#and then the next day sibs started arguing

[shortqueershakespeare]

Funny that my migraines can sometimes just look like me being too fucking tired and foggy to mediate between family members

[b-rainlet]

Green sibs wanting to have another sibling but doesn't want anyone touching their mother.

So they decide that it's their seed taking place in her womb but whose seed?🤭🤭

OBSESSED

I am sorry but my first thought was pertaining Helaena. Like, are her and Aegon married? Does she have kids already? Because imagine Helaena's thoughts and feelings watching all her brothers fight over impregnating their Mother.

Alicent is a sweet girl who knows how to behave in front of nobles, who understands what she can do with the little power she possesses and how she has to rely on kindness to get what she wants (Sansa-coded <3) and then there's her only daughter, who sometimes cannot control what blurts out of her mouth, who's strange and off-putting and who Alicent has trouble connecting to.

The Daughter who gets married to her older Brother as is tradition, but all her older brother can think and talk about is their Mother. They make love and it's clear Aegon is treating it as a chore to make their Mother proud. Helaena gets pregnant and Aegon only starts smiling once Alicent hugs him and tells him he did good.

There's her two younger brothers, Aemond and Daeron, but while Daeron spends the precious few days he has with his family trying to impress their Mother, trying to get as much attention from her as possible, Aemond - who's arguably Alicent's favourite and the one she connects to the most - never has to try at all. Alicent's thoughts are always with him, when he isn't there he's the first thing she asks about (and not in the weary way she asks after Aegon, afraid of the answer; she sounds almost distressed to not have him at her side, within her eyesight).

And where does that leave Helaena? Always alone, always an afterthought within her own family. She's loved, she knows, by her Children and by her Mother and by her Brothers, but it feels almost like a sort of duty to love.

She's loved because she's a Sister, she's loved for being a Daughter, but never for love's sake.

Now suddenly, her Brothers are arguing over their Mother and getting her with Child and none of them ever argued about her like that. She was never wanted like that, not even by the Brother she had to marry and she's too much of a dutiful wife to let her affections ever stray but it still leaves her bitter.

She is their Mother as much as their Brothers are, why do they forget?

Probably not the kinda answer you wanted but I couldn't help myself.

There are several ways I could see this go down:

Helaena dyes her hair darker to look more like their Mother and her Brothers suddenly have very confusing feelings regarding their Sister (which could totally blow up in her face the moment Aegon has sex with her and calls her Mother)

Helaena's been angsting in her head but the only reason the boys never fought about her like that is because Aegon called dips ages ago and Aemond is actually waiting for Aegon to give his okay to make love to Helaena (because he's a dweeb and can only 'make love')

She teams up with Daeron because Daeron also feels like an afterthought next to the perfect son and (arguably but not to me) Alicent's favourite son and Daeron knocks up Helaena while Aegon and Aemond are busy arguing over Alicent

Helaena does not knock her Mother up (obviously) but she's the one who beds their Mother first (and it's kinda harsh because Helaena has to work through some things)

Somebody else (and I am voting Larys or Otto for the creep factor and Ser Criston for the 'I am still only coming in second after my Mother' factor) takes advantage of Helaena's vulnerable state and impregnates her and the Green boys are so very mad about it but also cannot do much because that's on them.

[a-tale-of-legends]

Luca and R.B feelings towards the BB league + Kitakami sibs.

Luca:

Kieran - Crush on him. Obvious crush on him. Feels A Lot about him, despite his denial. Is incredibly happy they're starting over again. Literally attached to the hip post ID lmao.

Carmine - Originally just saw her as his Cousin but More. And to an extent still does. But seeing how she wants to change for Kieran and herself and is trying to be better, he can safely call her a friend :)

Lacey- FELLOW PINK FAIRY LOVER YAAAAAY. they get along super well! Lacey made him a crochet plush one time :3

Amarys - Admittedly hard to gather how they would interact. Though I think she's more than happy that Kieran has found someone to look after him. I think they're friends too, albeit maybe not super close.

Crispin - Any friend of Kieran is a friend of his!I think they match each other's energy very well! Luca might be a teeny tiny bit jealous of how he much closer he seems with Kieran, but overall I think they're buddies.

Drayton - He! Does not like drayton, sorry. He was pretty neutral on the guy buuuuut everything up to the end of his battle with Kieran rubbed him the wrong way :/ Luca is still nice to him of course, and does hope they can be friends one day.

R.B:

Kieran - She kinda sees a bit of herself in him, but also isn't afraid to speak to him as her equal. As in she will be blunt with him. That being said, they're not super close atm, since she wasn't as involved in the kitakami stuff. But I 100% believe R.B gets him into goth fashion, even lending him her old clothes :)

Carmine - Formerly, they mutually disliked each other, which continued in ID until they had to work together. They wouldn't exactly consider each other a friend yet, but they're more lighter on each other than before. They still argue, but it's more playful this time around. They talk smack about drayton together.

Lacey - I think Lacey would call R.B cute ( platonically) and R.B would explode. They have incredibly different vibes but R.B is besties with Luca so it's not that hard for her to chill with Lacey. Lacey is too polite to talk smack about Drayton, but know she is Agreeing.

Amarys - Despite her relationship with Carmine, I think these two get along well. In a more " we don't talk at all but it doesn't matter because we immediately Get It" type of way. R.B appreciates how much of sweetheart Amarys is, she will cry about it.

Crispin - Yay someone to cook food for her. Really, she likes Crispin and REALLY appreciates how direct he is. Not the brightest z but he got spirit and she respects that.

Drayton - 🖕 Yeah.

Sorry for the Drayton slander but heeee did not leave a good impression for either of them. Maybe in the future they all can vibe ( I can see Drayton and R.B chilling) but yeah. Sorry Drayton, better luck next time.

[maki-matsurra]

If you’re certain! Could I maybe request Wakko and Dot’s reaction to the first ask I sent if that’s alright? And how Yakko feels about them knowing and stuff? There’s like no animaniacs writers on here that I know of and you do a wonderful job anyways!! Thank you!! ❤️

Yeah! Of course!

My new nickname for you Anon is gonna be 🥺Anon cause I like you and how polite you are 🥺❤️😭

So, how would Dot and Wakko react? And how Yakko feels about it? Hmm, I think I can do this!

I’m gonna go ahead and assume you want these as head canons as well ^^

Want to send in a request? Start here!

Wakko and Dot’s Reaction to (Y/N) being Yakko’s Scripted Lover

Woo Boy, if you looked up nosy in the dictionary, these twos faces would pop up.

They were already curious as to why they couldn’t go with Yakko to the office, no matter how much they begged, they couldn’t come. Yakko had to pull the one card he rarely uses.

“Wakko, Dot. Sit and Stay.”

The tone he used was his “father tone”, meaning that there was no arguing with him on this. They whined and did so, waiting for him to come back home.

And once he did, they were even more curious. He came home annoyed, making them ask what was going on, and he just put on a smile and shrugged it off.

“Ahhh…. Don’t worry about it sibs! Just something that came up with season two last minute.”

Okay, now they were officially curious.

Until they met you next day for shooting. Wakko was a little sheepish, but Dot already adored you!

“Another girl on the set? Finally! My prayers have been answered!”

Cue Wakko and Yakko facepalming in the background.

They didn’t really suspect anything was going on between you two until Yakko stopped mid-scene to just stare at you, his face flushed.

They have never seen Yakko act like that to a girl. Never.

Wakko was more of the one to do that, so the younger Warners were going to pull off a Sherlock Holmes and do some investigating.

After shooting, once Yakko asked you to go to a dairy-free ice cream parlor, they begged to come too, and again, Yakko had to pull out his father tone, making the two pout and scowl.

That was until as Yakko turned and walked away, you kneeled down and whispered to them with a smile and a wink.

“What flavors would you guys want? I can bring them to you.”

You got Wakko’s vote immediately.

But they still were gonna do some investigating.

The two started to see Yakko bring you Starbucks, and give you kisses, and hold your waist. They turned to each other and whispered.

“You don’t think…?”

“Of course not! Yakko was never the one to get into a serious relationship… right?”

What shut them up immediately was when he kissed you. Wakko covered his eyes while Dot covered her mouth as they saw from a distance.

They were shocked. Yakko never seriously kissed a girl before. And it was you!

They looked at each other and ran to the water tower.

Oh boy, when Yakko came home and saw that the pair was waiting for him, he became nervous.

“Uhh… Hey sibs! What’s going on! Heh heh!��

“We know about your little *ahem* relationship with (Y/N).”

If his face could get any paler, it would, and he started to sweat.

“O-Oh… and Uhm… how do you feel about it?” He asked nervously, worried his sibs would not like you.

That was his biggest fears. You not liking his sibs or they not liking you.

Wakko and Dot nodded to each other, then grew a great big smile.

“When can she come over?!”

[janetbrown711]

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

Wakko was angry.

Very, very angry.

He thought Dot was on his side- but she was easily swayed by that dumb doctor.

Ooh, that doctor made his blood boil. He suggested talking to Yakko, but that wasn't going to work because he was hypnotized by Max. Scratchnsniff didn't understand- he couldn't possibly understand what it was like to watch a brother who swore he'd die for you just... abandon you out of nowhere.

He thought his mother would understand too, but it seemed she was fooled too, wanting him to give Max a shot. Yeah right- would she suggest he "just give Grandma a shot?". No. It was clear she was underestimating Max's control of Yakko. He wasn't just "a little carried away". He was hypnotized- he had to be.

If he wasn't, then...

If Dot and his mom wanted to give up on him, fine. He could save Yakko all on his own. He had the brains. He'd just have to go a little bit further this time- to make sure Max would never want to come back ever again. He had to make sure Max knew he wasn't welcome and do it in a sneakier way so he wouldn't get caught this time.

Wakko was going to lock Max in the tower.

And he knew just how he'd do it.

He had already stolen the key, though his paranoia made him check to see if the door had been blocked up constantly. however- he even took a step beyond, making sure a key similar enough replaced it, to assure no one would notice it was gone.

As far as getting Max there, he knew he wasn't strong enough or tall enough to drag or force him to the tower, so he'd have to make him want go up there himself. Going off of his mom's "advice", he figured he'd just say that he wanted to talk with him alone in a letter or note or something, which was easy enough. The hard part would be getting it to Max without being seen. He didn't have time to send it in the mail, as he was visiting the very next day.

So that meant he'd just have to wait for an opportune moment when the day arrived.

Which he did.

He ate breakfast just with Dot, apparently, his parents and Yakko had gotten up earlier and were busy this morning- which he was fine with. He wasn't exactly feeling chatty, though Dot kept giving him looks which he ignored.

If she knew anything, she didn't say, so Wakko moved on with his day.

When Max arrived at Warnerstock castle, it went much like it did the first time: with Max only giving them side glances but otherwise ignoring their existences and running off with Yakko. What made it different though was Dot going with their parents and goofy, leaving Wakko by himself to enact his plan.

Normally he would've felt offended at such an exclusion but he needed to enact his plan somehow, and he had already set up a room with art supplies to help distract him while he waited for them to break for lunch before he could plant his note.

Thankfully, the hours passed rather quickly, and Wakko was able to make his move. Hurriedly, he ran into the room Yakko and Max always hung out in and placed the note carefully in Max's satchel (he always brought one to bring gifts for Yakko from Disneyland or something like that according to the letters) before running with all his might to the tower, unlocking the first door and climbing up the fifty feet to the top, unlocking that heavy iron door, and slowly and painfully pulling it open and hiding behind, hoping Max wouldn't be suspicious of it being open when he arrived.

Unlike before though, it was a very, very long time before he heard Max at the bottom of the tower. With each step Max took, Wakko's heart raced more and more as he gripped the key in his hands tighter.

He had to do this. He had to make Max hate him- hate all of them. He had to make Max know he wasn't welcome- that he couldn't get away with separating his siblings.

Max was a bad person. He deserved this.

By the time Max reached the top, Wakko's heart was racing, and he kept a hand over his mouth to make sure his breath was silent. He made sure Max was deep into the dark and dusty room before Wakko pushed the heavy door shut with all his might, scrambling to lock it and scurrying down the stairs as fast as he could- ignoring Max's shouts and questions as he pounded against the iron door.

Max was a bad person. He was trying to take Yakko away from him.

As he scrambled down, his mind was flooded with memories.

Dot's cries, the ache in his ears, the horror as he looked down, the banging of his head against the floor, the slamming of the iron door, the hopelessness-

Max was a bad person. He deserved this.

Wakko ran faster, closing his eyes best he could in a poor attempt to suppress the memories. He almost kissed the ground when he reached the bottom, but he didn't waste his time, running out and locking the door as fast as possible before running all the way to his room and laying down in his bed and burying his head under his pillow in hopes his breathing and heart would calm eventually.

However, his head throbbed as the memories he was trying so desperately to swallow surfaced once more.

"Let go of him!" Dot had shouted, pulling on Angelina's dress- and before Wakko knew it, his grandmother's grip was tight around his neck as he felt himself dangling off the ledge. He shouldn't have looked down, but he did.

Dear god- he was going to die.

"Shout at me again young lady, and I will," Angelina threatened, her grip around his neck tightening.

"Wait- please! Don't hurt him-!" Dot got on her knees and begged, tears streaming down her face as she made eye contact with him.

Dear god he wished he was a lot braver.

"Go back downstairs, Angelina. You've done enough today," Angelina spat on Dot's face. It filled Wakko with rage, but he couldn't fight back. He saw Dot's look of defeat as she lowered her head.

"Good girl," That bitch of a grandmother said, and Wakko felt a return to the ground. He immediately went to go hug Dot, but she grabbed his arm and forced him away from his sobbing little sister before tossing him in that disgusting and dark prison.

"How long do you plan to leave me in here, huh?!" He had shouted, his voice betraying him and cracking as tears filled his eyes. He pounded against the door demanding a response, but the only response he got was mumbles from his grandmother, and a yelp of pain from Dot.

He continued to pound his fists against the door with everything he had in him for hours on end. He had to make her suffer- she couldn't get away with this. She couldn't just hurt his siblings like that- she needed to pay.

By the end his hands were bruised and bloody and his voice practically vanished due to the shouting. Eventually- he just gave up, hugging his knees as he begged for this nightmare to end, somehow.

Angelina the First was a fucking monster.

...was Max really the same?

O-of course he was. He was taking Yakko away from him- from him AND Dot. Angelina did that too. She knew they were weaker seperated and always divided them, and Max knows the same.

Sure Angelina never made Yakko happy ever... but that meant Max was just more of a threat, right? His techniques were new- Yakko didn't know how to protect himself against them. Wakko was just doing what he had to to protect his sibs.

Wakko was doing what he had to.

Time passed- a lot of it. Eventually someone came into his room, and Wakko buried himself under his blanket, clutching the key as tight as he could, hoping they'd just assume he was asleep.

"Wak, have you seen-? Oh-" It was Yakko, embarrassed that he "interrupted Wakko's nap".

"Sorry- I'll just-... have a nice nap," Yakko apologized and left.

See? His plan was already working.

...Right?

God, would the pounding in his chest ever stop???

He was just doing what he had to.

Just what he had to.

.o0o.

More time passed, though Wakko couldn't be sure how much. All he knew was that Yakko had begun to worry, seriously searching through every room in the castle (as Wakko could hear from the door slams). He didn't check on Wakko again, but there were a few close calls. Eventually, Yakko must've employed his parents help though, as he soon started hearing them begin to search too.

It dawned on Wakko that perhaps he should've forged a note from Max that said he ran away or something- that would've prevented the searches and made Yakko hate Max too.

Oh well- hindsight and all that.

The pounding in his chest never stopped.

Eventually, he heard his door creak open slowly as he quickly tried to pretend he was still sleeping, but Dot wasn't easily fooled, as she climbed onto his bed and shook his shoulder, pulling back the blanket.

"Max is missing and mom told me to get you to help search. If you have anything to do with this- I swear-" Dot's eyes fell onto the key in Wakko's hands.

"...You didn't-" Dot's eyes widened. Wakko nearly jumped off the bed.

"I-it's not what you think-!" Wakko fumbled in shock, but Dot took the opportunity and snatched the key from his hand and ran out of the room, and after Wakko processed what happened, he chased after.

"Dot give it back!" Wakko shouted at her.

"No! His dad is looking for him and Yakko is really upset! I won't let you keep him there!" Dot shouted back.

"You're just brainwashed! He's manipulating you- just like grandma!" Wakko disputed.

"No he isn't Wakko!" Dot contended. "You're the only one who thinks that!"

"I'm just doing what I have to to protect Yakko! Yakko would never have left us before Max arrived- why can't you see that?!" He argued back.

Eventually, Dot slowed and sighed.

"Max is nothing like Grandma- he's pretty cool and is nice and has a nice dad and Yakko really cares about him. He doesn't deserve to be locked in there- just like how you didn't," Dot's grip on the key tightened.

"Locked in where?"

To Wakko's horror, Yakko and Lena weren't too far away.

Neither sibling responded, As Dot gripped the key tighter. However, she didn't hide it, and eventually Lena noticed, her face mortified with recognition.

She looked at Wakko a moment, before shaking her head and taking the key, hurriedly walking toward the tower.

"Locked where? Where does that key go?" Yakko asked innocently as he followed along- he was the only one of the four who hadn't seen it before.

Dot and Wakko decided to follow too, despite the dread that filled both of them with every step (though Dot's was more of empathy than of direct guilt).

However, Yakko was clever, and eventually he recognized the halls.

He grabbed the key from his mother's hand and bolted to the tower, unlocking the door as fast as he could, and running up the stairs at least 3 at a time.

Lena, Dot and Wakko stayed at the bottom silently.

Eventually, the heavy iron door creaked open, and Max was released- the pair making their way down slowly. Wakko didn't hear a word either of them said- the pounding in his head louder than ever as he suppressed tears.

However, when he reached the bottom, he made eye contact with Max.

He didn't... seem mad. Just tired.

"Max, please give your father our sincerest apologies. We're terribly sorry this happened- if there's anything we can do to make up for it, please let us know," Lena apologized.

"Yeah, okay," Max shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Likely the grand foyer with William- Yakko, would you-?"

"No, I can walk myself." Max interrupted, giving a quick nod to each of them before walking out, leaving everyone frozen as he walked away.

Shit.

His plan worked, but he still felt like crap. Why??? Max was bad. He tried to seperate- he was bad. He-

"Wakko- what the fuck was that?!" Yakko's face was full of tears as he grabbed his brother's collar.

"Yakko- let go of your brother. Now." Lena ordered.

"No- what the fuck?! First, you try to ruin our hang outs, then you read my letters, and then you lock him in the prison our grandmother threw you in and left you to starve??? What is wrong with you?!" Yakko demanded.

"Yakko, I said now." Lena broke them apart.

"Y-you were so blinded by him-!"

"Because I like him, Wakko! He's a good guy!!!"

"He was trying to take you away!!!"

"No he wasn't-! God- are you even listening to us? How many times have we tried to tell you you're delusional!" Yakko threw his hands in the air.

"I am not!!! Why can't you see it-!" Wakko began to tear up too.

"God- are you seriously gonna cry?! You're the one who decided to possible ruin the only fucking friendship I've ever had outside of my family and not only that- but you also possibly just ruined Warnerstock's relationship with Max's Kingdom too!"

Wakko took a step back at that.

"I-i didn't-"

He looked at his mom and Dot- their looks confirming.

"No... No- i- I can't believe you. You are such an idiot- Did you not consider that would happen at all?" Yakko was baffled.

"Yakko-" Lena tried to interrupt.

"I-i'm not an idiot!" Wakko tried to defend, but it was getting really hard for him to justify his actions...

"Yes, you are!!! God- you never think anything through- and even if you realize it was utterly moronic, you still commit!" Yakko spat. "Fucking wild animals have more sense than you!!!"

"Yakko, that is enough." Lena snapped.

Silence echoed through the empty tower, but the damage had already been done. Wakko looked to his mother for sympathy, she only met him with a look of dead seriousness.

"Wakko- you put Warnerstock's relationship with Disneyland, as well as Yakko's relationship with Max, at great risk due to your recklessness and jealousy. There will be a severe punishment to speak of in the morning." She said firmly.

"I w-was just trying to protect..." He hardly had the strength to say it.

"Wake the fuck up, Wakko. Does anyone here look better off- or "protected"- because of your actions? Haven't you done enough?" Yakko bit. Lena gave him a look, but Wakko saw he was right.

Good god- he really was a screw-up, wasn't he?

"I just..." Wakko practically whispered, as he looked to Dot, who only shook her head and looked away. With that last little betrayal, Wakko had had enough. Before he knew it, he bolted out of the tower and out and around the hallways of the castle, before he made it out into the garden and ran deep, deep, deep within to where the hedges were trimmed high and he knew no one would hopefully ever find him.

God- he was such an idiot. He should've listened- he should've fucking listened. Now Yakko hated him, his mom hated him, his dad probably hated him, and even Dot hated him. He put the kingdom in jeopardy- god- why was he such an idiot??

Grandma was right about him. He never knew his place- always acting out on idiotic decisions, impulsive like a filthy animal (though even rabid animals had more sense than him).

He should just stay in this garden forever and die, then everyone around him would stop being hurt from his stupid decisions.

Wakko curled into a ball, hugging his knees as he laid in the grass as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until he eventually ran out of energy, and before he knew it, he was totally and utterly asleep.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Fifty) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Unprotected sex. Wrap it before you tap it, ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary sibs. Dom/sub relationship. Sub switching (Dom!reader, sub!Hotch). Bondage (ropes and handcuffs). Sex toys (vibrating cockring). Gag (using a suit tie). Edging. Name calling. Impregnation kink. Stop light safe word system. Cock warming for aftercare (to prevent sub dropping). Oh, boy. Sin. Just pure sin. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, Hotch refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 6855

Timeline: Right after part forty-nine.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

I recognized that look in his eyes. It was the same one I had every time I was in his position. Lust mixed with fear of the unknown of what was to come. There was an insatiable desire to reach out, to touch me, to kiss me, to hold me, to fuck me; all of which he couldn’t have. This started as his game, one which he thought he could win at every time. To his surprise, though, I managed to win— likely just this once, but still— and I was going to take advantage of this opportunity, there was no doubt. Hence, the look in his eyes.

Hotch’s whole body tensed as he heard the click of the black box opening. He was watching me intently, trying to figure out my next moves before I could even make them, but he didn’t have enough experience in the position he was in to build a profile about my behaviors just yet. I didn’t keep him waiting too long like he enjoyed doing with me. I grabbed the longer lengths of rope that we had rolled up in the bottom of the box, and I showed him as soon as I had a grip on them. He tensed again, his erect cock twitching slightly in his pants at the sight of me unraveling the lengths of rope.

I smirked as I laid the untangled ropes over his thighs, just to see how he would react. He jumped slightly. He was on edge… I couldn’t blame him when I always acted the same way. It looked like he almost wanted to plead for mercy, just like he always made me do. It was nice to see him like that, having already relinquished control, excited to know more about my plans.

As I crawled onto the bed, my legs straddling his thighs, Hotch instinctively made a move to reach out for me, but he immediately stopped himself when he remembered the rules. No touching. I grinned slightly before biting my bottom lip seductively. He looked so good for me, his chest bare, his blue dress pants still on, his forehead already beginning to sweat as he anticipated my torture and love. I wondered if that was how I always looked while trying my hardest to obey the rules despite how hard he tried to make me break them. I wanted him to reach out, I wanted him to dare to touch me, to kiss me, to buck his hips up to beg me for more. I wanted him to break the rules in order to give me an excuse to torture him more. He was already in trouble for using me in the car the other morning at the park, and then forgetting that it was Valentine’s Day today. He told me that he would make it up to me, and he was certainly trying his best.

