#and it turned my dash into a warzone

[curb-your-dog]

good fight guys @autismswagreblogs

#rottmnt #tmnt #mp100 #donatello #flashing #tbh it was a lot closer than i was expecting #and it turned my dash into a warzone #but the poll's been a lot of fun :) ty to the mod for all of the hard work

[m-musings]

Crawl Out Through the Fallout with Me: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard X Fem! Reader

A/N: never played an official fallout game in my life but i still love this man so it's time to bullshit some stuff, let's gooooooo

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: After a fight with raiders, a argument between lovers ensues when one of them gets hurt.

Warnings: typical fallout vibes, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, pre-established relationship, Cooper being Cooper but also being a bit ooc, this is cheesy as hell and def not canon compliant lmao

"Damnit, (Y/n), just what the hell were you thinkin'?!"

An upset voice rang out into the evening air of the Wasteland as a pair of figures rested up inside the crumbling walls of an abandoned building.

Lit by the fading light of the sun, (Y/n) hissed in pain as her irradiated companion tried to sew a sizable gunshot wound on her arm shut.

As he passed the needle back and forth through the gash, the girl rolled her eyes with an exasperated groan as a few rivulets of blood rolled down her arm.

"Gimme a break, Coop! Did you wanna be the one to be shot?! I don't- ow!- think so!"

During a journey to find their next cash-out, the partners were ambushed by a large group of raiders & fiends. After managing to get rid of most of them, one had managed to sneak up and send a bullet flying straight for Cooper.

Noticing the weapon before Cooper could even turn to see the shooter, (Y/n) dashed over and shoved the ghoul out of the path of the shot, causing her arm to be hit instead.

Now- a few hours after killing the remaining enemies- they took shelter in a decrepit shack in order to patch themselves up in peace and rest for the night.

"I'd still be better off than you are right now. I mean, for fucks sake, darlin', I'm a ghoul. I've been through worse than just being shot at."

"Well then, that's the last time I try to be helpful. Next time, I'll sit back and relax while you get absolutely slaughtered by raiders, how about that?!"

"Go right on ahead, see if I care! Now, hold still. Can't close this cut if you keep on squirmin' around." Cooper huffed as he gave the suture one final tug before snipping the end off with a pocket knife and tying it into a knot.

After he was finished, (Y/n) rolled the pain out of her bicep before reaching into her bag to grab a somewhat clean cloth to wipe up any remaining blood.

With a sputter of her lips, she got up from her spot next to Cooper to sit upon the old mattress in the other corner of the room in order to apply a stimpak to herself. It wouldn't be enough to heal the wound completely but it would be enough for her to be able to use her arm properly.

Satisfied with the sight of her flesh knitting back together, Cooper finally relaxed in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Now don't go doin' anything that stupid again, y' hear me? Don't wanna have to use any more stims than we have to."

"I just... don't understand why you're so worked up about this. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it's literally a warzone out here. A scar or two isn't unusual." (Y/n) griped as she fell back onto the bed while crossing her arms.

"Yeah, for someone like me it isn't. But it shouldn't ever happen someone like you. You shouldn't have to get hurt like that..." Grumbled Cooper as he leaned back against the wall.

"I'm not made of glass, Coop, I can handle a few hits."

"Don't care. You're way too valuable for me to lose."

(Y/n)'s glare softened at that, realizing the true intention behind the cowboy's scolding was worry. As Cooper sets up a small lantern on the floor to combat the growing darkness, (Y/n) watches the man with a fondness gleaming in her eyes.

"Is that what this is all about? You didn't wanna see me get hurt?" Whispers the girl as she turns onto her side.

Although the action is rather subtle, the ghoul's body visibly tenses up as he fixes his gaze away from the woman across from him.

"I never said that."

"It's clear that you thought it, though." (Y/n) chuckled as she softly grinned at the cowboy.

Heaving out an irritated sigh, Cooper hunches over to look at her as he readjusts his hat.

"What do ya wanna hear from me, sweetheart? That I care about you? That I love ya? Well, if you don't know that by now, then you might be much dumber than I thought you were."

"Hey, I resent that! You'd be lost with me and you know it!"

"Sure I would. Just like how you'd do great out there if you were all alone."

(Y/n) shakes her head with a scoff before she gets up from the mattress to walk over plop herself onto Cooper's lap after he sits back down on the beat-up dinner chair.

As she shuffles into place, Cooper places his hand on the small of her back to ensure she doesn't topple over. He silently glances at her face, analyzing her now troubled expression as she fiddles with the lapel on his duster.

Mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words to say, she presses her lips together before finally speaking her thoughts.

"Y'know, I worry about you too... I'm always so worried that there's gonna be a day where that one gunner you miss is gonna be the one that gets you." (Y/n) admits sadly as she rests her head on Cooper's shoulder.

Cooper's eyes widen slightly and peer down at her as he begins to rub a hand up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her.

"Hey now, look at me. That'll never happen. Not on my watch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I got too much to fight for. I already lost one family to this nonsense and I'll be damned if you get taken away from me too. I'll fight tooth and nail before I let anything touch me or you again, understand?"

"But why? What's so special about me?"

"If I allow you to get hurt anymore, I will never be able to live with myself again. I love you, so...so much, darlin'." Cooper states with a resolute nod.

(Y/n) eyes water and crinkle with a gentle smile before she leans up to place a couple light kisses upon his charred lips, which he returns immediately upon receiving.

"I love you too, Cooper..." Mutters (Y/n) as she closes her arm around his shoulders.

With a laugh rumbling in his chest, Cooper wraps both of his hands around her waist as he holds her as close as he can.

"Your sweetness is what's gonna be the death of me one of these days, doll... Not some dumbass bullet." Cooper jokes quietly, placing a kiss atop her hair & resting his head on hers as he rocks back and forth to lull her to sleep.

Listening to the calming sound of her breathing as she slumbers, Cooper thinks about how lucky a man like him is to have found a love like (Y/n) in such a desolate situation.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard #fallout the series #fallout imagines #fanfic

[lexosaurus]

Keep Your Enemies Closer

A little Tech Hunter AU oneshot I wrote for DP Angstfest 2023! I based this off of @kinglazrus' AU fic for the @dpauzine in which Tucker is the Red Hunter. It's been stuck in my brain ever since, so I couldn't resist writing her AU for this event!

[ao3]

****

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

That's what people always said, anyway. It's what actors spouted in Hollywood blockbusters as their characters sipped their old fashioned in the dimly lit bar. It's what people typed in their chat logs online, thinking of themselves as high and mighty, very cool, not to be messed with, while they cracked open their fifth serving-sized bag of Doritos that day.

But this wasn't a Hollywood blockbuster. It wasn't Tucker talking up himself to random usernames online.

As he looked at Danny, who was animatedly chatting to Sam about some recently released video game that Tucker couldn’t pretend to care about anymore, he knew that this wasn't just a cool verse. It was real, at least to him. 

“The final boss was way too easy,” Sam was saying. “It's like the devs weren't even trying.”

“I beat it in like five seconds flat,” Danny agreed.

“Yeah, because you exploited the armor glitch,” Sam said. “If you played the game like it was supposed to be played, the final boss would have taken at least a little longer.”

Danny tsked his tongue. “It’s not my fault that I’m obviously just one step ahead of the devs. And you, actually.”

“Come on,” Sam laughed, catching onto the mood. “Stop messing with me.”

Danny grinned back at her, his fangs poking out over his lips. “Samantha Manson, when have I ever messed with you?”

Tucker ducked his head before his face could show. Though, each day that passed seemed to allow that quiet mask to slip over his face far more easily than the day before. And he wasn't even talking about the little yellow mask that lived under his skin.

He remembered the day he'd pieced it all together. The day all the lies, all the little breadcrumb clues, suddenly snapped into place.

He'd been home, as usual, watching videos of the rapidly increasing ghost attacks targeting the city. And of course, at the epicenter of it all was Phantom.

Danny fucking Phantom.

He remembered Danny calling him, his face popping up on Tucker’s home screen, and Tucker pausing the video and holding up his phone to see the two faces side by side. The same smile, the same freckles, the same jaw and haircut and they were the same. 

He couldn’t believe it. But…it made sense. And maybe that was the worst part because it meant that his friend, his best friend, was dead. And worse, he’d turned into a monster. 

But when? When had he died? Was it that “accident” that he sometimes referenced? The day he’d gotten hurt by some of his parents’ equipment?

It didn’t matter. Because now, he was Phantom. But how was he Phantom? The ghost that Tucker loathed. The ghost that Tucker had long since blamed for turning their safe city into a fucking warzone.

How did his best friend turn into…that? Was death really so horrible that it completely changed a person? 

Or was this always inside Danny, deep down in the recess of his subconscious? So deep, so hidden, that Tucker had never noticed till now.

Some people saw Phantom as a hero, and he seemed to revel in it. His cockiness was overflowing, and he took great pride in arriving at every scene precisely when the new ghost of the week would show up. He'd throw a few puns, assure the crowd that, “Don't worry, citizens! I've got this!”, and then he'd beat the ghost up, suck them in his thermos, and would disappear until the next attack.

Phantom had fooled many of the masses. But despite what Dash's stupid nicknames would suggest, Tucker was no sucker. Even if everyone else had their heads up their ass, he didn't.

Tucker didn’t do anything at first. Maybe he’d just been in too deep of a denial. After all, who wanted to pin the destruction of their city on their fucking best friend? 

But then, he started paying attention. To Danny, the “human,” more. All his little quirks, his habits. The way he seemed to jump when Sam casually put a hand on his shoulder (he’d never used to do that), the way his teeth started to sharpen (humans don’t have fangs), the way his eyes would spark green sometimes (it wasn’t a trick of the light), or how he’d always disappear right before a ghost attack (almost like he knew they were coming).

But Tucker stayed silent. Because if Danny was Phantom, then Danny was dangerous. Who knew what Phantom would do if Tucker revealed that he knew? No, it was better to stay docile, not rock the boat, not put his life at risk. Just play it cool.

That plan only worked for so long.

The breaking point wasn’t an explosion of flashy lights so much as it was a seed, planted, but not yet even watered. It was Tucker booting up his virtual computer and opening Tor after school like any other day. 

The usual usernames were chatting in his group. People working on their various projects, coming to the chat room for tips or just talking about whatever other topic was on their mind. This was typical—welcome, even—after the confusing mess that had been Tucker’s every other waking moment as of late.

And then the conversation took a turn. 

To Phantom.

Sporksmith: I haven't wrapped my head around whether Phantom is a good guy or not. ChaseK: It's sus that as soon as the ghosts started showing up, so did he. Sporksmith: That's what I'm thinking, but the guy takes so many beatings a week. I feel like it's more likely that he's crawling out of the same dimensional holes that they are because the dude has family here or something. Mole: That's probably it. He uses modern slang, so it's pretty obvious he died recently.

This wasn’t the first time they’d talked about Phantom. He was a fascinating subject and under much national scrutiny. But this time, Tucker finally stepped in.

GoldenFryer: You guys don't know what you're talking about. ChaseK: You know something then? GoldenFryer: Yeah, I have some inside info. Can't say much, but Phantom isn't who he seems. He's dangerous. Sporksmith: You sound like a guy who's got something up his sleeve.

He hadn't, at that point. But still, it needled his mind. He was closest to Phantom, wasn't he? Even if Danny himself didn't know. Of everyone, wasn't it Tucker’s responsibility to do something about this?

To set the soul of his dead best friend free?

GoldenFryer: Not yet, but maybe I should.

Of course, he couldn't do it by himself, but there was someone who could help. Someone with money, power, and a vocal hatred for ghostly invaders.

“Tucker Foley,” Vladimir Masters said, opening his door. His hair was pulled back in his signature ponytail, and he wore a gaudy green Packers bathrobe. “You’re awake early on a Saturday for a teenager. My, where's your other half?”

“No Danny today. Just me,” he said, keeping his tone casual despite the sudden anxiety spike in his gut.

Vlad grinned and stepped aside, sweeping his arm over the now open doorway. “Excellent, why don't you come in?”

Tucker followed the gesture and stepped through the door, trying to ignore the guilt that was clawing at him. Danny always talked about how much he hated Vlad, and how creepy the guy was. And while Tucker agreed that Vlad was more than a little slimy, Vlad was a businessman, and more importantly, a billionaire. Being slimy kinda came with the territory.

And besides, Vlad had only moved into the town a year ago, after Danny had already turned into Phantom. So, it wasn't Danny who hated Vlad, not really.

“Come, make yourself comfortable. You're a bit too young for me to offer you a drink, but maybe some water, perhaps?”

