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puckinghischier · 8 months ago

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Tentastrophe

Nico Hischier x Fem!reader

summary: reader and nico are in a secret relationship while on a camping trip together

notes: hi lovies! i got this request from my dear 🏔️ anon so i had to get right on it!! this was so fun to write and even more fun to play out in my head while i was writing it 🤭. also i had no clue what to name it so i quite literally just made up a word 🫣. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: We’re camping and my tent ripped, can I please share yours?

[5.1k]

You hated the outdoors. Truly, you despised being outside.

You hated bugs, you were scared of wild animals, you hated the heat, you hated dirt, grass made you itchy, and you really hate the lack of indoor plumbing.

Literally, how do people enjoy spending a week out in the middle of nowhere, no signal for miles, no air conditioning, and eating the same four types of canned food? Not to mention your dislike of sleeping bags.

Who wants to sleep on a flimsy piece of material on the hard ground for days at a time? It’s just simply not appealing.

You continue to list off the things in your head you hate about camping and the outdoors in general while watching yourself be driven farther and farther away from the city through the windshield of Jack’s SUV.

“Oh c’mon, Y/N, don’t look like someone just kicked a puppy in front of you,” you hear from the front seat, Jack looking at you through his rear-view mirror.

You roll your eyes at him.

“Jack, I’m being taken to a remote location against my will with no access to a bathroom or civilization for seven whole days. At least if someone kicked a puppy in front of me, it’d be over sooner.”

“Woah, so you’re advocating for puppy kickers now, are you?” A new voice rings out, this one belonging to Dawson, who occupies the seat against the window beside of you.

“She’s not advocating for it, Dawson, she’s just saying she’d prefer it to being stuck in the woods with you for a week straight,” Holtzy responds from your other side, having been sandwiched between the two in the backseat of Jack’s car for the hour and a half ride to your unfortunate destination.

Dawson reaches behind your head to smack Alex’s. Alex tries to retaliate, and suddenly you have two hockey players trying to fight each other on either side of your body.

“Hey! Cut it out before you hurt Y/N! Coach needs her to get good footage this weekend,” Luke yells at the two forwards.

“Wow, thanks for showing me where my worth lies, Luke,” you deadpan.

Luke flashes you a grin before turning back around in his seat. “You’re welcome.”

You stick your tongue out at him, knowing he’s just teasing you.

When you applied for a marketing internship at the Prudential Center a year ago, you had no idea that you would become so invested in this world. After the initial six month period of your internship was over, you were making plans to find work elsewhere when you were approached by the team’s GM and asked if you were interested in staying on full time as the new social media manager.

You immediately agreed, knowing you had found your passion with working in sports and wanted to stick with it for as long as you could. It didn’t hurt that you had become such good friends with a handful of the players close to your age, four of which were in the same car as you right now.

You and Jack were the closest, though. The two of you bonded over your shared love of country music, a rare find outside of your southern hometown. You had found other interests in common, too, but becoming each other’s country music concert buddy is to credit for much of your friendship.

You grew close to Luke simply because of your proximity to Jack, but found that he’s become a little brother to you. People always assumed there was more than friendship going on between you and Jack, but both of the Hughes boys had become the brothers you never had, no feelings beyond that ever surfacing.

As your job continued to cause you to spend time with the team, you found yourself growing closer to other players as well.

Nico was another player you found yourself talking to long after your work duties were done for the day. Whether it was chatting before practice, pulling him a little too frequently to do interviews or make videos, or grabbing a bite to eat after practice and games because neither one of you wanted to end your conversations, you found the Swiss captain occupying a large chunk of your time both at work and outside of work.

Which doesn’t make it all that surprising that he asked you to be his girlfriend three months ago.

After a huge win over the Islanders at home, the entire team had decided to go out to celebrate. You had caught a ride with Jack that morning, but when you were searching for him so you could leave, he was nowhere to be found, already gone to whatever bar everyone had agreed on.

Nico had stayed behind to do a few extra post-game interviews, so when you bumped into him outside of the locker rooms on your search for Jack, he offered you a ride. You had mentioned how hungry you were, telling him you should probably go home and grab something to eat and change before getting an uber to the bar, but Nico had pulled into the first late-night diner he saw after you mentioned your lack of eating dinner.

The two of you sat in the 50’s themed diner for hours, ignoring all the calls and texts asking where you were and why you didn’t come out to celebrate. You didn’t even realize how late it was until you received a text from Jack, asking that you call him when you got up so he knew you made it home safe, apologizing for forgetting you at the arena.

Nico walked you up to your apartment after driving you home that night, despite the fact it was after three in the morning and they had a mid-day practice the next day. You still don’t know if it was the high of winning or the late hour, but he decided to kiss you at your doorstep that night. Three days later, he asked you to be his girlfriend because he told you he couldn’t stand not being exclusive with you for a second longer.

No one knew, though. You kept on acting as if nothing had changed at work, and no one caught on otherwise. You decided it was fun to keep it to yourselves, enjoying being each other’s secret. You didn’t know the policy on dating your coworkers, either, so you didn’t want to risk anything by outing the relationship this early.

You felt bad lying and sneaking around Jack and Luke, especially, but you’ll tell them eventually. You enjoyed having no eyes on you, your relationship being simply between you and Nico right now. When you tell your friends and the rest of the team, it’ll be out there for good. Fans will find out, your boss will find out, and then your small bubble of Nico will burst.

That’s another reason you dread this weekend. Not only do you just hate camping and being outside for long periods of time, you’re going to be stuck being around Nico for a week straight with no chance to be his girlfriend instead of his coworker.

The trip is the team’s pre-season bonding activity, so you’re tagging along to capture material for future videos and pictures for the various social media pages and website. You had tried to send one of the other members of your media team, not thrilled at the idea of a camping retreat, but the head coach had requested you, specifically, because of your ability to convince the players to participate in various trends and videos.

You owe some of that to Nico, of course. After the two of you formed a friendship, he started telling his teammates they had to participate in whatever silly tasks you asked of them or he’d start reporting them to coach for making your job harder. Since his forceful request, you rarely had to fight to get any of the players to do the latest trending dance, or answer silly questions as they get on the ice before practice.

Unfortunately for you, this means the higher ups see your success and suddenly you’re volunteered to do things like this. And really, what kind of social media content can you create when you won’t even have cell service?

Tuning back into your surroundings, you notice you’re almost to the campground you’ll call home this week. You were so lost in your own head that you barely even noticed the four (grown) men in this car with you singing loudly to the F.U.N. song from none other than Spongebob Squarepants.

Jack and Luke were duetting the song, Jack taking the sponge’s part and Luke singing Plankton’s lines. Dawson and Alex were simply adding harmonies.

You were in for a long week.

———————————————————————————

“Who in their right mind would put a twenty-four year old teenage girl in charge of putting together her own tent?” you whine out as Curtis walks over to see you trying to read the directions for putting together the tent laid out in front of you.

“Honey, I think you’re a little too old to be calling yourself a teenage girl,” he chuckles as he kneels beside you, taking the instructions out of your hands.

“I’m just a girl, Lazar. I will always be a teenage girl at my core, no matter what age I am. Therefore, I’m a twenty-four year old teenage girl. And I’m extremely incapable of building a fucking tent,” you cry out, crossing your arms and huffing.

Curtis just shakes his head and laughs, grabbing the rods that go inside of the tent to give it structure, putting it together for you.

You sit back and watch, trying to help where you can, but ultimately being reverted back to the role of ‘holding the flashlight for dad’, but instead you’re ‘holding the mallet for Curtis’.

Halfway through putting your tent up, you see Nico start walking in your direction. You admire your boyfriend, his tan skin showing due to his green t-shirt being stuck in the pocket of his athletic shorts instead of on his torso. His black hat sits backwards on his head, hiding what you’re sure is sweaty hair. His favorite pair of sunglasses rest on his nose.

“Already making the guys do your dirty work, how dare you, Y/N,” Nico teases as he stops to stand in front of where you’re sitting on the ground.

“Listen, one perk of being a woman in sports is the fact that I’m always surrounded by men just waiting to save the damsel in distress,” you put your hand across your forehead to hide the sun from your eyes, squinting your eyes as you look up at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, flashing you a smile.

“Need any help, Curtis?” Nico calls out, but keeps his eyes on you.

“I think I’m nearly done, but if you want to start hammering the stakes in the ground that’d be great,” Curtis replies, not even looking up from the tent that had now taken shape.

“Sure thing. The mallet, please,” he reaches his hand out to you.

You hand Nico the mallet, looking up at him with an amused grin. “Get to it, time to do manly stuff and go pound on something .”

You start to stand and Nico shoots his other hand out for you to grab onto, helping you heave yourself off the ground.

Once you’re stood in front of Nico, he pulls your hand toward him so you’re standing dangerously close to him, your chests nearly touching. You look around, making sure no one sees the position the two of you are in right now.

Nico leans down, lips grazing your ear as he whispers “Unless you want me to drag you behind a tree and do extremely un-coworker type things to you with the entire team right here, I suggest you don’t talk about pounding anymore this weekend.”

A shiver makes it way down your spine as Nico steps back, walking over to where Curtis is now standing, turning to face the two of you.

You hope he assumes the redness on your face is because of the warm sun, and not because his captain just threatened to do R rated things to you behind a tree.

Ten minutes later, your tent is fully assembled and you’re blowing up your air mattress with a battery powered pump that’s seen better days.

Jack had laughed at your for bringing an air mattress, claiming it’s not really camping if you don’t sleep in a sleeping bag. You told him you refused to sleep on the ground with just a thin bag underneath you for the whole week. If you had to be here, you were going to make yourself as comfortable as you could.

You even brought a battery powered fan to sit in front of your bed incase you got hot at night, but you learned very quickly that even though it’s hot and humid during the day, the night is chilly and dark.

After everyone had settled in and the sun had set, Timo had managed to start a fire, placing hot dogs on a small grate he placed next to the fire while Jesper worked on opening cans of various types of vegetables to heat along side the sausages.

You laughed to yourself, knowing the team nutritionist would develop an eye twitch seeing what foods will be consumed by the players this week. The amount of sodium and carbs in the containers of food for the week were definitely not in line with the meal plan.

Finding a spot next to Jack, you go sit on one of the various logs around the fire, needing the heat to warm your chilled skin. Music played out of a speaker sitting on the picnic table behind the logs, one of your favorite country songs filling the space.

“Nice choice, it’s one of my favorites,” you nudge Jack’s shoulder as you sat down, assuming he had control of the music.

“Yeah it’s a good one, but don’t look at me. Cap’s the one with the aux right now,” he says, pointing to where Nico is standing by a tree, red solo cup in his hand.

You turn your head and make eye contact with him, his eyes having already found you. The raise of his cup and tilt of his head telling you he played this song specifically for you. Your face heats and you smile at the ground, trying to keep the grin from stretching too wide, not wanting to raise suspicion from the brunette to your right.

“Y’know, I wonder why Cap has any country music in his playlist at all, because last I checked, his phone was full of rap and Swiss music and he told me country was his least favorite genre,” Jack starts, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music and chatter. “But then I remembered, I see you and him talking an awful lot after practice, before practice, and everywhere in-between.” You feel like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water on your head, worried Jack’s figured the two of you out. “You’re not cheating on your music buddy, are you?” he asks, looking at you suspiciously.

Relief washes over you. He just thinks you’re sharing music with Nico. Not that you’re seeing Nico behind everyone’s back.

“I might have mentioned a few good artists to him. But don’t worry, concerts are still reserved for you,” you bump his shoulder again.

“Mhmmm. Must have taken a lot of convincing to make a rap loving Swiss man convert to Zach Bryan,” Jack hums, still looking at you suspiciously.

“Just a few links sent is all,” you tell him, noticing he’s just staring at you. “What?” you ask, leaning back a bit.

“Nothing,” Jack shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with an idea. “Just thinking…have you ever thought about going out with Cap?”

You choke on air. You try to recover with a cough, claiming you swallowed the wrong way. “What, what do you mean?”

“You know, like you and Cap. Going on a date. Dating. I think you two would be good together. You guys already seem friendly enough, and he’s a great guy. Plus, I can see the way you look at him, Y/N. You definitely have a crush on the guy,” Jack teases.

You start laughing. Jack is confused by your reaction, not thinking his suggestion was funny at all, but you can’t stop the laughs from escaping.

“Oh, Jack. You’re funny,” you tell him once you calm yourself down. “That’s nice, but nah. I don’t think Nico and I should go there. Too many things could go wrong, y’know? Plus, who even knows if I’m allowed to date any of you guys. Workplace romances are frowned upon in most jobs, you know.”

“Okay, it wasn’t that comical of a suggestion. I was being serious, I think you guys would be great together. To hell with the rules. I can tell when two people are into each other,” Jack says with a hint of annoyance, not appreciating your little laughing outburst.

A look of surprise makes its way onto your face at his comment that he thinks Nico is into you, too. Maybe the two of you weren’t doing such a good job at acting normal around the team. You succeed at suppressing the laughter this time, figuring a second outburst would really make Jack upset. “Oh, you think he’s into me, do you?”

Jack looks at you like you just asked him if the sky was blue.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, he literally jumps at the chance to be in any of your tik tok videos and he threatened the whole team so they would quit, and I quote, ‘making your job harder and just fucking do what you ask’ or he’d report us to coach.”

You can’t help but giggle this time, of course knowing all of this, Nico having told you himself after he did it, but you can’t let Jack know that.

“I don’t know, Jack, that doesn’t exactly sound like something he’d do. What does he get out of it? More interruptions during practice? More attention on social media? Doesn’t sound like Nico if you ask me,” you tell him, trying to play dumb.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe he gets to spend more time with you. He gets on your good side, helps make your job easier while making ours harder. Earns brownie points to butter you up so you say yes to a date one of these days,” Jack leans his head towards yours, looking up at you like he’s just proven his point.

You steal a glance over at Nico, his head cocked, silently asking what you and Jack are talking about. You shake your head with a smile, telling him its unimportant with the roll of your eyes.

“I don’t know, Jack. We’ll see, I guess,” you sing song, earning a sigh from the boy to your right.

“You’re hopeless, both of you. I need another beer,” he gets up, leaving you on the bench by yourself, chuckling at just how right your best friend is.

After all of the burnt hot dogs and lukewarm veggies were eaten, it was time to for everyone to retire to their tents.

All of the players had to double up on tents, you and the coach being the only two people with their own. The players that were sharing tents on this trip would be sharing hotel rooms all season, so the bonding began with them being able to exist in the same space for an extended period of time.

Your tent sat about 50 feet from Jack and Luke’s. Nico’s tent was in the row of tents in front of yours, three tents separating the two of you.

You quickly made your way to your own tent and started getting ready for bed. Not being able to wash your face or do you proper skincare routine, you settled for brushing your teeth with a warm bottle of water and applying lotion to your face before crawling into your make-shift bed for the week. You hadn’t packed nearly enough blankets, seeing as you assumed it would be warm inside your tent, but you were chilled to the bone. You kept your sweatshirt on, opting for a pair of sweatpants instead of the skimpy sleeping shorts you brought.

You settled into your bed, switching off the small lantern you had been provided.

You laid there for what felt like ages trying to fall asleep. Every little snap of a twig or rustle of leaves made you scared a bear was about to claw its way through your tent.

You thought you had imagined it at first, assuming the wind was blowing and causing your tent to slightly ruffle in the wind. But when it happened a second time, this time the sound of something fiddling with the zipper of your tent following the ruffling, you were starting to panic.

You sat up, pulling the blanket to your chin as you saw a hand push on the door of your tent, a quiet yelp making its way out of you.

“Shhh, it’s just me, let me in,” you hear the familiar, accented voice of your boyfriend ring out, huffing while walking over and unzipping your tent just enough for him to slip through.

You walk back over to your air mattress, turning on the small lantern, looking at Nico standing in the middle of your tent. He was wearing a tan sherpa fleece with plaid pajama bottoms. He had to hunch over slightly, his height being too tall for your small tent.

“What the hell are you doing in here? You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” you whisper yelled at him, careful to not raise your voice too high as to not wake any of his teammates.

“My tent ripped, can I please share yours?” Nico asks with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, yeah? If your tent ripped then where’s Jesper sleeping, huh?” you raise your eyebrow and cross your arms.

“I just left him to fend for himself. Didn’t exactly want to invite him to sleep in here with us. Never know what he might see,” he walks towards you, placing his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

He looks down at you, your position mirroring earlier when this exact tent was being assembled, but you had no fear of anyone seeing you now.

“Hi, Schatz.”

You giggle up at him, unraveling your arms and placing them on his shoulders. “Hi Neeks.”

“I’ve been waiting all day to do this,” he mumbles before bringing his face down to yours.

You lean up on your tip toes to meet his lips, sighing contently into the kiss.

Nico pulls you closer, no space left between your bodies as his sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing against him into the kiss.

His tongue swipes across your lips, asking for entrance, and who are you to deny his wish? His tongue slips into your mouth, effectively deepening the kiss.

Nico walks you backwards until you plop down onto your air mattress, bringing his knee to rest in-between your legs, his forearms on either side of your head to support his weight.

You tug on his hair slightly, earning a groan in response. He starts grinding his pelvis against your thigh, which was your sign to stop this before it got too out of hand.

You pull back, pushing him up off of you slightly. He looks down at you with blown pupils and swollen lips. “Alright, tiger, slow down. We’re not having sex with several tents full of your entire team a few feet away.”

Nico deflates and brings his forehead to rest against your shoulder. “You couldn’t have told me that before I got a stiffie?”

“Sorry, shouldn’t have let yourself get so worked up. Should’ve known I wasn’t going to go there with this many people around,” you laugh at his whiney tone.

He rolls off of you onto his back, slinging his arm over his eyes.

“What are you doing? Quit being so dramatic,” you roll your eyes, trying to grab his arm and remove it from his face.

“Stop, trying to think of sad puppies to make my boner go away,” he swats your hand off of his arm.

You bust out laughing for the second time tonight, but this time you throw a hand over your mouth to stop the noise. The conversation about puppies in the car on the way here earlier making its way to your mind, making you laugh even harder.

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” Nico finally says, sitting up.

“Good. Don’t even think about getting handsy, either. This,” you gesture between you and Nico, “is not happening tonight. Or any night this week, for that matter.”

“Got it. You don’t want any of my teammates to hear you scream my name while my tongue is ins-“ you slap a hand over Nico’s mouth, not letting him finish that sentence.

His eyes shine with amusement at you, seeing your own wide in surprise. “Can I trust you to take my hand off of your mouth?” you ask him.

Nico shakes his head, but not before he darts his tongue out and licks a stripe up the palm of your hand, causing it to fly off of his mouth.

“Okay, you’re disgusting,” you scold him, wiping you hand on the blanket you’re both sitting on top of.

Nico just laughs at you in response, finding your annoyed expression amusing.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed. I’m already sick of you and the week hasn’t even started yet,” you tell him, pulling the blanket back so you can settle under it.

Nico follows your lead and places himself under the blanket at well, pulling your body close to his.

You lay your head on one end of your pillow while Nico places his on the other end, not having brought his own from his tent. The two of you just lay there facing each other for awhile before you remember to reach over and turn off the lantern once again.

You’re appreciative of the new warmth Nico brings to your bed, finally feeling yourself get sleepy.

“Wait, how are you going to know when to wake up before everyone else and go back to your tent?” you ask him, knowing his phone was in his vehicle, none of the players allowed their devices with them. You and coach were the only ones with phone privileges this week, even though they didn’t even work out here.

“Don’t worry, I will. First time I wake up I’ll sneak out, don’t worry,” he assures you, kissing you on the forehead before pulling your body flush to his, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Neither one of you must have woken up at all during the night, though, because when you wake up the next morning to the screams of “I knew it! I knew they were into each other! I told you so!” from your best friend as he stood inside your tent at the end of your bed with not only Luke, but with half of the team standing outside the wide open door of your tent, you were confused until you felt the weight of a body against yours. You open your eyes to see Nico’s scrunched face, the noise waking him up as well.

You both roll over and open your eyes, noticing your audience.

“I called it! I knew there was something going on here! How long have you two been together?” Jack bombards the two of you with questions despite you having literally just woke up.

“Get the hell out of this tent before I get coach to make everyone run three miles today,” Nico grumbles, his voice gravely from the early hour.

“No way, we need an explanation,” Dawson speaks this time, his expression matching Jack’s pleased one.

“You’ll get your explanation, but for right now, get out. Let us actually wake up without fifty people in our fucking tent. Now go, get out,” Nico pulls you closer to him, hiding your face in his chest and slinging a leg over your own.

“But-“ Jack starts again, but Nico removes an arm from around you and points at the door, “OUT!” he says sternly, his captain voice making an appearance.

The group of men start grumbling, but ultimately leaving your tent, zipping your door back up so you and Nico could have a bit of privacy again.

“Nico, you didn’t wake up,” you say, your voice muffled because of how close he’s holding you to his body.

“Sorry, Schatz. Was sleeping too good, I guess. Always happens when I’m sleeping with you. You’re like my own personal melatonin.”

You chuckle at him, not really mad that everyone found out, just wishing they hadn’t found you asleep together on a tiny air mattress.

“At least the boys know now. Now I don’t have to keep sneaking around at practice. I can stare at your ass loud and proud now,” Nico says, detaching himself from you and rolling over onto his back, rubbing his eyes.

You reach over and hit him in the chest. “This doesn’t give you permission to say innapropriate things to me while we’re at work.”

He rolls his head to look over at you, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiles innocently, causing your to roll your own eyes and sigh at him.

“Hey! You guys better not be having sex in there! I’m implementing a no bone zone when I’m within a hundred feet of you two! Get your asses out here and get to explaining!” you heard Jack shout once again, beating his fist on the side of the tent.

You bring your hands up to cover your face, embarrassment flooding your veins.

“Jack! Suit up, you’re coming with me on a little run,” you hear coach shout, earning a “Shit, Nico this is your fault!” from Jack.

You burst into a fit of giggles.

You can’t help but feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest, not having to lie to some of your closest friends anymore. You also foresee your week of no time with Nico changing slightly, figuring Jesper will be down a roommate for the remainder of the week.

Nothing, though, not even sharing a tent with Nico, or sneaking off to find open areas to gaze at the stars at night, could make you like camping.

