#OH YEAH AND THE OLD STICKS IN A BUNDLE

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

of monsters and milk (dad!hanjisung)

can ya'll tell i have the biggest fucking soft spot for dad!han 🙈

"Weeeeeee-gaaahh".

"AH. CRYING BABY"

Han jolts into a sitting position, all senses on high alert, eyes wide and his messy head of hair all fluffed out and tousled from the abrupt start.

He quickly slips out of the rumpled sheets and crawls over to the bassinet at the feet of the bed just as you start to stir awake, ever so slowly.

"Mmh...Nari?".

Han swiftly picks up his crying baby, he retrieves her discarded pacifier and gently sticks it in her mouth as too soothe her quickly, all the while rocking her in his arms gently, "I got this, shh, go back to sleep", he instructs softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

In your hazy, still dreamy state you catch but a jumbled murmur of his words and whiff on Nari's baby powder and milk scent before you drift off to sleep incredibly quickly. After all being a parent for the second time with a toddler and a 2 months old baby gets the best of you. Reason why you and Han take turns for night feeds and cuddles and just overall baby duties.

Perhaps the both of you combined might eventually get 8 full hours of sleep in a week. Not 8 consecutive hours of rest but ... Still.

Nari is not quite calm yet but the pacifier holds off her hungry crying at least until he has successfully padded his way out of your shared bedroom and into the hall, ""ts alright Nari-ah, milk is coming, milk is coming", he mumbles, pressing soft kisses to her downy little head as he makes his way down the hall  and is almost about to unlock the kids safe gate perched on top of the stairs when he hears a wail like scream followed by loud whimpers.

"MONSTAH MONSTAH WEEEE".

"Oh ... Another crying baby". 

Han barely has any time to kneel down on the floor, carefully balancing Nari on his hip while still holding onto her head and neck so it's pressed into his chest when Daisy comes screaming down the hall, running straight into her father's unoccupied arm, spread out for her: "what happened? baby what happened are you okay?", he tries to calm her down by hugging her to the best of his abilities.

It partially works. Nothing like daddy's magic hugs to calm down a crying baby. Daisy burrows her little face into her father's chest and sniffles quietly, "i had a mare mare...wit monstah". A small but painful crack in his heart, Han pulls his older daughter tighter to him, "aw you had a nightmare and a monster was there,sweetheart? I'm so sorry, it must have been scary yeah?", he says calmly, recognizing her fear and distress.

The little girl nods vehemently and sticks her tiny hands in her dad's pjama pants pocket, timdily asking for comfort and shelter, "very scawy, he took Quokki", she confesses, her big brown eyes still glossy with unshed tears, "oh no, not Quokki. I'm so sorry Daisy girl, we should make this bad monster go away shouldn't we? I bet Quokki is scared too", Han says softly, gathering up his two lovely bundles of daughters as he slowly stands up again.

Daisy clings to his legs and looks up at him expectantly, very much wrapped around his finger for Oppa is always so good at helping her through nightmares. "Alright, let's go chase out this bad guy so you and Quokki can go back to sleep", he explains patiently, walking towards her room.

Nari fusess about in slight impatience, her suckling on her pacifier growing sloppy with anticipation for the milk she's been promised, that much Han knows very well. But he's determined not to wake you up again, despite the dark circles around his tired eyes and the overall sleepiness and exhaustion from the numerous sleepless nights, he still takes the time to tackle one problem at a time, help one daughter at a time.

As soon as Daisy walks back into her bedroom she lunges for her HanQuokka plushie, which she has funnily renamed Quokki, and holds him tight to her chest, a sight so heartbreakingly devastating Han crumples on the inside out of pure endearment.

"Good girl, Deiji girl, cuddle him close, he needs you right now", he instructs before bending down on his knees again so he's more eye level with his daughter, "okay, first we have to chase Mr. Monster away from Daisy's little mind and Quokki's too right?", he says and waits for Daisy to nod her approval, "you know how we do that? with a kiss!! Monsters are very afraid of kisses, because kisses are magic!".

Ah the fervent imagination he nurtured with years and years of songwriting and bed time story impromptu making. Han Jisung the artist and the loving father where one and the same: wizards. Little genius brain faces of the same man.

Daisy's adoring eyes go wide with utter bewilderment, her mouth even opening in awe, "what were going to do is daddy gives you a kiss, here on your forehead so Monster flies straight out, and then you give Quokki a kiss on his little forehead so he's protected too!", Han enthuses, admiring how his daughter lights up at the suggestion,"YES!!", the 2 year old exclaims excitedly, now jumping up and down, almost rousing her little sister whose sleepy but inquisitive big eyes are looking around, taking in her sourroundings.

Emphasizing the smack of his lips on her forehead, Han kisses his first baby and taps her head gently, "take that Mr. Monster!", Daisy squeals in happiness and places a resounding kiss onto her plushie, which catches Nari's attention, the infant squirming and whining softly, "ah I think your baby sister might want a magic kiss too!", Han states, immediately abiding to his instincts. Which Daisy promptly replicates by puckering up and standing on her tippy toes to reach her sister.

A tender spike to his heart, Han bends down and watches that blissful moment as Daisy kisses her sister's forehead, looking immensely proud. He still is just astounded at how sensitive and smart and perceptive his first flower is. Actual tears threaten to spill right out of his eyes.

"Gooood girl, good big sissy. Now we're going to open the window so Monster can finally get out", he affirms then, walking over to the moon illuminated window, opening it wide for a brief second, "Mr. Monster we need you to go and leave Daisy alone now, bye bye", he mocks waves his hand bye, his older daughter imitating him, "buh -bye monstah", she exclaims resolutely in her tiny voice.

Once the window is closed Han spins around and holsters up Nari who's now growing restless for her milk, "okay, monster's gone now. Do you want to have some warm milk like sissy before going back to bed?", he offers, "yes, daddah", Daisy beams upnat him and he holds oir his hand for her, "downstairs we go,then. Hand please", he instructs again so they can walk out and then downstairs safely.

He's done this a million times, really. Ever since she started walking and then running and then figuring out how ro climb the stairs, Han knows she's a big girl now, she's careful and capable of moving around on her own quite well. Yet to hold safely that tiny hand while walking downstairs feels like the most precious thing still.

If he could hold her hand forever, through whatever hurdles might come here way, if he could shield and help his daughters bu Just holding their hands forever he would, in a heartbeat.

The clever little older girl climbs on her chair by herself, she patiently waits for her dad to slide said chair closer to the table so she's safe up there and quietly plays with her Quokki while Han warms up some milk. Nari drools all over herself, squirming around in her father's hold when she sees her milk bottle approach, "one second baby girl, it's hot, it's very hot", he says through a yawn, ultimately, finally! sitting down at the table, ready to feed his girls.

He hands Daisy her sippy cup and she takes it with both hands, as if accepting a gift, just like her dad taught her, "there you go, darling", "thank youuu appa". Smiling warmly at her, Han brushes her hair gently, so proud of her manners, the way she's still so young but so talkative and bright. The way she started picking up Korean so well and she spontaneously switches in between languages. He loves their little conversations.

"Kkkksss ahh milky's finally here yeah? Hi sweetheart, hi", he coos softly, feeding Nari who slurps up her milk ravenously while he gently settles her head in the crook of his elbow, right against his chest so her neck is supported and tilted right.

Oh that lovely baby smell intensifying, her tiny sounds and hiccups, Han gazes lovingly into his other daughter's eyes, holding her bottle for her.

He's split between the two loves of his entire life, not sure how to contain all the love stored within him. It's the quiet moments like these that make his heart flutter, just him and these two small humans he helped bring to life. 

"All done dadda", Daisy exclaims, showing her empty cup, a little sleepiness in her eyes, "you're all done baby? was it yummy? do you want some more?", Han asks, smiling encouragingly, "no thank you, 'm good", she replies through a small yawn, shaking her head,"okay, can you wait two more minutes until sissy's done with her milk or would you like to go to sleep right now?", he inquires, gently tilting the bottle so Nari can easily suck up the last few drops of milk, "Daiji waits", murmurs the little girl, rocking her legs back and forth as she waits patiently at the table.

As soon as Han's done feeding Nari, he grabs a towel and drapes it over his shoulder expertly, he promptly lifts his baby up to his shoulders so he can pat her back and help her digest, silently praying she doesn't spit up her milk while he walks around slowly.

"Can I hol' shissy?". Han stops in his tracks and grins widely at Daisy, who's looking expectantly at her father, he walks over to her at the table and bends down on his knees, "of course you can hold sissy, little daisy flower. You want to be very gentle okay? Dadda helps you".

With a bit of careful maneuvering, and with the strong support of his arms, Han places a now very sleepy very calm baby Nari into her older sister's lap, the little girl cradling the baby so sweetly and hesitantly Han feels his heart swelling and swelling.

"Nari is preeetty", she mumbles under her breath, "yeah she's is very pretty, and you are very pretty. And mum's very pretty too, and you both look just like her", Han replies sincerely, unable to contain the joy manifesting on his face, he kissess both of his daughters' cheeks, so endeared he might cry.

A few goodnight kissess and nuzzles and diaper checks later, once he has made sure Nari's fast asleep in her bassinet and you are still soundly asleep, Han makes his way back to Daisy's room, tired and sleepy beyond comprehension but still willing to tuck his daughter to bed like he promised he would.

Daisy's already all snuggled up to her plushie, a few messy wisps of hair peeking out from underneath the bundle of sheets and blankets she has buried herself in. Han chuckles at the sight and pats her head tenderly, "Deiji baby...", he whispers, loud enough for her to hear while not disrupting her sleepy state too much.

Squinty sleepy eyes finally look back at him, a mischievous little grin spreading on her lips as she giggles and lifts her blanket up to her face again, hiding underneath, "ah! are we suddenly playing hide and seek now?", Han plays along, tickling her first and then squatting down on the floor so when Daisy removed the blanket she only sees the top of his head.

They play like that back and forth for a few minutes, at least until the little girl starts yawning more frequently and Han recognizes the heavy eyelids falling upon her eyes, "time to go back to sleep", he says sweetly, already adjusting the blankets and tucking her in, "appa is really really proud of you, you are such a good little helper and an amazing older sister to Nari, I love you so much".

Daisy smiles sleepily and cuddles Quokki to her chest, bleary eyes hardly open right now, "I love you dadda", she says in her tiny quiet voice, her father melting entirely. He kissess the top of her head and pats Quokki once, his knees straining with effort when he finally stands up straight again, "I love you more. Sweet dreams baby, sweet dreams Quokki".

[universe-on-her-shoulders]

Prompt: Martha Jones spots The Fourteenth Doctor around London doing a mundane thing like food shopping. Thank you :)

At first, Martha wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that she didn’t recognise him; she’d know that hair and that side profile anywhere, even if he was now clad in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt instead of the long coat she’d been so used to. He was holding a jar of jam, reading the ingredients with bright interest, as though it were the most normal thing in the world to be in Tesco Express at ten o’clock on a Thursday night shopping for preserves; the basket beside him contained further mundanities like bread and milk, and she was so baffled by all of this that she tried to tell herself that it wasn’t him. It couldn’t possibly be him. He was a Time Lord, for god’s sake; he didn’t do dull things like buy pints of semi-skimmed milk or reduced Kingsmill white loaves.

But then he turned away from the shelf, sticking the jar in his basket, and the look on his face took her breath away. For several seconds she surveyed him as he continued to be unaware of her presence, and she tried to put her finger on what had changed. It was the eyes, she thought; there had been so many ghosts behind them when she’d first known him, and now he looked almost… well, serene. Calm. There were no spectres weighing heavily on his shoulders; there was no lingering pain in the easy, contented expression on his face as he scooped up his basket from his feet – still clad in Converse, because some things could never change – and then finally caught sight of her.

“Oh,” he said, the syllable hanging in the air between them for a moment, and she couldn’t read it; was he pleased to see her? Angry? Sad? Guilty? Was he about to cut and run? Then he beamed from ear to ear, really sincerely beamed, and held out his arms to her for – no, that couldn’t be right. He wanted a hug? Since when had he been a hugger? “Martha Jones!”

“Doctor,” she said reservedly, looking him up and down; he was older than he’d been since she last saw him, but all of the tension and impatient anxiety that he’d held within him seemed to have dissipated in the interceding years. Questions crowded her mind; questions about time and space and clothes and the air of contentment and – “Why are you in Tesco in Richmond?”

“Oh,” he said again, with dawning comprehension. “We’re out of bread.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” she asked, unable to stop herself.

“Oh,” he repeated for a third time, then ran a hand through his hair before chancing a glance at the checkouts, and for one awful moment she thought he might be about to bolt. “It’s sort of a long story, actually. Why don’t we pay and find a pub, or something? Unless you’ve got somewhere to be… is Mickey expecting you?”

“He can wait,” she said with amusement, irrationally touched that he’d remembered. “Yeah, alright. Let’s pay.”

“Why are you in Tesco in Richmond?” he enquired, flipping the question back on her with some of the old cheekiness that she was used to. “That’s the real question.”

“Staying with mum for a few weeks while we have the kitchen redone,” she told him as they headed towards the self-checkouts; she started scanning her items while he did the same at an adjacent terminal, and she half expected him to sonic it, or in some way cheat it – space cubes, or god knows what else – but instead he took out an honest-to-god wallet and tapped a perfectly normal credit card on the reader. Her surprise must have shown, because he shot her a sidelong grin as he bundled up his groceries in a canvas tote bag and hefted it onto his shoulder as she swiped her Clubcard and did the same.

“Bit different to the old days, isn’t it?” he said ruefully, and she laughed.

“Yeah, never had you down as a wallet sort of man.”

“It was a present. I lost my last four credit cards.”

“That sounds more like you.”

[aritsukemo]

Gifts | Demon Slayers

Summary: In which someone gives you a gift and they find out.

Characters: Obanai, Kanao, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Kanae

Warnings: Old draft so possibly extra bad grammar mistakes. Majority of these are pretty unserious pretty unserious. Extreme depictions of jealousy ahead ( Obanai and Zenitsu ) Inosuke being Inosuke, aside from that it's pretty fluffy. Female reader is implied ( Some much more than others ) Read at your own volition.

A/N: I start school again on Wednesday and the news has me so depressed that I've been unable to write anything. That said, anything posted in the near future will be scheduled ahead of time. This was written over on my Wattpad some time before I quit. ( Which you can find the full scenario here ) It's nothing much, but it's something.

"Aren't these beautiful?" You gasped out as you presented your boyfriend the glittering bouquet of roses. A beautiful collection in your favorite color and non-stick glitter—something he doesn't recall buying you.

 "They're nice," He replies. His movements slowed as he slides his bag strap over his head and off of his shoulder. His eyes never left the bundle in your polished hands, and you were too busy oogling to notice, but his gaze hardened the longer he stared.

He didn't buy that for you, but they got here somehow. So, did you buy them for yourself? He decides to ask, "Did you buy those for yourself? If so, you didn't have to. If you would've told me, I could've bought that and more for you on my way home."

Your smile widens, "As always, you're the sweetest man I could've ever asked for," and you set the flowers aside at last, granting him the blessing to see your gorgeous, cheesing face as you walked up to him.

You leaned in, planting your lips to his slightly bandaged cheek, and for a moment, the boiling lava that had began to bubble at the base of his chest cooled as did his thoughts. It only lasted for a moment though, because as soon as you parted from him, you replied to his previous question.

 "I actually didn't buy these myself. A coworker of mine did," And that simple response was enough for that volcano inside him explode all over again. Not that you could tell. On the outside, he seemed as calm as usual aside from the many veins flexing from his head that you didn't seem to catch.

 "Oh really?"

You nod your head, "Mhm! But really I should've been the one to give them roses! They close up the restaurant for me all the time so that I don't have to risk the dangers of driving too late at night. Same goes for my shifts! Ever since they were hired, I haven't had to deal with late night weirdos!"

Obanai was nodding along, but not a single one of your words had processed in his head. His mind was on other things, other people—a certain cretin matching your description down to the tee coming to his mind and infuriating him so badly that one would think the lava inside of him would just boil right out through his pores and melt his skin.

But, of course, his voice gave away the exact opposite of what he was feeling when he spoke to you, "Say, love, is the coworker who bought you these also the one who walked you to the car last Friday?"

 "Yeah! I'm glad you remember them!" You obliviously replied and he followed up with, "..And they're working the night shift tonight, right?"

 "Yes..but why are you—"

 "No reason," He simply said to you before leaning in and planting a bandaged, tender kiss to the side of your head, promptly ignoring the confused look you give him as he turns on his heel.

 "I'm going out," He says, your favorite little snake beginning to peak from his clothes as he walked, grabbing his work bag filled with textbooks and graded papers in the process which only left you more befuddled.

 "Huh, but you just got here.. Where are you going?"

 "Don't worry, I won't be long. I'm simply in the mood for takeout. I'll be back with some for us in a little while."

 "..Oh. Well, alright. Be safe!"

"Morning, Kanao!" You chirped after catching her in one of the many hallways of the Butterfly Manor.

At the lovely tune of your voice, her lips—which were moving since she was passing on Shinobu's instructions to a Kakushi—stilled. Her gorgeous lilac eyes seemed to noticeably sparkle as she caught a glimpse of you. Although it could've just been due to the lighting or your imagination..

As the Kakushi left, Kanao made quick strides up to you, her uniform's skirt, which she was still wearing having just got home, swaying with every little sway of her hip or movement of her thighs. She stops before you, allowing you to pull her in and squeeze the daylights out of her, all while wearing her usual smile.

 "I'm so glad you made it back safely!" You said, parting from your crushing hug after a while, "And not a scratch on you! Hehe~!"

After you broke the hug, Kanao's eyes darted down, watching your lips move in a rapid succession as you began rambling about what you did last night. She was listening for the most part, but her eyes never left your mouth which she noticed was rather dolled up and coated by a unfamiliar, but pretty lipgloss.

It was a little darker than what you'd usually wear, but it still fits you perfectly as it contrasted your skin well and ultimately brought out your eyes more. Your smile too—she especially loved how it looked stained in that color.

 "Ah-! Sorry! Did I start rambling?" You said upon the realization, your face beginning to grow hot from embarrassment.

 "Look at me! You just got home and I'm already talking your ear off.." And then your lips dipped down into a small frown, which she'd be lying if she said didn't look just as pretty as your smile when all shiny like that.

As your lips parted to allow another apology to slip out, Kanao leaned in and captured them with her own. It caught you off guard, but on instinct, your mouth closed and only opened again when she eventually parted..

