#also ty for the prompt it was very appreciated

[luveline]

omg i loved the loopy wisdom teeth one w peter 😭😭 can i get that with hotch, and reader, who's usually more reserved starts flirting with him and stuff while she's loopy

ty!! and ty for ur request ♡ fem, 1.2k

"Most people have their wisdom teeth out in their teens," Aaron had said before you went in, a Spencer Reid tidbit if there ever were one. 

"I'm a special case," you'd said, accepting his kiss on the cheek but denying his half hug. "See you in a bit." 

People often lament that Aaron's ended up with a  woman so much like himself. You must make each other miserable, one ill-advised chancellor had said, to your amusement. 

We're desperately unhappy, you'd said back. 

The opposite is true. You and Aaron, or Aaron alone, at the very least, is as happy as he's ever been. Work is hard but manageable, Jack is well-tempered, growing smarter and kinder each day, and you're his sweetheart. You're reserved, a little solemn, but you understand him better than anyone ever has. It's a relief like no other to be known so well. 

And so he has zero qualms looking after you for the rest of your lives. He waits patiently for you to come out of surgery, arms behind his head in the empty waiting room. He's worried about you. This isn't a painless procedure. 

Footsteps echo down the hallway, but you announce yourself anyways in the doorway. "Handsome!" you say, a lisp to your happy sing-song, "I'm back." 

Aaron doesn't know what to say. He giggles like a kid at your sudden demeanour and sits up properly. "Honey." 

You wobble with the nurse at your back, prompting him onto his feet to take over. "You should remove the gauze in about half an hour when the bleeding has completely stopped. Clean daily with saline, there are instructions in the bag," the nurse says, offering Aaron a white prescription bag. "Okay?" 

"That's perfect. Thank you so much," he says, taking your hand. 

"You're perfect," you say, looking up at Aaron with stars in your eyes. 

The nurse laughs softly as she leaves. Aaron doesn't bother hiding his amusement, grinning at you as he puts his hand between your shoulders to guide you to the front of the building. 

It's busier here. Reception is hectic. Aaron puts his arm more firmly around you to stop people from bumping into you and you again look at him with your starry eyed gaze. "You're very tall," you say. 

"I am," he says. "Though you joke occasionally that I'm shrinking." 

"The only thing getting smaller is your waist," you say, poking at his abdomen, "my champion." 

You're referring to his recent third triathlon success. He's no record setter, but it keeps him active and happy in the summer months, and he can't pretend you don't appreciate the additional definition of his muscle during this time. You like him every month of the year, of course, but with his trim waist comes a certain amount of energy you also appreciate. 

"Completely inappropriate behaviour," he says lightly, waving a short goodbye to the receptionists as he holds open the door for you to pass by. "Next you'll be enacting PDA." 

"You'd like that, huh?" 

Hard to take any notice of you with gauze fluffing your words, and again, he laughs at you. "I'd love that." 

"Well, wait, I'll do it right here–" 

Aaron catches your hands mildly. "In the car first. Kiss after." Your downtrodden expression requires urgent care. "What, that's not okay? You're upset?" 

"No," you lie obviously, glaring down at your feet as you wobble forward. 

"Maybe we can wait until later, then." 

"What?" You gawp. "You just said in the car." 

"I'm teasing you," he says, taking your elbow. "We've been known to do that with one another on occasion. You know I'd happily kiss you anywhere you wanted to be kissed, honey, now watch your step on this curb. Watch your step. Good job." 

You're extremely pleased by his praise, leaning into his arm with your head tipped back. "You're so handsome. Can you kiss me now?" You soften your eyes. 

Alright, you have a little bit of bloody dribble on your bottom lip, and yes, there's this dazed look about you like you've had a mean shock, but you never look at him like this day to day. Perhaps in your more intimate moments, your arms around him when the lights are low, or early, early in the morning when you haven't yet remembered your more timid temperament. But it's so rare. It catches him off guard, how pretty and wanting you look. 

Aaron leans down for a careful kiss, the barest of pressure. 

"And a good kisser," you murmur, turning into his chest for a hug. "I love you, I want you to carry me to the car." 

"Sweetheart, I don't think I can," he says. He's mostly kidding in the depth of his apology, but there are real threads of remorse in his voice, hot as a flame. "Come on. We'll go home, okay?" 

"But you always do everything for me. Everything I ask for." You talk into his chest, likely leaving pink spit on the grey of his quarter zip. He couldn't care less, his arm around you, looking down with equal measures of fondness and surprise. "I had to stop saying I liked things because you kept buying me stuff. I love stuff." 

"Then why did you stop?" he asks quietly. 

"'Cos I know I don't deserve it. Don't deserve you, Aaron, you're the best man I've ever met. Can't believe it."

He savours your mumbling, and begins to walk forward slowly, encouraging you out of his chest as he formulates an answer for your confession with the same gravity. "You can't believe it?" 

"You're a tall glass of water." 

He actually sighs aloud. My girl, he thinks, rubbing your lax shoulder. "Alright. What if I thought the same of you? What then?" 

You giggle infectiously, a stickying sound like you know he's trying to trip you up. "Nice," you say. "We should always be like this." 

When he brings it up later, the extreme effects of your anaesthesia dissipated and your pain revamped, you can't think of anything worse. "I'm mortified," you whisper, your ice pack chilling the top of his arm where you've wedged it, your hand tucked between his thighs in an attempt to stay warm. 

"I quite liked it." 

"You would. You used to flirt with me so aggressively–" 

"Aggressively," he repeats, grinning. 

"–you're lucky I survived it." You sniffle, rubbing your nose into his sleeve. "Was I as intimidating as you are?" 

He presses his lips to the top of your head, not kissing, just there. "No," he says into your skin, "you weren't intimidating at all. Just lovely. It made my day." 

"I'll have to have my teeth taken out more often." 

He snorts. "If you'd rather have more teeth pulled than flirt with me unaided, things are worse than I thought." 

"Don't be like that..." Much quieter, "Will you rub my back again, please?"

Just like that, he's reminded of how much he likes your regular reserved attitude. "Sure, honey. Lean forward."

[redroomreflections]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 5

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c: 3.2k.

Masterlist | General Masterlist

“Red or Blue?” You asked Natasha as you sifted through one of your many suitcases. Clothes were strewn about on the floor around you as you debated what to wear. It wasn’t exactly a tough choice but first impressions mattered. Even if the first impressions you were banking on weren’t the other hotel guests. 

“What?” She glanced up from her phone, confusion evident in her furrowed brow. “Why are you asking me?” 

She was busy debriefing Steve and the team on a few minor details. Small things she picked up about the resort from your time in the lobby. So far, as expected, everything seemed normal. 

You glanced over, noticing her distraction, and rolled your eyes. "Just trying to involve you in the decision-making process. You know, team effort. Don’t you have girlfriends that you discuss outfit choices with?” 

 "Not really my style," She replied dryly, before resuming her conversation with Steve and the team, seamlessly slipping back into her professional demeanor.

“I can see,” You muttered as you slipped into the bathroom. You took your time changing into the black suit, tying it as best you could behind your neck before you snapped the straps of the bottoms on your waistline. You walk back over to your suitcase, squatting to find your favorite lotion-sunscreen combo that always has your skin looking lovely and sparkly. “I guess it’s not okay to ask you if I should wear my hair up or down?” You tilted your head, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you applied generous amounts of lotion to your legs. With one knee bent, you glanced over to Natasha, waiting for her response.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement as she glanced up from her phone. "I suppose you can ask," she replied. "But don't expect any expert advice from me."

You shook your head. What a shame. "Fair enough," you conceded, finishing up with the lotion before returning to your suitcase. "Looks like it's just me and my questionable fashion sense then."

It’s then Natasha truly looked at you. This bikini was wow. In every sense of the word. It was very little, borderline inappropriate, but also somehow still tasteful. Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary as she took in the sight, a subtle appreciation glinting in her eyes.

"Um, Natasha?" You prompted, noticing her prolonged scrutiny.

Natasha blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, uh, sorry," she replied, clearing her throat. "Wear your hair down. It suits the look."

You didn't catch her response at first, too engrossed in adjusting the straps of your bikini top. "What was that?" you asked, looking up to meet her gaze.

Natasha repeated herself, her tone more decisive this time. "I said, wear it down. It looks good." 

You grinned in response, nodding in agreement before turning your attention back to your reflection in the mirror. Natasha's subtle compliment brought warmth to your cheeks and a little more pep in your step.

“Are you wearing that?” You gestured to her as you made eye contact in the mirror across from the bed. It's an interesting choice on the resort’s part. Natasha’s outfit was homely but not in an insulting kind of way. A comfy set since the both of you had spent hours in the car.  With this blonde hair, she resembled the everyday girl next door. 

“Of course not,” Natasha shook her head. She grabbed her bikini from the luggage she’d unpacked already at this point.  “Don’t turn around.” She warned you. 

You turned your gaze toward the mirror, only to witness a blur of motion behind you. Clothes flew through the air as Natasha swiftly shed her sweatpants and t-shirt and stepped into her one-piece swimsuit with practiced efficiency.

The speed and fluidity of her movements left you momentarily speechless, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you watched in awe. You attempted to distract yourself with the jewelry in front of you. Diamond hoop earrings and a small heart-shaped necklace. 

Natasha looked up from fastening her sandals. "Are you ready?"

You raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. "You just got dressed and you’re already rushing me?"