“I'm fine,” Tucker said. His voice echoed around the empty house.

“Then sit.” Vlad pulled out a seat at the bar. “I just brewed myself a pot of tea. Maybe you'd care for some of that?”

“No thanks,” Tucker said, his voice jilted as he forcefully remembered his manners. Even if it was Phantom who hated Vlad, Tucker wasn't too keen on being behind closed doors with the man any longer than necessary either. 

Vlad paid him no mind, of course, and poured his tea into a fancy china cup. He brought the cup up to his nose, sniffed, and then smiled, setting it down on a small plate on the counter and settling into a seat for himself. “So,” he started, clasping his hands together. “What do I owe the pleasure of seeing you on this fine day?”

Tucker blew a breath out, trying to expel the mounting anxiety in his system. “Okay, I realize what I'm about to say sounds absolutely insane. I get that, but I just need you to let me explain.”

That slimy smirk was back on Vlad's lips. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Okay.” Tucker wrung his hands in his lap. “Okay, just—just hear me out. Trust me, nobody wants to say this less than me.”

“But of course, my dear boy.”

Tucker exhaled one last time and then began. “So, I know who Phantom is. You know, the ghost? I—he's disguising himself as a teenager, and I know who it is.”

“Oh, really? My, that doesn't sound good.”

“It's not.” Tucker closed his eyes, covering his forehead with his hand. “It's the worst, really. Because the person that Phantom is pretending to be—and I know, I know, just let me explain—but it's Danny. Danny Fenton.”

Tucker peeked through his hand to see the smile on Vlad's lips widen. 

“Daniel Fenton, my godson, you mean?” Vlad said. “That's quite the accusation.”

“I know it is. Trust me,” Tucker said. “But—okay, so basically, I think what happened was that Danny was in some sort of lab accident, and it killed him. He talks about it sometimes, but he doesn't give any details. But I'm pretty sure that was it. Because only like a month after that happened, all the ghosts started appearing. And Phantom too. I—uh, here. Hang on, let me show you...” Tucker leaned over and pulled his tablet from his backpack. He opened it and went to his files, opening a pdf of his comparison photos. He handed the tablet to Vlad, saying, “This is them side by side in different positions. You can really see it there, when the photos are lined up like this. They look exactly the same. But that's not all! Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Vlad said, swiping through the pdf.

“Look, I don't really know how to explain it, but Danny's just...he's different now. He disappears before ghosts attack, he comes back all beat and sometimes bloody. He's cold, way colder than normal, and sometimes I see him—when someone's annoying him or if he's pissed—where it's almost like...like he can't even contain his human form anymore. His eyes get green, and sometimes ectoplasm sparks in his palms. It's not human.”

“And you see this as...a problem?” Vlad looked up from the tablet. “If Daniel was Phantom?”

“Why wouldn't it be? Don't you have this whole initiative to get rid of ghosts?” Tucker argued.

If anything, that seemed to amuse Vlad more. He set the tablet down and said, “But of course, I wasn't insinuating anything. I merely just acknowledge that Daniel is your best friend and that most of you youths enjoy Phantom's presence in this city.”

“Only the blind ones do. I know better. Phantom is bringing the ghosts into this town. Mr. Masters, you know how all ghosts have Obsessions?”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Well, Phantom’s Obsession is being a hero, right? What's more heroic than setting up a bunch of ghost fights to 'save' people from?”

Vlad's smile was almost impossibly wide now. “Yes, I understand.”

Something was amusing to that billionaire creep, but Tucker hardly had time to figure out what before Vlad was up out of his seat, pacing around his kitchen.

“You see, I already know all this. You understand, I'm the one funding this city's anti-ghost initiative. And I also know that young Daniel is Phantom.”

Tucker's jaw dropped. “You do?”

“But of course, I do!” Vlad pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped on it for a minute before passing it off to Tucker. In an encrypted app that Tucker didn't recognize was a video. 

“Well, go on,” Vlad said.

Tucker pressed play on the video to see a dimly lit alley with Phantom standing at the end of it. He glanced around, and then white rings appeared, passing over his body. A white T-shirt and jeans replaced a black suit, and black hair replaced white hair.

The rings disappeared, and the person that remained was none other than Danny Fenton.

Tucker blinked, and his head snapped out of the memory. His eyes refocused, and Danny Fenton sat in front of him, still talking to Sam, his posture still far too easygoing for someone who wasn't even human.

His human form was impressively detailed. His unruly black hair, dash of freckles on his cheeks, blue eyes, and pointed nose—all signature traits of Danny. He had gotten it almost perfect.

Almost. 

It made Tucker's blood boil, and he struggled to push it down, keep it in check. Ghosts could feel intense emotions.

The calm mask slipped over him once more, and Tucker was empty. Just empty.

Just how, when he stared into Danny's eyes, he could see that same emptiness too. There was no humanity left. No, that'd died almost two years ago now. All that remained was a ghost. 

He wanted his friend back. But that was impossible. The only thing that he could do now was wipe all ghosts out so no one ever suffered the way Tucker was right now.

He was a hacker, so once he got the tech, programming it was a piece of cake. Okay, so maybe it was a little bit harder than that, but he was nothing if not determined.

And he was nothing if not a damn good programmer.

And now he had the power to fix this, end the ghostly invasion in Amity, end Phantom's terrorizing reign, and set his former friend free.

“What do you think, Tuck?” Danny turned to face Tucker.

“Huh?” Tucker grunted, his elbow nearly slipping from his desk. “Sorry, what are we talking about?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Jeez, you really have been spacey today. Sleep well last night?”

No, he hadn't, actually. Because Phantom had set up another attack at 2 a.m. and so Tucker had to intervene.

Danny was wearing long sleeves today. Good. It meant that Tucker's shot really had nailed his bicep.

“No, sorry,” Tucker chuckled. “Was rushing to get Lancer's essay done. I can't work on it this weekend; my cousins are coming to town.”

“Again?” Sam asked.

No, they weren't. Tucker hadn't seen his cousins since Christmas. 

“Yeah, my aunt and my mom are in this whole midlife crisis thing right now. Want to make sure we all bond properly or something.” Tucker waved his hand haphazardly. “You know how moms are.”

That was the perfect trigger for Sam, who huffed expectantly. “Oh yeah, don't even get me started. My mom is still trying to make me bond with Kate. Kate's two years older than me and was the head of her cheer team. Like, hello? You can only imagine what her playlists are like.”

“You should blast some death metal next time,” Danny said.

“Trust me, I have. It's the only way to get her to shut up.”

“Must not be death enough.” Danny flashed his teeth in a mischievous smile. “I’m sure I can help put together a playlist if you want.”

That cocky motherfucker…

Did he enjoy gloating over everyone? Did he really laugh at them when he was alone, all the stupid, idiotic, airhead humans who he thought didn’t notice anything?

Squashing his emotions was suddenly too difficult, and just before the internal tea kettle was able to whistle, Tucker was saved by the bell.

Oh, thank god.

Tucker was out of his seat before anyone else, scooping his notebook from his desk, throwing his bag over his shoulder, and racing out the door before Sam or Danny could catch up.

Still, when against his better conscience he glanced over to his friends, he didn’t miss the subtle look Danny gave him or the green glint in the corner of his eye…

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

If only it was easy.

****

[read more of my work]

#danny phantom #angstfest2023 #tech hunter AU #phicc #my writing #no one knows AU

[1-800-munson]

My Love Is Alive || Eddie Munson

Pairing:  Eddie Munson X Reader

Word Count: 2k

Request: okay here me out. eddie munson x reader eddie makes a promise to y/n and their infant son he’ll be back.he does but is in the hospital and they have a heartfelt reunion and Eddie proposes to y/n. - @writing-fanics

A/N: Thank you sm for the request! When I say I loved writing this!! Please give me feedback!

!!Requests Are Open!!

 >━━━━༺❀༻━━━━<

“Check it out. The warzone. I’ve been there once, it’s huge! It has everything you would need for um…killing things!” Eddie explained as he placed a flyer for the store on the table.”Is that a grenade! Look how any of this legal?!” Robin asked as she looked down at the flyer. “Well luckily for us it is! This place is just right outside of hawkins! As long as we stay clear of main roads we can avoid cops or uh angry hicks…” he said with an uncomfortable smile on his face.

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some place called the warzone!” Dustin pointed at Erica, silently agreeing with her. “Normally I would agree with you but we need the weapons, so i think it’s worth the risk!” Nancy said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Me too!” Erica looked at Lucas surprised. “But It'll take all day to bike from here to there!” Dustin said as he followed Nancy's actions.

“Who said anything about biking?” Eddie said as he stood up straight. “What? Do you have a car we don’t know about?” Steve asked, confused. “It’s not exactly a car steve! And it’s not exactly mine.” Eddie said with a smile. Everyone looked at each other confused.

You sighed as you heard knocking on your front door. You decided to ignore it. "What kind of party would you like for your first birthday?" You asked Joey, yours and Eddie's 12 month baby. As you sat down next to him, he just babbled at you before looking back at his cartoon "Would you like scooby doo?" Before Joey could come up with any form of a response the knocking continued.

You sighed and got up from the floor. You walked over to your door and were surprised to see Nancy, Steve and the kids behind them. “Hey Nance What’s up?” you asked as you noticed the kids kept looking around the area. “Do you know Eddie munson?” you tensed up and moved the door a bit closer to yourself, making sure to hide joey for their sight. “Why?” Shuffling was heard as you tilted your head at the sound. “Hey gorgeous!” Eddie said with a smile. You let out a breath of relief. “Hi eddie!” you smiled at him. “Could we borrow your RV please?” he asked, doing a smile you couldn’t say no to.

“What For?” you asked confused. “We need to um go to a store..” he said, trying to think of a way to explain this whole situation. “We need to get stuff to kill something from the upside down!” Steve said bluntly. Eddie was the only one who didn’t know you had helped the gang the previous times. “Another demogorgon?!” you asked with wide eyes. “No but just as bad, the murders that have been happening isn’t eddie or an actual killer, it’s someone form the upside down.” you stared at nancy “I’m sorry but “someone” from the upside down! There was a person there!” Eddie looked between you and Nancy as she quickly brought you back up to speed with them.

“Let me go with!” you said as you walked over to the bowl of keys and got the RV keys out. “You can’t y/n!” Eddie said, making everyone turn to look at him confused as to why you couldn’t join them.

“Why not munson?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips. Eddie looked in Joey's direction. You sighed at him “I have a babysitter for him! Give me a moment! Come in guys!” you said before you dashed into your kitchen to call the babysitter.

The group walked into your home and looked around, Steve and Robin were the first to notice Joey in the living room. They slowly elbowed the others to look at Joey, who didn’t bother looking at the visitor in his home. “Hey little dude!” Eddie with a smile as he walked over and picked Joey up. “Eddie, you can't just go around and pick up random babies!” Dustin said as the group watched Joey get all excited in his arms.

“Well luckily this one’s mine, everyone this is joey munson! Say hi joe” he told the baby who didn’t move and just stared at Eddie with admiration “My mom said we could just drop him off instead! His babysitter wasn’t there.” you said as you came running out from your room, struggling to tie your shoelace while standing up.

“Alright let's go!” you said as you started walking out the door, the group followed. No said anything as you dropped off joey at your parents house. It wasn’t till you got back into the RV when the questions started for you and eddie.

“You have a child with Eddie munson and you didn’t tell us?” Nancy asked you as she sat down next to robin. “There was a reason I wasn't in school for so long!” you told the pair who looked at each other shocked.

The ride to the store was interesting due to Steve's turns in the RV.

“Dustin, y/n and lucas, you three stay here and make sure no one sees eddie!” Steve directed as he and the others got out of the RV and walked into the store. “You knew eddie! Why didn’t you tell us y/n!” Dustin said with a smile, two of his favorite people knew each other without a mutual friend. “I didn’t think you boys would get along with him but again you all play dnd!” you said as you leaned against the window.

After a few minutes everyone came running back into the rv with bags of their needed supplies. "What's wrong?" Lucas asked, as everyone quickly jumped into their seats. "You're old friends are here!" Erica replied, you quickly tossed a blanket for Eddie to cover his head with.

After that tiny scare had happened, Steve drove to an empty field and parked the RV on the side of the road. Everyone had broken up into pairs, you followed behind Eddie and Dustin, you grabbed the nails they would be needing for their makeshift shields. "How does it feel?" Dustin asked Eddie as he picked up the shield and acted like he was blocking himself off. "Light but durable, deadly but reliable!" 

