

E'mal & Zansei belongs to @midnightmagicks

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley) (Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 9

For the rest of the afternoon, I went out fishing at the beach. I got used to being in the rain, so I decided to make some use out of the day and do something useful. Plus, I spent the rest of my cash on a hat from a mouse so I need to make more. I hear the fish bite well in Pelican Town, and a man named Willy will pay good money for what I catch. That or I could ship them out by putting them in the shipping box by my house.

By the time I had my fill of fishing, it was too late to bring them to Willy, so I decided to just bring the bucket home and ship them off.

I was feeling exhausted once again by the time I made it home. I really need to build my stamina on this farm if I get worn out by a little fishing. Or maybe I should bring a snack next time?

Later that night, while I tried to fall asleep, I couldn’t stop the overwhelming amount of thoughts going through my head.

Why did she kick me out all of a sudden? What did I do to upset her?

I couldn’t stop thinking about Haley. She has been a weird one since I moved here, but Elliot says she isn’t usually like this? 

With each toss and turn in the night, I just couldn’t fall asleep. As tired as I was, my body just wouldn’t let me pass out. I decide to get out of bed and rummage around in the snacks I bought from Pierre’s. I ended up putting the bags on the floor after all because I never did get anything to put them in.

I slump down to the floor and lean against the wall in sorrow while slowly chewing my bite of plain bread. 

I hadn’t even noticed, but I managed to finally get to sleep after finishing half a loaf of bread. I had startled myself with waking up on the floor against the wall because that’s not something I normally do.

Looking across the house and out the window, it is a beautiful sunny day. A perfect day to grab those overalls and water my crops. Tossing on some work clothes, I ran outside with the watering can, eager to get the day started.

The flag on my mailbox stands high and mighty this morning, signaling I have received more mail. Reaching in, I pull out the letter that was stuffed in it.

Tomorrow we’re holding the Egg Festival in town square.

You should arrive between 9am and 2pm if you’d like to attend. You wouldn’t want to miss the annual egg hunt!

-Mayor Lewis

“That will be interesting. Hopefully I don’t sleep in.” I fold the letter up and toss it in my pocket. I also notice there is an envelope of cash sitting in the mailbox as well. It was my payment for the bunch of fish I put in last night. “I’ll make sure to put that away later,” I made a mental note.

Now it’s time to water those crops. Already, I notice they are sprouting out of the soil. I must’ve done something right then if they’ve gotten this far.

5 cans of water later, the crops are all watered and refreshed. I had also tossed my overalls back in my house too before it decides to rain again. 

Fishing sounds like a great idea again to pass the time, so I walk my way back to the beach, but when I arrive, Haley is standing alone in the sand. She seems to be crying.

“Hey Haley. What’s wrong?” I inquire as I approach her.

“I lost my grandmother’s bracelet she gave me. I had it here with me on the beach, and now it’s gone,” She breaks out into sobs as she previously was before I showed up.

“I’m really sorry…” I try to console her.

She sighs, “Maybe it'll wash up on another shore. I can't bear to think of it at the bottom of the ocean."

Before she can say anything else, I take off strolling across the beach. Haley stares after me, remaining in place.

“Where are you going?” she questions. She is no longer crying, instead she has a puzzled look as she watches me.

I walk backwards to look at her, hands in my pockets, and give her a nonchalant shrug and smile. I am going to look for her bracelet.

I scan every inch of the sand as well as along the shoreline. I can’t manage to find it until I walk around the right side of Elliot’s beach cabin. Haley can’t see me from here, but I bend over and pick something up.

She is still watching me as I walk back to her across the beach, hands still placed in my pocket. She just frowns at me as I give her a smug smile. 

Taking my hand out of my pocket, I open my fingers and lay my hand open flat, revealing a golden bracelet with a blue gem.

Haley gasps at the sight of it and scoops it up immediately. Holding the bracelet tight in her hand, she jumps up and wraps her arms around my neck.

“Thank you so much. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me,” she mutters softly. The hug had me taken aback. It took me a moment to process, but when I finally understood what was happening, I wrapped my arms around her to return the hug.

“May I ask what you were doing over there?” I chuckle

“I saw a really nice shell. I had to go pick it up and look at it,” she replies sheepishly.

We continue hugging for a little bit longer, neither of us breaking apart. It leaves me extra confused when I think about our last interaction.

