#when you teach your crush how to roll dice just to hold hands

[kiwi207]

Seeing this scene animated in the donghua really gave me some feelings

So here's my attempt at drawing it ~

[shadowgale96]

Little Moments in S2E2 of Heaven Official's Blessing

San Lang's jewelry sparkling when he's amused (?) by something. This one happens when the ghost gambling bets his daughters life. Reminds me of an anime glasses character's glass shine. this happens several times through the episode and is usually accompanied by a high pitched metallic sound. Like the chime of a sword unsheathing.

The green deer demon girl is adorable. Loving the frog man too.

The wind master genderbending back into a man after being dragged to a ghost spa with the undead women and freaking out about what kinda of products they used on his precious skin.

Xie Lian physically grabbing the wind master to keep him from slipping away to find a mirror. You're on a potentially life or death mission my guy. Bring a compact mirror on your next adventure. Fast thinking on an excuse by Xie Lian though!

This guy having zero points in stealth on a mission that the emperor himself said must be handled discreetly to avoid conflict with the ghost realm.

I love how they both panic, than immediately accept Qianqiu's imminent death at Hua Cheng's hand after he continues to insult the man in his own establishment.

'This place of mine is meant for revelry. If you don't want to take the path to heaven, and break into hell, what else can you do?' Hua Cheng revealing that he knew who they were already. Which isn't surprising because they all stand out enough as is, even if his husband wasn't with them and standing within within eyesight.

Respecting the demons/ghosts for calling out Qianqiu when he said they're lacking humanity and decency. Like 'Bruh, We are literally NOT human. We don't share you're morals or sense of decency at all. Just let us live our lives.' Like, I'm actually in agreement with them.

Getting into an air bender battle, while San Lang is barely flicking his wrist at him. I like how San Lang crushes the table and sends the shards flying at him. Showing he could easily impale Qianqiu before pulling him up at the last moment. It felt like San Lang was trying to teach him. He might have recognized that Qianqiu was young and foolish, but was trying to do good. So San Lang warns him by showing him what could happen if he keeps running his mouth without knowing who he's threatening. That or he decided not to dice Qianqiu because Xie Lian was watching... could go either way

HuaLian having a tender moment looking into each other's eyes while everyone waits downstairs confused.

San Lang 100% offered Qianqiu as a prize to give Xie Lian the chance to help him and Him the chance to hold hands with Xie Lian X'D

We hear that metallic chime noise again here. I think San Lang gave Xie Lian some of is luck here. San Lang also holds Xie Lian's hands on the final round too when Xie Lian rolled two 6's and wins.

Everyone's reaction to San Lang calling Xie Lian 'Gege'. Qingxuan is curious and confused. Qianqiu looks shocked and a little embarrassed. and the grandma Pleakley looking demon's head falls off their body.

San Lang telepathically ordering his assistant to have everyone STFU while he's playing with Xie Lian.

Wind Master Qingxuan pelting Qianqiu with his fan for continuing to run his mouth.

San Lang being completely smitten with Xie Lian as he drops a man from the ceiling

Xie Lian making Qianqiu shut his mouth. Dude BE QUIET! They JUST saved you.

It was incredibly sweet how when San Lang approaches Xie Lian asking for the bet he's owed, Qianqiu steps between them and holds his arm out to protect Xie Lian from who he perceives to be a threat. Qianqiu knows he wouldn't win, but he moves to protect Xie Lian anyway. He's so foolish but so brave.

San Lang would eat stale pringles off the floor if Gege touched them,

Prince being to good for his own good again by telling Xie Lian not to lie to Hua Cheng. Despite himself not liking him at all for treating him like a pinata prize in front of everyone.

This was a very cute episode and there were so many enjoyable moments.

[artzychic27]

Family Guy incorrect quotes?

Nathaniel: Hi, my name’s Nathaniel Kurtzberg. My mom’s car just broke down. Could we use your phone?

Adrien: Now my trouble are all through… I have… A… Jew…

Nathaniel: Hey!

—

Denise: Fine, I’ll do it tomorrow right after my job as a zoo keeper with very muscular thighs.

*Cue cutaway!*

Denise: Thigh there, nice to see you all! Now as you can see right here, *Gestures to their right thigh* and here *Gestures to their left thigh* I am qualified to be a zoo keeper. *Gestures to a parrot* This is my friend, Frederick, and I am sure you’re all wondering how much I can squat. For that answer, you’ll have to go to my Instagram, YourThighness99. Now, I’d like to open up the floor for questions.

Rose: *Raises hand* Yes, what food does the bird-

Denise: Not about the bird! Now, who wants to see me jump over this fence from a standing start? Lemme scooch these shorts up a little thigher. *Rolls their shorts up and jumps over the fence*

Parrot: So, everyone happy they went to the zoo? No? Well, that’s the zoo.

—

Ivan: Alright, so we roll the dice, and then we both have to yell ‘Yahtzee’ really loud.

Kim: At the same time?

Ivan: Yeah, and you have to flap your wrists like this. *Flaps his wrists*

Kim: And you’ll do it, too?

Ivan: Of course, that’s how it’s done.

Kim: Okay.

Ivan: Alright, ready?

Kim: And you’re gonna do it with me?

Ivan: Oh yeah. *Rolls the dice*

Kim: *Flaps his wrists* YAHTZEE!

Ivan: Gay.

Kim: You suck!

—

Félix: Ello, I’d like to join the Air Force.

Pilot: What are your qualifications?

Félix: I speak in a British accent, I don’t brush my teeth, I’m possibly homosexual, and my wife is ghastly!

Pilot: *Gives Félix and aviator helmet* Bombs away!

—

Kim: Hey, Ismael. How about I teach you how to swim?

Ismael: Go... away... Kim. *Kim picks him up* Aah! What do you think you're doing? No means no! *He hangs on Kim’s arm while Kim tries to get him in the pool*

Kim: Come on, Ismael! In... the... pool!

Ismael: No! No, I don't want to die! I want to live! Live!

—

Marc: *Holds a crushed spider web in his fist* This is the most perfectly destroyed spider web.

Austin A: Where's the spider?

Marc: Knock, knock!

Austin A: Who's there?

Marc: I ate him!

—

Tom: But you know, I was just thinking this afternoon, what the hell happened to the days when a guy does something like that to a girl, and a bunch of us guy get together and just go kick his fucking ass?

Roger: Boy, that’d be satisfying.

Alim: Well… Why not?

—

Ismael: Come on, Jean! You owe me! You remember what I did for you last week?

*Last week*

Jean: *Singing* Sighing softly to the river comes the loving breeze. Setting nature all aquiver rustling through the trees.

Ismael: *Ballerina walks out from behind a tree* Through the trees…

—

Ismael: You watch that tone, Austin Q! Or I’ll get Zoé and Cosette over here to kick your butt!

Zoé: Is there a problem here?

Cosette: Yeah, you need us to use our fists?

—

Kim: Max, there’s a message in my alphabet soup! It says “oooooo”.

Max: Kim, those are Cheerios

—

Jean: I wish I was Beyoncé.

—

Ismael: So, anyway, here's Jean walking through the park minding his own business. I just happened to be there with my video camera, when a ninja shows up!

*In the video, Simon, dressed in a ninja costume leaps out from behind a tree and pretends to attack Jean with a katana before cartwheeling away*

Ismael: And then a devil came!

*Marc in a devil costume jabs Jean with his pitchfork, throws black dust at him, and runs off while Jean falls to the ground as if in pain*

Ismael: And then an evil pots-and-pans robot!

*Then Ismael wearing a bunch of pots and pans on his body arrives and fires at Jean with a fake ray gun*

Ismael in video: Destroy. Destroy. *Jean falls to the ground, seemingly unconscious*

Ismael: I imagine you're probably wondering what happened to the body... Well, we thought of that.

*Ismael runs back behind the camera and continues filming*

Ismael in video: Oh, no, Jean is dead! Wait. We might still be able to save... Oh, no! *Hums the Jurassic Park theme as he puts a toy dinosaur in front of the camera and has it pretend to eat Jean*

*The video cuts off and Ismael turns to Austin T with a solemn expression*

Ismael: We are so, so sorry for your loss.

Austin T: Is this a joke?

Ismael: I wish it were, Austin T. I wish it were a joke. But these things happen, you know? You go for a walk in the park one day and redhead ninjas and gay devils, and short pots-and-pans robots show up to kill you, and dinosaurs show up to eat the remains. You've seen the news.

—

Lila: Hello. As you all know, I’m Lila Rossi.

Marinette: Booo. Boo, Lila Rossi. Boo.

Lila: I wanna read a few words-

Marinette: Boo. Liar. Boo, Lila Rossi, booo…

Lila: Anyway, I want to-

Marinette: Boo. Apologize somewhere else. Boo. Boo, Lila, boo.

—

Nathaniel: *After he and Cosette have fought and horribly injured a mob of students* It was… A joke!

—

Denise/Cosette/Alya/Max/Nino/Austin B: *Sitting on a sofa and crying as a woman sitting in front of them stirs her tea*

Max: It was a trap.

Austin B: Everything on Groupon is just a trick to Get Out black people.

*They all sink into the couch*

Cosette: Ahh, we’re sinking!

—

Nino: And now to throw this handful of change down, because I’m a psychopath. *Throws change off the side of the building*

Austin Q: Aah! Damn it!

Ismael: Thank you!

—

Rooster Bold: Who the hell are you? Go away!

Nino: Oh, I’m sorry, are you taking a rooster shit?

Rooster Bold: I’m not defecating, you weirdo! I’m laying an egg! *Lays a golden egg*

Nino: *Gasps* A golden egg! This is what famous black rappers probably eat for breakfast!

—

Austin A: Well, you can’t have my rooster!

Rooster Bold: Okay, two men fighting over me. Neat.

—

Lawyer: Your honor, citizens of Paris, and visitors from AU Paris, my client, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir, is the victim of flagrant intellectual theft.

Canon!Kim: *Whispers to Canon!Max* I’m whispering in court to look smart.

Lawyer: But it’s not just the main writing that’s been plagiarized. Several other show variations, scripts, and design elements have been similarly infringed, resulting again and again in pale imitations, cheap copies, clumsy counterfeits, and weak substitutions.

Canon!Marinette: You like stalking boys?

SB&IB!Marinette: … Never talk to me again.

Canon!Marinette: I don’t think we’re very similar.

Canon!Nino: You know why they got us sitting next to each other.

SB&IB!Nino: Uh, ‘cause we’re the two funniest guys in our cities?

Canon!Nino: Damn right!

Canon!Nathaniel: I’m a Jewish artist.

SB&IB!Nathaniel: I’m a Jewish artist moonlighting as a villain.

Canon!Nathaniel: What?

SB&IB!XY: Are you an emotionally abused pop star?

Canon!XY: Yes, I am.

SB&IB!XY: Are you a “cool” emotionally abused popstar? *Holds up Bob Roth’s credit card*

Canon!XY: I, uh… I like to think so. *Leaves the court room with SB&IB!XY*

—

Kim: *After Austin Q hits the back of his head* Ow! What the hell?! That really hurts!

Austin Q: No it doesn’t! I do it to Austin T all the time!

Kim: You hit him? That’s insane! No wonder he’s so touch starved, claustrophobic, and doesn’t know how a school works!

Austin Q: That's Adrien!

[ashwhowrites]

Can I request Angst 40 with Eddie? But instead of God that's playing house it's Dustin and the Hellfire club. Maybe reader and Eddie have been fighting or they're ignoring their mutual feelings and it's coming through in Eddie's campaigns?

You're angst is amazing and I'm hoping for a happy ending, but do whatever you think fits best! :)

Absolutely! I think I should be able to give it a happy ending.

Thank you so much!

“Seven billion people in the world and I got put in a room with you. Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house with us.”

Ever since a new girl joined hellfire, her and Eddie have been down each other's throats.

Y/N was the only girl in hellfire for the longest time. Using this time to flirt her way into Eddie's life, and trying into his heart. She had a crush on Eddie ever since she met him during her freshmen year.

Eddie was hard to read. At times he flirted back and other times he acted like he didn't know who she was. She was on this endless rollercoaster and Eddie seemed to never turn it off. She made her feelings obvious, or so she thought. She's pretty sure all of hellfire knows she's into their leader but he seems clueless or not interested.

She'd compliment him every day, sneaking dirty jokes in between.

"wow Eddie that shirt fits your arms so nice. Can I feel them?"

"Those jeans fit your thighs really nice."

How is that not obvious? But it was confirmed he didn't like her in that way when he introduced Lilly to the group.

She was a tall blonde with green eyes. A smile that caught everyone's attention, and it definitely caught Eddie's.

"you can sit next to me." He smiled as she followed him to his seat.

Y/N looked at him confused, there wasn't an open seat next to him.

"move over Y/N." He said as he waved his hands to shoo her.

Y/N felt like she wanted to smack him so hard his hair would fly off. He had the nerve to tell her to move so a new girl could sit?

"Excuse me? This is my spot, it always has been." She stood up for herself.

The group watches them closely, feeling the tension get tighter and hotter.

"Yeah but Lilly is new and needs to be close to the master so I can show her." He smirked as he explained, winking in Lilly's direction. Y/N rolled her eyes as she giggled, covering her mouth.

Y/N decided not to fight and bit her tongue. Getting out of her chair, scraping it loudly across the floor.

The group watched silently, not believing the way Eddie was behaving.

Lilly sat next to Eddie and scooter the chair as close as she could.

Y/N tried to focus on the game, not on the fact Eddie was flirting his way through his whole campaign.

Towards the end she could feel the tears landing in her eyes. Hearing Eddie call this new girl beautiful every five seconds. Touching her hands as she rolled the dice. Cheering her on when she landed a good roll.

It reminded her of when she first learned. She remembered sitting in that chair trying so hard to impress Eddie. She stayed up night after night reading every book the library had. Even paying Dustin to teach her how to play. She remembered when Eddie called her beautiful every time. When his hand would hold hers as she rolled the dice.

Everything they did, he was doing with Lilly. Everything she thought that was special for them, was apparently just a thing he did with the new girls.

~~

It didn't get much easier for her.

Lilly came back session after session. She was getting better, Y/N would admit that. But that just meant she'd be staying.

She even has her own hellfire shirt now. Lilly's new spot was next to Eddie. Y/N's new spot was on the other side next to Dustin. Dustin tried to cheer her up at every campaign but it was hard when her eyes watched Eddie the whole time. Dustin knew all about her crush on Eddie's for years.

He encouraged her many times to make a move, and in some ways she did. She just never said exactly what she was feeling. Dustin knew his leader as well. And he knew he has feelings for Y/N. He just hasn't admitted it to himself yet. And as each day passed he could see Eddie ruining his chances more and more.

~~

Lilly has been part of hellfire for a month now and Y/N hadn't spoken to Eddie alone since.

Her flirting stopped, now embarrassed as he has no issue flirting with Lilly all the time

He never flirted this much with her. Another sign he wasn't interested.

Y/N gave up on getting his attention. Accepting that Eddie was into Lilly and she was definitely into him.

It wasn't a shock when he announced he wanted to ask Lilly out. The group nodded but not much of a response. Not that Eddie would notice, his eyes stayed on Y/N the whole time.

Watching as she refused to look up from her text book sitting as far from Eddie as possible. Eddie doesn't even know what hellfire said, just hearing the silence coming out of Y/N's mouth.

Dustin watched the two closely. Noticing Eddie only cared to see her reaction, or lack of reaction.

He watched as Eddie's shoulders slumped after Y/N never looked up.

Dustin smiled to himself - he has a plan.

~~

Y/N decided she wanted to quit hellfire a few days ago. She couldn't sit there and watch Eddie ignore her. She only joined the damn club for him and now he doesn't care if she's there or not.

She held the shirt in her hand as she sat in his throne chair, patiently waiting for him to show up early as he always does.

"shit, I didn't expect you to be in so early." Eddie chuckled as he closed the door behind him. Throwing his backpack on the floor.

"Eddie I want to talk." She said as she sighed. Eddie looked up at her, noticing the shirt in her hand.

"What's going on?" He asked nervously, praying this wasn't what he thought it was.

"I'm quitting hellfire." She said as she threw the shirt in the middle of the table.

Eddie watched as the shirt landed then snapped back to her. She looked emotionless.

"what? Why?" He asked

"are you serious Eddie?"

He was confused

"yes? I don't understand why you want to quit. We are so close to the end of the campaign, you can't just leave now." He explained.

She felt like she was going to cry. Of course he only cared about finishing the campaign.

"wow Eddie. I don't know why I'm even surprised that the only thing you care about is that fucking campaign. That's the only reason you want me here right? You don't even care about me actually leaving, do you? Just needing my character to finish off your campaign?"

"that's not true. I of course want you to be here because I want you to be here. You mean more to me than just a character in my campaign." He tried to reason

"it sure doesn't fucking feel like it Eddie." She snapped. Trying to keep her tears in her eyes. She did not want to cry in front of him

"I don't understand where all of this is coming from. Is this because of Lilly? Are you jealous you aren't the only girl around now? Because that's pretty pathetic." He crossed his arms, eyebrows scrunched slightly.

~~

Dustin felt himself smacking his head against the door. "not the right thing to say idiot." He whispered as he locked the door. He was going to make these two talk about their feelings before they leave that room.

~~

"you are such an asshole for that." She snapped back, walking towards the door. Smacking it when she realized it wouldn't open.

"for what? Saying the truth? At least one of us is."

She turned her head back to him, so much anger filling her veins.

"you know what Edward, yes I am jealous. But I am not jealous because I'm not the only girl in this club anymore!"

"then what are you jealous of?"

"BECAUSE IM NOT THE ONLY GIRL IN YOUR LIFE ANYMORE!". She covered her mouth quickly, turning towards the door again. Refusing to look at him. That was not what she wanted to say. She did not want him to know about her feelings as he made it so very clear he would never feel the same

"wait what?" He asked softly, his anger slowly leaving his body.

"Y/N look at me " he said as he grabbed her elbow. She quickly snatched it away and shook her head

"no, let's just ignore I said that." She said as she tried to open the door again, still not moving.

“Seven billion people in the world and I got put in a room with you. Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house with us.” she tried to joke through her tears

Eddie grabbed her elbow again, turning her slowly towards him.

He felt his lips move in a frown when he saw the tears falling down her cheeks.

"hey don't cry." He soothed as he cradled her cheeks

"please stop Eddie, this is making it harder for me." She said as she pulled herself away, using the sleeves of her sweater to wipe her tears.