"Hear me now! No more retreating from Eddie the banished!" Eddie said chuckling, putting the trash can lid down next to you. "Sounds like you're ready for bat-tle!" Dustin laughed at his own joke. You and Eddie looked at each other, you forced yourself from laughing. "Get it..B-A-T, Battle?" He tried to explain to you both. You and Eddie looked at each other before Eddie tackled dustin.

"You son of a bitch!" Dustin said as he and Eddie playfully fought "no wedgies! No wedgies!" Dustin exclaimed as the pair rolled around. "Be Careful you two or else someone's gonna end up with grass marks on their pants!" You told the boys, making Eddie and Dustin stand up from the grass. Eddie held onto dustin. "Never change, Dustin henderson!" He smiled at him. "You either, y/n y/l/n!" Eddie walked over and sat down next to you. "You sound much more like a mom now!" Dustin laughed as he sat on the crate next to you and eddie. "I still can't believe it, my old babysitter and my favorite friend have a child together!" Dustin said still in disbelief.

You and Eddie smiled, Eddie pulled out his wallet and showed a polaroid picture of Joey to dustin. "He looks so cute!" Dustin gushed at the photo. You smiled and continued to hammer nails into the trash can lids. "How are those spears coming along, Sinclairs?" Eddie yelled towards Erica and Lucas's direction. Erica scoffed at Lucas's thumbs up and muttered something to him. Eddie sent Dustin over to the duo before they could start fighting.

You and Eddie sat in silence as you hammered the lids while Eddie stared at the polaroid photo he had stashed behind cash of you and Joey at his uncle's small birthday celebration. "You promise you'll come back to me and Joey, right eddie?" You asked, slightly scared of his possible answer.

"Of course I will y/n!" He rubs your leg in reassurance "You make sure you'll protect Dustin too right?" You asked as you watched everyone else finish up making their makeshift weapons and armor. "I'll make sure Henderson will be alright!" He  said as you pulled his bandana from his back pocket and unfolded it. "Tonight protect Dustin like he's a grown up joey, understand me munson?" You asked Eddie as you tied the bandana around his head. "I do y/l/n!" He said with a chuckle. Dustin smiled as he watched you and Eddie play around while you got Eddie geared up.

That Night

You sighed as you watched as Steve drove up towards the old creel house and dropped off Lucas, Max and erica. "Good luck, be careful" you told the trio as they got out of the rv. Steve watched them go up to the front steps before driving away to the forest hills trailer park.

You sighed as Steve parked the RV in front of Eddie's trailer. "Promise me you'll both make sure you and Dustin will come back to me safe?" You told Eddie as you watched everyone unload from the rv. "I told you earlier y/n I will!" He said softly as he held you. "I know but I can't stand the feeling that I could lose you in there eddie.." you felt yourself hold onto his jacket tighter as he tried to pull away from you.

"Don't leave me munson!" You felt tears dropping onto his leather clad shoulder. Eddie kissed the top of your head before he pulled away from you head, he leaned down a bit and kissed your lips, he held your head in his hands and smiled at you "After this all you'll have to worry about is what kind of cake Joey will want at his birthday party!" He joked, you smiled at him and kissed him one last time before he had to go inside.

You watched as the gang entered the trailer before you started up the rv and drove away.

Later 

It had been about two hours since the group had been dropped off at Eddie's trailer. It wasn't till two in the morning when you heard the phone ringing, you sighed as you got out of bed and walked towards the phone that was hung up in the kitchen.

"Hello?" You greeted as you wiped away the sleep from your eyes. "Y/n! Come to the hospital fast, it's about eddie!" Dustin said into the phone, you quickly figured out which hospital and hung up on dustin. You walked back to your room and threw on clothes. You walked over towards Joey's side of the bed and picked him up.

The infant stirred as you carried him to your beat up car and put him into his carseat. "Hush, go back to sleep honey!" You calmed Joey as you buckled him in. You ran to your side of the car and drove to the hospital, you were pretty sure you had broken every driving law.

You quickly parked and grabbed Joey a.d made your way into the ER. "Y/n!" You turned to see Nancy waving you over to where your small group was waiting together. The kids perked up when they saw you carrying joey over. Robin took Joey from you as Nancy and Steve talked to you.

They quickly got you up to speed with what had happened to eddie. "Is he alright?" You asked, as you sat down next to dustin. You sighed and rubbed his back as he held his head in his hands. "The doctors are looking over him right now, but we won't be able to see him." You stopped rubbing Dustin's back and looked at Steve confused. "The police want to try to investigate him." You rolled your eyes at his words.

It had been about an hour before you spoke to Dustin "I'm glad you saved him dustin!" The teen looks up at you. "I thought he was really gonna die, those bats tried to eat him, when I tried to save him he just pushed me away, he told me to leave and go back to you. He started to say his goodbyes to me!" you sighed and hugged Dustin as he cried into your shoulder. "It's alright Dustin, you saved him, didn’t you?" You asked, he gave you a nod as he wiped away his tears. "I think Joey wants to thank you for that!" You said with a smile as you watched Joey stare at Dustin in Nancy's arms, showing his two bottom teeth to you both. You both laughed as Joey tried to lean forward but Nancy caught him.

"Ms y/l/n?" You shot up and turned to face the doctor "yes?" You walked over. "You may visit Mr Munson now, he will be kept here for his whole recovery." You nod your head, "Would you like to see him?" You nod at the doctor. "May I grab my sweater real quick?" The doctor nodded. You quickly ran back and gave the group an explanation before running back over to the doctor. He led you to Eddie's recovery room. You thanked the doctor as they left you and Eddie be.

"I kept my promise." Eddie said as you walked into his room. You quickly ran over and gently hugged him. "I was worried something had happened to you!" You told him as you clung onto him. "I made sure to protect Dustin like you said." He said with a light laugh. "I heard, don't you ever dare do that again!" You lightly smacked his arm. “I can’t afford to lose you eddie!” you let out the tears you held back. “And you won’t y/n!, you're stuck with me and Joey until the end of time!” he said as he held the back of your head. “Is that a proposal, munson?” you smiled as you wiped your tears away with eddie’s help. “What if it is?” he asked as he admired your eyes.

“I’ll gladly take it!” you smiled and kissed him on his chapped lips. “I love you mrs munson!” he muttered into the kiss, you pulled away and smiled at the new nickname. “And I love you mr munson!” you both leaned in and started kissing again.

“Oh god!”

“Ew! Old people kissing!”

“In Front of the baby!”

“Cover his eyes dustin!” you and eddie pulled away from the kiss laughing at your friends reactions. It seemed like everything was gonna be alright.

Bonus

“Eddie, would you mind?” Mike asked, gesturing to the infant on the hospital bed. Eddie smiled at Joey “Joe, c’mon yell for your mom!” Joey just stared at Eddie before he looked back at mike. Joey just smiled and babbled at him before he crawled closer to him, Mike hesitantly picked him up. Joey smiled and got closer before he tried to bite Mike with his two little harmless teeth. “Y/n! He’s doing it again!” gareth yelled as they watched joey attack mike with his bottom teeth.

“Joey Munson!” you playfully scolded as you watched steve grab joey off of mike’s face. Joey just babbled as he parted ways from Mike and right into your arms. “Don’t go around biting people!” you tickled his sides as eddie started hellfire’s new campaign. While the members gathered to discuss their next move Eddie looked around his hospital room and smiled at the sight, his other club members talking passionately about their new campaign, yourself and the other’s playing with Joey to keep him busy. Eddie’s smile got wider as he saw your newly bought ring, he had Steve and Dustin buy for him, shine in the sunset peaking through the closed blinds.

And to think he almost never got to witness this sight.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson fix it fic #dad!eddie munson

[youshouldhavepaidattentiondad]

Never Found Again

Summary:  John comes home to a new warzone: his child's resentment. Words: 3,355 Ao3

My sweet boy Russ is in this fic. Also, this fic is for @whotfamitho who brilliantly, back when NMT2 first streamed, suggested Ziggs MacNamara as to why we didn’t learn Ziggy’s last name.

The sun starts to set as a nondescript black sedan follows a winding road to a small neighborhood. The car slows as John MacNamara pulls into the driveway of a two-story gray colonial.  He parks beside a familiar merlot colored SUV.

He retrieves a duffle bag from the backseat before heading up the walkway to the front door. He glances out to the street, smiling at the sight of a small green pickup truck parked by the curb in front of the house. He reaches the door, unlocking it before stepping inside.

Immediately, the smell of something delicious hits him. He drops his bag and follows the scent, leading him to the kitchen. Stopping in the entryway, he leans against the wall, drinking in the sight of a tall man at the stove. His long, dark hair is pulled into a low ponytail and he has a dish towel thrown over one of his broad shoulders. John continues to watch him fondly for a few moments longer before calling, "I'm home."

The man turns, his eyes lighting up at the sight of John. “Hey handsome.” He smiles warmly as John approaches him. As soon as he’s close enough, he pulls John into a kiss.

John melts into the kiss, his hands coming up to rest on his husband’s shoulders. He manages to knock the dish towel off his shoulder. A large hand slips under John’s t-shirt, pressing against the small of his back. John shivers.

When they break apart, one of John’s hands comes up to stroke the other man’s cheek, stubble lightly scratching his fingers. “Hey, Russ.”

Russell MacNamara pulls away at the sound of something on the stove sizzling. He turns quickly, picking up a spatula. 

Grinning, John moves to lean back against the fridge. Blue eyes watch his husband lovingly.

"Are you just gonna stand there and gawk at me?" Russ teases as he glances over his shoulder.

John shushes him. "I haven't seen you since Thanksgiving the year before last, let me have this."

The sound of footsteps running down the stairs drowns out Russ' chuckle. “Hey, Pops, is dinner almost ready? It smells so fucking good!” A lanky figure dashes into the kitchen, skidding to a stop at the sight of John. The grin on their face disappears. “General MacNamara,” they greet flatly.

“Ziggs,” Russ calls over his shoulder, a warning in his tone.

Ziggs rolls their eyes. “Hey Dad.”

“Hey Ziggy.” John moves forward to give them a hug. 

Ziggs dodges him though, avoiding his touch altogether. “Want me to set the table, Pops?” they ask Russ, ignoring John.

Russ bites back a sigh. “Yeah, that’d be good.” As Ziggs starts grabbing plates and glasses, Russ adds, “Set it for three people, Ziggy.”

“Ugh, fine.” Ziggs takes the stack of plates, glasses, and cutlery and walks past John again to go to the kitchen table.

As the soft clink of the table being set fills the air, John moves over to his husband’s side. “I guess that hasn’t gotten any better.”

Russ hums sympathetically. “How could it, darling? You haven’t been here to try to fix it.” He gives John a quick kiss. “Grab some potholders and help me move these to the table?”

Soon they’re settled around the glass top round table with plates laden with homemade vegan eggplant parmigiana and zucchini ‘noodles.’ John has to force himself to not just scarf down on everything on the plate. He hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in over a year and Russ’ cooking is the best.

Finally, he makes himself set down his fork to take a drink of water. "So how are classes going, Ziggy?" John tries to ask casually, as if he hasn't been away the past several months on military business.

Ziggs shrugs, shoveling food into their mouth to avoid answering.

Nice to see that teen rebellion never wore off. John looks at his husband, pleading silently.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Russ asks, "You mentioned the other day you have a job lined up for the summer?"

"Oh yeah." Ziggs takes a long drink of water. "Perky's Buds, working as a farm hand and graphic designer."

"That's- wait. Harvest isn't until fall, why are you working in the summer?" John questions, unable to keep the strict military tone from his voice that makes it sound like an interrogation.

They keep their eyes down, pushing food around on their plate. Finally, Ziggs looks at him. "Cause it's a pot farm, Dad. I'm surprised you didn't already know that with all your "super secret" intel." They roll their eyes before stabbing their fork into a chunk of eggplant. “How long are you here? A night or two?”

“No, actually.” John feels himself smile at the surprise on Ziggs’ face. “I’m here till the end of August. Practically all of summer.” His grin grows as he looks over at Russ. “We can rent a cabin out on the lake. Go to the Honey Festival; I haven’t been in years.” His gaze moves back to Ziggs, hoping to see any sign of excitement. “We can do anything.”

“Cool.” Ziggs finishes their food. They drop their fork, the metal hitting the ceramic with a loud clang. As they stand, they snatch their plate up. “Then I’m going to spend the summer out at the farm with Perky.”

John’s heart drops as Ziggs walks over to the sink to rinse their plate. Russ starts to rise from his seat but John grabs his hand, shaking his head. “They’re an adult,” he says quietly, barely audible over the sound of the water running. “They’re allowed to make that choice.

_

It’s been two weeks since John got home.

