#the other two were kind of no brainers any others in their pool i wanted i already have

[ribbonbonny]

by god they werent lying when they said that fantina grid expansion made her powerful homegirl legit melted through uxie. and that was with only sycamore and fucking blaine as party members

[luthorao3]

Hey babe, could I get a "You're cold. Come here" for foxxay, please?

And 100% you do the build up to the big moments better than anyone I know, bitch

I hope you're feeling better 💖

darling <3 i would move the moon for you were it in my power! i'm setting this vaguely within the Camomile and Chlorine AU setting simply because i can and i have missed it kind of dearly.

Dusk, and the air pools like tepid water in around Cordelia’s ankles.

“Pick a hand,” Misty tells her, and holds out two closed fists. “Any hand.”

They’re sitting at Myrtle’s wicker bench set, one on either side and facing each other. One of Misty’s legs swings back-and-forth beneath the table, occasionally bumping Cordelia’s shin – cool where she’s removed her shoes. Their empty dinner plates have been stacked to one side, a candle burns just off-centre, and the cicadas chirp their mellow music to herald in the night. Cordelia tucks a hand around her wine glass, the other just beneath her chin. She eyes Misty’s closed fists with a quiet kind of intrigue.

“What’s in them?”

“In this one,” Misty says, shaking her right fist, “are all your hopes and dreams.”

Laughter bubbles up from Cordelia’s belly before she can think to hold it back.

“And in the other,” Misty says, eyes narrowed, pointedly ignoring her, “is everything that you tell yourself is more important. Work. Job. Career.”

“They’re all the same thing—”

“Reputation,” Misty talks over her, prompting Cordelia to laugh again. While she makes a valiant attempt to hold back her own amusement, she's clearly straining to keep her expression neutral. “Money. You know what I mean. All that stuff society tells you is important. Shit, I don’t know… a fancy car.”

“Okay,” Cordelia agrees, tucking a smile into her glass.

“So,” Misty says, and nods expectantly.

“So?”

“Why, how much have you had to drink, darlin’? Pick one.”

The pet name rolls off her tongue like it’s nothing, meant to tease, to jab, a barb against Cordelia’s inability to keep up with the way that Misty’s thoughts spiral into one another, and yet— Cordelia prays the night is too deep, the light from their candle too weak, to show the true extent of her blush. She takes another sip of wine. She clears her throat, twice.

“Well,” finally, eyeing Misty’s hands and not the amusement that dances like a will-o-the-wisp inside her eyes, “that seems like a silly question.”

“It’s absolutely not,” Misty insists, “but tell me why.”

“The answer’s obvious, isn’t it? The second option makes the first option achievable.” When Misty’s expression cracks with a frown, Cordelia elaborates: “Money. A successful career. I’d be able to build my life exactly how I want it – my house, my lifestyle, my travel… my brand new fancy car. It seems like it’s a no-brainer.”

Misty nods, expression guarded.

“But,” Cordelia says, and lowers her glass to the table. “But the way you said it, the two options you gave me, you make it sound like that second option doesn’t already include all my hopes and dreams. You make it sound like they can’t be mutually exclusive.”

“Huh. I guess I did.”

If Cordelia didn’t know better – if Cordelia had, perhaps, not already finished that first glass of wine – she’d call Misty’s expression knowing.

“Which suggests,” Cordelia continues, “that there’s something else I want. Some other… hope or dream. Something I’d want more than financial security, or a nice house, or a successful career. Some other, secret wish I’ve been hiding, maybe.” A giddy pulse trembles through her veins, but where Cordelia had meant to tease, she only finds herself wondering – if, perhaps, she’s accidentally hit some kind of mark that she’d never even known to aim for. “Something… better.”

Across from her, limned in silver, Misty tilts her head ever so carefully to one side and catches starlight in her eyes.

For a heartbeat, Cordelia loses her breath and her train of thought.

“So,” Misty says again, and emphasises both fists still held aloft, waiting for Cordelia’s answer. “What’s the verdict?”

Cordelia holds her gaze for a spell longer, asking herself that same question.

And maybe she’s a little tipsy. Maybe it’s the night time air and the spell that it casts over her, sometimes, filling her lungs and her head with fancy. Maybe it’s just because it’s Misty asking, and if Cordelia can be her true self with anybody, if she can expose the bones and bricks of herself, the foundations, the roots so deep even she may be looking upon them for the first time, she knows she’s at least in safe company.

Maybe it’s just a game and it doesn’t have to be that deep.  

But when she reaches out to pick a hand, there is no hesitation.

Her fingers settle over Misty’s right fist, a barely-there weight and yet heavy as an anchor. A declaration of intention. A promise. A secret.

“Jesus!” Misty hisses, and the moment bursts like the pressure equalising inside Cordelia’s ears.

She almost manages to draw her hand away before Misty is capturing it between both her own.

“You’re cold. Come here.”

Cordelia hesitates just long enough for Misty to tug on her hand, to threaten to pull her over the table herself, and then Cordelia is standing, losing Misty’s touch, making her way around the table. Misty shifts up the bench and does not hesitate to draw Cordelia into the warm spot she’s just vacated, to wrap her arms around her and rock the pair of them, laughing, from side to side.

Then their laughter calms, and the rocking stops, and they’re still sitting with their arms about each other, daring the chill air to part them.

Misty tucks her cheek against Cordelia’s shoulder and muffles her yawn.

“What is it, anyway?” she asks, blinking the moisture from her eyes. “This big, secret hope-and-or-dream you’re hiding from me?”

Cordelia’s smile is a private thing, hidden, at this angle, from Misty’s wondering gaze.

She feels very full of something. Something warm and bright and electric. Something that sparks inside her belly and makes her want to laugh, again, that she has to clamp her teeth around the soft inside of her cheek to keep it down. Repressing it makes her muscles shake, which Misty only mistakes as a shiver and holds her ever tighter.

“I don’t know… maybe I don’t have a name for it, yet.”

“Maybe you’ll tell me, when you do,” Misty whispers, and Cordelia relaxes in her arms.

Maybe I already have.

[serendipitouswasteland]

So Put on Your Best, Boys, and I'll Wear My Pearls

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: buddie pov: third person written: March 25, 2022 first published: March 26, 2022 word count: 7,926 - summary: Buck has always wanted a daughter. He loves kids, that's a fact. He loves Christopher, also a fact. He loves being a dad, fact number three. Still, he wants a daughter. He always will, but he knows that what he has is enough. That is, until a family of three is involved in a car crash and a newborn baby girl is the sole survivor, causing Buck to reflect a lot on the life that he has. - A/N: There's some minor detail covering the adoption process, which I'm basing off my own family's experience with it and from the understanding of it that I have within my state, so if it's not exactly how it works in California, then that's why.

Buck leans over, kissing Eddie on his lips slowly, smiling as he pulls away. He goes back in, only giving him a small peck this time. Being with Eddie is one of the three greatest joys in his life. First is his job. That's a no-brainer. Second is Christopher. That kid is his pride and joy. Never is there a moment where he questions his role in Christopher's life. That's his son, through and through, just the same as he is Eddie's. Third is Eddie. Buck's never loved anyone quite the way he loves Eddie. Something about it is so much stronger, so much deeper than any love that he's felt for anyone else. He's so glad that it's reciprocated.

"Buck," Eddie says just as Buck is about to walk away.

"What is it?" Buck asks, getting on his knees next to Eddie, who's sitting in a chair at the table, so they're at a more even level.

"I think we should go out."

"What, like, tonight?"

"No, not tonight. I wouldn't want to spring babysitting on Carla or Maddie or Hen– anyone, really– at such short notice. After our next shift, maybe. Soon."

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" Buck asks, but then lights are flashing and alarms are blaring, and their conversation is cut short.

Eddie sighs, giving Buck a kiss on the cheek as he gets up, the two jogging off the rig together. They sit next to each other in the truck, holding hands as they lean close to one another. They are so attached, not only to each other but the love that they have and that they share. Chim raises his brow at them, then turning to Hen, giving him the same defeated look she always does when it comes to Buck and Eddie.

"Why do you two have the same look on your faces as when you decided you were getting married?" Chim asks, and Eddie and Buck look at each other before looking out opposite windows.

"Oh, you know, just planning our next date night," Eddie says, Buck giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, speaking of," Buck says, "you never did say where you wanted to go."

"How does poker sound?" Eddie asks, and Buck grins as big as he can, shaking his head.

"No way," Buck says, leaning close to Eddie. "That's reserved for special occasions only."

"Mmm, like what?" Eddie asks, giving Buck a cheeky grin. "'Cause last time I checked it's been two years since that night and we still have yet to go to a poker game again."

"Exactly. You have to be like Taylor Swift. Use it as your dating pool and never go back. Only hers was with the Met Gala."

"I'm sorry, why do you know that?" Hen asks.

"May is a big fan," Buck says, and Eddie laughs a little. "What's so funny?"

"It's just that our house isn't exactly 'Taylor-free'. I've caught you listening to, what's that one? The one about blood and war and..."

"It's called Great War, and I wouldn't be listening to it if you hadn't gotten yourself shot, so this is kind of your fault."

"Oh? We're making jokes about that now?" Eddie asks, both men smiling big and wide.

"Someone has to."

"Well—"

"Oh my god, stop it," Bobby says, and Hen and Chimney both laugh. "We get it. You're married. Move on."

"Hey now, that's not very nice of you Bobby," Eddie says, and Buck quirks his brow at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Buck says with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well it's certainly something. 'Nothing' wouldn't have you smiling like that."

"It's just that—"

"You sound like Buck," Hen, Chimney, and Bobby all say at the same time, and Buck swallows.

"Yeah. You sound like me."

"I blame the fact that I both live and work with you now. I can never get a moment to myself. You're always talking and going on about something. What was that thing you were talking about last night? Uh, it had the– the thing with those girls that were dancing, and this one lady was super bitchy from the way you described her, and competitions, and—"

"Dance Moms," Buck says, and Eddie nods.

"Yeah, that. You were going on and on about how the one girl deserved to get a higher placement or whatever but that the bitchy lady or whoever shouldn't have been going so hard on the girl for not doing good enough. Oh, what was her name..."

"Abby Lee."

"Right, right. Yeah, you were just going on and on, and I was just...I was so frustrated with Abuela because I told her already that I would come by after this shift ends to fix up her railing that broke on her steps, but then the phone call didn't end. I mean, I love my abuela, but sometimes I just need her to stop talking. She was just talking about everything, and so my mind needed a break. That's why I decided to go to the kitchen and make Christopher's lunch for today: so I could have some peace and quiet for a few minutes, but of course Buck came in and was talking my ear off after having put Christopher to bed, and—"

"You still sound like him," Hen says, and it's Buck's turn to laugh.

"What? No he does...huh. Do I really sound like that?"

"Yes," They all say, and Buck smiles.

"Good to know."

They arrive at the scene. A four-way. Three car pile-up. There's a man helping a woman out of the passenger seat of one of the car's both seeming to only have minor injuries from afar. By another car, a man is on the phone, and Buck assumes that he's yelling at either his insurance company or a 9-1-1 operator. He'd have to check in with Maddie later. Then, he hears it. it's faint at first, but then it becomes so glaringly loud and clear. A baby's cry. Buck runs straight to the third car, which no one has gotten out of. It's upside down, the baby strapped securely to it's carseat. Buck's heart almost stops.

The baby is wearing a white beanie, white shoes, a white jacket, and white stockings, while having on a dark pink tutu and a long-sleeved, light pink shirt to go with. She's crying, and she looks terrified. Buck's hands immediately go to unclip her from the carseat as he inhales the scent of leaking gasoline. Thankfully, the mechanisms on the carseat still work and the baby comes out with ease, falling into Buck's arms. He holds her close as he makes his quick getaway, the car catching fire not a moment later.

Buck stops short just in front of Eddie, who's staring at the baby he's holding in his arms. They look at each other, Eddie's hand coming up to caress Buck's face and then the baby's. There was an unspoken understanding between them already. Buck has always wanted a daughter. He loves kids, that's a fact. He loves Christopher, also a fact. He loves being a dad, fact number three. Still, he wants a daughter. He always has, and he always will, no matter how much he knows and feels just Chris and Eddie are enough.

"Go help Bobby," Buck says, and Eddie nods, leaving Buck's side and going into firefighter mode.

Buck takes the baby over to Hen while Chimney goes to Eddie and Bobby's aide. Hen checks the baby for anything that could possibly be wrong, but there's nothing. The baby is as healthy as can be. Still, she's crying, so Buck picks her up again and begins to rock her in his arms. He stays at the ambulance with her for the entire call, even refusing Athena's offer to take over when she arrives to take statements. Bobby approaches him when they're about to leave, and Buck doesn't want to hear what he's about to say.

"You and babies," Bobby says, and Buck tries to smile, but he can't. Not when this baby no longer has a mom or a dad.

"What are we gonna do?" Buck asks, looking down at the baby as she lies, now asleep, in his arms.

"We are going to do nothing. The baby will go into the system, and—"

"No," Buck says, holding the baby close. "No. No, I won't let them– they can't– the system is messed up."

"I know it is, but Buck, it's the law. That's not something that we can interfere with."

"So I just leave her?" Buck asks, a sadness in his voice. Bobby shakes his head, leading Buck back to the firetruck.

"No. We bring her with us back to the station, and some time during our shift Child Protective Services will come by to talk with me, and then we'll hand the baby over to them and they'll do their thing. That's how this works, Buck. You should know that by now."

"No. No, I do. I do know that, it's just—"

"Buck?" Eddie asks as he finishes putting his gear away. "Hey, babe, are you okay?"

"I'm– I'm fine, it's just—"

"He's not fine, Eddie," Bobby says, climbing into the engine.

"Buck?" Eddie asks, and Buck only then looks away from the baby.

"I want a daughter so bad," Buck says, and Eddie does his best to give Buck a hug without squishing the baby.

"I know. I know you do," Eddie says, patting Buck on the back after hugging him. "How about we go back to the station, wait for CPS to arrive, and then go from there, okay? Can we please take it one step at a time?"

"Yeah," Buck says, nodding as he holds back tears. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

Buck is with Bobby the entire time he recounts the incident to the CPS lady. He sits there, still holding the baby in his harms, having been the one to watch over her the entire time they waited for someone from CPS to arrive. She had woken up during the ride back to the firehouse, and was awake the entire time they were there until a few minutes before the woman had arrived to take her away. Now, she's asleep in Buck's arms again as Buck sits in one of the extra chairs in Bobby's office, simply listening.

"Really, Buck here is the reason this baby is alive. He heard her crying and didn't waste a second in going and saving her. He's been with her since, not once having left her side."

"Well, I've given her to Eddie when I've had to go to the bathroom, and when I helped you cook, but yeah, pretty much."

"Still. Even when you were cooking with me, you made Eddie sit right across from us at the bar counter. I'm pretty sure I heard you 'threaten' him."

"You threatened your coworker?" The CPS lady asks, and Buck is slightly startled by her presence, or moreso the fact that she actually realized he was there.

"He's not just my coworker, he's my husband," Buck says, and it takes him a second to realize that's not the part he should be focusing on, adding, "Also, I did not threaten him. I told him to sit at the bar counter with the baby or I wouldn't give him any kisses until our shift ends."

"His exact words were 'Eddie, if you do not sit your ass at that bar counter, so help me god, because I will walk out of here with that baby in my arms faster than you can recite our vows word for word– which I know you have memorized– and you won't be getting any kisses until we get home'."

"Well..." Buck says, shrugging his shoulders a little.

"You clearly already have a clear attachment to her," the CPS lady says, and Buck nods once, looking to Bobby for encouragement.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I've sort of always wanted a baby girl, so any time there's one involved, I just– does she have any family left? I know that's who you guys go to first, so if there is then I'd– I'd like to be there when they take her in. You know, just to make sure that she's okay."

"Uh, Mr. Buckley—"

"Diaz. It's Buck Diaz. I don't go by Buckley anymore."

"Oh, I just thought since your nametag—"

"Yeah, uh, my new one just hasn't come in yet."

"So you're first name is Buck, then?"

"No? I mean, I don't ever get called my real first name except for when my parents come around. Everyone else just calls me 'Buck'. Well, except for Eddie and Chris. Chris calls me Pops, and Eddie sometimes calls me Pops when he's talking to Chris or when the three of us are in a room together. Other times he'll call me a random pet name. The first one he ever called me was 'cowboy'. That was right before I got struck by lightning. Then when I came out of my coma he called me 'sir'. Now that I think about it, those should have been my first sign. Huh. Anyways, why do we care what my name is?"

"It's just that, legally, I'm not sure that the system allows for what you're asking," the CPS lady says, and Buck nods, swallowing harshly.

"Right. Yeah. No, I mean, it was a silly thought anyway...um, I guess I should hand her over to you, then?"

"If you would, yes, please."

Buck looks down at the baby as she lies in his arms. He sucks in a deep, shaky inhale, blinking back a few tears as he hands her over to the CPS lady. He has to look away for a moment when he gets out of his chair to leave.

"Uh," he says, clearing his throat, "make sure that her living family is good people."

"We always do."

Buck nods, clearing his throat once more before leaving Bobby's office. He goes straight to the locker room, pulling out his phone as he sits down on the bench. He dials Maddie's number, trying his best not to cry. She answers almost instantly, knowing that Buck wouldn't be calling her while they're both on shift if it wasn't important. The second he hears the worry in his voice, he breaks down, unable to hold back his tears any longer. At the sound of his sobs, Maddie's voice immediately turns to soothing him, saying the perfect things to calm him down and actually get him to talk to her.

"There was a baby," Buck says, sniffling. "She was in her carseat and her parents were in the front seats. There was a three-car pile-up. Their car rolled. Both of her parents died. She's the only one who lived."

"Oh my god, Buck...is the baby alright? What are they going to do for her?"

"Uh, she has some family left in town. Her grandparents. She's lucky," Buck says, putting his phone on speaker as he sets it on the bench next to him, but Maddie can see right through him.

"You got attached, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Mads, I did, and it was so stupid because I knew this was going to happen, but—"

"Hey, no, Buck, it's alright. You being you is not stupid. I'm sure that baby appreciated it, right? So what's really going on here?"

"He wants a daughter of his own," a voice says, and Buck turns to find Eddie leaning against the doorway.

"Is that Eddie?" Maddie asks.

"Y– yeah. Yeah, it's Eddie," Buck says before turning his words toward Eddie. "What– what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Eddie says, coming and sitting by Buck's side. "Hey Maddie, mind if I steal your brother off the phone?"

"Not at all," she says, hear smile being able to be heard through the device. "Call me later?"

She says it to Buck, but he doesn't answer, opting for silence, so Eddie responds instead. "I'll make sure he does."

The call ends, Buck not looking away from where the lockers meet the floor. Eddie intertwines their fingers, clasping their hands together. There were so many things that Buck could say. Any number of them, though, he knows would sound selfish in some way, and he doesn't want to spring that on Eddie. He's kept it inside this long, he can keep it in longer. Even at death's door, he'll keep it with him.

"So," Eddie says, and Buck looks up, waiting for him to continue, "are you going to talk to me?"

"No," Buck says, and Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because, Buck. Your refusal to talk to me about this is kinda funny. I mean, you would think that me being your husband and all and having a kid with you that you'd trust me enough to talk to me about it, but you don't. I don't get it."

"That's the thing, Eddie. I do trust you. I just don't want to make you feel obligated to fulfill my wants and my wishes. Bringing a newborn baby into this family, Eddie...you'd be restarting the clock."

"No I wouldn't," Eddie says, but Buck isn't having it.

"Yes you would. You've been doing this four fourteen years, even if some of those were while you were away and overseas, okay? Fourteen years, Eddie. You're almost done. I'm not letting you hit the redo button—"

"Buck, you're not listening to me. I wouldn't be redoing anything, alright? Fact is, you're never done being a parent. Just because your child turns eighteen and becomes an adult doesn't mean that you're 'out'. It doesn't mean that you're done. They will still always be your child. Adding another only means adding the amount of years you'll have spent raising children, but I'm not redoing anything. I'd just be starting something with you."

"Eddie—"

"No. I don't want to hear it, Buck. We are in this together, alright? If you want a daughter, then we'll look into it," Eddie says, resting his head against Buck's. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The adoption process isn't easy. There's lots of trainings that both Eddie and Buck have to go through, causing the next several months of their lives to become absolutely draining. With their jobs, it makes it even more difficult to sign up for the different trainings that are required before a child can be put in their care. There's at least one night each week where they have to call Carla or drop Christopher off with Maddie and Chim or Karen and Hen or Bobby and Athena. There's background checks, fingerprinting, TB tests, interviews– even Chris has to go through those. Then there's the paperwork. There's so much paperwork. Within six months, though, they get it all done.

Chandler. An eight month-old baby girl who was put into the system the moment she was born. She's never had an actual family of her own. Granted, she wouldn't remember if she had, but the thought is enough to make Buck nearly break when he first holds her in his arms. Legally, they have to wait another six months before being able to officially adopt her into the family, with monthly visits from a case worker, and then once all the paperwork is done for the adoption to become legalized, nothing. Just their family of four.

When the date arrives, Buck is nervous. He wants so desperately for it to just be done already so he can go back home and hold Chandler in his arms while he cooks Eddie, Chris, and himself dinner. He wants to hold her in his arms while they sit down to have dinner as a family. He wants to hold her in his arms all the time and never let her go. Despite it only having been six months, Buck already knows that his love for Chandler outweighs anything else. Eddie knows, too, and so does Chris, but it only makes their love for him grow.

"Are you alright?" Eddie asks as he take's Buck's shaky hands in his, finishing buttoning up his shirt for him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Buck says. "I just hope nothing goes wrong."

"I'm sure that everything will be fine. We've had her in our home for six months with no problems whatsoever. Besides, it's clear that you love that baby more than anything else in the world– even by some miracle, our job."

"I don't know about that."

"Buck, you have never called off of work a day in your life for anything, yet you called off today and made me call off too so that we didn't have to wait any longer since this was the soonest the adoption could be legalized. You're telling me you love the job more than her?"

"Okay, so maybe I do love her more than anything. Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Eddie says, smoothing out Buck's collar and giving him a kiss. "No it's not."

Just as Eddie said things would, everything goes exactly right. Chandler is officially, legally, a part of their family. Buck sits in the back of the car with Christopher, playing with chandler in her carseat while Eddie sits alone up front on the drive home. He cradles her in his arms as they go inside, checking the time and going straight to the kitchen to start working on dinner. He can hear Eddie and Christopher having a conversation, but can't make out the words. Then Eddie is pulling two beers out of the fridge, popping them open and setting it on the counter, keeping the other to himself.

"Full circle," Eddie says, taking a sip from his bottle.

"You mean because today marks one year since the pile-up?"

"Yeah. I didn't realize it until you started crying in the courtroom earlier. That's why you called off, isn't it? That's why it had to be today?"

"Are you going to tell me that I need to talk to my therapist about this? If you are, then you should know that she actually encouraged me in all of this. She said that she can tell that I love Chandler more than anything else in this world, and that even if she didn't think it was a good idea for it to happen today that she knows I wouldn't have listened."

"And what was your response?"

"I said 'I don't know about more than anything', which led to her reading me talking about you and Chris and the job versus Chandler, which then made me sad and I had a mental breakdown, which she helped me through, and I was just a mess because I do love you, you know? I haven't ever had a romantic love for someone the way I do for you. You are my one true love, Eddie. She even agreed with me on that. She said there was no doubt about it. She also said, though, that every parent has a favorite, even if they don't voice it, and sometimes that favorite is their partner, and others it's actually one of the kids. Case in point, me and Chandler. You know, she's a real wise woman."

"Expensive, too," Eddie says, and they both laugh.

"Hey, you can't talk. Frank isn't exactly cheap, either."

"Cheaper than yours," Eddie says, giving Buck a kiss on the cheek as he goes to look at some bills sitting on the table.

"Speaking of expenses," Buck says, flipping the pancakes that he's making, "do you think we'd be able to buy a house?"

"Uh, yeah, if you can win the lottery."

"What about rent to buy?"

"We'll look into it," Eddie says, and Buck smiles.

"Last time you said that we ended up with a baby."

"She's fourteen months, Buck. I hardly think that counts as a baby."

"You see, that's where you're wrong. Ages zero to one are considered infants, while ages two to three are considered toddlers. She's not a toddler yet, therefore she is still a baby."

"Uh-huh," Eddie says, smiling and taking a sip of his beer. "Just know, she's not going to be little forever."

Eddie was right. Chandler wasn't a baby forever. From the time she was first placed with the Diaz family and for the next sixteen months, Buck would dress her up in the cutest outfits imaginable. Then, on her second birthday, they started giving her options of outfits. All still highly adorable, but she never chose Buck's favorite. He didn't mind, though, because on the days he and Eddie didn't work he would spend all day with Chandler, spoiling her rotten.

When she turned three, Buck had saved enough money at that point to make a family trip to Disneyland. They were eligible resident offer, but with them also getting park hopper tickets, it was still fairly expensive. Thankfully, the three days they used the tickets were during Buck and Eddie's mandatory four day off-period. Buck too Chandler on every ride that day that she wanted, not saying no to a single one unless she wasn't able to because of the park's rules. He bought her all of the things that caught her eye, burning a hole in his pocket, but at the time he didn't care. The only thought on his mind was putting a smile on Chandler's face.

Once a week, their family gets together with the Grant-Nash household and the Buckley-Han household, having a family dinner. Those nights, Buck wants to go play with the kids just to be around Chandler, but he doesn't, watching from afar with everyone else. The thing about that, though, is that he watches Christopher with Chandler, and he leans his head on Eddie's shoulder every time, whispering to him to look at their kids and the love they have for each other. Every time, Eddie simply kisses Buck's forehead, running a hand through his husband's hair as his arm is wrapped around his shoulder.

Chandler's first year of school is Christopher's first year in college. While Eddie watches Buck struggle with letting Chandler go to school for the first time ever, Buck watches Eddie struggle with not being the one to take Chris to and from campus every day. They watch as the other just wants to hold onto their children as long as they possibly can and never let them go. Every day after school, Buck gives Chandler the biggest hug ever. During dinner every night, they facetime with Chris just to give Eddie piece of mind, even if Eddie is hogging the phone almost the entire time, barely letting Buck and Chandler get two words in (not that Chandler says much, anyway, being slightly camera shy).

For Chandler's tenth birthday, Buck throws her the biggest party ever. Chris helps a ton, just having graduated college. He and Buck just keep getting closer, and Eddie revels in watching his two favorite boys bond over their favorite girl. The pre-teen years are rough. Middle school is rough. Chandler spends a lot of time with Maddie, going and getting their nails done and going shopping together with her and Jee-Yun who are, really, just two peas in a pod. May comes over a lot and Eddie and Buck can sometimes hear Chandler telling May about her most recent crush. There's one night, though, that Chandler's door is cracked open, and Buck goes to tell them dinner is ready when he sees Chandler crying in May's arms. He knocks on the door lightly, opening it all the way when May nods him in.

"Hey, angel," Buck says, getting down on his knees at the foot of her bed. "What's going on? Why are you crying?"

"I don't want to tell you," Chandler says, and May frowns a bit.

"She's just had a rough day, Buck."

"Okay, well, what happened?"

"Nothing," May says, shaking her head. "It's not that something happened. Not to her, anyway. It's just...she'll tell you when she's ready, okay?"

"Okay, well, dinner's ready."

As it turns out, that was the day she saw her crush holding hands in the hallway with someone else. Buck didn't find out until two weeks later during dinner when Eddie brought it up. It stung.

"Wait, is this the same kid you saw holding hands with someone else?"

"No, Dad. That was someone else."

"Wait, what?" Buck asks, confused. "You never told me about that."

"She didn't?" Eddie asks, and Buck shakes his head.

"I didn't want you to be disappointed in me," Chandler says, and Buck frowns.

"Sweetheart, I could never be disappointed in you. You are my sweet angel, and I would never think poorly of you at all, ever. Okay?"

Chandler simply nodded at Buck's words, leaving him slightly baffled. As she got older, she only kept things about her love life from Buck even more. Half the time he felt like she didn't trust him. One night, climbing into bed with Eddie, Buck finally voiced his concerns.

"Do you think Chandler trusts me?" He asked, sitting upright.

"Uh, yes? Why do you ask?"

"It's just that, you know, she's always going to you and May and Maddie and even Chris about her relationship stuff before me. I mean, what advice do you guys give that I don't?"

"Buck, hun, I think it has less to do with her not trusting you and more with you not trusting any kids at her school."

"What?"

"Do you remember the first dance her sixth grade year? The date she had?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"He ghosted her after the dance, and when she found out why it was because the poor kid was scared of you. Now, I'm not saying that you weren't right to be concerned, because I didn't quite like him either, but if we don't let her have the experiences without our interference, how is she ever going to learn what's good for her? Who is good for her?"

"Huh. I guess I never thought about it that way before."

"Clearly."

Eddie gave Buck a kiss on the lips before turning off their bedside lamps and pulling him close. Buck wouldn't be able to sleep that night. He'd be too focused on the fact that his favorite person in the world wouldn't talk to him about the important things going on in her life.

One day Buck will never forget is Chandler's first day of high school. She refused to let anyone other than Christopher take her to school, claiming that he had the best understanding of what was going on in her life and would be best equipped to help her through any first-day anxiety that she might have. She ended up being right, because she came home happy as a bee, kissing Buck on the cheek the second she stepped in the house and giving him a big hug.

"I take it your first day at school was good?" Eddie asked as she came and gave him a hug, too.

"It was alright. I have something I want to tell you guys during dinner, but right now I'm going to facetime Aunt May. Bye!"

Then, she ran off to her room, leaving Eddie and Buck in the kitchen together, stunned. Dinner started out normal. Chandler didn't lead on that anything had happened earlier at all. It made Buck worried, like perhaps she's changed her mind and didn't want to tell them anymore. Then, she got up to get seconds, and both Eddie and Buck stopped her.

"First," Eddie said, "what did you have to tell us?"