When we got home from the bar, Hotch tried pushing me against the wall and claiming dominance, but I had to remind him that I was the one who won our race the other day, meaning that I still had to claim my prize. He whined— Aaron Hotchner, of all people, whining in my ear— and he grinded his hips against mine for friction, but I pushed him away.

“I won’t let you cum at all if you keep it up,” I said sternly.

I bet Hotch was regretting the competition altogether, but most importantly, how his strict dominance had been teaching me a thing or two about how to put him in his place. We didn’t switch often because I liked being out of control, and he liked watching me writhe; but there were times like this where I found it arousing to see him realize that he had no choice but to be obedient. It was like that night we were going to JJ’s Superbowl party a couple years ago. That night had never left my mind, and I always wondered if we would have another scene like it. I mean, there were times where Hotch liked having me on top… Actually, if we weren’t doing a scene, he preferred it. But there was something different about making him submissive to me. The thought alone was so intoxicating I felt like I could have jumped in then and there, but would have been the point, then?

When we had finally moved to the bedroom, I tore off Hotch’s suit jacket, pulled off his tie as quickly as I could, then shoved him onto the bed. He let me do with him as I pleased, keeping in mind that I had earned this, even though I technically cheated. He had a few days to argue this, but he never did, and he still wasn’t. He wanted this, and that made me want him more. Yet, I paced myself, taking my time unbuttoning his shirt. I had an obsession with his chest and how he would constrict with the slightest of touches. He had always been like that, even long before Foyet attacked him, but now it was twofold because of that. While I was first scared of touching him after that, he insisted that he was fine and he liked how handsy I got with his chest, and he never wanted that to stop. It took some time to get used to it, but now it was easy to ignore the scars and just focus on how he shivered under my touch.

“Please,” he whispered quietly, letting the plea just barely fall off his lips like he hadn’t meant to do it because he was too focused on staying still.

“Please… what, baby?” I asked with the same quiet, considerate tone. I wanted to keep him at ease, to make sure that this was still fine and that he wasn’t going to hate it. He liked what happened the night of the Superbowl, and I liked the trouble that it got me into, but Hotch, by nature, wasn’t a submissive. If there was any chance that he was going to be uncomfortable, then it wasn’t worth it. I loved him too much to not care about what he wanted. “Tell me.”

“More.” He bucked his hips.

I put more of my weight down on his thighs to keep him still. “Hands,” I demanded quietly.

Hotch immediately held his wrists out of me, pressing them together because he already knew what was coming. I kissed his knuckles gently as I collected his wrists in my grip. His fingers stretched, trying to hold my face tenderly. Despite how fast we were moving and how aroused both of us were, the urge to leap into action and just fuck each other crazy hadn’t settled yet. Maybe it was the fact that it was Valentine’s Day, or maybe it was the fact that we were taking it slow to make sure that this was something we both really wanted, but we left some time to just be sensual and catch our breaths. Besides, it didn’t hurt that the slower I would take things, the more desperate he would get for me, which, in my book, was a win.

“Just breathe,” I told him as I leaned down and kissed his lips. He let out a sigh through his nose before leaning up slightly to kiss me harder. While he was distracted with still trying to prove his dominance the only way he could, through our shared kiss, I started wrapping the rope around his wrists. He gasped at the bite of the rope as I pulled it tight. “Just breathe.”

As I tied off the rope to create an inescapable restraint, I leaned up from his lips to watch him struggle and pull. He tried with all his might to separate his wrists, his biceps bulging and his chest tightening as he did so. Just as I wanted. When he realized that he wasn’t going anywhere and that I was getting a little too much out of watching him spar with his restraints. Displeased with the way he profiled my excitement, I grabbed the ends of the rope, the extra lengths I had left for the rest of my plan and tugged. He whimpered at the feeling but fell silent as I leaned over him to tie him to the headboard.

While I had strategically leaned over him in a way that my cleavage would be right in his face, I hadn’t expected him to crane his neck up and attack my collarbone with a nibbling kiss. My strength weakened as he started leaving a mark and bucked his hips up again.

“Stop it,” I growled in his ear.

“I need you,” he whined. I swear, I could never get over that. “Please.”

“Not yet.” I leaned back up and slid down his thighs a bit more so that he couldn’t reach me in any way and if he tried to buck his hips again, it wouldn’t do anything to give either of us the relief we wanted. “Pull.” I wanted to admire my work. I wanted to take a moment to just be in his shoes for once and see what was so appealing about watching me struggle.

He did as he was told, yanking at the rope to test his mobility against the headboard. Nothing. He had maybe two to three inches of wiggle room away from it, but that was it. Hotch slumped. “I hate you.”

“Now you get it.” I smirked.

I reached down and started fiddling with his belt buckle, my hands so close to where he needed me most, but not yet daring to venture there. Hotch immediately stopped moving. Every inch of him was still, the only thing to notice was his wide eyes and the way he was biting his lip. When I finally got the buckle undone, he released his lip, letting out a breath of relief, even though I hadn’t done anything to free him yet. As I pulled off the belt, though, carefully sliding the leather out of each of the loops, Hotch rose his hips to help me, but then obediently lowered them when I was done.

Suddenly, Hotch let out a loud moan as my wrist accidentally passed over his hardened length. “I’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week,” he hissed as he calmed himself down.

I tsked my tongue. “Nuh uh, that wasn’t the deal of the competition. You can’t punish me for anything I do tonight.”

“Fuck the rules—”

A breathless moan escaped him as I caught him off guard by palming him through his pants on purpose this time to get him to stop talking. “You always have such a mouth on you…” My fingers danced over his tip as his pants continued to strain around him. “I always get punished for talking back, but you…” I did it again and he moaned once more. “You’re worse because you think I’d never do anything to you.” I stopped touching him all together and rolled off the bed. “Maybe, just maybe, this’ll do the trick.” I opened up the black box again and pulled out a toy for Hotch. I turned to face him, rolling it in my hands, taking note of how he gulped and widened his eyes. “You trust me?” I inquired. He nodded instantly. “Color?”

“Green, baby.”

He seemed more eager than I had ever seen him before. I didn’t realize that he would be into this. I thought that he might have found it to be a bit much; but then again, we had reviewed everything in that box together, talking about what they did and what Hotch would be interested in using. While we mainly focused on the toys that we could use on me— since that was our dynamic— we had still discussed this. But I never thought in a million years that he would actually want to use this.

As I sat back down on his thighs, Hotch shifted to get more comfortable, and I let him. “Hotch,” I put a hand on his chest to signify a pause and to clarify sincerity, “you tell me if we need to stop. I’m serious.”

His eyes searched mine for a moment before he said, “Kiss me.” I obliged, knowing that we both needed it. “I love you.”

I winked at him as I moved down to kiss his cheek, jawline, neck, collarbone, pecks, stomach, and… He sucked in a breath as I worked my way down to where he needed me most. When he thought that I would finally touch him, I grinned to myself and started kissing back up his body. My hands held his sides, my thumbs running over his scars out of habit.

I loved every bit of Hotch, no matter what he looked like. While I could have argued all day that I definitely loved him more with the beard, he always knew that I was joking. But his scars were just as much a part of him as his eyes and nose were. They had bad memories attached to them, of course, but they reminded me every day how lucky I was to have him still and how I would do anything for him. There were hundreds of different instances where I nearly lost him, but the scars were a reminder that even if the worst could happen, I would still have him. He was there, in my arms, between my legs, and he was all mine. I loved him. Every fucking inch of him.

He liked leaving marks on my neck, I could show the same courtesy. So, as I nibbled lightly and sucked a patch of skin on his neck as payback for earlier when he did it without permission, my hands squeezed his sides again to feel him tense up underneath me.

When I was content with the obvious hickey my lips started making their way down again. I could feel him still straining in his pants, begging for release, begging for attention. I wasn’t going to give him anything, though. Not yet. Hotch liked teasing me, to dance around what I needed most in order to put me on edge, to make me more desperate for him. The more I wanted him, the better our sex was. He knew that, I knew that, and that was exactly why he did it every damn time. After four years of knowing Hotch, and learning about his tricks as a dominant, I knew a thing or two about torturing him and making him need me more.

“You’re so hard, baby,” I cooed, kissing the buttons on his pants. “What are you thinking about?”

“You know what I’m thinking about,” he hissed.

“Tell me.”

Hotch lifted his head to squint at me, but I didn’t double back on my order. My fingers played with the waistband of his pants, putting the idea into his mind that I would pull them off if he just answered.

“I’m thinking about finally being inside of you.”

I undid the first button. “And?”

He caught onto my game and eagerly made his next play. “Having you ride me.” The next button popped open. “Cumming inside you…” I slowly started pulling his zipper down. “Feeling you clench around me as you cum around my cock.” I grabbed the waistband again. “I can practically already hear you screaming my name.” He threw his head back as he worked with me to help me pull his pants off. “And…” he fell silent as his pants fell to the floor, leaving him in his underwear.

“Don’t stop.”

He gulped. “I can’t—” He shivered as I ran my hands up and down his thighs slowly. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Try.” I grabbed the waistband of his underwear now, hesitating to pull them down until I got at least one more thing from him.

“I— Please…”

“One more.”

“I can’t wait to feel the toy on me—”

His mouth fell agape as I pulled his underwear down, his erection finally springing free. When he was finally nude, finally presented bare for me, I took a moment to admire him. I had never seen him look so panicked yet so in love. He seemed like he was scared of what was to come, but he was excited for the pleasure that would come out of it. Just as I always was. I liked that the tables were turned around for once. He spent years torturing me like this, and I was finally getting the chance to get back at him. This was practically a once in a lifetime kind of experience, considering how careful he’d be in the future to make sure I’d never get this opportunity again.

I was going to ruin him.

I took my index finger and carefully reached out to run the pad of my nail up and down his length slowly. I was barely hovering my touch over him, and he was already bucking around to feel me. I eyed him sternly, pulling my hand away before I could even touch him for a single moment, and he whined, letting his body fall limp again. Slowly, I shuffled down his thighs, moving them apart slightly so that I could rest between them while sitting on my knees. Hotch lifted his head off the pillows so that he could watch me as I bent down, my face level with his cock, begging for my attention, and my ass up in the air. I bet he was thinking about fucking me like that because his erection twitched with anticipation, and I smiled before sticking my tongue out.

Starting at the base of his cock, I licked a gentle stripe up his shaft. He moaned and pulled at the ropes. I pulled away from him to give him a look that warned him to be careful. When he was settled again, I brought my index finger to hip tip and slowly caressed it, spreading his precum around. He wiggled anxiously, twitching against my touch. He was so fucking sensitive. I loved it. This whole time, he wanted me to touch him, and while it was probably a relief to feel something, it was probably torture that I was only touching the places where it was nearly painful if teased for too long.

“Please— Y/N—” He threw his head back. “Fuck— Baby girl— Ah—” I flattened my tongue on his tip, licking up the mess I had made of him. “Y/N—”

“Stop making noise,” I demanded. A smirk suddenly flashed on my face as a thought occurred to me. “Or I’ll gag you.” Using his own threats against him was so satisfying, but the look on his face was priceless.

I tasted him again, this time circling his tip with my tongue, my fingers dancing lightly at the base. Through my lashes, I could see him holding back moans and pleas by choosing to pant and bite his lip instead. I decided to push further, see what reactions I could get out of him. How much longer until he would break? I tested it by leaning forward slightly, allowing myself the angle to wrap my lips around his girth.

“Y/N!” He tugged as hard as he could, his legs pulling up and in towards his body slightly.

I had hardly even put my mouth on him, and I already broke him. He was such a mess. Even more so when I took my mouth off of him and squeezed his thighs. “I warned you.” I stretched to the side of the bed, not quite getting off of Hotch, but not applying the same weight on his legs as before. I reached down to the floor and grabbed his red tie that I had torn off of him earlier. When I settled back on his thighs, I rolled and crumpled the tie in my hands, forming it into a loose ball that would unravel if I stopped applying pressure around it. “Open.”

“You’re not seri—”

Before he could utter anything else, I shoved the tie in his open mouth. He yelled behind it, but he was muffled now, unable to enunciate anything.

“You’re right about gagging; it is nice to finally be left to work in silence.” I smirked and sat up, reaching to the side for the toy I had grabbed from the black box earlier.

He pulled at his restraints, knowing what was about to come. While he probably didn’t want to stop me entirely, he probably wasn’t too keen on the idea of me torturing him with it until I was content with his squirming and pleading.

“Hold still.” I grabbed his face and made him look at me. “Knock for Colors.” He knocked three times before I could even go through them with him again. “I love you,” I whispered as I dragged my nails down his chest slowly. His abs tightened at the feeling, earning a wider smirk from me. “Remember to breathe.”

I turned the toy around in my hands, finding the right way to go about putting it on. His breath shallowed as he focused on breathing, just as I instructed. I gripped the outside of the toy and slowly started lowering it over his cock. His hips lightly bucked in response at first, but then he fell apart into a puddle of loose moans behind his gag as I continued to slide it down every inch of him even slower.

“Fuck, baby,” I couldn’t help but moan at the sight.

The cock ring was so tight on him… I could feel him flexing inside of it, trying to adjust to the cold plastic feeling that was nowhere near as satisfying as being inside of me, but it was still a relief to feel more than just my light touches that were slowly killing him. Then, as it settled towards his balls, Hotch let out a relieved groan, his eyes screwing shut, his head falling back. My eyes focused on his face, trying to get a read on if he was still alright, but then I saw that there was a smile hidden behind his gag. And I thought that I was the masochist.

“I can’t believe you,” I chuckled. Hotch opened his eyes slowly to look at me. “You’re worse than me.” I ran my finger up his length again, yearning a light scream from him. “Color.” He knocked three times after hesitating a moment to let out another moan as I fisted my hand around his length. “Do you remember what this does?” I asked, tapping the cock ring lightly with my other hand. He nodded. “You’ll knock if you want to stop?” He nodded again. “Good.”

My hand moved up and down his dick, stopping just above where the cock ring began. I couldn’t believe how hard he was, and I couldn’t believe that he actually loved this as much as he was. I expected that he would enjoy it, but he’d get frustrated and ask to have it taken off… But he was loving every second of it, despite how tight it was around him. The best part hadn’t even come yet, and he was already puddy in my hands. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what his reaction was going to be when the next step approached.

“Baby—” he moaned through the gag, clear enough for me to understand.

“You want it?”

He nodded. “Please…”

My fingers that had been tapping at the cock ring stilled for a moment as I searched around for the switch on the top. There was a pack at the top of the ring that held a mini vibrator bullet. When turned on, it shook the ring around him, but the best part was that when I would ride him, it would be pressed right against my clit.

Hotch suddenly tugged at the restraints as I found the switch, turning on the vibrator. My hand that was wrapped around him started pumping again slowly to ease his tension, but it actually only seemed to make it worse. His whole body was tensing up. He was focused on pulling against the restraints, trying to see if he could somehow free himself. When I wiped my thumb over his sensitive tip, he immediately went limp again— which was exactly what I wanted.

“Oh…” I pouted on his behalf. “Are you a little sensitive?” He nodded excessively. “If I just…” I leaned down and pressed my tongue to his tip again. For just a moment, I felt how his length was shaking due to the vibrator, but also because he was already so close. I sat up. “Poor thing.” I tore my hands off him and he tugged again. “It took you three hours to realize that you forgot about Valentine’s Day. I’m almost tempted to edge you for three hours just because of that.” His eyes shot wide as he looked up at me again. I chuckled quietly. “What? You don’t want that?” He shook his head. “But I thought I get to do whatever I want tonight.” He shook his head. “You’re already so close,” I chuckled as I took note of how hard he was shaking. “Aren’t you?” He didn’t answer, which meant that he was. I tsked my tongue and turned off the vibrator. Hotch cried out behind his tie. “Color.” He knocked three times. “So good for me,” I bit my lip. When I knew that he had calmed down a bit since his edge, I carefully reached down and turned the vibrator back on. “Does that feel good, baby?” I asked after noticing how he was just a puddle of broken moans.

“Yes, baby girl,” I heard through the gag.

I smirked and put my hand around his length again. He cried out my name as I pumped as fast and hard as I could, stopping just short of the ring every time. Every few seconds or so, I’d take a moment to run my thumb over his tip, feeling how he just kept leaking for me. When I felt him getting close again, I turned off the vibrator and stilled my hand, but I didn’t pull away. Hotch bucked his hips, fucking my hand, thinking that it would tip him over the edge, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. We both knew that he wasn’t getting off that easy. So, he stopped. He hoped that his obedience would convince me to keep going, to make a mistake like letting him cum. But I wasn’t naïve. He was playing the same games I always played with him. Look where those always got me.

This time, once he was calm again, I didn’t turn on the vibrator. My hands continued their movements up and down his length, but this time there was no added stimulation from the toy, and I could see that it was killing him. He really did like it. I mean, over the past few minutes, he had proven to me that he appeared to like it, but I could tell by the way he was begging for me to turn it back on that he genuinely enjoyed the torturous pleasure the toy gave him. The way it squeezed around him, the way it jostled when he’d wiggle, the way it shook his length whenever I turned it on… he loved all of it.

And a thought hit me.

“My needy, little whore…” I whispered under my breath before turning the toy back on.

To my surprise, Hotch smiled and moaned at the slight degradation. It was nothing compared to some of the things he said to me— or could say to me but elected not to; but it came out of the blue, and he seemed to enjoy it. Maybe switching wasn’t as hard for him as I thought. Somehow, it seemed to come naturally to him, which was so odd considering how dominating he was. He loved controlling me, but there was some part of him that was revealing itself that night that was eager to just be used and controlled for once.

I turned the toy off mid thought when I felt him twitch in my hands.

“Fuck—” he screamed. “Baby—”

“I’m sorry, my love,” I cooed, leaning down to kiss his chest gingerly.

He panted against my lips and my chest that was pressed against his stomach. He had been so close that time, and I practically caught him before he could cum, or I could ruin him. Hotch was used to edging. We had done it a thousand times before, but I had never dared to ruin him before. His refractory period wasn’t short at all, and he always got extremely sensitive after climaxing. While that was certainly the ideal type of partner to ruin, Hotch probably would have hated it. Even if he wanted to try, I was sure that he’d end up disliking it, and then he’d feel uneasy by not getting the pleasure of actually tipping over the edge. Besides, his favorite thing to do was to cum inside me and stay there until he was sure that every drop was out… I couldn’t take that away from him when I was already torturing him in every other way. I wasn’t that cruel.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

He knocked three times, but I just wanted to make sure, so I reached up and gently pulled the gag from his mouth. I made sure to hold his jaw open as I did so, barring him from snapping his mouth shut instinctively, which could’ve hurt him. As the tie left his mouth entirely, I helped him carefully close his mouth so that he could swallow his spit and catch his breath. He stopped panting and stared up at me lustfully.

“I love you,” he whispered. I turned the vibrator back on. “Maybe not—” he moaned. I squinted at him and turned it back off. “Wait— No. I’m sorry, baby, please. I’m sorry.” I turned it back on. “Thank you,” he sighed as he buried the back of his head into the pillow under him.

“And to think that I was actually about to ride you,” I teased. I wasn’t actually quite there yet, but he didn’t know that. His back talk, however, wasn’t helping his case. He told me that he couldn’t wait to be inside me, and I could use that to my advantage. Like now. “I was finally going to slide down on you like this…” I slowly lowered my fists over every inch of him, earning a moan from both of us. “And you were going to cum in me.”

“Please, baby,” he whined desperately. “I’ll do anything.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But all you’re going to do is lay there and beg while I keep edging you.”

“I won’t last…”

“And I won’t care.”

“Y/N—” He paused when I cupped a hand over his neck. “Please—” I squeezed lightly. I felt him gulp against my hand. “I’m close again,” he warned, his voice hoarse.

“Beg.”

“No,” he refused, shaking his head vigorously. He was trying so hard to not give in still, despite how desperate he was. I knew the feeling.

“Beg.”

He whimpered and squirmed as he got really close. I was watching him, though, making sure he wouldn’t tip over the edge before I wanted him to. “Fuck, baby. Please. Please, let me cum. I’ll be good for you. Please. Anything. Please.” He let out another moan as his cock twitched. “Please!” He pulled at his restraints, his legs also flexing. I turned off the vibrator before he could cum. “No! Please! Y/N, please, anything, please!”

“Shh…” I cooed, running my nails down his chest lightly to distract him. “You did good, baby. Do you want me?”

He nodded. “Please, baby. Please…” He sounded so deliciously defeated. I loved it. “Ride me.”

I desperately reached for the hem of my shirt, ridding myself of it before anything else. When Hotch saw me in my bra, he let out another sigh, and his cock twitched again, earning a smirk from me. I lifted myself off him slightly so that I could start fidgeting with my black dress pants. I hadn’t been able to change since getting back from California, though it would have been better to wear something nice to the bar earlier, and for this special occasion with Hotch; but it was what it was. I struggled to shuffle my weight around so that I could get out of my pants and underwear while still straddling Hotch. He was still, watching me intently. I could tell that he was trying to be good so that I wouldn’t change my mind about finally fucking him.

“B—Bra—” he stuttered through a sigh once I had my panties off and I sat back down on him. He had been so good for me, taking his edges so well, begging just like I wanted him to; I could do that one thing for him. Besides, he wouldn’t get to touch. I liked that. “You’re so beautiful,” he complimented as I unclasped my bra and it fell off my shoulders. “Please, let me touch you.”

I shook my head. “No.” I put my left palm on his chest and grabbed his length in my right hand. “Still green?” He nodded. “So fucking good for me…” I sighed as I lowered myself down on him painfully slow. His mouth fell agape as he let a sigh mixed with a moan gently escaped him. “So hard for me, baby. Do you like being my little edge slut?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, throwing his head back again.

“Answer me.”

“Yes. Yes, baby. I do.”

As I sat down on him entirely, I took a moment for both of us to adjust before turning the vibrator on the cock ring on again. “Shit,” I moaned, falling forward against his chest slightly before I caught myself. I could feel him shaking inside of me while the vibrator was also pressed directly against my clit. I suddenly understood why it was so hard for him to relax with those edges I gave him. “Fuck… Fuck…” I kept my palm pressed against his chest for balance, but my other hand went back up to his neck to keep his head against the pillow. When he was pinned and puddy in my hands, I started riding him. “Hotch…” The vibrator moved against my clit as I rocked my hips.

“I won’t last long, Y/N.”

I had to catch up to him. Though it wouldn’t take long, I knew that I had a lot of desperation to make up for. Hotch had been edged countless times, and he seemed ready to explode whenever. Me, on the other hand, I just needed him to hold on a little longer. The vibrator and his cock were already getting me close as I bounced and rocked on him, but he just had to wait. He could do that for me.

He looked at me with pleading, lustful eyes that made me moan again. I leaned down, my hands still pressed to him, and I kissed him hard. He tugged at his restraints again, trying to touch me and hold me, or maybe even grab ahold of my hips to make me fuck him faster, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Y/N…” he moaned into mouth.

“I’m close, baby. Just hold it. You can do it; I know you can.”

His eyes screwed shut. “I’m trying.” I kissed his jawline. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“Hold it.”

He was whimpering and whining, his hips still to prevent adding extra stimulation. I didn’t relent, though. I was so close. His cock hit my walls roughly, reaching a deep spot within me that made my knees weak.

