#his messily constructed family.

[officesuppliez]

those little wooden dolls.

#his messily constructed family. #he “made” it all. #he set it all up. he's so proud #maybe at some point he really did love his family #but after a while #it was more a play than anything. #a front. #he's “normal” #he has a family! a good job! #anyway #i dont really like how this one came out #could be better #could be worse! #fnaf #digital art #five nights at freddy's #william afton #fnaf fanart #my art :] #fanart #springtrap #fnaf 3 #michael afton #elizabeth afton #afton family #crying child

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 8

We have finally got to the part that started this whole story. Steve being validated by a professional.

Robin gets a pretty dress. And Eddie gets a little jealous.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Eddie joined them at the shop just as they were finishing up. Will used the extra ten he had to buy Steve a pretty little dagger that was mostly a letter opener, but Steve fell in love with it.

The dagger was silver with a moon in the hilt, the cross guard had moonstones on either side. It was nestled in a black velvet box that he was told he had to leave the dagger in and not pull it out while at the fair.

Steve promised he wouldn’t and turned around to nearly run right into Eddie.

“Whoa!” Eddie said, putting out his hands to steady Steve. “I didn’t realize I was that close to you.”

Steve blushed. “You get your schedule sorted for tomorrow?”

Eddie grinned. “Sure did, sweet thing. Will get his staff?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so happy,” Steve said with a smile. He jutted his thumb behind him to where Will was happily chatting with the seller.

Eddie peered around Steve to see where he was pointing and sure enough, Will was talking to the guy about magical users in DND and how they should expand it to include other types.

Will spotted Eddie and said goodbye to the seller. He rushed over to where Steve and he were talking.

He held out the staff for Eddie to look at. “What do you think?”

Eddie and Steve shared a fond smile. “It looks great. Will the Wise has finally got a staff worthy of him.”

Will blushed.

“We should put it in Eddie’s van,” Steve suggested, “so it doesn’t get stolen.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Why my van?”

“Because it won’t fit in my car,” he replied with a blush staining his cheeks and creeping up his ears.

Eddie cackled. “Fair enough, Stevie!” He looked around and spotted Gareth with an arm full of all sorts of wares, from swords and armor, to decorative goblets and boxes that no doubt held jewelry.

“Hey Gare!” he said following an ear piercing whistle.

The younger man lit up and jogged over to the trio.

“Hey, Ed!” Gareth said with a shit eating grin. “You like my haul?”

Eddie shook his head. “Sometimes I think your parents have more money than sense, but I’m not about to begrudge a well plotted haul.”

Gareth grinned. “Oh, they absolutely have more money than sense. I just know how to use that to my advantage.”

Will and Steve laughed with them.

Eddie pulled out his keys. “Since you’re clearly in need to be relieved of your loot or grow three extra arms, you should take Will to stash your stuff for later.”

Will’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s a great idea!”

Steve just shook his head fondly as he watched the two boys walk off chatting about their prizes.

“It’s nice to see Will come out of his shell around new people,” he said to Eddie. “He really needs friends outside of the Party.”

Eddie nodded. “And it helps that I forced them to be read in with Wayne because there was no way I was going to keep a secret that big with the people who are my family.”

They began their stroll through the other stalls, stopping here and there.

Steve spotted a clothing shop and armory and he sided eyed it longingly. There was no way he would the money for anything in that shop. He chewed his bottom lip and was about to move along, when Eddie grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward a black leather cloak.

Steve was admiring the construction when he heard a voice behind him say, “That’s a neat tunic, but you do know that you’re supposed to wear a chain shirt under that specific kind, right?”

Steve turned around to see a buxom red head in a bodice and flowing red dress. Her hair was piled messily on her head, but Steve could tell it was artfully done as the structure seemed too sound to be accidental.

“Can’t afford the see the armorer,” he said with a wink and a half shrug.

She laughed. “I guess I deserved that.”

Eddie smirked.

“I like your tunic,” the red head said, looking Steve up and down. Eddie bristled next to him. “Where did you get it from?”

Steve grinned, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s elbow. “I made it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No shit. Really?”

“Yes, he did,” Eddie defended. “He’s amazing.”

Steve flushed with pleasure at his praise. “I dabble. I’ve been sewing for about a decade now.”

She walked up to him and admired the stitching on the hem on the tunic. “That’s really impressive.”

“Thanks, I was admiring your work on the construction of the cloak here,” Steve said. “Was it hand sewn?”

“Fuck no!” she said, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t have time to breathe if I did that.” She smiled to have him join in on her joke. But when Steve continued looking at her in awe. “Wait...” she said, as it slowly dawned on her. “You did all of this by hand?”

She brought the hem of his tunic up to her face. Steve blushed and Eddie batted her hand away.

“Oi! Don’t get fresh!”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I think a name would be a good start before you go and get grabby,” he growled.

“Oh!” she said slapping her forehead. “Right, sorry! I’m Katie. I run Damsel in this Dress. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Steve and this is Eddie,” Steve said.

Eddie looked only slightly mollified and Steve rubbed his lower back soothingly. Eddie preened, leaning into the touch.

Steve cleared his throat. “But anyways, yeah I stitched it all by hand. My parents didn’t think a boy should ‘play’ with a sewing machine.” He put play in air quotes.

Katie’s eyes went wide and she looked back at the tunic hem in her hand. “But it’s so tight and even...”

Eddie grinned. “Isn’t he amazing?”

She looked over at him. “He do yours too?”

Steve shook his head. “No, not his.” He spotted Robin walking by. “But I see someone else’s outfit I worked on.”

“Robin!” he called out.

His soulmate came to a...well stop wouldn’t be quiet accurate as she kept in motion, flailing around a bit trying to regain her balance from her aborted step.

“Steve!” she called back and hurried over to him.

Katie looked her up and down. “You did her costume too?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at Steve.

Robin grinned. “Hell yeah, he did! He’s awesome!”

Katie looked back and forth between them. “May I look?”

“Oh I know!” Eddie said cheerfully. “Why don’t they try on something of yours so that you can take a look at their costumes without you having to get all handsy.”

Robin raised an eyebrow at Eddie but turned gleefully to Katie. “That sounds like a great compromise.”

Katie cocked her head back and forth. “Could do, I suppose.”

Steve immediately went for the chain shirts, while Robin wandered around some.

“You’d look pretty in one of my corsets,” Katie said waiting for Steve to get out of the tunic to hand it to her.

Robin blushed. “Aren’t they like painful and gross?”

Katie laughed clear and bright. “Not really. For centuries they were the only form of support a women had. Now, there were tight lacing bodices and corsets, but that wouldn’t happen until much later.”

Robin chewed her bottom lip. She really liked the blue dress and the blue and gold corset. “Can I try on those?” She pointed to the ones she liked.

“What’s your bra size?” Katie asked pulling out the right size dress.

“Uh...” Robin said with a blush. “It’s not very...”

Katie nodded. “It’s fine. I think I’ve got the right one for you anyway, but if it’s too tight or too loose let me know and I’ll find a different size.”

Robin nodded and Steve came out of the dressing room to hand her his tunic.

Eddie let out a low whistle. “Looking good, Sir Stephen.”

Steve did a slow turn and both Eddie and Katie gave him appraising glances.

Robin peeked her head out form behind the curtain. “Um...help?”

Katie was immediately by her side. “What’s up?”

Robin walked out with the laces in her hands and corset not tied.

“Oh!” Katie said. “God, the heat must getting to my brain today. Odd’s Botkins!”

She grabbed laces and showed Robin how to lace it properly.

“How does fit?” she asked stepping back to admire her creation on Robin.

Robin grinned. “I never realized how much I slouched until just now.”

“Yeah,” Katie said with a laugh, “I hear that a lot.” She spun Robin around causing the skirt of the dress to billow out like water rippling in the breeze.

“Wow, Robbie,” Steve said in awe. “That’s gorgeous.”

Eddie hummed his agreement. “Looking good, Buckster!”

Robin squeaked and then dashed back into the dressing room. She came back out with the shirt Steve had altered for her.

Katie took the shirt and tunic and laid them both out on the counter where the cash box was.

“It’s literally seamless,” she said in awe. “And you did this by hand?”

Steve nodded. “But I’ve been doing it for years so...” He half shrugged.

“Hey, man,” Eddie huffed, “don’t diminish your awesomeness. This is hell of a job.”

Steve nodded, blush creeping back up on his cheeks again.

“What’s this?” Katie asked, tapping the embroidery on the hems of both pieces. It was a lovely little floral pattern that was off white on Robin’s shirt so that it blended in, but was a striking silver on Steve’s tunic.

Eddie leaned forward. “Oh, I never noticed that before.” He smiled widely at Steve. “It’s cute.”

Steve flushed even deeper, the red now covering his whole face. “It’s a little something I add to all of my designs. It’s a little signature if you will, so you’ll always know I made it.”

“A Harrington pattern?” Robin asked, leaning over to inspect the embroidery, too.

Steve nodded.

“Have you thought about selling your pieces?” Katie asked. “You could be making bank with these.” She lifted up the shirt to emphasize her point.

Steve shrugged. “Sure, but I wouldn’t have any idea where to sell them or who to sell them to.”

“I’ll sell them for you,” she said, “for a cut of the profits, of course. I sell at gaming and comic conventions, Ren fairs, sci-fi and fantasy conventions.”

Steve chewed on his lip. “I don’t make them very quickly. With them being all hand sewn.”

“Which makes it all the more valuable,” Katie insisted. “A hand sewn dress from a major clothing designer would be worth thousands, sweetie.”

Robin mouthed the word ‘thousand’ in shock.

Eddie pounded Steve on the shoulder. “Hell yeah! Just sell a couple of pieces every once in while and you’ll always having spending money.”

Steve thought it over and then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Katie and Robin cheered while Eddie and Steve shared a warm smile between them. A smile that sent butterflies through Steve’s chest. Eddie was always there for him.

Always.

Katie pulled out a business card. “Give me a call when you’ve got pieces you want to sell. And don’t leave off that signature either. Your Harrington Pattern as your friend called it.”

Steve took the card frowning. “But won’t that make it harder to sell? Especially the male stuff?”

She shook her head. “The people that buy this sort of thing are the last people that would care about a floral design, particularly since it would make it more authentic.”

He blinked and mouthed ‘oh’. She was right. “Yeah okay.” He lifted the card. “Thanks for this. I guess Robin and I better go change out of these so you can have them back.”

Katie shook her head. “Think of them as an investment in Steve Harrington’s clothing venture.” She lit up and dashed over to the cloaks. She grabbed the leather one that Eddie had been admiring and held it out to him.

“For you too.”

Eddie blinked, he wanted to turn it down and would have, had Steve not taken it and draped it on his shoulders.

The inside had a soft almost fur like material that was a slate grey. It would be too hot to wear in the summer, but in winter he would be outright toasty in it.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure if he was thanking her or Steve, but it didn’t really matter. He was grateful to both. He looked up at Robin.

“You’ll probably want to change out of yours, Robbie,” he said, carefully removing the cloak and draping it over his arm.

“Why’s that?” she asked with a pout.

A grin took over Eddie’s face. The mischievous one that always sent a lance of heat in Steve’s gut every time he saw it. “Because you’ll want to look rocking for the joust tomorrow.”

Katie grinned too. “That is an excellent idea, good sir!”

Robin seemed to agree because she grabbed her shirt and dashed back into the dressing room.

Steve was surprised she remembered the shirt, if he was honest.

Katie and Eddie helped him get the tunic over the chain shirt without snagging the cloth on the metal.

Robin came out mere seconds later with her prizes clutched to her chest.

“Thank you!” she squealed. “I can’t wait to wear it tomorrow!”

They all went to the parking lot to put away Eddie and Robin’s prizes. The cloak in the van, and the dress and corset in the trunk of Steve’s car.

Steve was grinning from ear to ear and couldn’t stop.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Damsel in This Dress is an actual Ren Faire staple from where I'm from.

Yup, still on my Gareth lives in Loch Nora agenda.

And while I don't ship Will/Gareth Will needs friends who aren't trauma bonded, you know?

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1@zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

[bun-lapin]

The Gingerbread Gauntlet (part 3)

Summary: The housewardens have a gingerbread house competition

A/N: I meant to post this part yesterday after dinner but things kinda got away from (>_<) Sorry about that! In any case, here's part 3! Almost at the end~! <3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4/END - AO3 (whole fic)

Word Count: 1.2 k CW: crack, silly, shouting, insults, mild swearing, candy/gingerbread

The group of housewardens silently watch Azul fumble blindly with the second half of his gingerbread construction for the next few minutes. After watching him splatter icing all over his shirt sleeve and then nearly knock a glass bowl of gumdrops onto the floor, Vil sighs wearily and shakes his head, “I know I insisted earlier that we must all build our houses without any outside help, but this is frankly becoming almost too painful to watch. Azul, would you like some help? I could literally whip up a vision correcting potion in just a few minutes if you ask me to.”

