#boosington
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can u tell i lov blue team....
#red vs blue#rooster teeth#rvb#agent washington#david washington#wash rvb#boosington#lavernius tucker#my art#michael j caboose#tucker rvb#caboose rvb#blue team rvb#AGAIN NOT SHIPART i just get the grind#tuckington#wtf is caboose and tucker#CUCKER???#Taboose...#idk lmk
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So I penned and colored it I love it so much :)
#rvb#red vs blue#washingboose#omegaverse#boosington#agent washington#michael j caboose#rvb caboose#caboosington#bear's art
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okay so how about we don’t leave comments on a fic that say that shipping one character with anyone is inherently shipping crack when the author clearly doesn’t see it that way and when saying that is honestly pretty gross??
i do not appreciate getting a comment on my tuck boosington fic saying that shipping caboose with people is “crack”, thanks
#i'm getting back to the point where i'm dreading comment emails bc i've had 3 different comments that are just#ignorant or say something they reALLY didn't need to say lately#they speak
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Sing For Me
Summary: “How come when I don’t want to train, you yell at me, but when he doesn’t want to train, you let him drag us into a karaoke night instead?” (Merry Christmas Krys!! :D)
Rating: swearing
Words: 990
Pairing: Boosington
“Wash, remind me again why we’re doing this?”
“You know why Tucker.”
“Just… explain it to me again.”
“Because Caboose has been really upset lately and if he wants to do other stuff instead of training tonight, then we’re going to do them.”
“How come when I don’t want to train, you yell at me, but when he doesn’t want to train, you let him drag us into a karaoke night instead?”
“Just shut up Tucker.”
Tucker grumbled as he continued to plug random wires into the back of the sound system. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but he knew that it looked like he was doing something.
Wash himself wasn’t even entirely sure why he was going along with what Caboose wanted. Sure the poor guy had been sad a lot lately, but Wash wasn’t usually the companionate type. Maybe it had something to do with the way that Caboose had come to him, asking him quietly and unsure. He was almost sure that the younger soldier had probably asked Church before, but the Church that Wash knew would have said no. Wash shook his head, breaking out of his musings to go over and fix the machine that Tucker had abandoned.
The setting up took the better part of an hour, but they managed to get it working early in the evening. Caboose seemed fairly excited when he walked into the main room and he saw the set up.
“You did everything!” He jumped up and down for a moment. “It’s all perfect! Now we just have to wait for everyone else!”
Tucker and Wash shared a glance. “Everyone else?”
Caboose nodded feverishly. “Yup! I invited the Reds over when Wash said yes!”
“You said that he could bring the Reds over?”
“No! No, I never said that!”
Caboose blinked at him. “Well… They’re already here…”
Wash turned around to see 4 shapes walking through the area between the bases. He sighed, rubbing his temples.
“Should I tell them to go?”
He looked up at Caboose, whose voice had changed slightly. The younger soldier looked truly upset that Wash was mad at him, and Wash sighed again.
“No Caboose. They can join us.”
The blond looked like he had won the lottery, smiling widely and running out to great the Reds. Tucker looked at Wash, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.
“He really has you wrapped around his finger doesn’t he?”
“Shut up Tucker.”
-----
3 hours, 3 six packs of beer and 5 horrible singers later, they were about ready to pack up for the night. Wash and Sarge had both opted out of singing, and Simmons had only done so after being force-fed 2 beers by Grif. Tucker had only sung twice, and he hadn’t actually been terrible. Donut had really tried, but stopped going up when Grif threatened to beat him to death if he sang one more Britney Spears song. Caboose had sung everything from It’s a Small World to Thunderstruck, and while he had an impressive knowledge of lyrics, his voice was nothing to be proud of. Grif had sung three times, only once he had a 6 pack in him himself, and he wasn’t terrible either.
Wash was about ready to send the Reds back to their base when a hand landed on his arm.
“Why didn’t you sing Agent Washington?”
Wash blinked at Caboose. “I don’t sing Caboose.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Just drop it Caboose. I’m not singing.”