Which means it’s been two weeks since Ziggs left to go stay with Perky.

“Am I wrong, Russ?” John asks quietly. They’re sitting on a blanket in the grass behind the cabin they’re renting. John’s legs are crossed in front of him, his jeans rolled up to mid-calf. He’s shirtless, soaking up the sun’s rays. His hair is thrown up messily, leaving his back bared.

Russ hums as he carefully pours paint from the bottles onto a palette. “I don’t think it’s a matter of being right or wrong, John.” He picks up a slender paintbrush, dragging the soft, dry bristles across his thumb. Delicately, he dips the brush into the paint before bringing it to John’s back.

Hissing at the coolness of the paint against his skin, John stares out at the lake. “Then what is it a matter of?”

“...remember when we first started talking about me moving up here to Hatchetfield?” Russ muses as he paints deliberate strokes across John’s skin. “How you made it clear to me how important your work is to you, how you would have to constantly be gone and I wouldn’t always get to have a reason why?”

“I do.” John feels a smile tug at his lips. “Yet you chose to come up here anyway.”

“I did.” Leaning forward, Russ presses a tender kiss to John’s shoulder before smiling. “And I’d do it again. In a heartbeat.” He straightens up to resume his painting. “Ziggs didn’t get a choice, though. I tried to explain it the best I could to them when they were growing up, but I don’t think it stuck. I don’t think you understand how hard it was on them with you always gone and never really explaining why.”

John’s eyes flutter closed as he listens. “So they resent me.”

“Absolutely.” Russ shrugs as John glares at him over his shoulder. “What? You asked, darling. I’m not going to lie to you.” He rinses out his brush and switches colors. “Now, what are you going to do? Because I’ll be honest, if you ever retire and you’re at home growing herbs or whatever your plans for your golden years are-” He ignores John’s soft laughter as he continues speaking, “And our child won’t visit because you’re around, I’m going to be very upset.”

Still chuckling, John nods. “Okay, okay. I’ll develop a plan of action-”

“Or you could just talk to them, love.”

-

The grating ring of John’s work phone wakes him and Russ from their sleep. Rubbing his eyes, John reaches for the phone. He clears his throat before answering, “General MacNamara speaking.” He squints against the light spilling in through the bedroom window.

“John, it’s Xander,” the voice says on the other end, sounding anxious. “We got word of activity over in Hatchetfield. Nearly the entire checkered-tailed nighthawks population was burned to death. Reports we’ve intercepted from the Hatchetfield Police say the two suspects are claiming the marijuana they were growing-”

“Xander, I’m on vacation,” John replies wearily before his sleepy mind finally catches up. “Wait… who are the suspects?”

Through the speaker, he can hear papers rustling. Russ sets a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Looks like a woman named Emma Perkins, aka Perky, and her farmhand-slash-graphic designer-”

“Ziggs MacNamara,” John finishes as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Russ squeezes his shoulder slightly. John glances back at him, frowning when he sees the concern on his face. “What’s going on?” Russ asks quietly.

Holding up a single finger, John speaks into his phone’s receiver, “Xander, pull whatever strings you need to, promise whatever favors, I don’t care. Get those two released and the charges dropped. I’m heading to the HFPD station now to pick them up.”

“Wait, John, you can’t-”

“Those were orders, Xander,” John says firmly before sighing. “I’ll explain later.”

“...10-4. Tell Russ I say hi.”

That manages to get a small smile from John, despite the circumstances. “I’m sure he’ll say hi as well.” He hangs up and drops his phone back onto the nightstand. With a soft groan, he runs a hand back through his hair before looking at his husband. “Xander says hi.”

“What else did he say?” Russ asks, gently nudging John out of bed so they can get dressed.

John stands, stretching as he walks to the closet. “Ziggs and their boss got arrested. Something happened out at the farm. They should be released by the time I get there.”

“If they got arrested, why didn’t Zi-”

“Probably because I’m here, Russ.” John snaps, trying not to think about how that hurts. He pulls on a pair of fitted jeans and an old PT shirt from way back when he was in bootcamp. It hugs his muscles, the acrylic across his shoulders spelling out his last name flaking from age. “That’s probably why they didn’t call,” he clarifies, his voice calmer now. He runs a hand up his face, eyes squeezed shut.

Russ watches him silently. Without saying a word, he begins getting dressed as well, donning a loose t-shirt and a plain back maxi skirt. “I’ll drive.” He grabs his wallet from the top of the dresser.

“Thank you, honey.” John sighs again as his hand drops from his face. He follows after Russ, catching his hand and bringing it up to press a kiss to the back of it.

When the SUV pulls up to the police station, Emma and Ziggs are standing in the parking lot, looking confused. Russ rolls down the driver’s window and John carefully leans back so he can’t be spotted. “Ziggy! Emma!” he calls.

They both turn, looking incredibly relieved when they see who it is. “Pops!” Ziggs jogs to the SUV, Emma following close behind them.

“Oh thank God, Russ!” Emma grins. She loops around the back of the SUV to get in on the passenger side while Ziggs gets in behind Russ.

Once the doors are closed and the SUV is rolling down the road, John twists in his seat to look back at his child. “Hello, Ziggs.”

Ziggs eyes go wide, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. They immediately unbuckle their seatbelt and try to open the door, only to find it locked.

“Put your seatbelt back on, Zig,” Russ says calmly, “You’re not in trouble.”

“Uhh…” Emma’s eyes dart between John and Ziggs. “Who’s that?”

John counts to three. “I’m John MacNamara. I’m Russ’ husband and Ziggs’ dad.”

“...I thought you said your dad left,” Emma whispers nervously.

“I’m also guessing you’re the reason the charges against us were dropped?” Ziggs demands, ignoring Emma. A little bit of anger bleeds through their tone. Their seatbelt clicks back into place and they cross their arms across their chest as they slouch down in their seat.

John sighs before turning to face forward again. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I am.” He feels Russ take his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

For several moments, the only sound comes from the radio. "Um... thanks, Mr. MacNamara," Emma says hesitantly, breaking the quiet.

Scoffing, Ziggs corrects her, "Oh no, Perky, you have to address him as 'General MacNamara.' Don't you know how important titles are?"

"Ziggs," John says sternly. When he addresses Emma, his voice softens, "You can call me John, Emma, it's fine."

Silence fills the SUV and stays there until they arrive at the MacNamara household. Ziggs jumps out first, slamming the door behind them. Russ intercepts them before they can dart off inside. John can hear their hushed voices as he and Emma climb out as well. 

John leads the way into the house. Gesturing to the couches in the living room, he says, “Have a seat, Emma. Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee, tea?”

“Uh, water’s great, thanks, John.” She smiles weakly before settling on the ottoman in front of the armchair.

When John returns to the living room, he sees Ziggs seated behind Emma on the armchair. He hands Emma the bottle of water and offers the second one he grabbed to Ziggs. They take it without looking at him.

Settling himself on the couch next to Russ, John leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Now…” He laces his fingers together and rests his chin atop them. “...tell me what happened.”

Ziggs wants to hold out. John can see it all over their face. They won’t look at him still, fiddling with the water bottle.

Emma doesn’t seem to have the same problem. She launches into her story, which Ziggs quickly corroborates with their own anecdotes, though not all of them are relevant to what John wants to know.

“You should have seen it, Pops!” Ziggs says excitedly, “She was gorgeous, a real work of art-”

“Ziggs, we can talk about your super cool logo later,” Emma cuts off impatiently with a roll of her eyes. “So the nighthawks-”

Almost an hour passes before the entire tale comes to a close. At some point, John stood up, fingers itching for a cigarette. Ziggs’ eyes on him, looking entirely too apprehensive.

"So your cannabis plants were magic and the nighthawks that ate them gained sentience. Additionally, the leader of the nighthawks was named Ezekiel and he gained telepathic and telekinetic powers?" John asks as he paces in front of the couch where Ziggs and Emma are sitting.

"... yes sir," Ziggs mutters as they sink into the cushions, their eyes dropping to the floor.

John stops and looks at them seriously. "And at no point you thought to contact me?"

"Oh what and pull you away from important things, like whatever the hell P.E.I.P does?" Ziggs mumbles.

"...what's 'peep'?" Emma asks as she looks between the two of them.

"It's a military branch," John explains, "Special unit P.E.I.P. We call it 'peep'."

Emma stares in disbelief. "... I have never heard of that before."

John smirks slightly and Ziggs groans, annoyed at what they know is about to transpire. "Oh, we're always around. Maybe you'd notice if you took a peep."

Emma blinks.

"That was a joke, Emma,” John informs her, completely deadpan. “And to answer your question, Ziggs, I am on vacation. All you needed to do was call-”

That gets Ziggs on their feet. “Since when? Please tell me, General, since fucking when do I just need to call for you to be around?!” Their voice cracks as they glare at him.

John jerks back, not expecting that. Deflating slightly, he tries to answer, “That’s-”

“Cause that would have been great to know when I woke up on my first day of kindergarten and you were gone! Or when I got that stupid award in soccer when I was nine and you weren’t at the ceremony! Or hell, at my high school graduation when I was onstage getting my diploma and saw you walking out!”

Their chest heaves and their eyes shine with unshed tears. Whether they’re from anger or hurt, John can’t tell. 

He glances back at Russ, who looks unsurprised by the scene unfolding. It feels like there’s a lump in his throat. John tries to swallow around it as he looks at Ziggs again. “Time is-”

“Important, right?! That’s the only thing you ever fucking taught me! Well-” Ziggs yanks down their sleeve, revealing a lovingly worn watch encircling their wrist. “Wearing a watch didn't do me any fucking good, now did it?”

A loud crack sounds off from inside John’s chest. He’s sure he just imagined it but it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way. He stares at the watch on Ziggs’ wrist. The leather on the straps is still in good condition, obviously well tended. He’s sure if he looked on the face of the watch itself, there would be very few scratches.

He knows that watch. His parents gave it to him when he graduated basic training. He was about the same age Ziggs is now. He remembers the inscription engraved on the back.

“ ‘Lost time is never found again,’ ” he recites. There’s another pang in his chest as the realization hits him. He blinks as he feels teardrops roll down his cheeks. “How long-”

“Literally since you gave it to me.” Tears stream down Ziggs’ face. “You gave it to me the night before I started high school.”

 “...that was the night you came out,” John remembers.

“...yeah.” Surprise washes over Ziggs’ face. “You said Grandma and Grandpa gave it to you when they were proudest of you and…” Their voice catches. Ziggs swallows before finally managing to get out the words, their voice warbling slightly, “...and you said you were proud of me.”

John presses the back of his fist to his hand to try to fight back a sob. “I was.” He gulps before letting out a shaky sigh. “...I still am.”

The two of them stare at each other for several moments. Finally, Ziggs takes a small step forward.

That’s all the invitation John needs before he’s rushing over to his child, pulling them into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m sorry,” he manages to choke out as he pats Zigg’s back.

Ziggs doesn’t respond. They just sag against him as they hug him back just as tightly.

Finally, John pulls back. He wipes his tears away from his face with the heels of his hands before reaching up to wipe away the few stray tears on Ziggs’ face.

“Well, I’m proud of you both,” Russ comments with a smile.

Chuckling, Ziggs rubs the back of their neck as they glance over at Emma. “Sorry about that, Perk- are you crying?!”

“No!” Emma snaps even as she rubs her eyes. Her hands fall into her lap and she gives Ziggs a little grin. “We’re all good over here, Ziggy.” Her smile turns into a frown. “Except I don’t have a house now. Or an income. Shit, I really don’t wanna go back to working at fucking Beanies.”

Smiling, John sits on the couch next to Russ. His smile widens when Ziggs sits next to him. “Well, Miss Perkins, from what I’ve heard today, you’re incredibly observant, resourceful, and tenacious.”

“...thank you?” Emma blinks in confusion. “I don’t understand what that has to do with me going back to my shitty barista job.”

A soft chuckle precedes John’s next question. “How would you feel about joining P.E.I.P?”

#john macnamara #russ macnamara #ziggs #hatchetfield universe #tgwdlm #black friday #nightmare time #mr macnamara

[werewolfetone]

I love following different people who subscribe to different very similar yet conflicting leftist ideologies so that my dash sometimes suddenly turns into an active warzone

#jory.txt

[ekholocationn]

find the word tag game

tagged by @meltingchaos !!! thanks again for tagging me >w< this looks like a lot of fun hehe my words were fight, love, growl, and overwhelm! lets dig into my wip draft of cthalia and see what we've got here ============

8 instances of fight

honestly i was expecting this one to come up a lot more considering the story i'm dealing with lmao

“Have you tried to fight her?” Alice suggested.

