#I am very tired and want to pet a dog so ... I’m looking at all of urs instead ..

[jobean12-blog]

The Best Worst Day Ever

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: You're having a shit day but then you see a dog and things start looking up...

Author's Note: We love a soft and sweet Bucky and dogs and bookstores and cookies and kisses- so here we are! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️The two bookstores I mention can be found here (Spoonbill and Sugartown) and here (Albertine Books). Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: a cute dog, Bucky saves the day (a few times), cookies, soft fluff, building tension, books

“You will not believe the day I had.”

You practically sigh the words into the phone, feeling at least slightly better at the sound of your best friends voice.

“Tell me everything,” she says.

You start to recap your shitty day but a large fluff of black fur across the street catches your eye.

“Oh my god…,” you start, completely derailing your previous thought. “There is this giant black dog across the street. I have to go pet it.”

Your best friend laughs, “of course you do,” and you can feel yourself start to form a real smile for the first time today.

“I’ll call you back,” you tell her.

“You got it,” she answers, not even questioning your behavior.

You start to cross the street, giving a quick glance in both directions before breaking into a jog. You’re just about to call out to the old man to ask if his dog is friendly, when you hear the screech of tires.

Your heart drops and your body instinctively reacts but all you feel is the whoosh of air that whips past you and a set of strong arms wrapped around your waist.

For a few long seconds you simply breathe, clinging to the solid warmth of whatever is holding you up.

“Are you ok doll?”

The voice is soft but deep and you look towards it, blinking against the bright sun, wondering for a moment if the car hit you and you’re dead and in fact, now in heaven.

Your fingers dig into soft leather as you stare at one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

“Am I dead?”

Bright blue eyes peer down at you, the corners lightly crinkling at your question. His gaze wanders over your face, his expression seeming to waver between awe and concern.

“No, I’ve got you. But are you ok?”

His words draw your attention to his mouth. Blinking again and trying to clear your head you finally manage to answer him.

“I…I don’t think so…I just wanted to pet the dog.”

His perfect lips curl up into a teasing smile and you have to drag your eyes away to focus on his blue ones. But the fact that you’re pressed against his solid chest and encased in the warmth of his arms does nothing to help your concentration.

With a slight tremble you start to sit up, but he doesn’t release you from his hold. He just moves with you and helps you to stand.

Once he feels you’re steady enough on your feet he removes his hands but stays close, clearly not convinced you’re fine.

You let out a shaky exhale and smooth your hands over yourself.

“That was so scary.”

You can feel the warmth of tears spring to your eyes and your vision starts to blur. He reaches out a gentle hand and places it on your arm.

“I’m sure it was. And while we could stay here I think it would be best to get out of the middle of the street. Why don’t we go sit?”  

He points to the bench on the sidewalk where the old man with the dog stands and watches.

As you approach the old man asks, “it’s a good thing this young man was here to save you. I could never move that fast.”

You glance at the “young man,” and he extends the hand that doesn’t have a secure hold on your arm to greet you.

“Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

“Thank you Bucky,” you say and then give him your name.

“Is she ok?” the old man asks Bucky.

“I think she’s gonna be fine,” Bucky says with a reassuring smile.

Bucky helps you onto the bench and as the dog moves closer, tail wagging, you blurt out in a rush, “can I please pet your dog?”

“Sure,” the old man says. “She’s very friendly.”

“What’s her name?” Bucky asks, as he kneels down to put his hand out for the dog to smell.

“Luna,” the old man replies, sitting down next to you on the bench.

You reach for Luna, letting her smell you before scratching her ears and leaning down to press your face into her soft fur.

Your focus stays on the dog until your heartbeat returns to normal, the conversation between Bucky and the old man lingering quietly in the background.

After a few more steadying breaths you thank the old man and Bucky helps him to stand, watching as he takes slow and small steps away from you, Luna in tow but still looking back at you.

Bucky stands and offers you his hand; strong and slightly clammy, and sparks fly, a curious look flitting across his stunning face as you both react to the touch. You fix your gaze on him and finally give yourself a chance to look. Your heart starts to crash against your chest all over again. You just sit there, staring.

He’s tall and the soft henley he wears beneath his leather jacket is fitted so that you can see the outline of the muscles in his chest. His eyes are the most beautiful blue, and the stubble covering his strong jaw does nothing to conceal the handsome features beneath it.

He smiles softly and for a moment you think you see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your obvious examination. He’s still holding onto your hand, and suddenly, seeming to come to his senses, he releases it and smooths his palm over his hair and then the back of his neck.

You feel a flush of heat move through you.

“You’re sure you’re ok doll?”

You nod.

“She should probably eat something.”

At the old man’s gruff voice both you and Bucky startle and turn to see him standing just a few feet away, a knowing smile on his face. Obviously, he didn’t get very far.

“He deserves a date for savin’ your life there young lady.”

With a decisive nod he dismisses you and Bucky and calls to Luna to finally continue on his way.

You feel Bucky’s eyes on you, and you look back up at him from your seat.

“Food?” you ask quietly.

“Let’s go,” he answers, his easy smile returning. “I know just the place.”

The butterflies stay firmly planted in the pit of your empty stomach and you stand so abruptly that you teeter forward and into his arms again. He catches you with two hands splayed at your waist and the urge to bury your heated face against his chest is overwhelming.

“I’m really having a day,” you mutter. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I’m just happy I’m here to help.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

He falls into an easy stride beside you and a huff of laughter falls from your lips before you say, “I can’t believe I almost died trying to pet a dog.”

“I get it,” Bucky says, throwing you a wink.

You’re careful with your footing, still somewhat shaky from the whole ordeal but when your attention turns back to Bucky, his eyes trailing across your face, seeming to linger on your mouth before lifting to your eyes, you stumble, your foot catching a crack in the sidewalk.

He grabs your bicep to steady you, and you groan. “Shit, you must think I’m hopeless.”

“That person’s driving skills having nothing to do with you,” he assures you as he gently leads you toward the restaurant. “And everyone likes to pet dogs…or at least they should.”

His voice is gentle, and you avoid his gaze, his hand still curled securely around your arm as you come to stop outside the restaurant.

He only let’s go to open the door and usher you in with a soft press of his hand to your lower back.

The flutter of butterflies that you keep trying to ignore are back in full force and when Bucky stops at a table and pulls out the chair for you the gesture has you feeling faint.

You must be starved.

With a monumental effort to relax you sit back in the chair and cross your legs. His gaze automatically flickers downward and be visibly swallows before quickly looking away.

There’s a definite blush on the tops of his cheeks now.

“The pizza here is really good.” His voice sounds extra rumbly, maybe even a little hoarse.

You pick up a menu and start to fan yourself without even thinking. “I’m sure it is.”

“Do you live close by?” you ask him.

“Just a few blocks away. I’m here all the time.”

Before you can ask any more questions, an older woman appears beside your table with a beaming smile.

“Barnes has finally showed up with a girl!” she sings. “And a beauty at that.”

You hide your giggle behind the menu and peer at Bucky.

“This is Millie,” he says, his smile wide. “She owns the place and loves to bust my chops.”

You introduce yourself, delighted and Millie’s warmth.

“Are you having the usual?” Millie asks Bucky.

He nods and looks to you.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” you tell Millie.

“I like her already,” Millie says before rushing back off to the kitchen.

Bucky sits forward, his arms crossed in front of him and now that he’s taken off his leather jacket there is more of him to admire.

His blue eyes are focused entirely on you, and you try not to blurt out your thoughts about how nice his biceps looked in his shirt so instead you clamp your mouth shut and look around the cozy space.

You fall into easy conversation and when the food comes the silence is comfortable while you eagerly eat it, not realizing how hungry you really are.

After your stomach is full, Bucky pays the bill, even after you offered several times, pleading with him that you owed him at least that after saving your life.

He waves you off and hands Millie the cash then holds his hand out for yours.

At the feel of his skin tension immediately springs between you, and you scramble to think of something to say.

He beats you to it.

“What are your plans for the weekend?”

Grateful for the distraction, you reply, “well, I usually spend my Saturday afternoons at this little bookshop in my neighborhood.”

“Is it Spoonbill and Sugartown?”

Your eyes widen and light up.

“YES! You know it?”

“I do. I used to go all the time. Haven’t been in a while though. I love the smell of the old books.”

A rush of attraction sweeps over you like a wave and your hand squeezes his.

“You could meet me there tomorrow? If you’re not busy?”

“Yeah. I’d love that,” he says, grabbing the door and holding it open so you can exit the restaurant.

“Which way are you?” he asks, still holding your hand.

You point right toward Bedford Avenue.

“Come on, I’ll walk ya home doll.”

“Is it out of your way? I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

He chuckles before leaning down to press a quick, surprising kiss to your cheek.

“Nah, it’s not and I really don’t mind.”

You are in love.

Inside the old bookstore, with its vaulted ceilings and shafts of light pouring through the skylights, you stare at the rows and rows of bookshelves.

Through the aisles there is something to catch the eye at every turn. Not just books, but interesting and antique Tiffany lamps and various knick knacks that make you smile. Reading areas are set up in breaks between the shelves, tables with chairs so people can lounge, read, and drink their coffee and eat their desserts.

You let out a contented sigh. On purpose, you arrived a bit early, hoping the familiarity and comfort of the store would calm the persistent butterflies that have taken up a permanent residence in your stomach since your literal run in with Bucky.

As you’re falling deeper under the spell of the leather lined bindings and dusty-smelling pages a soft voice calls your name.

You look up and see Bucky standing at the end of the aisle. He’s dressed casually but different from yesterday, his dark jeans fitted to his muscular thighs and his black tee shirt showing off those perfect arms and chest.

He steps closer and greets you with another kiss to your cheek, this time, closer to the corner of your mouth.

You close your eyes briefly, inhaling his scent and steadying yourself on your feet. Before you can actually swoon to the floor you tell him about the expansion they recently built in the back with a rush of enthusiastic words.

Taking his hand, you lead him to the new section, practically running.

Laughing at your overexcitement, he squeezes your hand.

“You’re very cute.”

When you turn to look at him, something in his eyes makes your skin heat and you have to look away again, but not before you give him a thankful smile.

You expect him to let go of your hand once you reach the back, but he doesn’t.

“Have you ever been to Albertine Books?” he asks.

You stop and think.

“No, I don’t think I’ve even heard of it.”

“It’s easy to miss,” he explains. “It’s inside the French Embassy and has mostly French language books and translations from French into English, but it’s gorgeous.”

“Really?” you say with uninhibited joy. “Will you take me there sometime?”

You’re too busy deciding which part of the expanded bookstore you want to show him first to see his expression, but you hear the affection in his tone when he replies, “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, doll.”

Your heart flutters.

Your hand gets clammy, and you gently pull it away, trying to use the shelves and the books lining them to refocus yourself.

He stays with you, content to watch you peruse the bindings, moving from bookshelf to bookshelf.

The book titles quickly become a blur as your awareness zeroes in on one thing, one person.

Bucky.

You feel the warmth of his presence, hovering at your back, and feel the heat of his gaze on your face. The skin on your cheek tingles and you can still feel the press of his lips.

Your breathing grows shallower as his fingertips brush against the small of your back, a gentle touch, but searing through your clothes.

Busy frantically pondering how to navigate the chemistry you share; you don’t realize the book you halt in front of until it’s too late.

A romance novel with a couple in a sexy position on the cover.

Just perfect.

His fingertips press deeper against your lower back, and then you feel the whisper of his lips on your ear as he comments, “interesting choice.”

You make the mistake of turning your head toward his and find his nose just inches from yours.

Your eyes lock for a second before his gazes drops to your mouth. Your body sways slightly toward his, and he takes the movement as an invitation, his head dipping those last few inches.

“Excuse me.”

A voice, loud and close, jolts you away from Bucky, whose mouth had just been millimeters from touching yours.

“I just…want that book.” An arm reaches between you and Bucky, and dazed, you look over to see a woman. She seems unfazed by the fact that she clearly interrupted a moment, and you grab the book for her.

She gives you a thin lipped smiled and darts away.

After a second or two of staring after her, you finally draw up the courage to meet Bucky’s eyes.

His cheeks are pink again and he’s rubbing his palm on his jeans.

Looking over his shoulder you spot the coffee and dessert counter.

“Ooh!” you say, hurrying towards it. “Let’s get a cookie!”

Bucky follows and you turn to him, smiling through the awkwardness.

“You have to try the double chocolate chip.”

He bends down to peer into the display case. Your eyes meet, and just like that you’re too close for your body to handle. You swallow hard.

“It’s delicious. And the chunks of chocolate are gooey.”

His eyes are trained on your mouth as he murmurs, “maybe we should get two.”

“Good idea. I can eat a whole one easily on my own. We might even need three.”

You sound breathless.

“Hm.” He’s not even listening to your words at this point. His focus is on your lips, his eyes are hooded, and he is definitely going to attempt to kiss you again.

“What can I get for you?” the worker behind the counter asks, smiling brightly when the two of you jerk your heads up.

“Four double chocolate chip cookies,” Bucky blurts out, then follows with a soft, “please and thanks.”

Once you have your cookies in your hand you head to one of the back tables and sit, stuffing nearly the whole cookie in your mouth.

It’s so good that for a moment you forget yourself and moan around the bite.

Bucky clears his throat, and you lock eyes. His reaches across the table, his strong fingertips gripping your chin, and he bends his head toward yours. He halts when he’s close enough that you can see the patches of gray in his beard and feel his warm breath fan your cheek.

With the softest brush of his calloused thumb, he wipes away some chocolate from your bottom lip.

“Had a little chocolate smudge right there,” he whispers.

You slowly nod and your tongue darts out to lick your lips. His eyes track the movement, and he releases you, biting into half of his own cookie.

“These really are amazing,” he says around the mouthful.

You nod again, too flustered for words.

The two of you eat all four cookies and despite wanting to distract yourself with more you leave the bookstore and let him walk you home once again.

When you stop outside your building you fiddle with your hands and look anywhere but at him.

“I had the best time,” he says, drawing your attention.

“Me too,” you say quietly.

“When can I take you to Albertine Books?” he asks, as he takes a tentative step closer.

“Tomorrow?”

It’s a hopeful question. One you couldn’t stop yourself from asking even if you wanted to.

“I’d love that doll.”

A deep tug low in your belly makes you bite your lip. You love the use of that endearment and after spending most of the afternoon so close to him you’re nearly at your wits end.

His gaze fixes on yours and his jaw tightens at whatever he sees in your expression then he closes the distance and slides his arms around you, his hands coasting slowly up your back.

He lifts a hand to your cheek, sweeping his thumb across your soft skin and splaying his hand to draw you closer.

“If someone interrupts us this time…” he says, tone full of warning but still teasing.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t even notice if there was a dog nearby for me to pet,” you say with a smile.

He laughs and bumps your nose with his.

“Not even a dog huh?”                                                                                   

You shake your head, and your eyes start to close as your hands grasp the front of his shirt. You feel the heat of his breath first, the warning before his lips touch yours. And when they do, it’s barely a brush, a hot, glancing touch.

Your fingers close more tightly around the fabric of his shirt, silently urging him to really kiss you. You’re desperate for it.

Another whisper of a of kiss, then a slightly deeper press, a nibble on your lower lip. A whimper escapes you.

It shatters whatever restraint he’s grounded himself with and his hand splayed at your back hauls you against his body as his mouth presses to yours.

You open your mouth to let him in, and his groan of satisfaction rumbles through you. The tickle of his scruffy jaw is rough in the just the way you’d hoped it would be and when you feel the slide of his hands down your back, the smooth strength of him under your touch, you completely melt into the kiss and the rest of the world fades away.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

An extra stubborn reader who wants Bucky to actually get solid sleep in an actual bed so they refuse to sleep anywhere but the floor unless he’s in bed. Not the sofa, not a recliner, nothing. They’ll be in bed with him if he asks, but it’s the cold floor or nothing. No blanket. No pillow. Either he gets his butt in bed or they sleep alone, cold, and on the floor.

Let’s just say that James Buchanan Barnes sleeps well in bed that night.

🩵🩵

The Bed Or Nothing » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You try to convince Bucky to sleep in the bed so he can get a good nights sleep.

Warnings: Fluff, implied Smut (18+), language, stubborn!reader, kissing, Bucky’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Can you not do this tonight, doll. I’m tired and I have to work tomorrow.” Bucky pleads tiredly.

You’re trying to convince Bucky to sleep in the bed with you so he can get a good nights sleep tonight.

“Do what?” You asked. “All I’m trying to do is get you to sleep in the bed with me tonight.” You say, trying to reason with your boyfriend.

“I’m perfectly fine with sleeping on the floor, doll.” He says.

“You’re not perfectly fine the next morning when you’re complaining about your back hurting.” You say.

“That was one time.” He says.

You just rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” He says, almost growling.

“I won’t have to roll my eyes if you just sleep in the bed.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m sleeping on the floor.” He says.

“The floor isn’t an option anymore.” You say.

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch.” He says.

“The couch isn’t an option either.” You say.

Bucky sighs and rubs his hands over his face, too tired to deal with your stubbornness tonight.

“You’re doing it again, babydoll.” Bucky says.

“Doing what again?” You asked.

“Being stubborn.” He says.

“I am not.” You say.

“Yes you are.” He says.

“I am not!” You say, stomping your foot like a child who doesn’t get their way.

“Now you’re being extra stubborn.” He says.

“I’m not being stubborn!” You said once more. “I’m simply trying to get you to sleep in the bed with me so you can get a good nights sleep tonight.” You say.

Bucky leans against the wall and sighs at your stubbornness.

“That’s all you have to do, baby.” You say.

“You know how I feel about sleeping in beds, babydoll.” Bucky says.

“I know, but I’ll be in bed with you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

You stood up on your tippy toes to kiss his lips.

“Please sleep in the bed with me tonight.” You pleaded softly against his lips.

Bucky put his forehead against yours, his tired eyes looking in yours. He already knows you won’t stop being stubborn till he agrees to sleep in the bed with you.

“Ok, fine.” He sighs, giving in. “I’ll sleep in the bed tonight.” He says.

“Yay!” You kissed him again. “Oh and one more thing… no blankets and no pillows on the bed tonight.” You say.

“Then you’re going to be cold tonight.” He says.

“I won’t be if you get your ass in bed tonight.” You bit your bottom lip. “I have another heat source in mind.” You say seductively.

“Oh yea?” He says.

“Mhmm.” You hummed.

You unwrapped your arms from his waist and walked over to the bed. You took the pillows and blankets off of the bed, putting them in a pile next to the dresser. A squeak left your lips when Bucky picked you up and dropped you on the bed. He hovered over you, his Army dog tags dangling above your face.

“Looks like I have to fuck the stubbornness out of you tonight.” Bucky says huskily.

Let’s just say, Bucky slept very well in bed tonight.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

MICHELLE PFEIFFER- J. TODD

day fourteen of the june bug masterlist

pairing: older! mechanic! jason x innocent! fem reader

word count: 1.6k

summary: your car starts acting funny in the middle of nowhere, with no cell service or tow trucks in sight. you do the only thing you can do- wave now the nearest truck and pray for the best. luckily, your prayers are answered, because the man helping you turns out to be jason todd, a mechanic whose pretty... good with his hands.

warnings: SMUT! smuttiest of the smut, heavy praise kink, pet names, not manipulation per say (maybe a little but its jason todd who cares he can do whatever he wants to me) - but a power imbalance? (reader really has to rely on jason), daddy kink, finger sucking, degration/ heavy dumbification, manhandling and huge size kink

i was rlly horny when i wrote this lol. but im proud and happy with it :)

 “and everythings easier way out west, wholly mad and half undressed, i love the way it always feels to miss you. i tell all my friends everything you do, a sick obsession that i still try to prove- and but it's no good, cause who am i without you?”- michelle pfeiffer, ethel cain 

This was probably one of the worst things that could be happening at this very moment.

