#although my room was messy I had a system

[gatheryepens]

Sun, 18.06: pure maths revision :)

Happy happy Sunday all!!! I hope everyone had a fabulous week. My weekend was pretty good, yesterday we went out for a meal to celebrate a birthday and I was wearing these really nice trousers - they were very groovy. The food was really nice, which is always good. Today has been pretty decent, it’s been raining for a good chunk of it which is nice since it beats being constantly warm. Bad thing about today is I was washing a glass, it had a crack in it and I accidentally broke it cutting my thumb as well. Bad news is it looks like a deep cut and it’s my left hand (this is the hand I write with). It really hurts but I’m hoping tomorrow it will fine. I have four exams this week which is going to be rough but I’m so close to finishing so the motivation is there :) .

🎶 Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

[lususnatura]

🎤 🎤 🎤

a song that i associate with my muse meme!

AHH, hey, ramone!! thank you for sending in this prompt :D since you sent in three of the mic's, i shall now be treating you to three songs that make me think of blamore when i hear them / that i associate with it. an explanation of why i chose them will be in the tags <3

hozier - who we are.

icehouse - crazy.

depeche mode - personal jesus.

[valorant-drabbles]

The iso x reader is really good! Alas, a part 3 would be great where they confess or reader's feelings get outed by either yoru or phoenix and gets teased about when reader will tell Iso but he already knows and reciprocates and just wants to hear it directly from them

The long awaited Part 3 of the Iso Saga!

Consider this my belated Christmas Present to all you Iso-Lovers!

~

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Mild Swearing

Gender-Neutral Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Cold Shoulder

Reader x Iso

It had been a fair few months since Iso had officially joined the Protocol, and the two of you were nearly inseparable. Whenever being sent on a mission, if there was a free spot on a team, you'd always try to find excuses to bring the each other along if one was going without the other. To the point that Brimstone had to pull you each aside and gently scold you. You simply can't be on every mission together. What matters is the skillset that is put into each team, not the person specifically.

It was a tad embarrassing being called out by Brimstone like that, and overtime, it was made clear that he wasn't the only one aware of how close you two were. How you and Iso were rarely seen without the other by their side, never too far if they weren't in view. It was almost instinctual, to be nearby.

Far too soon, a few of the other agents started picking up on certain hints that went over even your head, though you saw yourself as rather... aware of how others felt about you, especially after spending however long by their side. For instance, you knew Yoru often had an ego to show off, and acted like he didn't give a shit about anybody; but he would have your back if you were in danger, without a doubt. He'd warp to your side without a second thought. No matter how many times he'd deny it, he'd claim it was a coincidence.

So you were confident that if somebody's feelings towards you changed, you'd catch it. Or, if your own feelings had changed from platonic to... something more.

Boy, were you ever wrong.

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

Sage had stopped by your room to visit, bringing some freshly brewed herbal tea alongside a small plate of biscuits. She'd made a habit of making sure every agent was alright mentally, providing a safe space to vent or talk about feelings without judgement. She felt quite responsible for both the physical state of everyone, as well as their mental state. To put it simply, she was acting as the Protocol's therapist. And she was damn good at it.

Opening your door, you stepped aside to allow Sage entrance to your room. She'd already alerted you of your monthly checkup that day, so you'd made sure to tidy your bedroom as best as possible. She had always given off motherly vibes, so the last thing you wanted was for her to see a messy room on one of the few times she visits.

Sitting down on the floor, Sage sets up her favourite tea set on the short table by your bed, and begins to pour two cups of herbal tea. The tea set was painted with vines and flowers, giving off some Skye vibes. Perhaps it was a gift from her?

You sit yourself across from Sage, sitting on your legs comfortably as you reach for one of the cups, perhaps adding a little sugar to the warm liquid before settling into a more... relaxed mindset.

"So." Sage had started, hands wrapped delicately around her own teacup. "I see you and Iso have been progressing very well over the last few months, mm?"

You gave a simple nod. "In combat, we triumph over our opponents with ease. We have a good system going."

"That's wonderful to hear!... although not quite what I meant." She chuckled softly to herself, a warm smile on her face contradicting the confused look you'd given her.

"You've been getting to know Iso on a more personal level, more so than anybody. Which is a little strange, admittedly. Ever since you joined the Protocol, you usually kept to yourself and didn't make many connections with other agents. So I'm very relieved to know you've found somebody in which you can rely on-"

"Hold on." You pipe up to interrupt, eyebrows knitted together in mild confusion. "What are you talking about? Yeah, I spend some time with Iso, but I wouldn't say we're on a personal level. That makes it sound like we're friends." Or more, your thoughts added, but you are swift to dismiss the thought as quickly as it arrived.

Sage took a slow sip of her drink as she let the following silence linger amongst the room, deciding to let it sink in naturally.

Her silence made something click in your head.

"We're friends."

"Mhm." Sage confirmed. "A bit more than that, perhaps. Some of us can't help but notice how rosy your cheeks get when Iso stands a little too close to you. How you two are rarely ever seen apart. And how, aside from me, He is the only one you allow in your room; your safe haven."

Your gaze slowly drops to look at the tea in your cup, seeing your reflection in the mildly rippling liquid, caused by the mild shake of your hands. You'd never really thought you had social habits, and yet... apparently they were blaringly obvious. Giving away hints to something you didn't understand yourself. "What... what does this mean?" You ask slowly, with eyes timidly flicking back up to meet Sage's calming, blue gaze. What she said next hit you like a wall of bricks.

"I believe you are in love, Y/N."

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

Love. Sage told you that you may be in love. It made you shudder. Far too soft of a word. How were you supposed to keep up your reputation amongst your team members? They might all see you as some... lovesick fool! You hated the thought of it. What were you meant to do now...? Well, Sage had advised you to take some time to think about what she'd said, and to get in touch with your feelings. Figure out how you really feel for Iso, and if it dips into being 'love' or not.

After all, Sage didn't know everything. She simply had her theories. Though she did coach you through some ways to self-reflect. Though it did feel somewhat pointless, you indulged her idea, and spent the next few days carefully doing some serious reflection on your feelings and interactions with Iso as of late. And the more you thought on Sage's words, the more that everything kind of... made sense.

You undeniably had feelings for Iso. The two of you working so harmoniously together, and how close you were outside of missions... the way you felt an odd, fluttering feelings in your stomach. The way your cheeks heat up when he casually rests his elbow on your shoulder... these previously unexplainable feelings, suddenly making sense. Clicking together like puzzle pieces.

Step one was complete, you supposed. You were aware of your feelings... now what? What were you meant to do with these feelings now? Surely not... expressing them to Iso?

The mere thought shot a bone-cold chill down your spine. No way were you ready to do anything of the sort.

"Just... act like normal." You coached yourself in the hallway, rubbing your face in an attempt to pull yourself together. "You like Iso, so what? That won't change anything- it shouldn't. I'm sure if you just... keep acting like normal, these ridiculous feelings will eventually go away..."

"Oh, that is rich."

The sudden voice nearly caused you to draw your pistol, if it weren't for your immediate reflex to look before shooting. What a relief, you nearly put a bullet into... the wall?

The next second, you see Yoru casually step out of his portal, removing his oni-styled mask with a faint smirk on his face.

"Yoru, what have I said about spying on me?" You scolded him with a narrowing glare, subconsciously gripping the front of your shirt. The bastard had made it a personal challenge to try and scare you when you were on your own- many times having been stopped by Iso a lot of the time. Iso's reflexes were often very helpful in catching Yoru before he had the chance to startle you. Besides, he seldom actually scared you.

"I wasn't spying about you. I was just trying to get to my room without bumping into anybody, and what happens? I find out some very interesting information..." A wide smirk grew across his face, as the realization quickly dawned on you.

"Listen, you didn't hear anything, got it?" Your voice pitched higher in a mild form of panic, which simply made Yoru's grin grow wider. "Damn. You're down bad, eh?"

Gritting your teeth, you storm closer to the man, preparing to grab him, and give him a thorough threatening- only for Yoru to warp out of your vicinity, a fair few feet away; arms crossed in a taunting way. "Phoenix is gonna get a kick 'outta this. Iso as well, I bet..." He cackled softly to himself, as he casually took a step backwards and fell into another portal, vanishing completely from the hallway.

Frozen in place, your mind had to slowly catch up to the moment of what had just happened. Yoru surely wouldn't spill such a serious secret just for the hell of it... right? Right?

You couldn't trust Yoru to keep his mouth shut. He was going to tell somebody- possibly even Iso if he felt like that much of an asshole. So, with quick steps, you ran towards the commons room, desperately in search of the masked bastard who was about to expose your most precious secret.

After searching what felt like half the headquarters building, you finally managed to find him. He was leaning against the kitchen counter casually, talking to the two people he'd threatened to tell. Phoenix; who wouldn't keep his mouth shut to keep a secret to save his life... and Iso.

By chance, Yoru happened to glance in your direction, keeping his usual smirk on his face as he kept the two men's attention on himself.

"Yeah, can you believe it? I wouldn't have figured if I hadn't been there. Y/N has always been so cold..." Yoru continued to speak as if you weren't there, only making your blood boil faster than before.

"''Ey, I wouldn't say that. They just... like to keep to themselves! Like Omen!... Probably!" Phoenix chimed in to defend you, which would've made you feel a bit better if you weren't on the verge of throwing a chair at Yoru.

"Still, you really heard them say that?" The British man raised a suspicious eyebrow towards Yoru, who simply nodded. "Why would I lie about something like this? It's hilarious."

Finally, Iso seemed to have enough. He made a point to slam down his soda bottle, with his eyes firing daggers in Yoru's direction, causing the other to stiffen ever to slightly, shoulders squared subtly in a sense of defense.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I don't care for your pointless gossip? How old are you, twelve? You truly think I would take your word as fact; especially with such a delicate subject? You truly have no shame, do you?" His voice was as cold as his gaze was, slicing through the thick, tension-filled air that had consumed the room the second the line was crossed.

Yoru struggled to find any kind of defense or escape from the conversation, his gaze quickly moving from you, back to Iso. "H... hah, as if I give a shit what you think. Don't act like you're above all this. Aren't you curious over what Y/N really thinks about you? Behind that cold exterior they put up all the time?"

"They only put it up around people they can't trust, like you. Besides, even if I were to trust your word, I'd rather hear it from Y/N themself." Iso retorted, as he plucked up his soda bottle, making his way back to his room, by the look of it. You felt yourself relax. Thank god; he didn't believe Yoru... and with that scolding Yoru got, you doubted he'd be running his mouth and telling anyone else for awhile, if he knew what was good for him.

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

The next few days came and went. And you were pacing your room, twirling a knife between your fingers as you tried your best to think of how you wanted to progress with the knowledge of your feelings being... somewhat out there. Iso was aware now that it was a possibility, so... what were you meant to do now?

Sage had been there to hear you out when you needed to vent about Yoru's little 'stunt', and promised that he'd be held accountable for his gossiping behavior. All the agents were teammates, so any actions taken to potentially degrade everyone's teamwork would be dealt with and punished accordingly.

She had also assured you that there was absolutely no pressure to confess, even if Iso does know your feelings. Who knows, perhaps this was a one-time crush, and it would go away?

Well, it had already been about a week since you initially found out about these feelings, and they hadn't exactly gotten weaker. In fact, it seemed almost as if they grew stronger by each passing day you spent by Iso's side.

Sage had coached you further, to ask yourself some questions before you made any decisions that may affect you and Iso both. Take a deep breath, collect your thoughts, and ask yourself; Do you truly like Iso romantically?

Looking back on all your adventures and quiet moments with one another... how could you possibly say you didn't? Iso was somebody you felt like you could be honest with. Any chaotic feelings you might have in a single moment can be seemingly vanquished by him simply... being there. Even if you two don't talk to each other, the amount of comfort his presence alone was able to give you was something you felt like you couldn't find anywhere else. And if that wasn't an important staple in a romantic relationship... well, then maybe you were as much of a loner than Yoru had suggested.

But none of that mattered now. You felt oddly confident in your feelings, and now, knowing they were real by your own decision... it felt like you could confess to Iso. It was a bizarre experience; you'd been terrified of the idea of love and romance up until a few days ago. And now... you were actually contemplating a committed relationship with Iso? The thought still made your cheeks warm up with blush. The idea was... nice; welcomed, even.

Now it was just a matter of... figuring out how to actually confess.

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

The day of confessing came a lot faster than you'd expected.

You were often the type to plan things out ahead of time. Pick a day to confess, maybe write a few scripts for yourself so you had options of what to say when the time came... and inevitably hope it would go well. And yet... though you thought you were accounting for every possibility;

When the day came, it was... unexpected, to say the least.

You and Iso were in your room, quietly doing your own things, as the two of you usually do. And yet... today it felt different. It felt like an awkward silence that wouldn't end, no matter how many times you tried to strike up a conversation. The awkward air was indestructible, it felt like.

How were you meant to start an important talk when things are like this?

"So... I heard that Yoru got in trouble with Sage the other day." Iso suddenly spoke up, which very nearly startled you off the bed; but in a firm attempt to act like everything was normal, you stayed in place. You inhaled quietly. You got this.

"Yeah..." You started awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck, struggling to do so much as making eye contact with the other. "I... I thought I heard some arguing in the kitchen awhile back. Guess she dealt with whoever started it." Deciding to play the oblivious card, apparently. Though... did this count as lying? You weren't sure. You just hoped it wouldn't backfire on you in the long run.

"She certainly did deal with the perpetrator." He'd nodded slowly in response, his gaze moving towards you without your knowledge. "... you know, Yoru is pretty terrible at hiding when he's doing something mischievous at the cost of others. That being said; I saw you eavesdropping on us the other day." Iso couldn't hide the slight smile that grew on his face when your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "... I mean, he kept looking in your direction and everything. It was clear someone was there."

You just wanted the ground below you to open up and swallow you whole. So lying was pointless, huh. And Iso knew you were acting off for a reason now. Shit.

"Well... whatever. It makes this whole thing easier then, I guess." You mutter dismissively, keeping your gaze away from Iso's at any cost. Though you couldn't help but be mildly curious to what Iso was looking like in that particular moment. Was he as flustered as you felt? By the knowing tone in his voice, you assumed not.

"Not quite. You know I don't listen to petty gossip." Iso responded rather dryly, raising an eyebrow at you. "And if you were there to hear what he said, then surely you know what my question is going to be."

You just wanted to flee, or hide under your bed. God, this felt humiliating... though maybe it was just because you weren't used to being so emotionally vulnerable. Every word he spoke just felt extra dangerous.

“I hardly heard the whole conversation. I kind of just… turned the corner and saw you three. Besides, you obviously know what Yoru said. Do you really need me to say anything?” You asked hesitantly, your own logic seeming to make less sense by the second; and making you dug yourself deeper into a hole.

You feel Iso place his hand gently on top of your’s. The sudden contact was finally enough to make you turn to look at him, your cheeks not any less red than they already had been. Iso gave a small, reassuring smile to you.

“Yes. Because if it’s true, I want to hear it from you, Y/N. But… only if you want to say it.”

His voice was so… comforting. Holding no judgement nor expectation. He wasn’t going to make you confess that very moment if you weren’t ready; but it was clear he knew your feelings regardless. So… what were you meant to do now? If you put it off for another day, who knows how long it’d take you to get around to confessing.

Your nervous gaze moved to look at your hands, feeling your heart rate pick up by the second. This… this was it. Now or never, you decided. Iso deserved a proper answer.

“I… I have… feelings for you. Sage believes they are… romantic feelings. And I think I agree.” You speak softly, so quietly that if the room hadn’t already been silent, he may not have heard you. You swallow the nervous lump you felt in your throat. “I… do really like you, Iso. And… I’m sorry you had to find out from Yoru first of all people…”

Before you could even think about rambling further with some inane apologies, Iso’s hand had moved to rest on your cheek before you’d realized. It all happened so fast, and yet… ever so slowly, at the same time…

Iso had slowly brought your face closer to his, pausing when you two were mere inches away from each other. He didn’t move further, wanting you to initiate further if this was something you wanted. He truly wasn’t the type to force anything onto anyone…

It admittedly took you a few seconds to realize what he was waiting for… a… a kiss? The thought seemed overwhelming at first- you’d just confessed, and now he was offering to kiss you? Was that his way of saying he felt the same?

Your heart had never beat as fast as it did in that moment. Sure, you were new to the whole… romantic-feelings thing… and by all accounts, you’d probably reject the offer in any other situation… and yet…

In those few lingering moments, with his lips so close to your’s… you couldn’t turn away. Taking all the courage you had within you, you leant forward and gently pressed your lips to Iso’s; though it was a little awkward at first, with your lack of experience.

The kiss merely lasted a few seconds before you’d pulled back, face feeling as red as a cherry. You found it hard to make direct eye contact with Iso for a few moments, before you heard him chuckle slightly.

“For someone who used to be so intimidating… you sure are adorable whenever you’re embarrassed.” He’d hummed innocently. You shot a glare in his direction and punched his arm relatively hard, earning a more genuine laugh from the man.

