#I’m scared what da hell

[freakova]

Me: hmmm maybe lll download stray or do more chaos shuffle

Klowns: my water broke

Just had the biggest jumpscare of my life

[wewontbesleeping]

Ok the mice have gotten so much worse this year. Idk where they’re coming from wtf. The last two years here I think we’d see maybe one or two a winter at most, but the cats have killed multiple this week alone. And I just saw one come out from under furniture to eat some of the cat food and then go back under. Like wtf.

[rebelliousstories]

Magical Relationships

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader, Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader (Platonic)

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by @oh-prettylady

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst

Word Count: 1,466

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: He had spent so long looking for her, only to find that she was closer than ever suspected.

Consider Donating: Here

If there was one thing that Gambit always asked for whenever he could, it would forever be a relationship of his own. He had seen Jean and Scott fall in love, witnessed Beast try himself; hell, everyone he knew had tried. But for some reason, Jean and Scott were the only ones that made it work. But Remy wanted that. He wanted his own lady to call his, to love, and to spoil. When he came back from a mission one day, he got his wish.

A beautiful girl around his age had shown up with the Wolverine. She was shy, only sticking near the burly man, and not speaking to just about anyone. But she was gorgeous, sweet and kind. Her ability to transform into any animal she wished never ceased to amaze Remy when they were in the danger room.

Slowly but surely, she began warming up to the other, but not Gambit. She was still hesitant around him, refusing to say more than a few words to him. It threw the Cajun for a loop the first few times he tried to flirt with her.

“My, my, my, chere. Ya face would look so much prettier up close, ya know? Just close enough for a kiss perhaps.” This caused her to flush red.

“How’s about you and me go and paint the town red tonight, chere?” She turned to Logan for help who kindly told the man she was off limits.

“Oh, I’m feelin’ awfully weak, chere. I hear ya kisses are magic though. How’s about one for ya patient, yeah?” Turning to scamper off was her course of action for this.

Each time he tried to flirt with her, she refused. Maybe he was coming off too strong for her. He knew very little about her backstory when she came to the school. So, Remy decided to switch tactics. He tried to bond with her over something, anything. But they seemed to have very little in common. But he was desperate to have her talk to him in any way they could.

After a few weeks of this, Gambit made very little leeway in his attempt to talk with her. It was not until Logan decided to go off on his own again that he finally got a break. This was not how he wanted it to start, but it was how it happened. Remy had found her staring out of a window towards the road in the school on a day off for them.

“You miss da Wolverine, chere?” He asked quietly. She got a bit spooked, jumping in her seat, and went to leave.

“No, no. I didn’ mean t’ make ya scared. I can leave if ya want.” Holding his hands up, Gambit tried to make himself appear as non threatening as possible to the woman. But what she did next shocked him.

She shook her head, and patted the sot next to her in the window. Waiting, Remy tried to see what exactly she meant, which was met with her patting the spot once more. At her insistence, he made his way over, and slumped down into his seat.

“I just really miss him, you know?” She began, still staring. “He took care of me when I had no one around. It’s hard being without him, not knowing where he is or if he’s alive.”

“Oh, chere. Don’t worry ‘bout it. The Wolverine will come back soon. Besides, I’m pretty sure that man lives purely off of spite, so he be fine.” Remy tried to comfort the girl, but only felt like he was causing her more discomfort.

“You’re right,” she spoke after a brief silence, “Logan will be okay. He’ll come back.” Looking out the window, she looked towards the road once more before turning to the mutant to her right.

“I love your eyes, by the way.” This time, it was Gambit’s turn to be bashful. His face blushed something fierce as he turned away from her. He could only hope that she did not see what was happening to his face, or the smile that appeared on his face.

“You flatter Ol’ Gambit. Ain’t do nothin’ to deserve it.” He stammered out, hoping that she would let it go. But to his fortune, and mis. Fortune, she did not.

Her giggles rang out through the small nook that they were tucked away in, and Gambit turned to face her fully. Even he was not immune to her infectious laughter. Soon, he was joining her in his own deep chuckles that boomed out next to hers. After a few minutes, they began to wind down. And as he looked over at her from across the windowsill, Remy thought something to himself.

This might just work out.

After that night, it was like a flip had been switched. Instead of constantly being shy, and running away from the Cajun, she had begun to enjoy his company. She was enjoying a cup of tea with him in the morning while he made his coffee. In the evenings, she would make a bowl of ice cream for each of them to enjoy in front of the fire in the main study room.

And all through this, they grew closer. Remy’s flirting no longer made her anxious, it excited her. She still had yet to get over her blushing and shyness when he did so, but she was no longer running away which he considered a win in his books. Gambit so badly wanted to properly ask her out; it burned within him. But he had to contend with Logan coming after him.

Oh, he was well aware that the Wolverine would just give him the tough love act, but that did not make it any less intimidating to ask her pseudo-father for permission. It also did not help that the man was currently somewhere that they at the school could not reach him. So for the time being, Gambit was sticking to making her blush like a school girl at every chance he got.

Remy loved the challenge of getting her to blush harder and harder each time. Sometimes, it was the fact that it was in front of the other team members. Other times, it was because of what he had actually said. One particular instance stands out better than the rest.

“Chere, jus’ need t’ ask ya somethin’. Will you Brie mine?” Remy drawled out as he leaned against the counter. Storm, Beast, and Cyclops were sitting at the table nearby and actively listening to what was coming next.

“Don’t you ever get tired of thinking up different pickup lines to use on me?” She teased back, finishing her making of food at the stove.

“Ain’t no trouble to the Gambit if he has t’ think of you. So whatcha say?” There was quiet laughter coming from the table nearby.

“Can I at least have my breakfast first?” Her tone was teasing, even if her words were annoyed.

“Never too early to start the greatest love story ever.”

“Sometimes it is.” The laughing stopped. Gambit stopped in his tracks, and was afraid to turn and face the voice behind him.

“Logan, you’re back!” Her plate was quickly abandoned in favor for wrapping her arms around his neck. His own found a home wrapped around her back before they pulled away.

“Missed me, kid?” A smirk toyed at the edge of his lips.

“Maybe a little.” She admitted; a smile of her own forming on her lips.

“Now, what was this I hear about you wanting to ask the kid out, Cajun?” Logan near growled in his low-rumbling voice.

“Now, Mon Ami, jus’ remember is just Gambit.” He stammered out, holding his hands up defensively. The Wolverine placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to stop what he was saying immediately.

“Treat her right, or you’re turning into a kebab. I’m going to unpack and go to bed.” Passing the girl on his way back to his room, Logan gave her one last pat on the shoulder and left. There was a stunned silence that enveloped the entire room as everyone tried to process the events that had just unfolded.

“So, Remy,” she began with a teasing tone, “something you wanna ask me?”

He could not speak. The smooth talking Cajun was speechless after that interaction. But once he began to recover, a smirk overtook his rugged features. He walked up closer to the woman and placed a hand back on the counter.

“Will you go out with me, chere?” Remy finally asked her.

“Of course, Gambit. Besides, I have a man waiting to turn you into a kebab if you mess up.” She began to laugh, but the color started drawing from his face once more.

[tootiecakes234]

Dad Katsuki and implied black reader (but open to everyone)

Katsuki Bakugo is good at almost everything he tries. A lot comes naturally but if not, he puts in minimal effort and then ends up exceeding.

But the one thing…… the one thing that he can’t wrap his head around is styling hair. Obvi, you have seen the way he tries to “style” his own hair.

He’d tried to help you with yours before but he couldn’t even figure out how to get the lumps out of a ponytail. He gave up after about 30 minutes of trying and never offered to help you with it again.

But of course you guys had gotten pregnant and had not one but two little girls.

One day you’re sick and there’s no way you’re about to get up and try and get those little gremlins ready for school.

“Don’t worry about it. I got time before I gotta head out. I got em.” He groans after the alarm goes off for you to wake up.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly because no one was screaming or crying. You eventually drift back to sleep.

Until… “ Noooooo!” And it scares you awake. That sounds like your oldest daughter. “ ‘m not going to school like this! Other kids will make fun of me!”

You fumble out of bed and start heading towards the child screaming bloody murder.

“Ya look fine. Anyone picks on you and I’ll kick their ass.” Katsuki says back to her.

Then all you hear from your youngest child is “Ass, Ass, Ass! Daddy said Ass.” And her giggles following after. The child is a menace to any situation.

When you finally get to the door you completely understand the situation.

Your baby girl is sporting “pigtails” that are uneven and crooked, and your oldest has what looks like chunky plats in her hair. They both look a hot ass mess.

“Both of you be quite! Your mom is trying to sleep! And you, stop saying ass. It’s a bad word.” He shouts loudly back at them.

“Daddy look at this! I look awful. Please don’t make me go to school like this.” Then the tears start falling and you finally make your presence known.

“Ok, ok.” It comes out all scratchy. “Everyone calm down.”

The youngest runs up to you and squeezes you leg, “mama, daddy’s gonna kick ass”

You pick her up and further examine the horrific job your husband made to her hair. “Oh yea?” And your brow lifts towards Kats because you’ve told him over and over to stop cussing in front of your kids.

“Mhmm” and she nods her head.

“Mom! Look at what dad did to my hair!?! I can’t go to school like this. Please fix it.” And she runs over to you with pleading eyes.

“Your mom is sick and your hair is fine. Now cut it out and get dressed.

“Da-“ but you cut her off.

“Katsuki this is not fine. It’d be a form of torture to send them to school like this. Come on sweet girls. I’ll fix it really quickly so you’re not late.”, you mumble and start taking them both to the bathroom.

“Are ya serious? It doesn’t look that bad.” At this point you think he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“They look a mess Kats. Not sending my kids to school lookin like they aren’t loved.” And both your daughters start giggling at that.

“What the hell ever. I’m gonna go pack their lunches.”, and he stomps off toward the kitchen.

It takes you about 15 minutes to get them both done. You have a little extra time so you throw some cute bows and accessories in there just to show him what a cute hairstyle actually looks like.

“Ok whaddya guys think”, you ask them

“I’m cute” the younger one says and she’s playing with her hair.

“It’s a lot better. Thanks mom.”

You help them finish getting ready and then shuffle them in the kitchen.

“Daddy, mommy fixed your hot ass mess” your older daughter says as she sits at the table to eat breakfast.

Katsuki stands there with his mouth agape. “What the hell did you just say?”

And everyone burst out laughing.

“Don’t be mad. Momma said I could say it.” She says with a huge smile on her face.

“Just the one time. Cuz (youngest daughter name) got to cuss cuz of you this morning.”

“Haha…. This whole family is freakin hilarious.”, he grunts and serves them their breakfast.

While their eating Katsuki walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. “You think you’re better than me hah?”

“At doing hair… 1000%. At being the strongest, sexiest dad?? Never.”, you say and grin up at him all cheeky.

“You’re so annoying. Take your ass to bed you look exhausted.”

Next thing you hear is “Ass to bed. Take ass to bed” being sung at this top of the little one’s lungs.

You just know you’re gonna get a call from her school today and it’s all Katsuki’s fault.

Katsuki Masterlist

[brandwhorestarscream]

part 4? can we get a part 4? holy fuck

i love these stupid pregnant robots . what da hell

big dad alpha trion also just Y_Y is so good.... what an utter papa bear

Here we go anon, as requested! I love stupid pregnant robots too uwu

Previous parts are here: part 1, part 2, part 3

And yes I agree, Alpha Trion is such a big cuddly papa bear 🥺 I'm so glad you see my vision. Anyway, without further ado, please enjoy part 4.

...

“You…” he takes a shaky invent. “Y-You really… wouldn’t mind?” Orion nods in affirmation, and Dee gives his first, weak little smile in days. “Ok,” it comes out in a whispered rush. “Alright… y-yeah, ok… let’s- l-let’s do it.”

It’s a small comfort that the cave is spacious, with many side caverns and walls to duck behind for privacy. Dee can’t stand the idea of anyone else seeing, of being on display. He doesn’t want anyone else to see him, nor does he want to see anyone else… no one but Orion.

They’re both nervous, and unsure of what to do. They sit side by side in a cozy, private little alcove away from the others, side by side with shoulders pressed together and EM fields mingling gently.

Beside him, Orion is warm. An ever comforting presence.

D-16 swallows, and inches his fingers over toward Pax. Their digits brush and he flinches minutely but Orion isn’t bothered. He turns his servo over, pressing the back of his digits into the dirt, leaving his palm open and waiting. Dee slowly, carefully, sliding his hand into his, fingers curling together to hold each other gently.

“...I’m scared.” he admits in a tiny, croaking voice, and Orion squeezes his hand.

“I know,” he leans over to lay his helm on the silver mech’s shoulder. “I am too.”

“How…” Dee shifts his weight. “How do we… I mean-” he covers his face, embarrassed. “H-How should we… start…?”

This is unexplored territory for both of them. They’d never interfaced with anyone properly. They’d never been taught how. And after everything with Sentinel, well… they’re both worried.

Orion looks up at him, optics twinkling. He offers a shaky smile. “Well, uh… i-in the books, we- we would, um-!” he lets out a sudden, anxious sound almost like a breathless laugh. Heat gushes out of his vents and he startles, beginning to stammer. “I- I mean, it’s just- you know, in- in the books we’d- ah, s-sorry, I- hehe…!”

It’s rare to see Orion so flustered he can’t get his words out, and Dee’s spark warms in his chassis.

“In the books, we‘d…?” he jostles his shoulder as Orion’s face visibly discolors in flushed embarrassment. “What? We’d… kiss each other?”

“Y- Yeah!” his best friend’s optics are darting around, looking at anything but him. “That. Can I…? I mean, i-if you’re ok with it?”

When Dee nods, Orion sits up, wringing his servos nervously before leaning forward, reaching out to him. His servo delicately cups one silver cheek, thumb brushing over the soft, beautiful expanse of his face, and his optics soften. A gooey smile spreads on his face, and Dee squirms as his sparkpulse quickens. Orion’s never… looked at him quite like that before. “I’m,” Orion looks just as nervous as he feels. “G-Gonna… kiss you, now. Ok?”

Again, Dee nods, wholly trusting, and lets his optics fall closed, face slack and lips slightly parting in preparation.

Their first kiss is soft, and clumsy, and a bubbling, flying euphoria erupts in his chest with such intensity he actually reels back. D-16’s optics fly open wide when Orion’s mouth connects with his, and it’s every bit as wonderful and magical as he always dreamt it would be. Jazz had once described it as having a nest of scraplets in your tummy, which sounded wholly unenjoyable, but now that he’s living it? He feels like he’s floating: it’s like gravity has released it’s chains on him and he’s free of the shackles. The joy and contentment, the love, that springs forth in his core at that one, simple act is indescribable.

They separate and Orion’s optics flutter: he feels it too, the rising excitement, the rush of emotion; his face splits into a beaming smile and he starts giggling, before grabbing Dee’s face in both hands and kissing him again. Not forceful, just excited, and Dee can feel the way delighted laughter makes his frame tremble. Despite himself, he starts laughing too, and kisses him back, bringing his arms up to clumsily wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

They tumble into the dirt together, giggling and holding onto each other. They're clumsy and inexperienced, and sometimes the kisses are even downright sloppy, but they're both happier than they've been in awhile just to be there with each other. Hands running over each other's bodies, stroking at seams and shyly looking for sensitive spots, they work at steadily building charge as one.

It's not long before Dee is squirming: his insides feel warm and gooey, and there's a throbbing, hungry sensation deep down in his core. His valve feels wet and slippery, his spike feels tight inside it's housing, and they're both pulsing with the desire to be touched.

His interface panel retracts with a soft click, and Orion kisses his neck. “...are you nervous?” The blue mech asks, and D-16 can feel the warm gush of air from his vents.

“...yeah,” he shivers and curls closer to Orion, snaking one leg between his. “But… I wanna do this. I,” he swallows. “I'm ready.”

A blue servo gently cups his face, and Orion gives him the gentlest, softest kiss that makes his spark stutter in his chassis. A punch of heat rolls into his belly, and D-16 whimpers, needy.

With great care, Orion sits up as Dee lays out on his back. He slides his hands up thick silver thighs, intently watching his friend’s face for any sign of discomfort. There is none, and rather, he tries to wiggle closer. Orion gently parts his thighs, maneuvering himself between them, taking a moment to admire D-16’s bared array. He's beautiful, chubby spike bobbing in the air with every shallow inhale and exhale, pulsing softly with yellow biolights, a drop of pearlescent, glowing fluid gathering at the tip and growing larger with each breath. His valve is even cuter, lips round and plush to protect his most intimate area, already visibly wet, pink lubrication collecting like dewdrops all along the rim. He trembles under Orion's gaze, cheeks discolored as he mumbles, “Hey, c-c'mon, don't stare…”

“Sorry-” Orion sounds breathless, struggling to pull his optics away to look up at his face. “I'm sorry, you're just-” his glossa darts out to moisten his derma. “P-Pretty.”

Dee's vocalizer makes an embarrassed squeaking noise, and he covers his face, a bright but undeniably flustered smile spreading on his face. He giggles behind his fingers, and Orion can't help but snicker along with him, leaning down to kiss his forehelm. Pulling back, he rubs his thighs a few more times before delicately moving his servos toward the bared interface array. His fingers just barely brush the other mech's spike, and D-16 gasps, hips jumping. Fluid dribbles down his spike, and his biolights flash fever bright.

“Sorry-!” He's biting one finger, looking down at himself with wide optics. His fans have kicked on full blast. “S- Sensitive!”

