#i tried waving back and obviously sank

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

For the 1k fics...maybe another take on them coming back to the ship in s1e4, where Ed's a bit scared and reluctant to let Stede take care of him becuase he's never been able to do that before, and he pretends it's fine until it's obvious he's in such bad shape he needs help?

Yes. YES.

(Still taking prompts for 1k word fics! Can't promise I'll do all of them or will get to them in a timely fashion, but if they inspire me I'm doing them!)

--

Let the record show: Ed only said Stede shouldn’t have expected him to melt back into his arms, he never said Ed wasn’t going to do it.

He’d started the walk back to the ship with his head full of ideas. Even if he couldn’t quite trust Stede was all in, not just yet, not when everything was so fresh, he thought he might’ve been brave enough to reach out to hold his hand.

He didn’t.

Not because he didn’t want to, but because by the time they made it back to the ship, all of his available mental faculties had been entirely devoted to putting one foot in front of the other. 

He was a bit banged up. Nothing to be concerned about. It had only almost killed him.

The crew had been completely expecting Stede to turn back up with Ed in tow (to Ed’s surprise, but not Stede’s), and their only firm condition for that night was that Ed had to be locked into the captain’s cabin overnight.

Ed made it up the ladder, across the deck, and he waited for Stede to turn the key in the lock, and then he let out his breath and collapsed down to his haunches, finally letting himself feel the pain, so acute it promptly made him tear up.

“Ed?”

Stede’s voice was heavy with concern, and with a groan, Ed yanked himself back up to his feet. “Sorry,” he said, hearing his voice like it was coming from underwater. “Bit tired.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Stede frowned sympathetically. “There are some first-aid supplies in the bathroom - I was going to clean you up a bit, earlier, but-”

“No,” Ed said sharply, taking a reflexive step back. “I’ll do it myself.”

That was a very important rule. Blackbeard didn’t go around letting people patch him up; he looked strong and he didn’t show it and he took care of himself, later, when no one could see.

“Okay,” Stede said softly, his frown deepening. “That’s fine, obviously, but if you wanted me to-”

“I don’t,” Ed said quickly, and to make that seem less harsh, he gave Stede a friendly pat on the shoulder. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, call me if you need anything,” Stede said. “I’m going to find you something warm to sleep in, alright?”

“Sure, man.”

Ed would not be calling Stede if he needed anything. Acting pathetic like that was just fuckin’ asking for Stede to leave him again.

Ed hobbled into the bathroom, trying to play the limp off as a casual lean against nearby objects.

When he got to the bathroom, he didn’t really have the strength anymore to keep himself standing up, so he just sank to the floor. That was fine.

He couldn’t hold back a soft cry as he peeled his jacket off and pulled his shirt over his head, and he just had to hope Stede hadn’t heard that. There was a floor-length mirror in here, and he kind of shuffled over to get a look at himself.

He looked like warmed-over shit. The cuts on his temple and cheeks and his split lip stung, and his chest was covered with bruises and scrapes and a few deeper cuts. Some of them would need stitched up, all of them would need cleaning. His chinks were too pink; he tentatively pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and flinched from how hot his skin felt.

He tried to summon up the strength to stand up and grab the first-aid kit from where it sat on top of the sink. The resulting wave of weakness made him double over, forehead landing softly against the mirror, his breath fogging up the glass.

If he didn’t get help, he was going to pass out in here.

Ed clenched his eyes shut.

“Stede?”

He’d called out tentatively, as quietly as he could without whispering, and it all but confirmed his suspicions that Stede had probably been waiting just outside the door when he rushed in.

And it was…a little fucking terrifying, actually, and Ed didn’t know if he was the kind of person who could just trust that easily.

“Alright, Ed,” he realized Stede was saying. “I’m going to help you up - can I touch you?”

Ed nodded, and he slumped into Stede’s side as Stede gently helped him to his feet, helping him hobble to the bed.

Stede told him what he was going to do before touching him, always giving him plenty of warning and time to protest if he’d needed to. He tenderly cleaned and stitched up Ed’s injuries, whispering apologies whenever Ed hissed or winced at the pain.

“You’re doing so well,” Stede told him once he’d cleaned him up and helped him into a soft nightgown, having him lay back on the pillows so he could put a cool cloth on his forehead. “You’re so brave, Ed.”

Ed managed a feeble sort of snort. “I’m acting like a baby.”

“Not at all,” Stede promised. He pulled a chair up next to the bed, and helped Ed lift his head for a drink of water that tasted like heaven going down. “You can rest now, okay? I’ll be here when you get up.”

“Promise.” Ed meant to make it sound like a threat. It didn’t.

“I promise,” Stede said.

Stede left one hand on Ed’s chest, always, as his other hand reapplied the cloth on his forehead, and it didn’t take a tactical genius to know what he was doing there. Feeling for the rise and fall of Ed’s chest beneath his palm, counting the heartbeats beneath his fingers.

And that was something, wasn’t it, that Stede was so scared of not being able to feel those things that he didn’t want to move his hand away even for a second.

You’re safe now. I’ll never leave you again.

Ed closed his eyes, and as he drifted off under Stede’s watchful hands, he came one step closer to trusting that was true.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

[larakb117]

LONDON ADVENTURE

Joseph Quinn & female y/n

Summary: Just smutty smut with Joe & female y/n.

Content warning: rpf, smut (18+), oral (female & male receiving), fluff

Part 12

The next few days were packed with appointments for Joe. You attended his Tonight Show appearance and actually got to know Jimmy Fallon himself. He was a funny and polite guy, introducing himself to you the moment you and Joe arrived at the NBC studios, right after you had went on top of that building: Rockefeller Center. The view from up there was mindblowing. Looking at Central Park, the Empire State Building and the stunning One World Trade Centre in the background let goosebumps run down your whole body.

The tonight show was really fun, a newcomer band performed, you were able to sit in the crowd right at the front. A few minutes before the show officially started some scattered seats got filled with some more people. You got a glimpse at one of them, who wore a Joseph Quinn shirt, crying in her seat. Joe sat in his seat, answered Jimmys questions and just looked so handsome. They both played Mad Lip Theatre together, which was hilarious and actually one of your favorite challenges they do on the show, so it was pretty cool to see it live. After they had finished filming the show, you were guided back to Joes backstage room. You rushed into his arms as soon as you stepped into the room: “Babe, you were amazing!”, Joe hold you close and kissed your forehead. “Thanks, love.” His hands rubbed your back up and down. You looked up to him, he stood really straight while you kind of sank into his arms, that’s why your little height difference multiplied by, what felt like, 5. Joe hold you for a couple of minutes. “Wanna grab something to eat?” You nodded and loosened the tight grip on his upper body.

Just some streets downtown from the NBC Studios you and Joe took a seat outside of one off the restaurants on the side of the street. Like always Joe hold your hand with his, they laid right in the middle of the table between you. After a bit of chatting and eating the food you had ordered you just sat their together and watched the most diverse people walking by. Suddenly one of those persons stopped rapidly and looked at Joe in disbelief once she perceived him. “Oh my god, you are Joseph Quinn!” Joe smiled shyly and ran his hand through his hair: “Yeah.”, he simply said. The girl chuckled nervously and stared at Joe for a moment. “You want to take a picture or something?”, Joe obviously tried to break the awkward silence between them. “Oh, yes. Hahaha!”, the girl laughed and her face turned red immediately. Joe stood up, laid his hand on her shoulder and they took a selfie. “What`s your name darling?”, Joe asked. “I´m Cara.”, she answered, shaking because of her tension. “Can I hug you?”, Cara asked. Joe went straight in, and hugged Cara. It was a long hug, definitely distant but you still felt a little sting in your chest. He also rubbed her back, not like he did with you, but still, the little sting was there. Joe broke the hug and sat back down at the table: “Have a lovely day, Cara!”, he winked at her and waved, when she turned around and continued her walk.

Joe looked at you: “You okay?”, he obviously had recognized your nervous hand scratching, that you always did when you felt uncomfortable. He tried to reassure you with a tiny smile and a little hand squeeze as he took your hand again. “Yeah, yeah…”, Joe did not believe you for sure. He knew exactly what was going on, you could see it in his eyes. Just a few days with him, but you already knew each other that well. “D´you know what? We should get to the hotel now.” He cheekily smiled at you now. You immediately understood. The sting was gone. Joe chuckled, grabbed your arm and ran to the next available cab with you.

The moment the backdoor of the cab got closed and Joe had told the driver the address of the hotel, he attacked your neck by roughly kissing and und running his tongue up and down, your head fell to the side to give him better access. His tongue touched your earlobe where he started to nibble a bit. Everything he did with his mouth made you moan, no matter which part of your body he touched with it. His hands got caught in your hair, you clenched your thighs together, you needed him right now. The cab driver cleared his throat at the front seat and Joe and you, separated right away. “We´re here.”

Joe paid and again grabbed your arm, teared you out of the car and into the lift at the hotel lobby. You were alone, so Joe kissed you again and again, your body stuck between his and the lift wall, this time it was sensual kisses on your lips. The fast switch from rough and passionate to slow and soft made your head dizzy. The lift door opened, Joe ran down the hall to your room and opened it with the key card. In chuckles you entered the room, Joe rapidly pushed you to the nearest wall and kissed you. His mouth wandered from your lips, down your jaw and neck and over the blouse you had decided for this morning. He pushed the waistband of it a little bit up, to gently kiss your lower stomach.

Roughly he pushed down your jeans and panties underneath at the same time. They were wrapped around your ankles now while Joe started to kiss you where you really needed him. You bumped your head to the wall in your arousal. Joe lifted your left leg up on his shoulder, he was on his knees for you. The little pressure of his tongue on your clit while he grabbed your thighs made you cum fast and hard. Your hands were tangled in his curls, trying to push him even more into your pussy, riding out your high against his face. His name escaped your throat several times, mixed with loud moans and sighs.

Joe removed your leg from his shoulder and guided you to the bed, where you laid in front of him. He removed your jeans completely, and opened the buttons of you shirt, until you were displayed entirely naked for him. He bit his lower lip and looked you deep in the eyes. “Damn, you are the most beautiful human I know, love.” You shyly smiled and sat up to undress him too. You could see his bulge clearly forming in his pants.

His shirt went to the floor, his pants followed them, then his boxers, his cock sprang free and for the first time, you felt like you wanted to try one of those things you were afraid of the whole time. “I want to blow you.”, you said to Joe staring at his hard cock right in front of your head. “You… what?”, Joe heavily exhaled. Now you looked up to him: “I want to blow you, Joe.” “You want my dick in your mouth?” “Yes.”, you were so sure, but Joe was obviously unsure about it. “You don’t want it?” “Oh I would love to, y/n. But are you sure about that?” You hectically nodded and touched his length, to start off, with your right hand. He moaned into the touch, which made you smile in pride. Your hand pumped his cock a few times, precum leaking out of it.

Then you wrapped your lips around his tip. Joe couldn’t contain a loud grunt. His hands were in your hair, slightly pulling at them. You loved the effect it had on him. You slowly started to get some more of his cock into your mouth, your tongue playing with it too, Joe letting out the filthiest sounds. “Oh, I´m so close.” You sucked him harder, taking more and more of his hard cock into your mouth, almost your throat, until your gag reflex kicked in. His breathing got heavier, which made you pussy throb. You needed him, very bad. “Y/n, I´m cumming. Where?”, was everything Joe managed to get out. You wanted him right inside, so you did not let go, when you felt his cock twitching in between your lips. The hot rope of cum shot down your throat, a weird but good feeling, you swallowed all his cum straight away.

Joe let out the loudest groan you ever heard from him. His hands were still in your hair with a tight grip, pushing your head more onto his cock which let it touch the back of your throat. He tasted amazing. You would have never thought that you would do something like this: deep throating a man in a hotel room in New York City.

Joe giggled a bit, and pulled his cock out of your mouth. “Damn, that was great.”, he sighed and sat down on the floor, aligning his face with yours. The entire time he had stood, while you kneeled on the bed. Joe smiled at you: “Thank you.” He cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss. It was loving, long and intense. You wondered if he could taste himself in the kiss. “Already excited for the next time.”, you cheekily smiled back at Joe.

You hadn’t thought that it would be so enjoyable for yourself to give somebody a blowjob, but it was, at least with Joe. “It´s your turn again now.” He pushed you on your back onto the bed, and crawled on top of you. His hands next to your head at first he started to slow kiss you, running his tongue around your lips and then into your mouth, when you slightly opened it. One of his hands left the position to gently touch your clit.

Your whole body clenched together, you moaned into his mouth, deepening the wet kiss even more. “Joe.” “Yes?” “Please…” Joe interrupted your kiss and went straight down on you. His arms spread your legs, you tried to watch him but your head fell back the moment he laid his mouth on your clit. Moans, grunts, sighs, groans left your throat. He was so good at this, he never missed. Now it was your turn to bury your hands in his hair. The noises he made, while sucking you down there made you crazy in the best way possible. His head was trapped between your thighs now, your hands pushing him more and more in. His hands had a tight grip on your thighs as well. You slightly pushed up your hips, hovering over the sheets underneath. You were close, very close.

Joe added one of his fingers in your throbbing hole, a second one joined just a few seconds later, hitting your sweet spot instantly because he curled his fingers just the right angle. That made you scream his name. Your hotel neighbours were probably pretty annoyed by the constant sex noises from your room, but you didn´t care. All you could think about right now was the orgasm building up. You came hard, and loud, obviously. Joe left your soaking temple and hovered right above your face with a wide smile. “Was it good?” “You dumbass!” , you both bursted into an uncontrollable laugh. After some cuddling, kissing and making out you decided to have a pee, safety first. Your girlfriends always told you about that, but the sex you and Joe had within the last week never really led up to you leaving for the bathroom. You simply really had to pee.

To be continued…

@eviethetheatrefreak

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #eddie munson #joe quinn #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fanfiction #fluffy #joseph quinn rpf #rpf #joe quinn rpf #slow burn

[shieldofiron]

Sub top Steve and bottom dom Billy

Do what you will with this

Ahhh someone's been reading my munver fic. Ok lets have a little fun. Lemon obviously, just some chill light bdsm.

Riding Steve was better than riding any wave. Billy rolled his hips and purred, throwing his head back with pleasure.

