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#i got five new bug bites
beefstatic · 2 years
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It should be illegal to do yard work in this fuckin heat
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novacorpsrecruit · 2 months
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I’m With You
@steddielovemonth prompt: love is protection
wc: 1,061 | Rating T | cw: brief homophobia, fighting, wild Tommy Hagan appearance
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Steve didn’t know he was in love until it happened.
After the events of Vecna, Eddie’s near death experience and Steve’s matching infected bat bites, the two grew closer. They shared a hospital room, pumped full of morphine and antibiotics as they healed.
Eddie’s name was cleared, thanks to the shady government, but Eddie wasn’t sure if that was enough. Most of Hawkins had already looked at him funny. He wasn’t sure if the cover story of almost dying by the hands of Victor Creel like Chrissy, Freddie, Patrick and Jason would be enough to save his name. Steve’s told him plenty of times to not to worry about other people. If anyone bothers Eddie, Steve will protect him.
They made plans, lying in the hospital beds covered in bandages to move out of Hawkins before the end of the year.
And maybe morphine promises are all what they’re worth.
Two months have gone by, summer coming in full force. The two were near inseparable. Spending late nights in Eddie’s new trailer or in the Harrington home. Sharing a bed, maybe a little too close for just friends. Waking up to share breakfast or maybe lunch. Dinners with Wayne. Nights at the drive in. Steve wouldn’t trade this friendship for the world.
Steve was back working at Family Video, picking up extra shifts to get a little extra money stuffed away for their escape. They talked about moving out of Hawkins sooner. Eddie’s had a hard time finding work after graduating. Not many people wanted to be associated with him. He was lucky that he didn’t cause Wayne to be fired.
So often, he spends his time with Steve at work. Steve didn’t mind at all. It made the day go faster. He brightened up every time Eddie walks in, ready to bug Steve and Robin. Plus, if anyone gave Eddie any shit, Steve would be right there to help him.
Robin told him he’s hopeless. Steve didn’t quite understand that.
Not until now.
They were around the corner, taking their smoke break. They passed a single cigarette, something they do now, while they shoot the shit. Talking about nothing felt like talking about everything. Sometimes about the latest campaign Eddie’s planned. Or if they should look into a place at Indy or a place in Chicago. Or what they were going to do when Steve closed up for the night.”
“Gareth’s brother’s got a place in Chicago,” Eddie said, exhaling smoke. “He said we could stay with him for a few weeks while we look for a place.
“We could get jobs there,” Steve offered. “Earn a little more to get a place.”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “You want to do it?”
“Yeah,” Steve said, taking the cigarette from Eddie’s hands and putting it to his lips. “Let’s do it.”
Eddie’s smile, big and wide with excitement, faded quickly as his eyes darted to the side. They weren’t alone.
“Harrington,” a familiar voice sneered. Steve turned to glare at Tommy, back from college. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“At my place of employment?” Steve deadpanned.
“With him,” Tommy corrected. “I figured you’d still be chasing after Wheeler.”
Something in Tommy’s tone boiled Steve’s blood. “I’m on break, Tommy,” Steve said, inhaling on the cigarette, letting the smoke fall from his lips. “Go inside if you want something.”
“I want to know why you’re with him,” Tommy said, venom on his tongue. He took a step forward, into Steve’s space. “You’ve heard the rumors.”
“Steve,” Eddie said. “Let’s go inside.”
“Eddie was a victim of Creel,” Steve said, not stepping down from Tommy. “He didn’t do shit.”
“Not those rumors,” Tommy said. “The ones from school. Five dollar handy, ten for a blowjob, twenty for a — you get the picture.”
“Shut the hell up, Hagan,” Steve warned.
“How much you paying him?” Tommy asked, gesturing to Eddie. Then, something clicked in Tommy’s head as a smirk grew across his face. “I heard your dad cut you off. You making money from him?” Tommy shoved Steve’s shoulders, pushing him back against the wall. Hard. Steve felt his head hit the back of the brick building. Steve let out a gasp in pain. “You sucking his —“
Eddie had lunged forward, swinging his fist across Tommy’s face. His rings dug into his cheek, breaking skin. Tommy stumbled back. Eddie swung again. Tommy fell to the ground.
“Touch him again, Hagan,” Eddie spat. “I dare you.”
Tommy tried to stand up, Eddie shoved him back down. He wasn’t done.
“You lost him, Hagan,” Eddie snapped. “He’s never gonna like you like that. Go fuck yourself.”
Then, there were gentle hands on Steve.
“C’mon,” Eddie said softly, picking Steve up off the ground … When did he fall? The world felt like it was spinning and his only grounding touch was Eddie’s hand on his arm, guiding him in through the back door. A gentle hand came to the back of his head, with a slight hiss. “Shit.”
Steve was sat down at the breakroom, while Eddie grabbed paper towels from the bathroom. He pressed it against the back of Steve’s head, a slight sting was all Steve needed to know that Tommy broke skin.
“You with me, Stevie?” Eddie asked gently, kneeling down next to Eddie. His big brown eyes looking up at him with a look that made Steve feel whole.
“I’m with you,” Steve nodded, feeling Eddie keep pressure on the back of his head. “You’re with me.”
“I’m with you,” Eddie repeated gently. He brought his free hand to gently squeeze Steve’s thigh. “I’m with you for as long as you’ll let me.”
Then it hit him.
Steve loved Eddie.
He wanted to do everything he could do to protect Eddie. Fight off those who still believed in the rumors surrounding spring break, those who bullied him for being different, for being himself. Hell, Steve would fight a demogorgon for Eddie. He carried him through hell and back.
Eddie stood up for him. Eddie protected him from Tommy. Eddie fought back and won.
Maybe Eddie loved him, too.
Steve let himself fall into a carefree smile. He leaned his head, ever so gently until his and Eddie’s foreheads met. “For the record,” Steve said softly. “I’m never letting go.”
Eddie broke out into a grin. “That’s what I hoped for.”
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tinymoon-beam · 6 months
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I saw this request on my main blog this morning and the words just happened.
Hope it's ok 🩷🩷
Cw: fighting, Rain and Swiss arguing, angry Mountain, brief little phantom and caregiver Aurora, upset Rain, apologies, brief little Rain and caregiver Cumulus
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Mountain snaps his book closed with a growl as the raised voices spill down the hall toward his room. They've been at it for at least five minutes now and he's getting sick of hearing it.
A particularly loud shot has him standing and yanking his door open, storming down the hall with a scowl, ready to rip them both a new one for this behaviour. He doesn't care what the argument is even about, there is never a need to screech at eachother like animals fighting in the wild.
He finds them at the edge of the den, face to face, spit flying as they continue bickering. Rains claws are extended and Swiss' eyes are burning with the lightning that dances through his veins. An uncontrollable ocean against an uncontrollable lightning storm. Two deadly forces ready to go blow for blow until someone's left lifeless on the floor.
Mountain steps forward to reach out to pull them apart when golden hair catches the corner of his eye. He glances down and finds Dew on the couch, pupils blown and almost completely covering the honeyd whiskey color of his eyes. His little chest rises and falls rapidly and his fingers are clenched tight in his shirt.
Mountain sees red.
He digs his hands into each of their shoulders, gripping tight and ripping them apart with a growl that leaves no room for argument. He towers over both of them, eyes hard and teeth clenched.
"That's enough!" He doesn't raise his voice but his tone is enough to have them aware that he's not playing with them. "Take this ridiculous fighting elsewhere, no one wants to hear it."
"He started-"
"Shut it Swiss. Both of you should be ashamed of yourselves." He points behind him toward the couch where Dew is curled in tight on himself. "Did you even consider him? Did you stop to think that Cirrus could walk out here and the yelling would set her off? Of course not, you're both selfish, ridiculous creatures."
Rain's eyes stay locked on Dew and Mountain sees the hurt flash across his face. He doesn't have time to soothe his concern, it was his own fault and Mountain hopes that them sitting in their discomfort will keep this from happening again for a while.
He lets go of their shoulders. "Go cool off while I take care of the damage you've both caused."
Mountain turns his back to them and takes a deep breath before he allows himself to get into Dewdrop's space. He slots one arm under his knees and the other under his head and lifts him to his chest with ease. He's shaking like a little leaf and Mountain bites the inside of his cheek to keep from continuing to reprimand the other two.
"I've got you, honey bee." He hates feeling him breathe so fast, he can hear the panicked rattle in his lungs, the occasional little hitch that still happens when he's too worked up for his lungs to keep up with it.
Rain has tears in his eyes and Swiss has hung his head when Mountain turns back around with Dew in his arms.
"Get it together." He glares at the both of them before leaving the den. He heads straight for his room, only pausing when Phantom pokes his head out of Aurora's room.
"They d-done yet?"
The stutter and slight crack in his voice give him away. "Yeah bug, they're done."
Aurora moves beside him and wraps her arms around him. "Come back in here, sweetheart."
Mountain nods at her and he watches her look over Dewdrop with soft sad eyes.
"They're lucky I can't leave Phantom right now."
Mountain huffs a laugh. "If they decide to continue acting like that I'll look after these two so you can handle Swiss and Rain."
She smiles brightly. "Deal."
He says goodbye and continues on his way. The sun is setting and it makes his room look warm in the glow. Dew always said he liked Mountain's room, the dark earthy colors, the plants he has everywhere, it always put his mind at ease.
He lays him down on his dark green comforter, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. He sighs when it comes back damp from tears and Mountain hates to think about how long he'd been crying silently as the two other ghouls screamed at each other.
Mountain heads to the drawer with Dewdrop's pajamas. He settles for a short sleeved onesie, he keeps his room humid for the plants and Dew gets too hot easily. He wants him comfortable when he comes back into himself.
"Alright, kleine Sonne, let's get you settled, hm?"
He doesn't rush undressing him, he keeps it slow and his hands soft, pausing when Dew makes any kind of noise. He squeezes his hand and assures him that he's right there, that he's not going anywhere.
He slips the onesie on and snaps it up. He gets him back in his arms with one of the blankets Lus had knitted him last year, the burnt orange color always offering his mind peace. He wraps it around Dew and sits in the rocking chair beside the window.
The setting sun casts a pretty glow across Dew's face and he turns his eyes toward it, relaxing in the light and Mountains warm arms.
"That's better." Mountain smiles and runs his fingers through his hair, humming 'you are my sunshine' while Dew looks up at him.
He gets him content, eyes warm and focused while he rocks him gently on the chair. Dew makes little rumbly noises as he comes back, not quite a purr, but a little buzzing sound in his chest.
It's Mountain's favorite sound, a little promise that he's ok, that he hadn't slipped too far for Mountain to reach. It gives him comfort, makes the vice grip around his heart loosen and he smiles.
"There's my honey bee." He doesn't know how much time passes, he doesn't worry about it as long as Dew is relaxed and no longer locked up tight in his mind. The room has gotten darker though and he flicks on the lamp beside the chair, the dim glow illuminating Dew's freckles.
Dew flinches when someone knocks and Mountain shushes him, covering his ear when he calls for them to come in.
Cumulus walks with Rain gripping her hand with tears on his cheeks. His face is red and splotchy and he's still giving hiccuping little breaths, clearly deeply upset.
"Go ahead, otter." She nudges him forward gently.
Rain glances between Lus and Mountain, lip pulled between his teeth.
"M'sorry Mount...I didn't mean to be mean..."
Mountain beckons him over so he can take his hand to offer comfort. "I'm sure you didn't, minnow. I think maybe it's Dewdrop you owe the apology to."
Rain sniffles and another wave of fat tears spill down his cheeks as he looks at his best friend tucked up against Mountains chest.
"M'sorry Dew. I scared you and-and I was mean and-" He covers his face and Cumulus pulls him into a hug. He sniffles and sobs against her neck. "Dew's gonna be scared of me forever and he won't be my friend anymore!"
"That's not true, minnow. Dew loves you. Come here."
Lus let's him go and he shuffles back over to Mountain's side, crying steadily.
Dews eyes lock on Rain and his fingers twitch. Mountain pulls his arm from the blanket and when he holds his hand close enough to Rain, Dew grabs hold of him.
"See?" Mountain smiles when Dew tugs on Rain's fingers. "You are his most favorite person, minnow, that's never going to change."
Rain leans down to lay his head on Dew's chest, hugging him as best as he can given Dew still being wrapped up on Mountain's lap.
"Ok, come on otter. It's time for a bath and bed." She kisses Dew's forehead and Mountain's cheek before taking Rain's shoulders and ushering him from the room.
"Love you minnow, sleep well."
He mumbles an 'i love you' back, still upset and losing the fight against exhaustion.
He continues to rock Dew until his eyes start to get heavy and he starts going boneless against Mountain's chest.
His phone buzzes and he eases it from his pocket, careful not to jostle Dewdrop too much.
Swiss: sorry for earlier. I'm an ass.
Mount: you need to apologize to Dew tomorrow.
Mount: are you ok?
Swiss: yeah. Just feel bad
Mount: don't dwell on it. Love you Spark
Swiss: love you too. Night
Mountain sighs and shakes his head, suddenly very tired from the onslaught of everyone else's emotions.
He places Dew gently on the bed and quickly changes into his sleep clothes before climbing up beside the sleeping little ghoul. He pulls him close and cards his fingers through his hair, once again humming until he joins Dewdrop in sleep.
This is the onesie I was picturing for Dew
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withacapitalp · 1 year
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Because the girlies really loved my last post about Argyle (and I can't remember if I put this here or not) have some more unconditional jargyle love
“I got a job today,” 
All conversation halted as over a dozens pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. Argyle gave them all a half smile and shoving some more vegetables in his mouth. 
“A job?” Jonathan managed to sputter out, looking at Argyle like he was from another planet. He did that a lot, always had, so it didn't really bug him.
Argyle was fine with being weird.  
“Hawkins Pizza! Gino wants me to start on Thursday, earlier if I can. They reallllllly need the help,” Argyle said with a disappointed shake of his head, taking another bite of broccoli and telling them the whole story. 
He had gone in on an impulse while he was waiting to pick up Robin and Steve from work. He had just wanted a slice, maybe to pick some up for dinner tonight so Joyce didn’t have to cook, but he had walked into a waking nightmare. Half baked mushy dough, tomato sauce that tasted like it came right out of a jar, and a cheese blend that had zero stringiness. 
They didn’t even have pineapple. It was a complete travesty.
The owner hadn’t appreciated his observations at first, even threatened to kick him out, but he had managed to swing the man around by offering to make him a real pizza. 
Twenty five minutes later Argyle had a job offer and a super nice new boss. Turns out the dude was way chill, just overwhelmed by being one of three restaurants left standing after the earthquake. But good pizza made everyone feel better. It was one of the reasons Argyle had loved being at Surfer Boy so much. 
“Y’all won’t be able to handle the sick ass pies I’m about to be slinging,” He said with a lazy shaka and a chuckle. 
Everyone was still looking at him, but not with as much confusion. They all congratulated him,  lowly going back to the conversations they had been having before. 
Well everyone except Jonathan, but that guy was always zonked out. 
“You’re staying?” Jonathan finally asked. 