Natasha chuckled, her smirk widening as she shook her head. "I like to stay ahead of schedule," she replied, her tone teasing. 

You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Alright, alright," you conceded, reaching for your sandals. "I'm ready when you are."

“You’re wearing jewelry to the pool?” She questioned, pushing the Fendi sunglasses over her hair. 

Natasha's question caught you off guard as you adjusted your jewelry, a puzzled expression on your face. 

You glanced down at your accessories, contemplating her observation for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Why not?" you replied, your fingers deftly arranging the delicate pieces. "A little extra never hurt anyone."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “ If you say so," she conceded."Just don't come crying to me if you lose something in the water."

“Don’t worry I’ll find some hot pool boy to find it for me,” You shrugged. 

Natasha arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she shot back with equal snarkiness, "Just make sure he's qualified for the job."

***********

The pool area stirred with activity, a lively mix of people young and old enjoying the serene surroundings. The crystal-clear water sparkled under the sun's gentle rays, creating a picturesque scene that called to you.

Finding a few empty seats nearby, you and Natasha made your way over, the soft chatter of voices and the occasional splash of water filling the air. There was some reggae mix on the stereo as the bartender called out names for drinks. Dropping your bags and book onto the nearest chair, you settled down with a contented sigh, sinking into the welcoming embrace of the cushioned seat.

“Joan, sweetie,” You said with a mischievous grin, turning to Natasha. “I left my towel back in the room. Won’t you be a dear and grab me one?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at your request, having just settled into her seat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of annoyance in her gaze as she considered your cheeky demeanor. With a low growl, Natasha stood and walked over to the shelf where the spare towels were. She grabbed a few, walking back over to you with a frown. 

“Here,” She gently passed a towel to you. “Anything else?”

“Hmm,” You thought long and hard. “I’d love a strawberry-lemon mojito.”

Natasha's eyes narrowed further at your response."Keep dreaming," she wanted to say, but for the sake of appearances, she sighed and walked over to the bartender.  

You watched her walk away, your eyes lingering on certain assets longer than necessary. You could admit that Natasha had an amazing physique. Something you had always admired from a distance. 

A subtle flush crept up your cheeks as you realized the direction of your thoughts. Despite your professionalism, you couldn't deny the admiration you held for Natasha's physical prowess. It was a quality you had always respected, even if you had never openly acknowledged it before.

She’d probably kill you if you did it anyway. 

Turning your attention back to the pool, you made a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside any lingering distractions. Beside you, you noticed an older woman with graying hair casting a curious glance in your direction. Her eyes flashed with interest as she leaned closer, a warm smile gracing her lips.

“Newlyweds?” she ventured, her voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" you replied, feigning innocence as you awaited her response.

The older lady chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement at your response. "Oh, it's just something about the way you two carry yourselves," she explained with a knowing smile. "There's a certain glow of happiness and togetherness that newlyweds often have. It's unmistakable."

“Wow, you got all that in the five minutes you saw us together?” You questioned. “Are you a psychic or something?”

"Only in a past life," She laughed lightly. "I'm Leslie. And this is my husband Frank. “She referred to the sleeping man with a slight sunburn next to her. You are?" she introduced herself, extending her hand in a gesture of greeting.

"Alexis," you replied with a warm smile, accepting her handshake. "Nice to meet you, Leslie. My lovely wife over there is Joan."

"Oh, I love this newer generation of out and proud love," Leslie smiled wistfully. "It’s so beautiful to see. Such a beautiful couple too. Is this your first time at the resort?"

"Thank you, Leslie," you replied sincerely, touched by her kindness. "Yes, it's our first time here. We heard wonderful things about the resort and couldn't resist experiencing it for ourselves."

“And how do you like it?” Her eyes sparkled with interest. 

"It's been quite lovely so far," You added. “It’s been a while since we’ve taken a proper vacation together. I’m so excited for the week we’re here.” 

Leslie's excitement was contagious as she spoke about the upcoming events at the resort. "You’re going to be blown away by all of the events this week," she grinned. "There’s a special bonfire tomorrow night that’s simply fabulous. It’s intimate and cozy. Allows you to make friends on vacation."

Your interest was piqued at the mention of the bonfire, as it hadn’t been mentioned in any of the research you’d done. Maybe it was a new development."That sounds wonderful," you replied with genuine enthusiasm, masking any hint of suspicion behind your smile. "We'll definitely have to check it out."

“You absolutely should,” Leslie began to stand. “It would be wonderful for a lovely couple like you to grace us with your presence.” Leslie’s aching bones limited her mobility as she shuffled around the chairs. “I’m going to the bathroom. If Frank wakes up, which I doubt he will, be a dear and tell him I’ll be back.”

“Will do, Leslie,” You nodded, offering a warm smile. She seemed nice enough. You returned your gaze to Natasha to see that she was engaged in a conversation of her own. Seems that people naturally gravitated to both of you. 

*******************

For the first time in days, Natasha found a moment of peace at the bar. She settled onto one of the stools, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music as she signaled to the bartender. As he approached Natasha did a quick once over of his body. Something someone of his attractiveness would be used to. His dark, mahogany skin glowed with a natural warmth, complemented by a smile that seemed to light up the entire bar. 

His hair, a messy of glossy curls, framed his face in a wild and untamed mane, adding to his charm.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants that appeared to be the uniform for all of the staff. 

"Hello," Natasha greeted him with a warm smile, her tone playful yet composed. "I'll take a strawberry and lemon mojito, and hmm," she paused, pressing a finger to her chin in contemplation. She was completely in character at the moment. "Surprise me. Something fruity."

"Coming right up," he replied with a nod, before stepping over to his work area. 

Natasha watched him for a few moments longer before her eyes trailed over the pool area, she couldn't help but notice the diverse display of people and their lively parties. Briefly, her gaze flickered in your direction, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. You managed to look so relaxed already. Though she could see the subtle ways your eyes would flick over the pool area whenever you laughed or spoke to the older woman sitting beside you. 

“Hey, Henry, that couple’s here again.” A short woman with bone-straight brunette hair and botox lips informed him as she stepped behind the counter. She did quick work of washing her hands and gathering abandoned dishes on the bar. Natasha squinted to see her name tag. Blanca. A fitting name. 

“Which one?” Henry, the bartender Natasha had spoken to moments earlier, briefly glanced over to her. 

“The one with the dog,” Blanca sighed. “Don’t know why Jorge keeps allowing them to bring it. He’s anxious and it’s too hot out here for him anyway.” 

Henry furrowed his brow in concern, glancing briefly in the direction of the couple with the dog approaching. "That doesn't sound good," he remarked."Have they caused any trouble?"

Blanca shook her head, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. You know how Jorge is, always bending the rules for certain guests."

Natasha's mind raced with possibilities as she listened to their conversation. The mention of Jorge and his leniency towards certain guests hinted at a potential breach in security or protocol. 

“Here you are ma’am,” Henry passed Natasha both drinks before she stood to walk back to her seat. 

As she passed the couple, the dog in question moved over to sniff Natasha in greeting. 

“Oh, hello there,” Natasha smiled warmly, reaching out a hand to give the dog a gentle pat on the head. This certainly wasn’t a service dog based on his relaxed demeanor.

“Oh, Ozzy is so friendly, I’m so sorry,” The woman with platinum blonde hair and several tattoos attached to the leash apologized to Natasha, a hint of concern in her voice.

Natasha waved off the apology with a gracious smile. "No need to apologize, he's quite adorable," she reassured the woman, her tone friendly and welcoming.

As Natasha continued interacting with the dog, she noted the couple's appearance and demeanor. Something about them didn't quite fit the typical resort guest profile of this caliber, and Natasha's instincts told her there might be more to their presence than meets the eye. They both seemed so uptight and frazzled. 

Natasha gave them another smile and walked back over to you. 

“Took you long enough my drink is probably watered-down liquor,” You pouted. “Eh, this is wow.” You coughed. It wasn’t nasty. It was strong and certainly had more alcohol than fruit somehow. 

Natasha arched an eyebrow at your remark. 

"Well, perhaps next time you can come behind the bar and make it yourself," she quipped, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Then you can ensure it meets your exacting standards."

“My existing standards led me to you,” You said through your teeth. 

Natasha's lips curved into a smirk as she settled into the seat beside you, her gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding.

"Well, lucky me," she retorted. "I'll make sure to keep living up to those standards then."

"Does it ever end?" You fake whispered, turning your head towards Leslie, attempting to convey your thoughts discreetly.

Leslie caught your gaze and smiled kindly, her eyes reflecting understanding. At least she had the decency to pretend she wasn’t listening. "Oh, dear," she replied with a chuckle.  "Sometimes it feels like it never does, but there's always a light at the end of the tunnel."

"J, this is Leslie," You introduced Natasha smoothly, seamlessly slipping into your cover story. "She’s my new best friend."

"It's lovely to meet you, Leslie," Natasha added with a friendly smile, her tone warm and genuine.

“Well, aren't you two just the sweetest pair," she remarked, her voice tinged with affection. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Joan. I was telling your wife here about the bonfire tomorrow. It’s something special. You have to see it."

You nodded in agreement, your smile genuine as you responded. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, Leslie. Thank you for the recommendation. It sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening."

As the conversation dwindled, eventually Leslie drifted over to the poolside and began to make conversation with a few older women. Natasha began to go through the bag she’d brought to the pool and found a small bottle of sunscreen. 

