#Anyway I’ll stop yapping and start tagging

[kaymarrie]

you were born with stars in your eyes

[planetpedri]

franco colapinto where he’s talking about something and hasn’t stopped since buuuuut reader doesn’t seem to mind at all and only shifts her focus when something interrupts, like a phone call? love u and ur writing 🤍

Company — Franco Colapinto.

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is a talker, and you were a listener. Unfortunately, people seem to need you at the worst moments.

Word count: 390+

Disclaimer/s: fluff , franco yapping

A/N: AHHHH i love talkative!bf x listener!gf tropes.. my second franco post in 1 day hi!

You loved winter nights. You certainly hated the weather, but the nights themselves where you were laid up in bed with hot coca and a Christmas movie on? They were the best. Even better, was when your boyfriend was keeping you company.

One small downside to it was the movie got paused every two minutes due to Francos absolute need to talk out everything (not that you really minded).

“The thing I don’t understand is why he has the maturity level of a six year old, you know?” The brunette taps his lips as he speaks, his eyebrows furrowing. “And! How did they not kick him out of the North Pole faster just because of how annoying he is?”

You were watching Elf.

He was complaining about Elf.

And you let him. Because hearing your boyfriend speak was the best gift the world had ever granted you. The movie had been paused twenty-five minutes ago, yet he still hadn’t stopped.

A small, amused smile graced your lips as your head resting on his shoulder, tilted up to meet his gaze. You nod in understanding, humming a short, “right?”

“And the fact that they even allowed him into their home is unbelievable, I would never do that.” He was getting passionate now, his expression turning seriously distraught.

Just as he went to start speaking again, your phone rings on the bedside table. Franco’s mouth shuts, and the lack of speaking has a frown replacing your smile.

Letting out a huff of annoyance, you reach over to grab your phone. “Sorry, it’s my mom..”

“It’s okay, answer it.” He nods his head in the direction of your phone. “I’ll go reheat our cocoa.”

“Thank you!” You grin, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pressing the green button.

Seven minutes pass before Franco returns and you end the call with your mother. He slides back into bed, handing you your mug, “what did she need?”

“Just asked me how I was doing, I forgot to text her today.” You chuckle, “anyways, continue your rant?”

The brunettes eyebrows furrow, “Rant?”

“Uh, yeah, about Elf? Buddy?”

The faintest hint of recognition flashes across the boys eyes, “oooh! I forgot what I was saying. Hit unpause?” Although a bit disappointed, you do just that, cuddling into Franco’s side as his arm wraps around your shoulder and the movie began to play.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts specific or all.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Mine (All Mine)

Request: None A/N: Please enjoy some short smut and possessive!cooper. Nothing important otherwise :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, attempted SA, P in V sex, Cooper licking blood, 18+ MINORS DNI! Summary: Cooper doesn't share what's his, and he sure as hell doesn't let anyone take it by force.

Word Count: 2.4k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

“Keep walkin’!” 

You stumble over the rusty leg irons binding your feet. The slave trader yapping in your ear proceeds to shove you once again, but you bite your tongue. 

Nothing could ever just go according to plan. 

Running low on both Vials and sustenance, you’d led a hacking Cooper into the nearest town. It was desolate, but what town wasn’t in this age? You weren’t planning on staying long anyway; you just needed to get Cooper somewhere relatively safe and barter with whoever happened to be running the pharmacy that day.

Too bad the entire town was run by Slavers, up to and including the old Mister Handy running its dingy medical outpost. You were sedated and down before the inkling to fight ever came along, left to wake up in a wood cage with your hands and feet bound. 

You went hoarse from screaming pointlessly at your captors. Your wooden prison was sat carelessly in the open, unbearable heat beating down. The whipping wind ensured that sand found its way into every crevice. There was no doubt your skin was scorched from the sun.

And they left you there, until the sun set and you could hear the roar of a raucous crowd from the town center. 

Cooper was back there somewhere, probably having hacked up a lung in the empty shell of a house you’d broken into on the outskirts of town. You were careful to board the door back up when you left, and hoped no one had retraced your steps. 

“I said move! You fuckin’ deaf?” A Slaver grabs you painfully by the ear and yanks. “Bein’ deaf drops your price.”

The other women you’re chained to - in a single file line behind you with very little slack on the chains - cower in fear. You glare at the man and decide headbutting him is the best course of action, knocking your skull into the soft part of his nose. 

“Wish I was so I didn’t have to hear you run your mouth.”

The Slaver cracks his most-likely broken nose back into place and smirks. “Maybe I’ll buy you myself. Teach you a damn lesson.”

He turns away then, letting the rest of the guards lead you down a narrow alley between two buildings. Creaky wooden stairs greet you, and you step up them without hesitation. If nothing else, you’d give the Slavers no sense of satisfaction by putting fear on display. 

The town square has been converted into a makeshift stage and audience area, where tens of people sit, stand and holler as you’re all led on stage. They all hold small signs with numbers, and it doesn’t take you long to realize it’s an auction. 

They start with the woman farthest to your left, yelling out how many caps they deemed her worthy of. It continues down the row until the auctioneer, who you realize had four eyes total on his face, stops in front of you. 

“Mint condition, this one is.” He yells into the crowd and slaps a firm hand onto your shoulder. “How many caps for her?”

You try to keep up with the people throwing numbers out, but there’s too many faces and not enough ambient light to see them all. Eventually the auctioneer moves away, and you’re left to stand there. The other women are given the same treatment, until each of them is labeled with a price and effectively sold to the highest bidder. 

The auctioneer makes an announcement about cap exchange as the crowd is dissipating, but you’re still bound in chains. Your eyes dart around, looking for any unbecoming figures that come towards you. Men meet with the auctioneer one by one, and are slowly allowed to leave with their prizes. The women are a mix of cryers and defiers, some simply accepting their fate with tears in their eyes while others scream and thrash as they’re dragged off. 

You look to the auctioneer when it’s only you left, trying to figure out what was going on. One slaver makes his way to you, grabbing at the iron cuffs  to unlock them. 

“Nah, man. Leave her cuffed.”

The slaver in front of you grins at the one who’d spoken. Coincidentally, the same whose nose you’d broken minutes ago. He steps into your field of view, and you realize he wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d buy you. Ice-cold terror flows through your veins at the helplessness of being cuffed, but you refuse to show it.

“Nasty, huh? Just how I like 'em’.”

Broken Nose grabs you by the collar and yanks you close enough that you can smell the teeth rotting out of his mouth. “Oh, I’m gonna like it. That’s for sure.”

In what is probably a poor choice, you spit in his face. Just like the headbut, it was impulsive and split-second. You don’t regret it, but you realize it’s not a great idea. Regardless, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. 

Unfortunately for you, now he’s not worried about damaging goods before a sale. The slaver backhands you, and the force sends you tumbling to the ground. You’re struggling to your hands and knees, tangled in ridiculously long chains and fumbling with your cuffs. Broken Nose kneels in front of you and grabs you by the neck. 

“Need a lesson in manners, huh?” He growls. 

You take your first good look at him. He’s probably ten years older than yourself, with yellowing teeth and greasy black hair that hangs in a stringy manner around his face. The bridge of his nose is bruised, yellow and purple all over. Dried blood is still caked around his mouth. 

“Fuck you.” 

He finally snaps, and grabs a hold of the chains. You’re dragged off the stage and pushed into the darkness of the alleyway. One fist latches into your hair, and the other replaces itself around your throat. 

“We’ll start here.” He shakes you, bringing your face within centimeters of his. “When I say something, you fuckin’ listen!” 

You’re on the ground before you know it, and large hands grab at the old leather belt around your waist. You kick and thrash to the best of your ability while bound, screaming like a banshee. The slaver manages to pin you down and crawl over top, one hand fumbling with the zipper of his pants while the other holds your cuffed wrists down. The sound of belts jangling encourages you to fight more, and you thrash upwards. He might be bigger than you, but he’s a sloppy fighter and lets one of your wrists slip free. 

Without hesitation, you swing the iron cuff and chain as hard as you can into his face. 

“Agh! You’re a dead bitch, you know that?” He stumbles to the side, leaning against a building for support and clutching his now-bleeding forehead. His pants hang loose, dirty boxers on display.

You’re on your back, covered in both your blood and his. Your chest heaves, and you stare down your would-be assaulter. 

“Y’know, I missed that last exchange.” A familiar drawl echoes from the back of the alley. “You mind repeatin’ it, boy?”

The Slaver snorts. “You want some? Go ahead and try. She’d be better off in the fuckin’ ground.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d have to try.” Spurs clank down the empty alleyway from behind you, “Somethin’ tells me she’d come willingly.”

The Ghoul stands firm in his place, hand hovering over his gun like an old western standoff. Your head drops to the ground in relief. The slaver, though, looks more and more irritated by the moment. He glares at the Ghoul who’s now only a few feet behind you.

“Fuckin’ ghoul.” Broken Nose growls, and pulls a pistol. “Why don’t you get lost?”

Cooper takes a few more steps forward, sidestepping your body. The Slaver keeps the gun level with him. “‘Fraid I can’t do that.”

“Oh yeah?” The slaver gestures wildly with his pistol. “Why’s that?”

The Ghoul darts forward like a puma, ducking the shot that’s fired at him. You see a knife glint in the dim light, and hear it cut through flesh. 

“‘Cause nobody touches what’s mine.”

A flash of heat shoots through you in spite of the circumstances. You watch Broken Nose fall to the ground, barely alive as blood gushes from a gash across his neck. Cooper’s knife drops from his hand, falling to blood-stained dirt. He turns to you slowly. 

“You alright?”

He’s covered in blood, obviously pissed off, and has never been more attractive. 

“Fantastic.” You breathe. The fiery determination and blatant possessiveness on display by the Ghoul shoot bolts of want straight to your cunt. 

The Ghoul steps over Broken Nose’s legs to get to you. His eyes are dark, but do a once over to check you for injuries. 

“He touch you?” Cooper’s drawl is thick. So much so that it almost twists his words into a snarl. 

You push yourself to sit up. “Not anywhere delicate.”

Cooper hums and uses your chains to pull you up. Your legs are sore from kicking, and arms raw from the cuffs. “Whatta ‘bout this?”

You look down as he reaches to you and fiddles with the unfastened belt. His hands linger at the button of your jeans, tugging at the fabric. 

“Oh, he tried.” You shiver as Cooper’s fingers  dance over the skin of your stomach. “But I wouldn’t let him.”

His leather gloves fist into your shirt and yank you close. You trip over the chains and fall into his chest. 

“Damn right.” His breath washes over your ear. “Nobody touches you like that but me.”

You’d be lying if you said wetness didn’t gather between your legs faster than a speeding bullet. Cooper’s eyes jotted town towards your dangling belt once more before he used your bounds to spin you back against the wall. One of his knees jammed between your thighs, and his hands landed heavily on either side of your head. 

You wet your lips as he hovers mere centimeters away. The Ghoul’s eyes are transfixed on your chest and stomach, where your white tank top is bared and covered in red stains. He lowers a hand to brush up your stomach, between your breasts and through rivulets of crimson. It’s immediately stuck into his mouth, and you moan shakily as his tongue darts out to taste your attacker’s blood. 

Cooper turns his head and spits. “Slavers always taste foul.” 

You readjust yourself on his knee to send pleasant waves of heat to your core. “Cooper Howard?”

He looks down at you, hat brim drawn low on his brow and desire burning bright in his eyes. There’s a bulge visible just below his belt that makes you salivate. 

“What could you possibly want, darlin’?” His marred face leans in close, lips brushing your ears. Teeth nip at your earlobe, “Couldn’t be to fuck right here in the open where you was attacked by some other fella, now is it?”

Now, you know that sentence should give you pause. 

However, this world is fucked beyond belief. 

You whimper out your answer, and the Ghoul continues his steady ministrations down your neck and in that sensitive spot behind your ear. With your hands bound, you can’t do much more than tangle your fingers in his shirt and hold. 

When he resurfaces, your neck is wet with saliva and sweat.

“I’ll take care of you, babydoll.” He purrs. “Right here, right now. You just gotta do one thing for me.”

You fist your hand in his shirt, but are surprised to find the cuffs slipping away after he fumbles with them for a moment. A quick glance shows him pocketing a key, but you’re too worked up to focus on one thing for too long. 

“What do I gotta do?”

You really don’t mean to sound so desperate, but something about Cooper always has you heated and dripping as soon as he initiates anything intimate. 

“Just tell me.” He grunts as you tug at his belt with newly freed hands. “Who do you belong to?”

Oh, you’re fucked.

“You. Fuck, I belong to you.” You gasp as you free him from his pants. “I want you to use me to get off.”

A scarred hand wraps tight around your neck and forces your head upwards. “Damn straight.”

It takes no time to yank your pants low enough for him to enter you. You’ve flipped so your front side is pinned to the building, legs spread. Cooper takes long, slow thrusts at first before picking up the pace. Large, strong hands hold your hips steady. You brace yourself with your hands, moaning in time with his thrusts. He’s stable throughout, only growling pet names into your ear when you let out a whine. The Ghoul begins to stagger when he’s close, and it’s not long before you feel his release coating your walls and dripping out onto the dirt. 

You don’t realize how unstable and sore your legs are until he’s sliding out of you, filthy noises following. His cock pulses against your swollen slit before you fully collapse. 

“Easy now.” Cooper catches you, one hand attempting to fasten himself back into his jeans, “Seems that we gotta go back to camp, huh?”

Your mind is alight with want for him, and you whine in his absence. “Coop, please.”

“Oh no need to beg, sugar.” He fixes your pants as well, “I plan on taking good care of you when we get there.”

Back at camp, he fulfills his promise and more. 

You beg and plead for your release, and it’s granted with enthusiasm. 

And after it’s done, you both ache for sleep, to rest sore muscles and heal new bruises. Some from fights, and others from passion. A blanket of stars coerces you to shut your eyes, and you’re helpless to resist. This night could have ended much differently - namely, with a bullet in your head- so you think about how grateful you are to have the legendary Ghoul at your side, protecting you on your shared journey for the truth. Willing to fight through his own suffering and dependencies to keep you safe in spite of his rocky exterior. 

You like to think he’s a big teddy bear, but you didn’t dare put it out into the world while in his vicinity.

The thoughts are fleeting, and you fall into oblivion while tucked into the side of vengeance itself. It’s a place many others, even in this hellscape of a Wasteland, wouldn’t dare to get near. 

The big, bad Ghoul.

And he’s all mine.

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[ace-turned-confused]

2024 fanfic wrapped 🗓️

ty for tagging me @burntheedges :) @sixhours made this fabulous canva template !!!!! pics and yapping below

OKAY SO wow. i added all these numbers together manually bc i only have like two things up on ao3 rn. i've included wips that i WILL be posting in my words written bc well..... i've written the words, and i included chapters in my fics posted.

i started writing towards the end of last year as a challenge to myself to see if i could do it, and... well here we are. that original fic is objectively trash and will never be uploaded but i think it's safe to say my writing's improved since then. i posted my first real fic on april 22 even tho now i think THAT is trash lmao thinking "oh i probably won't write a lot else". girl be fr once i put that man in one situation i just couldn't stop myself.

this year's been a weird one where i became self aware of my frontal lobe beginning to enter it's final stages of development, and i've met so many kind, funny, amazing, beautiful, slaytastic people on this weird ass app who have made life so much more enjoyable <3 life really is worth living when you can be yourself and enjoy the things you enjoy. to be cringe is to be free. amen.

anyways ew enough sappy shit. np tagging some pookies :) i’ll add a pic of my cat at the end for your troubles

@evolnoomym @milla-frenchy @mermaidgirl30 @joelmillerisapunk @morallyinept

@guiltyasdave @ameerawrites @oonajaeadira @604to647 @mrsmando

@yopossum @joelspeach @sawymredfox @beefrobeefcal @luxurychristmaspudding

@mountainsandmayhem @sanarsi @djarins-cyare @whocaresstillthelouvre @clawdee

@almostempty @cavillscurls @bitchesuntitled @sizzlingcloudmentality @strang3lov3

[moltenwrites]

Thanks @nczaversnick for the tag!

