#i have no idea what's going on with my art right now no clue how this spawned

[077891st]

Postmaster Pearl reporting for duty!!

[lilliezzzzz-fics]

Dear Noisy Neighbour, !

pairing: streamer!lando norris x insomniac!reader author's note: so, i'm sorry for my abscence, this fic caused me problems and also i've been busy with art stuff!! sorry for being gone for... a month. but!! i hope you enjoy this fic!! gn!reader, no use of y/n warnings: one liiittle (🤏) sex joke, sleeping problems, neighbours-to-something, one flirty remark, that's about it i think word count: 1.8k

You’ve had many sleepless nights, far too many to count. Though none of them were quite as loud as this one. What sounded like banging coming from the wall right beside you, with uncontrollable laughter following suit. Some muffled words that you were too tired to make sense of, more laughter, and clicking on a keyboard.

You turn in your bed, groaning into your pillow. You assumed that the… Friendly ruckus was caused by your newly moved-in neighbor, who you only knew of because of the endless amount of moving boxes placed in the building's corridor. The mess was no problem, you knew moving would always be a messy process, so you thought nothing of it. On the contrary, you somewhat looked forward to meeting the mystery neighbor.

But now you couldn’t say those positive feelings remained. Not when he was yelling at the top of his lungs at 2 in the morning. You couldn’t even fathom why he was even up now. Quite frankly, you don’t want to either. With his yelling and groaning, only two things were coming to mind, either he was getting killed, or he was… Well, honestly you’d rather not think about it.

The darkness in your room is a familiar comfort, although you always swear there’s movement hiding beneath it somehow. Groggily, you sit up, swinging your legs off of your bed. Your feet search the floor underneath them, trying to find the warm slippers usually placed there. Once you find them, you messily slide your feet into them, almost putting them on the wrong way.

Your steps are slow, almost dragging your feet across your bedroom floor to find the lamp sitting on your desk. Your hand feels the cold surface, finding the button to turn it on. Soon the room is slightly illuminated by its warm glow, a yellowish light brushing the walls. Though it wasn’t peaceful, still, with your neighbour yelling clear enough that you could hear it. He’s yelling at some guy, Max, about some… Enemy?

Perhaps you should give him a knock. Like a friendly not-so-friendly reminder that he doesn’t live alone in this building. Or maybe that’s too rude.

You find yourself grumbling in the chair, unsure of what to do. You couldn’t go to bed just yet, since he was still awake, but you didn’t want to just sit around. Also, you really wanted to do something about the noise. You don’t think you’d live another day if this continued for days on end. However, you had no clue how to tell him off. You could of course just confront him, but you didn’t have the energy to potentially get into an argument at this time of night, so that was out of the question. Maybe you could get your landlord to tell him off? No, actually. That’s probably a bit too harsh. 

A sigh escapes you. You had zero clue on what to do. You slide open a drawer, rummaging through it for something to keep you entertained for the night. It’s unorganized, with different junk and scrap scattered amongst the material stored there.

In the drawer, your eyes land on a bright yellow notepad, which gives you an idea of how to tell your new neighbour off without being too rude.

You take out the notepad, as well as a pen you found lying inside the drawer. The pen gives off a soft click as you pop the cap off. It takes you a while to figure out what to write, and multiple attempts or ideas are quickly scrapped and thrown into the bin placed beside your desk. Eventually, you land on a note that goes as follows:

Dear Noisy Neighbour, 

I hope you find your new place to your liking! It’s nice to have someone new in the building, but you’re causing quite a ruckus. There are a lot of  people who are trying to or are currently sleeping,  so please tone it down! - your new neighbour :) 

You grab the note, shuffling out of your chair and out of your bedroom. You had to squint as you made your way towards your front door, making sure not to trip over anything, or yourself for that matter. You unlock the door, reaching for the handle and creaking the door open. The corridor was dark, almost tranquil, as you stepped out into it. Although it’s kind of cold.

Though, loud laughter interrupts the short peace you had, reminding you why you were out here in the first place. You turn to his door, stepping around the boxes placed at your feet like you’re finding your way through a maze. You stop in front of his door, the noise even louder now that you’re up close. His British accent is far clearer, and you can somewhat distinguish what he’s talking about.

For a moment, you just stand there as if you’re unsure of what to do. Honestly, you feel kind of silly standing here in the dark and telling someone off via stationary. The pitch-black of the corridor envelops you in a brief silence—until your neighbour's yelp makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

You steel yourself as you press the bright yellow note onto his wooden door, the bottom curling upward slightly. You press down on the note, flattening it with your palm. His boisterous laughter once again rings through the silent night and you physically flinch, stepping back from the door to calm your beating heart. Your eyes narrow, and your nose crinkles at his unashamed volume.

You take a step back, eyes scanning over the bright yellow patch now present on his front door. It stands out even in the dark of the night, and you’re honestly a little afraid. You couldn’t imagine how he would reply to it. Maybe he’d be pissed. Well, you’re already here; better not to regret anything.

Lando wasn’t sure what to make of the passive-aggressive note stuck to his front door. The letters were smudged and it was slightly crinkled in the corners, with a smiley face in the corner trying its best to show some friendliness. It usually would amuse him, but this time for some odd reason, it didn’t. If he were honest, he only felt bad. Clearly, he hadn’t made a good first impression on whoever made it.

Gently, he peeled the note off of the door and put it in his pocket. He’ll have to put it up somewhere so he remembers to keep quiet during streams. His steps back into the apartment are sluggish; his mind drifting off. The blue light from his computer screen makes his eyes hurt as he retreats to his bedroom. He winces, stepping towards his screen and pulling out the note—pressing it to the top left corner of his middle monitor.

He doesn’t think of it at the moment, but his hand rests lingering—fingertips brushing against the slightly crumpled paper. His raised arm falls to his side as he crumbles into his chair like a man defeated. 

Staying up too late like this isn’t good for him; his mind won’t stop running. He shouldn’t let a small note affect him like this, especially not when it’s something as easy to fix as this. Hell—he’s a streamer—he’s used to things like this. People who he didn’t know commenting on how obnoxious he was. He shouldn’t care. But he does. 

It’s stupid, really. But as he sits in his chair he can’t help but run scenarios in his head, playing out different ways to apologise. Maybe he could get his neighbour a gift? Maybe he should put all the boxes that’d been left in the hallway into his apartment (which he should’ve done the moment he got here, it’d slipped his mind—he swears). Maybe he could even bake them something—or well, not with his baking skills—he has to do something.

The clock ticking in his room turns into background noise as time slips through him; no longer aware of the passage of the time. Minutes turn into hours as guilt continues to reside in his body like a leech, sucking away all his other thoughts. He only realises how long he’s been awake when the birds chirping outside his window brings him back.

He sighs—not of relief—but of an overwhelm he can’t seem to describe. The slight creak of his chair when he leans back seems louder than ever—his curls that tickle the back of his neck feeling like it’s giving him a rash, despite them being so soft.

His hands reach into the drawer he’d left open for some reason, hands brushing over the notebook that he intended to use as a journal; however that intention didn’t last. But now he thought of something else he could use it for. Shuffling it out of the already filled drawer, he slips it in front of the keyboard. He slips out a pencil and hovers it over the open notebook. He thought of something to write, but then—it doesn’t fit. Writing, scrapping, then re-writing. Over and over til he finds something that fits. And eventually, he does.

A script that he thinks that he could rehearse to the person complaining, a formal apology. He rises a little too quickly out of his chair, stumbling when he stands. Shuffling through his bedroom, in the same pajamas he put on when he thought to sleep, he exits into his main living area; rehearsing the scripted apology in unintelligible mumbles. 

With his eyes still on the paper—and his handwriting that looks closer to incoherent scribbles—he steps into his slippers and opens his door. 

The loud creak that the door emits when he exits usually would put him off, but he doesn’t pay attention, his mumbles sounding like the ramblings of a madman. His steps are deliberate as he walks through the maze of boxes and he’s just a few steps away from his next-door neighbours apartment when he hears the cough of a person a bit too close for comfort.

His eyes drift up to find yours.

The man in front of you looks messy. Not the clean type of messy that you’d expect, no, but a messy that only a rugged, distressed man could be. He looks only a breath away from breaking down. His pupils are dilated and theres a flustered expression on his face as his eyes meet yours, and he mutters an: “oh fuck”. 

A curl springs in front of his face as he stumbles to start speaking, “I, uh- shit. Uhm, I’m sorry for being noisy, I didn’t realise that- uhm, I didn’t realise my impact on the others in the building-”

You can’t help but laugh—his expression is a little pitiful as his lips tremble with something you could only call guilt.

“You don’t need to be so formal,” you smile, hand brushing the back of your neck, “I only wanted you to be a bit quieter.”

God, he was incredibly cute. 

“Ah.” His cheeks reddened as he breathed out. Long and heavy, “Well, I’m sorry.”

His mouth opens to probably say something else—maybe another dumbfounded apology—or maybe something else, but he closes it once again with a small smile on his face, and red brushing his cheeks.

“Well, just keep the note in mind, for future nights, okay?” you flash him a grin, “I’ll see you around, cutie.” 

©lilliezzzzz-fics: please don't copy or distribute my work on any platform

credits: @/cafekitsune for the dividers <3

[paperclipninja]

I'm gonna sound very old person yells at cloud but I don't care, I feel like I need to say this. We all (well most of us) know that messaging Neil with any headcanons/theories/wishes/hopes/dreams to do with the show is a no-go because it could potentially compromise the story he wants to tell or ends up telling. And yes, he is a grown up who chooses what to respond to etc and I think it's wonderful he engages with fans and answers a lot of lovely and interesting questions about his process, writing and journey etc.

However, there is another reason not to send theories and ideas about how the show should go to the show creator in the hope of a response: it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter whether a theory is correct, or a speculation may or may not play out. That is why fandom exists.

Online fandom is where we all come together to yell and cry and throw around weird-ass ideas and theories and look at art and read fanfic and unite in our love of characters and a show. A huge part of being in fandom, is the way fandom theories become like an understood little bit of fanon lore that some people attach to, others disregard. But it doesn't matter. And part of the fun of fandom, is when a new season or a new episode of the show comes out, you have this collective catalogue of ideas and theories and headcanons and you get to yell and scream, "omg it happened1" or "lol that that thing was ever talked about" or "thank god that theory didn't come to pass".

Wanting to know now (not that we ever will) and not wanting to wait until the next season to find out the answers diminishes the fandom experience. I cannot stress enough how much we are in the absolute peak of the fandom experience right now. The between seasons time is the ultimate time to be a part of a fandom (as I'm sure many people are well aware), knowing there's another season coming energises everyone to create and connect and speculate and it's glorious! I know it feels like it'll be like this forever, but it won't. Next season is the last and yes, there will be a flurry and uptick of all the energy and excitement once again, and I absolutely believe Good Omens fandom will live on and remain active and thrumming. But there won't be theories and what ifs and hunting for clues for the next season, and over time it will dwindle a little and plateau and some people will fall into other fandoms, and while it will probably bubble away, there won't be the anticipation that sits with us now.

My point is, fandom is where we get to throw around ideas and flail and be ridiculous and also serious sometimes, but it's all for us. For the fans. Showing Neil theories or getting in a flap about a particular speculation and asking if x, y, or z might happen isn't just about putting the creator in an awkward spot, it takes away what fandom is about. Just let this time be ours. If you haven't been in fandom before, enjoy it! Don't be in a hurry to seek definitive answers or know things either way.

It doesn't matter if any or none or all of the things that float around end up being correct or incorrect. Fandom isn't about being right. It's about being a part of a community and being able to share ideas and it's about it being FUN.

So TL;DR Stop sending Neil fan ideas because that is for fandom, not for the creator.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

David Gaider: "Just to clarify the "they're probably why you'll never see Fenris" thing, as it's spawned commentary: 1. It's the reasoning as was explained to me back then. 2. Obviously, if Bio *really* wanted to, they'd find a way around it. But it was a complication that meant he couldn't be included casually." [source]

[miistersunshin3]

HIHI no clue if your requests r open but OMG I LOVED UR SAL X MEANGIRL!READER SMM 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ IS THERE A CHANCE WE CLD GET MOREE? 🫶🫶 🍰

Star struck pt. 2 ☆

Sal Fisher x meangirl!reader

a/n : part two yippeeee!! And yes my request are open so feel free to send more *\(^o^)/*

Enjoy!

-...he just couldn't keep staring as you slowly walked away, your hair swaying perfectly with each and every step, did you really just say that to him? it couldn't be, right? he must be dreaming

"sal, dude.. Sal! cmon bro we're gonna be late again, lets go" Larry said slightly annoyed, not having quite witnessed what just happened a few seconds ago.

Sal, having finally just snapped out of the trance you put him in, turned back around to face him and then coming at him with a little sarcastic

"pfft as if you care, weren't you the one that skipped first period today?"

"yeah yeah, lets just go now"

-needless to say you had that boy Star Struck (hihi see what I did there ^_−☆)

-even in the afternoon when the group hung out together, he just couldn't get his mind off of you and that stupid thing you said. Yet he was too nervous to tell his friends, knowing they were opposed to the idea of him liking.

-his friends, of course noticed his behavior, but decided to not comment on it thinking it was probably just him getting into his own head again.

.............................................................………………………

-at night, when everyone was fast asleep, he still caught himself thinking about you. you. you. you. and bless his poor soul, he just couldn't stop.

-with his mask off and his face in his pillow curling up in his bed, the duvet softly covering his body and hair falling freely, he couldn't help but wonder about your reaction to him without the mask. his face, his scarred broken then patched together again face, as he not so much liked to think about it.

-and god you were right, he's just so pathetic: laying in his bed thinking of you while a tear slowly makes its way down the less scarred side of his face. you and your friends make fun of him every day and yet he still feels so deeply connected to you, wanting you to hold him, to love him.

-once he does fall asleep, you even manage to follow him in his dreams: laying side by side together on his bed, with your arms around him and his head on your chest, he didn't have that uncomfortable border between the two of you, just his bare face touching the soft fabric of your shirt. your soft voice in his ears "you know Sal, for me you are truly the prettiest thing" it was like heaven...

-friday, the ninth of august, 06:45. is what the alarm clock read as he softly stirred awake despite not wanting to wake up from his dream. finally after so many nights of restless sleep, he had an actually dream, not one of those nightmares people would also only describe as dreams.

...................................................................…………………

-between periods, as Sal and Ash were making their way to art class, one of the few classes they share, they hear slight laughter and rambling behind them, knowing who it is by the obvious smell of perfume you always use. god it made him crazy.

-his thoughts were quickly disrupted by an obnoxious voice

"hey, you. yeah I'm talking to you blue hair and pigtails, you enjoy being a walking joke?" one of your friends snared.

"no wonder you only hang out with other weirdos, how about you all go back to the freak show your supposed to run?" another one joked making you laugh harder than you should have.

"oh yeah, you'd be the main attraction" you cockily say as you walk past him still smiling.

"fuckin' weirdos" the first one say as she purposefully bumps into Ashley while walking by.

-gosh why did you have to be so mean... and beautiful at the same time

....................................................................…………………

-its not that you hated Sal.. you didn't even dislike him. its just that... he's just so fun to mess with, I mean cmon he's the perfect target, mask and everything. you still weren't quite fond of his friends tho, but they were also okay.