"Right," Chandler said, and Buck could see her instant anxiety.

"It's alright, angel. Whatever it is, you can tell us."

"No, I know, it's just...I mean, I know you guys are friends with Hen and Karen," she'd said as she began to ramble, and Eddie and Buck gave each other a look that told them they both knew where this was going, "and they're married and whatever, which is cool, but that's different, you know? They're your friends. That's a choice you're making. With me, you don't get a choice. You're stuck with me. That's why it's so hard to say."

"Uh, sweetheart, whatever it is, whatever you have to tell us, we'll still love you the same," Buck had said, taking her hand in his. "We– I– will always love you, no matter what."

"I have a girlfriend," she says plainly, sitting back in her seat. "Can I have seconds now?"

"Uh, yeah," Buck said, letting go of her hand. "Yeah, go ahead."

"So," Eddie said next, not wanting Buck's sudden quiet demeanor to get to Chandler's head, "are you a lesbian or bi, or...?"

"Hm. That's a good question. I don't really know. I haven't really felt the need to label it yet, you know? I mean, I know I like guys. That's for sure. I mean, have you seen my posters on my walls of Harry Styles and Zayn Malik? How could somebody not like them? Then you have girls, though, and...it's different. I mean, I feel so much attraction for them, it's kind of wild. Also, Taylor Swift? Hot damn."

"Language," both Eddie and Buck said at the same time, and Chandler apologized.

"Look, my point is that I sort of just don't think about it. Plus, there was that person last spring that I liked, and they're non-binary, so," Chandler said with a shrug.

"Okay, so you don't want a label it. There is nothing wrong with that," Buck said.

If his words didn't sound sincere, he didn't mean for them not to. He meant his words fully and completely. There was nothing insincere about them. The thing was, this was the first time Chandler had opened up to him in a while, so it was taking him a minute to comprehend that it was actually happening.

"Dad?" Chandler had asked, an almost sadness in her voice.

"Yeah? Is something wrong?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Hey, no, everything is fine. I really do love you and support you, sweetheart. Remember, you are always my angel, no matter what."

"I know, Dad. What do you say we go to that ice cream spot you used to take me to when I was little? It can be just like old times. I'll finally have an excuse to wear my tutu, and we can talk about this more. How does that sound?"

"I think it sounds wonderful," Eddie said. "You two really do need a father-daughter date. It's been a while."

"Yeah," was all Buck had said in response, but in his head he was thinking 'four years'.

Eddie had to practically drag Buck out of his seat at the table and shove him into their room to get him out of his own head. From there, Buck was on autopilot. He wore the same outfit that he would any time he took Chandler to the ice cream shop when she was little. He found Eddie right before they left and gave him a big kiss on the lips followed by one on the cheek, just like he used to every time he took Chandler out. The difference now, though, is that he had to wait on Chandler to come out of her room. When she did, she was wearing a dress that, while not quite the same as the one she used to wear when they went, it was strikingly similar, and Buck felt like he might cry.

"Hey, angel," Buck said, standing up from the couch where he and Eddie were sitting together, talking on the phone with Christopher. "Dad and I are on the phone with Chris. Do you want to say hi?"

"Chris!" Chandler shouted, practically throwing herself over the back of the couch and tackling the phone out of Eddie's hand. "Pops and I are going out to get ice cream."

"Just like you used to when you were younger."

"Yeah! I'm super excited. Um, thank you for taking me to school today. I think your advice really helped. I love you so much, bubba!"

"I love you too, Chandler. Have fun with Pops."

"I will!" Chandler handed the phone back to Eddie then, jumping off the floor and grabbing Buck's hand, pulling him out of the house. "You know, Pops, soon enough you're going to be teaching me how to drive."

"No I will not," Buck said, shaking his head adamantly as they got in the car. "We'll leave that to your father."

"Technically you are my father, so..."

"How about the one who hasn't been crushed by a moving vehicle teaches you?"

"Hm, I don't know. I think it might be a fun bonding experience if—"

"Hey. That's not funny," Buck said, and Chandler shut it down quickly.

"Sorry, Pops."

"It's fine, it's just not funny," Buck said as they drove down the street.

Things got quiet then, neither one saying anything until they got to the ice cream shop. They sat outside under the gazebo, just like they used to, getting the exact same flavors as they always did. Then, Buck sighs, deciding that if he was going to expect Chandler to be completely open and honest with him then he owes her the same thing in return.

"You know," he said, focusing on his ice cream cone, "there's a lot about me and Dad that you don't know yet."

"Like what? I know about the ladder truck, I know about the pulmonary embolism, I know about the tsunami, I know about the lawsuit, and I know about the both of you getting struck by lightning but only you getting severely hurt...what am I missing?"

"A lot, angel. You're missing a lot."

"Like what?" Chandler asked, her eagerness making it that much harder.

"Well, first off, Dad and I did not get along well at first. I thought he was going to replace me. Turns out that wasn't the case, huh?"

"Obviously," Chandler says, and the two share a small laugh.

"Well, we became the best of friends. Then, as you mentioned, everything from the ladder truck crushing my leg to the lawsuit happened. After that, Dad was in a well saving a young boy when it collapsed. I thought I'd lost him that night. I didn't though. Next was when he got shot."

"Dad got shot?" Chandler asks, nearly choking on her ice cream.

"Woah, hey, it's alright. He is alright. I mean, he almost wasn't, but thanks to your amazing dad– I'm talking about me, if you haven't guessed that yet– pulled him to the safety, then I was the one who took care of him on the way to the hospital. I was the one who took care of Christopher during that time...he was in a coma. Uh, then after that he told me that in his will it says that if he were to die I would become Christopher's legal guardian."

"Woah. You guys weren't together yet?"

"Nope. We didn't get together for another two years. Can you believe that?"

"That's wild."

"Yeah, it is. Well, then after he got shot...what happened next? Oh, well, Dad left the 118 for a while because he was going through something, but I think he should be the one to tell you about that. The next thing, I guess, would be when we both got struck by lightning."

"Did it hurt?"

"Hell yeah," Buck says, and Chandler squints at him.

"Language," she says, and he laughs.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, it did hurt. A lot. Dad was thrown off the fire engine, but I was hanging from the ladder, completely lifeless. Anyway, I went into a coma after that. It was bad. I had a coma dream and everything."

"Oh, what happened in your dream?" Chandler asks, and Buck just chuckles and shakes his head.

"Uh, you know, looking back, nothing good."

"So what happened next?"

"Well, we started dating a while after that, and then after a year of dating got engaged, and then another year later we got married, but you already know all of that."

"Uh-huh. So why do I feel like I'm still missing something?" Chandler asks, and Buck smiles and laughs again.

"It's because you are. A few months after Eddie– Dad and I got married, there was this call. It was at a four-way intersection. A three car pile-up. In one car was a family of three. A newborn baby was the sole survivor. I was the one who got her out, I was the one who handed her off to the CPS lady...I got attached. That was when Dad and I decided to adopt you. That is why I got so upset earlier when you made that joke about getting into a car accident.

"It's because that's the reason I'm here in the first place," Chandler says, and Buck sighs, knowing this is going to cause some change. "Do you still love me?"

"What? Of course, angel. I wanted a daughter for my entire life, not just after that baby survived the car crash. That was just mine and Dad's deciding moment that we were actually going to fulfill that want of mine. So we did, and we have had an amazing time raising you."

"I love you, Dad. You're my favorite person in the entire world. I mean it."

"Dad trumps girlfriend? That's new. I don't even think Christopher—"

"Then you don't know Chris as good as you think."

"Oh, really?" Buck asks, and Chandler nods, giving him a big, cheeky grin.

For Chandler, she loved having two dads. Sure, sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have a mom, what it would be like to have someone she can go sit with at any given point in time so she could talk about all of her girl problems. As she got older, though, she realized that she didn't need a mom to do that. If she needed it to be a woman, she could call Maddie, Jee-Yun, or May, sometimes even Athena, Hen, or Karen. If she just needed to get things off her chest, though, as much as she loves Buck, Eddie was her go-to.

"Okay," Chandler says, sitting criss-crossed on her bed, Eddie sitting on her desk chair across from the foot of her bed. "So there's this guy, and I think he likes me."

"Wait, what happened to, uh...oh, who was it—"

"Irrelevant. This guy that I'm talking about now has a girlfriend. Guess who that girlfriend is?" Chandler asks, and Eddie's jaw drops.

"No way."

"Yes! Like, how much worse could my life get? Why does she have to be his girlfriend? God, she's such a bitch!" Chandler shouts, and Eddie gives her a pointed look, Buck popping his head into the room a moment later.

"Language," both Eddie and Buck say at the same time.

"Hey, are you two having a gossip session without me?" Buck asks, all too familiar with their seating arrangements.

"Sorry, Pops. It's just that Dad is less judgemental."

"No, he's more judgemental, which is the exact reason he's perfect. He judges the people the way you want him to. I am like Switzerland. The middle ground. The neutral zone."

"Which is the problem. I'll tell you about it later, okay Dad?" Chandler suggests, and Buck nods in agreement.

"I don't see why not. I love you both, and don't stay up all night chit-chatting. There's still school and work tomorrow, and I don't need my partner dozing off during a 24-hour shift."

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie says, yawning. "I'll be fine."

"Sure you will."

That's where they are now, with Buck lingering in the doorway for a moment longer, his daughter giving him a knowing smile over Eddie's head, and then Buck is gone to clean up from cooking dinner. He washes the dishes vigorously, having become his way to expel himself of any negativity he's curated over a 24-hour shift. After a while, a pair of arms wraps around his middle, holding onto him as Buck finishes with the final dishes and setting them on the drying rack to the left of the sink. Eddie tells their Alexa (something that he's still not entirely on board with) to play some music, one of his favorite songs coming on first. The two sway together to the music, Buck turning around as they hold each other close.

"You know she's gonna want you to walk her down the aisle one day, right?" Eddie asks once the chorus has come around once, and Buck simply hums in response. "She loves you more than anything in the world."

"I know that."

"Sometimes it seems like you don't."

"No, I do. I do, it's just...remember when she was little? How she would spend every waking moment with me that she could?"

"Buck—"

"No, don't say anything yet. When she was little, I was so attached to her, and she was attached to me. She's my angel, you know?" Buck says, and Eddie nods and hums, Buck's voice always having been one of soothing nature. "She still is. The only difference is she chooses to love me from afar."

"That's not entirely true," Eddie says, and Buck makes a confused sound that Eddie can't quite make out if it was an actual word or not. "When we're having dinner, she always sits where she can see you. When we're watching something as a family, half the time I don't get to cuddle with you because she is. Not that I'm complaining. I get you to myself all night anyways. In the car, you've stopped being the one driving because it gives you more of a chance to focus on talking with her. Do you know the last time she said goodmorning or goodnight to me first?"

"No," Buck says honestly. He really doesn't.

"The answer is never. Sometimes, she gives you a second goodnight after me."

"That doesn't...bother you, does it?" Buck asks, and Eddie shakes his head.

"No. It doesn't. You know why?"

"Hm?"

"Because Chandler is your Christopher. I am to Chandler what you are to Chris, and I am to Christopher what you are to Chandler."

"I think that's just further proof that we make a great team," Buck says, and Eddie smiles and laughs a little.

"Yeah we do."

Eddie yawns, and Buck knows that he's beyond tired. He turns off their Alexa, taking Eddie's hand and leading him down the hallway to their room. They're both already in their pajamas and didn't turn the light on, so all that's left for them to do is climb into bed. They slip under the covers, Buck immediately rolling over to wrap one arm around Eddie's torso, the other pulling his pillow against his side that's hitting the mattress still. Eddie has one arm keeping the covers pulled up over them, the other wrapped around Buck's shoulders, keeping him close. He turns his head, kissing Buck on the top of his. Eddie begins whispering sweet nothings into Buck's ear, yawning more and more frequently as he does so until he's fallen asleep, Buck's eyes fluttering shut as silence overtakes the room. They made the right decision those seventeen, nearly eighteen years ago, and he's so glad that they did. He has everything he's ever wanted, and he couldn't be more content.

[gontagokuhara]

THE WORLD BUILDINGG omg I'm so happy I asked. Also, I appreciate that you kept the spoilers out of the response, I really want to experience the story without knowing the surprises! I was tiptoeing around my questioning to try and avoid spoilers. I'm gonna be so honest, these asks are mostly self indulgent questions to get rid of my own brain worms😭

Like what was Rantaro's tattoo of!? Those kinds of things! Speaking of rantaro, I'm sorry, the funniest part of the previous response was hearing how Rantaro is the shining light of naegami's life, and then remembering that one response where you wrote that Rantaro terrorized Byakuya for years to show off to Shuichi 😭 I just know he's spoiled to all hell💀 I'm kind of curious what their household looked like, especially when shuichi's mom was still alive 💔

Also I think it's hilarious to imagine the gods putting up with their children's Gen-Z shenanigans. Like how is a literal immortal mystical being supposed to react and relate when their mortal child starts singing kirkalicous 💀

im so late answering this im so sorry 😭 i choose to blame tumblr's absolute dogwater notification system. but ANYWAYS! some questions have been asked and some answers are in order. customarily under the cut for anyone who doesnt care <3

i ALSO love the little silly details like that, even when it's very hard to develop them properly in the confines of the fic itself. like rantarou's tattoo; a very shitty stick-and-poke he did himself in the jankiest, unsafest way at age 14 while the parents were out of town and with shuuichi as his only witness. of a smiley face, his own handiwork, badly imprinted just above his ankle where he figured it would be easiest to hide from his dads (so far, it's worked). it's definitely what would terrorize makoto and (ESPECIALLY) byakuya the most, though his attempts at dyeing his own hair and piercing himself across the years have keyed them into his antics by now.

he is very spoiled, they both are, and as i've mentioned even before shuuichi moved in permanently with rantarou, they treated him like family long before he ever officially was. makoto and shuuichi's mom were especially close, definitely spent many an afternoon by the pool or sitting in shuuichi's old apartment or monitoring their sons together and gossiping like southern old ladies between laughter at the kids' antics. even before their households were forced to properly merge, they were common fixtures in each other's lives. initially because makoto caught wind of another demigod child in rantarou's vicinity at school, but the more time passed, and the more makoto/byakuya learned about the child and his mother (though unforthcoming with details about shuuichi's parentage), the more organic the friendships between the parents became. in that sense they were genuinely devastated by her death (an odd feeling for two ancient gods) but also genuinely passionate about taking in shuuichi because they love him, he's already family in everything but name, it's an absolute no-brainer in the aftermath of the loss.

also your last little comment about karkalicious 😭 immediately reminded me of kokichi. imagine being the parent of that and having to deal with his bullshit. good thing he's not got any, huh? (though hajime and nagito certainly deal with enough bullshit as his guardians/at camp that they're practically entitled to a veteran's discount atp)

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with the matchmaking

My masterlist

Description | Victoria is desperate to set you and Thomas up... Might there be a spark already?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Thomas

Word Count | 2663

Taglist (add yourself here!) | @mywritingonlyfans @damianodavide @lizstans @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @shaunthesheesh @damianodavidhands @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @solasullabarca @foryourllove @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @ginny-lily @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00

***

There had been an unspoken thing between you and Thomas from the first day you met. It was one of those right person, wrong time scenarios. Both of you were happily taken by other people, loving your partners, and leading healthy relationships. It simply hadn't been meant to be and both of you had gladly accepted it. Nothing had ever happened, despite the others insisting there must have, neither of you was like that. So you stayed friends with him, the same way you stayed friends with Victoria, Damiano, and Ethan and it didn't take long for the five of you to grow into a loving group, a chosen family. That was until both you and Thomas happened to have broken up with your respective partners within the same week. It was safe to say that it didn't take long for the meddling to start.

***

"I just think they'd make such a good couple!" Victoria said, pushing the empty beer bottles around on the table in annoyance. "They're basically made for each other."

"Leave it, Vic," Ethan said. The dark of the bar was hiding his features and the fact he was slightly rolling his eyes. "They both literally just got out of relationships, I don't think they're interested."

"But they both ended them so it's not like they've been broken up with," she insisted. "I'm sure they'll get over it quickly enough."

"Yeah I agree with Vic," Damiano added. "It's not like either of them seems all that heartbroken."

"Exactly, which is why we need to act now!"

"I still don't think it's a good idea," Ethan sighed. "Just let them figure it out on their own."

"But they're idiots! They'll never figure it out!"

Damiano couldn't help laugh out loud. He knew his friend was onto something, both Thomas and Y/n tended to be hilariously oblivious when it came to things like these.

"Maybe they just need a little push," he agreed.

"Fine." A deep sigh escaped Ethan. "But don't say I didn't warn you if it doesn't work out."

***

The moment you stepped into the vintage second-hand store you decided it was heaven on earth. It didn't take long for you to sweep through the place like a whirlwind, picking up pieces left and right, leaving Victoria and Thomas standing at the entrance still. You didn't care, this was one of your favourite places and you were not going to be held back because those two were slow. You tried on a dress that looked like an absolute mess on you and you quickly took a picture to laugh at later with the others, before trying on some trousers that you really took a liking to. You were still in them, trying to figure out if you had also grabbed a top that would match when someone knocked on the wood of the changing room. Confused and not certain if the noise was directed at you, you pulled back the curtain to come face to face with Thomas. He noticed you were in your bra before you did.

You raised your eyebrows, overly amused at how he was nervously looking around to figure out if anyone else would be able to see her, but no one seemed to be around. As he turned back, he tried not to let his gaze fall into her chest again, but failed miserably. You laughed heartily, "It's fine, stop blushing, Thomas."

He grinned, more relaxed not that he knew you didn't mind. He shouldn't, this being far from the first time he'd seen you like this.

"Vic told me to give you this dress to try on."

You looked at the piece of fabric he handed you, a gorgeous, velvety black, knee-high dress with a dangerous slit and a plunging neckline. It wasn't something you would have chosen yourself, but you trusted Vic's judgment. The curtain was quickly closed again, removing the trousers you had already decided on and slipped on the dress. It fell in a much nicer way than you had anticipated, easily smoothing itself over your curves and settling perfectly in place. The mirror agreed with your sentiment - you looked gorgeous. Okay, so this dress would do with a bit more makeup and without a bra, but it was a no-brainer that you were going to buy it.

You ripped open the curtain, now facing both of your friends. As soon as Vic saw you, she seemed as smitten with it as you were. Thomas looked stunned in his own way but stayed quiet.

"Fuck, I knew that was your dress!" Victoria shouted, obviously proud of herself for picking it out.

"Where am I ever going to wear this?" You asked, spinning to muster your reflection once again.

"When I take you out tomorrow night," Vic grinned. "There's a gorgeous new restaurant in town but it's fancy fancy, so this will do just fine."

You couldn't help but squint your eyes at her through the mirror. Her suggestion sounded just fine, but the way her eyes flickered made you feel like there was something more to the story.

***

"Wait, so how will you going out with her to dinner help, exactly?"

"Oh, Damiano, stop being so dumb. Obviously, I won't go."

"I don't get it."

"I'll have some sort of last-minute emergency, and since both of you will be out of the house, Thomas will have to step in."

Ethan sighed, shaking his head at his friend's plan.

"Why do you have to meddle so much, Vic?"

"Because those two don't get it. But once they see each other all dressed up, romantic dinner, candles, good wine, it'll click."

"Whatever you say."

***

"Oh my god, Y/n, I'm so sorry!" Victoria burst into your room, Chili cradled in her arms and an apologetic look on her face. "I know we said we'd go to that fancy restaurant tonight, but Chili's been coughing and the vet told me to come in immediately."

You side-eyed the little white dog, looking as happy as can be, but there was no reason for you not to trust Victoria. Right? You briefly petted Chili's head.

"Don't worry about it, we can always go some other time."

"No!" Her outburst surprised you. "I mean, it's so difficult to get a reservation there and you should wear your dress out. Damiano and Ethan are out, but I'm pretty sure Thomas is free, please ask him, he'd probably love to go with you!"

You wanted to scold Victoria, tell her this wasn't happening, tell her you'd be fine just staying home, but she didn't give you a chance to do any of it. Instead, she left your room, immediately shouting for her bandmate. It was the reason you found yourself at a candlelit dinner with the blond man mere hours later.

"You look amazing, by the way," Thomas said. Well, he actually kind of mumbled it into his pasta rather than proudly state it. You felt like blushing.

"So do you, love. But you know I love you in a suit."

Your eyes met, just for a moment, before both of you found yourselves awkwardly staring back at your plates again. You didn't know why you were behaving like this, or why he was, you could only attribute it to the fact that this felt like an overly romantic date and the waiter had referred to you as his girlfriend multiple times already. Neither of you had corrected him. You hadn't minded the single rose that had been placed between you on the table, accompanied by a little wink and a smile by the waiter.

"You know, you make a lousy boyfriend, not even bringing me flowers for our date, " you teased, watching as a shy smile appeared on Thomas' face, his eyes travelling down the table for a second before looking at you again with more than a twinkle.

"I did take you to the nicest restaurant in town, surely that gets me some points?"

The giggle bubbled over your lips easily. Everything came easy with Thomas. He made the troubles disappear with one look, one touch of a hand, a single word, a gesture, his existence. He was your own personal cure to everything.

***

"No, I'm telling you, it worked," Victoria excitedly gasped and she gathered in the kitchen with Damiano and Ethan, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. "You should have seen them when they came back!"

"Did you actually wait up for them?" Ethan asked, slightly disbelieving, slightly amused.

"Well, they didn't know obviously! I just cracked my bedroom door open a bit. But they were all giggly and happy and they hugged when they said goodnight!"

"Vic, we all hug all the time," Damiano threw in.

"Not the way they did. I'm serious, this is working and you'll see soon enough!"

"So what's the next idea then?"

"I'm... I'm not quite sure," she admitted. "But I'll figure it out and it'll be perfect."

***

The thunderstorm hadn't been predicted by any of the weather channels. You found yourself standing in front of the patio doors with Thomas, watching the heavy rain disturb the surface or the pool, trees swaying in the wind, a flash of light illuminating the garden in regular intervals. It had only been the two of you home when it had started, everyone else out to meet friends or sitting in a bar with a drink in their hand. You had been having a lazy day, unwilling to leave the house at all, while Thomas had slept for so long no one had bothered trying to wake him so he could join in on plans.

"Do you want to compare our favourite records?"

You had been so focused on the happenings outside of the glass that you almost flinched in surprise at his question. Still, a slight smile, the right kind of look, and you were nodding enthusiastically. Hasting up the stairs, barefoot and in nothing but shorts and the shirt you usually slept in, you went through the little collection you had brought to the summer house, already hearing the first notes of Led Zeppelin's Black Dog echoing downstairs. With a smile on your face, you grabbed a few records and bolted back down to Thomas.

"I still prefer Led Zeppelin III," you giggled, only to be greeted with Thomas' shocked face. "Anything that has Immigrant Song on it is a hit, really."

"Blasphemy! Nothing tops IV, and you clearly have no taste."

"You clearly have no taste considering you think anything Led Zeppelin has put out is better than Fleetwood Mac's Rumours." You barely waited for the first song of Thomas' album of choice to finish playing before interrupting it with the sound of Second Hand News.

It didn't take long for the conversation to get heated. Still, you kept playing your record in the background, effortlessly dodging his effort to change it, even though the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. He was still complaining, explaining, talking to a wall basically, as you danced around the living room, as the music flowed through you, singing along, thunder only happens when it's raining, as the weather outside did its worst.

"I just think it's much too sad, most of it," Thomas finally concluded.

"Doesn't that just make it so beautiful though?"

"No, it just makes me sad," he pouted.

"Maybe you just never listened to it the way you should. In the arms of someone you love."

A heartbeat passed as both of you looked at each other, but then your smile returned and you motioned for him to get on the sofa with you, lying on your side as he slowly but surely moved in front of you. Your arms wrapped around him, spooning him, making you feel safer than you ever have as Songbird played in quiet tones.

Your nose buried itself in his hair, letting his smell fill your every pore, taking over your whole being as you pressed into him, singing along in nothing but a whisper.

"And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before."

***

"Guys, guys, guys, look at that!" Victoria called out to her friends as they quietly made their way into the house. "I knew it would be such a good idea to leave them alone in the house!"

"Vic, it's not like you made a thunderstorm come along, I'm pretty sure this was not your doing for once," Damiano whispered.

"Doesn't matter! Look at them spooning! We're on the right way, guys!"

"We're not on any way," Ethan threw in. "You keep trying to meddle and the two of them are going their own ways."

"They just need another push. I just gotta think of something."

***

"Hey, they let you feed the goats here!" Victoria squealed as everyone around her let out a groan. The zoo was bustling with people, the five friends surrounded by families, and Vic easily fell in line with the children's excitement.

"Vic, I really really don't like goats," you complained. "I'd rather not get their attention because I got food in my hands."

"Fine. How about you go see the owls over there with... Thomas, and I go feed some adorable goats with Ethan and Damiano?"

The both of you allowed yourselves to be pushed away easily, chuckles on your faces as you walked away from the rest of the group, dodging running toddlers as you went.

"So, this is a set-up, huh?" Thomas grinned next to you as his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Oh, as if Victoria has been doing anything these past weeks without hidden intentions." You let yourself mold into Thomas' side, leaning in closer until your bodies were touching as much as physically possible. "She's not half as subtle about this as she thinks. I'm sure she's watching right now."

You didn't turn around, but you felt her eyes on the pair of you, watching your every move and trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you.

"Do you wanna give her a show?" You playfully pinched his site, looking at him from the corner of your eyes just to see a smile appear on his face that was surely mirroring yours. "Make out a little bit?"

"Wouldn't that give it away?" He stopped walking, now wrapping both of his arms around you as you leaned on his chest, looking up at him.

"I'm sure she'd still think it's just a first step in the right direction."

Not waiting for his response, your hand reached up to his face, slowly stroking along the soft skin of his cheek, thumb running over his lower lip as his smile grew, then reaching around, tangling them into his hair and pulling him down to you. His lips met yours in a sigh, warm and lovely, a tingling feeling spreading through you immediately, pressing yourself into him. You could feel his thumb stroking your back ever so slightly as he held you. He wanted more, slowly moving his lips, trying to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. Close enough to still feel his breath on you, close enough that whispering would be enough.

"Now, we don't want Vic to figure it all out immediately," you grinned before putting more distance between the two of you. He groaned, making you giggle, before taking your hand and pulling you along.

"How much longer are you planning to keep this up?" Thomas asked, shaking his head, but still amused. "We've been together for two weeks."

"Pretty sure she already bought tickets for the cinema for me and her for Wednesday... which she'll inexplicably have no time for so you'll have to come along, obviously. I can give you a hickey in the dark theater, she'll freak."

Thomas laughed out loud, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head.

"Fine. One more date, that's it?"

"One more date."

[passionate-hedgehog]

Canoes and Questions

Damien Haas x Reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: It has swearing.

Word Count: 1624

AN: I wrote this for Pride 2021. I wrote it to represent Ace/Aro individualsand those that are still just trying to figure it out. If the wording is weird then welcome to my mind haaaaaaaa

Summary: Damien is vacationing on an island where Reader works. It’s Reader’s day off so they’re trying to get time in with their best friend. But Reader’s ever-racing mind hasn’t taken the day off.

“Why don’t you just use a paddle, Damien? It’s going to be tons easier than your hands.” Y/n demonstrated their point by sticking their own paddle into the water of the pond and continued to move their little canoe.

“Yeah but that’s what they want you to do.” The man kept his right arm in the water trying to imitate Y/n’s movements but failed to do what they did.

Y/n’s deadpan expression was evident as they dipped their fingers into the water and then flicked some at their friend. Damien was sitting facing his canoe companion so he was able to duck when he saw the attack coming, giving him the chance to see the attack coming. He ducked, then proceeded to counterattack. They went back and forth until the canoe began to wobble. The shock of the movement caused Y/n to grab their friend’s bare arms hoping for some stability.

Damien’s eyes were the size of saucers as he let out an uncomfortable chuckle. His hands held the sides of the small boat, not removing Y/n’s own hands from his limbs. “You good?”

“Uh…” Y/n seemed to look anywhere else but the hazel eyes in front of them. “Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Hey. We don’t have to go canoeing.” Damien soothed. “There are other things to do on this island. I know you’re really trying to be brave here on the water but you don’t have to. We can go see the butterflies.”

Y/n released his arms and looked him in the eyes, feeling heat rise to their cheeks. “It’s not that. I mean, yeah the water and almost dying didn’t help.”

“Almost...dying? Bud, the water is 4 ft deep right here. I don’t…” The actor trailed off when his friend’s glare could be felt through his soul. “Okay, so if it’s not the water then what’s wrong?”

By this point, Y/n’s nails were tapping the bench they were sitting on inside the canoe. “It’s dumb and we should just like...ignore it. You mentioned the butterfly exhibit? Let’s go check that out.”

“Y/n, I don’t know what’s making you nervous at this point but you know you can talk to me about anything. Right?”

At that point, the server looked their friend in the eyes and swallowed. “I know. I just...I think I’d feel better talking about it on solid ground. Where either of us has a chance to escape in case the conversation gets weird. Ya know, just in case.”

The pair agreed to take the conversation to the butterflies. After paddling back to the shore they returned their canoe to the livery and made their way up the hill to the butterfly exhibit. The steps were made in silence until the pair caught sight of bunnies among the forestry surrounding the pavement.

“I didn’t think we had wild animals like that on this island. Like, I realize eighty percent of this place is forest but besides birds, I haven’t seen anything.” Y/n contemplated as Damien took out his phone to get a picture. “I haven’t even seen a squirrel.”

The actor looked towards his friend. “Have you explored anything other than the downtown area?”

Y/n cocked their head. “Of course. The medic center where I had my covid test is like..3 blocks from the coffee shop. So that was a new walk for me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Damien chuckled.

“Well excuse me. I’m here for work, good sir. Not play. You’re the one here on vacation. I’m excited just to go see the butterflies. I intend on fully enjoying my only day off.”

