#U CUTE T HING

[koushirouizumi]

{D I G I M O N 02} x Text Posts Meme + The Beginning!Steve & Yukidarumon {Frigimon} ~ {CANON!} JEWISH-American Chosen Child/Chosen One (Confirmed in the 02 Memorial Book Post-02 Production) {I.M.G by Me} (ASK to Use/Share) {DO NOT RE-POST} {DO NOT RE-SHARE} +To Other Sites Without My PERMISSION!}

[usmsgutterson]

The Collector - S.R x Hotchner! Reader

Oooookay!! I've developed a little bit of a pattern of having m u l t i p l e spencer reid fics out with only a few days between and I feel like my current wip is going in a direction I don't really like, so this is just a cute little fic because I feel the urge to publish something instead of watching more criminal minds or editing my current wip to fix it's course.

I've had a l o t of thoughts about spencer with hotchner! reader who's also an author and bibliophile, and while yeah, that's the premise for my current WIP, it's also a point in this one (they'll be two different depictions in two different settings) because I just can't stop thinking about it. The concept has me wholly entranced.

The fic title is riffed from the song The Collector by Searows because I listened to that while writing this one and I am simply too lazy to come up with something else.

Fic type - fluff with some hurt/comforty undertones

Warnings - there are mentions of a difficult case (not specified), there are mentions of sharks (hammerheads are blabbed about a la reidsplaining, and thresher sharks are mentioned), and this one is not edited beyond bare bones because I whipped it up in an hour and a half and wanted to get it out as soon as possible.

When Spencer gets home, the part of him that actively seeks you out is a little anxious not to find you in the living room, lounging on the couch while drinking tea and reading a book like you usually are when he gets home after a case, but it takes him a second before he remembers why the routine has changed.

You, a very accomplished author and person both, are writing again. Your agreement with the publishing house that's been with you since you were seventeen states that you have to have one book out every year, and while sometimes your books don't require a lot of research, a fair bit of the time they require at least or two of it before the drafting process begins.

And, Spencer remembers, you like to write in what he knows to be your domain--since you'd moved into a house that was almost too big for just the two of you, you've had a little home library. It's floor to ceiling with shelves, and the ceilings are pretty freakin' high out, taller than Spencer is by around four feet. You need a ladder to get to some of the stuff you read, and the walls are lined with more than 1,000 books that both you and Spencer had read in varying languages.

He sets his messenger bag down at a chair in the dining room table and pretty much makes a beeline for you from there--it's been a tough case. He's spent the last two weeks in Nevada and while he did get the chance to see Ethan while he was there, the case itself took a toll on his mental health and he just wants to steal one minute of your time.

He opens the door quietly in an effort not to disturb you, but it hardly works. You turn around when the door croaks because the hinges are rusted to hell and neither you or Spencer has had the time to put some WD-40 on them to stop the squeaking.

When you see him, your face breaks out into a grin. "Hey, Spence," you greet. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him as you approach, and like you know exactly what he needs, you pull him into a tight hug.

"How'd you know?"

"Aaron texted," you answer. "While you guys were on the way back--said you looked a little worse for wear. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he answers. "Just--case took a lot out of me, and I really missed you."

You've developed, over the last ten years of the relationship, the sort of innate ability to read Spencer like he's an open book, and you know he doesn't really want to talk about it so you don't push him.

"I'm right here," you respond, squeezing him just a little. You've missed him too, while he's been gone, but that feels like bullshit because you always miss him when he's away. Every single time, without fail, when you have to go to bed alone, you find yourself putting on one of his work shirts because it smells like him and spending the night all yearny because you miss him until you fall asleep.

When you pull away, your head tilts on instinct. "You okay?" You ask again. "What are you thinking? I can see the cogs turning in that handsome brain of yours, Spence."

"I'm sorry for interrupting," he says. "I know that you're working, Y/N, and--"

"You're not interrupting anything," you answer. "Aaron told me you'd be coming back today and I've been hopped up on caffeinated tea waiting for you to get home. I've been trying to do a bit of research with regards to the book I'm supposed to start next week, but I haven't been able to focus because you're the only thing I can think about."

Spencer smiles softly, and you turn your laptop off and then shut it before pulling him back in.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck before you can stop yourself, really--you've missed him like hell, and when you feel him do the same to you, you know that he's really been through hell since he was last in Virginia.

The two of you hug for a lot longer than either of you initially expect. You don't pull away until Spencer does, which must be fifteen minutes gone.

"We're staying in tonight," you murmur, e/c eyes meeting his brown ones. "Ordering pizza or pasta or--something good, and we're going to watch the shark documentary we saw on Netflix the day before you left."

"You've decided, have you?" Spencer asks, a teasing smile threatening to poke at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," you nod. "And Penelope sent me her recipe for carrot muffins so I'm gonna make those to eat as a snack, and I've really missed your voice so I--just talk, Spence. Please."

You're grabbing him by the hand and leading him out to your kitchen as you speak, and when he starts rambling per your request, you're grabbing a mixing bowl and a spatula.

"Hammerhead sharks are a lot more interesting than they seem," Spencer begins. "Their scientific name is Syphrnidae, they keep to a carnivorous diet and they live 20-30 years on average while in the wild. They use their heads to help them hunt for their food, which is primarily stingrays as well as other kinds of rays, squids and crustaceans that live on the ocean floor. There are nine different species of hammerhead and with a length of an average 13-20 feet, the great hammerhead is one of the largest sharks in the world and it's the largest species of the nine in the Syphrnidae family."

As he talks, you get yourself busy with the baking, happy to let Spencer ramble until he runs out of breath because you've missed the sound of his voice. By the time the carrot muffins are in the oven, he's moved from hammerhead sharks to thrasher sharks and when you've closed it, he's stopped talking and is just--looking at you like you're the love of his life.

"What?" You ask, noticing his gaze.

Spencer shakes his head as though he means to clear his thoughts from it, shrugs, and says, "nothing."

You laugh. "I call bullshit," you say. "Just because my brother went on to be one of the profilin' types and I became an author doesn't mean I can't read you like an open book, Spence. What's going on in your head?"

He leans against the counter top, crosses his arms over his chest, and smiles.

"You fell in love with "one of the profilin' types", Y/N," he says. "And, yeah, you can read me like an open book. Never thought to be closed around you, and a decade gone, I am reaping the benefits."

"Yeah?" You ask, putting your dishes into the sink and giving them a rinse so that they're not mucky when they go into the dishwasher. "How so?"

"I'm home after two weeks on one of the roughest cases of my career," he says. "And I get to come home to you. That makes me feel lucky in and of itself."

"Yeah?" You repeat, turning to him with a grin as you wipe the water off of your hands and onto the nearest dry washcloth. "You're sure that the whole--the whole double PhD in Creative Writing and Psych, or the multiple pieces I've written that've been put into reputable news sources, or all of the books I've written since we met when I was nineteen and you were twenty--that has fuck all to do with it?"

He reaches out, his hands gracing your hips with a touch so delicate that it's almost intoxicating. "I fell in love with you for you, Y/N," he says. "Not your accomplishments, though boasting about you does have it's bonuses."

Your arms wrap around his shoulders. "I love you too, Spence."

"Because of my genius, or in spite of it?"

"Because of it, but it's not the only reason," you murmur. "I love you because of how kind you are, how courageous you are in the face of danger. I love you for your occasional sarcasm and the rambles that it seems nobody else in your office really enjoys. I love you because of earl grey tea on sunday mornings and forehead kisses when you're coming home from a case at three in the morning. I love you for who you are, not everything you've done."

When he finally kisses you, he tastes like earl grey tea and mint, and you love it--you love him so much that it just about consumes you whole, but you're happy to let it if it comes to that.

When Spencer pulls away, his brown eyes meeting yours just before your foreheads touch, he breathes in.

"It's good to be home," he whispers. "Amazing to be home, actually."

You laugh, kissing him quickly before turning your attention to the living room. You take him with you, the two of you waddle-walking because you don't want to separate after days spent only communicating through phone calls and facetimes.

When you finally plop onto the couch, you let yourself be held by him, and man, does it feel amazing.

[forever-1895]

Mr. Sherlock Holmes

Pay attention! To how cute and soft and bubbly Holmes is when he first met Watson in a Study in Scarlet. Just like a BABY. (long post btw)

While on the way to meet Sherlock Holmes, Stamford tries to warn Watson about how machine-like this guy can be. But he's wrong!

Here's PROOF:

At the sound of our steps he [Sherlock Holmes] glanced round and sprang to is feet with a cry of pleasure. "I've found it! I've found it," he shouted to my companion [Stamford], running towards us with a test tube in his hand. "I have found a reagent which is precipitated by haemoglobin and nothing else." Had he discovered a gold mine, greater delight could not have shone upon his features.

I found it! I found it! (p≧w≦q)

"Dr. Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said Stamford, introducing us. "How are you?" he said cordially, gripping my hand with a strength for which I should hardly have given him credit. "You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive." "How on earth did you know that?" I asked in astonishment. "Never mind," said he, chuckling to himself. "The question now is about haemoglobin..."

how are u? (✿◡‿◡)

"Why, man, it is the most practical medico-legal discovery for years. Don't you see that it gives us an infallible test for blood stains? Come over here now!" he seized me by the coat sleeve in his eagerness...

THE MOST AMAZING FABULOUS PRACTICAL NOBEL-PRIZE MEDICO-LEGAL DISCOVERY EVERRR!!!!! \(≧∇≦)ﾉ

"Ha ha!" he said clapping his hands, and looking as delighted as a child with a new toy. "What do you think of that?"

🎩

༼ つ ◕∇◕ ༽つ ⚗️🧪 = ༼ つ ◕∇◕ ༽つ 🧸🚗

"Criminal cases are continually hinging upon that one point. A man is suspected of a crime months perhaps after it has been committed. His linen or clothes are examined and brownish stains discovered upon them. Are they bloodstains, or mud stains, or rust stains, or fruit stains, or what are they? That is a question that has puzzled many an expert and why? Because there was no reliable test. Now we have the Sherlock Holmes' test, and there will no longer be any difficulty. " His eyes fairly glittered as he spoke, and he put his hand to his heart snd bowed as if to some applauding crowd conjured up by his imagination.

EVERYONE, Behold...

The Sherlock Holmes' test

And my man's got glittering eyes!

Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted at the idea of sharing his rooms with me. "I have an eye on a suite in Baker Street," he said, "which would suit us down to the ground. You don't mind the smell of strong tobacco I hope?" "I always smoke 'ship's' myself,' I answered. "That's good enough. I generally have chemicals about, and occasionally do experiments. Would that annoy you?"

Of course Holmes is delighted! Stamford just got him a beau!

"Let me see - what are my other shortcomings? I get in the dumps at times, and don't open my mouth for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when I do that. Just let me alone, and I'll soon be right. What have you to confess now? It's just as well for two fellows to know the worst of one another before they begin to date live together." I laughed at this cross-examination. "I keep a bull pup," I said, "and I object to rows because my nerves are shaken, and I get up at all sorts of ungodly hours, and I am extremely lazy. I have another set of vices when I'm well, but those are the principal ones at present."

sulky little holmes o(TヘTo)

"Do you include violin playing in your category of rows?" he asked, anxiously. "It depends on the player," I answered. "A well-played violin is a treat for the gods - a badly-played one - " "Oh, that's all right," he cried, with a merry laugh. "I think we may consider the thing as settled - that is if the rooms are agreeable to you."

do you include violin-playing in your category of rows? (•᷄- •᷅ ;)

"Call for me here at noon tomorrow, and we'll go together and settle everything," he answered. "All right - noon exactly," - said I, shaking his hand. We left him working among his chemicals, and we walked together towards my hotel.

[deuxadeux-if]

Poly option is intriguing 👀 but I'm set to pick M no matter what - they seem so cute ☺️ I'm sure my MCs gonna freak them out with the immediate interest, it'll be very "introducing skittish cat to large, incredibly excitable dog that really likes cats" - avoidance won't work M 😇

T and N are 🤨 tho. the more i read the more i question if theyre really good for M?? Like, poly will hinge on whether I feel like they deserve M or not 😤 If not its time to steal 🤺🤺 (or plan hostile takeover of the houshould, i guess, if theyre not that bad 🤷‍♂️)

i’m so glad you like m!!! they’re very mysterious so far since MC hasn’t officially met them ofc, but i think u will like them soo much if you do already. also HAHAHA hostile takeover is so funny but so real! do what u must do

[nottsangel]

bb may i ask how u met your bf? hinge in my area is so bad 🥴

;⭐

t…tinder 😓 i wish i had a cute romantic story but noo…

[writingforfishes]

(requests anon again 😭) sorry i thought of this immediately after submitting the last ask but this is probably the last thing?? if u write any of those please keep the ages like 18-25ish; the characters themselves within 3 or so years of each other but within that general range. yeah *that* should be it now loll

So firstly I apologize for taking so long responding to this.

I'm posting this ask specifically because the previous ask mentioned fandoms and ship names and I'd rather censor those to prevent fans from finding this blog.

You'd requested S/tranger T/hings fiction with S/teddie. I, unfortunately, haven't caught up on the show, though I am aware of the ship.

You'd requested a S/pider M/an and D/eadpool fiction. I'm also not familiar enough with either of their characters (to the extent I'd feel comfortable writing them) especially as you'd said you preferred a more of-age (understandably) P/eter P/arker from the comics.

You'd also requested a sort of sapphic story. Something that was two femmes or a femme and a nonbinary person.

less specific suggestion uhh, if you're okay writing girlxgirl or girlxenby, girl or fem/androgynous enby has the kink *and* a case, their gf is very aware of both...silly stuff ensues. could also have multiple gfs, one also having a case, if you're okay writing polyamory andddd if u use any of these, they can be fluffy or smutty (not terribly explicit but still nsfw if u want), can include drinking (alcholic or other), food, stuffing, sick/comfort, vore, and/or praise; would rather not include other bodily function kinks (or really any other bodily function at all except for like sneezing or coughing, i guess, cuz they're kinda related to hiccups and im not comfortable with the rest [especially emeto please avoid anything more than passive mention of emeto or avoid it entirely]), bodily fluids other than blood, and graphic depictions/descriptions of anything (can hiccups be graphically depicted?? if so then that's ok tho) lastly preferred hic specifics if u do any of these...anything that is fast/frequent, long-lasting, hard (not extremly painful but like hehe forceful), shakes the entire body or torso or just makes stomach/shoulders/chest jump. any volume (however i will generally suggest the combinations of "barely audible/inaudible but absolutely rocks their body each time" cuz thats cute asf and "not much movement but loud and strong" cuz that's hottttt). no preferences on how noises are described but i really like the basic short onomatopoeias like hic, hnk, huck, mphk, hmk, or any mixture of those letters yeah thats it lmao...can elaborate on stuff if neededdd hopefully these could at least give some inspiration or somethin

I do want to think about this request more. Right now my mind is stuck on Otto and Atticus. But I do have another character who's female that gets the hiccups (Cindy) but she doesn't have a hiccup kink.

(Also, I like those onomatopoeias too!)

As far as age goes, I will never write any character under 18. And I prefer writing characters over their mid-twenties. So no worries about that.

I really appreciate the request and I apologize that I'm not really adequately informed enough about the fandoms to fill the first two. I will keep the last one in mind. If you can think of any specific situations that you've always wanted to see don't hesitate to share them!

Actually, this ask has sort of inspired me to add a REQUEST section to my pinned post. It might help to let people know what my guidelines and comfort levels are!

This being SAID.

If anyone who is inspired to write hiccup kink fiction sees this post and wants to use the requests my anonymous follower has sent me to inspire their works, feel free! I'd love to see other people writing more fiction!

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Hey man I’m glad you liked the first soft Baku freak out when I tell you I have SO MANY I swear it’s the only thing my brain can come up with

Oh Baku is having a nightmare? Boom his crush crawls over him and holds him till he calms down or wakes up then what? Chuck that bitch across the room outa fear don’t question it just do it

Having fun at the pool or lake? Offer to put sunscreen on their back ( or just do it anyway who asks for permission when you know you’re the best) they look at you flustered? Guess who gets carried and thrown into the water

Uh oh they dragged you in the water? Guess I gotta splash them oh no they giggled fuck it summon and tsunami on them that’ll teach them a lesson right?

Crush is styling their hair? Why watch them when you can just do it yourself. Oh wow their hair is soft this is nice and calming. Oh no they are resting their head on my chest guess I gotta full on yank them into a new dimension

Oh got they are cuddling me? This is nice I can get used to this. Ah fuck they kissed my cheek?! B I T E T H E M >:)

Honey there are sooooo many more my brain REFUSES to stop making these fucking scenarios when I’m trying to sleep but honestly I’ll take the hit

ARE YOU KIDDING ME @kits-mania ,,,I- IM ABOUT TO HAND OVER MY ENTIRE BLOG TO YOU,,, YOU NEED AN AUDIENCE FOR THESE

like- that last one??? about the biting ?? are you kiDDING ME,,, BRAIN ROT BIG TIME

pls one of my very first posts was about how i just knew bakugou was a biter. and nobody had nothin’ to say about it then, but i’m so gLAD UR VALIDATING ME ABOUT IT RN

Like u cannot sit here and tell me he wouldn’t bite. he would, he does, it’s practically cannon. like imagine this right, y’all are all laid out on a couch, cute n domestic. for some reason, lighting struck n he decided to lay on top of you for once??? and you’re just sitting there petting his hair and saying nice things and it’s nice but its too much

too much softness and care and kindness and dude just bites in response. just latches onto your collarbone with his teeth before he can even think about stopping himself.

and shit like that will happen with him all the time. it’s daily chaos. like it’ll be quiet and soft and nice for all of two seconds, and then something in him just flares up and he freaks out. like he’ll stomp out of the room just to come back in two seconds later,,,, he’ll put his entire hand over your face because he can’t handle the way you look at him,,, and he’ll get up and take a lap around the room for seemingly no reason (read: you giggled at him and the sound made his heart beat so fast he felt like he had to move his feet to catch up with it)

and like, the best thing about him is i dont ever see him outgrowing that kinda thing. so while his reactions might lessen over time, you’ll still occasionally catch him starting to bounce his leg, so fast that it shakes the entire table like there’s an earthquake, and you’ll just know. can see from his body language alone that he loves you more than he can handle in that moment (which is very cute)

or or or hear me out on this one right

bakugou, on his own, generally stays away from doing stupid impulse things- but like, if ur next to him, telling him to “watch your step, there’s ice!” or “be careful, the pan’s hot” or “oh wow, this door is pretty heavy” bakugou’s brain is just a constant loop of “do it. do it coward. do exactly the opposite of what they said. don’t listen, it’ll be fine do it try it c’mon”

and he just- he’ll step directly on ice patches just because you told him not to. he’ll touch hot pans just because the childish impulse to disobey you is so strong. he’ll start ripping heavy doors off their hinges just to prove you wrong. and it’s dumb, it’s sooooo dumb, and he knows it too but he can’t fight the impulse!!!!!

[furukauruu-blog]

[starvels]

what are your favourite MCU and 616 stevetony moments? <3

<3 hi bee. this is a cute ask ty ! here are some!