“As long as its still cool for me to crash on your couch, my guy,” Argyle answered. Shoot. He probably should have asked that first before taking the job, but he had just been excited to get to start making pizzas again. Being in Hawkins wasn’t anything like Cali, and he had jumped at the chance for something just a little bit familiar. 
“Of course it is. Stay as long as you want,” Jonathan answered automatically, not missing a beat, “I just- I-“
Jonathan cut himself off with an irritated sigh, turning to stare down at his plate. Argyle let him have the moment, bopping his head along to the music playing in his head and happily spacing out. 
Jonny needed things like this, moments where he could debate whatever was going on inside. His best friend was ‘cerebral’ as his abuela would put it- he needed time in his head to find the right thing to say. 
Or he needed time to find the courage to say he wanted to say without fear. Either way, Argyle didn’t mind waiting. 
“I guess I just didn’t expect you to want to stay,” Jonathan mumbled out, still keeping his eyes on his plate and not his best friend, “I mean given how insane everything is,” 
It was insane. It was all insane.
Two weeks ago they had been hitting golfballs into old cars and talking about how Jonathan needed to get his shit together, and now they were sitting in the living room of an abandoned cabin halfway across the country, surrounded by people who had only taken ten days to feel like family to him. 
It was insane that Jonathan’s little sister could move stuff with her mind, and there was apparently an alternate dimension full of hell beasts that were determined to break into their world and destroy everything. It was insane that he had known nothing about the guy he swore was his best friend, and it was insane that Argyle still managed to find a way to love him through all of it. 
But sometimes insane was a good thing.
“Where else would I wanna be?” Argyle said instead with an easy grin, slinging an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and leaning into his best friend’s space. 
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chapel-of-rizztual · 7 months
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If you are getting zonked and zooted, please will you share some of your very softest, fluffiest Phantom headcanons please? So we can all get cosy and love the new bug together.
Seeing as you asked so nicely you can have some soft fluffy phantom Headcanons.
He sleeps in a bed full of stuffies and squishmallows. Some are ones he’s got himself but the majority are ones he’s stolen from the other ghouls (mostly Rain and Cumulus.) He can’t sleep unless he has an arm full of them. When they go on tour he tries to bring them all with him but he’s told he’s only allowed five. He pouts for a week about and can’t figure out which ones he wants to take, whenever he thinks he’s made a decision he feels bad about the ones that will get left behind. In the end Mountain picks for him. He also sleep with a blanket, he has since he was a kit and was the only thing he managed to bring with him from the pit. If he ever lost that he’d lose his shit and never sleep again. (I’m not projecting here I promise.) He sleeps with it tucked under his chin so he can smell the comforting smell. Once Swiss accidentally washed it and Phantom lost his shit and didn’t sleep for a week because it didn’t smell right anymore.
Whenever he gets scared/anxious he shoves his head under whoever’s shirt is closest to hide. It makes him feel really small and safe. Swiss is one of his favourites because he likes to smush his face into his belly and because of how warm he is. Cumulus is another favourite because he likes resting his head on her boobs.
Loves loves loves being called puppy. It makes his tail wag like crazy whenever someone calls him puppy no matter the context.
He purrs super loud. The loudest of all the ghouls. Especially when someone scratches behind his ears and around his horns. He loves having his hair played with as well, it makes him purr so loud.
chronic biscuit maker. He will make biscuits on anything and everyone. Copia’s belly is one of his favourites, it’s so soft and squishy under his hand and so warm he can’t help but kneading at him whenever they’re together.
After a show he’ll go find someone to help him take his helmet and vest off because he can’t figure out how to undo them by himself. He doesn’t know how to tie shoelaces so he goes to Cirrus to help him.
He sucks the spade of his tail. And this thumb. He’s often seen around the ministry with his tail in his mouth. It’s half a comfort thing half a stim. His tail is always in his mouth.
he’ll lay on his back and show his tummy when he wants attention and affection and he gives little love bites and ’mrrps’ whenever he gets woken up. He loafs on the back of the sofa and naps, it’s his favourite place to nap.
He follows Copia around all the time. At first he thought it was because the ghoul was new and learning about humans, but he just likes spending time with Copia. He calls him daddy.
Loves full body pressure. He Loves lying fully on top of someone or having someone lie fully on top of him. It makes him feel so safe and protected.
When he was first summoned he really struggled. He felt scared and overwhelmed by everything. Swiss made him a blanket fort to help him. He loved it so much and now him and Swiss have blanket fort dates all the time. Sometimes when he gets really bad anxiety and he can’t figure out how make them fort without Swiss he goes and hides under Swiss’ blankets on his bed. It smells so strongly of Swiss and it always calms him down.
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scryarchives · 7 months
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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐
khaji-da mentioned something about the new girl 'drea' being dangerous, but what did she mean by 'dangerous'? and how dangerous could she be if she's best friends with his very own sister?
masterlist | previous , next !
– pairings: jaime reyes x oc
– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers
– author's note: more of a filler chapter haha. disclaimer: i don't speak Spanish, so please do correct me if i am wrong! read more under the cut! :)
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A couple of weeks had passed since the Tlatilpas had come over to the Reyes household. Unfortunately, Anika (or as she asked Jaime to call her “Aunt Anika”) was the only one over as her wife Zara had been too exhausted from the drive to Palmera City.
As nice as their family was from what he gathered, Jaime couldn’t help but let what Khaji-Da told him that day weigh his mind down. He sat on his bed, laptop open on the plush bed sheet as he gnawed the end of his pencil, brows furrowed in thought and confusion.
What did she mean by ‘she’s dangerous’? Did Khaji mean Drea specifically? Or her entire family?
“This ‘Drea’ you worry about, she’s the dangerous one.”
Jaime rolled his eyes. Of course, the blue bug alien bonded to him and responded to him when everything was peaceful and quiet in his home.
“Okay, you’ve said that already, but a little specifics would be nice,” He shrugged sarcastically at the little robotic voice in his head. “I mean, dangerous how? Does she have connections to harmful people? She’s got machinery that can endanger us? What–”
“I scanned her DNA while you were shaking hands,” Khaji-Da cut Jaime off, the male glaring incredulously at the voice.
“First off, we need to set some boundaries, Khaji. You can’t keep scanning all these people without my acknowledgement. It’s creepy and overall weird. Second, how would that make her dangerous? She’s human too.”
“Incorrect.”
“What? You’re saying I’m wrong about scanning people being inappropriate–”
“She’s not one hundred per cent human,” Khaji-Da answered once more, this time, her answer left Jaime on edge. 
“She’s approximately fifty per cent alien.”
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“Milagro! What’s up? How’s my favourite Reyes doin’?” Drea chuckled, her dark waves bouncing behind her in her high ponytail. The bracelets on her wrists ‘clinked’ together as she and the youngest Reyes high-fived, grins wide on their faces.
“¡Soy bien! You?”
The two shared a handshake, and despite their fast friendship, they got along well, like two peas in a pod.
“Meh, could be better,” She chuckled, rubbing her upper arm. “My Amma had a whole list of chores for me to do, so my arms are completely wiped out.”
“Ah man, I get you,” Milagro scoffed, nudging shoulders with her best friend. “Hey, you wanna come in? I’m sure we got something we could watch together.”
“Yeah, of course! Oh, by the way,” Milagro perked up, seeing Drea halt. “I almost forgot, Amma made some snacks a few days ago, so she asked me to bring some to you.”
It was then that Milagro realised that Drea was carrying a backpack and the Latina walked over to help hold the item up as Drea pulled out a little transparent container with a red twist-on lid.
“It’s more of a traditional snack from her home town? Country? One of those,” The older woman shrugged. “It’s called murukku, not sure if you’ve heard of it, but it’s one of my favourites. Vadai’s a close second.”
Milagro hummed at the spiral-looking snack, smiling kindly at her friend.
“Aw, look at you all soft for me! I’m gonna hide this in my room forever so that no one else in my family will ever take a bite,” She grinned before it fell. “Actually, better not. My mom is gonna kill me if she finds food in my room.”
“Oh, I know how that feels,” Drea chuckles, the two walking into the Reyes’ humble abode.
“Mom! Drea’s here!” Milagro called out, the woman smiling sweetly the moment Bianca entered her view.
“Hi, Mrs Reyes! Thanks for having me over,” She pulls her bag over one shoulder in slight nervousness, Bianca smiling widely at the girl.
“Oh, it’s no problem, Drea! It’s always wonderful to have a friend of Mili’s over!”
“Her mom made us snacks. No one touches it before I do, please,” Milagro huffed, placing the transparent container on the table as her mom eyed the snack curiously.
“Alright, mija, but there’s no controlling the rest of the family,” Bianca laughed, Milagro rolling her eyes with both love and annoyance as she led her friend towards her little room.
“Did you know I found a stray the other day? Surprisingly, both my moms let me keep him,” Drea whispered to Milagro, hoping to distract her.
“Oh seriously? What’d you name him?” Milagro looked over at Drea in slight surprise. 
“Sparky von Cocoa the First, but Sparky’s just for short.”
“I need pictures of him. ASAP.”
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“Hey Mils, you hungry?” Drea glanced over at Milagro, seeing her friend lying beside her, stomach flat on the bed as her eyes were still glued to the computer, invested in the series the Latina was introduced to named “Never Have I Ever”.
“Uh… I could get a drink, do you want one?” Milagro raised her eyebrows, glancing up at Drea, who shook her head.
“Nah it’s fine, I can get it. You’re too invested to miss anything,” Drea teased, pushing herself up from her cross-legged position. “And I’ve already watched all the episodes up to date, so I’m good.”
“Wow, you do not have a life.”
“I know I don’t,” Drea chuckled, opening her best friend’s room door, and walking out into the corridor.
As soon as she turned around, she noticed that she was face to face with the other Reyes descendent, Jaime’s eyes widened in surprise to see the neighbour’s daughter standing in his home.
“Jaime, hi,” She flashed him a quick smile, and Jaime cleared his throat.
“Hey, uhm, Drea!” He held an awkward smile of his own, eyes guarded. “What’re you doing here? Is Milagro alright?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. Was gonna get us drinks.”
“Cool.”
Then silence hung over their heads, neither adult looking at the other before Drea crossed her arms, lifting her left arm to point her thumb in the direction of the kitchen.
“So uh, does Milagro have a specific drink she likes here? Or should I drop by the convenience store to get it?” She asked with genuine curiosity that Jaime almost believed that she was completely human.
Unlike what Khaji warned him about.
“We got uh… something in the fridge that she’ll like.” 
Jaime once again smiled, albeit he smiled flatly, heading out of the corridor, and into the dining area. Trailing him to get the drinks, Drea filled herself a cup of water, eyeing Jaime curiously as the male rushed around the area, as though he was looking for someone.
“How’s life?”
Jaime snapped up, humming before zoning back to her presence. He looked a little lost before he finally registered her question all while fidgeting slightly.
“It’s… life. Nothing much really. Job hunting, trying to keep things afloat,” He answered before heading towards the front door.
“Oh seriously? You’re looking for work too? That’s great,” Drea chimed, brushing off Jaime’s behaviour as nervousness. “Do you think it’d be fine if Milagro and I join you for the search?”
“I mean,” Jaime’s eyes darted to the door as he turned around to answer. “Mili and I were already working that out together but uh, yeah, you’re welcome to join.”
“Great, that’s… yeah, thanks,” Drea smiled gratefully back while Jaime nodded hurriedly.
A silence fell between them once more, Jaime tapping his wrist in urgency, yet he stayed in case there was more conversation she tried to start. Just to confirm, he spoke up, Drea keeping her glass away in the sink as she picked up another full glass of water for her friend in the room.
“Is there anything else you need to ask or…?”
“Ah, nope, I’m done,” Drea shook her head, her eyes widening in realisation of his situation. “Oh, shit, sorry for the hold up.”
Before she could say anything else, Jaime told her his response while walking out, the door slamming shut as she heard his voice ring out for the last time.
“You’re good, no worries!”
As soon as the front door was shut and he had walked out of view of anyone, Jaime sighed as his suit, unfortunately, burning his current clothes off, annoyance filling him. 
He had to speak to Khaji about that, there was no way he could keep buying new clothes for each week.
“I thought you would never leave.”
Speak of the Devil.
“Look, she was nice,” Jaime muttered, the helmet forming over his head. “And she’s Milagro’s friend, I can’t be not nice for no reason.”
“She is an alien. There is a reason to not be nice to her,” Khaji-Da responded with a know-it-all tone, Jaime rolling his eyes.
“That’s rich coming from you. Just tell Mama that I’ll be late for dinner.”
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taglist: @mooncleaver
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ironmandeficiency · 2 years
Text
random poly bad batch hc’s
pairing: poly bad batch / reader
word count: 1038
summary: just a cluster of random hc’s that kinda link together. i’m just soft for these boys
a/n: another piece retrieved from c&m but with extra content bc i used to not be very comfortable writing for echo, but i feel like i’ve kinda become ready to delve into him deeper
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tech:
tech??? a flirt??? more likely than you’d think
it blindsides the boys bc like everyone else that meets the genius, they think he’ll be a shy, bumbling fool when trying to impress someone
but he ends up being a smooth motherfucker who uses some random study that says “eight hugs a day is recommended to keep the mind and body healthy” to get you to cuddle in bed longer or to stop doing something that isn’t holding your boys
”how many hugs have you today?” “um…” “unacceptable. to be safe, we’re starting the count over” you were close to eight but since you couldn’t recount them when he asked, he takes it as zero (even if he knows he was at least two of the day’s recommended hugs)
they’ll never admit it but the others are extremely grateful bc his tactic works every time
echo:
echo gets cold much easier than anyone else in the group for obvious reasons, but hates to make it known
you were quick to catch on to his shivering in the few nights he would let you sleep next to him during brief breaks & decided to do something to help: get him a heated blanket
during a brief refuel stop on coruscant, you made your way into the shopping district and bought him a 501st blue heated blanket that had considerable weight to it. not enough to smother him, but just enough to feel like he’s wrapped in a hug
the heating and ventilation system in the marauder went kaput in hyperspace which turned the ship into a flying icebox. echo was already an icicle on the best days, but this level of cold would be almost unbearable for him
the boys had commed you to let you know the situation & that they were a couple hours out
you cranked the blanket to the next highest setting and let it warm up before they got there, and made sure to have some food ready for all five of them
an echo-shaped blanket burrito was carried through your front door by wrecker, the others trailing behind the hulk of a soldier like lost tookas
wrecker knew to bring echo to your bed where you wrapped him in the new blanket, waiting until you knew it was warm before sliding all but two blankets out from underneath the heated one
before leaving him be, you smoothed out his brow with your thumb and kissed his forehead gently, careful to not wake him
when he finally woke up, he wrapped you in the biggest hug he possibly could with a smile that nearly overtook the rest of his face
wrecker:
wrecker would be the most obvious when missing you, more open with his emotions than the others (which doesn’t say much, i know)
he’ll be the one in the middle of a mission talking about how comfy your bed is and how much he misses your cooking
absolute cuddle bug. no one even comes close to his strong need to constantly have some sort of physical contact with you
he keeps an arm slung around you at nearly all times, whether it be around your shoulder or your waist he’s always wanting to hold you
if one of the others has themselves wrapped around you, he’ll resort to having a hand in your back pocket or even a couple fingers hooked into your belt loop
the grumpiest and poutiest wrecker is the one not around you
crosshair:
crosshair quickly becomes a food critic whose ratings seem quite biased toward the cook
he would praise every dish you made not just bc the rations were depressingly bland, but bc you make everything with love and the intention of taking care of your boys.
