#I keep watching both of them over and over >///> the first one overkills me because its just him and ...something else... AHEM and then the

[girlgenius1111]

don't doubt us.

ingrid x mapi x reader

r gets sick. mapi and ingrid get overprotective. r pushes herself too hard, but her girlfriends know what she needs better than she does

18+ smut!

-----

It started with a rain game; everyone had gotten a bit of a cold from it, but it spiraled into something worse for you. Maybe because, at first, your girlfriends were sicker than you, so you'd ignored your own, milder symptoms, in favor of waiting on them hand and foot. As they got better, you got worse.

You'd gone to bed the night before with a slight fever, a dry cough, and a stuffy nose you were definitely playing down to Ingrid and Mapi. You woke up, however, to a hazy darkness around you, and one of your girlfriend's soft voices in your ear. You couldn't really focus on what she was saying, or really who was talking; all you could think was that you were too hot.

Ingrid had shaken Mapi awake a few minutes before, after waking up herself to the sound of you wheezing in your sleep. They'd listened carefully for a minute, before rolling you onto your back to try to improve your airflow. When you kept wheezing, Ingrid gently tried to rouse you.

"Elskling, wake up for me please," she said, watching as your eyes fluttered open and shut. You only groaned in response, turning on your side to roll into Mapi's chest. It was comfortable there, soft. Mapi smelled like... Mapi, like trees and fresh air, a scent you deeply related to feeling safe, and you weren't very interested in leaving that feeling behind.

"No, princesa, you need to wake up," the Spaniard said easing you again onto your back.

"Nooo," you whined pitifully, voice a raspy whisper, eyes tightly shut again.

"Sí, amor, venga," Mapi murmured, running a finger lightly over the creases in your forehead, wincing at the heat radiating off your skin. You cracked an eye open, about to tell your girlfriends to leave you alone, but instead, you broke into a violent coughing fit. The other girls hauled you up into a sitting position, hovering anxiously as you coughed, wheezing on every sharp inhale.

"Breathe, love," Ingrid said, rubbing her hand up and down your back. You could only shake your head at her. Your expression was one of panic as you realized you couldn't stop coughing. A hand on you cheek coaxed you to look away from Ingrid, and towards Mapi.

"Relax, mi niña, do not panic," Mapi encouraged, holding your face to keep your eyes on her. She over-exaggerated her own breaths, and your coughing slowly stopped. It took you a while to catch your breath, and your girlfriends seemed to be having a silent conversation around you. Ingrid handed you a glass of water, which you drank carefully. When you were done, you handed it back to Ingrid, leaning heavily into Mapi. Her tattooed arms wrapped around you, pulling you into her, and she couldn't help but notice the way your body shook, or the sound your chest made every time you breathed in. The Norwegian scooted closer to the both of you until you were squished in between them. You'd relaxed slightly, but you tensed back up at the words Ingrid spoke into your ear.

"We need to go to the doctor, love," she stated delicately. You opened your mouth to argue, but Mapi was talking before you could.

"No, no arguments. Your breathing sounds awful, you could have pneumonia."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't have pneumonia, don't be ridicu-" you were cut off by another coughing fit. Once you'd stopped coughing, you looked between the girls next to you. It was dark, and you couldn't make out much of their expressions, but both of them seemed to be looking at you expectantly.

"Fine."

-----

You did have pneumonia, it turned out. How you were so sick was beyond you, but you couldn't argue much about the fuss Ingrid and Mapi were making over you, laid in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask pulled over your face. You thought it was overkill, and you'd tried to take it off, but Ingrid had looked like she might tape it to your face if you removed it, so you left it.

You were sleepy, but not quite comfortable enough to sleep. The IV pulled at your skin, and your lungs felt like they weren't expanding all the way. Mapi was dead asleep in a chair on your other side, her face resting next to where her hand held yours. Ingrid sat in a chair next to the bed, her fingers tracing patterns over your forehead. Your eyes kept fluttering shut, and you would start to drift off, but something would wake you; a pinch of pain from the needle in your hand, a beep from the monitor you were connected to, a loud voice from down the hall. You had startled back awake multiple times, and Ingrid sighed, knowing you needed to rest.

"Can I do something to make you more comfortable?" she whispered, minding the Spaniard's sleeping form on your other side. You briefly pulled the mask away from your face to answer her.

"You could get me out of here." You whispered back, ignoring the way Ingrid's expression tightened. Your inability to admit you weren't well was something that came up often in your relationship; it annoyed Ingrid and Mapi to no end, but they couldn't be mad at you, not really.

"Not gonna happen, elskling." Ingrid responds, kissing your cheek as you pout slightly. Struck with an idea, though, a smirk finds its way onto your face.

"Watch," you instruct Ingrid, before turning to Mapi.

"OW!" you cry, jerking your hand away from Mapi's. She jerks awake, sitting up in her chair, looking around frantically.

"What? What is it? What hurts?" she demands, eyes scanning you. You laugh, and Ingrid scolds you lightly. Mapi's eyes narrow, and she leans back in her chair, glaring at you. Ingrid pulls the mask back over your face, allowing it to snap into your skin just slightly. You're still laughing, and Ingrid shakes her head.

"Is that what I get for making you come to the hospital?" Mapi questions. You pull the mask away again, ignoring Ingrid's annoyed huff.

"No, that's what you get for sleeping when I'm the sick one, and I can't fall asleep." You're kind of joking, but Mapi's expression softens entirely, and she stands, gesturing for you to make room on the bed. With a confused look, you do, scooting over to the edge. The defender slips onto the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you until you're nestled against her.

"Better?" She asks. You turn to look at her, and melt a little at how adoringly she looks back at you. You nod in response, and she smiles, satisfied, kissing your forehead lightly. "Good. Rest now."

You nod again, resting your head against her chest. Your eyes find Ingrid, who is watching the 2 of you with a loving smile on her face. You reach your hand out, and she takes it, lacing her fingers with yours. You let out a long sigh, allowing your eyes to drift shut. They don't snap open this time, and you're sure it's because your girls have done everything possible to make you comfortable, and feel safe.

-----

Your hospital stay is short lived, and your sent home with antibiotics after a day. Ingrid and Mapi take the following days off of training, insisting on staying home to take care of you. This, you get used to. They return to training a full week before you're even allowed back in the gym, and you quickly miss their doting care, kind touches.

By the time a week has passed, you're desperate to get back to normal with them, feeling heavily left out when they return from training together, even though they're always ecstatic to see you.

You think that returning to training would make things better, but you spend your days in the gym, while they are out on the pitch with the rest of the team. They got to spend all day together, while you were alone inside. You'd been so exhausted from being sick that you'd been sleeping more than usual, meaning you had even less time to spend with them. Combined with the fact that they'd been together before you'd gotten with them, you couldn't help but feel insecure.

You know you're being ridiculous, really. It's your job, and they're doing nothing, absolutely nothing, to warrant you feeling so neglected. Obviously, their care and concern for you had faded since you'd gotten better. You weren't really sure why you felt so distanced from them, but you're extremely tired of the feeling.

So, when the team doctor tells you that, technically, you can return to team training that afternoon, although another few days of light work wouldn't hurt, you jump at the chance. You expect your girlfriends to be excited for you, but when you tell them the news, making your way outside during a water break, you're met with frowns. They both think you should give it a few days, and your chest burns with hurt and embarrassment. Again, you know, in your brain, that they really are just concerned for your health. It still feels like rejection, though, and you replied harshly to them, storming off to the outdoor gym for the second session of the day, this time with the team.

Your frustration fuels you, and you fly through the workout. Ingrid and Mapi are watching you so carefully, which should make you feel better, but doesn't. You only push yourself harder, like you have something to prove. By the end, your girlfriends are staring daggers at you from across the gym, and you are sweating heavily, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Your teammates catch the tension between the 3 of you, and leave you all alone to deal with it.

You ignore Ingrid and Mapi completely as they try to check in with you, marching right past them into the locker room. You barely speak to them on the car ride home, at which point you can tell Ingrid is holding her anger back by a thread. You expect the slamming of the car door to be the last straw, as Ingrid has never been a fan of brattiness. You're right; Ingrid is whirling you around the second you get into the house, Mapi sighing and leaning back, a mere spectator for now. You go back and forth with Ingrid in circles, until you're both shouting, and not really listening to a word the other is saying.

-----

"Because, elskling, you are supposed to be taking it easy," Ingrid yelled, not doing well to hide her frustration. Mapi sighed from where she stood against the wall, arms crossed, watching your guys' argument.

"I was cleared by the doctor, Ingrid, I don't need you hovering over me every second of everyday," you shouted back.

"Y/n-," Mapi started.

"- Do not speak to me like that, y/n. We are only looking out for you. I do not understand why you are being so reckless with your health, throwing yourself back into training like that."

"Jesus Ingrid, the physio said it was fine."

"The physio also said it wouldn't hurt to wait another week!"

"I couldn't wait any longer! If you just want to spend time alone together the 2 of you, you can just tell me that, instead of trying to force me into staying out another week," you cry, tears beginning to fall from your eyes.

"Y/n, what are you talking about? Of course we want to spend time with you," Mapi cut in, stepping inconspicuously next to Ingrid, and laying a hand on her arm. Ingrid looked stunned into silence.

"Well it doesn't feel like that. Both of you can just fuck off, and leave me alone, I don't need your permission to start training again, and I don't need you guys monitoring my every move," you snap, marching off towards the bedroom.

"Y/n!" Ingrid grabs your wrist as you pass by her, but you don't turn to face her. "We are not done here. You know what happens when you speak to us like that. We have rules for a reason, elskling, and you have broken several of them today." The Norwegian reminds you, speaking dangerously softly.

Instead of answering, you pull away from your girlfriend, stomping into the bedroom and slamming the door. You head right into the bathroom, turning the shower on, before sinking to the ground.

You know you're in for it when you leave the bathroom. You'd been rude and dismissive of your girlfriends all day, even though you knew, rationally, that they were just acting overprotective because they cared for you.

When both girls suggested you take another week to heal, and really give your lungs a rest, it felt like they just didn't want you at training with them. You hadn't even really heard them out before snapping at them to mind their own business, in front of most of the team. This, they probably could have let slide, but you kept up the attitude all the way home, culminating in a shouting match between you and Ingrid.

Your frustration also had another factor- your girlfriends hadn't touched you since you'd gotten sick, and you were aching for them. So, you used your frustration with them to fuel an argument, and acted in a way which you knew would mean a punishment. A punishment was what you thought you wanted. So, you shower quickly, trying to wipe your tears away before they stain your cheeks, preparing yourself for whatever Ingrid and Mapi have in store for you.

-----

When you leave the bathroom you are met with your girlfriends waiting for you on the bed, speaking quietly to each other. They stop talking as soon as you walk in, and they don't miss how your eyes drop to the ground, or the way you're dressed in an assortment of their clothes. They hadn't realized, until your outburst, how neglected you'd been feeling. They were wrought with guilt over it, and determined to make it better, make you feel better. They weren't sure that a punishment was what you needed though.

Silently, you walked into the room, hesitating before opting to stand by the bed, instead of taking a seat next to them. You honestly didn't know how mad they were, but you expected them to be pretty upset at your behavior. Ingrid surprises you, though.

"Y/n, come here, darling," she says, and it's not what you're expecting. Ingrid's kind, gentle voice, not the voice she uses when she's about to punish you. Normally, that voice fills you with arousal, but today, this soft voice has the same effect. This is perhaps your first hint that you need something gentler than you are expecting to get.

You walk over to Ingrid, standing in between her legs. Even sitting down, she's almost eye level with you. You look at her, meeting her eyes for the first time that day, and once again don't find what you are expecting to. Her hands flutter over your cheeks, fingertips dancing around the dried tear tracks. Instead of saying anything, she pulls you in for a kiss, her lips meeting yours. It's sensual and heavy, her hands threading through your hair as she tries to put her love for you behind the kiss. Her lips work against yours steadily, tongue slipping in to press against yours, and Mapi watches as you melt against your girlfriend, almost boneless at her touch.

The Spaniard moves to stand behind you, pressing herself up against your body, sweeping your hair to the side and beginning to suck light marks into your neck. You moan into Ingrid's mouth, a sound she swallows, one hand dropping back to hold Mapi against you. You're breathless already, and Ingrid moves her lips from yours down to your neck, her and Mapi working hickeys into your skin from either side of you.

"Don't understand," you get out, trying to determine what their game is. This isn't normally how a punishment goes, especially not when you've broken multiple rules.

"What don't you understand, bonita?" Mapi whispers into your ear, and you suck in a breath at the feeling of her warm exhales on you.

"You're supposed to be punishing me," you say, tilting your chin down in accordance with Ingrid's suddenly insistent hand on your face.

"Do you think that's what you need, elskling? To be punished?" she husks. If they're trying to distract you, it's working. You can barely focus on anything either of them are saying, especially when the other's mouth is hot on your skin.

"Doesn't matter. I broke the rules, I should be punished," you say, not really understanding what they're getting at. Ingrid reattaches her lips to your skin as Mapi speaks again into your ear.

"I don't think you need to be punished. I think you need us to remind you how much we love you."

At this, you step back, sliding out from between them. They look at you searchingly, the panicked look on your face.

"I can take my punishment, I can be good," you say, and their faces melt into understanding.

"We know you can, bonita. You are so good for us."

"We haven't been paying you enough attention, that's why you broke the rules. We want to make that up to you, okay?"

"But the punishment,"

"Forget about the punishment. We only care about making you feel good, reminding you how much we need you."

You look between them, surprised. They are rarely on the same side in the bedroom, one preferring to be rough while the other prefers to be soft. They switch off in these rolls, letting the other take control when they want to. Today, though, they seem to be on the same side, convinced you need them to remind you that they love you. Which, you suppose, you do. You've felt the opposite this week, something they've figured out.

"Okay" you whisper, stepping back towards them. They both smile at you, allowing you to slip back between them. You're leaning down, intent on resuming your kiss with Ingrid, but she stops you.

"Is this what you want, darling? We don't have to do anything, we can just cuddle and talk, if that's what you need." she says, stroking your cheek gently with the pads of her fingers.

"No," you say, breathless at the thought of them stopping. "No, I want you both, please,"

"You have us, niña bonita, always." Mapi promises, lips pressing lightly against your ear as she speaks. You shudder at the feeling. Ingrid's lips meet yours again, and she kisses you harder this time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, tongue sliding aggressively into your mouth. She takes full control, running her hands up and down your sides. You pull away, reaching back for Mapi, and guiding them towards each other. They comply, lips finding each other in a hot and messy kiss. This is about you, yes, and there’s nothing more that you love than watching your girlfriends together. Watching them take each other apart. Unlike with you, Ingrid does not immediately dominate the kiss. Mapi's hand wraps lightly around Ingrid's throat, other arm possessively holding you against her, and Ingrid shudders, allowing Mapi to deepen the kiss.

You watch them for a couple minutes before you can't help the needy whimper slipping past your lips. They break away from the kiss at the sound of it, both turning to you, cheeks swollen and pupils dilated.

"Don't worry, beautiful girl, we haven't forgotten about you," Ingrid assures, voice deep and filled with arousal. "Let us take care of you, yes? You just relax, let us fuck that pretty pussy," she continues, tugging your pants down your legs. You nod, unable to form words. They both smirk at you, before Ingrid is tugging your top off, leaving you completely naked, and Mapi is darting off to the drawer where you keep the toys.

The Norwegian doesn't waste any time, guiding you onto your back on the bed, and settling in between your legs. Ingrid sighs at the sight of you, already wet and ready for her. She lazily strokes a finger up and down your center, smiling up at you. Mapi returns to the bed, in just a sports bra and shorts, strap and dildo in hand. She sets them on the bed, sitting down next to you. She spreads your legs farther for Ingrid.

"How does she look, princesa?" She asks Ingrid, hand stroking across your chest.

"So wet for us." Ingrid replies, before diving in, mouth attaching itself to your cunt. You let out a keening wine, back arching at first contact.

"Already making such pretty sounds for Ingrid, hmm?" Mapi hums, fingers moving to tweak your nipples. "You must have needed us so badly, bebé." Mapi say sympathetically.

"So bad, need you so bad," you reply, barely coherent as Ingrid's mouth works against you. Her tongue is dipping inside, pressing in and out of your entrance, nose rubbing just slightly against your clit. Your hands find their way into Ingrid's black hair, intertwining with the thick strands. Ingrid increases her pace, encouraged, and you're close embarrassingly fast. She moves her mouth, focusing her tongue on your clit, before taking it into her mouth and sucking.

"Fuck, Ingrid," you try to warn her, but your words are cut off as the waves of pleasure begin to increase in intensity.

"Are you gonna come already?" Mapi whispers in your ear, just a hint of teasing detectable in her voice. You can only nod, as Ingrid sucks harder on your clit, pushing you over the edge. Your legs clamp down on her head, and your whole body shudders as she works you through it. Mapi has attached her lips to your nipple, suckling lightly as you come down from your orgasm. You blink your eyes open after a minute, looking down to see Ingrid resting her face on your thigh, face smeared with your slick, lips upturned as she watches Mapi work at your chest.

Your orgasm has done very little to satisfy you, and you reach for Mapi almost desperately. She looks up as your hand tugs on her face insistently.

"Sí?" she asks, pretending to be exasperated at being taken away from one of her favorite activities.

"I need you," you whine, and Mapi takes pity on you, pulling away from your chest. She nods at Ingrid, and you are amazed at their ability to communicate, without words. Ingrid stands, tugging her clothes off, before climbing back to settle against the pillows. You're busy staring at her, at the way her fingers move down to lightly play with her own pussy, when Mapi pulls your legs, until they're hanging off the edge of the bed. She's strapped up, and she's peeling her bra off. Her breasts sit perkily, nipples pebbled, on her chest as she looks down at you hungrily. Ingrid has a perfect view of you both, you realize.

"You want my fingers first?" she asks, knowing that sometimes you enjoy the stretch of her cock in you, loving when she fucks you open, slow and steady. This is one of those times.

"No, please, your cock," you beg, gazing up at her with desire written clear across your face. Mapi smiles, before flipping you onto your stomach. Your legs hold you up, and your eyes meet Ingrid's, who is settled on the bed just a couple feet away from you. Her eyes are dark, trained on your ass pressing back into Mapi.

Mapi quickly covers the dildo in lube, before running it up and down your core teasingly. She presses into your hole achingly slowly, centimeter by centimeter. The stretch burns perfectly, and you grip the sheets in your hands, letting out a low groan at the feeling.

"How does she feel?" Ingrid husks, carefully watching Mapi as she teases her own entrance with one finger.

"So tight, so fucking perfect," Mapi grunts, pushing in further and further.

"And you elskling? How does María feel inside of you?" The Norwegian questions. Ingrid loves this, really loves this. Watching Mapi fuck you, making you both tell her how good the other feels.

"Perfect, she's perfect," you manage to stutter. Mapi speeds up then, bottoming out inside of you. Normally, this position is one in which Mapi rails you. It doesn't seem like that's her goal today, though, as she keeps her strokes deep and hard. She's hitting your spot with every stroke, hips audibly smacking into your ass.

"I want you to come with me, elskling, understand?" Ingrid questions, and you force your eyelids open. Ingrid is working two fingers in and out of herself, other hand playing with her clit. You nod, and Mapi speeds up, just slightly. Her hand is on your ass, then, and she's spreading your cheeks, finger stroking over your second hole. You've played around with anal before, but never spontaneously like this, and Mapi pauses, finger pressed lightly over your asshole, waiting for the go ahead.

"Yes?" she asks, leaning down to leave a kiss on your shoulder blade.

"Yes, jesus, yes Mapi," you moan, and she presses her finger into you, knuckle by knuckle. She moves it slowly, and you're tight enough that one finger is perfect. You feel her in your ass and in your pussy, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. You're looking at Ingrid, who's fingers are fucking into herself fast, and you can tell she's close. She's letting out little moans, inhaling deep breaths. Behind you, Mapi is apparently close too, as she's now grinding the strap into you slightly, something you know she does when she's trying to get off.

"I'm close," you cry, "please, please can I come," you beg, and Ingrid bites her lip, watching as pleasure takes over your face, eyes shutting, mouth falling open as Mapi fucks you.

"Come." Ingrid says, and you do, walls tightening around Mapi's cock until she can barely move inside of you, finger in your ass stilling as well. Mapi presses in one final time, holding you tight against her as she comes too, with a long moan of your name. Ingrid finishes on her fingers, body jerking as she works herself through the aftershocks.

You're exhausted, whole body tingly, and you go limp on the mattress, breath stuttering. You whimper as Mapi pulls out and disappears into the bathroom. Ingrid pulls you up the bed, waiting until you come back down a little to hand you water. Mapi returns, 2 washcloths in hand to clean you both up, which she does with soft care, leaving light, loving kisses to each of your thighs and stomachs, finishing with a light peck to your lips.

Your head is empty, laying on your stomach on the bed, face turned towards Ingrid. You feel Mapi settle on your other side, and she presses up against you, nuzzling her nose into your neck. Ingrid slides down on your other side, hand cupping your cheek.

"You feel better?" she asks, and you know she doesn't mean physically.

"Yes." They'd successfully made you forget what you were upset about It seems ridiculous, suddenly, that you worried that either of them didn't want you around. "I love you both."

Both girls murmur the words back to you, and Ingrid tugs the covers up over your bodies. Your limbs are all tangled with each others and you don't know where you end, and they begin. It's always like this, after sex. You feel so connected to them, as they've reminded you that they know your body better than you do. It was exactly what you needed today, and you're even more reassured. They knew you didn't need to be punished, even though you were acting as you you were. They've made their care for you evident. You promise yourself that you'll never doubt it again.

-----

i’ve been writing this for so long you don’t know how happy i am for it to be done

[luveline]

heyy! can i req one with hotch where reader cuts herself on broken glass and hotch frets over her bc i just had that happen to me and BOY am i not feeling good 😀👍 ily tyy!!

love u! ty for requesting ♡

cw injury 

The mistake is always, always, trying to catch what you've dropped. You flinch down as the fragments of a glass cooking dish jump up and spread out across the kitchen floor —a gasp of pain, a hurting heat. 

"Ah," you hiss, turning your hand as blood drips down your wrist. "Shit." 

You rush away from the mess to the sink and turn the cold water on high. Your hand burns as you push it under the spray, and the water gains a weak orange tinge as it drains. 

"Did something break?" Hotch calls. 

You tip your head back, watching him approach from the hall. "I cut my hand." 

His expression changes from chagrined to concerned. "Oh, wow," he says, skirting around the circle of glass, "did you throw it?" 