I got tagged for a character name origins tag, but I did that very recently, and the post also mentioned talking about the characters origins, which I’ll gladly yap about!

The Artist

Gotta be honest, it feels odd that Ive BARELY talked about the artist here considering how important they are to How Our World Ended. The Artist is a God who can create universes, and observes them

The artist is a literal outline of a person, with a white line covering their eyes. They exist within a black void, as a result of destroying their own universe. The origin for this character is odd, and many years old, but I’ll try to get a good timeline.

Initially, they were just a character for me to project negative thoughts onto. Then, the idea of them being a creator of universes came into my mind. They were first put into a story during a OLD assignment which I unfortunately do not have access to anymore. While it was bad, it solidified the character in my mind. And they always stayed in the back of my mind, untill I came up with How Our World Ended. And considering how important they are to the ending, and hell, the universe of Souls Collide, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them ( random note, but I feel like the watcher from What If was a big inspiration of the concept )

RES

Ugh, so this one is a littttle embarrassing. A lot of my older ideas have evolved a lot, and that includes the early stages where they were inspired by some…. Odd stuff ( you don’t wanna know how souls collide itself started )

Anyways, if I remember right, I always liked the idea of doing a more medieval fantasy story. Souls Collide takes place in current times, so that line of thought was always an interesting thought experiment. Anyways, in 2021 I was watching the game awards because I had nothing better to do. I was kinda zoning out, untill the live performance of the song enemy started playing. And as it played, the premise of How our World Ended, or at least a rough outline, hit me. And as time went on, more music inspired more about the story. Hells coming with me by Poor Man’s Poison gave me an idea for a second half of the story that was, admittedly, terrible. But the ending, that was cool, and it stayed. That song also gave me the rough outline of what I wanted Res to be. A revenge fueled fire soul was how he initially was gonna be. But as time went on, a lot changed. I changed him to be an ice soul, as the protagonist of souls collide is already a fire soul, and I didn’t want to overlap that. Then, Res became more fueled by grief. Now, Res is cold and calculated. He works as a vigilante of sorts, and is far more caring once he gets to know someone.

Oof- that was long, I’ll do a quick lighting round of origins that are WAY shorter.

Salazar

Two big inspos for this guy. Firstly, I always wanted to do something similar to the organization 13 from kingdom hearts. Salazar, and his past in the council of fate, was initially gonna fill that role. Over time, the council shrunk and that role more fell to the gods. Then, for his explicit personality, it was heavily inspired by moon waltz by cojum dip. Something about it just fit the guy, and me misinterpreting the wrestling mask of the album cover as a masquerade mask 100% shaped both his chilling personality and his design

Nelios

Okay I think this one is just funny. So, I didn’t plan this book well. At all. I kinda just went “ fuck it “ and let it happen. That’s why the first draft is VERY rough atm. Anyways, Nelios wasn’t originally in the story at all. I was just gonna name drop him, and maybe give him a scene or two, but when I wrote a full chapter of him, I loved him so much, he became VITAL to the story. His personality came from a mix of “ how can I make an arrogant asshole likable? “ and “ how can one make this guy a fun ass character to write “

Okay I rambled for WAYYY to long there, but I have a lot to say haha. Anyways, tag list time.

Tagging @aintgonnatakethis @ddgraywrites @jjoneswriting @revenantlore @noxxytocin @yourpenpaldee @illarian-rambling @theverumproject @autism-purgatory @gioiaalbanoart @the-letterbox-archives

@mk-writes-stuff

+ OPEN TAG

[teamfortraven]

One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen is when I posted that initial ler!tv man comic and the t-word tag for him blew up in a few days and now I see content for him EVERYWHERE. Good to know it’s spreading like the plague and everyone sees him for the ticklish little picture box he is (also terrifying ler which I plan on drawing more of next because the hyperfixation is strong and the lee mood is insatiable.) I also have had a fic in the works for a good month now, about half-way finished, so I’ll wrap that up soon. Kind of regret not drawing for this blog when I first made it because I was afraid of people recognizing my art style but at this point I don’t really care anymore, if people think it’s weird that’s their problem, like sorry my trauma made me touch starved? None of their business.

Also since people were genuinely giving me advice about iron deficiency yesterday I would like to update I have started taking a vitamin for that and also am eating an egg before I go into work today 👍 like when I was drawing that comic this morning I readjusted in my chair and my whole body started shaking so uhh that wasn’t good. Trying to fix that now that I finally recognize why I’m fatigued all the time.

Anyways I’ll stop yapping I just felt like I should post something more than a comic/fic and like 3 sentences for once, I’m not afraid to let people know more about me on this blog anymore. This community is so caring with one another it’s hard not to open up.

[lqfiles]

user lqfiles i have no idea what to call you.

see saying "hello tumblr user lqfiles" sounds ominous and it's giving sigma... god i hate that word. i have beef with the gen alpha slang, everytime i hear a reel with "what the sigma" i grow a little closer to throwing that toaster right into the bathtub. ANYWAYS, my point is that i'm going to figure out how to come up with a nickname for you. it'll come, eventually trust. i'll think of one okay. something to do with l & q idk. unless there's something else you want me to call you? ALSO NOOO IM NOT RICH. 😭😭 as i mentioned before i bought like... 3x the amount of pcs i OWNED BEFORE i went on a buying spree. so all i had was just the pcs i collected from albums that were gifts from friends... (i never thought it a good idea to spend money on this stuff for myself.) I was actually traveling abroad which was why i hadn't checked in for a bit, and the prices... were just so much cheaper!! So I decided, why not? fuck it we ball! (my life motto to everything at this point...) and i'm in a decent financially stable point in my life where i can indulge in this stuff, so i bought quite a bit... i tried to focus on buying pcs... cause storing albums in my suitcase makes it a lot heavier.

i definitely have a hand kink its not a joke anymore. IT REMINDED ME OF THIS IMAGE (idk if it's going to work if it doesn't uh.... ignore! cause i've never sent links on anon and tumblr hates making things easier for us.) https://postimg.cc/1gWC0B48 AND IDK IF YOU CAN SEE IT BUT ITS SO FUNNY I COULDNT STOP LAUGHING. they're both me

i also have no idea who louis partridge is BUT HOLY FUCKING SHIT I JUST LOOKED HIM UP AND GOD DAMN. like my taste in men is obviously questionable, and like most people i did have a thing for andrew garfield and theo james... but i think i often find myself crushing on east asians half of the time, mostly because i am eastern asian myself, and it's not like on purpose cause i do find other races hot, it's just the way i grew up finding famiiarity in those faces? does that make sense idk im yapping at this point.

ALSO THE SMAU IS SO FUNNY IM CAUGHT UP NOW.... HAECHAN LITERALLY GOING THROUGH ALL STAGES OF GRIEF. HE WANTS HER SO BAD BUT ALSO THE COMPLAIN ABOUT THE WHOLE PINTREST BROWSING.... LIKE HES SO REAL AND CUTE AT THE SAME TIME I LOVE HIM. (chatgpt is too real AND THE FACT THAT y/n IS EATING IT UP IS SO FUNNY LIKE I WOULD'VE ALREADY BEEN LIKE.... why does this sound like it's written by ai...) holy fuck that's a lot i ranted a lot anyways hello, look forward to the next chapter. love you and hope u have a great day TUMBLR USER LQFILES - 🤠

hejdhskdj sometimes i’m tempted to put my name back in my about me so you guys can put a name to my account but then i remember how don’t wanna be perceived THAT much and rethink #SOZZZZ idk maybe i’ll come up with a new alias that you can start addressing me by, tho if you’re curious you can figure my name out if you find my main blog and check my tags 😭

you’re gonna hate me omgg bc except for the word sigma (cos that cringe) i unfortunately love brainrot content atm… like yess give me the skibidi toilet rizz party, give me the ohio fanum tax, GIVE ME RHE MAXIMUM AURA 😅😂 the effect of living with little boys..

FUXK IF WE BALL IS SUCH AN AMAZING LIFE MOTTO like exactly.. we are ballin.. anyways you not spending any money yourself on albums is sending me lmaooo but at least you were able to use the money you had saved to buy yourself some cheeky pcs. tbh i think pcs are the only appealing part for most part when buying an album anyways so it’s a good thing that you didn’t buy albums lmaooo

THE IMAGE IS SHOWING LMAOOOO i love this pic so bad ughhh he has such nice hands i wish i could hold his hands and play with them.. the perfect mix between girly dainty hands and manly veiny like I WANXTHU SO BAD HAECHAN

MOST PEOPLE MUST NOT INLCUDE ME… but tbh i don’t think i have a specific race i like in men, THO IM IN MY ARABIC BOYS ERA RN… idk if anyone knows slushynoobz but hamza.. i wantchu saaaur bad like GIVE ME THE YEMENI BOY.. also i don’t think it’s weird to prefer your own people!!! its something a lot of cultures have too so don’t worry about it you’re not yapping, my mum is the same 😭

LOLLLL HAECHAN EXPERIENCES THE LOSS OF HIS UNOFFICIAL GF he was probably with his head in his hands when she didn’t respond to his apex request. and ntm he tweaked the letter a bit to make it more personalised!!! a bit of ai here and there but still personal!!!!

I LOVE YOU TOOO COWBOY ANON!!!

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: 877 Rating: G, probably, mild T at best AU: Werewolf (possibly others?)

----------

Author’s Note: It’s AU August, which is something in which I’ve not often participated, but adore the idea. Recently, @lonelypond tagged me to choose a prompt, which resulted in this lovely work. At least I assume it’s lovely based on the author’s prior work; I haven’t had a chance to read it, but intend to do so later today.

Anyway, the list has been simmering in the back of my mind for a few days. And I had a silly idea for a Cryptid Theater prompt as I walked to the kitchen for some water after waking up wa~y to early this morning. Then I couldn’t stop thinking about it and couldn’t get back to sleep. So I got back up and wrote this. And here is the sleep deprived, decaffeinated result.

Notes edited with credit to @daily-nicotine

----------

“I can’t believe you would do this to me!” Nico fumed as she paced around the dressing room.

“Whatever do you mean, Nicocchi?” Nozomi inquired innocently.

“Don’t play coy with me!” Nico paused to point. “You recommended this… this circus to me!”

“I did.” Nozomi confirmed. “As your agent, I thought this role would suit my client perfectly.”

“You mean you saw an opportunity to make fun of me.” Nico growled back.

Nozomi donned a hurt expression. “You don’t like the production?”

“It’s a joke!” Nico declared. “The whole thing is one big joke! I mean of course it is. A show about werewolves titled ‘Putting on Hairs’?! What else could it possibly be but a horrible, B-rate comedy? Or tragedy more like.”

“I thought the title was amusing.” Nozomi admitted.

“Ughn!” Nico threw up her hands and started pacing again. “This was supposed to be my breakout role! But instead, I’m stuck quipping about knees bending the wrong way during transformation! I mean that’s not even true!”

“You would know.”

“Of course, I would know! That’s my point!” Nico shook her head. “You would think nobody in this whole production has ever met an actual werewolf. Or anything else for that matter. I mean of course real vampires don’t sparkle. Gods, I hate Hollywood.”

“Well, you’re not exactly admitting everything to everyone yourself, now are you.” Nozomi pointed out.

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t work like this.”

“Mm?”

“This whole thing is a mockery of who I am.” Nico groused. “And don’t even get me started on that spoiled brat of a costar.”

“I thought she was nice.”

“Nice?! Did we meet the same person?”

“She’s also quite talented.”

“Well yeah, she’d have to be to get into a school like Waseda. Unless her mommy and daddy just bought her way into that place.”

“Money may have secured her enrollment,” Nozomi conceded “and her family’s influence certainly made connections for obtaining roles like this. But I’ve done my research, her skills are her own.”

“Well maybe she should just take my role and I can get out of this whole ordeal.”

“I’d say give it a chance. Give her a chance.” Nozomi pulled something out of her shirt. “I have a feeling good things are coming.”

“You and your cards.” Nico rolled her eyes. “Put that away. And button up. Geez.” As she was about to make another round, her gaze found one of the outfits that was to be fitted for her. “Oh, and have you seen this mess?” She paused to hold up the garment. “Where did they find this? It looks like a kindergartener’s first arts and crafts project.” She tugged at a tuft of fur. “Seriously, Teen Wolf had better material for crying out loud.”

Heating up again, Nico stomped the first few steps in her circle. For her part, Nozomi watched in calm amusement, waiting for what she knew would eventually occur.

Sure enough, the strap of Nico’s top slipped off as her shoulders narrowed. Then her skirt began to slide. However, the actress was too lost in her tantrum to notice. Of course, having done this very routine dozens of times before, Nico subconsciously stepped out of everything as if it was part of her plan. Within moments, the young woman had shrunk down entirely and what was left prancing was a pretty little Pomeranian.

Nozomi held back a chortle as the fluffball yapped away, still not having noticed her transformation.

A knock sounded at the door.

That startled Nico into realizing her state and she scampered behind a chair to hide.

“Come in Maki-chan.” Nozomi called.

“How… did you know it was me?” A young redhead asked, slowly opening the door.

Nozomi merely smiled in return.

Maki raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue. “Anyway, I thought I heard… barking?”

Now Nozomi laughed. “Maki-chan has good ears. Do you like dogs?”

Maki tilted her head with confusion. “I don’t dislike them.” She responded. “But I was hoping to ask Yazawa-san something about our roles? Is she here?”

“As if you don’t already know.” Nozomi smirked.

“What do you…”

“You can come out, Nicocchi.” Nozomi called. “Maki-chan’s here to talk.”

“What are you…”

Nozomi moved around the chair, stooped and scooped up the dog from behind it. Nico immediately began to growl and nipped at the arms holding her.

“Here you go.” Nozomi held out the fuzzy football toward Maki.

“Eh?” Maki balked.

Nozomi sighed. “I know you’re both actresses, good ones at that, but you can stop pretending you didn’t already sense each other.”

Nico stopped squirming and let herself be handed off to a still somewhat reluctant Maki.

“But, you’re… not like me…” Maki leaned in a little toward Nozomi “or her.” She indicated Nico.

“Nope. I’m not.” Nozomi nodded.

“Then how…?”

“I have my ways.”

“Hrm…”

“Anyway, I’ll let you two have your chat.” Nozomi slipped past Maki but paused in the doorway. “Oh, Nicocchi won’t be able to change back until she calms down a bit. Perhaps try sitting with her in your lap and petting her?”

“Buweehh?” Maki almost dropped Nico.

Nozomi giggled and was gone, leaving behind a flummoxed Maki to figure out how to talk with her apparent cryptid costar.