“Rougher, princess,” Billy whispered, snapping his hips, “Come on give me that cock.”

Steve’s tongue swept across his lower lip and he threw his hips into it harder, his eyes darting from Billy’s face, across his chest, down to where they were joined.

Steve tried to reply but it just came out as a broken whimper.

“Don’t come yet,” Billy reached down and gripped Steve by the chin, “Come on, where’s that fire?”

“But, B-Billy please,” Steve’s pretty pink mouth hung open, “I’ll… Billy…”

“Oh I know, princess, I know it feels good, but haven’t you heard?” Billy tugged Steve’s face until he nodded, “I come first. So put your back into it.”

Steve groaned softly, “Billy…”

“Getting tired, baby?” Billy pouted, “Come on, you only have to make me cum. That’s so easy, baby. Can’t you just try? For me?”

“Billy,” Steve arched back, a bead of sweat dripping down his flushed collarbone into his chest hair, which Billy gripped, “Can I touch please?”

“Feel good?” Billy rolled his hips, whimpering as he pressed Steve into his prostate, “No touching, princess.”

Steve looked at Billy’s cock with glistening Bambi eyes, “Please, please, Billy, I want it, I’m…”

“I know,” Billy grinned, leaning forward to flick his tongue against Steve’s pretty pink upper lip. “I know it feels good baby.”

“Does it feel good for you, Billy?” Steve leaned up eagerly, angling for a kiss, “Billy, p-please…”

“Feel so fucking good baby, love you deep like this, and if you are just a little rougher on me,” Billy ground down, “I’ll come all over your pretty chest. Does that sound nice?”

Steve groaned, arching into it when Billy tugged on his chest hair, and then finally gathered Billy up, flipping them so that Billy bounced gently on the bed while Steve drove into him.

“There,” Billy gasped, “Right there. Good boy. Fuck princess, you feel that?”

Steve nodded, “Ahh… Billy, kiss, please I need it, daddy.”

“You keep fucking me like this and you can have whatever you want. Good boy.”

Steve was sloppy, mouth open a little too wide, tongue a little loose, messy. Billy loved it, though, loved throwing his arms around his eager princess and feeling all of Steve’s love. The pace was brutal; but the water was just fine for Billy. Pleasure splashed over him like a wave and he sank into it, limbs going tight around Steve before he came across Steve’s chest.

“Can I?” Steve pulled back from the kiss, “Please, daddy.”

Billy shuddered a little, overstimulated and weak with the force of Steve’s kisses. Steve drove into him until he shivered again, his poor pink cock twitching weakly.

“Go on, be a good boy, baby,” Billy stroked along Steve’s back, “Cum for me.”

Steve roared, burying his face in Billy’s curls and pounding into him.

“Good boy, princess,” Billy whispered. “How do I taste?”

Steve reached up and swiped a little of Billy’s cum off his stomach, sucking it off his finger with a groan.

“Like the ocean,” Steve lashed his arms around Billy and held tight.

“That’s right,” Billy cuddled against his chest, “Good fucking boy.”

#harringrove #lemon #billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve harrington #asks #dom bottom billy #subby top Steve #it’s a beautiful thing #Steve Harrington's Hairy Chest #tw daddy kink

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Five lines tag

Thanks @dyrewrites for the tag!

Rules: find five lines based on the prompts you're given, then change ONE of the prompts at the end!

A line about a weapon

From The Secret Portal Part One

Kwasiyaa watched the battle begin to disappear, and glimpsed her sister locked in a one-on-one struggle with a tall figure, dwarfing Atsila by comparison. From here, Kwasiyaa could make out the figure pulling out something bright, holding it steady and out of Atsila’s sight. Kwasiyaa squinted, trying to figure out what it was, but before she could, her sister’s body convulsed as the light was jammed into her stomach.

A sad line

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Gwen POV)

Lexi paused from texting, finally looking up at me. “You’re the one who got her dust all over yourself. Why aren’t you feeling bad about not being able to grab her in time? She literally slipped between your fingers, and you don’t even seem that broken up about it! How can you sit there with your boyfriend and pretend things are alright when one of our friends is gone and it’s your fault!? How does guilt not plague your mind when your sleep?” Lexi was breathing heavily, obviously shaking as she tried to hold back tears, her face contorting to control herself. Yes, her words hurt, but I figured out who they were really directed at. “You blame yourself for not being able to reach out for her,” I whispered.

A line with taste

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Carmen POV)

A sickening feeling pierced my stomach as we tumbled through the shadows. I couldn’t see anything. I was only aware of Atsila’s hand gripping mine tightly. I hated the dark. The shadows. The isolation. But Atsila was there, not letting go. I suddenly lurched forward, as if I was in a transport that suddenly jolted to a halt. I collapsed into Atsila’s arms, almost pulling her over due to our height difference. She steadied me and helped me to stand up straight. “I’m going to be sick,” I said suddenly and threw up over the nearest bush. I straightened up and turned to Atsila. “Thanks,” I said, the taste of bile still in my mouth.

A line that is whimpered

From The Secret Portal Part One (Jedi POV) - CW: parental abuse via fantasy violence

“I told your mother you should go to a school of nullocks like yourself.” “I’d like that,” I said, hoping agreeing would help. “I would rather not get bullied.” My father stepped into the room, keeping the door open. As he neared my bed, I sank further into the pillow. He leaned over me, his arm on the other side of the bed, trapping me. I found myself staring into his gray eyes—the only feature we shared. “Agreeing with me now, boy? Trying to get on my good side?” “No,” I said, voice small. “I just happened to agree with you.” He stood up straight. He raised his hand, and that same sharp, burning pain was felt in my head. “Stop,” I whimpered, pressing my hands to my temples. “If you’re getting bullied at school, we should toughen you up.”

A funny line

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Lexi POV)

“Lexi!” I looked up to see Akash waving me over. Gwen, Hye-Jin, and Noelle shared the table with him. “If the total nerds are boring you, come join us!” Maddie waved a mocking “bye,” which Ash and Robbie immediately joined in on before returning to their conversation. I grabbed my planner, smiled, and went, “Bye, nerds,” as I stood and went to the others, joining them at the round table they were based at. “What are we talking about here?” I asked as I sat between Akash and Noelle. “If you were a worm, how long would you be?” Akash asked. I couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped me. “What?” “We were not discussing that,” Noelle said, but I could tell she was amused.

Tagging @blind-the-winds @buffythevampirelover @jessicagailwrites @sarahlizziewrites @little-peril-stories @lesleymoonwriter @forevermagik @chauceryfairytales @sleepywriter00 @songsofsomnia

Y'all's words:

A line about a building

A sad line

A line with taste

A line that is whimpered

A funny line

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester

#the secret portal #tsp #tsp excerpt #lexi morgan #gwen amante #kwasiyaa vaughn #dylan vaughn #atsila mclain #carmen asghar #jedi moon #akash singh #noelle bishop #maddie morgan #ash hathaway #robbie stafford #hye-jin song #find five lines tag #find five lines #writing tag game #writing blog #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community #my writing

[jacksdinonuggets]

~Overwhelmed~

Summary: Charlie gets a little overwhelmed and goes into an anxiety attack. oh no! luckily Lucifer can help her.

The smell of sweet apple pie filled the hotel as Lucifer took his pastry out of the oven. It smelled magnificent. He baked it just right. Since they never got to celebrate their victory, having to rebuild the hotel quickly and what not, the residents were holding a small party in the dining room area. There were pastries, deserts, appetizers, and more junk food with drinks. Everyone was downstairs, chatting, having a good time. Everyone except Charlie. Lucifer knew she wouldn’t want to miss out on his pie, she loved it! So he went to search for her.

“Where ya going, short king?” Angel asked when he saw that Lucifer was leaving.

“Charlie hasn’t come down yet so I’m going to go get her. She doesn’t want to miss my apple pie” he explained, “toodle-loo!” he waved before exiting the kitchen.

He walked in the hallways, checking each room, trying to find out where she was. It was a hotel for goodness sake! She could be anywhere! It was strange though, how she didn’t come down immediately after smelling the deserts coming out of the oven. She had a very strong sweet tooth. 

Now he was getting worried. He checked almost all the places she could be. Her office, the library, the living room, a bunch of random rooms, and a balcony. The only place he hadn't checked was her room. So he made his way back down to the 1st floor and walked towards the staff hall, where all the staff’s bedroom’s were. He saw that Charlie and Vaggie’s room’s door was cracked open. Suspicious. He moved closer to it, and heard strange noises coming from inside. This got him worried. He slowly opened the door, a creak coming from it.

“Charlie? You okay?” he asked as he entered. When he took in the view that greeted him, he could tell that she was obviously not okay.

His little girl was clutching her stuffed ducky, panting heavily as she rocked back and forth in the middle of her bed, sitting criss cross applesauce. Her eyes shot up to meet his when she was alerted that another being entered her presence. She gasped for air as her hyperventilating became worse.

Charlie didn’t want to be seen right now. It was embarrassing to have someone watch you as you’re having a panic attack. That’s why she started to get worse the more he looked at her.

“Ducky, what’s wrong?” he went up to her, trying to remain calm himself. He knew if he started panicking about what to do, she would get worse.

However, Charlie didn’t answer and just continued to gasp for air.

“Take some deep breaths, Char-Char, you can do it,” he sat next to her, putting a hand on her back. She sank in her fathers touch. It was comforting but not enough. It was still hard.

“You got this, sweetie, In,” he paused, “And out” he exhaled, showing her how to breathe.

She followed his instructions, trying to get a grasp. It was so hard to ground herself. This panic attack was really bad. Lucifer could tell too. So he massaged her scalp. That always seemed to help calm her down. 

Soon enough, she managed to get a grasp, no longer feeling like she had run a marathon with no break. 

“You okay now, Char-Char?” he asked. He squeezed her ducky even more but nodded, “what happened?”

“I-I- I started thinking a-about Dazzle and that got me thinking about heaven. How they could attack at any moment without warning. What if they ruin the hotel again? What if Vaggie or the other’s die?!” She started back up again, but Lucifer was quick to act and calmed her down.

“Duckling, it’s okay, the hotel is safe. I’m here, Alastor’s here, and Vaggie can take care of herself and the other’s just fine,” he said. 

“M scared, Dada.” she snuggled up in his lap, slipping right into little space.

Lucifer, sensing the drop in her headspace, hugged her and played with her hair.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart. Your daddy will beat up anyone who dares attack the hotel!” He promised before tickling her armpits. She giggled and tried slamming her arms against her waist, but it was no use for the tickle monster. Her smile filled her face, bringing sunshine to rain. It made Lucifer happy that his little girl was feeling better.

“I love you, sweetie,” he kissed her forehead. He summoned Charlie’s rainbow paci and a childrens book. He plopped the soother in her mouth.

“Wanna hear a story?” He asked, opening the book. She nodded, needing the love of her father and a distraction from her anxious thoughts.

“Once upon a time…” he began.

When the story was over, Charlie was begging for another one. So he read her another one. And then another one. And one more. And by the time Charlie got bored, Lucifer needed a nap. He wondered how she would react if he brought her downstairs with everyone.

“Hey ducky? Do you want to come downstairs? We’re having a bit of a party and there's even apple pie,” He proposed.

“Apple pie?! Ye’sh!” she lisped due to the pacifier in her mouth. She put her arms in the air, asking for uppies. Him being a short king, and Charlie being really tall made it look and feel weird to hold her. But it helped his daughter so he had to bear through it.

When Lucifer brought Charlie downstairs, everyone was very accepting of her. She was carrying her ducky with her and played with it too while she was at the party. She mainly kept to herself, playing on the floor and running around the kitchen and dining room, but she also would go up to the others whenever she wanted attention. Luckily, everyone would give it to her within a heartbeat. It was cute to see Charlie, waddling around with her pacifier and carrying around a stuffy. Even though she was really tall, she managed to look really small. 

During the party, Charlie was given a lot of sweets. She would give puppy eyes if anyone was hesitant. She also asked almost everyone there if she could have more candy and deserts. No one could say no. She loved the apple pie the best though. Unfortunately that led to a big tummy ache. 

Charlie curled up under one of the tables and whimpered, squeezing Quacky. She ate too many sweets and now had to pay for it. She whined as another stomach cramp rolled over her. 

Lucifer noticed how his little girl was nowhere to be seen and immediately got worried. He heard a whine that sounded like Charlie and followed the noise. He came upon a table in the corner of the room. He looked underneath it and saw poor Charlie, laying on the ground, hugging her stuffy and sucking on her pacifier. Most of the time, she just had it in her mouth for comfort, but the fact that she was sucking on it heavily, made him know she was in pain.

“Hey little one, you okay?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Tummy hurts,” she whimpered

“You ate too much?” he asked, to which she nodded. He sighed and pulled her out from under the table and lifted her up. He carried her back upstairs and set her down in her bed. He laid her down and changed her into some pajamas before giving her a tummy soothing pill. He also set a trashcan next to her in case anything came up. 

Tucking her in, he gave her a kiss on the head. She needed a nap. Tummy pains weren’t fun to deal with and it often tuckered the poor girl out. She was almost fully asleep when he turned out her lights. It hurt him to see his baby girl in pain, but he was also happy that she was feeling better and could regress around others.

#agere writing #agere fanfic #sfw agere #age regression #hazbin hotel agere #sfw littlespace #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel age regression #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin lucifer

[keebwee]

Whumptober Day 2 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

Summary: Donatello gets sick in the bad future timeline. He just wants his brother to be there with him. Unfortunately, he isn't.

AO3

CONTENT WARNINGS: PAST SIBLING DEATH, GRIEVING, ILLNESS

fic under the cut

"Donnie, I need you to check up on the A-wing; there's been some kind of—woah, what the hell happened to you? You look like shit." Donnie lazily turned to look at his twin, who stood in his doorway, his massive shadow looming over Donnie. His prosthetic arm—Raph's old prosthetic arm—stood out like a sore thumb.

"Nothing's wrong, Leo," Donnie mumbled. "I'm fine. Just... tired." Yup. Definitely.

"Just tired, my ass," Leo swore. "You look horrible. Are you feeling okay?" He stepped into the room, placing a hand on his hip.

"I said I'm fine. What was it you needed me to do?" Donnie dismissed his concern. Obviously, their base was far more important than how he was feeling. His body could wait.

