#Like please for the love of god grow some self awareness I am BEGGING YOU.

[rubberduckyrye]

I just looked in the Gonta tag and saw someone making a post about how if they see people white washing characters of color they're going to go feral--which is so fair. Valid of them really.

Except. Gonta is on that list.

Gonta.

You know, the "primitive wild man who is treated like a fucking idiot/toddler by the rest of the cast and even worse so by the fandom"? You know, Gonta, the character everyone treats like he's ignorant and can't have Complicated Thoughts Ever? Gonta, the character who has a wild child backstory, wears a loin cloth for underwear, ectect. You know. That Gonta?

Okay like. You see why this is fucking racist. You see why this is racist, right? Gonta is like, sun kissed tan at max. He is not "dark skinned" and to be frank if he was we'd have to add on fucking extreme forms of racism to the bigotry of not just the writing, but to the fandom as well.

Anyway.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 10 thoughts

after yesterday's trees that ate people, i am curious to see where we are going. however, i have heard that this episode and the 2 after it are very good, so i am excited to see where this takes us.

post-episode review: another contender for my (now crowded) best episodes of all time list! but take us back to yesterday...

let's read the description here... oh! this happens in a coastal town in maine? are we going to see BEACH mulder and scully? oh! this is giving me many ideas!

and yes, the description also mentions a girl and a doll i assume to be evil, but hey! maine! salt water taffy! seashells! lobsters! moose! blueberries! a quaint little motel!

ah, can you picture it? oh, do i need to write some sort of vacation fic? has this seed been planted? and will it continue to grow?

let us find out!

this girl (polly) has a creepy doll. she is glaring at her mother (melissa). she must not want to go shopping. don’t make eye contact, old lady who walks by them. that child has an evil spirit. i can tell. 

“i don’t like this store, mommy” <- so does she like other stores? other grocery stores? can she sense something here that displeases her? her mother clarifies that they will only be a minute 

ohhhh, when she says she wants to go home, the doll’s eyes open. don’t care for that. AND THE DOLL TALKS?? 

poor mom sees visions of the butcher stabbing himself in the eye?? and the cart’s wheels go wild!!!

“please, don’t do this to mommy”, melissa begs her child <- so she KNOWS that her daughter and/or the doll are somehow responsible for all this??? GIRL!!! she just needs to eat!! they haven’t invented doordash yet!! how will polly get her food?? does she have to go to a different, polly and doll approved, grocery store?? or must they simply starve??

ohhh OH THIS WOMAN IS CLAWING OUT HER EYES??? WHAT IS WITH THE EYES!? 

EVERYONE IS CLAWING OUT THEIR EYES!!!! AUGH AUGH AUGH WHAT THE FUCK, POLLY????? 

the butcher (dave) tries to call 911- somehow he is able to resist the call to scratch- but the fucking DOLL IS ON THE OTHER LINE???

girl. that doll needs to be thrown in the ocean NOW. you can’t be doing this to my boy dave. 

NOOOO HE REALLY DOES STAB HIMSELF IN THE EYE 💔

bleurgh. bleeeugh. pour one out for dave.

and to think! i was just pondering saltwater taffy and the dynamics of coastal msr!!

ohhh, but this little town is so cute!!!! is scully on vacation???

OHHH SHE’S GETTING GAS FOR HER FANCY CAR IN A MAINE T SHIRT AND SUNGLASSES <3 ohhh…. ohhhhh… vacation scully… i am holding her so gently

(she must have been so excited to get that silly little souvenir shirt if she had it on before she even got there... and i love that for her)

who calls her at this hour? (as if we need to ask!)

“mulder, i thought we had an agreement. we were both going to take the weekend off” (he is fully in his office playing around with his chair) LMAOOOO

this man physically cannot relax. “right, right, right, i know. but i-i-i just received some information about-about a case” <- at least he seems self-conscious about the fact that he is breaking their agreement

AWW, SHE JUST WANTS TO CHILL 

“you didn’t rent a convertible, did you?” “why?” “are you aware of the statistics of decapitation?” <- grown ass man playing on a chair when he says this, btw. please worry about yourself.

(it is so funny how badly he wanted to hear her voice but cannot bring himself to talk about normal human conversation topics, such as the vacation she is about to embark upon)

LMAO SHE INFORMS HIM THAT SHE IS HANGING UP LIKE HE IS A SMALL CHILD!!! AND HE SEEMS SURPRISED WHEN SHE DOES

aww, the poor man is just a loser!

(reading these notes back for editing purposes and i am STILL laughing. god, he's such a nerd.

he's thinking, "hey, i know we promised to not talk about work for 2 whole days, but i missed you. do you want to talk about work? please don't get decapitated, honey. oh man, she hung up on me :("

meanwhile, she's thinking "for the love of god. just let me have a nice vacation. yes, mulder, you want to solve a mystery, but i need a break. no, i won't get my head cut off. okay, i'm saying goodbye now. GOODBYE.")

she rolls off in her convertible. which is a mustang, btw. serve. and melissa and polly nearly run her over. she looks pissed at their erratic driving.

woah! she is at the store where the eyeball gouging just took place. she finds all of the grocery store customers with blood on their faces!!!! but luckily, most seem to have intact eyeballs.

NOOO, DAVE THE BUTCHER MIGHT BE DEAD and his eyeball is very much not intact

damn. so much for a chill vacation.

(author's note: it's so funny to me how scully was not going to let this stop her from chilling. she was going to get right back to the beach after watching a grocery store full of people claw at their own eyeballs. me, i would have been calling the whole trip off and heading home after seeing such a horrible sight. her need to relax after so many years of alien nonsense is unmatched. not even demon doll could come between this queen and her vacation)

cutscene to mulder in his office, where a distinct moaning noise is coming from his TV. oh god. and he’s sitting there with sunflower seeds. LMAO?? he’s just sitting and watching.... this. not even doing anything but snacking. 

NOOOO SHE CALLS AND HEARS IT 💔 “what are you watching, mulder?” OH GOD WHAT IS HE GONNA SAY?

he claims to be watching “the deadliest swarms” <- utterly gagged at that man watching porn while just sitting in his office. stone-faced. and then lying about it. what does this say about his character?

BUT IT REALLY WAS DEADLIEST SWARMS LMAOOOO THE MAN AND WOMAN MOANING HAVE BEES IN THEIR FUCKING EYES I’M CRYINGGGGG

my asexual king. i should have never doubted you.

(author's note: still losing my mind at this as i edit, btw. i was fully convinced that mulder brought porn to his office to watch at work on the weekend, and i was thinking "well, it's not the STRANGEST thing he's done" but no. he's at work on the weekends to watch bugs sting people in the eyeballs. for research purposes. god. what a guy. i wish i could have a glimpse into if scully believed his statement or not. have they talked about this TV program before? is this what he does with his very limited time off?)

“it sounds to me like that’s witchcraft or maybe some sorcery that you’re looking for there”, he comments. “no, i don’t think it’s witchcraft, mulder, or sorcery” (said while the local policemen look on in shock at her saying those words) LMAOOO

“yeah, well, maybe you don’t know what you’re looking for”

“like evidence of conjury or the black arts, or shamanism, divination, wicca, or any kind of pagan or neo-pagan practice? charms, cards, familiars, bloodstones or hex signs, or any of the ritual tableaux associated with the occult, santeria, vodoun, macumba, or any high or low magic?” <- LMAO she said i’ve been taking notes on your theories, boy

“scully?” “yes?” “marry me” “i was hoping for something a little more helpful” <- LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO GOD. the way her face doesn’t even change while his looks SO FUCKING SERIOUS. he's in awe of her. hold on. i had to rewatch that like three times. i'm absolutely HOWLING over here.

and to be fair, had she said that string of words to me on the phone as well, i would have reacted in the same way! i cannot fault him there.

while watching the footage of what went down at the grocery store, she notices that melissa is the only one who seems unaffected. the police seem to not believe that means anything until she politely points out that maybe they should talk to melissa about the whole situation, and then she tries to get tf out of there LMAOOO she is not going to let ANYTHING interrupt vacation time!!!!

“people here say she’s a witch” “well, that’s not the first time for that accusation in these parts” <- LMAO GET HIM AGAIN FOR ME

ohhhh, the cop says that melissa was “carrying on” with dave the butcher… who is now dead… well! that is deeply suspicious!!!

a policeman named buddy is trying to call melissa while polly and the doll listen to some old timey music. polly COMMANDS her to hang up. i fear the consequences for what will happen if melissa continues her chat.

nooooo :( buddy the cop tells melissa that dave is dead… but the doll is speaking now, because polly is being ignored!!! melissa says he can’t come here, but buddy insists on coming. 

so, again, it seems melissa knows that the doll is committing the crimes….

scully arrives with the other cop, named jack, to melissa and polly's house. scully is in her killer outfit of: blazer, maine t shirt, and sunglasses. looking like a million bucks. she proceeds to do the cop's job better than he does when she notices the backdoor is wide open. 

feels so strange to see scully in jeans. i make note of this special occasion

ohhh, she’s in the little girl’s room which could be sensitive for her... but she seems fine. 

(author's note: i keep getting jarred by how much they are NOT acknowledging the whole emily plotline... here i was thinking that this child's room would bring scully to tears and she's just looking around, observing as always... the writers truly did not give a damn)

lore reveal: melissa’s husband died in a boating accident… or did he…?

allegedly, polly is autistic, and the daycare lady slapped her across the face after a tantrum!!! what!! you can’t do this!! scully seems shocked to hear of the slapping (but she keeps it very professional, as she always does) and then MORE shocked to hear that the daycare lady was knocked on the ground. by the little girl. but the cop said she never touched her.

yes, i am sure that the ghost doll can do impossible things, even attacking old ladies. the daycare lady got fired for the slapping (well, yes!) and the people call melissa a witch as a result (um... not her fault?)

(why are there so many people named melissa in this show? could we not get a little creative? did the writers only know of 3 or 4 names? crack open a yearbook or one of those baby names books that writers use, damn!)

omg, so the tea is that dave had a WIFE, but was still trying to get with melissa!!! but melissa did not want him like that. a queen who stays in her lane.

scully notices that the windows are all nailed shut. maybe melissa nailed the windows in because she was afraid of something getting out…? like an evil ghost doll?

buddy gives the girl polly some ice cream as he tries to question melissa in this restaurant. buddy offers to give melissa some money so she can get away. is this, like, a kindness thing? oh no, he’s in love with her, seems like. says he missed his first chance around. well. i guess we can never have a man doing the right thing out of sheer selflessness. this is TV, after all.

she says she has seen things… meanwhile polly is DEMANDING more cherries from the ice cream lady. (and polly has strange taste. i like those cherries too, but they're very strong; one or two will do the job)

melissa tells buddy that she saw dave dead before he died! and it wasn’t the first time!!! she saw her husband before he died, too! buddy seems to take this news better than expected.

ohhh, this lady at the ice cream counter says polly has to ask her mom for money to buy more cherries… i assume she does not have much longer to live

the doll opens its eyes IN THE RESTAURANT, and melissa says it’s time to go, knowing what is about to go down. buddy tries to give her a key to a place they used to go hunting, but NOOOOOO, the ice cream lady’s head is stuck in the ice cream machine!!!!!!!

melissa takes polly and the doll and they book it.

this is an injustice to food service professionals everywhere.

the other cop guy- the one named named jack- is visiting jane, the old lady from the very beginning of the episode who briefly made eye contact with polly. and scully is here too!!

okay, so jane immediately launches into saying that melissa is from a line of witches. cool, cool. this must be the lady who ran the daycare. scully looks amused as she slams the door in their faces and remarks on “new england hospitality” lmaooo

(she claims she's heard about it all her life, but never experienced it- is this her first journey to new england? like, recreationally, and not for work? omg! the cali girl is being exposed to the northeast! culture shock! she is learning the ways of mulder and his people!)

ah yes, we see as they leave that the sign on the door of jane’s house shows it’s the daycare. well, FORMER daycare.

scully wants to know if this lineage of witches thing is really all talk. and the policeman jack cannot figure out why he would want to bring melissa in. LMAO despite him being entirely incompetent at his job, scully does NOT WANT TO HELP I’M CRYING. she is PROTECTING HER PEACE!!!

melissa and polly pull up to the cabin buddy gave them the key to. ohhh, she doesn’t have any gear… and it’s winter up here. girl! how will they eat!!

polly wants her BED and her RECORDS, and the doll is AWAKE. so now melissa’s racing home after seeing a dead jane in her rear window!!!

back at her home, the records are going off… jane is here, for some reason, perhaps to investigate the loud noises despite there being no one home... and when she takes off the record off the player…. NOOOO, NOT HER STABBING HERSELF WITH THE BROKEN RECORD!!!!!!!!!!!!

scully is taking a nice bubble bath, trying to relax… with some classical music…. but the phone is ringing!!! she slams the door with her foot LMAO and awww she gets out and wraps her hair in a towel <3 i love relaxed scully <3

wait, hold on, what is this book next to the phone…? allow me to pause. “affirmation for women who do too much” by adrianna carrillo… now hold on, i need to look into this… 

okay, so it doesn’t seem to be a real book, but instead a play on “meditations for women who do too much”, which has a very similar book cover and was published in the 90's. huh. the more you know! i wonder if copyright laws prevented the prop team from having the real thing.

we all know that she is, in fact, a woman who does too much. so i am glad she is affirming herself.

anyway, what was going on? yes, evil doll. there's a message on the phone. she does not play it. SHE DOES TOO MUCH ALREADY!!!!

AND the policeman jack is at her door!!! noooooo, she cannot get a break!!

they find jane dead with the record player…. they're investigating at the crime scene when the cop gets a call and says "it's for you"

LMAOOO, HOW DID MULDER FIND THE POLICEMAN’S NUMBER, I’M CRYING???

(AND he says he called the hotel!! how did he find the hotel room's number?? he is a sleuth)

“hey, morning, sunshine!” he says happily (loud thumping over the phone) BAHAHA WHAT IS GOING ONNN?

he was worried about her!!! LMAOOOOO HE SAYS THEY’RE DOING CONSTRUCTION RIGHT OUTSIDE HIS WINDOW, BUT HE WAS REALLY JUST BOUNCING HIS BASKETBALL BAHAHAA

awwww, he really WAS worried... he gets separation anxiety. that damn ball of his gets good use when he is nervous!!

omg… we finally get a decent look at his wall art while he is standing there in his underwear…. it’s just houses. sort of abstract, colorful, houses. with heavy lines. hmm. i will make assumptions on his character based on this.

BAHAHA AND MULDER THINKS THERE’S A SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION FOR HER CASE oh my gosh he thinks it’s dancing sickness KING, SHE KNOWS WHAT THAT IS!!!

why is the only thing this man has in his fridge a bottle of orange juice? and it is presumably expired, because he makes an awful face when he takes a sip, and then we see that it says “oct 97” on the carton, which i take it is not. so is this set in 98? early 98? since we just passed chrismas?

god. how has he stayed alive this long? is there some sort of cafeteria at the FBI he sustains himself with?

LMAO HE SPITS THE JUICE BACK OUT AND SHE HANGS TF UP BAHAHAAA

she has had enough!! she called this guy jack and said maybe we need to keep our minds open to extreme possibilities (gasp!) LMAOOO “okay, but aren’t you on vacation?” <- SHE NEEDS A RAISE!! MAYBE IF YOU COULD DO YOUR JOB, JACK, SHE COULD TAKE A VACATION FOR REAL!!

now polly and the doll are back at home, and OH, the doll is breathing as the two sleep next to each other. this is not something that i care for. melissa is trying to do something to stop the doll's reign of terror, but it opens its eyes and catches her…. so she cries downstairs. NO! not a dead buddy vision!!!!

LMAOOO meanwhile scully is utterly gagged at the size of this lobster she’s splitting with jack: “that looks like something out of jules verne. we’re supposed to eat that?” <- SHE’S SUCH A NERD I’M CRYINGGGG

she really is experiencing new england culture shock and it is hilarious

she’s trying to learn about melissa’s husband’s death as jack manhandles this lobster. the boat he died on is out the window…

this damn doll keeps replaying the hokey pokey over and over again. count your days, demon!!!

ohhh, buddy is here at melissa's place to take her into the station!!! and he sees the doll open her doll eyes….

scully is trying to figure out wtf went down the night melissa’s husband died, as she now talks to this grizzled old sailor who was there with him on that fateful evening

“i told my story to the chief”, he says; “people’s story’s change”, she answers <- ohhhh yeah, she IS a noir detective, yes ma’am!

omg, melissa's husband/polly's dad found that freaky ass doll in the ocean!!! it was the night before polly's birthday, so he thought it was a gift from the sea!! and he heard the doll talking…. and then the old grizzled fisherman found melissa’s husband with the HOOK THROUGH HIS SKULL BLEUGGHHH?

(this episode was funny but the gore was SHEESH)

ohhh, and he put together that the doll was involved when he saw them in the store that morning

(her phone rings) “oh hey, i thought you weren’t answering your cell phone” he’s TWIRLING the literal phone line while he calls her i’m CRYING this man is down TERRIBLE

OHHH HE IS TRYING TO FIND ANOTHER SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION WHEN SHE ASKS IF THERE ARE ANY REFERENCES IN OCCULT LITERATURE TO EVIL DOLLS LMAOOOO

he starts explaining and then she says that she “was just curious”, probably because his heart would be broken if he knew she found a haunted doll without him. turns out there is quite a history of them in new england!

“i would suggest that you check the back of the doll for a-a plastic ring with a string on it” (she rolls her eyes and hangs up) 

LMAOOOOOO STOP my face hurts from smiling at this episode. why is he like that!

poor melissa is crying, making popcorn at the stove for the screaming polly, while BUDDY IS DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!!!! NO MELISSA!!

she hammers the windows and doors shut even more…. but the doll cannot stand the pounding!!! and melissa sees herself dead in the window!!!! nooo!

scully and jack roll up just in time to either save the day or watch it get much, much worse. 

omfg is melissa gonna set the whole house on fire?????? but she can’t get a match to light!!!! the doll keeps blowing it out!!!

from outside the house, scully sees buddy dead on the floor!!!! and the doll won’t let melissa grab a knife!!!! but the demon doll somehow opens up the locked cabinet and gets the hammer!!!!

scully is absolutely SLAMMING herself into that door to open it, but NOOOO the doll says “i don’t like you anymore” and makes melissa take the hammer and JAM IT IN HER OWN FACE?!?!?!?!?!?

scully and jack finally break in!! scully takes the doll away from polly despite her many refusals and PUTS IT IN THE MICROWAVE?? YAAAS THE DEMON CATCHES FIRE!!!!!!!!! scully is very dramatically watching that doll burn….

(this had me absolutely CRYING. she had no time for science that day. she was on vacation. if there is going to be an evil demon doll while she is off the clock, she is going to throw that mfer in the microwave and watch it go up in flames. extreme possibilities are allowed, but ONLY when it is not her duty to save the world.)

((also laughing that the doll was able to put out matches and throw knives and make people gouge out their eyes, but scully putting her in the microwave was so unpredictable this demon had zero defense against it. that, or her catholic powers simply neutralized the evil presence, rendering the doll immobile in her godly hands. i choose to imagine it is a combination of both))

while mulder is sharpening a ton of pencils and putting them in rows back in the office LMAOOOO

scully finally returns to the basement office! she tells mulder she wants to send his famous wall poster to "some guy named jack"!!! he seems unbothered by this, whereas i was shocked! and then she denies doing any work on the case while up there, saying she was just on vacation. ah, if only we could have seen her frolicking on the beach after those incidents.

what did mulder get up to while she was away? “oh god, i mean, it’s amazing what i can accomplish without incessant meddling or questioning into everything i do” (pencils begin to fall on him from the ceiling, as we pan up and see like, 40 pencils launched up there) LMAOOO

“there’s got to be an explanation” “some things are better left unexplained” fair enough

a cutscene back to maine... NOOOO, another fisherman hauls out the haunted doll while the hokey pokey ominously plays in the background 💔

i hope he promptly tossed her back into the watery grave. let her torment some fish instead.

so, final thoughts: scully putting the doll in the microwave… she really is THE final girl, huh?

this episode was soooo silly. i loved it. mulder had no brain cells. scully took a bath and made a friend who she wants to send a poster to. she is gagged by lobster. lmaoooooooo mulder missed her SO bad, he was trying to do science to impress her, bahaha. and she had her little maine shirt on!!! the role reversal of him being the science-centered one because he wants to talk to her that badly, and her being the one willing to deal with demons for a few days also killed me.

def going on the list of faves.

i think it is so funny that she was so focused on relaxing for once in her life that she truly did not give a single fuck if that doll was possessed or not. normally she would be scrambling for explanations, and today she simply did not have the time. she wanted to take a nice bubble bath, listen to orchestral music, read her little book, and if a demon was going to get in the way of that, then she would simply stop it and move along with her roadtrip. and i think that is beautiful.

and to answer my earlier question: YES, i still want a REAL joint msr vacation fic with REAL relaxation and REAL saltwater taffy and splashing and no murder dolls, but maybe like ONE ghost tour because new england is old and spooky, and then mulder can ask if they want to get married for real and they can go hiking or some other nerd activity and be happy forever and always <3 the end!

[lavendermin]

from sea of flowers, garden of eternity | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 2k

genre | pwp, fluff, light angst, brief smut

note | glaze lily spirit reader, you are also in perpetual pain I’m sorry

“Xiao…” he hears your voice meekly call.

The adeptus is already on his feet before you can fully enter the room, his eyes quickly focused on you. He scans your body language diligently, looking for signs of pain or discomfort. It’s become a routine by now.

“Are you…?” His voice trails off when you shake your head apologetically. The slight strain in your smile doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m alright for now. The pains haven’t started yet. I think I’m set for another few hours, a day if I’m lucky,” you reassure him. “I just— wanted to check on you.”