-you did feel bad sometimes after saying something to him, even if he wouldn't react, your first thought with him was always 'did I take it to far now?' which was weird since you've never thought that when you'd do the same things with other people.

-but the sight you were going to witness in a few minutes was unbelievable to you..

..................................................................……………………

-this was truly the worst thing that could happen to him, he was defenseless. so vulnerable, so miserable, so pathetic.

-two of your male 'friends' had caught him alone in one of the storage rooms of the art classroom and decided they wanted to find out what lies under that mask of his.

-with one of them trying to take his prosthetic off and the other holding his hands so he couldn't defend himself even if he tried, he was done for... or so he thought.

-the creek of the door halted their movement only to reveal you, looking as beautiful as ever yet you had a bewildered looking on your face from seeing the scene in front of you.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" you say as you look the one wanting to take his mask in the eyes.

"oh cmon, we were just having some fun here, no need to ruin it" the other one spits.

"this is what you call fun? that's pretty sad if you ask me, I mean I get the verbal stuff but don't you think this is a bit too much?" you snap back.

"why the fuck are you defending him right now? he's fucking pathetic look at him" "and...? you know what I think, I think you're being just as if not more pathetic than he is right now, you are nothing (friends names), without me most people in this school probably wouldn't know you so shut it. and don't you dare tell anyone what happened here" you snarl.

"oh and what if we do tell, what are you gonna do, huh? tell your mommy? or the principal?" your other friend says in a fake whiny tone.

"I know what you did to that girl, you know she really did love you so much (friend name 1) it would be a shame if everyone knew that you're a lying cheating skank and not that you guys just broke up normally and oh (friend name 2) I didn't know you had room to talk when literally all you do is hook up with Mrs. Miller every Friday, do you wanna get kicked out of school, I don't think so. and trust me, once I confirm the rumors its over for you"

“You’re no fun” one of them says as they leave.

- silence. pure silence and you decide to break it.

“You okay?” You ask in a genuine tone. He takes a moment to reply speaking with a stutter “yeah, all good”

“Don’t worry I didn’t see anything” referring to his face, you cross your arms and lean against the door frame, he looks down at the ground in shame, his hands slightly shaking.

"do I make you nervous Sal?" you ask teasingly and after that you chuckle slightly as he's frozen in place "its okay, I get it"

a few moments pass when he finally has the courage to look at you again, god why was he like this when he was around you. "you owe me, big time" "yeah" he finally answers "what do you need?" he asks in a slightly nervous voice, he cannot talk to girls for the life of him (look at his first encounter with Ash in the game (=´∀｀))

you start to think, what do you need..? he then speaks again "I'll get you anything you want" nervousness still ringing in his voice "woah, don't get to ahead of yourself weirdo" you tease.

as you slowly leave the room you say "I'll think of something, sweetheart" you send him a quick smile while leaving and not to forget that wink you shot him once before.

-meanwhile he thinks he’s died because of that nickname, but don’t worry your smile brought him back to life, you just really know how to make his heart flutter. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

..................................................................……………………

a/n : I hope you guys enjoyed(≧∀≦) if you have any wishes feel free to send me requests!! (P.s I love bullying Sal hihi)

[ticifics]

Sweet Temptation

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: "You really don't have any idea, do you?" He leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel his heat enveloping you, stealing any breath you had left. "Do I have to show you?"

Warnings: Peter being a lovesick idiot, and themes of insecurity and self-image

A/N: It was my third request - anon, I hope you like it! 🩷

When Peter saw you enter the basement, he knew something was wrong right away. He didn’t need words or gestures, just that little frown and the way you avoided looking directly at him. Peter became an expert on you, recognizing the slightest changes in your face, as if each expression were a clue in a puzzle that only he could decipher.

Without thinking twice, he was already running to the other side of town, to his favorite bakery. It was a small place, with shiny windows displaying sweets that looked like true works of art: pastel-colored macarons, éclairs with sparkling icing, tiny cupcakes decorated with flower petals. Everything there was delicate, perfect.

He paused for a moment in the doorway, holding his breath. It was impossible not to associate you with this place. Those refined pastries had the same elegance as you, as if the baker had created them with you in mind. And Peter, with his thoughts always racing, found himself once again wondering what it would be like to take you there on a real date. He would make some silly joke to get a smile, then insist that you try the chocolate éclair. When he finally kissed you, it would taste sweet with vanilla and sugar.

"Stop daydreaming, Maximoff," he muttered to himself, shaking his head before going in and ordering a selection of the best things in the display case. It was expensive, but that didn't matter. He just wanted to see you smile again.

When he came back, you were still in the basement, pacing back and forth. Your hair flying in every direction, a consequence of when you were too absorbed in your own thoughts.

And, man, he loved seeing you like that, it was one of the reasons he was always annoying you. Your hair whipping in all directions was a sight to behold. Simply fantastic.

Cyclone. That was how people knew you.

But they had no idea that someone with such destructive powers could work wonders on especially hot days. Peter would melt against your body when you summoned a gentle breeze, driving away the heat with a simple movement of your fingers. He would sigh when he felt the cool air blow against his hair, and then he would go all limp until his body returned to a normal temperature. What could he do? He was especially sensitive to heat.

He stopped at the entrance, holding the box of sweets like it was some kind of trophy.

"I'm back!" he announced, with that smug smile he always used to hide any vulnerability. He waved the box in the air. "And look, I brought something that suits you perfectly."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Oh, yeah? And what would that be?"

"Pretty, delicate… and very expensive." He winked at you, walking into the basement and placing the box on the small table in the corner.

You laughed softly, but not as lightly as usual. There was still something different, and it made Peter's chest tighten. He opened the box with an exaggerated flourish, revealing the perfectly arranged sweets, and picked up one of the macarons to offer you.

"Go on, try it. This one tastes like strawberry or something. It looks good."

You hesitated. It was an almost imperceptible movement, but enough for Peter to notice. "What is it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

"It's nothing." You shrugged, looking at the sweets as if they were some kind of trap. "It's just… not everyone has a super fast metabolism like you."

"You're kidding, right?" Peter laughed, but the sound died quickly when he saw the way you looked away.

"No kidding," you said, crossing your arms defensively. "Those things are fattening, and… right now, I can't dream of gaining any extra weight."

He fell silent, waiting for you to continue, but what came next was a whisper that hit him like a punch. "I'm already huge."

The words hung in the air, heavy, and something inside him snapped. He'd never heard you speak of yourself so rudely. How could you see yourself that way? To him, you were everything. Perfect.

"You're not serious," he said, his voice lower than usual, almost a whisper. "Huge? Where did you get that from?"

You snorted, but didn't look at him. "Peter, forget it. You wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't you understand?" he repeated, taking a step forward. "I understand more than you think. And honestly, you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?" You finally looked up at him, but there was something vulnerable in your gaze that completely disarmed him.

"About you. About all of this." He gestured to the box of sweets and then to you. "You know what? I paid a fortune for this, so you're going to eat one of these macarons, even if I have to lecture you to do it."

You laughed nervously, but Peter wasn't kidding. He stepped closer, standing so close that he could feel your heat. "You have no idea how I see you, do you?"

"Peter…" you began, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

"I see someone amazing. Someone who makes me laugh even when I'm having the worst day. Someone who makes me want to be… I don't know, a little less of an asshole." He laughed, but the sound was strained. "And seriously, you are beautiful. Like, absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, beautiful. So stop saying such horrible things about yourself, because I can't even process how you could think that."

Peter didn’t look away, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face, the way you avoided looking at him, your nervous fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. There was a tension in the air, something that made the space between you seem even smaller than it was. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, husky, as if the words carried something greater than he could admit.

“You don’t understand, do you?” He took a step closer, close enough that you could feel the heat emanating from him. “You think it’s all in your head, that no one notices… but I see it. I see everything. And you… you’re exactly how a woman should be.”

He paused, letting the sentence hang in the air for a moment before continuing. His gaze ran up and down you, slow, intense, as if he were discovering something that left you completely breathless. When he spoke again, his tone had an almost devotional reverence, but still with the characteristic touch of humor that was so much his.

"There are no lines, you know? No straight lines. You're all curves, succulent, perfect. There are no sharp edges, just… a softness that seems divine. Like, honestly, it's unfair." He laughed, but he didn't look away, and the intensity in his eyes was almost disconcerting. "You're living proof that some things in this world were made to be admired. And if you can't see that, I think I'll have to spend the rest of my life trying to convince you."

He took another step, now so close that any movement from you would be enough to close the distance between you. The smile he gave was small, almost shy, but his eyes shone with something you couldn't define, a mix of desire, admiration and vulnerability.

"So, stop saying those horrible things about yourself, because, honestly? It drives me kind of crazy." He laughed nervously, running a hand through his silver hair, but his eyes were still fixed on you. "Like, how can someone look at you and not think they're looking at perfection? It doesn't make sense. Not to me."

The silence returned, but it was different now, heavy with everything he wasn't saying. His eyes were still locked on yours, but there was something else there, a hesitation, as if he was waiting for a sign, anything, to finally cross the line that seemed to separate them. And deep down, he knew he was already completely lost.

You didn't look away, even when you felt a blush heat your cheeks. It was as if you were trapped in the intensity of those dark eyes that seemed to see every part of you, dismantling any facade you might try to put up. His name escaped your lips in a low whisper, hesitant, but filled with something that not even you could name.

"Peter…"

Your tone hit you like a punch in the chest. The world seemed to have stopped spinning in that instant, leaving only the two of you, so close it was almost painful. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, your lips parted and your breathing fast, almost panting, as if you were running.

"What does that mean?" Your voice broke the silence, fragile and uncertain, as if you were risking something that could change everything.

Peter closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to find some strength within himself before taking the next step. And then he did. He approached you, so slowly that the air between you seemed to vibrate, charged with something undeniably electric. He lifted his hands, hesitant for a split second, before cupping your face between them.

The touch was a perfect contrast of firmness and delicacy. His thumbs brushed the warm skin of your cheeks, and the sigh that escaped Peter's lips was almost imperceptible, but so full of emotion that you felt the impact like a thunderclap. He gently brushed away a strand of hair that fell over your face, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary, as if he wanted to capture the feeling forever.

"You're so…" He began, but laughed, a dry sound, filled with something that seemed like a mix of frustration and self-mockery. He shook his head, his eyes shining with a heat that seemed to steal the air from the room. "You know what I'm good at doing?"

You couldn't answer, but he didn't expect you to. The closeness was unbearable, his breath mingling with yours, so hot you could feel the slightest difference in rhythm. He tilted his head, his face now so close his lips almost brushed yours.

"I ruin things, love." The word slipped from him in a whisper, low and husky, filled with something that made every nerve in your body throb. "It's what I always do. Always."

But there was a hopelessness there, a vulnerable glint in his eyes that didn't match the tone of his voice. It was like he knew he was crossing a line he could never come back from, but he couldn't help himself. He swallowed hard, and his touch on your face grew firmer, like he wanted to anchor you in that moment.

And then he leaned in even closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours in a way that was almost innocent, but held a promise that made your heart hammer in your chest. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. The desire was palpable, barely contained, overflowing in the way his eyes almost begged for permission, even though he knew he had already lost himself completely in you.

"Peter…" You whispered again, your voice a little hoarser, filled with a heat that seemed to melt any barrier between you. Slowly, your hands rose, hesitant, as if you were trying to contain the overwhelming wave that threatened to swallow you. But the moment your arms wrapped around his waist, something inside Peter gave way, a rope already so tense that it finally snapped.

He shuddered under your touch, his muscles contracting beneath your fingers, as if your every movement had the power to set him on fire. A curse escaped his lips, low and hoarse, more to himself than to you. "Fuck," he muttered, almost as a rant, his dark eyes sparkling with something between frustration and pure desire. "You really have no idea, do you?" He leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel his heat enveloping you, stealing any breath you had left. "Do I have to show you?"

His hands slid down your back, warm and firm, and before you could react, he pulled you in a movement too fast, almost careless, pressing your body against his. The impact made you gasp, and the soft sound only fueled the determination that burned in Peter’s eyes. His fingers found the curve of your waist, squeezing it with a mixture of reverence and desperation, as if he were trying to engrave that feeling into every fiber of his memory.

He knew he was ruined. You were too close, so unbearably close, making any rational thought impossible. All that existed was you—the way you molded perfectly against him, the heat of your body against his, the way your scent seemed to cloud all his senses.

And then he gave in.

His lips met yours with an urgency that bordered on desperation, as if he had been waiting for this moment for so long that he couldn't bear to wait even a second longer. How many times had he dreamed about this? How many nights had he spent losing himself in fantasies where you were his, where he could kiss you like he always wanted, without fear, without hesitation?

But no dream could compare to reality.

You were sweet, so sweet that he felt like he was drowning in a sea of ​​sugar and heat. Your soft lips moved against his in perfect synchrony, as if you had been made for this, to lose yourselves in each other. His hand rose from your waist to the base of your neck, holding it with careful firmness, while he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, seeking more of you, always more.

The world around him disappeared, as if nothing else mattered but that moment, that kiss that seemed to be the peak of everything. Peter felt intoxicated, every part of you burning against him like a living spark that set everything in its path ablaze. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to run. He wanted to stay right there, with you, feeling you. Living you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was barely a whisper, but it was firm enough for Peter, who could barely breathe, to understand. “Me too, Peter,” you said, and the word “love” seemed to fill the space between you, as if the world had stopped to listen. He couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his face, a smile that was pure, innocent, and full of joy that he could barely contain. It was as if all the pieces of the puzzle, that he hadn’t even known were out of place, finally fit together.

“You,” he whispered, and his voice shook. The words he wanted to say were trapped, because reality surpassed even his wildest dreams. He leaned toward you again, with an urgency that made your heart beat too fast, as if it wanted to jump out of your chest. When your lips met, it was as if the world exploded in a color and intensity he had never experienced. The kiss was more than passionate; it was a carnal and sweet desperation, a promise and a concession, as if he were trying to convey everything he had kept to himself.

His fingers explored your back, feeling the warm skin and the vibration of each sigh you took. He separated from you only for a moment, his breathing still rapid and his eyes fixed on yours, to make sure that this was real. With a gesture that was almost a ritual, he took one of the sweets, holding it at the level of your lips.

“Eat,” he said, his voice husky and filled with a kind of adoration he barely knew he possessed.

You didn’t hesitate, and your eyes lit up as you accepted the candy from his hand, the sensation bittersweet and sweet all the same, in a play of flavors and smiles. But before you could settle into that moment, with a mischievous movement, you bit Peter’s finger, and the surprise turned into a shiver that ran down your spine.

“Do you really think you can tease me and get away with it?” he asked, but the laugh that followed was a promise. He tilted his head back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as you laughed, and he pulled you closer, without another word. The kiss that followed was intense and uncontrolled, a meeting of souls that burned with every touch and every murmur. Peter was no longer in control; the excitement, the desire and the happiness overflowed, and he wanted more, he wanted everything, and that was what he needed.