 "I- Kanao.." You were at a lost for words. It wasn't often that she initiated stuff, much less kisses but..damn, did she look good with her lips coated in your new lipgloss.

..Oh, right! That's another reason you were excited to see her. You wanted to show her the new makeup kit you were given! Right! Foucs!

 "Oh, Kanao! This really nice woman gave me a makeup kit for free the other evening while I was out shopping! She called me pretty and said it would suit me! ..Ah, but in the end, I still only have the courage to wear the lipgloss.."

 "Do you.. Do you think I look as nice as the lady told me I'd look..?" You asked, semi-nervous. You couldn't help it. Even though you know there's a bat's chance in hell that she'd insult you, the possibilty was still there. Not that it lasted very long. As soon as you finished talking, Kanao leaned in again, answering your question by deciding to cherish your lips in kiss so sweet, it put Mitsuri's pancakes to shame.

 "Uhm..Inosuke. What exactly am I looking at?" You questioned as you stared at the ring in your palms which was currently staining your hands brown and let off a putrid odor.

 "It's a flower crown! I made it myself!" He said proudly, puffing his chest as he did so. You couldn't help the way your brows knit together.

 "Is that so.." You mumbled out, trying to find the right words to say about this..gift.

Flower crown, he said, but there's not a flower in sight. Just twigs forced together by wet, sticky mud. It was nothing like the pretty arrangement set atop your head right now that was given to you by Kanao and certainly not as nice smelling. Nevertheless, you stretch a smile on your face and tell him in the most convincing happy tone you could muster, "Thanks, Inosuke! I'll cherish it!"

Unfortunately for you, that doesn't seem to satisfy him. After you thanked him, he went silent, staring at you for a long while. You had to resist the urge to scratch your cheek and stain it with mud to alleviate the awkward feeling in your gut..

 "What's wrong?" You asked, the color draining from your face when he told you, "Put it on."

 "B- But, I already have a crown on," You said, your smile crinkling at the ends, "And two crowns would look silly.."

 "Then take off that one," He said in a 'duh' tone of voice. Your smile wrinkles even more.

 "Uhm..b- but if I do that..then the mud will melt away and I won't be able to wear again— Yeah!" You stammered, "I think Tanjiro said it'll rain soon! You spent so long working on this..uh- wonderful crown for me that I wouldn't want it to get ruined!"

Inosuke pauses, and for each second of silence that passed, the image of your head soiled by mud as twigs poked you became clearer and clearer. Luckily, the next words Inosuke says are just what you were praying to hear.

 "I knew that!" He said, "Obviously, I was just testing you to see if you knew that it would rain soon!" And you sighed out a breath of pure relief as you nodded your head.

 "Right, right.. Of course," You said, "Glad I passed the test then."

 "And I promise, I'll wear it as soon as the rain passes," You ended up leaving it out by 'accident' in the end. Best part is that you had managed to stray so far away from the topic of the gift that Inosuke eventually forgot about it! ..Unfortunately, it was at the cost of the flower crown Kanao made you as you found it too risky to wear it around your boyfriend out of fear he'll remember that god awful mud crown.

 "I'ma kill him!" Your boyfriend said, veins flexing from every angle of his face with nothing short of murder in his whited out eyes.

 "Zenitsu," You called sternly, "Don't you dare." But it doesn't seem that he was willing to listen to reason. That said, you latched onto him as soon as he began walking. Nevertheless, Zenitsu was as determined as ever and kept trying to walk away. With you being physically stronger, however, he didn't get anywhere and was forced to walk in place.

 "It's was just a kiss on the cheek. Plus he's a literal child," You said, causing the man you loved to look back at you with eyes of betrayal.

 "Exactly! A kiss on the cheek! That squirt tainted my girlfriend's cheek with his lips!" He shrieked before his head turned as did his tone, changing to one much more aggressive as he said, "He needs to be dealt with!"

 "No one is getting dealt with!" You yelled, "I'm not letting you hurt a kid who's done nothing wrong!" And you turned and began walking away, arm still tightly gripping your boyfriend's arm. Zenitsu had no choice but to be dragged away by you, steam practically blowing out of his ears as he caught a glimpse at the little boy who kissed you—who was laughing and grinning from ear to ear.

He's never wanted to dice someone up more in his life.

 "Oh my," The drawled chime of your girlfriend's surprise was the first thing you heard when you stepped into the common room. It causes your eyes to wander, trailing over to the couch where Kanae was waiting for you with a smile on her face.

 "I know it's been some time since we've last spent time together, but you didn't have to dress up for me. Not that I'm complaining," Her glossed lips parts, opening just enough for her to slide her cup between them. She then speaks, her voice bouncing around and vibrating the cup, making ripples in the tea inside, "There's nothing better than having a nice view while you drink or eat something, makes it taste ten times better!"

You could feel your skin being set aflame at her words, but you played it off in the best way you could; by giggling like a little girl.

 "Well aren't you the smooth talker," You said as you walked up to her. Your hand reaching out to accept the cup she had begun to raise in your direction, "Are you trying to fluster me or something? If so, it'll take a lot more than pretty words."

 "Not at all," She says, but her smile told you otherwise. Not that you cared enough to call it out, deciding to sit beside her instead, "But really, I'm surprised! That type of clothing isn't something you tend to wear after all."

 "Shinazugawa bought it for me a while back. We were out on a mission togther and my clothes were in tatters by the end of the fight. Since it was raining, he took me to the first inn he could find and bought the first thing he saw at the market we passed through and told me to put it on," You explained, adding, "And that something happened to look like somehing out of a fairytale.."

 "Is that so? He really did that?" She said, her voice pitching as her tone perked up, "He's come such a long way from that meeting! I'm so happy for him!" And then she takes another sip of her tea, "Next time I see him, I'll pass on my thanks to him for his kindness!"

 "Pass on mines as well," You said, reaching for one of the many treats set on the table, "He went out on his next mission while I was changing so I never got the chance to."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[rylem33]

The Camera Doesn't Lie

I hope you all enjoy this new story. If you liked it, you can find it and all of my 100+ stories over at my blog (link on my Tumblr home page).

Eliza tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she wandered through the antique stalls. The final project for her sociology course was her chance to make a difference. Her theme, The Faces of Strength, aimed to shine a light on the struggles of the homeless community. Her professor had been thrilled with her idea, praising her for her empathy and commitment.

But Eliza wasn’t here for praise. “I just…want to help them,” she’d said during their last discussion.

As she scanned the market, her eyes landed on an old, sleek camera resting in a faded velvet case. 

“Excuse me,” she called to the shopkeeper, an older man with a wiry beard. “Does this camera work?”

“Ah,” he said, his smile spreading as he picked it up and held it out. “The Iris 2000. It’s a special piece. A real classic.”

Eliza looked it over, intrigued by the faint engraving on the lens. “How much?”

“For you? Twenty bucks.”

Her brow furrowed. “That seems fair.”

The old man chuckled. “I think you’ll enjoy the results.”

The price was within her limited budget. She handed over the cash and tucked the camera into her bag.

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The community center’s main hall was decorated with string lights and colorful banners that Eliza and a handful of volunteers had painstakingly set up the night before. Tables were piled high with donated coats, gloves, and blankets, and the scent of warm casseroles and fresh bread wafted from the buffet line.

Eliza stood near the donations table, hands on her hips, surveying the scene with pride. Weeks of planning, endless emails, and sleepless nights had culminated in this charity dinner and giveaway for the local homeless community.

Beside her, Lisa, a fellow volunteer, was unpacking another box of donations. “You really outdid yourself this time, Eliza,” Lisa said, pulling out a bundle of knitted scarves.

“Thanks,” Eliza said with a tired but genuine smile. “I just wanted everyone to feel cared for tonight, you know? A warm meal, some essentials…it’s the least we can do.”

Lisa paused, holding up a bright orange bikini with a baffled expression. “Okay, but…what about this?”

Eliza turned, her eyebrows shooting up as she stifled a laugh. “Seriously? Someone donated a bikini? A bright orange bikini. In the middle of winter?”

Lisa chuckled, dangling the bikini from her fingers. “Yeah, because this is definitely what you wear when it’s twenty degrees outside.”

Eliza shook her head, laughing. “I guess someone was really cleaning house.” She grabbed the bikini and tossed it into the corner of the box. “Let’s stick to coats and boots for tonight, huh?”

“Agreed,” Lisa said, grinning.

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The community center was alive with guests lined up for the buffet and sifting through tables of donated supplies. Eliza and Lisa worked tirelessly, darting between guests to answer questions, restock tables, and keep everything running smoothly.

“Eliza, we’re running low on gloves over here,” Lisa called from across the room.

“Got it!” Eliza said, grabbing a box from the supply corner and weaving through the crowd.

As she set the gloves on the table, her eyes fell on the camera tucked into her bag. She froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. The project! I completely forgot about the photos.

She hurried over to her bag and pulled out the sleek, vintage camera she’d bought earlier that week. Its weight felt satisfying in her hands as she adjusted the lens.

“Hey, Lisa!” she called, raising her voice above the chatter.

Lisa appeared a moment later, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “What’s up?”

“I need pictures for my project,” Eliza said, holding up the camera. “I was going to document the event, but it’s so busy I almost forgot.”

Lisa smiled. “Oh, right! That’s a great idea.”

Eliza aimed the camera at the tables filled with donated items, adjusting the frame. But before she could take the shot, Lisa stopped her.

“Wait,” Lisa said, placing a hand on Eliza’s arm. “You should be in the picture.”

Eliza frowned, lowering the camera slightly. “What? No, that’s not the point. It’s supposed to be about the event, not me.”

Lisa gave her a knowing look. “Come on, Eliza. You put all of this together. You should be in at least one picture to show the hard work you’ve done.”

“I don’t know…” Eliza hesitated, glancing around at the bustling room.

Lisa tilted her head and smiled encouragingly. “It’s your project. People will want to know who’s behind all this. Just one picture, for context.”

Eliza sighed, reluctant but unable to argue with Lisa’s logic. “Fine. But just one.”

Lisa grinned and gestured for Eliza to stand by a table piled with scarves, coats, and blankets. “Okay, stand here. Maybe hold one of the items to make it look natural.”

Eliza grabbed a thick scarf and draped it over her arm, standing stiffly beside the table.

“Relax a little,” Lisa said, laughing as she adjusted the camera. “You look like you’re posing for a passport photo.”

Eliza forced a smile, adjusting her posture. “Better?”

“Much. Hold still—aaaand…perfect.”

Click.

The flash of the camera was surprisingly bright, and for a moment, Eliza felt disoriented. She blinked, rubbing her eyes as the sensation faded.

Lisa lowered the camera and smiled. “There you go. See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Eliza nodded, though her thoughts lingered on the odd feeling from the flash. She glanced down at herself, smoothing her sweater absently.

“You okay?” Lisa asked, noticing her distraction.

“Yeah,” Eliza said quickly, brushing it off. “Must’ve just been the light. Let me see the picture.”

Lisa turned the camera around to show her the screen. Eliza stared at the image.

There was something about the picture, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, that made her look…better.

“Huh,” she said softly.

Lisa grinned. “You look amazing, Eliza. Like a natural.”

“Yeah…” Eliza murmured, unable to look away. “I guess that old camera takes better pictures than my phone.”

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Eliza moved away from the donations table and spotted Tony, a familiar face among the guests, sitting near the buffet line with a plate piled high with food.

“Tony!” she called out, her smile bright and warm as she approached.

He looked up, his face breaking into a grin. “Eliza! You’ve outdone yourself this time. This is incredible.”

Eliza slid into the seat across from him, waving off the compliment. “It’s not just me. A lot of people worked hard to make this happen.”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, but you’re the one who brought us all together. You should be proud.”

Her chest swelled at his words, she felt pride, but satisfaction at the recognition. Maybe Lisa was right about being in the pictures.

“Thanks, Tony,” she said, her tone soft. “I just wanted everyone to feel cared for, even if it’s just for one night.”

“That’s why you’re the best,” he said, his grin widening.

Before Eliza could respond, she noticed Lisa nearby, camera in hand.

“Smile!” Lisa called, and before Eliza could react, the flash went off.

Click.

Eliza blinked, again momentarily disoriented by the light. This time, she felt oddly warm.

“Lisa!” she said, half-laughing as she turned toward her friend. “A little warning next time?”

Lisa grinned sheepishly. “Sorry! But it’s such a great moment. I couldn’t resist.”

Eliza hesitated, her annoyance fading as she caught sight of the camera. She touched her hair, smoothing it absentmindedly.

“Do you want to take another one?” Lisa offered, holding up the camera.

Eliza hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah, okay. One more.”

She turned toward Lisa, adjusting her posture and tilting her head slightly. Her smile was more deliberate this time.

Click.

The rush was immediate. Her heart beat faster, and she felt her lips curl into a wider smile.

Lisa lowered the camera, laughing. “See? You look great again.”

Tony chuckled. “Eliza, you’re a natural. Maybe you should be in the pictures more often.”

Eliza turned toward him, her smile bright but sharper than before. “Well,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “it doesn’t hurt to show people who’s responsible for all this.”

Tony blinked, the words catching him a bit off guard. “Uh, yeah. You’ve earned it.”

“Exactly,” Eliza said, her tone carrying a hint of satisfaction. She glanced back at Lisa. “Let me know if you need more shots for the project.”

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Eliza strode toward the dessert table, clicking her heels as she walked. She stopped as she passed a wall-mounted mirror, tilting her head as she studied herself. Her hair seemed shinier. Her skin, usually blotchy after a long day of volunteering, had a smooth glow.

She reached up, brushing a hand over her cheek. I didn’t even put on makeup today, she thought, her lips curling into a slight smile.

“Looking good, Eliza,” she muttered to herself before a flicker of confusion crept in. Wait—heels? She glanced down. Sure enough, the sturdy flats she’d been wearing earlier were now sleek black heels.

Her brows furrowed, but she brushed the thought aside with a shrug. It’s been a busy night. Maybe I grabbed the wrong shoes on my way out.

“Come on, Lisa!” she called over her shoulder, the sound of her heels clicking against the tile floor growing oddly satisfying.

Lisa hurried to catch up, the camera swinging from her hand. “Where to next?”

Eliza gestured toward the dessert table, where Ms. Louise was chatting with another guest. “Over there. Let’s get some more shots.”

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Ms. Louise looked up as Eliza approached, her face lighting up. “Eliza! You’re making the rounds tonight, huh?”

Eliza smiled, her teeth startlingly white. “Of course. I want to make sure everyone’s having a good time.”

Louise gestured to the pie on her plate. “You’ve outdone yourself. This event is amazing.”

“Of course it is,” she said smoothly. “I mean, let’s be honest, who else could’ve pulled this off?”

Louise blinked. “Well, it’s clear you’ve worked hard…”

“Hard?” Eliza interrupted with a laugh. “Louise, this took more than just hard work. It took vision. Talent. And, well…” She gestured vaguely to herself. “Not everyone can manage something like this.”

Louise hesitated, her gratitude faltering. “You’re a real blessing, you know that?”

Eliza’s smile widened. “Oh, I know,” she said, her voice dripping with self-satisfaction. “But it’s nice to hear it said out loud.”

Lisa stepped closer, raising the camera. “Can I grab a picture of you two?”

“Of course,” Eliza said, immediately straightening her posture. She glanced at Ms. Louise, her smile faltering slightly. “Louise, maybe sit up a little straighter? And wipe that smudge off your cheek.”

Louise blinked, flustered. “Oh, sure.” She quickly dabbed at her cheek with a napkin, her movements hurried.

Lisa hesitated, glancing between the two women. “Uh, ready?”

“Ready,” Eliza said, her pose relaxed but deliberate, her chin tilted just enough to catch the light.

Click.

The rush she felt was instant. Eliza felt her heart race as warmth spread through her chest and down her arms. Her dress, once loose and practical, clung to her figure in a way that accentuated her curves.

She ran a hand over her waist, her brows knitting briefly. Did this dress shrink?

“Looks great,” Lisa said, lowering the camera.

“Let me see,” Eliza demanded, stepping forward.

Lisa handed her the camera, and Eliza’s lips parted slightly as she stared at the image. Her hair looked longer and lighter. And her figure looked good, no…striking.

She handed the camera back with a satisfied smile. “Perfect,” she said, glancing at Ms. Louise. “See? You look good when you try.”

Ms. Louise hesitated, her smile faltering. “Uh…thanks, I guess.”

“Take another one of just me,” she said as she nudged Louise to the side.

“Umm, okay,” Lisa replied.

Click.

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Eliza stepped onto the stage, her heels clicking against the polished wood. She turned, letting the lights hit her just right, and gestured for Lisa to follow.

“Everything okay?” Lisa asked, stepping up beside her.

Eliza blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Yeah, fine,” she said quickly, flipping her hair over one shoulder. “Just…thinking about the next shot.”

Lisa raised the camera. “What are you thinking?”

Eliza turned to the stage, a slow smile spreading across her lips. “Let’s get one of me up here,” she said, her voice edged with excitement.

Lisa hesitated. “You sure? I thought we were focusing on the guests.”

Eliza’s smile tightened. “This is my project, Lisa. People need to see who made this happen.”

Lisa frowned but nodded, following Eliza as she stepped onto the stage.

“Over here,” she said, her voice sharp. “Stand by the aisle so you can get the full angle.”

Lisa hesitated, glancing around at the guests who had started to notice. “Eliza, are you sure? This feels…a little much.”

Eliza’s gaze snapped to Lisa, her eyes narrowing. “Do you want these pictures to turn out well or not?” she snapped.

Lisa flinched but moved into position, raising the camera.

Eliza’s smile returned, layered on thick for the camera. She tilted her head slightly, her pose effortless and confident. “Make sure you get my whole body in the frame. And don’t forget the lights behind me, I want everything to look perfect.”

Lisa’s hands tightened around the camera, but she nodded. “Fine. Ready?”

“Always,” Eliza said.

Click.

She stepped forward, grabbing the camera out of Lisa’s hands. “Let me see.”

Eliza studied the photo, her lips curving into a satisfied smirk. She looked…stunning. 

“This is amazing,” she murmured, handing the camera back without looking at Lisa. “Keep going. We’re on a roll.”

“Eliza…” Lisa’s voice was hesitant. “Don’t you think we should…”

“Lisa,” Eliza interrupted, her tone icy. “You’re here to help me, right? So help me.”

Lisa’s jaw tightened, but she did as she was told.

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Eliza descended the stage, her heels clicking loudly as she approached a group of guests near the dessert table. She smiled broadly, her gaze sweeping over them like a spotlight.

“Hey, everyone,” she said, her voice warm but calculated. “Mind if we get a picture?”