"It slipped putting it back on the top shelf." 

Hotch brushes some glass aside with his shoe and stands behind you, taking your hand in his to pull from under the water. "How do I know you didn't break it so I'll stop asking you to do the dishes?" 

"Very funny. Oh…" 

"Two cuts," he worries, stretching your hand open carefully to point them out. A thin one stretches up through the top of your hand and up to your index finger. The second is worse to look at just below it. "Hey, it's fine." 

You turn your face away from the sight and incidentally into his. "Ew, I don't want to see." You peek at it. 

Hotch laughs and encourages your hand back under the faucet's running water. "Don't look at it, honey. I'll take care of it." 

He has to walk a long circle around the shards to the cabinet where you keep odd things. He seems both alert and calm as he grabs the first aid kit and returns, clicking it open on the counter and setting out a couple of things. "I'll put a butterfly stitch on the deeper one," he suggests, sliding into the box with his fingertip. "And a bandage, I think. It's not the most convenient place to have cut yourself, honey." 

"That's what I was aiming for," you mumble, wincing at the feeling of your hand as it numbs with the cold water, "convenience." 

He hums, a warm sound, and presses his thumb to the crook of your elbow briefly. "Let's dry you off." 

He dries your hand with care. The deeper cut continues bleeding, and so he holds a piece of gauze to it firmly and apologises with a much softer tone for the pain it causes. He checks intermittently to see if it's stopped, unafraid to press himself right up to your side, his breath fanning against your neck the only sound beside the drip of the tap and your own shallower breaths. 

He applies the butterfly stitch, trims the little wing so it doesn't irritate the second cut, and leans down to kiss your wrist. 

"What's that for?" you ask. 

"Healing properties." 

You laugh. "Really, Hotch?" 

He ignores your question, covering the weepy cut with a square of gauze and wrapping your hand in a spool of bandaging and tucking the end into your wrist. 

"It's overkill," he admits, taking you by the shoulders to kiss your cheek. He lingers there for a comforting second before pulling away. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. It's stinging like crazy." 

"I'll clean this glass and make it up to you." 

"It's not your fault." 

"That's not what I said." 

Hotch makes you a coffee somewhere between vacuuming and sweeping. You sip at it, watching in affection as he wipes a wad of damp paper towels. You don't need to do that, you'd said, frowning as your love sunk down onto his knees. You like to walk around without your shoes on, he'd said, of course I need to. 

It wasn't his responsibility. Your hand hurts but doesn't hinder. You could've cleaned it all yourself, there was no need for all the fuss, and still he did it without a second thought. He throws the paper towels away and washed his hands, damp fingers pressed to your neck as he leans down to kiss you. "Be careful of the wet floor, honey," he says, a hand trailing down your arm to the beginning of the bandage. "How's it feeling now? Still hurting?" 

You kiss your silly, overprotective sweetheart before you can think better of it. "It's okay. Thank you," you say in the slim gap of your lips. 

"It's nothing," he says, squeezing your wrist gently. "You're very welcome." 

[fanoc18plus]

High Tensions

NSFW Tokyo was loud as hell tonight, but the only thing louder was the tension crackling between them like a live wire. Vanessa knew it. He knew it. And that was the damn problem.

Avoiding him was easy when she wasn’t near him. That part was simple. But Vanessa wasn’t stupid—not even close. She knew she’d have to see Bakugo out on the streets of Japan, throwing hands with villains like it was just another Tuesday. She knew she’d run into him at HQ during meetings that actually mattered. That part was unavoidable, and she’d accepted it.

But the real problem?

The way he kept fucking looking at her.

He knew she saw his message. Four months ago. And she hadn’t said a damn thing about it.

Yeah, she knew he knew. So what?

She didn’t owe him a response. Didn’t owe him her time, her attention—nothing. And the fact that he was walking around like she did—just because of a weak-ass "hey"—was pissing her off more than she cared to admit.

Sirens blared down the Tokyo streets, flashing reds and blues bouncing off buildings. The perps were already wrapped up, slapped in those quirk-nulling cuffs, but Vanessa was still dealing with the police report, explaining shit in that calm, collected way of hers.

Bakugo wasn’t even tryin’ to listen. He already knew the drill. Instead, his crimson eyes stayed locked on her, arms crossed, jaw tight. She still wouldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Oh, she had another thing comin’.

“Missed one.” His voice cut through the noise as he dragged a half-conscious gang member over by the collar, the scent of burnt fabric and smoke clinging to the bastard like a signature.

Vanessa didn’t even look at him. “He wasn’t part of what went down.”

“Tch. So what?” He dropped the body at the officers’ feet, eyes narrowing. “Same place, same case.”

“Not everything’s black and white.”

"Yeah? Could’ve fooled me."

The cop writing up the report looked between them awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure if they were about to throw hands or fuck right there in the street. Wouldn’t be the first time their arguments got too heated.

"Don’t start, Dynamight."

“Start what? This?” He motioned to the unconscious bastard he just tossed like garbage. “Cleaning up your shit?”

Deadpan. Pure fuckin’ deadpan.

“…I can’t stand your ass.”

His smirk was sharp, cocky. “Yeah? Ya still think about it though.”

Before she could fire back, their work phones blared—high-level threat nearby. Thank. Fucking. God.

Vanessa took off first, shooting into the sky like a bullet. Bakugo wasn’t far behind, his explosions rocketing him forward, keeping pace like it was effortless.

Maybe she could run from his texts. His calls. His fuckin’ presence.

But she couldn’t run from him here.

Sure, there was tension between them—real thick, suffocating tension—but it never showed when they worked together. That was the one thing they had down to a fuckin’ science. In battle, they were a well-oiled machine. No room for bullshit, no distractions.

"Oh fuck—NO ONE SAID SCARLET X AND DYNAMIGHT WERE GONNA BE HERE!"

Yeah, the entire Tokyo underworld knew what was up by now.

Word on the street was, these two did not play. They were running through criminals like a damn demolition crew, tearing through Tokyo’s worst like they had a personal grudge against crime itself.

Which… wasn’t entirely wrong.

Maybe it was a little much. Maybe it was overkill.

But how the hell else were they supposed to blow off steam?

The gym? Pfft. Yeah, okay, sure. That helped.

But nothing hit quite the same as putting a motherfucker in the dirt.

And then there was the third option—the one Vanessa kept pushing down. The one that clawed its way to the surface every time they fought together.

The way Bakugo moved when she was around. The way he always showed off when he knew she was watching. The way she got too close sometimes, and it felt like crossing a tripwire, waiting for the detonation.

Like right now.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t break both your fuckin’ legs."

The muscle-for-hire whimpered. "B-Because you're the good guys?!"

Vanessa rolled her eyes before pinning the guy down with a few quick Red X’s, then turned to Bakugo—who smelled like cologne and burnt caramel, body still humming from the fight.

Shit.

And the way his damn muscles flexed when she placed a hand on his chest to hold him back?

Double shit.

“Chill out.”

She felt the growl vibrate in his chest. Felt it in her fucking bones. And the way her pussy clenched at the sound?

Fuck.

By the time the cops rolled in, the two of them were gone, slipping into a shadowed alleyway like ghosts.

Except ghosts didn’t grind up against each other like this.

Vanessa had her hands planted against the brick wall, her ass pressed firm against Bakugo’s thick, pulsing cock, grinding against him with slow, deliberate rolls of her hips.

“I can’t believe you fuckin’ blocked me. Me?!”

His hands were gripping her ass, kneading the flesh like he wanted to tear through the tight fabric of her hero suit. Wanted to get to her, taste her, suck her clit into his mouth until she was shaking, make her scream his name just to prove a fuckin’ point.

She hissed at the way he ground against her, the pressure hitting just right. “Stop actin’ like you ain’t been on some stalker shit, blowin’ up my phone with random burner numbers.”

“‘Cause you keep ignorin’ me! You know I hate that shit but you keep—”

His breath hitched when she rolled her hips back against him, pressing harder into his aching dick. His fingers dug into her flesh.

“…Dammit.”

He leaned in, grinding against her with purpose now, voice rough with frustration. “How much longer you gonna keep this up, huh? How—fuck. You gettin’ wet through the suit?”

Or was that his precum? Fuck, he couldn’t even tell.

She was soaked, though, and she knew it.

“Shit, Zuki… just shut the fuck up and do somethin’ about it, then.”

Oh, that tone? That hungry, desperate little growl? That was leverage.

Bakugo grinned, pulling back just enough to make her whine at the loss of contact. “Oh, now you want me to fuck you?”

Her patience snapped. She turned on him, eyes dark, lips parted, chest heaving.

“Yeah, okay. So what?”

And then she had him pinned, Red X’s locking his wrists against the wall, restraining him like she fuckin’ owned him. His cock twitched at the display of dominance, a breathless grunt slipping from his lips.

“Can you blame me?”

Vanessa worked fast, hand slipping between them, palming his cock and balls through his pants. Bakugo let out a choked grunt, hips jerking into her touch. “F-Fuckin’ hell—”

His hips jerked into her palm harder, his jaw tight. "Keep doin’ that shit, see what happens."

She squeezed a little harder.

His whole body shuddered.

"You're right,” she admitted, breath hot against his jaw. “I've been ignoring you. But damn it, Katsuki, you don’t make it easy, you fuckin’ stalker-ass bitch."

Then, her free hand shot out.

“Spit. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate. Spat straight into her open palm with a nasty fuckin’ smirk, watching as she yanked his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, slapping against his stomach—rock-fucking-hard, leaking precum like he was waiting for this all damn night.

And that? That was the last bit of control either of them had left.

She dropped to her knees.

Then, her tongue flicked over the tip.

"Gonna keep teasin’ or you gonna suck me o—ooofffffuuuuckkk."

He snapped his head back against the brick, teeth clenched, trying to hold on, trying not to lose his shit too fast.

That was it. That was all he had.

The second she really locked in, double-gripping, saliva slicking up the movement as she bobbed her head, tongue circling the tip like she was trying to kill him? He was fucking gone.

“Fuckin’ hell—oohhshit—Vanessa—fuck, wait!”

Too late.

His hips stuttered, thighs flexing as he came hard down her throat. She swallowed every drop, sucking him dry until he was twitching, panting, brain fuckin’ fried.

And when she finally came up, his breath was ragged, eyes glazed, mind a complete fucking mess.

"Vanessa..." His voice was lower now, hoarse, needy. "Can we talk? Please? Unblock me, babe."

But she wasn’t done.

She was too busy unzipping her suit, too busy lining him up, too busy guiding him in, sinking down onto his still-throbbing cock, making both of them groan.

"Ohhh, fuck—"

“Yeah, you miss me, don’t’cha?” His voice was thick, low, nearly hoarse. “…I missed you too.”

He groaned deep, jaw clenching, fighting the urge to do more than just fuck her. Wanted to kiss her, lift her up, whisper in her ear how much he thought about her—not just the sex, but everything.

Her walls clenched around him tight, and he smirked against her shoulder.

"Shit—fuck, Katsuki."

"That’s it, baby. Keep throwin’ that ass back."

She did. Hard. “Mm, you like that, Zuki? Huh? You love this pussy?”

His groaned, “Yeah, baby. Yeah. Fuck—mng—fuck this dick for me, baby. Fuck it good.”

She was close, and so was he.

And just when they were right there, teetering on the edge, drowning in it—

BZZZT!

The fucking work alert.

Vanessa slumped forward a bit, panting. Bakugo groaned, still deep inside her, throbbing, pulsing.

“…You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

What shitty timing. End

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Devil's Night: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: Halloween makes its way around again, and you and Spencer are preparing for the best holiday (according to Spencer). He keeps you busy with decorating while he makes arrangements of his own, arrangements that will completely change both of your lives for the better.

Season Six Masterlist

Author's Note: I know Devil's Night is usually the night before Halloween, but for the sake of this rewrite, Devil's Night is the weekend before.

x

Derek and Spencer walk back to the group who are all gathered in one of the conference rooms.

"The first time I looked at these victims on the map, none of it made sense. There are seven different victims of various ages, sex, and ethnicity."

"What do you see now?" Rossi asks your boyfriend.

"The first victim, Tommy Proctor, often tells us the most. The first kill inspired our unsub. There are two things I noticed. First of all, his body wasn't found for days. He was buried deep in the building. That often tells us that they know each other. Not to mention it took many botched attempts to burn them because the unsub didn't realize how difficult it is to actually burn a human body."

"Or it's overkill," Hotch says. "He wanted Proctor to suffer the most which definitely makes it personal."

"If he knew the first victim, there's a good chance he knew them all. We just have to find out how."

"We can start by talking to Tony Torrell's wife."

Kristy came to the fire department as soon as she got the call from Rossi. Her grief is so strong that it washes over you and clings to your skin like a cashmere sweater. Rossi might have called her in but he wants you to talk to her since you'll be able to connect with her more than he can. You knock twice on the door and enter the otherwise empty office, holding the file of her husband in your hand.

"Hi. How are you doing?"

"Fine, I guess. I'm here to see Agent Rossi."

"Agent Rossi won't be joining us. He sent me instead. I'm Agent Y/N."

"Oh, I'm Kristy Torrell. Uh... My husband Tony was killed last night," she mutters.

Don't react. Don't let her know that I want to cry just as much as she does.

"I know. I am so sorry for your loss. May I sit down?"

"Sure." You take the seat across from her. "Are you working on his case?"

"Yes."

"Is there a picture of him in your folder? I want to see him."

"Kristy, your husband was very badly burned. I don't think that's a good idea. You don't want to remember him this way. Trust me."

"Wait, what do you mean he was burned?" she asks with tears in her eyes.

"The person who did this uses fire as a weapon."

"Was Tony set on fire... alive?"

You shift uncomfortably. "We don't know that--"

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God, this can't be happening." Her panic is rubbing off of you in a not-so-good way. She wraps her arms around herself and cries. "Ohh... Next week was our anniversary."

"I'm so sorry," you whisper with tears of your own.

You don't let them fall because he is not yours to cry over.

"Are you married?"

"No, I'm not but I have been with my boyfriend for four years. I know what it's like to have someone to lose. I know it's hard but anything you can tell us will help us catch the guy who did this. I want to try something that might help us find him."

"I'll do anything," she sniffles.

You look at the window and see Rossi standing outside of it, watching you and Kristy.

"I want you to close your eyes and relax. I want to walk you through an exercise that's going to help you recall everything that happened last night."

"What, like hypnosis?"

"No. I am a psychic and whether you believe in that sort of thing or not, I am very good at my job. I need you to trust that I am doing everything in my power to find this man."

"Okay," she nods and closes her eyes.

"Think about last night. You and Tony went to the Halloween Festival in Greektown. What time was it?"

"Around nine-thirty."

"Was it crowded?"

"Yes. Uh, there were drums and loud music. Some people wore costumes. Tony and I went to the festival every year. We actually met there when we were in high school. This year we decided not to dress up."

She gasps suddenly.

"What is it?"

"A kid dressed in a mask jumped out and scared me. It made Tony laugh."

"What type of mask?"

"Round like a baby."

You can see it now. Kristy and Tony walk through a very crowded area. Most people are wearing costumes and minding their own business, either laughing with one another or shopping at the small booths littered on the sides of the street. Some people are wearing large paper mache heads and others are wearing skull heads. Almost everyone is wearing masks that conceal their identities.

"Okay, what do you see next?" you ask.

"Fire. They were grilling lamb, and people were cheering."

A glimpse of someone wearing a red devil's mask walks past Tony and Kristy. They gesture to the food but Tony shakes his head, not wanting to eat the lamb. They separate and he goes to another food vendor. Kristy picks up the menu and looks at what they offer.

"Do you remember anyone in the crowd, anyone who didn't fit in?"

"No, but to be honest, I was already looking at the menu."

"When you love someone and they step away, there's an instinctive response to glance up to make sure that they're still there. I think you did that last night even if you don't remember. Try to think about what you did next."

"I placed my order. I got the pyro."

"Kristy, where is Tony?"

Kristy looks up from the vendor and notices Tony sitting a few yards away outside the vendor that he wanted food from. Right behind him is a man sitting there eyeing Tony like he has bad intentions. The unsub.

"He's at the Mexican restaurant."

"Is there someone around him?"

"Yes, but I can't really make out his face."

"What about his body? Is it young? Is it old?"

"Twenty-five maybe? Wait. He's wearing a mask."

The man turns his face, giving you a better view of it. It's still hard to see the man's features but you can tell something isn't right.

"Like the baby mask you saw?"

"No, it only covers one side of his face. His ear is gone. He's... He's a black man. I'm sorry, are you done? I don't think I can remember anything else."

"No, you did so well. You actually helped even though it might not feel like it. Again, I am so sorry for your loss."

"I hope you hold onto your special someone and never let him go."

You don't respond to that and rejoin the rest of the group. You explain to them what you and Kristy talked about, and Chief Al doesn't look like he believes it. If the unsub looked like he had a mask on but didn't, then he must have been burned.

"You make him sound like he's Freddy Krueger or something," he scoffs.

"No, but I think he's severely burned. It explains why he chose this time of the year. He doesn't have to hide his scars."

"What about his victims?"

"He's punishing them for wronging him."

"Wronging him? What about his second victim? Have you looked at Josephine's life? She was the nicest woman in the world. How did she wrong this guy?"

"He's had interactions with all of his victims, some more personal than others. It might not seem like much but anything can set this guy off," you say.

"So, he's acting out of revenge? Kristy and Tony didn't even speak to him."

"Maybe not that night but they did at some point in the past."

"Now, wait a minute. Josephine was abducted from her husband. Tony was abducted from his wife. These couples might represent the happiness he wants or has lost. He's a young guy with a deformity. Major insecurities come with that," Derek says. "A trauma like that would be devastating for him and anyone in his life."

"Do you know how rare it is for an arsonist to be a burn victim?" Al asks.

"Less than three-point-five percent," Spencer answers.

"Al, this guy isn't an arsonist. He's a serial killer who uses fire, and that choice of weapon tells us that he's aggressive, driven, and destructive just like fire itself."

"Why would someone so controlling choose the most unpredictable weapon?" Emily wonders.

"This juxtaposition tells us there's more going on with him than we realize. He's probably experienced some kind of loss these past few years that started him down this path. We should look at accidents where couples were burned."

"We're talking about hundreds of fires," Al points out.

"Focus on the ones where gasoline was the accelerant."

Derek's phone rings and he takes the call off to the side.

"Leaving his victims in the heart of Rivertown, in the center of these buildings themselves, may be subconscious on his part, but it says that this affected his very core."

"Alright, hold on." Derek rejoins the group. "Someone else has just been abducted."

"How do we know this is our guy?" Al asks.

"Because his daughter said a monster took her daddy away."

You call Penelope and ask her to gather as much information as she can on the man who was abducted, and she comes through quickly.

"The victim's name is Christopher Edwards. He's thirty-five. He lives in Birmingham."

"How far is that from the Rivertown District?" Hotch asks.

"Not more than forty minutes," Al answers. "He might already be inside."

"Let's lock it down. We'll trap him."

"I'm going down there."

"I'll go with you. Garcia, have Detroit PD set up roadblocks."

"Got it." Hotch and Al leave the station. "Chris is a husband, a father, and a general contractor."

"Check any subcontractors who've worked with him."

"That is a humungous list. What do you want me to do with it?"

"Only look at anything that requires flames like plumbers, electricians, and welders. Did he fire a welder recently?" Rossi asks.

Penelope delves deeper into Chris' life.

"He used Vinnie's Welding and Fence recently, but he hasn't hired them back in months. I have a list of employees but it's still a lofty handful."

"We think he's been following the investigation. Look at volunteers with Detroit's finest."

"Nothing."

"Come on, baby girl, keep checking. There's gotta be a connection here," Derek says.

"Okay, I'm going to long-shot it and cross the Michigan Business Directory with the payroll company and see if I still got what it takes to find stuff." She pauses. "I do. His name's Kaman Scott."

"Do you have an address?"

"I'm working on that." Again, she pauses for a moment or two. "Okay, from the look of Kaman's early years, he was on a fast track to be some kind of hoodlum bad boy super convict. Something happened in 2004 that made him change his evil tune because there were no arrests, there were no suspicions, and there were no signs of rehab."

"Has he ever been arrested with a man named Tommy Proctor?" Spencer asks.

"Once in 2002... Yikes. They collided again in 2005, like literally collided. Kaman was in an accident and his car blew up."

"There's your gas accelerant."

"He was hit by Tommy."

"There's your revenge," you say. "I bet Tommy walked away without a scratch and Kaman suffers third-degree burns, has a boatload of skin grafts, was in a coma for a couple of months, and lost his apartment."

"Tony Torrell was his landlord."

"We were right. He has a revenge list," Rossi says.

"What about family, friends, and acquaintances?"

"No, Kaman is a lone wolf, and his address just came up. Big bad lives at 5923 Mills Ave."

x

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[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 7: It'll Be Nice to Feel Wanted for a Change

You and Joel decide your next steps. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 6, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

^I keep using Pedro gifs instead of Joel gifs because Joel is such a baby in this fic I'm sorry 😭

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Diet culture type language. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 7.3K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Told you, I have connections.” 

Joel rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, watching as the kids on the soccer field changed directions. 

“Still feel like business school is overkill,” he said, putting the travel mug in the cupholder of his folding chair. “Especially at this point… GET ‘EM BABY GIRL!” 

Sarah stole the ball from a girl on the other team and dodged another girl before starting to charge up field, a serious look on her face.

“GO SARAH!” You jumped up and screamed, cupping your hands around your mouth. Sarah got pinned down and looked around before passing the ball, sending the it between two defenders to another player. Her teammate got the ball and sent it careening toward the goal before the other team could change direction. It sailed in and Joel leapt to his feet, the two of you jumping and clapping. “HECK YEAH!” 

Sarah beamed at the two of you before she went to hug the girl who scored. You and Joel sat back down as play started back up. The coffee had spilled some in his excitement, the fabric arm of the chair wet. 

“Now is the time to do the business school thing,” you said as you leaned forward on your thighs, watching the game intently, your hands clasped together and tucked between your knees. “And besides, it’s not actual business school. It’s… business school light. Enough to help you draw up a business plan and that kind of shi…stuff. The kind of stuff that you’ll need if you need to take out money from the bank to get started.” 

Joel sighed. He knew you were right, he just wasn’t crazy about the idea. 

After you’d had dinner - and nearly devolved into an argument that, in hindsight, Joel really was not ready to have no matter how hard he was pushing for it - the two of you had gone back and forth about what to do next. 