Caboose looked on the verge of tears then, and Wash cursed himself for his problem, which was the fact that maybe the younger soldier did have him wrapped around his finger. He stood, trudging towards the machine and glaring as Donut and Grif both sat themselves down again. He scrolled through, finding a song that he used to listen to a lot.
The song started and Wash started to sing as quietly as he could get away with. He kept his eyes closed, not really wanting to see the laughing faces that were sure to be there. He couldn’t hear anything, but he kind of guessed that they were just either being polite, in Simmons and Donut’s case, or laughing too hard to make noise, like Grif and Tucker. He was at least happy that he chose a short song, because the 2 and a half minutes of torture was enough.
He ended the song with a long note, shutting off the player before opening his eyes. His gaze traveled over a sea of shocked faces and he cringed.
“Ok, I know I don’t sing well, but will someone please say something?”
Donut scoffed. “Oh yeah Wash. You can’t sing well at all. That wasn’t incredible in the least.”
Wash blinked at him. “Was that sarcasm?”
Donut rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. “Yes Wash, it was sarcasm.”
“Seriously dude, why did you only just sing now?”
Grif was looking at him, confused. Simmons had a similar look on his face, Tucker was just looking like he had just realized that his dog could fly, but Sarge’s expression was peaceful almost.
Oh wait no. He was just passed out.
Wash shook his head, helping Grif and Simmons gather up their commanding officer, sending the Reds on their way.
“Ok, well now that I’m scared for life, I’m gonna go to sleep.”
Wash rolled his eyes, wishing Tucker a good night as he watched Donut and Simmons stagger and sway towards their base.
“Agent Washington?”
Wash turned around. Caboose was standing there, hands in the pockets of his sweat pants. “Yes Caboose?”
“Thank you for all this. It meant a lot.”
Wash smiled. “Of course.”
Caboose shuffled his feet, glancing at Wash, and then to the floor.
“What is it Caboose?”
Caboose looked back up at him. “Would you maybe sing me to sleep?”
That’s where I’m going to stop cause yeah.
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Flower Crowns
Pairing: Caboose/Washington (Boosington)
Rating: G
Summary: That was the sweetest kiss. Of all time.
Agent Washington grew up with a lot of female friends. Lots of those friends took delight in making flower crowns out of the assortment of flora that grew in the schoolyard, and Wash, being the unique individual he was, often made flower crowns with them. Guilty pleasure, he figured. So, when they got semi-settled in from being thrust into a new location (damn faulty aircraft), he was hit by a wave of nostalgia from the flowers that grew in the area.
Later, when he was almost absolutely sure no one was looking, he sat down in one of the more foliaged areas and began his work. Tying the flower stems together was a task for the patient, but he had done a lot of waiting in the past. He almost crushed the flowers when he heard a familiar, annoying voice.
“Agent Washingtub, Agent Washingtub!” yells Caboose, careening down the hill towards Wash. For a moment, Wash wonders just how Caboose graduated basic with how loud and uncontrolled he is.
“What Caboose,” he says sternly, trying his best to quickly hide his ‘project’.
“Uhm...Tucker kicked me out of the base,” mumbles Caboose. He drops down next to Wash.
“Caboose, I’m busy. Why don’t you go bother the Reds or something,” He says dismissively.
Caboose pulls his knees up to his chest, picking his words slower than normal, “The Reds don’t really like me that much, other than Sarge and Donut.”
Wash sighs quietly and decides that once Caboose has a set choice of action, he’s not going to deviate from it, and relents. ‘What harm could Caboose really do,’ he thinks to himself, ‘I doubt he really has a concept of the whole ‘masculinity’ thing, anyway.’ He takes out the somewhat crumpled flower crown from it’s ‘hiding spot’ behind his back and begins his work where he left off.
“What are you making, Agent Washingtub?”
“It’s called a flower crown, Caboose. My friends and I used to make them all the time back in our grade school days.”
“Could you teach me?” asks Caboose. He rubs his hands together, a show of nerves.