The group nodded eagerly, shuffling into position.

Eliza stepped to the center, gesturing for them to move slightly. “You, stand over there. And you, don’t slouch. This is going to be in my project, so we need to look our best.”

One of the women hesitated, her smile faltering. “Oh, um…okay.”

“Perfect,” Eliza said, brushing off the hesitation as she adjusted her hair. “Lisa, take it from this angle. And make sure you don’t cut me off.”

Lisa raised the camera, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Ready?”

“Of course,” Eliza said, her smile bright but shallow.

Click.

Eliza quickly examined the picture.  Her hair seemed even lighter, and the faintest glint of gold appeared in her earrings.  When did I put on earrings?

“You look great, Eliza,” one of the guests said, her voice soft with admiration.

Eliza flashed a fake smile.. “Thanks. You could look good too, if you cleaned up a bit and knew how to pose.”

The woman blinked, her face falling as she looked at her second hand clothes.

“Don’t worry,” Eliza added smoothly. “It’s just something to think about for next time.”

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“Eliza…” Lisa started, her voice trembling. “Do you…hear yourself?”

Eliza stopped, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she turned to face Lisa. Her smirk was icy, her patience thin. “What are you babbling about now?”

“You,” Lisa said, gesturing with a shaky hand. “The way you’re acting. The way you’re treating people. This isn’t you.”

Eliza raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Oh, really? And who exactly am I, Lisa?”

Lisa stepped forward, her expression desperate. “You’re kind. Compassionate. The Eliza I know cares about people. She doesn’t talk down to them or treat them like props for some project.”

Eliza laughed, the sound sharp and cold. “Is that what you think this is? A little project? Please, Lisa. This is my work. My success. And if you can’t see that, maybe you’re not as smart as I thought.”

Lisa flinched but held her ground. “You’re being cruel, Eliza. Do you even hear yourself? You’re treating everyone like they’re beneath you. This isn’t the person who planned this event.”

“Oh, please,” Eliza snapped, her eyes narrowing. “This event wouldn’t even exist without me. None of it would. So, excuse me if I expect a little gratitude for everything I’ve done.”

Lisa’s mouth fell open, her face pale. “That’s not… I’m worried about you!”

“Worried?” Eliza’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Don’t bother. I’ve never been better. Maybe you should stop worrying about me and start worrying about yourself.”

Lisa stepped back, stunned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Eliza said, her voice dripping with venom, “you’re just bitter because for once, it’s not all about you. Admit it, Lisa, you can’t handle the fact that I’m the one in charge. That I’m the one everyone’s looking at tonight.”

Lisa shook her head, her grip tightening on the camera. “That’s not true. I’m just trying to help…”

“Spare me,” Eliza spat, cutting her off. “You’re just a jealous little bitch who can’t stand not being the center of attention.”

Lisa flinched as if she’d been slapped, her hands shaking.

“Give me that,” Eliza demanded, snatching the camera from Lisa’s hands before she could respond.

“Eliza, wait…”

But Eliza was already turning away, her stride purposeful as she headed toward the donation pile, the click of her heels echoing through the room.

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She reached the table piled high with clothes and supplies. Her eyes scanned the pile until they landed on the bright orange bikini she and Lisa had laughed about earlier.

Her lips curled into a slow smile as she picked it up, holding the fabric between her fingers.

“Eliza,” Lisa’s voice came from behind her, strained and pleading. “What are you doing?”

Eliza turned, the bikini dangling from her fingers. “I’m just putting all the donations to good use. It’s not like any of these people could wear it anyway.”

Lisa stared at her, horror etched across her face. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious,” Eliza said, her voice low and sharp.

Without another word, Eliza turned and strutted toward the back room, her golden hair bouncing with each step.

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Eliza entered the room, the orange bikini clutched tightly in her hands. Her heart was racing. 

Standing before the mirror, she held up the bikini, smirking as its bright color contrasted against her hair. Why not? she thought. It wasn’t like anyone else would appreciate it the way she could.

She pulled off her dress, noticing for the first time how much her body had changed. Her waist was narrower, her stomach flat and toned. Her thighs were long and lean, her arms sculpted like she’d spent hours at the gym.

The bikini fit perfectly. Eliza ran her hands down her sides, her smirk widening.

I look…incredible.

“Let’s see what this baby can do,” she muttered, angling the camera toward herself.

She struck a pose, hips cocked, lips slightly parted, and snapped the first selfie.

Click.

The flash hit, and the familiar hum surged through her, stronger than ever. Eliza gasped as the changes rippled through her body. Her hair lightened further, turning an icy platinum blonde. Her lips plumped, forming a perfect pout, and her cheekbones sharpened, giving her a high-fashion model look.

She stared at herself in the camera’s display, her heart racing. “God, I’m gorgeous,” she whispered, her voice carrying a new sultry edge.

Eliza adjusted her posture, turning slightly to show off her profile. She raised the camera again, a look of excitement in her eyes.

Click.

Another flash, another rush. Her body grew more defined, her chest fuller, her waist impossibly narrow, her hips curving just right. Tattoos appeared on her arms and ribs, delicate but striking, adding to her newfound allure.

She ran her fingers over the ink, her smirk growing. “Perfect,” she purred.

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“Eliza!” Lisa’s voice called from the hallway.

Eliza turned toward the sound, her smirk fading into a scowl. Her again? She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

Lisa appeared, her expression a mix of confusion and alarm. “Eliza, what are you…” Her words trailed off as her eyes widened, taking in the transformation.

“Do you mind?” Eliza snapped, gesturing to the camera. “I’m in the middle of something.”

Lisa blinked, struggling to process what she was seeing. “Eliza, what’s happening to you? You’re…”

“Beautiful?” Eliza interrupted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, I know.”

Lisa took a hesitant step forward. “This isn’t right. You’re acting…cruel. And that camera…”

“Is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Eliza finished, cutting her off. She turned back to the mirror, raising the camera once more. “Maybe you should try it. God knows you could use some improvement.”

Lisa flinched, her face pale. “Eliza, stop. Please.”

But Eliza ignored her, snapping another picture.

Click.

She turned to Lisa, her gaze cold and dismissive. “You can go now,” she said, waving a hand as if shooing away a pest.

Lisa stared at her, tears brimming in her eyes. “Eliza, don’t do this.”

Eliza laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. “Oh, Lisa. It’s already done. And if you can’t see that, then you’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

She spun on her heel, the camera still clutched in her hand, and strutted away without a second glance, her every step oozing confidence and superiority.

The crowd at the event turned to stare as she re-entered the room, their faces a mix of shock and awe. But Eliza didn’t care. Let them look. Let them admire.

After all, this was her moment.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Sticks and Stones: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (2) Resolved to make an effort, Loki tries his best. But old habits die hard, some harder than others. Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Ex-Loki. Smut references/ Wankst. Humour/Mild angst. (w/c 4.8k) Recommended Folklore Track: Mirrorball

“Oh blast it all,” Thor wailed like a child, throwing a pile of sticks to the side. Another bundle of promising kindle had turned to mush in his hands.

“We need to find ones that aren’t wet, Odinson – I told you. Sometimes they don’t seem wet, but they are wet.” Steve instructed, standing abruptly from where he’d sat on his haunches. Dismay was thick in the air. “Everything is wet here, Rogers." Thor whinged, kicking leaves. "The allusive flame taunts me.”

Loki sucked in his cheeks. The urge to expel a witty innuendo was almost unbearable. But he was trying to be amenable. Turning over a new leaf, as it were.

When the four of them had trudged back to the cottage last night, Loki had turned in to his sparse lodgings immediately with only the most cursory of bedtime salutations. To his surprise, sleep had descended quickly. He had been expecting to toss and turn for hours on that thin single bed, cursing Rogers and his brother and you; each with the time and thoroughness that was due. But he had slept well. And when he woke, the smell of bacon wafting through the floorboards greeted him.

Your laughter chimed against the clatter of porcelain downstairs, his brothers following suit. He had snuggled deeper into the lumpy pillow, inhaling in the way he used to against your hair. And now, beneath a canopy of green and gold autumnal majesty, they had made camp for this morning’s torture; fire-building. Loki buried his hands in another damp pile of foliage, grasping a hunk of twigs he found there. To hel with it, he thought as he closed his eyes; feeling secretive warmth spreading from his fingertips. Magic wrapped around each stick of wood concealed beneath copper leaves, drying it instantly. He glanced over to you, thrumming some moss between your fingers. “I found some dry ones,” he said nonchalantly, hoping it sounded believable.

You peered at his outstretched hands. “Oh yeah…” you replied. Loki frowned as your attention swung back to the wisped moss being pulled apart in your fingertips. “Well, let’s get this show on the road.” Thor looked over at his brother, aghast. “Cheater,” he rumbled loudly. To his side, only Steve’s ass was visible, shaking side to side as he still searched on his hands and knees through the undergrowth for where dry wood might lurk. Loki turned, one palm facing up. A column of ferocious flame burst from his skin, funnelling up like a portal. The sound of its violence ripped the air, squawks of local wildlife jibbering in the trees above. Steve lost his balance, falling to the side into the shrubbery. He let out a strangled cry, while Thor scooted backwards and knocked him further into the bushes.

“If I wanted to cheat,” Loki snarled, “there would be much easier ways to do so, brother.”

As quickly as it appeared, the flame ceased.

Loki turned back to you, smoothing his anorak. “Sorry about that,” he quipped with a cheerful smile.

In the time it had taken to complete his theatrics, you had selected one of his pile which you deemed suitable. You turned it over in your hands, fingers curled around the trunk of the weighty stick. Loki swallowed thickly. The innocently sensual glint in your eyes as you looked at it was almost too much to bear. Or maybe it was his imagination.

You hadn’t raised a smile all day, after all. He knelt on his haunches, mirroring your intrigue while you ran a finger down the larger stick. “We need to whittle a groove down here” you said. Loki nodded, moving his eyes between the line your digit took and your face.

Your eyes met.

He saw your gaze drop to his lips, only for a millisecond. “Could you?” you whispered, avoiding eye contact again.

In a flash of green, Loki produced a short dagger. He held it to you, handle first.

“I mean really we should use the one in your pack,” you smirked, eyeing Steve brushing sodden leaves from his ass as Thor fumbled fruitlessly in the undergrowth in a last ditch attempt. Loki felt his heart pound faster. He saw his chance. “But mine is better, Agent” he murmured darkly. “You know that.” “Guys – come over, please!” you shouted over his shoulder. Loki flinched. Truly, she now immune from my overtures, he mused bitterly; remembering the times a line like that would have had you groaning in his ear like a harlot.

He smoothed a rakish curl back from his forehead, collecting himself while his brother and the captain gathered round. Thor was muttering Asgardian curses under his breath, his hair wild. Twigs stuck out at obscure angles, a small slug clinging to the scruff of his jawline. Loki peeled it off, flicking it away.

“I think not that I was made for nature, brother,” Thor lamented under his breath. Loki chuckled, cut short as his dagger, poised in your hand, began to cut away at the centre of the large stick. There was a sharp intake of breath beside him. “That’s not standard issue,” Steve chided quietly, lips hardening. Loki folded his arms, elbowing Rogers in the process. “Watch what I’m doing,” you said sternly, eyeing the men with suspicion. They stood in rapt attention, watching every rut of the blade, every splinter and chunk which sprung forth. But not Loki.

Loki watched your face. Each furrow of your brow, flick of concentration, ghost of a smile as you looked with satisfaction at the result. “Perfect,” you murmured to yourself, running a cautious fingertip through the rough groove. “Now what?” Thor grunted. “Tis still a damnable stick.” You laughed the sweetest, most condescending laugh that Loki had ever heard.

It made his heart twist in his chest. “Now...you each take one of these” you handed each of them a smaller stick from Loki's haul. Loki’s was the longest.

A smirk curled the corners of his mouth against his better judgement. You rolled your eyes, snatching it back and switching it with Steve. “Sharpen these, so they are at a 45 degree angled point. Remember your angles from yesterday, Thor?” Thor frowned. You made the angle with your forearm. “Ah, yes” he smiled. “The little mountain.” For the next few minutes, Loki felt your appraising stare fall on him in intervals. He crafted his edge to perfection, sliding the dagger’s blade so close to the wood’s bark it almost shone. The rough hacking of the other men’s pocketknives peppered the air. Aside from that, and birdsong, there was silence.

When all of them had finished, you called them back around a small, cleared patch of forest floor. The branch with the groove you had made lay on the ground. The three men stared at it, sharpened sticks in hand. Suddenly it all felt very...human. They glanced at each other vacantly. “Loki?” you chirped, gesturing to the ground. He raised an eyebrow.

“On my knees?” he heard himself purr, the feigned incredulity palpable. You nodded sternly, just once.

“Very well,” he murmured, sinking down.

His knees hit the leaves with a crisp, gentle thump.

Immediately, wetness began to seep into the fabric. Like the gusset of her underwear, he mulled. He looked up at you the way he used to while you would have him kiss up your thighs, yanking his hair as he atoned for some imagined grave misdeed with sexual favour. The essence of his vulnerability. A rarity, only for you. He was such a slut for you, back then. Anything you desired. Anything he desired- “Loki?!” you snapped. He had been staring at your chest, eyes glazed. Carefully, he tilted his chin upwards. “Apologies,” he husked. The swallow which bobbed in your throat made his loins ache. Your voice was high. Higher than she intends, surely; he thought.

“Kind of...position it so the big stick with the groove is between your knees-” you’d said.

Loki shuffled, straddling the branch. It brushed the bulge of his cock pulsing lightly against his trousers. “Between my thighs, you say?” he asked innocently. “No, your knees. Well – thighs, sort of yes. Just keep it steady.” You were becoming flustered, Loki noticed. Loki liked that.

You bent down slightly, touching the hard round of his bicep before recoiling like it was a hot stove. “You um...hold the stick like this, no...like-”

Kneeling beside him, you adjusted the angle of his hands to grip the smaller, pointed stick. “That’s it...and then you rub it back and-” you swallowed, “-back and forth. On the one between your thighs. Knees.” Loki bit his lip, beginning to do just that. The sound was awful as his pace quickened after the first few strokes. Scraping, raw squeals that jarred the air.

“Like this?” he panted. A mist of sweat was forming at his hairline. He could feel it tingle.

“Like that,” you replied shakily. Your breaths were short. They were in time with the thrust of his arms as you hovered by his shoulder, guiding his wrist as it pumped back and forth. Thor and Steve glanced silently at each other, brows raised.

Loki saw Thor’s jaw drop from the corner of his eye, a meaty finger protruding from one straightened arm to the smoke beginning to waft from the groove. “Look, Rogers…” he gasped with the wonder of a child. The smoke became thicker, billowing in heavy flow. You fumbled to the side, grabbing some tufts of dried moss.

“Now tip it in, tip the ash in-” you said frantically, barely contained excitement in your voice. Loki complied, watching as the smouldering embers blossomed within the web of moss.

“Be careful,” he whispered, setting the stick in his hands down. He brought them up protectively around the moss. You held it forward, “blow, Loki” you murmured, keeping your eyes fixed on the small ball which had begun to smoke.

“Blow?” he said, forehead creasing while you nodded. Your eyes narrowed at the tuft clenched between your fingers. “Until you get-” “-a spark,” Loki finished quietly.

He blew on the moss, flinching as the vegetation burst with flame. Thor and Steve gasped, crowding round as you dropped the raging ball of fire to the groove of the stick below. You grabbed Loki’s spear, prodding the moss. Loki opened his mouth and closed it again.

He felt that he should be bored. Or annoyed. Longing for home comforts and solitude or some such. But, admittedly, he would not have thought of this whole scenario. Against his wishes, he had learned something.

What you had done? How you had transformed nothing into...something. Like magic. When he set fire to things, he cared not how they burned. Just that they burned. And, Loki thought, they always do.

After what felt like an eternity, Loki closed the door to the cottage and turned the key.

He was the last one in, favouring a meandering pace behind the three others huddled together in a jovial formation. Water saturated him, rolling in thick droplets from his forehead down the carve of his jawline. He had never known rain like it. It had fallen like milk, heavy and thick and relentless in every direction.

Hair was plastered to his skull, to his neck. It stuck in clumpy tendrils and made a weird noise against the garish anorak when he moved. He flicked his hands forward with frustration. The clench of his stomach against the soaking fleece made him shudder.

After the first attempt, he had reluctantly admitted there was no point in drying himself every ten seconds. Even magic, he had surmised, was no match for the English countryside.

Muffled roars sounded from the living room. Loki rounded the corner, cursing every squelching step. Predictably, his brother’s head was lodged in the soaking neck of his roll neck sweater. His hiking trousers lay in a bedraggled heap on the floor, water pooling around them through the floorboards. Muddy bootprints were smeared in circles over the rug. Steve held the hem of the sweater, rolled over Thor’s head and arms, yanking it. “I’m going-to take-your gosh-darned-head-off,” he grunted; before there was a wet pop. Thor stumbled backwards, landing in a chair in the corner. He began to laugh.

Loki rolled his eyes. “I wish to bathe,” he said plainly before turning to the doorway. Steve’s eyes widened. “The lady got first dibs, Laufeyson. You’ll have to wait. Shouldn’t have dallied on the ridge.” Loki froze, a grimace descending.

He closed his eyes, clicking his neck with a tilt to the side. Thor laughed, shaking his head. He pointed to Loki, then to Steve. “What need have we three of hot baths?”

“Speak not to me of my affinity of baths. Tis you who had your very own bathhouse on Asgard” Loki snarled. He rolled his molars, the deep chill setting into his bones only half born from the wet clothes sticking to every crevice. He looked longingly at the bathroom door, thinking of what lay out of reach. The sweet caress of hot water on his aching muscles, covering his weather-worn limbs with the kiss of a million bubbles that only sought to bring him pleasure. A vision of your naked body sinking in foam fluttered in front of his waking eyes, your lips parted to the ceiling as you let your thighs fall open-

The boiler made an alarming rattle in the kitchen.

“I’ll check it,” he muttered, casting a final glance to the bathroom door as he passed. He heard a splash. And then a small groan of satisfaction.

In the kitchen, Loki gripped the counter-lip and hung his head. He stared at the greyed cream of the surface while seidr rolled up his body, every inch of sodden fabric plastered to him airing free. A waft hit his hair, blowing it over his shoulders. Shaking it back, his eyes meeting the row of mis-matched mugs from yesterday. “When in Nilfheim,” he mumbled to himself like a mantra.