"make what harder?" He spoke softly. Not wanting to upset her further.

"losing you." She said, finally looking at him. Shocked to see his own tears falling softly down his face.

"you aren't losing me." He said

"I basically already did Eddie. Ever since she came along, you just pushed me aside." She sighed as she took a deep breath. Wanting to stop the tears from falling already.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel pushed aside. I'm an idiot and I should have just been honest with you about how I feel." He admitted.

"what do you mean?" She asked, now she was confused. How did Eddie feel?

"I took some bad advice from freshmen. Apparently if you like a girl, you are supposed to see if she'll get jealous. But I guess I missed the warning that it will greatly upset the girl you are in love with and ruin the chance you have with her." He said as he looked down at his shoes.

Embarrassed to admit that out loud.

"you're in love with me?" She asked quietly, heart beating so hard she could actually hear it.

"Um yes. For a very long time and I was too scared to tell you so I decided why not fuck it up instead?" He tried to laugh it off, but the pain in his chest was suffocating.

"I am really sorry. I really didn't mean to upset you or make you want to quit hellfire." He apologized.

"Eddie Munson, you are an idiot but I love you too." She said as she walked closer to him. His head snapped up, big eyes open in shock.

"wait really?" He asked

"yeah. You didn't ruin your chance completely, but let's not push it again." She warned.

He nodded at her words and cupped her cheek.

"can I kiss you now?" He asked, his words washing over her lips.

She nodded softly.

Watching as he leaned in and slowly moving forward herself.

When their lips finally touched it felt like finally connecting the two puzzle pieces that wouldn't fit anywhere.

"it's quiet now, do you think they are kissing?" They heard Mike whisper outside the door.

Eddie pulled away with a smirk.

"shh." He said as he placed a finger to her lips. She watched him in confusion.

Then he threw his head back with a load moan

"YES BABY." she tried to hide her laugh as she heard the boys scram away from the door. Gagging as they ran down the hallway.

"I guess it wasn't God playing with us." She joked as she kissed him again.

"nope. Just our little group of sheep."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked

[disturbedbeautywrites]

🌺: Eddie + friends to lovers

Thank you for the request lovely 💜🧡

Friends to lovers with Eddie Headcannons

First of all, eddie would be one of the best best friends to have. He would have you laughing constantly and smiling until your cheeks absolutely were aching.

He would invite you along to D&D nights, teaching you how to play and even giving you tips while you were playing. He would ask for your move and then lean over to give you advice, his hand on your knee reassuringly as he talked you through your options.

When the other guys would start to give you hell, Eddie will glare at them. But when they don’t get the hint, he will threaten to unleash ungodly DND hell on them. That always shuts them up

Wayne practically sees you as a daughter at this point. You’re at the trailer so much that Wayne now always has a spare place set at the table for you when they eat dinner.

Eddie absolutely adores you and treats you like a queen, even when you’re just best friends. He is a total gentleman, holding open doors for you and always keeping his hand on your back as you walk through crowds.

The day that he confesses, you’re both just chilling on his bed. You’re trying to learn how to play his guitar and he’s guiding your fingers along the strings when he can’t take it anymore. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you for years.” And of course you say the same thing. You two start dating after that.

When it comes to making decisions, the DM himself has you roll a 20 sided dice to see what your persuasion is to see if you get to make the decision or if he does. But, even if you lose, you still usually get to be the one to take your pick.

Eddie loves to spoil you. You’re his girl and he wants nothing but the best for you. Anything and everything you could ever want, he gives you. You are his entire world.

When you two tell Wayne you’re dating, he’s ecstatic. He says it took you two long enough but he’s happy to see the two of you together.

Anytime you two go anywhere, he is so proud to announce that you’re his girlfriend and he wants to show you off. He is so proud to finally be able to call you his and he wants everyone to know how lucky he is.

[z-iridest]

omg joey, tristan, & duke’s (+whatever other characters of your choice) reaction to being called “pretty boy” by their crush before they start dating?? askdhk thank u <3

Calling Them "Pretty Boy" (Before Dating)

I kinda wish you would have submitted this with your username, because I love you for giving me the power this one brings! The way I see it, there's three types: The Double Take, The Flustered and the Smug Pain In The Neck (I think you can tell which is which before these even get started). So, to kick things off:

Joey Wheeler: The Double Take

All right, so this guy is more street smart than book smart (but still smart, don't you simps come after me!)

Speaking of simps, that's what he is if he's crushing on you (more so if he's dating you, but we'll get to that later! Sksksks)

It was the end of class when you said it, but he was looking through his deck, having not heard the bell.

"Joey, time to go." Yugi tried getting his attention first to no avail.

"Come on, bud, class's over." Tristan tried next, but not even he was able to get Joey to snap out of it. That's when you decided to try something.

"Pretty Boy, let's go."

It took a split second, but his head shot up to look at you.

"Oh, you're callin' me pretty boy?"

"Duh... Wow, that came out quick."

This sounds familiar, right? Remember that "Pretty Boy, with me, I said" Tik Tok? That's you and Joey in this case.

Later on, he questions you on it and, upon realizing you like him, he asks you out.

A random beginning to a great relationship, but hey, he thought it was cute.

Tristan Taylor- The Flustered:

Okay, okay, I know I'm using season zero for this picture of him, but that's his exact reaction!

Just like Joey, it was the end of class, but this is a slightly different situation.

You and Tristan were falling behind the others, and since a fun day was planned you didn't want to miss it, least of all let Tristan miss it.

So, with a giggle and without thinking, you took his hand and tugged him. "Come on, pretty boy, let's go!"

Since your back was to him, you didn't see the blush that covered his face, only felt him gently squeezes your hand as he mumbled, "I'd go anywhere long as it was with you."

Too bad for Tristan, you heard him and stopped dead, turning around to face him with an identical blush on your face. "Really?" You asked. He nodded, holding your hand in both of his.

Let's just say this started the cutest relationship at the school, and it was a day neither of you would forget

Duke Devlin- The Smug

In your defense, he is infuriatingly attractive.

When you first met Duke, you didn't like him one bit

He was arrogant, to say the least, and the flirting winks he gave you just annoyed you.

But the final straw came when he not only put Joey in a dog suit, but accused Yugi of cheating

You're super protective of your friends, so the fact that he even thought of doing this angered you, so much so that you snapped in the middle of the game of Dungeons and Dice Monsters game.

"How do we know you're not the cheater here? Did you teach Pegasus all the rules beforehand? Or did you just let him figure them out like Yugi had to? Either way, this doesn't seem like a fair fight to me!"

"You're more than welcome to take his place if you want, goregous."

"You really wanna go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?" You asked without thinking.

Duke smirked at the fact that you called him pretty boy, but didn't acknowledge it. Don't let the facade fool you, he might be keeping cool on the outside, but he's freaking out that his crush called him pretty boy inside.

"Get your deck ready and we'll go at it as soon as I'm done with Yugi, beautiful." He replied.

You rolled your eyes, shuffling your deck as you watched.

Duke was a great gamer, but in the end, it wasn't enough.

Funnily enough, Duke became one of your friends, eventually turning into a Rivals to Friends to Lovers type deal when you got brave enough to ask him out months later

Duke may be a player, but he sure didn't play games when it came to your heart

Although, he did like to tease you about the first time you called him pretty boy 🤣

(Hopefully this wasn't too short for you, anon, and I hope you enjoyed it ^^)

[shotosprincess]

♡ dating the bnha boys — hcs

｡･:*:･-: ✧ :,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･-: ✧ :,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

➪ shoto todoroki

pls you’ve prolly been terrified of him for a while prior bc of how ?? talented ?? the mf is ??

but mans prolly saved you at some point and there was this lingering stare you two shared before he left you at recovery girls’ office; were you reading too far into things ?

spoiler alert: you weren’t.

anYWAYS-

he’s the kind of boyfriend to tenderly brush your hair for you and attempt to learn how to tie and braid your hair up in cute ,, simple designs !!

he’d always be ready with little things you’re constantly forgetting; extra snacks,, water,, a fully charged portable charger ,, trust me when i say that man is pREPARED- after all ,, he needs to be ready with everything to take care of his little sweetheart ,, does he not ?

ONLY TWO POINTS IN AND IM ALREADY CRYING BC I LOVE HIM SM BYE BYE BYE

at some point he’d find you sitting on the roof by yourself late at night,, only to stay with you and let you fall asleep on his chest as he drapes a blanket over you and heats it up a lil with his quirk

OKAY YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT THAT MAN WOULDNT HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR YOU AT ALL TIMES AND WOULD SOMETIMES EVEN GET LOWKEYHIGHKEY KINDA SAD WHEN YOU DONT LET HIM

prolly bc he just wants to prove to you that he can be useful

pls just let the man know he’s useful and important he never shows it directly but he needs the reassurance—

he’d give you a warm massage w his quirk whenever you’re in pain :”)

HIDES AND PROTECTS YOU FROM MINETA BC HE KNOWS DAMN WELL WHAT THAT LITTLE SHIT FANTASIZES ABOUT

loves heating//cooling things for you ,, like instant noodles or ice packs !!

surprises you w jewelry that have his initials on them !!

GIVES THE BEST CUDDLES I SWEAR

would hold an umbrella for u while you loop your arm into his as the two of you walk home through the light rain :”)

cries into your chest sometimes after youve fallen asleep bc it’s late nights like these when he reflects on just how lucky of a guy he is to have you— it’s hard for him to articulate it directly ,, but when he does fully open up to you ab it ,, you end up crying too .

WOULD 110% MAKE THE TWO OF YOU YOUR OWN PERSONAL LIL ICE RINK AND TEACH YOU HOW TO SKATE // DO FUN FIGURE SKATING DUOS WITH YOU

➪ katsuki bakugou

prolly got with you initially bc of a dare ( and he nEVER passes up a dare ) ,, but eventually those feelings started to become real and honestly ? it kinda scared the shit outta him . he didn’t know why ,, but for some reason he didnt actually want to leave .

OKAY LARA JEAN AND PETER MF KAVINSKY TYPE BEAT ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ HIT US WITH THE FAKE RELATIONSHIP TO REAL RELATIONSHIP TROPE YESYESYES

teasingly-mean nicknames = his love language . enough said .

AGGRESSIVE !! KISSES !! ALL !! THE DAMN !! TIME !!

makes you wear his hoodie whenever you show even the sLIGHTEST hint at being cold

he just rly wants to see you in his clothes

he’s so clueless on how to do this whole boyfriend thing ,, but he’s definitely trying bc it’s for you :”)

watches and tries so desperately to copy all the cute couples in the movies you guys watch together

“ roses...do you want roses ? “ “ what ? “ “ the guy in the movie gave her roses...do you want roses too ? “

but at the end of the day you just appreciate him for who he is and that’s more than enough for you :”)

PLS DENKI AND KIRI ARE CONSTANTLY SHOCKED AT HOW MUCH HE’S TRYING FOR YOU

will take any and every opportunity to show off his strength and quirk to you <3

now we all know this man gets jealous hella easily ,, and its no different w relationships :”) he’d constantly make it a point to hold you extra close to him in public ,, show you off on social media and call you by a nickname//petname whenever possible just to reiterate to ppl the fact that you’re his and he’s yours

WOULD LET YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO HIS EYELINER AT 2AM PURELY BC YOU GOT BORED

pls i could rly see myself doing that i wont lie

honestly sometimes he forgets himself and his temper gets a little out of hand ,, but the second he sees his feral reflection in your fearful eyes,, he pulls you to his chest and apologizes profusely :”))

➪ denki kaminari

MF PROLLY GOT WITH YOU BC OF A RIGGED GAME OF SPIN THE BOTTLE AT MINA’S PLACE I CANNOT SEE ANYTH HAPPENING OTHERWISE

one tiny kiss turned into two ,, which turned into three ,, and before you knew it ,, the both of you were spilling out the pent up feelings you had for one another all this time—

mina never shuts up ab it ,, she’s so proud of her matchmaking skills

when the power goes out during a storm ,, he holds onto you tight and plays w your hair as he uses his quirk to turn things back on ,,, “ shhh it’s ok,, i’m here “

will do anything and everything to make you smile <3

he has a lil album in his camera roll with all his favourite pictures of you ,, which is practically just all of them tbh ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

HE LOVES SHOWING YOU OFF IN THE MOST WHOLESOME WAY POSSIBLE !!

super energetic n bubbly but at the end of your dates he passes out right away in your arms

you make sure to wrap him up in blankets and give him an overload of kisses after he’s rly asleep though

will work embarrassingly hard to win you stuffed animals at the fair !! it doesn’t always work ,, but it’s cute nontheless <3

some of the staff and children at the fairs get pissed off but oh well ,,, what you do for love

pls he prolly makes you lil bento boxes for lunch every now and then ( ESPECIALLY DURING EXAM WEEK ) w tiny notes and designs taped on them

constantly calls you “ shawty “ lowkey un ironically and dice rolls in ur direction whenever he sees you ,,, you just end up laughing and playfully punching him

I JUST KNOW HE DOES THE F BOY LIP BITE FACE CONSTANTLY

ITS AN ADDICTION FOR HIM I SWEAR

SUPER CLINGY BUT IN THE CUTEST WAY AAAA

LIL STICKY NOTE LOVE LETTERS FROM HIM IN YOUR LOCKER EVERY !! MF !! DAY !!!

you both agreed that at home cozy netflix dates w microwave popcorn and fuzzy blankets >>> movie theatre dates

110% made a playlist for you at some point when he crushed on you from afar and shared it w you after you started dating

he made a collaborative playlist for yall AND multiple playlists of songs that remind him of you afterwards

pls i just kNOW this man’s love language is making playlists

theyre prolly all categorized by mood or smth too w the cutest covers ever pls

➪ ejirou kirishima

you initially met him bc he was hella upset and alone this one time and you were the only one to notice and be there for him bc he ran away from everyone else to hide the “ uNmanLy “ tears :”))

takes you w him on his lil gym visits ,, hypes you up with every little thing u accomplish !!

constantly teasing bakugou with how he’s able to pull you and how lucky he is to have you

bakugou gets hella annoyed most of the time and just blasts him away-

idk bro i just feel like kiri prolly calls you “ adorable “ alot i wont lie-

LOVES HAND HOLDING,, takes any opportunity to hold ur hand and trace lil casual patterns across your knuckles w his thumb

sometimes he’ll even draw lil hearts on your hand

play fighting but sometimes the two of you get too carried away and he actually loses half of the time-

LATE NIGHT GAME NIGHTS WITH HIM AND THE BAKUSQUAD,, he loves being on the team against you so he can get all competitive

OK HEAR ME OUT;;;; DANCE BATTLES W HIM AS YOUR PARTNER AGAINST RANDOM PPL AT PARTIES

mans gets hella insecure ab himself sometimes ,, so he loves doing lil things for you !! opening a can ,, pulling the blanket over you ,, zipping up your jacket <33

STOP WAIT THATS SO CUTE BYE I WANT THAT

lets you dye his hair—THATS HOW MUCH HE TRUSTS YOU BYE

pls yall prolly aggressively play wii sports and just dance against one another on a regular basis;; it’s literally your thing and you cannot tell me otherwise ahjdjfj

pls i just KNOW this man’s an overly passionate wii player

will wrap his arms around your waist and hug u from behind as you make breakfast

WOULD WEAR MATCHING EARRINGS W YOU IF ITS FOR YOU

slow dances in the living room at midnight w you !!

eventually as you spent more time together ,,, you were able to change his idea of “ manliness “ ,, and he was able to realize that manliness is not equivalent to stoicism and that expressing ur feelings is still totally manly and totally valid !! <33

[honey-dewey]

Game Night

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 1,722

Warnings: none

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

It’s game night in the Morales household. The boys and you all sit down with drinks and snacks and decide to play one of the most friendship ruining games on the planet. Who will win the cutthroat game of monopoly?

“Babe, can you get the door?” You shouted, hearing Frankie shuffle around the living room. “The boys are here!”

Frankie eagerly bounded to the door, almost falling on his face on the slippery wooden floors. He quickly righted himself and pulled the door open, embracing Benny, Will, and Santiago in one go. 

“Boys!” You said cheerily as they entered the house. “C’mon! I made dip, and there’s drinks in the fridge, and there’s also a secret dessert.” 

“If you weren’t married, I would get on one knee, here and now,” Benny said, pulling you into a hug. “You are the best!” 

You laughed. “Yeah? Let’s see how that holds up. I distinctly remember cleaning my carpets for a week after our last game night.” 

“Excuse you!” Will called from the living room. “Benny called me a dumb whore for charging him money! I couldn’t let that slide!” 

Laughing, you cleared away the coasters and remotes from the living room table, leaving it blank for tonight’s game. 

Frankie grabbed a box from the supply closet and set it down on the living room coffee table. The box in question was beat up and held together with packing tape, but the name of the game was still legible. Monopoly. 

“Are we playing teams?” Frankie asked as you all gathered around the table, you setting the snacks down and going out to grab beers for the boys. 

“If we are, I call Frankie!” You shouted from the kitchen. 

Will snorted. “You’re married. Of course you’ll be a team. Benny?” 

Benny fist-bumped his brother. “Hell yeah!” 

“And me?” Santiago said, amusement making his voice light. 

“Pope,” Frankie said. “Every time we play, you kick all our asses. You don’t need a team.” 

Santiago snorted. “Sounds fair,” he said. “Although, I would appreciate a partner to teach my secrets to.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully. Ever since you and Frankie had gotten married, Santiago had been bugging you for a baby. You had no idea why he wanted you to have one so bad, but he did. 

“Pope, if I do end up pregnant, I promise you’ll be the second person I tell,” you said, leaning towards the table and grabbing your favorite piece. The horse and rider. “Right after my husband.” 

Santiago grabbed his piece, the battleship, and smiled. “Of course.” 

Benny and Will took their piece, the cannon, and you all set the pieces down. 

“Who’s rolling first?” Frankie asked, grabbing the dice and holding them out. 

Will rolled for his team first, getting a solid 8. Santiago went next, rolling a 10. 

“Good luck,” you said to Frankie, leaning on his shoulder as he rolled the dice. A quick count of the dots gave you an 11. 

“Fuck yeah!” Frankie said happily, scooping up the dice again. “We get to go first.” 

Nothing much happened for your first go around of the board. Everyone knew the strategy of ‘wait to see how the game would play out’ and that had led to plenty of long monopoly games. You and Frankie agreed on the light blue and pink properties, and managed to buy Vermont and Virginia in two turns. You also, after a quick discussion, bought Illinois when you landed on it, knowing that the reds and the yellows were Santiago’s strategy. 