crosshair is the most likely to shoot a bitch for just a bite of your cooking (he’s most likely to shoot a bitch period but that’s beside the point)
so you started cooking in bulk and freezing it so they can have a taste of home when they’re half a galaxy away
since each one has different preferences when it comes to some ingredients (crosshair loathes corn while hunter enjoys extra), you always put their names or draw their symbols on the top so they don’t get mixed up
when you draw a crosshair for him you always put a heart in the center of it and it makes him smile every time, especially when he lifts the foil top and sees the secret note you always leave him
he’s nonchalantly checked the others’ containers and doesn’t find a note for them, and to him it makes him feel special that there’s something solely his in the universe, no matter how trivial it may seem
hunter:
speaking of the word “home”
hunter’s the first one to use it out of the four of them
he’s giving a pre-mission of what they need to do and casually says “the quicker we get this done, the quicker we get home”
crosshair calls him on it and hunter tries to say he didn’t say that but tech recorded it and he very clearly said-
there wasn’t anything wrong with hunter saying it, it just came as a shock bc the only “homes” they knew were kamino (terrible first experience) and the havoc marauder (not terrible but i hey were just alone together 24/7, they get on each other’s nerves sometimes)
but then they met you, and you turned their world topsy-turvy. suddenly they have someone that sees them as people & is so absolutely genuine that it makes them ache when they suddenly remember “hey, there’s this person i would do anything for and apparently they’d do the same for me, holy shit”
the first time they saw photos of themselves hanging in your apartment, it caught them off guard. it wasn’t a grand gesture that required a lot of fanfare, it wars a simple thing you did to have pieces of them be with you when they’re worlds away
plus, there’s no way you can be sad when looking at a picture of wrecker using a disgruntled crosshair as weights
these boys love you to the ends of the galaxy and then even farther & will make sure you don’t forget
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gothicwidowsworld · 1 year
Text
Don’t fuck it you muppet L.N
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“I’m scared…” the man admitted, ashamed, his declaration lacked his usual cocky confidence but it was pure honesty. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck up.” The man spoke again, still uncertain but gaining courage. 
“Your Uncle Carlos told me to not fuck it up…. “Don’t fuck it you muppet.”” Lando laughed quietly at his awful attempt at the Spaniards accent, “Although I probably shouldn’t use that sort of language around you. Your Mummy would have my head.” Lando added teasingly, his denby azure eyes settling on the woman in question. Even after all these years just looking at Y/N made his heart flutter. She was wearing an extremely old Carlin team t-shirt, she looked so natural and at ease. A Goddess among mortals honestly. Even now he didn’t understand how he got so lucky with her, they’d met in the Karting World years before, back when Y/N towered over Lando and regularly showed the Tanned Brit what losing felt like. She’d been loud and mouthy in a lovable sort of way, even giving Oliver a run for his money at times. 
The soft chatter stopped abruptly as the y/h/c young woman shuffled & shifted, the mid January sunbeams that had managed to break its way through the cracks in the curtains trying to desperately ease the woman out of her much needed slumber. “Norris close the curtains.” the y/h/c woman mumbled gently, snuggling deeper into the pillow, swatting at the man’s usual position beside her, blindly hoping the driver heard her and took pity on her utterly shattered body. The rough start to motherhood was still taking its toll on Y/N, despite the long nights the young couple had spent pouring over parenting advice books, the parenting courses, the inner circle of family support the y/h/c young woman was still wiped out. 
The golden rays of sun refused to let y/n return to slumber. Perhaps a subtle message to not miss out on this small moment, fighting the urge to close her eyes Y/N turned to face the man. But instead her y/e/c orbs focused in on a sight that she’d only been able to dream of in the past couple of months, it felt like she’d waited a lifetime to witness this moment and it was just a random Tuesday morning. Lando resting against the headboard, donning mismatching socks and joggers, tanned chest on full display cradling the small life they’d managed to create. In that moment the failed five year plan, horrendous morning sickness, 17 hour labour and general pregnancy blues seemed so worth it. “Morning.” Lando whispered a reddish blush filling his cheeks at the prospect of being caught singing the anthem to his anxieties aloud. But even then the Brit couldn’t help small twitches of his upper lip as he tried to bite back a content dopey grin. Slowly Lando raised the hand that wasn’t holding newborn close, reaching out to brush the strand of y/h/c hair that had managed to escape from Y/N’s now messy ponytail out of her face. 
“Did I miss her crying?” The y/h/c woman asked concern lacing her tired voice, trying to sit up despite the lingering post-labour pain. Shaking his head Lando replied reassuringly, his voice soft and low trying not to disturb the sleeping new born, “No no I was just up early.” 
‘How are you feeling?’ Y/N could hear the apprehensive concern partnered with his words, Lando had watched all night, an undeniable sense of guilt hitting him each time Y/N winced in her sleep, the y/s/c woman still unable to find any comfort. There wasn’t much the Driver could do, but that didn’t ease the guilt that he had caused Y/N this pain. 
“Honestly I’ve been better.” Y/N admitted bashfully. In fact Y/N was sure she could have been hit by a lorry and still felt more refreshed than she did right now. But watching a domestic new dad Lando made it more bearable. The pain and postpartum bleeding was temporary but her growing little family with Lando was forever. 
A/N it’s shit, I know it’s shit but this idea has been bugging my brain for the past few days and i’m like super sick so this is written half delirious, on pain medication whilst binge listening to The 1975... so yeah
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creative-mind-write · 10 months
Text
Return to Me Pt. 2
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A group of us gather at the shallow end of the ocean. Ao’nung makes chirping and clicking sounds. A few ilu come and swim around him in response. They look like very sweet creatures, unlike ikrans. “These are ilu,” he says looking at each one of us. “If you want to live here, you must learn to ride.
Lo’ak is the first to mount the creature. Tsireya checks his position and gives a few tips before sending him off. But once underwater the ilu moved too fast and sent Lo’ak flying off. Everyone was laughing including the ilu that came back just to splash at him before swimming off again.
“Ok forest girl.” Ao’nung says guiding a ilu next to me. “Your turn.”
“I think I’ll let Tsireya show me.” I say turning my back him.
“What, you don’t trust me?” he pouts mockingly. “I didn’t know forest warriors were such cowards.”
“I’m not a coward.” I growl hopping onto the creature. “Tell me what to do, sea creature.”
“First you must make the bond gently, then hold on tight.” he instructs, holding the ilu’s queue to me so I can make the bond.
“Start out slow and then build speed. If you go too fast you’ll bite it like your brother did.”
“Got it.” I nod, determined.
He walks around me, checking my posture. He does have to adjust my posture before sending me off. I do a few laps under the water before circling back to the group.
“Woo hoo!” I yell, pumping a fist in the air. “I told you I wasn’t a coward, Sea Creature!”
“Hell yea sis!” Lo’ak cheers. “Give me five!”
“I knew that if I could tame an ikran I could tame a sweet little ilu.” I smirk.
She didn’t like that. After I finished my sentence, the ilu flipped me off her back and into the ocean. Everyone started to laugh, including me. I know war is looming over us, but it feels amazing to be a kid for once.
“I’m impressed, forest girl,” he comments with a smirk, helping up.
“Ilu’s are very sweet but a little petty.”
“I know that now.” I smile softly. Suddenly, Lo’ak gets in front of me, breaking us apart.
“Back off my sister, fish lips.” Lo’ak growls.
“Chill Lo,” I say, giving Lo’ak a noogie. “Let him praise my awesomeness.”
______________________________________________________________________
We’ve been in Awa’altu for about two weeks. Everyone is improving rapidly. Now we can keep up with the other kids and hold our breath just as long. Since we got our chores done early, Neteyam and I go for an ilu ride.
“So what did you want to show me?” Neteyam asks.
“Sassy and I have learned some new tricks.” I grin. “I thought that you’d like the honor of being the first to see them.
“I’ll patch up your boo-boos when you fail.” he laughs.
“We’ll show you.” I told him. “Ready Sassy?”
She makes a clicking sound which I take as agreement. I take a deep breath and we dive deep under the water then swim back to the top at top speed. When we break the surface we go a few feet in the air, I go no hands for a few seconds then grab back on when we dive back in. Next we swim a good distance away then turn around and head back to where Neteyam is. When we resurface this time we go a flip over Neteyam, who looks shocked and impressed.
“Close your mouth Yamyam,” I laugh, coming back to his side. “You’re going to catch bugs.”
“How did you learn that?” he questions. “We haven’t been here that long.”
“You know I like to do tricks.” I shrug. “I found out so does this little fella.”
“I bet I can do it too.” Neteyam challenges..
“It’s ok to be the lame twin bro.” I playfully frown and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can be cool for the both of us.
“You’re not-” Neteyam stops mid-sentence..
“What?” I laugh. “Thanator got your tongue?”
He doesn’t respond, just points at the beach. Lo’ak is being picked on by Ao’nung and his friends. Even though we’ve been here for a few weeks and quickly adapting, Ao’nung still gives us grief, mostly Lo’ak and Kiri. We make our way to the group on the beach. Neteyam pushes Ao’nung so they are facing one another while I check on our younger siblings. After confirming that they weren’t hurt I go to Neteyam’s side as support.
“You heard what she said.” he says, getting in Ao’nung’s face. “Leave them alone.” “Oh big brother coming to-” Ao’nung interrupted his friend.
I clench my fists at my side. Sempu wants us to stay out of trouble but I would love a good fight.
“Back off,” Neteyam growls, pushing Ao’nung back with a finger. “Now.”
Ao’nung puts his hands up and backs away. His friend hisses but is quieted again by Ao’nung. But he’s not going to get away with that so I hiss back. This causes Neteyam to nudge me.
“From now on, I need you to respect my family.” Neteyam says, looking at each of the teens. Then he turns his attention to us. “Let’s go.”
“We head out together, ignoring the insults they send our way. Well, almost. Lo’ak turns back around and starts to walk up to Ao’nung.
“Lo’ak.” Neteyam warns, his tail curling up.
”It’s cool,” he says. “I got this.”
“Good, I’ve been itching for a fight.” I whisper.
“We’re not supposed to cause any trouble, remember?” Neteyam says, giving me a side eye.
We watch as Lo’ak goes back up to the group of boys. He starts to play with his pinky then balls it into a fist. Then he punches Ao’nung in the face, sending him to the ground with a shocked look on his face.
“It’s called a punch bitch!” Lo’ak says. “Never touch my sister again.
After that Ao’nung friends ganged up on Lo’ak. One pushed him to the ground while another tail slapped him in the face. Neteyam and I go to his aid. I tackle the one that is pulling on his tail then start to hit and bite him. Lo’ak has one by the ear and they tussle around in the sand. Neteyam takes on Ao’nung and one of his friends. Kiri’s cries of us to stop fighting falls on deaf ears.
______________________________________________________________________ Sempu led us into the mauri after he found out about the fight.
“What was  the one thing I asked?” he asks. “The one thing?”
“Stay out of trouble.” we grumble.
”Stay out of trouble.” Sempu repeats.
“Look, it was our fault.” Neteyam and I say, trying to protect Lo’ak.
“Neteyam you have to stop taking the heat for these knuckleheads.” Sempu sighs. “Y/N, why can’t you be a peacemaker, like Neteyam? And Lo’ak, why does trouble always find you?”
“Sir, Ao’nung was picking on Kiri.” Lo’ak explains. “He called her a freak.”
“They also started ganging up on Lo’ak. You want Neteyam and I to protect and watch over our siblings.” I add. “That’s what I was doing. I couldn’t stand around and do nothing.”
“You could’ve done other things. Encourage him to walk away or even get an adult.” Sempu tells me, then he turns to Lo’ak. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”
“But-”
”He’s the olo’eytkan’s son. I don’t care how you do it.” Sempu interrupts. “Just go make peace. And twins you go get patched up.“ Lo’ak huffs then goes off to find Ao’nung. Before Neteyam and I can leave, Sempu stops us.
“So what did the other guys look like?” he asks
“Worse.” Neteyam says quietly.
”That’s good.” Sempu replies.
“A lot worse.” I smile.
“Get out of here.” Sempu says
______________________________________________________________________
“Hey I just wanted to apologize for the way I have acted.” Ao’nung says, coming to sit beside me on the beach.
“What made you want to apologize?” I ask confused.
“I realize that I need to be a better person if I want a chance with you,” he admits. “I really like you. I don’t want to miss my chance because I was being a jerk.” “What made you think you had a chance?” I question.
“I’m sorry, I um- I didn’t-”
“Oh hush I’m just teasing you.” I told him. “I actually had my eye on you when we first landed. But I definitely started to dislike you when you started giving my family a hard time.”
“I promise that I will be better.” he says, taking my hand in his. “Especially if that means I have a chance with you.”
“I know that will mean a lot to my siblings.” I say, smiling softly. “Speaking of my siblings. Where’s Lo’ak, I know he went to you to apologize.”
“He did. We went hunting for a little bit.” he explains.
“Do you know where he is?” I ask. “I wanted to see if he wanted to go for a fly.”
“He went to go find Reya.” he tells me. “How about we look for shells instead.”
“Alright, I don’t want to interrupt his time with Tsireya.” I say getting up. “And I did have come up with ideas for new accessories.” So we spent a few hours together just swimming together and collecting shells. Ao’nung can be a real sweetheart when he wants to be.
“Ao’nung!” Neteyam yells stomping to us. “Where is he?”
“Who?” he asks, confused.
“Lo’ak.” Neteyam says. “I can’t find him anywhere.”
“It’s only been a few hours, isn’t he still with Tsireya?” I ask, confused.
“What are you talking about?” Neteyam asks, equally confused. “She said she was busy training with her mother all day.”
“But Ao’nung said he went to go find Tsireya after they came back from hunting.” I explained. “He must be here somewhere.”
“Kiri and I searched the whole village.” Neteyam insists. “He is not here.”
“Is that true?” I ask, turning towards Ao’nung. “Please tell me Neteyam is mistaken. Lo’ak is with Tsireya, right?”
“We took him outside the reefs to hunt…” Ao’nung starts looking at the sand. “And we…um…left him there.”
“You left him!?” I scream pushing him. “How could you?”
“It was only a joke.” he responds, putting his hands up. “I thought that he would find his way.”
“You know he wouldn’t be able to do that!” I scream angry tears in my eyes. “I’m going to kill you.” “Y/N calm down. If you hurt him you will be in trouble” Neteyam says, restraining me. “We have to tell Father.”
Neteyam lets go of me and grabs Ao’nung by his queue and we make our way to Sempu. He is in the mauri talking with Kiri. When we enter they both turn to us.
“Tell him what you told us.” Neteyam growls.
Ao’nung explains that he and his friends took Lo’ak outside the reef for a hunt. He adds that it was just a joke that they normally play. Sempu goes to find Tonowari so they can send a search party. It took a few hours but Lo’ak was found with minor injuries. Shockingly, Lo’ak lied and said that it was his idea. Sempu and Sa’nu pull the three of us aside for a talk.