Orion smiles, and lowers himself down, sliding into the dirt so he's laying on his belly between his legs. He's never done this before–except for with Sentinel, and that did not count–but he'd read plenty of explicit novels, and in those, starting off with oral was always a safe option. He wraps both servos around Dee's spike, exhaling a breath over it and smiling at the way his hips jerk again. He kisses the tip of his spike then sucks it into his mouth: above him, D-16 helm drops back and he moans up the ceiling above. He tastes salty, and sweet, and Orion hums to himself as he works it to the back of his mouth, glossa swirling around the length to wet it and aid the slide. Dee swiftly unravels, every vent paired with a wheezy moan as Orion works him over.

When the head of his spike bumps the back of his mouth, Orion pulls back, till only the tip is between his lips. He suckles at it, swirling his glossa around the tip, before sucking it back down in. Dee thrashes, hips stuttering and trying to roll into the sensation: Orion sets a pace as well as he can, bobbing his helm up and down, sucking and licking like he's one of those cold, dissolvable treats Ratchet sometimes gives them when they inevitably overheat during the hot season.

“Pax, Pax!” D-16 is swiftly coming undone, servos clawing at the ground, vents fast and shallow as he tries to warn him, “I'm gonna- gonna-!”

He overloads with a wail of Orion's name, a warbling affair that tapers off into wordless moaning. His spike swells in Orion’s mouth and hot fluid gushes onto his tongue, smoky-sweet and nearly scalding. He chokes in surprise, a trickle of it splashing over his bottom lip, but he swiftly gulps the rest down, swallowing more on reflex than anything. It tastes good, he realizes, pulling back to let the spent spike ease out of his mouth. He licks his lips, wiping one hand over his chin to clean up the mess; his glossa is already halfway through licking up the transfluid on his fingers before he even realizes it. 

D-16 looks incredibly relaxed, splayed out on his back and twitching softly, mouth open and panting, optics flickering as he stares up at the ceiling.

“...was it good?” Orion asks hesitantly, hoping he did alright.

Dee responds with a noncommittal noise and a shaky thumbs up. Orion preens, feeling proud of himself. While his partner is still cycling his vents and coming down from the high, Orion sits up again. His interface retracts with an audible ‘schlkk!’ and D-16 twitches.

“Sorry-” Orion tries to stuff his spike back away, but it's uncooperative, straining and hard despite his forceful pushing. Dee’s dazed optics are fixed on him, blinking sleepily. “S-Sorry, it's ok, we can wait, w-we don't have to if you're not ready yet-”

One silver leg lifts and clumsily wraps around him, trying to pull him closer. “‘m ready,” he murmurs, sounding dazed as he reaches both arms out toward Orion. “Please, Pax… I'm ready.” The smile on his face is fragile, but so deep and genuine it makes Orion’s spark feel gooey. “I wanna… do it with you. Touch me… please?”

And there his spark goes, swelling with such tender, affectionate emotion it could only be love. He nods, throat suddenly feeling tight. “Kay- O-Ok!”

He inches closer, hands sliding over his thighs to grab Dee-16 by the hips, pulling him close. He can feel the heat radiating from between his partner's legs, and it makes his spike throb desperately. It's a bit awkward, trying to line up with his valve, and after two unsuccessful attempts he dips his helm, cheeks feeling hot, wrapping one servo around his spike and nearly yelping at the sensation. Primus, he's sensitive! He guides the tip of his spike to the lips of Dee’s valve, and just bumping against the warm, wet entrance has him clenching his denta and willing himself not to overload already.

Beneath him, Dee whimpers, and he catches a glance of his expression. His optics are wide and round, something frightened at the edge of his expression, as if bracing for impact, and Orion knows he's unwillingly thinking about Sentinel.

“...hey,” he uses his free hand to take one of Dee's, tangling their fingers together and squeezing. He pulls his hand up to kiss, nuzzling the back with his nose. “It's ok. It's just the two of us, he can't get you. It's just us.”

D-16 sobs, and Orion leans down to kiss his forehelm. Dee let's go of his hand, instead winding both arms around his neck. “I know,” his expression is watery. “Y-You're not him. You're not,” he presses his face into the underside of Orion’s neck. He takes several deep vents, then says, “...ok. I'm- I'm ready now. You can, um-” he squeaks in embarrassment, unable to voice their word. “G-Go ahead.”

Orion's spike breaches the rim of his valve, and the silver mech keens. Both legs tense on either side of his partner, and his arms tighten around him. Orion sinks in slowly, as slow as he possibly can, gently pushing his spike further and further in. There's little resistance or friction, but it's still an incredibly tight fit. Dee’s valve flutters around him, slippery and warm, and he bites his glossa. Don't cum yet, don't cum yet, don't cum yet-!

Beneath him, D-16 whimpers, and his lips begin pressing clumsy kisses to his neck. Over two sensitive neck cables, then his glossa ghosts over a very particular nerve cluster, and Orion breaks. Overload rockets through him like a surge of electricity and he crumples forward onto his partner, pressing him into the cave floor, spike twitching and suddenly letting off a burst of transfluid before he's even fully sheathed inside his valve. Orion moans and tries to stop it, but he's helpless, hips stuttering in mini thrusts as he spills his load.

“Pax-”

“I'msorry-” he lets out in a rush as he finishes, shame burning at his audials. “I'm so sorry, I- I didn't mean-”

Beneath him, D-16 snorts, to his dismay, then starts laughing. His EM field suddenly flares to life; where it had previously been tucked in and nervous, suddenly it's warm and relaxed and happy.

“Aww, Pax,” Dee gently lifts his helm, optics warm and smile loving, contrasted by Orion's embarrassed pout. All the previous tension has bled out of his frame, and he brings his servos down to gently cradle his partner's face. He kisses the tip of his nose. “S'ok. Really. Don't be upset!”

Orion's brow furrows, cheeks puffing out as he averts his optics. “S'not funny.”

“It's cute,” D-16 insist, before pulling his face close to kiss him. He feels better now, honestly, so much more comfortable. Orion has no experience, same as him. They're figuring it out together, they've not had a chance to build their skills. It's comforting, honestly, knowing that they're stumbling into uncharted territory together. It makes him feel safe. Like an equal. The kiss deepens after a moment, Dee's glossa rubbing at his bottom lip and into his mouth–only to recoil, sputtering. “Primus!” he coughs at Orion's confused look. “Is that what I taste like?!”

“Pfffft-!” That breaks Orion's self-conscious cloud, and suddenly he's laughing, too. “I mean… yeah?”

“Augh!” Dee shakes his helm, sticking his glossa out. “Gross!”

“I liked it.” an impish smirk spreads on Orion’s face, and he moves to kiss him again, but Dee blocks his mouth with one hand.

“No!” He yelps, snickering. “You are not kissing me like that, not til you wash your mouth out!”

“Fiiiine,” he pops an energon cube out of storage, chewing it as fast as he can to freshen his breath. “Better?”

Dee kisses him again, nodding. “Much.” He gently wiggles in place, and a half-moan tumbles out of his lips. Orion's spike is still buried deep inside him, still hard, still throbbing against sensitive nerve clusters. His valve tightens around him, trying to pull him in, and Orion whimpers.

D-16 reclines back against the floor, pulling Orion with him. Their hands entwine, lips tangling together. Their first time interfacing is clumsy, gentle, and rife with overwhelming love and trust. Embracing in the cavern, they make love to each other for the first time, EM fields blending as one and sparks singing in euphoria between them. Pleasure builds between them to a great, soaring crescendo, and they cling to each other, sobbing in ecstasy when imminent overload swallows them both.

D-16 clings to Orion in all aspects: chest to chest, mouth to mouth, fingers grasping tightly to him as his legs lock around his hips, keeping his spike buried deep in his valve. He feels overstimulated in the best way, electric pleasure thrumming through his whole body and he sobs in ecstasy through his first and second and third overload. He can feel Orion’s transfluid filling him up, siphoned into his gestation tank. The transfluid levels creep from red to yellow to green, and his middle begins to feel heavy and warm and full. He imagines the sparkling growing inside of him, body grown from the seeds of a mech he loves and adores so much. An adorable child with his and Orion's features alike, perhaps with his lover’s crooked smile or his little helm horns or the shape of his optics, and the thought is so enticing a fourth overload rolls through his body. All he can do is hang on and moan, trying not to drool.

By the time his gestation tank is topped up, they're both sweaty, sticky, and swollen: Orion collapses on top of him, vents heaving great clouds of steam as D-16 pants and gasps beneath him.

The blue mech rolls off and then, with a final heave of strength, switches their positions. Orion laying in the dirt with D-16 half on top of him. Gazing at each other, dazed, the tips of their noses touch. Orion cracks an exhausted, barely there smile, and Dee returns it, using his last bit of energy to move his head forward, pressing their forehelms together.

“I love you…”

The murmured declaration comes as they snuggle against each other, afterglow lulling them to recharge. It’s like being surrounded in the warm glow of a lantern, cuddled together like that: he’s never felt quite so warm or safe or loved, and laying his helm down on Orion’s chassis, he truly feels that everything will be alright. So long as they have each other, so long as he can bask in this connection forever, nothing could ever be unfixable or impossible. Orion’s arms come up to hold him, one servo bracing gently on his belly, and D-16 turns his helm to press a sleepy kiss against his chassis.

They’re going to be ok.

...

And that's a wrap on part 4! Sorry it took a bit longer than anticipated, I really wanted to nail these two in this scene. Awkward, sweet first-time sex gave me more trouble than I thought it would. I'm out of practice lmao.

Aaaaaanyways, I hope you enjoyed! Same thing as always, I'll get started on part 5 and post it once ya'll lmk you wanna see more. Beat the crap out of my ask box, do the rebloggy thing, comment, you know what to do!

[mollycabot]

Casey Novak X Reader Scary Novak

A/N when Casey’s girlfriend is being harassed by a fellow court officer Casey puts a quick stop to it

As Casey was tied up with court work and very busy she asked her girlfriend to pick them up some lunch and swing by her office.

Once Y/N got that text she made her way over to her and Casey’s favourite coffee shop and brought her and Casey’s usual and then made her way to the DA’s office.

“Good morning miss Y/N ” one of the passing officers said and Y/N waved, though she wasn’t an Ada herself she was still well know because of Casey.

“Why hello beautiful” other court officer said this caught Y/N off guard. “Please just call me Y/N”.

“Why your to much of a beauty to be a lesbian let me show you how women should be treated”. The officer said giving Y/N the creeps.

“I asked you to stop please I don’t like this and if Casey finds out she not going to be very pleased and and” Y/N said as the officer pushed her against the wall. Making Y/N. Became scared and began to try to fight him off but she was weaker than him.

Just before he was about to force a kiss he stopped when a voice behind him had a hint of anger.

“Get off her officer mat now” Casey demanded folding her arms. “Yes senior ads Novak” the officer said scared.

“Now giving that you have sexual harassed my girlfriend I’m going to report you because this behaviour is unacceptable” Casey said walking closers

“Is this the reason you been avoiding the office my love” Casey asked and Y/N nodded. “Well then I know exactly what my report is going to say I heard all about you mister” Casey said.

Casey then grabbed the guy by his collar and pushed him an against the wall.

“i swear im going to make your life a living hell for this now you are going to say sorry to Y/N and I don’t want to near her ever again you got it”.

The officer nodded and Casey let him go watch as he ran off like a scared little kid. “Love go wait in my office I’m to go see Liz” Casey said Y/N nodded.

Casey knocked on Liz’s door and once she got the ok to come in she made her way inside.

“Hey Casey what can I do for you today?” Liz said as Casey sat down. “You know Y/N” Liz nodded. “

“Well this past few months she hasn’t been stopping by my office and always tried to avoid it when she can and I found out just this week she been harassed by one of our court officers and today I just watch him almost force himself on her and I want him fired” Casey demanded.

“I’m guessing his name is officer mat?” Liz asked and Casey nodded

“this isn’t the first time he’s been reported for this short of stuff” Liz explained and me and a few other judges have talked about getting him fired and I think this is it because we given him second chances. So I will bring this up and I can say that he will most likely be suspended at least leave it with me” Casey nodded and walked back to her office.

“Hey love” casey said waking into her office. “Hey” Y/N said sitting quietly closing her book. “I spoke to Liz and she going to bring it up and he’s going to be told” Casey explained and Y/N nodded and gave Casey a hug.

“No one is allowed to harass my Y/N and I will make sure he suffers” Casey said hugging her back.

“What would I do without you Casey Love you so much” Y/N Said. Casey kiss Y/N on the forehead and said. “I love you more Y/N and I will always be here for you”. Casey said lovingly.

[dancingpottedplant666]

So you know how Tf2 takes place in New Mexico? Well I’m an animal lover, and I know that there are tons of fantastic creatures there and I’m sure there are a bunch of them they would 100% be hanging around the nooks and crannies of RED team’s base. So I present to Ye:

Scenarios about how our beloved mercs and an animal-loving reader handle an encounter with New Mexico’s amazing fauna. 

Part 1 here!

Part 2: Defense

Demoman and the Swallowtail Butterflies 

It was mid morning during a ceasefire and all of the mercs were valuing their time away from the battlefield to the best of their abilities, and of course, Demo was last seen with two bottles of his beloved scrumpy as he headed outside to most likely, get drunk and pass out.

Two hours later, the heat was getting a bit too intense for anyone to be outside for too long, drunk or not. 

You decided it was best to try and find the team’s bomb expert before he burnt to a crisp. Grabbing a glass of cold, ice water and a wet towel just in case, you headed outside.

After a good fifteen minutes of searching around the base, you heard a familiar sound of snoring from the corner of a building. 

However, when you got there, the sight you saw made you let out a giggle.

A passed out Demoman covered in Swallowtail butterflies. 

They must’ve smelled the his sweat and decided it was a good place to rest. All of them resting on his face and hands, opening and closing their wings every once in a while. 

Although, as cute as this was, you did need to wake him up.

“Demo, Hey Demoman, can you hear me?”

You raised your voice a bit, hoping not to startle the small insects.

“DEMOMAN!”

“Uuuuaugggg Whah? What te hell?”

As he stirred awake, some of the butterflies startled a bit and then gently fluttered back on to his face, not seeming to care that their rest stop had woken up. 

Demo froze, you could tell he wasn’t exactly sure what to do in the situation he found himself in.

“ah, um what te…what in te *hic* is happenin”

“uh, heh, I think you fell asleep and your new friends decided to have a pit stop”

“Aaaye” Demo carefully lifts a scarred hand, trying not to scare the swallowtails. 

After stirring a bit, one flies up to rest on his palm.

“Ahhh ffeel like a bloody princess”

You gave a light chuckle, but then you remembered why you came out here in the first place. 

“Hey Demo, it’s getting a little bit too hot out here, we can’t have our Demolitions Expert die from heat exhaustion”

“mm, I suppose you’re right, I deserve to die in a blaze o’ glory don’t I?”

“Damn right” 

You hold out a hand that Demo took, and with one good hoist, the butterflies fluttered of Demo as he stood up, the both of you mesmerized as they fluttered around and up into the sky.

“you ok? You’ve been been out here for a while”

“Aye, dunne worry, I’ve handled worse, by te wae, what were those butterflies?”

“Swallowtails, you can tell by the extra long bits on the ends of their wings, I’m assuming you’re sweat attracted the swarm”

“mah sweat? I thought they onleh ate flowers.”

“nope, sweat, tears and even blood is on the menu for them”

“wot? Tha is bloody brilliant”

“I know right?”

Once you two where inside, you both sigh in unison as the air conditioner hits your skin.

Heavy and the Javelina 

It was late in the afternoon at the base, RED triumphed over BLU, as usual. Despite that, the men never got tired of celebrating their victories, and still drank and shouted to commemorate their win.

Although they can get a little too loud sometimes, so you decided to hangout outside to enjoy the silence and the cool night air. 

After a while, footsteps alerted to you to someone else approaching. 

You turned to be greeted by the heavy weapons man himself. He carried a plate with sandviches piled on top.

“Oh, hey Heavy! Come to relax in the night air too?”

“Da, is too noisy for Heavy’s liking, I sit outside to eat”

“Yeah, guess everybody needs a break from the chaos huh?”

He hummed in agreement as he ate his dinner next to you in relative silence.

Until a squealing noise caused both of you to lift up your heads in confusion

“What was noise?”

“I’m actually not quite sure” 

“It sounds like pig, but no pigs here, right?”

“Huh, you actually might be on to something Heavy” your head scans the area for any movement.

You turn to see him get up from his seat, walk over a few feet, and bend over a shaded area. 

“Heavy has found hairy pig”

“Hairy pig? Wait, What?”

“Hairy pig”

His huge hand ventures under the shade and pulls out a small, squirming, pig-like creature.

“No way! It’s a baby javelina!”

He looks at you with slight confusion as he looks at the grunting baby quizzically.

“Is baby? Where is mother?”

“It must’ve gotten separated from its group, I’m sure we can still find them”

You looked around, wondering if the family could still be nearby.

 As if to answer your question, you found a group of six javelinas, all gorging themselves on the sandviches heavy left behind.

“Ah, there is mother, and rest of family” 

Heavy bends over and lets the squealing baby skitter over to its family.

“Leetle baby may eat with family. Heavy can always make more sandvich”

You and Heavy stood and watched the family eat in relative silence, being careful not to disturb them. Eventually, the family left and walked off. 