You almost change your mind the night Nico takes you to a clearing, laying a blanket on the soft grass to stare up at the sky before he gifts you a necklace with his initial on it, the engraving on the back echoing the small “I love you” he whispers in your ear as he clasps the jewelry onto your neck.

You almost thought you liked camping then, until you walked back to you tent to find Nico had left it unzipped and a possum had made a home in the corner, hissing at him as you screamed loud enough to wake the whole team.

Yeah, you hate camping.

1K notes · View notes

letorip · 7 months ago

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kiss with a fist [ii]

"Blood sticks, sweat drips, break the lock if it don't fit, a kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you signed up to help tara with her stupid plan. not whatever the hell one would call this.

warnings: implied sex, use of alcohol, puking, arguing loudly and wrongly, curse words(?)

word count: 5.2k

A/N: sorry to make you wait so long, but here's the second part. there will probably be a third, so fear not, the story doesn't end here. i originally thought i would be able to just end it off right here, but it’s going kind of really well and i think a third or maybe even a fourth part is more reasonable

===+++===

For almost the entire walk to the frat house, Tara didn't actually say much. It surprised you too, the way she just glanced around the city that passed as you walked and fiddled with her nails. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but you were so used to Tara having something to say that it made you speak instead.

"Wow, for once, you're speechless," you commented as you passed under a streetlight. Tara shot you a glare, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

"Would it kill you to shut the hell up?"

“There we go, back to normal. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” she scoffed. “Mind your own business.”

"I'm just saying."

"Well don't say. Don't say."

===+++===

The party fucking sucked. It was quintessential college, with frat boys who attempted to yell over the loud music that rattled your eardrums. Coolers upon coolers of shitty, cheap beer sat against the far wall, and a crowd had gathered around them to pick off all the free alcohol they could. Maybe a year ago this would’ve been fun. Now you found yourself disenchanted with the ordeal.

Tara was off god knows where, doing god knows what, which you figured was the point of the arrangement anyway. You weren’t too concerned with tracking her down, especially if situation also presented itself as a pleasant bonus— not having to put up with her.

Chad had wandered out of the room when he saw you and Tara arrive together hand in hand, going deeper into the party without a word. He was usually the one you hung around with at these kinds of things, but he had been a sad little dog with his tail between his legs since you and Tara announced you were meant to be a few days before the party. It seemed some of your friends were still adjusting.

The immediate reaction after Tara said “soooo, we’re together,” was to laugh, like you two were doing a bit. It got less funny when they saw you both blankly staring back at them and then Tara grabbed your hand and held it up with a forced smile.

The whole group was going through a somewhat awkward seven stages of grief thing. Chad was avoiding you completely, Quinn was a bit annoyed you were off the market now after an egregious few months of hitting on you, and Ethan was the only one to be a bit normal, even though it was clear he too had a crush on Tara and was disappointed with the matter.

When Mindy had gotten over her disbelief, she dove right into an endless game of questions, only occasionally staved off by Anika. "So who confessed first?" had been one of the first ones, accompanied by a glint in her eye. Tara jumped in before you could even open your mouth, eager to answer.

"(Y/n) showed up on my porch, all sweaty and disgusting looking, just smelling so unbelievably bad it was overpowering-”

“I had been working out,” you rolled your eyes. “That’s why I was sweaty."

“Mhm, whatever. Anyways, apparently they were just being such an asshole because they were in love with me," Tara said, with a wide, shit-eating grin. "Right?"

You had to hide your glare behind your solo cup. "Mhm. I was just overflowing with it. I have so many things to say about you."

“All nice things,” Tara corrected.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Was it?”

“Uh huh.”

Mindy’s questions followed you everywhere she did. Who kissed who first? Who’s more cuddly? Have you guys slept together yet? They volleyed back and forth and you and Tara fought for the first word each time to pin it to the other with gleeful sadism. Of course, it was then flipped around once the next question came and you would huff in annoyance at the other for being an asshole.

It wasn’t as bad of an arrangement as you had dreaded. You only had to be couple-y when other people were watching you two interact, or when Sam would glare in suspicion. Hold hands a few times, smile, share a glance. Other than that, things stayed mostly the same. The group probably appreciated you both not acting head over heels for the other and you liked it because it meant you didn't have to pretend to like her.

Tara had a brazen way about her that made you roll your eyes. She never took no for an answer, had a teasing remark for anything, and always felt the need to be doing something. Other people seemed to find themselves charmed by it. Others, but not you. Never you.

The walk there had been about all she could take of your personality, and the moment after you two were seen together, she ditched you at the door and wandered off to the dance floor. After that you had lost track of her, and ended up splitting your time between the kitchen, the bathroom, and the front room, away from the crowd. Mindy found you there, tugging Anika along with her.

"Cut the bullshit," She said with an eye roll, sitting right down on the couch in front of you. Anika plopped down next to her. "There's no way in hell you got together with Tara."

You grinned, sipping your beer and partially using it to block your expression. "No, we're together. I really like her."

Mindy scoffed. "You're a terrible liar." Your cheeks warmed and you tilted your head to the side.

"We have to separate you two like warring chihuahuas every time we hang out together," Anika said. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes in a study of your face. "You're not confessing your undying love."

"I did."

"You didn't!" Mindy said, and she threw up her arms.

"I did."

"You didn't," Anika snorted.

"I...," you looked at them both, "...are you guys going to snitch?"

"Snitch to who?" asked Mindy. Now they were both leaned in, like eager children around a campfire. You swallowed.

"Sam." Mindy blinked. Then she sat back.

"What the hell did Tara get you involved in?" she asked. As much as Sam was part of your group, it was known not to fuck with her, and that's exactly what Tara was making you do.

You frowned. If anyone was going to ruin the plan, it probably wouldn't be Mindy or Anika. "You can't tell Chad, but we're not actually together."

Anika raised her eyebrows and shot Mindy a glance. "That didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out." You shrugged.

"Well, we fooled Sam. Tara needs a fake partner so she can go to parties and see people and stuff. And, well, you know how Sam is about that stuff."

Mindy crossed her arms. "And you said sure?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I didn't really see why not. Plus, she was being super annoying about it. Showed up at my house. She was begging, almost."

"So, you what, took pity?" Anika asked, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes.

"Trust me, it's not because it's fun. She's way too annoying and she'd probably say the same thing about me."

Mindy frowned, looking out the doorway and into the booming party. "Chad wouldn't like it."

You sent her a worried look. "Please please please, don't tell Chad. I know he's upset by the whole thing, but Sam would literally kill me if she knew I was helping Tara run around town."

"I don't know...," she said. "I know Tara wants freedom, but this is kind of bullshit, (Y/n)."

"It won't be for long. She just wants to meet someone. When she does, it's over. Life goes back to normal."

"Do you guys have a target in mind, or something?" Anika asked, a bit amused.

"Not even a little a bit. It’s like, her second party ever,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s really dead set on a person yet.”

“Well… she better figure it out soon.”

“Mhm.” You looked out the same glass door and into the booming party outside. Through the jumping crowd, you could see in the distance Tara, who was dancing with her eyes shut and a smile spread wide across her cheeks. She looked happy like that.

You took a swig of your beer.

===+++===

The boom of a fist on your door shook the thin walls of your apartment, and you jolted awake to hear three more hit the wood.

“OPEN UP (Y/N), NOW!”

Immediately, a headache washed over you and you groaned. You tried to smush your head into the pillow to make it go away but there were the banging fists again, and you sat up, letting your legs dangle off the edge.

“OPEN THE FUCK UP,” came the voice again, and you blinked. Oh shit. You knew that voice. You clambered to your feet and stumbled out your bedroom and down the hall in a dusty pair of shorts and shirt. “I’M NOT KIDDING! OPEN THE—”

You pulled the door open like a deer in headlights, seeing Sam seethe on the other side with her fist raised. Nostrils flared, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. She looked about ready to rip your head off.

“You,” she said, spitting the word. You flinched. “Where the fuck is Tara?!”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Had she not gone home the night before?? Things felt a little bit fuzzy still. You remembered grabbing another beer from Ethan and flopping down in an armchair, then another and another, and then maybe wandering home while the sun started to rise. Had you seriously lost track of the attempted murder victim on her first night out???

You blinked, already aware that your cheeks were a dusty pink. "I, uh... she, um..."

Her hands went to her hips, glaring at you expectantly. "Well?! Where the hell is my sister?!" When you were still staring like an idiot, she threw up her arms. "I fucking knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her! This is what I get"

You stared, feeling a lie (though probably a clunky one) come to your brain. "I think her phone must've died, but she just left."

Sam's eyebrows rose, but you weren't sure if it was in disbelief or even more rage. "What do you mean?"

"We, um," your eyes went to the floor, feeling her glare laser itself into you as you spoke. "We got super drunk last night at the party, and I brought her back here and we both fell asleep," you looked back up to see her giving your pyjamas a once over, nose wrinkled. You flushed. "No! No— we didn't do that. We just fell asleep."

Sam looked at you for a moment, then crossed her arms. "I waited all night for her, you know," she said.

You nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry, it won't happen again."

"It won't." Sam repeated. "When I don't hear from her for a whole night, you know what I assume happened, right? You know how that feels?"

You swallowed. "I do."

She sighed. "I'm really trying here. I know she doesn't want me worrying about her, and I know she wants freedom. So I'm trying, (Y/n). Don't make me regret it."

"I won't, Sam." It felt like a giant wedge in your throat, and you tried to smile at her but she continued to frown, and she turned around and walked off. The moment she was gone, you spun around and slammed the door. You dashed through your apartment, grabbing your phone off your nightstand and quickly pulling up her contact.

Little Shit (do not pick up). You pressed the button and put it up to your ear, wandering over to the nearby curtain and lifting it to look out onto the city. "Come on, come on," you pleaded aloud. "Fucking pick up, asshole."

After the third ring and a good prayer to god even though you weren't especially religious, it stopped ringing and you could hear her grumbling.

"Tara??" you rushed. "Tara, where are you?"

"Mmm," she groaned, "the hell do you want so early?"

You scoffed. "Tara it's almost noon." There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"What?"

"Uh huh," you grunted. "Your sister just almost ripped my door off it's fucking hinges because she doesn't know where you are. And you know what, neither do I!" There was some shuffling from her end, and then what sounded like running footsteps.

"I went home with this girl last night, I just woke up," she rushed. "Sam is going to kill me!"

"She almost killed me!" You almost yelled into the phone. Now that the worry had subsided you were left with anger. "She almost killed me because you wandered off and didn't go home."

"It's not like I meant to fall asleep," she argued back, and you could hear some talking in the background in faint voices. "I must've slept through my alarm— wait, what did you tell Sam?"

"That your phone died, and you were on your way home."

"WHAT?! (Y/n), this girl's apartment is at least fifteen to twenty minutes away," Tara said into the phone.

"Well it's not like I knew that, now is it?" you shot back, scratching your arm, "considering I didn't know if you were even alive until you picked up."

"God, not you too. I'm fine, drama queen."

"Drama queen?"

"Yeah, drama queen," Tara repeated, and more noises flooded in. It sounded as if she was in the city now, walking, "you sound just like Sam. I picked you because I thought you knew I didn't need a babysitter."

"That's not being babysat, Tara. That's making sure you're not dead," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"Good."

"Great."

"Fine!" you shot back.

"Awesome."

You sighed into the speaker. "Pick up some flowers or something on your way back. Claim that's why you're late."

"Good idea, actually," Tara hummed.

"I know." And you hung up.

===+++===

You found yourself at an identical party the very next Friday night too, and the Friday after that, and after that too. The walls were just as stained. It smelled just as full of mold. This one didn't have a front room for you to barricade in, so you sat at the bar top instead, in the kitchen with your chin rested on the cool granite.

It had taken a whole night to get rid of the hangover from a few weeks before, and in doing so you had remembered why it was exactly that you didn't find these things too fun, anyways. You hadn't gotten anywhere near as drunk since. Mindy and Anika had decided on date night instead, and Chad and Ethan were off to watch a movie that originally you would've been invited to, had it not been for Tara.

It was painful, that Chad was ducking you. The irony wasn't lost, that the more time you spent with your fake girlfriend at parties and outings like a couple, the closer you got to actually repairing your relationship with him. You still would've rather gone to the movie, though.

You could actually see Tara, from where you sat. Through the bar window in the kitchen, she was on the dance floor, moving along with the rhythm of hard EDM as best she could. It was a giant mob of people, all clumped up and hopping around in excitement, and you didn't especially want to be out there.

As you watched, a guy came up behind Tara, tapping her on the shoulder and smiling down at her. You thought nothing of it, until you got a longer look at the guy's face. In the revolving, multicoloured lights that hung over the crowd, you recognised him in an instant, standing straight up and weaving your way through the party.

"You having fun, Carpenter?" He asked, with a douche-y smirk on his face as he said it. You rolled your eyes, coming up behind Tara and standing right behind her.

"I—" but you interrupted her.

"She is, Frankie," you shot, staring at him and crossing your arms. Tara whipped around to you with a glare.

"(Y/n), go away," she whispered loudly. But you stood your ground.

"Tara, literally anyone but him. I mean, anyone—"

"That's not your decision."

"Sam tased him in the balls last time. I mean, come on, you have to know he's a douche."

Frankie scoffed. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"(Y/n) is just a—"

"—We're dating," you interrupted again. "So fuck off."

"No, we aren't," Tara shook her head. "Not really."

"Yes, we are," you nodded at Frankie. "Please leave. She's not sleeping with you tonight." He frowned, but started to walk off.

"That's not your decision, asshole!" Tara scowled and she reached out an arm to stop him. "Frankie, stay. You know what, I wasn't going to, but I will now."

"Frankie, leave. I mean it, you creep." You turned to her and glared. "Tara, listen to me, you—"

"No! Frankie, stay. Maybe I need the company," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. Frankie looked between you both, as did a few other people in the room who were starting to notice.

"They literally call him Date-Rape-Frankie, Tara. There's no way in hell you're sleeping with Date-Rape-Frankie. Frankie, leave."

"Frankie, no, stay. Well, what if I want to?"

"Then you're being stupid."

"Bold choice of words coming from you! You're not my mother."

"I'm not trying to be your mom, Tara. I'm using basic common sense. That guy is a creep and a perv," you pointed to him.

"Hey!" Frankie interjected, raising a hand to your shoulder.

"Fuck off!" you and Tara said in unison, dismissing him to glare right at each other.

"Well maybe I deserve the freedom to sleep with weirdos and whoever I want! I mean, who are you, the fucking sex-Nazi?"

"I don't have a problem with literally anyone else, Tara, but he's a weirdo!"

"Well then let me make that call! I'm not five. You don't need to baby me, I know he's a weirdo!" People were definitely staring now. You were both shouting, but a lot of it was drowned out by the EDM. It didn't stop others watching you point in each others faces and scowl.

"It's not babying you, Tara! It's basic caring! You have no clue about this shit, this is like your fourth party ever!"

"I've managed this far, haven't I?!"

"What, you want a cookie?!"

"Yeah, maybe I fucking do! I'm an adult, asshole! Let me do adult shit!"

"Wow, it's so adult and mature of you, to sleep with creeps and get hungover every Friday. How adult."

"Well, maybe it's not, but who gives a shit! I'm having fun for once! I'm being free without a fucking serial killer on my ass! I know you can't relate, but Christ, take the stick out from your ass!"

"Real nice," you shook your head. "This is what I get for helping you. Of fucking course." Before she could reply, you turned around and headed out the sliding glass door, into the fenced-in backyard. There was a pool back there, and you collapsed into a wrought iron pool chair, right near the edge.

People watched you warily, as you sat out there, but within minutes, the party was resumed. Even from outside, you could hear the thumping bass shake the windows gently as the glass moved in the panes.

There was a faint scent of petrichor from the small patch of grass out there, and the sky rumbled in the distance. It was peaceful out there, with small hanging fairy lights and the pool in front of you. You propped your legs up on the glass table and tried not to scream.

This was exactly what you should've expected, from Tara. Of course she would be selfish. Of course she would be brash. A part of you wasn't surprised. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. You just sat there and tried to cool your breathing, watching the city lights in front of you.

You must've sat like that for an hour or two, just watching the city. It didn't feel like long enough. You might've even felt at peace, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Um...excuse me?" You craned your neck around, looking up in your chair to see a concerned guy looking down at you.

"Are you (Y/n)?" He asked, awkwardly scratching his neck. You nodded, confused.

"Uh, yeah? Do we know each other?"

"No! No, I was asked by Tara, I think was her name? She wanted me to get you. She's your girlfriend, right?"

The worry came back, and you stood up. "Why, what happened? Where is she?" Sam was really going to kill you.

"She's in the guest bathroom, I think she's sick."

===+++===

"Tara?"

"(Y/n)?" you heard a very uneasy voice on the other end.

"Can I come in?" you asked, and when there was no response, you let yourself inside. She was on the other end of the massive bathroom, leaned up against the bathtub with her head close to the toilet bowl.

Tara looked absolutely green, with her hair sweatily stuck to her forehead and eyes barely open. "Christ Tara, how much did you have to drink?" you asked in worry, coming to stand over her.

"Oh, just—" she gagged like she was about to puke and you bent down to grab her and tug her towards the toilet bowl. You spun back to the guy in the doorway, who stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Can you get me some crackers and Gatorade?" you asked him, sending a hopeful glance. He nodded and closed the door, and you turned back to Tara, who was bent over the toilet bowl.

You moved her gently and lifted the toilet seat up. "Are you okay?" you asked with a frown. You felt like an idiot the moment it left your mouth.

She raised her eyebrows. "Do I look okay?" Tara mumbled.

"Well, no."

"Thass' good," she slurred. "I had too many," she hiccupped. You nodded.

"I'd say so. How much did you have Tara?"

She giggled. "This many." She held up four fingers with a giant, toothy grin and slumped with her arms encircling the toilet bowl.

"Since when?" you blinked.

"Since you got allllllllll pissy!" You sighed, hands going to her hair and pulling it back. She wrinkled her nose at you. "Why are you touching my hairrrrr?!"

"So you don't vomit all on it, idiot," you replied, shaking your head. Tara huffed.

"I'mnuh gonnuh puke."

And then Tara puked. Everywhere.

===+++===

You both sat there, that way, for about ten minutes. Tara vomited three times, during that span, and when she was done, you handed her the crackers and Gatorade and told her to do her worst.

She downed them in another fifteen minutes, sitting in the bathtub and eating while you sat leaned up against the bathroom wall, across from her, just in silence. The sounds of the party seemed to have died a little bit as the night droned on, and by now people would be wandering home or to someone else’s place.

While you waited, you shot Sam a text, letting her know you’d bring Tara home and that she was okay. Sam didn’t reply but she saw the message, and you figured that was good enough. When you checked the weather app, Tara finally spoke, coming to her senses a bit with more food in her system.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, staring down at the package for the crackers in her hand. “Thanks.”

You shrugged, staring at the toilet in front of you. It probably reeked in there, but at this point you were nose blind. “For what?” You meant for that to be it, just a small little acknowledgment, but Tara shook her head.

“Thank you for that. For being here.”

She stared right at you when she said it, and you knew she meant it with conviction. You nodded. “I know we don’t always get along, but I had your back, back there.”

“You have my back?” she asked, smiling a little and grabbing her Gatorade from the edge of the tub.

“I agreed to help you, didn’t I?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “You did, yeah.” Tara looked over at you, then tilted her head to the side. “I still don’t get why, though.”

“You were honest, for once.” It came from a surprising place, and you said it before you entirely knew you were speaking. You didn’t completely know what it meant either, until after you said it, but the words passed between you almost like a new understanding.

A few moments of silence came and went, before she spoke again. “I walk silently places at night in case I hear I’m being followed. By Ghostface. Same thing as when I’m home alone. I don’t do it as much anymore, but I still do it sometimes. Don’t tell Sam, please please please. She’ll make me go to therapy.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding gently. You leaned your head back up against the wall, craning it up to look at the ceiling.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked. You laughed, tracing the popcorn pattern of the roof with your eyes.

“I’m not the devil, Tara.”

“…Neither am I.”

“I know,” you said, and you reached your arm out for a cracker. She gave you one and you crunched down on it, while an especially large bass hit came from the speakers outside. “God, this music fucking sucks,” you groaned.

Tara nodded. “It’s really hard to dance to.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “it didn’t seem like you were struggling earlier.”

Tara frowned, then tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s your favourite song?”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said.

“Okay… you’re going to laugh, though.”

“Am I?” she grinned. You nodded.

“Do you know that one song, The Promise, by When In Rome? It’s from the 80s, it’s super cheesy?”

She stared off for a moment, in thought, then shook her head. “Don’t think so, how’s it go?”

You rolled your eyes, but began to quietly sing it in a tone that wavered in between spoken word and humming. It was terrible and you were tone deaf, but it was the song. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a straaanger. You know in the end,” your voice broke a little at the low note, and Tara giggled but you continued, “I’ll always be thereee.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. And then it skips a little bit and the chorus goes, ‘I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say, I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to beee.’”

She cut you off with her hand, laughing hysterically. You felt your cheeks flushed, and in any other time you would’ve been annoyed with her laughing at you. But this didn’t feel mean. You just smiled right back.

“That was good, actually,” she managed, between small laughs. “Why is it your favourite?”

“Um,” you shrugged, “my brother used to sing it to me, years ago when I was scared.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Tara said, leaning her head on the tile wall of the tub.

“I have six.”

She blinked, then sat up straight. “Since when?!”

“Always, Carpenter,” you shrugged. “Everyone knows.”

“Everyone who?”

“Chad, Mindy, Anika. Even Quinn.”

“I didn't know. How come you never talk about them?”

”I just don’t,” you frowned. Tonight was definitely not the night to get into that. Instead, you pivoted topics. “Why, what’s your favourite song? I showed you mine, now you’ve got to show me yours.”

“I’m ninety nine percent sure that’s not how that saying is used,” she laughed, “but fine. When I was crying as a baby, my mom sung me this song, called Baby, I Love You by The Ronettes.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

Tara shook her head. “Probably not, but they’re the same group that does that one song Be My Baby?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Apparently my mom had Baby, I Love You playing in the hospital, when I was born and everything. It’s kind of comforting. When I miss her, I play it.”