----------

Author’s Note Continued: So there we have it. It may feel like an introduction to something bigger, but for the time being, I’m calling this one and done. Maybe someday I’ll come back and expand on this with cheesy tropes and Hollywood mockery, but I have far too much of a backlog of ideas that I want to write for my current ongoing projects.

Also, the idea for Pomeranian Nico is shamelessly stolen from... someone I follow on Tumblr.* I’m about to pass out in my chair, so I’ll have to search for that later, but preemptive thanks to the individual who posted about that months ago.

And finally, no, I did not decide what type of cryptid or monster or whatever Maki is. Maybe she’s another werewolf. Maybe she’s a vampire. I dunno, and honestly, it’s not important for the sake of this little bit. Whatever she is, I hope Nozomi made it clear that she and Nico can sense that neither are normal humans, so she’s not spilling their secrets here; they already know. And Nozomi herself is... Nozomi; probably a witch or some other spiritual/magical/whatever human type.

Edit: *lonelypond located the original post for Pomeranian Nico, or woofnic as she is adorably tagged. Thank you lonelypond for the link and thank you daily-nicotine for the wonderful art and inspiration.

[realityhelixcreates]

Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 9: Magic Carpet Ride

Chapters: 9/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use

Characters:  Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of  Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He  Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses,  Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary:  Loki, paragon of self-sacrifice, must face down a cultural taboo.

Loki stared ruefully at the little bottle of pills on the table in front of him.

“You've got to be kidding me.” he said, “Your weak mortal medicine will have no affect on me.”

Tony Stark shrugged. “Works on Cap.”

“I am not your Captain Rogers. We are worlds apart.”

“The guy's a never ending science experiment. We had to develop insanely strong meds for him because, in the event that he actually managed to get hurt, our strongest stuff couldn't help him. But I have it on good authority that this'll do the trick. That authority being your brother. King of Asgard.”

Loki glared in scandalized disbelief. “You are telling me Thor actually took one of these?”

“Took some persuading, but yeah. After he came back down, he was pretty sure they'd work on you too, despite your differences.”

Loki's eyes flicked to you, then back to Stark, then to the bottle. “Hold your tongue. We don't need to discuss this any further. I will not poison myself at your command.”

“It's not poison!” Stark insisted. “It's a painkiller and anti-inflammatory. It will help you heal.”

“You cannot expect me to degrade myself for your convenience.”

“No, I expect you to lie for your convenience.” Stark shot back. “Though I don't see how hiding this from me,” he gestured at the chair, the neck brace, “actually helped you at all. You don't get anything out of it. Anyway, you really need to start cooperating if you want to stay. I'm trying to be lenient, but the more you complicate things, the more likely it is you'll be discovered. I think we all agree that would be bad.

As for you, if you want to come back downstairs and rejoin society, we've always got space for you” he said to you. “The baristas have been asking after you.”

“No!” Loki burst, “If I must befoul myself with your medicines to retain my lodgings, then I require her assistance to oversee things while I am...impaired.”

It had been an accident. Or rather, a lapse in personal judgment. You had left Loki after dressing him one morning, to fix breakfast, and Stark had shown up. And because he was your boss, and owned the building, you had just let him in. That's right, you had helped out the landlord. Your parents would be ashamed of you. You were ashamed.  

And the silent fury Loki had been radiating when he wheeled out into the seating area and Stark had gotten a look at him as he really was made you surprised that he wanted to keep you around at all.

Stark had given him an exasperated earful, and then left, coming back this morning with a bottle full of small pills. You couldn't even come close to pronouncing the complicated name on the label, but from what Stark was saying, they were the kind of thing that should never be taken by a normal person. Not if they had been made with Captain America in mind. Not if they were powerful enough to string out Thor.

You were surprised Loki was even pretending to go along with this, considering the cultural attitudes to chemical medicines in Asgard. Really, you fully expected him to order you to throw the pills away once Stark left.

When you brought him his tea, he sighed deeply, his expression a mask of utter melancholic resignation.

“Crush one of those accursed pills into a powder and add it to the tea.” he said woefully. “Stay by me as I suffer this indignity. Be forgiving of any upcoming transgressions, I implore you.”

“Hey, I'm sure it won't be that bad.” you said, grabbing a cooking spoon, and carefully breaking the pill down into a fine powder with the handle. “It won't stay in your system for very long. Your body will filter it out and flush it away, and you'll be clean again.”

You brushed the powder into his teacup, and stirred until it dissolved. Then you handed it over to Loki, who stared into the cup morosely.

“Won't it be good to not be in pain, even just for a little while?”

“I thought that many times, when I was in the clutches-” He stopped abruptly. “I've thought that many times. It is always denied to me somehow. There's always a catch.” He took a long sip of the tea, and sighed again. “And so I am tainted. At least the tea doesn't taste any different. You are getting better at that.”

“Here, have a muffin.” you offered him your freshest creation. “It says on the bottle that you're supposed to take it with food.”

He accepted the muffin with all the graveness of a prisoner at his last meal, but he thanked you graciously, and stopped you when you started to leave his side.

“I will be rendered a senseless fool by this foul poison. You must stay close, so that I do not do something utterly moronic, like throwing myself from the balcony on the assumption that I can fly. I might not actually survive in my situation, and I dislike long falls anyway.”

“You're scared of heights?” you asked, scarcely able to believe it.

“No,” he said haughtily, “I dislike long falls. It is different.”

“Why do they bother you?”

“That is personal.”

“I've seen your dick.” you pointed put.

“You would not be the first.” he said, matching you for vulgarity.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Do you want more tea?”

Loki glanced into his empty teacup, bemused to see the bottom.

“Yes, I suppose I would.” he said, setting it down for you.

He had tried to teach you the fine art of pouring tea, and you had finally managed to do it without dribbling, but, as Loki put it, you also did it without grace. He didn't say anything this time, just tightened his lips in a sarcastic way, and took a sip.

At least you knew how to make tea to his specifications. It wasn't difficult, once you had figured it out. Just measurements and timing.

He had devoured his muffin, so you brought him another. Loki was extremely particular about flavors; not adventurous at all. Even banana nut offended his senses. But cream cheese met his approval in every application so far, even if he did complain about the texture of bagels.

“You'll have to get me an Asgardian cookbook, if this keeps up.” you said. “I might be able to whip you up something that reminds you of home.”

“I do not necessarily always want to be reminded of home.” Loki said. “And some of our dishes take many hours, even days to make. I need you for more than that. You cannot be in the kitchen at every moment.”

You would never admit it to anyone, but you got a surge of secret pleasure every time Loki said that he needed you. You'd always enjoyed hearing it from others, but it was so much better coming from a god.

Though it did make you wonder if the isolation up here was messing with your head a bit.

“Besides,” he continued, “enough cheese, bread, and meat will approximate the diet well enough. Asgardians have high metabolisms, and require many calories, and so do I. Our active lifestyles tend to make us big eaters as well, although I do not get my usual exercises these days.”

“If you would actually give yourself the time to relax and heal, you might be able to get back to that sooner.”

“Yap, yap, you nag like a bratty lapdog.” He scorned. Your eyebrows skyrocketed.

“Well gee,” you said with exaggerated shock, “if you don't want me here, just go ahead and say so. I'll go downstairs and be a barista.”

“No, you cannot leave me!” There was a distinct waver in his voice. “I will be polite. You won't leave me, will you? I didn't mean it.”

“Loki.” you said, suddenly feeling guilty. He sounded like a scolded little boy, on the verge of tears. “I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry about that. You should be more polite though.”

He reached out gracefully and took your hand.

“Dear lady...” he began, his words slightly slurred, and you finally realized that the medicine was taking effect.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, filling his tea again.

“Strange.” he said. “I feel light, but like there is a weight upon my eyes. Light, but like I cannot lift my limbs. One with this chair. Melting into the floor. I do not hurt...it's been so long...”

He really was starting to tear up.

You took his tea from his trembling hand and grabbed up a tissue.

“Here you go.” you said, dabbing his eyes gently. “Go ahead and enjoy it. Pain shouldn't be an everyday thing for you, if it doesn't have to be. You don't have to feel bad for enjoying a little bit of peace.”

“No, you don't understand. I don't deserve this. The pain was at least something familiar. I don't recognize this feeling. This lightness. It doesn't feel real.”

“Well, you are real, and I am real, and the medicine is real. The feeling is the medicine acting on your perceptions, so it's kinda real, it's just different than usual, that's all.” you patted his hand, and he grabbed for yours.

“Will this feeling go away?”

“Of course!” you laughed, “don't worry, this is just temporary. It will help your neck, and when you're healed, you won't have to take it anymore.”

“What if I can't stop?” he asked. “I am...not good at refraining from...indulgence.”

“If no one brings you anymore, what could you do about it?”

“If I am healed enough to remove this brace? To move about freely? What could I not do about it?”

“You know, that's a good point. I think we'll have to find you some of that ultra-powerful super weed the cops keep saying totally exists, but no one else seems to be able to find.”

He gave you a sideways stare. “More poisons?”

“It's to help free you from the other poison. But there are multiple strategies for getting clean, if that really becomes a problem. It's not like I've never seen addicts before; I'll help you if you need me.”

He reached for your hand again, and missed.

“Blessed thing.” he blabbered. “You are a draught of Alfar wine, brewed under the starlight. The fresh breeze through the forests of Vanaheim, just after sunrise. You are the faithful moon, pure as gold.”

“And you are high as balls.” you teased, bashful about the flowery praise. You really shouldn't be pledging any more of yourself, but the allure  of being needed-wanted even, was as addictive as any drug.

“You are the only once who may see.” he said. “I want no one else to see me like this. Stark especially. None save you may witness my dishonor.”

“Loki,” you mock-scolded, “if you keep looking at it like that, you'll impede your own progress. You'll fight it subconsciously, and just slow your healing down.”

“How, pray tell, should I look at it then?” he asked.

You took his hand, which was still waving around after yours.

“Look at it as permission. Permission to relax, to let the guard down and just exist for a while. You have everything you need right here, you can just be. It's okay to take some time to just be.”

“Just be what though? What is worth it for me to be?”

You shrugged. “A prince?”

“In exile.”

“A god?”

“Blasphemed rather than worshiped.”

“How about...my master?”

He squirmed a little in his chair.

“I could perhaps do that effectively.” he said quietly.

[ardentmuse]

For your follower thing, can I get Merlin and number 6? Kill me. Kill me. Kill me?

A Better Beauty

Kingsman - Merlin x Reader

6. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.

Wordcount: 1.4k 

Warnings: creeps being creeps, but generally just fluff

Masterlist

A/N: Thanks for the request love, so good to see you in my inbox :) I love my Kingsman husband and his rare moments of silliness. This quote is perfect for him.

The large framed glasses you are wearing upon your face slide down the brim of your nose as you hastily take downs in the small moleskin you carry with you around the museum. The docent assigned to your small group is rambling on about some method for achieving true black as seen through the collections of Madonna and Child. You tap along with his words, nodding as he makes what you assume is meant to be an insightful point about art, finance, and innovation, but you honestly are not listening. You are too busy taking in each security camera, each guard stand, each case lock and laser bar that might go missed if less trained eyes observed the room.

You move your pencil to your mouth as the group pauses before a breathtaking impressionist piece, something such a swirl of blues and oranges that you find yourself squinting to try and make out the image. The paint is so thick, lobbed strokes like petals upon the canvas, that you have to fight back the urge to reach out and touch it. And for the first time during this scouting mission, you pause to take in the beauty of the things you are seeing.

As your mouth falls open, you catch the eyes of the young docent mid-sentence. He’s tall and lean – not much unlike the man beside you – and his all black button up and slacks make him even leaner, like a statue held within the walls more than a person. He smiles at you, the kind of half-smile one gives when they catch the eye of someone mid-party, hoping another soul might be in on the joke that no one is telling. And you couldn’t help but smile back. Cute is cute, in a museum or a coffee shop or in a high street tailor.

“Kill me. Kill me. Kill me,” Merlin whispers beside you as the docent waxes on about the birth of cubism. His hands are deep in his pockets as his eyes roam the large hall of nineteenth century European art, looking anywhere but where he is supposed to.

You lightly yap your mission partner in the shoulder with your pencil, enough to draw his attention but not enough to hurt him.

“No one said you had to join me for this part, mister.”

“And miss this riveting soliloquy being played out before us? I wouldn’t dare,” Merlin says, his voice laced with the kind of mirth you love about having him with you in the field. Once he was behind a computer, Merlin was as rigid and professional as they come. But here, beside you among the fieldwork itself, Merlin’s lighter side shines through.

“He’s not that bad,” you muse, “Ever consider maybe you’re a bad audience?”

Merlin laughs as you move with the group towards the atrium of collected statues where you started the tour. Your guide begins his closing remarks as you continue to note the placement of donation boxes and archways, lights and wiring. Merlin meanwhile seems to not care one bit about the scenery, choosing instead to only look at you.

Dropping to a whisper once more, Merlin asks, “Do you like this stuff, anyway?”

“Scouting? I mean I like my job and this is part of it. It could be a lot—“

“No, not that,” he says with a dip on the chin to your notebook, “Art, history, culture… museums and docents.” He says the last word with a bit of grit as your eyes catch that the cute tall man is addressing the group still, though his eyes seem to keep roaming over towards you, that shy smile still finding home on his face.

You look up and consider Merlin for a moment. He isn’t smiling at you like the tour guide is, but you can recall times when he had, times when he kissed your brow in thankfulness of your safety or laughed at you over a game of cards to kill the time on the jet or the rare moments like this out in the field when you got to pretend just for a minute that you were just two people who met on the street and saw something beautiful in each other.

And beautiful he was.

“Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t. It can feel like work to take in so much beauty, but sometimes beauty is a blessing.”

“Beauty is always a blessing, my love,” Merlin hums as he watches you closely. His eyes are crinkling just a bit at the corners, drawing you into the soft swirl of brown and green that looked how an impressionist might want to capture the beauty of the Scottish hills. It seems fitting on his face, with the drawl of his voice and the soft curves of his jaw and collar bone and shoulders reminding you so much of the beautiful mountains and cliffs of the lands of his youth. And just like before, when taking in the works of the masters, you are awestruck by the tantalizing perfection of it.  

Merlin catches your pencil before you realize you had even dropped it.

“I think I might be willing to be a better audience if I had a better speaker. Perhaps you’d be willing to show me sometime? Maybe we can get dinner afterwards, my treat?”

Merlin’s cheeks are the slightest pink as he asks you the question, somehow shy despite all the bravery within him. You smile in turn, loving the idea of being closer to this man who’d be willing to try something he didn’t particularly enjoy if it meant spending time with you.

But you don’t get to respond before the crowd disperses and the young art historian is standing beside you, armed stretched in introduction.

“Thank you for your excellent attention,” he says with a nod to your notebook, which you close with a quick snap before he can see that your notes have little to do with brushstrokes and color theory. “I can certainly say I’ve never had such a studious student in attendance. And quite a striking one too, if I might be so bold.”

You are about to respond thanking him for his compliment and brushing off his advances, but he just barrels through, ignoring your open mouth.

“I’d be happy to offer a personal tour, much more detail for your notes, and many corridors unexplored in the public tour.”

The smile you thought cute turns creepy in an instant, just a little too much teeth and the corners rigid. You grimace.

