#i might add more if i get any ideas but shrugs idk i made this up on the spot bc im hyperfixiating a normal amount

[grolarbear]

AJR ASK GAME

cough idk how to do these but i want ajr asks

❤️- First song you've heard from them 🧡- How long you've been a fan 💛- Favorite album 💚- Favorite music video 🩵- Favorite brother 💙- Have you been to one of their shows (if so tell us about it) 🩷- A song you dislike 💜 - Song you relate to the most 🤎 - Song you think is underated 🖤- How you found out about them

[kellykadesperate]

hi hey!! :3 i am back lolol <3

i SCREAM, the fast and furious comparison LMAO. you are so so right, i cannot unthink this now djdjdjdjd. it's sad because both Fast and 911 started out pretty good but then just went on. and on. and on. i really wonder how long 911 will actually stay until they realize that they've completely overshot it. your reply made me think more about the family dynamics in the show. in the first season specifically, we actually had a setup with the main characters (except hen, i think) who, in some way or another, were or at least felt kinda alone? the show being about found family made a lot of sense for all characters back then. however, they simply are at a completely different point 5 seasons later that it just falls flat. you're right, all of them got their own family units outside of work now, all of them do sm better mentally and emotionally, and none of them feel as connected to each other anymore because of that (and maybe because the necessity for it simply does not exist any longer). so why go on with this shtick? then again, isn't that also true for 911 LS, with them having family outside of their crew? however, somehow it feels different to me, and i think i can pinpoint the reason: 911 LS actually invested time to build up friendships on screen and continuously makes an effort to show the characters bonding, so i truly believe it when they say that they are friends. with OG 911, they are "family", but i do not really feel it anymore? i do not wanna sound too harsh but it's simply my current feelings. family does not automatically equal being close, and i think the show has lost the plot a bit with actually, yk, showing us that these characters are real true friends who would hang out even if you removed all other family ties. i cannot for the life of me recall a reason why buck and chim, hen and eddie, eddie and maddie etc would actually hang out if they weren't "connected" by work or some pre-existing family ties.

ohhh, i completely forgot about the whole firefighter albert thing. it came out of nowhere, and i was mostly just ??? about it, though excited to see him being a reoccurring character! alas, that bubble burst quickly, like with all other secondary/side characters that seemed promising at first and then petered out :(. i liked the fact that he did not enjoy the job as much as chim! to me, it felt a bit like chim was maybe trying to connect to albert through the job the way that he himself connected to kevin in the past? the idea would add some depth, especially if albert still chooses to do something else in his life and has to communicate why firefighting might simply not be for everybody. i would like to see how this plays out but i want to be really honest... i am not even sure i won't just skip past any of that even if we get it. at this point, the majority of the show feels very inconsequential, i cannot really bring myself to invest energy in truly liking side characters (i am mostly just indifferent), and the writing is often quite wonky and unsatisfactory anyway, so my own headcanons or speculations usually end up being more interesting to me in comparison sksksksks. i do not expect a real moment of clarity and it leading to anything substantial so i just (shrug emoji).

everything appears heightened but ultimately is so so low stakes and so easily solvable. exactly this. i can enjoy some silly drama shows with stakes so low that they are on the ground, just to be clear, but the show must know to not take itself so damn seriously at the very least. i think 911 kinda fails at that – it wants to be so deep but like, we're standing in a kiddie pool right now, good sir, calm down LOL.

I feel like the show would genuinely benefit from a shock death or something that would change everything completely … Idk I just feel like sometimes the very slightest change is seen as devastating to the group lmao. yes and an even bigger YES to those two points! i think it needs some new goal, and one new goal could be bobby leaving (for traumatic reasons or not) and somebody else stepping up as captain permanently, or it could be something entirely different. i did not and still do not think that they'll have the guts to actually do it, though, so i was not worried a single second about the finale of season 6 or at any other point. especially when looking at the second thing you pointed out: the show cannot even be normal about depicting the normalest changes in life lmfao. this is also connected to how you said that the "additions to the team" feel "calculating" - yes yes yes. the show just desperately wants to drive home the fact that the only Good Team of the 118 fire station is the main characters. everybody else cannot understand them because they're actually normal about their job ig. everybody else is just accessory to establish this fact again, and again, and again. and that's kinda the crux of the show's problem: when you establish the fact that literally nobody could ever truly fit into or enrich their current family dynamic, meaning that the family dynamic is not allowed to change permanently ever, you know that none of these characters are allowed to go anywhere. otherwise, you'd lose the one point you're trying to bring across with the show. so going in circles forever it is!

It makes both characters really unlikable and I know there's a bigger narrative at play in both characters but that's not explored enough. 10000% with you on this topic. i'd loooove to both of them to just... stay single for at least a whole season or longer with zero interest in dating. mostly because i think the show would genuinely not know what to do with buck and eddie if it wasn't pushing them into their next romantic endeavor that they are not ready for every damn season. and that is OKAY, for them not to be ready! all i need is for the show to acknowledge that not-dating is not some disease that will make them die a miserable, pathetic, lonely death! i challenge 911 to give them friends and hobbies instead and actually build a life and story for these characters that is not painfully amatonormative pls pls pls. i agree with what you said: these characters have more overarching stories but the show simply doesn't drive those storylines purposefully enough. we do see development here and there (buck choosing his one-person armchair and being happy with it, i.e. he deliberately chooses to stay single over being with someone who does not accept who he is; eddie truly confronting his past trauma for the first time and finally going to therapy, realizing that he should create a good life for his own sake) but it all still ends in romance anyways. which, yk, would not feel so bad and flat to me if the complete lack of other meaningful things in their lives wouldn't be so evident at this point.

your reply actually reminded me again of all the times i enjoyed 911 LS more than OG 911 simply because they understood the assignment when it comes to writing solid friendships and how they are supposed to look like! indeed, the setup of them all coming together as strangers was very interesting, a "clean slate" for all, and there were so many moments where they all just. hang out. just chilling and vibing together. in the gym and the bunk room and at carlos' place etc! i can still remember so many scenes where it felt like they are friends not because they work together – they met through work, yes, but they make a conscious effort outside of the work context to stay close/become closer! gah, this makes me wanna catch up with the show again :')

ah yes, owen strand. in all honesty, i did not like the choice of him being such a big focus point either. the real strength truly lies in all the other characters, who all really bring something to the table. i was honestly invested in all their stories because they seemed to have something outside of work that is integral to their identity, and that just stands out positively in comparison to OG 911, where the characters' contribution to the narrative and society seems to be mostly linked to their job, and their relationships are also mostly tied through their jobs. 911 LS generally focusing more on the characters' uniqueness, no matter if it's their race, religion, culture, disabilities, or any queer topics, relativizes the importance of their jobs without overshadowing it. yes, they do incredibly essential work for society, and they love doing what they do, but they all have some things in their lives that are much more essential to them as people. taking away their uniforms only reveals how these characters' lives are not solely defined by their jobs, which i cannot really say for the OG 911 characters.

It's made things actually feel like choices genuinely matter. true!! tk becoming a paramedic is a wonderful example, but also so many other things. how the strands moved from nyc to texas, how the other characters (except judd) also moved to texas, as one pivotal point of the show. owen explicitly chose these firefighters to form a new crew because they were successful in the job before coming to texas, telling us that (a) they were accomplished adults before the new "found family" was even established and (b) were still able to recreate that success as a newly formed team. that sounds like the kind of take on found family that i would want to see depicted in OG 911 as well, and it also immediately sets up a certain freedom for the characters to make permanent, life-changing decisions that are allowed to be for the better. much unlike OG 911, where everything that challenges or remodels the found family must always be Bad™. also the fact that these choices get made and actually change the course of a character's career or life is so important for my enjoyment. they get a chance to show that they support each other through these changes and that these changes do not have to negatively affect their friendships. THAT is how a healthy found family should work imo.

interesting to compare these two. the shows are somehow alike but so so so different. btw do you watch any shows that you think are better than 911 and 911 LS regarding the points of criticism that we've discussed? :O i am currently looking for new shows to try out, but idk what the next thing could be. i definitely need something that is overall more well-written than 911 to cleanse my palate, though, LOL. recs are appreciated but no pressure <3

hey hey!

i cannot for the life of me recall a reason why buck and chim, hen and eddie, eddie and maddie etc would actually hang out if they weren't "connected" by work or some pre-existing family ties - OH THIS. I think with 911ls they make a thing of like hangouts and being silly and I also like how Judd is never there lmao. Judd has a wife and children and that again makes a lot of sense. He loves his team but they're not his family. He has strong friendships but he goes home to his wife. A lot of the crew are around the same age, and have similar interests and so that makes sense. With 911 they're not close in that sense, and we don't see them close in that sense despite being very involved in each other's personal life lol. They're all settled and content in some way or another and that makes characters like Buck stand out because he's not. And in comparison therefore: he's messy. He's poor little has no clue what he wants Buck in a way that feels like they're almost laughing at him lmao. So yeah that seems like a big difference between the shows/characters. Saying that though, I do think although 911ls show that they're more like friends, we see a lot less of the in-depth talks/chat 1:1 friendship stuff we have on 911 so it's all a mixed bag.

the majority of the show feels very inconsequential, i cannot really bring myself to invest energy in truly liking side characters - yep yep yep, i love side characters who break up some of the big tension of the show and for a show like 911 bringing in new characters should be fairly easy. I always forget that Eddie isn't an OG S1 character. But yes, when there's such investment in the core characters it obviously falls at the complete expense of any side characters they have attempted to build on.

i think 911 kinda fails at that – it wants to be so deep but like, we're standing in a kiddie pool right now - LOOL yes. I do think a lot of it comes down to having good serious actors on the show and wanting to lead into the drama they can bring and it's all well and good but at the same time, I really think the show thrives when it's silly. Some of the most memorable episodes have been the full moon one, the oceans 11 type one etc. It's fun and silliness is really just ... fun and silly ! It makes it what it is. If it wants to be dramatic, give me drama with lifelong consequences.

everybody else cannot understand them because they're actually normal about their job ig - IDK why but I just find this so funny. It really is just ... a job, a rewarding remarkable, amazing job. It just feels weird when they really hammer home how close the crew are and important they are but really don't show them all hanging out for extended periods of time. In fact they make a point of showing them hanging out separately: Chimney and Hen, Buck and Eddie, Hen and Athena even. It's just a choice!

genuinely not know what to do with buck and eddie if it wasn't pushing them into their next romantic endeavour - Like??? I was fully convinced Kameron was going to try and kiss Buck or something, I still kinda think they'll go there because ... why not!

but it all still ends in romance anyways - Yeah exactly this. I think without them meaning to it sets some sort of tone that doesn't feel ... nice? It feels like 'now he is content with being happy/working on himself he will have a romantic partner to top it all off' and like yes I get it was the finale but it does feel like going round and round in circles with both of them. Either give them permeant girlfriends they genuinely like lmao and build on that fully or just have them be single and explore their life a bit more. The whole destined to be alone, unloved, I'll never find someone who knows me is just ... I'm sick of it and makes both characters feel like they actually don't know what they want. I really did laugh when Buck was like Natalia sees me for me, she SEES me and it was like?? is this the writers telling us she's the one?? Or were we supposed to pick up on that? Like are we supposed to pay attention to this woman? Because look what happened with Taylor

it felt like they are friends not because they work together – they met through work - Oh my god yes. Yes. That's it. It's the idea that they genuinely enjoy each other's company/admire each other and want to hang around after work to continue seeing each other. It's sweet. I even remember when they did a mini sl about Nancy feeling like she wasn't part of the crew and made a point of being like: Is she invited to hangouts? No. Let's invite her. It also makes the idea of them invested in each other's lives seem a little truer, more authentic rather than them hearing about snippets of things on the way to calls (I don't think they've ever done that set up the way 911 do)

911 LS generally focusing more on the characters' uniqueness - Yeah! Obviously when you have a show with loads of cast members it's tricky to find some sort of difference to make them stand out, have them all shine and I think the show has got better at allocating sl's because the first 2 seasons were so Owen centric and he still manages to worm his way into sl's but at least there's an effort to have sl's completely separate from him.

telling us that (a) they were accomplished adults before the new "found family" was even established and (b) were still able to recreate that success as a newly formed team - THIS. They are adults. They had a job interview/were recruited because they had something special and we as an audience got to see that straight away, and see that in action. IDK I just think it's a lot easier to let your audience see a group of friends grow into a family than start by showing them THIS IS THE FIREFAM FAMILY

they support each other through these changes and that these changes do not have to negatively affect their friendships - I think a good example of this (again don't read if you haven't seen s3) but the end of s2 shows that the firehouse is effectively shut down, and they all have to go their separate ways and it just shows a nice way of moving these characters along but not damaging ties they still have. It was a really nice/interesting take and was genuinely surprising/made me think how are they going to get out of this?

I don't know about recs that are the same vibe but I would definitely recommend: Severance, Succession, Abbott Elementary (they're all so so different but amazing writing!)

[centralperkspoison]

right behind you. | e. munson.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her pronouns used!)

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, strong language, slight angst? eddie says something thats traumatic for him so idk if you'd count that as angst.

Other: hopefully theres no messups! i originally made (Y/N)'s name "Ayda" but i tried to change all of the Ayda's to (Y/N)

also.... SAY HELLO TO MY FIRST ACTUAL POST!

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary : You, Eddie, Robin, Steve, and Nancy are all on a boat above Watergate. Having only known Eddie for about a week (or eight years if you count seeing each other in the hallways and going to the same middle school), you were too scared to confess your crush on him, even though whenever Dustin poked fun he never denied any feelings. You try to chase after your friends into Watergate, but Eddie stalls you.

“No,” (Y/N) sighed, pointing her attention to Steve, who had a brilliant idea to swim into the bottom of Lover’s Lake and check out Watergate. “It’s a stupid idea.” She finishes. Steve rolls his eyes, “(Y/N), you’re being overdramatic,” He sighs, “No I’m not!” She says, looking over at Nancy, “What do you think Nancy?” (Y/N) pouts. “I think it’s stupid, but he’s the only one willing to do it.” Nancy shrugs. “No. No. No, I’ll do it.” (Y/N) suggests, taking off her jacket and shoes. Eddie turns his attention over, as he attempts to light a cigarette with a worried expression hidden in his features.

No way. No way in hell is (Y/N) actually going to go into the lake where a guy just died.

“No offense (Y/N), but you wouldn’t last a second down there,” Robin says. “Excuse me? Who fished your ring out of the pool when we went swimming? With no goggles might I add!” (Y/N) objects, taking off her shirt to reveal her sports bra. “Okay, one, that’s just gross, two…” Robin pauses, eyes erotically glazing over (Y/N)’s body, “Uhm,” She continues, closing her eyes, “And two, you came up in a coughing fit after thirty seconds.” Robin finishes, finally opening her eyes again. Steve smiles and raises his eyebrows at Robin, but Eddie walks over to (Y/N). He picks up her shirt, turns it right side in, and throws it over her head. “I think it’s a stupid idea, and I think stupid ideas are for Steve, and Steve only,” Eddie says, securing (Y/N)’s shirt on her arms, corners of his mouth twitching up into a smirk once he sees the blush that crept its way onto (Y/N)'s cheeks.

Please don't go into that lake, (Y/N).

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirting with me, Munson." (Y/N) teases. Eddie's smirk immediately falters as he backs up.

After thirty seconds filled with silence and the sound of (Y/N)'s clothes hitting the bottom of the boat, Eddie decides to speak up.

"I'll do it." He says from his seated position on the edge of the boat. Everyone turns to face Eddie with a bewildered expression prominent in their features. "Hell no!" (Y/N) says standing up, "I'm doing this." She says, putting her foot on the side of the boat, and getting ready to dive off. Eddie glances over to Steve, who is almost done taking off the clothes that he doesn't want to get wet. (Y/N) goes to push off from the boat, but Eddie grabs a hold of her legs, and pulls her down, into his chest, and repositions his hands around her torso. Once realizing the position Eddie has her in, her eyes widen and she gulps. She takes in his woody aroma, it awakening each and every one of her senses. She stays calm for a few more seconds until she realizes that Steve is about to dive off the boat. "Seriously?" (Y/N) yells, pushing her way out of Eddie's grip. "Whenever he gets killed it's all of your guys' fault." (Y/N) says angrily.

(Y/N) walks over to the group of nerve racked girls. She can't help but feel bad for Nancy's torn apart nail beds.

"Where are we at Wheeler?" Robin asks, "Closing in on a minute," Nancy responds calmly. (Y/N) sighs, and lowers herself to the ground, and sits on her knees, peering over the side of the boat in a child-like manner when Steve abruptly comes up from under the water, causing everyone to scream.

"I found it!" He exclaims over the chorus of terror. "You found it?" Nancy asks, "I found it, yeah, I found it." Steve repeats. Robin pulls out the large walkie-talkie, and pulls up the silver rod. "Dustin you are goddamn Einstein. Steve found the gate." Robin finishes.

"It was wild. More of a snack sized gate than a mama gate, but still. Pretty damn big." He explains. (Y/N), who is still holding a grudge over Steve from moments prior can't help but smile at how excited he is.

As Steve gets ready to pull himself over the boat, something tugs on his legs, causing him to rock the whole boat. He freezes up, and then it tugs again, dragging him down, causing everyone to yell.

"Steve!" Nancy, Robin, and (Y/N) all call out. "No, no, no, no. What the hell was that man?" Eddie panics. "Nancy really, what happened?" Robin asks, "JESUS." Eddie screams. Nancy wastes no time in standing up on the side of the boat and getting ready to jump. Eddie realizes, and speaks up. "Wait, wait, wait," he exclaims, "You're not going in there, are you?" He asks Nancy who takes a quick glance at the water before responding. "Just..." She says before taking a deep breath, "Wait here."

"No, Nancy!" Robin and Eddie yell. "Nancy! Damn you!" (Y/N) says. "What do we do?" She asks Robin while Eddie proceeds to have another mental breakdown. They talk over his faint, "Goddamn it!" 's and "Shit!" 's. "The only thing we can do," Robin says, sitting on the side of the boat and slightly leaning off of it.

"No. No. No! She said wait!" Eddie says. "Robin I swear to fucking god, don't you dare!" (Y/N) yells sternly. "Yeah I heard her," Robin says, responding to Eddie. Eddie scrunches up his face and points down, "...She's in charge!" He responds. "Are you kidding me?" Robin deadpans, "I made that shit up." She finishes before going overboard.

Eddie proceeds to have his six-millionth breakdown of the night, screaming, "Goddamn it! Son of a bitch!" repeatedly. "Eddie, calm down," (Y/N) yells, walking to the side of the boat. "No. NO." Eddie yells, realizing what (Y/N) is doing. She launches herself off the side of the boat, getting ready to swim under, but Eddie follows her close behind and grabs her by her shoulders.

"(Y/N) no. You can't do this. Look at me!" He says, turning her around to face him. "Eddie, our friends are down there probably dying! We can't sit around and wait for their missing report to come out." (Y/N) says, attempting to swim away, but Eddie holds onto her. "(Y/N), I was responsible for what happened to Chrissy. I should've stayed in the room and kept an eye on her, but instead I was in the other room," He says, taking a break to breathe. He stares straight into (Y/N)'s eyes, sparkling under the full moon. "The point is, I could've done something, but I didn't-" Eddie says but gets cut off by (Y/N), "No, Eddie. It wasn't your fault, you couldn't have done anything about Chrissy," "Thank you, but that's not important right now. What's important is that I have the chance to save someone, much less the girl that I've had a crush on since her stupid little cheerleading act with her cousin in middle school, and I'm going to either take it, or go down there with you. So what's it going to be?" He asks.

Wait. Did I hear that right?

Even though he just agreed to practically a quintuple suicide, all (Y/N) can focus on the fact that Eddie just admitted to having a crush on her for the past eight years. The guy she constantly found herself staring at during lunch, because he's not only the only person in that large room that actually has a personality, but the prettiest piece of art she's ever seen. The way his dark eyes trace over her entire figure when he sees her is so enchanting, his woody aroma filling each one of her senses, attracting her like a magnet.

She swims closer to him and puts her arms around his neck. "You just agreed to a quintuple suicide and all I can think about is how you like me." She admits as he wraps his hands around her waist to keep her from moving away with the current. "Hey, Eddie?" She asks, looking up at his water covered face, "Hi, (Y/N)," He says in response. "Can I try something?" She asks, looking between his eyes and his lips. "No," He responds, "Can I?" He asks. (Y/N) lets out a hum in response, signaling he can.

He removes one of his hands from (Y/N)'s waist, and cups her cheek, pulling her head forward to meet his soft lips. The kiss grows deeper as they both appear hungry for one another. Between breaths (Y/N) trys to get Eddie's attention.

"Eddie," She says before their lips meet again, "Eddie." She repeats, "Eddie." She says, finally pulling away. "This better be important (Y/N), that was the best kiss I've ever had," Eddie says jokingly. "Our friends are down there, possibly dying, and we're up here making out." She says, removing her arms from his neck. "Bad on us." He pouts, causing (Y/N) to laugh. "C'mon," She says, taking a deep breath before going underwater. "I'm right behind you." He says.

