#so either way there was no way for upstairs neighbor to confirm whether there was a leak or not

[starstruckpurpledragon]

so having this hole in my ceiling due to the attic pipe (starting to suspect it's evil now that it's caused it's second water disaster) has reminded me of that one time in college when the apartment above mine had it's water heater go out

background is that at the time my college did not have dorms - there were apartments on campus and living on campus was encouraged but not mandatory for anyone (this has since changed as there are now many dorms and you can only live off campus if you're not a freshman or have a waiver) - so these were the campus apartments with the tiny roaches (that thrived like no other) which i've never seen before nor since (but the roaches are irrelevant to the story, they were just obnoxious little jerks with tenacity like no other)

Anyway, the apartments kept the water heaters hidden away where we mere mortals (tenants) could not reach them. So one evening, my upstairs neighbor's water heater goes out and starts leaking water. Of course, upstairs neighbor is completely unaware of this because it's inaccessible to them. But I know something must be wrong because a wet patch had formed on the living room ceiling of my apartment. My roommate was out, so I'm stuck trying to deal with this on my own. First I went up to check on my neighbor because maybe they're already in contact with maintenance?

But they insist nothing is wrong and their apartment is fine. They don't really seem to think anything's actually wrong and rather than insist, I returned to the apartment. Where the wet patch is growing.

Also the popcorn stuff starts to peel off that wet area. Kinda gross.

I called the maintenance line and, since it's after hours, I get connected to a call center where they'd schedule stuff for maintenance to deal with in the morning, unless it was an emergency that needed dealing with right then. Obviously a growing wet patch on the ceiling and the popcorn peeling off is a sign of a water emergency that needs dealing with immediately, right?

well, try telling that to call center lady. I tell her what's going on and she clearly decides she's going to be useless and rude. I'm pretty sure she thought i was making this shit up because i was a college student and after repeating the fact that there was a leak in my ceiling for the third time I gave up and just hung up on her. Then I called again, crossing my fingers that i wouldn't get the same person

i did not, thankfully.

I described one time the growing wet spot and the peeling popcorn and the likelihood that there was a leak upstairs that my neighbor was blissfully unaware of and call center queen, kind person that she was, agreed this was an emergency situation and she'd get maintenance dispatched immediately - I thanked her effusively and told her about the first call and how relieved I was she was sending help now instead of trying to make me wait for morning like the first lady. She told me she was glad I'd tried calling again - water damage can get bad all too easily without being noticed and she'd hate for a college kid to have to deal with ruined furniture, electronics, or homework.

About thirty minutes later, the maintenance guy showed up, took one look at my ceiling, and went to let my upstairs neighbor know there was a leak in his apartment. Once the leak was... not fixed, exactly, since the water heater needed replacing, but it was mitigated until repairs could be made later - the maintenance guy came back and removed the peeling popcorn hanging ominously off the ceiling. He also found out when I would be free from classes later that week so that I could be present when he came back to re-popcorn the ceiling.

by then my roommate had returned and she spent some time staring at the damp patch on the ceiling with a kind of O_O expression because, yeah, that could have gone a lot worse if I hadn't been home

[marjansmarwani]

watch it as it goes 

2.3k || ao3

The 126 responds to a call with a familiar address —— Another 2x12 spec fic

Based on the stills released it doesn't look like we're going to get a firefam rescue, so I wrote it. Maybe I'm wrong (in which case I'll be thrilled) but if I'm not, then here’s some extra. You can never have too much firefam, I think.

----------

When the address came over the radio, Paul was the first to make the connection.

“That’s TK and Carlos’ place,” he announced grimly, watching the dawning looks of horror on the rest of the teams faces’ as they also made the connection. 

“Dispatch,” Judd asked curtly into the radio, “any other info you have on this call? Who called it in?” 

“A neighbor,” Grace’s voice replied, “she says she hasn’t seen any signs of the residents.” 

Judd let out a curse and the rest grew even more somber. There was a moment of silence and dark looks amongst the rest of the team before Judd took a deep breath turned from the front seat to look at them all, “Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” he reminded them, voice full of forced optimism. “We don’t know what the situation is and TK was a damn good firefighter; no matter what the situation, I like their chances. Besides,” he added as he turned back around to the front, “they might not even be home. They didn’t call it in, after all.” 

That notion was quickly assuaged when they pulled up to the scene. First they saw the condo; fully engulfed and burning bright against the night sky. But in the foreground was the damning evidence of both their cars parked in the driveway. They all processed the information silently, turning to their acting captain for instructions. 

“Alright y’all,” Judd said as they pulled on their gear, “we can assume they’re likely upstairs, so Marwani and Strickland head up there, Chavez will do a sweep of the fist floor, just in case.” 

Even as he spoke, bits of the structure were crumbling. 

“We gotta do this fast,” Judd reminded them needlessly, “the structure is getting less stable by the second. Be smart and keep your comms open. I’ll have a team out here ready with hoses for the moment you get outside. I know these are our friends and this is different, but I need to know that your heads are in the game.” 

When he got a round of nods for confirmation he nodded as well, “Alright: head in, stay sharp, and be safe.” 

There was a chorus of “Yes, Cap” before they parted ways - some heading for the hoses, the assigned trio heading inside. No sooner than they had entered than Marjan and Paul stepped back outside. 

“Stairs are gone Cap,” Marjan reported, “we’re going to need a plan B.” 

“There’s a balcony on the east side,” Paul provided, “it goes into the bedroom. If we can get the ladder there we can go in that way.” 

“Alright let’s do it then,” Judd agreed, already moving to get the ladder set up. A minute later it was up and Marjan and Paul were climbing up it and over the ledge of the balcony. They made quick work of the door and we inside in a matter of seconds, blinking to adjust to the brightness of the flames engulfing the room. They didn’t see them and for several heart-stopping moments, they entertained all the awful possibilities. Then Paul spotted movement amongst the smoke and nudged Marjan, gesturing towards the motion. 

She led the way forward and as they drew closer it became evident that it was two figures, but only one was moving. A few more steps told them that all the motion was coming from TK as he performed CPR on the unmoving form of Carlos, sprawled and unmoving on the floor below him. He was coughing as he went and fresh, painful burns were evident along his exposed skin even from a distance, but it was the desperation in his eyes that struck them most of all. 