“And what, turn this land into a warzone?” Shinrin laughed weakly. “We’re in no way prepared for that. But we know it’s coming. Coalmoore and Ashhallow are the only things standing in her way of total control, and Gretel has made it incredibly clear lately that she wants a war to remove her threats.” The wizard placed his elbows atop the table, running his hands up through his hair. “But there are things I need to do before I’m ready to fight her.”

24 instances of love

funny enough, most of these are from the word 'glove' or 'gloved,' would have been nice if i could just search for the word on its own pff

“Because I’m gonna come too~!” Shinrin laughed, running up and latching himself onto one of Hugo’s arms, much to the taller man’s disdain. “Hugo-chi loooves my company, don’tcha?”

“Love is a strong word…” Hugo retorted through his teeth as he tried to pry the giggling wizard off of his arm. “I tolerate your childish behavior simply because our interests align! Nothing more.”

2 instances of growl

surprised i haven't used this one more, gonna have to fix that

The man scoffed, a look of pure disgust upon his face as he tore his eyes away from the pitiful child at his feet. “Regardez où vous allez la prochaine fois,” he growled, turning heel and continuing to walk down the busy street. “Chose sale.”

0 instances of overwhelm

man i feel disappointed in myself for this one XD but hey that just means i have to keep this word on my radar to use later in the story!! so instead here's an instance of 'over' instead just so i have something to put here

“Listen to me carefully, miss Alice,” Hugo spoke with monotone conviction, leaning down slightly to be more eye level with Alice. “You were only allowed past these walls because of your assumed connection to a prophecy and your potential to aid us in stopping a larger threat. However, if you wish to question my authority over my own city… you are aware of the gate’s location.” As he straightened his posture, he moved to turn around and continue walking down the street. “This conversation is closed.”

tagging @cameatslemons for this !!! no pressure if you don't feel up for it fam, but if u do, i'm giving you the words chuckle, dash, flicker, and lie :]

#cthalia snippets #cthalia #original story #writing #my writing #writeblr #tag game #find the word challenge #find the word tag #writeblr tag games

[sassygaykuja]

Idk what i expected the p/athologic fandom to be but people who have probably never been in a fandom that wasnt for, like, a sports anime or a childrens show wasnt it. I knew it wouldnt all be thoughtful essays about the game but, like, a bunch of discourse about what characters are morally correct to ship together and similar common fandom garbage was certainly far off the mark from my lowest expectations

#ginn speaks #im swinging a bat at a hornets nest i know but like #when i finished the game i was so hype to read analysis of it and stuff #and i did see some of that #but in equal measure was the same petty fandom bullshit youd see for like. su or any given moderately popular anime #like i followed a bunch of people and soon unfollowed all of them bc it turned my dash into a warzone about how to properly headcanon artem #another thing was that i seem to be one of the like 5 people who actually played classic #most stuff was for 2 which i understand but like no love for classic #censoring names so they dont show up in tags #idk if that still works

[agentgumsh0e]

placing bets with yoru (yoru x reader)

summary: you win some, you lose some when it comes to yoru

word count: 790+

warnings: very minor mention of injury

notes: this is part of the warm-up series, found on my masterlist (last part in fact!)

“wanna place a bet?” said the riftwalker by your side as he turned to you. the two of you were now waiting for jett to enter the training-room-turned-warzone with killjoy.

“judging by how many creds jett has dropped losing against you, i'd rather not take the chance,” you replied, looking over, “besides, i don't carry creds on me.”

yoru shrugged flippantly with a smirk. “you could lend me your knife. it has a nice design on it. what brand is it?”

you scoffed. “like i know. and only if you're willing to bet your motorcycle. let me take it for a ride if i win.” you thoughtfully paused before continuing, “and you have to take on max-bot.”

“i didn't know we were upping the stakes. i didn't want to mess my hair up today,” yoru said, arching his eyebrows slightly. “but if you insist, i'll add that you have to fight the machine too.”

you matched his haughty grin. “you have yourself a deal. i'll bet on them winning since, unlike you, i actually have faith in my teammates.”

while the doors to the training room opened and jett and killjoy stepped in, yoru’s smirk grew. “i think i've already won.”

-

to your chagrin, he was proven right as killjoy sprinted through the doors with jett dashing closely after her as gunfire sounded behind them. even botty was not spared from the wrath of max-bot.

“so,” yoru started with an outstretched hand, “your knife. and it's your turn.”

you sighed, withdrawing your knife from its sheath and placing it carefully in his hand. in the brief moment that your hands touched, you noted that his hand was quite cold. “sure, sure. i'll miss you, dear knife.”

“i'm just borrowing it. no need to cry about it.” his smirk grew as he inspected your knife, adding sarcastically, “i'll promise to take good care of it.”

mentally cursing him for winning, you made your way towards the back table to select a gun. as you prepared your weapon, jett, who was polishing her knives near the back, asked, “woah! going by yourself?”

you nodded sheepishly. “yup. lost a bet.”

“yeah, i know how that feels. don't let him win, huh?” she smiled, patting your back and wishing you luck.

you decided that you had nothing to lose as you began to step foot into the training room, though you were halted by yoru clearing his throat and calling out with surprising sincerity, “and good luck, (y/n).”

you glanced at him, and it seemed like he was trying to hide a blush as he crossed his arms and ducked his head into his jacket collar. emboldened by his words, you smiled and blushed in spite of yourself, seeing as his eyes would be on you and you only.

-

leaning against the now-closed training room doors, you gasped and tried to catch your breath after coming back from your fight with max-bot. not to your surprise, you didn't win, and you were dreading the mocking you would get from yoru. you could hear it already: “don't tell me that was your all. i've done more with just my hands.”

but actually to your surprise, it didn't come. at least, not as you expected it to have.

from his seat next to the window, you could see that yoru had retained his smirk as he held his amassed credits in one hand and used the other to play around with the pile. coolly, he said, “you almost had it, (y/n). emphasis on almost.”

“yeah, whatever. are you saying that because you feel bad that your pockets are heavier because of me or…?” you responded, slightly out of breath, while you rolled your eyes and set down your gun on the back table.

yoru looked away slightly. “i, uh.”

“you what?” you questioned, eyebrows raised and a hand on your hip.

jett gladly answered for him. “he didn't bet against you this time! you should've seen his face! all wide-eyed for you. really analyzing. seems like he only believes in you and, of course, himself.”

a proud smile crept its way onto your face as you watched yoru’s face cringe with pain, as if the hit to his pride was physical. “really now?” you teased.

his typical scowl replaced his current wince. “くそ, i'll let you ride my motorcycle if you'd stop talking about it.”

you hummed, faking being in deep thought. “hmm, i don't know. can you personally teach me how to ride? or do i need jett to tell me more?”

“maybe i'll teach you, if you'd shut up. you're no use to m—...anyone as roadkill or in casts anyways.” though his moment of genuineness was short, you were fine with him winning, just this one time.

#yoru x reader #valorant x reader #valorant yoru x reader #yoru #valorant yoru #yoru valorant #valorant #valorant headcanons #valorant warm up #jett #valorant jett #yoru valorant x reader

[testingcheats0n]

Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!

Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!

Source: Me

Finished Fanfics:

Multi-chaptered Fanfics:

that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade

Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.

MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!

you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon

Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.

(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)

+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one

Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.

Responsible Forever by SilverWing15

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” /////

“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”

“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”

“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”

“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”

“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.

Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion

Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons

Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent

Sam blinks. “What?”

Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”

Sam is going to be sick.

Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.

Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh

Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable

After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.

It takes a war to bring him back.

+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending

Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream

Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.

The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.

Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices

Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.

Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)

Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.

To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.

This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.

Part of a series, very good.

Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias

Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.

AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.

Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.

I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale

The first time it happens, he barely remembers. The second time is when he realized. The third... Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern

“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”

Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.

This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous

Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?

(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)

Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.

let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun

Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive. Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough. And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life. His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past. He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside. Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people. But trust is how you die.

Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.

Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15

Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.

Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.

He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s. //// OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.

Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.

One-Shots:

Snapped by AmberRunnel

“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”

Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.

“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”

-|-

Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well. There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.

It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.

It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.

the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution

An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.

He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.

You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia

"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."

Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.

Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.

Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.

"Kill me."

Or... In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.

Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.

tomorrow night by meridies

Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.

or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.

It's cute what can I say :]

maple syrup by itisjosh

"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."

"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."

(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)

Children get away from toxic adults :)

Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe

‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’

To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.

Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.

sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa

“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”

Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.

It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.

a matter of time by meridies

Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."

or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.

Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.

That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust

Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.

At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.

Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.

Part of a collection!! Read it all.

spider lily by blue000jay

Wilbur has a body.

The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.

(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)

The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(

Hands tied loose by rabiddog

"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."

-

Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.

But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.

Unhappy ending :(

The serpent underneath by rabiddog

Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)

-

“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”

:((((((((

Damning choices by rabiddog

Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.

Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.

It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.

-

"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog

Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.

He doesn't care at all.

-

"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"

:)

Word of Honour by rabiddog

Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.

-

Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)

Almost canon. F.

Sweet Repentance by rabiddog

Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.

Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.

-

Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.

Tommy dies painfully.

A White Tulip by astervoid

He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.

Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.

lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass

"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.

~

It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.

The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.

Dear Theseus by rabiddog

Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.

-

“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?

Tommy almost wins.

A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman

How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?

The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

How could he have known this would happen?

-

Sequel to A Child's World

Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.

heart of the sea by RyDyKG

Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:

Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.

Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.

He knows, ok? by Ralli

By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.

Very, very cute :)

that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat

Tommy has always been the fighter.

He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.

If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.

---

Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.

Messed up, but with a happy ending.

Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog

Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.

He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.

-

Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.

I love this author if you can't tell.

Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy

The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.

At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.

“Tommy?”

And then Tubbo turns to look at him.

Clingyduo fluff.

sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter

The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.

Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.

SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.

Sad, but cathartic.

REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit

i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST

this is different from what i usually post but it was fun

i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!

What it says on the tin- not really a fic.

Unfinished Stories:

Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):

Over the River Styx by CorpseArt

I feel like we should name him.

There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.

I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.

He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?

I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.

-

Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.

Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.

If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions

“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.” ---- In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.

It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.

Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523

Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.

OR

In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.

Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.

A Talk Long Overdue by penink

Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.

Tommy gets therapy.

Into the Night by Interjection

“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”

They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.

“But why?”

Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.

“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”

“And I don’t want to come back.”

Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.

But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.

---

(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.

A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)

Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.

#dream smp #dream smp fic rec #fic rec #sbi #wilbur soot #tommyinnit

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Platonic!BB x Reader:  Ice Cream

   (Author’s Note:  Some random platonic Bad Batch fluff!  Enjoy!

Literally, I wrote a whole paragraph on Wrecker’s ice cream order)

   You caught a glimpse of familiar gray and red through the frost-patterned windows, a smile spreading across your face.  Suddenly, the unbelievably slow day wasn’t so bad.  Your favorite customers were on their way in, after all.  You smoothed out your apron, straightened the mandatory uniform ball cap on your head, and waited at the front counter.

   The door swung wide open as the largest of the group ducked his head a little to enter through the doorway.  “Hey, ________!” Wrecker greeted.  “How’s it going?”

   “Wrecker!  It’s going alright.  How are you?”

   “Good now that I’m here!”  He guffawed.  The other walked into the store behind him with Hunter in the lead.  He was followed by Tech and then Crosshair, and you were surprised to see an extra trooper among them.

   “Hey guys,” you waved.

   “Hey _________,” they chorused.  The man who came in last looked at you curiously.

   “I see you’ve got a new member of the squad,” you commented, and Hunter nodded as he folded his arms against the counter casually.  

   “_________, this is Echo.  Echo, this is _________.”

   “Nice to meet you,” you said, reaching over the counter to shake his hand.  Only, there wasn’t a hand to shake.  Echo gave you a sheepish look as you switched, instead offering your left hand.  He shook it with a genuine smile.

   “It’s nice to meet you too.  The boys told me all about their favorite place to get ice cream and the friendly face they look forward to seeing.”  He chuckled, lowering his voice a little.  “Especially Crosshair.”  You fought back a giggle as the sniper rolled his eyes.

   “The ice cream here is pretty legendary,” you said.  “As am I.  So, what’ll it be?”

   “I need a minute to see what you have,” Echo replied, stepping back.  Wrecker quickly and enthusiastically took his place right in front of the counter, grinning.

   “I already know what I want!”  He pointed at the item on the menu directly behind you, and you could already guess what it was before even looking.  “With extra sprinkles!”