“I’m sorry- it’s true!” Iso snickered softly as he scooted a bit closer to you, keeping your hands intertwined ever so gently. You’d barely noticed you two had been holding hands for a short while already. “So… was my answer sufficient enough for you, Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow curiously to you, giving you a moment to pause and think.

“Mm… No. I don’t think your answer was clear enough.” You responded, rather deadpan. This gave Iso a genuine feeling of confusion, as you turned towards him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, your face still rather red.

“Perhaps you should give me your answer again… and again.”

The two of you spent the remainder of the evening in each other’s company.

Sage may have had to heal a bruised lip or two the following morning.

[acesgarden]

can you please do a movie Lloyd X reader basically this takes place after the movie so everyone in Ninjago city knows that Lloyd is the green ninja but back to the plot Lloyd is currently going through the Oni and dragon equivalent of puberty so he is growing 2 new arms, horns, Wings and a tail and the reader always visit and Lloyd is starting to feel insecure so the reader shows Lloyd all the messages on her phone and all of them are from there school saying that Lloyd will always be the city green ninja and so on and Lloyd is happy that everyone will accept him and the reader and Lloyd end up cuddling and then garmadon walks in accidentally and processed to embarrass Lloyd in front of the reader and the reader pushes garmadon out of Lloyd room and the reader locks the door so both the reader and Lloyd can have cuddling in peace and the reader says that she loves him no matter what he will look like

Helloooo! I wanna say thank you to who sent in all those requests although i’ve only decided to do two of them ^^’ I still appreciate it!! I am excited to write this one hehe. I’m a sucker for comfort stuff (thought this turned out more like a hurt comfort tbh) so I hope this does the request right! (cause it kinda deviates from the request a bit) I apologize for how long this took to get out. 😭

“In my eyes, you are everything”

Type->

One-Shot

Pairing ->

Movie!Lloyd G. x F!Reader

Warnings ->

Blood mentions, OOC Lloyd(?)

Summary ->

After the events of the movie, Y/n and Lloyd officially get together and often sneak into each other's houses. But one thing Lloyd just so happens to forgets to mention is the fact he has Oni and Dragon blood. And Y/n only finds out when she stumbles upon Lloyd panicking over going through changes. Aka Y/n comforts Lloyd going through Oni/Dragon puberty.

1.7k Words | Masterlist

Footsteps trudged against the pavement of Ninjago city. Today had been a long day for Y/n, but work was always exhausting. What made it worth the wait though was getting to see her best friend and boyfriend, Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon.

Her pace quicken the second she saw that familiar apartment complex. She rushed to the alleyway as soon as she reached it and found the usual fire escape. Rusty as it was the fire escape was surprisingly sound. Climbing past the first…second…third, and finally on the fourth floor.

There wasn’t much to see through the curtains but if Y/n was right.. the window slid open with ease and she climbed in. The room was nice, surprisingly messy but overall organized. She scanned the room even with how familiar it was. Yet there was no sign of Lloyd.

“Must be getting a snack or something..” she mumbled plopping onto his bed starfish style. The feeling of soft sheets let her sink into the familiar mattress sighing contently. She always got jealous of this because seriously?! How does he get one this comfortable!

Y/n stared at the ceiling, more specifically as the spinning fan. The clock ticking in the background producing a rhythmical melody. A minute passed and Y/n got a little curious but stayed still, then another passed, and another. Still remaining comfortable until about five minutes. That’s when She began to worry. Had she misread the texts? Were they supposed to meet at her house?

Rolling over and pulling out her phone to opening their conversation from earlier. And right there, clear as day it confirmed they were in fact supposed to meet at Lloyd’s…but where was he? Y/n concerned shot him a text asking if he was okay and where he was. She put her phone down afterwards resuming staring at the ceiling.

A noise came from the bathroom, like something got knocked over and a pained hiss followed behind it. Worry flooded her systems as she hastily rushed to the bathroom door. Y/n knocked calling out “Lloyd? Is that you?” No answer. “Lloyd” and again there was no answer. So she tried the door handle, unlocked. She peeked in before swinging the door open. There stood Lloyd facing the mirror, hands messing with something on his head, and a box of bandages spilt over on the floor. “Lloyd..” Y/n moved closer but he just turned away like he was ashamed of something. “Whats wrong Lloyd? Are you hurt?” Y/n questioned, her voice soft.

Lloyd turned his head slightly and Y/n places a hand on his shoulder, he turned towards her hesitantly. Finally, as the two stood face to face Y/n cupped the teens cheek looking him over. There was dried blood matted into his hair, on his fingers and under his nails, on his forehead too. Two horns were visibly poking through his hair. And without a second thought he was pulled into a hug, tightly but not to tight either. She could feel his tears soaking her clothes but didn’t care.

Lloyd was gripping her hard, she still did not care, only pulling him closer. his knees felt weak as they both slowly sank to the floor. She rubbed circles into his back and ran fingers through his messy hair. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Y/n asked pulling away now holding Lloyd’s face in her hands. He didn’t say anything at first.

“Puberty..” Lloyd mumbled which led to a slightly confused look forming on her face. “Puberty?” She stated and Lloyd nodded. “Oni…Dragon? Puberty” Lloyd added and Y/n nodded “mmm.” She pushed his hair out of his face, wiping away the tears. “How do you feel right now?”

“Weird and and scared, scared of how people will see me now that not only am I, a Garmadon, but also..a monster.” The last part was spoken softly as he adverted his eyes from her. He didn’t want her to see the forming tears.

“Monster? No no no. Lloyd. You are not a monster. You’re changing and that is okay. I remember this story..The First Spinjitzu Master..he was the mix of Oni and Dragon..right?”

Lloyd nodded, not seeing why that story was relevant.

“and he had two sons, one of them being Garmadon, your father.”

Again, Lloyd nodded starting to catch on.

“It’s because of your heritage is it not then?”

For a third time Lloyd nodded.

“Then there is no reason to call yourself a monster. You should be proud to wear these. A symbol of your heritage and a reminder to yourself and the people that even now there is still a great person protecting them. This realm, and everything you stand for.”

Lloyd glanced back at her, sniffling.

“Mhm… I think we should probably get you cleaned up.” Y/n said referring to the dried up blood. She watched Lloyd awkwardly smiled and nodded. Getting up she looked around the bathroom.

“Sink cabinets.”

“Thanks” Y/n replied crouching down, opening the sink, grabbing an excess cloth before going to damp it with water. Getting on the ground she pushed Lloyd’s hair out of the way again and pressed the cloth to his forehead wiping the blood.

Lloyd hummed as if holding in the pain. “I know, it’ll hurt for a bit..once I get the blood off i’ll need to clean it so it doesn’t get infected.” Y/n explained continuing her work. She finished with his forehead moving on to his fingers and under nails. That was much significantly easier to clean. Y/n turned back to the sink’s cabinets for the med kit, and grabbing rubbing alcohol. “Ok, this will hurt. I’m gonna count to three so brace yourself.” She warned getting the gauze ready.

“Ok, 1, 2, 3” she began to clean the wound as Lloyd hissed trying to pull away. “Moving is only gonna make it worse.” Y/n warned..again.

Lloyd mumbles trying to not move as much.

Y/n finished and dressed the wounds. “How’s that?”

Lloyd nodded, “better thank you..” He watched his girlfriend nod and peck his forehead.

“Cmon, let’s go get comfy.” Y/n pulled up Lloyd and they walked back to the bed to get comfortable, maybe watch a show or something. She plopped down by the top while Lloyd sat at the edge near the bottom. Something was still bothering him it seemed. So she flipped over putting her head in her hands.

“You feeling any better?” Y/n asked.

“not really..” was the reply.

Y/n sat up, “come here.” She patted the place beside her. Her boyfriend moved closer and leaned on her. She pulled him closer. Her fingers brushing through his hair once again.

“I love you Lloyd, nothings ever gonna change that.”

Lloyd nodded “I know that..I love you to, so much. I’m just scared how others will see me” he spoke. “That they will no longer see me as their green ninja..that i’m..” He didn’t finish his statement.

Y/n gave him a look “Lloyd.”

Lloyd continued “different enough to be shammed, that I reflect my father more than my uncle or or the First Spinjitzu Master. I don’t want people to be afraid of me-“

“Lloyd-“

“What if they start being afraid of me!-“

Y/n pecked his lips. “Lloyd!” He just stared at her “You are and will always be this cities green ninja, you are this cities hero, They are not afraid of you, they love you Lloyd.” Y/n cupped her boyfriend’s face.

“You are my hero, you are my favorite person in all of Ninjago, because you are you.” Y/n began pecking his face, starting on his forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, lips. “I love every inch of you. In my eyes, you are everything. You’re my world, heart, and sun. I smile every time you text me, every time I see you, your appearance will never change that.”

“How would you know that?”

Y/n looked confused, “what do you mean?”

“How do you know they don’t hate me.”

Y/n shows him her phone, she had Chirp pulled up. On the trending page were #GreenNinja, #Weloveyougreenninja, #LloydGarmadon, etc. She turned her phone away to click on one of the hashtags and turned it back scrolling through all the chirps. hundreds, thousands, of them about how the cites green ninja and hero. How they love him, congrats on saving the city and many more. That wasn’t all, she pulled the phone away and opened Instabook. Scrolling through hashtags related to him, even showing post from many of the students and school.

“They don’t Lloyd, they love you, as do I. Don’t forget that okay?”

Lloyd stared at her before tackling her in a hug. Causing his girlfriend to giggle, Y/n paused not even realizing till now “you have four arms?”

“…you don’t mind them?” Lloyd asked.

“What? No! they’re awesome! I mean like with four arms just think of all the things you could do, climbing faster, fighting faster! Plussss you can give me more cuddlessss.” Y/n said booping Lloyd’s nose. She pecked him and began to run her fingers through his hair.

They fell into a comfortable silence, just her and Lloyd together. Everything was alright in the world as if it remained only them two. Lloyd falling asleep on her as she falls asleep holding him.

Y/n looked down with a small smile, Lloyd looked half asleep by now. Especially in all this peace and quiet-

The door slammed open.

“Guess I spoke to soon..” mumbled Y/n

Lloyd shot up looking in the direction of the door and groaned plopping back onto Y/n. “Go away dad”

“Oh, did I interrupt something?” Garmadon spoke with a teasing tone and a raised eyebrow.

Lloyd’s face turned red which Y/n got a glimpse of. Burry his face into her more. Y/n just giggled at his response.

“You know you should really lock the door, son” Lloyd groaned “daddd.” All Y/n could do was giggle at this interaction.

Another head peaked through the open doorway. “Honey we should leave the kids alone. Let them have their fun.” Koko, Lloyd’s mom, winked.

“Moooomm not you too!”

Koko laughed. “Okay okay, we’ll leave you alone. Cmon you.” His mom dragged away Garmadon.

“Thanks Mrs. G!” Y/n Yelled out as Lloyd used his elemental power to shut and lock the door.

The two got comfortable again, cuddling up and laughing. Eventually falling asleep together, embracing themselves in each other’s warmth and arms.

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

one week into my 15-week busy period, 14 to go! i say 15 because that gets me to christmas - i always take christmas to new year’s off, not that people usually want tutoring that week anyway - but in reality some of my current 11 students will drop as early as late october (the SHSAT only kid) or early november (the younger kid whose parents are hoping to get it over with), and once december hits the load will lighten week by week. i am very busy due to my unfortunate sudden pressing need to start digitizing my materials, which tragically really does make everything so much better although also has made me realize i probably should invest in an ipad without a cracked screen sooner rather than later, and also because my other freelance gig is in the last legs of its current project and i’m not quite sure when it will start up again, so i’m trying to get a few more hours on that while i can in the remaining time available. including time spent highlighting pdfs on my ipad while catching up on industry, i worked a little over 42 hours this week, which i recognize is normal as a workload but is a lot for me at this stage of my life, lmao (and also, in fairness to me, does not include things like time spent commuting from session to session excluding any time spent working on the train, even though if i had a workday for a Job that started in one place and ended somewhere else i would consider that all part of how much i worked).

i’m a lot less stressed than i was this time last year, partly because i’ve figured out my workflow better, partly because last year i was really trying to second-gig myself out of a tight financial spot which is not the case this year (unless i have really miscalculated things tax-wise… but like i’m pretty sure. lol). in theory i really want to get to being like a week ahead in terms of prep work (the dream is to prep for the next session with a kid the day after i meet them), but in practice it is sunday night and i am going to bed not prepped for monday’s sessions, so… we’ll see. i am sort of cheerfully ignoring most things that are not work but i did have a nice lunch with a friend this week & a nice afternoon at home yesterday & i did work out 5x this week. (i decided to try out a schedule where my fitfluencer of choice’s programmed rest days fall on fridays and sundays and so far it works psychologically very well for me…) a while ago i cleaned my room when it seemed very messy and it only took me about a half hour and i was heartened by that since it seemed like i have enough of a System for stuff now that even the messiest option is really not so bad and thought i might use that as motivation to clean my room more often since it probably won’t really take that long but instead i have mostly used it to feel more peaceful with how messy my room is lol.

[mickeytheticklee]

Not my fault

Ler!Renee Rapp x Lee!Reader

Summary: Renee discovers how your laugh is really like. PS she loves it.

Warning: Tickling, foot tickling, cute shit, this took a minimum of three hours

An: Starting a new series (pls don’t be surprised this is my third rebrand this month I fear) also needed to make this small Renee Rapp short

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you a massage? It’s weird considering your the one who’s been working.”

It was after a concert in Chicago you attended to see your girlfriend perform. It’s the first you’ve seen her in concert due to conflicting schedules. A businesswoman and a rising pop star, both different careers that don’t always call for rest days. For once you two had the night together at a hotel room, where she couldn’t wait to spoil the hell out of you. After the relaxing shower and matching pjs Renee decided to give you a foot massage. Which you don’t get often because of your ultra sensitive feet. It shows when you’re holding in your grunts extra tightly and she’s wondering why you keep moving your feet.

“Does it hurt baby?”, Renee says, hearing you clear your throat whenever her knuckles dinked deep into your soles. It was an extricating, ticklish feeling on your feet, adding to the oil Renee applied to them. Like if she turned back she would definitely see you fighting demons, holding yourself together for a few tickles. Biting your knuckles and slapping on the couch, she knew you were unbearably ticklish. She rather just see you suffer holding in giggles and be oblivious to your struggle.

“It’s good…it’s just ticklish.”, You say, having a few chuckles letting out your system. She didn’t believe you until she looked behind, you fully laying down with your face covered. Face flushed, exhausted from hiding those giggles Renee is desperate to see. All this crazy struggling and your feet weren’t even pinned through Renee’s lap. You can easily set your feet down and she wouldn’t mind, you were just torturing yourself because it was fun.

“You know you can laugh if you want to. I won’t restrict those pretty laughs.”, Renee says, your heart thumping over her messy blonde hair and small specs. Somehow the small reassurance made you into a bigger lee mood. It made you happy, although not as happy when she switched up and stopped the massage tickles. Her long, red nails went down your soles all at once, causing a loud screech to echo in the luxurious room. Her eyes widened, she never heard such a loud noise coming from you. You were normally quiet, even in public spaces or around Renee’s group of friends. If you yelled you usually did it in lowercase. But never THIS loud. It made her want to hear more of this loud laughter you had hidden inside.

She kept raking her fingers on your soles, not forgetting the heels or the toes. From the knees down Renee thinks it’s good ASMR. From the knees up your laugh is high pitched enough to break glass. “AHHHHHQHJAHAHIM GONNA FUCKING GET YOU FOR THIS.”, you laugh, yelling and threatening to start a tickle fight. Renee knew you didn’t have the power to take her down. Guaranteed she was just as ticklish as you, had the same spots, but barely handing simple light feet tickles you were in for a losing game. Plus you bad mouthing her you were definitely getting punished in the next five seconds.

“Really? Let me find some other spots around here that can make you laugh just as loud.”, Renee said, setting your feet down but is ready to attack your upper body. Before you held back and tried getting Renee she was already on top of you, sensing the fear in your eyes. Her fingers already start the countdown to your tummy. You close your eyes, thinking her fingers would magically disappear, expect it’s an inch closer to your tummy.

“Sorry in advance if I burst your eardrums.”, You say as a warning before the tickle fest began.

“Oh sweetie, you can never persuade me to not hear that laugh. Especially if I’ve been begging for it for months.”, Renee says, immediately scribbling your tummy and up the ribs. You laugh uncontrollably, being unable to move from Renee being on top of you. You didn’t mind, you enjoyed the tickling from all the pressure that’s been put on you from work. Somehow being tickled was the missing key from the long term depression.

“EEEEHAHAHAHAHA!!”, Your loud laughter strikes again. It doesn’t bother Renee one bit, I mean she’s a performer loud noises come at her all the time. Besides hearing her fans sing her songs, this is the type of sound she rather hear.

“What happened to you saying you’ll tickle me back? I’m not going that hard on you.”, She was, reaching for your armpits that made it impossible to get her back. Despite your pits being the most ticklish it was your most favorite spot to be tickled. Without being asked you had your arms up for Renee to have free range. It made Renee gush so hard over you whenever you did that. The amount of trust for you to let Renee willingly tickle your armpits until mercy and you still had your arms raised made her content.