Merlin lunges forward at the implication, ready to eat off the head of any man who dare prey on you in any way, but you stopped him with a firm hand to the chest.

“Husband,” you say as sweetly as you can, linking your hands with Merlin and instantly he picks up the cover, brushing his shoulder against your own. “This nice man has just offered us a private tour, isn’t that sweet? Too bad we’ll be leaving for our next city tomorrow. Such a shame our honeymoon is so structured, isn’t it, darling?” Your voice is laced with the kind of sweetness you reserve for missions, the kind that disarms everyone with its naivety, if only they knew the hardness underneath.

“Indeed it is, my love,” Merlin muses as he takes your notebook and slides it into his breast pocket. He offers the docent a curt nod before pulling you out the door with it.

Once outside, he tries to let your hand slip but you simply won’t let him. He turns to look at you.

“Yes, I’d like that,” you finally say with a smile.

It takes Merlin a moment to process what you mean, but when he remembers the lead up to your awkward interaction with the guide, he smiles big and true.

“But perhaps a different museum? One without creeps.”

“I doubt we’d ever find such a place,” you joke.

Merlin pauses at the bottom of the stone steps of the old building, taking a moment to assess that your hand still sits in his. “Maybe then just dinner? I’ll have enough beauty to study if you are sitting across from me.”

And somehow you don’t have it in you to argue with him because honestly his face was better than a thousand paintings anyway, especially when it was trained on you.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt,  @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug, @igotmadskills, @hazelandcoconuts, @yallgotkik

Kingsman tags: @allonsymexgirl, @eiensteiner, @thecaptainsgingersnap, @madamcadaver. @doct0rstrange, @ratwrites, @kaeleabres, @nellietara, @ediblemurderer, @allofthekingsmenMerlin tags: @consultingdoctorwholock, @sparrowharkness

[howling-harpy]

Peonies and primroses in Pennsylvania fair

Word count: 6780 Rating: G Pairing: Winters/Nixon

Summary: Harry is excited. He’s on a holiday from work, Dick has been discharged from service, and Nix let it slip in a letter that he was planning to visit, so Harry seized the opportunity to tag along and make it a reunion.  Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction based on the HBO drama series and the actors’ portrayals in it. This has nothing to do with any real person represented in the series, and means no disrespect. A/N: This is a sequel to my fic “Dear lover”, found on my blog but not linked here because Tumblr hates links.

*

Summer, 1952

Harry was excited. He had been looking forward to this week since late winter when the matter had been agreed upon via letters, and now that the day had finally arrived, he was ready to go. Kitty watched him with amusement. “I’d ask you if you packed everything you need, but since you’ve packed and repacked thrice, it would be a stupid question.” Harry just grinned at her. She was right: the suitcase had been sitting by the door since yesterday. “Thank you for your concern,” he said, “and for your patient supervision.” 

She huffed a laugh and turned back to the kitchen. “Is your friend going to stay long enough for coffee?” 