He returned to the living room, three steaming mugs in hand. The others had managed to light a stove in the corner and were now wearing pyjamas. Tops and bottoms, Loki noticed. A rarity indeed. He looked again at the fire. The flames were small, but they were there. He decided to be pleasant. “Did you use the groove technique?” Loki smiled, setting a mug down on the armrest of Thor’s chair. The men laughed while Loki straightened, staring pensively into the licking flames. With mild interest, the god realised that this was the first time he had been in this room. No mean feat, considering that the cottage only had three downstairs. The kitchen, the bathroom, and this one. He glanced around at the sparse décor, as antiquated and dulled and beige as the other spaces. “I remember those,” Steve nodded, aiming towards a radio on a corner-shelf. Loki chuckled, before sipping his tea. He smacked his lips. “Honestly, Rogers. What possessed you to house us in this place? Surely there are nicer.” Steve shrugged. “I thought it would be good for us,” he said, brushing his pyjama bottoms. “I mean, look at this chair!?” Loki exclaimed, gesturing to where his brother sprawled. It was some kind of cream leather, cracked at the worn areas where a thousand mortal arses had sat. Stains adorned the peel of its chafed skin. “A son of Odin, in a chair such as that. It’s insulting.” The words were bitter, but a playful smile tugged at his lips. Steve saw it. “Actually it is rather comfortable, brother” Thor piped up. He re-adjusted himself, leaning backwards, “rather comfortable indee-” In a flash, his tea sloshed in the air; hands flying to grip the armrest as the whole chair slid back to a lying position. Loki jumped to his feet, seidr fizzling in the palms of his hands. “Calm down,” Steve said, patting Loki’s lower back. “It’s a recliner, it’s supposed to do that. Had those in my day too.”

There was silence but for the crackling of the fire which had grown to a healthy blaze. It was comfortable. Loki quietly transformed his clothes to the flannel pyjama bottoms that had lain neatly folded beneath his pillow upstairs. “What about the top? You’ll freeze.” Steve murmured, pulling his mug closer to his chin. Loki smiled, shaking his head. Fresh curls bounced around his collarbone. “I think not that a thin layer of cotton will help in that regard, Rogers.” “Modesty, then” Steve scoffed, nudging his head in the direction of the bathroom. Both brothers rolled their eyes.

“Our dear Agent has seen me in much more raucous states of undress, I assure you” he sniffed, staring pointedly at the flames. He could almost feel the wrinkle of Steve’s nose. There was another silence which hung between them, heavier this time. “What happened, Loki?” Steve whispered, leaning forward like a teen girl at a sleepover. He pulled the blanket in his lap to his chest. “Between you and-” he gestured with his head again towards the door. “You guys were pretty perfect together seemed like.” Loki bristled, feeling his brothers eyes on him too. He knew it would come to this. “We had an irreconcilable differing of opinion.” “On what?” “On me.”

Loki straightened, rolling his shoulders back and resting an ankle on his knee for good measure. Casual. The scratch of cheap upholstery made his back tingle. “Well that could mean all manner of things, brother. You are insufferable.”

Loki swallowed, blinking several times. Steve reached out, patting his hand gently, but Loki flapped it away. “Apparently I am...what were her words exactly? Oh, yes. Haughty. Condescending. Unwaveringly arrogant.” He looked pointedly between the men. “I mean, can you believe that?!” Thor and Steve’s eyes met, each waiting for the other to speak first.

“Well, yes” they said in sync.

Loki bristled again, raking a hand through his hair. “Not to the point where it subsumes all my admirable qualities, surely?” he said, beginning to pick at the green of his bottoms. “I mean really. Is it truly arrogance if what I say is true? I cannot help being a god.”

Silence was deafening.

Loki looked to the side, seeing Steve’s face contorted in a theatrical twist. One eyebrow was raised, lips stretched over his teeth in a grimacing caricature. “You do go on about it a lot.” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Indeed, brother.” Thor concurred. He nestled back in the recliner with a satisfied sigh. “I shouldn’t have to walk with these groceries...I am a god. I have no need of a parking permit, I am a god...I can only imagine how it is to be your significant other, especially for so long-” “Hey, Thor – did Loki tell you about ‘that time’ on Asgard?” “Why yes Rogers he did. All of them. And anyone else who’d listen. Especially the part which highlights exactly how impressive it is that he is...” “-a god,” they both finished. Loki stared between them, open mouthed. His furious gaze landed on his brother. The betrayal in his voice was palpable. “How dare you,” he growled. “You’re one to talk, spouting off about your powers and flaunting your lineage at every chance you can grasp. The audacit-” Thor raised a waggling finger in the air, pushing his feet against the chair and sitting upright. “Ah-ah-ah, brother. But I am both self-effacing and charming, isn’t that right Rogers?” he beamed. “He is quite charming.” Steve agreed, reluctantly. “You on the other hand...it comes across as more..” The three of them looked between each other. Loki’s face fell.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

Of all the times your gentle hands had cupped his, your caring words of encouragement that he think more of what he was saying; he had not listened. Not really. The armour of arrogance was a comfort to him. It was secure, unchanging. Unlike everything else. And in truth, he’d thought you’d liked it. Despite your occasional protestations.

Until the end, that was.

A creak from the hallway signalled your imminent emergence from the bathroom.

In all the commotion, none of them had heard the boiler cease its ragged howl. A few seconds later, your head poked around the door. Wetted hair fell around your shoulders, sticking to the curve of your neck. Loki looked up through his lashes, stomach fluttering as your palm slid innocently down the wooden frame. Moisture still clung to your skin.

Loki hoped you weren’t cold. “I’m going to bed, I’ll see you in the morning” you said, looking to Thor and Steve before your eyes met his. He looked away quickly. “Goodnight,” the three of them chimed, some more enthusiastically than others. You stepped out in full view for a moment, adjusting the towel around your body. “Did you use the groove technique?” you smiled, nodding to the fire. “My brother made the same joke already,” Thor said, reclining on the deceptively comfortable chair again with a flourish. “But alas, no.” Loki’s heart skipped as you focused on him. Something swam in your eyes as you twisted the towel by your armpit. Something that wasn’t irritation, or coldness. He saw your covert gaze drop to his neck, lower to his chest, then to the flat of his stomach. He shifted, curling his long legs up on the sofa.

“Join us,” he said, gesturing to an empty armchair in the corner. You shook your head, offering a weak smile. “I’m exhausted, clearly you guys have more stamina than I do.” Loki felt the mighty need to agree rise in his throat. To articulate the validity of your statement, and its infinite reasoning and commend your observations. For the first time, he was aware of its overwhelming crawl upwards like dragon-fire, sanctimonious empty words writhing like live insects in his mouth – desperate to be spat. He forced them down, under the watchful eye of Steve. The words sat in his stomach like a stone.

“Goodnight, Agent.” Loki murmured with a respectful nod. You returned it silently, before closing the door.

A sliver of open curtain cast moonlight on the wall.

Loki stared at it.

Then he stared at it some more. How long had he lain here? He turned, grasping at the vintage midgardian alarm clock on the side. He squinted. Nine-forty. Loki groaned, rolling back against the lumpy mattress. Tonight, unlike the last, sleep evaded him. Although he had only been in the maze of his thoughts for fifteen minutes, it felt like eternity. Why could he not read you? It was always so easy before, he pondered. His eyes tracked along a crack in the ceiling. Before she raised the drawbridge.

He sighed.

If what Rogers and his brother said was in truth, then it meant the unthinkable. That she was right to do what she did. Was he truly so conceited that he had let love which evaded him so long slip through his grasp for the sake of his pride? For what? To feel important for a fleeting moment? A thousand fleeting moments would be more accurate. A chill ran down his spine. Does she think that, in truth, I never cared for her at all? He closed his eyes, attempting to diminish the intrusive thought. In an act of mercy, his mind conjured the memory of you wrapped in only the towel downstairs. Hair wet, droplets kissing down your neck as you played with the side of the cotton.

‘Come here, Agent’ he would growl, spreading his thighs wider on the bed’s edge. He knew how much you loved the thickness of his thighs. At least, you used to. The version of you still in love with him would sashay across the room, bare feet leaving wet imprints on the floorboards. A coy smile playing on your pouted lips.

Would you wait until you had straddled him to release the towel, or in the moment before you did so? Loki pondered this for a moment, before deciding to indulge in both.

He could feel his cock hardening uncomfortably against the crotch of his pyjama pants, the spill of your perfect breasts into his imaginary hands making it throb. ‘Darling,’ he would sigh as he buried his face in your cleavage. His thumbs would graze your delicate nipples, guiding them to his open lips as you ground against his lap. A hand would nudge his tip inside your perfect heat before you edged down...down to meet the root. And then, you would kiss. You always wanted to kiss the first time you were fully joined. Entwined. Twin-gasps would fill the air, giving way to moans of quiet pleasure as Rogers and his brother slept next door.

Or tried to, at least. Loki spat in his hand, before slipping it beneath the waistband of his pyjamas. Cold fingers wrapped around the mass of untended lust that waited. He pumped once, pulling the foreskin back gently and letting his fist nestle against the neat of his pubic hair.

A ragged exhale escaped him.

How long has it been, he wondered briefly, before tightening his grip.

He extended his thumb, pressing harshly against velvet flesh as he swept upwards. The god’s eyes rolled back in the darkness, back arching up into his pleasure. Low pants began to pepper the air around him, each swipe of his hand more frantic than the last.

Too loud.

He bit his lip, eyes screwed shut while visions of you flashed through his mind. He settled on a memory of you in his bedroom in the tower. His hands were tied behind his back as he sat on the edge of the bed you shared, your fingers curling around his abs as they clenched beneath the touch. Your lips fastening around his trembling cock as you made him yours in each stroke of your tongue. Each slurping kiss that lingered as you sucked, his head falling back as he lost himself in you. Always, he thought between staggered breaths. Completely hers.

Loki’s fingers dug into the mattress, the rough methodical slap of his fist against flesh a din to his ears. But gods, it felt so good. He needed this. Needed to allow himself a stolen moment of pleasure where you loved him still.

Climax began to bubble in his deepest centre, swirling behind his eyelids. Loki’s thumb circled the tip with every fuck of his palm, squeezing tighter while droplets of precum made the pyjama pants damp. His teeth were gritted to the ceiling, bared in a grimace. His chin pointed upwards, the pillow folding in on his cheekbones with the force of the brace. His breaths were short. ‘Mmmm’ The god’s eyes shot open.

He paused, wincing as his fist froze tightly halfway down his cock. His ears pricked, concentrating. ‘Mmmm-uh’

Loki’s head fell to the side, facing the wall. The wall on the other side of which, you lay.

He closed his eyes, summoning every magnification of his senses that he could. Your voice. No more than a whisper, seeping through the stone.

‘Loki, yes…’

He’d know those sweet sighs of pleasure anywhere.

A breath he’d been holding rattled free, timed with a tentative tug of his cock.

He could hear everything now. The rustle of bedsheets tangled around your knees, the beat of your heart quickening as you reached your peak with him in your head. The press of your fingers on that spot just about your plump, beautiful clit. Were you imagining the flat of his tongue caressing against your desire? Loki thought you were. Orgasm began to rise alongside some unplaced feeling, his legs tensing; toes curling into the mattress.

She wants me.

In a split-second decision, he whipped the bedsheets from his body and jumped cat-like to the floor. Within two strides, he had opened the door with a creak and slipped into the cramped hallway. Your door loomed before him, adjacent to his own.

What are you doing, he thought; suddenly horrified as the chill set in. He looked down, cock hard and leaking against his pyjama pants.

He began to step back, emitting the loudest groan of a floorboard he had ever heard in his life. Loki grimaced, hushing the accursed building with clawed fingers. But it was too late. He heard the succession of your bare feet meeting the floor, and in a matter of seconds; your door opened. Just a crack. “Loki?” you warily whispered into the darkness. He cleared his throat softly, casting a glance over his shoulder before daring to meet your questioning eyes. That dragon-fire bubbled in his stomach like acid, quippy lines and heavy-handed flirtations that begged to be freed.

How had he never noticed before how much effort it took, not to let them out? I thought you might need a hand, You called for me, so I’ve come to... make you c- I know you still desire me, which is to be expected, Admit it, no one can pleasure you like me, For old times sake- Because, Loki realised, he had never tried. You opened the crack of the door wider, looking to either side of the landing suspiciously. His eyes ran from your bare feet to the hem of a nightdress falling around your thighs. He recognised that nightdress. Your favourite. It had dead leaves on it, which he never understood. But maybe now, in this place, he finally did.

You only wore it when the nights grew colder. And only when he was not there to hold you for warmth.

Which these days, he thought with a pang, is always.

All too late, the god realised he had become distracted from his newfound restraint. It had wound like ivy around his thoughts, vines twisting and flourishing with alarming speed. But there was nothing to be done about it now. “I thought you might want some... company,” he growled suggestively.

His cock pressed ferociously against his hip, covered from view by one thick forearm.

Your eyebrows rose beneath a deadpan stare. “You can’t be serious.” Like an out of body experience, Loki raised the forearm covering his crotch to rest high on the door-frame. The unmistakable scent of your arousal seeped into his nostrils, an interrupted climax lingering in the air.

Moonlight from the cracks in your curtains licked across his chest, his obliques – casting deep shadows in his cheekbones, Loki would wager.

Hair fell around his jaw, tingling the flushed skin. He could feel his manhood pressing eagerly against the cotton, as desperate for your touch as it always had been. The thrill that in mere seconds, he would feel you against him again where you belonged. The heat of your skin flush to his own, the muffled mewls from your lips as you kissed, the insatiable wandering of your hands as you devoured him like an addict’s first fix. You would be so happy. This time, Loki would make sure of that.

He looked down deep into your eyes, smouldering with all his might. “Deadly, darling.” he purred.

Your disbelieving stare fell to his crotch. It widened. “Oh my god, Loki.” you hissed. “Yes...?” he crooned presumptively in response. The rakish smile spreading barely had time to reach his eyes before the door slammed in his face, almost taking Loki’s fingers with it to the other side.

>>Chapter Three: A Long Way Down Tags (contd in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @holdmytesseract @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover @iamlokisgloriouspurpose

[cloveroctobers]

NOTHING SWEETER — BODE LEONE: [Spring Prompts]

A/N: This will probably flop since it’s basically a ghost town in this tag but here I am! Plus it was also requested for me to write for Bode (again) lol which I don’t have a problem with, we love that guy over here. They’re wrong for going on break after giving us what they gave us! I also just want to say that I really miss Max’s curls but here it goes!!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE + I’m using: 18.  “Damn, I hate pollen.” + 8.  “IT’S A DEER!” “Yeah, and?” “I CAN SEE IT!”

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡ ♡

Eve was lucky you loved her.

Being up this early on your first day back in Edgewater to give her a ride to Three Rock (her car was in the shop) was a lot to ask! Not really! but what kind of friend would you be if you didn’t complain a good portion about it on the ride up to camp?

“If I get you an iced coffee, would you love me again?” Eve pinched the space in between her brows, elbow resting against the car door.

You hummed while using one hand to tap on your chin, “Add in a Mozzarella, Pesto, and tomato bagel then we’ll talk.”

Eve twisted her lips upwards, “…that’s a thing? Whatever happened to a simple cream cheese with eggs and avocado?”

“You’re lucky I’m not asking for a soft boiled egg stuffed with caviar.” You respond as you reduce your speed once you cross the bridge, spying the familiar deli spot up ahead.

Eve scoffed as she side eyed you, “oh yeah, Switzerland done made you bougie.”

Which earned a laugh from you as you pulled the Toyota 4Runner into the small parking lot. If you weren’t a bundle of nerves you would have got out of the car with Eve to see what changed about the deli you spent many afternoons in with your old friends. However you let your mind wander a bit as you stared out into edgewater’s view.

You were home…except your childhood home was just a memory now that your divorced parents no longer resided in Edgewater. So you crashed at Eve’s although you were completely fine staying in a hotel since Jake talked you out of an air bnb after watching some movie called, “Barbarian,” and you were tired of hearing the statistics and other real life horror stories he pulled out of his ass. Eve was your number one best friend and she was more than willing to open up her place for a friend like you.

As you took up a interest in archery and later turned into a professional Archer, you were inspired to see what the world had in store so the sooner you got out of Edgewater, the better it was for you. Some just didn’t get it (your parents mainly, with your mother being an orthopedic surgeon and your father a fire chief before his MS took over) and expected you to start your own roots here. It was kind of a thing here in this small town, that you were to begin again and build your own legacy. However you were in the tiny group of odd’s that wanted more than the expectations hanging over your head.

Which is why you were proud to say that you’ve been participating in the Olympics every few years because of your passion for archery. Of course you had people down your neck all throughout your career but you still stood as tall as you could.

Now you were back home in the place that was full of doubts but the tightness in your chest wasn’t as noticeable the closer you got to camp.

“Thanks for dropping me off, I appreciate it.” Eve starts as she spots a few inmates hanging around on the yard already, “If you stick around for a minute I’ll even do you a solid and send Bode your way. Since I know it’ll be difficult otherwise.”

Taking a deep inhale you say, “I still can’t believe he’s here.”

“Yeah well…if he stays on the right track this time he’ll be out even sooner.” Eve tells, “He’s still a big pain in all of our asses but I think it would do him some good to see you…you did come all this way.”

It’s been years since you last saw each other but you came back for Riley’s funeral and you reached out to Bode when he moved away to a few towns over and changed his last name. You tried to be there even being ocean’s apart but when Bode felt low, it always felt like he wanted to take the world on his shoulder’s and find a way to make it spin again. Yet that landed him in prison and Eve had no problem filling you in on everything in between.

Would he even want to see you? It’s not like your relationship turned sour or anything…it’s just been awhile being in contact with each other. You weren’t nearly this anxious seeing Eve and doubted you would be when you had lunch with Jake and Cara—which was still weird to you—But being near Bode was different from everybody else and you knew that.

“I did…didn’t I?” You loll your head to face Eve, who studies it for a moment before dipping her head.

She tapped her hand against the outside of the door, whispering into the spring air, “it’ll be fine. He’s in a much better headspace and you’re still family no matter where you disappear off to, you got that?”

A watery smile goes Eve’s way before she leaves you to collect yourself. You’re pulling your mirror down from the sun visor, patting underneath your eyes and beginning to second guess yourself. You were here for two weeks and there was no way that you planned on not seeing Bode. You ran into his parents just last night at the bar, craving some wings before heading to Eve’s, just to be received with warm arms and classic banter from the Leone’s.

They were the parents you could talk to more than your own. If you weren’t crashing at Eve’s then you would definitely be at the Leone’s but then Bode and Cara happened so that’s when some of the distance was created. They didn’t last, like most teenage relationships but out of respect you felt like it was the right thing to do.

