#if you think an actual raccoon can’t do that to a human face

[grayintogreen]

James Gunn doing a lot for the world by showing cute CGI raccoons and then two hours later showing you precisely why you do not want one as a pet. Most filmmakers don’t build a disclaimer into their film quite so violently.

#if you think an actual raccoon can’t do that to a human face #see me behind the dumpster #guardians of the galaxy #gotg spoilers #Rocket raccoon

[allllium]

Cat

~ If you guys have any requests you should send me some. Now that I actually have motivation to write I have no ideas 😓

~ Fluff, WC: 1,070

~ Reader finds a "cat" ~

Matt is only two blocks from your shared apartment when he notices something is different. Something he can’t quite figure out. There’s a second heartbeat alongside yours, but it is smaller than a human's. A lot smaller. 

He is one block away when he notices that a window is open. Why would you have the window open? It’s December, and you seem to run cold at all times. That’s when he hears little paws running across the hardwood floors. Now, it makes sense. You guys have been talking about getting a cat for a while now. But the animal doesn't smell like a typical cat. 

It all comes together when he finally goes down the stairs to enter the apartment. It is not a cat. It's a raccoon. You let a wild animal into the apartment. And you’re currently trying to feed it marshmallows. 

“Hey, baby.” You greet him happily when you see him standing in the corner. You give him a beaming smile, one he does not return. You knew it was a bad idea, but what else would you do when there’s a raccoon on the windowsill? Not let it in and feed it marshmallows?

Matt pulls his helmet off and walks over to the coffee table, where the raccoon perches. “What is that?” That is all he asks. You both know he knows, but he asks more for an explanation. 

“It's a cat..” Your voice is quiet and full of held-back laughter. 

“That's not a cat.”

“How do you know? You can't see it.” 

“I can smell it.”

“Maybe it’s friends with a raccoon,” You stop and collect your breath before continuing, trying hard not to laugh. “And the smell rubbed off on it.”

“Oh yeah? Then why are you feeding it marshmallows? Cats can’t eat those.” 

“Uhh, 'cause this is a special cat. It can eat marshmallows.”

“And by special cat, you mean raccoon?” 

“Pretty much yeah.” Matt stares at you, nodding softly at your words, before grabbing the bag of marshmallows out of your hand.

“We are not keeping it.” 

“But you said we could get a cat!” You yell out in despair, standing from your place on the couch.

“That’s not a cat!” He motions towards the raccoon that has started standing on the coffee table on two legs.

“It’s practically a cat!”

“It's on two legs!”

“But it's adorable!”

“Honey, it’s a wild animal.” You watch Matt run a hand through his hair in frustration. “We can’t keep a raccoon as a pet.”

“Why not?”

“It's illegal.”

“Well, good thing I know a lawyer.”

“Sweetheart,” He steps forward to put a hand on your face, “I love you, but we can’t keep the raccoon.”

“Fine.” You mutter in defeat. “Can I at least leave marshmallows out for it?”

“Yeah, you can do that.” Despite having to release your new friend, a big grin breaks out across your face to mirror his. 

“Good, I don't want him to be lonely.” You tell him and lean onto his chest. 

“Honey, it's a raccoon, he won't get lonely.” He laughs at your concern for the raccoon. You carefully place marshmallows in a path from the coffee table to the open window.

“How do you know? You've never been a raccoon.” Matt sits on the couch and pulls you into his lap. 

“Baby, they're animals that eat trash. I don't think they have very high thinking skills.” 

“Yeah, you're probably right. Anyway, why are you back so early?” 

“Because my crazy girlfriend let a wild animal into our apartment.” You chuckle at his words.

“Does that mean you're going back out?”

“No, I think I'll stay in. Someone's gotta make sure you don't open that window again.” 

“Hm, in that case, maybe you should change into your comfy clothes, and we can watch a movie?” Even though Matt can't watch the movie with you, he always insists on sitting with you and listening. 

“That sounds like a good plan. I'll go change.” He kisses you on your forehead and gets off the couch, pushing you off his lap and off to the side.

While Matt is in the bedroom, you watch the raccoon still making its way down the marshmallow trail. You only had the small ones you use in hot chocolate, so it's taking longer.

Matt enters the living room again as the raccoon leaves through the open window. On his way to the couch, he shuts the open window. You jokingly pout at the loss of your new friend. 

“I bet it'll be back soon, sweetheart. No animal is going to forget the window that gives them marshmallows.” He chuckles as he sits by your side. 

“Yeah, I know, but what if it forgets?” He laughs at you again. 

“Honey, you're thinking too hard about this. What if we go to the shelter and look for a cat tomorrow.” 

“No. We can't do that.” 

“Why not?” Confusion covers his face with laughter in his voice.

“Because if we go down to the shelter, there's gonna be tons of animals begging to go home with us, and then we'll have to choose between all of them, and then when we do, all the other animals will be sad, and wonder why we don't want them.” You explain, speaking a little faster than usual. 

Matt lets out a hard sigh, “I don't even know how to respond to that.”

“Uh, you're supposed to agree with me 'cause I'm always right.”

“Oh yes, of course.” He gives you a big smile, almost taking your breath away. No matter how much you see it, his smile will always be the most beautiful thing in the world. “What?”

“What?”

“I can feel you staring.” 

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Mhm.” He pulls you closer, leaving you unable to look at his face.  “How do you expect to get a cat if we can't go to the shelter?”

“We had one a few minutes ago, but you didn't like that one.”

“That wasn't a cat!” He exclaims.

“It was close enough.” You cross your arms over your chest. Matt doesn't like that as he pulls your arms away from your chest to hold your hand. 

You sigh happily into his chest as you lean against him, your legs over his lap with his arms around you. You both forget about the movie, too focused on each other to care.

#matt murdock fluff #matt murdock my beloved #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock reader insert #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fic

[puppy-steve]

wayne takes him hunting one season and while eddie doesn’t particularly enjoy waking up before the sun and bundling himself in camouflage and traffic cone orange on a saturday, he does enjoy a good homecooked meal made with meat you hunted yourself. makes him feel good about what’s going into his body (though you’ll never hear him pass up burger king, especially if someone else is paying.)

eddie’s got himself a hefty prize pile going in the sled they brought, made up of smaller game.

(he’s only a little disappointed it isn’t deer season.)

wayne’s grumpy about it and says eddie’s got an advantage because of his age and his eyesight being better. normally, they’d be in the woods from sunup to sundown, but wayne’s gotta work the next day, a rare day shift, so they call it quits around three pm. wayne gets his last shot in and he goes to pick the animal up, lamenting the lack of a retriever dog as his knees crack and pop, when he hears a rustling in a nearby tree trunk.

ah shit.

a tiny, furry grey head pops up and wayne doesn’t figure it’s old enough to fend for itself yet. he motions for eddie with a flick of his fingers and puts them to his lips. he drops the body in the sled as eddie scruffs the raccoon kit and lifts it from the tree so it doesn’t put up a fight and scratch or bite him. they’re strapped for cash enough as it is and rabies shots are expensive.

“what do we do with it?” he asks, holding the thing up to eye level. it can’t be more than a couple months old, still completely dependent on its mother for survival.

wayne sighs and starts packing their gear. “got a buddy who works at the rehab center. we’ll take it there and see if they can do anything.”

the drive there, eddie keeps the little thing tucked into his coat. the middle of january still brings cold snaps and snow and the animal is shaking despite its thick winter fur. eddie thinks it’s kind of cute.

they were right about the raccoon’s age; around three months, wayne’s buddy estimates from her weight. she’s a female, which delights eddie for a reason he can’t explain. after she’s got her shots, he tells them that, legally, they need a permit to keep her, but since he and wayne go back a ways, he can let a few things slide.

so they go home and dig out an old cage to keep her in until she stops growling and hissing at them when they get close to her. she lives off a diet of eggs mixed in milk and has to be bottle fed. it’s eddie’s favorite part of the day because he gets to hold her and he thinks she’s getting used to it because she stops trying to squirm out of his arms and doesn’t bite him as often. (there's a photo on the fridge of eddie covered in ban-aids and holding her in one arm, giving the camera a thumbs up with the other, a giant grin on his face. 'progress!' is written on the bottom.)

he calls in a favor to nancy and asks if her mom has any of holly’s baby clothes and she is rightfully curious.

“it’s for a raccoon.”

“….right.”

he dresses her up and thankfully, nancy brings diapers (he doesn’t ask how awkward that particular shopping trip was) because the baby has started treating the trailer like her bathroom and wayne’s already threatened to throw her back out into the woods if he has to clean up another mess. so she walks around the place in her little onesie and diaper like the little trailer park princess she is and everyone knows who she belongs to. max has already claimed the spot for cool aunt.

eddie has to stop himself from buying a secondhand stroller.

unfortunately, he's spent the last couple weeks so caught up in the thrill of being a single parent, he forgets that he’s not actually single at all.

steve pulls into the trailer park on a cold, cloudy day and before he can even get a foot out the car, he’s greeted by a raccoon wearing a pastel pink onesie with white lace frills that’s clearly meant for a human baby. he blinks down at it, visibly confused, and looks around to see where it came from.

the trailer door suddenly opens and his boyfriend is yelling with all the energy of an exasperated parent, hands on his hips and a dish rag thrown over one shoulder, a baby bottle in one hand,

“jezebel munson, you get your furry lil hind end back inside this trailer right now!”

as if the raccoon understood, it toddles toward the porch steps and eddie moves aside to let it pass, pointing inside. “straight to the couch, little missy!”

steve slowly follows behind her and stops at the last step, watching as the animal climbs a jerry-rigged set of steps next to the couch.

“eddie. what the hell.”

eddie turns to grin down at him, hands still on his hips. "we're parents now, stevie! meet your daughter, jezebel.”

steve can only sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose before accepting his fate and going inside for father daughter bonding time.

🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee

#cj talks #steddie #steddie ficlet #jezebel munson #cj writes

[thegoblinboy]

Steve Harrington can never tell when a compliment is a actual compliment or when it’s one to manipulate him. You would think after countless times of being morphed into different shapes, as if he was clay by countless people he would know when a compliment was truly a compliment. That’s why he hates hearing nice things said about him, he feels as if there is a hidden meaning. That’s why when Nancy calls him “bullshit” he accepts it and doesn’t get bothered by it. But when Robin tells him that he is the greatest human she has ever met. He doesn’t believe it. This has been something engraved into his soul that he can’t get rid of. It’s apart of him and it makes him ache. The marks are carved into his ribs, printed on his skin, and burnt a hole in his heart.

It of course started with his father. Who would smile tightly and tell him that he did a good job, a great job even. Before he would go on a rant about how he could do better. This is what creates his need to be perfect. His mother used to give him compliments. Genuine ones. But when he out grew the adorable baby phase the compliments started to shift to something else. Examples being, “oh that shirt looks amazing, but don’t you think that new sweater I got you would be better?”

Then there were the teachers and the coaches. They of course would compliment him, but because his parents were donors to the school they never truly meant them without hidden meaning. Hoping that if they sucked up just a little more his parents would give a little more money. From the teachers it went to his “closest” friends. Complimenting him and cheering him on no matter what, wanting to be cool and be in the it crowd. To this day Steve still flinches at the thought of being worshiped. Which was one of the reasons why he never lets Dustin brag about him being a hero when he’s around. Of course Dustin still does, and when Eddie tells him he doesn’t feel pride he feels guilt. Of what he doesn’t know.

Then there was Billy. A confusing one. “Pretty Boy” he wasn’t sure what the other intended by it but it was definitely not a good undertone. As if he was taunting him about it, there was a hidden meaning to those two words. That Steve can’t explain unless you were there to hear it. Summary of the whole situation? Steve cant handle receiving compliments. No matter what they are. At some point he plans on working on that but for now he was more then content being who he was and what he’s in the process of shaping himself as. Sanding down the dried clay that his father purposely created to be sharp. Working his way slowly to his heart that was constantly on his sleeve.

Which is why he’s so confused when Eddie Munson comes along. The guy doesn’t give normal compliments ever. They are the wackiest things he’s ever heard, but are the only ones that don’t make him flinch. Make him feel fake. Being called Pretty, smart, anything in those categories hurt him. The unoriginality of them all made the compliments seem less sincere he realizes. Eddies are all original and thought out before he speaks. Every single one makes Steve smile softly and trust him more.

Eddie has called him a soft little sheep in the most endearing ways, has called him a adorable goblin with his nose scrunched up with the hugest smile on his face. It’s gotten to the point where more like when Steve gets comfortable hearing compliments from the other they are more hilarious then anything. “Anyone tell you that you’re gorgeous tonight?” Makes Steve laugh in Eddie’s face when they go out on their first date. Eddie looks confused and doesn’t understand. Steve thinks he’s joking, and teases him about not calling him a goblin. From then on the basic compliments are a hidden joke between the two. The real ones are when Eddie wakes up first thing in the morning and Steve tells him he looks like a raccoons ass… with endearment of course.

Steve does grow used to normal compliments, getting used to the fact that not everyone is trying to use him now. But the ones that really make him happy are the ones that most people would think were rude and mean. Eddie and Steve call each other dumbasses and motherfuckers in terms of endearment. Something that seems to be wild to some. Some say it’s a toxic relationship.

But to Eddie and Steve? It’s perfect and them. They know each other like the back of their hands, communicate when somethings wrong. They are so healthy in fact that they could do something considered toxic and it wouldn’t even have any negative effects on each other. They know that the words have positive meanings behind them.

When they do get in a fight They don’t curse each other out, they just aggressively tell the other they love each other and they will see each other later that night. Or just aggressively compliment each other until one of them breaks and gives in.