Your call shouldn’t have surprised him. You’d always been an academic sort of person, the fact that you’d gotten into some fancy college had come as no surprise to Joel. Of course your first idea involved formal education. 

You reached out to a friend of a friend at the business school and got some of his recorded lectures from the era of virtual classes during COVID. He was happy to share them once you explained it, compiling some lectures, notes and guides for Joel to use. 

Joel felt bad about putting some stranger out like that but you said he was happy to do it in exchange for an autographed copy of your book. 

“I know, it’s crazy,” you’d teased when he looked at you in disbelief. “Should have let me draw on your face that one time, think of how valuable it’d be now…” 

Joel just snorted and shook his head. 

“Get in there!” 

You were on your feet again, watching as Sarah tackled the ball away from another girl. You screamed and jumped when she succeeded and Sarah smiled as she clambered back to her feet. 

“Good job, kiddo!” Joel called, still seated but smiling. You got really into Sarah’s games, Joel had quickly learned. He wasn’t about to admit it to you, but he loved it. It reminded him of when you were both in high school, when you’d watch from the front row of the stands during football games, screaming so loud that he could hear you over everyone else at the game. You drew his number on your cheek and bleached it onto a t-shirt. You’d even made Tommy a matching one, something the 10-year-old had taken as a profession of undying love and devotion back then. 

The next time you were at the house after giving him the shirt, Tommy sauntered through the kitchen where you and Joel were having a snack, topless, drenched in cologne and hair slicked back. Joel watched you try not to laugh as Tommy leaned on the table in front of you, giving you a cocky smile. 

“Hey Goldie,” he said, his voice artificially deep. Joel choked on his Coke and covered it with a cough. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Really?” You asked, brows raised. “Even though I’m here every Saturday afternoon?” 

His smile faltered. 

“Well… uh…” his eyes darted to Joel, like he was looking for help. Joel just held up his hands. “Just… didn’t expect you to be here looking so good.” 

“Oh,” Joel could see the edges of your lips pulling up. “So I don’t normally look good? Darn…” 

“No, wait…” he stood up from the table, eyes darting to Joel again. “I don’t… you…” 

“Don’t you have a matchbox car to crash or something?” Joel asked. “Stop tryin’ to pick up my girl, little man.” 

“Fuck off,” Tommy muttered before stomping back off toward his room. 

“I’ll tell mom you said that,” Joel leaned forward and watched his little brother go. 

“So I’m your girl now?” You teased once he was out of ear shot. “News to me. And be nice to him, he’s just a kid and he’s a sweetheart.” 

“He thinks he’s Don Juanito is what he is,” Joel muttered, sitting back in his seat and taking a sip of his Coke. “You being my girl might be the only way he leaves you alone.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled a little anyway. 

“All this trouble because I wanted to support my best friend as he fucked up in the red zone…” 

“I’ll tell my mom on your language, too,” he said. “Don’t think she won’t smack you upside your head just because she didn’t birth you. You’re her favorite kid, but don’t push it.” 

Tommy had, thankfully, gotten over his crush on you. A fact that Joel was endlessly thankful for now that his part in helping you complete your list included finding you a fucking date. 

There was a guy on his team at work he thought would at least be something besides a total waste of time. Blake was a decent man, one of the few on the site who didn’t say disgusting shit about women the second they believed they were among other assholes who thought the same way. Joel had caught him reading once on his lunch break, something that he was sure would be important to you. You’d want someone who read. Joel should read more. 

Blake, Joel thought, would be a decent enough guy to set you up with. Not good enough for you - no one was good enough for you - but at least a damn improvement over fucking Brad. 

He just hoped it wouldn’t stick. 

Not that he wanted you to be alone. He didn’t. He wanted you to be happy. More than almost anything else he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to have whatever it took to make that happen. But he wasn’t sure how he’d get past working with someone he knew got to kiss you, touch you, fuck you. He’d hear about dates with you and things you enjoyed with a boyfriend and not just your friend. He’d have to hear all about what someone else was doing for you because he couldn’t. 

Which was fine. Should be fine. You were his friend, you’d always been his friend. He could love you as a friend, he did love you as a friend, he could get past the other shit. He could. 

And if Blake ever decided to try to talk about you the way some of the other assholes they worked with talked about their girlfriends then, well, at least Joel could fucking deck him for it. 

“She’s killing it out there,” you settled back into your folding chair and glanced over at Joel. 

“She always does,” Joel nodded. “She’s got skills, that girl.” 

“She seems to really like it, too,” you said, eyes back on Sarah. “Which is the important thing. If she’s good enough, she could get scholarships and shit. But that really only matters if she also likes it, there’s no use in her being miserable because of the demands of being a student athlete because she happens to be good a sport she doesn’t enjoy…” 

“She loves it,” Joel said. “And, honestly, I’m hopin’ that sticks and that she can get a scholarship, lord knows I can’t afford to shell out for college…” 

“You can’t now,” you corrected him good naturedly. “But once you become Joel Miller: Entrepreneur and man about town, that’s another story.” 

Joel scoffed. 

“What?” You asked. 

“You’ve just got a lot more faith in me than I do.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to?” You asked, looking at him again. “You’re my person so that’s part of my my job. Recognizing your potential.” 

“See, just the fact that you think I have potential to recognize…” 

“Oh shut up,” you swatted his arm and he laughed a little, watching you watch his daughter run back up the field. 

No, Blake didn’t deserve you. No one did. Least of all Joel. 

Sarah’s team won the game and she was beaming when she ran over to you and Joel after the post-game huddle. 

“Did you see that one steal I did?” She asked, leaning between the front seats of the truck. “It was so cool, I almost missed it but then I got it to Sophie and she was able to score and it was so COOL!” 

“Seatbelt,” Joel said. Sarah rolled her eyes but flopped back into her seat and buckled up, anyway. “Thank you. And yes, we saw, Baby Girl! You kicked ass out there.” 

“Can ass kickers pick lunch?” She asked. 

“Ass kickers can pick lunch,” Joel said. “But ass kickers can’t say ass until they’re at least 13, sorry kiddo.” 

“Aw man,” she huffed but then smiled. “I’m gonna swear so much on my 13th birthday…” 

“Yeah I bet you are,” he shook is head and caught you trying not to laugh out of the corner of his eye. “Alright, kiddo, where for lunch?” 

Joel watched her in the rearview mirror, a serious look on her face as she considered her options. 

“Dairy Queen,” she said eventually, nodding seriously. “Because then I can get a Blizzard.” 

“Whatever the ass kicker demands,” Joel said. 

Sarah ordered a burger with her blizzard before going to find a table. Joel got the steak fingers and a shake and you just stood there, staring up at the menu board with a slight frown on your face. 

“What?” Joel asked. “C’mon, it’s a limited menu, can’t be that hard.” 

“It’s just been forever since I’ve been to a DQ,” you said absently. “Not sure what to really get…” 

“Goldie,” he said, voice serious. You looked at him, frowning. “We both know what you get at Dairy Queen.” 

“Yeah, when I was a teenager,” you looked back up at the menu. “Little different now…” 

“Not gonna find a salad up there,” he said. 

“Yeah, but…” 

“Remember how the number one thing on your list was finalize your divorce?” He asked. You looked at him again, brows raised. “Well, this is one part of that you can control. You can ditch all the stupid shit that asshole put in your head, starting with the idea that you can’t get chicken fingers every once in a while.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply, instead looking to the cashier. 

“She’ll do the chicken fingers basket,” Joel said. “With fries. And a medium Reese’s Blizzard.” 

“Small,” you corrected him. 

“Medium,” he said, looking over at you. “Because we both know I want to eat half of it.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Medium,” you said. 

“Alright,” he said, going to pay. 

When the food came out, he took one of your chicken fingers and your eyes went wide. 

“Hey!” 

“Oh sit tight,” he rolled his eyes and dropped one of his steak fingers in your basket. 

“What makes you think I want one of your steak fingers?” You asked, incredulous. 

“You always want one of my steak fingers,” he said. “Every time.” 

You glared at him for a second. 

“Shut up.” 

Joel laughed before dropping an onion ring in your basket and swiping a few fries. 

“So you guys really hung out all the time before, huh?” Sarah said, eating a fry and watching the two of you from across the table. 

“We did,” you smiled at Joel before looking back at Sarah. “We basically lived together, probably drove our moms crazy…” 

“Your mom, maybe,” Joel teased. “Mine loved havin’ you around all the time. Said you were a good influence.” 

“Because I was,” you teased back. 

“So,” Sarah watched you both closely. “Why didn’t I meet you until now? I mean, I met other friends of my dad’s. Did you guys have a fight or something?” 

The two of you looked at each other for a second. How the fuck was Joel supposed to explain this to his kid? Yeah, we were friends, and then the two of us decided to have sex and then just stop talking for a decade and a half? Not quite age appropriate. 

“Well,” you said, dipping one of your fries in your Blizzard before popping it in your mouth. 

“You’re so gross,” Joel said and you rolled your eyes and elbowed him in the side. 

“Shove it,” you smiled a little and looked back to Sarah. “We finished high school and I had to move for college and we just kind of stopped talking quite as much, we didn’t do a great job of keeping in touch. We were busy, it just kind of happens when you’re a grown up.” 

Sarah crinkled her nose. 

“That’s dumb,” she said. 

“You’re right,” you smiled a little, looking at Joel. “But adults do dumb things sometimes.” 

Sarah nodded slowly, taking a fry and dipping it in her Oreo Blizzard before taking a hesitant bite and chewing thoughtfully. She frowned for a moment before her eyes lit up and she dipped the fry again. 

Joel groaned. 

“Not you, too…” 

“Just gotta get on the French fries in ice cream train, Miller,” you smiled smugly. “Sweet, savory? It’s the best.” 

“She’s right, Dad,” Sarah said, dipping another fry. “This is better than ketchup.” 

“I’m surrounded by weirdos,” Joel muttered but he couldn’t help smiling a little to himself, watching you and his daughter together, a strange pull at the base of his chest at the sight. This, he thought, was how it was supposed to be. You were meant to be with the two of them, it was obvious. It was almost strange, how clearly he fit with you. He hadn’t felt like there was something distinctly missing over the last decade. He’d gone about his life, raising his daughter, trying to get ahead at work. He bought a house, kept his brother’s nose clean, buried his mother. There had been no distinct sense of absence. He thought of you often - every day, really - and it hurt but it was a dulled pain, a longing for what he had before. He hadn’t known what he’d really been missing, the way things would be with you at the stage of life you were both in now. 

But now that he had you here, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed this gaping hole at the center of his reality before. There would be no excising you from him now, it wouldn’t work, the ragged edges of your absence would be too clear in everything he did. 

He’d just have to do whatever it took to keep you in his life. Even if that meant setting you up with some guy from work. 

“So Sarah,” you said, ripping your chicken finger in half and reaching over to dip it in the gravy in Joel’s basket. 

“Hey!” 

You ignored him. 

“Do you think you can do me a favor?” You continued, eating the chicken tender. 

“Sure,” she shrugged. “What do you need?” 

“Well,” you said, brushing your hands free of crumbs before taking a sip of your drink. “I was thinking about getting a cat but I have no idea how to pick a cat. Do you think you could come with me to the shelter and help me look? Just make sure I’m finding the right one?” 

Her eyes lit up and she looked at Joel. 

“Can I Dad?” She begged. “Please? I love cats, they’re so cute, and…” 

Joel laughed, draping his arm over the bench behind you. You’d already talked with him about this, seeing if Sarah wanted to go to the animal shelter this afternoon. He knew she’d love it.

“Well,” he sighed, pretending to consider it. “If you promise to behave this week…” 

“I will!” 

“And do all your homework the first time I ask,” he said. 

“Deal!” 

“Then alright,” he conceded. “We can go with Aunt Goldie to pick a cat.” 

“Yes!” She punched the air in victory and Joel smiled and shook his head, settling back in the booth with his shake in his hand. 

The three of you went back to Joel’s and gave Sarah a chance to get cleaned up before heading to the shelter to look at cats. Sarah took over the radio in the car and insisted on playing Taylor Swift and you learned the chorus to one of the songs she was belting in the back seat, singing along the last time through, windows rolled down, your hand tapping out the rhythm of the song on the outside of the door. 

“So what kind of cat do you want?” Sarah asked, turning to face you and Joel as she walked backwards down the row of cages. 

“I don’t really know,” you shrugged. “Never really had a pet. One that wants to sit on my lap and purr?” 

“See what not having a pet as a kid does to you, Dad?” Sarah said, looking at Joel with wide eyes. “Leaves you totally unprepared for picking a pet later in life. I should get a cat, too, while we’re here.” 

“No,” he said. “Watch where you’re walkin’.” 

She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically but obeyed, leading the way through the cages. 

“Oh, look at this one!” She stopped in front of a cage and laced her fingers through the bars, a black and white cat on the other side of it watching her from the back corner. “She’s so pretty!” 

Joel stood at your back as you paused, looking at the cat for a moment. 

“She is pretty,” you said. “But I want to see all of them first before I see if there are any we want to really meet.” 

Sarah stopped outside of a gray and white tabby’s cage, the cat rubbing its face over the bars. 

“Aw!” She reached a finger out and brushed along its cheek. “She’s so cute! And she seems so sweet!” 

“She does,” you agreed, reaching around Sarah to give the cat a haphazard pet. 

“Dad!” Sarah looked back over her shoulder at him. “Her name is Swiftie! She’s perfect!” 

“We’re not here for us, Baby Girl,” Joel said. “C’mon, more cats to see, don’t get attached.” 

“Well we have to meet that one now,” you said, looking at Joel and very clearly trying not to smile. “It’s required.” 

“It’s really not,” he replied. “God, you’re such a bad influence…” 

“Nah,” you replied. “I’m just always right, you should get used to it.” 

You found another cat you really wanted to meet, an orange striped one who stood on his hind legs in his cage and reached a paw through the bars while meowing loudly for attention. 

“Alright, Baby Girl,” Joel sighed, hands in his pockets. “Why don’t you go find someone who works here, see if we can meet some of these guys…” 

She squealed before running out to find someone, Joel watching her go before turning his attention back to you.

“You’re never gonna have another moment’s peace with that thing in your house,” he said, watching as you reached your fingers through the bars and scratched its head as it purred loudly, arching into your touch. 

“That’s alright,” you smiled, watching the cat. “It’ll be nice to feel wanted for a change. Totally worth it.” 

Joel just looked at you for a moment, an odd twinge in him. Maybe you were lonelier than he realized. Maybe things had been worse with your fucking ex than he’d known. Maybe you didn’t understand that he wanted you. In so many fucking ways, he wanted you. 

He just had no idea how to say that to you, not without fucking up everything else.

“Hi there,” a woman with a name tag walked up, Sarah at her side, before Joel had a chance to say anything at all. “I hear you want to see some cats?” 

You told her the ones you wanted to see and the woman led you to a small room with a bench and some cat toys before going to get the first cat. 

Joel should really have known what was going to happen after that. The three of you settled on the floor, you and Joel sitting beside each other, backs against the cinderblock wall, letting cats climb over your legs and throwing little bell-filled balls for them to chase as Sarah pulled a feather on a string across the floor. You were already attached to the orange cat but Sarah was obviously in love with the gray one. Joel sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, watching as his daughter held the little cat on her lap, talking to it all soft and gentle. 

“I really should’ve known better than to do this,” he muttered and you laughed a little, leaning your head on his shoulder and watching Sarah, too. “Jesus…” 

“At least it’s a cat and not a dog,” you patted his thigh twice before letting your hand rest there near his knee. His heart beat faster. “Could be worse.” 

“So,” the woman came back in, carefully closing the door before the cat on Sarah’s lap could escape. But it didn’t look like there was any risk of it, the little thing seemingly content to stay there for the rest of time. “What are we thinking?” 

“Please, Dad?” Sarah looked at him, her eyes so wide. “I’ll do all the work, I promise. I’ll clean the litter box every day and I’ll feed her and play with her and…” 

Joel sighed. 

“You’d gotta actually do it, Baby Girl,” he said. “I mean it.” 

“I will!” She said, holding the cat close. “I promise!” 

He sighed again. 

“Alright, we’ll take that one…” 

“Fantastic,” the woman smiled. “I’ll start the paperwork…” 

“Oh, and I’m going to get Garfield, the orange one,” you said as she turned to leave. “But I’ll be changing his name…” 

“That’s great,” she said. “But we will have to check and make sure the cats are compatible before we send you home with two…” 

“No,” you laughed. “No, sorry, no, we don’t live together. He’ll be coming with me and this one will be going with them.” 

“Oh!” She laughed back. “I’m so sorry, I just thought you two were married. I’ll get started on the paperwork for both, I’ll be right back.” 

Joel watched the woman go and glanced at Sarah to make sure she was still totally absorbed with the cat on her lap before lowering his voice. 

“Could have denied that a little harder, I think…” 

He practically heard you roll your eyes. 

“What, did you want to see if we could save on adoption fees by filling out one set of paperwork?” You asked. 

“Always said we’d make good roommates,” he replied. “Seems a good a reason as any.”

You scoffed. 

“Yeah, sure,” you said.

“What?” He said, turning his head just enough to see you, still leaning against him. “I’m serious. You really tellin’ me that the idea of living with me is that terrifying?” 

“The inevitable fallout is terrifying, yeah,” you said. 

“Here we go,” the woman came back in with two clipboards and you lifted your head from Joel’s shoulder. “Once you fill this out and pay your deposit, we can run a few checks and you can come back in a few days for your new best friends!” 

“Ah, the truth comes out,” Joel smirked a little as he started completing the paperwork. “You were looking to replace me the whole time…” 

“Well clearly yes,” you said absently, working on your own documents. “Furry, loud, opinionated… You’re basically twins, why do I need you to keep coming over when I’ll have Puck?” 

“Puck?” Joel frowned. “Like hockey puck?” 

“Puck like the fairy from Midsummer,” you replied. Joel must have still looked confused because when you looked over at him, you rolled your eyes. “The mischievous one from Midsummer Night’s Dream? The Shakespeare play? I know you read it, we had to read it sophomore year…” 

“C’mon Dad,” Sarah looked up from the cat in her lap. “Even I know that one.” 

“Alright, well,” Joel said. “You two are the smartest people I know, not fair to judge me by that standard…” 

Joel caught a glimpse of you smiling out of the corner of his eye as he finished the paperwork. 

*** 

“I have a question for you.” 

You opened your eyes to see Joel looking down to you, your head in his lap, his thumb brushing your temple in a soothing rhythm. It was late. Sarah had gone to bed hours before, worn out after her game and suckering her dad into adopting a cat and going to Target to pick out every toy under the sun for her new pet and yours. You were pretty sure you weren’t going home that night, too comfortable in your position against Joel.

“No,” you said, closing your eyes and settling into him and the couch again. “I can’t convince Sarah to give up the cat. My position as the cool aunt is too tenuous, I’m going to side exclusively with Sarah in all conflicts for the foreseeable future…” 

“I could just refuse to pick it up in a few days,” Joel mused. “Tell her the shelter denied our application because of my history as a cold hearted killer with no mercy.” 

“Ah yes,” you smiled a little. “I forgot, Joel Miller, heartless killing machine.” 

“Cold hearted,” he corrected. “Get it right.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” 

“But no,” he continued. “Not what I was going to ask.”

You opened one eye, looking up at him, trying not to think about how soft his eyes were. 

“Shoot,” you said, closing your eye again. 

“Was thinking about the lists…” he trailed off. 

“That wasn’t a question, Miller,” you said after a moment. 

“I’m gettin’ there, don’t rush me, woman.” 

You opened your eyes just enough to see him over you. His hand slipped around to cup the crown of your head. He was so handsome. There should be rules about that, there should be rules about men who are that beautiful. They should need licensing or something, they shouldn’t just be allowed to freely exist, endangering women everywhere. 

You closed your eyes again. 

“Take your time, Miller,” you said. “Not going anywhere.” 

“Anyway,” he said and you could hear his eye roll. His thumb stroked your hair. “Both our lists have relationship shit on ‘em…” 

His voice trailed off and your heart beat a little faster. 

“Yes?” You said when he didn’t continue. 

“Well, you were sayin’ you didn’t know how to do the whole… app thing.” 

“Right…” 

“What if…” he took a deep breath. “We tried going out together. You bring someone for me, I bring someone for you…” 

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t help it. You knew the kind of relationship you had with Joel, the kind of relationship you’d always had with Joel. He’d made it perfectly clear that anything beyond that was totally out of the question for him and you’d accepted that. It had taken a long time - and a failed marriage - but you accepted it. 

That didn’t make the concept of picking out a girlfriend for him sting any less. 

“Just… then you don’t have to fuck around on apps,” he said quickly when you didn’t reply. “And I don’t have to waste my time on someone who wouldn’t work in a million years because you’re doing my thinking for me…” 

“Instead of your dick?” You asked, opening your eyes. He smiled a little. Goddammit, him and his fucking dimple. 

“Exactly,” he said, cocking his head so it was more in line with yours. He looked a little uncertain, his eyes searching yours. “So… what do you think?” 

“Well,” you sighed. “Makes as much sense as anything else, I suppose…. When were you thinking?” 

“I did say we should move ‘get laid’ to the top of your list,” he smirked a little. “So maybe next weekend?” 

“Next weekend?” You sat up so fast that you almost smacked into his nose, your head spinning for a moment. Joel grabbed you to steady you as you twisted haphazardly to face him again, legs crossed in front of you. “Doesn’t that seem fast?” 

He looked at you, puzzled, as he turned to face you, too. 

“Goldie, you and fuckin’ Brad…” 

“Gale.” 

“…Split up a year ago. You gotta get back out there, it’s not fast.” 

“No, I mean,” you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking at him again. “Isn’t that a little fast to find someone for each other? I wouldn’t even know where to start…” 

There was something about the sheepish look on his face that made your eyes narrow. 

“What.” 

“I… might have someone in mind for you already,” he flinched as he said it. 

“Seriously?” 

“Look, I just don’t want you dating some random asshole, alright?” He said. “He’s a good guy, think you’d have at least some shit in common, feels like I could trust him with you…” 

“Gee, thanks,” you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m being serious!” He looked down at his lap for a moment, absently picking at a seam on his couch. “I worry about you. I know shit’s dangerous for women, alright? Much rather you be out with someone who I know isn’t gonna hurt you than some guy I don’t know that I can trust…” 

“Careful Miller,” you said wryly. “Someone might think you care about me or something.” 

“Well, can’t have that now can we,” he looked up to meet your eyes again, small smile on his face. “I’m already worrying about this shit with Sarah and she’s years off from dating. Outside of her, you’re the most important person in the world to me. Want to know you’re OK out there when I’m not with you. And I’m assuming that you wouldn’t want me to tag along on every damn date you have…” 

“Bold assumption.” 