And of course, it had happened to you.

Here, all alone- in the hot summer heat, your tire gone flat. On the hottest day of the year, barely a tree for shade and your car already low on gas- you realized you had hit a new all time low.

Tears spilled out from the corners of your eyes, the humid wind brushing them away as you stepped out of the car- pulled off on the side of the road.

You had a spare tire- but you didn't know how to put it back on.

Needless to say, you could try.

There was no cell service out here to call for any means of help, as you were in the deep country, surrounded by hay bales and brush.

Your lower lip quivered, and you braced a hand on the car, as if your touch could magically fix the issue. You had to be a big girl, and figure this out yourself, you told yourself- but god you just wanted to sob more than anything.

Then- as if God himself had heard your call- a truck came up over the bend- leaving a trail of dust in its wake. All you could think to do was stand on your tippy toes, trying to get the driver's attention as you waved.

Please. Please stop.

And he slowed.

You could just make out his figure, tall and large, built of solid muscle. He looked strong. He could lift the tire, knowing damn well you couldn't by yourself.

His truck engine sputtered to a halt as he parked behind you, and you were so relieved you started to cry again. He stepped out, streaks of grey in his darkened hair, tattoos snaking around biceps that were the size of your head.

He was old enough to be your father. But his eyes were so pretty, all warm and coaxing as he approached you, as if you were a startled dog.

“Hey sweetheart what's going on?”

His gaze instantly dropped when he got close enough to see the tears staining your cheeks, rushing to place a hand to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Awh little fawn don't cry. Shh, shh it's alright. What's going on? Why are you here all by yourself?” he asked softly, as you tried to pull yourself together.

“I was just driving and I just- my car-”

”Hey, hey calm down. It's okay. I promise.” he smiled and you nodded, wiping your fresh tears.

“I got a flat tire and I don't know how to put on the new one. And it's too heavy for me to grab and I just-”

You sighed, trailing off, kicking the ground.

“Well you’re in luck, fawn, I happen to be a mechanic. M’ Jason. Jason Todd.” he rubbed your arms in a soothing motion, forcing you to look up at him, staring into his intoxicating blue eyes.

“I’m Y/N. Thank you, so, so much Mr. Todd.”

“Oh god don't call me that. You make me sound old. I don't need reminders.” he teased, making you giggle.

“There's that pretty smile. See? It's alright fawn. Let me just get your spare, okay?”

You nodded, stepping aside to let him do his thing. He was so large he seemed to tower over your little camino, lifting the tire with ease from the trunk. You watched in awe as he hoisted it up onto his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

A drip of sweat trickled down his bicep, tracing the ink on his skin and you caught yourself ogling like a cartoon character. You wouldn't be surprised if little hearts fluttered around your head, and you trailed behind him as if he was a fresh pie through an open window.

Stranger danger was a foreign concept today, but honestly, you didn't like to think about that danger.

Everyone was nice, at least you liked to think so. And Jason was super nice.

Stopping to help you fix your car? He just seemed to be the nicest man in the whole wide world.

A cluck of his tongue and a sigh broke you from your lovesick trance, and you peered over his shoulder as he crouched, examining the tire with a shake of his head. “Is everything okay Jason?”

He sighed. “M’afraid not fawn. This tire is no good either.”

“Oh! Well…what's wrong with it?” you asked timidly, trying to get a better look. He blocked your view from the commotion though, sweeping you up with his syrupy voice and southern charm.

“Nothin you need to worry your pretty lil head about darlin. But, I dont think it's safe to drive on. Do you wanna come with me to my shop and we can grab a new one and come back?” he asked, empathy rolling off him in waves you were swept up in.

Why couldn't you trust him? He was nurturing, wanting only the best for you. Plus, wasn't it dangerous for a little girl like you to be out here all alone?

You would be safe with Jason, he was a nice old man who probably just wanted to keep you hydrated and out of the sun- and any bad onlookers who would lure you in their trap.

There was no question to be asked, no second guessing.

You felt yourself nodding, happy and eager for him to lead you, a large hand on your lower back, all warm through the thin fabric of your little white dress.

“Good girl. No more tears, okay? I got you sweetheart.”

·•—–٠✤٠—–•· ·•—–٠✤٠—–•·

“Look at you, pretty lil thing. All those pretty tears.” Jason cooed above you, pounding into your tight cunt so hard you started to see stars.

All that could be heard was his sweet praises and gentle coos, mixed with the sound of skin slapping and your short gasps, and gentle moans. You couldn't help the tears from falling again as he splayed you out on a workbench, dragging you to the edge and splitting you in two.

He was so big and thick you couldn't think straight, and with the pace he was setting- it was as if he had no sign of stopping. You felt his thumb brush away the salty tears as you hiccuped, moaning as he slipped his fingers in your mouth.

You instantly sucked them, pacifying yourself as a means of grounding.

“Atta girl. Daddys gotcha.”

You clenched around him at the name he gave himself, and he chuckled lowly. “Oh you like that, don't you fawn? You like when Daddy takes care of you? Makes things all better, cause you're too lil to figure it out yourself?”

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed as he thrusted even harder, balls slapping your ass as the bench banged against the wall, making the tools above you jolt.

He had you wrapped around his finger.

That was the plan all along of course. He was always keen to help a stranger, but you? He knew he couldn't leave you, just quite yet.

So yes, he had told you there was an issue when there truly wasn't- but could you blame him? How else was he supposed to take care of you the way you so desperately deserved?

Jason could tell as soon as he saw the quiver of your lip and the anxious fidgeting with the hem of your dress that you had needed this- needed him for a while. And he was more than happy to oblige to your needs.

He watched as your legs started to quiver from pleasure, like a little newborn fawns. His little deer.

A thin line of spit trailed his fingers as he pulled them away, letting your whines and moans get louder. You clawed at his biceps, gripping them tight as his pace refused to falter.

Daddy daddy ohhh- Was all you could muster out, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“Yeahhh sweetheart just like that. Grippin me so tight- s’like you were made for me hm? You needed someone to take care of you baby? To split this lil cunt in half like she deserves?”

You nodded absentmindedly as you let the pleasure wash over you- holding onto him as if he were your savour.

He was- your savior. And he’d be damned if he’d let you forget it.

“Gonna cum please daddy can I-”

“Can you? Oh look at you, using your manners without me even reminding you. You’re such a good girl baby, go ahead n cream around this cock lil fawn.”

You cried, wails bouncing off the walls- sounding like sweet music to his ears, as if it was coming from his old radio in the corner he’d whistle a tune to while he worked.

But your sounds were much, much better. So sweet and delicate- your face all contorted in pleasure, nose scrunched, eyes clenched shut as you let go around him.

All he could do was coo at you, his sweet little girl, planting soft kisses to your face. You were so soft and gentle to him on the ride over, thanking him endlessly, clenching your thighs as he dared to slip a hand down to rest on your thigh.

Swooning over him, like a love sick puppy.

He didn't miss the way you stared at him when you thought he wasn't looking. And maybe it was wrong, for him wanting to corrupt such a sweet angel like you, so innocent and eager to do right by him for a simple gesture of kindness.

But he couldn't help himself.

And this? Peering down at the bulge in your stomach from where his cock rearranged your insides?

This was payment, and then some. 

[dragon-queen21]

Agere Tier list

I asked for people to send me in characters and then I would rank them. This was open fandom so half of the characters I didn't know and simply went off of vibes. If you agree, awesome! Disagree or have something to add, feel free to reblog and ramble. Just please don't get angry at me is anything is super off

Characters and short explanations below: (If I had one, I kinda gave up half way on some so forgive me if these aren't my best)

Stardew Valley~

-Harvey: Caregiver! Tired dad vibes for real, who always drinking too much coffee. Little one giving him puppy dog eyes is just like ‘oh, you want some too?’ <- terrible idea, he’ll never learn /lh

Pokemon~

-Prof. Sycamore: Caregiver or babysitter, just because I feel like he would be quite forgetful. Like unless his little one has obvious tells that they are regressed (ie. Using a pacifier, slurred speech, different comfy clothes, etc.) He’s going to just forget, or just overlook it. Ah I don’t know how to put that. Like he’s still sweet and caring just… a bit silly me thinks

-Kaiwe: Flip, big brother regressor/caregiver

Animal Crossing~

-Bones (animal crossing): Toss up between being a babysitter known for spoiling the littles he looks after with treat and cuddles, or a regressor… I’m leaning more towards babysitter personally. Also I think he would help his little one in the making of putting on a puppet show;

-Isabell: Flip, regressor leaning

-Tom Nook: Babysitter. In the sense that he is very aware of those who regress on the island and gives them little tasks to in exchange for stickers or treats

Star Trek~

-Bones/ Leonard McCoy: Well maybe I am biased but caregiver coded. He just ahs a very dad vibe about him you know? Plus being a doctor and with a knowledge of psychology I just know he’d be familiar with what age regression is

Lego Ninjago~

-Lloyd: Regressor/ pet regressor He would be a little dragon. I think I remember Cole being scared of dragons in the pilot episodes, so umm he definitely sneaks up on the other, roaring and trying to scare him

-Kai: Flip, caregiver leaning. Super sweet. The kind of caregiver who thinks that most problems can be solved with ice cream and cuddles

-Nya: Flip caregiver leaning. I feel like she's regressed with her brother before either because he wanted a playmate, or just to be like there's nothing to feel bad about. So maybe that would put her more as an age dreamer... hmmm welp, too late to redo the list now XD

-Cole: caregiver, going off of the wiki here but the fact that he seems to be very parental to those younger than him. Hates letting his little one down, so even over the smallest detail he's going to make sure everything goes smoothly to the best of his ability

Genshin~

-Ayato: I was going to say caregiver, but upon further consideration, puppy regressor. Wants to be little with his sister around but also, no talking, he’s delt enough with people all day if he wants interaction then he’ll initiate it himself. And being in puppy space no need to talk, just woofs. Also because of his role the idea of ‘age regressing’ in the typical sense leaves a bad taste in his mouth

-Ayaka: Caregiver coded. Looks after her brother a lot but also just enjoys being able to still take care of someone but just with less pressure to do everything perfect. Healing in it’s own way. I think maybe she would age dream from time to time, but never fully regress

-Aether: To no ones shock at all, regressor. I want to say that back with his sister he was a flip and they would take care of each other but without his other half and way to much put on his shoulders he’s solely just a little one now

-Wriothesley: Puppy regressor, specifically a german shepherd or Doberman, or any other dog breed with ‘scary dog privileges. Thinks he’s the scariest little guy. His caregiver’s see him as their adorable pup.

-Venti: Caregiver who's the best with baby regressor's. They're his little wisp and he plays lullaby's for them and is just the best at settling down fussy little ones.

-Kaeya: Caregiver. He has the best stories to tell his little ones and he definitely spoils them rotten. Regressor so much as looks at something twice and he'll get it for them

-Diluc: Flip caregiver leaning + pet regressor. Something something being a wolf regressor. He would probably chomp on his brother's arm just to annoy him, but also love noms. Also like I have said waaaay too many times on my blog, he would just have a soft spot for little ones trust me.

-Albedo: Regressor & pet regressor. Never really had a real childhood so age and pet regression kinda blur within one another. Snow leopard regressor or a husky regressor. He can spend an abnormal amount of time out in the cold and is quite content in doing so.

Overwatch~

-Mercy: Caregiver Oooh big sister caregiver. Going purely off of vibes but I mean. She just feels like she would be great with baby regressors. Just to be swaddled in soft blankets and fluffy wings to protect you. Also adding wanting to look after her little ones in a way that she was never taken care if as a child

Ace Attorny~

-Maya: Pet regressor. She’s has a kitten space that’s always getting her into mischief.

AOT~ We are going off of vibes here purely because I don’t know the first thing about this series

-Armin Arlert: Toddler regressor or baby space regressor, I can't quite come to a decision. Curious kiddo who is so easily distracted by everything

-Eren Jaeger: Middle regressor, usually older than Armin, though I could also see him being a toddler in his terrible twos. Lot of temper tantrums/meltdowns when little because of having so many emotions just bubbling over the surface.

-Mikasa Ackerman: Oh yeah 100% caregiver coded. I was going to label all three as littles, but I just think she needs to look after someone just to heal from her own childhood. Also because her friends are all she has left she wants to make sure they're as happy and comfortable as possible

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one (this one) // part two: Afterglow

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Miguel falls for the sweet spider girl that opens a bakery on the HQ. Of course he had to ruin it, but… Did he lose the girl? 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ age gap (legal, not specified), implied Hispanic reader, angst, asshole Miguel, pastries and sweets,idk, no proofread 𝐀/𝐍_ read along cruel summer from my playlist!<3 (cruel summer coded fic)

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Miguel O’Hara thinks you’re annoying, always giggling like a toddler and gossiping with everyone. Except him.

He had to accept you were creative; your iridescent suit was proof of it.

Your friendship with the spiders that gave the most terrible headaches to Miguel was annoying.

You’re laughing very hard with Gwen in the middle of the gym sector.

When Miguel looks up, he sees Miles tangled in a tight of webs in the ceiling.

“What is going on here?” He asks, walking in completely.

“Oh-“ Gwen mumbles, the laughing seizing.

“Hey, Miguel!. Can you help me come down?” Miles asks, causing you and Gwen to start laughing again.

Soon, silence reigned again after Miguel sent you and the blonde girl a death look.

The man rolls his eyes and sighs, tired. However, he goes and helps Miles to get down.

“pss…” Gwen whispers, indicating you quietly leave the gym. You nod, smiling.

It had been almost a year; since Miles learned about his destiny since the spot almost killed everyone, and since you joined the Spider society.

Yeah, a lot happened.

“I never said you two could leave…” Miguel spits without even looking. When he does, you and Gwen are holding hands, looking scared as if a spook was in his place. He could laugh if it wasn’t because of the image he had to maintain.

“I asked for that earth-01989 report two hours ago…” he said, frowning at Gwen.

“And I needed you in today’s mission with me,” so Miguel wanted you; he needed you out of all the spiders in the facility.

“I was in the nursing room getting stitches. See?…” you say, lifting your arm to show your bare skin sewn with a fine thread. Some blood was decorated around the long line that would likely transform into a scar.

Miguel’s angered face softened.

“Are you okay?” Even Gwen seems abashed when Miguel asks you that.

“Yes. It was this tedious variant of Mysterio and his projectiles” Miles finally appears on Miguel’s side, hearing the conversation.

“I don’t want you on any mission until that heals”

“Are you kidding?” You ask incredulously, thinking your boss was exaggerating.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” He could not be intimidating. Always making sassy comments, with a monotonous tone.

“I guess not…” Your face barely brushed his chest. And the one and only time his hand holds your body, you feel like a porcelain doll, small and delicate.

“Buena chica….” He finalized petting your head and starting to leave. It annoys you; you weren’t a dog.

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Use your imagination, y/n. You’re a creative spider…”

Gwen, Miles, and you just stare in silence.

He thought you were creative; how sweet.

…

Miguel just finished a debriefing. He was finally alone until Jess entered the room, at least without her loud motorcycle.

“What are you doing? It’s lunchtime,” she points out.

Miguel smells sweet, sugar… or something soft.

“I don’t take my lunchtime. You know it…” When the woman stands beside him, he sees it.

There’s a little plate on her hands. Spider cupcakes and a cookie… with his mask as a decoration.

“What’s that?” He asks in disbelief.

“What? This?. Oh, it’s from y/n’s bakery” Miguel looks confused.

“…y/n’s bakery?” Jess shrugs, biting the cupcake.

“Yeah, you said the aisles beside the cafeteria could have a renovation.”

“I never approved a bakery.” He wasn’t mad but wanted to know why you didn’t ask. He would have said yes, only to you.

He started to move towards the exit and heard Jess sighing.

“Don’t be harsh with her, Miguel. It’s making everyone happy…” he didn’t say anything.

…

Half of the aisle was a cabin in the woods, with moss, bulb lights, bookshelves, and the smell of espresso all over.

The other half was the Italian Renaissance, similar to the Bradbury building of LA. Black and white floor tiles with a dark and elegant vibe.

Very interesting.

Some spiders greet him and say he needs to try his own cookies. Miguel doesn’t know if it annoys or intrigues him.

Until he walks to the cash register, you are with Pavitr and Margo giggling. Margo is taking the orders, and Pavitr helps you with the baking.

Miguel sneaks through the back door for the kitchen and grunts, making you and the boy turn around.

“What’s this supposed to mean?” Miguel asks. Pav drops some dishes and stares in shock at his boss.

“So-… I’m leaving,” Pavitr mumbles before calling it quits. You send him a lousy look before washing your hands from the dough in the process of being finished. Finally, you stare at Miguel with a smile.

“This is The spider’s lounge cabin bakery.”

“That’s a long name,” you laugh hard, slight dimples forming. And Miguel is annoyed. Cute

“Why I wasn’t noticed of this?” you blush, scratching your forearm. He never thought you would build a bakery while you healed.

“I wanted to tell you. But you’re always busy. Jess said she would tell you.”

Jess never said anything. He could always make time for you.

“Then she must’ve forgotten too,” you nod. Suddenly you don’t know what to say. Miguel feels the air shift; Margo keeps taking orders, and people keep picking cakes and cookies, but deep down, everyone wants to hear what Miguel is saying to you,

“I’m not mad, y/n.” He really is not.

“But I’m not happy either.”

“Just.., just try something,” he’s surprised but looks at the showcase shelves with many desserts; crème brûlée, cupcakes, a pink mousse, and slices of cakes. But there was a section that captured his whole attention; pan dulce. Pieces of conchas, torcidos, mantecadas, there’s even chocoflan, arroz con leche and more.

“Oh, yeah… you know about my Hispanic heritage. And… I did this whole section for you” his heart beats faster. But as the stubborn spider, Miguel only asks Margo for a polvorón. The girl hands him the cookie, which is small and covered in white dust that is sugar.

Honestly, you’re sweating. Too nervous to digest Miguel’s upcoming reaction.

He takes a bite of the cookie and slowly starts chewing it.

“Please don’t fire me…” he hears you but says nothing.

He has to suppress a moan from how good the polvorón tasted.

The cookie was perfectly baked, with small pieces of walnuts appearing once in between bites. And the sugar melted in his mouth.

“I want a report on how this is doing….weekly,” you nod. But there’s a little smirk on your face; you know he must’ve liked the cookie.

“As you wish. Thank you” he only offers you a slight nod before leaving.

He didn’t need a report. It was useless. But that meant he could see you around oftenly.

…

Jess was right. Everyone seemed to be happy with the Spider’s lounge cabin bakery. Miguel had to see donuts, cakes, and more, dedicated to different spiders or seasons.

And somehow, Miguel grew fond of you, but was terrified.

He promised to stay away from catching feelings. Maybe it was because of the sweet smile you always offered him whenever he passed by the bakery.

Or the stupid cookies you kept doing based on his mask.

It must have been because of your jericallas, his favorite dessert.

Every Friday, Miguel was there, watching you bake. There wasn’t a lot of talking, mostly just him finishing some reports and planning missions as you decorated pastries. It was a pleasant silence, though.