She finally pulls back from me when she realizes how long she spent hugging me. I look down at her to see if I can judge how she is feeling and she shyly tucks a piece of her beautiful, golden hair behind her ear. She isn’t making eye contact with me though, she is too busy looking at the ground.

“Anyways, I’ll see you at the Egg Festival tomorrow, right?” she asks.

“Of course you will. We always end up seeing each other, don’t we?” I remark sarcastically.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are. You do realize that?” she chirps back playfully.

“I like to think I’m pretty funny.”

“Is that why girls always fall in love with you?” 

“Pardon me?” I am visibly taken aback from her comment.

“I overheard you talking to Elliot the other day…sorry,” she smacks herself in the forehead as if the previous words just slipped out of her mouth by accident.

I try to ease her embarrassment by giving her a genuine response, “I mean… It probably is the reason a girl would like me, yeah. Among others I hope. I don’t want to be their personal comedian. I don’t have anyone to ask though so I guess I’ll never know.”

“No one to ask? You haven’t dated anyone before?”

“Nope. No one. Had a few one night stands though…” I trail off as I notice Haley’s face drop, “...umm… what’s that face for?”

She takes another step back from me and I see her eyes start watering. She quickly wipes them away hoping I didn’t notice and clears her throat. “What face? I didn’t make a face. You’re seeing things,” she is now acting as if she has been as cool as a cucumber this whole time.

I scratch my head awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. I finally landed on flipping the conversation back to her, “What about you? What’s your love life like? You and Alex seem pretty close.”

That was a big mistake. The tears start welling up along her waterline and they manage to escape this time. 

“It’s complicated.” is all she spits out.

“Trouble in paradise?” I respond empathetically. I try to place a hand on her shoulder and she pushes it away. 

“You could say that.”

Taking the hints, I decided to stop prying and changed the topic immediately, “We are supposed to have great weather tomorrow for the festival!”  I think those are the lamest words I have ever uttered in my life. 

Haley bursts out laughing like it’s the funniest thing she has ever heard. The tears of sadness turn to tears of laughter. Her laughter is so contagious, it gets me laughing with her.

“That was the lamest attempt at a conversation change I have ever seen,” she explodes with more laughter. I wasn’t the only one to think that I guess.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to say!” I continue to laugh. 

Our laughter dies down, and she turns and starts to leave. Before she walks away though she calls back to me, “I will see you tomorrow in the nice weather at the Egg Festival.”

I stick my tongue out at her and she does it right back. Haley is a huge whirlwind of emotions.

[talanashta]

Thursday Morning

For this prompt ("school days") for the Four or More Fic-a-thon @fourormore

Rating: T | No CWs | Word Count: 2,114 | Pairings: Spicy Six Polycule Plus Chrissy Additional Tags: Disabled Max Mayfield | Post Season 4 | Steve's POV

Continuation of the "my lonely days are gone" series. Read Part 1, Read Part 2

As Steve came to that morning, he leaned up a little to see around Eddie. The alarm clock read 5:58 AM, just two minutes before his alarm went off, so there was little point in pretending he could get any more sleep.

Carefully, he climbed over Eddie to get out of bed and shut the alarm clock off. As soon as his feet hit the floor, both Robin and Eddie were scooching over in their sleep to fill the warm, empty space he’d left behind between them.

He stepped softly to the bathroom, where he got ready for the morning. A quick shower, a teeth-brushing, and a hairstyle later, he was out of the ensuite and bedroom, headed downstairs to start getting the rest of the household ready for the day. 

He double-checked the calendar in the kitchen to make sure nothing special or extra was happening today, and there wasn’t. Max did have a field trip tomorrow that he was chaperoning, so he made a mental note to get together everything they’d need for that tonight. They were making a day trip to Indy, so he’d need to prep everyone’s lunches ahead of time to have ready in the fridge, and Max would need a bag of her spare medical supplies prepped since she obviously wouldn’t have access to the nurse’s office on the trip.

Today was Thursday, so… He jogged through everyone’s schedules for the day. Nancy, Jon, and Argyle had class all day, Robin had a shift in the morning then class in the afternoon, Chrissy was the opposite with classes in the morning and a shift in the afternoon, Eddie had work, and Max had school. That meant breakfast for everyone, since the few of them that would normally skip breakfast had busy schedules today.

After pulling some veggies out of the fridge, Steve started to make breakfast. Everyone was due to wake up in the next 45 minutes or so, and he wanted everything ready before then.