He glared at you. 

“And this way I can know,” he said. “So yeah, alright, it’s crossed my mind.” 

“Have you talked to this guy?” You asked. “He might want nothing to do with me.” 

“I ain’t worried about that part,” he waved you off. “You’re you and he’s a smart guy, he’ll see what’s on the table. Much more worried about you conning someone into goin’ out with me…” 

“Oh ha ha,” you rolled your eyes. “Because you’ve ever had a problem landing women…” 

“The kind that stick?” He raised his brows. “Yeah, I have.” 

“Fair enough,” you sighed, thinking about the few people you knew in Austin. There was an adjunct professor in your department who you thought might be Joel’s type that you wouldn’t vomit at the thought of seeing him with. “I think I have someone who will go for it. Next weekend?” 

“Next weekend,” he confirmed and then laughed a little. “C’mon, don’t look so miserable about it. Whoever you end up with it’ll be better than fuckin’ Brad.” 

“Gale,” you corrected again and then slumped forward until your forehead was pressed into Joel’s shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms gently around you. “This sucks. I got married so I wouldn’t have to date anymore. This is bullshit, I want a refund.” 

He laughed once. 

“Don’t think that’s how it works, Goldie,” he said, giving you a little squeeze. “Refund part, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’d just like the best years of my life back.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment, one hand finding a gentle, easy path over your back. 

“Come on,” he said eventually. “You feel tired. Let’s get some sleep.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Assuming you mean here at this point?” 

He scoffed. 

“Ship sailed on you goin’ home hours ago,” he said. “I know who I’m dealing with.” 

“Yeah yeah.” 

You pulled away from him slowly and followed him up to his room. He loaned you a t-shirt and you got changed in his bathroom, taking your makeup off as best you could with the world’s most basic facial scrub and water before going to find him in bed. He was sitting up, his back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at you for a moment when you came in and looked back at his phone for a fraction of a second before looking back at you again, his mouth open slightly. 

You frowned. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’,” he said quickly, plugging his phone in and putting it face down on his nightstand. “Just forgot what shirt I gave you.” 

You looked down at it, a faded shirt from the Houston Space Center. You frowned for a moment.

“Was this from when we went when we were kids?” You laughed. “On a field trip?” 

“It is,” he said. “I wanted something that would fit as I was bulking up. Might have been a bit ambitious on the size…” 

“You’ll have to model it for me sometime,” you said, climbing into bed next to him. He turned out the lamp and you heard him lay down. You gave him a second to adjust before you slipped against his side, his arm gong around you. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead as your cheek found its place on his chest. 

“You’re sure about this dating thing?” You asked quietly into the dark. He was so warm next to you. Warm and big and firm and safe. You tried not to think about how desperately you wanted him to say no, in fact, he wasn’t sure. That all he was sure of was that he wanted you. 

He sighed instead. 

“Think so,” he said.”You really that worried about it?” 

You shrugged against him. 

“Goldie.” 

“Just…” you sighed. “I fucked up one marriage already. Why should I think I’ll get it right next time?” 

“You realize that shit isn’t all on you, right?” He asked. “I don’t even know what happened but… I can just about promise that it’s not all on you. Be surprised if any of it is. You gotta stop letting that asshole determine your whole life, Goldie. He’s not worth it.” 

“Yeah,” you said, moving closer to him. “You’re probably right.” 

Joel made sure both of you were up before Sarah in the morning, sparing you both from any of her prying questions, and you spent the morning with them before going home again and trying to write but getting nowhere. You wasted hours on an outline this time before hating the story so much that it made your stomach clench to even look at it. It was so pathetic, a lost woman clinging to a past lover so hard that she couldn’t chart a path forward, and you couldn’t seem to chart a way toward a satisfying end. You started a fire in your fireplace for the first time just so you could burn the paper you’d wasted on this one. You had a glass of wine as you watched the flames devour it, ash floating to the hearth like snow, white and dead. 

Part of it, you were sure, was the fact that you were dreading the idea of talking with Natalie, the adjunct you were going to try to set up with Joel. She’d like him. Of course she’d like him. It was Joel, everyone liked Joel, that was the problem. She’d like him and you’d have to sit there and watch him like her. Love her, eventually. If not her then someone else. You hadn’t been able to handle that when you were 18 and the fact that you were in your 30s now didn’t seem to have changed much. That’s part of why you’d done what you’d done after prom. A small part, perhaps, but a part. 

But you were a grown up now, no longer a girl trying to find her way through the maze of the adult reality you found yourself thrust into. Things were going to be different this time. 

They had to be. 

May 2008, the Tuesday after prom 

“Honey?” 

You could hear the frown in your mom’s voice as you stumbled to your bedroom. 

“That you?” 

You caught yourself on the door frame. Your head was still spinning, why was it still spinning? It felt like you were going to throw up. 

“Yeah,” you managed. “Just me.” 

“You’re home early,” she said, her voice closer. “No Joel today?” 

“No,” you said, hoping you sounded normal. “No Joel today.” 

“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “Hungry? I can make you something…” 

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just… tired. Going to lie down, I think.” 

You didn’t wait for a response, just going in your room and closing the door behind you. Your walls were covered in movie posters, the faces of strangers you felt like you knew through their films an odd comfort as you sat on the edge of your bed. 

It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.

That’s what he’d said. Anyone else. Anyone but you.

You weren’t sure how long you stared into space. How were you supposed to face him now? How were you supposed to go back to your life now? 

You’d never been a particularly social person - writing all the time didn’t lend itself to vibrant friendships - but Joel had been your person for almost three years. He was who you had, who you told everything to, who you wanted to do everything with. Leaving him behind was going to be the hardest part of going away to school - so hard that part of you was still in denial that it would work that way at all. Part of you thought that he’d find some way to come with you over the summer and it’d be the two of you against the world the way it seemed like it always had been. 

But he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want you. 

I wish it were anyone else. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, your voice wet. 

Graduation was soon but it was still three weeks out. Three torturous weeks of being next to the person you loved most in the world when they didn’t love you, not really, not at all. 

You weren’t sure how long you stared at the wall when it occurred to you. 

You forced your body to move, joints stiff, and went to your computer, scrolling back through your email history to one from Dr. Gale Newton. An invitation to a summer creative writing workshop, one you’d decided to pass on because it meant leaving Joel months earlier. You hadn’t been ready for that before. You’d gone about checking with your counselor at school to see if it was even possible before deciding you weren’t ready for it. 

You were ready now. 

You called the number in his email signature and the phone rang twice before a woman answered. 

“Dr. Newton’s office,” she said. “This is Florence.” 

“Hi Florence,” you said, sniffing a bit, hoping it didn’t sound like you’d been crying. “Is… um… Is Dr. Newton available?” 

“I can check,” she said. “It’s a bit late in the day… Can I ask who’s calling and what this is about?” 

You gave her your name and told her that you were a candidate for the summer program. 

“Ah, right,” she said. “You were the one denial. Can’t say I remember that happening before! Let me see… yes, one moment, I’ll transfer you back.” 

It didn’t take long. Dr. Newton answered on the first ring, saying your name before you had a chance to say anything at all. 

“I was wondering if I’d get to speak with you directly,” he said. “I’ve never had a student turn down the intensive before.” 

“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” you said, voice trembling a little. “I thought I had some things I needed to finish up here before I moved but, as it turns out, I can come up sooner. I was wondering if my spot would still be available?” 

“Well,” he sighed. You could hear the rustle of pages on his end. “The program did already start and you are the only incoming freshman I invited - your online portfolio was quite impressive - I wouldn’t want you to fall behind. How soon could you be here?” 

“I could be there for the start of next week’s sessions,” you said. “And I can try to keep up with some work in the mean time if you want to email me some prompts or assignments…” 

“No, no need for that,” he said. You heard the click of a mouse. “I’m going back over some of your work now, I think this will work fine for what we’re doing next week. There’s a short story here, Golden Boy, that we can workshop alongside the fresh pieces for the coming sessions.” 

You quickly clicked over to the simple blog you’d made to showcase your writing for college applications. You scrolled past one of your senior portraits and bio at the top down to the work and found the story. You couldn’t remember if you’d put the whole piece up or just parts but it was the whole piece, one you’d written about Joel. 

It’d be better if it were anyone else.

Your chest got tight. 

“Perfect,” you said. “That’s great, thank you so, so much…” 

“I hope to see some more dedication out of you when you arrive here,” he said, voice a little more stern now. “I reviewed your portfolio personally and you show a lot of promise but so does every student who comes through this program. If you’re not willing to make sacrifices and work for it, I can’t help you hone that raw skill into what it has the potential to become.” 

“I understand,” you said quickly. “I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you think I need…” 

“I’m willing to work with you one on one,” he said. “Get you caught up over the next few weeks, both because you missed some of the intensive but because you haven’t had any classes here yet. It’s going to be a lot of time and a lot of effort but I’m happy to put in the work if you’re willing to do the same. I expect you to be devoted to this program, do you think you can do that?” 

“Yes sir,” you said. “Absolutely.” 

“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll email you my personal cell phone number, call me there when you get to town. I’ll make sure you get set up in your dorm and we can get to work. Sound good?” 

“Yes,” you said, your eyes falling on a picture of you and Joel laughing on his couch that glared at you from its place next to your computer monitor. You turned it to face the wall. “Yes it does.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: So we now know at least SOME of Bambi's side of the story. Not the whole of it yet but some!

What do you think? Teenaged overreaction? Totally makes sense? Neither? Both?

Also... I hope you caught that Gale had a picture of her before he met her and picked up on how much he'd selected her to be a pupil of particular interest from the get go. He's so slimy. Or, I hope he comes off that way, anyway. He's slimy in my head, at least!

Thank you, as always, for reading. I hope you're enjoying the ride as Joel and Goldie navigate their tangled friendship!

Love you!!!

[astorytotellyourfriends]

WIP word game

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

yes i'm aware i did this yesterday but then @cyraclove had to go and tag me again and now i'm gonna copy @ebongawk and do a mash-up of both words (dance and heart) so here i go 😝 dearthnc it is

D: "do me a favor," wayne said as he swung his cleaver down and severed the fish's head from its body and unceremoniously shoved it off of his cutting board and into a bucket, "go dump this abomination and then forget all about it, kiddo." (dredge au) E: Eddie Munson started working at the theater the same time Chrissy did—all of the employees did, what with the grand opening starting right after school let out and most of them being high school students—but she didn't know about it until towards the end of her first shift, when Eddie strolled right past the ticket booth without even looking at her. (starcourt cineplex au) A: As often as Eddie stares at the retreating forms of cheerleaders, he can't identify this one from her naked back, no matter how badly he wants to. Even her hair isn't that much help, given he can't really tell what color it is when it's wet. (voyeurism 2.0) R: "Ready for the next leg of our intrepid journey?" Eddie asks, distracting her from her own thoughts after clicking her seatbelt into place. (roadtrip au) T: The hours she's spent at cheerleading practice do tend to fly by, but somehow that doesn't seem right for what Eddie's talking about. The only thing that seems sort of close that Chrissy can remember is when she was a child and would spend hours upon hours coloring on any scrap of paper she could get her hands on. (lock-in au) H: He stirs a little once he's on the mattress, rubbing his fist over his face and squirming but ultimately staying fast asleep. Chrissy breathes a slow sigh of relief and watches him for a minute or two before turning away. (married hellcheer one shot) N: Now that she's somewhat acclimated to the temperature inside the building, her multitude of layers are definitely overkill. (jury duty au) C: Chrissy sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and tucks her hands behind her back, digging her nails into the flesh of her wrist. Maybe a little bit of pain will keep her distracted until Eddie's finished talking, prevent her mind from wandering any further down the dark path of temptation. (youth pastor au)

and no i'm not gonna perpetuate this cycle any longer so no tags and no new word goodbye love u

[creativecupcake]

Shani’s Magical Adventure in Twisted Wonderland

Hey guys. It’s my first time writing in a while, but I had so much fun with this. I wanted to say thank you to @sweetbunpura for letting me gush about my OC and giving me some confidence to get back to writing. Hope you guys enjoy! :D Any questions about my OC/this AU of Twst welcome. It’s so fun getting to talk with others.

If there was one word to describe Divus Crewel at this moment, it was vexed. Crowley was usually a rather flighty headmage, but he had run off at the beginning of the orientation ceremony, leaving only the house wardens to do all the work. One of them had sent a student to gather him to take care of the gates while the house wardens led the students in the sorting. Crewel shook his head thinking of his students having to take over for their irresponsible headmage.

Crewel’s aggravated thoughts were cut short when he heard a soft knock come from behind some of the discarded gates. Had someone been forgotten? He began to shift the empty coffins he came across an odd site. A small gate, no higher than the top of his knee. Had a dwarf or some other smaller species joined them this year? Divus quickly unlocked the door, knowing some students may begin panicking after being trapped in their gates. As the door fell away Crewel’s eyes flew open in shock. Crowley had some explaining to do, and his explanation had better be good.

The mirror hall was in utter chaos. Freshmen running around to avoid the fire spitting monster, two of the house wardens trying to catch the beast, and multiple items (and one Kalim) on fire. After finally catching the dire beast the headmage began shouting at the magicless boy at the center of the room. Everyone was so focused on the situation that they didn’t hear the large doors open, until the raven’s squawking was cut off by-

“Pom-Pom Plushie!” A small voice called out, and with a poof of smoke both the headmage and beast were replaced with marketable plushies. Silence took over the crowd.

“I believe that may have been overkill, pup.” Crewel’s voice cut through the silence, bringing all attention to the teacher and…was that a kid!?

”But you said the bird man is a mean dummy, and he was yelling at the others,” the little girl said, stepping out from behind Crewel’s legs. Not only had they gotten a magicless student, but her robes were a clear sign that the mirror had called a small child. 

“Crewel-sensei, what is the meaning of this?” Vil asked, stepping around the plushies that everyone seemed to be ignoring. 

Crewel let out an aggravated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That is what I would like to know, Schoenheit.” Crewel glanced away hearing Kalim’s cheery voice thanking the ‘sweet girl’ for putting out the fire on his robes, at least she was being helpful. “Since the headmage abandoned his place of double checking all of the gates, I was called to step in. I found her gate hidden behind a pile. But what really interests me was the school’s seal decorating the lid of her coffin, something only the headmage should have.” Crewel’s gore returned to the plush of said man laying on the ground. “Pup?” He called out, looking for her to release her spell, though he was tempted to keep him this way-the silence was a blessing.

“You may want to keep a closer eye on your cub,” Leona grumbled, tail twitching and swishing through the air. Everyone glanced over to see the little girl trying to catch the poor beastman’s tail. Many were surprised with how silently she moved, her stance looking like a kitten with a toy.

“My, my, Leona, it seems you have a shadow,” Azul teased, watching the beastman scowl and try to avoid the little girl’s grasp. 

“So much energy,” a dreary voice droned over a floating tablet. 

“But she’s so nice,” Kalim chimed in, as he and Riddle joined the group. Crewel smirked as the girl seemed to be getting ready to chase Leona, she was a resilient little thing.

”Pup, would you come here and introduce yourself?” 

“Okay!” Leona was spared as the child bound over to stand by Crewel.

Settling a hand on her shoulder, he made her face the group. “Now, pup. Be kind and introduce yourself to the housewardens.”

Bouncing in place, the girl gave the group a polite bow. “Hiya! My name is Shani! I’m four and I’m a magical girl!” 

Que the sound of static from Idia’s screen. He has now met a real life magical girl, like from his anime! Fanboy mode activated. 

“Well, at least the little one has manners,” Vil muttered, the others nodding in agreement. 

“Introductions for the others will have to wait,” Crewel interjected, wanting to wrap up for the night. “I’d like you to return the headmage to his normal form so that we can wrap up and get everyone settled for the night.”  Crewel would like to deal with her situation immediately, but he knew Crowley would try to procrastinate as long as possible. At least with tomorrow he would have Trein, Vargas, and Sam as back up to make Crowley work.

“Well this is an interesting situation,” a new voice cut through the group, eyes shifting to meet the face of Lilia. “I came to see if Malleus had been invited but I find a little one instead.” Many of the housewardens looked away, coming up with some excuse. 

“Like we need to take care of that Lizard,” Leona huffed, only to feel a small hand smack his leg. 

”That’s rude! Don’ be mean!” Shani chastised the group, earning a large smile from Lillia. Malleus would be more than pleased to see such a tiny being defending his honor.

“Miss Shani, would you please turn the headmage back so that we can get everyone to bed?” Crewel cut in, trying to get things back on track. 

Shani looked at the plushie on the floor with a face that looked like she smelled something bad (oh the housewardens could relate to that). “Ok, but you haveta take care of him,” she sighed, pulling what looked like a small flower-shaped purse out from below her robes. “Pom-Pom Plushie!”

With another flash of light and puff of smoke Crowley laid on the floor, utterly startled and trying to gain his bearings.

“Why would you leave me on the floor!” He cried dramatically in Crewel’s face, going on about how he heard everything in his soft and squishy form and how offended he was, blah, blah, blah. 

Shani didn’t want to listen to the funny man go on and on. Toddling around she made her way over to the ‘magicless’ boy that Crowley had been yelling at before she had come. “Hi! I’m Shani, was your name?”

The boy seemed to be taken aback, looking down at the girl. “Um, I’m Yuuken Enma, nice to meet you?” 

“Oh! Nice to meetcha Yuu-yuu! Are you Japanese? My cousin’s boyfriend is Japanese and his name is Yuuta! He’s so cool-” Yuu tuned the girl out a little, nodding along with her ramble. He was starting to feel less and less like this was a dream, but at least this girl seemed to know some things about his home. It felt like he had a little tether to reality in all this magical insanity. The duo was interrupted as students began filing out of the room, housewardens calling for their dorms. Crowley, Crewel, and Lilia walked out to the two earthlings. 

“Miss Shani, Lilia has volunteered to house you in Diasomnia for the night. The staff and I will look into your situation in the morning!” Shani and Yuu both turned to Crewel, already knowing he was the more responsible of the two. He nodded and Shani skipped over to the fae.

“Bye bye Yuu-kun!” Shani waved, Lilia happily picking the girl up and walking out of the room. 

“Now, Yuuken, step in front of the mirror so we can send you home.”

Lilia hummed as he escorted the freshmen back to the dorm, the familiar weight of a child in his arms seeming to lighten his mood. Shani was more than happy to be carried, pointing out items around the school and asking questions. Lilia was more than happy to give answers, especially since most of the first years seemed interested in the little girl’s questions. Lilia also couldn’t help but chuckle feeling the glare of a certain first year, more than likely aimed at the child in his arms. 

Upon entering the dorm he instructed the students to their rooms, asking some of the second and third years to aid if they had any questions. Placing Shani down, he grabbed her hand and made his way to the lounge, where he knew a very grumpy dragon would be. 

“I knew I would find you pouting here,” Lilia teased, releasing the child’s hand knowing that Sebek was behind him and Silver was asleep on one of the couches. “And to think I brought you a surprise.” 

“I’m not pouting, Lilia.” Malleus argued, turning to the shorter fae. “And what have you brought? I don’t see anything with you.” At that Lilia looked down at his side in shock, and Sebek called out that the small one had disappeared. Well, well, this little one was a sneaky one, Lilia thought with a smile.

The attention of the room shifted back to Malleus as he seemed to jump in his seat. Looking down at his lap he saw a small child, her hands placed on his knees as she glanced up at him with wide innocent eyes. (Que Sebek screaming about Waka-sama.)

”Pretty,” the girl cooed. Though her words were soft they seemed to cut through the tension that had been consuming the dorm.

Malleus blinked in shock, he had never been so openly approached, especially not by a child. Slowly he seemed to come back to himself as he blinked at the girl. Al he could get out in his shock was, “Do you mean me?” 

Shani seemed to get a large burst of energy, a bright smile illuminating his face. “Yeah! You are SO pretty! Are you a prince or something?” With child-like innocence she began rambling questions and observations about the dragon fae. Lilia chuckled, holding Sebek back from breaking the scene up. Even Silver was awakened but the sudden energy in the room.

Malleus was fighting to hold back the smile on his face. The innocence and excitement before him was something new. He felt so welcomed and warm in the girl’s presence. He couldn’t help a small laugh as she seemed to pause to catch her breath. “Well young one, I am Malleus Draconia, crown prince of Briar Valley.” Shani giggled at his princely tone and older manner of acting. 

Stepping back she pulled her robes up in a curtsy, meeting Malleus’s energy with a deep bow and a mess of giggles. “My name is Shani Fleur Alarie! Princess of Phoenix and Magical Girl and protector of humans! Do you want to be friends?” That caught the whole room off guard, a swift silence taking over them all as everyone’s attention turned to the prince. 

All he could do was stare back at the genuine smile, beaming before him. He had wanted a friend for so long, and while a child was not what he was expecting, he felt his heart set aflame with affection as he took one of her hands in his. Getting up from the couch he knelt down in front of her, matching her height, his grin meeting her own. “I would love to be your friend, Flower Child.” Lilia felt so proud while the others remained silence at their prince’s words. Malleus had needed a genuine friend for so long, and the elder fae could sense that Shani would be a great source of happiness. 

“Yay! New friend! Oh you have pretty horns! Are you a dragon?” Shani began rambling anew, her energy only seeming to have grown. Seeming to have come to a great realization she let out a loud gasp, “You can be the dragon to my princess! Every princess needs a big tough dragon! We can fight knights together and have tea parties! Oh! I can bake us cookies and other yummy treats!” Lilia couldn’t hold Sebek back anymore as he rushed to the young girl and scolding her for trying to poison Waka-sama with sugary treats. Lilia knew though, this would be a good year with their new child companion, and he was ready to see how the school would change around her.

Shani looked around the corner as she snuck outside of the Diasomnia dorm. Lilia was preparing her a bath and night clothes so she needed to hurry and sneak her new friend ou of her robe. Placing a grey cat plush on the ground she released her plushie spell. 

“About time henchman! My poor cute flame ears disappear in that form!” Grim grumbled as he tried to fix his fur. 

“Sorry Grimmy,” she giggled, patting his head. “Lilia said that there’s a abandoned house on campus. If you hide there tonight we can sneak you into the school tomorrow!”

”Perfect plan, as expected of my henchmen.” Grim boasted, puffing out his chest. 

“All you have to do is go through the mirror to get back to the school. Then go to the main building, don’t go to the main exit, go to the exit to the east and there’s a spooky building not too far from the school.” 