“How often is that?”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think, considering she’s a giant asshole.”

"That's always how it is."

"Mhm... and just so you know, I know Frankie was a creep. I wasn't actually going to do anything with him. Just flirt. Have fun."

"I know. I wasn't trying to babysit you, I just wanted to warn you. That creep has so many stories."

"I know. I just don't like being told what to do, sometimes. It's a whole thing. I'm working on it, seriously."

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything at all. You both sat in what you assumed was a prolonged silence, until you looked down finally to see Tara’s eyelids falling heavy.

You stood up with a sigh. “You should go home.” There was no reply, and you checked out the small window in the bathroom to still see it was pitch black out. It was definitely too late to send her home this sleepy, and after the incident a few weeks ago, there was no way Sam would let her stay at yours. “Tara,” you nudged her.

She groaned, rolling over in the tub and snuggling up. You rolled your eyes, then looked out the window one more time with an annoyed grumble.

===+++===

The longer you had to walk with her on your back, the more you regretted this. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, face pressed onto the back of your shoulder and knees held up by your hands. You couldn’t see her, but you knew her eyes were shut and she was super close to being actually asleep.

"We make a good team, you know," she mumbled into your shoulder. You knew she was being funny, but you were too tired to laugh as you trudged up the hill. Carrying a drunk girl home was not at all what you had anticipated of the night, and though it had been shitty at the beginning and shitty until almost the very end, you could definitely say it wasn't shitty right then.

When you arrived at her apartment complex, Tara was soundly asleep and Sam came out to meet you both, taking her sister from you and stumbling with her towards the door. In the distance, right over another hill, the sky was already beginning to lighten up a bit.

Right as both Carpenters reached the door, Tara stopped for a moment to turn back to you with a smile. "Thanks, babe," she said with a cheeky grin that was only half awake. You smiled back.

"You too, babe."

Sam rolled her eyes, pulling Tara through the door. It was a pleasant night, still with the same faint scent of rain oncoming. In your weird, newfound peace as you walked home yourself, you didn't see that Quinn was watching you from the upstairs window.

===+++===

so that was fun lmao. anyways there will be a part 3 but you and tara are kind of maybe friends now? now it's time for feelings 😈

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter

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destinedfordiapers · 4 days ago

Text

No One Mourns The Wicked

This story is set in the Your Change of Plans universe. So read that first. Or don’t. Either way.

I’ll be honest. When Claire’s parents first told me they were sending her to the Little’s Program™️, I tried my best to stop them.

In my defense, Claire was beautiful and who wants to date a girl in diapers?

I mean, sure, she was stuck-up, shallow, and superficial. And yeah, she thought she was the Queen Bee wearing designer clothes and ruthlessly controlling our friend group.

She was a mean girl. Think Regina George. That kind of girl.

But now that I see her, stripped from her fancy, expensive clothes and attitude wearing that adorable diaper—I can’t help but agree it’s for the best.

“Awww, Clairebear! Don’t be shy!!! It’s just me!”

As you can see, Claire hid her face in her stuffies, too embarrassed to respond.

“Claire, honey,” her mom says, “Ryan came all this way to see you. We don’t ignore our guests, do we?”

A few weeks ago, Claire would’ve bit her mom’s head off for talking to her like that.

But now look at her.

Her mom turns to me, smiling. “She might need a few minutes to warm up to you. She’s still adjusting to her new life.”

Claire digs her face further into her stuffies, whimpering.

“It’s okay, I’m sure it’s a big transition for her. I mean, she did go from Prada to Pampers! Gucci to Gerber! Cartier to cribs! But she’s just so cute in that diaper!”

“Well she does have the best diapers on the market! Only the best for Claire,” her mom says, “Plus she’s been much better behaved since she got back. Sure, she still throws tantrums—all Littles do!—but now they’re about not wanting her poopy diaper changed instead of throwing a fit because we got her the wrong Hermes bag!”

“Now that is something I gotta see! Clairebear throwing a tantrum in a poopy diaper?! How cute is that?”

More whimpers from Claire.

“Well, you’re in luck! She’s past due for her afternoon boom boom. She usually goes during her nap but not today. Should be any minute!”

She pats Claire’s diaper playfully.

“It’s just so crazy,” I say astonished, “Claire poops her diapers now.”

“Yep, the Littles Center recommended the full package to fix her attitude after meeting Claire. Complete unpotty-training, inability to orgasm, and strict reliance on the Littles Center’s special baby formula. She can’t eat any adult food without getting an icky tummy!”

“Well, judging by the fact I haven’t heard Claire talk back at all, I’d say it’s working!”

“Like a charm! She did have a meltdown after we gave her fancy clothes to her cousins, but Littles don’t need fancy clothes, do they Claire?”

“M-maawmmmyyyyy,” Claire lisp’s adorably.

“Sorry, honey, but you need onesies and diapers! And I almost forgot, Claire also got the Babble Package™️, so she sounds just like a toddler! How cute is that?”

“I na a tawdwa!!” Claire shrieks.

It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Of course you’re not,” I coo, “You’re our Clairebear!”

Claire’s mom smiles, “Well, why don’t I leave you two alone so you can catch up. Let me know if she makes a poopy!”

Claire moans again.

For the first time since her regression, I’m alone with Claire.

It’s strange, seeing her there in her diaper, completely docile. Nothing like the bossy, sexy woman she used to be.

I sit on the bed next to her, rubbing her shoulder. “Hey, Clairebear.”

She lifts her head from her stuffies. “H-hi Wyan.” Hearing herself she hides her head again.

Doing my best not to laugh, I push forward. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. Not with me. You know I love you. Even if things are different.”

Hearing the “I love you,” Claire immediately turns around. “P-pwomith?”

“Yes, Claire, I promise.”

For the first time since I got there, Claire smiled and sat up against her pillows.

“Is this your stuffy?”

“Mhm! It’s Wy-Wy Dog!” she says excitedly, showing me her stuffed dog.

“Awww, did you name him after me?”

“Yeah!” she says, blushing a bit.

“Well I think he’s the cutest little stuffy in the whole world!”

Her smile fades slightly. “Don wan stuffies, wan you!”

I sigh. I knew it would come to this eventually. I wasn’t lying, I did love her. But I can’t date a Little. I need a woman, not a pamper packer.

“Clairebear, I love you, I really do. But you’re…you’re a Little now. It’s not appropriate for you to be in an adult relationship anymore.”

“Buh, buh!” she starts, stomping her hands and feet, “Na fawr!!! I you guwlfwien!!!”

As I look into her eyes, I no longer see the sophisticated, sexy woman she used to be. Whatever she used to be, whatever fun we used to have, a distant memory.

“Sorry, little one. I need a woman—an adult—and you’re not that anymore. You’re not even potty trained, it’s just not meant to be. Maybe you’ll find a nice guy at daycare!”

I knew I went too far right away. The tantrum started right away.

“NOOOOO!” she shouted, kicking her feet more than ever! Na a baby! Na na na!”

The kicking of her feet caused an immediate reaction. Her screaming suddenly stopped as her eyes grew wide.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I ask before a grunt answers my question.

A loud, bubbly toot trumpets out of her diaper, leaving no ambiguity of what’s happening. Her eyes furrow in concentration at the task at hand.

Her diaper expands rapidly as she grunts. Her eyes still unfocused as she works to fill her diaper.

All I can do is watch as the woman I once revered poops her diaper in front of me, no different from an actual toddler.

Well, I guess she basically is a toddler now.

After a few bubbly toots, her grunting stops. Though the smell immediately attacks my nose, barely mitigated by the baby powder in her diaper.

“Did someone just make a poopoo?” I ask in a babyish voice. I couldn’t help myself. It was instinctual.

It’s just how you talk to pamper packers.

“No poopies!” she shrieks, legs kicking again. Her diaper swaying dangerously.

“Are you sure about that, little one?”

“I didn’! You did!” she squeals, trying to kick me.

“Excuse me, Claire? This is not how a Little should behave! You do not fib about your diaper and you definitely do not try to kick adults!”

“Don care! Na baby!!”

“If you keep acting like this you’re gonna learn what happens to misbehaving Littles. I’ll give you one more chance before you end up on my lap.”

I almost felt bad. The last thing I did was want to cause Claire to throw a tantrum. But here we are.

“You na my mawmy! You dum baby too!” she retorted, still trying to kick me.

“No, but I am,” her mom says walking in, “I could hear your tantrum all the way down the hall! Were you trying to kick Ryan?”

Claire’s eyes grew wide. “I-I-I b-but!!”

“We do not kick our babysitters, do you understand me?” her mom said in that deeply maternal voice you hear when you’re in trouble.

In a flash, Claire’s mom is sitting on the bed, pulling her kicking and screaming Little on her lap.

Claire’s diaper is already browning, bulging under the weight of its contents.

She turns to me and says over Claire’s whining, “I’m sorry, Ryan. I did warn you about her poopy diaper tantrums! I’ll take care of this one, are you still on to babysit her Friday night?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Great, you go on, I’ll see you then. I have to teach this little one some manners.”

As I walk out, I hear SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I may have lost my girlfriend, but I can’t argue this isn’t for the best.

#diaper captions #diaper humiliation

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watkinsglen · 3 months ago

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Review: “My Investing Journey and Learning” by Carmen Mundt

Qualifications: I’m a journalist reporting on business, economics, and defense who’s been in the industry for 7 years — the last 3 have been at, debatably, the #1 business publication in the world.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Thoughts: I cannot believe I spent 39 euros on this.

This 39 page ebook provides incredibly basic information that can all be found in this article.

First: while the ebook is about 40 pages, it probably has about 10 pages of actual information in it, interspersed with inspirational quotes from Sheryl Sandberg and Warren Buffet, with some pictures of Carmen in Monaco.

There’s about 1 page of “introduction” from Carmen that talks about her upbringing and journey to university in London. I won’t comment too much on her personal story, but an important thing to note is that she says she came from a “traditional Spanish household” where her father was the breadwinner and her mother had no access to family finances. After the 2008 crash, her family couldn’t afford to send her to college. She moved to London, applied for a student loan, and began studying finance at a university while working part time.

Carmen very, very briefly mentioned her regrets as to her mother’s inability to access higher education, work, and family financial planning; she says she’d never want to be in that position. While literally only one sentence, I think it makes it clear who the audience for this ebook is: someone who has absolutely, positively, no idea about money.

(She also very, very briefly mentions “big changes in her personal life” that made a full-time job in finance “not sustainable,” leading to her move to Monaco. This is her only reference to George.)

The rest of the book very simply explains how to make a budget, set financial goals, invest in the stock market, and mitigate risk. The information was kinda factually correct, and was written in a coherent manner. I think that’s the highest praise I can give it.

Here’s the thing: like other reviewers have called out, I am pretty certain that Carmen didn’t write anything besides the introduction. Whole sections (and indeed the entire format of the ebook) were clearly ripped from the Female Invest introductory courses. (I spent 3 hours clicking through each course so I could find direct wording comparisons to make this claim. I really wouldn’t recommend it.) I do think she edited these sections, and she interjected a few personal sentences; but I believe that’s where her involvement ended.

From an expert perspective, a lot of the information is so simplistic as to be almost incorrect. This isn’t a “first day of Econ 101” ebook — this is a “freshman year of high school home ec class” ebook. (Did anyone else’s home ec classes teach budgeting, or just me?)

Here’s an example. In a section on stocks, Carmen/Female Invest writes: “Investing in stocks allows you to support companies and causes you care about while still making a profit.”

On a basic level, this is correct. Purchasing a stock technically means you’re buying a little bit of a company, and I guess therefore supporting it. But unless a company is IPOing, you’re buying those stocks from another investor — which means your purchase has no effect on the company. So it’s a little disingenuous to claim you’re somehow helping the company. The ebook is rife with this kind of thing.

Carmen pushed in her advertising posts that the Female Invest courses were a key supplement to her book. So obviously, I had to do those too. And holy shit, they were so much worse than the ebook. Some parts were blatantly incorrect on basic information (they claim markets are open 24/7, when most are only open 9am-4:30pm on weekdays) and have some of the most patronizing metaphors I have ever read. (One of the most egregious was comparing your investment portfolio to a pizza because “stocks, bonds, and ETFs” make up different “sizes of slices to make a whole pie”. This isn’t even an accurate equivalent — maybe a calzone, pasta, and pizza make up a whole meal? I don’t even know.)

I would not recommend buying this ebook unless you, too, were barred from even thinking about a stock by your traditional father. Even then, consider free sources.

A Disclaimer on disclosures: So, after @ohblimeygeorge sent me a reddit post also reviewing Carmen’s book that mentioned ad disclosures, I decided to dive into the regulations. In the U.S., influential advertising is regulated by the FTC — in the EU, it’s regulated by the EU Commission, which I believe Carmen would qualify under since she is a Spanish citizen who lives in Monaco. First, I looked at this legal brief on content monetization business models, and concluded that that the ebook likely falls under “affiliate marketing” as Carmen likely receives a percentage of each ebook sold through her link.

(An additional disclaimer: obviously, I don’t know the details of the deal Carmen has with Female Invest, but I’d think it unlikely that she isn’t getting paid for their collaboration. She mentioned in an Instagram story under her Female Invest highlight that she “tried purchasing equity but they were already too big for what I could afford” but “did buy a bit of their crowdfunding.” Since she doesn’t have equity, i.e. doesn’t own a piece of the company, it’d be weird if she was doing this for free.)

Back on topic. I next looked at this legal brief on advertising disclosures. It states that affiliate marketing must be disclosed: “you need to make sure your audiences understand that it’s advertising.” Disclosures can include hashtags and “mentioning” advertising in the caption. Carmen has not disclosed advertising in any of her Female Invest posts, and appears to be violating this regulation. (Interestingly, her only posts that follow disclosure requirements are her Tommy posts.)

It’s apparently not uncommon. An EU Commission study showed 80% of influencers in the EU do not properly disclose ads.

So, there’s that too.

#I spent waaaaaay too long doing female invest courses for this #I was just horrified and couldn’t stop!!#my verdict #unfortunately #is that this IS the equivalent of a weight loss ebook peddled by an ig baddie #disappointing but I suppose unsurprising #happy to answer more questions if u message me!#george russell #carmen montero mundt #carmen mundt

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lloydskywalkers · 6 months ago

Text

moats and boats and waterfalls

Read on AO3

Post-Crystalized — after surviving apocalypse no. 2 (possibly 3, currently under debate) the ninja now face the unspeakable horrors of budgeting.

(Years late to the Crystalized party but here's part one of my seven billion fanfics about this season because there are Thoughts to be had about this one)

As it turns out, rebuilding a monastery is a whole lot more trouble than rebuilding the Bounty for the eightieth time.

And by trouble, Cole means incredibly expensive.

“Re-installing central heating costs what?!”

Kai’s horrified cry reverberates throughout the half-constructed monastery, the echo from the noticeably empty rooms only adding to insult.

Oh, what Cole would give to have his bed back.

“I guess we’ll have to use you during the winter,” Nya sighs, patting Kai on the back. “Lloyd, get ready to supercharge him.”

“Forget heating, do you know how much Wi-Fi costs?” Lloyd stares at the estimated summary like it’s personally kicked his pet. “Who even has that much money? God?”

“If god had money, he could’ve given Sensei Wu his inheritance and we’d all be loaded,” Jay mutters. “But noooo, ‘material possessions are the death of the soul’, blah blah blah, we’ll see whose soul is dead when the gas cuts out and he can’t make midnight tea anymore.”

“It does seem a bit extreme, looking at it all like this,” Zane remarks. Somewhat ironically, as he’s taken one look at the bill then wisely retreated across the room.

“Well, blowing up the entire monastery with us in it was extreme, so it figures repairs are just as bad,” Nya grumbles.

They all shift, the mood dampening at the reminder.

Lloyd opens his mouth. “I’m sor—”

“Do not,” Kai stabs a finger at him. “Even try.”

Lloyd slumps. “If I hadn’t gotten caught—”

“We all agreed to the plan, okay?” Cole says. “Also, no one knew we’d be sending you to Harumi, so the whole thing was doomed from the start.”

While he looks a bit miffed, Lloyd gives it up. Though perhaps that’s mostly in part because he desperately wants to avoid any more conversation about—

“So speaking of Harumi,” Jay starts.

Lloyd springs for the window.

Unfortunately for Lloyd, said window is currently boarded up by heavy-duty plywood, since quality window glass fell low on the list of priorities, which gives Kai plenty of time to tackle him before he can even raise his leg to kick it in.

“No!” Zane cries. “We can’t afford anymore plywood!”

“Or like, Band-Aids at bare minimum, so don’t you dare!” Nya adds.

“—overdramatic phase has gotta go, what are you, five — hey, no biting!”

Lloyd makes a muffled sound as he wrestles on the floor with Kai. Cole turns, very slowly, to glare at Jay.

“Oh come on, we were all thinking it,” Jay defends, reluctantly standing to help pry Lloyd from the floor. “Fine, hey, I promise we won’t talk about certain loser ex-princesses who are nice and cozy in their prison cells right now, okay? There, there, little gremlin, she can’t hurt you anymore—”

“I’ll bite you next,” Lloyd threatens, but he returns to his seat, wincing as Kai scuffs his hair.

“Turn Oni again, and that might be an actual threat.”

Lloyd startles terribly, staring at Kai with wide eyes. “That’s — not — I wouldn’t—”

“Kai,” Nya hisses.

“Woah, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Kai says quickly. “It’s supposed to be positive reinforcement! Easing it into a normal thing, y’know?”

Lloyd growls. “Nothing about this is a normal thing—”

“Except none of us are normal, so therefore it is,” Kai interrupts him smoothly. “Also we already loved you when you were a tiny demon, turning into a literal one is nothing. Give us some credit.”

Lloyd pulls his hood over his flaming face, thunking his head against the table. Kai pats him cheerfully on the shoulder.

“Additionally, unless we can swindle someone by selling Lloyd in his Oni form on the black market for cold cash before stealing him back, I don’t see how this helps matters.”

Zane finds himself on the receiving end of five blank stares. Lloyd, successfully having been pulled from his hood, whistles.

“I forget how evil you can be, sometimes.”

Kai gapes at him. “So that makes you feel better?”

“I mean, in terms of normalizing it—”

“Alright!” Cole slams his hands on the table, silencing them all. He glares them down. “Meeting room in five. We’re figuring out how to make this place livable if it kills us.”

There’s a brief silence, then Jay hesitantly raises his hand.

“Hey, so uh, we kinda don’t have a meeting room right now?”

Cole collapses on the table in despair.

---

Twenty minutes and one session of shoving chairs into what could have been the living room later — it’s hard to tell, with all the construction markings and plywood still up — they’ve kicked off the official first meeting of the Finish-Making-the-Monastery-Livable plan.

“Alright,” Lloyd announces, brushing his hands as he steps back from the chalkboard that may or may not have been stolen. “At the top of the list we have Wi-Fi, central air and heating, beds — huh, maybe those should go higher — running water, electricity — that one’s debatable, me and Jay can tag-team it if we get desperate — blankets-slash-pillows-slash-etcetera, stuff to cook with, actual food — y’know what, I’m putting that closer to the top—”

“So basically, we have nothing,” Cole says blankly.

Lloyd glances at the list, then to the sliver of chalk left in his hands. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Take the weaponry, sure, but all my albums?” Jay mourns. “I spent years collecting those.”

“I lost the blanket we stole from that super fancy apartment we lived in for like five minutes when Lloyd was a kid,” Kai sighs. “That thing literally made it through the apocalypse, just to bite it now.”

“Two apocalypses too many,” Nya says.

“Did the Preeminent count as an apocalypse? Like, a minor one?”

“Three apocalypses. It took three apocalypses to vaporize my closet,” Cole sinks lower in his seat. “Man, the hoodie you got me for my birthday was in there.”

“All of our photographs are lost, too.” Zane stares at his hands.

Lloyd murmurs something under his breath that sounds a lot like family pictures and figures.

The mood plummets a bit more, after that.

“Motherfu—”

“Alright, this isn’t helping,” Cole claps his hands. “We can all cry again later. Lloyd, overall mission status conclusion?”

“Well, like you said, we basically have nothing,” Lloyd sighs. “So unless Zane wants to stop chickening out and abandon his morals so we can just hack into everything and get it free, we need to find some way to pay for all this.”

“Again, I cannot hack in to rebuilding an entire cooling unit throughout the monastery, much less make the latest clothing line from Gucci materialize,” Zane says. Kai swears. “Also, that is called stealing.”

“You call it stealing, I call it a charitable donation,” Nya says. “I turned into the ocean for this city, the least they can do is cut me a check.”

“Besides, even if it is stealing, what are they gonna do, send us to jail again?” Jay scoffs.

Lloyd jabs the piece of chalk in his direction. “Don’t jinx us.”

“Too bad we wasted our chance at crime and didn’t even get rich,” Kai mutters. “All we got was Nya.”

He yelps as she punches him in the arm. “What, too soon?”

“You should be so lucky to have me,” she sniffs.

“Hey, but going on the donation thought train — do we know anyone who’s rich?” Jay asks. “Why don’t we have any rich friends?”

“Hey, you know what’s rich? That coming from the son of a billionaire.”

“Hey, you know what else got blown up? My inheritance!”

“Please, let it go,” Zane says. “We do have rich friends, I’ll remind you, we’re friends with actual monarchy. But we can’t exactly go and ask anyone else for money, since they all already helped out so much in getting the monastery rebuilt.”

There’s a moment of pensive silence. Lloyd draws a little sad face on the chalkboard next to ASK FOR DONATIONS.

“What if we just…sued Harumi,” Cole says. “Like, there’s gotta be some law that could work in our favor here.”

“I don’t think the court would go for that,” Lloyd mutters. “Since they’re all morally corrupt frauds who hate us.”

“Yeah! Down with the system!” Kai punches his fist in the air.

“Also, Harumi likely has very little in the way of money, either,” Zane says. “Considering she blew up any and all assets she might have had claim to.”

“Haha, what a loser,” Nya crows.

“What if we sued Garmadon?” Cole tries. “The courts have to hate him more than they hate us.”

Lloyd scowls, scrawling a large NO on the chalkboard. “Not worth the effort. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s still couch-surfing at Vinny’s, which means also penniless.”

“We could sue Kalmaar,” Nya cracks her knuckles.