Azul squints in Vil’s general direction and flashes him a strained smile, “While I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid I must decline. A potion from the famous Vil Schoenheit sounds a bit too pricey for me.” He lets out a short laugh filled with puffed-up bravado and adds, “Besides, as you can see, I don’t even need my glasses for this kind of work! I can operate on instinct alone when it comes to food competitions. Things are going just swimmingly!”

Holding up a gingerbread cookie decorated with teal frosted hair and mismatched eyes, Kalim lets out a wheezing kind of giggle and says breezily, “Nice pun there, Azul! And good job telling Betta-chan-senpai the facts! We don’t need no stinkin’ potion!” Holding up another, almost identically decorated cookie, Kalim continues in a smoother and more refined tone, “While I agree with my brother’s enthusiasm, I would like to point out that you have icing on your sleeve, Azul.”

After glancing down at his sleeves, Azul nonchalantly pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to wipe the icing away. Squinting over at Kalim, he remarks, “I assume those two cookies are supposed to be Jade and Floyd? What sort of candies did you decide to decorate them with?”

Kalim lets out a bright peal of laughter and holds the cookies closer to Azul for him to see better. “I decided to get a little creative this time and decorated them with flavors they like! So for Jade, I used dried mushroom pieces and for Floyd I used bonito flakes dyed with food coloring!”

Azul recoils away from the cookies with a look of thinly veiled revulsion on his face. After quickly regaining his composure, he clears his throat and remarks, “Those are some very… interesting choices for decorating cookies.”

From his seat at the end of the table, Riddle looks up from his work with his eyebrows raised, “Kalim, gingerbread cookies are traditionally decorated with sweets. Your choices seem to be more on the savory side.” As he finishes his statement, one of his gingerbread pieces falls away from the overall structure and lands with a sticky splat into a puddle of icing. Riddle briefly closes his eyes in barely restrained fury and then picks up the offending gingerbread in a death-grip. He firmly presses it back into place and liberally pipes more icing along the sides.

Raising yet another cookie, this one decorated with dark-green icing hair and glasses made from licorice strips, Kalim asks in a familiar and slightly teasing voice, “Speaking of sweets, Riddle, do you need some help with your gingerbread construction? I’d be more than happy to give you some tips I learned in my family’s bakery.”

Riddle snaps back almost instinctively, “I certainly do not need any help, Trey–I mean, Kalim!” With a little growl of frustration he pushes his dangerously leaning and messily frosted gingerbread pieces together even harder and mutters to himself, “What am I, a child? As if I need any extra help attaching two cookies together. For goodness sake!”

Vil looks over at Riddle’s rapidly deteriorating gingerbread scene and shakes his head with a kind of weary sympathy,  “I understand that the whole off-center, ‘leaning’ type of aesthetic is part of Heartslabyul’s unique charm, but this goes beyond the pale. Your design is just honestly not structurally sound!” Clucking his tongue a bit reproachfully, he turns back to his work and adds, “You’re the only one here who has a vice housewarden with a background in the pastry arts. Did you even consult Trey at all when you drew up that elaborate blueprint?” 

Riddle’s face flushes a light shade of red at Vil’s words and he slaps a hand down on the table, narrowly missing his gingerbread pieces, and shouts, “I beg your pardon?! As I have said time and time again, I do not need any assistance with this!” The impact of Riddle’s hand hitting the table shakes three more gingerbread walls loose from his structure. Quickly grabbing the fallen pieces and squishing them together with another generous dollop of icing, Riddle shouts to no one in particular, “I am perfectly capable of building any scene I choose out of gingerbread and candy! I don’t need Trey to hold my hand for an activity as childish as this!” 

Picking up a nearby spatula, Riddle points it at Vil in an accusatory way before using it to scoop more icing onto his gingerbread, “And while we’re on the concept of ‘structurally sound’, what exactly are you putting on your house right now? Is that an actual diamond?!”

Vil pauses for a second and then resumes his placement of a strawberry sized, white gemstone on one corner of his gingerbread mansion. Reaching into a large bowl filled with jewelry, he pulls out a gold chain and replies breezily, “It’s actually a white sapphire.”

“That–!!” Riddle slams his hand down on the table once more, dislodging a handful of peppermints that clatter noisily downwards to the floor. “You can’t use jewelry for your decorations! They’re not edible!” he shouts angrily, the shade of red on his face getting progressively darker.

Arching one eyebrow, Vil replies, “In my experience, no one ever eats gingerbread houses so everything might as well be inedible. I’m simply embellishing my gingerbread house with a small amount of jewelry for aesthetic purposes. The majority of my structure is made of gingerbread and thus, should meet the qualifications of the contest.”

Holding up a blonde-haired cookie wearing a large marshmallow hat, Kalim dramatically cries out, “You’ve outdone yourself, mon roi~! Your house is the very vision of elegance and loveliness! Beauté!”

Draping a string of pearls along the roof of the house, Vil smoothly replies, “Thank you, Rook. I know.”

Clenching his fist angrily, Riddle jumps to his feet and shouts, “You cannot–!”

His outburst is interrupted by the wet sound of several icing heavy gingerbread pieces toppling over the edge of the table and falling into a sad little heap on the floor. The soggy cookies have absorbed so much icing, they look more like thick pieces of wet cardboard and Riddle looks down with an unreadable expression on his face. Slowly raising his head, he gazes off into the distance above everyone’s heads and politely says, “Please excuse me.”

Swiftly turning on his heel, Riddle walks quickly through the cafeteria door and shuts it firmly behind him. A few beats of silence pass by as the group of remaining housewardens sit and listen. Their patience is rewarded when they hear a sudden, spine chilling scream of pure fury followed by the unmistakable sound of several fireballs being launched in the air. The room trembles from the amount of magical energy just outside, causing the table to violently shake for a moment. The tremors, combined with the weight of metals and jewels, is too much for Vil’s gingerbread house to bear and it collapses in on itself.

After silently staring at the ruins of his house for several minutes, Vil shakes his head wearily and reaches for more gingerbread. He mutters to himself, “Honestly, I’ve salvaged worse fashion disasters than this.”

-to be continued in part 4-

#they're having fun lol #twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #twst fanfic #twst housewardens #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #riddle rosehearts #vil schoenheit #bun lapin écrit

[eulalielatibule]

For your suburban dad asks…

Softer!Freezy.

That’s it, that’s the prompt. Do with it what you will 😌

Oh gosh 🥹🥹 listen, that one scene when it's Christmas and he yells at his kid literally breaks my heart soooo yeah this is how it should have been.

Rob is a single dad who works in construction.

His ex has custody of their son but Rob gets to see him on weekends and certain holidays, this year it's Easter.

He starts the day with a special Easter basket he put together, the best one he could find and afford. It's on the kitchen table along with some bunny shaped chocolate chip waffles.

"Whoa buddy, look what the Easter Bunny left ya!" While his son ooh's and ahh's over everything.

Later on he takes him to the park and to ice cream, which is where he meets you.

You're the owner of the little ice cream parlor in town, and when the father son duo step in you grin.

"Hey guys, what can I get you?"

Rob hums as he looks you over, how cute you look in your little vintage dress and apron. It fits the theme of the parlor perfectly.

He almost forgets to order his own ice cream and gruffly orders coffee ice cream in a cone.

When you hand them their ice cream they sit down and you speak up.

"You guys are my first customers today. I like being open for holidays though, gives me something to do."

Rob hums and licks his lips,

"You're not doing anything today? Working hardly seems like a fun way to spend a holiday."

You shrug as you busy yourself with a small task.

"I guess not, but when you don't have any family around there isn't much to do you know?"

Rob looks at his son who is messily eating his rocky road, a sad smile on his face as he nods.

"Yeah, I know what you mean.."

Wait this turned kinda angsty 😭😭 but it was soft!freezy and I ain't mad at it!!

#mr freezy x reader #mr freezy x you #robert pronge x reader #Robert Pronge x you #suburban dad sunday #my writing

[gemini-twinz]

HELLO DURARARA FANDOM! MYSELF AND @psychedelic138 BRING YOU A FRESH NEW AU TO PLAY WITH TO YOUR HEART'S CONTENT! Introducing: Shizu-tan AU!! Also known as Shizu-tan's Sweet Home

This AU is inspired by works such as Chobits, The 5th Element, Tarzan, and Kyle XY, and uses the trope commonly referred to as "Born sexy yesterday" in which a fully adult being with no basic human knowledge (speaking, reading, eating etc) must be nurtured and taught everything by a sort of caretaker. Normally the two parties also fall in love, but it is not a requirement.

Shizu-tan AU is an alternate universe where Shizuo is a lab grown test-tube superhuman titled Unit 4-Z-0 who is brought out of stasis due to the Nebula merge, when all experiments must be ceased and destroyed, or put into hiding. Upon waking him up, the scientists realize 4Z0 is a completely blank sleight. Shingan pities the experiment, and offers to take 4Z0 off their hands, thinking he can keep him with Shinra for the time being.

While Shinra is fascinated with 4Z0 and nicknames him Shizuo as a play on his serial number, he does not have the room or time to take care of Shizuo, more focused on Celty, and so constructs a plan to convince Izaya to take him in. Izaya is reluctant to take Shizuo in as he doesn't perceive the lab grown man as being human, but Shinra manages to convince him, using Shizuo's blankness and potential to be anything as a selling point. Izaya must then start the seemingly impossible journey of teaching Shizuo to be human, even if it's a fool's game! He refers to Shizuo as Shizu-tan from then on, likening him to a mascot or pet, rather than a human. From here it can branch off in many ways depending on your taste.. Changes to DRRR canon include: 🐶 Shizuo has a barcode on his chest that displays his serial number in place of the scar Izaya gave him in drrr canon, since they did not meet in school in this timeline. The barcode is a constant reminder of his status as non-human. (when truly, he is human!) 🐶 Shizuo has no belly button, due to being lab grown 🐶 there is no Heiwajima family line 🐶 Since the school context is missing, we thought it more appropriate if Izaya nicknamed him like a cartoon mascot or pet, thus, Shizu-tan.

After the main set up, the story can go many different ways. Our personal choice is the Doomed Timeline; where Izaya is the Satan of caretakers, finding any way possible to make sure Shizuo feels anything but human, from messily dying his hair blond and leaving burns, to buying him bright red clothing with warnings sewn on to keep others away. And of course, a heaping dose of emotional manipulation, demanding Shizuo's success, but setting him up to fail. That is until Shizuo has enough, and turns his massive strength against Izaya in a fight that nearly destroys Ikebukuro. Maybe something changes in Izaya that day.. That's just our story though!

Once we finished planning this RP, we KNEW we had to share the AU with everyone! We hope you enjoy it, and if you want to share any art or fics about it use the tags #shizutanAU , #DRRRSTAU , and #STAU on both Tumblr and Twitter! We would love to see your takes!! Welcome to your sweet home 🙂

#drrr #durarara #DRRR #drrrx2 #shizuo heiwajima #izaya orihara #shizuo #izaya #shizutanAU #DRRRSTAU #STAU #alternate universe

[justyoursicanon]

I'm Just A Call Away

Summary: Scout decides to catch up with one of his older brothers, talking about home and work. And maybe even one of Scout's coworkers getting to know him more.

(No warnings besides a few swears here and there, just Scout talkin to his family)

(Edit! Want a continuation of what Scout and Sniper do next? Check out No need to call, when your already home! +includes sniperscout!)

You may start reading! ^^

Scout let out dragged breaths as he leaned on his locker, another successful battle, beating the BLUE's ass and all that. Just the usual as Scout would say. He quickly removes his cap and headphones, letting his fingers brush through his messy dirty blond hair, and throwing them in his locker before grabbing a spare shirt and running out, letting the doors swing and close. The other men glance at each other in confusion. "Why is little Scout in hurry?" Heavy asked as he kept his dear Sasha, everyone shrugged while Spy just rolled his eyes, changing his cigarette before cloaking away from everyone.

~~

Messily and quickly putting on his shirt, Scout ran to the empty phone booth while digging into his pocket for something, finally his fingers brushed against a piece of paper. Pulling it out, he again quickly as ever unfolds it an reads the numbers. A few more moments and he grabs the phone and pushes in the number combination. Tapping his foot impatiently as he lays his arm on the box and lets his forehead rest on his arm. Finally, someone picked up.

Scout very much expected his Ma to pick up but he'd say the voice on the other side was way better.

"Hello?"

Scout was taken back by this, the voice was a man, rough with tiredness like he hadn't slept for days. He caught the Boston accent and he finally recognized him. "Jack?" Scout asked. The other voice didn't reply for a beat, rustles of papers and maybe even pens can be heard on the other line. "Holy shit Jer? Jeremy is that you?" The tired voice suddenly turned a bit higher and maybe even brighter. Scout smiled recognizing his 2nd eldest brother. "Jackson dude! How ya been bro? How's the writing and all that?" Scout asked. He could hear his brother chuckle slightly while another something can be placed on a rough surface, probably his glasses.