The oven got set to ‘Warm,’ potatoes were shredded and dumped in a pan with some hot oil, and a loaf of bread was sliced to be toasted. After the first flip of the hashbrowns, Steve put another pan on the stovetop with some chopped veggies. As the bread popped out of the toaster, he buttered each slice and tossed them on a plate in the oven.

Soon the veggies were soft so Steve cracked and whisked a dozen eggs, pouring them into the pan too. Checking his watch, he saw it was 6:55. Just on time. Once the eggs firmed up, he salted and peppered them and added a handful of cheese. It was the last pan to go into the oven to stay warm, and he shut the oven door just as he heard Max’s alarm go off.

By the time he reached her bedroom door, he could no longer hear the beeping. The question was, did she actually wake up, or did she just roll back over and try to go back to sleep?

“Max?” he called, knocking on her door.

“Come in!” he heard her reply.

He slowly pushed open the door, just enough to poke his head in and ask, “How’re we feeling this morning?”

She scowled at him. “You don’t have to baby me,” she complained. “I’m fine. I can get myself ready.”

Both of them knew, though, that wasn’t always the case, but Steve also knew how much it grated on Max to need help with basic stuff, so he let it be.

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “I just smiled.” He always tried his best to let her know things she couldn’t see, especially when she didn’t have her glasses on, like now. (Not that her glasses really helped much.) “Breakfast is ready, so it’ll be waiting on the table for you.”

“Fine. Now go away so I can get changed.” She waved her hands and shooed him.

As he was pulling her door shut behind him, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle came up the stairs from the basement. Argyle was still half-asleep like he always was at this time of morning.

“Morning,” Steve greeted them. “Breakfast’s ready, just need to set the table.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Nancy said, headed to the dining room, pulling Argyle behind her.

Jon stayed in the hall with him. “Let me help.”

Steve nodded. “Sure. I appreciate it.”

The two of them headed through to the kitchen, Steve pulling pans and plates out of the oven, and Jon pulling plates and silverware out of the cupboards and drawers. Soon, they had all the food on the table along with drinks.

Max rolled out of her room and over to the table as the last few cups were being placed; she took her normal spot where they always left a gap large enough for her wheelchair to slot into place between the chairs.

Steve tilted his head, trying to listen for noises from upstairs but didn’t hear anything. “You guys go ahead and get started. I’ll go get the others.”

Once he was upstairs, he heard Chrissy’s soft, sweet voice saying something that he couldn’t make out. As he opened the door, he saw why no one was down yet.

Robbie wasn’t in bed, but he heard the sink running in the ensuite, so he assumed she was getting ready. Chrissy was in bed, along with Eddie, who was completely enveloped in his blanket in a cocoon.

“Hey, Steve,” Chrissy greeted softly. “Eddie isn’t feeling too good. I think he might have a fever.” She rubbed Eddie’s back (?) through the blankets.

“Oh, Eds,” Steve said, heading over and sitting on the edge of the bed next to the lump that was Eddie.

“I hate this,” he heard Eddie say, muffled through the blankets. “Everything hurts.”

Robin came out of the bathroom just then. “I grabbed the thermometer,” she said and held it out to Steve.

Eddie must’ve been able to hear Robin through his plush armor because he wiggled a little and stuck his head out, mouth open.

Steve tried not to make him wait too long, uncapping the thermometer, turning it on, and putting it in Eddie’s mouth.

All three of them waited, surrounding Eddie and staring at the device until it beeped. When Steve pulled it out of his boyfriend’s mouth, he read, “100.7”

Chrissy made a soft coo-ing noise and brushed back Eddie’s bangs. “Poor thing.”

He saw Eddie pout. “No wonder I’m so cold,” he complained.

Robin tapped Steve on the shoulder and gestured to the door. “I’ll go get him medicine. We need to restock our bathroom because I couldn’t find any in there.”

There almost certainly was some in the ensuite because he took some yesterday. Actually, he was fairly certain it was right next to where Robin got the thermometer, even, silly Robbie. It wouldn’t kill Eddie to wait the extra minute it took Robin to go down the hall and come back, though, so he didn’t argue, just watching her leave without saying anything.

Instead, he turned to Chrissy and said, “Robs and I’ll make sure he’s okay, Chris. Why don’t you go down and eat breakfast? You’ve got class in just over an hour, and I don’t want you to be late.”