[icanbringyouinhot]

Take something bad and make it into something good - Chapter 1

Paring: retired!Javier Peña x F!reader

Summary: After leaving Colombia, Javier slowly but surely slides into a post-burnout depression that he tries to self-medicate with alcohol and self-imposed exile. However, his friend Steve Murphy and his wife Connie are not having it. Turns out, their endless nagging got him in a very interesting situation that turned out to be exactly what he needed. (Though, he’ll never admit they were right.)

Here’s the song that inspired me: Something Good by Paul Haig (spotify link)

Warnings: I don’t think there are that many, honestly. There’s no smut (boo-hoo, this is my first fanfic ever posted in here, I’m shy ok?..). No physical description of the reader, though I did describe her clothes because we love a well dressed diva. Vague mentions of alcohol abuse. Mentions of blood, wounds, guns, and depression because our boy is traumatized by what went down in Colombia. The reader has one small tattoo on her forearm. Let me know if I forgot anything, this is my first fanfic, idk what the hell I’m doing.

Word count: Roughly 2k.

A/N: Ok so there’s a few things, PLEASE READ: (1) As I said two times already, this is my first fanfic, I’m nervous and insecure about my writing, so please, please, please, give me any advice you have, criticism, words of encouragement, anything that could help me grow. I ain’t no pussy, you can tell me this is shit and I won’t start crying (as far as you know teehee). (2) The story the reader is talking about is my latest hyper fixation, however, i couldn’t find the source. There’s an article that says it belongs to the Chumash Tribe, but there are also other articles and reddit posts that say the otherwise. I have no idea were I know this story from, it just spawned into my smooth brain. For safety measures I chose not to associate it to any Native American tribe and let the reader’s granny take the blow, because I don’t want to offend anyone and because I am from Europe, so idk what the hell I’m talking about and it would be disrespectful to pretend that I do. (3) The art pieces and the artist that are featured in this fanfic are real (they are also present in the little collage that I’ve made, there in the middle, for visual reference)!!! But i don’t have a clue when he did his work and I was too lazy to google it so i have no idea if they existed by the time Javier Peña left Colombia (or if the art pieces ever touched the American land). Once again this fanfic was a last minute thing I didn’t put that much thought into it. (4) Once again i pulled this story from my bum bum and i don’t know if there’s a Modern Art Gallery in Houston, but I don’t care, I take my artistic liberties to invent one on the spot. (5) English is not my first language!!!!!! I tried really hard to make my sentences beautiful and clear, because sometimes in my head everything is an absolute mess. Once again, Idk what the hell I’m talking about. This fanfic is 100% the concept of raw dogging life and see where it gets you.

Okay!!!!! I think that was it. I think we are ready for our first flight together. I have to inform you that I don’t have any right, license or experience into flying the FanFic Aircraft. Too late, you can’t get off now, I shut the doors. Thank you for choosing our company to fly towards your next destination: JAVI LAND!!!! (play national anthem.)

(Also if someone knows how to add those colorful spacers on a post, I also forgot how it’s called, please send me a message and explain to me like I’m your grandma, thank you!!!!!)

Okay here we go. I’m nervous.

Chapter 2 >>

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Javier Peña had a lot of sins he had to try to pay for, but never in his life did he imagine this would be the price.

Four months. That’s how long’s been since he’d left Colombia for good, leaving behind all the bullshit he had to endure, the mistakes he made, the deaths he’d witnessed.

In all fairness, he thought that going back to the states would motivate him to rebuild his life and start anew. That was his honest to God intention. However, once back in the good ol’ Merica, he realized it no longer felt like home, not in his dad’s old house, not in his new apartment, in a different city, nowhere. He became almost a recluse, filled with rage, resentment and frustrations, never leaving his house much, except for runs to the closest liquor store or the bar down the street.

The first few weeks, Murphy gave him space to sort out his thoughts, drink himself into oblivion, chain-smoke through the night and avoid human interaction like the goddamn plague, only checking on every now and then but never pushing.

Then, they started showing up.

First it was just Murphy, with beer and bad jokes, watching football games, doing anything but talk about Colombia or feelings. Then, Connie started showing up too, with thinly vailed concern and always bringing something for him to eat, all while trying to pull words out of him with pliers. They even had their daughter have a try at him, convinced that no one could resist the innocence of a small, bright-eyed child, especially one that loved her ‘uncle Javi’ like he hung the moon just for her. Yes, Javier loved his niece and would do anything for her, but that was the one thing that he couldn’t do, mostly because he didn’t know how.

No matter how many times he tried to turn them down, they were relentless. They’d pestered, prodded, and outright bullied him into getting out of the house ­– something about fresh air, new experiences, maybe even fun, as if he had any patience for that word anymore. They started up with the occasional dinner invitation, then it was offers to take him out for drinks – somewhere nice instead of the dingy, dimly lit bar where Javi spent his weekends. He never wanted to go anywhere, but Murphy and Connie always insisted until he gave in just to shut them the hell up. Well, more Connie than Murphy, really – she was the one planning every intervention, though she’d been sweet enough not to say that word out loud.

And now… this.

This one – Oh, this one took the cake.

A fucking art gallery.

Connie got her grabby hands on some invitations from an old patient lady that actually owned the fancy Modern Art Gallery in Houston, and Murphy, as the good husband that he was, just went along with it.

But Javier Peña didn’t belong here. That much was obvious from the moment he stepped through the doors of the establishment, wearing a scowl and the same old leather jacked that had seen more blood and dust than it had high society.

The walls were lined with massive canvases – some monochrome, others smeared in chaotic swirls of color – but what stood out the most were the ones that had been slashed and punctured, riddled with holes like someone had taken a knife to them in a drunken rage.

Murphy, the bastard, was actually trying to appreciate it. He stood next to Connie, nodding along as she pointed to different pieces. Javi had no doubt Steve didn’t understand a damn thing either, but unlike Javier, he was at least pretending.

He took a long sip of his whiskey – at least the open bar made this bearable.

At one point during the night, Connie leaned in and, in a hushed, reverent tone, explained that the artist, Lucio Fontana, had created these pieces with great precision to “explore spatial concepts beyond the canvases”, emphasizing “the interplay of light, shadow and space.” He just rolled his eyes and moved further away from her in a corner, plotting his escape.

What a load of bullshit.

All he could see were stab wounds. Bullet holes. Scars carved into the fabric of the country he had spent too many years fighting in. If he looked long enough, he swore he could see blood seeping through, hear the gunshots echoing in his skull.

And maybe that said more about him than the art itself.

He exhaled, running a hand over his face. He needed another drink.

He turned to leave – and walked straight into someone.

“Shit, sorry.” He muttered taking a step back, but the woman in front of him didn’t seem bothered.

You were standing close to one of the mutilated canvases, your back straight, hands folded in front of you as you studied it. You wore a calf-length silk skirt that shimmered under the lights and a lacy top that showed just enough skin to be distracting. But what struck him the most was the way you were looking at the canvas in front of you – not with the pretentious admiration of the other guests but with quiet, genuine thoughtfulness.

You waved off his apology with a small smile before turning your gaze back to the painting – a deep navy-blue canvas punctured with what looked like a thousand tiny holes.

Javier should’ve walked away, but instead he looked at you looking at the painting, and the curiosity got the better of him.

“You actually like this shit?”

You smiled, slow and knowing, like you were expecting that reaction. “Maybe.”

Javier huffed incredulous, crossing his arms. “Really?”

You gestured to the navy punctured canvas, “It reminds me of an old story my grandmother used to tell me when I was little.”

Javier pulled his eyebrows together, puzzled. The only thing it reminded him of was the dark colored government van that got ambushed and was completely obliterated along with the agents inside. But he couldn’t say that, and before he could open up his mouth to say anything else, you already started telling your story.

“Before the humans appeared on the planet, the rocks, animals and plants lived in harmony. They were the people of the world. They lived in harmony and peace, appreciating and taking care of the nature and of one another. They woke up every morning greeting the Sun, and went to sleep waving goodbye to the Moon, thanking her for looking over them.”

Javi found himself listening despite himself, watching you as you talked, tilting you head in his direction, gaze lost, but a small smile creeping on your lips as you continued to narrate the story.

“As time passed, they started to forget. They didn’t greet the Sun anymore or show any appreciation, and the Moon was completely forgotten. They became jealous of each other, thinking others possessed more than them, greed taking over their hearts. They started to take more than they needed, either to consume or to sell away. They didn’t help each other, cooperation didn’t exist anymore. They separated more and more, arguing, hating, fighting, hurting each other.”

His eyes darted between you and the painting, his mind running a thousand miles per hour, but knew better than to try to interrupt you.

“The Creator had been watching and said ‘Enough’, throwing a blanket over the whole world. Now the world was in darkness, people frightened. Each of them tried individually to take off the blanket, but no one was able to reach that far. Desperate, they formed a council, to discuss what they should do. After endless meetings and failed attempts, a hummingbird came with a plan that demanded everyone to cooperate. The hummingbird got on top of the crow, the crow got on top of the owl, and the owl on the eagle. The idea was simple, the eagle was supposed to fly as high as he could, then when his energy ran out, the owl took over, then the crow, until finally the hummingbird got close enough to puncture the blanket with its beak. Light seeped through, and everyone got their hope back. They started working together until they punctured enough holes in the blanket for them to have light and warmth again. The animals that couldn’t fly helped from the ground, preparing water, food and shelter for everyone. The Creator was so pleased to see that the people were living again in harmony that he lifted off the blanket, and the people never took what they had for granted anymore.” You seemed to finish your story the moment your eyes were focused on again, this time shifting your gaze towards Javier. His face was an amalgamation of emotions – confusion, admiration, concentration. “Anyway, it’s said that after they lived again in harmony and peace for many, many years, the people started to forget again.” You added with a shrug, this time with a knowing look into your eyes.

Javier looked at the canvas again. He still saw violence – still saw the wounds, the tearing, the things he couldn’t erase from his mind. But for the first time, he also saw what you did. Something else. Hopeful.

“You got all that from a couple stab marks on a painting?

You turned to him fully, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Art is what you make of it.”

Javier tilted his head, watching you. “So, what do you make of that one?” he said pointing to a different canvas – one with a long, deep cut right in the middle of it, like a wound.

You studied it for a moment, pursing your lips, then said, “Loneliness.”

“Loneliness?”

“Yes, the loneliness we all feel sometimes, almost like a wound right in the middle.” You said tracing absentmindedly a finger over your chest. “Separation. The way we carve ourselves apart from others, whether by choice or by force.”

Javier’s smirk faded slightly. He wasn’t used to conversations like this. Usually, when he talked to women, it was all surface-level-flirting, small talk, nothing deeper than what was necessary. But this? This was different.

If your words affected him, he didn’t let it show, but truth be told, a bitch slap would’ve stung him less than this.

He scoffed giving a skeptical look, “Alright smartass, and that one?” he pointed to another, where multiple slashes ran parallel, like scars.

After another pause for consideration, you said, “Community. We crave connection, we need it. No one survives alone. Even if we are wounded, we heal better when we are surrounded by others. Pain shared is pain halved.”

He almost wanted to ask if you knew Steve and Connie and if they put you up to this, but something in your expression made him reconsider, because when you spoke, when you came up with these awful, soul barring interpretations, you seemed lost in thoughts for a second.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?”

You grinned, “Pulled it out of my ass, mostly.”

He barked out a laugh, “Figures.”

You leaned in slightly, voice conspiratorial, “Truth is, I think this whole thing is bullshit.”

Now that was something he could get behind. “Then how the hell does a smart woman like you end up stuck at an art gallery she doesn’t even like?”

“My grandmother owns the gallery.”

Javier blinked. “Shit.”

You smiled slyly, “Yeah, so don’t tell her I said that.”

“No promises.” He said, “I’m Javier, by the way.” he added, and you shook his hand telling him your own name.

After a beat, you cleared the air, “The only one I’ve actually meant was the first one. The story kind of stuck with me.” You said as you rotated your forearm, letting him see the tiny hummingbird tattoo you had, so small, fragile and beautiful. He wanted to kiss it, honestly,

“So, you really believe in that?” he asked with his characteristic smile plastered on his face.

You glanced at him. ‘Believe in what? That the sky is a blanket and the stars are holes?” you asked amused.

Javier shrugged, “I mean, the whole idea. That there’s a way out, that people could actually find a way to fix their world at some point.” He explained his question, because it sure like hell never felt like that when he tried to lift the proverbial blanket that the cartels threw over Colombia.

You smiled, but there was something wistful in it. “I think stories like that exist because people need them to. To make sense of things, to find hope. The world’s a little less lonely when you see that there are others with the same way of thinking. Maybe if more people knew the story and they’d believe in it, things would change too.”

Javi studied you. You weren’t like the rest of the people here – weren’t fawning over the art just to seem cultured, weren’t talking in circles to sound impressive. You were just… real.

And that was a dangerous thing for him to be around.

You two stood there, quiet for a moment, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the space between you. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t.

Javi wasn’t sure when was the last time he’d met someone who actually entertained him, let alone someone who made him forget the shitstorm in his head. You had that way of carrying yourself – calm, amused, like the world was something to be studied but never taken too seriously.

“So, what about you?” you said after a moment, “If you hate this so much, why are you here?”

Javier sighed, glancing across the room where Steve was balancing a glass of wine while his wife animatedly discussed another piece. “Some friends dragged me.” He muttered.

You nodded in consideration, then looked around for your own dear grandmother. She was way over her head discussing with a circle of quests just like she did the whole night. Aside from knowing that you came, she didn’t get the chance to check in on you or chat at any point during the event, and you took a wild guess that it wouldn’t be happening anytime soon either.

You grinned, tilting your head slightly. “Tell you what – I’ll make you a deal.”

Javier arched a brow. “Yeah?”

You leaned in, lowering your voice. “There’s a bar two blocks from here. No abstract art, no bullshit. Just whiskey and decent company. Maybe some food too. You in?”

Javier hadn’t expected the night to be anything other than a painful endurance test, something he did mostly for his friends than for himself. He sure hadn’t expected to meet someone like you. And for the first time in a long time, he thought – why the hell not?

His lips curved into a genuine smile – he couldn’t remember when was the last time he smiled as much as he did ever since he started talking to you.

“Hell yeah, lead the way.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[o-sunny-day]

….ok so ( @forgettable-au go read it. its so good.)

this is one of those rare times where not even visuals can explain exactly the feelings because holy shit

I WAS RIGHT.

I AM MATPAT!!!!!!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT I WAS SO RIGHT ABOUT SO MUCH SHIT AND HOLY SHIT???????????

ok ok ok ok ok

gonna attempt to break this down in a comprehensible way that also isnt as long as the bible (probably will be but, stick with me here.)

Saw this and FIRST OF ALL, LOVE THE ART, LOVE HIS MANNERISMS IN GENERAL, HES SO AWESOME, I LOVE HIM

And also “HA I KNEW IT!!! THIS IS GONNA BE A LOT ABOUT THE TAPE!” pretty obvious but like- let me have my victory

second of all AAAAAA! AAAAAAA! ECHO FLOWER?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! ON HIS DESK!!!!! WHYYY???? HES SO SILLYY???? 😭😭😭

He definitely comes across to me as the kind of guy who would talk to himself a lot cause he…doesnt…really….talktoanyonelse- BUT YAY! CONFIRMED!

also “or C……” STOP STOPPING IN THE MIDDLE OF YOUR GODAMN SENTENCES *shaking wingdings*

FINISH THE THOUGHT

Biggest part here that had me stunned was…

I was right. about the tape….