Though he saw them he didn’t seem to process the fact that they were there. He continued giving compressions, turning his face - smeared with soot save for the clean streaks left by tears - away from them and back to Carlos. He was giving it all he had but, judging by the shaking of his shoulders and the wracking coughs that were coming more and more frequently, he was fading. But if there was one thing they knew about TK Strand it was that he would do anything and give everything to save someone he loved; Carlos most of all.

Paul shook himself out of his stupor first. It was only a moment but in a situation like this, every single second counted. He stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on TK’s shoulder. 

“TK,” he tried, raising his voice to be heard over the chaos around them, “we need to get you out of here!” 

TK went on as if he hadn’t heard him and Paul looked to Marjan. She gave him a worried look before she stepped closer, putting herself directly in TK’s line of sight. 

“TK,” she said as gently as she could through the mask and the noise, “you need to stop so we can get you both out of here. We need to get you both help. We’re here now - we’ve got this; let us help you help him.” 

Somehow her words seemed to filter through his haze. He froze then, stopping in the act of repeating compressions to look up them. They could see the situation processing now, the fact that they were here finally sinking in. He nodded and shifted back so they could reach Carlos better, “Carlos goes first.” 

Paul wasn’t surprised by the words and he shook his head immediately, “No, we’re getting you both out - together. Can you walk?” 

TK nodded and, with Marjan’s help, pulled himself to his feet. He stood unsteadily, swaying as he watched Paul bend down and take ahold of Carlos, lifting him over his shoulder with some help from Marjan. Then - with a steadying hand from Marjan on TK’s arm - they headed back towards the balcony and the fresh air below. 

Paul made quick work of climbing over the edge and down the ladder, eager to get Carlos help as soon as possible. He could hear the sounds of Marjan leading TK down the ladder behind him and he threw a glance over his shoulder to confirm that they had made it down the ladder as well before he turned to the paramedic team that had responded with them, setting Carlos’s still form down on the gurney provided. 

“He’s not breathing,” he informed them, ripping off his mask so they could hear him better, “he was receiving CPR until we pulled them out but I don’t know how long it’s been.” 

The paramedic captain nodded, stepping in with an oxygen mask that he slipped over Carlos’s face. He began rattling off instructions to his team and Paul watched for a moment as they descended on Carlos with calm proficiency; trying not to dwell on the fact that it was his friend on the gurney before him: unmoving and not breathing. 

His attention was diverted by the sound of footsteps beside him and a noise of pain. He turned to the source to see Marjan leading TK to the back of the ambulance and helping him to sit on it. He was coughing and his entire body was shaking, but what struck Paul the most was the look in his eyes. It was pure fear and desperation, and it was zeroed in on the paramedics surrounding Carlos, blocking him from their view. Marjan squeezed his shoulder and murmured reassurances, but when her gaze met Paul’s he saw the same fear in her eyes that he felt. 

They stood there, watching and hoping until another set of footsteps stopped at Paul’s shoulder. 

“Strickland, Marwani, I need you on the hoses,” Judd informed them, voice firm but tense as if he didn’t want to be giving the order any more than they wanted to hear it. 

Marjan looked like she wanted to protest, looking from Judd to TK, but Judd shook his head. 

“I’ll stay with him,” he promised, voice softer than usual, “Go on.”

Paul met Marjan’s eyes again and she nodded, giving TK’s shoulder one last squeeze before she stepped away. Paul stole one more glance at Carlos, trying not to dwell on the fact that they were prepping him to be intubated, that he was still not breathing on his own before he swallowed and nodded, turning back towards the flaming home and away from the pain of his friends. 

As Paul and Marjan rushed over, jogging to help with some of the hoses Judd stepped closer to TK. The paramedic was still coughing, but he shook off any attempt from either of the on-duty paramedics to help him. Judd held out a hand to Choi, one of the B shift paramedics, and she placed the O2 she had been trying to get TK to take in it. He stepped forward and slipped the mask over his friend’s face without a word, simply raising an unimpressed eyebrow when TK turned to argue with him. 

Whether it was something in his gaze or simply his presence, TK deflated; allowing Judd to finish securing the mask over his face. Once he knew that the other man was finally getting some clean oxygen into his body he took a moment to give him a once over. There were burns scattered across his body and judging by the coughing a fair amount of smoke inhalation, but all in all, he could be worse off. 

Yet to look at him, you would never know. The pain in his expression was palpable and Judd understood. The physical pains were nothing; bearable and easy to ignore. It was the fear and uncertainty of watching the person you loved in pain that never failed to hurt the worse and it was written all over TK’s face. 

He stood beside his friend, keeping an eye on the fire and crew before them but never fully pulling his gaze from the younger man. The moment they inserted an airway into Carlos’s mouth he saw what little composure he had left crumble. He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around him and holding him tight, hoping to even offer a fraction of the reassurance he knew he needed.

“Don’t count him out yet kid,” he murmured as he clutched TK’s shaking body, “he’s made of strong stuff. And you know better than me that he’ll do whatever he can to stay with you.” 

He felt TK nod against his chest and the telltale wetness of tears. He stayed there, holding TK and murmuring reassurances until the paramedic team indicated that Carlos was stable enough to transport. It was only then that he stepped away, but not before he gave TK one last reminder. 

“I know you’re worried about him,” he murmured, “but you have to take care of yourself too. Let them help you and you’ll be able to be with him before you know it. Okay?” 

When TK nodded, a small and feeble thing, Judd mirrored it and stepped away as the ambulance prepared to roll out. 

“You’re not alone kid,” he promised, “don’t forget that. No matter what you are going to have people on your side.” 

TK met his eyes as one of the paramedic team led him into the back of the ambulance. He nodded and though he didn’t say anything, Judd smiled. 

He held the smile until the ambulance doors closed and he watched it as it pulled away. Only then did he let it fall and did he allow himself a moment to process everything that had just happened. He had been doing this job for over a decade. It had been nearly half his life and he had seen some truly awful things. But regardless of whatever catastrophes or tragedies he saw, nothing ever compared to having to watch the people he cared about in danger. 

