#and what is so funny about my apron it's literally just a green apron (and it has pockets)

[dragonflavoredcake]

The neurodivergent experience is doing something completely normal and then someone walks in, laughs at you, and says "I'm not laughing at you!" while still actively laughing at you

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 2 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1])

surprise sunday double drop!

insert the mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry meme here

dressed for success, armor on, time to do what she does best.

the way she visibly shrinks and trembles at the salem seven watching her. this coward is so terrified of dying and having to face her wife and son.

NO THEY ARE NOT WELCOME BILLY. WE'RE GONNA KILL THEM BILLY

look at how agatha's body language changes as soon as the others arrive. she's doing the thing!

lilia hasn't eaten in three days. she's poor, okay. her bed is literally inside her wall. (jen is mirroring agatha, interesting! they're both on high alert)

"High Priestess." Immense spiritual power, unwilling or unable to use it. meanwhile, future!lilia is sitting at the tarot table, looking for her coven through time. Unwilling or unable is a funny way to describe Jen's situation, I need to think about it a bit more.

she heard the Ballad, jen. you might even say she wrote it, jen. lol all her crime scene pictures are walls and gardens and random street corners.

look at the symmetry in this shot, it's beautifully composed. alice leaning against the door, a bit shy

I can't get over how agatha takes a moment to feel the weight of what she's about to do to sharon. the girls want a green witch and rio is out of the question, so sharon has to be sacrificed in her place, simple as that. a complete innocent. agatha is about to kill her.

branded is such a violent word too. as if the people of westview were cattle.

how lonely she's been since her husband died. how thrilled and glad she is to be invited to a party. I have very strong feelings about sharon and I'm gonna destroy you with them, don't you worry.

agatha's fake smile fades the moment she's alone. and you know the recurring joke about her forgetting sharon's name and calling her mrs. hart? it's on purpose, and it's demeaning, and it's a way to distance herself from her guilt. she does that with Tommy's name too. if sharon is a joke, maybe her death won't be so wrong. as if she's hurting a caricature rather than a real person.

agatha doesn't want billy anywhere near the crossfire

sharon took her purse but forgot to take off her gardening apron

future!lilia jumps back in time for a second to let us know she doesn't appreciate elphabagatha straddling her. couldn't be me.

BILLY HAS ALWAYS BEEN LINKED TO RABBITS AND SEÑOR SCRATCHY AND NICKY. IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

nicky's bell!

lilia always singing backup is both hilarious and in character tbh. agatha would think she deserves to be lead singer. lilia would think she's undeserving despite literally sounding like patti lupone and being the most powerful witch around

(has there been anything from the costume department about lilia's necklace and vest decorations? they look fascinating)

herb, my guy. it's time to move to eastview or smth

there is absolutely NO REASON for agatha to be that intense. she is not doing any real magic, she's playing a part and being cheesy about it as usual

yeah, sorry girls. you are all great singers and harmonize together beautifully, but like. you know. patti lupone. she's on another plane of existence. like I said perfectly in character! lilia is that bitch!! be glad she has a heart of gold and the self-confidence of a shoelace, or she would literally be ruling a couple galaxies at this point

oh, alice, sweetie. while agatha is faking emotion, alice's tears are so real and painful. what's worse, agatha's feelings about the song are just as deep and complex, but she won't let herself feel them. especially not in front of other people.

gasp! how DARE YOU ma'am! lol they were all speechless for a moment at the intimacy they just shared and now they are deflecting

oooh Agatha trying to get a rise out of them calls Lilia a coward, jen a fraud and alice a disappointment. We have our lion, scarecrow and tin man.

well someone's panicking

well well well how the turntables

lmao billy going agathaahahahahahaha

kudos for making the salem seven so creepy on zero budget tbh

agatha looks at the Road, looks at the blue magic, looks at Billy. and you know what I think? this is when she knew. right from the start. that this is Billy, Wanda's Billy, and that he created this. Her heart is still pounding in panic, she cannot believe she's still alive. She could call the kid out immediately, but she still hasn't got what she wanted: the others' powers. and she has learned the hard way how dangerous chaos magic is, so she chooses to lay low and study the situation a little more. she is always, always scheming and studying and improvising, she is bullshitting when she takes off her shoes, needs to pretend she knows what's going on.

toto we're not in kansas etc etc. dear lord these scenes are so infuriatingly dark. it's gonna be a bitch to brighten them.

and that's it for episode two! next we look at sharon's tragic demise. shoutout to @73chn1c0l0rr3v3l for always being first to like and reblog, thank you!

go to episode 3 part 1

[vampir3sfall]

ineffable husbands hcs cuz they r infecting my brain -

azi always takes off crowleys glasses when he comes in the shop, and absolutely refuses to let him put them back on unless they are going outside

azi always loses everything, and crowley finds them for it

crowley takes the right side of the bed (closer to the wall so its snuggly) and aziraphale takes the left (bigger nightstand + closer to the bathroom)

aziraphale brought home a tabby cat he found on the side of the street one day. crowley argued about it for hours until aziraphale gave him the silent treatment for all of five minutes.

the cats name is Lucy. Crowley says that it is short for Lucifer, Azi says its short for Lucille. Lucy knows that she just looks like a Lucy.

crowley didn't like Lucy at first because she thought Lucy would steal azira's attention away from her. on the second day, Lucy batted a glass of a shelf and broke it, and since then crowley and her have been best friends.

crowley sometimes goes into cat form to play with lucy, and lucy is smart enough to know never to touch crowley's plants (what a smart kitty)

crowley loves horror movies and aziraphale loves romance, but most of the time they both watch romance movies because crowley complains about the unrealistic demons, possessions and zombies more then he complains about annoying straight people

for the first few weeks (months if we are being fr) after they got back together, crowley wouldn't let aziraphale out of her sight. she would follow him into the bathroom if she could (but angels dont often have to piss)

one night she woke up when azira had gone downstairs to get a glass of water, and curled into snake form and started hissing and thrashing violently. it took azi half an hour to calm her down after that

aziraphale can't cook for shit. shes tried, but she really just can't. she burns everything she tries to cook. on the other hand, her baking is literally heavenly. she often makes sweet things to sell at Nina's shop

crowley does all the cooking in their relationship, and azi buys her a bunch of stupid aprons to cook with (kiss the cook, no bitchen in my kitchen, what's cookin good lookin, ect). crowley's favorite thing to make is anything that is meat that she gets to cut up

aziraphel's favorite color is yellow because she loves crowleys eyes (obvi)

crowley's favorite color is red, but her second favorite color is green because she loves the earth and living things. plus it is the same color as the plants

unless asked otherwise, azi always calls crowley her wife. it is very funny when aziraphale goes 'this is my wife! ^.^' and show you a person who is presenting as the most divorced, alcoholic middle aged man possible

contrary to popular opinion, crowley does not hate children. (she was warlock's nanny for like 6 years). however, she does hate babies. what the fuck are you supposed to do with a baby.

aziraphale loves babies, and thinks that they are the greatest thing on earth. she also likes children, but never really responds to the things that they say correctly

after they got back together, crowley never initiated physical contact with azi because she was still so distraught about getting rejected after the kiss. it took a while until she got so sad and drove aziraphale insane because they finally had everything so WHY DIDN'T SHE TOUCH HIM. eventually, aziraphale begged and crowley gave in because what else would they do

crowley has gotten close to people a select few times in history, but nothing ever came of it. why would it? none of them are aziraphale

while she did get very close to freddie mercury, their relationship consisted of them being gay, drinking together, and occasionally talking about their respective love lives. when freddie found out he had aids, he told crowley that he hoped to see him in the next life. crowley was distraught for three years after that, because she knew she would really never see freddie again

aziraphale has also gotten people who are very attracted to her beacuse of her angelic nature, but again, nothing has come from it. why should it? they have (almost) all they need with crowley

every night, before they go to bed, they both (brush?? comb?? preen??) fix eachother's wings

aziraphale gets up early every morning, and makes tea for herself and coffee for crowley. they have one of those instant coffee machines (you put the little pill in it and it spits out espresso i forgor whats its called) and they both regularly say that it is the best thing that humanity has ever created

no one tell crowley about energy drinks

[smolbeansthings]

Since my last post about my boss walking in on me mid change inthe bathroom a great many of embarrassing incidents has happened at work that I think is worth sharing because it's kinda funny in hindsight. As I mentioned before I'm not the best at hiding my diapered state. I take precautions but they do not always help. I know for a fact the some of my co-workers know I'm diapered or highly suspects that I am diapered. The first incident is fairly light in comparison to my other incidents but it is very important leading into an few other incidents that causes one of my coworkers to heavily suspect me.

This day in particular I was recovering from diaper rash and had worn some ABU little kings to work since they are cloth-backed. I went to work in this diaper not thinking it'd be a big deal. That day i worked with one of my favorite workers who for the sake of privacy will be called Will. Will was the type of person who had a horrible sense of humor that I found endearing. On top of that he's a prankster so often he's untying my apron or chucking pieces at and on many occassions putting them down my shirt. This not particularly fun when I'm wearing a onesie because there's not way for me to get the ice out without looking sus and it always ends up in my diaper. Anyway this day went about as normal and at one point he told me I should fix my pants because my "underwear" was showing off my cute little prints and a lion. I must've show several customers before he said anything and before I could fix it one of my other favorite coworkers took a look out of curiosity and mentioned how cute they were. I blushed and was quick to fix my pants before I drew more attention.

This next incident also includes Will as well. To give context here, my work is very degenerate (I'm the cause of it mostly). We are very open talking about sex kinks, what have you and my butt is constantly being slapped and in one case groped. It happens very often and some of my coworkers make passing comments about how I never flinch when my butt was slapped and some occasions I wouldn't even notice. Well this day Will and I was making dirty jokes and I mentioned how I loved being smacked in the ass. He took this as a challenge and with all his might smacked my diapered ass in which 2 things became clear. One, a loud THUD sound echoed throughout the work area that could not be ignored. To make the incident more embarrassing I let loose and messed my diaper literally just before impact and as he made contact he mushed my mess into my bottom. I tried to play it cool as I excused myself to go to the restroom but I'm not confident that I did a good job at that. To make matters even worse I had to run to the back and get my backpack since it had my changing supplies and spare diapers and haul it with me to the restroom. within that time frame I soiled myself some more and even had a panic attack in the bathroom because I had soiled myself even more whole setting up my changing mat. I wasn't sure if it was safe for me to change and with how unpredictable my incontinence can be I was very likely to mess myself mid change or even in my freshly changed diaper. I willed myself to change into a clean diaper and of course mess myself again not too long after.

This final bit did not happen at work but rather at a Van's store. This day I went to go hang out with one of my littles friends. I wanted to wear something cute that day so I put on my kawaii modokawa green shirt with my blue jean shortalls from tykables with the snap crotch for easy checks and changes. I also double boosted my Rearz Alpaca diapers and wore my Lilo bow that was gifted to me for christmas. I had to run some errands before I headed over to my friends house so my diaper was gradually becoming more more wet but nothing that warranted a change, especially since I had double boosted. When I arrived to her house we decided to venture out and buy some Velcro strapped shoes because they are perfect little shoes and because I don't tie my shoe laces. As we ventured off I noticed my diaper bulging out of my shortalls. I was sure that my diaper should've lasted longer but it was possible that I overestimated how much liquids I took. This became clear after we arrived to the store and I got out of my car, I spotted a dark wet spot in the driver's seat and my diaper was extremely heavy. I also waddled a bit as I made my way to the door the door that felt very noticeable. We asked the worker if they could bring us the shoes we wanted in out individual sizes and went to try them on. I sat down to put mines one which felt awkward with how thick my diaper was at this point. I stood up from my seat and caught a glimpse at where I was sitting and to my embarrassment a wet spot right were I was sitting. I t wasn't big but fairly noticeable. To add insult to injury as I bent over to take off the shoes my shortalls buttons unsnapped themselves from the weight of my diaper fully exposing how wet it and massive it was. I hurriedly snapped them back into place, luckily no one saw but my friend but from that point on I was very cautious with how I moved.

[osmpalliumduo]

Dream smp actor au my beloved

First season

Dream is a very famous actor, his movies got recognition very quickly regardless of being a pretty new actor, the most popular out of all of his movies being “Manhunt” an action movie that has a lot of improv and fighting scenes

After his second movie of Manhunt he decided that along side with some of his close friends and co-workers to start a tv-show called the Dream smp

It took a really long while to get all the actors for the first season, a lot of planning and getting people to work on sets and props

Some of the actors Dream got to participate were his close friends Sapnap and George who were in the cast of his last movies “Manhunt”

Tommyinnit was a kid Dream found in a small community of actors called “Hypixel: Sky Block series” he went ahead and literally snatched him from that serie and added him as one of the main leads of the storyline of his serie

Tubbo was kind of a addition out of the blue, Tommy after joining the cast decided to take Tubbo with him, a fellow friend and co-worker in the Hypixel series. Dream didn’t had a problem with it after realizing that both kids were insanely talented

Wilbur was, in Dream’s words, the best addition to the cast he could had ever imagined, Wilbur had been in the past in several other popular shows like “SMP Live” and “SMP Earth”

Wilbur not only did an excellent work as an actor but also added so much into the story, helping Dream several times with the storyline and script, eventually becoming a co-writer of the script over all season one

Making the serie itself was hard, but getting everything together and editing was a whole lot of work

But the most difficult thing was actually acting, the thing was that the whole cast of the serie got along so well, that when it was the time to actually act, getting in character was kinda impossible

Even for Dream was difficult to get in character

The whole war declaration took at least five shots because Dream kept breaking character or Sapnap kept wheezing

Eret’s betrayal was one of the last scenes to be recorded because it was just really really hard for the cast to actually act hurt or not joke between lines

The Tommy vs Dream duel was so funny to the cast, even more when Tommy was done with makeup and he literally had an arrow inserted in his stomach

So many memes, so many

The L’manberg era was one of the most difficult to act and write, the cast being new and not used to the whole atmosphere

But when the election and pogtopia era hit in, it was much more easy for the actors to take everything much more serious

Jschlatt and Technoblade were added to the cast and it was insane for everyone, both actors being really close friends of Wilbur because of their old projects together (SMP Live, SMP Earth, etc)

The election arc was, described by the whole cast, as one of the best parts of the whole season

Quackity would pull this insane improvs moments between shots and everyone would just have to run with it, getting a lot of extra but very cool scenes

Tommy and Tubbo would just pull the strangest faces in shots whenever they knew that the camara focus wasn’t in them just to try to make each other laugh

Niki and Awesamdude would sneak food into the set all the time, bags of chips, coffee, chocolate, sometimes even cake

Wilbur, Schlatt and Quackity had this whole competition between them where they would literally live inside the set and whoever stayed the longest would win 100 dlls

The pogtopia era was more easy to record, but much harder to act

Wilbur had lots of trouble being actually mean to Tommy and overall acting as an antagonist

When recording sometimes he would just stop and ask Tommy if he was okay and make sure to let all of the cast know he didn’t meant what he was saying

Tubbo Schlatt and Quackity had overall a very good time recording, most of the time laughing after hard scenes and joking around

Not Schlatt and Techno collectively suffering cus they got at least three hours of makeup prep because of tusks and horns 😭✋

The pogtopia set was one of the hardest to archive, this one having legit stares and buttons on the walls

Tubbo and Wilbur fell down those stares at least five times, Techno almost convinced Dream to use a harness on set

Technoblade revealing the vault full of weapons and stuff for the revolution was such a difficult scene to make because everyone kept messing around with the cool props

Schlatts death was easy to act, as soon as he died he made a peace sign and screamed “I’m outta here!” And proceed to walk out of the set😐

Moving on, Philza’s addition to the last episode of the season was something most of the cast wasn’t aware of, most of the reactions (besides Philza and Wilbur) being completely genuine

Philza is known for his famous serie called Hardcore and a couple of appearances on others people’s series

The end of the season was something hard to do, people had to use harnesses and when explosions occurred they had to be literally thrown into the air getting a lot of genuine screams

Tommy was supposed to be the president of L’manberg but he decided to pass the power to Tubbo in a moment of improv, Dream and Wilbur liked that scene a whole lots

The cast made Wilbur a funeral party after the last shot, lot of people got drunk while Phil just took care of the minors and made sure they didn’t get in trouble <3

Second season

The second season was something that all the fandom awaited eagerly, wanting to see what had happened with L’manberg and the beloved characters, so Dream and Wilbur made sure to make everything perfect, everything connecting points on the story

Ranboo was one of the new additions, a new actor that worked on his own going from place to place, the well known place like Hypixel, Bedwars (Invited by Purpled) and in his own side of TikTok

Dream found out about him and decided to add him just on a go, he of course wasn’t ready for the big impact the boy would have in the story at all

Now, Ranboo is one in the suffering gang, every morning having to spend hours in makeup along side with Tubbo (horns) Wilbur (ghost) and Tommy (exile appearance)

By the way, Ranboo’s storyline was supposed to be separated from the whole L’manberg and Exile story, but Tommy and Tubbo liked him a lot so decided to add him on their storylines

Tommy was supposed to burn down George’s house alone, but the same day they were recording he asked Dream to add Ranboo. And Tubbo decided to make Ranboo his minutes man out of the blue with simple improv and Ranboo went along with it

Oh, talking about Exile

If the cast thought Pogtopia had been hard to act??? Wait for the Exile arc

Literal pain, for literally everyone involved

Tommy is a lil shit but it was legitimately difficult for Dream to be actually that villain and manipulate and ahg, pain

Tubbo and Tommy had so much trouble recording the whole fight scene at the wall, it took at least three days to get the shot right because Tommy and Tubbo couldn’t stop breaking character or laughing

Oh yeah, it was difficult to this kids to stay away from each other, they were so used to working together that it was legitimately difficult to not be together

Which caused for Tommy and Tubbo to sneak into eachother sets and try to chat and just vibe together which would end up with Ranboo dragging Tommy away from Tubbos set and Quackity doing as well with Tubbo

New L’manberg was nice to record, Tubbo tells when he is asked about it, it was a really nice change for the dynamics, including Ranboo and Fundy more, tho he missed Tommy dearly during the recordings

At the very end of exile, one of the last shots, most exactly when Dream has to blow up Tommys stuff, he accidentally tripped with one of the props and ended up breaking a leg

The recording went straight to Twitter where people lost their shit over the scene, mostly because Dream tried to continue the scene with improv but Tommy lost his shit and they had to take the whole shot again after Dream got checked up

Technos execution was planned to happen really early in the season but Techno kept forgetting that he had to get on set so they had to move it slightly at the end, the end of exile and the execution hitting at the same time

The butcher army cast had the idea of the bloody aprons, Dream had this whole thing were they would have this really cool uniforms but they just went “nah, bloody aprons”

Ranboo was supposed to have one as well but he tried to use his character’s morals to get out of it, he succeeded, no bloody apron for Ranboo :)

The whole execution scene at Technos house was so funny to record, things without effects are extremely hilarious

Quackity kept messing up his lines, Tubbo kept falling and tripping when he had to run, Ranboo just didn’t knew what to do, Fundy kept blocking “hits” that he was supposed to take

Techno just wanted to be finished already, he was so tired 🥲

Moving on, the whole death scene where Techno uses the totem of undying was mostly made with editing, the anvil was a green square made out of foam, and the totem was just a green stick

Really funny without effects, really badass after editing

Moving on! Tommy living in a hole was literally not planned, Tommy was supposed to try and hide inside Technos room but he said fuck that and made the team make another entire set for something that would last tops a week 😐

Techno and Tommy had a blast doing the whole “Welcome Home Theseus”. The scene was taken perfectly the first shot because the both of them were so excited for that scene

Finally Tommy can leave the suffering makeup gang cuz his character is healthier now 😌✌️Techno is now taking his place suffering in makeup prep because of his scars and tusks

The day of the Festival was so important to the storyline so everyone was extremely nervous before recording, but it was okay, the whole episode came out really well

Tommy and Techno had to use green capes between the invisible shots and it was just hilarious for everyone on set

Tubbo accidentally forgot his speech and had to improvise in front of all the crew

Dream fell at least twice when he was “building” the walls around L’manberg again

Tubbo and Tommy kept laughing or apologizing to eachother while in the fighting scene

Tubbo accidentally slipped and the disc Mellohi accidentally broke when he was about to give it to Dream 😬

The whole Doomsday deal was something really really hard

A lot of what happened was made with editing so most of what happened on set was just green screens and sounds out of computers to let the actors know what was happening

Technos dogs were actually from a fan! This fan had this whole adoption establishment and decided to let the cast use em for the recording! They even got a tour :)

Technos and Tommy’s whole exchange during doomsday is supposed to be heartbreaking and sad to watch, but Techno and Tommy have such a good relationship that they just, kept laughing, Tommy kept making faces and Techno’s voice wasn’t genuine while saying his lines

Ghostbur’s exchange with Phil almost didnt happened because Wilbur kept refusing to spend five hours in makeup prep lmfao

The whole cast did sang the L’manberg anthem after it was blown up, even Dream and Techno. The clip of the cast just singing will forever stay in Twitter

The aftermath of doomsday was a good change of things, much more calm recording sessions for at least a few weeks

Snowchester was something that Tubbo came up with as pure improv, he liked the idea of some kind of retirement place so he decided to add it after doomsday

Ranboo moving in with Phil and Techno was complete improv as well from Phil’s and Techno’s part, Ranboo literally had no idea what was happening when Phil invited him to live with em

Ranboo literally got snatched lmao

Endgame or the final disk war was surely something

The prop team had to make bout four new sets in the matter of a week, the most hard one to make being the mountain one

Tommy and Tubbo knew that the whole episode would be hard to record but they were still extremely hyped just because they got to record together again as besties

Makeup time at the end was about eight hours, Tommy suffered a lot while Tubbo was just used to it at this point

THE WHOLE PRISON SCENE WHERE ALL THE SERVER GOES THROUGH THE PORTAL??? PAIN.