Harry glanced out of the front window to the driveway for the umpteenth time, still seeing no car, and absently answered: “Uh, I don’t know. You never really know with Nix. I asked him to just pick me up on the way, but he’s never been one to turn down a treat either.” Harry followed Kitty to the kitchen and sat down at the table. There was a coffee cake under a glass dome, baked only yesterday and iced this morning, and it was clear that Kitty wanted to present and serve it to a guest, but whether this was the occasion or not was unclear. Kitty seemed to sense that and directed one of her sharp looks at Harry, tilting her head. “But you’re both very anxious to get on the road to see your friend, aren’t you?” Harry smiled sheepishly. “Yeah.” He didn’t need to explain it to her: he had told her more than enough in the letters he had written from overseas, and shared enough pictures, postcards and letters from Nix and Dick for her to understand. Kitty smiled knowingly. “It’s been some time, hasn’t it?” Harry sighed. “Yeah, I haven’t seen Nix since -45, or Dick since he moved back to Pennsylvania. And now it’s going to be all three of us again.” Just thinking about it brought a bright smile to his face, and again he glanced outside to search for the car Nix had described. “Really, I’m so glad Nix mentioned this visit in his letter. It didn’t even occur to him to pick me up even though I live along the way, that dog.” “He always seemed a bit aloof,” Kitty noted. Harry grinned. “He is, but it’s part of his charm. Dick always says he knew he was in trouble from the moment he befriended him.” Kitty gave an indulgent little laugh, a sound that both joined and separated her from their boyish habits and experiences. After only half an hour, a beautiful blue Buick finally turned on the Welsh’s driveway. Harry could barely keep himself from darting up and running to the door, but managed to stay put long enough to watched the car park and a dark-headed man get out of it. Kitty laughed at him when he skipped to the door and yanked it open before Nix got the chance to ring the doorbell. With a grin on his face, Harry took in the man in his early thirties standing on his doorstep, a finger reaching for the bell and now frozen in surprise. “Lewis Nixon,” Harry said. Nix’s surprised expression melted into a familiar smile, now worn on an older face. “The one and only,” he said, opened his arms and welcomed Harry’s enthusiastic hug. They hugged tight for a good while and gave each other friendly slaps on the back before Harry pushed Nix at arm’s length to properly look at him friend. “You look good, Nix,” he said, “and haven’t changed a bit.” He wasn’t lying either, there was the same mischievous gleam in Nix’s brown eyes that hadn’t faded in seven years, his hair was combed back, and his face was clean-shaven with the bluish touch of five o’clock shadow already there. He might have been older now, more distinctively mature rather than boyish, but Harry couldn’t tell. It was Nix just as he remembered him. The corner of Nix’s mouth tugged upwards in a lopsided smile. “You’re just the same too. It’s good to see you, Harry.” Harry grinned, and Nix returned the expression. When they had grinned at each other enough while hanging on the doorway, Harry remembered himself and with a slap on Nix’s arm invited him in. “Come on! We can be on our way as soon as we’d like, but come say hi to Kitty at least.” “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Nix said. “I listened to you yapping on and on about her too much to miss the real deal.” Nix didn’t take his jacket off and Harry didn’t offer to take it, guessing that they’d be leaving almost right away, but Nix did take a good look around the house when Harry took him to the kitchen. Kitty was standing by the kitchen counter when Harry and Nix stepped in and came to meet them with a charming, curious smile on her face. “Welcome to our home, Mr. Nixon. I’m Katherine Welsh,” Kitty said and offered her hand in a greeting. Nix gave her one of his charming smiles, took her hand and gave it a graceful shake. “Mrs. Welsh, it’s an honor to finally meet you. Harry spoke of you so much.” “And he wrote about you,” Kitty countered, “only good things, I promise.” “So he lied! Good man,” Nix said and laughed, let go of her hand and put his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Kitty didn’t laugh, only smiled and gave Nix a sharp once-over that he bore with resilient ease. “Will you be leaving right away or would you like to stay for coffee?” Kitty asked, looking between the men. “I baked a coffee cake.” Harry glanced at Nix, still not knowing their plan and wondering how Nix felt about it; he had always been restless when things really mattered, and seeing Nix here without Dick in his tow was strange enough to remind him that this was supposed to be a quick stop on the way. “We do have a lot of road ahead of us still, ma’am, but cake sounds wonderful,” Nix said, swinging on his heels. Kitty tilted her head. “Are you in a hurry?” Nix shifted again, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. “Well… Not exactly, no. But you see, it has been a long time since we’ve seen our friend, and we did agree to go directly to him, so it feels a bit strange to linger.” Harry took another look at Nix and suddenly realized that he looked tired. It was the same strain he had gotten used to seeing during the war and thus didn’t immediately recognize as unusual now, but Nix really looked like he had been driving all night. A memory surfaced, a whole collection of them, of Nix looking like that, shifting and anxious and restless, and Dick leaning into his space to bump shoulders or just gazing at him with that reassuring calm of his, and Harry wished they were already there so Dick could do it now. Kitty looked at Harry and Harry looked at Kitty, and Kitty nodded. “I’ll pack you some cake and coffee on the road then.” Within half an hour with Harry’s suitcase, packed lunch and cake, some sandwiches, and coffee in a thermos, Nix and Harry were on their way. Nix drove even though Harry had offered to. As soon as they settled on the highway with only smooth open road ahead of them, Nix relaxed with only one hand on the wheel of gestured towards the plastic boxes of Kitty’s baked goods. “Give me some of that cake, will you?” Harry threw him a surprised look but got the box out anyway. Nix had never been a person with a sweet tooth before. “Sure. Kitty’s an amazing cook and baker, I bet you’ll like this.” Kitty had cut the cake into ready slices and Harry handed one to Nix, who took a large bite out of it, neverminding the crumbs falling in his lap. “I bet. I saw that cake the second I stepped into your kitchen and haven’t stopped thinking about it since,” Nix said, mouth full. Harry laughed, filled with pride. “She’s amazing. I think I’ve gained a dozen pounds just eating her food.” “Yeah, I can see that,” Nix noted playfully, eyes gleaming. “I’m the same. Ever since I stopped drinking I’ve been craving pastries. If it’s made of wheat and hopefully chocolate-covered, I will want it.” Harry broke a slice of cake in half for himself. It had a sweet coffee-chocolate icing, and Harry marvelled at Kitty’s skills as he inhaled the rich, spicy smell of the cake. “You quit for real then, huh?” For some reason Nix looked awkward for a moment, swallowing the cake and half shrugging. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. It just… Well. I don’t drink, but I do eat to make up for that.” He gave a laugh, light and ironic. “First when I stopped drinking I lost some weight, and then gained it all back when I started eating. There’s a balance in the universe, I suppose.” “That’s good to hear. Now you and Dick can go about frustrating barkeepers by ordering plain lemonades together,” Harry chuckled. Nix laughed with him, but afterwards started to chew on his bottom lip, almost nervous. Harry watched him from the corner of his eye for a moment and didn’t have to wonder what that was about. Bringing up Dick was like that, and Harry could empathize. All three of them had been so close back then, and that feeling of camaraderie didn’t fade with time, but distance felt weird. When Harry had last seen Dick he had felt it as strongly as before, all of it, like they could just go back to army right then and there, and Harry would still be as willing to take a bullet for Dick as he had been back in Europe. Nix and Dick had been as thick as thieves and close friends already when Harry had joined their posse, so he could only imagine what Nix was feeling right now. Harry looked at the road ahead of them instead of Nix when he said: “So how long has it been? Since he moved out?” Nix didn’t answer right away even though he certainly knew the answer. Hell, Harry wouldn’t have wondered if he knew the exact number of days. “Four years,” Nix said finally. “He moved out four years ago when the job didn’t turn out that well, and he moved back into his home state. We’ve been writing some, but because he was called back in service and all that we haven’t seen each other since when he left New Jersey.” Harry had enough tact to not ask about the job. He had about a hundred theories, but if he was perfectly honest he didn’t want to ask Nix about his family; every time it came up it was like pulling a trigger on one of Nix’s moods. “Well, you were getting a bit old for living together like that," he joked. "I really don’t get it, after army I certainly had had enough of bunking together with other smelly guys.” Nix snorted. “Harry, if all guys are smelly, then how on Earth can you ask your poor wife to share a house with you?” “As a group! Guys are smelly as a group!” “Sure, sure,” Nix admitted but with a smirk on his face. “Lucky for us, two is hardly a group.” “Maybe you’re right there,” Harry said with good-natured humor. Besides, Dick had always been very meticulous with his hygiene anyway, so maybe their living situation had been amicable as long as it had lasted. That brought another thought back in Harry’s mind: “I can’t believe you almost ditched me from this visit!” he said, slapping Nix in the arm. “Hey, ow, I’m trying to drive here!” Nix whined. “And I didn’t try to ditch you, you already saw Dick a few years ago! It’s my turn now.” Harry scoffed, then laughed. “He’s my friend too, you selfish ass! We both used to see him every day, it’s not like once every few years is going to suddenly be enough!” “Yeah,” Nix said, suddenly sighing so heavily his breath trembled. “Yeah, I know.” Harry sensed something strange in the air between them, something dark and aching and impossible to pinpoint, so much like Nix’s moods which he thought had been left behind with his boyhood and drinking. He slapped his arm again, gentler this time. “Oh, don’t be like that. We both know you’re his favorite anyway, so there’s no reason to pout. I want to see my buddy too, is all.” Something about that seemed to comfort Nix, because a smile was back on his face again. Harry took out more cake for both of them. “Come on. It’s not that long a way to go either. We’ll be there in a few hours.” The car seemed to speed up a little bit, Nix straightening up on the driver’s seat. “Yeah.” * Dick had moved back in Pennsylvania, near a small city with lots of open fields and forests around it, and a view towards distant mountains that were blue against the horizon. Nix had a map of the area that he asked Harry to read for him, and when Harry folded the map open, he saw a route already planned onto it with a pen. They drove through the city and into the outskirts, through fields and across a river, past scattered houses with yards and big gardens. Harry pointed out the right turn, a smaller sand road off the main road, lined with giant oak trees, and they drove that road all the way to its end. At the end of the road, surrounded by a meadow and a half wild orchard, was an old two-story house, freshly painted with a sharp dark-tile roof and a homely looking porch. They passed a letterbox that read “Winters” on it, and Nix took the car slowly to the driveway that was only tire tracks in hay and grass. While Nix drove, Harry kept his eyes on the house. It looked nice and large, and he would have bet that Dick had painted it himself. While they were still driving down the driveway, Harry saw the front door swinging open and a man stepping out onto the porch. There was no mistaking Dick Winters for anyone else, not with his unmistakable posture, height and still bright red hair. For some reason Harry had expected him to be wearing his uniform, but despite that thought his blue jeans and plain button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows were a natural fit. The front door left wide open behind him, Dick watched them from the porch with no shoes on and a bright smile on his face. Nix parked the car and while he was still busy shifting the gear off, turning the engine off and gathering his things, Harry was already up and out of the car, waving at Dick. “Hey! It’s been forever, buddy!” Harry greeted him, strode right to the house and jumped the few steps up to the porch. Dick gave him a warm smile. “Hello, Harry,” he said and leaned down to hug him. Hugs from Dick were a rare thing, he was always very formal and proper even amongst friends, but apparently after two years apart and in front of his own house he was much more relaxed, and Harry accepted the hug with joy. “It’s been too long,” he sighed when they pulled apart. “Yes, yes it has,” Dick said in return, and then his eyes darted back towards the car. “Welsh! I’m not carrying your stuff for you!” Nix shouted from behind the car, popping the trunk open. Harry barked a laugh and skipped back down to go get his suitcase. Nix’s impatience was even funnier considering that he had dragged probably three times more stuff with him than Harry had, the small suitcase barely even fitting in the trunk of the car with Nix’s bags and travel chest. Nix was hovering by the car, one of his bags swung over his shoulder and pretty obviously hiding behind the trunk’s hood and the tail light. Harry frowned at the nervous display, and for the first time it occurred to him that Nix himself might not have been entirely blameless in what had caused Dick to leave New Jersey. Harry wondered had there been some sort of a falling out, some bigger crisis or an argument between the two, but immediately after he figured that had it been something serious Nix wouldn’t have come in the first place. And even if there had been something bad between then, it would have taken place four years ago, and now was now. It was all about clearing the air.   So Harry settled on direct action, slammed the car’s trunk shut, grabbed Nix by the lapels of his jacket and dragged him behind him to the house. “Now, wait a moment…” was all Nix managed before he found himself being pulled up the front steps and essentially thrust right in front of Dick. Harry could barely hold back his grin. He glanced at Dick, whose expression was utterly unreadable but his eyes were welling with emotion, and then at Nix who was lingering on the steps, acting almost coy. “Hi, Lew,” Dick softly said, his hand raising in a small wave despite their proximity. Nix looked flustered, looking up at Dick through his lashes. “Hi.” Harry huffed a laugh before striding into the house, leaving the two at each other’s mercy. The house was old, probably from the previous century, but recently renovated, the paint on its walls clearly fresh. It was a nice house with dark wooden floors, big windows and a lot of open space. The hall gave way directly into a roomy kitchen, where Harry could see clearly new cabinets, a large masonry oven and a stove, and by the window a good-sized dining table. He peeked into the living-room as well, seeing a fire place, a tea table and some armchairs, a plush green carpet on the floor and an empty china cabinet in the back. There were stairs in the hall leading upstairs, where Harry assumed the bedrooms were. He set his suitcase down by the stairs and shook off his coat. The house seemed pretty well furnished, but there were also signs of how recent the move had been: various necessary things were still missing. There was no coat rack, for example, only one of the chairs from the kitchen with a pile of coats and sweaters and a few hats on it, there were carpet rolls by the living-room doorway, and boxes stacked up by the stairs. Dick was clearly still in process of moving in and making the house his own, but still it already had a homely feel to it. Harry had his coat folded over his arm and was glancing around when Dick and Nix stepped inside. Whatever had been between them outside had vanished, both smiling easily.     “Oh, just… Put that wherever,” Dick said, spotting the coat over Harry’s arm and gesturing towards the clothing pile on the chair. “I’ve only just started settling in, renovations delayed the furnishing and so on.” “I think we’ll manage,” Harry said, tossing his coat on the top of the pile. “It’s a really nice house, Dick.” Dick smiled, pleased. “Yeah? I thought so. It needed, and probably still needs, some work, but I really liked the location, the garden and the fireplace.” “How many rooms do you have?” Harry asked. “There’s the kitchen, the living-room and the bath downstairs, and four bedrooms on the second floor, plus a small attic chamber.” Harry nodded, impressed. “That’s nice. There’s room for a family here.” Harry’s chest grew warm just thinking about his friend having a family of his own. Dick would be amazing at it, and he would deserve all of it. The garden would be a perfect place for kids to play in. Dick smiled, proud and happy. “Exactly. A family,” he said, glancing at Nix. Harry wondered if family was a sore subject for Nix, but couldn’t figure out a tactful way to express his lack of judgement about his situation. He could only hope that Dick could communicate it well enough with a look, as he often did with Nix. But Nix didn’t look offended or called out at all. He was circling the hall and peeking into the rooms like a dog in a new house he was curiously inspecting. You could almost see his tail wagging. Harry and Dick exchanged a look about him, and then with a fond shake of his head Dick cleared his throat. “Do you want to see the house some, Nix?” Nix started and gave a laugh, a bit awkward like he had got caught doing something forbidden. “Yeah, sure. Although I can already tell you need some curtains here.” Dick laughed and showed them around while also appointing them rooms to put their things down and settle in. The kitchen and the living-room were pretty well arranged, but with a closer look both had a strong mark of generous relatives and a helpful mother on them, and the upstairs were clearly more a work in progress. Still, Dick had his own bedroom, a guest room, and an office with a couch bed. Harry took the guest room while Nix dropped his stuff into the office. They had dinner at home, mashed potatoes with chicken roasted in the oven and a side salad. Dinner turned easily into coffee and biscuits, which continued so long that the day turned into evening, they got hungry again and made sandwiches to take with them into the living-room. Conversation was just as easy as always, now maybe even more so because they all had so much to tell. Only a few years had passed, but many things had happened and changed, and letters could only express so much. Harry talked eagerly about his job in the school system, about all the students and the curriculum he was trying to get approved both by the higher-ups and the teachers, and mused on how he, a former unruly school boy, had now joined the ranks of the school staff and was forced to consider his past antics in a new light. Nix confessed to similar escapades during his school years but without any remorse. Predictably Dick had been a model student, and Nix briefly teased that had they known each other in school he would have lured him in trouble. Dick had a new job in the city and he seemed excited about it. He managed personnel, and getting to use his organizational skills in practice brought him a great deal of satisfaction. He didn’t mention New Jersey at all, and neither did Nix, and Harry didn’t ask. Harry had taken a bottle of whiskey with him, but now found he had no one to share it with. Nix shook his head. “Yeah, no, I quit over a year ago. I think I told you.” “Yeah, you did, but… Completely?” Harry asked, brows raised. Nix shrugged with a half a smile. “Yep. There was really no middle ground there for me. It was either keep drinking or kick the habit for good.” “Damn. Who do I drink with now?” Harry sighed. Nix’s smile was almost a grimace. “It wasn’t really good for me.” Harry bumped their knees together. “I hear you. I’m happy for you, Nix, but drinking alone is no fun either.” Dick took half a sandwich from the plate and turned to Harry. “You may drink in my house. It’s allowed.” Harry considered this. “Well, maybe a glass or two, even though it’s not that fun. It’s not like I drink much at home either.” Dick went to fetch him a glass from the kitchen. Harry filled it, then mindfully placed it as far away from Nix’s corner of the table as he naturally could. “Kitty doesn’t like you drinking, huh?” Dick asked when Harry took a sip of whiskey. Harry smiled fondly and felt a tug of longing at the mention of his wife. “No, she sure doesn’t. We haven’t really talked about it and she isn’t that forward about it, but she doesn’t like to see me drunk, so I limit myself to a glass every other weekend, if even that. It’s so easy to forget about when you don’t do it that often.” Nix scoffed. “Oh, I wish. My first three months dry were hell. I didn’t have a wife to keep me straight either.” Harry smiled sympathetically. “I bet Dick took that upon himself, huh? Wrote you weekly letters of moral support and brought you back in the fold?” The traces of grimace vanished from Nix’s expression and his eyes lit up. He waved his hand dismissively, and that was all Harry needed to know that he had hit the nail on the head. He laughed. Dick grinned too. “Merely simple words of encouragement to support what was already there,” he noted, and Nix’s smile stretched into a grin as well. Dick’s eyes twinkled. “Despite the distance and my service, I always have time for my men.” Nix snorted and shook his head, blushing. “Oh, right! How are the young American soldiers nowadays?” Harry asked. Dick took a moment to think about it, sighed and shook his head. His expression turned nostalgic. “Not like we were,” he finally said. “I don’t think there will ever be another bunch of guys as dedicated and fine as we were.” “Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” Harry said, and Nix clinked his soda bottle with his whiskey glass. “I’m officially discharged now,” Dick said. “That’s it for my time with the army, for real and certain this time.” “Everyone still calls him Major though,” Nix said to Harry, who chuckled. “So, what’s next for you then?” Harry asked. “My civilian career and tending to my garden,” Dick said. Harry rolled his eyes at Dick’s avoidance. “That we already covered. I meant on the social front. Still no date for Dick Winters, huh? No babies about to take up those bedrooms?” Dick had grown up and gained enough confidence around this talking point that he didn’t blush, but instead returned Harry’s look with one of his noncommittal, blank ones. “No kids. I’ve already explained this to my parents, grandparents, aunties and uncles, my little sister and most of my friends.” Harry raised his hands in a peace offering, dropping the subject. It was a difficult one for him as well, so he left it. “How about a wife? I bet there’s a line by now,” he asked. Dick huffed, finally flushing a bit and dropping his gaze. “That would be the logical first step to kids, at least. But no, no wife.” Nix sniggered, slumping down on his chair most likely in order to reach to poke Dick in the shin. “Not from the lack of trying either, on everyone else’s part, that is. His mother and all the nice ladies at his church are taking waiting numbers for their and their friends’ daughters and nieces.” Dick threw him a look and rolled his eyes. Harry joined in the teasing. “Your bedroom is for two, though. Are you sure there’s no one to take up the extra space?” Despite his blush, Dick managed to smirk. “Even if I were to take someone to my bed, that doesn’t make that person a wife.” Harry sputtered and laughed and Nix inhaled his soda, ending up spitting half of it out in the following coughing fit, making Harry laugh harder and Dick grin. The evening went on. They played a few rounds of cards and stayed awake defying their growing exhaustion. Harry downed three glasses of whiskey and with his lowered tolerance dozed off in one of the armchairs, and so did Nix despite not having had a drop of alcohol. Harry kept drifting in and out of dream, vaguely aware of Dick quietly moving about and taking dishes to the kitchen, and even more vaguely aware that when the flowers of the wallpaper started to look like real plants blooming from the walls, he was asleep. He toed that fine line, sinking into the cushions, enjoying the light buzz of alcohol and the joy of being with his two closest friends, and observing the living-room wall bloom with peonies and primroses and deep green wines, covering everything and gently pulling everything into their world. Quiet words drifted into Harry’s dream. At first they didn’t register at all, too soft and nonsensical to be anything but a dream. “Lew. Wake up, Lew... Lew… Hey, hi. Hi.” “Mm hi.” “Shh, Harry’s asleep.” “Yeah, me too.” The words were soft, almost muttered, the voices so gentle and smooth that they seemed to belong in the dream world with the flowers. “How do you like the house?” “It’s perfect. Just… perfect. I love it.” “I’m glad.” A beat of silence, short as a breath and still like hours in the dream. “I wanted to carry you over the threshold.” A quiet laugh. “You are… So much.” “Too much?” A humming sound. “No, just right. Just perfect.” A shifting sound from a chair, the cushions shuffling against clothing. “Come ‘ere.” A deep sigh filled the room, a strangely layered sound, and it took Harry’s dozing brain a moment to realize it came from two people at once. It was a strange sound, both like the air being knocked out of someone as well as a sound of deep contentment. “I’m so happy to see you again,” Nix whispered, his voice strangely muffled. Dick sounded a little strained. “Yeah, you too. I missed you so much.” The words were finally registering to Harry, not only as coherent sentences with meaning, but also as things spoken by familiar voices that he recognised as his friends’. Their voices were quiet and soft, gentle like they sometimes briefly were when they seemed to talk about something just between themselves despite having company, but the words were something Harry hadn’t ever heard from them before and they didn’t fit the picture. Puzzled, Harry listened, and after a moment risked turning his head towards the voices a bit and cracking his eyes open ever so slightly. Nix was still in his chair where he had dozed off, Dick was standing right next to him, and they had their arms around each other. Nix had his arms wrapped tightly around Dick’s middle, his face pressed against his stomach, Dick’s shirt covering half of his mouth and muffling his words. Nix had his eyes closed. “Don’t ever leave again.” “I won’t,” Dick reassured softly, “don’t you either.” Nix nuzzled against Dick, his palms flat against his back. “I won’t, I promise. I won’t ever leave you. I’ll stay right here with you, I swear.” “At our house.” Dick sounded almost giddy. His hands were cradling Nix against him, one sunken into his hair and gently combing through it again and again. Nix smiled and pressed his cheek more firmly against Dick’s stomach. “Yeah. Our house.” Another pained sigh sounded in the room. Nix’s brow furrowed, and like caught in a flood of some emotion he turned to fully bury his face in Dick’s shirt, mouth open in a trembling gasp and his hands grasping at his back. “I’ve been so lonely, Dick,” he said in a small voice. “I missed you. I’ve missed you for years, and it feels like I still do even though you’re right here.” “Oh, darling.” Dick sank down to sit on the armrest of the chair in a fluid motion as if spurred on by Nix’s tone alone, and as smoothly he wrapped his arms around Nix, pressing his head against his chest instead of his middle. Dick’s hand stroked Nix’s back, up and down in an urgent caress, and his head came to rest on top of Nix’s, fair cheek to black hair. “My darling.” They stayed together like that, and Harry watched them through his lashes. They swayed a bit, rocking from side to side while wrapped around each other, tight but gentle, in an embrace that despite everything didn’t seem tight enough for them. They stayed like that for a long while, both with their eyes closed, Nix pressed against Dick and squeezing him to him, and Dick leaning over him like wanting to shelter him. They remained like that even when the flowers and vines faded back into the wallpaper and became just pictures again. Harry was wide awake but closed his eyes again. He didn’t think anything, just concentrated to staying still and inconspicuous, afraid of intruding on this moment that he was definitely not welcome to. “Are you tired?” Dick asked quietly. Nix mumbled something into his shirt. Then, “yeah. I was too anxious to see you again to sleep, and then I drove all day.” Dick hummed, his voice thick with affection. “Poor you. You should go to bed.” “We really should.” “Do you think we should wake Harry and tell him to go to bed?” Harry was uncomfortably aware that both of them were looking at him then. Nix made an agreeing noise. “We probably should. He’ll mess up his back like that.” Despite agreement, neither one made a move to get on with it, and for a long while it was quiet. For such a long while in fact, that despite the tension and the shock Harry felt himself drifting off again. The next thing he knew was that he was nudged awake. Dick was shaking him by the shoulder. “Hey, buddy. You should go to bed.” Harry blinked and looked around. The living-room was dark, and Nix was nowhere to be seen. Harry let himself be pulled up from the chair, stretched until something in his back popped, and then followed Dick upstairs and into the guest room. As he got into bed he wondered briefly if he had dreamed it all. When Harry woke up the next morning and got dressed, he still wasn’t quite sure if he had dreamed it or not. He was almost entirely sure that it had been real, he had been awake to hear and see it after all, but… But. He stared out of the window and felt the gears in his mind grinding. There was some sort of a mental block in his head just refusing to comprehend any of it. He had seen and heard that. It felt like everything had just been called into question, and every single thing, every single interaction and factoid was now re-evaluated in the light of this new information, and all of it formed one mess of a puzzle in Harry’s mind. How had something like this slipped by him for so long? Or how had they managed to hide it? Harry thought about Nix and Dick and tried to see their friendship as something different and more. He had seen them wrapped into each other in a manner that was definitely not simply friendly. Nix hanging onto Dick like that may have been excusable if he was drunk, which he wasn’t, but Dick holding him like a bride, stroking his hair… Harry rubbed his hands over his face. How had this escaped him was the question. Maybe it was because neither Nix or Dick matched his mental image of men like that, but that was a flimsy excuse for not seeing what was going on right in front of him. How had their friendship got into that point? How had Harry missed something like that? He had always known that Nix was special to Dick, that there were Dick’s friends and then there was Nix, but somehow it hadn’t added up. Another disturbing thought arose in Harry’s mind: had he known all along, but chosen not to see it? Was he that cowardly that he would let himself live on in denial rather than face the truth? And if he could deny it, did the truth even matter that much? Or did it matter so much in fact, that denying it was the only way to cope? He thought about Nix’s soft, openly vulnerable voice confessing how much he had missed Dick. He thought about Dick stroking Nix’s hair. Suddenly Harry felt himself flushing. Four years they had been apart and only yesterday been reunited. No wonder Nix hadn’t wanted Harry to tag along, he must have been looking forward to the reunion and wanted it to be private. He rubbed his face again. Whatever the case was, he would have to face them both and go have breakfast. He could tell by the sounds around the house that at least Dick was already awake.   It turned out that he was wrong. Both Dick and Nix were awake, but only Dick was actually preparing breakfast and Nix was sitting at the table, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Good morning,” Dick greeted Harry with a bright smile, ever the morning person. “Have a seat.” Harry did. There was a pot of oat meal on the table, as well as a selection of homemade jams, a bowl of sugar and butter on a plate. Dick was making toast in a pan on the stove and brewing coffee while at it. Harry made himself a bowl of oat meal with butter and a spoonful of strawberry jam. “Did you sleep okay?” Dick asked. “Yeah,” Harry answered and wasn’t lying. It was being awake that was giving him trouble. “Do you want toast with that?” Dick asked. “Sure. Thanks.” “Give it a minute and you can have these slices.” When the toast was done, Dick served two slices to Harry and put two more in the pan. It was a beautiful summer morning outside, and from the way the sun was shining from the blue sky one could tell it was going to be a hot day. Harry watched Dick make two slices of toast for himself, then pour three cups of coffee. Dick set his plate on the table, then brought the coffee cups over. He handed Harry one, then made one cup with milk and sugar, and another with only a dash of milk. He set the other cup in front of Nix, touching his arm to get his attention. Nix opened his eyes and was happy to find a cup of coffee in front of him. They shared a smile, and Nix took a clearly pleasurable sip of coffee, slightly more awake but his eyes still drooping. Dick was leaning his cheek on his hand and watching Nix with a fond smile. Then he caught Harry watching him from the corner of his eye and the smile was contained. Harry took a bite of his toast and shrugged. “Go on, be happy in your own house. It’s allowed,” he said, teasing being an easy and familiar routine to fall back on. Dick cast his eyes down and smiled. He took a sip of his own coffee and glanced at Nix again. “Yeah, I know. It’s not that, it’s just… Well. It’s good to be home, you know.” Harry nodded. “Yeah.” And he did know. He glanced out of the window into the half wild garden that Dick was only starting to tame. It would be a lot of work, all on top of the usual fuss with a day job and maintaining an old house like this one. “You really going to have a family here, Dick?” Dick turned fully to Harry then, perhaps hearing the several layers of the question. Harry wouldn’t have been surprised if he did; Dick was always prepared for everything, after all. But Dick met his gaze head on, steady and unwavering. It looked like he turned the question over in his mind, but just to amuse Harry. He seemed like he had the answer ready already. Dick nodded. “Yeah, I’ll have a family. Maybe it’ll be small, but it’ll be loving and good.” Harry stared back at him and took another bite out of his toast. Dick studied him intensely then, like he was looking for something, and Harry allowed him. After a moment Dick seemed to find what he was looking for, because he nodded to himself and returned to his coffee. “You know what they say, Harry,” he said, “homes are not found, they are built. Families as well.” “Yeah.” Harry tasted his oat meal with the jam. “This is really good.” Dick nodded. “My mother and sister will get the compliments.” It was a warm, cozy kitchen, and the breakfast was sturdy and delicious. Coffee and occasional nudges from Dick together were slowly waking Nix up. The sun was already high up. It was going to be a beautiful day.