“I dunno, Caboose, I have a lot of patience, but not that much.” He says. He probably wouldn’t mind teaching anyone else, but this is Caboose, and the anyone else would actually be competent enough to learn how to do it.
“Wash,” says Caboose. He curls into himself more. “Do you think I’m dumb?”
This makes Washington pause. Every fiber of his being is telling him to say ‘Yes Caboose, you are the dumbest form of life that has ever made it past childhood’, he’s definitely stressed enough to, what with Carolina and Church missing, but he doesn’t. He’s not that much of an asshole. “No Caboose, you’re not dumb, you’re just not the sharpest tool in the shed.”
Caboose nods. He unfolds slowly, stretching out and leaning back to watch Wash work. He’s neither surprised or upset, accepting of the fact that Wash is probably right. Wash hasn’t been wrong since he stopped lying to them.
After Caboose stops talking, Wash goes back to focusing on his flower crown, working silently. The whole time, his thoughts are running everywhere while his hands are working. ‘Where could Carolina and Church have gone? What’s even left out there for them? How are we going to get out of this place, and what’s going to happen afterwards?’ He takes a break from his work to look up from his lap, his neck aching slightly from being in the same position for so long.
Caboose looks away from Wash. He stares off into the place that he’d already decided was home in his head. Part of him was happy that it was cooler than Blood Gulch was. While he’s thinking about home, he remembers an old song he used to sing a lot. “But I’m going to be here until I’m nothing but bones in the ground so quiet down,” Caboose sings quietly.
Washington hears what Caboose is singing, and he lets out a tiny laugh. ‘Isn’t that the truth,’ he thinks. He’s almost done with his little crown, and he’s glad Caboose wasn’t poking and prodding him for answers to stupid questions the whole time.
“Agent Washingtub, do you think they miss us?”
“What do you mean?” He asks, “ Who?”
“Church and Miss Carolina.”
He doesn’t have an answer. “ I don’t know, Caboose. Maybe.”
“Okay Agent Washingtub. I think I’m going to take a nap now,” mumbles Caboose. He flumps down, closing his eyes.
Wash doesn’t say anything. There isn’t a need for words right now. He finishes his project and sets it aside. His mind is way too busy to take a nap, so he decides to make another flower crown. To keep him busy, he tells himself.
Eventually Wash finishes the other crown. Caboose barely stirs during that time, he could probably sleep through anything. Wash rolls his eyes at Caboose, nudging him awake with his foot. “You need to get up, or else Sarge might accidentally run you over tomorrow morning.” He taunts.
Caboose stirs at the threat, and stands up groggily. “Agent Washingtub,” he whines, “I was having a good dream about me and Sheila playing in the old base!”
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty more like it,” says Wash. He picks up both crowns. He places one on Caboose’s head, making sure to ruffle up his hair in the process.
Caboose’s eyes go comically wide and he cracks a huge smile.
“Come on,” murmurs Wash. He puts an arm around Caboose’s shoulders to steer him towards their home. Caboose stops abruptly at the halfway point of their walking. He turns towards Wash, threads his fingers in Wash’s hair, and plants a quick kiss on him.
Wash’s eyes widen before he just smiles softly. That was the sweetest kiss. Of all time.
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uncoloured wash and caboose doodle
#agent washington#rooster teeth#red vs blue#rvb#david washington#michael j caboose#caboose rvb#wash rvb#shannon mccormick#washboose#boosington#wtf is their ship name#not shipart but i understand the grind#my art
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HII U SAID CABOOSE REQUEST SO HERE ARE SOME (u can pick whichever one u like)
Caboose and Carolina training/sparring/jogging together
Caboose coloring with junior
Caboose and Donut having a sleepover
Caboose hugging wash and demanding his attention when wash is trying very hard to be serious™️
sorry i heard caboose hug wash and my brain shut off... my favourire boys....