The two eventually entered the lepidopterarium. They found a corner full of brightly colored flowers and a bench. The pair sat and took pictures with and of each other being surrounded by everything. Damien made sure to get pictures of Y/n as butterflies landed on their arms and lap.

“They tickle. So much.” The island resident tried not to disturb the flutterers with movement and sat as still as they could.

Damien mindlessly fiddled with the phone in his hands. “Since I have you in a position that you won’t choose to escape from in fear of hurting the butterflies…”

Y/n rolled their eyes. “God damnit. Yeah, okay. Fine. Ask.”

“What was really bothering you out on the pond.” Damien kept fiddling with his phone but his eyes were watching his friend’s face.

Breathing deeply and then exhaling, Y/n hummed. “It's weird. The answer, I mean. So I apologize ahead of time.”

The actor didn’t say anything, he just let his friend think their thoughts through at their own pace.

Y/n’s eyes found the butterfly on their kneecap particularly interesting. “I was flirting? Trying to flirt? Uh...when I flicked the water. But that obviously didn’t end well.”

“Flirt? With me?” Damien’s hands stilled.

“Hmm, yeah. But that’s not the weird part. You should be used to people flirting with you. You’re you.” The server looked back up at their friend. “I was using it as a test? I guess would be the right way to describe that.”

“A lot of that sounded like questions and not answers.”

Y/n let out a small sigh. “Probably because I feel like a lot of it is questions. Questioning, I mean. Although, I guess my whole problem is how to stop questioning…”

Damien turned to fully face his friend, making sure to give them all of his attention. “Questioning? Like what? I don’t want to assume anything.”

They took time to figure out how to word their thoughts. As their mind raced, however, their friend never turned away. It was in that silent support that Y/n drew the courage to just say what they needed to say.

Y/n fidgeted with their own hands“I’m very confused? No, that’s not even a question that’s a definite. I’m confused about things regarding relationships. Like...do I want to be in a relationship? Am I into that? Do I get romantic feelings? These are constant thoughts I have. And then I think ‘If you tried to have a relationship with someone you’d know.’ But then the whole ‘I don’t want to ever have sex’ thing goes through my mind. Because why would I try to build a relationship with someone that wants a thing I one hundred percent would not be comfortable doing? But then there’s the likelihood that a relationship could be made without it. So I don’t even think I could ‘test the water’ to find out. My thought process is odd, I apologize.”

Immediately, Damien was shaking his head. “No, you don’t apologize. You still trying to figure things out, of course, your thoughts are going to sound like they’re all over the place. They aren’t by the way. But continue, I’m still listening.”

They let out a gentle huff. “Right. So. I’ve figured out that I’m asexual. That was a no-brainer. And maybe it’s from some past trauma, or maybe it’s how I would feel even without it...but I don’t think I get romantic feelings. Or maybe I just haven’t found the right person? But I see how people are in relationships and it’s not that I want a relationship but those feelings that come with it. Like how one person can feel like that for another person. Or maybe it’s just wanting to experience something that I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Like when I’m experiencing a negative side to my OCD and I wonder what it’s like to have a normal brain.” After making sure no butterflies were in the way, Damien slid closer to his friend so that they were shoulder to shoulder.

“Exactly.” Y/n leaned against his arm. “I know it doesn’t sound like the most serious thing but sometimes I feel like I’m wading through life in a pool of molasses. It’s already hard enough out here. But it’s something I can’t seem to shake or get my mind off of. I know my value as a person isn’t determined by another person but I just...why can’t my sexuality or lack thereof just be easier to figure out?”

“You’re right, though.” Damien started. “You’re value isn’t determined by a relationship or another person. What you bring to the world isn’t determined by if you like sex or if you ever want to be in love. And I hope you know how important you are to me and the rest of our friends whether or not you figured out any of those things. I do hope, however, that someday you’ll figure it out so the thoughts don’t plague your mind anymore.”

Y/n turned their head so they were looking into Damien’s eyes.

“You have a lot of things going on up here.” The actor prodded at his friend’s forehead, making them giggle and wince. “Don’t let it stop you from being the best you that you can be. There’s nothing wrong with having just friends. Either way, you’re going to be surrounded with love. Isn’t that the part that matters? Not what kind of love it is, but that it’s there? I mean I love you. You’re one of my best friends and that’s not changing no matter your preferences.”

Y/n threw their arms around the actor and laid their cheek on the tip of his shoulder. “Thanks, man. That means a lot to me.”

Damien wrapped his left arm around their shoulders and pulled them in tighter. “Of course! Thank you for putting that trust in me. It fuels me. But please don’t ever flirt with me again. That was painful to watch.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[allforhader]

One Night Stand

Willy McLean x (F) Reader

Warnings: Language

Shit...

Y/N sat up slowly covering herself with the blanket looking to her left finding no one in the bed with her. He left...

“Shit...” She sighs getting out of the bed covering herself more making the walk of shame in her own apartment.

2 Months In

Y/N sat on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. She saw Willy talking with Brandy and Derrick in the lifeguard stand as she mainly kept her distance. Then a sudden overwhelming feeling kicked in, making her leave the premises which did catch Willy’s attention.

“Yeah no hold that thought” Willy interrupts Derrick before quickly making out of there and into the parking lot not finding Y/N. “Shit. SHIT” he exclaims to himself.

A few moments went by as Y/N sat on her bathroom floor holding in the tears, but they couldn’t help but roll down her cheeks.

“Fuck...” She looks back at the three different pregnancy tests seeing all positive marks. “Damn it...”

4 Months In

Y/N checked out her side profile in the mirror seeing how big she’s starting to get. The process wasn’t overwhelming her...the whole telling Willy was and the closer she got to telling him, only got harder. To herself, she has to say something before...well the obvious. She puts her shirt back down about to grab one of her hoodies when she found Willy’s poncho.

“Jesus...” Y/N frowns staring at it for a while before hugging it. She looks around her apartment realizing she should clean it if she hasn’t found this until four months later.

Without a doubt Y/N put it on and laughed at the fact that she wore it. But the strange feeling of feeling safe came with it. She held herself looking in the mirror thinking about that night. As much as it was a heat of the moment fling, Willy cared about how she felt in every aspect. More than others for obvious reasons. But...

He cared...

Six months in

“Y/N?”

Shit.

Y/N stops looking at the shelves in the medicine isle as her body tenses up when she heard her name. She turned to look at who it was and thank god it wasn’t Willy, but why the fuck Cameron?

“Cameron.”

“Hey, it’s been-“ Cameron stops talking and his eyes were fixated on not only the fact that she was wearing Willy’s poncho but her six month pregnant belly. “Woah. So you’re pregnant”

“That’s a no brainer Cameron. What do you want?”

“Well uh. I kinda just wanted to say hi to a familiar face but do you mind if I ask something?”

Y/N does, but that wasn’t gonna stop Cameron.

“Is it Willy’s?”

No totally not. Totally not a dead giveaway wearing his fucking poncho to cover up the fact but guess it wasn’t that great at covering it up.

“Why do you care?”

“Well, you did work with us lifeguards. But you were rarely there in August. Clearly avoiding someone. Now it’s what...February which makes-“

“Six months” Y/N frowns.

“Does he know?”

“Okay why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be away at college instead of interrogating me?”

“I’m not really interrogating. Plus I’m allowed to visit home on weekends.” Cameron’s expression went from a bit defensive to instant worry when Y/N’s face went a bit pale. “Y/N?”

“I uh. Um.” She rests her hand on her belly feeling a bit of pain. “Heh uh this shouldn’t—be happening” the pain felt more like contractions and she immediately grabbed Cameron’s arm. “Um. Can you take me to the hospital...”

Braxton Hicks Contractions. As much as the contractions do feel real, they are caused by literally doing too much and or dehydration. But some cases are caused by stress.

Cameron didn’t interrogate her, or at least he tried to. But Y/N was already stressed by keeping the pregnancy from Willy and Cameron finding out was the overflow.

“Alright, from what I can tell it just seems to be Braxton Hicks. They aren’t that serious but we’ll contact OB to check you and discharge you.” The ER doctor reads the fetal monitor strip carefully. “We’ll keep the fetal monitor on until OB gets here. I’ll go page them” Y/N’s doctor leaves as Cameron looks at Y/N adjust in the hospital bed to be more comfortable.

“Y/N...”

“Yeah?”

“Can I call Willy?”

“Yeah”

“Okay I know you don’t want—Wait...really?”

“I-Uh...Uhm. I know you’re here for me...you literally took me here...but I don’t think I-I’d be able to live with myself...if I lost the baby and never told the father” Y/N frowns feeling the tears build up in her eyes, but the thought hurt. “He’s going to be mad...”

“I highly doubt it”

“How can you be sure Cameron?...it’s six months. I know there’s no baby yet sitting in my arms but it’s literally been too long. I left him in the dark...”

“He didn’t shut up about you during the remainder of summer. He thought you left town” He frowns sitting beside Y/N after she moved over slightly. “He really didn’t shut up. Drank a lot. Got high. Y’know. Classic Willy. But I guess he was heartbroken”

“Oh now that’s my fault”

“Well it’s both of yours...”

“Elaborate?”

“This is a result of a one night stand isn’t it? Willy obviously thought a typical thing where you wouldn’t want to wake up with him next to you. But you did. Then you realized you were pregnant, and didn’t think he’d want it. So you kept it to yourself, and he stopped wondering. From my knowledge at least”

“...did you talk to him at all when you got back?”

“No, but this would be the first time I ever talked about him. To tell him about you”

“Wow...just..thinking about what’d he’d think is kind of nerve racking”

“Well you can’t stress yourself anymore that’s for sure” Cameron reassures rubbing circles on her back to calm her before going to call Willy and tell her she’s in the hospital.

“What the FUCK happened?”

Great first thing to ask.

“Willy-“

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything why did you assume?”

“Just because you get with Brandy. Doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot anymore”

“Okay—Ouch. I didn’t do anything”

“Then why is Y/N in the hospital? I thought she left town. I thought I wasn’t...I thought I wasn’t going to see her again” Willy frowns scratching the back of his head thinking of all the possible things but when Cameron moved out of his way to show an OB resident taking care of Y/N by doing an ultrasound and checking the most recent EKG on the fetal monitor.

“She’s uh-“

“She’s pregnant...” Willy felt a weight in his chest as he felt hesitant when approaching her hospital gurney but eventually ended up beside Y/N.

Willy rests his hand on her shoulder to catch her attention but her stress was noticed with her monitor and her heart rate skyrocketing.

“Woah, Ms. Y/L/N you really-“ Her OB just noticed Willy and she looked at Y/N confused for a moment before seeing her heart rate slowly calm down. “Okay...you really need to take a deep breath. If you stress yourself out it can really harm the baby”

“Um...how far along are you?” Willy asks Y/N as her OB put the cold gel on her belly after taking off the fetal monitor strap.

“I’m six months along..” Y/N states looking back at the monitor when the OB gently presses the transducer waving around before pointing on the monitor their little one.

“Well I can confirm that the fetal monitor didn’t show any distress and your little girl is perfectly healthy. I’ll get your discharge papers” She said as she cleaned off the gel before leaving the two alone.

“Willy I-“

“It’s mine...isn’t it?”

“...yeah”

“I thought I lost you. By you leaving town” Willy frowns sitting by her feet finding his poncho sitting on top of her clothes since she was in a hospital gown. “Thought I lost this”

“It’s..been in my possession” Y/N laughs a bit haven’t drawn her attention away from her belly trying to keep herself calm but the tears said otherwise.

“Y/N...I-...” Willy frowns resting his hand on her cheek wiping away the tears that fell with his thumb. “Come on...I may not look it, but I can help you take care of her. Take care of you. I wish you didn’t keep it from me for this long but...there’s no baby here yet. I can still help you prepare things and care for you...if you’d let me”

Y/N choked up on her tears moving his hand moving closer to Willy and embracing him. Willy sighs with relief holding her in his arms carefully.

“Does this mean I can’t get high around you?” Willy asks to catch a laugh from Y/N. God. An unforgettable laugh she’s got.

8 Months in

“Shit”

“Fuck”

“I don’t—-where did I put—“

“Where’s the instructions?”

“Maybe I should’ve waited”

“No! I gotta do this”

“I can’t do this. Where’d they go”

Y/N walks out of her bedroom spotting Willy on the floor surrounded by different pieces that build a crib. She laughs to herself catching Willy’s attention as he blushes a bit embarrassed.

“You didn’t have to do this alone” Y/N reassures carefully sitting on the ground beside him leaning against the couch.

“I was gonna surprise you before you woke up”

“Well aren’t you sweet” Y/N smiles rubbing circles on his back. “Did you lose the instructions?” She asks watching Willy nod before scooting back to sit beside her leaning against the couch. Y/N rests her head on his shoulder continuing to smile.

“Maybe I should get one of the guys to help me.”

“Not gonna let me help?”

“You are eight months pregnant I’m not going to let you do a single thing, besides look pretty” Willy smiles kissing the top of Y/N’s head as she rubs circles on her belly enjoying the moment. “God I’m so happy I’m not going to miss any of this”

“Me too...me too” Y/N smiles before feeling a bit discomfort. She straightens up feeling behind her as Willy reaches under the couch to see.

And out came out the instructions.

“Well. Should’ve looked under the couch first thing” Willy laughs with Y/N as she took them from him. “Hey-“

“I’m going to be stuck on this floor until you help me up. So let me help while I’m down here” Y/N laughs a bit reading a few things as Willy rolls his eyes before sneaking a kiss or two before getting what she’s saying from the instructions.

And with that, after a good two hours, Y/N comfortably sat on the couch watching Willy shake the made crib to make sure it wasn’t wobbly. It wasn’t.

“See I was helpful”

“You just read instructions”

“Yeah but I did look pretty for you” Y/N smiles watching Willy walk over to her leaning down to press his lips against hers.

“Damn. Doing a better job then I am” He says once he parts.

The due date

“Okay—-I don’t understand this whole hospital bag but I got that set up. Your mom is a lovely person to talk to over the phone but she yelled at me for calling her this morning. I think it’s because it’s the due date. Um. Now we just wait? I don’t understand that shit one fucking bit”

“I mean. I’m uncomfortable because I’m as big as a fucking planet but I don’t feel anything”

“You’re not a fucking planet” Willy states sitting beside her on the bed. “You’re beautiful”

“Y’know if I were to punch you in the balls, that pain would only be a pinch compared to what I’m about to experience”

“Okay uh should I cover my balls now because you just said that?” Willy laughs a bit and he was nervous just from the fact that it’s her due date but now that added onto it. “Why are you so angry?”

“Willy. You’re not carrying a stubborn baby, who is perfectly healthy from their last check up, and won’t pop out”

“I don’t want to think of labor as popping out”

“Yeah I could’ve honestly said something better. But it’s true. Little one is healthy. Right on track. Today’s the due date. Now I’m the impatient one” Y/N lays back on the bed feeling something happen causing discomfort. “Now I’m just uncomfortable”

“Uncomfortable?” Willy lays beside her catching Y/N covering her face with her hands. “What?”

“I think my water broke”

“Shit—okay” Willy got up and immediately did what Y/N told him to do when the time was there.

Help her was apart of every step, but he had to get the hospital bag and take her keys for her car since it’s more comfortable than his.

After getting everything and helping Y/N to the car, they made it to the hospital and Y/N was immediately taken to L&D (Labor and Delivery). Y/N was extremely uncomfortable throughout the entire process, but the only thing helping things move along personally for her, was having Willy beside her holding her hand. Even if the thought of getting punched in the balls still lingered in his head, the pain that came from that, radiates in his hand whenever Y/N felt a painful contraction and she squeezed his hand. Power through Willy, you’re not the one pushing a tiny human out of your body after carrying it for nine months.

“You’re progressing, which is exactly what we’re looking for. But you’re not quite there yet. Hang in there Y/N” Her OB reassures after checking how dilated she was, and she’s two centimeters away before she can start pushing.

Willy let go of her hand for a second before going into the hospital bag to grab one of the many hair ties and using it for himself. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she thought he was going to give it to her.

“Hey hey, I’m gonna need one” Y/N jolts a bit to a contraction while holding her hand out but instead of being handed one, Willy carefully made her sit up and put her hair up. “Aww. What the fuck”

“What? You’re already doing a lot. Like. Seriously” Willy laughs a bit taking her hand into his again smiling. “You’re pushing a human out” he laughs more catching Y/N laughing a bit as she leans back against the hospital bed smiling.

“God...”

“What?”

“She’s going to love you” Y/N smiles making Willy get emotional just from hearing that. “But not as much as I love you”

What’s a more perfect moment to say your first I love you than the day of delivering the next most important person in your life.

“Oh Y/N-“ Willy suddenly was cut off by Y/N almost breaking his hand from squeezing it. “Okay—-FUCK”

A good painful three hours later...and their 6.5 pound little girl was born. A healthy little baby with no complications after and during delivery. The sight of his daughter was breath taking.

No. Seriously. When their daughter finally made it into this world, Willy passed out at the sight of it all. Y/N’s doctor reassured Y/N by saying this is normal and it happens sometimes, guess Y/N should’ve warned him about what it may or may not look like. But that’s kind of hard to accomplish when there were other things to accomplish during the nine months.

After coming too and the three were given their time alone in the hospital room. Willy couldn’t help but cry when holding his daughter in his arms as Y/N smiles happily at the two.

“Isn’t she just perfect?”

“She is perfect, just like her strong mama” Willy smiles kissing Y/N lovingly before handing back their little one to her mama. He moves the hospital bed’s side guard so he can slide in next to Y/N. “I love you. So much. I love you so much Y/N and nothing is ever going to change that” he states holding her in his arms as she held their little one.

“You both are my world now and forever”

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #25

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

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Hell hath no fury like this fish woman. For Undyne's rage casts a near-visible aura of hate as she stormed her way into Hotland. Clad in her special armor, keeping her form from dehydrating, she intimidates those that witness her barreling towards the Lab. With a mighty kick, she almost hurls the doors from their hinges before continuing inside. Knowing all too well where her intended target is. Cameras follow her movements but do little to warn their owner in time. Alphys receives the signal just as the echos of hurried stomps reaches her ears. By the time the doors are thrown open, Alphys has made the scene a little more authentic and hides away her more sketchy items. As one can imagine, the Captain of the Royal Guard is less than pleased to see a human being given treatment instead of having its soul collected.

"U-Undyne...W-W-What a surprise."

"Cut the crap, Alphys. How long have you known about it being in the Underground?! Why wasn't I informed?! And why, in Asgore's name, are you keeping that thing alive?!"

The disgruntled captain points at the unconscious human strapped to a bloody slab with several machines around her. Thick bandages cover the wounds given on-screen, the eerie beeps of the machines that are annoyingly loud in the silence, sticky liquid crimson softly dribbles from the slab edges to a small pool draining on the floor as tubes and wires are placed on vital areas. The scene looks like a medical mess. For what good it does to try, Alphys puts on a straight face and gets professionally cold to defend her work.

"Your Captain of the Guard status does not mean I report to you or have to inform you of anything."

The rage of Undyne only increases.

"What did you say?!"

Alphys adjusts her glasses, snidely flipping Undyne off with her middle finger.

"I am the Royal Scientist. I work under and report directly to the King himself. My rank supersedes yours. And as such, unless it is a matter that requires your assistance, I will inform only those that are needed to be informed. Understood?"

Undyne snarls beneath her helmet. This type of thing wasn't uncommon. She knows that Alphys separates herself when it comes to her work. Undyne does it too but tries not to be so obnoxious. It's moments like this that make her crush a little less on this lizard girl.

"But to answer your question...This human has been living in the Ruins for quite some time. Sans and Papyrus have been monitoring her for me."

The skeletons? Those sneaky bastards! She bet Papyrus was thinking he'd use this to one-up her.

"Why use them and not me?"

"Really? You can't stand the cold and they live there. It's a no brainer."

Good point.

"Okay...But why monitor? The law clearly states that the soul of any human is to be collected. No exceptions!"

Undyne summons a spear and readies to spike the human through the face. That is till Alphys moves over to the human and interacts with one of the machines, making her soul slowly emerge...it's white. This sight has the captain of the guard drop her weapon and remove her helm to ensure her eye was not playing a trick on her. Without her helm, the true visage of the Captain of the Guard is shown. Undyne is a piscine anthropomorphic monster. She has blue scales and a long red hair she keeps in a wild ponytail. Red and blue fins on the sides of her head act like ears, she has no nose to speak of. Her teeth are sharp yellow daggers like a barracuda or shark. She has red eye shadow and has an eye-patch on her left eye. Her good eye has a black vertical pupil and a yellow sclera.

"It's...White? What the hell? It was light blue on TV. I saw it!"

"We all did. And it was purple when I first examined her. This is why I've had her under severance and not executed. This human...It's not like the humans we've encountered or the ones in our texts. She seems to be able to change traits or possesses multiple traits."

"How is that possible? Is that even a thing? Is that a thing humans can do now?"

"I haven't collected enough data to determine that. My current theory is that she may be a random mutation, an evolutionary anomaly of sorts. Though, from the information I have gotten, it seems the humans of now have indeed fully lost their usage of magic."

"I thought those past ones seemed off."

"Yes. The previous humans were lacking in their levels of magic but they still possessed it. This one, however, according to my scans had no magic in her soul prior to coming to the Underground."

Scientist say what?

"Wait...What's that supposed to mean?"

Alphys pulls out what looks to be her cell phone and moves it over the soul, scanning till it beeps. She then shows the results to the Captain.

"There's at least 20% to 30% magic now resonating in her soul. Enough to trigger magic prepubescence."

Undyne snickers at the thought of such a thing and it nearly breaks Alphys's composure.

"You can't be serious."

"I am. I had to stabilize the flux with those patches we give out to teens. It's why she's about 30%."

"Dare I ask...How a non-magic soul suddenly has magic?"

"Not sure. Perhaps it's the nature of such a weak soul to pull magic when it can, however, it can. Be it from the surroundings, food, or contact with other beings of magic. Who's to say? Or her soul could be like a parasite and leeching magic for as of yet unknown reasons. I'm just throwing ideas at this point."

"So...What you're saying is the human is dangerous."

"All humans are dangerous, Undyne. But this one? *scoff* Since being down here her LV hasn't budged from its base level."

The Captain is intrigued.

"Has it not been in a fight?"

"Quite the opposite. There's plenty of telltale signs, not to mention video surveillance, that indicates she's been attacked."

"So the wimp flees? Pathetic."

"Sometimes. Most of the time they endure the fight and find a way to end it without fighting back."

A gruff laugh leaves the fish woman.

"Pacifism? Down here? Now that's a joke."

Alphys checks on a liquid-filled bag that's emptying into the human's veins.

"As dumb as it may be, her strategy is a good thing..."

She increases the dripping.

"By not attacking, she isn't killing anyone. And by not killing anyone, she isn't gaining LV. And you know what that means."

Undyne grins like a hungry barracuda.

"It makes it all the easier to collect the last soul."

Alphys nods and removes her glasses to clean them.

"Still...With the number of unknown variables, I'd have to insist on further study of this soul and not just yet bringing it to the King, even if she dies."

"How come?"

"Like I said, too many unknowns. If Asgore wishes to fuse with the seven souls it would be best to make sure this one doesn't overpower or corrupt his own."

"Hmmm...I guess that's fair. We don't need to waste the human souls and lose the King if we can help it."

"My thoughts exactly."

Alphys puts her glasses back on and steps away from the human.

"Come, Undyne. We must leave now."

Confusion comes to the Captain.

"What? Why? You're really going to leave her unattended?"

Alphys grows colder.

"Do not be so stupid."

Undyne had to bite her tongue hard.

"I never said she'd be alone."

With a simple button press on her phone, the sound of speeding rubber screeches towards them, the door opening seconds later.

"IS IT TIME? SHE'S IN STABLE CONDITION?"

Mettaton skids to a stop with excitement.

"She's stable. And under heavy sedation. You may proceed with the prep work."

Digitized giggling pours from the automaton.

"EXCELLENT. LADIES, IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME..."

Undyne is ushered out by Alphys before she can question things.

"Um..."

"Don't think about it too much."

"But..."

"As they say...The show must go on. I suggest you stick around and watch what unfolds."

Undyne groans to herself.

"I'll make that spicy ramen that you like."

"...Extra chili flakes?"

"Yep."

"Hot damn!"

With the women gone, Mettaton turns his attention to the human on the slab.

"OH DARLING..."

A compartment opens on his side and he extracts what looks like a kit of some kind.

"WE HAVE SO MUCH WORK TO DO."

[AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER-BEHIND THE LAB]

The wall of the building opens up, a split door allows the heat of Hotland in while the unconscious human carried by the killer robot comes out.

"FINALLY...THE SHOW CAN COMMENCE ONCE AGAIN."

While two of his arms set the human down his other two open a bottle of smelling salts and wave it under her nose, slowly rousing her back to consciousness.

"WAKIE WAKIE, DARLING."

She groans in delirium and sits up. Medical grade sedatives really pack a punch.

"FOCUS DEAR. HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP?"

Mettaton holds up his four arms and each is displaying two fingers. Her head wobbles with dizziness and she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

"Mettaton? *yawn* Why is it so hot?"

Why did she have to be so cute when so messed up?

"I'LL ANSWER YOU IF YOU ANSWER ME."

She shakes her head clear and stares at him for a bit.

"Eight."

He sighs with relief and helps her up before patting her head.

"GOOD. YOU'RE PERFECTLY FINE."

"Not entirely sure that's what I'd call it after the game you made me do. But whatever. Least I ain't dead."

"THERE WE GO. ALWAYS LOOKING ON THE POSITIVE SIDE OF THINGS."

Her senses coming back, she looks at her form and begins growling at the mechanical television star.

"IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?"

"I'm going to ask this as calmly as I can and I want you to be honest...Did you dress me in my sleep?!"

In Mettaton's defense, it's not like he could leave her in her bloody outfit or the medical gown. And to his credit, he made it for her to be both fashionable as well as comfortable in Hotland's arid heat. A black zip back cutout crisscross cami top with MTT emblazoned in red across the chest, waist-high black garter shorts with tiny Mettaton studs along the straps, black ripped footless tights end in knee-high black riding boots that have red MTT zippers, and to add to her annoyance her nails were also painted red. The only normal thing about her was he kept her hair tied in a ponytail but moved it higher up to be more lively than her usual dead weight droop.

"TO BE FAIR, DARLING, YOU WERE A BLOODY MESS AFTER THE SHOW. IT WOULD BE TASTELESS TO HAVE MY CO-STAR CONTINUE IN ANYTHING LESS THAN THE BEST."

She gets flustered.

"That's not the point! You could've waited till I was awake and I would've dressed myself! Instead, you did so while I was vulnerable."

She shudders and looks away from him.

"To think...I started to like you."

An exclamation mark flashes on his screen.

"But it seems you're just as bad as the scum on the surface."

He panics and waves his hands in defense.

"W-WAIT A SECOND, DEAR, IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!"

"Then...Aside from seeing my frail body, do you deny the obvious usage of me as brand advertisement?"

The look she gives him is cold and hurt, making him flinch.

"UM...WELL...I..."

She turns around with her hands on her hips and smirks.

"We're not on camera right now, are we?"

His screen flashes in confusion.

"...NO? NO CAMERAS ARE ACTIVE AT THIS MOMENT. WHY?"

"Heh...Because you're being you right now. The same guy I got to know over the phone. TV you is more cold and sticks to the script, like a soulless machine. This you, the ghost in the shell, this guy I like and willing to work with."

He's caught off guard by that remark.

"UM...WHAT EXACTLY DID YOU MEAN BY THAT?"

"Which part?"

"GHOST IN THE SHELL."

"Oh, that? It's the name of a manga/anime series. The setting is a future where technology is so advanced that it becomes an existential crisis if souls can transfer over to pure machine bodies and if artificial intelligence can gain humanity through cyber-evolution. It's really deep."

"OH."

"It also is a play on the fact you're literally a ghost in a robot shell."

He flinches.

"W-WHAT? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE..."

"Dude, don't lie. We're not on camera and Alphys already confirmed my suspicions."

He blanks for a moment sighing.

"WELL...BRAVO, DARLING. YOU'VE SOLVED MY GREATEST SECRET."

She shrugs.

"It's no big deal. And don't worry about anyone else knowing, I ain't a snitch."

"SUCH A CLEVER GIRL. I KNEW YOU'D BE PERFECT FOR THIS."

Her arms fold.

"While I was messing with you before, I am pissed about this."

"WHICH PART?"

"This! This isn't my style. It feels weird and shows way too much skin for my liking."

At this rate, he was lucky she couldn't see her reflection or she'd be pissed about how he did her makeup. Red eye-shadow to create a smoky effect on her eyelids. Mascara to make her long lashes even longer. A bold black swoop of liquid eyeliner all the way to the outer corners of her eyes and swept a little up at the end. And the pièce de résistance is the luscious red lipstick to make it all pop.

"BUT, DARLING, YOUR OLD CLOTHES WERE RUINED. BESIDES, WITH HOW THICK THAT FABRIC WAS, YOU'D DIHYDRATE IN MOMENTS OUT HERE. AND NO ONE WANTS A SWEATY DRIED OUT SACK ON SCREEN."

She leers.

"NOT SAYING YOU ARE ONE. MAKING THAT CLEAR HERE."

She sighs.

"I see your point. I ain't happy about it, but I see the reason behind it."

"GOOD."

She checks herself and gets upset.

"My items? Where are my items?!"

"I TOLD YOU, YOUR CLOTHES WERE A MESS AND I CHANGED YOU INTO THIS."

She grabs him.

"Metta, my buddy, I need my gear. My stats are crap without my items. Please tell me you didn't trash them...Please?!"

To understand her panic he checks her.

[Lynsie - LV:1 - HP: 40 ATK: 20 DEF: 11 - Too nice for her own good.]

Her HP increased? How? Her LV hasn't increased. Did she earn EXP in the game and recovery? Wait...The other stats are dangerously weak. Hmmm...This gives him a wicked idea. If his screen could grin it would be wide and twisted.