He turned to look at the home before them once more. It was almost smoldering now; the flames nearly extinguished by the combined efforts of his team and water. He swallowed down the bike that threatened at the thought of how bad it could have been, how terribly it might all still end. He felt a wave of sympathy wash over him at the thought of his friends who had lost their home; and the fear at the thought of what they could still lose. 

But he was the captain now so he pushed it down. There would be time to dwell later, once the fire was out and the job was done. Until then, his job was to look out for his team and he intended to do just that. 

----------

It was almost another half hour before they finally won the battle and the once familiar home had been reduced to smoldering ashes. Now they stood amongst the destruction, taking it all in. 

“I can’t believe it’s gone,” Marjan said, voice hushed in terrible awe of this reality.

“But they’re not,” Judd reminded them firmly, “and that’s what matters.” 

“As far as we know,” Paul added grimly. “Carlos didn’t look too good and TK took in a lot of smoke. You know as well as the rest of us smoke inhalation can be tricky, at best. There’s no guarantee that they’re going to be okay.” 

“There’s also no point in thinking the worst,” Judd reminded them, glancing over at where Mateo was toeing at some of the rubble in what might have been the living room. “They don’t need that.” 

There was silence, after that. They all took a few moments to look around, to process the horror they had just seen. For all the times they had watched the flames eat away at lives, never before had it been ones so closely tied to their own. 

“Let’s get wrapped up,” Judd finally said, “and get back to the station. I’ll see what I can do about getting an update on their conditions but in the meantime, we still have a few hours left in our shift. We can head over to the hospital after that.”

“I’ll call Nancy,” Marjan offered, already digging into the pocket beneath her turnout gear. “She’s home tonight, and she’ll want to know. She’ll head over and keep us updated until we can be there.” 

Judd nodded his approval and gestured for the others to get moving, “Come on y’all, let’s get this done.” 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Royal We ch.5

Summary: Finally the concluding chapter of 'The Royal We'! Wonder what's gonna happen here, hmmmm.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

Edge woke far later than normal to the sound of the shower running. He jerked halfway upright in the bed, briefly disoriented, before the events of the day before came back to him in a rush. The baby shower planning, the discussion with Stretch about having children, or rather not having them, Janice’s son getting lost, and learning that Stretch’s abilities as a Judge allowed him see Monster souls, including his own.

Small wonder he’d overslept, Any one of those things would be tiring but put together it was entirely too much for a single day, particularly one where he and Stretch finally came upstairs in the wee hours of the morning, barely taking the time to shed their clothes before flopping together into their bed.

At least Stretch seemed to be somewhat recovered if he were up to taking a shower. Edge sank back against the mattress, kicking the blankets from his feet as he stretched with joint-popping bliss, luxuriating in a moment of uncommon laziness. As stressful as the day before had been it had also been cathartic in some ways, certain issues clouded between him and Stretch discussed then cleared away.

This morning his leg felt fine even without the brace, without even a trace of a pain. It was actually healing as the doctor promised it would, despite Edge’s occasional loose interpretation of their directions, and as time passed it would keep getting better until the injury was only a memory and an occasional ache on very cold days.

Getting back to normal, that was all. The term ‘normal’ when it came to their lives was certainly up for creative interpretation, but it honestly felt like they were getting to it. Of course, that was dependent on nothing new cropping up in their lives and it surely would. It didn’t matter, whatever came he and Stretch would face it together.

Thinking of togetherness, Edge rolled out of bed and made his way to the ensuite bathroom. Muffled strains of music were coming through the closed door and when he opened it, it poured out, bright and pop-cheerful. Behind the shower curtain, oblivious to his audience, Stretch was singing along. He’d always have a lovely singing voice, husky sweet and pitch perfect but it was the lyrics gave Edge a pause.

“i’d get down on my knees, i’d do anything for you…ohhhh, i don’t want anybody else, when i think about you, i touch myself…”

Well, that was an invitation if he’d ever heard one.

Edge only took long enough to strip of his pajamas, casting them off in a rare messy pile on the floor before sliding around the shower curtain. He was ready for Stretch to yelp and jump, catching him before he could slip on the wet porcelain. His lovely bones were slick with water and soap and he was blinking through the spray, his pale eye lights still bright from the surprise.

“holy shit, babe,” Stretch sputtered, licking water from his teeth. “a little warning would be nice!”

Edge only shifted Stretch in his arms, settling him with his spine pressed firmly against Edge’s chest. At his silent urging, Stretch let his head drop back against Edge’s shoulder, huffing a groan as Edge murmured against his skull. “And miss the chance to sweep you off your feet?”

“you can get in your gropes without giving me a—oooh,” Stretch broke off and Edge smirked, mouthing lightly at his scapula as his hands wandered lower, his bare fingers seeking out places he knew were sensitive, pressing and stroking until Stretch shivered in his arms despite the heat of the water pouring down on them.

“What was that?” Edge crooned. “I couldn’t quite hear.”

“baaaaaabe,” Stretch moaned. He squirmed, his pelvis scraping tantalizingly against Edge’s. “this isn’t fair.”

“No? I was only trying to confirm the truth of your statement,” and before Stretch could ask, “Do you, then? Touch yourself when you think about me?”

“heh.” That squirm turned into a deliberate grind and Edge caught his breath, “want a demonstration?”

As it turned out, by the time Stretch was finished ‘demonstrating’, they both needed another shower and Edge was never more pleased to have splurged on their hot water heater. The chance to hold Stretch in his arms for longer without any chilly surprises was well worth the extra cost.

~~*~~

It was a few hours later that Edge was finishing buttoning his shirt, giving his husband a sideways look where he was still sprawled out on the bed, entirely naked except for a single sock that was still sagging at the ankle. The other was in his hand, waiting for its owner to either work up the energy to put it on or to abandoned it to its lonely fate.

Tipping the scales in favor of wearing might be in order. “Are you planning on putting that sock on or do you need longer to bond?”

“i’ll put it on as soon as i can feel my feet,” Stretch sighed out dreamily, “babe, you sure know how to make an entrance.”

“In a variety of ways,” Edge said serenely. “I do well with entrances.” He sat on the side of the bed next to Stretch and leaned in to give him a lingering kiss before snatching up the sweatshirt beside him and dropping it on his head. “Come on, get dressed, we need to check on the chickens. I believe there may have been an event we missed.”