Another go around of the board, and the strategies began to emerge. You and Frankie got two railroads and another two properties in your target area, and it seemed that Will and Benny were too busy trying to outsmart Santiago that they didn’t even realize you and Frankie were very slowly taking over half the board. Santiago, in true Santiago fashion, kept his strategy as hidden as possible, buying properties from the entire board instead of focusing on one area. By the time you’d all passed Go again, tension was still, surprisingly, low. 

That changed quickly. You and Frankie bought what was affectionately referred to as ‘the slums’ but was actually just the two brown properties with a lucky roll of snake eyes, and through a well timed chance card, Will and Benny ended up in jail, both agreeing that it was complete bullshit while Santiago laughed. 

“Houses?” Frankie murmured in your ear as he added the second brown card to your stack. 

You glanced at what Santiago had and what the brothers had. “Wait. Santi’s trying to edge us off those orange properties, but give it another go around. He’s got that last blue one, Connecticut, but we’ve got Illinois, which he needs. And I’ve got no clue what Will and Benny are doing.” 

Frankie nodded, taking the dice and rolling again, getting you two the last pink property. 

“I’m gonna go grab more food, anyone want anything?” You asked, standing and looking around. 

“Another drink?” Benny asked, holding up his empty beer bottle. 

You took it, scanning the table for anything else you could recycle. “Of course,” you said. “How about I bring out the prize tonight, hm?” 

The boys cheered. Monopoly wasn’t a game where you often congratulated the winner. In fact, half the time Frankie managed to beat everyone, you jokingly refused to kiss him. But tonight, you wanted to up the stakes. 

Grabbing another beer for Benny, you balanced a covered pie tin with your other hand and walked back into the living room, where Frankie was happily arranging what had been collected in Free Parking. 

“Boys!” You announced happily. “Tonight’s victor will be awarded the grand prize of,” you pulled the tin foil off the pie tin. “A homemade cherry pie.” 

Immediately, everyone went wild. You laughed, covering the pie back up and setting it down on the kitchen counter. “Shall we keep playing?” 

The game continued, a few more go arounds of the board securing the final few properties. You and Frankie had almost every property you wanted, along with three of the four railroads. 

“Uh, guys,” Benny said finally after you charged him for a railroad. “Team lovebirds are destroying us right now. How’d we let that happen? How did no one notice?”

You laughed, grabbing the dice and rolling them. “I guess we’ll be keeping that pie.” 

“Not if I can help it!” Santiago held up the final light blue card. “Suck it!” 

“Mhm, we’ve got that last red one,” you pointed out, moving your piece and reluctantly handing Benny and Will some money. “Whenever you’re ready to trade, we’ll be here.” 

Will whistled, pushing the dice towards Santiago. “Dude, that’s rough.” 

Santiago leaned forward. “Nah. I want that damn pie.” 

Not long after that, Benny and Will went bankrupt, much to their disappointment. However, it meant they could man the bank and they wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire that would become your game. 

The game continued to drag on, neither you nor Santiago willing to back down. Money was exchanged, Will and Benny’s properties were bought, and houses were built. 

By the time anything interesting happened, you and Frankie had a solid chokehold on half the board. It was a war of attrition, a simple back and forth of the money. And then, by some miracle, you rolled the dice and landed on free parking. 

It was a crushing blow for poor Santiago. Suddenly, you and Frankie were up by almost five thousand dollars, able to afford a bunch of houses and, very slowly, you were able to drive Santiago to bankruptcy. 

“Damn!” He yelled, realizing he was done. “Good game, damn I cannot believe I lost.” 

You grinned, standing. “Pack all of this up. I’ll go cut the pie.” 

While the boys cleaned, you got five plates, putting a slice of pie on each one. Using old waiting skills and going very slowly, you carried all five plates out. 

“Jeez babe!” Frankie said, jumping up to help you. “Gimme some of those! You could’ve asked for help.” 

“I had it,” you reassured, sitting on the couch and sinking your fork into the pie. “Fuck, that is beautiful.” 

For the rest of the night, you and the boys ate, drank, and pulled out a deck of Uno cards to keep the fun going. Of course, Benny kicked all your asses, but he was the only one who ever actually strategized Uno. Everyone else enjoyed tipsy fun, laughing when someone got screwed and groaning when someone won. 

Eventually, some time well past midnight, you sent everyone to bed, or the couch in Santiago’s case. That included Frankie, who pulled you into your shared bedroom and grinned. “Babe, I got a question.” 

“Fire away.” 

Frankie came up behind you, putting his hands against your belly. “When are we gonna tell them?” 

“Tomorrow,” you murmured, resting your hands overtop Frankie’s. “I wanna watch Santi spit coffee out his nose.” 

Chuckling, Frankie led you to bed. “You’re evil.” 

The next morning, you gave each of the boys a coffee cup, smiling as you received sleepy murmurs. 

“Hey Benny,” you called, opening the fridge and peering into it. “You got any use for a perfectly good bottle of wine?” 

“Uh, why?” Benny asked, looking up from his mug. 

You shrugged. “Frankie’s not a wine guy and I can’t drink it.” 

“Yes you can,” Will said. “You drank a whole bottle with Benny last month.” 

“Bitch, I wasn’t pregnant last month.” 

As you’d guessed last night, Santiago choked on his coffee, coughing so violently that Frankie had to thump him on the back a few times. “What?” He yelled when he was finally able to talk again. 

“I’m pregnant,” you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “Surprise. You’re all gonna be uncles.” 

Santiago fist pumped the air. “Hell yeah! I get a monopoly partner!” 

You laughed, doubling over the counter. “That’s what you’re focusing on?” 

“I have my priorities,” Santiago said with a smile. 

Benny stood, looking you up and down. “Can I touch? Please?” 

You shrugged, gesturing him closer. “Nothing to touch yet, but yeah.” 

Benny’s hand was warm on your belly, and he grinned at the expanse of exposed skin. “Hey,” he said directly to the baby. “I’m your uncle Benny.” 

“Ben,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re talking to a month old bean.” 

But now Will was beside you, and so was Santi, and there was Frankie behind you. Surrounded by your boys, you grinned. “I love this family.”

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Pastry Negotiations

Masterlist

Decided to do a few cute funny oneshots for the witcher i wanted to do a modern reader x geralt collection somehow its become geralt x yennefer x modern reader this is just so i can take small a break from Trophy. Next imagine in series is Here

Warnings: maybe implied smut? Swearing

Your and Jaskier’s spat end in a hostage situation

Pastry Negotiations

'Tho its eased up a bit now' you thought as you rummaged threw the small satchel that yennefer had given you full of a few clothes she had lent you and somewhere in here there should be a small pastry that you had squirreld away ,you growled as it wasnt at the top where you left it ripping the garments out of the bag frustrated. It wasn't there you rolled up the clothes throwing them back in. Geralt noticed your little tantrum 

It was early evening when the five of you settled in camp geralt sat leaning against a large tree a few feet away from the fire, watching over his small 'pack' as you called it. You'd been here just over two weeks now, no closer to finding a way home but you were slowly adapting. You got along with ciri like a house on fire she seemed to enjoy teaching you things and listening to stories of your home land;Even if you did cop out and just recited your favourite films to her.Jaskier had become more of a brother  ,you both loved irritating one another leading to squabbles and name calling which in all honesty put you at ease as he did remind you of your brothers at home.

The love birds? now that was becoming awkward because of your crush on them, you couldnt help it they were both beautiful and dominant. you were still unsure of them tho, yes they have been accommodating but they constantly watched you, always had one or both staring at you especially when you were around ciri but there was also somthing in their eyes as they swept over you that made you want to blush.

They had been keeping their distance only helping you when nesscasary or stepping in putting a stop to your and jaskiers banter that is until three of four days ago they became more attentive striking up small conversations with you asking about the things in the stories you told ciri. Yennefer had insisted that you sleep with her and geralt for your own safety, which you didn't understand as you'd been fine lying along side ciri and jaskier.

Nevertheless once geralt agreed you'd found yourself dragged between them a few nights ago and that was the end of it. It was a bit uncomfortable as during the night they 'accidentally' tangle themelves around you. The past two mornings waking up snuggled between the two.It would have been nice if one it didn't embarrass you and two if geralt could loosen up a bit ,your arms keep going numb.Apart from that new development the one thing you just had enough of was pain you couldn't stand it. your days used to consist of sitting at a desk all day proof reading, now you were expected to walk miles in already worn trainers.

Your feet and legs screamed with every step and you fell behind refusing to ride on roach ,until finally geralt had enough of stopping for you to catch up and sat you on roach, you had been all but hysterical as he had carried you towards her only then did he realise that you'd had avoided the horse at all costs because you were scared of her ,to your five foot fuck all she was huge.Ciri bless her, had climbed up behind you helping you to relax showing you where to hold on as geralt took the reigns and began walking again. Jaskier had poked fun about the ordeal until you'd explained at home you don't use horses to travel people only have them as pets and you'd never actually been this close to one before so didn't know how big theyd be. All four of them were stumped.

It was only a few hours later you realised that a horse was no better as yes it took the pressure off your feet but put it on your ass and thighs.It was painfull as geralt and yennefer comicaly pulled you off that night and you have since walked bow legged. 

"What have you lost Y/N?" You stomped over to the fire sitting down on a small blanket beside ciri capturing the attention of yennefer you huffed crossing your arms hangry.

"The pastry that yenn gave me is gone i put it in my bag so i could have it tonight and its grown legs and walked off apparently." You pouted staring daggers at the flames.

"Are your sure you put it away?" Yennefer answered him befor you

"Yes she did i was the one who told her to" geralt sighed 

"It could have fallen out, you have a habit of not doing up your bag" 

"It cOuLd HaVe FaLlEn OuT"you mocked scowling. you caught jaskiers gaze he freigned ignorance and nervously looked away

"Jaskier?" he breathed out a nervous laugh

"Yes"

"Have you seen it?"

"No of course not"

"Really you look shifty"

"you dont honestly think id take your pastry do you?" He said as you crawled towards his bag he snatched it quickly.

"I wouldnt put it past you show me" you said sitting infront of the now cornered sputtering bard

"Y/N id never even dream of-"

"Cut the crap and open it" you interupted befor he could come up with an excuse you pounced on him wrestling for the bag. Untill 

"AHA! You did pinch it you little sneak theif" you announced as he quickly pulled the snack from his bag holding it out of reach. He shook his head shuffleing back making distance between you.

"no no i found it on the floor earlier so i took it" you squinted at him

"give it back" 

"No finders keepers" 

"But its mine" you whined petulantly

"No" you growled at him turning to the left

"H-HEY put that down no what are you?" You faced him again his precious lute in one hand and a small blade you'd swiped off geralt yesterday ignoring geralts

"Is that my knife when did you get that?"

"Not now geralt , Jaskier Drop the pastry or the lute gets it" you threatend sliding the blade flat under a few strings he jumped forward catching himself as you tilted away twisting the blade untill two strings rested taught on it.

"Ok ok lets not do anything rash how about we split it" he offered.no dice.

"How about i cut these" you countered tilting your head at him watching him squirm

"Ok ok i get it you pass me the lute and ill give this back" he concluded

"How do i know you will give it back when you have your lute?"

"You have my word" 

"Words are cheap"

"I promise"

" you give me the pastry and then ill release the hostage unharmed"

"No i dont trust you to do that"

"Then it appears we are at an impass" you said tilting th knife unbeknownst to you the witcher of the group was already on the move quickly stalking up behind you before things could get ugly with out either of you haveing time to react geralt had snatched the pastry off of jaskier Growling out

"If you cant behave neither of you have it" then he turned you struggled as he took the lute and knife off of you throwing the lute towards the small pile of bags near the tent pointing a threatening finger at jaskier.leave it. Geralt took a few steps around you muttering somthing along the lines of 'couple of fucking children'  causing the girls to giggle he gave ciri the treat who happily began munching it.You pouted at his back when he made his way back to his tree trying to locate where you'd stolen the knife from. 

"Thats not fair he'll get his lute back tomorrow and i cant have my snack" you sulked as jaskier laughed behind you.

"It will act as a reminder to do up your fucking bag im tired of reminding you" was the reply from geralt you heard Yennefer pipe up in agreement your face soured as you crawled back beside ciri who had finished your pastry. Smileing impishly you sighed then looked at the resident smug couple.

"Fuck you both" you muttered with out missing a beat yennefer replied 

"We would but we assumed your still sore after your ride on roach" silence fell over the camp as you stuttered speechless a deep blush crept up your chest and neck jaskier gaped at the three of you geralt smirked as he and yennefer shared a knowing look.Jaskiers hearty laugh echoed in the camp.

Wow i realy enjoyed that watch out for more of these in the next few days see ya soon xx

[cake-writes]

Point

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Polyamory

Word Count: 3k

Requested by @thorman-barnes​​: What about Stucky having a crush on one of the newest Avengers (reader)?

I figured I should probably format it properly since it’s longer than my usual drabbles. Enjoy!

The first thing Bucky noticed about you was your smile, which lit up your face in such a way that the breath caught in his throat. Despite the stark, fluorescent lighting in the hallway, you were gorgeous, and the laugh that followed was even more so as you shoved Sam in the shoulder with a certain playful familiarity. 

You were friends, it looked like.

That was when Sam spotted him standing there like an idiot, and he introduced you with a grin – prefixed your name with ‘Captain,’ which made you snort. It wasn’t very ladylike, but Bucky didn’t care. He thought it was cute. It suited you.

“Come on, Sam, it’s ‘Major,’ now. Haven’t these good ol’ boys taught you a little respect?” you teased, nodding over to Bucky who was apparently one of the 'good ol' boys' you were talking about. Sam made a show of rolling his eyes and despite your casual demeanour with him, you addressed Bucky a bit more kindly, “Sergeant Barnes, right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stammered.

Smooth.

It caught him off guard, someone using his title from the Army. All anyone called him these days was the Winter Soldier, but not you. No, instead you directed that beautiful smile right at him and held out your hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sergeant.”

“Bucky,” he corrected, finally regaining his bearings a little as he shook your hand. Your handshake was surprisingly firm, much firmer than he would have expected from a woman. Then again, women these days were far more empowered than he was used to, not that that was a bad thing. It was just a new dynamic for him to adjust to along with everything else.

“Well then, Bucky,” you said, eyes twinkling with mischief, “You wanna help me teach our boy here some manners?”

Oh, he liked you already.

The first thing Steve noticed about you was your ass.

He didn’t mean to, honest, he didn't – just happened to round the corner into the plane hangar at the exact same time you bent over to pick up the file you’d dropped. He certainly wasn’t the type to really look at, let alone ogle a woman until he felt some kind of romantic way about her, but Christ, did you have a fantastic ass. The dark blue catsuit on your body almost seemed tailored to fit, enhancing every single one of your curves.

Any other day he would have helped you collect the strewn papers, well-mannered as he usually was, but he couldn’t help but stare. You must have just gotten back from a mission if the torn fabric on your thigh was any indication; not to mention he could smell the gunpowder residue on your clothing, coupled with the slightest hint of your sweat and inwardly he cursed his enhanced senses for it. You smelled so good.

When you stood back up again, papers in hand, you spun around on your heel and made to leave the hangar. The little gold oak leaf on your collar glinted in the muted sunlight: a Major, then, but he didn’t know what branch. Air Force, maybe. You were wearing blue. What drew his attention away from the fact that you technically outranked him was your hair – glossy, just like your lips, he found, when they curled into a smirk.

You’d caught him staring.

His face was beet red before he even had a chance to introduce himself. Not that he really needed to, because he was in uniform and you were already holding your hand out for a handshake. He didn’t fail to hear the amusement in your voice when you offered him your name.

“Steve,” he responded, swallowing thickly when he realized exactly how small your hand was in his, how nice it felt. “Steve Rogers.”

“I’ve heard good things about you, Captain.” The way your eyes trailed down his body for the briefest of seconds before they snapped back up to his made him nervous, but not so much as when you added, “Very good things.”

At that, his throat went bone dry.

To say that the mission was awkward would have been an understatement.

It was unplanned, a hostage situation: rescue a group of rookie SHIELD agents who had royally fucked up. The only people on hand were the three of you, unless you counted Bruce, who was in the middle of a time-sensitive experiment in the lab and he really didn’t want a week’s worth of meticulous work to go down the drain.

In your opinion, the mission should have taken priority, but you told him that you’d manage somehow. If nothing else, Bruce Banner could pull off some serious puppy dog eyes. You didn't realize until after you got in the elevator that you'd screwed yourself.

You found Steve and Bucky in the gym. That was where they usually were, either there or in the kitchen because their metabolisms were ridiculous and they were in a perpetual state of eating. You’d been working with them for about half a year now, and you still didn’t understand how they managed to get anything else done.

“We’ve got a mission,” you said abruptly, throwing a couple of gym towels at them.

Steve caught his at the last minute with an easy, “Thanks, doll,” a pet name that never failed to make your cheeks flush. You were sure he did it on purpose, because there was always a distinct twinkle in his eyes that let you know he’d noticed your reaction to it.

Just like now.

Bucky’s caught him right in the face, however, because he’d been in the middle of a deadlift and his hands were occupied. He dropped the barbell with an annoyed grunt and pulled the towel off of his head, giving you a look – the look, the one that conveyed exactly how much he appreciated your bullshit. Hint: he didn’t, but the playful smile on his lips made your heart warm.

That was how you ended up on the Quinjet with them. You’d been on missions with them before, of course, but never just the three of you. There was always at least one other person there, or just one of them. Never like this.

It was awkward as hell because you’d been attracted to Steve and Bucky since you met them, and as obvious as you tried to be about it, they just wouldn’t take the hint despite how much they flirted right back.

Steve was subtle. He snuck glances at you every now and then, called you ‘doll’ and ‘sweetheart’ so casually, slipped sweet little notes into your duffel bag right before a (planned) mission. Sometimes, you found them and they lifted your spirits. Other times, you found them at the worst possible moment, like a couple weeks ago when Tony yanked it out of your hands and read it out loud to everyone on the jet, the two of them included.

You didn’t talk to Tony for a week after that. Or Steve. It was embarrassing as hell, passing notes back and forth like the two of you were in high school when you were supposed to be a professional. You still had yet to live it down.

Of course, his notes never contained anything of real substance. He liked to compliment you – your hair, a new blouse, the bracelet you’d bought yourself for your birthday. You blushed anyway. He also liked to remind you to be careful, or to try out one of the new fighting techniques he’d taught you.