"OH HEAVENS NO, DARLING. YOUR POSSESSIONS ARE SAFE."

Her eyes light up.

"Sweet! Can I please have them?"

He grabs her waist and scoots her back from him a bit.

"UNFORTUNATELY, I DO NOT HAVE THEM ON ME."

"But...W-Where are they then?"

All four hands point out into the distance.

"YOU CAN HAVE YOUR ITEMS BACK...ONCE YOU MAKE TO THE NEXT FILM SET."

Her jaw drops.

"Dude! Are you freaking serious? Do we see the same stats? Because I'm fairly sure I can get one-shot killed out here."

"RELAX, DARLING..."

"Relax?! Says the guy that literally can't be hurt!"

He waves dismissively.

"AND THEY CALL ME DRAMATIC. LOOK, I CAN'T JUST GIVE YOU THEM BACK NOR CAN I TAKE YOU TO THE NEXT SET. YOU SHOULD KNOW THE REASON WHY."

She glares before pouting in defeat.

"The law requires you to still attempt to 'capture' me."

His screen flashes.

"BINGO! AND TO PROVE THAT I AM FOLLOWING THE LAW WHILE STILL WORKING WITH YOU, YOU WILL BE TELEVISED AS YOU MAKE YOUR WAY THROUGH MY SHOW GAUNTLET."

She looks at him funny.

"TO BE HONEST IT'S JUST NORMAL ENVIRONMENT AND PIPEWORK FOR THE CORE. BUT I DID ADD OBSTACLES AND PUZZLES, SO TECHNICALLY IT COUNTS."

Her funny look grows.

"And you film back there in all that?"

"IT MAKES MORE SENSE WHEN YOU SEE IT."

"I guess."

All four hands slap together in a loud clap.

"GREAT! NOW THAT THAT IS ALL SAID AND DONE, HERE'S THE DEAL. ONCE YOU TURN THAT CORNER AND BEGIN THE TREK, YOU'LL BE BACK ON TV."

"Okay."

"TRY NOT TO BREAK THE FOURTH WALL, WE DON'T NEED VIEWERS KNOWING YOU'VE BEEN HERE LONGER THAN ADVERTISED AND WITH THE HELP OF OTHERS."

"True, very true."

"AND SINCE YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR PHONE..."

"Can I get that back too? I swear I won't make calls."

"OR TEXT?"

"Did you even see my phone? It can't text or take pictures."

"HMMM...I'LL THINK ABOUT IT."

"Please and thank you."

"LIKE I WAS SAYING SINCE YOU DON'T HAVE IT AND MAY NEED HELP UNDERSTANDING A FEW OF THE MORE TRICKIER PUZZLES..."

On hand retreats into his body and pops out with a small clip-like earring that, you guessed it, looks like him.

"ATTACH THIS TO YOUR EAR AND YOU'LL BE ABLE TO HEAR MY MELODIOUS VOICE WHEN I NOTICE YOU'RE NOT PROGRESSING."

"Not that I'm against it, but isn't this cheating?"

He chuckles while bringing her close and clipping it to her right ear.

"DON'T THINK OF IT LIKE THAT. IT'S LIKE YOU SAID, YOU'RE WILLING TO WORK WITH ME AND WE BOTH DON'T WANT YOU DEAD. YOU'LL STILL BE GOING AT THIS ON YOUR OWN, BUT WITH A LITTLE LIFELINE THAT GIVES YOU CLUES AND NOT FULL ANSWERS. NOW DOES THAT SOUND MORE OKAY?"

"FANTASTIC!"

He spins around and shoves her to the ground before retracting his wheel to begin hovering.

"WELL, DARLING, THE NEXT WE MEET I HOPE IT TO BE SOON AND WHILE YOU STILL BREATHE."

"Um...Me too."

He takes off like a rocket to the next stage, kicking up dust and smoke in his wake.

"FAIR THEE WELL...!"

The cloud takes a bit to settle and the human finds herself alone. The path ahead is unknown but the only way to go. Somehow being behind the building she thinks she was held within and with no door to speak of insight. She silently prayed that her trust in the robot that abducted her was well placed...even though that thought made her question her ability to pick people to trust. Either way, her journey through game show hell begins now as she walks the lonely road that is way too narrow and high up for her liking.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

Nothing. Nothing but re-run filler has been on the TV for hours. And all they could do was wait. Wait for any change on that damn picture box. Papyrus was doing his best to keep a worried Toriel and tense Grillby from burning the house down. Sans on the other hand was lost in his mind, retracing the history of his time in the LAB and its many rooms. Where were they hiding the human? What new rooms were added since he left? Could Alphys still be using the old underground facility?

*obnoxious fanfare*

The television cuts from its old showing to Mettaton live out in Hotland, on real clues can be seen as he hovers about the volcanic rock.

"SORRY FOR THE DELAY MY DEADLY GUYS AND DOLLS. SEEMS I WAS A BIT TOO ROUGH DURING OUR LAST GAME AND MY CO-STAR NEEDED EXTRA TIME TO RECOVER. GUESS I DON'T KNOW MY OWN STRENGTH."

His nonchalant attitude and words were far from comforting to the four.

"BUT FEAR NOT, AS SHE HAS MADE A FULL RECOVERY!"

A weight is lifted from the room.

"IN FACT, SHE'S ON THE START OF THE NEXT PHASE OF OUR SHOW. A DANGEROUS GAUNTLET OF OBSITCLES, DAUNTING PUZZLES, AND THE RANDOM VAGABOND THAT MAY OR MAY NOT JUST HAPPEN TO BE WANDERING AROUND."

The video feed shifts to the human on a conveyor belt. Merely scrolling along in a tacky outfit and makeup trying not to look down.

"The fuck is she wearing?!"

Grillby fumes. Toriel is equally unhappy about her daughter's new look. Sans rolls his eyes, finding it somewhat funny that Grillby is displeased by this when did way worse before.

"HER GOAL, REACH THE END TO BEGIN OUR NEXT SHOW SEGMENT. SHE WILL REPEAT THIS TWO MORE TIMES BEFORE ENDING WITH OUR FOURTH AND FINAL ENCOUNTER."

That doesn't sound good. The feed zooms in on her.

"WILL SHE SURVIVE AND EARN HER LIFE TO LIVE FOR ANOTHER DAY? OR WILL THIS BE THE DAY THE LAST SOUL IS COLLECTED? WE SHALL FIND OUT SOON ENOUGH. IN THE MEANTIME, I NEED TO AQUIRE A FEW ODDS AND ENDS, SO I LEAVE YOU TO OUR DARLING'S DARING DO. ENJOY."

The camera switches to a different angle and continues to follow her. Before the words can even leave Papyrus's mouth Sans is already shaking his head.

"i still don't know where that is."

"ARE YOU SURE?"

"trust me, i don't recognize where she's at."

"Don't you have a post in Hotland?"

Grillby points out much to Papyrus's puzzlement.

"YOU HAVE A POST IN HOTLAND?"

Sans sighs.

"it's like i told ya, i do more than ya think i do. i have posts at the start of snowdin forest, waterfall's beginning, level two of hotland, and i am the one that waits in the judgment hall."

Papyrus is even more confused but Toriel starts to broil.

"You...You were the one all along, were you not?"

Sans balls his fists, bracing for this.

"You were the one that killed the humans that left the Ruins."

No Tori...not all...just one...over and over again.

"no. i haven't killed anyone."

That gave her some relief. But more questions.

"Then if not you, who does harm them?"

"asgore does."

And that killed it. Her eyes sink with a flame, one of hate and despair. It's painfully obvious. She's going to snap.

"ya should know he doesn't take pleasure in doin' it."

Her expression falters.

"it's a lot of weight on that old goat's shoulders. what with bein' a king and everyone expectin' him to solve all our problems, like breakin' the barrier. it's one thing to kill someone that's wronged ya. it's much harder to look an innocent in the eyes and end them."

She frowns, seeing some truth in his words.

"ya may hate his guts, but he's harborin' the biggest burden. bein' the one to harvest the souls."

"But..."

Does she still wish to fight?

"But the law states humans are to be killed on sight, right? You can not tell me the Guard has not spilled blood in all this time!"

"ACTUALLY..."

Papyrus chimes in.

"WHILE IT'S TRUE, THAT IS THE BLUNTEST FORM OF THE LAW, IT'S NOT THE EXACT WORDING. *AHEM* IF A LIVING HUMAN IS FOUND IN THE UNDERGROUND THAN THEY ARE TO BE ENGAGED AND CAPTURED. EXTREME CAUTION AND VIOLENCE IS TO BE USED IN THE APRENTION OF HUMAN SOULS. NOWHERE IS IT SAID WE ARE TO KILL ON SIGHT. BUT THE CURRENT CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD HAS INTERPRETED THIS LAW IN HER OWN WAY AND INFORCES IT AS SUCH...DEATH TO ALL HUMANS. NO EXCEPTIONS. OVERTIME, THAT'S HOW THE LAW EVOLVED TO BE KNOWN TO THE PUBLIC."

"Why?"

"captain undyne lost her family in the war. that kind of wound doesn't heal easily. it didn't help much that the hammer of punishment took her in as his own."

That name struck a chord.

"Gerson? I suppose that does make sense. He was ruthless in his prime. And he left our court when we choose to surrender. Said we were showing weakness by giving in. So many were already lost...We wanted to end the slaughter before the dust count became unrecognizable."

"seems that spite got passed on in undyne."

"OUR CAPTAIN GOES BY ANOTHER...THE SPEAR OF PUNISHMENT."

Her worry overcomes any animosity she held.

"I pray my child never encounters your Captain."

One can only hope.

"Shit..."

Grillby gets their attention.

"She's been spotted."

Eyes return to the television and the footage shown. The human had passed the large system of conveyor belts going forward and backward. Exhaust ports of vermilion flame burst from nearby pipes in the background, the wooshing sound of steam and cogs adding to the scenery. Reaching the end of the conveyor belts, the human comes into view of several small islands surrounded by boiling lava. Most of these islands hold steam vents. However, the human is unaware of this due to being blocked by a Tsunderplane.

[HOTLAND: LEVEL ONE]

Damn this heat. Damn this plan of yours, Mettaton. And damn this odd-looking monster that won't get out of my way. It appears to resemble a regular real-world modern airplane, an Airbus A340-300 to be exact, wearing a black mob cap with thin red ribbons on it, a faint blush tints its nosecone.

"Um...Do you mind?"

I move slightly to the side, trying to give it room while avoiding the edge. But it just moves the same as I do, almost like a mock mimic. Maybe it's just a fluke. I try it again. And again it does it.

"You're not gonna let me by, are you?"

My soul feels gripped and without skipping a beat, my blue soul comes out, a battle begins.

[Tsunderplane gets in the way! Not on purpose or anything.]

Wait...Don't tell me that name means what I think it does. What are my options?

[FIGHT]

[ACT]

[̴͝SP͜͞E͡L̵͜L͟͠͏]͘͢

[ITEM]

[MERCY]

That weird one came back? It looks so...messed up. I won't touch it. Maybe as a last resort, but not if I can help it. Let's see what this thing is made of.

[ACT selected.]

[New options available.]

[CHECK]

[FLIRT]

[APPROACH]

I am not doing those last two before I know what this thing can do.

[CHECK selected.]

[TSUNDERPLANE – HP: 80 ATK: 25 DEF: 26 – Seems mean, but does it secretly like you?]

"The fuck...?"

This plane catches an attitude.

"No way! Why would I like YOU?!"

Especially since we've only just met. Wait...

"You can talk?!"

It moves it's wings up, summing its attack. Several smaller planes fly horizontally straight from either side above me, dropping bombs that look like miniature nukes. Once a bomb hits the ground, a vertical line of toxic smoke appears and blocks my sight momentarily. All in all, this is not easy to avoid because of the lack of space and I end up taking a really nasty hit.

[HP ████████████████ 15/40]

I'm too afraid to check my wound. My ears are ringing and I feel damp somewhere on my side. I won't stand another hit like that. Damn it! I need my defense items!

*bang*

My head is smacked hard by metal.

[Tsunderplane "accidentally" bumps you with its wing.]

It pushed me back. It's keeping distance. Why it's not like it needs the room, damn thing can fly. I wonder...What'll happen if I get close? But first I need to heal.

[ITEM selected.]

I need to remember to thank Flowey when I see him again. If it wasn't for his prodding I'd have nothing in my inventory.

["Butterscotch Cheesecake" - All HP - Butterscotch cheesecake, one slice.]

"Mmmm...So good. Thanks, mama."

[You ate the Butterscotch Cheesecake. Your HP was maxed out.]

[HP ██████████████████████████████████████████ 40/40]

Ah, much better. Now I just need to avoid getting hit again. My turn ends.

"Hmph! Id... Idiot! Don't get in my way!"

You blocked me, asshat.

She uses a different attack but one that's somewhat easier to deal with. Large planes fly directly at me, leaving a horizontal-moving toxic trail of smoke balls. I am grateful this was it's second go. I dodge this one better, no damage taken.

[Tsunderplane shakes its nose dismissively at you.]

"_... Human..."

Now it speaks in emojis? I mean, I guess that's a thing that can happen, Gaster speaks in hands and junk.

"Something wrong? I can't help but notice."

Going off its behavior and name, I put some real emphasis on the word notice. It flinches. Got you.

Tsundere is a Japanese term for a character development process that depicts a person who is initially cold and sometimes even hostile before gradually showing a warmer, friendlier side over time. The word is derived from the terms tsun tsun ('to turn away in disgust or anger') and dere dere ('to become affectionate'). They're the opposite of a Yandere. Yandere is a Japanese term for a person who is initially very loving and gentle to someone or at least innocent before their devotion becomes destructive in nature, often through violence and/or brutality. The term is derived from the words yanderu (a mental or emotional illness) and dere dere. They are different and yet have one weakness...Wanting the attention of Senpai, the person they have a fondness for. Why do I know all this? Because I'm a big freaking dork! I can use this. I just don't understand why it would have such feelings.

"...H-human ... ...?"

Now to test my theory.

[APPROACH selected.]

[You get close to Tsunderplane. But not too close.]

"Eeeeh? H-human ...?"

It's getting flustered. I'm not proud of this method but if it works to keep me alive, so be it.

"You don't mind me getting close, right?"

[Tsunderplane looks over, then turns up its nose.]

"Huh!? Y-you sicko!"

It spins on heels it doesn't have and nearly takes my head. This ain't going to be easy.

The mini planes return but something's off. Six planes attacked me before, but now there's only three. Easier than before yet still dangerous. That smoke is noxious and obnoxious.

[Tsunderplane gives you a condescending barrel roll.]

"Don't think I'm going easy on you! It's not like I LIKE you."

Your actions say otherwise, so does that growing blush. Time for phase two.

[FLIRT selected.]

[You tell Tsunderplane it has an impressive wingspan.]

"I must say, birds wish they could have wings like that. Very cool."

It covers its nosecone in its wingtips.

"Ah...is that true...?"

"Why would I lie?"

I think this is working. It summons the large planes again but this time the planes are surrounded by narrow green auras and the smoke trails aren't moving. Curiosity has me touching the green and finding it does two things. One, it doesn't hurt me. And two, it's blushing more excitedly. After touching four Tsunderplane is practically glowing, or it could be the headlights. And when that last sixth plane passes Tsunderplane looks away shyly and starts to give off the smell of an airport perfume counter. Maybe just one more to seal the deal.

[FLIRT selected.]

[You tell Tsunderplane it has cute winglets.]

"Awww...Those wingtip fences are so cute! Then again, on such an adorable aircraft, that's to be expected."

It loses its mind. Jetting high up and aileron rolls three times before zipping off into the distance.

[YOU WON!]

[You earned 0 XP and 60 gold.]

Damn! That's some gold! Much needed due to spending all my gold in Waterfall so long ago.

"Not my worse fight but one of the more interesting ones. Till we meet again, Tsunderplane-chan."

I wave to where I saw Tsunderplane fly off and return to my journey. However, this is short-lived once again, but not by a monster. I think this is one of the obstacles Mettaton told me about. The land is broken. Vents shoot out big gusts of steam. I think he intends for me to use these to traverse the area since there are painted red arrows on the one in front of me and the one across from it. The flaw in this plan of his is this...In trying to have seen any of this, I ended up looking down.

Sweat begins to slide down my brow, but not from the heat. My wide eyes can't look away from the high as hell drop to lava that I'm meant to cross. My body starts to tremble. My breathing harsh. I'm going into a panic.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

That was a stressful fight to watch. The massive damage the human took at the start made it clear she had been stripped of her armor, adding harsher levels of difficulty to an already challenging task. But they know her well by this point. She's clever. She's adaptable. She's stubborn as hell. And she knows they're likely watching.

["Butterscotch Cheesecake" - All HP - Butterscotch cheesecake, one slice.]

"Mmmm...So good. Thanks, mama."

[You ate the Butterscotch Cheesecake. Your HP was maxed out.]

[HP ██████████████████████████████████████████ 40/40]

Toriel's motherly heart was swelling. This one. This was the one she believed could survive in this hell. And her non-violent victory against the Tsunderplane made it more clear that her daughter wasn't so much the child she believed her to be.

"Yeah! Way to go, pussycat!"

Grillby is at least in better spirits. He nearly torched the couch when he thought of Mettaton stripping her of her armor.

"SHE'S NOT MOVING."

True. The human had won the fight but was now frozen in place by the vents, fear dripped from her face.

"uh oh."

This got attention.

"What is wrong? Why does she not continue?"

"pap and me found this out about her when she first came out of the ruins. she's afraid of heights. and if she doesn't move soon, she'll pass out under the pressure."

"But...It's not like she can just leave. And if she falls..."

No one wanted to finish that thought.

"THE HELL...?"

Something new appears and has their attention.

"Flowey?"

[HOTLAND: LAB]

Undyne had been watching the many screens Alphys controls as part of Mettaton's live feed broadcast. Nothing had been particularly interesting, not even that bogus fight with the Tsunderplane. But then...

"The fuck...? Alphys, you seeing this?"

Of course, the lizard was scribbling like a madman on her notepad. This was something new.

"Huh...Show me what ya got, human."

The fish woman resumes watching with a hearty slurp of noddles.

[HOTLAND: LEVEL ONE]

It's happening again. My legs turn to jelly and I drop to my knees. I can't do this. I can't move. What if I fall? I don't want to burn to death. I heard it's not quick either like how movies portray it. The pain overload is what kills you. I don't want that. I ̕ca͢n̛'́t ͢de̶al͏! Í ̸c̷̨a̴n'͡t!͘

*STATIC* HELLO? DARLING? CAN YOU HEAR ME?

The earpiece Mettaton gave me goes off. But something's interfering.

*STATIC* YOU NEED TO GET GOING, DEAR. DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE STEAM. IT WON'T BURN. THOUGH YOU MIGHT GET A BIT TENDER IF YOU PLAY IN THEM TOO LONG.

T̷̵h̷́at̵̨'̧͞s̵̸͞ ́̀not ̷̕͜h́el̴͘̕p̛i̸͜ng͟!̢͟

I feel it starting. The blood dripping from my nose. Why? Why am I so weak?!

*STATIC* DARLING? COME ON. YOU NEED TO MOVE. WE HAD A DEAL.

F̴̶͢u͘͞c̶͞k͏ ͟͏̴ý̢ou ̸́a̶̕͜n҉��d҉̛ ̶̀y͢o̡u̸͠r̸ ̧́͝d͞e̢͜ą̕l͢͝! ̨̛I͝͞͝'̶m̢҉ n̡o̡͜͝t̴ ̵҉̛m̀͏o͘͝v̴́͠i͏̀n͟͡ǵ͜!̴

Strange energy begins to crackle around me. I don't know what it is and it's freaking me out more!

"There you are..."

Life returns to me upon hearing Flowey's voice.

"You just always seem to...The hell is up with your face?!"

"B̢͢͞ŗ̡̀o̸t̡h̡͟e̵̛r͘̕͞?"

The strange energy slowly dissipates, Flowey being here is calming me down, though the sight still unnerves him.

"Easy now. Just calm down. You don't want to overtax your soul."

"S̨-̀Sơr͡ry̷.̛.͞.I.̶..͢*shaky inhale*I looked down."

Flowey moves over to me and pats my leg with a tiny vine.

"Don't worry, your big brother's here for you."

I give him a nervous smile and wipe my nose.

"So...What's wrong with my face?"

"Uh...Nothing. You look fine."

I look at him flatly.

"I have makeup on, don't I?"

"Well..."

God dang it, Mettaton.

"Fudge it. As long as I'm not dolled up like a clown, ignore it. Right now I need help."

"Fine with me, but first...I want an apology for that stunt at the bar."

I nod.

"I'm sorry. It was a dirty move. But..."

He pouts.

"You wanted to talk to him without me butting in."

I claw the ground.

"...There are things I still can't tell you."

"When? When can you open up to me?"

"Soon. Lots of stuff I know is in pieces. I just need to figure out how it all fits to understand."

"Like what?"

"Well for starters...Getting through this crap."

Flowey looks out at the vents.

"You really can't do this?"

"No. My acrophobia, paranoia, vertigo, and lack of self-confidence prevents it."

"Sheesh. At least your honest."

I sit on my heels and slap my face a few times, trying to psych myself out.

"The body and mind both have their own ways of keeping themselves safe. Even if one of them is tricking the other. My body won't move if my brain keeps telling it no because it feels in danger."

"Hmmm...And I take it you're not up for that blindfold idea again."

I look at him confused.

"Over lava?!"

He sighs.

"Yeah, fair enough."

This sucks.

"Oh! I got an idea. What if I carry you over?"

Flower-goat-boy say what?

"Not to put you down, bro, but I ain't exactly light and I don't want you to hurt yourself trying."

He winks.

"Trust me. I'm stronger than you think."

I don't doubt you, I'm more worried I'll freak out if he does. But what choice do I have? Sit her forever or move forward.

"Okay. But not yet."

"Huh?"

I feel the ground again.

"This is rock and yet you're moving through it..."

"Yeah?"

"Can you scout ahead through this vent thing? Tell me if other monsters or crap is hiding?"

He nods.

"Can do."

He sinks into the ground. Here's hoping he stays out of sight of any hostiles. A few times I see his petal head pop up from time to time, but in areas I can't see I get a bit shook. Especially when he's out of sight for too long. I count the seconds between each puff of steam, giving up because it's too fast. A small rumble off to my side, part of Flowey's stem is protruding but seems to be having trouble coming out. With some wiggling and what looks like some tugging, he emerges yet only partly.

"*strain* H-Hey...I found something you can use."

I'm curious. I help chip some ground away and something metal appears. Looping my finger through a hole, I help him pull this mystery thing out and wow it puts up quite the struggle. With a final double pull from the both of us, the object reveals itself...a frying pan?

"The hell...?"

"I found it at one of the areas off over there. It once belonged to a human that fell a long time ago."

All this mismatch stuff. What were the humans that fell before even doing to fall with such stuff? Whatever, an item gained is better than no items at all.

[You equipped the Nasty Pan.]

[You gain 10 Attack.]

[You don't know if it's covered in old food or gore. Either way, the damage is rather consistent. Consumables items will heal 4 more HP.]

"Damn. Was really hoping for some defense boost."

"Sorry. How uneven does this make your stats now?"

"See for yourself."

He's confused till he CHECKs me.

[Lynsie - LV:1 - HP: 40 ATK: 30 DEF: 11 - Too nice for her own good.]

"What the...? What happened?!"

I stand and stretch.

"I got mugged."

He frowns.

"The robot?"

I answer with a nod and change the line of chatter to current events.

"Was there anyone out there?"

He shakes his head.

"At least that's some good news. So how do we do this?"

He moves back, over to where the path sort-of splits.

"This way."

With no other moves, I follow him to a spot where a vent is missing and he points to the land across it.

"Over there is the exit. If you can not freak out, I should be able to take you over there."

My spine shivers.

"Are you certain you can lift me over? That's at least a ten-foot gap, give or take."

"Trust me. I know what I'm capable of."

I swallow what little courage I have and shut my eyes tight.

"Please, make it quick."

"Don't worry, I got you."

There's silence for a bit. Then something slithers under then over my shoulders and slinks to wrap around my waist. I want to look but when my feet leave the ground my entire body clenches.

"Easy now. No sudden moves."

That doesn't help.

I do my best to block out everything. Like the feel of wind brushing past and intense heat that wafts up from below. My nerves are threatening to go off again. The instant I can feel a foot touch anything solid my eyes shoot open.

"See? Told you I could do it."

He's already on this side with me. Probably moved here first then reached over and carried my dumb frightened ass over. Bless you, super flower-goat-boy! The vines release and I'm once more on terra firma. I use this moment to hug Flowey.

"Thank you!"

He chuckles and now it's two going through Mettaton's show. If only I didn't leave my bag at home. Then he'd be riding with me. Then again, Mettaton would've taken that too and really screwed me over.

FINALLY. AS TOUCHING AS THAT WAS, DARLING, YOU NEED TO GET MOVING. WE'RE ALREADY BEHIND SCHEDULE AS IT IS.

I pop my neck and nod. The sooner I get through this the sooner it ends and we can go home.

"You okay with following me in case of other bull?"

"Oh yeah. You're going to need me. There are more vents past this.

I groan and silently curse everything before walking. Upon entering the north path past the steam vents, we come across another path made of pipework that veers to the right. This would be super chill if it weren't for the freaking lasers!

"This shouldn't be a big deal."

I look down at Flowey funny.

"Dude...Do you not see the lasers?"

He shakes his head.

"Don't think of them like you think they are. Those are made with magic energy. You remember what I told you about orange and light blue magic, don't you?"

It takes a second for that to click in my head. My small smirk lets him know I'm not completely stupid.

"See you on the other side."

He retreats to the ground and has to move through that, not like he can go through metal shit. So I take on this obstacle. There are nine lasers in total that go the order of orange, orange, cyan, orange, cyan, orange, cyan, cyan, and orange, with the cyan ones moving around. So by the logic of magic properties, I move through the orange ones and pause for the cyan ones till it's safe to keep going. In no time I'm at the end, a large metal pillar has a big red switch and out of spite I flip it. This effectively turns the laser off. Sweet! That was easy. Onward I go. The path veers upward and, can you guess, has more of those damn vents. A base one that changes directions, a one on the left and right side as well as in front. The path wants me to go forward but is blocked by a locked door. No doubt each side has a puzzle that opens each lock. Gotta love real-life video game logic.

"Not so bad, right?"

Speaks the emerging flora to my right.

"Still in one piece."

I joke to myself to keep the dumb side of me from saying something to jinx me.

"Need another lift?"

Looking at the gap between vents, it's not so evil as the first ones, maybe about four or five feet.

"I think I can manage this one."

He's relieved, thinking I'm being a big girl and fighting my fear.

"Great! I knew you could...wait...What are you...?!"

Don't think. Just act. Fear can't affect you if you don't realize it's there.

I take a short sprint and make nice bound over to where he's at. He's rather confused.

"The hell? What about your phobia?"

"Easy...Didn't think about it."

I head for the puzzle and he's flabbergasted.

"Wha...but...You still could've used the vents!"

"Nope!"

He catches up to me as I get distracted looking at two monsters sitting at the cliff's edge.

"You scare me something."

"How do you think I feel? I scare myself and I'm the one doing it."

There's a room nearby but these two just pull my attention. There's what appears to be a pale-green dragon in a black business suit and slick shade, like some sort of scaly lawyer. A black wisp-like monsters that reminds me of Grillby, even sporting glasses, in a gray tank-top and red pants drinking something steaming hot, dude looks chill in this heat. They don't seem to notice us and I can hardly hear bits of their chit chat. Something about how they're glad that the reactivated puzzles are preventing them from progressing as they do not want to go to work. They are also muttering some other stuff but I head for the room before they see this random human.

Inside the puzzle room, I'm met by two things. The puzzle itself and a disembodied fox head wearing sunglasses. The fuck am I tripping on?!

"The door leading through the area is closed?"

Dear God, it bounces as it talks and speaks with an upward inflection like valley speak! It hurts my brain. Good news, it has no clue what I am. Yay!

"So I tried the puzzle? But I kept running out of ammo, and it kept restarting?"

"...Bummer."

"And my two co-workers won't help? It's like they don't even wanna go to work?"

"Harsh."

"Why don't you try? Try using the console?"

I shrug and give this thing a little checking out. No real help from the fox so maybe the puzzle will tell me what to do. Oh, look! The convenient "?" icon is super tiny and hidden in the corner while also being somewhat the same color as the background. That's not a dick move, oh no, not in the slightest.

(Shoot the opposing ship!)

(Move the boxes to complete your mission.)

Okay, that's useful. Let's see...Four immovable blocks, two movable ones, and two open spaces. The immovable blocks are in each corner and the movable ones are in my way. And to top it all off, I get only two shots. Scoot the two away, shoot, and puzzle solved.

(CONGRATULATIONS!)

That's one done, another to go.

"Wow? You solved it? I'm impressed? You must be a total nerd?"

...Jackass.

Leaving the room has Flowey grabbing my wrist with a vine and tugging me to get moving.

"Bro, chill, what's wrong?"

"I heard them talking. They've been watching Mettaton's broadcast on their phones."

Yeah, that's our cue to skedaddle.

"Please use the vents this time."

I speed past him much to his chagrin.

"Screw...the...rules!"

I shout with each leap taken. I know deep down he wants to call me dumb and yet I'm kinda proud I'm able to forget about the incredibly high path we're treading that drops into freaking lava. He rejoins me as a non-moving cyan laser seemingly impedes my progress. However, it's waist level in height and nothing is stopping me from crawling underneath it.

"Wow."

"I know, right?"