"Yea the writing process has been good actually- Just checking a few copies here and there, doing autographs and all that shit." Scout chuckled. "Damn you doing autographs now? Didn't know ya got that famous while I was gone!" He heard his brother chuckle at the other end, then hearing a quiet sigh. "Honestly never thought it would be a success, first it was just.. Writing silly little comics with you and the other shits and now am here.." Scout shrugged, "Pretty unbelievable if ya ask me, but hey! Least it worked out right?" Another chuckle from his brother and Scout could tell Jack was grinning. "Course it worked out, am over here working my ass off!" "Alright alright no need to yell over there Jackass!" They both yelled, and ended up laughing.

"Awh anyways how's the family there? Ma doing okay? The other dumbasses doing alright too?" "Yea everyone's doing alright, Ma's having the time of her life relaxing after 6 months of working her ass off after ya gave us a shit load of money- Actually hey how did you get that much cash? What are you even working for anyways?"

Scout froze at that question, he always hoped no one would ask the obvious but of course it wouldn't always go that way. Scout swallowed hard and brushed his hair through his fingers. "U-uh yknow just some serious construction work and all that bullcrap. Nothing special." "Uh huh. Nothing special that you ended up giving us 10, 000 bucks?" Jack's voice slipped with sarcasm and disbelief, While Scout just scoffed and tried to keep his facade on. "Oh come on Jack, is it really hard to believe am just that good at ma job?" "Yes." Jack replied quickly and let a giggle slip. "Well whatever you say Jer, just make sure to come home once the holidays comes alright?" "Yea yea I get it dad." Scout could tell Jack rolled his eyes. He glanced at the sun, watching it slowly come down, dinner was gonna start soon so might as well wrap this up. "How's your latest novel doing Jack? Good enough for da public?" Jack only let out an 'eh' while Scout heard a bit of writing in the background. "I'd say it's great, kinda proud of it. But the problem is the cover." Scout raised an eyebrow. "Whaddya mean?" "Wasn't able to get a cover artist and am kinda on a dead end. And since you called I was gonna.. Well ask if you could do it." Scout felt the hair on the back of his neck stand.

"You.. You want me to do your cover art?" "If it's not too much of a problem then yea, I've seen ya artwork Jer and it's pretty damn good if I say so myself." Scout paused for a moment, letting his fingers drum on the phone box. "Ya sure dude?" "Oh my God- Yes Jeremy am sure! Your one of the best artist in this damn family of course I am sure!" Jack almost yelled and Scout chuckled. "Alright alright shut it Jackass I'll do it! When ya sending ya first copies?" "Possibly next year on March so ya better have ya ass here on the holidays so we can work on it!" Scout paused again, before sighing and letting a smile crawl on his lips. "Yea.. I'll do ya damn cover art for ya." "Thank God, thought I had to drive all the way there to ya job and make ya." Jack joked. Scout laughed again and his eyes caught the sun fully down. He fidgets a bit with his grip tape before he hears Jack sigh as well. "Looks like it's dinner time, go get your ass back to your work and eat. Call again tomorrow alright Jer?" Scout's smile got brighter. "Yea yea you got it Jackass." Scout could hear Jack snort. "Night Jer." "Night Jack." And the line dropped. Scout put the phone back and leaned on the phone box, his smile not ever leaving his lips. God he missed home-

"So, who's Jack?" "GAH!" Scout jumped up and turned to his 'karate pose' ready to punch whoever was there. To his relief, it was just Sniper. A cigarette between his lips as he stood a few feet away from Scout. "Jeez man warn a guy next time." Scout grumbled while Sniper quietly chuckled. "Sorry roo, didn't mean to scare ya." Grabbing the cig between his fingers, he drops it on the sand and crushing it with his boot. "So, who's Jack?" "Huh?- O-oh right yea uh Jack's one of my brothers back at Boston, really good writer if ya ask me." Sniper silently nodded as he looked away and to the distance. "You doing his cover art?" Scout froze. "How much did ya hear dude?" Sniper shrugged. "From ya talking about you 'construction work' till now." Scout flushed a bit. "Y-yea just doing my bro a favor yknow?" "So ya do art?" Scout paused again, feeling panic rise slightly. "U-uh... Yea.." He muttered. They both fell silent, the cold air touching their hair and skin.

"That's nice, never thought of you for the drawing type." "O-oh yknow me Snipes! Am just full of surprises." Scout grinned as he put his hands on his hips. Sniper seemed to smile a bit at Scout's usual ego showing again. "Oh right, dinner's almost ready. Engineer told me to pick ya bloody ass up." Scout brightened at the mention of dinner. "Well what are we waiting for Legs? Let's get going!" Scout jumped slightly and ran ahead from the marksman. Sniper smiled again, and followed the runner.

The End ^^

#SiC anon writes #team fortress 2 #tf2 #scout tf2 #tf2 scout #sniper tf2 #tf2 sniper

[imagine-all-the-fandoms]

Summer Sun - Bucky Barnes x (fem.) Reader

A/N: So... this happened in my brain tonight, and I can tell you, that was a wild dream .. 

Now thanks to @buckgasms I had this written in a little storyline. Hope you maybe enjoy this one.. or not :) 

Warnings: Smut / Metal Arm 

Sun, sweat, blue sky and no cold breeze... this is what you get for Summer when living in a city like New York. The weather has been crazy like this for a few days now and there was no opportunity to cool down.

So currently you were draped over the huge couch in the living room of the Avenger Compound, you best friend a mini ventilator, which provided only a little of the much needed cooling. The pool was currently being under construction, so you had the chance to decide if either a ventilator or a bathtub with ice cubes were the better option.

You went with the little blower, as there were also some perks of being in the compound in the summer.

The first thing you noticed as you looked out the huge window was Sam being weird. He modified Redwing, so that the little iron bird blew cold air with little wings, Sam had attached to its normal ones. Sam enjoying the breeze from a sun chair underneath it. What else to say about this ?

Laughing to yourself, so realized how happy you could actually be right now. You had a family of all your best friends and colleagues around you, no missions in sight for a few days and the weather showing his best side. So you sat there and smiled in content while you let your eyes continue to wander around. In some corner of the huge green area you saw Wanda and Natalie laying around in their Bikini's. They asked you several times to join them, but you preferred to stay inside and not melt into a puddle of sweat.

The next thing that caught your eyes, made your breath hitch in your throat and the little ventilator nearly fell down, tangling your hair. But you could catch it in time, keeping the sight ahead of you in your view.

Steve Rogers was sparring with someone who you would never fail to recognize. This back, strong and firm, showing the outline of his defined muscles. Droplets of sweat rolled down his neck, along his spine, just to disappear in the waistband of his underwear, that stuck out just a bit of his shorts.

One arm holding Steve on a constant distance to him, the other, shining in the bright light like a flame cutting through the air, to throw punches at his childhood friend.

James Buchanan Barnes. A sight for the sore eyes, you can tell.

His long brown hair was messily tied up in a bun, only loose strands hanging out of it.

No shirt on, to impress with his massive built features. Pants hanging low on his hips, dangerously low to be honest. His defined V-Line just showing out a bit, if you keep a good look at it. And which is what you did.

This is not the first time for you to imagine running your hands over his torso, tangle your fingers in his locks.. or even pull his shorts even lower.

So here you were daydreaming of nasty things with this man in the summer sun, while he kept wearing out his body with his pal.

Unbeknownst to anyone out there of course. At least that's what you thought.

“You're drooling sweetheart”, a voice interrupted your thinking.

Natasha was standing on the counter behind you with a smudge grin on her face.

“I don't. I'm just laying here trying not to melt”, you shoot her a glance and act like you didn't know what the assassin was talking about.

“Girl. You might fool those idiots outside, but you cant fool me”, she said and grabbed a cool bottle of water out of the fridge.

“I'm sure Barnes would help you cool down.. or make you even hotter”, she winked and ducked down as you grabbed a pillow and threw it into her direction.

“Shut up Nat! I wasn't even thinking about anything”, you countered, but also knew she could read you like an open book.

It was no secret between you girls that you had a thing for the former Winter Soldier and she and Wanda encouraged you to talk to him about it more than one time. Wanda even offered to use her powers for support. But of course, you always denied and talked down your crush into something more simple.

“Yes, ANYTHING that includes no clothing. But seriously Y/N, talk to him. We all see how he's looking at you as well. Just like now for example”, she hushed the last part as her eyes flicked outside just as Bucky turned around to grab a drink.

You didn't think twice and also turned your head, just to see him indeed staring inside, giving you a full blown smile. You immediately felt like he caught you at doing something you shouldn't. Well you actually did, but luckily he wasn't the one to read minds.

So you gave him a small wave and turned your attention back to Natasha, who was laughing at you ,trying not to blush like a tomato.

“Ugh please shoot me already! I give up!”, you whined and went to hide your face in the pillows around you.

“Never doing that. This show is way to interesting for me”, the red head laughed and strolled out of the room.

The rest of the afternoon you switched between staring, hiding on the couch and getting something to drink. Every once in a while someone came up to you asking to join them outside, but you decided it would be for the best to stay inside. Or else your panties might explode if the guys didn't stop their sparring anytime soon.

You might have drifted off into a little nap when you heard the door of the refrigerator being opened and closed again. When you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Bucky emptying a lonely water bottle and a few droplets decided to slide down his neck and over his chest.. you dared yourself to keep staring at them, vanishing just below his belly button.

You hoped he did not notice you woke up and acted like you were still fast asleep.

“Doll.. I know you are not sleeping”, his deep voice startled you.

Great. So you obviously were not a good actor at all.

“I'm resting Mr. Spy”, you said, trying not to sound impressed at all.

“Do you want to know what else did I spied today? A certain woman stealing glances at me and Steve the whole afternoon”.

“What a nasty girl what do that? That's not proper at all.”, Bucky put down the bottle and starting coming closer to the couch.

“No absolutely not. She should be ashamed, indeed. Do you think she is?”, he was nearly there.

“I don't know.. Should I?”, too late you didn't realize your mistake when you saw his grin rising to his ears and felt the blush immediately start rising in your face.

“I didn't say that you were the one, doll”, he had you and he fucking knew it. “So, you accept the accusation?”

His face now only inches away from yours and you could already feel the heat from the previous training radiate of his body. You tried your hardest to not show how much he affected your body. How badly you wanted to grab his face, mold your lips over his and bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him even closer.

His evil grin, did not help the situation at all.

“I plead guilty at all points” you whispered, hoping you'd get what you wanted and thought you had him where you wanted him the most, as he came even closer. But instead of touching your lips, he went further and whispered something into your ear, which immediately caused goose bump to rise all over your skin.

“Why don't you join me in the shower? Then I might show you how bad girls are treated”.

You thought you were dreaming. Was Bucky Barnes offering you a shower with him? Naked ? Alone ?

Not believing what you just heard, all you could do was stare while processing the words in your brain.

He went to get up and leave, suddenly feeling he might over crossed some line as you didn't respond to his words.

After a few seconds your brain finally seemed to function again and you got up, following him further into the compound but he was already out of your sight. Damn you thought, those damn super soldiers.

You knew exactly where his room was, so it didn't take you long to enter his room, already hearing the water running in the bathroom. So you entered without even thinking, just to see Bucky getting undressed.

“Doll, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..”, he started but you didn't let him finish.

Before letting your new found confidence fade again, you walked up to him and kissed him. He did not waste any time to wrap his muscular arms around you and hold you even closer. The kiss grew hotter with each second and your hands snaked into his boxers, to let the remaining part of clothing he was wearing, fall to the ground.

You pulled apart, catching your breaths as you admired the god created masterpiece of man in front of you. Bucky was the one to break the silence first.

“You can't shower with that much clothing on”, he whispered in a husky voice and pulled your shirt over your head, ripping your bra with his metal arm and not even caring about it.

Your mouth found his again in another heated kiss, while he worked on getting your clothes off in a matter of minutes.

“God you're so fucking beautiful”, his words affected you in many ways. They made your heart flutter and beat even faster, but also they went down straight to your core.

Muscular arms snaked around your hips and he hoisted you up, without any effort. You both went into the huge shower, being welcomed by the warm water running over both of your bodies.

You couldn't believe that you actually found yourself in this situation. Sure, you imagined it many times, but now finally being caged in his arms seemed more like a dream..

Your fingers tangled into his wet hair, as he pressed you into the cold tiles, making your back arch into his chest. You could already feel his semi hard erection being present between your thighs and the only thing you could do was to moan into the kiss.

The kiss grew hotter with each passing second and then he let his mouth wander from your lips to your neck, pressing gentle kissed there and making sure to leave marks in his way, to mark you as his.

Your moans increased as he sucked on your delicate skin, and you felt your arousal increasing as he did so.

It's been ages since you've been with a guy that treated you properly and Bucky seemed to push at all the right buttons right away, leaving you a panting mess.

As he worked his mouth on your neck, you felt him balancing you out on his flesh arm and used his metal arm to grab your neck keeping you attached to him.

He then caressed down to your breast, toying with your nipples and enjoying the reaction he caused on you.