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

(A/N): lowkey embarrassed. this isn't my best work. i made it way too fast, idk. anyway, first actual published story whoop whoop! enjoy!

also, can you guys leave requests? for any fandom. ANY.

[felassan]

Some DA trivia and dev commentary from Twitter

There’s a lot of different tweets, so I’m just pasting and linking to the source rather than screencapping them all or making several different posts or something. Post under cut for length.

User: Was dragon age 2 your favourite in the franchise?

David Gaider: DA2 was the project where my writing team was firing on all cylinders, and they wrote like the wind- because they had to! Second draft? Pfft. Plot reviews? Pfft. I was so proud of what we all accomplished in such a brief time. I didn't think it was possible. [source] DA2 is, however, also where the goal posts kept moving. Things kept getting cut, even while we worked. I had to write that dialogue where Orsino turned even if you sided with him, because his boss battle had been cut and there was no time to fix the plot. A real WTF moment. >:( [source]

Mike Rousseau: I remember bugging that! And then being told it wasn't a bug, and being so confused. Doing QA for DA2 was an experience. Trial by fire. [source]

DG: So I think it's safe to say DA2 is my favorite entry in the DA franchise and also the sort of thing I never want to live through ever again. Mixed feelings galore. [source]

User: (I personally blame whoever it was for ruining most romance arcs in other games for me; they don't live up to Fenris's romance storyline)

DG: I wrote Fenris, so uh - me, I guess? Or maybe his cinematic designer, who put in the puppy dog eyes. [source]

User: If DA2 had just been an expansion, do you think it would have been better received? There was a lot of great stuff in there, and I think my initial dislike of it was because of the zone reuse. If it hadn't needed to be a full game, would that issue not have arisen?

DG: Hard to say. It was either going to be an over-scoped expansion or an under-scoped sequel. If it had stayed an expansion, it might never have received the resources/push it DID get. [source]

User: I'd love to visit the universe where you had an extra year or so to work on it. You did a very good job as it stands, but it definitely had rough edges. Not just the writing team either. The whole game had hit and miss moments, that just a little more dev time could have fixed.

DG: On one hand, DA2 existed to fill a hole in the release schedule. More time was never in the cards. DA2 was originally planned as an expansion! On the other, if we had more time, would we have started doing that thing where we second guess/iterate ourselves into mediocrity? [shrug emoji] [source] 

Jennifer Hepler: This is what I love about DA2. Personally, I greatly prefer something that's rough and raw and sincere to something that's had all the soul polished out of it. Extra time would have helped for art and levels, but it would have lost something too. [source]

DG: Right? I think we could have used some time for peer reviews (and fewer cuts), but I think the rawness of the writing lent a certain spark that we usually polished out. [source]

JH: Definitely. I think the structure (more character-driven) and the tightness of the timeframe let each individual writer's voice really come through. Polish can be very homogenizing. [source]

DG: I should add I'm not, by any means, against iteration. Some iteration is good and necessary. The problem that BioWare often had is that we never knew when to stop. Like a goldfish, we would fill the space given to us by constantly re-iterating on things that were "good enough". [source]

Patrick Weekes: I appreciate your incredibly diplomatic use of the past tense on "had". :D [source]

User: DA2 was my gateway into the series and I’m so happy it is. I love the game the way that it is. It’s one of my favorites of all time. But I am also aware of everything that was said here. If it were remastered, do you think it would change?

DG: I'd be surprised if it was ever remastered. If it was, do you really think they'd change things? Do remasters do that? No idea. [source]

User: Both sides got undercut as I recall. Didn't that whole sequence also end with the mage leader embracing blood magic? It was very much "a plague on both your houses" moment, at least for me.

DG: Yep. Orsino was supposed to have his own version of Meredith's end battle, which only happened if you sided with the templars. That got cut, but the team still wanted to use the model we'd made for him. So... that happened. [source]

DG: I would personally say that DA2 is a fantastic game hidden under a mountain of compromises, cut corners, and tight deadlines. If you can see past all that, you'll see a fantastic game. I don't doubt, however, that it's very difficult for most to do that. [source]

PW: I love DAI with all my selfish "I worked on this" heart, but DA2's follower arcs and relationships are probably my favorite in the series. [source]

User: As I've expressed many times, I love the game, especially it's writing and characters but, for me, the most impressive aspect of it, in consideration of it's lack of time for drafts and revisions, is the 2nd act with Arishok.  What amazingly complex character and fantastic duel

User: Just played it again and I have to agree. Though he is bound by the harsher tenants of the Qun, he makes valid points about free marcher society. Though it is obvious that he and Hawke will come to blows eventually, the tension builds gradually and understandably

DG: Luke did such a fantastic job with the Arishok I found myself sometimes wishing the Qunari plot had just been THE plot. [source]

User: What do you think would have changed, story wise, if you had more time for DA2?

DG: I would have taken out that thing where Meredith gets the idol. It was forced on me because she needed to be "super-powered" with red lyrium for her final battle. Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that. [source]

User: I deeply lament that there wasn't/couldn't be some sort of DA2 equivalent of Throne of Bhaal's Ascension mod.

DG: I'd have done it, if DA2 had allowed for anything but the most rudimentary of modding. ;) [source]

User: I mean, and I think I understand where you were trying, but how much legitimacy did the Templars and her as top Templar have after they're keeping the mages locked up against their will in the old slave quarters? Feel free to not reply.

DG: I think it's the kind of discussion which requires nuance, and which discussions on the Internet are not prone to. [source]

User: Was a compromise that the quest lines don’t branch? It felt like it was supposed to be that way but then you end up in the same place later regardless of what you pick. Like I hoodwinked the templars so good to help the apostates escape but in Act II they were caught anyway.

DG: I remember us having a lot more branching in the initial planning yes. Most of this got trimmed out in the first or second wave of cuts, in an effort to not cut the plots altogether. [source]

DG: "If you could Zack Snyder DA2, what would you change?" Wow. I'm willing to bet Mark or Mike (or anyone else on the team) would give very different answers than me, but it's enough to give a sober man pause, because that was THE Project of Multiple Regrets. [source] I mean, it's the most hypothetical of hypotheticals. It's never gonna happen. I wouldn't be surprised if EA considered DA2 its embarrassing red-headed stepchild. We'd also need to ignore that in many ways DA2 was as good as it was bad BECAUSE of how it was made. But that aside? [source] First, either restore the progressive changes to Kirkwall we'd planned over the passing of in-game years or reduce the time between acts to months instead of years... which, in hindsight, probably should have been done as soon as the progressive stuff was cut. [source] I'm sure you're like "get rid of repeated levels!" ...but I don't care about that. All I wanted was for Kirkwall to feel like a bigger city. Way more crowded. More alive! Fewer blood mages. [source] I'd want to restore the plot where a mage Hawke came THIS close to becoming an abomination. An entire story spent trapped in one's own head while trapped on the edge of possession. Why? Because Hawke is the only mage who apparently never struggles with this. It was a hard cut. [source]

User: I would LOVE to hear more details about this! I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a short story?

DG: I don't even remember the details of the story, sorry. There was a fight, and you caught the bad guy and then realized none of it was real and woke up idk [source]

DG: I'd want to restore all those alternate lines we cut, meaning people forget they'd met you. Or that they knew you were a mage. Or, oh god, that maybe they'd romanced you in DAO. So much carnage. [source] I'd want to restore the Act 3 plots we cut only because they were worked on too late, but which would have made the buildup to the mage/templar clash less sudden. Though I don't remember what they were, now. Some never got beyond being index cards posted on the wall. [grimace emoji] [source] As I mentioned elsewhere, I'd want to restore Orsino's end battle so he wouldn't need to turn on you even if you sided with him. And I'd want an end fight with the templars that didn't require Meredith to have red lyrium and go full Tetsuo. [source] Heck, maybe an end decision where you sided with neither the mages nor the templars. Because it certainly ended up feeling like you could brand both sides as batshit pretty legitimately, no? That was never planned, tho. No idea how to make that feel like an actual path atm. [source] Maybe an option to go "umm, Anders... what are you DOING?" 👀 [source] And, of course, a Varric romance, because Mary took that "slimy car salesman" character we'd planned and did the impossible with him. I can feel Mary glaring at me for even suggesting this, tho. [source] Lastly, the original expanded opening to the game which allowed you to spend time with Bethany and Carver BEFORE the darkspawn attacked. And, um, that's about it off the top of my head. Zack Snyder, WHAT PANDORA'S BOX HAVE YOU OPENED. [source] Shit, I remembered two more things: 1) Restore the "Varric exaggerates the heck out of the story" at the beginning of every Act, until Cassandra calls him on it. Yes, that was a thing. 2) Make DA: Exodus. Yes, I am still bitter. [source] God damn it, I meant "Make DA: Exalted March". The DA2 expansion, NOT Exodus since that was DA2's original name and makes no sense. Because the expansion ended with Varric dying, and that will always be on my "things left undone" list. [source]

User: Whaaaat?

DG: Well, you know that scene in Wrath of Khan where Spock goes into the dilithium chamber because he's a Vulcan? Well, imagine that but with Varric and red lyrium and because he's a dwarf. ;) [source]

John Epler: I distinctly remember referencing the bit from MGS4 where you crawl through the microwave corridor in the split screen, while cinematic battle rages on the other half. [source]

DG: It would have been glorious, John. Glorious. [source]

JE: I don't think I've ever been so certain what a shot should look like as I did Hawke coming in and finding Varric in the broken throne, just like when he was telling Cassandra his story. [source]

DG: It would have come full circle! Auggghh, it still kills me. [source]

User: Lord, you folks are a little too good at this.

JE: The true secret behind videogame narrative is knowing how to make yourself seem a lot more clever than you actually are. [source] 'Oh, we TOTALLY planned that.' [source]

User: Ok, this thread [the DA2 regrets thread, which is the big chunks above] but Inquisition.

DG: My regrets about Inquisition are, more or less, the normal kind. Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid. [source]

User: You can keep your Varric romance, I want a Flemeth romance goddamnit!

DG: I would allow for one flirt option, and then a recording of Kate Mulgrew laughing for three minutes straight. [source]

User: I had a hypothesis about the repetitive caves in DA2. They're repetitive because it's Varric telling the story and he didn't consider them important.  They're like sets in a play.  (Okay, I really suspect it was a time/money/resources thing but I like my fake explanation better.)

DG: Hang a lampshade on it, maybe? Cassandra: "But that's the exact cave you were in last time?" Varric: "Whatever. They all look the same, I'm not THAT kind of dwarf. Can we move on?" [source]

User: that makes sense, hypothetically to make Varric romanceable and keep his arc—that had to happen for the main plot—I imagine you would have to make double the content (or more)? which would've been a tall order given the time/budget constraints the game was under

DG: Right. When it comes to "romance arc" vs. "follower story arc", we generally only had time to do one or the other. Never both. Romancing Varric would have meant not getting the story of his that you did. [source]

Mary Kirby: The one exaggeration I really, REALLY wanted, that we never got to do was Varric narrating his own death scene with Hawke weeping over him, then cutting to Cassandra's pissed off glaring at him. [source]

DG: Haha! The one I wanted was Varric's plot where he takes on the baddies single-handedly, sliding across the floor like Jet Lee, action movie-style, until finally Cassandra gets irritated and he has to admit Hawke & the rest of the party showed up to help. [source]

MK: We did that one! (He didn't do any Jet Lee moves, though.) Jepler gave him letterboxing to get The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly showdown vibes while he shot a ton of mooks single-handed. [source]

DG: Wow. Shows how much I remember. [source]

JE: I found it! I remember seeing this sequence as my treat for doing a bunch of much more challenging work. It was fun to see how far I could push our limited library of animations. [link] [source]

DG: Heh awesome. I could have sworn it was cut, honestly. I think I was even in that meeting. [source]

User: no disrespect but that’s surprising and rich of Mary “Hard in Hightown” Kirby to think DA2 shouldn’t have had a Varric romance when she wrote an entire book of Varric’s self-insert character pining over his Hawke insert character… HIH is the reason we had VHawke Summer 2018

DG: I can't *really* speak for Mary, or how she feels about it now compared to back then. I only know how she felt about it back then, and I'm not sure it was as much the concept of the romance but that Varric's entire story would be bent to "romance arc" ...a very different thing. [source]

JH: I remember pushing to have the first DLC start with Hawke having an option to ask Varric, "Did you tell Cassandra about us?" and if you picked it, Varric would answer, "Of course not, baby. I told her you were sleeping with X..." and then proceed as if you had had a full romance. [source]

DG: I still wonder how that would have gone over. x) [source]

JE: Okay, one more DA2 thing. Putting together the cinematics for this scene was a blast. [link] [source]

MK: These lines are my greatest legacy. I want "Make sure the world knows I died... at Chateau Haine!" inscribed on my tombstone. [source]

JE: I was so glad no one said 'no' to the crane shot. [source]

MK: It needs that crane shot. It's the perfect icing on that cake made from solid cheese. [source]

DG: The designers were all "we need more combat" and I think we were all "I think you underestimate just HOW interesting we can make this dinner party". [source]

JE: And finally. I think @SherylChee wrote the one-liner. I think we had a collection of like, 20. [link] [source]

Sheryl Chee: Yeah! Something like that! I remember submitted a whole bunch and Frank said you only needed one. Wish I'd kept the other fifteen. [source]

JE: A random chooser where, each time through the scene, you get a different one-liner. [source]

JE: DA2 is the project I'm the proudest of. I also absolutely get that it didn't land for a lot of people. But I don't think it's inaccurate to say that, in a lot of ways, DA2 defined my career. [source]  Everyone spent a year working at their maximum ability. I was a fresh cinematic designer and was given all of Varric's content, as well as the Act 1 Finale mission. It was a lot for someone who had been doing the Cinematics thing for literally 6 months. [source]  There's some stuff in there I can't look at without wincing. And there's some stuff I'm genuinely proud of. Not to mention, it was my introduction to most of the writing team. Several of whom I'm still working with today! Albeit in a different capacity [source] Also, weirdly, one of my most enduring memories of Dragon Age 2 is how much Bad Company 2 we'd play at lunch. It was a LOT. [source] Every game I've worked on has a game I played attached to it. ME2 is Borderlands. DA2 is Bad Company 2. DAI is DayZ. I, hmm. There's a progression there. I don't know how I feel about it. [source]

User: Is DA4 going to be tarkov then?

JE: I've kind of churned out of Tarkov for now. Probably Hunt Showdown, at least right now. [source]

User: I think people also don't take nuance into consideration -- like I FULLY acknowledge the flaws in my favorite games and will openly criticize them, but that doesn't mean they're not my favorite games anymore??? You can like and thing and still be critical of it.

JE: A lot of my favourite shit is deeply flawed! I acknowledge it and I think it's interesting to dissect the flaws. [source]

User: I still wish Justice was an actual character in DA2 rather than a plot point.

DG: There was a moment during DAI where we *almost* put in you running into Justice with the Grey Wardens, and he's all "Kirkwall? I never went to Kirkwall" [source]

User: Does that imply that Justice was shoehorned in to DA2?

DG: Nah, it was an in-joke where we thought it'd be fun to suggest that "Justice" was simply some demon that tricked Anders in DA2. Wooo those tricky demons! We didn't do it, though. [source]

User: [about templars]  except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

DG: I don't doubt that many people agree with you, and yet people can and do argue on behalf of the templars as well. My place isn't to pick a side, but to provide evidence that players can interpret for themselves [source]

User: Can you shed some light for us on how DA was able to do multiple same-sex romance options for different genders but the Mass Effect team treated them like the plague? What process existed for your team that just wasn't their for the other tentpole franchise?

DG: Different people making the decisions, almost different cultures. I don't know what it's like now, but for many years the Mass Effect team and the Dragon Age team were almost like two different studios working within the same building. [source]

User: It truly boggles the mind. Kudos for doing demonstrably better on consistent queer representation than the ME teams. Y'all never needed us to make petitions to try to get the studio's attention and ask them to do better by us. That's the fight we're once again embroiled in now.

DG: Honestly, I don't feel like tut-tutting the Mass Effect team. They did their part, and if they were a bit later to the show than the DA team they certainly did more than almost every other game out there -- and willingly. [source]

Updates begin here

User: So what was the reason for naming Dragon age 2 "Dragon age II" and not using a subtitle?

DG: As I recall, that was purely a publisher decision. I think they wanted to avoid the impression it was an expansion. [source]

User: Is there no chance of ever remaking DA2 under better circumstances? -Somehow remove the repetitiveness of gameplay by making changes and updating the tech and adding much more to the storyline. It could almost be a new very exciting game.

DG: I'd say there's zero chance of that. Let's keep our hopes up for the next DA title instead. [source]

User: I am a little confused here, help me out here please! How exactly was the cut boss battle with Orsino supposed to work out? How it would've kept him from turning against the player?

DG: It means that, if you sided with the templars, the entire boss bottle at the end would have been against Orsino and the mages. No fight against Meredith. The end decision would have been more divergent. [source]

User: I do remember that one of the reasons going around for that, was that resources were going to the transition to Frostbite. I'm still not fully sold on that having been a good choice. I felt that more time should have been given for that transition considering it was made for FPSs

DG: We didn't transition to Frostbite until DAI. Given our time frame for DA2, I don't think we *could* have transitioned to a new engine. [source]

User: Since your talking about the what could have been for DA2. Could you say what your script was for Anthem? Cause I remember reading that you wrote the plot on that game.

DG: I created a setting for Anthem and scripted out a plot - but, as I understand it, almost none of that ended up being used. So it's a bit pointless to talk about what I'd planned, as that'd be for some completely different type of game. [source]

User: [in reference to the exchange above where DG said “Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that.” re: Meredith] except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

DG: I don't doubt that many people agree with you, and yet people can and do argue on behalf of the templars as well. My place isn't to pick a side, but to provide evidence that players can interpret for themselves. [source]

If I missed a tweet, got the wrong source link or included a tweet twice, feel free to let me know and I’ll correct.

Edit / Update: Post update 22nd April

[alaskasmonsters]

Patch-Up | Levi Ackerman

levi got injured and you clean his wounds and patch him up, feeling guilty about being the reason he got hurt.

pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

w.c: 2.665

warning: very minor description of injuries, mentions of blood, Levi is kinda very soft in this one

a.n: i wasn’t actually planning to finish this so quickly, haha, levi i love you. also, i feel like he might kinda be ooc??? i just idk, maybe? i hope it isn’t too bad, though.

A frustrated sigh left your lips as you inspected Levi’s face closer, trying to hide your concern about the head wound and the now dried-up blood that marked a trail from the man’s hair line down to his chin.

He’s been hurt during your fight against Kenny and his guys, hitting his head horribly at one point during, leaving a nasty cut behind.

You already felt bad about that, since it was kinda your fault he hit his head in the first place, as he had to protect you in a moment you weren’t entirely focused and would have certainly died if Levi hadn’t swooped in and saved your ass.

It didn’t help that Levi’s eyes, who were usually set in a cold and unbothered glance had grown softer, which smoothened out the frown he almost always wore on his face.

It was terrifying.

You hoped the man didn’t have a concussion because of your stupidity.

“I’ll clean the wound,” you mumbled weakly, repeating words you’ve already said once to remind yourself to keep moving towards him.

You were hyper aware of the captain’s eyes on you and the way the matratze softly bounced as you sunk down on the bed beside him. You reached for the bucket with fresh water and the cloth hanging off it and noticed in horror that your hands were shaking.

Calm down. It‘s only a little blood.

Dipping the fabric into the water and wringing it out you tried to focus your attention on calming your breath, scared Levi would notice you panicking and get annoyed by your sensitive nature as he once called it.

As you were sure your heart rate had slowed you turned again, sending the brunet a small smile, hoping it looked reassuring, as you moved the cloth to start cleaning around the area of the eyes first, so he could see again.

Your hands were still shaking, you noticed bitterly, but you tried your best to make it seem like it was fine.

A hand then took hold of your wrist in a surprisingly soft manner, holding your arm in place.

You froze in surprise, eyes glancing up to find Levi staring at you. His gaze studying you calmly.

“I‘m okay,” he said.

You averted your eyes, biting your lips.

So he had noticed.

Of course.

He was way too observant to miss your fidgety movements and shaky breath. You should probably be more surprised about the soft tone of his voice and the absent annoyance in his features.

„I know,“ you assured, trying and probably failing at putting a tone of certainty in your voice.

Levi studied your face once more, before he gave a slow nod of approval, letting go off your wrist again.

You hoped he didn’t see you visibly relax after he did.

Quickly, you went to work and started cleaning off the dried blood from beneath his left eye first. That proved itself more difficult than you had expected as the constant weight of his eyes on you made you feel nervous and short-breathed.

Silence fell between the both of you, the only sound being your breathing and the occasional water splashing, when cleaning off the rug.

“Close your eye,” you ordered as you had removed all the blood from his cheek.

Levi did what you told him without complaining, closing his eye while he continued watching you out of the other in the meantime.