MCU

in avengers 2012 when they work together post the scepter messing with them! i know its corny but 'it seems to run on some form of electricity' is so fucking funny to me, no joke. imagine u wake up from a 70 yr nap, everyone u know is dead or dying and someone's like take a look at this HIGHLY EVOLVED PIECE OF TECH and tell me what's going on. steve should have cussed a lot and that's my only critique of that. i love that tony doesn't rib him for it. just says 'you're not wrong' GOOD! as should.

any moment in the latter half of avengers 2012 tbh, but esp that one shot of steve's glove on tony's arc reactor i BURN for it ty

that moment (in one of those movies i haven't watched sorry i gave up after avengers) when tony is like you said we would lose together, WELL we did that and you weren't there and then dramatically faints and steve's like, but i slow ran to you, i broke everything between us and then gave u a flip-phone and the narrative finally takes tony's side abt how shitty it was lol

616

'you gave me a home.' canonical found family! damn!

too many quiet, little moments at 890 fifth to name. them searching each other out, them in meetings, them having rooftop or library talks, them learning each other and sharing intimacies. avengers v1, tales of suspense, etc

when steve is delighted and very easily okay with tony stark being iron man after all of tony's worrying abt not being enough as himself. also, tony's ID is revealed in a RED THONG lmfao. truly the bisexual disaster we all deserve

good morning, beloved <3

steve knowing all of tony's passcodes time and time again, being the only one with the lock and key to tony's existence.

confessions/civil war: casualties of war. i know i said u gave me a home already BUT the entirety of them. they're just gold. they're so good. they're so fucking sad. i weep so well

red zone cpr tony sacrificing himself for steve and then steve crawling through glass to pick up tony's prone body!! fuck me up! alright alright!!!!!

avengers ensemble moments where the entire emotional weight is hinged on steve and tony having a couple's spat and everyone around them talks about their love and calls them mom and dad lmfao

the illuminaughty meeting where steve says to tony 'be nicer, we've talked about this' sends something MIGHTY through my domestic, lovers-knowing-each-other bones. that's just...i want them to talk about themselves w each other

the bagel scene talking abt reforming the avengers and every other scene where they Know each other v casually and Believe in each other.

when they kill each other in infinity. the whole of infinity is wild garbage and as emo as the s/t focus there makes me, i think the coin of one was life and one was death is not accurate if you're only applying one or the other to each of them. i was talking w @oluka the other day about this but tony is the death->life cycle and steve is the life->death cycle. BUT ANYWAYS i'm mad emotional about the fact that when the entire multiverse was ending ALL S/T COULD THINK ABOUT WAS EACH OTHER. the fuck, bruh!! they chose to die in the streets fighting each other bc they mean more to each other than the multiverse ending. i cannot make this up.

anyways i need to STOP adding bullets at this point i'm just naming every moment skjndkbnkdjnb anyways those are some!!! lmfao!

i'll reblog some of these panels from cap-im for you later, too hehee

[jrueships]

I don’t want to judge…. but are you trying to tell us that your newest ship is…. Rolo??? …. and…. KRIS DUNN????

LiSTEN- LIStEN. OKAY-

aLSO WHY DO U SOUND MORE SURPRISED ABOUT DUN THAN KRIS HeLP??????? IM KIDDIN OF COURSE BUT LIKE- OKAY- listEN. it's not like- FINAL final (none of my insane rarepairs are of course like if marcus gets a fr on same team bf I won't be upset LOL all my rarepairs are just basically 'i like this player and this player so... what if.. boyfriends??') But LIKE... im still... CONSIDERING... CLOSELY- ... tho kris and lauri sounds cute too ngl their finnish speaking video (that had Greek music in the bg...) was funny!!

But i just think that

THIS is VERY interesting to me... and im always a sucker for more height difference relationships .... the way Kris doesn't even try stepping AWAY from Robin to smack trae??? He smacks him like he's hiding behind rolo???? Almost like a little kid cowering behind a teacher and only feeling confident enough to hold up a middle finger to his bully because he's got the teacher on his side now??? And the way rolo instantly wraps an arm around kris???????? ITS CUTE LISTEN.LISTEN-

But like??? Personality-wise (the main reason behind my rarepair madness) .. i just REALLY like two stubborn people in a relationship constantly trying to prove the other soft and then inadvertently falling in love with each other because of it.

I'm no astrology ho but APPARENTLY rolo's zodiac is Aries sun LIBRA moon like WOW. So he's like.. I DUNNO... baby... He's a team player but he also wants independence??? So he WANTS to be Different and stand out but hes just so Kind and complementary that he can't help But just fall in the flow??? Which he doesn't really want???? Which makes sense! He wants to be this big scary weird.. caveman and some THINK he is on the surface but really he's just a Disney loving NERD who LOVES superheroes!!!

And Kris is like.. Basically he's kinda eccentric and self-absorbed not in a prideful sense but he's just in his head alot ??? His personality can go from rigid and prickly to charming and open in like. A second. He's just weird like in the picture??? He'll high-five lopez and then remember that trae kinda elbowed him and just go attack mode without thinking twice ??? and it's surprising and that one action makes people think he's just some hot-tempered aggravator but two seconds later he's chill again???

IDK they're both so INTERESTING to me .. I feel like they both can help each other a lot ??? With their personalities ????? but in a fun to write way LOL. Dunn probably challenges rolo's tough guyness a lot; consequently, helping to bring out more of Rolo's soft side. And Rolo can understand Dunn's shifting nature, but also help keep him grounded a bit and out of trouble ?? BUT THEY DO IT THRU LIKE.. arguing and teasing and butting heads a bit because they both kinda pride themselves on being 'fierce'... and then later they resolve things and talk about them.... IDK IDK THIS MAKES SENSE TO ME IN MY HEAD- i KNOW rolo is... kinda ugly and Dunn is essentially 'dunn' (done) in the nba BUT LIKE. LISTEN- THEY THEM... GAY IDIOTS WHO CALL EACH OTHER IDIOTS BUT KNOW THE OTHER IS ACTUALLY REALLY SMART AND IS WILLING TO VOUCH TO THAT FACT ????? LISTENLISTEN.... there is just something ABOUT unexpected relationships ..... that goes BEYOND 'this one is nice and this once is not' like their relationship is COMPLICATED and WEIRD and they don't really know HOW or WHEN it started but it started and they just can't get off it !!!!!!

AND JUST IMAGINE THEM GOING ON A DISNEYLAND DATE ???? THEM B O T H TRYING TO SPIN THE HINGES OFF THE TEACUP RIDE ????? rolo convincing kris to lightsaber fight with him?? Dunn originally being like 'ugh this is so dorky dude' but it's only a short sigh to keep his dignity and he can't help But be charmed by rolo's infectious excitement AND by his OWN excitement ?? so they DUEL and it starts playful until dunn smacks rolo a little Too hard on the arm and then it gets SERIOUS. Idk they probably end up getting kicked out for scaring the children lol. Dunn has bruises and rolo has bloodied scratches. No more lightsaber fighting today :(

Rolo wants to buy a life sized stupid.. expensive soemthin idk like thanos cardboard cut out which Dunn says no to. Then Dunn goes and buys a ton of expensive ass weird candy so rolo rebels and buys the cardboard cut out anyways lol. When they get to the tram train whatever way home, rolo sleeps on dunn's lap using the thanos cutout as a blanket. Dunn keeps waking him up and giving him a concussion because he won't stop bouncing his leg tho from the sugar high. OVERALL... the date is went. It went. Yeah

[theredquilt]

For some reason I associate you with a picnic basket. Like the woven kind with hinged lids and a sheet inside to place the food on

This is c u t e (way too cute for me 😂)

[yourlocallosernamedgreenookie]

*MUFFLED SCREAMING*

[artificialqueens]

turn my touches into neon light (Vanessa x Monique) - Ortega

a/n: i quite simply have no excuse for this, quarantine is clearly making mincemeat of my head and i just don’t give a shit about what i submit anymore, apparently? this is part of the n19f verse and is set in between chapters 16 and 17 but it can be read standalone, there’s nothing really essential to the plot here. the title’s from Bitches (Remix) by Tove Lo bc it was the catalyst to my bisexual awakening xo. anyway if u liked this pls let me know bc this genre is not my strong suit and i would love a crumb of Believing In Myself. (smut. it’s smut.)

summary: Vanessa’s still reeling from Brooke breaking things off with her and she’s not over her yet. Monique is willing to be everything she needs in the meantime.

***

The fairy lights strung up in Monique’s room are soft and warm, her heavy red curtains drawn and shutting all the light out, not as if there’s much light to be let in in the first place. The small black alarm clock on her wooden IKEA bedside table reads 21.24, and Vanessa only arrived a few moments ago from the library after getting a message from Monique saying she’d just bought some good wine that was on offer and she had nobody to drink it with. Vanessa suspects this is a white lie- even though Cracker is out on a date with that Kameron girl she’s seeing and Monet is obviously round at Nina’s (and Brooke’s, she reminds herself with a stab to her heart), Bob’s still in and she could quite easily have shared the wine with her. But then again, Vanessa thinks, biting back a smile, Monique doesn’t have the same relationship with her flatmate as she does with Vanessa.

“Two glasses! I should’ve just brought two straws, but we can at least pretend we’re classy,” Monique announces, almost booting the door off its hinges as she stumbles into her bedroom holding two wine glasses in one hand, a corkscrew in the other, and balancing a bottle of red very precariously in the crook of her elbow. Vanessa laughs, a little thrill running down her spine as Monique’s brilliant white smile gets flashed her way. Her hair’s orange today, a bouncy slick of wavy flames that Vanessa already can’t wait to tear her fingers through, and her eyelids are covered in glitter that’s making her brown eyes sparkle even more than they normally do.

Vanessa watches as Monique launches herself down on the bed beside her, giving scant regard for the glasses in her hand. She places them onto the duvet then begins driving the corkscrew into the top of the bottle.

“Oh shit, this bitch has a cork! We are so classy this evening,” Vanessa murmurs her approval, Monique smiling smugly beside her.

“Bitch, I told you it was good wine! You ain’t believe me or somethin’?” she narrows her eyes, Vanessa protesting with a laugh. Monique gives a little satisfied cry of delight as the cork pops out of the bottle. She snatches up one of the glasses and sloshes the crimson liquid into it, so thick and red that they may as well be drinking blood. Vanessa smiles shyly as Monique passes the glass to her, thanking her as she takes a small sip. This is nice. The wine, the curtains, the twinkling lights. It’s the nicest non-date that Vanessa’s been on in a while.

“See I might be a hoe, but I can be a lady when I want to be,” Monique shrugs lightly as she swirls her own wine around in its glass before taking a long drink. Vanessa lets out a derisive snort.

“You’re not a hoe, shut up.”

Monique fixes Vanessa with a look that makes her melt a little bit. “Bitch, if you don’t think I’m a hoe by now then I’m clearly not doing my job right.”

Vanessa feels herself blushing. It’s out of character for her. She’s so used to being the one with the upper hand, the confident one who knows she can make girls do anything she wants. That’s what she was with Brooke Lynn, anyway. But Monique has this intoxicating mystery to her that keeps Vanessa on her toes, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy not being the one calling the shots all the time. Vanessa can’t help but flirt back a little. “Oh, so what is your job?"

"Making you forget about your bitch-ass ex girlfriend?” Monique gestures as if it’s obvious. Vanessa feels another small stab to her gut.

“She wasn’t a bitch, don’t be mean! She just…wanted something else,” she explains, sipping her wine again. She feels her heartbeat accelerate when Monique rests a hand on her thigh.