Everyone is lost, no one knows when to cross, people are missing armor, no one knows where the fuck George is, Punz keeps breaking his sword accidentally, everything is falling apart

Quackity wanted to play a prank on the cast by appearing shirtless in the super intense scene but everyone was so tired of recording that Quackity was actually shirtless in the final shot

Dream stayed in his obsidian box at least half an hour because Tommy kept messing up his lines

At the end of the season, where Dream is finally taken to prison Wilbur makes his appearance to Tubbos and Tommys surprise

Their reactions were genuine because only Dream and Wilbur knew that part of the script

Overall, the end of the season was amazing and the fandom went insane with it

Extra stuff <3

Nobody knows if Skeppy and Bad are actually dating or not, it is a mystery for everyone

Most of the pets used in set were borrowed from fans :)

The Drista saga are used as comedic relief or filler episodes, Drista being actually Dream’s lil sister who insisted in wanting to appear in the show as a god

Michael is actually Technos little brother who went to the set a couple of times cus Techno was babysitting him. He made his way into some of Ranboos and Tubbos shots, after that they decided to adopt him and make Michael canon just cus they liked the kid a lot

Dream decided to give Karl the chance to have a spin off of the show called Tales of the smp after realizing his talent at storytelling. Karl had the possibility to get new actors for the serie but he decided to use the same cast and just make them act differently, the fandom loved it

Wilbur and Tommy had this cool idea between them and after a while of writing and planning they decided to start their own show called the “Origins SMP” featuring some of their friends from other shows, not only the Dream smp

[thanks for reading lol, I think I got slightly carried away]

[ibis-gt]

I honestly would love to read about the first time Cam finds out Luther is shrinking because he has feelings for him. In that hanahaki disease au.

