#this is the tub i keep most of my art supplies in :-)) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

preppernewstoday · 2 years

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(Psst: The FTC wants me to remind you that this website contains affiliate links. That means if you make a purchase from a link you click on, I might receive a small commission. This does not increase the price you'll pay for that item nor does it decrease the awesomeness of the item. ~ Daisy)So you’ve purchased our Mushroom Cultivation course, harvested a few yum-yums, and would like to delve deeper into the fine art of mushroom cultivation. You may have noticed that liquid culture (LC) runs anywhere from $15-$30 per 10 mL syringe, and the cost adds up! Fear not, and read on! In this article, I’ll discuss what I’ve learned about monotubs and Martha tents and instructions for making your own master cultures. First, monotubs. Contrary to the YouTube videos, these have a few finer points of their own. Whether you made your own or purchased a kit, you’ll need to replace filters from time to time. Some stores will sell the 2” filters that I need by the sheet, 6 per sheet. However, my monotub needs 8! There are a couple of options, the obvious one being to buy more than one sheet. Northspore will sell me one sheet of six for $8, which is $0.75/per filter. I purchased 24 3” filters on eBay for $38, which is $0.63/filter, and I can cut them to size. I can also use double-sided tape since these aren’t self-adhesive. In a pinch, I’ve used coffee filters, which are free since they’ve sat in my cupboard for a few years. I’m a tea woman and purchased these for a friend’s visit many years ago. Repurposing what I have is cheaper than buying. Remember: the purpose of the filter is to allow air in while keeping contaminants out. Coffee filters are a pretty tight weave and will work in a pinch. I prefer the synthetic filters because they’re a bit more sturdy, as in my cats won’t punch holes in them during exploration. This is good. Another thing to be aware of is when to case the substrate and with what. The first time I did this, I jumped the gun and used Miracle-Gro potting mix. This resulted in the mycelium dying back without fruiting. Miracle-Gro tends to add things to their mixes that aren’t always good for exotics. In the carnivorous plant community, their sphagnum moss is known for its death-inducing qualities. Most people use coco coir for mushroom casing, which can be a bit expensive but is also reusable. I bought mine from a mushroom supply store because I couldn’t be sure that other sellers didn’t include additives. It’s also important to wait until the tub is fully colonized, showing a full white mat on top before casing. Not a spot of white here and there, but rather a full layer of mycelial mat. Casing prematurely is part of what cost me my second crop, the Miracle-Gro being the other part. So be patient and choose your casing medium carefully! Last but not least of my lessons: be careful of the substrate temperature when you inoculate. Use either a soil thermometer or a thermogun to check that the temperature is around 70F. Too hot will kill the mycelium, and hands aren’t necessarily the best way to test this. Just because you can handle the substrate without incurring 3rd-degree burns doesn’t mean the fungus will be happy! Learning this cost me my first monotub crop. I now have my third in place, which is colonizing nicely. I used spawn bags that I had handy, so that saved me some money. Oyster species grow well in monotubs, as well as chestnuts and namekos. Wine caps and piopinnos, MAYBE. On to master cultures! As I noted above, LC can really add up in cost. Yes, it goes a long way, but why keep buying when you can make your own master cultures? This is a bit of an investment upfront, but it’ll pay off in the long run. You’ll need: Test tubes, preferably autoclavable and 15 mL, like these. You’ll want the rack and the caps if you choose a different product. PDA or malt agar. Note that PDA comes in both agar and broth forms. Agar is for plates and slants; broth is for making LC. You can buy pre-poured plates, which I’ve done.

Amazon sells them for $2.60 per unit, Northspore’s are $2.20 per. My homemade plates are $0.34 + $0.55/plate = $0.89 each. This is the brew I use. A wash bottle will make life much easier. Pouring from these is much less messy, but be aware that the agar will gel very, very quickly and clog the bottle. If you’re making slants, I would tip the test tubes to the proper angle while pouring. A slant is used to give the fungi a good surface area to live on while reducing the possibility of contamination. They’ll last in your fridge for about one year. Some say longer. Basically, as long as the fungi have nutrients, they’ll be fine, but you will need to make new cultures from time to time. These are the wash bottles I use. Some way to measure in grams. A food scale works nicely. I use my pressure canner and a handy jar to sterilize the nutrients according to the instructions on the bottle. It’s really very easy, so don’t let your mind make it harder than it is! I pour my plates and slants as soon as the canner cools enough for opening. This is because the hot agar will act to negate contamination as well as being easy to pour. Use gloves, though! As I’ve said, it’ll be very hot. The recipe amounts will be given for 1 liter of water. I’ve found that making 1/4 of the recipe fills about 35 tubes. You’ll want to fill the tubes about halfway for a slant. If you’re using the broth for LC, then fill it to about 10 mL. Yes, your bags will colonize with as little as 1-2 mL, but it’ll take longer and increase your chances for contamination. If, by chance, you don’t pour quickly enough and your tubes have gelled before you set them at the angle for making slants, there is hope! You can re-gel your agar in the microwave. Use a defrost setting, remove the caps from the tubes unless high-speed projectiles are your thing, and go slowly in 5-10 minute increments. You’ll lose some agar, and your slants won’t be as pretty, but you’ll have learned a good lesson. DO NOT try to put these through another cycle in your pressure canner or run your batch longer than the time given in the instructions. Doing so will hydrolyze the gelling component in the agar, and it’ll gel no longer. Thankfully I learned this last part the easy way, through research. Inoculating your tubes/plates is also pretty easy. Remember your aseptic technique and sterilize EVERYTHING. Wipe surfaces, tubes, and your hands with standard isopropyl alcohol. Wearing gloves is good too, and don’t forget to sanitize them! Hint: make your labels in advance and have them ready to apply. If you’re doing several species, you’ll never remember which tube is which, so do one species at a time and label immediately. Labels should have both common and taxonomic names and dates of inoculation. Yes, you can write on the tubes, but I find labels more readable. I also inoculate four tubes per species, two each of broth and agar slant. You’ll be able to see colonization in a week or two. You can use the broth to inoculate both grain and sawdust blocks. This can be done inside of a still air box, but honestly, the way we did it in undergrad lab didn’t require that and worked quite well. Once you’ve wiped everything down, assemble your needle. Commercial LCs come with a needle, so unscrew the black cap at the bottom of the tube and screw the needle on. Remove the cover from the needle, wipe or spritz with alcohol, and flame the end with a lighter until it’s red-hot. Rest that red-hot end in the agar or broth for a few seconds, so you don’t kill the fungi that are leaving the tube through that opening, then depress the plunger. I dispense 1-2 mL of LC, whether it’s plate or tube. If you’re making plates, raise the lid only enough to slip the needle into the dish and no more. In both cases, cover right away. An alcohol wipe won’t hurt, either. Plates and tubes can be sealed with parafilm to further discourage contamination. Not cheap stuff, but tossing contaminated items is far more painful! Also, disinfect between species. Between tubes isn’t a bad idea either.

If you’d like a step-by-step on aseptic technique and inoculation, look here. This is pretty much the way we did it in undergrad lab. The only real differences here are lighter rather than Bunson burner and needle vs. inoculation loop. Lastly, a few gems on Martha tents. When I set mine up, I opted to use the lower shelf struts as supports rather than using them on top to make a shelf for the fan. This has worked out well somewhat, although I’ve had to use rubber belts with S hooks to give the fan more support. The plastic of the tent, even with the heavy packing tape I tried, worked for a while, but eventually, the vibration of the fan was simply too much, and more support was required. The other option, of course, is to use those lower struts to make a top shelf for the fan and stabilize the tent another way. Mine is stuck between a wall and my monotub, so that was an option. I went through some time when just about everything in my Martha tent was becoming contaminated. Tossing eight bags of substrate and a number of grain jars was really frustrating, so I did some research in my Stamets’ book. It seems that too much humidity will give green molds an edge over the fungi, so I ended up setting my humidity level to 75% with a 5-degree variance. This helped, but I was still having problems. The Stamets’ book suggested placing an uninoculated Petri dish in the area in question. If the dish grew mold, then the infection was endemic to the environment. Sure enough, my dish turned green in about a week. I pulled everything out and bleached all surfaces, including shelves, struts, and the plastic itself. I’ve been doing this on a regular basis. Problem solved. I wrote more about Martha tents here. (Want uninterrupted access to The Organic Prepper? Check out our paid-subscription newsletter.) Have you made your own mushroom master cultures? Have you tried our mushroom course? Do you have any tips to share or questions you’d like answered? Let us know in the comments below! About Amy Allen Amy Allen is a professional bookworm and student of Life, the Universe, and Everything. She’s also a Master Gardener with a BS in biology, and has been growing food on her small urban lot since 2010.

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merymoonbeam · 2 years

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Roses? Bread?

In Hosab Azriel carried Bryce to a house and we had this scene.

He gave no warning as he hauled her over a shoulder and tromped down a set of stairs before entering somewhere … nice-smelling. Roses? Bread? They ate bread in Hel? Had flowers? A dark, cold world, the Asteri had said in their notes on the planet.

We know it is town house. Here is the post that explains it. > Town House

And from Acosf we know that it was supposed to be empty.

“But why live in this dump, when the town house was sitting empty?” (Acosf)

But from bryce’s pov we can see that it looks like somebody is living there.

So let’s talk about why “Roses? Bread?” is about Elain.

We are first going to talk about the town house-elain connection to it.

When feyre first arrived at town house she always mentioned the garden.

“Nuala and Cerridwen opened a door, leading to a fire-warmed, sunlit room. It faced a walled, winter-kissed garden in the back of the town house, the large windows peering over the sleeping stone fountain in its center, drained for the season.”

“Nuala headed for the small attached bathing room—white marble, a claw-foot tub, more sunny windows that overlooked the garden wall and the thick line of cypress trees that stood watch behind it.”

“I took in the clothes, then the room, then the winter garden and the slumbering fountain beyond, and Rhysand’s earlier words clicked into place.”

“A city—a lovely one, if the sounds from my window, the garden beyond it, were any indication—lay all around me.”

And that chapter is the first time Elain’s name mentioned in acomaf—the same chapter Feyre arrived at the Town House. It is about how Elain wanted to go to cities on the continent because they were “full of art, and learning and trade”

“There were no cities left in our mortal territory. Though some had sprung up on the main continent, full of art and learning and trade. Elain had once wanted to go with me. I didn’t suppose I’d ever get that chance now.”

Elain wanted to go to cities on the main continent—full of art and learning and trade.

Let’s look at Velaris.

We all know Velaris is known for artists’ quarters—Rainbow of Velaris.

“Rhys said, “This is what Velaris is known for: the artists’ quarter. You’ll find a hundred galleries, supply stores, potters’ compounds, sculpture gardens, and anything in between. They call it the Rainbow of Velaris. The performing artists—the musicians, the dancers, the actors—dwell on that hill right across the Sidra. You see the bit of gold glinting near the top? That’s one of the main theaters. There are five notable ones in the city, but that’s the most famous. And then there are the smaller theaters, and the amphitheater on the sea cliffs … ” He trailed off as he noticed my gaze drifting back to the assortment of bright buildings ahead.”

And there is also trade in Velaris.

“The owner—a slim, dark-skinned female with lovely brown eyes—was standing behind my chair, chatting with Rhys about the latest shipment of spices that had come to the Palaces. “The traders were saying the prices might rise, High Lord, especially if rumors about Hybern awakening are correct.”

“There was a time when the Night Court was a Court of Nightmares and was ruled from the Hewn City. Long ago. But an ancient High Lord had a different vision, and rather than allowing the world to see his territory vulnerable at a time of change, he sealed the borders and staged a coup, eliminating the worst of the courtiers and predators, building Velaris for the dreamers, establishing trade and peace.”

Lastly learning. It is a new city for her—new world. Full of new information. Feyre is learning new things while they are walking on the streets. (I will add to this later in the post... keep your eyes on it 👀👀)

“Rhysand kept a few steps away, hands in his pockets as he offered bits of information every now and then.”

So was it a coincidence that Elain’s name’s first mention in acomaf is in that chapter and it is about how she wants to go to continent because it is full of art, trade and learning... and Velaris has all those things 👀

And let’s not forget...in acosf Nesta said this.

“Elain, mourn as she might for the life she would have had with Graysen, had found a place, a role here. Tending to the gardens of Feyre’s veritable palace on the river, helping other residents of Velaris restore their own destroyed gardens—she had purpose, and joy, and friends: those two half-wraiths who worked in Rhysand’s household.”

Okay turning back to town house gardens...

A chapter after feyre notices the garden in the Town House she thought this.

“Buttery sunlight that softened the already mild winter day, a small, manicured front lawn—its dried grass near-white—bordered with a waist-high wrought iron fence and empty flower beds, all leading toward a clean street of pale cobblestones.”

Town houses flower beds are empty. Nobody is tending the gardens. But... in acowar we have this.

Cassian’s dark brows narrowed. I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.”

Elain planted herbs in the garden. She started to tend the garden of Town House.

Also when she first arrives at the Town House Azriel literally carrying her bridal style into the house. And they go to garden.

Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

Is this a foreshadowing for them? Is Elain living there and Azriel carrying her bridal style is foreshadowing of what’s to come? 👀

Okay, now that’s explained we continue with the “Roses? Bread?” part.

Elain’s always been connected with rose.

I slung off my outer clothes onto the sagging dresser—frowning at the violets and roses I’d painted around the knobs of Elain’s drawer,(Acotar)

“I started on the third. “I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ” The arrow clattered to the ground and I ripped out the other end.” (Acomaf)

“Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all of those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon … She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses.” (Acowar)

She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers. (Acosf)

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

And the bread part.

Elain stood between Nuala and Cerridwen at the long worktable. All three of them covered in flour. Some sort of doughy mess on the surface before them. The two handmaiden-spies instantly bowed to Rhys, and Elain—. There was a slight sparkle in her brown eyes. As if she’d been enjoying herself with them. Nuala swallowed hard. “The lady said she was hungry, so we went to make her something. But—she said she wanted to learn how, so …” Hands wreathed in shadows lifted in a helpless gesture, flour drifting off them like veils of snow. “We’re making bread.” Elain was glancing between all of us, and as her eyes began to shutter, I gave her a broad smile and said, “I hope it’ll be done soon—I’m starved.” Elain offered a faint smile in return and nodded. She was hungry. She was … doing something. Learning something.”

We all know how elain was after Cauldron. She was lifeless. But this is the first time we see her enjoying herself. She is making bread with Nuala and Cerridwen.

But I think the important part is the last part “She was hungry. She was … doing something. Learning something.” She is learning something... also I think it is important to add that sarah wrote learning in “learning something” in italics 👀

and when I was talking about Elain and Town house connection above I talked about how Elain’s name’s first mention in acomaf is when Feyre arrived at the Town House and it was about how she wanted to go to continent because the cities were “full of art and learning and trade.” As you can see Elain is learning something. She is learning how to bake bread.

“Breathed in the smell of the bread Nuala and Cerridwen had baked that morning with Elain.”(acowar)

“Elain straightened from the piping-hot loaves of bread she’d hauled from the oven, her hair half up, the apron over her rose-pink gown dusted with flour.”

in the second quote it is used for color but she is literally wearing a rose-pink gown while hauling bread from the oven...

Sooo...

Roses? Bread? ANYONE? 🌹🍞

#elriel #elain archeron #roses bread #roses?bread?#town house

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ronance4everbrainrot · 2 years

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Stranger things incorrect quote generator (feat. Dustin and his Dads, the Sapphic Senate and The Party)

Pt 9

Dustin and his Dads

Dustin: But what about Steve?

Eddie: Don't worry about them.

Eddie: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their hotdog like nothing happened.

(He doesn't feel pain anymore)

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Steve: Eddie just said "I have an appetite for destruction" and then they reached down and untied my shoe.

(I feel like Eddie would say that)

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Eddie: Hey, Dustin. Why did the chicken cross the road?

Dustin: To get to the other side?

Eddie: You were supposed to say “I dunno, why?“

Dustin: Uh... fine. I don’t know. Why did it cross the road?

Eddie: To get to the idiot’s house.

Dustin: ...Ok?

Steve: Hey, Dustin. Knock knock.

Dustin: No.

Steve: You were supposed to say “who’s there?”

Dustin: Fine... let’s get this over with. Who’s there?

Steve: The chicken.

Dustin:

Steve:

Eddie:

Dustin: Listen here you little shits-

(he's so done with them)

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Eddie: I am a responsible adult!

Dustin: *raises brow*

Eddie: I am an adult.

(you'll get there one day, Eddie)

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Eddie: I lost Dustin.

Steve: How did you LOSE Dustin?!

Eddie: To be fair, they are very small.

(I mean you are giants, so I'm not surprised)

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Steve: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me.

Eddie: But they said not to touch the masterpieces.

Steve: Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall.

Dustin, on a walkie talkie: This is Dustin, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

(He is double done with them, him and Max complain about these things to each other)

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Steve: Two brooooos!

Eddie: Chillin' in a hot tub!

Steve: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay!

Eddie:

Steve:

Eddie: *tearing up*

Steve: Babe, c'mon...

Eddie: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING.

Steve: Babe...

(How could you, Steve 😭)

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Steve: Do you ever feel bugs on you when really there’s nothing there?

Eddie: Those are the ghosts of the bugs you killed before.

Steve:

Steve: *sobs*

Dustin: You fucking scared them, you idiot.

(nah, cause why the fuck does it feel like that 😪)

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Steve: *double checking supplies in the boat* Compass. CB radio. Sunscreen.

Dustin: Hot dog costumes!

Steve: I’m sorry, what?

Dustin: You know, in case we get lost at sea, and one of us, probably Eddie, goes mad with hunger, we’ll put these on. Eddie hates hot dogs, so they probably won’t eat us.

Steve: Are you saying that Eddie would rather eat us than hot dogs?

Eddie: I do hate hot dogs.

(He definitely said Steve looked delicious, at one point in his life)

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Eddie: I wish I had more enemies.

Steve: I’m sure you will someday, honey.

(S4 who?)

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Dustin: So what’s the plan?

Steve: I don’t know. You’re smart, *points at Eddie* they’re mean, come up with something.

(Why does Dustin even try)

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Dustin: I’m telling you, my team is competent.

Eddie, rushing in: Dustin! Steve tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

(not the coffee pot ☹️😔)

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Steve: This is horrible! This is the most humiliating thing to ever happen to me!

Eddie: Oh-? Even more humiliating than-

Steve: We are not doing this!

(That's probably why he called Eddie mean)

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Dustin: Go ahead, Steve. Let it out, cry. If you don't, your tear ducts will get blocked up, and then when you get old, you won't be able to cry.