A few minutes later she stopped, letting you take a small break. Renee sort of knows your limits before you even say a word. She grabs you some cold water, snuggling you a bit before you decide to continue on to the tickling. The way you were so comfortable and safe with the tickling made you blurt out something Renee didn’t expect.

“Is it weird that I’m insecure about my loud ass laugh?”, You say, thinking it’s a completely normal question to ask.

“Is that why you warned me on your laugh earlier.”, Renee asks, and you nod your head. You drop a piece of childhood lore about how a lot of your friends made fun of your laugh. Said it was too loud or too annoying, so it caused you to portray a fake laughter outside. Which is why you’ve been cautious about your laugh around Renee, up until tonight when the real laugh came out. You were expecting a long lecture, Renee talking about loving all your insecurities no matter what. But actions spoke more than words, and rather she should show you with more tickles on how your laugh means to her.

“WAIT IM NOT REASY HAHAHAHAH!!”, You were in fact ready. You were ready the moment you overshared to Renee. She pulled you into a tickle hug, peppering you with kisses alongside your ear and neck. Your loud laughter came back again, adding a bit extra volume from the side scribbles. Somehow the secret ingredient to your laugh were a good amount of teases and kisses.

“There’s that laugh! I should kiss you more for being so cute!”

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

Squanchy's Terrible Stand-up Phase

Finally, finally, i'm posting this fic that I've had in my WIPs for almost 2 years now 😅 thank you to everyone who submitted an ask for a snippet/commented on them, it helped me get some confidence and motivation to finally finish and post this!

I'm sure the title gives away the time period this is set in 😅 it's some messy unrequited(?) Birdrick with a bit of everything - we've got pining, we've got smut, we've got angst, we've got mating season, we've got a very specific James Acaster reference.

Summary: A mishap during one of Squanchy's stand-up performances gives Rick and Birdperson the chance to act on some feelings. ~6k words.

“Hey everybody, I’m Squanchy! I just flew in from the Andromeda system and, boy, are my arms tired!” 

The short feline’s voice rings out across the room, met with silence from all but two members of the audience, who give awkward, forced laughs. If Squanchy is aware of his friends’ insincerity, he shows no signs of caring, grinning happily and carrying on. 

“Haha, nah, I’m just squanchin’ with you guys. How ‘bout that space-line food, huh? Anyway, I was on my way over here, and I was squanchin’ next to this guy, right, this Zofleepian dude…” 

As he launches into a squanch-heavy spiel, Rick and Birdperson both glance away from the stage and meet each other’s gaze with twin grimaces. Somehow, Squanchy has landed a gig as the warm-up guy for what is apparently a fairly popular act, meaning that the venue is significantly bigger and busier than any he’s performed at before, either doing stand-up or as part of The Flesh Curtains. As such, the two other band members have found themselves seated mostly out of sight and earshot of the stage. Small mercies.

Birdperson turns to Rick and speaks quietly.

“Rick, I realise I am not a comedy expert, but I must admit that Squanchy is… not good at this.”

Rick snorts. “That’s putting it lightly! And how are you just now realising? D-do you not remember any of his other shows?”

“It is true that Squanchy’s stand-up has not been particularly up to standard in the past, but I thought that he would have made some improvement by now.”

Rick makes a show of looking around the room, then turns to Birdperson with a devilish grin and leans in to whisper surreptitiously. 

“Well, you know, it is a pretty big crowd. I don’t think he’d miss us if we snuck out.”

Birdperson's face shifts, subtly, but Rick knows him well enough to recognise it as an expression of disapproval, and feels a flicker of panic and defensiveness start to rise in his chest.

“Rick, Squanchy is our friend. We must support him, even in his flaws, just as we support you in yours.” 

Birdperson’s words sting, and Rick’s guard comes up even more. 

“W-whatever.” he grumbles. “Geez, I was just joking, Pers. D-d-don’t get your feathers in a bunch.”

Rick shifts in his seat so that he’s facing away from Birdperson, crossing his arms over his chest. He feels a gentle touch on his hand, making his breath catch in his throat. Although he’s loath to admit it, even to himself, Rick is developing a serious crush on his ex-bandmate slash roommate slash best friend, and he can’t help but turn back to Birdperson. The other man is looking at him with concern in his serious deep brown eyes.

“Rick, it was not my intention to offend you. However, I do not wish to upset Squanchy by leaving.” 

Birdperson speaks matter-of-factly as ever, but he doesn’t remove his hand from Rick’s. Rick tries to breathe normally, to act as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Despite many, many hookups, he hasn’t felt this way about anyone since Diane, giddy and sappy and in love. He knows how delicate love is, how easily it can break or be taken away, and is acutely aware of the consequences. He’s still angry and bitter and hurting, and he doesn’t know if he could take any more of those feelings that would inevitably come with another relationship. However, he’s been starting to notice small, almost imperceptible changes in Birdperson’s behaviour recently, and it’s becoming increasingly harder to convince himself to ignore them, tell himself he’s reading too much into things, and that anyway it’s not worth the risk of letting himself be vulnerable and getting his heart broken all over again. 

Unfortunately, despite what Rick might like to think about himself, however logical and intelligent and detached he might like to believe himself to be, he knows that he’s a slave to his own emotions. No amount of reasoning or experience can stop the butterflies from swirling furiously in his stomach when he sees Birdperson smile at him, or beat his powerful wings in flight, or emerge glistening from the shower with only a towel concealing his dick from Rick’s longing gaze. 

He hates the fact that Birdperson always manages to sneak past his defences, hates knowing that Birdperson can get away with almost anything because the part of Rick’s brain that’s meant to be in charge of his emotions suddenly forgets all negativity when it comes to BP. There are only two other people Rick has ever known who he could never stay angry with, and both of them are dead. 

He can’t afford to let that happen again, but he’s helpless at the hands of his crush. 

Rick snaps back to the present with a blink. He’s speechless, half because he doesn’t know how to respond without fucking things up, and half because the light touch of his friend’s hand on his is taking up all of the processing power in his brain. Instead of saying anything, he flashes a helpless, almost sheepish smile at Birdperson, who mirrors the expression and moves his hand ever so slightly so that he can squeeze Rick’s hand in his. The feeling is so intense that Rick has to avert his eyes, and he hopes the dimmed lighting above the audience is enough to hide the heat he can feel in his cheeks. 

Luckily for him, it’s not long before a distraction arrives. An audience member, apparently dissatisfied with the stand-up and clearly very inebriated by some sort of illicit substance, stumbles up onto the stage, much to the jeers and cheers of the rest of the audience.

“I can do better than this shit!” he declares. “So, I was at Birding Man last year, and in the tent next to mine, I could hear this couple going at it, you know what I mean? Yeah you do! And the guy goes ‘I’m gonna cum in your pussy’!” 

Squanchy stares on in disbelief, and the noise of the crowd drops instantly into stunned silence, the atmosphere palpably different from moments before. The interrupter seems to panic, and repeats, even louder, “I’m gonna cum in your pussy!”

Still receiving no response, the man suddenly takes drastic action in the form of dropping his pants and starting to masturbate furiously. Almost immediately, the audience roars to life, booing and jeering and shouting. As the room around him devolves into chaos, Rick feels a tug on his hand. He looks to see Birdperson standing up and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. Birdperson makes a hasty retreat amid the pandemonium and Rick follows, neither of them dropping the other’s hand. 

They exit into a foyer, where Rick expects Birdperson to stop. However, he heads for a door, which he opens to reveal a supply closet.

“Let us wait it out in here.” he says simply, and Rick shrugs.

“Eh, sure.” 

They both enter, pulling the door shut behind them. Rick perches on a small table, while Birdperson leans against a wall opposite him. The room is small enough to force them into each other’s personal space, and Rick has to try hard to keep his composure.

“So, uh, what happened to not leaving?” Rick asks, trying to seem casual.

“My main concern was that Squanchy would see us leaving, or otherwise notice our absence. However, I think he should be sufficiently distracted for a while.” 

Birdperson is close enough that Rick can feel the air brush against his face when he speaks. Rick has to stop himself from shivering at the feeling. He focuses so hard on not reacting that he doesn’t notice another, much more visible, sign of his arousal until Birdperson addresses it.

“Is that a gun in your pocket, Rick Sanchez, or are you just happy to see me?” 

His tone is almost exactly the same as always, but Rick can detect the note of cheekiness in it. He quickly crosses his legs and looks away, knowing this time that his blush is definitely visible. His mind and mouth both scramble for an excuse, but before either can form anything even remotely coherent, Birdperson speaks again.

“Rick, if I may be frank, I think that we might be able to help each other out. The truth is, it is approaching mating season for my people, and I am starting to feel the effects of it.”

Rick can’t quite believe his ears. He wants this so badly, and if it was anyone but BP, he wouldn’t hesitate. However, fucking things up with a stranger in a bar is very different to fucking things up with your best friend and roommate, and Rick doesn’t trust himself to read the situation correctly.

“W-w-what’re you sayin’, Pers?”

“If you wish, we should have sex.” Rick stiffens, but Birdperson continues. “During mating season, my people experience greatly heightened libido, and you are clearly in a similar state of arousal, so I believe it would be mutually beneficial.” 

Something about hearing Birdperson state things so simply really turns Rick on. He’s no stranger to directness or dirty talk, yet something about Birdperson’s factual candour sends a jolt of passion through him.  

“Rick, if I have misread the situation or overstepped my boundaries, I apologise. I-” Birdperson’s deep voice snaps Rick out of his reverie and Rick realises how long he must have paused.

“N-n-n-n-no it’s fine! I would love to have sex with you!” he blurts, the words pouring out before he even realises what they are. As soon as he processes what he’s just said, he panics immensely. Goddammit, what is it about this man that turns his brain to mush? Rick’s wildly out of his depth, used to being smooth and suave and confident around his romantic interests. The flustered nervousness is unfamiliar to him, and he has no idea how to act. Without a script, more words hurry out of his mouth. 

“Fuck! I mean, I, uh, I would be happy to help you out! I mean-”

“Rick.” Birdperson interrupts, calmly, quietly, yet assertively enough that Rick instantly falls silent. A brief flicker of arousal passes through his body as his brain readily supplies a fantasy of Birdperson using this exact tone in the bedroom and - no! Not fucking now!

“It seems you are uncomfortable. If I have done anything to cause this, I offer my apologies.”

“No, no, Pers, it’s OK! It’s just, um…” Rick pauses, trying to work out how much he can afford to give away. He takes a deep breath and lets his guard down, just a little. “I-I just… didn’t think you would be interested in me like that.”

“You mean sexually?”

Rick nods, unable to meet Birdperson’s gaze. How is it that he can normally say and hear the most explicit, filthy things without so much as batting an eye, but even the tamest comment from Birdperson has him acting like a schoolboy with his first crush?

“So you feel insecure? Is that the only reason?” 

Birdperson’s statement, combined with his unexpectedly gentle voice, catches Rick off guard. Part of him fights against the vulnerability, coiling defensively in his stomach like a snake, while another longs to relax into the safety of Birdperson’s soothing tone. The maelstrom of thoughts and emotions trick Rick’s brain into allowing the truth to slip out of his mouth before he can even process what the truth is.

“I feel like I’d be… betraying Diane, or, or cheating on her.” 

“Forgive me, Rick, but I do not understand. You have ‘hooked up’ with many people since I have known you. Why is this different?”

Rick panics, not sure how to get out of this situation. His frantic brain can’t cook up any lies, so he settles for a half-truth, omitting as much as he can.

“All those hookups are people I didn’t know or care about. None of them meant anything… it was just sex. We’re… friends.”

“So it is different to have sex with friends?” Birdperson asks. Rick nods, not sure how to elaborate without giving away his feelings. They’re still fresh and raw, and he’s not ready to reveal them yet. Thankfully, Birdperson continues.

“Is this a human concept?”

“Y-yeah, I guess so. I never really thought about it. Humans usually only have casual sex or sex within relationships.” 

Even as he’s saying the words, he knows they’re not strictly true. Plenty of people were friends with benefits - he and Diane with Nimbus, for instance - but he’s found an excuse and he’s too much of a pussy to offer any information that might raise questions. 

Birdperson’s brow furrows as he mulls the concept over. 

“This is interesting. Although I never had any friends on my home planet, I know that it is very common for my people to help relieve their friends during mating season. We have two terms, messoo yabah and messoo sorah - ‘flesh mate’ and ‘spirit mate’. ‘Flesh mate’ is for someone you have sex with - a friend or stranger - and ‘spirit mate’ is for a life partner, with whom you would have children and a soul bond. I had assumed that ‘hook up’ was equivalent to mesoo yabah.”

Rick raises one side of his brow. Birdperson looks so similar to him, it’s easy to forget that he’s not just a human with bird features, but a member of an entirely different species, with different customs and views around things such as sex and relationships. 

“Huh. I guess that makes sense.” 

“Forgive me, Rick, I did not realise that my offer would be out of the ordinary for your species. It seems that we have encountered another cultural difference.”

Rick coughs out a nervous laugh. “Y-yeah.”

They stand in awkward silence for a few moments, the small distance between them only adding to the tension, thickening it so that Rick struggles to breathe. 

Eventually, Birdperson breaks the silence.

“I did not understand the gravity of what I was asking. If you wish, we can simply move on and not mention this ever again.”

A tiny, cowardly part of Rick wants to seize the opportunity to run away from his problems, but the rest of his being is crying out for Birdperson so thoroughly that he knows he’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t take this chance. 

“N-no! Let’s, let’s do it!” Rick cringes at how enthusiastic and awkward he sounds.

“Are you certain? I do not wish to pressure you into anything. I would not have asked had I realised the implications for you.”

“No, Pers, i-it’s OK. I’m not exactly like most humans anyway. Besides, what else are we supposed to do while we’re waiting for this to blow over?” Rick gestures vaguely in the direction of the performance room, where the sounds of struggle are still audible.

“If this is truly something you want, I need to hear you say it.” Birdperson stares intensely into Rick’s eyes. Rick swallows but finds he can’t look away.

“I want this. I want you. Now.”

Almost before Rick can process what’s happening, Birdperson has closed the tiny space between them, one hand squarely in the small of his back, the other arm wrapped around his shoulders, their lips meeting more gently than Rick would have expected. Rick feels his body melt into Birdperson’s touch, the tension leaving his muscles and instead pooling into his growing erection. He kisses back hungrily, fuelled by the months of pining and suppressing his attraction, reaching to wrap his own arms around Birdperson, burying his fingers deep into his friend’s feathers. Birdperson seems to take this as a cue, pulling Rick even closer to him and allowing his lips to fall apart to make way for Rick’s eager tongue. 

Rick feels Birdperson’s hand trail down to rest on his hip and squeeze his ass. The touch coaxes a gasp from his mouth and Birdperson pulls back. Rick’s brain protests the loss of sensation, a low whine spilling out.

“Is this acceptable?” Birdperson murmurs, his eyes inquisitive and caring.

“Yes, God, yes, Pers, please.”

That’s all the confirmation Birdperson needs to swallow Rick’s mouth up with his own once again. Rick digs his fingers deeper into Birdperson’s plumage and is rewarded with a shaky exhale directly into his own mouth. Feeling the consequences of his own actions sends yet more blood coursing downwards and he can’t help but push his crotch against Birdperson’s hip at the sensation. As he does, he feels Birdperson’s boner pressing into his thigh and his own cock throbs in response.

Birdperson lets his hand drift even further down, claws brushing tantalisingly against Rick’s inner thigh. He’s careful not to cause any actual damage, but Rick is so desperate for more that it feels like torture anyway. 

Rick has to pull his mouth away to breathe, panting as though he were the one in heat, but keeps their bodies as close to each other as possible.

“Pers, please, I need you to take me.” he moans.

“You want me to fuck you?” Birdperson is so straightforward it’s almost unbearable.

“Yes, God, yes!”

“Do you have lube?”

“In my-in my wallet.” Rick moans, fighting to get the words out as Birdperson’s claws still caress his delicate skin.    

Birdperson removes the stimulating hand to retrieve the lube from Rick’s jean pocket, letting his mouth suck Rick’s neck with such primal abandon he could just as well be devouring the flesh instead of kissing it. The sensation only heightens the burning ache that Birdperson’s hand is no longer satisfying and Rick could almost cry with need. In desperation, he reaches his own hand down to stroke his dick.

Birdperson places his hand firmly on Rick’s shoulder and turns him around, bending him forward over the desk. His clawed hands come forward to rest on Rick’s belt buckle.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, the words tickling their way down Rick’s neck.

“Yes!”

Birdperson’s hands undo the buckle agonisingly slowly before finally pulling Rick’s jeans down to expose his bare ass. Rick hears the sounds of Birdperson tearing open the packet of lube and applying it to his own dick. As he does so, he keeps his lips next to Rick’s ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and mutters,

“Do you know how often I have fantasised about doing this? Whenever I am behind you during a performance, or in the kitchen, and I see these jeans clinging to you, all I can think about is pulling them down and bending you over the table.”

A distant part of Rick’s brain is surprised by this information, but horniness takes over as Birdperson’s comment riles him up so much that he writhes with impatience.