“Isn’t he dead?”

“Oh, yeah.” Nya looks disappointed.

“Did anyone survive that we can sue successfully?” Jay muses. “And actually get money out of?”

“Vangelis,” Cole snaps his fingers. “Wait. No, we ousted him from the throne, so he’s probably broke too.”

“Vangelis survived?”

As they dissolve into bickering over the status of enemies potentially living-or-dead, Kai squints at the chalkboard, where Lloyd is still scratching out letters despite having completely lost the room.

“We…are…fu—Lloyd!”

“Well it’s true,” Lloyd huffs, finishing off his message with a flourish. “Tada. There’s my grand plan.”

“That’s not a plan, it’s a pessimistic estimation at how things are gonna go.”

“It’s extremely rude language, is what it is! I thought we taught you better.”

Lloyd simply looks pleased with himself at having recaptured the room’s attention. It is, of course, then that Sensei Wu walks into that room. He stops, looking from where they’re all frozen in place, then to the chalkboard.

Lloyd pales.

Sensei Wu pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closes his eyes.

“My dearest nephew, you have three seconds to make that disappear, or I’ll be forced to—”

Lloyd springs for the chalkboard in record time, wiping frantically at his writing with the sleeve of his gi.

“People would kill for that thing, and here he’s using it as a chalkboard eraser,” Jay mutters.

It isn’t until later, when they’ve all retreated to the collective mass of blow-up mattress and borrowed blankets they’re calling a bedroom, that anyone breaches the topic again.

There’s a loud rustling as Cole turns over where he’s precariously shoved between Kai and Zane.

“…can we sue the mayor?”

There’s a noted pause of silence, only broken by the whirring of the cheap oscillating fan.

“You know,” Zane says slowly. “In terms of slander and defamation…”

An evil, sharp-toothed smile spreads across Lloyd’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

“Hey, let’s sue the new ninja, too,” Jay grins. “Can Pixal retroactively trademark our vibe?”

“You cannot sue them based on vibe appropriation.”

“Yeah, but I can sue them for impersonation.”

---

They cannot, as it turns out, sue the mayor, because legal work like that costs even more money.

They can, however, ruin his year by filing (and forging) every possible insurance claim under the sun, so they all walk out of the office a little more satisfied than before.

“I hope all your socks go missing in the laundry!” Nya yells toward the building as they hit the streets. “I hope you have a rock stuck in your shoe for the rest of your life! I hope you’re plagued with a mildly inconvenient headache every waking moment and never fully enjoy anything ever again!”

“Alright, alright, we’re getting looks,” Cole grabs her arm. “Let it go.”

“As much as I appreciate it, I am not going back to jail,” Jay shudders. “Twice was enough.”

Kai frowns. “Twice? When else did you get arrested?”

“We all did, re—” Jay cuts off, suddenly aware of the absolute daggers Nya is staring at him. “Uhhh…aw, snap, another mental breakdown, haha!”

“Is this the whole ‘we all have missing memories you guys are definitely hiding from us’ thing again? ‘Cause I swear—”

“I said I’m getting to it, it’s a really boring story anyways—”

“Didn’t you say you lost an eye—”

“Oh look, a window!”

This time, Jay is thwarted by Lloyd, who’s simply jumped out enough windows to recognize when someone’s about to try it themselves. Except Jay is aiming to jump inside a window this time, so they both go crashing into Pixal just as she joins them.

To her credit, she barely flinches. “I thought I heard clown noises nearby.”

Lloyd stares at her in such utter betrayal, the mental breakdown thing might become valid.

“Pixal,” Jay simply begs. “Please. Help your clowns scavenge our clown dinners.”

Pixel surveys them all, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “There is a nice pizza place down the block.”

The cheers she’s met with nearly succeeded at knocking her over where Jay failed.

Dinner that night comprises of actual, warm, take-out pizza, which nearly moves Cole to tears.

“Definitely changing the priorities order,” Lloyd says blissfully through a mouthful of cheese. “Food goes at the top, no questions.”

“Seconded,” Kai mumbles.

“Thirded.”

“Fourthed.”

“I cannot believe, that after everything we’ve been through, we did not qualify for the post-apocalypse discount,” Zane bites out.

“Well,” Jay says brightly. “Pixal hacked the card reader, so technically we got a hundred percent discount.”

Zane stares at her, in equally utter betrayal. “Pixal?”

She shrugs. “They can try to send me to prison. They will fail.”

---

Two days later, Skylor cements herself as everybody’s most favorite person in the entire world by not only saving them from starvation by demanding they sit their butts down in the restaurant and eat for free, but also donating six pillows and a year’s worth of shampoo.

“I know it’s not a lot, but I’m on the lookout for more,” she tells them. “I’ve asked other people to help chip in, too, so hopefully that’ll make things a little easier.”

“Skylor,” Cole nearly sobs into his new, beautiful pillow. “If Kai doesn’t marry you, I will.”

“H-hey!”

“No marriage necessary,” she snorts. “Consider keeping you all fed my way of saying thanks.”

“But you already helped out with the monastery,” Nya says, around the same time the rest of them assure her there’s no need for thanks, despite the fact that no one has the slightest desire to relinquish their food.

“Fine, then,” Skyler huffs, her cheeks turning pink. “Make me say it out loud, will you — consider it my way of showing that I care about you all. Very much.”

“Aww,” Lloyd says.

Kai makes a face somewhere between melting and heart eyes.

“I hate all of you,” she mutters.

“We love you too, Skylor,” Cole grins.

“Hate you!”

Despite her words, they all leave with six boxes of leftovers and free dessert.

This, of course, brings another slightly-pressing issue to mind.

---

They end up getting a refrigerator for a steal of a bargain, which is probably again influenced by Pixal’s criminal extremely generous activity.

Given how enthusiastic they all are about getting it installed, Kai is half-expecting there to be no work left for him at all by the time he returns from the food run.

He’s…not entirely disappointed when he walks into the kitchen, though he is rather baffled.

The room freezes as if on record-scratch. Jay is perched on top of the counters, Lloyd has a sledgehammer raised halfway in the air, and Cole is on the ground beside the refrigerator crying.

“What?” Kai asks, blankly.

“The fridge…doesn’t fit…” Cole moans into the floor.

“We didn’t leave enough space between the cabinets,” Jay informs him through a mouthful of gummy worms. “So the door can’t open.”

Kai looks at Lloyd. “So the sledgehammer is for…?”

“DIY home improvement,” he shrugs.

“Huh.” Kai glances at the cabinets. “Put some safety goggles on first, okay?”

Lloyd only gets about two swings in before Zane descends with the all wrath of the Ice Emperor and adds to the tally of times-the- Green-Ninja-almost-met-his-doom, but it’s fun while it lasts.

They were ugly cabinets, anyways.

---

While his love for his family could potentially fuel a nuclear power plant, Kai does grow tired of being the living team space heater rather quickly.

The effort of keeping his power going all night just gets annoying (and exhausting) — so by the time he’s tagged in Lloyd to use his power to keep him going, they’re up to two moody ninja short on sleep, and no one wants to deal with that.

While they’ve scrounged up a few dollar-store quality blankets, Jay takes the opportunity to highlight his accomplishments in arts-and-crafts.

“You mean your mom’s accomplishments.”

“Hey, we made it together! It counts.”

The it in question quickly gains the name “god-awful-t-shirt-blanket” simply because the blinding combination of all their cast-off shirts sewn together is impressively terrible.

“I still think this is a waste of good clothes,” Kai grumbles. “It’s not like we have outfits to spare these days, you know.”

“Do you wanna keep heating the room at night or no?” Nya threatens.

Kai quickly shuts his mouth and returns to sewing Cole’s old plaid shirt to one of Jay’s neon blue shirts that features a dolphin printed in enough colors to kill a man.

“So, what do we think?” Lloyd steps back, wiping at his forehead with his arm as he surveys their masterpiece.

Staring at the multi-colored mess they’ve patched together into a quilt, Nya announces, “It’s the ugliest blanket I’ve ever seen.”

“Harsh.”

“Hey, we did our best!”

“See if I ever sew for you again,” Lloyd huffs.

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing,” Nya quickly interjects. “It looks a little like us!”

“Are you saying we’re ugly?!”

“Nya, no, our family genes are enough to carry us through this, I promise—”

---

They’re in the middle of figuring out how to steal Wi-Fi from the government when Tox drops by, Karloff in tow.

“You really…need…to get an elevator…or something,” she pants, red-faced and sweaty as she hauls several large bags behind her.

In contrast, Karloff looks unfazed, casually toting a hideously floral-patterned sofa over his shoulder.

“Skylor mentioned you need furniture, no?” he says. “It’s not much, but you need somewhere to sit.”

“Karloff,” Jay tells him, very seriously. “This is the most beautiful sofa I’ve ever seen.”

“Haha! Karloff is right once again,” he brags to Tox.

Tox stares at Jay in flabbergasted despair.

“You can’t put that in your home,” she mutters. “You can’t. It’s a crime against eyes everywhere.”

“Well, it’s better than no sofa, and we’re literally turning down nothing these days,” Nya says cheerfully. She leans over to peer at the bags Tox has managed to drag up. “Speaking of…?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tox heaves the bags in front of her. “Skylor said you guys needed help interior decorating? So I brought a couple rugs. She also mentioned something about the ugliest blanket she’s ever seen, so we called up some of the other Elemental Masters and got like, six or seven together. They’re not exactly works of art, but they’re okay?”

Kai tears open the first bag, his eyes lighting up. “They’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently. “Hey, guys, we got blankets! Dibs on the one with a wolf.”

“Oh, no, not that one, it’s from my awful middle school phase—”

“What do you mean, dibs, I want the wolf one!”

“Oh yeah? Down to fight for it?”

“You’re on. Training ground in five.”

“Absolutely not, we are not fighting over a blanket we’ve been so generously gifted,” Zane snaps, snagging Kai and Cole by their collars.

“Yeah, we also don’t really have a training ground anymore,” Lloyd says, half-buried in a blanket embroidered with countless bug-eyed fish. “It went ka-boom.”

Nya rubs her temples. “Zane?”

“Already factored into the expenses,” he sighs.

“Oh wow, you guys weren’t kidding,” Tox says. “Do you want, uh, like a keychain? I have some mints here too I can donate…man, Karloff, help me out!”

“Does the monastery need a metal helmet?”

“We’re really not that broke,” Nya says hastily, pushing away the offered mints. “But thanks.”

“Speak for yourself.” Lloyd snags the mints, clasping his hands together in prayer at Tox before slipping back into the emerging blanket battle.

Nya sighs. “Do you guys want tea? We’ve got three whole mugs, now.”

Tox glances from the other ninja, where Jay has been successfully rolled into a blanket burrito and is in potential danger of being rolled right down the mountain, to Karloff, who’s the reason said danger is potential.

“We can spare a minute, I guess.”

The t-shirt blanket is later relegated to the living room, where it lives as a throw blanket over Karloff’s floral sofa. They unanimously decide it’s the perfect home for it, and the only real critic is Skylor, who’s almost reduced to tears the next time she visits.

---

They celebrate their achievement of having a living room by all eating dinner on Karloff’s floral-patterned couch. This comes with a good deal of kicking and squirming and the tragic loss of Kai’s fortune cookie, but they make it work.

“This is kind of depressing, though. Sitting in the dark,” Nya remarks.

A muscle in Jay’s jaw twitches. “Well, maybe if someone hadn’t melted all our candles—”

“You were the one who had the brilliant idea of trying to barbecue with them, genius!” Kai snaps.

“It was a pretty spectacular fire,” Lloyd admits. Then, hastily, “In a really cool way!”

“Perhaps a lamp should go next on the list,” Zane says. “Rather than relying on Kai as our light.”

“Hey, I’m a great light,” Kai scowls. “I’m the light of your life. I could light this place up all day!”

“Yes, and I’m sure it would end similarly to the time you nearly burned down a building under the belief that you were achieving your true potential, but were, in fact, just dehydrated.”

Kai gapes at Zane in betrayal. “You said you’d take that to the grave!”

Zane carefully laces his fingers together. “Technically, I did.”

“No you didn’t!” Jay interjects. “We never buried you, so you never had a grave! Ha!”

Zane looks affronted. “I didn’t get a grave?”

“You got a statue!” Kai quickly consoles .

“Yeah, what’d you want us to do, pick your exploded pieces out of the street for half a year then toss ‘em in the ground?”

“Oh, as if that’s any worse than being left to pour your corpse out in cups of water.”

“It wasn’t my corpse, I was still alive!”

“You were the literal ocean. Fish swam in you.”

“Ew, does that mean—”

“Finish that sentence and I will drown you where you stand—”

“You’re all in desperate need of counseling,” Pixal mutters.

“Tell me about it,” Lloyd says, leaning back on the armrest of the sofa.

Cole shakes his head. “Lost causes, all of them.”

Pixal stares at them both, expression pinched, before deciding to respect the hopelessness of lost causes.

“Hold on, I think Kai’s crying,” Lloyd moves to sit up, only to wobble, slip sideways, and go crashing to the floor gracelessly.

“Just like when I fell to my doom off the Bounty,” Cole reminisces.

Pixal’s eyes glaze over.

---

Later that evening, Pixal adds “therapy” to the list of potential expenses on the fridge door. Regretfully, it loses miserably in the debate against hot shower expenses, so it too joins the pile of repressed memories that will undoubtedly haunt them in the future.

“But hey, a hot shower can cure depression on a good day,” Cole says, and that settles that.

---

Hot showers, as it turns out, are a hard-won priority.

It’s less so after Jay, Nya, and Pixal camp out overnight near the pipeline and perform their own less-than-legal maintenance, but one of Zane’s carefully filed insurance claims actually went through the other day, so they’re taking their luck as they can.

It’s not until they get working on the bathroom itself that the true difficulty makes itself clear.

“Hey, uh,” Kai stares down at the patch of rotted floor he’s ripped up, wiping at the fog that’s spread across his safety goggles. “Is the base layer supposed to look like that?”

“Look like what?” Cole abandons the tiling he’s been placing to glance over. His face drops. “Uh-oh.”

“Is that all black mold?” Nya gags, nearly dropping her bottle of cleaning bleach.

“FSM, no wonder we’re all crazy,” Cole mutters.

“Alright,” Kai strips off his rubber gloves. “Nothing for it. Back up, guys, I’m barbecuing this baby.”

“Wait wait wait don’t—”

Ten minutes and a good deal of hacking and wheezing through teary eyes later, Cole murders Kai while they all look on.

Well, he attempts to.

“You filled the monastery with chlorine gas, you absolute moron—!”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen, I’m not a chemist—”

Nya glares ahead darkly as Lloyd gingerly treats the reddened blisters on her hands.

“None of you,” Zane says, through gritted teeth. “Are touching cleaning chemicals for a year.”

---

“Not sure I wanna know how you pulled off poisoning yourselves, but I’m kinda impressed you did a better job of it than most criminals would,” Ronin tells them, once the monastery has been successfully de-chlorinated and the bathroom tiles firmly put in place, sans black mold.

“Maybe we can hire ourselves out to them when we’re strapped for cash,” Nya sighs.

“We’re literally always strapped for cash. We’re broke.”

Ronin laughs, clapping Jay on the back. “Welcome to adulthood, kid.”

“I don’t think normal adulthood gets their home blown up on a regular basis,” Lloyd hisses.

“Fair point,” Ronin nods.

“Well, thanks for saving us all from a slow and painful death,” Cole scrubs his hands over his face. “We can pay you back sometime in the next century. Maybe.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Ronin waves them off. “It’d be like kicking a dog when it’s down, askin’ you all to pay. Besides, I probably owe you one.”

“You sure do,” Jay glares.

“Hey, hey, I said I was sorry for the whole human sacrifice thing,” Ronin placates. “Want some good news, at least?”

“Is it actually good news?” Lloyd eyes him shrewdly.

“Lighten up, captain trust issues.” Kai barely snags Lloyd before he lands himself back in jail. “I looked into some more of those insurance claims you filed, and you actually got somethin’ out of it. I, uh, helped the bank along a bit, with the refund.”

“Bank?” Cole whispers.

“Refund?” Jay’s eyes shine.

“Yeah, got you all your checks right here,” Ronin says, tugging six neat envelopes from his jacket. “Just don’t blow ‘em all at once, okay? Haha.”

Zane looks as if he might propose to him on the spot.

“Hey, this isn’t too bad!” Kai exclaims. “We got money!”

“Guys,” Lloyd says, staring at his check. “You know we should probably pool all this together and spend it on necessities, right?”

“Yeah,” Cole sighs.

“It would be the smartest course of action,” Zane adds.

There’s a noted silence.

“Or,” Lloyd says.

---

In their defense, they spend exactly two-thirds of their checks on household items.

Whether or not these are needed household items remains a debate.

“If we’re all buying lamps for the living room, can we at least attempt to match?” Zane sighs.

“Booo, where’s your joy and whimsy?” Jay sticks out his tongue.

“That isn’t even a lamp, it’s a light-up axolotl.”

“The heck’s an axo-lot—”

“It lights up, doesn’t it? Ergo, it’s a lamp.”

“Ergo, what are you, Sensei Wu—”

“We’re never having guests over again,” Cole remarks, as Lloyd and Nya maneuver a five-foot-tall rendition of Godzilla into the shopping cart that may or may not light up.

“The monastery’s gonna look rad as heck, we’re forcing everyone to come over and look at it,” Kai corrects as he tosses a set of flame-patterned curtains into the mess.

“Absolutely not.”

“I actually might like them,” Zane muses. “They would capture the energy of our kitchen perfectly.”

Kai beams. “Flame curtains are a go!”

In the aftermath, they total around six individual blankets, five mismatching lamps and one light-up axolotl, a table that no one knows how to put together, one set of flame-patterned curtains, another hideous couch, and enough cutlery and kitchenware that no one has to eat out of Sensei Wu’s incense bowls anymore.

“Alright,” Lloyd says. “We’ve got three hours until the stores start closing. Everyone take the rest of your checks, don’t think about how much of a disaster the monastery still is, and start thinking about how valid retail therapy is.”

“Aye-aye,” Kai salutes, before immediately booking it for the clothing outlets.

---

Three hours later, Kai’s happily blown his entire check on a new wardrobe and exactly one pair of name-brand brand shoes. He’s unreasonably proud of himself for his restraint, until he catches Cole with three pairs of his own name-brand shoes, and immediately regrets being responsible.

He spots Jay going off in the N-Pop section of a music store, Nya investing in a sinfully-priced espresso machine, and Zane walking toward the clothing outlets himself with a high-quality pair of noise-cancelling headphones.

He doesn’t find Lloyd until well after he’s picked up his own clothes, already sporting an oversized hoodie he could’ve just stolen from Kai.

He’s more concerned when Lloyd proceeds to blow the last of his check at the sporting goods section of the local convenience store. Considering how long Lloyd spent looking wistfully at the candy aisle, Kai is baffled by the decision.

He’s even more baffled when Lloyd proceeds to box up his purchase for delivery instead of keeping it himself.

He’s utterly horrified when he sees who it’s addressed to.

“Are you serious?!” he asks shrilly, torn between ripping the box from Lloyd’s hands or immediately calling the mental health hotline. “You’re sending her gifts?”

“It’s not a gift, it’s — look, it’s a long story, you wouldn’t get it,” Lloyd grumbles, plastering another layer of duct tape over the box. “Just help me deliver it to Kryptarium and I’ll show you, okay?”

Kai very much does not help, because he’s not an enabler and he cares about his brother’s mental health, but he does follow Lloyd to Kryptarium Prison and lurk behind him as he eagerly watches the surveillance screens.

Harumi stares at the box before her, looking every bit as baffled as Kai is.

“Who would send me a volleyball—”

She freezes, her face going utterly blank. A muscle in her jaw twitches.

There’s a brief flash of what could be amusement, a brief expression as if she’s eaten something sour, then a fury like no other eclipses her face.

“LLOYD! I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU THINK YOU’RE HILARIOUS—”

Lloyd’s still laughing by the time they’re escorted from the premises, hard enough that Kai has to catch him when he trips at the top of the steps.

“What’d you even write on the note?” Kai finally asks, a bit in awe.

Lloyd grins. “I told her good luck getting together her villainous volleyball team in jail.”

Kai blinks. “Do I…want to know?”

“Nope!” Lloyd says airily. “But I’ve made my point.”

---

Regardless of some behaviors, the mental health hotline remains a constant idea. It simply happens to come up at inconvenient times, such as when Cole drops a dresser on his foot halfway across the courtyard.

He swears so loudly the whole monastery echoes with it.

“Oh geez, Cole, are you okay? Why’d you lift the whole thing on your own?”

“We could have helped,” Zane rushes over. “You don’t have to do it all yourself—”

“Yes I do!” Cole yells. “I’m stronger than that, I’m supposed to be stronger, I have to be stronger or you’re all going to die next time—”

He cuts off abruptly. Zane looks heartbroken. Jay—

Is suddenly busy smacking Cole upside the head.

“No, you don’t!” he snaps back, even louder. “You don’t have to do it by yourself! None of you do! Every time anyone tries to do something by themselves it all goes wrong and we lose someone, so we’re never — doing that — again!”

He seizes Cole around the arms, his wild eyes meeting Cole’s wide ones. “No one blames you for the stupid tunnel. I don’t care how strong you are. We’re all here and that’s what matters, so don’t you dare put that at risk.”

“But I—”

“No.”

“Jay, I—”

“No.”

“I—”

“No!” A manic expression overtakes Jay’s face. “No, no, no! No one’s taking the blame. No one’s isolating themselves. No. One. Is. Going. Off. Alone. You hear me?!”

The others are frozen, halfway outstretched hands caught as if suspended in ice. Kai’s expression is twisted painfully. Lloyd’s eyes are on the ground. Zane is as frozen as the metaphorical ice, and Nya looks devastated.

“No more being alone,” Jay says, the fire in his voice giving way to something wetter and considerably more sniffly. “No more. Don’t — you can’t—”

“Okay,” Cole whispers. He carefully takes Jay’s hands from his shoulders, grasping them in his own instead. “Okay. No more going at it alone. I promise.”

The monastery courtyard seems a little colder, in the silence.

“Anyone feel like circling back to the whole ‘suing Harumi’ idea?” Kai finally speaks up.