“Establish connection” with T H E P L A Y E R

“Beyond the surface” is O U R W O R L D.

“HEAVEN”

I WAS RIGHT RRAAAAHHHH

(also dude not, this is not heaven dawg, Turn back you don’t wanna be here😭)

BUT THEN THE SILLIES!! AWWWWW

DUDE. SANS. YOUR BRO IS GOING THROUGH SOME SHIT YOU HAVE NO IDEA 😭😭 hes probably telling a stupid joke about a bar

and this is the last time we ever see them being happy ever again 😌

dawg you have no fucking clue

AND I WAS RIGHT!!!!!!

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, I WILL BE RECEIVING MY REWARD,

also just crying that Wingdings and Alphys call each other “Dr” and not just by their names because wingdings doesn’t really see Alphys as anything more than a work colleague so Alphys in turn doesnt feel like getting too comfortable ‘round him

finale:

OPEN MOUTH!🫵OPEN MOUTH!🫵

PAPYRUS

I MISSED YOU YOU STUPID(smart) GOOFBALL I LOVE YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AAUUUUGGHHHH OH MY GOD THIS WAS JUST FEEDING MY EGO AND ME GAPING AT THE SCREEN THE WHOLE TIME 😭😭😭 I WAS RIGHT!!! IT WAS ABOUT THE TAPE, THE TAPE WAS GASTER, THE THING WAS SET UP BY GASTER(maybe), AND FLOWEY AND PAPYRUS ARE GONNA GO INTO THE UNDERGROUND LIKE HANDPLATES GOING INTO THE LAB TO JOG THEIR MEMORIES STYLE!!!!

Hope it doesnt end up how that did though…

oh also new Discord pfp just dropped

BUT JUST AAAAUUUGHHHHHH GOD

I dont have any theories cause this was all just confirmation like “mhm, yep, and yep :3”

all I have are feelings on WINGDINGSSSSSSSSSS, CAUSE…. GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭😭

THIS MAN.

Right now, hes filled with so much joy and whimsy …..and thats just all gonna go down the drain… :(

These moments/lines are probably my favorite just because… THEY FILL ME WITH JOY!!! HES SUCH A NERD. HES FILLED WITH JOY. AND WHIMSY!!!!! HES HAVING FUN

*GASP* ROLL CREDITS!!!!!!!!

My favorite part of Forgettable is when Wingdings forgets and Sans forgets and Alphys forgets and…. and…… uhm…… what- uhhhhh what were the other characters names? uhm… uhhhhh…. uh… Forget….uhm…

[jenchan-writingmultis]

What do the dorm leaders + a few more students do when you leave them without saying goodbye / you go missing? (Series)

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

Genre: Fluff/ Angst Pairing: Riddle x Gn Reader

A/n: I wanted to get this idea out of my system, maybe I should have written this into a full fanfic, but what do you think? Let me know your thoughts in the comments (If you want to). This was supposed to be all the dorm leaders, but Riddle’s got too long so I’m going to separate them into series, most likely every character in Twisted Wonderland once I get ideas, some of them would link to each other's one-shots If I got enough smarty juice for it, but first let’s go for our boy Riddle, I hope you like it! Again, I'll make this into a series I hope you stay tuned!

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards. NOT BETA READ! Masterlist Part two: Leona x Gn reader -----------------

Sypnosis: You went off already, actually, they didn’t even know where you were right now, Grimm was worried about you, where have you gone? You just vanished into the mirror that you were talking to every midnight, he knew that he should have listened to his gut feeling when he realized that you were warning him about your sudden disappearance. The moment he went dashing out of Ramshackle, paws cold from the snow that he stepped on and it was really bad that when he needed Hornton he wasn’t there. 

Heartslabyul:

Riddle: He was the first to respond, he was a light sleeper due to his mother’s sudden outbursts in the middle of the night sometimes, so when he heard Grim’s cries from outside, he went to investigate immediately, especially since he saw that you weren’t with the little cat.

“Riddle!” Grim cried out, clinging to Riddle’s shirt “They’re gone!” He looked confused before grabbing Grim under his shoulders and lifting him a bit “What? Where did you last see them?” he questioned, Grim who looked miserable and seemed shaken as well “I don’t know they-!” he sobbed out “The moment I woke up, there was a gush of wind and the mirror shaking, and they were gone!”

 Riddle inhaled and sighed deeply, trying to remain composed “Would you like to rest here for now? I don’t want to wake the others up, we can look for them tomorrow” he went to open the door much wider now, while his thoughts were focused on you, he didn’t want to try to find you when it’s so dark out but at the same time, he wanted to throw away his rationality and go search the campus from up to down; you were always good to him, you saved him when he almost died, you’re basically a good friend to him; however, it was too dark outside, finding you would just be useless; but Grim seemed to think otherwise, he let out a loud whine which made Riddle wince at the noise. “Riddle! Please!” he begged, clinging again to the guy’s leg “I can’t leave Prefect alone!”

“Alright, alright,” Riddle said, sighing “Have you really checked everywhere?” He asked, and that’s where they started to plan out how to find you, he went to wake up the others, Trey, Cater, Ace, and Deuce to help with the search, of course, all four students agreed to help despite being late. 

Although they’ve been out for hours, there was nothing, no trace of your presence anywhere, where the hell did you go? Riddle’s eyebrows were basically knitted tight together for hours now, he can’t sense you, why? Where are you? 

The moment that the sun rose, not one idea or clue did the housewarden get from any deep search about you, and it left him frustrated. He decided since it was morning, Crowley might have any leads. 

And that’s where the matter was off of his hands… somehow, he still got updates, and he made his own investigations to try to find you, at least any leads; but nothing, even if he did get any leads it got him into a dead end. 

Days passed, weeks passed to the point it went into years passing, you still weren’t around, Grim was under his supervision, he basically got half custody with all the housewardens, especially when Grim seemed to not want to do anything else, other than get upset and lash out, he knew that feeling all too well when everything feels like it’s suffocating him. 

While he did pass everything in his academics, and now he’s graduating, he didn’t think that the impact of your presence before would make so much difference to him right now, he struggled and almost failed some of his subjects due to the lack of sleep and his mental health deteriorating. 

And throughout all of those, he realized that he actually loved you, isn’t that funny? He never thought that his affection for you would be anything more than just being acquaintances with you, the lingering stares he gave and the little adjustments he made of your uniform cause you weren’t wearing your tie properly, the way you never made him feel like an outsider, and everything else. The moments you and he were alone, he never made a move to get to know you better, he was the only one being asked questions about his family, his stories, and his future. He knew that saying he loved you was stupid, especially when he didn’t make any more effort in understanding you and knowing your story. 

The moment Riddle was wearing his Toga, something he was aiming for years, to become the valedictorian of his whole batch, he knew he should feel elated, his mother giving those business smiles he always see, Cater and Trey being there with him, graduating with him; Ace and Deuce watching their Housewarden graduate too. He was supposed to be happy; he was supposed to be-

But…

Where are you? Why aren’t you here with him? 

Riddle felt tears strolling down his cheeks when he was delivering his speech, an encouragement that he was supposed to give, yet here he was, tears strolling down his pristine face, in front of everyone, in front of his mother who looked shocked and pissed at him suddenly for showing such a shameful façade. 

“Riddle!” His mother shouted, almost wanting to stand up from her seat, but Trey stopped her, grabbing her shoulder and shaking his head. “There was one person that changed a lot of the student's perspective in magic… and how much they changed me as well.”

After that, Riddle stood in the bathroom, looking down the sink, face wet, he was crazy, telling everyone how Prefect, a missing student for years changed his life, and how he basically confessed how much he loved you, is he crazy? Maybe he went insane, now thinking about it, maybe all those searching for hours and sacrificing his sleep for you might be the reason. 

But even so, his heart yearned to see your face again, he missed you so much and he knew that he wasn’t the only one. 

He lifted his head, staring into the mirror, his eyes were puffy from crying, he looked pathetic, and he wanted to laugh about it.

Suddenly, the mirror started to wobble…? Was he hallucinating or does he see your face? 

“…iddle?” an echo of a voice all too familiar rang in his ears, his eyes widened as the wobbling of the mirror started to go harder, “Riddle… away… get away… the mirror” while he understood what “you,” said, he still didn’t budge, and that’s where the mirror spat you out, making him catch you.

His arms wrapped around your waist, he was shocked when he looked at you, you looked… the same? You looked a bit older, more gorgeous for sure. 

“Riddle!” you chirped, wrapping your arms around him, “You’ve changed so much!” he grew a bit, you were the same height now, but the other seemed to be surprised, his grip on your waist never leaving as he stared at you, “Riddle?” you asked, a bit worried.

 

“… Prefect?” he placed his hand on your cheek, rubbing it fondly with his thumb “Is that really you?” 

He wanted to kiss you, you stupid idiot, why did you vanish for years and come back looking prettier than you used to?

So, he did. He kissed you deeply, all the yearning and pain he felt for years, he put it in the kiss he gave you.

Welcome back, Prefect. 

Word count: 1,266

[wonderingpanda]

Remember back in high school the juiciest gossip was always about someone like-like-ing someone else? Will you write headcanons or something about the Mayhem boys hearing a rumor about someone (Reader) like-like-ing them? What would they do with this super important information?

I just really need some fluffy goofy high school shenanigans now-a-days.

Have You Heard?

MM!Turtles x Reader

This was so much fun to write. I loved adding hints of my own comedy and little cliches while giving each turtle their own individual story to follow. Thank you for the request, enjoy!

Leo

This was unexpected

Oh this was VERY unexpected

See Leo was a loser

He didn’t get to be cool, he didn’t get to be  smart, he didn’t get to be funny and he didn’t get the girl

At least that’s what he thought

According to April though, this was entirely inaccurate

According to April, you’d had a crush on him for the last month

Someone went a whole MONTH harbouring romantic feelings for him!

And not just anyone; his cool, pretty friend whom he had fallen head-over-heels for the first day they met

This was unbelievable!

Of course his brothers didn’t believe him

I mean, why would they? According to them, he naturally makes girls gravitate away from him

Now it’s not like you knew April told Leo this

You had simply shared the information during a sleepover and blindly trusted her

A bad choice really considering sharing news was her whole gig

Still you were none-the-wiser the next day as to why Leo was anxiously pulling at his shirt

Or why he avoided your eyes like the plague

Or why when you chose to sit next to him in geography he felt like his heart was about to erupt

You had no clue

So what was Leo to do in this situation?

Trust in April’s words and confess his feelings, risking the possibility of making things more awkward?

Or stay silent and let fate decide when was right, risking losing the chance to be with you forever?

It was a tough choice

But Leo’s a wimp so obviously he wasn’t going to say anything

That was until his brothers forced him to

Donnie had cleverly hacked his computer to send an email to you, asking you to meet in one of the art rooms

He in turn did the same to your computer and gave explicit times to ensure you both crossed over

It was believing those emails that lead you to to your current situation

Locked in an art room by April and Leo’s insufferable brothers, forced to wait it out until you found a way to escape

Heart pounding, mind racing and palms sweating

Leo knew exactly what they wanted out of you two and he had no idea how to do it!

So… Guess we’re stuck, in here … Seems like it’ll be a while- Did I upset you Leo? What, no!? Really? Cause you’ve been acting weird all day Not because of you! Well it sure seems like it’s because of me! How!? You literally made a point to stare at nothing but the ground the second I tried talking to you today! I was nervous! Why were you nervous!? Because I really like you! I really, really like you And I guess the thought that you might like me back is so thrilling it’s kind of terrifying But I-I don’t expect you to feel the same, I get this is probably off-putting with the green and the shell and the baldness- Leo! You grabbed his head and forced him to finally meet you face-to-face No tan, hair-covered, bare-backed guy could ever make me feel the way I do for you

You quickly kissed him and upon pulling away realised he had melted into a puddly, flustered mess

And you were released from the art room

Eventually

In the end it was a win-win

April got to succeed in her matchmaking schemes, you got to kiss the turtle of your dreams, Leo got a girlfriend and his brothers had something new to tease him about

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t a 100% win for Leo but close enough

Raph

Raph had met you first when he joined the wrestling club at school and you just so happened to be there

You also happened to be there when he tried out for the track team

And footy team

And basketball team

And cricket team

And just about every single sport he experimented with

For some reason you were consistently always there, always in his head with your stupid pretty face and swooshy hair and bright eyes and dumb little smile

GOD WHY WERE YOU ALWAYS THERE &$!#%!!??

Well… since you seemed to follow him everywhere Raph figured he may as well befriend you

And you two got along well, soon enough it seemed like he had found his new best friend

Also it may have turned out that you’d been widely involved in the school’s sport program for years but we don’t talk about that!

Anyhow, you guys stuck together pretty consistently

Always hanging out and goofing off, ranting about teachers and friends

In a weird way you were also each other’s therapists, being forced to be the reasonable one whenever the other was in a firey state

His brothers greatly appreciated it as it meant they had to deal with less violent endeavours from him

If only Donnie hadn’t been feeling so bored that day, maybe then he’d still be alive

Or at least have a chance of living to the next day

See you and Raph had just been chilling at your locker while you grabbed stuff for class

No biggie, the closest you contact you had was Raph’s arm being slightly around you

But when Donnie came around and saw you two he couldn’t think of a better way to brighten his day than to embarrass his brother in front of the girl he’d been talking about for weeks

So as he walked by he slyly turned to you two, eyebrows raised and commented “You two look comfy” before contently strutting off

Raph’s face blended in with his mask as he stared angrily at his brother’s back

I’m gonna kill him Don’t I have P.E with him today

Donnie ended up returning home with a LOT of bruises that day

But it was worth it for the information he managed to squeeze out of you

All which he spouted to Raph like a proud toddler

Raph didn’t believe him

He genuinely didn’t

No way you had a crush on him

You liked to watch him wrestle for the fight not the visuals

And the only reason you were insistent on having him at your locker every morning was so you had someone to talk to. You’d replace him with any of your friends if they arrived earlier

Also, the fact that you showed off your muscles to him at a swim competition was purely to brag and in no way hinting towards any feelings!

Raph knew you didn’t like him and he could prove it

So Donnie dared him to ask you

Then after regaining consciousness, told Raph he’d call him out for being a wimp if he didn’t

3 beatings in one day, way to go Donnie!

So Raph wasn’t feeling too psyched the next day when he was talking to you and noticed Donnie’s lingering gaze but a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do (terrible under other context but you get the point)

Ok Y/n, now this is totally random but stupid Donnie has been nagging me to ask you. Do you like me? Like, like-like me Donnie told you that? No he just wanted me to ask- Well he’s right Huh? He told me you feel the same way, I’m assuming you do After all it would make sense as to why you’re constantly displaying signs of high dopamine, noradrenaline, releases of phenethylamine and hormonal changes around me I don’t know what any of those words mean but I love you You turned to him with a genuine smile I love you too, but it has only been a few weeks so can we just take things a bit slow for now? Uh huh Awesome

You gripped the top of his plastron and pulled the lovestruck turtle into a small kiss

Sadly you were torn apart when an annoying voice called out from across the hall

I told you so!