All of a sudden, strong hands, one still slippery with lube, grab his hips, stilling their motion. A breath stutters its way from Rick’s lungs and his brain short-circuits and he thinks for a second he might come from that alone. Just when he thinks he’s reached the peak of pleasure, a finger probes its way into his entrance, the claw retracted.

“Oh god, please, more.” He’s not sure if the words are even comprehensible, pulled from his mouth by Birdperson’s stroking finger. More sounds that could be words or could just as easily be mindless gasps of pleasure spill out, begging for more.

Rick’s moans become a whine as he feels the finger retreat, only to change back to a cry as he finally feels Birdperson’s cock inside him. He gasps until he feels like his lungs will burst, letting the air out in a series of moans as Birdperson begins to thrust. Rick’s fingers curl around the edge of the desk until his knuckles go white. Birdperson’s hands are on his hips again, his claws pricking against Rick’s skin in a way that feels so good, the pain mixing with the pleasure like the delicious contrast of salt against sweetness.

All Rick’s aware of is hands on his hips, dick inside him, both of them belonging to Birdperson. The sensations build and build until they breach the barrier, overwhelming his brain and body in a flood of endorphins. Rick’s legs shake so violently that he collapses into the table, warmth shooting from the end of his cock. He cries out, held aloft by a cloud of pleasure, his orgasm tingling throughout his body. Distantly, he’s aware of Birdperson coming inside him with an animalistic cry, and he wants to commit the experience to memory forever, but the thought quickly slips from his grasp, lost to the haze of his climax.

After what could be a second or a decade, Birdperson withdraws, leaving Rick with a vague feeling of emptiness.

“Are you alright?” he asks, still breathless. Rick nods, his own breathing heavy and rapid. Birdperson turns Rick over with incredible gentleness and brushes his hair from his sweaty forehead, his hand coming to rest in Rick’s hair. Rick feels his heart evaporate in his chest.

Birdperson rests his forehead against Rick’s, their hot breath coasting over each other’s skin. Despite what they’ve just done, Rick can’t help but feel shy at this level of intimacy. At the same time, he never wants it to end. 

Regrettably, it does.

“We should clean up.” Birdperson states, his tone so businesslike that Rick gets a sinking feeling that this didn’t mean as much to Birdperson as it did to him.

Rick gestures vaguely, his overloaded brain taking a few seconds to find the words. “Wipes… in my wallet.”

Birdperson retrieves them, a small smile gracing his face. “You really are prepared for every situation.” 

Rick wants to retort with his signature snark and perhaps just a touch of flirtatiousness, but he can’t conjure up anything, instead letting his mouth curve into what he’s sure is a ridiculous lovestruck grin.

He’s almost disappointed when Birdperson hands him a wipe instead of cleaning Rick up himself, but he tries to bring his mind back to reality. It’s probably a good thing for him to do this himself, instead of allowing himself to become dependent on someone else. They clean themselves - and the desk - up in silence.

Birdperson clears his throat. “We should hydrate. I will locate water.”

He adjusts his clothing so that he’s decent - much easier when your only garment is a skirt - and exits the room, presumably in search of the aforementioned water. Rick realises that he should do the same, and wrangles his orgasm-weakened body back into his jeans before lowering himself to the floor and leaning against the wall.

After a few minutes, Birdperson returns with bottled water, a tray of fancy-looking hors d'oeuvres, and a mischievous smirk.

Rick raises one side of his brow. “Where exactly did you find this?”

Birdperson rests the tray on the desk and removes the lid from the bottle. 

“I may have liberated them from a nearby Witi Fri.” he raises the bottle to his lips and takes a swig before offering it to Rick.

Rick takes the bottle with a grin, revelling in the moments Birdperson’s rebellious side shines through, contrasting with his apparently straight-laced persona. Witi Fris - disgustingly extravagant displays of wealth - are held by Tt’orees, just the sort of people who deserve to be relieved of some of their fancy party snacks. Rick drinks eagerly, the water blessing his parched throat, trying not to think too hard about his lips resting where Birdperson’s had only moments earlier.

Birdperson picks up the tray once again and sits down next to Rick, the enclosed space forcing them close together. Birdperson swings an arm around Rick, making him almost choke on the water he’s swallowing. He rests the tray across both their laps and picks up one of the snacks, popping it into his mouth in a way that Rick swears is flirtatious. He stares dumbly for a few seconds until Birdperson nudges him.

“While I have no objection to eating this entire platter myself, social norms dictate that I am obliged to share.”

Rick smiles shakily before handing the bottle back to Birdperson and taking one of the hors d’oeuvres, some sort of tart filled with veiny purple leaves and a bitty grey substance. It wouldn’t seem appetising to most humans, but Rick is familiar enough with alien foods that it doesn’t bother him. He places it into his mouth and finds it to be wonderfully umami with just a hint of sweetness. The taste breaks his appetite and he finds himself shovelling down more, not stopping until he hears a faint chuckle next to him. 

Rick’s eyes flicker across guiltily to Birdperson, realising he’s eaten most of the tray already.

“Whoops.” he mumbles flatly, dropping his gaze to his lap. Birdperson’s hand squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

After a few moments, Rick feels Birdperson’s gaze burning into him in a way he can’t ignore. When he turns to face Birdperson, his friend is wearing a concerned expression and Rick knows exactly what’s coming.

“Rick.” Birdperson begins in his serious manner. “Now that our physical needs have been taken care of, are you alright… emotionally?”

Rick stares into Birdperson’s eyes, the eyes of someone who can penetrate through any walls or facades he puts up, eyes full of care. Even though he’d been steeling himself for the question, something about the tenderness in Birdperson’s expression breaks him. A strangled sob chokes its way from his throat before he can stop it. His hand flies up to cover his mouth, too late to hide the outburst of emotion. Rick frantically tries to pull himself together but the floodgates have been opened and there’s no way he can push them shut again until the raging tide has calmed. He feels Birdperson wrap his other arm around him and buries his head in his friend’s shoulder to spare himself at least the embarrassment of Birdperson seeing his face as he breaks down.

Birdperson holds Rick tightly, one hand reaching up to stroke his hair gently. Rick feels his body spasm with sobs that wrench themselves from his lungs, hyper-aware of the tears and snot making a humiliating mess of his face. Birdperson makes a strange, melodic cooing sound, something from his native language that Rick doesn’t have a hope of understanding but can assume is meant to be reassuring. 

Eventually, his body begins to tire itself out, and Birdperson’s repetition soothes his brain. Rick sniffles and takes a deep breath.

“I just… I miss her so much, Pers.” his voice is thick with emotion, and he cringes at its sound. “I’m meant to be out here finding her killer, finding Beth’s killer, but I can’t do it. I know I can’t do it, so I try to numb myself, with alcohol, and drugs, and sex, but it doesn’t work, a-and other times it works too well and all I can think is what a monster I am for having a good time when my daughter is dead.” Rick’s breath hitches dangerously on the final word and he has to fight to keep from collapsing back into sobs again.

Birdperson’s repetitive coo changes into another phrase from his language, before he switches back to common.

“Rick, I am sorry. I could tell you that you do not need to feel guilty, that it is not your fault, that your revenge will not bring them back, but I know that this is not what you want to hear. I know that it is not what I would want to hear. I can only offer my comfort and solidarity in having something taken from you that you can never get back. Even if our rebellion against the Gromflomites succeeds, it will not bring back all the people and culture lost to their invasion. It will not bring back my parents. But I still intend to, as you say, ’kick their insect asses’.”

A harsh, tearful laugh breaks through Rick’s sadness for a moment. Rick clutches onto Birdperson, the pain still stabbing through his chest, puncturing his lungs and snagging his breathing, feeling the slightest relief and appreciation for his friend knowing him well enough not to offer meaningless platitudes. He takes some small solace in their shared pain.

Birdperson continues to hold Rick, his digits stroking gentle, comforting patterns into Rick’s back and scalp, until Rick pulls back, scrubbing furiously at his streaming eyes and nose.

“Fuck.” he whispers, pulling his hands down his face and flicking away tears. He clears his throat roughly. “OK. I’m good.”

Birdperson squeezes Rick’s shoulder. “We do not have to return if you do not wish to.”

The offer is tempting, but Rick knows that he can’t hide here forever. 

“No, i-it’s OK. We’d better get back before Squanchy notices we’re missing.” he pauses, then adds, “But maybe I should find a bathroom first.”

Luckily, there’s a bathroom just around the corner. Birdperson waits while Rick blows his nose and splashes water on his face before they make their way back to the performance hall. Rick feels exhausted, but Birdperson’s reassuring touches and smiles give him just enough energy to force himself to carry on. 

Thankfully, they manage to slip back into their seats without being noticed. Somehow, the crisis has resolved itself and Squanchy is now back to performing his terrible routine. Rick’s hazy brain manages to clock the jokes as being near the end of the routine and he sends a silent prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that he doesn’t have to deal with more standup on top of everything else.

Mercifully soon, Squanchy’s routine ends, and the host comes onstage to announce the main act. Squanchy leaves the stage and joins them, a huge grin on his face.

“I think that went pretty well!” he whispers to them.

Rick and Birdperson exchange a brief incredulous look, but offer encouraging smiles anyway.

Neither of them are particularly interested in seeing the main act, and Squanchy’s lashing tail betrays his burning need to talk about his performance, so they get up and leave. Rick remains mostly quiet for the walk back, allowing Squanchy to fill the air with excited ramblings about the evening.

When they make it back home, Squanchy decides to celebrate by - to no one’s surprise - getting high. Rick retires to bed but, despite the exhaustion plaguing his mind and body, fails to sleep, his mind preoccupied with trying to process the evening’s events. At one point, he hears Birdperson’s footsteps approaching and his heart soars at the thought of Birdperson coming to his room. Before he can smother the feeling, he hears Birdperson’s door open and shut, the sound reverberating through his abdomen like a punch. 

Idiot. 

He should’ve known not to get his hopes up, but he had anyway. He rolls out of bed and sits at his desk, pulling out his latest project. He stares blankly for a few minutes before trying to tinker with it, but quickly pushes it away in frustration. Another few minutes pass before he hauls himself out of the chair and wanders into the living room to find Squanchy draped across the top of the couch.

Squanchy slurs something that Rick assumes is a greeting and holds out a zazzle worm in offering. Rick accepts and collapses into the sofa before taking a hit. He glances to the TV, which is playing some sort of documentary in a language that neither of them speak. Squanchy is entranced anyway, giggling and lazily batting a paw in its direction. Rick takes another hit, closing his eyes and letting the waves of inebriation wash over him. When he next opens them, he notices the swirling colours of the TV. The alien sounds of the narration vibrate his ears and tickle his brain. The couch cushions, notoriously uncomfortable and hard, soften like clouds as they allow his body to sink into them.

When he comes to, it’s with a pounding in his head and a weight on his chest. He hears a groan that sounds just like he feels, and forces his eyes open to see Squanchy curled up on top of him, Rick’s own body sprawled across the couch.

Rick tries to sit up and Squanchy falls to the floor with a yelp.

“S-sorry, man.” Rick groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. Squanchy blinks, his eyelids drooping.  

Gradually, the two of them haul themselves to their feet, fumbling through cupboards in search of painkillers. Eventually, Squanchy finds some while Rick identifies the glass that looks least like a biohazard from the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and fills it with water. They take turns swallowing the much needed pills. 

Rick begins to stumble in the direction of his room. After only a few steps, he gives up and collapses back onto the sofa. He feels Squanchy clamber up to join him, settling across the back of the couch. Thankfully, the grogginess doesn’t take long to pull him back into blissful unconsciousness.

The front door slams and Rick shoots awake.

He hears a voice in the hallway, unfamiliar but distinctly feminine. He glances up to see Squanchy still passed out, drooling and twitching, and feels his heart begin to sink. Laughter rings out, a high-pitched giggle and a deep rumbling. 

Birdperson’s door opens and shuts. Rick squeezes his eyes shut and flinches as the sound seems to reverberate through his entire body.

All of a sudden, he’s upright and marching towards the front door, his vision still swinging slightly from the hangover. His heart pounds and burns in his chest. The door slams shut behind him.

Rick thunders his way down the stairs, the sound echoing in his head. From the countless times he’s been disturbed by others doing just that, he’s sure that everyone else in the building can hear it too. Good. Serves them right for doing the same to him.

He exits the apartment building and heads for the bar on the corner. Barely halfway there, he’s stopped by an alien.

“Excuse me, sir. Have you heard the message of G’gxzhgar?”

Rick whips round to face the insectoid, their exoskeleton covered in the telltale grey fur of  criscipiticae gxzhgaris, so named for the god its hosts inevitably begin to worship. He’s always thought of religion like this, an infection that spreads from person to person and takes over their brain, but this is that concept in its most literal form. Its victims have no control over its effect once the root takes hold, no way to see that they are being brainwashed by a fungus. They’re helpless, innocent. It isn’t their fault.

“I don’t give a fuck!” Rick snaps. “Your god is a-is a fucking disease! It just wants you to spread it to as many people as possible so it can eat you from the inside and you fucking deserve it for being so fucking stupid!”

The alien steps back in shock. Rick’s suddenly aware of his rapid breathing, of all the eyes judging him for shouting at the alien equivalent of a leper.

“Y-y-you think you’re better than me? If you don’t say anything, you’re just as sick as this guy!”

He storms off before any member of the crowd can recover enough to retaliate and barges into the bar. As soon as he sits down, a drink is placed in front of him; the bartender knows him well enough. Rick downs the glass and slides it back to be refilled, perhaps with more force than necessary. 

The alcohol burns his dry mouth and empty stomach, but he chokes it down anyway. He needs something to drown out the thoughts beginning to swirl inside his head.

It’s not until he’s downing his fourth drink that he finally begins to feel the blessed, dizzy pull of inebriation. His head throbs in protest as he continues to drink, fighting the urge to close his eyes.

Eventually, when his thoughts reach the desired incoherency and his head becomes too heavy to hold up any longer, he allows it to rest on the bar. A puddle of spilled alcohol sticks his cheek to the wood. He’s too drunk to care.

His eyes scan the rest of the bar for the first time since arriving. In every direction he looks, he sees couples flirting, kissing, interlocking tentacles.

He’s too drunk to care.

[delicatelypearl]

With classes starting up again just around the corner, here are some tips to make sure you have a great semester/year! 📓🦢🩷✏️

🎀 Start by starting new. Think of this semester and school year as a fresh start - because that’s what it is! Let go of the past and turn over a new leaf. Really embrace the fact that this is a new school year! This can be mentally, psychically, and emotionally! I get more into it later on in this post!

🎀 Pick out your own school supplies!Having supplies you like really helps to keep you motivated. For example, most people forget to use their planners, but if you find a planner you really like, you’re more likely to keep up with using it! For my college girlies, I know many school supplies aren’t as necessary, but small things like cute notebooks, nice pens, and a laptop case can help with your entire vibe!

🎀 Before school starts, clean your room! This may be very obvious to some, but a clean room = clean mind. Make your space yours. Clean your room at home before moving into your dorm, too. You don’t want to come home over holiday breaks to a messy room! Keep up with cleaning your dorm to help make it a sacred space for yourself. Get organized! Make a system that works. Bring items with you that will make it a homey and comfortable space for you to be in! If you have roommates, I would recommend putting a cleaning schedule in place. For example, one week your roommate cleans the room, takes out the trash, etc. and the next week, you do the same. It becomes much easier to manage and you’ll come to find out that cleaning is very helpful and relaxing! I always found that my dorm rooms were such small spaces, there wasn’t much room for messes anyways. However my room did get quite dusty often and did require some vacuuming!

🎀 Don’t be afraid to romanticize your life. Your life is a tv show, and you are the main character! Confidence is key. Trust me, positivity and confidence are very attractive and more people will want to be around you if you radiate positivity! Sometimes it even helps to have a ‘Study like ____’ mindset. Think of a character that has passion and confidence in their studies, and kind of romanticize being like them (Hermione granger, Rory Gillmore, Elle Woods, Blair Waldorf). Looking these up on Pinterest really helps!

🎀 Put effort into your appearance & outfits! I always felt that if I look good, I feel good too. I know it’s very common to have motivation to dress nice in the start of a school year, but always seem to not be able to keep up with it past the first week. If you’re going to college, it helps to bring more options for nicer clothes and limit comfy clothes, which kind of forces you to wear more than sweats and a tshirt everyday. It helps to plan out your outfits the night before, or even the week before. If this feels like too much, you can start by picking one or two days out of the week to be a ‘dress-up’ day! I did this last year on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, which happened to be the days I had the most classes on. This really helped me to stay motivated and confident, and so I definitely recommend doing this! Along with that, this summer I’ve been really immersing myself in all types of makeup products, hair styles, and body care items, so I know which ones I should take back to school with me. Doing this makes me feel like I’m starting over brand new, on a clean slate as well. If you feel like you’re in need of a glow-up, this is definitely something to keep in mind! (Although you’re beautiful the way you are! Sometimes people just outgrow old habits!)