You clenched your jaw, slowly growing frustrated by the eerie silence between you two and Levi’s uncharacteristic calmness.

Not that he usually screamed at you, but the aura of annoyance that enveloped humanity’s strongest most days, especially when interacting with you it seemed, had disappeared.

It kinda scared you.

His persistent glance on you, now out of two eyes again as you moved to clean off the cloth, would have felt more comfortable if he’d just rolled his eyes once in a while.

It almost seemed like he was expecting you to do something, or hoping maybe. Although you had no idea of what that could be.

Slowly the silence was growing heavy for you, the urge to fill it with words becoming unbearable. So when you turned back to move on to his forehead, softly brushing dark strands of hair out of his face you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I‘m sorry.“

The familiar frown appeared on his face again and your heart jumped in your chest.

“What are you talking about?“

You shrugged, trying to focus your attention on your task at hand instead of letting your eyes shift back to his.

“I was being stupid and didn‘t pay attention and you had to save my ass...now you‘re hurt,” you whispered, words dripping with guilt.

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes and you cursed yourself at being so hypersensitive. Levi hated when you cried about stupid shit, he hated it when you were being dramatic.

You bit your lips, forcing the tears back down.

„Tch. It wasn‘t your fault your ODM gear malfunctioned, brat.”

Levi did finally sound annoyed (his voice still had that soft nuance to it, though, so it didn’t completely count).

“If I wasn't distracted that moment, I wouldn't have been almost sliced up by one of Kenny’s guys despite my malfunctioning ODM gear and you wouldn’t have had to swoop in and save my ass and then you never would have gotten hurt...” i explained, hands moving faster to rub the blood off of his skin as my voice rose in frustration.

If you had only been able to save face, keep calm and not fall into utter panic the moment something didn’t work out as you had expected it, too. Then this would have never happened.

Levi was right. You were irresponsible and childish and hot headed and...

A cold hand snuck around your wrist once again, squeezing your skin once, twice. Your hand stilled. Turning your face away, you bit your lip in frustration.

You had been told often, by almost everyone you’ve ever gotten to know throughout the years with the Survey Corps, that you wore your heart on your sleeve. Some found it endeatring, calling you soft hearted and gentle, while others were (rightfully) scolding you for it, saying you’d never make it far in this kind of profession when you weren’t even able to hide your frustration with the smallest things.

Armin, one of your new recruits, had once told you you had an honest face. Said it was the reason many people trusted you, since they knew you couldn’t hide your lies or insincerities as easily as others.

Levi had told you many times that it was your biggest disadvantage and he was right. You’d never be able to rise in the ranks, never would be declared the leader of a squad or trusted in a position with responsibility. After all, nobody wanted to take orders from someone who couldn't hide their fear, anger, frustration or sadness.

You almost expected Levi to scold you for it once again, grip your wrist and tell you, no, order you to get a grip, not to let anybody see your weakness...

He didn’t.

“I told you, it wasn‘t your fault,” he told you sternly as his thumb softly stroked the inside of your wrist.

Your brain so gracefully short-circuited at the action and unwillingly, as if you were pulled towards a magnet, your eyes were drawn back towards Levi.

His facial expression was just as monotone as usual, but his eyes, they were different still. An emotion you couldn’t quite grasp hidden just beneath the surface. You didn’t know what exactly it was, but it made your heart flutter.

“I‘m still sorry though,” you protested weakly, smiling a little, hoping it would ease the thick tension.

Levi continued to study your face in silence for a few seconds before he finally let go, with a roll of his eyes and a scoff.

You could hardly hide the feeling of triumph that gave you.

“Brat.”

You grinned at him, turning your attention back to his wounds.

You hadn’t even noticed how long you’d already held his hair back, cradling his head in your hand.

The realization made your cheeks glow and you quickly sneaked a look at the man but noticed thankfully Levi had either not noticed or decided not to comment.

You went back to your job, chest a little lighter.

When you were finished cleaning off all the dried off blood you took a closer look at his injury. Despite the vehement blood loss the cut in his skin was relatively small. It didn’t even need stitches, although it might leave behind a bump, considering the velocity he had hit the roof with on his way down.

You sat back on your hackles and raised your finger. You gave Levi a stern (or hopefully stern) glance as you told him to follow your movements.

“Don‘t be an idiot, i don‘t have a concussion.”

You gave him a pout, unmoving as you eyed him stubbornly.

Judging by how easily he gave in, indicated by a sigh and another roll of his eyes, your worry might be justified.

You started moving your hand slowly and Levi followed the movement for a while, sending you a glare when you started drawing circles and spirals into the air.

You just gave him a grin.

“Okay, any dizziness? Headaches?” you asked.

“Why need a headache when you‘re around?” Levi answered sarcastically.

Seems like he was alright enough to be a little shit, then.

“Don‘t insult the person who‘s been cleaning blood off of you for 10 minutes!“

Now the only thing left to do was patching up his head, Thinking about it, a bandaged head would probably only add even more to his already above average appearance.

You started applying the cloth, carefully wrapping the material around his head. Levi endured your slow process like a champ.

You peeked at him from time to time, making sure the man had no complaints. He was very precise and hated sloppy work and you didn’t want him to think of you as unfit to fix him up. After all you had been the one offering, no, persisting to take a look and you didn’t want him to regret giving in to you.

“Stop looking at me like that, brat.”

You frowned, glancing down at him again.

“What? I don‘t know what you mean. I‘m not looking at you in any specific way.”

The corners of his lips moved up slightly, close enough to resemble a smile and your breath stuttered at the unfamiliar action. Your eyes were pulled towards them, the soft curve of his mouth was strangely captivating to you.  

“It‘s the way you‘re always looking at me,” he explained with a teasing tone and his smirk widened a little, making him look less and less like the Levi you’ve talked to every day.

Your face flooded with heat and you quickly snapped up your eyes, to no longer stare at the man’s lips (yes, you had been staring, how embarrassing) but instead into his eyes.

Big mistake.

The amused glint you found there made your face flush an even darker shade of red.

You could curse yourself and that you were once again acting like a smitten teenager instead of a soldier in front of your captain.

Trying to gloss over your embarrassment you shook your head, scoffing softly. Then you focused your attention on finishing your work with the bandage.

“I don‘t look at you any differently than I look at other people,” you declared in frustration.

He laughed. Levi Ackerman, emotionally stunted Levi Ackerman laughed. It was quiet and breathy, more likely a chuckle, almost inaudible, too.

But it shook you to your core.

“You have no issue declaring your love to me multiple times a day, but now you‘re getting shy?“ he asked in amusement, cocking his head to the side.

You huffed.

He wasn’t wrong, you were awfully direct with your affections towards the captain. Just like you couldn’t hide your emotions when it came to your face, you were horrible at concealing them in general.

How could you not comment on his strength and attractiveness when it was a blatant fact. Although you often did it in a joking manner, teasing Levi for having the prettiest face in the Survey Corps and acknowledging his skills with the ODM gear.

It wasn’t fair he was using this against you now.

“Shut up!” you grumbled, pulling at the cloth to straighten it out again.

Levi did shut up, although the smile didn’t fall from his face and his eyes watched you work with interest.

You finished quickly, partly because his gaze on you was nothing short of unsettling, partly because you hoped you’d get away before he started full on teasing you.

You couldn’t quite hide your frustration (as already established) and let out an exasperated groan.

“And stop smiling!” you warned, not sure where you’ve gotten the courage to do so.

Levi followed your movements as you picked up the bucket and brought it across the room to empty its contents into the sink.

“Is my smile bothering you? Didn‘t you say i should smile more?“ he asked in confusion.

“Yeah, but just in general. Not when i‘m in the room!“ you corrected him halfheartedly.

The chuckle you got in response made your brain short circuit once again.

How the fuck was this man so hot?

”Any specific reasons as to why, brat?“

You could only speak of luck that your back was turned towards Levi so you could hide the traitorous shade of red your face must be spotting at this moment. There would have been no denying it if the captain had chosen to comment on it.

Knowing him, he would have.

“Shut up.”  you protested again, subtly raising your hands to your face to cool your cheeks a little.

You couldn’t see his face this way but you were sure that Levi put his newfound ability of a smile, maybe even a smirk, judging by the goosebumps you felt on the back of your neck, to use.

While you were busy washing the bucket, Levi got to his feet to study your work in the mirror by the cupboard. He took a few seconds, and you believed he must be sorting the criticism he had by fatality, starting with the least life threatening mistake you made and moving on to the most hard hitting insult.

Despite what you had thought he gave his reflection a satisfied nod.

Okay, what?

“Decent job, brat,” he complimented and yes you might have combusted that moment.

You turned back to the sink, a satisfied smile growing on your lips. Your stomach felt all fuzzy and warm at Levi’s praise.

You didn’t notice the captain approach, only noticing his presence when he was already leaning into your personal space, whispering a soft “Thank you.” into your ear. His hot breath fanned over sensitive skin and you froze in your movement.

To torture you or maybe he didn’t get enough fun out of the situation already, he then proceeded to plant a small kiss to the corner of your lips, missing just enough so it wouldn’t count as a real kiss, before retreating again.

He left the room as if nothing of importance had just happened, leaving you behind, frozen in your spot and heart hammering in your chest.

Levi was already gone when you were able to shake yourself out of the shock.

You carefully touched your cheek, the ghost of a sensation of soft lips against your warm skin still prominent. The memory of him lingering for just a second too long now fresh on your mind.

A huge grin split your face, the urge to jump on the bed and hug your pillow while giggling manically overcame you out of a sudden.

You really were acting like a smitten teenager.

[lillian-nator]

Ranch AU

Or, as we all call it, The Cowboy AU 

Essentially, this was something that I created, and it’s gonna be purely fluffy, with a small bit of angst here and there. Any of the angst will be hurt/comfort. It’s meant to make us all feel better after those fucking harsh lore streams. I started it, based off of some shit in the Dad!Schlatt AU, and after that I honestly didn’t write most of it. It had really been a project in the discord, because we were all sad and shit, so if you have some fluff to offer, please do! I am happy to make almost anything canon - and we could always use more ideas. :)

I hope you enjoy some mindless farm boi fluff!

BASIC INFO: 

It's SBI's Ranch (Phil is Dadza, Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur are his sons)

Phil, sells to the local stores, and manages the crops. He doesn't do too much labor anymore. He hired his boys for that.

Dream, SapNap, Purpled, Tubbo, Callahan, and Punz are all hired farm hands

George, Niki, Ranboo, and Fundy work at the shop where they sell their products; Niki makes all of the dairy products, Fundy and Ranboo stock, label prices, and keeps track of sales, and George works customer service with his Gogy magic.

Wilbur works with the sheep, the goats, and he trains the dogs (Collies - they herd sheep), he also works with the crops a lot

Schlatt isn't hired but he might as well be. He can be found wherever Wilbur is, and is probably drinking a beer he stole from Phil. He doesn't get paid, but he eats all of their food.

Tommy works with the cows, the pigs, the chickens, the horses (sometimes), his goose, and the dogs / cats that they own

Tubbo works with Tommy. Essentially. But he also works on the crops, and the bee farm that they have set up.

Techno works with the horses, and is currently training to be a veterinarian.

Dream works on horses with Techno - they race the horses competitively - but otherwise, is where ever he is needed (usually crops)

Purpled works with Tommy and Tubbo. He mostly works with Tubbo on crops and his bee farm.

Punz and SapNap haul things. As your resident Chads, they are in-charge of moving heavy things and doing manual labor.

Callahan is their repair man. He fixes tractors, and machines on a daily basis.

SOME HEADCANNONS: 

HENRY, a saga:

that henry has a matching bandana to the one Tommy has so that everyone knows thats henry. Tommy doesn't like it when people touch henry so henry gets a bandana - Shark -

when Phil first started raising Tommy, he would've never guessed that he would turn out the way he did.

He was loud, and brash, and hit his brothers, and made fun of the neighbor's kids,  but then Tubbo became Tommy's best friend, and then Phil introduced Tommy to the cows.

The cows are Tommy's everything.

When a Bred Heifer is due, he sits with them everyday past their due date - he sat with Betty for 5 days when she wouldn't birth a calf. He was so fucking worried.

When one of his cows are sick, he sleeps in the barn until they get better. His last days with Harvey fucked him up.

Tubbo, Tommy, Purpled, and Ranboo spend long nights at the farm, and Tommy always leans against Henry as he stares up at the stars.

Henry who his best girl (all cows are girls and Tommy doesn't give a shit about gendered names). Henry who wears a matching bandana. Henry who is fluffy, and warm, and Tommy's everything. -

Sometimes when Tommy had a bad day, whether it’s stress, or school, or just whatever, Tommy sleeps in the Henry’s stall with her. Phil has so many pictures of Tommy curled up with Henry. From when she was first born to now. - Eye

Tommy hates winter because that’s the one time of year Phil won’t let him sleep in the barn. Even with the layers and heat lamps it’s too unsafe. Tommy always gets up extra early in the winter. Both because he has to check and break ice in the water troughs but also because he misses his girl - Eye -

Henry's mother, Betty, was the first Cow Tommy had helped during birth. He sat with her for 5 days when she hadn't gone into labor past her due date. It took 9 hours for Henry to be born, and Tommy was there through the entire thing -

Well, almost the entire thing. He was at school for the first hour of labor, and was so pissed at Phil when Phil knew and didn't immediately come get Tommy from School.

It always felt like Tommy and Henry had a special bond because Tommy literally raised Henry from birth. -

They didn't think Henry was gonna make it when she was first born, but Tommy was fucking determined, and bottle fed that cow every single day and night. When she was slowly weened off milk, Tommy got unironically sad that he didn't have to bottle feed her anymore.

He still visited her every morning, and milked her mother at dawn, right after he got eggs from his hens. -

Henry waits for Tommy at the end of their long ass drive way when he gets home from school. She knows that when the bus pulls up that her boy is back and so she’s always there waiting lazily for pets and a nice walk together back to the house. Even when it’s cold and someone is waiting for the kids to get home in an ATV or something Tommy always walks back to the house with Henry - Eye

Thinking about how long these fucking country roads are. And how Tommy and Tubbo have the same bus stop even though Tubbo and Tommy's houses are a couple of miles away. Tommy has to walk a mile to get to the beginning of his driveway, and seeing his favorite girl there is like a reward at the end of a journey. Tommy probably keeps a bag of feed in his backpack, which is just a mixture of grain, hay and corn, and gives Henry a handful to thank her for waiting for him.

Clementine, The Goose: 

Tommy has a goose, and names it Clementine. 

He found her in the woods one day, when she was very young, and he decided he was going to keep Clementine. 

Clementine is only ever nice to Schlatt and Tommy. No one knows why. 

Clementine follows Tommy around. Very endearing. 

Phil doesn’t question it at this point 

NEW MILO, the sequel:

OG Milo is a kitten that Wilbur found on the side of the road, in the rain, and he took the kitten in, trying to save him. Wilbur immediately got attached.

Techno pulled an all nighter, half spent  trying to save OG Milo and the other half comforting Wilbur. "You couldn't have helped, he was too starved and out in the rain for too long." Phil adds that if Techno can't save something, it can't be saved. - Ethan

Wilbur's next cat was named New Milo in honor - Ethan

Anyway, New Milo has three kittens. Blood God, Boots (given to Fundy), and Bumbles (given to Tubbo). They're called the Bees and they were born Christmas Eve - Ethan

BLOOD GOD, the pussy:

Blood God is Techno's cat. Its just a ferall little molly that loves techno too much. - M -

After Techno helped New Milo have her litter, he wasn't originally gonna keep any of the kittens, but he saw this tiny thing with the orange muzzle and just: stole her.

He is also nicknamed Blood God, for both his skill in hunting and healing

He originally named her Piglet because the orange spot looked like a pig snout [the main reason he chose her and not her stronger littermates] but called her Blood God teasingly when he first adopted her

Wilbur didn't realize he meant it as a nickname and told everyone her name was Blood God

Techno still calls her Piglet, but everyone else calls her Blood God because that's the name on her collar.

Most of their cats aren't collared, but Phil made her a custom collar because he was worried she'd get lost hunting with Techno and Dream - Ethan -

Blood God is such a batshit cat. She's a runt, really, oddly small compared to her siblings, and she's their best mouser

She's the cat that everyone leaves scraps for, but never tries to pet out of fear

Often she'll climb up people's legs and sit on their shoulders, and it's the only time you can pet her.

She is very, very affectionate with Techno and he loves her very much. He has her very well trained, and she comes with him and Dream when they go hunting sometimes alongside a terrier.

She's a little itty bitty calico molly and she has an orange patch right over her muzzle - Ethan

TOMMY'S HENS, the chicks:

He gets real defensive of his hens. They lay eggs for him. They deserve to be treated well. -

Tommy does in fact have an egg incubator; Sometimes it's just better. Tommy prefers letting his hens care for their own eggs, but he does still use the incubator - Ethan -

Some chickens enjoy being thrown so they can flap and shit. A few days after passing ownership of the hens to Tommy, Phil is going down to the crops and just sees Tommy chucking his hens and watching them rush back to be thrown again

he feels a hint of "what the hell" but he notes the gentleness tommy does it with and how the chickens seem to be enjoying it and he shrugs and keeps walking - Ethan -

Once Wilbur was helping Tommy with the chickens and he dropped an egg

Unfertilized, of course, but Tommy looked like you'd just punted a toddler

Three years later, Wilbur isn't allowed to touch the eggs anymore

Tommy's paranoid he'll hurt a live one

"Get out." "What - Tommy it was an accident, it was just one egg." "If you aren't gonna treat Phoebe's eggs with care; You can get the fuck out." "Tommy -" "Out." -

the quality chicken eggs depends usually on how the chicken feels. While under his care, the eggs the chickens produced were really good.

Under Tommy's care? Phil's eggs tasted like horseshit in comparison - Ethan -

They have their like, main barn and to the side of it is a little pond. The chicken coops are a little beside it, with the singular duck coop (he only has four ducks) closest. He calls the area the Business Bay

AGES: 

Tommy - 16 Tubbo - 16 Purpled - 17 Ranboo - 17

Techno - 19 Wilbur - 21 Schlatt - 19 Phil - idk like 45 or some dad shit

Fundy - 18 Niki - 19

SapNap - 18 Dream - 19 George - 20 Punz - 19 Callahan - 20

RANDOM HC’S: 

Tubbo, Niki, Ranboo, and Fundy are siblings. -

Whenever they eat meat they talk about who they're eating. 

They tell stories about their day and such but they always start dinner, when its meat, saying "rip lmao" and telling stories about them

...they don’t do it when they eat beef

Everyone sitting down with their plates of ham Wilbur: so who was it? Phil: Fern Tommy, already eating: rest in peace fern Techno: he shat on my boots once -

Each of the boys get a few animals that aren't allowed to be butchered.

Wilbur has Friend, Enemy, and Skit the Bull. (Wilbur wanted to name a Bull "Shit", but Phil said no because Tommy was 11 and already swearing too much for his liking)

Techno has none of the livestock. He only cares about Blood God, and his horses.

Tommy has a pig [currently unnamed], his Hens (6 or 7 of them, that lay eggs), and his dairy cows -

Phil is ALWAYS chewing on straw. -

Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur all call Phil "Pops" or "Pop". They all used to call him "Papa" though. It's like a coming of age thing for the three of them, when they stop calling him "Papa" and start calling him "Pop".

Phil may or may not have cried when Tommy started calling him "Pop" at the age of 12.

ALTHOUGH, all 3 boys know that if you want anything, you call Phil "Papa". Phil can't resist it. -

Techno and Tommy with starry eyes: pops Phil: no Wilbur: Papa Phil, with slightly less confidence: n-no   - Ethan -

Tommy holding a baby calf in his hands that he walls to bring inside for the night because hes in love with her: papa please!! Phil, practically in tears: fine.   - M

[elysianslove]

Hello! I know this may not be your thing but I decided to give it a shot, if not no biggy!

I was wondering if you would be interested in writing Gojo and/or Sakuna with an asexual lover? (One that doesnt feel sexual attraction but doesnt mind kissing and cuddling etc and loves physical affection but nothing beyond that?) And like, how a relationship with that kind of person would come to be?

Because Sakuna and Gojo both give off *he totally fucks* vibes.

So how they ended up with an asexual lover would be interesting, maybe the MC rejects their advances because fear of being hated for being Ase? Because they know that the other person definitely fucks.

How would their relationship work? How would the guy react/comfort the MC.

(Maybe it ends with a epilogue with no sex(as in penetration and blowjobs to be exact but mc later in a relationship would be willing to do things like handjobs and other hands on/Using toys to pleasure their partner because they cant in that way) but lots of passionate makeout sessions/kissing/sucking and worshiping the mc's body? Especially the collar bone)

If you arent into it that's cool! I totally get it!