"Here, rub this on me," She instructed you, handing you a bottle of sunscreen.

"Why?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice as you eyed her pale skin. "Didn’t you already put some on before?"

Natasha gave you a pointed look, her expression conveying a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Don’t question the logic, just do it," she replied firmly, holding out her arm expectantly.

As you began applying sunscreen to Natasha's exposed skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you. Silently, you wondered why you had taken on this job in the first place. It wasn't that you were truly angry; in fact, you were the complete opposite. 

This part of the mission had never been difficult before. Playing the part of a fake doting wife had practically become second nature to you. But being here with Natasha felt different. There was something about her presence that stirred emotions within you, emotions you hadn't expected to surface during the mission.

Natasha turned her back to you, dropping the straps of her swimsuit lower on her arms so you could reach her shoulders. The intimacy of the moment caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you found yourself lost in the sensation of her warm skin beneath your fingertips.

As you rubbed the warm cream into Natasha's skin, the muscles of her back flexed slightly beneath your touch. You couldn't help but notice the way her body responded to your ministrations, and a rush of thoughts flooded your mind. They weren't entirely pure thoughts, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the direction your mind was wandering.

But then, a small comfort washed over you - at least Natasha couldn't read minds. You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for that small mercy, grateful that your innermost thoughts remained your own.

"I think we could hang out by the pool for a few hours and then call it a night," Natasha suggested, her voice breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Maybe go over some things."

"Sounds like a plan," you replied, masking any hint of hesitation with a casual tone. "A bit of relaxation by the pool is exactly what I’m here for.”

“Only that?” Natasha looked over her shoulder to you. “And the beautiful women,” You muttered under your breath. 

Natasha's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features as she turned to face you fully. "Really?" she questioned, her voice carrying a note of exasperation.

You chuckled, recognizing her annoyance but unable to resist pushing her buttons just a little. "Hey, just stating the obvious," You replied with a shrug. 

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well, try to keep your eyes open okay?" she retorted, a touch of teasing in her tone despite her annoyance. “Don’t sleep with anyone behind my back.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” You pressed a hand to your chest, faking scandilization. “How dare you insinuate I would ever cheat on my beautiful, intelligent, and hot wife.” 

“That drink was stronger than you’re letting on,” Natasha smirked knowingly. 

“Maybe,” You shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.” You sighed as you lounged in the chair, your head pointed towards the sun. Natasha turned in her chair to watch you for a few seconds longer before she laid back in her chair. 

So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this place. It seemed like a typical resort, with sun-drenched pool areas, lush tropical foliage, and guests lounging lazily in the warm afternoon sun. 

Everything appeared to be just as it should be, with no signs of the covert operations or clandestine activities that you had been tasked with uncovering.

Despite the lack of immediate danger or suspicious behavior, you remained vigilant, knowing that appearances could be deceiving.

next part

[jennifer-jeong]

Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...

Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)

HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!

I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe

Fluff + Angst | LADS x Fae!Reader Angel

CONTENT Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.

It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.

You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.

You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.

The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.

Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.

It’d take years, but it was worth it.

2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.

XAVIER

Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.

Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.

He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.

After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.

Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.

“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”

ZAYNE

Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.

He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.

He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.

Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.

Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.

Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.

You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.

Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.

“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.

The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.

Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.

Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.

Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.

After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.

When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?

Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.

“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[justin-chapmanswers]

AAAA THE SILVER SPOON EXIT IS FANTASTIC!!! You guys always do such a good job with the Exit Interviews. They're super fun videos that also add juuust that little extra amount of characterization that makes them even better to watch.

What inspires you guys to add the little mini-stories in each interview? Do you usually have an idea of what direction you want it to go beforehand, or do specific questions give you inspiration?

Thank you so much!!! Had so much fun working on that one. And looooove the question. Partly cause I'm like "idk if anyone cares that I do this, but it's fun, anyway!"

When writing any Exit Interview (I've been sole-writing or co-writing all from Box's-and-on, but might not for Balloon's?), I always want to be writing with some sort of angle. Sometimes it's a story for the contestant (TK, Cabby #1, Paintbrush, Silver) , sometimes for the interviewer (Box, Clover), sometimes both (Goo). Sometimes it allows us to hit on an angle on a character that we haven't already, sometimes it gives us some time to show off how far a character has come. Sometimes something that affects the whole interview, sometimes something that'll pop up towards the end that we can hint at earlier. But we tend to try for at least a little-something! We like presenting new narratives wherever we can. The tale is never quite done with these pals!

As for how we plan it out, I'll often go into an interview knowing exactly what angle I want to come in with, and how much that angle'll need to weigh on the characters. I knew I wanted to tell a narrative about Paintbrush wrapping up their three-season-journey and expecting a hyper-dramatic interview to express every facet of their emotional experience... only to receive a bunch of nonsense questions that leaves their final wrap-up feeling empty. So I noted to the audience that we'd love silly questions. I knew that for Silver's Exit we were going to explore the anxieties around criticism, so I made sure to write in the question prompt that Silver would love to hear some compliments- so that we could then receive a bunch of complimentary questions for him to appreciate (but not enough to make a deep impact), and inevitably we received some negative too- which I could then use to show how hard one mean comment can hit for the guy.

For Cabby we wanted to prep for her eventual return by sewing in her current troubled state of mind without tying things up to cleanly in a bow. Clover we wanted to flip it around and have her help an interviewer down on his luck. With Bot we needed to let them reflect on what they've been through but also think on some of the elements of their existence that are still feeling complicated. In Yin-Yang's we knew we wanted to make sure we were following through on their tricky feelings regarding their experience Candle, while also demonstrating their growth as a fun lil duo. Etc.

Occasionally I'll need some inspiration, so I'll ask for the questions first and see if that sparks any particular ideas. When we received a bunch of motherly-oriented characters for Tea Kettle I was left to ponder "how would she feel about this?" With Goo's Exit a couple Cheer Factory questions popped up and I started to think about the fun juxtaposition of matching Goo with someone serious who expects Goo to be a legitimate entrepreneur. Since then we've enjoyed leaning into pairing contestants with very different-vibe interviewers when possible.

And the mindset of writing with an angle all stems to working on Inanimate Answers. Not sure how many people have seen that, since the newest ep predates Invitational, but there we had a very very similar format. It's sorta like the unintentional test-run of Exit Interviews, with some personal conflicts for the contestant, and some for Justin. I'd loooove to make more of those, but they were being made at a point in time where I didn't have a non-II full-time job, and II wasn't focused much on episode production. So finding the time has been tough. We did make a mini version for the Inanimate Direct which was fun (although funnily some of my favorite on-camera work I've done for the channel was in that same video but the Patreon-information segment- which no one will ever watch again cause the Patreon no longer exists haha). And I have an old Yin-Yang Inanimate Answers 5 script that would need to be pretty heavily reworked now that season 3 exists for YY, if I were to try at them again. Maybe there's room for IA in the future. Lots to figure out with the channel! But I'm glad we've had Exits to take on the legacy of some bonus viewer-interaction-based-storytelling.

[starry-bi-sky]

ty for contributing to the wasteland that is appreciating bruce as a parent and first child danny🙏🙏🙏

It’s a battle out here soldier but I am strong, like winter bear. Also I relate so hard to Bruce in a lot of ways and I think his initial concept is really neat. He tries his damn hardest, and he has so much hope for his city that it’s really admirable.

And as much fun as it is to poke fun at him for his questionable parenting and hypocrisy, there’s always the line of too much that the fandom tends to cross quite often, just as much as they do with the clone and ghost king stuff. Bruce is just as much of a good parent (or at least a trying one) as he is a bad one, and people tend to ignore his good qualities for the sake of a joke. His character is centered around the fact that he cares, he’s just truly shit at communicating it — which, cheers bro, I’ll drink to that.

And there’s already a ton of batfam prompts and aus out there where Danny shows up when the whole colony is already adopted, which means most of the attention goes to Danny bonding with the other siblings and having very little to do with Bruce. He’s kinda just. There. Whether that be as a prop or an antagonist or someone to point and laugh at. Which, I can’t blame people too much for — the cast is so big it’s hard to keep track of relationships and stuff.

However, I think it’s important for Danny to have some form of relationship with Bruce too and not them just be strangers, especially in a familial/platonic setting where Danny is joining the family.

They share a handful of qualities that I think would mesh well together — Danny’s canonically a pessimist while Bruce is a diehard optimist (you kinda have to be to be a hero in a place like Gotham, and he wouldn’t be Batman if he wasn’t) and they both believe in giving people second chances and have wells of compassion to tap into. Danny’s clever and resourceful, and one of his main character traits is that he’s got an iron will.