Your hand was still buried in his hair, while the other supported yourself on his shoulder to keep you steady. You wanted to touch him everywhere.. getting to know what his skin feels like, feel the way his muscles worked under your hands but currently you were too focused on the pleasure he was giving you.

After he made sure to treat each breast with the same attention, his skilled fingers went even lower and caressed your thigh in a way like he wanted to savor each moment.

Suddenly you felt his metal finger on your clit. And heaven, never did you felt anything like this before.

The firm metal, heated from the water was applying a gentle pressure on your bud he rubbed it just the right way to make you lose control. Your hips rocked on his finger, wanting more of him, but he kept you in place while continuing to explore your mound with his fingers.

“Bucky..”, you moaned out.

“Didn't I tell you that you're still need your punishment for staring shamless at me?”

His finger slid into your wet folds and you moaned out at the feeling of it.

Dangerously slow he pulled his finger out and slid it back into your heat.

The pleasure you were feeling was already incredible and you knew he had barely done anything.

You wiggled trying to get more friction, but still, his hold kept you in place while he added another finger into your heat, but not speeding up the pace.

He kept finger fucking you on a slow pace until he felt your walls starting to flutter around his fingers, just to pull them out when your moans increased as well.

“Bucky please.. I was so close”, you whined.

“I know.. that's why I stopped doll”, you heard him whisper and he pulled you in another kiss.

Then he let you down and dropped on his knees in front of you. Looking up at you like an innocent angel, he gently spread your legs and kissed your clit. Not sucking, just a single kiss that made your heart rate speed up. Your hands found their way into his hair again, trying to push him gently closer to your heat.

He let you do this, so he went straight to devouring your clit with his mouth, while his tongue played with it.

If that wasn't already enough to drive you crazy, you felt his fingers on the back of your thighs pushing you closer onto his mouth.

Your legs spread automatically and you tried to support you as best as possible, fearing your legs would give in due to the pleasure he created.

Sinful moans flooded the bathroom and echoed back into his ears, so Bucky let his metal fingers find their way back into your heat, just where they left off their unfinished work.

He licked you like there was no tomorrow and he never heard any more beautiful sounds as in this moment as you tried not to fall apart right now.

Once again, he felt you getting closer to your high as he speed up his fingers and his tongue working wonders on your clitoris.

You were just about to climax, when all friction was pulled away from you again.

Not believing, you looked down at Bucky, your wetness on his face and an evil smirk written on his lips.

You just opened your mouth to say something, when he lifted you up once again and entered you with his now very hard manhood without a warning.

The moan leaving your mouth was the most erotic sound he ever heard in his life and he was enjoying that he was the one causing it.

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you tried to adjust to his size. He filled you up perfectly, like his dick was only made for you.

“I only want you to come around my dick, you hear me?”, he whispered into your ear and the words went straight to your core as you nodded.

“Say it”, Bucky commanded.

“I only come around your dick Buck. But please let me come”, you sounded too needy but you didn't care.

Bucky started thrusting gently into you, after you adjusted to his size. No pleasure you received before, was comparing to what he did to you. Sure you imagined this in your head, but the actual feeling of him inside of you made you see starts and never wanting to feel anything else.

His lips captured your in a passionate kiss, while his hips snapped into yours, making your grip on him tighten even more.

The feeling of indescribable pleasure starting to rise in your body once again.

“I feel you getting closer doll. You want to come ?, Bucky knew how to tease you to no limit and he had you in the palm of his hand.

“Yes Bucky, please. You feel too good”, you moan.

“Let go doll, I know you can't hold on any longer”, he gently bit down on your neck and that was all it took for you to lose control.

The feeling of pure pleasure exploded and your walls contracted around his cock. Your back arched shamlessly into his chest and your moans came out uncontrollably.

You never came this hard in your life and it felt just perfect.

With the feeling of your walls faltering around him, it was hard for Bucky to hold on any longer, but when he wanted to pull out of you to finish, your legs tightened around him and keeping him inside.

“I want to feel you James”, you whispered into his ear, still in the afterglow of your own orgasm.

Hearing you say his actual name instead of Bucky, he fell apart and came right into your, letting your juices flow together.

Not being able to keep up any longer, he pushed you back into the wall with his body, clinging to you.

“Fuck..doll”, he smiled and looked at you. “I hope to catch you staring more often”.

“If that's my punishment, then I will gladly accept it”, you said and pulled him into another passionate kiss.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #marvel imagine #imagine blog #avenger imagine #james buchanan barnes imagine #fandom imagines

[jobey-wan-kenobi]

two-bit/marcia

I see all y’all cute headcanons about them dating and defying their respective family/friends and being a sweet happy lil’ couple. I want that to be true but it just rings false to me. No way. Can’t happen. Not in their world. (Also, let’s be honest, Two-Bit’s drunk ass should not be marrying anyone.) 

But I do think they’re fantastic together. So here’s the happy ending I think they could have. They don’t get together in school. They don’t get together once, er, Marcia finishes school. They are awkwardly aware of each other’s presence about town but they each live their lives. 

Marcia goes to college. She drops out with a Mrs. degree. She starts a family with some hollow, plastic upper-middle-class dude. She spends well over a decade doing the suburban mom thing. There are good times and there are bad times. The good times decrease. She and her husband both do some stupid asshole things. They wind up messily separated once most of the kids are out of the house. She becomes a more-asshole-ic divorcee. She tries dating again. She does that with all the drama you’d expect. She’s deeply unhappy. She’s been too smart for this life the whole time. She’s tried to suppress her brand of wackyness. She’s tried to flex her brand of wackyness. She’s lonely trying to chase things she doesn’t really want. She’s a fuckin’ real estate agent. Hey, it’s all right. It’s a cliche but anything is better than being married to and dependent on The Asshole. 

Two-Bit doesn’t graduate. He gets drunk-er. He’s a terrible hippie but he does enjoy the explosion of drugs. His friends slowly die, split up, go to college, start careers, marry, go to jail. Two-Bit is in the last group. After a few brief prison stints for dumbass crime, he tries to get his life together. Fails a few times, especially at sobriety. He’s done a bit of everything. Mechanic, rodeo clown, construction work, stock car crew member, landscaping. Survived exactly two weeks of his plumbing apprenticeship before saying fuck that. Has a girlfriend. She gets pregnant. There’s a kid. Two-Bit is the Disneyland land. He doesn’t fight too hard for more access than occasional visits. He knows he isn’t up to more than that. He tries to keep up with child support. He has another girlfriend. She’s smart and tough. They have good times together and she helps him get a lot more of his life in order. She dumps him in the end though. It makes sense even to him, but it hurts. 

They run into each other again in, like, the mid-80s? It’s not in Tulsa but in a nearby city. Like Edmond or Fayetteville. They were both aware through the grapevine that the other had relocated there too. But it’s still great for both of them when they actually encounter each other. When they were kids it was like they lived in two different worlds. Worlds that could never be crossed without violence or tears. But they’re adults now. This isn’t Tulsa. They’re just Marcia and Two-Bit. Two-Bit usually gets called Keith these days. Weirdly, he likes the way Marcia says Keith. It doesn’t sound weird from her. It doesn’t make him feel like he’s just fooling himself and the world. It sounds like his name. Two-Bit is still in there somewhere. She knows him. 

They go out for dinner and drinks and catch up. Both of them just roast themselves. This is Two-Bit and Marcia. They don’t just make polite awkward self-deprecating jokes. It’s not just funny. It’s brutal. And they don’t reassure each other. They roast each other too. Two-Bit tells her about his highest and most embarrassing arrest. Marcia tells him about how her asshole ex busted her by getting photographs of her affair right in the middle of court proceedings. They talk and laugh loudly but they’re in their own language of metaphors and wordplay and non-sequiturs. No one understands them. It’s okay to tell each other all of their fuck-ups though. Neither of them is surprised. Neither of them thinks any less of the other. “You haven’t changed,” Two-Bit tells her. “You stop that,” Marcia says, “I wish.” “Fine, you’ve changed. You’ve grown up.” “I’ve still got that same stick up my ass.” Two-Bit lights up. He starts trying to physically locate it. In the bar. She has to throw some of her drink in his face. They leave sniping and laughing. 

Once they meet, Marcia gets more serious about getting her affairs in order. She gets a new lawyer, stops playing games and procrastinating, gets the divorce finalized. She does get screwed a bit but at least it’s a closed book now. Two-Bit goes back to AA for, like, the eighth time? It’s different this time. Everyone can tell. He didn’t come to make friends. He didn’t come to get an audience for his “and I’m a shit-faced motherfucker!” jokes. He came to finally advance past Step 4. 

They drive to Vegas to elope. They like being on the road so much that they stick with it for years, becoming antiques and mechanical parts dealers. They kill at it. Eventually they decide to settle in one spot again, but they don’t lose their zest for life. Two-Bit is steadily employed by the time his kid graduates and he puts the kid through college. They make new friends. Not greasers or Socs or suburban robots or criminals. Just regular ordinary people. 

#outsiders #two-bit #marcia #did i already post this? #i swear i already posted this #but here it is in my drafts

[visd3stele]

operation prison break

Sirius x reader - Regulus x reader (platonic)

summary: Y/n opens the door to a very unexpectedly visitor. Why, of course they jump straight on plotting something.

TW: drinking, pregnancy, mention of almost loss of pregnancy, mention of suicide goodbye note, swearing, mention of diabet (is this a warning?), mentions of characters dying, dumbledore slander

A/N: reader has she/they pronouns (constructive critisism is always welcomed)

two gifs because I couldn't decide on just one. understantable, right?

y/f/l/n - your former last name

*might continue if requested*

January, 1983

Y/n sipped directly from the bottle, trying to get even the last drop of fire whiskey stubbornly glued to the glass bottom. Watery, unfixed eyes gazed the papers messily sprawled on the table. Cold food started to go to waste somewhere under the parchments, but y/n didn't care. In an outburst of feelings that spurred out of the blue, she tossed the bottle on the floor. A strangled cry came from the witch's lips as they gripped the wooden edges of the table and furiously shook their head. She's been like this ever since october last year. When everything she fought for has been cruelly snatched from them.

The young witch in their twenties dozed off to sleep, still on the chair, still in their pencil dark blue dress and white shirt with epaulettes she used to attend a visit to the Ministry earlier.

"He's innocent." Y/n spitted through gritted teeth. She took a deep breath, collecting herself. Loosing their head would help no one. "Firstly, he has never been made Secret Keeper. James and Lily -" y/n's voice broke a little at the names of the people she called family - "they picked another. They didn't want to put us in danger." The witch touched their belly, who now looked like she had a too large lunch, but would soon be a big bump she'd barely handle.

"Secondly, he did not murder twelve muggles, nor Peter Pettigrew. Such an explosion would cost Worm- Peter, more."

"More than his whole body, burned to crisps, miss Black?" One of the Auror mocked. And it took all their Ravenclaw coolness and mobility to keep their calm.

"Yes," she stated. "Such an explosion would have ripped him apart, no evidence of his presence there whatsoever. Even if the finger survived," she added, "it'd have to be at least a little burned and greyed with ash. Which it wasn't, I read the declaration the Aurors who arrested my husband gave to the Prophet."

"Miss y/f/l/n," Dumbledore decided to cut in. "I'm afraid mister Black's participation with the Dark Lord is undisputable. Do yourself and the little one-" he glanced down at the lightly swollen belly from above his glasses -" a favor and, please, clear yourselves from his cursed name."

Y/n's eyes darted around, hopelessly. The headmaster who'd offer them warm smiles and winks whenever she scored more than a pureblood in classes at Hogwarts was against them. Not only that, but the man who always talked about justice for muggles and muggle borns and viewed purist prejudices with upmost disdain, who claimed Hogwarts would always help those in need, refused to offer Sirius a fair trial. And the old wizard had too much power and authority -having saved the wizarding world from Grindelwald - within the Ministry of Magic to succeed as long as he's against them.

"How can you do that to him?" The witch cried when she caught up with Dumbledore. With a nod to the Aurors, they all dismissed the newest Black, leaving y/n alone with her protests. "He trusted you!"

"As have I, him. But he betrayed us all."

"You don't know that. You don't." She shook her head.

But Dumbledore just smiled sadly and apparated away. Next time she saw him, it was much or less the same. Y/n just learned that Harry, her godson, would be placed in Petunia's care. Being friends with Lily since birth, having suffered alongside her the hateful words of Petunia upon finding out about magic, the witch knew he wouldn't be safe or loved there.

"Open the Potters will, then! They'd want me to take care of him."

"Unfortunately, miss Black, we cannot do that," the tiny judge spoke. "It has come to our understanding that the boy must be near his blood relatives, for safety reasons I am not to divulge."

Y/n had seen the pleased twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes as the court was dismissed and she, yet again, lost the case. "Those people hate magic and anyone who wields it as much as purists hate my guts. Why sent my godson there when he could be with someone who actually loves him?"

"I believe you have enough on your hands as it is."