After a while, you two found yourselves sitting back where you were.

“You know what hairy pigs were, yes?” 

“Uh, yeah! Javelinas”

“Hm, tell Heavy more about Javelinas”

“Oh, okay! Well, did you know that baby javelinas are called “reds” 

due to the reddish coloration of their fur? They use that to hide from predators looking for an easy meal”

Heavy’s eyes widen. 

“What predators?”

“Oh tons” you counted on your fingers “pumas, bobcats, coyotes, and even desert hawks will try and snatch a baby if their lucky”

“Hm, very dangerous for hairy pigs, yes?” 

“Oh yeah, but don’t think their helpless, they can run up to 35 miles per hour and if that doesn’t work, they have tusks and inch long they can use to clack to together to make threatening sounds or lacerate an imposing threat”

“Hm, leetle pigs know how to survive, Heavy respects that”

You continue talking into the night until you part your ways to head to bed. 

However Heavy will always remember that night where he met the family of hairy pigs.

Engineer and the Armadillo 

It was a calm morning during a ceasefire and today your body decided to get up earlier than usual.

4 AM to be exact (thanks internal clock). 

Knowing that there was no point in going back to sleep, you decided to bring a cup of coffee and some apple slices to your favorite Texan.

You already had a gut feeling that he wouldn’t be in his quarters, so you headed for the garage. 

After giving a quick knock, you heard clattering and a groggy voice respond.

“Ah, innna’ minute!” 

You internally cringed when when he opened the door.

He had bags under his eyes and motor oil and a mix of other gunk was evenly distributed across his entire body. 

In short, he looked like a total mess.

“Hey Engie, pulled another all-nighter ey?”

He gave an exhausted sigh but then lightly chuckled.

“Heh, ya know it, but ahm’ not sure if I should be happy or a lil’ upset that you’re startin’ ta figure out mah’ unhealthy habits”

He turns to the side, letting you in.

“Either way ahm’ impressed”

“Aw shucks Engie, you’re to kind”

You gave a joking swat at his comment but then set down the fruit and coffee.

“I hope I remembered what you liked in your coffee”

You see the slight widening of his smile as you offered him the caffeinated beverage.

He took it and gave it a few chugs, much to your surprise.

“Ah, perfect way to start ma’ mornin!”

You gave a laugh as he continued to chug the drink, gazing at the cluttered up garage.

Bits of machinery were thrown about everywhere, most of it being deconstructed sentries.

“So, whatcha ya been working on?”

Engineer looked around at the parts, using his non-gloved hand to munch on an apple slice.

“Eh, been tinkerin’ mostly, trying to boost efficiency and practicality”

He strolls over to one of his blueprints, eying it like it just insulted his mother.

“But as per usual, nothin’ but dead ends and another sleepless night”

Your next sympathetic words were cut off when the sound of a falling pile of metal stole both your attentions. 

“Dammit, ah just sorted those!”

The angry hard hat stormed over to the pile, ready to cuss it out, but he suddenly froze.

“Engie? You ok?”

“How the hell did ya get in here?”

You walked over to him and saw what he was talking to, and was met with an odd discovery.

A Nine-Banded armadillo huddled in a corner.

“Ah! Engie you have a friend!”

He let out a hearty laugh and put his hands on his hips.

“That ah do! But, he’s the last thing ah want in mah garage”

He went moved to pick it up but you quickly stopped him.

“Wait! Nine-banded armadillo are known to carry leprosy! It’s best to do it with both your hand gloved!”

“Ah, right, beats gettin’ a trip to Medic’s”

He hastily rummaged around for another glove as you grabbed the apple slices that were left.

When he came back, he used his now, fully gloved, hands to hurriedly wrangle and grab the armored visitor.

“There we go ya lil’ stinker! Huh, must’ve got in when ah left the garage door open for some air”

As he held it out by the rim of its shell, you got a better look at the calmed beast.

“Wow, it’s beautiful! I’ve never seen one this close…”

Engineer gave a light grin as you fawned over the armadillo and he gently rubbed its shell.

“Heh, I remember these guys from back home. Saw em’ all over Texas but never really looked into em’”

Your eyes lit up at this.

“Of course! They’re all over Texas and in the southern half of the country, but they can be found as far north as the Missouri and Iowa state line!”

You offered the Armadillo an apple slice and it began to nibble the fruit.

“Well ah’ll be darned! You do know a lot about your critters.”

You continued to state little facts about the animal as he walked it outside and far enough away so it won’t get the idea of coming back.   

“Did you know that they can swim and hold their breath for six minutes? Oh! And that sum guy tried to shoot one but its armor managed to ricochet the bullet into its face?!”

All the while, Engie was beaming like the morning sun.

Not only did you make his all nighter seem worth it, but it also helped him get some new ideas for his machines. 

***

Ah! This turned out so well! Sorry it took awhile! Should I do part 3?

[kentoslover69]

LOSING A BET | TOJI, HIROMI & SHIU

summary: reader loses a bet and has to pay the price, however she didn’t have enough money to pay them. Thus they find a way to make her pay using her body.

“Well? Where’s da money at?” Toji raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, shiu and hiromi sat on opposite sides of the couch. Hiromi’s face on his hand as they all shared a bored expression. You swallowed the lump in your throat, you felt so uneasy knowing you were the main spotlight right now. They looked like hungry wolves staring at their dinner. Fuck, it was so intimidating that it aroused you. Pressing your thighs together slightly as you looked down on your lap. Unable to tell them the truth. You cleared your throat before finally speaking up “I’m sorry sir.. I don’t have the money yet..” you said very quietly. Toji scoffs and shakes his head, a loud sigh escaping shiu’s mouth. Hiromi rolled his eyes and finally lifted his head to observe her state. He took note of how scared you looked. “And what do you expect us to do? Extend another week?” He says. Suddenly Toji slams his hand on the coffee table making a loud noise, enough to draw everyone’s attention. “Listen here ya fucking brat, you better find a way to pay us today or your dead.” He clenches his jaw. He sounded serious as hell, shiu pats toji’s back lightly before speaking “calm down old man, your scaring the poor girl” he chuckles. You were too scared to even form a word, you just sat there and fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. “I-im sorry..I promise I’ll find a way! I’ll do anything!” you rose from your seat and got on your knees infront of them. They all seemed shocked at her sudden actions. Toji grasps her face roughly and held on tightly. “Anything?” He repeats and smirks. You nodded frantically. “Really?” Hiromi tilts his head to the side while shiu grins. They all had the same idea. “Yes! Anything!” You exclaimed. Toji let’s go of your face and crosses his arms again. “Strip off your clothes then.” Shiu whispers lowly. Your eyes widen in surprise, it took you a couple of seconds to process what he had just said. “Well?” You can practically feel them getting impatient and you start to pathetically unbutton your top, revealing the black laced bra you wore. You shrugged off your blouse. Waiting for their next orders. Toji licked his lips, there was a noticeable buldge growing in hiromi’s pants already. “These too.” He lets his finger slide under the bra strap and snaps it. Quickly you reached behind you and undid your bra. Letting it fall to the ground. Your breast was now exposed to the men infront of you. Your face flushed red in embarrassment. “Hmm…what shall we do with her?” Hiromi asks, turning to look at Toji and shiu. Toji smirks and pats his lap. “Come here.” You slowly crawled towards where Toji was sitting and climbed on his lap, bending you over in all fours. He rubs slow circles on your ass and gropes them before yanking your skirt and panties off. “I think this brat needs a lil spankin’. What’dya guys say?” He grins. The two men nod in agreement as they watched. SMACK! before you could react he already smacked his large hands on your bare ass. Causing you to jolt in pain. they watched in amusement, hiromi started to undo his belt and handed it over to Toji. “Use this.” How cruel they were. They seemed to enjoy all this. Toji grabs it from him and bends the belt in half, ghosting it over your ass before smacking it again. You moan out in pain and gripped on the couch. “Start countin’ slut.��� Toji growls, smacking the belt on your ass again. “O-one!” Shiu stood up from his seat and grabs your face, his lips crashing against yours forcefully. Toji massages your ass before hitting it again. “Two!” You say in between the heated kisses shiu was giving you. And after what felt like forever , Toji smacks your ass one more time. “Three..” Shiu pulls away from the kiss and puts two of his finger inside her warm mouth before spitting on it. “Swallow it.” He ordered, closing her mouth. You swallowed hard and looked up at him with doe eyes. Hiromi’s pants were now on the floor as he fisted himself. Leaning his pink tip on your cheek as he jerks off, Grunting at how innocent you looked. “Dirty little whore.” He scowls.

He lets go of his cock as you wrap your hand around it. Jerking it off in a steady pace and sticking out your tongue to lick at the tip. He hisses and grabs onto your hair tightly. Toji got off the couch and shiu replaces his position but this time he lays down on the couch and lets your bare pussy sit on his face. Grabbing your hips and teasing your folds with his skilled tongue. You let out a soft moan, sending vibrations to hiromi’s cock causing him to grunt. Shiu’s tongue drew circles around your clit, grinding your hips against his face as you continue to suck hiromi’s cock. Meanwhile Toji takes off his pants and positions his hardness against your wetness. “Fuck, your so wet already. Such a pathetic little bitch huh?” He rubs the head of his cock against your entrance as shiu continues his assault on your clit. Finally, Toji pushes his cock inside you. Groaning at how tight your cunt squeezes around him. “So fuckin’ tight.” He says as his length stretches you out, causing your eyes to roll back your head. Hiromi grabs a hold of your face and starts to fuck your throat, tears started to prick in the corner of your eyes as you tried not to gag on his cock. It was overwhelmingly too much. Toji starts to thrust into your pussy, hands smacking both of your ass cheeks as he bites his lips. Shiu was still passionately making out with your clit despite Toji pounding onto your pussy. He takes out his cock in his boxers and starts to fist himself. The room was filled with groans and moans. Toji’s big muscular frame made you look so small as he relentlessly pounds into you like a rag doll. “Yeah, yeah take it like the slut you are. Fuckin’ hell” he moans and picks up his pace. They all seemed to chase their orgasm, you feel yours building up too. Shiu groans against your clit and starts to fist himself faster, making you clench around toji’s cock. This was enough to drive him crazy. Toji gripped your waist tightly and angles his cock on your g-spot. Repeatedly assaulting it with his fat cock. You cry out and pull your mouth away from hiromi’s cock to breathe. You started moaning uncontrollably, hands continuing to jerk hiromi off. He spits on your face and grips your hair tighter. You felt your orgasm approach, making your legs tremble under shiu. “Please- pl- pleaase! wanna cum!” You blabber out in between moans. “Please what, whore?” Toji smacks your ass once again, still pounding into you. “Please sir! Need to cum! Please please!” You cry out, Toji chuckles and finally with one final thrust you cum all over his cock. Coating both shiu’s face and his cock with your juice. You pant and catch your breath, closing your eyes tightly. Suddenly you feel Toji start moving again. “Think we’re done already hm? Nah. Not until I’m satisfied. I’m not leaving this pretty little cunt without my cum.” He grunts and picks up his pace, his orgasm was close too and so was shiu and hiromi. You moan loudly, getting cut off by hiromi stuffing his cock back inside your mouth. Thrusting into your mouth once again. Shiu’s mouth was still latched onto your clit as he continues to jerk himself off faster, his beard ticking your skin. Everyone seemed to be chasing their orgasm. “Shiitt.” Toji throws his head back. “Suckin’ me in so well. Fuck I’m cumming.” He groans and with one more final thrust, he fills you up with his hot seed. His sweat dripping against your back. You felt his cock twitch inside you before he finally pulls out. His cum leaking out of your hole as he plunges his index and middle finger in to prevent it from dripping. “Not lettin’ my seed go to waste.” He says. Hiromi’s orgasm followed shortly after toji’s. A loud groan coming out of his gritted teeth as he cums inside of your throat, throwing his head back and panting. You pull his cock out of your mouth and swallowed his cum. Cleaning up the remaining cum that was left on his cock. He smirks and pets your hair. “Your not so bad after all-“ they were interrupted by shiu’s moan as he came all over his fist. He sighs and pants as well. The four of them trying to catch their breath.

After their intimate encounter, they help you clean herself because you couldn’t stand up nor walk. They were even kind enough to tuck you into bed. Toji pressing a kiss on your forehead as you drift to your sleep. “Goodnight angel, we’ll be back for more.”

[footprintsinthesxnd]

I’ll Wait For You

Hey anon, thank you so much for your adorable request. I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy. The best way to kick off the New Year? A Eugene Roe fic of course. Happy New Year everyone! Warnings: mentions of injury, family death, destruction of homes, themes of war, weapons.

Eugene couldn’t remember the last time his heart hadn’t been pounding out of his chest. Ever since they’d jumped on D-Day his heart had been beating like a trapped bird flapping its wings against his ribcage. He didn’t know whether it was fear or adrenaline; or both. He could safely say that he was scared, many of the men wouldn’t admit it and as their medic, he wouldn’t show it, but he was scared, scared for himself and his friends. It was normal to be scared. Yet Eugene had never seen anyone as scared as the large blue-eyed civilian girl looking up at him and Liebgott.

“What do we have here?” Liebgott had all but sneered, pointing his M1 at a terrified civilian. Eugene felt himself smacking the gun away from her, “Leave her be. She’s a civilian. What da hells wrong wit’ you.”

Liebgott quickly lost interest in the situation once Eugene took a protective stance in front of her, and hurried off to join Webster and a few of the others that had crowded in the square.

“It’s all right. I won’t hurt ya,” Gene spoke softly as he knelt beside her, his hands raised and his eyes not leaving hers. She backed further away from him, tears trickling down her cheeks as she mumbled something.

“What was that? Whatcha say?”

The girl mumbled again and Eugene’s demeanour quickly softened. She didn’t understand English, of course, she didn't, she was speaking French.

“C'est bon. Je ne te ferai pas de mal,” Eugene spoke again trying to reassure her he was no threat and this time the girl looked up at him, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“Tu parles français?” She asked, no longer looking as though she was about to fly out of the nearest open door.

“Je suis à moitié cajun. Toute ma famille parle français,” Eugene explained, glad that he was able to calm her down in her mother tongue. He could only imagine the horrors she had witnessed and then hiding in an abandoned house during the siege on Caretan too. He could only imagine.

“As-tu une famille? Que faites-vous ici?”

She shook her head and he wondered if he’d crossed the line by asking too much about her family.

“My family are all dead. I came here to be with my Aunt but the Germans had got to her first,” tears began to trickle silently down her cheeks again and Eugene felt himself reaching forward to place his hand on her shoulder, she didn’t pull away, instead leaning into his touch.

“I have no one left,” she muttered and now it was Eugene’s turn to look shocked.

“You speak English?”

“A little,” she admitted, “not a lot.”

Eugene couldn’t help but smile at her. She truly was pretty, her eyes striking against her pale skin, and despite the soot that covered her cheeks Eugene didn’t think he’d ever seen a girl so beautiful.

She moved a little and let out a small whimper which caused Eugene to lurch forward. “Are ya hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” she lied, clutching her calf which was now smeared with blood, her other bloody hand raised against her chest protectively.

“What happened to ya?” Eugene asked, digging into his musette bag and pulling out a sachet of sulfa powder and a bandage. He didn’t hesitate to wrap the bandage around her thigh, pushing her dress out of the way without a second thought. She was a patient, so why should he treat her any differently, although his growing red in response told a different story.

“Tu es très doux,” the girl mused, watching as Eugene’s hands worked quickly, wrapping her leg securely. Eugene hummed in amusement, no one had ever told him he was gentle before, certainly none of the other paratroopers. “It’s true,” she repeated and giggled as Eugene’s cheeks blushed a deeper shade of red. He quickly moved on, bounding her hand, avoiding her eye contact as she watched him work.

“You should be all set,” Eugene leaned back on his feet. “Can ya try and keep off it for a few days at least?”

“I can try but I’m trying to get to a family friend's house. It’s only a few miles down the road. I’m hoping they will take me in,” she looked down at her scuffed shoes, unable to face the truth that she really was alone now.

“How about we give ya a lift? We got plenty of trucks. I can ask the Lieutenant,” Eugene added hurriedly, he didn’t know why but he desperately wanted to help this girl and yet he didn’t even know her name.

The girl just nodded, watching as Eugene stood and hurried away.

A few days later Eugene found himself passing by the quaint town they had dropped the injured girl off to. He was busying himself in an abandoned barn patching up one of the young Private's shoulders. The boy was whining and moaning at the mere flesh wound and Eugene found himself losing patience with him.

“Will ya just stay still?” Eugene grumbled, pushing his elbow firmly into the boy to steady him. The boy continued to complain but Eugene ignored him, too caught up in his work. The other paratroopers often commented on how he generally focused on the wound instead of the patient, of course, he offered words of comfort when required but he felt the attachment unnecessary. Eugene had never intended to be a medic, it was thrust upon him during training and so he had embraced his calling. He would hold the lives of his fellow paratroopers in his hands, thus denying him the ability to become attached, because if he became attached, became their friends, their brothers, well it would make it all the harder when he lost them.

A muffled voice behind him caused Eugene to turn, seeing the familiar figure in the doorway. He dismissed the private, instructing him to rest as much as possible. He whipped his hands in the spare cloth he carried, “How’s da leg?”

“It is okay. I try to rest it when I can,” she smiled at him and Eugene found his heart beating a little faster.

“Good. That’s good. How’s da hand?”

“It is good too,” she laughed, limping across the barn towards him with a basket tucked under her arm. “I was looking for you. I wanted to thank you for the other day, for your kindness.”

