#you know what i mean?? my brain's dead after a weird nap but yeah

[tis-i-bi-oxirito]

Ok ok, so I have a (possibly bad) theory that isn’t really a theory but more my brain trying to figure stuff out

So, ever since Kingdom Hearts III, I’ve kinda been wondering, in the back of my messy, messy mind, why Ephemera helped (? I’m guessing he was the one leading the fallen kids, at least) Sora at the Keyblade Graveyard.

I mean, I get why, big heartless storm, xehanort being xehanort, xehanort being Ephemera’s descendent (that was kinda confirmed right? I don’t remember for sure) which kinda makes him his responsibility a bit, yada yada yada.

It’s more like, why didn’t he do it before. Like, it’s not the first confrontation against old man Xehanort chronogically in the series. Why didn’t Ephemera help at the confrontation at the end of BBS? I mean, Ven was his friend, surely he’d want to help him not, you know, die or even just get turned into a weapon of mass destruction? (I gotta mention: Vanitas gets helped by the fallen kids’ keyblades during that confrontation iirc, so was that because of the darkness? Because he used to be part Ventus so he kinda counts as a union leader? Why wasn’t Ven helped by the keyblades then? Did Ephemera try to help Ven but accidentally chose the wrong one (oopsie teehee, oh well, better luck next time)? Anyways that’s weird and has always bothered me ever since I knew whose keyblades those were)

One of the explanations I can see for Ephemera no helping then is that Xigbar was running interference or something. I guess he didn’t interfere in KH III because of the Book of Prophecies or something, idk. Maybe Ephemera also didn’t act because of something in the Book of Prophecies, idk, I’m just trying to find some explanations

(Actual theory under the cut ahah)

But yeah, anyways, my bad theory

It came to me, as I was eating tortellini in the dark at 11:30 PM after taking a longer-than-planned 5 hours nap, what if… Sora was Ephemera’s reincarnation? Ok ok that’s a really shaky theory, I’ll admit it, but I don’t control was goes on in that brain (ahah, Brain) of mine

In any case, back to what I was saying, tortellini, 5 hour nap, Sora is maybe Ephemera’s reincarnation, ok, right, yes, back on track. So, Ephemera totally, very definitely died, right? It’s been like, a couple of centuries most likely, so he is either super dead, some kind of ghost just haunting the Keyblade Graveyard, or he’s the world’s oldest grandpa. From what we’ve seen in khux, when someone dies (or at least a keyblade wielder) for realsies (kingdom hearts death tends to be, ha, ephemeral), they either become a dream eater or they go in the reincarnation cycle or whatever (from what I remember at least, it’s been a minute). So either Ephemera turned into a cute colourful animal that 100% deserves a pet, or he went on to reincarnate, ya know?

(He could have also said ‘fuck you rules of the universe, I never liked you anyways’ and created a third option for himself out of sheer will. If anyone could, it would be him)

But yeah anyways, that could explain why he only shows up, cool red scarf swaying in the wind anime style, to Sora. Like, maybe a small tiny part of his soul (heart?) remained

It could also explain why Sora’s heart healed Ven’s at the beginning of BBS. There’s the reason that Sora’s heart was a newborn one of course, but if he was Ephemera’s reincarnation, then it’s not hard to believe that he would be drawn in by Ven’s presence.

Also, Ephemera has an association with the color red due to his scarf. You know who else is usually associated with red? Sora (and Lea, whose entire existence is red, but this ain’t about him)

(I have also thought of the possibility that Sora is maybe Ephemera’s descendant instead, but that would mean that he’d be related to Xehanort which is wild, but I do think that that theory is even more shaky than the reincarnation one. Tbh, I think that Riku being Ephemera’s descendant could be more likely, which, again, would make him related to old man Xehanort. Omg i just had an idea for an AU where Riku is actually Xehanort’s son/grandson, but that’s a story for another day i guess)

So, yeah, here’s my bad and unlikely theory. This is my first time making a post of this kind and I still don’t know how tumblr works so I’m very sorry if this looks like an incomprehensible mess. Thanks for reading though :)

[absainte]

it's me - a flaming trash pile! flaming as in gayer than you. you welcome.

i had things to write about but depression my brain and demanded seconds.

this post is to say that i might be offline for a few days, because i'm finally able to solve a phone issue. for once it isn't me overusing technology and setting it on fire but it's my mum who kills mobiles for breakfast. i mentioned it before - her device kicked the bucket a year or so ago and we had to buy a whole arse newish phone as a backup because our drawer of nokias can't run whatsapp. hotels in glasgow would collapse without that precious app where everyone sends passive-aggressive emoticons or david beckhams and babies (like my mum).

she broke the backup phone without even trying. it sort of works but the cpu is very close to leaving for greener ... silicone pastures (i'm so funny). sounds simple right? yeah, not if you're your average group of people and we know what happens with those... we created an unholy ouroboros of phones. i can't even tell why we ended up like this, because it sort of doesn't make sense. the dead piece of fancy metal and glass was actually my mobile and i know that i didn't have it for long, because ... my mother had murdered her older phone which had been replaced after she had brutally killed her ex's spare phone. and why did she have that? my older device was with my own ex's dad while he was with his stepfather. anyone understands any of this? you're better than me, because i was using my mum's phone for the last two years :) . if anyone wonders why would we buy a spare phone if there was one - i dunno. did i have two phones and give her one while i retained the other one, which later was replaced?

maybe. all i know is that it was around the time i had a heart failure. neither me nor my mum remembers much from that riveting time and yet we somehow managed to buy a car at some point or rather - we stared at the walls while the staff at the local garage did everything. i would side-eye that to as who in their right mind would switch off thinking when doing business with the scammiest industry? we happen to have a garage with a good dealership and i shit you not - people there are honest and helpful, which means that we are spoiled.

back to my boring rambling - the missing phone from the circulation was my own. mum had a contract glitch last year when her phone died and everyone was too tired to fix it while mine was fine. we fixed it last month. so, have i been procrastinating for a month? nope - my missing phone got properly lost in the mail. i ordered it with a load of parts to replace, because i used mum's phone like a computer and it overheated loads therefore i need to replace the casing and the screen. i have em and i have spare ones and all those dull protective bits and bobs. did not have the unit, though and it took hours of weeping to customer service but finally managed to resolve it and now i have everything with me in bed. yes, i'm sleeping with all of that. i deserve a little treat - a little victory nap.

in other news - my left eye decided it dislikes astigmatism and half-fixed itself by reversing in the direction it is meant to be on (the lens did). it's weird. it never happened to me that my eye was better. i'm waiting for it to explode.

and we're meant to have guests in september. double-guests as friend i saw few posts ago will also be in town.

i'll see you soon internet. hopefully. did i mention that i was meant to update the router because bt said so and the new one is just ... in the hallway? still laminated and boxed along with half of my life that exists in other boxes. me and my mun will just throw them out (not the router!) as glasgow lacks any honest and transparent donation centres. mcmillian is okay in england but dunno how it's in scotland. there's thing there that i like but ... i'm too traumatised - if i gave up on a whole pc (it also had industrial cooling), then it says something.

we also currently work the best at 4-5 am, because. my mum yesterday exclaimed that what ex done was actually illegal (overall, i don't mean anything related to stuff - i did write to his family to just take it and use it or sell it or burn it. things are just things) and without getting into even more details - yeah, she's right and I knew that. considered it at my worst, before i confirmed that he is alive - if he had a court summon, he'd need to respond to it, so it was a method that i thought about but even if his actions were beyond horrid - i'd feel petty. i have a tiny, tiny, little pixel of pride left. not that i'm nice - i just want to have that classic revenge of being fabulously happy and making him jealous. i wouldn't need to see it, i'd just know. it is unlikely but maybe one day... when i am 99.

okay, the invisible audience of mine - signing out and resting my frizzy hair. it needs its beauty sleep.

[msommers]

i'd love to hear who of your OCs (or anyone's OCs!) u think elena would be cute with now that donny's fucked his chances LMFAO

thank you boo xoxox // alternate LI meme

first off, loving the savagery here. rip in pieces donny you were screwed from the start, and not in the fun & sexy way i’m sure you were hoping for. tragic

with my own ocs, zero time into thinking them ideas would be that elena would be sweet with jaime or lucinda. i actually Have had thoughts recently about elena/emma tho, don’t even remember why but they were up there in the brain and i think they’d be so cute. they both suffer from the weight of perceived expectations of others which they would recognize in each other and have the most insufferably soft thread of helping each other through that. i highkey think emma would gravitate towards elena based off her reputation alone because hearing about a sweet, divine gifted girl who has dedicated her time to helping and healing the folk in her city would bring out the biggest 👀👀 energy in little miss druid over here who has also been offering her abilities to help others for years. they’d bond over baking together and gushing over their favorite books 🥰

off the cuff interesting dynamic vibe checks (that don’t necessarily have to be romantic) for others’ ocs would be @cityandking‘s vesper (introvert demi recognizes introvert demi, both have big acts of service energy, cute height difference, a realist to elena’s blind optimism, elena would be fascinated to sit down with her and listen about some historical topic vesper’s into, and in thedas she’d be interested in the topics of power and politics from vesper’s unique standpoint as herald/inquisitor tbh) & @derelict-heirs‘s greyson (purely bc their height difference would be really funny and they’re both sweethearts and also they both have smiles made of pure sunshine you would melt in their combined warm presence thank u for coming to my ted talk). there are probably a lot more than could be suiting but brain machine broke, this doubles as a free call for cute dynamic chats if anyone has kids they’d think would get on with miss sunblessed over here

[absolutepokemontrash]

Aaa congrats on 666 :D you've been one of my favorite obey me blogs since I joined the fandom! can I request the brothers with an mc that looks/acts like they just walked out of a zombie apocalypse? Turns out that while the demons werent looking, things in the human realm went down hill ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

👀 I love this! Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy!

Lucifer

When Solomon popped down into the Devildom earlier, Lucifer had noticed that the sorcerer looked a tad… concerned. After he left, Lucifer thought nothing of it until the second human exchange student appeared brandishing a gun and looking like they hadn’t showered in eight days.

After managing to disarm the human and avoiding the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, Lucifer managed to explain exactly why the human was in the Devildom and what was going on. In return, the human calmed down and explained what was going on in the human world.

…geez, shit really hit the fan. Uh… Lucifer wished them luck in their exchange year and foisted them off on Mammon. Lucifer was not about to deal with that right then.

(Apparently one of Solomon’s necromancing acquaintances had something to do with the mini apocalypse going on in the human world. Lucifer and MC were assured that the zombie problem was being dealt with)

As confused and annoyed as Lucifer was at first, he quickly became glad that the human had some kind of self defence on them. The Devildom was a dangerous place, and the human could nullify some of that danger by popping a bullet or twelve into some idiots’ heads.

But one of MC’s more annoying habits were their tendency to set traps and hoard food. They didn’t seem to grasp that lack of food wasn’t an issue and that there were plenty of spells in place to make sure-

Okay, Beel just raided the fridge. Maybe MC had the right idea. Up for sharing some spaghetti-o’s?

Mammon

Now listen here! The Great and Amazing and Mega-Sexy Mammon wasn’t scared of the human at all! Got it?! Good. He wasn’t scared of how dishevelled and dirty they were and how they looked like they just crawled out of a horror movie! Not at all! He also wasn’t scared of the baseball bat they threatened to hit him with if he continued to spout threats of eating them.

Pff, he wasn’t scared… totally not scared… *ahem*

Once the human took a bath and stopped pointing their various weapons at him, Mammon quickly began to warm up to the human in their own tsundere kind of way. Fine, he could admit that MC was kinda cool.

The one thing that Mammon just couldn’t deal with was MC’s traps… he kept setting them off while trying to get into MC’s room!

Oi! Don’t look at him like that! He wasn’t tryin’ to steal anything! He also wasn’t goin’ in there to hang out with the dumb human either! Wasn’t goin’ in there to check on em’ and make sure they were comfortable…

Mammon is also #2 in terms of food theft in the house. He just spotted ramen and decided that possibly getting hit with MC’s baseball bat of pain was worth getting his greedy little mitts on some dollar store noodles.

Leviathan

When Levi went downstairs to threaten Mammon for his money back, Levi immediately recoiled at the absolutely fowl smell coming from the human. Ew, normie stink was getting all over him! And why did they look like they just walked out of TellTale’s The Walking Dead?

Once MC explained their situation, Levi took it upon himself to mansplain the zombie apocalypse to the poor human that was going through it. He had played plenty of zombie survival games and he was surely the expert-

AAKSJAKAJANA- PUT THE BAT DOWN! HE’LL SHUT UP! HE’LL SHUT UP!

After that was over and done with, Levi decided it would be his job to reintroduce MC to some quality entertainment. There couldn’t be that many good shows to watch in the apocalypse, so MC (starved for entertainment) agreed to watch whatever Levi wanted.

Food hoarding? Been there done that. Levi keeps at least ten boxes of Pocky in his room at all times, and a crap ton of other snack foods too. That habit doesn’t phase Levi.

The traps on the other hand? HELL YES TEACH HIM MC! THAT’LL WARD OFF SOME SCUMMY MORONS! *insert Levi cackle here*

Satan

Satan was amongst the people who had the privilege of getting a gun pointed at them on the first day of the exchange program. He kept his fake little smile on his face, but he sure as hell wasn’t too pleased with the human.

He kept his distance at first, studying MC from afar and taking note of their weird little habits. Satan found it quite interesting how quickly this seemingly average human adapted to their new circumstances.

After the body switching incident and the murder train incident, Satan developed a fondness for MC. But… maybe MC shouldn’t have brought their weapons with them on one of their hangout sessions with Satan.

It was on that day that MC learned that Satan was as good a shot with a gun as they were… Rest in Pieces to the idiot that decided fucking with the Avatar of Wrath would be a good idea.

The traps… oh yes the traps… that exact skill set transferred perfectly to pranks! Oh if MC would be so kind as to let Satan teach them the way of the bastard (tm) so the two of them could annoy that pompous peacock together?

Asmodeus

Ewwwww! What was that awful stench coming from the- EWWWWW! Why was the human so gross and dirty! Someone get the hose! They summoned a feral one!

Asmo was less concerned with the fact that the human was threatening everyone with an actual weapon and more concerned with how they smelled like a month old macaroni salad.

MC got a bottle of admittedly pleasant smelling soap thrown at them before Mammon dragged them off to the HOL.

Despite the nasty first impression, once MC took a much needed bath and washed all that gross grime off of themselves… they were honestly really hot… man, apocalypses should happen more often if they produce babes like MC~ *eyebrow wiggle*

Though, the poor human still needed some work, Asmo declared himself their fairy goddaddy (I regret ever learning how to type) and took every opportunity to make sure MC looked their best and took care of themselves.

MC’s odd habits don’t exactly phase Asmo much, I mean, look at who he lives with.

Beelzebub

…he doesn’t wanna eat this human.

Listen, Beel will eat anything, but if he has other options, he’s not eating the gross dirty human pointing a gun at him.

At first, Beel’s pretty neutral towards anything and everything MC ends up doing. They barricaded themselves in their room to keep safe out of habit? Okay. They scarily polish and clean their weapons out in the middle of the living room? So does Satan on occasion. They cleared out the fridge- wait they cleared out the fridge?

BEEL WAS GOING TO DO THAT! PREPARE TO BE EATEN, HUMAN!

MC miraculously survived a hungry Beel attack by chucking food at him until he calmed back down. Beel felt a little bad for scaring them, but anyone with more than five brain cells should know not to steal food from the Avatar of Gluttony.

Anyway, once the two get closer, Beel’s always there for a hug and comfort if MC needs it. Just don’t let him near the food hoard. He will reduce it to nothing in less than an hour.

More than 90% of the traps that get set off are set off by Beel trying to get into MC’s room for food.

Belphegor

Father Dammit, Belphie wanted a nice easy defenceless human to murder, not this Rambo-lookalike. Whatever, sure the human looked tough, but Belphie’s a demon.

Well… Belphegor’s plan went to shit when he was in the middle of choking the human, who pulled out a gun and nearly shot him in the eye. He ended up dropping them in surprise when the bullet grazed his face and ended up getting MC’s boot planted into his forehead.

Yeah… Belphie did not fare well. MC: 1 Belphie: 0

After that nonsense, Belphie demanded begged that MC become his full time nap guardian. They were scary and could protect him, the totally defenceless war criminal 🥺, come on MC, don’t be heartless!

Similar to Asmo, Belphie isn’t too phased by MC’s weird habits. As long as they don’t try and steal his pillows, he’s okay. Those traps though… perfect for a certain older brother of his…

He joins in on Satan’s crusade to get MC to join the Anti Lucifer League. Puh-LEEEEEEEAAAAAASE MC?

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker Ever

Summary: Baji dares you to call Mikey a ‘piss boy.’ You’re an idiot, so of course you say you’ll do it. Things don’t go as planned...or do they?

Pairing: Sano Manjirou | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): mentions of omorashi (pissing), but there’s no actual pissing involved

You’re gonna die. Oh, dear God, our holy Lord and savior, you’re gonna fucking die.

Baji may be an idiot, but you’re an even bigger idiot for letting him convince you to call Mikey a piss boy.

It’s a pretty damn good trade-off, you foolishly reasoned when you accepted his offer: $10 and a spin on his motorcycle, which is basically hitting the jackpot for a broke, motorcycle-less middle schooler like yourself.

Now, what you failed to take into consideration, is that you’d literally be risking your life. Had you taken a step back and used your brain for a second or two, you would’ve realized that calling Mikey, of all people, a ‘piss boy’ isn’t worth the measly $10 Baji is currently waving in the air from across the room.

You open your mouth to chicken out. Baji pulls out another $10.

“You wanna waste your allowance? Fuckin’ fine,” you grumble under your breath, making damn well sure your icy glare is received and, yeah, the irritating smirk that widens across Baji’s face when you continue on your path to your demise means your message is read, crystal clear. He just doesn’t give a shit.

Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and practically march towards where Mikey is casually munching on fresh taiyaki, legs crisscrossed as he sits atop an old crate.

Oh, man. What would’ve been worse: interrupting one of Mikey’s naps or interrupting him mid-snack?

(Un)Luckily, you get to experience one of them today!