Eddie: Just when we thought it was safe to let you back into the conversation.

(probably while Steve was having a 'realizing he's bi' crisis)

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Eddie: I have locked Steve in a cage designed by their own art. Oh, they have been well and truly hoist by their own petard.

Dustin: Could you put it another way? I didn’t understand a word of that.

Eddie: I’m blackmailing them.

Dustin: Oh, happy days.

(🎶oh happy day🎶)

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Eddie: The first time I ever got upset in front of Steve, they put their arms around me and it was so awkward that I had to ask them if they were hugging me or reaching for something on the shelf behind me.

Steve: I was doing both, for your information.

Dustin: The first time Steve hugged me, it was such a disaster we didn’t make eye contact for, like, a week after.

(Canon? yes?.. Yes)

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*Dustin recording whilst Eddie and Steve are arguing*

Eddie: HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP!! HER SISTER WAS A WITCH, RIGHT? AND WHAT WAS HER SISTER? A PRINCESS! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST, BRO!

Dustin: *wheezes like a tea kettle*

Steve, pulling out a knife: I'm gonna stab them.

Eddie: YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG? AM I WRONG?

Steve: It's my favorite movi-

Eddie: SHE WORE A CROWN AND SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE, STEVE!

Steve: I'm not fighting with you, I'm not fighting with y-

Eddie: GROW UP, BRO. GROW UP!

(I don't think this it that fitting, but love it, I feel like Argyle would fit better)

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*Steve is telling a story*

Eddie: Wow, Steve, this story has everything! Action! Adventure! Romance!

Dustin: Romance?

Eddie: I have a crush on them.

(This quote never gets old)

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[Sapphic Senate]

Robin: What is love?

Vickie: An emotional minefield.

Nancy: A neurochemical reaction.

Chrissy: Baby don't hurt me.

(don't hurt me, no more 😔🎶)

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*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*

Chrissy: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.

Vickie: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Nancy: if you want information it is

Robin: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?

(Robin is so right)

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Nancy, texting in the group chat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like?

Vickie: *Sends a picture of of a syringe with an apple slice shoddily edited inside*

Robin: *Sends a picture of a shot glass with an Apple poorly drawn inside*

Chrissy: *Sends picture of person dunking a Basketball into the hoop but replaced the basketball with a poorly resized apple*

Nancy: I hate all of you.

(what did Nancy expect)

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*Everyone is playing a board game together*

Robin: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'.

Chrissy: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'.

Vickie: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'.

Nancy: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'.

Vickie: *flips the board*

(I feel like I already had this one)

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Nancy: You have friends and I envy that.

Robin: You're welcome to share my friends.

Nancy: *looks at Vickie and Chrissy*

Nancy: I don't want those.

(well you're out of luck Nance)

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Chrissy: Words ending in 'ie' just sound so adorable. Like cutie, sweetie, cookie-

Vickie: Eyy, homie!

Robin: But then there's cootie...

Nancy: Die.

(at first I thought the last person said die to the person before)

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Nancy , at Robin's funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Nancy , leaning over Robin′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

Robin: Yeah, no shit.

(well I wanna know what happened that it led to this situation)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Vickie: I can't believe you've done this.....

Robin: I'm sorry I didn't know-!

Vickie, on the verge of tears: YOU CAN'T JUST BUY ME A GIFT OUT OF NOWHERE NOW I FEEL LIKE A HUGE ASSHOLE!

(First time Vickie is drunk?)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Robin: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

(Eddie and her bonding over that)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Robin, trying their first ever cup of coffee: I am ENERGY!

Vickie, an avid coffee drinker, on their twelfth cup of the day: Someone slap me awake or I am literally going to fall into a coma in ten seconds.

(Nancy be like "oh God...WHO GAVE ROBIN COFFEE?!")

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Vickie: Are you drinking enough water?

Nancy : Sometimes my tears get in my mouth.

(*continue* but I don't like crying so I don't cry often)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Vickie: Isn’t it a bit dangerous?

Nancy : Vickie, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt.

Vickie: ...

Nancy : Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt.

Vickie: ...

Nancy : Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves in the way home.

(Nancy telling Vickie about the upside down)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Robin: So, are they your friend or...

Chrissy: They’re like Vickie, but if Vickie was ordered to be around you.

Robin: Oh, so Nancy.

Chrissy: Precisely!

(idk what to say)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

*At a speed dating event*

Chrissy: Oh wow, people are really shallow.

Nancy : Consider it a background check. For example: Do you have a death certificate?

Chrissy: *Checks their pulse* Sorry, not yet.

Nancy : Good, I'm not fucking a ghost again.

(ROBIN DIED?! 😧..also the "sorry, not yet" 😂)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Robin, texting Nancy : *sends a voice message*

Nancy , texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent?

Robin: No, don’t worry, just listen later.

*later*

Nancy : *presses play*

Robin's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

(ah...So that's how she died... Wait 🤔 is that what happened before the funeral...anyway)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Vickie: Do you know that we are made out of atoms?

Vickie: And atoms never touch each other.

Vickie: So in my defense, officer. I did not punch this kid.

(🤯🤯🤯mind blowing)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Robin: I mean, sure, I have my bad days, but then I remember what a cute smile I have.

(and also the power she holds over the girls)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Vickie: What’s it like being tall?

Nancy: Is it nice?

Chrissy: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Robin: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

(But that's the fun part. No risk no fun)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Chrissy: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems.

Robin: Weight loss? Drink water.

Vickie: Clear skin? Drink water.

Nancy: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.

(Well Hydrate or Die-drate as you once said Chrissy)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nancy, watching Vickie and Chrissy fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt?

Robin, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other.

Nancy: Then... who��s the strongest out of you three?

Vickie: Robin.

Chrissy: Robin.

Robin: Me.

(Buff Robin)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Vickie: You know you can die from that, right?

Chrissy: *smoking a cigarette* That’s the point.

Nancy: *drinking alcohol* We’re trying to speed this up.

Robin: *Eating raw cookie dough and nodding*

(Vickie being the most mentally stable)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Chrissy: You guys worried about Vickie?

Nancy: Totally!

Robin: Yeah, they called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?"

Chrissy: And what'd you say?

Robin: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno."

Nancy:

Chrissy: They're lucky to have you as a friend.

(I couldn't have given an better answer)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nancy: I love you.

Robin: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Nancy and Robin kiss passionately*

Chrissy, to Vickie: You owe me 20 dollars.

(well it's your fault for betting against.. Idk.. What did they bet on?)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Chrissy: ARE YOU-

Vickie: Fucking.

Chrissy: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Vickie: Fucking.

Chrissy: IDIOT!

Robin: …What was that?

Vickie: Nancy banned Chrissy from swearing, so I’m helping them out.

(I want Chrissy to be a Gamer and she swears a lot while playing)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Chrissy: I am darkness. I am an power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am-

Robin: A doll.

Nancy: A cinnamon roll.

Vickie: A sweetheart.

Chrissy:

Chrissy: ...stop it.

(looks like a cinnamon, could kill you)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nancy: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something!

Vickie: You left me, Robin, and Chrissy in a Walmart parking lot at 2am a day ago.

Nancy: I did that on purpose, try again.

(I wonder what they did, she would never let Robin alone with those two together)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nancy: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Vickie: Put spaghetti in it.

Nancy: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Chrissy: Put spaghetti in it.

Nancy: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Robin: Put spaghetti in it.

Nancy: I am no longer taking suggestions.

(👁️spaghetti👁️)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Vickie: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out.

Nancy: Fucking Chrissy and Robin were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

(I feel sorry to the person who Nancy will attack)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[The Party]

Lucas: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.

El: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...

Mike: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.

Max: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.

Dustin: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.

Will: Mental stability, my old friend!

Lucas: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

(Good start, right?)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Lucas: If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.

Lucas: Violently practices.

El: Violently studies.

Mike: Violently sleeps.

Dustin: Violently shoots pictures.

Max: Violently boxes.

Will: Violently murders people.

Mike: Violently worries about the previous statement.

(Will is so adorable 🥺)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Max: *dies*

Will: Timer starts now! When are they coming back? I say two months!

Mike: Bullshit. One month.

El and Lucas sobbing: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? MAX JUST DIED!

Dustin, scratching chin in thought: One week.

(I do wanna know when she wakes up again 👀 I don't think Dustin will win)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Computer: Please enter a password.

Max: *types in El*

Computer: Your password is too weak.

Max: How fucking DARE YOU-

(don't call El weak 🤨)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dustin: Why shouldn't you put a toaster in a bathtub full of water?

El: Because your toast would get soggy!

(Good enough, El)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Squad reactions to being called straight:

Mike: The fuck, no I'm not.

Lucas: Excuse the hell out of you?

Dustin: Ding dong, you are wrong!

El: Who told you that? And why did they lie?

Will: Rude.

Max: *punches the person*

(El: friends don't lie)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Max: Are we fighting or flirting?

El: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

Max: Your point?

(Max no, she needs to stay innocent)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Mike: Croissants: dropped

Will: Road: works ahead

Dustin: BBQ sauce: on my titties

Max: Shavacado: fre

Lucas: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead

El:

El: ...I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

(5 feet apart: not gay)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

El, at Max: You're my significant other.

Max: Yeah I am!

El, at Dustin: You're my child.

Dustin: Yes boss.

El, at Lucas: You're my bitch.

Lucas: Yeah I am- wait, what?

El, at Will: My bestie.

Will: Naturally.

El, Mike: HA, GAY!

Mike: Fuck you.

(Max taught her that)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

So I forgot to write the ending (or well it didn't really save)

Also there isn't much Form the party, some i think got lost because it didn't save, I also didn't find a lot fitting quotes for them.

Anyway, so next part is gonna be 10 and that's one's gonna be all the ST characters I can think of and it's just gonne be random.

lots of love ✨😌♥️✨

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ceruleanchillin · 3 years

Text

Honeymoon Headcanons: Mayans Edition

Characters: Angel, Coco, EZ x F!Reader

Miami (Angel)

It wasn’t difficult at all to decide where the two of you would take your honeymoon. When you weren’t gonna be naked, Angel wanted you in sundresses and bikinis. You wanted him in linen shirts, and to feel him up in a club. Couple that with you both wanting a tropical environment, and Miami it is.

Angel letting you handle the accommodations, because you seem to know more about what you wanna see/where you wanna go than he does. He only cares about a bed and shower for when he’s not taking you in the inappropriate places. He just hands over the cash, though he complains about his hurt wallet.

Angel hard as a rock when he sees your new name on your plane ticket.

The two of you nearly missing your flight because your husband needs to “show his wife he loves her”.

You babying him on the flight, because Angel has never flown anywhere before.

“Mami, it’s perfectly valid to feel like a flying toaster can’t safely get you anywhere but a casket. Which they can’t even put you in, because you’ll be everywhere!”

Cue you distracting him with kisses and dirty words in his ear, which gets you initiated into the Mile High Club

Barely making it into the cute little condo before the two of you are at it again, collapsing in the late hours to jet lag and mutual satisfaction.

Your first official day is spent dragging Angel around the humid streets. Knowing he stresses easily if you plan things too tightly, and wanting to wing it yourself. It’s surprising how well you to fit in, it almost feels like home.

Angel switching from being jealous, because your tiny cotton sundress is attracting more than just his attention, to him kissing all over your dewy skin because so much of it is visible.

You getting as jealous as Angel, because it seems like each place you drag him to has openly interested ladies. It’s the white linen shirt that he won’t fully button no matter how many times you try to make him.

Angel basking in the attention, and even playing it up to force you to be the one to initiate inappropriate public sex.

Smirking when you break after a woman pays for his (and unintentionally yours) order at a small cafe you stepped into and you snap and drag him to a hidden place.

“I only love you querida, mi alma.” he whispers in your ear when he bottoms out inside you.

You two are a beautiful couple. Photogenic as all hell. Alone, neither of you have a problem attracting interest, but together, you make people want to be seen around you. That’s why you have no problem club hopping to all the exclusive places.

Angel taking photos and videos of you dancing because he’s so enthralled. He can’t wait to show your kids one day when they ask why he fell for you, and he explains how full of life you are.

Getting enough liquor in Angel to get him dance somewhere away from the club, especially since he (lies) and says he can’t.

You and Angel competing to see who can get the most people to buy your drinks + the two of you losing track because you both get drunk.

A quickie in the coatroom is the prize, Angel fucking you to the hypnotic beat.

Spending a few hours apart the following day, only to still keep texting and FaceTiming each other until you met up, touch starved, at a small restaurant.

Deciding to spend the rest of the day at your Airbnb laid up under each other after Angel scores weed. Teasing Angel about his monetary complaints when you spend all night enjoying the small backyard pool.

Angel thanking God for getting an adventure loving woman as his soulmate when you wake him up the next afternoon to inform him you rented jet skis for the day.

You being impressed when, while jet skiing, Angel silver tongues your way into an invitation to a nearby yacht party out of the host.

FaceTiming Gilly to make him jealous that you two are doing Hookah and drinking Casamigos in a hot tub.

Angel ramping up the mockery when EZ and Coco appear on screen, attracted by Gilly’s whining. Everyone looking overworked and salty, while you and Angel are living your best non-sober lives.

Slipping away from the party to one of the rooms on the boat, because once again, you and Angel never know when to stop teasing each other before it ends up in sex.

Feeling bold enough to suggest that since Angel’s been documenting so much of the trip, that maybe he should film this too.

The aftermath being a surprisingly sweet series of kisses and confessions where the two of you express how thankful you are to have found each other. How you can’t wait to build a forever together.

Marfa + Roswell (Coco)

No one knew how you got Coco to agree to travel for your honeymoon until you finally revealed where you were going. Splitting a week between Marfa and Roswell.

You and Coco are that “weird” conspiracy, incense, and weed couple, so it makes sense.

Giving Coco an edible before you leave, because like Angel, he doesn’t fuck with air travel like that.

“They got me with that bullshit in the military, but that was out of my control. You askin’ a lot right now, you’re lucky you’re cute mujer.”

Coco getting progressively handsy during the flight as the edible hits. Eventually, you stop fake-fighting his neck kisses and forward touches.

Also like Angel in that he’s unafraid to become a member of the Mile High Club.

The ride from the El Paso airport, to the car rental place, to Marfa takes far longer than Coco would like.

He’s used to long stretches of trip on his bike, and when you notice him becoming antsy, you distract him with interesting facts about Marfa.

The entire time, Coco can’t help but think that you’re the perfect road trip co-pilot, only to realize he actually meant his life in general now.

Coco proud as hell when you fall in love with his accommodations choice like he did. The colorful airstream trailers of the El Cosmico hotel are the two of you through and through.

You both trying to be responsible adults and refresh after travel, but continuing to get lost in each other during the whole process.

Shower sex -> Making out while drying off -> Touching while searching through your bags for something to wear -> bed sex -> repeat

Looking thoroughly mauled when you finally manage to get Coco off of you and into the car in search of food the next afternoon.

Coco being happy you can’t cover up due to the heat, while you wonder what superpower he and his boys have that let them wear flannel and long sleeves in the heat.

Dragging Coco to a cute cafe you saw on instagram, and him knowing, by the hipster design of it, that his wallet is about to cry.

Stealing food from his plate, and laughing at him sucking his teeth and whining when he catches you.

“You’re stuck with me forever now Johnny sooo….get used to this.”

“Small price to pay for that I guess.”

Finding small shops to go to and being Siamese twins in every one. Coco showing he has good taste in a lot of things one might think he wouldn’t. Him opening up his wallet at everything you 'ooh' and 'aww' at. He can’t help it, he likes you happy, and your kisses and adoring looks are addicting.

For almost everything you get, Letty gets something too. Neither of you wants that tantrum when you get back.

You fighting yourself to avoid the art supply store, and Coco not having it.

“I have so many supplies already, it’s an addiction at this point.”

“So? Get some more. It’s our week, we shouldn’t stress about shit.”

Coco bragging on your talents and successes to the art shop cashier when you checkout.

“Cocoooo.” you murmur hiding your face in his shoulder, arms around his waist.

“Don’t be shy ma, you’re fucking amazing. I love your skills.”

Cue the cashier swooning at the two of you.

Finding unique liquor stores and getting tipsy on samples. It becomes twice as fun when locals, and other tourists alike, start discussing the Marfa lights with you, and you and Coco impress everyone with your ideas.

Being invited to a bonfire smoke session with the other El Cosmico guests when you get back.

Sketching Coco by the firelight, because he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in that moment, and now he’s officially yours.

The sex being on another level of intimate that night, because all day you and Coco have been engaging in your respective love languages, and it culminates in mutual need for each other.

The drive to Roswell being more tolerable for Coco, but he still misses his bike. Your excitement about AlienFest is so palpable however, he quickly forgets.

Your hotel being more conventional, but the people you meet making up for it. Finally, you and Coco aren’t the weirdest ones in the room.

Taking the time before the festival starts to check in with friends and family and accumulate odd souvenirs for them. You believe Coco is intentionally getting them stuff they’ll hate.

“Taza won’t wear that baby, he has better taste in jewelry than UFO earrings.”

“Ok, but can he bitch about us not getting him anything? Plus, you can guilt anyone into anything.”

Doing cute edible pastries at the festival.

“You know Aliens are demons right? Jack Parsons and L. Ron Hubbard were doing summoning rituals in the Mojave in 1946, and Roswell was the following year.”

“Word?…Shit. Tell me that again when we’re not rolling. I wanna read about it………you’re so smart mami.”

Coco realizing between every snack stop, every dance he shares with you, every trinket you pick up, and every little conspiracy tidbit you share, that you’re his wife now. That the peace he’s been feeling all week, that he thought he’d never have, is going to be his new normal.

New Orleans (EZ)

You and EZ both enjoy engaging with history and culture, and felt that your honeymoon should be built off of your shared interests. During your meticulous wedding planning, it was decided New Orleans would be the honeymoon destination. It didn’t hurt that you missed your southern roots too, even if you weren’t from New Orleans.

Traveling with EZ is a dream considering you’re both pretty organized, together people. He’s not afraid of flying, but you’re always a little nervous.

EZ being Best Husband™️ and soothing even the most minor of your stresses by turning your attention to the excitement of your trip and your new relationship status.

Teasing EZ in-flight won’t get you Mile High Club initiated, because he finds it much more entertaining to punish you by letting you work the both of you up, and making you stay that way for the duration of the flight. He’s got enough will power to suffer through it, because your soft whines make it worth it.