Xiao gives you a blank look, one you recognize as confusion. “Check… on me…?”

“Just to see how you’re doing,” you clarify with a shy smile. As you make your way to sit on the bed, you gently pat the space next to you.

There’s a slight red upon his cheeks as he chooses to take up your invitation. The bed dips under his weight, and words do not need to be spoken to know both your minds drift briefly to past trysts that took place where you sit.

“I’m heading out to patrol the area in an hour. If you need anything at all, speak my name,” Xiao announces quietly. It’s a brief awkward silence as he rigidly sits next to you—tense almost. You answer him with a simple nod, hands absentmindedly rubbing little circles on your legs to ease the tingles of pain that slowly resurfaced.

Conversation was scarce the past few months you were placed into his watchful guard. The relationship you both harbored was a blurred line you tried not to think about too much for fear of over-complicating it.

And with your entire being, you could say you came to the unfortunate doom of falling in love with him. The emotional distance he kept oftentimes only confused you as much as your own emotions left him puzzled and a little flustered.

He kept you alive. That was the simplicity of the details Xiao was given. Perhaps it was a favor he was doing you, but he diligently carried it out with all the steadfastness of a contract bestowed onto him by the former Lord of Geo.

—

“I’m sure you are aware of the situation near Qingce Village,” Zhongli had brought up upon summoning Xiao several moons after the stirrings of a slumbering god.

Though the situation was previously dire, all was settled—Xiao knew this as a fact, for he was the one that swiftly took care of the aftermath of a dormant god’s power seeping through the earth. So, the battle hadn’t ended then…

“I was careless—“

Zhongli cut him off, carefully setting down his cup in its saucer. “On the contrary, this was in no way able to be foreseen by you. The world has a way of ending and raising new questions, just as easily as it provides answers to those who seek them.”

On the small garden table, Zhongli’s eyes trail to the glaze lily that sits in a small decorative vase. Unlike most, this lone flower is fully bloomed despite the time of day. It glows ever so slightly—weakly almost.

“You are aware that glaze lilies grow in the Qingce area, and there are a few wild outcroppings that shy away from prying eyes,” Zhongli starts.

His gloved finger reaches out to tenderly graze the petals, and at once the flower closes up. The petals take on a dullness, and visibly they start to wilt in small patches.

“The reasons are uncertain, but rumor spread around the village of a wandering ghost that followed the moon aimlessly. A spirit born of glaze lilies appeared after the battle that took place near there. It seems the power seeped deep into cracked earth among the flowerbeds.”

The young adeptus remained quiet, taking in the information. What exactly did this have to do with him, he wondered?

With a hint of apprehension, Xiao asks, “This spirit—has it taken on a malevolent nature?”

Instead of answering straight away, Zhongli wordlessly stands and makes his way back indoors. Xiao obediently follows, curious of the nature of this spirit.

“Nothing of the sort. However, these glaze lilies fell victim to the corruption of your karmic debt and at the same time were nurtured by immense adeptal power. There is a wavering balance that must be kept, for her body is as fragile as a flower’s and cannot withstand the depletion and shifts of adeptal energy.” With graceful steps, Zhongli stops before a door. “No other adeptus has successfully remained compatible with the energy she needs. So far it has only brought excruciating pain for her, and I fear she may die at this rate.”

With a silent nod, Xiao processes this information. His gloved hand is unmoving on the door handle.

“What are the terms of this contract,” Xiao silently asks, amber eyes trained on the door in front of him.

“My time has long passed to give you a new contract, Adeptus Xiao.” Zhongli chuckles fondly at the serious habits of the adeptus before him. “This is a choice I am giving you. It may take centuries for her body to adjust to the adeptal power she now harbors. If she is compatible with you, it is up to you to decide whether you supply her with your adeptal energy, otherwise she may not make it past next week.”

Xiao remains quiet for a brief moment before speaking softly, “Her body is tearing itself apart…”

“Correct.”

There’s something in that fact that stirs feelings Xiao isn’t used to in his chest. He accepts, and the first memory of you that adorns his mind is one that clenches his heart in a way he rarely experiences. The pain that twists and contorts your face as you desperately heave, body seemingly tearing itself apart in a way the naked eye cannot see.

You’re a beautiful tragedy born of moonlight and sweet soil. And in that moment when your eyes meet his, a single tear rolls down your cheek. He cannot fathom the thought of letting your life end as quickly as it began.

The door behind him clicks shut, and he takes your fragile life into his hands.

—

The lights of the house are dim—a subtle golden glow against a comforting darkness in the blanket of night. A meadow of glaze lilies surrounds the little cottage in a sea of fragrance. A prominent mark of your abode.

The little house defended by mountains is secluded, one which Zhongli sent to be made for you while your body stabilizes.

And though the exterior is tranquil, within its walls come soft pants and gasps. Xiao’s brows are knit together in concentration as he ruts against you.

“Please—Ah…nnh a–again,” you beg against your trembling body’s protests.

And he wordlessly complies, folding your legs until your knees are practically at the sides of your head. His hips pick up the pace and his thrusts become desperate, bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. The moans you let out are loud—obscene as he fills you up until you’re overflowing. The pains have long subsided, and you choose to let him overcompensate in giving you the energy that will get you by another few days.

In the serene calm of night, the tranquility is drowned out by the squelching sounds of your bodies meeting each other through desperate thrusts as both of you are sent over the edge. His name falls from your lips in a melody Xiao has grown addicted to. For the nth time that night you come undone beneath him, your essence stabilized.

There’s a swelling warmth in your chest that blooms like spring meadows as Xiao buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tips of his ears are a bright scarlet and though he tries to control it, he is still left a breathless mess as he rides out his orgasm.

“Is it…enough?” Xiao asks between pants, his cock still buried deep within you.

He’s still twitching within you and your entire body shudders with delight at the feeling.

“You… haah—can keep… going if you want,” you offer weakly. There’s a dazed look in your half-lidded eyes that makes Xiao’s chest squeeze. “‘M full but you’re still…”

Hard.

You glance down to where you two are still joined together, the view of his come leaking out of you shamelessly sending heat between your legs again. The tips of Xiao’s ears turn bright red though he tries to remain composed.

“I’ll be fine. You should get some rest to preserve the energy longer.”

He pulls out and ignores the way your eyes look away dejectedly. Before he can stand to go, your hand gently tugs him back down. Xiao allows himself to be pulled against you, his head resting in the valley of your naked chest.

“Stay with me for a bit?”

Xiao doesn’t answer right away, and your heart leaps when he lets out a little sigh and agrees.

“Alright.”

The minutes tick by in tranquil silence. Both tired bodies ignore the sticky feeling of sweat and sex. It’s a feeling you’re both quite used to by now.

“Xiao?” you start quietly after a while. He hums in response, your fingers running through his dark hair soothingly. “Can I kiss you?”

The question is soft, self-conscious almost with the fear of rejection. But you were beyond a breaking point. The feelings were welling up in your chest like a high tide as you felt him tense up at your question.

Sex was common—quite often as a means of easily transferring adeptal energy to you. And because it was a painful process to take in, you found that this method dulled the pain through the twisted pleasures and mixed sensations.

But that’s all it was— a means to keep you alive. You could never say there was a time Xiao kissed you and he always showed restraint in touching your body more than necessary. His bodily needs were never foremost on his mind and he would never tell you how his hands ached to roam your body, how this arrangement became an illusion of a different reality he couldn’t have. And so he locked away his emotions for his own sake.

Xiao lifted his face from your chest, his golden eyes wide with momentary confusion—perhaps even shock. And your face… those wonderful sparkling eyes that glistened with glossy tears on the brink of rolling down your face. He wished he wasn’t the reason you were crying.

In an instant he propped himself up on his forearms, feeling you lightly tremble beneath him from holding back the urge to cry. A quiet hiccup left you as you were overwhelmed by bottled up feelings all at once, his thumb gently brushing your tears away.

“Why?” was all he asked.

Though it was a genuine question, his actions remained tender and calmed the anxiety that gripped your naive heart.

“Because I love you—because I think I love you.”

Quietly you hiccuped beneath him and Xiao gently rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Then love me if it makes you happy,” he responds softly. The tears that twinkle down your face like falling stars are gently kissed away by his soft lips. “I’m with you until the day I die, and if loving me makes living less painful for you then use me as an anchor to reality.”

Your soft crying is hushed as Xiao presses a tender kiss to your lips. It’s short and just enough to bloom your heart with newfound emotions you had yet to experience. Perhaps you reminded the adeptus of himself in a simpler time—naive, innocent. For that, he took pity on you, and also fell deeply in love with you though he would not know it for a long time.

Simply put, he wouldn’t allow himself to know it.

The flowers that surround the small house glow and dance in the night breeze. They bloom with your newfound knowledge—heartache.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Scandal Ch. 1 - Loki x Reader

Summary: After your child is born a Frost Giant, your husband accuses you of infidelitiy, unaware about his own heritage...

Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Angst, Mild Cussing

Noteable: Takes place before Thor 1, Asgardian Fem! Reader

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

It was as if your anchestors wanted to deliver a warning, for Asgard had never faced a storm matching this fateful afternoon.

The thunder swallowed all of your screams and cries, every curse you spoke with each contraction as the baby made it’s way into this world. All this time, your precious husband would never leave your side, letting you squeeze his hand as much as you needed.

“Only a little bit more, my Lady!” the midwife shoutet from between your legs, her tone calm yet cheerful. “I can already see the head!”

“I’m right here. You’re doing wonderful, my petal.” Loki was softly petting your hair, pressing a wet kiss into your forehead. “You are incredibly strong, Y/N. And I love you so much!”

Remaining collected was using up all of his energy at that very moment, you knew that much. Yet not even the God of Lies could hide all the helplessness and excitement stirring in his head at that very moment.

Being with the Prince of Asgard was just like in a dream.

Once you get to know him, that troublesome arrogant lone wolf turned into a smart, caring - and especially charming - prince. And hel, Loki treated you like a Queen.

All this pain you were experiencing right now would ultimately lead to the greatest bliss imagineable - just like it was with Loki.

Oh, how dearly you had fought, suffered, yearned for him, only to be rewarded with heartbreak and frustration. In between his feverishly chase for the throne and his rivalry with Thor, there was just no room for a loving relationship to grow.

The crushing weight of thinking himself unworthy for affection had made him cold and bitter over the millenias, telling himself the comforting lie that he was above all, born for a glorious purpose.

For the God of Mischief, whose kinsmen had always made him feel out of place or under-appreciated, the process of trusting had always been one step forward, three steps back.

But through your compassion, and with a great deal of patience and understanding, you slowly but steadily melted the ice around the prince’s heart.

Because deep inside, you always knew that it was worth it.

And today would be the peak of your romance: Your child would forever remind the Odinson that he belonged somewhere - right here, with you.

“It’s a boy!”

“A heir?!” Loki exclaimed, smothering your face in kisses. “Well done!”

You smiled weakly at his excitement, in between choked sobs. All that your exhausted self was able to process was the fact that your child is born - and you already loved him beyond reason.

“Where is he?!” you whimpered, unable to realize how the air in the room had shifted - for when the midwife touched the infant, she began to scream in agony.

“What’s wrong?!” Loki’s eyes were narrowing at the midwife that almost dropped his newborn, detecting some sort of burn wound on her palm. Quickly, she had covered the boy in a towel, aware that if any harm came over that baby, she was to die at the God of Mischief’s hands.

A flash of lightning was brightening the whole room, which had only been flooded by dim candle light until now.

Another one of the midwife’s screeched in terror, almost stumbling as she frantically erscaped your bedchamber. The adrenaline from birth and worry about your child sharpened your senses, yet concentration was almost impossible.

Still, the words she was yelling as she ran down the hall send a shiver down your spine:

“It’s a monster.”

Your head was spinning as you rushed into an upright position, with two nurses pressing you onto the bed again. “Milady, you need to rest! It’s still too early!”

“What is wrong with my child?!?” you desperately screamed, kicking with your legs to free yourself from their hold. “Give it to me!”

Their expressions were too much to bear. Your head was spinning, seeing pity mixing up with disgust and anger in their eyes.

“Enough!” Loki finally broke his own silence, his mind having been occupied with all the horror scenarios one could think about.

Walking up to the midwife carrying the infant, he demanded seeing it. “Your highness, don’t-” yet the midwife’s beg was for naught.

Yes, everything will be alright. Loki will take care of it, like he always does. After all, he’s your savior, your hero, the love of your life...

Gently and insecure, your husband cradled the newborn in his arms - a sight to behold. And the baby’s strong cries assured you that it was at least alive.

However, as soon as he dared to unwrap the towel, revealing it’s face, Loki’s heartbeat completely stopped for a second. His trembling lip began to shake, mouth widely agape as he took in the child’s form.

For a brief moment, his mind was completely blank. All emotion dropped from his face before taking in a complete different demeanour.

“Wha-” you wouldn’t dare ending that sentence when your husband’s furious eyes met yours.

The air was so thick, you thought not even Thor’s hammer could break it. Clearly ritten on Loki’s usual unreadable face were so many emotions at once:

Aversion, fury, incredible sorrow...all directed towards you? The child?

Impossible.

Loki Odinson loved you more than anything in this world, this was the only thing you had always been sure he wasn’t lying about.

“From all the people I expected to betray me...” His voice was hoarse, as if the ache in his heart was wrapping around his throat. “Why did it have to be you?”

You could feel the horrendous aura, a wave of sadness and despair coming from your husband. Seeing him like this was like torture.

“What- what do you mean, darling-”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you harlot!” That was surely not the first time your lover had raised your voice against you - he could be a bit difficult at times, obviously.

But this time was different somehow. It sounded so...ultimate.

And the Loki you knew would never use such harsh words against you!

“Please, I beg of you...just let me see my baby!” Everything was just too much for you, almost to the point of passing out. 

And the man did as you pleaded, almost shoving the child into your arms. “There, have your bastard! And make sure to never show your filthy faces to me ever again!”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you with those strange nurses looking at you like you’ve just commited an unforgiveable crime.

There was no use in overthinking this. He’ll come back like he always did. You can work this out, whatever it is - even if you are gonna be mad for a very long time, making such a fuss and then disappearing instead of taking care of you, the mother of his child.

Out of a whim, you decided to finally observe the little being you’ve been waiting for all those months.

A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you realized just why everyone was so worked up about that little boy. Yet the sound you made was solely surprised - not a hint of fear or rejection laced your voice.

It was a beautiful baby boy, little fists balled to the air as if he was searching for the warmth of his parents - though his skin was in the shade of a dark blue. When you dared running your hand over the deep lines and ridges on his body, the stinging pain of frostbite immediately stung your fingertips. His eyes snapped open, looking at you with black irises through red scleras.

You knew the meaning of this, even though you didn’t understand how this was possible: This child was a biological Frost Giant. A small one, but nonetheless.

A curse? Was someone trying to play your family dirty? No. If that was the case, the child wouldn’t also have actual powers together with the appearance.

Just how long have those tears been running down your cheeks in thick streams already? You wouldn’t know.

Only one thing came as clear as daylight to you: You loved this baby, more than anything in this world. And no matter the hardships that came along with it - you would protect him, no matter what!

“He’s magnificent...” you sniffled, pecking some quick kisses onto his small body before the cold could hurt you. “I love you so, so much...!”

Not minding the judging looks of the nurses, let alone wondering about the consequences, resolve was starting to give you new strenght.

The boy got a grasp on your finger, and instead of your skin freezing off as expected, your magic allowed him to the boy to finally disguise itself as one of you. How was this even possible? Well, this is probably the first time something like this ever happened, so no one could prepare you for what to expect with this child.

They all say that birth was an impactful event - but nothing could’ve prepared you for everything that you had to endure on this day.

Yet nothing could’ve stopped you from believing that this child was the greatest blessing that ever came over you.

Now you only had to convince your husband of that very fact...

“Y/N Y/L/N!” the guard wouldn’t even bother adressing you with your full title as his harsh voice woke you up. When had you drifted away into slumber anyway? You were probably way more worn out than you wanted to admit...

Your eyes immediately snapped open, heart skipping a beat until you saw that your son was still sleeping soundly right next to you. Stroking his cheek as he smiled up to you, it almost made you forget about that burdensome situation.

“Hey!” Protectingly, you were holding onto your child for dear life as the guard approached both of you. “I have an important message to deliver!”

You scowled, almost like an animal mother protecting their offsprings with baring teeth, even though you knew in that state you would be completely and utterly helpless. “Why now? What could be more important than the well-being of my child?”

The answer let your blood run cold:

“I am here to announce that Lady Y/N Y/L/N has to face a trial in front of the Allfather. The following crimes she is being accused of: Infidelity, collaboration with the enemy and trying to sneak one of them into our glorious kingdom.”

[ikeromantic]

Delicious (NSFW edition)

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction taking place at the end of Ch. 13 in the romantic route. Approx. 1700 words of Fluff and Spice! Some spoilers maybe?

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Tears of Joy

There were three things in this world Mitsuhide enjoyed above all else. One of them was a hot bath, and one of them was teasing his little mouse. To have both in one place at the same time was decadent.

Right this moment, his little one was sinking into the hot water, her expression one of pure pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, cheeks faintly pink. A sheen of sweat covered her brow from the steam. She looked . . . delicious.

Of course, she chose the moment he licked his lips to open her eyes. “Mitsuhide! You - you’re staring at me!” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Little one, I’ve seen you naked several times now. Why are you suddenly shy?”

“I - you - I feel like a real mouse about to be eaten up by a very happy cat.”

“Kitsune,” Mitsuhide corrected.

She blinked. “What?”

“About to be eaten by a very happy kitsune.”

She giggled. “Yes, I guess that.”

“You have such a beautiful smile, my love.” He watched her expression shift from laughter to charmed surprise.

“I don’t know what to say when you say things like that.” She touched her face, where the bruise still discolored her skin. “Especially right now.”

Mitsuhide shook his head. “Silly little mouse. As if such a fading mark makes you any less.” He shrugged off his clothes and let them pool at his feet.

Whatever she had been about to say was reduced to a sharp exhale at his sudden nudity. Her eyes went wide as she tried to fix her gaze on a point somewhere above his chest.

“Is there something wrong?”

“N-no! No, of course not! You’re. Just. Naked. All the way. Naked.” She swallowed.

Mitsuhide grinned. “I did plan to bathe with you this time . . .” He *might* have posed himself to best display his . . . attributes. “Should I wait until you finish instead?”

She licked her lips and shook her head. “I - you - just get in and quit teasing me!”

“What fun would that be, little mouse?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. Perhaps never. He walked slowly to the edge of the tub, using his dancer’s grace to draw out the movement. It was worth every second to see the stain on her cheeks darken and the desire in her eyes grow.

He stepped into the wooden tub and sank down into the hot water. A little groan of pleasure escaped him as he felt the tension melt from his legs and back. “If there is a heaven, little mouse, this is in it.”

She smiled. “I wish I could introduce you to the baths in my time. And hot showers!”

“Mmm, perhaps one day. Your friend seemed to think these . . . warm-holes? Will come again.”

“Sasuke did say as much. I don’t know how sure he is though. I mean, what if we went to my time and got stuck? Or what if I went but it wouldn’t take you?” She chewed at her lip, anxious over all the possible things that could go wrong on such a trip.

It was too adorable, Mitsuhide thought, and put his arm around her. He pulled her next to him and placed a kiss on her head. “Don’t worry about things that are not problems. We have enough ahead of us.”

His little one laughed softly. “True enough. I’m sure Nobunaga and Hideyoshi will have plenty to say when we get home.”

“Yes, those two for certain. But I don’t want to talk about them tonight. Tonight . . . there is only you, and I.” Mitsuhide ran his hand down her back, glorying in her soft skin, and the way she leaned into his touch.

“Oh? Are we going to talk about us?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

He nodded. “We will. But first-” He settled his hands on her hips and lifted her around to sit in front of him. “Let’s enjoy our bath.” He cupped water in his hands and poured it over her hair, running his fingers through it. “I will start with the top of you, and work all the way to the bottom.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling her little, wicked smile. “The bottom, hm?” And then she wiggled against him.

Mitsuhide couldn’t have held back the groan that burst from his lips, or the sharp intake of breath that followed. He’d been hard when he got into the bath, but now he felt as if he might burst. The sensation of her naked skin rubbing his cock was like fuel to his flame. And she knew it. She was smiling more widely now, fully aware of the effect she had on him.

“Oh . . . little one . . . you will pay for that,” he breathed.

“Looking forward to it,” she replied, spoiling the bravado a bit by swallowing nervously after.

Though it was sheer torment to keep her pressed against him, Mitsuhide held her there as he first rinsed her hair. Then he rubbed her skin with fragrant herbs, gently removing the dust of their travel.

It was hard enough to wash her back, but when he turned her around, she used the moment to wrap her legs around his waist. Positioning herself deliciously atop his erection. He ached to be inside her, and wondered if his little mouse had any idea how much self control it took him not to simply . . .

She was laughing softly. Her eyes were merry and her smile was brilliant.

“Wicked little mouse. If I were any other man -” he growled low in his throat, letting his frustration show.

She leaned forward until her nipples brushed the skin of his chest. “Mitsuhide. I want you. You don’t need to hold back with me.”

And then he was kissing her. It wasn’t what he’d planned. Wasn’t the seduction he’d wanted to perform, but gods . . . she tasted so sweet. And she felt like silk. Her slick, warm fingers stroked his chest, his hip. Curled around his shaft. He thought he would die from the pleasure of it as she slid her hand slowly up, and then down again. His body shuddered against her.

Two could play at that though. If she wanted to bring him to the brink . . . He grabbed her breast in one hand, teasing the nipple with his fingers. His other hand slid down between her legs. He could feel how much she wanted him just by the heat from her.