Jay gives a wet snort.

“Well, we’re probably gonna need to afford tissues,” Lloyd says. His own voice isn’t exactly dry, either.

---

The downside to sticking therapy smack at the bottom of their priorities is that they all really are, in fact, not okay.

Most of the time, they manage.

There’s a solace in being together, a comfort in having the people you trust and care for most in the world right next to you when the nightmares get bad. When Jay awakens screaming for Nya or clutching at his throat for air, Nya is already holding his hand and Cole’s holding the rest of him.

When Zane lapses into silence too long, emotions a roiling mess that leave him paralyzed, Kai is there with one-two-three’s for breathing and Lloyd is there to draw little cats with him until the world subsides again.

When Cole’s eyes shadow in training and his hits grow wild, Zane is there to pin him before he bloodies his hands and Jay is there to sing horrible off-key songs he loves until the panic ebbs.

When Nya stares at the water too-long, her eyes misty and her expression dreamy, Jay is there to hold her tight and Kai is there to talk until his voice goes hoarse and hers returns.

There are other times, though, when it’s harder.

It hits Kai this time about halfway through painting the walls of the kitchen a cheerful yellow, said paint splattered up to his elbows, courtesy of Lloyd. He glances down — to joke, to laugh, to not think—

And pauses. With the headband he’s stolen from Pixal in place, pushing back the mass of thick blond hair, Kai can just see the purple-red edges of the swollen, irritated wounds that scar Lloyd’s scalp. The twin marks are a better sight than when Kai first glimpsed them, bleeding circles that looked as if someone had drilled into Lloyd’s skull — but not by much.

“S’fine,” Lloyd mutters, catching Kai’s devastated expression. “I can’t even feel ‘em. Not really.”

“Liar,” Kai rasps. “They look awful.”

Lloyd makes a face. “Gee, thanks a lot.”

“I mean it. What if they get infected, or worse, or — have you had Sensei look at them?”

Lloyd wraps his arms around himself, avoiding Kai’s eyes. “No. I didn’t really…I did what he asked. What they both did. And then screwed the whole thing up, so it was all useless anyways, so I—”

He bites his lip, hard enough to crack the already dry skin.

“I don’t really wanna hear anyone telling me what else I’m doing wrong with myself, right now.”

Kai is angry enough to feel sick.

“That’s stupid. That’s so stupid, he should — it shouldn’t be like that, it’s — why didn’t anyone—” he shakes his head. “Why doesn’t anyone ever ask us if we wanna be — if we wanna—”

Lloyd’s hand closes around his wrist, gently tugging Kai’s own hand from where it’s clawed unconsciously at his arm, leaving ugly red stripes against his skin.

“You asked,” he says, quietly. “That meant a lot.”

Kai looks away. “Lot of good it did.”

Lloyd’s grip tightens. “It meant the world to me,” he repeats, stronger this time.

“But I couldn’t—!”

Lloyd abandons his hold on his wrist to wrap his arms around Kai entirely, holding tight. Bony and strong and familiar, Kai’s little brother to the core.

“Thank you,” he says, fervently enough that Kai can feel the ache in his voice. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

Kai’s voice is a miserable mess of fought-back tears. “I couldn’t even do anything.”

“You asked me what I wanted,” Lloyd says once again, and Kai can hear the edge of tears threatening his voice, now. “That was everything.”

Giving in, Kai drops his head into the mess of blond curls and hugs Lloyd back. Lloyd’s hair smells like blood and paint and steel and the strawberry shampoo Skylor gave them, and now it’s gonna smell like Kai’s stupid snot and tears.

“Hey, having another hug party without me is lame.”

Kai gives a wet, broken response as Nya throws her arms around them both.

“Idiots,” she murmurs, resting her head atop theirs. “I love you both, you know that?”

“Ew, gross,” Lloyd snorts wetly. “Hey Kai, Nya loves us.”

“Little jerk, who you callin’ gross? And here I thought you loved us too.”

“Well obviously I love you guys back, who’s the idiot now—”

Kai simply clutches them both and cries harder, as if holding onto them will stop himself from falling apart.

It works, in the ways that matter, though it’s always because they’re holding back even tighter.

Later that evening, Zane bathes Lloyd’s head in antiseptic and Jay forces them all to sit through the PowerPoint presentation he’s made with Nya titled “Every Super Cool Totally Good Character with Horns Ranked”. He loses them the minute he brings anime characters into it, as everyone suddenly develops incredibly passionate opinions about the rankees, but Lloyd’s laughing too hard to have his own opinion and Kai doesn’t feel like he’s drowning under inadequacy anymore — just choking to death under the weight of Jay’s elbow for daring to insult Re:Zero as an anime “since it actually has Oni in it, idiot, your opinion is trash—”

They get things back to being okay, one way or another.

---

Somewhere in the third month of renovations, they finally scrounge up six whole beds. It takes a good deal of dragging and cursing, but they finally manage to move into their own rooms, the once-empty spaces looking a little less lonely.

“Now we don’t have to all sleep together in the same room anymore,” Jay announces. There’s no small amount of celebration at that.

The celebration lasts up until sometime around three in the morning, at which point the consistent nightmares land them all right back in the pile of communal air mattresses.

“Just for like, one more night,” Kai yawns, as Lloyd curls closer beneath his arm.

“Totally, yeah,” Nya echoes, one leg spread across Jay, her arm sprawled over Kai.

“Go to sleep already, FSM’ sake,” Cole begs, before slumping over Zane.

For all Cole’s begging, he’s still the first to act when Zane suddenly lurches up from the bed, gasping for air like he’s drowning and giving them all joint heart attacks.

“—hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just us—”

Cole’s hands hover, non-threatening, as Zane buries his face in his palms, breathing ragged. The others have begun to get up now as well, the slow kind of approach that lets Zane know exactly where each of them are.

“I despise this,” Zane spits, as his hand drags down to fist over his chest. “I hate feeling like this. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it—”

“I know,” Cole says. “I know.”

“This is why — it’s so much easier—“

“It’s okay, it’s—”

“It is not! I do not need to breathe, and yet I can’t!” Zane bursts out, frustrated and frightened. “I’m not supposed to break down like this, I do not, I do not—”

“You’re not a machine,” Cole says steadily. “You get to break down.”

“But if I—”

“You don’t,” Lloyd murmurs. “You don’t have to turn ‘em off, Zane. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Zane’s head lowers, his eyes shadowed. “It wouldn’t hurt,” he says, but it’s reluctant.

“Yeah, you’d never hurt, but you’d never be happy, either,” Kai says. “And that’d suck.”

“It’d suck for us, too,” Cole speaks up. “We’d have to live without your laugh. Without your sassy remarks. Without your kindness.”

“We’d live without you,” Lloyd says, quietly. “And you wouldn’t really be living, would you?”

Zane crumples, his shoulders shaking as he allows Kai to pull him close.

“If it gets too much, just come to us,” Jay says. “We’ll be more, okay? We’re pretty good at that.”

Zane gives a wet, stifled laugh.

“Don’t go, even if it’s just your emotions leaving,” Nya murmurs, her head against his. “It isn’t worth it.”

With slowing shudders, Zane lets himself relax, the warmth of their little family pressing around him. Kai is an immovable barrier at his side, save for where Lloyd’s tucked beneath his arm. Jay’s legs tangle with Lloyd and Cole’s, his hand held tightly in Nya’s.

“Leaving isn’t worth it,” Nya echoes. “Not in any lifetime.”

---

Bit by bit, the monastery comes together.

The smell of new paint gives way to a familiar scent of mixing elements and laundry soap, one that’s followed them since the first Bounty. They comb through every online shop until they find the exact brand of sheets that feel like the first apartment they ever lived in together. Thrift shops and sales and birthdays stock closets once again, new hoodies that are quickly stolen and passed back and forth. The collection of CD’s and movies rebuilds into stacks once again through shared movie nights and pirated music.

And little by little, with the consistent passage of time, photographs line the walls of the monastery once again.

A little older, a little worn, but a collection of family all the same.

---

“Except we still don’t have damn central heating—”

“Suck it up and light the fireplace, hothead.”

“No respect in this city. None at all.”

#lego ninjago #ninjago #post-crystalized #my fanfic #had to post one (1) at least #tbh this is terrifying! i forgot how to write #my fic

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jiminy-crickets · 9 months ago

Note

I’m sorry but the whole Connor Bedard having an allergic reaction because his trainer wouldn’t let him have fast food reminds me of when sdpn said that Bedard’s mom said he’s never had fast food before and like she said she knew eventually and it IS good for him to not have fast food, but it makes me think of diet culture and eating disorders. Like the no fast food thing still leaves a variety of food, and I’m sure he’s had pizza before; it’s really the fact that he couldn’t even have pizza ONE time with his team because his trainer wanted him to ‘eat healthy’ for the game (guess what due pizza is healthier than having an allergic reaction). Even if he had been on a crazy strict diet and got sick because his body wasn’t used to what’s in pizza, it’d still be healthier than an allergic reaction (and again, clearly he doesn’t care about Connor’s health just what he can do for the trainer’s image because he let him play the game and did care at all about how bad Connor was feeling.)

Like the obsession with food to the point you can’t eat xyz even once is eating disorder behavior, and I think the fact that players have to eat more than non/athletes and are expected/desire to get bigger is one of the reasons why eating disorders aren’t as common, but imagine how this messes with their heads. Like people who are like “oh my trainer is going to be mad at me for eating xyz one time don’t tell them” is like K-pop idols with management that pushed eating disorders to keep idols’ bodies marketable territory. NHL players are adults and now one should care about their diet to the point that they get mad at them for having one meal that goes against their nutrition plan. They are adults who make their own decisions and nutrition plans should a guideline to help players get what they need not a list of DO NOT EAT THIS foods or specific foods they have to eat.

(Also I think the nhl’s concept of ‘team’ is a little too close to the corporate ‘family’ which is always used to dehumanize employees and get them to give up their free time/health/family/identity for the benefit of the corporations bottom line that is never payed back to the employees. Like yes there’s the team as in the players, but there’s also that concept of team that is the pressure to get players to hurt themselves to win and shut up if they experience discrimination and also to shut up if they disagree with the nhl’s safety protocols that aren’t even follow a lot of the time.)

you said everything wonderfully, the ONLY thing i have to add, is this HEARTBREAKING quote.

"people close to him aren't sure he's ever had a cookie"

in fact that article is chock full of the MOST concerning quotes about a hockey player i have ever fucking read, "highlights include" connor stays long after practice and replies "im working" when people try and get him off the ice, when they think he's over working himself they hide his sticks because he's too superstitious to use someone else's (they have done this... multiple times), he tried to convince the coaching staff to let him play though his broken jaw because chara did so during the finals in 2019, he drank as much food and supplements as he could so he wouldn't lose weight while his jaw was still wired shut.

and yes 10000000000 fucking %, the leagues "we're a family" is NASTY, no!!! NO YOU AREN'T!!!!!! stop trying to be "a family" and start trying to be a GOOD EMPLOYER!!!!!!!

#okay maybe i added a bit more then just the quote #asks #connor bedard

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 1 year ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄.

pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader

summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing.

trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies.

trigger warnings (in this part): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies, wet dreams, screaming out from anger, hate speech, hate-thoughts.

prologue. part 1.

her nose bleed.

looking into the mirror, everybody could wonder that it didn't break from the look on y/n’s face. nosebleeding happened a lot of the time with her, her brother, joked like “this is what happens when even your blood can’t stay near your thoughts.” well, only if he knew that sometimes, it was true.

standing up, blasting the vases and the dolls she had on her shelf with a scream, everything fell down to the floor, broken into pieces, some of it cutting up her foot. still screaming, crouching to the ground, tearing out the pages of the old plan, she split her stupidity into litter. her whole body shook as she drew out the white powder she got from festus, spreading some on the edge of her thumb, sniffing it up. waiting until the calming feeling crawled in her blood to his brain and every little corner of her body, she felt full for a moment. her whole body shook as she stood up, stepping over the shards and thorns of her vases, her dolls and her roses. stomping over a doll with black hair, sy/n sat back to the dressing table. swiping the mascara off her face, then her lipstick, with baggy eyes, smeared makeup, with the eyes of a madwoman, her lips like she just ate something raw, her blood mixing with black and red, she wanted to tear up that bitch.

but let’s not be so fast. let’s begin with the first things and signs, the signs that got y/n in this state.

to begin with the good news, clemensia finally got out of the picture. y/n began the day at volumnia gaul, as she wrote in y/n’s response letter that she should be there tomorrow morning, so she can begin as soon as it’s possible. wearing her best clothes, she stood at nine am before the doctor’s doors. drinking a tea with her, y/n only saw only now how intimidating she looked –one of her, the ice blue one, came from the devil itself.

“i’m not gonna lie miss y/l/n, but when i saw your application letter on my desk, i was surprised.”

“how so? i mean, dr. gaul, i knew only the best biologists and scientists work for you, and i wanted to be one of them.”

“really? oh, yeah, i remember about your assignment, dear. tell me, when you wrote those words and sentences, did you already think about working at the game?”

“i mean… dr. gaul, please don’t get it wrong, i’m not really interested in the outcome of the games. twenty three people die anyway, and it’s not the maker’s task to make the games more interesting. that task is for the marketing section. i only want to see how venom can be planted.”

“is the littlest, sweetest child of cyril y/l/n interested in venom?”

“venom can be useful in so many ways. it can heal, and it can make things more interesting. it can make a single dinner turn into a full-night drama.”

volumnia looked at y/n, then began to giggle. y/n never felt something like before; it crawled down into her veins, just like the drugs she used, scratching her brain, just like the day of the graduation.

“miss y/l/n, i’m sure you have some ideas. and it’s not only about mono– and dicotyledons. come with me, let me show you something.”

their heels clicked on the floor as the biologists looked at a big glass-cage in front them. at first she didn’t even realize what she saw, only a million scales crawling into each other, different metallic colors in every shade of the rainbow, never stopping, always slowly moving pressed to each other like shiny, long bowels. it was a glass cage, full of snakes. but what’s so special about it?

“they are venomous.” could dr. gaul read her mind? “it’s my newest invention. these snakes can poorly see or hear, but have better smell than any dog, and much more venom than any of their natural kindreds.” stepping closer, y/n placed her hand on the glass. only one knock, and they both could be dead at this very moment.

“it’s truly amazing, dr. gaul.” she answered.

as one of dr. gaul’s assistants led her around after her lunch –everybody wore white clothes, some of them had masks on their face–, in the early afternoon, coriolanus and clemensia came in. speaking of the devil, she was sitting at one of the tables in the big, white hall full of canned animals and organs, running through papers and listing the books she had to read as he stepped in. y/n completely forgot about the annoying girl beside her, thinking about their date, she sprayed a little perfume on herself when she saw them coming closer. at night, y/n had first so-called wet dream –she attended a sleepover at arachne’s house twice, and they were talking about these kinds of dreams, when girls dreamed about their ‘crush’. why call it ‘crush’ when you can call it lover? sooner or later, if you’re tenacious enough, they’re gonna be your lover. or was it just y/n? anyway, she knew what sex was and that it was good (although she never did it), but it was strange to wake up feeling hot like having a fever. feeling that her underwear was sticky, at first she thought that she had her period, but looking at it –nothing. she wasn’t a daydreamer, but when she thought back to the dream, reaching for coriolanus as he hovered ove her from above, holding his big hand, caging hers as he kept his other hand at the back of her neck, long fingers digging into the nape of her hair, stroking it with each jolt, burying his face into her neck, giving out grunts like an animal, moving his hips into hers while y/n held onto his broad, sculpted shoulders– it was a little bit weird that her mind wasn’t focused. she was… wandering. how weird!

“hey, y/n, you already here?” clemensia asked her, making her look up from the paper. stilted smile, wide eyes, looking like she was ready to get all the credit from coriolanus for herself… yeah, she’s still a certified, annoying bitch.

“hello, y/n.” corio said, making her look at him with a slight smile. just like she always did.

“hi to you too. yes, well, seems like dr. gaul isn’t a procrastinator. she’s really a professional.”

“aren’t you scared to work between stuff like this? these glasses are creeping me out…” clemensia muttered. these things are hiding in you too, honey. sadly, the brain is missing, maybe in you too.

“no, i’m not. it’s rather interesting, biology and science are the future.”

before they could speak any further, volumnia appeared.

“i see you two just found your little friend, already on the front.”

“yes, and we are so happy about it.” said clemensia, dr. gaul bidded y/n to go with them. of course you are happy, connections are everything. y/n couldn’t decide if clemensia really was this bootlicker by her nature, or that his father was in trouble.

“miss y/l/n already have seen my newest, beautiful babies, but i want you to see them too.”

“is there a point to a color?” clemensia asked as they stepped up on the stairs before y/n.

“there’s a point to everything, miss devcoat, or to nothing at all… which brings me to your proposal.” dr. gaul answered, leaning with one arm on the cage. “which one of you actually wrote it?”

looking at the snake cage, knowing the snakes had really good smelling affinitions, dr. gaul’s question… did she doubt it, too? sure there were cameras on the reception, and as coriolanus told her, he handed in the paper. did she doubt it? no. she knew that it was not her. after clemensia’s little speech, y/n slightly smirked, but when coriolanus looked back at her, she reassuringly smiled.

“...so miss devcoat, reach in it for us, won’t you? so we might all consider your inspired ideas. don’t worry, my little predators are perfectly docile with those who they know they can trust. so if they’re used to your scent, if you’ll handle their food, for example… or if they’ve inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page.”

the fear on clemensia’s face was satisfying. of course, y/n didn’t want her to die, she wasn’t a savage, but she needed to learn her lessons. and when she got bitten in a sudden moment, falling down… y/n almost couldn’t contain the honest smile on her face. coriolanus of course, was scared about what happened to her, and she tried to act like it, too.

“miss y/l/n read about them this morning, surely she can say something about what this was.” dr. gaul said, making coriolanus turn to her.

“i think that this is just the natural selection of humanity. i wouldn’t think that clemensia lied, but… these snakes proved it. by scent, of course, but judging and deciding is in every creature on this planet. they just went against it.”

“mr. snow, your dear friend sees it right. and god, your suggestions! i will recommend my team implement as many as possible tomorrow, spread it in front of my team.” however, coriolanus didn’t seem eased.

“will she die?”

“the pleasure in breaking ground in one’s research as one gets to find it out. you better keep miss dovecote’s faith between us. i don’t think her mother would be happy to learn how her daughter was caught in a sudden… flu.” coriolanus looked at y/n. she furrowed her eyebrows, but knew that dr. gaul wasn’t one to fuck with. but one was out from her list, if she goes with speed like that, she can bid her problems really soon goodbye.

eating lunch together again, coriolanus suddenly held her hand. although it made her excited, his face contained the same worry he had when he saw clemensia.

“y/n, you are one of her workers now. dr. gaul is… i have some precautions with her, did you see what she did with clemensia?”

y/n nodded, stroking his hand with her thumb.

“corio, dear, dr. gaul did that because she knew you were the one who wrote all those proposals and ideas. she just couldn’t stand the unfairness.”

“i know, but she could have done it in a more gentle way, couldn’t she?”

“she could, of course. dr. gaul just wanted her to learn a lesson, she was always on your back, coriolanus. i feel really sorry about her” no, of course i’m not. “, but you need to cut off the people who don't help you by their true being. i think casca highbottom’s goal was also this, for all of you to realize these things.” was it emotional and logical enough? she really hoped, and she eased up when coriolanus’ eyes lit up.

“you are right, y/n. i’m grateful to you for telling me the truth.”

“i’m never telling the truth, i am not a judge. or, only the times when it’s time. i’m just saying my thoughts as an outsider.”

“you may be an outsider by the games, but you’ll never be one in my life. thank you so much.”

“i’m always happy to hear your thoughts, corio.” enough from the bullshit, let’s get to the more important stuff. “by the way, the date… how am i supposed to dress? our chauffeur can drive us anywhere, i talked with my father and he can go with his administrative car, so…”

“i want to bring you to a little restaurant, where i ate with my family when i was a child. it’s not big, but i really hope you will like it. and you can wear anything you want, i’m not gonna be disappointed.”

y/n wanted to kiss him. so bad, to seal their whole life forever. despite that fact and her wants, she brushed one of her locks behind her ear.

“thank you, corio. i just want it to be perfect.”

after lunch, standing up, as y/n guided him out, he held her hand.

“what will you do for the rest of the day?” she asked coriolanus, hoping they can be together for more time than just a simple lunch. if the date goes well, and it will go well, will they have little, secret dates together? will he come for her family’s dinner? it was mandatory always in her family, and he didn’t need to be introduced, but still, it was tradition.

“i’m going to see if lucy gray is okay in the zoo. tomorrow we are planning on getting them food, would you go with me? the others will be there as well, and i’d like to introduce you to her.”

really? well, it can happen, only if the media isn’t there. but it will, because these actions are making history right now. and if y/n is on the side of coriolanus, it can help him. her family, mainly her father will make her a joke, but he was so cynical that it didn’t matter. and this way, she can check that lucy gray for herself.

“i’ll go with you, of course! it’s a wonderful idea.” she grabbed into his arms as they stepped out on the gates. she needed to go back of course, but she didn’t mind.

“thank you, y/n. after that, be there at the restaurant at seven in the evening.”

“i can’t wait for it, corio.” she smiled, looking up at him. brushing her hair, coriolanus bent down to kiss her cheek. it needed such a little move of her head to catch his lips, but she contained herself. today’s sacrifices are for tomorrow’s prizes. his lips were perfect, of course, including her dream from yesterday’s night, she held onto his arm to stroke it.

“then tomorrow, y/n. take care of yourself, okay?”

“just as always, please do the same, dear.” she muttered, making him smile. to kiss his lips, to dig her fingers into his hair, to lay into his arms as they watched that the majority of the votes called to him on the election of the presidency of panem… having dreams like this was the cause she didn’t get medicine through her veins.

well, maybe they needed it after the tv-show at night. laying on her bed as usual, smoking a cigarette while reading, thinking about the outfit she could wear tomorrow night, her sister knocked on her door.

“can i come in, y/n?” stubbing the butt of the cigarette, she stood up to open the door. as she laid back, morphia sat on her bed, putting her hand on her sister’s leg. “what’s up with you, little sister?”