The airbnb is everything it was promised to be, and you’d appreciate that later, but all you can think of is your husband when you step through the door. That’s the other half of why EZ likes to leave you waiting. Your aggression and exclusive desire for him gets, and keeps, him hard.

It rains the following day, which is just as well, because neither of you are quite ready to stop physically expressing your love for each other. The day consists of ordering food, falling out of your clothes and onto each other, separating to read, falling back on each other, and quick naps.

Angel sending mocking texts in your Reyes group about how you’re trying to turn his brother bamma like you, only to stop when you threaten him with no souvenirs.

EZ and you taking responsibility for your own tour because let’s face it, you both know exactly what you want to see, and can plan a more satisfying tour for the both of you. You take turns deciding where to go next.

When it’s his turn, EZ picks an art museum, and can’t quit smiling about it. You think it’s because he picked a place he really wanted to go to.

“Babe, I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” your excitement always makes EZ’s heart race with his own.

He hands you the guide brochure he picked up at the door, folded to the section he wants you to look at.

“Faith Ringgold exhibit?!”

He hums and nods, grunting when you knock into him with a hug.

“Thank you for thinking of me. I love you.” you look up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears and he just kisses you, afraid he’ll cry if he says anything.

The two of you avoid the tourist trap spots for lunch and find a cute family owned cafe. You order for the both of you based on what you know about southern cuisine and both of your tastes.

You love watching EZ fall in love with the food as he keeps asking “Can you make this?” about everything he eats.

The two of you walking through the Garden District in the evening. Hands swinging between you with no plans but to admire the beautiful homes and foliage.

EZ noting how awestruck you are, and you describing what you love about the historic, towering homes.

He catches that when you describe what your dream home in the area would be, he and your future children are mentioned frequently, and it makes butterflies dance in his stomach. He can picture your family in the yards around him.

The two of you almost make it back to your Airbnb, but give into your baser urges after all the domestic conversation. EZ pulls you into an alley for a quickie, the two of you fighting to silence the other’s vocal expression.

You teasing EZ after that he’s more like his brother than he thinks. Him teasing back the two of you would’ve been caught and arrested if he was like Angel.

The following day is relaxed and less planned. The both of you getting thoughtful gifts for each member of your family, blood and otherwise. EZ scores major points for the gifts he suggests for your mom and dad, and you kind of want to jump him again.

EZ is glad you’re impressed, but it’s nothing to him. It all comes naturally because he loves you so much, and refuses to be anything other than the husband he knows you deserve.

AN:

I didn’t want to add this, cuz I wanted to end on a sweet note, but you just know Angel would accidentally send that vid to one of his boys.

Personally, I lose it for shit like this. Anything domestic in writings is my jam, so I decided to make these headcanons.

- Fun fact: Jet Ski is kind of like Bandaid in that it’s become the generic term for “personal water vehicles”, but it’s actually a specific brand’s name for their PWVs. I learned this while writing this enjoy💀.

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #coco cruz #coco cruz x reader #ez reyes #ez reyes x reader #reader insert #angel reyes imagine #coco cruz imagine #ez reyes imagine

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acepalindrome · 2 years

Text

Plans for my OFMD/pirate island in Animal Crossing:

- the entry from the airport leads into a dock area with most of the villager houses floating on the docks, plus resident services surrounded by castle walls to turn it into a pirate-y fort. Mostly completed, just needs more decorations (I constantly need more barrels.)

- north of the docks is the shopping district with Nooks and Able’s, plus Spanish Jackie’s bar and some stalls with various pirate stuff for sale (ranging from cannonballs and cannons to art supplies and fine fabrics.) Very much a wip right now.

- Past the shopping district is a land bridge leading to the Revenge! Very heavily based on this build because it’s huge and perfect and great for customizing with your own designs to make the ship unique. Highly recommend it if you’ve got the room for a big ship on your island, it takes a while to put together but it looks great. I’ve got the basic build but still working on decorations.

- Left of the docks is Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill (aka Ed’s house,) featuring outdoor dining on the beach. The main room of his house is the bar to order from, then a room for the main kitchen, a separate kitchen for the bakery and desserts because Edward ‘Sweet-tooth’ Teach needs a whole room just for sugary goodness, a gift shop, a bar in the basement (don’t tell Spanish Jackie she’s got a rival) and Ed’s living space upstairs which is a mix of Ed’s goth aesthetics and his new found appreciation of fine things. And jars of marmalade for a midnight snack.

- North of Ed’s house is Izzy’s, cluttered with a lot of barrels and boxes to store the extra supplies from the restaurant, and lots of books and stacks of papers for the guy who’s managing the bookkeeping (he’s got to have a job around here to keep him busy or he gets unsettled and cranky.) His house is mostly devoted to keeping Ed’s business running smoothly, but he does have a nice little room for his pet snake that’s all decorated like a jungle so his little noodle buddy has lots of enrichment (and a few hamster cages for food, because he’s a brutal realist.) He’s also got a surprisingly cozy bedroom, if you can find your way there past all the clutter.

- Next to Izzy’s house is a small farm to supply Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill with fresh produce. Does Izzy manage the farm? Do Ed and Izzy care for the farm together and are working through their decades of issues through the very therapeutic act of growing things together? Maybe! Also don’t ask why there are milk cans. You don’t need to know where the milk came from.

- Right from the docks is an orange grove and little collection of stands to buy oranges, orange juice, and all manner of foods made with oranges. Also a little informational sign about the dangers of scurvy and why you should eat more oranges. And a little medical area in case you already have scurvy.

- North of the orange grove is Stede’s house, featuring a very ornate and very gay rainbow garden out front. His house is also on a little island with a dock outback overlooking a lighthouse. Surely nothing dramatic will happen on that dock. Inside of his house is Stede’s library, auxiliary wardrobe, a nice comfy bathroom in case anyone needs to cry in the tub, and a very comfy bedroom with the framed lighthouse picture. The whole house is loaded with all his weird little nicknacks.

- And at the top of the island, west of the Revenge, is a whole lot of insane foliage! Just a big tropical jungle to explore with lots of natural beauty and hidden treasure (and a petrified orange, if you search hard enough. It’s just a rock I buried at the base of an orange tree, but yknow.)

- There’s also a small beach that’s Frenchie and Wee John’s hangout spot with lots of fire and musical instruments, plus Wee John’s doll, a nice picnic blanket for them to chill on, and plenty of gyroids to sing along with Frenchie.

- There’s a hidden beach north of the natural area where Lucius comes to hang out and sketch people. There are lots of art supplies, books and an art easel featuring an eggplant. There are also eggplant and cucumber items around. For no particular reason. Nothing to do with Lucius’ subject matter at all.

- I haven’t started it at all but I want to use another beach to make a fish market and some other stalls to represent other characters. A food stall with lots of meat for Roach, a bunch of knives for sale for Jim…a stall selling crocs for Olu? Still figuring that one out.

- Also near Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill is a turtle and a crab facing each other as if in combat. Calico Jack has been here.

#ofmd #each of the houses only has about one decorated room a piece #and everything else on the list is like 25% finished #got a lot of basic layouts for builds

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ninjago-happens-here · 3 years

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'Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.'

@ninjago-angst-week am I late or what? Sorry but I think spewing out 21k words over teh course of 3 days killed my motivation. It took 3 days just to write 6.1k words.

Summary:

P.I.X.A.L. notices that the store of bandages is running low. She thinks about all the times she had to use them on one of her teammates, and its purposes.

“Hey Pix! We’re running low on bandages. Can you help us order some before we go to Shintaro?” Nya’s voice came from the medical bay of the Destiny’s Bounty. The Ninja and Master Wu were going on a trip to Shintaro. Unfortunately, Pixal never got an invite, but she has long been used to being left behind. It’s not that it was a bad thing, per se. Pixal knew the importance of having a backup, and having someone watch over Ninjago whilst the Ninja were gone. Still, to distract herself after placing a digital order, she thought about anything that could distract her. That thing just happened to be about bandages.

Bandages. Neat, white little things that wrap around any land or sky creature. According to Wikipedia, a bandage is a piece of material used either to support a medical device such as a dressing or splint, or on its own to provide support to or to restrict the movement of a part of the body. When used with a dressing, the dressing is applied directly to a wound, and a bandage is used to hold the dressing in place. Other bandages are used without dressings, such as elastic bandages that are used to reduce swelling or provide support to a sprained ankle. Tight bandages can be used to slow blood flow to an extremity, such as when a leg or arm is bleeding heavily.

At first, that was all P.I.X.A.L. knew about bandages. Given that she was built with the main purpose of being Cyrus Borg’s assistant, her primary knowledge consisted mostly of the ins and outs of Borg Tower, emergency protocols, customer service skills, and basic first aid, given that her maker was frailer than your average Ninjago citizen.

Of course, the longer she worked under Cyrus Borg, the more she learnt about the medical field. Curious about Mr Borg’s special circumstances, she was permitted to look through the internet for more information. In no time at all, she learnt about surgery, prosthetics, all different kinds of medication, and how to diagnose illnesses. In her given free time, she studied all the information available on the internet about the medical field. Even though the information was useless to her, an android who had no physical weaknesses like the humans do, her system determined that whilst the knowledge was a bit excessive, it only helps to prepare her to care for Mr Borg.

She never really needed to apply all that knowledge about serious and fatal cuts, but when Borg gets even the slightest injury, P.I.X.A.L. was there to offer her assistance.

A year after she had been created, Cyrus Borg had offered her to take a test of the field in medicine. P.I.X.A.L. had immediately felt lighter and better somehow. When asking Borg why she was feeling this way and if robots could get sick, Borg had laughed in surprise and shock.

“That feeling is happiness, P.I.X.A.L.! It’s an emotion that all living creatures feel, you included.”

“But I am not living-“ Mr Borg cut her off.

“Technically, you are right, P.I.X.A.L., but you are intelligence, and intelligence is what defines life. You can adapt, change, and overcome as all living beings do. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise! Because that would be an insult to my intelligence!” Cyrus Borg said encouragingly. “And robots can technically get sick, from a digital virus. But I created you to be strong, stronger than I ever will be. You should not have to worry about them.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded her head to show her understanding. “Then I will go to the exam.”

P.I.X.A.L. didn’t pass on her first try, but Mr Borg told her that it was alright, given that she still did very well considering that she only had the free internet to look for answers to a test she was unprepared for. It was human for her to have failed.

“So why did you send me there with no preparation?” P.I.X.A.L. asked with a shaking voice.

“To prepare you for failure, my dear!” Cyrus Borg said patronisingly. “Since I’ve built you, you’ve been perfect in many, many ways. And that isn’t a bad thing! But life isn’t that simple. You may fail in one way or another in the future because like humans, the circumstances may not be what you desired and plans can fall apart due to errors. What I want you to know is how failure feels like, and I will help you recover from it.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded. It won’t be long before she faced her first, real big failure.

- Lloyd - The first time she had to really apply those skills that she learnt was when the team had seen Lloyd in the village. After he was pulled out of the ocean because he had to escape from an exploding plane that the Digilord had trapped him on. The locals had wanted to help, but Lloyd wasn’t feeling like having strangers cut him up, so they offered him some basic and outdated medical supplies.

P.I.X.A.L. could see him trying to treat himself and to stay awake, and she could see him hiss as the alcohol drizzled on his wounds.

“LLOYD!” Kai shouted in a tone that conveyed panic. This made the young ultimate spinjitzu master look up from his handiwork and immediately break into a smile. As the team had rushed forward to greet him, P.I.X.A.L. could see that his shoulders were sagging, probably from relief.

“I’m so sorry that I got caught guys,” Lloyd wheezed with an apologetic smile before keeling over, to which Cole caught him with shaking hands.

“Oh god, Zane, quick, do your thing!” Kai panicked even harder, hands jittery as if he was in an internal debate about whether he should do something or not. “I’m trying Kai! I just- my hands keep shaking for some reason!” Zane gritted his teeth in frustration. “I’m gonna run some diagnostics on him” “Okay, Cole, lie him on a flat surface- medic! Medic!” Nya screamed out.

It was at this moment that P.I.X.A.L. knew that was her chance. To repay Zane for his heart. To prove to the team that she was useful. To finally implement her knowledge. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll ever have what Zane has with the other humans, but for now, she is glad that she can separate her emotions from her work.

“Let me handle it,” P.I.X.A.L. said authoritatively. Running a scan with her own diagnostics, P.I.X.A.L. isolated the most dangerous injuries before telling the group out loud, staring at her apprehensively.

“Master Lloyd has suffered a concussion, lung damage due to smoke inhalation, and fractured bones in his tibia. He also has a sprained ankle and several bones on his upper chest area have several bruises. Luckily, there is no internal bleeding. He also has some first and second-degree burns, but those look like they have been treated by the ocean water. However, he is at risk of hypothermia should he not change out of those clothes. Other cuts and bruises should not be life-threatening as long as we keep the infection away, and-“

“WE GET IT! Can you just PLEASE start treating Lloyd NOW?” Jay shrieked in frustration. P.I.X.A.L. blinked. Oh right, the ninjas are still panicking.

“Apologies, can I have a look at the medical supplies?” Taking a scalpel out of the medical box, P.I.X.A.L. removed Lloyd Garmadon’s shirt and so multiple bruises as well as the look of someone who’s emancipated. It didn’t really make any sense to her, but she supposed that being drained of his elemental powers must have caused some damage.

“To treat his concussion, he needs peace and to rest. I would like if all of you can speak in whispers from now on,” P.I.X.A.L. began. The soup suddenly looked ashamed and guilty, with Jay whispering a soft ‘sorry’.

“To treat his hypothermia, we would need blankets-“

“Why can’t I just warm him up with fire?” Kai cut across. “Well, the extreme heat can damage the skin or, even worse, cause irregular heartbeats so severe that they can cause the heart to stop. However, starting a campfire some meters away could help a little. using this fire, we can make some warm beverages and some food.”

“Just say what we gotta do doc, we’ll listen!” Nya begged swiftly. P.I.X.A.L. thought for a moment, before choosing to sort people out based on their perceived abilities.

“Kai, Jay, Cole, Sensei Wu, and Sensei Garmadon- please look for blankets in the village and start a campfire over there,” Pointing at a spot a satisfactory distance from Lloyd, P.I.X.A.L. continued with giving instructions. “Start making some sort of soup- not too heavy. Zane, Nya- you’re with me.”

Garmadon, who was silent all this time, started to protest. “I cannot leave my son, Pixal.”

“Fine, you may stay and just keep tending to the campfire,” P.I.X.A.L. conceded, not wanting to waste time arguing. There was the matter of fact that the smoke inhaled by Lloyd Garmadon could be fatal, but there was not much that she could do in his location. All she could hope to do was to treat his minor injuries before ensuring that Lloyd is stable enough to go to a hospital in Ninjago. Which would have been impossible, given that the Digilord had control of the city already. What could she do? Maybe there’s an elemental master of the air who could treat Lloyd?

“Pix, do you not have any ideas on how to treat the smoke inhalation?” Zane looked at her with kind and understanding eyes. Pixal nodded, defeated, before preparing a cast. “We need concentrated oxygen and a nose tube or a tube down his throat. Unfortunately, there is nowhere in Ninjago where we can get to such technology.”

Hearing this, Nya immediately perked up. “But we can make them. Zane, do you have any wires that you can spare for a bit?”

“Redirecting power from the right hand,” Zane replied as he opened up his arm to take out a tube. He’s so self-sacrificing. For some strange reason, P.I.X.A.L. felt her heart beating faster. Maybe Zane was nervous? “Nya, if you could please clean this?”

“Of course. HEY KAI!” “Yeah, sis?” Nya was looking at P.I.X.A.L. expectantly. Oh yes. she was supposed to know this, wasn’t she? “Can you get us 10 cups of potable water and 1 cup of vinegar? Also, get some detergent or soap.” “Okay Pix, not gonna question this at all!”

Meanwhile, Nya was using pure H2O to just start blasting the tubing As much as they wanted Lloyd to not die from smoke inhalation, they also didn’t want him to be infected. Speaking of infections…

“Ow!” Lloyd woke up sleepily as Zane used one hand to dab his cuts. Looking sheepish, Zane immediately offered an apology before Nya cuts in and admitting her mistake.

“Go back to Lloyd,” Nya said, petting his hair. Once Kai had returned with the necessary materials, Nya sanitised her hands before delicately cleaning the tube with 10 parts water and 1 part vinegar.

Tightening the wrappings around Lloyd’s ankle, Pixal studied her handiwork. The splint was holding up nicely against Lloyd’s leg, and all the infections on Lloyd’s legs were taken care of. Seeing as Zane is treating Lloyd well enough, P.I.X.A.L. immediately began to start diagnosing Lloyd’s burns before seeing blood flow from Lloyd’s back.

“Oh, dear.” In her hast, P.I.X.A.L. had forgotten to check Lloyd for injuries from behind. Maybe she wasn’t as professional as she thought. There was no other choice. Looking at Zane firmly, they pushed Lloyd onto his side as he gave a pained groan.

P.I.X.A.L.’s mechanical heart sank. Lloyd had a reason for sitting up without any support. There were several pieces of debris stuck to his back, and they were all pushed in due to them lying Lloyd on the desk. Nya looked up from her task in horror.

“I’m so sorry Lloyd, I didn’t know-“ “Nya, please focus on your task,” P.I.X.A.L. cut her off before she could begin crying. She felt bad, but what’s done was done. Blocking Lloyd from’s Nya’s view, P.I.X.A.L. picked up a pair of tweezers before picking up the small pieces. But the large piece of metal stuck in his shoulder blades- Pixal had to cut Lloyd’s skin to get that out. Eyes narrowing, hardening her resolve- P.I.X.A.L. lightly cut Lloyd’s skin using the scalpel before pulling up a long shard of bloodied glass. Picking up some of the unused water, P.I.X.A.L. quickly cleared Lloyd and the flat-surfaced of their blood. Applying pressure to those wounds would be hard from this angle, so after disinfecting the openings, P.I.X.A.L. took several rolls of bandages before tying them around Lloyd’s chest. Not too tightly, that would further bruise his ribs- but tight enough to ensure a sense of security and staunch the oozing bleeding.

“Zane, do you have an oxygen filter?” Nya asked, having been satisfied by the cleanliness of the tubing. Sanitising her metallic hands, P.I.X.AL. heard Zane sigh before declining.

“I do. Mr Borg wanted us to be at least a little environmentally friendly, given that the Nindroids would be using large amounts of energy every day. So I can filter out excess greenhouse gases in the air and store them in their solid form before giving the raw materials back to Borg Industries,” P.I.X.A.L. offered.