Stretch lurched upright, fighting his way out of the clinging folds of the sweatshirt to give Edge a stricken look, “fuck, i forgot!” The sweatshirt was only half on when he started for the door and he was still struggling to pull it over his skull when he made for the stairs.

“Pants!” Edge shouted after him. Their neighbors asked so little of them and he really didn’t think that no unexpected nudity was an unreasonable request.

A shout floated back up, “bring ‘em with you and i’ll get the coffee going!”

Edge only shook his head and retrieved a clean pair of track pants from their dresser. However this might end, at least it would be with a reasonable amount of dignity.

Well, that might be a tall ask of Stretch and if he couldn’t be clothed in dignity, pants would have to do, so long as it wasn’t the bare minimum.

Edge stifled his grin and headed for the stairs, pants in hand and ready to share that particular witticism with his husband. Anytime was a good time for pun to Stretch, but over morning coffee held a certain brewtiful appeal.

It was with puns exchanged (among them was Stretch declaration that so many jokes this early was a latte to handle) and coffee in hand that they finally made their way to the chicken coop to investigate yesterday’s happenings. The morning air was still tinged cool, only hinting at the afternoon’s predicted warmth and Stretch shuffled through the fallen leaves to the coop door where Noodle and Dumpling were already waiting impatiently for the bringer of their breakfast.

“yeah, sorry, gals,” Stretch set his coffee cup down outside the coop before opening the door. He leaned over to give them each a brief pat before heading to the feed trough. “i know, we’re running late. let’s get you fed before checking on your sis, okay?”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes too far up,” Edge cautioned. He set his cup alongside Stretch's and followed him inside. “I can’t even calculate the odds of her not only finding a fertilized egg but also managing to hatch it.” Her finding an egg at all was a question that Edge already decided not to look into too deeply.

“i can calculate it and trust me, it’s a lot of decimal points. don’t worry,” Stretch said as he measured out a scoopful of feed. “i won’t. not even sure i wanna meet whatever’s supposed to come out of the cryptid egg she stole. hope nugget isn’t too disappointed when her basilisk doesn’t hatch.”

The sound of feed pouring into the trough was enough to summon the smallest of their wayward poultry. Nugget poked her small head through the coop’s door flap, chirring inquisitively, and then darting out to beeline right for the feed. Hungry indeed, she didn’t detour even briefly in Edge’s direction, intent on her pursuit of tasty grains.

But it wasn’t Nugget that had their attention. Behind her, coming from the coop was a faint sound, a peeping reminiscent of those Edge heard on the farm back when he was considering whether to invest in chickens of their own. Stretch only stood frozen, staring at the coop door and Edge was the one who finally opened it and stepped inside.

They’d persuaded Nugget to abandon the plastic bucket she’d nested in for one of the coop boxes, lining it with soft hay and that was where the sound was coming from. The single caged bulb overhead didn’t provide much light and Edge peered into the darkened nest, his sockets narrowed. Nearly buried into the hay was a tiny ball of yellow fluff. Edge reached for it, scooping it cautiously into his hands and bringing it out into the light.

Stretch hovered over his shoulder anxiously, “is that…what is it?”

From the rounded cup of his hands, a tiny, billed head poked out. Webbed feet shifted against his palm as the little creature peeped anxiously, its eyes dark against the bright yellow fluff.

“it’s a duckling! holy shit!” Stretch managed to keep his delight to a muted squeal, reaching out with cautiously grabby hands. Very carefully, Edge deposited it into his hands, watching as the little bird settled against the warm bones. “this is way better than a basilisk!”

“I believe the neighbors will agree,” Edge said dryly, watching as Stretch very gently inspected their newest acquisition, petting that feathery softness. “Is it male or female?”

Stretch rolled his eye lights. “welp, all the years i spent studying physics instead of zoology are letting us down here, babe. i’ve barely got ‘duck’ cleared, if you want a more detailed report, you’re gonna have to hire a pro.”

“Understood,” Edge said. He looked out the door at their backyard, freshly layered in falling leaves. “What on earth are we going to do with a duck?”

Stretch only held the little duckling closer to his chest with a gasp, “we can’t get rid of it!”

“Of course not,” Edge said, exasperated, “I’m not suggesting we drop it off at the local livestock orphanage, it was a legitimate question. We’ll need to make arrangements for it, ducks may have different nutritional needs than chickens. It will need some sort of pond to swim in and—” He broke off as Stretch gave him a look. “What?”

That gentle smile matched the softness in Stretch’s eye lights as they briefly flashed into hearts, shining with love, “nothing, babe. you’re really gonna let me keep cheese?”

Edge blinked. “Did you just call that duckling ‘Cheese’?”

“yeah.” Stretch grinned. “short for cheese and quackers.”

“Oh, for—” Edge sighed. “I walked right into that one.”

“headfirst,” Stretch agreed. “don’t feel bad, i left the door wide open.” At that moment Nugget came wandering back into the coop and started to make concerned motherly noises. Stretch hastily set the duckling, no, Cheese back into the nesting box. Nugget hopped up into it, squirming back to bury her child beneath the bulk of her feathery warmth.

“guess introductions are over.” Lacking a tiny duckling to hold, Stretch settled for flinging his arms around Edge and giving him a hard squeeze. “c’mon, hot coffee waits for no fowl and cold coffee is foul, so let’s get ours.”

“You’re an endless font of hilarity, love.” Edge followed him out and the two of them retrieved their cups. By unspoken agreement, they settled to sit at the patio, sipping their coffee as the trees rustled softly around them.

His phone buzzed, breaking the silence, and Edge checked it to see a text from Papyrus. Ah, another loose end from yesterday’s tapestry to tie up. He opened the text to find not a jumbled of excited words but a picture. Of Undyne in a hospital bed, looking both weary and elated, Alphys at her side, but it was the small bundle in their arms that drew Edge’s gaze.

The only thing visible from the swaddling of striped blankets was the child’s face, the same deep blue skin tone as their mother and a small tuft of red fronds falling over their forehead. Childbirth seemed to have left a certain squashed quality to that face that hadn’t had time yet to fade, puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, and as Edge studied the picture another text came through.

It’s a girl!