All in all, good dad bruce go brrrrr and oldest son danny is the perfect, underutilized concept to explore exactly that without distractions. I think they could get along like a house on fire, if given the opportunity.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Requested by @deirdredeity (I accidentally deleted the og ask because tumblr was being fussy) :

OMG?? 🤯🤯 whattttt omgggg fuck being an anon I’m the one who requested the flustered reader shi (mmm was an anon bcz I didn’t wanna embarrass myself but whatever) omg dayumm you went crazy with it and I’m more than satisfied 😍 you always EAT (get it? haha.. eat.. and shadow milk.. haha) I love it tysm ❤️❤️ glad that I didn’t accidentally break a rule hehe.. we love girlboss girlfailures in here 😘 didn’t expect it to be that spicy but nevertheless I am GLAD ty for this juicy piece also you said currently he’s sealed so continuation where bro is UNsealed? 🤯🫣 (jk don’t take me too seriously I have a mental age of 5 jokes aside thank you i really appreciate it, it turned out super well way beyond expectations I was expecting like a few pickup lines or smooches but definitely not this it blew me out of the water hard tytytyty ily❤️)

Alright bet I get to go crazy again

Requested Prompts #43 - 💓

There's a ringing in your ears, what the hell happened? You just wanted to take a nap... yet it feels like you were in a dome of glass that just shattered. You can feel a poking against your cheek, it's something large, metalic and- wait. You crack open your eyes, just enough to see the intimidating form of Silent Salt staring you down. You're lucky that the beasts consider you... actually, you don't know what they really think of you. Do they think you're their pet? Their friend? a Frenemy? Well, either way you were their warden. " Silent Salt...?" You groan, pushing yourself up from the ground. Silent Salt says nothing, merely just pointing a ways in front of you to- ... hold on, WHAT THE FUCK??? " THE SEAL???" You exclaim, looking at the humongous crack in the realm of the seal. It pulsed with a blue, shadowy energy, which could only mean that Shadow Milk had escaped. And that was bad, very bad, because it meant that you were failing at your job. And... with how big that crack was you doubted that Elder Faerie was on the outside trying to wrangle Shadow Milk back into the seal... Meaning that you had to go outside to get him back in, but doing so would leave the other beasts unattended. Either way, you're failing at your job. So what choice do you really have? You look back at Silent Salt. " Uh... thanks for letting me know?" You said to him, to which earned you a thumbs up in response. You quickly pondered on your choice before looking back to Silent Salt. " Try not to escape while I'm gone, I don't want to double fail at my job." You tell him before running off towards the crack in the seal.

----

As you expected, everything was chaos. Possessed faerie cookies lingered, danced, and fooled around all around you. There were quite a few things that were on fire and the echoes of twisted laughter almost mocked you as you steeled yourself. None of them were who you were looking for despite the resemblance he'd dressed them up in. " Dammit... where would he go if he got out on his own?" You muttered to yourself as you looked around. Fortunately, you could narrow it down to a few places, unfortunately you realized that you are but one cookie. You cannot traverse the entirety of Beast Yeast in just a few minutes or so, it'd take you a few days realistically and by then all the other beasts would have likely gotten out! Were you really fucked no matter what? Probably. You took a deep breath, if anything he'd probably be in some kind of gigantic theater- Well wouldn't you know, there's a gigantic theater right over there that's just oozing with Shadow Milk's aura. There was no way he wouldn't be there, and so that's where you'd go. Hopefully you'd be able to drag him back to the seal.

----

Shadow Milk watched as those pesky little heroes ran about, celebrating as if they'd truly won. Those poor, ignorant fools! They really thought that they'd actually sealed him away in the tree again? They'd been running around in his silly little maze ever since he'd taken hold of the new half-a-cookie guardian's little friends! It was honestly quite pathetic how they hadn't realized they'd been tricked into a false sense of security, he was literally the beast of deceit! Everyone's most beloved Trickster! Tricking them into this just felt too... easy, too boring. He could try his hand at getting Silly-Vanilly to chop down the tree, all he has to do is show him the truth! And why wouldn't he want to know the truth if he embodied it? Unless he was willing to live in a lie... then he was much farther from the Truth than Shadow Milk thought- His train of thought was interrupted when the doors of his theater of lies swung open. " Hm?" That was... odd. Elder Faerie certainly shouldn't be alive, White Lily and co are stuck in his maze of deceit, so then who...? There you stood, looking quite peeved off if he had to say so himself. " Oh! Little Warden, how thrilling that you've come to make an appearance!" He chirped, casting his view of the maze to the side. The maze could wait, his little warden was here! " Shadow Milk Cookie!" You called out, pointing at him accusingly. " You will return to the great seal immediately! And that is an order from the Warden of the Seal!" You commanded him, don't mind the quick pov switch but it was frustrating enough that Shadow Milk escaped in the first place, and now he had the audacity to give you such a smug grin in reply? " Oh Little Warden..." Shadow Milk began, laying on his stomach as he rested his chin on the back of his hand. " It's so so so cute that you think that you can order me around like that~! I'm a free cookie now, and that means that I can do whatever I want again~!" He chirped with a flourish of his free hand, you could see the excited mania dancing in his eyes, you couldn't allow this to stand. " Okay, but you haven't actually earned your freedom at all. You just waited until the seal was weak enough so you could break out!" You retorted, which may have been the wrong thing to say judging by the way his grin dropped for a moment. He soon broke out into a maniacal cackle, seeming to have found your words hilarious. " Ehe he he ha ha hah! Sure, I may have done that, but does it really matter?" He teased, reaching out a clawed hand and picking you up by the edge of your cloak. You shrieked as you were hoisted into the air, you didn't have the protection of the seal that kept you from crumbling while in the real world, so your life was in a lot more danger here. " Ack- Put me down! Or at the very least hold me properly!" You protest as you squirm in place, you feel a shudder run through your dough as the beast before you lets out a low, rumbling chuckle.

" And why should I? You adorable little morsel~" He purrs, flipping you around in his hand so that you were laying on your back on his palm instead of dangling in the air. God fucking dammit, he was doing this again. He knows every, single, god damn weak spot of yours and by god does he abuse them frequently, mainly because they mostly relate to him. " You-!!" You protest, quickly shutting up when you feel his breath wash over you like a wave of hot air. And the way he's looking at you is already making you weak- No, you have to stay strong. " You know..." You hear him begin and fuck when did he get so close? There's a certain glint in his eyes, one that both intrigues you and makes you fear for your life. " I never really got a taste of you like I wanted to... Care to let me just have one little bite? Or maybe just a taste... either would be fine~" He teased with the low, stupidly sexy voice of his. You could already feel his lips at the tips of your little cookie feet, ready to open and swallow them whole if you let him. You could already feel your face turning cherry red, and you knew that he could see it judging by the slight excitement that made itself known in his eyes. You felt tempted to indulge him, but you also didn't want to lose your feet... But maybe he'd go back to the seal? No, he wouldn't... Would he? Or maybe he won't just go for your feet, he's teased you multiple times about gobbling you up in one bite. So if you give him this will he just... eat you? Apparently, you took too long to decide. You felt something moist and blue against your arm, a semi-satisfied hum creeping out of the beast holding you captive. " Mmn... I was right, you really are a sweet little treat. One that I can have all to myself~" Shadow Milk purred, his face looming over you as he left you to process what he'd done. You were in for a long ride, weren't you?

----

AUGHIJBSGHGKSHG I CAN'T, I CAN'T WRITE ANYMORE/lh Shadow milk... you bastard why must you make me FEEL THINGS????

but, uh, i hope you enjoyed and if anyone wants to continue this then PLEASE.

[yuri-is-online]

Masquerade request with number 5 for Jamil (tho not sure he'd be shy, more like reticent, potentially) aand since I can ask for two others I guess I might as well go for Azul and Deuce who kinda seem like suitable sorts for this prompt.

Ty!

-viperwhispered

5. You know it's him and he knows it's you, but you're both a bit too shy to admit you would like to keep holding onto each other when the masks come off, so you'll just stay here together a little longer.

Completely agree that Jamil wouldn't be shy in this scenario, more like a prisoner of his own self destructive tendencies. Also hello! I'm always really happy to see you in my notifications Whisper <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> Your comments are always very much appreciated.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is mildly angsty and I am uncertain if I have provided any comfort here. Uhh unrequited requited love, everyone here is a pining idiot, Deuce is bro zoning himself. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist.

Jamil

He is unprepared for what it feels like to hold you.

It's one thing to look at someone, another to think of them, but both keep a level of imagination to the interaction. Jamil doesn't have the risk of failure in his imagination; he can comfort himself in his perceived superiority and not actually make the effort. There is no warmth in those thoughts, no weight, no you, nothing resembling the delicate weight in his arms that he finds himself wanting to-

"Are you alright?" You ask softly, bringing some focus back to Jamil's eyes, he smiles at you and you wish you could be certain that he really means it.

"I'm just... unused to this." Jamil chooses his words carefully. He does not expect you to know it's him, but there's always the chance someone else does. It makes him feel sick to think the small sigh of relief you give could be meant for someone else, his mind has a ready supply of suspects, but tonight is supposed to be for strangers to play act at romance. He is... allowed... to want this. "I am not that interesting of a guy, you know?"

"I'm sure you're plenty interesting." You say and Jamil swallows to steady himself, trying to remind the spiraling fractions of his mind that you are saying this to a stranger. You would, you have very likely, said this to anyone who needed the encouragement. "If you let yourself go I am sure you will find there's a person underneath the act." But would it be one you approve of? And why is he worrying over that when everyone should approve of him anyway, especially considering what middling results his classmates are barely capable of?

"Your compliments aren't necessary." His smile says otherwise but you cannot bring yourself to push it least you push Jamil away. "But if you wish to keep them coming I will not stop you." You wind your arms around him to pull Jamil just a bit closer. If only he could read your mind as well as command it, if only he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

"Are you sure you can withstand it?" No he's not. "Because I could go on for quite some time." You are clearly teasing him. Jamil's heart should be used to stress, it's been working overtime since he was first sworn over to Kalim, but he's not. There's something new about this stress, or maybe it isn't stress at all and that's just what he's labeling it because that's what he is used to feeling.