The sound she made when he stroked her sweet pearl was half-gasp, half moan. He smiled, watching the way she trembled as he slid the pad of his thumb over her cleft again. Not that it helped his own situation. Touching her was torture. Like the sound of dripping water when you were mad with thirst.

She gave a raw cry of pleasure as he slipped his fingers inside of her, clenching tight on him as if she would hold him there. “M-my god . . . M-mitsu . . . hide - I - I -”

He might have said something then, taunted her a little, but she stroked him again, and whatever words he had were lost. He wanted to bury himself in her, to make her cry his name until she was hoarse from it. His fingers slid into her again and again, but it wasn’t enough for either of them.

Gasping, he moved his hands to her hips and pulled her into position atop him.

“Ah-haha,” she gave a panting laugh. “Y-you d-didn’t beg me. Yet.” And then his little mouse - no! His little vixen - rubbed his cock between her legs, pressing him tight enough that he could feel her clench as if to pull him inside. She moaned as his shaft rubbed the hard pebble of her clit.

It was enough to drive him mad. This game she was playing . . . she wanted him to beg. Then for her, he would. “Please.” The word purred from his throat. “Please . . .” Low and hoarse and desperate.

She rose up, and then sank down onto his shaft. Her body shuddered and she let out a piercing cry of pleasure that went higher the deeper he went.

Mitsuhide was a proud man. He would have liked to draw this first time out - to ride her to completion several times before he found his own satisfaction. But the feel of her climaxing against him, the sound of her, the sight of her breasts . . . it was too much. After months of teasing himself with her, and taking no other woman to his bed, he couldn’t hold back.

“I love you,” she gasped, her hips rising and falling as she rode him.

He pulled her down to his lips, kissing her until their tremors subsided. “I love you too, little one,” he said when he could speak again. He felt so relaxed that he didn’t want to move. Not an inch. He liked having her perched on him, impaled. Her naked breasts floating in the hot water, brushing his chest. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes on him, and only him.

“We waited way too long for this. Just. Mmmmm . . .” She smiled.

Mitsuhide stroked her cheek. “I wanted to wait. I wanted to be sure that . . . that you wanted this. Me.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea how sure I am.”

“I think I might,” he smiled. Then his expression turned serious. “When we get back to Azuchi, I plan to ask Nobunaga for the right to marry you. I will make you my wife. Officially. In name and title . . . if . . . if you are willing.”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Mitsuhide Akechi?” She wiggled her hips, which made him gasp involuntarily.

“I am.”

“Then yes. If you promise me we’ll make love like this every night.”

Mitsuhide kissed the tip of her nose. “I can’t promise you that.”

“What? Why not?”

He grinned. “Because I plan to make love to you in a thousand inventive ways. I plan to tease you until you beg for release. To pleasure you as an art form. One that I will master. This . . . tonight . . . this was only a beginning.”

“Mmmm, I think our beginning isn’t quite over,” she smiled. And she was right. He was ready for her again.

That night he began an intense study of this new art form. After the bath, they moved to the bench, then the desk and the wall, and finally . . .the futon. Spent, they fell asleep in each other’s arms just as the light of morning began to peek through the window. It wasn’t near enough to wake the exhausted lovers.

Next: Hero's Welcome

[ptergwen]

hi val! i'm the one who sent in that peter annoying reader request. god that was such a good one i felt it 😂 can i ask for a part 2 for that?? maybe the reader somehow tells brad that she has a crush on peter so that was why she was so hurt he made fun of her, and brad helps her plotting against peter, it ends up peter being absolutely mad?? How it ends is up to you val! Thank you!!

gotcha

w/c: 1.4k

warnings: swearing and jealous peter hehe

a/n: here’s part one :,) i really like this concept so i ended up doin a oneshot

-

“ok, y/n. be honest,” brad prompts you, the two of you walking home from decathlon practice. “were you really crying because you didn’t remember the first president?” his lips pull into a knowing smirk. you bite a smile back and hold on to your backpack straps. “i mean, that’s part of it.” “say more,” he bumps your shoulder with his.

“i was crying because peter probably thinks i’m stupid now,” you admit, your grip tightening on your backpack. brad doesn’t try to cover up his scoff. “who cares what peter thinks?” squinting at him, you hit his arm lightly. “i do. he’s my friend.” “so am i. it shouldn’t be any different,” brad points out, clearly offended.

the sidewalk is empty except for you two, so you stop walking. brad does the same and makes a face at you. “right?” “no. i...” you take in a breath. you’re not looking forward to his reaction. “i like him. i like peter.” brad’s face goes from confused to terrified.

him and peter have hated each other for as long as you’ve known them. it’s why you keep him separate from the rest of your friends.

“he made you feel like crap, y/n! he’s a-“ “don’t call him a dick again,” you cut brad off and start to walk without him. he quickly catches up, his eyes still fixed on you. “i don’t get it. the dude pretty much says he’s better than you, and you like him,” brad tries to change your mind. too bad for him, you’re not easily persuaded.

“he was just playing around. he didn’t know i was actually upset, or he would’ve stopped,” you defend peter and your taste in guys. “we do that.” “y/n, please. you have so many other options,” brad all but begs, moving so he’s in front of you. he’s walking backwards now. you step past him and leave him behind you.

“no, brad. i’ve liked him for a while already,” the hurt is evident in your voice. you didn’t expect him to be happy about this, but jeez. could he show some support? brad picks up on your mood change and feels bad about it. unlike peter, he has self awareness. “i’m... sorry. are you gonna, like, tell him?” he asks with a nervous smile.

you smile back, yours wicked. “sort of. that’s where you come in.”

-

the next day at school, peter looks for you first thing. everyone is at your locker. everyone including brad. whatever, that’s not important right now. his main focus is on telling you how awful he feels about yesterday.

mj notices him walk up first, so she takes a step back to open the circle. she presses her lips together and clears her throat. that gets ned’s attention. ned realizes peter is here and offers an awkward smile. peter nods at him and turns to you. his eyes are already pleading.

the smile that was just on your face fades out. “oh,” is all you murmur out, then add, “hi.” “hi,” peter drags the word out. he glances over at brad. he’s standing too close to you for peter’s liking. squeezing his eyes shut, they land on you when he opens them.

“listen, y/n. i’m so sorry about everything i said. i didn’t realize i was the only one laughing,” peter tells you, every word sounding genuine. ned looks between the two of you sadly. “there’s.... there’s no excuse,” he keeps going. your features soften from the look of guilt on his face.

mj nods at you as a way of saying to let him finish. she would never let shit like this slide, so you know peter has to mean it.

“and i don’t think any less of you. it was a mistake,” peter’s eyes drop down to the floor. “i’ve said the wrong answer before, too.” those words heal what the ones from yesterday broke. you’re fully ready to forgive him now. “thank you. that made me feel a lot better,” you give peter a small smile.

“we’re good,” you assure him, peter now sporting a grin of his own. that is, until brad throws an arm around your shoulders. he’d almost forgotten he was there. you lean back against his chest as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

huh?

the rest of the group gets into a conversation about what you should do over the weekend. guess that means brad will be there. peter doesn’t hear a single word because he’s too busy staring at you. you’re cuddling in the middle of the hallway with the only person on earth he completely hates.

brad is right on time whenever he messes up. the one time it’s with you and now he’s, what, your boyfriend? it’s not fair.

you’d drafted a plan with brad last night to get this exact response. you convinced him to fake date you. peter would hopefully get jealous, which he did, and that would prove if he likes you or not. it’s also good payback for making you cry over abraham lincoln.

brad didn’t want to do it at first because anything that ends with you dating peter, he refused to be part of. you brought up the fact that he would get to piss him off all day. then, he fell in love with the idea.

-

you stay attached to brad’s side all day. holding hands when you walk from class to class, sitting close to him at lunch. he’s never joined your group for lunch before. plus, you normally sit next to peter. he has to sit next to betty today. she talks a lot.

part of peter thought you liked him. he has other friends who are girls, and he doesn’t act the same with them. is your banter not flirting? did he interpret everything wrong? apparently he did because now you’re kissing brad’s cheek while he sips his orange juice.

that’s it for him. he gets up from the bench without any explanation and takes off, not bothering to bring his stuff. you pull away from brad and frown.

“i think it worked,” he comments, casually wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. ned and mj share a look. “you’re aren’t... dating?” she points at you and brad, which you shut down. “no, we’re fake dating. i like peter.” “oh, shit. you do? he likes you too!” ned blurts out. betty’s eyes grow the size of her whole face.

“how did i miss this? you guys don’t tell me anything!” she scolds you all and grabs your hand. “you have to go after him.” you look over at brad, who gives you a nod of approval. he’ll learn to hate peter a little less for you. “i am,” you decide and quickly slip out from the table. everyone shouts good luck wishes after you.

-

you find peter in a stairway on the second floor. he takes it to get to his next class, so you thought to come here. he’s sitting on the staircase with his arm on the railing. his head is leaning on his arm. he looks completely defeated. you might have broken his heart instead of made him jealous.

peter lifts his head when he sees you coming up the stairs. you wordlessly sit down next to him. clearing your throat, you get ready to say something. he talks first.

“i thought you and brad were just friends,” peter states with no emotion behind it. your heart starts thumping in your chest. “we are.” he licks his lips out of habit. “doesn’t look like it.” “i asked him to fake date me, peter,” you admit and search for his eyes, turning to face him on the stair. his eyebrows furrow. “what?”

“i wanted to make you jealous. i didn’t know you’d end up like... this,” you gesture to the mopey state he’s in. peter shakes his head in disbelief. “can we go back to the first part? you wanted to make me jealous?” a smile spreads across your face. “yeah.”

your lips suddenly land on his cheek, leaving both of them pink. he touches where you kissed him and grins. “if that didn’t make it clear, i like you,” you laugh out and scoot back from him. “i like you, too,” peter takes your hand before you go too far. he laces your fingers together.

“ned already told me.” you squeeze his hand and he lets out a breath. “i can’t even be mad at him.”

peter has a pretty great best friend. you do, too. you actually got brad to help you pull this whole thing off. he might not be so bad after all.

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 23: Desperate Passions

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, oral sex, penetrative sex, nipple play, nipple piercings, scars/stitches, fingering

Summary: Juniper is fully healed and ready to get back to one of their favorite hobbies!

Feedback appreciated. 18+. This is a smut heavy chapter

“What are we having tonight, love?” Heisenberg asked, sitting back in the wooden chair. He had returned from working to find her over the stove, a simmering pot filling the apartment with a delicate fragrance.

“Pilaf.” She answered sweetly.

“Ah…alright.” Heisenberg nodded, her answer not making anything more clear to him.

He cut open a cigar, lighting it and bringing it to his lips as he watched her.

She pulled two deep plates out of the cabinet, looking towards him, “Get anything exciting made today?”

He made a prideful rumble, speaking through the cigar, “Mhm. The Soldat Zwei is almost finished. Give the bastard one, maybe two, good days of work and he should be up.”

“They are the ones with two drills right?”

“Correct. Moved the reactor core to the back as well.”

“When are you starting the….the Pan..pan?” She couldn’t find the words, placing a glass of water and silverware on the table.

“The Panzer?”

“Yea that one! They looked big.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it will be.” He gave a devilish smile, “Gotta wait till I get a bastard built like a shit brick house for that one.”

“Like Sturm?” She scooped food into the deep plates.

“Unfortunately…yes.” He frowned, that creature still brought him nothing but grief.

Juniper placed a plate before him, before taking a seat with her own.

Fuck me…what is this?

Heisenberg gulped looking at the meal. It was a pile of rice with chicken, carrots, mushrooms and herbs mixed in. It smelled normal and appetizing but left much to be desired to the eyes.

Juniper took a bite, looking at him through narrow eyes.

“Love, did you make bread as well?” He asked hopefully.

“No, there’s rice in here.” She pointed her fork at him, “And vegetables. Eat it.”

He made a little grumble, tucking into his food. It tasted good, the rice made with the broth from the chicken and the herbs giving it a homely taste.

…Thank god.

Heisenberg thought, mercifully, as he started eating with more gusto. Juniper loved to cook, and loved seeing him eat what she made even more. But her passion for the craft was almost matched with her desire to strive to make each meal healthy. Even if it meant throwing in things that tasted like death to pack more nutrients into every meal.

Heisenberg didn’t know if it was her trying to curb his lack of anything healthy or some Devine  force punishing him for his terrible daily diet for decades. In any case, it was a small price to pay for her happiness.

He finished his plate, even going back for a second. On the way back to his seat he paused, giving Juniper a soft pat on top of her head with his free hand. She beamed up at him.

They spoke more of his upcoming Soldat plans over dinner. Heisenberg explained how the Panzers should be immune to most types of damage, save for heavier explosions. They would be risky to produce and time consuming but a good last line of defense.

“Will all the armor put stress on the core?” Juniper asked.

He nodded, “I’ll have to use the bigger exhaust port like on Sturm but take in the energy production per energy draw to the multiple drills.”

“So they don’t overheat?”

“Precisely. I don’t want them spitting fire like the big boy.” Heisenberg pointed out.

After Juniper cleaned up the mess from dinner, Heisenberg ushered her into the bathroom. She followed him, used to this routine, she pulled her dress off and sat on the sink. Heisenberg leaned  on his palms against the counter on either side of her, dipping in to give her a kiss. She deepened the contact, hands finding the sleeves of his button up shirt.

He gave a happy little rumble, pulling away enough to inspect her incision. She sat still, waiting as he looked her over with a critical eye. The infection was completely gone, the tissue a healthy healing pink.

“I can probably remove the stitches, if you’d like.” He concluded.

“Please.” She almost begged, “They itch.”

He stood, chuckling, “Itching is good, means it’s healing.”

He retrieved a sharp pair of scissors, pouring a bit of peroxide over the blades before kneeling before her once more. With careful cuts he snipped through the stitches, pulling them free with deft fingers.

He tossed them away one by one into the trash can. Juniper watched him with big eyes.

“Will it scar?” Juniper asked quietly.

“Afraid so, Darling.” Heisenberg frowned.

Her eyes looked glassy, glancing over the pinkish new tissue.

Heisenberg took her face in his hands, lifting her chin up to meet his gaze. She wilted a bit.

"What's up?" He asked, concern in his gaze.

"Hmm…" She almost didn't answer, looking away, "I don’t want you to think I’m ugly…I have really bad scars…”

“Are you fucking serious.” Heisenberg’s lips were a fine line, “Look at me.”

She met his eyes, him correcting her, “No look at all of me. Look at all the shit my body has been through.”

Her eyes wavered, scanning him over. He was covered in scars, his skin was a patchwork of pearlescent lattice, even his face sporting a few.

“I am a scarred, fucked up old man.” He said plainly, “You are so fucking beautiful. A few scars can’t change that.”

Her eyes watered, cheeks growing rosey.

His face split with a grin, “Have I ever hesitated to bend your ass over every flat surface in this factory?”

 “…no.” She mumbled.

“Don’t  you even start to think I don’t find you sexy as all hell, ok love?”

“Mmmm.”

“What?”

“You haven’t bent me over anything in months.” Juniper pouted in his hands.

Heisenberg looked at her a moment before throwing back his head and barking out with laughter.

“You were healing!” He bared his teeth playfully, “But you’re all fixed up now, how about I show you how much you drive me fucking wild?”

Juniper smiled, nuzzling into his cupped hands, “Please, master?”

“Oh Honey.” He almost purred, “Keep that up and you’ll be bedridden again.”

They made their way back to the bedroom, Heisenberg catching her up in a messy kiss. While she was distracted he removed the rest of her clothing, backing her up until her calves touched the bed.

He lightly pushed her back, Juniper making a little ‘oof’ as she hit the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows, smiling as Heisenberg fell to his knees before her.

He didn’t dive straight into her heat like she expected, instead pulling her by the ankles closer to the edge.

His eyes were dark and hungry as he dipped his head in to drop rough kisses up the length of her leg. Juniper shivered at the heat of his mouth as he trailed ever closer to the place she wanted him desperately.

His lips lingered on the softness of her inner thigh, sucking a dark blotch there. He pulled free with a wet pop, meeting her gaze. She was already flushed.

“I’m going to have to re-mark my claim on you.” He almost purred the words.

“Make me yours in every way.” She spoke sweetly.

“I plan to.” He promised, kissing upwards.

He dropped a kiss just above her clit, smiling when her breath hitched. She made a little sound of want when he pulled away, thrusting her hips up in an effort to urge him back. Heisenberg growled as his large hands found her legs, pushing her down against the bed.

Juniper whimpered, watching him move higher.

He kissed along her scar, eyes flicking up to meet hers. The new tissue was sensitive under his lips, his beard making her skin prickle.

“Fucking perfect.” He concluded when he covered its length, his hands forcing her thighs more apart, “Every part.”

“…stop.” Juniper’s cheeks reddened further.

“Oh no.” He gave a devilish smile, “No mercy for you my little wifey.”

She gave a little mewl at his tone, her core clenching air.

“I was looking forward to dessert all night.” His face split with a mirthful grin.

“Then come get it!” She bared her teeth a bit playfully

Heisenberg dove into her sex, eating her like a starving man. He was messy and forceful, causing her to melt in seconds. He growled into her flesh, already feeling her tighten under him. He pulled away, scoring his thumb over her clit as he licked slick from his lips, “Already such a damn mess for me.”

“It’s…it’s been a w-while.” She spoke between pants.

 “Too long.” He agreed, going back in.

He made sure to pull multiple orgasms from her with only his mouth and hands, stopping every so often to trail kisses up her abdomen. She was breathy and blissed out, completely forgetting her earlier self-consciousness.

He stood, giving her a moment of mercy. Juniper watched him, breasts quaking as she regained her breath. Her skin was already glistening with a light sheen of sweat, stray onyx curls stuck to her forehead. Heisenberg slowly removed each layer of clothing, almost making a show of it under her hungry gaze.

Finally kicking off his boxers he crawled onto the bed. The bed creaked under their combined weight as he loomed over her.

Juniper eager hands found him quickly, squeezing the thick ropes of muscle that made his arms.

“Pretty impressive eh?” He smirked cockily.

Her fingers slid upwards, fanning over his chest. She gave him a little devilish look as she found his only nipple piercing.

His breath hitched a bit as she toyed with it; coming almost unglued entirely when her head quickly dipped in to take the metal into her mouth.

The movement was almost too fast for him to react before the sensation rippled through his body. Juniper was spurred on when she saw how his body shivered in response, deepening the contact.

Heisenberg pushed her away, holding her down against the bed with strong hands. He swallowed, “That’s enough of that.”

Juniper licked her lips, the taste of metal and skin on her tongue, “Seemed to like it.”

He ground his teeth a bit, aware of his hard cock. He caught her lips up with his own before she could continue.

He kept her occupied, grouping down her body as he lined himself up. She gasped into his mouth when she felt the weeping tip bump her folds. He pulled away to brace himself over her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” His voice was low and almost wavering as he pushed into her. Juniper’s back arched, moaning as his cock stretched her out deliciously.

Her core was tight from the months without him.

He started pumping into her almost desperately, lifting her legs to hook around his waist. With the better angle he was able to reach deeper, rubbing against her g-spot with every thrust.

She clawed down his back, crying out every time their hips sloppily met together.

The sex was messy and raw, both needing to feel the release of pent up passions. Heisenberg groaned out breathily, hands finding purchase in the mattress to buck into her harder.

He felt her tense under him. “F-Fuck! Come for me Doll. Come on my cock!” He grunted out, moving a hand to her clit. His thumb scored quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Juniper buckled under him, sobbing out her release. A surge of slick coated his cock as her cunt clamped down on him.

She felt divine, like liquid velvet around him. Heisenberg became a mess of sounds himself, balls slapping into her ass roughly as he chased his own release.

His hips jolted, bottoming out in her. She felt him pulse as her insides were flooded with hot ropes of come.

She felt extremely full, bits of his release oozing out around his cock.

He settled over her, wanting to stay slotted within her walls. Catching her breath she pulled his face closer, peppering his jaw with kisses.

He gave a little rumble of amusement, letting her fawn over him.

~

They tangled into one another, the darkness filled with the sounds of their heavy breathes and soft moans. A hunger of the flesh deep in their minds. Words weren’t needed. Their touches, tinged with desperation for an act both had feared would be lost to them, was everything in that moment.

Skin to skin, a heartbeat felt under fingertips. The world outside the bed didn’t exist, the nightmares couldn’t reach them.

Heisenberg pressed his body against Juniper’s, his cock never leaving her. In the soft lulls between rounds of sex he held her close, wanting to feel over every inch of her. She thankfully held onto him, losing track of the hours. He nipped into the soft flesh of her throat, huffing out hotly when he heard her mewl.

He felt her tense under him as he rocked into her afresh. Juniper didn’t know how many rounds or orgasms they shared, the night becoming a blur of pleasure and overstimulation.

Eventually exhaustion overtook her and Juniper fell asleep against his chest. Heisenberg stayed fully inserted inside of her, softly tracing her spinal scar. Their bodies were stuck together with sweat, he could feel every breath and heartbeat of hers.

He let his mind wander to work. With the spring thaw here it would make collecting bodies from the grave easier, but also he would have to be much more on top of watching the village for casualties.

Juniper was his favorite distraction but she was a distraction nonetheless. He wouldn’t force her away, no, she gave him more purpose to strive to escape. She made his hunger to explore the world deeper, he wanted to give her a better life than the factory.

And he would give it to her.

[kettlequills]

how the dragon chases his tail

Miraak the Dragon Priest was not always a man haunting the halls of Apocrypha. Once, he was a little boy, and he had a terrible choice to make. On A03 here. For TESFest21, prompt: change.

CW: brief self harm, indoctrination, mention of castration, explicit references to violence and character death. Also, the Dragon Cult.

The boy that would be Miraak thrusts out his chest in pride when he sings. (He has another name, then, one that tastes of sweet snow and young summers. But that name is never written in any book and fades even from its bearer under the press of centuries, so the boy he shall be.)