Like on the right side, the left has the puzzle room and two monsters just hanging out on the cliff. These two monster girls are wearing what look like red and black Japanese school uniforms. The fuck? Not sure what's weirder, everyone's bravery by being that close to death or how the hell they got those clothes. Either way, one girl is purple with possible tentacle hair and has red eyes with black sclera, she is so clearly a tom-boy with her red back facing cap and skateboard. While the other girl is made up of lime green flame and gives off this way too innocent vibe for being here and with the bad-girl. Hotland does seem more and more to be Grillby's former home. How many more fire elementals live here?

"You think the laser has them stuck here?"

"Maybe. I know I wouldn't crawl on the floor with a skirt like that."

I enter the room and thankfully there's no head laying around that speaks in headache-inducing jabber. Let's see...Are the rules the same?

(Shoot the opposing ship!)

(Move the boxes to complete your mission.)

Yep. Same rules but different layout. Five immovable blocks, six movable ones, and five open spaces. The three immovable ones are in corners, one is above a corner, and the last is touching the corner of a corner block. And once more I get two shots. The movable blocks from a backward jacked letter C. This one is a bit more complex. The majority of the blocks move in one push. I have to try this a few times before I'm able to have it clear enough to shoot through one block and then the target.

(CONGRATULATIONS!)

If my calculations are correct, the door should be open now and further progress can be made. I leave the room and notice the laser is off. Flowey is also nowhere to be seen, probably due to the girls having moved from their original spot.

"Finally! Someone turned off that laser!"

Don't thank me, I'm just awesome.

"Now that we're free we can... Well, uh, I guess we'll just keep standing here."

"Hm? Nice try, but your loitering technique still needs work."

They chat with themselves. Great time to be invisible.

"Loitering around... What's the point?"

"Beats being in school. Why should we bother going to school, anyway...? What's the point in learning how to make a buncha puzzles? There's GOTTA be a way to cancel school."

"But isn't it summer vacation?"

"...Auuuugh! This world's got no future!"

A bit overly dramatic. Whatever. Back to business. I rush to make my final leap and almost trip on the pipework floor. Yeah...Not gonna be doing this jump thing anymore. Lost my nerve for it. Motion activates the door and it slides opens into the rock.

"Okay, Metta...Here I come."

Going through the door leads me to a small bit of land that turns to the right and three widely spaced vents in a row to reach the next...Is that kitchen linoleum? I can't be seeing that right.

"Seems like you have no choice this time."

Flowey appears.

"Can't at least hurl me across?"

He shakes his head.

"I can't support carrying you that far and I'm not risking you falling to death."

"Yeah, my luck as of late would be that level of crap."

I smack myself a few times to ready my timid nerves.

"Any words of wisdom before I do this?"

He thinks for a moment.

"Beware of chainsaws."

"What?!"

He sinks into the ground and I internally scream...Fuck my life!

Stepping onto the vent blocks the steam for a bit. The building pressure launches me from one vent to the next. By the time I reach solid ground I'm about ready to vomit my still-beating heart out.

"I hate heights!"

I'm gonna punch him. I swear, even if it breaks my hands, I will beat the shit out of Mettaton for this.

Still shaken I crawl my way into the next area. It's very weird. As if the linoleum wasn't odd, I'm now in what looks like a kitchen set. Oh...Oh god no...This can't mean...

"Don't tell me this is what I think it is."

As if on cue, low and behold, my metal master of moronic mayhem hovers down from the heavens wearing a chef's hat.

"OHHHH YES! WELCOME, DASTARDLIES, TO THE UNDERGROUND'S PREMIER COOKING SHOW!"

(Cooking with a Killer Robot)

"PRE-HEAT YOUR OVENS, BECAUSE WE'VE GOT A VERY SPECIAL RECIPE FOR YOU TODAY! WE'RE GOING TO BE MAKING...A CAKE! DEVIL'S FOOD CAKE TO BE EXACT."

Two of his hands stretch out and grab me, despite my pointless clawing at the floor, to present me to cameras I can't see.

"MY LOVELY ASSISTANT HERE WILL GATHER THE INGREDIENTS. EVERYONE GIVE THEM A BIG HAND!"

An applause sound effect goes off as well as confetti falls. I glare at myself.

"*mutter* You better have my stuff as promised or I will purposefully make sure your ratings bomb."

He pulls me in so only I hear him.

"*WHISPER* DO THAT AND YOU CAN KISS YOUR ITEMS GOODBYE."

I snort a huff and try to put on a smile. This seems to be what he wants.

"WE'LL NEED SUGAR, MILK, FLOUR, CHOCOLATE, AND EGGS. GO FOR IT, SWEETHEART!"

He's being overly flashy and fantastic. I should play along...but I'm too pissy and bitter. Plus calling me sweetheart irks me. You want a nice human? I'll be so sweet your blood sugar will spike!

"*giggles* Golly-gee. Thanks for having me on your show, Mr. Mettaton. Let's make the bestest best cake ever!"

This is stooping to new levels of pettiness that I might want to find a therapist for later. I'm pushing for a nearly unbelievable level of childish innocence as I scope the set and gather ingredients. All the while he watches every little skip and mean-spirited twirl I make before bring it all back to him a dopey smile.

"All done, Mr. Mettaton. This is going to be the most choco-lickity-yummiest cake in the universe!"

He puts two of his hands together and one on my head before sighing.

"DARLING...I LOVE WHAT YOU'RE DOING, I REALLY DO. BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THE AUDIENCE, COULD YOU LOWER THE CUTE DOWN A BIT?"

I give the puppy dog eyes.

"Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?"

He flinches and without thinking he slams my head into the counter. I roar and cover my face, trying not to burst into a hurricane of swears while he goes about the show.

"PERFECT! GREAT JOB, BEAUTIFUL! WE'VE GOT ALL OF THE INGREDIENTS WE NEED TO BAKE THE CAKE! MILK... SUGAR... FLOUR... CHOCOLATE... EGGS..."

He gasps suddenly while I check if my nose is broken. Good news, it's not.

"OH MY! WAIT A MAGNIFICENT MOMENT! HOW COULD I FORGET! WE'RE MISSING THE MOST IMPORTANT INGREDIENT!"

I wipe a small bit of blood off my forehead.

"And what ingredient is that? This was everything you told me to get."

Some of my attitude is coming out but not too much.

"WHY, IT'S NOTHING WE HAVE TO GO SEARCHING FOR. YOU BROUGHT IT HERE WITH YOU."

I look at him funny until I see him pulling two chainsaws out from under the counter.

"A HUMAN SOUL!"

My heart sinks as he revs them up. Yet when he begins to do a slow methodical approach...My brain remembers to do one of my many pointless talents. Poking holes things with needless but true knowledge.

"Objection!"

The nerd in me is giddy for being able to make him pause with that.

"YES?"

I slap the counter.

"This recipe is bogus. What kind of cake calls for an ingredient that is so rare and priceless as a human soul? I submit my dumb argument, because I'm willing to admit the idiocy of saying this, that a human soul would serve a far greater purpose than being used for baked goods. Such as breaking the barrier. What say you, Metta? Do you have anything to back up your reasoning to use my soul in this cake?"

I wonder if Napsablook has an emulator on his PC? I want to play Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney now.

His screen blinks a little in thought. Before one of his arms leaves the murder weapon to go somewhere off set and return to put a can on the counter.

"...What is that?"

"THAT, MY DEAR, IS MTT-BRAND ALWAYS-CONVENIENT HUMAN-SOUL-FLAVOR-SUBSTITUTE! AVAILABLE AT ANY OF MY FINE RETAIL MARKETS! PROOF THAT THIS IS SOMETHING RATHER COMMON DOWN HERE AND THEREFORE, NOT A COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE IDEA AS TO WHY USE OF YOUR SOUL WOULD BE IN COOKING."

I stare dumbfounded at this can.

"This...This thing holds stuff that tastes like a human soul?"

He turns one chainsaw off and leans on it like a villain does with a cane.

"IT IS WHAT IT IS, DARLING. THE LABEL DOESN'T LIE. I SELL ONLY THE BEST. AND I GUARANTEE, IF YOU TRY IT, YOU'D NEVER KNOW THE DIFFERENCE."

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I put my hands together, hold them to my face, and ponder the meaning of life."

"Metta, my dude...This is some messed up stuff right here."

"HOW SO?"

I sigh through my nose and lose my ability to be subtle.

"You do know that souls can be used as sexual organs, right?"

He slips from his cool pose in shock.

"DARLING! CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY! THIS IS LIVE AND KIDS MIGHT BE WATCHING."

"Do not change the subject by insinuating children don't have the ability to understand. Kids are always learning and they find things out quicker than others give credit. Such as their body's and, because it's a monster's core, soul. You can not expect me to believe that knowledge of that caliber is unknown."

I grab the can harshly.

"Knowing that, the fact this can exists and as you claim is indistinguishable from the real deal, it insinuates that you or someone else on your staff knows what a human soul tastes like. Meaning...Someone has had oral sex with a human soul."

He falls over at my accusations. Chainsaws long forgotten. But I'm not done.

"Further more, this can opens a can of worms in its implications. Forgive my armature knowledge on the subject, but in the old myths above, there is no mention of monsters feeding on human souls. Such things usually are connected to demons. So this concept is either new to the Underground or you're making it up purely for this show!"

My head is swimming with weird thoughts and I'm unable to keep them to myself.

"Fearing that the humans would one day turn on monster kind and slaughter their people, absorb their few boss souls and become dominant over them, the monsters decided to launch a preemptive strike. That's what the old text said, but...If this feeding on souls it true..."

I glare at the can, not liking the thoughts it's making me get.

"Then humans had a reason to seal you away."

Those words are bitter and I spit them getting angry, squeezing the can with force.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

It crunches, metal splitting to cut into my hand before furiously throwing it at the fake window behind us.

"Tell me I'm wrong! Don't make me feel bad for humanity!"

I'm physically shaking. My rage tapering on the verge. It's not even towards anyone. How can it? What's in the past is there forever. But this...Don't tell me this is real and in the present.

"Please..."

I lick my hand, trying to focus on the sting and hint of copper to calm me down. Finally able to recover, Mettaton dusts himself off. Taking note of my behavior and picking his words carefully.

"WOW, DARLING. SUCH RAW EMOTION. THE PASSION. FEAR. ANGER. AND DESPERATION. IT'S PERFECT IN EVERY WAY!"

A low snarl from me reminds him that I'm in no mood for his fabulous side.

"BUT TO ANSWER YOUR RATHER INTERESTING QUERY...NO. IT'S NOT TRUE."

A small sensation of relief begins to hit me as he opens a compartment under his screen and pulls out a small advertisement poster.

"I FIGURED THIS IDEA WOULD WORK MAINLY BECAUSE..."

He lightly touches my face.

"YOU'RE SWEETER THAN ANY DESERT~."

With the whole 'about to kill me' and fucked up line of thought thing that happened seconds ago, his little flirt has no effect and I slap his hand away. He's taken by this yet keeps his composer.

"BUT I SEE NOW THAT WAS FOOLISH. USING YOU IN A SIMPLE COOKING SHOW WAS A MASSIVE UNDERESTIMATION. ESPECIALLY TO PROMOTE MY NEWEST PRODUCT."

He crumbs the add and tosses it away.

"BUT AFTER THAT SCENE, I CAN KISS THOSE SALES GOODBYE. IT WAS WORTH A SHOT THOUGH. YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT WORKS WITHOUT TAKING RISKS."

I am so done with all of this it ain't even funny.

"YET THIS WASN'T A TOTAL LOST. I LEARNED YOU HAVE A REAL TALENT."

I eye him cautiously, getting the bleeding to at last stop.

"CLEARLY A COURTROOM DRAMA IS PERFECT FOR YOU!"

I hate my luck.

"I NEED TO MAKE SOME CALLS! GET A SET MADE! OOOOOH! THE SCANDALOUS SCRIPT IDEAS I HAVE!"

"I think you're jumping the gun a bit early on this."

He puts a finger to my lips.

"NOT NOW, DARLING, I'M WORKING."

I gesture to where I assume a camera is that he's nuts.

[RING-RING]

His phone goes off.

"THIS BETTER BE IMPORTANT! I'M ON AIR RIGHT NOW!"

Damn it. I can't hear the caller.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE WON'T MOVE?! YOU TELL HER..."

He's cut off.

"W-WHAT?! HOW MANY OF YOU ARE THERE LEFT? ...JUST YOU?! DAMN IT, BUGERPANTS, SO HELP ME IF THIS IS A PLOY TO GET OUT OF YOUR SHIFT..."

While he's distracted, I use this time to move the chainsaws away and out of sight. No need for them to come back into play.

"WAIT...SAY THAT LAST PART AGAIN. ARE YOU CERTAIN IT'S HIS POST?"

Post? What post? Who's post?

"*HUFF* FINE. RETURN TO YOUR POST. I'LL DEAL WITH THIS MYSELF."

He hangs up and is not too happy.

"*MUMBLE* DAMN SPIDER AND HER STUPID PET, KILLS MY MINIONS AND STILL DENIES MY BUSINESS DEALS!"

"You okay?"

My voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he calms down.

"UM...A CHANGE IN PLANS HAS COME UP. YES! DUE TO SOME SET ISSUES AND TIME CONSTRAINTS, OUR SHOW RUNS ON A STRICT SCHEDULE YOU KNOW, I'M GOING TO PERSONALLY DROP YOU OFF AT THE NEXT LEG OF THE GAUNTLET."

Well, that sounds like a load of bullshit. But my dumb brain has to dumb brain.

"So what you're telling me is we're not even going to finish this segment by making the damn cake?"

He pulls me into an uncomfortable side embrace.

"I KNOW, IT'S HEARTBREAKING. BUT YOU SHOULD'VE MOVED FASTER AT THE START OF ALL THIS."

"I have a fear of heights!"

"NOW WE'LL JUST HAVE TO LIVE WITH NOT KNOWING HOW GOOD THE CAKE COULD'VE BEEN."

"Don't ignore me."

"OR HOW MUCH MORE DELICIOUS IT COULD BE IF EATEN OFF MY BODY."

"The fuck did you say?!"

"BUT COME ON, DARLING, I'M ONLY MESSING WITH YOU AND OUR MALICIOUS VIEWERS. HAVEN'T YOU EVER SEEN A COOKING SHOW BEFORE? I ALREADY BAKED THE CAKE AHEAD OF TIME! SO FORGET IT! BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT GETTING ANY OF IT!"

"Is the screaming in my ear necessary?"

"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! RIGHT ABOUT NOW IS WHEN WE HAVE OUR COMMERCIAL BREAK! SO STAY TUNED TO THAT SCREEN AND CONTINUE WATCHING AS OUR DEAR DARLING DARES TO DART FORTH INTO DANGER ONCE MORE!"

"Can you at least tell me I don't have to do any more vent platforming?"

"SORRY, BUT I'D BE LYING IF I DID."

I start trying to swear but I end up roaring out in meek frustration.

"SEE YOU ALL AGAIN REAL SOON."

A few seconds go by and he lets me go.

"OKAY, WE DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME..."

He moves to the sink and opens the cabinets under it.

"WE HAD A DEAL. DESPITE THAT LITTLE SHOW YOU PUT ON, I AM IF ANYTHING A MONSTER OF MY WORD."

He tosses me a bag with his face on it. Taking the hint, I open it and find my missing gear. Though...no phone. I take this small victory without a fight. I'm fairly certain I know who has it anyway. That cat is so getting skinned. I equip my items and CHECK my stats.

[ HP: 40 ATK: 45 DEF: 27]

"Someday, I swear my defense will be decent, damn it!"

"ALL SET?"

I may look ridiculous with all this all but it's not like I was a supermodel before.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thank you."

"UM..."

"What?"

"I WANT TO APOLOGIZE."

I scoff.

"Forget it."

"NO. I...WHAT I DID WAS STUPID. I SKIMMED OVER THINGS AND WASN'T EXPECTING HOW YOU'D REACT. A GOOD SHOWMAN IS MORE PREPARED AND KNOWS HIS CAST BETTER. FOR THAT...I'M SORRY"

No matter the mood I might be in, I know how hard it is to swallow one's pride and admit a wrong. I just wish he wasn't such a flip-flopper because this personality switching is making it difficult to trust him fully.

"*sigh* ...I forgive you. But don't ever pull that kind of crap again. Got it? I like you monsters. I like being here. I don't want to feel bad for my kind and see THIS punishment as justified."

He nods, or what I take as the equivalent to one for a guy without a neck. With that now all said and done he once again snatches me into his arms and he blasts off like a rocket. Where to? No damn clue.

[HOTLAND: LAB]

"Well, that was disappointing. Freaky, but disappointing."

Undyne collects another bowel to enjoy.

"Not his best move. That's for sure. All that controversial fuss."

Alphys had cut the feed but was still viewing the robot and human.

"Yeah. He didn't even use those chainsaws. Such a wasted opportunity."

"Still, the way she interpreted all that from a simple can of spice...And that reaction..."

Theories were coming to Alphys.

"Definitely something to remember for future use."

Undyne takes a long slurp of ramen.

"It's a freak, Alphys. Plain and simple."

Alphys's companion's lack of imagination made her sneer.

"At least he's prolonging her activity. That provides data. And that's all that matters."

Undyne rolls her eye.

"Still...I wonder what that phone call was about?"

Alphys, being the one that sees all, knows the answer to that question. She just finds it more interesting to see if her hot fish friend can figure it out for herself. Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

[Snowdin: Skeleton House in present time]

They weren't sure what they just watched. Such a strange buildup and quickly smothered show. Sure this wasn't over but no one honestly thought that second showing was going to be over in about twelve minutes. Still...The lingering questions remained when the commercials played.

"This is nerve-wracking."

"I know. But at least there's some good news. He's moving her further. She'll be done faster."

"I suppose that is true."

"OR SHE'LL BE KILLED QUICKER."

Toriel and Grillby glare at Papyrus.

"WHAT? I'M BEING REALISTIC BY SAYING THE OPTION YOU'RE IGNORING."

The glares and fire strengthen.

Papyrus takes the hint and walks away. Maybe Sans had some sort of idea and won't want to beat the shit out of him as the others do.

"you need to work on your people skills, bro."

He growls but that's it.

"i got an idea as to what happened near the end."

"REALLY?"

"yeah. i think someone tipped him off about my post there."

"YOU SURE?"

"got no other clue as to why he'd move her himself and not let her walk."

"HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK HE'LL HAVE HER SKIP?"

"who's to say? i only know what i can see from my post. and it ain't much."

"WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MANY POSTS?"

"do ya know anybody else that can teleport?"

"...GOOD POINT."

"you sound underwhelmed."

"I DON'T KNOW...I JUST DON'T SEE IT. YOU WORKING THAT MUCH? IT'S WEIRD."

"if it makes it less weird, i sell hot dogs at those stations."

"THAT...THAT MAKES MORE SENSE."

The television flickers suddenly. The commercials end and the human is back onscreen. Her exact location is odd in that there doesn't seem to be a path to leave on. There's a signpost they can't read and random cacti. Among the positives, she is sporting her equipables again and thus have her stats boosted. On the negative side...she isn't there alone for very long.

[vg---sideblog]

Quickly Cobbled-Together Chess AU

Because I suddenly unrepressed memories of playing chess when I was like five and what is chess but the original class-based multiplayer combat game? Kinda like tf2, but not on a computer. And for people with functional brains. Anyways, enjoy

Medic is the King, and not just metaphorically. The king is the most important piece in chess, and you lose if he gets captured. Parallely, if your medic dies, you're not winning anytime soon. This one was kind of a no-brainer for me, and so was the next subsequently

Heavy is the Queen, a stronk independent man who don't need no medic, but protects him anyways. This one was also a given in my eyes, the queen's job is to protect her king at all costs, and the heavy is a meatshield no offense to you heavy mains out there who soaks up damage like no one's business, and puts out enough damage to reflect the queen's aggressive movement. The only thing that doesn't quite match up is heavy's slow speed and a queen's range of motion, but it's whatever

Scout is the Bishop, not a pawn, shockhorror, I know. But hear me out. Scouts are fast, aggressive, an offensive class. Bishops can move unlimited empty spaces diagonally,forward or back. Scouts are tricky little speedy boys, usually jumping and strafing around maps. This felt like a good fit, vast movement that allows for flanking on both characters'/pieces' ends

Pyro is the Rook. It was tough for me to fit him in there somewhere, but rook seems to suit him. Rooks can move unlimited empty spaces vertically and horizontally, and pyros can be very mobile if they want to be, with average speed for sure, but plenty of speed/mobility-modifying weapons in his arsenal. He is also a flanking, offensive class like scout, so the movement options do fit. Pyro also was the optimal Rook because of the special ability he has: castling, in which the king moves two spaces in one direction and the rook jumps over him to stand on his other side, protecting the king from whatever lurks over there. This feels roughly equivalent to pyro's airblast ability to extinguish his medic and functionally negate explosion damage, as well as his health pool allowing him to be a slightly less effective meatshield sorry pyro mains than heavy, another way to protect his medic if need be. As I type it out, it fits more in my head

Oh My God Its Demoknight Tf2 From The Video Game Team Fortress 2

Jokes aside lol, Demo is a Knight. Okay, I'll admit lots of it is because demoknight exists, but it also fits in other ways. For example, knights are the only piece aside from the rook allowed to jump other pieces. And, well, stickyjumping also exists. Yeah, this and the next one were kinda lazy, but it fits so well! What was I to do?!

Soldier is a Knight. Alongside demo, soldier is the other big explosive-jumping class, so knight just works. But also, soldier is a warrior by his personality, not just his gameplay. I think he'd be upset if he wasn't the valiant knight

The remaining classes are all Pawns mainly because they didnt really fit anywhere else soz. But, I think it works out okay

Spy is a Pawn, as I'm sure hes well aware. Pawns are the first to strike most always in a game of chess, just like our resident fremch fry! Pawns also have a special ability where, if a pawn has reached the opponent's end of the board, the piece may be promoted to bishop, rook, knight, or queen, quite similar to disguising as another class except the pawn actually can use the other piece type's abilities

Sniper is a Pawn, similarly. Snipers tend to stay at the rear of a battle and, well, snipe people, but there really isnt any back-line tactics (that I'm familiar with) in chess. However, the pawn has another ability alongside being able to be promoted. If an enemy pawn moves two spaces (only an option on the pawn's first move) instead of one, and if having only moved once would have resulted in you capturing the pawn, you can capture it anyways, landing in the square between where the enemy started and ended their move. It doesn't quite equate to sniping, but it suits the pick-class style, I feel.

Finally, Engie is a Pawn. Last bit certainly not least, our favorite cowboy! Pawns don't typically have very good movement options excluding extenuating circumstances, and engie does have teleporters and sentryjumping, but alas, chess doesn't have the wrangler added yet. The lawn's promotion one again makes me make him a pawn, it just fits him, I honestly don't know what else to do with him

Of course, this is just me trying to match the classes to a piece. It's very late and my brain is being slowly converted to mush, but I hope you enjoy my ramblings!

[tslasvegas]

Episode 7: ”It’s his loss, not mine.” - Xavier

Ben is the obvious next vote but....

Rachael leaving was... not ideal. I have now played too games with her but we haven't gotten the chance to meet up. In Trinity All-Stars, I got first boot, and here she premerged. Rachael was definitely someone in this community I have wanted to work with for awhile so it sucks to not get that chance. This boot puts a lot of things into perspective that I need to take into account. I have a Final 2 with Keegan. I have a 3 with Keegan and Jake. I feel really about both of those connections. In most scenarios, it seems like my OG Tribe will be going into merge, when that happens, with a numerical advantage. I have seen this movie before! Last time it happened, I was on the bottom. Do I think I will be here? Not really. But I do not want this season to be dominated by one tribe. I have begun talking to Jeff, planting seeds about how I would be willing to work outside of our tribe without just saying it this early into the round. I want to be subtle because I do, SHOCKER, want to actually make merge. While I do not want one tribe to run the game, it is obvious that I have spent most of the game with most of these people on my swap tribe. So do not expect me to just start nuking them left and right because I do feel confident in my connections here. The person within this tribe I would like to first see go that was on my OG tribe is Andrew. At the start of our first tribal, he threw out Jake's name and Jake told us that he mentioned Keegan and I being perceived as a pair. Andrew also seems to have a big mouth; he mentioned on the after tribal call about people who weren't on our OG tribe WITH JAKE ON CALL. I think Andrew seems like a cool guy but I could see him being a liability to my game moving forward and I do believe that if I were to push for him to go, I could rally the numbers if we go to tribal this round. Now that doesn't mean I am throwing. If anything, he can be merge boot. The thing is that I have a very lowkey personality and have never been the type to push for votes. I will try and get out of my comfort zone and do this when the time is right but if I pull it off, it will be a completely different style of play for me. Also, an update on chips: Rachael willed 2 chips to me. Keegan and I have been pooling chips and are very close to the Super Idol. If we do not get it in time we plan on stocking up on as much of the other items as we can. With how many items there are, I do not know if I expect there to be any sort of restock at Merge so it is best to get things while they are there and worry about a restock later if it happens. As I said, I doubt it will and if it does I doubt it will be too crazy of a restock

Rachael got voted out and now I hate all of Palazzo. Just kidding but that is very sad. This endurance challenge is... not great. We’ve got five people putting in an effort so far. Livingston has been MIA which isn’t great. Kevin... I don’t think has even really been around this week at all? If we lose I think it’s a no-brainer that Kevin needs to go. Nice guy, but I feel like he hasn’t put any effort into this game at all and it’s not fair that people are voted out over him simply because Andrew likes him. If Andrew puts up too much of a fuss, we may just have to take him out instead. I’m not losing Jake yet.

Yesterday's tribal council was kind of a lot, I thought the votes were going in Ben's direction because I put my trust wholly into John. I was hearing from Stephanie and Joey that the vote was certainly on Rachael, but because of John's one single message "I'm hearing it's Ben", I took that and ran with it. Tbh I really wanted one of Stephanie or Rachael to go - more so Rachael than Stephanie, but I didn't think the votes were there to get Rachael at all! It made no sense. Basically, Joey came to me like 20 minutes before tribal and finally said, "the vote is Rachael". Then he says Stephanie's got a double vote and it's been the plan all day. I'm like okay... So I reach out to Stephanie, she doesn't respond for like ten minutes and then confirms what Joey is saying EXCEPT the part about the double vote. Joey told me specifically not to talk to anybody about the vote. Which is so fucking weird, right? Then DURING TRIBAL John says I'm hearing it's Ben. I run to the chat Ben made and tell him everything and tell him to try and flip a vote onto Rachael because as it stands, I thought the vote was going to end up 4-4 in his way. So... then Ben plays an IDOL????? LIKE. WHAT. Turns out it was Rachael's idol. I feel like this was good for us because now Ben is definitely on the bottom of the tribe and will be such an easy vote for everybody else. People need to see that Ben is super untrustworthy (and more than my flip-flopping ass!) so they can just take him out as soon as possible. Today the goal is to just do the best I can in this challenge. Even if it costs me in the end, I want to prove at least a shred of worth to these people because I've pretty much crossed everybody at one point or another. Definitely not the best start to the season, but reflecting on my past, this isn't the worst situation I've ever been in. I just felt stuck between two worlds - the OG Bellagio circle jerk and the new tribe swap with real opportunities to change my fate. I have constantly tried to appease both sides to no avail.. I think I'm in a spot where no matter where I decide, I'm screwed. I've tried to get Kailyn and Ben to see my logic on a lot of the decisions I've made, but it's really no use because they're super set in their ways. As it stands... I don't want to be burned by John again, so my trust in him is kind of gone. I think he knows that because I kind of dug into him a bit after the vote. I think he's playing a really good game because everybody basically loves him, but I also need to cling onto him for a chance at actually gaining new allies by association once we inevitably merge. I hope it's just sooner rather than later, I don't know if I can hang on to this rollercoaster tribe much longer. Once Ben and Kailyn go, do I become the next target? Who knows. I don't really know what my trajectory is right now but I don't think it's very good. I'm going to stop worrying about the bigger picture maybe for just one or two rounds and try to play more in the moment. Thinking long-term hasn't done much good for me here. I don't regret any of my decisions though, except maybe voting for Stephanie last night. Glad Denara, Nik, Mo, and now Rachael are gone, but that still leaves A LOT of loose ends in the game - Kailyn and Ben are going to come back to screw me if I don't take them out as soon as possible. I hope Mo didn't tell his tribe to fuck me over on their first opportunity, too, because once the game shifts again I'm going to need all the allies I can get if I even want a chance in hell at winning this thing.

KEVIN WALKS

[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 8 - This Time Around

a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 23/?

Human nature. With all its complexities and flaws, was now the one thing that presided over a land filled with the dead. True human nature, in its most naked, exposed and unapologetic form was now both the best and worst of the world. Jess had seen the best and worst of it from her spot in the city and had managed to live, unnoticed by any survivors passing through. She’d witnessed grown men put themselves in harms way, sacrificing themselves to save children too slow and small to keep up the running pace of the adults in their group as she’d watched from her perch on the corner of the roof. In contrast, she’d stared in horror as another group simply tossed a woman out of a truck like last night’s burger wrapper, onto the street in order to slow down a small herd. She’d been bitten before Jess could grab her bow and race down the stairs. In an act of mercy that allowed her to prove to herself that she was still on the good side of human nature, she’d shot the woman in the head from the roof with a well-placed arrow and spent all night replaying the look of pure terror etched onto the stranger’s face.

Yes, human nature was complicated and destructive, inspiring and devastating. A double-edged sword. Jess was better off on her own, that much was true, but she did miss the conversation, the debate, the ideas swapping over hot chocolates and the late-night hilarity that came from a few glasses of beer and games of pool in a bar. Those days were gone and now all she had in the way of company was a reanimated dead body at the bottom of the elevator shaft and a huge stuffed bear wearing an army jacket that now took up it’s place opposite her on the roof, a stale birthday cake waited to be devoured between them on an upturned, wooden box.

“Well, Sgt Pepper. Looks like it’s just you and I celebrating another trip around the sun.” she commented as she held her glass aloft.

Merle had finished off all the whiskey and she knew better than to go scrounging for more. It wasn’t a necessity and she wasn’t about to get herself killed for a bout of nausea and a fuzzy head the next day.