“Cum in me, Aaron. Do it.”

I moaned against his jaw as I started falling apart. My stomach tightened into a thousand knots as the vibrator pushed me towards the edge. When I felt him orgasm inside me, his cock twitching, his cum shooting in me, I came for him. Just as he had asked for previously, my walls tightened around him, squeezing every drop out of him that he had to offer while I continued to fuck us through our orgasms.

“Y/N—” he gasped as the vibrator continued to torture his sensitive length. I rolled my hips again. “Fuck,” he hissed angrily. “Stop. Please.” I obeyed, slowing down my pace until I came to a steady halt. “The toy, baby, please— The toy—” He tugged against the restraints as hard as he could before I reached between us to turn the vibrator off. He sighed with relief and relaxed. “Fuck,” he chuckled.

“Was that okay?”

He smirked up at me. “I finally know how you feel.”

“And all it took was four years.”

“Untie me,” he begged, pulling at the restraints again.

I pouted and grinded myself down harder on him. “But you look so good like this, baby.” He hissed between his teeth, tensing up again at the feeling. I grinned and ran my fingers down his tight chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss him. His cock moved inside me as I rested my chest against his, our lips locking, his tongue fighting mine for dominance. When he started to win, however, I pulled away from him. “Hold still,” I cooed, stretching over him to start untying him from the headboard. When he was the slightest bit free, he let his arms fall down against the pillows. “Shh… come here…” I gently grabbed his tied wrists and brought them forwards towards me. “So good for me.” I kissed his knuckles again to comfort and distract him while I started undoing the rope around his wrists. When he was released and the rope fell on his chest, I kissed where the rope marks on his wrists were. “So, so good.”

Hotch leaned up slightly. “Did you enjoy your reward?”

I smiled shyly at him and nodded. I was falling down from Dom space, returning to how I usually was around him. I wasn’t crashing, which was a relief. It was a slow, steady, peaceful decline as the euphoria surrounding the situation died out. That mindset included taking the toy off him to make sure he could relax entirely. So, I carefully lifted myself off his length, both of us groaning at the feeling. I wasn’t sure why, but the running every morning and the rough fucking was getting to me more than usual. He was always big inside me, but it was different when my body was already weak while trying to build up muscle from the different kinds of workouts. The empty feeling of him leaving me was nearly unbearable, and I could tell that he was somewhat disappointed, too.

I looked at him as I sat on his thighs, my fingers hovering over the toy. “Just keep relaxing, okay?” He nodded. I gently pinched my thumb and index finger around the ring and started pulling it up. He hissed and fisted the sheets on either side of his body. “I know, baby…” I cooed, still moving. I knew that the sooner I got it off, the sooner he could relax, and we could call it a night. “You’re tensing,” I warned, feeling his thigh muscles constrict beneath me. “Almost there. I swear.” He let out a shaky breath and relaxed again so that I could pull it off the last two inches or so. “You did so good,” I complimented. “You still okay?”

He nodded again. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I stretched to put the ring on my bedside table, just to get it out of the way for the time being. Hotch grabbed my hips in his hands. “Baby?” I hummed a listening tone. “I need you.”

“Still?” I chuckled.

He shook his head. “Not like that. I just need to feel you.”

I couldn’t believe that. I mean, I knew that he enjoyed sitting inside me for a while afterwards just because it was too overwhelming to move sometimes; but what he was proposing was different. I didn’t object, though. Not at all. It was an innocent gesture— well, not innocent, but it was more so than what just happened, at least. So, I gave in. We moved together, adjusting slightly to make sure that he was comfortable, and then I grabbed his length, though it wasn’t hard now, and I carefully sat on him again. We both sighed with relief, grateful to feel each other again. And then when I was settled, I finally caught my breath.

“Okay. I’m officially sore,” I sighed as I collapsed over his chest.

His body shook slightly as he laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “Sore from?”

“Training.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

I kissed his peck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

----------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel

[bearstarseraphffxi]

Subtext and Connotations

“Stupid kid…” Piccolo said to himself. He looked at the small human — no not human, not completely anyway — who had fallen asleep and casually collapsed onto him without a care in the world.

A world that had just gotten immeasurably bigger ten months ago.

Piccolo did not know how to react at first. This kid was a first for many things. He stayed still hoping he’d fall off.

But no… The son of his greatest enemy had just leaned forward and was now draped over one of his legs.

Piccolo sighed. He looked up at the moonless night sky. He absentmindedly wondered which pinprick of light was the fault of what he was about to do. What he had been stewing over for four months now, making him seriously analyze his birth and what could have gone wrong with the transfer. He was Demon King Piccolo, damn it…

Piccolo looked over to the west and sneered. He could practically hear Kami snickering in his head.

Piccolo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He put his large hand on the boy’s head. “Sebnek yemtaw himefinnew.”

Gohan moaned and twitched.

Piccolo jerked his hand away, but Gohan simply moved his arm and somehow ended up even more over his leg before he went still again.

Piccolo sighed in relief.

~~***~~

“Hey, Mr. Piccolo?” Gohan asked, adjusting his pants from the morning bush and small ki-blasted hole visit.

“What?” he said annoyed.

Piccolo stood as he always did, his back to him, but Gohan did not mind. That was just Mr. Piccolo.

When his mother was mad at his father, she would turn her back and talk in that tone when he would win the argument, then reword what he had said to make it look like she got exactly what she wanted all along. He did not know what he was “winning”, but Mr. Piccolo was being a lot nicer to him recently when he wasn’t beating him into a pulp.

“What does Seb nek yem taw—”

Piccolo partially spun around. “What?! You were awake?!”

Gohan stuttered, “I… you always randomly attack me. But you were gentle, so I went back to sleep.”

Piccolo regained his composure, crossed his arms, and towered over the boy. Any other child would be terrified, but this one just smiled back at him.

Piccolo sighed in annoyed defeat. There was no scaring this one. “I called you a silly boy last night in my language, that was all.”

“What part of it means silly?”

“Himefinnew. It is a single word that means a silly child.”

“You can call me Himefinnew any time you want, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said grinning, with what few teeth were left.”

Piccolo reached his hand out and grabbed Gohan’s head, then gently spun him around. “Let’s just keep it Finnew for short, got it?”

“Yes, sir! Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said happily.

Piccolo suddenly punted the screaming boy high into the air. “Never turn your back on the enemy!” Piccolo shouted, jumping after him to start the day’s training.

~~***~~

Three months later…

“Hey guys!” Bulma shouted, holding her phone in one hand and waving with the other, “Dad says he’ll be here in about twenty minutes with the two cargo planes to take us to my place!”

“Does it really take this long to traverse your own planet?!” Vegeta snapped. “This planet is puny judging by its gravity!”

Bulma put her hands on her hips. “Oh, stop complaining, homeboy. It hasn’t even been an hour yet.”

“An hour?!”

Everyone glanced at the arguing couple before returning to their own conversations.

Piccolo glared ominously as Gohan was speaking with Dende and three young adults. They were laughing at each other’s bad accents while speaking each other’s languages. “He” knew that the three couldn’t speak properly and that the laughter was not genuine. “He” knew ‘teenagers’ when he saw them, the old word suddenly sounding like he heard it for the first time, even though it was spoken with “his” own mind’s singular voice.

It had only been a few hours and these sensations were getting old fast.

“(Hey there),” a Namekian came up to him awkwardly in their native tongue. “(How are you doing, after… everything)?”

Piccolo sighed. “(I)”, he stressed, “(am fine… Lumache. Really. Go comfort the others who are taking Guru’s death badly.)”

Lumache smiled relieved, but his face quickly changed to confusion. “(Are you sure? You’re speaking with a bit of a lisp.)”

Piccolo smirked. (It’s the accent here on Earth. I doubt ‘Kami’ will be coming down from his ‘high horse’ to meet any of you. But this is how we speak here.)”

Lumache tilted his head concerned. “(Is this ‘Kami’ another aboriginal like the pet?)”

“(Gohan is no pet)”, Piccolo said, barely containing his rage. “(And ‘Kami’ is…)” he paused. “(… the name of my egglayer’s hatchmate.)”

Lumanche raise his finger, “(But… ‘Kami’ is not a Namekian name.)”

“(I know, but his name is Kami. So get used to it.)”

Lumache bent his raised finger. “(And he was also called a… ah…)” he hesitated looking for the right words.

Piccolo smirked. “No, his name was Namekian and I will be using it going forward. That was the deal.”

Lumache sighed relieved with a thankful grin across his face, “(Oh, that goodness. I was worried, dear brother.)”

Piccolo was feeling both a little bad but also waiting in great anticipation to laugh at his reaction when the conversation with the teenagers got loud. He turned his full attention back to Gohan and Dende.

Piccolo uncrossed his arms, then bent his elbow as he balled his fist.

~~***~~

Moments earlier…

The teenager in the middle of the trio was making funny noises to the laughing of his two companions and the giggling of Dende.

Gohan, however, was being encouraging. “You’re getting close. Just find a soft spot near the top of your throat to click the area just behind the tip of your tongue against it.”

The teenager threw his hands up, and spouted what Gohan knew to be curses. “(This is bleep-ing ridiculous!)” he continued.

“(Don’t feel bad,)” Gohan said. “(I still can’t get *guttural sound with a secondary high pitch right afterwards* right. ‘Mr. Piccolo’ said he knows of a few ‘human’ languages with the sounds happening at the same time and that after the fighting we could look into ‘throat singing’ together.)”

The one on the teenager’s right chuckled. “(Yeah, and I’m sure this ‘Piccolo’ has been a big help since you speak with such a bad lisp.)”

“(He doesn’t have a lisp,)” Dende corrected. “(It’s just the accent of the people here. I’m told everyone speaks that way.)”

“(Dende,)” the one to the left shook his head. “(And the elders always say you were the smart one. Here you are believing everything a piccolo says.)”

“Dende,” Gohan whispered in English, “is there a word that’s also said as piccolo and not just a person’s name?”

Dended had a look of shock on his face. “You don’t—”

“(Dende, don’t bother,)” the teenager in the middle said. “(There’s no point learning this stuff.)”

“After everything that just happened, how can you say that?!” Dende said loudly, and in English.

The entire congregation went silent and turned to look at them.

As Dende started to whimper and Gohan wrapped his arms around him, the three knew they all looked bad.

“(Since you can’t say my name right,)” Gohan offered an olive branch, “(My teacher, ‘Mr. Piccolo’, calls me something when I’m being stupid. ‘Nickname’ doesn’t have a better translation than that.)”

Unknown to the youths, everyone’s sight was turned to the sudden fighting stance of the person all the Namekians but Dende knew only as Nail’s new Keeper.

“(Ok, ‘Hohan’, What’s this ‘Nickname’?)”

“(Himefinnew. He shortened it Finnew.)”

You could hear a pin drop.

~~***~~

Vegeta knew something was wrong instantly as his eyes scanned the clearing. This type of shock, disbelief, and the building rage so pungent it was tasteable on his tongue, this only came with something unforgivable. Vegeta enjoyed getting his prey to react like this. The resulting stupidity was entertainment on boring missions. Killing and eating children usually did the trick. Nappa didn’t even bother with the killing part first.

Vegeta smirked.

This wait just got a lot less boring.

~~***~~

“Gohan! Gohan, don’t say something like that!” Dende grabbed his armor and shook him. “Apologize!”

“What? Is… Is it actually a curse word?” Gohan said horrified as the possibility dawned on him. “Mr. Piccolo said it meant ‘silly child’.”

“Silly child?!” Dende looked over at Piccolo. “Has the meaning changed here?! Don’t you know what it means?!”

Suddenly, an adult came over and grabbed Gohan’s arm. He tried to bite his nails into his flesh, but they bent backwards instead.

Gohan barely had time to plant his feet when the man went suddenly flying through several trees.

Piccolo retracted his arm from the long punch and stormed over. “(Next person who touches that child joins Schnecke pulling splinters out of his tonsils!)”

“(How…)” “(Can we even do that?)” “(Did he just… extend his arm?)” were among the murmurs Gohan could make out. He also spotted several Namekians put their hands over their mouths and looked away, or even bending over at the waist.

Dende tugged on Piccolo’s pants leg. “How did you do that?” he whispered in English.

“(Don’t you dare teach something that barbaric and obscene to the hatchlings! You shame your role as a holy keeper to Na, eh?)” the Namekian paused. “(What even is your name, brother?!)”

“(He’s no brother! Brothers do not harm brothers! He attacked Schnecke!)”

“Why do they keep calling Mr. Piccolo ‘brother’?” Gohan whispered to Dende. “He’s from Earth? So was his father and Kami? They don’t have siblings.”

“Sib-lin?” Dende said confused. “I don’t know that word.”

Piccolo stood proudly, “(My name is Piccolo! Piccolo ‘Daimao’ the Second!” He slowly turned his head glaring into as many eyes as possible, “Heir to my dead egg layer, King Piccolo ‘Daimao’!)”

A pin drop could be heard again as Gohan looked around. All the Namekians had looks of horror on their faces. He kicked himself for being surprised.

“Gohan, what does ‘Daimao’ mean?” Dende whispered in English.

Gohan jerked his head. “Wha? You don’t? Then wha?” he stuttered. He began glancing around anxiously.

“Gohan what’s wr—”

Suddenly a Namekian fell to his knees screaming in anguish. “(Who names a child that?!)”

Piccolo stomped over screaming something so fast all Gohan could make out was Piccolo repeating his name over and over again, but judging by the adults scrambling to cover the children’s ears, he wasn’t old enough to learn a good portion of it.

Piccolo grabbed the Namekian by his collar and pulled him up. “(And if any of you touch Hime again…)” Piccolo extended his nails into long daggers, “(I’ll slice you apart so bad you can’t regenerate.)” He then shoved the man back on the ground and retracted his claws. “Hime!” he said walking swiftly over to Gohan. Piccolo put his hand on Gohan's head, gently turning and shoving him. “We’re leaving. Come on, boy,” he said in English.

Gohan stumbled briefly but quickly walked in step with him into the trees.

~~***~~

Vegeta was disappointed that the show seemed to be over after those two had vanished into the woods, but their energy seemed to still be close by. Suddenly Dende broke the awkward silence by running after them. The others began to shout before the old one the dead Namekian had placed hands on shouted something that made the others stop before he walked after Dende.

Vegeta turned to stalk them when he looked at the Earth woman who had turned at the exact same moment.

They looked at each other surprised before the woman gave an oddly devious smile, took two steps ahead then turned and pointed at him before repeatedly bending that finger. Vegeta took the strange gesture as an invitation to follow and the two disappeared unnoticed.

~~***~~

“Mr. Piccolo, what was that about? What happened there? Why was everyone mad at me? What did—”

“Not now, Gohan. They can still hear us.”

Gohan looked behind them.

“My ears are not for show,” Piccolo answered his thoughts.

Suddenly Piccolo looked behind them as well.

Soon Gohan heard it too.

“Wait! … Gohan, wait!” was heard softly in the distance.

Then came the rapid footsteps.

Dende burst through the trees stopping in front of them. He placed his hands on his knees panting. “Wait… Wait for me…”

Piccolo sighed. “Fine… you can come too,” he said annoyed. He began walking briskly again. “Hurry.”

“Yes,” Gohan quickly got in step.

Dende jogged out of breath behind them.

~~***~~

Piccolo eventually stopped and leaned against a tree. “Ok, this is far enough,” he sighed. He sat on the ground.

“Mr. Piccolo, what happened? Why was everyone mad at me?”

Piccolo sighed. “Gohan… from what I taught you about my language, break down Himefinnew into its parts.”

“Um…” he thought, “Finnew is the third person singular to finir, which means to find something funny, so… Hime is the part that means boy. I find the boy funny, or Silly boy like you first said.”

“Dende, quiet,” Piccolo said cutting him off. He looked back at Gohan. “Now Gohan, tell me the difference between the words red and crimson.”

Gohan paused. “They are both two words that mean the same color?”

“Yes, but there is a difference. Do you know why the word red is almost always used while crimson is not?”

Gohan shook his head.

“Crimson specifically means the color of human blood. To call something crimson is to compare it to blood. Now answer that question.”

“Blood is scary?”

Piccolo smiled, “Exactly.”

“So Hime is a scary version of boy?”

“What?! No!”

“Dende quiet,” Piccolo snapped.

Dende looked down.

Piccolo sighed.

“Gohan, what I’m trying to say is that many words have a hidden meaning. Like crimson is scary. Hime is… I… it…” Piccolo’s face and ears tinged purple. He covered his face with one of his hands. “Gah… what I’m trying to say is… Gohan…

“So you named the child but never told him? Were you ever going to tell him?”

“Elder Moori!” Dende said as the old Namekian walked out of the trees.

Piccolo shot up as his color deepened. “This is a private conversation!”

Moori gave a knowing smile to the adult blushing like a child being caught being naughty. He looked at Gohan. “So tell me Himefinnew, did Piccolo place his hands on your head and say ‘Sebnek yemtaw’ when he named you, or…”

Gohan started nodding before he finished.

“I see…” He looked at Piccolo, “I don’t know how significant it is with our kin on Earth, but for Namekians the naming ceremony is an important step in a child’s life. We do not name at hatching but let the child grow until it becomes apparent what his name is, like Dende here,” he looked at him, “Dende literally means ‘He writes in stone’. We named him that because he can memorize and repeat anything he hears perfectly.”

“And Nail means humility,” Dende said looking up at Piccolo.

Moori snickered, “Nail was not happy when he was named that by Guru. You don’t know this Dende, but Nail was actually very arrogant as a youth. He was sent to live Guru not because he was virtuous, but because he was a delinquent.”

Dende’s jaw dropped.

Moori looked at Piccolo, “Nail never lost that fire despite him learning to outwardly behave. I was greatly worried for you, but after everything that just happened…” he walked over and put his hand on piccolo’s shoulder. “I know you two will make a fine man once everything settles down in a few hours. Only a man with the pride in his name like that could embrace him fully and not be ashamed of his lesser instincts,” then he smiled knowingly, “Isn’t that right ‘Daimao’?”

“You know what that means, elder?” Dende asked.

Moori took his hand off Piccolo’s shoulder and looked down at him, “Yes I do. It’s a word that means the unpleasant part of all of us, like arrogance,” he glanced at Piccolo, “Or anger.” He looked back down, “While ‘Kami’ is the nice things about us, like friendship and loyalty.”

“But they are both words like crimson, right?” Dende asked.

He nodded. “Yes, they both have a special connotation that makes them very rare. Even the adults don’t know those words.” Moori looked down at his hands. “Even I… did not know those words until a little while ago.”

Dende nodded understanding.

Moori extended his hand. “Come with me, Dende. Let the ‘titim’ and ‘hime’ talk alone.” Then he turned in a random direction. “That goes for you two as well!”

“What?! How did you know we were here?!”

“You stupid bitch! Don’t you know how to keep your stupid mouth shut!”

“I am not a stupid bitch, you—”

Piccolo grumbled putting his hand over his face again.

Moori smiled, “I’m sure you’ll be able to relearn your awareness. Nail was always too easy to sneak up on.” He took a step then stopped, “It may not be my place to say, Daimao, but maybe losing some of your suspiciousness would be a good thing. It can be lonely as a piccolo no matter where your home is.”

He took Dende’s hand and left.

Piccolo sighed as the volume of the argument coming from the trees rose up several notches.

“So… we’ll be talking later, right?” Gohan asked, looking in the direction of the screaming.

Piccolo chuckled, “Yeah… … Actually, Gohan,” he knelt and whispered in his ear.

~~***~~

10 minutes later at the clearing, a large box-shaped plane touched down.

Dr. Brief hopped out.

“Daddy!” Bulma ran over.

“There’s my baby girl!” They hugged. “Phew. Oh boy, I’ll call your mother and make sure you have a nice bubble bath waiting with lavender candles.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“Hey! I thought you said two transports! That’s only one!” Vegeta shouted pointing.

Dr. Brief pulled out what looked like a grenade from his pocket and threw it a good distance away. Suddenly an identical craft appeared in a puff of smoke.

Vegeta gritted his teeth to keep his jaw from dropping.

Bulma threw open the passenger side door, “Come on, Homeboy! Come ride in the cockpit with me!”

Vegeta stiffened and clinched his fists. “As if I’d spend another second listening to your prattle!”

Then sit in the back with the friends of the people you killed for three hours, you jerk!”

“I’ll ride with the old man!” he looked at Dr. Brief to see him already talking with Dende.

“Sorry, sonny! The kid’s beat you to it!”

Vegeta bristled. “Fine!” he stormed over and shoved her out of the way. He climbed in and slammed the door.

“Jerk,” she said, wiping the grass off her. Bulma turned to the group as her father dropped the cargo ramp on his plane. “Ok everyone! Load up so we can finally get out of the bugs!”

Piccolo helped everyone find a seat, the elders and children bucketed on the benches while the teenagers and adults sat on the floor. Gohan did the same for the other plane.

Gohan came around to Bulma’s window.

She rolled it down.

“Everyone’s in over here. I'm going to ride with Mr. Piccolo in the other plane.”

“Ok, Gohan.” Bulma rolled up the window.

On the other side, Piccolo was talking to Dr. Brief.

“Everyone is ready. I’ll be with Gohan in the other plane.”

“Okey Dokey. See you when we land,” Dr. Brief smiled.

The Briefs watched Gohan and Piccolo walk over and disappear behind the other plane in their side mirrors. After a brief rock that felt like someone climbing in, the two rear doors closed.

As the two planes flew away, Piccolo and Gohan floated in the air watching them, having flown up after rocking the plane to avoid being seen on the ground after takeoff.

Gohan had his hands over his mouth stifling a giggle.

Piccolo grinned. “Deceit is fun, isn’t it Gohan?”

“Yes, don’t tell Mom I said so.”

“Secret’s safe with me.”

The two dropped their arms and sighed at the same time. Then they looked at each other.

Piccolo dropped to the ground first, Gohan landing moments later.

“Ok… We’re were we…” Piccolo said slowly.

“Actually, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan said looking up.

Piccolo looked down.

“Could you tell me what you were saying when you were screaming your name? Besides the bad words, I mean. You spoke too fast. I… got the part where you threatened to chop him up, though.”

Piccolo sat down, “This… is going to be… just about as hard to explain as Hime is actually…”

Gohan looked down, “Oh…”

“Sit down, Gohan.”

Gohan sat down mimicking Piccolo’s legs position.

He halfheartedly smiled, then sighed. “Gohan… ‘Piccolo’ has a very specific meaning, and in fact wasn’t even a name until Kami called out, ‘I banish all that is abhorrent! Piccolo!” when they cleaved. Did you know how they were born?”

“A person ripped in two and became all good and all bad. But you’re not all bad, Mr. Piccolo.”

“Gohan, the ability to care for a child is a biological function. It has nothing to do with good or bad. My father felt every one of my brother’s die by your father’s hands just as much as Guru felt Frieza rip their lives away one by one.”

Gohan gasped softly.

“You didn’t know about my brother’s, did you?”

Gohan shook his head.

“Gohan. You know how babies are made, right?”

“A mommy and daddy each take half a small piece of themselves that can’t live alone, stick them together to make a new person then the mommy either grows them in their tummy or lays an egg and they grow in there until they hatch, right?”

“That is how things work on Earth,” he nodded. “But that does not work for Namekian’s like me.” He adjusted his position. “We don’t have both mommies and daddies. There is only one kind. We take a whole piece of ourselves, already alive, and place in an egg to grow again. That is why we feel the deaths of our children, because literally a piece of us has died.”

“What does this have to do with your name?”