"I can take anything." Jamil certainly projects something like confidence, but even as the other guests begin removing their masks his stays firmly put. In both senses you suppose, unable to keep a bitter sigh from escaping you.

But you say nothing, choosing to simply squeeze his hand and hope that he will somehow inhale the meaning of your movements with the sharp breath he takes.

You can want this, please say you want this, please say you want me and give me a reason to stay.

But he can't in good conscious. He is bound by a duty he wishes upon no one, he refuses to ask properly. Just what it is Jamil wants of you needs to be asked for in freedom. So once again you slip away into the night alone with his hand reaching out towards you just out of sight.

Azul

"You have a strong grip." Your voice is muffled as the gentle, but strong hand at the back of your head keeps you firmly resting on this handsome "stranger's" shoulder.

Azul appears to be under the impression this will be easier on him if he cannot see you, but he seems to have forgotten he still can look down the expanse of your back when he holds you this close. What you're doing can barely be described as dancing, swaying is what people might call it but Azul barely registers that he is moving.

"Of course I do." His voice lacks the usual musical performance you associate with it, he sounds almost... tired. Overwhelmed, you decide is the more accurate term as you exhale into his neck and try not to savor the way he shudders. "To keep precious things close is what any pirate would do, hm?" You smile.

"Fancy yourself a heart thief? I would think that's a more Heartslabyul gig." He stiffens, you know he was just trying to make a jest at the appearance of his costume but you appear to have touched some sort of nerve. Azul pulls you closer, arm wrapping properly around your waist instead of simply sitting on it.

"Is it?" Azul wants to vomit all his feelings up, eject them like a sea cucumber and walk off the embarrassment from showing his guts. Anything has to be less painful than thinking of his-

No you are not his. That's why he is being a coward and not looking you in the eye like any proper gentleman would. Why he had asked for a dance, kissed your hand, and not let go of you all under the flimsy pretense of a mask. Azul dislikes taking solace in your kindness, but he knows he can rely on you to not make him pay for this. Even if you really should.

"Has your heart already been carried off to a maze?" Azul is trying to make a joke, but you are so close to his heart you can hear the nerves hammering away at his typical sense of self.

"I think my heart is drowning." You whisper it, low into his pulse point before your eyes squeeze close in embarrassment. Azul's pulse does not slow, and he cannot squeeze you any closer, a sure sign as if you needed it that he isn't Floyd nor could he ever pretend to be. But he can guide you into a sway that's a little more like a dance.

This is enough for tonight. It will not be enough tomorrow, but it is enough for tonight.

Deuce

This is how friends look at each other. Deuce would know because he has never looked at you any other way. There's a respectful distance between you both, an almost boring decorum to the proper ballroom dance he is happily guiding you in. If it weren't for his continued refusal to call you by your name or meaningless title, it would be like you were talking normally.

"Do they have dances like this where you're from?" Deuce is genuine in his interest, always eager to find a new way to ensure you feel like you belong.

"In books and movies maybe." Your laughter makes him soar, spinning you into the air for a brief second that adds a shriek to it that brings a grin to his face that has you feeling lightheaded. "Honestly I never thought I would get a chance to go to something like this!"

"Why not?" It's a stupid question, even if you have repeatedly reassured him there is no such thing.

"Well a Masquerade is kind of a rich people thing, and I'm not rich." Technically you shouldn't be here either, but you let that thought go unsaid. It never even crosses Deuce's mind, there is something so natural about having you in his arms that the idea of a world without you in it-

A world without you in it. It crystalizes as someone taps on the mic to announce the band will play just one as nice slow song that if everything in Twisted Wonderland had been normal he would be rolling his eyes at as he escapes to the sidelines. But that's not what's happening, he is pulling you closer to him and placing his arm around your waist without so much as a second thought.

"I'm not rich either." Deuce says, no where near as stiff in tone or posture as you would have expected him to be when trying to slow dance. If anything he holds you as if it is the most natural thing in the world to him, lapsing into uncharacteristic silence as he really looks you in the eyes with some strange hidden emotion in them.

It's always been there of course, this is always the way Deuce looks at you, but the mask ironically forces you to really see it.

"I'm lucky to be in this world with you." He means it, and though you hold tightly to his hand he doesn't think you know just how much.

[roomsofangel]

. . BY YOUR SIDE / DESTROY YOU

# CHAPTER TWO !

synopsis in which you were always the type to push down and never confront your past and the feelings that came with it — all of the pain and regret. but now you’re back at where it all started, having no choice but to face it and feel everything all at once

warnings y/n has a panic attack but its not detailed, only showing an implication that she is but the scene ends before it goes further

wc 1.4k

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ^_^

you stretched out your body as someone would an old childhood shirt, bones cracking and falling into a more comfortable place with a quiet satisfied groan before rolled your shoulders back, looking around at the warehouse that was an agreed upon meeting destination. the nostalgia weighed heavy, you could swear you saw droplets of memories splattered around the scene outside and you cringed.

as if your mind was being read, you felt a warm calloused hand on your shoulder, “yeah. me too.” you glanced to see seonghwa who had a similar gaze that mirrored yours, lips pressed together in an attempt to give you a thin lipped but reassuring smile before he patted your back and continued on with his bass that was in his hand, resting in its own case.

part of you wanted to change your mind, but music was your passion. even when things fell apart back then, you still craved music and the arts of being on stage again someday kept you going. however ever since him, you struggled making a name for yourself after. for your own band after he left.

sometimes you could still taste the smoke if you focused hard enough but hongjoong snaps you into reality with a few calls of your name, you follow shortly after with an unsettling feeling in your stomach. just ignore it. you didn’t eat today so that could be it. just ignore it.

“you okay?” mingi noticed your discomfort, his voice a bit lower to keep the conversation between the two of you as he put his drumsticks in his back pocket and you nodded in response. “yeah, just nostalgic.” and he hummed, laughing a bit as a response as the two of you started to walk again to catch up with seonghwa and hongjoong. “yeah.. i feel that.”

you returned the small laugh, looking ahead and watching how hongjoong and seonghwa talked and looked at each other with stars in their eyes even after all these years, even after the three years all of you separated. at times, it feels as if none of you parted ways for that long. you could feel the lump in your throat, but you swallowed it down harshly and kept going. “so, we set up here and then what?” mingi’s voice prompted when the two of you made it to the others

“explore a little, we haven’t been on this side of town in.. what? three years?” hongjoong’s features scrunched up when he attempted to recall, seonghwa mumbled a confirmation while he was kneeled over tying his shoe and making sure everything was settled. “a lot has changed, and trapnest wont be here until another hour so we have time.” hongjoong continued

sooner rather than later, you found yourself walking the same streets that you swore you would never even think about again, much less be back where the air is suffocating and your clothes now felt tight. a lot has changed, only the dread stayed the same. it was a bittersweet atmosphere.

“oh! check it out, sakura boutique is still going strong,” seonghwa’s head motioned ahead, your gaze followed to see the light pink and beige clothing boutique where you used to spend some of your time with the owner. you wiped your damp palms on your hands, “crazy, do you think keomi still works there?” mingi asked before pausing to light the cigarette he had between his teeth, covering enough to block the wind with his hand until he lit up and continued walking.

“beats me, its been three years.” seonghwa shrugged, shoving his hands in his jacket’s pockets. you wondered if keomi still did too, but the last time you two talked she was eager on following after your footsteps and had a ticket to leave with you. the guilt was overwhelming, maybe its best to convince yourself she moved a long time ago and there was a new bubbly employee taking her spot.

exhaling the nicotine, mingi chuckled, “we should stop by there sometime.” he voiced his thoughts out loud as you all continued walking, seonghwa muttering a somewhat agreement while hongjoong only nodded to acknowledge the suggestion but not voice if he would be down for the visit or not. sharing a stolen glance with hongjoong, he lifted his finger to his head and swirled his finger to mimic a ‘this guy is crazy’ expression which made you snort, rushing to brush your hand over your mouth in an attempt to cover it up

“what’s so funny back there?” seonghwa teased, glancing towards you and hongjoong who smiled and tilted his head towards mingi who was focused more on looking around at the familiar shops and some of the new ones you assumed came long after all of you left.

the four of you looked around a bit more, deciding to wander around the shopping center you all used to hang out in a little too much that it seemed as if you lived there. and you weren’t sure how you got here, why your feet began to wander further and further away from your group until you walked into the bittersweet record-shop. you cringed at the scent that filled your nose rather then relished in as before, forcing a smile when an employee greeted you.

your manicured nails grazed some of the records, nearly scoffing at seeing a trapnest vinyl propped up with more of their works, noticing how blackstones were scattered around nearby. even now, you were living in someone’s shadow.

“there you are,” seonghwa chuckled, you only smiled in response, setting the vinyl down and giving him a bit more attention. “here i am,” you voiced back with a soft sigh. “can you believe they still have blackstone albums here?” you questioned with a slight smile and head shake, and seonghwa looked where you head motioned towards with your head and smiled

you noticed his eyes graze over and scan the more bigger shrine for trapnest, “used to be us.” he chuckled, his tone playful, “but it’s nice to see people see listen to us even after..” his voice trailed off and you knew exactly what he was referring to. no one liked to talk about it out loud, or even mention it fully unless it was like this and you only nodded.