“You’re a lifesaver Pix,” Nya said in relief, handing P.I.X.A.L. the tubing. P.I.X.A.L. smiled. She supposed that she actually was. Opening Lloyd Garmadon’s mouth, P.I.X.A.L. inserted the tubing down his throat with NIndroid precision. Connecting the end to her oxygen filter, P.I.X.A.L. adjusted the settings so that she was inputting air composing of at least 60% oxygen into young Garmadon’s lungs.

As Zane finished applying some frost to Lloyd’s burns, the 3 of them stood there and watched as Lloyd breathed in and out.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll go find what the guys have been doing,” Nya informed their group. “I too will go into the village, but to ensure that we have permission to stay here for the night,” Zane stated, giving a nod to P.I.X.A.L., before walking away into the dusk, right hand locked and useless.

P.I.X.A.L., knowing that she can’t really move, sat next to Lloyd Garmadon as she watched the campfire grow as shrieks from the ninja team rose. At the end of today, all P.I.X.A.L. wanted to do was to just shut down and recharge. She knows she doesn’t need to know that she had half of Zane’s heart (which just skipped another beat for some unknown reason), but all she wants was a break.

Too bad that being a ninja means that you don’t really get to choose when to stop. P.I.X.A.L. thought to herself.

But at least today, I’ve proved my usefulness. I can repay Zane for his heart.

- Kai - Having been stuck alone, disassembled and scrapped, P.I.X.A.L. found that she really, really missed the Ninja team. She also missed Zane, though he was in a cell next to hers. He’s been offline for such a long time, P.I.X.A.L. had fears that he would never wake up.

But he did. And the ninja had rescued them from Chen. But along the way, they had lost Sensei Garmadon, and the year apart had caused some major issues.

Kai doesn’t know that they’re here. But he shouldn’t be here either after Zane had ordered that everyone go to rest after this long day. Still, the glint of red from his eyes even scared P.I.X.A.L., but she would never tell anyone that. She watched as Kai shredded the bandages he wrapped around his hands by destroying a metal training dummy, before turning around to wrap some more.

“Why is he doing that?” P.I.X.A.L. wondered from inside Zane’s head. Zane started whispering, “He… has some anger issues.”

“I get that Zane, I mean why’s he wrapping his hands in bandages?” P.I.X.A.L. corrected herself. Zane quirked an eyebrow but continued with answering P.I.X.A.L.’s questions. “Well, martial artists wear hand wraps and bandages because they can prevent injuries and improve the power of their punches. Wraps and bandages also protect the martial artist’s skin and soften the impact on hard surfaces.”

“I see,” P.I.X.A.L. stated whilst both of them cringed, as Kai delivered a particularly hard blow to the metallic dummy that Zane was supposed to fight with.

“KAI, PLEASE SHUT UP!” came Jay’s voice from down the corridor, moving closer towards them. Zane and P.I.X.A.L. watched in apprehension as Kai breathed heavily, staring down the metallic dummy before all the tension from his shoulders sagged.

The Nindroids watched as Kai cleaned up the training room and head out to use the bathroom to wash up.

“He’s being too hard on himself for the death of Lloyd’s father,” P.I.X.AL. commented blandly. Zane shifted from his position. “I’m afraid that that’s not the only reason. Do you remember Jay telling us that Kai had almost killed both Lloyd and Skylor using Chen’s staff?” P.I.X.A.L. stayed silent.

Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.

- Jay - It was only a few days after Master Wu had been lost in time. Whilst the Ninja team were recuperating and in shock, Pixal has been remotely using Samurai X to patrol the cities whilst maintaining in the current Ninja’s headquarters- the electronic system of Yang’s temple. P.I.X.AL. had really wanted to go full into Samurai X, but she knew that she could not just desert her teammates at this moment. But there wasn’t much she could do, other than counting reps for Lloyd. (You skipped a number, I know what you’re doing Pix, and I ain’t gonna stop training-) helping Jay prepare breakfast (Jay! The pancakes are burning!) or accompanying Zane as he retrieved bits and pieces from all the fighting. (Someone has to clean up Ninjago city, and I guess that that would be me and Samurai X.)

P.I.X.A.L. knew that she shouldn’t be keeping Samurai X a secret, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt a strange sense of duty, and the ability to finally be on the front lines, fighting the same enemies as Zane. And she wanted some secrets to herself.

Still, it surprised her when Jay had demanded her full attention during one of her free times.

“Hey, umm… Pix? Do you- do you think you could maybe check out my left eye?” Jay stammered whilst twiddling his fingers. Pixal was curious, but she’s already moved to Jay’s laptop. “Why do you ask so? Did your eye get hit sometime recently?”

Jay had flinched at the word ‘hit’, but shook his head at the word ‘recently’. Huh. Maybe it was phantom pains? Still, Pixal had run a diagnostic on it.

“I can’t seem to find any physical abnormalities, but if this is a case of phantom pain, over the counter pain relievers should work.”

Jay nodded whilst his eyes were blank seemingly off to another world or lost in his memories.

“Jay? Jay, can you hear me?” Pixal once again ran a diagnostic scan. It seems that Jay was slipping into dissociation. Dimming the lights in his room as well as all the screens the blue ninja had put into his room. Pixal started playing a calm Ninjago lofi mix from the speaker she was in. She gently called Jay’s name and he slipped back into reality.

“Jay, just take 2 doses of ibuprofen. They’re at the lowest shelf at the kitchen counter. If it hurts again, tell me and we’ll bring you to a professional.”

Jay who was nodding at the instructions froze at the thought of being taken to the hospital. Still, he slid off his bed and made his way downstairs. Pixal filtered through the electronic system of the temple, landing new the smart fridge and watched as Jay swallowed 2 pills dry.

It seemed to create some results because Jay stopped shivering and shaking. Pixal wondered if that was just a placebo or an actual effect. Still, watching Jay’s face relax in bliss, free from whatever pain that was bothering him, Pixal knew that she made the right call.

- Nya - S9, fight with SOG

It had been brutal. Pixal was just treating the training injuries Lloyd had when Skylor came into the noodle house, helping Nya to walk as her left arm dangled without any purpose. Immediately, Pixal stood up and took quick strides, scanning Nya for all her injuries.

“We were getting supplies when a bunch of Harumi’s goons jumped on us, we had to be quick so that none of them could call up for back up, when-“ “When- fuck, when this dude pulled out a fucking gun,” Nya said, pained and heaving as Skylor slowly helped her to sit on the training mat.

“So you were shot?” Lloyd’s voice came from behind Pixal as he took the medkit to the mat. Nya eyes looked everywhere but at him. Gesturing to her limp and bleeding arm, she gave up all her dignity. “Yeah, right here.”

“Okay, Nya, here, take these.” Lloyd handed her 2 tablets of ibuprofen and a cup of water. “W-what? No, I can’t take these!” Nya hissed in pain.

“Yes, you can!” “What if we need them later? What if one of us loses an arm or something happens where we have a worse injury?” “That does not matter, Nya. Look, I’ve been shot in Ninjago city before, I know how it feels.”

Pixal immediately flashes back to the nights where she had to help Lloyd through a computer screen, and her metallic fingers curled up. It was horrible, watching him choking down painkillers before trying to pull the bullet out himself. Never again.

“Nya, it would be alright, just take these- we can always go out to get more,” Pixal tried coaxing Nya to just swallow the pills.

“Take them or I’ll force you to take them, Water Ninja.” Skylor admonished. With the combined strength of their motley crew of 3, Nya hesitantly reached for the medicine, almost choking as she had swallowed too much water at one go.

“Okay, good, now we just need to pull the bullet out,” Lloyd reached into the medkit, pulling out a pair of tweezers. Pixal watched as his hands, fatigued from all the trains, couldn’t stop shaking.

“Wait, Lloyd, let me see if the bullet should be removed at all.” Pixal interrupted, taking a more in-depth scan at Nya’s shoulder. In the meantime, Lloyd started to check through Skylor, who said that he was all clear except for a few knuckle bruises. Of course, Pixal would check on her later, but now she had to make sure that Nya would be alright.

“The bullet has missed your major arteries and it actually isn’t in too deep, possibly because of the protection offered by your suit-“ “Just tell me when you’re gonna remove it!” Nya snapped as her brow furrowed in anticipation. “Well, let’s see… first, we need to remove the clothing around the area of the wound, which-“

“AHH!” Nya shrieked as Pixal twisted and pulled out the bullet without any warning. “Sorry Nya, sometimes fear of a thing could be greater than the actual danger that it poses,” Pixal explained as Nya stared at her with a look that could only scream betrayal.

Dropping the bullet to the ground, Pixal took up some disinfectant and sanitised the area around the entry wound. Nya hissed as Pixal gently presses a cotton gauze to stop the bleeding before finally applying some sort of disinfectant cream. She finished off the wound with a bandage around Nya’s arm, with extra padding using gauze at the point where the wound is at.

“Alright, so now you should not move this arm too much for the next few days, and in the next few weeks, you would not be able to raise it over your shoulder. But in a few months, you can use it again and in a year it would be pretty much healed up so that you may do your weight lifting sessions with- with Cole again…” Pixal said, starting brightly but dropping to a small whisper.

The mood suddenly went from cheery to depressive. “Remember to take lots of rest,” Pixal finished lamely. As Lloyd escorted Nya to the sleeping bags they had gathered, Skylor picked up the bullet Pixal had removed.

“Girl, you were quite mean back there,” Skylor began. “And I think that you’re cool. One problem- the pharmacies have not been able to continue business as normal. All the drugs have to be given to the Sons of Garmadon. In the meantime, all supply chains are disrupted. Over the counter medicine won’t be so easy to find. “

Pixal kept quiet. “Well, I’ll have to keep this bullet as a souvenir for Nya. FSM knows that she deserves this.”

Of course, the bullet would be lost later as they were hunted down throughout the city. But every time Nya changed into her swimsuit, Pixal could see the bullet wound. The scarring left wasn’t pretty, but Pixal thought that the courage Nya showed made her the most beautiful woman she’ll ever have the chance to meet.

- Cole- Cole was alive. Cole was alive!

Pixal watched as the Ninja went into a momentary stop before cheering and becoming more alive. She saw Nya pass the Scythe of Earth to Cole, who promptly swung it into the oncoming Oni. Pixal was trying her best to fend off the Oni herself, but her mind, or rather, motherboard, was spinning really, really fast. How did Cole survive? It should have been impossible!

Pixal heard that Cole justify his survival, stating that the Oni clouds must have broken his fall. He didn’t know how he wasn’t attacked at first, but many tendrils then came to attack him.

Still, this was impossible for Pixal to figure out. Was it because Cole had been a ghost? Maybe it was his elemental power protecting him? Or perhaps it was divine intervention? Either way, Pixal was going o scan him later if there was even a later.

“Watch out!” Pixal saw a blast of green hit the Oni in front of her. I can’t afford to get lost in thought now! Come on Samurai X, focus! She chided to herself.

Yet, as the battle once again turned tides, and the elemental masters got together to do the Tornado of Creation, Pixal watched from her position behind the holding doors to see Lloyd Garmadon get thrown out of the tornado, hitting his head with an earth-shattering crack as he collapsed against the walls of the monastery before debris-covered him.

Frantically approaching him, Pixal saw out of the corner of her eye that the rest of the ninja were left dizzy, exhausted, and possibly some having passed out. That was alright. It was time for her to do her duty anyways.

However, whilst lifting slabs of concrete, Pixal felt her heart drop. The calculated survival rate of the impact sent shivers down Pixal’s circuits as the percentage just kept. Dropping. Lower.

Heaving the last piece of concrete off the young bearer of green power, Pixal heard her teammates rushing into the scene. She could have warned them, said something, said anything. But her joints were frozen in place with something much colder than what her sensors had detected when she went into the Oni cloud.

The motley crew, now only 5, took the last piece of debris off from their teammate.

“Lloyd. Buddy, wake up,” Kai pleaded, desperate. “He-He's not moving!” Nya exclaimed, voice shaking as tears start to form. She looked at Pixal, asking for anything, anything at all. “Someone find Wu. Where’s Wu?” Cole ordered.

In no time, Master Wu arrived and lifted Lloyd’s arm, checking his pulse. He would find nothing there.

“You can do something, right? Right?!” Jay panicked. With a defeated look that Pixal knows is mirrored in her eyes, Wu shook his head and said, “There’s nothing to be done.” Nya finally cries out, sobbing. “Oh, Lloyd!”

PIxal wanted to cry as well, but she never could. When rebuilding her body, she had used the same blueprints that Cyrus Borg had with some upgrades. One thing she didn’t consider adding was the ability to cry because there wasn’t any time. She had to save Lloyd from the vermillion. But what she can’t save Lloyd from, was from an early- early- d… fate.

There’s nothing Pixal could do. And she felt hopeless.

She watched from the corner of her eye as Garmadon backed away from their small group, and in a flash, she felt her wires burning. She couldn’t just let him leave. Not after what he’s done.

Yet, just as she was about to boost straight towards the Oni and tackle him off the mountain, Lloyd started to cough. Lloyd. Started to cough.

Whipping around to see a golden petal float away, she watched the team cheer as Lloyd started to breathe. How- this was impossible! Pixal almost short-circuited from shock. There had been no way! No way! She didn’t even go through all 5 stages of grief yet.

And not too soon, Lloyd woke up from a sleep that she was sure that he never would.

Catching him mumbling something about the First Spinjitzu Master, Pixal smiled. Divine intervention had definitely happened at least once today. The first time being….

“Cole, please come with me to the med bay,” Pixal requested with a smile. Divine intervention or not, five-sixths of the Ninja team knows how to hide a serious injury, and she had to be certain. Cole, who looked shopped, resigned himself and walked with Pixal o the medical centre. For now, she trusted that Zane was doing all the scans that he could to make sure that Lloyd was right in the head, and sought out to take care of her own, albeit selfish, worries.

Scanning Cole on both sides, Pixal noticed a particular bad bruise on Cole’s spine. Yet falling from that height and the fact that Cole isn’t paralysed due to spinal injury made Pixal reaffirm her theories that the First Spinjitsu Master was alive, just in another realm.

“You know, Lloyd might have actually seen the First Spinjitsu Master,” Pixal began, which led Cole to choke on the water he was ordered to drink. “No way, he must have just hit his head hard…”

“I’m sorry Cole, but the injuries you have is comparable to sleeping on a rock hard bed for one night, not falling from a height of 500m, even if your fall was broken by the Oni cloud, you should still have been paralysed,” Pixal explained.

“So God is real and Lloyd’s sharing a fourth of his blood? Neat! Next time tell him to not scare us with a fake-out,” Cole brushed it off.

At this time Pixal was about the shutdown and delve deep into theorising. Lloyd technically had a fourth of his grandfather’s blood and possessed the same power, could he possible have powers that control life and death-

Yet, she watched as a steady stream of Ninja enter the medbay, and resolved her thoughts to her inner GPU. She can think later. For now, she had to make sure that everyone is okay, and everyone will be okay. Even if she threatens Loyd to shave his head so she can get a better look at his skull, to which a chase around the monastery ensued. Her family was alright for now, and the concerning mortality of humans was left deep in the recesses of her mind.

- Zane - Too soon, Pixal had to face her own mortality. Being a Nindroid, her lifespan would naturally be much longer than a Ninja’s. But she still could be erased, dismantled, destroyed, sent to another realm-

The days waiting for the group of 6, not 5, to come back were some of the hardest. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to shut down, lie on her bed and stare into the picture they had taken on their first date, Pixal knew that the team was entrusting her to keep Ninjago safe. Even if it means recapturing escaped convicts. Even if it means fighting the… undead-dead Preeminent (Pixal still hasn’t figured out how she worked). And they had to find ways to reach the Never Realm, by going through different infusions of travellers tea.

Yet, all the waiting and longing was worth it. Pixal prefers a Zane stuck in another realm for 40 years as to no Zane. There was no other choice. Yet, as she sees her loved ones trudging out of the frosty realm, some of them had worst frost bites than others. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to smother Zane in a hug, she can see the edges of Lloyd’s skin turning a deep, dark black. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Nya taking care of Cole whilst Jay and Kai attempt to remove the ice from everyone else, including lubricating Zane’s frosted joins. She had not a single moment to lose. This kind of frostbite was not exactly lethal immediately, but losing limbs could mean the end of Lloyd’s ninja career. So calling everyone to attention, she went all in to salvaging Lloyd’s limbs, doing everything she could.

Later that night, Pixal spotted Zane wandering around the outskirts of the monastery whilst the Ninja finish up dinner. She watched as Zane’s hands gripped the staff so tight that the wood would be snapping in 3…2…1.

A harsh crack and splinters flying out later, Pixal could see the shaking in Zane’s hands as he cursed, something that the Zane she knew never would.

For her, it had been a hellish week. But for Zane? It must have been a hellish 40 years.

“…Zane?” Pixal called out from the monastery doors. Zane immediately whipped around before pointing the tip of the staff towards her, to which Pixal reflectively grabbed. Zane, eyes widening in shock and horror, immediately released his grip on the now shorter staff, before turning around, trying to run away. Pixal won’t let that happen.

“Zane,” Pixal said once again, hand now gripping onto the collar of Zane’s Gi. “Please don’t run away from me.”

Zane, froze, hands twitching before dropping them to his side. Pixal released her grip before tapping Zane on the shoulder, asking him to turn around.

“Pixal, I’m- I’m sorry…I just can’t- I can’t trust myself right now,” Zane vented out hands fidgeting with each other. Pixal smiled sadly. She knew that not everything could go back to normal so fast, but still, she had hoped that it would have been easier than this. “If you don’t trust yourself right now, why not spend some time with me?”

“Pixal- I…I could hurt you-“ “Yes you can, but don’t think that I can’t protect myself,” Pixal snapped back whilst carefully reaching to hold Zane’s hands. Once she made contact, Zane flinched back, before slowly reciprocating the action. “C’mon Zane, let’s go back into the monastery-“

“No!” Zane protested, wrenching Pixal back. Pixal clasped her other hand on top of Zane’s. “Not to the dining room. I’m thinking med bay.”

Pixal could see Zane’s processing unit cycle through his thoughts, noticing that it had considerable frost damage. Before long, Zane nodded his head, allowing Pixal to pull him into the light.

Opening the cupboards, Pixal took out a few rolls of bandages before carefully wrapping them around Zane’s hands. The ice ninja watched with curiosity as Pixal carefully finished tying and tightening the strips of cloth.

“Why are you doing this? You and I both know that Nindroids don’t need bandages,” Zane asked. Pixal smiled, looking at Zane’s now steadier hands. “Maybe bandages can’t fix our metal skin, but it still makes us feel better.”