“Because ‘piccolo’ means anything that is not part of us. Born from us. Is. Us. But like red and crimson, Piccolo is saved for special things, like an alien planet and the people who lived there. You are a piccolo, even if people won’t say it to your face.”

Gohan looked down, “And anything piccolo is abhorrent, right?”

Piccolo put his hand on Gohan’s head. “Not everything.”

“What…” Gohan started sniffling, “What did you say?”

“I was born on an alien world. I was raised as an alien. I am an alien. There are many other words I could have used to convey that, but using my name was just me beating it into their thick skulls without using my actual fists.”

“Being able to defeat your opponent without ever needing to touch them is just as big a part of war as actually fighting hand to hand combat.”

“Correct. If you weren’t such a goofball, there would probably be two Dende’s right now.”

Gohan gave a quick few laughs, then when quiet.

Piccolo waited silently for him to speak.

He waited a very long time.

“Mr. Piccolo…” Gohan finally started, but never finished his thought.

“Say what you are thinking Gohan,” Piccolo ordered, “Nothing you can say will ever make me mad. I have a thick skin.”

“Do… Do I… Do I have two grandfathers now…” he glanced up at his face, “that are kings?”

Piccolo smiled, showing his teeth.

Gohan gasped. Piccolo swore his eyes were sparkling.

Piccolo sighed and closed his eyes. He raised his finger. “One time. This one ti— ACK!”

Gohan flung his arms around Piccolo’s neck and knocked him flat on his back.

“Oofff,” he said, having the wind knocked out of him.

“Titim. Titim.” Gohan kept repeating, now crying in his ear.

Piccolo sighed and looked up at the clouds. He then suddenly raised his arms and gave two middle fingers to the sky.

Even thirty miles below, he could hear the laughing.

[tots-insane-ee]

uh. hcs for being on a long car trip with the warners?

Long car trip with the Warners would include:

Reminder: This is completely platonic and just pure fluff. Reader is gender-neutral and not species specific

Oh boy-

Okay, so we all know, based on the “I’m mad” segment from the original series how they would act in this situation… normally

These kids just don’t like sitting still in confined spaces for too long 

And also sibling shenanigans

But now that you are here it kinda shakes a few things up

It was actually Dr. Scracthansniff’s idea to go on a trip, he felt guilty about tricking the puppy children back in “Hindenburg cola” and they haven’t talked properly in 20 years. He wants to make up to them

BUT! He’s worried about things that can go wrong, because A) he knows what these kids are like and B) he thinks they might be mad at him

That’s where you come into the picture

“Please, Mrs. Y/n!” Scratchy would beg, following after you on his knees “I know we don’t know each other that much, but the kids like you and trust you. They would be so much happier and I’m sure it would be much more safer if you come along as well”

You didn’t plan on saying “no”. A trip and potential adventure with your zany friends?? Hell yeah! But you also felt kinda bad for the psychologist

He let you choose the place where you all will spend the day

You both went to the water tower the next day to help Yakko, Wakko and Dot getting ready

Let me tell you, when they saw you with Scratchansniff that morning next to the car, their excitement already left the charts 

The mood quickly changed

Oh, but bold of you to assume that this is gonna be easy, oh you poor soul 

You guys were going with Scratchy’s car and he was driving. 

Problem number 1: Who’s gonna sit in the passenger seat? You guys haven’t even left the movie lot, the argument already started

“Y/n gonna sit in the middle, but that means one of us has to be in the front seat.” “Well, Yakko, we all know what that means, right?” “Uhhhh no. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Me and Wakko are too young and short to sit in the passenger seat, it’s the law. It can only be you.” “What?! That’s not fair.” “Sorry bro, the rules are the rules.” “When did we ever care about the rules?? I refuse.” “Oh, so you mean you want Y/n to sit there? If you can’t sit with her you don’t want any of us to sit with her?” “Booo, selfish!” “No, I’m not!” “Yes, you are!” “Nuh-uh!” “You are-”

In the end, you agreed that Yakko stays in the backseat and you’ll switch places with him on the way back. He will be bitter about it but oh well

Now you all can actually go

It was nice and dandy and peaceful-

“You poked me with your elbow in my side!” “No I didn't!” “Yes you did!” “Nuh-uh!” “You did!” “You're lying, don't deny it!” “Oh, I'm gonna hit you.” “Yeah, just try it.” “Will both of you be quiet?!-” 

Ahhh… it has truly been a beautiful 5 minutes...

“You guys wanna play games?” Okay, now you got their attention “Oh, danke Gott…” Scratchy would say, letting out a relieved sigh

Scavenger hunt, I spy, would you rather, barkochba, whisper challenge, finish my sentence, never have I ever, punch buggy… you name it all!

Really competitive rock-paper-scissors sessions

“Cows on my side!” “Wakko… that’s a dalmatian.”

There was an attempt for “the quiet game”, they didn’t last for 10 seconds

Just imagine singing along to the songs from the radio together 

“Are we there yet? I'm tired. I'm hungry. How far? My nose is snotty. Need to move my body. Gotta use the potty. Better stop the car.” And so you guys stopped at a gas station, got some snacks too

They, no matter what they are doing or eating, won’t get car sick. 

(Will take care of you if you do. They were surprisingly prepared for that?? Like get you some water and rub your back gently, brushing the hair away from your face if you throw up)

“Stop it!” “No, you stop it!” ”Why can't you both just drop it?!” “Well, he started it!” “Oh, yeah, I'm really sure, uh-huh” “Na-ah!” “Uh-uh!”

As I said, they really can’t handle sitting in one place for too long

Once reaching your destination, they realized where exactly they are. It’s the same circus where Scratchy took them to one time

They would give you and Scratchansniff both a big hug and a kiss, then grab you by the hand to show you everything

The day passed away faster than you guys thought, it’s always this way when you have fun. The sun was setting and it was time to go home

The Warners apologized for arguing too much and they all took their seats, now you sitting between Wakko and Dot, and Yakko in the passenger seat

The ride back home was quiet. Both Wakko and Dot fell asleep next to you, leaning their heads onto your shoulders, curling next to your side. 

“Thanks for today, toots” Yakko whispered with a tired grin on his face. He turned around and reached his hand out so he could gently ruffle his sibs’ head. “The circus was your idea, wasn’t it?” You only flashed him a knowing smile, feeling sleepy as well. He poked your cheek in response before turning to Scratchansniff.

“Thanks to you too, Doc. I thought you forgot about this place.” “There’s nothing to thank. And how could I forget? We had so much fun that time as well. Also, truly… I missed you kids.” “Awe, we missed you too, old man”

You fell asleep listening to their talking, holding the other two Warners close

The next trip just can’t come soon enough

[kitkat1003]

Tower Tales

6: I’ll be home for Christmas....you can count on me...

AO3 link

@asilcorner

(also recorded myself singing the song in this chapter, listen here!)

Their first Christmas in the tower is on the horizon, and while they try to remain optimistic about it all, it’s hard to be happy when you’re living in a prison.

Yakko, as usual, is shoving down his own sadness with ease.  Wakko watches, with sharp eyes behind the veneer of dull suspicion, as Yakko cheerfully pulls out a Christmas tree from nowhere, has them all put up the ornaments one by one, instead of just throwing stuff on there.  To elongate the process, perhaps, to force them to focus on the action rather than the lack of an escape.

Wakko sees, sometimes, Yakko’s eyes dart to the water tower door.  He hears, at night, Yakko, going to the door and trying to wrench it open.  Some nights Yakko spends hours, sometimes minutes, and sometimes Wakko hears Yakko stop, sit, and cry into his knees.  He’s very quiet, but so is the tower, at night, and they have terribly good hearing for toons.

Yakko’s always smiling in the morning, with breakfast.  Wakko worries.

The first few months after they’d figured out them being locked up wasn’t some prank, they’d thrown anything they could at the door to try and get out.  After they’d ran out of ideas and materials, they’d quit, because it was more depressing to try, hope, be constantly disappointed than just to forget.

Or try to forget.  Wakko guesses that Yakko can’t.

And Dot isn’t exactly thrilled, either.  Wakko thinks she misses the outside more than she lets on.  He vaguely remembers her, on days they felt like wreaking havoc would be boring, taking them on a picnic.  The stock market hadn’t crashed yet, and then it did, so they didn’t have a lot of money.  They did have the ability to steal, but even then they didn’t do it much because it wasn’t fun or right to steal from people who were already going bankrupt.

They’re mischievous, not cruel.  Wakko wonders if the people who locked them in here knew that difference.

“What are we gonna do for Christmas?” he asks one afternoon, during lunch.  “Do you think Santa can get in here with the door locked?”

The question has Dot suck in a sharp breath.  She looks away, upset, and Yakko gives him a look, the one he gives whenever Wakko says something tactless.

Wakko doesn’t have a lot of tact.  He thinks he might’ve eaten it, whatever it is.

“Santa can get in anywhere,” Yakko replies, hands on his hips, confident.  “And we’ve been pretty good, despite the circumstances, so I think we’ll be getting plenty of presents from him.

That’s something that Wakko worries about.  Presents.  What is he even supposed to give his sibs that they can’t just create with toon powers?  Making cards seems lazy, even if he would put all his effort into them.

Yakko, he’s sure, already has an idea.  Because Yakko is smart.  Dot probably has them figured out too.

“I thought you were off Santa’s nice list,” Dot says with a grin.  “You know, for being a hypocrite?”

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me this year,” Yakko shoots back, hand on his chest, before standing up to put his plate in the sink.  Wakko will lick them clean with his tongue, and Dot will put them in the dishwasher, and one of them will put them away when they’re done depending on when it finishes.  They’re efficient, kind of.

“Should we decorate?” he asks, because so far they only have the tree, and the tower looks a little barren.

Dot’s eyes sparkle at the idea, and Wakko knows he is going to regret asking.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the end of the next day, the whole tower is put together, tinsel and twinkling lights that flicker hanging from the walls and ceiling.  Dot puts mistletoe over every doorway they’ve made, and every time they happen to be beneath it, she makes sure they either give her a kiss on the cheek or she gives them one.

Yakko thinks it’s cute, if silly, and Wakko just shrugs it off.

They make a fireplace, with a chimney that they aren’t sure goes all the way through.  Wakko tried climbing it, but halfway up he found himself shot back down, rolling across the floor covered in soot.

He couldn’t even try and argue to not take a bath that day.  Yakko had dunked him in and hadn’t let him out until the black stopped coming off on Yakko’s gloves.

His hopes for Santa visiting are dashed, and he can see Dot deflate too.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko mutter, and Wakko wonders.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot is very, very sure that this Christmas is going to be great.  She knows it is, despite the fact that they don’t even know if Santa can come see them, despite the fact that they won’t be able to go anywhere to see snow, despite how the world around her wants to tell her it won’t be.

She will spite that because she refuses to let anyone take this season from her.  She and Yakko and Wakko start a food fight in the kitchen when making cookies, and cookie batter splatters all over the wall.  Wakko ducks behind the kitchen island, with her, and holds out his hand.

“Truce?” He’s wearing an army hat, comically large on his head, with the straps hanging down past his shoulders.

If she wasn’t astronomically cute herself, Wakko might give her a run for her money.

“Let’s give our brother a wet new coat,” she agrees, and Yakko becomes the color of cookie batter in seconds.

“Betrayal!  By my own siblings no less!  Is nothing sacred?!” Yakko cries, leaning heavily against the stove with the back of his hand placed dramatically against his forehead.  Dot and Wakko giggle, coming around to face him.

“I don’t know, I think this is a good look for you,” Dot gives him a once over and hides a laugh behind her hand.  Wakko reaches out a finger and swipes a bit of the batter off of Yakko, sticking it in his mouth to taste.

“Mmmm,” he grins, and Yakko gets a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You know, you’re right Dot!  I ought to share my new looks with you, don’t you think?” he reaches out and sweeps them into a goopy hug before either of them can escape, and all three of them share the wealth of the batter that was supposed to go in the oven.

Dot takes a bath, then Yakko does, and Wakko licks himself and the kitchen clean.  He’d offered to lick them clean, but they politely declined.

“Slobber just isn’t a good look on me,” she’d told him, and Wakko had shrugged and eaten the demolished mixing bowl.

After that, they actually make cookies, because as tasty as the batter was to Wakko, they might want some warm, chocolatey goodness.

They make milk-free ones, too, even though Yakko says they don’t have to, because they want him to have a good time too.

Besides, the cookies taste fine without milk.  Who needs lactose?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Dot is sitting at her vanity, and she looks in the mirror and is ever aware of the background of cold metal.  The decorations look gorgeous, she put them up, she did everything she could to make the Tower become the season she loves.  

(Well, she technically loves the spring the most, with its gorgeous flowers and sunny days for picnics, but still.  Who doesn’t love winter?  It has Christmas!  And, now, it has Yakko’s birthday!)

But, even with all the decorations and fun, even with the mistletoe and the letters to Santa she can’t send, she feels...

Miserable.

She wants to go outside.  She wants to play in the snow.  She wants to harass street carolers by messing with the lyrics of their songs.  She wants to be out there, with people, in the world, instead of sequestered away.

She sighs, remembering a tune from their previous Christmas.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

Where the love light gleams...

She trails off and sighs again, resting her arms on the vanity, and then her head on her arms.

She doesn’t notice the figure peeking from the third floor, frowning down at her in concern.  Doesn’t notice the lightbulb appear over his head, before he ducks back upstairs.

She just sits there, thinking of the last time she saw a single snowflake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko locks up the third floor, a week and a half before Christmas.

When they ask, he tells them it’s a surprise.  Because it will be.  He finally knows what his gift for them, for Christmas, will be, and he can’t let them ruin it, because he really wants to see the pure surprise on their faces when they witness it.

He spends the days up till Christmas Eve working on it, finishing it Christmas Eve morning after breakfast and before lunch.  He’ll have to double check it before showing it to them, but that’s fine.  It’ll be about ten minutes security and then he can show them the magic he has in store.

Dot has swapped out her typical character modeled dress for a long sleeved one, with white fuzz trim on the hem and where the sleeves end.  Yakko has a pair of deer antlers, and keeps calling himself Rudolph, whoever that is.  Yakko says it’s going to be a hit a few years from now.

Wakko just puts on a Santa hat on top of his baseball cap and calls it a day.  Dot calls him lazy, and he shrugs, cause that’s a fair assessment.

Christmas Eve is as fun as it is weird, because they don’t have anything anywhere to do to celebrate, but they cut out little paper snowflakes and angels to hang up and then watch and see how much eggnog Wakko can chug at once.

The answer is around 6 gallons, give or take, because Yakko capped him off there, worried.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dot snickers, and Wakko tilts his head to the side with a hiccup.

“Isn’t a male chicken a cock?” 

Yakko laughs.

“Goodnight everybody!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They meant to stay up, but they’re kids, so they fall asleep eventually.  Wakko, kicking and squirming in bed, because even asleep he can’t stay still, wakes to the sound of frantic whispers.

“Please, just-just for tonight,” Yakko’s voice is quiet and pleading, and when Wakko blinks away the sleep from his eyes he turns into see Yakko, standing in front of Santa, hand gripping Santa’s coat.

And Wakko doesn’t have the time to process the fact that Santa is here, and real, because Yakko keeps talking.

“Please-just take them out, I’ll stay inside.  We-just for the night, just let them see the sky again, some snow, it’s been months, please,” Wakko can’t see Santa’s face, but he does see the shake of his head.  

Yakko’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Just one ride?  They’ll be good-I-,” Yakko pauses. “Okay, maybe they won’t be, you know them, but I’ll make sure they are, okay?  They-they don’t deserve to be locked in here.  It’s Christmas, so just for tonight-please.”

There’s something so young about Yakko’s voice, then.  Yakko doesn’t sound like a kid, sometimes, and Wakko doesn’t always either, but for him it’s for laughs and for Yakko it’s because he’s tired.

Santa says something, puts a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, and Yakko deflates.  Wakko doesn’t even notice that there are new presents under the tree yet, because he’s too busy trying to be quiet enough to hear.

“Just go,” Yakko’s voice is hard, and quiet, and cold, and sad.  Santa pulls another present from his bag and sets it beneath the tree, and disappears up the chimney.

Wakko watches Yakko tremble in place, for a good two minutes.  He counts the seconds in his head, because it feels like they go so slow.  Yakko finally stops, takes in a deep breath, and sighs.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko repeat, and he pretends to snore as Yakko walks back to bed, and buries his face in the pillow.

It takes a long time for him to get back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko wakes up on Christmas to the smell of peppermint hot cocoa at the crack of dawn-at the very least, it feels like the crack of dawn, because it’s earlier than he’s woken up in a while, but the elation of Christmas!!!! has him up in an instant.

There’s a large stack of presents beneath the tree, their names written in pretty cursive of the same handwriting.  Dot is all cheer, and he watches her skip towards the kitchen.  He shuffles over himself.  Yakko sets two cups of hot cocoa on the table, and swirls the top with a large helping of whipped cream, before sprinkling some peppermint on top.

“Merry Christmas, sibs,” he smiles down at them, and it almost makes Wakko forget about the night before.  “My gift to you is your menu of choice.  The whole day, a la carte menu.  Whatever you guys want, I’ll make.  So, what’s for breakfast?”

Wakko’s eyes are blown wide. Yakko has no idea the can of worms he’s opened with that open ended gift.  Or, maybe he does, because he puts on a chef’s coat and hat, and sets up the stove, and a grill, and the oven.

“Bring it on, little brother.  But, uh, let me make Dot’s first?  Something tells me hers will be a biiiiit quicker to make.” Wakko bites his tongue at that request, and Dot prattles off a normal order, because she’s boring.

By the time Yakko is done with Wakko’s order, he’s out of baloney in his slacks.

“I’ll put some more in there later.” He shrugs it off, and Wakko finishes off plate thirty seven with a grin. 

After that, they open up the presents under the tree.  Yakko gets some notebooks, a set of fancy pens, and a very expensive looking leather belt.  He also gets some books, and a perfect replica of a Shakespearian outfit.

He seems happy, but his smile is strained.  Wakko thinks he knows why.  Yakko is getting better at hiding it, though, because he almost didn’t notice Yakko was sad at all.  There’s still a trace, though.

Wakko wonders if he’ll start forgetting to look for that.

Dot gets the latest model of hair straightener and curler, and a wide breadth of makeup products, as well as a poetry book that she regards with half suspicion and half curiosity.  She gets a notebook and pen, too, one with a feather plume sticking out the end.  She uses it to brush underneath her chin, giggling.

Wakko gets some chew toys, some that he doesn’t see himself devouring just yet, and a necklace with a chew on too.  He puts it on and nibbles on it as he opens up the others.  He gets an engineering book, called “Building Without the Math,” and it sounds right up his alley.  He also gets a tool kit, which he places in his gag bag for safe keeping. 

The other items are mostly random toys they hadn’t known existed because they haven’t been outside.  Wakko uses the propeller of a toy plane as a fan, and then spits in it to see the drool droplets hover.

“Eugh,” Dot growls out, looking away, before she sighs and reaches into her dress pocket.  “This leads to my gift.” She hands both Yakko and Wakko a set of flash cards on a ring.

“Coupons?” Yakko flips through them, and then snickers.

“You two can do things that...,” Dot struggles for the world.  “Make me uncomfortable.  Cause you’re boys.” She rolls her eyes. “But you like to do them ‘cause they make you happy, not because they make me annoyed, so these are your passes for that.  Valid for a year.”

There are ones like “Can lick me” and “Allowed to not bathe for 2 weeks” that Wakko thinks are specifically targeted at him but hey, why not?  Baths are dumb, and he licks to show affection!  He sticks the cards in his cap.

Yakko rips one out, hands it to her.

“Thanks, Dottie,” he stresses her least favorite nickname, and she bares her teeth in a very strained smile, snatching the coupon from his hand.  But Yakko laughs, and soon enough, they all are.

“I’m also going to put away the decorations, no extra charge,” she waves a hand.  

“Sounds good to me,” Wakko hops up, fidgeting with his long sleeves.  “I...have to prepare my gift for you.  Can you guys wait on the second floor?”

Yakko and Dot share a look, and then nod.

Wakko vanishes up to the third floor, heart in his throat.

He hopes this works.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He makes them put blindfolds on, pulling them up the stairs.  Yakko holds Dot’s hand in one and Wakko’s in the other, helping Dot up as Wakko drags him along.

“What’s with the secrecy, Wakko?” He asks, and Wakko bounces in nervous excitement, tail curled around his leg.

“It’s a surprise,” he insists, and sets them up perfectly, on the mark he planned out.  He’d checked, double checked, triple checked.  If this doesn’t work he is going to lose it.

He turns off the lights, and pushes his contraption to the back of the room.

“Wakko, I would like to see sometime today,” Dot calls, and Wakko fidgets.

“Almost done!” The ice is in, okay, now just push the button.

There’s a series of clanks, and then a loud, grinding sound.  Dot and Yakko shiver, and Wakko is glad he used scarves for blindfolds.

There’s a loud FWUMP, and Wakko bounces on his toes.  His feet make indents in the ground.

“Okay, you can look now!”

Dot and Yakko pull down their blindfolds, and Dot gasps.

They’re surrounded by snow.

There’s a model of a crescent moon up by the ceiling, that acts like a lamp, and glow in the dark stars that glimmer pasted up on the ceiling, with constellations they find familiar.  From the machine in the back, snowflakes are shot out, drifting slowly to the ground.

“I, uh, I made snow,” Wakko shrugs, a little self conscious.  “Since we can’t go outside, I thought...,” What is there to say?

Dot takes one step into the snow, like she can’t believe it, and squeals when her feet crunches into it, jumping around.

Yakko is still dumbstruck, until Dot comes around and shoves snow down his pants.  He jumps up comically high with a shriek, ears brushing the ceiling, and when he falls into the snow it makes a perfect imprint of him.

“Oh, that’s it!” he picks up some snow and throws it at her.  Dot throws some back.  Wakko runs into the fray, nailing Dot in the face, and she takes her revenge with deadly precision, before sprinting over to him and tackling him into the ground.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she shouts so loud that Wakko’s ears ring.

“Merry Christmas?” he tries, and she laughs.

“I knew you were my favorite brother!”

“Hey, I’m offended!” Yakko sprints over, but he’s laughing too, and he drops on top of them, wrapping his arms around them and rolling over in the snow, so they’re on top of him.

He nuzzles Wakko’s nose with his own.

“Nice job, little brother.  Think you got us beat with this gift.” Wakko blushes, looking away.

“Wanna make a snowman?” he responds, because you’re welcome seems too formal.  

“Heck yeah!” Dot jumps up and runs over to a large pile of snow.

“Watch your fucking language!” Yakko barks without heat.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Wakko giggles, and Yakko sits up.

“C’mon, let’s not let her have all the fun,” Yakko picks him up and sets him off to the side, and Wakko is off like a shot the moment his feet touch the ground.

He thinks about the night before, of Yakko’s words.

Who needs the guy, anyway?

Beneath the fake moonlight, where the snow still sparkles like Wakko remembers, with Dot giggling up a storm as they make the largest snowman they can, with Yakko looking lighter than he has since they got stuck in here, Wakko can’t help but agree.

Who needs Santa anyway?

He can hear the tune from before, in his head, and hums it as they work, smile widening when Dot and Yakko join in.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams!

[eevee-eclair]

I Wonder Why?

Written by Eevee

Things to look out for: Back pain, (tell me if I missed one!)

Random side note: Sorry this took so long! I’m kinda burnt out so after this I’m gonna take a small break. I’ll still take small requests though!