“Please, there ain’t no need. It’s ma job,” Eugene protested but the girl silenced him, placing her fingers to his lips.

“No, your job is to look after the soldiers, looking after me was an act of kindness.”

Eugene blushed, his eyes going cross-eyed as he watched the placement of her finger on his lips.

“Thank you,” she quickly removed his finger and pecked his lips. It was barely a kiss, his mind barely registering the action before it was over. The blush covering their cheeks and the smile on both their lips meant everything.

“I also bought you some food, it’s not a lot but you can share it with your friends if you wish,” she passed the basket towards him and Eugene gratefully accepted.

“Your kindness is too much Ma’am, how will I ever repay ya?”

“You saved my life, it is I who should be in your debt,” she replied, a delighted smile playing at her lips, as Eugene thought of a reply.

“Well, what about if I write to ya and umm… you can write to me too if you’d like,” Eugene watched nervously as the girl thought over his proposition.

“Oui. I would like this very much,” she grinned at him, before throwing her arms around his neck. “And maybe after the war is over you will come back, back here to see me again?”

“Of course, if you’ll wait for me.”

“I will wait for you,” she replied adamantly, nodding her head and Eugene felt himself smiling again. He’d never felt this way before about anyone but this girl he’d stumbled upon seemed to change that and he didn’t want her to leave.

“Wait! Ma’am, I don’t even know ya name. Will ya at least tell me that?”

She smiled at him mischievously before replying, “Write to me first American Boy, then I know you are true to your word. Then you may have my name.”

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @ronald-speirs @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt

[alaskan-wallflower]

Can you do a blurb about the conversation that Darry and Sodapop would have after Ponyboy ran away

i’m not much for writing fanfiction but i could dip my toes into it lol-this is dogshut, i don’t write fanfic but ugh-i’ll try!

“Don’t you talk to him like that!” Pony had yelled out. Darry wasn’t one to lose his temper physically. He wasn’t. He would rather take a knife to the chest than lay a hand on either of his baby brothers. However, all the emotions-the stress of Pony being out and not being able to call the police, the anger towards his brother for talking back to him, the pulsing fear running through his veins…before h e knew it, he had blacked out. Pony was on the ground, a hand on his cheek, staring at him. So many emotions were crossing the fourteen year old’s fragile features. Betrayal, anger, confusion and the one that stuck out to Darry the most. Fear. It was like everything was running in slow motion as Pony turned his head and clenched his cheek. Soda was beside him, reaching out desperately, albeit too late. The damage was done.

“Pony, I-“

Before he could finish, Pony sprinted out the door. The running off wasn’t what struck him the most. What took Darry’s heart and cut it up were the hot tears running down Pony’s face. Tears he had inflicted. He. Darry. The person who was supposed to be his older brother.

“Pony’ Pony, I didn’t mean it!” he started off after Pony before Soda sprinted and blocked the door and slammed it shut.

“-rry-Da-GOD DAMNIT, DARRY!” Soda’s voice cut through the anxiety careening through Darry’s mind. He was shaking, he felt like he was floating form the lack of oxygen entering his lungs. Soda looked angry…angry, but also scared.

“What were you thinkin’?!” Sosa yelled at him. He deserved it. He wasn’t about to yell back. “Hittin’ him like that, teh hell prompted you to do that?!” Soda was shaking just as hard as Darry was, but he noticed the look. That dang look. The look of sheer desperation melting through the normal coldness of his eyes. The desperation he held when the police made him identify his parents bodies. The same pleading look he wore at their funeral, the same pleading look he was giving Soda, begging him to move…he was torn. Torn between letting Darry go after Pony, and torn between being beyond angry at Darry and never speaking to him again. However, that desperate look made Soda’s angry one falter.

“Darry-“

The brunet fell to his knees, the stress of the day-no, the last eight goddamn months finally breaking him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t fucking THINK-

But it went quiet. Distant and desperate breathing somewhere. His own. Being supported by Soda.

“Darry, shit! Darry, you have to breathe, man!”

Darry didn’t even know how to verbalize it. He hadn’t meant to hit Ponyboy. He hadn’t. He’d been holding everything in since his twentieth birthday, and the thought of losing Pony and Soda because the damn cops would’ve taken them away from him…he couldn’t excuse it. He couldn’t. And here he was, the strong older brother, panicking like a dang baby in his little brother’s arms.

Soda had so much he wanted to say. He couldn’t believe Darry had done that. But he also knew that Darry was absolutely shattered, and he couldn’t bear to hear it.

“He’ll come back, Dar.” Soda tried calming his older brother down. “But when he does, you absolutely cannot do that again or so help me-“ he cut himself off as Darry let out a desperate sound. He’d never heard any sort of noise from his brother akin to that one.

So many thoughts were coursing through Darry’s veins. What if the police came? What if Pony never came home? What if Soda now hated him too? What if-

“Darry.”

The one word alone made him look up, still unable to breathe properly.

“You need to listen to me. Pony will come home. Pony will be okay. As soon as he gets home you need to apologize to him, but he will come home.”

It took a while, but the initial panic faded away, it faded into shame. Shame for losing his temper like that. Shame for breaking down in front of his other brother like a dang child…

“…go upstairs.” Darry said brokenly, trying to pull hisself up.

“Darry-“

“Go!” he snapped, bracing himself against the wall with one hand and immediately turned around with the most guilty look on his face. “..please…” his voice wavered and cracked in ways that Darry Curtis’ voice shouldn’t have. After a few moments of internal debating, Soda retreated upstairs, half not being able to stand looking at his brother, and half because he didn’t want to fight.

Darry was alone now, unable to hold himself up. He couldn’t even keep them down, the hot tears streaking down his face as he slumped against the wall, utterly ashamed.

[cyren-myadd]

Could you make a Quaritch ticklish fic with his son Spider, please?

I've never gotten a request before! I hope you enjoy:

“Hey, Quaritch, look at this!”

Quaritch looked up from where he was washing his sweat-soaked tank top in a small stream at the sound of Spider’s voice. It took him a moment to spot him crouched among a bunch of oversized ferns, with something cradled in his hands. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was from his position. When Spider saw he had his attention, he very, very slowly stood and walked over to Quaritch with his mysterious prize hidden in his arms.

Alarm bells immediately went off in Quaritch’s head and his ears twitched up in alarm. Spider never did anything “very, very slowly,” so there had to be a reason for it. The shit eating grin on his face gave Quaritch the sneaking suspicion that whatever the reason was, he wasn’t going to like it.

Quaritch went back to cleaning his top and hoped Spider would get bored and leave him alone, but he had no such luck. To his dismay, Spider marched right up to him and gently displayed his hands with a soft, “ta da!”

“Ugh!” Quaritch didn’t bother trying to hide his disgust at the sight of the hideous little creature in Spider’s hands: it looked like the nightmarish offspring of a scorpion and a hornet, and it was about the size of a small dog. Coarse, wiry hair covered its spindly legs, and a wicked-looking stinger hovered mere centimeters above the unprotected skin of Spider’s palm. Quaritch’s ears flattened back in revulsion. Why such a beast would ever need to exist was beyond him. God, he hated this damn planet.

Spider snickered at his reaction. “You like it?”

“No! What the hell even is that? Why are you holding it?” Quaritch leaned away from Spider warily. He wouldn’t put it past the kid to try and throw it at him for shits and giggles. “Put that thing back where you found it before it stings you for Christ’s sake!”

“The Na’vi call it kalwey. Humans call it tarantula-wasp.” Spider explained, calmly letting the little nightmare crawl over his arms.

“If this is your way of asking for a pet, the answer is no.”

“Kalwey isn’t a pet. It’s a game!”

Quaritch stared balefully down at Spider and his new “friend.” He didn’t even want to ask. In the end, he didn’t need to ask because Spider continued explaining anyway.

“So, kalwey have a venom for hunting their prey. It’s harmless to Na’vi and humans, but it sure stings a lot. The Omaticaya have a game where you take turns holding the kalwey to prove you can stay calm under pressure, ‘cause the kalwey is easily startled, but it won’t sting as long as you keep your cool, see?” Sure enough, Spider stayed relaxed and the kalwey crawled up and down his arms without threatening to sting. It even crawled all the way up to his head and onto the plexiglass of his exopack. The damned thing was so big Quaritch couldn’t even see Spider���s face behind it, but he didn’t need to see to know he was still grinning like an idiot.

“Well, that’s great, kid. I’m so glad you were raised by people who think this is a good past-time.” He responded dryly.

“Wanna play with me?”

“No.”

“Aww, why not?” Spider whined while the kalwey migrated to the top of his head. It must’ve thought his dreadlocks were a good place to nest, because it folded up its legs and sat there like the world’s ugliest hat.

“Because this is ridiculous. Put it back.”

“What’s the matter? You scared?”

“I said, put it back.”

“You know, Jake is, like, really good at this game. It’s probably impossible to beat him…”

The mention of Sully instantly made Quaritch narrow his eyes. He stared Spider down for a long minute. Then, he heaved a heavy sigh and stuck out one hand. “Fine. Give me the damn bug.”

“Ha!” Spider crowed victoriously before gently removing the kalwey from its perch on his head and placing it into Quaritch’s palm.

Quaritch grimaced at the feel of its hairy little feet digging into his skin. Then, to his horror, it started crawling up his arm. He held his arm away from his body, hoping to discourage the creature from getting closer to him, but he had no such luck. It scuttled over the eagle tattoo and reached his shoulder, putting it uncomfortably close to his face. He realized he should’ve put his tank top back on before agreeing to play this ridiculous game, but it was too late to do anything about it now. All he could do was watch as the creature inched closer to his unprotected torso.

“Spider…”

“Just relax! The rule is that you have to let the kalwey go where it wants.” Explained Spider, who looked like he was enjoying Quaritch’s discomfort immensely.

Quaritch was about to tell Spider to take the damned thing off of him before it reached his neck, but then Spider said with a smug little smirk, “don’t tell me you’re scared?”

“Of course not!” Quartich snapped, mentally resigning himself to letting the kalwey have free reign of his body until Spider got bored of the game. He had a pretty short attention span. Hopefully, this would get old for him soon.

To Quaritch’s relief, when the kalwey reached his collarbone, it didn’t crawl up onto his neck, but instead went down onto his chest. Then, Quaritch found himself wishing it had crawled onto his neck when it reached his sides. Eight tiny, prickly feet dug into his striped blue skin as it crawled up and down.

Quaritch pressed his lips together in a tight line. His tail twitched and his chest started to shake. He prayed the little monster would move down onto his legs, which were protected by his pants, but unfortunately, it seemed to like skittering over his belly and his sides. Quaritch jammed his fist against his lips as his shoulders started to shake even harder.

Spider’s impish grin faded as he watched Quaritch shake. “Uh… are you okay?”

“Take it— take it off.” Quaritch wheezed through clenched teeth.

“What?”

“I said, ta– ake it off,” he repeated, his voice strained.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Spider—” he snapped in irritation, and suddenly, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. A small laugh escaped him that made his belly shake. “Aha, ha!”

Spider recoiled in surprise. It was the first time he’d ever heard him laugh. He probably hadn’t even thought Quaritch could laugh.

Unfortunately, the way Quaritch’s body shook from struggling to hold in his laughter upset the kalwey. It let out a warning hiss at having its exploration disturbed, and raised its wicked stinger menacingly.

“Spider, now!” Quaritch barked between strained laughs.

Right before the creature could sting him, Spider snapped out of his surprise and smacked it off his body so fast it didn’t have time to strike. Once the kalwey was gone, all the laughs Quaritch had been holding back finally escaped him.

“Ha, ha, ha— oh, hell!” He wheezed out a deep belly laugh before quickly sobering up into a scowl.

Spider stared up at him in confusion. “Quaritch?”

“Don’t ever ask me to do something like that again. That’s an order.” He snapped. His skin itched with the memory of little feet scampering over his skin.

“Wait a minute…” Spider began slowly. The confused look on his face was quickly giving way to something much more mischievous. It was a look Quaritch definitely didn’t like. “Are you ticklish?”

“No, I am not ticklish.” Quaritch glowered down at Spider, whose grin was growing wider by the second.

“Yuh-huh, you totally are!”

“I’m not a child, Spider. Of course I’m not ticklish. Now, come on, let’s get back to the rest of the squad.” Quaritch grabbed his wet tank top and quickly turned to leave, hoping if he changed the subject fast enough Spider would forget about the whole affair.

He didn’t make it five steps before a small set of hands dug into his sensitive sides. It startled him so much that he let out a small squeal of a laugh— a sound so unmanly it was downright shameful. The embarrassing little giggle was quickly drowned out by Spider bursting into laughter.

“Holy shit, you are ticklish! Ha!” He guffawed.

“You little—!” With a growl of embarrassment, Quaritch whipped around to scowl at him. He couldn’t believe Spider actually had the audacity to tickle him. Fucking tickle him. Quaritch was a colonel for Christ’s sake, not one of his little Na’vi friends to play around with.

While Spider continued to laugh at his expense, Quaritch scrambled to come up with the appropriate reaction to his behavior. If one of his subordinates had ever dared to tickle him, he would’ve had them court martialed faster than they could say Jack Robinson. But Spider wasn’t one of his subordinates. He couldn’t exactly court martial a teenager with no rank. Technically, Spider was a prisoner of war, but no POW would ever be in a position to mess with a colonel. Besides, Quaritch didn’t really want to treat him like a POW. At a loss for how to discipline him for his insubordination, all he could do was continue to glare at him disapprovingly while he howled with mean-spirited laughter.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up and come back to camp with me.” Quaritch ordered. He hoped the warning tone in his voice would be enough to make Spider forget this ever happened, but Spider either didn’t notice or didn’t care that he was on thin ice.

“Oh my god, the big bad Colonel Quaritch is ticklish! Who knew this was your weakness all along?” Spider snickered.

Quaritch turned to stomp back to camp, and this time Spider barely waited for his back to turn before a sneaky little hand snaked towards his exposed side. Unfortunately for Spider, this time Quaritch was ready for him. Before he could tickle him again, Quaritch seized his wrist and pinned the giggling Spider to the ground.

“Let’s see how you like it!” Quaritch snapped before he dug his fingers into Spider’s sides just how he’d dug his hands into his. Nothing happened. He changed tactics and tried to get a reaction by lightly tickling his belly and then his armpits, but it didn’t work. Instead of helplessly laughing, Spider just smirked.

Quaritch sat back on his haunches, but kept a hand on Spider to keep him pinned. “You’re not ticklish.”

“Nope! Just you.” Despite being pinned to the ground by someone who could easily crush his ribcage, Spider didn’t look worried at all. In fact, he was grinning so wide he looked like the cheshire cat. 

Quaritch’s ears twitched down in embarrassment. What the hell was he doing? He was squatting in the mud trying to tickle his captured translator like an idiot; he was making a fool of himself! When Spider had tried to tickle him again, he hadn’t thought it through, he’d just reacted, wrestling him to the ground on instinct. Why was this of all things his first instinct? This wasn’t any way to treat a subordinate, and it certainly wasn’t a way to treat a POW. If anything, this was— Quaritch’s tail flicked upwards as he realized where he’d seen this before. A hazy, half forgotten memory swam to the surface of his borrowed psyche: a much younger, much more human Miles Quaritch play-fighting with his father long, long before he’d ever even heard of a place called Pandora. With a jolt, Quaritch realized that Spider looked a lot less like a POW getting chewed out for messing with his captor, and a lot more like a young Miles smiling as he played with his dad.

Quaritch didn’t know how he felt about that.

Before he could make up his mind, a small hand snuck past his defenses and pinched his side, sending him into another fit of compulsive laughter. Spider crowed in delight at successfully tickling him again.

“Boy, if you don’t cut that out—!” Quaritch cried, but this time there was no venom in his tone. He let his inner turmoil go and let his instincts take over. Scooping Spider up into his arms, he put him in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles into his dreadlocked head.

“Hey, get off!” Spider protested as he tried to squirm out of his grip, but there was no real urgency to it.

This wasn’t the first time Quaritch had held Spider, but it was the first time he’d done so without Spider genuinely fighting to get away from him. Though Spider pushed back against his over-sized arms, his movements were playful and he laughed as he did it. It was nice, Quaritch realized. He liked the feeling of holding Spider and knowing he wasn’t scared; knowing he trusted Quaritch not to hurt him.

Once Spider started to tire from pushing against Quaritch’s much stronger arms, Quaritch swung him back onto his feet and let him go. “Alright, you little knucklehead. You’ve had your fun, but if you go trying to poke me again, I’m gonna throw you in the creek, you hear me?”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Spider replied with a sarcastic salute.

They started to walk back towards where the other recoms were setting up camp for the night. Before they were in ear shot, Spider shot Quaritch a sly grin. “So, does the rest of the squad know you’re ticklish?”

Quaritch lightly smacked his leg with his tail as he walked by. “Remember what I said about throwing you in the creek?”

Laughing, Spider threw up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Your secret is safe with me, old man!”

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DICK GRAYSON | NIGHTWING (young justice animated)

—

“Intruder Alert” (Dick Grayson x Gn!Reader)

| Dick sneaks into your apartment after a rough night and the two of you end up scaring each other.

| SFW, false scare, reader has a panic attack, wound care

| Not canon complaint. (pic source: Young Justice animated series)

| 600+ words

When you walk into your apartment you allow yourself exactly two seconds of unease before inching your way right back out.