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Rain

Part of of a request by @min-newt from the prompt “You probably found someone better. Someone worth your time. But I still have to be selfish and say I can’t let you go..”

Jimin x reader

Word count: 2,548

A/n: This one was starting to run away with me so I decided to post it in parts. Thanks for the request angel I hope you like the beginning because it's gonna be a slightly slow burn lol.

She inhaled deeply, the smell of puppies and dog treats filled the air as she sat her purse on the information desk and pinned her name tag to the lapel of her work shirt. A deep purple affair with the words Heart and Seoul Rescue printed in gold thread just above where she’d pinned her name tag.

“Ya! Y/n!” Jacob sprinted around the corner, having just finished his rounds feeding the cats when he’d noticed her arrival and come out to greet her. He pulled her into a desperate side hug, nearly sobbing in relief at her presence.

“Hey,hey easy there Jacob.” She giggled, pushing him off of her playfully and adjusting her shirt. “What’s going on? What’s got you so freaked? Well...more freaked out than normal anyway.”

He huffed, collapsing his upper body across the information desk and groaning angstily. “Yah! The director called me this morning. Said something about some famous celebrity group coming in to shoot a promo commercial for the animal sanctuary. I spent all morning cleaning but I haven’t had a chance to take care of Yanna.”

Y/n groaned,shoving he and causing him to stumble backwards a step. “What were you thinking?” She yelled, spinning away from him and beginning to make her way towards the dog kennels. “Doesn’t matter what group from whatever company is coming to make themselves look good! Yanna’s due any day and needs all the care she can get. I can’t believe you forgot about her!”

Jacob yelled his apologies but she just waved him off as she grabbed a leash from the dozens of others lining the wall beside the door to the kennels and made her way inside. The sounds of the dogs barking greeted her and she smiled as she made her way down the row, stopping about half way down and crouching before one of the holding cages.A small tan head peaked from beneath a bundle of blankets, tilting to stare up at her with blurry sleep filled eyes.

“Good morning Yanna.” The young woman cooed as she reached up to unlock the door and held out her hands to the weary animal. The mother yorkshire terrier climbed from beneath the blankets, stretching her body as best she could around her large belly before making her way over to greet y/n with several small licks to her hand.

“Aish, I can’t believe that mean old Jacob forgot about you.”She pouted as she snapped the leash to Yanna’s collar. The small dog yapped happily, her tail wagging as she attempted to bounce her way around the woman and out of the kennel.

Y/n stood, a giggle bubbling up as she closed the door to the kennel and began walking towards the door that led outside. “Alright alright sweetheart, I know you’re probably full to bursting. Let’s get you outside so you can take care of your business.”

***

“Y/n!!” Jacob’s voice cracked as he called her name from the front of the building. She’d just finished feeding the dog’s and was wrapping up cleaning the last of the kennels when Jacob’s panicked voice caught her attention.

Leaning her broom against the wall she stepped out of the kennel and made her way to where Jacob stood flustered and out of breath. “Jesus Jacob, you look like somebody stole your lunch money.”

He clutched at his chest, leaning against the information desk as he struggled to catch his breath. “Y/n...I...the….the celebrities!!!” He shook his head, too flustered tobe able to make out any more words than what he’d given her.

Muttering under her breath she made her way to the water cooler, grabbing a paper cone and filling it with water before handing it over. Jacob snatched it, giving her the briefest of smiles in thanks and promptly downing the cool liquid.

He groaned, wiping his lips and closing his eyes as his breathing slowed enough for him to be able to form coherent sentences. “I found out who the celebrities that were visiting are.” He let out a huff before grinning down at her. “It’s…”

But he was interrupted when the objects of the conversation walked through the double sliding glass doors. It wasn’t exactly what y/n had been expecting. A massive group of people poured into the lobby, some holding makeup cases, many sporting surgical masks and profession or business casual clothes.

But what drew her attention was the 7 stunning men that the crowd of people seemed to part for, like some metaphorical sea of people. She inhaled sharply, grabbing Jacob’s arms and tugging on it as her excitement flooded through her in waves.

“Jacob is that???”

“BTS...yes y/n...the only group you’ve been able to talk about since you moved here.” Jacob smirked down at the awestruck look on her face. Her eyes took in the scene before her, drinking in every detail that she could because she knew deep down that this was a day she never wanted to forget.

There was Namjoon, smiling as he and what she could only assume was a group of managers spoke with the director of the animal shelter. Lord above help her but his dimples were even more amazing in person than she could have ever hoped. Jhope walked over, draping his arm casually over the leader’s shoulder as he listened in on the conversation, giving an occasional laugh and a smile that literally lit the whole room with it’s glory.

She squealed at the sight, hiding behind Jacob  as her eyes continued to wander the large room, seeking out the other members.

Yoongi and Taehyung she found sitting on a bench side by side, both staring down at their phones and talking back and forth to each other quietly. The scene made her heart race, watching as Yoongi brushed the hair out of his eyes and looked up to find her staring. He gave her a soft smile and she could feel her face heat up instantly, her eyes widening as she watched him nudge Taehyung before nodding in her direction.

Tae glanced up at her, breaking into a bright smile as well at her obviously flustered state.

“Oh GOD Jacob they’re looking at me…” She whispered, ducking back behind him and hiding her burning cheeks in the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Sillyehabnida?” A quiet voice spoke behind her, forcing her to pull away from the safety of Jacob’s uniform.

She turned, pasting a pleasant smile on her face that froze almost instantly when her view was filled with the person who’d been speaking. Jeon Jungkook, the golden maknae himself stood before her, a sheepish smile on his lips as he looked down at his feet.

“Ah...I...look for...bathroom?” He spoke in broken english, his cheeks tinged a slight pink as he shifted from one foot to the other.

She realized that he must have heard her and Jacob speaking english to each other and assumed she couldn’t speak korean. Her smile quickly turned genuine as she answered him in his native tongue.

“You’re looking for the bathroom?”

His eyes brightened up and he smiled warmly, nodding in affirmation. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just that there isn’t anyone else around besides the two of you and I was hoping one of you could show me the way?”

Jacob saw his opportunity,shoving his coworker to the side and offering Jungkook a grin of his own. “Sure I’ll show you the way.”

Shooting y/n a grin Jacob took Jungkook by the arm, the younger man chuckling as the two walked away in the direction of the bathrooms.

“That man has no shame.” She giggled to herself as she leaned against the information desk and took in the activity around her.

There wa an entire horde of camera men, each lugging mounds of equipment to be set up in the different areas that they’d been planning to shoot in. She watched as miles of cables were unwound and attached to recording devices, sound systems were set up, and makeup artists fluttered around, attending to their charges right along with the hairdressers.

“Miss?” A young woman tapped her elbow, smiling brightly up at her and holding out one of the makeup bags.

Y/n looked down at her and smiled brightly. “Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?” She asked kindly.

The woman blushed, holding up the makeup bag and motioning over one of the hairdressers. “We were wondering. Since you’re going to be on camera if you’d like a makeover?”

Her eyes sparkled and her grin shone as she nodded. “I almost never wear makeup to work.” She giggled. “Animals couldn’t care less what I look like. But the idea of being made over by such adorable professionals?”

The two women grinned, clasping each of her hands. “We never get to work with women, especially someone as pretty as you!”

Y/n couldn’t help the blush of heat that graced her cheeks. “Aiyooo, I’m nowhere near as pretty as all that.” She giggled as they tugged her around the information desk. Setting their equipment down they quickly went to work, primping and priming her in such a way that it was all over before she could even realise what was going on.

“Oh yea.”

“Perfection at its finest.”

The two women giggled, grinning down at their handy work with pride.Y/n ran a fingertip over her now glossed lips, a smile tugging at the corners as she took the mirror handed to her. Inhaling deeply she turned it to face her and her jaw instantly dropped.

“Wooowww.”

She jolted at the voice that had spoken in unison with her own. Moving the mirror to the side her jaw snapped closed instantly. Because standing right in front of her, jaw dropped and eyes wide was…

“Jimin ssi! There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The young makeup artist grabbed his arm, shaking him and snapping him out of his stupor.

“Ya look at your hair! Did you just wake up from a nap? You know we’re supposed to be shooting today. The PDs are going to give you an ear full if you show up like that!” The hair stylist took his other arm, turning him to drag him away to the others. His eyes never left y/n face though, his neck straining as he tried desperately to continue looking at her.

“Holy...that was Park Jimin!” She squealed, turning back to stare down at her reflection in the mirror.

The makeup noona had done pure magic on her face, a delicate eyeliner rimming her eyes in coal that made the color of her eyes pop. Coupled with eyeshadow and mascara her eyes seemed huge, like the sultry eyes of an innocent doe. Her lips were lush, expertly lined and something about the color made them seem incredibly kissable. She giggled at her own reflection placing the mirror down before her.

A throat cleared above her, startling her out of her self revelry. She looked up and her cheeks instantly flushed.

“Hello beautiful.” Kim Seokjin stood before her, leaning across the wide counter of the info desk. Her eyes were so focused on the swell of his lips that she had a hard time focusing on anything he was saying.

She blinked rapidly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “I’m sorry what was that?” She asked. And as he chuckled at her flustered state, the heat in her face spread.

“Aiyo, you’re adorable.” He chuckled, giving her a wink. She giggled, the wink having knocked her out of the mental block his handsome face had given her.

“Truly, to be called adorable by World Wide Handsome himself? It’s an honor!” She grinned, feigning heartache as she clutched her chest.

“Ya she knows me? Be still my heart.” Jin clutched his chest in return, causing them both to burst into a new round of giggles between them.

“Of course! I was ARMY before I even moved to Seoul. Going on...almost 2 years now?” She ducked her head, trying to hide her face. “I’ll be honest it’s a real honor to meet you all.”

Namjoon had happened to make his way over at this point and flashed her a dimple filled smile. “Oh so you’re ARMY are you?”

She squeaked at his arrival, nodding vigorously and almost bouncing out of her seat in her excitement. “I am. And very proud of it if I must say.”

Namjoon chuckled,a hint of a blush rising to his cheeks. “Well thank you very much for your continued support. We’re just as proud to have such a sweet fan.”

“Y/n!” The head of the shelter made her way over, a huge grin on her face as she handed her employee a stack of paper. ‘I see you’re already acquainted with a few of our guests.”

Y/n nodded as she riffled through the paperwork in an attempt to hide her persistently warm cheeks. “I have. I’m so glad the shelter is getting a chance to shine finally. And I’m sure the animals are going to get a kick out of having the spotlight on them.”

“They’re not going to be the only ones.” Her boss clapped her hands, her smile turning mischievous.

“Oh?” This caught y/n’s attention. She slowly lowered the paperwork to the desk, her undivided attention now on the almost malevolent grin shining her way.

“Well now who do you think is going to be in charge of showing our handsome young guests around the place?” the keen lady nodded towards Namjoon who looked as if he really wasn’t comfortable with the conversation. “We can’t very well have Jacob do it. He’s far too eager to be on camera. No no I’ve spoken with their managers and it’s been decided.”

“You want me to do it don’t you?” y/n groaned, folding her arms before her and making as if to hide her face in their comfort.

“Ya!” the shelter manager grabbed her shoulders, preventing her from completing the action. “Don’t go ruining your makeup! You’re on in 20!”

With that the manager departed as Namjoon and y/n watched, both shaking their heads in unison. Namjoon flashed her a reassuring grin, a matching pair of dimples flashing at her and imprinting on the backs of her eyeballs.

“Don’t worry Miss. It’ll be pretty simple. Our camera guys are experts at making people feel comfortable around them. All you have to do is show us around. Introduce us to some of the animals. Just be yourself and relax. We’re just normal guys who love animals. It’ll be great I promise.”

She giggled, shaking her head in disbelief. “There’s nothing normal about any of you. You’re all so talented and sweet and hot. I don’t think I’m going to survive this.”

Her words caused Namjoon to blush profusely and he ducked his head, stuttering about having to get his audio pack put on. As he rushed away she grinned to herself. This may be the most exciting things she’s ever done in her life, but boy was she going to milk every second of it.