Taglist: @lehuka123 @helenisdoodling @suavebiscuitsaregood @cherry-dork @oakwoodforest @confident-tavros @chad-garlude @littel-snail @lemonade-thieves @kitardene @rosepuppett

~~~

Yakko woke up to a sore back. He slowly sat up and winced. He shouldn’t be surprised, he slept in a ball-pit for crying out loud! But even though it hurt his back, he loved the comfort it gave him.

He wouldn’t tell his siblings this, but the balls in the ball-pit made him feel safe. It was a weird thing to say so he never did. When someone would ask, he would tell them it was because he was “zanny to the max” and they would just nod and agree before moving on.

Yakko was pulled from is thoughts when his sister jumped down beside him. “Morning, Yakko!” she said, smiling.

Yakko smiled back. “Hey, sis. How’d ya sleep?”

“Good! I got all my beauty rest!” she told him. Yakko noted how happy she sounded.

“That’s good,” he muttered, yawning. “Where’s Wakko?”

“Right here!” they said, dropping down next to dot. “What’s up?”

Yakko shrugged and started to stand. “Nothiiiin— Ow ow ow!” His sentence was interrupted by a sharp pain shooting through his back.

Dot and Wakko were at his side immediately as he fell back into the ball-pit. “Are you okay?!” Dot asked.

Yakko nodded. “I think so... My back hurts though...”

Dot crossed her arms. “It’s because you sleep in a ball-pit! That’s not a proper sleeping spot,” she scolded.

“I know,” he said. “But it’s fun!” He repeated the same thing he tells everyone. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna replace it anytime soon.”

Wakko huffed. “Yakko, you’re hurting yourself!” they cried, flailing their arms around. “If you won’t get a new bed, at least sleep on the couch!”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not going to sleep on the couch! I’m fine where I sleep.”

“I can see the bags under your eyes,” Dot deadpanned. “Come on, Yakko! It won’t kill you!”

Yakko stood up slowly. “I’m fine see?” He was hiding the pain he was in, but his siblings could see right through him.

Wakko and Dot looked at each other before nodding. Dot ran behind him while Wakko stayed in front. Yakko knew what was coming but wasn’t quick enough to stop it. Wakko stuck out their arms while Dot knocked his knees out, making him fall into his sibling’s arms.

He yelped as he fell and Wakko dragged him to the couch. “Wakko, put me down!” he cried.

They didn’t listen, they just kept walking until they dumped him on the softer sleeping area. “Sleep well, brother!” they said as Dot dropped a blanket on him and stuffed a pillow under his head.

“W-wait! We have an episode to film!” Yakko argued. He tried to get up but Wakko pushed him back down. “Come on, sib! Let me up!”

Both Warners shook their heads. “You need rest!” Dot told him. “So you’re going to sleep before this episode. And no buts,” she added as Yakko started to object.

“Fine,” he muttered, rolling over. He wouldn’t say it, but he was thankful. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Wakko turned to Dot as soon as he was out. “We gotta do something about that bed,” they said.

“Agreed,” she muttered. “He’d be mad if we changed it to a real bed, so what if we replaced the plastic balls with something softer? Like memory foam balls?”

Wakko smiled and nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Let’s get to work!” They ran out of the water tower with Dot following right behind.

———

Yakko woke to the sound of giggles. Sitting up slowly so he didn’t hurt his back, he looked for the source of the sound. He spotted Wakko and Dot and gave them a lazy smile. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

Dot looked over. “You’re awake!” She ran over and hugged him. “Good morning!”

Yakko hugged her back. “Good morning. What’s so funny?” he asked again.

Wakko walked over. “It’s not exactly a joke, but we did something for you!” they said, smiling.

“What did you do?” he asked, suddenly serious. Usually when his siblings did something for him it didn’t end well.

“Nothing bad, we promise!” Dot told him, pulling back. “In fact, we think you’ll like it!”

Yakko nodded and started to stand. “Then lead the way.”

Wakko started to run over to the ball-put with Dot right behind. It took Yakko a little longer to get there since he didn’t want to hurt his back, but eventually they were all standing in front of Yakko’s bed.

“Ta-da!” Dot waved her hands in front of the ball-pit. “Notice anything different?”

Yakko looked at it for a long time before shaking his head. “I got nothin’. What did you do?”

“We replaced the plastic balls with softer ones!” Wakko blurted. They were too excited to keep their mouth shut so they kept going. “Now you should be able to sleep without hurting yourself!”

Yakko looked down at the ball-pit and picked up a ball. Sure enough, the hard plastic was switched out for a soft and squishy material. He was shocked to say the least.

Dot stepped a little closer. “Do you like it..?” she asked.

Yakko smiled and pulled them both into a hug. “Yes! I don’t know why I didn’t do this before! Thank you sibs!” he cried, holding them tight.

Wakko and Dot sighed in relief and hugged him back. “It was no big deal,” Wakko said, trying to shrug.

“Yeah, we just wanted to help!” Dot added.

Yakko smiled a little wider. “Well you succeed, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Wakko and Dot said together.

Yakko let them go and stood up. “Now, what’s for breakfast? I haven’t eaten all day,” he said, walking to the kitchen. Dot and Wakko were right behind him.

For now, Yakko would go through his daily routine but later tonight? He was going to have the best sleep in a long time. And the best part about it all was his secret about the ball-pit was safe.

[badwolfrunning]

Ok. Fine. Have it.

If I've got the math right, Yakko is 20, Wakko's 16ish and Dot's 14/15

Yakko kept an eye on Dot for another few moments. Her romance with Skippy had been fleeting and remarkably short lived. 

He’d returned to the house one day to an extremely upset Dot sobbing on the shoulder of a frustrated and confused Wakko and an exasperated Bugs. 

His immediate instinct was to gather Dot into his arms and find out what the hell was going on. She went from clinging onto Wakko to clinging on to him. There was a comically large wet spot on Wakko's t-shirt.

Bugs gave him a knowing nod as he took over consoling his siblings and the rabbit left the room to give the kids some space.

As Yakko worked on calming Dot down enough to speak clearly, he heard Wakko mutter, “I’ll fuckin kill him,” Yakko couldn’t help but almost immediately share the sentiment. Wakko wasn’t exactly an angry toon. Whatever happened must have been bad. Before Yakko could ask, Dot finally spoke in a strained, waterlogged voice, “No you won’t. Nothing bad happened. We just,” her breath hitched again, “We just broke up!”

“Then why are you so upset?” Wakko threw his hands up.

“Wakko, stop." Yakko's expression was more pleading than his tone. "My question stands, Dot, what happened?” 

She gathered as much of a breath as she could,

“I thought it would be fine. 

I just….it’s not what I thought,” She took a deep breath, “the dating thing I...I just thought it’d be different and it wasn’t and I don’t not like Skippy," she sniffled, "I just...I...I guess I pictured things differently than they turned out? Nothing changed, it was like we were still just friends and I actually liked that more. So I-I told him and he agreed." She shook, holding back a sob.

"But we were supposed to go to the movies with Jane and Tal and Felix, so I asked if he was still going and he said he didn’t want to see me for a while. And I just” she started gasping in air, sobs threatening to escape again "I didn't want him as a boyfriend but I feel like I lost a-lost a friend and now he might never wanna talk to me again and it-it-it just hurts!” 

Dot clutched her hand to her chest tumbling back into wracking sobs. Yakko held her close and started to sway gently, letting her let it out.

He sighed. Breakups sucked. But nothing particularly bad had happened. There was no bad guy here, no wrong-doing they just….ended it. And maybe Skippy just needed some space. Hell, he knew he would. His lips pursed together as he calculated next moves, or what to say to comfort her, when he heard Wakko call out, 

“I’ll be right back.”

His brother’s feet nearly pounded up the stairs and Yakko turned his attention to Dot. Sitting her down on the couch with a pet through her hair, he got up and got them both some water and Dot a few more tissues.

“Thanks.” she said in a small voice when he returned. She was practically tucked into the corner of the couch. He hated when she acted small.

She often acted cute but small was different; small was defeated and weak and sad. His sister was an incredibly powerful young woman and even when she was using her adorable sweetness to get what she wanted, there was always an air of awareness or strength behind it.

Right now, she was just so small. He sat beside her and offered a hug which she quickly accepted melding herself against his side. A few moments of silence and sniffling past.

"I'm quite proud of you, you know. You handled your first breakup pretty maturely."

"Huh?" 

"I know it doesn't feel like it, but telling Skippy how you felt, about how things weren't working out, is a mature way to handle things. Better than continuing to pretend like everything's perfect until something better came along."

"Yeah. I guess." 

"And, I can't speak for Skip but girls like you don't come around everyday. I'm sure he still wants to be your friend. He just might need a bit of space, clear his own head. I mean, I'd be pretty bummed too if I blew my chance with an incredible young woman like you."

Dot didn't respond, just continued holding his arm and staring off at the distance. He knew she was listening. He placed a chaste kiss on top of her head.

“What do you say, we rot out our brains a bit, sister sib?,” she nodded he flipped on the TV, some old Looney Tunes started playing. It wasn’t brilliant but it was silly enough to calm Dot and her vice grip on his arm loosened some.

About halfway through a segment, Wakko stepped in lightly with something in hand. He stood in front of their sister, and handed Dot a bowl and spoon.

Ice cream. 

Dot sniffled, “Thanks, Wakko.” Snuggling back into the couch and Yakko’s side, Wakko sat on her other side.

“Guess it’s all I can do for now,” Wakko shrugged then nudged her, "since you won't let me kill him."

Dot smiled and pushed him back.

Dot took a few bites of ice cream, offering to share a bit with Wakko who declined. A sure fire sign that he was still upset. They sat in silence, watching cartoons for a short while. Soon enough, empty bowl sitting in her lap, Dot leaned her head against Wakko’s shoulder.

Softly, she spoke again, coming back into her own voice, “Who needs boys when I’ve got the best brothers in the world,” earning her a grin from Wakko and a head scratch from Yakko.

"We could just fight them off with a stick for you,"

"Nah, mallets are more effective,"

"Says you!"

Dot rolled her eyes as her brothers argued the best ways to scare a guy off. She didn't feel fully ok yet but she trusted Wakko and Yakko to have her back.

Everything was going to be fine.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Can you write a follow up on your "all the yeerks suddenly die" au?

[Follows from this AU; all you have to know from that one is that all the yeerks suddenly died somewhere between the events of #19 and #20.]

Three days after a military scientist officially confirms that the strange new sinkhole beneath the California mall was put there by an extraterrestrial intelligence, and that multiple area teenagers have been leading a resistance movement, the paparazzi descends upon the high school.  They’re not allowed to cross onto school grounds, but that doesn’t stop the whole flock of them from mobbing the drop-off line, hoping for any further information on the infamous child warriors.

They’re destined to be disappointed.  Even armed with extensive rosters detailing the rumors about who was and was not involved in the war, there’s no footage to be had of any of the Animorphs entering or leaving the school.

“I feel like a damn drug mule,” Jordan grumbles as she dumps the contents of her backpack on the locker room floor.  Two roaches skitter out from among the books and clothes, and immediately start demorphing.  “I have to take my own stuff to school too, you know.”

“Sorry,” Cassie says as she finishes the morph.  “And thanks for the ride.”

“You’re not the problem.”  Jordan hands over Cassie’s jeans and sneakers, and then pointedly shoves the remaining pile of stuff — skirt, blouse, leggings, socks, bra, platform boots, makeup kit, hairspray — toward Rachel.

“It’s not a crime to want to look good,” Rachel sniffs, grabbing the hairspray.

A week later Rachel flings herself into the chair across from Chapman’s desk, tilting it back on two legs.  “Long time, no see.  What’s the damage this time?”

It seems to take an age for him to look up from the file on the desk in front of him.  “Bailey Matthews is being checked for concussion,” he says at last.  “No word from the nurse yet.”

Rachel blows her bangs off her face, exasperated.  “Not him, me.  What’ll it be?  Three detentions?  Four detentions?  Let’s have it.”

Chapman folds his hands on the desk in front of him.  “Given this is your third disciplinary action in less than a semester, it’s an automatic suspension.  Effective immediately.  I’ve already contacted your guardian—”

“What?  My mom’s a civilian, you can’t just—”

“You attacked a fellow student.  I can do what I deem necessary to keep it from happening again.”

“So you called my mommy to tell her what a bad girl I’ve been?”  Rachel sneers.

“So I talked Principal Walsh down from expulsion,” he says quietly.

Rachel’s mouth falls open.  “Expulsion?  What the fuck.”

“You have, inarguably, ‘demonstrated a consistent pattern of violent behavior.’”  Chapman reads this last off the file in front of him.  “I argued that your exemplary GPA and clean disciplinary record up until this last year are evidence that this pattern arises from an undiagnosed stressor outside the school environment.  I have already contacted one of the counselors in the school’s network, and recommended that you talk to Dr. Irvine twice a week at minimum.”  He looks up at Rachel.  “She was a controller too.  It was the best I could do.”

“You think I need therapy?” Rachel demands.  “You think I’m off the rails?”

“Rachel...”  Chapman takes a breath, and then another.  “You’ve been forced to grow up too quickly, with no guides.  You’ve been asked to assume a burden that can and has killed men twice your age from the stress alone.  And you’ve had to do it without any of the social or structural support that actual military personnel would have.  That is, in essence, the definition of complex trauma.”

“And if I refuse your headshrinker?”

“Fine.”  He makes a note in the file.  “You’re suspended an additional two days.  If that’s what it’ll take to cool you off.”

Bang.  Rachel’s chair falls upright as she stands.  “You think you scare me?  Huh?”

“Sit.  Down.”  Chapman shoves to his feet as well.

Rachel’s chin comes up.  “Or what?”

“Or we’ll continue to escalate,” Chapman snaps.  “Until you morph and smear me across the linoleum.  You’ll have to kill me, but you’ll find a way to cover that up.  So there will be no real consequences for your actions, as usual.  Is that what you want?”  He’s practically shouting by the end.

Rachel stares at him.  Eyes wide.  Face pale.

Chapman takes a step back from her.  He sits back down, breathing hard, clearly fighting his own temper.  “I didn’t ask for this job,” he says quietly.  “The yeerks just placed me here.  But the fact remains that it is my responsibility to look out for all of the students in this school, Rachel.  All of them.  I want to help you, but I need to help Bailey and all the others as well.  So if you’re going to continue to be a threat to the safety of my students, then you can you can either shape up or get out.  Do I make myself clear?”

Without a word, Rachel whirls around and shoves out the door.

“Jaaaaake,” Tom calls down the stairs, a distinct sing-song quality to his voice, “your girlfriend’s on the phone.”

Jake runs for the phone, pulling it away from Tom.  “Cassie?” he says breathlessly.

“Rachel too,” Rachel says from the other end.  “Actually, you should loop Tom in.  This concerns him as well.”

Jake switches on speakerphone, setting the phone on the end of the bannister.  Tom gives him a questioning look; Jake shrugs.

“We just got done telling my parents about everything,” Cassie says into the phone.  “Now that everyone knows about the yeerks, it seemed like time.”

“We’re off to tell my mom next,” Rachel weighs in, voice tinny.  “I’m the one who suggested Cassie spill the beans.  Obviously our sibs and Marco’s parents already know, so it was just a matter of time.”

Jake takes a deep breath, staring at the ceiling as if imploring it for patience.  “You do remember the part where we all agreed we’d decide as a team when to tell the parents, right?  And you remember before that, when we voted to wait until we got official confirmation that the yeerks were all dead before doing anything reckless?  Because I seem to recall that that time you also went haring off and told Tom about us all being Animorphs.”

“Told you he wouldn’t be happy,” Cassie says quietly.

“Rach, quick question.”  Tom leans close to the phone.  “Actually, two questions.  First, is he always this bossy?  And second: if so, how did you go this long without strangling him?”

“Oh, shut up,” Jake mutters.

“See?”  Tom raises his eyebrows.  “Bossy.”

“Anyway, we wanted to give you a heads up,” Cassie says, too diplomatic to respond to that directly.  “Because if we tell Rachel’s parents, yours are going to find out pretty soon.”

“Cool,” Tom says.  “I’ve been saying we should tell from the start.  Jake can take care of that.”

Jake’s mouth opens halfway in indignation.  “Why just me?”

“Mom, Dad.”  Tom addresses thin air.  “You know how my grades have taken a nosedive this last quarter?  It’s not my fault, because I was mind-controlled by aliens.  Aliens that have since mysteriously disappeared.”  He widens his eyes.  “No, I’m not lying to get out of being grounded, and I can’t imagine why you would ever think that.”  He looks at Jake.  “See?  I don’t even believe myself.”

“He has a point,” Rachel says.

“Whereas you...”  Tom points at Jake.  “Just go ‘Hey guys, look what I can do!’  And then...”  He makes a gesture that is probably meant to convey morphing.  Either that or that he’s attempting to give himself the heimlich maneuver.  It’s a little unclear.

“Fine.”  Jake rolls his eyes.  “But you have to be there to back me up.”

“Bossy,” Tom whispers loudly.

“Bossy,” Rachel agrees, in an even louder whisper.

Marco goes on a date with Bethany Stevens.  It ends abruptly when she asks him if he knows anything about the alien stuff that’s been all over town, and doesn’t believe him when he announces that that has nothing to do with him and even if it did he wouldn’t want to talk about it.  It’s stupid, he’ll think later, to panic over being outed by a random civilian.  But paranoia doesn’t disappear overnight, even if apparently yeerks do.

“Um.  Hi.”  Tobias stops in the door of Chapman’s office, left hand wrapped around his right elbow.  “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes.”  Chapman sets a slim envelope on his desk.  “This isn’t how it was supposed to be delivered, but Warren DeGroot thought it best to waive...”  He cuts himself off.  “It’s your father’s will.  I ended up with it because the yeerks read it — illegally, sorry — and immediately went looking for you.”

Tobias doesn’t step into the room.  He stares at the envelope.  “My father’s dead?”

“Yes.”  Chapman shifts in place.  “I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

Tobias shakes his head.  “I don’t know anything about him.  Never even met the guy.”

“Actually...”  Chapman shakes his head.  He nudges the envelope closer to Tobias, who still has not made a move toward it.  “Just read what he said, it’ll explain everything better than I can.  It’s not much of an excuse, but I did think you already knew, given your closeness to Aximili.”

“He abandoned me before I was even born.”  Tobias’s tone tries for apathy.  “What’s Ax got to do with it?”

Chapman gestures at the paper.  “Just read it.”

Tobias darts forward like a mouse entering an open field, snatching the envelope and retreating back to the doorway.

“Tobias!” Chapman says, stopping him in the doorway.  “You’ll probably have questions.  I’m not the best person to ask — I barely knew him for a few weeks, and I can’t claim we were ever friends — but if I can help at all...”

“Okay,” Tobias says.  “Thanks.”  And then he runs for it.

Tobias and Rachel walk each other to class.  Tobias and Rachel kiss in the hall when they arrive for the day.  Tobias and Rachel eat lunch together, leaning close to whisper to each other over a single shared carton of milk.

The rumor mill is appalled, of course.  What’s she doing with a guy like that?  Rachel’s the most popular girl in the ninth grade, and Allison heard from Brady who heard from Juan who knows for a fact that she had no less than four requests to go to Homecoming with various guys.  One was even a tenth-grader.

And yet she’s not holding hands with that tenth-grader.  Nope, she’s letting herself be seen in public with that new kid, the weird one.  The one who hunches his shoulders when startled and actually hissed at Andy Mitchell last week.  The one who’s always staring way off into middle distance, never paying attention to where he’s going.  Yeah, that new kid.

It’s the scandal of the century.

“...Jake?”  Ms. Hanna is leaning forward over Jake’s desk, frowning down at him.  They’re alone, the rest of his History class already having left at some point.  He must’ve lost time again.  Crap.  He hates zoning out in the middle of class.

“Sorry.”  Jake drags a shaking hand over his face, grimacing at the feel of fear-sweat on his skin.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh, not pay attention.”  It won’t be his first detention this month, and probably not his last.

“Are you back with me?” Ms. Hanna asks.  Her tone is... gentle.  Her pad of detention slips is still on her desk.  “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“Sorry,” Jake mutters again.  “I probably missed a lot.”

“It’s just the Revolutionary War, you can catch up later.”  She makes an impatient gesture.  “Can I get you anything?”  Her tone has softened again.  “A glass of water?  Do you want me to write you a pass for the nurse’s office?”

Immediately Jake shakes his head.  The school nurse is a civilian.  Ms. Hanna, it’s becoming obvious, is not.

“How about I get your brother, then?” she suggests.  “If you need to go home, it’s no trouble to write notes for you both.”  She moves to put her hand on Jake’s arm, but stops when he flinches at the motion.

“Could...”  Jake breathes in, then out.  The trembling will be gone soon, he knows.  “Could I just sit here for a minute?  Is that okay?”

“Of course.”  Ms. Hanna takes several steps back, giving him space.  “Of course, honey.  Take all the time you need.”

«You wished to see me, Prince Alloran.»  Ax stands at attention in the middle of the incongruously cheery-looking park, doing his best to ignore the gawking humans on the playground down at the other end.  He can’t imagine why Alloran wanted to meet here.

«There’s no need for formality, Aximili, we both know you have far more combat experience than I do.»  Alloran makes a dismissive gesture.

Slowly Ax lowers his tail.  «What is this about, sir?»

«That was commendable work with the human radio telescope, Aximili.  It has successfully intercepted signals from the andalite forces from as far away as the Anati homeworld.»  Alloran’s tone is careful in a way Ax does not like.  As they speak, circling the park, Ax can feel all eyes following them from all sides.  «Including a few highly encrypted, deeply euphemistic allusions to a mission that took place two local months ago here on Earth.»

«Andalites?» Ax asks sharply.  «Here?»

«Not a counter-invasion, of course.  A small force of war criminals, not officially recognized or endorsed by any authority, all of whom were declared dead before the mission even began.  A force specifically designed to keep the War Council’s hands clean.»

«A Suicide Squad?» Ax suggests.

Alloran makes a gesture that Ax interprets to mean sounds like some human nonsense I haven’t bothered to learn about, and keeps going.  «All four were meant to have died, by their own tails if not in battle.  That way, they could never speak a word of their mission to anyone else.»

«Their mission,» Ax repeats.  He has a horrible suspicion about the nature of that mission, given the timing — mere days before the death of every yeerk on the planet.

«Aximili, I called you here to meet the architect of the yeerks’ demise.  The creator of the second quantum virus we have now deployed in this war, one far more monstrous than anything even I could have devised.»

Alloran whirls faster than any human can react, tail bullwhipping through the air to stop millimeters from the throat of an ordinary-looking human girl.  Several people cry out in surprise, but the girl just looks calmly up at him.  “Prince Alloran,” she says.

«Estrid-Corill-Darrath,» he answers.  «My brother must have been so proud.»  This does not sound like a compliment.

«You must be very skilled, to have made a hybrid morph so soon,» Ax says.  «But you have a lot to learn about pretending to be a human.»

Estrid begins to demorph.  She never takes her eyes off Alloran, and he never moves his blade away from her throat.  «I ended the war,» she says flatly.  «You’re all very welcome.»

«Truly,» Alloran says, «It is an honor to be standing in the presence of the greatest mass murderer in all of history.  One who lacked even the courage to die for her sins.  You have surpassed me in every conceivable way, aristh.»

Estrid makes a sharp, dismissive gesture with her own tail.  The closest human equivalent Ax can imagine is if she had spat upon Alloran’s shoes.

«What do you mean to do with her?» Ax asks.  If she actually did what Alloran accuses — unleashed a virus deadly enough to annihilate the yeerks — then he finds himself torn between disgust and awe.  But that doesn’t mean he wants her dead.

Alloran tilts his head in consideration, and then drops his tail.  «She can live.  If I’m to be stranded here the rest of my days by the Electorate’s ruling, then she can endure the same.  Killing the architect of this massacre would be folly.  If the virus mutates enough to jump hosts...»