He bolted, but at least you two had managed to get together. Raph may have actually killed Donnie otherwise

Donnie

You and Donnie were childhood friends, platonic besties, a power duo of friendship

There were no romantic feelings between you two AT ALL

…

So it started in maths

You, Donnie and Leo were being the ultimate nerd trio, figuring out equations and such when one of the annoying kids, Harvey, thought it would be funny to call out

Hey Donnie! Did you know Y/n likes you!?

Some kids started laughing and others talking while you sat there with your face beet red

Donnie’s face flushed as he stumbled over his words, desperately trying to defend you which he didn’t succeed well in

He did take note of your reaction to the whole scenario which peaked his interest

(Side note: Leo did slightly enjoy the whole thing, finally not the butt of the joke 😃)

After that day Donnie’s thoughts grew

He had pictured these scenarios a thousand times in his head but never had they felt so possible

Asking you out, you asking him out, going on dates, exchanging gifts, hugging, crying, kissing

Then it happened again, sort of

He and Raph were leaving class together

Easy, simple, completely normal

Till a random girl, who he recognised as your friend, yelled from behind

Donnie, do you like Y/n!?

He panicked. What was he meant to say?

He couldn’t say yes, what if you didn’t like him? But what if you did like him?

However, they were getting further away and he only had seconds to answer

So he made the “smartest decision of his life” and called back

U-uh, um, no!

Since then you’d been more distant

And with all this evidence; Donnie became a full analyst

He noted down your behaviours, how you acted before and now

How your interests changed with him, when you were louder and quieter, what gestures you made to hint any feelings

He looked deep and saw all the signs

Sadly you were still pretty distant after what you heard from your friend and Donnie was determined to change that

First off, he tried to initiate more conversation and when you attempted to cut it short he kept pushing

No matter how hard his social anxiety was screaming he knew he had to keep conversations going

He also kept making an effort to sit next to you

Any scenario be it lunch, class or just general group hangouts; he was always by your side

And after a week or so when you seemed to be loosening up more he chose to take things a step further with physical contact

He’d give you a high-five, fist bump or hug as a greeting

Maybe lean on your shoulder or get closer when you were showing him something

Sometimes if he was feeling particularly happy he’d sneak his hand over yours

Soon enough, it seemed like you had finally gotten over everything and were back to your old self. But there was still something you had to address

Lunch time, alone. That’s when you chose to bring it up

Donnie, do-um… did uh my friend ever tell you anything a few weeks ago? He began choking on his food *Cough* N-no uh why? Well it’s just that the last few days you’ve been different Different how? Uh… just small stuff like the hand thing and I guess you’ve seemed a bit closer Oh! I mean psh, I just thought you were upset or something so I wanted to cheer you up, no big deal You thought I was upset? Why? Well you were acting more distant and I didn’t want to bring it up cause I thought it might be sensitive so I figured I’d just help on the side, you know? That’s actually really sweet. But are you sure there’s no other reason for it? Uh nope! None, I mean why else would I want to hug you and hold your hand and stuff it’s not like I have a crush on you. Cause that- that would be crazy you and me together like whaaat? A mutant and a human who, how!? Donnie Yes Did you lie to my friend? Maybe … So it wouldn’t be weird if we dated? I’d love it if we dated

Of course you kissed and both of you loved it

Donnie had never felt this happy in his whole life, not even when they saved the city!

And he had enough blackmail to shut his brothers up if they ever tried teasing you two

Mikey

You two were the best of buddies

Two peas in a pod

Always acting and performing at each others side

Mikey loved it

Mikey loved you

And the day he heard you may feel the same caused his mind and heart to simultaneously explode

It was Leo, of course it was Leo

They were in art discussing the struggles of having human crushes

It was when Leo said “At least yours likes you back” that he knew he screwed up

Mikey wasn’t panicked though, Mikey’s Mikey

He was of course very happy when he heard the news and didn’t leave Leo alone about it for days

Every waking moment was spent getting updates from Leo and insights into your friend group

And whenever you two saw each other be it before school, after school, breaks, in class or at improv, he was ecstatic

This guy just couldn’t get enough and made every effort to let you know he liked you

Soon enough he felt like he had enough confirmation on your feelings and gained the confidence to just go for it

It was during a game of freeze tag when he tapped out the person you were previously with and started a new scene

Jessie! Hey, thank gosh I found you Lucas, what’s up? I haven’t seen you in a while Oh well, you know, I’ve just been busy; things have been a bit different lately Different how? Well the word is that someone I know likes me but I just don’t know who That sure is a dilemma Yeah, if it’s the person I think it is though I recon it’ll end pretty well You got some hopes do you? Ahh just someone, nothing to worry about I don’t know if you’re associated Try me Alright well… they have h/c hair ooh and pretty e/c eyes! They’re also one of my closest friends and I don’t think they realise just how much I like them Wow Lucas that must be really keeping you on edge Yeah, if only I knew who it is At this point you and Mikey had moved so close to each other your hands were almost touching Mikey I- FREEZE!

And just like that, the scene was over

But not the story

At the end of the rehearsal you and Mikey walked out of school together and the discussion of feelings was unavoidable

You two were walking silently side-by-side till he finally said it

I like you Y/n Do you like me back? I like you so much Mikey you don’t even know

His face lit up as he cheerfully pulled you into a hug and spun around

You took the opportunity as he slowed down, cupped one of his cheeks and planted a kiss on his lips

From that day forward Mikey got to walk around boasting about having the greatest partner in all of New York

And you went on to kick Leo’s butt for exposing your secret so easily

Again, I loved writing this so much. Also I think I’m going to use indented for my Headcanons from now on (although I guess they’re more listed stories at this point). Anyway thank you for reading and please, have an awesome day/night wherever you are!✨

[m-jelly]

Teacup

Canon world.

"What exactly are we doing?" Levi's brow raised as he pulled on his jacket. "You said casual clothes, so I'm curious."

"Well, it's a surprise." You smiled softly. "You'll need to roll up your sleeves, you can do that right?"

"Yes?" Now he was even more curious. "What are you up to?"

You hummed a laugh. "You'll like it, trust me. I'll explain on the way." You walked with him out of your home, it was nice having him live with you some days when he was not at the scout base. "Do you want to hold hands? I know you sometimes don't like it."

He pouted as a blush spread on his cheeks. "Tch, I'm not a kid." He grabbed your hand. "You better hold tightly. I know what you're like, you might wander off. I have to make sure you stay right next to me. Anyone could take you."

It was cute how Levi really wanted to hold your hand, he just found it hard to express his feelings. From what he said you knew that he wanted to hold your hand more, he was just using the dangers of the city and you going on adventures as an excuse.

Levi squeezed your hand tightly. "So, explain."

You smiled up at him. "What you told me about your past has been on my mind a lot."

"What part?"

"The part about your mother."

A soft smile spread on Levi's lips. "My mother..."

You nodded. "Mm, you mentioned a teacup she loved that you used but broke."

He released a long sigh. "Yeah..."

"Do you remember what it looked like?"

He frowned a moment, he had no clue why you were bringing that up. "Yeah?"

You stopped outside a shop. "Good! The reason I ask relates to where we are right now."

He pulled his gaze from you and looked up at the building. "Pottery shop?"

"I booked us a lesson." As soon as Levi looked back down at you with wide eyes you smiled. "I thought you could maybe recreate that cup."

He swallowed hard, he didn't know how to react because he was so touched by how thoughtful you were. This was an incredible gift and a fantastic date idea. He looked around to make sure the two of you were alone before leaning towards you and kissing you.

He hummed as your soft warm lips met his. "Thank you. This...this is wonderful. I love you."

You grinned at him. "I love you too. I'm glad you're up for it. I did worry you might not. It can be messy."

He pulled you into the shop. "Yes, but it's worth it."

The two of you worked together to help make Levi his beloved teacup. After making it, you made a little plate for Levi to have food on. After everything had dried you started the painting. It impressed you how steady of a hand Levi had as he painted. His art wasn't perfect, but it was cute and unique. He would paint a bit and then he'd instruct you on what to paint because he wanted your mark on the cup.

Levi pouted a bit when they were taken from him, but you explained to him you'd come back and pick them up the next day when it was all checked and finished.

He held you close as he walked with you. "May I stay over tonight?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." He kissed the side of your head. "Thank you for today. I loved this. We should go again and make other things."

You smiled sweetly at him. "We should. I'd love to set it all up again."

"Perfect."

Tags below.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity

@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08

@levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife

@demonic-bird @searriously

[chil-aglia]

𝐃𝐨 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐦? |ROTTMNT| (Male OC)

[Phantom Pain]

Be sure to read the tags on my Ao3 so you guys know what you’re getting yourselves into.

Art above is done by my beta reader Cimmerian who is one of the most talented artists I know! Please go like their stuff on tumblr!

HE’S SO CUTE! I love him 😭

Warnings: Light angst, implied PTSD, blood (from flashbacks), etc

And of course, a quick thank you to my awesome beta readers @cimmerian1275 + @bootyshakerrr9000 who helped me out a lot with this chapter! Very talented and please, go give them a follow, love their work, etc.

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

Leo had been curious about something since the day he first met Caden. If Leo's soul was stuck inside this stranger's body, then where was his physical body? The one that he was far more used to. The one he grew up in. 

Leo had no clue where Draxum was keeping him. He figured it would be in a lab of sorts, but he also knew Draxum was far too smart to just leave his vulnerable body in a lab that simply anyone could access.

He should ask Caden, surely he knew where they kept him. But… they currently weren’t on speaking terms, not since their incident with the med bay. Caden had given him the cold shoulder for the past few days. And to be honest, it was becoming really annoying for Leo. 

Why didn’t Caden see that it was best for Leo to amputate the infected arm from that guy? Did he want him to die? No, Caden couldn’t be that cruel, especially if he didn’t even know the man. Leo didn’t either, he might’ve seen him walking around before but he didn’t have time to stop and memorise everyone unless it was absolutely necessary.

Leo stood back, keeping his eyes on Caden who was propped up and leaning against the control panels inside the mindscape. He looked tired. Barely standing.

He would fall over if he kept this up. Leo can understand that it was hard to sleep, he’s dealt with insomnia for years. But this was just becoming ridiculous.

Caden needed sleep. He wouldn’t be able to perform and train properly without it. It would damage them both if Caden one day collapsed and got severely injured because of his fatigue.

He walks over, looking over Caden’s shoulder. “Hey, let me take over. You need to sleep.” He orders, fully expecting and waiting for an argument to start. But he was met with silence, which confused the older turtle as he walked around the panel to get in front of Caden.

To his utter shock, Caden was asleep. Sleeping up right but leaning against the panels. How that was possible, Leo had no idea. 

But he saw this as an opportunity. He just hoped this wouldn’t wake the young mutant and encourage him to be more pissed off at Leo than he already was. But he had to try.

Carefully he came around the podium and stood beside the sleeping mutant, slowly leaning over to place his hand on the activation panel. And to his surprise he could feel the body awaken, followed by the sensation of being pulled in.

Gaining control.

He gazed down at Caden, wondering if he was awake now that his body was, but he remained still and silent. Eyes closed, mouth open slightly and quietly breathing in a comfortable rhythm.

Leo sighs in relief and focuses back on the present. He was inside his room, staring up at the ceiling through Caden’s eyes. He almost wanted to sleep himself, feeling just how physically exhausted this young teen’s body was.

But Leo had something more important to do.

Find his body.

Grunting he stands up, rubbing the back of Caden’s neck as he walks around his room, grabbing the cloak for better measure to hide himself just in case he runs into anyone.

It was late so he hoped most of the base was asleep. “Okay Leon… let’s do this.” He spoke to himself in a determined whisper, pulling the cloak over himself and exiting the room.

-----

No…

Not here either…

This is just an old lab that was changed to be a botanic garden!

Leo grumbled, rubbing the borrowed hands over the face that wasn’t his. He had been searching everywhere he could possibly think of. Trying to think like a crazy yokai scientist was harder than he thought it would be.

He strolls down the hallway, head pounding from the stress and frustration as he stops in front of Draxum’s lab. He knew Draxum was either inside or in his room, and Leo was quietly begging for the yokai to be asleep in his bedroom, which was located on the other end of the base.

Leo glanced at the hand print panel, cautiously placing Caden’s palm against the machine, blinking in surprise but also in satisfaction when the doors opened, allowing him entry. He slinks his way inside, stealthily looking around.

No sign of Draxum. Or of anyone for that matter. “Easy… now, where the hell did you put my body?” Leo mumbled to himself, walking over to the corners hoping to spot some kind of visual clue.

But so far, he found nothing and he was testing his own limits, “Damn it!” He shouted, abruptly banging his hand against a table, some items falling off from the violent force of his slammed fist.

He winced at the loudness, looking around instinctively just in case someone overheard the outburst, but no one was around to hear. And Caden was fast asleep in a deep slumber in the mindscape.

Leo was fine. He just had to calm down and think.

He was good at thinking. Thinking is something he does all the time. Just take a breath…

Leo inhaled and held it before exhaling slowly, calming down the rising pressure of stress that filled his head. “Okay… if I was Draxum, where would I keep a body that I don’t want just anyone to find?” He asks himself, pacing back and forth with a hand under chin.

His eyes darted around the lab, zeroing in on anything that seemed out of place. “If I was Draxum…” He mumbles once more, his borrowed eyes settling upon a bare wall that was at the back of the lab.

He hums in curiosity, striding over and leaning forward to inspect the wall. “If magic taught me anything, it’s that there’s always a secret passage behind a wall.” He stated, placing his hands against the bricks, pushing on them lightly.

He did that a few times before his hand connected to the right brick.

A hand scanner appeared in its place, making Leo’s face break out in a sly grin, letting the scanner take note of Caden’s palm.

It beeps with a green light before the brick wall itself splits open to reveal an elevator.

“Draxum you sneaky bastard…” He mumbled in wry amusement, stepping inside the elevator and pressing the only button there was.

Down.

The doors close and the electric box descends, Leo taps the foot that isn't his against the floor repeatedly, impatient and slightly nervous for what he'll find when the doors open.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid aside, Leo hesitantly walked out as he ventured further inside the new destination. It was dark, there had to be a light switch somewhere right?

He carefully moved around, hands out in front of him as he felt around the walls, they were bumpy, rock like. Was this place some kind of cave? It would make sense considering they were already underground.

Aha!

Leo found what he hoped to be a switchboard, flicking on the first thing he felt. A quiet but noticeable hum echoed, and one by one, the hanging lights overhead turned on, brightening the place up to be seen.

Leo’s eyes quickly adjust and widen, breath caught in his throat as he observes the underground laboratory.

“Holy shit…”

He walks around, taking in everything he saw. How the hell did Draxum manage to keep this from them for so long? From him?

Leo was the leader, he should’ve known about a hidden lab. “Draxum, I’m going to punch you when I get my body back.” Leo told himself, trailing his hands against a table that had strange and unrecognizable materials scattered over its surface.

He stops when he sees a box inconspicuously hidden away under a chair. Tilting his head quizzically he crouches low and pulls it out, lifting it up and placing it down on the table, lifting the lid off it.