[funeral-clown]

i got one yes and that is all the validation i needed so here’s a longass Spooky Poem for y’all

@subterraneanbanjos u wanted it u got it

first tho i gotta set the mood. it was a dark classroom, and i read it aloud to a mostly empty room as the audience stared at this picture

so anyway there’s the mood set here’s the poem

I got lucky I heard him on the stairs old houses creak but I know the difference between a settling foundation and a foot on the stairs I've snuck out enough times

he walked past my door first and I thought my heart would stop he paused I held my breath, frozen under blankets the low quiet footsteps moved forward past my room past my grandmother's past my sibling's and a quiet groaning came from the door to my sleeping parents

I slipped out he didn't hear my feet on the stairs light and skipping the squeaky steps even in the dark I know my home

I heard a sudden sharp cry and slammed my hands over my mouth to prevent an echo my socks were silent on the old wood floors I fled to the kitchen creaking quietly out the back door

I heard a yapping he was with my grandmother now and the sudden silence was so much more terrible   than her lapdog's barking had ever been my sock absorbed the early dew from the grass as I crouched across the yard toward the garage

it was empty of course it was the old shed hadn't been used in years for much more than seasonal storage my pajamas were thin the air was cold my feet felt like they would freeze against the concrete

there was a low shriek my brother was gone then I huddled in the darkest corner disregarding cobwebs and dead bugs I would rather have the dead for company than a killer already I could hear the slam of a door as I huddled in the corner creeping back further into the dirty floor arms tightly around my knees and eyes slamming closed

there was another slam he knew I was gone and judging from the rattle he wasn't happy I prayed it was dark enough to hide my wet footprints through the grass

I could hear him stomping no attempts at quiet now his breathing was loud his walking was loud the flicking on of the flashlight was loud and I bit back a whimper and looked for a weapon a shovel anything

there were only dead leaves and dead bugs and soon to be dead me I heard him laughing he found my footprints my toes curled in my wet cold socks and I tensed freezing as I heard him start to speak

come out, come out wherever you aaaaare~

the tone came closer and he called my name my name he knew me

stop hiding! I'm not gonna hurt ya! the longer this takes the angrier I get

I tried to place the voice but I couldn't remember anything my head was high on panic my hands scrabbled for something anything all I found was dirt and dead things it would have to do

he came closer still in a sing song tone of frightening familiarity

i'm gonna fiiiiiiiiiind youuuuu~

I almost envied the rest of my family

their quiet sudden cessations as I tried to stay still as a statue as if that would somehow save me and my handful of gravedirt

the sudden blinding light of the flashlight through the window was as bright as day my eyes burned and blinked and cringed and I heard his fingers tapping on the window friendly teasing

there you are

I was blinded I couldn't see his face as more than a silhouette the light clicked off and we fell back into darkness and the door creaked open and I could only half see him eyes still adjusting but I could hear him his feet are heavy on the ground his breath was hard his laugh was quiet

he stood in front of me looking down at my still form his hands smelled like rust as he reached down and touched my face stroked my hair

there you are I found you

he wasn't expecting the beetles and spiders whose corpses flew in his face as I threw them and dove for his knees trying to push him over so I could get my chance maybe stomp on his throat at least break his nose shove the cartilage into his brain

but his hands stayed on my hair pulling until I had risen he seemed amused

were you trying to kill me kid?

I glared

twisted tried to break loose but I didn't answer my eyes had adjusted by then I could see his face

I knew him

he knew I knew him                                                                                                I had been trying to get away from him for years

his breath was fresh and i hated him for that that he wasn't as rotten and rank on the outside as in

the knife toyed at my stomach through the thin cloth I froze again snarling

you know the drill he whispered and I did though I thought I might have gotten away with it this time having a normal family and a normal life one day I swear I'll make it past my twenties

come home come home to your real family stop dawdling on this plane

I shake my head I will never go back there to the dark and the screaming and the twisting of mind and flesh beyond all reason beyond all hope divine delighted madness I will never go back home

he scowls my brother we've done this for centuries it's a game we'll play till the end of days

I'll just find you again stop being stubborn dad wants us back this is no time for hide and seek

I smile wouldn't do to leave him with a frown we used to be family after all but I'd rather have the dead for company than a killer I talk to him for the first time

next time, I'll kill you first

he rolls his eyes

you always say that

the knife slides into my abdomen slicing freezing it doesn't hurt he was right about that no pain it just kills

he sighs and lets me slide to the floor watches me slip on my side leaving behind a dead body for the dead bugs and dead leaves watching the dawning light in the window and moving on to the next cycle the next life another chance for a new family

tag you're it

I last longer every time this time I swear I'll make it past my twenties

[imaginexsa]

Funfair Troubles (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!! I’m so sorry for the super long break, I just had been so busy and was dealing with some stuff so yeah…anyways, I’ll try my best to finish up the requests and start writing again!! I’m so so sorry to those who have sent me requests that I have yet to write😅 I’m also sorry if this what you wanted anon, but I tried haha…yeah…enjoy!!

Request: Hey, i asked you about the bucky and baby fic that i saw you have put it up ^^ I was woundering if you can do one where their little boy gets taken while Bucky and his wife are at a funfair with him and they go to buy food and then they turn to their son and realise hes gone?

“Moooooom, hurry hurry!”

You laughed as you let Ben, your seven-year-old, drag you through the funfair, you using your free hand to hold on to your husband to make sure that he doesn’t get lost in the crowd. Bucky tightened his hold on you, making you glance back at him as you gave him a wink. “You better hold on tight or you’re gonna drift away.”

“Don’t worry, I’m holding on,” Bucky replied with a smile as Ben suddenly stopped, you stopping in time before hitting into him. Bucky moved to stand beside you as both of you looked the Viking ship that was swinging back and forth.

“Let’s get on that!” You son looked at you excitedly and you gave him a nervous smile before looking to your husband, you were definitely not a fan of thrill rides. Bucky raised a brow before moving to hold Ben’s other hand as you let go.

“Com’on, mom is too scared so I’ll go with you.” Bucky laughed as you gave him a look. You waved at them as they started making their way to queue up for the ride.

Sitting on a bench near the ride, you took out your phone to look at the pictures that you had taken so far, smiling as you looked at a selfie that the three of you took. You looked up as you saw Bucky and Ben making their way up to the ship, Ben turning back to wave at you as you grinned and waved back.

You crossed one of your leg the other as you watched Bucky and Ben putting on their seatbelts, you couldn’t help but snicker as you saw Bucky’s face draining of color as the ride started moving, Ben on the other hand was screaming in pure glee.

It was nice to take some time off work to spend time with your family like this. You sighed as you remembered all the work you had to get back to when the weekend is over, working for Tony Stark is not the most stress-free job. You took out your phone to see a few texts from Tony, most of them about the improvements to be made on one of the projects you, him and Bruce were working on. Clicking on the texts, you read through them.

“Remembered we agreed not to bother about work stuff during family time?”

You looked up as you saw Bucky looking at you with a raised brow. You gave him a sheepish look as you kept your phone back in your pocket before looking to Ben. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Ben nodded his head furiously, before chattering about the ride and how it felt and how Bucky tightened his grip so much with his metal arm that it dented the metal bar. You laughed as you looked at your husband. He shrugged. “I apologized.”

You got up from the bench as you smiled down at your son. “You want me to grab some food?”

“Yes, please,” he replied. “Can I wait here? I want to look at the ride.”

Glancing to Bucky, Bucky nodded. “But promise me you’ll stay in sight alright? And if anything happens, just scream.”

“Just scream,” Ben said at the same time as Bucky. “Yes, dad, I will.”

Bucky gave him a look before the both of you went to the nearest food vendor, you turning back to see Ben running to where one of the rides as he stared at it in awe. Turning back, you smirked as you looked at Bucky. “You were that scared, huh?”

Bucky glanced away from Ben as well as smiled back. “Says the one who didn’t even want to ride it.”

You chuckled. “Touché.”

After the both of you ordered the food, you two headed back to the bench you occupied earlier. You frowned as you came closer to the bench, before you felt your stomach drop in dread as you turn back to look at Bucky. “Where’s Ben?”

Bucky reached your side as he placed the food on the bench, before scanning the place, panic settling in as Ben was no longer in sight. You immediately dropped the food down as you ran to where you last saw him by the ride, frantically looking around but not seeing him. “Ben?!”

Bucky caught up to you as he grabbed your shoulder. “You go there while I take the other side, call if you find him.”

You didn’t reply as you tried to shrug him off, wanting to find Ben. Bucky shook you slightly. “Did you hear me? If you don’t calm down, we won’t be able to find him.”

Taking a deep breath in, you nodded and Bucky gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead before turning and striding off, shouting Ben’s name.

Alright, you need to calm down. Calm down. You called out for Ben as you pushed through the crowd, ignoring the stares from others. What would you do if anything happens to Ben? You shouldn’t have left him alone, you should have at least stayed with him.

You met up with Bucky again and when you didn’t see Ben with him you could feel all your composure slipping. Bucky noticed as he immediately reached out to you, holding you as you felt tears in your eyes. “W-what if something bad ha-”

“Hush now, nothing would happen to him,” Bucky assured you. “I just called Steve, he and the others are on their way.”

Just as he said that, you heard something fly past in the sky. Looking up, you saw Tony flying past in his Ironman suit as he scanned through the crowd. You felt your chest tighten as you straightened up, wiping your tears. “I need to go find him.”

Bucky looked to you before he nodded. “I’ll go the other side this time.”

You gave him a weak smile as you turned and called out for Ben again. You reached the edge of the funfair when you heard shouting, drawing your attention immediately. Following the sound, you saw a group of men, holding your son. You gasped as you ran out. “Stop!”

The group of four stopped and turned to look at you, Ben looking at you with teary eyes. “Mom!”

“Ah, mommy is finally here,” one of the men sneered. “Just you alone? Where’s big and scary daddy that the kid has been yapping about?”

You glared at them, anger now overpowering the relief you felt. “Let go of him.”

“Or what?” Another guy said. “A child like this can be sold for probably a few thousands or even millions.”

“Let. Him. Go.” You gritted out as you took steps towards them.

“What are you gonna do about it?” The first guy taunted. Suddenly, lightning struck near to where they were standing, making the group jump.

You saw a glint coming from the trees and straightened up. “It’s not me that’s gonna do something.”

“Wha-”

Before he could finish the word, a shield flew out from the trees and knocked him down to the ground. As they all turned around in surprise, the guy holding Ben loosened his grip, allowing Ben to wiggle out and into your arms.

You kneeled and hugged Ben close to you as Bucky suddenly strode past from behind you and took out the other three guys swiftly. You hugging Ben tighter so that he won’t turn and see how Bucky was acting, the look in Bucky’s eyes were straight up murderous.

“Bucky!” You called out, gaining his attention, scared that if you didn’t say anything, he would just kill all of them.

The guy who Steve knocked up started to get up, when Tony landed in front of him and aimed the repulsor beam in his hand at him. “Don’t move, buddy.”

When Bucky walked towards the two of you, Ben went to hug him and Bucky lifted him up, hugging him close. You walked towards the guy that was on his knees and staring at you in fear as you looked down at him emotionlessly.

“I hope you have fun rotting in jail,” you said coldly, before pulling your arm back and landing a hard punch directly on his temple, knocking him out again.

Tony let out a low whistle as he put down his arm, looking at you. “Nice punch, but I suggest you ice your hand when you get home.”

You winced as you tried to shake out the pain. “Jesus Christ, this hurts.”

Turning, you immediately walked back to Ben. “You alright, honey? Did they hurt you anywhere?”

Ben shook his head as you made sure he wasn’t hurt at all. Thor landed before you, and placed Mjolnir on one of the guys as he noticed him moving a bit.

You hugged Ben close again as you looked to them, tears in your eyes. “Thank you.” You looked back at Ben again. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone. If I didn’t, this wouldn’t have happened to you.”

“I’m okay, mom,” Ben said. “Dad and uncles came and save me. Mom you knocked out one of them too.” To emphasize that, he mimicked what you did just now, punching the air.

You smiled as Bucky kneeled beside both of you and hugged the two of you close, you sighing in relief as you leaned against his shoulder. “This gave me a hell of a scare. I’m so glad you’re okay, I’m so sorry I left you by yourself.”

“I’m fine, dad. It gave me a hell of a scare too,” Ben replied and you immediately gave Bucky a look for his use of language.

“Language,” Steve muttered and you laughed. You kissed the crown of Ben’s head and held him close. You were gonna let this happen to Ben again, and you know the others would never let this happen again as well. Never again.

Tags: @melconnor2007, @sammysgirl1997

[hannahindie]

At the End of All Things: Chapter 3

Characters: Dean x Jo, Sam x Amelia, Bobby x Ellen, Kevin, Ash, Charlie (brief mention), Cas Word Count: 2,147 Warnings: None really, unless you count having to leave the Impala behind. A/N: This is an AU/Crossover between Supernatural and Walking Dead. I’ve brought some characters back from the dead since it is an AU, and it’s going to be chock full of ships. I’ve always wondered how the Winchesters would make it in a world full of walkers, and what Rick’s crew would think of them, so this is my take on it. If you would like to catch up on Chapter 1, you can do so here, and Chapter 2 is here!

My dear, sweet @trexrambling beta’d this for me: “Dean's reaction is my reaction.” (In case you were wondering, the reaction was confusion and speechlessness lol)

As always, tags are at the bottom, and if you would like to be added please let me know!

Dean gave one last long look at the Impala before sliding the garage door shut and locking it.

“You sure you want to leave Baby behind?” Dean turned to see Jo standing at the edge of the driveway, her hand resting gently on her stomach. He smiled at her, enthralled by the way the sun shone off of her hair.

“She’s too loud and heavy. If we had to off-road it, she’d never make it. It’s too dangerous.”

“For Baby or for us?” Jo asked, laughing.

Dean closed the space between them and pulled her into him as he kissed the top of her head, “Would you judge me if I said both?”

“Only a little. I won’t tell anyone.”

They turned and made their way towards the town center, their fingers laced loosely. Today was the day. The day they risked everything for the slim possibility of finding a cure. Dean had begun to have second thoughts, but when he had walked outside this morning and saw those that were leaving saying goodbye to those staying behind, their faces full of hope, he had realized it was for the best. It may have been a wild goose chase, but at least they were trying. None of them had survived this long to just not try. As Dean and Jo approached the makeshift town square, he saw Sam leaning over one of the tables as he studied a map.

“Sammy, everything ready to go?”

Sam nodded, “Yep. We’ve got the quietest cars gassed up and packed. Garth is checking a few last minute things so we can stay in touch with Kevin. I’m going to make one more perimeter sweep, make sure the fences are secure, and I think we’re pretty much ready to head out.”

Dean clapped Sam on the back, “Great, man, sounds good.” People were beginning to fill up the square, their voices low as they gathered to say their last minute goodbyes. Bobby and Ellen were slowly making their way towards them, and Dean watched as Bobby slung an arm around Ellen’s shoulder and pulled her closer. She laughed at whatever it was he whispered in her ear, and Dean wondered if they should stay behind. He would give anything to watch them live out their lives safe and sound, and this mission almost guaranteed that that wouldn’t happen. As they approached him, Bobby caught his eye and grinned. He’d never listen to Dean; the only man he’d ever known to be more hard headed than his real father was his adopted one.

“Well, son, it’s about time. You sure you wanna do this?”

Dean nodded, “Yea, I’m sure. You?”

Bobby shrugged, “About as sure as I’m gonna get.” He looked over the crowd that was gathering and grunted, “Wish they’d just let us sneak outta here, I ain’t good with goodbyes.”

Dean chuckled, “You and me both, old man. You and me both.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes at Dean, “Watch who you’re callin’ old, boy. I can still kick your damn ass.”