Quickly, after some weeks, both of you were used to it.

You sigh, looking at Miguel. The spider society was almost empty on a Friday night. But he was there sitting on the little desk. He looked ridiculously broad seated there.

He must feel tired, but he’s a workaholic. You admire him cause of that, only you can’t help but feel some sadness. Loneliness must haunt him. And you would love to be his company.

Suddenly Miguel smells something; herbs and sugar.

“Miguel…” you call him. Hoping to catch his attention, and help him to relieve the stress he was always in.

A cup of hot tea and a slice of pan de elote appeared before him.

“What’s this?…” you roll your eyes at him.

“You’re tired. And you didn’t pick any empanadas today. Please, eat something…” he didn’t know how perceptive you were of him. He was glad you were.

“Fine,” he accepts. You cheer, and he can’t help but smile.

The tea is sweet but no more than the pan de elote. It’s perfect, soft, and made by you.

“Do you like it?”

“You know I love everything you do…” you’re shocked. The feeling of getting blushed only increases.

He probably referred to your baking; that’s it. Maybe he referred to everything else.

“That’s so sweet of you, Miguel” Now he was blushing. Staring at each other, you’re the first to break contact, hiding your gaze by placing some hairs behind your ear.

“So you do this in your earth?”

“My grandma taught me everything. And then, I worked in a bakery for a while. Now I’m just in college,” he nods, taking another sip of the tea.

“Coding, right?” Now you nod with a smile, surprised that he remembered your major.

“Yeah. I wanted to major in arts, but my parents thought it wasn’t good enough to give me a stable income.” Miguel had some idea of the economy being totally different than the one on his earth. However, he’s very intrigued to know more about you. He thought it would be harder to converse with you, but surprisingly, that was not the case.

“What else do you like to do?” You realize you’re having the most extended conversation you’ve ever had with Miguel since�� ever.

“I’m a home girl. I like staying in my room and reading and watching movies. I’m pretty boring. Anyways…What about you?”

“I-I really don’t have time for anything” Somehow, Miguel was embarrassed. His life revolved around being Spider-Man and leader of the spider society. And since he lost his family… that’s all he was.

You offered him a warm smile. You could feel he was not proud of that. And you blamed the trauma he had with his past. And from the bottom of your heart, you leaned to caress his big shoulder.

“You deserve a break, Miguel. The spider verse won’t collapse for you wanting a life” Something from your words touched him. He looked into your eyes and found kindness. You were what he needed.

“Would you hang out with me?” It was too late to analyze what he had said, basically a date. Miguel wanted to bang his head against the desk. Maybe you didn’t want to do anything with him, only coworkers. He was older than you and-… No. He was afraid of the date going well. Cause if that happened, he wasn’t sure if he would give in to you.

You’re blushing again.

“For real?…like friends? Or like… a date?” You were babbling. Never in your wildest dreams, you thought Miguel O’Hara would invite you to hang out with him.

“Whatever it pleases you,” there was no turning back. He was happy, though.

“I would love to have a date with you” The touch on his shoulder sends him a wave of tranquility. For one day, Miguel promises to not think about his past and enjoy the moment. He thinks he’s choosing a woman like you; intelligent, realistic, sweet, and kind. Everything could quickly go well.

“Okay then. It’s a date…” he smiles; it’s a short smile, but you’re more than pleased.

He stands up and cleans the desk. While he does, you have a dorky smile plastered on your face. And you are eager to find out Something.

“Miguel?” He keeps cleaning.

“Hmm?” His back faces you, but he can see you smiling.

“Why me?” Finally, he turns around.

You are so small. He can’t wait to see how your little hands will feel tangled with his. Your ear will barely press against his chest as he hugs you tightly. He couldn’t hide it anymore… he had feelings for you.

“You match what I need,” he said before leaving, not before giving you another brief smile.

Before that day, you weren’t even sure if Miguel cared about you. You were technically new to the society. And he barely shared glances with you.

But you matched his needs, and that was lovely.

…

A thrift store dress was always a good purchase. For this occasion, it was lilac, a y2k nostalgic dress. It matched your red lipstick, red purse, and chunky boots.

You were going to have a date with Miguel O’Hara.

He would meet you to see a movie at your New York historic theater and then… dinner.

Simple.

A few days before the date, you dared to kiss Miguel on the cheek after heading out of the HQ.

He blushed, and you loved seeing him like that.

Then Gwen and Lyla cheered and were all about your date. Jess, on the other side, was a little suspicious. However, she told you everything was gonna be okay. You didn’t understand what she meant.

When you showed the lilac dress, Lyla was sincere in telling you how pretty you looked and how it highlighted the best features of your body.

Everything seemed to be okay.

So you arrived five minutes late to the theater; 7:36 pm. And Miguel wasn’t there yet. A lot of couples were in lane to buy tickets. The popcorns smelled amazing, and you wanted to try the burgers beside the historic building. You were getting impatient, hoping to see the giant silhouette of Miguel.

But he was a busy man, so you waited.

You waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.

8:59 pm; he never came.

…

Gwen Stacy opened your bedroom window only to find the room empty.

Your butterfly lights that decorated your bookshelves are on. Your family is not home, Gwen can assume.

So she hears you; you’re sobbing loudly.

She panics and starts looking for you until she steps into the kitchen, and you punch a big chunk of dough… or something.

“Y/n… What happened?” The blonde asks, hurrying to come to your side and look at your face.

When you turn, your nose looks like a cherry and swollen and red eyes keep squeezing out tears that fall across your face and land on the dough.

“We were worried for you. What’s wrong?” You shake your head, returning to your baking, sniffing. Gwen sighs, taking her mask off.

“Miguel was looking for you like crazy.” The blonde noticed that, as he mentioned Miguel, you sobbed harder again, so he started to worry again.

“He can especially go and fuck himself,” you mumble with a broken voice.

“What? So the date didn’t go well?” When you try to reach for a bag of cocoa powder in the drawers, Gwen gets it with her webs.

“The date didn’t even happen because he stood me up” Your friend is in shock, her mouth is open in disbelief, and her eyes are wide open.

“NO WAY!. But-…No, Something must’ve happened. Why would Miguel do something like that?”

“Because he’s a fucking asshole,” you spit with so much venom. Even Gwen notices it, Something that it’s highly unusual for you.

“If he wasn’t ready, if he didn’t even like me, he could have avoided all of this,” you explain, trying to sound calm. But it’s nearly impossible with how much you’ve been crying.

“There must be a reason, y/n. Miguel seeme-”

“I don’t want to know, Gwen” She respects it, she stays quiet. You tilt your head, planning to sound softer with your friend.

“Look, I want to cry the whole day. So tomorrow, I’ll be able to walk into the HQ like nothing. So from now on… This never happened. Okay, Gwen?” She nods.

She helps you with a chocolate cake and gets at least three smiles from you.

You offer half of the cake for her and Hobie, as you promised to give Peter, Pav, Miles, and Jess a slice too.

But the whole night, you can only think about Miguel.

Why he had to be such a fucking jerk?

…

Miguel is working on a new serum when Gwen stomps in. She makes sure she’s being loud enough to draw their attention.

“You can’t be here,” he says to the girl.

“Why did you stood up, y/n?” That was enough to pull him out of his experiment. Miguel exchanged looks with Gwen before he remembered it.

The fucking date. He never came; he didn’t even let you know what happened.

“Mierda…” he whispers.

“So?…” Gwen asks, reluctant, arms crossed on her chest, demanding an answer.

“Didn’t Jess tell you?” Gwen shook her head, confused.

“A variant of the green goblin tried to make his own super collider. It was a mess…” Until that moment, Gwen noticed a patch on Miguel’s arm. She admits to herself it must’ve been pretty bad to make the great Spider-Man 2099 injured.

“If you didn’t come to say that, I wouldn’t have remembered it. How is she?” He tries to sound even; calmed. But he’s not; he’s stressing, and the embarrassment quickly invades him.

That Saturday, he was getting ready for the date when Ben called. Miguel grew worried about another super collider being created, so he ran back to the HQ.

The fight was very tough; he injured his whole arm, and when he returned home, he was knocked out. And the following day, he forgot about the date entirely. But he didn’t forget you, 'cause he looked for you like crazy.

“Not okay. She thought you stood her up. Which you did, but…”

“I didn’t mean to. I would never purposefully hurt her,” Gwen nods. Knowing she won’t be able to read Miguel’s face.

“Well… tell her, not me. But I warn you if this changes her forever…I’ll blame you forever” Miguel had an idea of Gwen’s words. You only had one true love before, your Harry Osborn, who died in your arms. You were only fifteen and since then… No love for you.

“I’ll fix this, Gwen. I promise…” he assured her.

…

Miguel was taking longer than intended to fix things.

He spent around an hour looking for you in the HQ, only to learn from Jess that you were on a mission with Peter and Hobie.

“Gwen said you stood her up. Why the hell did you do that?” Miguel knew the woman was mad at him. Even when Jess was older than you, she liked you a lot. Everyone did.

“You know what happened. You were there with me.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t aware it was the same day as the date. You could have let her know when you knew about the anomaly, Miguel.”

“I know, Jess. I know…” he was stressed… a lot. Jess shook her arms in surrender. But she also knew she could help her friend.

“Just talk with her. She might understand… both of you should give it a chance” She was right because the more Miguel thought if it was okay to court you, the more he realized he liked you.

“She’s arriving in ten minutes… be gentle,” he nodded. Looking at his gizmo, he saw you just entered Nueva York and were heading towards the showers.

Slowly, he made his way there.

A long hallway connected the pools and showers for different genders. Miguel found himself walking through it. Many spiders were in the pool, and some greeted him, but Miguel was fixated on seeing you.

A door opened; the ladies showered. You came out with wet hair, sweatpants, a baggy tee, and sandals. Miguel had never seen you without your suit before. Just a picture Peter showed him of an evening you spent with him and Mayday. That day you had a pretty sundress, and your hair was in a cute braid.

However, now…Miguel knew everything was different. Now he has a personal issue with you. One that he caused in the first place.

“Hey…” he called once he was an inch behind you. You turned to face him, only to roll your eyes and walk away towards the exit.

“Please, y/n. We need to talk,” he insisted, gently grabbing your forearm.

You weren’t expecting him to come and find you, but how regretful he was trying to sound enrages you.

“Now you wanna talk?. I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood to talk” The hostility in your voice takes him aback.

“I just need some minutes, please,” you sigh. You don’t want to be immature but still think it’s unfair.

“Really? I just needed five seconds, Miguel. In five seconds, you could have told me an anomaly came in” he’s embarrassed. Gwen must’ve told you.

“I know you’ve suffered enough to open up again with somebody. But I’ve been there too. And if you weren’t ready or didn’t even like me… you could have avoided having me waiting an hour in that theater like an idiot.”

“But I do like you. And it’s been a while since the last time I’ve felt like this” At that moment, Miguel didn’t know he had chosen the wrong words.

“SHUT UP!” A lot of spiders turn to see you and Miguel. You eye them shortly, slightly embarrassed.

“You’re an asshole, Miguel O’Hara. And if you ever try to play with me again, I’ll leave the spider society and make sure you can never come to my earth again.” You don’t even glance at him. But you want to. You want to forgive him so severely, to ask about the injury in his arm and bake him something. You open a portal with tears in your eyes as you head home.

You won’t. You know the pain of a broken heart, and you won’t go through that again.

And poor Miguel, chooses a woman to try again for love, and he messes everything. But he’s optimistic; he had chosen a woman and was confident it wasn’t the ending. He would try again until you were smiling again.

But you wished having your friends and saving the spider-verse didn’t depend on Miguel being the leader of the spider society. Because you didn’t want to see him again. Like…never.

How does the song goes?…. I love you, Ain’t that worst thing you’ve ever heard?

__________________

Comment if you want to be tagged in part two :)

[bio1]

Here a treat for Halloween, my complete fanfic in one post. Hope you enjoy this Earthspark horror themed story and thanks to @billy-jay-kisses-robots for co-writing and spell checking.

Let use begin

Act 1

Despite how close to midnight it was, the sound of footsteps could still be heard throughout the dugout. A combination of caffeine and late night movie watching was keeping Twitch Malto wide awake, while the rest of her terran siblings dozed off peacefully. In her defense, if Robbie didn’t want her drinking his energy drinks, he should have kept them hidden better. And the password to her father’s Netflix account should have been more secure than ‘bumblebee123’.

Though the entirety of the terrans had all stayed up to binge as many horror movies as they could think of (with the exception of Jawbreaker, who had his eyes closed the entire time out of fear), only Twitch was still awake. As she paced nervously up and down the dugout, she looked over her sleeping siblings one by one. Thrash was in his alt mode, somehow completely upside down. His engine was repeatedly reving up and stalling in a cycle, as if he was snoring. Jawbreaker was laying facedown on the floor, a comically small teddy bear perched carefully on top of his head. Hashtag, who had tried staying up later herself by watching youtube, had eventually fallen asleep as well, her phone autoplaying what sounded like Russian dashcam crash footage. And Nightshade… Hm, actually, she didn’t see Nightshade anywhere. Not that she was really paying attention, however. Her mind was too busy replaying everything she had seen earlier in the night over and over.

The kids had essentially gone to the horror section on Netflix and watched as many movies as they could before they got tired. From goofier horror comedies like "Critters" to things genuinely terrifying thrillers like "Halloween", and some striking and odd balance of the two like "Scream". What really got to her, however, was John Carpenter's "The Thing", and not just because of what happened to those poor sled dogs. That awful, morphing monster, the way it ripped the research team apart, really stuck with her. Possibly because it reminded her of a few of Mandroid’s own creations she had to fight before, especially that bear mutant from mother’s day.

She was so caught up in her own head that she didn’t even notice Fluffy Ears right in front of her. Twitch ended up tripping right over the family’s pet cow, who decided it would be a good idea to sleep in the middle of the dugout’s hallway. She managed to catch herself mid fall by switching into her alt mode just before hitting the ground. The sleepy calf roused her head, looked at the little red drone hovering directly in front of her, gave her a quick lick, and fell back asleep. The whole ordeal was quiet enough not to wake anyone else, but it did catch the attention of Nightshade, who poked their head out from around a corner near their lab.

“Oh, Twitch, I didn’t know you were still up.” They smiled. “Is everything alright? You look nervous.”

“How can you tell that if I’m in my alt mode?”

“Well, you’re shaking. Pretty violently.”

She hadn’t even realized that, but they were right. She even accidentally bumped into Fluffy Ears pretty hard. Startled, Twitch switched back into her normal mode and tried profusely apologizing to the calf. Fluffy Ears didn’t seem to mind, and got up from her spot to start aimlessly wandering around the dugout.

“I’m, uh, I’m fine, Nightshade. What are you doing over there, anyway?” Twitch attempted to change the subject, making her way over to Nightshade’s lab. At the very least, this might be a fun distraction. Nightshade’s bright green optics lit up at this, clearly excited to show someone their work.

"I am so glad you asked." They tugged on their sibling's arm and pulled them into their lab. On a table in the center was a large, ominous looking metal contraption.

"Wait, isn't that-" Twitch began, before getting cut off.

"The reverse beartrap from Saw, yes!" Nightshade beamed, proudly holding it up. "The movies we watched tonight weren't particularly the type I enjoy, but I did appreciate some of the creative inventions a few of them displayed." They looked over to see Twitch with a completely horrified expression on her face. "Oh, are you wondering if it works? I am too. This is just a prototype I whipped up based on how it was explained in the film. I was actually just about to test it-" They reached under the table and pulled out a full pumpkin. Nightshade extended their arms and eagerly gestured for Twitch to take the gourd. "Since you're up, would you like to do the honors?"

"... Actually, I was wondering why you built a torture device in the first place." She finally responded, nervously looking it over. "I mean, you've built some crazy stuff in the past, but this is, uh, kind of disturbing, Nightshade."

Nightshade looked somewhat disappointed at this, shaking their head a bit. "You've got the wrong idea! A torture device implies that the victim is meant to survive."

Nightshade set the trap down and activated it themselves. Within seconds, it ripped the pumpkin open, its guts splattering messily onto the floor.

"A person wouldn't have survived that." They added, clearly happy the machine worked as intended.

Twitch flinched and stood back, her eyes growing to the size of dinner plates.

"Twitch?" Nightshade asked, concerned. "What is-oh. I get it. Don't worry, it was never my intention to use this on any living being. I just like challenging myself, and building this seemed like it would be an interesting experiment." They began scooping the guts off the concrete floor. "The thought of this device ever being used for its original purpose… that's something I wouldn't even have wished for on Mandroid." They muse. Noticing their sister was still silent, Nightshade approached her, a worried look forming on their features.

"Are you sure you're alright? You didn't think I was really going to-" Twitch interrupted them.

"No! Oh, no, I know you wouldn't, Shady. I'm just kind of on edge tonight, I guess. Probably shouldn't have stolen Robbie's energy drinks." She attempted to brush off their concern as convincingly as she could.

"You probably shouldn't have! Caffeine can worsen the hyperactive aspects of ADHD after all." They agreed, patting her on the shoulder.

"...You think I have ADHD?"

Before Nightshade could respond, a massive crunch boomed out from above them.

"What was that!?" Twitch flew out in search of the cacophony. Nightshade, trying their best to keep up with her, tiptoed as softly as they could to prevent waking the others. They found Twitch looking through the camera screens in the main room of the dugout. There was nothing unusual on live feed, just a few autumn leaves blowing past the cameras Nightshade has placed around the ranch.

"Should we-" Nightshade began, getting cut off again.

"Check it out? Yes, obviously!" She seemed a little too excited to see what was out there. Perhaps she was just looking for an excuse to feel useful, or burn off some of her energy.

Without a second of hesitation, she switched to her alt mode and flew outside, wildly darting around the sky above the dugout. Twitch changed back into bot mode as she landed on the barn's roof. With the moonlight nearly hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, it was almost pitch black outside. Nightshade caught up with their energetic sister, surprised to see her standing still as a statue.

"Twitch! There is nothing out here but the nocturnal wildlife. Perhaps it was a raccoon who made that sound." Nightshade reasoned.

Twitch responded in a shaky tone. "Nightshade, what kind of raccoon could make a noise that loud?"

"...One with rabies?"

"Wait! Listen for a moment." She hushed, falling silent again.

Nightshade listened for something out there to satisfy their sister's paranoia. "I hear nothing Twitch."

"Exactly, Nightshade! There's nothing! No crickets chirping, none of the cows are making any sound, there aren't even moths near the lights!" She exclaimed frantically.

"Oh goodness, you're right. Now that is odd. The only time it's ever perfectly quiet outside is when there is something…dangerous around."

Nightshade glared in front of them, attempting to make out the source of the eerie calmness.

"That tree… wasn't there before." They noted, their voice shaky as they pointed ahead.

Twitch turned to see what her sibling was referring to. In the middle of the forest, several hundred meters away from the barn, a massively tall, crooked tree stood high above the rest. It only had three twisted branches, growing out of its spindly stalk in such a way to vaguely resemble a humanoid figure with bending limbs. One branch in the middle rounded out at the end to form the "head" of this horrific plant.

"Ok, so that certainly wasn't a raccoon then." Nightshade commented. Their sister began switching into her alt mode, before the younger green bot grabbed hold of her. "Twitch, wait! Going out to investigate… whatever that is right away probably isn't a good idea. We should at least think this through first."

Twitch struggled in their grip for a second before shaking herself off, but didn't immediately fly out like she wanted to. "What's the hold up? You seriously want to just head in and call it a night?" She snapped at them.