#red vs blue#rooster teeth#agent washington#rvb#david washington#boosington#michael j caboose#caboose rvb#wash rvb#my art#washingboose
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david "im rusty" washington playing guitar/singing to help caboose sleep (specifically thinking of best girl by trocadero). After boose falls asleep wash rubs the back of his hand (caboose sleeps like a plank ime) and caboose grabs ahold of his hand so wash sits next to the cot until he eventually lets go. (sometimes wash'll end up sleeping at the edge of the bed and inevitably gets dragged in and used as a teddy bear)
#red vs blue#rooster teeth#rvb#agent washington#david washington#boosington#washingboose#michael j caboose#caboose rvb#wash rvb#/p to me but i understand the grind#caboose wash shippers come get some food#i associate best girl w caboose a lot idk why ITS JUST HIM OKAY !!!#headcanon#hc
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stray thought
So I was in the middle of typing up more of my story and a stray thought hit me so I had to catch it.
Caboose: "Washingtub!"
Washington: "Why are you calling me that?!"
Caboose: "Because being with you is like soaking in a hot tub and it feels so good!"
Washingtub: ...*strangled happy cat noises*
Totally using this somewhere in my story...
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Perfect For Me Chapter 5
Flabbergasted, that’s the word and both soldiers looked it. “That’s crazy!,” the one on the left exclaimed before catching himself, he tried taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “I, I mean I’ve never seen an omega like...you before...”as his face turned red from embarrassment.
The soldier on the right cleared his throat loudly to cover for the other man, “We’ll get you the right suppressant, once we get everything else ready,” he assured Caboose as he opened the door to the communal showers. He jerked his chin towards the showers, “Jones, check inside make sure nobodies in there already,” he said to the still red-faced man who nodded quickly and went inside.
He came back out a few moments later he was noticeably less red this time using the time checking the room to get his surprise under control. “It’s clear,” he stated as he moved to guard the door from the outside. Michael smiled saying his thanks as he went into the room closing and locking the door behind him.
His escorts just looked at each other briefly shaking their heads in wonder the two of them were both betas and couldn’t react to pheromones like alphas and omegas did, so they had guessed based on Caboose’s size that he must be an alpha. But, they had been wrong he was an omega and even crazier he was bigger than most alpha. The military was full of mostly betas with some alphas usually in special ops or commanding type positions. Betas make 90 percent of the population as a whole. The other 10 percent is alpha and omega at 8 percent and 2 percent respectively. Meaning omegas were generally considered precious because there were not many, not all alphas could have one. This used to cause trouble but, with laws guarding their rights and the general population considering them special more often than not omegas are safe in today’s society. Still though they never joined the military, except this guy apparently.
“Murphy, who do you think would want an omega that scary?”, Jones spoke in a low voice so only his companion could hear.
“I don’t know, but I’m gonna go grab him the right drugs, I’ll be right back don’t let anybody go in there. We don’t need something going wrong while he’s our responsibility”, Murphy stated as he turned to leave.
Caboose took off his suit and placed it in the cleaning pod upon closing the glass door the pod automatically started fogging up indicating it’s steam clean cycle. He placed his duffle bag on the standing sink platform. Pulling out one of the towels and setting it off to the side, he got his soaps and the luffa which he smiled to himself about happy to see the little hedgehog face that was sticking out of it. Taking his things he went to the showers turning it to the hottest setting. He stood there for a few minutes, just enjoying the hot water before doing anything else.
The augmentation process scaring ran down his spine from the base of his neck where the neural implant was down where it split three ways. Two lines going down the backs of his arms, the other continued down the spine then splinting again to go down both legs. His front had two lines coming down from his shoulders to meet and become one line down his sternum to his navel before stopping. They were cut with surgical precision as perfect as could be there was no over scaring just a pale straight cut perfectly lined with evenly spaced stitch marks, just like the ones on his face.
The water ran down his back over the scars relieving some of the tightness from the scar tissue. This was one of the reasons he liked hot showers, he also really liked baths, but almost nobody ever had one big enough for him. He shook himself from his thoughts and got to work washing himself. He shut the water off not to long after. He towel dried, brushed his teeth, and hair and even shaved as quickly as he could he didn’t want to keep the nice soldiers waiting after all.