It felt right being back, even if it was only temporary.

Maybe that’s just how you had to view Bode’s situation. He wasn’t a temporary kind of friend although you couldn’t socialize as much but you tried to be hopeful. Even climbed out of the car pacing back and forth, not paying much attention to anyone around until you spotted the green dust decorating the navy car.

Scowling in disgust, you swiped the arm of your jacket around the hood of your car before cringing at the greenery you wiped on your sweatpants afterwards.

“Damn, I hate pollen.” A voice comes from behind, which makes you slowly stand up straight and glance over your shoulder.

There he was.

Bode Leone, standing in the flesh, hands deep in his jacket pockets, and a small smile on his lips.

You fully turn to face him and tilt your head to the side, “Didn’t I tell you once before that Orange isn’t your color?”

Bode lifts his shoulders with humor in his blue-green eyes as he motions towards the spot on you, “yeah, well maybe green isn’t yours either.”

You scoff as you motion to your outfit, “what? You don’t think I’m pulling it off?”

The blond chuckles as he takes a step towards you, “As long as you don’t start itching then sure, whatever you say.”

“Oh,” you scratch at the back of your hand and shoot a glare at the man who’s got crinkles by his eyes now, “why did you have to go and say that Bode! Now I’m doing it!”

“Sorry! It’s just that I sorta remembered that you were sensitive to almost everything including air.” He says to you, teasing somewhat, now standing face to face with you.

Rolling your eyes you couldn’t help but to smile at that. You didn’t know what it was growing up in high school, you were highly allergic to almost everything which landed you in the nurses office a lot but it seemed to relax as you reached your twenties and moved away. You always joked that maybe it was Edgewater that was making you sick. Yet the longer you stood in this town and interacted with not only Eve but Bode, you knew that wasn’t completely true.

“It’s good to see you, Bo.” You lightly shove his shoulder back while he nods in agreement, “can I give you a hug?”

Bode blinks the furrow of his brows away as if you were being ridiculous, “of course you can.”

And you’re cradling the back of his head while his fingers are at your spine, swaying from side to side in a firm but gentle squeeze. Then he’s burying his nose into your shoulder and the feel of the embrace tells you that this was meant to be.

When your eyes open, you realize that you could live just fine in Bode’s arms. You remember your final kiss goodbye in Drayscott, one month before you left the country and one month before Bode attempted to pull off a robbery—it was the sweetest thing—the kiss obviously! because it should have been happened. It didn’t come out of nowhere, it was full of intention, full of wonder and love but you were aware that it wasn’t the right time to be something more.

Maybe some day it could be.

Little did you know, Bode kept that memory not far away. He was kicking himself for the what if’s but when he manages to pull himself out of the blue, he thinks about the best possibility being you.

The both of you could be good together, could see the world together and he wasn’t sure how it all looked but he was willing to imagine.

A gasp makes Bode pull away, alarmed.

“IT’S A DEER!” You point, over Bode’s shoulder.

He glances over his shoulder to in fact see the said brown animal, peering at the two of you, “Yeah, and?”

“I CAN SEE IT!” You attempt to lower your voice but the excitement got the best of you as you almost bounce on your toes.

Bode’s still lightly has a hand resting on your waist now, as they watch the beautiful creature sniff at the grass and carried on deeper and away into the woods.

“Are you telling me they don’t have deer out in Switzerland?” There’s amusement in Bode’s voice as he peeks back at you.

“I’ve been in the city mainly but it’s been awhile since I’ve really been one with nature, you know? Which reminds me, I’ll have to make time to go off roading with this baby one of these days. Or hiking.” You jam a thumb back at the car.

Bode nods, “you’ll be careful won’t you? Don’t get so easily impressed with animals, not all of them will have the best intentions.”

You were an animal lover back in the day, so much to the point you wouldn’t dissect a frog sophomore year, which landed you in the principal’s office.

“What?” You blow a raspberry, “I’m like freaking Princess Aurora. Animals love me.”

Bode squints his eyes, “…didn’t you get bit by a goat when we were like what? Fourteen?”

“You’re really killing my vibe man and I don’t like that.” You yank on the end of Bode’s hair who laughs again.

He raises his hands in surrender and grips your wrist from his head, “alright, alright. My bad but if it makes you feel better, I still have that scar after that horse kicked the shit out of me when we had too many drinks partying at Tamsin Kadoka’s farm.”

“Really?”

Bode nods, “yeah, right on my lower back and it’s shaped like Utah.”

You meet each other’s gaze before bursting out laughing in unison at yet another memory. He’s gripping your shoulder again while he’s got your attention, “just promise me when you’re out there in those woods that you’re careful. I’d hate it if something happened to you.”

“Well the feeling is mutual, Bo.” You state, “you just had to go on and choose firefighting huh?”

Bode shrugs, “Must be in the Leone blood.”

“Yeah, must be.” You murmur, staring at him like there’s stars getting ready to rise in your eyes and Bode can’t help but to lean forward to place a lingering kiss on your forehead.

His facial hair pricks you but you don’t mind.

“Leone!” A guard calls out, which means your time is up for now.

You hold his hand, interlocking your fingers, which he squeezes with a smile to match, eyes wandering all over your features, almost as if to tell himself that you are in fact really here.

“Until next time?” He questions.

You smile, “See you soon, Bode.”

And he grins at you, those crinkles by his eyes returning before he slips his hand from yours.

This was brief but sweet and you’re mentally kicking yourself for thinking that this could go wrong.

You’re watching Bode walk away from you and he can’t help but to jog backwards to get another look at you. Almost as if you would disappear again and you would never see him again. When he turns back around, heading to the guard on shift who announces the inmates need to get ready for line ups inside at the bunks, he meets up with Cole on his way.

“Who was that?” Cole nudges his chin in your direction.

You’re seated in the driver’s seat, window down, leaning on your arm as you watch the men in Orange make their way back inside.

Catching Bode’s eye, you wave before rolling your window almost all the way up and pull away from the camp site.

“Someone i would like to give the world and more to once im out of here.”

Cole is smirking but appreciates the honesty as he claps Bode on his shoulder, already knowing what that look is for. “Then let’s make it happen, Leone! Nothing sweeter than having something on the outside to fight for, you know?”

“I agree.” Bode pulls his gaze from your retreating car, finding himself standing up straighter as they awaited for Eve to start their day.

When Eve’s brown eyes set on Bode’s, he just barely tips in his head in thanks, which the woman echo’s as she carries on along the line.

Bode already can’t wait for the next day he can get reconnected with you in person again so, he bites his smile away.

⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡♡✿ ⋆˙⟡ ♡

Continue with my spring anthology prompts here.

[marlynnofmany]

Reaching

Being the tall person at the grocery store is nothing compared to being the tall species on an alien planet. Everybody here was hip-height at best, and my ability to grab things that would normally require a stepstool was very appreciated. I wasn’t the only Big Alien come to visit, since the courier ship was about evenly split size-wise, but I was definitely enjoying it.

Especially since the cargo we were meant to pick up was stored (for some reason) on high shelves.

“That’s everything from this one,” I said to Mur as I grabbed a final dusty crate from head level, bending down to place it on the hoversled. “What’s next?” I straightened up and stretched my back, ready for more.

Mur consulted a list on the communicator he held with one tentacle. “That was the ‘blue alcove.’ Which one’s the ‘round alcove’?”

I rotated in place, looking for round things in the alien barn full of mismatched architecture and empty stalls. The owner had decided to retire and sell their old junk, which meant getting us to deliver it to somebody else’s farm. They were paying extra for us to load it onto the ship ourselves. This farmer was either elderly and infirm, or out of bothers to give. Not that it mattered much either way.

“I see it!” Paint said, pointing a scaly hand upward.

I followed her finger to see a curved opening halfway up the wall. “That’s more of an oval, but everything else is square, so I guess that’s it,” I agreed.

Paint tugged the hoversled over, while Mur sat on top of the boxes with his list. Then they both waited for me, because they certainly couldn’t reach any of it.

“We’re meant to take everything up here, right?” I asked, leaning in to grab a bundle of what looked like hammers strapped together. They were heavy, but not to the point where I was at risk of dropping them on anybody.

“Looks like yes,” Mur said. “Can you get all of it?”

“Mayyybe not,” I admitted. “This alcove is pretty deep.”

“Oh, there’s a ladder!” Paint said, darting away. I was busy straining to reach a roll of wire, so I didn’t see what caused the loud snap. But I did hear her make a disappointed sound.

Mur laughed. “There was a ladder. See any others over there?”

I pulled the wire down and set it on the cart, only then getting a view of Paint guiltily dropping the decrepit piece of wood that had recently been half a ladder. There were two or three pegs sticking out of it, though the rest had stayed with the other half, which appeared to be bolted to the wall.

I winced. “Are we going to have to pay damages for that?”

“Eh, maybe,” Mur said. “Pretty sure the old farmer mentioned a number of things that were destined for the fuel pile anyway. We can let Captain Sunlight ask.”

Paint called over, “I don’t see any others.”

A look back at the near wall showed bolts that might have held a different ladder in place once. “New question,” I said. “What do you see that looks strong enough for me to step on? Because I can just climb up there with a little boost.”

Mur grumbled something about species that were always looking for things to climb. Since this was entirely accurate, I ignored him. Then he said, “Well, I’d suggest stepping on the sled, but it’s full of goods, and the brakes aren’t what they should be.”

“Yeah, no use risking that,” I agreed. “And I don’t need much. I could probably get up there with a running start, but I’d rather not bruise anything today.”

Paint trotted back over. “What about those?” she suggested, pointing out a stack of metal tubs that were probably meant for animal food.

We took a look. Some were rusty and unreliable, and they were all heavy — we had to tip the stack on its side to sort through them. But we found one at the bottom that felt sturdy enough. I probably wouldn’t fall right through it. Probably.

It sure was heavy, though. I dragged it over, leaving a trail through the dirt and alien straw, hoping I wasn’t about to ruin another thing that we’d have to pay for.

I’d just gotten it into position when a new voice asked, “What is taking so long?”

Trrili stood in the doorway, a looming black-and-red menace with mandibles and pincher arms. She looked impatient. She also looked like a giant praying mantis, but she always looked like that.

While Paint explained that the items were hard to reach and the ladder was pursuing an exciting new career as kindling, Trrili stalked over on her many legs. Ignoring me completely, she reared back and easily reached into the back of the alcove. “All of these?” she asked.

“Ah, yup,” I said, stepping to the side.

She pulled back to land with her pincher arms holding a large curved thing that had loops dangling from the sides. “What even is this?” she asked as she dumped it onto the sled.

“Looks like a saddle,” I told her.

She was already back up there, rummaging around with only her hind feet on the ground. “What for?”

I said, “Riding animals, I imagine,” then went to stand uselessly with Paint. We watched as our larger coworker loaded up the rest of the items.

“Why would anyone want to ride an animal?” Trrili asked, placing a segment of pipe between the boxes.

“Not everyone has hovertech,” I said. “And it’s nice when your transportation can watch out for hazards. And appreciate neck scritches.”

Trrili declared the whole idea absurd and unnecessary, fit only for species that got too familiar with their prey. None of this was a surprise to me. I’d heard her opinions on pets before.

But Paint was curious about what it was like to be carried around by a large living thing. Was it frightening? What if the animal went the wrong way? What was the importance of “neck scritches?”

I set about explaining horses to her. I might not be able to reach as far as Trrili, but this was definitely something I could do.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

Human radiator

Fandom: Elena of Avalor

Characters: Gabriel Nuñez, Naomi Turner, Elena Castillo Flores, Mateo de Alva

Relationships: all four of them being best friends

Prompt: @flufftober - day 17 Only One Bed (kinda)

Word count: 427

Other: Fluff, Oneshot, Cuddling, Implied camping trip or something, platonic bed sharing, post canon, no context, Gabe's POV mostly because is anybody really surprised at this point

"Alright, so it looks..." Gabe brushed off his hands and paused.

"... actually not bad," Elena supplemented him with the right words.

"Yeah." He nodded, assessing their makeshift shelter with a judgmental gaze.

"So we're finally done? Oh thank goodness." Naomi dramatically threw away a stick and not wasting a minute, crawled under the canopy of branches and vines.

Mateo didn't seem completely convinced of the stability of the old stone wall their lean-to was based on, but an impatient "Well! Aren't you coming?!" from Naomi seemed to be enough to lure him inside.

Gabe looked over to Elena.

"I can take the first watch."

"No way!" Her answer synchronised with Naomi's cry.

"Nuh uh mister "not taking a coat to Maarsvik" you're staying in here with the rest of us!"

Elena nodded sagely and ushered him to go before her.

"Don't worry, we're alone here anyway. And I doubt there's anything out here to get us except for maybe mosquitoes?"

"And I call dibs on using you as a pillow," Naomi added as he squeezed into the tight space they got to call home for the night.

"Alright, alright," Gabe chuckled, making himself comfortable on the dry leaves and moss mattress. They all huddled together into one big bundle of arms and legs and chests, seeking warmth and any semblance of comfort on the five square metres that they got to share. Finally a shared relaxed sigh filled their little abode. That's when Gabe decided to add:

"By the way, I snore."

The silence lost its bliss. It has gained however, a whole lot of weight from the silent threats cast at him by everyone's glares. Gabe couldn't see them of course, but he could feel it well in his heart that they were there.

"Not if I smother you in your sleep you won't," Mateo mumbled half asleep.

Gabe chuckled and the atmosphere went back to being cozy.

"Very funny, Mateo." He rolled his eyes even if he knew they wouldn't see it. "Cause it was a joke, right? Guys...?"

The only answer he got was even and quiet breathing all around him and suddenly he started wondering if maybe standing a watch alone outside wouldn't be that bad.

But then he thought about the dark and cold and wind waiting behind the thin walls of their little hut and felt the warmth and comfort coming from his friends even strongly. His eyelids began to drop and he decided that maybe getting murdered in his sleep is something... he can worry about... in the morning...

Author's note:

You do not realise how badly I wanted to call Gabe a human radiator in the fic itself but. I imagine radiators are not a thing in the EverRealm T_T However I firmly believe that Gabe would make for a fantastic pillow and my goal was to not make it creepy or horny by accident in the fic. It's just an objective and platonic truth ✊

[prismatica-the-strange]

The End of the World as We Know It | Swing and Turn

Warnings: 18+, none

Pure Daryl and Loveday fluff.

Jubilee by Morningsiders | Banner By @saradika-graphics | Dividers by @firefly-graphics

"Found'ya somethin'," Daryl says, gently tossing her the bundle of fabric.

Loveday flashes him a smile before shaking out the thick wool coat in her hands, not realizing what it is for a moment, "Thanks... Uh... Why?"

He looks at her, confused, "Gettin' colder'n y'don' got'a coat."

"Oh," She's noticed him and the rest of Alexandria start layering up more and more each day despite it not dropping bellow fifty out.

"Know it ain't yer style, but I don' wan'a see you freeze on me."

She doesn't have the heart to tell him she'll probably never wear it as long as they live here, so she stands to kiss his cheek, "Thanks, baby."

Winter sets in quickly and the temperature continues to drop, but never going so low as to warrant wearing such a heavy coat.

He leaves it lying out for her on chillier mornings but always finds her later wearing a hoodie or flannel shirt instead.

One night, while she's sat in the window of their house, knitting and waiting for him to come back from a run, it starts to snow.

It's been years since she's seen snow and her heart swells. It isn't until it starts to stick to the grass does she finally decide to go out and enjoy it.

She's so caught up in the idea of being out in it she doesn't even put shoes on. The ground is cold under her feet, but she doesn't care, her big cardigan hanging loosely around her elbows.

She holds her arms out, eyes closing with a deep sigh as she slowly turns, big, wet snowflakes catching in her hair.

She lets herself pretend for a moment that she's twelve years old again and home. That it's late November and she's standing out in her own yard, looking over the valley just before it starts to storm.

The cold air is like an old friend she hasn't seen in ages but still knows her more intimately than any lover. It fills her lungs and runs through her veins. It's a part of her and it brings a strange peace to her heart.

She spends hours standing out in the flurry, smiling up at that clouded sky and earning strange looks from the neighbors.

Daryl and Rick drop off what little haul they have and start trudging back to the houses, their clothes covered in a mix of mud, sweat, melted snow, and walker blood.

They're cold and Daryl wants nothing more than to warm up in a hot shower.

"What the Hell is she doin'? Rick asks when they turn onto their street.

They both stop and watch Loveday spin and giggle in the falling snow.

"Isn't she cold?"

Daryl hums, wondering the same thing, "Girl's crazy. Pro'ly ain't even wearin' shoes."

"Looks like we've been spotted," Risk says when she stops.

"You guys look like a couple'a creepers standin' in the dark over there!" She calls and they start walking over to her.

"What're you doin' out here?" Rick asks and her smile widens.

"It's snowing."

"Yeah, and y'ain't wearin' no coat," Daryl grumbles. He grabs the lapels of her cardigan and roughly tugs it up to where it should be, pulling it closed in the front, "The hell're y'thinkin'?"

"Daryl, 'm fine," She assures him. She takes her hands in his, eyes widening at the feel of his fingers, "You're freezing!"

She rubs her hands on his fingers, bringing them up to her lips to blow on them and Rick snorts.

"Bet you're just as bad," She teases, snatching one of his hands, "Yeah thought so. You should both get inside 'fore you catch your death."

"How long you been out here?" Daryl asks.

"I dunno, awhile?" She shrugs and one of her sleeves falls again, "But I was bred fr' this weather, unlike you southern boys. How many layers you wearin' 'tween the two a'ya?"

"Not enough, apparently," Rick laughs, "I'm goin' in where it's warm."

"You too," She scolds Daryl playfully, pushing him to follow their friend, "Don't want'ya gettin' sick on me."

He huffs but does as she says, completely missing the mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Just as he's walking up to the porch steps she bends down, gathering a fistful of snow off the grass and shoves it down the collar of his shirt.

"Wh- Hey!" His shoulders tense at the sudden cold and he scrambles to try and get it out , eyes falling on her when she laughs, "Y'think that's funny?"

He tosses his crossbow aside and lunges at her, boot slipping in the grass when she bolts, "Com'ere!"

"Daryl- Shit!" She catches herself when she slips, screeching when his fingers graze her arm, "I'm sorry!"

"No! I'm sorry- I'm sorry!" She squeals in laughter when he catches her and lifts her off her feet against his chest.

"Y'think yer real funny, don't'ya?" He growls.

"Maybe?" She giggles, biting her lip.

"Yeah, well yer comin' with me, girlie."