When your footsteps lead you to where you don’t want to be, you stop to stand directly in front of your target, who doesn’t immediately look up in your presence. Simply keeps munch, munch, munching.

It gives you a chance to hesitate, a chance to rethink your reckless decision, a chance to back out and save yourself from a one-sided ass beating.

Alas, the chance to make that split-second decision vanishes when deep, dark eyes flicker up to meet yours, the owner’s expression reading that he’s not exactly bothered to see you there, rather, simply curious to know what you want.

It’s the perfect moment to get this bet over and done with, so, along with your prayers, you just go outright and say it.

“���Sup, Piss Boy.”

Mikey stops chewing, and you already feel your heart about to burst out of your chest.

The room comes to a dead silence, making it all the more nerve-wracking when, following a dreadful minute of absolutely nothing, Toman’s leader speaks.

“What.”

It’s the only word he says, voice low, emotionless, and instead of it being a question, it’s a demand, a challenge even, to dare you to reaffirm what couldn’t have possibly come out of your mouth.

You remind yourself to breathe, while mentally preparing yourself to get decked in the face, ‘cause it’s way too late to backpedal now. One of your feet is already in the grave; it wouldn’t hurt to speed things up and launch your entire body in there.

“Nothing. I just- I wanted to know how my, uh...my little piss boy is...doing?”

Well, you lived a good life.

Mikey stares at you, unblinking.

One second passes. Two.

Then-

“Are you into that?”

“I- Huh?”

“Baji said you’re into some weird stuff, but that’s pretty fucking dirty, (Y/n). Even dirtier than Ken-chin’s tastes.”

(”Don’t fucking drag me into this shit.”)

Seeing the horrified confusion on your face, Mikey’s head tilts ever so slightly to the side.

“You want me to take a leak on you, right?” he asks, and that’s when your soul says its farewell, leaving behind a red-faced corpse on the verge of combusting. Bringing a hand to his chin, he adds, “Or, did you want to piss on me?”

You thought getting beat up by Mikey would be bad?

No, no, no.

You’d gladly take that over this humiliation.

“Hey, Baji! What did the couple in your porn mag do? Did they take turns or what?”

And Baji, the piece of shit, can’t hold it in anymore and breaks out in the most obnoxious laughter, the kind that’s loud, unrestrained, and has him doubling over, gasping for air.

“Oh, fuck, this is gold!” He’s wheezing at this point, triggering a few of the others to start laughing as well, including Mitsuya, who, to his credit, at least tries to stifle his laughter. “Ask (Y/n) what he prefers! Ask!”

At the other boy’s persistence, Mikey raises an eyebrow at you, giving you his full attention as though genuinely curious to know what your pissing preferences are. It causes the flush coloring your face to turn 10 shades darker and 10 degrees hotter.

You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that your friends now think you have a piss kink, or the fact that Mikey is open to exploring said kink with you.

“So, what’ll it be?”

“I...” What do you even say in this situation?

“Do you want me to pee on you?” Mikey asks again in a much softer voice, hoping it’ll reassure you into giving him a direct answer. He doesn’t want to scare you, no. Knowing how nervous you get around him, he’s been doing his best to show only the good sides of himself to you.

That must be why he takes your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze to encourage you to speak up. What he doesn’t know, is that as opposed to being comforted by the kind action, it makes you feel mortified, especially at the insinuation of you wanting him to release his bodily fluids on you.

So mortified, actually, that the first thing that comes out of your mouth is an unintentionally shy, “Please, don’t pee on me...”

You realize your mistake the second those words are said.

Ahh! No! That’s not what you were supposed to say!

Why didn’t you say you don’t want anything to do with piss in general?!

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Your head is spinning, thoughts going haywire after misspeaking , but what really sends you over the edge is the, admittedly, cute little smile you catch on Mikey’s face. Now, not only is your head in disarray, so is your heart.

“Alright. Since it’s you, I’ll let you do it.”

Nope. That’s it for you. Time to clock out of consciousness.

Thump!

“Oh. He passed out.”

Abrupt as it is, your passing out is of no concern whatsoever to Mikey. Nah, he finds it endearing as hell and crouches down to admire your ‘sleeping’ face.

“He must’ve been super happy,” he fondly muses, completely ignoring Draken’s advice to make sure you’re still breathing in favor of stroking your head and pinching your cheeks. 

(”He might die, dumbass. I’m tellin’ ya.”

“He won’t. (Y/n)’s strong.”)

On the other side of the room, Baji has zero fuel left in him to bark out another laugh at Mikey and his gullibility when it comes to wooing the person he fancies, though he does have the energy to wipe away the tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Best $20 I’ve ever spent,” he blissfully remarks to Chifuyu.

“Baji-san, this isn’t how you play matchmaker.”

“Dude, this is exactly how you play matchmaker.”

To prove his point, the long-haired teen points back to where Mikey is sitting beside you on the ground, carrying out a normal conversation with Draken, like there isn’t an unconscious person right beside them.

“Ken-chin, where should I take (Y/n) for our first date?”

“Huh? Date? I thought he was just gonna piss on you?”

“That means he likes me, Ken-chin,” Mikey explains, sounding, for all it’s worth, similar to a parent teaching their child a new life lesson. “And if the person I like likes me enough to want to piss on me, then, obviously, I should take him on a date.”

It makes no fucking sense, but if Mikey wants to believe that your love language is spilling less than desirable bodily fluids on each other, then so be it.

Because for him, anything goes as long as it’s you.

Not only are you $20 richer, you also scored yourself a date with someone that would let you take a piss on them and vice versa.

Aren’t you a lucky guy?

[gnocchighoul]

Hmm.. kind of a random thing but that's how my brain works sometimes but hear me out! The Bros (plus undatables and Luke if you want) get turned into cats. What type of cat would they be, how would mc react, and how would they react to being a cat.

I had SO much fun writing this one. Thank you for this excellent prompt 💗

This is just the demon bros getting turned into cats, but I might make a part two with the undateables! :D

~

Lucifer

Oh he’s going to be so pissed off. 

Seriously, even as a cat, his murder-death-murder-death stare is beyond intense. He will sit himself high up on furniture to glare down on everyone like the prettiest gargoyle you’ve ever seen. 

Nobody is allowed to come near him. He will swat and hiss at anyone and everyone who approaches, unless they are approaching to turn him back into a demon. 

BUT if you had nothing to do with this curse that’s fallen upon him, then he’ll probably let you near, as long as you’re not like, weird about it. Seriously, don’t baby talk at him, he’s not actually a cat.

Cat-Lucifer will probably just want to constantly stand on your shoulders and wrap his tail around your neck, which isn’t super comfortable because he’s not exactly small and dainty. 

Also, every time you say something stupid he’s gonna bite your ear lol

Tbh he’s probably going to make you carry him everywhere like that and he’s gonna control where you go -- you know, kinda like ratatouille LMAO

Mammon

You know those cats that climb literally everything and anything?

Yeah.

When he first gets turned into a cat, he freaks the fuck out. But when he finally calms down and isn’t meowing up an angry storm, he’s gonna realize that this is a great opportunity. for evil.

He's gonna book it the second he realizes that he can literally be a cat-thief.

Nothing is safe from his grabby little gremlin paws.

He steals so much shit (wallets, Asmo’s jewelry, Levi’s limited edition collectors items--anything he can carry in his mouth or drag around) and then he stashes it all in your room, because unfortunately, becoming a cat didn’t make him any smarter.

Lucifer tasks you with just sitting in your room and keeping track of everything cat-Mams steals so that you can return everything to their rightful owners.

You quickly become used to cat-Mams sauntering in and out of your room every five minutes with his newfound riches.

So it’s a bit concerning when Mams darts out of your room after stashing a wallet in his hoard, and doesn’t come back after thirty minutes.

Naturally, you go looking for him.

You’ve only been searching for about twenty minutes, when pathetic meowing reaches your ears. You follow the sound, and--

You find him stuck in a cardboard box.

(before fishing him out, you take tons of pictures. He’s very upset.)

Levi

Levi is so distraught. He’s literally going to just wail and roll around on the floor until somebody picks him up. 

He’s literally the crying cat meme.

Once he’s in your arms, do not put him down. He’s very sad and his reflexes really aren’t good. You know how you can just kinda toss cats onto the floor and they’ll land on their feet just fine?

He will not. 

Is suuuuper jumpy and only trusts you (and maybe Beel, but he’s lowkey afraid that Beel is going to eat him.) 

You should probably get him one of those bubble back-packs that cats can sit in and carry him around in that. 

He has the worst time as a cat. He just wants to play his video games :(

(But if you give him lots of smooches, it’ll make his suffering a little bit easier to deal with. But like, he’s gonna turn into an overwhelmed ragdoll when u start giving him the smooches)

Satan

Honestly? He isn’t that opposed to being a cat for a little while.

But he’s also like. So hyperactive. Goes from 0-1000 in half a second.

He’s got the zoomies.

He’s gonna parkour his way around the house of lamentation, testing how fast he can zoom, how high and far he can jump (and how far he can fall without hurting himself)

He’s gonna do a backflip off lucifer at the speed of light and then sprint away as fast as he can to go wreck some shit

If you want to hold him, you’re going to have to catch him mid-air. If he doesn’t just squirm out of your arms and actually lets you pet him, he’s gonna stare you dead in the eyes, extend his claws, and then pat your leg with his lil toe beans.

You’re not entirely sure if that means ‘keep petting me’ or ‘stop it right now’ so you just kinda scratch his ears instead

Asmo

Even as a cat he’s beautiful and everybody has to see just how pretty he is. 

He’s constantly striking poses. 

Looking back over his shoulder. Stretching his leggies out so you can see how long and lean they are. Contorting his body in the WEIRDEST ways because he’s even more flexible now.

He does not run anywhere, he struts very daintily and model-like.

He’s gonna be so affectionate. Constantly rubbing his cheeks all over you, and leaning against you, but be careful while you give him pets because if you mess up his fur he’s gonna swat your hands away.

He’s also definitely going to be really annoying and constantly walk in front of your feet and trip you up. Where are you going, why aren’t you admiring him, dammit

You know how most cats hate water?

Not asmo. 

He’s gonna make you fill the bathtub up to his chin so he can float around on his tiptoes with just the upper half of his head out of the water like a crocodile. 

Then you have to blow-dry him until he’s all nice and fluffy and give him a good brush. 

He will absolutely tolerate you dressing him up and taking pictures as long as you make him look nice. He won’t allow you to put him in stupid costumes (he’s gonna bite you when you bust out a lobster costume) but a pearl necklace? Hell yeah.

Beel

Feed him dammit, he’s starving.

Cat-Beel is going to gnaw on EVERYTHING. Furniture. Books. Clothes. Your hands and ankles. 

It’s not anxiety -- honestly he really doesn’t mind being a cat -- he’s just so hungy.

Also he’s MASSIVE. 

You don’t actually know that he’s been turned into a cat until you go to the kitchen for a snack and find an orange & white cat the size of a literal child raiding the fridge. 

Which brings me to my next point -- he’s gonna be SUCH a snuggle bug. Like those really big dogs that insist on sitting in your lap and crushing you. If he isn’t eating then he just wants to flop on top of you and crush you with his love.

You can baby-talk at him if you want, as long as you give him treats and snuggle him. 

He purrs so. Much. 

Will also let u just roll him around and do whatever you want to him dkjncdsn he’s honestly the chillest out of them all

Belphie

God he’s so fucking upset at first, like claws out, hissing and spitting at everyone, full on tantruming upset, BUT THEN. but then. You pick him up and press a kiss to his sweet little triangle head and he bleps and it's all over.

Good luck getting anything done. Cat-Belphie is going to demand your full attention for snuggles CONSTANTLY. 

No, he doesn’t care that you’re trying to research ways to turn him back, he’s gonna plop his little butt on the tome you’re attempting to read until you give him love, dammit.

Honestly, Belphie being a cat isn’t that much different from normal. The biggest difference is that now he can squeeze into weirder places to nap, which makes it very difficult to keep track of him. 

After searching for two fucking hours, you, Satan, Levi, and Beel find him stretched out across the arms of one of the chandeliers in the dining room, like it’s some kind of weird hammock. 

He’s fast asleep. Nobody knows how he got up there. 

(To get down, he ends up yeeting himself into Beel’s arms.)

If Bells isn’t napping, then he’s hiding under furniture, waiting for his next victim to walk by so he can attack their ankles.

(also the most likely to bite u when he wants your attention)

((part 2 with the undateables))

[captainimprobable]

part two of that thing I posted last week! This is also an unedited first draft, so take it with a grain of salt

~ ~

She arrives in the dead of night, clothes singed and skin burned.

The knock wakes them all, but Hooty is the loudest.  He bursts through Luz’s window, a worm shaped interloper, and announces “HEY LUZ, YOUR GF IS HERE!!!!! SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE WAS DIPPED IN A POT OF ACID, BUT I’M SURE IT’S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT.”

Before Luz can even open her eyes fully to focus, he slides back out of her window with a loud “HOOT HOOT”.

Blinking sleep out of her eyes, Luz thinks she might be dreaming, until she hears the knock at the door.  It’s insistent, quick, and somehow a little desperate.

Something is wrong.

She is instantly awake and on her feet, flying down the hallway just in time to collide with Eda, whose hair is sticking up at all angles.  Before she can fall, Eda steadies her, and says “Did I hear Hooty say that Boots is in trouble?”

“I’m not sure,” Luz says frantically, “but we need to get to the door.  Now.”  She’s already running as she’s talking, and finally, finally, she makes it to the front of the house.  She wrenches open the door and standing there is Amity, eyes red rimmed and body shaking.  

Behind her is a sheet of boiling rain.

“Oh my gosh, did you run here in the rain???” Luz asks, grabbing Amity’s hand and tugging her inside.  Amity nods wordlessly, staring at a spot on the floor.  Now that she’s closer, Luz can see the damage; the rain has singed the sleeves of Amity’s dress, and dark, angry burns march up and down her arms.  “Dang, kid, are you okay?” Eda asks, sounding genuinely concerned.  

Something inside Luz tugs insistently, and though she wants to panic, she knows Amity needs her more right now.  So she takes a deep breath and says “Let’s get you patched up, okay?”

Amity doesn’t move.  She’s still staring at the floor with a blank expression, and Luz suddenly has no idea what to do.  She wants to wrap Amity in her arms, protect her from whatever’s going on, but she knows that might not be appreciated, so she decides to ask.  

“Do you want a hug?”

Amity nods so imperceptibly that Luz thinks she might have imagined it, but she nonetheless takes it as a yes.  Careful to loop her arms around Amity’s waist and not her neck so as to avoid touching the burns, she wraps Amity in a loose hug.  For a second, Amity does nothing.  She stands there shaking with her arms hanging at her sides, until all at once, like a dam exploding, she grabs at Luz almost desperately, pulling her tighter as she bursts into tears.   

Luz has never been in a situation like this before.  Eda is sitting on the couch a respectful distance away, watching but not getting involved.  Luz doesn’t know what to do, so she decides to follow her instincts.  She reaches up to stroke Amity’s hair and whispers “It’s okay, you’re okay”.  Amity cries herself out a few minutes later, Luz talking to her in a soothing voice the whole time.  When only sniffles remain, Luz asks “Can we go to the couch? Eda wants to treat your burns.”

“Y-yeah,” Amity hiccups.  It’s the first thing she’s said all night, and something in Luz loosens at the sound of it.  She keeps an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders as she guides her to the couch.  She doesn’t want to let go, so when they sit down, she instantly grabs Amity’s hand.  

“Is this okay?” she asks Amity.  Amity nods, gently brushing her thumb along Luz’s knuckles in silent consent.  

“Wow,” Eda whistles.  “The rain got you good.  Why were you out in that anyway, are you crazy?”

“Eda-” Luz starts, but Amity holds a hand up.  “It’s okay,” she says.  As Eda begins pulling potions out of the cabinet, Amity says “It’s- it’s my parents”.

Luz goes cold.  She remembers them well.  It’s hard to forget people who tried to kill you.  

She hasn’t had much contact with Alador, but Odalia...Odalia gives her a feeling she can’t describe.  Just the sight of her makes Luz unspeakably angry.  Looking at Amity now, though, she realizes that Alador is just as bad.  Complacency in the face of abuse is just as bad as the abuse itself.

“We had a fight,” Amity continues.  “And you ran away? In the boiling rain? That takes guts, kid,” Eda says, a mixture of impressed and concerned.  

“Not exactly.  They, um...they kicked me out.” 

“WHAT?”

“It’s not forever,” Amity hastens to say.  “Just for the night.  My mom said she...she said she can’t even look at me right now, and my Dad just agreed with her.  Like he always does.”

Luz’s grip on Amity’s hand is tight as steel now.  She’s ready to get up and give the Blights a piece of her mind.  She wants to take them down, and make them pay for what they’ve done.  

“So,” Luz says in a low voice.  “Your parents left you alone in the middle of the night in rain that can literally kill you?”

“Yeah,” Amity says bitterly.  “They’re not the best parents.”

“I’m going to make them pay for this. I’m- I’m going to go over there, and I’m going to-”

“Luz,” Amity puts a hand on Luz’s shoulder.  “No.  You can’t- I don’t want you in the same room as them ever again, okay?” Amity sounds scared.

Luz remembers the abomiton that tried to kill her, and the disappointed look on Odalia’s face when it didn’t succeed.  She also remembers Amity’s righteous anger, and the steely eyed glare she gave her mother.  

“I can’t have you hurt again,” Amity says, sounding almost frantic.  “I just can’t, okay?”

“Okay, okay, shh it’s okay,” Luz assures her, cupping a hand to her face.  Neither of them have the energy to be embarrassed about it right now, but it’s probably the most romantic gesture they’ve shared.  Amity leans into Luz’s hand, breathing deeply.

“This might sting,” Eda says from the other side of the couch.  Both Luz and Amity jump, having forgotten that she was there.  Sheepishly, they part, still holding hands.  Eda smirks at Luz and gives her a wink that Luz hopes Amity didn’t see.  She gets the feeling Eda is going to be talking to her about this later.

Eda dabs a bit of blue potion onto Amity’s arm, and Amity hisses, breath whistling through her teeth, but she doesn’t flinch.  “Is it- ow- is it okay that I came here?”  She asks Eda, looking at her shyly.  