ask and ye shall receive.... cam figures it out. just shy of 2000 words.

~~~

“Aaaand… there,” Cam said, and gave the screwdriver one final twist. He pulled on the little contraption in front of him a few times to test its stability and sat back on his haunches, finally satisfied. “You’re all set.”

It is one of four little rope and pulley elevator systems that he’d set up around Luther’s apartment. It consisted of a small wooden plank that Luther could stand on and use the rope system to raise or lower himself. Each one was operable at height ranges between about a foot and a half to four inches. They let him get up onto his sofa, his bed, the kitchen counter, and the bathroom sink.

“You really didn’t have to do all that,” Luther protested from his position just behind Cam. “I mean, I don’t get that small that often, I probably won’t use them that much.”

Cam laughed and pushed a stray wisp of hair out of his face, looking up at Luther. “What are you talking about? You’re always shrinking around me. It’s okay, I’m happy to help. That’s what friends are for.” He watched the usual blush spread across Luther’s face, the telltale shiver run down his spine, and smiled as Luther shrank another inch. He’d lost some height here and there during the installation process as they chatted, and had gone down to about five foot even, if Cam had to guess. “Anyway, you let me know if you have any trouble with these, and I’ll be over to fix ‘em as soon as I can. And there’s the bells if you’re in any real trouble - those strings there, see? They’re hooked up to a bell in my apartment, ring that and I’ll come right over.”

“My cat’ll have a field day with them,” Luther murmured, brow furrowing. “Maybe we should do something other than string.”

Cam chewed on the end of his screwdriver in contemplation. “Hm. Good point. I’ll figure something out later.” He slipped the screwdriver in his toolbelt and slapped his hands on thighs as he stood up. “Well! I’d better get back to my place and start dinner. You’re coming over, right?”

“Oh! As long as it’s not an imposition? I mean, I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“Nah, s’alright, you’re always welcome. Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. See you in an hour?”

Luther’s blush deepened and he lost another two inches. “S-see you then,” he managed.

Cam chuckled fondly to himself as he left. He tried not to think of Luther’s condition as cute or funny, because when the shrinking was really bad it put the poor guy in danger. But he couldn’t help but find it amusing when Luther lost just a little height, ending up just a slightly shorter version of himself. And when he went on one of his long rambles and shrank a little bit at a time all throughout, it put Cam in mind of a deflating balloon, which was just too silly not to laugh at. And when he ended up really tiny, and he was just like a little doll, and fit so perfectly in the palm of Cam’s hand…

Cam shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, that was too far. He shouldn’t think like that, no doubt it was terrifying for Luther to be so small and vulnerable. He sighed as he shouldered his door open, hands full of leftover wood and string. He set them on the little table where he kept his keys by the door, then unbuckled his toolbelt and hung it on the coat rack, lost in thought.

He’d been puzzling over what caused Luther to shrink for a while now. Was it just at random? Was it like an allergic reaction, and some kind of food or environmental thing kicked it off? He had a brief vision of Luther sneezing and instantly shrinking down to bug size. No, knock it off, he chastised himself, not funny. A little funny. But don’t laugh at it.

Anyway, he hadn’t seen Luther ever sneeze when he shrank, so that probably wasn’t it. What were the symptoms? He’d make a list, that would help him narrow it down.

Cam slipped an apron over his head - one of the novelty ones his sister kept getting him, he didn’t bother to read the witty joke about buns printed on the front - and started on the dough for his spaghetti. Whenever possible, he liked to make things from scratch. Besides, having something to do with his hands let his mind work better. He worked the problem around in his mind just like he worked the dough in front of him, kneading it, pushing it around, looking at it from different angles.

So. What were the warning signs? Luther tended to get awkward and shy just before he shrank. He’d blush, stammer or trip over his words, either avoid eye contact or stare like he couldn’t look away, and of course the final sign was that signature shiver right before a loss of height. A lot of those symptoms could be attributed to anxiety as well - was that what triggered the shrinking, just whenever he was anxious? But that couldn’t be it, Luther had been anxious plenty of times without shrinking. Not to mention he worked a high-stress job, waiting tables at a local diner, and wouldn’t be able to make it through the day if anxiety made him shrink. So that wasn’t it.

Cam rolled the dough out flat and cut it into strips. He hung the fresh noodles up to dry and put water on to boil, then opened the fridge and pulled out the meatballs he’d shaped that morning.

His brain kept chugging along on the issue as he worked, hands going on automatic. He came back to the present long enough to taste the sauce he’d made, hem and haw, and add a little more garlic, then went right back to it. There was something tugging at the back of his mind, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

A sound startled him out of his thoughts - the ringing of a bell.

“Shoot,” Cam hissed, dropping the sauce spoon. It clattered onto the stove and left little pools of sauce cooling on the glass surface. He’d deal with that later though, Luther needed him now. He switched the burners to low and headed for the door.

Luther’s door was locked, so he had to duck back inside his apartment to grab the spare key. He opened the door slowly and called out.

“Luther? Was that just the cat, or do you need me?” Cam scanned the room, looking for that distinctive neon green jumpsuit. It clashed horribly with everything, but it was useful for spotting him when he ended up tiny. Sure enough, there he was by the strings for the bell, waving an arm to get Cam’s attention. He was easy to spot, as far as things went, standing about a foot tall. Cam hurried over.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Cam took a knee in front of Luther and leaned in close, inspecting him for injuries. Luther took a step back, startled by the sudden rush of worry, and Cam made himself pull back as well. It had to be scary to have someone looming over you like that, he told himself, give him a little space.

“I-I’m fine,” Luther said. “I just… well, this happened, and now I can’t really open my door, so I was hoping you could give me a lift over for dinner? Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve used the bell. I could’ve texted you.”

The tension flooded out of Cam and he laughed in relief. “No, that’s fine, I just jumped to conclusions. I can give you a lift, sure.” He cupped his hands and held them out to Luther, who climbed on and settled in, sitting down with his legs crossed. Cam rose slowly, being careful not to jostle Luther, and began to amble back towards the door. A thought occurred to him.

“What did it?” Cam asked.

Luther looked up, startled. “What did what?”

‘“What made you shrink this time? I’ve been trying to work it out on my own and I’m just not getting it. There’s gotta be a common thread, right, you’re not just shrinking at random?”

Luther stared at him in open-mouthed shock, face growing steadily redder.

“I mean,” Cam continued, “if you were just shrinking at random, it’d be hard to hold down a job, y’know? Do you ever shrink at work? And anyway, didn’t you say - ” His eyes widened as that thing that had been nagging at him finally became clear. “You said you don’t shrink all the time! But you shrink pretty often whenever I’m around. Am I doing it, somehow?”

“No, no, no,” Luther said hurriedly, but Cam could feel him getting smaller.

“Oh, liar!” Cam chortled. “Nice try, Pinnochio, but I’m literally holding you right now. Is it actually me?”

“It’s - it’s not - not always?” Luther was practically cowering away from him now, and Cam realized he’d been a little harsh.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry. Look, we don’t have to talk about it, okay? It’s your business, I shouldn’t’ve pried.”

“No, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, it’s just… hard to say out loud, um…” Luther fidgeted with the collar of his jumpsuit, avoiding Cam’s eyes. He was red as a tomato, mouth drawn up in an adorable little pout, and so small and cute that Cam’s heart ached. Then it clicked.

“Oh. Is it me, like… because you like me?” Cam asked. “Like, you have a crush on me, is that it?”

Luther let out a sound like a tea kettle whistling, shrinking down at an alarming rate to only five inches tall. Cam couldn’t help himself. He laughed so hard he snorted. When he finally got a hold on himself again, the wounded look on Luther’s face sobered him instantly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but you don’t know how long I’ve been trying to work this out, and the answer’s been right in front of my face the whole time! I swear I’m laughing at myself, not at you. Anyway, you wanna go out sometime?”

Luther gaped up at him for a long moment. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. Finally he shut his mouth and nodded furiously. Cam grinned.

“Or this could be like our first date, right? I’ll get some candles and dim the lights. We could even 'Lady and the Tramp' it with the spaghetti! Or - okay, okay, sorry, I’ll stop.” Luther had started to shrink again, and Cam didn’t want his cooking to go to waste just because his guest was too small to eat it. “Hey, I joke a lot, but I want you to know I’m being serious here,” he said gently. “I’d like to go out with you, if you’re alright with it. Is it going to cause problems, though? Like are you going to shrink every time we’re together?”

Luther shifted and looked away, finally finding his voice. “I - I don’t know. The doctor said if I told you about how I felt, it would get easier. But he didn’t say it would go away entirely… if that’s not something you want to put up with, we don’t have to - ”

“No, no, that’s fine, I don’t mind it. Just if it was a problem for you, is all. I like you a lot, Luther. I’d love to be your partner, if you’ll have me.”

Luther looked back up at Cam with a huge, genuine, relieved smile on his teeny tiny face. Cam’s heart melted.

“I’d like that.”

[spencersawkward]

omg omg i know matthews birthday isnt for a couple weeks but i would die for a bday sex one shot omg

i made you wait so long for this i'm so sorry omg. one-shots usually take me longer bc i want them to be detailed!

summary: reader has plans for Matthew’s 41st birthday, but things take their own turn. 

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (male receiving), degradation, Soft!Dom Matthew with some fluff, too; fingering, creampie, implied age gap. 

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.3k

masterlist

I haul the enormous bag of flour onto the counter, grunting. it's early afternoon, and my day has been spent wrapping all of Matthew's gifts and trying to plan out the perfect birthday celebration. he's turning 41, and all I want is for him to feel as special as he feels to me. the cake is the last piece of the puzzle, and I'm hoping that my less-than-excellent culinary skills improve over the course of the next few hours.

I set out all the ingredients first, swaying to my music while I go through the recipe and decide how much I need. it shouldn't be too complicated, right? just chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. I thought I'd try to recreate the Rumple Buttercup cartoon with it, but now I'm not so sure. that might be flirting with disaster.

instead of deciding right there, I just get started on the batter. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

the air is thick with sweetness and warmth as the oven slowly pre-heats and I stir together the silky smooth chocolate batter. I pour the mix into a round baking pan, tapping it a bit to make sure it's even, before pushing it into the oven. naturally, I lick the whisk clean.

my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see that Matthew's texted me.

on my way home now!

my heart stutters in my chest as I check the time. he's definitely early; he told me this morning that he wouldn't be at home until at least seven. my eyes flicker to the cake, over the messy kitchen, and back to my screen.

early?

yep. can't wait to see you. followed by a series of heart emojis. I start to panic a little. this throws my whole schedule off; I was going to do my hair, pick up food from his favorite restaurant, set the table, litter the bed with rose petals. I wanted everything to be just right for him; it's the first time he's had a birthday with me.

and now he's going to come home to me with flour-dusted cheeks and a half-baked cake. I quickly clean the kitchen and wipe my face before running off to the bedroom, rifling through my closet for something nice. thank god I already showered this morning because there's no way I'd have time now. I find the dress I'd planned to wear, red and slinky and pretty, before dropping my clothes and changing right away.

truly, I move at the speed of light when I do my hair, scatter the rose petals, and call the restaurant to get our order started. we'll need to run out and get it, but Matthew likes going for walks, so that shouldn't be a problem.

the smell of chocolate wafts through the house while I tie an apron around my waist and get a bowl out of the cabinets. the cake needs to cool for a while, but I might as well get started on the frosting. who knows how long that'll take?

too damn long, apparently.

Matthew opens the front door while I'm halfway through my crumb coat, the soft green shade of the Rumple Buttercup colors coming along nicely. I start to panic a little when I hear his footsteps on the stairs.

"Y/N!" he calls out.

"kitchen!" I respond without moving. he probably shouldn't see the cake, but at this point it's too late. there's fluffy buttercream frosting and food coloring all over my apron. all I can do is wait patiently as he strolls into the room.

"what are you up to?" he sets his hand on my back, smiling.

"making your cake, birthday boy."

"mmm." he wraps a hand around my arm, drags it down while leaning his chin on my shoulder. "looks really nice so far."

"you like the color?" I ask.

"I do." he mumbles, starting to touch my waist. "what material is this?"

"silk."

"you know I love that." he squeezes my waist and I have to resist the blush spreading up my cheeks. he's affectionate right now, and I want to resist, but it's hard.

"what're you doing?" I question playfully in response to the drifting of his fingers down my thighs.

"I'm excited to see you."

"I'm excited to see you, too, but we have a strict schedule tonight."

Matthew groans and drops his head into the space between my neck and shoulder. his hands don't leave my hips.

"why?" he whines.

"because I want you to have the best birthday ever." I smooth off the top of the cake, sighing when he digs his fingernails into me. it feels heavenly, and the featherlight kisses he's leveling on my jaw are making me woozy.

"making me wait?" he brushes over my ass, squeezing the flesh lightly. "that's cruel."

I laugh a little and swipe my finger through the frosting.

"try this and tell me if I'm still cruel."

he grabs my hand in both of his, sliding my index into his mouth and licking it off of me. my jaw drops in surprise before he pulls away and drops it. it's unbelievably sexy.

"that is really good." he smiles, then kisses my cheek in an alarmingly innocent manner. he knows what he's doing. "don't be a tease, darling."

"you--" I stutter, trying to regain my concentration. it's futile at this point; it isn't until he moves away from my body that I'm able to keep working on the cake. he only glances with a knowing smirk, walking around the counter to sit across from me.

"how was your day?"

"my day was jam-packed with planning for a little ingrate's birthday." I joke.

"I'm not an ingrate." he protests. one look at his pout and I feel guilty for teasing. standing on tiptoes, I lean over the counter and plant a kiss on his mouth.

"you're right, I'm sorry," I sigh. "I just had a whole plan and when you came home early, I didn't have time for all of it."

"what can I do?" he offers immediately. I scowl.

"you're not gonna help me prepare your birthday celebration, silly."

"but I wanna make it easier."

"you wanna make it easier?" I ask, the corners of my lips quirking up. he nods enthusiastically and I hold his gaze. "I need to go pick up our dinner, so you can walk with me."

"ooh, yes!" he leaps up in an almost child-like manner, coming around to my side again. I nuzzle into his shoulder as I finish piping the face onto the cake. he snorts when he sees the completed project. "is that Rumple?"

"shut up, it looks so bad." I complain. my body leans into his in defeat. even though I tried, Rumple looks like he's been possessed and exorcised in one sitting: he's got crazy eyes and a lopsided face.

"no, it's beautiful," he pecks the top of my head. "he's supposed to look funny."

all I can do is turn around and hug him, giggling at the absolute monstrosity that I've created. he wraps his arms around me tightly and we start to sway a little.

"I feel like Victor Frankenstein." I laugh. he untangles our bodies to tilt my chin up and look at him.

"you're way cuter." he rubs my nose with his own. I'm smiling so big, it hurts. he makes me so unbelievably happy, I can't imagine not being by his side. Matthew is the best boyfriend in the world, and I really want everything to live up to his expectations.

our fingers thread together briefly before we get ready to go pick up our food.

...

"I am literally going to combust." I giggle, throwing my napkin onto the table. red wax drips down the sides of the candle between us, and Matthew's eyes are starry as he watches me talk.

"good?" he asks.

"amazing. how was yours?"

"could barely get it down." he gestures to the empty plate. I throw my head back and laugh more than I should. Matthew frowns. "what?"

"that's such a dad joke."

"really?" he laughs along with me until we're both just smiling brightly at each other. I don't want to step too far; we've been dating under a year, still. but I see myself with Matthew forever. we've already moved in together; I've never felt so strongly as I feel for him, and I think that he feels it, too. in our bones.

"yes, but I like dad jokes."

"come here." he holds his arms out and I get up from the table, walking over to sit on his lap. he shifts so I can be more comfortable, and I place both hands on my stomach.

"I have such a food baby right now."

"do you?" he sets one hand over the bump. I lean my head into his shoulder, curling up a little. he starts to rub my tummy gently, holding me close while we sit in a relative quiet. "I like it."

"mmm." I hum, wrapping my arms around his neck. although he could easily turn this sexual, he doesn't. we just linger, breathing and letting our food settle. I really am full; the chances of me falling asleep are higher than not.

I ask Matthew to tell me more about his day as I sit there, and the rumble of his voice in his chest is soothing. as the candle wax drips further and further down, I watch it with lethargic eyes. I've had a hard year-- Matthew's made it better. he can read me like a book, and he listens like I've got all the answers in the world. I love him. and when I head to the kitchen to slice the cake, he follows me with his arms around my waist. we move like two people who have been together a long time, like we can anticipate the next person's movement down to the flicker of their eye contact, down to their step.

"I can't believe you have room for dessert." I grab a knife from the drawer, along with some plates. Matthew kisses my head.

"I've got room for multiple desserts."

"was that a sexual allusion or are you actually hungry?" I turn briefly to gauge his behavior. if he hasn't had enough to eat, I'll feel horrible. but he leans down to my ear. it still sends a shiver down my spine.

"definitely sexual," he smirks, then retreats. "let's do this, though, first. I want a piece of Rumple's eyeball."

"just get out the candles so I can do this for you." I push him away. he heads to the cupboard and returns with the pack of candles that I begin to spear into the cake. I only put in ten because there's not room for forty-one, but he doesn't seem to mind as I light them up individually.

"go sit down! you weren't even supposed to come in here." I laugh as I lift the dish into my arms and shoo him into the other room. Matthew gives me a sidelong look, smiling for an unknown reason, before following my orders.

he pretends to look surprised when I bring the thing out to him, mouth making a pleased O shape.

"wow!" he cheers.

"make a wish, then, my love." I tell him. he inhales deeply, then blows out the candles. one or two stragglers remain, their flames flickering before he tries again and snuffs them out. I clap my hands.

"happy birthday, baby!"

he grins at me and starts to pluck the candles out of the cake. "you didn't sing to me." he says.

"trust me, that was a gift in itself." I laugh before picking up the knife. "how big a slice do you want?"

Matthew seems to think for a second on this, squinting as he examines the thing.

"big."

"alright then." I cut an enormous hunk out, making sure to get one of the maddened eyeballs on it before sliding it onto the plate and giving it to him. "enjoy."

"oh, I will." before I can move to sit across from him, he reaches out and pulls me into his lap. I let out a surprised noise, but settle in anyway on his thigh while I cut my own slice of cake. we eat together.

"it's actually pretty good." I'm impressed with myself. sure, it's not a super complicated recipe. but I still did well. Matthew wraps his arm around my waist, one hand holding his plate while the other digs the fork in.

"it's amazing." he nods through a mouthful of food.

"how's the eye?"

"how you'd expect a vitreous humor to taste." he jokes, laughing as I elbow him in the ribs. "ow!" he complains. I swipe some of the frosting off the top of his slice and tap it over his nose. he wrinkles it at the sensation.

"maybe I'll just leave." I move to get up, but he keeps me in place. his little smile, so determined in its happiness, makes my heart soften. for all of his teasing, he's weak for me, and I love it. when I lean down a little to lick the icing off, he blushes.

"when can I have you?" he asks quietly, one hand resting on the top of my bare thigh. it tightens around my skin, growing more aware of my presence in his lap. I bite my lip and mull this over, subtly draw the hem of my dress up a bit just to tease him.

"I'm thinking..." this time, he lets me get up. my fingers slide through his, dragging him with me. "now."

Matthew gets an excited grin on his face before I spin around and lead him to the bedroom. a couple candles are burning, filling the room with a deep, sensual smell that he inhales as he stops in his tracks.

"did you put rose petals on our bed?" he chuckles, staring at me with his eyebrows raised in an adoring expression. I run my palms up his chest, stopping below his shoulders. I poke my tongue between my teeth as I smile.

"yes, I did."

"very romantic."

"is it?" I lift an eyebrow. it takes everything in me not to pounce on him right then.

"consider me seduced."

"if you ever use that word again, I'm calling this off." I laugh. he silences it in a kiss, eagerly gathering my body up in his arms as he tilts his head to deepen it. a slight moan slips through me, pleased with the gentle, innocent pleasure he elicits. he's softer than velvet. when he crushes the silk of my dress in his fist, lifting it over my ass so he can touch me without barriers, he groans.

"did I pay for this?" he rolls the fabric between his fingers.

"mhmm." I hum.

"good." his breath hitches when the zipper comes down easily, the garment falling to the floor and leaving me in brand new black lingerie. his eyes move hungrily over my body, pupils dilating further as he takes in the curves of my figure.

"this is new."

I twist around a bit, showing him the back as well, his grip on my waist loosening only to allow me this movement. "you like it?"

he groans. "I love it."

I want to start undressing him, greedy for the sight of his naked body, but he reaches down and lifts me into his arms, my legs wrapping around him while he carries me to the floral-covered mattress. I sink into a rosy paradise, almost give into the alluring sensations he causes with his fingertips over my skin.

he's between my legs, teeth seeking out collarbone and the swell of my chest. it would be so, so easy to remain here, pinned down and allowing him to let loose on me. every deliberate shadow on my body is like a sunburst. but I can't.

I grab his shoulders and yank him down next to me. he peers at me with a smile, wondering what I've got in store. the answer is too loaded to fit into one sentence, so I watch him move up the bed until he's resting his head on the pillow, my legs moving to straddle him.

"taking control?" he questions. he knows I don't usually like to be on top. instead of replying, I reach behind me and undo the clasps of my bra, sliding it from my arms before tossing it somewhere else. his eyes widen and he goes to grab at my tits, but I'm too quick. I lean down, unbuttoning his shirt and drawing my nails over his chest as I lower myself to his pants.

Matthew is silent, open-mouthed at the red marks I leave behind on his smooth skin. it's intoxicating for me, too, and I work quickly to tug his bottoms down his legs, the boxers with them. when his dick is released, I let him struggle through a moment of no contact.

"let me touch you." he goes to stroke himself. my gaze flickers between the length he's now gripping in his hand and the needy look on his face. I want to fuck him right now. every cell in my body aches for him, for the pleasure that so violently rips through my veins when he's inside.

"not yet." I betray myself, and his hips buck into empty air when he sees my torso so close to his erection. when I drop my head and lick up the underside, he lets go of himself and allows me to tease him. I pause at the tip, then hold the base while I spit on it.

"shit!" he grunts as I start to swirl my tongue around him. his fingers run through my hair. "suck on it, baby."

all I do is moan, the vibration torturing him. I peek up through my lashes and see the veins in his neck throbbing while he resists the urge to fuck my mouth. I soften and lower my head slowly, inch by inch swallowing his cock. he hits the back of my throat. the slight gag that runs through me makes him sigh. it's then that I tap his hand as our signal to push my head down.

Matthew loses it. he starts to shove my mouth onto him, fucking it, one hand reaching behind him to grab the top of the headboard while he groans.

"choke on it... fuck." he moans. there are tears in my eyes from the pressure, but I keep looking at him the whole time. he's gorgeous, mouth dropped open in ecstasy while he goes between rolling his eyes into the back of his head and staring with an intense desire.

every time I gag, he lets out an unholy noise and gets excited all over again, his hips moving to meet my lips until he's on the edge of falling apart. his cock twitches and I moan, but he's not willing to finish.

"get over here so I can fuck you." his voice is borderline raspy as he forces himself to release my head. I sit up and wipe the spit from my mouth, crawling on top of him again to leave some of my favorite marks on his neck. he's mine. every bite stands to prove it, and his quick breaths let me know that he's not going to wait much longer.

his fingertips hook in the waistband of my panties and he pushes them down my thighs, purses his lips while he watches me shimmy out of them. it's wonderful, seeing the disarray in his face whenever he catches sight of my naked form. he never knows where to touch first, moving over my breasts to my waist and hips down to my legs. like he's trying to blend our bodies together by simply drinking me in.

I tense when he reaches out and sinks two fingers into me. I'm so wet, it takes almost no pressure.

"fucking soaked, huh?" he smirks. my hands steady themselves on his shoulders as he starts to pump in and out of me. I groan.

"get inside, please." I murmur nearly incoherently. he starts to go faster, his cock throbbing against his stomach. but he wants me to squirm and beg.

"oh, so you've got demands?" he teases. his fingers curl in my pussy, brushing over my special spot, and I almost gasp at the pleasure. "after making me wait?"

"I just--" I start to defend myself, but it's fruitless. he guides my face down to his, whispering in my ear.

"let me guess: you just wanted me to have a good birthday?"

"yes." a choked, desperate reply.

"let me show you what kind of present I want, then." he removes his fingers and lines himself up at my entrance, pushing me all the way down before sliding the pads of his digits into my mouth. I lick them clean while I moan. his cock is so deep inside me, I can barely breathe.