A girl, a little niece to spoil and teach, and Edge could already picture her toddling along and joining the other children as they followed Stretch around very much like ducklings as he taught them science and experiments, spending his weekends building snowmen and painting excited faces. Without making any undue assumptions, Edge could imagine the formidable child that Undyne and Papyrus’s genes would produce and the adventures that might come of it, the coming years would certainly be interesting and—

“is that the baby?”

Almost, Edge twitched his phone away before Stretch could see the picture. But none of yesterday's upset or melancholy appeared, Stretch only looked at it with an appropriate expression of interest, smiling widely.

“aww, what a cutey,” Stretch cooed. “tell undyne she does good work.”

“I will,” Edge agreed, and did so. Before he set his phone aside, another picture came through, this time with Papyrus holding the baby, the very vision of a delighted uncle and why his arm was in a sling, Edge decided not to ask. The story of Undyne’s labor and delivery was likely an epic one and not to be heard before plenty of coffee. He was nearly ready for a second cup when Stretch spoke again.

“so,” Stretch began. He shuffled his feet against the porch, his coffee cup held tightly in both hands. “you wanna get started on the pond today?”

Edge smiled faintly. “Of course, love, best to get it ready before Cheese needs it.”

He watched as Stretch lit up, equally delighted by his answer and his ready use of Stretch’s chosen name. It was hardly more ridiculous than Noodle, Nugget, and Dumpling, and besides, their baby deserved the best, too, did it not?

A pond and some research into their little duckling’s needs, that was the challenge for the day and Edge was more than up for it, so long as Stretch was by his side.

Edge set his cup on the table and reached over to take Stretch’s hand in his, slender fingers tangling with his own. He ran his thumb over Stretch’s wedding band, the smooth metal body-warm. Together, no matter what, and Edge was ready for that adventure as well and any that came along with it, for the rest of his life.

Even when it included unexpected additions.

-finis

[tocapturethisvoice]

Recaps of the latest Hvor er Thea clips

how to create an account to watch the clips

CLIP: Tinder-Anders (10.10.2017)

Liv says she’s matched with Tinder-Anders and has been chatting a lot with him. She says Tinder is crazy and so is Tinder-Anders. In his third message he asked if she wanted to go on a date and go to his place. Which of course is not gonna happen, she says. "He also said he’s never been on a Tinder date before, which obviously is a lie since he was on a date with Thea. Anyway, I’m meeting him at a café tomorrow. Many of you probably think this is a bad idea, but fear not as I’m bringing Guttorm."

Liv says Guttorm served in Afghanistan, so rescuing her from a Tinder creep is a piece of cake. She’s excited to ‘catch’ Anders and Guttorm teases her. He says she promised him dinner, so they go shopping for food.

At the super market, Liv explains the Tinder date is tomorrow and Guttorm is gonna film it. Liv says she’ll be careful what she posts of the footage online and says "we’re doing this for Thea", but Guttorm says he hasn’t even met Thea. "Then you’ll do it for me", Liv responds. Guttorm thinks she’s gonna do this whether or not he comes along, and she says yes, she is. Guttorm says fine, they’ll arrive tomorrow before the date and find a table far away, so he can film it. He says it’s too risky if Liv is filming. Liv says that’s exactly what she said 3 seconds ago.

CLIP: Tinder-date (11.10.2017)

Liv and Guttorm are ready for the date, there’s an hour left until Tinder-Anders will arrive. Liv speaks into her phone as they test the sound. Guttorm will be sitting at another table, filming. 

Anders shows up, they hug and say hello. He asks how this usually works, and Liv says she’s never actually been on a Tinder date. He says he hasn’t either, this is his first time. Guttorm makes a face at this comment.

Liv and Anders talk about random stuff. He asks if they should get another beer. While Anders is gone, Guttorm walks over and tells her to get things moving, to flirt with him. Anders returns and they talk and laugh at something stupid. Guttorm turns the camera and says "Wow, Liv. You are horrible at dating."

Anders says they’ve been sitting there a long time. He asks Liv if she wants to go home with him. She says yes. A waiter comes over to Guttorm and asks him if he’s gonna have more to drink. Guttorm says no, so the waiter asks him to pay, as his shift is ending now.

Guttorm is freaking out because Liv and Anders are gone. Liv secretly calls Guttorm from her pocket, while walking home to Anders’ place. She’s asking Anders where he lives and mentioning the street names and parks, trying to give Guttorm clues about where she is. Liv thinks it’s nice to be outside and suggests they go for a walk. Anders says no, she can come upstairs or not.

Liv then asks Anders if he knows someone named Thea? "You were on a Tinder date with her. I just need to ask you some questions about Thea." Guttorm shows up. Anders asks what the hell is going on, is that a camera? He recognizes Guttorm from the bar. Liv just wants to know if Anders was on a date with Thea. Anders asks if this is some kind of trap? Liv presses. Anders says he and Thea were on a date, "if you can call it that". Liv says he said he’d never been on a Tinder date before and Anders says for fucks sake, are you making some kind of hidden camera documentary?

Liv: "What have you done to Thea?" Anders: "Done? I haven’t done shit." He says he met Thea and she was completely out of it, very unpleasant. One minute she was saying that she wanted to travel the world with him, and then she was actually about another guy. She was shaking like a fucking leaf. Or she was high on drugs. Either way, she was crazy, and Anders is glad he never met her again.

Liv doesn’t believe him, but Anders says he doesn’t give a shit. He says they didn’t go anywhere together, Thea followed him after ‘The Egg’. Thea told him she needed a place to sleep, but he said no. Liv asks if anyone can confirm this, if anyone saw him. Anders says his neighbor opened her window when Thea was yelling and making a scene. That’s when Thea left. Anders sarcastically wishes Liv and Guttorm good luck with the movie.

Liv says to Guttorm that they have to get Anders, he’s the one. Guttorm says they’ll figure it out, but not this way.

CLIP: Hvor fikk Thea penger fra? (12.10.2017)

Guttorm asks Liv to summarize what they know so far. Liv says she talked to Anders’ neighbor who confirmed what he said. The neighbor saw Thea leave, so after that the lead goes blind. There are no clues about the laptop, Liv doesn’t know where it is. Thea dropped out of school without telling anyone. The parents don’t seem to care, or at least it doesn’t appear that way to Liv. Liv thinks it’s weird that she didn’t know any of these things. Guttorm says that you don’t always know people as well as you think.