 He is only young, but he knows he is the best singer in the cult choir, probably in the whole temple. The priest that directs the children always gives the boy solos and arranges the whole choir to compliment his voice. Not every child born in the village below gains the chance to serve out their due to the temple so quickly, and the boy is very sensible of the good fortune his lovely singing wins him.

 He is devastated, therefore, when his voice cracks halfway through a pure high note that should be      easy.  

 “It is natural – quite normal, a maturation process, of sorts,” Frinaar says hurriedly. Frinaar is an absently devoted man, but he lives for his choir pleasing the ear of his dragon master. (In five years, this love will not save him when his master grows bored and rends him chest to groin with one swipe. His organs will fall soft and pink from his belly, and he will be dead before he hits the ground.)

 But for now, the priest cranes his head around the corners before he takes them, ushering the boy along with sweeps of his voluminous, incense-stained robes, like he is quite afraid of anyone with less than perfect control over their voice to be found in the temple. “Quite normal – only so unfortunate – right before our master should return – so unfortunate. The display will not be the same without the lead and that understudy…”

 Frinaar clucks his tongue, ringing praise for the boy’s young rival, Jyric. (Older, and jealous of the boy’s special treatment by the priests, Jyric is resentful and bitter. He will not mourn the fate he hears the boy earns for himself, when the boy is a man. But he will not long outlive it either, for he will be seized with a terrible wasting disease that will take the strength from his bones, and abandoned by his kin, will succumb to it in shivering fever alone.)

 “Master may be displeased – so many of the choristers eaten, at recent, and…”  He pauses, sweeps down to look at the boy beneath one bushy brow. “You do not think – you do not think that you could      delay    it? Your voice breaking?” he asks hopefully.

     “Yes,”    the boy cries at once, desperate for any chance, and his voice cracks.

 Frinaar winces. “Get gone.” He brushes the boy vaguely towards the temple doors, muttering to himself. “I knew that we should fix them when we get them, then this would not happen! Or only permit girlchildren, but it’s ‘ah, Frinaar, how will our village grow, if you prevent our boys from becoming fathers and our girls becoming mothers?’ Well, I should like to see how our village will grow when the choristers are all off and the master is displeased!”

 Disappearing in a whirl of mumbling and swishing robes, Frinaar leaves the boy to it. For a moment, the boy stands there, hoping against hope that there is some mistake, and that Frinaar will come back to fetch him.

 The iron doors, carved with beautiful depictions of the dragons the temple serves, remain stubbornly closed. And the boy that would be Miraak is brave, and he is strong, but he is only a boy, and he is suffering the bitterest disappointment of his life.

 He bursts into tears, and the shame of it is enough to send him to his knees.

 Sat on the steps, knobbly knees drawn up to his forehead, he cries silently with the experience of any child who has lived every night of his life since his sixth winter in a crowded dormitory. He is lucky, he knows, because the boy has family in the village. A mother, and siblings; he sees them sometimes when the temple children are allowed to go down to the village to celebrate festivals. They are good people. His mother will be coming to get him.

 Not everyone has a mother to fetch them when their temple years are served. Some go to beg for an apprenticeship, a trade, or remain at the temple to join the ranks of warriors destined to guard the temple and barrows beyond. But the boy does not feel like it is luck now.

 Anything that takes him further from the temple and all that he has come to know feels like a curse.

 Eventually, though, he runs out of tears and instead dips his fingers in the snow, rubbing the cold water under his eyes to reduce the swelling. This too, he has practiced, how to look as if he has not just been crying. He straightens his spine and assumes a bored posture, like he has never been more confident and calm in his life. He is aware, after all, of the slits cut into the walls of the temple, for the guards to see approaching intruders on the temple steps where he sits.

 This is how his mother sees him, when she, huffing, reaches the top of the temple steps. She glances around, a little uncertainly, her smile tentative. (Her name is Sinawen, but the boy will not remember it all, when he is a man looking back through muddled memories. So, we will call her Sina, because her story is sad enough without the grief of eroded memory. She will burn in agony for the crimes of her son, having outlived all of her children save one, whose fate is murky to her on her deathbed, but whose suffering is assured.)

 “My son?” Sina says, and calls him by that name, that name that the boy would forget.

 “Mother,” he says back, determinedly keeping his voice at a low, even tone, and her whole face crinkles into a sunbeam of joy.

 “My boy!” she says, and rushes towards him, and quite before the boy can do anything at all he is enfolded into a huge hairy hug. She smells like peppermint and the winter trees she tends in their beds of snow and ice for the village. (It is important work. It is why she has only had to give one child to the temple, her lastborn, who takes most after his long-distant father.)

 The boy that would be Miraak hangs there in his mother’s arms and wishes that the ground would swallow him up on the spot. He hopes his rival Jyric has not found a slit to watch through, and laugh at the boy being coddled by his mother like a child. Humiliation makes rosy apples of his cheeks, and he pushes at her.

 (He is a child, still. How quickly do they wish for what they do not understand. Does he know that this will be the last time he gets such an embrace, steeped in a mother’s love, uncomplicated and clear as ice? Of course he doesn’t.)

 She releases him, used to the pride of the young, but she holds his hand when they go down the temple steps, and he lets her. Her black claws are like his, though the boy’s are clipped short so he will not tear the papers he works with, and when he looks up he sees her cloud of hair swaying in the breeze, salt-flecked cream, and this is the image he will hold of her in his heart, looking off towards the home the boy had been born in with a smile on her lips and tear-tracks on her cheeks.

 (Would it change anything, if he did know?)

 “I am so glad you are coming home, my son,” she says, “We have all missed you.”

 The boy says nothing at all at this, because there is a flicker of shame in his heart. Of all the children in the dormitory, he has been the quickest to scorn the homesick, the swiftest to pledge every thought in his mind to devouring whatever scraps of knowledge the priests have seen fit to grant their charges. He has not thought of coming      back,    in that vague way of inexperience, thought then that this heady time of learning would last forever.

 (He will learn, unfortunately, that there can be too much of such a good thing.)

 The village is not far from the temple, and Sina’s home not far from the village, nestled between cold white stands of frosty trees. A small shrine waits off the path, devoted to the owl-god Jhunal and the whale-god Stuhn, warding against demons drawn by the misty woods. It is well tended, but the boy still spots, hidden on the bark of a tree, a watchful carved eye that does not seem like it belongs with the rest of the shrine.

 The boy does not think anything of it.

 (Do you?)

 “Better things than that temple out there,” says the boy’s eldest brother, after they have eaten, and the misery on the boy’s face can no longer be attributed to hunger. He is wild and tangle-haired, spends his whole life to date out in the snows, and still feels constrained.

 (His name is Terren, and he will not survive a chance stumble into a bear trap, not far from the hunter’s path he had strayed from. A summer from this day, he will be a frozen corpse, found only the following spring when a lost hound tracks the wrong kill. The boy will remember him unnamed, as only as his shredded blue face, gnawed by animals, exposed bone pointing to the sky, and forget their relation, any sense of why this face hurts more than any other he has seen.)

 (It will be the kindest fate those with this boy’s blood meet.)

 “Yes!” pipes his second sibling, Minwen, a sister whose quick fingers at the distaff has won her valued approval, whose bright eyes look at the temple on the hill that swallows her brother with as much trepidation as curiosity. (She will die choking, and her quick fingers will not be enough to stem the blood warm and wet that will gush from her cut throat. The boy’s memory of her kindness will be taken from him, and of her all he will recall is blood-soaked snow and deep dragon-laughter.) “You could learn magic, at home with us.”

 “That’s stupid,” the boy snaps. His voice cracks and he sinks his head into his arms. “I’m      supposed    to be there now. I’m the best singer they have.      I,    ” he adds, venomously, thinking of Jyric, “      never    lose the beat.”

 It is true. The boy has a sense of timing that is as innate as it is perfect.

 (Any skill can be a torment, when cultivated by the right gardener.)

 “When you are a man,” his mother offers, quietly, mouth pinched around the edges, “couldn’t you go back?”

 “They don’t need any more apprentices,” the boy says glumly. “They have too many. Frinaar always complains. And that’s years, and      years    away. I’d rather die.”

 His siblings exchange glances. A depressing silence has settled over the table. The boy takes this as his due, too young to realise his selfishness.

 (I would love to tell you that he learns.)

 Sina sighs. “It may not be what you want, my son, but we are very happy to have you home.”

 (But you know better, don't you?)

 The boy’s brother Terren scoffs, a little, muttering something about ungratefulness. Minwen next to him elbows him sharply in the ribs, hissing      “Think of mother!”  

 (Please do think of her. Sinawen’s suffering will be eaten by her god. Someone could at least remember she existed. Eventually, her son won’t.)

 The boy says nothing, grinding his forehead into the wood of the table. He is consumed in his own misery, everything he has worked for in his young life ripped away from him. It isn’t      fair,    he thinks jealously. He doesn’t      want    to be a wood-grower like his mother, or a spinner, or a scout, or to join the everlasting battle against the beasts and bandits beyond the bounds of the village that has taken his father from the guards.

 (It isn’t about what the boy wants.)

 He wants… he wants the feeling he gets, when he is tasked to sweep the courtyard and lingers close to the wall where the master roosts, eyes running over dragon-words scratched with dragon-claws. The feeling that swells, hot and bright, when he sees dragons overhead, chasing each other’s tails and immense in their majesty. The power that he feels, somewhere just out of reach, when he sings out strong and brave and the whole of the choir rises up around him like a voice of thunder. He feels – he feels alone, in the warmth of his mother’s house, the people that are his family all around him.

 He feels alone when he squeezes a carefully-rescued scale no one misses in his hand, so hard that it draws blood. And something in him looks at the blood that wells around his skin, warm and red, and is disappointed that it doesn’t burn like acid dragonblood. He feels alone then, too. But it is a different      aloneness,    something that feels like a secret whispered in a language he doesn’t know.      Set apart,    instead of      left behind.  

 But, the boy thinks mulishly, he could learn another language. He can’t fill the gap that has grown after years away.

 (See how proud and foolish he is! Can you imagine yet how much the boy will regret this?)

 Dinner is eaten quickly, and Terren is out the door to roam the stands of ice-trees, trail hard claws over the bark. Minwen braids her mane around her fox-ears with ribbons. And his mother draws the boy outside, and takes him to stand beneath the tree with the watchful eye. Sina goes to her knees in the snow and holds her son’s face. Her eyes are deep and warm, crinkled with laugh lines at the edges.

 “You have the look of your father,” she tells him, “And his spirit, apparently.” She clucks her tongue. “He was insistent that we go to a temple village, for the winged ones. I see Kyne in his hawk-eyes like yours.”

 (Do you think that Kyne cares?)

 The boy is watching the sky, not paying attention. Something in him is itching. “You’re not supposed to say that,” he says. “You’re supposed to call them masters.”

 “When the priests can grow wood from ice alone, they can correct how I speak,” Sinawen says firmly. “You are not in the temple, any longer. I can teach you my art. How often did they even let you out? You were not made for stone tombs, my son.”

     “I    am a priest,” says the boy.

 “There are other gods,” Sina says, but his mother’s reply is drowned by the sweep of mighty wings overhead. Sina grabs her son as he lurches towards the temple, eyes tracing the shimmering, bluer-than-blue shape, the joyful roar of frost. It shakes his bones. He knows, without knowing, that the dragon is greeting its roost, crowing its mastery over the mortals that serve it.

 Something in the boy that will be Miraak aches to roar back.

 His mother’s amulet brushes his cheek, freed from the neckline of her shirt. It is carved of a single emerald, one eye half-hidden between two branching leaves. The eye looks at him steadily. (How soon a seed is planted.)

 The boy tugs impatiently against his mother’s arms.

 “I need to go,” he says, “I need –”

 He is aware of a distant, enormous sensation, somewhere in the place that knows without looking at the sun where the planets are, and how long it has been since he last looked. He is aware that something about this is important, terribly important, as if the world itself is waiting, waiting to see what he will do.

 Sina’s shoulders slump. (She has her own choice to make here. How she will pray that she did not.)

 “May the Woodland Man reveal the answers you seek,” his mother says, face buried in the loose tumble of the boy’s hair, “and when you are satisfied, She-Wolf guide you home.”

 (The boy will not remember this, but the eye of the gods opens on him.)

 Her arms loosen, just a little, and the boy tears himself free. He races up the path nimble as a mountain goat without a backward glance. The enormous feeling only grows stronger as the boy runs, until it begins to feel like he is being crushed under the soulful, silent weight of monumental purpose. He gasps for breath, but doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop even as he flies up the vast stone steps and into the thick iron doors. They creak open, only a little, and the boy throws the entire impatient weight of his child body against them again, and again, causing hollow booms to reverberate through the temple.

 (This temple will not even survive as a ruin. Its rocks will be torn apart, its iron doors melted down, its servants slaughtered. Nothing lasts forever. Bormahu-that-is-Alduin is always hungry.)

 “Who dares –      You?”    It is Frinaar who pulls the temple doors open, his face furrowing angrily into confusion, but the boy does not stop.

 He bowls past Frinaar, following the inexorable drumbeat of his soul, hardly knowing where he is going but not needing to as his feet follow the halls he has lived half his young life traversing. Frinaar is shouting behind him, at first loudly, then with increasing urgency, his robes flapping like dragon wings.

 Dragon wings. The boy sees them again, white as snowfall against the curve of the sky, and pivots on his foot, crashing out the door into the open courtyard where the dragon of the temple holds reign.

 The singing breaks off as the boy bursts in, and sudden silence drops sharp as a death-knell. Snow swirls about his eyes, but the boy can still see the great icy-blue form of a dragon crouching on the Wall that commemorates its greatness, a vast treasure of gold and gems spread out beneath its shading wings. The tribute of the temple.

 (How many fingers bled and bellies cramped for a master’s vanity this year? How little things change.)

 The boy has interrupted the ceremony.

 The dragon roars. “Why have you stopped?”

 Its voice is huge and rumbling, shaking the boy’s bones. (I won’t tell its name. The fate of this dragon is whispered in soft horror even amongst its scaled, cold-hearted brethren. There are some things simply too brutal to record, some fights too desperate to be remembered in the mind. The boy’s body will remember, though, and he will carry the scars of this dragon to his grave.)

 The choir looks at each other. (None of them will make it out alive.) The boy can see Jyric, moon-faced and trembling, staring at him like he is a daedra. (Maybe he is.) The dragon swings its great head and catches sight of the boy, a lone figure at the door. It leaps and lands with a crash that shakes the earth.

 (Is Bormahu-that-is-Akatosh even looking?)

 “Fool!” the dragon cries, “This is my temple! You will find no nest here!”

 The boy says nothing, seized in the grip of enormity. A choice is happening, vast and terrible, and he can feel it resounding down into his earbones, blocking out the dragon’s threat.

 (Is it his? Was any of it ever his choice at all?)

 Its head rears back as it draws in breath, and the choir scatters, diving nimbly out the way. The boy watches numbly, mind screaming to follow their suit as they have all practiced, but his body is still and firm. It knows, with granite certainty, that the boy can withstand the dragon’s Shout.

     “IIZ!”    The dragon roars, and ice barrels towards him. It strikes with the weight of a warhammer, and the boy staggers. But he remains standing, instinctively protecting his face with his arms. His hair is crusted into crystals, and ice cracks down his arms when he lowers them. They burn, distantly, with horrible pain.

 (Did it always have to end this way?)

 The dragon looks bewildered that the boy is not dead. The choir rustles as they slowly raise their heads. A shocked murmur runs through the courtyard. Some have frozen solid, unmoving lumps that quickly become dusted with the light snowfall, those that were huddling too close to the boy where he stands, garlanded with frost like a princeling at the epicentre of the blast.

 “I have to be here,” the boy says, “I-“ He struggles, wordless, for a way to convey the inexorable exhortations of his soul. “Take me with you. Burn me – claw me – but let me with you!”

 (We can’t stop this. It’s already happened.)

 He thinks of Sinawen, her hand tugging his, as if nothing is more natural in the world.  The strange pull – it has to be like what he has seen in his brother and sister. In the other children, who weep for their families, when the boy pretends he does not. He thinks of the words of his mother, how easily she folds him into her, as if there has been a place for him all this time, as if she has been waiting for him.

 The boy cries, helplessly, unable to name what he is feeling, the strange and intense kinship he feels to the dragon, the unbearable sense of loss when he thinks of that scar around that family table where a boy with a name like summer snows had once lived. Claw to claw, ice to ice, eye to sky. Is it love?

 (Maybe it even is, then. Is a boy a son because of flesh, or spirit? What about a boy whose heart is kissed by the dreadful Wheel of the Creator-Destroyer of Time? This boy has always had the look of his Bormah. He has the hunger, too.)

 The dragon pulls its head back again, but not to Shout, the boy knows, does not know how he knows. For a moment, there is no sound but the snow, soft as sighs on his shoulders. And then the dragon laughs, low and gravelly.

     “Geh,”    says the dragon. “Would that all took you as a guide for their service.”

 (Oh, they will. The boy will learn how little choice matters, will learn how to take it from his masters. He will teach this lesson on a firm Voice, and when they listen, and when they see, they will remember, because the boy is the son of his father, and there is no choice in orderly, eternal grind of the doom-driven.)

 The dragon lowers its head, amused, to regard the boy with one gleaming blue eye. Deep in its chest, it makes a strange clicking sound, ticking like a Dwemer time-piece. Then it snorts, and turns its great scaly body. Making for a tunnel cut into the cliff, its tail sweeps carelessly, nearly bowling over a dumbstruck Frinaar.

 “Come along, Miraak mal-sonaaki,” says the dragon, not looking back.

 (What is will, fate, if not another prison? This is a farce.)

 The boy hesitates for a moment, and then realises all at once that the dragon means      him.    He blinks, feels a small smile stretch his lips, wreathed in the warm glow of burgeoning confidence.

 (The mask this name gives him will become as part of him as his skin. It’s too late now. Fate has decreed that this boy’s hope must die to win his service.)

 Miraak runs after his master and feels each step ring with the hollow promise of fate. And though nothing simple has changed, for he is back in the temple and everything is right in his young world, he knows, blood-and-soul deep, that nothing is ever going to be the same again.

 (The gods are watching. Do you think they laugh?)

Gloss:

Bormahu - Our father. Dovahzul that when used by dragons means Akatosh, father of dragons. Also the Creator (Akatosh) and Destroyer (Alduin) of Time.

Woodland Man - Hermaeus Mora.

She-Wolf - Mara. God of love, handmaid to Kyne. 

Hawk-eyed Kyne - God of storms and sky. Compared to Kynareth. 

Whale god Stuhn - Warrior god of ransom, brother of Tsun. Compared to Stendar.

Owl-god Jhunal - God of wisdom, runes and mathematics. Compared to Julianos.

Frinaar - Eager Servant.

Miraak - Allegiance Guide. 

Mal - little or small. 

Sonaaki - my priest. 

Iiz - Ice.

[firstaidspray]

OC Tag - Song Challenge

step 1 →create your oc (or ocs) in this picrew

step 2 → list 5 songs that inspired (or capture the feel of) your oc. if you chose multiple, feel free to pick your favorite or do songs for all of ‘em! (and feel free to list fewer or more songs if you want)

I decided I wanted to redo this and put it under a readmore without the meanings lol, and do it for a couple more of my ocs because they have really really good playlists and I'd like to share some of that with you all. Even if you don't care. Too bad.

Reverie (The Righteous Gemstones)

1. Bitch by Meredith Brooks

I'm a bitch, I'm a tease / I'm a goddess on my knees / When you hurt, when you suffer / I'm your angel undercover / I've been numb, I'm revived / Can't say I'm not alive / You know I wouldn't want it any other way

2. She Talks To Angels by The Black Crowes

She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket / she wears a cross around her neck / yeah, the lock of hair is from a little boy / and the cross is someone she has not met / not yet

3. Halo by Soil

Bitter sins, how they grow within / so you tell me it ain't right / I am all sins / and you're my reason for life

4. Follow Me Down by The Pretty Reckless

Nights avoiding things unholy / your hand slips across my skin / I go down on you so slowly / don't confess none of your sins

5. Pain Lies on the Riverside by Live

I have forever, always tried / to stay clean and constantly baptized / I'm aware that the river's banks, they are dry / and to wait for a flood / is to wait for life

Juliette Chrysler (Vice Principals / Killing It)

1. Homecoming Queen by Hinder

A shame, shame, shame that our homecoming queen / had a lot to prove and so many to please / she's just somebody's daughter / just looking for somebody to love her

2. I Want You to Want Me by Letters to Cleo

I want you to want me / I need you to need me / I'd love you to love me / I'm begging you to beg me

3. #1 Crush by Garbage

Violate all my love that I'm missing / throw away all the pain that I'm living / you will believe in me / and I can never be ignored

4. Girl Next Door by Saving Jane

I get a little bit / she gets a little more / she's Miss America / and I'm just the girl next door

5. Brown Eyed Girl by Everclear

Now that the years gone by / yeah, now that I'm on my own / I saw you just the other day / oh my, baby you have grown

Dolly Dobson (The Devil's Rejects)

1. Be Yourself by Audioslave

Even when you've paid enough / been pulled apart / or been held up / every single memory of / the good or bad, faces of love / don't lose any sleep tonight / I'm sure everything will end up alright / you may win or lose

2. If You Could Only See by Tonic

Seems the road less traveled / shows happiness unraveled / and you got to take a little dirt / to keep what you love / that's what you gotta do

3. Letter to God by Hole

I've lost all self-esteem / by burying everything / and I feel nothing, nothing

4. Lady Picture Show by Stone Temple Pilots

She hides because she don't know nothin' / don't know nothin' anymore / she keeps a funny face / it's locked and bagged / it's just outside the door

5. Killpop by Slipknot

Will she ever find / one million of a kind? /it's cold and lonely / but that's because she told me / lost inside her dirty world / no one hurts this pretty girl but her

Gehenna (Hellraiser)

1. Gehenna by Slipknot

Free my severed heart / give me you / I want it / I don't wanna be myself

2. You've Seen the Butcher by Deftones

You slowly enter / 'cause you know my room / you crawl your knees off / and then you shake my tomb

3. Adrenalize by In This Moment

I crave excess, turning wine into sweat / dripping down my neck / I can't deny, I'd die without this / make me feel like a God, adrenaline and sex

4. Judith by A Perfect Circle

It's not like you killed someone / it's not like you drove a hateful spear into his side / praise the one who left you / broken down and paralyzed / he did it all for you

5. Ouija Board by Chevelle

Never say die unless you mean it / you're the salt of the earth left uneasy / right or wrong, if the world explodes / well you and I are one

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

AIGHT Y’ALL I wasn’t tagged but I’m doing this anyways because f u c k  i t

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

Deadasss weird as fuck, my dude. Like...out of all the things I could’ve predicted happening in our lord’s year 2021, it definitely was NOT getting hyperfixated on a hammy gay ship with a punk and a nerd from a goddamn karate soap opera. And yet...here we are??? I will never understand hyperfixations, my guy. But I’ve met a lot of really cool people in this fandom, so I can’t really complain.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

I have never seen a single Karate Kid movie in my entire life. When I was a kid, it looked kinda dumb so I never got into it XD But then I saw my roommate watching Cobra Kai on Youtube Red one day (he has every streaming service known to man) and I was hooked. And...here I am!