🎀 Make a vision board!!!! I really cannot stress this enough, but make a vision board! I made one at the beginning of the year, and mostly everything I put into it has come true! All of the things I had put on my vision board came true: I found a fun job, while it’s not going to be a life-long career for me, I’m still bringing money in for the time being. In 2023, I was in a really bad spot with friends, and now I have found amazing friends that I’m so grateful for! I got into a relationship, and even though it didn’t last and it wasn’t right for me, a relationship was something I had on my board that I had never done before. I get good grades at school, I have attended multiple concerts, and even went to the beach, which was all something I had on my board. I decided to make a new one for the fall semester of my school year, kind of so I could start fresh and just update it to where I’m at mentally now! Even if you did make one at the start of 2024, A lot has happened in the past eight months, so it’s always good to update it. Never stop visualizing things you want in life!

🎀 This one is definitely easier said than done, but really put yourself out there! !!!!GET INVOLVED!!!! Join clubs, volunteer, join sororities, join sports, make friends at the gym, go to parties, get involved with people from your major, make connections, get a campus job, reach out to professors (ask questions!), go to school organized events (even if they sound super boring!) even if it’s just leaving your dorm every night to go to the dining hall…be social!!!! I truly cannot stress this enough. I knew of people who never left their dorms, and they never made friends that way. They hated school and were miserable! College is supposed to be a time of self-discovery and finding your people, so go out and do just that! Go out of your comfort zone! If you’re entering your freshman year, nobody knows who you are, so you need to make that name for yourself! This might seem like a lot of pressure to handle, but it’s really not. Everyone is in the same boat, they’re all looking for friends. Making friends and connections really helps your year go by so much easier and quicker.

🎀 AVOID DRAMA AT ALL COSTS. Drama is so middle school! Ew! Really, in the long run of things, drama has no effect on you whatsoever. If you’re in college, it’s time for you to mature from the high school drama mindset. I learned this the hard way, and I surrounded myself with people who hadn’t grown from that yet. They incorporated drama into everything we did, and it was so draining. I eventually got away from them, and it was so worth it! You already have so much on your plate with your studies, no one really has time to deal with silly drama. It’s only going to give you unnecessary stress and distract you from what’s really important! No one has time or energy for that! Focus on yourself and what you need!

🎀 Create a routine and STICK TO IT!!! The first 1-2 weeks of a new year can always be difficult, but once you have that new schedule down, that’s when it gets easier. Create a routine for yourself that incorporates all your classes, study time, meals, self care time, and social time and anything else you want to accomplish, and you’re set! Don’t be afraid to hold yourself accountable! ♡

🎀 Make time for yourself. Don’t overextend yourself trying to do things for others. This is your life, so do things for you! Always set aside a specific amount of time each day for you to be alone with yourself and your thoughts. Try not to be on your phone either. Try to be completely unplugged. Maybe try journaling, doing some self care, crafting, or doing any hobby that you enjoy! Being okay with being alone is what one needs!

I may think of more things to come, but for now this is what comes to mind immediately. You can ask me any questions and I’ll do my best to answer them ♡

[crisalidaseason]

some post war jearmin? your writing is lovely btw

A JEARMIN ASKKKKK AAAAAAAAAAA

Okay, I am contained in my enclosure again. Let's do this. Also, sorry for the delay, I was almost dying and thank you so much for the compliment, it means a lot to me

Honey Patches

Summary: Post war Jearmin fluff

Content warning: bitttersweet, armin is tired, jean is tired, fluff, a bit angsty, very VERY implied suggestive content, like one sentence, but still mdni

Eldia, Mitras district

It was one of the bad days. Not a really bad one, just regular bad. The type of day the previous commander of the survey corps was used to.

"Fuck this" Armin whispered, visibly frustrated that his coat tore open in another spot. That old piece of fabric was giving up on him.

"Here" a deep voice broke the morning silence.

Armin felt the heavyness of Jean's coat over his shoulders, sending the other man a silent thanks.

"I'll try to fix it once we rest for the night"

Armin nodded, a little absent minded, wearing the other man's coat with the usual hurry. It seemed he was always late these days, always in need somewhere. A meeting, a conference, a 'quick' talk, reports, resolutions and negotiation drafts. Armin was always being requested.

"See you later" Jean's voice echoed again.

Armin paused. He did it again. He was almost out the door.

"See you" he said, a warm trained smile on his lips.

He left without looking at Jean's expression. He avoided the taller man's eyes in the early morning, not being able to resist the urge to just cave and fall on his knees in tears.

Armin was exhausted.

Walking towards the meeting room was always the worst minutes of his morning, his empty stomach complaining that the anxiety was already knocking on the door. Everyday he wondered why he was still there, why he endured all of this. He contemplated running away every single minute until he reached the meeting room.

He wanted to go home. To the small little home he purchased with so much difficulty, his little cottage in a small town he randomly pointed at on a map.

"Mister Arlert" the old man greeted him, the usual scorn in his tone "Took you long enough"

It was indeed a...

"Bad day?" Jean's voice blessed Armin's ears that evening.

The blonde laid against his bedroom's door, tired despite being released earlier than expected. Jean was still in uniform, indicating he probably had just arrived. The other blonde had quite a messy hair that night, most likely a result of horse riding.

"How was your day?" he asked Jean.

Armin wishes he could go on more field missions. He felt so suffocated inside meeting rooms, lonely in the presence of paper and ink.

"Nothing special, just some infrastructure evaluation back in Karanes district" the other man said while discarding his uniform coat.

Jean was still relatively in shape, although he had lost a bit of weight due to a sickness. Armin had to remind him to take it easy. The blonde looked down at his own frame, he had not changed much on the outside, he was always very difficult to change physically. Mentally it was another story.

"You're showering?"

"You want to go first?" Jean offered "I can wait"

He did not want to, all Armin wanted was to drop dead on the uncomfortable bed and wake up in his home. At the same time, Jean took ages to leave the bathroom.

"Yeah, I'll be quick"

Armin - who was leaning on the door - moved a bit too quickly for his mind to catch up, the world soon turning into a spiral. He felt Jean's hand on his upper arms, gripping him firmly.

"Hey, are you alright?"

He wondered if the sickness Jean caught was finally flaring, he did not have a titan's immune system anymore. His head was still stinging in sharp pain, his eyes colored in dark spots. The soft sheet of the bed was the only thing the blonde registered for a while, and he immediatly indulged in it.

"A shower can wait" Jean's voice was muffled on Armin's ears.

The last thing the blond could remember before succumbing to exhaustion was Jean's soft lips on the forehead. In the first hours of the morning, there was nothing but darkness and the faint breathing of jean's sleeping form. Armin looked around disoriented, trying to gain a sense of why he was still in uniform.

"Shit" he whispered into the cold night.

A shower was very much needed and he tried his hardest not to flinch at the extremely cold water. While washing his hair, Armin wondered if Jean locked the door, the last thing he wanted was for anyone to find out that the taller man did not sleep in his room at night. He had enough problems on that island.

As Armin left the shower, shivering, he noticed his coat was hanging on a chair. The visible hole from the morning had been fixed. The blonde touched the fabric, the patch was noticeable but sturdy enough. He wondered if Jean fixed it while he was in deep sleep, feeling bad for it. Jean did not need to do it after a tiring day of work, but he did anyway.

Dressing was quick and soon the blonde was under the covers again. Jean had his back turned, his front almost glued to the wall. Jean had a strange but amusing habit of sleeping facing a wall, his arms crossed and knees bent. The blonde smiled at the sight and laid beside his boyfriend, warming his cold body on his.

Jean groaned something.

"Go to sleep, Jean" Armin muttered.

"Cold" he complained, trying to get away from Armin's freezing form.

Armin smiled and hugged Jean's waist even closer, rubbing his own feet on the other man's legs.

"Why are you like this?"

Despite his words, Jean let Armin snuggle even more, enduring the cold sensation until the other man had warmed enough.

"I can't wait to go home" Jean whispered "Our bed is bigger"

Armin chuckled softly.

"I miss the bathroom. It had space for two"

Jean pinched Armin's arm as an answer, later taking his hand and laying a soft kiss on the, now warm, knuckles.

"Just a few more weeks, then we'll be home"

Armin nodded, kissing Jean's shoulder.

"Good night"

"Night"

[shiningshenanigans]

When Sacrifice No Longer Feels Loving: Raw, Messy, Emotional Thoughts on Loki Season 2

It’s been a little over two weeks since the season 2 finale of Loki came out, and although it’s been pretty much all I’ve been able to think about lately, I haven’t really been able to put my thoughts into words. And I have a lot of thoughts. I need to get them out of my system, and I’ve tried to write them down on multiple occasions, but every time I do, they keep getting stuck on the way out.   

So, I’ve decided to do something different. Rather than trying to analyze the series critically, I’m going to just start writing about how it made me feel, and see where it takes me. I’m not really sure what’s going on in my heart and mind as I reflect on this story, but I have a vague idea of the truth that it’s tapping into. Fair warning: these thoughts are going to get very Christian-y and preachy, so if the gospel is not your thing, I don’t know how much sense this post will make. But, if you’ve been having a similar experience with the season and care to read, I hope that you find some encouragement and truth in these messy, emotionally honest thoughts!

When I try to sum up how I feel about season 2 as a whole, the only word that really comes to mind is “upset.” I’m just upset about it. The morning after the finale aired, I woke up with a deep, hollow pit of sadness in my stomach. I broke down crying a couple of times over the next few days just thinking about certain scenes in episodes 5 and 6, and I couldn’t rewatch the finale for almost a week. 

Is it weird to feel this kind of grief over something as simple as a TV show? Yeah, probably. But I think that’s kind of the point. I’d been looking forward to the release of this season for two years. Without getting too personal, I’ve recently been through one of the hardest years of my life. Just this year, I’ve gone to two funerals for people that I grew up with, been in a car crash, faced rejection in a relationship that I had grown emotionally attached to, and mourned with my community as we experienced one of the most tragic shootings in our country's history. The release of Loki season 2 had become a little bright spot in my 2023; something to look forward to in all the madness. 

When the first season came out, I remember being overcome by how good it was. It was wacky, and sweet, and funny, and sad, and redemptive all at once. Even in its darkest moments, there seemed to be a thread of hope that ran through the series from beginning to end. Over the years it had become a comfort show, a beautiful piece of art that offered me encouragement when I needed a pick-me-up. Because if a comic book super villain with a long history of screwing his life up can change his ways, make new friends, fall in love, find meaningful work, stand up to his oppressors, and ultimately write his own destiny, then gosh darnit, so can I. 

My roommate and I invited our friends over, every Thursday night for six weeks, to watch the new episodes as they premiered. Our watch parties started off full of excitement and anticipation. I even made key lime pie for us the first couple of times, which was a big hit. But as the weeks wore on, and the episodes started to spiral deeper into tragedy, our post-watch conversations became more full of questions and complaints than anything. When the credits rolled on the finale, we sat in an almost mournful silence, watching the screen, waiting with baited breath to see if there would be a post-credits scene. There wasn’t one. You could almost feel a sense of dread fall over the room. That’s it. That’s all they’re going to give us. That’s how they’ve decided to end the story. 

I think the first words that were uttered when the Disney Plus screen finally popped up were, “I hate Marvel,” before we all began to voice how we felt.  

I can honestly say this has been one of the weirdest, strongest emotional reactions to a piece of media that I’ve ever had. It’s genuinely felt like I’ve been going through the five stages of grief over this show, but the grief isn’t just stemming from the inherent sadness of the story. I’m also grieving the show itself; what it’s become, how it was handled by the people it was entrusted to, and the knowledge that there will likely not be another season to redeem it. I feel angry, unseen and unloved by the writers who set up everything over the course of six episodes to ensure that the finale was as heartbreaking as possible. 

At the same time, however, I can’t say that I hated it. A part of me knows that the reason it’s affecting me so deeply is because it’s so well-made. Art doesn’t grip you this much unless it’s objectively good. There are legitimate critiques of the story/filmmaking that I could make and a lot of people already have. The temptation to scoff and say “Michael Waldron wouldn’t have done it this way” and turn all my excitement towards Secret Wars is very strong, but that just seems like misplacing my hope. Underneath all the sadness and the frustration, there’s also a layer of confusion. Am I supposed to be feeling this way? Is this what the writers of this show wanted me to feel all along? And if so, why? What are they trying to say through this story?  

I don’t normally mind stories with tragic endings, so long as I can understand the purpose behind them. I remember feeling similarly unsettled when I finished the first season of Arcane, wondering what the point of it all was. But after a little bit of analysis and reflection, I could see how the tragedy was fitting; how the characters choices had led to the ending and the cautionary tale it was trying to tell me. Even in the tragedy, it was still good. I’ve also learned to love the grief that comes with watching a character make a heroic sacrifice for those he loves. I think of Tony Stark in Avengers: Endgame, Janner in The Wingfeather Saga, or Stoick in How To Train Your Dragon 2. All these deaths are heartbreaking and painful to watch, but there’s a certain beauty to them too, and you can feel the goodness and love in their sacrifices.

This one is different, though. Something about this one feels wrong. Something about this one feels deeply, inherently, not good. And analysis is only making it worse. 

I’m having a really hard time seeing the beauty in the sacrifice that Loki makes at the end of season 2. This story wasn’t supposed to end in tragedy. It was supposed to be a reversal of tragedy. A second chance for a beloved character (one who has already sacrificed himself for love on multiple occasions) to finally receive some kind of reward instead of punishment.

To end the series the way the writers did feels almost like a stab in the back, a betrayal if you will, of all the hope and joy and restoration that the first season promised. I guess adopted children who are abandoned at birth really are destined to be alone forever, no matter how much love they have to give. I guess villains can’t find redemption, and even if they do, they will not escape eternal punishment for their sins. I guess quarrels between brothers (or lovers) can’t be resolved, and every relationship we cherish is doomed to fall apart eventually. I guess young women like me, who are strong and independent because we’ve had to be, are not worth pursuing, and we should be content with our middle-management jobs and casual friendships as if that is the peak of human existence. I guess we should embrace isolation and selfishness after all. I guess true love doesn’t really exist, and we should walk away from any semblance of it before it makes us bleed.

Bummer. 

The night after we watched the finale, I drove a couple of my friends home. On the drive back, I could feel the sadness of the story aching in my gut. I thought specifically about Sylvie, and how unsatisfied I felt with where the story left her. I’ve always connected with her as a character, and I hated the way she had been sidelined throughout the season. Every week, I had tuned in hoping I would see some kind of reconciliation between her and Loki. I just wanted some kind assurance that she loved him back, that they would somehow end up together in the end. One kiss, one hug, just… one conversation, for heaven’s sake. One apology from either side. One confession of love. But six episodes and it never came. Their relationship wasn’t even addressed. It was reduced to subtext, as if it wasn’t the back bone that Michael Waldron built his original pitch off of back before 2021.  

I thought about the way she shrugged and smiled when Mobius asked her what she was going to do next, and it just irked me. Why didn’t they tell us what her plans were? Why didn’t they give us some kind of clue? It seemed so obvious to me what she should do. She should make good use of her Tempad and go be with Loki. How could she just walk away, knowing everything he just sacrificed for her? Do people really think she could just… go back to her life after that, with so many things left unsaid between them? If she really does love him, how could she? How could she go through life, knowing that the truest love she’s ever experienced is lightyears away, always watching, always with her, but unable to be physically present with her in a mortal, tangible way? It sounded like such a sad, lonely fate and my heart broke for both Sylvie and Loki as I thought about it.  

But then it dawned on me: wait a second… isn’t that what it’s like to be a Christian? Isn’t that the reality I’m living every day, as Christ’s bride? The weight of that realization was so heavy I almost had to pull over on the side of the road because I couldn’t breath. My savior loves me more than anything. He gave up everything for me, just like Loki did for Sylvie. I don’t even know how many rounds he went with the enemy on that cross, just to bargain for my soul. And what do I do about it? I shrug it off with a smile. I forget about it until it’s convenient. I go back to my job, my house, my car, my record store, as if every second of my life hasn’t been paid for by the blood, sweat, and tears of a God who just wants me to be ok. As if I could ever fool myself into believing a life without Him is enough for me. 

As if I shouldn’t be fighting like hell to get back to Him. As if love so amazing, so divine, doesn’t demand my life, my soul, my all. Just so you know, I teared up again writing that last paragraph.

A lot of people have pointed out the parallels that can be made between Loki and Sylvie and Adam and Eve. The comparison really does work in a lot of ways. A perfect likeness, a counterpart created for a lonely man because “it is not good that the man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18). One flesh, two halves of a whole. Equals, balancing and complementing each other perfectly. A couple chosen by a higher power to rule the universe with authority. There’s something edenic about that scene where they snuggle in the grass under that blanket together: a man and a woman, wrapped up in a garden of green, completely unguarded and vulnerable with each other. The man promises the woman his protection, and the woman shyly offers him her trust and thanks in return. 

When they make it to the Citadel at the End of Time, their parting echoes deeply of the fall. The serpent (He Who Remains) sows seeds of distrust between them, knowing full-well that they are stronger together and could easily overpower him if they remain united. The two halves are torn apart and turn on one another. The woman, in her thirst for freedom, takes control of the situation, and the man fails in his duty to stop her. Free will is unleashed into the world, and with it comes consequence and chaos and danger.         