She sets both mugs on the bedside table and flops on her stomach on their bed.

She flips to her page in her book and reads while she waits for him, feet kicking lazily in the air behind her by the pillows.

Daryl comes in a few minutes later, hair still damp and loose sweats hanging off his hips.

"Good shower?" She asks and he hums collapsing onto his back beside her, resting his arm behind his head.

"Be better if you were in there with me," He teases, his hand coming to rest on her ass.

They lay like that for a while, just enjoying each other's presence before she speaks up.

"Made you a hot drink, should still be kinda warm."

"Oh yeah?" He turns to the bedside table when she points and grabs one of the mugs, tugging on her sweater to get her to sit up next to him against the headboard.

She pushes herself up to do so, bringing her book with her, and tucks herself against his chest.

"Shit," He mumbles when he takes a sip, "That's fuckin' good."

"Better be," She chuckles, "Got into my period stash to make it."

"Didn' have'ta..."

"I know," She reaches for her own mug, cradling it in her hands, "Jus' thought you'd like somethin' sweet."

"Don' need sweets," He says with a small nod, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "Already got you."

"Shut up!" She groans, hiding her smile against his neck, making him laugh.

[skzpixie]

Taglist: @mynameisnotlaura, @palindrome969

Scene 1: Maniac world tour 2022 V live with her brother 

Kai is sitting on a couch in an unfamiliar setting, pictures of her family barely seen with her old as hell phone.  Kai: Hello!  She giggled, waving her hand around excitedly as a greeting. She looks down at the tablet with the live pulled up, watching comments.   Kai: I’m in my childhood home, that's why it’s so weird looking.  Someone off screen: It isn’t weird looking!! You’re weird looking!  Kai glared at the person off screen  Kai: This is why I’m the favorite child, Bo. I don’t interrupt you when you're working!  Bo: Because I refuse to let you near it, roach  Kai: I hope you die in the worst possible way, Fei Bo  Bo: If it means getting away from your ugly face, I'll gladly take that chance  She takes off her slipper and chucks it at Bo off screen. You could tell by the way he immediately yelled after.  Kai: MOM!! He hit me!!  An older woman off screen: Bo, don’t hit your sister!  Bo: I didn’t DO anything!! She hit ME!!  Kai giggles at the chaos unfolding in the kitchen, her mom scolding her older brother who was glaring at Kai. 

Scene 2: Instagram livestream titled “Changbin simp club” 

Kai is laying in her bed, watching the stream go by, bundled in blankets  Kai: Oh my god! This reminds me of the bubble conversation I saw—Yes, I use bubble, but I’m forbidden to post on there. Something about “Maintaining idol image”, which is BS but anyway.  She sits up, brushing the hair out of her face  Kai: OKAY! So, I keep seeing posts about Changbin going around, and my lizard brain is going crazy at some of the pictures. BIN!! Get in here!!  The door opened, letting in a beam of soft light against her purple lights. Changbin unceremoniously plops himself on her lap, facing her stomach. Kai runs her hands through his curly hair.  Kai: So, you guys know I have a thing for muscles, right. I mean, look at this man  She picks up his arm, squishing the muscle before biting his Bicep.  Changbin: Hey!  He whined, before blowing air onto her stomach, causing her to laugh hard.  Kai: Okay, you can go now  She pressed a kiss to the area she bit, and he walked out, closing the door  Kai: Now, his boobs- 

Scene 3: Kai and her affinity for man boobs 

Kai: Hanji!!  She runs up to him in his diesel shirt w/ the boob window. They were filming a skz talker, and she didn’t realize before it was too late  Han: What- HUH??!  She cups his chest and sticks her head inside it, effectively motorboating him. She walks away, satisfied and Han just stood there in shock 

It was during SKZ talker 48, when she was getting her makeup done, Seungmin walked over and sat on her lap, shocking the artist. She rolled her eyes and groped his chest, getting a squeak from the man. Said man ran away after calling her a pervert. 

During the live show (The one where Hyunjin and Lee Know did the troublemaker challenge), Kai is told to do a dance challenge with Changbin and Chan.  Kai, in English: I'm with the big titty gang  Chan: huH?!?   Chan chases after her and slings her across his shoulder. 

An episode of Chan’s room, Chan was talking about how clingy Kai was  Chan: Oh yeah! (He laughs, all shy now) She is big on the chest area, for some reason? I don’t get it, but-  He gets cut off with Kai running into the room and jumping on Chan in his chair. He does a little scream, Kai shoving her face into his chest while whining  Kai: Don’t give away my secrets, boob man!  She falls off the chair hard and ran out of the room, cackling as he looked after her, perplexed 

Scene 4: Young Pixie being a menace without realizing it 

Kai: Minho hyung!!  Kai is in the haunted house with the other members. She is partnered with Lee Know and Han  Lee Know: Kai-ah! It’s improper to call your elders hyung when you are a girl  Kai stares blankly at Lee know.  Kai: Would you rather me call you motherfuc- 

During the English debate, she is put on the team with less English speakers to make it more even.  Kai: (Mocking the Australians when they laugh at their team) PrAwN oN tHe BaRbIe  Felix, right back at her: Oh my god, Stephanie, do you want to go out to the mall today? (Imitating a valley girl accent)  Kai: That’s not even the right accent! Do you want to meet your ancestors? (She holds up a fist, getting hysteric laughs from her members) 

Kai is watching her members greet the audience, and when it was time for her to introduce herself, she froze, forgetting her line completely(She just had to introduce herself)  Kai: Hello, my name is Bang Chan and you’re watching Disney channel (Proceeds to do the Disney Channel logo) 

Kai starting the trend of her members mocking JYP. Their first performance, she is seen in the background imitating JYP’s singing of their debut. 

[jomiddlemarch]

Let’s stop all the clocks

“Erin? Erin Quinn?” 

Erin looked up from the book in her lap. It should have been one for one of her classes, but she’d decided to give herself a break and read the absolute trash Michelle had been going on about in the long phone calls that cut into Erin’s coffee budget. It was a quick read, she’d give it that, but she didn’t actually want anyone who knew her full name to have any idea she’d wasted even a second of her time on it and she tried to tuck it under a fold of the saggy, oversized cardigan she’d put on without thinking twice as she ran out the door. She’d been late, as per usual Mammy would say, and she’d consoled herself with the anonymity of train travel in a major metropolitan center. It wasn’t Derry. She’d not meet anyone who recognized her from Adam, as one of her lecturers had said, an idiom she’d not heard before but suspected Sister Michael would have adored.

She tried to place the man, who spoke with the same faded accent she had herself, though a little more posh. He looked like a generic example of thirty-year-old man, nondescript brown hair with no sign of a receding hairline, a bit of scruff around the jaw, broad shoulders, the usual American uniform of jeans and some themed sweatshirt, a bit ratty around the cuffs, not sharp in the least. She had no idea who he was, but anyone would admit he was entirely forgettable.

She, evidently, was not, as he knew her well enough to identify her with her head down, her hair bundled back with an elastic, wearing the glasses that had rapidly become more than an aesthetic choice for someone scaling the heights of academe. She’d said that once to Mammy, just so her mother would reply Catch yerself on in her most exasperated manner. 

“That’s me,” she said, trying to sound impersonally polite and not guarded.

“You don’t remember me. Not at all,” he said. Grinned. His eyes were blue and he was more handsome than she’d thought. It was the smile and the complete lack of being insulted that she hadn’t a clue who he was that made him appealing. And the blue eyes. His hands were nice too. 

“M’sorry, no,” she said.

“Dee. From Peace Across the Barricades,” he said. “Dee Foster.”

All Erin could remember was Clare screaming her head off, convinced the deaf boy was going to murder her in front of them all. And James clumping about in those pink waterproof trousers, calling himself a lad when he was the least laddish boy who’d ever lived.

“You gave me an Ulster Bank key-chain and some Rolo as a gift?” he said. “I think there was also a pencil.”

It came back to her in a flash. Maybe like the one people said you had before you died.

“Oh my God, Dee! Dee Foster!” She repeated his surname, as if she’d ever known it, as if she’d remembered him quite well in a fond, old-timey fashion, and not as the boy she’d made the most gauche pass at, trying to stick out her unremarkable boobs and cock her head to one side while he’d gawked at her in astonishment.

“You’re looking well, Erin,” he said, still smiling.

“Did you even like Rolo?” Erin heard herself ask, the most absolutely stupid question she could have come up with. Michelle’s eyes would have rolled right out of her head at it, if she could manage to keep them open. A set of twins ten months after her wedding had nearly done her in, even when the boys started taking a nap outside of the enormous double-pram that had become her latest and worst enemy.

“They’re all right, yeah? I prefer a Mars bar, if I have the choice,” he said. 

“Rolo are nice though,” Erin said. “If you like a caramel center, there’s none better.”

She suddenly heard how she was related to Colm. Any minute now, Dee would make an excuse to flee and she would not be able to blame him.

“Yeah. It’s a funny thing, seeing you here,” he remarked. He leaned back more in the plastic seat. It seemed fleeing was not the the top of his list.

“They say it’s a small world,” she replied. “Doesn’t seem that way on the subway, all crammed together, all sorts—”

“No, not like home and that was a small place,” he said.

“Small in some ways, miles apart in others,” she said. There was a long pause, a sort of companionable one where she was able to recall she had indeed put on some blush and a bit of mascara before she’d left the flat. Apartment, they called it here, though her American friends were always terribly charmed when she spoke as she would have at home. They found it quaint, she knew that, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t the most likable person, so she had to play the cards she had been dealt. Being the winsome and quirky Irish lass had gotten her this far…

“I regretted it, after,” he said.

“You regretted Peace Across the Barricades?” Erin said. “It fell far short of what he wanted, Father Peter, but it was well-meant even if he was rather full of himself—”

“I regretted turning you down, when you wanted to make out. When you asked and told me you hadn’t any moves,” he said. “You were wearing plaid pajamas and a choker necklace.”

She blushed as she hadn’t for a solid decade. 

“I shouldn’t have, it’s so embarrassing—”

“I said I regretted it, saying no. Even if you didn’t really know me,” he said. “You were so shy and also, what brass, to make such a proposition.”

“Michelle said you were a ride,” Erin offered.

“Christ, it takes me home to hear that,” he laughed. “Flattered, too, mind you.”

“I should’ve tried to get to know you. Not treated you like a, like a piece of meat. I’m sorry for that,” she said.

“I’m not,” he said.

“No?”

This was the oddest conversation she could recall and she spoke to Orla nearly every week.

“If you’d been more polite then, more considerate, there’d been nothing to talk about now. I wouldn’t have blurted out your name in a train station waiting room because I wanted to talk to you again. To see that smile of yours,” he said. “Make you blush.”

“You’re quite the charmer,” Erin replied. She blushed harder, if that was even a thing.

“You’ve been too long among the Americans, Erin,” he replied. “This is just Londonderry—”

“Derry,” she interrupted.

“Just so,” he said. “I wished I’d gone over to you, when our parents were all there, arguing. I wished I’d gone over and said something, anything, you wanted to answer. Given you the last Rolo, maybe. Taken the chalk from your hand and written something else on that board. Something you’d have remembered me by.”

“You wished it, eh? Past tense?” she said. She could never leave well enough alone and not everyone cared for her endless monologues about the niceties of the English language. She’d have taken the words back if she could.

“Present tense as well,” Dee said. “Where are you off to?”

“Back up to Boston,” she said. She felt the urge to explain what she did there, her studies and such, and clamped her mouth shut. He hadn’t asked and there was a runaway train taken over her tongue, God knows what she’d come out with if she allowed herself the leeway.

“Isn’t that lucky? I’m headed up there myself,” he said. 

“Luckier they don’t assign seats on this train,” she said. Fuck it, this was a chance she had to take. “If you wanted to maybe make that old wish come true—”

She broke off because he’d suddenly stood up. He was tall, had probably grown more after she’d last seen him, and she had to crane her neck to see his face.

“Or not. You probably have other things to do, work or something,” she said, trying to claw back any shred of self-respect. Her pride was long, long gone.

“I was only going to get some snacks for the trip,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the nearest shop with its racks of sweets and bottles of water, juice, all the brightly colored health drinks full of chemicals she could never stomach, though they were said to be good for a hangover.

“Oh, all right then,” she said.

He came back with a plastic bag filled with terrible American chocolate and more satisfying packets of crisps, Cokes, those weird cheese-filled pretzels she couldn’t ever get enough of even though they were inarguably rather disgusting.

“I got some Rolo for old time’s sake,” Dee said, then fished out a little plastic square and held it out to her. It said I love NY but the love was a red heart. “And a keychain. This is my move, Erin Quinn. I hope it’s good enough.”

After they’d moved back to Belfast, she kept her housekeys on it, the letters obscured by the scratches on the plastic, the red heart clear. They gave Rolo as a wedding favor, to the bafflement of their parents, and the knowing looks of Michelle, Clare and James. Orla had only nodded sagely and Dee knew well enough by then not to inquire what she was thinking.

@asteraceae-blue I decided to post this one first because it's a sunny Saturday morning here and that felt like rom-com energy, not angst

[sketchfanda]

A Little Moxxie Love:Now THAT’S Comedy!!

Somedays was just another day in hell, especially in Imp City. Violence on the streets, the odd riot here or there as its denizens of imps, hellhounds, sinners and all the manner of hellborn walked to and fro going about their business. For Moxxie, his business would've been enjoying a rare bit of peace and quiet at the I.M.P office, basking in the downtime before and inbetween jobs or gigs.

But noooo, could't have that now could? Maybe even just some quality time with his lovely wife, Christ on a stick, he'd take some personal time with Loona or one of his, what was the word he was looking for? Oh right, Booty Calls. But insead of any of that, here he was in the living world, sneaking his way around a local park somewhere in Burbank, California looking for a tree house.

No not like some little cabin club house for some neighbourhood tykes, as like an actual, literal treehouse!! A very infamous one at that for you see this treehouse belonged to quite the celebrity. One our favourite little Imp Hitman had the distinct pleasure of being designated to deliver the client's revenge by proxy. As the sharply dressed, put own upon killer for hire mumbled to himself like a certain dastardly mutt, hauling a package securely in his arms, he couldn't help but reflect on how he wound up here. Thinking back to how it all started with that goddamn wolf....

~Imp City, The Pride Ring in Hell as overseen by King Lucifer Morningstar. To be precise, The Office of I.M.P (Immediate Murder Professionals, duh!!),a few moments ago~

??:"And that's why I want that damn-blasted squirrel dead!! DEAD!! YA' HEAR ME!! D,E,A,D DEAD as a doornail!! As dead as she made me!!"* Moxxie along with his ever lovely wife Millie and Blitzo's surly teen hellhound secretary and dispatcher Loona simply sat at their usual meeting room table, varying degrees of deadpan expressions on their faces as their latest potential client seemed to finally finishing his rambling tangent of ranting and raving, nonplussed as he seemed be coughing up a storm. The sinner before them was particular as he looked similar to but sure as fuck wasn't a hellhound like Loona. No this wolf was a sinner of the recently deceased variety and depending how well you knew your toon celebrities, he was a famous one.*

Loona:*shares a glance to her imp co-workers,slash friends with benefits (Don't tell Blitzo,none of his business what a grown hellhound does with her sex and love life.) before she rolls her eyes as she types at her phone.)"Right so yeah no shit Sherlock,we get that. You want this lady offed, kind of what we do here Pops..."

??:”That’s Walter Wolf to you, you punk ass whatever! Kids these days not even a mister, no it’s just pops, you’re about as worse than that squirrel!!”*The hellhound effortlessly ducked the old sinner’s cane as he once again went on another rambling tangent. Loona and the imp couple rolling their eyes as they waited for Yiddish accented codger to refocus. Yes sir, the one and only Walter Wolf, archenemy regular punch bag of Slappy Squirrel. Still holding a grudge and no doubt having wound up here because he finally bit the big one and it really came to bite him in his senile furry behind.*

Moxxie:*deciding it was time at least to try and get this conversation back on track. Particularly before the old lupine sinner caused himself to die...again. Was it possible to die twice in Hell for a sinner?* "Sir yes we get it. As Loona told you, we make it our business to go to the living world and get the likes of you their payback. So details would be nice, especially if there's any specific way you want her to die?"

Walter:*paused mid rant as he adjusted his glasses, squinting at Moxxie.* "Alright you little red skinned horned opossum, that's how you want it, you got it. I want you to take this little bundle right here and plant it somewhere in that uppity Slappy's tree in Burbank. Put it somewhere she's never gonna find it and KABOOM!! Ol' Walter Wolf finally wins one!! In your face ya uppity squirrel bitch!!"

Millie and Loona could only narrow their eyes with deadpan intent at the coughing, wheezing old wolf sinner, given the state of him implied exactly how he'd died in the first place. But hey leave it to old Walter Wolf to never learn a lesson, right? As Moxxie nervously eyed the package he now held in his hand, hearing the ticking of a clock as beneath its simple light brown wrapping paper was a bomb. Realising with little to no doubt he was going to have to go to the living world and actually try to kill Slappy Squirrel of all people!!

Moxxie:"....Oh crumbs...."*Now really given the circumstances and the magnitude of the situation he was about to find himself in? Who could blame him for being only able to respond like that? if Blitzo were here, there was no doubt he'd tell moxxie man up, stop being a little bitch and go kill the old squirrel!! It was their job!!*

~And now back to our regular feature present~

That moment of reflection made Moxxie grit his teeth and spit, if not outright hiss as he reminded himself if and when he saw that old wolf again? He'd slap the absolute shit out of him, like it wasn't bad enough he was going to try kill Slappy Squirrel? One of the few fondest moments in his otherwise abysmal childhood had been watching old Slappy cartoons from the living world with his gone far too soon saint of a mom. But of course sweet precious Millie took a moment to convince him to take up this job alone as 1. Blitzo was too busy with his usual shenanigans and 2. She felt going solo would do his confidence a world of good.

So of course he continued on, mustering up the fortitude to carry out his mission. Besides which he knew he had to make it fast enough since that stupid fucking wolf didn't tell him how long he had exactly left on the timer for this bomb!! Any further hesitation or delays and KABOOM!! but finally the sweet relief as he found himself at what had to be the tree that the squirrel called home.

It was fortunate especially for our fave little imp boi that it was dark out, made for a little stealth. Millie was onto something, doing this solo was doing wonders for his self esteem especially when he didn't have to be overly elaborate like at that summer camp trying to be in charge. Unlike that mission this would be direct and to the point, get in and plant the bomb then hightail out of there like bat out well, hell. Determined more than ever, the imp managed to pry open a window soon as he got close to the house, entering the living room so far so good, still unseen and unheard.