The bear was tatty, threads pulled from his ears and his jacket splattered with dried blood. Jess found him in the next apartment block where he’d been positioned proudly on the pillow of a perfectly made bed in a room decorated for that of a young adult. On the floor were three bodies, two adults and a girl around 13 years old. Jess carefully nudged each one with her foot as she passed. The bullet holes in their heads told her that they hadn’t turned and like many of the people that chose to remain in the city, they thought suicide to be a better prospect than the exhausting slog to survive day by day. It hurt Jess’s heart to think that some souls felt there was no other way, but it wasn’t an option she could say she hadn’t considered at least once while she resided in her fortress of loneliness.

It was a no brainer to her. She had to leave with that bear. He reminded her so much of her own childhood companion, jacket and all. Her father had gifted it to her and during every tour and every training exercise, she found comfort in the military bear that she had dubbed ‘Sgt Pepper’. Aware that if any other survivors were passing through and saw her, she would look positively ridiculous, scurrying across the rooftops with a huge stuffed animal under her arm. But just as before the turn, she wasn’t going to change who she was to suit anyone else. Especially not in the apocalypse.

“You say it's your birthday” She sang at the bears pinned and permanent smile. She sipped the soda in the glass and slapped her other hand on her thigh to create a beat. “It's my birthday too, yeah”. She paused, looking up at Sgt Pepper as if his plastic eyes would change their expression and for a fleeting second, she was disappointed when they remained exactly the same. She raised the glass to him for a second time. “They say it's your birthday, we’re gonna have a good time” She thudded the glass on the box and began to pluck at imaginary guitar strings, closing her eyes and leaning to one side. “I'm glad it's your birthday, Happy birthday to you!” The Beatles were her favourite band ever since she was a child and that was not something that was going to change just because they and their audience weren't around anymore. Jess was still there and as long as she was, so was her love of their music. She'd found headphones while scavenging, even and old portable CD player, but her rule of keeping a clear head and always being aware of her surroundings meant that the headphones went untouched and she was reduced to singing to herself to stave off the boredom and silence. It wasn't a problem to her, she knew all of the lyrics anyway and there was no one but Ben and Sgt Pepper to complain about it.

Her eyes lowered to the dried birthday cake. Three, colored, marzipan Balloons floated across the top and the rim was adorned with cracked and discolored frosting. The chances of a strong bout of stomach cramps after consuming it were high, but it was her birthday and she was going to have a damn cake if she wanted to. A single candle flame flickered in the center of the off-white frosting and as she blew it out, she wished that she would survive long enough to see mother nature take back the earth. To reclaim what was hers and what was destroyed by the arrogance of human nature. She wanted to see vines and branches seep into the cracks of buildings, pulling them apart and turning them into a ghostly mirage of what once was. But through it all, she wanted to be around, content and safe and able to live into her old age while still being the survivor she had realized she really was.

She also wished for something else; that one day, Daryl would know how much he inspired her. If nothing else, she wanted that for him. Without his guidance, his training and his words, she was certain she would be dead. He may have broken her heart, but at one point, somewhere in between all the angst and anger, he believed in her. She regretted not writing it in the note she left pinned to the tree but time was of the essence and she had to think quickly. Now, when she thought back to the good times spent tracking and hunting in the woods, putting Walkers down and making fun of one another, it made her smile. A smile that was not through genuine happiness. Far from it. It was a smile of sadness for times that she desperately missed. But they were times of blissful ignorance of how he really felt, times based on a lie. She pressed her eyes shut and quickly shook the thoughts from her head. She watched the thin, sliver of smoke drift up from the wick. Picking up a plastic fork, she stabbed the cake and shoveled a large piece of the sponge into her mouth. Wincing at the dryness, she chewed and swallowed hard. It was like eating sand.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.” She sighed.

She had resorted to guessing the time of day by using a sundial or her hands against the horizon from the roof. Her knowledge of such historical practices had proved to be invaluable and she now appreciated her interests much more than she ever did before the turn. The night was creeping in, dulling the view from the roof and creating a cold sting in the air. There was just enough time for some target practice.

The streets below the apartment were far from clear. Walkers milled in and our of side streets and alleys, some amassed in the middle of the road and if it wasn’t for Jess’s diversion tactics from time to time, she was sure the street she lived on would be clogged with festering corpses by now. Fireworks were usually the best, she’d found. They seemed to like fireworks. The dreamer in her liked to think that maybe the noise and the colors stirred something deep inside their mainly inoperative brains, some kind of distant memory of 4th July firework shows or new year celebrations. But the realist side of her knew differently. Now, they were even lower than most animals, driven to move by sounds but completely devoid of thought or any type of feeling. Just shells.

She picked up her bow and slid on her bracers as she approached the small wall that lined the edge of the roof. The faint murmur of the odd, swaying Walker was the only sound that rose from the scene below. Taking a peek over the edge, she nodded in approval at the numbers.

“That’ll do.” She said to herself before picking up a small, children’s chalkboard that rested against the inside of the wall. Her eyes flickered over the names on the list, selecting the first one and shuffling forwards to get into position.

“OK, Madonna. Are you out tonight?”

With one foot placed in front of the other, her body turned and her stance strong, she raised the bow and nocked an arrow. She smiled when she noticed her. A blonde woman with wavy, hair wearing what appeared to be a thin, satin nightgown. She wasn’t as designer clad as the real thing, but she would suffice as a target. She drew the bow string back and exhaled slowly as she took aim. The Arrow embedded in the side of the Walkers head as if it was nothing but a bag of sand and she hit the floor, causing the others around her to start shuffling towards her.

“Oof!” She exclaimed with a fist pumped in the air. “That one was a ten pointer. Sorry, Madonna.” She marked her score on the chalkboard next to the name and checked her next target.

Sarah.

It was now a habit, each time she re-filled the board with names, Sarah and Jodie’s would always be mixed in somewhere. Jess was never one to remain bitter or hold grudges, too many so-called friends had come and gone over the years to make sure she’d got used to it. But she was also never one to not make an exception for some things. When she was feeling low and having a bad day, the list of names on the board changed and she wondered at one point if she should indulge in an ‘abhorrent people target practice day’ once a week, where Sarah and Jodie’s names could mingle with the likes of Hitler, Robert Mugabe and Vlad the Impaler. But it was yet to happen because she wasn’t bitter. Not at all. Or, so she told herself as she chose a doppelganger of Sarah and took aim.  

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 

Ben was hanging on the bars of the elevator gate when she descended the stairs, his arms were loosely draped through the gaps and his face was pushed against the cold metal. She lifted a hand in acknowledgement before sitting down on the bottom step in front of him and seeing him try to reach out to her. She held her hand out, gently tickling his grasping, blackened fingertips in what could have been seen as a gesture of affection.

“Hey dude. So, my birthday cake tasted like feet but it was one hell of a pity party you missed.”

The sound of her voice was like fuel for Ben. He instantly began to clamber up from his spot, hanging through the gate and started to snarl at her, his mouth hanging open and his teeth bared.

“Not that I know what feet taste like.” She added, her eyes locking on his now cloudy, pale and blinded orbs. “I guess you might though. Depending on how long you’ve been locked in there.”

Stepping back, Ben’s arms dropped from the grate and he stumbled backwards, his body hitting the back of the elevator and causing it to shake. A slight jingle caught her attention and she froze, straining her ears. As he moved back towards her, his pocket gave off a tinkling sound and Jess quickly put the pieces of the puzzle together. Many a week had passed when she’d been sitting on that same step engrossed in a one-way conversation with the dead man trapped inside his cell. Sometimes she even contemplated if he really would try to hurt her if she managed to somehow release him from the confined space he occupied. But then she reminded herself of her own naivety and how that kind of thinking could get her killed. Ben was a Walker. A mindless, stinking, lump of useless flesh but still a predator in his own right.  

“You have the goddamn keys to the elevator in your pocket, don’t you?” She asked him.

He stilled and her eyebrows raised. She knew better than to think he could understand her, but it was strange nonetheless. The keys would change everything. She could get him out of there and actually make use of him. She sprang up from her spot.

“I have an idea. Wait here.” She told him. After striding up two steps she rolled her eyes and sighed at her own stupidity.

Like he’s going to go anywhere.

When she returned, she placed her supplies in front of her; a cylindrical block of wood with a dish cloth tightly wound around it, attached at either end to a string of thick, rubber bands, a hockey mask and a length of rope tied into a slipknot. Another one of her skills acquired from the thousands of books she had now amassed in her apartment. She paced back and forth for a few moments, observing how Ben followed her every move from behind the barrier like a magnet. Although she was almost certain he was blind, he was completely obsessed with her and she huffed with amusement when she figured that he was only guy that had ever been obsessed with her…and he was dead.

She picked up the block of wood and tilted her head to the side, it would fit through the gaps perfectly but her task was not going to be easy. Her left arm was covered with three, thick layers of tape, strapped over a Kevlar sleeve and glove in case Ben fancied a snack halfway through his rescue mission. She was now glad of her forethought. She threaded her arm through the grid, silently and without rattling the metal. Ben, who could detect no sound whatsoever, merely peered around through his useless eyes as she used her armor covered hand to quickly grasp the back of his head. He jolted and began to gnash at her, the sounds bubbling up from his throat as his lips parted provoking a rush of bile from her own stomach. She couldn’t have prepared for the smell or the sound of liquidated, rotting human organs no matter how much she knew about Walkers. She snapped his head back as he grabbed a hold of her police issue vest and dragged her forwards, slamming her body against the gate. With her other hand, she managed to wedge the piece of wood so far between his jaws that they became locked in position. She quickly stretched the string of bands over his head, creating a most macabre and brutal gag but an effective one regardless.

He thrashed and growled, throwing himself at the gate over and over until Jess was able to shove a hand into his pocket and pulled out the biggest bunch of keys she had ever seen. Her heart dropped as she stepped back and sat down, the racket of Ben desperately trying to get to her now drowned out by just how many keys she had to contend with.

“Guys got the keys to every lock in the city on here.” She mumbled.

She began sorting through them, checking the branding on the lock and looking for a match. She must have gone through at least twenty keys before she stopped and pinched one particular one between her fingers. She looked up at the lock again.

“Nova” She whispered.

The key boasted the exact same branding. She stood up, moved closer to the lock and slid the key into the chamber. Holding onto the gate as tightly as she could, she gently and quietly turned the key, a subtle click made her smile. She’d found it. The whole time he’d been locked inside, Ben possessed the key to his freedom all along. At first, she didn’t know if someone else had thrown him in there but now it was evident; he’d been bitten and locked himself in.

“That was noble of you. But this is my apartment complex now and you’re going to earn your keep.” She quipped, swiping up the hockey mask and rope from the floor. She shoved the mask under her arm and released the lock, slowly sliding the gate back. The rattling noise sent Ben into a frenzy and he collided with the gap she’d created in the gate with such force that she doubted her ability to follow through with her plan for a moment. She took a deep breath, reached into the gap and snapped the mask over his gagged face. Next, she threw the rope around his neck and pulled it tight before throwing the gate open.

He threw himself at her, knocking the mask against the side of her face while she tried to tighten her grip on the rope enough to keep his head away from hers.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m pleased to see you too buddy.” She remarked.

Ben couldn’t have been more than 30 years old when he was alive and Jess gathered that even thought he was now deceased and extremely dangerous, he was once a good-looking guy. She felt a pang of sympathy for such a wasted life. But what else was left to hang around for? The experience of wresting the undead from elevators and up the stairs to a roof wasn’t one she’d wish on anyone else. By the time she’d maneuvered him to the top of the steps and shoved open the heavy, metal door to the roof, he’d quieted considerably. Jess knew Walkers didn’t get tired; they no longer possessed the brain capacity to register fatigue. Nor were they able to come to the conclusion that something wasn’t worth the trouble. She didn’t know why he became more compliant, but she certainly wasn’t about to complain.

Tying him to a pipe inside a ramshackle, wooden shed. She stood back and looked him over, pleased with her efforts and feeling triumphant at the result. She now had a moving target, a sparring partner and little did Ben know; he was about to become her Sensei.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

She’d lost track of time. It had been months, she knew that to be a fact, but just how many had escaped her. Her need to journal would have helped keep tabs on just how long she’d been housed in the apartment block in the city, but she had Sgt Pepper and Ben and she chattered away to them without a care in the world, dispelling her darkest fears and her inner most private thoughts. There wasn’t a need to write everything down anymore, not in a world where no one and everyone was listening all at once. If she tried to guess, she looked at her crops which filled the balcony and most of the rooftop, they were huge, prospering in the summertime and struggling during the winter. But they still existed she thought it had maybe been close to a year that she’d lived alone.

People below had come and gone. Rarely was it that anyone would try her apartment. If they did, they found it to be locked up tighter than a secret military camp and soon moved on when they realized the noise and time it would take to enter such a building while surrounded by Walkers just wasn’t worth it. In so many months she had uttered hardly a word to anyone but Merle, who’s absence was felt much greater than she ever would have expected or would care to admit.

Training with Ben was one of life’s perks, she enjoyed experiencing the change in not only her body, but her mind as she jabbed and kicked her way into a full, self-defense skill set using a dead guy as her fake attacker. She goaded him, riled him up until he would lunge at her and swipe with his arms and kick out with his legs. His hands constantly grabbed for her, the need to taste human flesh far too great for him to ignore. But Ben could only go as far as his leash allowed and his hockey mask was eventually replaced each evening before he was led back to his shack.

Gunfire interrupted one sparring session during a hot, summers evening and Jess’s head snapped around while the rest of her body completely froze. Ben also stilled and started to jolt and snarl at the source of the bangs. It was close, much too close for comfort. She wiped the sweat from her brow and eyes and crept to the edge of the roof, her heart almost stopped at the view below.

Is that a…a TANK?!

Driving towards her corner apartment block with a speed that couldn’t be easily stopped, was an M1 Abrams Tank. Jess had seen them many times before, a sight that Army brats tended to get used to. It was flanked by a dozen, heavily armed men with their weapons pointed at the door to her block. Her chest constricted when she heard them start to jeer and her eyes clocked another vehicle turn a corner at the top of the street. A large, black truck that was equipped with an animal cage on the flatbed. Inside the cage, was a screaming woman. She scanned each face as quickly as she could. Blackened teeth. Then, she observed their hands and movements. Tremors. Poor coordination. She’d read about the depths some humans would reach on the moral scale in a post-apocalyptic situation. Fear raged through her body and she stumbled back when the tank collided with the door on the ground floor.

I have to get out of here.

The building shook and she whirled around, her mind racing and her heart hammering. Adrenaline began to surge through her veins, urging her to remove herself from the threat. She grabbed Ben’s rope and sprinted to the roof door. Dragging him down the steps, sweat trickled into her eyes and she cursed the timing of the attack above all things.

Could have waited until training was over. Jesus.

Crashing through the door to her apartment, she fastened Ben’s rope to the radiator and he thrashed and clawed at her as she dashed around the living space, filling her bag with handguns and supplies. She quickly slipped on anything Kevlar or armored she could find and collected what seemed like millions of arrows from almost every room. Now, there was shouting ringing out from the floors below.

“Place is cleared. Someone lives here, keep searching!” ordered a man’s voice that she could just about make out as a muffled sound through the floorboards. They were on the floor below. She had to be fast. Now wasn’t the time for sentiment, now, she had to be practical, smart and stealthy. She threw the backpack she’d lifted from yet another dead policeman onto her back, the barrels of the guns inside poked at her back but she paid it no mind as she collected her primary weapon, her bow from the hook on the back of the front door. A machete nudged against her leg as she walked, pinned there by the loop on its handle around the belt loop on her pants. She quickly freed it, clutching it in her hand as she adjusted her backpack. She stopped and looked at Ben.

He was glaring at her with his white eyes in the middle of the room, his rope was pulled taut and his neck tendons protruded. His hands were locked out in front of him with his fingers fanned out. She could hear the men clearly now, they were on the other side of the door and with every harsh bang of the wood in the frame, her heart jumped. She closed the gap between her and the corpse. Taking hold of one of his hands but not allowing him to pull her any closer. She gradually shifted his position in the room and gently squeezed his fingers.

“Don’t let me down” She whispered.

She raised the machete, sliced through his rope and ripped the wooden gag from his mouth. Then, she turned on her heels, taking hold of the window frame and diving through the gap. Outside, she slammed the window shut and watched as Ben’s hands slapped against the glass.

“Slow ‘em down, buddy. Thanks for the lessons.” She smiled.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Daryl chewed his bottom lip as he adjusted his position on the rickety, prison mattress. His back was pressed against the wall and no matter how hard he tried, she couldn’t shake the thought that of all the places the group could have ended up, a prison had to be one of them. He hated being forced to sleep in a cage and live behind heavy, clanking doors. Even the sound of Rick’s keys irritated him. Rick, the leader. Rick the prison guard.

He wasn’t a regular at the Georgia Department of Corrections like his brother. But he’d been on the wrong side of the law just enough to know what staring at the same four walls, sitting at the same metal table and taking a dump in the same room that you sleep in was like. Charges for drug possession and fighting were hardly the kind of things he wanted to share with the rest of the group and so, he kept himself to himself, merely stating that he’d rather sleep outside of the cells. That was when he slept at all.

In his hands, he held a newly carved bolt for his crossbow. His ability to make them had improved some over the months and it was now second nature to him to create as many as possible while sat around, babysitting his brother who was locked in the cell opposite him.

Merle hadn’t managed to track Daryl down since leaving the city. Instead, he’d come across another group of survivors led by a callous psychopath and had slotted perfectly into his role as the main foot soldier. Everything had been fine and dandy for Merle at first, he was given a metal prosthetic arm with a removable bayonet attachment which meant he was never short of a weapon against the undead. He had a roof over his head, food in his belly and medicine at his disposal. Above all else, he had a purpose, a job that he did well and with gusto. That was, until Daryl appeared in front of him. The Atlanta groups run in with the Governor and his community has resulted in a lot of pain, injuries, fear and grudges, some of it at the hands of Merle, who was at the center of it all, but he was Daryl’s blood and he had made it clear that now they were together again, he would not be parted from Merle again. Initially, the two of them left the group and headed into the woods, but things were not as they used to be. Daryl had changed and with it, Merle felt outcast, even from the lifelong bond the two of them had shared since Daryl had entered the world as a sensitive and observant child. Merle quickly realized that Daryl had a code that he stuck by no matter what. A code that meant others were put before himself which infuriated and baffled Merle. A fight in the woods revealed a childhood trauma that they both shared, much to Merle’s surprise. He was aware that Daryl was a witness to violence in their household, but the extent of which was only evident upon a scuffle in which Daryl’s shirt was ripped, revealing deep, scarred lacerations to his skin. Then, everything changed.

Daryl made it clear that he was going back to the prison. Back to the group he belonged with and Merle had the choice to either walk away or try to make nice with the others. Being parted from his little brother for a second time was the less favorable option and so, Merle decided to tag along with Daryl. Upon their arrival at the fences, they found the place under attack from Walkers and although Merle helped to save lives, he was still bundled into a cell and scowled at by every other member of the group. No one had forgotten the things he had done and no one was about to forgive and forget.

“The hell were ya doin, running with that psycho?” Daryl asked.

Merle was leaning on the bars, his good hand smoothing a thumb around the edging of his prosthetic stump. His hooded, weathered eyes fixed on his brother. He found it difficult to believe that someone could change as much as Daryl had. He saw him, carrying out orders for Rick, going out on runs alone, doing as he was told. It was unlike the Daryl he’d grown up with, yet he’d always known that his baby brother was more emotionally driven than he had ever been.

“Everybody’s a psycho now, little brother. Everybody’s got a gun, a kill number and a big ol’ chip on their shoulder. Hell, I’d be more worried if some sommbitch walked up to me with his mitts in his pockets.” He reasoned with a small shrug.

Daryl shook his head in disbelief at his brother’s casual attitude to his actions. Merle was never one to take responsibility for anything, least of all his misgivings. Apparently, the end of the world hadn’t changed that in him.

“They ain’t never gonna trust ya, ya know that, right?” Daryl confirmed.

“Yeah, I know.” Merle agreed with a hint of exasperation in his voice. Daryl went back to carving his bolts, slicing through thin pieces of wood with his sharp hunting knife. “I don’t know why I do the things I do. I’m a damn mystery to me.” Merle added.

Daryl scoffed and glanced up from his task.

“You’re a dumb ass, man.” He mumbled.

They both huffed in amusement and Merle couldn’t help but revisit the last few months and how he’d come to be locked up in a cell, even after everyone died and started eating one another. Was this really where he was meant to be? Maybe he was bad through and through, just like their daddy used to say. Maybe he didn’t deserve any more chances after the one he’d been given in the city. Then, he remembered her. Jess.  

“Remember the little, fat chick from the quarry?” He asked.

Daryl's body tensed and his eyes slowly worked back up from his bolt. He remembered her. Of course, he did. He thought about her every single day, especially when he closed his eyes at night. He wished he could wake up one day and she’d just be there, having never ran away. He remembered her because she was the only person he’d managed to connect with in his entire, sorry life.

“What ‘bout her?” he rasped.

“I seen her” Merle stated, his expression becoming smug as he straightened up and tilted his head back, looking down his nose at Daryl.

“She’s alive?!” Daryl exclaimed as he sat up to gain a better view of his brother’s expression. It was not lost on him that this could all be a lie to get him out of the cell.

“Was a few months back, mind. But yeah, all in one piece.” Merle told him.

Daryl stood up, dropping his knife and bolt and slowly approaching the cell door.

“Where is she?” he wanted to know.

Merle grunted and rubbed his face as he watched Daryl’s entire demeanor change. He was becoming irritated at the lack of information and it was apparent to Merle that Jess meant something to him, after all.

“Asked me to keep my mouth shut about that part.”

With his teeth locked together and his breathing increasing, Daryl began to stalk back and forth in front of the cell door, his boots scuffing on the smooth surface of the floor. He no longer thought it was a lie. He knew well enough that Jess would have made herself known if she wanted to, especially by then. After all, he found a note to prove it.

“She don’t wanna be found, kid. Let it go.” Merle added.

He stopped his pacing and let out a loud sigh. This kind of discussion was rare for the Dixons, it involved a degree of emotion and honestly which was something Merle didn’t seem to possess and Daryl managed to hide extremely well. Until the mention of her name.

“She doin OK?” He questioned “Least tell me that much. Please”

“She’s good. She’s real smart.” Merle nodded.

Picking up a pile of previously carved arrows from a table, Daryl began to sift through them with his fingertips. It looked to Merle like he was counting them, but he knew Daryl better than he knew himself. He was using them as a distraction. Merle didn’t even flinch when Daryl angrily threw the handful of wood onto the floor, the sound was like a million pencils falling from a table and rolling across the ground.

“Just tell me where she is!” Daryl raged.

Merle couldn’t help it when the corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile.

“Ooof! You got it bad, huh, boy?”

“Shut up.” Daryl hissed, turning his back and trying to calm himself. His shoulders heaved as he breathed. “I’m your fuckin’ brother” He muttered, hearing a rasped growl from behind him. A glance over his shoulder told him that Merle did really want to tell him as he witnessed him lean his head on the bars and close his eyes.

“I owe her, OK? She did right by me. Mans only as good as his word.” Merle explained.

Daryl spun around, his face now enraged and reddening fast, his eyes were filled with the kind of anger that Merle had usually only seen when the two of them fought and it was never the same kind of rage that presented itself in a fight with anyone else. It was different. It was real.

“Word?! WORD?! You can’t be fuckin’ serious! Your word counts for shit, Merle! You tortured Glenn and Maggie so don’t start pretendin’ you’re some good guy, ya ain’t!” Daryl yelled.

“I ain’t no good guy but I got a code. Just like you.” Merle retorted.

Stooping down to collect his arrows, Daryl knew he had to remove himself from the building or he would end up strangling the truth out of his own brother. With all of the arrows gripped in his hand, he pointed them at Merle and narrowed his gaze.

“If they wanna starve ya, I’mma let ‘em. If they wanna torture ya, I’mma walk away. I ain’t doin’ nothin’ for ya until ya tell me where Jess is. They can keep ya in that damn cage for all I care.”

Before he could think of an answer, Merle was left alone in the room with nothing but the fading echo of the door slamming for company.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Jess was running for so long that her feet were starting to burn and her knees were seizing up. She needed to stop somewhere and rest but being snared by the group of men with the black teeth and the woman in the cage was a thought that struck pure terror into her soul. She was sure she’d rather be eaten by Walkers than trapped with such a group. She’d stayed away from any roads, trekking through woodland and climbing over fences to remain undetected. Her clothing had helped keep her under the radar; a tight, black Kevlar top covered with her police vest and a black, hooded jacket. Dark camouflage cargo pants, black hand gun holsters and a mask that covered her mouth with a plastic outer shell that she had found on a dead biker as she fled the city.

Her bag was starting to feel heavier with every step as she approached a small town filled with abandoned cars. It looked as though people may have tried to settle there after the outbreak and the vehicles were left in a panic. She surged forwards, trying each car, looking for keys and gas. If she could just find one with enough to get her further away from the city, she could take some time to rest up. Darkness enveloped the town and birds and crickets sang a chorus as she wound her way through the cars, pleading with whatever deity would listen to just give her a break.

Then, her prayers were answered. A station wagon filled with boxes of clothes roared to life and to Jess’s delight, the tank was almost full. She set to work removing all the boxes, lightening the load so the gas wouldn’t be consumed as quickly and settled in the front seat. She pulled the door closed and drove off. Her destination was unknown but as far away from the city as she could get would be a start.

It was days before the truck ran out of gas and Jess had managed to put many, many miles in between her and the group that had almost captured her. On her journey, she’d swept through houses and collected anything she could carry on foot. She slept in buildings where they could be secured and had more than one exit, consumed any food she found in strict intervals, ensuring it lasted as long as possible and continued in the same direction she’d been travelling in for two weeks. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for in a settlement, just that it had to be safe, away from other people and walkers and with the capacity to be self-sustainable. Then, she found the boat.

Situated in the middle of a lake, accessible only by a large, fortified gate at the end of a dirt track that was well hidden from any passersby, Jess thought it might have been an old quarry due to its similarities to the old camp. The top of the gate was covered with razor wire and she narrowly avoided being sliced to ribbons when she caught her backpack on the barbs. But a rigorous wiggle and some quick thinking had literally saved her skin. The boat was so far away from the shoreline that Jess accepted that she had to use a canoe that was moored by a jetty. The water appeared to be untouched and there wasn’t a walker in sight. But chances weren’t to be taken when the dead roam the earth and she had to be sure. A collection of rocks of all sizes ended up in the lake, she threw them out as far as she could, trying to cause a stir and encourage any swimming walkers to rise to the surface. But nothing came to pass. By the evening, she’d hunted a rabbit and cooked it over a small fire on the beach. Using the skin attached to a tree branch, she dangled it in the water as the sun was going down and pondered how relaxing the place seemed.

“Huh. Walker fishing.” She mumbled to herself.

When nothing happened and the rabbit skin floated off the branch and out into the body of water, she decided to risk rowing out to the boat. Much to her surprise, the water was crystal clear and she spotted fish swimming below. Her stomach growled, the stringy, fatty meat of a rabbit hardly sufficing when such plump, and apparently disease-free fish were swimming all around her.

I need a fishing rod.

Climbing aboard, it was clear that she was not stood on a regular boat. This was luxurious, spacious and well looked after. The deck was starting to show signs of disrepair but it was a far cry from the dilapidated state of some of the houses she’d stayed in. She crept inside, sweeping the rooms one by one and eventually finding the inhabitants of the vessel. A middle-aged couple on the double bed in the largest bedroom of three. Both wrapped in an embrace in the middle of a mass of bottles of pills. She moved into the room, draping a sheet over them and resting her hand on the man’s arm.

“I hope you’re at peace. The world sure isn’t”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Merle stared at the dangerous, powerful and very angry black woman in the passenger seat of his car. She was not one to be messed with and that explained why he needed to knock her out before bundling her into the car and driving her to the Governor. It was all the man wanted. Michonne was responsible for his life changing injury after taking one of his eyes out with her samurai sword. Now, he wanted revenge and Merle was more than aware that if the Governor didn’t get what he wanted; he would obliterate the entire group. The group his brother was a part of.

“So, he takes you in, cleans you up and feeds you a load of bullshit. Why would you kill someone else for him?” She asked.

Merle didn’t answer, his eyes were on the road but his attention was elsewhere, with the safety of his brother back at the prison. He didn’t want to be there, handing Michonne over to the man that would ultimately torture and kill her was most definitely not something he wanted to do. But there were little options that he could see. Only he knew the true wrath of the Governor.

“We could go back. You and me. We could just go back.” She suggested.

“Ain’t gonna happen.” He commented.

“Why?”

Her eyes were bearing into his soul and wished he could put into words the things that were circulating in his mind. He had killed sixteen people since he’d been with the governor. Before that, he’d killed none. It dawned on him that Michonne was right, why would he kill any more people when he did have another way out? The alternative was less appealing and altogether more permanent. But it was an alternative nevertheless. He stopped the car and raised his prosthetic hand, the bayonet was fixed to the end. Michonne leaned back slightly in her seat, wondering if he might slit her throat there and then and cut out all the talking. Instead, Merle hooked the blade through her wire handcuffs and cut her free.

“You go back. I got somethin’ I gotta do on my own.” He told her, nodding towards the door. “But you’re gonna tell my brother somethin’ for me.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[freckled-words]

Fake It Till You Make It

This is a re-post.

This was originally prompted with “I told my sister I have a boyfriend so she’d stop trying to set me up with people, but now she’s coming to visit and I’m in too deep. I need a fake boyfriend, ASAP!”

Love to my editor @the-wild-ego

There were some days that Mare had to ask himself, “Why did I decide to befriend this person?”

That morning, the question came to the forefront of his mind. What else was he supposed to think when you barged into his bedroom, at nine in the morning?