This is pretty self indulgent after all ahahaha it's hard being an asexual in fandoms lmao.

hi my love!! okay to start off, i’m really honored you sent in this request to me. idk just the fact that you’re trusting me with it is really sweet hehe. i’m fairly knowledgable about sexuality but i don’t like to write about things i’m not 100% sure about because i don’t wanna risk doing anything wrong or accidentally offending you! but!! thank you for going into detail with the request, and i hope this is what you were looking for, and that i didn’t do any mistakes <3

i wrote headcanons so i can go into detail and write for both!! 

some nsfw under the cut, my loves! <3

ryomen sukuna 

i’d say, to begin with, it would take a small while for sukuna to even be accepting of his own feelings towards you. nothing having to do with your sexuality, just you in general, specifically that you’re human and so different from him. i don’t think sex ever crosses his mind, at least at the start, because he’s too busy being really angry over the way he can’t seem to control his reactions to every little thing you do. so he himself won’t actively work at starting a relationship with you.

but he will realize, over time, that you’re not doing anything either, even though he’s been noticing that you’re not pushing him or his advances away. like any act of protectiveness that involves him physically touching you intimately, you don’t reject, and you’re always ready to retort at any quip he had. he could tell that these feelings he had for you were mutual, he was just so confused as to why you weren’t doing anything about it.

sukuna’s a thousand year old cursed spirit. he does not know shit about sexuality. i think the way he’d look at it is fuck who you want and fuck who you like. i feel like nicki minaj’s said that before, has she? he doesn’t like thinking too much about it, you know? 

his confession would probably be a kiss because words? he doesn’t know them. when he feels you return the kiss he’s, deep down, elated, really, and this is simply because of his naturally sexual personality, he starts hinting at more, until you stop him. he’s really confused because you just kissed him back? you’ve been kissing him for so long why do you want to stop now? he can see the fear steadily growing in your eyes and he’s even more confused now he’s just. humans are so weird. 

when you cautiously tell him, “i don’t want to go further than this. is that okay?” you look like you’re waiting for the world to erupt in your face. he just frowns and shrugs like, “yeah but that’s not the point. do you not want me?” 

it takes about an hour and a half for sukuna to properly process what you’re saying. at first he’s so thrown off by it, not by you! he just can’t process the fact that someone doesn’t feel any sexual attraction towards someone or doesn’t crave sex at all. it’s not that he’s rude about it, it’s just a really foreign concept to him, you know? when you add that it’s just sex, and you’re okay with a lot of other things, the gears in his brain finally start working again and he just goes. 

*shrugs* ok. 

literally lmao. like i said earlier, sukuna doesn’t give a shit like whatever do what you want. 

because of the rush of emotions he’s feeling towards you, and the fact that this in itself, a relationship, and a relationship with a human too, he doesn’t really focus on the fact that he might want more from you. he’s easily satisfied with a lengthy make out session, and he admits it to you every time he sees you get a little anxious or unsure of yourself. 

however, his needs do grow with your relationship. it’s kind of clumsy, your transition into a proper long term relationship, especially with sukuna, but you two make it work. 

you agree to try different ways to pleasure him, even if he kinda rushes through them because he’s generally just excited to have your hands on him. at first he’s content with anything you’re offering, but it makes him feel kinda useless when you won’t let him touch you and you have to remind him that your needs are different than his and that you’re sated differently.

i see sukuna as a curious and experimental guy, so he would definitely let you use toys on him. nothing too extreme, because he still needs that sense of control, but you do use some toys like a fleshlight or a vibrator to rile him up. he likes using your hand too, because it’s always so soft against him and it feels a hundred times better than any toy. he learns not to overstep any boundaries though, and not to do anything that might make you uncomfortable even if it takes him a little longer. like i said, the whole idea is just different to him, so it takes him a while to understand, and he’s still learning as he goes!

he loves your make out sessions, especially after you establish your boundaries and your limits and what you’re willing to do for him. he absolutely adores leaving your skin a sky of blue, pink and purple it sends chills down his spine marking you like that. he’s always touching you all over, and just loves to grab and knead at your skin. 

in the proper long term, he doesn’t mind it at all tbh. the two of you develop a system, and he’s okay with it. the same way you would never cross his boundaries and force him to do anything he doesn’t want, he’d do for you too! it really never truly mattered, and it truly never will.

gojō satoru

different from sukuna, i think gojō would definitely be knowledgable about things like this. idk he just seems like the kind of guy that’s innately so aware of everything around him, and can read people exceptionally well.

he probably picked up on the fact that you weren’t comfortable with sex, or just didn’t experince sexual attraction, on his own, but never really brought it up because it was never his place. but the same way he picks up on that, he picks up on your obvious crush on him. he pays both details no specific attention until he starts to realize his own feelings for you, and begins on his subtle advances.

he tried to make his advances as sfw as possible, you know? just in case his suspicions were confirmed to be true. he was just extra flirty, sometimes touchy but never in an inappropriate way. very subtilely like always having your shoulders or knees touching or dusting of your jacket or feeding you a piece of his food. cute little things like that.

he gets super worried when he notices you start to distance yourself from him, because he can’t imagine what he might’ve did to push you away. he overthinks a little, worried that he overstepped his boundaries or made you uncomfortable in any way, but he isn’t afraid to approach you about it, to make sure he doesn’t repeat his mistakes, especially with someone like you, who he’s slowly growing more and more infatuated by. 

when you admit to him you’re asexual, he realizes he was right, but then he’s like, “and? did i do something?” and now it’s your turn to be confused because here you were worried about rejection but here he was worried about you? 

this specific incident is what makes you let loose and finally just freely admit your feelings for him. he’s ecstatic about it, seriously! all that’s on his mind is that he gets to go on a date with someone he really likes. sex is the last thing on his mind, and yeah, you’ll eventually have to talk about it, but not for now. it’s for later, when things get a little more serious. 

they do get serious, to both your delights, but the dreaded moment is approaching you. gojō definitely sits you down and says, “we’re only having this talk so i know never to do anything outside of your limits. everything about this relationship is 50/50, and i want to know ways to make you feel good, too.” 

please sir your hand in marriage.

i definitely believe gojō’s a kinky guy, and is more than willing to try out literally any sex toy you pull at him. genuinely, he’ll try anything you wanna try. if you ever offer a handjob, he’ll ask a million times over if you’re sure. usually, he likes to just do it himself, but have you there next to him. he won’t touch you, but your hands will be in his hair, and you’ll be kissing his neck, or just murmuring how much you love him in his ear, just spurring him on. he knows the last thing on your mind is anything sexual, but there’s just something about being under your watchful, almost bored gaze as he fucks himself.

anyways before i get too into it lmfao, he loves kissing you. loves loves loves it. not even full blown make out sessions, just gentle, serene kissing. he can kiss you for hours. 

he is also incredible at body worship and praise. paints your pretty collarbone pink and purple, whispers about how you’re perfect for him, describes all your features to you like poetry. he’s an incredible lover, really. nothing can make him fall out of love with you, absolutely nothing. 

[ellitx]

I know this is mostly a venti blog but will you write for albedo again? would love to see more of him with your writing.. oh also I hope this doesn't come off as pushy haha I was just wondering

I did made a snippet of another albedo x reader and the draft is sitting here for months now ajskks

It has 1.7k words and albedo still hasnt appeared yet orz so uhm, here ya go even tho its not yet finished im sorryy

This looks like aether x reader at the start

            The soft clouds of Mondstadt were a wonderful sight to see. Hues of white and blues scattered across the horizon, making it seem like a smudge of a paintbrush, beautifully painted on the canvas. 

            You were wandering at the town square of Mond, mindlessly checking the shops that will ever catch your interest. You passed by Marjorie’s souvenir shop, boring. Checking Timaeus’s alchemy, yeah you’ve already learned a lot, no need to go back there. 

            Unfortunately, there was none at all.

            A tired sigh slipped from your lips and furrowed your brows. There was nothing to do and you’ve already done all your tasks. Klee was still stuck in her confinement, so you can’t play with her today.

            What a bummer…

            Another sigh came and your stomach released a sound hungry grumbling. You squirmed and wrapped your arms around your waist to silence the noise. Walking around the town made you starve for sure. 

            You noticed a lot of people have been crowding at Sara’s restaurant. Was there an event or something? You shrugged your shoulders to brush those thoughts off, more focused on getting food than the commotion that is happening in front of you.

            “Excuse me—“

            “Please, traveler!! I’ll give you a meal for free!”

            Your brows raised in surprise seeing the Honorary Knight was here. “Ooh, free meal?! Traveler, say yes! Say yes!!” His floating companion, Paimon, exclaimed whilst floating around and wiggled her little legs in excitement. “F-fine… we can’t say no to a free food.”

            Aether placed his hand on his hair and ruffled it with a sigh of defeat. From the corner of his eyes, he saw you waving at him.

           “[Name]!” You approached them and gave a big grin. “Hey! Didn’t know you’re already back here in Mondstadt.”

            He chuckled and rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, we just recently arrived.” Before you could respond, Sara called out your name. “[Name]! Perfect timing, I also need your help.” 

            You tipped your head and hummed. “Sure. Is it another delivery?” The waitress shook her head and jutted her thumb behind her. “Lots of customers are coming and we need you two to give these orders on their table.”

            Your eye twitched and squinted at her in wariness. “I don’t mind but please don’t tell me I still have to wear that uniform.” 

            “Even though it’s a must, there's no need to. There's not enough time to change. Just give these meals to their respective tables.” She clasped her hands in front in a begging manner. Breathing in relief, you went to the counter to take the plates and set off to serve them.

            “You owe me a free Flaming Red Bolognese!” The outlander chuckled at your words and mimicked your action, ready to do the task.

            The duty actually went smoothly than you thought it would be. With Aether helping you out, it was fast and steady but with a few slips here and there. Just as you were already done, another pack of customers came rushing in.

            “Woah!! [Name] really is the waitress again in Good Hunter~!” 

            “Hey! First come, first serve!! And no skipping lines!”

            You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned your head. This is bad. Really bad.

            Your throat bobbed seeing lots of customers gathering in the diner. Then you slapped both sides of your to shake off the nervousness. Paimon glanced at you and floated over. “Woah, lots of people came. Shouldn’t you two handle it?”

            Aether seemed like he was about to pass out from exhaustion and hunger. “I…I just want something to eat…” Head clouded and hazy, he unknowingly grabbed the emergency ration by her legs and opened his mouth ready to take a bite to get rid of his starvation. It surprised her as she wriggled out from his grasp and stomped her foot in the air.

            “Get a hold of yourself! Sticky Honey Roast is almost there waiting for you!”

            “Huh?! Says the one who just floats around and does nothing to help!”

           This is going to be a long day.

  —

             “Good work, everyone!” Sara clapped and wiped her head to remove the sweat that was slipping on the side of her head. The waitress then put out a meat dish coated with sweet honey sauce. The fragrant of the freshly cooked dish wafted through their noses making them drool.

            “Finally!!” Aether cried and took a big munch of Good Hunter’s beloved dish. 

            “And here’s your Flaming Red Bolognese, [Name]. They’re freshly cooked, so eat it while it’s still hot.” She winked and gave you a fork. You thanked Sara and twirled the spaghetti with your fork, letting its long noodles snake around it.

            “Ah, by the way, I have another request for you.” You quirked a brow at her as you chew your food, signing her to continue. “A client asked me to prepare a banquet and since we’re currently low on staff, do you mind if you do the baking?”

            You grabbed a napkin and wiped the red stains on your lips. Her request made you raise a question though. Why you and not someone who’s good at baking? Well, you can bake too but at an approaching proficiency level only. 

            The first person who came to your mind was Noelle. She can do everything perfectly well with ease. However, she seems so busy lately, so asking her to do it will make you feel bad and you don’t want to add another task to her hands.

            And the other one is…

             I-I don’t know anyone else who can bake…! 

             You can also ask Aether but you don’t want to trouble him any further especially since he just arrived here. You've already lost count of how many sighs escaped from you. Well, it’s better to help a friend who’s in trouble than just leaving them there struggling.

            “Sure, but why me?” You asked. Her lips curved and grinned at you as her eyes gleamed like the stars at night. “Your Moon Pie was so heavenly! When I took a bite of it, all the taste came to me at once. And the meringue was perfect! Not too sweet and not too bland.”

            “I would do anything to have another plate of it…” She placed her hands on her cheeks as she whined, drooling just thinking about the said pastry. 

            “So what kind of pastries am I going to bake? I hope it’s not too many.”  Sara propped her elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “Just a cake that’s all.” She then waved her hand, motioning you to come closer.

            Aether looked at them who are whispering to each other. He saw your face turned beet red and before puffing up your cheeks and playfully slapping her arms. Whatever their chat was, he shouldn’t bother wanting to know it.

            Food is here. Food is free, must eat it. Yes, only these thoughts must be inside his head. He continued relishing the delicious meal with Paimon across gnawing the plate clean.

  —

             “Flour, check. Eggs, check. Milk, check. Now all I need is… strawberries!” You were currently shopping for ingredients in Blanche’s shop. Your eyes scanned the racks, looking for a pack of that delicate pink fruit. With the continuous search for the red fruit up and down the shop, you're starting to lose hope at no signs of sight of that sweet berry.

            Did they run out of stock?

            You went towards the shop owner and asked. Sadly, she said yes, much to your dismay. 

            “There might be fresh strawberries in Springvale. You should ask there. Or—” Blanche suddenly smirked, making you feel unease about what’s behind that mischievous smile of hers.

            “You could ask Albedo to grow one for you. He can easily grow out those with just his alchemic powers or something.” Huh, it can be. You closed your eyes and give a thought about it. 

            “Albedo? I mean yeah, but he’s busy right now.”

            “Eh? But he’s right behind you.”

            The mention of the said male standing behind you made you immediately whirled your head in excitement. You feel delighted knowing about it, but rather expecting to see his figure there, you see nothing. No one and not a thing was there. Only air greeted you. 

            The shopkeeper snorted and covered her mouth to hold her laughter as small tears started to create from the edge of her eyes. You can’t believe she just did that. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment that Blanche just tricked you into thinking the Chief Alchemist was really there.

            “S-sorry sorry.” She said in between her giggles and shook her hand. You grumbled and took out a pouch of mora to pay for the ingredients and shoving it into her hands.

            “Keep the change.”

            And with that, you marched your way off to Springvale with your face still flushed. Blanche looked over to the waitress of Good Hunter and gave her a thumbs up with that impish grin still glued to her face.

i have to cut it off here since its not finished yet. It’s just klee and reader are baking. idk what happened to my motivation in writing for albedo ;; but if you read the snippet you can get the whole idea of this oneshot

[muilkyu]

Cooking With Treasure

Genre:Fluff

Word Count: 1k (1490)

Warnings: None (as usual pure fluff)

This was requested a million years ago lol.

🐷 Hyunsuk

"The website says 4 eggs. Do we have eggs at home?" 

"We have a full carton of eggs." 

Hyunsuk checks the item off the list moving to the next, "It says we need breadcrumbs." 

"Plain or seasoned? Wait just breadcrumbs or panko specifically?" 

Hyunsuk is thrown off guard by the question he looks up from his phone head tilted, "There are different types?"

"Yes, there is. They all taste different too." 

"I officially give up. Here you take the list, I'm just gonna follow your lead."

Hyunsuk is actually pretty good a cooking 

So he agrees almost immediately to cook with you

Rather cook than eat out anyways 

Whenever you ask to cook with him he gets really excited asking if you need to run to the store or not

🐼 Jihoon

“More pepper in mine please?” you request. 

Wordlessly Jihoon pours a little more pepper into the egg mixture, “Is that enough?” 

“Yes thank you,” you chirp, turning back the strawberries for your fruit salad. “Since you don’t want a fruit salad do you want a smoothie?” 

“It’s okay you don’t have to make anything else.” 

You stop cutting to turn around, “It’s okay, it’s not much and you need more fruit in your diet.” 

“Hey, it’s too early in the morning to take jabs at me.”

You just laugh, “It is never too early to tease you. Now you know how your friends feel. Also your eggs are starting to burn.”

You are both great independent cookers

Both follow your own rhythm in the kitchen 

Loves bring a recipe to you that you can both try together 

🐯 Yoshi 

“The recipe says we need some brown sugar,” Yoshi reads from his phone.

“I have some at home. Those cookies I made a while ago needed some,” you tell him placing a carton of baking soda into the basket on his arm. 

“I never knew cookies required so many ingredients,” he says looking down at the basket that's filled to the top with ingredients. 

“Yeah, but that’s the fun part. We get to run around the kitchen trying to remember measurements and spilling flour all over the place.” 

“I have a feeling we are going to be cleaning dishes all night,” he says.

I feel like Yoshi would be fine in the kitchen 

Follows your lead though for sure 

Yoshi’s partner would totally be a baker (gut feeling idk)

Has his own apron that matches yours 

🐨 Junkyu

"Smell this and see if it's bad." 

Pushing away the bottle Junkyu is pushing towards your face you reply, "If you have to smell it to see if it's bad you shouldn't use it."

“Why do you want to cook anyways?”

You shrug crossing your arms leaning against the counter, “We always eat out. It's a nice change to our usually routine.” 

“I see, well if we want to cook anything we should head out to the market.” 

“Or we could head to my dorm because I have everything we need, but tomorrow we are going to clean out your fridge.” 

Junkyu groans, not liking the idea of cleaning, “Does it have to be tomorrow?” 

“Yes it does now come on I’m hungry.”

Junkyu doesn’t cook for himself 

All the food in his fridge is packed by his mom

Cooking with Junkyu goes south very quickly

1000% messes up measurements

You might have to start over a few times...

🐹 Mashiho

“Which plate should we use the pink ones or the green ones?” 

Turning around Mashi just shrugs, “You can choose.” 

“We’ll do the pink ones then they match the lemonade,” you decide, placing the pink plates down on the table. 

“Okay! Are you ready to eat?” he says, carefully he brings the pan over from the stove. You sit down capping your hands. “Dinner is served.” 

“Thank you so much for helping mte today.” 

Mashi shakes his head denying it all, “No thank you for letting me help you. Now let’s dig in.”

We all saw T-Map episode 34...he knows his way around the kitchen

Honesty cooking with Mashi is just full of giggles

Since you both know what you are doing no mistakes happen 

100% serves both of your plates

🦁 Jaehyuk

"How much of this?" 

"Half a cup. Stir it slowly," you instruct slowly pouring milk into the measuring cup.

He follows instructions slowly pouring in the milk, "Speed one or two?"

"One first and then two so it doesn't fly everywhere." 

Jae doesn't seem to have listened because he pushes the machine onto four. The milk goes flying everywhere, soaked all of his shirt and face. He scrambles to turn the machine off,while you just watch. 

When he gets the mixer off he looks up at you with milk and bits of flour falling from his face, "Oops."

He's excited about cooking together

Always follows instructions

Yet all seems to make mistakes 

The food still turns out amazing, but he's on cleaning duty after you finishing cooking

🤖 Asahi

"Let's just order some food." 

"That might be too expensive. We can just make something." 

"It'll take longer, we should just order." 

"There is a perfectly good kitchen right there," you point out, "Plus we shouldn't waste food."

He thinks for a bit before agreeing, "What are we gonna make?"

Asahi would rather order out than cook

You have to push him to cook

Definitely forgets to set the timer to check on the food

🦊 Yedam

"We should bake a cake." 

He looks up from his phone confused at the sudden proposal, "Tonight?" 

"Yes, I think we have all the ingredients." 

"Okay, what flavor?" 

You think for a second then reply, “Mhh, chocolate cake.”

Goes along with it

He's a little lost but he's good at following the recipe

The food always turns out fine with a few minor casualties 

🐰 Doyoung

"Let me help."

"No, I'm going to cook." 

He attempts to pick up the pasta sitting on the counter, but you slap his hand with the back of the spoon. 

"Please? I don't want you to make all of this alone." 

You glance down at the ingredients on the table, before agreeing, "You know it wouldn't hurt to have a little help."

Really wants to help you out 

He's really only in the way half the time but he really tires

You let him help out whenever he begs because you secretly like cooking with him

100% asks his mom to teach him how to cook because he wants to impress you

🐏 Haruto

"How much longer?" 

"I just put the pan on the stove." 

He plops down on the couch groaning, “Maybe we should just order some food.”

“Nope, I already started the noodles,” you reply, sitting down on the couch next to him. 

Haruto grabs a hold of you pulling you into his side, you giggle letting your head falling into his shoulder, “Thank you for cooking for us.” 

“Mh, and thank you for helping.”

Doesn’t offer to help because he is terrified of messing up your work

Always helps clean up

You always try to incorporate both of your cultures food into your cooking  

🐺 Jeongwoo

As soon as you open the door Jeongwoo is already pulling you into a hug. 

“I missed you so much.”

You slightly hug back pulling away, “You just saw me yesterday.”

Pouting he tries to pull you back into the hug. Successfully you dodge him trying to avoid letting the spoon in your hand get any sauce on you both. 

"Why are you staring at me?"

"What's behind your back?" he questions, extending his neck to look behind you. “A spoon.”

"It's nothing," you insist, trying to change the subject you push the spoon behind your back and invite him in, "Just take off your shoes and come inside." 

“Did you cook?”

You nod, “Just a little bit. I still have to make the rest of the salad and dressing though.”

“I can cut up the rest of the vegetables and you can finish up the dressing then.” He decides to slip off his shoes heading to the kitchen.