Steve was sweet.

Bucky was just as stupidly obvious as you were. He was handsy with you; liked to touch you, feel you, know you were there, especially after a difficult mission or when either of you had a particularly gruelling day and you absolutely loved it.

Bucky was by no means good at giving massages, but he liked to try, and to his credit he usually managed to work the soreness out of your neck and shoulders. When you returned the favour, he always played into your hands like putty. Made you feel a little proud, actually – proud and turned on, which was a nightmare of a combination in such a relaxed atmosphere.

You were always so relaxed with him.

You often found him in the middle of the night in the living room, kept awake by what you assumed were the horrors of his past and just as often, you stayed with him until the early hours of the morning. More than once, he’d fallen asleep with his head in your lap while you threaded your fingers through his hair.

Bucky put on a tough front, but you knew deep down that he was just as sweet as Steve.

Needless to say, the whole situation was incredibly frustrating.

You were playing a dangerous game, though, and you knew it. They were best friends. Nothing would come between them, not even you as much as you desperately wanted to. That was one reason you never made a move. Another was because they’d been raised in a different time, when it was the man’s job to make the first move. As dumb as it sounded, you didn’t want to emasculate them.

So you made your intentions obvious as hell, but still no dice.

It was a quick flight. You briefed them on the way, running point on the operation because you were the one who’d received the phone call. You'd led plenty of missions in the past, of course, but not here and not with them. Awkward. Nerve-wracking. Uncomfortable. That's what it was.

Even so, it went without a hitch. The four agents you rescued were beyond grateful, but somehow, the flight back was even worse.

One in particular wanted to take you out to dinner as a thank you. You politely declined at least three times, but he just wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer until you made a clear point of taking the plane off autopilot to get away from him. Not only were you way out of his league (not to toot your own horn), but it was late, you were tired, and you already had someone else in your heart.

Two someones.

The Quinjet was tense and quiet until you finally arrived back to the compound. The agents were too busy licking their wounds, so to speak; Steve and Bucky were having a hushed discussion at the back of the plane; and you, well, you were in a mood.

It pissed you off that he hadn’t taken your ‘no’ the first time. How disrespectful. You were an officer in the United States Air Force, for fuck’s sake, and you deserved to be treated with respect. He was just some low-level agent, and it was entirely his fault that you had to sacrifice your Friday night.

Dick.

You worked yourself up so much by the time you got back that you missed the sidelong glance the two boys gave you before they helped the group of agents off the plane and to the medical ward.

You’d be the last to disembark. Because you took point on the mission, it was your responsibility to ensure that everything was just as you’d found it: full tank of fuel, first aid kit replenished, floors clean and tidy. You’d seen Steve run through the checklist plenty of times. Bucky, too. Now it was your turn.

Grumbling to yourself, you dropped some gauze and bandage wrappers into the trash bag in your hands. The agents had been in pretty bad shape, even him, so much that you were going to have to mop the floors after because they’d bled all over the place. Fantastic.

After a quick tidy, you slung the first aid kit – duffel, really – over your shoulder and went to the cabinet in the hangar where the extra supplies were kept. You had to bend over and dig for some of the things you needed, specific sizes of gauze and certain lengths of bandages but you finally found them; and, when you shut the cabinet doors, you nearly jumped out of your own skin.

“Jesus Christ,” you swore, throwing a packet of gauze at Bucky. “Don’t do that!”  

This time, he caught it easily. “What’s got your panties in a knot?”

“Nothing,” you told him, but the angry way you shoved the supplies back into the kit made it pretty obvious that you were lying.

“Sure doesn’t seem like nothing,” Bucky commented dryly.

You frowned at him before you held out your hand, palm facing up. “Give me that.”

His brows rose in amusement. “I’ll give it to you if you tell me.”

What a child.

You rolled your eyes and went to snatch it away yourself, but he held it over your head, taunting you with it. Now, you weren’t exactly tall, but Bucky sure was. He was tall and strong and when you jumped for it, he just held it up even higher.

“God damn it, Bucky,” you cursed. “Give it here.”

“Ask nicely,” he teased, lowering it so that it was within your reach once more.

You groaned. “I’m so not in the mood for this.”

But then you went for it again anyway – except this time, you didn’t realize that he’d brought it much closer to himself until you landed. You wound up having to catch yourself with one hand on his shoulder, otherwise you probably would have smacked heads or something equally as stupid.

“You’re so predictable,” he said, then, and you weren’t sure whether to huff indignantly or ask what he meant.

Inside, though, your heart was pounding, not because of the jumping but because of your close proximity. Something was different. This wasn’t like that relaxing atmosphere on the sofa, either in the middle of the night or with his thumbs massaging deep circles into your shoulders. There was tension, and a hell of a lot of it.

You could feel his body heat through his tac jacket – he always ran hot, and so did Steve – and you felt your cheeks start to burn. You were way too close.

When you went to step away, however, his free arm slid around your waist and he pulled you closer, flush against him. Your breath hitched when you looked up into his eyes: such a beautiful pale blue, normally, but darker than usual.

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, fingers curling instinctively in the material of his jacket.

“Kissin’ you.”

You didn’t have time to respond before his lips were hot on yours, and you absolutely melted against him. Your other hand came up to grasp at his jacket in a desperate attempt to pull him even closer as his talented mouth worked yours, sending a rush of heat through you straight to your core.

When your hair was gently brushed to the side, it didn’t register at first; only when another pair of lips pressed a kiss to your neck did you suddenly break away, eyes jumping between the two of them in alarm.

“What’s happening right now?” you asked, like an idiot.

“We saw someone flirting with our girl,” Steve told you, one of his large hands slowly sliding down your spine to the small of your back, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “Didn’t like it a whole lot, did we, Buck?”

“Not one bit.” Bucky released you, then, and gave you a gentle push toward Steve. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be shy.”

You stared at Bucky for a moment, flabbergasted, before you finally turned to Steve. The problem was that you did feel shy all of a sudden. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because it was a lot to take in all at once, after you’d convinced yourself that everything had all been an exercise in futility.

Then Steve smiled at you -- sweet and genuine, just like always -- and pulled your hand into his, giving you enough confidence to bury your fingers in his hair and bring him down for a kiss. It was passionate, full of months of pent-up frustration just like the one you’d shared with Bucky. Your body was on fire, burning with need and desire and everything you’d always wanted from the two of them.

When Steve pulled away, you looked up at him in a daze.

“Guess you didn’t read my note,” he said softly.

Your voice was breathy when you spoke again, “What note?”

“I asked you to hang around so we could talk. It’s probably still in your bag.”

Bucky snorted. “Why would she check her bag before she got back to her room?”

That was the same question you were about to ask, but when Steve shot him a pointed look, it all clicked into place.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you said incredulously, taking a purposeful step away so that your back was pressed up against Bucky’s chest instead – the very same Bucky who slid his arms around you protectively, chuckling a little into your hair.

Steve’s face immediately flushed at your tone.

“I-- I didn’t mean--” he stammered. “I meant for privacy!”

You laughed at that, taking Bucky’s metal hand into one of yours and holding your free one out to Steve. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest; either that, or you were floating on air. Possibly both. “Well, I guess we’ll need some privacy, then, won’t we?”

The only other time you’d seen Steve’s face so beet red was when the first time you met him, and it was just as endearing then as it was now.

He was sweet. Bucky was, too. 

They were yours. 

Both of them.

(If you like my work, please consider donating to my Patreon or my Ko-Fi!)

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient book of Proverbs and book of Psalms

for may 16 of 2021 with Proverbs 16 and Psalm 16, accompanied by Psalm 58 for the 58th day of Spring and Psalm 136 for day 136 of the year

[Proverbs 16]

People go about making their plans,

but the Eternal has the final word.

Even when you think you have good intentions,

He knows your real motives.

Whatever you do, do it as service to Him,

and He will guarantee your success.

The Eternal made everything for a reason.

Even wrongdoers fit in His plans; troubled times await them.

He abhors arrogant people.

Make no mistake about it! They will be punished!

The penalty of sin is removed by love and loyalty;

and by devotion to the Eternal, evil is avoided.

When people make good choices, He is pleased;

He even causes their enemies to live peacefully near them.

Better to have little and stand for what is right

than to become rich by doing what is wrong.

People do their best making plans for their lives,

but the Eternal guides each step.

The king makes a decision under divine inspiration,

but he must never render an unfair judgment.

The Eternal requires that business be conducted honestly;

He wants fairness in all your dealings.

When kings commit evil, it is despicable,

because their thrones should be built on justice.

Kings admire those who tell the truth;

they adore those who set the record straight.

A king’s rage signals that people will die,

but whoever is wise will pacify him.

If a king is smiling brightly, life will be granted;

his favor is like a cloud swelled with the first spring rain.

How much better it is to receive wisdom than the riches of gold

and to gain understanding over some silver prize!

The highway of the just bypasses evil;

those who watch where they’re going protect their lives from sin.

Pride precedes destruction;

an arrogant spirit gives way to a nasty fall.

It is better to be humble and live among the poor,

than to divide up stolen property with the proud.

Those devoted to instruction will prosper in goodness;

those who trust in the Eternal will experience His favor.

The wise at heart have a reputation for understanding;

pleasant words make the lips more persuasive.

Understanding for those who have it is a spring of life,

but it is pointless to try and instruct a fool.

From a wise heart flow careful words;

wise words make the lips more persuasive.

Pleasant words are like a honeycomb:

they drip sweet food for life and bring health to the body.

Before every person lies a road that seems to be right,

but at the end of that road death and destruction wait.

People work to stay alive,

pressed daily by their need to eat.

Good-for-nothings conjure up evil ideas;

their conversations fuel destructive fires.

Perverse people stir up contention;

gossip makes best friends into enemies.

Violent people try to recruit their neighbors,

wanting to lead them down the vile path of evil they have chosen.

Body language can expose a person’s intentions:

whoever winks the eye is planning perversity;

whoever purses his lips is intent on evil.

Gray hair is a crown of honor,

earned by living the right kind of life.

It is better to be a patient man than a mighty warrior,

better to be someone who controls his temper than someone who conquers a city.

We may try to control the roll of the dice,

but actually, the Eternal decides what they will determine.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 16 (The Voice)

[Psalm 16]

The Golden Secret

A precious song, engraved in gold, by David

A prayer of David.

Protect me, God, for the only safety I know is found in the moments I seek You.

I told You, Eternal One, “You are my Lord,

for the only good I know in this world is found in You alone.”

The beauty of faith-filled people encompasses me.

They are true, and my heart is thrilled beyond measure.

All the while the despair of many,

who abandoned Your goodness for the empty promises of false gods, increases day by day.

I refuse to pour out blood offerings,

to utter their names from my lips.

You, Eternal One, are my sustenance and my life-giving cup.

In that cup, You hold my future and my eternal riches.

My home is surrounded in beauty;

You have gifted me with abundance and a rich legacy.

I will bless the Eternal, whose wise teaching orchestrates my days

and centers my mind at night.

He is ever present with me;

at all times He goes before me.

I will not live in fear or abandon my calling

because He stands at my right hand.

This is a good life—my heart is glad, my soul is full of joy,

and my body is at rest.

Who could want for more?

You will not abandon me to experience death and the grave

or leave me to rot alone.

Instead, You direct me on the path that leads to a beautiful life.

As I walk with You, the pleasures are never-ending,

and I know true joy and contentment.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 16 (The Passion Translation / The Voice)

[Psalm 58]

Judge of the Judges

For the Pure and Shining One

King David’s golden song of instruction

To the tune of “Do Not Destroy”

God’s justice? You high and mighty politicians

know nothing about it!

Which one of you has walked in justice toward others?

Which one of you has treated everyone right and fair?

Not one! You only give “justice” in exchange for a bribe.

For the right price you let others get away with murder.

Wicked wanderers even from the womb—that’s who you are!

You lie with your words, and your teaching is poison.

Like cobras closing their ears to the most expert of the charmers,

you strike out against all who are near.

O God, break their fangs;

shatter the teeth of these ravenous lions!

Let them disappear like water falling on thirsty ground.

Let all their weapons be useless.

Let them be like snails dissolving into the slime.

Let them be cut off, never seeing the light of day!

God will sweep them away so fast

that they’ll never know what hit them.

The godly will celebrate in the triumph of good over evil,

and the lovers of God will trample

the wickedness of the wicked under their feet!

Then everyone will say, “There is a God who judges the judges”

and “There is a great reward in loving God!”

The Book of Psalms, Poem 58 (The Passion Translation)

to be accompanied by these lines:

Is this any way to run a country?

Is there an honest politician in the house?

Behind the scenes you weave webs of deceit,

behind closed doors you make deals with demons.

The wicked crawl from the wrong side of the cradle;

their first words out of the womb are lies.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 58:1-3 (The Message)

[Psalm 136]

Let your heart overflow with praise to the Eternal, for He is good,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Praise the True God who reigns over all other gods,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Praise the Lord who reigns over all other lords,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

To Him who alone does marvelous wonders,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who created the heavens with skill and artistry,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who laid out dry land over the waters,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who made the great heavenly lights,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

The sun to reign by day,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

The moon and stars to reign by night,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

To Him who struck down the firstborn of the Egyptians,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who set Israel free from Egyptian masters,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

With fierce strength, a mighty hand, and an outstretched arm,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

To Him who split the Red Sea in two and made a path between the divided waters,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Then allowed Israel to pass safely through on dry ground,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

To Him who crushed Pharaoh and his army in the waters of the Red Sea,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who guided His people through the desert,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who struck down mighty kings,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who slaughtered famous kings,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Sihon, the king of the Amorites,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

And Og, the king of Bashan,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

To Him who gave the conquered land as an inheritance,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who made the land a heritage to Israel, His servant,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

To Him who remembered us when we were nearly defeated,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who rescued us from our enemies,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Who provides food for every living thing,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

Let your heart overflow with praise to the True God of heaven,

for His faithful love lasts forever.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 136 (The Voice)

[whumptasticwednesday]

Insult to Injury ft. Dadneto (Peter Maximoff - X-Men)

Author’s Note: Hey, ya’ll. I’ve been burning the midnight oil to get this fic out on time, AKA 2 consecutive nights of staying up till’ 3 am. I’ve had the idea for a Peter-centric Dadneto whump fic for a decent amount of time, and after receiving a lovely anonymous prompt, I decided to incorporate both my idea and theirs. Here we’ve got Peter after the events of Apocalypse, debilitated, and accidentally giving himself a nasty case of salmonella, before Erik comes to help. I’m pretty proud of this one, so I hope you enjoy it! This fic is unedited, sorry, so please let me know if there’s any glaring issues. For my next fic, I’m shifting away from X-Men for a hot sec so I can write a nice Detroit: Become Human whump fic with our favorite android son, Connor. I’ve been super excited about my plot concept, so I’m ecstatic to start writing it. Anyways, I hope you like this one, I worked very hard on it, and I hope you’re all excited for the DBH fic coming soon!

-Ash

Word Count: 6299

Warning: Emeto and decently graphic descriptions of physical illness

Setting: Post-Apocalypse/Pre-Dark Phoenix

If there's anything Peter Maximoff knew in this moment, it was that not being able to do the one thing your body was genetically enhanced to do, sucked. A lot.

It had been only a few days since the X-Mansion had been rebuilt and things all fell back into this synonymous routine as if the entire building hadn't exploded a short while ago. In Peter's opinion, it was all kind of creepy how easy it seemed for these kids to all just go back to learning when their home and school just got eviscerated in a hellfire, but he didn't think much of it.

All he could think about in this moment, was how immensely bored he was. Peter always had something going on with him; he was either thinking about his impending dad-related issues, plotting a prank, or deciding to go off and steal an entire Walmart's worth of Twinkies in the blink of an eye, there was always something.

Yet now, the rest of the X-Men were off with Charles helping cover up heat from the international press by cleaning up all the damage and destruction in Cairo and showing what Charles had dubbed: "diplomacy", which was too huge of a word for Peter to ever use in an everyday sentence; too many letters, and Peter was left back at the mansion since he really couldn't use his powers effectively at the moment, so it would be pretty useless for him to be tagging along.

Peter normally wouldn't have given a damn, maybe even excited at the prospect of being able to rig his friends' rooms with elaborate traps with Jello and staplers or something of the sorts while they weren't around, yet now, when faced with inescapable boredom that followed him wherever his broken leg did (everywhere), he was dying to have anything to do. As the team was suiting up to get on the jet to go back to Cairo, Peter had pathetically hobbled down to the X-Men bunker on his crutches, begging to be taken with. But they'd simply gassed up the plane and flew off, leaving Peter alone, and oh so very bored.

Which brings us to Peter now, attempting to create an omelette with 6 different cheeses, 8 different and poorly-diced peppers, a heaping assortment of minced tomatoes, and a sprinkling of those off-brand fruit snacks that are always better than the on-brand ones for some reason. It wouldn't be a Peter breakfast without some form of sweet, and in his eyes, it stuck to the healthy-ish theme. It had fruit in the name for a reason, didn't it?

The kid always had a massive appetite, and everyone that knew Peter knew this as well. You'd be hard pressed to find him without some snack or form of sustenance in his hand, scarfing it down like there was no tomorrow. It was all a byproduct of his enhanced metabolism. All that energy to run had to come from somewhere, didn't it? Little did he know, this super stomach of his would come to kick him in the ass in a few short hours. But for now, the silver-haired man child of a mutant was limping around the mansion's kitchen making a very... exotic breakfast for dinner meal.

Peter plopped the strange looking (decently gooey) excuse for an omelette into a large plate with some Twinkies and orange juice on the side. As he devoured his dinner, Peter thought anxiously about Erik. It had taken him 10 years to connect the dots, work up the courage, and even think of confronting the man to tell him of his true parentage, yet wimped out at the last minute, leaving the ambiguous: "I'm here for my family too." Peter groaned audibly to himself as his mind once again replayed the events he'd already replayed a million times before. It was embarrassing as all hell. Luckily, nobody that did know told Erik anything, which Peter was very grateful for.

Imagine learning about a woman you left 2 and a half decades ago actually birthing a son you had no idea existed and just now learned of... but not from him, despite several encounters beforehand where he had ample opportunities to do so. It'd make Peter feel like even more of a loser than a 27 year old who still lived in his mother's basement. But, to be fair, Peter was no longer a grown man living with his mom, he was a grown man living in a school where he was many years past the oldest enrolled student, while not teaching a single class; it was a step up from the basement, trust me.