"Let me decide if I can or cannot handle raising two kids!"

But the old wizard walked away on them again. All the secrets and strings pulling made y/n suspicious. So she started invastigating Dumbledore, if only to pass the time since every time she made a discovery, the Ministry would laugh in their face.

Later that year, she received a letter. Kreacher had knocked on the small apartment's door, which surprised the muggle born witch and pulled her out of the lenient state of mind for a few seconds.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to deliver his letter to the blood traitor and his wife. Kreacher did, now Kreacher can go back to poor, heartbroken mistress."

Dear brother,

Sirius,

don't break, torn, shred, burn or damage in anyway this letter, please!

Dear brother and darling sister,

If this letter found you, I am no longer on this side of the Veil. I'm sorry you have to learn the news of my passing this way. I expect mother to not invite you at the funeral, but please know it's in vain. As my body lies on the bottom of the sea and each heartbeat drags on for you.

I mean it, Sirius. Don't snort. I know you believe me as worse as our depraved family. But I had to play their game for a chance to win. Not all of us can be bold lions. Some slither through with schemes. And because I know your noble heart won't let you laugh at the pun until you know the truth, here it is: I'm trying to kill the Dark Lord from within.

I found that he made himself as close to an immortal as humans can go. He created horcruxes. Ask y/n, she most probably knows what those are. Too smart for you, my dear sister in law. Anyway, I managed to find one, and I intend to destroy it. But there are more. I don't know how many, or what they are or where. But I trust the Order to put an end to him eventually.

Until then, I must do whatever it takes to assure the Dark Lord will not survive for long. If I don't come back from it, as it the case if you read these lines, then don't mourn me.

I'm sorry, y/n, for causing you and my brother pain like this. I'm sorry Sirius, for not being a good enough brother. I'll make it up to both of you on the other side. After all, we're not saying goodbye. Because goodbye means forgetting, as y/n likes to say, and I will never forget the two most important people in my life.

Thank you, for everything you did for me

I'm sorry

Until we meet again,

R.A.B

She picked herself up. It was night already. A headache pinched at their temples. Y/n poured a cup of coffee and watched it chill as she packed the papers in boxes. There was no use of them, anyway. She can't take down a man like Dumbledore all by themself.

10 years later

Y/n has just put their son to sleep. The nine years old boy looked everything like his father. From the grey eyes and black hair, to his long eyelashes and arched eyebrows. He even got Sirius' gift of getting in troubles, but mostly managing to talk his way out of it. She lit a cigarette from the stove in the kitchen and poured themself a cup pf coffee. She ignored the cabinet of drinks. After the complications she suffered with the pregnancy because of it, y/n swore off alcohol.

A rapid knock on the door startled them. "Coming!"

Heart skipped a beat. Breathing quickened its ins and outs. Face went pale and eyes widened to cereal bowls of breakfast. Mouth moved, but the vocal chords refused to sound out words.

"Hello, sister dearest," Regulus smiled hesitantly, looking up and down from his shoes to the witch who stood frozen in the door.

"Reg- how? But... you died."

"I had to fake it, y/n. Sorry. May I come in?"

She nodded. Her brows slowly furrowed as shock turned to anger after registering his words. As soon as she closed the door and Regulus planted himself in the middle of the hallway, their fury was the only thing she could focus on.

"You had to fake it?!" Y/n whisper screeched. "You sent me a suicide note, for fuck's sake! You could have make it a 'hey, don't tell anyone I'm alive and pretend I died' letter, but no, the dramatic, brooding Regulus Black had to make it all sad and angsty! Right?" Y/n started to run out of breath, but managed to beat the Black heir with one more line thrown at him. "Give me one good reason not to hex the living shit out of you."

"I found a way to destroy the horcruxes."

Silence. Y/n took one long gulp of air after another, eyes closed. She nodded, licking their lips in an attempt to clear the chaos inside their mind. The witch brushed y/h/c strands of hair, pushing some under the ear. "Alright, ok, yeah, that's a pretty good reason."

Sensing the tension was dimming down, Regulus took the liberty to sit on the couch. Y/n disappeared in the kitchen, bringing back a trail of tea and cookies. Biting into one, more to have something to focus on than actual craving or hunger, Regulus almost spit it out.

"I should've warned you," y/n laughed. "My son's diabetic. Can't have sugar in those."

" 'S'ok. So, what happened since I left?"

The witch arched an eyebrow at the phrasing, but in truth, she didn't want to fill him in. After all, there were only bad news. "What do you want to know?"

"You mentioned a son. My nephew, how old is he?"

"Nine." Y/n smiled largely thinking of him. "You have to meet him, Reggie. He's the carbon copy of his father."

Regulus chuckled. "How does Sirius handles it? He must be out of his head with pride"

The short joy broke off y/n's face at the mention of their husband. She casted their y/c/e gaze downwards, rubbing their arms on the tight jeans material on their thighs.

"What? What happened?"

"Sirius' in Azkaban, Reggie. 'Been so for ten years. He never met his son."

The Black heir's face fell. After his sister in law explained the situation, he jumped to hos feet outraged. "I spent most of my time in Hogwarts being jealous on Potter for stealing my brother away. There is no way Sirius betrayed him!"

"I'm already convinced of that. The jury's a harsher public, though." The witch joked bitterly.

"What if I vouch for him?"

"They'd probably lock you up the second you're seen, Regulus. You played the part of loyal Death Eater scaringly well."

"Then I'd take his place. I probably deserve it. More than him, anyway. Sirius should be free, enjoying life with you and his son. He earned that much."

"Shut up, Reggie. I'm not switching the Black brothers. Sirius would never forgive me if I agree to this."

"I'll show Dumbledore what I discovered, then. I don't trust the man, but surely he'll help after that."

Y/n scoffed. With a flex of their wand she brought out the carton boxes, full of files that'd get Dumbledore a death penalty if the wizarding world had such a thing. Regulus skimmed through some, his usual bored, cold expression morphing into shock, disgust and eventually anger.

"Yeah, should've listened to Pandora when she fled the Order after Mary's death. She stood up, accused Dumbledore of being a murderer and called him a 'manipulative, deranged, old twat' then dragged Xen out the door." Y/n explained when Regulus looked questioningly at them. Hearing about his best friend's antics, the Black heir smiled.

"How's she?"

"Reggie," y/n started. She wet her lips, passed a hand over their face and leaned forward, taking Regulus' fingers between their own. "She died, Reggie. I'm sorry."

The wizard broke the contact instantly. He paced the room for several minutes, index fingers pressed under his eyes to stop the tears from flooding his face. But nothing could stop the heartbreaking sobs that shook his body. "How?"

"An experiment gone wrong."

"Impossible." Regulus said immediately. Pandora had been the brightest witch he ever met. There's no planet, universe or alternative reality where Pandora Lovegood could mess up so badly.

"That's what they say. Something was wrong with the powder she used."

"Pandora always buys only the best. She checks it herself. Every, single, time."

"She had it delivered. Had to watch her daughter."

Regulus widened his eyes, a soft gaps parting his lips at the mention of his goddaughter. "How's little Luna?"

Y/n shrugged helplessly. "She saw it. Was there when the lab exploded. She survived unscratched, but..."

"No." Regulus breathed. "No. Poor thing. She- who sold it to Pandora? The powder, you said..." the wizard's thoughts ran too fast to translate into words. But he hooked on the information he had, on someone to blame, to take his vengeance on.

"Dumbledore. Off the records."

Regulus stared at his sister in law for what seems to be hours. Struggling to understand what she was saying. Then, he furrowed his brows. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"Pandora wrote to me. On a weekly basis. I have the letter in one of these," she waved around the boxes. "She said she needed pixie powder and Hogwarts was the quickest way to get that. But Dumbledore wanted to keep it hidden. 'M not sure why Pandora agreed, seeing her obvious doubts about the headmaster, but..."

"Bloody hell!" Regulus cursed. "Bloody hell," he seated himself again, bouncing his right leg on the puffy carpet while twirling his bottom lip between his index and thumb. "Didn't he also kept the Mcdonald girl's death a secret?"

"Mary, yes. She died before graduation and Dumbledore said he didn't want to worry the students and their parents before the ceremony. Promised the whole situation will be handled and the culprit caught and punished," y/n laughed humorlessly. "Come to think of it, Mary was quite opposed to him too. Called the headmaster out on sending children to war."

"I see..."

"...a pattern? So did I." She gestured to the boxes again, suggestively. "I thought I might get Sirius out of prison if I prove that Dumbledore's not what he seems. I thought it'd get Sirius a trial, at least and I could've prove his innocence."

"But it's hard to get at such a high placed man." Regulus finished their thought. She nodded, bowling their fists as Regulus clasped his jaws together so hard a swift click was heard from it.

"I can help you, sister darling. If we work together, Slytherin cunning and Ravenclaw genius, we'll get my brother out. Then we'll destroy the horcruxes before one of the Dark Lord's mindless followers get any ideas to revive him."

Y/n smiled and nodded. But a stray thought stopped the movement in mid unfolding. "We can't."

"What? We can't what?"

"Destroy the horcuxes, Reggie. We can't," the witch's voice became frantic. Regulus thought she's panicking. After all, he did wrote to them that he doesn't know the number of such dark objects Voldemort has. "Don't worry. What I found, will allow us to destroy them all using only the one we have: the medallion I gave Kreacher. He must still have it."

"No, Reggie. You don't understand. Harry's a- Harry is one." Y/n couldn't bring themself to say it out loud, what se discovered recently in their research on the old wizard in charge of Hogwarts. The sweet little boy she helped raise, marked and used by the Dark Lord as a container for his rotten soul.

"Harry? Who's Harry?"

"James and Lily's son, Reggie. Merlin!" She exhaled. "The whole wizarding world, probably, or at least the entire wizarding Britain - for sure - knows who Harry Potter is. Were you living under a stone?"

"More or less," Regulus admitted mysteriously. But y/n could inquire about that later. Now, she had to explain to him what she pieced together. About Harry being the prophecy child, the Dark Lord's equal. About how he'll have to sacrifice himself to rid the world of Voldemort forever. "Because he made baby Harry his last horcrux," whispered Regulus once his sister in law finished talking. "Fuck!"

"Indeed," y/n pressed their lips in a thin line, eyeing the wizard in front of them. The messy hair, cut here and there in uneven patches. The bags under his eyes and dried lips. The unusual palor of his skin, lack of color in his cheeks pushing his bones more prominently to be seen. How his clothes hanged loose and were mudded all over. Not one spot of his outfit spared of dark brown dots - she hoped was dirt and not blood - or sunked in smelly water.

"Well, little brother, welcome home," she got up, pointing to the clock on the wall. " 'Tis late. We can untangle this whole shit tomorrow. Get a shower and I'll ready the couch for you." She smiled at him. Regulus wanted to protest, but their words fully registered in his mind. "Little brother," he smiled longingly. "Does it mean I'm forgiven."

"For plotting all alone and going on a suicidal mission, having me and you brother believe you went rough? Or for faking your death even to me and adding another person to grieve on my already limping heart?" Y/n crossed their arms, stopping from throwing pillows off the couch to extend it for only as long as she talked. Once she returned to the job at hand, she threw over their shoulder. "No to either, Reggie. But I am glad you're back. I missed you, little brother."

Y/n gasped when she felt a pair of arms coming around their shoulders and a head resting atop of their own. She was two years older than Regulus, having been in the same year with Sirius at Hogwarts, but the Black heir still towered over them with a couple of centimeters. "Good to be back, y/n. I missed you too."

The witch hid their affectionate smile, but turned around and wrapped their hands around Regulus, returning the hug. She traced their fingers through his hair, discovering places where he was completely bold and pressed a soft kiss on his temple. "Shower. Bed. Then we sort things out and get our family back. Yeah?" She ordered, not really expecting an answer.

It came, anyway. "Yeah. And our revenge."

masterlist

requests

#regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #young regulus black #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #regulus black imagine #regulus x reader #young sirius black #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #wife reader #sister in law #reader #regulus fic #regulus fanfiction #the marauders era #sirius in azkaban #my fic #my writing #dumbledore slander #pandora lovegood #luna lovegood #harry potter #james and lily #secret keeper #the dark lord #voldemort #death eaters

[the-night-writer1]

Ayo tell me how Red Son and MK meet in the Red Son Of the Dead AU

You got it my dude)

It all happened so quickly. No one knows where the virus started just that suddenly demons where going insane and humans who were infected didn't fair much better.

The infected demons would become rage filled flesh craving beasts and humans infected would slowly turn into jagged walking corpses just as blood thirsty.

The infection itself appeared out of the blue, and the name it had been given was "hell's madness" because demons were the first to catch it. It has the normal zombie movie virus catching method of bodily fluids.

Within a couple days everything seemed to be falling apart. Within a week and half people were hiding in strongholds while waiting rescue or the sweet taste of death. 3 weeks in there were very few strongholds.