“dr. gaul accepted my application, so i spent the day with her in her office. and you? how is the wedding?”

“well, i chose the taste of the cake yesterday, then spent the night with my old colleagues, the ones who i don’t invite to my wedding. it’s a shame, i know, but i only want my loved ones on my biggest, happiest day. and today, i spoke with timothé who said that the place by the hills is reserved, so we can have it to yourselves. it’s gonna be truly beautiful, isn’t it?”

“yes, it truly will be beautiful. do you want a cigarette?” y/n asked, showing her sister the package. morphia took one, y/n took out a new one and lit it for both of them. “are you sure that you love timothé? from what do you know you love him?”

morphia smiled, blowing out the smoke. it was strawberry flavored, her mother hated it. she only blew those skinny, bad tasting sticks. the only excuse was that sometimes she spiced up with some weed. although y/n didn’t like weed.

“well, i just know it. you have a strange feeling in your heart.” check. “a feeling you have with no one else, and that you feel like you want to be around him, always.” check. “and you would do anything, and i really mean anything for him, and to be with him.” check. “because this is love. why are you asking this?”

“i just… i think i love coriolanus, too. the way you love timothé.”

“so nothing new, little sister.” she giggled, making y/n roll her eyes. she trusted morphia, although her marriage was needed because the family got to guarantee and secure their ten percent income from the district. this way, they could see the papers. the only problem were the plinths, who opposed this, but her father’s hands reached too long to raise a voice against the deal. and y/n wanted sejanus to get out of the picture, and after that, without descendants, they could only hope they will have what they got now until their death.

“but there is news, morphy. coriolanus invited me on a date.” at her words, morphia covered her mouth, pulling up her eyebrows. holding y/n’s hand, morphia smiled at her.

“really, y/n? oh my, it’s so wonderful! invite him for the wedding, if you want, but know that he’s an appreciated guest.”

“i will, if he’ll have the time. but he’s at the games right now in his mind, i don’t want to disturb him.”

“if he loves you, you’ll always be in his mind, you know. but the deadline is in one month, so please, tell me till then.”

“i will, morphy. i will.” she ended her second cigarette, throwing it into the burgundy ashtray, her sister did the same.

“do you want to come down? this night is the game’s night, i heard that the tributes got thrown into the zoo.”

“i know, me and corio will go there tomorrow.”

“then he surely forgot to mention that… he went there, too.”

what? rising to sit on her bed, y/n was really, really surprised.

“how do you mean that?” she asked, trying to believe that her sister just babbled some shit together, but she seemed really certain about what she stated.

“the tributes got thrown into a cage in the zoo, and your coriolanus was there, too. the interview is gonna be on the telly tonight, might come down and watch with us?”

going down on the stairs with a buzz in her head, y/n saw that the show was already on. lucretius ‘lucky’ flickerman, a weathercaster who was now tapped to host the interviews from the 10th hunger games stood in front of the cameras.

“sit down, dear, sit down.” her mother pointed to the place beside her. y/n decided to knee on the pillow where her cat laid, getting persephone into her arms. minutes later, there he was. morphia didn’t joke, he seriously got into that fucking cage? what the fuck?

“is that your new lover, my sweet?” her father asked y/n, getting a giggle from her sister and her mother. “i can admit that he’s really ambitious about winning the prize.”

y/n didn’t say anything, listening to what he and lucy gray said. that fucking bitch had the audacity to smile and brag like she was the new star, but she wasn’t. she was just a poor, miserable wanderer who got into the games because she fucked around. how could a… thing like lucy gray hold onto a hand she held this afternoon, too? she wasn’t a princess or a noble or a singer or an actor to have a big mouth like this, to act like this.

and truly, it seems like she wanted to take away her lover. and it was something y/n could never accept, in any conditions, at any time, or in any situation. never.

“are you okay, y/n?” her mother asked. “your hand is shaking.”

brushing her hair, she looked at her mother, trying to nod with composed moves.

“everything’s fine, mommy. i just need to go upstairs to take a bath, and to take my medicine.”

and now, she was sitting at her dressing table. it wasn’t just unfair and rule-breaking how lucy gray played, but it was really, really degrading. her face burned in shame, and she wanted to claw down it all with her skin.

closing her eyes, she prayed for sanity. sanity to go through the next weeks, for sanity to handle situations well, for sanity for her plan. repeat after me, y/n. repeat after me, you stupid bitch.

i am y/n y/l/n, youngest member of the house y/l/n. we are noble, i am noble, and i deserve everything that i have now.

picking up the doll she stepped over only minutes ago, stroking its hair, it was just a plaything. all people were just playthings, playing. how could lucy gray be anything else?

i am beautiful, clever and nobody can ever drag me down. the people who hate me are only envious of my life, my body and my mind, but they’re all going to soil.

looking aside, the fireplace in her room was on. running her thumb through the doll’s porcelain face the last time, she threw it into the fire. long, skinny flames crawled up on the soft fabric of its dress, licking the wall as the fine china cracked. it was time to take a bath.

i love the life i have, and i will appreciate every single second of the life i will have when i achieve my goals. i have every tool i can use to win, and i will use them to be the woman i want to be. it’s not far away, and everyday is a chance to be closer to the woman i want to be.

“hortense, do you think a woman can make a man hers?” she asked from her maid as she sat in the hot water, hortense braid her hair to be curly for tomorrow, fasten it with silk ribbons.

“i think, miss y/l/n, that women have power. so probably, yes, but please, don’t make yourself hurt. your safety is the first.” hortense answered from behind her back, helping her wash her back. so probably, yes. if even a maid knew that, then why did lucy gray try to stand between her and coriolanus?

laying in her bed, ready to sleep, she stroked persephone’s fur.

“how could she do that, persy?” whispering in silence, only getting a meow back, y/n thought about the cage of the snakes dr. gaul showed her today. only a little crack, and everybody could die in unbearable pain, only under mere seconds. maybe she also had to be a cage full of snakes. only a crack on her mind she already had, and everybody could die into what she did.

maybe she was already.

a/n: thanks for the waiting babiez, i hope you liked this part too <3 also, wish me luck for my exams 😩

taglist: @champomiel @stelleduarte @diamondsbestie

(ask for taglist in comment, dm or here!!)

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow icons #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #hunger games x reader #hunger games imagine #hunger games fic #hunger games fanfiction

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greeniegaes · 5 months ago

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I’ve been thinking about omegaverse WangXian AU and I’m so not normal about it

Basically, WWX was always known as a beta by people around him, constantly hiding his scent and on such heavy suppressors he’d practically never have a heat. When the Wens take all of the young cultivators/clan heirs or whatever he no longer has access to that kind of stuff and it’s only so long before the medication’s effect goes away.

In the big carnivorous turtle cave he can feel his omega-ness slowly come back so he’s desperate to get out away from all the young alphas and betas he’s surrounded by. Things go as cannon and only him and LWJ are left in the cave and LWJ??? Well he’s not doing too well, neither of them are with their fevers, being stuck in a cave alone and pheromones- oh yea LWJ is in rut too lol

So they do their do in the cave, escaping out and then WWX runs off after making the other man swear he’s not gonna tell anyone that WWX is an omega.

During the attack on Lotus Pier WQ pulls WWX aside asking if he knows about the kit in his womb. WWX, freaking out about it swears her to secrecy. He’s been… kinda aware about it over the month or two that’s past, but just used his high level of cultivation to just keep it in a dormant state.

When he gives JC his core such a thing isn’t an option. He doesn’t want his child to live during a time of war so he promises himself to end the war against the Wens before his birth.

He levels up his demotic cultivation at way faster of a pace, easily out numbering any bad Wen troops, cutting off the supply lines, anything to get an advantage. His tactics are often called brutal, disgusting but most of the Sunshot doesn’t care because whoever is doing it is on their side.

Keeps following cannon but now LWJ has just a totally weird feeling in his gut all the time. He swears he can feel WWX’s emotions, the stress, the fear, the agony all of it. When he finally lays eyes on who he knows is WWX as the man takes down WC and he can’t help but feel relief. Relief that after nine months (WWX froze his pregnancy for like two months so he’s about eight and half along) he’s finally able to see the man he’s fallen in love with, that he spent a rut with while the man was in heat.

WWX doesn’t acknowledge him.

He doesn’t even really acknowledge JC, his little shidi who’s so excited to see him again. WWX remains quiet, a large cloak wrapped over his whole body

Instead of properly interacting with his friends he instead asks when their plan to attack the nightless city is (he has less then two months, and by god he wants peace of mind that his child won’t be born in a war). He lets them take him to the war camp, discussing with the leaders like LXC and NMJ to move the battle forward, saying that he can balance out the sides.

They agree and that’s that.

At the final battle WWX holds up the tiger sigil, controlling more undead then he ever has. He watches as the rest of the tyrannical Wens get torn apart, their army in ruins before NMJ takes their leader’s head. Some of them still fight, and in a blaze of glory WWX destroys the tiger sigil, creating a bright light that takes out more of the Wen’s army, any of the roaming undead and himself.

LWJ feels his blood go cold. He can’t feel WWX suddenly. He canthecanthecant.

Where did his omega go?

Back in Yiling WWX falls to the ground, any last remains of his power, spiritual or demonic finally shredded into pieces. WQ helps him recuperate, Wen Yuan at his bed side as he looks up.

It’s then and there WWX smiles as he promises himself a normal life, patting A-Yuan’s head and scenting him like he’s his own kit.

Two years later.

LWJ feels lost, constantly wandering around for something, any sign of WWX. He’s looking at hair ribbons in a market outside of Yiling, a beautiful red ribbon with lotuses embroidered in it. He jolts as he feels a hold on his leg, looking down curiously.

“Baba?” The little kid asks, no more then two years old. A six year old huffs as he goes over, bowing his head in apology to LWJ.

“Sorry Mister, my brother gets confused.” Wei Yuan huffs, pulling his younger brother away. LWJ sucks a breath in as he looks at the young toddler, tan skin, enchanting yellow eyes, perfectly straight hair except with the tips granted a slight curl.

There’s no denying this is a Lan child, just from looks alone, but the scent surrounding both of the children? That’s something LWJ had smelt once, trapped in the cave in the throes of passion with his mate.

Wei Wuxian. Wei Ying is alive.

A young looking man pulls the children away before LWJ can say anything. The man picks up the two year old and gently holds him in his arms, the six year old grabbing onto the man’s leg, still glaring at the alpha.

“Sorry about that, sir.” A soft voice rumbles with a chuckle, freezing as he looks up at LWJ for the first time.

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ereardon · 1 year ago

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The Backup || Jake Seresin x Reader [teaser]

“That can’t happen again.”

“It will.”

You sighed loudly, flinging yourself backward onto the mound of pillows, knowing that he was right. Jake rolled off the bed, tugging on his boxers.

He grinned. “Any more bad dates planned for this week?”

“A blind date on Friday,” you replied, rolling onto your side to face him as Jake got dressed. “Someone that a secretary from my work knows.”

“A blind date, really?”

Ignoring his comment, you replied, “What about you?”

“No plans.”

“Which means that you’ll have a date lined up by Thursday.”

“And it’ll be a flop and we’ll be right back here on Friday night.”

“I’m serious Jake, this can’t keep happening.” You stepped out of bed, slipping on a silk robe and tying it tightly around your middle. “We can’t be each other’s fallback every time a date goes sideways.”

“So end it,” he said. “You’re the one that called me tonight, remember?”

“I’m weak,” you replied and Jake chuckled.

“You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but weak isn’t one of them. Except when it comes to those mall pretzels.”

“Well those are objectively the best.”

“True.”

You watched as Jake finished getting dressed, tying his shoelaces, slipping on his jacket. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Are we fucking each other up by doing this? Like are we the reason that every single date goes bad? Because I feel like lately they all end up sucking.”

“The dates are bad because our options are bad,” Jake replied. “We’re not cursed, Stinky. That’s just how these things go. You date and date and just when you think you want to fling yourself over the Golden Gate you find one person who suddenly makes things work. And then you live your weird Hallmark lives together forever.”

“You, Jake Seresin, believe that?” You raised your eyebrows. “What happened to the guy I met three years ago who didn’t realize that girls don’t want to come over to your fucking Tenderloin apartment and see a bed without a bed frame?”

“I loved that apartment and it was dirt cheap,” Jake argued. “Besides, you’re not much better. Remember when you thought guys actually liked girls who wore Birkenstocks?”

“They’re comfortable!”

“You looked like you were going to yell at me for not using a reusable jar to grind my own peanut butter at Whole Foods for twenty dollars an ounce. It was heinous. Also they smelled like ass.” Hence, the nickname that you hoped would die but never did.

“You’re just saying that because your type is girls who stomp around in size five Aquazzura heels on Market Street and have their daddy’s Amex card numbers memorized.”

“Better than your type. Mr. Couch potato, looks practically homeless and asks you to split the check at dinner because he’s too cheap to pay for your baked potato.”

“That happened twice, that’s not a pattern.”

“More than once is concerning.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed because I can’t fucking stand you.”

“Stop stroking my ego.”

“Goodnight, Seresin,” you said, walking toward the kitchen, your back to him. “Slam the door on your face on your way out, won’t you?”

“Night Stinky,” he said and you could hear his footsteps trailing down the hallway. “See you next weekend!”

You grabbed a half-empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge door and slammed it, a little too hard, the sound of bottles inside rattling as you unscrewed the cap and chugged directly from the bottle. It was acidic, probably too old, but it would do the trick. Anything to block out Jake’s words that haunted the quiet air of your apartment even after he was gone.

He was right. Somehow the two of you always fell into bed together. The dates always went belly up. Hinge, Raya, Bumble, League. No app worked. No blind set up. It was like clockwork: you’d spend an hour getting ready for a date, and within five minutes you’d know that at the end you’d call an Uber to take you to Jake’s. Or vice versa: he’d show up at your door with a pocketful of condoms and a smirk. It always ended the same way. For almost a year, you and Jake had been filling the gaps of your dating life with each other. Friends with benefits. No strings.

And, of course, you made a point to keep it from the friend group. Coyote would throw an absolute fit if he found out.

[Note: Special shoutout to @clancycucumber230 for the idea!]

#jake hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin au #jake hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #top gun x you #top gun x reader

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rockyteriyaki · 7 months ago

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TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES 👯

s/o to @powerful-owl for starting this meme and @disarmd for the insanely funny contribution, it’s such a delightful thought exercise! here’s my attempt:

MASCOTS!

american sports have hella mascots, so every team is tasked to create a marketable mascot that could represent them for u.s fans. they also have to build a little model to pitch the concept. there’s the williams whale sharks. the aston martin martinis. lando and oscar devise a walking papaya named penny who looks so much like a vulva oscar backs out almost instantly.

GUESS THE GRID based on clothing choices: drivers assemble an outfit they’d wear and then everyone else tries to guess who picked what. the catch is that the f1a girls did the same challenge and their answers are mixed in as well. everybody thinks doriane’s mercedes-themed picks are george’s and maya gets confused for charles even though there’s no ferrari branding to be seen. chloe’s picked a haas cap with a black skirt and we watch nico hulkenberg go through every emotion known to man trying to figure out why kevin would—???

(meanwhile the academy grid is absolutely ripping everybody’s style choices to shreds, accusing hamda of being the most basic bitch on the planet bc max chose to wear basketball shorts, etc)

PADDOCK SCAVENGER HUNT

5 teams are in on it and the other 5 can’t know what’s going on, otherwise they lose points. charles pretends that he’s too tired to walk when pierre catches him searching the top of a cabinet on carlos’ shoulders. oscar distracts williams while lando tries to get a picture of logan with red, white and blue objects in the background. yuki gets stranded on top of the rbr motorhome because daniel won’t stop using him for reconnaissance and the whole thing gets called off because max sees them squabbling on the roof and thinks the rapture has arrived.

GEORGE AND ALEX MAKE GRAPHICS

ib george’s natural talent for graphic design. the audience gets to see what a communications team actually does in motorsport (educational!) and george and alex get free reign of the entire library of press photos of eachother. george is hunting for a terrible picture of alex to edit onto a podium but ends up having a very verbal crisis about how none of the pap shots are appropriately bad and then spends the next half an hour digging himself into theeee deepest hole talking about how it’s just not as FUNNY if alex looks TOO GOOD on the podium! it would be UNFAIR! alex is squirming and trying to remember where tf he was planning on going with this zoomed-in great-gatsby-esque picture of george’s eyelids on his screen right now. george silently edits alex’s teeth out of his mouth and tries to erase the fact that he just called alex handsome like 47 times.

MARIO KART SIM RACING

im talking full immersion. sherbet land is ice fucking cold. every time they drive over some kind of giant clock or railroad or something the sim porpoises like a jackhammer. someone is standing behind them with a full tank of water for the splash sections. there’s a legitimate epilepsy warning at the start of the video. bowser puts the fear of god into lando norris.

MAX AND DANIEL DO TEMPORARY TATTOOS

i’m hesitant to allow them access to a bowl of water but i have an extremely clear vision of daniel slapping tats all over the blank spaces on his skin to the point where they overlap and he’s just got shiny plasticky tattoo skin everywhere. max would find this unappealing and also stupid until he realizes all the fake tattoos on his side of the table are replicas of daniel’s actual ones. cut to: daniel with a snake tattoo stuck in his eyebrow hairs hiking his shorts up so max can mirror the placement on his own inner thigh. daniel resembling a concussed post malone, watching max’s careful application of the ‘3’ tattoo. max does a horrible aussie accent and daniel looks like a chimpanzee seeing its own reflection for the first time. cinema.

#i am obsessed with this trend #a trace of the true self (complex inner psyche of your blorbo) exists in the false self (giving your blorbo a taser)#maxiel #galex #the grid

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dellalyra · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I saw that your requests are open so if I may can I request headcanons for Nanami and Gojo when reader is pregnant? Like some random moments as well as how they act during the whole thing from telling them about the pregnancy! Also congratulations on thsu milestone!

Thank you and have a good day/night <3

AGH YAY I LOVE THIS thank u so much for sending this in!!!!

CW: I guess a lil nsfw, f!Reader, soft as hell, suggestive themes

✭ Pixie’s 1.5k Follower Celebration - send in headcanon requests! ✭

✵ NANAMI ✵

✵ you and kento had definitely been planning for a child, and actively trying. He was actually the one to suggest a baby at first, you’d been married for 2 years and he had always wanted to be a father.

✵ 100% the kind of man who would have you both taking fertility vitamins to help encourage a healthy pregnancy.

✵ safe to say - babymaking was the highlight for you both. The thought of you having his child drove this man insane (nanami breeding kink go brrr) he was literally insatiable.

✵ He was actually the one to sense you were pregnant, you had been feeling under the weather for a day or two, not thinking much of it since you’d been trying for only 2 months and it was November. But, then Kento brought you both home some delicious ramen from a local market and the smell had you SPRINTING to the bathroom. When he was done holding back your hair, he opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a test.

✵ When the two very strong lines appeared you jumped into your husbands arms as he spun you in a circle, whispering sweet nothings.

✵ During your pregnancy, Kento would not let you lift a finger. He was on you with your prenatal vitamins, smoothies, foot rubs, every type of Lamaze class you could think of

✵ god the other women in the Lamaze class were just fawning over your husband, arm around your swollen waist, attentive to every moment you make (and those muscles under his well fitted sweater helped)

✵ he made sure to read to your baby every night, as well as rubbing lotion into your bump to help the stretching skin.

✵ builds the crib and nursery furniture himself (from scratch), and helps you paint and prepare.

✵ you both decide on Yuuji as godfather

✵ just so prepared to be a dad man, literally came pre assembled as a father.

✵ Gojo ✵

✵ k SO one of two situations, yay surprise baby or you guys had like an ‘if it happens it happens’ situation going on, no pressure or planning

✵ I think Satoru had been scared to be a father at first, but then he realised that love isn’t a curse, and the love you two have is so powerful it can create a whole other person, not even his six eyes can do that.

✵ there’s no need for a pregnancy test , you come home one day and he freezes - you had been gone when he woke up that morning, a mission an hour or two away but short and easy. You got back around noon, and giggle at your husbands surprised face.

✵“baby, it’s … it’s not just you. i can see them.”

✵“okay mr. I can see dead people what are you on about?”

✵ he just lays a big hand over your still-flat belly, and you gasp, realising what he means. He can see the tiny amount of cursed energy coming from your womb. A combination of his and yours makes for a powerful residual. The little dot pulsed along with what he presumed was the baby’s heart.

✵“are you serious? please don’t joke ‘Toru”

✵ “shush, you’ll wake up our baby.”

✵ you both drop to your knees and he wraps his big long arms around you

✵ “we’re having a baby ‘Toru.”

✵ he warps you both straight into shokos office and by your teary smile and Satoru’s beaming face she just says congrats and pulls out the ultrasound machine.

✵ you’re 6 weeks along, “hey lil’mochi, this is your momma, and I’m papa, but she calls me dadd-”

✵ SPOILS YOU

✵ immediately you both go to the shop, baby clothes, toys, plushies, a whole new family car.

✵ literally ridiculous

✵ plans the biggest baby shower, he’s just so happy

✵ a little scared he won’t be a good enough dad but you shut that down straight away

✵ any and all cravings are catered to

✵ gets even more handsy and insatiable during your pregnancy, just seeing you swollen with HIS child makes him fucking FERAL

✵ PARENTING BOOKS

✵ at night, sits and chats with your bump, head laying on your lap facing the bump, your hands in his hair, usually stories of how he met you, embarrassing little megumi, how he annoys Uncle Nanamin, how awesome he is

✵ has planned an entire emergency plan for you and the baby, it’s eased his mind. He didn’t tell you, just put precautions in place.

✵ draws faces on your bump

✵ helps you bathe and shower and washes your hair because ‘Mrs. Gojo deserves whatever she wants.’

✵ fights with the higher ups and threatens them so much that they give you both a years parental leave, more if needed. Scary man <3

✵ has lists as long as him of name ideas, does not shut up about all the things he wants to do

✵ constantly posting and sharing photos of ‘pretty mama’

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo hcs #nanami headcanons #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami hc #jjk headcanons #pixie’s 1.5k follower celebration #family formations drabbles

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fortheloveofwonderland · 8 months ago

Text

Rusty | Chapter 16 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary - You and Spencer start making plans to leave Bandera. When Spencer makes a discovery about Luke, it leads to him having a blow out with the whole BAU team before saying his goodbyes to his old friends.