Eda snorts, like it’s the stupidest question in the world.  “I practically take kids in for a living, now,” she says.  “What’s one more?”

“It’s just for the night,” Amity hastens to assure her.  “I’m going home tomorrow morning.”

Luz shakes her head.  “I hate the idea of you living with them.  I can’t believe they treat you like this and just get away with it!”

“I’ll get out of there eventually.  When I join a coven…” Amity trails off, and an awkward silence ensues.  They haven’t talked about the whole “Amity’s biggest dream being potentially crushed by the Emperor being evil” thing.  

“Well, the point is, it’s not forever,” Amity finally finishes.  

“Aaaand done,” Eda says, wrapping the last bandage around Amity’s wrist.  She stands up, knees creaking in an entirely unnatural way.  “And now it’s bedtime,” she yawns.  “You two get some rest, too.”

“Thank you, Eda,” Amity calls, and Eda gives her a lazy wave over her shoulder as she leaves.  

The adrenaline is wearing off, now, and Luz suddenly realizes she has no idea what she’s doing.  She glances at Amity out of the corner of her eye, and the image of her cupping Amity’s face floats into her brain.  She flushes a deep scarlet, and suddenly, she needs to be doing something, anything else.

“Well, okay,” she says loudly, standing up abruptly and walking towards the closet.  “Let me get you some pillows and a blanket, the couch is old and creaky, but it’s comfortable.”

As she’s rummaging through the closet, she hears Amity say “Luz”.

“Yeah?”

“Would you- I mean, if you wanted to, could you- could you stay with me for a little while?” She sounds so scared, and so sad, and it’s so unlike Amity that Luz melts immediately.

“Of course,” she says.  “Here, scoot over.”

Amity moves a few inches, wincing at the pain in her arms.  Luz sits down next to her and drapes a blanket over the both of them.  They sit there awkwardly for a few minutes, and Luz is absolutely freaking out.  She has no idea what to do now.  Before she can agonize over it any further, Amity’s head lands on Luz’s shoulder.

This is unprecedented.  

Nobody ever told Luz how scary the beginning of a relationship is.  Nobody warned her that every little thing Amity does could change her mood instantly, or that every time she touches her she can swear to god she feels electricity.

Nobody told her how bittersweet it could be to have Amity Blight resting her head on her shoulder, exhausted from a horrific night of what can only be called abuse.  

Her internal alarms are going off, she’s losing her mind, and she hopes Amity doesn’t notice.  In the midst of this emergency, Amity calls her name sleepily.

“Hey, Luz?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my favorite person.”

Oh.  Oh wow.  Oh. Wow.

This is a whole new level of scary.  She feels a mixture of nerves and elation swirl through her, and she can’t help but smile, and she feels a little bit like crying but she doesn’t know why.  She doesn’t know what to say, so instead, she does something even scarier: she kisses the top of Amity’s head.  

She freezes, hoping that was okay, hoping that Amity doesn’t feel weird about it, but before she can ask, Amity starts quietly snoring.

She’s fallen asleep.  Luz breathes a sigh of relief, marveling at the fact that Amity felt comfortable enough, after an awful night, to come to her house and fall asleep on her shoulder.  How did she ever get so lucky?

After awhile, Luz yawns and checks her watch.  Four forty two am.  It’s definitely time for bed, but she doesn’t want to wake Amity up by leaving, so she decides that she’s going to stay up all night, watching over her girlfriend and making sure she’s okay.

Two minutes later, she falls asleep, resting her head on Amity’s.  

When they wake up in the morning, it’s all apologies and blushing and everything Luz has started to get used to.  But Amity has a small smile on her face despite her blush, and Luz has to admit: it’s the best nap she’s ever had.  

[darkacademicfrom2021]

Break.

Request by @lucywrites02 (If you find some time could you write a fic about reader being really stressed about their exams and Loki saying something mean and then they break down and Loki has no idea what's happening but then tries to help the reader? It can be a headcanon or a one shot)

N/A: It do be like that sometimes. Unfortunately I think we can all relate to this state of mind. Hope this helps alliviate the tension a bit. Remember to take care of yourself; health is more important than grades.

Warnings: anxious thoughts, mentions of suicide attempt (the Bifrost thing from Loki), angst. Happy ending.

Word count: 2.3 K

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @jesuswasnotawhiteman)

You organized your folders once again, hoping the cleaner desk would give you some motivation to keep going. It didn’t, but you stayed. Your stomach growled and it hinted you to look at the clock. Oh, no. Five in the morning? But you barely started. You still had so many things to do before dawn.

You got up and stretched your legs and back. Your eyelids, heavier than ever, were not helping at all. Your mind was still everywhere, and you had to keep your head distracted to not think in the thousand things you still couldn’t get done. The mere thought of that made you shiver, almost throwing you into a spiral of anxious thoughts. You shook your head off and walked to the bathroom. Splashing some cold water in your face, you stood in front of the mirror. Eyebags that made you more similar to a racoon gave you the idea of making some more coffee. At that time you'd already forgotten you were going to get some food; your head was so full it couldn't even retain basic information.

As silently as you could, you walked down to the kitchen of the compound. You brought your books with yourself. Couldn’t waste some other five or ten minutes, couldn’t you? Filling the kettle and putting it on the fire, you got distracted watching the shapes of the fire.

“Zoned out?”, inquired Loki behind you. You jumped, frightened.

“What are you doing up so early?”, you asked.

“What are you doing up so late?”. You pointed at the books and he nodded. “You’re still with those things”.

“Want some coffee?”.

“No, thanks. I think I’m gonna try to sleep on the couch”.

He moved to the living room area and opened a book, laying down on the nearest couch. It all looked so cozy, so comfortable. You redirected your gaze to your cup of coffee and academic books, waiting for you to fry your head a little (a lot) more. Oh, how much you would’ve loved to take a break, sit in there with a fiction book and a warm mug of hot cocoa, wrapped up in… no. Don’t do this. Don’t torture yourself like that.

You probably shouldn’t have been drinking coffee. Your heart was already going abnormally fast, product and cause of the anxiety you were accumulating. But you did, trying to get your eyes opened. The table you settled in was confronting the living room area, and Loki observed you read and write incessantly in those big piles of books and papers.

You didn’t hear his footsteps. Out of nowhere he appeared behind you, reading the pages that were troubling you so much. You jumped once again. He was distracting you, you were tired and stressed, and, as if it weren’t enough, your heart was going to explode with all those frightens he was giving you.

“Are you going on the next…?”.

“Loki, I can’t give you attention right now”, you cut him off as kindly as you could. Your voice was slightly broken, so you swallowed and hid it. You two weren’t close enough to actually explain to him you were about to drown if you kept getting distracted from the assignments.

“I don’t need your attention”, he scoffed, slightly offended. “Not a puppy you have to play with”.

“Alright. Can you leave?”.

He sighed and went back to the couch. After about half an hour, your head fell to the pages and gave your brain the pause it so hardly needed. About an hour later, everyone on the compound was up and having breakfast around you, waking you up with the noises.

“Y/n, what are you doing sleeping in here?”, asked Thor. “What are all those things you have in there?”.

“Those things, brother, are books. They are for reading and gaining knowledge, I’m certain you haven’t heard of them before”, mocked Loki, gaining a chuckle from you. “It’s not like you seem to be gaining much either, though”, told you, referring to your nap.

“I was exhausted, but I’m...”.

“Mortals are such weakies”, he said, getting up and serving himself a cup of tea. “They read three pages and already get tired of using their little brains”.

You knew he was kidding, for he had told you many times before he considered you one of the brightest youngsters he had ever encountered. But you couldn’t look at the big picture right now. Your head was still overwhelmingly loud with fears, tiredness, stress. The only sight of that pile of books made you shiver, realizing how little time you had to study. And Loki was right. You felt yourself so stupid, so weak. No matter how hard you worked and overworked yourself, you couldn’t get the damn things done right.

A knot in your throat gave you the hint to leave. The last thing you needed was to cry in front of them. You went back to your room, not without another cup of coffee before. So, you grabbed your things as fast as you could and ran to the kitchen. You hadn’t noticed Loki had followed you, thinking it was alright to mock; play around. You weren’t exactly friends, but enjoyed each other’s teasing every once in a while. He thought it’d cheer you up, or make you laugh.

“Hey”, he said behind you, and you jumped once again, dropping your mug to the floor. It got smashed to pieces. “Oh, what a clumsy little human”. You chuckled at his comment, containing a sob. He read it as if it was alright to keep teasing you, so he did. “I’d say you’re dumb because of not sleeping, but you generally just are like this”.

You didn’t answer, but your heart ached. You weren’t in the mood for his tough-love, so you rolled your eyes, sighed, and tried to pick up the pieces of broken ceramic. He didn't look satisfied with your silence. You'd usually insult him back, and laugh together.

“Your hair’s gross. Have you showered at all?” he said once again, touching the tip of one strand of your hair. You haven’t, you didn’t have time. You didn’t answer, and instead blushed. “Careful, don’t touch that sink, you might get a reaction”.

“What?”.

“Since you’re allergic to water”.

“Out of all the mean things you can say you go for my poor hygiene?”.

“Would you like me to stop insulting your appearance and instead go for anything else? I have a long list”.

“Just… leave me alone”.

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna keep trying to understand what you so clearly can’t?”, he said while you were leaving with all your stuff, and you stood in place, facing the door. You were so, so glad you were backwards, because then he would’ve seen you tear up.

He was joking, he was just playing around. But going for that just in your worst moments? That was plain mean. You shook your head, he didn’t know, you’ve never said a thing about your stress, and he didn’t see how overworked and overwhelmed you were. He didn't know that was one of your biggest insecurities.

“I’d say you give up already. There are certain things dummies like you simply can’t achieve”, he continued. He had no idea, so he just kept going, hoping to get a reaction. A laugh, a chuckle or a “fuck you”. Even a punch. Any of the reactions he would usually get from you. But he didn’t expect what followed, at all.

You sobbed. One sob, just sharp and loud enough for him to have heard it. He stopped dead on his tracks. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t move either. He saw how you tilted your head, facing the floor, and dropped a tear. He immediately walked to you and grabbed both of your hands, facing you.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of those things, dear”, he softened his voice. “I was just joking around”.

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, it’s just that I’m very stressed”, was what you tried to say. Instead, your sobs turned into a full blown cry. Your face went red from embarrassment, and anger, and stress, and tiredness, and it all just became too much for you to bear alone. Loki sensed it and hugged you tightly, pressing your head against his chest and hushing you tenderly.

“What happened? Is someone ill?”, he whispered, and you felt even more stupid, because you were crying over grades and papers. Not real things, like you used to think to diminish your stress and pack up all your feelings in a tiny bottle. But the tiny bottle became too tiny for your big feelings, and it finally exploded. You still couldn’t talk. Tears running down your face, you were hugging Loki back, hiding your face on him.

“Nobody’s ill, don’t worry”, you managed to say after a while. He nodded.

“I worry about you. Come, let me get you comfortable”, he said in your ear, and lifted you up carefully. You chuckled in between sobs. An emotional roller coaster. He carried you to his bedroom (and ignored the weird looks and stares from everyone else, because, let’s be honest; that was an unusual sight), and made you sit in his bed, wrapping you up in a weighted blanket (oh, you loved those).

He left for less than a minute and came back with a steaming cup of tea, some chocolate, and a few CDs. He sat in the bed by your side and gave you the cup. You wiped some tears away, and with trembling hands left the tea carefully over the bedside table and went for another hug. He wrapped himself around you, as a second blanket, and caressed your hair and neck with his cold fingers until your sobs stopped and you finally calmed down.

After a while, he cupped your face and looked at you very closely. Too close, even. Gave you a comforting look, with a warmth on his eyes you have never seen on anyone before.

“Better?”, he whispered.

“A bit, yeah”.

“Want to talk it out? Movie marathon? Chocolate?”.

You smiled and blushed a bit, again.

“Sorry, I’m just… really stressed. I thought I could manage better, but… this is just not it”.

“School?”.

“You must think I’m an idiot”.

“No way”, he assured you, frowning. “You know what I think of you. You’re incredibly smart”.

“I’m not, I’m doing so poorly on my exams and assignments, and…” you tried to explain, and the overwhelming weight of everything fell on your chest again. Your eyes watered.

“You’re overworking yourself too much, darling. You need to take a day off, or two”.

“I have no time, I won’t get anything done”.

“Well, you certainly won’t get anything done in this breakdown state of mind”, he said as tenderly as he could. He was right, and you sighed. You started fidgeting nervously with your fingers, tearing your cuticles. Almost as a reflex act, he grabbed your hands and caressed them so you would stop hurting them. “You humans run around the entirety of your lives. You spend it all running, speeding, not taking time to feel enough, to be rested and fulfilled enough”, he started saying, rocking you back and forth “you think you don’t have enough time, but for what?”.

“To do all the things I want”.

“And those are…? Careers to do? Places to visit? They all come to the same thing, love”.

“Feeling well?”.

“Yes”, he nodded. Your throat tightened once again, but this time out of relief. You really needed to hear this. “If you feel well doing these things, you won’t feel you’re wasting time once you finally rest. I’ve lived a thousand years. Do you think I always wanted to spend my life doing the same things?”.

“Well, no”.

“But it all came to the same thing when I thought I died”.

“You... what?”.

“I was on the Bifrost, about to fall. I wanted to feel good, to feel accepted, to feel loved by the people I loved”.

“It’s all we want at the end. I guess I overwork myself to make them proud”.

“I did too. And at the end, even when I tried my hardest, I couldn’t make them proud”.

“Oh God”, you said. He was still hugging and caressing you, as if the story he was telling didn’t affect him anymore. “And you…”.

“I threw myself off it”, he stated. You stopped and looked at him.

“Oh”.

“But”, he brought back to your hands the cup of tea “I survived. Even then, I kept thinking through the fogged lenses of doing something big for a future purpose, not paying any mind to my actual motivations”.

“How do you feel now?”.

“You know, if I wouldn’t have survived, I wouldn’t taste this amazing cup of tea” he said, sipping a bit from the cup still in your hands and bringing it to his cheek, warming him up. “And I wouldn’t be able to watch all these movies with you. And I would’ve missed all the Midgardians books I’ve read on Earth. And I wouldn’t have met anyone on here. And maybe, even looking closer, I wouldn’t have pushed all your buttons to break down so you would still be bottling up your stress and maybe even have had a heart attack and died unhappy and unfulfilled”.

“Wow there”. You both laughed. You rested your head on his lap and he watched you with a glimpse of a smile.

“What I’m trying to say is, take it one step at a time. Look at the big picture. Enjoy the process. All those things you midgardians say so often, they have almost lost all meaning. They sound cliché. They shouldn’t; for they are very true”.

“Thank you, Loki”, you sighed and started braiding one strand of his hair.

“Now go take a bath or something, stinky”. You both laughed. It was all fine.

[sunjaesol]

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,��� JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[thisisawonderfulusername]

let's save the world

season two, episode eight

five hargreeves x reader

summary: you have one final idea to get back to twenty-nineteen: finding yourselves

warnings: cursing

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this took for fucking ever but i'm not even gonna apologize at this point because i'm ninety percent sure it will happen again. sorry in advanced. just be glad i did it, alright? anyways, please enjoy episode eight, i loved writing it, i don't know why i put it off for so long

“we were that close.” you whisper to yourself as you go up the stairs, “so close.”

the door to one of the rooms slams behind you as you quickly look through the cabinets, before finding a bottle of whiskey. the only thing you need right now.

you twist the cap off, tossing it to the side as you sit on the couch with a heavy sigh.

you can hear luther speaking as he presumably follows five up the steps, but you don’t focus too much on what he’s saying. something about making a new plan, which almost makes you laugh. no other plan would ever work, if this one didn’t. his family would never let that happen.

the door opens once again as five enters, slamming it shut and locking it before luther can come in behind him. “five!” the big man shouts outside of the door, knocking on it, “come to what?” a sigh follows shortly after, and you hear his steps recede, apparently giving up.

you look to five, holding the bottle out, “want some?”

when he takes it, you expect him to take a drink, not find the cap and twist it back on, “what are you doing?” he questions.

“what are you doing?” you shoot the question back, reaching for the bottle, “if you didn’t want any, you didn’t have to take it.”

he looks at you incredulously, holding it out of your reach, “we still have an apocalypse to stop! you can’t just be sitting in here drinking!”

at that, you let out a loud laugh, yet nothing about this is funny. “you’re kidding, right?” you raise an eyebrow, sinking into the cushions, “i’m done with that.”

setting the booze on the coffee table, his eyebrows furrow at you, “what do you mean? you can’t be done with it. we don’t have much time!”

“don’t you get it, five?” you lean forward as you look up at him, “we can’t stop this. no matter how hard we try, we’ll never be able to. there’s always something that gets in the way when we get seconds away from actually doing it. let’s face it, the world is against us, and this apocalypse is happening.” you sound defeated, and you hate hearing it. you never wanted to give up, to let the world get the best of you. it tried to before, and you persevered. but none of that matters anymore, because soon enough, you'll be nuked and your existence won't have mattered.

he’s shaking his head in disbelief, “no. no, it isn’t. you’re supposed to be the one helping me, y/n! we can still do it.”

“and what’s your plan this time? do you even have one?” you can feel the tears brimming your eyes, and you hate feeling this weak in front of him, but there was no stopping it now.

“i do.” he states, “but i need you to help me.”

sitting on the couch next to you, turned in your direction, he gently guides your eyes to his, his hand resting on your cheek. "i can't do this without you. i can't save the world if i don't have you to help me."

a tear escapes and you quickly wipe it away, sniffling as you gather yourself before you break down completely. "fine." you breathe.

-

you were currently in the kitchen, chugging down as much water as you could from a pitcher before passing it along to five. This plan was so, so stupid. he began to drink from it as well, and luther, who had been napping on the couch, entered.

“five, what…” he glances between the two of you, you putting baby powder anywhere on your body you deemed necessary, and to him, taking in a breath as he flipped the top closed on the pitcher. “are you guys okay?” he questions in confusion.

“we need to be hydrated.” he breathes out, and you hand him the baby powder once you were finished.

if it was possible, luther’s confusion grew, “what’s with the baby powder?”