They both know how fighting can end a relationship, that was Eddie’s fear. But like Steve he grew out of it once he realized, just like compliments fights can have a positive impact as well

#Steddie #steddie headcanon #Eddie munson #Steve harrington #stranger things #steve x eddie #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #Steve doesn’t know how to take a compliment #the boys are traumitized

[jimblejamblewritings]

romeo and...cullen? | part 2.

Summary: Y/N Cullen, youngest in both actual age and last to be turned in the Cullen clan. Her world is turned upside down when Bella Swan enters her family’s life, because Bella doesn’t bring just herself but drags some of her friends into the Cullen’s life as well.

Warnings for the Series: light violence, light angst, light smut

Pairing: Jacob Black x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

“You seem nothing like your brother,” Bella said as you waited in line for popcorn.

“Hmm?”

“You’re…how do I put this… nicer.”

“Right, I heard what happened in biology. Don’t mind my brother, he’s emotional. Seriously, mood swings out the wazoo with that one sometimes. You probably caught him at an off time. He’ll be back soon and you can say something then.”

You both reached for the bucket of popcorn at the same time, Bella’s hand pulled back quickly.

“You’re freezing.”

Crap, you thought.

“Um yeah, I have really poor circulation,” you said the first lie that came to mind.

“You should probably get that checked out.”

“My dad’s a doctor, if he says I’m not dead then it’s nothing to worry over.”

Bella didn’t say anything else. She just grabbed the popcorn and you walked into the theater.

Edward grabbed the cup of blood from your hand and took a sip.

“Eww, what is this?”

“Raccoon, and next time ask before you just take my food,” you said grabbing my cup back.

“I thought you didn’t even like blood, you and your people food.”

“You know I still need it to function a bit. Speaking of people food, well, people… you could try to act human you know. You should apologize to Bella on Monday. I mean I know you like to reject every girl at school but this time was mean.”

“You don’t get it.”

“Enlighten me.”

“La Tua…”

“Cantante,” you finished for him, “That’s who mom was talking about? You’re in love with Isabella Swan?!”

Edward sighed and rested his arms on the kitchen island. “In love and completely overwhelmed by her very scent.”

“Well, I can’t be of much advice but whatever you do Ed, don’t kill her. I kinda like this little town and I’d like to stay as long as possible. Murdering the chief’s daughter is definitely a one way ticket to moving.”

“Thank you, (Y/F/N).”

“Love you too, man.”

Bella and you walked towards her truck. You had gotten a ride with her that morning. Regardless of however Edward felt towards Bella, she wasn’t that bad to you. You could even say you had become somewhat friends. You leaned against the truck as she fished through her bag for her car keys.

“You’re still staying for dinner? Your folks are cool with it?”

“Yeah, Carlisle and Esme are pretty chill parents. We have a good amount of free reign.”

You looked over to where your siblings were standing by their cars watching you and Bella and not just talking like every other student probably thought they were. They all seemed to watch with vague interest aside from Rosalie and Edward. You couldn’t read Edward’s face but Rosalie’s was pretty obvious. If it was any other student she probably wouldn’t care; but, you being friends with your brother’s bloodsinger rubbed her all sorts of the wrong way. She had a bad feeling about danger coming to your family.

Tell Rose, even though she’s a vamp if she keeps scowling she’ll manage to get wrinkles, you thought, purposely directing it towards Edward.

He chuckled and shook his head. Before you could think of anything else, you heard the screeching of tires against the icy parking lot. Everything moved in slow motion. You saw Tyler’s van barreling towards Bella’s truck and your siblings go wide-eyed.

You couldn’t move. The screeching sounded so familiar. You weren’t standing in the school parking lot anymore. You were in a flipped over car, blood everywhere. This wasn’t real but you still couldn’t bring myself to do anything to snap out of the vision. The sound of tires still ringing in your ear.

You watched in horror as Edward raced over to where you were standing. Even as he stopped Tyler’s van and crouched over Bella, you were frozen. It wasn’t until Edward pulled on your wrist that you met his eyes and snapped out of it. Your brother quickly fled the scene and you bent down along with several others to check that Bella wasn’t injured.

No one paid attention to Rosalie, Edward, Carlisle, and you as you guys argued in the small hallway of the hospital. Your dad and sister weren’t exactly keen on Edward racing in to save the day.

“I wouldn’t have had to run if (Y/N) moved.”

“Just because you gave away our secret doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole to me Ed. I’ll see you guys back at the house, let me know when you’ve figured out what we’re telling Bella.”

You tried to walk out as calmly as you could. Edward could really be a douche sometimes, it’s not like he didn’t know why you froze up. He’s seen it in your thoughts a thousand times.

You raced to the school, careful to make sure no one saw, in order to grab Bella’s truck and drop it back off at her house. The old truck was honestly a piece of junk. You don’t care how much Bella liked it, this thing moved so slow. Charlie’s cruiser wasn’t in sight when you pulled up; but another car was. You took the keys out of the truck’s ignition and used the house key to let yourself in.

“Is Bella okay, Charlie?” A man’s voice rang out.

“It’s not Charlie, I’m just here to drop off Bella’s keys!”

“Hmm?”

You placed the keys in the kitchen and then walked over to the living room to show myself. Upon meeting the eyes of Billy Black, you regretted not having just left without saying anything.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Jacob said, sitting next to his dad on the couch.

“Hi, Jacob. Hello, Mr. Black. What are you guys doing here?”

“Watching the game with Charlie before he got called by the hospital. Told us to stay and he’ll be right back.”

“Oh well I was, um, just saying I was here to drop off Bella’s car and her keys. She’s fine. The van did more damage to the truck than anything else. I’ll just be going now, can you tell Bella her keys are on the table.”

“If you dropped off her truck do you need a ride home?” Jacob stood up from the couch.

“Oh, um I don’t know…”

“Jacob, the girl’s fine.” Billy’s eyes never left you.

“It’s fine, dad. I’ll be back in a minute. You ready, (Y/N)?”

Jacob walked past you and his dad and towards the front door. You quickly shuffled past Billy mumbling a ‘nice to meet you’ and walked with Jacob towards his car.

“Did you really just change the station from Rock ‘N Roll Classics for who even is this?” Jake asked as you turned the dial on the radio. You were halfway through the drive.

“I like rock it’s just Aerosmith’s not really my thing. Don’t tell me you’re a genre purist.”

“I’m not a genre purist. I like pop, it’s just Madonna…I don’t know.”

“So you admit you know who this is!” You laughed as Jacob rolled his eyes.

“Okay, yes I know Madonna. Guilty as charged.”

“I knew it,” you said with a satisfied grin. “Pull off here.”

“This is the woods?”

“Yeah, just right here. It’s a road, I can just walk the rest of the way.”

“I’m not letting you walk the woods alone when we’re already this close.”

There was no point in arguing with Jacob. He didn’t know what was really going on in the world around him; and, there was no rational reason you could give for why he shouldn’t drive you all the way home without revealing everything. You just sat back and continued to point him in the direction of the house.

“Woah, nice place,” He said as he pulled up.

“Yeah, Esme really has a thing for design. Thanks for dropping me off Jacob.” You unfastened my seatbelt and got out.

“Eh, it was nothing really.” Jacob looked like he was going to say something else when you could feel Emmett and Jasper come up behind you.

“He was just dropping me back home. I was riding with Bella this morning, remember.”

You knew they could smell the wet dog all throughout the car, evidence of Billy and potentially Jacob’s true nature.

“Thanks again, Jacob.”

He nodded. “Hey, um. I was wondering if you weren’t too busy maybe we could do something next week?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Jasper’s Texan accent slipped out a little.

“Oh whatever, Jas. Here.” you handed Jacob your phone so he could put in his number. “Just text me and we’ll figure something out.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll catch you around. Better get back to my old man. See you later (Y/N).”

You waved as he drove away. Ignoring the slight growls from your brothers, you walked into the house.

“Really, (Y/N)? First the human girl and now a werewolf boy.”

“Potential werewolf boy… well, more shifter if you think about it.”

“Not the point.”

(Part 3)...

#jacob black x reader #twilight fic

[witchofthesouls]

I get bit often by weird AUs, so NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA (you’re now) BATMOBILE!

… With the deaged Drift, Rodimus, and Megatron scenario.

You had thought you’d seen everything chaotic and absolutely batshit crazy. You’re on a giant spaceship with a crew of giant metal aliens searching for their version of the King Arthur’s Round Table, you had been given a major size increase that would either seen you worshiped or demonized in Earth’s ancient eras, two badass alien geniuses built you a sci-fi suit that would made all the space nerds weep and be the greatest wet dream/most nightmare fuel by Earth's militaries, and you’re the current caretaker of a sort-of-maybe prophet of a slumbering god who’s impulsive frat-boy doing his Best, a genocidal warlord with a heel-turn, and an ass-kicking spiritual guru with a bloody history of a hitman… that all deaged to metal toddlers.

You absolutely, for-sure, had cursed yourself with famous last words and some terrible spirit or god took it upon themselves to amp it up to another level.

Actually you can blame Rung since you, him, and the kids decided to visit a local temple when docked on a mechanical-friendly planet to refuel. It warms your heart that Megatron no longer is frightened by the open sky and Drift can tolerate people milling around them. Watching the kids interact with the icons of the triad deities of warcraft, justice, and hearth made you wish that you could have more time when you and Rung had a discussion on the mythos with a priestess as well as the Uncomfortable Truth of a human, no matter the size, lifespan is a hiccup compared to a Cybertronian..

Realistically, you know you’re on time-limit. All things die eventually, but Cybertronians have a better warranty than the standard human, even a giant one.

You went to bed in your pajamas, kissing the boys good night as they climbed onto the mattress, freshly cleaned and ready for cuddles before nodding off. Drift drooling on his favorite chewtoy in his corner, Roddy wiggled his way to his way to your side with Megs on the opposite.

You wake up, thinking that Megatron had placed your suit’s visor back on your face, but no, it’s your own, very improved vision. You understood that when you turn to look at the kids and immediately see text scroll across your zooming sight, especially as the HUD cheerily pings about Drift’s appointment in the medbay and if you would like to confirm it now.

You’re screaming. The kids are screaming. Drift bolts in a red and white streak for his hardest-to-reach hidey hole. Megatron and Rodimus pushed themselves deep into the closet, knocking down boxes, and scattering your shoes, their toys, and extra office supplies.

In your blind panic, your new vents close off and causes to overheat and crash into stasis in your rushed attempt to comm Ratchet with the communicator on the sidetable..

You wake up in the medbay. Again. Since Ratchet had actually barged his way into your rooms, breaking the door, when he could only hear muffled crying and terrified chirps and squeaks.

Megatron and Rodimus went with the medic with very little prompting, too frightened and subdued at another upheaval.

Ambulon had to fish out Drift with protective gear on his servos and forearm. Even with his own thick plating, the little racecar is still very much like a feral raccoon. Drift can and will attack mecha’s vulnerable parts and knows how to exactly bite down into hidden seams.

Of course, you also freak out because you can’t move since the immobilization assistance was used since they don’t know Mecha-You, only Human-You, and your human self is gone.

This lead to many, many tears, mainly you and quite a few from the kids, and soooo many questions. (Ratchet is too damn tired for these kinds of miracles. Like the fresh Pit is this? This was supposed to be his retirement send-off!)

If you thought that your giant form was big, then you’re goddamn titan now. It’s a bizarre feeling to tilt your head down when you’re speaking to Ratchet now as well as the majority of the Lost Light. With the strength to match as well.

Not only you can easily pick up the kids, all of them, in just one arm, you can easily heft up the mini-bots and throw them. You can fireman carry Ambulon now. Ambulon. As in the mech whose alt-mode is a fucking solid leg of pure metal and little else to support a combat gestalt of equally solid limbs.

It’s a learning curve on many levels. You can’t squeeze or shimmy your way across a horde of mecha, you don’t have hair anymore so it’s off-putting whenever you try to brush it out of the way and it’s none existent, EM fields are a mix of control and instinctiveness, it’s hard for you to level it “appropriately” when the most you can do is go-all-out (which disgruntles a lot of mechs but delights Tailgate) or tamp it completely down (which also disgruntles mechs).

All the kids can now ride on your new frame. Usually Roddy and Drift claims your shoulders while Megatron latches to your back.

One major upside is that the new body comes with a supercomputer brain. Not only your own mind stores all of your music library and podcasts, but you can literally download language primers, cheat-sheets, and instructions into said brain. The downside: Raging headaches from unifying your current life experience with the immediate access of acquired knowledge by a download chip.

It forces you to turn off all the lights, dull your auditory senses, and do a impromptu nap-time with the kids, but the tradeoff is never to be absolutely bamboozled by complicated, multi-paged instruction manuals and picking up dialects ridiculous fast, even when muddling through it.

Language is a different thing. While you can breeze through the Cybertronian scripts (You're not surprised that even advance aliens have the same ridiculous tropes in their steamy romance books. The virginal priest/naive soldier with a horn-dog Prime/High Guardian is really popular And the old classic barbarian/city-dweller trope..) 

You already knew that Roddy is an absolute chatterbox, but it still takes you back that the squeaks and shrill notes are real words. Sometimes it’s easier to puzzle out what’s he’s saying with the mash of subglyphs he attached, sometimes you’re still very, very lost. Unfortunately, you don’t have a handy primer for the Nylon dialect, but it seems like Rodimus had a few caretakers from other cities: Iacon, Tarn, and Kalis.

Megatron doesn’t really speak. At least not with full words. The noises he makes are akin to emotionally-charged babble. Ratchet said he’ll expand his vocabulary eventually.

Drift is very basic. Monosyllabic words with bursts of sharp emphasis. Sometimes his hisses are just hisses.