Chrissy nodded and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then turned and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s forehead and said, “Feel better, baby. I’ll come back and check on you at lunch. I love you.” She grabbed some clothes from the dresser, Steve assumed so she could get ready in another room and not bother Eddie again. Chrissy was always so considerate like that.

The two girls passed each other in the doorway with a quick kiss, and Chrissy gave one last wave goodbye to Eddie before disappearing into the hall. Soon, Robin was at his side with the bottle of aspirin.

“Got it,” she said, shaking the bottle in front of him.

Steve smiled at her. “Thanks, Bobin. Can you give him two and hang out up here so I can take Max to school?”

When Robin nodded, he checked with Eddie, “You okay if I go get everyone else taken care of? I’ll be back in just a little bit.”

Eddie just wiggled deeper into the bed and his pillow and blanket. “Mhm, Robbie can protect me from my big, bad cold. Drive safe. Tell MadMax I said to have a good day.”

“Okay, baby,” he replied and kissed Eddie’s cheek. After he stood, he wrapped Robin up in a big hug and said to her, “Thanks, Robbie.”

“’Course, dingus,” she said, hugging him back.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and let her go. As he went to leave the room, he told both of them, “Love you both. Be back soon. Walkie me if something comes up.”

Robin sent him off with a smile, and Eddie gave him a nod.

Steve headed back downstairs so he could pack Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle’s lunch, only to enter the kitchen and find Jon already on top of it, making PB&Js.

Jonathan gave Steve a smile and said, “Chrissy already told us Eddie’s sick. So don’t worry about us. I already got Max’s lunch packed, and her backpack’s ready to go by the garage door.” Steve sighed in relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Jon. Thank you.” He pulled Jonathan into a quick hug before heading off to find Max. Luckily, she wasn’t far, hanging out in the living room and listening to the radio.

“Ready for school?” he asked her.

She spun her chair around toward his voice. “Yeah.” Then she started rolling off toward the garage.

He honestly loved how confident she’d gotten in getting around their home. He just wished she could be as confident everywhere else. Unfortunately, they’d been having trouble getting her on a list for a service dog, which they’d been told was her best bet for increased mobility. It wasn’t that she wasn’t qualified; it was just how the system worked. 

The nearest organization was in Indianapolis and had a waitlist that was five years long. Chicago had a couple organizations with shorter waitlists, but it’d still be over a year, and they’d have to travel all the way there to stay during the handover training. Of course, they got her name put down on every list they could, just hoping for whatever reason, she’d get chosen sooner, but until then, they’d keep waiting.

After he caught up with her in the garage, he helped her into the minivan. They’d finally gotten enough money together to get one that she could use with her wheelchair, so he could stop unloading her from her chair to the car and back again. Once she was secured, he hopped into the driver’s seat and double-checked one last time before backing out, “All set?”

“Yeah, let’s go, or we’re going to be late,” she said.

Steve took his daily route around Hawkins, picking up the other kids to haul to school. As each kid climbed in, he greeted them, eventually having seven noisy children bouncing around his van.

“Steve!” Dustin said when they pulled up.

Turning to look at him, Steve said, “Yeah?”

“Can we come over after school?” he asked. All the other kids started to give pleading looks in the background.

He could only pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. “Fine, but Eddie’s sick so you need to behave,” he told them; if he could actually keep them away, he would say ‘no,’ but he knew that wasn’t happening. He reached into the cupholder and pulled out a small handful of quarters, passing them to Dustin. “You all need to call your parents during lunch and let them know, too.”

The kids all hooted and hollered as they clambered out of the van, Max rolling out close behind. Ellie made sure the ramp was back in place and shut the door behind her best friend. She always was one of Steve’s favorites.

All the kids started to head into the school, but halfway there, Dustin turned and rushed back to the van and knocked on the passenger window. Steve rolled it down to hear him ask quietly, “Is Eddie going to be okay?”

“Yeah, Dust,” Steve reassured his little brother with a smile. “Just a bad cold. You’ll just have to try not to get too noisy when you guys come over.”

“Okay!” Dustin chirped, perking back up. “Bye, Mom! Thanks for the ride!” he hollered as he ran off.

He could only roll his eyes as he pulled away from the drop-off zone and headed home.

Edit: I was inspired by a comment to write a bit more for this story (500+ Words!). You can find it in the comments on AO3.

Also, Read the Next Part