“it’ll help with the itching.” you state, giving no further explanation.

“what itching? there’s itching? what the hell is going on here?” as five puts some of the powder in his pants, realization dawns on his face, “you do have a plan.”

grabbing his blazer, five sighs, “well, it’s a desperation move, but… since our brain-dead siblings are incapable of meeting a simple deadline, well- we have no choice.”

“no choice about what?” you follow him into the living room, flipping the watch you stole from the formerly sleeping man- since he no longer needed it- open.

“we have to find ourselves.”

luther is so stunned, trying to process it, that he doesn’t speak. “we just arrived in dallas fifteen minutes ago.” you state, closing the watch and sticking it back in your pocket.

“should i be worried about you guys?” luther finally asks, his eyebrows furrowing at the two of you.

“luther, if you recall,” five speaks as he begins to stretch, “we were sent to nineteen sixty-three on a job by the commission to make sure the president was assassinated.”

“oh!” luther starts to understand, “so, wait, your old self is out there.”

“precisely.”

“what, just walking around dallas?”

“walking around dallas with a briefcase that can get us home.” you tell him with a smile. now, if this plan didn’t work, you were truly screwed. of course, the older looking versions of yourselves won’t give up the briefcase so easily, but you know for a fact you can do it. and with that briefcase, there wouldn’t be a time limit. you could gather all of the siblings together and finally be rid of the apocalypse. maybe, just maybe, it will be the last that you have to deal with.

“oh, my god.” luther’s hands come together in front of him, “you are geniuses.”

“however, there are two significant problems with this plan.” five tells him, you nodding along, “problem number one: we are two trained assassins, arguably the most dangerous assassins in the space-time continuum. If we know ourselves, we’re not going to react kindly to bumping into us.”

you knew it sounded like you were giving yourselves a pat on the back, but he wouldn’t be saying it if it wasn’t true. and it definitely was.

“problem number two,” he paces, “this is the real fly in the ointment here: you’re not supposed to exist in close proximity to yourself in the same timeline. the side effects can be disastrous.”

luther seems as if he’s trying to process all of this, “side effects? what sort of side effects?”

“well, according to commission handbook chapter twenty-seven, subsection three-b, the seven stages in paradox psychosis are…”

“stage one: denial.” you begin counting off on your fingers,

“two: itching.” five looks to his brother,

“three: extreme thirst and urination,”

“four: excessive gas,”

“five: acute paranoia,”

“six: uncontrolled perspiration,”

“and seven:” you pause for a moment, dropping your hands, “homicidal rage.”

“homicidal rage?” luther questions, to which both of you confirm, “jeez, i don’t know. this maybe isn’t such a good idea.”

five begins to pace again, throwing his arms to the side, “it’s a hail mary. but what choice do we got, luther?”

leaning against the door frame, the large man shrugs, “i don’t know, you already seem a bit squirrely if i’m being honest.”

“listen luther, we’re gonna need you to help us get through this one, alright?” you stand in front of him, “we need… a spotter.”

“a spotter?”

“yeah,” you breathe out.

his eyebrows furrow, “what is that, like a wingman?”

“in case the paradox psychosis gets too severe,” five strides over, “we need you to help us stay on task, alright? so whatever happens, whatever we say, we need to get that briefcase. okay?”

“okay,” luther breathes.

“okay.” your shoulders relax.

both you and five turn and make your way to the steps, and you barely realize that luther is still at the doorway, staring in front of him. “luther, come on!”

“right.”

-

there’s an irish jig playing as you enter the bar, and chatter fills the air between the people inside, sitting at tables and at the stools along the bar countertop. you look around, skimming over all of the people, until you see them. or- you and five. it’s weird, seeing the older looking woman who sat next to the older looking five. you barely recognized them, since you had been looking at your thirteen year old selves for a while now.

“there we are.” five has spotted them as well. sitting at the bar, the briefcase on the raised wood that acted as a footrest between the two older versions of you.

“why don’t we just grab the briefcase and run?” luther asks.

“luther, we would never let that happen.” you tell him, looking up at him for a second, “we’re trained to guard those briefcases with our lives.”

“right.”

“plus, it’s the inherent paradox where this gets tricky.” five adds in. “we’re endangering our existence just being in the same room with ourselves.”

“huh? what do you mean?”

you roll your eyes, “luther, keep up. if our old selves don’t travel back to twenty-nineteen like we’re supposed to, the whole thing unravels itself. we cease to exist. got it?”

“i… got it.” he doesn’t seem to, but you decide not to try to explain further and confuse him even more.

“so our best chance is to talk with them, to reason with them.” five rolls his shoulders back, “they’ll understand. trust me. i know us better than… better than i know us.” the sentence is confusing, but the point gets across.

as five reaches up to scratch his neck, luther is quick to point it out, “that’s stage two of paradox psychosis.” he whispers urgently.

“no, i didn’t.” five states, “i didn’t itch my neck.”

“denial is stage one.” the large man points out.

“let’s stay on task, shall we?” you wave towards the two of you sitting at the bar, and as you’re about to step forward, luther reaches his hand out to stop you.

“wait!” you look at him in a mix of confusion and annoyance, “maybe i should go first.”

“why?” five asks him, also confused.

“well, you’ll freak them out.” he motions at the two of you, “bumping into your own tiny doppelganger? they’ll lose their shit.” he looks to the older versions of you, “just, let me break the ice.”

five glances around, sighing, “okay.”

“okay.” luther breathes out slowly, and you watch as he approaches the two older yous. you’re not sure if you can trust him one hundred percent.

as he begins to speak, the two of you very quickly get confused and on guard. meanwhile, you unconsciously grab hold of five’s hand to approach. “nope! don’t freak out. no freak-outs. alright.”

as the large man slowly steps to the side, you see yourself- your old self- tense up at the sight of younger looking you. “hey there, stranger.” your five speaks up, and the two older yous are almost shaking in their shoes from the shock and confusion.

you swear you see fear in your own eyes. it’s a look you remember seeing when you first landed back in twenty-nineteen and looked in the mirror at the you that had gotten stuck in the apocalypse. the you that was stuck alone for years until the commission brought you back to five. it was jarring to you as well, at first.

you remember staring into your own eyes. the little girl who had held five’s hand as he discovered the full extent of his powers, until it disappeared from her grasp and she was left in a smoldering, crumbling world.

-

the five of you had gotten a table, and you sat across from your older self, gaze unwavering. out of the corner of your eye, you could see the two fives glaring at each other.

“well, isn’t this nice?” luther breaks the silent tension, “the five of us, together like this.”

“no.” all four of you speak in unison, and luther is clearly uncomfortable, almost squirming in his seat.

the old five doesn’t look away from himself as he begins to speak, “somebody explain to me how it is i’m having a pint of guinness with my younger self.”

“older, actually.” the five sitting next to you states, “i’m you, just fourteen days older.”

“i have pubic hair smarter than you.” the other you says coldly, her fingers laced together on the table in front of her, “how’s that possible?”

“i can explain,” the younger seeming boy responds, “you see, one hour from now, on the grassy knoll, before the president is killed, you break your contract with the commission.” he leans forward slightly, “i already know you’re thinking about it. all those years in the apocalypse, we never stopped worrying about our family. well today, you’re going to do something about it.” he sits up straighter.

“today, you are going to attempt to time travel back to twenty-nineteen. however, you are going to screw up the jump, and end up in this twip of a body.” he points to himself with his two thumbs. “trapped forever, small, pubescent.”

“okay.” the older one finally breaks his stare, shaking in his seat, “even if i was to believe you, what am i supposed to do, not jump?”

“no, no.” you break away from the eyes of yourself, “we need you to jump. if you don’t jump, we cease to exist.” you motion between yourself and your five, “what we need is for you to jump correctly.”

“i’m listening.”

“the first time through, i got the calculation wrong. that’s how we ended up in these bodies.” five begins to explain, “but now, i know the correct calculation.”

the other is almost on the edge of his seat in anticipation, “what is it?”

“he’ll tell you.” you tell him, causing his gaze to turn to you instead, “in exchange for the briefcase you’re holding under the table.”

“yeah, yeah.” luther speaks up from where he’s sitting, “so now, you go back to twenty-nineteen, as planned, but this time with the right math, so you remain a full grown man. in exchange for that briefcase that you no longer need.” he points to the space between the older yous where it rests, a smile on his face.

“timeline restored, paradox resolved.” five speaks, “everyone goes on, existing happily ever after.”

the older you finally breaks her silence, “that’s quite a bit to take in.”

everyone’s heads turn towards her, “what do you think?” five asks, glancing between the two of them.

“i think,” older five says, “i need to piss.” he promptly states, standing from his seat and grabbing the briefcase, heading in the direction of the bathrooms. older you quickly looks between all of you, before also standing up and heading in that direction as well. you have a feeling that they’ll be discussing the situation at hand.

once they disappear down the hall where the bathrooms are, luther breaks the short silence that fell between the three of you. “well, besides the flop sweat, i think that went pretty well, right?” you had barely noticed, but there was, in fact, beads of sweat on your face, and you grabbed one of the napkins to wipe it away while luther patted one to five’s face.

“no, there’s something…” five fidgets in his seat, “something doesn’t feel right about this.”

luther is confused, which you’ve noticed happens a lot. “what… what do you mean?”

agreeing with five’s sentiment, you shake your head, “i don’t trust them.”

“but… they’re you.” he states in confusion.

“exactly.” the two of you speak in unison.

“well… i’m going to go to the bathroom too… maybe talk to him?” it’s more of a question as he stands up before quickly scurrying away.

“they’re planning something.” you state, leaning back in your seat as you scratch the back of your neck.

nodding, five takes a drink from his glass, “we have to be ready for whatever it is. we’re dangerous.”

“very.”

-

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs @andreasworlsboring101​ @lunylovelovegood

five taglist: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @colie-babi @flowertoty @avovada @badwolf00593

let’s save the world: @aspiringwriter1 @thetrashypanda423 @lilacs-lavender @wow-lookit-all-the-fandoms @ohmyitsfaith @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @onedollarduck @sleepygal124 @faith-quake @stripedchickens @youcandalekmyballs @pettyjayy @libidinexx @bts-chub @theoriginalkat @flowertoty @whenyouwantdeath @ot7purple @purblerain @megasimpleplan4ever @whenyouregrungeaff @dumdumsun @malfovs @hxney-lemcn @frnks-stuff @imwaytootires @avovada @badwolf00593 @dumdumsun @zero2461

[fbfh]

light up the dark [VI] - leo x reader

genre: mid adventure domestic fluff overture, romance, smutty lemony bit towards the end

word count: 3k

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: very much so, yes

warnings: magic manipulation powers, feelings are hard and weird and scary, some innuendos, the phrase hot gusher out of context, the word dirty talk, trying to "proposition [someone] in front of two for one cookie crisp", brief credit card theft, jason thinks ketchup is spicy and gets clowned on for it, one use of the word lube in reference to mechanical lubricant, shirtless leo remember that one piece of shirtless leo viria art?????? remember the caption?????, your facade is beginning to crack, deadpan joke about being dead in space, making out, whole lotta sexual tension, brief mention of a boner, teeny tiny bit of grinding, getting interrupted, c*lypso

summary: after an extensive shopping trip, you, Leo, and Jason settle into your airbnb and wait for the others to arrive. Jason takes a nap, and Leo helps you dye your hair. You return the favor by helping him make dinner which leads to two things; a well timed boner, and a poorly timed visitor.

listen to: power and control - marina, 100 bad days - ajr, all I ask - adele

a/n: let's play spot the zack and cody reference within the first paragraph

also surprise the series isn't dead!! a shock to all but mostly me!!

as with all smexy smutty nsfw content, all characters are aged up to 18+

Standing in front of a wall of hair dye taller than you are should have been exciting. It would have been, except for the fact that all the colors were various shades of honey mist auburn. You really don’t want to have to make a separate trip to a beauty store for hair dye. Your eyes land on a firetruck red box, and gratefully, you realize you won’t have to.

“Perfect,” you muse, throwing it into your cart, along with the other stuff on the list you’d divided between you. You grab a few other things from the beauty section while you’re there; some makeup, eyeliner, a glass nail file, and a tiny pair of oil slick cuticle scissors.

Nearby is a guy a little older than you in a varsity hoodie and sweatpants squinting at a two in one shampoo label.

Perfect, you think, beginning to approach. You work your magic - literally - and within a few minutes you have his credit card. It takes way less time than it used to. You also didn’t have to smile and flirt nearly as much as you used to. You’re relieved that you don’t have to fake enthusiasm around rich douchebags the way you used to, and a new inky drop of fear begins to stain the corners of your mind. You can’t even bear to admit it to yourself, but you’re kind of scared. Before you can begin to question if you know what love is and if you’re capable of experiencing it without the influence of your divine heritage, you shove it all away. Not the place, not the time. You speed up a little, passing an endcap of candy, and knock a box into your cart.

On the other side of the store, Jason checks off items from their half of the list as Leo tosses items in the cart, talking along the way. Of course, you came up in conversation rather quickly.

“She’s… a real piece of work.” Jason says, treading lightly.

“You said it, man,” Leo agrees, sliding a pack of coke onto the bottom of the cart. Jason thinks for a moment before continuing.

“She seems to,” he tries to figure out how to phrase their dynamic, “not hate you as much as everyone else.” Leo laughs at the accuracy of the statement. He can tell Jason has something else to say, so he’s quiet while putting paper plates and napkins into the cart.

“Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Just… don’t let her hurt you, okay?”

He stops for a second. He’s so lucky to have a friend like Jason, one that will genuinely look out for him, but sometimes people caring for him still catches him off guard. Really off guard. With no idea how to begin to verbalize that complicated mess, he takes a split second to collect himself.

“Thanks, man.”

His smile is sincere.

Don’t let her hurt you. Can he just do that? Not let someone hurt him? Especially someone like you. He’s only had a few long term crushes before, all just out of reach and only getting further away. Only one had amounted to something - not that he could call what he had with Calypso ‘something’. She certainly wouldn’t. He looks around, trying to shake off the sting. He starts to get that unsettled, itchy feeling when he focuses on stuff like that for too long.

‘At least I got some good stories out of it,’ he thinks, messing with the back of his hair and fixing his hoodie strings.

“Here.”

He turns around, coming face to face with you, holding out a box very close to him.

“Hot gusher.” You say softly. What? His cheeks heat up, pulse speeding up suddenly. He glances at Jason, who’s at the other end of the aisle asking an employee something. Are you implying something? Are you trying to proposition him in front of two for one cookie crisp? He’s unable to look away from your gaze, intense and striking. You couldn’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean. Your fingers brush and he’s struggling to find an elegant way to say ‘hey, maybe the grocery store isn’t an ideal place for dirty talk’.

“W- uh, sorry, what?” he says, laughing in an equally hushed tone, needing to make sure you meant what he thought you did. You glance down, then back up.

“They’re spicy gushers. I thought you’d like them.” the feeling is gone in a split second, the same time it took to arrive, and is replaced with relief. He looks down at the box, realizing he’d taken it from you at some point. He laughs at the ridiculousness of his previous panic.

“Thanks,” he says, a reflective smile on his face.

You realize how comforted you are to see him smile, really smile, when you catch yourself having to keep a neutral face. One of the first times your resting bitch face has been intentional. Before you can say you’re welcome, Jason comes back over. You hand him the card.

“Pin number’s 0401.”

They both stare at you, skimming the label of a granola bar, completely unperturbed.

“How…”

“Credit card theft.”

The logical part of Leo’s brain starts to speak up, telling him to raise his guard, that his stomach should be twisting. If you can just take someone’s credit card without a hint of remorse, who knows what the hell kind of damage you could do to him if he got closer to you? And he really wants to get closer to you.

“Oh,” you pull a small pop top tube out of your cart and hand it to Leo, “this is for you too. You know, since you don’t like coffee,” you trail off as he reads the label. Caffeine and electrolyte drink tablets, red berry rampage flavor. He looks up at you, feeling warm and… something else, something ineffable, at the gesture.

You stare at each other, eyes locked, surprised at the strangely intimate feeling stirring in both of you.

“What are those?” Jason asks, snapping you out of whatever that was.

“Spicy gushers,” Leo says, smiling again, “I didn’t even know they made those.”

“Hot mango,” Jason reads from the side of the box, “that actually sounds pretty good.”

“No way dude, you can’t handle spicy food.” He starts to protest, and Leo continues, “You think ketchup is spicy!” He looks shocked.

“Okay, that was one time! It was a weird brand and there was way too much pepper in it!”

You bite back a giggle at their bickering, taking note of how much better Leo seems to be doing and finding surprising comfort in their banter.

It doesn’t take long to get to the airbnb and get set up. You all dump your bags in your rooms, bring in the groceries, and shove everything into the cabinets in a reasonably organized manner.

Jason heads upstairs to unpack and call Piper, announcing a few minutes later that they should be here in less than two hours.

“Perfect,” you pull out your hair dye from the last bag. It’s not exactly the manic panic wildfire red you’d initially wanted, but it’s definitely better than nothing. You stare at the box for a second, then up at Leo who’s trying to get one more bag of chips to fit in with the others.

“Hey,” you say, just loud enough to get his attention, “do you… can you get the back of my head?” He looks at you, questioning, and you hold up the box dye. He smiles, once again noting your softened edges around him.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and minutes later you’re in the bathroom, adorned in a big tee shirt covered in all your previous hair colors. He’s staring at your shirt, eyes dancing over the swirls and splatters of color. It reminds him of a painting he’d seen once, unable to remember the name.

You shake the bottle, skimming the instructions again, then start speaking to him, eyes still on the box.

“Take a section of hair, about this much,” you demonstrate, holding out a section of hair, “rub in the dye like this…”

You hand him the second bottle of red dye, and he starts on the back. His fingertips start separating out a section of your hair, and you still, a shiver running up your spine. He hesitates for a moment, then continues, and you hope he hadn’t noticed. His breath fans your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating off his chest. Your lungs are shallow suddenly, squeezed tight like a bouquet clutched in a shaking hand. You find it almost impossible to focus on dying the front half of your hair.