You might not be Bat levels of paranoid but you still hung around them enough to have picked up on a few things, however subconsciously.

Like the faint sound fabric makes when rubbed against and to stop and listen before you enter a room for breathing.

You feel kind of stupid not bothering to close the door. You’d already given yourself away with your key in the lock though, there was no need to do any more damage and let the possible intruder know that you were onto them so quickly.

You’ve carried yourself in a near daze down two flights of stairs before you remember you’re supposed to be calling someone. For a second something in you seizes up with the sting of humiliation as you tap on the saved name in your contacts, but you shove it off. You’d rather this be a false alarm and look a little foolish than you ignore what you picked up on and end up dead.

As you make your way to the lobby one step after the other the stairs that when you first started we’re perfectly clear are now blurry. Clearly the person hadn’t attacked you the moment the door opened so it wasn’t a rushed hit. So what the hell did you do to earn a calculated hit, one that wouldn’t happen until the door was closed and you felt safe?

You wipe at your eyes in an attempt to get rid of the blurriness but it doesn’t work. Jesus what the hell was going on?

Dick picks up on the fourth ring.

“Hey,” he says, voice tight. “I was just about to call you. What a coincidence.”

The way he says it doesn’t make it sound like a fun coincidence. You feel decidedly not fun right now though as you’re forced to stop when your legs buckle under you. You have to lean against the railing to stay on your feet.

Were you drugged? Did you release some type of gas into your system when you opened your door?

“Y/n, hey babe can you hear me! Where are you?”

“Um- I’m in the….is this line secure?”

“Of course.”

“I’m in the stairwell of my place. Third floor I think?”

“….oh?”

“Yeah. I opened my door and something was off so I left like you told me to do.”

Another longer pause before a muffled ‘shit’ and then: “…hold on I’m coming to get you.”

Turns out Dick had simply - though you didn’t see what was simple about him breaking into your 6th floor apartment with a sword wound - been in your place before you got there. You’d thought he was an intruder, and him the same of you, and you’d both freaked yourselves out in the process.

And now he’s pretzeled beside you examining the slash on his thigh, Nightwing suit laying behind him on the back of the couch with the medical kit unearthed from under your bathroom sink.

“Way to follow your instincts back there,” he’s saying. You only hum in acknowledgment, more caught up on the slash running along his calf and the way he’s bleeding all over one of your good towels.

“Why are your calves or thighs always fucked up when you come to me?”

Dick shrugs, makes a noncommittal sound. “I lead with my legs.”

“Mhm,” you cut him a look. “I like the way you almost gave me a panic attack by the way.”

He looks up at you then, blue eyes flashing with no small amount of embarrassment.

“I did not do that on purpose!”

NOTES: Short and to the point, Hope you enjoyed!!

I had to post something before the month ended so ta-da! This was really just me playing around with writing Dick on his own (more so with his YJ animated characterization) than anything.

btw: this is quite a short story, I know, but you can still write a lil comment if you want to.

[chasedbyatlantic]

sunshine, joel miller

masterlist summary: IN WHICH — after getting lost on your little getaway, out by yourself, help is on the way once your situationship - joel miller - gets wind of it.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson era!joel, f!reader, angst into fluff!, (almost)smut at the end - hints to it, joel being caring for you, mentions of guns, swearing, joel being husband material as usual. lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i got HEAVILY inspired from the lyrics behind sunshine (steve lacy/fousheé) for this, its also my first go at a little angsty vibe so i hope u love it as much as i do. remember to like, comment, reblog and follow for more! send in requests. xoxo

—

It had been weeks since you last saw him.  You felt bad, you really did- you just couldn't bring yourself to love him and then lose him like you did with everyone else.  This world was so cruel to you, you didn't want it to be any crueler.  Not anymore.  You had been through so much in the last few years, that you were now holding on with a thread, and the thread was thinning out even more.  You didn’t tell him that you didn’t want to be with him, no, you told him that you just needed time to- think it through.  He seemed more than happy with the decision when it happened, it just (sort of) backfired after. 

You found out it had gotten bad after you talked with Ellie last.  Over the period of time you two were together, you grew closer to her - she trusted you, and you trusted her.  Ellie had told you that Joel was always locked in his room, other than when he had work.  He would skip meals every so often, but it was something that didn’t bug her (it bugged you, though).  After she had told you all of this, she made you swear under the non-existent god (her words, not yours) that you would never tell Joel.  You promised, of course, but this made you nothing short but scared, scared for him.

You and Joel worked together, that was how you met in the first place.  You were both on the more-experienced end of the patrollers unit throughout Jackson, and often went outside of the walls together.  That had changed, though.  A few days after you had loosened (not ended) the ties with Joel, you had been assigned to a new sub-unit by Tommy Miller (Joel’s younger brother), one that wouldn’t intertwine with Joel’s at all.  You weren’t sure if he had said something (you really hoped he hadn’t, you couldn’t deal with any pre-apocalyptic drama anymore), or if it was just the world doing you guys a solid.

You were close with Tommy’s wife, Maria, so you had somehow convinced her to let you take a small trip outside the walls by yourself, to scavenge for supplies and what not.  You told her you knew the outside area like the back of your hand, and you weren’t all wrong.  It was just- well, you didn’t know it off the top of your head, you knew it through a map (that was something you’d never tell Maria, though).  She made you promise her that you would radio her if anything went down while you were out, anything ranging from getting lost to coming across unfamiliar people.  That’s where you found yourself right now.

You left the walls two days ago, and now you were lost.  You had lost your map after having to kill a clicker late the night before, and couldn’t find it no matter how hard you looked.  Though, you only looked for about an hour- you had to get out of the area quickly, because if there was one clicker, there was bound to be others.  You now found yourself in the living room of a house you had cleared out earlier in the day, praying to whoever was above that someone would answer the radio call. 

“This is- it’s me, Maria,” Your hand was holding down the side button, as a sigh was heard across this station, “I’m lost, I should’ve listened, my coordinates are-” You had listed off the rough points, admitting defeat.  Maybe this was the universe’s way of telling you that you needed to move on and start off fresh.  Hell, you thought to yourself, this was a damn good way of Mother Nature telling you to leave those people behind, if that was her goal.  You waited a moment before flipping through the channels, having absolutely nothing else to do but this.  It was still radio silence throughout all of the twenty-some odd channels.  You decided to give yourself an ultimatum, if no signs were shown by the morning, you’d move on for the better.

You had fallen asleep not long after you gave yourself the ultimatum.  You only realized that after your brain woke itself up god knows how long after.  Your body was nowhere near waking up, this had to have been the best sleep you had gotten in weeks, after everything that happened with Joel.  You weren’t a cliche person, no way.  But, you knew you hurt Joel, even if he refused to show it ever.  You felt like shit for doing it, you really did, but maybe he would’ve figured out that it was for the better (sooner or later, at least).  

Speaking of figuring it out, you had figured that you better get up.  It was probably around nine or so in the morning, and you had already slept in far too late.  You shifted around on the floor, where your makeshift (not really) bed was, before you heard breathing.  Not your breathing, no, but something- someone else.  If you weren’t fully awake before, you sure as hell were now.  You didn’t open your eyes, but you shifted once more, you had a pistol in your back pocket that you had to get out.  As you tried your very best to shift as normal as one could in their sleep, you finally reached the pistol.  You hand wrapped around the body, and finger hovering the trigger, before shooting up and ripping the pistol out of your pocket.  Your eyes were translucent-like right now, which meant you weren’t able to see properly who was in front of you.  It was only by the tone of the voice that gave the person away, “Now cowgirl, what’d I teach ya’ ‘bout pointin’ guns at people ya’ know?”

It was him, it was Joel Miller.  With the gun still pointed at him, a million thoughts started to race through your head.  Why was he here?  How did he find out?  How did he get here so fucking quick?  Though, your thoughts were cut short when your pistol was ripped out of your right hand- and you just let it be.  You rubbed your eyes, finally able to lay your eyes across the man in front of you.  He looked like he had lost a bit of weight in his face, but his hair was still curly and untamed, his muscles still threatened to strip the seams out of his shirt, his eyes were still- no, you thought to yourself, you couldn’t and shouldn’t be thinking like this.  

“You shouldn’t be here, Joel.  Not after what happened.” You immediately shot up, not letting your eyes linger for a second longer.  He was sat, leaning against the door frame into the kitchen.  His rifle was resting against his knees, the safety on since he knew you wouldn’t do anything.  “What?  Just ‘cause we- doesn’t matter.” He muttered, “Ya’ called, and I came’n checked on my colleague.” A colleague?  It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, when he said that.  You had to ignore it and keep your guard high, it wasn’t like you if you didn’t.

“How the fuck did ya’ get the radio station?  It was only for Maria.” You had gotten up, honestly just wanting to leave.  Even after feeling like the shittiest person on earth for distancing yourself from Joel, you would’ve preferred anyone else to answer the call for help.  As you made your way to the entrance of the kitchen, just beside to where Joel was sitting, he put his rifle up and covered your path.  “Made ya’ somethin’ to eat, missy.  Ya’ still eat y’ur eggs over easy?” This set you off, almost. Why was he being so nice to you, after everything you did to him?

You pushed your way through his rifle and into the kitchen, the smell of freshly cooked eggs, something you hadn’t smelled in god knows how long, came passing through your nose.  Joel always treated you right, you didn’t deny that.  You had heard the man in the other room getting up, so you quickly ripped off a piece of the over easy egg and shoved it in your mouth.  He would’ve obviously seen you had taken a bite, but you wanted to hold onto the little bit of pride you had left.  “Listen,” Joel had began as you turned to face him, he was leaning against the frame, “I’ain here to rehash anythin’, just wanted to make sure everythin’ was alright.” 

It wasn’t before, but why did it feel like it was now?  You shouldn’t have been feeling like that, you thought to yourself. You should be running away and pushing him farther away from you than before.  “It is, you can- leave now.” You had hesitated, and your eyes fell from Joel’s.  You couldn’t even look him in the face when you said it, you knew it was wrong.  All you wanted to do was hug him and kiss him again, but the fear of attachment you had was lingering heavy right now.  Joel noticed this, crossing his arms.  He knew that you were bull-shitting him, and that everything wasn’t fine.  He had been with you long enough to know when you were lying, and when you weren’t your usual self.  “‘M sorry- ya’ know that, Sunshine.” He told you, one of the few times you had ever heard an apology escape the man’s lips.  This had roped you into meeting his gaze again, your heart almost dropping.

Joel went to say something else, but you immediately cut him off. “Don’t you apologize.  I was the one to- to push ya’ back.” You began, “It shouldn’t have happened and’m sorry for it- Jesus Christ Joel, you know I still love ya’.” There was different tones said to this, angry ones, sad ones, embarrassed ones.  You knew, and Joel knew, that whatever you had done was to try and protect him, but no matter how much you pushed him back, you guys were meant to be no farther than three feet away from each other.  

“There’s the girl I know, not some pistol whippin’ chick.” He had a rough smile playing against his face, he couldn’t help it.  Joel, despite not showing it, had butterflies that were running through his stomach like crazy right now.  You made him feel like that whenever you wear near him, and he hadn’t experienced that for twenty years.  He unfolded his arms and rose one, signalling you in for a hug.  You couldn’t help it, you immediately stepped forward and embraced the man that you had missed so dearly.  Though the fear of attachment was still alive and well, you felt as if you could outrun it right now.

It felt like it was your first hug in years (in weeks, actually), and it felt so rewarding.  Joel was praying (even though he wasn’t a religious man at all) that you would come around, and that you would love him again- like he loved you.  Your head fit into the crook of his neck just like a puzzle piece, and he was happier than ever.  “‘M sorry.” You repeated yourself once again, wanting to say so much more but just couldn’t find the words to.  His hand fell to the bottom of your neck, “I know,” He began, “Now, go eat y’ur meal before I eat it for ya’.”

You had a small smile rise to your face as your arms dropped from Joel’s embrace.  You had reached over and gotten the egg, ripping a piece off the edge of it.  You turned back and turned your glances up (Joel had practically towered over you) to meet his eyes, bringing the piece of egg to his lips.  As Joel took notice of what you were doing, he parted his lips in order to assist you.  As your finger slipped into Joel’s mouth, he started to suck around your finger.  It felt good, almost too good, in your opinion.  He let out a small, raspy moan against the piece of you that was in his mouth.

He had let go after a moment, letting your hand fall back to the side of you.  “Missed everythin’ ‘bout ya’.” He had started, tucking a piece of your hair behind your right ear.  “‘Specially the late nights.” You knew what he was talking about, sex.  Even though the world had gone to complete shit, people were still going to be people.  “Before anythin’,” You had started, “Do ya’ wanna, I’dunno, get back at it?” You were bad with words, Joel knew that.  But he also knew that you were hinting at continuing your relationship together.  He didn’t want anything else, honestly.  He missed waking up to you, going to bed with you, and everything in between.  Joel wasn’t an emotional guy by any stretch of the way, but he tried to be more considerate when it came to the people he loved.

Joel had answered your question by leaning forward and placing his lips on top of yours.  He was soft at the start, unsure on how you would take it.  He was also hoping that this would give you an answer, instead of a verbal ‘I need you now’ one - thankfully, it did.  It gave you a clear-as-fucking-day answer.  You had parted your lips, allowing Joel to take control over the both of you while you two were catching up on the missed kisses from the last while.  This is when he had started let his rough edges show, he slipped his tongue in and started to love on you more aggressively.  He was still hesitant on how you were going to take it, but you reacted very positively (to his pleasure).

Joel became handsy first, his hands travelling from over your hips to under your shirt and unclipping your bra.  He knew that you wanted it as much as he did right now, he could tell by the muffled moans that were escaping your lips against his.  You were soon to follow suit, your hands moving from Joel’s chest, to his more southern regions.  A grunt had escaped his lips when you began to undo his belt, and he removed your bra from under your shirt.  This was the only person you had ever wanted to do anything like this with, Joel knew that.  He felt the same way with you, he knew that you were delicate with him and his subconscious.  

Now that things were finally figured out between the two of you, you could go back to loving Joel.  You would deal with your fears at a later date, not now, not anytime soon.  You had to focus on what you loved most, and it was the man right in front of you.  Joel was glad you had come around, he didn’t know what he would’ve done if you didn’t.  In this hell-bound world, you were one of the few things that really mattered to him.  Everyone goes through their hardships, it just makes the shared relationship stronger.  You had finally figured that out as Joel was making love to you.  Fears can come and go whenever they want, but people you love will stick with you- even through the fucking apocalypse.

—

sunshine, steve lacy/fousheé

[astolfofo]

deja vu, Jamis vu

BSD beast au x reader. Based on the end of the beast movie.  AUTHORS NOTE: SO. ITS FINALLY DONE. ITS 4AM I AM ON IPAD TUMBLR AND UHHHH… I tried to edit this. but. TUMBLR WAS BEING AN ASS. and the two hours I spent editing this went down the drain. Mere words could not describe the grief I felt at 3:37 in the morning. I would have screamed if I weren’t so zombieified. Then, I tried to be paitent and edit it another time, but tumblr was like: haha no. so it didn’t save. I swear it’s not my fault if you have a stroke while reading this. I sacrificed my sleep for an entire week to do write this. Please give me some credit for my suffering. /lh

Also keep in mind. I have watched the DA movie and the beast movie a whopping total of 1 time. It’s probably very off from what I was trying to communicate, cause I legit have no clue what goes on in the light novels... spare me the slander. 

Last thing, I tried something new with this one, so there’s weird ahh switches between first person and 2nd person in this. Idk how good it is, lmk if i should never do it again.

Tw: head injury, murder, blood, suicide, yeah I think that’s about it.

word count: 6.8k  

To all the Chuuya enjoyers out there, I’m sorry for being a disappointment.

Tags: @redeemingmygloryintopurgatory

I’m wet.

Im standing outside his door, knocking as it rains outside, without an umbrella, cold, and of course, drenched.

Helplessly, I knock on his door, hoping for a response from him. I know it’s pointless, by now. I should cut him out of my life by now, I should… leave him. He’s not a good person, he’s part of the Port Mafia, for the love of god… I’m scared of him. He could crush me at any moment. Hell, he breaks into my house so frequently, and even though he’s done no harm… he could kill me at any moment. So why am I here? Shouldn’t I be relieved that he hasn’t shown up at my apartment for over a month now? I… just can’t…

Lightening splits the sky in half and the sound of thunder cracks in the air.

Your fist slides down the window pane of the door. It makes a terrible sound, and you wince in pain from the sting of the friction. You should just go home. It was obvious Chuuya wasn’t even home, he never was. And if he wasn’t even home, how would he even answer the door? You regret coming here in the first place, you didn’t even know why you chose to. Was it out of worry? Was it because you had to say something to him? You couldn’t remember by now, it was all on impulse. 

Chuuya had broken into your apartment countless times. Still, no matter how many times you’d snap at him, how many times you’d emptily threaten him, or try to push him off the balcony, he still came back the next day, unphased. You couldn’t get rid of him, no matter how hard you tried. And after many days, you had learned to accept that someone could break into your home at any given moment.

And you had no knowledge of how he knew you, let alone knowledge of how he even got your house key. Or maybe he picked your lock. You couldn’t be sure and you really did not want to know. 

Every day, you’d come back home from work, and Chuuya would be sitting on your couch, drinking your wine (much to your own distaste). You’d usually give him a dirty look, and he’d glare in return but you’d say nothing. You preferred not to talk to him, and Chuuya wouldn’t raise conversations by himself. He always sat in the corner of the room, observing… scrutinizing every move you made. On the rare occasions when you had managed to start a conversation with him, it was always painfully awkward.