"I can get someone else to do it." Leo was standing next to Donnie, now. "It's just a simple door malfunction." He lifted his real hand to feel Donnie's forehead and hissed. "You're burning up. We need to get you to medbay."

"No, I'm fine, Nardo," Donnie snapped. "I'll go fix the—the..." He trailed off, suddenly overcome with a powerful wave of dizziness. He swayed, before tilting over the side of his chair and falling.

"Donnie! Shit, shit!" Leo grabbed him just before he could hit the floor. The cool metal of his Raph's prosthetic arm pressed against Donnie's cheek and he sighed. "Oh my god, you're so heavy now. Okay, up we go!" He hoisted the softshell up into his arms, adjusting him so he was carrying him bridal style.

"Put me down..." Donnie groaned. 

"Nah." Leo didn't put him down. "We're going to the medbay, where you're gonna sit in bed till you're better. Can't have my favorite twin melting while he tries to fix a door, can I?" Donnie didn't respond. He didn't say anything even when they made it to the medbay, nor when he was tucked into bed after a quick examination by Leo himself.

Eventually, Mikey and April popped into the room. Donnie didn't notice them till Mikey had made his way into his bed and curled up next to him. April took his temperature and got him to begrudgingly accept a damp washcloth for his forehead, despite his distaste for it. He spaced out, setting his chin on Mikey's head as the box turtle nestled into the crest between his chest and neck. At some point, he found himself relaxing and slipping into an uncomfortable sleep.

Donnie wasn't doing well; anyone could see that. His fever had worsened within the past 10 hours he'd been in the medbay, and whenever he was woken up to eat or drink he barely seemed to process it. He'd mumble in his sleep, and Mikey thought he'd even had a few nightmares, based on the whines and jerky movements he'd make every once in a while. 

So when he woke up and looked at them, Mikey's eyes lit up with joy.

Until he uttered the most heartbreaking thing he could've said.

"R'ph?" 

Mikey's heart sank. 

Raph had been dead for two years, now, and Donnie thought he was here. Either that, or he wanted him. Both situations were horrible.

April took the initiative, kneeling down next to Donnie's head and shushing him. "Raph's not here right now, Dee," She said quietly. "It's just us. Me, Mikey, and Leo." Donnie blinked at her tiredly, taking a few moments to process what she'd said.

"Where... is he?" He mumbled. "When—" He was cut off by a harsh coughing fit, prompting Leo to sit him up and rub his shell soothingly. Donnie was so weak he had to lean up against Leo to remain upright. His head sagged forward as he wheezed. 

"He's not here." Leo kept rubbing his shell. When the coughing calmed down, Donnie curled into himself and whined. "Hey, hey. It's okay. We've got you." 

Mikey scooted closer to Donnie, taking his hand and tracing his fingers with his own in an attempt to calm Donnie down. Maybe himself, too. Not that he'd admit that to anyone here.

"Raph..." Donnie was crying now. "Where is he—I need him! I—" He wheezed again. "Raph—!" He was sobbing.

His family didn't know what to do. It wasn't often anyone saw the softshell cry like this, let alone when he was sick. Sick Donnie and crying Donnie weren't often expressed together. 

Suddenly, Donnie turned and latched onto Mikey. His skin was boiling and coated in sweat. 

"Woah, woah!" Mikey laughed dryly. "Let's lay back down, Dee." Donnie nodded, sniffling and mumbling quietly. Mikey lowered himself and his older brother back down onto the bed and motioned for either of his siblings to cover the two in the blanket. They did.

Donnie fell asleep soon after, tears still dripping down his face as he slept.

This dance repeated for almost four days. Donnie would wake up, he'd panic and look for his oldest—and, friendly reminder, deceased brother, and then latch onto whoever was closest to him. Usually, that person would be his family, but once or twice it was a nurse who happened to be caring for him while the others slept.

 "Donnie, you need to eat something, please." April showed him a tray of food she'd grabbed from their makeshift cafeteria. All it was were crackers, miscellaneous meat jerky, and grits. These were common foods for Donnie. But he refused to eat it. "It doesn't have to be a lot! Even just a single bite."

Donnie shook his head. "My stomach hurts. I'm not hungry."

"Please?" April pleaded.

"...Fine," Donnie replied tiredly. He reached out and grabbed a cracker, taking a small bite and placing the cracker back on the tray. "Did it." He turned over onto his side, nestling his face into his pillow. April sighed and took the tray back, leaving Donnie alone again.

He was still feeling incredibly out of it. The room was always spinning and he constantly felt nauseous. He just wanted to sleep and wake up feeling normal again. He wanted Raph.

Ah. There it was again. 

He sniffled, bringing a shaky hand up to his face and wiping away his growing tears. He missed Raph so, so much. When the turtles were kids, they'd get sick every now and then. Raph would always stay with them till they felt better. Donnie wanted that. 

Sure, Leo and Mikey were with him a lot, but he knew if Raph were here, the softshell would never be left alone. He wanted his big brother. A sob erupted from him and he shoved his face into his pillow to muffle his cries. His attempt was in vain, because his brothers had just so happened to be walking in.

"Aw... Dee." Donnie heard Mikey say. A hand was placed on the side of his head and he leaned into it. "Your fever's getting better, I think," He mumbled. "You need a hug?" Donnie nodded. Mikey sat on his bed and wrapped an arm around him. His other arm went and grabbed his blanket, pulling it over himself and Donnie like he had so many times already. 

"How's he lookin'?" Leo asked Mikey as he scooped up the thermometer and a clean rag. 

"His fever's down." Mikey rubbed Donnie's arm as he spoke. "April said he took a bite of a cracker. Is the tray still in here?" 

"Yeah, it's right here. The guy took the smallest bite," Leo sighed. "Is he awake?" 

"I think." Mikey nudged Donnie and he hissed. "Yup, he's awake."

Leo made his way over with the tray. "Don-Tron, Dee, Donnie." 

"What," Donnie mumbled.

"Can you eat a full cracker for me?" Donnie looked at the slider, who's eyes looked broken and tired, with visible bags. He looked exhausted. Maybe he should eat a cracker? No, he's too nauseous.

"You're nauseous probably because you haven't eaten. Just eat one or two," Mikey murmured. Donnie groaned at him before reaching out a hand to grab a cracker. He shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewed it for a few seconds, and swallowed it whole. His brothers' eyes lit up. Donnie grabbed another and ate it. Leo smiled softly.

Donnie ate just a little bit more before he pushed the tray away and nestled back into his pillow, falling asleep.

#whumptober2023 #no.2 #thermometer #delirium #illness #sibling death #past sibling death #grief/mourning #rottmnt #fic #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt whumptober #keebwee whumptober #local writes #rottmnt fic #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt april

[fallenwhumpee]

Consider, perhaps, if you want to write more pet whump: leader pet whump :D two fun tropes in one!!

:D anon

Pet

•Masterlist •

Warnings: Restrains, collar, electrocution.

Whumper tugged the chains, Leader falling onto their knees. They grunted, their throat burning. The collar was too tight, thorns in it digging into their skin.

"Watch closely. I want you to know everything I do to destroy your team."

Leader stood shakily, the chains clanging with their movements. They reluctantly looked at the table and felt their strength abandon them at the sight. Whumper kept them standing, grasping their arms harshly.

"Don't look away."

Blueprints of their base, camera shots, and notes about their routine and more.

"No," they gasped. Their voice was ragged, their throat being thorn with their hitching breaths.

"Yes. Now you will stay still as I instruct my squad."

Whumper let them go, and they collapsed like a puppet cut out of their strings, cold floor against their warm skin sending goosebumps to their spine.

They had been careful, so carefully. How could that be? After everything Leader had done to cover their tracks, how could Whumper know everything?

They felt nauseous as the room filled, Whumper's voice plotting the end of their team like a whip wrecking them. They didn't want to listen, but Whumper kept pulling their collar to look and listen. Leader couldn't cry, the collar digging more into their neck with the every sob they surpassed.

"Your team will love this." Whumper turned to them and pulled the chain up. Leader struggled to keep it loose. They were too exhausted to stand up, the thorns cutting their skin. "And I will never have to worry about them trying something foolish to take you from where you belong."

Whumper released the chains, and Leader slumped, struggling to breathe.

"Lovely." Whumper turned them with a kick. "You'll make a good pet. Just need to kill the light in your eyes." They knelt, opening the collar. "And this suits you."

Leader was yanked back from their shirt, Whumper smiling. "Take them to the room."

They didn't trash as they were dragged back and thrown into the small room with three grey and one glass wall. They didn't flinch with the water on the ground, just breathing in relief with no shock wave. They sank to the corner, closing their eyes.

"That looks like an infection."

Leader flinched awake, feeling drowsy with a panick of not knowing how long they were out as the shadows of fever cycles cling to their mind. They lifted their head, recognising Villain's blurry form at the other side of the glass.

Villain motioned the only guard to go.

"Tell me what happened in Whumper's office. They usually don't risk cutting your throat like that."

Leader couldn't answer with their throat burning. They wouldn't if they could, too, not trusting the very person betrayed them. Leader had tried to cut their all ties with Villain, changing safehouses, identities, and even key characteristics of the team's physical appearance. Not successful, obviously. But they still had no idea how Whumper could get their base's plans.

"What's Whumper planning?"

The open cables at the other side of the room crackled, and Leader screamed with pain, but not for so long. They tried to breathe as they pushed themselves more towards the wall, getting smaller with the shiver taking over.

"I don't want to do this again. Tell me what they are planning. I want to save the team."

One of the glass panels opened, and Villain stepped in. Leader first looked at their feet, yellow plastic bots exposing Villain's first action if Leader kept their silence.

Leader didn't hope to think of any other thing. They were in this prison for so long that they knew better. Hope was never in their thoughts, too, even before. Trust? Yes. Trust to their mostly insane but just as brilliant plans, trust to their team. But never hope. Hope was the only thing that let them down every time.

"Can't talk?" Villain reached Leader, but they flinched, not able to stop themselves from starting to shiver again. They hated to look this vulnerable, weak, but hated more that they were falling apart.

Villain reached again, this time gently touching their wet forehead.

"You should tell me so I can help the team. I can't break you out, but I can save them."

Leader leaned into the touch, a whimper escaping. They nodded.

Villain disappeared with a notice to come back soon, leaving them alone. Leader tried to calm themselves, praying that they made the right choice.

Villain came back with a pen and paper, helping Leader to sit straight to write. Leader tried to keep their handwriting stable, but it was impossible with their trembling hands and vision blurred by tears.

"Will they believe me if I show this to your team?"

Leader nodded. Villain turned back, stopping at the door.

"Be a good pet. Don't anger Whumper." They said with a heavy voice. The door closed, and Villain folded the paper before turning back.

"And... I'm sorry. For everything."

-•-

Today is my birthday. This is my cake. Hope you find it up to your tastes.

#:D anon #whump #whump writing #leader whumpee #leader whump #restrains #collar #electrocution

[mediocre-daydreams]

HI 🫶🏻🫶🏻 it’s the mind reader anon !! can i please request for “I’m not as good as you think I am.” X “Maybe, but you’re everything to me.” OR “nobody needs me,” x “i need you.” with bucky barnes?

YEAH SURE USING AN EMOJI DIDNT COME TO MIND BUT im gonna use this from now on 🐙

— 🐙

I HAD 3 CUPS OF STRAIGHT BLACK COFFEE AND WROTE THE WEIRDEST THING I'VE EVER... EVERED. HERE IT IS!! I'M SO SCARED OF MY OWN BRAIN RIGHT NOW!! I LOVE YOU!!

the eggs benedict to your mass production

college! himbo!bucky x tutor! cynical!reader (and both of them are stupid) notes: absolute crack, it's all just infatuated bucky going from himbo to educated, emotionally mature feminist king like every other word, mutual pining, swearing, a shit ton of dialogue but it's good fucking dialogue, dramatic bucky, you're stupid, he's kind of stupid but like no, just read it and find out i swear it's worth it

w/c: 2k .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. “you’re really good at this, you know,” bucky whispered, his peppermint breath caressing your face. he was tucked into your side, one elbow on the table, one arm around your chair—sure, maybe it was a bit too close to be professional, but neither of you was complaining.

“thanks,” you murmured, not bothering to glance up and meet his eye, partially because you were concentrated on the work in front of you, and partially because you knew you’d get flustered and expose your big, fat crush on the boy who’d, for some reason, was taken by you.

well, not “taken,” exactly. he wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, though both of you wished that could be true; both of you also did not realize your feelings were reciprocated. in more specific terms, he was taken, as in ‘awed by,’ your determination.

whether that be your raised hand, steady and confident in class, or the quick wit that you weren’t afraid to weaponize against anybody who dared challenge you, or even the determination you’d initially had to avoid him.

bucky knew he wasn’t exactly in your league, so to speak. your social circles might as well be different planets, but he figured you were an actual planet and he was your moon, circling around you, forever and ever trapped in your gravitational orbit. (at least, that’s the comparison he would make if he was passing physics.)

and that’s how you’d met him. you had lingered after class was dismissed to finish writing down the last of your notes, while bucky had hung back because the teacher needed to talk to him about his grades. to bucky’s delight, the refreshingly disinterested girl who would’ve never given him a second glance without necessity was the tutor that your teacher had recommended.

call him a masochist, but he loved that you treated him with just as much disdain as you treated the rest of his friends. it was… an unpopular opinion. att least, his friends—consisting of three-quarters of alpha delta theta and a little less than half the school’s men’s lacrosse team—certainly thought so.

bucky shifted in his seat, sending another wave of his cologne your way. you tried not to show how much he was affecting you, but you broke immediately when the arm he’d been resting on the back of your chair had finally snaked itself over until his fingers had settled on your shoulders. he began massaging small, slow circles into your skin, and you thought you might melt and mold yourself into the chair.

“okay, i- i think this is pretty good.” you scooted your chair away from him just an inch with reluctance; he smelled wonderful and had a warm presence and was so, so lovely… however, you were here to help him with physics, not get seduced. (though you’d obviously prefer the latter.)

a momentary flash of disappointment—or was that hurt?—crossed his face before it settled into its usual expression; in other words, he was gorgeous and he knew it.