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:  

Literally EVERYONE except for Kreese, Yasmine, Kyler, and Tory, sorry stans

Okay but if we gotta pick, Johnny Lawrence is my Problematic Fave. Also I love my boy Daniel, he’s trying his best!!! And Amanda LaRusso, we stan a queen!!!

Among the kids, definitely Miguel, with Demetri as a close second. I also love Sam, Aisha, Moon, and Hawk (pre- and post-Bastardization Arc, anyways XD)!

Favorite ship:  

Take a look at my username and take a WILD FUCKING GUESS lmao Yes it’s Eli/Demetri because DUH, every interaction they have is so fucking gay and Eli fucking saved him!!! And came back to him!!! And betrayed the world’s most terrifying dojo with a WAR CRIMINAL SENSEI all for Demetri!!! And how Demetri was willing to forgive him for everything at the drop of a hat because he always had faith there was still good in his best friend??? That’s TRUE LOVE motherfuckers. Please let them kiss in Season 4. I will sell you all of my limbs. Sam/Miguel is a close second because they’re cute as shit and it’s just so lovely to see two people so unapologetically smitten with each other. They are in LOVE, and I will RIOT if they break up again!!! Keep Sam and Miguel together 2k21!!!

Underrated character:

SAMANTHA LARUSSO!!! The amount of hate my girl gets for acting like a normal teenager and fucking up occasionally JUST like the rest of the cast makes me want to start punching things. She cares SO MUCH about her friends!!! And she loves the shit out of Miguel!!! She hasn’t always been the best friend but you know what??? Neither has Hawk, and we still forgave his ass!!! Also LET HER BE FEMININE but also kick utter ass, my god!!! Femininity should not be synonymous with being weak, y’all! ALSO DEMETRI, like yes, he likes to complain and occasionally run his mouth, but guess what else he likes to do??? Never give up on the love of his life his best friend Eli Moskowitz and refuse to lose faith in him no matter how much of a little shit he’s become, and I for one think that’s very badass of him. Also the way he takes care of Eli pre-Cobra Kai in his own snarky bastard way makes me absolutely Weak and needs more appreciation. Like the dude has charisma and COULD have probably made other friends and left Eli behind if he wanted, but did he??? No, he wants the weepy loser with the lip scar in the polo shirts and dorky sweaters and will protect him as much as his wimpy ass is able!!!

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  

Among the adults, Daniel/Amanda!!! Like maybe I just don’t watch that much tv, but it seems kinda rare to me to see a happily married hetero couple, and it’s just nice to see a married couple who genuinely love each other and where there’s not like...lingering resentment or some shit. I feel like this ship gets overshadowed by Lawrusso a lot (which like--okay, fair!!! Daniel and Johnny do have a ridiculous amount of chemistry, and the gay undertones are undeniable, so I get it), and it makes me kinda sad. I do love Lawrusso, but I don’t like when Amanda has to get her heart broke for it to happen, you feel? Among the kids, honestly YasMoon. Like I really love the idea of Yasmine trying to better herself because of Moon’s influence on her and because Moon like...inspires her to be a better person, I guess? With their pretty strong friendship, it just makes more sense to me for Yasmine to get a redemption arc through Moon than through Demetri. ALSO girls DO often pull the whole “mean girl” shtick to cover up being closeted lesbians, and Moon IS canonically bi, so it could work!!! I just think this one could be a really interesting Friends to Lovers take, and could make a really nice coming-out arc for Yas. And MoonPiper too, honestly!!! Like they only got 5 seconds of screentime so I understand WHY it’s underrated, but I still love what we DID get and loved that there was a canon gay ship (even if only for 1 scene lmao). I’m really excited to potentially see more of them in Season 4!!! Please, I’m begging!!!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the Leg because it will always be deeply hilarious to me how Demetri took note of the first move Eli ever used on him and spent presumably weeks perfecting it OUT OF SPITE just to get him back with it at the soccer game MONTHS later. Just goes to show how OBSESSED Demetri is with Eli and their little karate rivalry which is just NOT straight, I’m sorry

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

There’s something so funny about this pretentious little fuck walking around in fancy suits once he becomes a #SuccessfulBusinessman, and still occasionally trying to do karate in a full-ass suit (take THAT, Tom Cole’s boba!!!) I’m also a big fan of how he looks in his gi with his little headband. Still killing that look as a 40-50-something!!!

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

Tbh I have still never seen a single Karate Kid movie (they took them off of Netflix, RIP), so...I don’t really care if they bring anyone else back??? I’m invested in the characters we already have in the show, I don’t need some rando from the movies to make a cameo to have a good time XD The only character I really wanted them to bring back was Ali, and they already did, so like...I’m good??? That’s all I really needed, I can die in peace now XD

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Basically any fluffy Elimetri scene, but 5 in particular: ~Miguel first meeting Eli and Demetri at the lunch table, and Eli looking at Demetri like he hung every goddamn star in the sky ~Demetri going off at a terrifying, “unhinged” karate sensei on the first day of Cobra Kai because he made fun of Eli’s lip and Demetri is not about that shit ~ELI STEALING DEMETRI’S NACHO AND SMIRKING AT HIM, LIKE EXCUSE ME SIR PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS HOMOSEXUAL IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ~Eli yanking Demetri onstage during Valley Fest to hold a board, and Demetri being visibly like...extremely turned on when Eli breaks said board ~ELI SAVING DEMETRI DURING THE CHRISTMAS FIGHT, ELI APOLOGIZING, DEMETRI AND ELI KICKING COBRA ASS TOGETHER AKSBDCUWYVCBU

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

I hope not! He’s kind of a funny meme character to pop up now and again but I don’t think he deserves a serious plotline when there are so many more interesting characters to follow.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

Miyagi-Do because Cobra Kai would eat me alive. Also I’d probably straight up get stuck and die in that cement mixer, if I even made it that far XD Besides, being salty that your friend who you have a crush on likes martial arts better than you and starting martial arts to impress them but also being too lazy to join anything TOO intense is a Big Mood and I am certainly not speaking from personal experience here, no sirree

What’s your training montage song?

"Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna for a weight-training and bicep-flexing montage, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons for a more intense punching-and-kicking-shit montage. I don’t know why this is, I just feel it in my heart.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

*Briefly panics because I don’t actually watch that much TV and most of the stuff I do watch is fantasy/sci fi shit that absolutely would not work for a CK crossover*

Hmmmm okay but ACTUALLY

You know what would be fucking funny as hell would be an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia crossover. Allow me to elaborate: ~The Gang goes to LA on vacation during the height of the Karate Dojo Wars. They literally can get barely anything done without all these goddamn karate-fighting teenagers getting in the way. ~They are all very annoyed by this. Even the most obscure of tourist attractions is eventually intercepted by karate fights. ~Mac tries to join Cobra Kai because he sees all this karate fighting on, and wants to unquestionably prove both his badassery and masculinity. Both Johnny and Kreese are like “Wtf are you doing here? Aren’t you like 30?” ~Mac gets a planet-sized crush on Johnny after all of 5 minutes and endlessly gushes to the gang about him. The gang mercilessly roast him about this and about how much of a pathetic loser with his life together in no way whatsoever Johnny sounds like. They proceed to have exactly 0 self awareness about this. ~The Waitress is in town visiting family or something, and Charlie is stalking her, as per usual. However, every time he’s about to go up and talk to her, a pack of battling Miyagi-Dos and Cobra Kais throwing punches and kicks everywhere blocks his path. One times, Mac is among one of these packs and Charlie is like “???? He didn’t get kicked out of that teen karate dojo yet???” ~Seeing how much the Kids These Days seem to like fighting, Charlie drops by a local high school to try and sell Fight Milk to the kids doing karate. Only Kyler and Brucks buy into it, and subsequently get the entire West Valley High wrestling team sick. Charlie is inevitably arrested, as Counselor Blatt thinks he’s selling the kids drugs. ~Dennis makes a plan to have sex with every hot chick he can in Los Angeles. He meets Ali on a dating app post-divorce, and inevitably tries to bang her. It doesn’t work. ~Frank crashes the rental car, and inevitably the gang ends up at one of Daniel’s dealerships. Dee quickly takes a liking to Daniel and is like “Watch, assholes--Imma homewreck this guy’s marriage.” She starts frequenting the dealerships to attempt to flirt with Daniel, until one day she walks in on him having sex with Johnny in a back room and she’s like “Is that the guy from Mac’s goddamn dojo?!?!” ~Dennis, of course, tries to sleep with Amanda. Amanda is not having it, and rebukes him in the most snarky, Amanda-esque way possible. Dennis is just like “Oh not AGAIN--the women in this goddamn diva city have too high of standards!” ~Later on, the gang is at the beach and Dennis spots the blonde lady he went out on an ill-fate date with, and decides to give it another shot--that is, until he sees her go up and kiss another woman and he’s like “IS THAT THE LADY FROM THE CAR DEALERSHIP??? STUPID-KARATE-KICK-COMMERCIAL’S WIFE?!? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.” ~Dee complains to Dennis about her lack of luck getting laid, and Dennis is just like “Oh come ON, is everyone in Los Angeles gay???” Smash cut to Hawk and Demetri having sex, Moon and Piper making out, Bert and Nate holding hands, Chris and Mitch doing oral, and Amanda, Ali, and Carmen having a threesome. ~Frank tries to scam Kreese into buying cheaply-made karate equipment for his dojo. The gang ends up having to leave LA because Kreese is quite literally plotting all of their murders.

For tagging, uuuuhhhhhh @jackonthelongwalk @soe-leo @max-eagle-fang @cc-tinslebee @backawayfromthegay @asphodel-storm do the thing, if y’all haven’t yet!

[honoredbastard]

02.            remember?

       char. s. gojou & m. whisper. feel free to believe it as a f!reader.         cw. blood techniques, suggestive themes, & manga spoilers.                            [ more gross writing <3 ]   

tags: @fuckeisuke @candycanssweetlife @forever-war​ @onepotatostand-blog​​

is it selfish to delude yourself of the fact a god likes you. whether you’re a mere mortal, a devil, a grain of salt. is it selfish? that you both have your skin clashing together, an intimate act between to that level each other on the same playing field for however they can last.

kisses that range from your stomach to your jaw. the god touching each and every part of you liked you were something straight out of a fantasy. is it wrong to indulge yourself in such an act?

you weren’t aware of the logics behind it. you were just trying to ride it out, ignore the idea of god and devil. you were finding a reason to accept the idea of him reaching and exposing your deepest parts of yourself without care.

but you couldn’t. you stopped, grabbing your stuff and got dressed. leaving a confused deity, the chosen one, in a love motel bed with it’s sinful arousal. you were seething with self-loath that you were drunk enough to believe it was okay to sleep with him.

“did he leave?” whisper asked curiously, wiping the previous ‘tears’ she used to pull off gojou’s advances. opening the door just enough, she saw the pile of books, they were stacked and there was no sight or presence of the problem. she made her previous blood scythe duller and scooted the books over with haste. “c’mere...”

she was a bit short so when they reached the door she stepped up to grab the books until she was interrupted by the man she was seeking to not find. “hi~” “god.” she scoffed, clenching her books and throwing the door close. aside, there was no slam. “fairy-san.” “asshole-san!~” she mocked, her lips tried to hide her frustration. biting into her cheeks. 

“you wouldn’t close the door on a friend would you?” “can you not act familiar with me? we’re just jujutsu sorcerers. woopity do. i-” she cut herself off, glaring at the man before slamming the books on her bed. “i was just friends with suguru.” she managed before sliding off the coat she was wearing.

rushing past gojou who was keeping the entrance open with his foot. “hm.” gojou ‘watched’ as her cursed energy got further and further away. “is she going to talk to yaga?” he asked himself with a curious tone before he got an itch to be nosey. “i wonder what books she was reading.” sliding his blindfold off, he walked into her dorm without further question.

sliding them out so all titles could be seen. blood technique skills, blades, enchantia, the list went on. what did she need all of these for? some of these books were banned. how did she get them? he stared with squinted eyes, cursed energy residue remained on some. “what are you up to?” she was a grade one sorcerer that had little troubles fighting special grades. what was she trying to reach?

“HAHA. Yaga you must be joking! I shouldn’t be teaching students, I can barely teach myself! You already have a special grade sorcerer, the strongest, the chosen one; Satoru Gojou on this! They’ll be fine!” Her voice rang throughout the dim lit area. 

The man whom she was yelling at was patiently knitting a cursed doll, using the thread to infuse his technique. “Makil.” “Don’t.” Yaga drew a breath through his nose, “Whisper. I know you’re still upset with Suguru’s death. But you have to-” “Upset? Bullshit. I’m not upset, I’m perfectly fine!”

Yaga let go of his doll that was not moving, his hands balled into fist until the slammed down onto the wood where he sat. His voice loud and clear, startling even Whisper. “YOU ARE NOT FINE, WE KNOW THIS MAKIL! YOU FLINCH EACH TIME SUGURU IS BROUGHT UP AND YOU EVEN BROUGHT BANNED BOOKS ABOUT REHIN INTO MY SCHOOL. YOU WERE ONCE MY STUDENT AND SO WAS HE.” 

He slowly got up, his footsteps hard and heavy. “Makil, it’s in the past. You can no longer see Suguru. You can no longer see the man you once loved and you cannot try to shove it down by blaming Satoru. As much as he is hated he’s loved 10x harder. He, right now too is upset. Struggling even. What I need you to do is help these students grow. They’re loveable and remind me of you four when you all were my students.”  

His eyes bore into Makil’s, she shivered at it. She was’t blaming Satoru, right? No, he was something she couldn’t reach - there was no point in blaming him. She was never blaming him, she was just confused. She had no right to be friendly with something she found annoying.

“Please, Makil. I am begging you.” Yaga grabbed both of her arms, tears streaming down her face. “Ah? Haha, what? This can’t be real, right?” “It’s real, in everything. But right now I need you and Rehin to do the best you can and help these students. Especially Yuji Itadori. I’m sure Gojou will take you to see the other two. But do not mention that the vessel is alive. Got it?”

“Got it.” “Good, he’ll have his grand entrance at the kyoto battle.” “Ha? THAT’S LIKE FOUR DAYS AWAY?” Yaga wiped away Makil’s tears that stained her cheeks. “I know, I’ll give you information on each student. Just bare with me.”

quite curious who this rehin can beeeeeeeee this writing is booooooooooobooooooooooooooo

[bndz]

(normani kordei, twenty-two, cisfemale, she/her) * hey, i’m looking for the office of adrianna king. they’re the intern who’s known around the office as the airhead, if that helps? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re humorous but talkative, is that true? i also heard that they’re the one who brought her pet fish to work. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

&  i’m  back  at  it  again  with  another  character  !  it  me  ,  tay  !  i  have  another  child  &  her  name  is  adri  .  she’s  my  bubbly  little  baby  &  i  love  her  chatty  ass  down  !  i  have  some  points  about  her  below  &  i  am  so  excited  that  i  got  to  bring  her  here  .  tw  :  religion  ,  homophobia  ,  toxic  parents  &  mentions  of  physical  violence  .

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔  !

NAME   :    adrianna  king  . NICKNAMES  :  adri  . GENDER   :   cisfemale  . PRONOUNS   :   she  /  her  /  hers  . AGE   :   twenty-two  (  22  ) BIRTHDAY   :   23  september  . ZODIAC   :   libra  . HOMETOWN  :  miami  ,  florida  . CURRENT  RESIDENCE  : new york city  , new york  . ETHNICITY   :   african-american  . SEXUAL ORIENTATION   :   bisexual  . OCCUPATION  :   intern  .  (  the  art  department  ,  but  more  so  visual  art  )

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅  !

FAMILY   :  born  &  raised  in  the  city  of  miami  ,  adri  grew  up  in  a  household  that  was  highly  religious  .  her  family  was  heavily  involved  in  the  church  with  her  mother  also  being  a  pastor  herself  .  because  of  this  ,  her  parents  were  very  strict  &  super  controlling  .  they  monitored  almost  everything  surrounding  adri  since  she  was  their  only  child  ,  trying  to  prevent  anything  they  deemed  negative  &  wrong  to  consume  their  daughter  .  

this  caused  for  adri  to  at  first  obey  them  because  she  was  a  child  ,  but  as  she  reached  her  teenage  years  she  saw  how  toxic  her  parents  could  actually  be  .  they  were  the  definition  of  religious  hover  parents  &  it  was  slowly  starting  to  cause  adri  to  resent  them  .  they  would  spend  hours  lecturing  her  if  she  wore  something  they  thought  was  inappropriate  .  they  would  call  her  names  &  say  she  was  being  fast  for  her  age  .  they  would  tell  her  she  was  going  to  go  to  hell  if  she  didn’t  listen  to  the  word  of  god  .  

it  all  came  to  blows  when  adri  was  figuring  out  her  sexuality  .  all  her  life  she  was  told  that  liking  the  same  sex  was  wrong  ,  but  she  was  having  feelings  for  the  same  sex  .  at  first  she  felt  internalized  homophobia  ,  but  as  she  started  to  grow  into  her  own  person  &  renounce  the  teachings  that  were  drilling  into  her  head  ,  she  started  to  accept  herself  .  she  knew  that  her  parents  were  going  to  condemn  her  ,  so  she  didn’t  ever  plan  on  coming  out  until  she  moved  out  .  sadly  ,  her  father  did  a  random  check  of  her  phone  &  found  texts  that  she  didn’t  delete  to  a  girl  she  was  dating  at  the  time  .  it  was  literally  a  shit  show  in  the  king  household  .  slaps  &  many  sessions  of  trying  to  pray  the  gay  away  later  ,  adri  had  to  pretend  as  though  she  was  not  bisexual  .  she  had  to  break  up  with  her  girlfriend  &  was  removed  from  public  school  to  be  home  schooled  at  sixteen  .   to  say  she  hated  her  parents  was  an  understatement  .  

as  the  years  went  on  ,  adrianna  was  counting  down  the  days  until  she  could  be  off  to  college  .  during  her  senior  year  she  applied  to  the  furthest  schools  from  miami  .  she  had  to  beg  her  parents  to  let  her  attend  an  out  of  state  college  ,  but  because  her  act  at  home  was  convincing  ,  they  allowed  her  to  stay  with  her  aunt  in  new  york  to  attend  college  .  they  were  still  going  to  be  as  controlling  as  ever  ,  but  it  was  a  step  closer  towards  freedom  .

SCHOOL   :  adrianna  attended  hofstra  university  &  majored  in  art  .  while  she  was  in  grade  school  ,  adrianna  gravitated  towards  painting  because  it  was  the  best  way  for  her  to  get  what  she  was  feeling  out  .  attending  college  was  the  best  thing  for  her  .  although  her  aunt  was  as  strict  &  religious  as  her  parents  ,  she  used  college  as  a  way  to  wild  out  .  she  was  sneaking  out  easier  because  her  aunt  worked  overnight  shifts  as  an  rn  .  she  was  enjoying  the  ounce  of  freedom  that  she  had  even  if  her  family  was  on  her  neck  24  /  7  .  she  had  a  lot  of  pressure  to  graduate  &  get  a  job  ,  so  that  she  could  live  on  her  own  &  she  knew  that  the  arts  wasn’t  the  best  major  to  find  a  joke  as  quickly  as  she  wanted  .  but  graduation  came  quick  &  adri  was  literally  scrambling  .

MASTER’S  :  after  college  ,  adri  was  literally  running  all  over  nyc  trying  to  look  for  a  job  .  it  took  her  months  to  finally  land  a  job  interview  at  master’s  &  she  honestly  thought  she  flopped  .  when  she  got  the  position  as  an  intern  she  was  literally  over  the  moon  .  she  absolutely  loves  working  at  master’s  &  she’s  hoping  she  can  move  up  the  ranks  .  being  that  she’s  new  at  the  position  ,  she’s  trying  her  best  to  fit  in  &  get  things  done  in  a  timely  manner  .  she  does  struggle  a  bit  because  it’s  her  first  big  girl  job  ,  but  she’s  working  on  it  day  by  day  .

����𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚  !

BUBBLY   :  you  could  easily  describe  her  as  someone  that  lights  up  the  room  with  her  smile  alone  .  adrianna  is  super  cheerful  &  very  positive  majority  of  the  time  .  she  has  a  hint  of  pep  in  her  voice  that  almost  sounds  like  she  talks  with  a  smile  &  she  usually  does  .  she  just  loves  to  talk  &  interact  with  others  .