Ax shudders from stalk-eyes to hooves at the thought.

«...then she’ll be best equipped to do something about it.»  A cruel smile creases the corners of Alloran’s eyes.  «Besides, I think it’s safest for all involved if she’s confined to a primitive planet like this one, kept well away from any technology she could use to incite further mischief.»  With that, he turns and disappears into the trees.

Ax and Estrid stare at each other for the long, silent moment that follows.  «Will it mutate?» Ax says at last.

«The odds are infinitesimal!» Estrid snaps.  «Otherwise I never would have —»

«Killed an entire species?» Ax suggests.  «Were you aware of the Yeerk Peace Movement?»

She snaps her tail dismissively.  «A handful of token resisters does not make up for an entire empire’s worth of evil, Aximili.  And the virus did the killing, not me.»

Ax stares at her for a very long time.  «I will not tell the humans about you, if the virus does not mutate,» he says at last.  «But I also don’t think I ever want to speak to you again, Estrid.  Goodbye, and be well.»

He thinks she calls after him.  He doesn’t answer, only runs faster and focuses harder on beginning to morph.

“No, leerans are the aquatic ones that read people’s minds,” Jake hears Tom say from downstairs.

“I thought you said that yeerks were aquatic and read minds,” his mom responds.

“No,” Tom says.  “I mean, yeah.  But yeerks swim around in kandrona or in brain juice.  Leerans swim around in oceans.”

“And they shapeshift?”

“Those are andalites.  Andalites are the morphers.  You remember Ax?  Ate an entire pie in one sitting while pretending to be Jake?  Andalite.”

“So Jake became an andalite?”

“No, an andalite became Jake.”

“I thought you said that was because a yeerk became Jake.”

“No, a yeerk was inside Jake’s body.  So they had an andalite pretend to be Jake.”

“While a yeerk was also pretending to be Jake?”

“I guess.  Look, Mom—”

“So this yeerk morphed Jake, and then—”

“No, the yeerk was inside Jake’s brain.  He had control of the original Jake.  And then Ax acquired Jake’s DNA, then became a copy of Jake.”

“And he controlled it?”

“Uh.  No?”

“But then... Tom, I thought you said that yeerk was controlling you.  Did it make a copy of you too?”

“What?  Nobody morphed me.  That I know of, anyway.  Yeerks can’t morph.”

“I thought you said humans can’t morph either.  Does that mean Jake’s an andalite because he can morph now?”

“No, he’s just an Animorph.”

“And that’s its own species?”

“Don’t I know it.  But no.  Animorphs are dumb kids in spandex.  Andalites are the ones with the tail blades.”

“Oh, and all the spiky horns?”

“No, those are hork-bajir.”

“Hork-bajir, like the aliens who attacked the Gardens that one time?”

“Those were yeerks that attacked the Gardens.  They were using hork-bajir as hosts, but it was a yeerk attack.”

“Because the yeerks acquired hork-bajir DNA?”

“Mom...”

Jake considers going downstairs to attempt a rescue mission.  Then he remembers Tom contributing almost nothing to the entire conversation where Jake explained the war to their parents, and decides against it.

When Jake and Marco walk out of school at the end of the day, Eva’s leaning casually against the hood of her car at the front of the pickup line.  She scans the lines of kids with studied nonchalance, carefully ignoring the frantic whispers of the clusters of parents who stare at her from their own patches of sidewalk.  Someone must have told the flock of reporters who she is, because six or seven of them are shouting questions at her from their side of the school fence.  She doesn’t appear to have noticed them.

But Jake knows enough about Marco’s knack for showmanship to know that he comes by it naturally.  He also knows Eva well enough to notice that she’s smirking just a little, underneath her impeccable makeup.  She’s just here to pick her kid up after school, and she’ll probably swear that on her own grave... but she’s enjoying herself as well.

The My Other Car is a Blade Ship bumper sticker on the back of her minivan is new.  As is her updo.

“Is she trying to embarrass me?” Marco groans.

He doesn’t fool Jake either.  Mostly because he’s grinning from ear to ear, and there’s a catch in his voice.  His mom is home.  His mom is home.

Drake Zahn is the only one who comments directly to Marco about how apparently his mom ran off with the pool boy and had to fake her own death just to cover up the scandal.  Actually, Drake gets halfway through a comment to that effect before there’s a resounding thud from three lockers down.  Tom Berenson has just dropped an eighty-pound weight on the locker room floor, and now props a foot against it as he watches them both with an expression of mildest curiosity.

Behind Tom stands a red-haired kid named Bill that Marco mostly only knows from Sharing recruitment posters.  Bill’s surrounded by a loose cluster of kids, some older, some younger.  Together, they represent a decent subset of the clique that people have taken to calling the Sharing pack, for lack of a better explanation for how they all started hanging out together.  Three months ago, Marco would’ve just referred to them as the controllers.

“Do you have a problem?” Bill asks quietly.

“What?”  Drake looks from one of the Sharing kids to the other.  They all look back at him, most terrifyingly blank-faced.  “No, no problem.”

“So you’re just being a dick, then,” Tom comments.

“I don’t...”  Again, Drake looks around at the circle of ex-hosts.  “I...”  He turns and leaves without another word.

After a second, so do most of the no-longer-controllers.  None of them acknowledge Marco directly.

“Dude,” Tobias says later, after telling Marco about an eerily similar incident.  “Did we, like, join the Sharing without meaning to?”

Marco shrugs elaborately.  “Man, I think the Sharing joined us.”

Cassie startles, hastily trying to wipe her cheeks, when someone wrenches open the door of the janitor’s closet and dives inside.  It’s too late; Tom has already slammed the door shut behind him and turned to see her.  Tear tracks and all.

“Oh, shit,” he says.  “Sorry, I didn’t realize.  Sorry, I...”  He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.  “Do you mind if I stay just for a second?”

Cassie wipes her eyes again.  “It’s okay,” she says hoarsely.  “It’s a mop closet, I think anyone can use it.”

Tom sighs in relief.  “Honestly I’m sorry to intrude.  I was hiding from Ms. Paloma, and I didn’t realize you even knew about this place.”

“Knew about... a closet?”  Cassie’s actually glad he’s here, even if she’s a little embarrassed to be caught crying.  It always helps to have someone else around, so that she doesn’t have to be alone with her own thoughts.

“Oh.”  Tom steps forward and shoves aside one of the rows of shelves in demonstration.  The secret door behind leads to a staircase that winds straight down into a very familiar-looking set of tunnels.  “That’s what I meant.  Better hiding place to cry in private than a closet.  Not that you have to, because you had the closet first.  But crying is healthy.  Or I guess feeling things is healthy?  And so if you want to go feel things, I can just... stay here.”

Cassie smiles.  “I don’t mind the company,” she tells him.  She accepts the awkward hand that he offers her, stepping down the first several stairs with him.  Tom shuts the door behind them.

By silent agreement they sit down on the stairs well before reaching the first bend of the staircase that might bring the main Yeerk Pool cavern into view.  

“Do you... want to talk about it?” Tom asks softly.

Cassie doesn’t say not to you of all people, because that’d be rude.  Instead she takes a stab at getting him to understand.  “I lost a friend,” she says carefully.  “In... everything that happened at the end of the war.”

“A... friend.  Ah.”  Of course he understands that she means a yeerk.  “Someone who... was helping your side?”

She’s grateful to him for trying.  “She was tired of the war, just like me.  She wanted out, like I did.  So she gave up on having a host ever again.  Because I asked it.  Because Karen — her host — needed it.  She, uh...”  Her voice breaks.  Dammit, here come the tears again.

Tom lets her cry for a while.  He digs around in his pockets, coming up with a crumpled napkin that he gives her.

Cassie sniffs into the napkin, trying not to dwell too hard.  “So why were you hiding from Ms. Paloma, anyway?”

Tom flushes.  And then he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a silvery flask.  “She saw, she’s pissed.”

“You were drinking alcohol in the middle of the school day?”  Cassie knows she sounds judgmental, but honestly.  Of all the stupid things her classmates do, that has always seemed to be near the top of the list for stupidest.

“What?  No.”  Tom unscrews the cap and hands it to her.

Maple-and-ginger instant oatmeal.  She recognizes the scent with visceral immediacy.

“Will that... make you impossible to infest?” Cassie asks.  She doesn’t say stupid things like all the yeerks are dead, because she’s wearing her morphing suit under her clothes right now for exactly the same kinds of reasons.

Tom tilts a hand in the air in a so-so gesture.  “It’d make me less attractive as a host, especially if I managed to down some in between...”  He gives a self-conscious little laugh.  “In between things going wrong and them going really wrong.  Anyway, it makes me feel better, that’s all.”

“Feeling things is healthy,” Cassie says, smiling.

“Yeah, which is why I’m going to keep hiding down here until Ms. Paloma gets distracted and then...”  Tom shrugs, laughing at himself again.  “Move counties, change my name, and fake my own death to avoid detention?”

“Let me know how that works out for—”

The hidden door at the top of the stairs scrapes open.  They both scramble to their feet, looking guiltier than they should.

Mr. Tidwell regards them both from the top of the stairs, expression very mild.

“I think I discovered the major weakness of this hiding place,” Tom whispers.

“The fact that half the faculty was controllers?” Cassie whispers back.

“Out, both of you.”  Mr. Tidwell rolls his eyes.  “Before the ceiling finishes collapsing and I have to fill out a novel’s worth of paperwork about your deaths.  And if I ever catch you down here again, I will be forced to remember that instant oatmeal does technically fit the definition of a controlled substance by the way the School Board defines banned materials.”

“Sorry,” Cassie says, as they file back out into the closet.

“Just don’t do it again,” Mr. Tidwell says, and she could swear he’s smiling a little.

Someone from the U.S. government calls Marco’s house, looking for a defense briefing.  Peter’s not sure if they want his son or his wife, but either way he politely assures the man that this is a wrong number.

“All right,” Marco calls even as he approaches Ax’s scoop.  “What is this ‘regrettable purchase,’ and why are you and Tobias begging me to help with it during a perfectly good Saturday?”

«Well,» Tobias snarks, «it’s not like you had plans or anything.»

“I, for your information, was right in the middle of helping my parents install a second anti-aircraft dracon beam on the roof of our house.”  Marco presses a hand over his chest.  “Ergo, I do have more important things to be doing right now.”

«Wouldn’t a second dracon beam be redundant?» Ax asks.

“My mom’s only installing a second one because of the hissy fit the homeowners’ association threw over the first one,” Marco explains.

«Wow,» Tobias drawls, «I can’t imagine what their objection would’ve been.»

“Anyway, why’d you frantically call me here in the middle of the day to demand my hard-earned...”

Ax has slid the computer around so that Marco can see the screen.

“Holy shit,” Marco breathes.  “Is that the real deal?”

«The picture is extremely poor quality due to the limitations of your human technology.»  Ax makes a very human hand-tilty motion.  «However, I can be approximately eighty-six percent certain that it is, indeed, a morphing cube.»

“And this guy ‘DavidCobraLord’ is just... selling it on Ebay.  For forty bucks.”  Marco sits down hard on the ground.  After a second, he grabs the computer and yanks it closer to himself.  “What is he, nuts?”

«Yeah,» Tobis says, «he could totally get fifty for that thing.»

«The question is, can you afford to purchase it?» Ax asks.

«We may have, slightly, placed a bid with funds we didn’t have,» Tobias says.  «And now Ebay’s being a butt about asking us to actually, y’know, pay up like we said we would.»

“Yeah, sure, I got it.  And just like that, we’ll have our very own morphing cube?”  Marco hears his voice rising and can’t even care.  “Damn.  Do we have to give it back to the andalites?”

«What the War Council doesn’t know will not hurt it,» Ax says darkly.

Tobias and Marco both stare at him.  He stares back at them both.

«We can keep it or dispose of it, as Prince Jake sees fit.»

«You okay, Ax-Man?» Tobias asks.

«I have been on Earth entirely too long,» Ax says.  «And yet, I find I am reluctant to leave.»

“So don’t.”  Marco pulls the computer close to him, setting his dad’s credit card on the keyboard to begin typing out numbers.  “Our door’s always open.  Go visit the folks at home, come back and visit us.  Don’t choose, and if anyone tries to make you then whack ‘em with your tail.”

«Yes,» Ax says solemnly.  «I believe I just might.»

“I heard about what you said to Tobias.”  Rachel shoves Devon up against the row of lockers, hard.  “You want to repeat it to my face, or do you want to keep being a wimpy little twerp about it?”

Devon holds up both hands, eyes wide.  “Get ahold of yourself, you psycho!”

“What did you call me?”  She leans in close, vision tunneling with rage.  “What did you just—”

Someone grabs her on the arm.  Rachel doesn’t think, just spins around and punches with all of her strength.

Cassie staggers back, clutching her nose.  There’s already blood starting to seep from between her fingers.

She and Rachel stare at each other in silence for a second.  When Cassie starts to say something, Rachel shoves roughly between her and Devon and storms off down the hallway.

She doesn’t even fully register the trip down the stairs and across to the main office, every muscle clenched tight like a fist.  Other bodies impact hers, and she keeps charging forward anyway.

When she reaches Chapman’s office, she shoves the door open so hard it bangs against the wall.

“Rachel?”  Chapman’s voice is carefully neutral.  He looks up from where he’d been in quiet conversation with the principal.  Registering Rachel’s expression, he moves just slightly to place himself between her and Ms. Walsh.  Which only steels Rachel’s resolve.

“I...”  Rachel breathes in, gathering courage.  “I think I need help.”

Chapman stands.  He exchanges a glance with Ms. Walsh, who steps out the side door into the front office.

“That doctor, that therapist of yours.”  Rachel tries to catch her breath.  She doesn’t know why this is scarier than facing down an army of yeerks, but she’s never let fear stop her.  “You said that I can talk to her?  That she’d understand?”

“She can try, anyway,” Chapman says.  “Dr. Irvine’s been holding an appointment slot for you since last month.  I can get you in this afternoon.”

Silent, throat tight, Rachel nods.

He picks up the phone.

It’s something, Rachel thinks.  It’s a start.

[atlasishere]

I Bake Sins Not Tragedies pt. 1

Characters: Logan, Virgil, Patton, Roman, Remus, Janus, Remy, Emile

Relationships: Analogical(eventually), Royality (in progress), Dukeceit(background), Remile(background)

Word Count: 7568 

A/N: I wrote most of this before the newest Sanders Sides video, so if Janus’ name is incorrect, sorry, let me know if it is.

Taglist: @normallyaspen @watchoutforthefanfics @superwholocked-for-life (if you wanna tagged when the next part is uploaded or whenever I write, let me know)

 Virgil “woke up” at 6:00, meaning that he snoozed his 6:00 alarm until 6:30 when he had to get up for work. He got up, put on his black jeans, purple shirt with long sleeves that would end up getting rolled up, and grabbed his hoodie. He walked into his kitchen and grabbed the pizza from about two nights ago and ate it cold. He put on his converse and walked to his bakery, arriving at 6:45 with just enough time to set up before his first customers walked in. He went through his day, making his baked goods, jamming to his emo music, eternally grateful to his brother, Patton, willingly helped him run his bakery. 

Logan woke up at 6:00 sharp, got dressed in jeans and a black short-sleeved polo, gelled his hair back, and ate a simple breakfast of cereal and eggs. He read a book until 7:30 when he left to go open the tattoo parlor he worked at. 

These two men lived their lives separately until one fateful day. Virgil had decided he wanted to get a new tattoo, something simple. He had considered getting something in remembrance of MCR but he already had one. He already had a flower for his dad, a Starbucks cup with sunglasses for his ren, and a blue heart with glasses for his brother. Along with that, he had some lyrics from “Na Na Na” by MCR. So Virgil went through the things that are important to him and decided to look up symbols for them. He had found a couple of ideas and sketched them. As he was doing this, he looked at his copy of Coraline on the bookshelf across from him, and inspiration hit. He sketched two black buttons and a spool of thread and called his brother out, “Yo, Patton. Come look at this tattoo idea.” 

Patton walked out, looked at it, said, “I like it, what’s the inspiration?”

“Coraline, the buttons were supposed to take her to this life of ‘happiness’ but it would have led to more pain and she discovered that her own life wasn’t as bad as she thought. It was all about her perspective,” Virgil shared, having clearly thought this through as he sketched it.

“I like it. Where would you put it, dear sibling?” Patton asked.

“Well, somewhere I would see it daily. Also, I use ‘they and he’ pronouns so no need to use sibling,” Virgil answered, “Heck if you wanted to use ‘she’ I wouldn’t complain. When I came out, I said I am indifferent to pronouns.”

“I know sib, but I like using the more neutral pronouns, a habit I picked up from Remy for a parental unit,” Patton countered. 

“Fair point, but with my fluctuating gender, it’s kinda pointless,” Virgil argued.

“Oh freaking well, deal with it,” Patton said, ending the argument, knowing that Virgil wasn’t irritated.

Virgil decided that he needed to put his stuff away and get back behind the counter and help his brother. 

A full day of baking, serving teens and college students, and cleaning up, Virgil walked home. As he did so, he was paying close attention to his surroundings, looking for tattoo parlors that he could look into. As he was walking, Virgil saw a sign for a tattoo parlor and decided to check it out. 

Logan heard the bell above the door of the tattoo parlor where he worked ring and looked up to see a man dressed in black jeans, a light purple top, and a patched hoodie. As the man approached, Logan decided to partake in his favorite activity, at least while at work, guessing their tattoo, he guessed it was probably song lyrics from one of those emo bands. It turns out that Logan would be pleasantly surprised. 

“Hi, I am new in town and looking for parlors to get this tattoo that I want. I was curious if you had any examples of some of the work that you guys do,” the man asked, with a deep, smooth voice that caught Logan off guard.

“We have several artists with different specialties, so it depends on what you want. Do you have a picture or sketch of what you want?” Logan asked, keeping it professional but giddy to figure out if he was right.

The man pulled out a square piece of paper and said, “It’s not super complex,” Logan stared at the spool of thread and black buttons as the man continued, “It’s based on the book “Coraline” by Neil Gaiman.”

So, Logan was wrong, “I mean most of us could do that but I like to think I am the most qualified.”

“Got any examples of your work?” the man asked cheekily.

Logan decided to get his best friend up here who happened to let Logan do all of his tattoos, “Roman get your lazy ass up here!”

“Lose again specs?” Roman asked as he got up.

The man looked confused and Logan decided to change the subject quickly and said, “Show this customer some of my work please.”

“If you wanted me shirtless, all you had to do was ask,” Roman countered as he removed his shirt to show the tattoos. There weren’t many but the ones appeared to be sentimental and detailed. 

“I may be pansexual, but I am not desperate,” Logan said, continuing the banter.

“Wow, rude, and in front of this fine young person too,” Roman said, pretending to be hurt.

“Well, they probably didn’t want to see your chest either, but you refuse to get them anywhere but your back and chest,” Logan countered, clearly noticing the way Roman had glanced at the bracelet on the customer’s wrist that said he/they. They looked surprised that someone had noticed that.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to ruin my wonderful arms or legs, Mr. Andy Hurley,” Roman said, attempting to defend his honor.

“I’ll take that as a compliment since Andy Harley is a very attractive man and I do enjoy a good amount of Fall Out Boy,” Logan countered.

Roman scoffed as Logan turned to the customer and said, “I guess I should introduce myself, formally. I am Logan Croft.”

The man smiled and shook Logan’s outstretched hand firmly as he replied, “I am Virgil.”

“I would like to apologize for my fiend, I mean friend, he gets quite excitable at times,” Logan said as he glared at his friend.

“Actually, I like your work and wouldn’t mind getting my tattoo here. May I make an appointment?” Virgil asked.

Logan looked astonished as he said, “Sure, when would you like to?”

“I don’t work until later on Saturday, would that work?” Virgil asked.

“Yes it will,” Logan answered.

Virgil nodded then gave a quick wave goodbye as he left. Logan watched the door close and turned his head to see Roman with that impish look he got. 

“You like him!” Roman shrieked.

“No, too soon to tell,” Logan said, “Also what happened to ‘they’?”

“His bracelet said, ‘He/They’. Also, if not yet, soon. I mean he’s cute so I understand but not my style,” Roman said, “I mean his brother’s pretty cute and comes to my pharmacy and I’ve had my eye on him for a bit.”

“You know his brother?” Logan asked.

“Well, they own that emo themed bakery up the street from the pharmacy where I work,” Roman shared.

Logan took Roman’s statement as food for thought as he left the parlor, waving at his coworker goodbye. He walked home and thought about the customer who had come in so close to the end of his shift. Logan didn’t necessarily believe in soulmates, fate, or chance since there was no scientific proof but he also had an emotional side and hope. Soon after he thought this, Logan’s logical side won over and said that there was no reason other than the obvious convenient coincidence. He entered his simple apartment, grateful that his roommates weren’t home. He started cooking dinner, which was almost finished as his roommates, Roman and his twin brother Remus, walked in. Roman had gone to get Remus since Roman had used their car to get to work so he had to drop off and pick up Remus. Roman’s job was farther out than Logan’s and Remus’ who couldn’t walk to work either. It was a weird set up but they shared a car since neither of them had the money for a second car. Logan didn’t have a car either, he was saving up his money to pay off his loans and hopefully to find a good job somewhere science-related. As the twins dropped their stuff off at the door, Remus was talking about his job at the zoo and the newest animal exhibit there. Logan looked at the very chaotic person who enjoyed handling the animals. His brother, however, was clearly ready to tell his own work story. To prevent a fight, Logan said, “Hey, set the table boys.”

“Okay mom,” Roman said, chuckling. Logan had learned that Roman and Remus thought of him as a motherly figure. 

They sat down for dinner as Roman talked about how his day at the pharmacy went, “Someone who was a regular, came in for their antidepressants and had said, please remember I am paraphrasing, ‘Do you have the potion that shall help me, O’ wise mage’ to which I said a simple yes. They responded with, ‘I thank thee, no curse shall leave my lips that will torment you’. They left the Walgreen’s and I realized that was fairly normal for me. Anyway, Logan, got any good stories besides that cute emo coming in?”

Logan would never admit this to anyone, but some blood rose to his neck as he responded, “No my day was normal, including the man from the bakery. However, I seem to remember something about a cute brother that works with him from you Roman.”

Remus snickered as he watched his two roommates who were definitely crushing pretty hard. He was glad that he was behind those days, having a boyfriend and all. 

That night, Virgil walked home to his apartment that he shared with his old college roommate, Janus, who was making spaghetti for their dinner that night. Virgil set the box on the table that held some “Hey Youngblood” thumbprint cookies from their bakery. Janus looked at the box, pointed a spatula at it as if to ask the contents. Virgil answered the unasked question, “Thumbprint cookies, made with Crofters. And no, I am not calling the cookies by their name because I say it enough at work.”

Janus smiled as he responded, “Well maybe you should reevaluate your decisions then.”

“How about no. I like my bakery as it is, I just kinda regret letting Pat choose the names for the baked goods. By the way, he hasn’t named everything on the menu,” Virgil confessed.

“Should you talk to him? Is it that big of a problem?” Janus asked, genuinely concerned for his friend.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that it gets a little annoying at times. His puns are super clever though so it’s honestly all good,” Virgil answered, truthfully, recognizing the look on their roommate’s face.

Janus nodded, believing his roommate, as he served the spaghetti. The two sat down to eat when they heard a knock at the door. Virgil got up and checked to see who it was, it was his brother Patton. Virgil opened the door to let him in and as soon as he crossed the threshold Patton exclaimed, “I fucked up real bad. I mean really bad.”

Virgil sighed, probably had to do with the cute pharmacist that stopped by their bakery. Not that Virgil could complain since he usually did the same with Patton but if it was the same person, Virgil thought he might scream. But before he could, Patton continued with his story. 