“I was just trying to make friends with these kids.” Lo’ak tries to reason. “Just like you said.
“You have brought shame upon this family.” Sempu responds.
“Can I go now?” Lo’ak asks, hurt clearly in his eyes.
Sempu nods and Lo’ak walks off. Then he and Sa’nu turn their attention to Neteyam and I.
“Where were you two?” he questioned. “I thought it would be better since there are two of you. But I was wrong.”
“Sorry sir,” Neteyam says, ears down in shame.
“Sempu, please understand. I know you and Sa’nu can’t be everywhere but it is too much on us.” I start. “We do the best we can but it is hard. We love our family and this scared us half to death and the pressure you’re putting on us doesn’t help.”
I take Neteyam’s arm and walk away before Sempu can respond. We work hard to protect our family. We love them dearly but we need a chance to be children, not parents.
“Thank you.” he says, pulling me into a hug. “You shouldn’t have said that though.”
“We both knew it had to be said. And I’m the only one that will say it” I respond, returning the hug. “I was scared, Neteyam.”
“I was too.” he starts. “But you know..”
“As long as we are together the family will be safe.” I finished.
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mylittlediarys-stuff · 4 months
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Bite Back!
Link to part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/mylittlediarys-stuff/736028843342807040/bite-back-part-2?source=share
Okay, let’s do this for the first time.
My name is Amara Wanye. I'm 15 and for three wonderful days, I have been the one and only spider person? I don't have an official hero name yet.
But we need to go back three weeks.
-
“Okay class, for the tour of the s.t.a.r lab you need to stay in your groups,” the teacher announced.
S.t.a.r labs was one of the many things Amara loved, she knew almost everything about s.t.a.r lab. There was one thing she really wanted to do; she was the Arachnida lab thing they had here. Occurring to her 5-hour-long research she did last night s.t.a.r. I am a whole different now deciding to study spiders, even making artificial ones.
I wonder if they made-
“Amara!” She was broken from her thoughts by yelling her name.
“We're leaving to start the tour.” A student announced.
“Oh, thank you.” She felt a bit embarrassed as her whole group stared at her, waiting for her to catch up.
Once the tour began she had to stop herself from asking too many questions. In the beginning, she asked questions about every detail and she could tell her classmates didn’t want to hear her voice all day so she toned it down.
She took many photos that she thought would run out of storage.
“Next up is our new Arachnida department,” The tour guide opened up these big brown browns to reach the department and it was beautiful in Amara's eyes. The smell of this department was different from all the others, it gave it a more relaxed and happy vibe. It also has pops of green everywhere. “This department also works with Oscorp Labs.”
“Why are the lab stations green?” A random student asked.
“I was just getting to that, you can notice that most of the testing areas are green due to the fact that it’s one of their favorite colors.”
It’s amazing even the light here has a different hue!
“You guys have five minutes to explore the lab and take photos before we group up to discuss the lab in more detail.” Amara took off the moment she heard “explore the lab”.
If I ignore my fear that the spider will bite me and I die, they look so cool.
She looked over to the tarantulas, they were kinda big but looked oddly soft. She didn’t want to get too close but close enough to take good photos. As she got out her phone to take a photo she felt a pinch on her neck. Almost like something just bit her.
“What the'' She slapped her neck. Just to find some brown dead thing on her hand, probably a bug.
Is this a bug? In a room of spiders O MY GOSH DID A SPIDER BIT ME!
“Miss, are you okay?” The tour guide asked.
“Yes, I am," Amara replied, lifting her hair to show her neck. "I think something… bit me on my neck."
“There is nothing there Miss.”
“But there was a-”
“It’s nothing you probably just a bit scarce. I know we're in a room filled with spiders. You are not the first person to get a bit jumpy here.”
She is probably right.
Notes-
If you made it this far and liked my story please give suggestion and motivation
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poppy-metal · 1 year
Note
this is the first ask i’ve ever done ♡ i’m sorry if it’s cringy LOL, i literally just haven’t been able to get this out of my head and it’s 1:00am. steve!centric.
whatever you do, don’t think about how steve’s parents definitely forced him to play a classical instrument when he was younger. they wanted to use him in his adolescence to impress the other stifling parents in the rich neighbourhood of hawkins’, so they chose the cello. something deep, alluring, leading, etc. young steve would be hauled up in the living room of that near vacant house, watching longingly as the neighbourhood kids played rambunctiously on the sidewalks while he was tethered to darkness as the curtains closed, blocking his view of salvation. a brand new cello practically the same size as him would fight against his scrawny arms, weighing down on the right side of his chest suffocatingly. his firm instructor, one of the best in the country, sat across from him as he relentlessly instilled the art of classical music into steve’s brain day and night, until the soft pads of his nimble fingers were bloody and bruised.
once steve got to high school, he fought tooth and nail with his parents to not continue cello lessons, much to his parents now still evident resentment. he was afraid that if anyone found out that he knew how to play the cello, and god forbid, was continuing in junior high? they would group him in with the ‘band geeks’, thereby ruining his future ‘king’ title before it could even get up off the ground.
flash forward to the future (eddie didn’t die, duh) and it’s the summer of ‘86 after eddie has graduated (yay). the metalhead’s name has been cleared by hopper. town splitting earthquake? who’s she? so! eddie’s been struggling to find a bass player for corroded coffin, since maybe their old bass player decided to go to college, or get the hell up out of hawkins, or they broke their hands somehow, anyyyyways. eddie’s been sticking up audition signs all around hawkins with sticky, uneven sections of tape on every pole and establishment wall that he can touch. not to mention driving recklessly in his van, only to throw a few hundred matching signs out of his windows wherever he can, never failing to disturb the surrounding neighbourhoods’ of hawkins’ as they shoot him the bird before grumbly cleaning up the signs off the road.
it isn’t until a few days later when steve, robin, and eddie are in family video on a very dead saturday evening after the 5:00pm rush. eddie came to bug the two best friends, leaning against the counter as he played with his butterfly knife, deep in thought. steve was sat atop the counter absentmindedly with a mouthful of pringles, while robin lazily merchandised tapes near the till.
robin: “so, munson, you get any bites on your band’s bass player auditions yet?”
eddie: “no one except for ollie trout. he plays the cello, which is basically the same, but.. he’s just so.. stiff.”
steve, being the himbo, but genius he is, offhandedly mentions that he played the cello from when he was five to fifteen. for ten years, because his parents wanted him to and paid ‘fortunes’ for lessons from an old new yorker who smelt like olives. since he isn’t ashamed to talk about something that he found absolutely mortifying a short time ago, anymore. plus, robin plays the trumpet, so obviously it wasn’t that big a deal, right? he doesn’t see the awe in his friends’ faces until he reaches down to grab another pringle, the can suddenly gone. he looks up to see eddie’s jaw dropped incredulously, pringle can in his ring adorned grasp as robin is frozen in place, speechless. steve nearly sputters as he swears, believing some upside down thing was happening again before eddie practically got down on his ripped denim knees and BEGGED steve to play at least one gig with them.
i’m thinking that eddie bribes steve with maybe like, free work on his bmw for life whenever it needs to be repaired, or he’ll take initiative on driving the kids, particularly dustin, wherever they need to go for the rest of the summer. steve agrees at those propositions, but he’s hesitant, because it’s been a long time since he’s played. it’s something his parents made him do, and he doesn’t fit the image, but the bass feels different to him somehow. i’m thinking it’s kinda morphing into a school of rock! au. in addition to eddie teaching steve how to garner his confidence back into playing music again, he shows him how fucking cool black sabbath, metallica, motley crüe, etc. are. how the same chords that contributed to a piece he found static can electrify a space, how the sound he emits can become his, instead of his parents. it isn’t until steve finally picks up the glossy black bass that the band collectively owns, and fucking NAILS a complicated bass solo that eddie had walked him through moments before, that the metalhead silently thanks steve’s shit parents for allowing eddie to turn their goody two shoes boy into an entity his parents would loathe. the other two corroded coffin boys are SHOCKED, because they know they did not just watch the prince of hawkins’ get possessed by the gods of music for a good five minutes before reverting back into a nice guy. needless to say, jeff and gareth are more than down to have him join for a gig.
and whatever you do!! don’t think about robin calling your parent’s landline and asking you if you want to see steve’s first gig at the hideout with corroded coffin that night, because she doesn’t want to be alone, and you shyly saying yes. because you’ve always held a certain desire deep within the pit of your chest for the mature babysitter. and the thought of steve harrington? playing metal music? at the dingiest bar in hawkins? alongside the town outcast? it made your heart flutter and your core clench with anticipation and want.
you and robin dress in your best ‘metal’ outfits. if you’re more outgoing, you can definitely spice it up. practically painted leather leggings, shredded corroded coffin makeshift tank, glossy black boots that lick the bottoms of your thighs. or!! if you’re more of a coquette/girly girl, you could wear a really cute crop top and a verrryyyy short tennis skirt with slightly scuffed up mary janes (all black, because you still want to fit in with the band). those are just some options! anyways-
you and robin are near the outskirts of the crowd, away from the pending mosh pit (they’ve garnered quite a crowd, as word had spread fast that steve ‘the hair’ harrington had joined the only metal band in their small town of indiana). the chipped stage becomes bathed in a faded low light as the band walks on, and your breath hitches in your throat because there, on the right side of the stage closest to you, is the man of the hour.
steve’s dressed in a shredded band tee that’s been altered into a makeshift tank top, revealing the wiry rug of chest hair that makes your head go a bit fuzzy, with the way the chestnut strands glint in the slightly yellow stage light. not to mention the toned muscles in his arms flexing each time he moves from shoulder to fingertips, casting shadows within the indentations. black denim jeans, skinnier than you’ve ever seen on his legs are hanging low on his hips. the same hips you rarely ever see with how his large hands are always casing them in disappointment. except now, those same hands that make a pool of warmth spread within the base of your panties, are wrapped around the glossy black bass that’s strung around his torso. his dusky gaze is surrounded by an eyeshadow shade that resembles soot, with white glitter spilling down his waterline and onto the soft skin of his under eyes. a light sheen of sweat is beginning to cascade over his sun kissed skin, causing your saliva to become gelatinous as the tip of your tongue tingles longingly. he looks angelic.
and oh god, when they start playing? the crowd is going fucking nuts at eddie, steve, gareth, and jeff making the stage their absolute bitch. they sound like professionals, absolutely tearing the house down as the crowd moshes. broken teeth, black eyes, and nose bleeds inevitable at this point. your doe eyed gaze becomes cloudy as steve looks right at you, his hair damp with sweat as it droops over his sly gaze. you watch with parted lips and a searing warmth cascading you, as his rosy mouth morphs into a devilish smirk, pearly white teeth glinting ominously in the light. you can’t help the shiver that dances down your spine as steve puts on a true show. long fingers skillfully encasing the rough strings on his bass as he lets loose, screaming into the mic along with jeff as they act as background vocals for eddie, bass toned voice broken with the feeling of finally being free, alive. hopping and kicking around on stage with his steel toed combat boots as if his lungs had just taken their first real breath of air. tinged with stale cigarette smoke, metallic liquor, torn leather and cheap perfume.
and you swear, in that moment, that you would let his entire being swallow you whole.
hehe, thanks for listening to my word vomit! ♡ can i also be this emoji ‘🐇’ pretty please! ♡ if not than this one ‘💌’ 🥺🥺 i love your writing and hope you liked this! feel free to add on too hehe. i’m a slut for corroded-coffin!steve ♡
love, R! ♡
im going to pass out??? i need to suck his cock backstage immediately.
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blacklegsanjiii · 9 hours
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@lunanight2012 fucking got me with the god damned mama Boa and her snake biting Warlord! Sanji's dads. During deaged Sanji specifically. Doffy is victim number one, he brings it on himself but like, Sanji's laughing so it's fine! No one else agrees with him as he is dangling a laughing Sanji by his feet. Doffy is like too wrapped up in Sanji that when the snake bites him he fucking flings Sanji overboard really fucking far and Jinbei is fucking diving for the kid so fast. It makes way too much sense way too fast about why Sanji is such a good swimmer. Robin springs forth hands to take Sanji so that Jinbei can come back aboard without climbing through the Sunny and Robin is absolutely adoring holding little Sanji and coos.
"Boa, you can't, we are guests." Mihawk tells her.
"But he's mine." Boa whines at him.
"No." Crocodile tells her and she glares.
They're docked and Crocodile is out with Nami and Sanji because he has the money. Also Sanji is still dressed in the clothes Boa brought so he is in skirts and flowy pants and shirts. Nami keeps trying to point things out to Sanji and he keeps looking to Crocodile for his okay and it absolutely one of those 'you need to ask your mother and father and that's Boa and Mihawk not me' type deal because he has a list for Sanji and he is not facing their wrath. He is not Doffy. Of course Nami buys a few things without them knowing and with the five finger discount and Boa is looking at Crocodile with disappointment and throws water on his arm and lets her snake bite him. Crocodile sighs as Luffy laughs and Mihawk rubs his temples. Sanji is pulling on Boa and asks her to stop having her snake bite them.
Jinbei is helping Sanji with meditation as the others are helping the Strawhats with normal every day stuff. It's good for his mental health and Jinbei welcomes the crew to try with them. Luffy finds it boring but Zoro does it. The cook never takes a moment to rest and the tiny cook is like other kids who find Zoro interesting but he's still the cook and says his hair looks like moss. It's going well until a bug lands on Sanji and bites him and sends him into a panic like the crew hasn't really seen before. Once Sanji is calmed down, Boa, who Jinbei is trying to talk down from her fuming state, has her snake bite Jinbei.
"I'm going to behead it." Mihawk threatens.
"I'll turn you to stone." Boa threatens back.
"I can't believe Zeff has never been bit." Doffy grouses.
"I absolutely can." Crocodile says.
"She seems like someone who would use him." Usopp agrees.
"She does." Doffy and Crocodile say.
Finally Mihawk. The warlords have already gotten over the 'he has emotions?' hump years ago when they first met Sanji and Mihawk was new to being a father. Years later the Strawhats learning Mihawk has a full range of emotion and is very tactile with his son because his son is not used to soft touches. That changed over the years but yeah Sanji is ten again and so fucking touch starved. Luffy is grumpy because his boyfriend is ten, doesn't remember him, and is scared of him. Mihawk is training him in observation haki and recognizing those around him.
Then Sanji hides his haki. No one can find him. Chopper is sniffing and looking for him as the crew and warlords scour for him. Boa is glaring at Mihawk who is pointedly ignoring her. When they find Sanji, sleeping of all things in a very narrow nook in the library with a book about the All Blue. He is carefully extracted and put to bed and once everyone else breathes a sigh of relief on deck Boa just bites Mihawk on the shoulder hard enough to draw blood and rip his shirt.
"Boa!" Jinbei scolds.
"He would have beheaded my snake!" Boa argues.
"You could just quit having it bite us." Crocodile points out.
"It's been years." Boa huffs while crossing her arms.
"I'm going to send you to the Marines." Mihawk hisses.
"I'll send all of Amazon Lily after you." Boa glowers.
"How do you guys deal with this?" Franky asks.
"Usually one of us would just take Sanji and leave." Jinbei answers.