Zane paused, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know how you’re right PIx, but they do make me feel more sure that my powers won’t hurt anyone accidentally. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get back to dinner, we have some desserts to bring out.”

Bandages. As much as PIxal uses them and finds them efficient, she can’t help but hope that team doesn’t need to use as many. But this time, t’s just a trip to a legendary city full of peace and prosperity. Maybe this time, Pixal doesn’t need to bandage their wounds away.

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backwardscapsmh · 4 years

Text

and here it is! the first fic on here that’s not completely angsty! (it’s maybe a little angsty at the beginning but it gets cuter eventually) i really liked the concept of lardo hating romcom cliches until she realizes that she likes them with shitty so i wrote this! i hope u like it. comments and constructive criticism are always welcome! :)

i used to think that romeo was full of shit // but when i look at you i think this must be it // pumpkin, pumpkin // you’re gonna kill me

- the regrettes “pumpkin”

If you asked Lardo what she thought love felt like a few years ago, she would’ve told you to fuck off. Deep thoughts and introspection into her deepest emotions? No thank you. Not with a total stranger. Back then, love felt like the excitement from opening new art supplies, the floaty feeling of good review from her favorite professor, the connection when playing flip cup with Rans and Holster, and the steady support from the rest of Samwell Men’s hockey.

But now, if you asked her what love felt like, she’d tell you the cliche answers: butterflies in her stomach, her heart skipping a few beats, the giddy feeling that came with casual touch. The standard romcom diagnosis. And it was all his fault! Shitty B Knight. Number 42 on Samwell Men’s Hockey Team. The resident gender studies major who’s not afraid to lecture about toxic masculinity to anyone who will listen. The one with the sick flow and mustache. Her best friend. She doesn’t know when she started thinking about him differently. One day she’s eating the pink gummy bears out of their shared bag on a roadie, legs tangled together and her head on his shoulder; the next Shitty’s never ending physical affection causes her heart to do somersaults. All she knows is that it happened, it sucks, and it’s all Shitty’s fault.

So now she’s here, at the Valentine’s/Nursey’s birthday kegster, holding a stack of cash won from predicting that Rans and Holster would work their shit out tonight, (they’re making out in the corner) and wishing Shitty would copy Jack and Bitty and drag her somewhere quiet and tell her how much he loves her. But that’s wishful thinking. Shitty’s too oblivious for that.

“Can’t believe you actually predicted the Holsom thing brah,” Shitty says, observing the kegster around them. He’s nursing a singular cup of tub juice, which is strange for him, but she doesn’t ask. “Well, I live with them and you don’t so,” she trails off, smirking up at him. “That’s true,” he concedes, humming along to the playlist blasting around them. They get strangely quiet after that, which isn’t strange in itself. They sit in silence often enough, but this time it’s weird and awkward. And that is the strange part. “Uhm, hey Lards?” Shitty asks after a few minutes, or hours, Lardo can’t tell. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he coughs. “Like, with me?” And that’s different too. Shitty sounds nervous, for some reason. Shitty is almost never nervous, or at least, not outwardly, or around her. But she nods and let’s Shitty guide her to the reading room. It feels weird, like most interactions with Shitty do nowadays, letting Shitty hold her hand and drag her away from a party. It feels intimate and she doesn’t like that her mind is thinking of different scenarios where Shitty drags her to her room, closes the door and let’s her kiss him within an inch of his life.

She keeps these thoughts to herself when they’re sitting on the roof. Shitty’s looking out at the campus, and she’s being a cliche and looking at him. He’s nice to look at, especially now that she doesn’t see him often because he’s at Harvard now. “I missed this,” she whispers, and her voice seems to echo in the quiet that’s stretched between them. “You, us, being together.”

“I did too,” he whispers back and turns to look at her, looking almost fond in the low light. His eyes are bright, the street lamps reflecting in the green of his irises. Her stomach flips.

“It’s not the same without you, ya know? I can’t call you to help with my art at two am anymore, and-” her voice starts getting watery towards the end so she snaps her mouth shut. Shitty must notice, and of course he does, so he slides an arm around her, pulling her into his side, rubbing circles where his hand rests on her arm. And the silence is back, but this time it’s comforting. Just like it always is. God. What would she do without him? If they weren’t LardoandShitty? She doesn’t know, and she doesn’t ever want to find out. “I love you, you know that right?” Shitty asks, his voice rumbling right next to her head. “I know. I love you too Shits,” she replies, decidedly ignoring the pain in her chest because she knows he only means it platonically, like always.

“No, like I am in love with you,” he says and coughs nervously. “Like, romantically.”

Her heart stops. He’s always been chirped because of this crush he’s supposedly had, but that’s not love. Not the love she’s wanted from him since who knows how long.

“And I know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay Lards. I don’t expect you to. I know that in our cisheteropatriarchy men often expect their romantic intentions to be returned and I don’t want you to feel any obligation to return mine either. It’s just—Harvard is lonely and it’s Valentine’s day and seeing Ransom and Holster sort their shit out made me realize. You’re it for me. I want to spend my life—umpgfh.”

Shitty’s rambling is brought to a swift end with Lardo turning her head and touching her lips to his. He freezes for a moment before sighing against her lips and relaxing into her arms. His hands come up to tangle in her hair and gently frame her jaw. It’s not the longest kiss she’s ever had, but as far as first kisses go, this was pretty good. She slowly pulls away, watching as Shitty’s eyes open to stare at her and his face breaks into that huge smile that she loves seeing on him. “I love you too, you dolt,” she laughs at him. His grin widens if that’s even possible. “I got that brah. And if you don’t mind, I would like to communicate my feelings to you some more, preferably with some making out involved,” Shitty winks at her and she’s laughing, probably hysterically, but she’s too happy to care.

She nods her consent and he leans back in, not completely kissing her yet because he’s waiting for her to make the final move. Laughing again, the joy bubbling in her chest overflowing, Lardo closes the distance between them.

And yeah, it kind of feels like fireworks going off, but she finds she doesn’t mind cliche romance if it’s with Shitty.

#i just love shitty and lardo’s dynamic #hope i did a good job capturing it #i wanted to do it justice #they’re just so 💕🥰#shardo #shitty/lardo #shitty knight #shitty #lardo duan #lardo #omgcp #shitty and lardo

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vegetalass · 4 years

Note

hcs of the gang being quarantined in one big house together maybe?? 🥺 lub ur writing

i lub u, anon!!🥺 sorry this took forever!

General

Oh my godddddddddd

They had to stop doing movie nights because there was too much fighting

They tried to set it up such that everyone got a turn to pick a movie but there were still complaints

Now, movies are viewed at random and the policy is that

1. The TV is first come first serve

2. You have to announce when you’re using it

3. Anyone is allowed to join you

This has stemmed into multiple people shouting “IM WATCHING _____” at random times

And yes, people will try to hide the remote (mostly Sean)

If they can find it, that is

The lines between public and private property have been blurred. Everything must be labeled or there is a chance someone will take it

You can risk it, but it’s not recommended since they’re all dudes and will most likely eat anything

And even with your name on a box of graham crackers, there’s still a chance someone will stick their hand it in and steal a few

All the dudes walk around in their Long Johns like it’s not awkward

They have to do their own laundry so everyone is missing socks

Or they have extras

And wet laundry is constantly being left on the ground if it’s unattended and someone needs the washer

Arthur

This dude double dips

He licks the spoon and puts it back in, too

Gets yelled at a lot for this, but never remembers to stop

Everybody is afraid to touch all of the dips now because of this

And Hosea has to start buying separate ones just for Arthur

He’s the one who takes 3 hour baths

I imagine that there’s multiple bathrooms in the house but not enough for everyone so there are definitely times when people are like “WTF, Arthur you’re still in there?” or “Where’s Arthur?”

Usually it’s Charles or John because they don’t mind sharing a bathroom with each other

Cue Arthur having accidentally fallen asleep in the tub

But yea he’s just chilling in there, otherwise

Started the quarantine off by trying to fix up the house… But immediately got lazy

There’s probably a number of things he keeps saying that he’ll “get to, eventually”

The only reason Dutch hasn’t called someone is because it’s a PANDEMIC

Technologically challenged

Barely knows how to turn on the TV and still uses an iPhone 5 that has pretty much stopped working

John has given up trying to explain how to make things fullscreen on YouTube

Because of this, probably spends most of his time wandering around the yard and reading or journaling

Tilly even bought him some scrapbooking supplies, which he’s been trying to use

Little washi tapes and highlighters because she knows it can’t get too complicated too fast

She also makes him an Instagram account so he can take photos or post art

But figuring out how it works is a losing battle, and he never remembers to use it, anyway

“I think we should get a pet”

Everyone: “Arthur... Do we look like we take care of ourselves?

If anyone tries to talk about how annoying the quarantine is, starts ranting about people who refuse to take it seriously

And the conversation ends up spiraling into him blaming capitalism for everything

John

Every other meal he eats is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or Doritos

He does that thing where he wraps a bowl or plate in plastic wrap so he doesn’t have to wash it

Doesn’t clean up after himself

Leaves used tissues, slimy butter knives with PB on them, and crusty socks laying around

Unluckiest of them all

His snacks get taken the most, the bathroom is always occupied when he needs it, never gets to use the TV, his laundry is always moved, etc.

Always ends up using the bathroom when there’s no toilet paper

Texts Arthur for help and then makes an announcement in the group chat about “common courtesy”

Nobody replies

His texts are full of messages to Abigail that all say the same thing

“Help.” + “Please come get me” + “I hate it here”

They’re all left on read except for the occasional response asking if he needs anything from Target

The list he sends back is like four paragraphs long and it’s all dumb stuff

He’s like “FaceTime me when you get there, I wanna go shopping too”

Doesn’t even really want to leave the house for necessities, so he has to do stuff like water down his soaps or steal other people’s toiletries just to prolong how often he needs to go shopping for himself

He’s the one using Irish Spring from the dollar store mixed with water or a block of orange Dial soap that hasn’t been touched in five years

Charles tries to throw away an empty hand soap and John is like “THERE’S STILL SOAP IN THERE LOOK” *mixes water with it*

Steals razors and Shampoo

Thinks conditioner is “unnecessary” and “doesn’t do anything”

Complains about being bored but doesn’t bother to do the things people that people offer

Charles

Voluntarily becomes a recluse

Not because he wants to but because everyone else is too annoying to deal with

He’s forced to start using the internet and when he’s not on the computer he’s trying to block out the noise of the 8 other men he lives with just living

Going on walks is his other hobby

Also probably buys one of those adult coloring books to color

Like Athur, Charles hogs the bathroom

It’s not as bad as Arthur since he’s not in the tub for the whole time but he really will spend an hour getting ready in the morning for absolutely no reason

If anyone asks about it he just tells them that since they’re in quarantine there’s no reason to rush

But he does get yelled at if there’s no other bathrooms available

Becomes a self-care connoisseur

Walks around in a bathrobe and face mask just to try and achieve some sort of zen

Literally the only one who doesn’t walk around half naked

Besides Hosea, the one of the only guys who tries to wake up on time and eat three healthy meals a day

The house is entirely dark and he’s eating toast while Hosea makes coffee

It’s awkward, not because they’re weird about each other but because no one else is awake and it’s quiet for once

Dutch is the third person up and Charles leaves the kitchen by the time he’s around

Gave up trying to do the dishes and only cleans what he uses

Sometimes if he feels like being nice he’ll do Arthur’s dishes, too

But only if he gets something back in return, like Arthur doing his laundry or something

The only one who changes his bedsheets on the regular

Him and Kieran are the only ones trusted by Hosea to leave the house safely

Micah

Everyone is surprised Micah isn’t dead yet

Everyone is constantly fed up with him for something or for just being irritating

And try to ignore him for the most part, which is hard

Tries to defends himself with “Well, you don’t have to bother me if you don’t want to”

Doesn’t clean up after himself, either

John leaves more mess, but Micah does worse stuff

While John just leaves his dirty peanut butter knives around, Micah does stuff like forget to put the mayo back in the fridge, leave the bread bag out and open, forgets to bring his used dishes to the dishwasher, throws his trash in other people’s trash cans, leaves his wet laundry in the dryer, etc.

If it’s annoying and gross, he does it

And tries to eat food that other people have made for themselves or don’t want to share with him

Dutch is the only one who shares with him willingly

Does not pick up his hair from the bottom of the shower

And doesn’t clean the sink after he shaves

Honestly, I doubt any of the drains in the house work properly because so much shaving goes on

It’s honestly surprising to everyone that he takes the quarantine seriously

Accuses people of being sick even though all of them have barely left the house…

Wears a mask inside when he’s feeling salty

He doesn’t even care about the mask, it’s just to make people feel gross and bad about themselves

Besides Sean, he’s always trying to hog the TV

And everything he watches is annoying, pretentious, or both

Complains about there being “nothing to watch” despite always having something on and refusing to stop

Tries to smoke inside and literally always get busted for it

Even if other people are doing it too, he’s the one who doesn’t even bother to be by a window when he does it

His room is always off limits

If you need something from him you need to knock and wait in the doorway

Also does the “You’re too close… Step back, please” thing

And if anyone gets mad, says it’s a pandemic and he’s just trying to be SAFE

Mostly does this to feel powerful

Turns in to Uncle Jr. with all the complaining and berating he does

Uncle is honestly offended

Hosea

The only person allowed to do the shopping

He gave up trying to give people lists because the groceries they came back with were never right

Either too few, too many, not the right stuff... You name it

See here for more

That’s why, despite being the oldest, he’s the one who goes grocery shopping for meals twice a week

Refuses to buy alcohol because of incidents that they’ve had

Can’t stop people from sneaking it, though

Similar to Dutch in that he gets annoyed when people oversleep, but because its quarantine, he tries to not mention it, and at the worst, gets passive aggressive

Tries to make a chore chart for people to follow but it gets ignored

He ends up having to force people to do things by reminding them constantly

He’s the one who starts opening people’s doors in the morning and turning on the lights

Makes everybody start eating on paper plates with plastic silverware because he’s tired of trying to make people use the dishwasher

Arthur doesn’t know how, John doesn’t put his plates in the right place, Charles refuses to since no one else contributes to keeping it neat, Micah doesn’t even know they have one, Kieran also can’t fill it correctly...

Basically, it’s too much for Hosea to handle

His dinners are all Costco pre-made meals that can be made quickly

Frozen lasagna and prepackaged salad type stuff

He’s the guy who falls asleep on the couch sitting up while watching TV and if you try to talk to him he says “I’m awake” without opening his eyes

And if he’s using it, don’t even think about suggesting to change the channel

The answer is and always will be no

Even when he’s not really paying attention

And it’s either on the History Channel or Discovery Channel

Always complaining about how cold his feet are

Doesn’t let anyone touch the thermostat

He’s an in real life Elf on the Shelf

Dutch

If anyone, and I mean anyone starts sleeping in, he gets in a really pissy mood

“While I’m up, doing work for you, you’re sitting in bed being lazy!!!” and “What do you mean you don’t understand why! Why should I have to tell you why wasting the day is annoying to all those who are working!”

Even despite this, he can’t actually change the fact that no one wakes up on time

And it’s not like the work he’s doing for them is very important

He’s the one who thinks that a pandemic is the perfect time to be or do something useful

Eat healthy, write a book, pump iron… Anything

And when people complain about being useless he’s like “You have all this free time!!!1! Stop complaining!!! You can do anything!!!”

And if he’s doing something he considers useful, yells at people who try to bother him

Arthur: “Hosea wanted to know-”

Dutch: *doing sit ups* “CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY?”

When it’s his turn to cook dinner, he’s making 8 boxes of Trader Joe’s mac and cheese in a huge pot and calling a meal

Literally the only meal no one complains about

He won’t clean the pot when it’s finished, though

Literally just cooks and leaves it out for someone else to deal with

Another self-care aficionado

Also walks around in a bathrobe and face mask

He’s worse than Charles though, because while Charles wears pants... Dutch will be booty ass naked under his

Also keeps trying to make homemade masks and scrubs and walks around in those, too

He’s like “This is a good one, I can tell already”

Everyone: “Dutch... is that... mayo... in your hair?”

Annoyingly good at monopoly

Does not invite Molly over and gets yelled at over FaceTime

Cue everyone eavesdropping on their arguments

Goes on power walks

Yells at people when they listen to loud music with swear words

Honestly, always yelling at people

“Can somebody get me my slippers? Arthur? John? Hosea? AnYoNe!!!”

Kieran

Spends the least time in the bathroom because he’s afraid of getting yelled at

Does everything in five minute increments

Except for showers, when he allows himself ten minutes

Barely

Most of what he eats is just microwave popcorn and shredded cheese

He’s the one asking people if they want to go on “family walks” with him

Literally no one joins him

Also tries to play board games with everyone

This goes a little better at least because Hosea will sometimes play and if he’s there, a few people will definitely join

Very bad at monopoly

The most conscious about wearing a mask

The others wear them but Kieran is the one who wears double masks, gloves, and carries around Febreeze

Also will get mad if anyone forgets their “safety equipment”

Or if they’re within six feet of him in public

Props to him though for staying healthy

I’ve mentioned this before, but... Spends most of his time playing games on a big tablet wearing headphones

Candy Crush and FarmVille and Words with Friends and stuff like that

Though all of his internet friends are weird old ladies he doesn’t know

Everyone is mad at him for sending non-stop game notifications, too

Hosea is the only one who responds to any of them

He’ll never admit this, though

Also tries to start doing arts and crafts

Mary-Beth started telling him about the various crafts she’s been doing, so he’s started trying to follow along, too

Things like crocheting or popsicle stick art

His stuff all looks bad, but he’s just happy to be doing it

And to be FaceTiming Mary-Beth

When he gets to choose a movie, he’s picking a “family-friendly” movie like Inside Out or Lilo and Stitch

Everyone starts out being mad but they all end up watching the whole thing without complaining

Heated debates ensue, too

For example, like about whether Flynn should’ve cut Repunzel’s hair in Tangled

“YOU’RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME THAT I’M WRONG?”