“it’s not pretty good,” bucky took the paper from your hands with his eyebrows pinched in concentration. your stomach sank. “it’s amazing, doll. how are you- fuck, why do are you so beautiful and so, so smart? you’re killing me, here.”

you begged to differ. you were the one on the verge of combustion.

you pursed your lips to hide the embarrassingly exposing beam that threatened to escape and reveal your hopeless affinity for a man who was obviously out of your league. you wanted to hate bucky, you really, really did, but it made sense why he was able to pull whichever strings he wanted to. he was charismatic, confident, and had a way of leaving people in a dreamy, delirious daze that made them vulnerable to whatever kind of intention bucky had. he’d passed numerous classes that he had decidedly failed, slept with too many people to count—his pool was endless; male and female both—and had somehow managed to talk himself out of a suspension after he’d managed to break a window. 

so was it wrong to be wary of his advances? as far as you knew, he was still “talking” to your roommate’s ex-boyfriend’s lab partner (though it seemed as if not many words were being exchanged in their ‘conversations’) and supposedly was hooking up with the quarterback. 

but those could be rumors, your inner naive schoolgirl with a crush said. rumors have an element of truth to them, your rational side said. you interact with less than half the number of people he’s friends with, your cynical side said, and he’s only talking to you so he can go back to his theta kappa beta alpha friends and make fun of you. 

“bucky, i appreciate the… compliments, i really do. and i mean this with, uh, kindness, but don’t you think it’s a little… immature? manipulative? i don’t know, i just-”

this time, the crestfallen look on bucky’s face lingered, and it was most definitely one of hurt. “manipulative? sweetheart, i’d never manipulate you into anything, oh god no! i don’t und-”

“well, you’re always making fun of me so you can get some reaction out of me, and i don’t understand the appeal of trying to- to fluster somebody for entertainment, and maybe it makes this whole ‘tutoring session’ more interesting for you, but damn it, that’s not fair to me!” you snapped, eyes narrowed with malice.

you expected bucky to reciprocate. to hiss at you, or deny it, or make some vaguely misogynistic comment, but he just sat there, like a kicked puppy that had also been caught in the rain. he licked his lips enticingly and his eyes flickered down to… your lips? was that it? 

the gall of him, to continue to mock you even after you’d confronted him.

bucky laughed bitterly, shaking his head. his knee was bouncing and it was giving you secondhand anxiety. “i can’t- ha, i can’t believe you’d think that’s what- have i not been obvious enough? i don’t understand why- why you don’t understand. i like you, a lot, actually. i have since the first week of physics when you told the professor he was wrong and then pulled out evidence. 

“why would you think that i’m…” he looked at you incredulously, “making fun of you? if anything, you’re the one who’s teasing me! i’ve been trying to, well, yeah, i’ve been trying to get a reaction out of you so i can see if you feel the same way!

“and you always seem to do this little routine, where i’ll try and ask you out or- or tell you that you look pretty, or ask you questions about yourself and you do this fucking scrunch,” he pointed to his face, “on your nose, and it kills me. and it kills me that you always scoff at me like i’m nothing but you’re like… the whole world, or something. you’re like, the bonnie to my clyde.”

you bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling, not wanting to spoil his rant. “bonnie and clyde were serial killers,” you whispered amusedly. bucky looked at you, took a mental note, and continued without correcting himself.

“you’re the… apple to my eye. the chicken to my egg. and the… alpha theta to my kappa beta. and i think you’re incredible, i really do, but you won’t even give me the time of day. so yeah, i don’t understand why you think i’m the one manipulating you.

“there’s obviously a social power dynamic here,” bucky added, waving his hands around like that would help make his point clearer. “you’re cool and smart and people love you, and i’m like, a piece of shit, kinda. so i guess it makes sense why you don’t like me.

 but that’s beside the point. you have the dominant position in this relationship because you’re the one tutoring me; therefore, my performance relies on your decisions. you wield the power of controlling my gpa or whatnot. and did i mention that you’re smart and pretty? so basically, you’re just better than me which means in society, aka the individual social bubble that is every academic institution, you have more, um, influence than i do. you’re like, the prefect, and i’m the dude you report for breaking curfew. or you’re like, the ta, and i’m the guy whose essay you rip apart.

‘cause you’re like, shit, you’re so wow. and i’m so, wow,” he said the second bit with exaggerated sarcasm and a dramatic eye roll. “and i learned about all this in women’s studies, so if you think i’m pulling this out of my ass, go talk to bell hooks and simone de beauvoir, alright? i’m not, like, trying to manipulate you into a date or anything—not that i’d complain about getting a date, or like, just a shot, and i mean shot as in chance, not as in alcohol—i just really like you. like, like-like you.”

bucky took a deep, shuddering breath after his profession of infatuation. you gaped, probably comparable to a fish, at the frat-adjacent, notorious fuckboy, and delectable specimen of a man in front of you who also took women’s studies and also seemed to genuinely want to take you out on a date—though you weren’t particularly sure about the second one since his explanation was very long and not very easy to follow—that you’d severely misjudged.

“i-” you sputtered, for once, out of wit. “that’s so… nice.” you fiddled with the paper that the two of you had been working on. you could hear the sound of bucky’s heart shattering from where you sat. 

you hung your head in your hands, bewildered. “okay, you said you didn’t understand what i said but now i’m not understanding what you said because you’re saying i’m all… admired and intellectual and alluring and, powerful, even, but i- i’m not. bucky, i’m literally sitting in the library tutoring you on a subject i suck at because i have no other weekend plans and because i’ve been bullshitting my way through this class and the professor just so happened to eat it up.

“i don’t know what i’m doing either, bucky. i’m not- i’m not as good as you think i am. i’m… if we’re going back to that stupid chicken-egg analogy, you’re like a crowing morning rooster and i’m an egg produced by a capitalist’s hellish factory farm that’s dropped on the ground and will probably grow mold before someone cleans it up.” you paused. “oh wow, that was a way worse metaphor than yours, wasn’t it?”

bucky shook his head, a brilliant, dopey smile slowly growing on his face. “no. no, that was… so beautiful. you’re so smart,” he insisted, and it seemed like he genuinely believed it. “you think you’re some- some rotten egg, but to me, you’re an eggs benedict that’s been approved by gordon ramsey. you keep saying all these self-deprecating things and y’know, my therapist says that’s really bad for your subconscious perception of yourself and your value, and i know i just said that you’re smart but you’re actually being so stupid right now. because i think you’re really awesome. so…”

bucky swung his legs under his seat, which was really awkward because his legs were already so long that his knees were brushing the top of the table, so it looked more like he was trying to kick the table apart.

“can i kiss you?” bucky breathed, eyes scanning your face with pure adoration.

“absolutely not,” you grimaced, planting your hand on his face and pushing it away. “don’t push it. but… how does dinner at 7 tonight sound? not the cafeteria shit, i’ll take you somewhere nice. and don’t get it twisted, i’m asking you out, okay?” 

bucky nodded eagerly, going from kicked, wet puppy to newly-adopted, instagram account worthy puppy. “i- wow, thank you! wow. i’m so- yes, i will be there. should i get flowers or are you going to do the flowers thing? because i really like you a lot and i don’t want to mess this up and-”

“i’ll do the flowers. and the picking you up. and if you’re a good boy, maybe you’ll get a kiss at the end of the night. does that sound okay?”

it sounded more than okay to bucky.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

bucky barnes masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: (comment to be added!)

@bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @im-a-slut-for-fluff

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #college bucky barnes #bucky barnes college au #bucky barnes university au #bucky barnes college athlete #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes cracfic

[1d10t1c-s1mp]

"Oh my dear..."

Pairing: Brian Thomas/Hoodie x Y/N

Pronouns: She/Her

Type: Angst

Romantic/Platonic: Romantic

TW: Yandere-ish themes, murder (obviously-), my AU on Hoodie, manipulation

Story/Hcs: Story

Inspiration: @groovy-goth-gators & a fan fic I read but don't remember who it belongs to

A/N: This might be bad. I am open for requests. Though I do have school so I might not get to it right away. If you like my writing, please consider following! It helps a lot.

There she sat, on the end of the shared couch between her and her boyfriend, Brian Thomas. She took in a deep breath before standing up and walking over to the dark oak door. She slowly and gently turned the shiny, cold, gold door handle. A wave of anxiety washed over her. Brian always told her not to leave their cabin without him. Here she was, not listening to him. She sucked in a sharp breath before walking into the woods that swallow her cabin. After a few minutes she reached a clearing. As she got closer, she saw a quite handsome man sitting in a green patch of grass. She started to take in his features. He had shoulder length chocolate brown hair that was messed up but looked good. He had light green eyes, a chiseled jawline, strong body type and a bright smile. He looked around 23-24. She decided to walk closer and sit next to him. He turned his body to face her and gave her a bright smile. She smiled back before starting up a conversation. "I'm Y/N!" She told him brightly. 

"Matthew, nice to meet you Y/N!" He replied. Before she knew it, afternoon turned into evening. Her and Matthew got along really well. They exchanged numbers before heading their separate ways. She walked to her cabin with a small smile on her face. Once she got there, she carefully opened the door and slipped in. She closed the door behind her and sank into it. She let out a breath of relief and closed her eyes for a second. Once she opened here eyes and the first thing she saw was a very familiar pair of boots. The moment her eyes landed on the boots she began to drown in fear. She slowly lifted her head to look at the masked man in front of her.

"You disobeyed me." He said simply. She gulped knowing she isn't going to be let off the hook. He grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her into their bedroom. "Get changed. I think you know what we are doing." He said before leaving the room. After she changed, she walked up to Hoodie. He took her by her hand and walked out the front door, closing it behind them. The walk was silent, except for the nature noises from everywhere. They walked into the city, not to long after that they came up to an apartment complex. The walked into it for a bit until they came up to the fourth building. Each building had three stories. They walked up two flights of stairs, so they were on the second floor. They walked up to a door. The number on the door was 218. As Hoodie picked the lock on the door, Y/N felt a sickening feeling in her stomach. She tried her best to ignore it. Once Hoodie crept in, she hesitantly followed him in. She closed the door behind her and as she walked into the living room she saw her newly made friend tied to a chair. Matthew looked at her with a pleading look.

"I'm so sorry Matthew..." She managed to choke out. Hoodie lifted his gun from it's holder and brushed it up the side of Matthew's wavy locks. Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. Hoodie was going to brutally murder this poor man and he was going to make her watch.

~Time Skip because I don't feel like writing this part~

Matthew's dead, cold, forever staring eyes looked up at Y/N. She tried holding back her tears but couldn't. Hoodie put his gun back in it's holster and looked over at Y/N. He walked over and hugged her tightly. "Don't worry baby," he cooed at her. "I'm just showing you what could happen if you go out without me, you could get hurt." He whispered to her. She hugged back and cried into his chest. "I'm also showing you what happens when you are with other guys. "Have you learned you lesson, love?" He asked in a hushed tone. She nodded and he picked her up bridal style. Hoodie walked home with her in his arms. Once they were home he laid her on the bed and got changed for bed. Y/N didn't even bother changing. She got under the blankets and waited for Brian to come lay next to her.

A/N: I rushed the end sorry! I HAD WRITERS BLOCK WHILE TRYING TO WRITE THIS- Please shoot me a request for who y'all want next :]

#crp #creepypasta au #creepypasta x you #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #hoodie x y/n #hoodie mh #hoodie x reader #hoodie x you #hoodie marble hornets #marble hornets

[captain-mj]

I'm sure there are other mages at Soaps school who are attemting to summon demons...

What about MageProffesor!Price not wanting to be outdone by his student end up summoning his own bratty little LustDemon!Graves

or

Mage!Graves feeling inferior to his classmate, ends up getting way over his head by accidnetly summoning *the* Lust demon lord; Price