You don’t want it to stop, you realize. His fingertips dancing along your hair, the glimpses of his incredibly focused face in the bathroom mirror, the way he’ll gently turn your head to make sure he didn’t miss a spot.

“Shit,” he leans back, hunching forward. You look behind you, eyes landing immediately on the spot of red dye on his shirt.

“Shit,” you echo. He looks back at you, waiting to see how he’ll react.

“Oh, it’s all good - no worries. I already have a ton of motor oil and lube - lubricant… machine grade, petroleum based engine lubricant-” he laughs, “stains on this shirt anyway. Don’t sweat it.”

You almost laugh. A giggle bubbles up from your chest and stomach, but catches in your throat. Before it can come out, he slips off his dye stained gloves, and tugs off his dye stained shirt from the back. It seems to happen in slow motion. In a mere moment, your eyes engraving every detail, every line and curve and freckle to memory.

There’s really no delicate way to put it; he’s fucking jacked. Deceptively so. You’re frozen in place, cheeks flushed. You suddenly wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in his arms, held so close to him.

You snap yourself out of the thought, all of that occurring in just a few seconds. He leans past you, setting the dye stained shirt carefully on the counter, glancing at you intensely.

“Are you checking me out?”

You make yourself roll your eyes and turn away, replying, “I’m sure you’d love that.”

Angled away from him, you momentarily reprimand yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and mouthing oh my god. You turn back to him, not recalling the last time you had to deliberately keep up your aloof front around someone like this.

“So, are we finishing my hair or just gonna leave it like this?” you ask rhetorically, motioning to your half done hair.

He watches you do this, confirming his suspicion that you’re really not as cold as you let on. A smile blooms on his face, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as… cute as that.

“Yeah,” he replies, slipping his gloves back on. The things you do around him seem to mean more now. He notices the way your eyes flutter closed for a moment when he plays with your hair, working in the dye, or the way you still for a split second when he gets a little too close to the side of your face, checking that he didn’t miss a spot.

He doesn’t want this to end either. But eventually, your hair is fully saturated with dye, the timer on your phone counting down slowly. There’s still some dye left. He sits on the closed toilet.

“Your turn. Do me.”

“What?” you laugh.

“Yeah, a little streak - up here.” He leans forward, sectioning off a part of his hair.

“Seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to match…” he muses. Your eyes get this dreamy look for the briefest second, then you’re turning back to shake the bottle some more.

“I guess… I mean there’s too much dye to throw out, we might as well do something with it.”

It’s his turn, now, to feel the warmth from your body, your hands running through his hair. His eyes want to close, and bask in the feeling, but he refuses to miss out on the view of you so soft, so close to him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough for either of you, and much too soon you’re pulling away and throwing away the gloves and empty bottles.

By the time you finish cleaning up and throw out the garbage, it’s time to rinse your hair. Hanging your head over the tub, you let the water flow over your head until Leo tells you it’s running clear. He does the same, and you point out too late that he only had to rinse the dyed part, not his whole head.

You both laugh as you wrap a towel around your hair, teaching him how to do the same.

“Sweet, I’ve always wondered how to do the spa snail towel thing.”

“The spa snail towel thing?” You try in vain to fight another laugh.

“Yeah, you know… cause it looks like a snail, and they do it at spas…”

“Oh… my gods…” you laugh, exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall, “I”m going to get changed.” you call.

“Am I wrong?” he asks after you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He heads to his room to do the same.

A few minutes later, you’re carefully pulling on your top, when he calls through your door.

“Hey, I’m gonna be in the kitchen, come down when you’re ready.”

“...Okay,” you agree.

You check your outfit in the mirror. You can still feel his fingers brushing your neck. Your head tilts at the memory. Snapshots of him pulling off his shirt in slow motion flash in your memory.

You realize how much of an affect the last hour has had on you. Your stomach drops.

You can’t possibly be falling in love. No way. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

You’re not the falling in love type. At most, you’d hook up with someone a couple times on the rare occasion you thought they were hot, too.

Oh, you decide, that must be what’s happening. I just think he’s hot. I mean, duh. Of course he’s hot. Did you see him in there?

That’s all you have to do; hook up with him once, maybe twice, then you’ll get over it. It’ll make his ex jealous, and they’ll get back together. It will go just like it always has. Then you can move on to whatever the next crisis is.

You take a breath, resolving to follow the plan, exit your room. You throw yours and Leo’s old clothes and towels in the hamper, and head down stairs. He greets you, and pulls you into the kitchen.

“I have something to ask you.” Your brow furrows.

“...Okay.”

He takes your hand in his, the other behind his back.

“Will you…” he looks at you, gaze piercing, “...be my sous-chef.” he finishes, holding out an apron, matching his.

You study him, a hopeful, surprisingly confident look on his face. His hair is still damp. You’re sure yours is, too. You wait a beat, before replying slowly.

“Yes. But I’m not wearing that.”

“That’s fair,” he says, setting the apron on the counter, “I will have to dock your pay for being out of uniform, though.” You let out a puff of air from your nose, biting back a laugh. He pulls out a skillet, bowl, and oil, and begins preheating the pan. You watch him pull out more ingredients, and begin to set things up.

“Right now we’re waiting on that,” he says nodding at the stove. You nod, inspecting a bottle of seasoning he’d pulled out, and settle into a comfortable silence.

He thinks back to the last time you had time like this - playing twenty questions at your apartment. A pit forms in his stomach as he remembers the conversation veering to Calypso, as it always seemed to. He shoves it away. Not this time. He steadies his nerves. “So, you want to play twenty questions?”

You agree, coming closer to him.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Your eyes flick over to the clock. You have a solid hour, hour and a half before the others are supposed to get here. You stare at him, brushing hair out of his face.

“I’d be dead in the endless void of deep space.”

He cracks a smile at how on brand that response was. Your fingertips trail down to his neck, rethen shoulder. The smile doesn’t leave his face, not completely. Your heart beats loudly in anticipation.

“My turn. Do you want to make out?”

His head snaps up, eyes locked with yours, trying to tell if you’re serious or if this is another example of your distinct sense of humor. But he can tell it’s not - there’s something a little too close to the surface in your eyes.

“Yeah. Yes, totally-”

You grab his collar, pulling him in for a kiss, and leaning back against the empty counter.

His lips are soft and warm, moving gracefully with yours. You barely register that the first kiss ends before you dive back in. You angle your head, deepening the kiss. He plants one hand on the counter, the other making its way to the small of your back. You flick your tongue past his lips, and his grip on your waist tightens. You clutch his collar tighter, other hand moving through his hair, still damp at the ends.

You can tell he’s enjoying what you do by the way his mouth quirks up ever so slightly at the corners, and by the way he starts to harden beneath you. You roll your hips into his, and he falters, sighing, breath fanning your lips. Not quite a moan, but you’re getting there.

The front door opens before you can.

Leo pulls away reluctantly, very reluctantly, and turns off the stove.

“That was fast,” he says, panting slightly and still very flushed. They’re not supposed to be here for a while, still.

A tall girl enters the kitchen, dark strawberry blonde hair pulled over her shoulder. She looks between you and Leo with a sour expression on her face.

“Calypso,” Leo says.

"...Hi."

[mister-supernova]

Missed Connection

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader 

It’s almost been a month since your encounter with the stranger you believed to be from your dreams. Without any luck of seeing her again, you were beginning to think that maybe that’s all she was; just some mere figment of your imagination that you so desperately wanted to have all the answers you needed. 

As insufferably difficult this summer was for you, you still managed to get through it. You thought it was because school wasn’t in session and that you’d be back in your element in no time once classes begin again. 

That was what you had hoped for anyways, but alas even when the halls were filled with your peers and your routine was back in place, nothing seemed to change. The mysterious void in your chest didn’t ease like you wished it would.

You couldn’t help but wonder if your friends had been feeling the same way, too. Surely there’s no chance that you could be alone in this situation, right? 

“You can’t tell me that things haven’t felt a little weird since Landon destroyed Malivore. He doesn’t even know how it happened, Lizzie.” 

The blonde Saltzman nearly whips you in the face with her hair as she abruptly turns to face you in the crowded hallway. “Y/n, we live in a world where witches, werewolves, and vampires exist. Everything in our lives is bound to have a tiny amount of weirdness.”

She made a good point and you knew that, but you also knew that this feeling was different. It had to be. 

Lizzie frowns at the disappointed look on your face and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Look, the most important thing is that Malivore is gone. No more bizarre monsters coming to kill us every week. Now try to stop overthinking things and let’s get through this school year in peace.”  

Before you knew it, your conversation ended just as quickly as it started and Lizzie was on her way back to class. You hang your head with a defeated sigh, desperately searching the hallway for someone who may be just as lost as you were. Instead, you see everyone going about their first day back like normal. 

Students who were away with their families are now smiling brightly as they reunite with friends. Other groups of friends laugh at a joke another says as they pass you by and you wonder if there was someone you should be doing that with.

The clarity that you sought out today only made you more confused than ever. At this point you wished that it was still summer vacation because seeing your classmates having a great first day back had you thinking that you really were alone with your feelings.  

Maybe you just needed a day to hang out with your friends after class today. They may not share your thoughts on how odd things have felt recently, but being around them definitely helps clear your head. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. You know Landon and I would be down to watch a movie or something, but we’re going on our official first date today.” Josie tells you, disheartened. 

After the multitude of movie dates the two of them shared throughout the summer, you’re surprised that none of those had been labeled as dates, but you weren’t going to tell her that outloud. The two of them seem to be really happy to be spending so much time together and you weren’t going to get in the middle and be the third wheel no one wants, especially on a first date. 

“No worries, Jo. I’ll ask Lizzie and MG if they’re free.” She gives you a gentle squeeze on your arm with a sympathetic smile before you go off to find her sister. 

Things didn’t seem to be going to plan here either.

“If I hadn’t already agreed to this stupid- I mean,” she grits her teeth with a forced smile, “very cool study date with MG I’d totally hang out with you. God knows I’d rather do anything else.” You knew you weren’t supposed to hear that last part, but Lizzie was always awful at lowering her voice. 

If you weren’t already feeling distraught, this definitely was the cherry on top of your depressing cake of sadness. 

Instead of showing Lizzie that, you plastered the fakest smile you could and responded with, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just… hang out downtown and get myself a milkshake at the Grill or something.” 

Plan “get your friends to distract you from the abrasive thoughts penetrating your brain” had failed, but you weren’t going to let it stop you from at least getting out of the school for a couple of hours. With everyone so busy while classes are back in session, it made you wonder what in the world you did after school before this year. 

As much as you tried hyping up how fun it was going to be hanging out downtown by yourself, it only made you feel even more bummed out. Like everything else you’ve been doing since the night Malivore was destroyed, something felt off and nothing seemed to be your remedy.

Minutes turned to hours and you ended up drinking four full glasses of cookies and cream milkshakes at the Grill, literally falling into a sugar coma at your table outside. The sun was barely setting when you got here, but then it was fully dark out when you were woken up from your sugar rush nap. 

“Jesus, Y/n. I thought you were dead or something.” You lean your head upwards to see that it was Landon who woke you from your slumber. 

“One could not be so lucky, phoenix boy.” You groggily respond, stretching out your muscles and wiping any drool from your cheeks.

Looking at your surroundings, you notice that Josie isn’t around. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” 

There’s a pained look on Landon’s face at your question, “Yeah, about that… she, uh, she said she wasn’t feeling too good and decided to go back to the school.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “What, did you take her to eat sushi or something?” 

That was meant to be a joke, but the look of realization on the curly-haired boy’s face told you all you needed to know. 

“You went to a sushi place.” 

Landon quickly slides into the seat across from yours, “It’s what I suggested. W-Was I not supposed to?”  

“Jo can’t digest any sort of raw food without wanting to convulse. I learned that the hard way when I first started going to the Salvatore school,” you shiver at the memory, “Never again.” 

The phoenix begins falling into a full state of panic, “Oh my God. I didn’t know that! Wh-What am I supposed to do? What if I completely ruined everything? What if she never wants to go on another date with me again? What if-” 

Your patience was thinning very quickly, “Landon, just relax. Take a breather for a second,” you inhale, watching him do the same, and breathe out at the same time, “Go back to the school, check up on her, have a convo about getting some better communication skills and I’m sure everything will be fine.” 

Landon nods, “Okay, okay yeah. That’s good. I’ll, uh, I’ll do that,” he continues to sit across from you until you look at him expectantly, “Do I do that now?”

“For your sake, Josie’s, and especially mine, yes. Now would be great, buddy.” 

“Right, okay. Thanks, Y/n!” He scrambles out of his seat and begins to shuffle away from the Grill. 

“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You shout with as much enthusiasm you could muster before slumping back into your chair. 

Still dazed from the sugar rush nap and exhausted from that conversation, you lean forward with your elbows on the table and begin wiping the sleep from your eyes using the palms of your hands.

“This is gonna be one hell of a year.”  

“Long day, huh?” You recognize that it’s a girl’s voice you’re hearing, but not one that was familiar to you. 

Moving your hands away from blocking your view, you look up to see the person you convinced yourself was just a figment of your imagination. The long auburn colored hair, fair-skinned, blue eyed girl from your dreams was standing right before you. For a moment, you thought that maybe you really had lost it. 

“Sorry. I just, I saw you sitting here earlier and thought you might want company.”

You’re almost positive that you were staring at her with your mouth hanging open like an absolute idiot. Just say something, dumbass!

“Mind if I join you?” She asks, gesturing towards the now empty chair that Landon left behind. 

“Yes!” 

Idiot! 

“I mean no! No, I uh, I don’t mind.” You chuckle nervously, adjusting yourself in every way possible to hide the fact that you were internally freaking out.

The girl gives you a patient smile before taking the seat in front of you, “So, party of one tonight, huh? I mean, I saw you finish talking to someone right now, but it didn’t seem you two were here together.” 

“Yeah, no. Not together at all or with anyone really,” for some reason you had to make this very clear to her, “That was just a friend of mine who’s having some lady troubles, so I decided to be a good samaritan and give him some positive advice.”

“How chivalrous of you.” Right away you could tell that she was teasing and the nerves you had seconds ago simply began to vanish. 

“Why thank you,” you smile, feeling a wave of warmth when she returns one back, “But yeah, it’s just been me, myself, and I for the night… and day… and probably for the rest of the school year if I’m honest.”

Her smile fades and she tilts her head inquisitively, “What makes you say that?” 

Oh, where to begin. 

“I’ve been asking myself that for a while now actually. Everything should feel perfect given the fact that I have these amazing friends, I go to this incredible school, I’m 100% healthy and not dying of anything that I know of,” you shrug at yourself, “I should be happy with that, but I’m not. It feels so selfish of me to say and I wish I could fix it, but I can’t. How can everything be so close to perfect, but yet there’s still something wrong?” 

The girl stares at you with such empathy and sadness in her eyes that you could swear she was holding something back. 

You continue, “Things also haven’t felt normal lately. My definition of normal anyways. For some reason everything has felt completely off, like I’m missing something. You know when you forget that there’s somewhere you’re supposed to be? Like an event and you don’t realize you’ve forgotten about it until the day of and you say to yourself, ‘oh shit, I can’t believe I forgot about this really important thing’. That’s how I’ve felt ever since summer started,” you notice her tense up slightly, but you continue, “but I can’t remember what I’m forgetting.”

At this point, you were surprised this girl didn’t think you were crazy and start running for the hills. If this were any normal stranger, you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to overshare the thoughts you’ve been keeping secret from your close friends. For some reason, she made you feel the complete opposite. Strangely enough--given the world you live in--you felt safe with her.

“Everyone at school is making me feel like I’m the only person who feels this way. Everyone else can go back to normal. Everyone else can move on and go on dates and study dates and hang out with their friends and go to class without feeling lost and overall just be… normal.” You finally let go of the breath you had been holding in for what feels like months.

Then you start to laugh at the ridiculousness that just spewed out of your mouth, “Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry. You probably thought you were going to have an innocent ‘nice weather we’re having’ type of conversation, but instead you got a stranger dumping their whole life crisis onto you.” 

“You really don’t have to apologize. Trust me, I understand how insanely messed up life can get and how relieving it is to just vent it all out,” she gives you a reassuring nod with a genuine look of understanding that you’ve been wanting to see for months, “Even if it’s to someone who can potentially be a serial killer.” 

The both of you burst out into a fit of laughs and you swear that you’ve never felt so connected to a person you just met. It was as if your souls had met in another life and were catching up for the first time in a while. Neither of you had a name to place with your faces, but that didn’t seem matter because you already felt like you’ve known this girl for years. 

“I’ve had quite a rough couple of months myself. Not sure if I’d binge drink four cookies and cream milkshakes to numb the pain though.” 

You shrug, “Well, it’s better than the latter option that I can’t even legally purchase because I’m underage. Plus, it helps that these are the best milkshakes in town--even if they are 4 dollars a glass.” 

Now you’re hoping that your old co-worker can cover your bill since you only brought ten dollars with you tonight. Before you could reach for your wallet just to be sure, another thought crossed your mind. 

“Wait. How did you know they were cookies and cream? I know it’s a lot of milk to force inside by body, but I normally leave no trace of evidence behind. Are you a witch or something?” That last part was obviously a joke otherwise she’d be at your school by now.

The girl opens her mouth to speak, but it takes her a moment to come up with an explanation, “It was my best friend’s favorite. Yeah, we used to go out for milkshakes all the time and I guess something about you reminds me of them.” 

You smile, flattered, “Well, might I say, your best friend has amazing taste,” she purses her lips into a tightened smile and lowers her gaze, almost as is the memories of this said ‘best friend’ pained her to think about, “I’m assuming things aren’t so great with them right now?”

She sighs at the thought, “We were close for a long time. I’m actually surprised that they stayed as long as they did. I probably gave them a million reasons to bail, but they were annoyingly persistent,” she chuckles, “I’ll admit, it took me a while to settle into our friendship, but the moment I did was something I would never regret. From that point on the only thing that could separate us was death.” 

Judging by her heavy use of past tense words, you could only think the worst happened, “Did they, you know, um…?” You didn’t want to ask the full question seeing that she was clearly still hurt by the absence of this person. 

She shakes her head, “No. No, it turned out death wasn’t the only factor that was able to keep us apart. We meant a lot to each other and later realized that there was more to us than just friendship. Eventually, things started becoming serious but me being the person I am, I pushed them away and left.”