"Oh." Brook answers as Mihawk and Boa devolve into a fist fight.
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twosroos · 2 years
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All Grown Up [Chapter 2]
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roos says ! yes the gif is rhett abbot, i know, shhhhh. closed proximity? yes. also, protective bob is a new favorite of mine :)
desc: bob's missed probably more than one big event, a dinner and a thunderstorm seem to tell you God-- or just fate wants you to talk it out.
notable characters: robert "bob" floyd
TWs: desc. of past abuse, narcissism, and gaslighting. cursing, mentions of fighting, threats
ao3 link ! previous chapter ! next chapter
Your plan of horse training fell out of your mind as you stood, watching both Molly Floyd and your sister as they toddled around with the horses. And it especially died when Molly called to your sister, “we should get Robby to ride Fuego when he gets here from the store!”
Shit. You were not ready for this. Not now, not ever.
“Ma, I have some laundry and such to do—“ you call across the field where she stands, watching the girls as they feed Fuego apple treats when he does little tricks you’d taught your sister to do with her. She’s now teaching Molly the same ones. You bite your lip before you speak up again, “Can I run home and do that for a bit before coming back later?”
“Are you sure you don’t wanna run Fuego before it gets hot?” Your mom asks, sending you a look. When you meet her eyes with a bugged-out look in them, she huffs, waving you over. Slumping your shoulders, you make a slow walk to where she stands by the fence because you already know what she’s gonna say. She’ll tell you to talk to Robert, then say how much he’s missed you or something along those lines.
“Talk to Robby.” Your mother murmurs, “lord knows he’s missed ya.”
‘Two for two,’ you think bitterly.
“Ma, it’s been like… nine years since he moved away. And it’s been five years since we last spoke in person. We’ve texted like… once every other month, sometimes even longer, since that thanksgiving party when his mom forced us to talk and gave him my number.” You grumble, looking away so your mother can’t see the genuine upset look in your eyes, “I don’t think there’s any more dynamic duo.”
“Yes, there is, you’re just being stubborn. I don’t know what happened between the two of you before he left, but c’mon. You both were twenty the last time you spoke in person, and it was awkward as hell to watch, now you’re both twenty-five.” she sighs, “Get your head out of your ass.”
“My head is nowhere near my ass, excuse you,” you say, but find you want to be like an ostrich in the sand when a beater Chevy pick-up pulls up to the barn with a low rumble and a crack of its missing cylinder. You want to curl in a ball when the engine shuts off, and the door opens, Molly screaming her brother's name as she slips back through the fence.
“Just look at him—“ your mother whispers, idly smacking your shoulder as she slips through the fence to help her horse— Aster, who got his leg stuck in the feed again. 
He wasn’t actually stuck, he just liked to complain until he got help.
So, against the burning in your stomach, you look to see him. And Robert Floyd has changed, drastically. He’s still wearing the same thin wired aviation-style glasses, he doesn’t really need them for anything other than reading and flying— but he’d told you that fateful thanksgiving when he looked relatively the same in his bulky hoodie and jeans, that he liked to wear them because he’d ‘never forget them that way.’ Which wasn’t true because two days later you were shipping them to a Naval postal office in Nevada. 
His hair is much shorter now, no longer at its beautiful shoulder length. You had loved to run your hands through its slight wave, you also loved to braid it or put it up in little ponytails. His scruff was growing in a bit like he was taking an opportunity to not shave now that he was home for a few weeks, and he had a newly healed scar across his lower jaw that still left some bruising by his ear. But other than that, he was still Robert. (Your Robby, you remember calling him as a kid, when you two were actually ‘married’ with Ring Pops you bought from the gas station at the end of the road.)
But one thing stuck out to you, in the summer heat he wore a thin white tee, and you could see every bit of muscle definition he had in store. Sure, he had always had a bit of muscle, and as a more reserved person you only got to see it when you went swimming or boating with him, but now it almost strained the old shirt.
“Hey Mols, Gennie.” He calls, his voice even having changed, losing a bit of its southern drawl. Then, he turns to where he hears your Mom complaining to Aster behind you and catches your eye. He lets out a low whistle that makes a smile crack across your lips subconsciously.
“You’ve aged like a fine wine,” he calls, a bit of his drawl coming back as if it was magically reborn in his throat.
“So have you.” You reply, throat dry. As much as you want to run into his arms and hug him— then slap him for leaving for so long, you feel rooted in your place. There he is, after years of wishing he would come back, and you feel so stupid because you can’t even muster a single word out of your chapstick-covered lips. (The same lips you want to press to his, you think to yourself bitterly as you scowl.)
You look like a damn idiot, you think after a beat of silence. You find yourself praying to God he doesn’t think the same. He shuffles awkwardly, sparing glances between your eyes and your body, before humming to himself.
"What, uh-- what's..." He drawls, before just stopping himself and sighing, slamming the door shut to his truck like it's personally offended him. 
"I've been fine." You pick up on what he's trying to ask instantly, it's just like he's back in high school trying to start a conversation with someone new again, "I went to college for Equestrian studies, in Savannah, and then I came back home. I live in that little cabin on the property, like a little apartment. My mom and I fixed it up after December."
You didn't need to tell him why December was important, he wasn't there. He’d also never met your ex-boyfriend. Bob would’ve known immediately Mike was gonna be a douche. You wished he’d been there to help you, secretly,
You find it hard to keep your lips shut when he shifts, his arms flexing— and the only thing you can think of is how he’d probably be able to knock Mike out with one hit.
Bob stammers, “What-- uh. What do you do now?"
"I run a horse sanctuary and training facility about a half-hour to the coast. I help do rehab, run events, and do private barrel racing and show lessons for kids." You explain, "I also do equine therapy for kids, we're doing a thing with the Air Force next month for retired veterans. Uhm." You shuffle on your feet, "what about you?"
He leans his arms on the fence, watching as the girls run amuck in the field now, the animals paying them no mind. You remind yourself your next project is making that cow section your mom wanted to use for dairy. Bob talking pulls you out of thought, “That's nicer than what I’m stuck with. I'm a Lieutenant Weapon's System Operator, WSO, with the Navy. I don't fly the plane but I sit in the back and run radars, bombs, and such so the pilot doesn't have to. I just finished an assignment with my squadron at the Naval Air Base in Miramar, at Top Gun. I have to go back for reassignment with them.”
"I don't know what any of that means." You chuckle, moving over to you're on the fence, but a good fifteen or so feet away from him. You knew squadrons, but the knowledge of what a WSO left your brain. Bob always had the military family growing up, not you, so you’d missed out on that knowledge.
"You'll learn," he says like you'll talk to him again after this. Do you want to? You want to tell yourself that you don't, but you know deep down you want to spend every living, breathing moment with Robert Jameson Floyd like you used to. But the silence was washing over you, making everything uncomfortable, so you stand from where you lean and make your way back to the barn, calling over your shoulder as you suddenly find the guts to ride again.
"Welcome home, Floyd."
From behind you, Bob watches you leave, mentally praying he'd never have to see the way you stared at him with some sort of unfinished puppy love in your eyes again. You may have thought it was unrequited, but he knew better. Despite himself, Bob knew he was doing it too. Considering, even with the four different partners he'd taken since leaving home, he'd never gotten over you. You had always been his endgame. Whether he liked it or not, you consumed every moment of his waking thoughts. Every single thing he did, he told himself you'd be proud of. Every single day he lived, breathed, and fought through every shit-filled mission and squadron to survive to see you just once more.
And now that he was just seeing you, it didn't even feel like enough.
He wanted to hold you in his arms, he wanted to kiss you and tuck you to his side and announce you two were finally dating to family, friends, and to his squadron, but who was he kidding? You were no longer as close as you had been, there was no more dynamic duo, no more Bob and Y/n. It was not Bob, Y/n. A pause between you. He'd told himself these three weeks he had in South Carolina were gonna fix everything.
But god, you'd changed.
Either you dyed your hair or spent enough time in the sun to cause it to lighten. Your usual freckles were much deeper now, with a few randomly littered scars to match it. You'd clearly let your hair grow out, considering it fell under your shoulder blades now in two, perfectly done braids-- a new skill as well. He was able to see the distinct changes in your style, new, tighter outfits, and no more makeup to dot your clean skin.
You were stunning, just as you were in high school, but god something felt different. Maybe it had been time, but you looked... better than he remembered from that awkward thanksgiving about five years ago. Even if you'd kept in contact, it was mostly about your younger sisters, family friends, or stupid questions like the color of your cast when you fell out of the tree in his yard and broke your arm. It had been pink the first time, then green, then blue, then white and red because it was almost Christmas. Your mom still had the casts somewhere in your basement, apparently.
He's pulled from his thoughts but the sound of a whinny, turning around to see you lightly stretching atop of your horse he'd only seen maybe three or four times before he'd moved away. He knew it was Fuego, by the dark color of the horse's hair, and he watches as you whistled and clicked in the certain way that sent Fuego tearing along the dirt. She kicked up in puffs as you lead her along a designated path of the right barrel, the left barrel, then the middle one before ripping forward. Molly started cheering, climbing up the fence to get a better look with Genevieve beside her.
"Miss Y/n is so cool!" Molly cheered, waving as you turned Fuego around after her spark ran out and she'd tired. You let her slowly pace back, waving back to Molly once she was in your eyesight, your sister giggling happily as she clapped.
His mom hadn't been kidding when she said you'd gotten really good at barrel racing and other horse-related things. It took everything in him to not say that you were cool, and so so pretty too.
"Miss Y/n's got a big race Friday." Molly informs him, "She's going up against a bunch of people she wants to beat!"
"That's fun," He murmurs, mentally making a note to ask his mom if they should go. Bob, despite being reserved and shy most days, knew you had seen him in every stage of life. Nothing about you made him want to hold back, he wanted to love you, and he hoped-- somehow, you'd see he cared before he had to leave, but he wasn’t sure if that would happen. You had grown since he was gone, and probably had eyes for better guys— like Rooster. Hangman, maybe, if he’d ever get his head out of his ass.
But the squadron had heard his drunken confession of love, and they’d be on their way to his quaint little farm for the biggest fourth of July party in South Carolina— as his mom called it. He had only a few weeks to either make it so you liked him, or to hide you from the squadron.
The time restraint was gonna stress him the fuck out.
...
Your mother had decided to invite Bob and his family over for dinner since your father was still in Jersey helping his brother with his Blueberry harvest as he did every year. the dinner plans were great because you loved his sister and Step-Dad and didn't wanna have more leftovers than you could eat again, but you did not want to see Bob at all. With dirt on your jeans, you stood at the oven, cutting up some turkey for the dinner your mother had prepared.
"Mom!" Genevieve called as soon as your two dogs, a Border Collie named Lieu (for Lieutenant) and a German Shepard named Cappy (for Captain), "The Floyd's are here!"
Your mother turned, setting a dish of shrimp down on the table as an appetizer, considering you both were still cooking, "Let 'em in, hon."
"Is Robby here too?" You asked and your mother nodded, continuing to hum along to Dolly Parton. Turning yourself to the dish in front of you, you continued to cut up the meat without acknowledging the group that had walked in. You knew Bob's family like the back of your hand, the way his mom kicked off her boots at the door, but his Step-Dad, Tom, wore his boots into the kitchen before remembering to take them off every time. His only sibling, Molly, would usually yell 'Daddy! Your boots!' and he'd laugh, saying, 'Thanks, Pumpkin,' before he'd clamber back down the steps to take them off.
"Miss Y/n," Bob's mother, Jenny Floyd-Boseman, said, stepping up to wrap one arm around your shoulder, "This is a beautiful lookin' slice of meat."
"Thanks," you smile softly, "I'm using my Nana's old rub recipe so, I'm kinda hoping my nostalgia didn't make me remember this tasting better than it was."
"This isn't Mikes Nana, right?" Jenny says, stepping back with a wicked look in her eyes. You try to hide your flinch at his name with an easygoing smile.
"Lord no. Asher would kill me if he even thought I was using something from Mike's family." You laugh, Asher was your older brother by only thirteen months, he was currently down in Tennesee running an apple farm with his childhood sweetheart, but he'd be back for the 4th of July party. As would your other younger siblings, twins by the names of Avalon and Gisele.
"Mike was a dirtbag." Tom says, giving you a tight hug, "How're you doing, Mini-Sav?"
He'd always called you Mini-Sav, after your mother Savannah, because you were practically a carbon copy of her. It made you laugh, "I'm doing wonderful Mister Boseman."
"Good." He smiles and plants a kiss on your hairline, before turning to help Molly and Genevieve set plates on the table.
"Need a hand?" A voice calls and you turn to see Bob, chewing on a toothpick idly as he breaks a soft smile across his lips when you make eye contact. You pause, listening to Shania Twain across the speakers in your house. Despite wanting to say no, you feel your mother's burning gaze into your back so you nod, pushing the uncut but of steak towards him.
"Cut it into slices as I have." You explain, "It just makes it easier for the girls to cut."
He nods, and you both work in silence, you humming along to 'You're Still The One' and trying not to think about how desperately you want to kiss the man next to you. He works silently, occasionally pushing his glasses up, and before you know it everything is cut and ready to be set on the table to eat.
You end up taking the head of one side, Bob taking the other as you all idly pass around food and the table is full of dull conversation about neighborhood gossip Savannah and Jenny had heard, or what Molly and Genevieve are doing in their classes. Kenny Chesny fills your ears as you tune it all out for a while, thinking about the certain lessons you need to run tomorrow for training when Tom's tapping the table in front of your to grab your attention.
"Sorry," You flush as you swallow your steak and sit back from your slightly hunched position, "I was in teacher mode."
"That's alright, Love." He laughs, "I was askin' if you ever heard back from Mike's sister, Shannon right?"
"Yeah." You admit, rolling your wrist, the same one your ex had slammed into a gate, taking you out of racing for months, "So, apparently she's in Texas now with Mike. Apparently, their brother's roommate came home from the Navy last night and chewed him out. I think they got into a physical fight over it, Shannon sent me pictures of his nose asking if it was broken. It was crooked so..." You snort, "Jake did a number on him. Better than Dad did."
You see Bob shift, a curious look in his eyes at the mention of Jake. You didn't know if he knew Seresin, but he might've because Jake was also in the Navy.
Your mother smiles, "Jake was an angel the one time Shannon and Chris brought him up here. Do you happen to know him, Robby? Jake Seresin?"
"Yeah, he's Hangman." Bob says like that makes sense to you, "He's the one who saved Rooster and Mav's asses--" You blink at him cursing, which makes him flush, "sorry, lives."
"Those girls have heard worse." Your mother laughs, "I'm glad the Navy's brought you a bit out of your shell."
"Yeah." Bob smiles softly, stabbing his green beans. You pretend to not notice the way he's gotten a bit tense since Mike was brought up.
"I'd beat an abuser too, it's kinda sad Jake beat me to it." Tom jokes, but the way his eyes shift to your wrist and then your shoulder, you know he's not joking. Tom, who'd become your pseudo uncle in the six years you'd known him, had been more upset than your own parents (even though they were livid, Tom was on another level) when you'd finally broke the news of Mike's narcissistic and abusive patterns to them. 