You treat your armor as if it's clothes. You take off the layers of plating inside the comfort of your habsuite. And it’s a lot of plating. Heavy as well due to its density. Apparently, it’s not even the maximum weight of your frame-schematics, so you could load yourself up with all the pretty gadgets you want. In fact- (Brainstorm had to duck, cover, and run at that point since Ratchet threw quite a few wrenches to get the mad scientist out.)

Dark. Everything about your new body is absolutely dark. From helm to pedes to fingertips. Various shades of black. The only things that are visibly bright is your biolights and your newfound optics: white.

Even without the armature, you’re buff. Built like a brick shithouse, is what you are now.

You have no idea where the hell are the weapons systems, especially when you stare at all of the plating. You definitely one or several. And some sort of flight system since Skids had spooked you so bad that you launched yourself to the ceiling to find out that you also have some powerful magnets as well.

Maybe it’s because you can see the shape of your face in the mirror: the familiar smile, the curves of your lips and nose, the outline of your optics. It’s still you.

You also get taught that care and maintenance for adult frames are different from bitlets. Every now and then, adults should strip off their plating for a deep clean and a protoform check. Bitties, with their frames still developing, aren’t able to “take off” their armor since its securely attached to their protoform. It’s removable when they reach the mechling stage (adolescence).

There’s no privacy with your barnacle of a sunflower-miner. But he’s always happy to hop into the shower. Whereas the racecars would splash and roll around on the wet floor, you couldn’t figure out why Megatron would try to drag your clothes into the water. Seeing him happily wiping down one of the chest plates with a cleaning rag, it makes more sense now…

#transformers #transformers idw #megatron #drift #Rodimus Prime #rodimus #reader insert #ratchet #ambulon #deaged #HUMANFORMERS #humans into cybertronians #bitlets #sparklings #tf headcanons #cybertronian biology #Batmobile!Liaison #maccadam #My writing #IDW #MTMTE #congrats you're stuck with them now

[shipskicksandgiggles]

dialogue prompts

for those who don't know, my life is bonkers and I cope by making prompt lists out of the more bizarre things I say/people say to me/I hear by being in proximity of equally weird people. send a number with a character/ship/dynamic of your choosing and I'll do what I can

“So I may have accidentally recruited your ex to help me move.” “I’m so sorry, was he awful?”

“How’s living next to a construction site?” “I prefer the sound of people playing pool.” “That bad, huh?”

“You’re the main character!” “Stop saying I’m the main character, I have been the snarky, comic relief my whole life and I’m not stopping now.”

“I can’t quit my job, I can’t quit my job-” “What happened?” “Some guy wanted to talk to me about his prostate.” “Don’t you work at a library?”

“So because I’m me, I made a spreadsheet about it.” “You’re incredible.”

“You signed me up for a job interview?” “Yeah.”

“You’re not going to believe what he said.” “I find that hard to believe, try me.”

“I accidentally gave you so many traits.” “Hey, I had autism first.”

“I let you kiss me one time-” “It has been more than one time.”

“Were you here for the male model thing?” “No?”

“Have fun!” “Kill me.” “Or just don’t kill anyone I guess.”

“If you call Latin a dead language one more time I’m going to throw myself across this desk at you.”

“I’m going to ask you a question and you’re going to feel attacked.” “Fine.” “Why does it have to be that way?”

“I just took a quiz for fun and accidentally did geometry by hand.” “Nerd.”

“I’d wear shorts.” “It’s snowing.”

“You have a very expressive face.” “I don’t like that you noticed that.”

“When do you leave?” “In like an hour, why?” “Can you build things?” “Yes, but I repeat, why?”

“So here I am, sitting and talking about amputations-” “I have absolutely no idea where this is going, but I love it.”

“Did the raccoon get into the attic again?”

“It’s 8:30 in the morning on a Saturday, something better actually be on fire.” 

“Is a potato a vegetable?” 

“Everything you do is calculated.” “You make me sound like a robot.”

“I’m so sorry, I’m going to be late.” “Everything okay?” “Yeah, no, I’m fine, I just may have broken my foot and I need to go to urgent care.” “That is… the opposite of fine.”

“Don’t question why I know how to pop the screen out of a window.” “Our fucking door won’t open, as long as we can get outside, I don’t care.”

“So Thursday was a bad day for you then?”

“You used to be buff.” “I thought you were going to say something entirely different, but I guess we’re going this way then.”

“How are you not freaking out right now?” “I’ve been living with this for months now dude, this is just entertainment for me.”

“I was elected most responsible at summer camp when I was five.” “Some things never change.”

“I had a chemistry teacher in high school who could write with both hands at the same time. She needed an exorcism.”

“The age of the child you hit with your car determines the number of points you get.”

“How’d the meeting go?” “I think I came out as gay to the entire board.” “What the fuck.”

“This is probably the only dick pic I’ll ever get and that’s okay.”

“Oh my god, I out-autismed the whole group chat.”

“No more kisses until you stop apologizing for being human.” “That’s not fair, you know that’ll work on me.”

“I can feel my bones.” “That’s not ideal”

“You dumb bitch.” “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Good news, you've just unlocked my niche special interest that I can and will talk for at least ten minutes straight about. Are you ready to learn?”

“You know what I’m talking about, you do not have the moral high ground.”

“I’m going to be so real with you, I literally hate this. Like this sucks.”

“I don’t think you understand that this is the greatest news I’ve ever been given. Like genuinely, this is the happiest I’ve been in weeks.”

“Good to know you would have died very early in the Middle Ages.”

“Is that a mosquito bite? Dude, it’s March.”

“You know you’re going to have a good day when the maintenance guy says ‘well that’s different’.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, the last time I cried I think it was December.” “It’s April?” “Hey, the time before that it was July, so.”

“No wait, turn up the music. Never mind, I thought it was the Law and Order theme.” “Do you think I have the Law and Order theme on a CD in my car?”

“Please don’t assault my boyfriend.” 

“Would you like a new best friend? Because I think I found your new best friend.”

“Guess who had a baby.” “No.” 

“What is the purpose of nipple rings?” “Decoration.” “Like a Christmas tree!”

“I honestly don’t know how to be a person anymore. Please don’t contact me for 3-5 business days while I sort that out.”

#ellis writes #prompts #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #send asks #if I can remember the context for half of these it will be a miracle

[alexmercer2424]

Howdy! Could I request some friendship headcanons with pyramid head and nemesis? Like, this small skittish human just wandering around silent hill/raccoon city and these monsters of men are just like, “You’re my friend now c:”. Reader is just startled/confused as to what’s happening, but at least they got a new body guard!

Nemesis & Pyramid Head w/ a Smol Friend

Nemesis

You weren’t STARS and you weren’t infected so he didn’t bother with killing you

Why you kept following him, he didn’t exactly know

At first he ignored it, continued on with his duties to eliminate his targets, make sure nothing got in his way

(Which you weren’t, you usually stayed behind him or to his side, he never felt that got in the way of his work)

It wasn’t until you got in trouble by one of the infected did he react

For some odd reason he saved you, which surprised the both of you no doubt

But from then on he made sure to keep a closer eye on you

Usually when things got too dangerous you’d run and hide some place, some place he used to not know since he didn’t care

But now he may offer aid in helping you hide in a secure location

Or depending on what the danger is, may put you on his shoulder/back to walk through

When there isn’t any issue, the streets long abandoned by now by those alive and the dead wandering wherever to amass

Nemesis tends to get a little more confused on what to do with you

Sometimes you wander and he just waits, has no idea what you’re doing but he assumes it’s for your own survival

Sometimes you don’t go far and he ends up staring at you because he assumes you need to do something

He’s not exactly meant as something to take care of another living being he’s the opposite so he doesn’t exactly know how to provide you with what even if you expressed it

If you ever need his help with things like moving barricades, breaking down doors, opening locked storages he can help

But with the whole eating thing an apple and a rat are the same thing to him, both are biodegradable and safe for consumption… to a degree…

He watches you drink water but sometimes fails to understand the water gathered in locations from rain isn’t always the safest be it infected with blood or just dirty from infrastructure

So when you run off to get those things for yourself since he’s not the greatest at it

Nemesis does enjoy watching you

Thinks you skittering about is entertaining, so careful, so cautious

It’s like having a small pet

Just one he can’t accidentally kill unless you somehow get under his feet

Pyramid Head

He had no interest in you

He was busy with other things, keeping order in Silent Hill, to pass judgement

And you had nothing for him to judge

You weren’t part of the cult church, ostracizing the other locals just for not being a part of their cult

You were someone meant to come here to face their past selves, face the decisions they made and the results of it

Really, he had no idea why you were here or how you ended up here (he doesn’t understand the concept of lost tourists lol)

You stayed away from him for a long while, tho he did notice you especially when night came and he did his routes

Watched you panic as you tried to hide from all the other monsters of Silent Hill

And for the longest time that wasn’t his problem

Until one day, if you reminded him of Alessa, that girl bullied by the terrible people of this town

Or maybe you reminded him of Vatiel, his leader and who he responds to

Whatever it was, one night as you scattered, he slowly made his way after you

He wasn’t trying to be menacing, just walking, but you still ran at first

But you got cornered and he caught up, watching as you screamed and ran back towards him from the monsters actually looking to harm you

You never did get far tho as he caught you instead, carrying you awkwardly by the waist under his arm as he worked to swing his knife with one arm

When your threat was gone he had grabbed you by the shirt, lifting you in front of his face for him to finally observe you closely

Without a word or threatening body language, he sat you back on the ground and petted your head

From then on you followed him and he went back to ignoring your presence

The only time he acknowledged you was if you were in danger or if you tried to wander too far

No building was to be entered without him and you weren’t allowed to go ahead of him and round corners

You may be new to Silent Hill but he’s not

And the dangers that linger in the shadows can be more dangerous than himself, especially if there’s many

So tho he may ignore you for the most part, he has to admit it’s nice having you around

Something less murderous and something much less sinful

#resident evil 2 #resident evil #resident evil nemesis #silent hill #silent hill pyramid head #pyramid head imagine #nemesis imagine #pyramid head headcanons #nemesis headcanons #resident evil imagine #resident evil headcanons #silent hill imagine #silent hill headcanons

[shyinsunlight]

doomed surf camp au (bittersweet crack with surf coach!Tom)

He walks into the shared kitchen, his wetsuit dripping all over the floor. The espresso machine greets him with a friendly hiss, the only form of small talk he tolerates now.

He’s halfway through making his perfectly calibrated triple-shot espresso when Draco barges in and glares at the coffee machine as though it had personally offended him.

“Do you have almond milk? I’d like a latte.”

Tom’s eyebrows rise to his perfect hairline. “Haven’t trained the cow out back on the almond variety yet.”

Draco is soon followed by Regulus, who’s already looking exhausted, and Harry, whose wet hair seems to defy gravity. “Hey, any of that coffee left?”

Draco sniffs. “They don’t have almond milk. This place is basically a third-world country.”

“Oh, don’t cry, Costa Rica,” Harry groans.

Tom takes a sip of his black, unsweetened, almond milkless coffee, already regretting every life choice that led him to this moment, and just leaves.

Regulus catches up to him just as he’s about to head out of the camp’s main building, en route somewhere far away.

“Wait, wait. Where are you going?”

“Away.”

“But we have a critique session to get to.”

Tom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You mean a session where I point out what they’re doing wrong and they ignore me while thinking they know better?”

“Come on,” Regulus pleads, “these kids really look up to you. And you might even actually enjoy watching the footage.”

Tom looks sceptical.

“Sharks. It includes sharks.”

Tom’s eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”

The footage from the day’s session is already queued up on the screen. Tom hits play, and as expected, it’s a mixed bag of pain and enthusiasm. However, Tom can’t ignore one thing.

“Could be worse, Harry,” he nods. “But Costa Rica was right. That board of yours might be eligible for welfare benefits soon.”

Harry shrugs. “It’s got character.”

“So does a raccoon rummaging through garbage, but you don’t see me surfing on one. Come with me.”

Draco grins. “Potter’s gonna be fed to the fish.”

“Oh, shut up,” Tom retorts, then he looks at Regulus. “You’ve got this here?”

Regulus rolls his eyes but nods. “Go play fairy godmother.”

Tom leads Harry down the hallway of the small building and stops in front of a door that is marked with a 'do not enter' sign.

It’s part office, part history classroom. Tom looks at the posters of the annual international championships, printed with fonts that grew progressively more modern as the years ticked by. His eyes linger on one year, then the next, and the next; his own name and face looking back at him. Then his eyes hit a gap, a jarring blank space where his face should continue to be, and he turns away.

“Welcome to the graveyard,” he says dryly. “Don’t touch anything, it might disintegrate.”

Harry nods, his eyes fixed on the rack of surfboards in the corner, awed by the collection. “Are these yours? You’ve kept them all?”

Tom walks over to the rack and selects a board. He hands it over to Harry. He takes it, surprised.

“This was one of yours, too?”

“One of my firsts,” Tom admits. “It’s seen better days, but haven’t we all.”

Harry grins, touched. “I’ll take good care of it, I promise.”

“You better.” Tom almost feels a flicker of human emotion he can’t quite name, but his buzzing phone interrupts. It’s a message from Regulus. 

Please come back.

“Everything's okay?” Harry asks, still hugging the board.

“Splendid,” Tom says, pocketing his phone without replying to the text. “Regulus needs some help.”

“Will you help him out?”

Tom considers. “Nah. Builds character.”

#tomarry #no i’m not sorry #permanent tenant of my wip folder

[transmasc-wizard]

crawls in

hi i have some RP excerpts to offer. this is going to be a long ask and i apologize. i'll talk about other ones in another ask. also apologies for the amount of asks i'm sending ASDFJKL; <3

first, from the Spencer And Gerry interaction (for context, gerry said the phrase, "are you out of your fucking mind!?" to spencer):

Unfortunately, before he can abscond with the thick tome tucked securely into his bag, he’s stopped by a stranger, a tall man (taller than Spencer, even) with long, poorly dyed black hair and a slightly frantic expression in his bright blue eyes.