“Have you tried reaching out to them again?” You thought that there was no way two people who felt those intense feelings could completely forget about each other.

“Once, but things changed. They took one look at me and acted as if I never existed.” Maybe it was the empath in you, but it broke your heart seeing a small pool of tears building up in her eyes. You wished that you could say something to make her feel better and tell her that everything will be okay, but how could you when you don’t know her?

She quickly wipes the tears before they could fall and takes in a deep breath that you instinctively mirrored to compose yourselves. 

“I guess it’s my turn to say sorry, huh? I feel like my baggage was a little heavier than yours there,” she sniffs, huffing out a light chuckle. 

“Well, if we’re giving out medals here, you’ve got the gold. That’s for sure,” you grin, hoping to lighten up the mood.

Her laugh--that you could tell was genuine--gave you the assurance you needed. 

“I feel like I should give you a hug. I mean, if you’re cool with that,” you suggest, ready to push yourself out of your seat, “Because I could kind of use one and I’m just assuming--” 

“That would be great, yeah,” the girl nods with a relieved smile. 

“Alright, great.”

The two of you stand, moving around the table to meet each other in the middle. Her head seemed to fit perfectly against your chest as her arms pressed behind your back. All of the weight that had been piling up on your shoulders began to fall at your feet and the tension from stress that built up inside your chest began fading away. How this could happen from an interaction with a complete stranger, you had absolutely no idea. 

“Is it weird if I say this doesn’t feel weird?” You ask with the side of your head leaned against hers. 

“Well, I think things are only weird when someone makes it weird.” 

You pause for a moment, “Do you think this feels weird?”

She laughs and you know for a fact that she could hear your heart skip a beat, “No. I don’t.”

You fight the goofy grin from appearing on your face, but fail miserably, “Okay, good.” 

Part of you was afraid of what’ll happen the moment you separate. You had no idea when would be the next time you see this girl or if there was going to be a next time. This was the first day in a while when you didn’t feel lost, instead you felt that this was exactly where you needed to be. You felt normal.

Before you could actually start making things weird, you begin to pull away from her embrace, “Well, tonight I learned that I can click with a stranger within a span of ten minutes give or take, so thank you for that.”

She smiles, “Thank you, too.”

“I think it’s safe to say that we’re at the point of learning each other’s names now.” 

“Yes, because why start with those when we could just tell our whole life stories and share an intimate hug first?”

“Exactly! Actually, you know what? I think we should get married in Vegas really quick and we’ll just figure out our names during the vows section of the wedding ceremony. Whatever we come up with in the moment will just be how we refer to each other for the rest of our lives,” you joke. 

“You’re absolutely right.” Wow, a girl who can keep up with your sarcasm without thinking you’re a complete--huge emphasis on complete--idiot? She is the girl of your dreams--literally and metaphorically. 

You stared down at her in wonder, hoping to God that you’re not dreaming and that this interaction has been real, “It’s, uh, it’s Y/n by the way. My name. Y/n L/n.” 

“Hope. Hope Marshall,” she reveals and a victorious smile appears on your lips when you finally have a name to match a face. 

Your smile quickly drops when the clock tower starts going off and you realize that it’s nearly midnight, “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you tonight, Hope. I'm sorry to cut the rest of the evening short, but my school just got a new headmaster and unfortunately he’s a lot more strict on our curfew than our previous one. Don’t want to turn into a pumpkin, you know?” 

She chuckles, “No worries at all. It was nice meeting you, too, Y/n,” Hope smiles and you can tell that she didn’t want to leave. If you were being honest, you really didn’t want to either. 

Neither of you could find the energy to be the first person to walk away. To do that would be like trying to separate two annoyingly strong and stubborn magnets apart.

As much as you wanted to spend the whole night learning more about each other, you also didn’t want to be put in detention on the first day back at school. 

Unwillingly, you take the first step backwards without wanting to fully turn away from your newfound acquaintance, “Thanks again for the chat. I hope to see you again very soon, Marshall.”  

Hope rolls her eyes, but can’t contain a smile, “Only if you’re lucky.”

“I think I like my chances,” you wink playfully before turning your heel to make your way back to the school feeling the most energized you’ve felt in a long time.

~

apologies for the later update than usual with this series and I apologize in advance if it takes a while for part 6 to be posted. I’m in a bit of a writing funk right now and my mind is currently locked onto the Wilds soooo there may or may not be imagines for that fandom coming from me soon. anyways, happy late 2021 and here’s to hoping this year isn’t complete shit! much love y’all

taglist: @chicken-wang09​ @trikruismybitch​ @sodangtired​

[imagines-she-writes]

Plot: You & Eddie have been together for a a few years now and your brother Mox teases him for not putting a ring on it.....

Warnings: fluff , swearing...

'Soo...when are you gunna put a ring on my sisters finger then?...cus I ain't gettin' any younger '

Eddie blushed hard as Renee slapped her husband upside of the head 'ow!'

'Jon! Honestly Eddie ignore him....hes just must be on his man period and the filter between his mouth and his brain is outta action'

'You mean he had one to begin with?'

Y/N came bustling through the patio doors with plates of food ready to bbq.

'And for your information dear brother...just how long did it take for you to marry Renee? Hmm..?'

'Smart ass' jon grumbled.

Eddie and Renee chuckled. Eddie set the food onto the grill and handed you a beer.

You had met Eddie through Jon and had thought he was funny & sweet. You two had hit it off right from the start but Eddie was too nervous to ask you out. It wasnt untill Renee suggested that her Jon you & Eddie went for a double date that you two went for a date just the two of you. Eddie pulled out all the stops that day taking you to walk shelter dogs & play arcades. Simple but you loved it. Every month since Eddie had taken you out on a date night as promised.

Jon was happy that you had found someone decent who respected you and treated you like an absolute queen.

'Now wheres my beautiful Nora?' You asked plonking down next to Eddie.

'She's napping right now. Teething is a dick'

'Aww poor thing' cooed Eddie.

After eating and drinking and catching up you all said your goodbyes making plans to do something all together again soon.

In the car Eddie was quieter than usual.

'Babe...what's wrong?' You pried gently, hand on his leg.

Eddie sighed deeply. 'Ya know i love you right?'

Your brow furrowed 'of course i do...and i love you too....is this about what Jon said earlier?'

'I guess....but he's right though. I shoulda wifed you up years ago...'

'Maybe but we are happy arent we? We love each other so who cares we arent married?'

You silently cursed your brother although you knew he was coming from a good place.

When you pulled into the drive Eddie turned to face you.

' I love you Y/N....and I promise that when the time is right...I will put a ring on your finger and wifey you up'

'Ohh Eddie....please dont take my idiot brothers words to heart.. it will happen we want it to happen..ok?' You reassured him.

'C'mon I want to spoon you all night my little cuddly bear'. To you there was something safe and reassuring about being in Eddie's arms. His hugs were legendary. They made you feel safe secure and loved.

A few weeks passed and you noticed Eddie was acting strange. Secret phone calls and disapperaring for hours on end. You would be lying if it didnt worry you.

'You ok Y/N? You seem kinda distracted'

'Yeah...no....I don't know Renee. '

'Spill c'mon. You look like you haven't slept in days...' you sighed.

'I think Eddie is cheating on me.'

Renee's face dropped 'okay.. not what i was expecting.... what makes you say that? ...or think that? '

You shrugged. It sounded stupid but you couldnt stop this gut feeling that something was up.

'Ever since Jon made a comment about us not getting married he's been acting super weird ya know? Like constantly reassuring me he loves me, but acting super shady like secret phone calls and being gone at weird times that I know arent work related...' you couldnt help the stray tears that fell.

'Damn it!' You mumbled wiping your tears. You hated crying let alone crying infront of others.

'Ohh sweetie. I doubt hes cheating in you. And Jon's an ass for sticking his nose in. But trust me....Eddie's not cheating hunny....he'd be dead if he was...' you both chuckled at that comment.

Renee grinned to herself ... 'lets go shopping get our nails done our hair the lot ... we deserve it after that I quit match'

You shuddered internally remembering the bloody match.

Hitting the shops with Renee you relaxed and got a manicure and your hair done. You both stopped for a coffee.

Your phone buzzed.

* mad king 👑* I love you baby.... meet me at the cliff top bar at 7.30pm. Wear your new dress too.

How did Eddie know you had brought a new dress? Renee!

'Renee!...'

Mean while...

'Bro this has to be perfect ok? Like nothing can wrong...oh god i feel sick...what if she refuses and i look a fool!?'

'You mean more than you do already?'

'Real funny Mox... '

'Relax dude of course shes gunna say yes...'

To say Eddie was nervous would be an understatement. He was panicking. What if you didnt show? Or you said no?.

He had put so much effort into making tonight special he had neglected you admittedly so that wasn't helping his nerves.

'Dude Renee said that their now getting ready..go shower and all that'

'Good idea'

'Y/N... wowee you hot tamale...look at auntie Y/N Nora '

You smiled. You looked great and felt amazing.

' I dont know why im going...'

'Because you love him...and something tells me you will regret it if you dont'

'Okay....what's going on. You and Jon have been acting shady all day...'

'My lips are sealed'

'Of course they are' You mumbled to yourself. Right on time you pulled up to the cliff top bar. You locked the car and looked around for Eddie.

'Y/N'

You spun on your heel to see Eddie standing there all dressed up in a suit. A boquet of flowers in hand..

'Eddie...whats going on?'

Eddie came over to you in a few strides.' Im glad you came...'

'Well you can thank Renee for that'

'You look amazing. Although you always do...shall we walk?'

'Sure' Eddie held your hand as you both walked along the cliff top. 'Follow me'

'Where are we going?' You asked.

'You'll see' he grinned.

After a few minutes you came to an empty spot. There was fairy lights strung up and a picnic blanket laid on the ground with various food and a wine. Very romantic. Soft music was playing gently in the background.

'What's this?'

'This my Queen is for you...'

'Ohh Eddie its beautiful ' you gasped.

You both sat down & he poured you a drink each.

'Im sorry I've been abit of a dick'

' I thought you didnt want me and was having an affair '

'What?! No! No way baby I'd never do that. Ever. I love you.'

'I love you too' you smiled.

'Wanna dance?'

'Sure' Eddie helped you up to your feet pulling you closer to him. You swayed together enjoying every moment. You noticed how sweaty Eddie was his heart was racing, palms sweating.

'Babe are you ok? Your sweating buckets'

'Ohh ha ha yeah im fine could you get me a drink baby please'

'Sure'. You left your spot in Eddies arms starting to get worried about your love.

How ever when you turned around...

'Y/N you mean the world to me. I would be lost without you by my side. You're my biggest supporter. I wanna be with you for the rest of my life. You make me the happiest luckiest dude alive...will you marry me?'

You gasped....this was not expected. your hand flew to your mouth.'Yes! Oh my god yes!'

Eddie couldn't stop the grin that spread on his face as he slipped the ring on your finger..

''I love you Eddie"

'I love you too darlin'" you embraced your new fiancee.

'About damn time too!'

'You was in on this?' You exclaimed.

'Yeah...Eddie was soo nervous...it was sickening...what if Y/N doesnt come? What if Y/N says no...drove me nuts.'

You couldnt help but chuckle.

You all celebrated your engagement with champagne on the cliff top with Jon and Renee.

' it's true babe. I was sick with nerves. I thought you wouldnt turn up so i roped Renee in to help '

'Im glad you did...hubby'

'Heres to us' you toasted planning a wedding in your head already.

Okayy so that was it! I'm new too all of this so please bear with me whilst I get into my swing! Much love!

[asthmark]

❝ cute ❞ n.yt

synopsis → he stays quiet and you kick yourself for being so confident. you didn’t know if yuta was the playful flirting type but then again, you didn’t know much about him at all.

word count → 3.2k

a/n → on today’s episode of ‘it’s 2 a.m. and i’m writing a fic nobody asked for while the limitless album plays on a loop’ :)))))

you tapped your mechanical pencil against your desk, focusing on the rhythm you were making with it rather than the assignment your teacher had handed out. you directed your attention to ms. lee only to find that she was staring off into space, clutching her ‘world’s best teacher’ mug tightly, as usual. which worked for you. of course, her irresponsible behavior made you worry for the state of the educational system but realistically, you had no intentions of actually working and the longer she spent in her head, the longer you could avoid it. you hated to admit it but the time you spent in her fourth period class was usually wasted.

you shifted your gaze to the red haired boy sitting in front of you. nakamoto yuta. you never talked to yuta. sure, you wanted to hold a real conversation with him at least once because of all the rumors surrounding him and his mysterious nature but your interactions were always limited to asking for pencils and answers—which reminded you.

you tap his shoulder. he jolts and you figure he was taking one of his infamous in-class naps. he slowly turns to face you with his brown eyes that were the same color as the lukewarm coffee sitting in ms. lee’s mug. his eyelids are slightly droopy, only confirming the fact that he had been snoozing.

“is class over?" he asks, his voice slightly raspy.

“in a couple minutes, yeah. but here’s your pencil back,” you say, and you notice he smiles slightly when he takes it from you.

that was new. you figure that you could take advantage of him being in a good mood and keep the conversation alive. “i’m surprised you didn't snap at me for tapping it the entire class.”

his smile widens, shocking you even further. “are you kidding? i’m sure your pencil tapping is music to the ears in comparison to all my snoring.”

“oh, c’mon, it’s cute,” you respond.

he stays quiet and you kick yourself for being so confident. you didn’t know if yuta was the playful flirting type but then again, you didn’t know much about him at all.

the bell rings and you can’t seem to pack your things up fast enough. you can feel the boy’s gaze on you but you avoid making any eye contact. as you swing your backpack over your shoulder and speed walk to the door you realize that maybe you should’ve stuck to keeping your interactions with yuta limited.

when you drop your lunch tray on the table as you take a seat, joy and jinsoul put a pause on their conversation about the obvious affair between mr. son and mrs. jeon to greet you.

“hey girl,” jinsoul says, offering you a smile.

joy waves. “how was your fourth period? it’s history right?”

you nod. “it was pretty uneventful. until the end.”

your friends lean forward. “oh really?” asks joy.

“do you need to vent or something?” jinsoul adds.

you can’t fight back your smile. “what a polite way to ask for gossip. you two are getting better at it, you know.”

they laugh. “well, we try.” your best friends were known for knowing. they were sure to have the scoop in everything that went on around campus and they were quite proud of it.

“well,” you continue. “you guys know yuta right?”

jinsoul squeals at hearing his name. she apologizes once she takes notice of you and joy’s unamused stares. “my bad, i get excited whenever i hear a boy’s name.”

“wait, did you talk to him or something? like full conversation?” joy interjects, trying to get the details (as per usual).

“i’m sure we could’ve talked longer if i hadn’t flirted with him,” you mumble but jinsoul and joy hear you loud and clear. they immediately begin talking over each other. from what you catch jinsoul is proud of you for “making moves” while joy can’t seem to wrap her head around the fact that you actually spoke to the mysterious nakamoto yuta.

“guys, please. keep it down,” you plead. “i blew it, anyway.”

they become silent to ask, “how?” in perfect unison.

“well i said his snoring was cute and he just... didn’t respond after that,” you admit, cringing at the memory.

“you complimented his snoring?” joy asks.

“i was just trying to break the ice,” you sigh, burying your head in your hands waiting to be scolded by your friends for your lack of conversational skills.

“that’s not even that bad!” joy exclaims.

jinsoul nods. “i agree. it’s a little weird but... it’s unique! you probably stand out to him now. and that’s good.”

“but he didn’t even say anything after,” you whine.

“well how would you respond to someone telling you your snoring is cute?” joy interrupts, raising a brow.

it takes a moment for you to respond. “thank them, guess?”

“you gotta remember this is yuta we’re talking about. he isn’t the most expressive person ever,” jinsoul says.

joy agrees. “ever since that sicheng guy left to go back to china he’s kind of closed himself off. they were really close.”

you sigh. “he’s seemed so sad after that. i think he just needs a new friend. i want to be that for him. i mean, i would want someone to do the same for me if you guys suddenly left.”

jinsoul smiles at you, emphatically. “don’t worry, y/n. i have total confidence in you.”

“maybe if i hadn’t been so awkward i would too,” you say, dejectedly.

“well, judging by the way he keeps looking over here i’d say you're fine," joy comments, nonchalantly.

you freeze and stare at her dead in her eyes. “are you being serious right now? he’s looking over here?”

joy simply nods, poking at her salad.

you turn to jinsoul for confirmation. “jin? is she lying?”

jinsoul’s subtly eyes dart from you towards the back of the cafeteria and you see how they light up. “oh my gosh, no. she’s so right. wow, he’s really not hiding it at all.”

“so, your comment about his snoring really worked, huh?” joy teases. “i’m gonna have to start using that. ‘hey johnny, i love the way you snore. it’s so nasally and cute.’ how was that, y/n?”

you play along, chuckling and giving her a thumbs up.

later that day, all the talk of yuta has been forgotten and the three of you move on to focus on studying for the upcoming chemistry test. you find yourselves in your bedroom, taking diligent notes and reading report after report.

“i’m going to jump out the window,” joy announces, dropping her highlighter to massage her temples.

“is that your way of saying you want to stop studying?” you ask, your eyes never leaving your annotated text.

joy nods then dramatically collapses on your bed.

“a little break wouldn't hurt,” jinsoul agrees.

“you guys down for pizza?” you suggest.

“ooh yeah, that actually sounds so good right now,” joy comments from her spot on your bed.

“we had pizza last week!” jinsoul complains as she closes her notebook.

“it’s brain food, jin,” you say, giving her a serious look as you dial the pizza place’s number.

she rolls her eyes. “sure. just get me a slice of pepperoni.”

“i want cheese!” joy exclaims.

“got it,” you say, placing your phone on your ear. after two rings and a half they finally pick up.

“hello, may i take your order?”

“can i get a large pizza? one half pepperoni and the other half cheese.”

for some reason, the pair sitting on your bed has begun to giggle and you shoot them a glare, signaling for them to pipe down. but they don’t seem to care and their laughter only intensifies as jinsoul scribbles something onto a piece of paper.

“drinks?” the worker on the other line says.