My wife @lanaartsiebby had an idea for this, so I hope you don't mind! Same vein of course

~~~~

Price graded papers in his office, completely calm. He had recently put up new wards, trying to get rid of the two demons Soap insisted he had nothing to do with.

Did he really think he was that dense? Obviously he summoned them. No one else was stupid enough to try and talented enough to pull it off.

Someone knocked and he just waved to open the door. He didn't bother looking up.

"Sir? Are you busy?" Must be one of the new students, because he didn't recognize them by voice.

"What do you need?" Price continued writing. He noticed briefly that the room felt colder.

"Just wanted to talk to you." They sat on his desk and he quickly looked up.

Graves had bat like wings and a forked tail, looking more like a demon costume than a demon. He wore thighs and lingerie and was currently kicking his feet while he sat on Price's desk. There was a shimmer around him that made the world around him fuzzy around the edges.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Price pretended to be unaffected, even if Graves looked exactly like his type.

"Oh, ya know. I was bored. Wanted to see if there was anything I could do to increase my grade?" His tail flicked and he looked down at him.

"Why are you actually here?" Price crossed his arms and kept his eyes on his face.

Graves pouted before sliding over so he was sitting directly in front of him. "Your wards. Demons take notice of those."

"Did Soap ask you to do this?" It didn't seem like something he'd do, but the kid could be rash sometimes.

"No. Roach did." Graves smiled, leaning forward. Price leaned back against his chair to try to keep some distance. He smelled like spices. Specifically cinnamon. "Asked me to try to convince you not to kick them out. I feel like they've helped him out. He's a quick learner."

"He's still a student."

"College student. Consider it extracurricular." Graves smiled. He had fangs and they pressed against his lip when he smiled. "Shouldn't you want that?"

Price shook his head. He could say the spell and get rid of him, but he was rather tempting.

"You really should get rid of the wards. I can't stay here if you keep them up."

"And why would I want you to stay here?" Price purred and tilted his head, watching Graves copy the motion. "What do you look like under all that glamour, hmm? A mass of shadows? Swarm of bugs?"

"A pool of water." Graves smiled. "A reflection of what you want. Now, do you want me? I could bend over your desk, or sit in your lap, or just sink straight to me knees." He seemed excitedly at the thought and Price tried very hard to keep control of himself. And then Graves slid into his lap, ass against the tent in his pants. Then his hands were on him, sliding down Price's chest.

"Let me take care of you. Any way you want." Graves grinded down, looking at him pleadingly.

Price tilted his head back to look at him better. Graves had such pretty blue eyes.

"Stay in my lap."

"Yes, professor." Graves purred and unzipped Price's pants, being gentle now which was funny. Price shoved his pants down some and pulled Graves closer, kissing his chest. Graves sank down with a hiss and stiffened. He was so tight and it felt like he had prepped already.

"Alright, demon?" Price glared down at him.

"You're a bit bigger than I expected." Graves blushed and it seemed... oddly genuine.

"You're not very experienced at this whole tempting thing are you?" He thrust up, smirking when Graves grabbed his shoulder.

"Managed to get you, didn't I?"

"Aye, suppose you did. Now, what are you going to do?" Price smiled at him.

Graves moved slowly, wings spreading. He leaned in and tried to kiss him, but Price put a hand up to stop him. "No venom."

"You're no fun." Graves pouted but did as told, kissing him softly. He continued to roll his hips and try to please Price. It was cute. Price wondered if it was an act, try to appeal to his ego. He grabbed him by his waist and moved Graves himself.

“You’re going too slow.” Price forced Graves further on his cock, watching his wings flare out as he moaned. He shook his head. “Some demon you are.” 

Graves glared at him and ground his hips down, forcing a moan out of Price. He started to bounce faster and moved his hands to Price’s shoulders to get more control.

They both fought for control, Price refusing to give it, regardless of how nice it felt. Graves kept trying to take it, both of them getting desperate. He yanked his wings, getting a wail and a desperate twitch of his hips. 

“Not so rough. They’re delicate, asshole.” Graves hissed and Price decided he had enough. He stood up, holding Graves to his chest and dropped him on his desk. He saw the demon flush before grinning, spreading his legs open wider. Price put his hand around his throat and fucked him hard. Graves teared up and moaned, head thrown back. He started to scratch down Price’s arm, leaving long scratches that would take forever to heal. 

Price slapped him and grabbed his face hard. “Listen up, whore. You’re going to tell your friends I am not so easily swayed, okay?”

Graves whimpered and nodded but pulled him closer. “Finish first though, yes? Don’t want you to stop.” He wrapped his legs around him to keep Price there. “Please?” 

Fuck, he sounded so desperate. Price squeezed the hand around his throat and fucked him harder, watching Graves get more and more flustered as he got close. He reached down and stroked him slowly. Graves whimpered and clenched around him. He batted his eyelashes at him and Price stroked him faster. 

Graves came, clenching hard around him. A few strokes later and Price was following, face planting into his shoulder. 

“Think I could come visit again?”

“Begone, foul demon.”

“Oh, come on. You liked it.” Graves ran his fingers down Price’s back, wishing he had gotten more of his clothes off of him.

Price sighed heavily. “Winter break is next week. We can discuss this some more off campus.”

Graves beamed. “Good. Good. See you then.” He disappeared from underneath him like he had never been there. 

Price cleaned up and sighed. “That is going to be a problem.”

#cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #Phillip graves #John Price #Captain John Price #Price x Graves #Graves x Price

[tealeafgrimm]

There For You

Remus Lupin x Reader

Words: 972

Summary: Remus is not good at asking for help. He doesn't want to be a burden. But after the full moon, he needs you. And there's not a single reason why you wouldn't help him.

You turn around and look at the grandfather clock in your living room. He should have been here by now, he never took this long to come back after the full moon. Nervously, you paced around the entryway of your house. Should you go out and see if he was badly hurt, should you ask someone to help you look for him? Your train of thought was interrupted when you heard branches and leaves moving at the edge of the nearby forest. And not a second later, you could see his face.

"Remus," you whispered, both frightened and relieved at the same time. He looked terrible. You couldn't remember the last time he had looked this bad.

His clothes, which he had worn the night before, were torn in several places and you could see the blood soaking the fabric. He was barely able to hold himself upright and walk. No wonder it had taken him so long to find his way home.

With quick steps you ran towards him and no sooner had you put his arm around your shoulder than he dropped his weight on you. Although it was only a few meters, it took you ages to get Remus into the house.

"I've already prepared the bath, okay?" you whispered as you walked down the small hallway towards the bathroom. Remus didn't answer you, too tired and exhausted to say anything back.

"Here, sit down. I'll help you take off your clothes." Carefully you helped Remus sit down on the lid of the toilet, a hiss escaping him, obviously the slightest movement hurt him. As carefully as you could, trying to cause the least contact with his wounds, you helped him remove his clothes.

It felt like it took hours, but after a while Remus sank into the warm water of the bathtub.

When the warm water touched his body, he let out an agonized cry. You couldn't imagine how painful it must be. You could only guess how bad his wounds were, but now that he had nothing on, you could clearly see the damage he had sustained last night. It seemed as if he had scratched up almost his entire back and his chest was also adorned with dark welts.

"Do you think I can leave you alone for a moment?" you asked him softly, stroking his hair. A faint nod was the only response.

"I'll get you some potions for the pain and some healing and wound ointment, okay?" You didn't wait to see if he had heard you, but left the bathroom. As quickly as you could, you gathered the potion and ointment and returned to the bathroom.

The water Remus sat in was now a dirty light brown. His blood and the dirt of the night had discolored it. With a wave of your wand, you made the dirty water disappear and refilled it with new, clean water. You handed him the small vial of pain-relieving potion and began to clean his wounds with a washcloth.

When you had helped him out of the bath and into his boxers, you began dabbing the ointment and tincture onto his open wounds. Again and again Remus hissed, winced and tried to back away from your touch.

"That's it. We're done," you said after a few minutes. The first wounds were already beginning to close. In a few hours, the worst would already be over.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see something like this every month. Let alone take care of me," Remus spoke softly as you walked into your bedroom together.

"I tell you every time Remus. I don't help you because I have to, I help you because I want to. Because I love you."

With a sigh, he settled down on the bed. A little rest and a few hours of sleep would help him and when he would wake up he would be feeling better.

"You deserve so much better. I'm not worth it..."

"Stop saying things like that about yourself or I'll hex your tongue to the roof of your mouth. I LOVE you. Is that so hard to understand?"

"Sometimes," he admitted, but you could see the beginnings of a smile.

"How many times have you helped me? When I got hit by a stray jinx at school because someone didn't aim right? You were always the first to undo everything. Or who takes care of me when I'm on my period? You. You go and make me tea, bring me chocolate. Who takes care of me when I'm overwhelmed, when I cry, when I'm angry, frustrated, when I just need someone by my side? Remus, you're always there for me."

"I think it is. You don't ask for help any more than I do. You didn't choose your situation, any more than I do when I'm sad or angry. And I help you in your situation for the same reason you help me. Because we love each other."

Remus was ready to launch into a retort again, but you raised your hand and gave him a dirty look.

"I don't want to discuss this any further with you right now. You need rest."

Without paying any further attention to him, you grabbed his book from the nightstand and lay down next to him. Even though he never asked you to, you knew he liked it when you read to him after a night like the last.

You opened the marked page and began to read. Within minutes, you felt Remus' breathing relax and become more even.

There would never be a reason for you not to help him, even though he would argue with you again and again. But your answer would always be the same. If you really love one another, you are there them.

Werewolf or not.

#remus x you #remus lupin fanfiction #reader insert #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fluff #remus x y/n #one shot #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter series #harry potter #remus fluff

[nightingaelic]

If requests are still being accepted, would it be alright if you did a fnv react ask about the courier being nonbinary? I'd imagine it might be similar to the transgender reactions u did, however at the same time I've been trying to imagine how a person of that gender identity would be seen in the wasteland since a LOT of old war stuff was gendered and all, and I've got nothing :/ (sorry for the mini tangent it's just stuff like that intrigues me lol)

New Vegas and its surrounding communities couldn't get enough of the courier once they pieced together that the person who had saved Goodsprings and Primm, laid eyes on the smoking ruins of Nipton, and eventually made their way inside the mysterious Lucky 38 was, in fact, one person and not a handful of random individuals. As with anyone who set the dust of the wasteland swirling, their name popped up regularly in Mr. New Vegas' news reports, which earned them fans, would-be challengers, and curious eyes whenever they left House's casino with their face uncovered.

There were endless questions about their whereabouts and plans, of course - but there were also questions about who they were, where they had come from, and why they were so different from anyone who had earned a name on the Strip up to that point. They were an outsider in dress and mannerisms as much as they were in name and title, content to let the tall tales around them grow tall and wild as the trees in the mountains rather than give so much as a solid hint about their identity. Mr. New Vegas only fed the public's fascination by reporting on them as if they were a new, strange celebrity each time they made the headlines. Spotted trying on dresses at the same tailor's shop that the King visited regularly. Seen two days later dodging mortars in their usual duster and bandanna on a suicide mission to Nellis. Cool and calm the next week at Gomorrah, cutting as fine a figure in a suit as any of the Omertas. They waved off anyone who tried to chat them up about anything beyond business, and they flat-out refused to answer to anything but their own name or Mojave Express designation.

And all this interest in the courier and their refusal to clear up the mysteries surrounding them inevitably landed at the feet of their companions, for better or worse.

Arcade Israel Gannon: Arcade could deflect most of the courier's admirers the same way he'd deflected attention for years: By downplaying his own importance and turning up his pride in his work just far enough to scare off anyone who wasn't looking to talk about medical supply issues in Freeside. It usually did the trick, but as the situation at Hoover Dam grew more concerning, the visitors to his tent at the Old Mormon Fort became increasingly stubborn. It got to the point where Beatrix had to kick a few out every day, and Julie finally pulled Arcade aside and asked him if he could get his famous friend to do something about it.

"I don't know," he said to the courier later in the Lucky 38 suites, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Maybe do an interview with Radio New Vegas? Nothing you don't want to share, obviously, but you could tell the listeners enough basic info to get them off my back."

"Like what?" the courier asked, smirking. They clearly weren't taking this too seriously.

"I don't know." Arcade threw his hands up. "Where you grew up. How you became a courier. How you're not a man or a woman, and stop asking. Just give them something, or sooner or later one of them is going to start poking around in my past, and that... that can't happen."

The smirk turned into a grin. "You never asked me whether I was a-."

"I never needed to!" Arcade groaned and sank into a nearby chair, putting his head in his hands. "I didn't care. I only needed to know the important stuff, like where you'd just been shot. And whether you meant to kill me. Your goddamned pronouns never mattered."

"Hey." The courier crouched down in front of him and pried his hands away from his face. "I didn't mean to cause you trouble. I'm sorry."

Arcade eyed them defiantly. "Then prove it."

A few days later, while Arcade was helping to administer vaccines around the fort, Beatrix flagged him down and turned up the little radio that kept her company on guard duty. Mr. New Vegas was airing an interview he'd conducted recently with the Mojave's most wanted, full of juicy gossip that had nothing to do with the Followers of the Apocalypse and was sure to keep the desert abuzz for days. Beatrix kept glancing over at Arcade, raising her eyebrows every now and then. When the radio cut to commercial, she turned it down again and cleared her throat. "I know a few ghouls who went that route. Cast their old names and looks off and made new ones for themselves. I've thought about it myself, once or twice."

Arcade smiled and straightened his lab coat out. "Maybe you and Six can compare notes, next time they visit. I need to get back to work."

Craig Boone: After his time with the First Recon, Boone was used to keeping his mouth shut about his movements, his missions, and his teammates. The courier had their reasons for keeping some things to themselves, and the sniper was more than happy to silently stare any inquirers down until they beat a hasty retreat.

The courier did notice his refusal to acknowledge these questions though, and eventually they asked him whether he was curious himself. "You'd think I could land a steady relationship, with how many people are interested in what I've got below my ammo belts," they joked as they made their way down Highway 95. "You're one of the unconcerned few."

"Not my business," Boone grunted. "You're you. End of story."

The courier sighed. "I wish everyone saw it that way. It's honestly a wonder that you do."