“Nya-ha-ha! Perfectly done henchman! I expect food tomorrow. And we’ll show this school the power of Grim the Great!”

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Demigod On Earth - Steve Rogers x Reader (Christmas In New Asgard)

A/N: Okay so this is the christmas oneshot that I had planned to put out at Christmas but in the end wasn't in a place to, however I absolutely love this oneshot and timeline wise I couldn't leave it until next year so you're getting Christmas in January!

Summary: There's no better place to spend Christmas than in New Asgard

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Fluff! Minor Angst!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Christmas In New Asgard

Steve watched with an arched brow and amused expression as you fussed over JJ and his coat “Sweetheart, I think Bean has more than enough layers” he said as you tugged JJ’s hat down.

“Steve it is minus seven degrees Celsius out there, you might be okay being a capsicle again but I’m not letting JJ join you” you stated glaring up at him, still fussing with JJ’s warm layers.

“I just think you might be going a bit overkill, we’re getting straight into a warm car from here, then straight from the car to Thor’s cabin, he’s not going to be out in the cold for long” Steve pointed out as he gestured to the exit to the airport which he hoped you’d use soon.

You stood back up to your full height, hands on your hips “I’m just being precautious that’s all, what if the car breaks down” you reasoned.

“We’ll be fine” Steve reassured you “I just don’t think you need to be so precautious, I mean poor Scout can barely walk in these snow boots you got him” Steve added glancing down to Scout who looked very unimpressed.

Steve watched as you pinched your lips together, stopping yourself from smiling as you clearly recalled the first time you put them on Scout. It had been chaos like Scout was learning to walk all over again. At one point Scout decided jumping was easier than walking leading to Steve having to dive to catch the lamp and other things he nearly knocked over.

“He’s better now than he was before and I’d hate for him to get frostbite, golden retrievers aren’t built for this kinda cold” you reasoned.

“Okay but you’re not even wrapped up like we are” Steve pointed out gesturing to your much thinner coat.

“Do you have powers over the elements and the ability to make yourself warmer?” You stated arching a brow.

Steve had no response to that, his mouth opening and shutting and he tried to think of one. He was about to resign himself to the fact that he was absolutely losing this argument when JJ spoke.

“Mommy I’m hot” he whined tugging at his scarf to loosen it.

Your expression faulted and a victorious smile grew on Steve’s lips.

“Fine maybe it was a little overkill” you muttered as you crouched back down to help JJ “Is that better bean?” You asked once you removed his scarf and hat.

JJ smiled and nodded his head “Yep, are we going to Uncle Thor’s now?” 

“Yeah we are, c’mon we don’t want to be late” Steve nodded guiding everyone out of the airport finally.

It was about a 4-hour drive from the airport to New Asgard. Steve sat in the front talking to the taxi driver as he sipped on some much-needed coffee, you sat in the back with JJ and Scout. For the first couple hours, you kept JJ entertained by pointing out all the amazing views but it wasn’t long until JJ was fast asleep his head resting against your shoulder, mouth parted slightly, he looked the spitting image of Steve. 

Steve glanced over his shoulder at you, a soft smile on his lips as he looked at his snoozing son “You should try and get some sleep too, he kept you up most of the flight” Steve reminded you gently.

You shook your head as you stifled a yawn “No I’m okay, coffee should keep me going”

Steve gave you a knowing look, he’d bet fifty dollars that you’d be asleep in the next few minutes. Both of you had tried to get as much sleep as possible on the flight, flying overnight in an attempt to combat the jetlag. However, JJ was far too interested with the in flight entertainment to sleep which meant you and Steve were also periodically awake watching a movie or TV show with him.

“I’m fine” you reiterated as you shifted in your seat careful not to wake JJ. 

However when Steve glanced back over his shoulder again fifteen minutes later you were also fast asleep.  

You’d woken back up just as the taxi pulled into New Asgard. As much as you hated to admit it, having that two-hour nap did make you feel much more refreshed and awake. Valkyrie and Thor were stood waiting for you as the taxi pulled up outside Thor’s cabin, Thor with a massive smile on his face. 

“Sister! It’s so good to see you!” he boomed as he pulled you into a tight hug. 

You chuckled as you hugged him back “It’s good to see you too brother, looking much better too” You smiled, his figure pretty much back to how you once knew it. 

“Yes, the diet and training regime is working well” Thor grinned as he patted his now flat stomach “But I’m looking forward to indulging myself at Christmas” he winked. 

“Hi Uncle Thor!” JJ beamed as he looked up at his uncle. 

Thor’s jaw dropped dramatically “My goodness you’ve gotten so big!” he exclaimed lifting JJ up so he was at eye level “You’re almost taller than me” 

JJ giggled as he kicked his legs out “I’m not touching the ground uncle thor!” 

Thor gave him a quizzical look before looking down “Oh right you aren’t” he said as he put JJ back down and ruffled his hair “Ah yes much better” 

Valkyrie walked over and shook your hand “It’s great to see you your highness” she greeted with a smirk. 

“I don’t think I have that title now that you rule” you smirked back.

“It is what the people still call you and it is my honour” Valkyrie said gesturing outwards towards the town. 

“Fine, but I don’t need any special treatment” you relented, you looked around at the surrounding town taking in all the beautiful and magical Christmas decorations “I’m surprised to see it so Christmassy, I didn’t think Asgardians would celebrate it” you admitted. 

“Me neither but the people love it, though not part of our heritage or religion, it has been embraced as a time for family and goodwill” Valkyrie explained with a soft smile. 

“That is what it’s all about isn’t it” You smiled as you looked over your shoulder back at Steve and JJ who were talking with Thor. 

“Come, I want to show you what I’ve done with the place” Thor grinned proudly as he gestured back to his cabin “You even have your own room little one” he added nodding down to JJ who gasped with excitement. 

You and Steve exchanged a wary look before you said goodbye to Valkyrie and followed Thor inside. Neither of you had seen the state it was in during the 5 years that half the population went missing, but you’d heard detailed stories from Bruce and Rocket. While Rocket could easily overexaggerate, Bruce rarely did so you weren’t sure what you were expecting. 

However much to your relief when you stepped inside it wasn’t a bare cabin with food and bottles strewn around, it looked like a traditional Norwegian cabin with accents of Asgardian designed throughout. Frankly, it was beautiful. 

Thor took you all on a guided tour of his cabin, he pointed out the dog bed that he’d gotten specifically for Scout who instantly curled up and got himself comfortable. He then showed JJ to his room, explaining that it was the guest room which he decorated for JJ so he always had a room when he visited. The last room he showed you was the room you and Steve would be in. 

“This is Korg and Meik’s room but I hope you like it” Thor explained as he led you inside. 

“Where are they staying?” you asked.

“Visiting some of Korg’s long lost cousins back in New York, they’re called the Rockettes” Thor explained. 

“Oh um, I don’t think-” Steve started.

“I have a photo here” Thor continued, grabbing a frame from the side which had 3 female rock creatures in. 

“Oh… wow… okay… literal Rockettes” Steve muttered as he looked down at the photo. 

“I’ll let you guys settle in and then I can give you a tour of the town” Thor grinned before making his way out. 

You and Steve admired the room, there weren’t any posters hanging up but there was a lot of art made out of rocks and gemstones. One piece was even made out of bent-up scissors. As Steve made a move to put the luggage away you took the opportunity to check out the bed. You were expecting it to be rock solid but to your surprise, it felt like a cloud. 

“Oh god I don’t think I can move” you groaned.

“Uncomfy?” Steve asked as he walked over. 

“No, very, very comfy” you muttered grabbing his hand and pulling him down onto the bed next to you. 

Steve let out his own groan as he made himself comfortable “How does a literal rock have a better bed than us”. 

“I don’t know but if he doesn’t tell us, I’m taking this one” you decided, your eyes already drooping. 

“We can’t fall asleep” Steve yawned “We need to stay awake”

“I know” you sighed, your eyes completely shut “but how about 5 minutes”

“Yeah just 5 minutes” Steve mumbled “JJ and Thor can have some bonding time”

You just responded with a deep snore. 

The days leading up to Christmas were just as magical as you hoped they would be. You constantly had a warm smile on your face as you watched Thor and JJ spend quality time together, making up for all the time they missed. Not that you didn’t agree with Steve to shield JJ from Thor during those years, but you were glad it wasn't like that anymore.

They had snowball fights together, you helped JJ win by dumping a couple of feet worth of snow on top of them. JJ laughed hysterically as only Thor’s head remained above the snow making him look like a snowman.

Thor took you to all the different sights in New Asgard, showing JJ where his hammer remained. Thor’s face turned melancholy as he looked down at his old weapon. 

When you got back to the warmth of the cabin you all made gingerbread houses, Thor and JJ teaming up together against you and Steve. It was a pretty close competition but you had to give it to Thor and JJ, even if they had eaten most of it already.

That evening you all made the trek out into the wilderness to see the northern lights. Thor organising a sledge pulled by a couple of Asgardian Wolves. When you got there the sky was completely clear, the perfect conditions to see the lights.

“Can you make them appear?” Steve whispered when the sky remained dark.

You shook your head “They’re solar so not elemental, all I can really do is keep the sky clear” You sighed.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait much longer for the northern lights to appear. The look on JJ’s face when the sky turned a glorious shade of green and blue made the wait worth it. Thor lifted JJ up onto his shoulders so he could be even closer to the sky, while you stood back with Steve who had his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“It’s so beautiful” you whispered.

“Not as beautiful as you” Steve replied which earned a snort of laughter from you.

“So cheesy Rogers” you grinned up at him.

Steve gave you an equally cheesy grin before he dipped his head and captured your lips in a soft kiss. 

When the time came to return to the cabin, JJ protested not wanting to leave before the lights stopped but you could see the exhaustion clear on his face. So you promised that you’d come back out before going back home to Brooklyn but that he needed to get some sleep. He didn’t protest more and halfway home he was fast asleep.

Christmas Eve was then a relatively calm day considering the late night before. You all relaxed in Thor’s cabin, eating the gingerbread and watching movies. When it came to bedtime, Thor stopped everyone before they went.

“Here it’s the tradition to open presents today, however, I got special permission from Santa to wait until tomorrow, but he did drop these off” Thor said pulling out presents for all three of you.

JJ instantly started ripping into his present as you looked back over at Thor in surprise “Thor you didn’t have to” you said shaking your head gently.

“Just open it sister” Thor pressed gently.

You relented and opened up your present to find the softest set of plaid pyjamas inside. You looked over at Steve and JJ who also had their own matching sets.

“I’ve got some too, I thought it would be nice” Thor explained quietly to you so JJ wouldn’t hear.

“This is very sweet Thor thank you” You smiled softly as you hugged him “Right, c’mon Bean let's get you ready for bed so Santa can deliver the rest of your presents”

Christmas day was just as magical as the rest of your time in New Asgard. JJ could hardly contain his excitement as he woke you and Steve up and dragged you downstairs to open presents. 

You agreed that he could open his gifts from Santa before breakfast, which consisted of waffles shaped like Christmas trees before everyone else got to exchange presents. Since there was a limited amount of space to pack the presents you and Steve had agreed that you’d buy each other a gift in New Asgard instead. Steve got you a sweet braided bracelet while you got him a new tin with Asgardian runes on it to store all of his sketching pencils. 

You had hoped that maybe you’d be able to give him a second gift in the form of a positive test but you still hadn’t been lucky enough yet. You remained positive though, especially after your appointment with Dr Achebe back in October. Whenever it happened you knew it would be the right time.

“Now JJ” Thor started grabbing your attention “This present wasn’t on your list, but I hope you like it all the same” 

You and Steve exchanged a nervous glance. You had specifically told Thor to stick to the list you’d sent him knowing that his idea of a perfect gift would be a dagger or something of a similar ilk. 

“Thor,” you said in a quiet warning. 

He simply waved you off with a smile and gestured for JJ to open the present. You held onto Steve’s hand tightly as you sat forward ready to intercept if needed. 

As JJ opened the box his face lit up. Literally. A blue light was streaming from the box up onto JJ’s face.

You watched as JJ carefully pulled the item out of the box. It was a blue orb on a small wooden stand that emitted a gentle blue glow. Both you and Steve sat forward to get a better look, and as you did so you spotted something floating through the orb, like a fish but not a fish that you’d find here on Earth. 

“Is that a Hippocampus?” you muttered in amazement. 

“Yes, not a real one it’s simply a projection of one” Thor explained “There are other creatures that appear in there too, ones you’d find in Asgard, others from around the universe, I found a woman to enchant it so they’d appear”

“An enchanted nightlight” Steve said shaking his head in disbelief.

“I should be angry that you didn’t stick to the list but this is amazing Thor” you said barely able to tear your eyes away from the orb that held the creatures you used to see whenever you visited the lakes in Asgard “say Thank you to Uncle Thor” you gently prompted JJ. 

“Thank you Uncle Thor! It’s so cool!” JJ exclaimed. 

Once presents were all exchanged you sat down for Christmas dinner which was more like an Asgardian feast with far more food than the 4 of you could eat. Even Scout turned his nose up at scraps because he’d had too much. 

Needless to say, you were all pretty much in a food coma for the rest of the day. You curled up beside Steve, both of you fighting to stay awake but ultimately failing. 

You all ended the day by watching movies, one of which being Frozen 2 since you hadn’t watched it and Thor loved the Nordic elements in it. You were once again curled up beside Steve, and JJ sat next to Thor. 

You were absolutely loving the film but when it got to the song ‘The Next Right Thing’ you felt Steve stiffen next to you. As you listened to the lyrics you realised why, it perfectly encapsulated how he must have felt during those 5 years you were gone. A glance over at Thor confirmed that suspicion when you saw the look of sadness and guilt in his eyes. Guilt that he hadn’t done the next right thing. 

You gave Thor a small reassuring smile that you hoped conveyed that it was okay and you didn’t blame him for anything before turning back to Steve who had silver lining his eyes. You wrapped your arms around him tighter to remind him that you were back and never leaving again. He let out a shaky breath as he smiled gently back down at you, pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head. 

That night when you went to bed you and Steve held each other close. A reminder and promise that whatever happened you were lucky to be back together.

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[voidcat-senket]

“You have shit timing, you know that?” from the whump ask game!

okay but Davi what if I do hxh. "whomp" though not so much --------------------------

It's obviously not Killua's first time in a club- he's been slipping into places he wasn't supposed to be since infancy. And yet, it doesn't take much effort to make himself seem like a newbie; fidgeting, biting his lip, his gaze traveling the room over and over. He made himself pretty too- "you're always pretty," Alluka always laughs- so prettier then. Black eyeliner, glossy lips, grey sparkling nails, skin-tight lycra pants in shimmering almost-black and a leather harness that fits his exact proportions, fitted over an eye-catching, translucent electric-blue shirt that hints at see-through under the right light.

Technically, he's information gathering. Really, he's looking for a distraction from his life, short-lived by preference. Alluka kicked him out of their shared hotel room for 'climbing up the walls' and what he really needs is a physical outlet. Better not to fight anyone who would be even slightly matched with him, it'll attract the sort of attention they need to avoid. Dancing and destruction it is.

See, the thing is- Killua doesn't want to be an assassin. But killing? Killing is nothing to him. And frankly? There's something about cutting down a predator that feels good in a way he can't explain. To make a hunter become the hunted- if it's cliche it's because it's a common feeling. And there's something so delicious in taking someone who thinks they have just won a lovely little prize and to make them lose absolutely everything.

If they're monsters, Killua is a monster too. He's not under any impressions about that.

The base is heavy in his chest, rattling so loud it makes him short of breath, and he knows his cheeks are pink when he sidles up to the bar and orders something sticky, sweet and bright orange. He sets himself up by a tall table and drinks from a straw while he looks around the room. His hips move with the beat but subtly, matched to his bouncing head, like he's waiting for permission. It doesn't take long at all before someone joins him.

The man in question is probably twice Killua's age, wearing logoed clothes from head to toe and both a watch and chain that scream 'rich'- or it would to someone who didn't know better, but Killua could recognize a knockoff from a mile away. He's bald, too, and it looks good on him, but Killua wonders if it's because he's losing his hair.

Well. At least he didn't go for a toupee.

The man starts with "New, right?" His grin shows off two gold teeth. "I'd know if I'd seen you before." Killua supposes it's slightly better than the usual way he hears that line, purely because it's both more confident and more flattering that 'do you come here often?' though obviously not much more original. Killua smiles back, blushing (from the body heat here) and demure, looking at the man through his lashes.

"Yeah… I was supposed to come with friends but they kinda bailed on me." He bites his lip and shifts his weight, his gaze flicking away and back.

"Well. I better keep you company then." The man's smirk is downright lascivious as his eyes drag down Killua's form. "Shall I grab you a drink?"

"I have one."

"Surely you'll need another soon."

"Well if you insist."

"Oh but I do."

Hook line and sinker. He hardly had to do any work.

The night continues. It's not difficult to keep the man's attention, and he's being plied with drinks at a frightening speed. It's obvious the man has done this to unsuspecting people before, and Killua's not sure he's even convincing in faking drunkenness, but the man sure doesn't seem to notice. He 'goes to the bathroom' and watches the man slip something into his next drink with a snort. Overkill much? He stumbles over his own feet when he comes back and trips into the man on purpose.

As he's straightening up, the man's head slams into the wall so hard that it sticks there, and six different people scream.

Killua takes a deep sigh, his expression flattening. Annoyed. He was going to kill that man slowly and painfully, thank you. He was going to enjoy it. "You have shit timing, you know that?"

Gon frowns, his face melting into a childish pout.

He's gorgeous, though. As usual. "But Killua-"

"Never mind," he cuts his friend off. "How did you find me?"

"I smelled you outside," Gon grins, and Killua immediately flushes a dark red.

"And why did you knock out my prey?"

"He wanted to do something terrible to you, Killua."

"And? Who do you think I am? Do you think he would've succeeded?"

"Of course not, Killua! But I wasn't going to let him try. Forgive me?" The speed with which Gon goes from apologetic to angry and back makes him dizzy.

"Mmm." Killua smirks and takes a step closer. He reaches out to touch Gon- presses his palm against hard muscle, his mouth suddenly so dry. "Spar with me and I'll forgive you."

"I don't have any nen."

"So I won't use any," Killua purrs, and he already knows he likely won't be satisfied with just a fight.

[alwaysthebiggerbear]

Masks - Dean Winchester x Castiel

Summary: where the Winchesters are attempting to get lunch during the pandemic & Jack finally works up the courage to ask for a dog

A/N: So this was something I started after 15x18 aired, in order to challenge myself by using prompts to start writing again. I used the #6 (Mask) prompt for Suptober2020 from @winchester-reload. I never submitted it (it was written after the event was over) but I just wanted to try this one & give credit for the prompt. This is my first time ever writing for this fandom & these characters/this pairing. I know it's not very good but after how things ended, I feel a little more okay about sharing it. Any mistakes are mine since it's not beta'd/edited. This was inspired by a moment that happened between my grandparents while we were attempting to dine outdoors back in 2020. It was too cute not to try to bring in for one of my favorite fictional couples. Warnings: pandemic, COVID-times Word Count: 5169 First posted on here: 9/29/23

Dean, Cas, and Jack sat at the table, waiting for Sam to return with their food. 

Jack glanced around as they sat on the sidewalk, mournfully watching as people passed by, walking their dogs and keeping a good distance from the tables area. He was particularly aggrieved when a wheaten terrier puppy approached them excitedly and he grinned, reaching a hand out to pet the cute animal when the owner yanked on the leash, effectively pulling the puppy away while shooting a dark glare in Jack’s direction. He stared after them as they left, turning back to find Cas giving him a sad but understanding smile.

“I don’t understand,” Jack started. “I have my mask on.”

“People are scared, Jack. This...virus is something they don’t understand. They’re just being careful.”

Dean snorted from Cas’ left. “People are dicks.” At Cas’ exasperated look, Dean elaborated, “What, you’re telling me they couldn’t let the kid pet the dog for one damn second? Come on. I get it, they’re being safe, but that’s just overkill.”

Jack glanced back and forth between them, noticing Cas’ annoyed expression barely hidden beneath his mask in response to Dean’s unapologetic one. A small smile formed on his young face as he prepared to ask the question he had been wanting to ask for a while now. “Can we get a dog?”

Dean’s and Cas’ eyes both widened. 

Jack hurried to reassure them and explain. “It’s just, I’ve never had a pet. A dog, I mean,” he hurried to clarify, not mentioning the snake he had once taken in. No one spoke about Felix and what had followed after his brief time in the Winchester home. “And I like dogs. They’re furry...and nice.”

Cas exchanged knowing glances with Dean, and he quickly responded before the latter could. “Jack, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jack’s face began to fall as fast as the disappointment settled within his chest. They were still worried about what happened with Felix. “But...I have a soul now…”

Cas’ blue eyes saddened but before he could reassure his son, Dean spoke up. “Kid, that’s not what this is about.” Jack’s eyes snapped to his and though it was nearly difficult to see due to the mask on his face, he could imagine Dean’s restrained smile as he fought to explain. “With what we do, it wouldn’t work too well. We go out on hunts all the time and we can’t take it with us. Who would be there to walk it, to feed it? It would be stuck in the bunker all day long. That’s not a good life for a dog.” 

Jack, not expecting Dean’s response and seeing the slightest opening, jumped on the opportunity. He hadn’t realized this would be part of their reservations, their reluctance to let him have a pet. This he had an answer for. “But, I’ll take care of it. I’ll take it out for walks, and I’ll feed it when it’s hungry. I’ll play with it when it gets bored. I’ll stay with it when you guys go out on hunts. I could take it with me when I go out on mine. I’ll take it outside a lot. You won’t have to worry about anything, I promise.”

Dean leaned slightly forward. “I don’t know, Jack. What, are you going to keep it in the motel when you’re out hunting monsters? Come on, kid. That’s not a good plan.”

Jack nodded eagerly. “There’s lots of places that take dogs now.” 

“And if gets sick? Or hurt?”

“I’ll take it to the animal hospital.”

“And if there isn’t one?” Dean still wasn’t convinced.

“Every town has a veterinarian.” Jack had already looked up all of this information online a week ago when he had been in his room. He had just waited for the right time to ask.

“It would need to be housetrained if it’s not and that’s a lot of work, kid. You ready for that?”

Jack gave a resolute nod. “Yep.”

Cas glanced towards Dean whose eyes stayed fixated on Jack, assessing him. After a moment, Dean nodded before leaning back in his chair. “Okay.”

Jack was speechless, his grin so wide he was barely able to contain his excitement.