If season 1 can be read as the journey from the garden to the fall, season 2 reads more like the journey from the fall to the cross. Chaos and confusion, spiraling slowly towards death and destruction. Constant distrust between the man and the woman, between God and his bride. An inability to reconcile, to fix what’s been broken. The citadel goes from being Eden to being Gethsemane. When every other option has been tried and all hope is lost, Loki returns to the moment of the fall and pleads with his love, over and over again, to make a different choice. But she will not stop rebelling, even though it leads to her death every time. 

Unable to reason with her, Loki confronts He Who Remains to bargain for her life. But there’s no option that doesn’t end in bloodshed. Loki must either kill Sylvie, the woman he loves, and go on committing genocide in HWR’s place. Or, he must break the temporal loom and let the chaos that ensues destroy all of reality. These, according to He Who Remains, are the only two choices. So Loki makes a third choice. Instead of sacrificing others for the multiverse, he makes a total sacrifice of himself. I think you can see where I’m going with this. 

It’s not lost on me how weird it is to compare Loki, a marvel super villain based off of a pagan norse god, to Jesus. But the crucifixion/ascension parallels here aren’t exactly subtle. Loki puts on a heavy crown, carries a great burden up a hill, and “dies” on a tree of all things, to save both the woman he loves and the group of friends he’s grown close with during his time at the TVA. His last words to his loved ones before he ascends are, “I know what kind of God I need to be, for you, for all of us.” When I think about the story in these parabolic terms, I’m almost overwhelmed by how much truth is woven into this mythology.  And yet, something about it still feels deeply unsettling to me. There’s still a piece missing that makes it feel more like a Greek tragedy than a Jewish parable. 

As they are, Loki Seasons 1 and 2 show me a reflection of the fall, the cross, and in some ways, the ascension of Jesus Christ. What they don’t show me is a picture of the resurrection. And any christian will tell you that the resurrection is the most vital part of the story (1 Corinthians 15:16-20). The series shows me sin and what it costs. They show me what is lost in sacrifice, but they don’t show me what is gained. The hero meets a fate worse then death, and is forced to remain there, alone, for all eternity. There are no tearful reunions at the tomb, no assurance that death has been defeated, no eucatastrophe. No curse reversed. God and man are forever separated, and for some reason that’s supposed to be beautiful, according to Marvel. It’s not. It’s a question mark, a gaping wound at the end of the story that offers no comfort. To live in that tension, that separation, in those three days between Christ’s death and his resurrection, is literally the most painful, most hopeless place for the human heart to dwell. But, maybe it’s a tension that we should sit in more often, so that we can appreciate the weight of what Christ did for us. 

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I don’t really hate season 2 of Loki. It’s a beautifully crafted piece of art, well-written (sort of) and well-acted, with gorgeous production design and a deep, meaningful story at its core. What I hate, with every fiber of my being, is the thought that that is where the story ends. That it’s supposed to end there. That this ending is good. As a Christian, I almost can’t accept it. Everything in me screams that there has to be more resolution beyond the credits of the finale. 

That, I think, is where all the pain swirling in my heart around this story is really coming from. And whether they know it or not, I think that’s where a lot of the Loki fandom’s pain is coming from right now. The gospel is so written into our DNA that it pours itself out into every mythology we try to create. We are so desperate for the reassurance that the resurrection is true, that when we get even the slightest hint that it might not be, it triggers our deepest, darkest anxieties. Nothing scares me more than the thought of being alone, separated from God, for all eternity. Not even death is scarier, or more tragic, than that. It is, by definition, hell. 

So yeah. Curse you, Marvel. Curse you for telling me a story that hurts like hell, and expecting me to just be ok with it. For giving me an ending that could never, in any reality, be satisfying or conclusive, and then trying to gaslight me into believing that it is. For ensuring that I will probably end up buying a ticket for both Secret Wars and Kang Dynasty (even though I’m really tired of superhero movies) just so that I can see if I’m right, that love really does win in the end. I don’t really have any kind of expectation that the next two Avengers movies are going to give me the closure I’m looking for. But I think I know where I can find it.  

As grieved as I am by the way Marvel handled this story, I’m also kind of amazed by the way its incompleteness is revealing to me the total, satisfying completeness of the gospel. Marvel can’t promise me that, at the end of time, the God of Stories will be reunited with his warring bride and live happily ever after in the presence of his inner circle. But the gospel does. And the hope that I find there is immeasurable.

[chaptersonetoinfinity]

Hi Sas!

For the writers' ask game how about 12, 34 and 68?

Hi Lola, thank you for the ask! 

Fanfiction Writing Asks

12. Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

I think I’m one of the most detailed outliners I know! And I have a lot of writer friends, so that says a lot, LOL. I go as far as color-coding by POV per section, so it’s not even “this happens in this chapter”, it’s “this happens in this SECTION.”

But there are things I leave to the spur of the moment too. I write a lot of action sequences, and I try to leave the specifics of the fight for when I’m drafting because I have to get the “flow” of the action to see what outcomes naturally fall into place. Or if I need to know the outcome to outline the next part of the story, I “write” that whole sequence in a messy outline like a “draft 0.5”, and then make a concise version of that fight to put in my outline so I can get on with the rest of my plan. 

I also love writing stories from multiple POVs, so sometimes I’ll plan out whose POV I want to incorporate in which section, but I’ll leave wiggle room for sections where I realize someone else’s POV works better, or if I realize I need to split them into two or add more scenes. Though I will say that none of these changes will make me stray from my outline, because I’ve usually worked out where I’m going with a story before I start drafting.

Fun fact: a lawyer friend once saw a screenshot of my notes for the climax of one of my fics, and she said they were as detailed as her court notes! I still brag about it from time to time. Like right now.

34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

A fair amount, although it’s more coincidental. I’m not specifically drawn to writing certain characters just because they’re “like me”, for instance. So if I know about something from my past that’ll help with my WIP, that’s cool. But if I don’t, that won’t put me off from writing the story—in those cases, instead of trying to “relate”, I would go about it intuitively and hypothetically, and defer to my research and/or my imagination.

Also, if I happen to have experiences that are similar to the backstories of certain characters, I will embrace them and try to reflect on them in order to to help me narrate the thought process or motivation that this character might have. But I try not to project myself into the whole story, so my character might respond to their situations differently from how I responded when I went through something similar, because I’m not them. 

Bonus: I majored in psychology back in undergrad, which comes in handy. I definitely use a lot of knowledge from my degree to come up with solutions to the emotional aspects of my work or to figure out what a character would do given their circumstances.

68. Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

I would say no, because I started off writing original fiction when i was 15, and I didn’t get into fanfics until about 5 years after that, so by the time I was writing my first fic, I already sounded like ME (in terms of a “voice” and style). 

While fanfics haven’t influenced the way I write, they’ve influenced my ideas and setups. For example, I’ve got an OC who is a ghost, who plays an active role in the plot. I won’t reveal too much right now, but the idea of having a ghost OC comes from the MHA fanfic “Yesterday Upon the Stair” on AO3 (highly recommend!). I also get ideas about magic systems from published fiction or even TV shows, and sometimes I might end up adapting certain fanons I see from other fics into my own fics with permission from the author. 

Oh, I also started writing in present tense after reading some fics in my past fandoms where the author wrote in present tense, and I wanted to try it out. It turned out to work really well for my style, so I adapted that into my own writing. But that’s the most influence that any fics have had on me stylistically. Now I’m flexible and I can switch back to past tense if the story works better like that, and I’ve also got fics where I write flashback chapters in past tense, and “current storyline” chapters in present tense.

[messenger-of-stupidity]

I'll Still Dream Of You

The first Bonus Scene of "I Still See Your Face"!!!

(I'm gonna keep the previous taglist for the original one as well as those who made a point to say yes when I made that poll.)

Summary: Although you went away and broke my heart in two, until eternity... I'll still remember you

~~

Warden was missing. Cam had his suspicions of course, but he needed to confirm it. They were his dearest friend, he owed them solidity.

~~

Cam's reaction to finding that Vega took Warden, and two cute flashbacks of his friendship with them!

Redacted Masterlist

Taglist: @wib-was-here (Here's the Cam therapy you wanted after I had Vega bully him so much.) @star-sheeps @teeiasposts @neongreenskunk @clover-46 @teafairywithabook @blueshadow420 @pinksparkl @angel-shaw @haze-hours @itsyourstarboy

Cam carefully kicked aside a shard of glass, his brow furrowed. The alarms had long since been shut off, but now the halls felt deathly quiet. There was some blood splattered against the walls, and he didn’t want to know who it belonged to.

The containment facility breach had shaken the entirety of the Department. How could it not? They were trying to keep it under tight wraps as they gathered forces to track down all of the prisoners, as well as the Solitaires which had taken them.

His emotions threatened to swell and swallow him whole as he continued down the messy hallway. Doors hung slightly off their hinges or lay just flat on the ground and the furniture inside the rooms had been overturned. This was certainly a storm that he was meant to be calm inside of. Ainiah wandered through another part of the building that had better cell service, desperately trying the same contact number over and over again. Cam would have been with her, but DUMP had needed his help in case any Solitaires remained.

He paused outside one of the rooms that had the door intact. The numbers along the metal door were growing faded with age, but he already knew who had been inside this one. He had entered it no more than three or four times and regretted every single one. Hesitantly, he grabbed onto the handle and pulled it open. There was no code to input. The automatic locking system hadn’t been a priority to get back online. The entire facility had essentially been sacked.

Keep Reading

[happysparklingshadows]

Time May Change Me

Chapter 1 ❀ Chapter 2 ❀ Chapter 3

Summary: Turns out that having messy friends will cause some mess in your own life. Good thing that the mess Lola got, gave her a golden opportunity to keep getting to know this one pretty loser more.

Warnings: Dina and Jesse being sluts and Lola low key being a little mean  @jinxtheplanet​

Word Count: 3.6k

My eyes reluctantly opened as the sun shined onto my face hitting my eyes. I turned on Dina’s bed as my head held a hot pressure on my crown. I try to lull myself back to sleep, and I feel the warmth of the blankets. 

“Fuck, Jesse! God!” A loud moan came out of the bathroom, adjoined to the bedroom. My eyes open wide at the sounds, and I sit up. I slowly awake and become alert to the slapping sounds and male whimpers from the small room beside me. “Ah-Ah-Ah-right fucking there, Jesse!”

Of course, they’re fucking! They are constantly fucking!. 

I got up hastily, threw my backpack on, and ran out of the room. I left the house as quickly as possible and didn’t realize that the morning sun was just peeking out of the skyline. The sun was just hitting my eyes in the correct position. Fucking great. 

I walk home in my clothes, and my makeup smudges around my eyes. I feel myself growing tired again from the lack of natural sleep. I can still feel the moonshine and joints in my system and realize how lucky I am that I am not going on patrol today. 

I eventually get to my house, and I quietly open the door. I walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of water but stop when I see Tommy sipping on some coffee, looking out the kitchen window over the sink. 

“You know, you don’t have to sneak in.” Tommy chuckled and sipped loudly on the coffee. “But you better pray Maria doesn’t see you because she thought you were just at Dina’s last night.” 

“Okay, thank you, Tommy.” Quietly say and race over to the sink, pulling the class from the drying rack and drinking some water. “I’m going to take a nap now.” 

“It’s 5 am, girl.” He said back to me in disbelief. 

“I don’t know where you got that tone from, but I think you know about power naps, old man.” I laugh at him and go up the stairs quickly. 

“Whatever, punk; I expect you at the gun range tonight, though.” 

“You got it, old man.” I yawn as I reach the stair's top and go straight to the left of my bedroom.  I rip my coat off, flip my shoes off with my steps, and flop onto the bed. 

My love, I have come back to you. Sorry, I slept in another bed. I smile at the thought as I cuddle into my blankets. 

The day went on like any other day. Off reading my smutty books and knitting another blanket for someone. The house was quiet because I was the only home which was something I had to grow into throughout the years. My fingers skillfully hold the yarn between the thick knitting needles, braiding the wool into a blanket. When I am alone, my mind goes off on its own, and my body keeps going on like nothing. 

When I was still in Kansa city’s QZ, I have left home alone a lot. My parents were attentive at home and gave me love whenever they could, mainly consisting of advice on fighting correctly and kisses on the forehead. My dad was a smuggler, and my mother was the only dentist in the QZ, making it challenging to be home with me when I was home from school. I loved being alone at one time. I acted like an adult in my home and would do anything I wanted, although I wasn’t a kid under strict parents. But once, my mom and dad died, I was all alone for the first time. In the Qz, there was always noise and people in your building. The day in Emporia, Kansas, when my dad ran off from me, will always be in my mind. I remember my consciousness pulling back for the first time and not remembering much more after a distance gunshot ran out. I have never been terrific on my own, even though I can be alone. I had to hide parts of myself and let this numbness push me further away from the world. My mind forced me to observe and not engage, letting the beast I carry take control. I was behind a wall of glass, looking through to the world. I wasn’t even Lola anymore; I was just instinct. Coming to Jackson, the scariest thing I had to learn was being alone again. Maria had left for a council meeting, and I woke up from a nap to find myself alone in the house. I was convinced I had been left alone again and started shaking uncontrollably. Memories were playing over and over again without consent or permission. Memories of death and bitterness the world have shown me. Maria found me in the living room in the fetal position and uncontrollably crying. But as time went by in Jackson, I felt safe again and had a sense of security in being left alone, although it took longer than I want to admit. 

Knocking at the front door pushed me out of my thoughts. I put down the knitting I was doing, walked to the door, and opened it to regret not fixing my hair quickly. 

“Ellie, what are you doing here?” I asked and started to rub the button on my cardigan. 

“Hey, Lola, you look nice tonight.” Ellie smiled at me. She stood in front of me in jeans and a dark blue flannel, showing off her tattooed arm, and had her hair in a loose bun. “I wanted to tell you all that just went down at the patrol office.” 

Oh, shit! Did I do something? Shit, I didn’t do anything!

“Oh, god, what happened? Did something bad happen?” I asked, my worry clear on my face. 

“No! No, but I wanted to tell you we’re partners now.” Ellie reassured me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was a mix between happy and conflicted. 

Oh, Ellie, aren’t you cocky? If you are whipped already, you could just say. 

I chuckle and take a step back, “What do you mean? Dina has always been my partner.” 

“Well, I guess the two of them came into the office to Joel and Tommy and said they would like to be assigned together after we came back from our patrol. I offered to become your partner so there wasn’t any confusion with getting a new person and everything.” She rambled on and looked at her feet, and a blush grew as she continued talking to me. 

I smirked at her and lightly nudged her foot with mine, making her look up at my face. Ellie was blushing but tried to keep her face neutral, and she wasn’t good at hiding her feelings. “Ellie, that was a good idea. I think we will work fine together. But I have to yell at Dina for not telling me first.” I joked. 

Ellie chuckled at me and looked at her shoes again, “Okay, good. I thought you were going to yell at me for this.” 

I smile at her as I put on some shoes, “Why would I be angry at you?” 

“I didn’t stop Dina or Jesse and kinda wanted a change.” She said, her face crunched up in a face again, and she looked away. 

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit, Ellie wanted meeeee! 

“Good thing, I wanted a change too,” I smirked at her and finished tying my shoes. I stood up from the stairs in front of the main door. “You wanna show me their sorry asses?” 

“S-sure thing,” Ellie said, her face crunching again at her voice. 

Jesus, she is so fucking awkward. It’s so hot. 

I smile at her and leave the house, locking it behind me. I looked at my reflection in the window and decided to fix my hair. My hair was half up and half down with a ponytail, so I tried to get my baby hair and retie the hair. As I was finger-combing the hair, a familiar pressure was on my neck. 

Energy and pressure pressed on the back of my neck. My mouth became dry, and my fingers fidgeted with my hair. I let my eyes flick over in the glass. Ellie stood behind me with her green eyes locked onto the back of my head, her lip was in her teeth, and her eyes scanned over my back. Her eyes stopped at my ass, and I couldn’t help the blush burning on my cheeks, a smile breaking through my face. 

I turn back quickly, Ellie’s eyes snap up to my eyes, not knowing I caught her, and she smiles at me. “Lead the way, gorgeous.” 

“I will. Thank you.” I say sweetly and with my best doe eyes. I step closer to Ellie and look slightly down at her, being only a few inches taller than the girl, “Let’s get going, partner.”   

The walk to the Tipsy Bison was comfortable between us.  Ellie and I walked in silence, only to be interrupted sporadically by the random greetings I would get from people on the street of Jackson.  Ellie's eyes would widen whenever someone would greet her beside me, and she would wave back quickly and give a tight-lipped smile, and I peeked over at her every time she did. She wasn’t used to people greeting her like I was, but the comfort of knowing Ellie was going out of her isolation made me smile. 

The fairy lights of the bar could be seen dancing on the ground outside of the bar. I turned my head to Ellie and said, “Wanna make a bet?” 

“Sure,” Ellie smiled at me softly and looked away, “what are we betting?” 

Oh, Ellie’s shy tonight. Alright. 

“I bet Dina and Jesse are back together, and they are inside the bar right now, dance-fucking.” 