Always wants to help 

Usually clueless, but the food is never ruined 

Doesn't really care for cooking himself but finds it more exciting when it's with you

🐮 Junghwan

"Are you sure this is correct?" 

"I've done this a million times." 

“I don’t think we put enough milk,” you say looking down at the recipe. 

Junghwan stops stirring to look at the red clumpy in the bowl. “Just give it a few more minutes.”

“It’s already been 15 minutes,” you remind him. “We should add some more milk.”

"Just a few more minutes I promise it will come together."

Takes the lead

He insists what recipe you should make, but adds his own twists 

Cooking together either turns out amazing or at the end the night you end up having to order food

Thank you so much for reading!

Also this was a request from months ago I don’t even have the original request anymore.

I am trying out the ‘keep reading’ feature so my blog so it doesn’t take forever to scroll lol. I don’t know how I feel about it yet, but let’s just give it a try.

Requests closed. 

[masonscig]

i like it when you sleep

pairing | mason x sofía

word count | 2.2k

warnings | mention of anxiety, and general murphy nightmares. shameless smut. minors dni

author’s note | had an idea last night and was possessed by some kinda writing gods so here u go! my prompt fill for day five of hot in wayhaven, temperature. this is set sometime in the future where they’re not official and not living together, but they’re a lot more comfortable w each other – idk what book they’re gonna get together so have this vague scene mwah (i have not proofread this so enjoy the mess) also THIS TITLE IS SO LAST MINUTE SJDFJKKDFJ bc of that one song by the 1975 with a full sentence title that is v them 

•─────────────────•

She hasn’t had vivid dreams in a long time, and she’s not sure if she likes it that way or not.

Her dreams are just vague sensations with colors and shapes that never fully form, sometimes comforting ones that guide her through the night till she naturally wakes.

Other times, the creeping anxiety’s broken her into a cold sweat till she jumps awake, left with the distant feeling of Murphy’s fangs deep in her throat, her scar throbbing, the skin there hot.

Tonight’s one of those nights where she’s already woken up panting after outrunning something without a face or distinct features.

The room’s stifling already, but the air conditioning is on full blast. The old system isn’t nearly strong enough to cool down the apartment to her liking.

She shifts under the sheets again, trying to find a cool patch on the bed.

Can’t get comfortable. Can’t cool down. Can’t sleep.

She rolls onto her back, tracing lines from bump to bump on the popcorn ceiling. Her eyes are dried and each blink is scratchier than the last. Her lids are heavy, but her brain’s fighting sleep.

Mason’s next to her, arms folded behind his head, face gentle – his snores are soft and followed by sighs. He’s at his most peaceful like this.

Grabbing the cup of ice water from her nightstand, she takes a few refreshing gulps, tracing her fingers through the condensation on the outside of it, before tapping her cold fingertips to her cheeks.

There’s not much she can do besides lie there until her brain stops working overtime. Maybe then she’ll slip into the dreamless sleep she so desperately wants.

“Sofía?” He rasps groggily, his voice crackling.

It still gets her when he uses her name so casually.

“I can’t sleep,” she smiles weakly, making no move to curl up to his side.

“Didn’t you take some of that sleep shit before you laid down?” He asks, peering at her through a squinted eye, the other one squeezed shut.

It’s true she’s relied on sleep aids for a long time – but something about this summer’s made her immune to them. The drops she puts in the glass of water she chugs before bed are completely ineffective.

“I guess they just stopped working.”

Mason frowns, kicking the sheets off his legs. He’s wearing the soft shorts she bought him, the ones she picked because she knew the fabric wouldn’t make him want to claw his skin off.

“Did I wake you up?” She asks, rolling onto her side. She shakes her bangs away, brows furrowed.

He shrugs. “Not your fault. It doesn’t take much to get me up anyway.”

“It was the fucking water… I was drinking too loudly,” she murmurs, propping her head up with one hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I’ve got my fill. I’m rested.” A soft smile tugs at one side of his mouth. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“You’re always welcome here. You know that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t say thanks often, and when I do it goes unnoticed.” He stretches, the taut muscle rolling beneath his freckled skin.

Her eyes widen. “Oh wow, you really did. Four leaf clover moment.”

He shifts so that he’s on his side, too, inches away from her. “Nothin’ lucky about me.”

“Now’s the part where you say ‘I’m lucky to know you, Sofía’,” she jokes, squishing his cheeks together with her free hand, his brow quirked while she’s tugging his jaw open and closed.

“That’s a given, sweetheart.”

Closing the gap between them with a grin, she presses a kiss to his parted lips, giggling when he darts his tongue out to lick her.

“You’re so annoying,” she laughs, trying to roll away from him, but he just wraps his arms around her, nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Don’t I know it.”

They spoon for a little while (she’s not sure how long), the ceiling fan whirring above them, the grasshoppers chirping relentlessly outside of her window.

The sweat’s still coming, even more so now that she’s cuddled up to him.

She tries and fails to reach her phone that’s on the other side of the nightstand, so Mason leans forward to tap her dark screen. The time is in big bold letters at the top of the screen, and despite her reading it four or five times just to be sure, it doesn’t change.

“I’ve gotta be up in a couple hours anyways,” she sighs, fully planning on brewing a pot of coffee and inhaling it throughout the entire day. “Might as well get up and finish the book I was reading.”

“How many hours?” He asks against her neck, kissing the scar there to punctuate his question.

“Three, I think.”

“You can fit a good nap in right after,” he chuckles, still buried in the dark sea of her hair between them.

“After what?” She asks, but it comes out more of a sigh when he suckles and nips her shoulder.

“After I fuck you senseless.” Her stomach flutters, her thighs clenching. He doesn’t beat around the bush, that’s for sure.

“Mason, you don’t have to, really. I’m a big girl – I can handle being tired for a day.”

“You’ve gotta patrol tomorrow, right?” His lips are pressed against her ear now, and his hands are splaying across her stomach.

He’s right. Tina’s cousin is visiting from out of town, so she jumped at the chance to relieve her for the night. Should be a huge regret, honestly, but she can’t bring herself to feel that way.

She sucks in a breath when his fingers inch past the waistband of her shorts, past the elastic of her underwear, past the trimmed hair above her folds, settling there with a slow swirl of his middle finger.

“Yeah, I do,” she’s already panting like a fucking fool – she can’t help what he does to her, though.

No one’s touch has ever made her feel this way.

“Gotta be well rested to protect the town.”

“Mhmm,” she agrees, groaning low when he adds two more fingers and picks up speed, rubbing her off at a furious pace.

She should be embarrassed by how fast he makes her come, but considering orgasms with Bobby were few and far between, she’s greedy with them now.

Once she got a taste of being thoroughly fucked and pleasured, she became shameless in collecting them from Mason.

Sucking her earlobe into his mouth, he nibbles the soft skin with a soft pant of his own. Her hand’s on his cock already, palming him through the thin fabric.

He slows his hand, setting an agonizing pace this time, and she’s rolling her hips to try and climax, but it isn’t working.

“Mason, please –”

“Begging already? We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he breathes into her ear, pulling his hand from her shorts and bringing it to his mouth, sucking his glistening fingers over her shoulder.

She whines, barely able to see his tongue dart in between his fingers from her peripheral. “I wanted to come –”

“Impatient ass. You will soon enough,” he smiles into her shoulder, kissing the freckled skin there this time.

She feels the warmth of his hand between her legs, and she’s expecting them to sink into her, but instead he’s hastily tugging her shorts and underwear to the side, hiking her leg in the air.

The fabric rips, and he’s got the audacity to chuckle like he didn’t just ruin her favorite pajama bottoms.

“Hey, those are my favorite –” she barely finishes her sentence when he teases her with his tip, running it up and down her heat.

His hand’s holding up her leg from the knee when he pushes into her.

The sweat rolls down the small of her back – the heat had become an afterthought the second he touched her cunt.

He circles his free arm around her waist, tugging her back till they’re skin to skin.

His hips begin to roll, stroking in and out rhythmically, and all she can do is lie there slack-jawed.

“Oh fuck, that’s so good.” She’s praising him in his favorite way – complimenting him through the pleasure – and that always excites and motivates him.

“Yeah? You like when I fuck you like this? Tell me,” he huffs shakily while he tries to keep his voice even.

She knows she’s got just as equal of a grip on him as he has on her. He’s begrudgingly admitted in the afterglow that he’s never fucked like this before, with both lust and affection intermingling.

“Yes, yes, please, just like that,” she chants, eyelids fluttering shut when his hips snap harder and harder, his arm tightening around her waist.

She digs her fingernails into his arm to anchor herself while he fucks her relentlessly, and he grunts into her ear when she starts bucking her hips, fucking him back.

Her sleeping shirt’s almost completely damp on the back, and it’s gross. Thankfully, they’re in sync, so he helps her slip it over her head, immediately cupping her tits and toying with her nipples.

He’s still fucking her like their lives depend on it, and he’s pressing hot, wet kisses to her back, shoulders, neck… and tweaking her nipples with an expert hand… 

It’s too much, and she’s overstimulated, clenching around him. “Shit, oh my god –”

With a quick maneuver, he’s tugged her underneath him, flat on her stomach, and rolls his hips into her steadily.

She’s open mouthed moaning into the pillow and he’s hitting all the right spots with the new angle and she’s clenching her legs so she feels tighter –

He’s singing his praises above her, shifting till he’s on his elbows on top of her, not a breath of space between them. The cool surface of his crystal necklace skims her back, raising goosebumps on her arms. 

He’s pressing the weight of his chest onto her back, sinking her further into the pillows.

He’s everywhere.

He’s all she can hear. All she can feel.

Any coherent thought of the long patrol and her uneasy dreams are long gone, and there’s him. Only him.

“You’re so good for me, sweetheart. Get your face out of that pillow. Let me hear you.” She’s already putty in his hands, nodding along to whatever he gravels in her ear, so she obliges.

The noises she’s making aren’t flattering in the slightest. They’re an awful mixture of whines and groans, the cadence of them matching the slap of his hips against her ass.

“Fuck,” he huffs as she raises her hips to meet him, lifting them barely an inch or two off the bed.

If her sounds are getting him off, then his are sending her into another realm.

There’s something practically indescribable about getting another person off without trying to. Mason’s probably felt this high a million times in his existence, but it’s new to her.

With a few swivels of her hips, she’s got him just as worked up as her, and he lets her know.

“God, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous – so fuckin’ tight around me. Your cunt’s perfect for me, Sofía, oh my god,” he pants into her hair, gathering it in one hand at the nape of her neck.

He gently tugs her head to the side so he can kiss her, her eyes are already fluttering shut, her mouth parted as she’s nearing her high.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he murmurs, still watching her profile while she concentrates on the orgasm on the horizon.

“Just – fuck me like that – a little harder – and talk to me –” she manages a few broken demands.

“You’re doing so well taking my cock like that – can’t wait to feel you squeeze around me when you come,” he pants, curling his hips so he’s deeper in her, and she all but cries out, slapping a hand over her mouth.

“No, no, let me hear you – wanna see your pretty lips when you say my name –” his hips are stuttering. He’s close.

Thankfully, she gets there first, calling out his name, clenching her thighs to ride it out while he still pumps in and out of her erratically. He’s not far behind her.

When he comes in her, he groans this whiny groan like he’s the one being fucked into oblivion.

He slides out of her gently before plopping onto the bed next to her, tugging her to his side.

“I don’t know if I’ll wake up in 2 hours like I’m supposed to,” she murmurs, eyes heavy and half lidded from getting her back blown out in the dead of night.

“So I did a good job then?” He smirks, pressing a kiss to her sweaty bangs.

“A perfect job. You should just recreate this every time,” she sighs, pressing a kiss to the skin nearest to her, right on his outer chest.

“You’re asking me to fuck you like that every night? Don’t know if I can recreate it perfectly, but I’m up for the challenge,” he laughs, running a palm down her side.

She can’t remember what she says after that, as she’s fallen asleep topless, sweaty, and in ripped pants almost instantly.

He stays – watches her as she sleeps this time. And he thinks that she’s the most peaceful he’s ever seen her.

[puppetsoftomorrow]

the avalance news reader au

hey who said peer pressure doesn't work. anyway i made this post and y'all seemed to like it so here we go!! might post to ao3 later on idk...

It had been a truly terrible day.

Ava considered, in the moment that her coffee machine spluttered coughed up coffee grounds over her last clean shirt, that maybe she'd just had a truly terrible year. All her dreams about finally moving to television after being stuck in the doldrums of local news media for six years had been slashed when she'd been placed on the graveyard shift - sure, Ava was finally reading the news, but her shift was from 1AM until 4AM, so her only audience was long-distance truck drivers and new parents.

Still, she persevered, with the slightly foolish belief that if she worked hard enough, she could be promoted to a primetime slot. Or at least a slot that didn't require her to be making coffee at 10:45PM.

Her day had started off badly - she'd barely slept, as the sound from the construction work three blocks away rattled her windows, and she’d woken to find that her cat, Merlin, had kicked his litter halfway across the house in a fit of pique. Ava couldn't even have her normal oatmeal, as she was out of oat milk, and now she was having to drink her coffee black.

After changing her shirt to a dark dress and grimacing as she choked down the coffee, there was a knock on the door, and Ava groaned as she realised she was running late.

"Hey, Sara." She sighed.

Sara stood in the doorway, hair wavy over her shoulders, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie - the same grey hoodie she wore every day, branded with their news station's logo.

"Woah, a dress?" Sara said, eyebrows raised appreciatively, as Ava grabbed her coat and bag and they moved to go down the stairs.

"Don't mention it." Ava grumbled, pulling the coat around her shoulders.

"It looks good on you." Sara said, and Ava shot her a look. Sara mimed zipping her lips. "Do we have to time for Starbucks? I had to have black coffee; my mouth tastes like something died in it." Ava muttered, and Sara shrugged.

"I mean, we've arrived half an hour early for every shift for the past year -"

"Do you want to go back to taking the bus?" Ava said, looking over at her as they reached the lobby. They'd discovered they lived in the same building almost accidentally in Ava's first week, awkwardly meeting across the hall in the early morning, until Sara had realised that Ava had a car and they'd started riding in together.

"Fine, if you're happy with having bad angles." Sara said, holding the door open for her, and Ava rolled her eyes.

"Are you saying I have bad angles?"

"Oh, I'll find one." Sara muttered, and Ava snorted with laughter and unlocked the car. One of the benefits to giving her camera operator a ride every day was always having excellent angles.

After a stop at Starbucks, Ava rolled along the dark, quiet roads, sighing deeply.

"What's up?" Sara asked, sipping her drink - black coffee, which she somehow enjoyed.

"Nothing." Ava muttered, but it only took one look at Sara for her to come out with the story of her crappy day. Sara laughed.

"So that's why you're wearing the dress."

"That's what you're focusing on?" Ava said, focusing on the road with a small smile on her face. "I have to go back to my apartment at 5AM and clean up kitty litter and coffee grounds."

"Not to mention getting coffee out of your shirt." Sara snorted, and Ava groaned, loud and over the top.

///

They always split when they got to the studio, Ava marching off to make-up to get ready, and Sara taking the elevator to the studio floor to set up her camera. The studio was always dead past midnight, just a skeleton crew left, which Sara found she enjoyed - it was easier to know everyone that way. She waved at Nate, distracting him from where he was running through the weather, muttering under his breath and checking his perfectly coiffed hair in the camera. He waved back, a bright smile on his face.

Careful not to trip over any of the wires on the floor, Sara made her way up to the box above the studio, the cramped room filled from head to toe with blinking lights and buttons, with a large window so they could look down on the studio. The techs – Behrad and Charlie - were sat with headphones on, running through sound checks, so Sara just waved to them as she found who she was looking for.

Zari, the studio runner, was running through her clipboard, muttering under her breath. When she saw Sara coming, she rolled her eyes. "Back again?"

"What have you got for her today?" Sara asked, keeping her voice nonchalant.

"The usual. Some city councilor has been embezzling funds, Star City is readying to bid for the 2028 Olympics, and former mayor Queen is opening a patisserie down-town. It's been a quiet week."

"Exactly." Sara said, her grin widening. "You've got to add the cat one."

Ray, their head writer, had found a story a week ago about a fat cat attending the Star City pet spa to lose weight, and Sara had been tracking down clips of the poor thing, bribing the editor, Nora, to pull them together. She'd even written a script. Zari looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! I have a bet going with Mick - if I can get Ava to break on camera by the end of the month, he's got to give me $50." Sara said. It was ridiculous, she'd started the bet - truthfully, she found it endearing how Ava read the news with the same abject sternness whether she was covering a political scandal or a dog who'd learnt to surf in Star City Bay. She'd only broken her composure once - a smile creeping on her face when reporting on the 5th birthday of a crocodile at Star City Zoo named Snaps. From that day on, Sara had vowed to make her laugh, properly, live on air.

"I don't have any time to make up." Zari said, and Sara sighed.

"Yeah, but you know Ava reads quick enough. Please? For me?"

Zari seemed immune to the puppy eyes, so Sara sighed. "And I'll give you $20."

Zari snorted. "Do you have $20?"

"I'll have $50 when I win the bet." Sara countered, and Zari sighed.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Z, you're the best." Sara said with a grin, and turned to return to the studio floor.

///

The program went smoothly, like always. Sara liked her job, the focus of filming and the pride she got when she saw her own work on TV, but she liked it better when she was filming Ava, who had pretty much insisted from day one that Sara be her primary operator.

Ava looked especially pretty today, someone in make-up evidently having convinced her that she didn't need the bun today, and instead curled her hair over both shoulders, which didn't completely cover Ava's defined arms, visible in her sleeveless dress.

The night ran the same as most others, Ava transitioning smoothly between topics and engaging in light, courteous banter with Nate before he presented the weather. Sara looked at Ava during these moments, the five minutes she was off camera, where she looked down at her notes, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Okay, so maybe Sara wanted to make Ava laugh because she looked so pretty doing it. Sue her.

They were coming near the end, and Sara was losing hope that the story would be included, until she heard the segue.

"Now, in lighter news," Ava started, her eyebrows suddenly shooting up as she read the prompter. Sara grinned; Zari had obviously left this out of Ava's notes to inspire more of a reaction.

"Cats," Ava blurted out, steadying herself before continuing, "they're not normally known for their love of swimming, but one feline in Star City is hitting the water instead of the gym in a bid to lose weight. Mr. Snuggles -" Ava bit her lip as the pictures played on the monitor - a black and white cat in a life vest, looking absolutely terrified, and Sara grinned. "Mr. Snuggles is a thirteen-year-old cat who - dislikes the outdoors and other physical activities."

Sara's grin widened as Ava lost it, barely making it through her lines through her giggles. Her face was flushing pink and she bit her lip to try and compose herself. "But with encouragement from his owner -" Ava pressed on, trying to hold herself together, "Mr. Snuggles had lost one pound in six months."

That was the final straw, as Ava descended into a full-on laugh, barely making it through her sign off. Sara was so distracted by the sound she nearly missed Zari's voice in her ear. "Camera 1 to Camera 3 in 3, 2, 1 -"

Sara switched off, but not before Ava snorted, flushing even deeper and covering her face with her hands at the sound, not disguised by the jingle from the lottery numbers playing across the screen.

///

Ava had bolted from the set, and Sara packed up her equipment as quickly as possible, ducking out just in time to catch Ava as she walked down the corridor to the lobby. Her face was now free of make-up, her hair tied up in a messy bun, but she was still in the dress that left Sara's mouth a little dry. She looked at Sara, blushing again.

"I can't believe you did that." She groaned, and Sara put on her most innocent face on.

"Did what?"

"Bribed Zari to put the cat story in! John in make-up said that Charlie had told him that you'd bribed Zari."

"To win $50!" Sara said, grinning. "And you have a really cute laugh."

Ava looked up; eyebrow furrowed. "Really?"

"Yep." Sara said, trying to play it cool. "Look, do you want half? I feel bad now."

Ava sighed. "No, it's okay."

"I could buy you dinner." Sara said, almost blurting it out, and Ava looked at her. "To make up for it."

Ava's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Uh - yeah, okay. I can do dinner."

~the end~

okay so this was fun to write and i kind of want to write more so uhh send me where u think this story should go. or ideas for a part 2 maybe. thanks for reading!!

[ellewords]

At Osamu’s wedding, no one can really figure out why Atsumu is being so distant. It’s his brother’s big day! He should be celebrating, living it up, having a great time! Instead, he keeps mostly to himself before the ceremony, only returning to the group to calm ‘Samu down when he has a bit of a freak out because a few more people than expected showed up and they aren’t sure if they’ll have enough food for everyone (they manage just fine, but not without a lot of grumbling). The rest of the time before the wedding starts, ‘Tsumu stays away as much as possible going over his best man speech. During the ceremony, he manages to keep up a happy air because he is happy, he is. He’s just also feeling a little off.