“a, uh, two liter coke, please.”

“will that be all?”

suddenly, joy has begun waving frantically, stealing your attention away from the employee on the phone. she shakes her head vigorously and jinsoul mouths ‘no’ over and over.

assuming that’s what they want you say, you answer, “um... no?”

your friends smile, clearly happy with your response. then, jinsoul flips the notepad and reveals to you what has been written.

send your cutest delivery guy :)

you freeze, realizing that’s your next line. reluctantly, you say it. “actually, could you please... send your cutest delivery guy?”

jinsoul shoots you a big thumbs up and joy nods indicating she was satisfied.

the person over the line chuckles. “i’ll see what we can do. anything else?”

“nope, that’ll be all.”

once you’ve told her your address, all that’s left to do is wait. none of you bother trying to continue your study session because you’re too busy making up scenarios, the excitement of this ‘cute delivery guy’ getting to the three of you.

“so, if he’s insanely good looking... then what?” jinsoul asks, eyes filled with hope.

“then we get his number,” joy says, giving her a ‘duh’ look.

the blonde stares at her, incredulously. “there’s three of us, joy.”

“sharing is caring,” responds joy as you suggest, “ask him if he has any friends.”

you and joy laugh at your overlapped answers and how different they are.

“and what if he’s insanely old?” jinsoul continues.

you crack up at the question. joy shoves her shoulder, playfully.

“it could happen!” jinsoul defends. “have you guys never watched catfish?”

“i promise you, it’s not that serious,” you say, laughing. “he’s just delivering our pizza.”

“yeah and besides, you guys are totally not asking the important questions,” says joy. “what if he’s ugly?”

the three of you sit in silence, trying to contain your laughter before you speak up.

“well... then at least we got the pizza.”

when the doorbell rings, you all dash down your stairs so fast anyone else would think there was a fire in your room. you crowd against the door but jinsoul stands on the tips of her toes to see through the peephole.

her voice comes out breathless. “oh my god.”

“what is it?” you ask as you try to shove her out of the way.

being the tallest out of the three of you, joy is able to easily peek through the glass at the top of the door. you can only watch her jaw drop.

“no way!” she exclaims.

you whine. “guys, if you’re not gonna move at least tell me what the big deal is!”

your friends share a look that morphs into sly smiles and your confusion only grows. your doorbell rings again, the person standing behind it obviously growing impatient. joy swings the door open without hesitation and you suddenly understand their strange behavior.

there stands nakamoto yuta in all his glory.

he sports a red polo button up with the logo of the pizza place over his chest and a pair of khakis. the cap he wears is also apart of his uniform but he’s placed it on backwards, tufts of his ginger hair peeking out from underneath. he has failed to notice you since his eyes are so focused on reading the receipt in his right hand.  

“i’ve got a large pizza, half pepperoni and half cheese and a two liter coke. here in the notes it says you asked for the ‘cutest delivery guy’ but i was the only one on duty so... i hope you’re not too dissappoin—wait, y/n?” he has finally looked up and his shock cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

you smile, awkwardly. “hi yuta.”

he raises a brow. “you ordered this?”

you nod. “um, yeah. i didn’t know you worked at a pizza place.”

he shrugs, sheepishly. “i know it’s nothing glamorous but it’s something. i’m just trying to save up as much money as i can right now.”

“well, good for you,” you say, genuinely.

he stares up at you, his lips curving up into a small smile and you mirror the expression.

“okay.” joy drags out the word, dramatically. “jinsoul and i are gonna head out now. catch you guys later!”

“i think we can stay and have one slice of—ow! what’d you pinch me like that for?”

“we’re leaving,” joy says, through gritted teeth.

joy excuses herself and jinsoul unwillingly follows before they walk out your front door, not even bothering to grab their stuff from upstairs.

you clear your throat, resenting how painfully bad your friends were at acting. “so, uh, how much?”

“it’s on the house.”

you fold your arms, teasingly. “that seems too good to be true.”

yuta smiles and you realize it has not once left his face. “maybe it is.”

you lean against your doorframe. “what’s the catch?”

“i get to eat this pizza with you,” he responds.

his boldness stuns you into silence. nakamoto yuta wanted to spend time with you?

“you can definitely say no,” he adds, sensing your shock. “and i’m extremely sorry if i overstepped.”

you can’t seem to shake your head fast enough. “no, no, no! i would really like that.”

you swear you see a relieved smile appear on his face. “oh, good. i mean, your friends just left and i would hate for you to eat alone, you know?”

you can hardly contain your happiness at the fact that yuta was just as bad an actor as joy and jinsoul. “well, that’s an offer i just can’t refuse.” you step aside so he can enter your house.

“nice place,” he comments, looking around.

“thanks. um, you can just set that over there if you want.” you point towards your kitchen.

yuta obeys, placing the food on your dinner table. he takes a seat and you quickly grab plates and cups for the two of you. not even a minute later you’re both stuffing your faces with food.

“how can you work around stuff this good and not be craving it every second?” you ask him, wiping your face with a napkin.

“seeing how much grease they dump into this helps kill the craving,” he says, honestly. “besides, i don’t really like pizza that much.”

you opt to ignore the first part and motion to the half eaten slice on his plate. “looks like you like it.”  

he shakes his head. “trust me, the only thing i like here isn’t the pizza.”

you want to take his comment as a compliment but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. besides, you were starting to get used to his bluntness. “you know, we haven’t talked much but i can just tell you’re an open book.”

he smirks, not agreeing nor disagreeing. “well, most people don’t know a thing about me. i’m just the strange japanese guy. how do you see me?”

you tilt your head, staring at him deeply. “i see you as someone who knows his likes and dislikes. doesn’t seem like you’re one to hold back.”

“i could the same about you. not just anyone points out someone else’s snoring, much less calls it cute. that takes guts.” the smirk on his face grows at seeing you bury your head in your hands.

“oh god, i don’t know what i was thinking. if you could just erase that from your brain it would be greatly appreciated. i’d rather not seem like a dork to you.”

“well, i liked it. no one says that type of stuff to me especially since i’m kind of...” he trails off, brushing his bangs out of his face. “i’m kind of reserved.”

you nod. “i’ve noticed. to be honest, i’ve always wanted to get to know you for that exact reason. i’m glad you’re letting me.”

he looks up at you. “seriously?”

“yeah. everyone thinks you’re this big ‘mystery’,” you make air quotes, “but i’ve always just thought you were interesting. from what i’ve gathered, you’re a really good guy. everyone should give you a chance.”

it takes him a moment to respond. “wow, you think that? that’s... very nice.” he takes a sip of his coke but you sense he’s not finished speaking so you wait. “you know, it’s been a while since someone has given me a chance.”

you frown. “well it’s their loss.”

he chuckles. “you remind me of sicheng.”

you freeze. you knew this was a sensitive topic.

“i mean you’re both so different but... similar?” he shakes his head. “i dunno. maybe it’s how transparent you are. and you’ve got really big hearts too. it only shows with certain people but for some reason, you both show it with me. because you both see me for who i am.” 

“sicheng sounds wonderful,” you say but you secretly relish in the way he sings your praises.

“he is. i miss him. you know i think about moving to china a lot. or even back to japan. just anywhere away from here.”

you try your best to hide your disappointment. “what for? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“i don’t really know. i just want to feel a sense of belonging. i don’t have that here. that’s why i picked up this job, to save up for an escape in case it all gets to be too much for me.” he sighs. “it’s stupid to run from my problems, i know.”

“i don’t think it’s stupid. i mean, firstly you’re a foreigner coming to an entirely new country and school. then you meet someone and form a bond only for him to leave. you close yourself off a little but who can blame you? it’s tough. you’ve been through a lot.”

he smiles, proudly. “this is exactly what i mean. that’s something sicheng would have said. it would have probably been in chinese and way more aggressive but essentially the same thing.”

“really?” you run a hand through your hair. “wow, he must be insanely wise then.”

yuta laughs at your self praise. “did i forget to mention that you’re both extremely humble?”

you pensively tap your chin. “hm, might’ve left that one out.”

he nods. “must have.”

you fiddle with your fingers. “okay, this may be super random and i may be completely out of line but i, uh, hope you stay.” he only offers you a half smile so you continue. “i mean, it’s totally your decision but i feel like i’m finally getting to know you after so long and i really enjoy your company. i could introduce you to a couple of my friends and i could add you into our group chat. and we could sit together at lunch! we could even like partner up for projects and stuff and—“

“i would love that,” he interrupts. his voice comes out so soft it’s almost a whisper. it’s like he’s been waiting for this exact moment for his entire life, like you just took the words out of his mouth. “oh god, i’ve been wanting this.”

“really?” your voice comes out way louder than intended. “sorry, i’m excited.”

“and i’m the cute one,” he says, referencing your comment from earlier once again.

“when will you let that go—wait, what do you mean by that?”

he stands, grabbing both your plates and cups and making his way towards the sink. “catch up! you’re cute! actually, i think you beat sicheng in that aspect.”

you put a hand over your heart. “you don’t know how much of an honor that is.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “i can’t believe i have such a huge soft spot for such a huge dork.”

“wait, am i the dork?!”

“oh my god, you have got to catch up!”

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers and Side Characters Go on a Road Trip!

So, Diavolo, Lord of the Devildom, wants to go on a road trip for reasons unknown. You know what? Screw it, the reason is because Dia wants to do a fun human thing because MC brought it up during tea time. No one can defy the king, so TIME FOR A ROAD TRIP!

Shut Up! HE DOESN’T NEED DIRECTIONS! (Lucifer)

He was going to turn that car around. That’s it, he was going to leave. Someone else drive.

I hope your MC likes staticky traffic updates because that’s what Lucifer constantly had on the radio.

Obviously, some of the brothers complained, so Lucifer put on Beethoven’s Symphony no. 9. HELL YEAH TURN IT UP DJ!

Lol JK no one can car-dance to classical music. Just go back to the staticky traffic updates…

Lucifer would have preferred it if MC or Barbatos were riding shotgun next to him, but Diavolo ended up getting it. Dia is constantly asking Lucifer to stop so he can take pictures of the most mundane shit.

Lucifer stopped stopping after the first fifteen requests.

“I’m not stopping at McDonalds- hang on. Hi McDonald’s employee, one black coffee please.”

In true father fashion, Lucifer got lost and REFUSED to ask for directions. They were lost for five hours before Diavolo finally asked:

“Lucifer, you can turn on the GPS right?”

“Yes, but I don’t trust it.”

Everyone screamed in frustration and were all fully prepared to abandon Lucifer at the side of the road.

Please… can someone else drive? Anyone else…

Are We There Yeeeet..? (Mammon)

Okay, so, Mammon was one of two ways on that road trip. One: complete ADHD daydream zoned out. Or type Two: AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRREEEEE WEEEEEEEE THEEEEEEEEERRRRRREEEE YEEEEEEET???!

He wanted to stop and go to all the tourist traps, by the end of the road trip Mammon wanted to open his own.

The Avatar of Greed loves driving, problem is, he’s used to driving off into the sunset as a lone bachelor, not with his friends and brothers in the car as well.

He only got to drive once, and it was awful. 0/10 would not recommend. Luke thought MC was driving and called shotgun…

Mammon just turns on the radio for music and hopes something good is on at least ONE channel.

STOP WEAVING BETWEEN LANES YOU MORON-

Not all of Mammon’s time driving was bad, the combined powers of Luke and Mammon meant that everyone stopped at a petting zoo at the side of the road. Everyone had a good time, even though when they got back into the car they all smelled like a farm.

Did anyone else hear that oinking in the car-

*Vibes to Music in the Backseat* (Levi)

After being cruelly dragged from his room and placed in this stupid van… he just climbed into the backseat and put on his headphones.

Maybe anime openings could drown out this problem…

Levi only drove for fifteen minutes, it was the most terrifying fifteen minutes of everyone’s lives.

Mario Kart is not a substitute for proper driving school!

Listen- Levi actually saved the entire trip, after stopping at a gas station everyone noticed that Levi never complained about what was on the radio because he was wearing headphones, so everyone bought their own pair and the car trip was so much more pleasant…

No matter how many times Lucifer told Levi to get his feet off the seat, he wouldn’t listen, he was GAMING and they took him away from his gaming chair! HE NEEDED TO SCRUNCH HIMSELF UP LIKE A GOBLIN TO FOCUS DAMMIT!

Whenever the car would stop so everyone could get out and take a picture or look at something, Levi had to be practically dragged out of the car and manually posed for the pictures.

“Is this one of those vans with TVs in them? I brought the first five volumes of TSL on DVD!”

While Satan was driving they stopped at a lake, and Levi burst out of the car and made friends with all the lake fish.

He was still soaking wet when they had to leave.

I’m a Responsible Driver- IS THAT AN OLD BOOKSTORE?! (Satan)

Satan, we believed in you…

Our favourite nerd wanted to stop at any and all historical spots or cool looking bookstores he saw.

When everyone went to buy headphones, he got a pair with cat-ears on them! Because obviously!

Satan’s a responsible driver, and he’s not as prone to road rage as one might think. He has patience, remember in the Jobs event when he worked in customer service? Those kinds of jobs take a godlike amount of self control to do.

Asmo called shotgun and Satan got to have the wonderful experience of having his ear chatted off by his dear brother.

Satan was not about to have fast food for the eighth time in four days, if everyone wanted food, he’d stop at a restaurant.

He was terribly sorry to anyone who needed to use the restroom, but they should have gone at the last rest stop.

When Satan stopped at the lake, he gave everyone a long lecture on the historical significance of the place, then noticed that Levi was being crowned king of the lake and decided he should cut his history lesson short before Levi abandoned his family to chill with the fish forever.

I wanted Satan to be the normal chill one with the radio… I really did… but deep in my subconscious I feel like Satan would put on one of those language learning DVDs so he can learn another language on the go like a total dork.

Road Rage (Asmodeus)

No one saw this coming but- Asmo gets some B A D road rage. Someone cuts him off? “Hi hello dear, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SHOVE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS?!” Someone doesn’t use a turn signal? “YOU BRAIN DEAD MORON! LEARN TO DRIVE!” Someone just pisses him off? “*prolonged horn sound*”

It’s just… the car trip was so taxing on the poor Avatar of Lust… he was crammed into the middle seat for the majority of the trip… he had to give his sleeping mask to Belphie… Beel was getting crumbs all over him and he couldn’t move over… just so tragic…

Solomon called shotgun and it was the greatest couple of hours of his life. He got a front row seat to Lucifer and Barbatos dragging Asmo back into the car because he tried to pick a fight with another driver.

Asmo wasn’t having a good time…

He didn’t want to stop for any gas station food or go through a drive-thru so it was another expensive restaurant trip. Rest In Peace to the gang’s wallets.

When he wasn’t driving, Asmo was loudly talking with MC or talking on the phone. It was a blessing in disguise when they went through an area with bad phone reception and Asmo finally had to shut up.

Oh well… at least he got a few nice pictures for Devilgram.

MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! (Beel)

We all know Beel is massive, right? His head is touching the ceiling and every speed-bump hurt.

He’s the one begging to stop at every gas station or fast food place they pass by.

Beel’s section in the car was covered in empty bags of Doritos by the end of the trip.

When Beel got to drive, Belphie got shotgun! Hell yeah dream team!

Poor Beel, he got distracted and ended up somehow popping a tire. He pulled over next to a farm, changed the tire, then got back in the car and kept driving.

Uh… there was an awful lack of snoring next to Beel- OH FUCK THEY LEFT BELPHIE!

Belphie was found sleeping next to the cows on the farm they had stopped at earlier.

The cows didn’t want to give their sleepy god up so easily…

After that… Beel didn’t want to drive anymore…

“Look, cows.” (Belphie)

I really need to stop with the cow jokes but I CAN’T

*snore*

Belphie’s crammed between Beel and MC for most of the trip and is probably drooling all over poor MC’s lap or shoulder.

Beware, he jolts up randomly and looks around in a panic before he realizes he’s in a car. This happens every three hours.

Belphie’s not allowed to drive, he’d fall asleep. But when Lucifer takes the wheel and puts on that fucking staticky radio, Belphie forms an idea.

“*ahem* four thousand bottles of beer on the wall, four thousand bottles of beer,”

Mission success, Lucifer wanted to tear his hair out.

Belphie ended up asking to stop when they get to a stretch of road with no streetlights, everyone got out of the and stared at the stars.

…listen, it’s a miracle no one got axe murdered but the stars were gorgeous.

Remember when I said Satan put on those language learning DVDs? Yeah uh…. Belphie woke up from his last nap of the trip almost fully fluent in Spanish. At least one person gained a new skill on this trip…

Oooo, Look at Thaaaaat! (Diavolo)

Even though the side characters were in a different car most of the time, sometimes people would switch to the other car if they met up at a gas station.

By the end of the road trip Dia looked like one of those tourist dads, Hawaiian shirt and all.

Dia can’t drive

He’s absorbing human culture… and human culture involves ordering everything at this random Wendy’s.

Diavolo’s camera roll is so unbelievably full by the end of the trip and he refuses to delete ANY of the pictures.

Most of the pictures are of really weird and boring stuff, like traffic signs and trees, but the picture he ends up printing out and putting in a picture frame is a picture of the whole group at the petting zoo having a grand old time.

He wanted to take home a baby goat but Barbatos said that wasn’t a good idea :(

Help. (Barbatos)

So, it could have been worse for Barbatos, he could have been stuck in the car with the brothers and MC.

Dia always had the seat up front, but when he left the car to go hang out with the dude-squad, Solomon got the passenger seat.

Solomon decided it would be a good idea to pester Barbatos to go faster and take weird shortcuts through (probably not legal) backroads and creepy forest paths.

Good thing Barbatos, Luke, and Simeon had functioning brain cells and knew that’s how horror movies began.

Barbatos stopped for fast food once and only once. It’s not healthy!

He’s the only driver to take suggestions for music, meaning that the side characters’ car was the best one of the two.

“SOMEONE GET THE BARF BAG!”(Simeon)

He’s just… he’s just trying his best not to vomit…

Simeon thought the car would be a good place to get some writing done while they drove down long stretches of road. Simeon was wrong in that assumption.

With his head down way too much while the car zoomed down the highway, Simeon felt himself getting *very* sick about four hours in.