“Ugh, I hate it when they do that.” Ellie groaned, dramatically turning her head back, “They always do that in front of us too. I don’t get it.” 

“I get it. I think it's something people in love do.” I chuckled and shook my head, looking down at my hands as we walked closer to the bar.  “But, I wouldn’t do it in public, no.” 

Ellie chuckled at me and looked at my face. I couldn’t muster enough courage to look back at her, feeling the weight of her eyes on my cheeks, nose, and eyes. I couldn’t help but let my heart race. 

You are not pretty enough… Stop smiling. 

A familiar whisper echoes in my head, making me grow silent.  I pull my lips tight as we walk into the bar, still not looking back at Ellie. The bar was full of people, and people were dancing on the floor, old country songs played romantically on the counter. The fairy lights hung lazily on the ceiling, and candles made at the community center were lit at each table. My eyes grew soft at the scene and the bar's energy, a welcoming place where people could be people. I have been inside the bar many times, but every time I walked in on the happy laughs and drunk talking, I felt so happy to be a part of it.

Dina and Jesse slowly danced with their foreheads touching; they looked at each other with adornment.  Jesse’s hands were on her waist, and Dina’s was on his shoulders, snaking around his neck and kissing him softly.  Tenderly they dance together as they murmur to each other. 

God, I am going to vomit and die alone. I would kill to have that. 

“Well, at least they aren’t dance-fucking.” Ellie said to me, making me snap my head back to her. I quickly change my face with a smile at her and force a chuckle. 

“Yeah, now they are making love dancing.” Knowing that it didn’t land, I joke, “I owe you a drink because I was somewhat wrong.”

“Lola, you don’t owe me-” 

“I owe you for picking me as a partner before I got stuck with someone I don’t know or like.” I chuckle and push her shoulder, “Besides, I need a drink, and you can get us a table.” 

Ellie says softly back, looking away. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.” 

I quickly walk away from Ellie. My breath is getting trapped in my chest again, and I can’t stop my hands from shuddering under the weight of her eyes. I want her to look away but never take her eyes off me. She was so pretty and strong and confident, and I was me. I am Lola, and Lola doesn’t get the people she wants. She helps the people she wants to get who they want. Ellie will not want me when she gets closer to me like everyone else. I know that deep down because why did everyone before her leave me? It was because of me. I am a problem. I feel myself getting increasingly claustrophobic within my brain because Ellie is trying to get closer to me. It was too much change, too quickly. 

“Hey, Seth, can I get two whisky lemonades?” I asked as I looked down at my hands. 

“Yeah.” Seth blankly responded as he started to pour the drinks into glasses.  “Do you want a water with-”

“Lola! Funny seeing you here!” Ben interrupts Seth as he approaches me, placing a hand on my arm. My face pulls into a frown, and my body stiffens. Ben was a skinny tall blonde with a mediocre face and personality that had too much confidence to be justified. 

I look over at him without moving my head. I look him up and down. My lips purse in distaste, and I cross my arms, pushing his hand away. “Hi, Ben.” I sassed quickly at him and looked back to Seth, who had the drinks finished. 

“Thanks, Seth,” I muttered, grabbing the drinks before walking from the bar. 

“Hey, I was thinking about maybe dancing tonight. Would you like to dance with me?” Ben quickly asked me, grabbing my arm again. If you touch me one more fucking time… 

“Sorry, I’m not dancing tonight,” I said, pushing his hand off of me again and walking back to Ellie, who was sitting at a table now with Jesse and Dina. 

“Okay, I get it. Have a good night, princess!” Ben roared as he walked away with a huff. I rolled my eyes to the back of my head at him and continued to the table. The comment was loud enough that the table heard him. Ellie heard him, making her ears perk up at the pet name. Her lips pursed in disgust. 

“Hey, fake bitches,” I groaned to the table as I sat down next to Ellie and across from Dina. I took a big gulp of my drink that burned the back of my throat. I look straight into Jesse’s eyes, “So, you stole my girl?” I said, deadly serious. 

Jesse’s eyes widened as he lowered his glass, his face blank when he looked back at me. Dina bit her lip to hold back a laugh, and Ellie, next to me, stared at her drink, unmoving. “I didn’t-” 

“YOU DID! You stole my girl, and you took her out of our bed this morning! You may be her boyfriend, but that woman right there!” I interrupted with a dramatic tone, pointing at Dina, “That is my sister. And, I think you need to be reminded of your place, Jesse.” then I looked back at Dina, who was bright red with lips twisted together to hold a laugh, “Dee, if you wanna fuck this meat-head then you can tell me so I don’t have to wake up to you two going at it.” 

“You’re just mad you’re not getting any from anyone,” Jesse commented under his breath, making me snap my head at him. 

I stare straight at him, my lip twitching from the smile forming,  my eyes burning into Jessie's. I cracked like glass under his silence and let out a belly laugh, which triggered the other's loud laughter, except Ellie. Ellie chuckled at the laughter as she sipped on the drink. She glanced over at me but didn’t say anything. 

“Okay, okay, I am not that mad,” I giggle and look at Dina, “but I would have liked to be told before it happened so we could discuss it, but I will have more fun with Ellie anyways, poser.” I continued. I lean into my seat, bumping shoulders with the quiet girl beside me. Ellie let out another halfhearted chuckle and a small smile at the table. She seemed to be inside her head tonight. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you yet because you would have convinced me to stay with you.” Dina laughed and drank the rest of her drink. She was glowing from the alcohol and seemed to be very happy. “I just thought it was a good idea for me and Jesse to see each other more.” 

Yeah, that is such a good idea. I bet you are going to be fighting the whole time…

“You guys back together?” Ellie asked, sipping her drink slowly. I turn my head over to look at her. I see the crinkle at the top of her eyebrow and how her lips are smaller than average from her subtle grimace. I looked over her face and noticed the amount of micro freckles that littered her pale face. She looked away from me. I disconnect from the conversation and sip the rest of my drink. I start to count the freckles on her face. 

21…22…23…24 Oh shit, she’s looking at me lookawaylookawaylookaway

“Are you even listening, Lola?” Ellie asked me. She glanced over at me with a more serious face.

“No, what?” I said bluntly, my cheeks heating up from getting caught looking at her, “I am a lightweight. You know this.” 

Ellie chuckled, and a small smile cracked on her lips. I grin back at her. “I was saying I don’t have patrol until Sunday, so you got an extra day off.” She said again. 

I grin wider at her, “Oh my god, your right! Good news for me!” I giggle and put my empty glass on the table. 

Dina and Jesse talk to each other. Dina stands up suddenly and pulls Jesse up with her. Dina looks at me, forcing me to look back at her. “We’re returning to the dance floor; see you tomorrow Lola.” 

“Uh, whatever. See you later.” I groan back at her with a fake glare to her. She only laughs and pulls the laughing man with her to their former position. I shake my head at the two and look over to Ellie. 

When I look over to Ellie, she is already looking at me. Her emerald green eyes stared at my face. She looked lost inside her head again but with a face that was soft in its blankness. The weight of her eyes locking into my brown ones spread heat throughout my chest and an immediate pressure sent to my arousal. My shyness from earlier completely hid away when I felt the air around us at that moment, but the fear only grew in my gut. No person has ever made me shudder internally like the girl in front of me at this moment. 

“You know that Ben has been looking at you all night?” Ellie asked seriously. She looked at me with her face turning back to her earlier look, with slight distaste. 

I smile at her and shake my head, “I don’t care if he is looking at me. He can look as long as he wants; I don’t want him.” 

“Well,” Ellie sighed and shook her head at me, not believing my flippancy about Ben, “Do you need someone to tell him to back off?” 

My smile grows even bigger, “No, you don’t have to. I will tell him to back off; He’s not who I want.” I say to her softly, giving her my best doe eyes. 

Ellie looks back at me, her face unchanged, but she shifts in her seat and raises an eyebrow. “Who do you want? Dina?” 

I rolled my head back and laughed out loud. “I love Dina like a sister. She’s my best friend, but I have never had feelings for her.” I started looking at Ellie, rolling my eyes slightly. “You really think I want Dina?” 

Ellie’s eyes widen, and she looks at her drink, taking a big gulp of the rest, making her face flinch slightly. “I don’t know you enough to know what you want.” She replied quietly, almost like she was thinking about that before she said it and it was confusing her a little bit, she started to pick at her cuticles. 

My smile slowly fell at her words, reminding me of my last romantic situation, like a slap in the face. I look at my hands. “I mean, we aren’t that close, but now that we are partners. We have plenty of time to get to know each other.” I said back softly, and I looked back up to Ellie. “Now, I am done for the night. Would you mind walking me home?” 

Ellie looked back at me like she was shocked when I asked her the question, but a smile grew. “Y-yeah, let’s get you home.” 

[sexymultifacetshadowling]

AITA for tricking my death-partner's new fledging into going back to his house?

My (M - 217M) partner turned his new (A - 20F) fledgling into a vampire about a week ago. As soon as A was conscious enough to walk she ran away from his place (from what M told me, he turned her without her consent, but it was a messy situation). M called me (318M) in desperation, asking me to get her back, since it is very dangerous for newly turned people to walk around (he also sounded very angry).

Now, we have been dating for about 134 years, I've never had someone as close to me as him, I'll even go as far to say that he is the most important thing in my life, but we fight quite a lot, and sometimes we need to take a break or too. When M called me, we hadn't seen each other since the late 1980s, so I immediately agree to help him, knowing this would help bring us back together.

I tracked A down no problem. She was in a random bar on the side of the road, hunting for anyone she could get, obviously starving. Now, this is the part where I may have been the asshole:

A was skittish, she was clearly nervous and scared of other vampires, so when I approached her I didn't mention that I was with M, just that I wanted to help her because she is new. She warmed up to me after a while, and as I helped her get some actual good quality blood in her system, A relaxed a fair bit with that usual post-feeding drunkenness that the younger vampires get, if you know what I mean.

Taking my chance, I told her I would take her somewhere safe, and led her through an alternative route to M's house. When A realized where we were going, she tried to run, but I'm far stronger than her, so I did end up grabbing her and took her to there anyway.

I delivered A, and M invited me to stay at his place, which was good since I haven't had a house of my own for quite a while now. So, I will be staying indefinitely.

Although M is very pleased with me, A is avoiding me like the plague, which I think is fair, but it is starting to get tiring since I can't go in the same room as her without A giving me deaths stares or making remarks about me being a liar and M's loyal dog (or something like that, I didn't really pay attention).

Tl;dr: my long-death partner asked me to retrieve his fledgling, I did, now she's mad at me and keeps insulting me when we meet.

So, AITA?

[angel-0f-verdun]

6 Intoxicating Inertia

Previous Chapter

I laid my head down in Maverick’s lap, feeling the booze flow through my system and fog my brain. It felt good to relax finally, I closed my eyes ready to let sleep consume my being. Maverick was fiddling with my hair taking it down from the bun I had it in. He ran his fingers through the messy pieces causing my eyelids to get even heavier. I didn’t know what it was but he had this ability to completely put me at ease. The car door closing woke me from my drifting, Goose and Crystal had disappeared.

“Babe, we’re back,” Maverick said to me. I groaned not wanting to move from my comfy position.

“What’d you call me?” I asked him, raising my head from his lap, and getting close to his face. I blew a stray strand of hair out of my face effectively hitting him in the face with it. I let out a giggle at his surprised reaction.

“Maeve, why would I call you anything else? I mean, unless you wanted me to,” He replied with a tenderness in his tone, watching me with those hazel eyes, my eyelids wanted to fall even more.

“You’re cute… I would like--” I stopped, thinking about how dark it was outside.

“Alright, alright let’s get you inside and patched up,” Maverick said softly to me, moving to get out of the car. He grabbed my hands as I pouted, not wanting to get out. He wouldn’t be able to move me past the center console, he moved up the passenger seat and folded down the backrest. I crawled on top of the seat in its flattened position not willing to use my feet. I reached out to him.

“Up!!” I said, my voice taking on the inflection of a child hoping to get what it wanted. He moved in giving me a hug, I took in his smell, spearmint and apples.

“You smell gooood.” I complimented him, enjoying his scent clinging onto him. He attempted to get out of my grasp with no success. Prying my hands off his figure, I groaned in his ear, annoyed that he wanted to get away from me.

“Thank you Maeve,” He thanked me, a grin appearing on his face.

“Mavvvv stopp” I begged him to quit moving as he was making my world spin. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder the sudden movement made my stomach churn unhappily. He shut the car door after successfully getting me out and walked towards the house, up the stairs, and to my room. He set me down in the chair near the desk.

“Stay here, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” He told me as if I were a dog that was prone to not listening. I nodded, starting to unbutton my dress whites, I didn’t get very far as the buttons were moving around. Frustrated, I wanted to just rip the shirt in half, but I kept trying, closing my eyes and feeling the buttons with my fingers instead of trying to focus on them. Although, closing my eyes made the room spin even more. As I got to the last button I sighed happily ripping the shirt from my arms, when it slipped over my right hand I winced feeling a small twinge in my hand. I threw the shirt in the closet and as I went to examine my wound Maverick walked back in with a small white box in his hands. He knelt down in front of me, took my hand, and placed it on the desk. He opened the box and retrieved an alcohol swab, ripping open the packaging. 

“This might sting a bit,” He instructed me looking into my eyes before looking back to the split skin on my knuckle. I watched as he pressed the swab down on my wound letting the tiny wipe pick up the now dried blood. I winced feeling the slight tinge of the alcohol as it hit the cut. I let out a hiss at the uncomfortable sensation. He lifted the swab and threw it in the trashcan, getting another and wiping around the cut getting all the blood off the skin that hadn’t been ripped. Maverick then retrieved the ointment, placing it gingerly on my knuckle.

“You know, this probably needs stitches,” He said as he went to grab a bandaid from the kit. I waved my free hand at him brushing him off. 

“Whatever it’ll be my newest addition to the collection… Just a new memory,” My words were starting to slur and I knew it was only a matter of time before I fell asleep. 

“A good one, I hope.” He replied as he finished closing up the kit and moving back towards the hall bathroom to put it away. I nodded, standing up from the chair a bit wobbly on my feet. I trudged over to the bed trying to slip out of my pants as I walked. It proved a difficult task as I tripped over the excess fabric and fell. 

“Fuck.” I exclaimed as I hit the floor. Maverick came racing into the room, the look of shock on his face had me giggling again. 

“Hell Maeve, I thought I told you to stay where you were.” He said to me. I just smiled, closing my eyes. He held out his hand to help me up, but I had another idea, which was to pull him down to the ground with me. As I did he let out a grunt as he tumbled down next to me, avoiding falling on top of me. 

“I should’ve seen that coming.” He said as he let out a chuckle, his head next to mine. I could tell he was staring at me based on the direction his voice was coming from. I looked in his direction,

“You know I would never admit this sober but I think you and I could have made a real go of it,” I told him the smile falling from my face. He propped himself up on his elbow looking at me more seriously.

“What do you mean could have?” He asked me. I opened my mouth attempting to phrase my next words carefully but my brain was going too fast for me to pick what I wanted to say. I shook my head ignoring my conscious voice. 

“Do you ever think about what you would be doing had you not joined the Navy?” I asked him attempting to get us past the awkwardness that I felt pressing against me.

“We still can and I’ll prove it to you,” I heard him quietly whisper, not letting the subject slip from his grasp easily. I smiled attempting to hide the pain I was feeling in my heart from a past life. He continued to answer my question, “Not really, it was always one of my dreams. My father was a fighter pilot, lost during Vietnam. I always assumed he was killed in action but our family never received confirmation. What would you do?” He asked me. 

“I’m not sure, I’ve always been this way. Growing up all I wanted to do was get away, the Navy gave me that. Now, I don’t know after all I’ve been through following this path, sometimes I think I would have been better off doing something else.” I told him, letting my eyes close, completely this time. 

***

My alarm rang out loudly, pissing me off. I groaned, reaching over to smack the damn device off, when I did my hand ended up hitting something softer than plastic.

“Ouch, what the fuck?” I heard his voice clear as day and I knew who was in here with me, Maverick. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, but what the hell are you even doing in here?” I asked him, annoyed, my head starting to pound from all the loud noises. 

“I must’ve fallen asleep… Sorry, I was watching–” He started as I grew more confused. He reached over to turn off the clock. I fell back onto the pillows covering my face with the extra one to block out the light. I grimaced, feeling the pain in my hand almost immediately when I tried to move it. I had no recollection of what had happened last night and wasn’t sure I wanted to know. 

“Can you get me some aspirin?” I asked him, changing the subject entirely. 

“Yeah give me a second.” He said as he moved towards the hall bathroom. I immediately flashed back to last night when Maverick was bandaging my hand, running back and forth between the two rooms. I sighed as I heard Maverick return from the bathroom with a glass of water and pills. I removed the pillow from my head, not willing to meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” I murmured out. I threw the pills into my mouth and swallowed a sip of water with them. I could see him nod from my peripheral vision. 