A/N - there will be a time jump after this chapter and things will ramp up pretty fast. Also just to note, if it seems like Spencer takes two steps forward and five back sometimes it’s because he does. Healing is not linear and he still has a long way to go.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - dissociation, jealousy, swearing, tears, arguing, mentions of prison and vague hints of sexual abuse, mentions of Cat Adams and Ben’s Believers, Luke and Spencer are both mean, goodbyes, sad BAU team.

WC - 6.8k

Chapter 16 - Take Your Memory With You

Grant was whistling to himself as he swept the barn floor, finishing up making the ranch look as presentable as possible. He was working tirelessly getting the place to look as orderly and neat as he could before he had a realtor round to get the old place on the market.

He was slightly wistful about the idea of selling his parents ranch but the excitement he felt about taking the next step outweighed it. He’d already eagerly been looking at homes in DC and Virginia, scouring job vacancies and preparing for his potential move.

He and Luke spoke on the phone and texted every chance Luke had available whilst working on a case he could tell Grant little about. Every time his phone went off and he saw Luke’s name on the screen he got butterflies in his stomach. He didn’t know this, but Luke also experienced the same thing when Grant texted him.

It was probably crazy that he was considering this, packing up his life and moving to the other side of the country for a man who was supposed to be a one night stand.

He’d never once allowed himself to throw caution to the wind, to do something reckless like this. He was sensible, predictable, he didn’t do things like this. But that was part of the reason he wanted to do this.

It might be insane and it might end up being the dumbest thing he’d ever done but he had to give it a try. Luke had made him feel things he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt and it was worth the risk to see if there could be something lasting between them.

As he finished sweeping, he wiped his brow on his sleeve and leant the broom against the wall of the barn. As he did so, he heard the faint sounds of footsteps on the gravel. His brows pinched together, he wasn’t expecting company.

He picked up his shotgun which was leaning near the broom but didn’t raise it, taking a few cautious steps out of the barn with it by his side. He was surprised to see Spencer headed up the path, one hand in a thick splint and the other in the pocket of his jeans. He wore a brown suede stetson which covered his mess of hair.

Grant placed the shotgun back down and rubbed his hands together as the other man slowly approached. Spencer was offering him a slightly lopsided smile as he grew closer.

“Uh, hey, sorry to just show up here like this.” Spencer rolled his lip awkwardly between his teeth.

“Not a bother.” Grant shrugged. “What can I do you for?”

Spencer removed his stetson, holding it in his good hand while he considered how to begin. He’d told you last night he was going to get moving on selling the ranch so the two of you could make a break before Luke inevitably showed back up and that’s what he was trying to do.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush.” Spencer exhaled. “I’m leaving Bandera and wondered if you were looking to acquire any more land? I’ll be leaving my cattle and two of my horses as well if that sweetens the deal. I’m not looking to break even or anything, I just need a quick sale.”

Grant narrowed his eyes on Spencer curiously, a small smile creeping to his lips.

“Well I’ll be, I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Grant chuckled deeply.

“You’re leaving too?” Spencer’s brows pinched together.

“Yeah, I’m relocating to the East Coast.”

“Oh,” Spencer pulled a face. “How come?”

Grant chuckled again before a dreamy smile spread across his features and Spencer could tell he was getting a little lost in a memory.

“I, uh, met someone.” His cheeks flushed. “I reckon it makes me a damn fool for upping sticks for a man I hardly know but he’s not like anyone I ever met before. But I’m gonna make it to DC if the creek don’t rise.”

Spencer felt a sharp pain in his chest, his vision becoming blurry around the edges. He stared at Grant as the cogs turned in his head. Surely it had to be a coincidence? It could not be feasible that Grant was talking about…no, no way.

“Uh, DC?” Spencer croaked. “Weird, that’s where I’m from.”

Suddenly Grant’s brow furrowed heavily and he sucked in a deep breath as he remembered something Luke had said before he’d left.

“Never chose this life, it chose me. Always thought I’d get out of the south one day, move to some big city, ya know? New York, LA…maybe even DC. Unless that idea scares ya.”

“Why would it…why would it scare me?”

“You seem like the jumpy sort.”

“I was still processing an old break up. It ended suddenly and I never got any closure. But I think I have now, I think I’m ready to move on.”

“Hold on a gosh darn second,” Grant shook his head. “He’s not…you’re not…”

“Luke,” Spencer exhaled. “Luke Alvez?”

Both men’s expressions fell, skin paling as they came to the same conclusion. Spencer’s head started to spin and his vision grew even hazier.

“You’re the break up he was talkin’ about.” Grant pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had no idea, Spencer.”

“It’s fine.” Spencer shook his head, his tone saying it was anything but fine. “I’ve moved on. He should too. You two would make a great couple.”

It seemed as though you and Spencer weren’t the only ones with the same taste in men. Spencer stumbled backwards at the implications, feeling lightheaded.

“If I’d known-”

“It’s really fine,” Spencer laughed but it didn’t sound genuine. “You’ll love DC, it’s great. Uh, I should probably…go.”

Before Grant could say another word, Spencer was turning and running back down the path towards the road. Grant watched him go with a sigh. Of all the men in the world, he’d ended up in bed with Spencer’s ex. And clearly Spencer was not as fine with it as he made out.

***

When Spencer arrived back at the ranch he was in a complete daze. You found him wandering outside the lodge aimlessly. His eyes were unfocused, he wouldn’t respond to your voice or to your touch.

You led him inside but he didn’t even seem to realise what was happening. You sat him on the couch and went about breaking him out of his dissociation. You placed ice cubes in his hand, got him to drink some honey and lemon tea and used the photograph of his mom to snap him out of it.

You knew he’d gone into town to ask around if anyone was interested in buying his land, what had led to his dissociation? You wondered how long he had been in this state for, how long he had been wandering around like a zombie. You were grateful he’d made it back without hurting himself.

It took close to fifteen minutes but suddenly his eyes were present again and he looked at you with a frown, melted ice dripping from his hand onto the floor.

“Hey you,” you whispered with a soft smile. “You okay?”

Spencer blinked rapidly, looking down at what was left of the ice cubes in his hand, noticing the citrus flavour on his tongue and the photograph of his mother on the coffee table.

“Wh-what happened?” He croaked as if he’d just woken up.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me.” You quickly got up and went to the kitchen for some napkins.

You hurried back and scooped the last of the ice from his palm before giving him the napkins to dry himself off.

“I…I have no idea.” He shook his head.

He was lying. He knew exactly what had happened. Grant had met Luke and the two had clearly hit it off and now Grant was moving to DC to be with him. His Luke.

No, that wasn’t fair. Luke wasn’t his and hadn’t been for a long time. It wasn’t beneficial for Spencer to think that way. He had moved on, he had you, Luke was in his past.

Spencer had never had any intention of him and Luke being together again after he moved to Bandera, that relationship never would have worked again. But it didn’t mean he stopped loving Luke, stopped caring about him. And it made his heart ache to think of him with someone else. Now he knew exactly how Luke felt.

“So, you’ve moved on, huh?”

“It’s been two years, what did you expect?”

“What did I expect? Well for starters I expected more from you than leaving without a damn word! I expected that you wouldn’t completely cut me out of your life! I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot. So she gets the healed Spencer Reid? She gets to have you now you’ve worked through your trauma? When I was the one that spent a year by your side after, trying to help you? How is that fair?”

———

“No one can help me! Why don’t you understand that?”

“She seemed to be doing a fine job.”

“Goddamnit, would you let that go?”

“Let it go? How the hell can I let that go? Every time I close my eyes I will see her on top of you!”

Luke had to walk in on the two of you in bed, seeing first hand that Spencer had moved on. The mere thought of Luke with Grant was enough to cause him to slip into a dissociation, he couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Luke to witness that.

“You don’t remember?” You gave him a look of scepticism and Spencer shook his head.

How could he tell you what had sent him over the edge? There was no way he could admit that this had happened because he found out Luke had moved on. Spencer loved you, he loved you more than he’d ever loved anyone. But selfishly he thought Luke would always be there. God that made him sound terrible.

“No,” Spencer pushed himself to his feet, balling the napkin up in his hand and traipsing to the trash can.

“I don’t believe you.” You stood too, folding your arms over your chest. “You’re lying to me.”

Spencer sucked in a breath and slowly turned back to look at you, clenching his jaw tightly.

“Yes I am,” he nodded. “But only because I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Protect me from what?”

“If I tell you why I dissociated you will no doubt get upset and I have upset you way too many times before.” He heaved a sigh.

“Tell me.” You insisted. “Tell me right now.”

Spencer rolled his eyes a little, leaning back against the kitchen counter and glancing out of the window at the land beyond.

“I went to speak to Grant about buying the ranch and it turns out he’s also leaving town. He’s moving to DC because he met someone…” Spencer trailed off, keeping his eyes out of the window.

In his peripheral vision he saw you frowning, filling in the blanks to the sentence he didn’t want to finish and honestly it wasn’t all that hard.

“Luke?” You croaked.

“Yeah. Grant is moving to DC to be with my ex boyfriend.”

“And that caused you to dissociate.”

“Yeah.”

“Because you still have feelings for Luke.”

“Yes.” He huffed, turning his head to face you. “Of course I do. But I don’t want to be with him, okay? I want you and only you. But it surprised me and it upset me and I would understand if you were annoyed by my reaction.”

“Spence,” you exhaled, taking a few steps closer to him. “I’m not annoyed. He was a big part of your life, I understand that it would throw you through some kind of loop to find this out.”

“I really wish I didn’t love you so much.” His words surprised you as he raked his fingers over his ever growing facial hair.

“Why?” You frowned lightly.

“Because you’re too good for me.” He shrugged meekly. “Everything I’ve put you through, it’s too much. I’m a fucking wreak. Last night after we…fuck Y/N it was so amazing but when you were asleep I just…I felt numb. I should have felt something, you know? But I felt fucking numb because no matter how much I keep trying to convince myself otherwise, I’m not whole.”

Tears started down his cheeks and you came closer, placing your hands on the sides of his face and holding his gaze.

“I’m too good for you? Spencer, I murdered my step father.” You gently reminded him. “And so what if you aren’t whole? Who says you need to be?”

“I don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done.” He cupped the back of your neck in his good hand. “And I want to be whole, I want to give you every little piece of myself but I can’t because I lost a big part of who I am in prison.”

You cooed him, brushing his tears with your fingertips and trying to calm him down.

“As long as you can love me with every piece you have left, I’m okay with that.” You smiled before he was tugging you close for a kiss.

He could undoubtedly give you that, every shred that still belonged to him was yours. And he’d never loved you more than he did in that moment.

You were startled apart by the sound of a phone ringing. Spencer turned back to the counter where his device sat and saw the name flashing on the screen. You peered over his shoulder and saw it too.

His body went rigid and he sucked in a deep breath. His hand reached out for the phone and you saw it was trembling.

“You don’t have to answer it.” You whispered but Spencer was shaking his head.

“I need to.” He picked up the phone. “I need this to finally be over.”

Spencer took the phone and without looking at you, turned to the door and quickly left the lodge. You observed him through the window as he put the phone to his ear and continued walking in the direction of the stable.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and rolled your lip between your teeth. You just had to hope he was strong enough to handle this.

***

Spencer headed down the steps of his lodge and once his feet hit the dirt at the bottom, he answered the call. He huffed out a breath before he spoke.

“What?” He grumbled. He was met by silence for a moment or two so with a sigh he spoke again. “Hello? What do you want?”

Another short burst of silence and Spencer was grinding his teeth as he trailed up the path towards the stables.

“I, uh…” the voice croaked. “Sorry I didn’t expect you to answer.”

“Well I did. So what do you want? No, let me guess. Grant called you?” Spencer wished he could keep the bitterness from his voice but it was impossible.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”

“Sorry I found out that way or that I found out at all?” Spencer spat, unable to calm himself.

“You don’t get to be angry, Spencer.” Luke’s voice remained calm, but was laced with his frustrations.

“I get to be however the hell I want to be.” Spencer bit back.

“I found you in bed with a woman Spencer, if you’re allowed to move on so am I.” Luke growled slightly.

Spencer reached the stable and cradled the phone between his shoulder and face while he unlatched the door with his non-splinted hand.

“I don’t care about you moving on.” Spencer scoffed. “But you could have done that with literally anyone! Why did it have to be someone I know? Someone where I live?”

“Sounds like you don’t plan to live there much longer anyway. Grant said you were trying to sell him your ranch?” Luke spoke and then Spencer heard him thanking someone under his breath.

He must be at work. Judging by the sound of him then sipping something Spencer assumed someone had just given him a mug of coffee.

“That’s why I answered your call.” Spencer walked across the stable, ignoring his horses and sitting down on the wooden crate against the far wall. “I am leaving Bandera and I wanted to tell you to stop calling me. I need a real fresh start, one where you guys can’t keep hassling me.”

“Hassling?” Luke spat. “You’re mistaking us caring for hassling?”

“Luke you guys smother me!” Spencer raised his voice, almost immediately back on his feet. “For my entire FBI career I have been the youngest on the team which means I’m babied and coddled and I’m sick of it. I am a forty year old man! I don’t need you or anyone else to worry over me like I’m a still a kid.”

“After what you’ve been through, Spencer, how can we not worry about you? It’s nothing to do with age, or you being younger than everyone else. You spent three months in prison being abused before having to face off against your rival who tried to kill your mom. Then less than a year later you were taken hostage by Ben’s Believers, you almost died.

“And then you made the decision to runaway without telling anyone, except Prentiss but I’m sure you only told her because you had to. How the hell can we not worry about you? Half of the team expected you to relapse, you know? Hell, I thought you might relapse. How the fuck can we not worry about you when you’re out there in the middle of nowhere on your own!”

Spencer had started to pace while Luke ranted down the phone, back and forth through the stable and ignoring the attention seeking huffs from the horses.

“Well I’m not on my own anymore. And I’m leaving Bandera and I’m not telling any of you where I’m going. I picked up the phone to tell you this is the end. I will be blocking your numbers, fuck I might even just destroy my goddamn phone again so there is no way of Garcia tracking me down. It’s over Luke, I don’t want anything to do with any of you anymore.” Spencer spat harshly, unable to stop his rampant pacing.

“I’d argue with you but to be perfectly honest I’m sick of this. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time, I’m sick of feeling dejected every time you ignore my calls. I am sick of the fucking Spencer Reid show!” Luke yelled.

If he was at Quantico Spencer imagined it would have garnered a lot of attention.

“The Spencer Reid show? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Spencer grumbled.

“Our entire relationship was about you. You and your goddamn trauma, even before prison! You and your daddy issues or mommy issues and your adabonment issues and your sobriety and whatever the hell else you were dealing with. My PTSD didn’t matter. I had to suppress my own trauma, trauma from serving overseas to protect the fragility of your psyche.” Luke was really shouting now and Spencer could only imagine the eyes of the team were all on him.

The rage was pooling in Spencer’s stomach, rapidly clawing its way through his body. He turned to see Rusty staring at him but it wasn’t the same wary way she usually regarded him. Her eyes were wide but docile.

Tentatively he stepped closer to her, once again cradling the phone in the crook of his neck so he could raise his hand in her direction. He moved slowly, cautiously, so as not to frighten her. But she didn’t move.

He laid his palm against the side of her face and she nuzzled into his touch. Spencer felt a little sceptical by her sudden fondness for him when she’d previously shown him nothing but disdain.

He dared entwine his fingers with the coarse hair of her mane, trying to ground himself with the texture whilst staring into her large brown eyes. She made a small noise of contentment.

“If I was such a fucking problem for you then it shouldn’t be hard to hear that I never want to speak to you again.” He fought to keep his voice levelled and under control.

Luke was breathing heavily down the phone, clearly trying to rein himself in like Spencer was.

“You…” he huffed. “You fucking broke me, Spencer. The way you left, it destroyed me. Nothing in my life has ever hurt as much as having to hear from Prentiss that you’d left without a word. I’ve spent the last two years trying to get over you, trying to move past the pain that you caused. And I have finally met someone who made me forget all about you. I’m not asking you to be happy for me, but you don’t get to be mad either.”

Spencer kept his focus on Rusty, weaving his fingers deep into her golden mane and staring unblinking in her eyes. He swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. This was so strange.

“Have a nice life, Luke.” He breathed out. “Tell the others I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to forge my own path and the only way I can do that is by cutting old ties. I’m sorry.”

“You owe them more than that.” Luke was quick to speak, feeling as though Spencer was imminently going to hang up. “At least tell them yourself. We’re all here at the BAU, let me put you on speaker?”

Spencer clenched his jaw, holding tighter to Rusty as he felt his knees buckling. He knew Luke was right, he did owe them more than him vanishing again. It didn’t mean the thought of talking to them all didn’t make him feel nauseous.

“Fine,” he croaked out before he changed his mind. “Hurry up though.”

He heard shuffling and some barely perceptible whispers. A chair scraping across the floor, footsteps and a door opening and closing.

He knew Luke’s hand was over the microphone when he spoke again as his voice was muffled but he just managed to hear what he said.

“Guys, I’ve got Reid. He wants to talk to us all.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, that wasn’t exactly true but he wasn’t going to argue it. A little more shuffling as he assumed Luke put the phone on a table and then Luke’s voice was louder.

“Go ahead Spencer, we’re all here.” Luke remained on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rossi and Emily were standing by a layout board going over the information in the Sicarius case while Tara, JJ and Penelope were at the table, the latter hovered over her laptop and the other two looking over files.

Spencer was silent. He could all but picture his old team gathered in the round table room and he felt the nerves swarm his body.

He moved his hand from Rusty’s mane to the side of her face, brushing his fingers along the silky texture of her coat. Again she didn’t seem to have any qualms about him doing so.

“Uh, hi everyone.” He spoke quietly.

At the BAU, Penelope Garcia’s hand flew to her mouth as she stifled a gasp at hearing her boy wonders voice for the first time in what had to be months at this point.

Tears flooded to JJ’s eyes, obscuring her vision as she gnawed on her lip. Tara, Rossi and Emily managed to keep their composures.

“Kid, it’s good to hear your voice.” Rossi was the one to speak.

“Hi Dave, good to hear yours too.” Spencer’s voice cracked.

“Is everything okay junior G?” Garcia couldn’t stop herself speaking.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I, uh…I told Luke that I’m leaving Bandera. I need to get away from everything for real this time. And I’m afraid that includes all of you.”

More silence swelled in the room as the six agents exchanged looks of concern and upset.

“What do you mean?” JJ’s voice gave way to her sorrow.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to fully heal while I still have one foot in DC. I love you all very much but you all remind of me the worst things that have ever happened to me. I need a clean break. Last time I left without saying goodbye and Luke reminded me that I owe you more than that. So, uh, I guess this is goodbye.” He sighed, feeling strangely emotional.

Until now he’d only let himself think of how in running away with you he would miss his ranch and the life he’d created in Texas. He hasn’t let himself dwell on the idea that it also meant cutting ties with his old team entirely.

He heard a little more shuffling, key tapping and then the device cradled against his face beeped in his ear. With a frown he removed his hand from Rusty and pulled the device into his eyeline.

Incoming FaceTime call.

He grit his teeth. Apart from Luke he hadn’t see any of their faces in two years.

“Turn your camera on, Reid.” Emily’s voice came through the speaker, commanding him like he still worked for her. “At least let us say goodbye to you face to face.”

Spencer huffed, moving to sit back on the wooden crate. His finger hovered over the button for a moment or two before he accepted it.

This was going to be tough. It was hard enough lying to them at the best of times let alone face to face. As much as he was being honest when he said he was fed up of their babying, their worry it wasn’t the full story.

He had to cut contact with them in order to keep you safe. He was choosing you over his friends. He just had to keep his expression in check so they didn’t see through to his hidden agenda.

The screen was blank for a few moments and then suddenly it was as though he was back in the BAU round table room. He could tell from the angle that Garcia had mirrored Luke’s phone screen and his image was being displayed on the large TV.

Apart from Luke, none of them were prepared to see Doctor Spencer Reid sporting scruffy facial hair, with curls down to his shoulders and longer than any of them had seen in years or wearing a denim shirt over a plain white tee. But to their credits, they hid their surprise well, including Garcia.

Spencer almost waved at them before he remembered that would mean them seeing his splinted arm. Luke could have told them already but he didn’t want to worry them any more than they already were.

Garcia and JJ at the table both had tears in their eyes and Tara was sitting in the middle of them had her hands laced together in front of her. Emily and Rossi were nearest the camera and Luke was off to the side with his arms folded.

“Wow this is weird.” His brows pinched together. “I feel like I’m in the room.”

“Are you eating?” Garcia suddenly spoke up. “You look skinnier than I remember and that’s saying something because you were always so tiny.”

“I’m eating.” Spencer nodded.

“Clearly not enough.” Penelope huffed.

“Garcia,” Emily shot her a look to silence her and the bubbly blonde shrunk a little in her chair. “You look good Reid, rugged even.”

The small quip of her lip made Spencer chuckle.

“About time.” He joked but there was still the underlying melancholy in his voice. “I really am sorry to be doing this but I just need some time. I appreciate that you all care about me, but I’m fine I swear.”

“Does this have something to do with the girl? Because it seems like odd timing.” Luke grunted as he spoke.

Spencer felt his cheeks redden but only Rossi and Tara seemed confused by what he’d said. Spencer didn’t know that Luke had already filled Emily, JJ and Garcia in on how he’d found Spencer indisposed when he’d visited.

“Girl?” Tara cocked her eyebrow at the screen.

“Uh, yeah.” Spencer pulled a face. “I guess I met someone. Thanks for telling everyone, Luke.”

“So she’s the reason you’re leaving? Why you’re cutting us all out of your life?” Luke narrowed his eyes.

“No, of course not.” Spencer shook his head. “I just need to do this.”

“Is she going with you?” Luke frowned, his jaw set.

“That’s none of your business.” Spencer spat. “Why don’t you focus yourself on your own personal life rather than sticking your nose in mine.”

“Spence,” Emily spoke in her calming manner. “Is this still about what happened to you in prison?”

Spencer’s face fell and thanks to a combination of his new phone's excellent camera and the quality of pixels on the BAU screen, they all saw it.