They walked on in silence for a bit. Boone thought it over. He'd served with men and women as a sniper, ranging in personality, expression, and preference. The NCR drew from every corner of its territory to recruit for military operations, and not everyone within that territory had the same ideas about what it meant to be feminine, masculine, or what-have-you. The one thing that had united them was their mission, and how that mission's importance trumped everything, everything else. He'd seen it in Manny and how it had smoothed out the edges of a Great Khan upbringing, he'd seen it in Sterling's unwillingness to give up on his years of service despite horrific injuries from the Legion, he'd seen it in Betsy and how it became the life raft she clung to after enduring the worst the Mojave's raiders had to offer.

And he'd seen it in himself. In the weight he'd placed on the things he'd done, the relationships he'd maintained even after leaving the NCR, the sacrifices he hadn't realized he'd made until it was too late. In the dreams that wouldn't leave him alone. The mission was an anchor dragging him and his fellow soldiers down, but it was also their saving grace. It had to be.

"Hey." The courier nudged him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Boone said, like he always did.

Lily Bowen: Lily always proudly answered the admirers' inquiries about her grandchild, switching between details about Jimmy and Becky depending on what they asked. The courier seemed amused by this, and their fans always went away with confused expressions, but Lily was still flattered that they were so fond of her grandchild that they would ask an old woman some questions. "You're getting so popular," she would tell the courier afterward. "You'll be on the cover of magazines, soon."

The courier usually smiled at this, but in a way that suggested they weren't so sure. "If anyone wrote an article about me, it would only make people angry," they said one day. "I'm not who they want me to be. I'm not some pin-up heartthrob on a billboard or a ranger with a jawline like Mount Charleston's ridges and a voice like Elvis. I'm just a courier who doesn't fit the usual definitions."

"Now, now," Lily chided. "Things are different from when Grandma was growing up. Different can be good. Different can be open doors, new names, fresh starts."

"Different can also be threatening," the courier pointed out. "Scary enough to stamp out. Just look at how the Legion and NCR talk about each other. Hell, how they talk about me. To the NCR, I'm too different to relate to, and possibly a spy because I change myself like someone who wants something or who's got something to hide. To the Legion, I'm an abomination as bad as ghouls and super mutants, unless I settle down into being a soldier or a slave."

"Not in front of Grandma, they don't talk like that," Lily grumbled protectively. "Or they'll have words with Leo."

"Leo can't save me from public opinion, Lily."

"You listen." Lily placed her large hands on the courier's shoulders. "Do you want to be what people want you to be? Or do you want to be yourself?"

"It's not that easy."

"Life is not easy."

The courier sighed and placed their hands over Lily's. "Myself. Of course."

Lily squeezed their shoulders affectionately before releasing them. "Then be yourself. Let them gossip. Grandma is in your corner."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: True to his introverted self, whenever the crowds came his way, Raul fled the scene. The courier could handle themselves, and he had never liked being the center of attention. Or at least not since the Great War.

The courier always found him later, whether he was in his suite at the Lucky 38 or some abandoned garage on the outskirts of Freeside, under a car that was never going to run again. They never asked him what he thought of it all, but they brought him Sunset Sarsaparilla and maize from a local food stand, let him prop his feet up while they told him the latest gossip from the Strip. Raul got the sense that they worried that one of these times, he would just disappear.

He wouldn't admit it to them, but he had thought about it. Aside from the constant scrutiny and badgering, the courier that had freed him from Black Mountain had brought him far closer to the black hole at the Mojave's center than he had ever wanted to go. If he went much further, he knew he wouldn't be leaving on his own terms.

But on one of these occasions after the courier had tracked him down again, Raul realized the error of his own distance. The courier was in the middle of a story about a robot they'd dug out of storage for the Atomic Wrangler when they stopped short. "Are you ashamed of me, Raul?" they asked.

Raul choked on his sarsaparilla. After a mild coughing fit, he croaked out, "What did I say to make you think that?"

"When people want to know why I dress how I want to, when I say I'm not a man or a woman, you run. You always run."

"Mi-" Raul stumbled, coughed again. He thumped his chest a bit, then shook his head. "Mije, I didn't mean- you always seemed- no estoy-"

"Mije," the courier repeated, their eyes filling with tears. "You can say it now, but not out there."

"I didn't think... that you wanted an old ghoul defending you," Raul managed. "Por Dios, you know how I am with crowds, Six. You've never needed me to back you up, you're always saying-"

The courier hit his chest with a thump, wrapping him in a hug. Their tears faded into the worn fabric of his mechanic's overalls. "I don't need you there all the time, viejo. Just some of the time. It... it would mean a lot, to me."

Raul gathered them in further and cradled their head. He cursed his misinterpretation and tried to convey through his embrace that he wasn't going anywhere. "A huevo, mije. Next time they bother you, I'll tell them to find something else in Vegas to stare at."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass, for her part, was more than happy to dish out even more outlandish stories than the ones that made it to the radio, and even happier to scold anyone who referred to the courier as "he" or "she." The courier caught her at the tail end of one such encounter in the Tops, flipping off the gaggle of Chairmen that had dared to ask whether "House's bird was free to fly this evening."

"Here's your fucking bird!" Cass yelled after them, drawing the attention of most of the craps tables.

"Easy, Cass," the courier said, waving off one of the dealers who looked particularly annoyed with the caravan driver's outburst. "I don't think House taught them many gender-neutral 1950s slang words."

"Then they can damn well make some up!"

That brought a laugh. "You make some up, and I'll teach it to them," the courier suggested. "God knows I'll need to spend some more time here if I want them to play nice with the rest of the Strip. They're still pretty sore about that whole situation with Benny. Get you a drink?"

Cass gladly accepted the offer, and once she had her whiskey in hand she took a generous swallow. "Probably was easier, when you were just a courier," she guessed. "Fewer people gave a shit what you wanted to go by."

"Definitely," the courier agreed, settling onto a bar stool. "They just took their packages, chucked some caps at me, and gave me an odd look if that came up at all. Good times."

They lifted their own drink and studied the contents. "Now, I'm not sure Vegas will ever stop talking about it. You'd think the rest of my accomplishments would overshadow my nonbinary-ness, but nope."

Cass smiled. "New Vegas will get used to it. They got used to House, they got used to the NCR, and you can be damn sure they'll get used to you. The Mojave just needs something new to talk about."

The courier raised their glass and clinked it against hers. "Then let's give them something."

Veronica Santangelo: After the cold shoulder of many of her Brotherhood peers, Veronica found the interest in her and the courier entertaining at first. It was fun to talk in circles about identity and presentation, to try to trip the rude ones up about the way they thought people "ought to dress" by pulling at her Scribe robes and daring them to pick the outfit apart. Eventually, though, the questioning got old, and Veronica and the courier would reminisce about the days when no one on the streets would give them a second glance.

"It's ten times worse for you," Veronica admitted, staring up at the ceiling from the Lucky 38 casino floor one day while the courier aimlessly pushed balls around a pool table. "They look at you, and suddenly you're a challenge to their entire being. All they see when they look at me is someone who needs a new wardrobe and a reality check about the Brotherhood of Steel."

"As if you haven't already had that, several times over," the courier remarked, sinking a ball into one of the corner pockets. "You're right, though. People who ask me about it often have this... venom hiding behind their words."

"Ugh." Veronica shook her head. "Gross. Imagine being so self-absorbed, you think the rest of the world should conform to you."

The two chuckled, and Veronica raised a hand to her mouth. "Whoops. Do you think House heard me?"

"God, I hope so."

"I wonder what his views on gender are."

"Archaic," the courier guessed. "Or completely absent. He probably thought that sort of thing was a waste of time."

"Shame." Veronica tucked her arms behind her head. "I suppose it's not important enough to open his life support pod and ask, either."

"Nah, not really."

ED-E: The courier's eyebot was used to being overlooked - just another bot following pre-programmed routines - but lately, it had been an occasional target for those trying to get a closer look at the Mojave's latest celebrity. It had been fed no less than four holotapes that were meant to install surveillance tech, and one enterprising young man had tried to download the eyebot's data logs using ancient RobCo credentials from one of the Lucky 38's destroyed securitrons. ED-E was more than happy to give would-be hackers a zap from its lowest laser setting and its security protocols were advanced enough to stop the rest, but the little bot's threatened safety in public concerned the courier to no end.

"All this over basically nothing," they complained as they added a few homemade security measures to the eyebot's chassis. "I'm not hiding anything about myself, not really. Everyone who matters has put two and two together, but noooo, let's keep badgering Six's bot in case it's got all their secrets on file. What, do they think I uploaded my birth certificate to you?"

ED-E beeped its agreement, then shivered a little as they closed up its paneling. It shook itself thoroughly and rose into the air, then activated the brand-new shock system that was meant to deter wandering hands.

"There," the courier pronounced, satisfied. "We'll just have to test it out with someone who's willing to get about 4,000 volts to the fingers. Think Cass is up for it?"

Rex: If the questioners started getting a little too close, a little too demanding, Rex's hackles went up and he would wedge himself between the courier and the offending parties. If that wasn't enough, a growl and a snap or two of the jaws usually chased them off.

"I can take care of myself," the courier scolded the cyberdog half-heartedly, scratching Rex behind the ears. "I can pick the dangerous ones out, too. I've made it this far."

Rex licked their hands reassuringly all the same. He didn't know what all the fuss was about, but he did know that as long as his companion was safe, he was happy.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #companions react #nonbinary #12 days of ficmas

[queenimmadolla]

heather holloway, comfort, cookies

i have been rolling around on my bed and kicking my feet because of this, thank you for the heather request!

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

You were sprawled on your bed, watching the blades of your ceiling fan slowly rotate as you sank into despair.

  This past Spring, you and your girlfriend had decided when school was out for the year and summer came about, you’d both get jobs at the same place to ensure you wouldn’t grow apart. It was a fear you’d entertained after seeing all the couples who’d start the summer off together and return to school in the fall apart.

  That’s not what you wanted for your relationship with Heather, but the two of you needed money to fund your dates and savings, so capitalism won the battle.

  The two of you had decided on the community pool, they were in desperate need of lifeguards, though apparently there had been a lot of applicants. Heather had been selected, but when you got the phone call, you’d been informed they went with someone else.

  So now that you couldn’t be a lifeguard at a community pool where a diarrhea warning sign had to be posted, quite obviously your world was ending.

  You’d phoned Heather to tell her the bad news and tried not to seem too upset because you knew she’d come over to check on you. Kept it short and simple, and had been in bed ever since.

  You’d have to find another job.

  You’d have to find another job and pray the hours matched up with Heather’s or that neither of you would be too busy to make time for each—

  Knock, knock.

  You pushed yourself up on your arms, confusion crossing your features until you heard the sound again. 

  It was coming from behind your closed curtains, the window.

  You scooted out of bed and towards your window, parting the curtains to reveal your girlfriend’s beaming face.

  Heather grinned, large doe eyes filled with glee at the sight of you as she waved before gesturing to the latch on your window.

  Hastily, you unlocked it and yanked it open, “Heather, what the hell are you doing scaling my roof? I have a front door, you’re gonna get hurt!”

  Heather shrugged, tossing her curled hair over her shoulder, before climbing in, your hands hovering over her just in case you had to save her life should she lose her balance.

  “Munson brags about doing stuff like this for his girlfriend all the time, it’s romantic! If some boy can do it, so can I.”

  You’d never understand their rivalry. 

  “I’d rather you didn’t risk your life.” You commented, shutting the window to keep the cool air in before turning to find her bouncing on your bed.

  “It's worth it for you. I know you’re bummed—don’t you dare lie to me—and I couldn’t just sit around. So, I made you these.”

  She pulled a clear ziploc bag from behind her back, one you hadn’t noticed before, filled with cookies.

  “You know you want to…” She goaded, shaking the bag until you came over like some damn cat, practically curling up to her as the two of you let yourself fall back onto the cushion of your pillows. Your head was resting in the crook of her neck, nose nudging against her collarbone as she pulled a cookie from the bag, holding it to your lips.

  You took a bite and the subsequent crumbs rained down on her skin, causing her to flinch violently which sent the both of you into a fit of laughter.

  “That’s on me, I knew it was going to happen and I still tried to be cute.” She chortled, trying to brush the crumbs off of her neck without elbowing you in the face.

  You hummed once your giggling had subsided, going quiet as you basked in her comforting presence. Heather angled her head, cheek resting over the top of your head.

  “Hey—you know this doesn’t change anything with us, right? I know we’ll both have separate schedules to follow and different places to be, but we’ll make time for each other. You can come to the pool during my shifts in one of your cute swimsuits and I’ll try to keep watch instead of just staring at you all the time. And if you need mouth to mouth, literally anytime, I’ll be there. After  work, I can bike over with some clothes, shower here and we can spend time together. We can do this.”

  “We can do this,” you agreed, nuzzling your face further into her neck as she tried not to squirm at the tickling sensation. Her perfume was addicting, and you were sure she layered it on because she knew how much you liked it.

  “That’s my girl. Have you applied anywhere else yet?” Heather asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as she munched on a cookie.

  “Yeah. The movie theater.”

  “Starcourt?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Heather shuffled around until she was face to face with you, the two of you nose to nose.

  “That’s not so bad! We can get a ton of movie dates in, too!”

  “I guess you’re right,” you mused and she closed the distance to press her soft lips to yours, the taste of her strawberry flavored lip gloss and the chocolate chip cookie she’d just eaten slipping into your mouth as one of her hands lifted to stroke along your jaw.

  She pulled away, for just a moment to whisper, “This is gonna be the best summer. You’ll see.”

#it was indeed not the best summer :( #vivi's baby blurbs #heather holloway #heather holloway x reader #heather holloway fluff #francesca reale #stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things fanfic

[flowerbarrel-art]

~ Alan Becker, AvA, AvM

~ Reconfigured Dark AU ~

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chosen felt a light tap on his shoulder, and gazed around the dark room. At first he didn’t see anything, but then he saw a flicker of yellow above him.

Fear suddenly burned in the pit of his stomach, and he froze for a moment, staring at the yellow-eyed figure standing over him.

Chosen took a deep breath and lunged up, shoving the figure away before darting towards the door.

Before he could grab the doorknob, he was suddenly frozen, and when he tried to yell, nothing came out.

“Chosen, it’s me! Vic!”