the combined pressures between my hips and on my tongue, make me give up on drawing this out. it feels so good, I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to. I rise up a bit and sink onto him again, his jaw clenched at the sensation. he lets me do this a couple times and then pauses my actions.

"get on your hands and knees." he orders. I lift myself obediently, whining slightly at the loss of contact, before he sits up and switches positions so that he's kneeling behind. I wait patiently for him to do what he wants with me. he doesn't disappoint.

softly, he pushes my head down so that my cheek rests against the pillow while he slides in from the back. it's a completely different angle and I can barely handle the way he works through the tightness, his moans louder this time.

"thought you could sit on it and I would just let you?" he chuckles darkly, pulling out and moving in. my breath rattles in my chest at the repeated, delicious intrusions. my eyelids flutter shut while he keeps talking to me in that commanding, low tone. "you're my little slut."

the moan that comes from my lips is pathetic, like a mewl. he plows into me and my face presses into the mattress.

"such a perfect little pussy," his hands lure my hips to him while he groans at the new depths he keeps finding. "so responsive for me."

"faster, Matthew." I whine. although he's not going slow, I need more. the slam of his body against mine, from this angle, creates just short of enough friction for my clit. he follows my request, however, and fucks me at an insatiable pace.

"you like that?" he grunts. I literally don't have the mobility to nod, so I shove my ass back instead to take more. he bucks. "you feel so fucking good."

I whimper and he starts to stimulate my clit by reaching around, lowering himself a bit to do so. he keeps his arm pressed to my stomach so he can feel the bulge of his cock sliding in and out of me. "good girl. take it."

my fingertips fist the sheets and I whine as my orgasm approaches. he switches the pattern of pressure, finding what makes me fall apart fastest. I'm on the edge, my mouth dropping open in a silent cry. my hips start to move on their own, working against his cock as I moan his name and tumble into the abyss.

"Matthew, right there-- fuck me, fuck me--" I moan. he rams his hips so hard, the headboard slams the wall and he groans.

"you're gonna make me break you, baby." he warns. I bite my lip so hard that I almost puncture the skin, feeling like a planetary collision is occurring within my lower stomach. I'm coming up on a second climax.

"break me, then." I dare.

Matthew wraps his arm around my chest and brings me up so that I'm leaning against his chest while he whispers in my ear. "defiant little whores don't get my cum."

"but--" I complain, hips wriggling for more while he thrusts into me.

"apologize or I'll stop fucking you right now." he slows just to demonstrate the torture of not being inside me. I grasp at his hips to coax him, but he's determined. I take a shaky breath at the smooth, slow movements.

"I'm sorry." I beg. he reaches down and starts to play with my bundle of nerves again. as much as he wants to make me crash, he loves the way this feels, too.

"mmm," he hums while laying sloppy kisses along my neck. "good thing I wanna fill you up for being so sweet today."

his thrusts are uncontrolled and needy, rapid pushes between my legs that cause me to start shaking all over again. he rubs my clit and moans in my ear, spilling.

"I love you so much." he mumbles. the hand holding me to him squeezes one of my tits while I arch my spine and enjoy the slowing pace of our bodies. I moan his name.

"I love you, too." I'm in awe of how he changes for me, his attitude shifts whenever we're in bed. it's cosmic, how we fit together. and his withdrawal from my body causes both of us to collapse onto the bed with exhaustion.

I can only suck in air for a while. my limbs are like lead, in the best way.

"that was hot." he mutters. I turn to him, admiring his beautiful features, and nod lazily.

"a successful birthday, then?"

"after that cake? yeah." he scoffs jokingly and I giggle before curling into him. he traces his fingertips down my skin. "do you wanna take a shower?"

"I'm so tired." I groan. Matthew glances at me.

"I'm the one who just turned forty-one."

"shut up."

"come on, then. let's get you cleaned up."

he rises from the mattress, bringing me with him. a few stray rose petals flutter onto the ground.

[desthesleepdeprivedwriter]

Happy Birthday

It was 3 am, and Purpled wasn't able to sleep.

He was quietly sitting in his room, petting DogChamp while he was sleeping. Purpled eyes couldn't stop staring at the date showing in his communicator, a strange feeling slowly consuming him.

7th of July.

Purpled's birthday.

He sighed, deciding to do the same he did every year: get a small cupcake, place a match on it, and eat in the early morning. It wasn't a big deal, really.

He left his little tent, heading over towards the restaurant in Las Nevadas. It wasn't open for the public yet, but it was the only place they could have access to a proper kitchen. Purpled opened the Staff Only door, hearing the strange banging of pans and someone whispering swears. Probably another resident trying to have a night snack, Purpled couldn't blame them at all. He stepped in and stopped right away.

Well, he didn't expect to see Fundy in an apron, mixing something in a bowl and an immense mess around him.

"Uh… what are you doing here?" Fundy asked, immediately noticing Purpled's presence.

"What are you baking?" Purpled asked back, not wanting to answer.

"I asked first." Fundy replied, crossing his arms.

Purples sighed, no patience for that at the moment. "I just came here to eat something. Now, you go."

Fundy's ears twitched a little before pressing against his head. "I'm… baking a cake." He muttered, going back to mixing the ingredients.

Purpled, for a split of second, got happy with the info, but quickly dismissed it. No way it could be for him, just one person knew his birthday and Fundy certainly wasn't him.

Purpled noticed orange and green food coloring placed on the table, curiosity now flooding in. "So, did you just get a craving for cake in the middle of the night?" he played as a joke, going back to his search for a single cupcake.

"Nah, man… it's my birthday." Fundy replied, still talking in a low voice.

"No way!" Purpled said before he couldn't contain himself, getting himself into a mess as soon as Fundy stared at him, confusion all over his body language.

"What do you mean by 'no way'? It's not like being born on July 7th was a crime."

Purpled pondered his answers.

He could lie, say he didn't expect it, or that Fundy shouldn't bake the cake for his own birthday, or any shitty lie like that.

"It's my birthday too." It's what came out.

Fundy's eyes widened, then a smile appeared, to Purpled's surprise.

"Dude, that's neat!" Fundy said, now moving towards the cabinets in search for something. "Your favorite color is purple, right?" He stopped for a while, and then went back for the search. "Oh Void, that was a stupid question."

Purpled was still in place, watching as the fox picked a purple food coloring and went back to the cake making, adding more ingredients. "I just need to make more batter so we can have more cake, but it will be fine."

"Wait, wait… what are you doing?" Purpled approached Fundy, watching as he divided the dough into three different recipients. "Our birthday cake." He replied, pouring each food coloring into a different bowl and starting to mix.

"So… the colors represent us?" Purpled asked, just so he could be on the same page.

"Yep."

"Orange is you, purple is me."

"Yep."

"So, who is the green one?"

Fundy went silent for a while, and then opened a sad smile.

"Back before the revolution, when it was just us in a van… we didn't have so much money for food." Purpled didn't get the connection, so he kept waiting. "So, there couldn't be two cakes at my and Tubbo's birthday."

Fundy put each batter into a different cooking pan, putting one into the oven.

"So, Wilbur would bake a single cake, two layers, one orange, the other green." Fundy smiled a little, nostalgic. "It became a tradition, even after L'Manberg came to be."

He decided to use the other ovens in the kitchen, placing the other cooking pans.

"Each year, we had our birthday together, no matter what. Even if we were angry at each other, or we had to hide from the big bad dictator. One time, I had to enter his presidential office to force him to take his head out of the papers."

Purpled just listened in silence, quite in awe. Fundy was really someone that had lived through a lot, and somehow, still held on to little comforting traditions. It must be nice, having something like that.

"But… since L'Manberg has been gone…" Fundy sighed. "I kinda haven't celebrated my birthday. I decided to try this year." He laughed quietly. "And hey! This time I have you! It's not so pathetic."

Purpled chuckled, nodding along. "Well, it's the first time I celebrate my birthday with another person. It's not pathetic."

Fundy beamed, still in a good mood, and took the cakes out of the ovens. He waited for a little while, staring at Purpled, who just stared back. "Don't you think you are going to just watch. Come here and help me."

Purpled shrugged, taking a place right beside Fundy. They stacked one cake over the other, and started to decorate.

Minutes later, they had a somewhat pretty cake.

"It works." Fundy says, after thinking a little.

"It's the first time I decorate a cake, so it's beautiful."

"Eehh… At least it will taste good. It has chocolate." Fundy pointed out.

"Aren't foxes allergic to chocolate?"

"Irrelevant ."

They finished the icing and contemplated their creation before Fundy grabbed the plate, leaving the kitchen and hoping that Purpled would follow him, which he quickly did, even if he didn’t know where.

“If I ask where are you going, will you asnwer me?”

“I mean, it’s not only our birthday, is it?” Fundy contemplated as they passed the toll booth, making Purpled think a little. Yeah, it wasn’t only their birthday.

“Hey, so… Can I call someone else?” Purpled asked, communicator in hand already.

Fundy didn’t even finish saying yes and Purpled was already typing someone’s name into his contact info, waiting for just a few seconds until the other person answered his call.

“Punz? I need you to come over. Now.”

Meanwhile, Fundy was standing in front of a wall of lava. The heat was almost uncomfortable and was definitely unwelcoming. But Fundy had to come back home before Yogurt woke up, so he had a schedule to fill.

“Yo, Tubster!”

No replies.

“Cut the scene, I know you are there!”

Still no replies.

“I can literally see your shiny armor on top of the outpost, you idiot!”

Seconds of no answer, and then the lava started to go down. And so there he was, Tubbo Underscore, with the entire glory of someone who hasn’t slept in the last 2 days. Fundy knew that look pretty well.

“Why do you have a cake?”

Not a hello or good night. But Fundy was used to that.

“Do you know what day it is today?”

“Uuuuh…… Juuuuuunee..?”

Fundy waited to see if Tubbo was joking, all that was left it was silence.

“Tubbo…. That’s a month.”

“But it's the right month.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Are you sure of that, boss man?”

Fundy just stared, kinda worried for Tubbo, cake still in hands. “Today is July 7th.”

“Hm…”

They just stood there, Fundy being able to see the cogs turning in Tubbo’s head. Finally, it clicked. “Oh fuck! Today is July 7th!”

“Yes it is!”

“It’s our birthday!”

“Yeah!!!”

“Holy shit… I haven’t celebrated it since…”

Tubbo shut, eyes unfocused. Since L’Manberg was done. Since last time, at a tiny office with the height of presidential work on his shoulders.

“I know, I haven’t either.”

They faced each other again, and it was different now. It was a look that only them could have, suffering all of that. The cramped days at the van, L’Manberg, Schlatt, New L’Manberg. They could say something about it, some apologies, some “I missed it”, but they weren’t like that.

“I have a couple of cookies and regen potions at the back. Want me to get a couple of them for us two?” Tubbo smiled a little, trying to get back to their old routine.

“It's us three. There’s another birthday boy outside.”

“Wait, who?”

Purpled conveniently walked towards Fundy’s side, giving Tubbo a little wave. “Make it four, actually.” He showed the communicator. “I called Punz, also a ‘birthday boy’” He made quote marks in the air.

“Why do so many of us have the same birthday?” Fundy asked to no one in particular. Tubbo just shrugged, but Purpled had something to say about it.

“I mean, it’s not my actual birthday. I have no idea of when my birthday would be in this world.” He casually said, antennas slightly glowing in the night. “So, I just decided to snatch Punz’”

“Dude, I wish it was this easy to change birthdays.” Tubbo said, thinking. I’d change to something like…”

“4/20.”

“Fundy, you’re a genius”

“I know.”

Purpled smiled a little listening to them talking. It was comfortable, somehow, being part of something like that, even for one night. “I should have gone for 10/10” He added to the talk, taking out some blocks and starting to build a little desk for them to place the cake, outside of both Las Nevadas and the Cookie Outpost. Tubbo laughed, thinking about other funny birthdays while automatically helping. Fundy placed the cake on top of the desk, just staring.

“Wait. We have orange, purple and green. What’s Punz’ color?”

Purpled thought about it, but Tubbo already had a solution “The icing is white. He is white. Solved.”

“I’m what?”

Punz appeared out of nowhere, probably from an enderpearl. “You’re white, like the icing.” Tubbo explained.

“Also, you’re a birthday boy.” Fundy helped.

“There’s four of us” Purpled finalized.

Punz just stared at all four, letting out a sigh and taking off his armour. "Really, Purpled? I thought you were in trouble.”

“I’m never in trouble, you should be smarter than this.”

“You just… decided to throw a party?”

Purpled shaked his head, pointing towards Fundy. “It was his idea.”

Punz looked at the other two, they were arguing over the number of candles. Fundy wanted to put only four, Tubbo wanted to put as many as it could fit. For a moment, Punz could see two different people there, fighting over stupid shit as a third one just stared, amused. It was so familiar, but so different. It hurt.

“But hey, you don’t have to stay if you doesn’t wa-”

“Get me a chair, it’s free food.”

Purpled smiled, a real one for once, and gave him a chair.

The four of them sat on the table, Fundy being the one to stood up after finally settling with a normal amount of candles on the cake.

“Ok, now we sing.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We ain’t singing, bossman”

“It’s sad if it's for ourselves.”

“It’s not??”

Purpled saw this banter would drag until sunrise, so he picked a bottle, catching everyone's attention.

“Lets keep it simple, boys. Happy Birthday to us.”

Punz gave him a small smile back, grabbing a potion for himself. “We made it through another year, what a win.”

Tubbo laughed to himself, joining the toast. “Still one life left, gotta keep like that until next year.”

Fundy was the last one, a grateful smile on his face. “Glad we have each other this time.”

“If the cake is good, I will come to next year’s party.”

“So it was nice meeting you, Punz.” Tubbo joked, making the rest of the table laugh a little.

And there they stayed until the sunrise slowly appeared in the distance, bathing them in a golden, lazy light.

“Damn, this was fun.”

“Not the best cake, but I’ll come back.”

“Fuck off.”

Tubbo was asleep on the table, finally able to relax. Fundy poked him, with no reaction.

“I can carry him inside, don’t worry.” Punz guaranteed, getting up.

“Thanks man, I have to go before my kid wakes up.” Fundy smiled, getting the empty cake plate.

“You have a kid?”

“Yeah, his name is Yogurt and that gremlin needs to be kept on a leash.” Purpled interrupted, earning a weak slap from Fundy. “Shut up, my kid is not a gremlin, he has just a lot of energy.”

Punz laughed, picking up Tubbo like a sack of potatoes, still with no response. “Thanks for the party, guys.”

Fundy smiled back, waving. “Happy birthday, Punz.”

“Happy birthday, boys.”

And they walked in opposite paths.

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

Taglist!

@a-wild-rosette @fishjuice @blipblipimafish @thenerdistrying @beepboopgalaxies (bc i know u like my writing for some reason) @geminisync (bc i want ur clout) @oakskull (bc if i press u enough u will read it <3)

[dragonseattofu]

NekuShiki question time! :)

Tell us about one of their vacations they went on together!

Any funny/silly headcanons you want to share?

Who would propose to the other and how?

Hey Anon, so let me start off with saying how completely honored I am to have someone interested in my headcanons. I was honestly so shocked and you literally made my day so thank you. Please see bottom for notes. Now to the ask,

Vacations

My idea for right after the first game, before A New Day and before NEO, is that the gang would all have a typical beach vacation. Some place local, since these kids are still teens, and they are all typically broke. Eri would be along for the ride too because Shiki wouldn’t travel without her best friend, and also because Eri would just invite herself. Even if Eri trusts and loves Rhyme, she definitely doesn’t trust the boys to be alone with her cute best friend on a weekend trip.

They take the train to the beach, and it’s time to get changed. Eri picked out a bathing suit for Shiki, that’s not exactly revealing but less conservative than Shiki would have liked.

“I can’t wear that! Is that the only one you brought me?” Shiki’s voice raised in a panic.

“Shiki, it’s really not that bad. It’s a tankini and it will look cute on you!”

Her insecurities were screaming at her. No way could she go out in public wearing that! The top is practically see through!

“Eri, this may look cute on other people, but not me. I-I can’t pull this look off, I’m not —”

“Are you girls okay in there?”

They both turned to the closed door. The changing room is open air, so even though Neku couldn’t see anything, he could hear everything.

“Shiki, I have an idea. Is there anyone else inside?”

“No, why?”

“Eri, come guard the door.”

“Neku, if you think I’m going to let you into the girls changing room —“

“I’ll keep my eyes closed, I just need to give Shiki something.”

“I could just —“

“Just come to the door, Eri. Shiki, put the swimsuit on, I’m not going to look.”

“But!”

“I’m tying something around my eyes, I’ll be quick.”

He heard some shuffling and the door opened. Eri guided Neku into the room, and once inside she shut the door. Shiki touched his elbow to let him know where she was, and he offered her the cloth he was holding.

“What are you?”

“Just turn around.”

She did as he asked, and he draped his short-sleeved cotton shirt over her shoulders, trying very hard not to touch her bare skin, even if he thought otherwise.

“My shirt’s long enough to cover pretty much all of you, and you can’t enjoy the beach if you’re feeling self conscious about your swimsuit. You’ll get there one day, even if that day may not be today.”

The UG gang knew how low Shiki’s self confidence was, and even though Eri was very attentive to Shiki’s needs, sometimes her methods of getting Shiki to own herself weren’t always the best. The seamstress was getting better every day, but when she is with her best friend, who looks great in a bikini, those feelings she once had still linger. Some things just take more time and Neku wanted Shiki to have fun today, without having to worry about what she looked like.

He couldn’t see the smile she was wearing, or the blush of her cheeks, but he heard her sigh of relief.

“Thanks Neku.” He stayed with her as she finished getting ready, which wasn’t very long, and sooner than later, Shiki took Neku’s hand to guide him back out of the room. When the coast was clear thanks to Eri’s watchful eye, the pair walked into the sunshine and only then could Neku see Shiki, who was in his shirt that was flowing around her loosely, buttoned only around her waist, her green two piece swimsuit still modestly visible.

Leave it to Shiki to find a way to make a simple shirt look fashionable.

And for Neku, who was a little awestruck, claiming the sun made his face flush, smirked to himself as Eri complimented Shiki on her new look. She looked perfect in his shirt.

Cute/Silly head cannons

Neku living with Shiki, and she’s so busy she doesn’t really cook for herself/eats unhealthy. He’s straight up appalled. So he teaches himself how to cook and essentially turns into a domestic househusband. Cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, feeding Mrs. Mew (her black cat that she adopted when Neku was in the UG) etc. When the kiddos (twisters) come over, Neku’s in the kitchen while Shiki entertains for a bit, brings them all tea wearing an adorable apron, and kisses her on the check before setting the serving plate down in the kitchen to come back and join everyone. I long for domestic fluff.

Proposal

I feel like Neku would totally try planning out this creative and artistic proposal, his kiddos would be dying to help him out. Shoka would go nuts making sure her mentor got the most gorgeous proposal setting, she would grumble as Fret tried to help out in an most exaggerated way, and Rindo would try to prevent Shoka from killing Fret who she finds is ruining his plan. Neku would just let them be as long and they weren’t doing anything dangerous, and he agreed that a girl who changed him for the better AND waited for his return after three years did deserve the best. When push comes to shove and it’s about to happen, the twisters and the original crew watching (and recording) them, Neku gets so nervous he ends up messing up, but Shiki totally understands what he’s saying and she pops the question. And it’s kind of like Amity and Luz from the Owl House.

Neku’s looking everywhere but at her, and Shiki can tell he’s so nervous that he’s starting to stutter. She finds it funny that this once emo teen turned into a suave young adult was now reduced to a bumbling mess. “What I’m trying to say is —”

“Will you marry me?” Shiki interjected, reading his mind. She’s so excited that she could burst.

He was relieved that it’s out in the open, but disappointed it was not he who popped the question he had prepared so long for. He’s pouting but also smiling as he whines, “Ah no, I was going to say it.”

Shiki giggles like a schoolkid as she waves her hand in the air to placate him, “okay, okay, go ahead.” In an attempt to take his pending question more seriously, Shiki bit her lips together, but couldn’t fight the corners of her mouth lifting upward in a goofy grin.

He bent his right knee onto the pavement, took her hands in his, looked her in the eye and breathed out, “Shiki Misaki, will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

He had 0.1 seconds to kiss her before he’s mauled to the ground by their friends. Eri and Shoka grabbed Shiki, screaming so loudly it drew the attention of commuters all around them. He has to calm them down so he can put the ring on his fiancee’s finger, a mere afterthought that after all the suffering everyone in the group has gone through, they all have something amazing to celebrate.

Note: I’m sorry this reply is so late, but I wanted to think about what to say and I ended up writing little ficlets for you, so I hope you can forgive me! And thank you again for prompting me, I find it hard to write sometimes and this really encouraged me to write more. If you, or anyone else likes these, please feel free to send me more prompts, I might even make a ficlet collection on Ao3 if anyone is interested!

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 73, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

STORY WARNINGS: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering

First rewritten reworking 07/03/2023

Second rewritten reworking 11/15/2024

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1022

Peter was tugging a shirt onto me when his phone went off. He picked it up and answered it without checking the caller ID. “This is Peter.”

Hello, Peter Steele? My name Melody Swan, Connie asked me direct Type O Negative’s music video Kiss Me Death, the voice on the other line said.

 “Hello, Melody,” Peter greeted the woman on the other line.

 Want meet up and talk about music video? Melody asked.

 “Sure,” Peter answer between kissing my cheek. “Give me a time and place and I’ll see if I can work it into the schedule for today.”

 As Peter was hashing out plans to meet with the new director, he picked me up and carried me out to the couch, where he gently placed me, taking care to cover me with a soft green blanket.

 Peter, what are you doing now my love? I tried to speak only to have my words not out so I instead grabbed onto Peter’s hand and looked at him pleadingly.

 He chuckled and knelt next to the couch to placed his hand onto my stomach, batting Mittens away as she approached to attack her daddy.

 “I’m going to go and heat up something for us to eat,” he hummed, kissing me behind my ear before standing to his massive height and sweeping into the kitchen.

 I could hear him, singing softly as he bustled around in the kitchen, calling out to me to turn on the TV if I wanted to.

 “Is it alright with you if I plug your TV into my Disney+ account for us to watch something?” I called out, finally regaining use of my voice.

 “Sure,” he called out, coming out of the kitchen wearing a frilly pink apron.

 “Peter, what the hell are you wearing?” I sniggered as he rolled his eyes.

 “Cathy always thinks it funny when I wear this apron to cook in the kitchen,” he grouched, flopping over into the seat next to me and pulling me into his chest. “What are we watching?”

 “You pick,” I answered, handing over the remote. He clicked over into my watchlist and zoomed in on Disney Pixar’s Brave.

 “Is this one any good?” he asked me.

 “I speak with a Scottish accent for the rest of the day following rewatching this movie,” I informed him, giggling at the look on his face. “You’ll understand when you’re watching the film.”

 ~xoXox~

 “That was such a good movie,” Peter beamed, taking my empty plate and bussing it into the kitchen.

 “It’s one of my favorites.” I winced at the Scottish burr that came out of my mouth.

 My soulmate chuckled as he began to wash the dishes. I stood up from the couch, blanket wrapped around me, and wandered into the kitchen, climbing up onto the counter next to the sink.

 “Fuck, you’re so adorable,” he chortled, taking a moment long break to kiss me.

 “I have my moments,” I droned, wincing again at the sound of my voice. “Why?” I buried my face in my hands as Peter’s laughter filled my ears. “Just… why?”

 “Sweetheart,” he crooned, tugging my hands away from my face and lifting my chin so that our jewel toned eyes met.

 “When I speak another language, I speak it with a very American accent,” I whined. “And so even then it’s like Da, sunt un American adevărat, viu.”

 Peter chuckled once more, placing another loving kiss onto my mouth before turning off the facet and turning his full attention onto me.

 “Mary-” KISS “Claire-” KISS “Bradley-” KISS “You-” KISS “Are-” KISS “So-” KISS “Fucking-” KISS “Precious.” KISS Peter kissed me in between every word as he stood before me, his arms wrapped around my shoulder, tugging me into his body.

 “I’m so happy you think so my love,” I drawled, cupping his cheeks with my hands and wrapping my legs around his hips, locking my ankles into the small of his back. “Ugh, I gotta kick this accent in the ass by the time we meet up with Melody!”

 “Nah,” Peter rubbed his nose at the mermaid behind my ear. “Keep it. it’s adorable.”

 “Easy for you to say, my love!” I huffed as he plucked a grape from the bowl and held it up to my mouth, clearly ordering me to eat. I obediently did as told to, my eyebrows furrowed crankily as Mittens weaved herself around her daddy’s ankle, purring up a storm as she sought out all the love and attention from her daddy and her mommy.

 PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR, she went as she supervised Peter’s actions around her unborn kitten.

 “My love, have you ever thought about getting some kittens for Miss Mittens to mother over?” I wondered as I finished chewing and swallowing. “It may help distract her from attacking you whenever you show attention to little girl.”

 “Yeah? You think so?” he asked me before seizing the fluffy cat and bringing her up for a quick little snuggle. “Well Mittens, what do you think? Do you want some kittens of your vary own?”

 MEOW

  Da, sunt un American adevărat, viu, Yes, I am a real, live American, Romanian

 TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

 If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

 PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01aa​

@rockstarslutt​

@angelxfuckk​

[niyes-lahiffe]

i am very much in a Djwifi Mood rn and you seem like the type of person to know djwifi fics so this is random but do you have any recommendations?

ALRIGHT ANON i’m gonna go all out on this one (and sorry for taking forever to respond sdjhskjgdh)