Dean threw his hands up as if surrendering, “I don’t doubt it.” He looked around and saw Sam off in the distance, checking the fences one last time. Amelia was alone off to the side, leaning against a tree. He caught her eye and she stared at him silently. He gave her a tight lipped smile, but instead of returning it, she pushed away from the tree and walked towards where Sam was looping back around. Dean looked at Ellen and she shrugged; none of them ever knew what Amelia was thinking, and though they all tried to include her, she did not make it easy.

“Heyo Deano, I got Kev all set up. That equipment is as tight as the mini skirt on a White Snake groupie.” Ash hopped up onto the picnic table, his feet on the bench, and leaned back as he looked at Dean.

Dean stared at Ash for a moment, unsure of how to respond, “Umm...thank you, Ash, for that colorful and...confusing description.”

“No problemo. I left some instructions for him in case something went wrong, but I don’t think he’ll have any problems. It’s on a backup battery in case the the power grid goes down, and I got ‘em set up with a generator that is just for emergencies, so, they ought to be square for awhile. Are we gettin’ this party started or what?”

“Yea, we’re just waiting on Sam to get back from his last perimeter sweep and it’ll be time to go, I think.” He watched Cas go down the line of women he was constantly surrounded by, giving each one of them a hug and a kiss, and Dean had to bite back a laugh. If anyone had told him that Castiel, Angel of the Lord, would be high as balls all the time and into...whatever it was you wanted to call what he was into, he would have laughed in their face. He sauntered over and stopped next to Dean, who raised his eyebrows at the former angel. “You good?”

“Oh, yea. I’m great.” He stretched, “I need a break, anyway. You know how tiring it is to make love to that many women every night?”

Jo glanced over at Dean, a smirk on her face, “Well, Dean? Do you?”

Dean shook his head, “This is a trap, isn’t it? It’s a trap. But no, Cas, I don’t know. I would guess that it’s probably a hard time.” Jo snorted at his perfectly timed pun, and Dean elbowed her gently in the arm. “Shut up. Sinner.”

The rest of their little community were making their way over to where the main group was as Sam and Amelia made their way back towards the picnic tables.

Bobby leaned in close to Dean and whispered, “They’re gonna expect a speech. Give ‘em what they want so we can get the hell out of here, huh?”

Dean inwardly groaned. He was not much of one to give a speech, but Bobby was right. As he looked out over the crowd, their eyes were all on him. He wasn’t sure if he could say they were filled with hope. He was sure that most of them realized this was probably a dead end endeavor, but what he saw was trust. It didn’t matter the outcome of this, in the end.  What mattered was that they trusted him, they trusted in their family, and that was enough to fully convince Dean that what they were doing was right. Sam slowed to a stop at the back of the group, Amelia attached firmly to his side, and nodded. It was time.

Dean took a deep breath, looked at Jo, then back out to the crowd standing in front of him, and began.

“As you all know, we are heading out today to follow a lead that Garth and Ash received about a cure. Now, I’ll be the first to tell you that I think it’s a slim chance...the world that we knew has been gone for a long time, and for someone to still be working on a cure...well...it’s unlikely. But I think we all also know that Dick Roman is a tenacious bastard, so if anyone survived the hellscape out there and is working on a way to flip the switch, it would be him.” A quiet wave of laughter swept through the crowd, and Dean felt Jo squeeze his hand in encouragement.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen out there. It’s dangerous, and we’ve got a hell of a road to travel to get to Roman’s lab, nevermind getting inside. We may not even find anything. But I can’t sit by, knowing that there’s even a slim chance, and not even try. Some of you I have known for a long time. Some of you I’ve just met. But as far as I’m concerned, every single one of you are a part of my family, and I will do anything I can to keep you safe. We will do anything.”

A cheer rose, and Dean felt a faint flush creep across his cheeks. Sam smiled gently at him and gave him another nod, prompting him to keep going.

“Thanks to Ash, we have a way to keep in touch with all of you, and I know that you are going keep our homes safe. We are leaving you behind so that our little community can thrive. Remember to help those that you might find, and to use your best judgements. Hopefully we won’t be gone long, and we’ll be back before you know it. Now, I’m going to quit yapping so that we can get moving. Thanks for everything you do, and we’ll see you soon.”

Everyone cheered again, then moved in to give those that were leaving one last goodbye.

Dean reached out and grabbed Kevin’s arm as he was passing, “I need to talk to you.”

“Sure thing, man, what’s up?”

Dean stared at Kevin for a moment, surprised by how grown up he looked compared to when they first met, and smiled at him. Kevin’s brows knitted in confusion, “Are you okay?”

Dean nodded, “Yea, I’m fine. Uh, listen, thanks for staying behind, taking care of everything. I know you didn’t ask for that when you tagged along with us.”

Kevin shrugged, “I’m used to saving your asses, so this is nothing.”

“Yea, yea yea…” Dean paused as he slipped his hand into his pocket, “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

“Sure thing, Dean, anything.” Dean removed his hand and slipped a cool, metal ring into Kevin’s hand. Kevin looked down with wide eyes as he took in the smooth silver key, then looked back up at Dean. “Are you sure?” It came out as a whisper.

“Yea. I can’t take her with us. She’s not built for travel like this, and I don’t want to lose the keys. I locked up the garage this morning, she should be fine...just...keep an eye out, alright? I don’t know what’s going to happen out there...and I need to make sure someone knows where she is and will appreciate her. It might be the end of the world, but my baby deserves more than just sitting somewhere, rusting. So...keep her safe.”

Kevin looked back down at the keys, then carefully tucked them into his pocket, “I know the perfect place for them. You better come home, though. I don’t know enough about cars, and I need someone to teach me.”

Dean gripped Kevin’s shoulder tightly, “I..uh...I’m proud of you, Kevin. You’ve had a lot of shit thrown at you, and...well, you’re a lot different than when we met. What I’m trying to say is...just take care of yourself, okay?” Kevin nodded, unsure of what else to say, and Dean pulled him in for a quick hug before clearing his throat and straightening his jacket. “Alright, well, enough of that. We’ll be back soon. Baby better be in one piece when we get back.”

He stomped off and Kevin’s hand wandered back down to his pocket, his fingers tracing the outline of the key ring through the worn denim of his jeans. The moment Dean had handed him the keys, Kevin realized just how serious this was, and he was terrified this was the last time he’d see any of them. He slowly walked the rest of the way to the town center to join the crowd that were migrating towards the gates.

By the time Dean made it to the front gate, everyone had loaded up in their respective cars but him. He climbed in next to Jo and looked through his open window to the small crowd of people standing by the open gate. Charlie stood next to Kevin, her bright red hair shining beautifully in the sun. She waved at him, and Dean threw his hand up in return. And for a moment, he wondered if they should have brought her along. It was hard enough to leave everyone else, but Charlie…

He felt Jo’s hand slip over to his knee and squeeze gently, “You ready?”

Dean nodded, “Yea. Yea...let’s do this.” He started the car and rolled slowly through the gate. If all went as planned and they could drive most of the way, it should only take a couple of days to navigate the blocked roadways, then maybe a couple of days to locate the building and Dick Roman, and then a couple of days back. In all, the trip shouldn’t take more than seven days, ten if they were unlucky.

The creak of the gate closing behind them was almost deafening in the otherwise quiet neighborhood, and Dean took a deep breath.

There was no turning back now.

Read Chapter 4 HERE.

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At The End Of All Things: @jellersquad @babeonthebike 

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: Puppy Love

Author: @komaedakun / @givemerockruffs

For: @whimsicalbumblebee

Rating/Warnings: none!

Prompt: “Domestic Komahina buying a doggo ^ o ^”

Author’s notes: fun fact: when I got my cat, my mom and I just went to the shelter and got him on the spot lol.  no researching, no going to different shelters, we just got him. Anyway, this is a modern au :3.  I tried to make it as domestic as possible// also I apologize it’s a bit short…I had a little trouble figuring out what to write// I hope you enjoy it nonetheless; I tried my very best to make it sweet.  So, that being said, Komaeda is really excited about this pup…

    Komaeda never took interest in animals before.  If Hinata even talked about getting a plant for the windowsill, the immediate response he would be met with was “Oh, no, there’s no way it would last with someone like me around."  He got that same reply time and time again.

    So, when Komaeda first asked him about getting a pet, Hinata was surprised – as you could guess.  Surprised, yes, but he quickly agreed to the idea; he feared this would be their only chance at getting a furry friend, since Komaeda seemed to be in a good mood that day.  They agreed to start looking for their new pet the following day.

    That night, the white-haired turned to his boyfriend in bed and said: "I think we should get a dog." He nodded to himself.  "I used to have a dog.”

    Hinata stared back at him, pleasantly surprised once again.  The other rarely ever talked about things he “used to have”.  In fact, he barely spoke about anything in his past at all.  Komaeda really was having a good day.

     “A dog,” Hinata repeated, not all that thoughtfully.  “That seems nice.  They’re very cute,” he commented.  

    Komaeda nodded again in response, humming lightly.  “Yes, quite cute,” he agreed, then glanced toward the ceiling before turning back over in bed.  “Good night, Hajime.”

    Hinata silently hoped Komaeda would stay in this new mood.

   The next day, they followed through, and set out to the nearest animal shelter.  Komaeda insisted on adopting rather than buying; not that Hinata argued with him in the first place.  

    The brunette had never seen Komaeda so…genuinely happy.  He suddenly seemed to gain a whole new vibe when walking into that shelter.  His eyes lit up with childlike excitement; he got this big, stupid grin on his face…It made Hinata smile, in turn.  

    “Where d'you wanna look first?"  Hinata asked, and Komaeda reached out, took his boyfriend by the wrist and practically dragged him further inside.  No response was really necessary, he supposed.  

    Hinata glanced around at the many cats and dogs in the shelter; they were all in cages on the wall and yapping or meowing, as if begging to be the one taken home.  Komaeda seemed slightly overwhelmed, himself, eyes darting every which way in an attempt to take every dog in with a quick glance.

    The white-haired stopped in front of one of the walls, eyeing all the dogs – which were mostly tiny – in the area.  He dropped Hinata’s hand.

    "Y'know,"  Hinata began.  "We never really talked about what type of dog we wanted to get…are you interested in something smaller?"  He asked, sparing a glance at the Pomeranian Komaeda’s eyes were currently trained on.  

    "I think a small dog would better suit our lifestyle,"  he said, not looking at the other.  "Unless, you’re interested in something bigger?”

    “No, you’re right."   Hinata nodded in agreement.  In all honesty, he was glad; a big dog sounded like too much of a hassle.  It’d be easier to handle something tiny.  "You go ahead and look here, okay?  We still need to get supplies for a having a dog and…such.  Y'know, like a collar and food bowl."   Komaeda merely hummed in response.  "Okay, so, um, you have fun here; I’ll go look at that stuff.”

    Hinata walked away, leaving the other to admire the dogs, and approached the nearest worker.  She was short with pink hair and wearing a red t-shirt with black pants that Hinata assumed was her work uniform.  She was standing by a rack of toys, making sure they were all perfectly in place, albeit moving rather slowly.

    “Ah, excuse me,” Hinata said, feeling uncomfortable for interrupting her.  The worker glanced over her shoulder at him, blinking.

    “…How can I help you?"  She asked.

    "Oh, my partner and I are looking to adopt a dog, but…we don’t really have anything for a dog; we’ve never had a pet before.  You sell things like collars and such here, right?”

     She nodded slowly at him.   Hinata stole at glance at her name tag, which read “Chiaki”.  “Yes, we do.  Would you like me to help you look at them or something?  Well…what kind of dog are you getting?"  Chiaki tilted her head at him.

    "Oh, we don’t know yet…”

   “…That’s fine."  She rubbed at her eyes.  "Just get the collar afterwards..you can pick out toys and food and things like that now, though, if you want.”

    “Okay."  Hinata nodded.  "Thank you.  Ah, where can I find all that?"  

    ”…‘Room right of the front counter,“  Chiaki replied, pointing a finger in the general direction of the front of the store.

   "Thanks!"  The brunette said again, then turned and headed for the room.  Chiaki, meanwhile, turned back to the toys she had been fiddling with before.

    In the store area of the shelter (which, Hinata realized, was interesting that they had; typically, shelters didn’t have supplies for sale – you’d have to go to a pet store), Hinata picked out 2 small blue dog bowls – one for water, one for food – as well as a bag of name-brand kibble, a long black leash, an blank name tag for a collar, and a couple vegetable-shaped squeaky toys.  He’d felt happy with himself when he finished, and headed up to the front counter to pay. Once he’d finished, he took the bag of items and headed back into the cat/dog room and sought Komaeda out.  The sound of barking had only become a bit less bothersome.

    He found his boyfriend pretty quickly;  he was sitting on the ground with a tan-and-black Pug in his lap, laughing as it licked his cheek and wagged it’s curly little tail. Another worked stood close by to them.  Hinata couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

    ”'Found one you like, I see.“  Hinata walked over and sat down in front of him.  The dog’s snout twitched and it turned to Hinata in curiosity.  The brunette reached out and petted its’ head.  

     "She’s very sweet,"  Komaeda responded.  

     "Yes, and very cute…strange to see a Pug in the shelter, though.”

    “She’s missing a paw; that’s probably why,” his boyfriend informed him.  Hinata didn’t notice it at first, but, when Komaeda mentioned it, he saw that the dog was, in fact, missing an entire limb.  Her front right paw was just gone.

    Hinata frowned.  “That’s terrible."  He scratched her behind the ear and the Pug tilted her head against his hand slightly, enjoying herself.  ”…What’s her name?“

    "They call her Mabel, but they said we could change it if we decide to get her…”

    “Do you want to change it?”

    “No, not really."  Komaeda laughed.  "I think it’s a cute name.”

   “Me too."  Hinata glanced down at the Pug once again – now discovered to be named Mabel – and smiled lightly.  "Do you want to get her?"  He looked up at Komaeda slightly.  His boyfriend’s eyes were practically shining.  

    "I would love to take her home with us, yes.”

   Hinata nodded and stood up, looking over at the employee still standing beside them.  He was tall with gray-and-black hair, one red eye and one gray eye.  He had his arms crossed over his chest, and he eyed Hinata warily.

    “So, is this the beast with which you desire to seal your contract with?"  He bellowed.  Hinata was taken slightly off guard by the man’s…way of speaking.  The brunette looked down at his name tag.  "Gundham”.

    “Oh, um…yes?"  He said.  

    "Then, it shall be done."  Gundham nodded, eyes closing.  He opened them up again after a moment of silence.  "Please make your way to the front counter.”

    Hinata watched him go, blinking in slight confusion.  That was…strange, he thought.  'Interesting guy.

   “Isn’t this great, Hajime?"  Komaeda stood up, completely blowing over the exchange that just occurred.  "Our family is expanding!  We have a dog now."

 He smiled widely at the other.  If it means he keeps smiling like that, it really is great, Hinata mused.  He was lucky if he got a smile like that out of the man once a week.  He’d genuinely smiled like that, within the past hour, twice.  'New record.

   "Yes, it is.  She’ll be a great addition."  Hinata reached out and gave Mabel another pat on the head.  She panted, tongue lolling out.   "Lets go fill out all the papers we have to, now, so we can take her home.  Oh, and we have to pick out a collar for her.”

    “Of course!"  Komaeda walked alongside Hinata as they exited the room.  "I think she’ll enjoy her new home.  I know you’ll be a great dog parent, Hajime.  I’ll try my very best, too!”