Where was Red son in this madness? On his way to free his father. Father was all Red son had left. Mother had gotten infected a few days ago. Pushing Red son into the heavy fortified lab and locking herself outside it.

He was reeling and the only thing that could distract him from the lost was freeing his father. He messily put the power enhancer together but Red son didn't care. He needed his father! Surely father know what to do and where to go. Red son didn't... couldn't do anything for himself.

He needed his father. He'd lost his mother. Red son ran into the long abandoned construction area. He'd incinerated all the infected that had come in to his path so far. There weren't many here so he probably have time to explain to father what was going on.

---

Mk filled the back of the noodle bike with as much food as he could. The last of the noodle shop's stock, at least he didn't run into any zombies on the way here so that was a good thing.

"phew. Glad Pigsy had the stock room password protected" Mk said to himself as he got the bike and got back the road. He thought about if he could carry anything else while he drove back to mei's mansion.

The bike was going pretty slow thanks to the weight. He also didn't have his limited addison Monkey king bat anymore so no way to defend himself.

As he was driving a glimmer of light caught his attention. Hey it was probably a distress signal! More people for the Long family stronghold! Mk sped off following it from his beaten path.

He shivered as he arrived at the abandoned construction area. He could barely hear someone struggling with something. He went down the elevator just as he heard a loud boom!

"NOOO" A voice yelled of pain and desperation," No! No no please it has to work! I don't have time for this. I must rescue father!! Please just work."

Xiaotian ran towards the voice and made out a figure with bright smooth Red hair. Their left arm completely mangled. The figure turned hearing Mk's footsteps coming towards him. His beautiful blue eyes staring at Mk in surprise a fire ball in his good hand.

"I didn't- what are you talking about peasant" The demon said as he made the fire ball disappeared," explain yourself"

"I'm not infected!" Mk said as he slid to a stop and put his hands up,"I saw. Your signal thingy and came to take a look."

"I saw a signal coming from here and thought oh someone who can join my buddy's stronghold. So I came down to you in hopes of helping you out"

Red son let out a sad snort before just laughing through tears as he wiped his face,"Seriously you think you can help me then move that staff."

"really that'll help?" Mk asked as look at the staff that stuck out of a little green hill amongst the metal and concrete that surrounding them. Mk stepped forward and grabbed hold of the colorful staff. It reminded him of the toy Monkey king staffs except it was made of wood instead plastic.

Mk pulled on the thing with all his might as the poor injured guy watched him. Man it was really stuck in there. Good thing he been working out slightly!

Red son grabbed on to the staff with his functioning arms when he quickly noticed the boy was getting it to move. They pulled on the staff until it flew up at Mk's face.

"Well I got your staff out-" Mk started to saw before the floor burst into momentary gold light. A massive roar echoing out as the two boys stood there. The Ox king stood up cracking his back as he looked at them.

"Father we don't have much time! We need to flee the world it's-" Red son said quickly before the three heard a godly screech in the distance.

Oh no, it was mother.

"dear why do you scream are you that-" Mowang said as he turned to see his wife. He was instantly filled with dread, her hair was unkempt and her teeth were jagged even for demon. Her exposed body was covered in thick black vein and dried blood. Her clothes ripped in places. He looked at at his boy, his injured and shaking boy.

The boy was in danger and something was wrong with his wife. Mowang did not have enough time to think as his love charged at him and bit into his arm. He flung her off their son screamed in horror.

"Save my boy!" The Demon bull king yelled as he gripped his arm. His body began to burn and scream as his vision started to turn red.

Mk grabbed Red son as the bull king was taken over by the virus. Red son stared in disbelief as his father barely missed them with a swing.

The woman blocked the exit on one side and the bull was right behind them. Thus Mk and Red son were forced into a crevice. The boy pulling Red son in by his injured arm. Red broke down into a sobbing mess.

Partly because of physical pain and mostly because he ruined everything!

"it's all my fault. It's all my fault, you don't even know who I am and my foolishness is going to get us killed!" Red cried out as he hit his against the wall. Tears streaming down his face.

"hey! No we'll get out of here we just have to wait them out!" Mk said he jammed the staff between the two walls. He ripped work jack off and ripped it apart as the ground shook with the bull King's heavy steps. He needed to wrap up that arm and did so while the demons pounded at the walls. Some tears in his eyes as well.

At least he wouldn't be dying alone Mk thought as he wrapped ripped up parts of his jacket around the other man's arm.

" Since we're totally getting out here, can I get your name handsome" Mk said in a panic as he finished up. The walls started to break around the staff. Strangely they never tried to lift or pull on the thing," I'm Xiaotian but everyone calls Mk you know for Monkey kid"

"I am Red son" Red son through tears as he pulled the other behind him. This "Xiaotian" didn't deserve to die for his failings. He gritted his teeth and trying to convince himself that he needed to fight,"I'll try to buy you some time Xiaotian. I don't know how long I will be able to get you"

"No I'm not leaving you to face them alone! We can squeeze farther back Red!" Mk said as he tried to push pass Red to grab the staff before the two were blinded by a bright light for a moment.

Mk rubbed his eyes as his left hand touched fur. His eyes widened as he saw the monkey king. Red son also stared in disbelief once again. That fucking monkey came to save them?!

#red son of the dead au #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #monkie kid #lmk mk #lmk red son #lmk dbk #lmk pif #lmk wukong

[worstloki]

Concept: Because of going through Ebony Maw's torture repeatedly, Loki has cracks on his skin, all of them spiralling out of where Maw dug his needles in. His body is pretty much covered in cracks, from his cheeks down to his legs. He covers them all with a glamour.

“Brother, you’re becoming predictable.”

Thor crouches down next to Loki who is twitching on the ground, held in place, immobile, by the obedience disk he had attached to the back of his shoulder, just in case the need to manage him had arose. And, it has.

“I trust you, you betray me, round and round—” Thor’s smile drops, and he watches in horror as the blood vessels visible across only half of Loki’s face start to fade from a heated purple into blue, snaking over its entirety, like sharp folds of marquina marble.

Loki’s eyes widen slightly, and his mouth opens in an attempt to speak, though he doesn’t manage any sound except a quickly cut-off choke. He continues convulsing, and Thor averts his gaze over to Loki’s hands, palms partially gloved, only to find the same shades of blue bleeding through, like cracks in his skin; glistening cracks with a silvery outline that doesn’t manage to conceal what those exact blues mean to Loki. Or what they mean to Thor.

Those, as much as Thor wills to think it so, despite the colour, are not the natural markings of Jotun. He has fought Jotnar, and for all he’d been told of Loki being a frost giant he had been under the impression that even small for one, he at least looked as they did.  

The fissures run, outlines in silvery blue, to the tips of his fingers, Thor notes, and they are denser and coalesce through the centres of the palms and the areas directly under the cheekbones, from whence they spiral out.

They also slip under his sleeves and neckline, and Thor refuses to assume anything further than he can see; he refuses to imagine the rest of his brother’s skin divided in a mosaic of pales and blues, a harried patchwork of scars messily painted on, to imagine it a signifier of suffering passed, but also as a reminder infused into his very being. That Loki had been— that he is broken. Thor refuses.

But he has lived a millennia and a half through battles —albeit most on smaller scales than inter-realm warfare— but he immediately knows.

He can recognize torture. 

And he can recognize magic.

And Thor refuses to think what combination of physical and psychological stress could do this to Loki of all people. Loki. The Loki he’d known his whole life to be the most stable, persevering and reserved person in mind. The same who would joke and run his mouth and cause mischief but also the brother he trusted to always be at his side. The Loki he’d pitch to be an unbreakable companion, both in mind and heart, whose mastery of seiðr and knives, however unconventional, were indicative of his strength, his control, his pride. 

And now Thor doesn’t even know why or for how long Loki has concealed this fractured form from him— he doesn’t know if Loki would have ever told him freely. Or if this too would’ve been another family secret carefully constructed to keep him in the dark, to mark him as untrustworthy to know. Another silent battle, locked away.

“You’ll always be a liar, Loki,” Thor concludes, disappointed, knowing what he has said to be true, for who else but a coward would hide something like this? Something Thor may have at a time been able to have helped with, but now has no information nor empathy to spare, not for him.

Thor stands, turning his back to the alarm in Loki’s eyes, the slight shake of his head as if trying to refute the truth Thor can see with his own eyes.

He’s too hurt and angry at another of Loki’s deceptions to care about anything right now. He wants to go to Asgard and salvage what he can of the people he knows, who he trusts wouldn’t conceal themselves behind falsities, especially those of being alright when so much is wrong. 

Thor holds down on the remote in his hand, releasing the obedience disk’s hold on Loki, so that he may recast whatever illusion he no doubt wants to shield himself with, and he walks away, towards the ship.

Thor regrets not waiting till he was further away to relieve him of the pain when Loki’s ragged breathing breaks into voice behind him, and what he’d seen of Loki’s hands flash through his mind’s eye: cracks across his slender fingers and soft palms, cobalt streaks spreading around his wrist, which no doubt grow stronger rather than fainter further up the arm, likely another focal point for the corruption marks at the shoulder, the largest swirls emerging through the base of his sternum pierced through to covet both his back and chest in slivered crevices giving the illusion of shattered glass, another centrepoint a hairs-width above his hips on each side, rifts of blue emerging from the space between the lower thigh and knee in both directions, cracks curling around his feet from the roof of the ankle like vines. And, of course, the jagged cuts of blue he’d seen across his face. 

At the same time he also sees his brother as he’s known him for centuries, whatever he’d show of his entire body always unmarked, the same facial structure, the same bony wrists and hair and softness— but now he doubts how much of that, if any of it, was real. 

Thor closes his eyes hard to hold back the welling tears, as if anything Loki says can be a half-decent attempt to justify— as if any reason could ever be worth forgiveness for dismissively concealing something like this, which has impacted all of him enough for his own magic to taint his body in such a way of defense, to have pieced together whatever parts of him it could, and decide to hold him together so desperately under the distress he so evidently faced alone.

Loki speaks, barely loud enough to make it to Thor’s ears over the sound of the dimming alarms as he walks, almost as if Loki’s words are first and foremost for himself, as if he is the one who needs the comfort of them, and Thor a mere spectator.

“My skin was already a lie; I just added a few words of my own to it.”

Thor’s heart shutters and he feels his resolve crumbling. He ignores the pain in his chest and keeps walking away. 

#i liked the concept 👉👈 #and may have added some lore too #so basically #loki ends up with thanos and the bois #and he's super durable so Maw has plenty of fun with the needles and everything #but #after Loki gets out of his depressed defying-not-having-a-purpose funk his magic (which was already stressed by his emotional roller-coaster #decides that psychological issues of internalized racism but also refusing to die means that instead of the torture killing him #or instead of healing like a normal person #he ends up healing with cracks that are all jotun-y #he heals over all the injuries maw left him with #of course Mr Ebony could just keep cutting him #but... this guy has magic... and he's strong and durable... and his attitude just flipped #he's clearly emotionally imbalanced so why not recruit him instead? #he's proven he can make good of a bad situation and the mind stone loves strong emotions #so just hook him up there #meanwhile loki's stuck with a reminder that it's not just his hand that's blue or another skin #now his aesir one shows his jotun side too #he's just got to live with that now #so he covers it up and deprioritizes it #because that's how we cope #so anyway that's the lore #and yes thor cares about loki but it's more in relation to what changes to loki mean to himself #you can decide if loki still decides to show up to save asgard or if thor's repressed anger at loki made him win the hela vs thor fight #ficlet

[agerefandom]

The TARDIS Playroom

Fandom: Doctor Who

Characters: Regressor!Thirteenth Doctor, Graham O’Brien

Words: 2,000

Summary: The TARDIS has had a playroom for a long time, and The Doctor doesn’t spend enough time in there. One day, while she’s regressing, Graham wanders into the TARDIS and finds her playing.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of, aside from the accidental regression reveal! Little bit of baby talk around a pacifier near the end. Also, I didn’t bother to correct all my Canadianisms in this fic (ie. ‘pacifier’ instead of ‘dummy’), apologies if that bothers anyone!

for @andromedaspace​

It wasn’t often that The Doctor took a day off. There was always something interesting to do, somewhere to be, sometime that needed help getting back on track. But occasionally there was a lull: companions visiting families, no emergency broadcasts screeching through the TARDIS, just the hum of the ship and countless miles of corridors stretching into paradox space.

And then, maybe, if things had been busy lately, and there were injuries to nurse, and too many close calls… The Doctor would rest.

From the console room, the sounds of a Sheffield street could be heard through the front doors. Those doors were locked, the TARDIS tucked away into a little alcove between two fences down the street from Graham and Ryan’s house. Further into the TARDIS, music could be heard: an upbeat France Gall song. Hard to place the music in the twisting, impossible hallways of the TARDIS, but not impossible. Down a flight of stairs, and turning to the left, an open door revealed The Doctor’s current whereabouts.