"Wait--" Bob coughs with a certain look in his eyes you can't catch because he's tensing his shoulders which makes the flex-- and god he could kill you with those hands, "Who is Mike? I, sorry, if it's not any of my business it's okay."
"No, you should know." You huff, setting your fork down as you brush a hand through your hair. You don't really wanna tell Bob, but you can tell by the way his gaze is fiery that he'll probably just call Jake and ask if you don't tell him. He always was able to find out all your secrets, even if you'd never spilled a word. Bob knew you better than you knew yourself and if he was this upset you couldn't even imagine how he'd react when you told the full story. Though, that was for another day.
"About two years, I started dating a guy-- Micheal Lees. He was everything I'd wanted, smart, shy, gentle, but still tough and able to stand up for me." You cough when you realize you're describing Bob, "But he started getting just... awful around last May. He was just... ugh, I don't even know how to explain it. He was cheating on me constantly but would gaslight me into thinking it was my fault. I walked on eggshells for eight months until I realized he was stealing from me-- as soon as I knew I told Tom and Jenny."
Bob is practically seething across from you.
"I got out of it in December, which is when I refurbished the cabin in the back to live in. He stole pretty much all my money and possessions, so I got in contact with his sister Shannon and brother Chris. They helped me get back what I could, and we filed a police report and all that together." You sigh, "When I was moving into the cabin, Chris, Shannon, and Jake-- Chris's roommate, drove all my stolen stuff from Texas to here. And, that was... two months ago? Jake had to leave early though because he had a deployment in California. And that's really it."
The table falls silent for a few moments, the only sound being people's forks moving on the plates and drinks being picked up and set down before Bob takes a deep breath.
"If I ever see Mike, I'll fucking kill him." He grits out and you nearly choke at either the growl in his voice or at the genuine sincerity behind the threat. You'd always been the assertive and aggressive one growing up, but there was sweet little bookworm and volunteer Bob, who'd catch spiders and flies in cups to let them out outside, saying he'd genuinely kill someone. 
Molly spilling her water takes the moment away though. You stand to grab paper towels as you shake off the feeling of dread in your gut. As you bring the paper towels to Molly, letting her help you clean up her mess, you catch Bob's eye. He's watching you, his mother murmuring something to him (probably part of the story you hadn't told), and for once you feel tiny in his baby-eyed gaze.
...
After dinner, Jenny insists on cleaning up with Tom, so you're left to your devices. You decide since you can hear thunder in the distance, to go lock up the barn. You get the goats and cows in pretty easy using Lieu as a herding dog-- which she was bred to do. You work her, watching as she gets the cows in with a little bit of a fight until lightning begins flickering across the clouds.
"C'mon, Lieu!" You shout, whistling as she finally nips the last calf to get her in the barn. You lock the door, leaning to the side to pull it shut as you drop some feed in as a makeshift treat for the cows as thanks for getting in with as little trouble as possible. The horses go in easy enough, but you notice, as you guide Lieu back to the house along a wooded trail that some of the chickens are still out. You huff, walking to their little pen when you see Cappy run straight past you-- the Shepard snarling as he chases something away.
"Captain!" Bob shouts, huffing as he runs up beside you. You laugh softly at his exasperated expression, surprised he'd been able to keep up with the dog for so long. It was a decently long run from your house to the chicken coop.
"Captain'll take care of the chickens." You inform him, leaning over to ring the bell that informed the chickens to come back to the coop.
"She was chasing a coyote, that's what I'm worried about." He stays, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. You huff, letting out a low whistle for a long moment before clicking-- a similar call to what you'd done to Fuego earlier. You're still ringing the bell as you count the chickens. Eventually, Captain does come back, nudging a few chicks along with her nose. 
"See?" You tease Bob, trying to push past the awkward feeling in your gut, "Told ya she'd be fine."
He laughs, wiping beading sweat from his forehead as you help Captain get the rest of the chicks into the coop. As you lock the gate, you give both Captain and Lieu treats, letting them annoy Bob for ones he doesn't have. He laughs at them, giving them both kisses on the head instead, which they accept, as they start to march away. You cross your arms, feeling the air beginning to cool as a breeze whips the trees. You look up, dark clouds beginning to cover the sky above you, and that's when it starts to pour. You curse, whistling for Lieu and Captain as you grab Bob's sleeve, trying to run to the house which is a half acre away.
"It's too far!" He shouts, pulling you back. You slip on the newly accumulating mud and he manages to catch you, his glasses falling off in the process. You drop down, grabbing them as you spin.
"The barn!" You shout instead, it was much closer, but still a bit of a run, and you both look at each other before taking off for the barn after a beat. He manages to keep up with you-- better than he used to, and Captain and Lieu keep at your heels and you run. It takes the both of you to slam the door open and shut against the wind, but once everyone's inside and accounted for you huff, handing Bob back his glasses with a soft sorry as you pull your phone out to text your mom and tell her you'd both taken shelter in the barn and would probably wait out the storm since it was supposed to only be an hour or so long.
Then, you realize, the barn is full of animals except for Bob. Now you wished you'd run back to the house instead of coming here.
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kristannafever · 8 months
Text
She Ain’t Gotta Do Much
Kristanna Modern au Rated: M WC: 2100
~I started this about five or six months ago with the idea it would be a cute little oneshot, and it turned into a novella.  True to my form, it’s 100% self indulgent.  
A/N: Inspired by the song lyrics ‘She Ain’t Gotta Do Much’ by Classified
Chapter Index
-------------
His thumb was hovering just above the screen as he scrolled through her photos.  All of the sudden the phone vibrated in his palm, and a little heart flashed across the screen.
What the…?
It dawned on him slowly what he’d done.  He looked at the bottom of the photo, and the empty heart was now red.  
Oh… No…
He might be new to social media, but he didn’t live under a rock.  The now red heart meant he had accidentally liked her picture.  He looked at the date it was posted and realized it was from three years ago.  
Oh fuck no!
“How do I unlike something?”
Sven pulled his head up from his sandwich.  “Huh?” he responded with a mouth full of food.
“Quick, how do I unlike something?”
Sven swallowed his bite. “Like on Instagram?”
“Yes!  How do I unlike it?”
“Just press the heart again.”
Kristoff pressed the heart again and it turned back to white.  Relieved, he let out a little sigh and set his phone face down on the table, not wanting to have that happen to him again.  He glanced at Sven and there was a funny look and a twisted smile on his face.
“What did you do?” he asked in a singsong voice.
“Nothing.”  
Sven was quiet for a moment, and then he dropped a bomb.  “She’s still gonna get a notification that you liked it, man.”
Kristoff stopped breathing.  “What?”
His friend was full on grinning now, clearly enjoying what was happening.  “If she has push notifications on, she’s going to see that you liked the post.”
His face felt suddenly way too hot.  “What if she doesn’t have them on?”
Sven shrugged.  “I dunno. Maybe it goes away.  I don’t know too much about that shit.  Clearly neither do you.”
No, he certainly did not know much about that shit.   “What if she saw I liked the photo, then she went to look and realized that I unliked it.”
“Then I would say she would be aware that you were creeping on her pictures.”
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking down at the table in thought.  This was why he was so reluctant to join social media!  Damn that secretary for signing him up.  He should have stood his ground.  What the hell was happening to him.  What was he going to do about this?
“Who were you creeping on?”
His head came up.  “What?”
“Whose account were you looking at?”
Somehow, his cheeks got hotter.  “Never mind.”
Sven looked at him closely for a second and then his face lit up.  “Dude!  The Boss? You were creeping on the Boss?”  He laughed like a maniac.
Kristoff felt mortified.
“Oh man!  I saw you take some hard looks at her, but then you have that thing going on with the secretary… wait, you’re not trying to double play them, are you?”
“What?  No!  Honestly, Sven, what the fuck?  You know I am not that kind of guy.”
His friend dipped his head in agreement.  “I know, just checking.  You’ve been weird lately.”
“Weird?  Weird how?”  Now he suddenly had worries that he was being weird in front of Anna.  Or rather, he knew he was being weird, now he was worried that she had noticed.
“Like you’ve been lonely way too long kinda weird.  How many times have I told you to get Instagram?”
“A bunch.”
“Uh huh.  And that blonde secretary goads you into it in one afternoon?  Gotta say, she ain’t your type, Kris.  Even I can see that.  So what the fuck are you doing?”
Kristoff was sure his cheeks were crimson.  He was embarrassed and he felt stupid and he himself didn’t have any idea what he was doing. He was just didn’t want her to keep bugging him!  And look where that had gotten him.
There was no way this day was going to get worse.  
The table vibrated under his elbow and Kristoff picked up his phone and looked at it.  His heart dropped into his stomach.  Anna Arendelle had liked his one and only post.
*****
Anna’s phone was laying next to her keyboard as she was furiously typing away when the screen lit up. She looked down to see a notification from Instagram.  Anna grabbed her phone and looked at it more closely.  Someone who didn’t even have a profile picture named Kristoff Bjorgman had liked a photo of her from three years ago.
“Who is this?” she muttered to herself, opening up the app.
Curious, she looked into his profile and realized it was Kris, one of the guys she’d hired to reno the office.  He only had one photo, giving the camera an amazingly awkward smile and wave.
Who the hell took this photo, she thought.  It’s awful.
Anna shrugged.  He probably liked it by mistake.  It wasn’t the first time this had happened to her. Poor guy was probably sweating bullets. She didn’t understand why it was seen as weird to look at someone’s public profile.  They all put themselves and their lives out there, people are bound to be curious, whether you want them to or not.  If Anna cared about controlling who looked at her pictures, she would have put her account on private.
Not giving it any forethought, she liked his one and only horrible photo, then set her phone down to get more work done.
 TWO WEEKS PRIOR
“Dude.  Relax.”
Kristoff couldn’t relax. This was a huge job, the biggest they’d ever looked at.  If he couldn’t give them a proper price, they were going to choose someone cheaper and their constriction company was going to lose out on yet another lucrative opportunity, which they absolutely could not afford to do.
“I don’t know how you are so calm about this,” Kristoff muttered.  His stomach was upset.
Sven smiled. “Maybe because I’m the brains of this operation, whereas you are the brawn.”
“If you’re the brains, why am I doing all the numbers?” Kristoff countered.
“Because I’m great with people, and you my friend, are good at math.”
“Exactly, Sven.  I do all the quotes and I do all the books.  I told you that we’re-”
Sven held up his hand, suddenly serious.  “Don’t go there.  Not now. We are going to land this job and it is going to open up a whole bunch of doors for us.”
Sometimes Sven’s joking, never ending, never-give-up-attitude was annoying, only Kristoff could see now that he did indeed understand the stakes.  That was why Sven was the show runner when it came to clients.  He was a natural with people and Kristoff was the opposite.   Even though they were both diligent workers, without Sven, he doubted if clients would get any confidence out of him based on simply having to talk, even if the price was good.  That was Kristoff’s strength, the numbers.  It was Sven’s to get them the work.
The elevator stopped on their floor and they stepped out into a well-lit lobby.   Kristoff hooked his finer in his collar and pulled at his tie, feeling extremely out of place in a suit.  It had been Sven’s idea to show up with an air of professionalism, and while it had sounded good at the time, Kristoff was lamenting going along with it now.
He followed, walking stiffly as they approached the reception desk where they were greeted by a good-looking young blonde woman.  Kristoff looked around the space while Sven worked his charm.  It already looked sleek and modern.  What was there for them to do here in such an already put together place?
The receptionist made a call from a desk phone and asked the men to follow her when she hung up.  They were led through a set of double doors into a space that was full of cubicles.  Walking through them to the other side which was lined with offices, they turned down a hallway and headed straight to the end.  The receptionist knocked, and a faint voice beyond the door told them to ‘come in’.
The office was absolutely massive.  Corner, of course.  Definitely the Boss.  Floor to ceiling book cases filled the entire wall to his right.  There was an entire living room sofa set as they entered, with a wet bar adjacent to the left of the door they had just walked through.   At the end was a commanding oak desk with four plush chairs sitting in front of it.  
Kristoff was still looking around when Sven made introductions.  It wasn’t until he heard his name that he turned to see the person whose hand he was about to shake, and had to look down.
Her copper hair was pulled into a professional updo and her blue eyes smiled along with her mouth as he shook her hand.   The makeup on her face was subtle, her freckles unhindered by it.  As she invited them to sit, Kristoff found himself mesmerised by her movements.  She was gorgeous.
Sven launched into a little history about their company and Kristoff did his best to pay attention. His mind kept wandering as he glanced around the room until the time came when he heard his business partner mention the ‘scope of work’.
“Let’s walk, shall we?” the Boss said as she stood.
Kristoff realized suddenly that he had been paying zero attention when she told them her name.  
Shit
~  ~ ~  ~  ~
 “Cheers!”  Sven laughed and clinked his pint glass to Kristoff’s and they took a long swig.  “Dude, I am so happy we landed that job.”
Kristoff let out a long exhale.  “Me too. You have no idea how relieved I am.”
Sven regarded him for a moment, smile faltering a little.  “If would make me feel a lot better if you had confidence in us.”
It made him feel bad to hear his friend say that.  In truth he did have confidence in them.  While their physical statures were similar, their personalities were the opposite. Sven liked to joke that he was an extrovert that had adopted Kristoff’s introverted ass when they were kids, and he wasn’t wrong.  Which was why they made such good friends and business partners.  Not only that, they were both exceptionally hard workers and the work they did was meticulous and of the highest quality.   Kristoff had a lot of pride in what they did.  
“I do have confidence, Sven. I’m sorry I don’t show it.”
Sven waved his hand. “Jesus, don’t go all soft on me. It was a joke.”
Kristoff laughed it off with his friend, knowing full well it had not been a joke.  
Like always, Sven brought up something else and they talked between watching the hockey game on the televisions in the Pub.  Kristoff tried his best to concentrate, but his thoughts kept going back to the job.
Thankfully after the Boss had showed them the scope of work she wanted done for the office – which was a nearly complete overhaul – she had handed them each a business card, saving him the embarrassment of having to ask Sven afterwards what her name was.
Anna Arendelle Administrative Director
Kristoff had spent two agonizing days going over the plans and all the numbers.  She wanted to convert the open bullpen of cubicles, into full offices.  Not only that, she wanted to remove three existing offices against the windows to have a communal area where clients could gather with the view of the downtown. And most curiously, she was cutting her office and two other large ones, into two.
The material quotes alone were the largest he had ever had to deal with.  Adding in sub-trades and figuring out how much labour costs this was going to take, wondering if him and Sven could even do it alone, gave him anxiety.
In the end, after taking an entire week to go over the pricing about a hundred times, he’d submitted the cost to the Administrative Director.  Her approval came within fifteen minutes, leaving Kristoff wondering if he really had to be all that worried over it in the first place.
They had met with her only a few hours ago to go over the contracts to get signatures and Kristoff had left feeling with a sense of awe that went well beyond the gratitude of the work she was giving them.  There was something incredibly alluring about her.  She gave off an effortless sense of grace and she held a deep intelligence in her eyes.  
By the end of their meeting, Kristoff understood that he was deeply attracted to her.  