You once remember asking him why he was here, what he wanted from you, and his true intentions. Chuuya looked at you in an amused manner and stared out the window. 

“Why I’m doing this? You’ll find out yourself when the time is right.”

By the time you had woken up, he was always gone. As if he was never there in the first place. The only thing he’d leave was the wine glass he’d drink out of, and your clothes you had hauled back from the laundromat messily folded, in your drawer. Occasionally, when it warm out, he’d leave the window open. They were small actions. Meant to be noticed, but not returned.

The splashing of rain intensifies, as you stand on Chuuya’s porch. He’s not home. You can’t stand here forever. You have to get back home before it’s too late.

What a great way to spend my time off work.

But you wanted to try one last thing before you left. Maybe his door was unlocked the entire time. Although you would doubt it, it was worth a try. It was so stupid to do this, all of it was. But your curiosity is getting the best of you, and you desperately wanted answers. Answers only Chuuya could give.

So, you grip the door handle and twist the doorknob. Much to your shock, the mechanics of the door click, and the door opens.

Chuuya had left the door unlocked. He forgot to lock his own door. You take a step up, and stand in the doorway. The rain is still hitting your back, and you groan realizing that you’re dripping water onto the floor. Quickly, you step in and shut the door. You twist the lock, ensuring that no one else would come in.

You sure hope Chuuya wasn’t going to come home tonight. The thought of it made the hair on your neck stand slightly. 

You take off your shoes which are drenched in water and stare in the mirror. You’re soaked to the bone. Your clothes are completely see-through. You’d need to change them. That could wait, though. If the rain stopped, you’d go home as soon as possible.

Okay. Quick in and out it is. I need to find my spare key, and I need to find what happened to him after the explosion in the sky that day. The one that happened on the top of the… port mafia building. You shudder. I wonder what happened. It was so bright that it looked as if the sky exploded for a second. The next thing you know, everything is back to normal… except it isn’t. A dead body is found at the bottom of the building.

Followed by that, I never saw Chuuya again, but many people that were close to me have been avoiding me. When asked why, they avoided my question. There isn’t a strong connection there, but I think… that all of these events are connected somehow. Chuuya never appears again, and the fact he works for the Port Mafia, definetly does not help. 

Additionally, the Armed Dective Agency sent me a letter to be wary of Chuuya. With no additional information. There’s something going on here. Something is wrong. Something terribily wrong.

And I’m scared.

Apprehensively, you take several steps inside the house. You keep getting the feeling that you may get caught. But you don’t hear anything at the door. It’s a painful paranoia.

You inhale and exhale.

I’ll start looking for hints first. I don’t need an answer right away. One hint will be able to give me lots. I’ll start from his room, that’s where people are most likely to hide things.

You walk as quickly as possible across the empty corridor in the house. His house is eerily empty. There isn’t much in it, just a lot of furniture, a shelf of wine, messy papers and a few books placed sparsely across the rooms.

You walk up the stairs, which slightly creaks under your weight. You try your best to ignore any noises and try to stay focused. As you reach the top of the stairs, you see his bedroom, which is the first room at the end of the staircase.

You walk towards the room, you open the door and look around. Chuuya’s room is surprisingly fuller than the rest of the house. There is a dresser, with several items stacked on top of it. It has drawers, which you assume were full. His closet was also filled with clothes, with various hats on the shelf above in his closet.

Chuuya’s bed was neatly made, giving the impression that he had not been home in weeks. Unoccupied, cold, and abandoned. Yet you felt a temptation to lie in it either way. Your eyes dart to the dresser again, and you look at the various items spread out on it. None of these are of much use to you. Besides the gun that seemed unused.

Your hands move to the drawers and you begin to search them. In the first one, there was nothing. Just a bunch of stationery, and papers, some of which had blood on them. You shudder in disgust and move on.

You struggled to pull the second drawer. After a moment, it slides open and you look at the inside contents. You stare at it, wondering if you open it. There is no address on it, and it isn’t sealed. 

You have a bad feeling about this, but your hands move faster than your brain. You pull out the piece of paper and read its contents.

The letter is addressed to you. It doesn’t include much. Just A single sentence that holds an address. 

And then it hits you.

Chuuya had been planning this for a long time. He had purposely left the door unlocked, left his house empty, and left you because he knew you would try to find him one day.

It infuriates you more than you expect. But you can’t stop here. You’ll go to a specific location. 

Just to be sure, you look in the third drawer, you see your spare key, as well as a lock cutter. 

Its dark now. It’s still pouring. You have no choice to stay here for tonight. Begrudgingly, you curse yourself for dragging yourself into this. Still, you were in too deep to back out now. Whatever happens, will happen.

-

You wake up. 

You're lying on Chuuya's bed, in his clothes, begrudgingly. Your own clothes are discarded onto the floor, dried during the time you had been asleep. Still, you don't exactly feel like changing into them. It felt too gross to wear them. 

You shake your head. Now's not the time to be thinking about that. You sit up, and stretch your arms. Then, you walk towards the desk again, and look at the address. You take note of the address, and take your spare key. Before you go, you flip over the paper, ensuring that you didn't miss anything. There's another sentence scribbled on the top of the paper.

I know you're reading this. You want to know why I'm gone, and why I did this. The address that is provided will help you, but it will not give you the answer, nor will I be there. 

…What? 

You read the sentence over and over again. The words sink in, making you feel conflicted. You knew you were getting yourself into a certain kind of danger by doing this, but you didn't expect it to be this risky. Hell, you didn't even know where the man was now, and not to mention… the location…

You look at the location again.

It's on the street where the explosion happened. And you're no fool. If it was on that street, it meant it was that building. There were no other possibilities. You doubt it would be any other one of those tall skyscrapers, anyways. The one where the explosion happened was the only building Chuuya had any affiliations with.

Which was going to be incredibly difficult to get into. Let alone, to the top floor. You'd be dead even trying to set foot into the door. It wasn't worth your life for this. You should forget about it and go back home.

You look through the paper again, hoping there might be something more to help you. Sighing, you came back with nothing. I suppose I really have to go through with this, don't I? There's no turning back. 

-

The walk to the Port Mafia's building was rather short, if you were being completely honest. It was located in the heart of Yokohama, and was one of the tallest buildings there, if that told you anything. 

You stand outside the building, as the apprehension and fear build up inside you. You had never felt as much of a need to run from anything, as much as you did now. The doors, despite their grandeur size, and large glass design, looked uninviting. Almost like doors to a bank vault; the kind of doors that told you, you wouldn't be able to get out, as soon as you stepped in. And from various things people has told you throughout the years, the Port Mafia keeps people it's had come into contact with. It's more powerful beyond belief. 

It doesn't need to control you. You'll be forced into being pliant for them, simply by fear. No one can betray them. Death is almost a guarantee if you do.

And recently, they had also become violent as well. You might as well be walking yourself into a death wish.

But your feet remained rooted into the ground, and part of you remains determined to see this through. So you take a deep breath and walk into the building. 

You try to remain calm as you push through the doors, into the lobby. You pray Hou won't be swatted with bullets as soon as you enter, but much to your own surprise, there's no one in the lobby. It's completely empty.

It doesn't feel right. You wonder if what happened. Well, it's not your business anyways. You couldn't care less. You just needed to find whoever Chuuya's office is and-

"Who are you?"

shit. you curse under your breath. "I-I'm," you turn around to face the person talking g to you. As soon as you do this, the man's eyes widen, and you acknowledge away slightly. "Sorry… um… do you know where Chuuya is?"

You had never felt so idiotic and out of place in your life. You can physically feel your heart pounding inside your chest, as you pray you don't look too suspicious. You can't mess up here. Though the man you are currently talking to isn't holding any firearm. That may just as well mean he has even worse methods to kill you off.

"He's not here."

of course, he isn't. You think to yourself. He wrote that in his own letter, or whatever you call it. 

"He's been arrested." The man looks you directly into your eyes, and as on instinct, you look down, too scared to actually look at him. A few moments pass in silence.

"Can you… perhaps tell me why?"

"After the previous Port Mafia executive committed suicide, Chuuya was forced to lead the Port Mafia. He hated the job greatly, and he eventually…" He stops himself.

"Go on." You mutter.

The man tilts his head and looks at you again. "Are you sure? If you want to see him… it's better just to see for yourself." He stops for a second. 

"No… please tell me. Tell me everything that you possibly can."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Fine then. If you insist."

"Chuuya lost his control over himself. He slowly became more, deranged, if you will, as time went on. After the old executive killed himself, Chuuya had no one left. Or at least, that's what we saw. His orders became more and more irrational, often just resorting to killing everything, and slowly, he eventually broke. He went on a rampage, as you've probably seen, Yokohama is not safe with him around. He almost destroyed Yokohama in its entirety, and it took serveral organizations to stop him. I don't know the exact details after that. He remains locked up underground."

You feel as if you had been doused under cold water. You didn't only have your question answered, but that also explained several other things as well. You try to recollect your thoughts while figuring out what to do next.

"By the way, you look familiar."

"How so?"

"I don't know, to he honest. You look like someone who used to work here. Maybe my mind js tricking me, though. You look too weak to be here."

"Yeah," you force out an awkward laugh, "I could never work here for the life of me."

"Figures."

another awkward pause, as you stare at the man.

"I assume you need Chuuya's location, don't you?"

You nod.

"Here." He hands you a piece of paper, with an address messily scrawled onto it. "Although, I don't recommend going to see him, tell the guards you are a relative of his. Hopefully, it will convince them enough to let you in. Though, if you want, I'm sure you can attempt to knock the guards out. Chuuya's well… very restrained so he won't hurt you."

"Ah… thank you."

"Don't mention it."

You bow and leave.

"Hey wait-" the man calls out, his voice echoing through the empty lobby. He seems hesitant to ask something. You stop and turn around. "Yeah?"

He looks down, and awkwardly avoids eye contact for a second. It's at this moment you realize he's a man with short, white, hair, as well thick bangs that were cut into a slant. He’s rather short, and he’s wearing a long jacket.

He looks… familiar. I wonder why.

“What’s your name?” 

You stare at him for another moment before answering. “It’s Y/N.”

You could have sworn you had seen a face of surprise from him for a second, but it could have been your imagination because the next instant you blink, it’s gone. “I see,” he says slowly. “Be careful then. He’s not the same as what you may remember.”

As… I remember? What….

“Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Just go to the address, and everything will make sense.”

“Hey wait-”

He’s already turned his back and left on you. You’re left with so many more questions than you started off with, and dread creeps up you again. There was a warning tone in his voice, almost as if telling you to do this was a terrible idea. That you were going to be landing yourself in scalding hot water, and you wouldn’t be able to get out. You knew the risks from the start, but…

You quickly unfold the paper, and look for the address. Once again, the address is written in the center of the paper. You carefully look around for any other writing on the paper.

It’s completely white. Blank. Except for one sentence on the bottom: It’s never too late to back out. 

And you stare at it, and think about the several cryptic warnings you received from this man. So… you’re telling me, that after that explosion happened in the sky… a dead body, the previous executive was found. Then shortly after that, Chuuya became the executive of the Mafia. He hated it. But he had no choice and was left alone to do it. Eventually, he lost his sanity and mind and the Mafia… I guess? Because very corrupt, violent, and unsafe. It took many people to stop him, and how he was arrested in an underground cell. At this address.

It’s clear he’s cutting something out. He said to be careful. Of course, if Chuuya has lost his mind, I need to do that. But he empathized that I should be wary of him. Also, he said I looked familiar, and he also looks familiar to me. He mentioned something about… me remembering? Have I known Chuuya for longer? 

But he also said that only Chuuya has the answers to all my questions. So that means in other words, he knows what happened during the explosion, he knows that Chuuya has been breaking into my apartment and he knows more about my entire predicament now, than I do.

Just… who exactly is he? How and why?

You cut yourself off from those thoughts. 

Ugh. this is ending up being so much more complicated than it was supposed to be. You thought in bitterness. So basically, I’ll go to the address, and get the answers to my questions. Sounds simple enough. There’s no need to overthink this. Maybe i’m just being paranoid. What’s the worst that could happen?

Well, a lot. But I’ll just ignore that for now.

You turn around and walk towards the door again. To be honest, you don’t want to know what might happen once you see him. You were already nervous from the implications the man had told you moments ago, and you were coming to realize there were some things that you noticed when you were in Chuuya’s house. Things that you maybe weren’t supposed to know about or see.

In the bottom of the drawer… there were documents. Documentation of everything that happened on the day of the explosion. A bright light illumined the sky, followed by the dead body found; the previous port mafia’s executive; Dazai Osamu. The two closest people to the explosion were a member of the port mafia, Atsushi Nakajima, and a member in the training of the Armed Detective Agency, Ryounouske Akuwatagawa. They are believed to be the cause of the explosion.

No one knows the exact events inside the Port Mafia on that day, except for the individuals involved in the actions that happened. According to the Armed Detective Agency, Akuwtagawa had barged into the Port Mafia to challenge the Port Mafia Executive. He accordingly, fought many individuals in the Port Mafia, a body count is yet to be determined. Data from thereon forth is unknown until the individuals reach the top of the building, where the most notorious event stated above occurred.

Additionally, after thorough examination of the body of the previous Port Mafia Excuetive, it can be concluded that he had committed suicide by jumping off the building. 

The document ends there, and the paper is ripped in half.

-

It felt like every meter you travelled towards that location was walking towards a terrible, yet inevitable fate. The drive there, dragged on and on as if mocking you for your choices. You find yourself counting down the seconds until you can arrive at the location given.

Oh, how you wished you had stayed at home instead of seeking him out. If only your morbid curiosity hadn’t gotten the best of you.

You’ve lost track of the time you’ve spent on the train, only waiting for the loudspeaker to announce your stop. The location you figure you were given led you to a rather remote area, likely in the outskirts of Yokohama. If not further. The man had told you he was locked underground, completely isolated from everything.

You found that part the most unsettling. If they needed that many security measures to keep him in place, it was likely he was completely gone. Gone beyond saving. If he had succumbed that much to his own grief and madness, it would be a question of whether he would still remember you or not. 

You look out the window again, enjoying your last moments of peace.

This is the eerie calm before the storm, isn’t it?

Moments after you think that, the train halts to a stop at the last station in Yokohama, and you get off. Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, and you’re not sure if you can stop it.

You try your best to remain calm. Force yourself to keep going. He’s special to you. You can’t lose him, even if you hate him. You need him. He’s the only one who still cares. 

And above all, he’s the only one who remembers you at all.

And so, you go. You take all the correct turns. You try to walk as quickly as you could, to arrive at the destination. You keep going, and going and going until…

You’re here.

It’s one of the better buildings on the outskirts of the city, yet… it looks incredibly unsettling. It’s a mundane building, one made from standard concrete, and glass. Yet. As you stand so close, you see cracks in the building. The door is partially cracked as well. 

Well, I’m here already. Whatever happens, happens. I may die in there, still, before I die, I have to know the answer. The answer… why can’t I remember? Chuuya. I want him to tell me, what he did to me. Why he came to my apartment every day. Why he’s… he’s…..

Oh. My hands are shaking. Surely I cannot be this terrified can I? I will do this even if it kills me.

You pull the door open and enter the building. The piece of paper told you that it was on the lowest floor. Your footsteps echo in the empty building, and it feels creepy no one is here.

Huh. Gives some Deja Vu, doesn’t it?

You proceed towards the elevator at the end of the hall, and press the down button. Almost instantly, the elevator makes a “ding” noise, and the doors open. You quickly step in and look for the lowest button. With a deep breath, you push the button, and the door closes.

You stare at your face in the mirror. You look terrible. Pale and your hair is completely dishevelled and a mess. If you didn’t know any better, you’d look like you were sick. You had been extremely anxious about this for an entire day, after all.

The elevator doors once again slide open. 

Here goes nothing. You sigh. I’d better hear you talking today, Chuuya. You have a lot to tell me. And you’d better tell me it all.

You step outside the elevator. There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing, and no one here. The halls are empty, and the strong scent of stale air, combined with dust fills your nostrils. You feel like coughing for a second, but you hold yourself back. You didn’t want to make any noise to give away your presence. You take another step.

Despite what the man said, it was clear that there was no one else there. No prison guards, no other cells inside. It was clearly a floor made, simply to detain one individual in particular. Isolated, and secure enough that they’d never be able to escape. Deep enough underground that they’d never even know where they were.

Your footsteps tap loudly against the concrete and echo everywhere around. As you walk down the hall, the lightbulbs behind you light up. The man had told you it was in the deepest part of the prison. However, what he didn’t account for, was that you had no idea how this floor was organized. 

Not to mention it was starting to get creepy really quickly. Although there should be nothing else in here, you were starting to get the sense that there was something dangerous that might lurk in the air. You tell yourself it’s probably just the dark and your own fatigue and you were imagining things.

The emptiness of the entire building creeps you out. It’s eerie. It feels like you were lead into the wrong location, and you were walking into a dead end. It almost felt almost like a trap that you had been lured into. And every second, the floor grew significantly more eerie. The lack of any presence and the darkness despite the very few lightbulbs attached to the ceiling enhanced that. 

I should be getting close now… right?

You were. You could see a light at the end of this hallway, which was illuminated with an orange light. It must have been where Chuuya’s cell was. There was no other place as illuminated as this, and there was no reason for it to be.