"No, of course not. I just think we shouldn't do it alone." They added, remaining calm.

"And give that tree-thing a chance to move in first? I don't think so." Twitch shifted and took off into the sky. Reluctantly, Nightshade changed into their alt mode as well, flying directly in front of her to block her path.

"Twitch! What's gotten into you?" They asked frantically. Thankfully for them, Twitch did stop in her tracks. "You clearly aren't doing well tonight. Whatever's got you troubled, I'm here for you, and so is the rest of the family."

"We obviously have bigger issues than my anxiety to deal with right now!" She shouted. "Things like… that are just more proof I haven't been doing enough to keep us safe."

"Is that what this is about? Twitch, this isn't your fault-" she cut them off.

"Well it'll be both of our faults if that tree monster gets its dirty roots on the others because we were busy screwing around here!"

Nightshade wasn't sure how to respond. Twitch’s panicked tone and expression made it clear how stressed and out of it she was. But how were they supposed to comfort her? This entire situation was making it hard for even them to think, especially with that giant tree staring at them-

Wait, the tree was staring at them?

Nightshade slowly turned their head to get a better look, and to their horror, the tall head of the ominous tree had sprouted a pair of huge, glowing eyes.

“We need to go back inside, now!” They grabbed Twitch's arm with their talons, dragging their sister behind them. Almost involuntarily, the younger mech let out an owlish screech as they dived back into the dugout from the entrance in the barn's roof.

Switching back into their alt mode, Nightshade rushed over to the console displaying the security cameras’ feeds. They displayed nothing but static, oddly enough. Nightshade, frustrated and confused, frantically tried fixing the console, but nothing seemed to be working.

After a few moments, Twitch quietly approached her sibling, meekly tapping them on the shoulder. “Shady, I need to tell you something…”

“I'm not mad at you, Twitch. Just, I need to focus right now-”

“That's not what an owl sounds like.” She continued.

Nightshade stopped what they were working on and turned to face her. “...I'm sorry?”

“I've been meaning to say this ever since you got your alt mode, but that owl screech you do isn't actually what owls sound like. The noise you make is more like an eagle or a hawk.”

Nightshade just sort of stared at her, not sure what to say.

“Oh.” Was all they could think of as a response.

“Wait, why would you bring that up now?”

“I'm sorry! I'm scared! I can't even really think straight, it feels like my brain is shutting down…” She grabbed onto her head and shook it, as if trying to forcefully wake herself up.

Nightshade tried to go back to fixing the camera system, but found that their own mind felt somewhat fuzzy as well. They've repaired similar errors on this exact console plenty of times before. Yet for some reason, the solution just wasn't coming to them now.

“It had eyes, didn't it? That's what those were, in the tree, I mean. Huge eyes.” Twitch finally spoke, her usually energetic voice noticeably slowed. “Do you think… that was something Ghost made?”

“I can't imagine what use they would have with a giant, monstrous tree.” Nightshade answered, putting down the wires they were fiddling with. “We should alert the others.”

“...Right.” their sister responded. She glided over to the nearest Malto sibling, that being Hashtag. The large purple bot was still peacefully dozing off with her phone now playing, of all things, Wendigoon’s conspiracy theory iceberg. As if this whole situation wasn't ominous enough.

Twitch gently nudged the larger Terran’s shoulder. “Hashtag? Get up, something happened.”

No response. She was completely out of it.

“H-hashtag?” Twitch shook her sister a little more forcefully now.

She still didn't stir.

“HASHTAG! WAKE UP!” Twitch yelled as loudly as possible, but this didn't do much besides startle the already well-awake Nightshade.

The smaller red bot, frustrated at this point, switched into her alt mode and fired a laser several inches from her sleeping sister. This also accomplished nothing.

“Twitch! What on earth are you doing?” Nightshade called out frantically.

“I wasn't going to hit her! I… I couldn't think of anything else, I thought that would work.” She admitted, her voice shaky.

Twitch flew over to Thrash and Jawbreaker, shouting their names and firing controlled lasers inches from their bodies in a reckless attempt to wake them. The brothers were similarly out cold, however, and nothing she did had any effect on them.

“You need to stop that! If you miss and hit them…” Nightshade began, stopping themselves off as they watched the red drone revert to her bot mode, a defeated and exhausted expression washing over her face. Her large yellow optics seemed to almost wobble in place, a streaking, cold light emanating from them. Nightshade got the impression that if Cybertronians were physically capable of shedding tears, she'd be sobbing right now.

“What's going on, Shady?” She barely managed to speak, nearly choking on every word.

Seeing their usually cheerful, energic sister in such a miserable state was utterly heartbreaking for Nightshade. It wasn't her fault, but Twitch seemed to truly believe whatever misfortune her family had fallen upon somehow could have been prevented by her.

Nightshade, not being the best at emotional support, tried to go for a more practical way of comforting her. “They… they aren't dead.” The younger Terran informed her. Walking over to Jawbreaker, Nightshade gently pried his eyelids apart to reveal intact, glowing optics. They weren't responding to any stimuli, but the fact that they were on was proof that the bots were in some kind of comatose state.

“How did you…” Twitch started speaking, but seemingly lost the strength to continue partway through her question.

“How did I know?” Nightshade presumptively finished for her. “I've installed vital trackers in all of us. If any of us were to go offline, I would get an alert.” They informed her.

“Oh, that's good. Thank you.” She seemed a little relieved, before realizing the full consequences of what her sibling just admitted. “Wait, I don't remember… when did you install those?”

“That's not really something we need to worry about now…” Nightshade mumbled, not expecting her to question their actions.

“...Nightshade, how many… things have you added to us?” She lowered her gaze a bit, inquisitively. Before questioning them further, her optics lit up, having remembered something.

“I just realized, we never saw Fluffy Ears!” She blurted out frantically. Twitch began zooming around the dugout in her alt mode, looking for the baby cow.

Nightshade gave a sigh of relief that her line of questioning was over for now, and joined her in the search.

“Where was she last?” They called out, looking around their lab while Twitch scanned the dugout’s hall.

“I… I don't know, she just sort of wandered off-Oh!” Twitch flew over to a far corner of the room.

“I found her! What are you doing over here, silly cow…” Twitch nudged the calf, who seemed to be fast asleep, resting her head on her flank. Fluffy Ears didn't stir, however.

“...Fluffy Ears?” Twitch was significantly more worried as she spoke this time, her voice getting louder. The calf didn't respond.

Nightshade looked over their sister's shoulders, noting that, thankfully, the little cow was still breathing.

“That's odd, very odd… whatever happened to our siblings seems to be affecting her as well.” Nightshade leaned down and gently stroked Fluffy Ears head, mostly in an attempt to steady themselves down. This entire situation wasn't making any sense, and that scared them. They needed to remain calm, however, if only to reassure Twitch.

The smaller bot looked to her sibling for answers.

“...Do you think it's gotten to everyone in the house?”

“Are you referring to whatever has put everyone here to sleep?” Nightshade attempted to clarify.

“Yeah, I mean, if it got to Fluffy Ears… Mom, Dad, Robbie, and Mo are also organic.”

“That's a good point, actually.” Nightshade pondered. They didn't even think of that. “Are we dealing with some kind of virus that affects both organics and bots? Does such a thing even exist?”

“Forget virus, it's obviously coming from that messed up tree outside.”

“The tree? That can't be right. How could it even…” Nightshade was at a complete loss.

“Seriously, Nightshade? This thing shows up, and suddenly, all of our family is out cold. That can't be a coincidence.” She was exasperated.

“I agree it's strange, but there shouldn't be any way a plant could incapacitate both organics and Cybertronians by just… I don't even know…” Their head was starting to throb, like a migraine. Trying to think critically was physically hurting them.

The two siblings just stood there, feeling their own bodies growing weaker with every passing second. It was a sensation similar to being sedated. A feeling they probably would have given into, had Twitch not noticed a strange black tendril poking out of a nearby vent.

“Is that a rat?” Twitch asked groggily. Wouldn't be the first time a rat got into the dugout. But said rats usually weren't so long. And slithering…

“Nightshade! Get down!” Twitch jumped and pushed her sibling down to the ground, just before a huge tendril swung at their head. The tendril instead hit the monitors Nightshade had attempted to fix. A single whack caused not only all the monitors to shatter, but the concrete wall behind them to violently crack.

Nightshade's optics widened with horror. There was no question about it. If that tendril had hit them instead, their head would have been knocked clean off.

The tendril dove for the pair of them, seeming to know exactly where they were despite not having eyes. They both moved to opposite sides, barely avoiding getting stabbed. As it pulled out of the small hole it burrowed into the floor, the tendril opened up for a second, briefly revealing a crimson reptilian eye that scanned the room before closing again.

Nightshade, in an effort to get out of the way, bumped into the table they had placed the reverse bear trap onto earlier. It fell into their lap with a clattering thud. An idea came to them, and they armed the trap to go off again.

“Twitch, take this and have it dive for you again! When it gets close, have it aim for the trap! I think it only keeps its eyes open for a few seconds at a time!”

“Twitch, take this and have it dive for you again! When it gets close, have it aim for the trap! I think it only keeps its eyes open for a few seconds at a time!”

Twitch, being the faster of the two even in her groggy state, agreed with a nod and flew past the tendril, the trap in her grasp. It took the bait and launched itself directly towards her, where it got the last several feet of its body caught in the trap’s mechanisms.

The tendril squirmed and rattled as the reverse beartrap’s countdown ticked. After a few agonizingly long seconds, it finally went off. Just as it had with the pumpkin earlier in the night, it absolutely ripped its prey apart with ease. Shards of metal and some kind of fleshy material flew to all corners of the dugout.

The worst part wasn't the sight of the impact, however, it was the dreadful noise it made. Whatever the tendril was attached to screamed in pain as its appendage was destroyed. It had a cry like a nuclear siren, low, loud, and ear-piercing. It felt like something you were never meant to hear, and simply perceiving was a sign that you as the listener were at death’s door.

What remained of the tendril receded back through the vents, leaking a runny black liquid with an odd, iridescent shimmer. A few of the larger chunks that had been ripped open were still slightly animate, curling where they lay like a dying spider.

Nightshade cautiously approached what appeared to be the eye of the tendril, or atleast what was left of it.

It was a translucent, jelly-like red substance with an awful black slit for a pupil that had sort of melted into the iris due to its injury. Said pupil shuddered in place one last time as Nightshade got closer, almost as if it could still perceive the bot somehow.

“Nightshade! Are you alright right!?” Twitch said, sounding out of breath despite not actually having lungs.

“Yes, I'm just a bit scratched up. It's nothing but a bit of polish won't get out.”

Without saying anything else, Nightshade grabbed and chugged down one of the energy drinks that their sister left out. “I know I said earlier that us drinking these was probably a bad idea, but I think they might help.” Their sister nervously fiddled with the can’s lid before managing to get it open for herself.

Nightshade scooped up what's left of the otherworldly tendril and brought it back to their lab.

Pausing to consider their next move, Nightshade eventually settled on attaching the still pulsating fleshy bits to a battery hooked up to a light bulb. After a few seconds, the light dimmed before going out completely. The battery was instantly dead.

“It appears you were right after all. Whatever this thing is, it emits some kind of field that drains energy from anything it's near.” Nightshade concluded.

“So that's what makes us feel so exhausted?” Twitch looked very concerned, her optics darting between Nightshade and her unconscious siblings.

“More than likely, yes. And you might have already guessed this, but I assume it's also keeping all our organic family members asleep. My current theory is that this is a hunting tactic.”

Twitch knew immediately what they were getting at. “Sleeping prey can't fight back.”

“Exactly.” Nightshade confirmed. “The fact that we were previously awake is most likely the only reason why we aren't currently unconscious.”

An uneasy silence filled the dugout. The siblings stood in place, the air around them cold and heavy with tension. Without saying a word, both of them knew what the other was thinking: that monster would be back any moment, and they couldn't keep up the energy to fight it back for long. It was a terrible calm before the storm, a feeling reminiscent of succumbing to hypothermia. An overwhelming, intoxicating urge to close your eyes and drift into a sleep you were well aware you'd never wake up from.

And at this moment, every light in the dugout switched off.

Act 2

The Terran siblings' optics were the only source of light in the now otherwise pitch black dugout. After the dreadful clicking of the lights switching off, the room was now eerily quiet once again.

“We didn't kill it.” Nightshade finally broke the silence, stating the obvious.

“No, you didn't.”

A voice replied, taunting the young bot. Well, perhaps calling it a voice would be too generous. Whatever responded spoke in a manner similar to rusted nails scratching at granite. Its pitch and tone managed to fluctuate in a manner that just barely could be recognizable as words. It was a sound that shouldn't be possible, as if scrap metal could somehow speak. It went beyond uncanny. Hearing something that otherworldly felt downright violating.

“What clever children you are, deducing my traits so quickly.

Most don't last long enough to find that out.”

Whatever monitors still remained attached flickered on, although they broadcasted nothing but static. When their adversary spoke again, the static shifted in time with its voice.

“My, such a colorful collection. So bright and shiny, sturdy with youthful vigor. Small you might be, but your remains will a part of something far bigger than you could ever dream.”

Twitch, with all her remaining energy, was not having any of this cryptic nonsense. She stormed up to the monitors and put her face meter inches from the screen in a confrontational manner.

“Get away from my family, NOW!” She boomed, slamming her foot onto the concrete floor.

The dying power on the monitor only showed one thing, the white enormous eye of their torturer.

“Oh my child, it's far too late for that.”

Twitch stepped back, trying her absolute best now to show how terrified she truly was. Too late for what? What was this thing implying?

“You're bluffing! You haven't gotten to them yet!” Nightshade answered back for her. “Now how about you save us all time and tell us what you want!”

Twitch wasn't sure what her sibling was getting at. Did they want to give into this thing's demands? And how could they know that their family hadn't been harmed yet?

“If you're already awake, I thought we might as well have a little fun.”

It was pretty obvious the creature was trying to be creepy, but neither of them knew whether or not it fully understood the context of what it just implied.

The dugout was completely silent and nearly pitch black, the abyss around them only just illuminated from both of the bots’ glowing optics.

“Nightshade! What do we do?! Our family is out there with that… that thing! I don't even know which way the exit is anymore, it's too dark…”

“There’s no reason for alarm, the dugout has a backup generator in the barn.” Nightshade tried their absolute best to remain calm for her, despite the gravity of the situation weighing on their mind as well.

“I'll go check on everyone in the house. In the meanwhile, you can start up the generator.”

“Wait, shouldn't that be the other way around? I can actually fit in the house, and you would know how the generator works.”

“Because I can grab everyone in one trip. It would take too long for you to back and forth. Plus, turning it on is rather simple.”

“Nightshade, I've seen the things you make, and none of them are simple.”

“It's literally just a red button labeled ‘generator’.”

“Nevermind, I should be able to handle that.”

Both of the bots carefully exited the dugout. With neither spotting the monster, Nightshade and Twitch split up, their goals both in sight.

Twitch approached the generator, optics darting around herself in paranoia.

“It's okay, Twitch. Just a few more steps.” The red bot assured herself, voice still shaky.

She stood in front of the machine, just barely out of arms’ reach. A chill ran down her metallic spine. Thoughts of what occurred earlier in the night ran through her mind. She kept imagining that if she pushed the button, something would come to remove her head from her shoulders.

“Twitch! HURRY!”

The loud voice booming from the doorway startled the poor bot. It was Nightshade, already back with their human family in tow. They were peacefully sleeping, blissfully unaware of the danger around them. Nightshade dashed into the bunker, leaving Twitch to finish her task.

With a deep sigh, she pushed the red button, the lights around her flickering on. Twitch turned back to join their sibling before stopping dead in her tracks. Something was pushing itself through a gap in the barn wall. A black, pulsating mass with gray armor grew larger as more of its amorphous form forced its way into the room. Five huge tendrils sprouted from a central metal lump. It almost looked like…

“A hand.” She breathed, the terrifying realization overcoming her.

A monsterous hand, almost bigger than her entire body.

She drew out her swords as the hand flexed its grotesque fingers.

The monster, noticing her presence, immediately lunged at her. She barely had enough time to dodge or before the gnarled fingers could ensnare her. The hand instead grabbed hold of a solid wooden support beam directly behind her. Smaller tendrils unwind themselves from the fingers joints, constricting the beam completely until the pressure caused it to cave in. An entire, solid cylinder of wood, crushed by a single movement into dust. The hand, realizing it has missed it's intended target, reared around with gelatinous eyes protruding from its finger joints, searching for Twitch.

“Hold still.”

“How about no!” She yelled before jabbing her blade into its wrist. The palm of the hand writhed in pain, fingers bending backwards as it struggled to pull the foreign object out. The wrist was almost jammed like a metal rod between two gears.

Twitch grabbed the handle of the embedded sword and twisted it clockwise, separating the hand from its wrist. A spray of oily fluid landed on her optics, muddling her vision. The hand writhed in pain for a moment, finally curling up on itself.

A distant sound of pain could be heard, but Twitch felt like she had no time to celebrate as she went to join her family. The young bot slammed the vault door shut as soon as she made it to the bunker, not wanting to take any more chances. Nightshade has laid the siblings’ organic family into individual sleeping quarters.

“Twitch, are you alright?” Nightshade asked, concerned. Their sibling’s face was drenched in the black, oily blood of their adversary.

“Yeah, I just had my hands full.” she responded confidently. Though her words had the cadence of a joke, Nightshade didn't seem to pick up on it.

“Seriously, what happened?” They prodded further.

“That monster tried to crush me. Sort of like this.” Twitch crushed one of the emptied energy drink cans as a demonstration.

“But it doesn't know who they're messing with, and I manage to cut their hand off.” She smiled proudly, but residual unease from the near death encounter still hung to her tone. This bravado was an attempt to force her mood to improve, and it wasn't entirely working.

“Here, to wipe the oil off.” Nightshade handed her a large cloth.

“Oh, thanks.” She cleaned her face up, before looking down at the now dirtied rag. “Wait, isn't this Robbie's shirt?”

“Yes. I borrowed some spare clothing from all of the family and store it here, in case of emergencies.”

“Borrowed? He told me he couldn't find this shirt for months….” She held out the soaked t-shirt in front of her, rancid oily blood dripping onto the floor.

“Emergency preparedness is more important than a diverse wardrobe.” Nightshade took the soiled garment and threw it into a basket. “That'll come off in the laundry. Probably.”

In the corner of Nightshade’s sensitive optics, they picked up some movement on the now activated surviving monitor. The pair raced over to see what it was. Out of the darkness of the forest above, something jumped into fame. The figure startled Nightshade badly enough that they fell to the floor. After recovering from the near spark attack herself, Twitch realized what it was.

“Oh, it's just a deer.” She gave a sigh of relief.

Nightshade got a good giggle from the pair of them getting so startled by a cute little buck. Twitch had mentioned she cut off the monster's hand, right? Surely, it wasn't coming back…

Gazing at the screen, something reached out and snatched the poor animal. Their monitor’s audio played a sickening crack the moment after. It was the unmistakable noise of snapping bone.

The culprit emerged from the woods, towering above even the tallest of trees. In one gnarled hand, it carried the limp body of the deer, whose neck was now bent at an unnatural angle, clearly dead.

The other hand was missing, leaving a stub of black tentrals.

It was clear this wasn't some kind of wooden monster they had thought of earlier. This was far more alien.