---
Next Chapter
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waywardsummoner46 · 2 years
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Obumbratio Part One
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Pairing: The Darkling x Shadow Summoner!Reader 
Summary: Growing up in an orphanage taught you many things; not to get too attached for example or not to draw too much attention to yourself. Of course you ignored them, so when you save a young boy’s life and something hidden is revealed, how will this affect your life? What are these shadows and why do they react to you? What are the black veins and who is the man in darkness? He’s haunted you and the boy for five years, giving him horrendous nightmares but you’re starting to think that these dreams are a message rather than child-like imagination. Oh boy, are you in for a ride.
Word Count: 5773
Obumbratio - plural noun Latin for Shadows
Translations:  lapushka - darling suka - bitch  malen'kiy - little one
Warnings: Descriptions of a wound, The Darkling having a temper tantrum, descriptions of neglect and child abandonment, torture maybe, I don’t know, my brain hurts
A/N: New seriesssssssssssss. I got carried away with this and I don’t regret it in the slightest. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and don’t be afraid to tell me what you think! Hope you’re all okay and enjoy :)
________________________________________________________________
You’d always found solace in the shadows.
  They’d always been something to turn to when things got tough. Something that could shield you from the wicked world around you. Something… something that reminded you of home.
  What that home was exactly was a mystery to you. Having grown up in a Ravkan orphanage being abused, starved, neglected and surrounded by the miserable wails of dying children, you’d never felt the security and warmth included within a “home”.
  You had felt the momentary bliss of friendship however. With a boy called Rhys.
  Rhys was absolutely wonderful; he was your something to turn to when things got tough, he was your something that could shield you from the wicked world around you and he was the closest thing to a home you had. 
  At the orphanage, the staff either didn’t know or didn’t care about the privacy required for the young boys and girls as they shoved everyone in the same rotting, crumbling bed hall, leaving everyone exposed and vulnerable to each other.
  The lines were sorted by age - oldest by the doors, youngest by the wall opposite. 
  Cleanliness and good hygiene was something you’d only come across after leaving the orphanage and you shiver every time you remember how you had to share the dirty, disposed clothes that everyone had worn at least once. How the bedding would only be replaced for slightly less dirty ones when the child would wake up scratching and itching their skin until they bled due to the bed bugs and Saints knew what else.
  You’d never forget that one night, staring up at the ceiling after another restless night, only to jolt up when a shattering scream echoed through the hall. Every head popped up one after the other, all of them looking in the direction of the scream only to let out their own when they beheld the horror in front of them. 
  The newest orphan - Steffan, about five years old - was sobbing violently and clutching his hand. His bloody, fingerless hand. There was only one missing, but the crimson flooding his hand covered up the rest - when you turned your head you almost gagged at the sight of the mutilated finger, teeming with bite marks. Rats.
  Blood was spurting all over him, all over the floor, on his bed and over the matrons who feigned concern. You scoffed, the only reason they’re concerned is because they’ll undoubtedly have to report this to the boss.
  They spoke to him in a harsh and cold manner, only managing to worsen the boy’s state of mind. “Stop crying. It isn’t that bad, shut up you little worm.”
  It irked you. It infuriated you. This was a little boy for Saints sake! Even these matrons should have even the slightest shred of compassion. But no, of course they didn’t. Even at the age of fifteen, you had a better grasp on how to be a decent human than they did. You stood there as a silent observer with your fists clenched and breathing struggling to remain steady. Your eyes were narrowed and your lips were pursed. You could sense your anger rising. How could they be so cruel? How could they be so selfish? How could they-
  A cooling sensation brushed your clenched fist. You looked down at it, eyes widening in shock. Shadows were rubbing and moving around your fist, trying desperately to go in between the crevices of your fingers, so you let them.
  Your iron fist opened and you almost cried when they enveloped your hand in something almost human. Tendrils came between each finger and squeezed as though recognising your anger. 
  You turned slightly trying to see what possible explanation there could be, to find a source of the shadows but found none. You’d thought that maybe they came from the walls or from the windows or from someone else at the very least! When you realised that they came from you, reacted to your anger, there was an undeniable, unexplainable sense of dread brewing in your mind.
  It was pushed away though, when another agonising scream pierced through the hall’s unsettling silence. 
  You’d had enough of this. 
  Blind rage consumed you as you stormed between the rows of beds, ignoring the concerned and confused looks of the others’ and aiming for the matrons. 
  You were just metres away from them now, seemingly only just hearing your raging footsteps and looking up at you, face contorted into one of rage only to drop and pale with fear. 
  It caused you to pause. To hesitate and to notice that they weren’t looking at you… but behind you. 
  Gulping, you turned slowly too, fearing the worst. All that you found was a wall of black mist. Shadows, you noted in awe. Your shadows. 
  With a new found confidence, you turned back to the matrons with a barely detectable grin on your face. “Get out of my way,” you ordered, gleeful when they scrambled away from you like a scared deer.
  Steffan himself was still grasping his hand, grimacing and crying in pain but you now held his attention. His sobs had calmed to hiccups and quiet crying by now; however his face was constantly shifting to different expressions like fear and relief as though he was deciding how to react to you. 
  Contrary to the sick satisfaction of instilling fear in the matrons that you’d felt, you now held your breath in hopes that Steffan would trust you. He gulped and searched your eyes for something.
  When he found it, he started sobbing again but crawled towards you. Instantly, you enveloped him in a hug and carefully but firmly gripped his hand. You assessed the damage and couldn’t help but wince at the sight: some of the flesh had been ripped off, leaving jagged and sore marks in its place. The bone was still present, the flesh clearly having been nibbled on until the damn rats could tear it off. Saints, that must’ve been agonising. 
  Some of the flesh had tiny, rotten teeth stuck inside and signs of infection were clear just by looking at the black, putrid fangs. If he didn’t see expert medical care soon, he’d lose more than just his finger, he’d lose his entire hand. 
  During your examination, you’d blocked everything else out. Even the black wall of shadows you’d conjured up… until it was hovering right in front of your face. It had dramatically decreased in size, now a simple ball of shadows, but it edged towards the boy's hand tentatively as though it was cautious of you. 
  You gulped and felt Steffan tense up in front of you. “It’s alright, Steffan. They won’t hurt you,” you whispered and kissed his head in silent reassurance. Sensing your admittance, the shadows darted around his little hand and he pressed up against you further. 
  For some reason, you trusted these shadows, maybe even knew what they wanted to do. And it wasn’t to cause him harm.
  With that realisation, you turned away slightly to glance at the others in the room. To your surprise you found that you and Steffan were being kept in a sphere of shadows, giving you privacy from the prying eyes of the other children. It protected you from their gaze and protected them from all of the gore that no child should be subjected to. 
  There was vague murmuring from beyond your bubble of security that sounded quite rushed and panicked but you paid it no heed. 
  Steffan let out a gasp and your head snapped to him to find him already looking at you. That’s odd, you thought. Surely he should be looking at his hand. “Y-your face,” he whispered hoarsely. He raised a hand - his fully healed hand - and cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your cheek. 
  “What’s wrong with it?”
  “There are lovely black lines all over it, it’s beautiful.”
  You ogled at him, what did he mean? Your hand encased his shakily and the instant that it did, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, he fell out of your arms shaking violently. 
  You knelt over him, desperately trying to help him but how, how, how? 
  The shadows around you started shaking in a way similar to Steffan, violently, erratically… dangerously. You looked up in fear, seeing images of grotesque beings in the darkness, of people dying and buildings being demolished. What is this? 
  All of a sudden, they stilled and something vague took over the wall of shadows. It seemed to be a… a man. In front of an ancient, plant ridden castle of sorts? He seemed to be surrounded by men with weapons. 
  Was he a criminal? Was he dangerous? He didn’t seem to be. In fact, he seemed to be the one in danger. You were overcome with an inexplicable emotion that overwhelmed you, it tightened your chest and gripped your heart, causing it to beat rapidly. What is happening to you?
  It builds up and up, spreading to the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. It choked you and forced tears to your eyes. Your hands flew up to your neck, clawing at it, scratching at your skin until blood caked your fingers because you couldn’t breathe. 
  You started hyperventilating but couldn’t breath, you started crying but no tears fell, you screamed out for help but no sound escaped you. 
  You could feel your body shutting down, a numbness spread throughout you and you clenched your eyes shut, waiting for death to claim you. 
  Saints, what went wrong? How did everything go wrong so quickly? 
  You curled up on the stony floor, eyes tightly shut and waited with dread for… for what? 
   “I have no army to fight yours,” a breathless voice said. 
  You sucked in a breath - you could breathe! - and opened your eyes slightly, blinded by the sunlight dancing on your skin. Raising a hand to shield your eyes, you pushed yourself off of the floor and looked around to see where you were. 
  There was grass at your fingertips but stone was underneath your body. Trees surrounded you and there was a beautifully old building behind you. You didn’t have time to appreciate it though.
  You were at the feet of the same man who spoke and who you’d seen in your shadows. Were you somehow in the image? 
  He was very handsome but his face was stricken with pain so deep that you couldn’t even imagine what had caused that. His arms were spread out wide and he seemed to be focused on the image in front of him. 
  There were soldiers clad in blue armour with guns and weapons lathered all over their persons. They surrounded him, all aimed their guns at him but he didn’t look scared. No, he looked determined. 
  There was a clear difference between the man and the army. He wore black, embroidered to perfection and he seemed comfortable with who he was. They looked uncomfortable with what they were wearing, as though it was more a duty rather than a passion.
   None of them noticed you though. 
  The leader of the army was almost directly behind you, his sword drawn. 
  You decided to be brave and stood up but your knees almost buckled when you beheld the man’s face. It was covered in black veins, like what Steffan said was on yours. Was this a sign? Was he like you?
  Shaky breaths left you but no sound escaped you when he declared, “So I shall remake yours as my own.” Oh no, no, no, no. This can’t be good. 
  The black veins spread all over his face and appeared on his hands, most likely over his entire body. His head leant back. He said, “Submit. To. Me!” Then he unleashed himself.
  Black shadows shot out of him, pushing away everything and everyone. It was only a singular pulse but it rendered the entire army and yourself to your knees. They grunted in pain but you only fell back because of the force, not because it hurt you. For a split second, you could’ve sworn his eyes darted to you but the instant you noticed they were back focusing on his enemies. 
  You turned as well, albeit reluctantly, but your face dropped when you beheld the black veins corrupting their faces as well. The man behind you let out a sudden gasp of pain, then more until he started yelling in agony. HIs head again tilted back but he seemed less sure of himself now.
  You staggered back a bit, falling down the stone stairs you were on. 
  He let out a final bellow and the full extent of his power was revealed. Solid, unending shadows flew out of his shoulders and went left, right, up and down.
  It crumbled the building behind him and ripped the trees from their roots. It blocked out the sun and consumed all of your senses. You screamed in terror. Oh Saints, what was that noise? 
  The soldiers were now creatures. Something sent from hell and for some reason you gravitated towards the very man who’d made them. He was on the floor, seemingly unconscious and you crouched over him in a way similar to how you did with Steffan, hands shaking desperately as you tried to navigate through the darkness. You couldn’t see anything.
  Your hands roamed his body, looking for his neck, looking for a pulse, heaving a sigh of relief when you found one. 
  He’s alive at least but after all of that you wondered if it would’ve been a bad thing if he had died. That sort of power is something that no one should have (you ignore how you seemed to be similar to this man in more ways than one).
  His hand gripped yours but his eyes remained closed. He screamed again, deep and guttural and high-pitched and childlike? Steffan?
  You were back in the orphanage. Shadows still around you, calm now. Steffan was screaming but remained unmoving bar the iron grip on your wrist. You tried to pry his fingers off of you because good Saints he was stronger than he looked.
  Then he stopped and he sat up. You were so confused, this must be a dream. Some sick, twisted dream. 
  He twisted his torso to face you. His face was relaxed and his lips twitched up in a fond smile. You would’ve smiled back had you not looked into his eyes. They held too much wisdom for a boy of that age and seemed to be filled with something unfamiliar to you. 
  “You’re not Steffan,” you whispered boldly, a stark contrast to how you felt on the inside. His slight grin turned into a smirk, so alien for a boy this age.
  The hand on your wrist creeped up to your cheek, forefinger against your temple. “I’m sorry, lapushka.” You had no time to process what that meant before onyx veins spread along his face and weaved around his fingers until they touched your temple and you lost consciousness, forgetting the stranger in the boy’s eyes.
When you woke up, you blinked blearily at the room around you. 
  Great, you were in the Head Matron’s office. It isn’t your fault that you could do a better job than those who were supposed to be able to. 
  You were sitting at one of two chairs in front of her humongous desk. On top of it, there were stacks and stacks of papers of all kinds, legal documents, bills, letters from so and so. The carpet was a horrendous pattern with dark blue and bright red colours, curtains matching it on the massive window in front of you and chairs identical as well. This wasn’t much better than what you were used to, despite it actually having colours, somehow you’d prefer the old, familiar grey ones in the hall.
  Shelves and cupboards hid the wallpaper on every wall and they were filled to the brim with books of all kinds and trinkets that held little value to anyone, pathetic little decorations. They were designed to rub it in the faces of those unfortunate enough to be in the office that they did, in fact, have a happy, comfortable life. In this scenario, guess it was you.
  The door blasted open and in walked the Head Matron - her usual scowl plastered on her face - and she was dragging a boy in by the ear, said boy grimaced in pain but had an amused twinkle in his eyes. 
  She instructed him to sit on the chair next to you and he did so with a shit-eating grin on his face. He turned to you, looked you up and down and let out a low whistle. “Well, if this is my last night then I can't say I’m complaining. It’d be my honour to go out in the presence of someone so enchanting.”
  You raised an amused brow. “Not so bad yourself, handsome.” He was indeed very handsome. Short but neat black hair, striking blue eyes and beautiful freckles littering his face. He was gorgeous.
  “Aye! Both of you, eyes on me. Punishment hasn’t even begun yet,” the matron squawked. She loaded into a pre-prepared script of what you’d done wrong and what the suitable punishment for it was and all the while, you held the handsome boy’s hand and gave each other silent comfort despite only knowing one another for five minutes.
  Being an orphan here means that you rely on those around you for comfort whilst never growing close to anyone. Children die all the time and if you don’t already know not to grow attached then you learn it the hard way… you had to and soon you’d learn that Rhys had to as well. 
  After an hour of the sickly old woman droning on and on, she dished out your punishment which was to clean the clothes and sheets of the others’ for a month. You almost squealed with delight, this wasn’t punishment, this was a blessing. 
  You and Rhys turned to each other, masks of discontent on your faces, and determined then and there that you’d do this for the others, do your bit to make this place half-acceptable at the very least. 
  These children deserved a clean bed to sleep in and you’d provide them with that. 
  Just like that, you and Rhys grew close to each other, closer than anyone had risked in that orphanage and in the end you became each other’s home. Learning what friendship was, what trust was and most importantly… what love was.
Five years had passed since that first night. You were twenty now, Rhys was twenty one and Steffan (who you’d kind of taken as your unofficial son) was ten.
  Work loads became almost unbearable on you; cleaning, sewing, stitching, cooking. Anything the matrons themselves couldn’t be bothered to do, you did. 
  It was only you. No one else. The result of you actually saving someone’s life was being forced to do more labour and consequently feel yourself wasting away. 