“Okay?” Cas asked, puzzled.

“Yeah.” Dean shrugged. “The kid wants a dog and he’s saying he’ll take care of it, I think we should give him the chance.”

“I will, I promise.” Jack was delighted. 

Dean lifted a finger. “But you better keep up your end of the deal, you got me? We’re talking cleaning up the hair, picking up the poop, keeping the dog off my car seats, bath time -- all of it.” At Jack’s happy nod, Dean shifted in his chair. “Alright, we’ll head to the nearest shelter and start looking so you better start thinking of names. And none of that crap like Ruffles or Foofoo, either. I can deal with having a dog around but you give it a name like that…” Unable to finish, he made a sweeping motion with his hand, strongly indicating that Jack should not do that. The kid eagerly nodded in agreement. “Good. So we’ll go, after we eat. Now, where the hell is Sam with my burger?” Dean glanced in the direction of the restaurant.

“Thank you, Dean,” Jack offered softly.

Dean turned back to catch the gratitude and happiness shining brightly in Jack’s light blue gaze. After a moment, he lowered his own and did his best to give an unaffected nod. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cas studying him, his head tilted and the barest hint of a squint. “What?” He barked out.

Cas narrowed his eyes further.

“Don’t give me that. You are not getting a cat. A dog is one thing but a cat? They throw up everywhere, they lick themselves, they bite and scratch, they look at you like they want to kill you all the time...yeah, that’s not happening.” A moment later, Dean chanced a glance in Cas’ direction. 

Cas was still studying him, but eventually his eyes softened. “Okay,” he agreed.

“Okay?” Dean asked in shock, though he tried to recover his surprise and appear more confident in his decision about the cat thing. Like he had so many times before when Cas brought up the possibility. Dogs he could get behind, but cats...no, he just couldn’t. 

He had nothing against the species but he had no desire to have a bundle of fur around that had sharp claws and canines at the ready should it feel threatened. And in Dean’s line of work, there was bound to be at least once or twice that might happen should something pop in unexpectedly or storm the bunker. Dean had already experienced feline wrath once when he and Sammy were kids. At one of the motels John Winchester had dropped them off at while he went on one of his hunts, Sam had found a stray cat near a dumpster, and after Dean had discovered its hiding place near Sam’s bed and lots of begging from his younger brother, it had stayed for the night. The cat seemed to love Sam, curling up next to him, eager to be petted, purring its contentment. Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it but Sam seemed happy; he just hoped his father would allow them to take it with them, if for nothing else, to keep that happiness on Sam’s face a bit longer. 

Once his brother had fallen asleep, Dean, unable to contain his curiosity, attempted to pet the animal. He had never had a pet before, they had been moving around for years and never really had a home themselves, never mind a place for a pet to live in. But what followed the hesitant pats on the cat’s head and body was a whirlwind of feline fury. Sam had immediately woken up, moved the cat away, and attempted to help tend to Dean’s cuts on his hand and arm, making sure to clean them out effectively. Dean never approached the animal again. He dutifully acquired cans of cat food and handed them to his brother when it came time to feed the little monster, but he kept his distance.

Needless to say, as irritated as John Winchester was a few days later when he returned, they made a pit stop at the local shelter on the way out of town, with Sam sniffling and scrubbing the tears away at the two words John had snapped out in response to his son’s pleas, “No animals.” Dean had quietly attempted to assuage his brother’s pain as they traveled to their next destination, distracting him with questions about the newest book he had managed to sneak out of the library two days earlier when Sam had insisted on finding information he could jot down in a notebook on the care of cats. Some nerd crap having to do with rings and wizards. His ploy had worked and Sam had gotten lost in the explanation of the world of hobbits and elves while Dean forced himself to look mildly interested. Sam had been smiling again at the end of the ride; it had been worth it. Dean swallowed, forcing the memory away as he clenched his left hand into a fist, remembering the sites of the bites and scratches from all of those years ago. So yeah, no cats. Not in this lifetime.

“Okay,” Cas repeated. He leaned in ever so slightly and let his hand cover Dean’s right one, gently squeezing. “I already have what I want.”

Dean gulped at the loving intensity he saw staring back at him. It still took some getting used to, the love that the angel had for him. Cas looked as if Dean was his whole world, his universe, and even though the latter knew the truth of those feelings behind those eyes, it was still something that he was trying to adjust to. Dean wasn’t used to being the focal point of someone’s affection, not quite like this, and he struggled daily to come to terms with it, but he was getting better. With Cas’ unending devotion and careful adoration, he was slowly starting to come around to the idea that he was worthy of someone’s love. It wasn’t easy for him but he was making progress. Cas never pushed him, never pressed for more than Dean was willing to give. He was just there, serving as a silent reminder (and sometimes a vocal one) that Dean Winchester deserved to be loved. 

Dean’s eyes snapped to Jack who was watching them closely, his eyes still bright in his happiness from a moment ago, and Dean remembered that they weren’t alone, not surprised that they had managed to get lost in the bubble they repeatedly found themselves in when Cas did and said things like this. He swallowed again for good measure and gave a nod, looking away to focus on the other side of the street to gain his bearings once again. Cas went to knowingly remove his hand but not before Dean discreetly brushed the angel’s palm with his thumb. “Yeah, you do,” Dean let out in the quietest of whispers and he didn’t need to look to know that the angel’s eyes were now crinkled at the corners from the smile that Dean imagined was sitting below the mask. He knew Cas had heard him; as Cas had pointed out to them many times before, being a celestial being had perks such as sharp hearing. And right now, that fact came in handy.

Cas moved his hand to Dean’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately before letting go, and sat back in his chair. One of the things Dean appreciated most about the recent development of their relationship: Cas giving him time to process each and every one of these little moments between them. 

Dean swallowed for a third time and then cleared his throat. “Alright seriously, where the hell is Sam? Is he cooking the damn burgers himself? Because let me tell you, if he is, I’m heading to the hot dog cart down the street. There’s no way in hell he’s getting me to eat a veggie burger or tofu or any of that crap.” He grimaced at the thought. 

Cas chuckled next to him, a sound that made Dean tip his lips up in a small smile. Cas seemed to relax more once he had returned from The Empty. He was...lighter and a little more loosened up in manner. It took Dean some time to work out that the marked change was that the angel was happy . And a happy Cas took some getting used to. Sure, he had seen Cas laugh before, smile wide, and even crack a joke (it had been the absolute worst knock knock joke Dean had ever heard but Sam had laughed, typical), but this was different. Happiness seemed to radiate from his very being and Dean still struggled to accept that some of that was due to him and his changing role in Cas’ life. But the more time he spent with this new Cas, the more he himself relaxed and felt somewhat lighter, too. And before long, he realized that he really enjoyed being around Happy Cas.

“I’ve eaten one of Sam’s burgers before. I think it was turkey.” Dean stared, horrified at Jack’s revelation. “I liked it.”

Dean shook his head, closing his eyes in disbelief. “Kid, you did not just say that.”

“I do. It was good.” Jack shrugged, not bothered in the slightest at Dean’s exasperation. 

“I’m going to have a word with Sammy when he gets back,” Dean threatened before turning to Cas with a finger in the air. “No kid of ours is eating turkey burgers, soy, or any of that garbage. Sam wants to go full on health nut, fine. But burgers are where I draw the line. I mean it, Cas.”

Cas inclined his head in Jack’s direction. “But if he enjoys it…”

Dean rolled his green eyes and leaned forward. “Aw, hell. Alright, kid, listen to me and don’t you ever forget it. There are three things you don’t mess with.” Jack leaned in closer, nodding, intent on finding out what those three things were. “Burgers, bacon, and beer,” Dean counted off on his fingers. “The three B’s. You got me?” At Jack’s resolute nod, Dean laid his hand back down on the table. “Now, say it back to me.”

“Burgers, bacon, and beer,” Jack repeated, a little uncertainty coloring his tone. When Dean gave him an approving nod, Jack smiled proudly.

“And don’t you ever forget it,” Dean finished, sitting back in his chair. 

“How could beer be messed with?” Jack seriously mulled it over. He now knew what Dean was referring to for the burgers, and he had already witnessed the debate between the Winchester brothers on the merits (from Dean) of regular bacon vs. the health effects (from Sam) on turkey and veggie bacon. 

“Anything with ‘light’ in the label, you avoid. At all costs,” Dean warned him.

“Got it. No light beer.” Jack had no idea what this light beer was or why it messed with beer in general but if Dean said to stay away from it, he would.

“Some people do enjoy light beer,” Cas offered. “From what I’ve read on the articles Sam showed me, it--”

Dean turned a dark glare on the angel. “Don’t.”

Cas was saved from replying by Sam’s sudden appearance. 

“Hey guys, sorry, they’re a little backed up in there. Alright, here we are.” Sam placed the tray down on the table and proceeded to hand out everyone’s order. When he placed a basket in front of Dean, the latter regarded it suspiciously. He quickly lifted the bun and inspected the contents, and more importantly, the meat. 

Sam, who watched him in confusion which rapidly turned into annoyance, had enough. “It’s beef, Dean.”

Dean shifted his eyes to his brother dubiously. Sam had tried to sneak him a turkey burger under the guise of a regular burger at least twice now. He wasn’t taking any chances. Seeing Sam’s confirming nod, he removed his mask and then prepared to take a bite. “No more turkey burgers for the kid.” 

Sam’s jaw dropped and he flickered his gaze to Jack who was thoroughly enjoying his burger. “He likes them.”

Dean chewed his food and managed to get out, “No more. You’ve already got him eating that kale crap. That’s enough. He’s a growing boy who needs his protein. Real protein.”

Sam opened his mouth to retort but Dean held up a hand, shook his head, and pointed to the burger before taking another massive bite. 

Sam let out a sigh, trading glances with an indifferent but slightly amused Cas. They were used to this by now. Sam had always fought the battle for Dean’s health but Dean made sure he lost, every single time. He had eventually given up but when Jack came long, he was determined that the kid would not grow up on microwave dinners and convenience store food as he and Dean were forced to live on for years. But once again, he and Dean were on opposite sides of the issue. Cas usually backed him in their joint quest for a healthier lifestyle for Jack, but lately, the angel didn’t seem as inclined to insert himself in these inane squabbles between him and his brother. One glance and a tiny smile from Cas towards Dean who was heartily enjoying his meal indicated the reason why.

Sam was on deck to make dinner tonight, later at the bunker. Eileen had gone for a supply run that morning and he already had everything he needed to make a healthy and nutritious dinner. He already anticipated Dean’s complaints (funnily enough Jack never complained, but Dean always did, you would think he was the kid) but he knew without a doubt, Eileen would fully support him in his mission. Sure, there were times, she and Cas exchanged a look of disbelief and silent pleas for help from each other when the debates lasted a little too long and got a little too loud, but all in all, Sam usually won because they all loved Jack and wanted what was best for him. On those nights, like he already knew would occur again tonight, he made Dean something else on the side to counteract the vegetables and Orzo that his older brother refused to eat. 

“It’s the three B’s,” Jack informed Sam helpfully. “Burgers, bacon, and beer.”

“What about them?”

“You don’t mess with them.”

The irritated glare Sam sent Dean would have made any demon cringe. 

“I do like the turkey burgers you make, though,” Jack shot Sam a reassuring smile. 

Sam smiled back gratefully, and then gave Dean a smug nod. Dean rolled his eyes and continued eating. He could give Sammy hell later. Right now, he was too hungry to bother.

“Sam, I’m getting a dog,” Jack announced proudly, his grin so wide it looked like it might start to hurt.

Sam’s hazel eyes widened in surprise and he looked to Dean and Cas. The former kept eating but the latter nodded and Sam thought it over, his brows furrowing.

“Dean says as long as I take care of it, I can get one.”

Sam glanced at his brother in shock, knowing how he felt about pets mixing in with their lifestyle. Dean lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug and took another bite. “The kid promised he would take care of it. I think it’s worth a shot,” he managed to get out around his food.

Sam’s eyes snapped to Cas’ and after a moment, he nodded in approval. “Okay.”

Jack’s smile grew even wider and he returned to his meal, the excitement radiating off of him in waves. 

Sam picked up his burger. “So, when were you planning to go look for one?”

“After we eat,” Dean responded, taking a sip of his beer. “We’ll head to the local shelter and take a look around.”

“And I have to give it a good name. Will you help me think of a good name, Sam?” Jack looked to his dad hopefully.

“Of course. Do you know what kind of dog you want?” 

Jack thought it over. “I’m not sure.” He glanced up at Dean worriedly. 

“That’s what looking is for,” Dean reassured him, immediately setting the kid at ease. “A shelter has all kinds of dogs looking for a good home. Me? I’m more of a big dog guy but you...this will be your dog, kid, your responsibility. You pick what you want.”

“As long as I don’t name it Foofoo or Ruffles,” Jack stated eagerly.

Sam shot Dean a look of disbelief and the latter smiled smugly before taking another sip. “That’s right.”

Shaking his head and looking to Cas, Sam asked, “And what about cats?”

Cas’ subtle shake of his head didn’t go unnoticed by any of them. Sam ignored the pointed look his friend sent him, and flickered his eyes to Dean.

Dean shook his head. “No cats.”

Sam scoffed. “Just like that?”

Dean put his beer bottle down, picking up his burger again. “Just like that.”

Sam went to respond when Cas cut him off. “It’s fine, Sam. Cats don’t appeal to everyone. Not the way a dog does.”

Sam gazed at the angel in disbelief. Cas had wanted a cat for as long as any of them could remember. While they were all settled now in the bunker, one big happy family, and if Jack could have a pet, then why couldn’t Cas? Neither of them got to experience that. It was true, having a dog and cat together might prove to be difficult at first, but he was sure they could make it work. It was a big bunker. While he understood Dean’s aversion to pet hair and offputting smells, and his deep dislike for cats in general, why couldn’t he just make an exception this one time? It was Cas , after all. “Yeah, but cats are less work than dogs.” At Cas’ uncertain look straying towards Dean, Sam relented. “You know there are other pets out there, other than cats, dogs, and snakes, right?”

All three pairs of eyes landed on him, Dean’s narrowed while Cas’ and Jack’s were wide. “Like what?” The latter two asked in unison.

“Like…” Sam attempted to think of something small like a cat, something that he could see Cas with. “Birds,” Dean’s eyes widened and he gave a subtle shake of his head that Sam purposely ignored. “Fish, turtles, lizards,” Dean closed his eyes in annoyance and wiped a hand down his face in tired defeat. Sam decided to put him out of his misery. “Hamsters, guinea pigs. There’s a lot.”

Cas’ eyes lit up in wonder. “Guinea pigs? You said you didn’t have one when I asked. That you were the guinea pig.”

Sam stared at Cas, trying to determine if the angel was serious, but Cas’ head tilt reminded him that yes, he was indeed serious. This was Cas . “Because I didn’t and I was. But forget that, it doesn’t mean you couldn’t have one if you wanted, Cas.”

Cas’ happy smile dimmed slightly when he turned to look at Dean. Dean was staring right at him, his expression pained. Cas gave Sam a short nod. “That’s okay. I appreciate it, Sam, but I don’t need a pet.”

Sam shot Dean a dark look but the man surprisingly wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, his brother was laser focused on Cas folding his hands and staring down at his uneaten burger. At the softening of his eyes, Sam knew what Dean was going to say before the words even came out.

“A guinea pig might not be so bad.”

Cas’ eyes grew wide once more and he glanced over at Dean in shock. “It’s not?”

Dean continued to study him for a moment. He then licked his lips and picked up his phone. “It’s not,” he confirmed. “Depending on the dog Jack here picks out, it might be too crammed for the backseat of Baby right now. But you and I can drop them off and run to the pet store in town, take a look around, and see if it’s what you really want.” He offered the phone to Cas. “Google it and find out what kind of food it eats.”

Cas took the phone gratefully, a bright smile appearing on his face. “Are you sure?”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder, a hint of a warm smile starting to form, and nodded. The smile grew at Cas’ gleeful expression as he unlocked Dean’s phone and began frantically searching for any information he could find on the small animals. Dean slowly removed his hand after a moment and glanced back up at the other side of the table, seeing knowing grins reflected back at him. 

He rolled his eyes and went back to his burger. “I don’t want it staying in my room, though. I’m not waking up to that thing staring back at me.”

Cas nodded. “I’ll keep it in my room at night,” he agreed as he scrolled. “It says here they make a lot of noise and I wouldn’t want anything interrupting your four hours.”

Dean mouthed ‘great’ and mimed holding a gun up to his head and pulling the trigger where Cas couldn’t see it. Jack pretended he hadn’t seen, either, but Sam’s smug smirk never went away. Not really.

After they continued to eat in silence for the next few minutes, Sam glanced around at all of the passersby and fellow patrons sitting at tables on the sidewalk. “It’s almost like Chuck never really went away.” He shook his head and balled up his napkin.

“Why would you say that?” Dean wondered.

Sam waved his hand around. “All of this. I mean, as soon as we take care of him, a pandemic hits. Kind of weird timing, don’t you think?” At Dean’s worried look in Cas’ direction, Sam immediately began backtracking. “I’m not saying he’s back. I’m just saying it’s weird, that’s all.”

“How about you don’t say it at all?” Dean ground out. “We got rid of that cosmic dick and he’s gone. For good.” He leveled a glare on Sam that clearly indicated the topic of Chuck was closed forevermore. 

“A pandemic is strange,” Cas agreed, never looking up from the phone. “But I highly doubt it’s related, Sam. A pandemic isn’t an exciting story, not to Chuck. No, this happened because of humans. And unfortunately, all of the other humans have had to deal with it.”

Dean appeared slightly relieved and reassured, but then his face darkened again. “Yeah…”

Sam was going to explain that he hadn’t meant Chuck was literally back, but decided to let the matter drop entirely. He began to discuss possible dog names with Jack, and pretended not to notice when Dean leaned over to look at the picture Cas wanted to show him, their heads nearly touching, and the laugh that tore out of Dean as he grabbed the phone back to show Cas something else. He was happy for his brother, knowing that Dean never believed he too could have something resembling a good ending. Dean and Cas were still figuring things out but he had seen the former as relaxed as he had ever seen him. Dean was grateful that their family was back together, long drives in Baby, family hunting trips, Sunday fishing forays for Dean and Jack, Tuesday movie nights, and all. And Sam was just as thankful, especially when Eileen had been added to their ranks. This ending was so much better than Butch and Sundance. They might not have gone out in a blaze of glory but Eileen’s bright smile, a warm laugh from Cas as Dean continued telling a funny story with pure adoration filling the latter’s eyes, Jack’s youthful excitement shining from his face as he talked about his plans for his dog, the world being safe from Chuck...this was so much better than their original desired ending that it wasn’t even close.

“What about...Hank?”

Jack pulled Sam out of his reverie with the odd name choice. “Hank?”

The kid smiled and nodded. 

Sam returned the smile and sat back in his chair. “How about we wait to see which dog you get? You know, if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Jack brightened. “Okay. I will.”

A sneeze sounded from across the table and everyone looked up in time to see Dean let another one loose. He shook his head and sniffled. “Sorry.”

“Bless you,” Sam offered. 

Dean waved it off but Sam watched as Cas grabbed a napkin and handed it to his brother. Before Dean could thank him, Cas pulled him close and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. Dean grimaced and waved him off, groaning, intent on not being coddled. “I’m not a baby, Cas.”

“No, you’re not,” Cas confirmed. “You’re a full grown adult that appears to be getting sick.”

“It’s a sneeze.”

Cas narrowed his eyes and held up the napkin that Dean had thrown carelessly on the table. “I counted two.”

Dean stared at the angel for a moment and Sam smiled when he saw his brother give in. He snatched the napkin from Cas’ fingers and blew his nose. He bunched up the napkin and threw it into his empty basket. “There. You happy?” Dean hurried out, sounding a little more nasal. 

Cas’ smile was blinding. “Very.” Dean didn’t resist Cas pulling him back in to place another kiss to his temple. He grimaced again but didn’t move away, allowing Cas to do as he wished. 

Sam attempted to smother a grin but failed miserably. When Dean sneezed once more, Cas lifted a finger asking if he could take his temperature which the hunter immediately batted away, telling him he was fine and that was never going to happen. Dean then rolled his eyes and took the proffered second napkin from Cas, blowing his nose as he did previously. Jack had managed to pull up pictures of dogs on his phone and was letting them all know which ones he thought would be a good match for him. Cas wondered if the dog would try to eat his guinea pig, if he should be concerned, which earned a horrified look from Jack and another loud groan from Dean. As Sam got up to throw out their garbage, he heard Cas’ promise to make Dean some chicken soup when they got home and assurance that they could go to the pet store when he was feeling better, Dean’s insistence that he wasn’t sick, and Jack’s promise that he wouldn’t let his dog eat Cas’ guinea pig. The younger Winchester smiled. A better ending indeed.

[colossal-niamh]

Overall Thoughts on Revolution 2025

Revolution rarely disappoints each year. this year (mostly) keeps that trend going, with an undercard that keeps itself at a decent to great level all show. There are 2 matches that I'd consider good but could have been great if tweaks were made, and 1 genuinely bad match on the card. Here's my thoughts on everything from top to bottom

Komander & Hologram vs Lee Johnson & Blake Christian- I completely forgot about this match until I went to double check the card. Hologram and Komander were cool, I find Blake Christian very boring

Undisputed Kingdom & Daniel Garcia vs. Shane Taylor Promotions- alright warm up match with a bunch of guys I enjoy. I'm not 100% on board for Cole/Garcia mainly because I'd rather Kyle or Roddy in his spot against Danny. wondering if this will also lead to another Garcia/Moriarty at the next ROH PPV (mostly cuz I want that)

Conglomeration & Big Boom AJ vs MXM Collection- really funny, I'm so glad Orange got a straight up comedy match for the first time in what feels like forever. I find Mason and Mansoor to be really good comedy stooges. also Rizzler Orange was so good. give it 5 star Meltzer

Hangman vs MJF- so I'm a little conflicted on this match. On one hand I think this is one of Hanger's best in ring performances ever, he feels like a man determined to learn from his fuck ups and be better. On the other, I find the back half of MJF's performance mired in his usual trappings. A little too all over the place ringwork wise and I find the "why do they want you, not me?" breakdown at the end too mellow dramatic for my tastes. I think overall it's positives outweigh it's negatives, but still feel there's room to be better

Momo Watanabe vs Mercedes Mone- pretty solid, I feel I might have been more invested if I was more familiar with Momo's work. not a lot else to say except I liked it

Swerve Strickland vs Riccochet- really good grudge match with some solid Prince Nana drama in the middle. this might be my favorite Riccochet match in AEW so far, with maybe the Darby CC match as a close 2nd. Shout out to Leslie Jones in the front row who feels like the most ride or die Swerve fan in the world, half the energy from that match was from her alone

Outrunners vs Hurt Syndicate- better than I was expecting, I like the Outrunners but I'm not super crazy about them in ring. I think this hits a good sweet spot of them getting some decent hope spots in before the semi-truck that is Lashley and Shelton flattens their hopes

Mariah May vs Toni Storm- Wow. A sprint of a bloodbath that keep me and the friend I was watching with howling in shock and excitement. when both of them pull out the tape and broken glass I swear you could hear us from the next town over. What a beautiful, bloody finale.