also these are (mostly) fics that i have READ and ive still got some in my to read so i’ll update this as i go :D

DJWIFI FIC MASTERLIST

to start, most of the things IVE written are djwifi (of course lmao)! just look through the “my fics” tag; i’ve also reblogged a bunch on my main blog @ultranimallover33 through the tag “fics”

tides also made a few recommendations you can find here and here!

Knighted by Thelastpilot (without a doubt my favorite fic tbh, written SO well, hilarious, nino and djwifi centered, princess and knight au, all the good stuff)

The Weight of Jade by Thelastpilot (haven’t read yet (for SHAME) but i already know it’s like the greatest story ever. absolutely iconic. (might wanna read Won’t Tell a Soul first tho))

Empty Chairs by Thelastpilot (good hurt/comfort based on an idea i love sO MUCH)

Butterflies by Risingmoon (definitely in my top 5 fave fics of all time it’s so SO cute)

Liveblog my Heart by sapphireluna (also very high on the fave list! it’s just!! so good!!!)

Starlit Conversations by InkJackets (another fave, i absolutely adore the perspectives and the slight angst it makes me HHHHH)

Cola Date by 3laxx (one of my absolute FAVORITES. i can read it any time and never be tired of it)

The Boy in the Green Jacket by Queen_BeeChloe (SO SO GOOD made me laugh so hard omfg)

You’re Still Here by tonguetiedcat (i adore this one omfg,, hilarious and adorable)

All’s Faire In Love And War by Kermode and RadamaZard (hilarious. excellent writing. renaissance fair!! everything amazing)

But I’m Weak by RadamaZard (my FAVORITE hurt/comfort fic i’ve read it so much and will continue to do so)

Peculiar Interests by myladyladybug (mermaid!alya befriending human nino what’s more to WANT)

kiss kiss (fall in love) by HiddenEye (one of the first ones i ever read. a hilarious classic)

Burst by melanshi (GAH i love the way this one is written. also made me ship rena x bubbler?? more likely than you think)

Kissing Booth by TiredHorse (Alya-centric, excellent djwifi at the end, funny classmate stuff. one of my faves)

How It Goes by Zaphirite (just dorks being absolute dorks)

If Only You Knew by scarslikeconstxllations (GOOD ANGST)

Operation Lovebirds by miraculous_me (yall FAKE DATING. CUTE AF ENDING. NEED I SAY MORE)

Phase Eight by miraculous_me (Operation Lovebirds sequel!! and it’s AAAAA)

Feeling The Sound by celestial_author (hilarious and so good,, made me feel things)

The Way You Smile by celestial author (SO SWEET I ALMOST GOT SICK)

I’ll Never Love Again by chatalyst (ANGSTY AF, I’LL NEVER FORGIVE U FOR THIS ANITA)

Go Back to Bed. You’re Sick. by CoffeeComicsGalore (lmao nino being a good bf and alya being a sassy sick lady it’s good stuff)

Bite Me. by Scarlet_Sea (Vampire!Alya?? HECK YEAH)

Withdrawl by Scarlet_Sea (cute phone conversations that make me squeal)

You’re Ethereal, Alya by an author that can’t be found :( (KISSES!!!)

racing through the dark by GuardianKarenTerrier (cute dorkiness that makes me ;0;;)

so this is love by pastisregret (ADORABLE CINDERELLA STORY OK)

Surprise Party by tbehartoo (hilarious and so sweet)

DjWifi FLUFF by Fandom_Trash (it is as it says, bro,, pure fluff)

i’ll be with you from dusk till dawn. by another unknown author (SO SWEET MADE ME CRY HHH)

Our Get Along Shirt by miraculousstorytelling (one of the funniest things i’ve ever read tbh)

All About Us by isyotm (collage au fluff let’s gooo!)

To Kiss or Not To Kiss? by claws-n-spots (aka nino being a giant dork, extremely good fluffy stuff)

Behind You by tinymacaroni (hhHNGHghngmhnfhghn...)

Hoodie Hoarder by PlaPla (gotta love these dorks)

For Once, Alya Let Him Be Cool by ramenrulz8P (PROPOSALLLLL)

Headphone Sharing, or How to Get a Date in a Foreign City by TakingOverMidnight3482 (gotta LOVE aus like this )

Knight in Shining Apron by 3laxx (hilarious. adorable. what else to expect from Toni’s fabulous writing?)

Late Night Talks and Forgotten Laptops by miraculart (another PROPOSALLLL +nino being an anxious bby)

A Place for Spring by yestomiraculous (written SO well and by golly the banter is amazing)

Candy by LoveGeek15 (more dorks being dorksss)

Blue Turtle by sagansjagger (slightly nsfw but SDJLGHSLDGH so funny like rip nino)

Twenty-Four Things I Love About You by HaydenFullwright (literally nino being a giant sap for 2800 words)

Trying by NotQuiteNerdy (actually havent read but ive only heard good things and i shall read it SOON)

Broken connection by cactus_con and Raging Flames by 3laxx are the ANGSTIEST stories i’ve ever read and both made me bawl uncontrollably

and ofc the christmas ones (there’s surprisingly a lot but theyre all so cute):

31 days of DJWifi by 3laxx (just a whole bunch of wholesome drabbles)

The best Christmas Present by 3laxx (SO FREAKIN CUUUTE HHNG)

Christmas Run by Their_Destinys_Writer (CUTE AF AND WRITTEN SO WELL)

DjWifi December... A Year Late by Capns_scrolls (good djwifi december fluffff)

Jingle All the Way by siderealSandman (an abolute MUST READ it’s so funny and i love the way it’s written)

He Loves Me by Thecrazydragonlady15 (aaa dorks being dorks)

Alya’s insomnia by Merricup (HHHNG CUTE FLUFF)

A Night on The Town by krzed (an incredible story that i love to read)

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

A Worst Cooks in America O’Knutzy AU

The Sweater Weather Discord group helped me come up with this idea like two months ago, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. All credit goes to @lumosinlove for her amazing characters!

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

Chapter 1: Don’t Go Bacon My Heart

The Day Before the Competition

Interviewer (off camera): Finn O’Hara and Logan Tremblay for their introductions.

Logan: * taps on microphone* Is this mic working?

Finn: How do you still not know how to work a mic? You deal with them all time.

Logan: I signed up to compete in a cooking show, not to deal with your chirps.

Finn: You love ‘em. *winks*

Interviewer: So basically all we want from you guys is a brief introduction for the viewers. I’ll ask some questions, but most of this should be you guys just talking. We can edit things out later, so don’t worry about anything like that. Why don’t you guys start with your names and careers and we’ll go from there.

Finn: Yo, I’m Finn O’Hara, and I’m a terrible cook. *finger guns* Although I guess that’s a given, seeing that I’m on this show.

Logan: *mumbles in French, head in hands*

Finn: This asshole – shit, no – fuck! Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be cussing. This is a family-friendly show.

Logan: Dear God, please stop talking. I’m Logan Tremblay, the unfortunate boyfriend.

*Finn pouts*

Interviewer: And you guys play hockey?

Logan: Yeah, we play in the NHL. Gryffindor Lions.

Finn: That’s how we met, actually. Through hockey. We played together at Harvard, then got drafted to the Lions about a year apart. We’ve known each other for eight years and have been together for three of them. Can’t seem to get rid of this one.

Interviewer: And you’re not worried about being rivals on this show?

Finn: Rivals is a strong word… I mean yes we’ll be competing against each other instead of being teammates, but we know going in that it’s not personal. Just a little healthy competition.

Interviewer: So what made the two of you sign up for this show?

Logan: We didn’t. Our teammate Dumo and his wife Celeste did. They thought it would be funny. *pause* They’re probably right.

Interviewer: Out of the two of you, who is the worst cook?

*Finn and Logan point to each other*

Logan: You can’t be serious.

Finn: You once cooked pasta so much that it turned into literal paste!

Logan: You tried to cook pizza rolls in a toaster.

Finn: That’s what it said in the instructions!

Logan: It said toaster oven, you - *more French*

Finn: English, Tremz. How many times do I have to tell you that? I guess we’ll find out once and for all who the better cook is by the end of the next eight weeks, right? *mouths “it’s me” to the camera*

Logan: Whatever, Fish.

Interviewer: I think we’ve got all we need guys, thanks. Start time for tomorrow is 10:00 am, but plan on being here forty-five minutes to an hour early to get ready. We’ll see you then.

Competition Day

“Are you nervous? I’m nervous.” Finn stated, running a hand through his hair and looking around at the studio they’d be in and out of for the foreseeable future. There were cooking stations everywhere and he could already see tools and machines that he had no clue how to use. There were twelve other contestants that he didn’t know and the crew scattered everywhere, running back and forth trying to get everything ready. “God, how am I sweaty already? Is this normal?”

Logan rolled his eyes but still reached over to grab Finn’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “Relax. It’s not so bad.” Finn smiled down at him, glad that they were at least here together. How in the hell did he get so lucky?

“Besides, you’ll be sent home soon enough. So don’t stress too much.”

Finn laughed. “Wow, I hate you so much right now.” He betrayed his words with a quick kiss. “You’re going down.”

Those green eyes flashed at the challenge, but right as he opened his mouth to respond-

“Good morning, recruits!”

All heads turned towards the voice. Three figures stood towards the front of the room: one they both recognized as the producer, who was flanked by who Finn assumed to be the chefs, seeing that they were wearing chef’s outfits. Chef’s uniforms? Did their uniforms have a technical name? Finn made a mental note to google that later.

Anyways, one was a short woman with dark ringlets tied back in a ponytail and an undiscernible expression on her face. The other was tall, blond, and had legs for days Jesus Christ-

“Welcome to your first day of boot camp! This is chef Dorcas Meadowes and chef Leo Knut; they’ll be your team leaders. We’re going to start with some footage of you all walking into the kitchen, so if you all would wait out there until you’re allowed to come back in. Cameras will be rolling, so be ready! After that, our chefs will explain the first challenge and then you’ll start cooking.” He clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s get this show started!”

“Why did they make us come in here just to send us back out?” Logan grumbled, following the other shuffling contestants out into the hall.

“Probably easier to give directions to the main studio instead of saying ‘hey, just wait out in the hall.’”

Logan hummed noncommittally. “I guess.” He wasn’t overly excited to be here; most of this (besides the initial push by Dumo and Celeste) was Finn’s idea. And god knows he could never say no to Finn. One look at that pout and brown puppy-dog eyes and he was done for. Logan didn’t like cooking, but he did like Finn. And they’d probably remember this for years to come. It didn’t matter what he was doing, as long as he was with Finn and making memories with him he’d do just about anything.

“Wonder what the first challenge is.” Finn mused, his eyes locked on the doors.

Logan laughed. “Always so impatient.”

“I’m a New Yorker,” Finn grinned, leaning into his accent. “It’s in my blood.”

The doors opened and contestants began filing back into the kitchen. Finn made sure to wave enthusiastically at the chefs with a wide smile. Logan noticed the tall one (god, he’d already forgotten the guy’s name) give a little wave in return as the other chef commanded the attention of everyone else in the room.

“Good morning, recruits, and welcome to boot camp! I’m chef Dorcas Meadowes, and this is chef Leo Knut. He’s the rookie of our crew, but don’t worry – he’s still qualified to teach all of you. Even though that’s not saying much.”

There was a smattering of laughter and chef Leo smiled, revealing dimples Logan could see from where he stood. “Hey, y’all. I’m very excited to see what makes all of you qualified to be put on this show. Who knows? Maybe you’ll give me more gray hair.” Dorcas laughed and ran her fingers through the tuft of gray hair at his temple.

“When did you get this? I don’t remember seeing it when we were in culinary school. Is it from Iron Chef?”

“Nah, this is from having Gordon Ramsay come to my restaurant.”

“Truly a terrifying man.” She shuddered. “Anyways, you guys be nice to this giant ball of sunshine. Even if he’s new, he’s still able to eliminate you from this competition.”

“In order to pick our teams, we need to see what kind of skills you have.” Leo winced. “Or don’t have. So today, we want you to make your favorite dish. Easy enough, right?”

“Oh god,” Finn murmured into Logan’s ear. “What’s my favorite dish? Do I even have one?”

“Finn.”

“You all have an hour to complete this task.” Dorcas said, glancing down at her watch. “And your time starts… now!”

“Fuck.” Finn stated emphatically, dashing off to the pantry.

Fuck was right. God, what was Logan going to make? He was wracking his brain for something while he grabbed two aprons from the back. He tossed one to Finn and took the station beside him before hurrying to the pantry. Chicken was always a safe bet, right? Celeste made a barbeque chicken recipe that was to die for. That couldn’t be too hard. It was just chicken and barbeque sauce. And maybe green beans on the side? He could get those canned ones and they’d taste fine if he rinsed them. This was fine.

He guessed on the temperature for the oven. 350 seemed good. Then he dumped two chicken breasts into a pan, poured the barbeque sauce over them, and put them into the oven.

“What are you making?” Logan startled at the soft voice, turning to see chef Leo at his station.

Blue eyes.

Logan blinked, Leo’s question forgotten. “Quoi?”

“You speak French?”

Why was his brain refusing to work all of a sudden? Get it together, Tremblay. “Uh, yeah.”

“What are you making?” Leo asked for the second time, but now it was in French. Weirdly worded French.

“Barbeque chicken.” Logan responded in French, then switched back to English. “What in the world was that?”

Leo flashed him a grin. “New Orleans, born and raised. We speak French there, too. Now tell me how you’re making that chicken.”

“Uh.” He had never said the word ‘uh’ so much in one sitting. Merde. “I put it in a pan, spread barbeque sauce over it, and I’m cooking it at 350.”

“How do you know when it’s done?”

Was this a trick question? It felt like a trick question. “Uh.” Fuck. “It has to get to a specific internal temperature, right?”

The chef nodded. “And what’s that?”

“145?"

Something in Leo’s expression flickered, but Logan couldn’t figure out what it meant. “Well, good luck. Logan, right?”

“Yeah.”

“See you at the judging table.” He said with a dimpled smile before moving to Finn’s station, which was already a mess. “Oh my. How are you doing over here?”

Finn laughed a bit hysterically. “Not good. Not good at all.”

“Ok. What’s going on?”

“Well I’m trying to make carbo’hara, and –“

“Really, Fish?” Logan called from his station. “That’s what you’re making?”

“What’s carbo’hara?” Leo asked as he watched Finn put bacon in a pan.

“Oh,” Finn waved a hand carelessly. “It’s just carbonara, but a pun on my name, O’Hara. Get it?”

Leo laughed, crossing long arms over his chest. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, but it makes me happy. My parents used to make it every night before my brother or I had hockey games.”

“Oh, that’s right. You guys are hockey players.”

“Go Lions!” Finn cheered, taking a spoonful of butter and throwing it into the pan with the bacon.

“Are you putting butter on bacon?” Leo asked with a raised eyebrow.

Finn responded with full confidence, “I didn’t want it to stick to the pan.”

“Ok. Got it. I… I look forward to seeing what you make.” Finn watched as Leo bit his lip and tried his hardest not to laugh.

Cute.

Finn felt his cheeks flush and blamed it on the steam from the pasta.

The last thirty minutes of the task were absolute chaos, but both boys got it done. Finn’s looked messy, which accurately summed up his cooking style. Logan was pretty proud of how his looked; he just hoped it tasted good. He gave Finn a smile and a fist bump. “Ready to be judged?”

Finn laughed, looking down at his plate. He grimaced. “Not really.”

“We’re all bad cooks. Chances are someone else’s dish is worse than yours.”

“That… actually helped. Thanks.”

***

 Finn was chosen to be judged before Logan. He brought up his plate with a sheepish smile and placed it on the table in front of the chefs. Dorcas raised an eyebrow while Leo prodded the pasta with his fork.

“It’s carbo’hara.” Finn stated with pride.

“Well, Finn…” Dorcas met his eyes. “This looks like a mess, but let’s see how it tastes.”

Finn cringed as they both took a bite of his food. Dorcas frowned as she chewed and Leo tilted his head, a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t know how you did it, but this solidifies in my mouth like glue.”

“Oh god, please don’t eat any more.”

“You definitely put a lot of effort in and you have a lot of potential,” Leo said with a small smile. “I think you were just a little too ambitious for this first round and it got away from you.”

“That’s fair. Thanks for the input.” Finn grabbed his plate and made his way back to his station. He wasn’t too upset by those reviews – he already knew he was a bad cook. But he had potential, so at least he had that going for him.

Logan grinned at him back at his station. “I can’t believe you served the judges glue pasta.”

“At least I’m not serving them canned green beans.”

“They taste just fine, thank you very much.”

“Lo, they’re professionals. You’re not getting away with something lazy like that.”

He definitely got in trouble for using the canned green beans. Dorcas looked down at them like they were worms. Leo gave him the ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ look, which was even worse, please don’t look at me like that.

“Canned food is a no-go, huh?”

“Definitely.”

“And this chicken isn’t cooked all the way.” Leo said, showing him the pink meat. “You said earlier that you’d cook it until it reached 145 degrees, but chicken needs to reach 165 at a minimum.”

“I’m sure it tasted fine, though.” Dorcas added. “You can’t really go wrong with pre-made barbeque sauce and chicken.”

Ouch. Logan grabbed his plate. “Right. Thanks.”

Finn was predictably cackling at his station. “Tremz, they couldn’t even eat yours. Celeste is going to be so disappointed in you.”

“Shut up.”

 ***

As soon as they were back into their hotel room, Finn kicked his shoes off and faceplanted into the couch. “I can’t believe that took so long.”

“Yeah,” Logan sat down and grabbed his take-out. “Who knew cooking all day would make us so hungry?”

Finn made grabby hands at the other food container. Logan laughed and handed it to him. “I haven’t been this hungry since playoffs, fuck.”

They ate in silence and were finished in record-setting time. Finn collected their trash and stood up to throw it away. “So blue team, huh? I’m kind of surprised they put us on the same team.”

“Me too. But Leo seems like a good teacher, so I’m glad we’re on his team.”

“Yeah, he seems so young, too.” Which sounded ridiculous to say; Leo couldn’t be that much younger than them. “If he’s already winning competitions and starring in cooking shows at that age, he must be pretty good.”

“Winner of Iron Chef America, Chopped, Guy’s Grocery Games…” Logan read off his phone with a low whistle. “He graduated culinary school early and opened his own restaurant a year later.”

“Damn.”

“There’s a video of one of his competitions on here.”

“Play it!” Finn said excitedly, flopping back down on the couch and peering over his boyfriend’s shoulder. Logan gave him a strange look. “What? Maybe we’ll learn something useful.”

“I think this is going to be way too complicated for us, but ok.”

So they sat on the couch watching cooking competitions for hours, learning skills and techniques that went way over their heads. Logan wordlessly switched to Leo’s cooking show Cajun Cooking, watching episode after episode of the blue-eyed chef teaching traditional New Orleans recipes.

Little did they know that halfway across the city in his own apartment, Leo Knut was watching Youtube highlights of the Gryffindor Lions, keeping a sharp eye out for number seventeen and number ten.

[weasleypogues]

newbie on set pt.2 (r.p)

so i got a lot of requests saying to do a part two so i hope u guys enjoy lol :) also!!!! i’m gonna put little twists on it here and there because it’s going to be like shes going into season 2 and sarah and john b are in the bahamas

read part 1 if you haven’t already :D

part 3 part 4

tag list for the series so far: ivebeenthinkingboutu nas-marie-loves-u k-k0129 

masterlist.

after a lot of preparation with fittings, readings, rehersals, and everything in between, you were finally shooting today. you and the cast had excitedly texted back and forth in the group chat but rudy made sure he also texted you on the side as he was eager to still get to know you.

you, madelyn, and madison sat in the makeup and hair trailer, gushing about the scenes you were shooting today and how excited you guys were to just be in south carolina and have fun like they did last year.

“did you see the tiktok i sent you?” madison asked madelyn, giggling and glancing at you because you were the once to convince madison to send it in the first place. madelyn glared at the two of you snickering, as she rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight back the giggle.

“yes! i did! i see them everywhere. ‘relax b john, i have a gutter, get you’re head out of the brother’ or ‘it’s not like i’ve never seen a gutter before, get your head out of your ass john b’, they literally fill up my page!” madelyn responded, laughing her ass off. you guys were referring to the hundreds of tiktoks that mocked that line in the first season. you threw your headback in laughter, tears coming out of your eyes. your hairdresser lola glared at you playfully and placed your head forward again because you kept interrupting her. you blew her a kiss in the mirror as a joke and she laughed.

“you guys are something else..” she trailed off, a huge smile upon her face. 

“are you nervous for today (y/n/n)?” madison turned to you and asked. you let your cheeks fill up with air before letting the breath out slowly, in deep thought. you hated to say it but you were literally terrified. you didn’t want to be the reason that a scene that should’ve taken maybe 60 minutes at most to shoot could take longer because you weren’t working to your full potential. “i’ll take that hesitation as a yes..”

“i just don’t wanna fuck up. like no one does, but if i did it on my first day it would be all i think about.” you responded, twidling with your thumbs.

“you did amazing at the table read and great at rehearsals, you’re gonna do great today.” madeyln smiled, reassuring you. “especially......because your first scene is with rudy today.” she smirked, sending a wink your way.

you felt your face grow hot and cowered in your seat slightly, but not enough that lola couldn’t continue working on your hair. you and rudy had been texting nonstop ever since you guys left the restaraunt after the first table read. you have to admit, he was very flirty but you always seemed to psych yourself out because you caught on that he was just an outgoing and friendly guy. but madison and madelyn snapped you back to reality that he wouldn’t play footsie’s with just anyone or constantly text them if it wasn’t something that crossed his mind. 

someone with an earpiece, walkie talkie, and clipboard walked onto the trailer saying that he needed you and madison for a scene. as sarah and john b were in the bahamas, you guys weren’t getting any scenes with them for a little while. you walked out of the trailer with string bracelets and other accessories practically covering your wrists, neck, and ankle to make you look more summer-y and pogue like. you walked towards where you guys were shooting a scene in the wreck and placed the apron around your body, talking to madison. 

“lady pogue! baby pogue!” you heard a familiar boy yell and you turned around to see rudy and jonathan. jonathan had on a green tshirt and grey cargo shorts, accessorized with a beaded necklace and a hat on backwards. you pulled him in for a hug first until he was pulled away suddenly. before you knew it, you were in rudy’s arms being given probably the best hug in the world. you giggled and looked up at him as you pulled away.

“you just couldn’t resist me, i get it.” you joked and raised your eyebrows. rudy laughed and let a smirk grow onto his makeup-bruised face.

“how’d you know?” he responded somewhat sarcastically. you rolled your eyes and pushed him away playfully, in doing so you admired his arms as he wore a white tanktop and backwards hat as well. 

“you guys ready to get started?” you all heard jonas yell out and you let out a deep, nervous breath and nodded. 

“you got this, (y/n).” madison reassured you, rubbing your arm lightly before the three of them got into their spots at a table at the wreck. you fixed your hair slightly, hiding your script from plain shot of the camera and tightened in apron that wrapped around your waist.

juliet walked towards the group of three pogues sitting at a picnic table at the wreck. she had just moved to the outer banks with her parents and brother for some business thing that involved her parents and real estate. however, whatever sum of money her family had didn’t stop her from finding a job and getting out to do her own thing. nick carrera was kind enough to give a sixteen year old girl with no restaraunt experience a shot at waitressing at the wreck. he said it wasn’t difficult and that his daughter, kiara, had fun. 

juliet had worked a couple of shifts with kiara and they had fun but juliet didn’t want to over step her boundaries. her next table to serve was kiara and her two friends, jj and pope? juliet couldn’t remember if that was their names or not. kiara had talked about them but said that it had been a couple of months since they’ve seen each other because they lost two friends at sea. juliet decided it was probably still a touchy subject and didn’t want to invade anymore in fear of upsetting kiara. 

however, kiara did mention that she had not seen pope or jj in a long time. juliet wasn’t sure if they had agreed to take some space or they drifted apart because of the lost friends. so when juliet saw kiara sitting at a table with two boys that fit the descriptions of her old friends, it clicked in her head. they looked like they were in a deep conversation and she thought maybe she should give them a second instead of interrupting them for a simple drink order. juliet shook her head to snap out those thoughts and walked up to the trio.

“hey kie, anything i can get for you guys to drink?” she built up the courage to ask, giving a small smile to the trio with her pen and paper in hand.

“just waters good for me, juliet. boys?” kiara started, sending a kind smile back to her. 

“same here.” pope brought up, fiddling with his fingers as it was clear they were in the middle of a deep conversation. juliet lowered her head to write on the paper and felt a wave of regret wash over her because she felt bad for interrupting the rekindling group.

“juliet? like romeo and juliet?” jj asked, looking at juliet with a small smirk on his face. juliet took a second to take in the fact that the blond kid in front of her face was bruised and cut up. he clearly fucked with the wrong people, probably kooks from old stories kiara had told her on break one day. juliet nodded with an awkward smile.

“like shakespeare intended.” juliet responded, fixing her hair slightly as a natural mannerism. 

“got a romeo? or do you want one?” jj replied with a wink. even in character, you felt your cheeks get hot because if you remembered the script correctly, that was not rudy’s line. he improvised. as you all played off that improvised line, kiara kicked jj from under the table which jj didn’t hesistate to flinch and rub his shin. “fiesty...”

kiara looked up at juliet, sending her an uncomfortable smile in a way of saying ‘sorry for him, he’s always this stupid’. “he’ll just take a water.” kiara flat out said because jj just failed to respond to juliet’s initial question.

“on the rocks!” jj joked to ease the awkwardness as juliet walked back towards the wreck to fetch them their drinks.

you heard the director yell cut and let your body somewhat relax from it’s on screen state and turned back around. “cute line, rudy! s’all you got?” you hollered over towards the trio, as you walked towards them. 

“c’mon, you gotta admit, that was funny. i had to make it a little more authentic!” rudy defended himself with his hands up. you rolled your eyes and shoved him slightly on the shoulder for almost messing you up on the first day if it wasn’t for the rest of the cast who played along so well. you let your elbow rest on his shoulder, exchanging a couple of words between madison, johnathan, and rudy in between takes. now you understood what all the hype was about.

---

after a long day at work, you packed up your backpack in your trailer, pulling your charger out of the socket. as you glanced around one last time, making sure you didn’t forget anything you heard a knock at your door. 

“come in!” you hollered out, although you didn’t let your eyes leave the surrounding areas.