Once finished with his omelette, Peter quickly washed his dishes and made his trek up the small flight of stairs to reach his room on the second floor. Over the past few days, Peter had learned just how high a set of stairs could be, especially when you end up falling down them on several attempts to slide down the handrail (and failing miserably while being laughed at by dozens of impressionable pre-teen children.) What a loser.

After reaching his room, particularly winded from this dinner excursion, Peter was grateful to see that he hadn't unplugged his television from the wall after his embarrassing fall in an attempt to get to the bathroom by himself, without his crutches, or the lights on. A simple recipe for disaster in nearly all circumstances, yet for some reason, the universe held pity for Peter and his debilitated state, and decided to not make his day any worse than it already was.

Peter ultimately decided to entertain himself with a good night-long play session of Pac-Man on his Atari 2600, also still miraculously undamaged from last night's fall. He booted up the inferior version of the game (seriously though, he'd have to get Kurt to help him teleport his arcade cabinet from his basement to the school, playing this one was getting a bit tiring on the eyes.) It sufficed, he thought as the TV harshly flashed on.

Now normally, Peter would have been up all night with his video games and rock music blaring in the background, yet tonight, something (besides his immobile leg) felt really off. Each distinct 'WOMP' from the console as the yellow circle man consumed the dashes and dots felt like a sledgehammer into Peter's eardrums, leaving a resonating ache at the base of his skull. He didn't think much of it and brushed it off, simply turning down his music a notch and backing away from the TV a few inches.

The next confusing sign that something wasn't quite right was the disconcerting shivers wracking his body. A chilly breeze seemed to sweep the room as if the AC was on full blast with the windows open on a November midnight, yet it was July and all the windows were closed and when he went to check if his AC unit was acting up, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That's whack, Peter thought to himself as he plopped onto his bed, Atari abandoned on the rugged floor.

He didn't know how long he spent staring at the unmoving chandelier hanging lamely from the ceiling, but it felt as if seconds later, the room was not only freezing, but spinning, and suffocating. Everything felt way too close. Peter could feel every fiber of his shirt rubbing against his jacket, the itchy inside of his cast pressing up against the entirety of his right leg, and the presence of his goggles resting on his neck, now seeming like a noose closing in on his throat. He hastily tore off the eyewear and tossed them on his nightstand before deciding to shed his jacket and weakly throwing it across the room. Another move he regretted.

Without the jacket to keep his arms warm, the newfound seemingly frosty atmosphere felt like a icy flurry against his skin. In spite of his mind's confused wishes, Peter ripped the heavy blanket off the end of the bed and closed it around himself like a caterpillar ready to emerge as a butterfly the next time it saw the daylight. Peter sure as hell didn't feel like a caterpillar, but if the feeling of metamorphosis was a growing sense of intense nausea and cramping in the stomach, then hell yeah, he was crushing this butterfly business.

Fuck, what's wrong with me?! He thought to himself as he rolled onto his side. Peter rubbed at his eyes, hoping to clear the dizziness, yet only further irritating them. God damnit, he sighed internally as his face scrunched up in discomfort, releasing one of his hand's hold on the blanket to cradle his aching stomach.

"Is this karma for all that shit I stole when I was younger? That's just mean, man," Peter rasped to nobody in particular. He thought about it more though and responded to his own question, "Then again, I think that's pretty fair. Haha...Shit, man. Never thought I'd say this, but I think... I think I need help."

The sledgehammer-like headache was pounding with every bass drum beat lightly emanating from the sound system Peter hadn't turned off, another move he regretted. He couldn't decide if the pros outweighed the cons: hobbling through the dark to possibly remedy a source of his suffering, but relinquishing his hold on the only thing keeping him from feeling like freezing. Peter played it safe, much to his cranium's dismay.

Peter stared off towards the wall at nothing in particular as he tried oh so hard to draw his mind's focus from how terrible he felt to literally anything else. It wasn't working out so well. And so, Peter laid there, blanket tossed over himself, single leg drawn up to his chest, shivering like a leaf in a rainstorm, as nauseous as a toddler who just rode their first roller coaster, feeling like he was about to cry, and alone. What a miserable way to spend the night.

------

If there's anything Erik Lehnsherr knew in this moment, it was that he was beyond irritated that Charles wasn't at the mansion to run his own school. Despite leaving the school once he'd helped rebuild it to try and seek solitude to wrap his mind around his place in the world and everything that'd happened to him, Erik was back at the mansion once again. He was ready to lay down the foundations for his new mutant hideaway, Genosha, and needed Charles's connections to the government to help smooth over his charges and get clearance to have his isolated society where he might truly find happiness and solace. The universe had spoken, and he obviously wasn't cut out to be a nuclear family kind of guy.

Unbeknownst to him, Erik had once again meandered into a setting with his unrealized son. Also unbeknownst to him, that son was currently cooped up alone in his room, feeling like death.

Erik uncomfortably paced around the mansion, checking Charles's office, the X-Men bunker, and all the other places he might have been, yet the telepath was nowhere to be found. Erik sighed, he knew coming this late was a bargain, one, it turns out, he'd come to lose. The school itself was eerily quiet. It was if the entire mansion was empty or something. Peaceful, yet unsettling for a man who knew nothing but chaos.

Erik was about to borrow a book someone had abandoned in the foyer when he heard the muffled melodies of American rock music echoing from the upstairs floor. It must be that problematic Peter child, Erik thought to himself. From what he told himself was a civil duty to the rest of the sleeping kids in the school (but was actually his own way to cope with his curiosity) Erik decided to check up on the snarky young man to ask if he'd turn down the tunes.

As he approached the door, Erik was bracing himself for something extremely untamed. Perhaps a messy, greasy slophole of a living area, or maybe a drunk and uncontrollably obnoxious man dancing to his music in the nude. You never really knew with Peter, and Erik had come to expect the strangest out of the boy from the few genuine interactions they've had.

Erik gently tapped his knuckles against the door, waiting patiently for a 'come in', or something along the lines of those words, yet it never came. Raising a questioning yet not too surprised eyebrow, Erik knocked again, using slightly harder bangs, not wishing to make a ruckus and wake anyone else in the hallway up. Again, nothing. Although it could have simply boiled down to Peter not hearing him from his loud and abhorrent music, Erik was growing slightly irritated with the lack of a response. So with his last reserves of patience, he knocked one final time, once again listening for a signal or cue to enter. He was met with nothing yet again.

Wondering for the worst and fully expecting to meet a blackout drunk Peter when he opened the door, Erik tentatively jiggled the doorknob, which just so happened to be unlocked, and stepped inside. Thankfully, he was not met with a naked dancing or woefully drunk mutant speedster, but most would probably argue that what he was met with was quite worse. And that being a rancid stench of sick and sour nastiness lingering in the air, a poorly plopped pile of blankets draped over the culprit of the odor, and the culprit himself lying pale and flushed on the floor beside his bed, covered in his own vomit.

Erik's nose crinkled up from being met by the strongly nauseating smell of the room, reaching for the light switch on the wall to aid the sad little table lamp and glow of the TV in illuminating the room. Now he truly saw the pity-worthy situation for what it was. Peter laid in a heap on the ground next to his bed; he'd clearly trying to make it to the en suite bathroom just a few feet away. However, with his dizzy mind and immobile leg, he didn't make it very far and ended up expelling his dinner in a much less... dignified location (if you could consider a toilet bowl a very dignified location), that undignified location being all over his lap and onto his faded Pink Floyd t-shirt.

Not knowing how to really handle the situation, Erik called out a soft, "Peter?" hoping to elicit a response. Yet, just like at the door, he was met with nothing. As he approached the boy, thoughts of anxiety and panic circled through his mind. What would he say to him when he woke up? Would he be uncomfortable with Erik of all people coming to help? Would he be confused? Would he not care? He felt undeniably and inexplicably awkward. Erik shook the thoughts from his conscious as he knelt down to try and meet Peter's face.

"Peter?" he asked again. Erik tentatively reached over to tap the boy's face, which was contorted in a pinched expression of discomfort, marred further by the vomit drying in a trail down his chin.

Once Erik's hand made contact with Peter's cheek, he wanted to retract it. From the split second interaction, Erik had felt the clammy, sweaty, and scorching hot skin and was growing concerned. The slight physical prodding finally made Peter respond.

"Mom?" he asked groggily, voice cracking, "I'll put my dishes in the sink in a minute... I'm tired..."

Erik let out a harsh sigh, bending his neck in an attempt to make eye contact with the boy.

"Peter, I'm not you-" Erik was cut off.

"Yeah yeah... I'm not your maid. I know, Ma. Just... give me five."

"Peter." Erik stated bluntly yet with a hint of unease, unsure if Peter was delirious or just messing with him, "look at me, please."

Peter cracked open his eyes and blearily met Erik's stoic and collected face. He blinked a few times, slowly and deliberately, calculating who was kneeling in front of him, before letting out a weak and wheezy chuckle, "hey there, refrigerator ornament. Wassup?"

Erik rolled his eyes, responding with, "I came to ask you to turn down your atrocious music so you won't wake any of the other children who are trying to sleep. When I came in here, you were passed out on the floor. Would you like to explain to me what happened?"

"Nah... it isn't all too interesting"

"Peter, can you please act like an adult for 2 minutes? Please?"

"Oh man, the Nazi-hunting, president-killing, horseman of the Apocalypse is bustin' out the PLEASES. Look out, world, Lord of the Vacation Souvenirs has a new tactic... MANNERS!"

Peter burst out laughing at his own adolescent joke, ending in a wheezy struggle to catch his own breath. Erik couldn't tell if he was just screwing with him or genuinely needed help. This behavior seemed pretty normal for the immature mutant.

"Look, Peter, I really just need to know if you're okay. Can you answer that simple question, please?"

"Man, your tactics are workin' like a charm. I guess I'll tel-" Peter was cut off by a repulsing gag, hunching over and expelling his stomach's contents... again, this time, however, onto Erik's shirt, quickly travelling in a sad trail down onto his freshly-ironed pants. Peter's bloodshot eyes went side with embarrassment as he quickly transitioned his gaze to the floor.

Erik's face was caught frozen still as his mind caught up with what had just happened. As repulsed as he was, it wasn't like he hadn't seen worse. But that still didn't make the fact that he was just puked on any less disgusting. After audibly exhaling through his nose, Erik once again focused on the miserable man child in front of him, who was now anxiously tapping his fingernails on the hard plaster of his cast, deliberately trying to avoid eye contact.

God damnit, Peter, He thought to himself as he continued tapping, it's bad enough leaving him with a painfully ambiguous response during a battle to save all of humanity, ultimately ruining a perfectly good chance to fess up, but now look what you've done. You fucking threw up on him. Peter felt himself growing smaller as his subconscious shamed him for his uncontrollable bout of illness. It was stupid and ultimately all in his head, but it didn't make him feel any less shit about his situation.

After taking the few quiet seconds, Erik stood up, and whether it was out of pity or some subconscious moral quest, grabbed Peter by the armpits and dragged him to the bathroom.

"W-what the?" Peter asked, confused by the harsh white light of the bathroom and the sudden shift in scenery.

"Well I'm not going to let you sit in your own disgusting clothes. I have standards, you know. Can you undress yourself? I'll get us both some clean clothes."

Peter grunted in response. It meant: yeah, I think I can take off my own clothes, bro... once the room stops spinning. Erik, however, had already up and left, stripping off his own soiled shirt and rifling through Peter's dresser drawers, and taking the opportunity to flick off the television and silence the music that had been awkwardly filling the room's background space up until now.

Peter didn't have much variety in his clothing, dark jeans and band logo t-shirts were most of his dresser's arsenal. Not wishing to be clad in a Metallica shirt for the rest of the night, he dug a bit further into the seemingly endless assortment of shirts till he found a plain white short sleeve, sighing in relief. He grabbed a random shirt from the top of the assortment which just so happened to have the Journey logo on it, and set off to find new pants for the boy.

Back in the bathroom, Peter was still laying slumped against the bathtub, shivering. Everything around him had seemingly slowed to a halt, not unlike when he was running past the speed of sound, but this time deceleration just felt... wrong.

The crashing rhythm of the rock music had come to a halt, yet it didn't cease the incessant throbbing ache in his head, as if the bass riffs and the harsh taps of the snare were on a permanent loop with earbuds permanently glued to his ears. He was trying his best to prevent himself from groaning or whining as to not sound like even more of a child in front of Erik, but honestly, he didn't want his nonexistent father right now, he wanted his mom.

Peter was snapped from his self loathing by Erik's footfalls growing progressively louder as he approached him. Erik had thrown on a pair of track pants and a random white shirt. He was holding a pair of sweatpants and another shirt for Peter so he could be free of his sweat-slick and vomit-covered clothes.

"Hey, you don't get to keep those. I like those pants," Peter stated sarcastically, still trying to put up a front, although he was unsure why. He'd needed help, it was painfully obvious, so why was he still pushing his father away? Resentment? Anger? Pride? No... fear.

"Arms up," Erik instructed, preparing to take Peter's shirt off for him.

"Yo, you know I'm not a toddler, right? I can take off my own god damn shirt."

"You sure don't act like you're a day older than one, and I don't wanna risk you accidentally suffocating getting stuck in your own clothing so... arms up."

Peter sighed and did as he was told. Erik swiftly peeled the top off the boy and felt around his back, finding it clammy and warm. As if he'd just went from the tropics to Antarctica, the shirt leaving his skin exposed his skin to a whole new level of cold. The sensation ripped through his spine as his teeth started chattering. Hoping Erik had a brain underneath that skull, Peter was (im)patiently waiting for the man to save him from the frosty winds of his newly installed Arctic bathroom and slip the new shirt over him already. However, much to Peter's dismay, Erik turned on the tub's faucet, soaking a hand towel in cold water before leaning over and placing it on Peter's exposed back.

The second the frigid cloth made contact with his skin, Peter recoiled, back arching backwards, arms frantically bending to try and remove it. Erik sighed, slightly out of pity, and continued holding it down.

"Is this some cruel punishment? What did I do?" Peter pleaded, hoping to distract himself from crying by use of humor.

"You're scorching and sticky and it's just disgusting. I'm cooling you down, so relax," Erik explained. "It'll be a few more seconds, I just needed to get all the sweat off of you."

And as quickly as it had begun, the endeavor was over and Erik was threading Peter's strikingly pale and flimsy arms through the shirt holes. Peter audibly sighed, feeling like he'd just spent an hour in an industrial freezer and was now back into a normal temperature.

Erik's eyes drifted to Peter's legs, immediately noticing a flaw in his plan. How was he going to change Peter's pants with that full leg cast?

"Peter, how do you typically change your pants considering your current... situation?" Erik asked.

"It's pretty simple. I don't," Peter replied bluntly.

"W-what?"

"Well, after I got my leg set a few days ago, I changed into jeans, not wanting to be in flight suit pants for the next week of my life, and I haven't swapped since. It's like, physically impossible."

"So... you've been wearing the same (disgustingly dirty) pants all week?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Hank says I should be grateful that it'll heal in a couple days, most people you'd find passed out on their floor covered in vomit with a full leg cast would have been wearing their nasty pants for weeks."

Erik sighed, tossing Peter's soiled shirt and the sweatpants back into the bedroom before meeting his gaze.

"Alright, Peter, I'm going to set you up in bed now."

"Sounds grea-" Peter was once again, clamping his hand over his mouth, pathetically dragging himself over to the toilet to prevent throwing up all over himself again.

Erik saw his distress and lifted the toilet lid and seat, prompting Peter to start heaving into the sad and dreary porcelain bowl. Each dry or productive heave sent another pulsing wave of pain and violent nausea from his stomach to seemingly every conceivable inch of his body in a viscous cycle of suffering. Erik could do nothing but watch as the silver-haired boy wretched in agony, each heave causing his breath to hitch, caught in his throat, as another bout of sick rushed up past his lips, crashing into the toilet bowl.

Erik wanted to reach over and rub Peter's back or offer a semblance of physical comfort for the anguish he must have been feeling. He'd often do this for his daughter, Nina, whenever she had a stomach bug. Erik reached out his hand, only to quickly retract it, shaking haunting thoughts from his mind. This boy was not his child, and in no way would he ever come close to being Nina. What was he thinking?

Guilt quickly overtook the memories as Peter finished his session of sickness. He sagged limply against the side of the toilet, face still partially hidden by the rim of the bowl. When he looked up at Erik, he looked awful. Beyond awful.

Red-rimmed eyes, clearly there as Peter attempted to stop the obvious tears from spilling over, met cool yet collected ones, the former's being full of pain, not just from this embarrassment or the physical turmoil he'd just endured, but something else. Erik knew those eyes. He knew them because for so long, they were the ones he'd stared at in the mirror, day after day, for years, until he'd found Charles, only to come face to face again with those demonized eyes in the form of an immature mutant puking his guts out on his bathroom floor. They were the eyes of a young man who was lost, feeling alone, hiding a part of themselves they wanted to let go, to set free, so they could truly be happy, yet he couldn't possibly decipher what could be internally destroying the boy.

"I-I'm sorry you had to watch that..." Peter said softly as his head lolled over.

"It's fine," Erik replied with a tone to match that of Peter's.

"I'm pretty sure... that I'm done. For now?" It came out as more of a question, but at this point, Peter wasn't trusting any signal his body was sending him. Every impulse had been smudged and cloudy in his mind, and paired with the seemingly endless headache and the relentless chills racking his body from the fever, Peter was sure that if his mind were a computer hard drive, it would have self destructed out of a deadly virus slowly hacking into the hardware.

But alas, Peter was no computer, and so he was stuck with this mystery illness, cooped up in his room, unable to run, with Erik mother-hecking Lehnsherr. His fever-addled mind was barely functioning at this point, so he didn't register anything but dizzying blurred images swirling around his head and slightly-grumbled voice swimming in his ears as Erik scooped the kid up like a newlywed bride and carried him off to bed.

Peter had never been more grateful to grace the comfort of his duvet, ready to sleep. He halfheartedly grabbed at it in an attempt to cover himself and finally warm up. Erik sighed with pity, grabbing it for him and draping it over his shoulders before moving over to stand by the nightstand and awkwardly watching Peter try and get comfortable.

Despite the obvious fact that his body wanted him to sleep, Peter's mind was racing everywhere except the realm of unconsciousness. Every thought was emphasized ten-fold as it bounced around his head until the only things remaining were his want, heck, his need, to tell Erik the truth, and the hesitant and unsure anxiety lingering in the background of his subconscious that was stopping him from doing just that.