During the reception, Atsumu gives an absolutely stunning speech. It has the crowd in tears and laughter, Osamu’s partner looks like they might start crying happy tears, and Osamu himself looks really touched at the entire thing. He had thought Atsumu was opposed to the entire wedding because of how he was acting earlier, but now he can see that Atsumu is happy for them, sincerely, genuinely, so happy for them. There’s only one line at the very end, something about Osamu moving on, that strikes a bit of a cord for the people that really know Atsumu, but it’s just vague enough that no one else can tell if it’s a throw-away line or if it has his entire heart on display. Osamu gives him a strange look, like he can tell what it really meant, but he says nothing.

After his speech, Atsumu spends a bit of his time getting congratulated and praised for his speech by the wedding party, and then by the crowd as he slowly makes his way out to a secluded corner outside. He stares at the moon and the stars for a few minutes before his walls finally crumble. He doesn’t cry, but he looks like he’s about to at any given second, eyes shining with unshed tears, cheeks red, trembling lips, deep, uneven breaths leaving his mouth.

It hadn’t hit him until earlier that morning that Osamu getting married meant a lot of things for the both of them. It meant ‘Samu was starting a new life. It meant ‘Tsumu had a new sibling-in-law. It meant they had a bigger family now... but it also meant that they were moving on. From the past, from each other. He’d gotten the same feeling when his brother had decided to stop playing volleyball all those years ago. Loneliness in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. It had taken him months after finding out for Atsumu to realize that just because they were apart didn’t mean that they were alone. They were still twins and they could still interact and clown each other and be just as close as they had been all their lives. They could still depend on each other even if they weren’t following the same path and around each other all the time. But this... this feels different. Osamu has someone new to depend on, now. Atsumu wouldn’t be his only crutch anymore. He’d realized that he never actually was Osamu’s only crutch, but Osamu was definitely his, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to lose that. But he wouldn’t say any of that out loud. He wasn’t that selfish.

Atsumu nearly shits himself when he realizes that Osamu has wandered out and is now standing beside him, eyes directed at the sky, knowing that Atsumu would hate to be seen like this. So he doesn’t look. Instead, he just stands there, a plate of food in one hand and a drink in the other. They don’t exchange any words; they just wait for Atsumu’s breathing to even out. Then, Osamu hands him the food and drink and sits next to him, still looking at the stars. Atsumu tries to urge him to go back inside, he’s the man of the hour after all, but Osamu just shrugs. It’s simple, and so Osamu, but it’s just enough that Atsumu knows what he means. He cries then, eating his food in hopes of smothering the sound, but Osamu doesn’t mind.

It looks like his crutch is sticking around longer than he thought.

— from elle ! okay anon, just...wow. i'm literally breathless just from reading this. the way you put emotion into words...just nothing short of amazing. and i can totally see it happening too which i guess makes it all the more heartbreaking? aaaah idk this just—- i love your take on their relationship so much. picking up where you left off for my quick little addition, all under the cut, and i focused it a bit more on samu since yours placed an emphasis on tsumu. and also bec you captured tsumu so perfectly that i don’t think i can add anything more hahaha thank you so so much for this anon and I hope you're having a wonderful day. <3

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

the loud music that played throughout the reception hall had been reduced to a dull thud, a distant melody that rung in osamu’s ears as his brother scarfed down the plate of food he had brought him. it started out as a single tear, that developed into two, and seconds later an entire stream had been running down atsumu’s face.

osamu didn’t know what he had been expecting when he wandered out into the cold night air, essentially throwing his spouse out all alone into the pushy aunts and uncles, all the relatives who wanted nothing more than to converse with them alone for just a few minutes.

“ 'm needed elsewhere.” he had explained, hoping that his partner would understand where he was coming from, why he had to step out for just a few minutes.

and lucky enough, his spouse did. they give him an encouraging smile, gaze scanning around the reception area for any sign of their new brother in law, only to be met with nothing. “go ahead, i'll hold things down for now.”

osamu watched as his brother practically demolish the plate of food, gulping down the drink alongside it in just a few minutes. it’s silent, probably the most silent things have been between them, save for atsumu’s occasional sniffles or the yelling from the reception. a more upbeat song had begun playing, the kind that raised one’s heartbeat and made it almost impossible not to move to the beat.

“you’re missin’ out on all the fun.” atsumu mumbled, wiping the corner of his lips with the sleeve of his shirt.

osamu’s nose crinkled at the sight, handing atsumu a tissue from his pocket, “i know, but it’s a nice time to be out, isn’t it?”

a cold breeze blew past the two of them, threading in between their hair, through the fabric of their button-ups, sending chills down their spines. he took a deep inhale, closing his eyes in an attempt to steady the beating of his heart. atsumu followed suit, trying to get himself to relax a bit more. osamu’s exhale was much shakier than atsumu’s had been. 

“things are different now, aren’t they?”

there was no need to answer the question, not with both of them having known the answer for quite some time now. things had been changing for years, with each day that passed, with the general passing of time. it had changed when osamu expressed no longer wanting to play volleyball, it had changed when atsumu began to play professionally, it had changed when osamu admitted to his brother that he planned on marrying his partner. the wedding itself wasn’t the sole catalyst of it all.

“they are. but is that so bad?”

osamu’s surprised, whipping his head towards atsumu’s so he now faced him. raising a brow, he gestured for his brother to continue.

atsumu smiled, small and somewhat wistful, as he stared out into the starless night sky, “we’re livin’ the lives meant for us, aren’t we? me with volleyball, you with onigiri miya. and yer married now too, and they’re fantastic. but i'll still have ya, and you’ll still have me.”

osamu nodded along, it was something that he had been thinking about for a while now, maybe since the day he stopped playing volleyball; the distance and difference in the lives that they wanted to live. 

but here atsumu was, on a grand spiel about change and constancy, how both could be things that coexisted, how the two of them were pretty much proof of that idea. 

osamu smiled, any ounce of doubt slowly disappearing. atsumu might still need him, but he needed him back just as much. and they’d be a constant in each other’s changing lives, whether they liked it or not. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what would the hq characters be like at a wedding?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[pomegranates-and-blood]

νοσταλγία (Chapter 21)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: The usual

A/N: Kay, so, idk. I hope you like this, and I would love to hear your thoughts on this! Thank you for reading, I love you all! <3

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless 

@1950schick​ (Idk if you wanna be tagged in this story, you said everything Vikings but idk if this counts. Lemme know if I shouldn’t add you to this list, thank you! <3)

You lay on the bed alone, covered in warm furs and unable to get your eyes off the chains that dangle over your head.

Why on earth are there chains hanging over the bed?

You shake those thoughts off, and turn on your side and, burrowed under the furs and trying to find warmth, you close your eyes and let yourself relax into sleep.

Gods, this land is cold. That is your first thought as you wake after what seems like a blink of your eyes but the now quiet main hall merely a couple of walls away says were at least a couple of hours.

Before letting your thoughts wander into the horrifying realization that it isn’t even winter yet and you feel like setting yourself on fire again might as well be an alternative to consider, you cautiously turn around and face the other side of the bed.

Empty.

With a frown, you sit up -and immediately regret it as the furs slip from your shoulders-, looking around the room.

“Ivar?” Once your eyes adjust to the dimmed fires around the room, you find him sitting in that same chair that he was in when you retired for bed. “Ivar, why didn’t you come to bed?”

In an almost immediate reaction to your words, Ivar shakes his head and frowns, what is sure to be a mix of disgust and anger written in his features.

“Don’t-…” He stops himself, not looking at you and choosing to refill his cup with mead as he asks instead, “What you said before. That you would have said yes.”

“What of it?”

He turns to look at you, to meet your eyes, for the first time since you woke up. You cannot make out much of him in the dim light, but through his voice alone you’d know he is serious, uncertain.

“What did you mean?”

Swallowing past a dry throat, you offer the truth,

“If you had asked me to come with you when you were to leave Aneridge, I would have said yes. I would have asked for you to guarantee the Greeks’ safety, but…I would have said yes,” You take a deep breath, and rush to continue even if he is only passively looking at you, not intending to interrupt or speak it seems, “When you brought me here at first, before anyone knew you planned on making me your wife, if you had let me be free and asked me to stay in Kattegat…I would have said yes. Even after everything, if you had asked me to be your wife, I-…

Your words die in a choked intake of breath, and you shake your head.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. You didn’t ask. You didn’t give me a choice.”

It doesn’t matter what the Völva said, because even if you now know that making a choice is, like she said, easy, and what is hard is facing what that choice we made says about us; none of it makes any difference now.

Because you didn’t make any choices, you didn’t choose anything. He didn’t let you.

Ivar breathes deeply, and you are startled to see his gaze fall from yours, his eyes that lower and focus on some far away spot on the ground before him.

But before long his nose curls in anger, his hand raises and he lifts a finger to you.

“This isn’t my fault, it’s yours.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I wanted you with me, and that Christian gave you up, I had every right to bring you here as a slave,” His hand drops to the armrest of the chair again, where he curls it into a fist. “But you-…you arrogant, insufferable woman, you hated me, you looked at me like-…”

“Did you think I’d thank you, Ivar?”

“I didn’t think you’d hate me,” He offers honestly, and the breath leaving your lungs in a stutter breath is all the answer you can give to the unevenness in his voice, to the vulnerability that shines in his eyes. “If I made you a free woman, I knew you’d run away.

For once you actually have no words, no idea on what to say. A part of you is still stubbornly and pridefully clinging to the outrageous idea that all of this is somehow your fault.

“But if I didn’t free you, you’d…what was it you said? You could never look at my with anything other than hate as long as I had you prisoner?” He turns his head to the side as his face twitches in anger. You don’t fail to notice even in his accented and foreign voice he still speaks differently, and a glance at the horn of mead still in his hand gives you an answer. You would have thought he’d be more explosive, not as…sulking. He returns his eyes to you, and insists, “It is your fault. If you hadn’t been so insufferable, I wouldn’t have had to make you my wife.”

“You chose that.” You remind him quietly.

“No, you made me!” He snaps, standing up with more difficulty than usual. He takes measured but wobbly steps towards you, but you hold your ground and meet his furious gaze. “I wanted you, but you weren’t you if I had you chained; and you would have left if I let you be free.”

“So you made me your wife.”

“You didn’t leave me any choice!” He snarls, and sits -falls- on the bed. He discards the crutch on the floor and with his free hand he reaches up and grabs at the back of your neck, but it is with surprising gentleness that he does. You could swear his eyes travel down to your lips as he whispers your name, making a thrill go down your spine. With the same hoarseness in his voice, he continues, “You forget you’ve chained me as much as you say I’ve chained you.”

Your eyes search his, and all you can offer him is a whisper, “What are we to do now, then?”

It seems he considers your question, but either doesn’t find an answer or isn’t willing to share it with you, for he lets go of you and with a grunt lets himself collapse on the bed on his back.

You carefully return to your previous position lying down on your side, and let time go by with you eyes slowly growing more and more heavy as the fire crackling and Ivar’s breathing lull you to safety.

Before you let yourself sleep, you whisper his name. A hum is his only answer, but at least you know he is still awake.

“I thought…you said you believed the Gods would reward you. That they fated me to be your wife.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t look at you.

“The Gods are not cruel. They wouldn’t reward me with a wife that can’t love me.”

Because you are nothing if not foolish and mad and hopeful, you whisper,

“You don’t believe I could love you?”

Ivar only huffs a bitter chuckle, and the defeat in the way he shrugs makes dread churn at your stomach.

“Who could?”

He settles against the pillow and closes his eyes once again, still on the armor-looking clothes from today, still with the braces -that you know by now are painful, not only looking the part- still on his legs.

But he seems to be willing to sleep that way, and you are not willing to risk your head being cut off for trying to get those contraptions off when he has snapped in anger for you merely looking at them.

So, you turn to lay back on your stomach, hugging the pillow underneath you, and you ask in a whisper,

“What is your Gods’ reward, then?”

He doesn’t open his eyes, and you can understand his answer because your foolish eyes are intent on his lips, and can read the words that leave them so quietly you can barely hear them,

“It’s still you.”

____

You wake when stray rays of sunlight start peeking into the room, and though you frown at whatever it is that woke you up, you soon realize it is the sound of metal hitting the ground, dull little thuds as Ivar takes off the braces in his legs.

He moves back the furs on the side he was occupying when you last fell asleep, and you groan at the frigid air that enters the warm cocoon you had for yourself under the covers.

You only groan, and hold on tight to the furs over your shoulders, sending him a glare when he turns to look at you in question as to why he can’t freely move the covers.

“I. Am. Cold.” You bite out, and even though you see the tiredness in his expression, more than one kind of exhaustion making not only his face but his whole body be coiled with a strange tension; Ivar smiles.

Faintly, almost against his own will, in a manner someone that didn’t know him would say is soft, gentle.

You offer a small smile in return, because your own lips betray you.

You notice he’s chewing on something as he settles on the bed, and with a strange warmth taking a hold of you it is that you realize is the piece of willow bark you left on his chest when -stubbornly, infuriatingly- he chose to sulk over the covers and with those painful contraptions still on his legs instead of going to sleep normally.

A foolish, stupid, part of you wants to know what he thinks, what his thoughts were when he woke up and found the same remedy for the pain you offered him once in Aneridge, when you were just a Priestess, and he was just this strange and fascinating Viking you would have followed to the end of the world, if only the two of you could find a way to remain just a Priestess and just a Viking.

But you don’t listen to that part of you, you don’t voice any questions. You just hum an agreement when Ivar murmurs that it is late -early- and you should continue sleeping.

When you wake up next, he is awake but still on his back, looking up at the ceiling. You turn and do the same, only to be faced once again with the chains that hang over his side of the bed.

You have half a mind to ask him what they are for, but the faint sounds of Kattegat waking up, of the world demanding you return your feet to the ground, make you realize what happened last night, yesterday as a whole.

You are married. You are now Queen of Kattegat.

A part of you mourns for a wedding that couldn’t be anymore, a wedding of happiness and free will and love; mourns for the life that could have been, mourns for the childish part of you that always thought marrying the one you want means the fight is over.

“We reached what was supposed to be the end, didn’t we?” You ask, hands folded over your stomach and looking up at the ceiling. He hums an affirmation, and you sigh, “Doesn’t feel like it, does it?”

“We can’t exactly start over, wife.”

You shake your head, and with the same amount of planning that took running towards that stream and jumping over it, with the same impulsivity and foolishness; you sit up and, folding your legs underneath you, you turn to him.

“I want to offer an arrangement.”

Ivar only considers you in silence before closing his eyes with a sigh, “You think you have the answers to everything, don’t you?”

You ignore his taunt, choosing instead to go ahead with your explanation.

“I made a promise. Not only to you, I made a promise before that,” He knows you mean your promise to have Stithulf die before you allow yourself to rest, you see it shining in his pale eyes. He says nothing, gives away nothing, yet you still continue, “That promise isn’t fulfilled. While he still lives, I have reasons to stay here.”

Ivar considers you in silence, a barely-there narrowing of his eyes the only tell before he asks,

“And when we kill him?”

Even when Stithulf is defeated, you know you’ll still have reasons to wish to stay. You know, but you cannot say it. You know the choices you would have made, but those choices don’t matter -and they don’t say anything about you, you tell yourself- for you didn’t make them.

What matters is the choice you would make once you are able to. Once Stithulf paid with his blood for the Greek blood he spilled, once your promises are fulfilled, you will, like Prince Ubbe said, have to make a choice.

You don’t know what the choice will be, because you don’t know who you’ll be once the Christian is dead at your feet, you don’t know how long it will be, how foolish and soft you’ll have allowed yourself to become, or how relentless on your pursuit of Attica you’ll be. Bu you need to know you’ll be able to make that choice.

That way, you’ll allow yourself to feel free here and now, you’ll allow yourself to be -if only for the time while the Saxon is hunted down and killed- as you were in Aneridge. Like you allowed yourself to pretend there was not a world past the door of that hut, you’ll allow yourself to pretend there’s not one past the walls of Kattegat.

They say power is not the same thing to everyone, and you find yourself agreeing. You feel powerful when you are free, when you can choose, when you have no binds. And you know, because you’ve come to know him in these past months, that Ivar feels powerful when he is control, in control over the kingdom and its wars, over himself, over what people say and think of him, control over you.

So you look into his eyes and continue, “I want you to make a promise. To honor the promise that you made in Dublin. Let me be free to choose. When Stithulf is defeated, when I have no promises to keep, let me choose.”

“Choose to leave me.”

“Choose to stay with you,” You retort as easily as he bitterly pointed out the other alternative. With your eyes searching his, you insist, “You don’t want a prisoner out of me, but I can’t be a wife if I can’t have it be my choice.”

And that is the question, is it not? Whether he is willing to rescind power to you in allowing you this freedom, the same way you rescind power to him in allowing him this control over you.

Whether whatever desire he has for you can surpass his desire for power.

Your mother’s words echo in your head, a painful reminder and the advice that makes a knot of dread clog your throat and a pit of grief -for the could be’s, the could have been’s, the hopes that can be crushed with but a word from Ivar’s lips- to form on your heart; “Never trust a man to choose you over anything, much less a man in power to choose you over the illusion of holding onto said power.”

Ivar’s jaw clenches, his eyes leave yours as his lips curve into a snarl.

“I don’t have a choice, you know that,” He sentences, and your lips part to let a shaky breath leave your lungs as you wait for him to continue. Looking back into your eyes, searching in the for something you don’t know if he can find, Ivar looks…uncertain, as if he stands as conflicted, as overwhelmed, as scared, as you. Finally, with but a twitch of anger in the angular face you’ve come to know so well, he states, “I agree.”

Your eyes fall closed as you breathe out a sigh, as your shoulders drop and a strange peace sets over you.

Sincerely, you offer, “Thank you.”

“One more thing,” Ivar calls out as you move to get out of bed, and you stop, bare feet on freezing ground. His eyes narrow slightly, his head tilts to the side, as if he is awaiting the chance to call you out on a lie as soon as the words leave his lips, “If Stithulf were to die today, what would you choose?”

You open your mouth, but close it again when no sound leaves your lips. Swallowing hard, you attempt,

“It is of no use to disc-…”

“I asked you a question. Answer me.” He demands, expression hardened as he raises his chin and squares his shoulders.

You meet his demanding gaze with your own, taking a deep breath.

“I would leave.”

He accepts your words with a hard nod, a moment where his eyes seem to want to lower from yours that tells you maybe, deep down, he expected a different answer.

But you know he tries to not give anything away, even if the underlying rage that simmers under the surface as he speaks next does,

“Tonight we’ll discuss what the scouts found on Stithulf’s movements. It is in your best interest to be there.”

The King dismisses you with a gesture of his hand, and you bow your head and take your leave.

____

So, that night you do as you were told and follow familiar paths to the room where his brothers await. You curl yourself into a ball in one of the softer chairs and watch the Vikings debate. Night is close to being over and the brothers still argue of battle. A thought of the rams in your homeland bashing their heads together for hours on end is brought forth in your mind, and you have to stifle a laugh behind the goblet you take a drink from.

“The warriors are tired and we lost too many, Ivar. Going after them now is a stalemate at best. Both your people and mine will resist.” Prince Ubbe insists, eyes firm and yet beseeching as they search his brother’s.

But the Viking King doesn’t give an inch, arguing with the tone of a man that refuses to even offer the possibility of losing a semblance of anything he deems his. In this case, power, his city, his army, whatever it is that seems to drive such a hard division between the two brothers.

“I don’t care if they resist, I am King, they are to follow my commands!”

Hvitserk stands up, standing next to Ubbe and narrowing his eyes, “You talk like a tyrant, brother.”

You watch from your seat as the King’s shoulders rise swiftly with a quick intake of breath born of anger, of fury.

“As King,” The Viking starts, and now it is, without a doubt, a jab at his brothers to recognize his authority, even if his next words carry responsibility, truth, “It is my duty to keep our people safe. They will not be safe while we have a nearby city willing to support the Saxon army that threatens our borders!”

You have a feeling the more they argue with him, the more stubborn he will remain on his stance.

Before he can speak, though, you try your best to avoid unnecessary death.

“If I may.” You try, keeping your eyes on King Ivar. He motions with his hand, impatient.

“Speak, wife. That’s what I want you here for.”

“Right now the Saxons are more than vulnerable.” You quip. Your stomach turns into knots when so many pairs of eyes settle on you.

“Exactly.” The King grits out, but you shake your head.

“I am not agreeing with you,” You are quick to retort, feigning courage when you walk up to the table, “What I told you, it proved to be right when you reached Dublin, did it not? Stithulf doesn’t care about the numbers in your army, he cares about revenge on you and your brothers. He will not move if he’s being scouted, because he does not care about hurting your army, he cares about returning with enough strength to get close to the sons of Ragnar and avenge his King.”

“If we can lure him into moving, we intercept them when there’s little chance an ambush awaits us.” Hvitserk agrees, his eyes on yours for a second longer than normal, you think relaying a silent message you cannot understand.

But Ivar doesn’t acknowledge his brother, keeping pale eyes on you. You offer him a small smile, even as his lips press into a thin line in annoyance.

“You wanted me here, Viking.”

Ivar shakes his head, “I’m not regretting it,” He promises, before turning to his brother and stating, “We dim their numbers while they are on the move, and we can buy ourselves time to take that fucking town before they can set foot on it. I will find a way to smoke him out of hiding.”