You had gotten this far. There was no reason you should be stopping now. Should you? The answer… you had always looked for, you could get it now.

Chuuya always hid something from me. He has never answered once, one of my questions. He’s never told me why he comes to my house every day, he never told me once why he was gone. For as long as I remember, I’ve been coming back from my job, and seeing him there. But one day, he disappeared. No reason why, no reason of how. He just did.

But apart from my job, there’s another piece missing to this puzzle. There’s something else that I’ve always wanted to ask him besides why he’s gone missing, and the explosion which I already had the answer to. He knows me, better than I know myself.

What was I before all of this happened?

I know there’s something before all of this. It just doesn’t add up. The man I saw in the mafia looked familiar. The building itself was in a place that I had felt I had been in at some time before. There’s deja vu there.

But when I first walked into the apartment, the first day before I saw Chuuya, I had jamais vu. A familiar place, that I didn’t know. And consequently, I couldn’t remember much before that. So what-

“I know you’re there, (Y/N). You’ve been standing there for quite some time.”

Shit.

Your thoughts are cut off by that voice you instantly knew. Chuuya was indeed, there. But his voice didn’t sound the same as you remember. There wasn’t any of the snarkiness, or egotistical attitude in his voice anymore. Instead, his voice was laced with aggression, and a malice that made you hesitant to even come forward.

You open your jaw to speak, but almost if Chuuya knew, he spoke before you. “I know what you’re thinking. You want to know why I left you, don’t you? I assume that someone has already told you about what happened on the day I stopped seeing you, and I’m sure you know all about the aftermath of that.”

You feel like you are doused in cold water. How did he know? Did he plan all of this. You want to open your mouth and tell him to slow down, but he continues, anyways.

“And you’ve been having deja vu for several days, too. You feel like you know the Port Mafia building, you feel like you recognize everything you saw, including my home.” Silence, as he pauses for a second. “So why don’t you… come and face me, and I’ll tell you what actually happened?”

“Chuuya-”

You hear no response. You sigh and walk towards his cell. You’re not ready to hear this, and you’re not sure you can face him.

He’s different. He’s not the same anymore. He sounds more violent, his composture is much less controlled than it was before. What…what happened to him?

And then you approach his cell. He’s got cuts everywhere, specifically the gash on his face. You instantly feel the need to run away, to get this image out of your mind. He was thin, his face was significantly more gaunt than it had been the last time you had seen him. And the most unsettling thing was how he was kept. Both arms were harshly chained to the ceiling and the wall. The chains were wrapped around his arms several times (you would assume most likely to stop him from breaking free), and they cut deeply into his arm. Then his body was also tightly bound to a chair, and his legs were bound to the chair’s legs. His body you noticed, was bound so tightly to the chair, you wonder how he still managed to breathe. Still, nothing would be as unnerving as to look at as his eyes. They were not dull per say, but they were empty. Not in the hopeless kind of way, but in the tormented sense that he had been tortured so badly that it would be unlikely he ever saw the light of day again.

Truly, he was a lost cause. You could only describe him as tortured and traumatized, as you couldn’t glance at him a second time.

“Hey. You done oogling yet?” His voice came out as almost an aggressive snarl, and you instantly look away. “Look at me.” You do your best to look at him, while trying to avoid looking at any part of his face in particular. You didn’t want to see it. Truly, you don’t want to look at him in any way whatsoever. So you settle on looking at a corner of his hair. The only thing that was still familiar to you.

“I said look at me. In the eyes.”

You don’t want to.

Chuuya sighs. “I know I probably look terrible right now, but please. Just do it. For the sake of me. Just look me in the eyes. It’ll probably be the last time I see someone for a long time.” He draws that last sentence out for longer than you expect, and you start to feel uneasy again, but you try to ignore that and ask him the question. The question you had been dying to ask for an undefined amount of time.

It’s a second before you can really bring yourself to ask it. “Chuuya. Where are my memories?” your mouth tightens… “Who am I? Why did you… do this?” You take a deep breath, to stop yourself. “Just tell me. Please.”

There’s another stretched-out pause before Chuuya responds again. “I knocked you out.”

“You… you what? N-no… you’re kidding right?” Your voice wavers slightly, before seeing Chuuya’s face again. He’s dead serious. “Why would you do this?”

“You were in danger. I couldn’t help it, alright?” He yelled, and you flinch. He takes a deep breath in again, slightly more calm, and continues. “Let me explain.”

“You were part of the Port Mafia, (Y/N). In fact, you, me, and Dazai used to be assigned to the same team all the time. Of course, it was always despicable working with Dazai. He never told us about anything, instead only telling us what to do, while he schemed about whatever he damn chose.”

“You can’t be serious…”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Do you think I’m joking right now? That I’m making a story and pulling it out of thin air for fun? You wanted answers. I’m giving them to you right now.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Chuuya ignores you and goes on. “Out of the three of us, you were always the weakest one, without a strong ability, nor any supportive abilities, however, we always had to drag you along anyways. To every mission gaven to us. Dazai would always make a plan, and we’d have to follow through. And if any of us ever messed up, we’d always get into trouble.”

“I bet you wanted to know how you got that bruise on your arm, that’s never healed, huh? Well, it’s cause you messed up one of the missions, and one of the higher-ups broke your arm. It never completely healed, and it was a warning that you should never mess up again.”

You look at your arm, where the ugly purple bruise marred your skin. It had never healed, and you couldn’t do anything heavy with it. Although it made a lot more sense than the reasoning you were told, you found this all too unreal. There was no way you were a mafia member. You were always weak. There would have been no reason for you to join. But even past the static buzzing in your brain, you could make out everything he said feeling familiar. As if your memories were just behind a wall you couldn’t break through.

“Still, I wasn’t able to do anything at the time, and Dazai didn’t care too much for you. The damned bastard treated everything and everyone like a chess piece, and played them as he wished. You were constantly treated as the runt of the three of us, and often used as the punching bag when missions weren’t successful. But, over time, you managed to become more ‘competent’ and not ‘drag us back’.”

“Of course, that all was, until the Dragon Head incident. All you need to know was that it was a bloody fight, and most of us were sent to deal with it.”

“As always, we were sent to deal with the mess. Dazai and I were obviously vanguards during the entire ordeal, and you were backup. When we had found the person behind it all, I used my own ability to kill him. We had won, but just barely.”

“You had managed to find the location of the man first, but you didn’t notify us. This person later told us that you actually refused to tell us. Ultimately, you botched Dazai’s plan, and almost destroyed an entire city, because you didn’t follow his instructions. Of course, Dazai was disappointed, even if he didn’t say anything. He essentially dismissed you, and planned to go back, and remove you from the Port Mafia. But, I didn’t want that.”

“So after a very long fight with Dazai, I managed to make a compromise with him. You would not be killed for betraying the Port Mafia, however, you wouldn’t be allowed to go back. But if I told you this, you would have rather accepted death, since the Port Mafia is the only thing you have ever known. You couldn’t go into the real world since you have no identity there.”

“So later that night, while you had looked like you were at least, partially asleep. I had no choice… but to give you severe head trauma, which would make you lose all your memories.”

There’s an unspoken silence between the two of you. You had always been told that your head was fragile. When you tried to think about your childhood or teenage years, your head would fill with static and it would hurt. Never had you ever expected it to be… this…

“You must be shocked. You probably think I’m not being serious, or that I’m joking. Well, I’m not done yet.”

“You were in a coma for years after that. For about two or three years, if I remember correctly. I had to make sure that you wouldn’t remember anything, so I bashed your head, pretty hard against the concrete. I brought you to the hospital after that, and told them that you had been injured badly, because you had attempted suicide. A balatant lie, but I couldn’t tell the doctors any more than that, otherwise I would have been detained.”

“For several years, you stayed in the hospital, completely unconscious. I’d visit you everyday, and see if you would wake up. At one point I had considered just giving up. But eventually, you did wake up. But, you didn’t have an identity in the real world, let alone education, or anything that would let you survive. When you were discharged, I paid a company to forge you a fake identity, which is what you live by now.”

“I’ve watched over you for so long, (Y/N). You once asked me what you needed to be protected from. I didn’t answer that question because I didn’t think it was the right time to let you know the truth. Alas, you’ve come searching for the truth yourself. The Port Mafia was after you for a long time. I had to constantly monitor you, you were constantly on my mind every day. And even when you were discharged from the hospital, I still had to watch over you while you slept. They wanted to kill you. I didn’t want you dead, in fact how could I?” Chuuya laughs in bitterness. “I loved you for a long time. I did all of this to make sure I’d be able to see you happy, for once. And you were. You moved into society rather nicely. You were simply not meant to be part of the Mafia, despite the potential in your ability.”

“You have the gun I left on my desk, didn’t you? You knew you had to take it because you might have been in danger.”

“Chuuya… stop.” You’re still in shock, but you know you’ll never properly remember any of your memories now. You can only trust him. Whatever he says, you have to believe. He’s not lying. He never was lying.

“That was Dazai’s gun. The gun he left before he killed himself.”

“No… please. Stop. Chuuya. Don’t do this please…”

He chuckles. “I have no merit in my future, I am simply left to rot and die here. You wouldn’t understand, (Y/N). I spent so much time in my life for you, that it would have been simpler to just kill you. But I can’t do that.”

“But in a life where you don’t return any of that to me isn’t worth living either…”

“CHUUYA,” you scream. “Stop this. Don’t…”

“So shoot me please. I know you’re dying to do it. You brought the gun with you, you wanted to kill me. I know you do. Why? You’ve reached into your pockets serveral times while I was telling your past. My life is hopeless, completely doomed. I’ve lost everything I once had, except for you. And I can’t even see you now.”

“So kill me. Put me out of my own misery.”

He smiles, in a twisted sort of way, expecting you to shoot.

“You won’t regret it.”

And it’s true. You were planning on killing him, but you don’t want to now. But if what he said was true, you were also ruthless as he was. You had to make a choice, quickly.

Your hands move faster than your mind, and you can’t stop yourself.

You shoot once. Once at his chest.

You can’t bear to see what you did.

But you also can’t see control what you were going to do next. You hear another gunshot being fired, and you weren’t if it was from yourself, or maybe someone else in the floor.

Your vision stops and you feel yourself falling to the ground.

[lostfirefly]

I'm still learning about life, my woman brought children for me, so I can sing them all my songs, and I can tell them stories

As always, this story wasn't planned to be written because I still don't know if Buggy and Catherine will have children. Anyway, I wrote a variation on the "What If" series of them having kids. Thanks to anon for the request! I had a lot of fun writing this fic. I hope you enjoy it too. The same plot is planned for Buggy and Reader. English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist is here.

Description: One morning if Buggy and Catherine had kids.

Warning: Buggy and Catherine (OC from You've Got the Same Dream as Me series). Fun, fluff, lots of love, a small references to the original story.

WC: 3320

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august, @emmiebugz-blog, @mydearlybeloathed

The title is taken from “7 Years” by Lukas Graham.

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“Okay, girls, go and pester your dad!” Catherine gently pushed the two girls into the bedroom. She opened the door to the room where a loud snoring could be heard. “See that body? Do you remember that it has something to do with you too?” 

“Daddy!!! Daddy!!!” The children ran to the bed, quickly climbed onto it and started jumping. “Wake up! Wake up!!” 

“What the hell? Who is this? Leave me alone!!” Buggy waved his hand, mumbling in a sleepy voice. 

“You're so funny!!” One of the girls laughed loudly and pocked Buggy in his head. “That's us!! Evelyn and Aurora!! Wake up!!!” They started tickling him.

“Leave me alone!! I’m sleeping! Cotton candy-y-y!!!” Buggy roared into the pillow.

“Don't yell, my love, I'm here.” Catherine leaned over the doorway and watched a cute child act of terrorism.

“Da-a-d!” Aurora grabbed Buggy’s arm and tried to lift it up. “You’re so heavy! Get up!! We made you breakfast! Mom taught us to cook your favorite dish!” 

“Fu~!” Buggy rolled onto his back, barely opened his eyes and looked at the two little bodies jumping on him. 

They were his daughters. His and Catherine's daughters. The eldest was Evelyn, Buggy named her after Catherine's mother. A 6 years old girl with blue hair like his and his green eyes. The youngest was Aurora. She was born in March at dawn. And Catherine suggested the name because it was associated with her favorite subjects - goddess and mythology. Of course, Buggy couldn't refuse her. Aurora was 5. With red hair and beautiful green-blue eyes as if the color of his and Catherine's eyes crossed together.

Buggy adored his daughters. Yes, he grumbled when they sat him down to play with dolls and had doll tea parties, he grumbled when they braided his hair, he grumbled when they asked him to show chop chop tricks. The first time the girls saw his powers, they were very scared. Buggy and Catherine were sitting in the bedroom, remembering their morning by the fire, when Catherine admired his chop chop thing. The girls unexpectedly ran into the room to give his dad an evening hug, and saw Buggy was sitting on the bed without an arm. Evelyn and Aurora became scared even more when they saw Catherine with his arm in her hands. Catherine had to calm them all down that evening. First the children, explaining to them that daddy's powers were cool, and then all night she spent calming down a sobbing Buggy, who thought the kids thought he was a monster. 

Within a couple of days, the girls were already asking to show them chop chop tricks. Buggy refused for a long time at first, afraid to scare them again, but he gave in under the pressure of four beautiful eyes. Catherine made her daughters promise not to tell anyone about their daddy's chop chop. Buggy admired this. She continued to protect him. She continued to find time for him, visiting him at the circus, throwing parties and organizing picnics. Yes, life had changed a little, but Buggy admired the fact that Catherine tried to preserve the atmosphere of their relationship before they had children. He loved it when she came to him with sandwiches, loved it when she dragged him out for walks to spend time together. Buggy loved to watch when Catherine, Aurora and Evelyn sat on the couch and read books. His three most beloved women in the world. The only thing he was very worried about was that his daughters both inherited his nose. 

As Buggy watched the children attack him, memories came flooding back to him. 7 years ago, he walked into the bedroom and saw Catherine sobbing in the chair. At first, he was scared that he had done something wrong, until she told him that she was pregnant. For several hours Buggy was in the same shock as she was, but they talked and decided that they wanted to keep the child. The pregnancy was difficult. Catherine cried constantly and was constantly nauseous. Buggy tried to support her as best he could, but it didn't always work out. They would occasionally have big fights because Catherine's hormones made her yell at Buggy for every misdeed and then cry because she yelled at him. And he didn't always know how to react correctly. The birth was difficult. Very difficult. Catherine lost a lot of blood. Evelyn was born weak and spent some time in a special box. Buggy was really afraid he would lose his wife and his daughter in one day. When Buggy took Evelyn in his arms and saw her red nose, he became upset. Catherine noticed his sad expression and started crying again. When they came back home at first they were completely at a loss because they had no idea how to handle children. Nothing Catherine had read in books was much help. Evelyn cried all the time and drove them crazy. Catherine hardly slept or ate, and lost a lot of weight. She constantly cursed Buggy for the day he attacked her when he came home from tour. But over time, everything got better. 

A year later, three weeks after celebrating the "you didn't leave me in the desert" anniversary, Catherine began to feel sick again. The second pregnancy and the birth were even more difficult than the first. The situation that was with Evelyn practically repeated itself with Aurora. They spent several days in the hospital again, and Buggy never left Catherine's side, holding her hand the whole time. He would never admit, of course, that he was worried and afraid of losing her. After they came back from the hospital, Catherine lay in bed for three months and cried constantly. Buggy tried to tolerate her mood swings as she always did with his mood swings. Catherine appreciated his support, although she had a hard time with the recovery period. But Buggy did great. He helped Catherine with kids using his chop chop abilities. He brought her the most unusual fruits and flowers. She had never heard so many words of love addressed to her, even in periods of anger when Catherine threatened to bury Buggy's dick somewhere in a sarcophagus. It had been a difficult time for both of them. But as always Catherine told him, “Our crew got out of this storm too.” And now his two daughters were jumping around him, and his beloved wife was standing in the doorway.

“Well, get up, daddy!!” Evelyn pushed Buggy in the shoulder. 

“Mother fu~!” Buggy tried to restrain his swearing in front of the children, but it didn't always work. “Girls, why don't you pester that red-haired woman in the corner?” He pointed at Catherine with his arm. 

“Because they helped that red-haired woman make your favorite pancakes. Now it's your turn to suffer.” Catherine laughed. 

“Yes, we also made up a song.” Evelyn squeaked, jumping on the bed. “Mom said that you like songs.”

“A song for me?” Buggy looked at his daughters in surprise. 

“Yes! Listen!” Aurora stood up on the bed, waved her hair and started singing. “We-e-e're making pancakes for daddy, because he loves this food so-o-o mu-u-uch. We-e-e-e'll pour a lot of syrup on them, and then we'll bring dad to the kitchen.” 

“Bravo!!!” Catherine clapped her hands. 

“This is the best song in the world!” Buggy joined in her applause and watched as the girls began to jump on him even harder with joy. 

“Show us chop chop tricks!! Chop chop tricks!! Chop chop tricks!!!” Aurora sat on the bed and started pushing Buggy in the shoulder. He didn't know whether to grumble or smile, because at these moments she reminded him of Catherine, who, even after many years of relationship, tugged at his shoulders in the same way.

“No, no chop chop things before breakfast!” Catherine shook her head, throwing Buggy’s shirt over her shoulders. 

“But mo-o-om!!” Evelyn pouted and crossed her arms.