“hey.” you recognized the voice as rudy’s and felt your heart flutter lightly and looked up at him. his rosy cheeks and messy blond hair almost made you melt on the spot.

“what’s up?” you asked, throwing your backpack over your shoulder and grabbing your phone. rudy took a couple of slow steps towards you and now you two were basically inches away from each other. 

“i was wondering if you were up for dinner tonight?” rudy asked, rubbing the back of his neck. he was clearly nervous, but for what?

“yeah i’m down! what do the rest of the group have in mind?” you responded, pretty obliviously. rudy let out a big breath because he thought he had gotten the hard part over with. 

“actually, i was thinking you could come around to mine and i could cook something....like y’know. just the....two of us?” rudy responded, his face slowly growing red as he avoided eye contact with you.

a huge smile grew on your face and you saw as rudy slightly relaxed himself as maybe this was a good sign. “like...a date?” you answered. you felt bad that maybe you were egging it on more and making him clearly more stressed but you needed that clarification for yourself.

“uh, that’s what i had in mind?” rudy stated, with his eyebrows raised. you lifted on your tippy toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. as you took a step back, you stared into his blue eyes and smiled.

“a date it is.” you answered. you never in your life thought that you would have the confidence to do that, so it wasn’t a surprise that your heart was racing fast and your hands felt sweaty.

you walked past him and opened the door to the trailer before turning back. “you coming or what?” you asked.

rudy did not even hesitate to follow after you.

[purplesurveys]

1407

Blank Survey #1

1. Do you have a dirty mind? Are you capable of turning just about anything into an innuendo? I don’t always have a dirty mind but it does come out, especially when joking around with close friends. I don’t think I could turn literally anything into an innuendo, but I think my mind is experienced enough to green-ify a bunch of topics if I feel like doing so haha.

2. Did you “sow your wild oats” during your college years? No, not my thing. I was in a long-term relationship throughout college and never had any issues with commitment or missing out.

3. When you were little, did you think that chocolate milk came from brown cows? I never did give a thought about where chocolate milk came from, honestly. All I cared about is that I liked it more than the normal milk.

4. What is something that you’re too chicken to do? Take a blood test, donate blood, get IV treatment, get a tattoo...anything that involves having my skin pricked, basically.

5. Are you a morning person, or do you need your coffee first? I definitely need my coffee first. Work-wise, I tend to be extremely all over the place, besides the expected crankiness, before taking my coffee.

6. What's your favorite wild animal? Elephants.

7. What’s the last thing you choked on? Either my own saliva or vaping, I can’t really remember.

8.  Have you lost a family member in the line of duty? Nope. I hope I’ll never have to.

9. What do you remember making in sewing class, back in the day? HAHAHA. Funny you should mention that...I hated being taught sewing and refused to submit anything. I remember how our big project that time was to finish an apron, and I just didn’t have the energy to do it; to this day, I still don’t know how I passed that class with like an 85. Obviously it’s not a high mark but I wonder what the basis for my final grade was when I didn’t even have anything to submit by the end of the class. I was a horrible middle schooler.

10. Have you ever lived on a farm before? Never have. I’ve always lived in gated villages which would be considered as the suburbs in different countries.

11. What scent is the hand soap that is currently in your bathroom? Not sure exactly what but it’s a floral-ish type of scent.

12. What is the softest thing you have ever touched? My grandma’s shih tzu, Gucci. She’s like touching cotton candy, but a million times finer hahaha.

13. What is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do? Leaving G in my past. I’ve lost best friends before due to distance and simply the natural need to move on with our own lives; but having to consciously leave behind a best friend because they hurt you and recognizing they’re harmful to you and every sense of your well-being is a billion times harder.

14. When’s the last time you had to use your toilet plunger? I’ve never had to use one.

15. Do you have any rings on your fingers? How many? What do they look like? No, not at the moment. I did buy this cute set of four rings a few weeks ago and had been really excited to use them, but it turned out nearly all of them were too big for my fingers and they easily slipped out.

16. Who was the last person to come over your house? Angela, Reena, and Hans.

17. When’s the last time you spent the night in a hotel? Around a month ago. OKAY SO I haven’t been able to write this down but our time in Zambales was such a trrrrrrip. So we stayed at this hostel in a sitio that apparently had power issues (we’re talking inevitable brownouts if there proved to be too many people in the area) and since we were there during a holiday weekend, there was unsurprisingly a ton of visitors. 

That meant that our second day was riddled with brownouts - and while I personally had no problem with that, it was too much for my co-workers who were on the trip with me lmao. Somebody in the group made the executive decision to check out even though we had one day left that was already paid for, and we drove off to Pampanga that very evening – the craziest thing is that we drove away not even having a place to stay for the night yet. By 10-11 PM we all arrived at Pampanga and settled at this shabu-shabu place first to regroup on whether we’ll push to look for a hotel/Airbnb at that late hour or to just proceed going back to Manila altogether. By 11:30 we found this 4-star hotel that managed to have free rooms enough for nine extremely tired 20- and 30-somethings, and we successfully got in our respective hotel rooms by like 1 AM hahaha. So much for being a trip for relaxation.

18. When’s the last time you slipped? What did you slip on? My dog’s pee. Yesterday.

19. When’s the last time you used the bathroom? I was there less than half an hour ago to wash my face.

20. When’s the last time you lent someone a hand? What did you help out with? My mom needed water so I got her a glass. Just now.

made by: @swanky-surveys

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

International Student

Meg Thomas x Rin Yamaoka

word count: 1579

summary: Meg goes overseas for college at a fancy university, which just so happens to be Rin’s university... and things get interesting when they wind up in the same restaurant ;)

a/n: college au. fluff and very minimal angst? this was originally posted on the DBD Amino back in June 2019. hope you like this little throwback!

masterlist

The first time Rin saw her, it was early in the morning. The sun was peaking over the horizon, and she was walking to her first class of the day. It was just a quick glimpse – a runner, charging past her, huffing and puffing, her stride smooth and swift. The sun framed the girl’s red hair and made it look as if it were on fire. Just a glimpse, just a glimpse. But Rin decided orange was her new favorite color. Not the bright orange like the mandarin, but the deep scarlet of a tiger lily, the kind her manager imported to add aesthetic value to the upscale restaurant.

The next time Rin saw her, it was late at night. She recognized the flaming red hair amongst a group of young people, all slender and with athletic frames, looking well-fed. She guessed the girl was on the track team from her university. They chattered amongst themselves as they walked through the door of the restaurant, the tinkling bell signaling their entrance.

Her coworker must’ve caught her staring, because she said, “Hey Rin, I’ve got to use the restroom, think you can take that group for me?” And winked at her before walking away. Rin cursed her coworker as she watched the host seat the group of athletes and look to her, seemingly saying, ‘get to work, girl’. Rin sighed to herself as she grabbed a notepad and a pen out of her pocket and walked over to the table, hoping to get it over with before she embarrassed herself.

Apparently, that wasn’t a possibility, as the first words that came out of her mouth were, “Hi beautiful… people! I’m Rin, and I’ll be your girlf- girl server today,” she emphasized server in hopes that no one caught her slip-ups, but could tell from the looks on everyone’s faces that they all caught them, “Can I start you guys off with some drinks?”

The entire table listed off what they wanted, until the ginger asked, “What would you recommend? I’ve never been here before.”

“I can’t afford to eat here myself, but if I could I’d get the redhead- I mean, the Red Lotus. I’ve stolen a sip of it before from a coworker’s drink, and I can tell you, nobody in town makes it like we do.” Seriously!? Rin thought to herself, brain, can you just, not embarrass me right now?

The redhead’s freckled face flushed red and her friends laughed, causing Rin to do the same. She whirled around and ran away, humiliated.

In the back room, Rin threw off her apron, shoved her notepad in her coworker’s face, grabbed her bag and fled out the back door.

“Ah shit.” The redhead said as she got up, her teammates guffawing at the commotion her very presence had caused.

“Better go hit that, Meg!” One of the guys joked, at which she turned to face him, eyes blazing even more than her hair.

“It’s not fucking funny, and if you learned to run as fast as you talk, we wouldn’t have lost our last meet! So please, shut the hell up for once in your life.” She rushed in pursuit of Rin, but ran into another waitress. “Where did she go?”

“Rin? Out the back, but you can’t just-”

Meg pushed past the waitress, “Sorry, no time to waste!” Burst through the back door, and chased after the thin frame that was Rin the Waitress. “Hey, wait!” The girl sped up, but it made no difference as Meg caught up to her in quick time. “Hey, hey, I’m so-“

“Just leave me alone!” Rin shouted at her, turning to face her. “If you’d noticed how awkward I was acting, you could’ve just done nothing! That would’ve been better.” Meg saw the mascara running down Rin’s face and felt her stomach twist.

“My friends are stupid, I’m sorry, I- I don’t even know why I call them my friends, they’re just my teammates, really... I guess I don’t have any friends here, now that I think about it.”

Rin sniffled. “Well, that makes two of us, then.

“Look, I’m really sorry.” She pulled out her wallet and ruffled around in it, pulling out a few a few yen. “I know this won’t cover much, it’s all I have on me right now until I go to the bank, but-”

“-Save it.”

“What?”

“Save your money, I don’t want it. It’s my fault for overreacting.” Rin said.

“I want to make it up to you, please,” Meg pleaded, “When are you off? I could… I could take you on a date there, I could-” Rin giggled. “What are you laughing at?” Meg asked.

“Wouldn’t it be weird if you took me on a date where I work?” She replied, smiling. Meg decided she liked it when she made Rin the Waitress smile. “Besides, I still don’t even know your name.”

“Oh! Right, uh- I’m Meg,” Meg said, “And I guess I wasn’t thinking about that. I can take you somewhere else, though? I know a really great yakitori place downtown that charges a reasonable price.” Rin laughed again, and her nose crinkled up in the cutest way, Meg noticed. “Okay, is there something wrong with my hair? I know I’m not that funny, so I don’t know what you’re laughing at.”

Rin stifled her laughter and said, “I just find it humorous that foreigners always pick that place to eat, is all.”

Meg crossed her arms. “How do you know it’s the same place everyone else goes to?”

“I just know, is all.”

“Okay, bet!”

“Bet.”

Two days later, Rin smugly announced, “It appears I was correct.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, you win.”

Rin grinned, “My father taught me to only to bet if you know you’re going to win.” Meg’s face grew distant, and Rin backstepped. “I’m sorry, did I say something rude? I- I’m-”

“No, no,” Meg reassured Rin, “You’re fine. It’s just… my dad left me. It happened when I was a baby, so I don’t remember him, but I don’t know… sometimes I wonder what he would’ve taught me if he were around.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think your mother did a fantastic job taking care of you. You’re here, right? In college?” Rin said, gently putting a hand on Meg’s shoulder.

“Yea, here, when I should be back home taking care of her. She’s sick, but she told me to go anyways.” Meg explained.

Rin nodded in understanding. “I can relate to that. My mother’s sick too, it’s… it’s why I’m waitressing, actually, to try and lessen the financial load on my father a bit.”

Meg smiled. “Glad to know somebody who gets it, at least.” Rin returned the smile, and the girls stood there, looking into each other’s eyes, until a gust of wind caused Rin to shiver. Meg snapped out of her haze and suggested, “Let’s go inside, before you catch a cold.”

Jokingly, Rin said, “Worry about yourself, Meg.” But walked through the door Meg pulled open for her.

After the meal, they bundled back up and walked down a street containing a few couples, savory smells wafting through the air, and a mixture of neon lights and paper lanterns strung up. It looked like a scene straight from a romance novel.

“Thank you for this, Meg. I’ve had a fun time. Usually I can’t afford to go out to eat, but it was a nice experience.” Rin smiled sweetly, nose crinkling again.

Meg replied, “I usually can’t either, but if I have the money now, why not? Even if it is just college money, it’s just sitting there.”

“That’s another thing we have in common, then.” Rin said.

After a few moments of silence, Meg spoke up. “Rin?”

“Yes, Meg?”

“I just… I just wanted to reiterate how sorry I am.” Meg mumbled sheepishly.

“It’s fine. It’s all made up for now, isn’t it?” Rin said, a skip in her step. “Everything is fine.”

“Well, not everything.”

“What do you mean?” Rin asked. Meg stopped, and Rin stopped with her, confused. Meg reached out, tentatively at first, then stronger once she saw Rin wasn’t backing away. She gently pushed Rin’s hair out of her face and behind her ears, and let her hand rest there, just barely touching Rin’s skin. She wanted to do more, but she told herself to wait.

“The first time I saw you, running past you on campus? The sun made your skin look like honey, and your eyes… it turned them golden.” She stared intensely into Rin’s eyes. Rin knew she was supposed to do something, but she had no idea what, so she stared back. “I just had to make sure I wasn’t wrong about that.”

Rin’s mind jumbled around for something to say. “And your eyes… they’re green.”

Meg laughed. “Yea, they are, isn’t that funny? Green’s lucky in Japan, right?”

Rin laughed too. “No, that’s China.”

“Oh.” Meg shrugged. “Well, I’m still lucky enough to have found you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know, are you?” Rin asked, still slightly unsure.

Meg leaned in. “I can’t be sure yet, but I’d like to think so.”

The girls closed their eyes and Rin closed the distance between their lips. The warm lighting of the lanterns combined with the noisy sounds of the city perfectly set the scene for the two young ladies. They may have seemed to be worlds apart, both literally and figuratively, but right then they were closer than ever, in every meaning of the phrase.

separator images found here

[goosewhisker]

this crooked posture (is all you’ve ever known)

read this on ao3 || read this on fanfiction.net

i wrote this whole thing in a span of about 5 days :pensive: as u can maybe tell i have a lot of feelings abt that one conversation btwn scourge and jules...there is so much potential here and im sad we never got to see it

as far as timeline goes- this would probably take place in the pre-boot universe about six months or so after scourge & co escape from zone jail. the destructix are camping out on mobius for the time being to avoid drawing zonic's attention and knothole has wrapped up the ixis naugus/metal sally arcs.

Summary: Fiona heads off with a wave, and he's left where he started - staring through a window into a nearly-empty kitchen, looking in on a life was never his and never will be. Inside, the robian sets bacon on the stovetop to fry and starts making toast, blissfully unaware of the hedgehog just outside. It's hard to tell on a robot, obviously, but he looks perfectly content with his life. Happy, even.

Pathetic. 

Or: Scourge avoids his problems, Fiona is exasperated, and Jules is mostly oblivious.

It's the early hours of the morning. So early, in fact, that it shouldn't even technically be called morning because it's still basically nighttime and no one sane is up right now.

Which is probably why the idiotic robian is up at five o'clock in the morning, puttering around in the kitchen and making breakfast. There's literally no reason for it. It's not like he can eat anything, after all, and his stupid son lives off chilidogs, so he's not going to eat it. And his stupid wife isn't getting up for like two hours, so she's not eating it either. See? Idiocy.

Yet another thing that their universes seem to have in common.

"What are you doing?"

Scourge almost shrieks - key word is almost, 'cause he's too cool to scream like a dork - and tackles Fiona into the bushes. "Shhh!"

Fiona splutters indignantly and a second later her fist bounces off his jaw, which, ow. "Are you nuts? Get off me!"

"Shhhut up!" Scourge throws a quick glance over his shoulder at the window. No one's come outside to investigate, so hopefully no one's heard. He rolls off her a second later. "You wanna get us arrested, woman?"

"Hey, I'm a legal citizen of this universe!" Fiona protests. "If anything, it's you who's getting arrested, Mr.-Snooping-Through-Other-People's-Windows. That's so creepy."

"We're both wanted criminals here; if we get caught, we're going down together," Scourge points out, graciously ignoring her last comment. "And anyway, I'm... gathering intel."

Fiona snorts. "Pull the other one, Scourge. That's not gonna work on me." Crossing her arms, she adds, "You've been gathering intel every night for the past week. And I know you're technically the same person, but watching Sonic sleep is really weird."

"I'm not watching him," Scourge snaps before he can help himself.

"Oh?" Fiona's eyes glint and it's then that Scourge realizes he's slipped. "Then who are you watching?"

"Uhhh..." Scourge fidgets while trying not to look like he's fidgeting. "No one. I'm just passing through, not watching anything. Why'd I want to do that anyway?" He forces a laugh. "So lame."

Fiona regards him with a flat stare. "Your fingerprints are smudged all over the window."

"What?" Scourge whips around to check the window. He'd been so careful not to leave any traces of his visits, but-

Waitaminute.

"Very funny," Scourge growls into his gloved hands. Fiona snickers.

"Look, if you don't want to tell me, I won't make you," she says, standing up and brushing the dirt off her pants. "But I'll find out eventually. And if this new obsession of yours endangers yourself or the team, I'm going to put a stop to it."

"Yeah, yeah," Scourge mutters, waving her off. "Get lost."

"Mhm. We still on for that movie night?"

"'course. See you there, babe."

Fiona heads off with a wave, and he's left where he started - staring through a window into a nearly-empty kitchen, looking in on a life was never his and never will be. Inside, the robian sets bacon on the stovetop to fry and starts making toast, blissfully unaware of the hedgehog just outside. It's hard to tell on a robot, obviously, but he looks perfectly content with his life. Happy, even.

Pathetic.

Scourge kicks the side of the house, suddenly incandescently furious with everything. Inside, Jules looks up in surprise, but Scourge is already gone.

"I need to stop," Scourge says later. The movie is over - some samurai flick that Simian had picked out and Lightning had ruined with his constant nitpicking - and they'd gone out for ice cream afterwards (read: robbed that nice gelato place downtown). Getting used to having teammates again is... something, Scourge supposes. But it's not completely terrible.

"You need to stop," Fiona agrees. She's texting furiously, slouched into the ratty couch in their current hideout with Scourge's head on her lap.

"It's just weird seeing him alive, is all," Scourge tells the ceiling. "That's all it is. Like, when you see something weird, and you just gotta look at it. It doesn't mean anything."

"Are you trying to convince yourself or me?"

"Not tryin' to convince anyone. I'm just saying what it is."

Fiona sets down her phone with a sigh. "Look, you gotta stop hurting yourself like this."

Scourge sits up a little too fast. "Hurting myself? What? Babe, have you forgotten who you're talking to? I'm Scourge the Hedgehog, I don't hurt."

Fiona gives that all the acknowledgment it deserves, which is none. "I told you about the... the prison, when I was a kid," she says. Scourge falls silent. "I went back there a few times, after I was big enough to handle myself. There wasn't a reason, really. I just thought I had to see it. And it sort of helped the first time - I cleaned out all the bots and made sure that place couldn't hold anyone ever again - but after that, I just went back again and again because it made me hurt and that felt good. Because I was hurting anyway, and being able to make it worse when I wanted to made me feel like I could control it."

Scourge doesn't say anything.

"But that wasn't true," Fiona says. Her voice shakes just a little, and without thinking Scourge takes her hand. It's stupid (sentimental) but she smiles faintly. "I wasn't healing or in control or anything. I was just hurting myself. And I can't stand watching you do the same."

"Babe," Scourge begins hoarsely.

"Tell me it's not the same," Fiona says flatly. "Or tell me- tell me that if I went back to that prison and crawl through that tunnel I dug with my own hands and relive every moment of the hell I went through, that you wouldn't stop me. That you would watch me do it."

He can't tell her that. He can't tell her that and she knows it.

Scourge looks away.

Fiona sighs and runs her hand along his spines. "He's not your dad, Scourge," she says quietly. "He's an entirely different person. Hurting yourself isn't going to make anything better."

"Okay," Scourge agrees. "Okay." Then, after a moment, "Thanks, babe."

Fiona smiles again, and there's something so sad about it he squeezes her hand again (uncool, but it's not like there's anyone else to see it). "No problem, hun."

He goes back again the next day.

This time, the wife is there too.

Scourge crouches in the massive oak tree beside the window, pretending he doesn't feel like a massive creep. His green fur blends neatly with the leaves, rendering him all but invisible to any casual observers, particularly when it's not-quite-light. With luck, it'll fool robian eyes as well.

Anyway.

Scourge doesn't remember his mother. She was simply never in the picture; whether because of death or divorce he never knew. Generally, he suspects the latter - months upon months of neglect, of being constantly passed over and ignored for the more important burdens of the state and the good of the people - yeah, he can see how a divorce would happen. Not that he'll ever know now.

The hedgehog in the kitchen doesn't look neglected. She throws her arms around the robian, not seeming to mind the cold metal, and dances around him as they prepare breakfast. The robian, in turn, leans into her touches and takes advantage of a moment of distraction to dab pancake batter on her nose. It's disgusting. Scourge gags.

Part of him wonders what he's gaining out of this. Hiding in a tree, spying on some losers and their dumb domestic life - not exactly fitting behavior for the former king of Moebius, after all.

It's not... It's not that Fiona's right. It's not like he's hurting himself - like he told Fiona, he's Scourge the Hedgehog. He doesn't do that emotions garbage. That kind of wimpiness is more Sonic's thing.

(Let alone that Fiona had said it happened to her. Let alone that she's usually right, and that she's one of the strongest people he knows.)

He's just curious. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

(The voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Fiona whispers, Yeah, right.)

Inside the kitchen, the robian starts flipping pancakes. For a second, Scourge tries to imagine his own father like that: Jules the Hedgehog, king of Moebius, flipping pancakes in a frilly pink apron and laughing with his wife. Arguing over who gets to wake up their son. Talking and hugging and laughing and living -

- and the illusion dissipates. Jules wouldn't set foot in a kitchen. He had servants to do that kind of thing, just like he had servants to take care of his son.

Scourge drops down from the tree branch and lands lightly on his feet. He's done here. He slinks off into the streets, hiding his face from the strengthening sunlight as synthetic laughter rings out behind him.

"Hey, Simian," Scourge says a few days later.

Simian continues lifting weights without slowing. "Yes?"

Scourge likes Simian, as much as he likes anyone. The ape is steady and has a solid head on his shoulders, and while it's kind of a drag most times, he does occasionally have helpful bits of advice. And when he goes loose on the battlefield, he can be really fun to fight alongside.

So that, plus the fact that Hawk doesn't care and Lightning would probably make fun of him and he'd rather eat his own shoes than talk to Fly, makes him Scourge's best option.

Scourge swings his legs back and forth as they dangle off the chair and tries to think of a way to broach it. He just needs to be subtle, right? "When was the last time you saw your parents?"

And maybe that wasn't super subtle after all, because Simian stops in the middle of his workout session (he never stops in the middle of a workout session) to stare at him. It feels... extremely uncomfortable, actually, wow. Scourge hops up and starts his stretches (anything to avoid looking back).

"When I last left my village, I was eighteen," Simian says at last. He sounds thoughtful, which is never a good sign. "That was several years ago... six years, I believe."

"That long, huh?" Scourge moves to quad stretches. "You're pretty old, man. Slowing down anytime soon?"

He's rewarded with a sharp grin. "I'm not that old. Though I suppose most people look slow next to you."

"Damn straight!"

"Why do you ask?"

And that's the issue - when even Scourge isn't sure why he's asking. He takes his time answering. "Oh, you know... just curious. Ever think about 'em?"

There's another ponderous silence, which mostly just succeeds in making Scourge antsy. Well, antsier.

"Sometimes," Simian says. "But I am a dedicated member of this team. You can rest assured of that."

And that's nice, but it's not what he's asking-

"...but that's not what you're asking, is it?"

Scourge freezes. Is he just that transparent? Why can everyone suddenly read his mind now? "What're you on about, man?" he deflects.

Simian shakes his head. "I do miss them, sometimes. It is natural for children to miss their parents."

"Not me!" Scourge laughs, and if it comes out a little too sharp, well, who's to blame him?

"Of course," Simian says, sounding vaguely indulgent. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"Uh, sure," Scourge lies. "A little heavy on the oversharing, but it's cool." And then he scarpers, because if super speed's good for anything it's for escaping uncomfortable conversations. Simian doesn't say anything about it later, and thank Chaos because he doesn't think he'd be able to face Fiona if she ever got wind of that little talk.

The next time he's in town, Scourge picks up a new set of woodworking knives and leaves it on Simian's equipment. It's not like he's gone soft, buying presents for his friends or whatever, Scourge tells himself. He's just... buying Simian's silence. It's a bribe, is all.

(Simian saves him some extra ice cream the night after and that's that.)

It is natural for children to miss their parents, Simian had said. Ha! As if. Scourge hasn't missed his old man a day of his life and he's not about to start now.

... that'd carry more weight if he wasn't spending two or three mornings a week moping outside their kitchen.

Scourge sips his frappe and pretends he's not sulking. Right now, he's outside some random diner in Knothole in full disguise, complete with a trenchcoat, fedora, and sunglasses. He was honestly expecting someone to stop him before now - this kind of garb is about as suspicious as it gets - but no one seemed to even notice anything out of the ordinary. Idiots.

Fiona would kill him if she knew the kind of risks he's taking - which, of course, is why she doesn't need to know.

Scourge checks the time. Seven o'clock, meaning the wife is just getting up and they're having breakfast right now - Chaos, he has their entire morning schedule memorized, doesn't he? Fiona was right, he is obsessed. Scourge slumps over the table and buries his head in his arms.