Conversation regarding Prince Ubbe’s desire to send settlers somewhere further North soon starts, and the revenge, both yours and Ivar’s it seems, for very different reasons, against Stithulf and his men is forgotten for a while.

After a while, you lay a hand on Ivar’s shoulder to call for his attention, and whisper that you’ll be retiring for bed. He considers you in silence for a moment or two, his pale eyes searching yours, before he nods and returns tired eyes to the men before him.

You say your goodbyes to the people in the table to then stand up from your seat and motion for Whitehair that you are retiring to your quarters.

As you walk away, a figure by the doorway stops you with a murmur of your name, and you turn to find Prince Hvitserk offering you a smile. He dismisses the white-haired man with firm words, and although the older man hesitates, he returns inside and lets the Prince escort you to your rooms instead.

The Prince offers you his arm with a flourish that makes you laugh, and you take it, walking slowly in the late night.

“So, turns out you are no guileless prisoner, witch.” Hvitserk says with a chuckle, and you answer with a shrug.

You clean the blood off your hands and arms on the ceramic pot offered by one of the slaves, and tell him quietly that he is dismissed to go rest. After all, they have spent as many countless hours as you and the other healers trying to keep as many men alive as possible.

“How are you feeling, little one?” Sieghild asks as she motions for the place by the entrance of the tent where you agree to take a seat.

“Tired,” You mutter, rolling your neck to relieve the tension and feeling your skin tacky where a soldier grabbed onto the back of your neck with a bloodied hand as he sought relief from the pain. With a grimace, you add, “Sticky.”

The Varangian chuckles, and passes you a wet rag to clean yourself further. You do so, feeling her always-probing green eyes on you.

“Why did they lose?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Why did the Abbasids lose today?” She grabs a small stick from a pile by the fire, and tosses it to you. The gesture is so familiar and so much of a routine by now that you only laugh and start mapping out the battlefield on the sand.

“I was taught well.” You offer in response. He answers with an affirmative hum.

It is only after a while of silence that you hear him speak again, “I told you Ivar listened to you.”

“What I know is useful,” You answer simply, “I know how Stithulf acts. He is also allied with Arabs, whose ways of war I know. Your brother is not blind enough to ignore my advice.”

A chuckle answers to your words, but you don’t think Hvitserk means it as an offense, so you say nothing as you approach your door. When you reach it, you let go of his arm and murmur your goodnight to the Prince. He leans closer, towering over you as he says lowly, just for you to hear,

“Ivar is very blind when it comes to you, just not in this matter.” Hvitserk promises, granting you a smile of goodbye as he leaves you at your door.

____

So, Ivar refuses to take responsibility for the shit he did, I hope that doesn’t surprise you lol. Between you and me, I headcanon (tho this is my story, so it is basically canon) that a part of him, however irrational or small, believed to some degree what the reader talks about here: that once you marry the one you wanted/loved, the story was done, the war was won. That didn’t work out how he expected it to tho, did it?

Anyhow, thank you so much for reading, I truly appreciate all of you, you have no idea how important you are to keeping me inspired and writing and motivated. Thank you. <3

[samanthadalton]

Hey! Do you think you could write an avaxmc fic that’s today’s chapter (81) of mtfl but from mack’s pov? Like a rewrite, with more gayness and no boys? Maybe have mack see them at some point, or find them sleeping together the morning after? Idk it’s just an idea and ofc it’s ok if u don’t wanna do it, just thought i’d ask

i loved this idea anon, idk if its super gay but I tried writing it from what i think Mack would be like, i hope you enjoy tho ❤️❤️

(also ive been so busy this week, i hope to do some writing for star crossed lovers next week as well as some more requests💖) 

taglist: @cloud9in @midnitesteph @kamilahsayeet2063 @dopeyouth @avalawrencefl @alleycat97 (i added people from my other ava fic and people who might like the fic) 

The tales of the sister 

Now playing as Mack

I know something has been going on between Emma and Ava since we’ve come back from Jenning’s lodge but I don’t know exactly what. I scrutinise Emma as she fluffs the pillows for the 100th time tonight before taking out her phone to check her makeup...again.

“Chill Emma, it’s only Ava” I add a tiny dose of teasing to my voice, while Emma’s cheeks begin dusting with a tiny bit of red on them before she pointedly looks away. 

“Everything just has to be perfect,” her eyes scan the living before she moves the tv remote an inch to the left before placing her hands on her hips, satisfied. 

“Why?” I raise an eyebrow at her, trying to get any crumb of information since Emma and Ava used to always leave me out of the big girl gossip. 

Emma freezes for a split second before her eyebrows furrowed together in contemplation, “I don’t know, it just has to be.” 

I nonchalantly shrug my shoulders and sit on the couch before grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it into my mouth. Emma swats at my arm, “Mack! Don’t make a mess!” 

“Whuh- iuts pouhpcourn” I retort, my mouth still filled with popcorn as Emma begins stress cleaning around me until the doorbell suddenly rings and she stands up straight so quickly before plastering a wide smile on her face. Just before she opens the door, she throws a warning look at me over her shoulder. 

“Ava!” Ava squeals and tackles Emma into a huge bear hug while Emma just giggles like a schoolgirl, yuck. 

“Hey, hey, let me say hi to Ava.” I see Emma shooting daggers at me in my peripheral vision but I ignore her as I give Ava a quick hello hug before settling back into my seat on the couch. “So” I take another handful of popcorn but before I can throw it all into my mouth, Emma glares at me, her eyes wide and full of warning, so I roll my eyes at her and plop a couple into my mouth before giving her a melodramatic smile. “What’s on the agenda for girl’s night?” 

Ava and Emma share a weird look before Ava speaks up, “how about 2 truths and a lie?” 

“Yes, I’ll finally get to learn your secrets.” I conspicuously rub my hands together, excitement running through my body. 

“Yeah, now that we can trust you not to be a total blabbermouth,” Emma taunts. 

“Hey I wasn’t that bad,” I throw my hands up defensively as Ava laughs. 

“Yes you were.” Ava gestures over to Emma,” remember when Emma and I were freshmans and you came with your dad to pick Emma up from school and you literally screamed out that I had a crush on the science teacher.” 

“Wait what was his name again?” Emma and Ava go silent as they try and remember before Ava slaps her thigh before shouting, “Mr Durrant!” 

“Oh my god yeahhhhh,” Emma shakes her head as she and Ava laugh together but when they catch each other’s gaze, their laughter slowly fades and is replaced with an intense stare. Ava deftly glances at Emma’s lips before I awkwardly cough gaining the attention of the two girls again.

“So, 2 truths and a lie? I’ll go first. I’ve been arrested. I used to have an imaginary friend and I have a belly piercing.” 

Ava and Emma share a conspirutual look before simultaneously saying, “belly piercing.” 

“Come on Mack, you really think I forgot about your imaginary friend Lily? You used to always talk to her and have tea parties with her.” 

I grumble and cross my arms together, “whatever someone else go next.” 

“I’ll go.” Ava calls out. She presses her lips together in a thin line deep in thought before making an, “ah-ha” sound. “I’ve never broken a bone, i’ve been in a car crash and I have a secret cinder account.” 

I reflect on Ava’s answers for a few moments before coming to a conclusion. “Definitely the broken bones. Did you think I wouldn’t remember the nasty fall you took in cheer your freshman year?” 

Emma still in deep contemplation, quietly gazes at Ava. Her eyes roam her facial features before she squeaks out, “cinder account.” 

“Ding, ding, ding.” Ava lifts her forefinger, tapping it on her nose, “we have a winner. To be honest I thought about making one but I chickened out at the last minute.” 

“What? Why would you even consider making an account, you’re gorgeous. I would’ve thought you would have girls lining up around the block? 

“Well even though we didn’t work out, I’m still grateful for the time I had with Bayla. She made me feel like I wasn’t alone because for a long time I felt like I was.” She flickers her gaze at Emma, her eyes softening, “And thanks to her she helped me realise that I have my eye on someone else.” 

Emma gives Ava a small smile, hmmm so maybe something did happen between them and they haven’t told me before they keep giving each other flirty looks all night. Just to mess with them a little I break the moment between them by throwing a piece of popcorn at Emma, “I guess it’s your turn.” 

“Okay fine. I’ve seen two boys from our school topless, I’ve dyed my hair blue and” she looks over at Ava, her eyes full of longing. “I kissed a girl.” 

I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT. THEY KISSED. 

I play off Emma’s statement cooly with a blank expression on my face, trying to hide my happiness for them both. I subtly look over at Ava who is so trying not to blush right now but is attempting (and failing) to suppress a smile. Cute. 

“Emma I live with you, I know you haven’t dyed your hair blue!” 

“You got me.” 

“Now that you mention it you would look good with blue hair.” 

After a lot of convincing, we finally managed to get Emma to agree to dye her hair blue. 

“I have a box of dye under my bed. I'm going to go grab it.” I leave the two girls and begin inspecting the contents under my bed, looking for the dye. I triumphantly cheer to myself, like a loser, when I find the box and as I’m about to enter the bathroom, I see Ava leaning down and whispering into Emma’s ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying but I can see Emma’s reflection in the bathroom mirror, her eyes glistening with desire? Excitement? I don’t know but I can tell Emma’s slightly nervous because she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek. 

Emma’s about to respond to Ava before her eyes catch mine in the mirror, “Mack!” her voice startled, “we didn’t see you there.” 

“Yeah I figured.” Emma looks away abashed while Ava awkwardly coughs before reaching out and plucking the dye from her hands. 

We begin mixing the dye together with the bleach and then Ava begins parting Emma’s hair, her fingers slowly tangling in Emma’s hair, before giving it a playful tug. Yuck they’re indirectly not so indirectly flirting in front of me. Right in front of my metaphorical salad! 

“Do you guys think I’ll look different after I dye my hair?” Emma asks as Ava begins painting on the dye with her fingers. 

“How do you want to look?” She raises an eyebrow at Emma. 

“Hot.” 

Ava snorts, “please, like you need a boost in that department.” 

“Hey everyone could use a little hotness, well everyone except you because you’re practically a goddess.” 

Ava’s grin widens and she takes in Emma’s admission. “It’s true. I guess it’s a cheer captain thing.” I clamp my mouth shut, trying so hard not to say anything to ruin this moment, hoping that they’ll forget about my existence. And maybe it works a little too well because Emma and Ava flirt the rest of the time we’re dying her hair and it takes everything in me not to scream and tell them to stop being so weird. 

“Wow you look sexy,” Ava beams at Emma as she brushes through her now blue hair, stars practically glistening in her eyes. 

“Thanks, I guess I’m catching up to you in the hotness department.” 

Ava growls, (weird), her voice a whisper, “mmm. I think you’ve definitely surpassed me.” 

I think I barfed a little in my mouth when I finally have had enough and I throw my hands up in the air, “I’m going to bed!” I turn back and teasingly wiggle my eyebrows at the girls, “make sure to behave yourselves.” 

I crash into my bed but an hour later I hear Emma’s bedroom door shut and a flurry of giggles coming from her room. I guess they’re now making out? Gross. Right where I can hear them. I fold my pillow over my ear, trying to drown the sound of the laughs, and sound of kissing and sucking? I don’t know and I sure as hell don’t want to find out. Eventually I doze off and when I wake up the next morning I creep up to Emma’s room to see if she’s awake and can make me breakfast. But when I open the door, I see her  half naked body, tangled up with a half-naked Ava as they peacefully sleep in each other’s embrace. I quickly but quietly close the door and flop back into my bed, glad that my older sister is getting some but sad because I don’t know when I’m going to get my pancakes now. 

[galaxyofmyown]

Hi!! I'm not sure if you'll take it (and that's 100% okay!!) but as a request can you write hotch x younger, shy reader? I'm just all about that age gap with him (yes, that's my daddy issues speaking up). Have a nice day!! ❤

hi! this was so fun to write. i was aiming for like, idk, 500 words? and then oops! i wrote almost 2000. i accidentally made it specifically for a female reader, so let me know if that doesn’t work for you and i can tweak it. also, sorry if the end feels rushed, but i’m about to fall asleep and i wanted to wrap this one up so i could write the other requests tomorrow. let me know what you think! xx

aaron hotchner x reader - surprise me

“Hey, (Y/N). Drinks? Everyone’s going.” You hear Derek ask. You smile before spinning around in your desk chair.

“God, yes. I was hoping you’d ask, I really need to blow off some steam.” You reply, getting up and grabbing your bag, having already packed up for the night. The team had just gotten back from Middle-of-Nowhere, Kansas, and to say the case was intellectually challenging was an understatement. It felt a lot like piecing together a never-ending puzzle, but you had saved the lives of countless innocent people. There was no better feeling.

Drinking is a close second, however, which is why you were impatiently pacing near the elevator as the rest of your team gathered their things. As soon as everyone arrived, you filed into the elevator.

“You look excited, (Y/N).” Emily said with a smile, knocking her shoulder into yours. You laugh.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Any excuse to spend more time with my favorite group of people!” You say, your voice taking on a teasing tone as you poke a pink-polished finger into Reid’s side. Reid yelps and jumps away, blushing slightly. The rest of the team laughs, Morgan reaching to ruffle his hair. You smile at the sight. They were truly a second family to you. The elevator doors were nearly closed when a large hand reached in and caused the doors to jerk and reopen.

And there he was.

Your boss, Aaron Hotchner. You tensed despite yourself as he slid in right next to you. Rossi clapped him on the shoulder.

“Nice of you to join us.” He said. Hotch nodded, professional as ever. Everyone looked as surprised as you felt.

“You’re coming out with us, sir? You never come.” Garcia said, not unkindly. You all understood his commitment to his son, so you couldn’t really blame him for always being too busy for drinks. Unlike everyone else, your surprise was less pleasant and more panicked. Even though you’d been on the team for well over a year, you still found it extremely difficult to talk to Hotch outside of a case.

It might have something to do with you being head over heels for the older man.

“Jack is with his aunt for the weekend, so JJ convinced me to tag along. I hope that’s alright with everyone.” He said, looking directly at you. You nod and force a tight smile, missing the way your discomfort makes his brows furrow.

There goes your plan to let loose. You can’t help but monitor every word, every movement you make when you’re around Hotch. You found him attractive the moment you met him, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you realized you actually had feelings for the man. You loved how caring and loyal he was, and you appreciated every smile and laugh he allowed himself. He was also a natural leader, solid in a way no other man in your life had been. You understood, however, that Hotch would never settle for someone as young and inexperienced as you. Aside from the odd celebrity crush, you had never felt so attracted to an older man. It left you floundered, constantly at a loss for words. He probably thought you were an immature girl who couldn’t control her feelings at 28.

You rode with Emily to the bar, who couldn’t stop laughing at your nerves. She was your best friend, so she knew all about your unfortunate crush. Hopefully she was the only one.

“He’s really a nice guy, (Y/N). Not intimidating at all. Well, not when you actually talk to him. You should try it sometime.” She said, pulling the bar door open for you. You rolled your eyes.

“I do talk to him. That’s the problem. The more I’m around him the more likely it is that I die of a broken heart. Do you want me to die, Prentiss? Is that what you want?” You said. Emily barks out a laugh at your theatrics. Your conversation is cut short as you approach the large round booth your team is occupying for the night. Emily sneaks over to sit next to Rossi, leaving only the seat next to Hotch. She smiles with false sweetness and you slide in across from her, and you kick her lightly under the table. You stay as close to the edge of the seat as you can manage, trying your hardest not to impinge on Hotch’s personal space.

You’re about to ask if anyone wants a drink when Hotch slides your favorite drink, a Moscow Mule, over to you.

“It’s your favorite, right?” Hotch asks, his voice soft over the noise of the bar. You falter. How did he know that? You probably haven’t ordered a drink in front of him in months.

“Um, uh, yeah. Thank you.” You say. He nods curtly. You both turn away from each other, and you sip at your drink, hoping it’ll take the edge off soon enough. 

Despite the pleasant conversation you have with your team, you can’t shake your nerves. Three drinks deep and still feeling like you’ve had the breath knocked out of you every time you see Hotch laugh.

“So, Hotch. Anyone special in your life?” Garcia asks boldly, trying to shake the attention off her and her current love life.

Nope. Not happening. You get up from the table abruptly, shaking the table slightly as you do so. Great, now everyone is looking at you.

“Um. Anybody want another drink?” You ask. JJ requests another vodka soda and Hotch politely asks for a beer. You never drink beer, but you’re too nervous to ask which kind. You rush off to the bar, where a bartender about your age is wiping down the counter.

“Hi! Can I get a vodka soda, a glass of water, and a beer, please?” You ask, feeling your nerves dissolve. The bartender looks up, his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

“What kind of beer?” He asks. You shrug, defeated.

“Honestly, just surprise me.” You say. He smiles, clearly amused, and turns to get your drinks. You don’t even notice someone approaching until you hear a familiar voice clear his throat.

“(Y/N).” He says. You turn, trying not to shy away as Hotch towers over you.

“Yes?” You say, willing your voice to not sound squeaky.

“Can we talk?” He asks, pulling at his tie. 

Fuck.

“Sure. Let me just…” You trail off, motioning at the bartender. Hotch nods in understanding. Just as he does, the bartender slides the drinks over to you. Hotch grabs JJ’s drink and walks it over to her. Emily sends you a suggestive look from across the room. You flip her off and turn to the bartender.

“Please add these to Emily Prentiss’ tab. That’s P-R-E-N-T-I-S-S.” You say, and the bartender laughs.

“No problem, um-” He says. You smile.

“(Y/N).” You say, filling in his blank.

“Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He says before being flagged down by another customer.

You turn around with your water and Hotch’s beer, only to bump right into the older man.

“Jesus fuck!” You exclaim as ice water stings your hand. Hotch laughs, a deep rumbling sound that completely entrances you.

“Sorry.” He says, freeing up one of your hands by taking his beer.

“I hope you like that kind. I’m not much of a beer drinker.” You say, trying for a smooth recovery. Hotch nods appreciatively.

“This is perfect,” He says, and you unclench slightly, “could we talk outside? It’s a bit loud in here.”

You nod, and he guides you out of the bar with his hand on your elbow. The crisp evening air takes some over the edge off. Hotch leans against the brick wall and you do the same. You’re only illuminated by the purple neon “open” sign hanging over you.

“I wanted to apologize.” Hotch blurts out, taking you by surprise. You tilt your head to the side, asking a silent question. Hotch almost dies on the spot.

“I- I’ve acted inappropriately towards you, and for that I apologize. I value your expertise and think you’re an invaluable member of this team. I never intended to make you uncomfortable.” He says in a rush, throwing you completely off guard. It takes you a moment to remember how to talk, but when you do all that comes out is-

“What are you talking about?”

Hotch runs a hand through his hair and smiles, but it looks painful.

“Please, (Y/N), don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“That I have feelings for you.”

And then you wake up.

Well, this is the part where you should wake up, but you’re still here, outside with Hotch. Hotch. Aaron Hotchner. Who likes you.

“What?” You said, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Hotch smiles again, resigned.

“Please. You must’ve noticed. I haven’t been exactly inconspicuous. And again, I’m sorry. It must make you very uncomfortable for someone more advanced than you in both age and position to be so blatant in their feelings for you.”

“What is happening?” You whisper, mostly to yourself. “You- you like me?” You ask as if he hasn’t made it obvious enough. Hotch actually has the audacity to look ashamed as he nods. After you’ve had a moment to process, you can’t help the world-stopping, blinding smile that graces your face. You tentatively reach for his hand. Hotch looks up at you in disbelief as you entwine your fingers with him.

“(Y/N)?” He asks carefully, not fully trusting the scene unfolding before him.

“I had no idea,” You say, feeling elated, “I always thought I was the one being obvious about my feelings.”

Hotch jerks his hand away, and your face falls.

“But- you shouldn’t have any feelings. Not for me.” He says, his face turning stony before your eyes. 

“Why not?”

“Because, (Y/N)! I’m too old for you. I can’t give you what I want. You deserve to be with someone your age, someone who can give you all of his time.” He says, taking a step away from you. You take another step towards him.

“Hey, no. Is your name Aaron Hotchner?” You ask, pulling him towards you.

“What? Yes.” He says, clearly confused. You slowly and gently take his face in your hands, bringing his forehead down to yours.

“Then you are what I want, Aaron.” You whisper, the name tasting sweet in your mouth. Hotch practically melts, pulling you into a hug by your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck and revel in the warmth of his body and fast beat of his heart. 

“(Y/N), my darling girl,” He says softly, pulling back slightly. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod eagerly, and he pulls you to him. He kisses the way he loves, carefully yet passionately. When you pull away you feel like a new woman, and you wrap your arms around him once again.

“You are amazing.” He says, his words warming you even more than his touch. You kiss him again.

“Let’s go home, Aaron.” You say. And you do.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 13: SNAFU

Characters: Captain Syverson, various original minor/supporting characters.

Summary: Sy has some time to think about his past, present, and future while roughing it in the Virginia wilderness which leads him to a revelation about what he really wants…but is it too late?