  Rhys always helped when he could. The cleaning job became date night as it was the only privacy you two ever got and was the only time when you could feel as though you’d done something for the other orphans.
  The youngest orphan now was a little girl called Branwen who was four. You and Rhys being the oldest, had to act as everyone’s unofficial parents; making sure everyone was fed (even if it meant sacrificing your own food), putting everyone to bed (even if that meant you didn’t have a bed to sleep in), making everyone happy (even if it sacrificed your own) and just looking out for them in general.
  There wasn’t a single child who didn’t look to you or Rhys for comfort. You’d become their shoulder to cry whilst Rhys had become yours and you his. 
  The dynamic everyone had was the best that the orphanage had had in years. Children were actually smiling and laughing, sometimes it hurt to think that you’d never been able to do that. That you’d never had a childhood but in a way you were grateful for the tough times you’d gone through as it’s helped you become the kind, caring young woman you were today.
  Speaking of today, you were absolutely exhausted. 
  The Head Matron had been extra cruel today, criticising everything you did and putting more work on your shoulders so that when you’d finished one task, there were about fifty others to do.
  By some miracle, you’d managed to finish every single bloody task the old crank had given you. Your back was in agony and you ached all over and looking at the clock, you realised exactly why you were exhausted. It was two o’clock in the morning! 
  Grumbling, you sauntered down the barren hallways, the moon taunting you through the barred windows. It was a constant reminder of the freedom you could have. After all, you were twenty now, an adult, perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and whilst that fact is true there were one hundred and four children that were not capable. And so you stayed for them and for Rhys.
  Your footsteps echoed through the silence. After countless late nights of work, you’d memorised the layout of this jail and could give a tour with your eyes closed. 
  The peace and quiet that came with staying up this late was always a welcome feeling. What wasn’t though, was the constant reminder of the shadows.
  After that night five years ago, you’d never even thought to welcome the shadows again. You learned that same night that they reacted to your emotions so you tried your best to keep a level head and have succeeded throughout the years.
  They never popped up again, not even when someone else was injured or in danger. You loved all of the children with your entire heart but you would never risk corrupting them the way you had Steffan. Because that’s what the shadows were: corrupt. They were a stain of your very soul, a reflection of how sinful your very core was. You’d only done anyone good in your life so far but the way you viewed the darkness was that it was a warning for your future actions.
  Rhys and Steffan completely ignored this, reassuring constantly that you were the best person they knew and in some ways you could see where they were coming from but lying awake every night, you remembered vividly what you saw within those shadows. You knew exactly what had happened in those shadows.
  You’d witnessed the Black Heretic creating the Fold, the Volcra and every evil within. That was what you could do if given the chance, if for some reason you were pushed to your breaking point and unleashed the Devil’s power that you’d had the misfortune of being born with.
  Having seen the destruction the fold caused, you vowed to never, ever use those shadows again. You hated the shadows, despised them even. But even you weren’t strong enough to deny their pull or how familiar and safe they made you feel. 
  You resented it and you resented him. The man who’d made you fear yourself.
  The door to the hall came into view and you opened it as slowly and quietly as you could. The room was pitch black save the odd candle lining the walls and it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
  The order of who slept where remained the same; youngest to oldest. You and Rhys slept by the end wall, the coldest wall, but it didn’t matter because you had each other. 
  Approaching your bed was like walking through a labyrinth, there were beds everywhere which were all different lengths with people in various positions. You huffed a laugh when you saw one child on the floor. Sauntering over to him quietly, you hooked an arm underneath his shoulders and knees and gently set him back on his clean (clean) bedsheet. His blanket was on the floor you noticed, so picking it up you placed it back over him and wished him goodnight with a delicate kiss to the forehead. 
  Sighing contently, you thought, just another night. 
  Finally, you reached your bed and were ready to just collapse on it but you raised a disapproving eyebrow at Rhys who was still awake. “What do you think you’re still doing up?” You whispered at him. He merely smirked at you in the dim candlelight, raising the quilt on the two merged single beds to beckon you into his embrace.
  Shaking your head and smiling softly, you complied and lied down next to him, leaning  your head on his chest and wrapping your arms around each other. 
  He pressed kisses to the top of your head as he sensed that you needed some comfort. “The old suka gave you an entire army’s worth of work, did she?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
  You hummed against his chest, desperately chasing the sleep that would never come. 
  “That’s only because she’s jealous of you, lapushka.”
  You smiled. Only he called you that and every time he said it, a warm feeling enveloped you. “Well, I can’t think of anything he could be jealous of apart from my dashingly good looks and undeniable charm.”
  He let out a snort, quieting down when you slapped him playfully. “Alright! Alright, I’m sorry. But yes, that’s exactly what she’s jealous of… and the fact that you do her job better than her.” The way he said it made it sound as though there was something more so you looked up at him to see a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
  “And?” You prompted.
  “And,” he drawled. “You have a glorious, wonderful, absolutely mesmerising pair of-” He was cut off by someone clearing their throat.
  You both looked up, biting back a smile, to see Steffan clutching his blanket and looking at Rhys with a disapproving eyebrow raised, exactly like how you did only minutes before. The habits he’s copied off of you makes your chest swell with pride but when you look at his hand you're reminded of why your influence is a bad thing.
  Steffan’s entire right hand had been consumed with the black veins that haunted your dreams and where his finger was bitten off now rested a normal finger save for the patterned darkness surrounding it. It hadn’t appeared as soon as the shadows had healed it, rather growing over the years. 
  You always hated that you’d tainted his skin like that but he wore it with pride and as though it were a gift that you gave him. Rhys seemed to encourage Steffan’s view point, constantly pointing attention to the fact that you’d saved the kid and helped him become confident in his skin, braver than he’s ever felt before.
  Rhys was a stubborn and selfless person as he always dismissed you when you counteracted his words with the fact that he’d helped you too, that you’d both had a hand in raising him and the others. Only two very small reasons why you loved him so much. 
  “What is it, malen'kiy?” You asked him quietly. When he didn’t answer, you lifted the covers and fully expected it when he jumped underneath and cuddled up into you. He started crying quietly, face hidden in your chest and you felt his tears staining your night shirt. “Alright, my darling. It’s okay, you’re okay. Do you want to tell us what happened?”
  He sniffled against you. You and Rhys shared a worried look already dreading what he had to say. His nightmares were beginning to get more and more concerning and you were truly worried about him.
  You all remained in the silence as he tried to compose himself. You whispered comforting words to him and Rhys rubbed his arm up and down Steffan’s back.
  “Th-there was a man,” he started, both you and Rhys tensing up. You’d told Rhys everything you saw in that vision and confided all of your fears to him. “He was very tall, with black hair. He wore some sort of black uniform and-” he cut himself off with a whimper. 
  “Shhhh, you’re alright. Carry on,” Rhys consoled. Both of you knew where this was going. Steffan seemed to have the same vision you’d had but in the form of a nightmare and each time it was exactly the same except you weren’t there.
  “A-a-and there were black lines on his face and on his arms. His face was so angry but he wasn’t shouting. H-he had,” a pause and an audible gulp. “He had Rhys in his arms and he was threatening him and had his hand over his face, making the black veins spread over to him.” Okay, this is new. “Then Rhys started shaking and screaming and crying and I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t know where (Y/N) was and I was so scared.”
  He was sobbing now, his no doubt tear stricken face hiding still in your chest. 
  “The bad man started saying that he’d take Rhys and change him into something horrible and that I’d never be able to see him again. He looked at Rhys again and started making noises like he was in pain. Rhys was screaming so loud - it was so loud and I was so scared. But I still couldn’t move.
  “The bad man put his other hand on Rhys’s face and more black veins went on him. He said he’d make him into his creature, into his demon and that he’d never take what was his again and after Rhys screamed for the last time, he dropped his hands and told Rhys to kneel and Rhys did. He did and I didn’t and then the bad man turned to me and said that he was now my father and that (Y/N) was my mother and I didn’t know what to do!”
  You gripped him unbelievably tight, letting out shaky breaths and holding in your own tears. Rhys looked terrified but cooled his features into one of concern when he saw you looking at him. You hoped Steffan was done but it only got worse.
  “Then (Y/N) came out of the shadows, because that’s where we were; inside the shadows but it wasn’t (Y/N)’s nice shadows, it was the bad man’s mean ones. And she came out of the shadows and ran towards me and gave me a big hug and said that everything would be okay but then the bad man started talking to her and he said that she was his and that he’d never let anyone take her away from him and that she’d realise that her powers are only equal to him and that she was all he needed and then he took her away. He took her away from me, and he took Rhys and-and-and-” you silenced his rambling, fighting to keep your heart level and your tears from spilling. Rationally, you knew that this would never happen. The man you both keep seeing died when he created the Fold, only his descendant, The Darkling, is what remains of his bloodline. 
  He shares your powers but you would never let anyone know that apart from your closest family. 
  Steffan’s nightmares were getting so much worse and you couldn’t help but think that your shadows had something to do with that. 
  “Steffan, listen to me,” you grabbed his chin and wiped away his tears. “That bad man is dead and he can never, never hurt you, me or Rhys. Rhys will always be yours as he will always be mine because he loves us just as we love him.”
  Rhys chimed in. “She’s right. I love you both so much, little guy. I’d never leave you and the bad man can’t take (Y/N) away either because she will fight until her last breath for us just like I would for you too. You are so brave and we love you, alright?” 
  Steffan’s sobs had quieted down to unpredictable hiccups and laboured breathing but he’d calmed down which was a relief. Rhys gently gripped his right hand and held it up for you all, you tensed but he didn’t seem to notice. “What does this mean, Steffan?”
  “It means that I’m brave and I’m strong and that (Y/N) saved my life,” he chanted like a soldier.
  Rhys made a noise of affirmation and Steffan continued. “It means that she loves me and I love her and that we love you?” He finished like it was a question and you chuckled a bit.
  Rhys let go of his hand and ruffled his ginger hair. “That’s right, buddy. And you know what else?” Steffan looked up at him in wonder and shook his head sniffling a bit. “It means that we protect each other and that we fight anyone who tries to separate us, isn’t that right?” The young boy nodded and took it to heart, wrapping his little hands around you both and covering you with his blanket,
   “This is yours, Steff. You take it,” you said reproachfully.
  “Nuh uh! This is your shield! It protects you against the bad man!”
  You sighed and thought of a compromise. “What if we all hid under it together? That way everyone’s protected!” His head couldn’t have nodded any quicker. “Alright then, come here you little munchkin.”
  He nuzzled up to you and fell asleep almost instantly. 
  You and Rhys didn’t speak for a good while, observing Steffan just in case he had another nightmare but when you were satisfied that he’d sleep soundly for the rest of the night you broke the deafening silence that had dominated the hall. 
  “His nightmares are getting worse, Rhys. I’m worried.”
  “It’s alright, lapushka,” he whispered soothingly into your ear and adjusted his head so that his chin rested on top of your head. “We’ll deal with it like we always do: together.” 
  His words calmed you down considerably but what Steffan said disturbed you for a reason you couldn’t work out. In the end, you decided to settle down and close your stinging eyes. It didn’t take you long to fall into a dreamless sleep, Rhys falling asleep not long after you but his dreams were plagued with the screeches of monsters and a distorted voice talking to him.
  After the events of the night, he completely forgot to tell you about the Grisha testers who’d arrive tomorrow… what a mistake that’d turn out to be.
__________________________________________
Tag list~
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@notan-applepielife
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kimiheartblade · 9 months
Text
Deeper look at him/What he looks like
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Alright this is a redo on a deeper look at him. Because @powdered-kneecaps gave me the most beautiful art of Bug! Plus I have some more things to mention! Divider by: @saradika
--Mando'a used-- Vode: brothers Shebs: backside, rear, butt, ass Ori'vod: older brother
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Bug tends to end up being everyone's problem, not because he causes trouble like some of his vode. No, this poor man is a bug magnet. He swears he's tried everything he can think of to ward them off. He's even jokingly suggested they could try using one of Bitter's old socks if they don't mind having one of those along on a mission. That one had Charge threaten him with refresher duty for a month if he even so much as tried to bring one of those socks on a mission.
This bug problem is so bad, that his vode have to check his back before he can get back on the ship. Just to be sure he's not bringing along any new "friends" with him. He hates it the most on swamp planets or forest planets, that's where you tend to find swarms of insects. Which of course, those swarms always zone in on him. Sure it keeps the General from being eaten up, but these planets make things so much harder on him. All because he refuses to take his gear off to sleep at night.
He's done it before, and he'll never do it again. The last time he did that he got a nasty bite on his foot, all because one bug found it's way in his boots. So now he chooses to just sweat in his armor, because he really doesn't want to find out where else a bug might choose to bite him. Which results in his vode making him head straight for the refresher, as soon as they clear him to get on the ship. Surprisingly though, he doesn't hate all bugs. He actually really likes the pretty and harmless ones. He just wishes they didn't like him so much.
He's still trying to live down the butterfly incident, even if he found it a bit funny himself. Thanks to this incident though his brothers, sister, and General all worked together to get him a pet lizard to help with the problem. He named him Wizard. Despite his problem he tends to be a pretty laid back and happy guy. He loves going to 79's with his brothers and actually getting to relax. They've got some great pest control, so he actually gets to take his helmet off without worry. He loves seeing the look on the faces of some of their vode when they see despite just living in that kriffing bucket, that his hair is perfect and his skin is flawless. He's got a great self care routine, he's not about to let those bugs ruin his chances with some cute girl completely.
He's a big flirt when he's feeling confident in himself, and he knows he wont have to worry about any bugs getting in the way. But the minute someone flirts back, he's gonna get a little flustered and start blushing. He won't let that stop him from keeping a flirty conversation going, but if the right person comes along this man is going to get tongue tied. Honestly the farthest he's ever felt comfortable enough going is a kiss, he just doesn't want his problem to become someone else's.
He's a lot like Bitter when it comes to the General. If they invite her to 79's he's making sure to keep an eye on her. He knows she's tough and can take care of herself, but he just can't stop the brotherly feelings. He won't go so far as to threaten Rex when he finds out they're involved, he leaves that to Bitter. Instead, he's actually going to help Mira surprise Rex. He'll 100% sneak little snacks and things to the 501st right past the noses of Fives and Echo. If he gets caught carrying something he just lies and says it's some boring pain in the shebs reports from Charge and Fluke. He lays it on convincingly too, he makes sure that whatever goodie he's smuggling to his ori'vod is the most unappealing thing to the domino twins.
He started braiding his hair after a mission where they saved a village. As a thank you the village welcomed them and let them rest up there for the night. Some children of this village took a liking to Bug and braided his hair to thank him for keeping them safe. They even added little purple beads to the end. He fell in love with how it looked and kept those braids for months until they started to come undone and get frizzy. By that point he was researching how to braid hair, specifically he went looking for the exact way those children had braided his hair so that he could get it just right. One braid is longer than the other because much like the children, he couldn't get it perfectly symmetrical. But he likes it that way.
Shriek and Tup are the only ones of his siblings he really trusts with his hair. Shriek will often brush it for him if he's too tired in the mornings or evenings, this will often make him drift off to sleep. Tup will sometimes help with the bun.
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