Guttorm wonders where Thea got her money from, since she obviously spends a lot. So she must’ve gotten them from somewhere. He says maybe she was doing something illegal. He asks if Liv found anything else, and she goes into Thea’s room and shows him a bracelet she found behind the bed. It says T <3 S. Liv knows the T is for Thea, but doesn’t know what the S is for. She also found pills: Cipralex and Imovane. The first is anxiety medicine and the second is sleeping pills. Guttorm notices the sleeping pill pack is empty and wonders if… Liv says no, "I checked, and there aren’t enough to, like…"

Flashbacks of Thea and Liv. Thea says she actually gets a lot of matches on Tinder, and she thinks Liv would too. Liv says no. Thea says yes, she would. She says even though Liv is against it, it’s actually fun to try.

The rent lady knocks on Liv’s door. Liv apologizes for not paying enough rent this month. The rent lady is confused and says they paid way too much, she says she’s been trying to tell them all week. Liv doesn’t understand, she says she paid 9000. The rent lady says that she also got 6000 from Thea. Liv is confused, Thea paid rent this month? The rent lady says "yes, of course".

Guttorm tells Liv she needs to find out more. Liv runs after the rent lady and asks if she knows the money is from Thea, or which account the money is from. The rent lady says that it was Trond who paid, "as usual". Liv: "Trond?" Rent lady: "Yes, Thea’s dad, right?"

Liv says to Guttorm that Thea’s dad’s name is Jørn. "Who is Trond who’s paying the rent?"

I can’t promise that I’ll do a recap of every clip, but here you go for now :)

[unclefestive]

A true story about where I spend my summers

So I was going to post this on the @sixpenceee​ story contest thing but I never got my confirmation email so here goes, I’m gonna post it here. 

Trigger warning: Blood and Gore

This story is true. There might be some details I got wrong, but this is stuff that I have grown up seeing.

I don’t have a title for it, so here goes.

I wouldn’t say I scare easily. I grew up in the city. First 10 years in lower Manhattan, ever since then in Brooklyn. I see myself as tougher than the average kid. I spent my summers in a small lake community up in westchester, and I used to go to camp and interact with the locals, so I think I can say with good authority that city kids are tougher.

I know a lot of people say “Oh this story is true,” and then talk about some crazy encounter with a ghost or a demon or something, and you’re sitting there thinking “Wow, I’m spooked, but there’s no way that was real.” I’m telling you in all honesty this is a real story. It actually only happened a couple days ago, so if there’s any updates I’ll be sure to let you know.

So this aforementioned summer community is surrounded by some woods, especially the houses up the hill. We’ve had a lot of animals turn up dead because of a coyote or something. Once we even had a moose running around during the winter when the park was closed. I heard it got run over out on the highway before the season started.

My friends like to joke that this community is like a cult. It’s a really tight knit group of people. Don’t really like outsiders. I remember once I was the main topic of discussion because I brought outside friends up a couple weekends, and that made everyone angry. People I never even talked to confronted my parents about it. A lot of these people don’t have much to do other than sit around and gossip, so nothing really stays a secret. Over the years, there have been some weird occurances.

Like for one, Women’s underwear started going missing. It wasn’t like sexy underwear either. It was tennis underwear, spanx, stuff like that. And it was all stolen from these old ladies. That was probably around 10 years ago. I remember there was a boy, Jack, around my sister’s age (3 or 4 years older than me) who was renting a bungalow that summer. He couldn’t have been older than 11, but because he was an outsider everyone blamed him and basically ran his family out of the community. Needless to say, we never heard from them again. I don’t know if the thefts stopped after he was gone, all I know is that my Dad never believed it was him. I was like 7, I don’t even remember the kid’s face. I couldn’t really grasp what my neighbors did to him, or how it must have made him feel.

Another one was more recently, 3 or 4 years ago. A family came up for the first weekend of the season (I believe there were renovations going on in the park all winter, but not in their house) to find all of the wife’s shampoos and soaps missing, and on their bed a big black dildo. The dildo was sent to the police to try to get a DNA signature off it, but because nothing valuable was stolen, the local police didn’t see it as a priority. There weren’t any signs of forced entry, and the only point of access was a small window that a person couldn’t fit through. People theorized that someone could have opened the window and thrown the dildo onto the bed, but that wouldn’t explain the missing soaps. It’s still a puzzler, and there wasn’t a renter for people to blame.

On top of these weird things, the other kids and I were always convinced the place was haunted. Living in the city, you don’t get to experience any ghosts. In movies and TV it’s always the cabin deep in the forest, or the house on top of the hill that has the demon. Suburbia is haunted to shit. The city is different. You hearing strange footsteps? It’s your upstairs neighbor. Banging on the walls? That’s the couple next door. Everything has a logical explanation when everyone lives in apartments. In the community, our imaginations could run wild. Something going bump in the night had to be the ghost of a disgraced Native American chief, or a homeless man who wandered into the social hall and died. We started a Ghost hunting club and signed our names on the wall. It later turned into the biking club and I was forced out of it. Politics.

Everything that happened we blamed on ghosts. One day there was a huge hole in the door of the boat house that hadn’t been there the day before, that was a ghost. We found an old ornately carved knife propping open a window, that for sure had to be ghosts. The most haunted part, at least to us, was the stairwell to the bathroom.

The downstairs bathroom was absolutely terrifying. I never went in there for fear that my soul would be dragged down to the underworld, or something. It was dark and dirt and smelly, and the worst part was the door leading to the outside with a giant hole at the bottom, big enough for a human to crawl through. A couple years back they renovated it, now it isn’t so scary. It’s actually pretty nice. There’s art on the walls and shit.

During one ghost hunting expedition, we came upon the stairwell door and stopped. We had all collectively decided it was haunted already, so it seemed like the logical place to look. One boy, Jason (I’m changing all the named to maintain privacy), turned to me.

“Ava, you go investigate it.”

Jason was never very nice to me. A lot of the people in the park are related, and I’m not related to anyone but my sister. I think that made me an outsider, and you know how they feel about them. I couldn’t have been older than 7 years old, and I had this really active imagination, so naturally I was the Shaggy of the group. I might have well said “Zoinks!” and refused to do it unless I got a scooby snack. I guess because he was always mean to me, I felt this urge to please him, so I just agreed and walked into the dark.