Charles + Arthur vs. Dutch + Bill

Makes meatloaf or Hamburger Helper like once a week

They’re basically the only thing he knows how to make

Sides with Arthur when he suggests getting a pet

Wears a Snuggie

Doesn’t change his socks

Javier

Plays his own music very loudly and won’t turn it off or down if you ask

Either that or he’s practicing guitar

It’s not really that bad but when you can’t escape it.... People get mad

The only saving grace is that the singing is usually in Spanish so it’s not as bothersome

The door to his room is always closed

Refuses to open it

To talk to him, you have to knock and then he’ll exit

Dutch is the only one allowed in and he thinks Javier’s rules about entering are creepy so never does it

Javier cooks his own food and won’t share

Only makes enough for exactly one person so even if he wanted to, there’s not enough

Eats dinner in his room to prevent people from bothering him or asking for some

However, he has the biggest stash of quarantine snacks…

No one knows where he gets them

And getting him to share is like trying to do a drug deal, but he’s not against it as long as he gets something in return

He didn’t personally cook all these snacks so the rules are different

His room is full of scented candles to make it smell better since the whole house kinda smells like Boy

Buys a gamer chair at the start of quarantine

Claims it’s more comfortable than the office chair that Dutch and Hosea chose for everyone

Everyone is jealous

Wears fuzzy pajama pants only

Sean

Sean is the one sleeping in

Never sleeps in his bed and just falls asleep wherever, basically

Usually the couch

Because he’s always snoozing, he’s the one who watches the most TV

Micah claims this isn’t “fair,” despite doing the same thing

And even if he’s not watching TV, he’s just using the couch to watch Tik Toks full volume

Tries to make his own Tik Toks, but they either stink or no one wants to participate

Constantly having people get mad at him for recording them

Stopped wearing clothes the moment quarantine started

Always in a tank top and his underpants

It’s kinda weird

People cared at first but by now they can’t be bothered to complain since they’re

1. Used to it

2. Probably start doing the same thing

Leaves his laundry laying around

Also won’t share anything he’s eating

Gets mad when people steal food

Doesn’t address anyone in particular though, just walks around yelling about how “nobody has the common decency not to steal”

Has food delivered almost every other day

No one knows where he’s getting the money from, either

Everyone think it’s a waste

Mostly because he doesn’t share, but also because all hell broke loose when Hosea found out about an expense called “delivery fees”

Also has a stick up his ass about wasting food

Started yelling about this randomly, too

If he can’t force someone else to finish leftovers, he forces himself to finish them

Probably gets caught watching a certain type of nasty video a lot

Lowkey it probably happens to everybody at least once

Yells at anti-maskers

Tries to wrestle the other boys and gets his ass handed to him

Bill

Possessive of everything

Usually he’s not this bad but being cooped up with a bunch of thieves and liars doesn’t make him confident that his Circus Animal cookies will last very long

Doesn’t share anything and very adamant about making sure there’s labels on things so nothing gets mixed up

Also makes his own space in the fridge with tape

BILL’S SPACE DO NOT TOUCH

And will start yelling in anything is moved

Not as bad as Sean though because he only cares about his own stuff

The whole thing is super hypocritical though, because he definitely steals other people’s stuff

If he gets caught, claims “it’s only fair”

Hosea has to buy him soap because he won’t buy it himself

Definitely the one who learns how to make prison hooch with cranberry juice and yeast

And the one who eats all of the ice cream

Even the nasty flavors

Wears the same clothes everyday because since he’s not working, “they’re not dirty”

They start getting holes in them, though

If anyone tries to suggest something for him to do, he gets mad and claims he “knows how to entertain himself”

Also constantly accusing people of being in his space or business

Ends up starting a ton of fights over this and then complaining about how mean everyone is to him

He’s not doing it on purpose, though

Ends up buying some kind of gaming console to pass the time

If he buys an Xbox, he shares with the rest of the boys

If he buys a nintendo switch, he starts playing Animal Crossing and doesn’t put it down for weeks

Out of everyone… He’s the one who takes the pandemic the least serious

He follows the rules because he doesn’t want to be eaten alive by any of the boys, but he probably thought the virus was a hoax at first

He learned his lesson the first time he tried to go out without a mask and got locked in the car, though

Forgets to flush the toilet

His room is dirty

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 headcanons #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 #arthur morgan #HOPE U ENJOY ANON SORRY IM SLOW #and will probs continue to be slow #my car broke down at mcdonalds today LOL and by the time it got fixed mcdonalds WAS FUCKING CLOSED #i was so sad my mom actually ended up taking me to a different one #but they didnt have what i wanted LOL #but it was fine bc i was happy with just fries #also y'all.... my sink is fixed and let me tell u #I AM NEVER PAYING FOR A PLUMBER AGAIN #i took that bitch apart and snaked it myself #and enough hair to make a wig came out of it but she was fixed #and i saved so much money my mom bought me lunch as a reward #LOL #anyways i love u all thanks for reading hope this shows up in the tags and u like it #i hope i put enough!!#and lmk if i should republish in a new format #i keep getting scared to make a new post and not answer anon directly #oH WELL JUST CATO PROBLEMS #also went back to work and it was... fine i guess #idk #Anonymous

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 40

Three days and the negatives were returned to you on a joint trip with the catering crew who were purchasing some more supplies in Alberta to have the best and some spares in case of emergency for the big day to go seamlessly. Already in long sheets of continued copies the images with the descriptions had been set aside to be cut later today while the bindings were being readied for when the images were cut. Lights and garlands were already being assembled through the cathedral and barn with stands for where the flowers would be secured. Tables were quadruple checked for spacing and locations through the barn you met James in the task to end with an amusing first tasting from the caterers for a lovely dinner for two finished off with a miniature sample cake that would be replicated larger for your wedding day.

Smiles and bashful stolen kisses led to a mock honeymoon evening once he got you home, bathed and rubbed down lovingly. Morning came and with it the beginning of another round of work in the larger manor, eventually you hoped to move in but until that big day it would be used to house the Brocks and Father Thomas while Professor Randolph would stay in your cabin along with Erik and Edie. Beds and supplies were loaded into the manor to have it guest ready for all the arrivals. Two weeks and in the middle of walking out of the house for another day arms looped around you with Dot and her cousin tugging you to the waiting car for an in town spa day to get your nails done, hair trimmed and a first try for the braided bun style helping to distract you from the hectic day following. Everyone was arriving and could only add to the growing momentum of the week would give way hopefully with ample loving people to add to the efforts to get everything done.

“Where’s our Marigold?!” The echoes through the main floor of the cabin opening your eyes a moment before sighing and settling back into James’ tightening arms keeping you against his chest with an irritated grumble. Louder the noise grew spoiling the late morning in you had hoped to have having timed their promised departure time clearly having been moved up to get here sooner. Thundering footsteps sounded up the steps and doors were opened until over the pair of you several bodies scrambled to dish out hugs and animated greetings to goad you both out of bed and to get dressed.

Alone and on your feet they left you to smooth your hands over your face in their race out as you said, “I’m up, I’ll find my pants.”

Their cheers faded and with a smirk your shirtless fiancé eased closer to you smoothing his hands around your middle lowering your hands. Warm and loving his lips found yours drawing you into his chest to guide you into the bathroom he locked the door for a long break before joining the collection of Brocks downstairs who pulled you into excited hugs. The smile you would hold split across your face hearing Mamma Brock saying, “Sorry Pop couldn’t make it, as we can’t risk the cameras.”

“Oh that’s fine.”

“But he will be watching,” Gina added with a nod.

Ambrose asked, “Where’s your cousin and aunt?”

“They’re coming a bit later with one of the band members, he had to make a trip to Alberta he’s gonna pick them up on the way back.” Mamma Brock’s focus turned to Norma to get her off her feet and comfortable while you claimed hold of Teddy to help Eddie join the gaggle of relatives to locate the manor that they would unpack their things into. They weren’t gone very long and returned with Father Thomas who was admiring the yard and garden around the cabin and came inside to travel to the church. Though to your shock you smirked seeing Elliot at his side sharing his own adoration of your property and home.

His smile crept wider in your accepting the Father’s greeting and he accepted your gentle handshake patting his hand on the back of yours saying, “This is such a lovely home.”

“Thank you, you flew in early?”

Father Thomas moved past you catching sight of Margaret to greet the infant and lowly Elliot said, “Used the BiFrost, hope you don’t mind. I am not trusting the planes available, hours trapped in their smoke filled tuna cans.”

“Oh no, no problem, is the big H good with, that?”

Softly he chuckled saying, “Heimdall is a giant caramel candy. Come on, even he won’t miss this day. This is historic, last time you were bound before physical essences were settled upon we get to watch the predestined crowning.”

“Please don’t make the wedding seem like some pre historic runes etched into a great ruin somewhere.”

“They’re on Asgard,” he said earning a chuckle inducing groan from you in a turn to show him to his room.

“I’ll show you your room.”

“I did mean it, this is a lovely home.”

“I wasn’t doubting that,” you chuckled replying in the turn down the side hall he was taking the first room on the right. “But you should see the manor the guys were hiding from us.”

“Heimdall gave me a visual tour. Seems perfect for when you have more children.” Onto the bed he settled his suitcase and turned post inspecting turn of the room to return with you to the group. Soothingly saying, “You are so very precious to us. We won’t allow anything to spoil your day. Now, let’s go and publicly welcome the newest Pear to the brood.”

“And here I thought finding out my dad was actually Jewish and let me be raised Catholic was the most difficult loose end for a wedding to be planned for me. Never would have guessed alien Queen might trump that.”

“Oh you are not an alien,” he said luring your eyes to him again, “Aliens have hooved tentacles, three heads and a form of communication involving the release of bodily gasses and interpretive dancing.”

“Wow,” you said in a flat sarcastic tone.

“Not even green, they turn every color but green which is quite the insult of a color for someone to turn in their realm.” He looked your face over saying, “They however would always take compliment on knowing you borrow the misused mortal term to label yourself in opposition to their race.”

“There you are Bunny, you can ride with us, along with your Professor Elliot.” Gina’s Husband said earning a nod from the man at your side who was pleased to see the town on the ride over and namely the church with telling stained glass murals recognized from the foretelling runes none could translate until now.

“How is the book coming?” rippled around next in the bed of the truck you had been squeezed into.

And you answered, “They’ve started binding them, this part is the longest.”

Elliot said, “Well I’ve planned on ordering a copy of my own when it comes out and have called in the news to the Barnard Professor phone tree for those on the Spring and Summer course duties who will no doubt pass on to the others in no time.”

“It’s just a copy of the same ones I took at school.”

Gina said, “You are gonna have a book! Not the same!”

Ambrose, “Not at all! Everyone in our block wants a Bunny book.”

“It’s eight bucks.”

Gina’s husband said, “Plenty of time to save for that. Two copies are going in the town library I can bet you that.”

Ambrose’s husband said, “And even in the Public Library you love if we have to sneak copies ourselves and stash them in the art shelves.”

“Oh I can just imagine those headlines when they are found. Not a thievery but cluttering the shelves of the Public Library with picture books.”

Gina, “You live in that library, the Librarian alone would find a spot for your book after signing her copy.”

Ambrose asked seeing the outside of the church, “That the church?”

You said, “Yes, you should see the inside.”

As soon as the cars were parked the family all poured out of the vehicles and Victor led the way through the front doors with Father Thomas beside him sharing about the church room uses until you got to the cathedral that dropped jaws. For an added surprise also a bit eager to have arrived early Erik and Edie followed the town murmurs and were dropped off here after a stop at the cabin to leave their bags there. Pleased for his preparedness with a thermos and flask of holy water on his person, around the baptismal stand you all encircled. Against James’ side you leaned with view of your niece being blessed and named while Teddy watched on Victor’s hip more than a bit confused.

“I baptize thee, Marigold Dove Pear,” The Father managed to get to before Teddy cut in.

“Small tub, we need more tub.”

Victor chuckled with the others and Victor tried to hushedly simplify that this was a special tradition for babies in the family after they’re born. “Keeps you safe.”

Of course that led to a halfway logical conclusion from the boy that bedtime baths were some form of protection and then had him asking where the magical soap was for her protecting bubbles, as he had never had a bath he could remember without bubbles. Ambrose’s husband took him on a stroll through the church in search of some magic soap with the excited other kids who just wanted to look around now that the pictures and everything was done leaving you giggling in James’ hold to his agreeing chuckles.

Father Thomas however when your giggles ceased drew your eye saying with a smile, “What better time to have a quick run through. Have you got your wedding license yet?”

James glanced at the Judge who snuck in saying, “Got it right here, managed to get the both of them their request form last week and this came in last night.”

The Priest smiled saying, “Good, very good,” accepting the folded license he added to the front cover of his bible. “Ok, so now bridal party? Full run through just to dust things off.” Everyone lined up and nicely Victor sat Norma down by the Brocks to let her rest her feet again while the Father nodded his head knowing Victor and Dawn were your two chosen witnesses.

The rest of the family split to fill the seats you gestured to, “This side’s for family,” Your eyes fell on Edie and Erik saying, “If you’ll join us, guess we can do the whole walk up.”

Father Thomas chuckled guiding James to his spot near the steps of the alter and turned to go with the rest of you to the doors at the other end of the hall where he said, “I go in first. Chosen children to scuffle their way down,” spreading smirks through the group in your stolen glance to James at the other end of the hall trying to ignore his urge to force this along and sign the license and be at least legally married already. “Then Victor and Dawn as Witnesses, then?”

You said, “Dot and David,” the pair nodded and linked up with Dot’s cousin and Erik next at your naming them with Gina and Ambrose next beside their husbands, all already on the verge of crying. You murmured teasingly, “No blubbering or none of us will get through this or the actual ceremony.” Luring their grins out and the Father nodded as you said, “And Eddie and my aunt are both walking me down.” You confirmed with a glance at her she answered with an agreeing nod she still wanted to.

Right behind the Father the lot of you made your way on more of a casual stroll back to the alter where two of the women adjusting flowers moved the traditional kneeling stools into place for you both the Father nodded in thanks, “Ah, yes, thank you. Brother and Aunt lift veil and move to their seats in the front,” he said taking your hand to guide you up to James’ side as the others filled up the front row of the family side of the pews. “The both of you would go up to the stools and kneel,” his head turned to Gina and Ambrose saying, “Two lovely scriptures have been given to Gina and Ambrose, there is the first song between them, the pair of you stand and Hallelujah to follow. I read, you kneel again.” he said pausing with a smile he struggled not to show, “Let’s you rest your feet for my main speech. Which I do believe won’t be a bit too long winded for our special guests unfamiliar with our ceremonies.”

Victor said, “They’ll survive the evening,” earning a few chuckles in return.

Father Thomas says, “Now the both of you face the congregation, and Bridal Party comes out on your sides.” Bridesmaids on your side came into place with the Groomsmen down the steps and in a sort of circle open where the Father would stand as Eddie confirmed for Edie she could remain in her seat beside him. He turned to the empty spot watching James’ hand fold around your hand to calm your shared nerves.

“James and Jaqiearae you have come together in this church so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love. In the presence of the church’s minister and this community. God has abundantly blessed love. He’s consecrated both of you. He now enriches and strengthens you by the sacred sacrament. So that you can assume the duties of marriage in mutual and lasting fidelity. And so I ask both of you now to state your intentions.

James, Jaqiearae, have you come here freely and without reservation? To give yourselves to each other in the sacrament of marriage? Will you say I Do?”

His brows rose and you both chuckled repeating, “I do.”

“Will you love and honor each other as husband and wife for the rest of your lives? Will you say I Will?”

Both say, “I will”

“Will you accept children lovingly from God, bring them up according to the law of our God and of our community? Will you say I Will?”

Both say, “I will.”

“It is your intention then to enter into marriage. Turn to each other, with your still joined hands, and declare your intentions before God.”

“Now come the names, um, I forgot to ask, what is your middle name James?”

Victor smirked in James’ pausing anxious grin luring your curious grin out that split into an awkward smile at his answering, “Pluto,” clearing his throat after echoed by a loud laugh from Eddie.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said to the Father in James’ look at him in his second laugh.

James, “What’s so funny about my middle name?”

Eddie shook his head, “Oh there’s nothing funny, you just match is all.”

He looked at you and you turned your head back from a glance away and you flashed him a quick grin, “Mine’s Persephone.” Causing his smile to split wider along with those from the crowd who understood while Elliot his hid smile behind his curled fist over his mouth to keep from making any noise from excitement.

“I, James Pluto Howlett, take you Jaqiearae Persephone Pear to be my wife.

I promise to be truthful.

In good times, and in bad.

In sickness and in health.

I will love you and I will honor you.

All the days of my life.”

He smiled and repeated each line and listened to you take your turns with the same vows simply reversing the names.

“My sister and my brother you have just declared your consent. Before God and before the church, may our Lord in his goodness strengthen that consent and fill you now both with his blessings. What God joins together let no men ever sever. Amen. Amen is repeated by congregation and couple. Now, rings,”

He turned his head and you said to Erik, “We have a tray for you for that day.”

James nodded saying easing his grin out, “Yes, the rings are at home.”

Father Thomas nodded and turned miming accepting the rings from Erik and turning to the eldest of girls from the Brocks who held up her hands miming a second tray, “I take the rings to this angel’s tray, bless the rings, then turn, and offer them to the couple.” He turned around again. “James says, Jaqiearae take this ring. As a sign of my love and faithfulness. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. Eases ring on then she repeats the same and then I turn, we congratulate the couple then begin the Prayers of the Faithful. Loving couple turn again to kneel.”

He motioned his hand and Eddie helped Edie to her feet to say, “Brother and Aunt bring up the sacred wedding lasso that will be draped over your shoulders. Now I give the Euchratic Prayer, the rosary is removed, you return to your seats. Couple stands, facing the crowd for an Our Father. We embrace one another after this, James and Jaqi, you go down to embrace your family and then return for your own personal communion. After this I inform the congregation that those willing are welcome for congregations or blessings with the remainder unwilling to receive it are welcome to remain in their seats.”

His eyes focused on you, “I do believe that King George and President Truman would find than an acceptable out to remain seated.”

“Either way it’d be rude for them to just storm out.” You said making him chuckle.

“Yes, then everyone back in their seats, the both of you go to pray to the Virgin and leave the offering of flowers and then return here, I speak to you all again offering a prayer and then I introduce the both of you, and Jaqi you are taking the Howlett name?”

“Keeping both, actually.”

He smirked and nodded saying, “Good, we welcome you, then you lead the congregation out to the reception, which will be-.”

James, “In the barn.” He said and that began the trip to the reception hall.

Two days, just two days out and in a sea of pots of flowers inside a greenhouse you eyed your choice of flowers for your bouquets. Yours being blue roses and blue and white calla lilies paired with the white rose and blue orchids for your bridal party, each girl got bundles of forget me nots and daisies the following day would be cut and assembled to be fresh for the ceremony. Those would be first and the rest of the lilies and roses in bright colors were to be added to their white counterparts through the barn seating arrangements that James was keeping himself distracted to perfect how everything was lined up.