This monster appeared to be wearing the outer armor of a Cybertronian, held together by mangled tendrils and rusted metal sheets. Its abdomen, neck, and joints were made of thick, wiry tentacles twisted together like ropes of licorice. Long, clawed fingers clutched onto the ragdolled deer. Its face, seemingly normal at first glance, appeared to have enormous spotlights for optics, surrounded by deep black rings. It was as if it had carved holes in whatever unfortunate mech’s face it was using to fit its massive eyes.

The abomination was mostly gray, with any remaining colors on its shell muted and drained. It reminded Nightshade when they learned from Bumblebee. When a Cybertronian dies as a result of having their spark extinguished, their body will lose its color. All that's left behind is a gray, empty shell.

The monster lifted the deer so that it was held directly in front of its ghastly face. Instead of simply opening its mouth, it split its own jaw completely in half. Row upon row of sharp yellowed greeted their prey, before sinking into the buck’s head. It antlers sloughed off and fell to the forest floor. The poor deer's head barely gave any resistance to the creature’s bite, getting chomped away easily as a stalk of celery.

Twitch immediately felt sick, the urge to vomit filling her despite not even having a stomach.

Nightshade starred, wide-eyed with morbid curiosity, unawall to tear away their gaze.

With one of its clawed fingers, it easily gutted and flayed the remainder of the deer with the precision of a surgeon. It swallowed each limb whole, not even stopping to back a breather between each bite. The deer's torso was impaled on the tallest tree around, seemingly leaving it for later.

Full enough for now, the metallic corpse leaned over, resting its damaged arm on the forest floor. Slowly but surely, the severed tendrils twisted and grew, sprouting forward from the site of the injury. Soon enough, it had a brand new hand, identical to the original.

All of the damage the siblings had inflicted on the creature was undone in a moment.

“This isn't happening…” Twitch’s voice was barely a whisper, her entire body fighting back the urge to retch.

“A Valiant attempt, little one, But not good enough.”

The creature's unnatural voice made the static on the monitor worse as it spoke. How it had heard her from so far away was a complete mystery.

The thing bent forward to show its back, smaller tendrils poking out of the monster's armor. They wriggled and writhed, pulling themselves from the beast's back. Falling out from the cracks in the metal, two smaller creatures collided on the ground before standing up. They superficially resembled Cybertronian protoforms, but were differentiated by the claws and soulless eyes of the original monster.

“Go get me the green one. The red one is yours… consider it a treat.”

It pointed towards the camera at the base of the tree. The pawn-like monsters listened, immediately making their way towards the barn.

“I'll be seeing you shortly, Maltos.”

It bowed at the camera, before walking backwards out of site, into the woods.

“We are sooooo screwed.” Twitch mumbled, once the whole ordeal had concluded. “How did it find that tiny little camera? And when did it learn our family's name?”

“Don't worry, we, um…” Nightshade’s usually calm demeanor was shaking, the panic getting to them as well. … ‘“We should be safe here.” They placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, metal clicking as they touched. Twitch immediately swatted their hand away, turning in place to face them.

“Safe?” Her optics went wide, sparking with a furocity Nightshade had only seen a few times before. “Safe?! You just saw that thing make more of itself, Nightshade! We are anything BUT safe right now!”

They knew she was right, and that their reassurance was an empty gesture she had easily seen through.

“I’m sick of this.”

She drew out both of her swords.

Nightshade looked visibly shaken from Twitch's outburst, justified as it might be. If they could cry, they would be tearing up.

“Twitch, I-”

Twitch cut them off again.

“I'm going out there to defend what I love!”

Even though Twitch was running off fumes, she would fight an army if it meant keeping their family safe.

Nightshade rubs their optics before putting a hand on her shoulder once again.

“Not by yourself. I'm coming with you.” Nightshade informed her with an uncharacteristically stirred tone.

“You need to stay here, with them.” She pleaded. “I've got more training than you. I can handle this.”

“With all due respect, there isn't a chance you'd survive going head to head alone with our advisory here. I doubt even Optimus could take that monster down by himself. I get why you want to me stay back, but we won't be of any use without each other.” They leaned in, giving Twitch a big bear hug.

“We're doing this together,” said Nightshade.

After a moment of hesitation, Twitch nodded firmly.

“Together.” she replied, hugging them back.

They made sure everything was secured before drinking what was left of the energy drinks in hopes of staving off the creature's parasitic exhaustion. Venturing out of the dugout, they double checked to guarantee the door was locked behind them.

The bots stuck close by to one another, Twitch leading slightly ahead. Just as Nightshade got an arm's length away from their sister, something jumped on their shoulders and wrapped its arms around their neck.

It was one of the odd gray things the creature had produced. The thing was about Twitch’s size, only barely taller than the average human. Nightshade was able to pull their assailant off them, slamming it against the dirt.

Cracks formed on the monster's armor, its left leg was bent in the opposite direction.

This seemingly didn't slow it down, however, as with a high pitch grunt it snapped its leg back in place before charging at the green mech.

“NIGHTSHADE! Go high, I'm going low!” Twitch changed her hand into a blaster before taking aim and firing. The laser shot hit the monster's bad leg, blasting it off from the knee down.

As the creature stumbled, Nightshade’s talons struck against its face. This almost completely destroyed one of its eyes, leaving a deep gash. They knock it back with a powerful upcut to its jaw, sending half of its pointy teeth into the air.

As it fell backwards, Twitch raised one of her blades. She sent an aggressive slash on its shoulder. The sword moves in a round arc, cutting its torso in two like a knife through warm butter.

Both halves of the body fell down. Horrifically, even though all the monstrosity had left was a single arm, it continued to drag itself towards them. The thing seems either unaware or unbothered by the fact that its insides were being scrapped across the ground as it moved.

Nightshade backed up a good distance from their pursuer before running back at it, full sprint. With one solid kick, they sent its head flying over the house.

“Goal!” Nightshade cheered, twisting around to check on Twitch. Their little joke seemed to have worked at lightening some of the tension, and she smiled back at him widely. “That was incredible, Nightshade!”

As the small monster's corpse finally fell still, the siblings celebrated by high-fiving each other.

Their victory was short-lived, however, as an enormous hand rapidly grabbed Twitch from around the house. Nightshade ran after it, coming to stand in front of the Goliath.

“Let me go!” Twitch demanded, taking a shot at the thing’s chest, leaving nothing but a small burn mark. It retaliated by squeezing her tighter. With its other hand, it picked up her swords before tossing them away into the woods.

“You! After all this… chaos! What more do you want?” Nightshade yelled as loud as their vocal processor would allow.

The creature flexed its long neck towards the ground, gargantuan eyes boring holes into Nightshade's very being.

“It appears your human masters didn't raise you with any manners, child. But for future reference, it's not considered polite to ask such questions before being given a proper introduction.”

It gave a devilish, cocky smirk. The sickeningly smug expression of a creature who knew it had already won. It was just toying with its prey now, watching them squirm and suffer for its own amusement.

“You may call me Exquisite Corpse. I've seen how smart you are, I assume you can guess how I earned such a title.”

Nightshade wasn't even sure how to respond. This thing's manner of speech was infuriatingly civilized, clearly in an attempt to further provoke them.

“As for your question, I am after you in particular, little owl.”

“Me?!” They blurted in response. “And what makes you think I'm going to go along with this?” Nightshade challenged, trying not to let their confusion and fear show.

The haughty grin on Exquisite Corpse’s face never faltered.

“Oh, I suspected resistance from you, child. There's a good reason I made my powers known to you from the start.”

It leaned in even closer, its massive face just inches from Nightshade. Bits of blood and refuge from the deer it had previously consumed clung to its metal fangs.

“You know what I'm capable of. You know what I could do to not only her,”

It shook Twitch around in its hand, causing the red bot to yelp in shock and discomfort.

“But to your entire clan if I wanted. So now that you're aware of what's at stake, I don't think you'll put up any more struggle when I tell you to come with me.”

“Don't even think about it, Nightshade!” Twitch barked.

“I didn't say you could talk, fly!”

It screeched, pressing its claws against her even further. Twitch's body creaked as she tried not to scream from the pain. It was clear that if Exquisite Corpse's grip got any tighter, those claws would rip right through her.

“Stop!” Nightshade begged. “Please, just put her down…”

“Oh, I'll do a lot more than that. Do as I say, and your entire family will get left out of this unfortunate little affair.”

It leaned its empty hand in front of the bot.

“How does that sound, owl?”

The lights in Nightshade's optics streaked, making their vision go blurry. Tensing up, they reluctantly grabbed a finger of the giant hand back, shaking it.

“I accept your terms.” they solemnly said, biting their lip in anguish.

“I knew you were smart. Very good.”

It tossed Twitch to the ground, the minion pawns standing behind her with baited breath, held back only by their obedience to their master like a dog on a leash.

Exquisite Corpse gently picked up the owl, exhaling a deep purplish smoke in their face. Nightshade immediately felt more tired than they ever had in their life. As their body went limp for exhaustion, they heard one final exchange from the monster to its servants.

“She's all yours.”

As they walked off towards the woods, the last thing Nightshade could process was Twitch's voice, violently screaming out for their sibling to help her.

Act 3

The cold, metallic clicking of leaking rainwater rose Nightshade from their unconsciousness. They managed to pry their optics open, the young bot's vision blurred from exhaustion and their injuries. Nightshade silently prayed to whatever might be listening that all this had just been some sort of horror movie induced nightmare. That when they got up, they’d find themselves awake in the cozy dugout, surrounded by their siblings. That they could go on and have another fun, peaceful day with those they loved.

But they were met with no such luck. They were lying on an unfamiliar rusted floor, faint light leaking in from a hole above them. Scattered drops of fresh rain pattered down, keeping the air around them cool. It was a sound they usually quite enjoyed, under happier circumstances. With no idea where they were, however, it only brought them a further sense of alienation.

As they tried to gather their thoughts, a voice they had gotten to know far too well over the past few hours made itself heard.

“Rise and shine~”

The voice called from a pitch black doorway, only the speaker's white eyes indicating someone was there. Nightshade tried to change forms, but residual weakness kept them barely able to move. Honestly, they were surprised still able to move at all, being so drained of-

“Energy” it said.

“You need it to survive like all things do. It will not be good if you're too weak to stand.”

Its eyes narrowed to pin pricks of light.

“Lucky for us, it seems like your kind is able to process organics. Looks like we have something in common.” A wheezy laugh escaped the beast’s mouth.

“Unlike your inferior kin.”

It tossed a plastic-wrapped packet into Nightshade's cell.

“Is this Jerky?” they mumbled, looking over the bag with bleary optics.

“Better than rats, I suppose. Or do your animalistic instincts crave raw vermin?” It tilts its head.

“How would you know my body can process organic material?” Nightshade questioned, weakly.

“You and your sister seem to process those caffeinated liquids just fine. Besides, I can't see it being possible for a techno-organic species to survive solely off of polluted water.” It leaned its metallic face closer, its nightmarish grin now barely visible in the pale light. “You mean to tell me that in the year or so you’ve existed, you never bothered trying any food?” Its smile somehow grew wider.

Nightshade cut the side of the packet, pulling out one strip of dry meat. They placed it in their mouth and chewed a bit. It was pretty good, surprisingly. Under different circumstances, they'd be excited to try out other human foods. After swallowing it, they still felt off, like there was a hollow feeling in them that the small piece of nourishment slightly filled.

The beast spoke once more.

“I will return when you recover your strength. Until then, stay here.” It taunted, knowing damn well they weren't going anywhere.

It shut the thick metal door behind it with a cold clank. Alone and in the dark again, the green bot pulled out another piece of jerky.

“I hope Twitch is ok.”

---

Sharp claws rendered the air next to Twitch, the red bot barely managing to dodge the swipe by a hair. She reared in for a punch to its face, but was instead met with a monstrous knee to the abdomen. She failed to stop her battered fame from involuntarily folding up like a lawn chair from the pain. Orange, shaky optics stared down the approaching behemoth as it made its way to the barnside.

Twitch managed to activate the fans on her circular wings, blowing the monster back as it lunged directly towards her. The thing yelped as it was knocked backwards, but didn't remain stunned for long.

With her processor still hazy and her movements sluggish, Twitch knew this wouldn't be an even fight. She'd need to end it quickly, because there was no way her stamina would keep up for long.

As the husk made its way towards her once again, Twitch used what little remaining energy she had to back herself up into the garage. She frantically slammed her fist down on the button used to close the garage's metal door, hoping it would buy her a little more time. As the husk lunged at her again, she raised her arm, with just enough space between them to take a clear shot.

In less than a second, her laser blew a hole directly into the monster's head, sending it flying backwards. The garage door slammed shut right as its body was about half way through the exit, moving quickly enough to bisect the creature horizontally. The thing’s lower half laid on the garage floor, legs violently jerking one last time before going still.

After a moment's hesitation, she carefully moved to get a better look at the split torso. Oily black ooze and wiry threads leaked from the opened wound. Inside were tightly wrapped threads, somewhat resembling muscles, clinging tightly to shiny silver bones. The red bot hesitantly nudged the tattered mass with her foot. Satisfied when it didn't move, she let out a sigh of relief.

She decided to inspect the garage doors, wondering how they had closed so fast. It appeared that Nightshade had added some sort of speed adjuster, currently set onto “Turbo”.

“Nightshade’s going to get one of us killed these days, if they keep messing with electronics like this.” She mumbled. “Oh no, Nightshade!” Twitch's mind was flooded with thoughts of the monstrosity dragging away her sibling. Panic surged through her circuits, making her trace the room in circles, cradling her head in her hands. If she could barely take one of its minions, she wouldn't stand a chance against the creature alone. That's when her optics landed on a car battery and jumper cables.

“What would Nightshade do…” Twitch pondered aloud, gazing over the batteries with inquisitive optics.

_ _ _

Nightshade had just barely regained the strength to stand when their host decided to return.

“Please, follow me, honored guest.” It gestured, holding a slender hand behind itself. Not seeing any other viable options, Nightshade did as they were told.

As the young bot trailed behind their captor, it became apparent to them that they didn't even reach past the monster's knee in height. Wherever they were, the quiet halls of this place were clearly designed to be occupied by beings of immense stature.

Nightshade decided now would be as good a time as any to ask the burning question on their processor. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Blissfully foolish little thing. If I planned to kill you, why would I have kept you alive this long?” Seemingly just to taunt Nightshade, it dragged its claws against the stone walls, leaving shallow marks and a grating noise as they continued.

“I don't know. You could have plenty of reasons. That's why I asked.”

The monster looked back at Nightshade incredulously, only to be met with a sincere expression from the green bot. It was genuinely a little surprised at how curious their captive was. If anything, they seemed just as interested in the logistics of this operation as they did their own fate.

“I want you to join me… Nightshade.” The thing’s smile grew to enormous proportions, only to fade as they realized Nightshade gave no visible reaction to having their name used.

“Aren't you curious how I knew your name?” It tried to sound intimidating, but the bot just continued to stare at them with a wide eyed, yet steady expression.

“I just assumed you overheard my sister referring to me as such.” They answered. “Is that not the case?”

“Uh, no, I… Nevermind.” It seemed embarrassed of all things, not getting to use its usual mindgames. “Scrap, I lost my train of thought. Where was I?”

“You mentioned you wanted me to join you in something?”

“Oh, right, thanks.” It coughed awkwardly. “Ahem. Anyway, my kind has a unique way to produce more of our species. It all starts with a small injection.”

Its tongue formed into a sharp, needle-like point. Nightshade's optics went wide, nervously taking a step back.

“Your body will undergo a beautiful transformation. You'll be stretched, strained, melted. Your insides will dissolve and reform into divine fibrous threads, while keeping your outer casing mostly in tack.” Having regained its sinister mojo, it leaned in menacingly.

“And most importantly, you will be able to spread your variation of life to all that you see. Your unique biology, I believe it's called your alt mode… it's the perfect blend of organic and inorganic material.”

It gestures to the room in front of them.

Inside, dozens of stasis pods filled with an odd silver liquid Thing against the walls, each with a glowing ball of light in their chests.

Nightshade peered in, before being struck with dreadful recognition. “No, those aren't-”

“Oh, but they are! Protoforms, just for us. You can think of them as our new family.” It laughed, a sound like metal scraping against itself.

“Your techoraganic DNA will make them perfect hybrids between you and I.”

“And why was I chosen for this?” Again, Nightshade’s tone, while clearly uncomfortable, also was bizarrely curious given the circumstances.

The monster scratched at its eye socket, as if it was getting bored.

“Your alt mode, little owl. Strong, swift, and capable of flight. None of your kin can compare in potential.”

“And why can't you just make your army on your own?”

Their bright-eyed, inquisitive questioning seemed genuinely rooted in fascination with this process, which was almost annoying to their captor. It sighed, and begrudgingly answered.

“My body is beyond repair, as you may have noticed. Its previous occupant was gravely injured when I took their place. I was going to just scavenge for more parts… but upon picking up signs of unique, *living* biomechanical parts nearby… Well, that gave me a better idea.”

The two of them continued their walk, finally ending up in an enormous room.

Trashed control panels for an unidentifiable drive and gnarled viscera littered the floor. The foul stench of copper and rot emanated from a tub in the dead center. The beast pushed a reluctant Nightshade towards it.

The scared bot hesitantly peered over the vessel, only to be greeted by a viscous red liquid.

Nightshade nearly gagged upon recognizing the horrific sight in front of them, stumbling backwards away from the blood. Their captor, apathetic towards their discomfort, grabbed the young bot with a single clawed hand.

“But before we comment, I will need approval from a higher power.”

It dipped its free hand into the blood, and began to paint a sigil on the wall.

It licks its filthy hand clean before hovering a clawed finger over Nightshade's face.

“I require one last ingredient to achieve communication.”

Nightshade tried to squirm away to break free as the point of the monster's claw made contact with their cheek. Searing hot pain engulfed their entire face.

The young bot desperately tried to hold in their screams, not wanting to give their tormentor the satisfaction. Having never experienced anything like this, anything this unbearably horrible, how very, they gave in, screeching at the awful sensation. The whole ordeal lasted only a moment, and the monster revealed to them a luminous green liquid on its finger tip.

For a second, Nightshade was confused in its origin. Realization dawned on them as they felt the liquid trickle onto their chest.

“I'm bleeding.” They stated, their tone cold and grim from shock.

“A nice pretty green.” It laughed, mixing Nightshade’s blood into the sigil.

Nightshade watched in helpless horror as the blood twisted and moved upon contact, changing colors until eight white, luminous eyes took form.

_ _ _

Twitch shakily touched the two ends of the jumper cables together, watching with wide optics as they sparked at the contact. The jolt nearly scared the sprockets out of her, but she managed to take a deep breath to steady herself again. She stood over her unconscious younger sister, attaching the cables with an uncertain hum. A zap of energy filled the air before the car battery made a “pop” and went stone dead.

Twitch clutched her fists tightly, heat welling up in her face as her desperate attempt to wake Hashtag failed. She felt her knees go weak, and a strong urge to curl up into a ball and cry. Before she could give in, a faint whirring noise caught her attention. It was Hashtag's optics, groggily prying themselves open.

“Twitch? What's going on-”

With her energy revived by hope, Twitch rushed in to give her sister one of her famous bear hugs.

“Uh, good morning to you too.” Hashtag said awkwardly, patting her on the back.

Twitch grabbed her sister's hand, desperately tugging it as she tried to pull the larger bot up.

“We need to go, now! Something horrible took Nightshade and-”

“Whoa, slow down, Twitch. I just woke up.” Hashtag stood up, feeling the odd cables attached to her neck.