Well, that was a mistake. As soon as I was in there, Jason shut the door behind me and had his cousins help him hold the door. These were three boys, each 2-3 years older than me, all with 6 packs. I was 80 pounds soaking wet, I had no muscle and I looked like a bobblehead, there was no way I could overpower them. The darkness quickly got to me. At first I was banging on the door, but after about 15 seconds I realized that was fruitless. I curled up in a ball and started screaming and crying, the terror seized every bone in my body. I couldn’t move, I could barely breathe. I realized later that it was my first ever panic attack.

I have some mental health issues. I have anxiety and depression and ADD, so I get panic and anxiety attacks a lot now. I know how to deal with them. When I was a kid I remember not being able to breathe sometimes and hearing people call out my name, and now I know that I was just having panic attacks. When I start hearing voices that aren’t there I know what’s going on, but back then I believed that it was ghost calling out to me. I used to sleep fully under the covers out of fear.

That day in the stairwell, I didn’t hear a voice. I heard footsteps. Creaking footsteps coming up the stairs towards me. I’ve never hallucinated sounds like that, or at least I haven’t yet. So I can’t say whether or not that place is really haunted, all I know is that my mental instability caused me to believe it was until I was 16, when I found out what the voices actually were.

So yeah, weird shit has happened in the past, but nothing compares to what happened this weekend.

Well, I found out about it this weekend. Best guess, it’s been happening for weeks.

There’s a woman (the Grandmother of Jason) who lives kinda on the edge of the woods. She’s found dead animals out by her house before, like I mentioned, we’ve got coyotes. The last 3 were different.

I’m not sure what order she found them in, but there were 3 little animals (could be bunnies could be something else, I don’t know the specifics) that didn’t look like they were eaten by an animal, they looked like they were murdered.

I’m no animal expert, but I’m pretty sure that Coyotes don’t commit murder, they kill to eat. These bunnies weren’t missing any meat.

One had its throat slit, a clean cut, like with a knife.

One had its head severed from its body. I’m not sure if it was chopped off or ripped off, but it was no longer connected.

The last one seems the most gruesome to me. The poor animal’s heart had been torn out. The thing had no other injuries, just a bloody hole where its heart should have been.

You always hear stories of serial killers as kids, they would murder little animals and keep trophies. So at first, I thought it was a little budding serial killer. I guess I was just happy it wasn’t me.

A little background: I’m a bit obsessed with serial killers. I’ve stated that If I was raised in a less stable environment, I would already have a body count. When I watched Dexter I got a little jealous.

So yeah, I guess it could be a baby Gacy. There is another option.

There’s this legend that exists in the park. We all think it was just something that Jason’s Grandfather made up. Or, at least, thought. I’m not so sure anymore.

Jason, his two sisters, and his two cousins used to camp out every memorial day weekend (Sunday to Monday) in search of the Memorial Day Monster.

His parents, his uncle, and his grandfather used to talk about the monster a lot. The story goes that the park used to be owned by one couple and their son. They had a house near the top of the hill, and none of the trees had been cleared out yet so they were surrounded by woods. There wasn’t another house for miles, this was early 20th century, maybe even 19th. I never got a good timeline.

One memorial day, the boy went out exploring. He did this a lot, so there wasn’t much for his parents to worry about. Only this time when he went out, he tripped on a branch, tumbled down a steep hill, and blacked out. When he came to, he found himself in a completely dark and unknown part of the forest to him, with his leg bent at an awful angle. He called out, screamed for help. No one came for him.

Reports vary as to whether or not his parents gathered a search party. Some tellings say they were too busy to care that he was gone. Some say they searched night and day until their eventual deaths.

Reports also vary as to what exactly turned that boy into a monster. He began to live off the land, like an animal. His hair grew long and matted, his teeth became large and sharp, his leg healed in that same position, causing his posture to change and have him run on all fours. It is also said that he can run at incredible speeds. His eyes are said to be completely covered in cataracts, but he is still able to see better than any human, he can also smell your fear from a mile away.

One year Jason received a letter allegedly from the monster. I don’t even remember what it said, I’m sure it was stupid, but it was written in blood. I’m pretty sure that was his Grandpa messing around. I was always sure it was his Grandpa messing around.

I started thinking it couldn’t be a coincidence that these animals were left in front of that house. His Grandpa lives there, his Grandpa is the one that began telling all the stories.

I don’t think I’ll ever find out the truth. Is it a little kid practicing his knife skills? Is it the Memorial Day Monster?

If so, I think the message is clear.

Stop Looking.

[dontshootmespence]

Passive-Aggressive Partnership

@coveofmemories​ Part 1 / Part 2

Part 3

                                                            —–

Spencer walked out to the car, ready to return to the team with the new-yet-old information; the latest victim had suffered the same abuse as the other two. After a short drive back to the Bureau, he parlayed the information he’d learned to the rest of the team. “The first victim was probably killed with the butt of the broken vase we found at the crime scene. As for the other two victims, I think we’ll probably find a trophy of some kind in a dumpster near the crime scenes. The measurements Y/N took of their blunt force injuries show that a trophy with a squared-off base is the most likely candidate for our murder weapon.” For a split second, Garcia beeped into the room, claiming she had found a connection between the three victims. 

“The kind of rage that this unsub had starting with the first victim doesn’t just come out of nowhere,” Hotch started, looking down the hallway as Garcia teetered in on her impossibly-high heels. “When we find him, we’ll undoubtedly uncover other complaints that no one took seriously.”

“As always you are correct, my liege,” Garcia said. “I found a link between the three victims. All three had been frequenting a local career center after being laid off. I used the basics of the profile to narrow down employees, and as I suspected, they were all helped by George Van Der Vennan. If the crime scenes weren’t so unbelievably brutal, I might actually feel bad for him, but I can’t because he’s a horrible human being. I just don’t understand why people do the things they do. I mean...”

“Penelope,” Hotch said sternly.