Fevers, though, as Peter was quickly learning, tended to do weird shit to what your brain was really trying to accomplish, often scrambling any message you tried to expel to the point where it may or may not have even been your true intentions. And hell, it was an even bigger gamble if you'd remember any of the dumb shit you'd done or said. It was as if the heat had boiled all the potentially embarrassing memories away, which was at least kinda nice.

With everything happening, Peter thought it best for Erik to just pack up and scoot from the premises, as not to accidentally say or do something stupid that might come back to bite him in the ass later, but Peter wasn't about to pull an asshole move on the man who'd just helped him despite not being obligated to at all.

So, instead of verbally asking, Peter did the next most "mature" thing he could have in his debilitated and helpless situation. He pretended to be asleep in a pathetic hope that Erik would leave on his own. He didn't. Peter ended up looking like he was trying way too hard to be asleep than any real asleep person, and after a few minutes, Erik caught on.

"Peter, I know you're not actually sleeping," Erik said, not putting on any sort of specific emotion.

Peter cracked one red and tired eye open, meeting Erik's gaze yet again. Peter sighed and turned over onto his side, back to the other man, bleary eyes trying to focus on anything that wasn't Erik. Sleep, a seemingly effortless task for most, eluded Peter as he let out an a low whine. This was miserable.

"Hey, Erik?"

"Yes?"

"I umm... never mind..."

"What were you going to say?"

"It's nothing... I just feel stupid since I can't even do the easiest thing on the planet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

The question struck Peter like a cold dagger to the heart, it sounded so much like something his mom would say, who was practically the only person he wanted in that moment. Peter didn't like to be weak or expose any of his fears. He preferred to be distant and reserved, to hide all that insecurity with stupid dry humor and sarcasm. His mom and his sisters were really the only ones who he'd truly been open with, and when faced with these new circumstances, finally able to reconnect with the father he never had, he was frozen in place, and after pushing people away and closing himself off for so long, not knowing what to do to reach out and truly face what he needed to.

Completely internally and externally overwhelmed, Peter let his dam of pride burst, letting his emotional flood pour out of his eyes in the form of earnest, choked sobs. He bit his lip and weakly rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to hide his distress.

Erik was taken aback, taking a step towards him, before backpedaling as fast as the initial paternal instinct had seized him. He didn't know what to do. Erik was conflicted, scared of overstepping boundaries, but wholeheartedly wanting to comfort the clearly suffering boy lying in bed in front of him.

And in a flash of instinct, an unspoken, deep-rooted, yet unknown draw towards the silver-haired boy, Erik sat down on the mattress, back meeting Peter's, and leaning over his shoulder to rub his back

Erik's hand was shaky, unsure if it should truly be there. He felt the heat radiating off Peter's skin through his t-shirt. Erik glanced down further to Peter's face, and despite the hands trying (and failing) to cover his eyes, saw it covered in a new sheen of sweat quickly mixing with his tears, pale and pasty with angry crimson patches sitting pretty as pictures on his cheeks and forehead. Everything in that moment accentuated both how awfully awkward Erik and truly terrible Peter felt.

Erik didn't even know if Peter was lucid anymore. He was breaking down into tears, shivering and being comforted by someone who was practically a stranger. Eventually, the sobs dwindled into whimpers and Erik's nerves were starting to taper off himself. The room fell into a weirdly calm silence as the two decided to not say anything. Until Peter's shaky voice cut through the room.

"Y-you know... when I was a dumb little kid, I thought I-I could outrun germs. Look at me now. I can't even cook a f-freakin' omelette without making myself sick... I never needed to cook for myself, it was always my mom, or Hostess cakes."

"..." Erik wanted to say something, anything, but he was unsure what, or if Peter would understand.

"I can't do anything right... life tosses me chances and I just fuck em' all up."

Erik soon realized Peter was no longer talking about his omelette, but something deeper.

"I just wish... you could've d-done this for me when I was still that dumb little kid. I wish for so much to be different. I'd always wanted a d-dad, and when I finally figured out who he was, I learn he'd gone off to kill the president! I-I don't know..."

"W-what?"

"I m-might not be able to outrun germs, but my entire l-life, I've outrun everything. The law, my responsibilities, adulthood... But now, the one time when I finally can't run from anything, out of all of my problems, I gotta face you of all things. N-not the way I thought this would happen..." Peter's words died out as he fell silent.

Erik wasn't sure he'd heard Peter properly. Until something in his mind clicked. Everything he's done up until now: "my mom once knew a guy who could do that..." and "I'm here for my family too..." Oh my god, he thought, I'm... I-I'm Peter's... father? Who else had he been with before his wife... Magda. Oh god.

Erik pulled his hand away from Peter's back. This caused Peter to moan and flip onto his back, staring directly at Erik, eyes cutting straight to his heart like knives.

"W-why'd you stop? It was nice..." Peter admitted shyly.

"I-I need a second, Peter. I'm sorry," Erik sighed as he pushed himself off the mattress.

Peter said nothing as his eyes drifted back to his bedspread. Disappointment lurking behind his bloodshot irises.

Erik walked off to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He stared up at himself in the mirror, hands gripped tightly around the basin. This couldn't be happening. Not after Nina, not again. Erik was just... terrified. Terrified of the idea of getting close again. Anyone who's ever been a part of Erik's family... had died. His parents, his wife, his daughter; he didn't want Peter to join the list of people the universe was just deemed to kill. He knew that Peter was far from dying, it was a simple fact that the kid couldn't cook and he'd fed himself something underdone. Yet, it was all happening, it was all too fast, and everything felt so damn scary.

He knew, deep down, that this was the truth. It only made sense that the Magda didn't wanna tell her son that his dad was an internationally targeted terrorist that's murdered dozens of people, and this kid had no reasons to lie about it. God... Erik didn't know how to feel, what he should do, but he did know that had a need to comfort Peter, who'd just confessed a secret he'd been hiding for who knows how long, and was now laying alone, probably feeling abandoned again, after pouring his heart out knowing full well it might be shot down.

Whether it was all intentional was yet to be seen. Again, fevers did weird shit.

Erik let out a low sigh and opened the door, finding Peter curled up on himself as best he could, softly whining, mumbling incoherently to himself. Erik stepped over and sat down on the bed again, the entire mattress dipping from his weight.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I am very happy you told me..." Erik was searching for the right words, "the truth."

" 'r welc'm" Peter mumbled as his puffy eyelids slid over his tired brown eyes.

"Is there anything you need me to do for you right now?"

"J'st... stay please. I-It's embarassin', I know, but I just... my mom used to do it..."

"Alright, Peter. I'm not gonna leave, so just try to sleep, okay?"

Peter didn't need to be told twice as his mind and body worked in harmony, finally allowing Peter to be lulled off to the realm of unconsciousness. And although he knew it wasn't necessary, Erik wished to add to the intimacy of this quiet moment, a type of moment so rare and inconstant in both of their lives, so he pushed himself up against the headboard, laying out flat on the bed, and carded his fingers into Peter's silky silver locks. And out of habit, maybe a sort of tendency he'd developed from doing it with Nina, or an obligation to share what he felt Peter deserved, he began to hum his family lullaby, ever so slowly and softly, drowning out any other thing the world wanted to toss at them. Because in that moment... Erik and Peter had found something they'd both been missing for so long, peacefulness and contentment. And for that short night, it was all they needed.

[razieltwelve]

Swords (Final Effect)

Commander Jane Shepard (promotion currently under consideration) ducked behind a wall as another hail of projectiles hurtled down the corridor. In the aftermath of the Reaper War, space pirates and raiders had become for more bold due to the losses the major powers had suffered. It was up to her and other elite agents to deal with them since the major powers were still struggling to recoup their losses.

It had gotten bad enough that the Systems Alliance had asked the Empire for assistance although they had been careful about rewording it as ‘cooperative training exercises’ for the press to avoid inciting a panic. Personally, Shepard would have been perfectly happy telling some of the more overzealous members of the Empire to go nuts since they apparently had a long-standing grudge against space pirates. However, the higher ups did not want to appear weak with negotiations underway.

Honestly, it was ridiculous. Even if the Systems Alliance had been at full strength, the Empire could have crushed them without breaking a sweat. Oh well. At least dealing with space pirates took her mind off the fact that she would soon be swapping her armour for her dress uniform since she was, apparently, someone the Empire had come to respect greatly, and her superiors wanted her to participate in some of the negotiations.

“Can someone clear those pirates out?” Shepard asked over the comms. “I’d rather not stick my head around the corner and get it blown off by a rocket launcher.”

In response to her words, several glowing spears flew down the corridor, turned the corner, and then hurtled into the pirates before exploding. She rolled her eyes. Honestly, Celeste was just showing off now. The pink-haired Dia-Farron had the ability to create Aura construct in just about any shape she wanted that she could manoeuvre with incredible speed, accuracy, and precision.

“Consider them cleared out,” Celeste murmured as she walked past Shepard. The hamster on her shoulder squeaked a greeting and rubbed his paws together in glee. Knowing him, he was looking forward to looting the corpses. The pirates might not have advanced technology, but the Dia-Farron had made a point of collecting any technology they encountered. “Are you coming?”

Shepard laughed. “Right behind you.”

“Of course.” Celeste inclined her head. Like most Dia-Farron, the power armour she wore was dominated by shades of pink, orange, green, and blue. It looked a bit odd, and it was absolutely lacking in anything even approaching subtlety, but she doubted Celeste cared. “Do you want a weapon?”

Shepard grinned. This was why she loved working with Celeste. “Twin swords, monomolecular edges.”

Celeste waved one hand, and a pair of glowing swords with monomolecular edges appeared. “There you go.”

Shepard heft the weapons, and her grin widened. Celeste had weighted them to feel just like real swords. “Some covering fire while I close in would be appreciated.”

Celeste snapped one finger. A series of glowing blades thundered into the makeshift barricade the space pirates had tossed up. The barricade came apart in a shower of mangled metal, and Shepard gave a savage smile as she raced forward. There was nothing quite like fighting the enemy face to face.

As she ran, Shepard took a moment to appreciate her armour. The Dia-Farron had worked on it. They had, apparently, only used technology that the Systems Alliance was capable of replicating in the near future, but the suit was far, far, far better than it had originally been. It seemed to anticipate her movements, and the servos built into it amplified her strength without hindering her speed or agility. Without her suit, Shepard was one of the deadliest humans alive. With it? She was a living chainsaw.

She struck the pirates in a blur of motion. One sword whipped up and forward, and the pirate - a Batarian - was cleaved in two. Using her other sword to relieve another pirate of his weapon - and the arm that was holding it - she spun and decapitated a pair of pirates that had tried to sneak up on her. Fully immersed in the thrill of combat, she pressed on, ducking several shots, before she leapt, twisting in mid-air to kick off the ceiling and land right in the middle of the next group of pirates.

With terrifying ease, she sliced and diced her way down the corridor. The glowing Aura construct blades seamlessly cut through everything they encountered as she decided to put some of her lessons with Celeste to work. The Empire placed a far greater emphasis on melee combat than most factions, and the moment she’d found out that Celeste was considered a master of several dozen different weapons, she had immediately badgered the other woman into teaching her whenever she had the chance.

The ultimate objective of all weapons forms in the Empire was to become formless, capable of adjusting to any situation and exploiting any weaknesses or flaws in the opponent. However, attaining formlessness required absolute mastery of form. Celeste had picked out several styles that she thought would suit Shepard best, and Shepard had worked tirelessly to incorporate them into her fighting.

Her favourite form was the one she was using now, something Celeste referred to as the Intercepting Blade. It was a style that relied on speed, precision, and above all anticipation. The ability to read the opponent’s movements and then react, striking before they could react or adjust was crucial. Given how quick Shepard was, as well as her instinctive grasp of combat, it was a style she had quickly grown to love.

A slight twitch of her next opponent’s arm gave his moves away, and she used her superior speed to kill him before he could do anything more than start his attack. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a trio of pirates, and she guessed their intentions. She threw herself sideways and let the devices built into her boots grasp onto the wall. Running sideways along the wall, she parted one pirate’s head from his shoulder and then let herself fall, rolling under a shotgun blast before springing up and bisecting the shooter as she soared over him and landed behind the final pirate. He turned, knife flashing toward her throat, but she was ready. She parried the blow with one sword and then gutted him as he skidded past.

Silence reigned for a moment in the corridor before one of the pirates, who had somehow managed to survive being cut almost in half, raised his weapon in trembling hands - only to be pinned to the wall by an Aura construct spear through the eye. The weapon dropped out of his hands, and Celeste chuckled.

“You missed one.” At Celeste’s feet, her hamster was busy scanning the pirate’s equipment and packing it away into one of his subspace pockets. When one of the other pirates twitched, the hamster squeaked and fired a thin beam of electricity into the downed Batarian. Shepard had learned the hard way that war hamsters were deadly even without transforming. Celeste’s lips twitched. “And was all of the flipping and twirling really necessary?”

Shepard chuckled. “Not all of us can just point and have a storm of swords impale our opponents.” 

Celeste shrugged. “I won’t argue with that.” She summoned a glowing sword for herself and leapt to cut a hole in the ceiling. Several corpses tumbled down. There had been pirates crawling through an air duct. “But this facility really does have a lot of pirates in it. It’s rather aggravating.”

“It’s easy pickings with so few ships able to patrol at the moment.” Shepard knelt beside one of the bodies and frowned. She’d seen quite a few pirates wearing these badges. The last thing they needed was for the pirates to organise into proper groups instead of haphazard raiding parties. “By the way, you never did tell me who devised the Intercepting Blade.”

“Oh?” Celeste grinned. “The Intercepting Blade is a style that is heavily based on the techniques and tactics used by Saviour. To be honest, you really need some form of precognition or prediction to use it to its full potential.”

“Saviour?” Shepard’s brows furrowed. “As in the Semblance the Fleet Admiral has?”

“Yes. Maybe you'll get to see her use it someday, but I doubt there’s anything in this galaxy strong enough to warrant it.”

“Not even a Reaper?”

“Oh, she could kill one of those easily enough with her Semblance, but we’ve got other things that can do that too as you know. However, there are things back home that we do need Saviour to kill. Hopefully, none of those show up.”

“Let’s hope so.” Shepard shuddered. Some of the stories she’d heard about the Grimm made the Reapers seem positively pedestrian in comparison. Swarms numbering trillions of Grimm, some of which could consume solar systems? Insanity. “So are there any more pirates around?”

Celeste shook her head. “I’ve had my drones scan the rest of the facility. There aren’t any living pirates around. However, there are some personnel holed up in one of the more remote wings of the facility, so we should go tell them it’s safe to come out.”

“Ah. Right.” Shepard glanced at the two glowing swords she was holding. “Thanks for the swords, by the way.”

“It’s fine.” The swords vanished, and Celeste began to walk down the corridor with her hamster perched on her shoulder. “Weapons are meant to be used, and you looked as though you were really enjoying yourself. I’ll have to see if i can get you a plasma sabre.”

“A plasma sabre? I’m assuming that’s basically a sword made of plasma, right?”

“Basically. I won’t get into the specifics, but that’s pretty much correct. You’re not technically supposed to get one since it’ll be a while since your people get close to developing any, but I can handle the paperwork to authorise it.”

Shepard couldn’t wait. “You know, Liara thinks I’m becoming even more obsessed with weapons now that you guys are around.”

“I’m a Dia-Farron. True, I come from the more sensible side of the family, but I can hardly complain. When I was growing up, my cousins spent most of their free time building weapons that could smash cities. By the time I was an adult, they’d moved up to constructing planet-cracking weapons that were, technically, illegal but it wasn’t like anyone else in the family was going to say anything because everyone else was doing it too.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

A Shepard’s work is never done.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon. Please check out my newest story on Amazon. It’s called Monster Whisperer.

[themurphyzone]

Absolutely Disastrous Ch 5

AN: Eileen and Marcus Underwood are underused. We need more Underwood family!

Ch 5: We’ll Call it a Day! Everybody Rest Up!

Once they’d taken the path back to Littleroot, it was only a five-minute walk to Zack’s house. There wasn’t much to the residential area of town. All the houses were painted in simple, earthy shades that blended perfectly with the forest.

“Lee’s got the beanie. Lance does not,” Zack repeated for the fifteenth time. “Don’t mix them up unless you want to find whoopee cushions in your beds.”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry so much. Milo and I have plenty of practice differentiating between Absol. Twins are a piece of cake.”

Milo stood out of range so the door didn’t splinter into pieces while Zack turned the doorknob. He kept a lasso at the ready in case a stampede of wild Pokémon tried to carry anyone off.

Zack frowned, jiggling the doorknob a few times. “Weird. We don’t lock it during the day unless nobody’s home.”

Giggles erupted from inside the house.

“Who is it?” a child’s voice called.

“It’s me, Zack!” Zack sighed irritably. “Open the door!”

“Sorry, that’s not the password! Please try again at the sound of the beep!”

“Lee, I have something important to tell Mom and I’ve had a long day already. I’m not in the mood for pranks.”

“It was Lance’s idea!”

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Lee! Lance! I want to see those hands squeaky clean before dinner!” a woman scolded. “And don’t lock your brother out of the house!”

“Yes, Mom,” Lee and Lance chorused. They continued to bicker as their voices faded away.

The door swung open, revealing a woman in comfortable house clothes. Zack looked a lot like her. Her eyes flicked over to Melissa and Milo.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you two before,” she said kindly. “Not from around here?”

“I’m Milo and this is Melissa!” Milo exclaimed. Diogee huffed at being left out. “And my partner, Diogee. Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you!”

Diogee snorted.

“We’re from the Mt. Chimney area. And we all just became Pokémon Trainers!” Milo continued.  

The woman blinked in surprise. She studied Zack for a long time, who shrank back from the sudden scrutiny. Then she smiled. “Zack, I know you have better manners than this! Milo, Melissa, come inside for dinner. I want to hear how you two managed to convince my boy to become a Pokémon Trainer in the span of one afternoon. Oh, and you can just call me Eileen. Dr. Underwood is a mouthful for house guests.”

Eileen’s tone left no room for argument.

“Marcus called when you left the lab, but all he said over the phone was ‘Zack’s a Pokémon Trainer now’ before hanging up,” Eileen remarked as she set two extra places at the table for Milo and Melissa. “I love him, but that man always forgets to explain the important details. When he got his first Pokémon, he left home without telling his parents goodbye and they filed a missing person report for him! Sometimes he’s just the epitome of absent-minded professor.”