“where’s mingi and joong?” you asked to steer the conversation into another direction, the two of you starting to walk down more of the aisles and looking around at more of the albums and vinyls. “food court, came to get you.” he replied, fixing his hair back up into the small ponytail he had it in and you nodded, “yeah i could use some food before going back.” you laughed, patting his shoulder and he playfully nudged you to the side causing the two of you to laugh a bit more before your attention faltered and wandered towards a specific part of the store

the lump in your throat was more prominent than ever, heart racing and stomach dropping. “what are you looking at?” seonghwa asked, before he followed your gaze and his face dropped as well as yours had. “y/n, come on,” he tried to drag you away so you didnt hurt yourself more by staring but you shook your arm out of his grasp

you swallowed harshly, unsure of whether it was okay to move yet or if you needed to hold onto something, “did you know?” you managed to croak out and seonghwa shook his head. “none of us did.” he reassured, voice barely audible and you couldn’t rip your eyes off that poster.

it was a band of five, four guys and a girl who you assumed to be the vocalist but your eyes weren’t on her, they couldn’t seem to hold on anyone except one member with a familiar lock necklace that you still had the key to even now, mockingly staring at you.

mouth dry, you blinked away tears and pulled seonghwa along out of the record shop in a haste, and seonghwa didnt hesitate to follow and the two of you walked and walked with no sign of stopping until you got to the food court where you saw concern gazes immediately from hongjoong and mingi when they noticed

“what happened?!” hongjoong asked, bringing you into his arms immediately and you could feel your knees giving up. no no, you cant do this here. why here? why now?

seonghwa looked at mingi and hongjoong, swallowing before speaking, “san is in trapnest.”

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taglist (open) @yoichiislovie

[melancholic-and-delusional]

Hi!! Hope you're having a great day! 💕

Can I request fem! Reader × akutagawa with fluff 9 and 10? Like, y/n is back from long and tiring overseas business trip or something and Aku (this poor boi😭) is being clingy cause he missed her so much🥺??(even though he never admits it lol he's too proud for that) ty❤️and stay hydrated!!

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy what I've written!

Akutagawa misses his s/o <3

Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

Fluff prompts: "Let's stay in bed a little longer." ; "I've missed you so much."

Akutagawa, your coworker, as well as your boyfriend, wasn't enthusiastic when he heard that you've received a long and difficult mission. Not only that, but it was overseas, which meant that he wouldn't be able to see you at all for days, possibly weeks. How could he know if you were safe and sound? You yourself weren't sure how long it would take for you to finish the task, but knew you'd be able to handle it.

Upon leaving, Akutagawa helped you pack any luggage you needed and sent you off. He hugged you briefly, and the both of you exchanged goodbyes. Nothing more, nothing less.

He thought that he'd be able to endure it, and that was the case for the first few days. What he didn't expect was how much he would miss you by the end and how progressively harder it would get. The more days that passed, the more worried he'd get. He hadn't heard any news about the mission. How could he be sure that you were alright? What if you got yourself hurt? What if your means of transportation were somehow cut off or you got in an accident?

It was day nineteen since your leave. He made sure to keep count. Akutagawa was laying in bed, hugging a pillow and silently cursing himself for being so pathetic in that very moment. The room was quiet. Suddenly, the unlocking of a door was heard. He arose from his position on the bed and moved towards the front door. There you were, dragging your suitcase inside. He greeted you as per usual. It was hard for him to admit how much he had missed you, and he'd feel too embarrassed to jump into your embrace too quickly. However, he couldn't deny you when you ran to hug him as soon as you saw him. In fact, he couldn't help but silently utter the words "I've missed you."

You could barely hear him, and you asked him to repeat himself. You looked at him as he attempted to avoid eye contact with you, a light pink blush began to cover his pale face.

"I've missed you so much," he repeated, this time louder. His calm and collected facade was almost lost.

You giggled at his coy attitude.

Fast forward to the morning of the following day, the two of you were off duty. You woke up to find Akutagawa's arm wrapped around your waist. Usually, he'd be more distant and, at most, hold your hand while asleep. You couldn't complain. After all, it was always a pleasure to cuddle with him.

Soon enough, he opened his dark eyes and whispered, "Good morning" to you. This time, he chose to act as if being so clingy was completely normal for him. He didn't pull away from you, nor did he comment anything about it. Your boyfriend just snuggled closer to you, closing his eyes again and even planting a few soft kisses on the back of your head.

"I'm glad you've returned home unharmed," he commented, breaking the temporary silence.

You got shivers down your spine from his breath hitting the back of your neck. You smiled, your chest feeling warm and fuzzy. You knew that despite his aloofness, deep down, he cared a lot for you. Moments like those would remind you of his true love for you.

"You said that yesterday," you reminded him.

"I can recall that. I just want to make sure you know how much you mean to me." As his sentence progressed, his words got quieter and quieter. He spoke softly, a bit shy to admit that, yet he didn't fail in making you feel loved and appreciated.

"Would you like me to make you breakfast? I'm sure you've also missed the meals I make you, no?" you proposed this idea to him.

"You're right, my dear. However, I do not wish to end this pleasant morning just now. Let's stay in bed a little longer," he requested.

Closing your eyes, you let Akutagawa continue to shower you with his affection.

[imagineakatsuki]

Hello! I've also been in the fandom for a decade and only just returned. I have a naruto blog @immoralimmortals and a fic I've been writing based on using the Akatsuki as dolls in my head the past several years. It's about a self made musician reader/self insert/ OC type of character who is whimsical to a fault meeting the Akatsuki. With that prompt, how do you think they'd react?

(PS: you do God's work, ty so much)

Pein/Nagato and Kisame will indulge their whimsical pursuits. They find it cute because it reminds them almost of a child (especially if the character is years younger than them). Kisame will tease them about it, but both find it to be ultimately harmless.

Deidara and Hidan like their whimsical attitude since they are free spirits themselves. If there was ever anything that the character would want to do, they’d probably be down to do it (or encourage the craziness even). Obito would also like their whimsy (though he’s more psychotic than truly whimsical) until it starts getting in the way of his plans.

Sasori, Konan, and Itachi are interested in the art (music) that they make. If it’s to their tastes, these three would probably hang around the character just to listen. Sasori and Konan may take inspiration from it for their own art, while Itachi would just appreciate the music since he finds it soothing/calming.

Kakuzu does not like whimsical personalities because it reminds him too much of Hidan. He finds it annoying to have to deal with someone who is prone to flights of fancy because he has a one-track mind when it comes to his goals and can be very stubborn.

Zetsu doesn’t really understand what’s going on with them half of the time, but they don’t mind going along with whatever the character wants to do. If it benefits them, even better. If not, he’ll try to distract them or change their mind (which shouldn’t be too hard to do, especially for a master manipulator like him).

Admin S

[bigdumbbambieyes]

deeeeeevious >:)

feeling very creative tonight can you tell much love <3 <3 <3 also this is such a cute idea 🥺 ty for doing it, love and appreciate your writing very much 🥰

omg yesss i love this word thank u kfnfkfn and omg you’re so welcome!! thank you for sending me a word prompt!

“She looks devious.”

Steve glances over to the doorway of his bedroom and spots Buttercup there, the small cat sitting just at the entrance, watching them with sharp green eyes and a curling tail.

He hums in agreement and looks down at where Billy is snuggled into his side, admiring the freckles across his boyfriend’s nose because his hair is pulled back and Steve can see them clearly like this. “She does,” he agrees, his eyes going back to the TV across from his bed. They’d just set it up together earlier that afternoon and had been marathoning movies ever since.

“Maybe she’s jealous.” Billy murmurs, pressing his cheek to Steve’s chest.

“Of me or you?” Steve hums with a smirk.

“Of me, obviously,” Billy huffs, “She likes me more.”

“She’s my cat.”

“She’s a Harrington, she doesn’t belong to anyone. Except me. Just like you.”

Steve smirks at that because he knows that his boyfriend is possessive, and it’s funny that he would extend that to the Harrington house cat. He loves Buttercup, obviously, but he’s never felt like she was his alone. She belongs to the family.

And obviously that extends to Billy because why wouldn’t it?

“Invite her over, then,” Steve hums, lifts his hand to gently pull at the elastic in Billy’s hair to loosen his bun so he can rub at his boyfriend’s scalp and play with those curls.

Billy makes a silly sound with his mouth because he doesn’t know how to call a cat but Buttercup comes over anyway, jumps up to the bed quietly and makes her way to settle in between them, her little paw placed on Billy’s arm possessively as she glances up at Steve.

He smiles down at her and smoothes his palm over the top of her head lovingly.

[starflungwaddledee]

Hey star! Me again! How does your starstruck shipganza work? Do we just submit an OC to ship with Starstruck? I'm very much a dumb dumb so I don't know lel

hello boa!! great to hear from you!!

and omg nonono you're not being dumb or anything, i was pretty vague about this previously and only kinda mentioned it off-hand in tags. the idea behind the shipaganza is to help me explore some different dynamics (more or less romantic) with starstruck to see how i feel about shipping her as a whole, and so i was admittedly pretty nervous and wiffle-waffley about it overall.

but if it helps, i am allowing both canon suggestions and OC suggestions for the starstruck dee shipaganza! now that it's a full 'event' i should be more transparent, so here's a few rules!