Chosen slumped to the ground, suddenly able to move again.

“Vic?” he gasped, staring up to see a gray Stick looking anxiously down at him.

“Yeah, it’s me…” Vic sighed, smiling awkwardly. “I’m sorry. You looked like you were having a bad dream. I just wanted to check on you but obviously you’re a light sleeper.”

Chosen shakily got up and shook his head.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Almost seven in the morning,” Vic said, then pointed at the bedside table, where a bottle of water and a bowl of mushroom stew were sitting. “Yellow left you dinner last night and luckily didn’t see me.”

Chosen stumbled over to his bed and sank onto it, trying to calm his breathing.

“I really am sorry. I know it’s weird.” Vic shrugged. “I don’t know why it works this way. But I’m glad you can see me sometimes.”

“I just thought you were whoever was in my room before,” Chosen sighed. “You know…I could tell them about you.” Vic clenched his fists and looked away. “Only if it’s okay with you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Vic sighed.

Footsteps thumped outside Chosen’s room, and suddenly he heard Dark crying.

“Better go get him,” Vic said. “I don’t think I’ll be visible for much longer, but I’ll still be around.”

“Thanks,” Chosen said. “Uh…sorry I freaked out.”

“It’s alright,” Vic said. “Get some breakfast as soon as you can, okay?”

Chosen picked up the bowl from the bedside table and quickly ate the stew, then drained the bottle of water.

“It was still hot,” Chosen remarked. “Interesting.”

“Guess it’s not programmed to go cold,” Vic chuckled.

“Yeah,” Chosen said, grinning a bit. He stood quickly and headed out the door to see Purple pacing in the living room with Dark in his arms.

Blue was sitting on the couch while Red frantically looked through Dark’s toy box.

“Did he just wake up?” Chosen asked. Purple, Red and Blue jumped.

“Sorry,” Chosen mumbled, approaching Purple.

“We don’t think he’s getting sick,” Blue said, “but he acts like something’s really bothering him.”

“How old is he?” Purple asked, passing Dark to Chosen.

“He’s about four months old,” Chosen said, cradling Dark and patting his back. Dark’s cries quieted to whimpers after a minute, and he clung tightly to Chosen.

“Could I check his mouth?” Purple asked, and Chosen gave him a puzzled look. “He could be teething.”

“Teething?” Chosen asked.

“His teeth could be coming in,” Purple clarified.

“But hasn’t he already been eating letters?” Chosen asked.

“A lot of babies do,” Purple said. “They usually just suck on them until they break down into data bits. So…can I check?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Chosen said.

Purple nodded, then pulled out an E and held it up.

“You hungry, Dark?” Purple asked. Dark glanced at him, then began following the letter as Purple waved it back and forth. “Ready?” Dark sniffled and nodded, reaching up for the letter. “Okay, open up, buddy!”

Dark hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth. Purple leaned down, quickly getting a closer look, then gave Dark the letter.

“Yeah, he’s got a couple teeth,” Purple announced, drawing back. “Another one’s coming in, I think. Probably why he’s so upset.”

“A couple?” Chosen asked, looking at Dark in surprise. “I…I didn’t notice at all. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, it does,” Purple said. “But he should be fine. Just make sure you let him chew on things. Teething rings mainly, just so you don’t have to keep replacing things you don’t want him to chew on. If it gets worse, maybe put a bit of healing potion on his gums.”

“He does like chewing on things,” Red said.

“I’ll make some potions later on,” Blue said. “I’m feeling a lot better anyway.”

Yellow and Green came downstairs just then, both rubbing their eyes.

“What’s going on?” Green asked drowsily.

“Dark’s just not feeling good,” Purple said. “His teeth are coming in.”

“Already?” Yellow asked in surprise. “He sure is growing fast.”

Dark reached out for Purple, who looked at Chosen.

“Could I give him some more letters?” Purple asked, and Chosen nodded, then sat down.

“Muh!” Dark exclaimed.

“I’m on it,” Purple laughed, holding out a letter that Dark snatched eagerly and began chewing on.

“How long does teething last?” Chosen asked, frowning.

“Depends on how long it takes for each tooth to come through,”Purple said. “The tooth coming in now could make him upset for a few days, and might make it hard for him to sleep.”

“Oh, good,” Green muttered, slumping.

“But teething rings will help,” Purple said. “It won’t be so bad as long as we help him out.”

He gave Dark another letter.

“I was pretty cranky when my teeth came in,” Purple said. “I didn’t get much sleep and neither did my parents.”

“I’ll look up some teething rings,” Yellow said, turning and heading back upstairs.

“Thanks!” Chosen called.

After Dark had eaten a handful of letters, he yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“I’ll see if I can get him to sleep,” Chosen said, quickly standing and heading to his room. “I’ll try the music too.”

Chosen set Dark in his crib, then went to the jukebox and turned it on. Dark pulled himself up and began shaking the bars, tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Chosen said, hurrying over and picking Dark up. “Just had to start the music.”

“Chosen?” Yellow asked.

“Yeah, come in,” Chosen said.

“Here, see if he wants this,” Yellow said, holding out a small round object. “It’s a pacifier.” Chosen took it and examined in, a bit confused. “It goes in his mouth.”

“Oh,” Chosen mumbled, offering the pacifier to Dark. “Wanna try it?” Dark stared at it for a moment, then grabbed and put it in his mouth. He began sucking on it, and closed his eyes a moment later.

“Great,” Yellow remarked. “That should help a lot. Even after his teeth are all in, he’ll probably still like it.”

“Thanks,” Chosen said, shaking his head. “That’s the fastest he’s ever calmed down.”

“Sorry I didn’t think of it sooner,” Yellow said sheepishly.

“That’s alright,” Chosen said. “We’re all still figuring this out.”

Chosen looked at Dark and heard his steady breathing.

“I think that did it,” Chosen whispered, slowly going back to the crib. He carefully leaned over and lowered Dark into the crib, waiting anxiously for a moment. “Wow…he didn’t wake up.”

Chosen pulled the yellow blanket over Dark and shook his head wonderingly.

“And now you can take a break,” Yellow said. “Bet you’re hungry.”

Chosen nodded, but didn’t move.

“He’ll be fine,” Yellow said, patting Chosen’s shoulder. “We’ll come check on him after breakfast, okay?”

“I’ll watch him, Chosen,” Vic said.

“Yeah…” Chosen sighed, giving a discreet nod of thanks in Vic’s direction before leaving and softly shutting the door. “Thanks, Yellow.”

Yellow nodded and strode to the kitchen, where Red was already organizing ingredients on the crafting table.

“Looks good, Red!” Yellow said with a grin.

“Thanks!” Red exclaimed, smiling back. “Could you take this to Blue, please?”

Yellow nodded and took the bowl to Blue.

“That looks great!” Blue said, taking the food. “Thanks, guys!”

“No problem! Hey, Chosen, what do you want to eat?”

“Um…anything’s good,” Chosen said, briefly glancing at Blue’s mushroom stew.

“How about another mushroom stew?” Blue asked. “Otherwise Chosen might steal mine.”

“Huh?” Chosen exclaimed, his face burning. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“I know,” Blue chuckled, “I’m just messing with you.”

Chosen laughed softly, then went into the kitchen.

“Need help?” he asked.

“Sure!” Red chimed. “You know how to make bread?” Chosen nodded, and Red put another crafting table down.

Chosen made a few loaves of bread, and when he looked up he saw Red’s crafting table piled with food.

“You’re fast!” Chosen remarked, impressed.

“You think so?” Red asked with a grin. “You can do it too. It just takes practice. Could you help me take some to everybody?”

Chosen nodded and took the food to Green and Yellow, who’d already taken spots on the couch.

“Thanks!” Green said, digging in eagerly.

“Smells great, Red!” Yellow said.

Second suddenly rushed downstairs and hurried into the living room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to oversleep!” he said. “Am I late?”

“Nope,” Red chimed, giving Second and Purple some stew and bread. “You’re just in time!”

Once everyone had found a spot, they began eating.

“Can we watch TV?” Green asked. “Or will it wake up Dark?”

“Nah, don’t think so,” Yellow said. “Just as long as it’s not blasting.”

Green nodded and turned the flatscreen on, going to YouTube.

“What do you usually watch?” Chosen asked.

“Animal videos, music videos, short animated films, stuff like that,” Second responded.

“Second loves the animation ones,” Blue said. “They inspire him to work hard when he and Alan animate.”

“And they’re just fun to watch,” Second laughed.

“Chosen,” Vic suddenly hissed, causing Chosen to jump. “Something’s wrong with Dark.”

Chosen jolted up, dropping his bowl to the floor.

“What’s wrong?!” Blue yelped.

“Dark!” Chosen exclaimed, bursting through his bedroom door and finding Dark with glowing tears streaming down his face. “What’s wrong?” Chosen gasped, scooping Dark up and hugging him close.

“Is he okay?” Red asked, touching Chosen’s shoulder.

“He’s burning up!” Chosen exclaimed frantically.

“Let’s go see Blue,” Red said, and Chosen grabbed Dark’s blanket, then quickly returned to the living room.

“Blue, Dark’s sick!” Chosen burst out. “Would a potion help?”

Blue frowned and put a hand on Dark’s forehead, then his cheeks.

“Yeah, he’s probably coming down with something,” Blue murmured. “Poor little guy.”

Yellow went into a kitchen cabinet, causing glass bottles to clink.

“Just give him a bit,” Blue said when Yellow brought a health potion over.

“Wh-what do you think it is?” Chosen asked quietly, lifting Dark’s head as Yellow carefully administered Dark a small amount of potion.

“He could just be sick,” Yellow said, corking the bottle, “but it could be because his teeth are coming in. I read that sometimes babies get fevers while teething.”

“What else should we do?” Chosen asked, slowly rocking Dark as he started to cry.

“Just give him small amounts of healing potion as he needs them,” Blue said. “And make sure he gets as much sleep as he can.”

“Ch-Choo…” Dark whimpered, curling into a ball and hugging Chosen tightly.

“I’m sorry, Dark,” Chosen said, taking Dark’s hand. “You’ll be okay.”

“The potion should start working soon,” Blue said. “Then hopefully he’ll be able to rest.”

“You wanna go back to bed?” Chosen asked softly, but Dark clung tighter. “Okay, don’t worry. We’ll just sit out here.” Chosen got back in his spot on the couch, then wrapped Dark snugly in his blanket.

“Let’s see if he likes the videos,” Second said, picking one of animated cats in a marching band. “Might distract him.”

The music began playing, and Dark glanced towards the screen, sniffling.

“He’ll be alright, Chosen,” Blue told him gently. “Take some deep breaths.”

Chosen suddenly realized he was shaking. He closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths.

“Chosen,” Blue said softly, nodding at Dark. “I think the potion’s helping.”

Chosen looked down to see Dark had stopped crying, and was smiling at the video.

“Yeah…s-sorry…” Chosen mumbled, leaning back.

“It’s okay,” Blue said. “It’s normal to be worried.”

“Babies kinda just get sick a lot,” Purple said. “I did. I was fine, though.”

“S-so…Dark will be okay?” Chosen asked, looking up at Purple.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Purple said with a soft smile. “But if it’d help you feel better, we could get him a checkup in StickCity.”

“We should probably do that anyway, actually,” Yellow sighed. “Wouldn’t hurt.”

“I…I…y-yeah…if it’d help,” Chosen mumbled. He looked down at Dark to see his eyes were drooping.

“Alright,” Yellow said. “I’ll look up a couple pediatricians and find a good one.” He glanced at Purple. “Do you know any?”

“Huh?” Purple asked. “Oh, right, sorry. Yeah, a couple. I’ll see if the one who was my doctor when I was a baby is still practicing.”

Chosen nodded once, then slowly got up.

“Chosen?” Blue asked softly. “I promise Dark will be okay.”

“I…I know,” Chosen said quietly. “But…could you check him again, please? Maybe he needs more potion?”

Blue put a hand lightly on Dark’s head, then his cheeks.

“He’s still a bit warm,” Blue said, giving Chosen the potion bottle. “If he starts to fuss again, give him a couple drops of healing potion, or come get one of us if you need help.”

“Thank you,” Chosen murmured gratefully, and walked to his room and set Dark gently down on his bed, then lay down and pulled the covers partially over Dark.

“Chosen?” Vic asked in concern. “You okay?”

Chosen nodded shakily.

“Thanks for letting me know he was sick,” he whispered.

“Yeah, don’t mention it…”

Dark whimpered in his sleep and shifted uneasily; Chosen cradled him closer.

“Shh,” Chosen shushed him. “I’m here. You’re alright.”

The jukebox suddenly began softly playing music.

“Thanks, Vic,” Chosen murmured gratefully, patting Dark’s head softly when he buried his face in the crook of his arm.

“Mmhmm,” Vic said quietly.

Dark jerked in his sleep, and Chosen began rubbing his back.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here. Don’t worry. Just get better.”

Dark relaxed after a few moments, and his breathing evened out.

“He…will get better…right?” Chosen whispered.

“Of course,” Vic said. “He just needs rest. And we’re here to make sure he’s okay.”

Chosen nodded faintly.

“Yeah…yeah…you’re right…”

With a heavy sigh, Chosen sat up.

“You’re doing fine,” Vic said, and Chosen groaned faintly.

“How do parents do this?” he asked. “Babies really just get sick a lot?”

“Yeah, but we’ve got potions for when he does,” Vic said. “Also, everybody in the family helps out.”

“But…none of us are related, really…” Chosen said.

Vic chuckled.

“Not by code, I guess, but we’re still like family. You and I are Dark’s parents and the others are his uncles.”

Chosen stared.

“…Technically his parents, anyway,” Vic chuckled awkwardly. “I uh…just realized how that sounded. Can you tell I don’t talk to people much?”

“Yeah, but I can’t exactly go throwing stones,” Chosen said, shrugging lightly. “After Dark and I left Alan’s old computer, we rarely talked to anybody. We didn’t want to.”

“…I got that impression when you said you didn’t want to go to StickCity.”

“That’s part of it,” Chosen mumbled. “Dark was all I had. I thought I didn’t need anybody else. But when I started to have second thoughts about raiding websites, I…I wanted to talk to someone else besides Dark.”

Chosen grit his teeth.

“But who would want to talk to me?” he went on quietly. “Sticks knew who we were and were on the lookout for us. Humans thought we were computer viruses. I can’t blame them.”

“…At least you changed your mind,” Vic said, and Chosen felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe, but I gave up on Dark too quickly,” Chosen growled softly. “I…I never tried to fix anything I did. Never tried to talk to him. Never tried to make it up to anybody I’d hurt. I just left without saying anything, thinking I could fix what I’d done by being alone. Then when I finally went to check on him and saw what he was planning…I still didn’t talk.”

Chosen lowered his head, guilt burning in his chest. He carefully picked Dark up, then laid him in his crib, tucking the yellow blanket around him.

“He was probably just as lonely as I was,” Chosen whispered, sinking onto his bed. “Maybe he even regretted everything we’d done. But I didn’t notice, and then it was too late…and now I’ll never know.”

They listened to the music playing softly for a bit.

“…that’s…another reason I brought you here,” Vic said finally. “I wanted to talk to Alan. I haven’t yet, obviously. I don’t know if I could, but I could’ve told them I was here by now and asked Second to tell him something.”

Chosen heard a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…entirely bring you here to help you.”

“But you still did!” Chosen said, clenching his fists. “You were right. I wouldn’t have made it much longer. What would’ve happened to Dark then?”

“I would’ve gotten help,” Vic said. “I wouldn’t have just left you both there. I was worried once that I’d always be stuck on Alan’s old computer, but when you and Dark escaped, I followed you…and I didn’t disappear.”

Chosen looked up quickly, his eyes wide.

“How long were you following us?” he asked.

“…the whole time.”

“You saw everything?” Chosen asked faintly.

“Yeah.”

“And you still…you think…” Chosen shook his head, fumbling for the words. “No. I can’t. I don’t…they’re….these Sticks are…”

“You need friends, and you have them now.”

Chosen closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head.

“Listen…it’ll just take time to get used to this, remember?” Vic asked softly, and Chosen felt a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll watch Dark, alright? If anything happens, I’ll come get you.”

“…thanks, Vic,” Chosen said quietly. “See you later.”

“See you. And I promise: Dark’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah…” Chosen said.

“Take care of yourself for now,” Vic said. “Dark’s got all of us to look after him.”

“…alright,” Chosen murmured. “Thanks, Vic…but what about you?”

“I’ll read some of your books,” Vic said. “It’s what I usually do.”

“Alright, then,” Chosen said, managing a little smile. “I’ll come check on you both soon.”

“Sure…that’d be nice.”

#Alan Becker #AvA #AvM #Sticks #Chosen #Dark #Victim #The Color Gang #AU #Baby Dark AU #FlowerBarrel art

[science-lings]

throws zelink and runs