“I didn't go to sleep with these on, right?” She questioned.

“There's a giant monster keeping everyone asleep! I had to jumpstart you awake with that.”

Hashtag narrowed her optics incredulously.

“Giant… monster?” She parroted back.

“Yeah, the thing is probably twice the size of Mr Prime!” Twitch was practically dragging Hashtag outside at this point. “It sent creatures to attack us. But me and Nightshade destroyed one and I took care of another myself.”

Now outside, Hashtag didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

“Really?” Hashtag rhetorically asked. She thought this had to be some kind of poorly planned joke.

“Yes, really!” The smaller answered, frustrated that she wasn't being taken seriously. “Look, its remains are over here-”

The bisected upper half of the monster was gone, only leaving a puddle of oily blood by the opening of the garage.

Before Hashtag could react, her sister let go of her arm, frantically looking around the building’s exterior for any signs of the missing body.

Hashtag did her best to keep up with her, eventually finding Twitch directly behind the barn, seemingly frozen in place.

“Hey, what's wrong? You're acting-”

The upper half of the creature that Twitch fought previously cut Hashtag off. The two sisters watched in stunned silence as what should have been a corpse pulled parts of the other slain monstrosity into itself. Threads from its wound skewered and pulled scattered limbs, bones, and plating together to reconstruct itself. The final result took the form of a metallic homunculus centaur.

“So that's what you were talking about.” Was all Hashtag could say before the beast spotted the pair, instantly lunging for them.

They both were barely able to dodge the strike, causing the centaur’s arm to slash at a nearby bench, slicing it in two. After realizing it had missed, it started galloping on clawed legs in another loop before heading towards Twitch. She didn't have time to get up before it was upon her. Its front legs, the former arms of its lower half, held Twitch down as it prepared for a devastating swipe.

Hashtag took a moment to recover, before her optics lit up. She was right next to the family grill’s propane tank.

She ripped it out and triumphantly held it above her head.

“Hey, freak!”

The thing turned around just in time to have the tank smash its face in. Twitch scrambled free as it loosened its grip. She zipped away as the monster's head weakly turned to face her, its jaw hanging on by a few sinews.

She aimed her blaster at the propane tank.

“Yippee kayak other buckets.” Hashtag didn't get the Brooklyn 99 reference.

The tank exploded into a huge fireball. Chunks of the creature’s flesh and limbs flew all over the place. The sisters didn't have much time to celebrate before panic set back in.

“That thing must be doing something horrible to Nightshade!” Twitch belated frantically.

“Twitch, I mean…” Hashtag loosely kicked one of the detached parts. “It looks pretty dead to me.”

“No, a much bigger one got them!”

“Oh…wait, I've got Nightshade's signal! We can track them!” Hashtag said cheerfully.

“Wait, what?”

“What do you mean, what? Did Nightshade not tell you about those tracking implants they put in us? I can follow them.”

Twitch decided this wasn't the time to question that. She picked up her swords and gave her sister a solid nod.

“Let's get ‘em, Hashtag.”

_____

The bloody figure in the mural was similar to the monster’s minions, except for the enormous horns and eight spider-like eyes. Nightshade looked towards the thing to see a snarl replaced its grin.

His captors began, furious. “Where is SHE! I must speak with her you-”

“How rude of you to yell at your superior. Besides, she is busy at the moment. You should know that better than anyone… leach.”

The painting could somehow move, as if each brush stroke independently changed on their own.

“If you're asking to start your own colony, then the answer is still no. Even if she was here to allow it.”

“Why not? This one has the potential to bring a new generation into being. Plus, I have the strength and knowledge to lead the way to greatness.”

It pushed Nightshade forward like it was showing their teacher its homework, with a tinge desperation is in its voice.

“For one, you think you're anything special because you fused to a cybertronian body? Any brain dead husk could do that. Second, you are considered on line for execution for abandoning your duty and attempting to start a hive. Third, my lady wouldn't like to see this poor child be subject to your will.

So I suggest you just save us all the trouble of hunting you down, and end your life before we can.”

It finished with a scrap-eating smile.

“Leach.”

The beast's eyes narrowed, it's expression morphing into pure anger.

“You ugly son of a-” A barrage of swears and curses that Nightshade only heard in the movie came out of its mouth. Some of them were for languages they couldn't even begin to understand.

This gave Nightshade the chance to sneak away while it was distracted. When they were sufficiently far enough, they ran down what they thought was the outside door. They were met with a control panel that required a code to progress. Completely over this scrap, Nightshade just ripped the panel off.

After a bit of fiddling with the wiring, the door swung open. Nightshade sprinted into the cool night. They looked behind them to see their captor had apparently kept them in a crashed alien ship.

“Look, they're over there!”

A wonderfully familiar voice rang out of the forest. Not a moment later, Nightshade recognized the bright headlights of Hashtag’s alt mode, with Twitch, curiously, riding on her back.

“Hashtag! You're awake! Twitch, did you-”

Of course, they were interrupted by Twitch ramming into them for a hug. Nightshade awkwardly patted their sister on the back.

“Woah! Were you in there, Nightshade?” The largest of the siblings eagerly drove up the entrance of the downed ship. She was knocked backwards as the monster reared its head out of the entrance.

“YOU!” It bellowed, fangs bared. It reached towards Nightshade with feverish rage, clearly infuriated that it had been cheated.

Hashtag, still in her alt mode, took the initiative to drive at the monster's leg at full speed. Having taken it by surprise, it was off balance enough that she managed to cleanly snap its calf from its thigh. The leg went flying, and the monster screeched in pain.

“Wow, that actually worked?” She seemed genuinely surprised.

Twitch grabbed Nightshade and the satellite of Hashtag's alt mode, attempting to yank the two forward. “It's not going to stay down for long! We need to get out of here!”

“Aw, really? I mean, we took out its leg, right? That's gotta be enough. Can't I atleast get to check out the spaceship?” Hashtag pleaded.

The monster screamed again, rearing up to charge at them on its three remaining legs. “INSOLENT CHILDREN! I'LL WEAR YOUR CADAVERS AS NECKLACES WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU!”

“...Nevermind, I want to go home now.”

With Hashtag having the most energy of the siblings (and being the largest), she stuck to her alt mode with the other two on the roof of her van, racing through the woods with the alien on their tail. Having removed its leg had slowed it down, but not enough that out running it would be easy.

Twitch was using what little strength she had to fire lasers back at their pursuer, to little avail.

“Hey, I probably should have asked this earlier, but where are we going?” Hashtag's radio called out.

Nightshade glared daggers through the window of their sister’s alt mode. “What?! Hashtag, you're the one driving! Are we just headed in a random direction?”

“I panicked! This is terrifying! Just be grateful I'm not leaking oil or anything!”

Before Nightshade could respond, they heard the familiar chugging of a train. Sure enough, just up ahead was one of the unmanned Ghost trains. Finally, a fighting chance.

“Is that a train?” Twitch took a moment's break to look behind her. A flash of recognition in her optics told Nightshade she had just gotten the same idea they did.

“Hashtag! Can you control the-” She began, but it seems her sister was also on the same wavelength. Using her remote hacking abilities, she had the cybernetic train slow down, allowing her to drive across the track. “Hold on, I'm going to make a hard left!”

The monster, clearly not giving it the human made locomotive a second thought, turned around to continue its chase. The nanosecond it stepped foot on the tracks, Hashtag had the train pull forward at max speed, obliterating its remaining hind leg. With a hellish roar, their pursuer fell to the ground, where Hashtag preemptively ran its torso over and over again with the train until she was satisfied.

“I saw that in a movie once, it's called double tapping. You don't stop until you know it's dead.” She chimed, seemingly happy with the results.

Shifting back to bot mode, all three siblings cautiously approached the slain beheatmoth, its nightmarish body splayed in half. Oily guts coated the tracks and train, leaving a thick smell of burned rubber and iron in the air.

“...I think I'm going to pass out.” Twitch fell to her knees, exhausted, clutching her forehead. Both Nightshade and Hashtag ran to her side, picking her up by the shoulders.

“Woah, hey, Twitch, you're good, you're good. That was the main monster, right, Nightshade?” Hashtag's big blue optics glittered with hope in their sibling's direction, waiting for a positive response.

“Well… yes and no. From what I saw, this creature is part of some alien society with others if it's kind. However, it seems its… higher ups, for lack of a better term, don't have much interest in coming to earth.”

“So… it's working alone, right? We're done?” Twitch pulled herself up, gaining a bit of balance.

“For now. This is something we'll have to discuss with Optimus Prime and Megatron.”

“Oh man, Optimus… are we going to get in trouble for destroying this train?” Hashtag worriedly looked over the damaged Ghost train. Unsurprisingly, repeatedly ramminging it into a giant alien had done a significant amount of damage.

“I think they'll understand.” Nightshade reassured her.

“Are we… we need to check up on the others at home.” Twitch began hovering back to the direction of the family house, still determined as ever to keep her loved ones safe.

A giant claw smacked her out of the sky without a moment's notice, breaking both her wing and the eerie silence of the forest.

It wasn't dead. Not completely, anyway.

The monster's head and shoulder were still loosely held onto its right arm by a few mangled tendrils, allowing the wounded creature to drag itself slowly across the grass.

“Nightshade, we aren't done. Please, listen to me. I can promise you-”

Nightshade noticed a glowing orb hanging on to the lower part of its neck, appearing to be some sort of power cell.

They walked over as the creature continued its monologue. It seemed to believe the green bot was considering its offer.

Nightshade stomped on the power cell repeatedly, until it exploded into a pile of azure sludge. As they had predicted, all life signs from the creature faded, and its tendrils loosened their grip on its body completely.

“I am so tired of that thing.” They sneered, unusually bitter. Their facial expression softened as they turned back to their injured sister. “Are you alright, Twitch?”

“Ugh, I'm… yeah, I'll just need to get this fixed.” She confirmed, shaking her loosened wing to test its durability.

Hashtag transformed, honking her van’s horn. “Ok, you guys need to tell me everything on the way back. I'm so confused right now. Hop on already!”

---FIN—

[aoelustious]

Alexander, five seconds later: “Too late. I’ve started a thread.”

At 2:43 a.m., freshly stress-spiraling and wrapped in a hoodie like a haunted Victorian boy, he posted The Thread.

@ConfusedBisexual

“hey. i know no one asked but. here’s my clarification on the dream-sequence kiss. and if you’re thinking ‘alex this could’ve been one tweet’ then i have terrible news for you.”

1/???

First of all, let’s establish something: the kiss did not happen. Not in reality. Not in canon. Not in the text. What you witnessed was a dream. A metaphor. A hallucination. A war-induced emotional mirage set to cello music and soft lighting.

It was not real.

You know what else isn’t real? The moon landing. (Just kidding. But this kiss, arguably, less real than that.)

2/???

The kiss was not even labeled “a kiss” in the script. It was described as “an echo of intimacy projected onto memory’s veil.” That is a direct quote. From our script. Our professional script.

If I recall correctly, there were stage directions that said:

“Their mouths meet—not in passion, but in the collapse of time.”

What does that MEAN. What do you want from me.

3/???

People keep asking: “But Alex, your character looked like he was IN LOVE.”

Well.

So did Frodo with Sam. So did Holmes with Watson. So did Aragorn with Legolas for three full movies, and Peter Jackson never addressed it.

Some people have faces that scream yearning. Some of us are just shaped like longing. I don’t control that.

4/???

Also: my head tilt? Directional. The way my hand hovered? Required. The breathy exhale? That was me trying not to choke on synthetic fog.

The “lip brush that became a silence?” THAT WAS ELIZA IMPROVISING. I WAS TOLD TO STARE AHEAD. I FOLLOWED ORDERS.

5/???

Please remember: I am acting. This is my job. I trained for this. I read Stanislavski. I read Chekhov. I once cried for six hours to prepare for a scene where I had to look at a window.

So if I appeared to kiss my scene partners like my soul was breaking? That’s because it was Tuesday and I had matcha instead of coffee. Not. That. Deep.

6/???

I’m seeing a lot of tweets like “Alex’s eyes said he was in love.”

My brother in fandom. I have had those same eyes at brunch. With pancakes.

I make that face when I pet dogs. I once made that face looking at a painting of Napoleon. Emotion ≠ confession. Desire ≠ canon. Acting ≠ autobiography. I AM VERY NORMAL.

7/???

Some of you have sent me gifs in slow-motion with captions like “his breath catches because this is the only time he’s ever felt safe.”

No. My breath caught because Laurens leaned in too fast and his nose hit mine and I panicked and did a weird inhale like I was dying in the Alps. IT WAS A TECHNICAL DIFFICULTY.

8/???

Let’s talk mise en scène. Let’s talk narrative framing. Let’s talk the visual language of false hope.

This was a liminal kiss. A transitional kiss. It exists in the negative space between episodes. It’s an emotional hyperlink.

It’s not canon.

If anything, it’s canon-adjacent.

Like Schrödinger’s kiss. Real and not real. Present and unconsummated. Sappho and Supernatural could never.

9/???

Also, I’m tired of being tagged in screenshots that say “the hand placement was too tender to be platonic.”

Sorry. You know what else is tender? Friendship.

Plato would’ve written fanfiction about us and called it a political treatise. This is not my fault. I’m just a vessel.

10/???

Meanwhile, Eliza posted a photo of us post-kiss with the caption “love is a battlefield” and Laurens has changed his profile bio to “in dreams, we kiss the hardest.”

I AM FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE OUT HERE.

11/???

I have been in my apartment for three days with two laptops open reading essays about the ethics of queerness in fantasy narratives and also one Reddit thread titled “does this count as a polycule if no one admits it?”

(It doesn’t. We haven’t kissed in canon. Which is the only place that matters. Stop calling me “middle boyfriend.”)

12/???

And yes, okay, if Cassian WERE in love with Lira and Thorn—WHICH HE IS NOT—it would be because he sees in them the two halves of his fractured worldview, and being near them makes him feel less like a weapon and more like a man.

But again. That’s hypothetical. That’s academic. That’s LITERARY THEORY. It’s not proof. It’s just the subtext whispering in tongues.

13/???

I am not spiraling. I am clarifying.

I am defending myself from false accusations of chemistry. I am rejecting narrative manipulation. I am REBUKING NETWORK QUEERBAIT WITH THE FURY OF A THEATRE MAJOR IN HIS THIRD ACT.

14/???

And even if we DID kiss in real life, which I am not confirming or denying (because of NDAs and personal dignity), I would simply ask you to consider that actors sometimes kiss like their lives depend on it because that is literally what the director told them to do.

15/???

I hope this clarifies things. The kiss meant nothing. The characters are not in love. I am not in love. There is no throuple. There is only pain.

Thank you for watching Sable Empire.

Please do not tag me in moodboards where I’m wearing a crown of flowers and saying “I would die for both of you.”

(I would. But that’s not the point.)

----

An excerpt from Backstage Revolution latest chapter as Hamilton spirals in an attempt to convince the fans it's pure queerbaiting.

[ask-captain-anya]

anya! :)

bria and I got a pet hamster! she’s so cute, she likes to hide in my laundry basket and eat sunflower seeds :) do you like hamsters? you seem a bit more like a ferret kind of girl to me!!

I’m going back to work once our wedding is over. I’ll be heading up a research mission again, thank goodness. We do a lot of research in my unit, we’re mostly journalists and researchers (aside from Bria, really!) but you know, if the need arises we’re all ready to be brave men on the front lines, hah.

you know, you’d be a good journalist. you’re curious and smart and I think you’d be dedicated enough to do a whole bunch of research and stuff! maybe once you’re able to work again, you should think about it.

yes, technically you need a degree for that but honestly if the writings good they don’t care THAT much. Also, you’ve got a pilots license and everything, that’s a pretty good additional skill to have!

sorry. I’m probably being stupid. I just want to cheer you up whenever we talk. You’re much too sweet and pretty to be sad! I feel the same about bria, she used to be so melancholy and it hurt to watch…

speaking of, I drew a picture of us!! it isn’t the best, I’m not an artist, but I thought maybe I’d send it anyways. hopefully you’ll like it!

love!!

-Kelly xoxo

{went off anon for this sorry </3 also this is meant to be Kelly’s art style not mine lol}

A hamster? Wow, you two are moving pretty fast, huh? Joking, of course. I don't know much about rodents, admittedly. I don't think I would have the patience to take care of one. A cat or a dog, yes you have to clean up after them. But.. Don't hamsters need big cages full of toys and that fluffy stuff? It seems like a lot.

I loved seeing people's enclosures for them, though. Sometimes they were so creative.

Is Bria going out with you? It's nice working with your partner, especially when your work leads you away from home a lot. If your girls ever need something while you're gone, give them my number. I know they have your extended family, but I am in the area too.

As for jobs.. I don't know. I haven't really been feeling up to writing. I know I have the voice to text now, it just feels so tiring. I want writing to be fun, so maybe my journalism career will have to wait for now. And.. I don't have a pilots license. I have a certificate to pilot Pony Express cargo vessels, but I highly doubt that will transfer to a new field.

But that's enough about that! I showed your art to Curly, he said you drew us very accurately! My scanner app was only able to tell me "woman with short hair looking at woman with long hair," which isn't very helpful in this scenario. I'm making Curly print it out for me when he goes to work tomorrow, I want to put it on the wall!

With Love, Anya

[fluentmoviequoter]

White Boulder Christmas

Day 5 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Stu Redman x fem!reader

Summary: You experience your first white Christmas in the Boulder Free Zone.

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Warnings: spoilers for The Stand (the book & the miniseries), fluff, angst, vague description of injuries.

A/N: The Stand is one of my favorite books of all time and I think about Stu a concerning amount, so I am very excited to try writing for him! He may be OOC but I'm planning to keep writing for him so I can improve. I used Gary Sinise's portrayal of him in the 1994 miniseries because he was amazing (I could talk about the 1994 adaptation and the book all day so if anyone has requests, feedback, or comments please please please send them to me!!)!

The last 200 miles into Boulder are the hardest. You thought the trip would be easier once you crossed the state line into Colorado. It isn’t. You haven’t seen another person in days, you’re tired, and the dreams are getting more intense. As the sun sets on a state you always wanted to visit - granted, it seemed more enjoyable before the virus, but it’s still beautiful - you break into a jog as you see the flickering lights of civilization. The town is tiny, and the only reason you know where you are is the small sign reading “Kiowa Creek Church.” Trying the doorknob of what used to be the municipal police station, you sigh as it opens easily. You thoroughly check the building before setting your backpack down, leaning it against a cell door to keep it open, and collapsing onto one of the cots.

“Boulder, here I come,” you whisper to the dilapidated ceiling before drifting to sleep, visions of corn fields and black crows invading your mind.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up, there’s a wet nose pressed to the pulse point under your jaw. You jerk away from the unexpected and unwelcome touch, raising your hand to your neck. As you turn your body, you see a dog wagging its tail as it looks up at you. Your eyes widen as your hand falls into your lap before you squeal and lean forward to hug the dog.

“Kojak!” a deep voice yells outside.

“Is that you?” you ask the dog, scratching behind its ears as you stand. “Are you Kojak?”

When he hears his name, Kojak’s tail wags harder as he walks beside you, sitting at your feet as you gather your things.

“C’mon, Kojak,” you summon, snapping as he trots to your side to walk beside you.

The main door is barely open, proof that Kojak pushed inside to find you. Opening it the rest of the way, Kojak bounds out before you, stopping on the porch and looking between you and a man standing in the middle of the dirt road separating the buildings of Kiowa, Colorado.