“Right, sir. Sorry. Anyway, Van Der Vennan is 41 years old and currently lives with his 67-year-old aunt Betty. He was raised by a single mother, Betty’s younger sister Margaret, who had George at the age of 18; she’s since overdosed on heroin. In order to make ends meet, she worked part-time as a cashier and part-time as a hairdresser, which was my first indication because Y/N said that the weapon used for the sexual assault was likely a curling iron, right?” she asked, turning toward Spencer. With his confirmation, she continued. “CPS was called on more than one occasion because the neighbors claimed they could hear screaming, but every time they arrived, George would say that there was nothing wrong and the authorities would leave. The nail in the proverbial coffin? I looked up a picture of his mother and she has a very distinctive nose. If the blunt force is to their noses, it makes sense that his own mother has a peculiar-looking nose...right?”

Morgan put his arm around Garcia’s shoulder, pulling her into his embrace so he could kiss her on the head. “That’s our guy. You have an address?”

“Do I? Do I have an address?” she asked, her blonde hair bouncing as she feigned hurt. “Of course I do.” After handing Morgan the address, the team was out the door in flash. Hopefully, Van Der Vennan hadn’t already picked out his next victim. 

                                                           —–

“George Van Der Vennan,” Morgan screamed as he knocked on the door, his gun cocked and ready to shoot. “Open up!” Instead of a gentleman around his age, an elderly woman, presumably his aunt, opened up, claiming that her nephew was down in the basement. 

“What did he do?” she asked meekly as the rest of the team shuffled in behind Morgan and started down the stairs to the unsub. She really had no clue. It was amazing how family could be so oblivious to the troubles of their loved ones. Undoubtedly, she was aware of the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of her sister, but judging by the look in her eyes, she had no inkling that he was up to anything sinister. 

As the last one down the stairs, Spencer watched, gun at the ready as Morgan called for him to stand up. Van Der Vennan glanced quickly at the basement window, probably wondering if he should try and make a break for it, but with six federal agents training their weapons on him, he had no chance, and he knew it. When he turned around, Morgan crossed the room, handcuffing his arms tightly behind his back.

After so many years with the Bureau, Spencer unfortunately knew what made these unsays tick, but on occasion, their savagery still took him by surprise. Morgan made his way up the stairs with Van Der Vennan, but he stopped himself dead in the center of the staircase, turning to read with the deadest of eyes. “She had to pay.”

“They weren’t your mother,” he said, knowing what the deranged man meant; he hated that he knew without clarification. “They were innocent young women that came to you for help.”

“Well they made a mistake then, didn’t they?” he said calmly, with the slightest smirk of knowing that betrayed his attempt at an insanity plea.

Spencer shoved him in the back up the rest of the stairs, swallowing hard as he went down to where the man lived. Morgan, Rossi and JJ went up with the unsub to handle things on that end, while Spencer, Emily and Hotch stayed downstairs to look for the assault weapon. 

The hiding space he’d kept it in was almost cliched. Conspicuously hidden in a box under the bed was an older model curling iron. From the looks of it, it hadn’t been used for its intended purpose for years. Hotch held out an evidence bag as Spencer dumped the iron wand into it, handing it off to JJ so that she could close it. “Mrs. Van Der Vennan?” JJ asked once they returned upstairs. “Do you recognize this?”

At the sight of the wand, the woman started to cry. “That was my sister’s favorite curling iron she used at work,” she croaked. “It was the one she used to hit him with. I couldn’t do anything to help him. I’m so sorry.”

“This is not your fault,” JJ said, placing her hand on her shoulder.

After handing over the evidence and the unsub to the local authorities, the team headed back to the Bureau to finish up their paperwork for the night. It turned out the only one who actually stayed was Hotch. Everyone else was too tired, sleepily walking out of the bullpen thankful that they’d stopped Van Der Vennan before he had a chance to hurt anyone else.

                                                         —–

The case was over.

The adult in Spencer wanted to go and talk to Y/N - ask her what happened and what it meant - if anything.

The child in him however wanted to avoid all awkwardness, go home, go to bed, and forget this ever happened. 

But the adult won out. Before driving toward her office, he texted her to see if she was still there. Thank god she was, because he just wanted to get this awkwardness over it and either do something about it or forget it entirely. “Hello Y/N,” he said, opening the door to the dimly lit room. Apparently, she was also finishing up paperwork for the case.

When she looked up, something had changed. The eyes that had looked so hard in the past looked softer now, but he honestly wasn’t sure if that was because his brain was looking for something or because there actually was a change in her. “You caught him, right?”

“Yea, thankfully,” he stuttered. “When we looked in his basement we found the name of his new clients, so he was definitely not going to stop.”

“The nature of the business, I guess,” she said, taking a deep breath and stilling the pen on the paper. He could see she was tired, whether it was just tonight or the job in general he wasn’t quite sure. He was about to bring things up, when she saved him the trouble. “What exactly happened the other day?”

Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but at first nothing came out. “I don’t know. I was pretty sure we hated each other. But that night, it sure didn’t feel like it.”

“Me too,” she chuckled, putting her paperwork in a lockable drawer for the night. “I can’t take anymore tonight. I need to go home. Another question. Do you regret what happened?”

“No,” he said honestly and without thought. When he stopped to think about, he realized he didn’t. Maybe they clashed so much because they were more alike than they wanted to admit. “No, I don’t. Do you?”

Reaching behind him toward the coat hook, she grabbed her peacoat and hung up the clinical lab coat. “No. In addition to your big brain and hot bod, you’re a good kisser. But I am wary about taking this any further. Given that we work together, I mean.”

“You know a recent study has shown that nearly 15 percent of people meet their long-term significant others at work,” he said without thinking. Of course he would know that. “And you think I’m hot?”

She laughed as they walked outside into the cool night air. As she tugged her coat tighter around her body, she said it again. “Of course I think you’re hot. Who doesn’t?”

“Everyone.”

“You don’t see the way people look at you, Dr. Reid,” she replied. “Let’s try this. Kiss me again. If we both feel the way we did the other day, we’ll try a date. If not, we won’t.”

They stepped next to her car and he opened the door, bringing his hand to the right side of her face and leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. Much more tender than the other night. A sigh escaped her as their lips met and in response her hand snaked its way around his waist. “Tomorrow night?” she whispered after breaking the kiss. 

“I’ll probably be in the office late tomorrow night,” he said regretfully. “But the night after?”

“Difficult as always, Dr. Reid.”

“S- Spencer,” he stammered. “Please, call me Spencer.”

“Difficult as always, Spencer,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you then.”