First off the filming crew took the long drive and came to set up the cameras in the sides of the cathedral well out of the way from where others would be. A group of attendants from both King George’s security and the security team for President Truman. Who both arrived and got the full rundown on the ceremony including a mention you were certain to give them both of the communion portion they were able to return and hand over the schedule to know when they could work their ways in and out of the city to return to their return flight back to Ottowa.

Off on your own under the night sky you sat alone on the roof staring off at the stars with your mind locked down from focus on the rough day ahead. A telling scent of cocoa turned your head and with a grin James was seen standing from his spot kneeling on the roof he strolled across to sit down beside you, mugs and wrapped grilled cheeses in hand. “Someone ate all the deli meat we had.”

“That’d be Timmy.” You said accepting your helping and the second mug.

“Ah,” he replied and eased his eyes over your face saying, “Big day’s going to be lovely.”

You turned your head and sighed, “You know what’s difficult about having a Catholic wedding?” His smile spread as you said, “Having it be a Catholic wedding. Up, down, up down, then there’s singing that most of the guys coming probably won’t know. Does anyone in the town actually remember what a full catholic wedding is? I’m surprised Father Thomas does with all the eloping going around Brooklyn. Now I’ve got you saddled to this.”

Lowly he chuckled and replied, “I love you and this ceremony is nowhere near as long as the weddings I grew up attending. I love you,” he repeated scooting a bit closer to you, “Your mother wanted you to have a good Catholic wedding and to be an upstanding woman in town. I want that for you, to honor her, and your family. I don’t care how many steps it takes, been six years since we met, I can go half an hour at take mass to marry you. One day, just one they can all tag in on then we get three days, you, me and that honeymoon cabin. Cuddled up in bed for mornings and we can fish and swim and laze about in the sun and warm grass.”

“Three days?”

He chuckled and said, “We can make it five, then for a time at least the whole world lets up, for a little bit.”

“We’re going to promise in front of the world to have babies, on tv, there will be people betting I’m feet up grunting nine months from tomorrow.”

That had him laugh at your shrug and lift of the mug and he said, “Well we’ll just have to bet against them then won’t we, drive them crazy and wait six years for it.”

You giggled in his stolen kiss to your temple in your lean into his side triggering his arm easing around your middle, “We are not waiting six years. Gina’s been married six years and she’s got-,”

“What she’s got, and we are not pushing babies,” he said locking his eyes on yours in your eyes locking on his face through a tilt of your head backwards, “No forced babies, no expectations. This is our marriage, not a check list. Babies arrive when they mean to Teddy is proof of that enough that one day they can just pop up like a thunder storm.”

“I still don’t want to wait six years, I’d be 27.”

He sighed and said, “Women don’t have to rush into this nowadays, women survive longer and are being nourished to survive childbirth, however, if you’re worried about being taken as a spinster,” that made you giggle and roll your eyes, “We won’t wait six years.”

“I suppose it’s a bit odd to be worried on getting pregnant when I can get shot in the chest and heal right off. Getting pregnant shouldn’t be hard. Though labor might be puzzling. I mean what happens if the baby is halfway out and my body starts healing itself already?”

That had him chuckle in your calming bite of your grilled cheese, “I highly doubt that would happen. Baby’s gonna grow inside of you, be half you, it’s not like a bullet, if anything your body would get the baby safely out and then you heal.”

“If it does get stuck, and the Doc has to do a cesarean,”

His head tilted to catch your eye, “You mean cut you?”

You nodded and said, “I mean, I should heal, if, the cut would, be safer, for the baby…”

He simply sighed and said, “Doc will make sure you both make it through safely. For now, we’re getting married tomorrow. We can talk about how we’re going to sleep tomorrow night, did you want to sleep apart?”

“Doubt I could sleep if they try to shove you in another bed somewhere, the kids have already taken up your old bed, they want to stay here because the windows show too much blue in their room.” That had him chuckle. “I think they just like the animal heads.” You said taking another bite of your grilled cheese.

“Either way the parents could use a night off, and I could always use a blindfold if you like.”

“How is that supposed to work?”

“Vic can come and pull me out in the morning.” He said and took a sip and bite while you chewed your mouthful.

Pt 41

#The Rehearsals #Brocks Arrive #Professor Elliot Randolph #James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #Baptism #Tour of the Church and Barn #Nighttime talks and worries

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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years

Text

Little Bird: Chapter 36 (NSFW)

Read one AO3. Part 35 here. Part 37 here.

Summary: Your bullet wound is tended to. Somehow, Gilead makes things like this even more awkward than normal.

Words: 6600

Warnings: woundplay, bloodplay

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hiiii! I am so glad to hear people enjoy my self-indulgence, so, here, have some more! Haha. Can't help myself, have loved this shit since I was young. Please forgive me. As usual, I am so grateful for y'all. You truly brighten my day--I feel so lucky to have what I have. I love y'all very much. I try to respond to as many comments as possible. Thank you thank you. TwT <3

You weren’t surprised that Johana was furious when she opened the door to find you, yet again in the arms of your Commander, the both of you drenched with rain and iridescent with blood.

What did surprise you was how quickly this fury crumbled into a trembling, panicked concern.

Her attention darted between your wound and his face, and she moved toward you, half-reaching toward your arm, then thinking better of it. “What--what happened?” She glared at her husband. “What are you doing here? Take her to a hospital!”

Kylo pushed past her, wet boots squeaking on the hardwood, and Johana growled, shutting the door and trailing behind him. His grip was tight, fingers pinching your flesh.

“I’m going to call the ambulance,” she said. “I’m not letting a Handmaid bleed out in our--”

He whirled on her, and you rocked with him, stomach churning with the sudden movement. “Pryde is staging a coup,” he replied. “Until I discover the reach of his influence, there is no safer place than this home.” He paused. “For her. And you.”

Silence lingered for a moment, and Johana’s expression sharpened, lips parting. Her eyes followed the grain of the wall, slow air leaking in her lungs. She glanced at the floor, horror falling like a curtain over her face.

“Commander,” she said, “I…” She swallowed with a frown. “Commander Pryde stopped by the house this morning. He wanted to speak with you. I…” She stepped toward him, chin quivering. “I told him you’d left and hadn’t informed me where you were going, I shouldn't have said anything, I’m sorry--”

“Enough.” Kylo tensed, a wall of muscle against your frame. “It’s irrelevant now. Once she is stable, I’ll be departing with the Knights.” He adjusted you in his hold. “There’s a bullet in her arm.”

Johana gazed at him, hands wringing together, and sighed. Sucking in a long breath, she stepped forward and studied your wound. Your face flushed in embarrassment, expecting admonishment, or even cruelty from her, but it was as if she’d transformed, taken on another skin. She was calculating, cataloging something as she stared, leaning on her toes, humming in thought. There was no evidence of the woman you feared in the person before you--she’d been replaced by a confident, objective analyst.

“Well, there’s no arterial damage,” she said, “she would’ve bled out already. The tourniquet isn’t necessary.” She eased closer, mouth screwing in thought. “Might’ve clipped the humerus, too hard to tell.” Eyes narrowing, she pressed her thumb to the perimeter of the wound, and you seethed--Kylo’s fingers bit into you. “It’s not infected yet. I can clean it. Stitch it. Even if we’re going to keep her out of the hospital, she’ll still need antibiotics. And to rest for at least two weeks.”

“I’ll arrange for it,” he said. “I’ll return when this is resolved. You will be responsible for her.” He shifted close, voice low. “This is an order as your husband. Do you understand?”

Johana nodded, glancing at between the both of you and then to her feet, face pink. “Yes, Commander, I understand.”

“Prepare your supplies.” He turned and strode down the hall.

Kylo carried you through the home into his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it. He eased you to the floor and popped the tourniquet from your arm--you winced at the release of pressure, the new pulse of pain through your nerves. In silence, he crossed to the bathroom, and you heard the squeal of an opening pipe, the gush of a spigot, and blushed. He was running a bath for you.

When he returned, he removed your coat--his coat, technically--and tossed it to the ground, leading you toward the bed with a gentle hand while he gathered the hem of your nightgown and drew it over your frame. It stuck to you like plastic wrapping, leaving damp stains on your skin--and you plopped on the mattress as he guided it over your ribs. He raised your uninjured limb and lifted the rest of the gown over your head, your arm, and then down over your wound. You whimpered as the fabric peeled from your aching flesh, leaving you in your soaked undergarments.

Focused, he took your legs, throwing your socks and shoes to the floor, before looking to your bra, reaching behind you and unhooking it. You were speechless, teeth chattering, pain biting like skeleton claws as you watched your Commander--the man who had just single-handedly slaughtered dozens of soldiers--tend to you like you were the most precious, most delicate creature he’d ever had under his hands. His fingers were firm, soothing you with even the slightest touch, and he met your gaze, sliding his thumbs toward your underwear, warm brandy gleaming in his eyes.

Still trembling, you nodded, and he wedged them free, fabric bunching as it rolled down your thighs, and added them to the sopping pile of clothing on the hardwood. Having finished that, he released you and began to strip himself, starting with his boots and coat, still without words as the mountain of garments grew larger. He was stoic, never once sneaking a glimpse of your body until he was nude, too.

Though you’d cum for him four times already, and though your cunt twinged from the recent stretch of his dick, it was impossible not to revere him, like this, skin smoldering in dim light. Kylo Ren’s broad, crushing power and his beauty were seemingly disparate--yet the clean strength of his body only served to accentuate the elegant curve of his nose, the petal-pink of his lips, the soft, wet waves of his hair. He returned the stare, gaze dancing over your figure, but only in quiet, worried praise, as if you were a damaged triumph of art that was his to repair.

Blinking, he broke away, and walked to check your bath. Inside, you heard the splash of water, a knob adjustment, and he appeared again, silent as he scooped you to his chest. The shivering hadn’t stopped, and now that you could see it, you noticed that the bleeding hadn’t fully stopped, either. It wasn’t a river, more of a weep, tiny trickles pushed from your pulsating flesh as it rippled with every beat of your heart. You couldn’t see the bullet in the red mess of meat--and as you crossed the threshold, you wondered how far down it had gone.

Kylo’s bathroom was wall-to-wall white subway tile, extending to the walk-in shower at the far end, the floor a pattern of black and white ceramic diamonds. The towels, too--whether hung or stowed or folded--were white and black, every accessory a silvered pewter. A ceiling light exposed the steel-grey skies outside, the room illuminated by two incandescent glass sconces above the mirror. The air was hot and thick--water half-filled a large clawfoot tub, and your Commander suspended you above it, lowering you into the bath like you’d splinter from shock.

Relief was immediate, and you sighed, an imitation of a corpse in his arms. Heat engulfed you, sucking the tension from your skin, the steady stream of the spigot drowning your anxious mind. He released you, let you float, and your head rolled along the tub, a soft, satisfied hum escaping your chest. Steam wafted into your sight, and you breathed it in, hoping to fill your lungs with its comfort while Kylo pulled up a wooden stool. He removed the towel folded on top of it and sat, adjusting until he was at your side.

Your cheeks burned as you watched him gather the towel in his hand and pass it under the spigot, mesmerized by the taut muscles in his arms, his back. It was the third time in 24 hours you’d seen him without clothing, and still you salivated for it, each time an entirely new experience to your mind. Ignorant of your admiration, Kylo wrung the towel of excess water and lathered it with soap before gazing at you, face blank--your lip wibbled, your heart skipped. If it weren’t for the gunshot wound in your arm, you’d try to prod yourself awake.

His free hand cupped the back of your neck, eased you up, while the other started at your shoulders, drawing slow, soapy circles down your mottled neck and clavicle, moving to your uninjured arm, cleansing away the cold film left by the rain. He shifted then, to your chest, sitting you straighter, and washed the mud and splattered soil from your breasts and abdomen, caressing you with the cloth, pushing the fear from your flesh. You trembled in the tenderness of his touch, throat tight with emotion you were too terrified to name.

Noticing this, Kylo shushed you, placing his lips to your forehead, murmuring something at your hairline that you couldn’t hear. Prickles of affection blazed through your nerves, your blood racing, and he sat back and lifted one of your legs from the tub, scrubbing it clean, passing the towel over the ticklish soles of your feet. You hid a giggle, wriggling from the contact, and he squeezed your ankle, holding you still until the muck was gone. One leg completed, he switched to another, untarnished section, and repeated the action with the other leg, never once breaking his attention from his task.

With both spotless, he switched sections again, and leaned you forward, rubbing soap into your back, strong thumbs pressing along your shoulder blades as he passed them, massaging down the line of your spine. You groaned, shuddering, goosebumps alight in the wake of his touch. He shushed you again, and washed you over with water, easing you back to the tub before spilling the soap clear from the rest of your body. The warmth flooded you, eyes fluttering in delight before settling on him.

His brow furrowed, and he lifted your wounded arm, coasting across it with a new patch of cloth, skimming the sensitive skin, brushing away the sludge and caked blood, revealing fresh, pink flesh. Your free limbs tweaked, and you grimaced in pain, but kept otherwise still, choosing to fixate on his pursing lips, how meticulous he’d become in his movements. Baffling, how this one man was both the blunt-end of a bludgeon and the precise feather fountain-pen--as deft with his hands as he was deadly. The last of the grime was wiped free, Kylo scrutinized his work, folded the towel over, and wet a clean swatch.

He then cradled your head, weaving through your hair, focus following his fingers while he wiped your storm-smattered face, swiping at your lips, under your lids, the rust smeared on your chin. As he dabbed your nose, he glimpsed you, and your lungs stalled in memory of the first time he’d done this--the first time he’d ever made you feel human, the first time he’d ever made you feel cherished. You gazed at him, your chest thumping with an appreciation so swollen you were afraid it would split through your sternum at a pinprick’s pressure. Kylo blinked, averted his eyes, and with a soft pat of your cheek, he sat back, appraising, his own face still sullied with crusted crimson.

Words wouldn’t find you. You grabbed for the towel instead, taking it from him and sitting straight. Swallowing your nerves, you preened the loose strands of hair from his face and swept the cloth over his forehead, down his nose--he froze under your touch, his irises clouded with confusion. Hands quaking, you continued, smoothing over his cheekbones, along the line of his jaw, scraping away the remnants of battle. His mouth twitched, his throat knocked, and when you finished, you draped the towel over the tub’s edge.

Finally meeting his stare, you exhaled, stroked his face with your thumb, tracing the edge of his scar. It was lithe, almost lovely in its length, cresting down his neck and over his collarbone, a rose-gold crack on his alabaster skin. Yet what made it beautiful was its origin, its legacy--the knowledge that he’d earned it in the act of saving you.

His eyes were liquid amber, gilded rims glimmering with a feeling you could only identify as gratitude, a reflection of the recognition you felt in your soul. It was an acknowledgement that in this mire of madness, you were thankful for each other, thankful that through the suffocating strangle of Gilead’s air, you’d discovered breath in the other’s embrace. He glanced at your mouth, and you wet it--something distant and familiar lingered on your tongue. Before you could give it life, Kylo tugged you by the neck and against his lips.

The kiss was tentative, exploratory, his mouth skipping over yours, testing your need, ghosting tingles at your nerves. You whimpered into him, clutching the back of his head, skating nails over his scalp as you returned his ardor, your tongue out slipping to taste him--he tilted his head, capturing you, his own tongue rolling slowly over yours. A quiet groan escaped him, and he pulled you closer, holding your head in both of his enormous hands, one stroking through your hair, the other keeping you still as his mouth grazed you. Your thighs braced together, forcing friction as fire dripped like oil between your legs.

Kylo guided you back to the tub, chasing you, never increasing his insistence, taking time to brand you in dedication, rather than desire. Humming with pleasure, his tongue slid past your teeth, and the hand in your hair glided down your neck, over your shoulder, gripping it, as if to prove you were alive. You shivered, worked your lips over his like he was to be savored, flesh plumping from the pressure--underneath the running water, the only noises were your and his hidden breath, and the slick sound of your meeting mouths. Passion crept through you now, signaling a need that, despite having been more than sated this morning, was happy to awaken from its slumber.

You shifted closer, growing needy--the sudden movement speared your arm with agony, and you yelped, breaking the kiss. Kylo nuzzled you with his forehead.

“Do you want relief?” His hand traveled from your shoulder, inching down your chest. “From the pain.”

Tremored, eager air left your lungs. “Yes.” You nodded. “Please.”

He pressed his lips to yours as his hand fell to your breast, groping it absently, thumb petting your pebbling nipple. You squirmed, releasing a moan, and he silenced you with his mouth, kneading your tit, making your stomach tighten with hunger. Giving a nip to your bottom lip, he kissed across your cheek, huffing into your ear while his hand dipped into the water and drifted over the rolls of your belly.

“Be a good girl for me.” Long fingers crawled over your mound, and you nodded, legs parting in welcome. “There we go...”

Two digits trailed up and down your outer folds, teasing them, and you gasped, throwing your good arm around his neck--his breath was slow and quiet at your ear, the baritone resonance of his voice rumbling through you. One finger drew up your slit, glancing over your clit, and you squeaked, core clamoring for more.

“That’s it.” His mouth moved to your cheekbone, following your jaw. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He licked up your pulse. “You’re gorgeous.”

Gooseflesh erupted over your skin, vision fuzzing with joy. “Even… even like this?” You nodded toward your wound.

“Mm.” Kylo kissed your throat, prying open your folds, probing your layers. “Especially like this.”

His thumb grazed your clit, and you whined, jerking him closer--he growled and taunted your entrance, swirling a single digit in its slick, daring to press in only half a centimeter. Your hips shifted, cunt craving more, but he refused to yield, thumb passing your nub with long, torturous strokes.

“I know men who’ve broken over a bullet.” He wiggled in another half-centimeter, and you clenched. “But you haven’t shed a tear.” More kisses to your throat, suckling at your heartbeat. “My brave little bird."

Heat rushed you in waves--at this rate, he'd have you cumming without even having to go inside of you. "Why should I be afraid?" you whispered. "I have you."

His breath hitched, and he plunged in, curling inside of you--a sigh left you as you throbbed around him, even knowing one finger wouldn't be enough. You adjusted your weight on his neck, bringing him closer, letting your injured arm dangle out of the tub.

"That's right. And you’re being so good for me," he murmured. "Getting so wet. Always ready for me to make you cum..."

Kylo slipped out, then pushed back in, then out, and in again, relishing in the tight ridges of your cunt as he stretched you open. You bucked your hips, trying to fuck him in rhythm, water sloshing in the bath--but he dodged you, forcing you to meet his pace, swiping back and forth over your clit in little bolts of bliss while he exhaled in excitement.