“So you know the pharmacist who comes in on occasion, well I was at the drugstore where he works and I was unaware that I was speaking with him. So I said, ‘I seek the cure to the darkness in my brain’ and he went through the normal stuff and I had to continue being normal so I responded with, ‘I thank thee, no curse of mine shall harm you’ and now I definitely ruined any chances with him.”

“Patton, I am sure that if he would’ve dated you, he would have been exposed to you and you’re, sometimes, eccentric qualities. I am sure everything will end up being okay,” Virgil said, attempting to comfort their brother. 

“And if it is necessary, I can and will murder,” Janus chimed in, unwelcomely.

“Says the lawyer who prosecutes murder cases,” Virgil quips while making the universal sign for shut the fuck up, the middle finger. 

Janus stayed quiet while Virgil worked on reassuring his brother. Eventually, Patton nodded and appeared to have calmed down. When Virgil invited him to stay for dinner, Patton had turned down the offer since he needed to head upstairs to talk to his roommate since he hadn’t been home.

Virgil sat down at the table with his roommate as Janus’ phone received a notification. Virgil could tell from the look on his friend’s face that it was Janus’ boyfriend texting him. 

“Share the news, Janus, I know you are dying to,” Virgil said as he looked at his plate of spaghetti.

The lawyer smiled as he said, “Well, Roman, the brother of Remus, has started an incorrect quotes blog that is just Remus quotes and conversations.”

Virgil laughed and said, “Can you get the URL, I need to know what this man you are dating is like because you never seem to bring him around.”

Janus texted Remus and got a response fairly quickly. After being told what it was, Virgil grabbed his laptop and looked it up. As he read through the posts and showed Janus a few, he asked, “Is this what he is always like?”

“Yeah, he has his moments of being calm or more chaotic, but this is his usual act,” Janus responded.

The two laughed for a bit at the quotes when Virgil said, “I think the guy that Patton is infatuated with is named Roman.”

“Oh yeah, it is. That is, in fact, the same Roman, and yes, he is also very infatuated with Patton apparently,” Janus responded as he put his phone away and began to eat.

Virgil pondered this new information for a bit and eventually, he began to think about the Roman he met in the tattoo parlor, which in turn, led to him thinking about the guy, Logan. Logically, Virgil knew that he wouldn’t see him after he got his tattoo but part of him was drawn to the man. 

Virgil remained lost in his thoughts until, being the absolute angel that he is, Janus smacked Virgil on the back of the head. Virgil was still jolting as he got out of his chair, ready to fight Janus, and like two siblings fighting over the remote, they both ended up on the ground wrestling. 

After a few minutes of fighting, Janus finally asks, “So what was on your mind?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking,” Virgil said.

“Uh-huh, sure, I think it’s because you have a crush,” Janus teased as he watched his friend attempt to stutter out a response.

Finally able to speak clearly, Virgil said, "Actually, it's not. I was thinking about that tattoo I wanted to get." Virgil hoped that Janus would buy his half-lie and not see the nervous tapping or blood flowing up to his neck.

Janus knew Virgil wasn’t being completely honest, he ate the lies of criminals for breakfast, but he could also read the room and knew this was not the time, so he dropped it. Finally, at ease, Virgil continued their conversation and the two talked until it was close to 10:00.

On Saturday morning, Virgil made sure that their brother had someone to work with him during the day until Virgil was done at the parlor. Since it was confirmed, Virgil got up and dressed in a tank top and open flannel, aware that he would need a looser item of clothing on top of his tattoo. Virgil ate breakfast, left his house, and started towards the tattoo parlor. 

Once they entered, Logan looked up to see who was at the door. His heart was hoping for Virgil and his head was telling him that it shouldn't matter. But it was Virgil and a war started inside of him. His head won, which was smart since Logan would be doing permanent needlepoint on their skin. 

Logan took them back and prepped the needle and Virgil's skin. 

As the needle was buzzing, Virgil appeared to be scrolling Tumblr on their phone as Logan did his job. He tried to refrain from paying attention to Virgil's muscle mass and focused on the project.

After several hours, Logan finished the tattoo and gave Virgil the care instructions. They waved as they left the parlor and headed to their bakery.

Virgil walked into his bakery and was bombarded with questions from their brother. "How did it go? Do you like it? Are you feeling okay?"

Virgil held up their hand and said, "It went well considering I got needlepoint on my skin, I haven't looked since it's on my shoulder, and yes I am okay."

Suddenly Virgil was being dragged to a bathroom by his brother so he could see it as well as Patton. 

Once inside, the light was turned on and Virgil slipped the flannel off of his shoulder. The tattoo looked really good and Virgil was impressed. They walked out of the bathroom, brother in tow, put his uniform on, and washed his hands. 

Throughout the day, the bakery had a steady stream of customers who enjoyed the food, puns, and music. Near the end of the day, Virgil was surprised to see Logan, the tattoo artist, walk through the door. He walked up to the counter as he appeared to scan the menu. As he arrived at the counter, Virgil gave his standard, “Hello, Welcome to I Bake Sins, not Tragedies, How can I help you today?”

Logan smirked and asked, “What are the ‘Hey Youngblood’ cookies?”

“Well, they are a jam thumbprint cookie filled with Crofter’s jam, we have strawberry and blackberry jam,” Virgil answered, trying to use his customer voice he had picked up over the years of working in the real world. 

Logan nodded then said, “Could I please have a ‘Hey Youngblood’ cookie then and a coffee.”

Virgil nodded, took Logan’s money, made his change, and began preparing his order. It wasn’t complex, the cookies had been baked recently and coffee was in a pot, so it took but five minutes to complete. As he brought it out to Logan, he gestured to where the cream and sugar were kept for their customers to use on their own. They had found it to be more convenient and easier. Virgil watched as Logan found a seat at a table and pulled a book from the shelf behind him. Virgil continued to work and serve customers for a while when he noticed that Logan had left, it wasn’t a problem since he had figured where the mugs needed to be returned, but part of Virgil was upset nonetheless.

Logan walked out of the bakery and walked back to the parlor. The bakery was very nice, the music was loud enough to be heard but wasn’t disruptive, their food was very good and Logan desired to find this Crofter’s jam, there was a good selection of books for the customers to read as they sat down, and the aesthetic was less dark but still held to the inspiration. Logan found himself enjoying the Fall Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco puns on the food. He definitely was adding the place to his list of good places to eat at. He conveniently was skipping over the cute enby at the register. That can of worms was not going to be opened. He entered the parlor and saw that Roman was there. “Hey, Eliot, can you take out the trash?” Logan said, gesturing to Roman.

The man at the front desk, Eliot, smiled, and said, “Sorry, I thought that was your job.”

Logan smirked and responded, “Oh yeah, It is.” 

As Logan started to meander towards Roman, the pharmacist definitely looked a little fearful as Logan chuckled, "I was joking with you Roman."

"I am well aware, Specs but it wasn't very nice. Just thought that you confused me for Remus," Roman responded, trying to save his dignity.

"What a vibe check Roman," Logan said, aware the slang was incorrect but also had stopped trying with slang. Roman's face made it worth the lack of education Logan had.

"A what now?!?!? That is so wrong. I really can't believe you just said that " Roman exclaimed, continuing to rant about how Logan doesn't know slang.

Logan chuckled as he watched his friend continue to passionately rant about something as trivial as slang.   

The next week went by fairly routinely for the group. Logan worked at the parlor and occasionally stopped by the bakery with the attractive emo worker, Virgil would work and occasionally see the cute tattoo artist, Patton worked with brother and would attempt and fail to keep it together when a certain pharmacist would come in every day, and Roman would continue his daily routine of stopping in to get breakfast and see the adorable baker. Somewhere in the course of the week, Roman had slipped Patton his phone number, platonically, of course, and that sparked a conversation and eventually friendship between the two.

Virgil and Logan did not interact that much but were slowly becoming comfortable with each other’s presence. They would have a casual conversation when Logan would come in and on occasion, Logan would happen to ask about books that Virgil had. They kinda wanted to talk to Logan more, but it’s kinda hard when a guy comes in right at the time that high school students get out of school. 

But that week was done and the weekend was bringing a special surprise, the arrival of Virgil and Patton’s parents. 

It was Friday night, a mere twenty minutes before closing and the bakery was empty. Virgil and Patton had a little bit of extra bread dough from the day. It was only about the size of a fist and well, Virgil had technically started it. He had tossed it and ended up throwing it at his brother. Patton received the dough splat on the back of his head and turned to see his sheepish sibling looking incredibly nervous. Patton smiled and tossed it back to him. Virgil caught it and chuckled. The game slowly got bigger as Virgil and Patton ended up outside the kitchen and in the main area. They continued for a few more minutes when suddenly the doors opened and in walked Emile and Remy, the parents of the two bakers. 

And like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, they froze and went to finger-pointing. Emile chuckled and held his hands up and Patton tossed the ball to his dad. 

“Think fast dear,” Emile told his partner as he threw the dough to Remy.

Remy caught the dough and smiled. They tossed it to their child and the game continued for a few more minutes until some late-night closer customers came in.

“C’mon, I need to see Patton and you wouldn’t mind seeing Virgil. Their bakery doesn’t close for a  whole 15 minutes,” Roman whined.

“I am aware and no I wouldn’t mind but it is late. One of us needs to be the voice of reason here,” Logan said, not wanting to admit how much he kind of wanted to see a particular baker.

“There is no reason not to,” Roman argued.

Logan would blame it on the fact that he was tired and not because he was giving in to the want to see someone who may not even be attracted to men as he acquiesced to Roman’s request, “Fine, Roman. Let me grab my jacket and we can walk there since Remus took the car when he dropped you off.”

The two walked to the bakery. When they arrived, they saw four people tossing something and smiling. Logan assumed they were laughing. As he looked, he saw Virgil and from the look on Roman’s face, could assume that Patton was in there as well. However, Logan felt a little preoccupied with Virgil and their existence. Their face was a little flushed and they were smiling as they threw what appeared to be bread dough. 

Eventually, Logan snapped out of his trance and realized that he was definitely gay for this nonbinary emo baker. He also made the snap decision that the other two, older, adults were likely family. Logan was going to tap Roman on the shoulder and tell him that they should just head home, but, Roman’s hand was on the doorknob and was opening the door. 

Well, Logan would argue that he had to join his friend and walked in. He was greeted with what was becoming a familiar scent of baked bread and an earthy scent that was likely from an air freshener. He felt bad for interrupting the family time that was happening, but the look of surprise and happiness on Virgil’s face almost, keyword almost, took away his anxiety. Virgil hopped behind the counter and asked what they wanted.

“Could I have a ‘Hey Youngblood’ cookie and a loaf of bread?” Logan asked and gestured for Roman to step up and order.

“Could I have some ‘Pretty Odd Macarons’?” Roman asked.

Virgil nodded, rang up the order, and began to get the food. While Virgil was doing that, Patton had approached Roman and the two began talking. 

Virgil handed him the bag and Logan just had to open his mouth and ask, “So, uh, who are these lovely people?” He was nervous and apparently he cannot control his mouth around cute people.

Virgil looked at Remy, who nodded, before responding. “Well, my ren would probably appreciate that you didn’t say men as they are nonbinary and their name is Remy,” Virgil said as he gestured to the person with a leather jacket and sunglasses, “And the other man is my dad, Emile,” Virgil answered as he gestured to the man in a suit with a cardigan and glasses. 

Then Virgil gestured to Logan and said, “This is my friend Logan. Just so everyone knows everyone.”

Logan could feel the blood rushing to his neck and shuffled his feet as he waved. 

Roman smiled and introduced himself, looked at the clock and realized that it was pretty late, and turned to Patton to say goodbye.

Logan turned to Virgil and said, “We need to get back to our apartment and make sure that Remus hasn’t burned it down. He has been at the house alone for around three hours and is pretty chaotic. It was nice seeing you, goodbye.’

Virgil chuckled and said, “It was nice seeing you, Logan. Feel free to drop by anytime.”

Logan looked down at the floor to hide the red that was creeping up his neck and towards his face and grabbed his friend to drag him home. 

Logan was at the front door of his apartment and Roman was still whining like a child. The two walked in and were greeted with Remus and his questioning looks. Logan began to share the story.

Virgil waved to Logan and Roman as they left and looked at his watch to see that it was closing time. They waved Patton over to help finish tidying up and gather the baked goods off the shelf and put them in a box.

As the siblings were working, Remy was holding the dough ball and tossing it between their hands. They could tell their husband was proud of their sons but also incredibly curious, like Remy, about the two men who had come in at closing. Their husband looked at them and Remy knew they were the bolder of the two so he asked, “Who were those two?”

Virgil happened to be at the counter at the moment so he said, “Well Roman is Patton’s admirer and Logan is a new friend as well as the guy who did my newest tattoo.”

Patton happened to hear from the kitchen so he piped up and said, “Actually, Roman doesn’t like me but I think Logan likes Virgil.”

This led to an argument. Emile looked at his spouse and moved to stand next to him. “How much do you wanna bet that both of our children are in love and their respective man also loves them?”

Remy chuckled and said, “While I normally don’t condone on gambling, I can make an exception for our oblivious children. I say it takes the rest of the month.” It was, conveniently, at the beginning of the month.

Emile smiled and said, “I think I will go with the month after.” The two lovers shook hands and looked at the children they had raised.

Virgil and Patton had stopped their bickering and were deciding who would take what was left from the day to the homeless shelter.

When Virgil and Patton decided to buy I Bake Sins, not Tragedies, the two decided that they should donate what food was left from the day to a local homeless shelter that was LGBTQ+ friendly and nonprofit. They had found one thanks to the size of the city they lived in.

Patton decided to take that day and texted his roommate, Thomas, that he would be home later.

Virgil asked his parents who they wanted to stay with that night since Patton and Virgil both had a space prepared for them when they had heard their parents say they wanted to visit.

The two looked at each other and Remy said, “Mind if we stay with you? I haven’t talked to Janus in a while and Emile looks so tired that walking up more stairs than necessary may cause him to pass out.” Remy chuckled as their husband smacked them. 

Virgil nodded and texted their roommate that they would have two guests tonight.

After the siblings finished cleaning and closing up, Virgil walked out to their parent’s car and asked if he could ride to the apartment complex with them.

Remy appeared to consider it before letting him in. The three drove to Virgil’s apartment and decided to not stay up too late.

The next morning was one of chaos. Janus had a big trial at noon that day, Remy and Emile were going to spend their morning walking around the city and the afternoon in the bakery. Virgil’s anxiety was skyrocketing at the thought of something bad happening and was ready to punch something. 

Having woken up earlier than usual, Virgil had the chance to run around the block before getting ready to work. So, he ran. They knew they needed to run to get the nerves under control and they would have the chance to work with dough all day which helps with the aggression aspect of his anxiety. 

After Virgil’s quick run, he went to his apartment, showered off, and put his standard dark clothing and hoodie on. Virgil walked to the bakery in record time and had enough time to put his apron on and help his brother pull the tray out of the oven. Patton had come in early to bake since he was a morning person but Virgil and Patton often alternated each week for who would come in earlier to get the first round in the ovens.

Patton decided to man the register while Virgil took over baking for the morning shift.

The brothers worked nonstop until 11:30, which was standard for Saturdays and enjoyed the break they would receive until the late lunch rush. During this time, Janus stopped in to grab a Danger Days Donut and coffee.

The rest of the morning passed without event and Virgil had decided to take a 10-minute break to go and get their anxiety medication from the pharmacy. Waving to Patton, Virgil walked down the street to the nearest Walgreens and back to the pharmacy. When he arrived, he saw a familiar face, the face of Roman. Roman looked up and saw Virgil as he was about to ask for a name. “Hey, Virgil, I am afraid I will need a last name, for protocol, of course.”

Virgil chuckled and said, “Picani, also I was not expecting you to know it. I was not expecting you to work here, in fact.”

Roman chuckled and said, “I’ve served your brother but I am surprised he hasn’t spoken of me.” Roman pulled Virgil’s medicine off the shelf and handed it to him. 

Virgil took the medicine as he made an offhand comment about thinking that his brother was speaking of another Roman, despite the fact that Virgil was fully aware his brother was very taken by Roman.

The two bantered for another minute before Virgil left and headed back to his bakery.

Virgil walked back in and saw Logan at a table near the bookshelves in the back. 

Patton saw them walk in and gave him a thumbs up so Virgil set their prescription in the back and went out to the bookshelves to talk to Logan. Virgil wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk to the tattoo artist, all he knew was there was something drawing him to Logan. 

Logan felt something tap his shoulder and tensed up a bit, startled but when he turned around, he was pleasantly surprised. Logan did not expect to see Virgil out of the back.

“Looking for a book to read?” Virgil asked.

Logan wasn’t but he wanted to hear Virgil talk about something he liked so he said, “I am actually.”

Maybe Virgil knew Logan was lying but if they did, they humored Logan, “Well, I don’t know if you have read ‘Coraline’ but that is a good one, I mean I based a tattoo off of it. But if you want something less creepy, ‘Good Omens’ by Neil Gaiman is also very good. Want out of the fantasy realm and more science fiction, we have many Douglass Adams novels.”

Logan nodded and decided to find Coraline to read. He had not read the story but had heard good things about it. 

Virgil continued to work for the next hour, making his supply for the evening and later night coffee dates, occasionally checking on Logan. Once or twice Virgil would catch themself staring and have to shake themself from their trance. Virgil was realistic, they weren't in a super-wealthy occupation and weren't the most attractive person out there, heck they had heterochromia. The left eye is green and his right is brown, he just wears a colored contact so they both look brown. Virgil was okay with their appearance but wore the contact because he preferred to assuage the questions and because he used to get bullied for it. They also were aware that it was likely an infatuation and would fade quickly.

At some point in the day, Virgil's parents had also snuck into the store and appeared to be snacking on the rejects near the back. Those two were watching their child's potential future boyfriend with interest. 

And for an hour, it was a blissful quiet. Soon after Logan settled with his book, Virgil traded with Patton to start preparing for the evening and post date bakery visitors. It was mostly making the dough and letting it rise. At one point, Virgil went out to sit with their parents and catch up. After a bit, Virgil relieved Patton of register duty and sat on the stool, sketching.

Virgil wasn’t really a great drawer but he liked to do it nonetheless, it was a relaxing activity. So, with quieter Fall Out Boy playing, Virgil drew, Logan read, Emile and Remy gossiped with Patton, and all was right with the world. Sadly, Logan’s phone decided to disrupt the peace to remind Logan that he had a job. Logan sighed and decided to go to the front counter. Virgil was sketching what appeared to be a beach and Logan hated to disrupt them but he was on a time crunch. “Hey, Virgil,” Logan started, with a softer tone as to not startle the quieter goth, “I was wondering if you could hold onto this book for me to come back in and finish. I am really enjoying it but I have to get to work.”

Virgil looked up, not startled but surprised. He heard Logan’s request and kinda wanted to chuckle because Logan hadn’t thought to ask if he could borrow the book, but Virgil could respect his wish and said, “Absolutely my dude, it is not a problem.” Virgil took the book from Logan and their hands brushed against each other briefly and Virgil was fighting the urge to blush. Logan nodded and fumbled out a goodbye as he backed out, subsequently running into a table, on his way out. Virgil chuckled and tried to convince himself that he didn’t offer to let Logan borrow the book because Virgil wanted Logan to visit again. It took the rest of the day to convince himself of this fact.

Near the end of the day, around what is normally dinner time, Roman busted through the doors and startled Patton. Virgil had left with Remy to grab dinner for the rest of his family and Patton and Emile were left to watch over the bakery. Well, Emile was sitting in his back corner while Patton watched the register and decided if there needed to be more sale goods made or if Virgil should mix dough to bake tomorrow. It was quiet and Patton was a little restless. So Roman’s impromptu entrance was actually appreciated by Patton while Virgil would have scowled. Roman walked up to the front register and put on his blindingly charming smile and Patton couldn’t help but giggle like a girl whose crush just shared that they like someone.

Roman continued walking in and walked to the back where Emile was sitting, which confused Patton. Roman cleared his throat and said, “Hello, my name is Roman. I believe we met last night.”

Emile was a little charmed and smiled as he responded, “Why yes we did.” Emile could also tell the boy was nervous, he kept shuffling his feet and wiping his hands on his pants.

Roman took a second to try to calm down and ask his question. “I was wondering if I could have your permission to take your son, Patton, on a date.” Now Patton was listening by this point and had to keep from gasping in surprise.

Emile smiled and said, “Well, Patton is an adult so you really don’t have to ask me, but if he is fine with it, so am I. I am close to certain my spouse will agree with me and I admire that you asked me but I think the one you really need to ask is by the kitchen door.”

Roman smiled and turned to see Patton peeping and eavesdropping. “Well, Patton, would you like to go on a date with me Friday night?”

Like a deer in headlights, Patton froze before finding his voice to say, “Yes I will.”

Roman smiled and went to hug Patton when the bell above the entrance rang out. Patton rushed out to the front to see if it was a customer, but instead, it was the rest of his family.

Virgil went behind the counter and handed Patton the food they had gotten him and when he finally looked at his brother, Virgil saw his brother’s face lit up with joy, and Virgil knew he was going to be in for a gossip session.

The family ate dinner, with the brothers behind the counter and the parents at a close table. The night finished routinely, with Virgil and Patton cleaning up and Virgil gathering the leftovers for the local shelter. Remy and Emile were staying with Patton that night and Virgil was going to head home afterward.

Virgil was walking back home after visiting the shelter. He was deep in thought when he ran into someone, quite literally. That, someone, happened to be very fit. Logan was that someone. Virgil was quite surprised since he didn’t see Logan outside of the tattoo shop and bakery, but Virgil was not able to form a sentence because the gay part of his brain just went berserk. As previously mentioned, Logan is fit and has a good deal of muscle mass. Virgil also literally ran into him and fell on the ground. So, the anxious, disaster gay was looking for an escape, because flight was his activated instinct. As his eyes scanned the paths of escape, Logan began to speak, “Hey, Virgil. I was not expecting to see you out tonight.”

Somewhere in the anxious fog of his brain, Virgil knew he needed to respond, so he did, “Uh, yeah. Same here. I was dropping some food donations off to the homeless shelter that specifies in helping queer people.”