He was worried he may have accidentally eaten something of Solomon’s… but nope. The angel was carsick.

Luke had the important job of patting Simeon on the back as he leaned over the barf-bag while Solomon dry heaved up front.

Hurry and open the windows before Solomon barfs too!!!!

Other than the car sickness, he had the job of making sure Luke was entertained, there was a good hour of eye-spy until they just got to a stretch of forest.

After that, Simeon realized that he could just give Luke free permission to ramble about whatever he wanted and that would keep the little guy entertained for HOURS.

What do You Mean I Can’t Legally Make This Turn?! (Solomon)

Shifty bastard can drive, problem is, he doesn’t care about the laws of the road.

He ended up getting pulled over after breaking approximately 11 traffic laws in less than ten minutes.

“License and registration.” “Yeah yeah yeah…” “…sir, this license expired in 1989.” “…shit.”

Solomon gunned it and managed to use his magic to hide the car and evade the very confused traffic cop.

Luke was completely aghast at the flagrant law breaking, but Solomon’s excuse was that the 80s were a lawless wasteland and he completely forgot he legally had to update his license.

He’s an equally obnoxious passenger as he is driver, but at least no one in the car is bored.

“You know, back in the day cars didn’t have seatbelts.” “Solomon put your seatbelt back on.”

…Can we keep it? (Luke)

He was against this from the start. A road trip? With those nasty demons? No! Never!

Okay fine… maybe he wanted to see some more of the human world… he agreed to go.

After helping Simeon through his car sickness, he misheard the other car say that MC would be driving, and Luke wanted to hang out with his third parent 🥺

That’s how he ended up riding shotgun next to Mammon. It started out rough, but when the two spotted the petting zoo it was all sunshine and rainbows.

Luke made friends with all the animals! He was like a little Disney Prince. He got especially attached to this one piglet, it was a surprise to Simeon that the goodbye wasn’t tearful.

Luke smuggled that piglet out of the petting zoo and they were all over fifty miles away before anyone noticed.

Of course, everyone was just shocked that Luke had stolen something, but he looked so cute holding the little piggy… awwww…

The bros obviously joked that Luke had gone to the dark side and was totally evil because he had taken the pig, much to the poor kid’s dismay.

Simeon tried to convince Luke that he needed to return the piglet but Luke was adamant that he could totally take good care of it.

Welp, time for Lucifer to fix this.

“Luke, you need to go put the pig back, it’s not yours.”

“No! I’ll take good care of it!”

“That doesn’t matter, you stole it. It’s not your property, do you want to end up a scummy thief like Mammon?”

“No not at all. Let’s go return the pig.”

“THAT’S ALL IT TOOK?!”

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 2

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

Richard Slessman's bedroom looks like something straight out of a serial killer documentary. floral wallpaper taunts Morgan and I as we walk inside. a model airplane hangs above his bed; cheap medals-- the kind kids get for participation-- decorate the area above his desk, which is littered with books about forensics. there's a carousel of CDs, too.

"whoa." is my brilliant analysis.

"we should have Garcia check out this guy's laptop." Morgan starts to wander around the room, trying to piece together Slessman's head just by examining his things. a group of cops are already huddled at the table with the laptop open, and I realize too late what they're doing.

"log in password." one of them plucks a post-it off the screen, starts to type it in.

"wait, wait--" Morgan and I nearly lunge toward them, but the crackling sound of a fizzing motherboard tells me we're too late. the screen goes black.

"it's not turning back on." Genius #1 observes. Morgan sighs and squeezes his eyes shut in frustration.

"yeah, and it won't. it's a false password."

the cops stare up at us blankly.

"it triggers a complete shut down of his system." I clarify. they share a look, deservedly feeling stupid. I want to roll my eyes, but Morgan's told me that the police on these cases get defensive most of the time; they don't like us on their turf. one glance from my partner, though, and those guys flee the room without another word.

I pull out my phone and dial Garcia's number in the hopes that she can salvage whatever's left of this asshole's computer. we arrested him an hour ago and we can only hold him with probable cause because we don't have any charges yet. this house search could be our only chance to get him in custody.

"well hello, my fresh-faced beauty queen." Penelope answers on the second ring. a slight smile turns up the corners of my mouth.

"hi, Penelope." I watch Derek plugging something into the laptop, then opening another monitor next to it. "listen, Morgan's trying to set up Richard Slessman's computer and I was wondering if you'd be able to hack into it."

"oh, kitten," she sighs contentedly. "that's my bread and butter."

"great. I'm putting you on speaker." I press a button and wait for Morgan to talk. he's typing furiously until a tab pops up with the words "Deadbolt Defense" in bold above a box for a password.

"what's the six at the bottom of the screen mean?" I ask.

"remaining password attempts until it wipes the hard drive." Morgan replies. shit.

"Penelope, there might be a journal or document or something that tells us where Heather is." I inform her.

"what system are we talking?" she asks.

"Deadbolt Defense?"

"Deadbolt is the number one crack-resistant software out there, hon. you're gonna need to get inside this guy's head for the password."

my heart sinks. when my colleague double takes, it makes me think that this is a rare occurrence.

"babygirl, are you serious?" Morgan complains. my shoulders droop. Penelope has been nothing short of genius since I got here. slicing through sealed files and unfurling secret criminal records is always ridiculously easy for her.

"sorry, handsome."

"thanks anyway." I hang up and shove my phone into my back pocket. "so... what now?"

"now," Morgan takes another look around the room. "we get creative."

...

somehow, I wind up in the attic. I don't really know how this happens, seeing as I started by flipping through discs in Slessman's weird quasi-childlike bedroom, but it's certainly an interesting space. Christmas lights are strung about, along with some shawl-like material that drapes raw ceiling.

the laptop sits in front of me, password cursor blinking mockingly while I sit in the chair. my head is aching. despite having the unit go through every single one of the CDs in search of the most-played one (hoping it'll crack the password), there's been nothing.

at least there have been other successes since we got here: we know that Slessman isn't operating on his own. he's the submissive in a partnership with Timothy Vogel, a prison guard where he was incarcerated a while back. the problem is that Vogel was onto us and fled to the kidnapping site, which we can't find. I feel useless sitting here with nothing to offer.

I consider going back downstairs and perusing the room again when I hear footsteps on the stairs. Reid's head pops into the room, spinning a bent paper clip between his fingers.

"hey." I greet curiously.

"I've been thinking about the CDs." he responds, walking over to me. I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes.

"we tried it, Reid. there's nothing there," I slam my back to the cushions with an exasperated groan. "if we don't find something, this girl is dead."

instead of replying, Reid bends down next to the laptop in front of me, squinting at the DVD slot in the side. he pokes the end of his bent paper clip into the small opening.

"I think we may have missed the obvious." he murmurs, working diligently. I scowl.

"what do you--?" in response to my question, the DVD slot pops open and out slides a copy of a Metallica CD. Reid and I look at each other with wide eyes before I snatch the disc out of of the computer and stare at it. "what made you think of this?"

"it was the only empty case." he shrugs. I grin at him.

"okay, okay," we still don't have the password. I read the cover of the case he hands me. "I'm an insomniac who listens to Metallica to fall asleep. what song would make me do that?"

Spencer frowns, grabs the thing back from my hands, and scans the track list within the span of a second.

"'Enter Sandman'." he says. I watch the puzzle pieces fall into place in his brain, those lips parting with a slight smile playing at the edges. his eyes gleam with satisfaction.

"you are a national treasure." I type like the wind, unlocking the screen and immediately digging into his files. Spencer peers over my shoulder as we search for any indication of Heather's location.

"fucking bingo." I mutter when a video feed pops up. it's black-and-white, showing a crate in the corner of the room with a light hanging above it. Heather's inside, eyes duct taped and hands tied in front of her.

Spencer is already dialing Hotch's number. the blood drains from my face as I watch her trying to breathe through the gag in her mouth.

nothing in the feed is helpful in terms of finding out where she is. it's a nondescript room with wooden floors, mostly shrouded in darkness except for the light hanging overhead.

"wait a minute." I pause what I'm doing.

"hm?" Reid asks. I hit a few keys, trying something.

"I'm lining up the last twelve images." I explain as he watches me work. the photos sit in a grid on the screen, causing my heart to stop in my chest when I notice what I've been meaning to find. "look at the light."

"it's shifting positions like it's swaying," he notices. "like the earth is tilting."

"the ocean." I nod. we share another glance, both of our hearts hammering. we're so close to solving this, I can feel it in my chest. "we need to tell Hotch. find out if there are any piers or docks near here. there's no way he could get the webcam image from the middle of the ocean."

Reid nods, runs downstairs as fast as he possibly can. when he goes, I notice the board in the corner of the room: Go, mid-game. I've never learned how to play.

...

by the time I get back to my apartment that night, my limbs feel like jello. I collapse into the chair by my door and rub my eyes again. my head is still pounding now that the adrenaline rush has subsided. we ended up finding Vogel at the docks; Heather is safe. Hotch was shot in the arm, but he'll be fine. and I'm still a little in shock.

I hate the rumble of my stomach as I realize I haven't eaten since this morning. my head was too full of other thoughts to even consider food and after such a long day, I can barely fathom getting up to change into pajamas.

my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see that Garcia texted me.

what are you up to? followed by a series of emojis that make me smile. I sink deeper into the seat before replying.

nothing why?

can I bring over takeout?

I stare at the message for a second with surprise. Garcia is fun and we've had drinks as a team, but I've never hung out with her one-on-one before. I'm curious.

sure. what genre of food should I expect?

Thai. send me your order!

that sounds so good right now, I almost order it myself. part of me is nervous about hanging out with a team member by myself, except she's been so friendly to me. Penelope was the first person to make me feel at home, aside from Prentiss.

I wait patiently for her to arrive, watching some TV and working my way through some leftover paperwork. my thoughts are everywhere right now, but when she tells me she's downstairs, I try to put it all out of my mind.

"hey!" I open the door to see Garcia with an armful of plastic bags.

"I have your curry, and I got chicken satay and spring rolls and fried rice in case you're still hungry." she beams at me. her bracelets make a pleasant clinking noise as she waves the goodies around.

"a woman after my own heart." I smile, stepping aside to let her in. we head upstairs and before long, we're settled on my couch with a full display of food on the coffee table. I heap my plate while she looks around my space.

"this place is so cute!" she says through a bite of spring roll.

"thanks. I've had it for about two years now. that window over there was really the selling point." I point to the enormous view of downtown DC, which is sparkling right now. there's another chair set in front of it, where I sometimes read or nap in my free time.

as we eat, Penelope and I gossip about work and the city and everything else. she's really easy to talk to. when I ask about her life, she doesn't seem guarded at all; unlike a lot of FBI agents I've met, she wears her experiences on her sleeve.

"how are you liking the team so far?" she asks a similar question as I received this morning. I smile to myself before answering truthfully.

"everyone is great. Hotch is kind of terrifying, but I've worked with people like him before." I shrug. he reminds me of one of my old professors: perpetually stoic to the point where he doesn't even seem like a real person. she laughs.

"he's super nice once you get to know him."

"really?" I look up.

"definitely. he's just always got that scowl on his face. don't let it put you off." she pats my hand reassuringly. I sigh, finish chewing my bite. there's been something prodding me since visiting Garcia's tech lair for the first time, when she showed me her collection of puppy calendars and fuzzy pens.

"can I ask you a question?"

"anything, my love." she smiles warmly. I hesitate, hoping I don't ruin the moment somehow.

"how did you get involved in the FBI? you just don't seem very..." my sentence trails off.

"government oriented?" she laughs. "I used to do a lot of hacking in my free time, and I got into some stuff that the government didn't like. and, um-- you know that saying, 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em'?"

I nod.

"it was like that, except they hired me. and I love it." she finishes the last spring roll. I think on this, imagining Penelope doing something so serious that the American government hired her on the spot for her skills. it's interesting.

"so you don't profile at all." I state.

"technically no, but I've picked up a couple things." she smirks.

"oh, yeah? like what?"

"well, it's obvious that you're never home, based on the lack of decoration here." she refers to the mostly blank walls of my apartment. aside from a couple photos of my friends and family, there's not much unique to me. "and you've obviously got a candle addiction." she points to the various spots around the living room, where half-burned pots of wax sit patiently awaiting their next light.

"that's definitely true." I laugh. she gets up and starts to smell the various candles.

"I like this one a lot." she sets down my chai vanilla one. I let her go through my things, despite the fact that Garcia is incredibly reserved about people touching her own little office trinkets. she picks up stray books and memorabilia, occasionally making a comment.

while she does, I finish my curry. I'm way too tired to resist her search, anyway. I'll be curling up in bed soon and praying that tomorrow is a paperwork day. eventually, she settles onto the cushions again.

"you seem tired," she says when she glimpses the dark circles beneath my eyes. "I'll get out of your hair."

"what? oh, I'm sorry." I draw myself up a little more. "this last case just took a lot out of me."

"they all do." she gives me a soft expression, then pats my knee as she stands.

"Penelope." I say as she gathers up her coat and purse.

"yes, darling?"

"thanks. for the food and for coming over." I smile gratefully at her. the tech analyst stands at my door with a look on her face that makes me think we're going to be good friends.

"anytime." she heads out, leaving me on the couch. I stare at the mess of empty takeout boxes that I told her to leave. now that I've eaten, getting up to clean the space is even more difficult. I trudge about the apartment, wash some dishes, and head off to bed.

my body is too exhausted to remember the dreams.

...

"oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I practically sprint into the conference room, swinging my bag down by my feet as I grab the last open chair. JJ is standing at the front of the room with a new case on the screen. everyone stares at me as I settle in. "my train was super delayed."

"everyone is allowed to be late," Hotch barely glances up from the case file. "once."

a chill runs down my spine and my face flushes an embarrassing red as JJ passes me the remaining file. keeping my head down, she notices my discomfort and clears her throat.

"okay, you guys are heading to Arizona today." she clicks a button. some pictures pop up for us to see. "Bradshaw College in Tempe has had six fires in seven months."

it's a video recording of a building from the outside, and two students talking about a fire inside. the camera shifts to show them in their own dorm, examining a strange wet spot leaking into their room. and then one of them catches on fire.

he burns to death on tape. it's jarring, the shrieking noises he lets out as the flames engulf his body. they travel up his legs alarmingly fast, so much so that it's obviously chemical.

"the first fire was in March, the second in May. the third didn't happen until September." JJ explains once the clip is over. "and then two weeks later, there were three that happened in one night."

"he's speeding up." Prentiss observes from her spot next to me.

"82% of arsonists are white males between seventeen and twenty-seven. female arsonists are far less common, with motives usually limited to revenge." Reid sits across the table, adjusting his watch.

I raise my eyebrows at his fact and look more at the crime scene photos. burned flesh is definitely an uncomfortable sight, one that makes my stomach churn.

"sounds like he's a student." Morgan taps his pen against his fingertip and leans back in his chair.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hotch continues to read the document. "we don't want to rely too much on precedent."

at this, I press my knuckles to my chin and try to think of other suspects. he's obviously doing these during the school year, but that doesn't necessitate that he's a student. he could be working on campus-- a professor, even.

"there's a rapid escalation. he's gone from the damage to a building to something far more satisfying." Morgan closes the file and we all look to Hotch.

"wheels up in thirty." he says. I get up to grab my go-bag and gather some things from my desk, my cheeks burning at the memory of being late again. I've never done that before, but I don't want to start now. maybe it's best if I start coming in early, just in case my train gets delayed again. I can't risk losing this job, or being moved to a different department. it was enough of a hassle switching from sex crimes to the BAU. I really want to settle into this position, and that includes having the unit chief not hate me.

"hey." Prentiss catches my wrist just as I'm hurrying out of the room. I turn to her.

"hi."

"a little birdy told me that you and Reid pretty much single-handedly solved that case yesterday." she smiles.

"oh, no. it wasn't just us." I shake my head.

"quit being modest. nice job." she nudges my shoulder as we walk down the steps to the bullpen. "also, I brought a couple of those horticulture magazines that I told you about. we should read them on the jet."

"no way!" I pause at my desk, grinning.

"one of them has a whole section on caring for orchids."

"orchids?" Morgan overhears her from his desk. he appears deeply concerned with our discussion.

"if you have to ask, you wouldn't understand." she smirks. he turns his attention to me in hopes of a clearer answer.

"it's plant care." my explanation seems to be enough to bore him, however, because he just shrugs and returns to packing his bag up. Emily waves the stack of magazines at me before I head over to her desk.

she doesn't really seem like the type of person to be into it, but when Emily caught sight of the air plants I've got scattered on my desk my first week, we got wrapped up in a conversation about them. there's a special magazine subscription as well that has a bunch of helpful tips about where to buy and how to keep them healthy.

I'm flipping through one of the copies on the way to the elevator, my nose buried in a section about how much to water Hoyas, when Reid and JJ pop in next to me. the blonde is on the phone with someone, presumably the Tempe police. I haven't seen much of her recently-- she's been staying behind for most cases-- but she sends me a sweet smile before returning to her call.

"what are you reading?" Spencer's eyes hungrily run over the paper, as if seeing something he hasn't already absorbed in that big brain is unbearable. his hair is slicked back as usual, and his tie is sort of crooked; he's not aware of it. I hold the material between us so he can take a peek.

"a magazine about plants that Prentiss and I like."

"fascinating. can I see?" he grabs it before I can answer, although I don't think he means to. his fingertip runs down the page quickly, and then he's flipping them like mad, staring at the pictures. my eyes widen at how eager he is; I guess his curiosity is enough to override any awkwardness.

"did you know that owning indoor plants is actually correlated to overall mood improvements?" he asks me once he finishes reading, attention still focused on the back cover. the elevator door to the main level slides open.

"no, but I'm proof of it," I take back the reading material and put it in my bag. we walk out into the lobby. his long legs mean that my pace has to quicken a bit in order to keep up. "something about taking care of them is quite nice. they don't need as much attention as a pet, but they still rely on you."

"interesting." he nods.

"I like to think so."

"maybe I'll get one." he muses more to himself than anyone else. I smile at his open-mindedness, keep my eyes on the tiles we're walking over. maybe he, Prentiss, and I can have our own affinity club. he would become more knowledgeable than both of us combined within the span of a week.