He can still turn this around. Knowing their schedule is useful, from a strategic standpoint; he could threaten them, take them hostage... even kill them. Sonic would be taken completely offguard. It would be simple. Easy. The smart thing to do.

Scourge's groan is only partially muffled by the table.

"...you alright, son?"

What-

Something electric shoots up his spine. Scourge's claws dig into the edges of the table with a crunch as he bolts upright. And there, before him, with a look so familiar but so foreign in his eyes is-

He's not the same.

His skin is metallic where it should be flesh, plated where it should be furred. His eyes burn a bright pixelated red when they should be brown. That stupid tuft of fur on his head is shining chrome that glints under the bright sun.

But the way he stands - colored though it is with a hint of a soldier's posture - that proud tilt of his chin, the gentleness in his hands as they reach out to him -

It's Jules.

It's different from seeing him in that dim, lamp-lit room. In the daylight, the differences are exaggerated - and so are the similarities.

For a second, Scourge can only see his dad standing there.

He reacts on instinct. Scourge rears back and smacks Jules' outstretched hand away. "Don't touch me!"

Jules straightens up, virtual eyes widening with shock. "I'm- I'm sorry, it looked like you were unhappy. I only meant to-"

"Well, don't," Scourge spits. "Get lost."

Jules looks at him longer and then, for some Chaos-forsaken reason, doesn't leave. Why isn't he leaving, Scourge thinks furiously, and only realizes he's breathing heavy when his breaths start coming too fast and harsh in his ears. Jules says something, but the words don't make sense and he can't tear his gaze away from the polished metal. Beneath his fingertips, the table starts to splinter.

And then there's warm hands on his shoulders, and a steady voice in his ears, saying, "Listen to me. Do you want me to leave?"

Nothing comes out of his throat. Scourge shakes helplessly. He wants him to leave, he wants him stay, he wants to never see him again. He wants his dad.

Jules must take it as permission to stay, because he doesn't leave. The grip on his shoulders is a solid, unmoving presence, and Scourge can't help but lean into it. "I'm going to count slowly. Try to match your breathing to my voice - it's alright if you can't. Starting now. One, two..."

For some completely batty reason, he tries, and it helps some. His breathing is a little too fast and a lot shaky, still, but it settles into a more even pace instead of the uncontrollable rush. Sense comes back slowly, and with it, an acute, uncomfortable awareness of what just happened.

Well. At least he's not crying.

Scourge stands abruptly, tearing himself from Jules' arms. The robian raises a brow but doesn't protest. "Are you feeling better?" he asks instead. It's entirely casual, with no hint of pity, and Scourge hates himself a little for being pathetically grateful.

"Peachy," Scourge snaps and whirls around, hiking up his collar. Jules isn't screaming yet, so he clearly hasn't realized who he is, and Scourge is in no hurry to correct him. Honestly, this hedgehog's stupidity knows no bounds.

"Well." The robian stands up, reaches for a grocery bag that Scourge only just realized was there, and adds, "Stay safe, son."

Scourge's vision briefly whites out from fury. "Don't call me that," he snarls and takes off running before Jules can reply.

He finds a secluded place in a lonely corner, throws his warp ring, and promises himself that he'll never go back.

Scourge does some research.

It's called a panic attack, apparently. Common among soldiers, which is probably why Jules knew what to do - he said he'd been on the front lines, hadn't he? Common among victims of PTSD, the website says, and Scourge scoffs and closes the tab. Trauma - ridiculous. Scourge doesn't do trauma. If anything, he gives it to other people.

He's still snickering at his joke when Hawk comes in to tell him that Finitevus called in with another job. Normally, Scourge would tell him to screw off, but he's offering a massive stack of Anarchy beryl in return - something they've been in short supply of since they ditched Moebius.

Scourge's body itches at the thought of going super again. He accepts.

Thirty minutes later, they're waist-deep in smashed Eggman bots and struggling to fend off a fresh wave while Fiona and Hawk bicker over the terminal.

"I'm telling you, if we do that, we'll get locked out of the system entirely!" Fiona snaps.

Hawk throws up his hands. "Fine! Ignore me! It's not like you literally just have to enter the code or anything!"

Scourge spindashes down the line of Eggpawns, smashing through them like paper. He hits the wall at the right angle to bounce right off and uncurls in midair to land on his feet.

"Wrap it up, guys!" he yells and ducks beneath a stray kunai. "Watch it, Lightning!"

"Thought you were supposed to be the fast one," Lightning calls back.

"And I thought you were supposed to be able to aim!"

"I can." Lightning flicks a wrist and Scourge drops backward into a roll to avoid the next kunai that comes his way. When he springs back onto his feet, ready to chew out the idiotic trigger-happy lynx, there's a Badnik pinned to the wall right where he'd been standing. Lightning shoots him a smug grin.

"Right back atcha," Scourge mutters and barrels through the cluster taking potshots at Hawk and Fi.

"Ugh, fine!" Fiona shoves Hawk away and starts typing furiously.

Scourge drops another five Badniks and skids to a stop as an Egg Launcher smashes through the wall directly in front of him. "Fiona!"

"Give us a minute," Hawk snarls back.

The Launcher brings its arms down to eye level and Scourge leaps into the air as its targeting system locks on - and then Fly drops out of nowhere onto on its shoulders. "Need help?" the frog giggles (sweet Chaos Scourge hates him) and rips the thing's head off. Scourge blitzes right through its chest.

As its body slumps bonelessly to the floor, another Launcher steps through the wall behind it... and another one. And another. Chaos.

"If those things unload all those missiles in here, we're going to have a problem," Lightning says, echoing Scourge's own thoughts.

"Out of the way," Simian grunts, swinging the first bot's disembodied missile launcher-slash-arm onto his shoulder and taking aim.

"Are you nuts, man?" Scourge yells. "Didn't you hear Lightning? You fire that thing and this whole building's going down!"

"Better have the exit ready, then," Simian returns evenly.

"Got it!" Fiona announces, jumping up from the terminal with a chip in hand. Hawk follows, looking severely disgruntled. "Turns out we really did just have to enter the code. Hah."

"I told you," Hawk begins, but Fiona waves him off.

"You were right once, don't go getting a big head. You got the ring ready, sweetie?"

"Everyone over here! You miss the ring, we're leavin' you behind!" Scourge doesn't wait for a response and throws the warp ring. The portal spins into existence, glistening faintly in the electric light, and they all pile in. Simian fires off a final missile salvo before the ring vanishes and they tumble haphazardly into the Doc's lair to the sound of the entire base going up.

For a second, no one moves, too tired and bruised and tangled together to bother getting up. Lightning sighs heavily from the bottom of the heap. Scourge laughs.

"I trust you have what I asked for?" Finitevus asks from literally two feet away, and Scourge isn't even going to question how he knew where they'd end up. After all, they are at his mercy inside his weird evil lair, and Scourge knows how to be tactful.

Scourge props himself up on an elbow. "So do you like, practice being creepy, or is it natural?"

Without looking, Fiona smacks him in the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"We have it," Fiona says, extricating herself from the tangle. Scourge considers tripping her as she walks past, decides against it, and settles for hooking his ankle around Hawk's heel as he stands up. The bird goes down with a satisfying squawk right on top of Lightning and the ensuing chaos lets Scourge hop up onto his own feet.

Fiona ignores it.

"All the files relating to the roboticization process are on this USB," she says, holding it out. Finitevus takes it and, after a moment's inspection, slips it into his robes.

"So why'd you want that, Doc?" Scourge asks, adjusting his sunglasses. "Woulda thought that robot stuff wasn't quite your style."

"It is true that roboticization is a perversion of the natural order and representative of that which I seek to destroy," Finitevus concedes. "But I am not opposed to much that will give me the advantage against my nemeses. And I must admit the idea of enslaving your opponent's will to your own has a certain... charm."

Scourge and Fiona exchange a look - of the literally why is he like this and the why do we talk to him again variety - and Scourge shoves his hands in his pockets and steps up. "Uh... yeah, man. Totally. Anyway, if we're done here, can we have the beryl now?"

"Of course. But first, I have one more task for you."

Scourge scoffs disbelievingly. "Are you kidding? The deal was we break into Eggman's lab, steal your stupid information, and hand it over. We've done that. It took like forever and it was a massive pain in the butt the whole time, we are not adding anything else onto that and that's final."

"...I'll double the amount of beryl."

Scourge hesitates.

... which is how they ended up here. Scourge crouches on the windy rooftop, tugging his dumb fancy suit jacket closer and hoping idly that something happens soon. "Can we go in yet?" he asks.

Hawk, who's busy adjusting his own disguise, shakes his head. "You really have no patience at all, do you?"

"Nope!" Scourge tugs on his overly-tight tie and mostly just makes it worse. "How 'bout now?"

"If you were any good at infiltration, Fiona would've let you go in already," Hawk says. He's typing on his communicator, syncing all their devices into something they can actually use. It's not that Hawk's particularly adept at technology, or anything; it's just that all the rest of them are so abysmal at anything electric that tech duty usually falls to him or Fiona. "Unless Plan C falls through, you're not headed in 'till the last minute."

Scourge sighs loudly, letting his feet dangle off the edge of the building. "I could just walk in and grab him. They wouldn't even see me coming. Then we wouldn't have to spend a million years sitting out in the cold."

Hawk doesn't look up. "And then Sonic would pursue, and then we'd have to fight him off while trying to kidnap a geriatric former soldier without killing him. Which, given our previous track record..."

The bird trails off and Scourge grimaces. Yeah. They'd given up on kidnappings for a reason. They wouldn't have even considered this one if not for the offer of Anarchy beryl - which has been in extremely short supply recently, given they can't hop dimensions without instantly snagging Zonic's individual attention. And it's not like Scourge isn't flattered that the self-important dimensional cop will drop everything for a chance at catching him, but he's not planning on seeing the inside of Zone Jail ever again.

Anyway. It's a small blessing that Zonic hasn't come looking for them personally, or sent Sonic after them, but it's one Scourge isn't willing to throw away just for a power-up. Thus the kidnapping mission.

Scourge swings his legs contemplatively and longs for Fiona to hurry up so he can bash some heads.

Right on cue, their communicators ring. "Alright, boys," Fiona's voice comes through a little tinnily. "You ready?"

"Heck yeah," Scourge says immediately.

"Ready to go whenever," Hawk confirms.

"Roger. Meet me where we agreed." The comms unit crackles and goes silent. Scourge hops up and starts stretching quickly, trying to limber up his half-frozen muscles. Hawk sets his communicator down and picks the lock on the trapdoor they'd been sitting next to. Once it's open, they slip down a small flight of stairs and through an empty hallway. At the end, they take a right through another hall and stop outside a janitor's closet.

Scourge raps on the door. "Knock, knock," he says.

There's a moment of silence. Then Lightning opens the door. "Hurry up," he whispers, peering over their shoulders.

Scourge clicks his tongue in disappointment. "Dude, you're supposed to say 'who's there.'"

"Yeah, Lightning," Fiona says from inside. "You're ruining the script."

"I- what?" Lightning sputters. "You people are so immature. Simian, can you tell them to shut up?"

There's a good fifteen seconds of judgemental silence. "...you should've said 'who's there.'"

Lightning rolls his eyes and Scourge pushes past him into the room. Simian nods as he enters and Fly, who's doing something he can't quite make out, cackles in a corner. Scourge spreads his arms wide. "Alright, I'm here now, the party can start!"

"Good to have you," Fiona says. She's sitting on an overturned bucket, one ankle folded over her knee and eyes glued to her phone. "Alright, so Plan A failed."

"Yes!"  Scourge cheers, pumping a fist in the air.

Fiona shoots him a glare. "We weren't able to get him away from his bodyguards and the speech is about to start soon. I didn't want to do this in front of a crowd, but we may not have a choice. Right now, we only have to deal with the normal security and Sonic. After the ceremony, they're going to meet up with a bunch of Sonic's friends before going back home to Knothole."

"Wouldn't it be better to wait, then?" Simian asks, folding his arms.

Fiona shakes her head. "No for two reasons. We can handle the normal security easily, especially if we use the crowd for meatshields while Scourge is distracting Sonic. Sonic's friends are, frankly, a much greater threat than the security, and they will not be holding back. And if we wait until they go back to Knothole, we have that... woman to deal with."

Everyone shudders at the mention of Nicole. Their last attempt on Knothole is not a memory anyone wants to relive.

"So if we use the crowd for cover and Scourge's able to distract Sonic for long enough, this is doable," Fiona resumes. "We'll just have to time it right. And we can not let Sonic know our target at all costs. If he realizes we're trying to kidnap his uncle, he won't let the old man out of his sight, and our job will get a lot harder. Got that?"

A quick briefing on everyone's roles later and it's time to go. Scourge starts to follow the guys out the door and is caught short by Fiona's hand on his wrist. "Sweetie, can I talk to you for a second?" she asks and drags him back inside before he can answer.

She turns him loose and Scourge spins around, rubbing his wrist. "Alright, if this is about what I think it's about-"

"Don't worry, I'm not yelling at you. Just..." she trails off to stare at him.

Scourge tries not to fidget and goes for a confident smile, propped up against the wall. "Babe, don't worry about me. This'll be a lark."

"It's... you know." Fiona shrugs and apparently decides to just go for it. "You've been having issues about your dad. I need to know if that'll affect your performance here."

"What?" Scourge is almost kind of offended. If it was anyone but Fi asking, he would be offended. "Babe, my uncle was a total nutjob. Like, worse than my old man. No issues here."

Fiona looks at him a second longer. "Alright," she says at last. "If you say so. I'm counting on you."

She brushes past him on her way out, squeezing his hand on the way, which is nice since she's weird about stuff like that. Scourge follows a minute later.

I require one more thing for my research, Finitevus had said. Charles the Hedgehog. Inventor of the roboticization process. He is receiving an award for his technological advancements in Central City in two days. Bring him to me alive and you will have your full reward.

Scourge scans the crowd for Charles now, leaning on the fancy railing of the fancy indoors balcony overlooking the fancy banquet hall. There's a name for a balcony like this - a mezzasomething - but he can't remember what it is. Maybe Fiona would know.

Scourge tugs at the collar of his unbearably fancy suit jacket and longs for his sunglasses.

He'd told Fiona the truth earlier - his uncle was a wackjob. Paranoid, jittery, simultaneously ravenous for power and terrified of it - no one had liked him, least of all his nephew.

Jules had liked him, probably. Enough to give him a home and a laboratory for his crazy experiments and to turn a blind eye when they started getting darker and more deadly. That had gone on up until Charles had invented a machine that turned moebians to robots, and its first (unwilling) test subject had been Jules.

Yeah. After Ivo managed to save Jules' life, they'd put a stop to that real quick.

They'd told Scourge that Charles had gone far away to someplace he could be happy. He still remembers that scene - Jules crouching down before him with mournful eyes, one arm cold and stiff where the roboticization process had gotten it before Ivo had pulled him out. His flesh hand had been warm and comforting on his shoulder, and Scourge had been so distracted by the touch that he hadn't even cared that his uncle was gone. He'd faked tears just to get Jules to stay with him a little longer.

Scourge shakes his head wildly, dissipating the memories. Anyway, it was painfully obvious in hindsight that Charles had either been jailed or executed for treason. Not that Scourge would have cared either way. Mostly, he's just vaguely curious to see what Charles is like in this world. Still a mad scientist, or something more benevolent?

A mass of whispering erupts at the main entryway of the hall. Scourge straightens up.

A bunch of bodyguards in black enter, followed by a few people who could be family or friends. Sonic's there, obviously, and next to him can only be Uncle Charles.

Scourge doesn't really remember his uncle; he was, after all, a kid when the guy vanished, and he avoided him whenever possible. But the face before him is undeniably like his own. He has the same sloping forehead, the same pointed muzzle. Honestly, he looks exactly like Sonic with a mustache.

Scourge leans forward, intrigued, as the old guy says something that has Sonic pitching forward in laughter. It's weird, seeing him. Not like seeing Jules, or even like seeing the mom. Just... weird.

Not the kind of weird that Fiona's worried about, thank Chaos. No, he'll have no problems handing this schmuck over to the Doc.

Charles and his little squad sit down in the front row while the bodyguards split up to cover the exits. Scourge tracks their positions automatically, mostly focused on the target. Charles claps his nephew on the back and leans over to whisper something in his ear. Scourge looks away with a sneer.

The ceremony starts. A bunch of people Scourge doesn't know talk about a bunch of things he doesn't understand, blah blah blah. Scourge yawns and taps a tattoo on the railing with his claws. Luckily, all the civilians seem to have gone down to the seating area, so he's alone on the balcony. As long as the security doesn't notice him, he should have no problem staying under the radar until it's time to make his move. Until then, he amuses himself trying to find the rest of the Destructix hidden in the crowd.

Down below, the speeches start wrapping up. Charles ruffles his nephew's quills one last time and heads up to the stage. Scourge straightens up as he accepts his award and takes the mic.

"First, I'd like to thank you all for being here today," the hedgehog says. Scourge taps his foot impatiently. "I know it's a bit of a long way for a lot of you - we've got some visitors from Holoska, even! - and it means a lot to me that you'd take the time to make it here today. So thank you."

Ugh, so boring. Can't Fiona hurry up? At this rate, they'll be doing the audience a favor by sparing them all this drivel.

"- of the University of Spagonia for funding my research and going out of his way to help me whenever I needed it. Thank you, old friend."

Scourge taps his communicator and almost jumps when it crackles to life.

"Alright, everyone's in position," Fiona says. "On my mark, Scourge, you're going to distract Sonic. Jump down there, challenge him to a fight, anything. His sole concern needs to be beating you up."

"All he has to do is be himself and Sonic'll be jumping at the chance to tear him a new one," Lightning interjects. "Works on me."

"Oh, shut up," Scourge says. "Fiona, tell him to shut up."

"...well, he has a point."

Lightning's amused huff is audible over the comm. Scourge rolls his eyes. Traitors, all of them.

Fiona's voice goes serious. "But for real. Get him mad and get him out of here. Make him chase you 'till I call you back, and don't give him a second to realize there's more going on. If he comes back here before we're done, it's over. Okay?"

"I got it handled, babe," Scourge says. "Worry about yourself."

"Believe me, I am." The comms go silent a second later. Scourge stands up, shakes the stiffness from his limbs, and hops up to crouch on the railing. It's showtime.

On stage, Charles is still talking. Does the hedgehog not know how to shut up? "And finally, I'd like to thank my family, who loved and supported me every step of the way, up to and including being here with me today as I accept this award. Sonic, my amazing nephew - you've grown so much and, while I wasn't there for all of it-"

Well, that's enough of that. Scourge leaps into the air, curls up, and lands a perfectly executed homing attack on the podium. Splinters, chunks of wood, and a massive dust cloud fly everywhere. Someone in the audience screams, and behind him he can hear Charles stumbling back and coughing furiously.

"Uncle Chuck!" In the front row, Sonic rockets to his feet and dashes forward, only to come skidding to a stop. As the dust dissipates, Scourge grins. He can feel the light glinting off his fangs.

"Long time no see, faker," Scourge spits. He pulls his sunglasses out of the stupid suit jacket's pocket and slides them on with a flourish. "Can't exactly say it's a pleasure seeing you... then again, I always look forward to a chance to kick your butt."

"Wh- Scourge?" the blue idiot sputters. The shock only lasts a matter of seconds before fading, as the flabbergasted expression turns into something more like a smirk. "Well, well. I haven't heard from you since I demolished you and left Zonic to drag your sorry carcass away. Did they let you out on good behavior?"

Good behavior. Hah. As if Sonic knows anything about what goes on in Zone Jail. "Please. I smashed my way out of there the first week. The Zone Jail's in shambles; just ask Zonic! Oh wait - you can't." He laughs.

Sonic's smile slips a notch and the quills on his back bristle. "What happened to Zonic?"

Scourge keeps laughing.

"Alright, pincushion. Maybe you'll tell me when I beat it out of you!" Apparently done talking, Sonic curls up into a spindash. Scourge, still laughing, topples off the wrecked podium and leaves Sonic to smash into the stage where he'd been standing. People are screaming, someone's escorting Charles off the stage, and Scourge is reveling in the chaos.

"Slowing down, blue boy?" he mocks him. "You'll never find out about your stupid friend if you can't even touch me." Zonic's perfectly fine, actually, unless you count the truckload of paperwork Scourge saddled him with after his escape from Zone Jail. Not that Sonic needs to know that, 'cause if anything ticks him off, it's a threat to one of his friends.

And, true to form, Sonic snarls wordlessly and Scourge knows he's got him.

"You're looking kind of slow today - let's see if those legs of yours still work," Scourge calls over his shoulder and takes off. The world blurs around him as he taps into his speed, rockets between panicked partygoers and confused waiters and angry bodyguards. Out of the corner of his eye, he briefly spots Fiona crouching behind a pillar before she's blown away in his wake. Like this, outside sounds, sights, everything drops away, leaving him alone with himself and the wind.

It's nice. Peaceful, even.

And then the only other being who can keep up with him barrels into his side, sending them tumbling over each other right through the big open doors outside. Scourge lands a kick to Sonic's chest, sending him spinning away, and sprints down a sidestreet towards the marketplace. A moment later, the sound of footsteps running at 300 mph picks up behind him.

Scourge grins. The plan's working, then - Sonic's so ticked that he hasn't even stopped to wonder why Scourge isn't stopping to fight, or why he crashed the party in the first place. Now he just has to play this out 'till Fiona's done.

"Been slacking your exercise regimen lately? 'Cause I thought you were faster than this!" Scourge calls out.

"That so?" Sonic returns. The sound is unexpectedly close and Scourge looks back to see Sonic running only a few paces behind him. "I could say the same for you."

Scourge growls and vaults a fruit cart, sending it flying with a back kick. Sonic dodges the cart and dives through the onslaught of flying fruit, coming up without a scratch. Scourge's gained a precious few seconds, but in a contest of speed, those seconds mean everything. He blocks Sonic's path - kicking over trash cans, dodging in front of moving cars, knocking a baby out of its mother's arms with a well placed swipe. Sonic dodges the trash cans, goes over or around the vehicles, and loses a good fifteen seconds saving the baby. By the time they've cleared the marketplace, Scourge is about thirty feet ahead and gaining.

"What's wrong?" Sonic yells. "Scared of a little fight?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Scourge yells back. "Dunno 'bout you, but I'm not wasting my time fighting someone too slow to keep up!" Up ahead, a pile of trash bags is stacked against a sloping wall, reaching up to the edge of the roof. Scourge leaps up in a single bound and sprints along the rooftop. Behind, the trash bags crinkle as Sonic races up, and tiles creak as the hedgehog fights for balance. Scourge snorts and picks up speed.

The rooftop run is fraught with near-misses and almost-falls. This area of town has a mixture of buildings; some are modern and boxy, with flat tops, but there's a number of older structures with pointed tile roofs. Scourge skids down the sloping ridge of one of these, slips off the building, snags a flagpole on the way down and turns his fall into a launch point. He lands upright on the narrow ledge of a skyscraper and darts along the line of windows, flashing a mock salute at some goggle-eyed kid in its bedroom.

Sneakered feet hit the concrete behind him as Sonic pursues, grinning despite his ferocious eyes.

Scourge hooks a fast right as the ledge ends and drops down to the top level of the parking garage nestled against the 'scraper. Mostly he's planning on going back down to street level, but Sonic puts on a burst of speed and tackles him right there.

They roll head over heels across the concrete, colliding with a dusty pickup truck hard enough to dent in the side. Scourge throws himself out of the way and rolls onto his feet just as Sonic picks himself up. The blaring car alarm is the only sound as they stare each other down.

Sonic moves first. He doesn't bother curling up, just lunges fist first at Scourge's face. Scourge ducks the punch and goes in low for Sonic's solar plexus, narrowly dodging a knee to his face. Sonic slams his heel down on Scourge's foot and drives an elbow into his neck. Scourge stumbles back, falling into a roll to avoid Sonic's left hook, and comes up on his feet with room to spare.

There's another moment of staring and circling as they pant heavily and pretend they're not.

And then Sonic steps something that crunches and looks down.

Scourge lunges. Sonic sidesteps him easily and snatches it up - and wait, Chaosdammit that's his communicator-

"Is this a mic?" Sonic asks disbelievingly and then the pieces click.

He stares at Scourge blankly, and Scourge can practically see his train of thought - comms means accomplices, accomplices means there's a plan, a plan means Sonic was intentionally drawn out here away from the ceremony, and if Sonic's out here then -

Then -

Scourge swears and moves to tackle Sonic but the idiot's already gone. Instinctively, his hand goes to his ear - "Fiona, he's coming your way, I-" No, wait, Sonic's got the communicator and it's broken anyway, dammit. The plan's falling apart and it's entirely his fault.

Well. It hasn't fallen apart yet.

Scourge takes off, running full-tilt after Sonic. The irony of the situation isn't lost on him, not that he appreciates it. Sonic's trail is a direct beeline back to the hall. It should be easy to follow, but for some reason Scourge can't catch up those last few feet.

"I thought you wanted to fight, you dingus!" Scourge snaps. "Make up your mind already, sheesh!"

"You tricked me," Sonic growls.

"Uh, yeah? I'm the bad guy. It's kinda what I do."

"What's your actual plan?"

"Thought you were gonna beat me up and find out?"

Sonic snarls and, impossibly, picks up speed. Scourge has to drop the conversation entirely to focus on just keeping up.

They hit the convention hall scarce minutes later. There's clearly a fight going on inside; explosions and the faint sound of screaming accompany the flood of people battering down the doors in their desperation to escape. The Destructix are clearly having fun... and more importantly, haven't escaped yet. What on Moebius are they doing?!