Most of the TARDIS was warmly lit, crystals growing up the walls and in the centre of larger rooms. This room was no exception, stalactites hanging from the ceiling and providing a golden glow, but the floor wasn’t grated metal like the rest of the TARDIS. Here, the floor was covered in carpets, messily tossed over each other, and pillows and blankets on top of that, giving the room an appearance of a large and badly constructed bed.

The Doctor sat in the middle of the chaos, happily sucking on her pacifier. She’d chosen a new one after her most recent regeneration, blue and patterned with yellow jewels that sparkled in the crystal lights above her. A series of stuffed creatures were spread around her, some of the bigger ones leaning against the walls, and two of her favourites currently chatting in her lap, held up by her hands.

The policies of the N’ga’shto are more complicated than you’re making them seem! the blue Knashta was saying.

You’re being deliberately obtuse, his companion responded, a plush puppy The Doctor had picked up in Munich in 2032. The great Ish’ka is clearly a figurehead, and cannot be held responsible for the actions of his parliament.

The Doctor tilted her head back and forth between the two stuffies, making them bobble their heads as they argued. The act of playing pretend wasn’t something that had been practiced on Gallifrey, but the school-children were encouraged to debate foreign policy and challenge each other’s ability to recall the elders’ teachings. She enjoyed merging the two activities, watching her soft friends argue about things that mattered. If things got too intense or she got stuck, everything could be solved with a big hug and a nap. That was how playtime worked.

Sure enough, both the Knashta and unusually smart puppy were distracted when the next song came on, and started to dance, their soft legs tossing back and forth as The Doctor made them dance together. She laughed, her pacifier muffling the sound, and rolled onto her back, holding her plushies close. The puppy’s fur tickled her neck, and she pushed him off with a reproachful glance. The Doctor did not like to be tickled.

Well… did she? She certainly hadn’t, in most of her regenerations, but she didn’t think anyone had tried yet. Yasmin and Ryan would occasionally get into spats, trying to poke each other’s sides, but they never went after Graham or The Doctor. She would have to find some way to figure that out!

The Doctor ran her fingers down her sides, but it didn’t feel very ticklish when she did it. Sighing, she rolled over on top of her Knashta plush and rested her forehead on the carpeted floor. This was one of her favourites in the room, a rich oriental pattern that was so very soft to lie on. She ran her hands over the fabric, humming happily, and then pushed herself back to sitting.

It was while The Doctor was pushing herself up that she finally saw Graham standing in the hallway, hand raised as if to knock on the open door.

Her mouth opened in surprise and her pacifier fell out, landing on one of the pillows under her knees. She clutched her Knashta to her chest, automatically defensive. There was no reason to be scared, she knew, not of Graham, but this was her secret room, and he wasn’t supposed to see all this!

Oh, but she had been stupid, not asking the TARDIS to let her know if one of her companions used their key to come for a visit.

“I can go if it’s a bad time?” Graham said, finally lowering his hand from where it had been hovering by the door. “I didn’t mean to bother you, Doc. I texted a while ago and you didn’t get back to me.”

The Doctor had left her phone in the pocket of her normal clothes, which she didn’t wear at playtime. All at once, she was very aware of her bare knees. She loved her shorts and all of their many pockets, but they weren’t for people-time, they were for playtime! She tugged a pillow out of the pile and pushed it against her knees, frowning in Graham’s direction.

Then she felt bad for being rude: Graham hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. She was the one who hadn’t texted back.

“Ah, sorry,” she managed, gesturing for the TARDIS to turn the music off. “Don’t have my phone with me. Was it… important?” The Doctor tilted her head to the side.

“Not in the least,” Graham chuckled. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come for dinner, that’s all. Going to flex my cooking muscles, make some stir fry. Very impressive stuff.”

“Mmm.” The Doctor nodded, making her lips smile.

“Listen, I really am sorry for coming in without shouting first.” Graham pushed his hands into his pockets, looking guilty. “TARDIS has started to feel a little too much like home, but it’s your ship. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No, no!” Oh, she’d made everything bad and now Graham would feel uncomfortable and he wouldn’t want to come and visit her anymore. “I, you can come anywhere! The TARDIS is your home! This room isn’t just for me, it’s nice for sleepovers, and… I can share?” The Doctor held her stuffie out in front of her, trying not to look too worried.

“That’s a nice gesture, Doc. May I come in?”

“Yes, of course! No shoes.” The Doctor sat back on her heels and watched Graham toe off his boots, stepping onto the soft patchwork surface of the carpets. He was looking around, and The Doctor followed his gaze: mismatched pillows, piles of soft bedding, stuffed animals bigger than she could wrap her arms around, all scattered across the space. Did Graham think it was weird?

“Do you hate it?” she heard herself ask. She never did have a very good brain to mouth filter.

“Hate it?” Graham seemed genuinely surprised by the question. “No, kiddo, it looks super cozy. How often do you spend time here?”

The Doctor attempted to untangle timelines in her mind, straighten them out along human measurements.

“Every few months?” she guessed, rubbing the Knashta’s head between its many button eyes. “Not a lot.”

“That’s a crying shame.” Graham folded himself into a sitting position in front of her, hands on his knees. “Space like this deserves lots of time. Look at all these blankets!” He looked at her for permission as he reached out, and The Doctor liked that. She gave him a nod, and he tugged one of the fuzzy blankets onto his lap. “There, now I feel cozy.” He tucked it in around his knees and toes, and settled down with a sigh. “Who’s your friend?”

“They’re a Knashta,” The Doctor said, fighting down a silly wave of shyness as she held her friend out for Graham to see. “They’re a rebel and they don’t like big leaders, but they lack revolutionary nuance.”

“And do they have a name?”

The Doctor shook her head. She didn’t name most of her stuffies because remembering all those names would take a lot of memory space, and she preferred to remember the names of all the real people she saw from day to day.

“Hmmm, would you mind if I gave them a name?” Graham asked, running a hand over his stubbly cheeks as he smiled. The Doctor knew that Graham only did that when he was really happy, and usually when he was outside in the sun. It was nice that he was doing it here, with her, in the crystal-lit playroom of the TARDIS.

“You can give them a name if you want.” The Doctor’s shoulders were starting to hurt from holding up the plushie, but she would hold them up until they received a name. Names were important, so Graham needed to look closely.

“Well, let’s think for a moment.” Graham rubbed his chin, pushed his eyebrows together, and pursed his lips. The Doctor fought down a laugh at his exaggerated thinking expression. “I’ve got it! They look like a Greg.”

“Greg?” The Doctor said dubiously, looking at the Knashta. Knashtar usually had much longer names, but sometimes they took shorter nicknames when visiting other planets. It could be short for Gr’egtha’shvantanos, which was a proper Knashta name.

“Undoubtedly.” Graham smacked his hands against his knees. “I’d know a Greg anywhere.”

The Doctor brought Greg back to her chest, hugging them firmly. Their eyes pressed against the bottom of her chin, but that was alright. No one said love was easy. “I love Greg.”

“They love you too,” Graham said.

“Do they?” The Doctor wasn’t sure why the question slipped out of her. All of her friends in the playroom loved her, and she loved them. That was what plushies were for, loving and being loved. Soft and simple and comforting.

“There’s not a person who can get a hug from you and not love you, Doc. Take my word on it.”

The Doctor hid her smile behind her newly named Greg, glancing up to see Graham with a matching grin.

“You dropped this, by the way.” Graham hooked a finger through the handle of her pacifier and brought it up. “Yours, kiddo?”

The Doctor nodded reluctantly. She had been hoping Graham hadn’t seen it, but he clearly had. That was one of the things that wasn’t a people-time thing. Even if it was very comforting and helped her think, even when she was big.

“Here you go.” Graham offered it to her and The Doctor opened her mouth automatically. Graham blinked: oh, he’d wanted to hand it to her. Before The Doctor could correct her mistake, he reached forward and popped the dummy into her mouth. She hummed, relaxing with the familiar pressure on her tongue.

“T’nk y’u,” she said around the pacifier.

“Not a problem,” Graham said, and patted her on the head. Oh, that was nice… she had so missed people touching her hair. Almost before she knew what she was doing, she chased the touch, pressing into Graham’s hand. “Oh! Hello.” Graham chuckled, but willingly scratching his fingers through her hair, all the way to the back of her scalp.

The Doctor melted, her head coming to rest on Graham’s knee, with Greg the Knashta held close against her. They were her new favourite. But also, Graham was her new favourite, as long as he kept petting her head.

“Well. You’re over here now,” he said, and moved a piece of her hair out of her face. “Big flop, Doc. Thinking about a nap?”

“M’ybe,” The Doctor sighed, closing her eyes as Graham started to comb his fingers through her hair again.

“I’ve gotta be home at six to start dinner, but there’s plenty of time for a nap before then. I’ll stay here with you.”

“L’v y’u,” The Doctor said, the world already getting softer around her. She could feel Graham’s affection and comfort radiating from his hands. Thanks to the physical contact, she was receiving vague thoughts and impressions, so she heard Graham’s response before he said it out loud.

“Love you too, kiddo. Sleep well.”

#fandom agere #agere writing #doctor who agere #dw agere #agere fanfiction #agere fics #sfw agere #agere stories #i love the doctor so so so much #they deserve the world #i also love graham very much #i love lots of people #anyways the knashta are totally made up!!! they're not from the show #if anyone's curious #my writing #my stories #doctor who

[det-loki]

poison & wine pt. seven

You think your dreams are the same as mine

warnings: suicide, blood/gore, angst

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 2,294

A/N: i am so sorry for the delay in updates, writers block slapped me in the face. this is a heavy chapter with a heavy subject, please be gentle and honest with yourself before reading. don’t force yourself. enjoy! xx

1  2  3  4  5  6   ⌽

 You sat in the interrogation viewing room as Loki sat in front of you staring at Bob Taylor through the glass. You weren’t getting anywhere questioning him, so in a last resort attempt, you had him draw a maze in hopes to find the little girls. This had been going on for three hours. You shifted in the office chair slowly, your joints cracking at you angrily for sitting in this position for so long. Neither you nor Loki had moved much in the past three hours, watching as Bob drew his maze and listening to him hum as he did so. You could feel the waves of anger and frustration rolling off of David as he stared ahead with his chin in his hand beside Officer Carter. 

The door opened behind you, Captain O’Malley leaning against the door frame, “How long has this Bob Taylor been workin’ on this map?”

“Three-and-a-half hours.” Loki quickly muttered before turning his attention back to Bob and the pages of maze drawings sprawled messily in front of him. 

“And you two think this is gonna lead you to the bodies? Cause I sure as shit don’t.”  O’Malley had been bothering you this entire case, creating unnecessary roadblocks for you and Loki, and David had had enough.

“Do me a favor, Captain. Go fuck yourself.” Loki snapped at O’Malley, who had no immediate reaction, he was used to this from David. “We weren’t getting anywhere questioning him.”

“That looks more like a maze than a map.” O’Malley walked closer to the window as he spoke, David getting more and more irritated with him.

“He’s got a thing for mazes. If you don’t have anything constructive to say, I’d appreciate it if you’d just fuck off and let us do our jobs.”  You spoke up from your perch in the office chair, snapping at O’Malley, who was not used to this attitude from you, it was usually David. This caused a twinge of worry to set on Captain O’Malley, if you were starting to lose it then that meant something bad, and that scared him more than he liked to admit. You were struggling to not fly off the handlebars along with David.

Captain O’Malley nodded his head once, “I’m goin’ home. Call me if somethin’ happens.” Loki huffed loudly as O’Malley left, the door clicking as it shut. You and Loki continued to watch Bob draw his mazes as Officer Carter sipped on his coffee quietly, the only sound filling the room was Bob’s broken humming. 

Loki snapped up from his rigid position, chair rolling back, snapping his fingers at Officer Carter to give him the key card to the interrogation room. You watched silently as Loki exited the room, too exhausted to question him. You adjusted in your seat, moving to the edge of it in case you needed to jump up. 

“All right, it’s done now.” Loki snapped at Bob, his voice wavering and you knew that something was wrong, David hit his breaking point. You knew David like the back of your hand, and you knew the past few hours had been a lot for the both of you. You stood from your seat, ignoring the questioning look Officer Carter sent you, stars exploding across your vision as you stumbled out of the room.

You opened the interrogation room door to hear Loki continuing to yell at Bob, asking him what he was drawing. Taylor’s nose continued to drip blood on the paper and the table, mixing with his tears, multiple pages of drawings spread across the table haphazardly. You looked at David, trying to meet his icy eyes to get him to reel it back in, but his eyes stayed trained on Bob in front of him. 

“Tell me what you’re drawing.” Loki waited a moment for a response, his arms crossed in front of him, sleeves pushed up his forearms, bunching at his elbow. More of his tattoos were exposed on his forearm, revealing more of yours and his history that had normally been hidden by clothing. The air in your lungs evaporated as Loki lunged for Bob, throwing him back against the backrest of the chair, hands intertwined tightly in the collar of Bob’s shirt as Bob cried out, “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can! Yes, you can!” Loki yelled in his face before throwing him forward against the table, the sound of an already broken nose cracking once again filled the air. You stepped forward quickly, hands grabbing at David’s bicep to try to pry him off of Bob. 