The man cuts right to the chase, clearly determined not to let Spencer leave with the book, though he won’t explain exactly why. Normally, Spencer wouldn’t hesitate to use violence to get out of a situation like this, but he’s almost too confused to do so right now. Sure, the book is important enough that his new client wants it, but why the fuck would some random goth give a shit?

Finally, the man seems to lose his patience and snaps at him, and Spencer narrows his eyes back at him.

“Maybe I am,” he says, “but what the fuck does it matter to you? It’s a fucking book, dipshit. Why are you so freaked out?”

from the Jon And Antonio Interaction:

Before he can finish his sentence, though, the stranger has produced a tape recorder. It’s then that Tony realizes that, yes, that must be where the whirring had been coming from. He curses under his breath and takes a step back. Motherfucker, has he been recording this whole conversation? Sure, Tony hasn’t said anything incriminating here, but he knows he’s a dead man walking at the best of times, and if his old bosses get any hint that he’s still alive, he’ll be in some deep fucking shit.

The man’s words register next, and Tony glares at him, unable to keep the frightened anger off of his face.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” he snaps. “The fuck are you recording me for, man?” He doesn’t have a gun on him right now, but he should still be able to fight his way out of this and make sure that recording doesn’t leave this gas station.

from the Rosa And Agnes Interaction:

She accepts the ten with a smile and collects some bills from the register to give the woman her change. As she does, she hums thoughtfully as well. “It should be!” she says. “It’s a pretty small creek, kinda easy to miss, but it runs over by the elementary school!” With that, Rosa hands over the change. “Thank you! I hope you have a nice day, ma’am!”

It’s then that the woman’s eyes snap up to look at Rosa, a considering expression on her face. Rosa is more than a little surprised, but she smiles back easily enough. When the woman asks for clarification, Rosa relaxes, though her response is still a little hesitant.

“Well,” she says, “we’re not really in bear country, I don’t think, but we have had some problems with mountain lions in the past.” She chuckles. “Actually, the raccoons around the gas station are some of the most vicious animals I’ve seen!”

wow this is long. anyway ok Spencer And Simon now (for context Simon tried to buy Spencer a drink, and Spencer said Fuck Off):

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Spencer says in a clipped tone. He looks the man over, as he notices there’s something a little… off about him, in a way that Spencer doesn’t quite know how to explain. Whatever it is, though, it has him on guard.

You can’t stab him, Spencer tells himself. Not yet. No matter how much you want to.

“Why don’t you find someone a little closer to your age, grandpa?” he adds. “I’m not interested in whatever you’re offering here.”

1:

gerry is never going to live down his shitty shitty dye job <3

also i really want spencer to get his ass kicked. i already did before but now i want it More

2:

i mean. tbf. if i found out some unsettling dude had been recording our conversation on tape i would not be super chill about it either

3:

agnes!!!!!!!!!!!!! lets go agnes!!!!!!!!!!!! having normal human conversations!!!!!!!!!

4:

ksdjfkfksdh the I Want To Stab Him urge spencer gets is so funny. what do u have against void grandpa bro

#asks #multi!!

[sammeth]

forest animal au! G.E.

A/N: first of all, I’m thinking that this is more of a half animal/half human type thing. maybe 25/75 (75 being human) with the 25 being cute big floppy ears, tail, fangs, claws, mannerisms, whatever else you want :) second of all, I’ve said this before but I despise using name, y/n, your name, etc. so he’s gonna be referring to the reader as “fox” or “red” because they’re a red fox and he’s a loud-mouthed raccoon. I’m not very educated when it comes to foxes, but I’m gonna do my best with it lol. this is just for fun! :) if you have the wattpad extension, go ahead and change “fox” and “red” to a playful nickname or your name.

warnings: some language, insults, various forest animals, mostly just fluff

word count: 3.4k

🦇 spacer (balls) 🦇

Humming just as the wind picks up, Fox swishes their tail back and forth against the flowing air to really feel the cool fall breeze blow against their fur. There’s a smile on their face, they’re in a decent mood this morning. It’s a fine autumn day, the berry bush beside their den is still providing delicious red berries as if it were still spring. It usually starts shriveling up right at the edge of winter, around November or December. It’s only the middle of September, thank goodness. When November rolls around, Fox will have to resort to their second favorite food source: the lake across from Gray’s drey. Gray is an opossum friend, Fox has been meaning to check up on him, actually, he’s been awfully quiet lately. Ever since Lily moved down to the pond on the other side of the forest, Gray has kept to himself.

Continuing to pick berries, Fox sets them gently on the cloth inside of their basket. The red tint of the usually white cloth is because they constantly use the cloth to pick strawberries from their bush. In other words, it’s stained a light pink color because it’s very well-loved. Fox has been using the same little cloth since they moved to this side of the forest. They’ve lived here for almost a full year now. In human time, that’s the equivalent of about ten years. Fox is twenty moon cycles old (twenty years in human time!) and just now really starting their life. They’ve mostly settled down, but they have no mate and no real plans for the future. They like it this way. No rules, no responsibilities outside of taking care of their den, and they get to make their own schedule. They never really wanted pups, so it works out in the end. Pups are a big responsibility, that’s something that Fox doesn’t think they were destined to do. Instead, they’re much happier spending their days picking berries and having sweet conversations with their forest friends. This is a happy and fulfilling life.

Everything is going wonderfully (for the first hour, anyway), they’ve got enough strawberries to last them through the end of the week now. The morning sun is grazing beautifully against their soft fur. The feeling of the forest floor against the bare skin of their lower paws makes them dig their claws into the soil to try and feel it farther. They close their eyes, taking a deep breath in and holding it for a moment. They’re really enjoying how the morning is going so far. They couldn’t be happier here. In fact, they’re in such a good mood that they might just make today the day that they check on Gray. He really does need company. With Lily gone, Fox can’t imagine just how lonesome it’s getting inside of his drey. The absence of Lily is–

Gasping, Fox’s eyes shoot open as they feel the handle of their basket getting snatched from their paws. They look around furiously, trying to spot the cause of the sudden change in the situation. “Hey!” Their eyes land on a raccoon. Of course, it’s a raccoon! Sneaky little creep, they’re about to get what’s coming to them. Fox tears off their sweater and leaps into action, skittering over to the raccoon on all fours. It’s not uncommon for the raccoon population to steal from other animals, but never a fox. Raccoons are known for thievery, but stealing from a fox is a death wish. Foxes are known for their speed and agility. Sure, their stamina isn’t great, but that doesn’t matter to Fox. Fox will catch the raccoon long before they run out of stamina.

A raven glances down from its tree. Fox can make the shape of Robin the raven out of the corner of their eye. They gasp for air and attempt to tell her what’s going on. It comes out in a choked gasp, though.

“The raccoon!” Gasp, claw at the ground, dash for the raccoon. “Took my breakfast!” That’s all that they need to say.

“Rude!” Robin ducks down and dives for the little animal. She flaps her dark wings and Fox pounces on the chubby raccoon. Robin grips the basket once they’re down and pulls it up into the sky, hovering for a few seconds while Fox situates the animal below them. Robin then sets the basket down a few feet away and stands beside it, looking at the raccoon with an expectant expression.

Once Fox has caught their breath, they realize that they’ve got the raccoon pinned to the ground. They don’t back off in the slightest, they just take their paws down the animal’s figure and hold them to the ground by their arms and legs instead of their hips. Fox is hovering over them, an angry look on their face as they speak.

“And just what did you think you were doing?” They ask, their eyebrows furrowing together as they attempt to make angry eye contact with the animal underneath them. The raccoon hisses and looks away, fidgeting and squirming under the pressure of Fox’s claws. They’re afraid that Fox is going to cut them up or something worse as a punishment. Fox doesn’t plan on it just yet, though.

“What I do best!” Making eye contact for real now, Fox notices that the raccoon is a male. Again, not uncommon. Fox shouldn’t be surprised, honestly. A female raccoon would know better than to steal from a fox. A male, on the other hand, Fox would have questions about that.

“Stealing my breakfast?” They ask in a loud voice full of anger. They don’t usually get like this, but this raccoon has ruined their morning. Thanks to this little man, they’re not sure if they feel safe enough to go and visit Gray anymore. “You’ve ruined my day, raccoon,” they inform him, hissing the words through their clenched jaw and teeth. “How does that make you feel?” They ask, even though they know that he’s only going to reply with something sarcastic or mean. In Fox’s eyes, all raccoons are the same. They’re selfish and rude, and their living spaces are trashy.

“Peachy,” he replies, struggling to get out from under the other animal. “Now get offa’ me, little furball.” The hairs on the back of Fox’s neck stand up and they’re seeing all shades of red now. “Your kind are kitty-pets, bet you couldn’t make it one day on your own.” They’re absolutely pissed. They were going to let him go with a warning, but to insult Fox’s kind? That’s a whole different ballgame. Even Robin knows what’s coming. She backs up with the basket of berries back in her grasp. Robin’s only ever seen Fox explode once before.

“Oh, you trashy, selfish, unkept little beast!” They insult, eyes glowing dark red. “You take my meal, insult me, and then call my kind kitty-pets? We’re basically in the same family!” That’s not true, but it sounded good at the moment. Foxes are Canidae, raccoons are Procyonidae. They’re vaguely related, but they’re definitely not the same. On the plus side, Canidae is usually the stronger out of the two. Fox has the upper hand in this situation and the raccoon has to know that much. The fear sparking in his eyes makes it obvious that he’s got an idea by now.

“Get over it, Red,” he tells them, forcing his face close to theirs so their noses are touching. His ear twitches, a sign of weakness. Fox smirks in response. “Eat or be eaten.” He seems to be angry as well, but Fox can’t imagine why. He was the one in the wrong, shouldn’t he be apologizing? Fox’s smirk falls back to a frown and they’re suddenly growling again, clenching their teeth together and letting the rumbling in their throat grow in volume. The raccoon isn’t cowering yet, but that’s Fox’s main goal: to get him to give in and get out of their side of the forest.

“I’m going to give you a chance to apologize,” Fox tells him, after at least a full minute of contemplation. The raccoon gives a confused look but doesn’t interrupt their little speech. “Apologize to me for insulting my people and me,” they demand, not giving any kind of context. The raccoon assumes that if he does this, they’ll let him go, but he’s much too spiteful for that. His pride gets to him. Apologizing would show that he’s submitted to them and that the fox is in control of this situation. He can’t show that, that would be humiliating. So, naturally, he refuses.

“I’d rather de-claw myself with my own teeth,” he says through gritted teeth. Then, plain as day, he spits on them. He reels his head back a little and spits directly in their face, watching as the result lands on their cheek. It’s a painless gesture, but it’s seriously disrespectful, and Fox takes it as offensive. It’s also disgusting, of course. Who wants someone else’s saliva on their skin? Some of it’s gotten in their hair. They just washed their hair this morning, too!

Slowly, Fox rubs their cheek against the t-shirt sleeve on their shoulder. They don’t move their hands from their hold on his shoulders, so he’s still unable to move. He’s stopped squirming now, but he’s still staring up at them with an angered look. Fox reaches up and grips a handful of the boy’s fluffy brown curls, yanking him up to his lower paws. He yelps, but they don’t care. They turn to Robin with a gentle smile, something that’s very dangerous with just how angry they are at the moment. They sigh happily and make eye contact with the raven.

“Robin,” they greet her, which makes Robin stand up straight and nod in reply. “Would you mind flying ahead and dropping my basket off at my door?” They ask, noting that the raccoon has already eaten some of their strawberries. How did he manage to eat whilst running away from a fox? He didn’t even get that far, they’re only a few hundred yards away from Fox’s property. “I have some business to attend to,” and then they start walking in the direction of their den. They’re pulling the raccoon along with them, holding him down, and dragging him by the curls behind them. The tension is high, but neither of them speaks to each other as Robin nods and picks the basket up by the handle. She flies ahead of them, disappearing into the dark trees above.

“What are you doing?” He asks, instantly going back to squirming in their grasp. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Let me go, oversized hairball!” He shouts from beneath them. Fox says nothing in return, they just keep walking with him. At this point, they’re only a few hundred feet away from Fox’s den. If you looked closely, you would have been able to see the perfectly woven basket placed right at their doorstep. They’ll have to thank Robin for being so kind later. The raccoon’s actions might have harmed the basket’s exterior, but it is still usable. Fox will bandage it up later, or make the raccoon do it as punishment, and it’ll be good as new.

“You’re going to remember your decision for years to come, raccoon,” Fox tells him, making their way up their doorstep and opening the front door to their den. They pull him inside and close it behind them, locking it and closing the curtains in the main living area. They’ve left the berries outside, but they’ll be back for them later. Hopefully, no more stingy raccoons will attempt to steal from Fox today.

“Alright, alright! I’m sorry,” the boy tells them, but Fox just laughs at him and sits him down on a kitchen chair. They rummage through a drawer, one hand still gripping his hair, and pull out a simple rope.

“Too late, friend,” they tie the rope around his arm in a fashion that won’t hurt him or get too tight unless he tries to pull it off. The other end is soon tied to one of the pipes on Fox’s fireplace. If the raccoon plans on leaving, he’s taking some home appliances with him. The pipes aren’t going to fit outside of any of the doors or windows. In other words, the raccoon is stuck with the fox for a while.

“You can’t keep me here like…like some kind of animal!” Raccoon is angry, but his words only make Fox laugh at him some more. Fox has a good giggle before unlocking the door and opening it. They bring the berries inside and set them on the kitchen table. The raccoon is still seated at said table, he’s been told to stay put for now. The rope is long enough for him to move about the house, but it doesn’t reach any of the doors. He could climb out of one of the windows, but he wouldn’t get very far without the pipe coming off and getting stuck in whatever window he chooses. He sighs in defeat, he’s going to be here for a while, isn’t he?