You were a whirlwind of frantic energy, with a coffee in one hand and your keys in the other. You had simply rushed into his pitch black bedroom and began ranting while turning on his bedside light.

“Mare, I have an emergency. Not the same kind of emergency where I ripped my pants on presentation day. No, this is a Sister Emergency. By that, I mean she just would not shut up!”

Being a bounty hunter, by default, made Mare a night person. Nine in the morning was far too early for him. He growled into his pillow, trying desperately to block out your voice. He had his usual night out, canvassing for a hook-up and a pay break. He hadn’t crawled into bed until 3am.

You sat on the edge of his bed, your attention more on the space in front of you rather than on your friend trying to ignore you. “She was doing it AGAIN! Needling me about this friend, or that friend that’s single and would be promising for me. I could not take it anymore, Mare, I just wanted her to stop!”

Mare curled himself into a smaller ball under his blanket, hoping you would conclude your rant and then leave. He’d have a proper talk with you about your problems later.

“SoItoldherthatIalreadyhadaboyfriendandnowshe’scomingtovisitandwantstomeethim.PLEASEBEMYPRETENDBOYFRIEND!”

Mare’s sleep deprived brain relished in the silence that followed this last blurt. He was just starting to pass out again, and then he realized what it was you said.

He lifted the corner of his pillow, allowing you to see his bleary eyed glare. In turn, he got to see your absolutely pathetic expression with hopeful, puppy dog eyes. 

You didn’t budge, despite the chill he was sending your way. If Mare didn’t help you out, your next choice would demand a cost for the favor. 

“No.” Mare growled this just before burying himself under his pillow again.

Not accepting this answer, you launched yourself at him. You laid on top of him, bouncing you whined, “Pleeeeease Mare! It’ll only be for a few hours. Pleeeeeaaaaaase! I’ll owe you the biggest favor in the world for this!”

In a blur of movements, that left you disoriented, you suddenly found yourself buried under Mare’s blanket, and Mare on top of you. Fed up with your whining, Mare had knocked your arms out from under you, flipped over beneath his blanket, grabbed you in the blanket, then rolled you under him. 

His brown eyes were tinged grey as his power fed off his grouchy mood, “I will do this, once, and only once, after that you will tell your sister we broke up, and you will never use me for your fake boyfriend again…. You’ll also do my laundry for the next two months.”

Pinned as you were, the only part of you Mare could see were your eyes. Your gush of enthusiasm was muffled,“YES! Thank you, thank you!” You were grateful for the blanket covering your face, as the blush on your cheeks might have made Mare a bit suspicious.

Groaning, Mare got off and made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of espresso. He was going to need three of them before he was ready to leave the house. His sleep addled brain also needed some help to process his jumble of thoughts. If it weren’t for the rude wake up call, Mare wouldn’t have any hesitation in agreeing. This would be a good way for him to, at least, get a chance at experiencing what he’d been considering for some time.

You waited until Mare was out of sight before calling out to him, “One more thing! It needs to be today, she’ll be here at noon!” 

The resulting clatter of something being dropped, followed by Mare’s swearing, convinced you to stay where you were under the blanket.

A couple hours later….

You sat next to Mare, out on the patio section of your local Cactus Club. It was a restaurant that people, wearing work casual clothes, or even suits, tended to go to for lunch. They catered to meetings, but didn’t discriminate against more casual guests. 

You currently felt lumped in the casual category, dressed in your jeans, sneakers, and a zipper sweater. Mare was good looking enough to be considered well dressed, even in his black t-shirt, black denim jacket, and dark blue jeans. 

Your sister, Melanie, looked ready to become the next president of the United States. An off-white blouse; smoke grey blazer; black, form fitting pants; gold, chain necklace; tiny, gold, hoop earrings; and her hair pulled up in a tight bun. 

Melanie worked in the corporate world, and had been a go-getter all her life. She was a good, big sister, didn’t tease or make snide comments about your life. She’d pick a little, wanting to help you strive to the top of whatever field you were interested in.  For Christmas she always gave you a classy new outfit, that usually were to your tastes. Those Christmas outfits were a blessing for job interviews over the years.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Mare. I’ve heard about you over the years, and I know you two were friends, I was just waiting for the day you two got together.” Melanie practically crooned as she said this, her eyes on the menu in front of her.

Mare raised a brow at you, “You’ve been telling your family about me?”

Your eyes were glued to your menu as well, debating between the chicken tenders or the quesadilla, “Sure, you’re my best friend. It reassured my parents to know I had someone looking out for me.”

Mare made no comment, deciding instead to casually slip his arm around your shoulders, squeezing you against him with a teasing smile. 

Melanie caught this over the top of her menu, and noted the blush both wore. She was happy she spotted this, as Mare took back his arm and their blushes faded.

Her decision made, Melanie closed her menu and settled her gaze on Mare, “So, tell me, how did it happen? What changed to make you go from friends to lovers?”

Tough, paranormal, bounty hunter that Mare was, he still blushed alongside you at the word ‘lovers.’

You were quick to answer, having anticipated the question in advance, “It was one of those realization moments, ya know? We were hanging out at his place, venting about our jobs, and I just felt like, it was easy. It’s always been easy, and with him being so good looking, it was a no brainer for me to ask.”

Melanie rested her elbows on the table, her fingers locked together as she listened, “You asked? Just right then and there? That’s not usually your style, normally you take weeks to get up the nerve just to talk to a guy you’re head over heels for.”

Mare chuckled, “Y/N didn’t confess their love or anything, they just asked if we could try.” 

You smiled warmly, appreciating Mare jumping in, and adding to the illusion of them being a couple.

Melanie smiled, relaxing back in her seat, “That’s rather mature for you, being on your own has really helped your growth.”

From there things fell into an easy pattern of conversation, thankfully with Melanie wanting to learn a little more about Mare, and sharing stories of common interests.

By the time they’d had their food delivered, along with some drinks, it felt more like a group of friends hanging out than a couple under scrutiny from the big sister.

The three of you were nearly done eating when the bill was brought over. You reached to take it, and to your surprise, Mare grabbed it first, “I’ve got this. It was a treat getting to meet you, so I may as well treat you both in return.”

You and Melanie made a kind of snort/scoff at the same time, which embarrassed Melanie, as she tried to refrain from ever doing it in public. Mare thought it was cute that you two shared something like that. 

Just as he opened the slim, black folder with the bill inside, movement caught his eye. Turning to look he froze.

Taking the order from an elderly couple, three tables down, was Jacob Matthews. Mare had been trying to find the guy for weeks! He was wanted for an armed robbery. If Mare brought him in, he was looking at a whopping $5,000 upon delivery.

Smiling pleasantly back at you and Melanie, Mare put the bill back down, “If you’d excuse me a moment, I have a work matter to take care of.” 

You paled. You’d been with Mare once before, when a ‘work matter’ arose suddenly. Before you could tell Mare to leave it he was hopping out of his seat, his smoke pooling in his hands to form a semi-solid length of rope.

Melanie gaped, “Uh… Y/N… remind me what his job is again?”

“Mr. Matthews, I’d like to have a word with you!” 

Jacob Matthews looked at who was calling him out, recognized Mare, and immediately bolted.

Grinning at being given a chase, Mare swung his rope around and up in a lasso. Patrons rushed out of their chairs, clearing the space that Jacob was approaching, and where Mare was walking past.

Mare tossed the lasso forward and it immediately honed in on it’s target. The noose snagged onto Jacob’s ankle, allowing Mare to yank back hard. Thrown off, Jacob did a massive face plant onto the floor, just inches from the employees only entrance.

Covering your face with your hands you groaned, “It’s his job to make a big fucking scene.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Mare had secured Jacob in the back of his car, he’d come back and paid for the bill. The smile on his face was the brightest, happiest thing you’d seen him wear in months. 

Melanie’s opinion of Mare, thankfully, didn’t change too much. She even dared to make a joke about it, “If he can do that to catch a criminal, just be sure to use a really good safe word when playing in bed.”

She’d said this to you in a whisper, leaving Mare confused as to why you were suddenly blushing and spluttering. 

She gave Mare a hug and demanded he keep you safe. 

He smiled over at you with a wink, “That was always the plan.”

Once Melanie had driven off you fully relaxed, “Well that wasn’t the complete nightmare I thought it might turn into. Thanks for putting up with the charade.”

“It wasn’t any different than a normal outing for us. Just a little lying mixed in this time.” 

You walked alongside him back to his car. When you reached the front passenger door, Mare put a hand out that kept you from opening it.

“You know… it doesn’t have to be a lie.”

You blinked up at him. If you weren’t mistaken, that was an adorable blush on his cheeks. 

Tilting your head a bit, so his eyes would meet yours, you asked, “Are you asking seriously, or are you just getting off on the adrenaline from earlier?” You jerked your thumb at the tied up Jacob in the backseat of his car.

His mouth twitched with a smirk, “I’ve actually been meaning to ask you out for a while… you just always seemed indifferent to me, and I didn’t want to lose what we have.”

The air in your lungs whooshed out. Stepping back from him you felt your face heat up with a blush of your own, “It’s not that I’m indifferent… just…. comfortable? And what was I supposed to think when I’ve seen all the partners you drag to bed?!” You gestured to yourself, as though to remind him of exactly how you looked.

Mare’s smirk came out in full as he closed the distance between you in a couple easy steps. Leaning in close, he asked with an almost purr to his tone, “And who’s fault is it, that I’ve been dragging so many one night stands to bed, hmm? Maybe I’ve been trying to scratch a particular itch, that none of them can satisfy.”

You didn’t dare move, much less breathe! You’ve never had this side of Mare unleashed on you, and it was causing your brain to fight itself between terrified and exhilarated. 

“I…. um…..”

“You two are hot to watch and all, but if you’re going to bring me in, can you just do it already? I’m sweating to death back here.”

The simmering heat in Mare’s eyes froze over. You could only give Jacob a pitying stare when Mare leveled his glare on the man. You heard Jacob yip and watched him squirm as the smoke rope began to heat up. You knew, from experience, that it would get just hot enough to be really uncomfortable, but not painful. If Jacob had been sweating before, he was going to be a dried out husk in a puddle of his own sweat by the time they reached the police station. 

Able to get your thoughts back in order, you gave Mare a friendly poke to the chest, “Come on cowboy, let’s get this varment to the sheriff. We can talk more about us over some ice cream after.”

Mare rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again. He opened the front passenger door, and as you went past him to sit, he snuck a kiss to your cheek. 

That was his first stolen kiss, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. He’d make sure of that.

[katlyn1948]

When We’re Sober  (AryaxGendry Week Day 5: Don’t Lie to Me)

When We're Sober

Katlyn1948

Summary:

Arya and Gendry finish what they started.

Notes:

So because many of you asked for a second part...here it is. It is for Arya/Gendry week "Don't Lie To Me" and is a companion piece for "Drunken Night." You don't have to read that one, but you may want to to understand the contents. I hope you enjoy!

Work Text:

Arya grumbled. Her head was pounding, and her stomach twisted in ways that meant a trip to the porcelain throne. the night before was a blur and the only thing she could remember was that her home team had won the championship.

Slowly she opened her eyes, grimacing at the sunlight illuminating the already bright white walls. With an audible groan she lifted her sore body perching herself up against the headboard. It took a few minutes for her to realize that she was in her room. As she rubbed away the sleep from her eyes, bits and pieces of the night before began to reemerge.

She remembered the tournament, the round of shots she bought the entire bar, and the way that her best friend's lips felt on hers. She shouldn't have remembered the feeling, but the memory was like a searing hot knife being burned into her skin. She remembered how soft they were and how sweet they tasted and how much she wanted more. She brought her fingers to her lips, her mind lingering on the memory of the night prior.

A soft mumbling brought her back to reality. She looked down at the sleeping form of Gendry drooling on her brand-new pillow and smiled at how ridiculous he looked. He was sleeping on his stomach with his arms at his side. His soft snores seemed louder than usual and there was a string of saliva pooling on the fabric of the pillow.

They both had passed out after their failed attempt at promiscuity, falling into a deep slumber that Gendry had yet to wake from. As quietly as she could, she tried to inch herself off the bed, minding the fact that Gendry was still asleep. She knew better than to wake a sleeping bull, especially one that had a rough night.

As she stood from her bed a sudden wave of nausea engulfed her body causing her to sprint to the adjoining bathroom. Flipping the lid to the toilet she bent down and began retching the contents of her stomach.

“Someone had a rough night.” She heard Gendry say from behind her.

She lifted her head from the bowl only to give him a scowl. She flashed her middle finger and returned to emptying her stomach. Gendry chuckled and knelt beside her, brushing her hair from her face so that she didn’t get it dirty.

“Gods, how are you still standing?” She said after she had finished her less than enjoyable escapade.

She walked over to her sink and pulled her toothbrush from the holder. She couldn’t wait to get the taste of stale tequila and bile out of her mouth. Arya studied Gendry in through the mirror. He was grinning from ear to ear, obviously proud of her ability to handle alcohol.

“I have a liver of steel, Arya. Runs in the family.” He patted his stomach and immediately regretted the decision. Something must have shifted when he did that because Arya saw his cocky expression turn to one of sickness.

He nearly tripped running to the toilet as he then began to empty his own stomach.

“Liver of steel, my ass.” She mumbled under her breath.

She finished brushing her teeth, wiping away any excess of toothpaste from her mouth. She rummaged through the draw of her sink pulling out a new toothbrush for Gendry to use.

“Come to the kitchen when you’re done puking.” She called out over her shoulder as she turned to leave the bathroom.

As she entered her room, she noticed just how much of a disarray it was. Her and Gendry were literally flying blind the night before and must have knocked a few pieces of furniture out of their respective places. It also didn’t help that Arya’s room was always a mess. She had clothes piled every where and shoes just thrown about her room. She never took the time to clean it and her excuse what that it was organized chaos and she knew exactly where everything was.

She glanced around the room, looking for a shirt that did not smell like puke, and found Gendry’s discarded shirt on the side of her bed. It was a simple t-shirt that had the word ‘Mott’s’ written on the front. Gendry had snagged it the last day he worked at the auto shop wanting a souvenir for the memories. She shrugged off her own shirt and slipped the large one over her head. Arya was as tiny thing, so the shirt looked about three sizes too big on her body. She did not mind, she like that the shirt covered her bum, stopping mid-thigh. It allowed her to roam around her apartment without pants and another advantage was that it smelled exactly like Gendry.  

She shuffled out of her room and made her way into the small kitchen.

Her apartment was not large, just a single bedroom with a small living room and an even smaller kitchen. It was comfy compared to the giant manor she had grown up in. Arya had always been the type to lone about herself, so when the time came for her finally move out of her parents’ house and get a flat on her own, it was no brainer that it would be a small one.

The upside to having a tiny kitchen, Arya knew exactly where everything was. Unlike her room, Arya kept her kitchen immaculate. Although she never really cared of what people thought of her appearance, she had a sense of pride to keep her home tidy (at least the parts that the outside public sees). She stepped into the kitchen and pulled two clean glasses from side cabinet next to the refrigerator, filling them up with water.

Her stomach may be at ease and her breath may smell pristine, but her head was still pounding. She grabbed the bottle of Tylenol that she kept on the bar and down three of those suckers with her tall glass of lukewarm water. She dispensed four more painkillers, leaving them on the side for Gendry.

“Hey, have you seen my shirt?” He asked when he finally emerged from her bedroom.

“Yep. I’m wearing it.”

“Well, I need it- oh thank the gods.” His attention quickly shifted to the glass of water and pills patiently waiting for him on the counter.

Arya watched as he chugged the glass, sighing in relief as he finished.

“So, about my shirt…” Gendry rubbed the back of his neck as a slight blush reached his cheeks. He had noticed that Arya was wearing nothing but his shirt, her bare legs visible for him to see.

Arya shrugged, “What about it?”

“I kind of need it back. So I can go home.” He said sheepishly.

“Why do you want to go home?” She questioned as she popped a grape into her mouth. She had grabbed the bag from fridge when Gendry was busy drowning in his glass.

“I…uhh…have to feed my fish.” He stuttered.

Arya scoffed, “Fish? You do not have any fish. Come on Gendry, don’t lie to me. You want to leave because this whole situation is awkward for you. Do you even remember last night? Because I do.”

Gendry’s face was now a full on tomato, “Of course I remember last night. I…I was just hoping that you didn’t.”

Arya’s face twisted in confusion, “Why?”

Gendry let out a sigh he did not realize he was holding. There were tons of reasons as to why he did not want her to remember, but the number one reason was that he did not want their friendship to be ruined. They were best friends; had been for years and the prospect of ruining that friendship was terrifying. He had always seen Arya as nothing more than a friend, a sister maybe, that was until a few years ago. He had noticed how much she had changed from a girl to a woman. There were times where his mind would wonder to the idea of being with intimately and he nearly had his chance, until they both completely blew it. It took him a long time to realize that Arya was the one for him, even when he was with his crazy ex-girlfriend, but their friendship meant more to him than any relationship he could hope to have with her.

“Look, Arya I-” He began to say, but his words were quickly cut off when Arya began removing his shirt from her body.

“You said you needed your shirt, so here you go.” She threw the shirt his way, but his mind was preoccupied with the half-naked woman standing in front of him.

Arya knew exactly what she was doing. She knew that Gendry was scared to take the next step, so to help ease it along, she discarded his shirt from her body, knowing full and well her breasts would be on full display. The only thing keeping her from being completely naked was the black lacy underwear she had worn the night before.  

“Is something wrong?” She asked innocently.

“I...well…um…I mean you…oh fuck it.” He threw his shirt to the floor and quickly engulfed Arya into his arms. He crashed his lips to hers, savoring the feeling. This time they were completely sober and knew that they did want each other in more ways than one.

Arya wrapped her legs around his waist and he moved them to the couch, laying her gently on the cushions. He parted from the kiss only to release himself from his tightening pants.

“So, your zipper works this time?” She teased.

“Well, we did agree to do this when we are sober so…” He mocked in return.

Arya laughed, “Shut up you stupid bull and take me already.”

“As you wish.”

[leondraisaitlsglove]

Transcript: Peter and Leon Draisaitl in a double interview ahead of the NHL Global Series Challenge

[This is a little rough, yo. Obviously not an exact translation but I tried to stay as true to the original wording as possible while getting the general meaning across properly. The result is a bit stilted. Rick Goldmann (interviewer) speaks a dialect that obviously doesn’t translate here and Peter mumbles a bit in places so I had to take some liberties there. The general tone of the interview is jokey and casual, Leon and his dad are bantering, but there’s heartfelt and serious bits too! I also chose to keep ‘Papa’ (dad) and ‘Mama’ (mom) in their original German bc I think it’s cute, lol. But anyway, YEET! Let me know what you think. Theres two lil McDrai moments in there if you squint.]

I LOVE YOU ANON THANK YOU FOR MAKING MY MCFREAKING DAY IM GONNA READ IT NOW AND THEN SOUND OFF IN THE TAGS WHEN IM DONE. THANK YOU. YOUR HARD WORK IS VERY APPERICATED.

This is the interview for anyone wondering

Rick Goldmann: Welcome, Peter and Leon Draisaitl, to what I’m going to call a ‘family interview‘ here on Sport1 [channel name]. I’m guessing this kind of interview, a double interview, has been done more frequently recently now that you [Peter] are the coach in Cologne [of the Kölner Haie ‘Cologne Sharks’, Colognes Hockey team in the DHL, the German pro Hockey league] and you [Leon] are here [in Cologne]. How often has this happened so far?

Peter: Not really that often. We’ve maybe done it one or two times, three maximum. It hasn’t been that many times.

Leon: Yes [agreeing noises]

RG: So you’re not getting tired of it?

L: Not yet, no. I think we still have quite a bit of that ahead of us in the following days, especially before the game.

P: Yes.

RG: Let’s just start at the beginning. You could say that you two spent the summer here in Cologne together. What did that look like?

Peter: Leon spent two bigger chunks of time in Prague, where he prepared with his trainer. We took a vacation together for three weeks, in Spain. When we were in Cologne, he [Leon] trained here with us [the Kölner Haie] to get ready, both ‘dry’ [gym etc.] training and going out on the ice with us. [Starts grinning] But by now he’s hanging out with the boys more rather than spending time at home with us.

PG: So when you’re in Cologne, Leon, you stay with your Papa?

L: Yes, with my parents.

RG: Who’s responsible for cooking? Not you.

L: Not me, no. [Huffs] Certainly not me. Mama, mostly, when we eat at home.

RG: Okay. But you went on vacation together. You did that together this summer. It’s been a brutally hot summer. I heard you actually don’t enjoy water that much. Is that true? If yes, how did you even survive?

L: Where did you hear that?

RG: Maybe I didn’t come prepared.

L: No, it’s true, I’m not much of a … I mean I do like cooling off, but if I do it’s more likely to be in a pool rather than the big open sea where you never know what’s swimming around underneath you.

RG: So you respect the ocean?

L: Yeah, for sure.

P: I could prove that with a picture or two.

RG: Where did that come from? Has that been the case since he was little?

P: Hmm. Yeah, actually, he was still wearing those little red … what’s the word?

L: Water wings.

P: …water wings or whatever they’re called, and he already didn’t trust the water back then. And he has kept that up to this day.

RG: [Jokingly] Did you not inflate them properly?

P: [Laughs] That’s certainly possible.

RG: I’ve heard something else along with you not liking the water – that in juniors, you actually didn’t play hockey for a year. [Leon nods] How did that happen and what did you think of that, Peter?

L: Yeah I mean my parents were actually pretty… they essentially supported me in whatever… from the beginning it was clear that if I didn’t like Hockey, it wouldn’t be a big problem. I essentially tried out every sport; I’ve played golf, I’ve played tennis… I experimented a lot, and there was a time when Hockey for me was – I think it was actually because we were moving house, moving house a lot annoyed me about Hockey so I stopped playing for a year and played soccer, but it turned out that wasn’t for me [chuckles].

P: [Chuckling]

RG: [to Peter] What did you think? He’s not a soccer player? Or did you not care?

P: Let’s be serious for a while: If he had stuck with soccer, that would’ve been fine for us. We realized, or learned, or understood early on that there’s no sense in pressuring your children into it. Just because I was stomping around somewhere sometime [aka playing hockey], that doesn’t mean he absolutely has to do the same thing. If he had told me; ‘Papa, golf, tennis suits me more’ that would have been…

Leon: Fencing.

P: …been fine for our family. Fencing, sure. With your motor skills… I don’t think so. [Leon grins] It would’ve been okay. I don’t remember, was it even a full year?

L: I don’t know either. Not sure if it was a whole year.

P: He dipped his toes into it, at Fortuna was it?

L: [Offended] That’s Fortuna Düsseldorf. It was Victoria Köln.

P: Or Victoria. No idea.

L: Victoria Köln, yes.

P: But I think that stopped after a few weeks or so.

L: Because they wouldn’t let me take the free kick once, yeah.

RG: That made you not want to do it anymore?

L: Yeah, I lost my motivation after that.

[All laugh]

P: He came back to Hockey after that.

RG: If there’s a list of things you guys don’t want to hear anymore: How far up there is ‘The German Gretzky?’

L: You mean as a nickname?

RG: Yeah, that people call you that.

L: Ehhh, Actually… I try to distance myself from that a little bit, nicknames and all that. Stuff like that tends to come from the media anyway, and if they enjoy writing stuff like that, whatever, go ahead.

RG: Of course it comes from the media, but you still notice it. As a former player I’d say how do you come up with bullshit like that, but they need their headlines. When you heard it the first time, what did you think about it, Peter?

P: As I’m sure you can imagine I wasn’t exactly thrilled with it, because it puts unnecessary pressure on the young guys. Like everyone in this sport knows, there has only ever been one and there will only ever be one [Wayne Gretzky], and that comparison with the name alone already isn’t fair. And in the end it doesn’t even make any sense. But it’s actually pretty cool that Leon is able to – and has always been able to – absorb stuff like that and then put it aside. He doesn’t dwell on it when he generates headlines like that, generates ‘hype’ like that, as it’s already happened in the past, with the junior draft and the NHL draft, interviews and so forth. So far he’s always handled it pretty professionally.

RG: You’ve brought up an interesting aspect: the mental aspect in professional sports. Especially now with how Hockey has developed, maybe in comparison with other players in the DHL, in Europe, with the NHL - what kind of importance does it have for you? The ‘mental strength’ as some people call it?

L: In my personal opinion, over 90% of it takes place in your head. Without wanting to disrespect anyone, when I train with the guys here: they’re not slower – well maybe when compared to someone like McDavid – but generally they’re not slower, their shooting isn’t worse than that of the guys I train with overseas, but in my opinion it’s something in your head. It’s all mental games, mental stuff that plays a huge role in Hockey, and in sports in general.

RG: [to Peter] If you think back to your career and you compare it to Leons, what would you like to have that he does and you didn’t?

P: If you move beyond the fact that times were different back then – no videos, no social media – the NHL was so far removed from us for most players, and definitely for me, that I wasn’t even thinking about it. But putting that aside, maybe his maturity or his mental strength. Because I figured out pretty late what this sport was about, I wasted years of my time playing hockey by not taking it seriously as a team sport, not knowing what it meant to be part of a greater whole. Where I needed to position myself to be actually useful. And he [Leon] understood that much earlier.

RG: If you had to describe him as a player how would you do that?

P: As someone who … maybe partially already is, but will definitely succeed in being a dominant two-way player. Who, with his skills, should be able to carry a line, to lead and direct a group of five players. Moreover he has the ability to score - to set up plays and also score himself. I don’t think I’m wrong when I say that Leon is developing that way. I think that’s his overarching goal he wants to reach, so he can compete with the superstars of our sport. People like Crosby, who have already won tons of stuff, who have proven not just once but over and over again that when it really counts, they can bring it.

RG: [to Leon] How would you rate that evaluation by a coach, by your Papa?

L: He knows me, of course. He knows that it’s my goal to get there someday, to be a two-way forward that can score goals but who doesn’t think he’s above doing the dirty work defensively. Who takes important face-offs and who’s a complete, all around good hockey player.

RG: Leon, this year was the first time you’ve done your prep work in Cologne. How did that happen and why did you choose to do your training camp for the NHL season in Germany?

L: I’m from here. I grew up here. This is the perfect scene for me, and with my dad as a coach here, it gives me every opportunity to prepare successfully and well. A weight room, I can go on the ice, every day, use the gym every day, so that’s a no brainer for me.

RG: When you’re on the ice here, your Papa is the coach. What’s that situation like for you, when he’s the one blowing the whistle?

L: [Grinning] By now I’ve gotten used to it a little. Since I’ve always kind of done it like that over the years, that I go train wherever my dad happens to be at the time. Sometimes when he gets a little louder it’s a bit weird for me, because I only know my Papa from what he’s like at home, talking shit, joking around. So when it gets serious all of a sudden… but other than that it’s pretty normal. I know it’s a business, I know this is his job and I’m smart enough to separate that from home life.

RG: So I guess that means when you were little, you were just like all the other kids, following your dad into the locker room and getting to know Hockey like that. Was it essentially a pre-decided thing that you’d get into hockey yourself?

L: If you follow basic logic, of course that had something to do with it. I don’t know, a couple of weeks ago I saw pictures of me where I could barely walk and was wearing a giant red helmet and gloves that were half my…

P: And a pacifier, don’t forget that. A pacifier.

L: …half my entire body size. So of course I got into it via my dad. But I think the passion, to a certain degree, you have to develop yourself.

RG: When you think back, what’s the first thing you remember of your dad in regards to Hockey?

L: For me, the coolest thing was after the game when the kids were allowed to come down and onto the ice and were handed over the glass by one of the parents. Then taking a victory lap with Papa, that was the best… I always loved that.

P: And my back check at Schalke.

L: And his back check at Schalke in 2010, that was also…

P: Formative. Formative, definitely.

L: I’ll never forget that.

RG: Your back check at Schalke?

P: Yeah, I burned my equipment after that. Before the game there was a match against the Grasbrunner (?) guys, a pre-game.

RG: At the World Cup Germany were hosting? In front of 70000 people?

P: Exactly, yeah. That was when I realized…

L: Let it go. Hang them up.

P: Stop playing.

L: Give it up.

P: And that was the last time I played a hockey game.

RG: Oh, really?

P: Yeah.

RG: Mine too, by the way.

P: There you go.

RG: I saw you and thought to myself: better not try again.

P: That’s it, now it’s over.

RG: When did you realize what kind of talent Leon had, the potential he had?

P: The first time I thought it could be enough for a higher level was when I was overseas at Prince Albert and it was starting to look likely he’d get drafted at the junior draft, or rather the NHL draft, relatively highly. And then you obviously have the hope, if you’re talking about the first round or something, that he could end up in the best league, in the NHL.

RG: [to Leon] You’re 22 years old, turning 23, how much would you say have you reached your potential as a hockey player?

L: I’d say I have a lot more in me. Or rather, I know I have a lot more to give. At 22 no Hockey player, no athlete is at the point he can reach by 26, 27, 28. It’s a process I’m looking forward too, but I also know it’s very hard work. I’ll try to get better and better each year.

RG: Now there’s going to be this game, the global series that’s taking place here. The game was sold out within 10 minutes. When did you first find out there would be the opportunity to play against an NHL team as a coach here in Cologne?

P: I don’t remember, or I somehow… [Leon murmuring] excuse me?

L: I think it was through me.

P: That’s possible. I think at first I didn’t even realize it. I heard about the Oilers playing here, I thought it was a joke at first. When it became official I thought okay, well, this is a fact now. Again, for ‘Kölle’ [nickname for the city in the regional accent] this game, and the winter game later in the season, are huge, fantastic events awaiting us. I think this event, this game against the Oilers will be really fun for everyone involved.

RG: The global series, Leon, to explain the basics, what’s the idea behind it? Why does the NHL play games abroad, in Europe?