“Prison? With your friend Delgado?” Garcia pouted.

“Spence, we know that was hard for you.” JJ added.

“That’s not what she’s talking about.” Luke spoke up, his slightly pointed tone obvious to everyone.

“What is she talking about?” Rossi frowned looking between his Unit Chief, Luke and Spencer on the screen. “Prentiss? Alvez? What do you know that we don’t?”

“Don’t you dare.” Spencer spat. “Don’t you fucking dare tell them!”

“They have a right to know why you’re being like this.” Luke growled.

“Alvez,” Emily scolded him. “It’s not your place. And it’s not mine either.”

The other members of the BAU gave each other curious looks while Spencer tried hard to control his anger. He couldn’t believe Emily would have the nerve to bring it up. She threw it out there like a grenade but refused to pull the pin, expecting him to be the one to do it.

“What happened in prison?” It was JJ who asked, of course it was. “What don’t you want us to know?”

“It’s nothing.” Spencer hissed. “Goddamnit Emily, did you really have to say that?”

“Don’t hiss at me like that.” Emily shook her head at him angrily.

“You aren’t my boss, I can talk to you however I like.” Spencer growled. “You had no right to bring that up in front of everyone.”

“I’m your friend and I’m worried about you.” She shrugged.

“You had no right to mention it.” He repeated. “What happened to me is nobody's business but my own. So stay the fuck out of it.”

“Spencer!” Garcia gasped. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m not the same person I was.” He grunted. “Look I didn’t want this, I don’t want to fight. I just need to say goodbye.”

Silence flooded over them all again, the impending end was heavy in the air. None wanted to speak, none wanted to bring this to its closure. So Spencer spoke again.

“You’ve all been such a huge part of my life and I love you all from the bottom of my heart.” He wasn’t entirely sure he meant to look at Luke but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. “You meant the whole world to me, I wouldn’t change a single second of what we had. But I have to move on, I have to heal. I’m sorry this has to be the end but it’s the only way.”

If anyone else noticed Spencer was talking solely to Luke, no one mentioned as much. But Luke knew, and he gave a soft nod as his vision blurred with tears.

“We, uh, we love you too man.” Luke replied. “You’ll always be a big part of my heart - our hearts I mean.”

The others sent their kind words Spencer’s way but he was still staring at Luke and Luke at him, eventually they fell quiet and Spencer forced his eyes off of his ex.

“Uh, bye then I guess.” Spencer shrugged.

“Bye kid, stay safe out there.” Rossi nodded at him.

“Bye Reid,” Tara smiled sadly.

“Oh I hate goodbyes!” Penelope was crying now. “Love you boy wonder, goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Spence.” JJ wiped her own eyes.

“We’ll always be here if you ever change your mind.” Emily added.

When he looked back at the space Luke had previously been occupying, it was empty. Luke was gone.

Spencer swallowed, trying to hide his upset at the fact Luke had fled in such a way before he’d technically gotten to say goodbye to him.

Before he could show how much it hurt he ended the call and sighed heavily. Before he got back up he went through their numbers one by one and blocked them before deleting their numbers. But just as he was about to do the same to Luke’s contact information, a text appeared on his screen.

📲 Luke Alvez: I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye. I really do wish you all the best but I just can’t let myself believe this is really over. I will always love you, Spencer Reid.

Spencer felt his chest tighten as he read over the words a few times. And then he blocked Luke’s number, forgetting to delete it like the others. Perhaps it had been subconscious, or perhaps he’d deliberately kept it, he wasn’t sure.

Either way he had removed them from his life so he could take this step forward without putting you in danger.

***

Two days later Spencer’s ranch was up for sale with a local realtor but the two of you didn’t have the luxury in sticking around and waiting for it to sell.

He’d managed to get another nearby rancher to take on his cattle and, somewhat reluctantly on his part, Wilbur and Franklin too. Although he didn’t have as strong of a connection with them as he did with Willow, he was going to miss his two stallions a great deal.

Spencer had purchased a horse trailer which could be hooked up to the back of your car for Rusty and Willow and the rest of the backseat and trunk were filled with Spencer’s belongings, which were mostly books.

He sat in the passenger seat while you arranged the last few things on the backseat and checked the trailer was secure, assuring Willow and Rusty with pats on their heads that they were okay.

He stared out at his lodge, the one he’d called home for two years and the For Sale sign stuck in the dirt. He was growing wistful at an alarming rate, feeling his vision blurring with unshed tears.

He’d never made a home here quite like he had in DC but for some reason this was harder to leave behind. He’d loved his apartment in the city, lived there for most of his adult life, but he’d given it up without a second thought.

Perhaps because here on his ranch in Bandera it was the life he’d chosen. DC and the FBI had been thrust upon him by Jason Gideon, not that he minded that and he was grateful for Gideon’s persistence to have him on the team. But it never really left Spencer any room to choose his own path.

With his intelligence he could have done just about anything, he’d thought he might have long ago cured schizophrenia. But Gideon had pursued him, claiming the young genius as his own prized pig for the BAU to show off. Moving to Texas was probably the first thing he’d done for himself his entire life.

Sure, he still wasn’t making any medical breakthroughs or using his brain to help the world. But this life was so simple, something he’d sorely needed after years of chasing criminals. But now instead of chasing them, he was going on the run with one.

Really if he stopped to think about it, it was insane. He’d spent fifteen years protecting and serving, bringing people like you to justice. He should just turn you in, then he could keep his ranch and not have to cut his friends out of his life.

But you had opened up Spencer’s eyes. In meeting you, Spencer finally understood why he’d never made things work with anyone else. Life just made so much sense to him now.

Relationships of any kind for him had always been about compromising pieces of himself. With Ethan he’d become subservient, as was par for the course for a first relationship he was a moldable putty in Ethan’s hands. He said and did what he thought the other man wanted whether or not Spencer himself wanted it too.

With Lila and Ivy the woman he’d had a one night stand with after Maeve’s death and Caleb with whom he’d had a six month booty call with, he’d conceded parts of himself for the sake of casual sex. He’d lessened his own values for the sake of other people. And with Maeve herself he often dumbed himself down to allow her to feel superior.

And then there was Luke, who Spencer didn’t realise until it was over just how compromised he’d let himself become. Luke was traumatised from serving overseas, needed something to focus his mind on to quell his own darkness. Spencer permitted himself to fall into the role of beta, not that it was a hard persona to emulate.

He was for the most part a submissive person, but mostly in part because he’d always been pushed into that mantle. Sometimes he thought it might be nice to have a little control in his own life, in his own decision making but with Luke that was taken away.

He didn’t mind, for the most part. But now he looked back on it there were times where he’d wished he’d been able to make even the simplest choice of what they were having for dinner or what movie to watch.

He didn’t need to be an alpha and honestly he probably wouldn’t even know what to do with that kind of dominance. But Luke coddled him as though he wasn’t able to make his own decisions, handled him with kid gloves as though Spencer was one moment away from breaking at all times.

And that was even before prison.

Even with his friends, his team, Spencer compromised himself for their own happiness and well-being. He slotted into roles that needed filling in their lives rather than forging his own. He was what people needed him to be. He was malleable. He was a hunk of clay just waiting to be sculpted by those around him.

But then he met you and he finally understood what it was like to not have to bend to the will of others, to shape himself around the demands of others.

In moving to Texas and being alone for so long he was able to start forming himself away from the ordinance of the people around him. He started to discover exactly who Spencer Reid was in his most authentic incarnation.

Upon meeting you he did not bend, he did not falter. And he found that someone actually loved him for who he was when he was just himself and not trying to appease or alter himself to be deemed fit.

So he would miss his ranch, no doubt. He would miss his friends despite the fact they barely talked anymore. But the decision to leave with you was an unimaginably easy one. You didn’t love him for the person he could be, you loved him the raw version of him, the real, uncensored Spencer Reid.

The driver’s door opened and you slid in with a smile, rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette between your lips. You turned to him as you started the engine reaching across the centre console and giving his hand a squeeze.

“You ready for this, stud?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not too late to change your mind.”

He waited until you took a drag, exhaling the smoke out of the window before he gripped the back of your head and drew you close for a kiss.

“Y/N,” he spoke once he pulled back, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I have never been more sure about anything in my life. I know things haven’t always gone smoothly for us, I guess we’re both just a little…rusty.” He chuckled and you did too. “But practice makes perfect, right? And I’m fairly certain we’ll figure it out together.”

You smiled brightly at him, taking another drag on the cigarette before putting the car in reverse. Spencer took one last look at the place he’d called home for two years, wistful but excited for what the future held.

You dangled your arm out of the window and with a wink sent his way you spoke in mirth, “Well then cowboy, we better giddy up.”

@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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anonymousewrites · 10 months ago

Text

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eight: To Mogart

Summary: With little luck, Marc and (Y/N) bump into Layla, who has a solution to finding their own clue to Ammit's tomb.

Marc and (Y/N) walked through the marketplace of Cairo as (Y/N) kept an eye out for possible people to talk to. They had seen a lot of black-market dealings in their time, and that meant they had seen a lot of black-market dealers.

“Do you recognize anyone?” asked Marc.

“Not yet,” said (Y/N). “But it’s possible new fronts and new workers could be a part of the scene. If I don’t recognize them, it’s my fault.”

“You’re doing the best you can, kid,” said Marc. “And I can’t do better.”

(Y/N) glanced at him, unsure of how to react—still confused in interactions. They opted to nod curtly.

“…About what Harrow said,” said Marc. “Are you alright?”

Pouring from him, the words couldn’t be held back. Marc had seen (Y/N)’s reactions to Harrow’s words and accusations, and he didn’t like it. They were a kid. They were working harder for what was right than most adults did. They were good. They didn’t deserve to be looked down on or hurt by Harrow.

Did I deserve to be hurt?

Banishing the thought, Marc looked at (Y/N) as their eyes flicked to the ground before raising again.

“He didn’t lie,” said (Y/N). “My parents died. I am a young Avatar.” They furrowed their brow. “But…I don’t understand why that meant my words could be dismissed. I told the truth, but no one listened.”

“None of the gods are fair,” said Marc. His hand rose to pat (Y/N)’s shoulder (affectionately), but he forced it back down. “You did the right thing, though. They’re the ones who were stupid enough to listen more to Harrow.”

“Thanks,” said (Y/N) quietly, pulling the cuffs of their jacket.

“How have you guys not gotten anywhere with this whole mission?”

As a new voice entered the conversation, Marc and (Y/N) whirled. Layla stared at them, hands on her hips.

“You’re so close, but I guess experience doesn’t make up for being Egyptian and really knowing this place,” said Layla, smirking.

“Layla, what the hell are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here,” said Marc.

“Why? Because my name pisses off a few people in Cairo?” said Layla.

“Well, that could cause a problem,” pointed out (Y/N).

Perfectly unconcerned, Layla shrugged. “Who cares?”

“It’s not the locals I’m worried about,” said Marc.

Layla rolled her eyes. “Just come with me. I’ll help you find what you need.”

“We have been pretty slow,” said (Y/N). “Harrow’s already on the track of Ammit’s tomb.”

Marc’s jaw clenched, but he nodded.

“Perfect! Follow me,” said Layla.

That evening, Layla, Marc, and (Y/N) ended up on a boat filled with a family playing music and dancing with one another. Lively, upbeat melodies filled the air, and (Y/N) smiled as they watched, enchanted, as the family celebrated being together as one. As the sun dipped in the east, fiery light danced across the waves as the boat skimmed over the river.

“So, what exactly are we gonna do here? What’s the plan?” asked Marc.

Layla raised a brow. “Oh. It’s not pleasant being left in the dark, is it?”

Marc’s jaw clenched. “Okay.”

This is one way to ruin the happy family moment, thought (Y/N), sighing.

“I get that you’re not happy about me leaving so quickly and coming to Cairo,” said Marc. “I understand.”

“Wait. Is that your apology?” Layla scoffed. “That’s good. That’s really good.”

(Y/N) didn’t need their ability to know she was lying and being sarcastic.

“Just so we can get through tonight, maybe let’s just give our shit a rest for a moment and just try to strategize before we get to…” Actually unsure, Marc trailed off.

“Mogart’s,” finished Layla.

“Mogart’s?” repeated Marc.

(Y/N) had heard of him—an antiquities “collector” who was really just a thief and a black-market dealer.

“Just so you know, I’m not here to help you,” said Layla sharply to Marc. “I’m here for me and for everyone else who would die if Harrow succeeds.” Gesturing to (Y/N), she continued, “And you’re bringing a kid to a fight, so I have every right to take charge.”

(Y/N) blinked, and they pulled on their sleeves. First Marc, now Layla. Two adults seemed…concerned, or something like that, about them. Due to the unfamiliarity of the feeling, (Y/N) found themself uncomfortable.

Marc nodded stiffly. “Copy that.”

“Got it,” said (Y/N), spilling the words out quickly.

“Good,” said Layla.

Marc swallowed. “But I am sorry. For whatever that’s worth.”

Truth. (Y/N) felt it in their bones. They smiled.

Clearing his throat, Marc brushed aside his vulnerability. “So, this Mogart guy. He’s really gonna have his sarcophagus?”

“Yes. I asked around,” said Layla. “Mogart’s collection is prime gossip for those of us who deal in antiquities.”

Abruptly, the music grew louder, and the three at the end of the boat looked back at the others. They were dancing and laughing, in their own world of fun, outside of Marc, Layla, and (Y/N)’s more complicated one.

Marc smiled and gazed at Layla. “I haven’t heard that sound since…” His eyes softened. “Since our wedding.”

Layla couldn’t help a smile in return. Feeling it, however, she cleared her throat and looked at (Y/N). She escaped from sharing vulnerability. “(Y/N), we’ll be heading downriver for a while longer. You should take a rest.”

“I can keep going,” said (Y/N).

Layla raised a brow, and (Y/N)’s heart clenched as they remembered how their mom used to affectionately scold them, making them feel guided and protected. “Uh-huh. You can, but that doesn’t mean you should. Rest. Unlike Marc, I’m not running off anytime soon.”

“…Alright.”

Layla spoke no lies, and, although able to continue, (Y/N) was tired. From running around Cairo to fighting to channeling Ma’at to pleading with the gods for them to listen, (Y/N) had gone through about as much any person could take without crashing. They lay down on the bench, closed their eyes, and drifted off into blissful silence as the sounds of a joyful family swam around them hauntingly.

“They shouldn’t be here,” said Layla, looking at (Y/N). She wanted them to rest, yes, but she had also wanted to talk to Marc about bringing a child into danger.

“They’re an Avatar. Harrow knows who they are. They’re in more danger alone than they are with me. Us,” said Marc.

Layla remained unimpressed. “They’re more in danger with you.”

Clenching his jaw, Marc looked away. How was he supposed to answer? Layla was right. Around him, (Y/N) was in danger. Yes, they were an Avatar, but they had still been unseen, working in the shadows, until Marc got involved with Harrow and exposed them in the Alps with Steven.

It was his fault they were in danger. Marc couldn’t just leave them. He had failed to protect others he led into danger. He couldn’t fail to protect (Y/N). They were too much like him. Like Randall.

Marc wanted them to turn out better than he had.

“Maybe. But who else cares about that other than us?” said Marc.

Layla looked at the sleeping teen. She nodded shortly. Who else was there to care about (Y/N)?

“(Y/N).”

Sitting up, (Y/N) opened their eyes as they heard Marc speak to them. “What?”

“We’re here,” said Marc.

(Y/N) looked around. The boat was docking in front of a small carnival with glass, pyramidal structures behind a dirt track for horses. Marc, Layla, and (Y/N) disembarked and approached the grass lawn.

“This guy’s got a lot of friends,” said Marc.

“Yeah, and a lot with guns,” said Layla.

“What else did we expect?” said (Y/N).

Marc glanced around, and his eyes landed on a small motorboat approaching the pier. They had no lights and were looking around suspiciously.

“What is it?” asked (Y/N), seeing Marc’s body-language tense.

“Harrow’s men keeping tabs?” wondered Layla, narrowing her eyes.

“I don’t know. Could be,” said Marc warily.

“Let’s go,” said Layla, turning towards the carnival. They needed to focus and get this done. The longer they waited, the closer to Ammit Harrow got. “Remember, Marc, your name is Rufino Estrada. (Y/N), your name is Mariana Estrada.”

Like the Mariana Trench? (Y/N) was confused but nodded.

“Right,” said Marc.

“We just got back from a family vacation in the Maldives,” said Layla.

(Y/N) flinched at the mention of family. The last time they had one…they lost everything. Still, part of them ached at the word, and they sat up straighter.

“These are strange details to give them,” said Marc.

“I’d tell them you worked at a gift shop and they were some random kid, but they’d never believe me, would they?” said Layla pointedly.

The three approached the horse track, and a security guard approached.

“Bek,” greeted Layla.

“Layla,” said Bek, glancing at Marc and (Y/N).

“It’s been a while. Good to see you,” said Layla.

Bek nodded to her. “Right this way.”

“Thank you,” said Layla, smiling.

“He’s looking forward to seeing her,” said Bek as he guided them closer to the horse ring. “After Madripoor, I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about.”

Madripoor did have quite a few issues recently, thought (Y/N), reminiscing on the super-soldier serum reproduction and gunbattle that had gone down with, reportedly, Avengers.

“Excuse me for one moment,” said Bek. “Mr. Mogart will be with you shortly.”

He walked away, and Layla, Marc, and (Y/N) were left watching the men ride horses with lances.

“So, what? This joker just puts on El-Mermah games in his backyard, for fun?” said Marc, unimpressed.

“No, he gets private lessons by the best in his backyard,” said Layla.

“Using money from trading what doesn’t belong to him,” murmured (Y/N).

Bek approached one man, Mogart, and he descended from his horse. Bek placed a red robe around his shoulders, and Mogart smiled at the group across the track.

“I like the robe,” muttered Marc.

Lie. But (Y/N) didn’t need to be told that.

“Layla,” called Mogart. “Come in.” He walked towards them, and the three came onto the track. “Such a delight to see you.”

“You, too,” said Layla.

Mogart took her hand and kissed the back. “How have you been?”

“Good. Thank you for having us over on such short notice,” said Layla.

“Oh, please. I hope you realize you need no excuse to drop by,” said Mogart.

Ignoring us to flirt with Layla and annoy Marc. Is this a man thing? thought (Y/N).

Layla patted Marc’s shoulder and smiled at (Y/N). “This is my husband, Rufino, and my step-kid, Mariana.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Marc stiffly, sticking out his hand.

“Pleasure,” said Mogart, refusing to shake it a moment before taking it to show who was in charge (again, men). He nodded to (Y/N). “Cute kid.”

�� (Y/N) avoided eye-contact and nodded.

“Come, follow me. I’ll show you my collection,” said Mogart, turning towards the pyramidal structures. “I hope you understand, though, that this is more than a collection for me. Preserving history is a responsibility I take very seriously.”

Marc gave (Y/N) a pointed look to not say anything since they clearly thought differently about his habits and was about to speak way too honestly.

“A self-appointed responsibility that you alone were able to enjoy, no?” Unfortunately, Marc had forgotten to make sure Layla wouldn’t say anything.

“Well, as I prefer to see it as a philanthropic effort at preservation,” said Mogart. “Now, if I may ask, why such interest in Senfu in particular?”

“Oh, actually, our purchases—”

“I’m sorry.” Mogart interrupted Layla and looked at Marc and (Y/N). “I’d like to hear from your husband or stepchild, if you don’t mind.”

Marc and Mogart stared at each other evenly, and Mogart crossed his arms.

“I think…I would just love to take a look,” said Marc, not the best lie by a long shot.

“I like learning about Egyptian history,” said (Y/N). “And this is a great opportunity.” Not a lie at all, both were true facts. However, (Y/N) wouldn’t be learning about history in general but in Ammit.

Mogart looked between them and nodded. Gesturing to the pyramid behind him, he said, “Feel free.”

“Great,” said Layla, smiling. She took his and (Y/N)’s arms and walked into the pyramid. Quietly, she whispered, “Marc, just let Steven out before you blow this.”

“Not a chance.” Marc looked at the sarcophagus. “Alright, what do you see?”

“The burial practices are in line with the Studenwachen texts,” said (Y/N).

“The what?” said Marc.

“You know those?” asked Layla.

“Ma’at makes sure I know a lot about Egyptian history,” said (Y/N). And my parents taught me before her. “The sarcophagus is legit, but all I see is the literature to guide the dead. I don’t see a location for Ammit’s tomb.”

“Because the information has to be unlocked.” Steven spoke, and (Y/N) and Marc glanced up to the reflection in the glass ceiling. “It’s coded.”

“Okay, um…” Marc took a deep breath. “Will you give me a minute? I gotta talk to Steven. Just keep Mogart occupied, and don’t let (Y/N) speak, they can’t lie.”

Layla looked at (Y/N) in confusion.

“I really can’t,” said (Y/N) honestly.

Taking a deep breath, Layla nodded. “Come on.” They stepped out of the glass pyramid and left Marc and Steven to figure out the mystery of Senfu’s sarcophagus.

Layla smiled at Bek and Mogart. “He just needs a couple minutes in there alone ‘cause…yeah. He is…” She looked back and winced. Marc was clearly speaking inside the pyramid. “He’s praying.”

Marc and Steven’s talk isn’t going well, thought (Y/N), frowning worriedly.

“Is he reaching into the sarcophagus?” said Mogart, frowning.

“I’m sure he isn’t,” said Layla, but Marc was, guided by Steven.

“Bek,” said Mogart, narrowing his eyes.

Bek walked towards the pyramid, and with his back turned, Marc didn’t see him coming. Bek touched his arm.

“Hey, what are you—”

On instinct, Marc whirled, grabbed Bek’s gun with the skill a common man shouldn’t have, and pointed it at the mercenary. Instantly, two other guards pulled out their guns and pointed at Marc, Layla, and (Y/N), ready at any instant to shoot any of them.

“Marc. Don’t,” said Layla, glancing at the guards warily.

“Shit.” Marc looked between Layla, (Y/N), and the guns trained on them.

“Marc…” said (Y/N), swallowing, unsure.

Marc’s eyes met theirs, and he let his grip on the gun loosen, handing it back to Bek and holding his hands up.

They were trapped.

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