“We had to rescue Dad from a swarm of Magikarp. Some pirate guy was dumping them into the lake and disturbing the ecosystem,” Zack explained. “Milo and Melissa did most of the work on that.”

“You’re the one whose friends with a wild Gyarados,” Melissa said, gently punching Zack on the shoulder. “Stop selling yourself short.”

“Is it true?” Lee demanded, rushing out of the bathroom. His hands were still dripping wet. “Are you a-whoa!” He stared up at Diogee, mouth open in shock. He turned around, cupping his hands to his mouth. “LANCE! GET OUT HERE! THERE’S A COOL POKÉMON IN THE DINING ROOM!”

Diogee growled slightly as Lee tried to touch his fur with still-wet hands.

“Lee, go dry your hands and don’t let me catch you touching someone else’s Pokémon without permission again,” Eileen warned.

“But, Mom-“

“Argue and you won’t have cherry pie for dessert.”

Lee scampered off immediately.

“Mom, can you look over our Pokémon after dinner? We want them checked before we start training,” Zack asked, scooping up a handful of silverware from a drawer and setting them next to every plate. “Oh, and they need a place to stay the night.”

“It’s no issue,” Eileen said. She stirred a large pot of soup on the stove. “Dinner’s almost ready. Melissa, why don’t you take the spare room? There might be a few boxes you’ll have to move aside, but it’s cozy enough. And Milo, we don’t have another bed, but there’s an air mattress we can set up in Zack’s room.”

Milo showed her a deflated air mattress from his backpack. “It’s okay. I have five air mattresses in my backpack! As my dad always says, it’s always good to have one on hand for sleep emergencies and random Ducklett attacks!”

Eileen’s nose scrunched up in thought as she tried to figure out how an average sized backpack fit five air mattresses. “But Ducklett aren’t native to Hoenn.”

Melissa shook her head. “With Murphy’s Law, any species of Pokémon can appear anywhere at any time. Doesn’t matter if they’re native to the area or not.”

The flames on the stove suddenly flared up, almost engulfing the bottom of the pot. Eileen hurriedly turned a dial, and the flames sputtered out with a click.

“Oh, and random fires may crop up too. I’ll just leave this fire extinguisher here. Comes in pretty handy,” Milo said, placing a fire extinguisher in the corner.

After a few minutes, Eileen recovered. “Alright. You seem used to handling these…situations. Just go put down your things and I’ll have everything plated when you come back.”

The twins spent their dinner watching the Pokémon eat. Eileen had to remind them several times to take a bite of their own food.

“-and that’s why Sara swore off secretly watching weight-lifting competitions between wild Machop!” Milo finished. “So, what’s Littleroot like?”

“Not gonna lie. It’s boring. But just ignore my personal bias. I’ll always prefer the city myself. Did Zack tell you we lived in Olivine before?” Eileen said. “It’s sort of the Johto equivalent to your Slateport. Zack’s grandfather runs a Miltank farm just outside there.”

“My big brother fell into the Magikarp pond,” Lee giggled.

Zack almost choked on his soup. “Don’t tell them that!” he squeaked.

“It’s not exactly news to us,” Melissa said. “Besides, you’re not the only one with irrational fears. Take Milo for instance. He’s afraid of Ranseinese fingertraps.”

Zack raised an eyebrow. “Ranseinese fingertraps?”

“They’re a fiendish, diabolical trap that limits one’s dexterity while slowly suffocating the poor little capillaries,” Milo said. He was adamant that they were the worst traps known to mankind.

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Milo, you’re supposed to push your fingers in, It loosens the binding.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“Um, Milo?” Lance piped up. He shifted in his seat when everyone turned to him. “I just wanna know…what’s the stuff in Diogee’s food?”

Diogee growled protectively, nudging his food bowl away from prying eyes.

“Don’t worry, he wasn’t trying to steal your food,” Milo said soothingly. “Anyway, the red splotches in his pellets are Razz Berries. In addition to flavor, their hard shells also prevent an Absol’s fangs from growing too sharp. You don’t want them cutting their gums.”

Lance jumped out from his seat. “Sorrymomberightback!” he called over his shoulder as he rushed off.

Eileen placed a slice of cherry pie on Lance’s plate. “He wants to be a Pokémon Researcher like Marcus. Always writing down Pokémon facts and care tips in his notebook.”

Noticing that Mudkip and Torchic were trying to climb up the empty seat to get to the pie, Milo gently pulled them off. They protested as he deposited them next to their food bowls.

“No,” Milo said sternly. “That pie is for Lance.”

Torchic’s feathers puffed out, and Mudkip chewed on his wrist.

“They’re a handful,” Eileen remarked. “You might as well relax tonight because you’ve got some serious training to do on the road.”

Since Eileen said she worked better when people weren’t watching over her shoulder, nobody would be allowed in the house’s clinic while she conducted the Pokémon’s checkups.

Milo and Melissa took the opportunity to freshen up before joining Zack and the twins in the living room.

“What’s it like living around a bunch of Absol? What do they like to eat? What kind of disasters do they sense?” Lance fired all the Absol-related questions he could think of at Milo.

Milo answered him the best he could, pausing every once in while to make sure Lance had enough time to write his responses in his notebook.

Melissa, Zack, and Lee passed the time with a game of Poképoly. The Underwood siblings only had a few bills each, while Melissa had no shortage of money. Zack rolled the dice, then moved his Bellsprout piece to a space that had a plastic replica of the Indigo Plateau.

“I own Mt. Silver. That’ll be 2500 please,” Melissa smirked, holding out her hand expectantly.

“Extortionist,” Zack muttered, grudgingly forking over his remaining money. Because he didn’t have enough, Melissa took the remaining amount from the bank.

“First lesson of Poképoly, Lee. Show no mercy, not even to family. Crush ‘em. Make ‘em weep,” Melissa said. “Oh, and you wanna aim for the spaces around the jail area. More bang for your buck.”

Lee nodded vigorously, while Zack was less than pleased about Melissa teaching about the ways of ruthless corporatism.

“Zack, could I use your desktop to call my family?” Milo asked. “I promised them I’d call after we visited the lab.”

“I wanna meet your family!” Lance exclaimed.

“Me too!” Lee agreed.

“Okay, but try not to blow anything up,” Zack warned as he logged into the computer.

Milo shrugged, knowing that he couldn’t promise anything since Murphy’s Law would always find a way to surprise them. “I’ll try, but no promises.”

“Melissa, were you gonna call home too?” Zack asked.

Melissa shrugged, folding her arms defensively. “I already texted Dad. Besides, he’s probably got something at the fire department right now.”

After the fiasco in the helicopter, Milo couldn’t blame Melissa for wanting her space. But she and her dad would have to face each other in Lavaridge. Maybe the journey would give her time to think things over.

While Milo entered his username into the video chat service his family used, Eileen and the Pokémon came into the living room. Mudkip pawed at Milo until he was settled in his lap. Diogee laid by his feet, watching Mudkip from the corner of his eye. Meanwhile, Torchic and Treecko climbed all over Melissa and Zack.

“Your Pokémon are all healthy. After a hectic day, all they need is rest,” Eileen reported. “My only concern is Mudkip’s tendency to put things in his mouth. While it’s natural for young Pokémon to explore the world through taste and texture, your Mudkip is old enough to be a starter and should’ve outgrown that habit by now.”

Milo glanced down at Mudkip, who nibbled at a pocket on his shorts innocently. “I’ve noticed,” he admitted. “Can I train this out of him?”

“I suggest teaching him what he can or can’t put in his mouth. Yes for designated toys or food. No to body parts. You can probably find some toys at the Poké Mart in Oldale Town.”

“Okay, we’ll get some toys!” Milo agreed. “Thanks for the tip!”

“It’s my job,” Eileen said.

Sara answered the video call within seconds. “MOM! DAD! MILO’S CALLING!” she bellowed.

“Are things boring without us?” Milo teased.

Sara kicked back in her chair, sighing dramatically. “Boring’s an understatement. Now I don’t have anyone to gush about Dr. Magnezone with.”

“Don’t you have your friends in Mauville?” Melissa asked.

“Not the same! I’d be a laughingstock if I told them I shipped Dr. Magnezone with Clefablebelle!”

“You like Dr. Magnezone?” Lee gasped. “He’s the coolest person ever! I liked the episode where he tricked the evil Trubbishdroids into destroying their own fortress!”

“Sweet! Young fan! Always good to see the young people enjoying Dr. Zone!” Sara exclaimed. “So how do you know my brother?”

Lee pointed to Zack. “My brother brought him and Melissa home! We’re having one big sleepover tonight!”

Lance jumped in, obscuring Milo’s view of the screen. “Do you live on an Absol farm too? Are they just as cool as Diogee?”

Milo let the twins dominate the conversation, content to hang back for a while as he tried to gently dissuade Mudkip from chewing on his pockets. There were already several tiny holes in them, and he wanted his shorts to last.

After ten minutes, Brigitte and Martin joined in. “Sorry. Martin’s tie got stuck in the sink. I told you not to lean over the disposal, honey.”

“I got my guitar pick back though. Besides, I still have six more ties for the week,” Martin said. His tie hung in ribbons around his neck. “I see you’ve already made some friends.”

“We helped Zack rescue his dad from a pirate guy’s plot to release Magikarp into the local ecosystem,” Milo said. “You should’ve seen us! Zack’s friends with a Gyarados and Melissa’s really good at commanding two Pokémon at once!”

“Now this I gotta hear,” Sara said.

Zack tilted the camera to give them a better view of the Treecko on his head. “They forced me to run away from a giant boulder within five minutes of meeting me.”

“In our defense, we didn’t have time to explain certain details,” Melissa added.

Martin glanced outside, then held up a hand to stop Milo from retelling the story. “Sorry, can you hold on for a few minutes? I need to shoo some wild Geodude away from the outdoor furniture.”

Milo agreed, and the conversation shifted to Sara gushing over how adorable their Pokémon were. Torchic jumped onto the desk, peering into the camera curiously. Melissa pried Torchic off, accidentally knocking the computer mouse to the floor.

Before Zack could put the mouse back, a Linoone snatched it out of his hands.

“Hey!” Lee protested.

“Don’t let him out!” Melissa shouted. “Torchic, use Peck!”

Torchic darted towards Linoone, who jumped over her with the mouse clutched in his teeth. She rapidly pecked at the couch while Linoone continued his getaway.

You’ve never seen him before, this is just his debut!

He’s Recurring Linoone!

“I didn’t know you had ghosts,” Milo said. The Underwood house didn’t seem like the kind to hold any supernatural creatures.

Eileen hit the fleeing Linoone over the head with a broom, forcing him to drop the mouse. Then she opened the front door, sweeping Linoone outside before locking him out of the house. Melissa plugged the mouse into the computer, shaking it to make sure it worked.

“We don’t have ghosts. I have no idea where those annoying commercial jingle guys came from,” Zack said.

Wait, is this Pokéstar Studios? We’re supposed to be disembodied voice actors for a movie.

“Completely wrong region, man!” Melissa shouted in exasperation. “That’s in Unova!”

“How do you mistake a house in Littleroot for a studio?” Zack asked.

That’s the last time we let Disembodied Reggae Space Voice give us directions. Dude still can’t let go of how we forgot the marshmallows on our last camping trip. Sorry for the intrusion. Thanks for your help!

“We must never speak of this incident again,” Melissa swore.

Milo turned back to the computer screen. Brigitte and Sara took the interruption in stride.

Then Martin returned, plucking a mustard-covered branch out of his hair. “So, you mentioned stopping a guy who talked like a pirate?”

AN: I used imaginashon’s art and notes of Lee and Lance as a base for their personalities. They’re both really adorable and I really wish they’d appear in MML because I’m sure they’d be a riot.  

As much as I love fanfiction, a downside of this medium is how cartoon gags don’t translate well to text. Sometimes I feel like Murphy’s Law doesn’t happen as often as it should because I can’t just have random things explode because Milo happens to be there. So I try to include it in the situations the characters get into instead.

Ransei is the region in Pokemon Conquest. I know it’s based off feudal Japan but there isn’t a direct equivalent of China.  

Melissa has a 133-0 winning streak in Poképoly. She’s keeping it that way.  

[harryff]

Chapter Two Bellina.

*2 months later*

Bellina and Emiliano were at a sponsor show in Germany, there was no further communication between her and Harry, they brushed it off as never meant to be. Plus, both of their careers came first. It just so happens that Harry was on tour and his show was in Hamburg, Germany as well. Emiliano being the charmer he is got a few numbers and  found out about it so after the show he convinced her to go out.

“Come on let’s go” he said being giddy

“Where are we going?”

“To have fun duh?”

“It’s like 1am who is out this late?” she questioned

“The clubs it’s the weekend?” he made a face

“Fine” She wore all black. Black thigh high boots with black pants, a leather bandeau and a sheer top. Her eyes were bold as well as her bright red ombre lips. Her hair was pulled to the side in big bouncy curls that cascaded down her shoulder.

“I look ok?” she asked turning around to face Emiliano

“Yes darling, you look sexy!”

“Oooh naughty” she said commenting on his outfit

“I want like raunchy dancing today cuz we have got to let loose!” he commented

“Yes! Twerking and all”

They got in the cab and it drove around until it  pulled up to a hotel

Making a face she asked “Why are we at a hotel?”

With a sly grin he said “You’ll see”

“Umm what’s going on” she stopped in her tracks  

“Don’t worry about it” linking her arm with his he pulled her along

As usual the same body guard blocked them but Emiliano was able to talk to him after all it was Harry’s friends that invited him

“Umm isn’t that Harry Styles body guard” she asked looking back at him as they walked in

“Uh huh” he responded smiling

Her heart sank “No!” she stopped mid stride

“Yes! come on!” he said pulling her

“Why?” she asked looking around

“Because you need a life and I need to rub shoulders”

She huffed she was not anticipating seeing him again she instantly regretted her outfit because now she looked like a groupie in her mind.

“Hello! Hello! Hello!” he greeted walking in

Just to Harry’s surprise there they were walking in with him were the same friends except Liam and Louis had joined

“Oh look who it is” Katie commented

“Hey how are you?” Bellina  greeted the room, becoming shy again

“Wha’ are yeh guys doing here?”

“Katie invited us I hope that’s ok with you? and we are here to dance for sponsorship”

“Did you perform already?” Niall asked

“Yes!” he said sitting down

“How did that go?”  

“It went well she’s amazing as usual” she blushed “how was your concert?”

“Great fans’re amazin’ wouldn’ ask for anything else”

“So what are you guys getting into hmm?” Emiliano inquired

“Drinking cuz I have a few days off” he said raising his glass

“Well us too!” he said looking at Bellina and smiling

She rolled her eyes “No days off”

“Yea right! You on your own then sister” he joked back

Harry watched as she walked around she was definitely eye candy he flashed back to the conversation he had with Niall the day after his birthday party where he was urged to get her number but brushed it off as a onetime meetup. Niall looked at him and made a face he shook his head and watched Emiliano do his theatrics, while Bellina watched silently.

“Can you show us” Amanda asked

“Yes!” he walked over to Bellina “Bellina please” Emiliano said holding out his hand. She took it and did a mini routine.

“Do you guys not do anything sexy?” one of the girls asked

“OMG! Yes! we do and Bell always tries to out do me!” he said making a face towards her

“I do not!” she laughed

“Yes you do! let's do ‘All Nite’ By Janet Jackson and you all will see”  

They walked to the back of the room and waited for the music to que “ok watch!”  he said as the music started at some point during the routine he smacked her butt only creating dirty thoughts in Harry’s mind.

“That was hot!” Amanda complimented

“You see what she did!”

“I’m just dancing what” she said looking guilty

“Mhm”

“Ok let’s have a pow wow shall we Emiliano?”

He walked up to her “Yes darling”

“You know I love when you’re in the mood; you’re in your zone which is perfect”

He looked confused “Right”

“But my ass!”  he laughed “you hit it so hard I felt the pain in my bone.” She said holding her ass cheek “In my bone! then you grab it!” she made a face “it’s either or not both”

The room laughed

He laughed “Hey who doesn’t like to be spanked?”

“I feel a bruise forming. If I get a bruise you’re kissing it! end of discussion!” she spun around “what’s next?”

“So are you saying you don’t like to be spanked?” he asked walking backwards with a sly grin on his face looking at her in the mirror

“Of course good girls like to be spanked” she winked “but it was not the time for that. The shit hurt I had to turn my head from the mirror because you hit it so hard it’s not fair” she chuckled

“We know you have reinforced walls” he said raising his brows twice

She spun around “I have morals compared to whatever cardboard you call walls!” she joked

He gasped “feisty tonight”

“I’m gonna get you back for that shit if I could look at it now I would its stinging how did you even get to my bone I have enough junk back there!”  

“Hey it looked juicy!” he shrugged. The room exploded in laughter. After the laughter died down he said. “You know what you can do next?”

“What?”

“Sing” he said smiling ear to ear

She froze “No!”

“Do yeh sing too?” Louis asked

“No he’s a liar that’s my story I’m sticking to it!”

“See defensive so you know it’s true” Emiliano teased

“It is not!” she blushed

“She does it's soooo good”

They looked at her. “I don’t know what this guy is talking about he is delirious” which caused both of them to laugh “matter of fact he sings” she said dancing

As she was dancing Harry watched attentively  eventually she sat down far from him which only made him go up to her. “Hello luv”

“Hey how are you?” she said looking up at him

“Doin’ alright you kno’ wha’ m’gonna say” he said with his hand out

She blushed “yes” she said grabbing his hand. Even with her 6 inch boots Harry was towering her. Holding her hand, he sat down on the couch causing her to sit right next to him

“So what's your favorite song to perform?” she asked

“Oh its soo many I think I like ‘Kiwi’”

“Really?”  

“ ‘Ve yeh ‘eard it?”

She smiled “Yes”

“Wha’ do yeh think?”

“It’s umm como se dice?”  

He turned his body to face hers “Yeh speak Spanish?”

“Yes”

“Do yeh know French?”  

“Umm very little I would say no”

“Ok” he smiled

“But it’s very vivid let’s say that” she smiled

He smirked running his hands through his hair

Once again she found herself questioning why she found him attractive. Was it his voice, his eyes, the accent and the tone it was deep and she loved a deep voice. Was it that he was handsome? Was it because he is bold? It surely wasn’t his physique he looked like he wouldn’t know what to do with her body type seeing that she was significantly curvier in places his exes were not blessed. She blushed looking away. Maybe this was just a crush thing to never be more than that

“Wha’s that?”