Logan looked surprised. Then Virgil realized that not everyone uses queer in a friendly sense so he began to explain. “Oh, yeah, I say queer because I believe that some terms need reclaiming and it is a valid label. I, myself, identify as queer.”

Virgil continued to ramble when Logan interrupted, “Virgil, breathe. I was not offended by the use of queer, I like that some are reclaiming it. I didn’t know you donated food to the local homeless shelter, that’s why I looked surprised.”

Virgil breathed, counting so they could calm down. As they calmed down, Logan realized that Virgil was definitely on the verge of a panic attack. So once Virgil had calmed down, Logan offered to walk Virgil to their apartment. Virgil was still a little shaky and agreed. 

The two walked to Virgil's apartment complex and talked. Virgil learned that Logan was a big science nerd and that he liked to misuse slang specifically to annoy Roman. Logan learned that Virgil had always been passionate about baking and that he hadn’t actually found emo music until he was a college student. Those were simple facts and only broad details, however, it brought new depth to their relationship. 

Logan walked Virgil to his front door and waved goodbye as Virgil walked inside. Virgil walked into their apartment, gave a two-fingered salute to Logan (who gave a small wave goodbye), and watched Logan walk away as he closed the door.

“What was that?” Janus asked accusingly.

“Oh, I ran into Logan on my walk home and he offered to walk me home.” Virgil divulged.

“You mean The Logan Croft? The Logan Croft with eyes that are like golden brown honey? With hair that looks like a dark chocolate mousse? By the way, why do you describe him using bakery type foods?” Janus asked, teasing Virgil.

“Yeah, we had a nice conversation on the way home,” Virgil said, baiting Janus with a fishhook of information.

“I think that we need to have a gossip night again, so I will be making the popcorn, you get the drinks,” Janus said, bluntly and full of curiosity.

Virgil chuckled, glad Janus caught the bait. He got up and started to make the hot cocoa, ready to share every detail of the night.

Logan continued walking, tired and happy, indescribably happy. He could definitely try, he knew words, but Virgil elicited a special kind of reaction that he could never begin to decipher. Logan was happy and if he thought about it, maybe he was falling in love. 

Logan was able to make it home safely in his dazed state, and when he got home, he walked into his apartment. He closed the front door and just leaned against the back of the door. Remus happened to hear the door close and looked to see where Logan was. He saw Logan in his starstruck state and felt the need to hopelessly tease rise up in him. “Logan’s got a boyfriend, Logan’s got a boyfriend. Gonna finally get f-,” Remus singsonged until he got cut off.

“Alright, that’s enough. Firstly, I am pan, could easily be a girl or a nonbinary person. Secondly, if you are referring to Virgil, they use they/them and may not want to be referred to as a boyfriend. Thirdly, They likely don’t feel the same,” Logan said, sobering up.

Remus realized that Logan was definitely sensitive about the subject. So, he called Roman into the living room, grabbed some blankets, set a movie up, and went to make cocoa. Tonight was going to be a comfortable gossip night. He texted Janus, saying he may be a bit slow on responding because Logan needed to be listened to.

Both groups had a gossip night, though one was more lighthearted and the other was more of a rant session, both parties ended up feeling more satisfied with how they felt and hopeful that their feelings were reciprocated.

To Be Continued

Hi. This is my birthday gift to myself because I'm now an adult legally and I can do what I want.

[seaofghouls]

DUCKTALES OC INSERT

Ep 1: Woo-oo! A seagull flew from ship to ship, being chased off my fishers on the sea, until it landed on a specific white boat, being scared off by commotion inside the house. "Come on, hold still Uncle Donald!" Louie yelled, yanking his sailor uniform off as Donald squawked. "Good morning, Uncle Donald!" Huey said, cooking breakfast. "Hey, Uncle D." Valentine waved. "You can't wear this to your job interview." Louie put his uniform into the washer. "My uniform!" Donald cried as it caught on fire. "You gotta dress for the job you want. Not the job you have, which is no job." Louie said, holding up a suit. "That's true." The young adult standing next to him said. "Yeah, take it from the 18 year old." Louie said. "Huey, don't touch the stove. You'll get hurt." Donald scolded. "But it's a big day! And a big day calls for a big breakfast." Huey said. Huey held out a plate full of food to Donald as it seemed to deflate. "...Egh." Valentine groaned. "I'll get the iron!" Huey called out. Pulling the table out, it hit Donald in the head. "Stop helping me! Put on your life vests! What if the boat goes down while the babysitters here?" Donald scolded.

"Yes, Uncle Donald." The three of them sighed. "Why do we have to have a babysitter? I'm technically an adult!" Valentine argued. "I don't trust you enough to not burn the boat down." Donald said. "Fair enough." Valentine shrugged. "Where is that babysitter?" Donald grumbled. He called up the babysitter. "Well, what time can you get here?!" Donald groaned. The other caller hung up. "Where am I gonna find another babysitter at 10:00?!" Donald sighed. "10:00?! You gotta go!" The three ducks cried. Huey put the suit on Donald and the two triplets shoved Donald out the door. "Kids, I can't just leave you!" Donald said. "We can survive for a couple hours." Louie said. "A couple of hours.." Donald mumbled. "Well, okay, but just keep those life vests on." Donald said, walking away. Then the boat started. "What is that?" Valentine wondered. "Where's Dewey?" Donald sighed. "Sleeping." "Who's Dewey?" "Where is that little squirt, anyways..?"

Donald stormed back into the boat before coming out with Dewey and picking up the other two boys. "Val, in the car." He said. "You got it, Uncle D." She saluted. The triplets argued in the back of the car and Valentine sighed.

Donald typed a location into the GPS. "Destination: Mcduck Manor." "..Mcduck?" Valentine's eyes widened. "Mcduck Manor?! As in Scrooge Mcduck?!" Huey gasped. "The bajillionare?!" Dewey exclaimed. "You're finally gonna sell us." Louie said.

"I'm not gonna sell- He owes me." Donald sighed. The triplets started ranting about how awesome he is while Valentine slumped back in their seat. "You alright, Valentine?" Donald frowned. "The last time I saw him, I was like 7 or 8, and I never knew why I never saw him again. I just knew it had something to do with Mom. ..I'm scared, I guess." Valentine sighed.

"It's only for a couple of hours. We always have the boat, you'll be fine, alright?" Donald tried to reassure him. "Okay, Uncle D." Valentine gave a small smile. After a while, they pulled up in front of the manor as a car from behind honked at them.

Donald walked out of the car to meet Scrooge. "Donald Duck." Scrooge narrowed his eyes. "Uncle Scrooge." Donald narrowed his eyes. The triplets were freaking out while Valentine just twiddled her fingers. "So.. you're looking good." Donald said. "Still living on that boat?" Scrooge questioned. "Yep. Still a trillionare?" Donald asked.

They started arguing and Valentine sighed. The triplets looked out the window in awe. "Come on, kids." Donald said. The four of them got out of the car. "Huey, Louie, Dewey, meet Scrooge Mcduck. Val, you already know Scrooge. Remember, no tricks, no lies, no trouble." Donald said. "Yes, Uncle Donald." The four of them said.

"I wasn't talking to you." Donald narrowed his eyes at Scrooge. Donald left and Ms. Beakley let them in. The triplets followed Scrooge around, but Valentine wasn't that interested. "Hi, Ms. Beakley. It's been a while." She smiled. "Hello, dear. You've grown quite a bit." Beakley smiled back.

The kids sat down at the table and Valentine sighed, pulling out their phone, feeling awkward. "Talk to them." Beakley whispered to Scrooge. Scrooge groaned and kept reading his newspaper. The triplets were right next to him at that point. "So.. do children still like marbles.. or..?" He trailed off. The triplets loaded him with questions.

"Are you really our uncle?!" "How old are you?!" "What's your net worth?!" Valentine shut off her phone and laid their head down on the table. "What's the deal with you and Uncle Donald?!" "Oh, is this fork real silver? Can I have it?!" "How come you never visit?!"

"Because you're so old and moving is so hard?!" "You owe us, like, a LOT of birthday presents!" "You used to be a big deal! Whatever happened to you?!" "Beakley!" Scrooge called out. "I'll take care of it." She said, leading the boys off into a different area of the manor.

Scrooge looked back over at Valentine. He frowned, looking at them. He was their main parental figure until he and Donald cut off contact for 11 years. "So.. how have you been, lass?" He asked. "Okay, I guess. I've been looking for a job as a scientist, no luck though." She said. Scrooge hummed. "Well.. feel free to do whatever.. I've got some things to take care of." Scrooge said.

Valentine nodded. Scrooge walked off. Valentine sighed, thinking about what it was like before. They were a happy family. Now, things were different. ... "Ugh.. I gotta text Drake. He'll entertain me.. heh." Valentine laughed. The house shook. "What is that?!" Valentine cried.

They ran outside, seeing Scrooge being carried away on a golden dragon. "Oh my." They saw the triplets and Webby. "What the heck is going on?!" Valentine cried. "Get on the plane, big sib!" Dewey said. "Uh.. alright then." She went along with it.

As they were flying, they saw Scrooge falling off of the dragon. "Open the door!" Valentine ordered. The group grabbed hands to reach Scrooge and pull him in the plane. "Webby, how do we stop it?" Dewey asked. "It's mystical, so we'll need a mystical device. Like an oblivion mirror or a medusa gauntlet.. or.." Webby listed. "Like this?" Louie waved the medusa gauntlet. Webby and Huey glared at Louie.

"What? I was gonna give it back." Louie defended. The group devised a plan to use the gauntlet on the dragon. "Open the door, Pilot!" Valentine called out. Scrooge got hold of the dragon and it turned to stone, launching Scrooge up into the air. "Scrooge!" They gasped. He landed in the Money Bin and was fine. "Woo!" "Yeah!" "I knew it!"

"Family truly is the greatest- Oh no the ground!" ... "In the short time I've known you, you've wrecked my home and my money bin, unleashed ancient evils, and almost got me killed twice!" Scrooge scolded the 5 ducks. "Four times if you count each monster as an individual time." Huey corrected.

Scrooge laughed. "That was incredible! When you pulled me into the airplane and who would've thought of a medusa gauntlet? Brilliant! Oh, and you swung me out just in time! You kids are nothing but trouble! Curse me kilts, have I missed trouble. I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on you to teach you how to get into trouble properly." Scrooge ranted. "Beakley! Clear my schedule. I'm taking the wee ones on a field trip." Scrooge said into his phone.

"About time, and once again, I am not your-" Scrooge hung up before she could finish. "Now! Let's go find the lost city of Atlantis." Scrooge grinned. They cheered. "And no one tell your Uncle Donald!" "Yeah!" They all cheered again.

---

[dykehaus]

Chromatica first listen reactions

Chromatica 1 - Orchestral opening, very cinematic like she threw a Hans Zimmer wig in the ring here for apparently no reason other than to maybe suggest a video game/scifi movie opening? I’m getting opening credits to a Square Enix game circa 2005 so. I’m good with it.

Alice - MY NAME. ISN’T ALICE. Straight into the dance beats… yes god. Verses may be forgettable and the lyrics/conceit of the song isn’t that interesting but I’m really loving the chorus sound and the modulated voice in the bridge - Judas teas!! Other than the bridge, kinda filler? Remains to be seen on second listen.

Stupid Love - I didn’t love this when it leaked or was officially released. I almost let the dumb video sour the potential of it. Is it the greatest song here? No it’s just as dumb as its video. But it’s actually more enjoyable when you just accept that it’s dumb and don’t try to fight against it. It’s got some crisp BTW B-side sounding production and corniness to it and we can get behind that! After school special pop. Not sorry, I’ll listen to Stupid Love.

Rain on Me - Has gay sex in public while this plays. Someone meanwhile smokes a cigarette in a Brooklyn warehouse and sips a matcha cocktail. Next.

Free Woman - KNOCK OUT in my opinion. Like an upbeat So Happy I Could Die I would argue… Also might be one of the lezzier items on offer here. Which is among my priorities in listening to any Lady Gaga output. You really get the texture of her vocals here and Gaga’s voice is one of her real selling points. There are no girls who make this kind of music that have her intonation. Periodt. I’m a Free Wuhman!

Fun Tonight - Is this the ballad? It’s not a ballad. It’s a dance song. But it has Gypsy from ARTPOP vibes. The Gaga equivalent of a torch song. This is the song you put on when you’re having a little early 00s white girl in a romcom sad montage moment and there’s certainly a time and place for that! This is definitely about Christian and for that reason I wish it were angrier lmao. (Fuck him)

Chromatica II - More moody strings! I definitely get more of a video game feel from this than cinematic necessarily. Feels like an album version of a cut scene.

911 - Heavy bass! Chanting robot voice! Would’ve given myself a wettie through the car speakers with this if I were still driving on the regular. This vocal is of kin with Madonna’s on Madame X. The lyrics here are GARBAGE  but it might get the Heavy Metal Lover treatment where I’ll eventually love every bit of it.

Plastic Doll - This is Barbie Girl but played straight. Right now I don’t love that but given enough to drink I will think it’s transcendent art. She rhymed ‘saga’ and ‘gaga’! Someone will inevitably perform a genderqueer drag act to this.

Sour Candy - I don’t pretend to know actually anything about Kpop. Their presence here gives me unrelenting early 00s vibes. Is that a big reference point for Kpop groups? I have no idea. I think this one might have real commercial value considering the crossover event of it all. The production here is really just. fine. Capable. But I LOVE the Gaga vocal!! My favorite other than Free Woman thus far.

Enigma - She put some effort into the lyrics here! Thanks G! Killer, signature soaring Gaga chorus. The enigma thing is technically self promotion for her never-ending Vegas residency (which costs about a billion to attend). This has 70s disco sparkle to it and it’s really enjoyable.

Replay - (Shawty’s like a replay?). When the electro-hook kicks in here, I just want to get up and dance. This whole section of the album actually after Chromatica II (should we call it Act 2?) feels like it’s trying to ramp the energy back up after a dip. “Your monsters torture me!” Me looking up at my Fame Monster merchandise.

Chromatica III - OK like the cut scene before the final boss! My favorite of the three orchestral songs. Makes sense considering what’s to come in Sine From Above.

Sine From Above - FUCK. For me, the best song on the album on first listen. This has the most “narrative” and “build” as I would say in a reader’s report at work. Elton John actually brings even more gravitas to this. Let’s spell it out kids: W-I-G! Before there was love there was silence!!!

1000 Doves - It’s depressing me a bit how plaintive she is on this album. But somehow this song is still uptempo? Reminds me of the original version of Dope. But like, listenable. Much as we valorize ARTPOP was oddly prescient for its release year, there were legit duds on that album. Dope was one of them.

Babylon - You can serve it to me ancient city style! She said lemme ham it up real quick to finish this ditty off. The Lady Gaga equivalent of Liza Minnelli turns off a lamp. Gossip! Babble on! This is what I’ll put on to get dressed and, nostalgically, it gives me a little of Disco Heaven closing The Fame. This might start up shit with Madonna again like the good old days :)

OVERALL THOUGHTS: This is the most homogenous album she’s released since The Fame. It’s also one of the snappiest, smoothest listens as an album. Sometimes Gaga albums are better taken in bites... One of the upsides: that homogeneity makes it automatically more cohesive than say, Born This Way or even Joanne (cowboy crap aside). Do the complaints that she’s playing it safe hold water? Absolutely and that’s just as I expected. But this is the album she frankly needed to make at this stage. Just as Madonna needed to make Ray of Light when she did. After such massive and unexpected success basically under the guise of ANOTHER character (this one a basic girl in the Ally/SiB character), she needed to ease back into the Gaga machine.

BEST SONGS: Sine From Above, Free Woman, Enigma, Babylon

Anyway, I’m putting Sine From Above on repeat now!! 

EDIT AFTER 24 HOURS: best songs are enigma, 911, babylon, and rain on me. and i stick by really enjoying sine from above in all its 2012 edm hangover in ibiza-ness. alice is really a grower on several listens. fun tonight, 1000 doves, and stupid love round out the bottom for sure. 

[biwenqing]

comfort

Nie Mingjue isn't entirely sure yet what Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen want from him, but he loves spending time with them. Luckily, over dinner at Lan Xichen's loft, they clear things up. Sequel to surprises.

For fytheuntamed on tumblr's untamed spring fest day twenty prompt: Fond

G | Words: 1626 | ao3

Nie Mingjue took a deep breath as he stood outside the door to Lan Xichen’s loft. This was the third Friday he had been asked by Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng to join them in watching bad movies. Nie Mingjue hadn’t quite understood the appeal. That was until he got to watch both Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng laughing to the point of near tears at special effects and characters.

Considering how closed off they both often were, Lan Xichen with his serene smile and Jiang Cheng with his slight scowl, seeing them both so open and expressive felt beautifully intimate. And if they were both willing to let Nie Mingjue see them like that, he wasn’t a strong enough man to say no.

He lifted his hand and knocked on the door. In his other hand, he carried the take out he had picked up on the way there. Nie Mingjue had insisted that it was his turn to buy dinner, and he just hoped the other two liked what he chose.

Jiang Cheng was the one to open the door, and he smiled at Nie Mingjue, stepping aside to let him in. He then relieved Nie Mingjue of the bag he carried, bringing the food into the kitchen while calling, “I hope you don’t mind, Lan Xichen brought some of his work home with him.”

Nie Mingjue slipped off his shoes, placing them carefully next to the door and trying not to pay any mind to the voice in his head that wished this could be his home. “I thought you worked as a vet, Lan Xichen?” he called as he turned to the couches that separated the living room from the dining area.

The sight that greeted Nie Mingjue was nothing he could have prepared himself for. Lan Xichen was sitting in one corner of the couch, knees pulled up, almost vanishing inside a large white sweater. He had glasses on, and his hair was up in a messy bun. That alone would have been a lot to process, but what made this somehow cuter was the fact that Lan Xichen was holding a tiny kitten, carefully bottle feeding it.

Lan Xichen looked over with a soft smile, and Nie Mingjue felt his heartache with fondness. “We had some orphaned kittens come in,” he explained and nodded towards the box that was beside him on the couch.

Nie Mingjue came closer, leaning over the back of the couch to see the box was softly lined and had blankets for the kittens to cuddle in. He counted five, six with the one that Lan Xichen was feeding. “They’re so tiny.”

“They are about a week old, some of their eyes have just started to open,” Lan Xichen said. He passed the little kitten bottle to Nie Mingjue. “Hold this for a moment.” He then began cleaning up the little kitten he held.

Jiang Cheng came back into the room, carrying plates and silverware. “I set the timer on my phone,” he said to Lan Xichen.

“We’ll have to pause the movie to feed them again,” Lan Xichen explained, looking apologetic.

“I can help with that,” Nie Mingjue was quick to offer. He reached a hand into the box and gently ran a finger along one of the kitten’s backs.

“That would be wonderful,” Lan Xichen smiled, leaning forward to set the sixth kitten back among its siblings. “If you and Jiang Cheng feed them, I can check their weight.” His hands brushed against Nie Mingjue’s own as the kitten settled and Lan Xichen took the bottle back.

Jiang Cheng reappeared then and Nie Mingjue retracted his hand from the box and crossed them behind his back. The take out boxes along with some glasses were added to the coffee table. “So, what do you think of Lan Xichen’s work habits?” Jiang Cheng’s tone was teasing and Lan Xichen was smiling fondly at his boyfriend.

“I think this can be forgiven,” Nie Mingjue said, raising a brow before a grin escaped.

The box of kittens were moved to their own chair, and Lan Xichen plugged in a little heated pad for them. He then washed his hands before returning to his corner of the couch so he could keep an eye on the kittens. Jiang Cheng settled on the other side of the couch which left the middle cushion the most obvious place for Nie Mingjue to sit.

And while it was also the place Nie Mingjue knew he wanted to be, he wasn’t sure yet if he was allowed to feel this want. His sib had tried to explain how clear it was that Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen were flirting with him. Nie Mingjue had focused on scolding Nie Huaisang for reading his text messages (how they had figured out his password he didn’t want to know), but their comments only made him question himself more. Nie Mingjue did not want to come between either of these two men and happiness. It was clear to Nie Mingjue how well Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng fit together.

“Thank you for making sure to get the extra hot sauce,” Jiang Cheng said over his shoulder.

Nie Mingjue decided it would be more awkward if he kept standing and moved around to settle in the middle of the couch. “You’re welcome. I thought you might need it because-”

“You made sure everything was mild enough for Lan Xichen,” Jiang Cheng said, taking Nie Mingjue’s hand to squeeze ever so briefly before he focused on selecting what he wanted from the boxes.

While Nie Mingjue’s mind was still trying to catch up with that, Lan Xichen leaned over and pressed a feather-soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being thoughtful,” he said, before turning to get his own food.

Nie Mingjue realized at that moment that Nie Huaisang had been onto something. Which really was too bad because that meant his sibling would pretend they weren’t smiling smugly behind their fan when they obviously were. He let out a sigh which brought both Jiang Cheng’s and Lan Xichen’s attention back to him.

“...Did we overstep?” Lan Xichen asked, looking at Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue shook his head, gently bumping his knee against Lan Xichen’s. “No. I just... I didn’t want to assume anything or cause any trouble.”

Jiang Cheng set down the things he was holding and reached out, retaking Nie Mingjue’s hand. Nie Mingjue turned and met his eyes. Jiang Cheng took a breath and said, “Then we should have been clearer. We hesitated because we don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured. But we were hoping that you might want to date us?”

Nie Mingjue felt he couldn’t be happier as the doubt that weighed on him lifted completely. Jiang Cheng’s directness was refreshing. “I would very much like that.”

Jiang Cheng smiled back, and while he pushed his confident front, Nie Mingjue caught some relief in the way his shoulders relaxed as well. “And not just because of the cute kittens?” The gentle teasing was back.

“I’m sure you also noticed there is someone who is cuter than a box full of kittens,” Nie Mingjue said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at Lan Xichen.

Jiang Cheng leaned to the side so he could see Lan Xichen fully. His smile softened. “Yes.”

Nie Mingjue looked at Lan Xichen as well, even as he kept his hand in Jiang Cheng’s. Lan Xichen was blushing slightly and lifted his hands over his face. His sweater was so big though, the sleeves covered his hands.

“You’re only making more of a case of your cuteness,” Jiang Cheng said, leaning now against Nie Mingjue’s side. “Add that sweater to what a brilliant vet you are...”

Lan Xichen put his hands down and adjusted his glasses. The way he looked at Jiang Cheng was so fond. How they cared for each other only made Nie Mingjue realize all the more how he had been falling for them both.

Lan Xichen turned that same expression on Nie Mingjue and he found himself saying, “I want to kiss you.”

“Well that works out because I would also like to kiss you,” Lan Xichen said, and moved closer. It has been almost a decade since Nie Mingjue had kissed Lan Xichen, but it felt even more right as they did so now. It was rather chaste, but Nie Mingjue closed his eyes and leaned into it.

When they parted, they both looked at Jiang Cheng. There was nothing to worry about though because Jiang Cheng was smiling like the cat who got the cream. “How’s the mustache?” Jiang Cheng asked Lan Xichen.

“I like it,” Lan Xichen reported back and Nie Mingjue felt his eyebrows raise.

“You have been discussing kissing me?” Nie Mingjue said. This was really his reality?

“Yes, now my turn,” Jiang Cheng said and Nie Mingjue was happy to comply. Jiang Cheng’s kiss was more demanding and left Nie Mingjue a little breathless when it ended.

“I know,” Lan Xichen said when Nie Mingjue looked back to him, his smile turning a little more heated. But he neatly dispersed any tension by asking Jiang Cheng. “Mustache opinion?”

“Agreed, very enjoyable,” Jiang Cheng said back.

Nie Mingjue just shook his head with a chuckle and began to get his own dinner together. “What monstrosity are we watching tonight?”

“Sharknado 5,” Jiang Cheng reported with a wicked smile. “We have watched the other four, so it’ll be interesting to get an outside opinion.”

Nie Mingjue couldn’t argue with that, and settled back on the couch with his plate, sandwiched between his two boyfriends.

Oh yes, Nie Huaisang wasn’t going to let him live this down any time soon.