“You amuse me, raccoon, what’s your name?” Fox begins dumping the strawberries into a strainer. They put the strainer into the sink and turn the water on, letting it sift through the berries and clean them of the dirt that they accumulated during the chase or before while they were on the bush. The raccoon doesn’t respond at first, which is fine with Fox. They’ve got all of the time in the world. The only thing that was on their agenda before this was talking to Gray and making dinner. Dinner consists of fish from the pond across from the opossum’s drey. They managed to catch three good fish the other day, and they’ve been preserving them in the icebox for tonight, specifically. If the raccoon participates, he may be invited to join Fox’s dinner. If he does not, he will be kicked out by the end of the night without being fed dinner. It’s entirely up to him, and he knows it. How he acts in the next couple of hours will largely impact his life. That part, he doesn’t know yet. That part, neither of them knows.

“Gareth,” the raccoon replies, finally. Fox had gotten so used to just calling him by his species that they almost forgot that he had a name too. Fox finishes cleaning the berries and puts them in the icebox for tomorrow morning. They doubt that the raccoon, Gareth, will make it to the morning. With how he’s treating them, he’s not going to be dining anytime soon.

“Pretty,” they say, sarcastically. “Fox,” they hold out their hand for him to shake, but he just stares at them. He looks down at their hand, admiring the clawed glory, and then back up into their eyes as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “Shake,” Fox demands, rolling their eyes. “This is how you greet a friend,” they explain, crossing one arm over the other as Gareth hesitantly grabs their hand.

“Uh,” he swallows hard. “Nice name, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks at the ground. He’s just been referring to them with insults until now, they hope that the fall knocked some sense back into his brain, if he ever had any, to begin with. They doubt that the tumble in the grass did anything positive, unfortunately.

“Thank you,” Fox says sweetly, smiling down at him with a very gentle expression. He immediately looks confused, a dark pink blush covering his cheeks. Fox has never thought about it before, but maybe there’s a reason that raccoons are the way that they are. Does this raccoon not know what kindness is? He’s probably never been taught anything positive, which is why they brought him down here in the first place. They plan on fixing him up, making him nicer and less cruel. Maybe he won’t attempt to steal any more berries from unsuspecting foxes like Fox. “What were you thinking, stealing food from a red fox?” They ask, raising an eyebrow in his direction. He tenses up at the question but goes to answer it after only a moment of silence between them.

“That I was hungry,” he shrugs, looking back down at the floor without another word. It was more of a mumble, his response. He looks embarrassed, and Fox suddenly realizes something.

“Did your den mother never teach you how to hunt?” They inquire, sitting across the table from the boy in front of them. They’re genuinely interested in his response, but he takes offense to the question. He thinks that they’re trying to make fun of him or something similar.

“Yes, she did!” He gets defensive but quickly calms himself down. He knows that he’s not going to make any progress by yelling at Fox, so he tries a different approach to the situation. “No, not really,” he sighs, the response coming out breathy and soft. “She tried to, I guess, but she was busy all the time.” He doesn’t turn to face them again, he just continues staring at the floor with a puzzled expression.

It takes Fox a long time to respond to this. They’re processing, and processing, and processing some more. So, a washed-up raccoon landed in their den somehow, and now they’re trying to fix him. They’re evaluating their options and trying to figure out the best way to approach the situation, but they can’t seem to find anything that’s not going to end in disaster. They can’t make any appropriate jokes in the situation, and they can’t go back on anything they’ve done to him. That would be a sign of weakness, they can’t have that. So, they act like this was the plan from the beginning. They’re pretty good at that, actually.

“I’m gonna give you a task,” they tell him, smiling seriously. Their expression is smug but somehow caring. They’re trying to keep the same vibes in the room, the ones that say that the raccoon is in trouble and Fox is in charge.

“A task?” He asks, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“A task,” Fox agrees, nodding their head in agreement. They bite at their bottom lip before looking back down at him in the chair. “To pay me back for ruining my day. Do you accept?” They raise a single eyebrow, eyeing him up and down to see if he’s going to attempt to change his ways or not. This decision is up to him, but Fox knows the correct answer.

“Well, what is it?” He asks, not answering the question. Fox sighs and throws their hands up, almost breaking character to laugh at him.

“You don’t get to know until you accept!” They explain, smiling at him. He rolls his eyes and nods.

“Fine, yeah, whatever.”

“Then you’re to clean the kitchen.” His eyes widen at their sentence. He looks around the room at the kitchen surrounding them.

“The whole thing?” He asks in disbelief.

“The whole thing.” Fox nods and stands up to begin making dinner, secretly hoping that the raccoon cleaning their kitchen will be willing to stay for the meal after everything that they’ve put him through this evening.

#gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #gwydion lashlee walton #eddie munson #banned in boise #gareth #hellfire club #i love him #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth emerson smut #eddie munson fanfic

[waheelawhisperer]

Once more unto the breach, with my impressions of Volume 9 Episode 3 of RWBY below the cut. I liked this episode more than the last 2, but I'm frankly not sure how I could've liked them less, so I'm praying that the only way we can go is up.

Welcome, everyone, to the continuing adventures of Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Yang Xiao Long, and the shambling corpse of what was once Blake Belladonna, hereafter referred to as Blek. Last time, Team RWBY set out to find a way to return home, Blake's characterization was brutally massacred by the writers, and the gang got Yang's arm back from a raccoon whose name sounds like a slur. Next up, we're off to visit the Red King in the hopes that following the path of a story that we know very little about and wasn't properly set up or foreshadowed will allow our protagonists to make it back to Remnant (please go back to Remnant, the sooner the better).

The episode actually starts out by raising an interesting question: what happened to the Red King? Was it something to do with humans? Is this something Alyx did somehow?

That said, the Red Prince is annoying. I think someone should punt him like the football. I do like the way they've conveyed so much of his personality through his movements and gestures and body language though.

"Did I used to be this unbearably pompous?" No, Weiss, you didn’t. At least I enjoyed it while you were on screen.

Honestly, Weiss, I feel your pain. Best character of the Volume so far.

On the one hand, I feel like our heroes should’ve done more than stare in horror as two guards were beheaded on a whim. On the other hand, I don’t care about the guards either, so I can’t blame them.

Ruby is kinder and more diplomatic than I am. I someone had thrown away my only memento of someone I was incredibly close to like that I would’ve thrown hands and to hell with the consequences. I would’ve done anything to get that sword back. I wasn't expecting her to let go of the last piece of Penny she had. She just seems so... defeated.

Honestly this token protest isn't doing a lot to sell me on her grief for Penny or their supposed closeness/importance to each other, like I'm buying into it because of what we got from earlier Volumes and all but it's not really coming through in this scene. I think the writers are trying to show how powerful Ruby's depression is, but it's not really landing for me.

I wish Ruby had cared more about Penny’s sword in this scene but I do like that she’s being a bit of a guile hero. It’s a reminder that she’s supposed to be clever, even if sometimes it doesn’t really feel like the story remembers that.

I’ll say this for the Ever After: it’s visually impressive. The people in charge of the art part of the show really went all out.

Ruby’s reaction when the Red Prince mentions her friends being available to play is interesting. She very much does not want to lead, it seems.

Great. WBY are small now. I hope this is a temporary thing. I'm steadily getting more and more fed up with this Volume's gimmicks.

Of course everyone gets to look good but Yang here, who punches herself in the face and then faceplants. Was this really necessary? Stop trying to be funny. Please. Not only is this not the time for it, but your jokes aren't even good. I've given up all hope of these writers treating Yang with any kind of respect at this point, not gonna lie.

“No one’s going to get hurt, right?” I like this line. It’s very clear now that Ruby’s struggling with the burdens of leadership and the consequences of making decisions. We’re finally starting to see her insecurities come to light.

Between the way the Red King’s pawns look bigger and tougher and the little nod he gives the white pawn, he’s obviously not playing fair. Time for Ruby to cheat? I sure hope so, she is supposed to be a leader and a tactician. Show us some clever stratagems.

Looks like WBY are going to carry here, something I predicted the moment it became clear they'd be competing.

When I saw Yang get cocky I fell in love all over again holy shit she’s exactly my type

Like not to be a heterosexual but oh my God Jesus Christ

Watching the Bees cheer for each other was cute, honestly. Unfortunately, I’m not as delighted by Bumbleby moments as I normally would be after the shitshow that was Episode 2.

As I watch the Red Prince throw yet another temper tantrum, I really want to know what happened to his predecessor, inasmuch as I want to know anything related to this setting. Please give us the Red King back and not this obnoxious little prick.

Oh shit. Eyes in the shadows.

Okay that got a reaction. Humans are not welcome here, it seems. Is this related to something Alyx did?

Love the reminder of just how damn good Team RWBY are in a fight after a Volume or so of them not really getting to show that. Love the decision to have Blek job a lot less. Of course she's the first one to take a hit in this fight.

I feel like there’s no tension here, Ruby can flatten all the pawns with one foot lmao and her friends have Aura, what is she even getting worried for

I guess this is following up on her fears from earlier and her struggle with the consequences of leadership but it just feels silly as things stand and I don't have enough faith in the writers to be confident that they'll do anything with this later

Blek why do you look terrified you've faced (lost to) better foes in your sleep

Was hoping Ruby’s heroic resolve would be accompanied by a display of tactics on her end where she maneuvers individually superior forces to defeat a large group of lesser opponents but instead WBY just kinda do it on their own. Maybe this will feed into Ruby’s insecurity about leadership somehow?

It was pretty badass seeing Weiss pull out (part of) the Nevermore and amplify Yang's combat capabilities. Good reminder of how valuable she is as a team support.

Give a pansexual a sword and she'll want some bloodshed to go with it.

This is how Bee’s Schnees can still win.

That’s it, Ruby. Get mad. Nice to see you invested in something.

I still don’t feel worried for WBY, they all have Aura and can double-jump.

Well, this certainly feels like Alice in Wonderland. Glad they’re finally doing something visually interesting with the setting.

Ruby’s gonna feel even more like a failure after this. RIP girlie.

Kitty's feeling just a biiiiiit sinister to me.

Little is sleeping again. What is the point of this character?

Go off, Weiss, tell them all how much this sucks.

WBY are still small. I hope we don’t have a whole fucking sidequest that involves getting WBY back to normal size but I’m 100% certain we will. I hate this Volume.

I agree with you, Weiss. No one here can be normal. Please let us go to Vacuo. I’m begging you.

Did they really have to make “Rubes” canon? I have genuinely never liked that bit of fanon. Including it here is too late to make it feel organic. It just feels like something thrown in for the fans.

I like how, again, Blek and Yang are the ones who know the story. I am not overly fond of Blek being so upbeat when Ruby’s clearly hurting and the gang just lost a major battle (Atlas), but I feel like if anyone’s going to be this peppy, it does make sense for it to be Little Miss Bookworm.

Shut up, Little. All you do is nap. You’re about to go back to Emergency Rations status.

Oh shit Neo in the house

And her Semblance evolved. Either we get to see how dangerous the Jabberwalker really is, or Neo’s being set up for a big fight later in the Volume.

Or we get literally nothing. What the fuck?

RIP Jabby I guess

Overall rating: Mediocre/10

Overall, this episode was better than the two colossal turds that preceded it. Hopefully this trend continues. If I didn’t hate the setting so much, this would probably be decidedly average, a stunning endorsement by Volume 9 standards.

#rwby

[nny11writes]

🤩😅🥺🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡💔👀

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

I mean, I don't think folks will be too surprised to learn it switches between Catra and Glimmer right now lol. My hidden fave that I rarely write ever is Netossa :D

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Oh god, how far are we going back here cuz I've been doing this for over 20 years now.............

Okayokayokayokayokay- SMIDGE embarrassed exists....hmmmm.

Weirdly enough, it's a ST:VOY fic I wrote forever ago called "Backwards". It was a big growth moment fic for me. At the time I was mostly posting in Voq Je Bang and was probably one of the youngest writers in there and I wanted to write a fic where B'Elanna was actually closer to Seska but it was a B7 fic to and I didn't commit to a darker tone or lighter tone or much of anything beyond my twist ending. Half the people who read it loved it and the other half wrote me very nice comments about how "The twist just wasn't for them" or confusion on build up to the twist.

At the time I was crushed but I also tried to take the writing advice to heart. Nowadays when I think about it there's a little twinge of "oh boy that sure was cringe".

I'm not outright embarrassed by anything I've written, plenty of stuff I'm not proud of but also not embrassed. Like, you can still read the very first fic I ever posted that was the LoZ:WW and HP crossover fic with a lot of questionable humor and was intended to be read as a fun fic but also a very deadly serious full game walkthrough. Which maybe I should feel embarrassed about that one but YOU CAN'T MAKE ME NANANANA BOO BOO!!!!

But also, am I going to link to either of these directly? Absolutely not. Go digging through the trash like the rest of us raccoons!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? (but, like, 5 times in a row)

Also this got long because of course it did!

Let's Try This Again, Chapter 11, Star Wars

“Wait,” he said, brain finally catching up to what she’d actually said, “what do you mean Master Windu isn’t done?”

“There was some damages left behind after-”

“Master, you need to let her speak!” Anakin huffed.

Obi-Wan looked both sheepish and churlish. “I was just trying to help.”

“Ok, thanks, please don’t?” Anakin grumbled and looked at Ahsoka.

She grinned back at him, in what was far too evil of a manner for a child, before saying, “I don’t mind!”

“I appreciate that, but Anakin is right.” Master Obi-Wan conceded with just a hint of a stern look.

“Ok,” Ahsoka said with a shrug, “there was some damages left behind.”