Everything they had given him in the bag was blue, ‘Must be a blue team thing,’ he thought. When his under suit had finished cleaning he put it on, packed up his bag and met Murphy and Jones at the door once again. Where Murphy promptly handed Caboose a new bottle of pills this time for omegas, again having the emergency inject-able kind rubber banded to the side but instead of just one there were three. ‘Heat Suppressants’ was written on the label in a pretty cursive font with pink lettering.
“Thank you”, Caboose said as he stuffed it into his bag. “Do you want to other bottle back”, he asked as he stared to dig around his bag for the previous bottle.
“No, you can keep it, you know just in-case,” Murphy answered.
“Okay, thank you again,” Caboose said as he stopped digging in his bag and zipped it back up and smiled at them. They couldn’t help but smile back. Jones nodded “Your welcome, now lets get you back to the Pelican,” he said as they went back. The Pelican was all ready to go. Caboose found his armor was all done and dry. Jones, helped him putt the armor back on as a few were tricky to get back on all by yourself. Caboose pulled his helmet over his head and it suit re-pressurized with a hissing sound. The suit was now no longer a dull OD green, but blue and Michael liked it a lot. He gave a thumbs up the painter who returned it with a smile. The Spartan looked back at the Pelican in front of him, tank strapped to the belly.
“You know I always wondered, If you have a ship big enough to carry a tank, why not put guns on the ship and use it instead?,” Caboose asked no one in particular.
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Perfect For Me Chapter 4
Caboose looked at the spray can he was holding, it was Standard Issue Blue, at least that’s was the paint can said anyway. He cocked his head slightly after reading it, then looked down at the soldier who had the rest of the cans.
“What’s this for?”, Caboose asked.
“Command didn’t tell you?”, the smaller soldier questioned, but didn’t wait for Caboose to reply and just answered straight away. “Your being assigned to Blue Team as their new recruit but we don’t have any armor in your size,” he paused looking the Spartan up and down rather pointedly. “So we’ll have to paint your armor blue”, he finished
Caboose nodded his head in understanding and then looked around the hanger taking in his surroundings. As he was mildly unconscious when his was brought here he didn’t recognize much, then he spotted an armor rack set up in such a way to make an improvised paint booth. He began walking towards it as he walked he began unlatching and removing the hard points of his armor on his arms. Upon making it to the racks he arranged his armor into the appropriate places as he removed more of the plating. After the armor is removed he stood there in just the under-layers of the suit.
Although he was less intimidating, only by a little bit. The former Spartan was still huge the under-suit not leaving much to the imagination, sculpted muscle-lines plainly visible. His hair was still shorter due to Spartan regulations, it was a dark chocolate brown with a slight wave to it. His stubble was bordering between stubble or beard but grew sparsely most just on the chin and sides of his face. His eyes were a steel-gray blue. There was a semi-circular chunk missing out of the left ear presumably from a bullet and two straight scars on his face. One split the right brow in two then jumped over the eye and continued down the right cheek before stopping midway. The other was on the left chin about mid-jaw this one lacked the straight edges and looked more jagged as if cut by something that wasn’t a blade. Both had evenly spaced stitch marks on either side of the scar lines.
It was then Caboose suddenly wondered, ‘When was the last time he showered?’ He thought about it for a minute realizing that he couldn’t remember when he had one. He turned to the to soldiers who had escorted him here as the third one got to work painting his armor.
“Is there a shower or something I could use while he does that,”Caboose asked while gesturing towards the painter. They had been informed briefly about this new recruit, the Counselor had them get everything he might need for his new assignment and also answer any questions he might have. Most new recruits at least have something like personal belongings but this guy had come with nothing just the armor on his back. Also he didn’t look “new” the scars the way he stood screamed battle hardened warrior. ‘Where did Command even get this guy’, they thought.
“Yeah, you can use the showers in the barracks there is a cleaning pod for your suit attached,” one of the soldiers explained as he handed Caboose a duffle bag he had been carrying. Caboose took the bag, tilting his head slightly as if asking what the bag was for. The man recognized the unasked question and answered, “We were told to get you everything you might need since you were dropped here with nothing. So we got you all the basics.”