L: I think it’s to push markets in countries where Hockey isn’t as popular. To increase the importance of Hockey worldwide, and especially in countries where it’s relatively unknown, like China, like Germany, I don’t know where else. Or in smaller countries, to push the sport. I think the NHL is doing a really good job, and I personally really like that they’re doing these kinds of matches. I think for the DHL teams as well, or with New Jersey in Switzerland, for the Swiss teams, it’s a highlight and everyone is looking forward to it.

RG: In this game, Edmonton Oilers vs. Kölner Haie, how important is the Draisaitl vs. Draisaitl duel? It’s not every day you get the chance to beat your dad, and it’s not every day you get to coach against an NHL team either.

P: Well this is going to be his only chance, because in table tennis and every other game [Leon protests by puffing up his cheeks and laughing] he can’t keep up, so maybe Wednesday will be the only time he gets the opportunity. But I don’t see them beating us yet.

L: [Grinning, then mock-serious] This is going to be one of many times I’ll beat my dad, in various things. No, like he said, it’s going to be an outstanding event, for our family it’s going to be special as well. And I think for them [Kölner Haie] it will be the hardest, I think they don’t quite know what’s in store for them yet. Being neutral is [unintelligible]

RG: If you absolutely had to pick a player from Edmonton to play with the Kölner Haie – and you have to, otherwise you’d say you wouldn’t take any – you need to take one.

P: I have to, yes.

RG: Who would you pick?

P: He would start right now? For the season?

RG: Yeah, exactly. Who do you pick?

P: I’ll have to think for a little bit. There’s quite a few who are… I would have to decide between McDavid and Leon. But you only want one.

RG: Yeah, and why you’d pick him. Who and for what reason.

P: I’d pick McDavid. Leon will have to deal with that.

L: [Mockingly] Incomprehensible. Can’t understand that choice.

P: He needs to be strong now.

RG: if you had to pick one for Edmonton – one of the Cologne guys.

L: From the Cologne team. Hmm. [clicks his tongue] Pfohli [Fabio Pfohl]. I think he has the potential. His Hockey IQ is on a really high level. In my opinion it should be his goal to play in the NHL.

P: Okay.

RG: [to Peter] You’ll stick with your choice? McDavid?

P: [nodding]

L: [grinning, shaking his head] Can’t understand that.

[All laughing]

RG: Okay, thank you!

[killjoy-loveit]

Hack This Part 9

A/N: You may or may not know the drill by now, but here it is anyways: this is in 1st POV (like my other stuff), I hope it will be 10 parts (if it isn’t I will make it very clear), and I would also like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction. When mature content starts it will be denoted with ***

Summary: Reina almost loses hope for receiving the file, and her feelings are laid bare.

Word Count: 2,175

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 10

Bonus Scene

Profanity/MATURE CONTENT Warning!

***Do NOT read if you are uncomfortable with sexual content!

    I didn’t hear from Noah for two weeks. Two weeks. The only option was to assume she got caught and for some reason that left my stomach in knots. My one chance of getting Z’s file was obliterated, just like that, and it was killing me. Now I would have to find some other way to get to it, if there even was a way and this wasn’t just some hopeless fools errand. I think I might have to get Z involved, it might be the only way now, as much as it pains me to admit.

    “Z?” I call out, stepping into the living room.

    “Yeah?” He answers back, sticking his head out from the archway of the kitchen.

    “I need to talk to you.”

    Z moves out of the kitchen hesitantly. “This doesn’t sound like a good thing. Did I do something wrong?”

    “No, no. Nothing like that, Z. It’s- it’s something I did. Something I need your help with.”

    A frown replaces the unease on his face as he makes his way over to me, taking my hands in his. “What is it?”

    “I--.” I get cut off by the abrupt ringing of my phone. Pulling it out of my pocket, completely prepared to silence it, or shut it off entirely, but the name lighting up the screen made me freeze. In that moment I forgot about Z’s presence, hurriedly answering the phone and pressing it to my ear. “Noah?”

    “Thought I was dead didn’t you?” Her snarky tone came across the line.

    “Yes, actually.” I murmur, looking up at Z’s face at the squeeze from his hands.

    “I got the file. It took longer than I thought it would. I slipped into the mailbox of your apartment ten minutes ago. That’s it, the life debt has been repaid.”

    I whisper into the phone. “Thank you.” The line went dead.

    “Why was Noah calling you?” Z questioned, tilting his head.

    “She-she was doing me a favor, I guess.”

    “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “So, um, what were you gonna tell me?”

    “It can wait, there’s something I need to do now.” I say, slipping my hand from his and rushing out of the apartment.

    The file had everything. Everything. Names, numbers, amounts, locations, how much of the debt has been paid off, how much is left, and every job Z has ever worked. It was a crazy amount now, that much was for sure, what with the interest rates being extremely high. The time it would take to gather the amount to cover this debt would be a while, especially if I didn’t want to draw any attention to us. I would need at least three weeks to accomplish this, and that infuriated me because I just wanted this over and done with.

    For the past week and a half I barely left my room, only leaving to get food and energy drinks. And then I was right back at the computer, coding until my vision swam. I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but finally getting this done. The relief it would be, how amazing to be free once again. For him at least, there was no way I’d be let go without a fight, they’d probably rather kill me first. This was the one thing I could do for him though, give him freedom from this life, the freedom to live how he wanted now.

      I was about halfway through hacking into a very-well off businessman’s bank account- he wouldn’t miss a couple million dollars, not with how much he had stored away. When the door to my room burst open, revealing Z who looked quite frustrated about something. He stood there for a second, his eyes locked onto mine, and appeared quite domineering in the small doorway. Then he moved forward until he was right in front of where I sat, towering over me.

     “I got a call from Noah.” He finally said after what felt like hours.

      Panic rose in my chest, she wouldn’t tell him about what I’d asked her to do would she? As if he could sense my thoughts, Z laughed, nodding his head lightly.

     “She asked me if that file had been able to help with my situation. I didn’t know what she was talking about at first, but then she kindly explained it to me.” Z turned, his feet carrying him across my room. He kept going like that, pacing in order to piece together his thoughts so he could form a coherent sentence. “You had her risk her life to get my damn file. Why? Why was it so important, Reina?”

     I froze in my seat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Z this upset about something I’ve done before. “I-I needed the file, Z. Your file is practically your life, and she said you saved Jongup’s life and for that she owed you. A life for a life!” I cry out in a weak attempt at an explanation for my actions.

     His head snapped towards me, and he stalked forward, his stare burning holes into my skull. “A life for a life? This isn’t 17th century B.C.E, normal people don’t live by those rules anymore! She could have died, Reina! Do you understand that?” Z shouted, the veins in his throat making an appearance and letting me know just how upset he was.

     By this point I was getting frustrated, tears had welled up in my eyes due to this frustration. “I know what could have happened! I’m not an idiot, Z. But when it comes down to it, the question to me was who is more important? Some girl I don’t know, or the guy who saved my life? It’s a no-brainer! Not when the guy in that question makes me feel safe, and makes me feel happy for the first time I can remember in years! To me, your life was more important, can’t you see that?” Tears streamed down my face as I spoke, the internal dam I built keeping them at bay having broke at his crushing words.

      Z froze, my words sending him into a stupor. “Wait, wait. What? Could you please repeat that?”

     “Which part? The part where I said you make me feel safe and happy? Or the fact that I find your life is more important?”

     The anger faded from his face, a small smile appearing. “That’s it. The part where I make you feel safe and happy. Really?”

     I let out a short laugh, choking softly on my tears. “How many times will I have to repeat myself? Yes, you make me feel safe, and happier than I have been in years. You-it’s so stupid, but you’ve become my sense of security, and you make me feel at ease, comfortable. I trust you. God, I’m such an idiot for admitting this.”

      I spin the chair around, not wanting to face him after baring my feelings like that. Hands on the back of the chair spun it back around to face him. His eyes were intense with some unknown emotion, it was a fire burning deep in them, seeming like it might jump out and swallow me whole. I kind of wanted that, for the fire in him to burn me up. What would it be like to be consumed like that? Would I cease to exist the second the fire’s put out? Or would I emerge a new person, a phoenix from the ashes?

     Z reached down, pulling me to my feet. “I can’t believe you feel that way.” He breathed out. “Because, damn, you make me feel almost the exact same way. You made me realize that I am not who this life made me become, you help me with that every day. Just with a smile or your snippy comments. Fuck, you make me so happy.”

     Without any warning his lips were pressed against mine the second he stopped talking. The kiss started slowly, a gentle pressure against my lips. Then it turned heated, his tongue slipping into my mouth to deepen the kiss, his hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer to him. A soft sigh escaped me when he finally broke from the kiss to take a breath, but he didn’t pause long, his lips went right to my neck not a few seconds later. My hands lifted up to thread through his hair, bringing his face back to mine. Our eyes met and I felt that connection I already had with him get stronger, pulling us closer together.

     “Take your shirt off.” I whispered, a faint blush rising to my cheeks.

***

     There was no hesitation from him as he yanked his shirt over his head, but then he smirked at me, giving me a heated look. I knew what he wanted- my shirt off as well. That was something I could do, the material slipped over my shoulders, leaving me in my bra and jeans. Then just like that we were once more attached at the mouth in a heated kiss. There was no real battle for dominance in this, just a sense of the two of us working in tandem. I was becoming impatient though, the fire boiling in my veins and pooling in my nether regions making me needy.

      My hand slid down his torso, coming to rest on his crotch, giving it a quick rub to which he bucked his hips in response. With that simple action, everything seemed to fast forward. One minute we were standing there making out with our shirts off, and the next we were both stripped naked laying haphazardly on the bed. His hands were exploring my body, squeezing, pinching and caressing, while his mouth made its own exploration with licks and bites. Of course I was going through the exact same exploration process with him, I wanted to know what made him tick. No, I needed to know what made him tick.

     With a particularly harsh pull of his erection, he let out a hiss, hips bucking up into my hand. “I need to know how far you want to take this… I don’t know how much more I can take.” Z grunted, his lips leaving my neck.

     I released his cock, my hands coming up to cup his face, making him look at me. “I want you. All of you. Right now.”

      All trepidation of this situation left him, and warmth filled my chest at his worry for me. Though that warmth soon disappeared as his fingers circled my clit, and one pumped inside me. A moan slipped from my throat at his ministrations. After the addition of a few more fingers, he determined I was ready. As he hovered over me, lining himself up with my wet heat, a look passed over his face. One that showed concern, happiness, and, I think, serenity. It was brief and quickly replaced once again by lust, but I knew what I’d seen.

     I cried out at his first thrust, hands clutching his shoulders desperately, willing myself to adjust quickly. “Move.” I panted out after a minute passed of him keeping still as a statue. Just like that the spell was broken, and Z began fucking me in earnest. His hips snapping into mine, driving me deeper into the mattress. Breathless moans were all I could manage at this point, with my head tossed back on the pillows, eyes half-lidded as I kept my gaze locked on his face. An assortment of grunts, groans and curses left him as he sped up, pounding harder and deeper into me.

     “F-Fuck! Right there!” I cry out as he hits my g-spot.

     He continues to fuck into me, hitting that one spot just as I asked, causing my orgasm to come crashing down on me without warning. My body quivers and shakes, muscles clenching around him as he continued to buck into me, trying to find his release. It didn’t take long either, not with the added constriction of my orgasm urging him on. Z shifted over so he was lying next to me, the sounds of our heavy breathing being the only things to fill the silence.

      My eyes shut instinctively as exhaustion washed over me. I hadn’t been taking proper care of myself recently, too focused on fixing Z’s situation. Sleep would be really good right now, and I had almost completely drifted off when I felt a cool, wet cloth on my body. I opened my eyes in irritation, upset that such beautiful sleep had been taken from me. But I couldn’t really be mad at him, he was just helping, trying to make me feel more comfortable.

     “Come on, let’s go to sleep.” He murmured after he put the cloth back into my bathroom, crawling into bed beside me. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me to his chest, and I knew then, I would have no trouble staying asleep. I nuzzled my head into his chest, letting his warmth envelope me, and promptly fell asleep. 

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Modern AU - Messy Bun, Ready For Fun

What is the up peoples? I hope everyone has been having a decent week. Here for your viewing pleasure is the next installment of my Modern AU. Thanks for stopping by my random corner of the internet! Enjoy :)

*Got a question about POV earlier so I thought I would attempt to assist in the reading experience. For this AU I’ve been exclusively starting from ‘his’ POV, it rotates back and forth between that same guys and you for the entirety of the  installment. (Everything in his POV is first person (I/we) while you are in second person (you).) I hope this helps some!!! As always YN= your name NN=nickname. 

Feel free to send any questions you may have my way! The box is always open and (if you couldn’t tell) I enjoy conversation. :) Story under the cut for organizational purposes and because I talked to much up here this time!

Giving a holler to @little-mini-me-world please enjoy the read!

(YUKIMURA)

It was the end of August and we had been in the future for just over three weeks. Thanks to the rainy season we were caught in an aggressive downpour that had taken up the past eight days. Today was our first dry afternoon so (YN) had been making trips to the store on her bike. She seemed to be stocking up for something, but I couldn’t be sure. The click of the door and the rustle of grocery bags let us know Sasuke and (YN) were back.

Originally Sasuke hadn’t wanted to leave Shingen, Kenshin, and myself alone with the Oda forces with only Mai to mediate, but the last time (YN) and Masamune went shopping alone a few weeks ago the food they came back with didn’t fit in the refrigerator…

“Hey dummy...watch what you’re doing. If you drop it all on the floor you’ll have to go back again. Though I’m not really sure you needed to go in the first place. There’s still plenty of food.”

She smiled as I handed her the bag of rice that had been falling from her arms.

“Thanks for the help Yuki! We’re stocking up for the storm, I’ve got one more trip and we should finally be finished.”

She had picked up calling me Yuki from Shingen and Sasuke and no amount of complaining seemed to get her to stop. All I could do was grimace and move on since Hideyoshi had started talking to her.

“You keep mentioning a storm but the weather outside is fine enough. It’s gray and sticky but that alone doesn’t warrant weather dangerous enough to consider stockpiling food.”

As much as I hated to admit it he was right, it was downright gross outside, and we had taken to swimming in the pool during that day since it wasn’t thundering. Over the past few weeks Sasuke had been taking us to a few of the major points of interest in Kamakura, but it was usually too muggy outside to get more than one sight-seeing opportunity done at a time.

Walking to the TV she turned it on and clicked through a couple of stations. There was a man standing in front of a map with a giant white swirling mass moving for land. Silence, then she laughed at us.

“You guys probably haven’t seen what Japan actually looks like on a map, but there she is.”

She was pointing at the landmass on the television. Is that really it? It’s smaller than I imagined it would be.

My train of thought was broken by her continued explanation.

“This is the weather channel...Sasuke have you not showed them this yet?”

He turned to her after putting the carrots in the fridge.

“No, I didn’t think it was necessary since I was checking the weather myself.”

She looked dumbfounded I guess it didn’t occur to her we wouldn’t have been shown this already. I decided to speak up. Maybe she’d explain it then.

“If you leave your mouth open like that you’ll catch bugs...What does this have to do with stocking up on food?”

Snapping her mouth shut, her forehead crinkled as she turned, looking at me with doe eyes.

“Oh, well, like I said earlier, this is the weather channel. They use all kinds of science and luck to predict what’s going to happen outside.”

“Luck?” Mitsuhide verbalized our confusion to which Mai laughed. Apparently something about that was funny?

“Ah well they have all sorts of...equipment...to get moving pictures of the weather. They use math, science, and models to infer what it’s going to do...but since the algorithms are just helping them get predictions it usually takes a bit of luck to get it correct.”

She was pointing at the screen again.

“This moving photo of sorts is called radar. They use it to tell us what there calculations have forecast. It’s simultaneously more and less accurate than a rain dance or intuition. Hells why is this so hard to explain.”

I couldn’t help myself, I laughed. Her face was cute trying to figure out how to describe yet another future thing to us. It looked like it did the night she tried to rationalize light bulbs and electricity.

“We believe you weirdo, don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”

“Yuki! That is not how you talk to a lady!”

“Oh yea? It’s better than how you talk to ladies Shingen.”

…

The usual bickering between Yukimura and Shingen had picked up right in the middle of your crap explanation of the weather channel. Giving up, you meandered back over to the kitchen to help Sasuke put food away, when he leaned over.

“That’s precisely why I didn’t show them the weather channel.”

“Oh? You were afraid of Yuki and Shingen arguing? It had nothing to do with you not wanting to explain it after the light bulb fiasco?”

You could tell by the look on his face he was formulating a rebuttal and you needed to shut that down fast, otherwise you would never be able to make one last trip to the store. Yelling from your place in the kitchen.

“All you boys need to know is that the multicolored swirling blob of doom is a big ass storm, and it’s headed our way. We definitely aren’t going outside for at least two days so we may as well have enough food.”

Sasuke expelled air from his nose loud enough that you could tell that your comment had garnered a laugh and successfully ended the discussion.

“That is the least eloquent way you could have put that...multicolored blob? Doom? Really?”

“Really. You should be thanking me, I could have used the word kaleidoscopic but didn’t see that ending any better differently.”

“Ah, yes, how gracious of you....”

“Well aren’t you sassy today.”  With a slight eye roll he walked away from you to finish explaining the new can of worms you had opened.

Since this final trip to the store was for snacky foods you had decided to go by yourself. That way ‘if you couldn’t fit it in your backpack you shouldn’t be getting it’...a good control mechanism really. It was going to be interesting. It was ‘only’ a category one. If you consider 125 km/hour winds a good use of the word ‘only. This wasn’t your first rodeo and it would be unfair to assume they had never experienced storms like this in the Sengoku...honestly they had probably experienced or seen worse just based on how much building code has changed since then. The beach house you were in was fully equipped for both typhoons and earthquakes so it was a no brainer that you’d stay there, but out of consideration for everyone’s safety, nobody was going to be able to sleep in the loft...so night time arrangements were going to get interesting.

It wasn’t until a store worker approached and started speaking in broken English that you realised you probably looked like a confused tourist trying to figure out which chips were the safest to eat. Bowing in apology you grabbed the last of your groceries, paid, and exited the store, making a mental list of all of the prep you were going to have to do before Sunday when the storm was supposed to make landfall.

…

We had been busy helping (YN) get things ready for when the storm was supposed to hit. Stacking all the chairs outside and putting them in the storage room near the back of the house, along with all of the other pool equipment and patio furniture. You could see other houses starting to put up shutters on the windows around town, while ours and a few others didn’t seem to have them.

“Hey! Should I be concerned we only put wood on one of the windows?”

“Oh, not really. When my parents built the house they put in hurricane glass and storm doors everywhere. The only thing I have to cover is this window in the loft...”

“Ok...but what does a hurricane have to do with a typhoon?”

She laughed and Sasuke cut in.

“You’ll have to forgive her. In the country she’s from they call typhoons ‘hurricanes.’ So she was saying the house has already been fortified for the storm.”

“Fair. Sasuke tell me if I’m wrong, but does what she just said mean that everything is safe except where we’re sleeping?”

“Correct.”

“That’s not reassuring at all…”

(YN) jumped down from the ladder she was on, landing just a ways off from us. She jogged over.

“To be fair, you didn’t ask him to reassure you. Just answer your questions”

Man, these two are exasperating. It’s like they’re trying to make my life more difficult. (YN) had somehow managed to make Sasuke emote, apparently he found what she just said funny. I’m convinced she’s using some sort of futuristic witchcraft on him.

“Fine, then can I get some reassurance?”

Both turning to me in unison.

“Probably not.”

The next morning had started off beautifully, the sky was a bright and clear blue, but as the hours passed it grew progressively cloudy, tinting everything a dull slate gray. The air was so thick I was pretty sure I could cut it with a knife, and the calm ocean breeze I was enjoying this morning had progressed into more of a vengeful gust. The only real positive was that when (YN) came back from practice in the evening her hair was hysterical. As she passed down the hall Masamune roared with laughter at the site of her and I couldn’t hold my comment in anymore.

“What happened to you? Your hair is ridiculous...ever heard of a comb?”

She deadpanned. Crap.

“Couldn’t help it...the wind demanded a sacrifice and who am I to deny it?”

What the hell? How am I even supposed to reply to that. I was starting to get flustered, and it didn’t help that Mitsuhide and Masamune were basically rolling on the floor at her response. I tried to hide my frustration with a huff.

“Weirdo…”

All she did was smile.

“Yea, well this weirdo is going to take a shower. Have you guys moved your futons yet?”

The new sleeping arrangement wasn’t ideal but at least it was only for a day or so. Hideyoshi would be moving into the room with Nobunaga and Mai, using the futon in there, I was switching into the space Hideyoshi had been utilizing in the large tatami room, while Sasuke, Shingen and Kenshin were sleeping in (YN)’s room. Shingen would put his futon on the other side of the couch, while Sasuke and Kenshin were going to try to share the pull out bed. Try, being the optimal word. Definitely happy I’m not in there to deal with that.

Dinner had been quick and for how the trees seemed to be bending outside it was eerily quiet. I was amazed you couldn’t hear the wind whistling like I was used to in the structures from our time. Everyone was moving about at their own pace but the lights flickered, shutting off briefly before buzzing to life again, giving up on the night the group of us made for the bedrooms. Guess we would just sleep through this thing.

…

The storm was sticking around much longer than predicted and everyone was starting to get a little stir crazy. It had been about four days since anyone had left the house, even you couldn’t get out to make your practices. Fortunately you had enough equipment to workout from home so you weren’t missing too much.

You had just stepped out of the shower. Clean, dressed, and hair brushed all the way through, opening the door into the hallway you noticed them right away. While it was normal for a few of the warlords to be seen standing in the hall either waiting to shower, or just conversing with one another; you never expected to see the entire group of them crowded around your doorway shouting. Standing at the back of the pack, a worried Mai explained that Kenshin and Shingen had gotten in a spat about beds, Yukimura and Sasuke, in an attempt to moderate, had been pulled into it. The company parted and you walked into your room to see Shingen wielding one of your belts like a whip, Kenshin was standing on the pull out couch swinging around a desk lamp, Yukimura was just standing there yelling at Kenshin waving a couch pillow around, and Sasuke had made makeshift projectiles out of your collection of bobby-pins and hair ties and was slinging them at his comrades.

Marching yourself right into the fray you simultaneously grabbed your belt and the pillow from Shingen’s and Yukimura’s hands, twisting them from their grip, as you stepped onto the bed to look Kenshin square in the face.

“Put. It. Down. Now.”

He blinked, the whole room still around you. Perturbed, Kenshin put the lamp down as you started scolding them.

“What in seven hells did you boys think you were doing? Actually no...dumb question, I don’t want to know…”

They tried to get a word in.

“But…”

“No, no buts...I don’t want to know what you thought any of that would accomplish...I just want to know what possessed you to start swinging around my belongings like a bunch of crazed imbeciles?”

Yukimura shot a sympathetic yet mildly annoyed glance your way.

“They were arguing over sleeping arrangements.”

“Sleeping arrangements? This is over sleeping arrangement? Jesus…”

You were so peeved you could feel yourself slipping back into your native language, realizing two things at once you stopped and took a deep breath.

“Kenshin, bed. Shingen, futon. Sasuke...you have two options, share with me or put your futon next to my bed...either way it’s a tight fit. Everyone else, disperse.”

You slid the door shut and grabbed your headphones climbing into bed making sure to leave room for Sasuke if he decided to join you. Maybe you’d make everyone train with you in the living space tomorrow...get rid of some that energy…

Not to much later the mattress shifted under new weight, pulling you from the light sleep you had been getting. Opening your eyes you turned to see Sasuke making his way into the space you had left for him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“ ‘s okay.” To tired to formulate complete sentences. You scooted over giving him more access to your pillow and took your headphones off to sleep on your side easier.

“This reminds me of our first weekend in college.”

You smiled at his comment. Your very first weekend a group of you had gone out to a welcome party and you may have gone a lot overboard with the Jungle Juice. Sasuke, gratefully, assisted you back to what he thought was your room in his drunken state. Which ended up being his room, only to walk into his room mates arguing over their bunks. Minus the flying furniture and inebriation, it played out almost identically. You had thrown out orders to each guy assigning them beds and declared you would be sharing with Sasuke.

“I still wonder to this day how I was able to get away with that.”

“It’s because you’re you (NN).”

He shared his gentlest smile before you fell into peaceful oblivion.

…

I woke up the next morning to a steady tapping. Seeing I wasn’t the only one awake I asked the group in the room.

“Does anyone else hear that?”

Everyone but Mitsunari, who was nose deep in a book (YN) had brought him the other day, looked at me and nodded.

“Now that you mention it, there is an impressively constant tapping, should we go ask around and see what the others think?”

Masamune had posed the question to the group as he made his way out the door. As it turned out Nobunaga, Mai, and Hideyoshi had woken to the soft tapping as well.  When we got closer to the steps you could hear it get louder but now the sound was followed by a soft thump. At the exact moment Kenshin flung the door open right beside the group.

“What is that woman doing up there?”

“You mean (YN)?” I asked

“What other woman would I be talking about? Yes her. She and Sasuke were up early this morning then they went upstairs together. Not to long after this infernal tapping started.”

Now I was curious. Seeing as the rest of the group shared my sentiment we walked upstairs. Mitsuhide chimed in from the back.

“That’s quite the rhythm, I hope we’re not interrupting anything”

What could we possibly be interrupting…? As if reading my thoughts he continued.

“I would hate to walk in on something inappropriate.”

Inappropriate. What could they be doing that would beeeeh….holy hell. We need to stop! Why are we going in there? What if they’re….

Breaking my thoughts completely a breathless and breathtaking (YN) walked over smiling. This was not looking good...she was in the shortest, tightest pants I had ever seen, her midsection completely barred, no sleeves...I’m not even sure you could consider the top she had on a shirt...her hair was tangled in a bun on top of her head and she was dripping with sweat.

Shit! At least she doesn’t look mad...I was trying to sneak away when she spoke up again.

“You guys all come up to join in on our morning fun?”

“JOIN!” I couldn’t help it I just screamed completely flustered.

Shingen clutched my shoulder and laughed surmising what was going through my head. Before I could run he was volunteering us to join in.

“Of course we would princess.”

…

“Ok so we’re going to have to move in circuits.. you can group off however you want...you’re eventually going to do everything so it doesn’t matter where you start.”

You accidentally woke everyone up with your jump rope this morning, but you were sure somebody had said something to frey Yukimura’s nerves, the poor guy had been unable to do anything other than blush or snap at you since you walked over. On top of that, Shingen had voluntold everyone to work out, so you were reworking Sasuke and your morning routine to accommodate.

You demonstrated all of the exercises they were going to do before heading over to finish your pair work with Sasuke. Today it was quick cardio so you were boxing. No head shots and nothing below the belt, just enough to get your heart rate up and engage your reflexes. While you were doing that, the group circuit work would move as follows:

Group 1: Abs

30 Russian twists

15 v-ups

20 windshield wipers

1 min plank

Group 2: Arms

20 push ups

15 pull ups (using the dangerous door frame apparatus)

1 min cherry pickers

Group 3: legs

50 squat jumps

25 hip thrusts

45 sec kettle-bell swings

With each person doing every exercise three times before moving onto the next grouping. It would take about 45 minutes to complete then they would move onto cardio. Which was 5 minutes of jump rope then they split off into pairs for boxing...same rules applied. The only oddity being Sasuke and yourself would jump back into the boxing so Mai didn’t have to try to fight one of the warlords. Then maybe you’d have a tournament?

“Are you sure you’re a group of battle hardened Samurai? Those are the saddest squat jumps I have ever seen…”

Yukimura and Ieyasu mad sour faces at my comment. Though it wasn’t just those two struggling...maybe it had to do with the compound movements? ….four weeks without battle shouldn’t be enough time to completely fall into oblivion like this, plus Sasuke had taken them to a dojo a hand full of times just to keep them moving. At least they’ll all sleep well tonight.

“Finished!!” Mai exclaimed. She was beaming.

“What? You cheated! Lass, she clearly cheated!” Masamune howled

“Eh, I doubt it.” Whispering so only Mai could hear me. “We talked, and you’re going to be paired with Sasuke. He’ll teach you the basics and I’ll get to fight one of the boys. It’s a win-win.”

“Sure! Sounds good” she giggled and skipped over to Sasuke to start jumping rope.

“Why’re you making such a weird face? I don’t think I like that look.” Yukimura was still clearly frazzled as he continued to avoid eye contact.

Everyone tried their best with the jump rope. Some, specifically Mitsuhide, Nobunaga, and Hideyoshi were naturals. Others like Ieyasu, Shingen, and Mitsunari got the hang of it after a few tries. While Masamune, Yukimura, and Kenshin struggle bussed it the entire five minutes.

Next was the fun part. You let everyone pick their own partners Mitsuhide & Hideyoshi, Mitsunari & Ieyasu, Kenshin & Shingen, Masamune & Nobunaga, leaving Yukimura & you.

“What? Absolutely not, I’m not fighting crazy over there? Sasuke why aren’t you with me?”

“You said it yourself, she crazy.” He looked your way and a mischief flickering in his eyes. “We couldn’t possibly pair Mai with her, and it wouldn’t help you train if Mai was with you. So this is the only logical solution. Now even the princess can get some fighting in.”

Yukimura let out an exasperated sigh “Fine but don’t think I’ll go easy on you…”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Bring it Yuki.”

Round one was taken by Mitsuhide, Ieyasu, Nobunaga, Kenshin, Sasuke, and yourself. So the new pairings were Mitsuhide & Nobunaga, Kenshin & Sasuke, and Ieyasu and you.

Round two was full of surprises with the winners being Mitsuhide, Kenshin, and You. Pitting Kenshin & Mitsuhide and Masamune, who had won the losers bracket, with you.

Eventually you lost to Kenshin who swept ranks. It was much harder to fight the God of War outside of bedroom scuffles or crowded market streets, but it had been a fun afternoon nonetheless. You’d have a few bruises here and there from some stray excited punches but everyone had held back brilliantly and there were no injuries to report on any front. Turning to the now silent group.

“So who wants lunch?”