“You find him yet?” another man, taller and younger than the first, asks, turning the corner.

“Kojak here found me,” you interrupt, waving shyly.

The younger man smiles a crooked grin that makes your heart drop as you forget why you’re in this deserted town in the first place.

“Well, then perhaps I owe him a thanks. I’m Stu Redman, this is Glen Bateman, and you’ve met Kojak,” he introduces, climbing the first step as he extends his hand to you.

You place your hand in his, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Where are you going?” you ask, your hand still in Stu’s.

“Boulder. You?” Glen answers.

“Boulder,” you inform with a firm nod. “Not that I really had much of a choice.”

Stu smiles again and says, “Did any of us? I’ll assume you’ve met her then?”

“And him,” you add.

Stu drops your hand and steps off the stairs, gesturing with his head for you to join him.

“We have room for one more, right, Glen?”

You look down at Kojak, squatting to pet him again so Glen doesn’t think there is any pressure to say yes.

“Would it matter what I said, East Texas?” Glen replies; you’re thankful you can hear the teasing in his voice.

“East Texas?” you parrot, looking up at Stu.

“Born and raised in Arnette. Seems to have stuck.”

“Just like Kojak seems to be stuck to you,” Glen says. “What’d you do? Feed him?”

“No, he found me. I was asleep. I’m just glad to see another dog!” you exclaim cheerfully.

“Just the dog?” Stu clarifies, his brows raised playfully.

“Just the dog,” you agree, shaking your head as you smile.

“Well, then, who’s ready to get to Boulder?” Glen asks, pulling his backpack straps over his shoulder.

“Me,” you and Stu say together.

He slips his hand into yours to help you stand up, and you instantly know that the last 100 miles will be the easiest yet because you’re not alone.

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯✯✯✯

Stu turns to you, and you look away, harshly wiping the tears from your face. He steps to you, gently grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands away. He drops his head to catch your eyes, but you refuse to look at him.

“I won’t say bye,” you mumble, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just giving you a hug to hold me over until we see each other again when I get back. Can you do that?”

“Only if you promise to come back.” You finally look up at him, and he releases your wrists to cup your face.

“I can’t make that promise.”

“And I can’t keep fighting without you.”

“I promise to do everything I can to come back to you. That’s all I can do for now.”

You bite your bottom lip and nod, your face in his hands. “I love you,” you whisper.

Stu’s eyes are glassy, but his smile is anything but sad as he looks at you. “That goes right back to you, ma’am,” he replies, leaning his forehead against yours after kissing it. “Wait for me?”

“Forever.”

You can’t stay with the other girls and wave them off because you know you’ll end up chasing him. Stu likewise doesn’t turn around when Larry does, instead keeping his eyes on the horizon as he promises himself and anyone else listening that he will do everything he has to do to get back to you. After he finishes the fight, he'll return to you, even if he can barely stand and has to fall into your arms.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Teddy, can you put me on the volunteer rotation for December?” you ask after a free-zone meeting. “It’s been the same people since we got here, and it’s almost Christmas, they deserve a break.”

Teddy smiles as he scribbles your name on a piece of paper before slipping it back into his pocket. “Absolutely. And thank you, they’ll really appreciate that.”

When you get a call the next day asking you to take a security post at the border of the Boulder Free Zone, you jump on the opportunity to help (and try to get your mind off Stu). The women in town are busy trying to do something small for Christmas but are worried that the scouts won’t be back in time, so there’s a debate as to whether or not it should be delayed until they return. In the anonymous vote, you chose to wait because you can’t imagine celebrating anything without knowing where Stu is. For tonight, though, you focus on your surroundings, not Stu’s crooked smile or East Texas accent. Or the moment he told you that he loves you.

Because of the low number of volunteers, the shifts are long. You’re five hours into a twelve-hour night shift when the first snowflake lands on your nose. You look up to the sky, unfamiliar with snow, especially in December. Within twenty minutes, snow is powdering the ground and continues falling, getting heavier each minute. 

“A white Christmas,” you say quietly to yourself. 

Then you laugh. Although your first white Christmas is in the Boulder Free Zone, surrounded by fear, fighting, and uncertainty, those little snowflakes are piling hope into your heart that everything will turn out fine.

Shaking your head, you return your attention to the night to protect your new family and temporary home, but you keep smiling as the temperature drops and the once-hopeless world turns white just in time for Christmas.

As the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, barely visible through the snow clouds, you hear an engine rumbling in the distance. The radio has been silent all night because no one else heard anything. As the noise gets louder, you’re positive someone is racing toward the Boulder Free Zone. You raise your rifle, looking through the scope to aim where the road twists around the hill. As the truck approaches the curve, it suddenly stops, and the engine dies. The night goes quiet, the sound of two doors closing the only proof you didn’t imagine the truck. When the first figure enters your sight on the scope, you drop your gun and run toward him.

“Tom!” you yell, fumbling to get your radio out of your pocket.

Tom looks up and says your name twice, first as a question, then an exclamation of joy. He drops his voice again to say, “He hurt his leg real bad.”

You look to your left and see the one man you’ve been waiting for since the moment he left. 

“You waited,” Stu says, smiling as you rush to him and wrap your arms around his waist.

His arms loop over your shoulders and grip you tightly, pulling you against him like he’s melting into you.

“Let me radio for help,” you say into his chest. 

Pulling back, you call Teddy and tell him that Stu and Tom are back before requesting a truck. He doesn’t answer with a yes or no, but the radio is full of cheers, yells, and crying, so you assume someone is on the way. Turning back to Stu, you let him lean against you and look down at his leg.

“Are you alright?” you ask quietly.

“I’m great now,” he answers, meeting your eyes when you look up.

“M-o-o-n, that spells great,” Tom says beside you.

“Is it just you two?” you whisper to Stu.

He nods, tightening his grip on you slightly.

“They saved our lives,” you add.

“It’s not just us,” Tom calls, “there’s one more. Laws, yes!”

You glance up at Stu, who furrows his brows. He catches on quickly and whistles. You look past him as Kojak runs around the corner and straight to you.

“Kojak!” you cheer, reaching down with the hand not supporting Stu. “I’m so happy to see you, buddy!”

“You didn’t get that excited about me,” Stu grumbles.

You look up at him and begin to say something, but the sound of a truck approaching cuts you off. The headlights on Teddy’s truck fall on you as he parks, helping Stu into the passenger seat while you, Tom, and Kojak get in the back. You can’t see much of him, but you watch Stu the entire drive to the hospital, holding Kojak as you smile, glad to have your boys back.

Once you get Tom home and settled, you and Kojak return to the hospital, checking on Fran before taking your seats in Stu’s room, Kojak on the end of his bed and you at the window, watching the snowfall. When Stu wakes up, he smiles at Kojak before looking around the room. 

“First time seeing snow?” he asks.

You turn when you hear his voice, smiling as you walk to his side. “No. But it is my first white Christmas,” you answer, slipping your hand into his. “I’ve always dreamed of a white Christmas. Dreams change though.”

“Meaning?”

“I would trade a white Christmas for a Christmas with you,” you admit shyly.

He kisses your knuckles before shifting in the bed, inviting you to sit beside him. You watch the snow and each other as you talk about your Christmas traditions pre-Captain Trips. The doctor comes in to check on him several times and gives you updates on Fran as well. When he finds out he can be released in a day or so, he starts walking through the hospital on his crutches, taking you and Kojak with him, determined to walk on his own by Christmas.

✯✯✯✯✯

December 22, three days before Christmas, you and Stu are walking out of the hospital with no crutches needed. He suddenly pulls his hand from yours, and as you turn around to ask him what’s wrong, a snowball hits you in the middle of the chest. Your jaw drops as you look at Stu, two more snowballs in his hands.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” you call dramatically, kneeling to make a snowball.

“You love me,” Stu yells.

“Luckily for you,” you reply as you throw a snowball, hitting him in the shoulder.

As you exchange snowballs, laughing and yelling with more joy than you thought was possible to feel given the previous year, you’re glad Christmas is on schedule. The people around you need it more than ever.

“Ow!” Stu yells, falling backward into a snowbank.

You drop your snowballs and run to his side, kneeling beside his uninjured leg. “Did you hurt your leg again?” you ask.

He raises a hand to your bicep and rolls over, pushing you into the snow as he hovers above you, smiling.

“You’re okay?” you ask, breathless. Stu nods, and you release a sigh before shaking your head at him. “You scared me.”

His eyes are locked on yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. More than I can say.”

He leans down and kisses you, smiling against your lips as he slips his gloved hand between your head and the snowbank beneath you. Your hands rise to his shoulders as you pull yourself toward him, shivering against him. He breaks away, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before standing and helping you up, your hand secure in his as he walks you home.

There’s a small Christmas tree in your front window, and Stu smiles when he sees it. Kojak meets you at the door, circling your legs as you take your coats, hats, and mittens off. 

“Stu?” you ask as he stands, wiping his hands after starting a fire. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

“I couldn’t leave you. Especially now that I know you’re celebrating your first white Christmas,” he responds, walking to stand in front of you, the Christmas tree on one side and the warmth of the fire on the other.

“So, what now? I mean, what happens after Christmas? Are you going home, East Texas?”

He cups your face, just as he had before leaving, and smiles when you lean into his touch, his warmth. “I don’t care where I go,” he answers, “As long as you’re by my side for this Christmas, and every Christmas after.”

“Even if they’re not white?”

“Say you want them all white and we’ll go wherever you want, ma’am.”

“I want to go wherever you are,” you state, wrapping your fingers around his wrists.

He drops his hands and grabs your waist, pulling you in to kiss you. He whispers against your lips, “We’ll figure it out after Christmas.”

You nod against him, waiting until you break apart to say, “I love you.”

“I’ve loved you since I laid eyes on you, and I will love you until there is no such thing as a white Christmas.”

You smile, ready to say more, but his actions speak louder as he pulls you in again, Kojak curling up at your feet as the snow grows heavier and Boulder turns white, just in time for your first Christmas with Stu.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Dinosaurs » Sebastian Stan

Pairings: Boyfriend!Sebastian Stan x Mom/Girlfriend!Reader with son Brandon

Summary: Sebastian meets Y/N’s 4 year old son for the first time.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, hugs and kisses, nicknames for son (buddy, sweetie), pet names for Y/N (dragă [sweetheart in Romanian])

A/N: I used Google translation for the Romanian translations.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Sebby!” You say, throwing yourself in Sebastian’s arms.

Sebastian smiles widely and caught you by wrapping his arms around your waist. He walked inside of your house, closing the door behind him. He gently put you on your feet and kissed you passionately.

“I missed you so much, dragă.” Sebastian says against your lips.

“I missed you more.” You say.

“Impossible.” He says with a smile.

You two pulled away from each other and looked into each other’s eyes.

“Are you ready to meet my son?” You asked him.

“Yes.” He smiles. “Where is he?” He asked.

“Playing in his bedroom.” You take his hand in yours. “Follow me.” You say.

Sebastian follows behind you as you led him upstairs to your 4 year old son’s bedroom. You two walked in his room to see him playing with his favorite stuffed dinosaur.

“Brandon, are you busy?” You asked him.

“I’m not busy for mommy.” Brandon says, looking up at you with the cutest look on his face.

You and Sebastian sat down on the floor in front of Brandon. Brandon put down his dinosaur so you two had all of his attention.

“Brandon, this is mommy’s boyfriend Sebastian.” You tell him.

“It’s very nice to meet you, buddy!” Sebastian says with a smile.

Brandon looks at Sebastian, blinking a couple times.

“You’re Bucky!” Brandon says excitedly, pointing at Sebastian.

“Yes I am.” Sebastian says with a small laugh.

Brandon crawled onto Sebastian’s lap and looked up at him.

“I like Bucky.” He tells him. “So does mommy.” He says.

“Does she now?” Sebastian says, looking at you with a smile, making you blush.

“Do you like dinosaurs?” Brandon asks, changing the subject.

“Yes I do.” Sebastian answers.

Brandon reaches over to grab his dinosaur and held it up to show Sebastian.

“This is my dinosaur. His name is Mr. Dino.” Brandon says.

“He’s really cool.” Sebastian says with a smile as he admired the stuffed dinosaur.

“Do you like ice cream?” He asks, changing the subject again.

“Yes.” He answers.

“Can we get some?” Brandon asks.

“Only if it’s ok with mommy.” Sebastian tells him.

Brandon looked at you with puppy dog eyes. He didn’t need to give you that face for you to say yes.

“Of course we can, sweetie.” You smiled.

“Yay!” Brandon cheers. “Can you carry me?” He asks Sebastian.

“Of course, buddy.” Sebastian smiles.

Sebastian stood up with Brandon in his arms. You followed behind them and listened to Brandon tell Sebastian all of the cool facts he knows about dinosaurs. You smiled to yourself, loving that your son and boyfriend are bonding.

After you guys got ice cream, you and Sebastian took Brandon to the park so he could play for a while. He got tired after a half hour of running around and playing and ended up falling asleep in the car. You went to pick up Brandon from his car seat, but Sebastian stopped you.

“I got him, dragă.” Sebastian says softly.

You smiled and stepped out of the way, watching as Sebastian picked up Brandon and went inside of the house with you following behind them.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You asked Sebastian, hoping that he’s able to stay over longer.

“Yes. You pick the movie and I’ll put Brandon to bed for you.” Sebastian says.

You smiled and went to the living room to pick a movie while Sebastian took Brandon upstairs to his bedroom. He carefully laid him down on his bed and covered him up with a blanket and gave him his favorite dinosaur.

“Sebby?” Brandon says sleepily.

“What’s up, buddy?” Sebastian asks in almost a whisper.

“You make my mommy happy.” He says.

“Your mommy makes me happy too.” Sebastian smiles. “Goodnight, buddy.” He says softly.

Sebastian quietly closed the bedroom door. He smiles to himself as he walks to the living room.

“What’s with the smile?” You asked curiously as Sebastian sat down next to you on the couch.

“Brandon told me that I make you happy.” He says.

“I told you that he’d love you.” You say with a smile as you cuddled yourself up against his side.

You leaned up and kissed him passionately. You two smiled against each other’s lips.

“What movie did you pick?” Sebastian asks you.

You didn’t say anything. A grin grew across your lips. Sebastian chuckled and playfully shook his head.

“Let me guess, am I in it?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say with a giggle.

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” He asks.

“Endings Beginnings.” You tell him, the grin never left your face.

“Oh god.” Sebastian blushes.

“It’s my favorite movie!” You say.

“I’m pretty sure I know why it’s your favorite movie.” He says with a small chuckle.

You couldn’t help but smile at him as he laughs softly at your cuteness.

“Play the movie. I want to cuddle with you.” He says.

You pressed play and snuggled yourself against his side again as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Seb?” You say softly, looking up at him.

“Yes, dragă?” Sebastian asks, looking down at you.

“I love you.” You say.

“I love you too.” He says back, smiling widely.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[mickittotheman]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

Huge thank to @mickeym4ndy for tagging me! I love these things 🤠

how’s your day going? could be worse! my boss was absolutely wilding today but I did get to spend most of my shift writing fanfic so that was nice.

are you okay? My Chemical Romance song plays faintly in distance

what is your favourite shade of your favourite colour? hmm definitely a pale sort of sky blue, kind of like this

are you single? very

are you happy about that? most of the time? 

what age do you feel in your brain? what brain? jk lol sometimes i feel like a little kid, sometimes i feel well past my prime. I’m in my mid-twenties though.

do you feel like the good times are behind you or ahead of you? hopefully ahead!!!

do you have a best friend? yes i have managed to maintain the same one since middle school

did you have a childhood pet? so many! over the course of my childhood I have had rabbits, chickens, ducks, geese, turtles, a tortoise, crabs, hamsters, mice, fish, dogs, and turkeys (the turkeys sadly only survived one day)

do you sing or whistle around the house? sometimes i sing if no one is around and i’m in the mood

do you light candles or incense? candles but only on special occasions because i get sad when they’re all used up

are you busy Friday night? it's my dog's birthday! also the ides of march so very busy all around

if you were a circus performer which act would you be in?  my heart says knife thrower my brain says clown

what is your favourite outfit? hmmm i have these really soft worn dark green pants that look killer with a black shirt and an open dark teal button up layered over so probably that. bonus points if i add in a leather belt and boots and also my totebag with cartoon dogs on it. Another strong contender: tannish/orangish pants with a white tee open navy button up and my socks with weiner dogs that have hotdog buns and toppings. ideally though i would live in my pajamas (which are also almost all dog prints)

what's the last thing you created? I've been working on a fic for fun for a while now! haven't shared any of it yet but maybe someday lol.

what is your favourite fic or book of all time? ooooh so hard to choose. I absolutely loved etherized against the sky by snarfle. I’m a huge sucker for angst centered around secrets and misunderstandings and miscommunication. also it was so funny but also tricked me into a few unwilling therapeutic breakthroughs. 

what are you looking forward to? sleeping! I am so tired lol. also my dog's birthday party of course. 

what can put you immediately in a better mood? anything to do with my special interest. and also puppies

do you like hugs? ehhhhhh i’m like one of those cats who will rarely tolerate hugs and even more rarely enjoy them

what is something you wish people understood about you?  that i have no idea what is going on at any time ever and that everything is also so very scary but i am being very brave about it

Tagging: @wh0lemilk0vich @jezzibelle89 @swiftfootedachilles @sillygoofygoobersstuff @jademickian BUT only if you want to of course if not this is just me saluting you and also it might be thursday by the time yall see this sorry 😬🫡🫣

[she-karev]

Man’s Best Friend (Andrew DeLuca Gets a Dog Imagine)

Previous Part Here

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Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Two of Three

Fandom: Station 19

Canon Episode: Season 4 Episode 4

Summary: Andrew DeLuca calls Amber and apologizes for comparing her to her father that she accepts. He later takes the dog to the shelter but backs out and decides to adopt the dog and take him home.

Words: 1222

April 8th 2020

Andrew DeLuca walks down the hall and goes inside a supply closet where he pulls out his phone and goes to Amber’s contact on his favorites. He decides to take Bailey’s advice and tell Amber how he feels instead of showing it to her. He paces the room for a few moments before pressing her name and holding the phone against his ear as it rings. It rings a few times before Amber answers and cuts to the chase. 

“Have I not made myself clear this morning?”

“Trust me you did I didn’t call for that I called…I called to say I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.” Amber numbly tells him, “Look I don’t want to hear promises of a better future for us I’m tired of hearing them.”

“I know that this isn’t that I meant I’m sorry for the things I said to you three months ago.” Andrew says truthfully and explains, “I had a junkie come into the pit after I saved his dog from overdosing on drugs, he gave him to knock him out. This guy he was…he was pathetic, he was cruel, and he was just a selfish son of a bitch all around.”

Andrew sighs at the memory and gets to the point of this phone call, “I think I saw your father in this guy and seeing him in person…Saying you would end like him earned me that slap that night and more.”

One Shot Here

“Andrew-”

“Just let me finish please.” Andrew pleads and her silence on the other end is answer, “You’re not your father, the only thing you have in common with him is your DNA and that’s it, nothing else. Don’t ever let what I said get in your head because it’s not true and I’m sorry I said them, I am so sorry…If one of us ended up like our abusive dads it’s me.” Andrew says bitterly in self-loathing, “And…if you give me another chance I will not run, I will earn back the trust that I lost…but I get if you don’t want to do that. But you need to know I am very sorry; from the bottom of my heart I am sorry.”

Andrew hears sniffling from the other end telling him that Amber is crying.