Now all he needed was a good place to plant the explosive package and he could haul his crimson behind out of here. But he had to be still smart enough about this, Slappy was a crafty one in her cartoons and there was no doubt age only increased that. Spying around the room as he stopped his sights upon a large pile in the corner. Bags and mountains of fan-mail and packages, no doubt too much for the squirrel to bother reading and sorting thorugh, it was perfect!!

Pleased with himself as he hummed a merry tune quietly, the red possum got to work as he dove his hands into the pile, burying the packaged TNT deep within fan-mail pile. A silent sigh of relief at a job about to be very well done, that ought to get Walter to shut up. Before he could start on making his exit, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, fishing it out to see a text notification from Loona. It had to be legitimately serious for her to message him during a job, she'd been getting somewhat better with the dispatch details and she sure as hell wasn't sending him a sexy pic now of all times as he opened and read it.

Loona:"The stupid old fart just mentioned he set the bomb for 3 hours when he handed it to ya. If you're good to go then haul ass!!"

Moxxie checked his watch and saw the time, doing the mental math between when Walter handed him the package and the time he left for the living world and tried to find Slappy's house. He had about 2 hours, just enough time to make his escape and hopefully plenty of time before Slappy woke up or got home, assuming she was out late. Just as he was about to put his phone away, he froze like a deer in the headlights as he heard the flip and click of a switch, the living room lights snapped on. Turning to the source of the sound and knew all too well at once, he was screwed as he turned and saw Slappy Squirrel herself standing over him......in nothing but a towel as she grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him against the wall, damn she was a strong old broad.

Moxxie:"Ooh crumbs...."*Now of course Moxxie wasn't just saying that due to being caught in the act but also well, just look at her!! Slappy had more than aged well, hell she was a figurative silver fox!! She had more curves than a freeway and a set of tits and ass that would make Minerva Mink green with envy. Her deadpan blue eyes twinkling no doubt with twinkling with thoughts of how much she was going to make him suffer.*

Slappy:*eyeing the imp as she began to speak up in that grizzled ol' new yorker like accent of hers.* "Ya know, I'll give ya points on the breaking and entering there slick, ain't often I had stalkers sneak into my place and almost not get caught. Would've maybe gotten away with it if I hadn't seen you outside my bedroom window right when I was I was finished hitting the showers. Real ballsy I'll give ya that...."*Moxxie gulped nervously as he awaited whatever toon type mayhem was about to befall him. Slappy was a mistress in the art of comedy-fu after all. It didn't help he was feeling rather turned on seeing her up close like this.*

Moxxie:"Now Ms.Squirrel, or uhm..sorry you've never married, have you? Not to be rude but I explain..."*The Imp paused as he noticed Slappy's eyes narrowed into a seductive gaze. A grin to match forming that sexy furry face of hers, causing him to see she was looking down at his crotch. Oh just terrific, Slappy Squirrel now no doubt thought he was some creepy looney pervert stalker. There was no doubt going to be a mallet in his future for sure when she suddenly spoke up, getting his attention.*

Slappy:"Well now far as sneaky fans go, you're definitely a looker...and really packing it. So I'll give you a pass, hot stuff if you do Lil' Ol' me a favour. It's been way too damn long since I got any and looks to me like you know how to help a lady scratch her itch."*Moxxie had a feeling he knew exactly what Slappy was going on about but there was no way this was happening, right?" Blinking as Slappy unpinned him and let him down, cluthching her towel as she walked with the sort of sway to her backside. Her hips giving off a hypnotic vibe that practically yelled for his attention before the silver fox or rather squirrel turned around. Looing at him with sensual mischief as she made a little come over gesture, finger wagging as she made it clear she wanted him to follow. The imp naturally obliging her of course as they made their way upstairs.*

Moxxie of course was interally freaking out and who could blame him? Okay on the one hand Slappy Squirrel wanted to get laid with him BUT on the other hand he had less than 2 hours and counting before the bomb went off!! If he wanted to get out still alive and breathing then this would take all his prowess and experience he could muster. Bring the A game as they would say because someone of Slappy's age and all clearly got around and anything less would not bode well for our Imp boi.

So there Moxxie now sat on the mattress of Slappy's bed, shirtless and his pants remaining on for now as the fine wine aged squirrel stood before him. That mischievous erotic minx grin on her face as she proceeded to flash him, dropping her towel as she stood before him in all her naked glory. Oh yeah this silver fox of a squirrel hadn't merely aged gracefully, if anything she'd gotten better with age. As she walked up to him, leaning in a way that made those luscious furry boobs of hers jiggle as she took his hands and made him touch them.

Moxxie:"Ooh crumbs..."*Now really could you blame the little guy? Less than 2 hours passing by every second yet here he was with a naked Slappy Squirrel. Her body language just screaming she was down to fuck, her odor a scent of acorns and the indication of her recent aforementioned shower. There was no doubt this toon hit her peak at puberty and never left since and only gotten truly better with age. Unable to look away as she struck a few seductive pin-up poses, showing off and displaying her stunning assets.*

Slappy:"What do you think Little Man? All natural unlike some bimbos I can think to name? No need for all that gentle love making crud, go on ad give them a nice squeeze."*The sensual cougar of a squirrel playfully goaded, shuddering as she sensually bit her lip in response to Moxxie obliging her.* "Mmm damn good hands there...guessing I ain't the first set of tits you played with...then again, what gal wouldn't want that, right?"*She teased coyly as she reached down to caress his crotch, the material of his pants stiff and swollen with his length and girth. Licking her lips as she decided to get a more direct look at the goods she was going to be playing with. Unzipping his fly and pulling down the waistband, boxers and all when her prize sprung out like a jack in the box.*"........Jesus, Mary and goddamn Joseph, where you been all my life, Little Man?"

Moxxie:*blushed as he smiled cutely and modestly, unable to help himself from massaging and playing with Slappy's furry boobs.* "Uhm something like the south...the very deep south."*It wasn't quite a lie, after all Hell was a deep south as you could get. Before he shuddered as Slappy grasped and began to stroke his cock, firmly and steady as she pressed her lips to his. Feeling her tongue shove its way with a thirst on par with honeymoon night with Millie.*

Slappy:*broke the sloppy kiss for air, stray strands of saliva connecting as she panted with desire, hugging Moxxie's face as she pressed it deep against the valley of her grey furred titties. Still beating his meat as she felt Moxxie purr against how warm she felt, her blue eyes gazing at him with a skyrocketing lust.*"Well Little Man from deep down south, I want you to take this damn cock and fuck me into a sexual coma. Fuck me 'til it feels like your dick falls off or I literally die of orgasm. Can you do that for me, Little Man? You want to fuck me so bad I might look like I'd be carrying your kids?"* The sly erotic squirrel grinned with delight as Moxxie gave her his answer in the best possible way. Squeezing and suckling on her boobs, showing he wasn't just experienced with women but not stranger to handling a furry woman either.*

Naturally Slappy was only more than fine to let out deepthroated gasps and moans as she began making out with the imp with a thirst and passion that put horny, hormone addled teenagers to shame. Their lips and tongues dancing together with sloppy desire as they fell on the bed together rolling a tangle of limbs. Silvery grey fur pressed and rubbing against crimson red skin before Slappy found found herself laying atop the imp in a 69 position. Planting her furred booty his face as her bushy tail wagged sensually in satisfaction as grasped and stroked his cock once more.

The silver fox of a squirrel breathed in deep the raw masculine scent radiating off of that dick as she began to plant kisses and licks upon it, spine tingling from the tip of her tail right along her nerves to her brain. Her arousal skyrocketing as she felt Moxxie’s hands grabbing her ass with firm squeezes as she found him eating her out, a very skilled and long tongue probing aw at her slit. This served to further fuel Slappy’s desire as she proceeded to return the favour, taking the length and girth of the imp’s dick and displayed her wealth of sexual experience with stunning fellatio. Deepthroating him in ways that would put even the most skilled porn star to shame before she levelled up the pleasure by sandwiching his shaft between her tits.

Slappy:*grinning sensually as she shot a look over her shoulder at the imp, as she rode on his face. Squeezing his head between her thighs as she stroked and jerked him off with a furry titfuck on his drool soaked dick.* “Mmhm, you’re not making too bad a first impression little man, I’ve made horses and bulls blow their load just from a handjob. Now I’m really looking forward to the min event. Remember, don’t do gentle, I want to fucking rut…” *She further emphasised her point as she locked her mouth back onto that dick. Licking and sucking what wasn’t covered by her big furry melons.*

Moxxie was well aware how intense and rough Slappy wanted it, unknown to most but a few select fans was that Slappy had a very active sex life. Some rumours went about that she’d done some porn here and there, even still today she held a high rank as the most searched GMILF/GILF around. Plus the fact he still had a bomb to worry about only reminded him this wasn’t just sex for surviving the wrath of Slappy, it was to fuck for his life!! As he smacked Slappy’s ass like a bingo drum, making the cougar of a squirrel moan as he continued to display his own oral skills, getting her nice and wet.

As soon as the moment to proceed past foreplay presented itself of course, our fave possum wasted no time in seizing the moment to rock Slappy’s world. And oooh was she finding it rocked Damn good as Slappy rode him cowgirl style, moaning deeply and lewdly with little to no shame. Her furry tits bouncing hypnotically as the Imp’s hands were squeezing her furry booths and sensually rubbing her swaying tail. That absolute unit of a dick of his hammering away as the squirrel saw a rising and falling bump indicating how deep his length and girth was hitting her.

It was enough to make Slappy wish she was a few decades younger just so this stud really could put a baby in her but all the same, he really knew how to make a woman feel horny. The silver squirrel relishing any and every moment he would cum inside her as they went through a variety of positions. A minute man he was not, no wham bam thank you ma’am here as even took it anal and oral, especially loving when he’d fuck her face as if her mouth and throat were an onahole. It was like he was fucking her as if his life depended on it which unknown to her, it literally was!!

Eventually after what felt an eternity, Moxxie checked his watch to see he had between 5 to minutes remaining on the bomb. Hips blurring as he was taking Slappy doggy style, the intensity and pace so bliss numbing that Slappy couldn’t help but fall into a prone bone position. Ass jiggling as her eyes glowed with pink hearts showing how pleasure overboard her brain was, her face a very rare expressions of fucked silly no fan had likely ever seen on her eben in her porn career. Before she felt the sweet embrace of unconsciousness take her as she came together with the imp one final time, sleep taking her as she basked in the afterglow.

Slappy:*mumbled into her pillow as Moxxie scrambled to make his escape, cock withdrawn from her slit as he rushed to grab and gather up his clothes.* “Daaaamn little man, if I was to die right now? I’d have no regrets…Fucking, A…”*So out of it that she hadn’t realised anything amiss or notice Moxxie jump right through her window. The imp running far away fast as he could, calling Millie or Loona to open up a portal back to Imp City. Just in time as the timer hit Zero, Slappy’s treehouse going up in a flaming mushroom cloud implosion.*

Over the next few days, The living world headlines were running amuck with the news of the sudden and shocking passing of Slappy Squirrel, most chalking it up to a possible gas leak at the least or a hit from one of her enemies. Down in hell, to be precise IMP’s office in Imp city, Moxxie, Millie and Loona were enjoying a rare bit of peace and quiet. The former Especially needed it given he was coping with having survived getting caught in the crossfire or the fact he up and actually offed Slappy Squirrel thatnis after he boned her. When suddenly the phone rang as the hellhound picked it up to answer.

Loona:”I.M.P, who do you want dead and why? Make it quick while I actually try to give a fuck…”*Speaking in her usual aloof blunt manner, humming as whoever was on the other end seemed to do something rare. Actually holding her attention and curiosity as she seemed intrigued.*”Ah-huh…mhmm…you don’t say…hang on…” *Moxxie and Millie seemed puzzled as Loona was grinning, giving the latter a knowing look as she set the phone to speaker. A familiar New Yorker accented husky voice speaking up.*

Slappy:”Hey there little man…..”*Moxxie widened his eyes in shock and panic. Why oh crumbs of course the squirrel wound up and no doubt wanted one thing…revenge!!*” Eeh now don’t worry I ain’t mad at you, You were doing a job besides which, I found ol’ Walter and tore him a new one. That’s what he gets for thinking he got the last laugh. Now how’s about you being that cute little Red Devil booty of yours over here and make my afterlife erotic? See you soon handsome…”*Moxxie had the most adorable dumbstruck expression on his face as the sinner squirrel hung up. Before he felt his phone vibrate, fishing it out to find she’d sent him her address…in the lust circle along with a picture of her naked and posing seductively. Millie and Loona looking over his shoulder, quite impressed.*

Millie:0w0”Hey Moxxie can I come along? I want to have a taste of that silver squirrel myself….”

Moxxie:”ooooh crumbs…”

[polycrowtruther]

As Kaz stumbled down the Market, chest weeping sticky blood, he felt himself smile. Sharp, dangerous, but with a newfound glee bubbling within him. He popped the safe end of the smudged incense between his lips as he reached out for the stall closest to him. He swiped a leaf of wax paper, folding Oiwa’s old silks and wrapping them in the paper as he kept walking forward. At the next stall he casually unspooled a length of twine, angling it against the sharp edge of the counter so it would snap and tail behind him obediently. He wrapped the bundle efficiently as he walked, until he had reached his newfound destination. 

“Dolinde,” He called out, removing the spent incense stick and tucking it under the straps of the tied package with a flourish, “I need you to make a delivery.”

“I’m working, bossman,” Dolinde, a freshly fourteen-year-old Zemni girl, retorted. She ran a bustling stall selling shortbread at the end of the West Stave. She was a talented baker, specializing in sweet pastries and bread that melted in your mouth. Flakey, warm and fresh. Matthias was obsessed with all of her baked goods, and made Kaz stop frequently whenever work took them close to the West Stave. As such, Dolinde became an honorary Dreg of sorts. She was a shrewd business woman who always bargained hard and networked harder. She spoke eight languages roughly, and five of them fluently. 

“Make time for me, and I’ll make it worth your wild,” Kaz shrugged. 

“Oh please. With what, your little pocket drüskelle? Newsflash, his labor is free now, he comes to help me make deliveries of his own volition,” Dolinde said haughtily, “You have nothing to offer me. I don’t want your money, and I don’t need your labor.”

“Not even if the delivery is at the bequest of the Ghost King?” Kaz raised an eyebrow, already knowing he had won. More than anything, Dolinde loved rumors. He had wrangled many a favor out of her in exchange for ghost stories and torrid gossip. With this newfound talk of a Ghost King, she must have been frothing at the mouth for more details. Details that he was sure he could provide, if she were willing to cooperate. 

Dolinde scowled, eyes narrowing, “Talk of the King of Ghosts only surfaced this morning, and you already claim to be working for him?”

“Working with him,” Kaz corrected, “I don’t work for anybody. So, are you interested or not?”

“What’s the delivery?” She asked skeptically, but Kaz could see she was practically vibrating with excitement already. 

“This goes directly to Tante Heleen herself,” Kaz said, handing over the bundled package, “Compliments of the Ghost King and his malevolent shadow Tamiya Oiwa.” 

Dolinde’s eyes bulged in shock, “So the Ghost King really did tame the Shadow of Yotsuya?”

“She tamed him, so I heard,” Kaz smiled knowingly. “Will you deliver it or not?”

Dolinde studied the package for a moment, eyes picking up every detail available, “Yeah, sure, I’ll deliver it. Payment’s the usual?”

“There’ll be a stool waiting for you at the Six, and if you bring something baked I’m sure Jesper will add a glass or two of Amasi to your payment as well,” Kaz nodded, “I’ll give you just about every detail I know. But give me at least a day before you hound me for details. I have business to attend to first.”

“The deal is the deal,” Dolinde said with a mock salute, tucking the package under the counter of her stall. By the end of the day it’ll be back at the Menagerie, hopefully driving Tante Heleen positively nuts. Kaz delighted at the thought of it.

(Sequal to The Shadow of Yotsuya coming soon on Ao3!

In the meantime, read The Shadow of Yotsuya here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/48130705)

[fandomficsnstuff]

Hungry Dogs

(Warnings: Some slight fluff at the start and then some angst, blood and some more angst at the end)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy wiped away the sweat from her brow as she panted heavily, tucking a stray strand of hair out of her face as she looked over her little ‘project’. So far, so good. She continued to use the small shovel to dig the hole and when she was satisfied with it’s depth, she put the shovel down, walking over to a log she had used a small hatched to cut down, the bark removed as she dragged it towards the hole she had made, straining, groaning as she managed to push it and drag it closer and closer.

“What are you doing?” 

She spun around at the sound of the voice, her gun out and aimed but she quickly lowered it when she saw who it was, sighing heavily “don’t sneak up on me, Carl! I could’ve shot you” she scolded before continuing to try and push the log towards the hole, Carl scoffing as he walked over, taking off his hat before helping her. They both managed to get the end of the log into the hole, using a rope and the tree the log would stand near to lift up the log, tying it to keep it in place while Daisy and Carl shoved the hole full of dirt, packing it tightly to keep the log in place. For now. “I’m-... it’s nothing” she muttered concerning his previous question and Carl frowned at her, looking up at the old treehouse “what are you going to do with it?”

“I don’t know… make it more-... durable? I don’t know, it’s a good place to stash weapons, not many people could just stumble around and find it” she admitted with a shrug as she continued to pack the dirt as tightly as possible, Carl watching her before standing up with a sigh “what are you doing out here, Daisy?”

“I’m trying to convince myself to not murder Negan” she answered honestly, looking up at Carl before sighing, getting up herself and wiping off her dirty hands on her old, tattered jeans that were barely held together by patches and duct tape. “Okay” Carl sighed, taking off his gun belt and knife, placing them near Daisy’s other things before kneeling back down, continuing to pack the dirt around the log. “Try and untie it” he ordered softly and she studied him before smiling a little, nodding to herself as she walked over to where the rope was tied securely, making sure Carl was out of the way before untying the rope, slowly letting it go, a large grin forming on her face when she saw that it held, the log staying in place “oh my god…” she muttered with a big grin, Carl sharing her grin. “So, what now?”

“U-Uhm, I-I found this old survival book a while back and I was thinking of making a ladder?”

“A ladder?”