Caboose smiled as the soldiers turned to guide him to the barracks, he unzipped the bag to look inside towels, soap, toothbrush and paste, fatigues they even had the right sizes. As he was happily ruffled through the bag he came across a medicine bottle the pills rattling around as he picked the bottle up to read the label. He recognized the label they were alpha rut suppressants the same he had seen his sisters use. There was even an emergency inject-able kind similar to an EpiPen rubber-banded to the side of the bottle. They had reached the showers as he was looking at the bottle his escorts had split one to each side of the entrance.
He shook the bottle to get their attention, “This is wrong, I need the kind for omegas,” he spoke rather candidly. The two men’s eyes widened in surprise “O, omega!”, they stuttered in unison.
A/N: Okay so it was just a little pen doodle to show where the scars are, that I did at work so ya I know it's not the greatest thing ever.
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Perfect For Me Chapter 3
Mike vaguely remembers being moved, forced to stand and then guided where they needed him to go, before drifting off again. When he finally was allowed to wake from his forced coma, he was relieved. His body no longer felt terrible, no longer hot and his mind was clearer. Although he still had that lingering feeling like he left something behind. He sat up, no one stopped him this time, he looked around the room he was in. It was definitely not one he recognized. A large monitor was mounted on the opposite wall he flinched slightly when the screen suddenly flicked on, upon looking towards it.
The silhouette of a man appeared on the screen, his voice was low and a noticeably controlled calm tone as he spoke. “Well, hello there Mike-208 is it? May I call you Mike?” he asked.
Mike was quiet for a moment, “Yes, yes you can sir”, he was used to being called by his number but he never liked it, he had always liked it better with his name. It oddly always sounded louder in his head when they used his number, it upset him actually.
“That’s good Mike, I want you to feel comfortable while we go over your new assignment. You see the Spartan Project has saw fit to reassign you to our care and we have a very important place for you to be,” he paused briefly making sure the Spartan was following what he was saying as Mike nodded he continued.
“We have something the needs protecting and we feel you are uniquely qualified to do so, but we can’t have people knowing your a Spartan. So we have decided to give you a new name. We have chosen Michael as you are already familiar with this name and your last name will be Caboose as you were the last to be officially ‘recruited’ into your last assignment. We have also noticed that on many of your missions you always seemed to gravitate towards to back as the rear guard.”
Michael interrupted the man’s psychoanalysis somewhat excitedly as it sunk in what was happening. “Wait, can I have a middle name too?!”
The silhouette of the man stopped and seemed to look over his papers then picked up a pen. “I don’t see why not. What did you have in mind Michael?”, he asked.
“James,” Michael said, “but just write a J please so it can be my secret name that I picked for myself”
“Alright, Michael J. Caboose it is then,” the man busied himself as he started writing on his papers, he was quiet for a few seconds. Then he looked back up into the monitor at Caboose, the door to his side opened and two men in uniform came in.
The man in the monitor spoke again, “These men are here to take you to your new home I hope you do well on your new assignment, these men will answer any questions you may have. Good-bye, Michael.”
The monitor went black, and Caboose turned to follow the uniformed men he was led into a hanger. A Pelican was in the middle of being loaded with supply crates and a scorpion-class tank was sitting off to the side already seemingly prepped to be loaded under the belly of the Pelican once they were ready. Another soldier in a slightly different uniform came up to Caboose with and arm full of spray paint cans.
“Your the new recruit right?”, he said as he looked Caboose up and down in an exaggerated manner. The man flinched as the Spartan reached his large armored hand out to grab one of the paint cans from his precarious hold.
“Yes, I am Michael J. Caboose,” he replied in a happy go lucky tone that didn’t really match his massive build and intimidating stance. Michael wasn’t fazed by the other mans obvious flinch he was pretty used to that kind of thing. He was still happy from the news he got earlier he was getting a new home and he was given a new name. ‘It must be my birthday or something, or maybe I’ll just make today my birthday because I never had one before and today seems like a good day,’ he smiled as he thought.