“Okay, how ‘bout I call her…weird? ‘Cuz if she didn’t want you then that’s weird behaviour,” Monique says matter-of-factly. Vanessa smiles bashfully. She likes being flattered like this, likes being told things she hasn’t heard in a while. Monique brings out a coy, demure side to Vanessa that very rarely gets seen. She is so used to being outspoken, loud, confident, on transmit constantly.

“You can call her weird, then,” Vanessa murmurs, her pitch low as Monique traces patterns across her skin. Vanessa is glad she wore the outfit she did to the library- short denim skirt, oversized red jumper tucked into the waistband of it. Briefly, it flashes through her mind to wonder what underwear she put on this morning. It’s not like her and Monique are together- far from it, they are the definition of friends with benefits- but if the girl’s going to make her come, the least she can do is look presentable for her.

“’M glad you came round,” Monique says quietly, leaning against her purple headboard. Her hair is a shock of orange against the violet fabric. The admission is too soft, hits too close to home. Vanessa doesn’t know if she likes it or if it breaks her heart a bit. It sounds too much like being wanted.

“You would’ve found someone else to sink this with. Bob’s in, isn’t she?” Vanessa argues, unable to accept the compliment.

Monique shrugs her disagreement, her fingers gentle against Vanessa’s skin. “She ain’t Vanessa, though.”

She feels something in her body fizz when she hears Monique say her name; the little lilt to her voice and the way she drags it out like it’s the most beautiful word in the world. Vanessa gives a small shiver as she feels a throb between her legs. She shoots Monique a little smirk. “Stop flirting, bitch.”

Monique shuffles closer, a satisfied look on her face that makes Vanessa feel like a fly caught in a web in the best way possible. “If a cute girl’s in my bed, I’m gonna flirt with her. Sorry. Just facts."

Vanessa wants to reach out and touch Monique, wants her hands all over her body like the other night. Monique’s very experienced, something else that renders Vanessa speechless whenever they sleep with each other. Tentatively, Vanessa replaces her wine glass on one of the bedside tables and rests her free hand on Monique’s hip. The black leggings she’s wearing don’t leave a huge amount to the imagination. Monique senses her hesitation and pouts at her mock-sympathetically. "You know you can touch if you want to, baby.”

Vanessa lets out a little sigh at the pet name, which in turn makes something flash in Monique’s eyes and she goes from stroking the outside of Vanessa’s thigh to the soft skin on the inside. Vanessa wordlessly spreads her legs, the heat between them almost unbearable, and she wonders how Monique can make her so desperate to be touched in so few words and tracings against her skin.

“You’re so easy, Jesus,” Monique teases, and Vanessa is aching to kiss the smirk off her face but loves the anticipation too much to burst the bubble yet.

“You love it,” she bites back quietly, snaking a hand underneath Monique’s cropped t shirt to stroke along her spine. She’s rewarded by Monique throwing one leg over the other, her eyes dark as she looks at her. Monique places her own glass on her bedside table, Vanessa giving a little laugh. “Shit, how long did that last? Five minutes?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know exactly why I wanted you round,” Monique retorts. Her hand strokes a little higher. Vanessa bucks her hips a little and Monique gives a little appreciative hum. “Damn. You’re so needy.”

“Be less needy if you weren’t such a tease,” Vanessa is ready with her comeback, Monique biting her lip and smiling as the frustration starts to show a little in Vanessa’s voice.

“I’m not teasin’, you’re just impatient,” Monique shrugs, Vanessa almost crying out in desperation as she pulls away. She’s rewarded when Monique grabs the hem of her top and pulls it over her head to reveal a red lace bralet that Vanessa hasn’t seen her wear before. The colour pops against her dark skin and Vanessa is torn between not taking her eyes off her in it or trying to tear it off her. Monique sees her reaction and replaces her hand between her legs, Vanessa giving a little sigh of anticipation as she speaks. “You like this?”

Vanessa simply nods, too scared that if she replies she’ll end up begging Monique to touch her, so she bites her lip instead. Monique gives a little smirk, takes her hand away again and quickly rips off her leggings to reveal matching red underwear, the top of which curves upwards to expose her hipbones and sits high near her waist. The whole thing makes Vanessa feel like she’s having a heart attack; she can feel her pulse racing. Unable to help herself, Vanessa reaches out, loops a finger under the elastic of the waistband and uses it to pull Monique in to kiss her. When their lips touch, Vanessa has to stop herself from letting out a moan. Monique kisses slowly and unrelentingly, completely ignoring Vanessa’s attempts to speed things up, and when she slides her tongue over Vanessa’s it reminds her of what it can do. Everything is hot and wet and languid and Vanessa can feel herself getting worked up. At this rate it’s not going to take a lot for Monique to make her come apart.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Monique murmurs against her lips, and Vanessa whines like a brat as she tries to grind down against her fingers. Monique smiles smugly at the action, kissing her deeply. Vanessa runs a light hand up and down her back, letting her nails graze her skin slightly because she knows it drives Monique wild. As Monique hums her appreciation against her mouth, Vanessa can’t take it any longer and she throws a leg over Monique’s so that she’s straddling her. The sudden friction almost makes Vanessa’s eyes roll into the back of her head and judging by the expression on Monique’s face her reaction was well received. Vanessa bites back a whimper as Monique drops her lips down to her neck, kissing it slowly once and then a second time.

“You’re the most beautiful fuckin’ girl I’ve ever met, oh my God. I wish you could see yourself right now,” Monique whispers into her ear. Vanessa moans, can feel how wet she is through the fabric of her underwear against Monique’s bare skin, and she blushes as she realises she’s not going to last much longer if Monique keeps talking to her like this. As if she reads her mind, Monique keeps whispering. “I was so gutted when we met at that party because you were seeing that girl, and all I wanted to do was to get you into my room and make you beg for it…you were wearin’ that black satin body and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you for days…”

Vanessa tilts her head to meet Monique’s lips, brings her jaw up to kiss her messily. As if to fulfil the fantasy Monique’s just told her about, Vanessa breaks away and whispers frantically. “Please, babygirl, please, please, please.”

“What do you want, princess?”

Vanessa is close and the pet name isn’t helping. She lets out a gasp as she bucks her hips, realises Monique’s touching herself with her free hand while the other is ripping out the hem of Vanessa’s sweater where it’s tucked into the waistband of her skirt. “Keep talking, fuck.”

“You want me to tell you how pretty you look, baby? You want me to tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look gettin’ yourself off against my thigh like a desperate lil’ brat?” Monique taunts her, Vanessa giving a squeal as Monique dips her fingers under the cup of her bra and brushes her fingers against one of her nipples. “You’ve not even taken your clothes off and you’re this wound up, fuck, you’re so wet and I’ve not touched you…”

Vanessa’s senses are in overload. Her hair is all in her face, Monique’s still teasing her nipples, and she can feel herself slick against Monique’s skin as she grinds against her thigh. Her clit is throbbing so much she feels like she’s going to explode. “M'nique, I’m gonna…fuck…”

“Go, baby. Do it,” Monique whispers. Her voice is low and sinful and she’s barely whispered her permission before Vanessa is crying out embarrassingly loudly, completely unable to control herself but not able to bring herself to care as she gives another, slightly quieter cry then a tiny squeal as she feels herself shudder, coming down from the high. She’s blushing as she kisses Monique, the other girl smiling against her lips, and Vanessa realises she’s still touching herself. She leans back and smiles, gasping a little and trying to collect herself.

“Shit,” is the first thought she can verbalise, causing Monique to laugh out loud. “That escalated fast.”

Monique nods, smiling guiltily. Vanessa looks at her spread out on the bed; hand down her pants, chest rising and falling quickly, hair spread out against the pillow, and the sheen Vanessa left against her thigh. The sight is enough to make Vanessa run her tongue over her lips slightly.

“You still want me, baby?” she murmurs quietly, Monique pouting and nodding again, a little needy sigh escaping her full lips. Vanessa tugs her sweater over her head, pulls her skirt over her ankles and tosses it onto the floor. She sits up and pats her lap gently. “C'mere."

Monique obediently crawls over to her, sits on her lap and kisses her as Vanessa threads her hands through her long, orange hair.

It’s nice to feel wanted.

[fnafimagines]

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 (𝐅𝐍𝐀𝐅 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑)

C H A P T E R  O N E

What is this fanfic about?

(Your Name) (Last Name) is a prodigy detective in a small town in Maine. She is assigned to a cold case that is more than 20 years old.  The details of the case are minuscule. Residents pass superstitions around like wildfire.

She assigned to the night watch at the pizzeria. What will she find? But more importantly, what is the truth?

Want to read more?

Wattpad or Quotev

The intern rapped his hands against the firmly-polished mahogany door. His hands combed through his swooped blonde hair as he heard a soft voice say, “Come in.”

He opened the door, wincing at the slight squeak the hinges gave. His stance relaxed as he saw the woman give him a kind smile. “What can I help you with, Phillip?”

“Well, Ms. (Last Name), we have another case we need you to work on,” He stated firmly.

“Okay, show me what’ cha got,” She chided. Her bright (e/c) eyes dimed as a thin case file was slammed on the desk. She lifted one of the folds only to find a maximum of three pages hidden underneath. She sat straight up as she looked at the intern.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Phillip.” The blonde man straightened his stature as he looked at the woman. Her demeanor had turned cold, her expression turned sour. He was completely knowledgeable of her slight no-shit attitude.

She just sighed as Phillip stayed there, more frozen than Antarctica in winter. She was completely done with being undermined in this department. She had skills, but they had always set her up to fail. 'I am a prodigy, damn it!'

She looked up at the boy and groaned. “What’s the mission?”

He straightened. “You’ll be a night watchman at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. You need to find out why all these nightguards are disappearing.” His voice became strained as he looked at her. Her face was pale and her body stiffened. Everyone had heard about the rumors around that place. It was enough to make the prodigy detective shrink in her seat.

“You. Want me. To go there. With no backup?” At this point, she had gotten out of her chair and had backed him into the wall. He shakily nodded his head.

“U-Unless you don’t want to.” He stuttered. She just sighed and shook her head.

“Don't’ worry about it. I’ll handle this.” She walked over to the coat-rack next to the door. She grabbed her coat and hat and put her hand on the doorknob. Pausing, she turned back to look at the intern, one hand on the knob, the other gripping tightly to the file.