FLIRTATIOUS  :  due  to  her  personality  ,  adrianna  is  naturally  friendly  &  flirtatious  .  she  will  flirt  with  ya  boo  &  it  won’t  even  be  intentional.  that’s  just  who  she  is  .  some  may  call  her  a  thottie  because  she  does  live  her  best  hot  girl  life  ,  but  she  truly  does  not  care  .  she  does  what  she  wants  because  she’s  poppin’  !  (  see connections  for  some  mess  surrounding  this  trait  )

TALKATIVE   :  honestly  ,  she  will  never  shut  up.  she  talks  very  fast  &  says  a  lot  &  it  can  also  be  alot  .  she  just  loves  to  talk  y’all  .  she  will  talk  anybody’s  ear  off  who  will  listen  .  she  can’t  help  it  .

DITZY   :   def’  has  her  moments  where  she’s  super  lost  .  it  takes  her  a  few  seconds  to  understand  jokes  sometimes  &  can  def’  lose  her  train  of  thought  as  well  .  she  can  be  a  little  dumb  ,  but  she’s  just  all  over  the  place  .  somebody  help  her  ,  please  ! 

in  general  she’s  like  a  bimbo  ,  but  not  to  the  worst  degree  .  she’s  v  aware  &  just  has  her  moments  .  she  doesn’t  like  when  people  try  to  be  condescending  towards  her  because  of  her  personality  ,  so  she  can  get  a  little  defensive  &  snappy  when  pushed  to  that  degree  .  it  takes  her  a  lot  to  snap  ,  so  i  doubt  she  will  be  popping  off  unless  she  is  truly  offended  .  she’s  also  not  that  confrontational  ,  but  if  she  has  to  defend  herself  ,  she  will  .  (  she  lowkey  can  get  creative  tbh  )  she’s  just  here  to  befriend  people  ,  okay  !

𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔  !

001  .  enemies  .  i  feel  like  because  she’s  genuinely  nice  it  would  have  to  be  a  huge  reason  for  her  to  dislike  someone  .  so  ,  pick  your  poison  . 002  .  friends  with  benefits  .  we  always  love  these  ,  don’t  we  ?  she’s  with  all  the  shits  ,  okay  .  head  hot  girl  at  your  service  ! 003  .  exes  .  not  to  be  that  garbage  bag  ,  but  i’m  pretty  positive  adrianna  probably  cheated  on  all  of  her  exes  due  to  boredom  .  she  is  someone  that  needs  change  in  her  life  bc  of  how  she  was  treated  at  home  .  if  she  feels  stagnant  ,  she  will  just  pull  some  bs  like  cheating  &  move  on  to  the  next  .  truly  her  biggest  flaw  &  someone  gotta  smite  her  ass  for  this  fr  ! 004  .  besties  .  someone  give  her  a  baddie  bff  pls  ! 005  .  a  work  boo ��.  v  self  explanatory  . 006  .  a  muse  .  since  adri  likes  to  paint  ,  this  could  be  someone  that inspires  her  artwork  or  even  let’s  her  paint  them  on  occasion  . again  ,  i  am  terrible  at  thinking  of  connections  ,  so  i’m  down  for  all  the  plots  !

𝒇𝒖𝒏  𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔  !

001  .  she  is  type  one  diabetic  . 002  .  is  a  huge  bad  bunny  stan  . 003  .  a  bratz  doll  collector  . 004  .  is  into  art  &  loves  to  paint  . 005  .  her  guilty  pleasure  is  watching  bad  girls  club  . 

[marvel-chubbybucky-hoe]

Ungrateful?

Hey there :) Just randomly found your blog and I would die for some Loki x Reader fluff/angst written for me. Like maybe Loki takes the Human!Reader with him to Asgard to live there. But the longer they live there, the more the Reader misses Midgard. You know, like the Reader tries really hard to feel home in Asgard, but just is quite homesick. So they are in a romantic relationship for a while now and Loki tries to make it better for the Reader. I hope I explained it understandably xD I actually tried writing this today, but kind of failed, maybe I´ll try in a few days again, but I would love to read your version, because I need this scenario! So: It would be so kind if you would write something for me ^^ ~Ash 

Relationship: Loki Laufeyson / Reader

Tags: angst, fluff, angst to fluff, feelings, self doubt, guilt, shapeshifting, Thor and Loki are your typical siblings, reader is harsh on herself, dating Loki, Loki is the sweetest, Loki being cute

Words: 3892

A/n: I honestly don’t know why this took me so long. I was out of wifi for a little and had to take care of my dog (he got vaccinated and felt a little down :( ) But here it is. I hope you like it. Loads of love 

Loki had met you after Thor convinced him that Midgardians were fun to be around when drunk and furthermore Thor was concerned for Loki. The god of mischief has never before been so quiet. Frigga had begged for Odin to release her son from prison, because she was worried for him. The Allfather agreed, although reluctantly, but Loki had kept to himself.

He was scared of returning to Midgard after he attacked the planet while under the influence of the mind stone. Thor comforted him and promised to stay by his side and even though he would never admit this, Loki felt reassured.

While on Midgard, Loki felt people stare at him, heard the whispers and saw the scared looks on people’s faces. He was embarrassed, but Thor’s booming voice distracted him. 

You were on of Jane’s interns and welcomed Loki with open arms, slightly drunk. After Jane slapped him, you stumbled over to him and hugged him “Don’t hit him, he looks so sad”, you yelled and pouted at him.

And ever since that day Loki’s infatuation with you started to grow and developed into love eventually. He became happier and healthier and finally asked you to join him on Asgard. You were ecstatic to join your love on his home planet.

And it was great. The Asgardians treated you kindly and you were in love with the architecture and culture. The best thing of course, was the vast amount of time you could spend with Loki. He let you in on his mind, his fears and his past, which led you to angrily yelling at Odin until Frigga gently pulled you away. You cried into her arms while she guided you back to Loki’s chamber.

Your prince engulfed you and Frigga in a hug and let you let all your emotions out. You looked up at him and put your had on his cheek “I will never let anyone hurt you ever again” Loki looked back down at you and had to hold back tears, putting his hand over yours.

After your outburst, Odin felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Seeing Loki being fully loved and the positive influence it has on his mental health made him realize his mistakes in raising and parenting his younger son.

Odin has since tried to slowly regain Loki’s trust and rebuild their relationship. Loki didn’t show it openly, but he told you how excited he is over finally making his father proud. 

And everything had been great, really, until you suddenly felt numb. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something was off. It took you a while to figure out, but when you were out with Sif and you swooned about Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic and were met with a face of confusion, that you realized you were homesick.

It made you feel so guilty. Loki brought you here out of love, he poured out his heart for you and what did you do? You were an ungrateful brat that wanted to return to earth .You felt so horrible that you couldn’t even look into Loki’s eyes.

Instead, you spend most of your time in the palace garden crying your eyes out. You missed your old apartment, and the smell of fresh baked cinnamon rolls from the bakery downstairs. You missed your little uncomfortable bed and your teddy, the view out of your window and your movie collection. 

When you returned to the palace and saw Loki again, you had tears pooling in your eyes again out of guilt. He would come towards you and gently presses his lips to your temple and smile at you “I’m so happy you’re here, my Queen”, he’d whisper like he did every evening. You sat down with him and his hand never left your thigh. 

You managed to stop your tears for eight more days, before you excused yourself from the table to run for your favourite bench to cry. That’s were you find yourself now, sobbing into your hands in your Asgardian robe. You hear footsteps behind you and tense, dreading the conversation that is surely going to ensue. 

“My queen?”, Loki asks, his voice quiet and scared. His tone makes you whimper. All you had been doing lately was making your beautiful boyfriend scared and sad. You are a horrible girlfriend. Instead of supporting him, you are bringing him down out of your own selfishness. 

Loki sits down next to you and gently takes your hands into his. “Please, tell me what has been bothering you? I cannot stand to see you this miserable”, he pleads with you. You take a shuddering breath and look up at him “I’m sorry, my prince, so, so sorry”, you begin to sob again, “I never meant for this to happen! Please forgive my selfishness”

A sigh comes from him and he puts an arm around your shoulders, “My love, you don’t need to apologize for your feelings, however I wish to help you. Please enlighten me what is darkening your beautiful mind?” You continue to cry into your hands “It’s just…”, you look at him, “I miss home and I’m so sorry. You give me everything and I can’t even appreciate you properly!” His embrace usually brings you comfort, but now it only serves to deepen your guilt.

You bury your face in your hands once more “ I’m so horrible, such a bad girlfriend. I’m so sorry!”  Loki is shocked by your words. He knew something was bothering you, he’d be a terrible boyfriend if he didn’t, but that you were feeling so low made his heart ache. 

Loki pulls you closer to him and snakes his arms around your waist “My queen, you should have told me. It was never my intention to make you sad like this. If you desire to return to earth, I will let you go, not that you need my permission” Your head shoots up “No! You’re what makes me happy. I could never be happy without you. This must be some phase, maybe it’s the weather. Yeah, that’s it! This will be over soon, my prince I promise. I should lay down.” You stand up and kiss Loki, before smiling at him, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine”

Loki sits on the bench dumbfounded, watching your retreating figure. He scoffed. After this encounter he will obviously worry about you. And what he is going to do might not be his proudest moment, but he will surely do everything in his power to find out how he can help you. 

That’s how he finds himself transformed as Fandral. You and him had quickly developed a friendship, surprisingly enough. Loki was sure he can get to the root of your problem in this form. He quickly struts towards your shared chamber and knocks politely.

„Lady Y/n? Are you in there?“, he hollers. After a few seconds, you answer „I am, come in Fandral“ Loki enters, sees you sitting on the bed and cocks his head towards the space next to you. “Yes, of course, sit please“, you mumble, a nervous habit of yours. Loki sits next to you and places a hand on your knee. You look at him and see his compassionate eyes and know that you can trust him. “I saw you running off on Loki earlier. Are you okay?“

You sigh. “I’m just so homesick. I miss being on earth and being surrounded by people who understand society the same way as me“, you glance at Fandral “no offence“ Loki smiles at you,“none taken, but maybe you should specify what you miss exactly?“ You rub your hands over your thighs slowly,“I miss my movies, my apartment, human cooking, the culture, you know?“

Loki sheepishly grins „I don’t, but I guess that’s the issue, huh?“ You shoot him a look „Fandral! I trust you with my problems and all you do is this?“, you exclaim, but can’t fend off a smile. He shrugs and smiles, while ruffling your hair, “That’s what I do, Lady Y/n“

After a while, Loki exits your chambers and rushes towards a quiet place to shift back to his original form as Loki. He was now aware of what had been bothering you so much and a loose plan is already forming in his head, but he would need Thor’s help. He knew more about Midgardians than Loki, so he would surely have an answer.

He walks towards the dining hall, hoping his family was still around and bumped into the God of Thunder on his way. “Brother, what leads you to running around like you’re fleeing from this realm’s fury?“, he chuckles and slings an arm over Loki’s smaller frame. “I need your help, brother. It concerns Lady Y/n’s well being.“, the younger prince discloses.

Thor halts to look at Loki, who is looking at him desperately. “Well, what is it, then?“ Loki tells the story to Thor, who looks to be in deep thought. After a moment, the older one grins, “I’ve got it. We should visit Midgard.. We can go to Lady Y/n’s old apartment and grab some of her valuables. Maybe it’ll make her feel better!“.

And that’s what they do. They meet up with Jane who gives Loki the key to your apartment. “Tell her that I love her, yes?“, she smiles, before Thor and her take off. Loki makes his way to your flat and pauses at the door. Hopefully, he’ll find enough to make you happy again. He puts the key in the hole and turns it to enter.

The first thing his eyes fall upon are some of your old coats. He reaches out to touch the fabric. It’s thick and sturdy and must surely keep one warm. He takes it off the rack and fold it into a bag he brought. Loki moves further into your home and walks into the kitchen. You mentioned you missed the Midgardian food, so he rummages through your cupboards until he finds a cooking book.

He opens it and some yellowish handwritten recipes fall out. They must have been from your ancestors. Loki reads over them quickly. There’s apple pie, a veggie lasagna, cheesecake among others. They must hold a special place in your heart, if you’re still keeping them. He puts the recipes back into the book and places it into the bag. He’ll have to buy some ingredients for the Asgardian chefs, so they can cook these recipes.

He continues to wander through your apartment and find himself in your living room. On the shelf are pictures that show you and different people. One shows you as a toddler, grinning toothily on a man’s lap, probably your father. Loki smiles at the picture. You were a cute child and he was happy your father seemed to love and care for you. He puts this and few other pictures in the bag.

His gaze falls on a stack of movies an cds. Right, he should get you some. You often talked about these so called ‘classics’, so  he browses through them and looks for titles that seem familiar. He ends up with Titanic, Groundhog Day and The Shining, because he vaguely remembers you talking about them. He randomly grabs some more – he can’t help but shake his head at some of the titles, like seriously what kind of name is Willy Wonka – and puts them in the bag.

On his way to your bathroom he also takes a fluffy warm blanket with him. Your bathroom is small and Loki can’t help, but laugh at the rubber duck that’s sitting in your sink. He picks it up and raises it to his face to inspect it. He squeezes it and immediately drops it after it makes a squeaking noise. He glares at the duck and taps it with his boot, before he reluctantly picks it up again and puts it in his bag.

The bathroom doesn’t hold anymore things Loki deems worthy, but a bottle of perfume which makes him remember your smell when you first met. A mixture of lemon, flowers and sweat that he hasn’t realized he missed so badly. Loki then sashays into your bedroom, the memory filling him with child like joy. Upon entering your chamber, he stops to an abrupt halt and holds his breath. The room has your name written all over it. He feels like he’s trespassing into a sacred temple. After he let his eyes roam he lets out the breath he has been holding and rolls his shoulders.

Your old bed catches his attention. It is made just like you do it to your shared bed on Asgard. He lays down on it and breathes in the barely noticeable scent of you and rubs over the bed sheets with his hands. Suddenly, tears are gathering in his eyes and before he can stop them, they are falling down his cheeks. He didn’t notice how much your sadness had been bringing him down.

You are the love of his life and the thought of you, so lifeless and sad makes his heart ache. He cannot lose you. Oh lord, does he hope his little adventure will pay off. He just wants you to be happy again. Loki breathes your scent in deeply, before he wipes away his tears and sits up determined to bring your joy back.

He is about to jump into action when his eyes meet the two button eyes of a brown teddy. It has open arms and a heart on his chest that reads 'press me’. Loki reaches for the bear and follows the instructions, “Hi, I’m Pongo and I already know we’ll be the best of friends”, the teddy says. Loki watches the stuffed toy suspiciously, but then sees you hugging the bear and talking to him and he lets out a giggle. You truly are adorable.

The bear lands in the bag and Loki searches for more of your things. He finds a photo album of you and Jane on your desk. He looks through the pages and stops at a picture of you kissing Jane with a bottle of Midgardian alcohol in your hand. Loki can’t help but playfully shake your head, he had rarely seen you so carelessly. The album also goes in the bag, along with some of your clothes he likes – especially the lingerie – a poster, your guitar and some technological things (“it’s a play station”, you later clarify). He also find some seeds that you’ll maybe have fun with planting and caring for.

He looks through your flat again to see if he missed something and smiles confidently when he doesn’t find anything. He disguises himself as a Midgardian to buy the ingredients necessary for your recipes, before he meets up with Thor and Jane.

“Did you find everything you need?”, she asks. “Yes, I think so. However, I thought I wouldn’t see you again so soon, Lady Jane” Thor laughs at his brother and pulls him to his side, “Jane will join us for a little. We thought Lady Y/n might enjoy to see her again”. Loki thinks about that and nods, “That’s true. Good thinking, brother. I cannot believe I get to see such a miracle with my own eyes” A smirk flashes on the younger god’s face. Thor gracefully ignores the insult and instead hollers for Heimdall to take them back.

The bifrost brings them back safely. “Thor, Loki, Lady Jane, welcome on Asgard”, Heimdall’s voice sounds deep and calm as usual. Thor nods at the gatekeeper and turns to Loki, “Jane and I will go find Lady Y/n. You may execute your wishes in regard of what you have planned for your dame” Loki nods, but cannot help but roll his eyes at his brother. Like he actually needed his permission. He does however pursue his plan.

The sun is already setting when you return to your chamber. You spent the day with Jane and Thor. You missed her greatly and you had a lot of catching up to do, but you had a blast with the couple. However, seeing how loved up they are and how they were always touching or staring into each others eyes made you realize how much you also missed Loki. You shut him out, because you thought you were homesick, but seeing Thor and Jane made you understand that your prince was actually what you missed when you continued to feel worse.

When you enter your bedroom, you expect to see Loki laying on your bed. Instead you see Pongo, your old teddy sitting on his pillow. You smile and hug the toy, when you notice a note on his back. It was sticking to the fur, but you managed to get it off just fine.

My dear Y/n,

I know you have been feeling rather poorly, so I planned this evening to hopefully make you feel better. You are an impeccable woman, my Queen, and whenever something concerns you, I have an insatiable desire to make you feel elated, as you deserve to be. I am the most fortunate man in all the nine realms to have you by my side. If you are willing to see me, find me at your favourite tree in the royal garden.

PS There are some clothes in the wardrobe you might appreciate.

In love,

Loki

You are smiling at the end of his letter and open the wardrobe where you see many of your old clothes, hung neatly next to your Asgardian ones. You change into some comfortable leggings and a comfortable baggy sweater and immediately rush to the magnificent weeping willow near the back of the garden, Pongo secure in your arms. The branches fall gracefully towards the ground and the nearby lake is shimmering in a golden glow. You reach out to move the leaves and step into the secluded area under the tree. A sight you never dreamed of seeing awaits you.

Loki sits on a fluffy blanket, definitely the one your grandma gifted you on Christmas some years ago, a basket is next to him and the air smells of delicious food, it’s familiar, but you can’t point your finger at it. Your boyfriend smiles at you lovingly and stands up to grab your free hand, “My Queen, you made it”

You look him in the eye to try and find an answer, “Loki, what is all this?” He guides you to sit on the blanket and blushes. “You’ve been feeling so low and I could not bear to see you like this, so I may have taken on Fandral’s form to find out how I could console you.” You raise an eyebrow at him and he shrugs with a sheepish smile on his face, “and then Thor and I traveled to Midgard and Jane gave me a key to your old home and I tried to bring you some of your valuables that might make you happy again. You used to e so cheerful and I desire to give you a feeling of elation”

You stare at him blankly. “Y/n, are you alri-”, he starts, but you cut him off with a hug, “That’s so nice of you and a little creepy, for just going through my stuff, but I know you meant well”, you take his face between your face, “but we’ll talk about this later. Now, I just want you to kiss me, my prince”

With your eyes closed you lean in and press your lips to his gently. His cold lips move with yours in sync and his hands move to your hips to pull you closer. You keep the kiss sweet and Loki sighs into the kiss eventually. “I love you, my Queen”, he whispers against your lips. You smile and open your eyes to find him looking at you. Your forehead meets his and you grin, “I love you too, my prince”

After a minute or so, Loki pulls away and takes one of your hand in his larger one and presses a kiss on your wrist, before he turns to the basket, “I hope you’re hungry, my Queen” You try to look into the basket, but Loki’s body blocks your view. After a moment he lays down a veggie lasagna that look suspiciously like your grandfather’s. You gasp and smile brightly.

“You brought my cooking books?” Loki plates two pieces and smiles, “You mentioned you missed the cuisine, so I thought you might enjoy this” You hum and kiss his cheek, “You’re the best”

You silently enjoy the food and being in your boyfriend’s company. You’re still in awe of how much Loki has done to make you feel better. After you finished, Loki takes out your great aunts cheesecake. “So… desert?”, he asks and you gape at him. He puts the cake down and takes out some of your movies, “or do you want to head inside to view one of these?” You open and close your mouth a few times before you grab the basket and look into it.

You find your play station, your Titanic poster, some of your seeds, some family photos and your pressed wool coat. “I also brought your guitar and your perfume”, Loki adds to your discovery. Tears start to pool in your eyes and you throw yourself at him and bury your face into his neck. “Thank you so much, Loki. This means a lot to me”. He hugs you to him and rubs your back softly. “Anything for you, my Queen”

You showed Loki 'The Notebook’ that evening and you both cried a little, not that Loki would admit to it, and now you’re laying on his chest and draw circles into his chest hair. “You know, seeing Jane today and hearing her talk about life back on earth, I realized that I didn’t actually miss earth. I just missed an idealized version of earth.”, you tell your boyfriend. “How do you mean?”

“I guess I started to miss Jane and then I thought about our memories which I then compared to similar things on Asgard. And I guess I just preferred things how I learned them to be, when I actually prefer Asgard. Most people here are kinder and form a community and there’s significantly less hate among the people. I feel right at home here”, you state and look to Loki to gauge his reaction. He smiles.

“I’m happy you feel that way, my queen, but why didn’t you tell me?” You sigh. “When I realized I missed earth I felt so guilty, because you do so much for me and I felt like I was disappointing you. I now realize that my feelings are valid and that I can talk to you. I’m sorry” Loki gently swipes your hair out of your face, “Hey, don’t be sorry for your feelings and acting irrationally because of them. I’ve been there before”, he says which makes you giggle.

“But seriously, please always remember you can talk to me. You are the most important person in my life and I never want to lose you”, he whispers vulnerably. “I promise I’ll talk to you in the future”, you answer and pull him down to kiss you.