“Better get dressed. We’ve got class and flight time today from what I hear. Should be enough time to power through your hangover though.” He told me, leaving the room to go to his own. I nodded, throwing the covers off my body and moving towards the closet. My hand gravitated toward my flight suit, picking it up off the hanger setting it down on the bed. I looked at the clock wondering if I had enough time to shower. It was 06:00 so I knew I had ample time. I had already put my toiletries in the bathroom yesterday so I knew I had what I needed. I went to the hall closet and grabbed a fresh towel before heading to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me, locking it before I started to get out of my clothes. I started the water, letting it heat up to the perfect temperature, and hopped in. I scrubbed myself until I felt the smell of booze was gone. I washed my hair to make sure that it wasn’t greasy from last night. Once I was done I got out, dried off, and brushed my hair making sure to get every last tangle before I threw it into a ponytail, I would do the rest of the bun later. I wrapped the towel around my body and left the restroom for my room. I put on a clean undershirt and shorts then put the flight suit on followed by my socks and boots. I grabbed my flight bag and helmet and started down the stairs to the kitchen. 

“Hey, how’s the hand?” I heard Crystal greet me from the table across from the island. She was chomping on a bowl of cereal. 

“Agh thanks for reminding me. What the hell happened last night?” I asked her as I grabbed some cereal, milk, and a bowl. 

“Well, do you want the condensed version or the detailed version?” She asked me. I groaned, it was worse than I thought if that was her question to me. 

“Detailed, I guess,” I told her.

“How much do you actually remember?” She asked knowing it wasn’t much.

“Well, I remember getting to the bar, getting drinks, talking to Iceman… After that, it kind of goes blank.” I told her, pouring the cereal into the bowl, followed by the milk. 

“Well, you chugged one of your vodka tonics because ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’ came on. Then you went to the bar to get another. Started a bar fight, kissed Maverick, and then I took us home before they called the cops… You really don’t remember any of that?” She questioned. riddling off the list of things that were an absolute blur to me. 

“I mean I kind of remember— wait, go back, I kissed Maverick??” I asked her.

“Yeah, just to fight some dude who pissed you off I’m pretty sure.” She smiled as she took another bite of cereal. 

“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t someone else who woke up in my bed this morning,” I told her. She practically choked on her food. 

“WHAT?” She asked me, completely taken for a loop. 

“Yeah, I smacked him thinking he was my alarm, rude awakening for him,” I told her, walking over to the table to sit down. 

“What happened?! Oh my god, does this mean??” She started rambling. I stopped her with my hand to quit. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t asked him yet, and no it doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” I told her, rolling my eyes and starting to eat. 

“I remember him bandaging up my hand and that’s really it. Fucking hurts like hell today, should’ve gone to the hospital honestly.” I told her as I examined my knuckle, wondering if there was an Ace bandage stored around the house somewhere. 

“Well Maeve, you should probably talk to him and figure out what happened between you two.” She said as she took a sip of her coffee.

“No, because then it makes it a big deal and I’m not really sure where I’m at with the whole situation,” I told her not willing to back down from my stance. She nodded as I continued eating. 

“Where are they anyway?” I asked her, noticing that the boys were nowhere in sight. 

“I think they’re eating outside.” She told me, the day shift and night shift were colliding and we had such different patterns. I groaned, not willing to move from my spot here just to talk to him about something so trivial and ridiculous. I would’ve rather not known anything at all but my curiosity got the best of me. 

“How’s the hangover?” She asked me.

“Ah, splitting my head in two, but I’ll be fine, what time did we get back?” I asked her.

“Around 22:00.” She answered. I normally recover fast from things like this. The regulations required us to stop drinking 8 hours before our flight time, so our flight time being around 10 am, we would’ve had to stop drinking at 2 am. Since it was more than likely that I stopped drinking by then I’d be legal and fine to go on the flight. I heard the door squeak open and close behind me and I knew our company had arrived. 

“I see you managed to find the provisions that Crystal and I picked up Maeve.” Goose said. I smiled as I felt him pat me on the shoulder and sit in the chair to my right, as Maverick took my left. 

“How’s the head?” He asked me. 

“It’ll be better when we get this class over with,” I told him, not wanting to really do anything today but sleep until this passed.

“You happen to pick up an Ace bandage?” I asked him.

“Yeah actually with Crystal’s proactive thinking, we did.” He said as he looked to Crystal who handed me the bandage out of a Walmart bag. I smiled at her gratefully. It was black which would be fine with the uniform. I put down my spoon, starting to wrap my hand in a brace-like fashion. Maverick noticed I was having an issue with starting the wrap and grabbed the bandage from me without a second thought.

“Thank you,” I told him quietly. He smirked at me as he finished up the wrap, placing his hand on it to make sure it was good to go. He lingered there for a moment before clearing his throat and standing.

“We should probably get going,” He said taking my bowl from me and taking it to the sink. I grabbed my stuff again and headed towards the door, my keys in my hand. 

“Crystal you wanna ride with me?” I asked her. She looked to Goose, 

“Actually I was going to go with Goose, it’ll give you and Maverick a chance to talk” She whispered the last part. Goose spun around looking for his keys to keep himself occupied as he had heard that last part.

“Alright Maverick, let’s go,” I grunted out to him walking towards my car and unlocking the doors. I waited for him, noticing that he wasn’t near me yet, I spun around toward the front door. 

“Mav!” I yelled at him, wondering where he went. 

“Yeah, I figured we could take my bike?” I groaned, getting into my car and grabbing my Raybans before locking my doors and conforming to his decision. I put on my sunglasses, 

“Fine,” I said as I put my hand through the strap on my flight helmet and my flight bag on my back. He got on first and started up the bike. I followed his lead straddling the bike.

“Don’t you dare kill me!” I told him as I gripped the metal behind me. He laughed, as he pulled out of the driveway slowly. He started going faster when we hit the highway, weaving in and out of traffic. He slowed down abruptly causing me to fall into his back. I wrapped my arms around his waist and I felt his breathing stop for a moment. 

“Finally Reaper, Jesus.” He said under his breath, I smirked as I realized he had been wanting that in the first place. This wasn’t the time or place to talk about last night with him so I decided to just enjoy the ride. It wasn’t too long before we pulled up to the security gate at the airport, I peeled my hands from Maverick’s waist, giving my ID badge to the guard. They let us through, giving us the ID cards back. Maverick pulled up outside a hanger, parked his bike out of the way, and stopped the engine. I got off the bike and walked into the hangar seeing a makeshift classroom on the hard concrete inside instead of planes. It felt like home, just off the runway. I would love to renovate a hanger like this one into a home, but that was a far thought, almost no guy would want to live somewhere like this. 

“Reaper!! Fucking awesome night last night. You definitely earned my respect, Mav, you better watch out, some of us might want a shot at her too.” Iceman greeted me, I nodded sitting down and waiting for Crystal and Goose to show up, resting my head on my arms covering my face from the light.

“Yeah, I would expect you to be hungover from last night, you want some aspirin?” I heard Slider ask me. 

“Please,” I said as I heard Crystal’s chair make a terrible squeaking noise across the floor as she arrived.

“Sorry.” She whispered to me. I nodded ignoring the pounding that had started in my head. Slider handed me two pills out of his bag and a water bottle. I nodded in appreciation as he went back to sit down. Taking the pills quickly with the water, I knew I had some a couple of hours ago but more could only help at this point… Hopefully, it would solve all the issues I was having. 

“Good morning everyone as you can see behind us your jets have been delivered. You’ll be happy to know nothing arrived broken. We’ve already done a preliminary inspection on them just to be safe. While you’re in this program you’ll be trained and evaluated by a few civilian specialists. The civilians are here because they are our very best source of information on enemy aircraft. One of the most qualified is our TAGREP, callsign, Charlie. She has a PhD in astrophysics and she’s also a civilian contractor, so you do not salute her. But you better listen to her because the Pentagon listens to her about your proficiency. It’s all yours Charlie.” Jester said to us as he stepped out of the way of Charlie who was currently strutting down our makeshift aisle in her high heels. I wanted to burn a hole through her heels with my eyes as the noise was very irritating on the concrete and did not help the migraine that threatened to take over. She spun around to face us, she had very pretty blue eyes that were complimented by her short curly blonde hair. I sighed pissed because more than likely she would have affairs every couple of months with the students in her class. These men were hard to resist, even to a woman of a higher stature, they embodied everything that someone could possibly want, but when you got to know them they were difficult to get along with. I almost envied her position, had I not gone the military route perhaps I’d be teaching and free of my past that plagued me every step I took. 

“Thank you, hello, we will be dealing with the F-5s and A-4s as our MiG simulators. Now then as most of you know the F-5 doesn’t have the thrust-to-weight ratio that the MiG-28 has, and it doesn’t bleed energy below 300 knots, like the MiG-28. However, the MiG-28 does have a problem with it’s inverted flight tanks. It won’t do a negative G pushover. The latest intelligence tells us that the most it will do is 1 negative G…” She paused watching Maverick lean over to Goose and whisper into his ear. I rolled my eyes, apparently, it was already time to be a show-off and annoy all the other pilots and RIOs in the room. 

“Excuse me, lieutenant. Is there something wrong?” She asked Maverick as he slid his sunglasses onto his face to block out the sun that was threatening our eyes. 

“Yes, ma’am, the data on the MiG is inaccurate.” Maverick cleared his throat before telling her that she was an idiot. 

“How’s that, lieutenant?” She asked him amused, preventing herself from laughing out loud. Maverick took off his glasses to emphasize some sort of point he was getting at. 

“Well, I just happened to see a MiG-28 do…” Maverick started, Goose didn’t let him get very far though. 

“We... We.” Goose said, looking at him pointedly, annoyed that Maverick had left him out, a smile broke out on my face. Fucking Goose, never wanted to be left out of the action that Maverick got them into. Crystal elbowed me, 

“I taught him that,” She said snickering. I almost lost my composure, these men were toddlers sometimes who couldn’t find a way to stick up for themselves. But I’m glad Crystal had taught him where to find his balls. 

“Sorry Goose.” Maverick paused looking at his RIO before turning back to Charlie. 

“We happened to see a MiG-28 do a four-G negative dive.” He corrected himself, making sure Goose was included this time. 

“Where did you see this?” She asked him more questions. 

“That’s classified,” Maverick told her, I could tell he was smirking before I even heard the words come out of his face. 

“It’s what?” She asked this time confused.

“It’s classified. I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.” Maverick continued to mansplain to her. 

“Lieutenant, I have top-secret clearance. The Pentagon sees to it that I know more than you.” She countered, I will admit it seemed she could stand up for herself. She almost impressed me, but barely. 

“Well, ma’am, it doesn’t seem so in this case, now does it?” Maverick replied his smart ass just couldn’t stop with the snarky comments. I understood this in a way because civilians did like to pretend they were smarter than we were. It was almost as if they just thought we were there to fly and look pretty but didn’t know anything.

“So Lieutenant, where exactly were you?” Charlie persisted in asking him. 

“Well, we…” Maverick paused dramatically yet again to receive praise from Goose. 

“Thank you,” Goose replied before Mav continued. 

“Started up on his six when he pulled through the clouds and then I moved in above him.” Maverick started to explain finally getting to his point. 

“Well, if you were directly above him how could you see him?” Charlie asked. This conversation was starting to feel a bit personal to both of them. I could feel eyes on my back which made me turn to see Iceman. 

“True?” He mouthed to me. I shrugged, not entirely sure because it was before my shift that they were engaged with the MiG and we’d really never had a conversation about it. 

“Because I was inverted,” Maverick told her. 

“Bullshit.” Iceman coughed out. 

“No, he was man, it was a really great move. He was inverted.” Goose said, looking back to the perpetrator who had called them out. 

“You were in a four-G inverted dive with a MiG-28?” She asked this time disbelievingly. She wasn’t alone, no one really seemed to believe it. I wasn’t sure what I believed. 

“Yes ma’am,” Maverick told her. 

“At what range?” She asked continuing on her line of questioning. Maverick and Goose stopped answering to have a sidebar. 

“About two meters?” Maverick asked Goose.

“It was actually about one and a half I think. It was one and a half. I’ve got a great Polaroid of it. He’s right there. It must be one and a half. It was a nice picture.” Goose explained to not only Maverick but the entire class as well. I heard two other pilots behind me stifle their laughter. 

“Lieutenant, what were you doing there?” She asked.

“Thanks, I like my pictures.” Goose was continuing on his random thought, “Communicating,” Goose said to Mav giving him the answer. 

“Communicating… Keeping up foreign relations. I was you know, giving him the bird.” Maverick said unrelenting. 

“You know, the finger,” Goose told her as he flipped off our new instructor in question. 

“Yes, I know the finger, Goose.” She said, I smiled, I always did enjoy Goose's dry sense of humor. He could always make me laugh when it was needed. 

“I’m sorry, I hate it when it does that. Sorry.” He apologized to her putting his middle finger away. 

“So you’re the one,” Charlie said to Maverick. I just about choked on the water that I had been sipping on for this entire conversation. 

“Yes ma’am.” He replied. 

“All right, gentleman, we have a hop to take. The hard deck on this hop will be 10,000ft, there will be no engagement below that. Move it.” Jester said from the back of the classroom breaking up the weird energy that had filled the room. I sighed, what had transpired in that classroom had made me want to puke, had we learned anything? No not really except that a MiG can in fact do a negative G pushover. I had a feeling that Charlie had manipulated that conversation out of Maverick in order to find out who the pilot was on the briefing she had read for that particular mission. Crystal and I walked down the hallway through the upstairs lounge and to the girl's locker room. I leaned my head against the cold metal enjoying the feeling. 

“You gonna be alright for our flight?” Crystal asked me, genuinely curious as she put her books in her own locker. 

“Yeah I’ll be fine, let’s go blow some bitches out of the water,” I said to her putting my things away as well and heading out to the tarmac for the preflight. 

Next chapter

[burnwater13]

Grogu wondered how and when the Mandalorian had obtained the Razor Crest. It was an old ship, but it had been set up pretty nicely for a single lonely person to use it to retrieve bounties cold. Grogu knew the saying was “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” But let’s face it, Din Djarin only brought people in cold.

A couple things led Grogu to that conclusion. First there was plenty of storage for folks turned into carbonite wall decorations, but there was only one bunk room. With one bed. Just the one. And it was pretty narrow. It only fit one person. The Mandalorian had to make up a hammock for Grogu to sleep comfortably and Grogu was small.

Then, the privy, well… that’s enough said. If you expected other people to be able to use it, there might have been a sanitizer with a nice smell to it or even a second place to put a tooth brush. (Dank Farrik! That meant the Mandalorian could and did take his helmet off! He just did it out of everyone’s view.)

The work bench was set up with everything just the way Din Djarin liked it and the weapons cabinet didn’t have any spare room at all. Even if Grogu had wanted to store the silver ball in there, nope, no room. 

All these were signs that Din Djarin didn’t have warm folks in the ship for any length of time. Grogu thought that was too bad. He didn’t like thinking that the Mandalorian had been on his own for most of his life. Sure, they had that in common, but that wasn’t really a great thing to have in common, right? It was like saying, ‘Nope, no tattoos, but I’ve got a great scar on my knee’, and the other person saying, ‘Me too! I have a great scar on my knee! Twins!’ That wasn’t fun. Comparing wounds wasn’t the same as sharing interests. Din Djarin disagreed with him about this, by the way.

So, where did the Mandalorian get the ship? Was it already set up for the lonely life of a Mandalorian bounty hunter? Someone must have taught him all about the work. He did it really well and was considered the best bounty hunter in the Outer Rim. Did he inherit it from his teacher? Did he just take it over, when the other person retired? Did he steal it?

No, Grogu was certain that the Mandalorian Creed wouldn’t let him just steal things. Grogu had noticed Din Djarin paying for all sorts of things, so he couldn’t imagine him stealing the ship but paying for cleaning up after a messy bounty encounter. Although, those other Mandalorians had taken that ship from the Imps… was that stealing? His Mandalorian had helped with that. Would he get in trouble for that? 

Grogu didn’t know the answer to that question. But he did worry about things like that on the Mandalorian’s behalf. Did the person who sold (yes, he must have purchased it fair and square) him the Razor Crest know how he was going to use it? Was it ever used for anything else before it was turned into a Mandalorian bachelor pad? 

The thought of that made Grogu giggle. He just couldn’t imagine his protector having a partner of any kind. That person would want things to be different. Less room used on weapons and more room for proper food storage and preparation. Rations could be shared, but why? And all those  sharp edges… they’d have to be protected. The Mandalorian’s armor was hard enough to deal with, but Grogu had caught his coverall on sharp edges and thresholds more times than he could count. No one else was going to put up with that, unless they also wore beskar armor all the time. 

That made Grogu giggle even harder when he thought about that. Imagine two Mandalorians in full armor, wearing their helmets trying to share that space. No way. They’d both be trying to get somewhere first. They’d both want to be the pilot. They’d both want to fill the weapons cabinet with all their weapons. There wasn’t even enough room for a proper ‘fresher, how would they ever manage two carbonite systems?

Grogu might not know where the Razor Crest came from, but he thought he understood why Din Djarin had selected it. It was just right for him. 

Now that Grogu was part of his life they needed a new ship. He just hoped it had a better privy and roomier place to sleep.