“Yeah, it looks easy enough” she admitted with glee and a spark in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in years, a big grin on her lips as she giggled, hurrying over to grab the small hatchet and her gun, the rope still in her hand that held the hatchet. “Keep an eye out, okay?” she called before jogging off somewhere in the woods, Carl scoffing quietly with amusement as he waited for her to return. A few minutes later, she returned, dragging a bundle of smaller but reliable logs and sticks behind her, all of them quite long, almost twice her size. Probably twice his size too, the rope tied around them as she used it to drag them, a few specks of blood on her cheek and he frowned but she looked almost euphoric “there was a walker. Or two, I got them” she replied, dragging the long branches and small logs over before jogging over to his knife, grabbing it and walking back over to him, handing it to him “okay, so, the book says to peel off the bark and you can sort of peel it off like an orange? It’s what I did with that log that we just pulled up. Like this,” she kneeled down to one of the thicker, more reliable of the small logs, using the hatchet to hack a line down the wood, from one end to another before using the blade to gently pry off the bark where she had cut it, continuing along the line she had made and then she rolled the log, a big grin on her lips as it was just as she said, like peeling an orange. “See?” she asked with joy and he smiled, nodding and she walked over, showing him how to cut the bark without damaging the wood under it too much, showing him how to carefully peel and lift the bark before he could roll it off like she had done.

Both of them were sweating by the time the walkie talkie that Carl had brought with him clicked, a large grin on Daisy’s lips as she sat on a log they hadn’t pulled up yet, Carl getting up to grab the radio while Daisy grinned from ear to ear as she ate from the can she had brought, mouth full when Carl turned to her with a smirk “your uncle is back” he stated and her eyes widened. Carl grinned as she got up and gathered her things, a grin on her lips before she jogged out of the woods, Carl catching up with her after getting his own things, placing his sheriff’s hat on her head as he caught up with her from behind, making her giggle a little as they both continued towards Alexandria. Towards home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Daisy was quiet as she tugged on Carl’s shirt, making him look in her direction and then he saw it. Or rather, he saw him. Daisy turned her head to look at Carl, their gazes locked and she frowned, a silent question; ‘Are you sure about this?’

And he gave a brief nod, making her nod as well, sighing a little before continuing to approach as quietly as possible, both of them watching as he took out a walker. “It’s okay” Carl whispered as Daisy held onto him as he tried to step forward, Daisy hesitantly letting go and he cupped her cheek lovingly before turning back towards the guy. “Hey” he called, gaining the man’s attention and instantly he raised his hands, the bag still in his right hand as he dared to approach, slowly, as slowly as humanly possible. Daisy was about to put an arrow on her bowstring when Carl held his hand out behind him “no, no don’t” he whispered and she sighed, putting away the arrow and then the bow, raising her hands a little as she looked around, looking out for any walkers as Carl approached the man “it was my dad. They- They were warning shots, above your head. He wasn’t shooting at you” Carl assured him as he continued to move towards the man, the stranger’s eyes moving to Daisy as she remained put, looking around with a small frown, clearly keeping an eye out and Carl followed his gaze briefly before looking ahead again, smiling as he continued to walk closer “I’m Carl, and that’s my girlfriend, Delilah. She’s just-... nervous around strangers-”

“I’m not nervous!” Daisy hissed, making Carl smirk a little, trying to hold back a laugh as he continued towards the stranger “she won’t shoot you, I promise” Carl added, the man studying both of them before looking back at Carl, his knife lowered a little, but still held up. “Siddiq” he muttered and Carl nodded, looking over his shoulder at Daisy and she hesitantly walked closer, her hands raised as well, her expression was softer when she looked at Siddiq. “We brought you some food and water…” Daisy gestured to the bag that Carl had, Siddiq studying both of them with suspicion “why?” he asked and Daisy turned to Carl, the three of them interrupted when they both heard stumbling, Daisy already taking out her knife, slowly so as to not scare Siddiq. “I’m just going to take care of that walker, okay?” she asked and when he nodded, she nodded in return, looking at Carl briefly before walking over to the walker, whistling, guiding it away from Carl and Siddiq before plunging her knife into it’s skull, pulling out the knife as the walker fell to the ground and she looked around, wiping her bloody knife on her jeans before walking back to Carl and Siddiq, seeing that Carl had thrown the bag towards Siddiq and he had emptied the bottle of water, clutching it between his hands. “Thanks…” he murmured and Daisy looked at Carl, the two sharing a brief moment in silence before Daisy sheathed her knife, stepping a little closer before kneeling down to be at level with Siddiq, even though he was still a few feet away from her.

“We’re from a community, Carl and I, and his dad…” she noticed how his eyes lit up and she sighed softly “we’re going to ask you a few things… three questions… Please, answer honestly… How many walkers have you killed?...” she asked softly, Siddiq studying her with slight confusion and she nodded towards the walker he had taken out before and then the one she herself had taken out “it’s what we call them… how many walkers have you killed?”

“Why?”

“Just-... answer?...” she asked with a small wince and he studied her with slight confusion. “I know it’s hard to keep track-”

“237…” Siddiq answered her and she nodded, standing up when he did “really?”

“Give or take a couple” he muttered as he looked over his shoulder at the dead walker, Daisy smirking a little, looking at Carl who smiled at her, gesturing to her and she nodded, stepping forward again. “How many people have you killed?...”

“One…”

“Why?”

“The dead tried to kill him, but-... they didn’t…” he admitted and Daisy frowned, reaching up to scratch behind her ear but Carl caught her hand before she could touch the scar, interlocking his fingers with hers as they both shared a look before Carl looked ahead at Siddiq again. “You’re making walker traps, is that how you’ve killed so many?”

“It’s… it’s only part of it” he admitted quietly “my mom thought, or hoped, that killing them would-...” he cut himself off and Daisy sighed “that it would set them free” she finished, Siddiq nodding ever so slightly “yeah” he muttered and she looked at Carl with soft eyes, carefully sliding her hand out of his to approach Siddiq, stepping a little closer before stopping “I can’t remember how many walkers I’ve killed… I can’t remember how many people I’ve killed… but I remember why… it was all to protect my family… Carl, his dad, his sister, my uncle… everyone back home… and I remember the names of everyone we’ve lost along the way… I don’t forget their names… I write them down in a little book because I don’t want to forget why I’ve killed all the walkers I have, why I had to kill the people that attacked them…” she stated softly, looking over her shoulder at Carl before looking back at Siddiq. “We have a home… you can come back with us, if you want?”

“A-Are-... are you honoring your parents? Is that why?”

“If he was honoring his dad he wouldn’t be here, and he most definitely wouldn’t bring you back with us to our community” Daisy stated utterly amused when she gestured to Carl, turning back to look at Siddiq with a small smile “and my mom and dad couldn’t give two less shits about me, even before all of this. But the woman who helped raise me after all of this began, she would, and I know my uncle would be mad at me for being out here but he’d also know it was the right thing to do” Daisy admitted sheepishly, looking at Carl before looking back at Siddiq. “Come on. We have a ton of apple trees” she added the last bit jokingly, seeing the first real sign of a real smile on Siddiq’s lips at the joke.

Everything was quiet on the way back until they all heard growling, Daisy frowning at the sight that met her when they got closer, an arrow on her bowstring and Carl looked at her as she raised her bow, drawing the string back before lowering her bow and releasing the string without firing the arrow “they’re hunched over, I can’t get their heads. I could try moving to their side, fire from there? I should be able to take them out.”

“No, it’s too dangerous for them to just stumble towards you. We’ll sneak up from behind and-”

“Carl” she turned to face him, putting her bow and arrow down to cup his face in her hands, grinning from ear to ear “it’s not like I’ll lay myself down on the ground and ring a dinner bell, it’s just three walkers, I’ll have you, at the very least” she stated with a shrug, Carl studying her before gently shaking his head “no, we do this together, please?” he asked and she nodded with a soft smile, putting her arrow and bow away as Carl turned to Siddiq “for your mom” he stated softly. Daisy carefully dropped her backpack near Carl’s as they got closer and closer to the walkers, her knife out of it’s sheath and she looked at Carl, smiling softly at him, how focused he was on being quiet. He looked cute when he focused. As the walkers noticed them and got up, her focus was brought back on the dead ones ahead of them, her grip on her knife tightening briefly as she made sure to stay near Carl. “One each” she stated softly, looking at Carl and Siddiq to see them nod before looking ahead again.

As a walker charged at her, she held out her hands, holding it back as it growled at her, snapping it’s bloody, dead jaws at her before she managed to kick it’s leg, it’s fragile bones breaking and when it was on the ground, kneeling, she quickly thrust her knife into it’s skull, hearing Siddiq telling them that they didn’t have to do this but she quickly ran over anyway, piercing the walker’s skull with her knife from behind, freeing Siddiq, just as Carl was pushed to the ground by a walker. “CARL!” she screamed, hurriedly leaning over and plunging her knife into it’s skull, yanking it off of him with a groan, helping him up just as more walkers filled the area, one of them attacking Siddiq and Carl hurried over while Daisy killed another walker with her knife. She heard Carl and Siddiq groan in struggle and turned to look at them, a loud scream of agony leaving her soon after as she felt white hot pain burning through her shoulder, right above her collarbone where her neck and shoulder met, the walker’s hand clawing at her right upper arm to hold onto her as it’s teeth bit into her neck. Her blood poured out from the wound as Carl killed the walker and Daisy slumped forward, searing pain burning through her as she held her hand over the wound, quickly stumbling to her feet and attacking another walker that reached for Siddiq who had stared at her with shock and worry, her knife piercing it’s skull before she stumbled to the ground, holding her hand over her wound, hovering above it, her hand shaking as she groaned in pain. It hurt to be scratched, it hurt to be cut, to be shot, but this… this was different… This hurt worse than all of them combined, four nasty scratches trailing down her right upper arm as well from where the walker had gripped her to hold onto her.

A few more gunshots rang out before something touched her shoulder and she jumped back, gun out and raised, ready to shoot the walker that had grabbed her, instead she saw that it was Carl, not a walker. She quickly lowered her gun, her eyes wide, heart racing as she slowly turned her head to look at where she’d been bitten, her eyes growing even wider at the sight and she hesitantly lifted a shaking hand, her fingers barely touching the crimson liquid that poured out of her before she retracted it with a hiss of pain, staring at the blood on her fingertips with absolute horror. She slowly turned her head to look at a shocked Carl, tears starting to cloud her vision, her breath shaky as she felt like she couldn’t breathe, her lungs collapsed and she stared at the walker that Carl had killed, her blood staining it’s mouth and teeth.

“Carl?” her voice was quiet and meek, trembling, as she looked back up at him, her eyes locked onto him as he quickly kneeled by her side, carefully moving the collar of her shirt a little more to expose the bite a little, using his sleeve to gently wipe away the blood, only for more and more to come pouring out of it “it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s not that deep, okay? It’s not that deep-” he cut himself off, swallowing the lump in his throat, too hyped up on adrenaline to feel the hurt and pain in his side, his focus solely on her as she sat there, on the verge of hyperventilating as she just… stared at him… she stared at him like she was committing his face to memory, as though he’d die at any second now. Siddiq was also on the verge of panicking, guilt flooding him like a river that broke through a dam“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry I didn’t-... I shouldn’t-”

“It wasn’t your choice” she finally stuttered out, voice still shaking and she shook her head, still staring at Carl before looking at Siddiq, tears rolling down her cheeks “it’s okay…” she mumbled, turning back to Carl who stared at her, tears in his eyes and she gently shook her head, forcing a smile despite the agony she felt in her shoulder and upper arm “it’s okay… it should’ve happened a long time ago” she whispered, Carl shaking his head before standing up, leaning down and helping her to her feet, throwing her healthy arm over his shoulder “no. No, we’ll get you back to Alexandria and-”

“And what, Carl?... Cut off my neck?” she asked with bitter amusement, wincing in pain “I can walk” Daisy muttered, Carl frowning at her “are you sure? I don’t mind-”

“I can walk, it’s okay” she muttered, ripping off a part of her long sleeved shirt’s left sleeve, wincing in pain as the muscles in her neck and upper right arm were strained. She used the torn piece of cloth to dab at her wounds, Carl taking over with gentle hands, carefully dabbing at the wound but Daisy stopped him after the first few times, forcing a smile at him “it’s okay” she muttered, taking the cloth for herself while Carl nodded, hesitantly stepping back “I’m okay, just-... get our things?” she asked as she leaned against a tree, Carl nodding, hesitating before kissing her sweaty forehead, Daisy’s eyes closing in bliss at the small gesture, her shoulder felt like it was on fire, Carl picking up her backpack for her, intending to wear it himself, along with his own, when Siddiq hesitantly stopped him, putting on the backpack so he didn’t have to carry both of them, just his own. “You should’ve just left me…”

“You would’ve probably died” Daisy noted and he turned to her “but if you didn’t-... if I hadn’t-... I don’t want to be any more trouble than I’ve already been… I’m so sorry… I’m so so so sorry, I never meant for anyone to get hurt-”

“We’re both responsible for you now… that’s how this works…”

“I’m sorry, Delilah-”

“Daisy” she corrected, giving him a weak smile despite the pain she felt “my friends and family calls me Daisy” she muttered and Siddiq let out a shaky breath with tears in his eyes, turning to Carl as he spoke but Daisy tuned them out, closing her eyes as she tried to steady her racing heart, the fear creeping up in her…

“Daisy… come on” Carl said softly as he walked over, Daisy nodding, wincing in pain at her shoulder before turning to Siddiq “hey, it wasn’t your fault… it wasn’t anyone’s fault except that walker” she said to Siddiq and nodded towards the dead walker that had bitten her, forcing a smile as she kept the cloth over the wound, trying to soak up some of the blood, it was no use running around smelling like bacon when surrounded by hungry dogs, after all.

[sroloc--elbisivni]

fic roundup, 2024

Words Posted:

according to Statistics page: 127,640. considering that number has some spillover from WIP chapters posted previous years and bundled in under the last update, mmmm....closer to 102,000 I think?

Additional Words Written:

handwaggle. around 15k scattered in 1000 and 2000 word-increments across various WIP docs. I generally write to post and I post what I write.

Fandoms:

Transformers

One Piece

Rottmnt

1990 movie TMNT

Usagi Yojimbo

Highest kudos + Highest Hit One-Shot:

I didn't do a whole lot of one-shots this year, so for both of those it's 'fate is just a world for all the things we can't control', a story for One Piece where Robin is time looping the events at Water 7. this one was honestly really fun. It's the first time in months I'd gotten clocked by the inspiration bat and gone 'oh yeah writing is FUN.' i wrote a lot of it at work, when I worked 11 PM-7 AM. four in the morning fic on company time.

New Things I Tried:

the Usagi fic I wrote this year was a set of 10 drabbles making one story. i should do that again sometime, that was a lot of fun. cut me open, call me home involved a lot of writing in the style of old oral tradition fairytales, which was entirely new and harder than I expected it to be!

Fic I Spent The Most Time On:

hm. i think both in terms of hours and the fic that took the most months from start to finish, it would be Casey Jones and the Forty Thieves, the 1990s moviefic which I first put down words for in August 2023 and which got posted February 2024. wAIT NO Carlyfic, Winter Music, has a section in it that I wrote back in January 2023, on my phone at the Waltham commuter rail stop.

Fic I Spent The Least Time On: Ad Lib, which was a bit of a one-day endeavor.

Favourite Thing I Wrote: I really, really, really like how Winter Music turned out. I also liked competitive agoraphobia exposure therapy so much that I'm now working on a sort-of-sequel.

Favourite Thing(s) I Read: going to cheat a little and link my bookmarks, because I got into One Piece this year and ohhhhhhhhhh man is there some good stuff in there. special shoutout to two of my favorite urban fantasy fics from that corner of the internet: King Tide by carriecmoney, and A Crown of Flowers by HyperbolicReverie, which just finished. I also adored Unknown System, or, New Peoples by alatarmaia4 which is a Murderbot/Discworld crossover.

Writing Goals for 2025: [clenches fist] mushroomverse moviefic. I'm gonna get there. I'm gonna get the buildup. I'm gonna stick the landing. I also really want to finish the prompts I took back in 2023--I'll be making a list of those shortly so I can pin it and keep track. Oh, and I'm participating in the TruffyFest this year! I've got one thing in the works, and another prompt I have my eye on, so in a perfect world I'll finish those. I'd love to do another Big Bang or just another longfic in general, it's been ages, but that's more of a hope than a goal. as is finishing Passionate Pools. which is ON MY LIST.

New Works: Mostly One Piece. like I said I've got a sequel to the Heart Pirates on Zou fic in mind, which involves both spoilers and speculation for current manga stuff. I've got another couple fics in mind that may or may not be destined to be finished--Vivi stealing from the gods, Usopp playing Scheherazade in Wano. I have a list of what I'm doing for Mushroomverse each month until August, and I've got the Truffyfest works I can't talk about yet.

lessee, tags. anyone who wants to, and i'm gonna hit up @secretlystephaniebrown @magicalspacedragon and @kithnkin in particular because i'm nosy. i wanna see your data!!

[k-is-for-potassium]

glam + burn (tx2) post cuz ive been putting it off for a while :D

cw: alcoholism, domestic abuse, and sh mention, swearing, uhh thoughts of murder?

this is mostly about younger glam (like s1 e9 and 10 ish)

the violin intro – glam was under so much pressure to be perfect at the violin so i feel like hed have quite a bit of trauma from it

"i hope you burn" (basically just the whole chorus) – this reminded me of that one bit in his journal where he lets himself slip and writes about what he'd do to gustav if he could. also gustav was an asshole who deserved a painful death

"'cause there's no such thing as hell, but if there was, you'd be the first to burn" – 99% sure glam (and the rest of his metal family) are atheist. also gustav is dead

"oh fuck, what have i done" – i feel like glam would have a bit of trouble snapping back to the calm side of himself, so he may have a few of those thoughts but overall get absorbed into the merciless revenge. idk i wasn't sure how to explain this

"all the words you spit are ingrained" – remember when glam kept snapping at dee while trying to teach him guitar? yeah that's definitely from gustavs constant verbal abuse

"treat a woman like a bitch" – we can't ignore the way mary kept flinching and was always hesitant around gustav. also "she's a girl! [insert whatever comes next cuz i forgot]" like dude. a bit misogynistic, amirite

"i guess your kid's gone mad" – yeah sorry glam but you're a tad bit silly

"look at my wrist" – i believe tx2s original meaning behind this was... something else, but glam also has scars on his wrist from gustavs ruler (which he covers up with the wristbands)

"an alcoholic who couldn't look farther" – gustav was definitely an excessive drinker, and he also couldn't look farther, seeing glam only as someone who needed to be the best of the best, no matter what

honorable mention: "who's the f*g now" – not a glam thing but this was good wordplay because it's both the slur and an old word for a bundle of sticks, like ones that would typically be used in fires

dang this turned out longer than i expected

let's hope it's seen by more than four people :D