“Make sure they know I’m doing this. Alone.” The intern winced as the door slammed shut.

You shivered as you walked back to your apartment, your coat tightly wrapped around you. Your mood turned even more sour than before, as you had forgotten your knitted hat at home. The hat you were wearing was only for fashion-sake.

You looked in a frozen puddle on the ground.

“I even look like a detective! Why can’t they see that?” You stomped, making the puddle shatter into a mixture of beautiful shards. You could see multiple of you as your face burned in anger. You started to speedwalk home. You looked down at the case file. 'I wonder what’s in this thing?'

You walked into the lobby, being looked at by strangers and neighbors as you walked into the elevator. You didn’t blame them, though. You looked like a wet cat. You pressed the button for your floor, but then noticed a tall, older man standing next to you.

He had scruffy brown hair and some stubble growing on his face. He stood a little too close for comfort to you, despite there being ample room in the elevator.

“What floor are you going to?” You asked politely.

“Number 23,” He responded. You pressed the corresponding button and then moved slightly away from him. He chuckled, seemingly noticing your discomfort but doing nothing to erase the tension. Instead, he decided to engage in a bit of small talk.

“My name is David Miller. How about you ma'am?” He asked politely. You smiled uncomfortably.

“My name is (Your Name) (Last Name). Are you new here? I’ve never seen you around.” You asked.

“I am indeed new here, ma'am. Just moved here from the next town over.” He adjusted his sleeve cuffs absentmindedly.

“Oh! What do you do?” You said, your smile becoming a bit more genuine.

“I’m a technician at a pizzeria. You might have heard of it. It’s Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” You froze. ‘I could be talking to a suspect!’ You instantly went into detective mode.

“Really? That place is pretty creepy. Don't you think?” He just chuckles.

“It is, but you get used to it. Now, what do you do?” You adjusted your coat as you cleared your throat.

“Well, I got fired from my last job and am looking for another one.” You lied. He just looked at you and gave a slightly creepy smile.

“Well, we do have an open position at the restaurant.” You made a fake excited grin.

“Really! What is it?” You chuckled. “I’m kind of desperate for a job if you didn’t notice.”

“It’s the nightshift. Kind of perfect if you ask me. You get to watch over the robots for a few hours at night and then have the whole rest of the day to yourself. It must be magnificent.”

“Whoa, that sounds perfect. I usually want to spend the day with my friends anyways. That’s actually where I’m going! I’m visiting a friend of mine, Alex. He lives here.” You lied.

Alex was your neighbor and a good friend of yours. He was intelligent but could be slightly wimpy. You slyly smirked to yourself. You honestly didn’t want Dave to know that you lived here.

“Ooo! A boyfriend, perhaps?” Your face turned scarlet as the man chuckled.

“No way! I mean, he’s cute and all, but not my type.” Dave chuckled.

You both were interrupted by a chime, signalizing that it had hit your floor. You turned to Dave and gave him a polite smile.

“Here’s my stop! I’ll see you around!” You stepped out and gave a friendly wave.

“Of course, ma’am.” You turned around and the elevator closed. When he knew you weren’t looking Dave gave a horrific grin.

“Foolish girl.”

You couldn’t believe you might have gotten a lead suspect already. Dave was creepy and not good at hiding his serial-killer esque personality. You had a feeling he might be behind this whole 'nightguard going missing' situation but weren’t one-hundred percent sure.

But you knew you could get the job easier. Maybe the man could even assist you. You took out your keys, finally recognizing the headache you had from the cold weather. You’d have to take some medicine for that later.

You opened the door and hung up your hat and coat, only to find a furry friend nuzzle your feet. You looked down and smiled.

“Hello, Milo.” You smiled down at your tabby cat. He nuzzled into your leg as you grabbed him and brought him up to your face and smiled.

“Did you miss me?” He meowed in response, jumping from your hands to the top of your head, where he curled up into a ball. You chuckled and walked into the kitchen to get yourself some water. You struggled to reach the glass cups in the cupboard and decided to just go for one of the plastic ones in the drawer. ‘Why do the cupboards have to be made for tall people!’

You walked over to your cabinet to look around for the ibuprofen, sighing and just closing the cabinet, only to find the ibuprofen on the counter. ‘Okay, first the cupboards. And now my damn medicine is bouncing around like the Annabelle doll!’

You popped the child-safety cap off of the container and poured some tablets into your hand, accidentally getting too many. You put all but two back and then swallowed them, instantly washing the dryness down with a cold cup of water.

You walked through the hallway to get to your dainty little bedroom, ignoring the creaks in the floorboards as you observed some of the pictures on the wall that your parents had sent you one lonely weekend. You remember that you still had most of the older photos in the closet, basically just dumping them there until you got the time to sort through them all.

‘I’ll go through them after this whole Fazbear business is done,’ you decided to yourself. You walked into your room, covering your ears as your door slammed against the wall. You groaned. You jumped onto your bed, cozying up into the comforter. ‘Yeah, I should probably take a shower.’

Your eyes squinted as you opened the call app on your cell phone. Your phone shined as you went to turn down the brightness.

You looked at the number you had to enter. ‘1-888-FAZ-FAZBEAR.’ You slightly hesitated before you finally pressed the call button. Your heart pounded faster as the phone rang out in your silent, empty apartment. Milo nuzzled into your leg as you sat crisscrossed on the couch. You rubbed your temples as you put a pair of reading glasses on. The frames were black, a staple fashion piece if you had to say so yourself. They gave you an intelligent and cunning look.

You were interrupted from your thoughts by another voice coming out from the other line.

“This is Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. How may I help you?” a sweet older woman asked.

You got out your notepad and pen and started jotting down about this woman. ‘Maybe another suspect.’

“Hi! My name is (Your Name) (Last Name). I’m was looking at the open position that you guys have online. The night shift, I think it was?” You said kindly.

The woman seemed to pause as her voice turned to a whisper. “Are you sure you want to do that, sweet pea? The night shift doesn't seem like a job for such a sweet-sounding young lady.” You internally scoffed at the seemingly sexist remark, but you knew she was just being polite, so you put on your sweetest voice.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I can handle it!” You heard her sigh.

“Okay, I’ll get you an appointment with my husband.”

‘Oh shit!’ You weren’t just talking to anyone. This was Dorothy Emily, the owner’s wife.

Your voice practically grew three times sweeter. “That would be amazing, ma’am! Thank you so much. “ You could practically picture her frown.

“No problem, dear... How’s tomorrow at 10?” Your grin grew wide.

“Perfect! Thank you again.” You were about to cheer.

“Goodbye… dear.” The line hung up as you dialed down your cheer, your face contorting from happiness and excitement into a look of terror. ‘Why did that sound so… ominous?'

You brushed it off as you looked down at the kitten sleeping in your lap. You kindly smiled and pet his fur, hearing an almost silent purr come from the content kitten. You then looked up at the tons of papers and notes you had compiled about the case. One, in particular, sparked your interest. It was a fairly old newspaper, but its words spoke volumes about what you could be going up against.

“Kids vanish at local pizzeria – bodies not found. Two local children were reportedly lured into a back room during the late hours of operation at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza on the night of June 26th. While video surveillance identified the man responsibly and led to his capture the following morning, the children themselves were never found and are presumed dead. “

“Police think that the suspect dressed as a company mascot to earn the children’s trust.”

“Five children now reported missing. Suspect convicted. Five children are now linked to the incident at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, where a man dressed as a cartoon mascot lured then into a back room. While the suspect has been charged, the bodies themselves were never found. Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza has been fighting an uphill battle ever since to convince families to return to the pizzeria. ‘It’s a tragedy.’”

“Local pizzeria threatened with shutdown over sanitation. Local pizzeria, Freddy-Fazbear’s Pizza has been threatened again with shutdown by the health department over reports of a foul odor coming from the much-loved animal mascots.

Police were contacted when parents reportedly noticed what appeared to be blood and mucus around the eyes and mouths of the mascots. One parent likened them to ‘reanimated carcasses’.”

“Local pizzeria said to close by years end. After a long struggle to stay in business after the tragedy that took place there many years ago, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza has announced that it will close by year’s end. Despite a year-long search for a buyer, companies seem unwilling to be associated with the company. ‘These characters will live on. In the hearts of kids - these characters will live on.’ -CEO”

Either the pizzeria never closed, or it had a reopening. But this was suspicious for several reasons. First of all, you had looked through there code and saw that they would clean up to the premise of a crime scene before police got there. That was probably why they put you on the case. ‘They probably put me on the case because of my prodigy skills.’

Okay, okay now. Stop being cocky. You would have to see what all of this was about at your shift. You looked down at the sleeping cat. ‘Tomorrow.’

You grabbed a soft knitted blue blanket and finally, after a long day of paperwork fell asleep.

[yastaghr]

Geno Run Exiles

Summary: Continuation of my Sanster Week 2017 (that I have been working on since 2017). Underfell Sanster fluff with being on the Surface for the first time.

Relationship: Fell Sanster, Sans/Gaster

Warnings: Mentioned genocide run

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24594760

The goopy monster, formerly known as Gaster and newly dubbed Trip, closed the door with a decided click. As much as he appreciated this other Toriel’s help, he really was capable of dealing with this problem by himself. He was a doctor, a medical one. He might not be able to do things as fast as her healing magic could, but he’d get there in the end. He didn’t need or want to be reliant on someone else’s help. You never knew what the price would be.

Like this apartment, for example. He’d expected to be dumped into the worst suite in the building, or worse, out on the street. Instead he was in this place. This place, with its leather furniture and brand new tv. This place, with its stainless steel appliances and double oven. This place, with it’s sleek wooden table and chairs. This place, with framed art on the walls. This place, with a jetted tub and two shower heads. This place, with its two bedrooms and a balcony big enough for another dining set and a telescope. This place, with it’s amazing view of the river and a park full of trees. This place...this place was so far above what he had imagined it was outside the solar system.

Trip shuddered. He hoped that whatever these new monsters demanded on him wouldn’t be too hard on him or Sans- no. That wasn’t his name anymore. Just like he was now named Trip, his Sans was now Kiks. It was the others’ universe after all. They deserved to be able to keep their names, no matter what the other Sans had said.