When Obi-Wan snorted, Anakin buried his face in his hands. “This is serious!?”

Ahsoka pouted, “ ‘m always serious!”

2. Guardian Angel, She-Ra

“Wait, wait, wait,” Netossa holds her hands up and Catra is so grateful to not be the one explaining any of this, “You’re telling me that she is magically bonded to this alien that reflects her emotions, which (by the way) we can’t understand it AND that she can see and hear Queen Angella?”

Adora smiles awkwardly, clearly trying to act like this is a normal everyday experience that everyone has at some point. Because absolutely everyone has become mentally and emotionally bonded to an alien creature while being actively haunted by the people they’ve killed. “Yes!”

“...that new She Ra form working okay? No side effects to it?” Netossa delicately asks more towards Bow than anyone else.

3. Pink Lizard Thunderbolt Incident, Star Wars (AKA Drunk!Ahsoka has a fun night, AKA the one I spent way too much time learning Star Wars alcoholic drinks for)

“You drink one Pink Lizard and everyone becomes an asshole!”

Anakin had panicked for a hot minute while Obi-Wan had immediately sat her down. She’d been quickly forced to explain that Kix had seen her and discharged her already, no she wasn’t dying, and no they only ate through the stomach lining of humans according to the bartender.

Anakin had eventually smiled widely, far too manic for anyone’s tastes, looking between her and Obi-Wan, “We’re high tolerance drinkers! That’s our lineage tick!”

“No,” Obi-Wan tried his best to discourage the notion. “I know what you’re thinking and we should definitely not-”

“Yes!” Anakin insisted, only getting more excited, “We need to get drinks together! Now!”

“No,” Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had both insisted, but for wildly different reasons.

“But yes!” Anakin chripped far to happy and loud for anyone to enjoy as he dragged them off towards their quarters. “So what are we having, I know how to get the good stuff in here.”

“Either get me herbal tea or get me another Pink Lizard so I can die in kriffing peace!” Ahsoka snarled and tried to get her arm out from the mechno grip he’d locked her into.

Obi-Wan said, “I second the motion! Let me go Anakin!”

“Cool, I’m thinking jet juice to start then some skee’s and we’ll see how we’re feeling.” Anakin said the same way some people might imply that eating a small desert after a meal might be one step too far.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan looked at one another in horror, mute from fear.

“How are you still alive?” She whispered staring up at her Master with new respect.

4. It's All Fun and Games Until, Chapter 1, She-Ra (why must I choose between my children on this fic?)

Glimmer held one hand up, the other rubbed at her eyes before turning to look at the final culprit.

Catra, somehow still looking bored despite the way some of her hair was actively smoldering explained, “Things went fucktangular.”

“Well, fuck.” Glimmer groaned, giving the three of them one more look. “How did you three always manage to beat us? You’re disasters when left alone. For literally FIVE MINUTES!”

“Actually, it was only four minutes and twenty three seconds we were alone. So that means we’re improving our efficiency drastically!” Entrapta cheered, bouncing on her hair while high fiving both Catra and Scorpia.

Bow restrained Glimmer by gently grasping her elbow and whispering, “Stay strong for mother.”

5. Sketchy, She-Ra

It made her feel like she was an actual fucking artist, like an old master teaching their young pupil, who they may or may not be banging on the side. So what if all her drawings looked like Princess Goddess? Fuck off, it’s not your business! Anyways, here she is as an angel and several homoerotic saints. Don’t read into it.

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

Declarations fucking destroyed me regularly tbh lol! There's a lot of unresolved feelings between all the characters in it, and no one ever totally gets what the others are trying to say or do. I didn't know I was autistic when I was writing it but boy howdy was it the fic I channeled a lot of negative and weird feelings from into regarding that and my anxiety and depression at the time. It was super cathartic to write at times considering the depths of mental health hell I was in at the time.

Still fucked me up and broke my heart to write this story where two people care so damn much about one another and keep missing one another by inches.

There's plenty of lovely fun stuff too, squishy soft feelings and warm fuzzies. But a lot of that fic is just getting to watch Obi-Wan and Ahsoka feel bad and try to figure out how to stop feeling bad together.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Okay, don't hold me to this one, we'll see what happens or if it goes anywhere at all, but I'm working on a She-Ra selkie AU based on that tumblr post where someone hands another person back their coat and whoops we're married now. Anyhow free WiP Wednesday on accident :D

~

There’s no moment where she remembers a change or transformation. Adora was always a human until she suddenly has always been a seal with fur glowing nearly golden under the sun.

“Oh.” She says because what else is there to say. It turns out Adora isn’t some crazy person.

Which means she’s exactly what she said she is.

Which means that in Catra’s rush to be nice for 2 seconds to feel better about herself, she accidentally tricked Adora into marrying her a year ago. And then abandoned her new wife who had to go hunting for her across the country. Her wife, the selkie. Her wife, who is currently a seal, but also not, but seriously she’s a seal right now.

Catra carefully lowers herself to her knees, head tilting as Adora barks at her and wobbles forward on her flippers a bit. All the whiskers on her face point forward towards her, bright blue eyes twinkling with excitement and mischief before she snorts hard enough to surprise Catra and then rolls over with what sounds suspiciously like a laugh before vanishing into the lake.

#thanks for asking! #thanks for playing! #ask game #writer ask game #BEHOLD ALL THE FICS I LOVETH (but not like all of them just a lot of them) #WiP Wednesday #but on accident somehow since I wasn't planning on doing it lol #will I ever stop feeling super proud of Declarations even when thinking about it makes my chest hurt a little? #absolutely not dumb question! #Me: I swear my drunk Ahsoka fic is fun and funny! #Every Sane Person: Okay that's nice sweetie #the selkie AU #I wanted to choose a WiP I haven't talked about a ton already since I tend to gush on certain ones #Or have other's I've talked about before (I swear Princess & the Thief is not dead!) #so selkie AU it is

[ambientbroth]

Self-Diagnosed Autism Journal Entry 11

My apartment is hell. I can’t wait to live in my school bus, here are a few things that I deal with on a daily basis.

When my downstairs neighbor takes a shower the pipes start “singing” and it’s this high pitched noise for how ever long and it drives me insane you can hear it throughout

The dishwasher accumulates water, therefore, we need to run the dishwasher twice a day and we hate the dishwasher. Hate dishwasher noise

The kitchen vent light makes that horrible electric light noise and so does the overhead sink light.. lots of humming, outdated, dirty electronics in my apartment oh yes

Horrendous lighting - everywhere! All the light switches turn on the most weirdest places and horrible light bulb types

When the AC is turned off there’s this droning, humming sound that is just ongoing.

The cabinets are too deep, inaccessible, broken, caked with grease from previous owners, and weird/horrible placement. You can’t fit anything in this kitchen. You may be thinking “well cabinets aren’t hard to figure out” but these motherfuckers will have you on your ass I promise.

The kitchen drawers are all broken from the sliding wheel thing - you know the thing that makes the drawers move… yeah all broken. So everytime I go to a persons house I open they’re drawers.. it’s.. wow I need to write that down that’s an OCD trait.

The apartment placement is too close to the main road, there’s so much car noise, too many sirens, and the traffic here is so busy. Our porch faces the parking lot so it feels like a spotlight on us

They will randomly shut off the water! That’s ILLEGAL. They do maintenance without telling us and the water shuts off FOR THE WHOLE BUILDING FOR HOURS. it happened yesterday for 6 hours.

My toilet flushes ✨excessively✨ I mean it takes so much water and makes so much noise. The whole thing alone is probably like 2 minutes of toilet sound

My tub drain MY MOTHER FUCKING TUB DRAIN! IT JUST DRAINS! IT DOESNT HOLD WATER! I mean it will but immediately it’ll start the draining process. No quiet bath. Only drain noises

But this is my apartment and I’ve always wanted independence. So even though this is an expensive shit show it’s still my home and I have to love my home.

The hallway lights are all broken. There are 4 big box fluorescent lights. Can’t see shit but it’s way better than bright overhead LED blaring humming lights, plus our neighbor set out a lamp so we get ✨ambience✨

Landlord specials are everywhere❤️ if you don’t know what a landlord special is, it’s when landlords will paint a chunky white paint over layers and layers of other chunky white paint to make the place look ✨brand new✨ - it’s actually disgusting but I love finding Easter eggs in my apartment I think it’s hilarious. In my apartment the landlord specials are; the bathroom cabinet hinges, one human hair in the paint, and one bug

There’s a large outdoor cat community. People set out food and shelters for strays. People will attempt to catch them in small cages to be spayed or nurtured because we’ve had some babies. My cats are spayed so I let them out and there’s really no problems

There’s also a big squirrel, geese, crow, and raccoon community - but big emphasis on the squirrels.. they are actually really scary and extremely dominant. They will bark at you from 9 feet up because they feel threatened by your presence lol

I’m not even naming my apartment things now lol

I guess it’s spacious and I can make different hideouts and different rooms (2 rooms, 2 living spaces, since we don’t have a dining table, and a kitchen)

We can smoke weed and no one will care!

We can vocal stim as loud as we want and no one will knock on the door or call the cops

FREE STUFF AT ALL THE DUMPSTERS😍 I LOVE TRASH

There’s a meadow about 180 paces from my apartment

Gas fire stove, it have horrible temperature control but I still like cooking with fire

Out of all the big horrible sensory things and realizing a home should be the place where I love the most, it’s still my home.

Which doesn’t really change anything, i can’t wait to move.

#self diagnosed autisic #actually autistic #my apartment #renting is evil #landlords are bastards #landlords are scum #landlords are parasites #sensory overload #sensory issues

[jamiepoet]

Benjiman Fujisaki

Do they like their name?:Never thought about it but he’s alright with it

Nicknames: Benji, he’s also called Zombie

Age?:16 highschool

How old do they appear?: By his height, 17-18 but y'know he’s only a year younger

Birthday: December 7th

Eye color?: Axel makes them appear maroon and blue but his original eye color is brown

Glasses?: Only for the style

Weight/build: bean poll and a small bit toned

Height?: 5’9(175.26 cm)

Skin type?: sunkissed when put into the effort but can go pale when tired

Hair color/length: chin length and he dyed it blue, originally a reddish brown though

Taste in clothes: he dresses like a hobo, unless axels in control you are dealing with a feral raccoon (aka won’t wear pants)

Healthy?: depends, usually pretty healthy until needed to activate quirk then his heart stops beating at a normal pace(going extremely slow)

Music:(https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ofUCcX3Qj0Ublmo5DzQCR?si=agB449UlTha0N49xlSmT6w)

Daredevil: considering Axel is like venom and keeps benji alive, he’s very reckless it gets to the point where even Axel can’t fix it sometimes

Are they the same alone: talks to axel a lot but other than that he sleeps in his free time

Good habits: Hygiene is on point and remembers to sleep at a healthy time

Bad habits: self destructive as well as explosive anger

Hobbies: water coloring and playing LOZ over and over again

Family situation?: loves them with all his heart, Axel tolerates them

Friend situation: treats them like family and is very welcoming

Deepest fear: Axel taking over when he’s sleeping and he murders everyone in a hunger haze

Worst that could happen to them?:

being left alone again with axle for too long, silence makes him anxious

Favorite thing: Brownies no not weed brownies just nicely made brownies that melt in your mouth

Roll model: his Momma (yes he’s a momma's boy)

What would break them: seeing his little brother mark + his mom dead by his own hands or someone he trusted.

Best/worst thing in his life: best thing is definitely the fact he can function as a healthy human and worst would be that he can’t remember his life from 5-7 those memories are gone

What are they reluctant to tell people?:

He was quirkless before Axel and would’ve rather stayed that way

Opinion on intimate/ romantic relationships: cool awesome Thumbs up from benji

Major flaws:

Self destruction (and I mean the whole sha-bang, tearing up papers scratching his arms breaking stuff and even ruining his voice from screaming) plus facial dysmorphia

How does he feel about himself?: he doesn’t remember, and thinking about it makes his head hurt

Selfish,selfless: would sacrifice himself but know that he has to take care of himself as well, his family comes first though

How does the way the character try to be different from how they actually act:

Benji tries to ignore the ability that axel heightens his senses a lot more so he can hear everything at a dogs hearing and see a lot but if you mean by personality he drains himself completely of energy by the end of the day (the people pleaser life)

Now questions answered by Benji!

What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten: sandstone with ants on it, axel force fed it to me when I was hungry. Humans can not eat anything with nutrients regardless if it would solve the problem

Hogwarts?: between a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw, bff is defo Luna for acceptance, Harry angers me as a protagonist, no love interest too Id get distracted by magic,

Ever bullied or have anyone afraid of you?: No I’ve never bullied but dark shadow seems to avoid me

Ever given away something expensive for free and do you regret it: I gave Mark my Pokémon cards because he got interested in it. I don’t regret it the way his face lit up is something I will love forever

Do you donate?: I would but I’m incredibly broke due to schooling and medication bills

What would you haunt as a ghost?: I would be the kind of ghost that mildly cleans for my brother Mark but if he’s a ghost with me then probably Mount Rushmore

Ever do something dumb/cool and acted like it was on purpose/accident.: there was this one time where I was cornered by some druggies and I ended up scaling the wall with my main torso towards them and my arms to the wall. That was by accident I just stuck to the wall! It wasn’t my fault I did take credit for it every time I tell the story though

If you could drink something for the rest of your life with no negative affect what would it be?

Shirley temples I can’t drink alcohol with my slowly deteriorating liver so definitely that.

Garden stuff?

I like cantaloupe and carrots but I think I would have a swamp other than a garden, y'know cat tails and moss.