“What are you keeping from me Drax…?”

Leo dug through the box, it was mostly junk from what Leo could tell, but then he felt what appeared to be a smaller box inside. He picks it up, curiously examining it in his grasp.

His fingers traced over the lid briefly. Whatever Draxum had in here must be important right?

Narrowing his eyes he opens the cover, expecting to find… well, something that he could probably blackmail Draxum with in the future.

“…What the hell is this?”

He widens his eyes at the sight. They were photos. Lots of them, and they're all filled with Caden.

Are these all… baby pictures?

Leo picks one up, inspecting the photo. Draxum’s handwriting on the back claiming that this was 2 weeks into the creation of Caden, who was curled in on himself and floating inside a tube of green liquid.

The next photo he found was when Caden was 5 months old. Bigger and body no longer curled. But remained floating in the strange green water.

Leo puts them down, picking up another of when Caden was a year old into his creation. The first time he opened his eyes as the handwriting states on the back.

“Huh… he’s actually pretty cute in these.” Leo couldn’t help himself, speaking his thoughts out loud as he put the photo down, picking up another where it was Caden at 3 years old, toddler stage by now.

He was in the middle of a yawn, rubbing at his eye.

Another photo at 5 years of age, eyes open again as he had his small hand pressed against the glass of the tube, mouth open as though he was trying to communicate with Draxum, who must’ve been the one to take the photo.

Leo smiled fondly, his heartstrings tightening at the sight of these hidden pictures. He looks back at Caden through the mindscape, frowning slightly.

He was alone, basically trapped inside the tube for 17 years… and Leo had no idea. 

With a click of his tongue, he shakes his head and puts the photos away, closing the box lid and walking away from it. He had to focus. He was here to see if his body was around.

He moves around the underground lab, not knowing where he was even going. He followed the sound of machinery humming, whatever Draxum kept in this direction looked and sounded important.

He walks to where he could make out the silhouettes of a row of tubes, but they are dark, no light nearby and making it impossible to see what's inside. Leo clicks his tongue as he walks up to one, placing his palms against the glass, feeling around for another switch or something.

A button he felt on the side, he pressed down on it and stepped back at the sound of a whirring noise of what he could safely assume to be a water filter starting up.

The lights inside the tube turned on and Leo immediately felt his legs waver and become like jello. Stumbling back and bumping into a table, taking in panicked breaths at the sight.

The sight of him.

His grown adult body, floating in a green fluid, eyes closed and calm. Limp. And so… so dead-like.

Leo cautiously took a step forward, observing his body as he felt sick at the sight. Cuts and bruises clear on his skin, from when he was attacked.

His eyes gazed to his left arm, seeing a gash that was stitched up but he instinctively gripped tightly at his current left arm. Or he should say, at Caden’s arm when he feels a wave of lingering pain wash over him.

A memory flashed in his head.

-----

He was pinned down, gasping feebly for oxygen as Prime stepped on his plastron, forcing him deeper into the earth inch by inch, he was talking, monologuing about something, how earth was doomed forever.

But Leo only heard ringing, vision clouded with black. Wanting to pass out.

-----

His eyes scanned over his body once more, noticing his wrapped-up torso, and he recoiled, like he could feel the fresh stabbing sensation going through his side all over again.

-----

“Fuck!” He screams, letting out a pained cry as he trembles in agony. Prime’s tentacle was sharp and currently impaling his side, the air in his lungs wheezing as he spat out blood.

Choking on the fluids that pooled in his mouth. He was then flung aside like an insect—like a pest and crashing into a rock that crumbled and fell down on him when it cracked from the impact of Leo’s shell.

-----

Leo gagged on air, a hand coming up to his mouth as he took in deep breaths. He had to remind himself that those were just memories. He was fine now… right?

His fight with Prime was hazy, but he remembered getting too cocky, which resulted in his near death experience, and maybe he would have genuinely died if it weren’t for his brothers finding him in time.

“Fucking Prime…” He hissed out, annoyed at his greatest enemy that constantly brought terror and destruction and death upon his city. Upon his people and home.

And it was all his fault.

He lost the key. He is the reason they invaded. The reason so many innocent civilians were killed and turned into monsters.

It was his fault that Cassandra died. His fault was that Casey was an orphan. His fault that Raph wears an eyepatch due to a fight with a Krang beast that impacted his vision. That he basically lost half of his vision.

It was his fault that Donnie had that scar on his face.

His fault that Mikey was exhausted on a daily basis from using too much of his mystic power.

His fault…

That his father was gone—

Leo flinched when he felt something wet drip down the borrowed cheek that belonged to Caden. He blinked and gently touched the wetness.

He was crying. Or at least had a tear drop roll down.

“Damn it…” Leo hisses, wiping at Caden’s eyes. As he gave a final look over his body. He’s seen enough now.

-----

Raph didn’t like jumping to conclusions, didn’t like it when he saw others working themselves to the point they could so easily collapse if a breeze blew over them. It worried him, but he didn’t like telling others about it, afraid that they’ll jump to conclusions and tell him he's overreacting.

But he especially didn’t like it when it came to his family and close friends doing such exhausting work by themselves.

He chose to keep it to himself at first, but after a few days he was truly beginning to question what was wrong. Caden had consistently been visiting the dojo over the span of a couple days now, most likely even staying in there all night. He would be caught training with the katana’s, sometimes Raph would even see the young mutant punching at the training bags, kicking the dummies that stood firmly in the centre.

Raph didn’t think much about it at the start, he thought it was great that Caden was training. But there had to be a limit… especially when he was seeing worrying signs of fatigue, and dark bruises forming on his legs and knuckles.

Should he do something? Maybe he wasn’t the best person to ask what was wrong. Donnie would definitely be no help, and April was busy with work.

Mikey on the other hand… well, he was known as the Resistance’s go to therapist for a reason. It was his specialty. And he enjoyed helping others.

It was just now a matter of getting Caden to listen to Mikey. Give him a moment to have a chat with the youngest brother. Raph decisively turns away from the dojo and heads towards the office that Mikey likes to use for his sessions.

He just hoped the latter didn’t have any appointments. He greeted people that strolled by him, smiling warmly as he stopped in front of the closed door. Carefully and cautiously he twists the handle open, peeking his head inside.

“Mikey?”

The box turtle perks up, tilting his head when he sees Raph. Mikey was meditating, floating in the air cross legged, his cape floating behind him as he shot him a gentle and steady smile.

“Hey, Raph! What brings you here?”

Raph smiles sheepishly, “I, um… require some help. About Leo.” He began, watching as Mikey seemed to grow more interested now as he steadily placed his feet on the ground, looking up at his largest brother.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something is off with him. He’s been in the dojo. Like… a whole lot. All night I think, sometimes. Beat up and bruised. He doesn’t say much, or even notice me. I know we want him to get better at using his swords again, but…” Raph pauses, letting out an exhale to gather his thoughts.

“It’s like he keeps training to prove himself for something.”

Mikey’s expression softened, and gave a small nod. “Sounds like someone is trying to fight something they can’t punch.” He mumbles, making Raph shrug his shoulders, “Yeah. Do you think you can check on him? I would, but I don’t think I'm the right guy for the job.”

Mikey beams, standing straight as he clears his throat and pats Raph on the arm, “You did the right thing coming to me. I’ll go check on him. I’ll be Dr. Feelings.” He assured, which only had Raph give a deadpan look at him.

“Just go easy on him.”

Nonetheless he felt more relieved that Mikey was going to take over, talk with their brother. “Not to worry. I’ll be nice!” He laughs softly, striding out of the room and down the hallway to the dojo. Raph watches, arms crossed, and shoulders tensed.

He really hopes Mikey can get through to Caden. 

Mikey heard the sounds of grunts and pants once he reached the dojo, walking in further and leaning against the doorframe as he witnessed Caden once again throw himself into another set of brutal combinations. His movements were precise, and the blades of the katanas glimmered as they sliced through the air as cleanly as Caden could wield them.

There was some control, an indication that he was getting better at it, but they were still frantic. Desperate. Unrefined.

Mikey recoiled for a second as Caden stumbled on the pivot of a spin, catching himself just in time before his knee hit the dojo mat. The mutant hissing under his breath, breathing heavily as he kept his gaze focused on the floor.

He shakes his head, straightening himself as much as he can and gets back into a sparring position with the katanas in his hands.

Mikey could see why Raph was concerned. Caden was clearly overworking himself, and that could be seriously damaging for him. So, Mikey clears his throat and walks over, using his mystic abilities to stop Caden from slashing into the air again, the latter blinking dumbfoundedly as he tries to move his arms but they aren't listening.

“What the…?”

“Sorry! I didn’t want you to accidentally cut me when I came closer.” Mikey announces, chuckling as he finally released his mysticism that was holding Caden who was able to control his arms again, glancing over to Mikey.

“Did you need something?” Caden’s voice is breathy and flat, sounding confused and slightly annoyed that his training was interrupted. Mikey frowns imperceptibly, “Raph told me that you’ve overworking yourself here. Maybe it’s time to take a break?” He suggests, his smile a little forced out of his own worries for Caden.

The red eared slider tilted his head before letting out a heavy breath, using his arm to wipe off the sweat that had collected on his forehead.

“I’m fine.”

Mikey was taken aback. That line he heard multiple times from Leo. It was almost nice to see that perhaps Leo was still in there somewhere, but Mikey of course knew that in this circumstance specifically, it wouldn’t be good.

Leo had a habit of exhausting himself and hiding behind a mask of confidence. Especially when he first became leader.

“How about we try something else today?” Mikey spoke up, placing a gentle hand on Caden’s shoulder to stop him from returning to his training. Caden eyed him, deep in thought as he turned to Leo who was standing beside him in the mindscape. Waiting to see if he had anything to say about this.

He and Leo have had a… strange tension going on between them ever since the day in the med bay. Leo remained as distant as he could, sharply informing Caden to either train or just do something to help improve himself.

And Caden… well, he was stubborn. Sometimes not even listening to whatever he's told to do, giving Leo the silent treatment just to spite him in return for everything he’s done with Caden’s body.

But then Caden couldn’t help but get bored quickly, training is the only thing he can think of actually doing while stuck in the base. “Leo?” Mikey calls out, snapping Caden back to the present as he eyed the brother of Leonardo while he thought.

Leo stood silently, arms crossed and just staring. As if asking Caden to make a decision. To stop now would feel like a failure, like giving in.

Caden’s jaw tightened and his grip on the sword hilts were firm as he mulled it over. Mikey was still watching, patient but not passive. The softness in his eyes narrowed with concern.

“What would we even do?” Caden finally asked, avoiding eye contact with Mikey who smiled a little wider, encouraging. “Well… I was thinking why don’t we do something that we used to do? Maybe braid my hair, it could help with your memories?” He offers, noticing the way Caden tenses as he hardens his gaze.

“Come on, it could be fun too. You're swinging those swords like you’re fighting a Krang. We’re in a dojo, not the battlefield.”

Caden frowns, not sure how to feel about that statement. Leo watched him, his expression stoic, making the young mutant shift slightly. Was he disappointed? Angry?

He exhales, shaking his head as he looks at Mikey. “Okay…” He finally agrees, putting the swords away in their holsters that were strapped to his shell.

Mikey sits down comfortably on the mat, patting the spot behind him as Caden hesitantly lowered to his knees and sat cross legged behind Mikey who untied his hair, letting it flow down.

It stopped just halfway down his shell, silky and dark brown. Caden eyed it in curiosity. How did a turtle even get hair in the first place? From what Caden noticed from the brothers, they didn’t have hair on them.

“You okay?” Mikey spoke up when he didn’t feel Caden move to start braiding, making the latter jump slightly as he hummed in acknowledgement. “Yeah…” He uttered, his fingers reaching up and smoothing out the hair.

He bites his lower lip, furrowing his invisible brows together. He had no idea how to braid. How did Mikey expect him to know this?

Nonetheless Caden tried, moving the hair in all kinds of directions. Mikey could tell Caden was anxious, it was sort of adorable the more he thought about it, but he couldn’t just sit by and let him stew in a pool of anxiousness.

“You know, there’s multiple rumours about you going around the base.”

“Huh?”

This finally caught Leo’s attention, who listened in, keeping his gaze rooted on his brother. “Heh, yeah. The new one lately is that people think Donnie experimented on you and gave you some kind of youth serum.”

Leo groans at this, second handedly embarrassed at these ridiculous rumours. Caden however found some amusement in Leo’s obvious dislike towards these.

“Oh yeah? What else is there?”

“Kid…” Leo growls, but is interrupted by Mikey who snorts. “They think Leo ran away because you’re his child and he didn’t want to pay child support.”

Caden snickers a little at this, while also cringing in on himself that people mistook him as a child of Leo, but at least it was far more entertaining to watch Leo squirm uncomfortably at these comments. Mikey’s grin widens when he hears Caden softly laugh.

Good. He wanted him to be comfortable around him. 

“Oh, hey, by the way I actually have a question… how come your training so hard lately? Not that it’s totally a bad thing!” Mikey inquired before he corrected himself, laughing sheepishly, “It’s just… you seem like you're pushing yourself a bit hard.”

Caden’s amusement was quickly replaced, pausing for a moment, as he couldn’t help but frown at the question, ignoring the way Leo observed him. He knew he was being judged, and how Leo was a constant reminder that he had to be careful on what to say to the youngest of the brothers.

“I just don’t want to fall behind…” He mutters, not even sure if it was meant for Mikey or Leo. “You guys… you’re all so good at what you do in the Resistance. At least from what I’m told. But me…?” He falters, clicking his tongue as he sees how tangled the hair got.

“I’m just some reject Draxum made.”

The comment came out before he could even think, both Leo and Mikey tensing up at this as Caden huffs out a short breath of frustration at the attempted braid.

“Leo—“

“Caden.”

Mikey nods, frowning at the correction, “Caden. You're not a reject. You’re just… different is all.” He smiles lightly but Caden scoffs, crossing his arms like a stubborn teenager. Mikey hums in amusement at the sight for a second before he gains a new topic to talk about.

“Say, you went to the med bay with Donnie a few days ago right? I hope it wasn’t off putting. Especially after I heard we had an infected scare.”

Caden froze, body still as a statue as he recalled that day. It was still fresh in his head, the way he saw those wounded people and yokai.

The way Leo took over for him.

How he cut off an arm.

How could he forget?

Since that traumatic moment, Leo never once asked if he was okay. The two barely spoke about it, and it began to make Caden question who the hell Leo is. How was he able to stay that calm?

Surely it was normal for others to freak out, right? But yet Leo was the exact opposite. Caden could understand that Leo must’ve amputated lots of limbs before, but it was still just—

Caden couldn’t quite figure out the words that were caught in his throat. And with Leo? He never did talk about his feelings. What he was thinking about.

The most Caden would get is a feeling. A brief memory or a slight change in his expressions and tone. 

Caden gulps, letting out a shaky breath he had been holding as he looks away to the side. He could tell Mikey what he experienced… but what if he was just being dramatic? What if this was nothing to lose sleep over?

What if he’s just weak?

The familiar but still foreign pull away from his body sent Caden back, stumbling away from the control panel as Leo stood in front, eyes glaring ahead as he hissed slightly in warning at Mikey.