Speaking of Sans...er, Kiks, he should go and check on the other. Her Majesty had said it would be a while before his boyfriend woke up. Maybe yes, maybe no. Either way, Trip did not want the other to wake up alone. So he slowly oozed his way into the first bedroom.

The bedroom was just as well appointed as the main room. A king bed with an ultra-soft blanket and plush mattress stood in the center. A walk-in closet stood empty on one side. Two nightstands with beautiful lights whose bases were in the shape of conch shells lit the room in a soft glow. The comforter was patterned with curves of color; blues, tans, and light pinks gave the overall effect of a beach scene. He wondered if the sea was nearby. That would be nice.

Beneath the comforter and the blanket was Kiks. He was out cold. Her Majesty had removed most of his layers, so all that was visible above the blankets was his red sweater and spiked collar. The sight of it made Trip happy. His matching one was tucked safely in his inventory.

Trip planted a loving kiss on Kiks’ head and settled into the bed next to him. He didn’t lie down, just perched on the side of the bed and looked towards the foot of it. Beyond it, in the wall, was a window to the outside world. At the moment it was shut to keep the rain cascading down its surface out. Trip decided to fix that. He got back off the bed and oozed over to the window. He unlatched the bottom and started spinning the little lever that extended the brace. The window opened upwards since its hinges were at the top.

The sound of heavy rain hitting a window pane was one Trip had never thought he would hear again. It soothed him, just like it had done when he was a child. He went over and sat down on the edge of the bed. Soon, he laid back. A little relaxation wouldn’t do him any harm, right? And neither would laying flat. He was just enjoying the softness. Just… enjoying… the… rest…

=====

Trip startled awake. Someone was touching him, and in his world even letting someone close enough to touch him basically meant you were dead. He looked around, magic coming to his aid in a desperate burst. Then he saw who it was and all of that went away.

Kiks smiled at him. He was sitting up in bed, with his hand outstretched towards Trip. There were tear tracks on his maxillae, but no actual tears. They had dried up.

“if this is a dream, i don’t wanna wake up,” Kiks whispered hoarsely.

Trip smiled widely back at his boyfriend. His voice still sounded high and smokey, just like Trip had remembered. It was so nice to hear him again. Trip went to speak, but then changed his mind and signed, -I don’t think it’s a dream. It’s been too weird for even the worst of dreams.-

Kiks held out his hands imperiously. “hug first. story later.”

Trip smiled even wider. Yep, this was his boyfriend. He surrendered to the hug happily. They cuddled like that for a few minutes. Every time one of them went to leave the hug the other squeezed. Eventually they both pulled back.

��so, tell me about all this weirdness you were talking about.”

Trip did so, signing to Kiks about tripping over a safety railing on his way to work one day, about falling into the void, about the desperate loneliness of waiting in a place that was nothing for something, anything, to happen. He told him about Kiks showing up on the edge of death.

“before you go on, lemme tell you about what happened to me. i was hanging out at my sentry station - i’ve been a sentry pretty much ever since you fell - when a really loud scraping sound came from over by the big door. i went to check it out, and there was this human. well, not exactly a human. it was like something insane was wearing a human’s skin. also a lot of dust. and that wasn’t the end of the dust.”

“they, uh, pretty much decimated the underground. they didn’t just dust everyone in their path. they searched everywhere for even more monsters to dust. the only reason they didn’t get everyone...well, pap distracted them at the edge of snowdin. people got to the lab and hid in the basement. he, uh, wasn’t one of them. i was watching. they dusted him, and then they took his dust, swallowed some of it, and kicked the rest into the river.”

“needless to say, that hit me kinda hard. it pissed me off. by the time i’d stopped being in shock, they were all the way through hotland. i set a trap for them in the judgement hall and waited. the trap...didn’t work. they almost killed me just like they’d killed everyone else. but i couldn’t stand to let them have my dust. so i, uh, kinda teleported into the core?”

“i must have passed out, because the next thing i knew i was waking up in this creepily comfortable bed next to you. this definitely isn’t in the underground i know, so, uh, mind filling me in on the rest?”

Trip signed to him about the void suddenly giving way to his floating body. He told him about the door appearing out of nowhere, and how, eventually, he had braved his way out, Kiks in hand. He told him about the other Sans, Toriel, Undyne - all the other monsters. He told him about the healing, about their new names, and, finally-

“wait. are you seriously trying to tell me we’re on the surface here? that’s...way too good to be true, g.uh, trip.”

-It’s true,- Trip signed with a smile, -I made them take me outside to check. We have a balcony here we can safely go out on. It’s enclosed on both sides and several stories up. Do you want to?-

Kiks leveled a look at him. “trip, are you seriously asking me if i want to see the surface? of course i do!” He pushed himself upright. Trip caught him before he could fall. He had been seriously injured. It wasn’t surprising that he would take a while to recover. “um...might have a problem here, trip. trip? trip, stop laughing at me!”

-I’m not,- Trip signed quickly, fitting it in between belly-shaking, glitched-sounding laughs, -I’m just laughing at myself. I should have known it wouldn’t be possible for you to walk just yet. Do you mind if I...carry you?-

The other skeleton bonked Trip’s forehead. “you’re not omniscient, dumbass. just pick me up and take me out already!”

Trip obliged, scooping his lover up in a comfortable embrace and slowly oozing over to the balcony. Kiks operated the handle and sighed when he saw the view outside. It was a beautiful, green park that stretched for miles. Trees of all sorts were scattered around a creek. Children were laughing and playing in the wet grass. Their voices floated up to Trip and Kiks, then floated further up into the colorful sky. Sunset was just beginning, and it was gorgeous.

Kiks didn’t breathe for a solid ten minutes while he took everything in. As skeletons they didn’t strictly need to breathe, but it was still a good habit. Trip was starting to get worried when Kiks let out a wild whoop and hugged Trip around the neck tight.

“it’s the surface! doc, doc! there’s clouds and everything! i didn’t know that the sky got this colorful. what’s it called?”

Trip smiled and set Kiks down in one of the chairs so he could talk. -It’s called a sunset. S-U-N-S-E-T. It’s caused by the light rays from the sun hitting the atmosphere at certain angles. These angles, when coupled with the crystalline nature of the upper atmosphere, create a rainbow of color. This color is always present at some arc in the sphere of the globe, but is constantly moving and changing in shade. There is a similar, although not identical, phenomenon known as sunrise. S-U-N-R-I-S-E. It happens on the other edge of night and day.-

Kiks smiled softly at him, his head in his hands. “you know you're really cute when you get all nerdy on me, doc?”

Trip blushed at that and coughed. Then he signed in a flippant way, -I’m just answering your question, Kiks.-

Kiks’ smile spread into a wide grin. “yeah, right, and i’m the queen of the underground. queen of the surface? what’s this toriel like, anyway? i know the one back home had a wicked sense of humor and a love of dust pie.”

-This one seems to be very much in everyone else’s business. I don’t know about her sense of humor, but it was hard to convince her to leave you to me. She’s one of those bossy healers who thinks magic is a substitute for time. You know how I feel about them,- Trip said with a shrug.

Kiks cocky grin was a relief for Trip to see. He’d always loved his boyfriend’s sense of humor. “do you want me to start planning a prank?”

Trip nodded, letting his own face split into a savage grin. -Oh, yes. Nothing too bloody, they seem to be very peaceful here, but she definitely deserves to get dunked on. Also, try not to let it trace back to you. I don’t know what the price for this apartment is going to be yet, and I really don’t want them adding onto it.-

Kiks cocky grin vanished. “fuck, trip, we’ve been through this. not everyone is like that. i’m not, my brother’s not, and i’m pretty sure that these people aren’t, either. if they are, well, we’ll deal with it. but try not to worry about it in the meantime. you’ll just get stressed.”

Trip sighed. -I know, I know, I just…-

Kiks stuck his tongue out at him. “no justs, just wills. you will put it out of your mind and explain those weird light things in the sky now. Are those buildings in sky?”

Trip looked up sharply. There, in the darkening sky, were the stars. He smiled and began to sign. -Those are the stars I’ve told you about so much, Kiks! Stars and planets, too. A planet is…-

[youjustgotzizes]

The drawer 🗄️

[ Quinn Fabray wasn’t coming, wich means Lauren had more time to keep searching. She keeps finding an absurd huge amount of candles everywhere, making her wonder if it was for magic rituals or the electric system was just this awful on Cooper’s world. On these days, the only things semi interesting she found a little cute pocket mirror Mariam seems to fancy, a really closed drawer, and the screaming book she couldn’t get out the bookshelf.]

[Lauren keep looking at the closed drawer. She tried to keep opening it and her hands just keep getting burn. It was a good security system. But it was time to break it.] 

“Mariam, roomates have to pay rent. If you aren’t going to, do something useful and open the drawer.” [Lauren orderer, pointing at the drawer. Miriam keeps staring at her, whispering.]