Kenny Omega vs Konosuke Takashita- fucking killer match, despite a stacked deck Kenny snatches victory out of the jaws of defeat. Soup spends the entire match trying to destroy Kenny's torso and Kenny in kind looks like death. I also really like the dual Hajime No Ippo reference with both guys' gear

Will Ospreay vs Kyle Fletcher- This is my other "could be better" match of the night, mainly because I think they had 5 would be ending spots and decided to do all of them. I think both men and doing some solid work but once Mark Davis gets knocked out of the cage I feel the match goes 5 minutes too long. it feels like when you play one of the 2K games and instead of ending the match you spend all the finishers you stored up at once to overkill your opponent

Cope vs Jon Moxley- wooooof, this was not good. Even if this wasn't following 3 high octane matches, this still would have struggled. both men are sluggish and uninspired. Cope gets a little energy near then end but is mostly dry. It's so sad seeing a bloodless Mox match, it's watching one of the best in the world lean away from what works best about him and lean into heel champion tropes that just don't work for him. Also Christian Cage just feels wasted here, like he's just here so Cope doesn't eat a pin and at this point I would rather have a Christian title run then continue this flop of a Mox run. A true disappointment

Worst match of the night- Cope vs Jon Moxley

Best Match of the night- Mariah May vs Toni Storm

[soapdispensersalesman]

I'm up to date with the entire Monsters Inc franchise and damn Monsters at Work was even better than I expected! (Spoilers alert)

Compared to the films, the animation is a bit simpler and at first glance gives off the vibe of a Playstation 4 cutscene and I like that, I completely understand the differences as it would be overkill for the show to have the cinematic look of the film and from a technical standpoint probably very time-consuming and expensive, too!

The character designs feel similar to how I experienced with Monsters University where the character designs aren't bad, the CGI development between the two films just makes it uncanny in a way I cannot put in words that the newer characters almost don't feel canon; Tylor's indigo skin feels so vibrant and the furry detail of Val is fascinating. The simulation kid from the original film has been redesigned and whereas the film's 3D model looked very "playstation can produce mind boggling effects" level 3D, it somehow added to the robot feel whereas the modern redesign feels like I'm watching a cyborg kid, something about the reduced size of his pupils makes him more alive looking which feels disturbing.

The first thing that immediately got me excited about this series was that it showed more locations within Monsters Inc, such as the MIFT office which you quickly start to grow familiar to, Pixar does an incredible job making these locations feel like home, it really did feel like you were sitting in the room with them, waiting for them to be summoned where they're needed!

This show sits at the intersection of continuation and spin-off of the original films keeping a good eye on all the continuity and canonical events from previous films, and the fact John Goodman and Billy Crystal, as well as the rest of the cast came to reprise their roles was just making this even better! I would've still watched this if the cast was different (heck, Celia's original voice actress doesn't appear in the second season and even though I knew beforehand, I didn't notice a difference while listening) Legit dope to see a direct and canonical continuation of a film with all the original elements still intact, it feels so "premium" to watch such a quality product lol

Mike ans Sulley moving to the background and taking the role of a more "mentor" esque figure, especially Sulley, is very wholesome and the whole "passing the torch to the next generation" is something I've noticed has been pitched to Disney before with Zack and Cody, but it's nice actually seeing it being applied and working!

Tylor's character had quite some shoes to fill and although it took a few episodes for me, his character is well-done too! Seeing him grow and adapt was really nice to watch. Heck, every new character from this show takes a bit to grow to love by they're all unique and well written.

Something about the pacing of the episodes felt slow, the episodes felt much longer than they were which is fascinating. Mike's comedy class segments felt a little painful to watch but perchance it is the fact I'm not as young as I was when I saw the original film, I could imagine a kid finding the Comedy Class scenes entertaining. For me I understand the canon reason behind these bits, but the poor punchlines, sometimes even absent as a whole, were a little painful.

I like how both seasons had a finale that would've served as a series finale had the show not been renewed. Season 2's storyline had a bit of a more predictable character development as well as the whodunit plot that kept me captivated. There waa one unsolved plotline in season 2 that hints the potential storyline of season 3 but I love how it could've ended there and I still would love the show.

Slowly falling asleep so here's some summarised Thoughts:

Loved the lesbian romance, I remember that Good Luck Charlie episode, but I haven't kept up with Disney in over a decade but seeing them explore same-sex relationships was not on my bingo car

Joy (season 2) gave me "angry black woman" vibes which disappointed me as I hoped we left that trope.

Seeing more of Monstropolis is a big plus too!

welp I might return for more writings

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches And Wizards Job 29-30

AO3 Link

Buy me a Ko-fi?

Remember: Tumblr has no algorithm. Reblogs give me life.

1-2 + 3-4 + 5-6 + 7-8 + 9-10-11 + 12-13-14 + 15-16 + 17-18-19 + 20-21-22 + 23-24-25 + 26-27-28 + 29-30 + 31-32-33 + 34-35-36 + 37-38 + 39-40-41-42

TWENTY NINE

"Hardison has the most dangerous entrance," Ford had explained to them all. "He goes in first. I want you all watching to make sure he gets in OK."

Lucille 2.O and the U-haul van were parked side by side on the visitor's lot of the apartment complex that abutted the back wall of the gracious Roughan manor grounds. Nate stayed with Lucille; Eliot and Dresden walked sedately away from the U-haul van along the street, nearly invisible in the dark except when a pair of headlights passed over them as a car came to, and occasionally went from, the party.

Ahead of them, down an elegantly curved driveway and up a stately set of steps with wrought iron railings, Hardison was offering his invitation to a very large woman in a well-fitted tux. "You'll not find it under my name. I'm the replacement for Bartholomew Harrington." His voice was low, pleasant, elegantly British as he offered a business card that read "Alexander Worthington the Third' and 'Christie's of London - Acquisitions.'

The woman examined both card and invitation. "Where's the other man?" she asked.

"Where his delicate sensibilities won't get in the way of keeping the Sokolov portrait from being lost," Mister Worthington (the Third), replied with the most pointed disapproval in his cultured voice, pushing up his glasses with fastidious precision. Mister Harrington was actually sleeping off a hefty dose of sedatives in his hotel room. "I'm sure there's someone you can call to confirm my credentials," he suggested politely.

The woman gestured for him to wait and took a step back, speaking into her own earbud.

A call was made.

Nate picked it up in Lucille, where Hardison had already rerouted most of the normal phones belonging to the security team. Overkill, but a necessity, since he had to be feet on the ground for the job. "Lawrence Billings." His British accent wasn't nearly as elegant, but the burr on it was on purpose. No one liked speaking for long to someone they could barely understand. He listened to what was asked of him. "Well, I'm not about to tell you what our man is there for, obviously. But yes, he's a trusted agent of our organization."

Mister Worthington (the Third) was waved on.

"Don't lie," Dresden had told them all. "Dance around the truth, give it halfway. Omit. Hide. But don't outright lie unless you know for sure you're talking to a human."

Eliot and Harry moved up the steps. The hitter could feel the wizard all but vibrating, so tense was he. "Harry, are you alright to do this?," he murmured.

"Not even a little bit," Harry admitted. He was gritting his teeth so hard a muscle along his cheek had started twitching and wouldn't stop. His eyes kept losing track of where they were and what they were doing.

The wizard was elsewhere, Eliot realized, and whatever he was seeing, it was his own personal hell. "Do you want to call it off?"

"No. I'll be fine once I start talking to people." The wizard stared at his feet. "Once I can focus on what's going on here."

Eliot stared a little longer at the man. He knew what it was like, when the dragons of your past rose up and waited for you in the present. "Alright," he said mildly. "You know, you may not have a lot of sense, but you're all heart, wizard."

Dresden lifted his bandaged hand and grinned humorlessly. "Dangerous thing to be."

"Worth it?"

The wizard chewed long and hard on the question. "Yeah. It was." They climbed up the stairs and three very large people in suits immediately blocked their path.

"I think they know who we are," Eliot commented mildly.

"I think they think they know who we are," Harry replied just as casually.

"You were not invited, wizard," the woman told him stonily.

"And yet here I am," Dresden replied cheerfully, offering an invitation. "Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard. And my, uh, my bodyguard. On behalf of the Lord of Weekend Deliveries."

The woman glowered at him, eyed the invitation with utmost jaundice, examined the both of them and the piece of vellum closely. "Get Letty," she told one of the men with her, who was only slightly shorter, and somewhat broader across the shoulders.

Letty, it turned out, was a twitchy little man with very short, clumpy red hair, dressed in the most ill-fitted attempt at a bouncer's suit. It looked like he'd been chewing at the sleeves, and he was missing one shoe. His socks were slowly rotating around his feet, too big to stay in place. He squinted blindly at Harry with mismatched eyes, one brown, one yellow, the one larger than the other. "Wizard," he rasped at the woman, scrabbling at her arm with plucking, long, bony fingers.

She shoved him, caught the back of his neck and held him in place. "Tell him again," she instructed Harry.

He gave her a deeply bored look, then stared at Letty until he looked down with a little whine. "Harry Dresden, Professional Wizard. On behalf of the Lord of Weekend Deliveries. And my bodyguard, Eliot Spencer."

Every bouncer there took a long step back.

"He speaks truth, fairy truth," Letty rasped.

The woman struggled to peel her eyes off Eliot. It took a solid effort, but she managed to face Harry once again. "You packing?"

"Yes. And I'm gonna continue packing unless you tell me you went in there and defanged Ying Ying and put thumb-knots on the Blackbird."

She scowled at him, but stepped back and out of his way with ill grace. "I'll be watching, wizard. Give me a ghost of a reason."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something," Harry declared jauntily. He was a study in contradictions, in elegant dress pants and fine black shoes, wearing a high-necked shirt stitched with rims of black feathers along the wrists and chest, and an elegantly embroidered black vest, all of it tucked under his battered leather duster. Eliot at least looked like he belonged, in a fine indigo tux, hair caught back in a half pony-tail. "And we're in," the hitter murmured as they both moved up to the door. "I thought you said we couldn't lie to them."

"You can't."

"Then who the hell's the Lord of Weekend Deliveries?"

An honest, sheepish little grin twitched at the corners of Harry's mouth. "The official title is Pizza-Lord. And I am."

A silver Rolls Royce purred up the driveway and to the bottom of the stairs. From the shotgun door, Nick managed to squeeze himself out. He had on a plain white suit and looked very put together, and generally amused at the universe in general and particular. From the opposite side of the car, Vanya Fedorov slipped out. The Russian enforcer was very much the dapper creature in darkest charcoal gray and deep green, his eyes ever watchful. He came around the car, opened the door, and offered a hand to his companion.

Ekaterina Yegorov took the offered hand and stepped out into the night.

Eliot heard Harry choke on a breath, and smiled. He had to, because for a moment he'd forgotten to breathe as well.

Miss Yegorov was a jewel, wrapped in frothy layers of seven different shades of indigo; the changes in hue were so subtle it was impossible to tell where they ended or began. The silk gown both hugged her body and hid it, promising everything and nothing, revealing all treasures and taking them all away with her merest motion. Her black hair cascaded down one side, pinned back on the other with an elegant clip done in platinum and black diamonds. The Rosalind diamond sat over her collarbones nestled on a double chain, the first loop tight around her neck, the other much longer. She carried a small black purse that probably fit one credit card and the hopes and dreams of most men and a few of the women watching her.

"Breathe, Harry," Eliot murmured.

"Yeah, that's me," the wizard mumbled.

Fedorov leaned close, whispered something, and Ekaterina laughed. They went up the stairs; the bouncers barely even checked the invitation, all smiles and bows, even after Fedorov pointed out his bodyguard was also coming with him. He even, all courtesy, pulled his jacket away to show the gun there in its underarm holster. He was troubled over none of it.

The trio didn't even look at Eliot or Harry as they swept by and into the manor.

"Sophie and Nick are in," Eliot murmured.

The little shard of the enchanted mirror pinning his tie in place carried the message to the shard Nate had on a platinum ear-clip.

"Here we go, then," the mastermind declared mildly. He checked on the bud tucked into the other ear. "Parker, you in place?"

Parker was sliding gracefully along a vertical stone shaft. "So this was for bringing food up and down?"

"Uh, a dumbwaiter, yes."

"Why'd they stop building houses with them?"

"Because of thieves."

"But they're so convenient!"

Nate, who knew to a nicety the humongous extra fee that a house incurred in insurance premiums when it had a working dumbwaiter, could only reply, "Yes, for thieves. Have you found the portrait yet?"

"Not yet." Parker looked at her wrist. She had a toy compass attached to it, the sort you could find in a cereal box, or buy for fifty cents. The needle on it danced uncertainly between two very specific points. "I think there's one of those tracking foil things on it. I'm not close enough for Harry's compass to beat it completely."

"Alright. Parker can't find the portrait," he relayed, "so it's up to you guys, then."

"Oh, this is something else," Sophie's voice murmured into the linked mirror shards. Her own were tiny, secured to the hair clip among the black diamonds, and to the decorative clasp on the chain holding the Rosalind diamond.

"What, what is it?"

Eliot, who'd just stepped into the main hall of the manor with Harry, gritted his teeth. "It's a Mona Lisa," he growled low. "I count three portraits in this room alone."

"There's two in this one," Sophie added, turning slightly, her arm tucked around Vanya's. They'd made it all the way to a dining room, where a slim buffet and a vast bar were set up. Nick made a little plaintive sound, and a smile ghosted over the Russian enforcer's features before he nodded minutely. His so-called bodyguard immediately made a beeline for the food.

"One more upstairs," Hardison informed them.

"There's duplicates of everything, even the ugly flute thing, there's three of those in this room alone," Sophie protested.

"It's a test," Harry murmured. "By magic or skill, the buyer's going to have to be able to tell the real one from the copies. It's not the seller's fault if they can't."

"Dresden," Nate asked. "Were the copies made by magic?"

Harry hesitated with a startled look. Yet again, Nate had caught him by surprise in throwing the word out so readily. He rallied, walking up to one of the items in display at the room, a flute carved out of a long, blackened bone larger than a femur, but thinner. He ran a hand over it, not quite touching, murmuring under his breath.

A little breeze made the flute hum mournfully, barely audible.

"No. Unless I found the one real one among all the copies, they're real, inasmuch as they can be. Magic won't tell you which ones are fake."

"Please don't touch the cursed artifacts," a woman's voice said from behind Eliot and Harry with a touch of dark humor and a very slight accent. "No one here needs another mad wizard situation."

Harry threw the hitter a warning look, and they both turned slowly.

Ying Ying Amarin was a beautiful, fragile-seeming creature, with a mantle of black hair and skin so fair it could have passed for eggshell porcelain. Her eyes were almond-shaped and the sweetest chocolate brown, and her mouth was a delicate pink blossom. She was wearing a very elegant black dress and a long string of blood-red pearls with matching earrings. "Wizard Dresden," she greeted, her voice pleasant. "Much is said of you among the circles I frequent."

"Miss Amarin. All of it bad, I'm sure."

She gave him a half-smile. "Most of it. Tell me, how does a wizard secure the services of Eliot Spencer as a bodyguard? I understood you barely keep the lights on in your home."

"Even the most careful man can end up owing favors where he doesn't want to," Eliot said mildly, belying the sudden, inexplicable and altogether terrifying hunger that had slammed into him at the sight of the woman.

"The flute, is it yours?" Harry asked.

"Interesting. The flute? No. We are not selling, merely buying. There is a Bag of Winds somewhere around here that my Hong Kong associates would like me to acquire for them. I hope we will not be competitors?"

Harry shook his head readily. "I'm only interested in one thing, so far."

The wizard didn't notice, but the hitter did. Ying Ying's shoulders shifted minutely, the corners of her mouth eased. She blinked twice. She smiled.

She'd been worried. About Harry.

"That's good to know." Then her attention came to rest fully on Eliot. He felt her power slam into him like an avalanche, calling out to the most primal parts of him in a scream that begged to be answered. It roared hunger, for food, for blood, for flesh, for breath, for anything and everything. "Perhaps later mister Spencer will tell me all about this… favor?"

The hitter tucked a hand into his jacket and closed it around one of the pins in it. The metal went immediately soft, blisteringly hot. "Perhaps," he replied, smiling automatically. He saw smug triumph and a hint of appreciation on those pink, perfect lips and walked away powered strictly by pain and self-control, Harry by his side.

"Shake it off," the wizard told him once they were far enough away. "Breathe. You did fine. It's gonna linger, but you did fine."

"That is some kind of…" Eliot didn't even have the words. "She's a vampire?!"

"Yes, of a sort. Not all of them feed on blood. She's Jade Court, so I have no idea what she actually eats."

The hitter brought out the misshapen pin. "We only have so many between Hardison and me, Harry."

"Why do you think I'm staying up here, away from everyone?" the hacker pointed out. His listening shard was hiding on the leg of his glasses. The speaking shard was pinned to his ascot.

"Vanya's uncle's here," Sophie suddenly said, and everyone quieted.

"Vanya!" Fedorov's uncle rushed up to him. He was dressed just as sharply as his nephew, and he looked vaguely flustered. He took one look at Ekaterina and he ended up completely flustered, mouth working emptily for a long moment before he switched to Russian altogether. "I didn't think you were coming."

"Your advice has never steered me wrong," the Russian mobster said. "If you believe meeting these people is important -"

"No, you don't understand, Vanya!" His uncle interrupted him urgently. "I didn't think you were coming at all, someone had to represent the family's interests -"

"Yes. You, then?"

"No. Me." A man, taller and leaner than Mikhail Sagorov but carved along much the same hard, unforgiving lines, stepped around Fedorov's uncle and spoke in English.

Ekaterina felt the man next to her go rigid, the fingers of his free hand twitching. "Father."

"Vanya."

All six members of the team immediately focused on that one discordant exchange.

Fedorov, who apparently was as shaken as everyone else, turned to automatic courtesy. "Allow me to introduce miss Ekaterina Yegorov," he said, freeing his arm from her grip and sliding his hand to hers. "An art expert, among many other things. My father, Ivan Sagorov."

Ekaterina smiled. A shard of light caught the diamond she wore as she stepped forward. Both older men stepped instinctively back, but she merely offered her hand. "It is always a pleasure to meet men who know not just how to build their power, but to hang onto it."

Ivan Sagorov looked at her with infinite wariness. He eventually relented to take her hand in his, but rather than shake it, he kissed her fingers lightly. "One finds the definition of power very subjective in this place and among these people. Miss Yegorov flatters me."

Ekaterina chuckled richly. "I do not. Perhaps there are many here that discount the power mortals have. I am not one."

Ivan grinned minutely at that, but then turned a hard look on his brother, and an even stonier glare on his son. "I did not realize I was my brother's second choice of representative at this gathering."

"You should have guessed," Mikhail replied tersely. "We both know what you think of these sort of people."

"I think they are no one's future, least of all ours." He shot Ekaterina a brief, apologetic glance. "No offense meant."

"None taken," she replied graciously.

"But it is good to know what the heir apparent believes," he added with icy sarcasm and bitter, controlled fury, "of such alliances."

A muscle showed along the line of Vanya's neck. "A wise leader considers all the tools at his disposal."

"Don't shoot my words back at me like you ever cared about them," Ivan snarled quietly in Russian. "No one here's a tool unless it's you."

Fedorov surged forward. Ekaterina caught his arm. "Vanya."

"Do you know what they are? What your uncle brings you in the guise of a gift?" The leader of the Eastern Seaboard Russian mafia stepped forward until he could just hiss at his head enforcer. "They're a noose around our neck. If it weren't because I know they'd take us all down with you, I'd wish them the joy of you."

"The sort of man who'd give his own son to the wolves is not the man I'd trust to have anyone's best interests at heart except his own," Vanya gritted out. "In the end greed always wins out with him."

The conversation might have escalated to parts both bloody and violent, but another voice joined the conversation. "Please, please!" The avuncular, condescending tone was full of cheer. "Why such long faces, this is a party, please. Drinks! Food! Bring some of those delightful little toast things for my friends here. Mikhail, please, introduce me, shan't you?"

"I find I am not hungry," Ivan ground out, stepping back. "I thank you for your hospitality, Koshan, but I think my mood and my patience are worn too thin for companionship."

Koschei gestured grandly with his glass, the brandy in it darkest gold, and stepped back, clearing the way. "Please. It was a pleasure to see you even this brief while, Ivan Sagorov Barevich. Do give my regards to Minke, won't you?"

The elder Sagorov lowered his head like a bull considering a charge, his expression gone black and implacable at those seemingly harmless words. He finally breathed out slowly through his teeth and stalked away.

THIRTY

"Goodness, what a temper," Koschei commented casually. He was wearing much the same outfit he'd worn for his portrait: fine, blousy riding pants tucked into pointed embroidered boots, the complex designs worn in silver. He wore a black shirt with the neckline decorated with tiny emerald chips, a silver sash and a long, heavy coat stitched with black ravens and white wolves. "That man needs a therapist," he said the last word in English, jarring among the fluent Russian.

"My father needs many things," Vanya noted calmly, switching seamlessly to the new language. "He cares to acquire none of them."

Koschei whipped around. "Ah, you must be Vanya. Your uncle has spoken glowingly of you." He offered his hand.

Fedorov managed a smile, just barely, and shook the offered hand. "The gentleman has me at a disadvantage."

"Koschei. Immortal, wizard, your humblest servant." The man bowed. When Vanya merely cocked a brow at him in disbelief, Koschei laughed. "Is it so hard to believe, considering those all around us? Or the company you are currently keeping?" He gave Ekaterina a pointed look, one black brow going up.

Ekaterina's smile was even thinner than Vanya's when she offered her hand. "Ekaterina," she said simply.

Everyone within sight of her held their breaths.

Koschei took that hand and lingered over the kiss. The diamond glittered. Ekaterina took her hand back, since the wizard seemed rudely unwilling to let go.

"Enchanting," he purred. "It's not often my curiosity is piqued."