“I love you, my Queen”

“I love you too, my prince”

[tloujm]

Part VIII: Heady

Author’s Notes: This takes place directly after the end of the previous chapter, timeline wise. As mentioned below, this is gonna be smut in the form of makeup sex. I wanted to do something different and make it more realistic? Not all sexual experiences are perfect, even in fiction, no matter how hard we try for it to be. I know fanfic is where we go to live our fantasies, but sometimes when I read fanfic, it feels too unrealistic. Like, the plot is too perfect. I want an off canon AU but at the same time, I still want some type of conflict or drama. That being said, I am going to reiterate that I am not an expert at writing smut. I still tried to give it a happy ending, but I didn’t want all of my smut scenes to seem cookie cutter or copy and paste.

Genre: Smut with a smidge of angst

Summary: You and Joel reunite...sexually ( I know, I’m corny but its a reference to Wendell from a Key and Peele skit)

Ship: Joel x Reader

Joel’s beard brushed up against your chest when his lips left yours to give attention to your neck. It allowed you a moment to catch up. With the oxygen reaching your brain again, you began to register your surroundings. You’d become hyper aware of the fact that Joel was attacking your skin like a ravished being. He missed me that much, huh, you thought. You felt his hands slide from your waist to your hips before he gently pushed you backwards. You followed his lead until your ass was pressed up against a wall. You were exactly where he wanted you. His fingers bore into your clothed skin before he slid them back up to your waist. For a moment, he detached himself from your neck and gazed down at you. With a grunt, Joel lifted you up. Feeling your feet float off the ground caught you off guard, but not for long as your legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist. It was as if they had a mind of their own. No one had ever picked you up before. It was thrilling and nerve wracking at the same time. You were afraid of falling, but between being propped up against the wall and Joel’s hands on your ass, that wasn’t an option. As soon as you were secure, he kissed you again and there it went. The clarity was gone and your brain was once again caught in a haze. Joel wanted all of you and he wanted it all with you. After a while of making out, he realized that there was only so much he could do to you while clothed.

It’d been so long since the last time he was with you or anyone else for that matter. He had no desire to take up with someone else. He couldn’t move on from you. He thought about it, though. Whenever he would especially miss you and his own hands weren’t enough, he thought about finding somebody to be with just for the night. At one point, he thought that was the only way to get over you. Those ideas were quickly dismissed, however, for many reasons. Knowing that you were so close yet so far from his reach every single day was excruciating. He saw it as his punishment; he knew he deserved it. Part of him even thought that he didn’t deserve this moment right here with you. His body was convincing him otherwise, however. When you hugged him, it left him reeling. It damn near unraveled him right then and there. He needed you; there was no other way to put it.

Joel whispered that it was time to go upstairs. All you could do was nod in agreement. You loosened your legs and he gently let you down. Almost immediately, though, Joel slung you over his shoulder. Your ass was right next to his face and he gave it a playful slap before moving toward the stairs. You let out a squeal. He couldn’t see it, but a big ol’ grin was plastered on your face. Part of you was concerned about his back and shoulder, but he didn’t give any indication that he was in pain while trying to show out for you. You let yourself enjoy the ride until he threw you onto the bed. You giggled at the thrill of it all. For a moment, you let yourself take in the room of which you were in. It hadn’t changed a bit since the last time you slept in it. You missed it. 

You crawled to the edge of the bed and got up on your knees. Joel walked up to you as you lifted your shirt over your head. The way your breasts filled your bra was enticing to him. They were practically spilling out and he wanted nothing more than to release them. You felt his rough hand cup your face as he guided it up to meet his. The other hand snaked its way behind you to unclasp the bra. You felt the release and in one fell swoop, he placed his finger between your breasts and pulled the fabric down your arms. You pulled back to focus on his pants. You noticed the stiffness beneath his jeans and it was just sitting there tempting you. Joel let your fingers fumble around his fly because he was preoccupied with your breasts. They were single handedly his favorite body part on you. He was very appreciative of the rest of you, but it was when he got to be intimate with you did he allow himself to pick a favorite. It was something you were initially self conscious of because of stretch marks but he didn’t even mention them. He watched as they bounced and jiggled as your arms moved around his waist. Joel was brought out of his daze when he felt the air hit his freshly exposed skin. With his fly down, you ran your hands over his ass, bringing his pants down with them. You pushed them all the way down to his knees before looking back up to him. His eyes were already locked on yours. He continued to step out of his jeans before he approached you again. “You can touch me.” You finally said. His eyes flickered from yours down to your dark nipples, then back up to you. He quickly threw his t-shirt off and took one in each hand and began to knead them. His hands were rough and eager. That was the first time you’d seen him completely naked since last year. You reached up and cupped his face with both hands before bringing his lips between yours. “Joel” You breathed between kisses.

Joel was ready to be inside you, but he knew that there was more fun to be had first. He made a low grunt and gestured with his head for you to move back onto the bed. “Go on, now.” With every inch you moved backwards, he moved to meet you as he crawled on the bed. You let your bare back hit the covers. He aggressively pulled your pants down your legs followed by your panties. He hovered over you, arms on either side of your body. Your fingers snaked up his torso. Slowly, he lowered himself down and licked the skin between your breasts before taking one completely in his mouth. You let out a breathy moan when he flicked your nipple with his tongue. He moved from that one and you watched as he wrapped his mouth around the other nipple. The cold air fed into the sensation and left the exposed one erect. He played with it between his fingers. He began to grind against your middle, causing a sensual friction. Instinctively, your back arched into his rhythm. Finally releasing your nipples, he gazed down at you with wet lips and lustful eyes. He attacked your neck again for a few moments before going back for your lips. As he did, he took your wrists in his hands and brought them up over your head, never ceasing to grind over your folds. He wanted to tease you, but all he did was tease himself. Being so close to your entrance was too much to bear. His goal was to make you melt into a puddle, though, and for that, he was determined. 

“Joel?” You called his name sweetly. 

“Hmm” He hummed. 

“Just fuck me already.” You missed him but then you missed him. He let out a chuckle that left you more attracted to him than you were a second ago. 

“Patience, darlin’.” He was still on the ‘make love’ level, but you were well past that and you just wanted to fuck. He compromised by sliding his fingers down your folds instead. He rubbed and pinched your clit for a few moments before sliding two fingers inside you. 

“Joel, you know that’s not what I meant,” You began. He hooked his fingers and flicked at your core before pumping them in and out. Your middle arched up into his fingers as you let out a long moan. “But this...this will work.” Your thighs naturally squeezed against his hand. “God, this feels good. Don’t stop. Not yet.” He watched the way your face squirmed under his touch and it aroused him further.

“Eyes up here, baby girl.” Joel demanded; his voice somehow deeper. 

He felt your walls begin to pulsate around his fingers. He took that as his cue to enter you completely. It took everything he had to only ease in, especially since your insides contracted with each growing inch. You let out a couple of expletives as your walls expanded to accommodate him. Joel was only in you for a moment and was ready to cum. Sweat began to fall down his face as he focused on lasting. 

Joel sucked in a breath before letting out a deep moan. “Ughhh…(Y/N).” His voice cracked. “You’re so…” There were so many things he wanted to say. You were everything to him. “Warm and wet and…” Your walls clenched against his member as he slowly pulled back out. “Tight.”

“Please.” You begged.

“Please what?” He flashed a lustful glare at you.

“Please fuck me.” Your face, voice, words. They were all ingredients to unlock his primal side. All you had to do was say the word. Hands gripping your hips, Joel slid out all the way and flipped you over. He got up on his knees and pulled your ass up to follow him. Your face was planted against the bed. Missing your warmth, Joel slid right back into you. He could feel himself bottoming out as he went deeper inside.

“That feel good?” He asked. You nodded profusely. 

“Fuck!” You shouted.

At this point, he was pounding into you. “I’ve got you, (Y/N).” He said that but it was him that was more erratic than you. His rhythm was uneven and he could feel himself unraveling. There was no turning back now. 

You felt him twitch inside you. The sensation built you up, but it wasn’t enough. You were close to peaking, but you needed him just a little bit longer. You were just about to guide his hand back to your clit when you felt it. He spilled inside you. It was unexpected in more ways than one. Joel prided himself on holding out until you came first. On one hand, you were kind of disappointed at how quick the make up sex was, but on the other, he had never cum in you before. The two of you always practiced safe sex by Joel pulling out and releasing on your stomach or thighs. It wasn’t the best contraceptive, but having sex with a rubber after knowing what it felt like without it was a disappointing thought. He was always so careful. Not one time up until now did he ever stay inside you. You weren’t even thinking about getting knocked up, though. What was on your mind was the new sensation practically made you overflow on it's own. You reached your own hand down to your clit again to help reach your peak. It was a different yet familiar feeling. You didn’t cum the way you were used to, but you still orgasmed; that you knew. It was heady and tingly and you felt it up and down your body. You stayed there in the arched position as he let himself rest on your back for a moment. Joel was still inside you. He had no desire to leave; It was too warm, too comfortable. After he came, he thought it was over, but you continued to contract around his throbbing member as if you were milking out every ounce he had in him. Having not experienced anything like that, he allowed himself to get high off the daze you caused him. Back aching, you released the arch and laid your stomach flat on the bed. Joel watched as he slid out of you, a small flow of cum seeping out in the process. To him, you were a vision and the imagery of it all lengthened his high. 

Soon, his body collapsed on top of the covers. The cool fabric felt nice against his sweaty body. He was still riding his high when he reached his hand out to you. Just as he moved, you did too. You rolled off the bed and walked out the room to the bathroom. He let out a sound that was meant to be a gentle, longing whimper but it came out like a grunt. You went to go pee to prevent a UTI. You usually didn’t leave the bed immediately afterwards, but you wanted to try your hand at douching. You figured, the sooner, the better. The morning after pill was hard to come by, so you thought rinsing would do something…anything. You were also on the last day of your period. You rarely bled on the last day, but you knew that you weren’t ovulating. Your time spent in the bathroom was based on wishful thinking. 

You walked back into the bedroom after a handful of minutes to find Joel sitting up on the bed. He was hunched over, back facing you. Quietly, you crawled onto the bed and over to him. You slid your arms down his chest before resting your chin on his shoulder. The action made him sit up straight. You brought him into a light embrace from behind.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a whisper.

“I can do better.” He sounded defeated.

“I loved every minute of tonight.” You began. You turned his chin so he could face you. “I wanted you and I still want you.”

“That’s not how I wanted it to go. I wanted to make you feel good---”

“And you did, believe me.” You flash him a coy smile. 

“I came inside you.” He confessed.

“I know.” You kissed his shoulder. “Honestly, it was bound to happen. We both knew it was a risk to not use condoms. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see if...um...you know...something happens.” You paused to think of a way to lighten the mood. “You inside me though? It felt...amazing.” His features softened, but he didn’t smile.

“I want to try again. It’ll be better.” He promised you, determined to last longer next time.

“It doesn’t matter who cums first as long as we both feel good in the end, and you always manage to make me feel better than just good.” You make sure he’s looking at you again. “All I want is to share all of myself with you and I want you to do the same with me. That’s all that matters.” You tried to convince him. He acknowledged your words with a nod, but remained silent. “We can try again whenever you want.” You entangled your fingers into his.

“Alright if we try again tomorrow? I don’t think I can stay awake for another round.” He continued to sound defeated. 

“Of course. You had a long day. It was only about 12 hours ago that you almost died.” You playfully responded. He finally chuckled.

You laid back down onto the bed, guiding Joel down with you. He maneuvered so the blanket could cover both of your bodies. Gently, you pulled his head down onto your chest; his ear between your breasts. Your legs spread open to accommodate his body. Your fingers soothingly raked through his hair while your other hand left light scratches on his back. He hummed in appreciation. The amount of ease and trust he felt with you was almost scary, but there was no one else he’d rather give himself to. It didn’t take long for him to fall into a deep sleep.  

[memoriashell]

with age comes wisdom ( or at the very least, entirely unneccessary celebrations )

Characters /  Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru ( focused ), Syo / Komaru, Warriors of Hope

crossposted on ao3

Notes: happy @tokomaruweek week everyone!! i love these funky wlw so i am going to try and have some stuff up this week, but i probably won’t manage to do the whole week / i'll go back to do the ones i miss afterwards? we’ll see.

for today i decided to combine the birthdays + warriors of hope prompts.

i’m also just ignoring canon’s timeline bc god knows i did not want to figure out that bs sorry dr3 ily but i dont love you that much just know it is somewhere post sdr2 / pre dr3 probably?

i also use they/them for syo ( nonbinary hc ) and while there aren’t any specific trauma mentions, given the group of characters this revolves around, there’s refrences to the fact they have shit lives. and some lighthearted murder jokes and self-deprication?

Summary: nothing says happy birthday quite like babysitting her ( favorite ) group of brats

It’s just her luck that this would happen— a coincidence for sure, but that doesn’t make Touko any happier about the whole thing.

This is the situation: they don’t usually see the ( former ) Warriors of Hope much. The kids stay on their side of Towa, and her and Komaru tend to stick closer to the adults. The adults are the ones that need to be kept under supervision, in her opinion. Not that the kids are blameless, but is there much reasoning with brainwashed kids? No. Of course not. Are the adults also practically brainwashed and hard to reason with. Yes. Would this all be easier if Future Foundation was involved? Yes. Yes it would, but for obvious reasons they are not ( they have all agreed to omit some information from public record for the sake of those involved, and right now Naegi’s stunt with the Remnants have Future Foundation’s attention away from them ).

Sometimes Komaru takes some of the things that they get over to the kids because things are rough enough as it is, and Syo will go with her because they can keep the Monokuma off their tracks better. Or you know, because Syo is generally more helpful to Komaru when it comes to things like that. She’s not jealous.

Allegedly— Touko does not know this for a fact herself since she hadn’t been fronting, and only learns this second hand while she is in the middle of typing up a report to send back to the foundation— Kotoko is the one to bring it up, casually handing off some of her share of the cookies Komaru had made for them, to Jataro. An early birthday present, she had said ( pointedly ignoring Nagisa, who’d pointed out she had given Jataro the ones he hated ), before turning to Komaru to ask if they could throw a party. A small one. With no murder, because that would be ‘totally not adorbs’. And no adults, because they stink ( it goes unsaid that Komaru and Touko themselves are the clear exception to this rule, which is some kind of progress, supposedly ).

That seemed like a fairly reasonable request, according to Komaru, who’s only response was to ask when his birthday was. And then accidentally lets it slip that hey, that’s the week that Touko-chan’s birthday is! And that’s how Touko finds out that apparently, she’s having a joint birthday party with the kids because Masaru managed to turn a party into a competition, somehow? Touko has no clue what that actually entails, because Komaru refuses to elaborate.

( Also, at one point before leaving, Komaru had tried asking Jataro if there was anything she could get him; to which he’d remarked, “A new mask?”

...Yeah, Touko can’t blame her for not knowing what to say to that, even if Komaru had spun it as not the most self-deprecating thing he could have said, which was an improvement? She personally disagrees, but whatever )

Here, she should point out the obvious fact that she does not want to really celebrate her birthday, let alone have a party for it. Because those kind of things lean so far into the zone of things Touko doesn’t really know how to handle, that it makes her close to uncomfortable. And if— if she had humored herself in imagining how she would ideally spend her birthday this year; quite frankly, it would be very quiet and boring and only with Komaru. Not with a group of ten year olds. Ten year olds that she might think of rather fondly, but ten year old brats all the same.

( It’s not like she has any alive friends: if Touko acknowledges the other survivors, justifiably they are too busy with more important matters to fuss over a birthday. They aren’t kids anymore. Some of them hadn’t ever really been like normal kids to begin with, but that’s besides the point )

“Look at the bright side,” She starts, and she bites back a snide what bright side and remark about how that’s all Komaru’s good at ( it’s not. She’s more talented than she gives herself credit for ). “None of you probably have really positive memories when it comes to birthdays or parties, so even if it isn’t the greatest, at least the bar to please should be pretty easy to clear!”

Touko thinks she probably gets the point she is trying to make here, but Komaru’s complete and utter lack of tact doesn’t make for the best delivery. “Are you trying to...to make me feel bad? S-So sorry my life was complete sh-shit growing up.”

“No! That’s not what I meant at all!” Komaru pouts at her. “Does that mean you’re not interested in having a party?”

It’s not like she’s so cold-hearted and selfish that she’s going to say no to that. Well, no, that’s not quite true, Touko might be just that; but it doesn’t really matter either way, because Komaru gives her best kicked dog impression, so she says ( a less than enthusiastic ) no, she doesn’t mind, yes you can have a party; even if she thinks she’ll probably regret that choice.

Okay, if you are to be honest with herself, some part of Touko that never got to be a normal child doesn’t entirely mind the thought of a party, even if it’s...not the most ideal scenario, the impractical fantasy situation that lives in her head. But if she says that aloud, Komaru will either take it too seriously, use it as an excuse to celebrate things more often, or something else that probably has consequences that she doesn’t want to think about. And also admittedly because if she says it aloud, she has to acknowledge it, and maybe she doesn't want to get her hopes up over something as stupid as a party.

( There’s also the fact that, deep in her extremely repressed memories of Hope’s Peak before the tragedy, she does remember parties. Birthdays. Celebrating things with her classmates, if somewhat forcibly so. She has no desire to remember those things, so those feelings remain repressed with most of her trauma )

It’s easy to not acknowledge any of that when she has to deal with the sudden onslaught of a headache that is Syo forcing themselves into their shared headspace, hand rubbing at her temples. Not trying to co-front, she can tell they aren’t trying to snatch control from her ( for now ), just forcing her to pay attention to them. It works, even though Touko has told them to not do this specifically because of how irritating it is for her.

I could scare the kids into cooperating? It’ll save us a headache and a half! Syo offers, maybe too eagerly. Their ideas of scare and cooperate are probably different from her own. Still. She also knows Syo is aware of more than they are letting on, given that they had been present when this conversation had occurred, but she doesn’t think she’ll get much out of them in that regard.

No. Touko tells them firmly. It’ll be counterproductive, Komaru won’t let you do that, and they’re all traumatized enough without you adding to that.

Boo, you sure about that? Consider it a birthday gift from me!

No. She repeats herself sternly, and she feels them withdraw a bit after that. Ugh, Syo hasn’t had a chance to front much recently, now that she thinks about it. Since they usually only take over when she’s in danger, and she hasn’t really been in ( as much ) danger now that things are starting to calm down. Well, relatively speaking. Syo is probably just looking for an excuse to be allowed to front, since it’s probably rough going from being very present to rarely getting the chance to be out: akin to going cold turkey on an addiction. That’s not exactly her fault ( or theirs ), but maybe she’ll ask Komaru if she’d be okay with hanging out with Syo more, if only to placate them a little, before they try something more drastic.

“Everything okay? That was Syo, right?” She hears Komaru ask after a few minutes, and Touko rubs her eyes and blinks. “You looked a little frustrated.”

She considers telling her the truth, but no point in getting her concerned over nothing. She’d like to figure out what she wants to negotiate with Syo firstm so she’ll leave that conversation for another time. “Fine. They just...ugh, just wanted to make sure I was okay with it.”

“And you are okay with it, right? You aren’t agreeing just because I asked?” Touko thinks she begged more than she asked, but she’s pretty sure Komaru will only sulk if she brings that up.

“I wouldn’t let you if, if I was really opposed to it.” Probably. She...trusted Komaru, or something like that, so she figures she’d probably be more honest with herself and not mentally torture herself by putting herself through something she has no interest in. “But...what are you even planning on doing to celebrate? I can’t im-imagine we’ve really got much around here that we can use for a party.”

“Ah. Uhm.” Komaru looks a little embarrassed at that. “About that. I was kind of hoping you and Syo might help pitch in. You don’t mind, right?”

You’re hopeless, she wants to mutter, but—

Yeah!!!! Syo wakes right back up upon being mentioned, no sense of self awareness at all, much to your annoyance, but it’s not like you completely disagree with the feeling that is shared between you two.

“You— You really bit off more than you could chew, hm...? Good thing this wasn’t supposed t-t-to be a surprise.” She quips, leaning over to peer at the paper she’d been making her notes on. “We’ll help, just tell us what we...what we need to do.”

“Thank you, Touko-chan! And Syo too!” Komaru sounds somewhere mixed between grateful and relieved, and casually plants a kiss on her cheek as if it’s no big deal—

She said my name last, so the kiss was for me! She knows Syo is intentionally trying to provoke her and get a rise out of her ( yeah, a rising sense of jealousy ), but puts that aside for the time being because Komaru’s blabbering on like nothing happened.

“I know we probably won’t have the whole day to ourselves to do whatever—” Correctomundo, Dekomaru! “— but I’ll make it up to you on your birthday, okay? We’ll do something that you want.”

“You don't...there’s no need for that.” She forces out between gritted teeth, trying to ignore the flustered feeling in the pit of her stomach, chewing around a fingernail ( what an unattractive sight to follow that ). “Because— ugh, don’t repeat th-this, okay? What I want to do is spend time with...with you. That’s all. So don’t go...you don’t need to go out of your way trying to do s-s-something over the top. Stick to being normal.”

“Really? You’re sure?” Komaru sounds a little uncertain, but happy enough to pull her into a hug, despite her grumbled complaint. “Oh, but Syo has their own birthday, don’t they? So I should probably ask them what they want as well, right?”

“Don’t make me repeat m-myself. It’s embarrassing...” Touko huffs, but lets herself be held against her side, just for a moment. It’s nice, though she won’t admit it ( it is better than any real gift that she could receive ). Syo is kind enough to back off long enough to let her have this moment. “You can ask them later— focus on, on what you need to plan.”

By something short of a miracle, they are able to pull together a party that is not a complete disaster, even if Komaru probably has a point when she says the bar to clear is a pretty low standard for all parties involved. The closest she has to an actual concern is the very narrowly avoided fight that almost breaks out when Masaru and Kotoko fight over which one of them should give their present first— which is apparently the competitive aspect of the party? It’s probably meant to be heartwarming, if it were not such a foreign thing to Touko. Which Nagisa is quick to put an end to: because this is how they would treat Monaca, which is not inherently healthy, and she’s glad that at least one of them can recognize that fact now. Jataro spends the entirety of the fight trying to hide behind her long skirt and, relatable kid, and rubs the top of his head while Komaru tries to both scold them for fighting and appease them because they’re, well. Kids. Who still need to learn some things and have time to unlearn things.