   You smiled and got to work, pulling on a pair of disposable gloves before grabbing a chocolate-dipped waffle bowl from its container against the wall.  With a scooper, you shoveled out a heaping scoop of vanilla and two scoops of chocolate.  Then, you drizzled on caramel and hot fudge before throwing a dash of peanuts on.  Finally, the treat was complete when you added a mountain of whipped cream and tossed two spoonfuls of chocolate sprinkles on top.  It was sugar in a sugary bowl topped with sugar and more sugar, just how he liked it.  Wrecker was rubbing his hands together, tongue darting out to wet his lips as you carefully handed him the treat.

   “Aw yeah!  Thanks, __________!”

   “No problem.  Who’s next?”

   “I’ll just do a regular chocolate sundae,” Hunter said with that charming smile of his.

   You grabbed a cup, scooped some vanilla ice cream in, and drizzled chocolate sauce on top before handing it over the counter with a spoon.

   “Two scoops of cherry ice cream on a cone, please,” Tech spoke up.

   “Mm, good choice.”  You filled his order, and he adjusted his goggles with one hand as he took the ice cream in the other.  “Next?”

   “Mint chocolate chip on a cone.  Two scoops,” Crosshair said, arms folded.  You shot him a friendly wink before you grabbed his order, and he uttered a “thank you” as you handed it to him.  By that time, Echo was already meeting your gaze.

   “Are the banana splits here any good?”

   “I’ve heard that is the case,” you replied.

   “I’d like to try that then, please.”

   You grabbed a banana from the fridge, quickly shedding the peel and slicing it in half.  You placed three scoops of vanilla in a longer plastic dish before placing the banana halves on each side.  Then, you drizzled chocolate, strawberry, and pineapple on top before adding whipped cream.

   Echo looked impressed by the finished product as you gave it to him.

   “So,” Hunter said, fishing some credits from a pocket in his armor.  “What do we owe you?”

  “It’s on me,” you told him with a smile. The squad chorused their grateful “thank you”s. 

   Hunter’s brows rose.  “You sure?”

   “Yeah, you guys are by far my favorite customers, and I haven’t seen you in a while.  I missed you.”

   “We missed you too,” Tech spoke up.  “As well as the ice cream.”  

   “Yeah!”  Wrecker growled through a mouthful of his sundae.  “Turns out they don’t have any good ice cream places on Felucia.”

   “Oh, is that where you were?” you asked curiously, leaning against the counter, intrigued.

   Hunter gave his brother a warning glance, but ended up shaking his head with a sigh.  “Technically, it’s top secret,” he said.

   “But yes, we were on Felucia,” Crosshair confirmed.

   “Wow, that’s pretty far.  No wonder I didn’t see you for a while.  And they don’t have good ice cream?” you gave a playful smirk.  “That sounds rough.”

   “It was!  Not to mention there’s no ___________ there either,” Wrecker added.  “Although, I’m glad you are safe here.”

   “Yes, selling ice cream in a warzone does not sound...ideal.”  Tech crunched down on his ice cream cone.  You chuckled at the thought.

   The squad ended up spending the rest of the afternoon in your shop.  Fortunately, it had been a slow day, so you didn’t have to step away too many times to serve other customers.  At one point, you had your hat and apron hanging on the back of a chair in the dining area as you and the squad sat around a table talking and catching up.  You liked Echo right off the bat, but after getting to know him better you knew for sure you’d get along.

   Crosshair had lightened up a bit and was leaning back in his chair smirking at an amusing story that Hunter was telling you about the latest mission.  The shop was filled with laughter and good-natured teasing.  Eventually, your shift came to an end.  You hung up your uniform and grabbed your belongings.  Your replacement arrived a little early, so were good to head out.

   “Since we’ve been here for a while now,” Hunter said.  “We were going to get something to eat.  Want to come?”

   “Sure,” you grinned.  “I’m down with wherever.”

#the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #platonic bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch reader insert #star wars the bad batch reader insert #bad batch reader insert #bad batch tech #bad batch wrecker #bad batch hunter #bad batch echo #bad batch crosshair

[phoebe-delia]

Prompt:

Anything dealing with 🍰 cake. At the moment I want some myself.

Damn it now I want cake! Loosely based on a little tradition we had at my summer camp. Enjoy!

The Weasleys took their food very seriously.

It was a way of life, a part of their connection to one another. Molly's dinners brought them to the table at the Burrow, they brought each other chocolate to say "I'm sorry" or "I hope you feel better." Each child got to request a special meal for their birthday, and every Christmas dinner was more delicious and amazing than the last.

But when you're in a large family of rambunctious, loud kids with active personalities and too much energy to contain, there are bound to be messes to clean up--especially concerning food.

And so, when a six-year-old Ginny had felt ignored on her brother Percy's birthday and had promptly thrown a bit of her slice of cake at him, she inadvertently began a Weasley Family Tradition: the Birthday Cake Food Fight.

Every year after that, once everyone had finished their fill of cake, each participant was permitted to take one slice of cake and go "OUTSIDE," Molly reminded them. "I'll not have you getting food all over my furniture!" And once you crossed the threshold to the backyard, you were risking the possibility of cake being smashed in your face.

Which was why, when Draco accompanied Harry to the Burrow for his birthday party, he was rather shocked to see everyone lining up for more cake after they'd eaten.

"What's everyone doing?" he whispered to Harry.

Harry looked confused for a moment before he glanced at the forming line. He bit his lip. "It's a bit of a family tradition. There's a food fight with leftover cake on everyone's birthday."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "How....charming," he said, his voice not hiding his disgust. Harry let himself laugh a little.

"It's really sort of fun" he said. "Lots of fun memories from these fights," Harry's face was wistful, his voice laced with so much fondness, that Draco knew he couldn't sit inside and drink his tea imperiously.

If he wanted to fit in with Harry's family, he'd have to pelt them with cake.

Determined, Draco approached Molly with his plate and asked her kindly for another piece. Raising her eyebrows in amusement, Molly placed a slice of cake on his plate without comment. Draco thanked her and stepped to the side, letting a proud and excited looking Harry get his own ammunition.

They walked toward the door, where the rest of the family was gathered outside. Draco nearly opened the door, when Harry stopped him.

"Just--whatever happens out there, know that I love you," Harry said, nervously biting his lip.

Draco looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "And you say I'm dramatic," he muttered. With that he pushed the door open and stepped outside.

Suddenly, he felt something cold, wet and sticky hit the side of his head, getting all over his hair and even a little into his ear. He shook in disgust and heart a very distinct guffaw.

"Welcome to the warzone, ferret!" the Weasel shouted, dashing away clumsily with a cackle.

Draco turned to Harry, who was stifling a laugh. Draco clenched his fist.

It was on.

#drarry #draco and harry #draco malfoy #harry potter #ron weasley #food fight #prompt: cake #prompt fill #phoebedelia #prompt request #prompt answer

[sabacc]

fyi i am not gone, i am actually online daily, but the spn fandom turned my dash into a warzone and it’s just too stressful to browse for me atm. i need to do a following purge to restore this place as the happy corner that it used to be but this too is a stressful task so i’m procrastinating

a school friend passed away earlier this week and i’ve been shellshocked since. it’s been a bit since we graduated but i think she’s the first of my classmates to go. she was such a health nut, from a family of health nuts, that if i had to pick one classmate who was most likely to live to be 100, it would have been her. i carry some guilt regarding our friendship because she was a bit of a transitional friend in my life, between my formative childhood friend and my final boss high school to adulthood friend, which i think she was aware of, but seeing as i’ve only ever had like five friends total, consecutively, she was still uniquely special to me. we haven’t talked since she transferred in the 10th grade, but like with other former friends, i always felt that rekindling our friendship was just one conversation away. now it’s quite a bit less achievable. i really want to cry but it doesn’t happen, so i just stare into the darkness every night taking inventory of my memories of her. katya, you deserved a lifetime of happiness. fuck cancer.

#txt

[trashytoastboi]

Hello, I love your writing! Would you be able to do one where the reader is a newer straw hat and happens to be a really good at disguises. One day they hear Zoro and Sanji arguing but Zoro ends bringing up the fact he at least has a bounty(so before Sanji got a bounty). The reader casually mentions that they have a few and turns out they’ve actually escaped from Zoro when he was a bounty hunter, because of the many personas they’ve used.

Helloo~ Thank you so much and sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy :3

Askbox : currently open

(Gender Neutral)

Word Count: 750

It was a relatively early start to the day when {Name} was awoken by the starting sounds of an argument between Zoro and Sanji. Surprisingly as one of the new Strawhat crew members they had already gotten used to the daily arguments and fights between the two. Looking out the window towards the sea, they could see it was a sunny day as well as warm, stretching out and placing a hand over their mouth as they yawned, looking over their wardrobe. This follows not the normal line of ‘What do I want to wear’ but rather ‘who do I want to be.’ This was a common line of thought from {Name} whose speciality by nature and tenacity was alters and disguises, along with ambiguity of their real identity.

They entered the kitchen which just so happened to be the heart of the warzone.

“Your bounty isn’t that impressive stupid marimo!” Sanji shouts across the room as he catches the ash from his cigarette that casually hangs out the corner of his mouth.

“At least I have a bounty you idiot love cook!” Zoro retorts

Sanji gets visibly annoyed every time this fact is brought up. “When I get a bounty, I sure as hell know it will be higher than yours!”

{Name} stands in the doorway, eventually slumping against the frame to take in the entertainment, though despite their best efforts an audible snicker escapes their lips. This draws the attention from Sanji and Zoro who look on in annoyance. “What’s so funny?” Zoro deems to ask in an annoyed tone.

“Nothing…” {Name} says with a smirk as they look away from the angered man.

“Do you even have a bounty {Name}?” Sanji asks, resuming the making of breakfast for the crew.

“I do”

“How much is it!” Zoro demands; casually walking over to the counter attempting to swipe some food as Sanji turns his back.

“Which one?” {Name} inquires casually, this draws the interest of both Sanji and Zoro who cease what they’re doing to simply gawk at {Name}’s response…

“Which one you say? How many do you have!?” Zoro yells as {Name} joins him at the counter.

“Well, sixteen that I know of” {Name} swipes some fruit, casually eating it as the two stand dumbfounded.

“If you’re going to lie, make it more believable” Sanji shakes his head realizing this could be {Name’s} idea of poking fun at them.

Reaching into their bag {Name} pulls out a stack of papers, slapping down a total of 16 wanted posters, all seemingly of different people. Zoro and Sanji page through the wanted posters, realizing the familiarity of some of the disguises that {Name} has used to get them out of trouble before and reluctantly give the victory to {Name.}

“Oi…this one” Zoro holds up a poster looking directly at {Name}

“I’m pretty sure I was trying to catch this bastard for stealing my booze” Zoro’s hand rests on his sword as a malicious grin rests upon his lips.

“Ahhh!” Sanji exclaims slamming down yet another poster. “This one! A notorious scumbag that used to dine and dash at Baratie!”

“{Name…}” Zoro and Sanji stated in unison, a heavy and tense aura filled the space… their eyes fixated on the now, very nervous {Name}

Theatrically looking at their wrist {Name} pipes up “Haha! Well would you look at the time…” swiftly scooping up the scattered papers and roughly shoving them into their bag “The sun is high and I better be on my way!” Nervous laughter falls from {Name} as they take a running start through the door.

Sanji and Zoro pursue viciously, near ripping the doorway off as they darted out after them, onto the deck they look around with no sign of {Name}.

“OW! OI LUFFY DON’T JUST SLEEP WHERE EVER YOU LIKE IDIOT!” Zoro exclaims angrily, rubbing his head after tripping over Luffy’s sleeping figure, his snoring resounding against the waves as his straw hat casually rests over his face. They get up and continue their manhunt, coming across a very distraught Luffy.

“ZORO~! SANJI~!” Luffy calls out, tears streaming down his face “I can’t find my hat!” he wails.

“What do you mean? You just had it over your face while you were slee-“ Sanji stops dead in his tracks…Zoro catches on as they return to the deck only to see no more ‘Luffy’ and only a straw hat in ‘his’ place.

{NAME!!!!!!!!!} The two yell in rage whilst a certain someone watches this unfold, snickering away.

#one piece scenarios #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece #Scenario #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #kaizoku #one piece strawhats #mugiwara crew #mugiwara kaizoku #roronoa zoro #zoro #pirate hunter zoro #anon #x anon #SFW #x reader #gender neutral #fluff #scenario #imagines #TrashyToastBoi

[akumanoken]

Act 1 scene 3

Skritch… skritch skritch skritch…

When Souji awoke he was on the chair in the living room near the Christmas tree, and blinked.  How did he get here?  The soldier wasn’t with him either.  He didn’t remember falling asleep here, he was sure he was in his bed…. And how did the tree become… so large?