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Perfect For Me Chapter 2
Mike-208 isn’t sure where he is right now. All he knows is it is very hard to see, everything is unfocused, blurry. He was doing something important at one point, ‘What was it’, he thinks as he wakes it feels like his brain is rebooting slowly like he’s running Windows 95, just painfully slow. While he’s thinking his feeling starts to come back he begins to take in the world around him. ‘He’s hot why, why is it so hot, it feels gross like a sticky hot.’ After the feeling, comes the voices but they are droning voices, echoing and unfocused he can’t understand what they’re saying. He moves his hand intending to touch his face, cover his eyes try to focus, but his hand hits something before it makes it. Curiously he spreads his fingers out, to feel the obstruction then it clicks, ‘It’s my helmet. He’s still in his armor, then why is it so hot the suits have climate control he shouldn’t be feeling like this.’ He focuses on his vision again blinking the world into clarity once more. It looks like he’s in a med bay, a few people are standing around him wearing medical uniforms. Mike goes to sit up, but one of the people puts a hand on his armored chest and stops him.
“Stay down, 208 it’s too dangerous for you to stand right now,” the man states. Mike turns his helmet towards his voice.
“Why is it so hot, is my suit broken?,” he asks his voice sounds a little whiny, further expressing his discomfort. The undisclosed man chuckled lightly at 208’s question.
“No, your suits not broken, thankfully. You manifested during a mission and crashed your Pelican.”
“Manifested!,” Mike interrupted. “Am I as alpha, like my sisters? I don’t remember them saying anything about it felling so...horrible though.”
The assumed doctor shook his head, “No, 208 you manifested as an omega a very...dominate omega, your pheromones are so strong we have to keep you in your suit or they’ll cause some...major issues,” he said as a matter of factually. Mike went still even his breathing stopped, his helmet still turned towards the doctor. His thoughts start to run wild,‘An omega...no way he’s too old, omegas usually manifest when they’re around 14 years old he’s over 20 that’s way too late,...no wonder he feels so sick. Oh, wait if he’s an omega that means he’ll be separated from all his sisters. They are all alphas it would be to risky for him to go back now.’
“208, are you okay?,” the doctor said as he witnessed the change in the Spartan’s posture.“Don’t worry we’re going to get you though your manifestation safely, your pheromones won’t spread if we keep your suit sealed,” he said as he patted the Spartans chest a few times, like a car salesmen thumping on the roof of a car. Mike relaxed again taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he tried to take a drink from the suits on board water supply. The suit beeped at him a little icon showed up on the HUD informing him there was no water canister equipped. Mike turned to the doctor again, “My suits out of water,” he simply stated with disappointment rolling off the words. The doctor motioned to one of the others in the room who picked up a new reservoir, ‘Seems like they already had one prepared.,’ Mike thought. The man placed the reservoir into the suits compartment, Mike took a few gulps as soon as it was available. Not very long after he started drifting back to sleep, ‘They drugged my water,’ he thought as the darkness took him.
A/N: I need a better title I think I'll have to think about it I guess. Also if your wondering why Caboose doesn't sound for lack of a better word right now, 'dumb'. If because the major change hasn't happened yet he has some from the pheromone blockage he experienced but nothing major right now. Plus in my AU I'm not going to make him 'dumb' especially not in his head when he's in his head he's more or less fine, it's when he tries to talk things get jumbled.
#rvb#red vs blue#omegaverse#boosington#washingboose#rvb caboose#agent washington#michael j caboose#bear's fic
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Okay I sketched this picture of my Washingboose Couple in pencil maybe I'll try to pen line it later idk I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out
#washingboose#agent washington#boosington#red vs blue#rvb#omegaverse#rvb caboose#michael j caboose#caboosington#bear's art
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Perfect For Me Chapter 11
I have broke 10.5K words now. Honestly I never thought I would get that far but I keep getting ideas and they keep running away with me. I hope you guys like my story I'm actually having a lot of fun writing it.
#rvb#red vs blue#washingboose#boosington#omegaverse#agent washington#rvb caboose#caboosington#bear's fic
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Perfect For Me Chapter 10
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