Do you have any beliefs?:

I say dear god I’m sorry when I’m about to do something stupid and stuff but axel says that deity(s) are silly since why do you need to know what happens before you. Looking backwards does more bad than good

Motivation?:

Being a hero was all I could think to do with such a destructive power. If Axle is satisfied with hurting villains and destroying property than I can keep everyone safe

Who were you raised to be?: no idea I just kind of came into existence and my mom was proud and happy of it no matter what I became to be

How do you feel about yourself?

I exist to spite whatever allowed Axel to exist and hubris I guess it does effect how I treat him and others by simply making them worry but know Better than nothing

How do you feel about things you can’t control?: absolutely terrified next question

Can you use Chopsticks?

uh embarrassing to admit since I’ve used them before the amber(or so I’m told) but I can never use them again it’s so difficult

What do you do when you can’t sleep?

I watch cartoons that I enjoy like adventure time and Steven universe

What order do you wash in?

Weird flex but okay and whatever container I look at first ig so my hair and then everything else or it’s my teeth

Buying impulsively?

I buy keychain stuffed animals or just small one I have a few shoe boxes filled with them

Coffee order?

I can’t drink coffee, Axel rejects it and makes me throw it up once it gets in my stomach. It was not fun to figure that out all nighter with Mina.

Whatsapps did you get on your phone?

Tind- no I’m kidding I have tumblr, Snapchat and YouTube and like 7 different puzzle games

You like kids?

Sometimes it literally depends on whether or not they like me but I do tend to be sweet to them

What do you watch when you're bored?

I rewatch ATLAB, a lot

Where are you from?

Hosu city:

INFJ-T

(I have more just not very proud of them)

#my oc’s #Benjiman Fujisaki

[wkemeup]

Play Pretend (II)

summary: In the aftermath of Munich, Bucky struggles to go back to how things were before. But now that he knows how it is to love you, he's not sure he can. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 5.8k warnings: smut (18+), mutual pining idiots a/n: here is the final part! make sure you catch up at part 1 first! gif by @crispychrissy

Bucky couldn’t get the image out of his head for days after the mission in Munich. Pictures of you laying so beautifully beneath him, the slight curve of your lips as a moan slipped past, skin so soft it begged to be touched and soothed and worshiped. He couldn’t let go of how you sounded, how you cried out his name or the gentle whimpers spoken so sweetly against his ear. He couldn’t stop craving you wrapped so tightly around him, your hands caressing down his arms, his back, his shoulders, your unbridged desire to touch every part of him, even the parts he despised.

Memories that found him in his sleep in the early hours of the morning, in the shower when his legs were weak and tired, at the breakfast table when you strolled in wearing a t-shirt down to your thighs and the evident curve of your breasts bare beneath the fabric.

Bucky tried to push the thoughts away. He tried to stop thinking of what happened in that cold, abandoned Hydra base. He tried to bury that longing somewhere deep, somewhere he’d never be bothered by it again. But it always came back in the image of you in that cell.

It plagued him. It taunted him.

He wanted more.

He didn’t know how to admit it. Not to himself, and certainly not to you. So, he did his best to suffocate those feelings, those cravings for something real, but they still found their way to the surface.

They spilled over on movie nights with the team and Bucky would find himself inching closer to you, in the gym when he took just a second longer to lift his weight from your body after a winded match that ended on the surface of the mat, on walks around the compound when he found himself wanting to capture your hand in his own as your fingers brushed by.

Those feelings slipped from his smothering hold on missions when he watched your back far more than his own, when he’d missed an obvious target in an attempt to clear your enemy line and ended up catching three bullets himself. He lost composure whenever you didn’t respond on coms or when you’d stumble back onto the quinjet with an injury you’d been hiding. He dove headfirst into fires and threw his body up as a shield and spent every night in agony wondering if you knew that he’d give his whole life to you if you’d asked.

It made him stupid. It made him reckless. It might actually get him killed.

But it hadn’t started in Munich. No, that was just the catalyst of it all. Bucky had loved you long before that drug infiltrated his system and left the two of you in an impossible position. He’d managed to keep his feelings at bay for years; hiding behind quick witted jokes and friendly banter and a genuine friendship and it had been enough. Honest, it had.

Only, now he knew what it was like to be with you. He caught a taste of what it would be like to make love to you and he didn’t know if he could ever forget and move on. It had been weeks since Munich and it still felt like it happened yesterday.

He had to do something to keep it from consuming him, even if it broke your heart. Even if it broke his, too.

***

“What the hell do you mean you can’t work with Y/n anymore?”

Steve groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. It had been a long day of debriefing with about a dozen agents making demands he was unwilling to compromise on. This, separating his best team, was among them.

“It’s just not a good idea, Steve,” Bucky said, arms folded tightly over his chest as he watched Steve pace relentlessly down the conference room.

“That’s ridiculous, Buck.” Steve slumped into the chair beside his friend. “You two are the best insurgent team I have.”

“Just trust me. You’ve seen how I’ve been in the field lately. I can’t keep a straight head around her, okay? Not after—” Bucky clenched his jaw, turning away.

Steve sighed, hanging his head. “You ever gonna tell me what happened in Munich?”

Bucky’s lip was chewed raw; scars over broken wounds, teeth digging into painful cracks. It was a nasty habit he picked up after Munich. He wasn’t used to this kind of nervousness; a deep and unsettling feeling churned to stone in the pit of his stomach.

“Reassign me, Steve,” Bucky asked again, firmer. He could feel Steve’s eyes burning on him, tracing every inch of his face, searching for a tell, but he wouldn’t find one. Bucky was trained better than that. He knew to keep his features cold, stoned, even if his heart was pounding against his chest. He wondered it Steve could hear it, too.

The silence hung heavy in the air.

“Alright,” Steve finally conceded. He shook his head reluctantly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Bucky sighed a breath of relief, the weight of months filled with a longing he couldn’t tame and painful twist in his heart slipping from him in seconds. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” Steve stood up from his chair, gathered the papers from the desk and made his way to the door. He paused just at the frame, turned around slowly to find Bucky had relaxed a little too much for his liking and added, “you’re going to be the one to tell her.”

“What?” Bucky scrambled out of his chair, nearly losing his footing and all composure as he stood to face Steve.

“You’ve been partners for years,” Steve shot back tensely. “She’s had your back on countless missions, saved your life on more than one occasion, and—come on, Buck— you guys are friends! The two of you spend every day together, even when you’re benched! You don’t want to give me an explanation? Fine. But you sure as hell owe her one.”

Bucky shook his head rapidly, hands clenching at the fraying edges of his t-shirt. “Steve, I—”

“Just talk to her,” Steve said, a heavy disappointment lingering in his voice. His lips parted, as if there were more he wanted to say, but decided against it. He hung his head, pat Bucky firmly on his shoulder, and left.

***

Had he always been able to hear his own heartbeat like this?

It was pounding in his ears, thunderous, deafening, and he swore just about everyone else on the floor could its thumping as he approached your room.

The door was open ajar with a small glimmer of sunlight streaming out into the dimly lit hallway. You were singly quietly to yourself – humming, maybe – as you sat on the edge of your bed, staring down onto your phone. You didn’t seem to notice him at the door. He knocked.

Your head popped up, surprised at the sudden intrusion and your eyes only narrowed upon finding it was Bucky standing below the doorframe. You looked at him for a moment before you turned back to your phone without saying another word.

He deserved that.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. He was still staring into the room through the small slit in the door.

You shrugged. “Depends. Are you still avoiding me?”

A sharp sting burned in his chest as Bucky tried to unclench his jaw. Truthfully, he had been avoiding you for days now. Ever since he made up his mind to ask for a reassignment. It didn’t matter if Steve shipped him off to Alaska or the Amazons or out into space with the goddamn raccoon; all he knew was that every minute he spent beside you was agony and he needed to get away from it – away from you – before it consumed him whole.

None of that was your fault. You didn’t know why he was suddenly too busy to spar on your usual weekdays or join the team for movie nights. He never told you why he suddenly started pulling away, cutting off all contact as if you hadn’t been friends for years before Munich.

“I’ve got something important to talk to you about,” Bucky replied, clearing his throat.

You sat up, sitting the phone down by your side as you recognized the tone in his voice. Clinical. Mission oriented. Business. He didn’t want it to sound so cold, but he wasn’t sure he could do this if it wasn’t.

Bucky stepped into the room, prying the door open gently with a slow squeak on its hinges as he closed it behind him. He’d been in your room dozens of times before, but somehow, in this moment, it felt like an invasion of privacy, like he wasn’t supposed to be there.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep focus. He took a few steps forward and gingerly sat on the edge of your bed, keeping careful distance as he wrung at his hands in his lap.

“I’m being reassigned.”

You furrowed your brow. He could practically hear your heart skip a beat.

“What? No. They can’t do that!” You shook your head, determined. There were traces of disbelief on your face – anger, too. Your hands gripped tightly into the sheets at your sides. “They can’t just reassign you, Buck. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Y/n, you don’t understand,” he started to say, but you were already on your feet, pacing around the room. It was how you calmed yourself when your thoughts were racing too fast. The stabbing pain in Bucky’s chest only seemed to dig deeper.

“I know the field has been messy lately, but that happens to everyone! They can’t split us up because of a few extra trips to the med bay,” you argued, wearing trenches into the carpet of your bedroom. You stopped abruptly. “Who gave the order? Steve? Tony? I’ll take this up with Fury if I have to, okay? I won’t let them—”

“Y/n, stop. Please.” Bucky hung his head. His right hand was red as his left clasped and tugged at the skin. He couldn’t find the courage to meet your eye but he could tell from the way you stilled that you knew what he was about to say. “It was me. I asked for reassignment.”

It didn’t seem to hurt any less though because your stance still faltered. It was barely noticeable, not to the human eye, but Bucky’s sensed were advanced thanks to his time in Hydra. He saw the way your body weight shifted just slightly, how your breath caught in your chest, the slight flicker of your eyes. Shock. Betrayal. Hurt.

“You said it yourself,” Bucky reasoned, trying to find excuses where there were none, “there’s been too many ER trips lately. I keep getting hurt.”

“Because you insist on using your body as human shield, Buck!” you retorted, arms flung out to the sides. “Just knock that off and we’ll be fine!”

Bucky shook his head, his lips curling ever so slightly though it didn’t touch his eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course, it is!” you argued. You started pacing again. “Don’t be an idiot, Barnes. I’m not losing my partner. Go tell them you were joking or concussed and not thinking straight!”

“I’m not going to do that.” Bucky clenched his jaw. His right hand was starting to lose feeling from how tightly he was gripping it.

Why couldn’t you make this easy on him? You were supposed to be angry with him for ignoring you for the last week. You were angry with him and yet you still fought for him. He couldn’t make sense of it.

The pacing stopped again, though this time it came in slow, like a realization that found its way piece by piece until it melded into a visible image.

“Was it something I did?”

Bucky jumped up to his feet, instinctively wanting to walk towards you but you held your ground. He froze, standing several feet away.

“No,” he said firmly. “God no. You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/n.”

“Then what?” You raised your arms out to the side in question. “We’ve been partners for years, Bucky. I’ve relied on you all that time to have my back, to keep me alive out there, and—and—” you groaned rather loudly, “you’re my best friend! You can’t just up and decide you’re done with me and move on!”

Bucky frowned. “That’s not what this is.”

You shook your head, arms folding tightly over your chest protectively. “Sure feels like it.”

The silence between you was unbearable. Bucky didn’t have a good excuse. You were right to be angry with him. He was abandoning you. He was a coward. He was running away from a painful situation to avoid facing it head on because he was terrified to lose you. Though, as you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, pulling them away a moment later to find a soft glisten of reflection in their wake, Bucky started to wonder that were already true.

“Oh God,” you exhaled, a heavy realization in your voice as you turned to him. Your shoulders slumped. “This is because of Munich, isn’t it?”

Bucky flinched. He tried not to, but you noticed. A look of absolute devastation crossed your features as your lips parted, sinking down onto your bed.

“I knew things were different after that mission. I mean, how could they not be?” You leaned over against your thighs, letting your hair fall down to shield your face where Bucky could not see. “I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have given in. You couldn’t consent with that shit running through your veins. Not really. So— fuck – I completely understand if you can’t be around me after I—”

“That’s not what happened,” Bucky interjected sharply, shaking himself from the fear coursing through him as he crossed the room to you. He knelt down beside your bed and waited patiently for you to lift your head and let the curtain of hall fall away from your face. “I could have fought it. It hurt like hell, but I would have survived it even if we… if we hadn’t…”

He let his voice trail off, his cheeks turning a slight side of pink. He sighed. “The point... is that I wanted to. I really wanted to. And that’s the problem.”

You narrowed your eyes, confused.

Was he really going to tell you? Wasn’t this what he had been trying to avoid? Throwing away years of friendship to confess deeper feelings he was all but sure you’d never reciprocate?

But there was something about the way you were looking at him. With tears glistening in your eyes and a grief he couldn’t quite place nestled into the lines on your forehead, Bucky began to wonder if walking away would give him any relief at all. He wasn’t sure he could ever leave this room again if you were left blaming yourself for his crimes.

Bucky slowly placed his right hand on your knee, rubbing his thumb gently along the dimple. Your eyes followed his movements, watching curiously until he found the courage to speak.

“We’ve been partners for a while,” he started, clearing his voice when it came out shaken. You nodded. “I feel like sometimes I know what you’re thinking just by looking at you and when we’re out in the field, even in the middle of chaos, it’s like you can tell what I’m doing before I actually figure it out myself. We’re really good together. Out there. It’s hard to find that these days.”

You didn’t say anything and for that, he was grateful. He needed to get this out before he shut down completely.

“I think we only got that good because we’re… uhm… we’re close, you know?” Bucky took a deep breath, releasing his grip on your knee when he realized he’d started to squeeze it a little too hard. Your hand was sitting on your thigh, but you’d inched it closer to his, enough so the tips of your fingers overlapped onto his.