“What?”

“Tha’ blushing thing yeh just did” he pointed out

“Oh nothing” which caused her to blush more

He smiled she was enchanted by a man she didn’t know. He was a mystery and maybe that’s why she liked him

Emiliano walked up to them “Darling” he said with his hand out

“Yes” she looked at his hand

“Please I promise not to smack your ass!” he joked

She rolled her eyes as they walked to the middle of the floor “Move your body” By Sia started to play  

He watched mesmerized.

“Can you teach us to do that?” Miranda asked

“Do what?”

“Dance like that” Louis said

“Yea come on” she said reaching for Harry’s hand

Putting his hands up he said “Oh no darling I don’ dance”  

“Anyone can dance. will you deny my gesture?” she said pouting

“How can I say no to tha’ face?”

“Ok you’re the leader I’m the follower” she said putting him in position

“Those of you who did this last it’s just like walking” Emiliano instructed

“He’s a better instructor I just expect you to move” she giggled

“Ok let me show you a routine with Bellian, may I?” he said grabbing her hand

“Yes” they did a simple routine

“See gentlemen all you do is walk or rather leaders, while ladies move those hips, we will switch leaders along”

They danced while Harry was smiling they eventually switched partners till they got back to their original partners.

“You did good!” she complimented. At that point the song switched to ‘Shape of You’ by Ed Sheeran “Ok just hold my hand I’ll do the majority of the dancing”

They moved around while she spun around and did samba moves by the end of the song they were in close quarters. He mouthed the lyrics at the end of the song ‘come on be my baby come on’

She smiled “you’re a natural dancer”

“You're better luv”

She stepped back smiling her hair was all over she had to smooth it out he refused to let go of her other hand

“How long are yeh in town for?” he asked pulling her closer

“Uh till Monday”

“Yeh kno’ wha’ I think?”

“What?”

“I think we should go on a date” he blurted out shocking himself and her

“Really?” she smiled

“Yea wha’ do yeh say?”  

“I would love that actually”

He smiled and nodded. By the end of the night they had exchanged numbers. The next day Harry had something's  he needed to take care of before he reached out to her they were to meet on Sunday and go for dinner. Emiliano was more excited than she was. All she did was doubt why they he wanted to go out with her. She decided on her natural hair which was curly and  placed in an up-do hairstyle. A midi long sleeve bodycon black dress. Neutral makeup red shoes and a black coat. She stood in the lobby waiting for Harry to show up 5 minutes later his bodyguard got her attention and took her to the back.

“Hello luv” he said opening his arms

“Hey” she said nervously hugging him

“We have to sneak out the bac’ hope you don’ mind”

“No not at all” she said walking besides him

“You look amazing” he said eyeing her from the side as they walked

“You do too thanks”

“So wha’ are you in the mood for?”

She shrugged “Anything”

“I say authentic German restaurant yea?”

“Yea” as they got to the back he held his hand out for her to grab as they walked down the steps

At the restaurant they sat in the back a secluded area away from the front. They ordered and the air was filled with awkward silence.

“So lets chat shall we”

“Ok about what?”

“Yeh!”

She made a face “Me”

“Yes, are yeh nervous?” He said asking her

“Yes” she said looking down embarrassed

“Why?” He asked looking for her eyes

She looked up before looking at him “Umm because you're Harry Styles you know, there’s weight behind your name I’m just a regular dancer and I know you're human but have a lot of weight behind your name I’m no one compared to your status”

“Remove the title ‘nd the status who’m I in this world?”

“You’re still a person I know. Very talented human being” she blushed

He smiled

“What about me do you want to talk about?” wanting to change the subject talking to him

“Why did yeh seem surprised when I mentioned a date?”

“You don’t date women like me Harry”

“Do you date men like me?” he countered

“No” she blushed

“What type of guys do you date?”

“Does it matter?”

He thought for a bit “Well no not really”

“I’m here let’s not worry about the type of guys I date or girls you date. But on the other hand definitely don’t date women like me. The models.”

“Just cuz I hadn’ met yeh yet”

She blushed “quite the charmer”

He smiled running his hands through his hair “Do yeh think yeh could handle a guy like me?”

She looked confused “What do you mean?”

“I have a hectic lifestyle I barely text or call people yeh think yeh could handle that?”

“You’ll text me”

“Wha’?” he smirked

With confidence she said “You will text me I guarantee that but yes I think I can!”

He actually blushed a little “I would luv’t come watch yeh dance”

“You’ve watched me dance!”

“Yea but in your gear outfits and all. I googled your name” he admitted

“Oh no you saw when I fell” she said covering her face

“You did it gracefully” he said taking her hands from her face

She smiled “thank you”

They had small conversation till their appetizers arrived Harry got soup

“This is really good!” he said after tasting it, lifting his spoon for her to taste “Go on luv” he urged

She sheepishly accepted the spoon in her mouth. “It is really good. Would you like to try mine?”

“No thank yeh luv”

They ate in silence till the desert came

“Wha’s you’re favorite desert?”

“Ice cream!, you have to try my desert it’s really good”  she said returning the gesture and putting the spoon up to his mouth he licked his lips before accepting the spoon

“Mmm” he moaned

“Chocolate man’s best friend. You’re lucky I even shared with you” she stated

“Seriously” he laughed

“I don’t share my desert with anyone I’m stingy when it comes to this. Meals are only had just so I can get to this, the desert.”

He made a face “A bit of sweet tooth, yea?”

“Yes it’s a problem I should stop so mu…  I just have a problem”

“Why don’ yeh sing?”

She shrugged “Because it's for fun nothing else”

“Would yeh ever sing to me?”

“Why do you want me to sing to you?” she asked shocked

He shrugged “i'll sing to you if yeh ask me to”

She shook her head “You shouldn’t sing unless you want to”

“It was really kind of yeh to get me a birthday gift I never got my dance by the way”

“Treat others with kindness. Right?” He smiled  “Plus who shows up to a party without a gift?” she challenged

“When’s yeh birthday?”

“In September”

“So 's comin’ up”

She nodded “yes”

“Wha’ do you want?”

“Nothing…. world championship. World domination” she joked

He laughed “A bit of a dark side to yeh. When was the last time yeh went on a date?’

“It’s been long” she said taking a drink

“How long?”

“2 years” she said softly

“2 years?! tha’s outrageous! We have to change tha’ then don’ we?”

She blushed

The next stop was a museum

The walked around looking at art. Slipping his hand into hers she smiled as they walked around. “So what interesting hobby do you have?” She asked

“ ‘M a baker”

She laughed “No you're not”

He chuckled “Yes I am I used to work at a bakery for this French family”

“What's you're favorite thing to bake?”

He smiled “cookies, they are challenging you can either over bake them or not bake them enough, it takes patience and skill”

She nodded smiling

“Yeh?”

“Uh calligraphy”

“Really?”

“Yea it's fun for me anyway”

At the end of the date Harry took her back to the hotel

“I hate to say goodbye” he confessed

“See you later?”

He smiled “Much better” he pulled her in close

“I had a lot of fun though thank you for this”

He got closer he put one arm around her waist while the other caressed her cheek he blushed

“What?” she said looking up at him

He shook his head he wanted to kiss her but didn't know how to initiate it

Inching closer he said “I had a lovely time Bell” he was inches away from her lips “you look beautiful” leaning in he placed a kiss on her lips. He followed with another. The kiss was short and sweet ending with Eskimo kisses. She blushed looking up running her fingers through her hair. “I kno’ yeh  have to leave tomorrow maybe we can do breakfast?”

“I would like that”

“Good night luv” he said kissing her knuckles he watched her as she retreated to her room and went to his.

[leiascully]

Fic:  An heni a vez e grass ar merc’hed 4/?

Taking a leap here.  WWII AU, PG-13, wartime trauma and injuries, mentions of Nazis.  French puns.  Names changed to reflect the time and place.  The Syndicate are Nazi-adjacent but working for a different new world order. Title is from a Breton proverb, but I just used the part that means “he who has the grace of women”.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

He got up the next morning and hobbled to the kitchen, where Marguerite fed him porridge.  "We nearly always have a few guests," she told him, "and the villagers like to come for lunch.  There is always work to do."  

He had been dimly aware that there were others in the inn, aside from the Scullys, who seemed to live in a small house built onto the main building behind the kitchen.  Monique lived in the inn, as far as he could tell; he heard her sometimes in the middle of the night, settling arguments or quieting concerns.  They were all busy from dawn to dusk and beyond.  He had not lightened that load, with his many needs and his helplessness.  

"I will help as much as I can," he said, and she nodded approvingly.  Maelice brought him potatoes and carrots to peel.  He stretched out his leg under the table and made a game of it, trying to get the longest curls of peel.  Émilie had come into the kitchen and she watched him solemnly.  Her hair was braided around her head.  He wondered if Dana had done it, with the same hands that had cut into his leg, or whether Marguerite or Maelice or Monique had sat the child down and brushed her hair smooth.  He had done the same with Sanne, years ago, before she'd learned to do it herself.  He still remembered the twists and turns of it, his fingers clumsy at first and then nimble as his mother patted his shoulder stiffly and thanked him a rusty voice, drifting through the room on her way to somewhere else, leaving the scent of smoke behind her.

He was tenant in a house full of women who had little use for him; he was grateful that they let him do some work, as much as he was fit for anymore.  He had a sense that Émilie knew it too, how little value he brought with him.  But he had grown up caring for Sanne, and he knew a thing or two about entertaining children.  He carved a face into one of the potatoes and handed it to her.  She looked at him and giggled and scampered into the other room to play.  

Maelice, crushing garlic with a knife, smiled at him.  "She'll adore you now."

"I have a sister," he said, and wondered if he ought to use the past tense, and then hated himself for the thought.  "We had to entertain ourselves."

"You've done well," she said.  "We don't have much time to play these days.  It's nice for her to have something of her own."

They worked in comfortable silence.  Mulder diced the potatoes and sliced the carrots.  Maelice gathered them all and rinsed them while the garlic sizzled in the pot with onions and a bit of lard.  When she tipped the vegetables in, they sizzled and sent up steam that made tendrils of hair curl around her forehead.  She brushed them back.

"Now what?" he asked.

She smiled.  "Now we wait.  It's the most important part of cooking."

She poured out glasses of cider for each of them.  He tasted it tentatively.  It wasn't as strong or as sweet as the chouchen.  It fizzed on his tongue, the flavor of autumn orchards and wet leaves.  He swallowed it and Maelice smiled again.  

"The cider of Bretagne is famous," she said.  "Another thing we fear to lose if your compatriots gain control of our land."

"They're not my compatriots," he told her.  

"Your uniform said otherwise," Maelice said.  "Or else I imagine the price of impersonating a German officer is death?"

"I am an officer," he said, "but I'm not German, and I'm certainly not a Nazi."

"Oh?" Maelice said, the lift of her eyebrow offering an opportunity to explain, but just then Dana walked into the kitchen.

"And which one of you created Monsieur Patatez?" she asked.  "Émilie will coddle it until it's a shriveled husk,  I swear."

Maelice pointed at Mulder, who held up his hands in surrender.  

Dana crooked her eyebrow up in unknowing imitation of her sister.  "I should have suspected."  She sat down next to him.  "Newly healed and already creating chaos among us."

Maelice laughed.  "We won't be divided by any man," she said.  

"No," Dana agreed.  "We won't."  She looked at Mulder, who pushed the potato peels into a heap.  "It might be best if you keep to the kitchen for a while.  The old men yesterday were asking questions."

"They are true Bretons," Maelice murmured, something unidentifiable in her voice.

"Hush," Dana said, but it didn't sound as if she disagreed.  "I told them you were a cousin of Monique's, sent here to recover from your wounds, but they won't accept that forever.  Better if it looks like we're putting you to work."

"A cousin of mine?" Monique asked, coming in from the yard with a bucket of milk in each hand.  "Well, at least we've both got dark hair."  She set the buckets on the counter.  "That's the cow's," she said, touching the right hand bucket.  "And that's the goats'."  

Dana dusted her hands on her skirt and stood up, offering Mulder a hand.  "Come on.  I'll teach you how to make chèvre."  

He followed her to the stove, where she taught him how to pour the goat milk into the pot and heat it not quite to the boil, how to add lemon, how to chop and add the herbs.  The steam curled the wisps of her hair just like Maelice's.  He looked at her through the slightly sour clouds of vapor and something inside him softened.  Her lips curled up at the edges, just slightly, and he softened again.  There was a family here, and he was in some way a part of it, however they held him at arm's length.  He understood.  He deserved to be no closer.  He was grateful for any in they gave him.  He hefted the pot and helped her strain the cheese through cloth.  Together they were making something better, even if it was just cheese out of milk.  

 The hot curds cooled in their hammock of cheesecloth.  Dana twisted the cloth until the whey ran out.  She added salt, herbs, and a little garlic, and then rewrapped it and set it between two stone cutting boards with a heavy pan on top to squeeze out the rest of the whey.  

"There," she said.  "That will be lovely on toast later."

It was such a peace-time thing to say.  He could only look at her for a moment, her face flushed and lovely from the steam.  The curve of her smile turned wry.  

"Even I can't fight every moment, Capitaine Reynard," she said.  "Thank you for the potato.  Émilie likes it very much."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maelice smile and Monique shake her head fondly.  

"You're welcome," he said.

They had goat cheese on toast with the stew for dinner, all of them sitting together at one of the tables in the kitchen.  It was, indeed, delicious.  Émilie held tightly to Monsieur Patatez with one hand as she pushed cheese into her mouth with the other.

"Say thank you for the potato, Émilie," Dana said, that same wry tone in her voice.

"Trugarez," Émilie said through a mouthful of toast, and then hopped down and ran off on her own mysterious errands.  

"You'll learn Breton trying to talk to her," Monique said.  

"As you should," Maelice said.  "Breton is a beautiful language, full of mysticism."

"Breton is a beautiful language which no one will use in a few decades," Dana said.

"I have an optimist and a skeptic," Marguerite said fondly to Mulder, "and an adopted daughter somewhere between."  She patted Monique's hand.  Monique squeezed Marguerite's hand.

"And what language will you share with us?" Monique asked.  "Your native language is certainly not French."

Mulder shook his head.  "It certainly isn't.  I can teach you Dutch in return for Breton."

"Dutch?"  Monique's gaze sharpened.

Dana got up from the table.  "Unravel his mysteries later, Monique," she said.  "It's getting late."

"Oh, I will," Monique said, and winked.  Marguerite laughed.  Dana rolled her eyes. 

He slept peacefully that night, and rose early.  Cooking and cleaning were worthier employments than war, even such work on the outskirts of war as he had been doing.

He worked in the kitchen every day, stirring stews, mixing batter for galettes, chopping and peeling whatever needed to be chopped and peeled.  He paced around the kitchen, back and forth.  His leg still ached, but he could feel himself getting stronger.  Dana watched him walk and pronounced him firmly in recovery.

"I'm afraid you'll always need the cane," she said.  "But keep up the walking and you will get stronger."

"I will," he said.  

"It shouldn't matter if you're seen now," she told him.  "The villagers found it easy enough to accept that Monique would have a cousin come here.  They are skeptical of the city, you see."

"What did you mean when you said the men in the dining room were true Bretons?" he asked.  

"Surely you know about the Breton nationalists," Dana said.

He shrugged.  "However ironic it may seem, I'm not very well-informed when it comes to politics.  Monique said a little, and you mentioned something the other day, but I imagined they were collaborators.  That doesn't seem exactly right."

She sighed.  "There are those who support an independent Bretagne, free from French rule.  They are willing to go so far as to collaborate, even independently of Vichy if they must, because they believe that the Germans will aid them if they support the Reich.  You are correct to say that they are not exactly collaborators.  They have their own ends, beyond just saving their skins.  They imagine a Bretagne free of French influence, whatever that might look like.  They have taken the triskèle as their symbol, and they have let the Germans dictate to them."  

"But the Germans have attacked Bretagne, haven't they?" he asked.

Her gaze made it clear she thought he wasn't much of a soldier, and privately, he agreed.  "There was the bombardment of Rennes in 1940.  There have been others.  That might have changed minds.  However, the Allies have not done much to hold onto this place, either with military or philosophical might."

He nodded.  "And you?  You aren't Breton?"

She lifted one shoulder.  "We are Breton, certainly.  This very inn used to bear the triskèle.  We value our heritage.  But we are French.  Les Gaulois were not limited to this peninsula.  We may be closer here to our Celtic roots and the holy places of our ancestors than the Provençals or the Bourguignons, but we don't believe that the price the Breton nationalists are willing to pay will buy the future they dream of, or redeem the past they have imagined."

"I see," he said.

"My family is passionate about the military," she said.  "I grew up understanding the importance of loyalty.  We sing La Marseillaise, we celebrate le Jour de la Bastille."  She moved to the stove to stir the stew.  "Every region has its own history.  To imagine that we are the only exceptional ones does a disservice to the rest of our countrymen.  If my father and my brothers can't trust the men beside them because they're from Aquitaine or Pas-de-Calais, what's the use?"

He thought of his father and his father's colleagues, a strange and shadowy collection of men from different origins, with their strange and shadowy goals, united by something other than homeland or patriotism.

"I understand," he said.

"We are beset from all sides," she said, and oddly, smiled.  

"You're happy about this?" he asked.

"My father would say that when we stand in opposition to those who would overpower us, we discover who we are," she said.  "Our strength hasn't failed us yet."

"If all the French are as strong as you, I have no doubt you will free yourselves from the Reich," he said.

"Shall we turn you out?" she teased.  

"Mercy," he pretended to beg, as if the pang in his heart weren't real.  

"Maelice and my mother have soft hearts," she told him.  "And Émilie would scream if I told her I was sending away the artist of Monsieur Patatez."  

"So I'm safe for now," he said.

"For now," she agreed.  "As long as there are potatoes."

"I'll make sure your garden thrives," he promised.

"It will be a long summer," she said.  "Your talents might be better suited to other pursuits."

"If I can't kneel to weed the garden, perhaps I can muck out the stables," he offered.  "That still serves to ensure there will be potatoes."

"Ah yes," she said.  "Assuredly you know all there is to know about manure."

"Yes," he said solemnly.  "I've spent my life up to my knees in it."

She laughed, and the bright merriment of the sound startled him.  "We shall all be grateful for your expertise, Monsieur Capitaine," she said.

"I live to serve," he promised.