Zelda had never heard link laugh out loud until she had made some terrible pun while explaining a book she had been reading.

Links smiling face mixed with giggles was enough to make her blush. She continued to observe her girlfriends beautiful face, a smile creeping through.

"What? Did I do something?" Link asked, wiping a tear out of her eye.

"Your laugh."

"Sorry, though it was your fault." Link mumbled, hiding her blushing face.

"Don't apologize, it's adorable! You should do it more often." Zelda said, grabbing links face.

She pulled her into a quick kiss before continuing her explanation

+++++

"Zelda what are you doing?" Link said, arms crossed as her girlfriend was hiding something behind her back.

It was morning and link was still in her pajamas, hair still a mess, and still tired.

"I made something for you... here, try it on." Zelda said handing a folded garment tied with a bow.

Reluctantly, link went up stairs and changed into her new outfit. A dress, it felt comfortable and flowy. She gave it a quick twirl and let out a small giggle.

Zelda then came up the stairs, "hold still, let me brush your hair out."

Link stood still as her girlfriend did combed effortlessly through the knots. Then all of the sudden, a cloth was wrapped around her face covering her eyes.

"Zel! What are you-" She was cut off by a kiss.

"Hold on, just let me grab you the mirror so you can see."

For what felt like hours in the dark, the blindfold was taken off and link let out a gasp.

She was wearing a sky blue, flower-embroidered dress. Her hair was left down and neatly combed through.

"I saw you didn't really have any 'girls clothes' so I thought I'd make you one.... do you like it?"

"I love it." Link said quietly to her self.

"What I didn't quite catch that."

Zelda was suddenly lifted up and spun around.

"I love it so so so much! Thank you thank you thank you!"

++++

Link had delivered the final blow and the yiga had retreated, dropping loot and a few bananas. Two traveling men had seen the fight and were relieved they didn't have to fight.

"Young lady, are you alright? That battle must have been very tough."

Link nodded, other than a gash on her left arm, she was relatively unscathed.

"Oh dear, you have hurt your arm! Let me see." One said.

Link pulled back, "I can take care of myself. I've delt with worse."

"Oh come on just let me see." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. "What's a pretty girl like you doing out in the woods anyway."

Link pushed him away, afraid of what he might do next. "Stay back."

"Oh I see, playing hard to get huh. Well two can play at that game."

With that he pushed her against a tree, the rough impact made link hit her head.

She remained conscious but fell to the ground.

"Dude. Quit it, you're scaring her." The other one said.

Link got up and punched the male in the face before running as fast as she could back to her house.

She slammed the door behind her and sank to the floor.

"Link is that you? Thank hylia, I was getting worried you- Link?"

Zelda rushed to where her girlfriend was, unsure about what was going on.

She saw the wounded arm and started to panic, "what happened, who did this to you, are you okay?"

Link nodded and tried to get up, a wave of dizziness hit her and she almost fell back down.

Zelda caught link mid fall and sat her back on the floor,"Ok, take it easy. You obviously hit your head. I'll ask questions later but let's get you patched up."

She helped link upstairs and waited until she was ready.

"¹Here, sit down and let me clean that arm." She grabbed a wet cloth and some bandages and carefully wrapped the wound shut.

"Now what happened. You don't normally get this way fighting the monsters on the way here."

"There was a yiga."

"Link, was there anyone else there. You can tell me."

Link shifted uncomfortably where she was sitting, "there were two travelers, men. One tried to..."

Link stopped herself, trying to disguise her feelings.

"Oh link, did they... touch you?"

Link nodded, curling into herself. "He pushed me and I hit my head and I- I'm sorry, this is stupid."

Zelda pulled her in close, "no, no this isn't stupid, its very serious. I'm sorry that happened. If I was there I would punch him in the face."

Link let out a small snicker, "I already did that."

"Atta girl, now come on, let's get you to bed."

Before link could protest, she was safely tucked into zeldas chest, the princess softly reading a book.

Link sighed and got comfortable before falling asleep.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE IT

I am kissing you on the mouth anon, you're making me want to write for them again lmao

#they're so... asdkdfldkhlkg i love themmmmb #you spoil me #I have other stuff I'm really wanting to write but I guess you guys can look forward to Zelink week because I WILL write them #ask andromeda #zelink #fem!link au #fem!zelink

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 1

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2264

Warnings: None

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: The Answer to Our Life

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

Juliette

The Backstreet Boys sang quietly from her CD player while Juliette studied for an upcoming biology test. Life sciences had never been her strong suit, but she'd be damned if she got anything other than an 'A' in the class. Juliette wanted to graduate with at least a 4.0 GPA and as valedictorian, and with her AP classes, it was entirely possible. Of course, if Juliette didn't get As in everything, that dream wouldn't happen. More than a few students were chasing the same goal as her, all equally as bright and talented. Juliette remained number one for now, but she couldn't allow herself to slip even once. There were no points for second place in her mind. 

Her buzzing cell phone broke Juliette's concentration. Irked, she glanced at the device to see who would be calling her at ten p.m. on a Thursday night. 'Bradley' flashed on the screen, and delight swiftly replaced Juliette's annoyance.

"Hey, you," Juliette answered cheerfully, keeping her voice down to avoid anyone overhearing her. "What's up?"

"Hey, yourself. Are you home?" Bradley asked, sounding equally as quiet as her, which was unlike him.

"It's a school night. What do you think?"

"Can I come up?"

Juliette bolted over to her window and opened it up. At the base of the giant oak tree, through the thick, leafless branches and the dim moonlight, she could just make out the silhouette of her friend peering around the trunk. Bradley gave her a small wave. She hung up and motioned for him to join her. With skilled precision from the numerous times he'd done this, Bradley swiftly climbed up the tree and into Juliette's room. Her heart sank at the sight of his bruised face and the numerous cuts on his arms.

"Sit down," she ordered, going to her dresser and pulling out her first aid kit. Bradley obediently sat in her window nook. He must've sensed her rising anger. Juliette took a seat next to him and demanded, "What happened?"

"I got in another fight," Bradley admitted, watching as Juliette opened the first aid kit and pulled out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and antiseptic cream. She gingerly began cleaning his wounds. "I was at the mall picking something up and ran into a group of hoodlums. They were taunting me and saying all sorts of rude shit, and I wasn't going to do anything until one of them tried to take my purchase from me. I could've just pushed him off and continued on my way. The guy was a twig, but I lost my head and punched him instead. His friends came to his defense. I don't know how long we were fighting before security came and broke us up. I did a bigger number on them than they did me, but obviously-" Bradley held out his scraped-up arms- "they got a few good licks on me."

"How did you get away without the police getting involved?"

Bradley shrugged. "I convinced security to let me go. I could tell by their reaction to the other kids that this wasn't the first time they'd caused problems. Security didn't know me, so I pretended they'd initiated everything, which is kind of true. I drove around to cool off before coming here."

"You should've come straight here or gone straight back to your house to take care of your injuries," Juliette chastised, glaring at him. "You're lucky the cuts are shallow and that those hoodlums hit with the strength of a ten-year-old. You'll have minimal bruising, but it's still going to show for a few days."

"I'm sorry, Jules," Bradley said softly, staring at her with his warm, chocolate eyes. Typically, the gaze would melt away her anger, but not tonight. Perhaps it was due to the stress of the test or her exhaustion of constantly having to patch him up or the never-ending worry that he'd get into a fight he couldn't handle, but Juliette had had enough of Bradley's recklessness.

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your mom, who keeps seeing you with new injuries every time you come home," Juliette replied sharply, snapping the first-aid kit shut. "You know she worries about you enough, and she's not the only one! You're being reckless, and when you get into the Navy, it's not going to fly. It's going to get you into trouble. I don't want your recklessness to damage your record or, worse, get you killed when you actually start flying planes."

Bradley shook his head. "I won't let it get to me up in the air."

"You don't know that. Stay here. I need to get an ice pack for that bruise." Not giving him time to say anything else, Juliette slipped out of her room, tiptoeing downstairs to the kitchen. Her parents were already asleep, but her dad was a light sleeper. As much as Iceman loved Bradley Bradshaw, Juliette had no doubt her dad would throw an absolute fit if he discovered Bradley in his daughter's room in the middle of the night, let alone on a school night. She'd already come up with a plan of what to say should she be caught in the kitchen, but Juliette prayed it didn't come to that. 

For better or worse, the number of times she'd snuck Bradley into her room when he needed medical attention had given Juliette a lot of practice of sneaking up and downstairs without waking anyone up. She managed to grab an icepack from the freezer and creep back to her room without so much as a creak from the stairs.

"You know, if you became a fighter pilot," Bradley began when she shut the door, "your callsign would be Ghost because you're freakishly silent."

"I appreciate the compliment, but it doesn't make me any less mad at you," Juliette said, handing him the icepack. "Keep that on for at least ten minutes."

Bradley nodded, putting it up to his cheek. He winced slightly. "Thank you. For everything."

She sighed, hating to see him hurting. "You can always come to me when you need to be fixed up. Don't think otherwise because I'm mad right now. I just wished it wasn't so frequent."

"I know..." Bradley smiled apologetically at her. "Have I ever said how much I love you?"

"All the time, and I love you too, even if you are going to put me in my early grave with how much you make me worry." Juliette sat next to him, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when he laced his fingers with hers and lifted the back of her hand to his mouth. He placed a feather-light kiss on her skin, and her breath caught in her throat. "Bradley?"

He locked eyes with her, and the air between them electrified. Juliette watched his gaze drop down to her lips, and an impossible thought flashed in her mind. As far as she'd been aware, Bradley had no interest in anyone or anything but the Navy, let alone a relationship with his long-time best friend. But now...

His eyes flicked back to hers, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "Jules, can I do something stupid?" 

"As long as it's not getting into another fight, go for it," she told him, praying she hadn't misread the entire situation unfolding before her.

Bradley hesitated for a second, then leaned in and planted a kiss on Juliette's lips. Her brain short-circuited at the contact, not because she wasn't enjoying it, but because she couldn't believe this was happening! She'd liked Bradley for ages but had always taken the pessimistic approach that he'd never feel the same way to avoid having her heart broken. 

The kiss ended all too soon for her liking, but Juliette could barely comprehend it'd just happened, let alone form words to tell him to put his lips back on hers or make a move of her own. 

"How stupid was I?" Bradley queried, cringing at Juliette's stunned expression. He started to lean back when he received nothing but silence from her, and the sight knocked Juliette's senses back. Grabbing his shirt in her first, she pulled him back to her and crashed her lips onto his. In the distance, the sound of his icepack dropping to the floor could be heard, but all Juliette cared about what Bradley's hands cupping her face. She could've stayed kissing him forever had they both not needed to take a breath.

Bradley braced his forehead against hers and said, "So, is it safe for me to assume I wasn't stupid?"

"Not stupid. Not with this," Juliette answered, lifting her hand to his bruised cheek. "I'm pretty sure it's the smartest thing you've done all day."

"Honestly, you're probably right." He dropped his hands from her face, albeit reluctantly, and clasped them tightly in his lap. "I should've done that sooner, especially with me maybe heading off to the Navy soon, or college in general, but I wasn't- I couldn't tell if you liked me the way I did you."

"If it helps, until about thirty seconds ago, I didn't know you had any interest in me like that." Juliette reached down and placed the ice pack gingerly on his cheek. "I thought the only relationship you wanted was with the Navy."

Bradley chuckled. "Nah, I just wanted people to believe that. Look, I know you're studying for a big test tomorrow, and I don't want to distract you from it any more than I have already, but do you have time to come down to my car really quickly? I have something for you. A belated birthday present."

"Sure," Juliette replied, knowing fully well she would agree to just about anything Bradley asked of her in that moment. The two of them crept out her window and down the oak tree to Bradley's Bronco around the corner, just out of sight of the Kazansky household. She watched him open his door and pull out a small plastic bag from underneath the passenger seat. Curious, she asked, "What's that?"

He pulled out a dainty silver locket with a small anchor in the center, inlaid against an ocean blue backdrop. Juliette felt her mouth drop open as she took the piece of jewelry from him, rubbing her thumb over the facade of the locket. 

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I can't believe you remembered!"

"I went back and bought it a few days later. Flip it over. There's something on the back," Bradley told her, shoving his hands in his pockets. Juliette did as told. On the back of the locket was the inscription: India Lima Yankee. Juliette smiled at the words. It was part of her and Bradley's own little love language, something they'd say as a 'thank you' or when they wanted to say 'I love you' without anyone understanding or misconstruing the meaning. They said 'I love you' to each other all the time when it was just the two of them, but Juliette always assumed Bradley meant it platonically. After the events of tonight, she wondered otherwise. 

"Do you like it?" Bradley asked, leaning against his Bronco.

"I love it," Juliette replied, slipping it over her head. The statement piece came to rest dead center on her chest. As she placed her hand over the locket, still unable to fully believe it belonged to her, an epiphany dawned on her. "Bradley, I absolutely adore it, but how- how did you afford it? I remember it wasn't exactly cheap, and the engraving had to add an extra cost. I know you're trying to save money for when you're at college-"

"Maverick helped me out," he confessed, shifting on his feet. "I told him about the fights, how you've been patching me up so mom doesn't worry as much when I get home, how I wanted to get you this locket as a thank you and to show my appreciation. When Maverick heard that, I think he wanted me to get this for you as a thank you from him as well."

Juliette stood on her tiptoes and gave Bradley a kiss, short and sweet but full of adoration. "Thank you," she said, beaming up at him. 

"You're welcome. Happy birthday Jules." Bradley leaned down and pecked her on the lips once more. "As much as I want you to stay with me as long as possible tonight, we should probably get you back up to your room before your parents decide to do a random check. You also need to get sleep before the test tomorrow."

The last thing Juliette wanted to do was go back to her room. All she wanted to do was kiss Bradley again. It was all she could think about, and suddenly Jules understood what everyone meant by 'raging teenage hormones.' Still, his logic won out, and she reluctantly headed back to her room with Bradley beside her, his hand in hers. They said nothing on the way to the oak tree nor when they both climbed it. Only when Juliette turned around to bid him goodnight with a kiss did they say anything."

"India Lima Yankee," she whispered against his lips, heart fluttering at the double-meaning the words now held. Juliette feared it might be too early in their budding relationship to utter their inside saying in fear of running Bradley off with the implication, but he seemed wholly unfazed when he repeated the words back to her: "India Lima Yankee."

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