“We’re friends.” Bucky paused at the term, deciding it wasn’t strong enough. “It’s more than that though. I trust you with things I wouldn’t even tell Steve. You were the first person I felt like I could be myself around. Not the Bucky that Steve remembers or the one Hydra manipulated. This one. Whatever that means.”

Your whole hand covered his now, as much as it would allow. He glanced up to find your fingers curling under his, a slight squeeze to tell him you were still listening. He exhaled another breath and the pressure in his chest felt a little lighter.

“What happened in Munich didn’t awaken anything or… or open my eyes to something I didn’t know was there,” Bucky continued, his eyes trained on your legs, unable to find the courage to face you. “I’ve known how I felt about you for a long time. I was okay with it. I learned to live with it and manage it because being your friend and being your partner was too important to lose. But…”

He felt your hands squeeze his again.

“But after Munich… I don’t know how to go back. I don’t think I can.” Bucky didn’t dare to meet your eye. He could feel the words slipping past his lips before he had a chance to pull them back in. A waterfall of confessions he couldn’t hope to control. “It’s why I’ve been so reckless in the field, why I keep ending up in the med wing. I can’t shove it down anymore and it punctures me right through the goddamn heart when I see you surrounded by armed agents or when there’s a weapon aimed at you and my instinct is to run towards you. Screw what happens to me.

“I know you’re good at your job,” Bucky stressed, shaking his head. “I know you can handle yourself and you don’t need me to protect you but… but I want to. I want to keep you safe and hold your hand when you’re getting stitches and curl up beside you at night just so I can remind myself you’re real when the nightmares get the better of me. I want… I want more than I should.”

He could hear the skip in your heartbeat, how it gradually picked up in pace the longer he spoke. Your breathing was shorter, too. Shallower. Bucky was certain it was all confirmation of the story he’d been telling himself for years.

“This… How I feel… It’s not good for us. As friends. As partners. I’m trying to do us a favor and just remove myself from the equation.”

Bucky still had yet to meet your eye. He’d turned to examining every detail he could find on the fabric of your sleep shorts, in the sheets you sat upon, in the divots and dimples and blemishes on your thighs. He wasn’t sure he’d have the resolve to leave if he looked at your face.

Several beats of silence passed by and Bucky wondered how it was possible you hadn’t lashed out at him yet. He expected you to be angry for driving a wedge between you with something as reckless as love and affection. He expected you to turn your shoulder, reject him for everything he was, because it was one thing to befriend the Winter Soldier, another entirely to love him.

Bucky slowly rose back to his feet, letting his hand slip away from your knee and your gentle hold on him fell away. He mistook your silence for acceptance, maybe even agreement. He cleared his throat, starting to back up towards the door.

“So, um,” Bucky said nervously, trying to fill the silence in his escape, “that’s why. I hope you can forgive me some day for all of this. I’ll, uh, I’ll go.”

Bucky barely had his hand on the knob when he heard the soft squeak of your mattress springs as you rose to your feet.

“You’re wrong.”

The sound of your voice startled him, enough to get him to look back at you before he could stop himself. Your hands were clenched at your sides, eyes red with tears, bottom lip chewed raw.

“Y/n, I—”

“You’re wrong,” you said again, almost angry and somehow that was a relief. It would make it easier for him to leave if you were angry, but you had different plans. “You’re wrong if you think you’re doing me some kind of favor by leaving.”

Tears were on your cheeks now and Bucky’s stomach lurched. This wasn’t what he wanted. This was agony.

He took a step closer to you. “You have to trust me, it’s not a good idea for us to—”

“You’re wrong,” you continued, cutting him off again as you rubbed at the tears under your eyes. “You’re wrong to assume that I don’t feel the exact fucking way about you and—and if you leave, Bucky, I swear to God it will kill me.”

Bucky froze. His heart stopped beating completely, might have plunged down through his stomach, broken through the floorboards and buried itself into molten lava and dirt, because of all the things he was expecting you to say, that was not one of them.

“Don’t do this,” you implored, voice a little broken, barely above a whisper. “Please don’t go.”

Bucky was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t prepared for this. He never even considered you might beg him to stay, that you might feel for him in the way he felt for you. It never once crossed his mind. It felt like a dream.

“I miss you.” Your voice was so small and still, it nearly tore him straight in half. “I miss how we used to be. I miss seeing you smile and your stupid jokes at the most inappropriate times in the field.” You laughed to yourself, under your breath, and even through the tears it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. But you sighed, the smile falling away. “I miss you when you’re not here. All the time. So much it hurts. I feel like I’m going out of my mind when I’m not with you. You’re my best friend, but I… I also… I miss Munich.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and you only caught a glimpse of him for a second before your face was in your hands, trying to shield yourself from him.

“I know it’s wrong,” you murmured, muffled by your palms. “I know it’s not right to miss a moment when you were in pain and made to feel something you didn’t ask for, but… I think about it a lot and... how much I want more.”

Stunned silence. Throat dry. Heart pounding.

“What are you saying?” Bucky finally found the courage to ask.

You lifted your head, finally meeting his eye and there was a relief there as you looked up at him. Your shoulders eased. A soft smile returned to your lips and it nearly melted him completely.

“The same thing you are, I think.”

He swallowed. “Oh.”

Bucky watched, near frozen, as you crossed the room, bare feet padding softly over the carpet until you were only inches from him. The space between you closing as your hands slid up his arms, resting against his shoulders, cupping at the sides of his face, just observing, just feeling. There was no venom in his veins and yet, Bucky felt electrified under your touch. His heart stammered in his chest as your fingers wove at the strands of hair at the base of his neck.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you told him and he wondered for a moment if he stopped breathing entirely. "No Hydra chemicals. No foreign influence. Just us, okay? You and me.”

Bucky nodded, a little stunned.

Slowly, you inched up closer to him, your eyes drawing closed until you were a breath from his lips. Just barely grazing upon his own, waiting, and Bucky let his hands slid up against your back, tugging you closed against him, and captured your lips in his own.

It was different than the first time in Munich, less rushed, less desperate, but instead filled with a longing that had spanned years between you, coated in affection and heartache and need for one another beyond anything a serum in a lab could fabricate.

Your hands wove into his hair, his arms pressing you firm against his chest, and it was like you were holding onto him for dear life. Your feet began to carry the two of you backwards, dragging Bucky towards the bed, and you yelped as your knees caught on the edge of the mattress, sending the two of you spiraling onto the bed.

“You alright?” Bucky laughed, brushing away the hair in your eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows caged around your shoulders; most of his weight laying upon you in the sweetest comfort of pressure.

“I'm perfect,” you replied, bright smiles and joy radiating from every pore. It was contagious.

“We can stop here, if you want,” Bucky offered sincerely. He was riding a high he never thought he’d ever experience and anything you’d be willing to share with him was a gift within itself. He’d kiss you for hours if you’d let him.

“And if I don’t want to stop?” you questioned, staring up at him with a hunger in your eyes. Your fingers trailed down his t-shirt, dancing around the hem of the fabric at his hips. “If I wanted to keep going... If I wanted you...?”

“I’m yours, sweetheart.”

A simple answer. A true one. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.

Bucky knelt back, tugged on the fabric of his shirt between his shoulder blades and pulled it over his head. You watching him as he tossed it to the corner of the room before he settled back down against you. Your hands ran along the lines of his muscles, over the scars and imperfections, and for once, Bucky didn’t shy away from the hands of a woman. It didn’t feel like a twist to his gut, he didn’t hold his breath. No – instead, it felt renewing, healing almost.

His hands slid under the waist of your shirt, inching it higher as he rand his touch along the curves of your sides, until you leaned up for him to help remove the fabric. It joined his shirt at the edge of the room.

Perfect and bare. Stunning in your nakedness. A privilege he never thought he’d be granted.

“You want to take a picture or...?” you teased him, noticing how long he’d been staring at you.

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t temp me. Besides, I’m hoping I won’t need a picture to see you like this again.”

“Definitely not,” you confirmed, tugging him down to meet your lips again.

It was laced in smiled and laughter and ages of holding back from one another all rolled into one. A freedom of taking your time, of enjoying one another, and learning to memorize your bodies. Bucky would have wondered if he were dreaming if not for the way you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against his hardening cock – no dream could produce a feeling like that.

With his lips on your neck, Bucky played with the hem of your shorts, waiting until you lifted your hips just enough to give him the access to slid them down your legs, removing the last remaining fabric along with it.

Bucky kissed his way down your body, mapping a trail from your neck, to the hills of your breasts, to your ribs, to the comfort of cushion at your stomach, to the crevices at your legs and inner thighs. He paused for a moment, setting his cheek against your thigh as he drew his fingers between your lips, separating them to give access to the sweetest parts of you.

You flinched a little as he touched your clit, a gasp emitting from your lips as your hands curled into the sheets. Bucky grinned, encouraged by your reaction as he began to circle the pads of his fingers at your entrance. Listening for the subtle changes in your breath, the moans the slipped past, and the curl of your fingers, Bucky leaned in and wrapped his lips around your clit.

“F-fuck, Bucky,” you whined, hands snaking into his hair and gripping tight against his scalp.

He smiled at the feeling, at the way you cried his name, and he pressed his slicked fingers inside of you. Perhaps it was the haze of the foreign chemicals the last time he had you under him like this, but he didn’t remember you being so vocal, so sensitive to his touch. It was a rush and he had to keep himself from rutted up against the mattress as added a third finger, curling them just enough and massaging at the walls as they squeezed tight around him.

Tongue lapping at the wetness, sucking around the sensitive bud of nerves, fingers perfectly drawing out the high as it built at your core, it only took moments before you crashed. You cried out his name, legs wrestling against him in the sensitivity as he drew out the feeling as long as he could, moving slower and slower until you stilled under him.

“Fuck,” you exhaled, a laugh entranced in your voice.

Bucky grinned, pleased with himself as he crawled his way back up the bed to meet your lips. He didn’t bother to wipe the remnants of your high from his mouth and you didn’t seem to mind as you kissed him, certainly tasting yourself upon his lips, and it only made him want you more.

“You’re turn,” you smirked, trying to slide out from under him as you licked your lips, but Bucky held you down.

“Next time, okay?” he countered and you sunk back into the mattress with a pout on your lips. “I don’t think I can last if you get your mouth on me.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” you teased, running your fingers down his stomach until he began to shiver.

“Yes,” he chuckled, swatting your hands away playfully. He winked. “I’m gonna die if I don’t have you right now.”

“Jesus, Buck, don’t even joke,” you laughed, hiding your face in your hands.

“Hey, someone's gotta,” Bucky grinned as he tugged down his pants, kicking them off to land amongst the rest of the discarded clothing. “If it got me here, I’ll happily make light of a fucked up Hydra breeding experiment.”

“Would you have told me if it hadn’t happened?” you asked, voice a little softer, peering out from behind your hands.

Bucky stilled, his grin falling into something gentler and he shrugged. “Don’t know if I ever would have had the courage. I never thought we’d be here. Never could have imagined you’d feel the same way.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Would you have said anything?”

“I don’t think I really knew until you threatened to walk away,” you admitted.

“Well,” Bucky sighed, pressing a trail of kissed along your collarbone as he settled between your legs, his length pressing against your thigh, “good thing I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better not,” you murmured against his lips as you drew his mouth to yours.

Then, as he felt the hitch of your breath against his lips, he sank into you. Stretching walls and guiding your legs to wrap at his waist to offer an angle that left your jaw slacked. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips parted, and Bucky felt a rush unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Even through the smoke filled haze of that serum in Munich, he’d never felt an ounce of the relief as he did in this moment. To be completely and entirely yours.

He felt you squeeze at his shoulders, urging him to move, and slowly, he rocked his hips against you. Slow and steady. Needy. Until your nails dug into his spine and Bucky couldn’t prolong the tender build up any longer.

Chasing and chasing; higher and higher. Bucky could tell you were close from how tight your walls were clenched around him. It took near everything he had not to come on the spot, but he held on, waiting, watching as your lips parted, as the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard slipped past, and you cried out his name.

“Oh fuck—fuck—Bucky, don’t stop.” Your breath was hot against his cheek. “I’m so close. I’m—ah—”

A hitch in your breath and your whole body seemed to fall slack. It only spurred him on. Hips snapped, fingers rubbing quick circles at your clit, until you were whining and shaking under him, until he was satisfied with the blissful look on your face and he let himself go.

He spilled into you, rutting his hips in a few final, lazy thrusts as he sank into the crook of your neck, panting. Dizzy and content, riding a high that extended beyond his body, Bucky hummed into your collarbone as he felt your nails draw patterns along his back in gentle sweeps. It tingled on his skin, send shivers along his spine, and he never wanted it to stop.

“Hey, Y/n?”

You paused, just for a moment, before you resumed tracing the lines on his back, over muscles and scars alike. “Yes, Bucky?”

He could hear the teasing in your voice, the light-hearted laugh, the warmth that made him fall in love with you and his heart clenched. He wrapped his arms under your shoulders, the full weight of his body still pressing you down to the mattress, still buried inside of you.

“Promise me this is real.” An embarrassment crept up as he said it, though the drawing on his back didn’t skip a beat. “You and me. I’m not dreaming or stuck in my head. This is real, right?”

Your hands slid up along his shoulders to his neck, and then to the sides of his face as you guided him off your chest to meet your eye; more beautiful than he’d ever seen you, with a glimmer of sweat and an afterglow radiating in the smile lifting your cheeks.

“This is real, honey,” you told him, leaning in to kiss him sweetly on the lips.

“Okay. Okay, good.” Bucky grinned, cheeks flushed in heat. He settled back against your chest, resting his cheek to your heart as you resumed drawing the lazy patterns on his back.

Perfectly content.

Warm. Safe.

Home.

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