"Ekaterina is here to help with our exchange. That is, if my bid is amenable," Vanya wrapped a possessive arm around Ekaterina's waist.

Koschei's smile grew. "Of course. That is only sensible. As for your offer, mm, well, it buys you the same as it does for everyone here. A chance to pick up one of the portraits. Whether it is the real one or not, I suppose only an expert could tell."

Upstairs, Hardison put a hand over his ascot pin. "Nate, I do not like this. We don't know how long he's had to make the copies. For all we know he got Sokolov himself to make them."

Back in Lucille 2.0, Nate winced. The earbuds were holding - at least the ones not close to Dresden. But Hardison was surrounded by just enough magic that there was some unpleasant feedback whistling through his line. If not for the shards of the enchanted mirror, more than half the team would have been flying blind. "It's Sophie's call and Sophie's show. Keep an eye on her."

Ekaterina glanced around her diffidently. "Well, we'd have to find the room with the real one first, I suppose," she pointed out archly.

Koschei laughed in delight. "Just so. Are you, ah, permanently attached to Vanya's office, Ekaterina?"

"My services are his tonight," she replied delicately. "They happen to include my company… and my protection."

The wizard examined her closely, but she knew better than to look into those poison-green eyes. "Just so. Very important, to be protected when purchasing such powerful artifacts from such powerful people. But perhaps I could borrow him for a little while to introduce him to a few friends of mine? They would be delighted to make his acquaintance, to watch him rise in power and esteem. That is, after all, what every man desires, no?"

"My desires and my goals are two very different things," the Russian replied mildly. "Unlike most men, I have no problem keeping them separate."

"As one should!" Koschei agreed enthusiastically, then gestured to the room at large. "May I?"

"Kate, see if you can find the real portrait. She has, of course, freedom to roam the premises?" Fedorov asked.

"Of course. The bidders and their agents may go wherever there are more copies to be examined."

Ekaterina smiled.

"Good. Nick!" The bodyguard left the buffet table and sedately made his way over, still looking like the world was a grand joke for him to enjoy. "You're with me."

Nick smiled broadly. It was deeply, deeply unsettling, and wholly aimed at Koschei, but the wizard rallied swiftly and led Vanya away.

"There goes a brave man," Ekaterina murmured.

"I did not realize he already had friends among you people," Mikhail said. "I would not have risked this invitation if I did."

"Do you not want him to make alliances here?" She asked, arching a brow up.

Mikhail was already walking away, visibly struggling with himself.

"Nate," Sophie murmured. "This isn't right. This isn't just an auction of magical artifacts. Sagorov knows something."

"Eliot."

The hitter threw the wizard a questioning glance. Harry nodded. "I'm fine, go."

"Um, Nate?" Parker said into the earbud line.

"Yes, Parker, did you find something?"

"Yes." Parker had found the space between the walls where the old pipes had run, and she'd wormed her way even further into the house, until she was flush with the floor of a large, lavish and very modern bedroom, looking out through an HVAC vent. "I found the old lady."

"You found Grandmother?" That carried to both lines of communication, since Nate was connected to both.

"Yes. And there's a bunch of those rabbit-people watching her." Parker shifted to get a better look past the grate. "They've got guns."

"Armed leshy?" Hardison, also privy to both sides of the conversation, frowned. "Why would they need weapons, so far the only ones to use them have been the humans with them."

"It would make no sense anyway," Harry pointed out, quickly piecing together what bits of the situation he was hearing. "Leshy are thugs. They are nowhere near her power level, she should be able to waltz right past them, guns or not."

"Probably. Unless hearts aren't the only thing you can cut out of people." Nate was thinking very fast, the gleaming fractal trees in his mind coming together faster and faster, facts and suspicions, knowledge old and new, weaving together into a cohesive whole -

"You'd be surprised how many things out there think we're just convenient little walking snacks."

Then there was the night the alkonost had shown up -

"There was a trap in the heart, a means for him to steal her power, if she had agreed."

- and the morning of Dresden's arrival -

"He cut out his own heart and hid it - he hid it so well that no one can find it, not even death."

It all came together with the memory of the Russian enforcer at the loft, comfortably slouched on a couch they'd purchased just so everyone could sit comfortably while they spoke to the wizard, holding onto an oddly shaped, oddly carved wooden cup, drinking vodka and telling them all ancient Russian fairy-tales - not the modern, sanitized versions but the old kind, full of blood and casual violence, where victory was measured by how badly your enemies died.

"Sophie, is Koschei gone?"

"He's introducing Fedorov around. You'd think he was the star of this show."

"Dresden?"

"I'm fine. I think no one wants to be seen with me."

"Eliot?"

Eliot had trailed Sagorov to a small sunroom. "He's on the phone yelling at someone." The hitter kept back, to the shadows just outside the solarium's door, and stiffened when he realized what he was hearing. "It's him. This isn't just an auction of artifacts, Sagorov's selling Fedorov to settle a debt of some sort. Nate, he's selling future control of the entire Eastern Seaboard chapter to one of these things!"

"Of course he is," the mastermind whispered, another section of the puzzle coming together at last. "Sophie, are Nick and Fedorov still with Koschei?"

"Yes," Sophie confirmed as Ekaterina examined idly some of the items displayed, aloof and graceful, speaking occasionally to those she found nearby. "He's just been introduced to the toad-person."

"Dresden, where are you?"

"At the bar, like you told me to be?"

"Nate." Eliot's voice sounded exceedingly tense. "Problem."

"What is it?"

Faced with two incoming bouncers, the hitter had detoured into what seemed to be a combination conservatory and library, a room of dark, rich, velvety tones. It was closed to the general public, and the only artwork present seemed to be reassuringly normal. There were no lights, which made the door off to one side, past the shelves, painfully obvious. And one quick peek had Eliot trying not to swear at the fact that, magic or not, everything was still conspiring to throw the job off the rails. "I found another Grandmother."

The team reeled to a halt, wherever they were. Back in Lucille, Nate pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. "Of course you did."

"Um." Hardison sounded deeply hesitant. "Not to rain on anyone's parade, but I just found another Grandmother upstairs." The hacker was peeking around a corner and down a long hallway into a private office. He could just glimpse the old woman past the two armed guards at the door, left open to allow a young woman in the severe uniform of the staff to bring in a tray of tea.

"What? No! I found her, she's right here!" Parker, able to hear that bit through the earbuds, protested in an irate hiss.

Sophie paused. "Nate," she breathed as she realized what was happening.

"Yup." The mastermind sighed. "She's part of the auction, too."

"Now what, Nate?" Eliot demanded. "How can we get her out if we can't find the real one?"

"Nothing has changed." Nate clipped out. "Sophie, find the original portrait. Dresden, is there any way to tell which is the real Grandmother?"

"Uh, um…" The wizard rubbed his forehead. "Her shadow. Look at her shadow."

"Parker, check her shadow," Nate relayed.

She wriggled behind the vent. "It's an old lady shadow."

"Then that's not her," Harry replied when Nate repeated that.

"Hardison? Eliot?"

"Normal, uh, old lady shadow here," the hitter reported hesitantly.

"I'm not close enough to see," Hardison warned them. "Do you want me to risk it, Nate?"

"Not yet. Dresden, go pick a fight with Sophie."

"Wh- Me? I thought you wanted me to keep a low profile as long as I could!"

"Hold that thought," Sophie breathed. Ekaterina, having wandered further away, into an elegant breakfast solarium, could feel a gaze burning a hole between her shoulderblades.

"Spider silk, right?" A rough voice asked behind her.

Ekaterina turned. "Isvinee?"

There were two men and one woman behind her. All of them were short and wiry, and they all wore matching gray suits with red ties. Their hair was cut razor-short, the scalp showing pink through for the youngest of the two men, who was very blond. The older man, flanked by the other too, was slouching easily, hands in his pockets. "The duds," he said. "Spider silk, innit?"

"Oh, trial by fire of the Veil," Harry whispered so the words were barely audible; the shards, while serving the same purpose as the earbuds, were nowhere near as quiet. "Conversation's about to get crude, Sophie, this isn't an insult, it's how it translates for them."

"It is, yes." Ekaterina replied simply.

"Well, you look fuckin' gorgeous, gal. Even if it ain't yours." He tapped two clawed fingers to his mouth and blew her a kiss.

Ekaterina smiled. "Spaseeba. Thank you. You would not believe what it cost, and you are the first to say anything, nearly an hour after I come through the door."

"No shit?" The man frowned. "Now there's a fuckin' crime." He looked at both his colleagues, who nodded stoutly. He was perhaps in his late thirties, with sharp gray eyes under heavy brows, stubble on his angular cheekbones, and uneven teeth. He smelled strongly of expensive, pine-based soap, and managed to look both profoundly at ease with his surroundings and incredibly uncomfortable in his clothing. He offered his hand after a moment's thought. "I'm Classy."

Ekaterina took and shook it without hesitation. "An unexpected pleasure to meet you and your companions," she purred. "You can call me Ekaterina, or Kate. I hope we are not to be competitors?"

Classy looked utterly surprised at her casual friendliness. His grip was dry, warm and strong, matching Ekaterina's but mindful not to overpower or hurt her. His nails were short, sharp, curving gray claws and he was very careful not to hurt her, his palms heavily calloused. "Oh, no, no. We're sellin' most of this crap, gal. You, uh, buyin' anything?" He reached for his pocket, but the woman elbowed him mildly and he sighed in exasperation.

Ekaterina gestured to one of the vast glass doors leading to the grounds outside, and began to walk. "My employer is only interested in one item."

"Yeah, everyone's here for that fuckin' painting." As soon as they stepped outside the man lit up a cigarette. "Had to jump through the Blackbird's fuckin' hoops, when this was our to-do first."

"Well, that is, uh, what is the word. Bullcrap."

"Innit?" Classy looked terribly pleased at her empathy. "We don't give a shite over all this, the copies, right?" He waved his hand vaguely at the house. "Who the hell cares. Buy the thing, get out. Eh." He sighed. "Bloody won't give our rightful property back, either."

"I am sorry, did I hear right," Ekaterina put a light hand on Classy's shoulder. "Did the Blackbird steal from you?"

"Not yet he ain't. And he won't if he knows what's fuckin' good for him," Classy declared. He'd started minutely at the touch, but he didn't look insulted or wary, merely pleased. "Look, gal. Between you and me?" He leaned close. "The portrait's not here."

"It is not?"

"Nah." He threw the butt of his cigarette down and crushed it underfoot. "He don't trust nobody. I wouldn't, neither." Wordlessly he moved to stand by her side and dipped his head toward the sound of the surf and the elegant boat-house a stone's throw from the mansion itself. "He'll be bringin' it in at some point, I suppose." He gave her a wicked grin. "'less someone calls 'im out on it."

She grinned back at him and bumped him lightly. "Excuse me," she purred, walking back into the house.

"Nice gal," the woman said as all three watched her go.

"She was," Classy agreed. "So nice. Didn't expect that."

"What is she?" the young man asked.

"I dunno," Classy admitted readily. "Smells scary, though. Let's go find our fuckin' property."

Sophie stalked through the breakfast solarium. "Nate, did you get that?"

"I did. Did everyone else?"

"I didn't!" Parker hissed; Sophie couldn't have an earbud active while carrying the diamond.

"The portrait's not in the house," the mastermind summed up. "It's out in the boat-house."

"Oh." The thief paused. "I'll go get it, then."

"No. No, Parker, n-" Nate sighed. "We need the portrait to disappear in front of everyone. For that, it has to be in the house."

"Well, why can't we put one of the fake portraits in place of the real portrait and then have the man in black bring in a fake portrait instead, wouldn't that be even more embarrassing?"

The most profound silence welcomed that impatient question.

"Dresden."

"Yeah?"

"Go pick that fight."

"Ah, Hell's Bells," the wizard sighed resignedly.

[nickgerlich]

Apple A Day

It’s that time of year again. No, not the changing of the seasons, the beginning of football, or the month Green Day wants you to wake them up when it’s over. Nope. Tomorrow is the annual September announcement—drumroll, please—from Apple and the release of the next iPhone.

Not that Apple doesn’t let the rumor mill freely run and play with wild speculations for the nine months leading up to this. The iPhone16 will officially be announced tomorrow, but we probably already know everything there is to know. If anyone knows how to play the hype game, it is Apple.

The question is will people be impressed enough to plan on lining up at stores in a couple of weeks to replace their old phones.

I remember back in 2007 when the first iPhone was announced. Much to my current embarrassment, I roundly dismissed it as superfluous, wasteful, and overkill. I already had a phone, pocket camera, and calculator. Why would I want to replace all of them with an expensive new device? That first-gen iPhone had a list price of $499, which is laughably cheap compared to today’s models, but it was still a huge expense to duplicate everything else you already had.

I quickly saw the folly of my way, and was ready to hop in the queue a year later to get my hands on what has arguably become the most important device ever released. It has been imitated by others and with different operating systems. It has been improved upon by Apple each year, adding more bells and whistles to that shiny veneer. And it has been the one thing that has kept Apple stock and profits in the stratosphere.

Of course, as with any innovation well into its umpteenth iteration, you have to wonder exactly what they could possibly add to make this worth buying, especially if the older iPhone in your pocket or purse still works fine. With new phones costing more than $1500 at the top end of the product line, it better be good, even if your phone carrier is willing to float you a 30-month interest-free financing plan.

The trend in recent years has been toward less frequent replacements. As of last year, data showed that more iPhone owners are keeping their phones three years or longer before buying a new one. As for me, my iPhone 12 will be four years old this November. Yes, the battery is showing signs of decay, but I bring along a small power brick for those times when it starts to run low. Photos and videos are enormous battery sucks, and if you shoot like me, it doesn’t take long. That brick was a lifesaver in Costa Rica last year.

This year, though, I am betting the iPhone16 will be a runaway success, because there is one significant enhancement: the arrival of AI, or as they like to call it, Apple Intelligence. A rose by any other name, of course, smells the same, but it will be cool to have a handheld computer that is capable of creating text and images on the fly without having to log in to other websites.

Were it not for AI, I doubt that I would be ready to make a move, and I bet that is the same story for many. We need something big when the product is so expensive. Never mind inflation, economic uncertainties, and all the problems plaguing us these days.

Not many years ago, some people replaced their iPhones each year, just like a few decades ago, it wasn’t uncommon for motorists to line up to buy the latest new model every autumn. How else do you explain the Cadillac Ranch, a tribute to the auto industry’s ability to wow drivers with a slightly larger tail fin every year?

But cars are too expensive for that kind of frivolity today, unless you are made of money, and the same goes for iPhones. Marketers can only dangle new products successfully when there are both willingness and means. If either are in short supply—willingness because the new item truly is impressive, and means translating into ability to pay—then we won’t jump.

I guess we’ll all learn a bit more tomorrow, about ourselves, as well as Apple’s ongoing profitability. I’ll be watching.

Dr “But Can You Make The Camera Even Better?” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[minimomoe]

Secret Wish

Aizawa x reader

birthday fluff for the birthday man

“Okayyy. Promise not to laugh,” you warned. You stood on your tiptoes behind Shouta, teetering side to side as you kept your hands over his eyes. He let out a short chuckle but went along with your whims. You guided him until he nearly bumped into the dining table where you muttered an apology and helped him sit down. You removed your hands from his eyes but told him to keep them closed or else .

Shouta dutifully kept his eyes shut for the sake of what you had planned. He heard you shuffling around him, glasses clinking together, utensils hitting the table, chairs being pushed back. He almost gave in to take a peek but he heard you clear your voice.

“Open!”

He slowly peeled open his eyes and staring back at him was a heartfelt yet lopsided chocolate cake. It was two tiers, one side sliding into the plate beneath it, with white piping that tried its best to add some dimension. On the top of it there was some lettering that Aizawa had a hard time reading since it was a poor attempt to write in cursive with too thin of icing. You watched his eyebrows knit together and chuckled. “It says ‘For my Sleepy Scorpio’. Making a cake is a lot harder than it seems,” you nervously giggled.

The single candle in the center of the cake flickered in the low lighting. Shouta hadn’t said anything since he opened his eyes and you began to feel nervous. What if he secretly hated chocolate? Was the actively falling cake too ugly to maintain a pretense? You didn’t even know what you did wrong for that to happen. Maybe the flowers were an overkill, but guys should be romanced as well, right? You dug a deep mental hole in which you wished you could jump into until Shouta finally came to.

“This is for me?” He asked quietly.

“What? Of course it is! It’s officially been your birthday for…” you looked behind him to view the time on the wall, “Two minutes! Happy birthday, old man.”

“You remembered my birthday?” He said in a faraway voice. Your gaze softened and you walked to Shouta’s side. Even sitting down he was still shoulder height to you. Gently pulling his head to your chest you began to stroke his hair.

“You’re one of the most important people in my life right now, Shouta. Not Erasure Head the pro hero, not Mr. Aizawa the teacher, but Shouta. The one who seems to attract cats like you’re Snow White. The one who can fall asleep anytime, anywhere. The one who’s surprisingly a good cook.”

“Surprisingly?” His voice rumbled across your body and you paused running your hand on his head for a short moment.

“I figured you wouldn’t stay up on your feet for that long if you didn’t have to. You also have a surprising knack at sewing.”

“You know how many costumes I’ve torn through? It’s sometimes easier to just fix it myself,” he sighed, booking his arm around your waist. “And I enjoy cooking because of you,” he mumbled. Your heart fluttered from the statement and you was sure he could hear it racing. You looked at the dancing candle and rested your head on his.

“I hope we spend many more birthdays together,” you murmured. “I want us to go well into our nineties, hundreds even.”

“My knees won’t last that long.”

“I’m sure that cyborg surgery will be a thing by then so don’t worry about that,” you whispered and pressed a kiss on his head. “Go ahead, make a wish.”

Shouta pulled you into his lap and you dragged the plate with the cake closer to him. He watched the flame bounce around and held you even closer to his body. He leaned forward and blew out the candle without any flourish and then both watched the curling smoke in silence.

“Happy birthday, love. I’m glad I got to celebrate it with you first,” you held his face with both hands and placed a kiss on his lips.

“Again,” he muttered, and you grinned into his lips again. You peppered his whole face with kisses and Shouta hummed contentedly.

“What did you wish for?” You asked slyly. You cut out a rather large piece of cake for the both of you to share and Shouta glanced up at you.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a secret?”

“Woww so you’re keeping secrets between us?”

Shouta snorted and picked up a fork to feed you a piece of cake. You fed each other back and forth, and he sang praises for your cake despite the outward appearance.

“People still love the leaning tower of Pisa, so I can enjoy my little mudslide cake” he teases.

“Mudslide?!”

You both sat in the near darkness for hours, talking about anything that came to mind, and Shouta put his head in your chest again.

“Thank you. I’m actually enjoying my birthday for once.”

“Don’t thank me yet, there’s still more to come,” you used your thumb to clean off icing from the corner of your mouth and smiled.

“You already know that Mic has something planned for you and we’re gonna have to see what it is.”

“He’s always ruining my plans,” he groaned.

“And what would that be?”

“Wanna see?” He suddenly got up, gripping your thighs tightly and leading them into his bedroom.

“I still have presents for you!”

“I’m about to open one right now,” he smirked, and he closed the door behind him.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[localwebslingers]

He jumped out of the way of another rocket that he didn't have the time to try and catch, watching it explode in the air instead, and looked up to see Goblin throw a robot dog off the roof, "Eagle drones, robot dogs, do you think they'll pull out bionic goldfish next?" Peter asked. Not that he expected an answer but it seemed like they were going to have to keep an eye out for more mechanical creatures. Just to be safe. And more glowing weapons too, if the swords had been anything to go by. Whoever these guys were, they had some serious tech at their disposal.

At the warning he crouched down and shot two webs at the done coming for him and pulled it hard. Slamming it first into the ground, then over to the side, and finally thrown over to another rooftop where he wastched it explode on impact. Huh, okay, that was a really good thing to know about. He wondered if the dogs would do that too if they were hit enough in the right way. Definitely a thing to watch for, "Thanks!"

The remaining birds were glanced around at. Most of them had already been taken out by the two of them, though Peter was pretty sure Goblin had handled most of them. He looked over and paused seeing the bomb, "Don't you think that's kinda overkill for the birds that are left, Gobbie?" unless it wasn't one of the exploding bombs but honestly they all looked nearly identicle to him. It wasn't until moments before they went off that his spider sense usually caught if it was a danger or just a smoke screen to let Goblin escape.

Peter looked back into the air with the drones and nodded, "Birds first, then snipers, got it." he paused and pointed off to the side, "See that computer setup over there? The one I was on when you tried to surprise me. I've been tracking these guys down for the last week and that is the first actual lead I've had the whole time. If you don't count them trying to impale us on mechanical beaks and arrows." which, personally, he did not. That wasn't really a lead, more like a consequence of snooping around for things people didn't want him to know.

Something that Spider-Man was really good at. A glance was given back to Goblin, "We take care of these guys, take that, and I'm willing to extend the truce so we both can see what's on it if you are. Sound like a plan to you?"

A pair of swords, followed by a hunter, and the Goblin saw his chance as soon as Spider-Man webbed the hunter's face: he was jumping back onto the rooftop and kicking the hunter's chest away, while reaching to grab the selfsame swords that had snatched his attention.

He knew better than to keep them, because they might have a tracker on them, but if they were going to end up in close quarters, well, the Goblin knew how to wield a sword, and it would give him more reach than a dagger. And so he tested them as fast as he could, stepping away from Spider-Man as his offer was considered and eyeing the next hunter approaching.

This one was fast enough to duck and avoid the sword that was now Harry's, but not enough to prevent Harry from kicking him on the chest and off the rooftop, against one of the drones, before walking again onto the Glider.

And there came the question: had he worked in a team in the past?

"I'm a good team player." He replied, in a way that felt more like a bluff than a truth, for all that the Goblin believed himself smart enough to figure it out... and he'd worked in a team, in the past. Just not in the battlefield.

And not with enormous metallic dogs jumping on him, requiring all his strength not to fall from the glider and forcing him to drop a sword to hold the robot's mouth closed. Apparently, he realized, they could climb.

And then he threw it off the rooftop as well, instead of at Spider-Man, because he was indeed a good team player.

"Rooftop at your ten." He suggested, fishing a pumpkin bomb with his one free hand. "We get rid of the birds, then we go for the snipers?"

And if the next hunter to approach took a smoke bomb to their face, well, they only had themselves to blame. But he needed to see if the hunter drones could target through smoke, and he could definitely fight through it, thanks to his tech and senses.

He... just hoped Spidey could. Or that he'd target the birds instead.