He used Caden’s body again without telling him first. All to scold his baby brother. 

“I don’t need you to therapy me, Mikey.” He lowly grumbled, flexing Caden’s fingers out to try again with the braid. Leo knew he shouldn’t let Mikey’s word get under his skin, but he was sick of hearing it.

Mikey often told him to see someone. To talk to someone that could potentially help him. He told him Leo’s bad habits were only going to damage him.

The way he would overwork himself with training or with missions. Barely having a chance to rest. A chance to get some proper sleep.

It was like that in the early days of the Resistance as well. Leo’s habits ranged from sacrificing himself to getting in harm's way when he didn’t need to, because he thought it was his duty to protect everyone.

And then his other bad habit when he was pent up with stress was to hit the dojo, punching the bags until his knuckles bled. And if Raph caught him, Leo would do the next best thing. And that was to get as drunk as he could, find the closest person he could flirt with and take them to an empty room for the night.

But those days stopped when Leo reached 24. He had become more focused on his leadership skills, and because Prime would inch his territory closer to the Resistance every month.

Caden walks over, shoving Leo to the side so that he could gain back the control that was meant to be his. His hands were still and tangled in Mikey’s hair.

He blinked to adjust to the fact he was back in his body again, taking a steadying breath in. He had to concentrate on something else. 

“I didn’t say you did. But I’m just saying, you should talk to someone if you’re having trouble. It doesn’t have to be me. Just… someone.”

Leo’s voice suddenly echoed, low and sharp inside Caden’s mind.

“You’re wasting time. Let’s get back to training.”

Caden flinched at the sudden voice, and Mikey noticed, feeling the way Caden briefly tugged at his hair in surprise.

“Ow!”

Caden lets go, feeling guilty as he groans and places his hands over his head. “I can’t do it…! Can’t even braid damn hair.” He growls to himself, unaware how Mikey turns his body around fully to look at him.

“It’s okay… you just need practice.”

“I don't have time for practice!”

The two became quiet, Caden left short of breath at his abrupt shout. Mikey knew it wasn’t just the hair he was talking about. It was everything else. The sword training has been taking up most of his time lately.

Mikey wishes he was able to help in some way. Help him, guide him through the challenges he has been experiencing. He also wishes he could just see into his mind, look at what’s bothering him.

….

Wait. He can!

Mikey perked up in realization, gasping softly. “That’s it!” He announces suddenly, making the young mutant flinch back in puzzlement. “What is…?” He mumbles, suspiciously narrowing his eyelids at him.

“Ninja Mind Meld!”

Ninja what…?

Caden didn’t seem to understand, but he saw how Leo stiffened, his breathing sharp as he hisses under his breath. “Shit…” He curses, hand under his chin in thought.

“What’s wrong?”

Leo looks down at him, unsure how to even explain the problem. Mikey however saw his confused look, and cleared his throat. “It’s okay if you don’t remember. It’s basically where I enter your mind, and I guess communicate with you. Oh! Maybe I can transfer your soul back to your original body?” He mumbles, the last part of his words causing Caden to widen his eyes in shock.

Transfer… his soul?

While he didn’t mind the idea of Leo leaving him right now. He was scared… scared that what if Mikey messed up and accidentally grabbed his soul instead?

Pull him out of his own body and—and...!

“I don’t want to mind meld.” He quickly spoke, noticing the way Mikey tilts his head before he softly chuckles. “I promise it won’t hurt. We’ve mind melded tons of times together.” Mikey assures, inching closer to Caden, raising his hands up to prop them against Caden’s head.

Caden however felt the need to either fight or take flight. And so, he stumbled back, reflexively raising his arms to roughly slap Mikey’s hands away from his face, eyes narrowed, pupils shrinking out of fear and breathing ragged.

“I said no!” He exclaims, his voice briefly stung from the raw shout.

His vision blurred, black splotches forming the corners. Mikey watched with an open mouthed expression of shock, “L-Leo—“ He began to say, but flinched back when Caden let out an actual hiss. Like he was a wild, cornered animal.

Shaking his head soon after, he quickly pulled himself up to his feet.

He turned to the exit of the dojo, slipping on his feet for a second as he barreled his way towards the entrance. Running out as Mikey sat there, mouth agape in bewilderment.

He… he hadn’t seen that look on Leo before. Or at least not since they were teenagers, when the Krang first invaded.

With a bone weary sigh Mikey smoothed out the messy attempted braid from Caden. Frowning down at his lap. He had really hoped he was going to be able to get through to him.

But now he felt like he’d failed him, Leo and himself. He just wants his big brother back. Why was that so difficult to ask?

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

I can see what Leo sees now with baby Caden—

APOLOGISE FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT WERE MADE, I TYPE PRETTY FAST AND OFTEN DON’T SEE THEM UNTIL I ACTUALLY PUBLISH THE CHAPTER. THEN I’D TRY AND FIX ANY MISTAKES WHEN I SEE ONE.

Quotev - Do I Look Like Him?

Ao3 - Do I Look Like Him?

First Chapter here

Next Chapter here

Taglist:

@turtl3sk3tch3s

@katiemaycreate

[chronicallyill-loser08]

Do able-bodied people have any idea, do they even have the slightest f*cking clue how embarrassing it is to “just lean” on them?

like today, I was forced to walk through a museum with horrendous vertigo and tremors in my legs. my legs literally would *not* cooperate. I couldn’t walk properly. so what happened? I had to lean on not just one, but two people. and not even a casual lean. I was *gripping* onto both of them just to stay upright.

and the whole time it’s “take a seat, you need rest.”

yeah, I do. you’re right. but I didn’t come to the museum to sit on a f*cking bench. I came to see the museum. the art. the exhibits. the stuff I was excited about. not to sit and watch everyone else enjoy it without me.

“just lean on me then.”

sure. why not. that’s already mortifying enough, but okay, because my cane isn’t helping today and that’s the only mobility aid you’ll “let” me use. so yeah. I’ll lean on you. not because I want to, but because I have No. Other. Choice.

and then while I’m doing that, you’re constantly stopping to look at stuff *you* like—stuff I don’t even care about—but I don’t get a choice, do I? I can’t just wander off and go see what *I* want. it’s either stick with you or try to walk away, collapse, and make a scene.

or worse:

“you wait here, I’ll be right back.”

so now I’m standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, no one to lean on, completely unsupported. and someone asks me to move. I can’t. and I have to explain myself, again and again:

“yeah, I can stand, I just can’t walk.”

“no, really, just go around me.”

“sorry, my human mobility aid wandered off.”

and all of this wouldn’t even be a problem if I was allowed anything else. I’m not even asking for a wheelchair at this point. just something. forearm crutches, a rollator, literally anything that lets me support myself on both sides. anything but having to rely on you.

it’s humiliating. it’s exhausting. it’s frustrating beyond belief. I just want to be able to enjoy things like a normal person. I just want to walk without it turning into a whole thing

I’m so. damn. tired.

[winters-on-the-wing]

Oh what you said responding to the ask about transphobia/bigotry I've been looking for the right way to describe it: hard to romanticize! Thats like the foundation of this fandom it seems. Everything is whitewashed and stripped down to its bare bones to be the most relatable and palatable shit! Complexity for this fandom is babying regulus and feeling bad because his brother (rightfully so) left home. Like cmon are we not capable of being deeper than that. We base everything on the most bland tropes like brother's best friend and grump x sunshine! Truly moving and deep literature explores people in 3d not the 2d shells of people that can be described in singular words/attributes that bastardize them and make them walking caricatures of people (eg; Marlene = lesbian, Mary = pretty, James = sunshine, remus = wolf, and so on) the best art isn't easily palatable! The movies that leave you feeling ill or uncomfortable (in the good way) for lack of a better word are usually some of the best films. I feel like even aside from the racism, sexism and other problems of that sort, this fandom just lacks depth? We gave ourselves full creative power over these characters and bastardized them and it makes me so sad. There are so many smart and deep people in this fandom and I wish their analysis and ideas about the fabdom were he more popular ones instead of the ones that are easy to romanticize. Let's see conflict, not everyone has to be friends, people can be complex and not completely bad or good. Make them have complicated relationships outside of ships. What are the odds of about 13 people (the most popular characters) ALL finding their soul mates in highschool??? Like u can have sm fun exploring these characters but noooooooo. Ok sry for rambling, I'm a yapper. I'll stfu now

no. don’t stfu. never stfu.

you are absolutely right and you really boiled down something i’ve always been frustrated with.

i’m an actor. it’s my JOB to take characters from text, to see words on paper, usually ONLY dialogue and stage directions, and create a person, a fully fleshed person with wants and goals and fears and a soul. it’s my job to use the clues that the canon text provides and make the character pop out of the page, to make them compelling, to make them HUMAN.

if it’s not human, who the fuck cares? i know i sure dont.

i don’t want to read about plastic robots as they go through all the tired, stale tropes. grumpy x sunshine, enemies to lovers, best friends brother. it’s all the same. it’s a formula. it’s spoon feeding. i’m not trying to hate on people who enjoy it but i just can’t imagine being satisfied with that. the barest touch of the surface level when there’s so much if you go deeper. so much more HUMANITY. so much more meaning.

i need grit. i need people with palpable flaws, people who don’t always get what they want falling into their laps when they want it, people who are IN THE WRONG. people who think bad things and do bad things and regret it, people who do bad things and don’t regret it. people who exist messily. people who make me uncomfortable to read about because they’re so like me and i have to face the fact that i’m not perfect.

i don’t want a perfect romanticized story where the little white boy gets rescued by the big muscular casanova. i don’t want a robotic generated formula where the perfectly placed lesbian couple get just enough sentences to be seen so that the author can feel progressive and inclusive and then the lesbians get shoved off and forgotten about forever.

what happened to authenticity? what happened to bringing a piece of your soul to the art you create?

again i’m not trying to tell people how to enjoy fandom. do what you want.

it just personally saddens me how hard it is to find work with that human spark in it. the spark of curiosity, of intrigue, of going deeper than the bare surface level. i love art that makes me think. why does nobody THINK while creating anymore? sometimes i just feel so alone in this, surrounded by plastic when i want to read and write and engage with work that was written with a beating heart so palpable that it can be heard between every word.

i wish fanfics and headcanons and concepts that were created with thought were more popular than they are, instead of the same bland thing being shoved down my throat every second of the day. i constantly get hated on in this fandom for thinking differently than everyone else, but why is individuality an enemy? im starting to think that i get hated on in this fandom for THINKING, period.

does that make sense?

maybe i’m pretentious. it’s highly likely i’m pretentious.

[omghallucinations]

enhypen heeuseung: wow this is a lot of nurturing benevolent energy especially for someone with a relentless work ethic and need to succeed???

psa: i went into this cold! i have seen clips of this boy off tiktok and i listen to enhypen's music a lot but idk him well, so lmk if this resonates from what u see lmao

wow, i am genuinely impressed! i would trust him with a lot more responsibility than your average man. there is a lot of empathy and compassion and sense of responsibility to others here! capture my heart, why don't you????

ok let's get started.

birth time unknown, my nemesis! well, we've got a range for his moon (21° virgo to 5° libra). no clue about rising, angles, etc etc etc. but! we can dispositor tree.

we've got a mutual reception tree, where venus and mercury rule each other.

someone with a mutual reception tree:

diplomatic

sees other people's perspectives

negotiator

two dimensions of the personality, might lean one way or the other

libra mercury has more influence unless his moon is in libra in which case that branch moves over to venus.

either way we can see his primary actors are gonna be : anxious kind of (self) critical art/relationships vs. diplomatic communication. the work ethic (saturn) also is important (saturn is in charge of mars, his willpower, who is very strong in capricorn), so is the moon (emotions, security needs) and jupiter (beliefs, travel, learning). question--does he have... anxiety? either way probably good to have him on a team bc he can smooth over conflict well.

unsurprisingly his libra sun is way down on the list of influence!! a libra sun is in its fall. a planet in its fall is like stranded somewhere where it does not have any currency, does not speak the language, has no idea what is going on. like it's still around but boy is it confused. libra suns + identity issues 4-ever. libra sun is leaky. the moon and rising are gonna be more influential, and in this case virgo vibes regardless of moon--venus in virgo wields influence over his sun.

ok so just ran into a problem that made me almost rage quit this entire post lmao--at around 8:45 pm virgo venus becomes libra venus. ugHHH this would change a shit ton. he seems like a day chart person though right??? i don't really know much about him idk!! i'm gonna move forward under the assumption that he has virgo venus and if it turns out he was born after 8:45 pm i'm gonna be pissed

cardinal squares and oppositions: rest??? but how could i provide for the family/for the good/for society if i rest??

right away there's a t-square-- jupiter opposite mars, mars square sun/mercury, sun/mercury square jupiter. t-squares are like... hey girl you ever repressed an emotion??? but also they are insanely productive. no one is gonna rest with a square.

cardinal oppositions and squares: activity, drive, FIX the PROBLEM right NOW, only god can stop me, allergic to asking for help capricorn mars: i am in control thus everything that goes wrong is my fault because i could have probably prevented it with willpower clearly i didn't eat enough spirulina or do enough planks cancer jupiter: ♫ we are the world  ♫ we are the children ♫ we are the ones who make a brighter day so let's start giving  ♫ mars opposite jupiter: i will INSPIRE the BELIEF into everyone!! there is no such thing as overcommitting!! i can take on infinite tasks!! so can you, believe in yourself!! capricorn opposition cancer: spare the rod spoil the inner child no wait we need to focus on nurturing, let's go work no let's go home, safety is through success no wait safety is through the family,

but never fear, squares are here! an opposition may fight forever, but a square comes to some kind of understanding or at least working relationship

capricorn square libra: ah let me rephrase, in a way that is pleasing to you and me, that actually the greatest goal is diplomacy... i mean we're going to do it my way but i will absolutely compromise because i am civil and refined... so... cancer square libra: wait i have no idea what is going on right now or what i'm feeling lol? um could someone... help me.... i'm totally fine giving up completely actually... idk... i really need family/friends to identify myself... ha ha... mars square sun: i know what i want and i will go after it! i must achieve or who am i??? i can never rest i always have to be Doing. my daddy/mommyfamily issues are not the point and have nothing to do with my need to succeed!! mars square mercury: uh what were we talking about haha? jupiter square sun: i will give u the shirt off my back i will give you my last protein bar i believe in growth and freedom and i am definitely as confident as i act like i am ha ha why would you think i wasn't??? jupiter square mercury: i have a great wide angle view of the world and humanity and stuff, also i overheard someone say something one time and completely misinterpreted the situation!! but it's okay i am focused on the future... the possibilities...

lol this is someone who has a really really rEALLY hard time resting. has he ever been injured?? if so, that must have fucking sucked for him. very Achievement Orientated but not in a selfish way, honestly much more focused on the group rather than the self--with the cardinal squares, he has no aries involved. it's all about the society (capricorn) the family (cancer) and the group/relationships (libra).

ahh it reminds me of someone who works 5x harder than other people and someone's like, omg leave some for the rest of us why are you working so hard it makes us look bad, and he's like "..." because it's not about putting himself above someone else! he's not succeeding at you, ok! he is doing so for you, be grateful, god.