Sonic zips through the crowd, dodging panicking mobians with practiced ease. Scourge doesn't bother; he kicks one middle-aged cat into the heart of the rush and vaults over the resulting pileup without missing a step. "Babe! Hope you're wrapping it up in there!" he yells as they burst into the ceremony hall.

The Destructix are more than holding their own. The security has been almost entirely cleared out; fallen guards litter the area while none of their own are even scratched. Fiona, wielding a G.U.N. issue stun pistol, jerks up in surprise as Sonic skids into the room. "Scourge, you had one job!" she screeches.

"So did you!" Scourge rams into Sonic from behind, sending them both flying into a row of seating. Scourge comes out on top. "What happened to Ch- the target?" he asks, pinning Sonic down with an elbow to his throat.

"Escaped," Fiona says grimly. "We've already informed the Doc... and, uh, we have a new objective now."

Sonic makes a choked-off sound and Scourge leans down harder. Something shifts behind him but he ignores it. "Alright, what is it?"

Fiona hesitates.

And then cold metal claws clamp down around his shoulder and tear him off Sonic, lifting him bodily into the air. The hedgehog wheezes for breath on the ground, but Scourge isn't paying attention. He's not paying attention to anything anymore, because in front of him-

"What the hell are you doing here," Scourge breathes.

Artificial red eyes burn into his own. "Don't touch my son," says Jules, and the anger in his voice causes every limb in Scourge's body to lock up with instinctive fear.

Of course Jules is here, Charles is his brother, why wouldn't he attend the ceremony - hadn't the blasted hedgehog said as much during his speech? Scourge should've realized it then. This was a bad idea, they need to get out of here, why did Scourge even come here in the first place-

Something in Jules' mechanical expression thaws.

The clawhold on his shoulder eases as he's lowered to his feet, but Scourge's brain is still spinning in circles. He's gone completely unresponsive, some part of him knows, but he can't think.

"Get away from him!" Fiona yells and plants a high kick right in the center of Jules' chest. The robian goes flying, pursued by Simian, and Hawk swoops down behind them to tackle Sonic away. "Babe," Fiona says, kneeling down beside Scourge, feeling frantically at his shoulder. "Did he get you?"

The world shifts a little bit back into place. "No," Scourge mutters. "Fiona, I don't-"

"Save it." Fiona's eyes are full of worry as she grabs his wrist and hauls him to his feet. "I think you need to sit this one out, sweetie."

"What? No." Scourge grips her hand like a lifeline. "I can fight. I can still fight."

"Scourge... the new target is Jules."

Something in his chest catches. Scourge stares at her, and around them, the noise of the battle seems to fade. "...what? Why?"

Fiona grimaces. "We lost the inventor of roboticization. Next best thing is its last survivor."

"No. We're not doing that." Scourge has no idea what he's doing, only that they cannot hand his- hand Jules over to Finitevus. He catches both her hands in his own and squeezes them tight. "Call off the mission, we're going home."

Fiona stares at him. "What? Scourge, you can't be serious! After all the work we've put into this? And what about the beryl?"

"We already got the beryl from the first mission. We'll be careful and save it until we can restock. We've gotten this far without any beryl at all, we don't need it that badly!" Scourge hesitates. "...Fiona, please."

It's the last word that breaks her. She knows how bad he hates saying it, knows how much this means to him that he's saying it now. Her shoulders slump in defeat. "...fine. But you get to explain this to the Doc - and please, let's try to avoid burning that bridge again."

Scourge squeezes her hand one last time before letting go. "Thanks, Fi. And don't worry about the Doc; I'll take care of him."

"That's what I'm worried about," Fiona grumbles, but she's smiling. "Alright, team," she calls out, pulling out her warp ring. "Mission's off. We're going home."

"Wait, what?" Hawk asks and nearly gets clobbered by Sonic for his trouble. "Why?"

"Ask questions when we get home," Fiona says and throws the ring. As the portal whooshes open, Scourge turns to survey the troops. Lightning and Simian are slowly retreating back to the portal, fighting Jules every step of the way, while Hawk and Fly are trying without much success to fend off Sonic long enough to run.

Scourge spindashes into Sonic, knocking him off-balance. "Get to the portal, idiots!" To Sonic, he adds, "Sorry, but it looks like we're cutting this date short." If Chaos has even a drop of mercy in its unforgiving soul, Sonic will have been too thoroughly distracted by the fight to have overheard his exchange with Fiona.

And it looks like for once, his prayers are answered, because Sonic's grin, strained with exhaustion though it is, hints at nothing off. "I'm not letting you get away this time," he says and launches into another spindash. "I still have some questions for you to answer!"

"Then they'll have to wait for next time." Scourge ducks the attack and slams his heel into Sonic as he passes, boosting his momentum to slam into the opposite wall. "Alright, time to go!" he yells, scrambling for the portal. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the rest of the Destructix doing the same.

Fiona's already waiting at the portal, with one leg halfway through, and-

"-aaaaaAAAUGH, WHAT THE HELL," she screams and falls back, pinwheeling wildly.

"Fiona!" Scourge yells and then the world blurs briefly and he's at her side, hauling her to her feet. "Fi, what's-" and then he screams too, because Finitevus is literally right there, climbing through the ring like a monster in a horror movie.

The battle cuts off. A few feet away, a newly recovered Sonic skids to a stop, staring incredulously. The Destructix are sort of ranged out behind him, looking to Scourge and Fiona for the next move. And who knows where Jules is.

"Dude," Scourge says emphatically, putting a hand to his chest. "Don't do that."

"What are you doing," Finitevus hisses.

Scourge makes a show of looking around. "Uh, escaping? I mean, what does it look like?"

"I should have known better than expect you lot to pull through," Finitevus mutters, and hey, that's actually kind of offensive.

"Hey! Screw you, man!" Scourge yells, shaking his fist. "We're leaving 'cause we want to, not 'cause we're losing!" Fiona slaps a palm to her face.

"Oh? And what possible reason could you have to do that?" Finitevus asks, but he doesn't seem very interested in an answer, because his hands flare with dark energy a second later, and Scourge knows what that means.

"Scatter!" he yells and hits the ground with Fiona as a bolt of Chaos energy goes right over their heads. Fiona rolls out from under him as he leaps to his feet.

Sonic seems to have switched targets. Currently, he's hammering away at Finitevus' defenses, running his mouth the whole time. The ring portal is still open behind Finitevus, but they need to get the crazy echidna out of the way first.

Fiona, as usual, is two steps ahead. "You're going to need to team up with Sonic."

"What, seriously? Can't we just let Sonic take care of the Doc and ditch?"

She gives him a flat look. "I don't know how he did it, but Finitevus must have hijacked the ring's signal and keyed it to his lair. I need time to reset it before we can leave. Just, you know-" she waves a hand vaguely. "Move the fight away. Whale on Finitevus. Keep them both off my back long enough for me to work."

"Ugh. Fine." Scourge turns around on his heel. "Hey, loser!" he calls out, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Five minute truce?"

Sonic uncurls in midair long enough to yell, "Make it two!"

Fiona had better work fast, because this isn't going to take long. "Destructix, watch Fiona's back," he orders and throws himself into the fight.

Finitevus was clearly anticipating something like this, because he moves smoothly into defending against the both of them without hesitation. And it's - frustrating. Whenever Scourge throws a punch, a ring portal swirls into being in just the right place to take his hit. If he tries a kick, the same thing. And Chaos forbid he spindashes, or he'll wind up on the opposite side of the room (or, more accurately, slamming into Sonic).

Between the ring portals and the constant misdirection, the two minute mark passes and they haven't landed a single hit. The guy isn't on their level, exactly, but he's unpredictable with enough tricks that he could probably take either of them on their own. Against both of them, he doesn't stand a chance - or he wouldn't if Sonic would get out of his way.

"Dude, we're supposed to be working together!" Sonic snaps.

Scourge flicks his ear (it's been ringing since Finitevus dropped a portal that sent a spindashing Sonic on a collision course with Scourge's face) and ducks beneath a Chaos-infused punch. "Not my fault you can't keep up."

He sidesteps a second punch and follows up with a roundhouse kick that comes inches from the Doc's face before another ring portal intercepts. Dammit.

Sonic, of course, chooses that moment to go for a homing attack, which takes him right into the portal as Finitevus dodges. From somewhere on the other side of the room, the moron makes a faint oomph sound as the portal spits him out.

Scourge rolls his eyes and sweeps his legs under Finitevus' ankles, forcing the echidna to stumble back. "You make a remarkably disloyal minion," Finitevus says and drops into a portal.

On a hunch, Scourge spins around and slams a haymaker into Finitevus' face when the echidna reappears behind him. "Calling me a minion was your first mistake, Doc," Scourge says. "I'm the king, baby."

Finitevus snarls and vanishes again. "I must wonder at the cause of this particular instance," his voice says. Scourge whirls around, fists up before him, but the scientist is nowhere to be seen. "You were, after all, so eager to serve at first. What changed your mind?"

"You really gotta learn the difference between serving and making a deal, bud," Scourge says. "This why your friends always leave you?"

Finitevus ignores him. "Nothing changed between then and now. Nothing... except the target." Something flickers in the corner of Scourge's eye and he starts to turn, but he's met with a blow to the jaw followed by one to the shin. Scourge crumples to his knee with a cry of pain and looks up to see Finitevus' Chaos-powered boot swing for his face-

And then someone's hand snags his wrist and they're moving.

The world blurs just a little as Sonic hauls him across the room at lightning speed to drag him behind an overturned table. Scourge clutches the lapels of his jacket and tries to force his racing heartbeat to settle. For a second, they just breathe.

"Okay, we need to coordinate," Sonic says belatedly.

"Don't tell me what to do," Scourge says, mostly on reflex.

Sonic rolls his eyes. "If you draw his fire, I'll go behind to take him offguard. Think you can do that?"

"What? No. You draw his fire and I'll sneak up behind him."

"Yeah, maybe I'd do that if I had any faith at all in your stealth. You aren't exactly subtle, bud."

Scourge thinks back to every mission that involved some level of sabotage/stealth/general sneakery and their inevitably disastrous ends and winces. Unfortunately, he has a point. "Fine, whatever. Don't mess this up, dweeb." A blast of chaos energy rocks the floor beneath their feet - time's up. Finitevus is here.

Scourge breaks for the left.

"Hey old man, having trouble keeping up?" He leaps into the air as Finitevus goes for a sweeping kick and curls into a spindash, aimed at the scientist's head. Predictably, he sails right into a ring portal and falls out several feet away. In midair, he uncurls and kicks off the ground to rebound towards Finietvus.

The Doc raises his hands coated in Chaos energy and actually catches the spindash. For a moment, they war against each other - dark energy to living buzzsaw - before Finitevus shoves back and they break apart.

Scourge hits the ground in a crouch and lunges again. This time, he feints an uppercut followed up with a knee strike to the gut. The echidna stumbles back, but recovers almost instantly. As Scourge goes in for another strike, Finitevus snags his collar and yanks him off-balance, slamming him into the dirt. Scourge tries to wriggle out of his grip, but the Doc pins him to the ground with a hand on his throat and a knee on his chest.

"I can't say I haven't been waiting for this," the mad scientist breathes, and raises a handful of swirling black energy.

Scourge scrabbles helplessly at his wrist and wonders, briefly, if this is it.

And then a blue ball of spikes rockets out of nowhere, smacking into the back of Finitevus' head so hard the floor creaks when he faceplants. Scourge kicks him off and rolls back onto his feet, smacking away Sonic's outstretched hand. The echidna staggers upright, but his shield is broken and Sonic and Scourge poised on either side of him. The echidna eyes them warily, rings at the ready, and for a second no one moves.

"Got it!" Fiona's voice breaks the spell.

Sonic's concentration slips. Scourge can see it; the way his posture straightens slightly, the way he half-turns to face her. Finitevus sees it too.

And then Finitevus' hands are up, radiating dark energy, and Scourge drops into a defensive stance 'cause the blue buffoon can get himself killed if he wants but Scourge is going down fighting- but Finitevus isn't looking at either of them.

He's looking behind them.

At Jules.

Jules, who has no Chaos abilities, can't break the sound barrier on a whim, can't dodge bullets point-blank.

Jules, who both is his father and isn't, who's a machine but still alive, who stood across from Scourge in a dark room and didn't flinch though Scourge held his life in his hands, who loves his wife and child and wouldn't hesitate to die for either of them.

Jules, who would walk a random stranger through a panic attack on the street but can't dodge a Chaos spear if it's pointed at his chest.

Time slows down to a crawl. Scourge doesn't think.

He just moves.

The last thing he sees, as pain erupts from his chest like lightning and the world is drowned out by the black of corrupted Chaos energy, is the bright red of Jules' horrified eyes.

There's a beeping noise somewhere near his ear. Fiona's phone, probably (even though it sounds nothing like her alarm). Scourge reaches up to shut it off and is stopped halfway by the clink of cold metal.

...huh?

He opens his eyes to dim electric light and a pounding headache. There's a hard surface beneath his back, thin sheets around him, and a metallic chill around his wrists, ankles, and throat.

Through the haze, something about the last one feels familiar.

Beside him, something rustles, and a soft voice says, "Awake, then?"

"Dad?" Scourge mumbles foggily. For a moment he's eight again, in the hospital after a near-drowning, and his dad took a whole day off from work to rush to his bedside and hold his hand. It was the first time he'd seen him in a week.

Then reality catches up and reminds him that no, his dad is dead and whatever's going on here is something to worry about. The fog is gone in an instant.

Scourge's eyes snap open and he throws himself as much he can to the far side of the bed from the figure standing there now. Jules is there - a little scratched and dinged up but very much alive.

There's a flicker of something like relief inside him before Scourge stuffs it down and crushes it very firmly. Chaos, Fiona was right. He let his stupid hangups about this robian get out of hand, and now look what's happened - the mission went south, Scourge is chained to a hospital bed, the rest of the Destructix are nowhere to be seen, and worst of all, he made a heroic sacrifice like he's Sonic or something.

Chaos, Scourge is never living this one down.

"It's good to see you're moving around already," Da- Jules says in that same too-soft tone. "Some of the doctors were convinced you wouldn't live another day. I suppose any son of mine, even from another dimension, is just too durned stubborn to go out like that..."

"Don't," Scourge rasps.

Jules blinks at him. "Pardon?"

"That." Scourge lets go of the bed's railing just long enough to gesture irritably. "I'm not your son. Don't call me that."

Instead of rearing back in offense or dropping the nice act altogether, Jules tilts his head slightly, as though in recognition. "Ah," he says after a moment. "So that was you."

Scourge freezes and tries to play it off. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That day in front of Chuck's diner," Jules says. "That was you. I wasn't sure, since you were still supposed to be in Zone Jail then."

"Chuck's diner? What?" Scourge forces a laugh. It comes out entirely fake and just a little unhinged.

"You had a panic attack," Jules continues, unperturbed. "I walked you through it. Honestly, at the time, I thought it was because of me."

It was because of you, Scourge wants to say. Instead, he asks, "Whaddya mean?"

Jules gestures vaguely to himself. "I'm a robian," he says. "Robotnik put Knothole through a lot when the roboticizor was still functioning. Plenty of people have had... adverse reactions to my body in the past. It's unfortunate but can't really be helped, except through time and patience."

...for some reason, that stings. Scourge pushes the thought away and snorts. "Sucks to be you. Don't see what that has to do with me."

"You did ask," Jules reminds him, which is fair. He supposes. They lapse into silence.

Scourge slumps against the bed, a little more relaxed with no attack evidently imminent, and holds up a hand to the light. The dangling cuff glints coldly. He can't reach the collar on his neck, but he suspects it shines the same way - like the inhibitors back at Zone Jail. "You guys already talked to Zonic, then?" he guesses.

He's not really expecting an answer, but Jules gives one anyway. "We did. He gave us that inhibitor collar you're wearing right now." Nailed it. "He wanted to take you back with him to Zone Jail right away, but with the condition you were in, we didn't want to risk moving you until you were stable."

Scourge flexes his fingers, watching the muscles move. He'd suspected already, given how drained he feels right now, but knowing that he's wearing the collar is... disheartening. That level of powerlessness is something he'd never wanted to feel again. "I'm stable now. So when will you be moving me?"

Jules hesitates. "Now that you're awake, we'll probably call Zonic to pick you up sometime tomorrow. It's nighttime right now."

"What? How long was I out?"

"Two days."

Two days, and he's still here? Either the Destructix got nabbed too (possible), are planning a rescue mission (unlikely), or ditched (most likely). That... also stings. A lot. He'd liked Fiona, and he was getting used to the rest of the idiots, too.

"What about my team?" he asks.

"Vanished. They tried to retrieve you but retreated when reinforcements arrived."

It doesn't mean much - he is, after all, their strongest fighter and tactically it makes sense to avoid losing him if possible - but it makes Scourge feel better to know they'd at least tried. He lets his hand fall back to the bed with a metallic jingle.

"I still don't understand," Jules says, and Chaos, why won't he shut up? Is this something inherent to Sonic's family? "Why did you save me?"

Scourge inspects the patterns of cracks on the ceiling. That one looks like Sleuth Dog's face. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he mumbles.

"You took an attack meant for me. That much concentrated Chaos energy would've killed me - it's likely the only reason you survived is because you're a very adept controller."

"Sounds like you already have an answer to me."

There's a brief pause. Scourge continues avoiding eye contact. "I do have an idea," Jules says softly. "But I'd like to hear a confirmation from your own mouth."

Scourge doesn't say anything.

What's he supposed to say - that every time he sees Jules some stupid, long-dead part of him longs for his approval? That Jules is dredging up memories better left buried? That when he saw his dad - any version of him - in danger, that his first instinct was to protect him, despite everything he'd done?

Ha. Yeah, right.

"Think what you want, old man." Scourge bares his teeth. "It doesn't mean anything. It was an accident."

Jules doesn't waver. "I think we both know that's not true."

Can't this guy take no for an answer? Scourge huffs and rolls over as much as he can so his back is toward Jules. "Leave," he says. It's what you're best at, after all.

"Sonic heard that you attacked the ceremony to kidnap Chuck."

Scourge has a sudden, sinking feeling he knows where this is going. "I don't care. Go away."

Jules marches on, implacable. "He said that halfway through, after Chuck escaped, Finitevus told you to switch targets. That the new target was me."

"Shut up!"

"And that when you heard I was in danger, you-"

"So I called it off, alright?" Scourge bolts upright. The handcuffs snap back against his wrists painfully and his ankles scream as the cuffs cut into his skin, but he's too furious and aching and raw to care. "Yeah, I called off the mission. Yeah, I took that stupid attack. It doesn't change anything! I'm still your enemy, I'm still going to kill Sonic, I'm still going to tear apart your world and everything you love! So what if I- if I..."

"Risked all that to save one broken-down, tactically unimportant robian?" Jules finishes quietly.

"Yes! No!" Scourge tries to bury his face in his hands and can't even do that, damn this tiny range of motion. "Will you leave me alone?" Metal glints in the corner of his eye as Jules reaches out a hand. Scourge growls deep in his throat until the hand is slowly drawn back.

Mercifully, the robian is silent while Scourge desperately tries to keep himself from falling apart. Chaos, what is wrong with him?

"What do you want from me," he mutters.

This time, it's Jules who looks away. "There's not much time before I have to call Zonic in," he says. "Before he left the first time, there was talk of... life in solitary confinement. Or execution."

Breathe. It's fine. Scourge has been in worse scrapes before. "I can see where the similarities between you and my dad come in," he says softly. Venomously. "He never hesitated to lock me away, either." Sure, it hadn't exactly been tossing him in a prison cell and throwing away the key, but the perpetual grounding to an empty mansion, the total abandonment of him to an endless stream of nannies... and then, of course, that fiasco right before he died.

Dads. So eager to foist their screwups on other people, wash their hands and move on.

"Doesn't any of this setup seem odd to you?" Jules asks abruptly.

Scourge blinks, thrown. "What? You hit your head somewhere, old man?"

"Think about it. You're a top-priority prisoner. You've broken out of Zone Jail. And yet your only security here is an inhibitor collar, some handcuffs, and a broken-down old robian."

...there's a trap here somewhere, Scourge knows it. "Yesss?" He eyes Jules warily. Is this some kinda reverse-psychology thing?

Jules laughs wearily. "You're not the only one with emotional ties he can't quite cut, son."

"Don't call me that," Scourge says reflexively before the weight of Jules' words catch up to him. "Wait, what? Are you saying-" and then he cuts off, because that's so ridiculous it shouldn't be said out loud.

"Yes," Jules confirms. "I volunteered for guard duty because I had to ask, first. To make sure for myself that something of my son is in there."

"I am not your son," Scourge snaps. Distantly, some part of him recognizes that he's being actively detrimental - that if he plays his cards right he could actually walk out of this free - but he's past that kind of rational behavior now. "You're chasing ghosts, old man! Stop looking for stuff that isn't gonna happen!"

"You're not my son," Jules agrees. "You're not my Sonic. But you're a Sonic, and somewhere... that potential for great good is inside you."

And isn't that exactly what Sonic had said on their last birthday - the day he'd finally ditched that lame Anti-Sonic moniker, had finally stepped out of Sonic's shadow into his own light - that all it'd take is a bit of decency, and Scourge would be just like him? The echo stills him.

"You're making a mistake," he says hoarsely. He's not going back to Zone Jail, he'll die before he goes back to that hellhole, but he needs Jules to understand this. "I'm not Sonic. I'm no hero. If you let me go, I'm just gonna go right back to doing what I did before. People will die because of you."

"No, they won't," Jules says, half-smiling. "I've done my research. The Destructix don't kill. You wreak havoc and destroy things, but... no bodies. I understand it's to avoid trouble with G.U.N.," he adds, holding up a hand to forestall Scourge's protests, "But you don't have a body count. That's important."

Shows what he knows - but Scourge can't bring himself to point out the obvious. "I still ruin lives," Scourge says instead. "There's other ways to kill people without holding a gun to their heads."

"I know. And that's where I'm being selfish." The half-smile turns into a full smile, but it's so sad and wracked with exhaustion and bitterness that Scourge has to look away. "I... I lost my son once. I can't help it... I can't watch a son of mine - from any universe - be destroyed while I can do anything to stop it. I'm not a good person, Scourge. I've lost too much to try. So I'm going to be selfish, just this once, and hope you don't make me regret it."

Scourge is silent. He's silent when Jules stands up and unlocks the cuffs, one by one. He's silent when Jules reaches up to his throat to unlock the inhibitor, and he's silent when it falls away and power rushes freely beneath his skin once more.

His boots are on the floor, suit jacket draped over a chair. He pulls on the shoes and digs through the pockets until he finds his sunglasses, but leaves the jacket behind.

"Scourge," Jules says quietly, as Scourge pushes the window open. He hesitates over the window sill, half inside and half out.

If Jules asks him to stay, he doesn't know what he'll do.

But he doesn't. In the end, Jules looks down and whispers, "If you ever need somewhere to rest, my home is always open. Till then... be safe, son."

The words catch in Scourge's throat. He nods, wordlessly, and drops out of the window to land lightly on his feet on the ground below. For a moment, he dallies beneath the window, waiting for-

For...

He doesn't know. Scourge shivers in the cool night air and starts running.

...thanks, Dad.

He finds the base a few hours later, jogging to the next town over and hopping a train the rest of the way. When he walks in, the base goes dead silent.

Fiona leaps up from the circle of Destructix - planning a rescue mission, he later finds out - and tackles him, hugging and pounding him in equal measure. She cries a little too, which he only discovers when she points out he's tearing up himself. The Destructix surround them, yelling over each other and clapping him on the back until Simian picks them all up in a group hug. It's at that point that Scourge declares he's done with all this mushy stuff and if they don't knock it off he won't bother coming back next time. Fiona announces that if there is a next time he won't have to worry about coming back because she'll kill him first, and Simian gives them all one last squeeze before turning them loose.

Scourge retrieves his leather jacket with a sense of great relief and they all end up watching another trashy samurai movie, which Lightning ruins again. Fiona holds him tight the whole time and doesn't chew him out like he deserves, for which Scourge is unendingly grateful.

He doesn't go back to the house. He pulls jobs with the Destructix, they beat up on Sonic and his lackeys, they have one run-in which Finitevus that they come off much worse for. And they watch crappy movies, eat ridiculous amounts of junk food, and get personally banned from every arcade and amusement park across the continent. He's... not gonna lie, it's actually pretty fun.

But in the back of his head, the house is always there. The robian bustling around the empty kitchen in a pink apron. The scent of pancakes frying. Till then... be safe, son.

It takes a long time - months of denial, of wondering and longing and furious self-restraint - but he caves eventually.

He shows up on a morning he knows Sonic and his mom won't be there. He doesn't knock on the door, or ring the bell. Mostly, he just hovers outside, unable to work up his nerve to do anything.

He's about to leave when the door swings open. Jules stands there, looking exactly the same as he did that night by the hospital bed, with eyes too soft for his wayward not-son. Scourge, half-frozen on the sidewalk, searches for something to say and comes up empty. They stare at each other silently.

Scourge shoves his hands in his pockets and forces back the lump in his throat. "I was in the area, so I dropped by," he mutters. "Don't think this means anything."

Jules looks at him for a long moment and Scourge forgets to breathe. Slowly, softly, his dad smiles. "Welcome home, son."