"Relax." His mouth moved from your neck to your shoulder, teeth dragging new welts over your clavicle. "I thought you were going to be my good girl."

You swallowed and stilled. It was hard to control yourself when the rush of pleasure was numbing everything else. "I-I will. I'm sorry."

"Better." Kylo caught your lips in a brief kiss, rewarding you with a second finger, crooking them both inside of you--you cried out, spasming in delight. "Fuck. How does a cunt this little take me so well, hm?" Another kiss, lingering. "Just thinking about how tight you are makes my cock hard." He smirked against your mouth. "You know I think about it whenever I wake up. And before I go to sleep."

You whinged, lava boiling in your blood--you wanted to melt into the water, liquefy in his hands. "Oh..."

"That's right," he said. "I make myself cum every morning thinking about fucking you. And it's never enough." He was panting, kissing back down your neck, to your chest again. "I could fuck this pussy every night for the rest of my life and it wouldn't be enough…"

“Kylo…”

Your brain swarmed with that distant feeling again, dizzying you, robbing you of language, weakening your joints. You clung to him, a raft in the sea of your lust, choking back your moans as his palm rocked against you, thumb circling your clit, fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt--you let your lids close, let pleasure encompass you, let yourself submerge to his will, trusting him to give you exactly what you needed. His lips scorched your shoulder, singeing a path toward your wound, but you were too rapt to notice, too elated to care.

When he kissed it, something snapped--perhaps it was the plush of his mouth on the tender tissue, perhaps it was the ecstasy already seizing your sanity, or perhaps it was the delicious slice of pain twisting through it all. Whatever it was, you sobbed, back arching, pussy clamping down on his hand like it would sever him clean, head thrown back in a plea. Kylo stopped, purring with satisfaction, lifting his pretty, stained scarlet lips from your arm. You met his eyes, shaking, too embarrassed to say a word.

Thankfully, he appeared too engrossed to further humiliate you, kissing the top of your shoulder before falling to your wound again--he rolled his fingers inside of you, rubbing the bundle of nerves in tight, quick strokes, and let his mouth sketch the edge of your injured flesh. You winced, writhed, jaw dropping in an open, continuous pant, and he licked light lines around it, lapping the seeping blood; when you clenched again, he slipped his tongue into the hole.

Your sight went white, you collapsed in the bath, a mix of scream and squeal shredding your throat. The sensation was a knife, carving bliss into your skin, your cunt pulsing with greed as your Commander laved you from the inside. Everything blanked, your only reality consisting of the thumb caressing your stiffened clit, the fingers pumping into your throbbing pussy, the tongue digging absolute pure pleasure-pain into your veins. Your hands furled into fists, teeth cutting your lip while you fought to find yourself in the hurricane that had replaced your brain.

“Kylo,” you whimpered, as it was the only word you could remember, “Kylo, Kylo…”

“Good girl.” He moaned, lavishing hot, open kisses at the frayed flesh. “So good for me, so perfect--”

“Please.” Your lips buzzed, unsure what you were even asking for. “Please, I--”

Somehow knowing what you needed before you did, Kylo’s bloody mouth met yours, his thumb worming through your wound, and you shrieked into him--he swallowed every cry, painting iron along your tongue, kissing you in anxious fervor. Your orgasm bubbled with volcanic intensity, gravitation at your core, absorbing each spark of nerve and billowing to something so powerful that you were afraid you would shatter if it burst.

Kylo nudged his digit deeper, pain ricocheting to your cunt, while his other hand flicked your clit fast, stuffed a third thick finger into your pussy, coiling and delving and fucking you wide, and you suffocated in his kiss, winding your tongue around his, gasping, groaning, and he drove into your hole, filling everything inside--you ruptured, ecstasy exploding through you, escaping in euphoric shrieks into his throat, happily consumed by the voracity of his mouth. He led you through it, easing his thumb free, rubbing you through the aftershocks of your climax as you descended, crumpling limp in the water’s warmth, chasing his gentle, lazy lips.

By the time you’d regained control of your faculties, you’d realized he’d pulled out of you and turned off the spigot, leaving you to soak in a bath that had risen past your breasts. And he was still catching his breath--through your daze of disbelief, you saw him stroking his hard, needy cock, pounding it to his own release. Kylo sought your mouth again, but you shifted away, enthralled by the sight of your Commander, cheeks flush, jaw dropped, thrusting into his fist. He huffed with a half smirk, leaning back, allowing you to see the contractions of his stomach, the flexing in his chest.

“You like that?” He pushed the skin to the head, coaxing a drop of precum from the slit, smearing it over his shaft. “Is this making you feel good?”

Your mind was mush. All you could think to do was nod.

“Fuck…” Kylo’s pupils were blown, his chest heaving. “Then you can remember this when I’m gone. Think of me like this.” He rolled his palm around his length, tugging it faster. “Think of me fucking myself because of you.”

Saliva pooled from your cheeks, your eyes pinned to the muscular slabs of his legs, how they spread and framed his cock, long and thick and beautiful, how his hand wrapped around it with a soft shuffle, how his flesh bounced with the effort. You could see the peaking tide of unadulterated pleasure, his face obscene with it--his head dropped onto his shoulders, his thighs tensed, hand a blur over his dick.

“Fuck… fuck.” His voice was shredded with bliss. “You want to watch me cum, little girl?”

“Y-yes…”

His lids closed, he gasped. “Tell me to cum.”

You almost choked. “Christ. C-cum for me, Kylo--”

Kylo Ren snarled your name, gripping his cock as it twitched and pulsed between his legs, sticky cum shooting in spurts onto his sternum, roping over his abdomen. He groaned, jerking himself into sensitivity, sucking in a deep breath as his hand slowed, head falling forward, the tail of his climax dissipating. When he was finished, he exhaled, paused, and gathered some of his seed onto his fingers. Your throat thickened--and he held you in his stare, sucking them clean.

No words would come to you. Between the still-crackling cinders of your orgasm and the image of him eating his own cum, you’d temporarily lost your ability to speak. Kylo smirked--he kissed you a final time before tucking a lock of wet hair behind your ear and rising to his feet.

Your Commander walked to the sink and grabbed a towel, wiping away the remaining blood and cum and debris. In the valley of post-climactic rapture, watching him--this man, your savior and enslaver--you yearned for that moment in the cemetery, before you’d been shot. The moment when it seemed as if he’d considered you--a moment you felt him echo when he’d said every night for the rest of my life. You sank into the bath, that nagging, terrifying feeling welling within you again. You shoved it down, knowing that to name it while still wading in uncertainty would damn you to despair.

“Um. What you said earlier. Is that something you’d want?” you asked. “To… have me? Every night? For...” The rest of the words wouldn’t leave, stuck like impossible barbs on your tongue.

He said nothing, taking a swig of water from the sink and swishing it in his mouth before spitting it into the basin in a pink spray.

“I think we could do it.” You were being careful--but you were less afraid of his words than your own. “We could have that.”

Still silent, he took a fresh towel and rustled it through his hair, whipping excess water from the curls.

“I know you believe in destiny,” you said. “But what if you have two?” He stilled--you continued. “What if… I saw another path. Where you--where we were free?”

Kylo Ren glanced over his shoulder, considering you. There was not a single hint of emotion in his expression. Your chest tightened.

“It would make me happy,” you murmured. “What about you?”

His gaze fell, wandering the tile, the walls, until it led him to the mirror. He stared into himself, like a stranger to his own reflection, jaw steeling. Rain rattled the skylight, thunder crashing through the clouds, a rumbling of the past--he remained there for a moment, inspecting his face, searching for something, wallowing in recollection. His back crested, muscles hardened, and he tore away, eye twitching as he looked back to you.

“There are greater issues to rectify,” he said, and left the room.

Wilting, you slid deeper into the water, keeping your arm tossed over the edge. It wasn’t that you had expected him to drop it all and agree, like a hero from some romance--yes, darling, let’s steal away at midnight--but you had hoped for some concession, some inkling of hope that he wanted to sustain what was unsustainable. Yet, in the back of your mind, you both understood there was only one way he could do that. And it would involve abandoning everything he’d ever known.

The question you weren’t willing to answer was how you’d balance your willingness to wait with reality. Running was not an option, now--not as long as your Commander had both the will and the governmental power to find and keep you. No matter his compromises, the existence of Gilead meant his inherent rejection of your agency, his unwillingness to let you go, despite it being your only wish.

And every second wasted translated to years of lives hanging in turmoil. The next time you met with the Resistance, you knew you’d do whatever they asked to help them cripple Gilead. One way or the other, they would bring you your freedom. You just hoped that by the time they were ready, a time that could be days or weeks or years, he’d be coming with you.

Some might think you were asking too much--for him to relinquish his power, destroy as much as he could in the process, escape with you into anonymity--but the Kylo Ren you knew was capable of anything. You’d ask for all of it, or ultimately accept none.

Of course, you’d need to heal from this damn gunshot, first.

Kylo returned, dressed and dry, adjusting the cuffs on his coat. “Two Knights will remain in my absence. Johana will care for your wound and get you to rest.”

“Oh,” you said, starting to stand, “okay--”

“Don’t move.”

Confused, you stopped, splashing into the tub. Johana couldn’t see you naked, and especially not while you were covered in his hickeys and bite marks. “But--”

“A precaution,” he said. “To protect your temperature.”

“But...” You folded your free arm over your chest. Your options were paltry few, and inviting in a strange, possibly deceptive doctor, one without any personal investment in your well-being, seemed even less appealing. “Okay.”

“You will be safe.” He scanned your body in the bath. “Be good, little bird.”

A jumble of words waited on your tongue: Be safe, be careful, I’ll miss you, I…

Instead, you only nodded. “I will.”

He met your gaze a final time in silent regard, and turned to leave. You listened to the sound of his boots cross the floor, wondering how the water had made it into your eyes. Blinking, you wiped your cheeks. You weren’t sure how long you laid there after your Commander had left--only that when you heard the creak of the bedroom door, steam had fled the air, and your breathing had evened out.

When Johana entered the bathroom, she brought a tote with her, avoiding you entirely as she plopped it next to the sink and washed her hands. Finished that, she pushed her sleeves to her elbows and grabbed a pair of gloves from the bag, pulling them on before fishing through it again. Chewing her cheek, she procured a needle, a pair of tweezers and scissors, a few square packets, dental floss, a roll of gauze, two tiny white tubes, and a small plastic bottle of clear liquid. She laid them out on a towel, picked it up, turned to you--and nearly flung all of it across the room.

“Jesus Christ.” Her face contorted in a mix of disgust and dismay--she went to say something else, but shrugged it off, heading to the stool and sitting down.

You blushed, taking a quick inventory of your chest. Yes, it definitely looked like an animal had savaged your upper-torso--and, in a way, that’d been exactly what happened. Settling on silence, you stared at your feet. There were no words you could think to say that would ease the awkwardness of her acknowledging the evidence of her husband’s illegal affair.

Johana sighed, took one of the tubes, squeezed its contents onto a gloved finger and rubbed it over your wound. You squeaked in pain, watching as it worked into a lather before she took the bottle of liquid and squirted it over your skin (water, to your relief). Stone faced, she patted it down with gauze before grabbing the needle and one of the packets--an alcohol wipe, you now realized. You frowned.

“Wait,” you said. “Aren’t you going to… um. Remove the bullet.”

She snorted. “Not unless you’re interested in bleeding out in the bathtub.” Tearing the packet open, she plucked the wipe free. “Digging around could further traumatize the wound,” she said. “It’s safer to leave embedded projectiles where they are.”

“Oh.”

Her brow furrowed as she sanitized the needle. “Yes, oh.” Contrition flashed over her face. “Not that you had any reason to know that.”

Regret puddled in your heart--not for what you’d done, but that you’d both been placed in this hell at all. At least you’d had a distraction in the form of the Commander. Johana had been floundering alone for, maybe, the past three entire years. You knew she was miserable, knew that you’d seen a moment’s hesitation before she’d stolen the switchblade. Even if that object was long-gone, if you could soften her, even a little, maybe she’d hear you out. Maybe freedom was a possibility for all of you in the home--the Marthas included.

“I’m sorry,” you said, nodding toward your chest. “I wasn’t expecting--”

“Don’t really care.” She wound out a string of floss from its container. “The faster you get pregnant, the better.”

“Is that why you won’t report me? Or the Commander?” you asked. “You just want me to get pregnant?”

“Yes.” Narrowing her focus, she held up the needle in one hand and the floss in the other before glimpsing you. “And no.” She paused. “It’s not like you’re the worst Handmaid I’ve had.”

A reluctant grin pulled at your lips. “The dinner party?”

“Ha!” It wasn’t a true laugh--more like a squawk. “The only other person who has ever talked to Commander Hux like that is my husband.” Pride twinkled in her eye. “But seeing his reaction to you was even better.”

You chuckled. “Was he always such a bastard?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “Always.” Her mouth opened to speak, but she said nothing.

Silence descended over the bathroom; thunder rumbled under the shower of rain. Johana looked between the floss and your wound.

“Anyway, the Commander’s preoccupation with you won’t be a problem once you give birth.” She tossed it and unfurled a longer strand. “And I know you can’t help yourself anyway.”

“Ms. Johana, please.” You sighed. “Do you really care about him?” you asked. “I mean. Even after…” Invoking her dead husband’s name seemed tacky. So you didn’t.

She rolled her eyes. “What does it matter?”

You shrugged your good shoulder. “I just…” Quiet, you sought out her gaze. “You really loved him.”

“I did,” she said. “So what? He’s dead now.”

“How did you meet him?”

Johana didn’t respond, focused on threading the needle, taking one, two, three attempts before the floss passed through the eye. Blowing frustrated air through her nose, she wiped tweezers down before using it to pinch the needle. Turning to your arm, she went to poke you--and paused.

“Church.” Her voice was soft. “I met him in church.”

Using two fingers, she compressed the sides of the wound together--you flinched--and pierced the bottom, pulling the strand of floss through. It was a tiny nip, hardly comparable to the pain of the wound itself. You shook the discomfort away.

“What was he like? Ah--”

“Stop squirming.” Johana exhaled, looping the floss and making another stitch. “Very traditional,” she said. “Very organized.” A tiny smirk eked over her lips. “Very bossy.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

She fought the urge to smile. “Oh, he was funny about it,” she said. “He liked things to be a certain way. He was always teasing me for fussing until it was perfect.” For a moment, she looked content, sapphire glittering in her irises, face glowing as she slipped the needle through again. “He had high expectations. I could always meet them.”

“Oh.” Kylo Ren, you imagined, was a devastatingly unfair change of pace. “It must be hard. The Commander seems so different.”

Like fog, the facade of peace faded, revealing the vacant, tired bags beneath her eyes. “He is.” She jabbed you, perhaps a little harder than intended--you winced. “But...”

You frowned. “But?”

Johana’s hands froze, and she swallowed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

She said nothing more, face drawn in focus as she made another stitch, and another. You watched, almost in awe of her nimble fingers; you knew for certain it’d been over three years since she would have last done this, and probably longer than that. If you hadn’t known her in the context of being your Commander’s Wife, you never would have guessed it.

“Being a nurse was probably tough.”

A short, tight laugh caught in her throat. “Dealing with bureaucratic red tape and doctors all day? Yeah. I don’t miss it.” Her tone softened, and she shrugged. “But I was good at it.”

“I can tell.”

“I’d hope so. I was top of my...” She sighed, rolling her eyes again. “Whatever.” With the tweezers, she wreathed the floss in on itself, made a knot, and tied it off. “I don’t have the luxury of surgical thread.” A snip as she cut the loose ends with the scissors. “This will pop if you’re not careful.”

You nodded. “I understand.”

Exhaling, she took the second white tube and collected a clear gel from its tip, spackling it over your sutures like paste. Satisfied, she then grabbed the gauze, binding your arm in several rotations before cinching it tight. For a moment, she stared at it, and then peeled off her gloves and rolled up the towel with all of her supplies. She brought it to her tote and stuffed it inside before marching out of the room, leaving the bag on the sink.

Beyond the door, you heard her shuffling in the bedroom, and you let loose a long, disappointed sigh. She’d been a tougher nut to crack than you anticipated. It wasn’t as if you were queen of mind games, but you’d at least expected her to be intrigued by the chance to open up to anybody other than her pillow. But perhaps you couldn’t blame her for not trusting you when you kept showing up to her home with increasingly bizarre injuries.

Johana entered the bathroom again, a heavy, black robe in her arms. “I don’t have one that will fit you.” She flopped it open, held it out. “He’s never worn it, anyway.”

You stared. “Oh.”

“Don’t just oh,” she said. “Come on.”

With a wobble, you eased yourself to your feet, steadying with the wall as you stepped out of the tub and into the robe, allowing her to bundle you in it. Johana guided you with a hand on your back to Kylo Ren’s bed and observed while you climbed on.

Offering a restrained grin, you said, “I know you don’t like me. And that I keep getting hurt. But thank you.”

“It was an order. I follow them.” Her gaze traveled your figure, and she sighed, grabbing one of the pillows and fluffing it. “Look. I don’t--I don’t dislike you.” She wedged it behind your back. “I just don’t get why he keeps doing all of this. I don’t know what he sees in you.”

You frowned, face hot. For once, you actually felt insulted. “Maybe it’s because I see something in him,” you replied, bending so she could fluff another. “Something that you might not care to see, anyway.”

She balked, shoving it under your shoulders. “What are you talking about? We’ve been married for three years.”

“And you’ve never stopped loving Moden that entire time.”

Johana paused and looked at you, propped upright along the headboard. You sat there, smothered in your robe, supported by cushions, constricted in a full-body cast of cotton. Her gaze drifted to the floor, and she raised her brow in thought, folding her arms over her chest. There it was--the gap in her shell.

“Maybe it’s all for the same reason,” you said. “The fact that you still love him. The fact that the Commander seems attached to me. The fact that I keep getting caught up in... everything.” You held your breath, and let it go. “Maybe it’s all because this entire thing is just… bullshit.”

She blinked. Then glanced up. “You might be right.” Her fingers burrowed into her arms. “But Moden expected me to get remarried if he passed. And he expected me to carry on what he couldn’t.” She swallowed, jaw tensing. “I don’t intend to disappoint him.”

With that, she spun, flouncing into the bathroom to grab her tote, and crossed to the bedroom door. She met your eyes in silence before staring at the hardwood. A weight, laden with deferred, unrealized, and deadened dreams, suspended between you. Shaking her head, Johana opened the door, slipped into the hall, and shut it behind her.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #fanfiction problems #handmaid au #woundplay #bloodplay

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