So yeah, it’s a good party— for not being on her actual birthday, she’ll consider it one of the better memories Touko has associated with the day. The start of many, she’d like to hope.

[amydancepants-peralta]

37 or 64 for the prompt thing, please? :3

37: “What did you break this time?” and 64: “You know, it’s a really long story.”

@b99peraltiago Adele, I’m very sorry to be so late with this ... but I’ve combined the two into an AU that I hope you enjoy!  

crash into you 

Series 3 of her favourite podcast, Lingthusiasm, is playing at just the right decibel through Amy Santiago’s earphones as she diverts her Thursday afternoon walk to a soft patch of grass in order stretch out her aching muscles.  According to the majority of her research, a steady pace of 3 to 4.5 mph was the optimum standard pace to maintain fitness.  In order to excel, she had increased to a regulated 5.5mph over the past few days, and her body was not being subtle in its protest.  

She’s not to know it yet, but in the coming days she will be grow to be beyond grateful for the existence of said earphones  - as they act as a complete distraction to her surroundings - and as a result Amy does not sense any impending danger until a shrieking “EEEEEEE! WatchoutIcan’tstopIcan’tstopOHGODICAN’TSTOP!” manages to cut through the otherwise dulcet tones of the host Gretchen’s voice.  

A mere second later, she finds herself falling to the ground as a confusing mixture of weight, cologne and wheels crashes into her, an unfamiliar pair of arms wrapping themselves around her middle as they attempt to absorb the brunt of their descent.  

The blades of grass are cold against her bare arms as she struggles against the sudden oppressive weight, the scent of dirt mixing with this mysterious cologne as she throws her head side to side.  “What the …?”

The weight is lifted as suddenly as it arrived, a steady hand planting itself into the ground next to her neck as the rest of Amy’s senses finally begin to regain control.  With her sunglasses knocked off during the fray (and therefore temporarily out of reach), she squints against the bright rays of the sun, struggling to make sense of what on earth just happened.

Obviously, somebody had crashed into her.  But she still wasn’t sure of the who or the how - or the why, really.  

But what Amy could be sure of, as her mind slowly began to focus on what was directly in front of her, was that she was currently looking into the most expressive pair of eyes she’d ever seen in her life.  Coupled with a prominent nose, strong jawline and tousled brown hair - it’s messy curls almost begging to be toyed with - the sight was distracting, to say the least.  

There’s a dull sound in the back of her mind, a soft baritone that she doesn’t recognise, and as her brows knit with focus Amy realises that the beautiful stranger above her is talking.  Tearing her attention away from the warm gaze in front of her, Amy shakes her head in obvious confusion.  “I’m sorry, what?”

“Are you okay?”

It’s a simple question - one that should come with its own simple response.  She thinks she’s okay - her breath is a little shaky from the shock, and her ankle is throbbing a little from the thwack of what she suspects might be roller skate wheels against her skin, but nothing feels broken.  Her voice seems to be coming and going as it pleases, though, and Amy doesn’t quite trust herself to speak more than a few words, and so she gives a feeble nod.

With a relieved sigh the man shifts, moving to sit slightly upright on the grass next to her.  “I’m so sorry about that.  I called out as loudly as I could, but I don’t think you could hear me until it was too late.”  Shaking his head, he gestures down towards his feet, and Amy lifts her head just a little, taking in what she had correctly suspected - a pair of roller skates, strapped to his feet with bright pink and yellow laces.  

Clearing her throat, Amy slowly props herself up onto one elbow, angling herself towards her assailant.  Her heart still felt like it was beating a little erratically, but no longer seemed to be lodged in her throat, and so she tries speaking something more than just a few words.  “I heard …something, but you’re right.  It was definitely too late.  Maybe a little of ‘I can’t stop’?”

The man nods, changing the motion to a shake immediately after as he reaches down and begins yanking the laces undone.  “There are literally no brakes on them.  Man, I am truly terrible at this.  I haven’t done it in years, and I guess some skills just don’t stay with you over time.”

“Unca Jaaake!”  A tiny voice appears, seemingly from nowhere, and Amy props herself up onto both elbows to gain a better view.  Skating effortlessly towards them was a young girl, no more than six years old, with soft red hair and a bright smile.  Bending her toe towards the sidewalk as she nears Amy and the stranger (Unca Jake seems like a pretty good guess), she comes to a smooth stop in front of them.  “You went off so fast! I couldn’t keep up.  Isn’t this FUN?!”

“TOTALLY fun, Iggy!  So much so that I swept this woman off her feet with all my awesomeness.”  Wincing, he looks back over at Amy.  “I really am sorry, Miss …?”

Smiling, Amy shifts herself into a half-sitting position before offering a hand to shake.  “Santiago.  Amy Santiago.”

His hand feels warm against hers, covering her palm with his gentle grip as he responds politely.  “Jake Peralta.  Or ‘Unca Jake’, as this one likes to call me.”  Returning his attention towards the skates, he yanks each one off of his feet with a triumphant shout.  “She and I thought it would be a great idea to go skating in the park.  Obviously, a better decision for one more than the other.”

Looking up, Amy watches with a grin as the girl in front of them launches into a series of twirls, holding both arms out in the kind of carefree manner that only a happy child can do.  “Yeah.  I hate to break this to you, but I think she might be a slightly better skater than you.”

“Oh my god, what did you break this time?!”  A new, definitely more mature voice cuts into their conversation, and from beside her Jake sighs.

“She didn’t break anything, Gina.  This was all me.”

A tall redhead screeches to a stop in front of the two of them, one hand reaching out to adjust the strap on her elbow guard as she throws Jake a withering stare.  Her eyes flit over towards Amy, her calculated glare making Amy feel oddly self-conscious, and with a roll of her eyes she returns her attention back to the man beside her.  “I’m not talking about Iggy, you doofus.  I know it wasn’t her - my girl can glide like an angel.  Clearly, if anybody was going to break anything today, it was you.”

“Wish somebody had thought to tell me that,” Jake mutters, balling his hand into a fist and pushing it into the grass as he lifts himself up.  Once standing he turns towards Amy, offering her his hand, and she accepts with a smile.  His hand really did feel nice and welcoming. 

“So you’re just going around knocking down strangers now, huh?”

“You know it was an accident, Gina.  I’m just thankful that nobody ended up hurt.  This is Amy, by the way.”  He gestures towards Amy, and she waves at the redhead in response.  “The lovely woman who was innocently walking through the park before I appeared out of nowhere and bowled her over.”

Reaching out her hand, Amy takes a step towards the other woman before stopping in her tracks with a sharp intake of breath.  “Ouch!”  

Jake is front of her in an instant, reaching out a comforting hand and resting it on her upper arm for support.  “Whoa, did I hurt you after all?”

Using her free hand to shield her eyes from the sun, Amy looks at the man in front of her, once again picking up on the obvious concern in his eyes.  She gives her ankle a little test wriggle, grimacing slightly as it throbs again in protest.  It’s definitely angry; but she can still move her foot without impediment, and so she shakes her head, offering Jake a comforting smile.  “No, I think my ankle’s just a little irritated, post-skate attack.  Nothing a little ice and elevation can’t fix.” 

His hand remains on her upper arm - a fact that Amy is becoming increasingly aware of - and Jake’s eyes watch her carefully as she gives him a friendly shrug.  “Are you sure?”

“Moooooom … I’m bored!”

“Me too, Iggs.  Me too.”

Holding back a laugh, Amy nods.  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Reluctantly Jake pulls away, throwing a quick glare in his friend’s direction before returning his attention to Amy, patting the pockets of his jeans.  “Okay, uh … look.  I’m a doctor.”  Fishing a card out of his back pocket, he smooths the worn edges before handing it to Amy.  “If you start to feel worse at any point in the next 24 hours, I want you to call me, okay?  Any time, day or night.”

Plucking the card from his outstretched hand, Amy reads the inscription with surprise.  Jake Peralta: Oncologist.  Who knew her routine walk would ever be interrupted by a roller skating oncologist?  She grins, holding back a giggle as she looks back up at the man in front of her.  “Okay.  I’m pretty sure I’m fine, but … thank you.”

“Day or night.  You could have a concussion, or bruised ribs … I’d hate to have you hurting.  So, you know.  Call me if you are.”

Amy nods, bidding her goodbyes as she slowly begins to step back, snatching up her sunglasses and trying her very best not to limp in any obvious way as she goes.  “Will do.  Thanks for the card, and … hope you get better at roller skating.”

Jake’s blindingly bright grin is the last thing Amy sees before she turns around, missing his raised hand’s departing wave as she begins to make her way home.  It was ridiculous, but part of her couldn’t help but notice the tiny butterflies that began fluttering through her stomach the moment that man had smiled at her.  Not to mention the way his hand had felt so perfectly warm against her own.  

Or his kind eyes that seemed to absorb everything she said, when really she hadn’t had much to say at all.  

Shaking her head, Amy digs her house key out from its hidden pocket in her leggings, unlocking her front door and heading straight to the kitchen for an ice pack and a glass of wine (in that order).  It made absolutely zero sense, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just developed a massive crush on an absolute stranger.  

And she had no idea what she was going to do about it.

*

As it turns out, a few glasses of wine with your ankle propped up on the couch gives a normally shy woman a certain amount of courage; and so later that very night Amy sent a polite thank you text to the number on Jake’s business card.  (She is, after all, a massive advocate for thank you notes - or any kind of well-mannered correspondence, for that matter.)

Responding within minutes, Jake is obvious in his relief: thankful that he hadn’t left her completely damaged after his horrible attempt to keep up with a six year old.  

I honestly would have felt like the worst person ever, his text read, and Amy smiled at his candour.  Her thumb is still hovering over the keyboard, trying to figure out a casual way to keep the conversation going (even though it has only just begun, she really doesn’t want it to end just yet) when her phone vibrates again in her hand - this time with a photo of Jake on the ground, obviously having fallen again on his way home.  She’s replying with the laughing emoji before she can stop herself, and when he responds with a facepalm and a longwinded description of just how he managed to stack it on the concrete path near his house, Amy gets that warm feeling all over again - like they’ve known each other for way longer than just half a day.

Before she knows it, over half an hour has passed, and her phone has had a steady run of Dr Peralta messages the entire time.  Her eyes are still sparkling from all the laughter when the texts seem to pause for a minute or two, and with her heart leaping out of her chest Amy reads his latest message - a shy fragment of sentences, asking her to dinner the following evening.  

It’s all she can do not to respond with a oh gosh yes! - choosing instead to type out a less manic version of I’d love to, adding in the blushing emoji and ignoring the throb in her ankle as she begins a happy celebratory dance in her living room.  

It’s hard to explain, this feeling she gets whenever they speak, but Amy has the strongest instinct that this could be the start of something amazing.  

*

Jake sits across from her the following evening, the nerves obvious on his face as he fidgets with the napkin on the table, and Amy would like to say she’s faring a little better, but she definitely isn’t.  

Smoothing her hands against the red dress she’s had hanging in her cupboard for months now - waiting for just the right occasion for it’s debut - Amy wills her legs to stop bouncing with restless energy as she waits for the waiter to finish taking their order.  There’s a glass of white wine to both of their lefts, and while part of her is dying to empty the glass right away, there’s another part that wishes they had just ordered a bunch of shots instead.  According to her oldest friend Kylie, her reactions seem to vary dependent on the amount she consumes, but there’s something to be said for the influx of Liquid Courage.  

He’d told her she was beautiful when they’d met outside the restaurant earlier, his eyes so wide and sincere that all of the first date jitters that had been simmering in Amy’s stomach on the walk over had immediately turned into an inferno.  Had held the door open for her, giving her a gentle smile as she passed him by, and when she caught a whiff of the same cologne she’d noticed the day before, her heart had skipped a tiny beat.  

It was ridiculous, this pull she felt towards somebody that had literally been a stranger two days ago, but Amy wasn’t even slightly interested in stopping it.

Handing over his menu to the waiter as he departs, Jake flickers his gaze in Amy’s direction, raising his eyebrows slightly when he notices Amy is already looking his way.  His hesitation is obvious as his nerves get the better of him, opening his mouth before closing it just as quickly, and Amy - the woman who has attended more Toastmaster courses than most - decides to pull him out of the deep end.

“So … you’re an oncologist?”

He nods, a tiny smile of relief growing on his face.  “Yeah.  I’m based at Brooklyn Methodist most of the week, and every other Friday I do a little pro-bono work for community health.”

She nods, already invested in hearing more.  There was a handsome man sitting across from her in a pale grey shirt, a dark grey blazer and a smile that rivalled the lamp on every table for brightness.  He could start reading from the paper, and she’d be invested.  “That’s an interesting field to go into.  What led you down that path?”

Amy watches as the slightest tinge of pink begins to creep over his cheeks, and damn it if it isn’t incredibly endearing.  He hesitates for a moment, eventually raising his hand in a half-dismissive wave.  “You know, it’s a really long story.”

She waits, cocking her head slightly to the side, and after a minute Jake breaks out into a grin.  

“Okay, fine.  It was just me and my Mom growing up, and she was working two or three jobs to pay bills and whatever, so a lot of the time I would stay at my Nan’s until I was old enough to stay on my own.  We got really close, because my Nan was awesome, and when I was in my sophomore year of high school she got really sick.”  His face falls slightly, and he reaches for the glass of wine to his right.  Letting the wine trickle down his throat, Jake studies the glass a little more than necessary, and when he finally turns his attention back to Amy the look on his face makes everything else in the restaurant turn dim.  “We couldn’t afford a lot, but we went to so many doctors, trying to find answers, ya know?  And nobody seemed to be able to help.”

Amy’s hand seems to move of its own accord, reaching across the table to rest against Jake’s wrist before she even realises what’s happening.  His eyes flickers down to her touch before returning to her eyes, and the softness of his gaze only makes her squeeze gently in silent encouragement.  

“And … you know, this was a time before Google made everyone doctors, or even a reference point like WebMD, so it wasn’t too long before I found myself down at the local library - literally any chance I could get - just reading and studying and …. I dunno, trying to figure out what I could do to save her.  I was just completely in the zone.  Honestly, the library lady thought that I had been possessed by some other kid.”  Rolling his eyes, he gives a little shrug.  “They weren’t entirely wrong, if I’m being honest.  I simply couldn’t bear the thought of sitting back and just … waiting for this thing to destroy somebody I loved.”

Nodding slowly, Amy leans forward and uses the leverage to start a soothing stroke up and down her date’s forearm.  This is far more contact than she would normally offer on a first date - heck, maybe even more than a second date - but she cannot ignore this instinctual need she has to comfort the man across from her.  

Out of the corner of her eye she notices their waiter walking towards them, bottle of wine in hand ready for the pour, and she gives him a subtle shake of her head.  There was a story to tell here - she could see it in Jake’s eyes - and even though she’s fairly certain she knows where it’s going, she has no interest in rushing him through it.

Bringing his right hand up to the table, Jake fiddles with his dessert spoon, tracing the smooth outside edge with his thumb as a distraction.  “Anyway.  Despite all my hopes of becoming some kind of overnight Doogie Howser, things just kept getting worse for Nan, and … yeah.  Too little, too late.”  Scooping the arm of the utensil up with his fingers, he flips it over a few times, keeping his eyes locked on the flashes of metal against the beige tablecloth.  

Taking a deep breath Amy stills her hand on Jake’s arm, waiting until he’s looking back at her before continuing.  “I’m really sorry to hear that, Jake.”

He smiles, an action that barely meets his eyes, his face so soft it makes her heart ache.  “Thanks, Amy.”  His hand stills, foregoing the spoon to scratch an itch along his jawline.  “Anyway, by the time all that happened I was like … two months away from graduating school, and medicine had pretty much become the only thing I knew.  Add that to a surprisingly good SAT score, and next thing I knew I was on my way to medical school.  Broke as hell, studying during the day and working through the night, but … what little inheritance we’d gotten from Nan, my mom insisted it go towards my education, and I was not going to waste that opportunity.”

Chewing slightly on her lower lip, Amy studies the man in front of her.  “I think it’s amazing that you’re able to help so many people now, Jake.”  He shrugs, and she continues.  “No, really.  It takes a special kind of soul to be able to take the pain and make it into something stronger.”  

“I mean, it’s not all perfect.  I’m still paying off the tuition fees, to this day.  My da- someone was going to help me with it, but that’s a whole other story.”  He sighs, pursing his lips slightly before continuing.  “In saying that, I’ve think I’ve been able to help a decent amount of people.  And Gina - the woman I was skating with yesterday? - she’s been my friend since childhood; and now she’s my administrative assistant.  She has a surprisingly great way of sensing what my patients want to hear while they’re waiting for their appointment, and just provides the perfect distraction every time.  So yeah, I think it’s turned out kinda okay.”  The table falls silent for a moment, and just as Amy is about to break the hush, Jake blinks rapidly, shaking his head.  “God, I’m sorry.  I just blurted out like … half of my life story to you.  I don’t even know where that came from, I’m so sorry.”

Tightening her grip on Jake’s arm, Amy shakes her head quickly.  “No, please don’t apologise.  I really loved hearing about it.”  Slowly, she began to pull her hand away.  “And for what it’s worth, I bet your Nan would have been really proud of you.”

Watching as the blush returns to his cheeks, Amy takes a deep breath in as Jake’s smile begins to return.  He nods, his voice suddenly a lot softer.  “Yeah, she definitely would be.”

Glancing around the room, his hand runs down the middle of his dress shirt, fingertips skimming over the pale coloured buttons as he gives Amy a sly grin.  “I should probably confess something, though.  I was really, really glad when you texted me to say you were feeling okay - and not just in the ‘thank god I didn’t break a stranger’s ankle’ kind of way.”

“Oh?”

Jake’s still-fidgety right hand runs through the back of his hair, his expression turning sheepish.  “Yeah.  I mean, obviously I would have had you come in right away, strapped up your foot or whatever, but … it also would have meant that you’d have become my patient.”  He pauses to swallow, rubbing the underside of his ear.  “And if you were my patient, I technically wouldn’t have been allowed to ask you out, and that’s just … I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m really happy that we were able to do this.”

The tip of Amy’s ears begin to heat up and she ducks her head slightly, quickly tucking her hair back before looking back up at Jake with a smile.  “Me too, Jake.”

Grinning, Jake’s teeth dig slightly into his bottom lip, and he nods.  “Anyway.  Enough about me.  I’m dying to know more about you.  What do you, when you’re not getting barrelled down by lunatic doctors in open fields?”

Chuckling at her date’s description of yesterday afternoon, Amy sits up slightly as she answers proudly - “I’m in the NYPD.  A detective, actually.”

“No way!  That’s so badass.  I bet you kick butt.”  Jake’s eyes light up, and he leans in closer, arms brushing against the edge of the table as they are relegated to his lap.  “Die Hard was not-so-secretly my favourite movie growing up, and for the longest time I was certain I was going to be a cop just like John McClane.”

Amy nods in understanding.  At least two of her brothers counted Die Hard as one of their all-time favourites, and she has spent many an evening stuck on the couch, watching the action thriller.  “Ah, I see.  Well … I’m sorry to tell you this, but I haven’t once jumped off the roof of a burning building.  Or climbed through ventilation ducts to save a bunch of hostages from certain death.”

“Yet.  You haven’t jumped off the roof of a burning building, yet.”

She laughs.  “You’re right.  My mistake.  I’ll be sure to call you when I do.”

He beams.  “I hope you do.”

To the approaching waiter they must have looked particularly odd - the two of them sitting in total silence as they smiled at each other from across the table - but Amy genuinely cannot remember ever feeling as comfortable on her first date as she does right now.  

Their easy conversation rolls on throughout their meals, ranging from stories about Amy’s most memorable collars to the patients that Jake has never been able to forget, and Amy is halfway through a story about which brother gave her the scar on her right elbow when the waiter reappears, quietly letting them know that several hours have passed and the restaurant was now ready to close.

She’s still blushing slightly as Jake pays the bill, smiling apologetically at the staff as her date holds out her coat.  In the blink of an eye, they had managed to spend the entire night talking, and yet somehow she still wanted to know more.  

Jake’s touch feels light against the small of her back as he leads them towards the exit, and as they step out into the night Amy leans her head back to take in the peppered light of the stars above.  She’s never been one to believe in fate, but maybe when it came to this, she needed to make an exception.

His hand reaches for hers after the third or fourth block, and as they walk together Amy begins to realise that of all the years she’s spent as a detective solving puzzles, she’d never actually found her own missing piece - and maybe, just maybe, the sweet and charming man beside her was going to be the perfect fit.  

They walk for longer than either of them intended, the stories from earlier in the evening picking up as though they were never interrupted, and when they finally end up outside Amy’s apartment she cannot hide the sadness that begins to wash over her. 

He kisses her goodnight, and it’s the kind of kiss that begins so soft and delicate, before turning into so much more … even though she knows it’s impossible, Amy swears she can hear the fireworks sparking above them.  His arms keep her close to his chest as they both lean in for another, the pounding beat of both of their hearts fighting through the fabric of their coats, and when he finally bids her goodbye, Amy knows that already she is falling, falling, falling.  

By the end of the following week, there have been two more dates (and perhaps one sleepover), and in a few years time Gina will tell an entirely different version of how they met to their family and friends at their wedding reception.

It will be a couple more years before their family begins to expand; but as they grow, Amy is always happy to remind their children that her knight in shining armour turned out to be a doctor with ill-fitting skates - and that sometimes, you just have to let your future crash into you.  

(And when the time comes to actually teach their kids how to roller skate, maybe Amy chooses to do it on a day when her husband is already tied up with work.)