Need to start from the beginning? Miss an update because Tumblr? Click me!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings:  Mild language, mature themes, military and weapon terminology, discussion, and use. (For those who don’t know, SNAFU is a term coined in the military. It’s an acronym for “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” And since this is from Sy’s perspective, I thought a military term, as opposed to a therapy term would be appropriate.)

Author’s Note: Despite this being the longest chapter, clocking in at almost 5k, it was one of the easiest to write, and came the quickest. I love writing from Sy’s perspective, and the pure love he has for Shane. I’m hoping to be able to write a bit more of his POV before the story is complete. We’ll see. I apologize if it seems like one long rant about Sy’s feelings…I guess that’s what it is, with various activities peppered in. He can be a sensitive guy, and I wanted to show that. 

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy was no whimp. That much was certain. Missouri winters had toughened him up more than most men in his battalion and most of the participants in the training he was currently undertaking.

But it was more than that. Sy was uniquely prepared for the elements. He remembered a particularly harsh December night during Christmas break, before he joined the service when he was home alone and had to let the dog out. Fool that he was, he wore no shoes. Greater fool, he'd allowed the door to the back yard to close…and unfortunately, it had a tendency to lock. Which it did. He tried fruitlessly for a while to break back in, but being without a cell phone, he knew he'd have to walk a good distance for help with the lock.

He slipped out the gate and started up to the road, to follow it  to his grandparents a few miles away. The county road wasn't the best kind for walking, particularly barefoot in the late fall, but his feet were soon too numb to feel the gravel and whatever else was lacerating the soles of his feet. After about an hour, he made it there, shivering, knocking frantically and waking his frail old grandparents up to rescue him from his own negligence. He'd regret that until the day he died. Not that they were angry about it. They shrugged it off. His grandma cleaned the blood and dirt from his feet and bandaged the shallowed abrasions. They didn't look too bad, considering the area they lived in and the trash that could have been waiting to carve him up. Then she set about cleaning up Sy's messy footprints from her normally immaculate floor. Grandpa looked all over for their spare keys to Sy's and his mom's house, and finally found them. He lent him a pair of shoes, drove him back home, and let him in the house. After that, Sy found himself eager to spend time outdoors during colder weather. As if determined to build up a tolerance to it in case he ever found himself in such a situation again.

Now, despite the time of year being only late August, it was unseasonably cool, especially at night, as if Christmas was right around the corner, and Sy was wishing more and more that he had someone to cuddle with during the nights he'd be doing cross country training here at the beautiful Shenandoah National Park. He had packed only the essentials for the expedition, a mess kit, bed roll, canteen, modest rations, first aid supplies, et cetera, plus a rope and a tarp for building a shelter. On his person, he had a compass, a topographical map of the park with checkpoints indicated, waterproof, strike-anywhere matches, a hunting knife, a tactical knife, an M17 pistol, and three .9mm clips. He was also given a flare gun to use in case he got stuck for any reason and needed extraction.

On his first night in the wilderness, he'd taken a lot of time falling asleep. Thinking.

He thought about his last week at home. He wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were doing with Aika. Shane had offered to watch her, and he considered it. He had appreciated her eagerness to help after her…less than enthusiastic response to hearing about this trip. But he decided since Aika had a close relationship already with Fred and Caroline, and she was still getting to know Shane, they'd better be the ones to take her. She understood, and had offered the second reason that since she worked so much, she wouldn't be able to give her the kind of attention she was used to. That had made a lot of sense. He felt like kind of a bad dog parent for not thinking of it, himself.

He thought about the week he'd been here already at the compound. His first day filling out paperwork, he was asked for an emergency contact. He was used to putting his mom…but she wasn't in the best of health, herself. He had nobody. Nobody but Shane. He put her down, instead of his mom. He thought about the seminars on company approved methods of subduing and detaining targets and combatants. He should have taught Shane some self-defense moves before he left. She could handle herself, and she'd proven so, but still. A refresher, or an advancement on one's skills was always a good idea. But he was sure she'd be fine. He thought about her the most in the torturous policy and procedure lecture. What he wouldn't'a given to have her here with him. She would have made everything fun. And she would have been a way better study partner than Keith. Keith, a Navy vet from Little Rock was a good guy…he just…didn't get Sy's jokes. He was a very literal kind of thinker, and it took extra effort for Sy to communicate with folks like that.

Shane, though…he and Shane wouldn't have gotten too much done, study-wise. They would have been…distracted.

As he hiked along the trails to his first checkpoint, he breathed in the clean, crisp air and stopped at the odd overlook here and there. The park was nestled on the outer edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and they were too gorgeous not to appreciate while he was here. He found himself…uniquely emotional. He didn't feel lonely often, but since he'd met Shane, he'd hardly gone two days without seeing her, even if it was for just an hour. She'd love all of this. She'd probably want a tent, and coffee in the mornings, so they wouldn't be able to travel quite as light, but they'd make it work. Maybe one day they'd take a trip like this. Just for fun. No checkpoints. No deadlines. No semi-automatic weapons…well, honestly, he'd probably still bring a gun, anyway. You never did know about people these days, he thought. Of course, that's probably what people think of me carrying a pistol, he also thought…anyway, he was almost to the checkpoint.

Said checkpoint was a big tent, like the ones they sold fireworks out of leading up to Fourth of July. Inside there was a single lane shooting range set up down one half of the tent. On the other half, there were stations set up with dismantled weapons that you had to assemble in a certain amount of time. Someone had beaten him to the range, so he started with the guns. No problems whatsoever. He was familiar more or less with all of the models, or some version of them. When the previous participant, a small blonde woman, had finished on the range, Sy stepped up to the counter.

The attendant reset the target for Sy so he could do a close range shot, then again for mid and long range ones. He shot well, although he still wasn't used to the lighter weight of the SIG Sauer M17s the armed forces switched to back in 2017. They'd offered him an M18 at the compound, but he favored the heaver pistol, instead. Maybe the M18 was more packable, but Sy just didn't feel right firing a weapon that felt like a feather in his hand. If it was up to him, he'd take a Colt Python .357 Magnum Revolver. That, however, was more than just a question of how the firearm felt in his hand. Being out in the wilderness like this made him think back to how it must have been before these lands became civilized and gentrified. Back to the days of the cowboy, Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. Back when it was just the wild and free land he could pretend it was now. He thanked the attendant, who was writing his name on his targets to take back to the compound along with his graded weapon assembly timesheets, and then was back on his way.

There was an eerie beauty about this unsullied land, he thought, as the dusk fell the second night of the excursion and he began setting up his camp about halfway between the first and second checkpoints, by his estimation. With his fire built and his shelter up, Sy took out some of his rations, cured meat, hard cheese, and some walnuts, and had a light supper before cleaning his gun and turning in while the ground still held some heat from the waning sun, wishing again as the cold set in that his woman was there to warm him.

His sleep was fitful. And he awoke before dawn, from dreams he couldn't remember but which still left him feeling empty. They must have been about her. He was starting to feel regret. The last time he'd seen Shane, he'd said some things that he meant to be selfless. But he didn't mean them. He meant the parts about loving her, of course. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and find her moved on with someone else. He couldn't stand to think about it. As he walked into the next checkpoint area, the range was already set up for close range firing. He riddled the target with .9mm holes and could barely wait until the attendant got the fresh sheet set to mid range before he began firing.

"How about you let me fully clear the lane before you start on the long range target, okay, Syverson?"

"Sorry, man. I'm a little…on edge today. Won't happen again."

The short, sandy-haired buck trotted out to replace the riddled sheet with one more for the long range leg, pulled it down and lacked it in to long range position, then hoofed it back up to safety, sensing the captain's impatience. Sy shot cleanly, but with cold anger, as if the silhouette on the page out there was trying to take Shane away from him. He put two square in the chest, and two in the head without hesitating.

"Man, I've never seen a long range shoot like that! What's the deal, you pissed at an ex, or something?" Sy checked the man's lapel for a name tag.

"Not exactly, Mister…Daniels."

"Call me Jack." they shook hands, and Sy chuckled, questioning.

"I'm Sy. You're name is Jack…Daniels?"

"Yes sir. No relation to the Lynchburg Daniels, unfortunately. Momma wanted to name me after her granddad, and my old man, well, he had no problem with it given his affinity for the spirit."

"A wise man, your dad. Some of my best nights have included Tennessee Number 7." He didn't elaborate, but he was getting very specific flashbacks of drinking games in his kitchen with Shane. And he was gonna have to shake it off before the weapons assembly drill, or else he'd end up putting together an assault rifle backward.

He made it through without any trouble, thank the good Lord. But that didn't mean that his mind wasn't still reeling. He was thinking of Shane and the possibility that she was being courted by Chris Evans look-alikes and young Harrison Ford doppelgangers, and it was making him furious. He was pretty sure that she was about as interested in taking a break as he was, but he couldn't help himself from making the offer under the circumstances. He kicked himself as he made his camp for the evening, not very far away from the third checkpoint, but too far away to get there by dusk when the daily deadline was. He was a shoe in to get there first in the morning, though, if he was reading his map correctly, and he was damn good at maps, if he did say so, himself. And who would bitch at him for bragging out here, anyway. The odd cricket or squirrel? He didn't think so.

It was colder tonight, and he was thankful that he thought to boil some water for his canteen and put it at his feet. He curled his surly, burly body up under the layers of blanket and thermal sheeting. He was almost warm enough…but he still needed something.

His sleep was plagued by strange dreams that he unfortunately remembered tonight. The scene began with Shane in a bright pink dress and matching gloves, dripping with diamonds, like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She looked so glamourous and beautiful, but she was getting passed from man to man to the tune of Madonna's Material Girl, which was not the correct song, and he knew it in that moment, but couldn't correct anyone, because it was all playing out on the big screen TV in his basement. When he realized this he turned it off and noticed a familiar head of hair on his lap and stroked it, about to say "Hey, sunshine." until the figure sat up and looked at him, and it was Jordan, the PTA, batting his eyelashes at him, and asking, "You ready for bed, babe?"  The therapist leaned in for a kiss, but Sy leaned back, tumbled off the couch and landed on those crutches again, standing right in front of Shane in the lobby of the therapy clinic.

"Hey sunshine." he said warmly. She looked confused.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well…I should hope so…it's me. Sy."

"Sorry, not ringing any bells. I'll look you us and see who you're with, though. Usually Heather tells the new patients which therapists they get their first day. What's your last name?"

He felt like he was getting kicked in the gut with a soccer cleat worn by the Incredible Hulk. He answered with defeat.

"Sy's a nickname. Last name Syverson, first name Logan."

"Oh, there you are. Looks like Cory gets to take care of you today. I'll let him know you're ready. As long as you're all done with the secretaries?"

Sy nodded and collapsed to the floor blacking out. When he woke up, his neighbor, Mr. Stevens was standing over him, insisting it was time for him to get ready. He kept handing him things to put on. Pants, a nice shirt, a vest, a light blue tie, a jacket, nice shoes. The whole enchilada. They got out of Fred's car at a little white chapel outside which, his neighbor pinned a small boutonniere of powder blue hydrangeas to his lapel and walked in with him.

"Come on, boy. She'll be here any minute."

Sy was nervous, but excited. He was obviously marrying Shane. But he couldn't remember proposing, or planning the wedding, or an engagement party, or bachelor party, or rehearsal dinner, nothing…but none of that mattered. He heard the first notes of "Here Comes the Bride" and everything faded away, anyway. He began to cry as she got closer. She was moving slowly, he presumed out of nerves. Or perhaps she'd chosen the wrong shoes. It didn't matter. They'd dance the night away barefoot, and make love until dawn. He wished her veil wasn't so thick. He couldn't even see her bouquet. Let alone her stunning face, no doubt smiling as she cried with him. When she stood in front of him, he broke protocol and removed the veil to find Aika in a white dress on her hind legs panting, tongue lolling happily to one side.

"You may now kiss the bride." said the wizened old minister, causing Aika to knock Sy to the ground licking his face until he blacked out again.

This time, he woke to the chirping birds of a mountain morning in Virginia. His campfire long snuffed, his canteen now chilled as his blood. Those dreams…those were traumatic. He didn't want Shane to see anyone else. The thought of seeing anyone else himself repulsed him. Thinking about what his life would have been like if they'd never gotten to work together made him physically ill, and he was terrified that if he didn't act on these feelings, he'd end up with no one but his dog. Why did it take a trip out of state and all these nights of solitude to figure this out? She was all that mattered. He could dig ditches, flip burgers, get a teaching certificate and coach, or teach gym. Whatever. He also liked history. He could think of something if the people at Secure Source couldn't keep him in consistent work. It would be fine. He understood his purpose now. And it wasn't just to do his duty to his country. He'd served proudly for years. He had a new purpose now. And it was her.

He packed up camp in what he was sure was record time and hauled ass to the last checkpoint where the brass should be waiting for finishers. He was the first one there this morning, but he wasn't sure if anyone had made it yesterday. He didn't try to make small talk with the attendant today. He was on a legit mission to get back to his locker at the compound, turn his phone on and call Shane. He fired four shots, but only made two holes on the long range target. One in the chest, one in the head. The attendant was impressed, giving the highest possible grade.

"Man, Syverson. I pray I never do anything to piss you off."

Sy nodded in acknowledgement and went on to the weapons drill booths. Today, there were distracting sound effects playing on a speaker in each booth, and each one was different. Sy ignored the cacophony, pretending it was white noise, and focused on the puzzles at hand, breezing through the new weapons in better time than ever.

As his cards were being scored and turned in for review to Jane Freitag, the administrator over acquisitions and training, he got himself a cup of coffee and a doughnut, and just observed her, tactically, and objectively. She was a redhead with sharp features, freckles, and light eyes. She was slender, but dressed simply, and modestly. The consummate professional. Sy had honestly barely registered her gender, and it wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. She was. Full red lips, lashes for days, and although her clothes didn't exactly accentuate her shape, he could tell he had a decent figure. He just wasn't interested. And would never be interested in anyone but Shane again. Miss Freitag startled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Syverson." She beckoned him to the entrance to the tent near her vehicle.

He picked up his gear and coffee and trotted over to her.

"Ma'am?"

"Jane, please."

"Sy, then, for me. What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, you're the first participant across the finish line. I'm very impressed. It seems as though you almost could have finished last night."

"Yes, ma'am, if I hadn't taken a little extra time for sightseeing, I might have made it here by dusk last night. I just haven't had the hustle I had today."

"Well, that's nothing to sneer at. Normally, the deprivation of food, regular water supply, and proper sleeping conditions make participants sloppy. The opposite seems to be true for you, as you've done better at each checkpoint than the one before. Now, let's get back to the compound and get you a proper meal, and a shower, and talk about what's next for you here at Secure Source."

"Yeah, about that. Before we go much further with this, I need to know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I need to know if you'll be able to find me work near enough to St. Robert and the base there so that I don't have to relocate and travel all the time.  I've got a life there, and…it's not something I can just pick up and move on a whim, and I don't want to be away for weeks and months at a time. I know I made this trip work, but I'm praying it didn't already ruin everything." He wasn't going to waste time mincing words. He needed to know right away or else this wouldn't work.

"Sy, with your talent…they're gonna want to put you on the high profile cases. Celebrity security. Concerts, movie premiers, things like that. You'll be wasted as a small town rent-a-cop." there was true concern in her face and her voice as she drove them out of the park and onto the main road to Secure Source's compound.

"If there's a need I can fill, how is that a waste? There's lots of talent in this program. Just 'cause I finished first don't mean I did it the best. And I'm sure most of these folks have the people skills to take them farther'n me. And if you wanna gimme first crack at those, I'll hear ya out. Just…let me reserve the right to turn down the out of town jobs. Especially if they're short notice. And if it takes me away from another security job, I want you to send me a replacement a few days in advance so I can meet 'em, train 'em, and introduce 'em around."

"Seems reasonable." Jane said.

"Well, alright, then. I think we got ourselves a deal. I'll shower up in the locker room real quick, then meet ya in the commissary for a sandwich so we can handle the particulars?"

"Sure, Sy." she agreed as they pulled into the parking structure.

They went their separate ways, Jane to her office, and Sy to the quartermaster to return his supplies and get the key to his locker. He practically danced there, he was so giddy to get to call Shane. He did need a quick shower first, though. Which he took, grabbing some shampoo and soap out of his travel bag. When he got back to his locker, towel around his waist, he replaced the products and grabbed his phone. He sat on the bench between the rows of lockers as it booted up.

When it did, it began alerting him as if it's life depended on it. Three text messages, three voicemails, … and twenty four missed calls. That was odd. Maybe a telemarketer had gotten his number.

He checked the texts first. One was a picture of Aika from Fred, his neighbor, the other two were from Shane…two days ago. The day he went into the park.

Hey, hope you have a great first day of Survivor: Virginia! Lol! Be safe! I love you!

OMG, nutty day today! I'm gonna be doing notes for hours! I'll text you in the morning! <3

And then nothing…he chuckled at Survivor: Virginia, but was a bit concerned. Maybe she'd decided not to waste time texting him if he wasn't going to respond? He didn't know. Maybe some of the calls or voicemails were from her. He'd check before calling.

One from his mom, one from the Stephen's house phone, and the rest were from Fort Wood Therapy. That was weird. He was discharged and didn't have any appointments…surely he wasn't missing any…Shane would have said something. He listened to the voicemails. The first one was from Heather.

"Hey, Sy, it's Heather, Shane's friend here at therapy. Hey, give me a call when you get this. Thanks."

Weird…the next one was from Susan, Shane's boss. In the same tone.

"Captain Syverson, it's Susan DeForrest here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. Please give us a call when you get this. Thank you."

Again, weird. The last one was Susan again and far less friendly and measured.

"Mr. Syverson. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you need to bring Shane back to work and stop screwing around. One or both of you is in serious trouble. Either you're being hot-lined for abduction or she's fired for not showing up for work. The choice will be hers." and the line went dead.

Sy felt his stomach twist into nauseated knots at Susan's words. Shane hadn't been to work. For how long? He had to call them. He didn't want to think about the horror that might have befallen Shane while he'd been away.

"Fort Wood Therapy Clinic, this is Heather, how may I help you?" Heather said, trying to hide the obvious worry beneath the cordial demeanor.

"Heather, it's Sy, what the hell's going on with Shane? What do you mean, she hasn't been to work, I don't…"

"Let me give you to Susan, Sy. I'm sorry." She added the last two words in a whisper. After a brief moment on hold, Susan picked up.

"So, Mr. Syverson. Finally decided to call us back?"

"Cut it out, Susan." He let her blatant ignorance of his rank slide in favor of getting to the point. "Tell me what's going on."

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. I knew letting her date a patient would come back to bite me. I should never have--"

"Shut up! This isn't about you, and it isn't because of you. And you had no right to tell Shane who she could and couldn't date, anyway. I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her. Thanks for calling me. I know your intentions weren't the best when you did, but ultimately, it worked out. I may not have found out otherwise, at least until… much later."

He hung up before she could respond. He had to talk to Jane about cutting his training short. This was all his fault. If he had just come to the realization of just how important, how vital Shane really was to him before he left…well he never would have gone in the first place. She was his life now. His world. His future, and his whole heart. Tears stung his eyes as he dressed to meet Jane in the commissary. She'd have to be okay with this. She'd have to understand.

As he got closer to the smell of fry oil, seasonings, and sizzling meat on a griddle, aromas that usually made his stomach grumble with hunger, he had to swallow back the bile that crept up his throat. He found her seated at a small round four-top, already eating a salad. He sat across from her, startling her from whatever she was reading on her phone, and again when she looked at his expression and complexion.

"Sy, what's wrong? You look downright green!"

"Listen, Jane, I'm going to have to leave training early." She scowled at him, but he was more concerned with the putrid smells of boiled egg and onion coming off her chef salad. He had to get this over with quick before he wretched in the middle of the mess hall.

"That's a big ask, Sy. Gonna have to have a reason."

"I just got a call that my girlfriend is missing. I need to go home and help find her."

"Oh…yeah, that's…that's some reason. I'm really sorry to hear that. Any leads so far?"

"No, I just got off the phone with her useless boss and all she told me was that she hasn't been to work since Monday and can't be reached on her phone. I have my suspicions, but I wanna talk to the authorities."

"Okay, well. Maybe when things calm down at home, we can set you up with some online courses like we do for our assets who need refreshers, but are on assignment. I'll approve that for you."

"Thanks," he said, gratefully, "I'm also wondering if the company has any…transportation solutions for me…of an immediate nature?"

"Man, what were your letters to Santa like as a child?"

"Oh, you know, a little red wagon, end of poverty, world peace…that kind of stuff." he grinned his most charming grin.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay, but you have to return the favor somehow, Sy."

"How about, one assignments of your choosing, no questions asked?"

"Hmmm, what about five assignments?"

"Three?" he countered.

"Done." they shook hands across the table. "I would have settled at two." she smirked.

"I would have done ten." he winked at her as he turned to retrieve his belongings from his bunk and locker. He had a plane…or perhaps a chopper to catch.

Up Next: Chapter 14: No Call No Show