 “David, let go. You have to let go.” Your attempts were ignored as Loki continued to yell at Bob, his voice bouncing off the walls of the interrogation room. Behind you, the door flies open with Officers Carter and Wedge coming in and dragging Loki off of Bob. You shift in front of Bob, trying to calm him down as you see him reach for Officer Wedge’s gun. 

Your eyes widen as you yell out, “Gun!”  Loki and Carter draw their weapons as you continue to stand between them and Bob, pleading for Bob to listen to you and lower the weapon. You knew that two guns were being aimed at you, but you didn’t care, you were desperate. You also knew that if you made it out alive, David would be mad at you for standing in the middle of crossfire. You didn’t care anymore. At all. 

“Bob put the gun down, we can figure this out.” You pleaded with Bob as he held the gun to his chin, Loki behind you, yelling at you to move. Your head snaps around briefly to David, telling him to put the gun down. Bob was scared and two guns being pointed at him wasn’t helping the situation. Your hands are thrown in front of you in a calming gesture as you look at Bob with a gun aimed at his head. Tears pricked your eyes as you continued to plead with him. He couldn’t kill himself, both for the sake of you and this case. 

Everything happened in slow motion. The last thing you saw before dropping to the ground was Bob pulling the trigger with a shaking finger. Blood and brain matter splattered across the window behind him and pooled near you on the ground. Your ears were ringing as you felt Officer Carter nudge your shoulder and ask if you were okay as you nodded yes. Bob laid lifeless in front of you, limp. You were sure this image would haunt you forever, another nightmare added to the list. You sat up slowly and turned to see Loki run a shaking hand across his face, “Fuck. Go call a fuckin R.A.!” Officers Wedge and Carter ran out of the room, David standing with hands over his face and you on the ground, numb.

Your hands were covered in blood. You don’t remember how the blood got there , all you know is that the continuous scrubbing under the scalding hot water in the locker room isn’t working to get the red staining off. As you continued to scrub your hands raw, tears spilled over and down your face. You had just seen someone kill themselves, lost a lead to the case and you felt hopeless. Two little girls might be dead because of you. You felt arms snake around your waist, pulling your burning hands from the water. You struggled against David as you cried, his embrace tightening around you as you turned, your hands pounded weakly against his chest as you sobbed. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, apology after apology being whispered into your ear, David's hands clutching at your sides desperately so he didn’t fall apart. 

You felt hot tears on your neck, shifting in Loki’s arms to see him crying. You brought your red trembling hands to his face, wiping away the tears with your thumb. You hadn’t seen David cry since the funeral, the worst day of your life. Neither of you said anything, just savoring a fleeting moment of peace in each other's arms before you had to go face the real world. 

The next day, you sat in O’Malley’s office silently, Loki next to you with the maze drawing from Bob at his feet, he was in a place mentally far from here. He was hunched over, finger gliding over the paper, trying to find a way out as O’Malley poured whiskey into a glass for himself. He offered a glass to you and Lok but both of you declined, O’Malley combining both glasses in his own, not hiding his love for alcohol. You stared blankly at the ground, head pounding as O’Malley spoke, goosebumps raised across your arms, a chill ran through your body. The little girls were probably dead. You had seen a man kill himself. You haven't spoken to David more than 5 words at a time since the breakdown in the locker room. You encompassed the word ‘broken.’

“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about losing you two to PSP. Forensics is finished with the guy’s place, we’re gonna deploy the cadaver dogs. Look, kid, we can’t always save the day. All right? We’re just cops, janitors. So you lost this one, all right?” O’Malley had no idea what he was saying. He had no idea what this case meant to you or David. No one did.

You could feel O’Malley look between the two of you, “You two have gotten too involved with this case. You both look like hell.” You wanted to laugh. You did feel like hell. You had on one of David’s sweaters, opting for comfort, your hair messily pulled back, not having the energy to do anything more. Makeup hadn’t touched your face in a week, you’re dark circles engulfing your eyes. You definitely looked like hell. David was no better, his dark circles made him look sickly against his already pale skin, his stubble casting shadows on his face that made him appear much older than he actually was. Maybe you two were too invested, however neither of you said anything. 

O’Malley huffed and looked at David, “Look, you want fulfillment, you need to find a girl, you know, start a family, have some kids. Let it go.” Your world shattered at O’Malley’s words. David brought his hands to his hair, tattooed fingers raking through it as he did his best to not lash out at Captain. He did not know the weight his words carried.  Your little girl couldn’t just be let go. The complicated dynamic you and David had couldn’t just be let go. You and David were connected on a level deeper than anyone would ever be able to understand, the pair of you being present for every moment, the good, bad and the gruesome ugly. Foster homes, detention centers, halfway houses, grimey apartments, the police academy, even the fucking Chinese resteraunt, everything connected to you and David from the past flooded through your mind. 

You followed David out of the room, not daring to speak to him after what Captain had just said to him. You knew he was furious. His personal life was always a touchy subject for him, considering his past. You were also a touchy subject. No one knew about you and David’s relationship; you were the one good thing he had and he didn’t want others to tarnish it by knowing. You were his home, able to be himself and unleash his inner demons with no judgement. You had seen it all first hand anyway, where there was David, you usually weren’t far behind. Unbeknownst to you, David wanted everything O’Malley had said with you, a family, the white picket fence house, even a dog. He didn’t think he was good enough for you to have those things.

You sat at your desk as David sat at his behind you, waves of anger rolling off of him yet he hadn’t said a word yet. 

David finally snapped. You were counting the seconds, he made it to 47. He lashed out, shoving everything off of his desk, sending his computer monitor and papers flying. He sat at his chair for a moment, hands clasped in front of him, his body collapsed in over itself as everyone in the station turned to look in his direction. You watched from your chair only a few feet from him as he grabbed for his keyboard. He raised it above him, bringing it down against his desk twice, sending keys flying as the keyboard hinged against his force. The keyboard dropped from his hands, clattering on the carpeted floor as David brough a shaking hand to his face.

Looking down you see a key from the smashed keyboard. Leaning down, you pick up the key and stand, bringing it over to Loki. He had a picture of the corpse from the priest’s basement in his hands along with the maze drawing, studying it with an intensity that scared you. Your eyes dart from the pictures to the toy RV from Alex's room that had been knocked onto the ground. You looked between the two pictures, the significance clicking.

The maze drawing and the pendant on the corpse matched. Perfectly.

David’s phone ringing brought you back as he fumbled for it from his black shirt pocket. You could vaguely hear the person on the other line, “Hey, it’s Rich. We found something.”

You knew you and David needed to properly talk, and you definitely needed to call your therapist, but it had to wait. You needed to solve this, even if it tore you from the inside out. Even if it killed you.

tag list: . @lexie-wayland @whew-oh-em-gee @winterlavenderskysworld​ @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee @pinkpunkdynamite @eleventhdoctorsangel @multiyfandomgirl40 @thanossexual​ @speedybonkuniversityzine​ @booklove103​ @curly-q3 @msfarr88​ 

#detective loki #detective loki fanfic #detective loki fanfiction #detective loki imagine #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #prisoners #Prisoners 2013 #hugh jackman #fanfiction #detective #angst #poison and wine

[kurts-still-here]

Untitled Kurtbastian Fic Glee TOT Challenge FanFiction

It’s Just A Fork Glee TOT Challenge FanFiction

@celery-elliry @useless-fanfictions @gleethisorthatchallenge

Hi everyone, this is my sixth and finial fic for the Glee TOT Challenge and the prompt I choose was Shower Sex because I’m bad at smut and this seemed like the easier option lol. Hope everyone enjoys and tells me what they thought of it etheir on here, A03 OR FanFiction.Net. Happy reading 🤗🤗😁😁

Archive Of Our Own

FanFiction.Net

Kurt slowly opened his eyes before sitting up in his bed. He looked over to his side to see Sebastian, sprawled messily on his side with his arm now taking up space on Kurt's side. He playfully rolled his eyes at the sight and shook his head before bending over and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He got a grunted response from his husband before he stood up and made his way to the bathroom.

He had a lot to do that day. At 7 he had a meeting with his team of designers to go over the pieces they needed for the benefit he was planning and that was planned to take 5 hours, then at 1 he had another meeting with the group of people that were sponsoring his benefit and that was planned to take 2 hours, then at 5 he had a meeting with the construction company to go over the design for the new space in his office and that was planned to take 1 hour and finally at 8 he had a meeting with the interns to go over his inventory stock so they could order new supplies and who knew how long that was going to take.

Working from home was hard but it had its perks. Like the fact that he got to spend the whole day with his husband while they worked side by side, The only downside was that Sebastian never wanted to work. He was like a little kid that would refuse to go to school. Did he eventually go through the plies of contracts he had on his desk? Yes. Did he eventually get up so he could go to that meeting with his client? Yes. But did he go down without a fight? No.

But nevertheless, when there was work to be done, Kurt got it done. He loved being a designer and he loved being his own boss. He usually got to pick his hours and it was something he loved doing and was good at. People loved his designs. He had designed hundreds of pieces for all kinds of celebrities. Designs for Broadway productions, benefits, red carpets, you name it and he’ll have done it. Kurt Hummel Smythe was becoming a household name.

He was also proud of Sebastian, who was on his way to becoming the best lawyer in all of New York. His team had a winning streak of cases won and he had lines of clients waiting for him to take their case. They made a great team together and were hard workers. Some of them got lazy though.

Kurt got ready, taking a shower, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, fixing his hair, doing his skincare routine and then taking a final look at himself before being satisfied. After he was ready he went back into his bedroom to find that Sebastian was still asleep and was now taking up both sides of the bed.

“Sebastian,” Kurt said, going over to him and gently shaking him. “Get up,”

“What?” Sebastian mumbled, lifting his head up slightly just to flop it back down on his pillow.

“I said get up,” Kurt repeated. “It’s 6:30, don’t you have a meeting?”

“No,” Sebastian said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Client cancelled. Family emergency or something like that. It got rescheduled to next week,”

“Lucky you,” Kurt said. “Well still, you can’t lay around in bed all day,”

“Yeah I can. I don’t have any other work to do today and I’m tired. You could use a break too,”

“Not with everything I have to do today,” Kurt laughed.

“Just cancel it babe. Come on, wouldn’t it be nice just to have a day to ourselves? I feel like I never see you anymore,”

“How needy are you? We’re literally stuck together in the same house,”

“Yeah but we’re always working. I want to have fun. Come back to bed with me. Please?” Sebastian asked, pulling Kurt back into the bed and wrapping his arms around him so he couldn’t get back up.

“Seb,” Kurt said, laughing when he started kissing his neck. “Stop it, I don’t have time for this,”

“But I love you,” Sebastian pouted.

“And I love you too but I have stuff to do,” Kurt said, finally wiggling free from his grasp and straightening himself out,”

“Fine then,” Sebastian huffed, crossing his arms in front of him. “Go on then, since you’re obviously too busy for me, go do whatever it is you have to do,”

“You’re funny,” Kurt told him. “Come on, don’t be mad. You look like a child and frowning causes wrinkles,”

“I’m not funny, I’m serious,” He whined.

“Whatever, just try and take a bath at least,”

“Fine,”

“I love you,”

“Do you though? It’s obvious that you don’t have enough time for me,”

“You see, I know that you’re joking and that you aren’t actually telling me to take the day off when I have several meetings to go to today, right?”

“Wrong, that’s exactly what I’m telling you to do,”

“Well it’s not happening”

“Well then I don’t care,” Sebastian said before laying back down and pulling the blankets over his head.

Kurt just shook his head once again before leaving the room to go to his office and get ready for his meeting. He knew that Sebastian would eventually get over it, he always did, but Kurt just found it funny that he was acting so immature. But he couldn’t take the day off, no matter how much he wanted to, with all the stuff he had planned. Sebastian would just have to come to understand that.

After he was done with all the work he had had that day, Kurt was exhausted. All he wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed…  but there was still one thing that he had to do.  When he walked into the living room there was Sebastian sitting on the couch, watching TV and ignoring him when he sat down on the couch beside him.

“Seb?” Kurt asked him, getting his attention.

“Finally remembered me, have you?” Sebastian asked in return, raising his eyebrows at him.

“I never forgot about you honey,”

“Yeah well, you were obviously too busy for me earlier and you left me the whole day without you, I was bored out of my mind. I’ll never forgive you,”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,”

“Well then,” Kurt sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll just have to take a shower all by my lonesome,”

“What?” Sebastian asked, perking up.

“Oh yeah well I was thinking that we could have some fun together while I get ready for bed,” Kurt thought out loud. “But I guess since you’re so mad at me…”

“What, no I’m not mad,” Sebastian corrected him. “I’m not mad at all,”

“Well come on,” Kurt said, taking Sebastian’s hand and standing up. “Let’s have some fun,”

#kurtbastian #kurtbastian fanfiction #gleetotchallenge2021