mutable opposition: peter pan syndrom

gemini saturn opposes sagittarius pluto, this is generational but also a fun and cute opposition imo. i mean not pluto-saturn, that fully blows, but gemini-sagittarius!

gemini-sagittiarius: talkative, restless, Eternal Youth, down with the kids, subjective v objective, scattered v whole, fox v hedgehog

yay!!!!

however...

saturn-pluto: :(

saturn = anxiety fear and pluto = deep core terror, so together... mm. can be a fear of power, fear of power being put on him, fear of having power himself--heeseung may kind of dodge any leadership roles because he doesn't really trust himself.

saturn-pluto is usually very suspicious of people in authority anyway. can go back and forth between constructing and deconstructing, rules and no rules, i am a good little capitalist v burn all banks. you know what i mean!!

with this and heeseung's capricorn-libra square, he has a lot of stuff around authority and fairness.

let's talk air trines!

you can see an exact trine between heeseung's libra sun and his aquarius uranus--he's not too fussed about fitting in but he is very fussed about equality and equity and humanity and stuff. he has a talent for fairness. also he's lowkey weird with that uranus-mercury trine. idk if he shows this, but he is absolutely very strange.

with the trine from mercury to saturn, his work ethic is natural to him, and he has an ability to be responsible you don't always see with the amount of air energy lol.

also he's super wise and can leave shit in the past when he needs to. i would trust this guy with a lot of responsibilities actually! he has the ability to put his own ego aside and make the decision that's best for the collective even if it's worse for himself, SUPER rare.

damn... i may have to stan??

also uranus mercury and saturn are all retrograde (and neptune) so he's gonna have to unpack a lot of stuff in his life, he's on an Individuation Journey, lots of karmic untangling, go with god my past life baggage buddy

venus-moon conjunction: 🥺

on the left, 12:00 am. on the right, 11:59 pm. either way, we've got a venus-moon conjunction, it's just how close the conjunction goes.

dude i may really have to stan. this is such an adorable conjunction. is he a mama's boy? he might be.

he is so sensy and also is afraid of hurting other people's feelings. he feels rejected easily (maybe less than some people with this placement, bc of his other aspects) and assumes everyone feels rejected easily too, so he is very careful. people pleaser to the max. very sensitive to criticism, probably wants to fix everything immediately if he feels like he made a mistake even if was barely a mistake. girl same, mood.

it's a really good thing he has that capricorn mars and the cardinal opposition/squares because they keep him from being too delicate or yielding, gives him the willpower to move through hurt and things like that. moon-venus conjunction can be too accommodating but capricorn mars hates accommodating so it's a good balance.

hm he might have some gender things, like traditional beliefs around gender. idk if they are actually true to his personality though--it seems more like expectations he was raised with and in some ways they counter his actual personality, but he holds onto them anyway.

and whoever he gets with... you may have to deal with an overly involved mother-in-law.

venus-moon... square chiron: in conflict with his Wound, like it fuels his sensitivity but also there is maybe a feeling of... all is not how it seems, like he may not totally believe someone when they tell him they love him. bright side he is really really caring. (also his chiron is conjunct his south node... hm something is up with his childhood. his mom might be overcompensating for something she feels guilty about that happened to him when he was a kid? idk.) square lunar nodes: essential for his soul's growth--he's gonna have to deal with his own emotional safety needs and relationships in order to Grow. his south node in capricorn is very "workaholic" and his north node in cancer is very "learn to focus on ur own life and family", so that's clear. also at 0°, his lunar nodes are very potent. opposite pisces lilith: virgo v pisces is very martyr vibes, very rescuer or being rescued, he might have a tendency to want to save people that is actually about him wanting himself to be saved? very service-orientated though but he'll need to look that in the face to see what's underneath that need

fixed stars & asteroids & stuff

heeseung's sun is conjunct the fixed star spica. damn he's got some guardian angels. this is the star of protection and benefit. pure dose of helpful energy. you don't always get what you want but you get what u need.

saturn is conjunct the asteroid vesta, who is all about commitment. leadership vibes. he may shun the leadership role but it's after him anyway. when he says he's gonna do something he does it. trustworthy, needs to Believe in something to commit to it.

damn this is good boy disease. what the hell dude. do we have to be so virtuous??? god!!!

---

well!! i am still pausing my enhypen deep dive until i look at all of their charts so we will see, but what do u guys think his he more this one or that one?

actually this is extra hard edition because libra moons and moon conjunction venus are like. super similar lol. PEOPLE PLEASERS.

anyway. is he more overthinker or compulsive smoother-over? what's the vibe?

thank u for joining me on this journey. i've learned a lot and now my heart hurts but i too am air dominant so i don't wanna talk about it :)

[noneorother]

The grand unified theory of Good Omens S2, Hangs on a double meaning - Answering why .5 + .5 = 25 lazerii *The end?*

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The end?

Welcome to the end of the Bonkers Meta Series featuring your favourite Art Director/Clue detective. This is it! I'm going to wrap up this series as well as I can with what I think really happened, the final 15 and why Crowley says the things he says. Meta, Spoilers, Beware! All that. “Armageddon only happens once, you know. They don't let you go around again until you get it right.” 

If you've read my Metatron post you'll know that I thought there were *at least* two time loops with tweaks to achieve different outcomes, seeing as we seemed to be presented with two versions of events a lot of the time, two similar lines of dialogue, double meanings for lines etc etc. If you want a really good recap of a lot of the Clues that have already been compiled already you can go through them here. Yesterday I added my own : The columns in front of the bookshop get stained by a demon, and the stain stays and goes. But why do we care?

Here's my final thesis using the context I'll put together below :

The Metatron is changing the past and the present on earth using the book of life. He's forced a time loop of the last few days at least 50 times over a period of (realtime) months to get the outcome he wants : the separation of Aziraphale and Crowley to allow him to complete the second coming. It only worked once. Let me explain.

1) Not time skips, but stitched loops

My theory about the columns goes like this : a demon touches the right column in the attack on the bookshop, and dirties it. The problem is, in every episode we get multiple versions of the column that are dirtier or cleaner. Why? Because a demon has been touching that column in *more or less* the same place and getting it dirty over time, but the effects on the bookshop only layer every loop and reset, instead of being erased. The layering aspect is super important and I'll get back to it. For now, if we take it that the column gets dirtier over many loops, we now know what we are seeing : a bunch of different time loops stitched together to create a sense of time moving forward in a way that we can understand the story, but that skip forward and backward through the loops. Cleaner column = earlier loop. Here's discussion about clock hands if you want evidence, some even saying the hour hand seems to be going backwards in the first episode or the last, or even that the minute and hour hands must be backwards to make sense. If we think of time skipping ever forward and actions getting deleted (as some have said), then clocks going backwards makes no sense. But if we think about it as a time loop where things and actions are ever being tweaked and changed, then OF COURSE the times won't make sense anymore. People don't show up at the same time if they don't do the same thing they did before. The biggest time discrepancies I've seen in a single scene are A) Crowley's phone and watch being an hour apart in S2E1 and B) Inside the bookshop between Gabriel's fly flashback in S2E6 and him and Beez holding hands, there's an hour difference on the clock. I think that by the time we get to very late loops, some things are happening up to an hour later in the day. A simple example we are shown up top is the Eccles cakes. They are there in the first part of S2E1, but then they are no longer there somewhere along the way. In the first loop we see an ordering action/receiving Eccles cakes action, which takes *longer* than just not doing that and going straight to the shop, so that loop will be slightly later. It gets infinitely more complicated the more loops you are looking at, and we have at least 50 of them. How do I know that?

2) A 25 lazerii miracle

If we know that effects on the bookshop are cumulative and don't reset (because columns), then let's try this idea on for size : Aziraphale and Crowley have been performing the same half miracles on the same spot for 50+* loops, and each times they are layering and getting stronger. .5 demon + .5 angel = .5 angelic miracle x 50*ish loops = 25 lazerii miracle goes off in heaven on the latest loop. Shax then confronts Crowley in his car about a mighty miracle, so we're in a loop here where we've layered quite a lot, but not the last loop because he still has the original glasses/ *but also* Crowley's sideburns are long. Compare it to the scene directly after, and how sunny and bright it is. We're in a later loop and and earlier loop simultaneously.

3) Crowley's been testing So I've been searching for a *reason* that Crowley wears a turtleneck in S2E2 and thren new glasses and changes sideburns, and he seems to be up to some pretty crafty spy stuff, seeing as 1) he seems thrilled by it, and 2) he won't shut up about it (How will our hero cope? Jane Austen, nasty piece of work, master spy) There's also this Clue :

Crowley has a secret, as we know everyone with their hands deliberately in their pocket does in the series. I think Crowley knows before Aziraphale that something is wrong, because he's getting little snippets of memory and feeling, and so he's going off to try and change things about himself, the Bentley and the shop to remind himself in the next loop and leave himself clues or change outcomes if he fails to escape. In the early loops it seems like a fun spy mission, but by the end he's pretty tired and jaded that he doesn't seem to be making any headway on his own.

It *also* explains him throwing books and canapés on the floor in the bookshop to see if it changes in other versions. The problem being that Gabriel keeps cleaning everything up and reorganizing the titles to Crowley can't tell if it's his system or not. (lolsob)

It makes this line seem like he can't fit the loop pieces together anymore, and is trying to make headway without any information, rather than a pre-fall reference.

And this line probably much later in the loops (New sunglasses, long sideburns) :

Okay so! To recap : Everyone gets reset every time, and they make different choices because of past and present edits. But, most heavenly and hellish things don't obey earth laws, and therefore things like miracles start layering, and memories start seeping through the loops. (Point 4 is optional but absolutely hilarious, so I'd like to think it's worth speculating about)

4. The flaw in The Metatron's plan

There's a huge flaw in The Metatron's plan however, and it's that Heaven and Hell don't work like earth does. He's spent so many loops trying to get the result he wants, that he doesn't know that something crazy is *also* happening in hell. Every loop, Shax is emptying out the legions of demons until they barely have enough low level lackeys to go up at all. Hell is understaffed because no new people come into hell in the loop from earth, and they're sending all the demons that aren't subject to the reset into battle. This isn't a negotiation, it's a montage.

So the attack on the bookshop isn't one attack, but waves, and the waves get less powerful each loop. Stitched loops would also explain why Shax now hands Crowley his mail again in the last attack after *just* handing it to him on the park bench, like, 4 days ago in an earlier loop.

I don't have evidence for this directly, but if The Metatron put Maggie together with Nina successfully only in the last few loops, then she's fighting in the bookshop only a few times, and doesn't invite the demons in any other times, which might be why the only evidence is the column, and not books being ruined. But, it might also explain why the demon Eric gets discorporated a bunch of times in a row, he's doing it later and later in each loop. (These are kind of contradictory thoughts, I know.)

5. Aziraphale realizes too late. When I wrote part 4 of this series I was pretty awed by the fact that Aziraphale managed to figure out the Metatron was rewriting things after only hearing him say ONE LINE of dialogue. However after more thought, I think that he's been getting close to the truth a bunch of times by communicating with Crowley in previous loops. In each successive loop he tells Crowley later and later, and it's been getting them reset as punishment each time they figure it out together. By the end they barely communicate at all, because they can feel the danger. Watch his reaction here, in what we can assume is a *very late or last loop (because of the time on the clock)*

He stops himself from interrupting and telling Crowley something important he's just realized : that he's seen Gabriel and Beez get together before. "I know what this means..." 6. Saraqael is helping both sides without them knowing We see Saraquael helping Crowley immediately with the trial when she finds him in heaven. Why would she help Crowley without having ever met him before as a demon? The exchange of "Crowley I remember you, we worked on the Hosehead nebula together" and "I meet a lot of people, (*he doesn't say* I don't remember you)" is a code. They are both trying to communicate what they remember like spies on a bench in St.James park. Who recognizes who, who's trying to stop this madness. Maybe once Crowley gets to heaven this time he's seen multiple trials with multiple endings, and Saraquael has seen them too, I don't really know. BUT she's also communicating with Aziraphale at one point. Look at Saraqael in this scene again about the 25 lazerii miracle. She *remembers the book slap* and then the *looks* at Aziraphale in regards to Gabriel.

Yeah Gabriel, IT NEVER F*&?%ING WORKS IN ANY LOOP SO STOP DOING IT. - Saraquel, probably. Are Saraqael and Aziraphale testing later/earlier in the loops as well? Is this when the miracle was weaker? Who knows! 7. The Metatron job offer was many, many offers

It's really hard to tell with all the pieces of the puzzle moving around, but I think I can count 7 job refusal loops by Aziraphale in the last fifteen minutes. Here's a summary 1) Chinwag with Crowley in the room 2) We should go for a walk instead, here's a coffee 3) You don't have to answer immediately 4) Go tell you friend the good news (This is the important one), it's the last one where he tries to convince Crowley to come with him 5) I need to take care of my bookshop 6) The Metatron puts Muriel in charge of the bookshop, but Aziraphale wants to take something with him 7) Aziraphale straight up runs out to Crowley with "I think I-" 4, again) The Metatron takes him out of the bookshop. "Ready to start"?

Trying to screenshot all that would be insane, so just go rewatch it with all this in mind, and look at how the lighting changes inside of the bookshop and the jump cuts to different angles, and how his face resets every time. It's HEARTBREAKING. 8. The argument

I'm so blown away by the acting and writing (as well as the art direction) in this show, and it all comes to a head in the final argument. Many important lines have double meanings in series 2, because everyone is trying to speak in secret code to not get caught. Especially in the final loops.

In the last loops, we have an Aziraphale who is moving ever closer towards accepting the Metatron's offer, with the straw that broke the camel's back being he could restore Crowley as an angel**/save him; and Crowley who is moving ever farther away, by having to hide all of his Clue gathering, and confiding less and less to Aziraphale in each loop.

Check out the double meanings going on in this whole exchange if you consider that they are trying to save each other using secret codes neither one of them can hear. It's so shattering. Especially when you consider they've probably made it to this argument at least twice, and Crowley convinced him the first time. Why do I say that, you ask? 9. No Nightingales

Because I think Crowley remembers a loop where A Nightingale Sang was playing when they kissed, and Aziraphael didn't leave, but he knows they aren't in that version anymore. 10) I'm a demon, I lied. I'll probably post more abut the secondary characters because Shax, Furfur, Michael, Uriel and Nina etc all have roles to play, but for now, this is it.

----------------------------------------- Thanks so much for reading the gigantic post. If you disagree with my thoughts, or think this is terribly wrong, that's totally fine! I won't be offended. Without a real season 3, everything is just ether. Fingers crossed. I'd also like to thank The Ineffable Detective Agency, @embracing-the-ineffable, @cobragardens, @indigovigilance, @yowlthinks and more for inspiring me and feeding my brain with posts. *Loop numbers could actually be 25+ if you think that .5 demon mircales + .5 angelic miracles pour register as 1 whole miracle in heaven, I just didn't want to go into that in the main review. **The Metatron's meddling in the past seems to me trying very much to highlight to Aziraphale how *good* and righteous Crowley is, despite being a demon, in order to convince Aziraphale that joining him in heaven is a real possibility, and he should push for it.