🎀 any suggested characters must be adults in a suitable age bracket. this goes for OCs and canon characters. consider starstruck dee to be in the 25-35 age range; i think she could smooch into an older bracket, but i would not go younger than this. 🎀 when suggesting OCs, only the creator/owner of the oc can suggest that oc, unless you get clear permission from the creator. if an artist suggests a sona in particular, then for the same reasons as above, i explicitly need the artist to be an adult. 🎀 no nsfw at all. flirty characters are great. bullies are fun (something tonally similar to the marx prompt, for instance). but i have a hard enough time even making the orbs smooch non-platonically; anything else is clearly going to be out of my ballpark. 🎀 very very few of these prompts are going to be considered canon to starstruck's storyline, and i'll specify any that are (such as bandee's). this is even less likely with OCs, though i might be open to that in the future after the event. this event is just for fun and silliness! 🎀 when suggesting OCs, especially if i don't know you or your oc well, please please give me some info about your oc and why you think they'd work. like, would your oc make a move that starstruck fails to notice? are they accidentally dating? do they share an interest? is your oc a hopeless pining romantic, are they a charmer, are they a bully, so on and so fourth! a link to a reference is also good! try to remember starstruck's characterisation when suggesting as well; remember that it's very important that she doesn't get along great with most waddle dees. otherwise i might have a hard time responding to you! 🎀 also... please don't suggest your ocs just because you want me to draw them. i'll likely take more general/platonic oc interaction prompts in the future. please only suggest an oc for this event if you genuinely think you have a fun potential ship dynamic to explore. i am much more likely to draw canon character prompts and ocs from folks who have interacted with me regularly (such as yourself, boa). i'm fairly aware of my regular interactors and of course my mutuals, so i'll be able to tell if people are just popping up out of the woodwork trying to get free art out of me.

i hope this helps a little and i appreciate your interest!

this sounds like a lot of rules, but it's mostly just things to keep in mind. i'm more flexible with canon character recommendations because there's a bit more to navigate and get right when it comes to OCs, but i'm none the less willing to ty it out! hopefully it's just something fun and silly i can share with folks to celebrate the month!

[beepbananabus]

On your final chapter of gay chicken, you mentioned how you had other works planned for that series. I saw the alternate ch 9+10 (which I will be reading later) and I also saw that you've got bfduo/krii7y in your bookmarks. I was wondering if you've thought about writing a bfduo fic in that universe, cuz I really enjoy your writing and that universe you've created and would love to see your take on their developing dynamic, especially with how observant your kryoz is when it comes to relationships and feelings. Sorry if it feels like I'm pushing this on to you, that is not my intent. I'm just curious and would love to know.

no worries! I love receiving long asks like those and this is very endearing to read. ty for sending it in!

yeah I’d be down to write more krii7y :D I love them sm too and their dynamic is so fun to me with how snarky they are to and with each other. my only problem is that I need to come up with a prompt to write based off them since the thing that compels me to write h2ovan is the internal conflict/homophobia.

with krii7y, it’s different with them being more accepting and playing into the flirtation between them so I will have to learn around that.

(The series I am working on now will have a krii7y arc down the line so you might appreciate that 💖)

[goosewriting]

Mikey with blue prompt 1 and 32, trying to teach the reader how to make cookies but they're uh... Not. That good at it lmao. But they keep trying and it ends with them making a pretty good batch!

Vanilla extract (rottmnt Mikey x reader)

prompt 1: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before.” prompt 32: “Do you take constructive criticism?” “Not without crying.”

summary: Mikey and reader bake cookies together, but reader is really bad at it. 

relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader

warnings: reader being a danger in the kitchen lmao 

word count: 1.2k

A/N: (this one can be read as both platonic or romantic!) as someone who really likes baking cookies, this hurt a little to write XD also enjoy the currently tumblr-relevant little joke höhö

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – – 

Mikey and you had decided to bake cookies, which you had never done before. You had actually never baked anything before, and you weren’t exactly an ace in the kitchen. So he was more than happy to teach you. He even had the recipe book open on the counter so you could check the instructions with him. After all, how hard could it be? 

“First things first” Mikey says, as you both finish tying your aprons. “We need to measure all the ingredients.”

And that’s when disaster already hit.

You had never really handled flour before, so you flipped the package over with a little too much force, causing a lot of flour to spill onto the counter instead of into the measuring cup. Mikey was quick to tell you it wasn’t a big deal, and wiped the surface with a damp cloth, instructing you to either go slower or use a big spoon to get the powder out bit by bit. 

After the dry ingredients were all measured and standing on the counter in their individual bowls, it was time to mix them up. You remembered Mikey mentioning that the dry and the wet ingredients had to be mixed separately first before combining them. So you grab the sugar and are about to pour it into the flour, when Mikey stops you.

“It’s actually better to mix up the sugar with the butter” he points out. “It makes the butter fluffier.”

Now you’re even more confused; how would that even work?

Following the turtle’s instructions, you first mashed up the butter with a fork, then put that and the sugar into the stand mixer. You turned on the machine, but the dials were opposite of how you thought, so you set it to the maximum speed. That not only almost broke the mixer, but it also sent the bowl and its contents flying. You sheepishly cleaned up the mess and measured out more sugar, while Mikey told you not to worry about it for the second time that day.

When the butter was all mixed with the sugar, it was time to add the eggs. You were about to reach out for one when Mikey stepped in and said he’d do it himself. Fidgeting with a spoon in your hands, you watched as he skillfully cracked them open, the yolk and whites falling into the bowl in an almost elegant way that you felt was intended to mock you. He didn’t get a single eggshell piece into the batter either. 

After mixing everything together (now that you knew how to properly operate the stand mixer), Mikey handed you a little bottle that read “vanilla extract”. You opened the bottle, giving it a sniff, and hummed in delight at how good that smelled.

“Hey, look at me” Mikey suddenly said in a serious tone, grabbing you by the shoulders. “One tablespoon, not more. You understand? Just a couple of drops is all it takes.”

You nodded and did as he said, adding only a small spoonful of the thick liquid to the batter. After closing the bottle, you looked at the spoon for probably a second too long, because Mikey snatched it from your hand.

“You don’t want to lick that, trust me” he said with a chuckle. “You’ll regret it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. It smelled so wonderful! Of course you wanted to lick it. It surely tasted just as good right? 

But your plan couldn't come to fruition as Mikey was already starting the next step. He added some chocolate chips, mixed it a little more, then sifted the flour into the batter. He first folded it in with a wooden spatula, then with his hands. 

Taking out the dough, he skillfully kneaded it on the counter, and you wondered how many times he had done this before, he clearly knew what he was doing. With the rolling pin he flattened it all to a cookie-worthy thickness and stepped aside to make place for you.

“Would you do the honours?” he asked, handing you a container with several cookie cutters. 

You squealed in glee at all the cute designs, and chose one in the shape of a sea turtle. Surely this was the easiest, impossible-to-mess-up part, right?

Mikey first observed you with happiness, content that he could teach you something new. But with every passing second, his expression turned to horrified confusion. Somehow, and he still couldn’t understand how, every single piece of dough you had cut out, came out looking like anything other than a turtle. Even when you switched to the regular circular cookie cutter, the cookies you were scooping up from the counter looked like disfigured sad little blobs. Before he could stop himself, he mumbled under his breath.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. You gasped, giving him a hurt look, then looking back at your handiwork in front of you, and you pouted: he was absolutely right. 

“But hey, we came this far!” Mikey tried to comfort you. “They don’t have to look perfect, as long as they taste good; that just means they’re homemade! All that’s left is to bake them.” 

So you did, except that you forgot to set the timer for the cookies in the oven while you were cleaning up the kitchen. You both got distracted talking about a game, and as you were taking out your phone to show it to him, he sniffed the air.

“Say, how much longer on the timer?” Mikey asked and craned his neck over your shoulder to look at the oven in horror.

“Whoops” is all that you managed to answer, before you both rushed to save whatever you could of your precious baked goods. Mikey quickly slipped the oven mitts over his hands and opened the glass door, a concerning cloud of smoke erupting from behind it. Taking the baking tray and placing it on the stove, you both stood silently before it, staring at the practically carbonised little blobs on it. 

“Hey, it’s fine~” Mikey suddenly said, one arm over your shoulder while his other reached out to grab a cookie. You couldn’t stop him in time, as he had already popped one in his mouth. The crunching that came from his chewing mouth was as concerning as it was horrifying. You could only watch in shock as he actually gulped it down.

“Hmm” he sighed, rubbing his chin in thought. “Do you take constructive criticism?” 

“Not without crying” you answered, and your shoulders slumped. How could you mess this up so badly?

Mikey chuckled and pulled you in for a hug, giving your cheek a little peck, which made you feel a little better. He then suggested making a new batch, but this time he made sure to give you more detailed instructions and guide you through every step. That new batch actually turned out really well, and you enjoyed your well-deserved prize with some hot chocolate.

– – –

Bonus: 

You were sitting at the table with the rest of the turtles, all eating your cookies and complimenting you on how good they had turned out, when you remembered something. Excusing yourself for a second to go get more hot chocolate, you stepped back into the kitchen, and reached for the vanilla extract bottle. You gave it another whiff, enjoying the smell, and poured some drops onto a spoon. As soon as you put it in your mouth however, you immediately regretted it. Mikey was right: this tasted awful. Going “Ew! How?!” followed by coughing, you heard a laugh from the other room, and Mikey’s voice: “I told you so!”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @xnorthstar3x

[745voiceofthepeople]

Hello, @745voiceofthepeople !!!! Since I’m finally getting around to writing your amazing prompt I thought I should send one to you as well.