̧̫̦̙I̜̪̟͈̕ ̡ͅc̯͕͝ạ̕n͔̝'͚̗͔͎͜t̞͙ ̴̖d͉̭͚̠̻ͅo͏̮̯̟͖̘͎͕ ̝̝͎͔̪̦i͚̤t ͘I̶̱̙̤ͅ ̖c͏̠̱̻a̠̯͙̥̠ņ͙̩̬'t̝̟͡ͅ ̨̪͙dó͕̳̺ͅ ̥̦͞i̪͎̻͇̣t̘̠̩̯̦̼ ̸̻̤I̴͈͙͓̳ ͔̗̬͡c̼͚a̮̰͇̺͚n҉̹͕̦͚̫̳̻'͖t͓͍̝ ͈̙͕̩͙͙ḏ̪̝̹͎̰o̝̞̻͈͍ͅ i̲̙̦̙t̺͞ ͔̰̘̟I̦ c͢a͞n̯̩͚̣͓͙̺'͚̼͚͍̬̺t̠̪̦́ ̣͚̖͖̦̤͖do̮͓̤̗ ̲̹̳̦͉i͎̦͓̗ṭ̪ ̴̬̫͔̪̝̞ ̡̭̤̼̙͓͉̫I͍̙̻̭̤̞̩͘ ̫c͜a͔̩͚̰n̪̙'͎͈͉͔t͇̩̲̳̀ ̮͈̹̜d̯o̳͎͖̮ ̸̝i̥̩͍̱̫͜t̸̥̰̪̣̥̤̩ ̸̣͓̘̩̜̭I̥͈̠̣̰ ̥̻̩͇̯͕c̨̰̻͇̹̰a̬̫̩n͏̯͈͎'͎͙̟͓͉̙t̰̰͔̣̭̙ ̮͚̮̳̞͍͙d̦͔͘o ̠͓̣̣͍i̲͔t̞̙̺͖̟ I̦ ͎̘ca̸͔n͚̣͎̞̙͠'̝͓ț̴̜̪̫̬̺͔ ̷̻̖̳̝̤͍ͅḏ̰̤̜͈̮o̴̦͈̦͎͚̭ ͉̝̪i̢̮̬̼̮t͉̹ ̜͢Ì͖ ̷͖͇̥c҉̜͈̟a͕̻̱̼͖͓n̨͙̺'̸̹t̰̱̞ ͕̰̣d̼̜̖͍͔̫o̡̗͉̖͖̖̱ ͟i̙͚̺̮̞t̯͓̭ ̮̲ ̶̱͍͖I̺͔͇ͅ ̧̗̮͓̘̠͍c̮̖͚̟͚̳a͕͇̱̙ń̬'̗̮͇̦̦͕͈t̞ ̝̠̱̺͔͈d̥̤̳̯͙o̧͚̙͓ ҉͇̩̰͈i̸̳̮̯̫t̩̼̼͖͎ ̫͕̳͍͍I͏̳̦͙̠̠ ͓͓͎̙̠͇̤͢c̗̤̘a̦͚̼̣͙̣̭̕n̟̪̣͞'̙̜̻̥t̸̩͎̳̹̦ ̙̗͇͔̱d҉̻ͅo̲̭̩ ̯̖̮̪̖ͅi̬t͖̫̠̮͍ ͏̥̫̞͔͎Ị̴͎͉͓ͅ ̝̰̣͍̟̰͘c̤͖̗͞a̸͈̰͇̜n̫'̦̪̟͚t̜͍̘͚̮̯ ̟̱͉͇d͓̱̗͖̹̕o̘ ̶͚i̻̣̹͕͘t̲͟ ̶I̻̬̲̙ ͚̣́c͔̺͇̤̀a̺͖͕͚̹n̼̻̱͟'̫t̷͕͚͍̫ͅ ̪d̥̮̗̪̖̩ͅo̝͔ ̥̺̩̮̦͜i̪͜ṱ͍̮͙ ̸̯̯̼̺̰͚̲I ̢̲̻̯ç̬͖̫̱̝͖ͅa҉̖͍̪̦̤̤̯n'̨͎͖͈̼t ̵d̝̺̫͇̻o͈̥͓̣ ̲̗̯͇̰̦̘i͓͞t̮̘̻͕̀ ̫̬̖̣I͈͔̖̭̳̤͚ c̢̖̲a̬͉͉ǹ͉̪̳̠'̦͚̰͕̣̤̕ṭ̻̠ ͖͔̞̯̞̠̤d͏͓̩͚͍̰o̟̤̯̹̝͕͇ ̟̻i͚̬̹̝̱̙̜t̛ ̩̩̫̱̜̞I̬̹̮̥͇͠ ̙̖c̫̤͈͇͕a͍̼̝̘̘n̸͉̳̫'̧̭̜̩͇̞̺͔t͔͍͉̺̗̱ ̹̪̳̞̺̙d҉͕̟̘o̬̦̜ͅ ͕̱i̛t̗͚̜̳̠̘̣ ̛Į͎͖͇ ̪͡c̗͟a͖͓̯͍̮̥n̻̩̣͢'̢̩̞̜̯t̴̹̳̲̹ ̤̝̖͇d͍̳̗ó̜ ̞̤̩̞̞͟i̴t̘̠ ͏̪̙̺ ̻͉̙͇̦͇ͅI̴̯̥ ̬̻̣̦͈c̫͈̮͙̙̀a̛̬̺n'̬̣͘t̰̜̱̜̖̼̩ ̗̼̗̺̩͍͔͞d͕̗̣̗ͅo̙̝͎̤̪̲̩͞ ͓i̪̖͙͔͝t̶ ͔͕̣͉I̟͙ ̡̫͓̹̼̗̝c̻̳̣̠͔̠̳an̞̣'̜̥t̗͍͙͎ ҉̝͈̹d̞͖̬̝̩̖̝͡o͎̘̩͖̝̗̮ ͙͔i̲̗͙̗t̬͚̝ ̺̺͟ͅÍ̠̘ ̰̯c͏̩̺̺̗͕̥̦ạ̭̩n̦͔'̧̻ţ͚͇ ̱̜̫̳̰̖̩́d̯̦̜͢ó͔ ̭͚̜́í̯̙̟̣̙̞̱t̰͠ ͙͈̝̠̀I̜ ̡̹̪̗c̩̤͙͓̤ą̱͕n̲̥̺̠͚̹̥͠'̴͕̱t͔͜ ̶̼̮̣̹͔ḏ͚̯͚̞͜o̖̹̭͓̕ ͇͓̳͔̲̯͘įt̟̰̰ ̻̗ ͕͘I̝͇ ̢c͓̦a̩̞͚̹̰͜ͅn͖̟̳̬͓̲̞'̮̻͎̙̱͔͞t̨̺̦ ҉͇̞͍d̮̟͕o̞̼͙͉̬̝͍ ̥̩̦̰͓i͉̙t̡ ̹̳͉͍̱͉I̸ c̶̮͔̮a̪̦͢n̯'̫͓̦̮̥t̬͈ ̰̱̘ͅd̦͞��̘̖̪̜͚o̧͉̘̺ ̢̘̺̦i͇̬̟̪t̫̳͙ I̘͈̰̦ͅ ̭̞̹̘͢ca̟͍̲n̷̼̮̰'̘̰̘̭͓͟t҉ ̸̩d̸͙̞̮͎o ͚̖͕̭͙i̜͕̭̞̰t͇̜̟͇ ̷̹̖̠͎̼̠I̘̰̞̦͔̙͘ ̭͢c̬͖̩̺͖̞̥͜a͈̭n̲̮̘͈'̨̻͔̱̪t̲̟̹̮̻͞ ͖̠̗͝d͓̩͇͍̰͔o̷̜̺͎̟̮̤ ̷̦̖̘i̹͍͖͉͟t̬͔̝ ̙̜͇̺͕̜ͅ ̹͙͖ͅI͔̲̪̺ ̟̦̱̪̀c҉̥̩͖̼̤͉͉a̜͚̺̘̟n͕͍'t̼̖̖ ͖̀d̗̯o҉ ͕̳̼͍̘̳ì͕͔̝̟͓t͍̺͚̟ͅ ͘I҉ ̢̤̮͈̹͚ca̻̤̝̮͕̩̳n̮͙̫̙'͍͔̼̗̩͉t̫͉͙̘̬̖̯͡ ͏̫̲ḑ͎̼̘̠ͅo̙̘ ̸i̱̕t̞̫ ҉̺̼̜̻̙̯I̮̦̙̪̭ ̹̻̤c͞a̩͈͖̹̭ń͕̹̝͔̜̯̩'̭̖͟t̰̰̱̖̱ ̮͍͓̲̘̻͘d̢̻o̱͇̘͎̹ ҉̜͓i̟͈͉̭͎̕ͅt̮͓͍͕̫̼͙ ͈̟̩̳͕̣I̬̖͓ ͏͙͔̪̮c̺̣̣̮̤̭͡a̦̱̮ͅṋ̝̱'͏͈t͓̳̫̠͉̳̯͡ ̠͖͓ͅdo̷̦̭̩̻̱̲ i̠̼̙̻t͍̭͇́ ͏͓͈͚̖͔ ̪͚̜̟̪̘I̷̱͍̩̻ ̯͉̼̤̖̥͘c̫̱͝a̬̗̰̖̗̪̞n̦͚̼̫̥̮'͔̲͖̫̬t͕̱ ̦̯̠͞d̡͖o҉̻͕̦ i̗̖ͅt̪̝̘͎̤̹ ̰͔̜̦̣I̼̝̙̖͍͡ ̩̖͖̜̠̘̠c̬͓͚̣̙a̴̳̝͕̮n̢͚͉̹͇̙͙'̷͇͎͈̯͚t̼̦̹͕ ̤̬͉͔͔̠ͅd͚̰̣̹̦͈̕o̬̭̹̭͍͍ ͖̕i̘̹̰͕͚̹t̘͍͢ ̱͕̟͍I͕̭̯̗͈͓ ̟͖̠͎̰͝c͔̰̝̜an̝͍͍͎̹̕'̩͔̥t̠͞ͅ ̗̞̠͇̲̟d̪͙͜o̠̩ ̘̺̩́i̻t̘ ̠̥̩̼I̟̯̮̘ ̮̪͠c͚̪̗a͍͎͇͚͓̻͚ṋ͔̬̳͡ͅ'̺̻t̪̙͚̤̣͔̩̀ ̡͇̜̥̣͕d͎͍̟͎͎̳͜o͙͓͞ ̨͍̖͎i҉̰̱̳͎t̞̲̖͞ ̼͎̱̜͙͜ ̟͙̞̹I ̱͕̩̰̝͟c̷̗̦̟̥͍a҉n̝̰̻̙͡'̴̳̤͎͈t̘̲̝̜̰͈ ͚̝̲͞do̪̞͖͖̖̫ ̳̘̘̗it̜͙ Í̲̲̰̺ͅ c̸̲̰a̳n̪̰̞̺̖̬͚'̞͇̣t͖̱͔̯͙͕ͅ ͇̘͇̟̮̙d̩͝o̠̞̞̠͍̻ͅ ̥̘̗ͅi̵͚t̮͈̭̰̼ ̯̤̮̞̪͚I̕ ̧̩̜̥̦̜ͅc̸͇̩̥̹a̝̺͢n͏͍͔̝̘̥'̣̭͙̪͎̰̲t̖̟ ͡d̫̙̗͕̪̪̪͡ò ͙̖̯̖̙i̢̻t̥̥̺ ̡̮̪̳͖͈̮I̯̪͍̩̩ ̵͉c̫̹̹a̭̤̻̳͓̳̱͟n'̢̫̖t ̪̩̠̩̖̣̣͜d͖͡ͅo͙ͅ ̧͔i҉̞̠̫̪t͙̦̘̝͕̠͟ͅ ̕ ̮I̝͉̩̱̘ ̡̳c̛a̪̟͟n̵͙͈̻̹'̤̻̹̣̠̀t̷̞ ̵̮̭̞d̘̻͈o̪̻ ͏̹͙̯͖̻i̮̘̮͍̺͚͙t͘ ̹͢I̥̖͇͖̙̟ͅ ̺͍̥̥̠c̦̟͈̺͈a̛̫̜n̰̳̹'̧̲̜͓̟̹̭t̕ ̜͜do̹̲̩ i̜̤t̙̗ ̙͜Í̻̞̳͍̪̠̭ ć̖͖a̴n̸'t̢̜ ̙͟d͙̺̖̮̲o̢ ̦͍͖i͏͓͇̱̲̺t̮̳̲͇̭͚ͅ ̠̤̗͚̩ͅI̙̻̫̼̮ ͙̘̣̖̙c҉̬͙͔an͟'t͕̤ ̶̘͚̼̣͚͙̦d̲̹̻̪̗̩͕o҉͖̲ ̨̗̰̪̩̰i͙̣̗͓͇̠͢t͙̩̤ ̢̗͍ ҉̞̣͉̰Ḭ ̦̣͍͉̹̱c̸̞̤̲͓̪̙̟a̗̠n̬̰̳̥͉̖'͎ͅt̜͘ ̴̗͈̹̟̘d̬̩̬͚o i͎̙̘͍̝͈ͅt̳̟͎͖͉͓ ͈͔̫I̬͍̱͈͢ ̟͕͔̖̠͖̺͞c̨a̶̱̜̲͍ǹ̤͖̗͚̣̬͇'͓͇͇͈͚t̛̠̝͖̖̥̫ ̸̪̖̬̝͎̮d҉̼̯̦̩̰o ̱̝̼͉̠͢ͅi̞̕t̟͔͚ ̥̲̜͜Ì ̳c̛͔̤̫ą͈̟͕͇͈͎̝nͅ'̦̫t͔͖̫ ̮d͎̰o̞̫̲͖̯̤ ҉̦̱͈̲̻̲i̧t҉̹̮͖̺̥ ̬̦͙̬I̙͉͎ ̫̘̮̥̜̫̟c̙a̞̤̹̯̯͘n̕'̙̤̩̠̣̤̮t͇̲͈̣̠̩͈ ̫̤̻͘ḑơ̠̜̲̻̻ ̱̹̙̤̬̭̟͠i̯̘͍̯t̢ ̨̖̰̳̩̲ ̝̘͔̖̮̳̀I̯͖̪͎̹̕ ̳͍͈̭ca̮̮̻n̫̹̲͍̹̠'̹tͅ ̨d̺̱͉̼̺ͅo̹̠̰̤͕͚̬ ̴̼̗̘̜̰̥̦i̡͍͔͉͕͉t͖̻͙̘̘ ͚̦̟̼̙͝I̛̳͖͇̰̣ ̰̩͙̣̗͎͉c̴̼a͎̬͙̳͡n'̛t̘͝ ̶̭̥̺͍d͏̠̘͎̠̲o̹̤ ̛̠̖͓̳͚i̛̥̮̜͍̭͕̳t͚̲̹̣̪͖ ̭̻̤̮͞I̩̮͈͖ ̪͚̜̕c͎̀ͅa͏̯̹̮̲̹ͅn'̴̙̫t̨̪͎͙ ̗͝d̯̤͕̝̟͚̟o̻͢ ̵i̻̯͙̞̥t̩ ͕͘I̥̟͎͔͈͍̙ ͚̯̟̙̹̱c͚͚͓a̬n̛͎'̗̙̜͚̯̯͓t̖͚̳͔̹͎ d͈̹͕̻̫̱̼o̝͚̝̗ͅ ̷͔̻̠̦̳̤̜i̭̫͔t͉͉̝̦̠̘̹ ̛̯̘̥̱