There was that scratching noise again!! Large rats… the size of humans!! A mischief of rats congregated, talking amongst themselves, and one looked above their heads, pointing and shouting “There he is! Our king approaches!!”

And indeed, a large rat in regal clothes, carrying a piece of cheese, his crown atop his head, hanging on one ear.  “Ah yes, my friends!! Your king has found sustenance this night!! The humans have indeed granted us a bounty!!”  They were scurrying to eat what they could of the cheese, and while the king looked on proudly, their eyes met.  “Ah, and what is this?? Not a mouse, is it?”

Souji squeaked, scuttling back in his chair, and the rat king laughed.  “They certainly squeak like a mouse!! I like this thing!! Bring it to me!!”

The rats were suddenly descending upon him, and he tried to fight back, screaming and calling for help. The rats laughed, easily carrying him to the imposing figure of the king.  “Let me go!! Get away!!”

“....it is a pretty thing, I suppose, not as pretty as a doe rat, but enough for me to perhaps keep it as a pet? We’ll take it with us… wait!!”

Souji dashed out of their grip, screaming for help, trying to fight back the rats who descended upon them, but there were too many of them and only one of him, and so he was lifted, helplessly kicking the air.  “SOMEONE!!! ANYONE PLEASE!!!”

“LET HIM GO!!”  There was a booming voice that stopped everyone in his track, and walking from the darkness, wielding a sword, wearing a silk sling to keep his arm up, was the nutcracker.  “I warn you, Rat King… let him go this instant.”

The king laughed, grabbing Souji for himself and holding him close.  “I found it first, wood man!! Get your own pet!”

“SOLDIER!! Please!!!” Souji cried.  “Help!!”

“Soldiers!!!!!”  Behind him were a small troupe of toy soldiers, ready to do battle, and with a wave of the nutcracker’s sword, they descended on the rats, the nutcracker rushing to the king with his sword at the ready.  

The rat king didn’t have his sword! Souji was in the way!! The only thing he could do was toss him away to grab his sword, and they met blades, fighting viciously.  Souji was suddenly in the middle of a warzone, dodging sword swipes and jostling bodies to get to safety, crawling back onto the chair he was before. 

It seemed like forever, the rats scattering, leaving only the king and the nutcracker, and it was starting to take a toll on the wooden soldier, nursing that injured arm… taking a more defensive approach.  Souji was worried, running toward him.  “Nutcracker!!”

“Stay back!” he said, swords clanging in the air.  “Get somewhere safe!!”  

But… he couldn’t just leave him there like this.  He suddenly got angry.  The rat king was being… much too cocky.  “GET AWAY FROM HIM!!”  He took his shoe, throwing it at the king’s head, disorienting him just enough for the nutcracker to land the decisive blow to his chest.  Gravely wounded, the king had to retreat, leaving Souji and his soldier all alone. 

"Are you alright?"

Eyes met as they both and the same question, and Souji looked down with a small smile, nodding slightly.  “Thank you… you saved me…”

“And in turn, you saved me,” the soldier bowed, sheathing his sword as he righted himself.  “So I am inclined to give you my thanks as well.”

“Indeed!!! You both are quite the pair, aren’t you?? Then again, I felt it when you cried over the prince’s arm…who would have thought that my hunch would go so far as to be correct in every way?”  In the darkness, beaming with pride, Drosselmeyer stood, arms outstretched to them both.  “Come to me children… I have a gift for you both.”

#v: nutcracker #drabble

[blackbutterfliescal]

Your Rainbow Will Coming Smiling Through

A Michael Clifford One Shot

Pairing: Single Dad!Michael Clifford & OC Zoey Clifford

Word count: 4.8K

Rating: Mostly fluff with a side of angst

Requested by: Absolutely not a goddamn soul. I’m just here to be soft n emo, I guess.

Content: 3rd person POV, OC Zoey as Michael’s daughter, major character death (main character’s spouse is dead), side of Malum because I couldn’t help myself

A/N: This is based on Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Cinderella” and it’s lived in my head for a long time. The title is based on lyrics from “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” from Disney’s Cinderella. I don’t normally engage with a lot of dad!sos content for personal reasons, but this idea has lived in my head rent free for far too long so I hope you like it! Big big thank you to @devilatmydoor and @spicycal for encouraging me to get this one done!! It’s only taken me a month lmao

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Feedback is always appreciated! 😊

———

Dinner had been an event. It seemed like it was always an event these days. Pasta noodles and vegetables hung from the walls in the small eat-in kitchen, reminiscent of a Jackson Pollock. Michael let out a deep sigh and ran a hand across his tired face. He’d been so sure that the new recipe would be a hit, but his headstrong three year old had dashed that hope almost immediately. Since quarantine began a few weeks ago, she’d grown bored of staying home and had begun to take her frustrations out on the only other person around. Each day in the modest apartment brought a new challenge but the theme this week was picky eating habits. Michael had tried old favorites, trendy recipes from mommy bloggers, and he’d even let Zoey pick what he bought at the grocery. Honestly, he’d tried anything and everything if he thought it meant she wouldn’t fight him at every meal.

Michael picked up the plates from the table, scraping the few bites that weren’t subjected to his daughter’s wrath into the trashcan by the door. As the dishes landed in the small sink and Michael turned on the tap, he bent forward to rest his forearms on the counter. One glance around the warzone kitchen had tears stinging his eyes. He fought to keep them from falling to no avail, eyes blurring as the droplets got lost in the flowing water and spiraled down the drain.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. We were supposed to be in this together,” Michael’s voice was barely more than a whisper as his thoughts raced and he struggled to compose himself. His voice came out coarse as his frustrated cries hung in the air until it became too thick to breathe in. “It’s been nearly ten months and I’m still no good without you. Zoey’s just like you and I need you here.” He’d hoped setting his thoughts free might ease his mind, but it only made the words weigh heavier on his slumped shoulders. Michael’s pleas were desperate through the sobs. “I wish you were here. You’d know exactly what to do. You always did.” He was barely thirty when he’d been made a widower, carrying the constant grief of a life unlived, seeing a shadow where there should have been a spouse.

He’d been told repeatedly that things would get easier with time but he didn’t think there’d ever be a day where he didn’t need her, didn’t see her in their baby girl. He pulled himself upright with a deep inhale, using the back of his hand to wipe tear stains from his cheeks. Michael couldn’t stop the incessant sniffling brought on by the tears while he continued to take steady breaths through his mouth. He pulled all his focus to wash the few dishes still left from the night and placed them in the drying rack before shutting off the tap. He wrung out the dish towel and began using it to scrub down the mess on the walls. Their dogs seemed to have made quick work of cleaning up the peas that got sprayed across the tiled floor while Michael cleaned up Zoey in the bath and he assumed they’d already made their way to her room.

Through a few small, shaky inhales, he heard a familiar tune playing from the other end of the hallway. After tossing the bits of dinner that he’d pulled off the wall into the bin, he closed the lid and hung the dish towel across the faucet to dry. He quietly made his way to Zoey’s room as the music grew louder, sparing a quick glance in the hall mirror so his disheveled state didn’t alarm Zoey.

He had forgotten that he’d placed an old CD player in her room with several of his old favorites in a small case. Every now and then she liked to listen to his CDs while she played. She usually needed her dad to help her turn it on but it seemed she’d found the play button on her own and begun the same tunes they’d danced to earlier that week. Her curls, still mildly damp from her bath after the messy dinner, bounced around her round face as she spun in circles and giggles fell from her mouth freely. She’d slipped a sparkly dress-up outfit over her pajamas and the matching tiara had almost completely slipped free from her hair. Michael noticed both dogs intently watched from the bed and he let a bittersweet smile tug at his lips while she twirled around the room. Zoey reminded him most of her late mother when she smiled and it made his heart swell, reminding him that she wasn’t completely gone.

When Zoey looked up and noticed him in the doorway, a delighted squeal came from her mouth. “Daddy!! C’mon, I need you! There’s a ball at the castle and I’ve been invited and I need to practice my dancing. Please! Daddy, please!” She wrapped both of her hands around Michael’s fingers and tugged him to the middle of the carpet as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Once she was satisfied with where he stood, she steadied herself and placed her bare feet on top of his shoes, reaching out to grab his other hand. His grip on her was secure as he moved the two of them around merrily, careful not to let her slip from her place on top of his feet. Since losing Zoey’s mom, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let the little moments pass him by. He knew that someday, much sooner than he’d like, someone would steal his little girl’s heart away from him but he wanted to cherish every moment until then. Even if it did include meal-time tantrums.

The upbeat track faded out, replaced by soft guitar chords and a sweetly crooning melody. In one smooth motion, Michael lifted Zoey into his arms and began to sway with her. Her petite hand landed against his warm cheek as she met his green eyes. She studied him for a beat before he rested his forehead against hers and let his eyes fall shut. As Michael began to sing along softly, Zoey pulled away from his face and adjusted herself down to rest against his chest. He nuzzled her close and smiled at the memory that her mother had always found a calmness in the way his voice vibrated through his chest as well.

“Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go. You have made my life complete and I love you so. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

It had been an exhausting evening and it didn’t take long for familiar snores to fill the air from where Zoey rested beneath his chin. He smiled and silently thanked the universe that the last song on the album had been a ballad. Careful not to wake her, he kept a gentle rock in his measured steps as he clicked off the lights through the apartment. Making his way back into her room, he lifted the light blue covers on her small bed while the dogs shifted toward the far end. When he tried to slide her onto the pillow, Zoey’s grip on his shirt tightened and she let out a sleepy groan. Michael shushed her sweetly with a lighthearted laugh and pulled her back into him. He reached down again to pull the covers back further, causing both dogs to move to the floor with a huff, before slipping between them and letting her rest on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. He covered them both and began to hum the sweet melody once more, letting the combination of his voice and heartbeat lull his daughter to sleep again. It wasn’t long before they both drifted off to a much-needed night of rest.

———

With a contented sigh, Zoey placed her new boots on the floor, lining them up to sit below the dress hanging on a singular coat hook on the wall to the right of her closet.

She’d spent nearly every weekend for the past month piled into her dad’s car with her friends, scouring every dress shop in the city. In typical Zoey fashion, she wasn’t interested in an oversized dress with heels that she’d ultimately kick off after the first song played. Somewhere around the fourth store - or maybe fifth? - her friend had shoved her into a fitting room with an understated black a-line they’d picked for her. Though she wasn’t typically a fan of lace or tulle, she knew it was the one she’d spent her time looking for. She knew the lace appliques delicately placed across the neckline would soften up the leather boots and jacket she was already planning to wear.

She pulled one bare foot underneath her and plopped down on her bed, queuing up a lowkey playlist and admiring the outfit she’d put together. She could admit that it was nice to check the prom dress off her to-do list but the centerpiece of the outfit was her mom’s vintage leather jacket. Her dad had gifted it to her years ago, telling her about how excited her mother had been to save up for a real leather jacket and how she’d shopped through every store in the city to find the right one. Not unlike the way he’d seen Zoey searching for the right prom dress.

Of course, Zoey didn’t have many memories of her mom, except for the stories Michael had told her over the years. Somehow, things like her mother’s old leather jacket, still in great condition, made her feel connected to the woman she barely remembered. Zoey often wondered how she could miss someone she couldn’t remember on her own. Maybe some of it was secondhand grief from years of watching her father. Either way, she always felt too nervous to actually wear her mom’s jacket, afraid she’d do something to ruin it, wrecking the already thin tie she had to her. While Michael had always done his best to fill both parental roles, some problems were bigger than he could handle alone. On difficult nights when she needed a mom, Zoey dug the jacket out of the closet and just held it close, hoping to find some guidance from whatever cosmic forces were out there. Now, she’d decided, prom was as good an occasion as any to actually wear it out. It was a big night and she wanted to feel both of her parents there.

As she picked up her laptop to tackle the last few assignments of senior year, Michael’s knuckles rapped on the open door that led to her room. The sound pulled her from her reverie and she glanced up to see her dad in the doorway. Michael, mid-40s, donned large wide-rimmed glasses and his hair was cut short around his face. His natural shade had lightened quite a bit over the years while the ever-present scruff on his chin had taken on shining grey tones. He smiled fondly, taking in the outfit Zoey had put together as it hung on the wall before turning to meet her expectant gaze. Her smile beamed as she questioned, “Do you like it? Do you think Allison will like it? Her dress is baby pink so we’re going to be the least coordinated couple there. But I guess that’s fitting.” A small laugh fell from her mouth as she looked back at the all black ensemble. Michael still heard Zoey’s mom in that laugh and felt a pull in his chest seeing that jacket again. He nodded in response before pointing to the quilted leather. “She’d be so proud of you, you know?” His voice held a tinge of sadness amidst the pride he held for his baby girl.