A high school AU where Azula is your typical snobby rich girl who is always spending daddy’s money, drives the best car and is always decked out in jewelry, the most expensive clothes, etc. Katara has an after school job, two actually, drives to school with her brother in a run down old car that’s seconds away from breaking down, and wears clothes until they are about to turn into dust. The two are aware that the other exists, but not much beyond that.

Then, one day, while she’s driving home from a job, Katara sees police cars and ambulances driving through the street. She ignores it until she hears that Ozai, some rich CEO in their town or something, had a freak accident and died. According to Suki, who’s pretty good friends with Ty Lee, Azula and Zuko, still being minors, were sent to live with their mother, who is very much not as rich as Ozai.

For a few weeks, Katara just watches Azula from the sidelines as she has to sell her car, clothes, jewelry, and anything else she got from Ozai to make ends meet. Katara ends up buying a pair of her earrings and gives it back to her as a kind of peace offering, feeling bad for her. That’s what gets the ball rolling and gets the two talking more and more. They’re not dating but they’ve become friends now.

Then, during some party, Katara sees Azula getting basically harassed by Chan and his friends for not being rich anymore. Azula had to take a job and Chan starts sharing around pictures of her. The final straw is when Chan loudly yells that no one will want her now that she’s poor. Seeing that Azula is either about to cry or smash something into his skull, Katara steps in and says she wants Azula then kisses her, loudly proclaiming that they’re dating.

Thus begins a long con of Azutara fake dating and slowly developing real feelings for one another.

I really like this idea @waterfire1848 !!!

Sorry for taking a while to answer, finals prep is kicking my behind.

Before Ozai’s accident, I can see Azula and Katara simply casually passing each other in the halls. What With their social circles simply not interacting all that much. With the notable exception of Suki of course.

There are moments when Azula and Katara have wandering eyes. Appreciating the other girls beauty, her wit, and her personality. Of course neither Azula or Katara dares to act on these feelings. These crushes. And so they continue to pass one another in the halls. With Katara giving lingering glances at Azula. When she thought the other girl was noticing.

I wonder if Azula and Zuko’s inheritance from Ozai was put into a trust or something secure. Preventing access until they turn eighteen and become legal adults. Or even if he left anything for them at all. I can easily see Ozai being a prick and not allowing either Azula or Zuko to inherit his money.

Ursa must live at least somewhere close by for them to attend the same school. Perhaps Ikem and Kiyi exist in this Au?

I can see Katara’s compassion in buying the earrings. Perhaps that price of jewelry has some sentimental value for Azula? Like say it’s a last gift of a relative (maybe her grandmother Illah) and Katara’s returning of it kick starts their friendship.

Of course, I can also see some sort of conflict existing between them at this moment. While Katara’s actions come from a place of empathy, Azula despises being pitied in any form. And she may the. View Katara giving her back the earrings as a form of pity. Though once this misunderstanding is sorted, Azula and Katara become friends in earnest. Friends with a deep and all consuming (and unspoken) attraction towards one another. But friends nonetheless.

I can also see Azula being completely surprised and probably overwhelmed by Katara’s kindness in this case as well. Having grown up with Ozai, that kindness is probably foreign to her.

Azula and Katara become close friends after the earring affair. With Azula joining in on Katara’s friends group (the Gaang). I can see that being slow goings at first though. With Azula gradually making friends as she begins to cope with their situation.

I don’t know what exact job Azula would get to bring a supplemental income to Ursa’s household. In a modern Au… I can history see being a librarian of some sort. Perhaps an assistants job at a local library? Or perhaps Azula’s circumstance would force to do some sort manual labor. Which she would hate at first, but frowns to love eventually. Maybe she gets some sort of fishing/boating job with Hakoda. Azula working for her (future) girlfriend’s dad is bound be a most humorous aspect of life.

Azutara falling in love while fake dating is a concept that I’m in love with myself!

I think Azula and Katara would initially decide to keep up the rise for a month or so. But end up falling for each other along the way. Of course, neither confessed their feelings at first. Believing that the other is still just pretending/could never truly love them. Until their friend group, frustrated with constant pining and longing looks, lock the two girls in say a janitors closet. Where theyd both confess that somewhere along the way their (Azula and Katara) feelings developed from pretend to real. From Iron to steel.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

Gimme directors commentary for Two Liars Lying To Eachother please!

its been a while since ive thought about this fic in any capacity lksajdaskdfld lets see if it still holds up! directors commentary for chapter 1, i'll be doing the others separately later :D

Each of his hands was cuffed to one of the table's legs, somewhat restraining his motion. He hated it; he preferred being able to fidget.

autism edgar but this also isnt the sort of autism i tend to see him as having? idk the idea of edgar stimming is very weird to me

That was a somewhat good sign. He took another glance at the large, mirrored wall of the room, which he had no illusions was reflective on the other side. The only question was whether anyone was in the viewing room to catch his knowing glances.

theres an XKCD about how fun it is to occasionally announce "i know you're listening" to an empty room, because if you're wrong nobody will ever know and if you're right it will freak the HELL out of them. thats basically what Mustardseed is doing here.

According to Michael, he had traded himself in to the compound in exchange for catching Mustardseed - for catching me, Edgar thought, smiling faintly.

seamless exposition, me. i had to establish that this Edgar was Mustardseed, but the narration is roughly tied to his view of things, and Mustardseed doesn't think of himself as Mustardseed, just as Edgar, so the narration couldn't call him Mustardseed.

The door swung open and in came Ty Betteridge. He was a few years older than the last time Edgar had seen him, back when he'd killed him inside of Tier Two on the night Base was formed,

...wasn't that Hunter? or did it become Edgar that killed young!Ty in the post-72 timeline? i am confuse

Well, I appreciate making me feel like a criminal after you plucked me out of the middle of my normal day.

hes so bitchy and for what?

If you're worried about unpredictability, why does the cowboy get to roam free? He's been rather hard to keep under control, in my experience.

i wanted to make it clear just how bitter Edgar is towards all members of Base, so of course five seconds into this conversation he tries to fuck Michael over

Ty's grin was somewhat predatory.

this fic is 90% me looking for different ways to describe smiles. Ty and Mustardseed are both very smiley.

They called you OVEdgaR,

i think im the only person who capitalizes ovedgar that way

"With my husband, yeah." Edgar smiled and raised his left hand to show off the simple wedding band. "Mm. Congrats. Mike told me he wasn't married to you, how odd."

I FORGOT HOW DISMISSIVE TY SOUNDED HERE. he cares of course but

Base Mike and Edgar aren't married.

i try to be very precise about the names characters use for each other, because i think its a very quick way to characterize relationships. Mustardseed always refers to them as "Base Mike" and "Base Edgar", while Ty refers to them as just Mike and Edgar, or possibly Mikey and Edgar, depending on context.

"Hm. You're much less trouble than the Mikes; each one of them ties so much into their name. It's a little exhausting keeping track of them, to be honest." "Well, I never really had trouble with it, but I suppose it is easier if you care about him." Edgar smiled like he hadn't just thrown out the barb. Ty laughed. "I care about Mike Walters more than you can imagine, Panther." Ty grinned, waiting to see if Edgar would respond to the pet name. Edgar kept his face neutral and pleasant.

Edgar definitely won that exchange :P its important to me that Edgar feels like he's in control of the conversation even though he very clearly isnt in control of the situation, because that's the vibe he gave off in ep 84.

Moving on… you established a campaign of terror against Mike's base in an attempt to free yourself and your… husband… from their control. Is that right?

Ty is reading these questions off his clipboard and the prompt on it didnt say "husband," it said "OVER Mike." HOWEVER the pause before saying it was something Ty probably did deliberately to keep up his veneer of indifference.

"I'd rather not put Michael through any more undue stress. He's had a hard couple of days, especially with all the strain you've been putting on him."

this is so funny to me, because it IS another barb, but its also sort of Ty trying to guilt-trip Edgar like thats gonna work??? :P

I have a lot of sympathy for Michael too, but as far as I know, he's never had anyone threaten him at gunpoint to stay in Base.

i'll be honest, he probably has. Michael's seen some shit

"I am sorry for your situation, Edgar, I really am. But you do keep pulling me away from the questions, and the sooner we get these done, the sooner we can get you out of those cuffs and moved to your quarters."

this is a very Ty Betteridge thing to say. like yeah, im sorry that YOU keep delaying me from getting you comfortable. hes so...

So he was listening when Michael and I were talking.

reading it back, i feel like i didnt give the audience enough credit. they probably could have picked up on these little jabs and maneuvering tactics without me having to point them out. anyway yes, ty is doing this interview only half for actual information gathering reasons, the other half is just to waste edgars time as a form of basic psychological warfare

Your Base may be rudimentary, but I believe that you are a smart man, Edgar.

i keep pointing out the little jabs and not having much to say about them, but theyre still so good to me. "i know all your friends are stupid but i didnt think you were too"

"Sometimes smart people do dumb things in the heat of passion." "And is that the only reason you made those thirty-two duplicates?" "It's the only reason I'm going to be telling you."

i'll be honest, i have no idea what i was hinting at here. i think canon at one point suggested there might have been an ulterior motive to the Mustardseed escapees, but i didn't make any sort of plan for what that might be. if i had to retroactively justify it, i'd say Mustardseed's future scouting told him that the escapees would be consolidated into MW, and that MW's existence was important to his plans somehow.

"I've got all day, Ty." Edgar smiled across the table, a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

i just ctrl+f'ed and the word "smile" appears 7 times in this 1k word chapter.