“You can’t. Yet” [Lauren still wonders why her magic-magic doesn’t work as a command, but only when she posses it as a question is when the pretty purple lights and symbols appear on her hand.] Can you open the drawer?  

[She sees her magic circle form the question, the circular light moving fast between the letters. Mariam seems to react, and slowly move towards the drawer. She touches it, and starts to scratch it with her nails. Time passes and Mariam keeps scratching it with her nails. Lauren gets bored of looking and ignores the incessant scratching noises and whispers in her room while trying to concentrate on writing a good smutty fanfiction.]

I҉̗̪̹̮̬̮ ̭͈c̣a͕ṉ̷ ̛͎ḏ̠̦̩͉̗o͍̭̟̯̱͙ ̝̗͜i̤̪͍̻̳̦̬t͔ ̱̺̰̟͝Į͇̲̘͙̮ ͎̝͈c͇̯̻a͕̮n̵͉̬͍̲͉̗ ͓͝ḑ̪̦̘̘o̬̩̜̼ ̖͍̩͜i̩̣̣̮t̩͎ ̳̘̣͚̼͜I̢͔ ̣̥͙̬̩̖̹̀c͎͢ạ̤͕͇n̴͓̬͙̝̠̣ ͍͙̳͚d͙͈̻͚̕ò̬̟̦ͅ ͙̲͎̣̞͜i̬̣̹̼t̗̻̟ ͕͟ͅI̠͎̯ ̨ͅc͓͓̬a̯̱͙̳͜n̯̻͇͙͙ ͙͔̪̪͍ͅd̢͉o̴̤̬̟ ̺̳̼i̸̙͔̥̤͚t͇̼͇ ͓̳̙̱̖̺͇I̢̼̱̹̬ͅ c̬̘̯͚̪a͙̹͖͞n̬̭̲͇͙͎ ̸͚͙͕̰̫̘͎do̟͉͚̰ ͇̳̞̣̳i̡̞̥͓t̴̞̦̩ͅ ͎͔̖̩ͅI҉͙̪̥͖̜͍͖ ̟̣̙̭͉̖c̘͍a̴̻̱͚̺̤n̹̫̦̕ ̶͇̖̖̝̲͖ͅd͕̣o͕̙̙ ̜͚̬i̩̯͉͖͇͖͕̕ţ̜ ̭̖̫̻̲I̗͕̻̖̠ ̷̭c̥̙̜͍͔͇a̛͕͕̟͙̥n͍̝̙ ͔d̹̲ó̞̗ ̬̟͟i͕t̯ I͕̭̱̘͟ ̰̩͎͙͔c̮̺a͉͓͍͕̝̘ͅn͎͕͔͡ͅ ̨̗͈͙̤d͉̫͕͟o̜̺̻͈̟̱ ̹͖̤̫i̝̬͖̱̣̱t͖̖͍̣ ̹̗I̸̦͕̤̙͔ͅ ̥̗̗͎͕̻͖c͇̩a̻͕͈̟̺͖͜n̫̠̞ ̱̦͈d͔̲̪o̘ i̮̣̫̟͙̻̰͞t͇̗ ̞̺̟͖I̲̗̙̹͝ͅ ̭c̵͍a̺̖n͔ ̸̳͙̤͇̱͕d̫o̦̙̱ iţ̯̣͕̯̙ ͖̠͖Į͎̦̣͔ ͔c̖̥̯̤͙a͔͎͕͉͚n̸̰̺̝͍ ̦d͖͖̬o̳̙̣ ̴̫ͅi̷̟t̯̬̥̼̲ ̯̞͚I̪̖̤͚͕̬ ̝̝͠ć͎͕͖̤a͍̥̥̗ǹ͎̻̹͉̣ ̵̭͔̤̺d͙̠o̢̙̜̥͍͈ͅ ̩̹̲͖i̠̙̳̩͉ͅţ̬̫̩ ̻I͔̪ ͈̝̪̗͟c̘̮͝ạ̶n̦͜ ͔̠̗d̻̠̤̮̩ọ͙̩̕ ̙̳̳̘̩i̧͚̙t ̼̮̥̪́I ̠͙̙͖̯̪̀c͕̪̟̖̲̀ͅạ̠͈̜n̶͔̪͍̲ͅ ̦d̙̣̙͖̪̕ͅo̩̬͞ ̫͈̗͡i̺͙̦̯̱̲̘t͍͎ ̠̭͓̞̺͚I͍̬̰̯ ͎̟̮́c̶̠̻̭̟̼̯a̦̹̠̖͝n͙̼̗͢ ḍͅo͎͉̥̫̜̳͈͠ ̢̹̼̹̥̻̱i̡̮̝̣͖͖̯t͍ ͜I ̷c̵͇̯a̜̲̝̻̭n̥̮͟ d̦o̙̼̗̙̘̰ ҉͇͈i̳̜̖̖͍t̛͈̬͕͈̳ͅ ̱̺̗̭̳̱͝I͉͔͕͎ ̧̪̙͉̜͙͚ć̗̰̞̥ą̯̫̬̞̳͓̜n̞̰̮̙͚͖ͅ d̝̯̲͇o҉̝ ̷͔̩͔̤̬͔ͅi̹͡t̙͖͎ ̜̖̗͚̻̀I̞̗͎̹͍͇ ͎̦͓̩̥ć͕͔̦̠̖a͓̲̝͈̗̲ͅn̗̫̭ͅ ̜͉̤̠͓͙̫́d͎o͝ ̜̼̱̞̣ͅi̺̟͕͖̥͇̟t̛̯̠̜͙̥̖͔ ̛̘̦̰I ҉̲̼c̨̤͕̱̲̥̠̬a̙̮͖̥͙ṇ̹̩̳̩ ̦̺̗̗d̢̻͎̲̮̙o̥̙ ̰̼̱̙͎i̢̻̬͙ͅt̻̖ ̦̝͈̠̩̜̪͟Ì̠̼̺͇̙͚̳ ̺̟c̵̬̥̗a̻̫̩̗̖̖ͅṋ͙͜ ̫̮̘d̬͇̟͖̳̀o ̛̝̮̮i̴̱͇̖͕̤͖t̮͚̖ ̹͝

[She tries to put some music on, but she can hear it throught the music, like it’s part of every base of every song. After three hours that seems like an eternity, Mariam shuts up. Lauren stands up to check the drawer. Miriam is standing there. The wood near the hinges is totally wear down. It’s not that it’s open, is that it can’t be closed anymore.] “Bingo.”