“No!! No, no no. Don’t cry. You know that only ends with both of us crying!” Zoey slid the laptop to the side and made her way to the man occupying her door frame. He let out a sniffing laugh and shaky breath as she wrapped her arms around him while burying her head in his broad chest. Michael rested his head on top of hers before placing a small kiss on top of her hair. He’d always made sure that she felt safe with him. No matter what was going on elsewhere, it was the two of them versus the world. But damn it all if he didn’t wish that she had her mom here to see the amazing young woman she’d become.

Zoey’s playlist continued quietly and Michael began to rock back and forth as she relaxed into his arms. He knew moments like this would only get harder to come by in a few short weeks. She’d grown up in the blink of an eye, right in front of him. He wanted to keep her close as long as he could. It didn’t matter that dinner was downstairs, getting colder by the minute. Slowly, “Moon River” crept through the speakers and Zoey pulled her head back. “Wait a minute. This is the song we have to dance to,” she whispered. The smile on her face shifted from sweet to teasing and Michael braced for whatever quick-witted remark she had for him. “We gotta work on your moves, old man!” Michael rolled his eyes in response and let out a sarcastic laugh at her words. “Dad, the prom is just one week away and we need to practice our dancing. Please, daddy, please.”

It was custom that each senior waltzed with a parent, or some other guardian, at the very beginning of the prom. Families were only allowed in during this dance and would be ushered out after every group of seniors had taken their turn. Michael and Zoey had been at every after school rehearsal for the past 6 weeks, trying desperately to learn the choreographed steps. Zoey had mastered the box steps with ease. The turning box took a few more tries, but she got it eventually. Michael had taken even more practice though, and she was determined they would perfect the steps before they were in front of all her friends. He didn’t object, not wanting to embarrass her. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Michael stepped further into his daughter’s room, helping her push a few things out of the way as she started the song over and stood tall in her ballroom posture. Michael took small steps but still managed to run into a few things as Zoey coached him through the routine. They made it through to the end of the song unscathed and upright, counting that as a victory.

As Zoey let her rigid posture drop, Michael placed both of his hands on each side of her head, pulling her close again to place another kiss on top of her head. “We’ve got this, Z,” he reassured her. She snaked her arms around to his back as the next song on her playlist began. They stood still in the silence as a familiar voice began to croon through the air. “Do you remember that I used to sing this to you to get you to sleep? It always did the trick after a rough day,” Michael mused as his hands brushed over her hair, reminiscing on days gone by. She leaned back to look up at her dad’s face before answering. “Of course I do! Why do you think I listen to it so often?”

The greying scruff on Michael’s chin made her giggle as it tickled her forehead where he left a kiss. “My sweet girl,” he mused as they began to sway again. She hummed along with the melody before Michael joined in, smooth voice lilting over the recording.

“Love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart. For it’s there that I belong and will never part. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For my darling, I love you and I always will.”

In true Clifford fashion, Zoey’s stomach rumbled through the otherwise quiet bedroom as the next verse began. It sent both of them into a fit of laughter, reminding Michael of the reason he came up to her room in the first place - the dinner waiting downstairs. Zoey stopped her playlist before they made their way to the kitchen, voicing their concerns that the cats had jumped up on the counter to help themselves.

———

Zoey couldn’t help the smile stretched across her full cheeks as she parked her car in front of her father’s home. As she reached for the door handle, her free hand lifted the back of her fiancée’s palm to her cherry chapstick-covered smile and she placed a series of small kisses. Allison’s warm eyes met Zoey’s gaze with a blissful smile of her own before she spoke hesitantly. “The last planning session before everything is in motion. Ready for all the questions from Mr. Wedding Planner in there?” Zoey’s eyebrows quirked up and she reached behind the seats to pull out her planning binder. “Ready if you are!” They stepped out of the car and laughter followed them through the front door to announce their arrival.

The butterflies in Zoey’s stomach hadn’t diminished even slightly since the moment Allison got down on one knee during family game night. Though if Zoey honestly thought about it, the butterflies had been there since she worked up the nerve to ask Allison to prom as her girlfriend. She hoped she’d have the flutter in the pit of her stomach as long as she had air in her lungs. 

The proposal had been intimate and thoughtful and sweet and perfectly them. Allison had enlisted Michael’s help, along with his long-term partner Calum, to spell out “marry me” on the game board during Scrabble. The three of them had needed to work together and it had taken a couple rounds of play for the right letters to show up. Zoey was so engrossed in the game that it took her a few beats to piece it together, even as Allison dropped to the floor in front of her while Michael tried to keep the happy tears from falling. Since then, the days had been speeding by at a dizzying pace and she felt like the big day would sneak up on her if she blinked too slowly.

They made their way through the home, cast in an amber glow from the autumn sunset, and found Michael and Calum putting the finishing touches on their typical Tuesday night dinner. Michael had always been a good cook but he’d thrown himself into more complex recipes with the extra time he had in his early retirement. The delicious aroma wafted through the open air to greet the brides-to-be as they exchanged familiar greetings with the gracefully greying men, arms held open expectantly. 

“I see someone came prepared,” Calum teased, pointing in the direction of Zoey’s wedding planning binder. “I learned from the best,” she winked in return. Calum had earned his living as an event planner before retiring to spend his days with Michael and he’d been all too eager to help out. Sometimes he was a little overzealous, especially when it came to flowers, but neither bride worried over it. He had thirty-something years of experience and they would put his expertise to good use as long as he wanted to help.

“Well? What are you waiting for? You know better than to be shy around here - dig in!” Michael’s cheerful lilt brought out a chorus of laughter as the four of them began to pile their plates high with his savory creations.

Dinner together was never dull; someone always had a story to tell. Allison was gunning for a big promotion at work while Zoey worked hard to manage the small business she started last year. Michael told of all the highs and lows in his cooking adventures that week and how he’d befriended a neighborhood cat that had appeared on their porch. Calum had warned him not to feed it but eventually found the bowl under the front steps that he’d been sneaking scraps into. In the years they’d lived together, Calum made the local farmer’s market a habit and that week Michael had finally gone with him. He should have known Calum would have everyone wrapped around his finger. He couldn’t help his amazement at the way Calum charmed all the vendors into some sort of special sale for his produce, flowers, or baked goods. He noticed that Calum was the only one who seemed to be privy to these discounts. Michael couldn’t even be upset though because Calum had gotten a beautiful sunflower bouquet just for him. Calum would never admit that he just wanted to know he still had it - whatever it was.

With four sets of hands, clean up happened quickly before the wedding binder was sprawled across the table. They spent the next few hours pouring over choices for every imaginable detail. Calum had helped them create a checklist and prioritize important items and extremely time sensitive details. They managed to cross off a few more items on the checklist before Michael decided it was time to bring out dessert - apple pie with the tart apples from the “Apple of My Pie” stall that Calum had recommended at the farmer’s market.

When she was sure Michael was out of earshot, Zoey leaned across the table to whisper to Calum. “So when are we doing this for you two?” she asked as she threw a glance at her dad’s back. Allison did her best to control her laughter at the obvious prying. Calum simply waved her off with a smile, “We’ve been together, what, twelve years? Just after you started college? I think he’s stuck with me at this point, ring or no ring.” Zoey’s inquisitive stare didn’t falter at Calum’s light humor so he continued to entertain her question with a more serious tone. “You know… we’ve talked about it but he always said he couldn’t remarry after losing your mom. I always thought I wanted a wedding, even just a small one for friends and family, but it’s one thing I won’t push him about.” Calum’s eyes were filled with adoration as they settled on Michael’s back where he stood carefully slicing the pie. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll take this in whatever way makes him comfortable, in whatever way he’ll have me.”

When he turned back to face her, to see if his answer satisfied her curiosity, her eyes were brimming with emotion and concern immediately painted his features before she spoke. “I always thought maybe he didn’t remarry because of me, because he didn’t want me to feel left behind or something. And maybe that’s selfish or strange. But I couldn’t be more thankful that he has someone as caring and thoughtful as you, Cal.” Her voice had a slight rasp to it as she swallowed down her overwhelming joy. She punctuated her sentiment by placing her hands over one of his on the table. As he sandwiched her hands between his, he told her how lucky he felt to get to spend the rest of life loving Michael and that he didn’t need a marriage certificate to do that. Allison placed a grounding hand across Zoey’s back as they all inconspicuously sat back into their seats just in time for Michael to return with apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream. If he suspected anything about the conversation between his daughter and his partner, he didn’t let on as they continued to make their way down the wedding checklist between delighted mouthfuls of pie.

The hours passed as they sat around the kitchen table picking out scripts for the invites, flowers for the ceremony, centerpieces for the reception, and favors for the wedding party. Allison stretched her arms over her head, soliciting several put off responses at the loud cracking noise her spine made. “Ew, yourself,” she joked as she rose from her spot at the table. As she moved toward the living room, she turned over her shoulder to suggest that they all take a break from hunching over the pages of options laid out in the binder. Everyone else seemed reluctant, not wanting to lose the momentum they’d already built up. Allison turned her back to them and made her way to the record player next to the couch. She carefully pulled a sleeve from the shelf and let it begin spinning before making her way back to the table where the others still sat. 

As she passed through the doorway, the beats of “Heartbreak Hotel” sounded through the room and she swung her hips wide with the best Elvis impression she could manage. The overstated moves earned a laugh from her fiancée and wolf whistles from the two men seated across from her. Allison pulled Zoey from her seat and shimmied them back into the living room for a dance break, despite Zoey’s protests that they still had several items to work through. Allison assured her that’s why she needed a dance break and that they’d get back to it as soon as the record needed to be flipped over. To Allison’s complete delight, Zoey caved and danced with her until the bluesy tune faded into a familiar ballad.

Zoey turned toward the dining room to find that Calum and Michael had followed to watch them from the safety of the door. The two men stood as if they were made to fit together. Michael’s head rested perfectly on Calum’s shoulder and his hands splayed softly across Calum’s stomach under Calum’s hands. Even so, Zoey knew she still had her dad wrapped around her finger after all these years. She put on the biggest puppy dog eyes she could manage and stretched out her arms before pleading with him, “The wedding’s still six months away, but I need to practice my dancing. Please, daddy, please.” His sheepish smile was bright in the low lamp light as he maneuvered around Calum. Michael placed a kiss to Calum’s smiling cheek as he squeezed through the door frame beside him. “You know I’ll never turn down a dance with my best girl,” he remarked as he took her in his arms. Calum, in turn, made a large sweeping motion as he bowed to Allison. “May I please have this dance?” Always a drama queen in every group. Allison laughed and took his hand, letting him lead her across the small room in an effort not to intrude on Zoey and Michael’s sweet moment.

Michael hummed along to the melody and his voice vibrated through his chest under Zoey’s head, sweeping a sense of nostalgia over her. “Dad?” she questioned as she lifted her head to look into his pale green eyes. They’d become even more pronounced over the years as the color faded from his hair, though he tried to hide behind the wide-rimmed glasses that stopped just above his full cheeks when he smiled. His eyes were slow to open and he only offered a hum in response. “What if we made this our father-daughter dance at the reception? I know it’s not a typical choice, but it would just mean a lot to me and -” Michael’s lips landed soft against Zoey’s forehead with a smile, immediately soothing her rambling mind. “I would love that, Z.”

Not trusting her mind and voice to work with her, Zoey simply nodded and nuzzled her head back into Michael’s chest, hugging him as close as possible. Michael’s smile grew as he tossed a glance across the room to where Allison and Calum swayed casually, lost in some giddy conversation if their expressions were any indication. With a contented sigh, he placed another kiss on top of Zoey’s curls. His voice was soft at first, only loud enough for Zoey to hear, but then it grew just enough to be heard over the record player as he sang.

“Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine. I'll be yours through all the years, ‘til the end of time. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

He couldn’t help watching Allison and Calum as they looked over fondly. Michael thought of all the times it was just him and Zoey against the world. Everything had changed so much since he lost her mom. He couldn’t believe how their little family had grown over the years and he was so proud of the life they’d made and the love they all shared. Michael tried not to let his emotions get the best of him, but he couldn’t help the crack in his voice as the last lines closed out.

———

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#my writing #michael clifford #michael clifford one shot #michael clifford fluff #michael clifford blurb #calum hood #malum #malum fluff #malum blurb #malum one shot #it only took me nine years and im sure it'll flop but at least it doesn't live in my head anymore lmao alsdkjfhlakjh #does this count as malum??? kind of???