He hears her inhale before speaking, “Thank you, I needed to hear that.”

“I know you did. I know it’s what I would have wanted to hear from my dad so…I’m trying to do what he’s not.”

He hears silence in the background for a few moments before she responds, “Your…you’re doing great at it so far…not ending up like him.”

Her words catch him off guard and all he can do is hold the phone as he hears shuffling in the background, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hangs up and for the first time since they broke up Andrew doesn’t feel so hopeless after a conversation with Amber. He puts his phone away and heads back to the pit.

Later at The Pet Shelter

Andrew stands inside the building where the pets reside after being dropped off or abandoned. He stands six feet away from the front desk where two women work. The dog he treated, Jazz, is on a leash held by Andrew who waits for the women to take the dog so he can head home and rest after the day he had.

“Name?” The senior woman, Betty asks.

“Dr. Andrew DeLuca.” The young lady, Mary, puts a clipboard and form in front of him, “No I’m not here to adopt I’m here to drop off this dog. He came to my hospital after his trash owner fed him drugs, I revived him and now I’m here to hand him to you guys.”

“Handing him to us?” Mary asks smug.

“Like a sack of old clothes?” Betty asks to shame him.

Andrew groans at this, “Look guys I’ve had a bad day which is the fourth one this week, I work at a hospital during a pandemic. I have patients up to my neck and I need sleep so don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I rescued a dog that is universally considered a good thing.”

“Someone wants a parade.”

He rolls his eyes, “No I don’t want a parade I just want to get home. You guys rehome animals so rehome Jazz.”

“Jazz huh?” Mary asks interested, “Do you think his old owners like jazz music?”

“I don’t know.” Andrew answers sharply, “I didn’t ask him when he came into the pit after his wife beat him with a baseball bat and he put a needle in his face.”

“Sounds like you have an eventful job.” Betty says blankly.

“You have no idea.” Andrew hands the leash to Mary, “Tell me where I need to sign so I can get out of here.”

“Come on man just take him.” Mary implores to his annoyance, “I mean you can’t be worse than the druggie with the bat swinging wife.”

“Gee thanks.” Andrew says sarcastically, “I work all day, I don’t have the time or patience for a dog. Where are the forms?”

“Right here.” Andrew clicks his pen to sign the release papers, “Maybe your wife could look after him, or girlfriend, or boyfriend.”

Andrew groans at the reminder that he is alone in the middle of a pandemic, “It’s just me, okay. I signed the papers thank you for whatever this was, but I am going.” Andrew starts to walk away, “This is a no kill shelter, right?”

“I mean mostly.” Mary’s words stop Andrew in place, and he turns to them as Jazz sits on the floor looking at Andrew. He sighs behind his mask before he starts to consider a crazy idea he might regret.

Later

Andrew walks inside his apartment with the dog in hand who pants excitedly as he enters the apartment with Andrew carrying dog food and a dog bed he recently bought for his new companion. He exhales in exhaustion before taking his mask off and closing the door. He unhooks the leash causing the dog to walk around the apartment limping. Andrew drops the stuff on the floor with a thud still on the fence of getting a dog.

He lays the small dog bed on the floor beside the kitchen and sees his new dog sitting on his bottom looking at his new owner with a tongue over his mouth panting.

“I’ll shower you with love tomorrow, right now I gotta shower and sleep so good night.” Andrew moves to the bathroom to shower and change into his pajamas and comes back to find Jazz laying on Andrew’s queen bed looking ready to sleep. He dismisses the idea seeing his bed as sacred space, “Hey no, no, off the bed it’s for humans not dogs off now!”

He snaps his fingers pointing down, but Jazz whines and keeps lying on his stomach with his head on his paw.

Andrew groans but complies, “Fine whatever I’m tired.” He gets under the covers as Jazz moves to the right side of the bed and laying against Andrew’s leg, “This is the last time, do you understand me?” Jazz falls asleep causing Andrew to sigh and close his eyes already questioning if getting a dog was such a good idea.

Next Part Here

[alexiusgoesrogue]

Status Update: Day Two

Once again, the morning started earlier than planned (8am). We chose to get ready and go to the shops to buy some drinks and snacks for our lunch boxes we wanted to make for today’s adventure. Bee cooked sushi rice as well for us to pack.

With our backpacks full, we made our way down to the cable car station.

Up the hills, we took a quick look around the museum/shop and enjoyed the view right next to the station.

Our next stop was the Space Place, an observatory and sort of small space museum. We got tickets for both the museum and the show which was scheduled to begin just a couple of minutes after our arrival. The museum itself was fun to explore, and the show was a 20 minute kids animation about the tilt of the earth, and a roughly 25 minute presentation of the night sky, constellations, and the insane size of space, all projected on the dome ceiling.

Afterwards, we went on to explore the park and gardens. About halfway through and after buying some souvenirs (which I won’t reveal here, because they’re gifts for family), we sat down to eat our lunches.

(Video for listening to the amount of noise the cicadas made the entire time)

Food Ranking:

Sushi Rice with Tuna and Garlic powder: 4/5, a really neat idea for an easy but tasty lunch, maybe could need a bit more spices or other ingredients to get a bit more flavour in (or just more tuna)

Apple Juice: 4/5, very similar to the apple juice I know but a bit sweeter. Not overly sweet, but sweeter than I’m used to

Apple-Mango Puree: 5/5, very neat flavour, really just a better version of apple sauce and really great for a small snack on the go

Strawberry jello with Mango: 3/5, the jello is fine and not very sugary (probably because it’s intended for kids to eat), but I found the fruit bits in there to not really fit the flavour profile of the jello

***

The trip continued, and our aimless walking and reluctance to reading the map had us ending up lost somewhere in the complete opposite direction of where we wanted to go. While trying to make our way back on track, we met a very nice woman who let us pet her dog and even take a picture of it.

The walk to the start was treacherous and very uphill. Turns out, we took it backwards, just like the walk around the space museum. We took a break in the grass to recharge and then went back the same path to the souvenir shop, determined to make it to the rose garden as intended. Near the succulent garden, I took the first Polaroid picture.

The rose garden was a very nice place, and right next to was a small market set up, but it was about to close down just as we arrived. Our destination was just around the corner though, a small waterfall with a bunch of ducks living their best lives.

Once again, we recharged for a while and agreed to head back to the hostel for a break. It was 2:15pm that moment, meaning we’ve been up and going for almost five hours already. And we noticed how our tours so far never took us further away from the hostel than a 20 minute walk, which is very convenient when your feet are getting tired.

The walk back was even more treacherous than getting lost on the bush trail in the park, requiring two short breaks before finally making it to the pedestrian bridge crossing the highway. We passed the Beehive, the parliament building, and I took another picture of it and Bee with my camera before reaching our hostel.

We took a couple of hours to unwind and to let our feet rest, then it was time for a small surprise idea Bee had for us, a horror maze.

I’ve never really done a lot of horror related attractions aside from the occasional ride at some fair, but I was willing to try it out.

We had to walk in a single file line, so of course, the coward that I am, immediately called out Bee to walk in front. The maze was pitch black with just very rare bits of light and red dots above our heads to lead the way. The scare actors did a fantastical job, they scared us so well all the time. In the maze, I genuinely was really scared and swore to myself I’d never do this stuff ever again, but it was so much fun after getting out. (Probably because it was finally over.)

(Below is my favorite picture taken of us in the maze)

Before leaving, Bee bought the pictures and video for us to cherish the stupid faces we made, and I got myself a Freddy pin for my collection. After that, we made our way over to a gaming cafe.

We each paid $8 for two hours of time. Bee played League of Legends the whole time with friends, I tried getting back into Halo Infinite and Among Us.

The day came to an end around 11pm, sitting together in the common room while I ate ramen noodles (again) and writing the rest of this report while Bee bullies me for the stupid faces I always pull (love you pookie lol).

Sponsorships of the day: One-way cable car tickets, tickets for the Space Place, Fear Factory tickets, chicken kebab, L&P lemonade

[bitletsanddrabbles]

"Dear Charles,

A man named Inkstead* took some pictures of me for Harper’s Bazaar a while ago (I never found out quite why) and one of me holding my secretary in my lap came out very well indeed. When I get the dozen I have ordered I’ll send you one. The secretary, I should perhaps add, is a black Persian cat, 14 years old, and I call her that because she has been around me ever since I began to write, usually sitting on the paper I wanted to use or the copy I wanted to revise, sometimes leaning up against the typewriter and sometimes just quietly gazing out of the window from a corner of the desk, as much as if to say, “The stuff you are doing is a waste of my time, bud.” Her name is Taki (it was originally Take, but we got tired of explaining that this was a Japanese word meaning bamboo and should be pronounced in two syllables), and she has a memory like no elephant ever tried to have. She is usually politely remote, but once in a while will get an argumentative spell and talk back for ten minutes at a time. I wish I knew what she is trying to say then, but I suspect it all adds up to a very sarcastic version of “You can do better.” I’ve been a cat lover all my life (I have nothing against dogs except that they need such a lot of entertaining) and have never quite been able to understand them. Taki is a completely poised animal and always knows who likes cats, never goes near anybody that doesn’t, always walks straight up to anyone, however lately arrived and completely unknown to her, who really does. She doesn’t spend a great deal of time with them, however, just takes a moderate amount of petting and strolls off. She has another curious trick (which may or may not be rare) of never killing anything. She has brought into the house at various times such things as a dove, a blue parakeet, and a large butterfly. The butterfly and the parakeet were entirely unharmed and carried on just as though nothing had happened. The dove gave her a little trouble, apparently not wanting to be carried around, and had a small spot of blood on its breast. But we took it to a bird man and it was all right very soon. Just a bit humiliated. Mice bore her, but she catches them if they insist and then I have to kill them. She has a sort of tired interest in gophers, and will watch a gopher hole with some attention, but gophers bite and after all who the hell wants a gopher anyway? So she just pretends she might catch one, if she felt like it.

She goes with us wherever we go journeying, remembers all the places she has been to before and is usually quite at home anywhere. One or two places have got her – I don’t know why. She just wouldn’t settle down in them. After a while we know enough to take the hint. Chances are there was an axe murderer there once and we’re much better off somewhere else. The guy might come back. Sometimes she looks at me with a rather peculiar expression (she is the only cat I know who will look you straight straight** in the eye) and I have a suspicion that she is keeping a diary, because the expression seems to be saying: “Brother, you think you’re pretty good most of the time, don’t you? I wonder how you’d feel if I decided to publish some of the stuff I’ve been putting down at odd moments.” At certain times she has a trick of holding one paw up loosely and looking at it in a speculative manner. My wife thinks she is suggesting we get her a wrist watch; she doesn’t need it for any practical reason – she can tell the time better than I can – but after all you gotta have some jewelry.

I don’t know why I’m writing all this. It must be I couldn't think of anything else, or – this is where it gets creepy – am I really writing it at all? Could it be that – no, it must be me. Say it’s me. I’m scared.

- Ray

*Actually John Engstead."

- Selected Letters of Raymond Chandler edited by Frank MacShane, pg. 49-51

**I don’t know if the repetition was intentional on Chandler’s part, an error in the letter, or an error in the book, so I left it as is.

[nickgerlich]

Fetch This

We love our pets. They are valued members of our household, and in some cases, we enjoy their company more than we do that of other humans. We speak to them as if they understand our language, although they are very challenged when it comes to communicating back.And we will do almost anything for them.

In addition to the 334 million Americans residing here, there are 89.7 million dogs and 58.3 million cats. That’s a lot of extra mouths to feed, but we do it because we crave their companionship, and without their faithful humans, they would suffer. All told, USAmericans spend $136.8 billion each year on their pets.

That’s a huge market, and while big-box chains like Pet Smart and Petco long ago realized this, I am surprised that mass marketers had not stepped up to the plate to claim a bigger piece of the action.Sure, all the big ones, like Target, Meijer, Walmart, and others, have extensive pet supplies sections in their stores.

But there is still money on the table, and that is pet services. These run the gamut from nail clippings to grooming and vaccinations, the kinds of things that typically require a visit to a veterinarian.

Walmart, though, has sniffed out a potentially lucrative strategy to break into that sector by opening its first pet center, with plans to open many more if it does well.

I am betting that, in addition to realizing this market is simply too good to ignore, that Walmart is also very much aware that change is afoot in the veterinary services field as well. Turns out that between 2017 and 2022, $45 billion in private equity deals were made to scoop up local vets and their clinics. That’s another way of saying that, while your local vet may look and smell like a home-town operation, they may very well be part of a much larger entity.

That’s your cue, Walmart, because if vet clinics are attracting that kind of PE money, there must be a lot more gold to mine. And, Walmart offers something that all the others do not: convenience. Stir in competitive pricing, and you have a 1-2 punch that will find shoppers bringing Fido to the store, and picking their groceries while he gets his nails trimmed and shots updated. It’s also not a whole lot different from dropping off your car for a tire rotation or oil change at Walmart while you do your shopping.

I have to smile, too, because this is something that is so NOT digital, at a time when it seems everything is going that way. It requires you to show up in person, along with your pet. You know. Be in the moment, and interact with other humans. And their pets. You might be able to book appointments and so forth electronically, but you can’t get a rabies shot online or through an app.

But there is a digital side to all of this, and that’s the new subscription service Walmart is rolling out for regular consumables for your pets. Heck, if Amazon will deliver my vitamins each month, there’s no reason Walmart can’t deliver a 46-pound bag of dog food on a similar schedule. Let them do the heavy lifting.

The new pet center will have its own dedicated entrance, which is a wise move, since I’m sure Walmart doesn’t want people and their pets entering the store along with everyone else. It will be staffed by employees of a separate firm, although it will all be branded as Walmart. This also makes sense, because Walmart does not have the types of employees needed to deliver such services.But it sure has the right venue for selling them.

The planned price list for services will also put Walmart in a good place. Vet clinics have had little or no competition in the past, but Walmart is about to shake the fruit off of that tree. With inflationary pressures finding more people, including pet owners, trading down or delaying spending money, this is a strategy that is consistent with Walmart’s overall mission to provide value.

Amid all of the effort to push forward into the future, to incorporate ever more automation, it is refreshing to see that there is still opportunity to make money the old fashioned way. I’m thinking my dog Huck would like this, and if and when we get this service in Canyon, we’ll be there.

Dr “You Want A Treat, Buddy?” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[notsufjanstevensblog]

Chinni. She was our family dog. A black pomeranian. She was a size of a cat when we first bought her. No. Took her away from the locals because they told us chinni was “too harsh”. I was around 12-13? I guess? I’m not sure. Soon chinni was a part of our broken family. Broken on all terms- family, finance, health, a happy home, you name it. Chinni was a hope that we all clinged on to. On our lousy days, our tired sundays, our evenings when all of us were really tired of whatever we spent the day doing, our mornings when mom & dad woke me up to catch that bus right on time and so many other days when life slapped our face to reality. We used to feed chinni 2 biscuits every evening and now that I think of it, maybe it took only 2 of those buiscuits was all that it took for our simple lives with chinni. Ruthless human being I am, I barely spent anytime with her. My mom and younger sister used to pet her so much and I never understood. But I just gave up one day and tried playing with her but it didn’t do me any good. Let me also tell you that i’ve always hated pets. For a person who is very conscious about cleanliness and hygiene, I was very particular about even touching chinni in the beginning. To my favour, chinni was very good and aware about everything around her. She never disturbed me and just sat with me, catching flies in the air. I don’t think it ever caught one- idiot. It used to be very delusional and chew something random on the floor. I always used to shoo it away because you don’t want your mango-eating-sunday-afternoons with chinni! I mean, come on.

Then we all grew up. Times changed. We shifted to a new house. Things were pretty great. I didn’t like the change but just like everyone else, I got used to it. I was admitted in a boarding school. I loved it there. I was a cute church going wanna-be christian girl reading bible and quoting psalms. I used to go back home every sunday to wash my hair and scrub my skin. My mom kept screaming at how tanned by back and my hands or legs were or how my hair keeps falling off in bunches. On a random sunday, I remember this very vividly. On a random sunday, I was sitting there after this very petty argument with my elder sister crying and holding a piece of chicken that my mom cooked everytime we came home from hostel. Chinni came sniffing and I threw it far far away. Chinni brought back the piece in her mouth, un-eaten. I was confused. I wasn’t going to eat that, so i told “chinni, you eat”. And chinni did. I went back home and mom had another one for me. I never really noticed chinni. I just knew she was watching me from under my car or the corner she always occupied in our car garage.

Times changed very rapidly. I was in my 2nd year of college. Dad was hospitalised with acute kidney infection stage 4. Dad sat on the garden wall and spoke to people for hours. Chinni just sat there with him, catching flies in the air. I mean literally that. Dad used to pat chinni a few times and look at the sky. He used to yell at all of us for not feeding chinni and cleaning her. By the end of covid pandemic, our family had gotten a little closer and I couldn’t have asked for more. I loved it. It was mundane and simple. I came to LOVE chinni. Chinni used to come wherever me and mom and my sister used to go to walk. Slowly, wagging its tail, barking at basically nothing. We had a favourite jackfruit tree in our fields where me and mom used to gossip about people closer to us. It was fun. Chinni used to sit there and act as if she knew what we were speaking and I used to just pat chinni and wash hands and legs off of the dust and her hair everytime I returned back home. Chinni was old. Infact, I never knew how old she was.

By now times had severely changed. Dad was diagnosed with covid-19 and had a pulmonary infection with underlying health issues. Chinni kept crying. Perhaps she knew her family wouldn’t be the same anymore. Chinni used to howl. I didn’t think she could do that until that point. My dad kept giving her buiscuits. But how many of them will she need to tune down the thoughts of her not having the same family in a few days and losing one of her best friends? And the world fell apart for chinni. My dad passed away. Now chinni was no one. Nothing. Just another dog. She couldn’t cheer us anymore. She couldn’t smile or eat anymore. Chinni only used to eat food when we had kept it on a plate and left. Chinni never ate food infront of any of us. I saw chinni’s teeth in the garden and I knew chinni was also getting old. I tried to be there for her as much as I could but I was broken enough to an extent to know that it would not be able to fix her. I just used to sit with chinni with a glass of tea in my one hand and phone in the other.

Chinni wanted her dad. To tell her stories telepathically. I could never be her. I could never listen to anyone’s stories in my family without being judgemental. Chinni started getting sadder and sadder. Chinni never came near our house now. It sat there quietly in a garage. It could barely see or bark. I went back to university and everytime I kept waving at her assuming she could see. Only if she were here to know that I would wave at her a million more times. Chinni’s hair was falling off. I never spent time with chinni anymore because she reminded me of the time that my life was at its best. It was a dream, a dream that had already passed. I didn’t want to fight to have it again. Very recently I went to meet chinni and she was fine. I had not talked to her for the past few months. So I fed the leftovers and came back home.

My uncle was very annoyed at the rat that kept roaming in the garage. He threw a big ass stick aiming the rat but chinni got hit. It was horrible. She got hit and her hip broke. Chinni kept crying. I couldn’t take it anymore. I came home and cried my heart out. All of us cried. We could never see chinni again. And 3 days later, chinni had passed away. I wasn’t informed. I went home and took 2 biscuits from the snacks drawer in our kitchen and then my mom told me chinni had passed away. Now that I come to think of it, I only have regrets. I could’ve maybe touched chinni more often. Played with her more often. Fed her her favourite treats. I could’ve done so much more but I’m happy that I atleast have regrets that keep me up at night reminding chinni- the best company I’ll ever have.