“Oh, come on, Cathie-pie! Hey, my sweet cakes, look!” Buggy separated his hand and sent it to the drawer for chocolate chip cookies. Amid the girls' delighted sighs, a hand brought a box. “Here you go. These are mom's stash, the most delicious cookies in the world!”

“Chop chop! Chop chop!” The girls clapped their hands happily. “Our dad is the best because he has his chop chop!!” 

“Okay! Evy, Aurora. Stop jumping on your dad, we still need him. I still need him. Better go to the kitchen and put the plates on the table, we'll be there in a minute.” Catherine went to the bed and pushed her daughters by the shoulders. 

“Wait, mom! We want to kiss daddy!!” The girls started kissing Buggy on the cheeks, and he pulled them close. “We love you-u-u till the moon and back, and ten thousand more times around!!”

“Love you too, my sweet cakes.” 

“Don't choke daddy, girls." Catherine watched as Buggy kissed his daughters on the cheeks. “That's it, Evelyn, Aurora. Go to the kitchen. Now.” 

“Aurora, come on!” Evelyn grabbed her sister's hand. “Mom and dad need to kiss!”

“Eww, they don't do that!” Aurora made a face and I stuck out her tongue in disgust. “They can't kiss. That's for young people! Our dad is old!” 

“They do, they do.” Evy nodded. “I saw it! Yesterday! When they were in the kitchen. They kissed like adults!!” 

“Ew, ew, ew! Stop it! I don't want to see it!!” Aurora closed her eyes and ran out of the bedroom squealing. 

“See? Aurora even screws up her face like you!” Catherine laughed, sat down on the bed and began to stroke Buggy's head. "Good morning, my blue-haired love." Smack. “You owe me cookies.”

“Morning, cotton candy.” Buggy glanced at Catherine’s pants. “Sheep on your pajama pants today. I like it.” He sat down on the bed and put one arm around Catherine's waist. “No! Aurora's your exact replica.”

"Are you kidding me, clown?” Smack. “She only has the color of her hair from me. Our children are copies of you, Buggy. I knew that life would punish me for falling in love with you.”

“It's not true. They took their beauty from you. And my terrible nose.” Buggy exhaled sadly. “They will be offended because of this. It’s my fault. If I was no~”

Catherine put her finger to his lips. “Don't say such terrible things about the man I love. You have a beautiful nose. And it doesn't spoil you or them. And I know their dad won't allow anyone to hurt his daughters.” Smack. “I'm glad that they took your distinctive feature. I even envy you. You have the same characters, beautiful noses, they have your eyes, It seems as if I'm not from your family.”

“If you want, we can start making a third one today, one that will look like you." Buggy pulled her close, winked and kissed her on the lips, feeling Catherine immediately wrapped her arms around his neck.

“See? I told you! They're kissing! Like adults!” Evelyn's whisper came from behind the half-open door. 

“E-e-e-e-e-eww!!!!”  

“Close the door!!” Catherine answered sternly, but calmly.

The door slammed, and loud laughter came from behind it. 

“Don't you miss it? The times when it was just you and me?” Catherine stroked Buggy’s hair. 

“Well, we can always give our kids to another family or a fucking traveling circus if we get tired of them.” Buggy kissed her on her forehead.  

“Dear god, Buggy!! First you wanted to leave me in the desert, and now you're suggesting we give the kids to a traveling circus?” 

“Fuck! It's been 11 years since the desert. I didn't leave you!” Buggy kissed her on the lips, nestled in her armpit and sighed. 

“What happened, little bear?” Catherine kissed the top of his head. 

“It's so weird. You, Evy, Aurora. I have a real family now.” 

“You deserve it all, my silly clown. I'm so proud of you. You're a wonderful father. And I'm glad we didn't turn into boring parents and we still find time for each other. Oh! Let's drop the kids off at Cabaji and Mohji tomorrow, and spend some time together?” 

“And go for your stupid walk? Ok.” Buggy took Catherine’s hand and kissed it. “How did I even have kids?”

“I warned you, asshole. If you continue attacking me without well.. you know.. it won't end well one day. See? I was right. Two girls.” Catherine smacked him on his head again. 

Buggy looked at her. It seemed unusual to him that even after 11 years of relationship, his endless screw-ups and getting into trouble (he still does, by the way), Catherine looked at him exactly the same way as on the day he picked her up from the airport. 

“You're so beautiful, Cathie-pie.” Buggy said quietly and kissed her hands.

“It's not true. I'm old and there are more wrinkles around my eyes. Because one handsome clown still makes me laugh every day.” 

“Just laugh? You offended me to the core, baby. And there’s still something else I can do if you’ve forgotten what happened the day before yesterday.” He sat on his knees and tried to kiss her neck.

“Are you crazy? Not now, Buggy!” Catherine pecked him on his nose. “Let's go to the kitchen before our daughters destroy everything.” She kissed him on the lips, took his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. They entered the room and saw Evelyn and Aurora diligently laying out forks. 

“Let's do like mom, Evy! She always sings when she sets the table.” They began to hum a melody. “We-e-e’re setting the plate-e-e-es, we are gonna eat pancake-e-es.”

“You are so good, girls!” Catherine clapped her hands. “Now everyone quickly sits down!” She kissed the girls on the head. As Catherine poured juice and coffee, she watched with an edge of her eye as Buggy squatted down next to his daughters to adjust Evy’s glasses and stroke Aurora's hair. Catherine smiled, put plates with pancakes on the table and sat down next to Buggy, watching as he happily began to eat the food. “Tasty?” She started stroking his head. 

“It's been tastier for eleven years now, Cathie-pie.” Buggy sipped his coffee, chewing his breakfast with a full mouth.

“Oh, dad!” Aurora mumbling with a mouthful of food. “Tell us our new favorite fairy tale again. About the brave Prince and the Sand Monster!!” 

“What?” Catherine looked at three chewing faces in a row.

“Yesterday,” Evelyn poked at the pancakes with her fork, also chattering with her mouth full, “in the evening dad told us a fairy tale about Prince Bara Bara and the Sand Monster. Now this is our second favorite fairy tale, after the story about the prison and the nasty rubber boy.”

“How interesting. Was there a Princess in this sand story?” Catherine took a sip of coffee, took one pancake and looked at Buggy. 

“Yes!” Evy nodded. “Princess Candy was the most beautiful girl in the world and she was in danger. And Prince Bara Bara saved her several times. They were in the desert and were looking for a cave with treasures. Because the princess wanted to find the stone of love.” Evy sighed romantically. “The stone of love.. And along the way, they had riddles and adventures!!” 

“Can you imagine, mom?!” Aurora splashed her hands with emotion. “Riddles and adventures!” 

“Can’t be! And what else happened in this fairy tale?” Catherine rested her elbow on the table and placed her chin on her hands.

“Oh, there were a lot of interesting things.” Evy ate another pancake and continued telling the story with almost full mouth. “There was a Sand Monster. He also wanted to find the treasure. The stone of power! The Monster threatened Princess Candy and took her prisoner, he hoped the Prince would lead him to the treasure. But Prince Bara Bara wasn't afraid of him! Bara Bara scared away the Monster with a sword and saved Princess Candy. She was so scared and cried like a child when she realized that she was safe next to the fearless and delightful Bara Bara. But the Sand Monster didn't give up and was chasing Bara Bara and Candy on a flying dragon!” Evelyn told the story with a passion. 

“On a flying dragon?” Catherine rounded her eyes and glanced at Buggy, who was eating his breakfast calmly. 

“Don't interrupt, mom!” Evy squealed. “Yes, on the dragon. But the Prince was not afraid of him and simply chased him away. But as I said the Sand Monster didn't give up and followed them to the cave with treasures. Princess Candy was scared and constantly hid behind Prince Bara Bara.” Both daughters signed romantically in unison. “This is not surprising. He was so brave and handsome. Oh, oh! The Prince was also very smart and easily solved all the riddles!” 

“Really?!” Catherine didn’t know how not to laugh. She looked at Buggy, who was refilling his daughters' juice with a nonchalant face.

“Thanks, dad! Yes, mom!” Aurora nodded and sipped her juice. “Bara Bara was very brave and smart. He was not afraid of a-ny-thing. And when he saved the Princess for the thirtieth time…”

Catherine choked on her coffee. “The thirtieth???”

“Yes! Don't be surprised, mom!” Evy staring at Catherine not understanding her surprise. “Princess Candy was always getting into trouble, and Prince Bara Bara was forced to help her. And then, when they reached the cave and were about to find the treasure, Princess Candy misread one sign on the wall of the cave and ruined everything. No wonder, she wasn't very smart, apparently.”

“Yep, not very smart.” Aurora nodded and ate two pancakes.

“Oh, oh!” Evy clapped her hands. “And when the cliff, where they were looking for treasure, began to collapse, the Prince grabbed the Princess in his arms.”

“Really?” Catherine leaned back on the chair and crossed her arms. 

“Yes! Princess Candy was frightened and cried. She was afraid to jump herself. So, Bara Bara grabbed her and jumped into the abyss with her. He's so brave, mom!!” The girls sighed and rolled their eyes dreamily. “Prince Bara Bara captivated Princess Candy with his charm and she couldn't help but fall in love with him. Dad told the story better. Come to our room tonight and listen to it, mom. Daddy, you'll tell it again tonight, won't you?”

Buggy nodded. 

“Oh, I'll be there for sure.” Catherine laughed.

“Oh, oh!” Evy snapped her fingers. “Dad said that the Princess wanted to leave for her kingdom, but the Prince stopped her. You see? She found love without the stone. The Prince proposed to the Princess and took her to his castle. I bet they are happy together like you and dad. I bet you must have an interesting dating history, too.”

“Something like this.” Buggy looked at Catherine and winked. 

“Prince Bara Bara is wonderful, isn't he, mom? I wish I could meet someone like him.” Aurora put her chin on her hands and signed. “Handsome and brave.” 

Catherine giggled, watching Buggy blush as he ate pancakes. “What a wonderful story! Agree, from what I heard Bara Bara was a very brave and wonderful man.” She began to stroke his back. “And although he was sometimes a dreamer, the Princess didn't stand a chance. I'm sure Princess Candy is very happy with her Bara Bara in his castle and she loves him very much. So much so that she forgives him a lot.” 

“You have to admit, Cathie-pie, he was a cool guy.” Buggy crossed his arms and looked at smiling Catherine. 

“Why was? I’m sure, he’s still cool!” Catherine moved closer to Buggy, kissed him on the lips, saying quietly. “I love you, my Prince Bara Bara.” 

“I love you too, my Princess Candy.” He kissed her back. 

“I told you, they kiss!” Evy whispered. 

“E-e-e-e-ew!!!”

[mikeyisbrooklyn]

We’ve got a part two!! I teased a bit of this earlier and cranked out the rest in the waking moments since! Read the first bit here!

A bit of housekeeping: This will be going up on AO3 after the enter fic is done. What I’m posting now are somewhat drafts and once I’ve boiled it down to a final version I’m happy with, the official version will be released there (and here, of course).

Warnings this go round: vomit and nausea (I swear guys it’s only meant as narrative symbolism for a character’s emotional volatility I don’t actually like throw up), self loathing (seriously, it’s a bit heavy)

And of course, the tags: @on-a-lucky-tide @etanesnil @jgvfhl @roachs-pet-roach

Without further ado,

Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (2)

Price wasn’t surprised when he seamlessly slipped into sleep in his hospital bed sometime around early evening after the expected visits from Gaz, Ghost, and Soap—he even got a call from Kate. What did surprise Price was waking up under the cloudy pitch black night in Nik’s arms.

The veritable squawk that left Price’s mouth would’ve turned his face red if Nik’s warm chest wouldn’t have already. In panic, he wrapped his arms around Nik’s neck and hid his face in the Russian’s collarbone.

“Careful, rodnoy, if you jostle too much I will drop you.” Nik chuckled as he tightened his grip—one arm wrapped under Price’s legs, careful not to agitate the cast covering the right one, and the other warmly around his shoulders. It was, for all intents and purposes, a bridal carry. Price squawked again when he realized.

“When you make these noises you sound—how do you like to say—precious.” Nik teased as he shifted Price’s weight, carrying the crippled man in one arm like it was nothing, just long enough to reach into his car and pull out a pack that he promptly threw over his shoulder.

“Go fuck yerself, why are you carrying me?“ Price growled. He dared to look around and saw, thankfully, nary a soul. He stared at a Victorian-style house surrounded by quite the large yard space, there was a long gravel road that led away from the home down a hill—presumably where they had come from if the fresh tracks meant anything. “And what posh bird did you steal this place from?”

“Messy arms dealer. Scared off one of my usuals and ran away to Florida when he knew I was looking for him.” Nik closed the car door and started walking to the house with Price in his arms. “Still found him.” He said through a grin. The implication needn’t be spoken, Price knew well enough what that entailed and shivered—but not out of fear. If Price was a disgusting bastard who was touched in the head, that was his business alone.

Once inside, Nik gently set Price down on a couch longer than the length of his office and softer than any bed he’d ever touched—let alone slept in. He even felt himself sink into a bit.

“Bloody hell, was it a dealer or a duchess?” Incredulous at how the interior was even more haughty than the exterior. Dark oak coffee table larger than many dining tables he’d seen. Paintings to fill empty space on the paneled walls and taxidermied game as trophies. A wall-hung flatscreen TV that he likely couldn’t even get on a year’s of his captain’s salary. There was even a bowl of potpourri that gave the huge living area a thick reek of citrus, herbs, and flower petals.

“Da. It is nice, a bit—ah, hm, prissy, but fit for a clown who thinks himself noble.”

Price frowned. “Calling me a clown, Nik?”

Nik belly laughed. “Well you are expert at making me laugh. But nyet,” He reached back and—aw, hell, that was a fleece blanket—Price didn’t have the chance to fight it as Nik all but trapped him in the heavy, warm thing. “I only wanted the best, for you. Will make recovery quicker, no?”

Nik kissed Price’s forehead as he tucked the blanket around him. He knew it was intended as act of romance or affection but it made him feel as if he were a sickly boy. In response, Price turned red and felt that lurch at the bottom of his stomach. Worried he would vomit again, he hurriedly turned his face away from Nik and tucked it into a couch cushion.

Nik pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “John? Are you alright, mishka?” He went to grab Price’s chin to lock eyes with him but Price resisted, which prompted Nik to immediately drop his hand and scrunch his face in confusion and worry. “Wh—“

The word didn’t finish forming before Price barked out a “‘M fine! Tired.” Still muffled by the couch. He slightly turned enough to look at Nik with one eye, his words becoming clearer. “Jus’ woke up ‘n all. Need ta rest my eyes…more.” He was gruff and curt with it, though his nervous energy bled out at the end.

He hated the analyzing gaze from those big brown eyes above him. Nik was no dunce, he knew well how smart the madman was. It was one of the plethora of tools and methods he watched the man use to steal his heart. But blessedly, he didn’t press him for once, instead nodding and pursing his lips before rising up fully from besides Price.

“Da, rest. I will bring the rest of our things inside. Then, dinner.” Nik softly caressed Price’s hair, hesitating on one stroke of the rich brown as if he were holding the most precious treasure.

“‘M not—“

“Hungry?” This time, Nik cut Price off and with a knowing smirk. “Then it will be light dinner. You will eat, rodnoy.” There was no room for argument and Price knew it so he let out a reluctant grunt.

Just under an hour later, Price is halfway dozing off when a warm hand lands on his shoulder. “Prosypaysya, rodnoy.” It ought to be criminal how such a deep voice with razor sharp edge can turn so soft and silky. At least, Price thinks as much when he rouses to those big Labrador eyes Nik carries around. More dangerous than any weapon he could ever get his hands on.

Price remembers when he first looked into those eyes more than a decade ago. At the time, he thought his nerves were just a natural result of knowing he would had been face to face with a man M16 warned him could kill him with a rusty screw; nerves from something some liquid courage and a stony facade on his face could handle. But in hindsight it’s so clear that he’s simply never looked into deeper irises before. Sincerity so deep he could sink into it for an eternity and never reach the bottom, but not oppressive like stormy seas, welcoming—enticing, even—like a flowing creek, leading from a freshwater spring. To find out—slowly, over the years—that the man was just as enticing. Loyal. Reliable. Resourceful. Steadfast. Ruthless in the right ways, at least to Price, anyway. He doesn’t blame himself for initially thinking he was so drawn to Nik because he wanted to be like him.

But no, he knows now—just as he did mere months ago when he finally came out and confessed, halfway through a shared bottle of that battery acid Nik called vodka and far too gone to worry if it were wrong to say—he always loved Nik. It was only a matter of time before he realized it. And it’s in moments like these where he feels that realization crash into him full force just like it did the first time.

Nik’s hand moved from Price’s shoulder to his cheek. “Mishka, you are staring. Are you with me?” Price could see the smallest crease in the man’s smile, something like worry but tiny like a hair fracture in a vase. Price hated that, whatever it was, so much so that it shook him out of his reverie. He blinked twice and took a deep breath.

“Aye. I’m ‘ere.”

“Good. Dinner is ready. Hold still,” Nik pulled off the blanket and reached to pick Price up. Reacting quickly, Price nearly swatted Nik’s arms away. Thankfully, he realized in the last moment he’d look like a prick for it and opted to instead grab Nik’s arms instead. Nik froze at the sudden movement.

“I—I can…” Damn him, why was he stuttering? He cleared his throat. “Lemme walk there. Need ta get my practice in with these crutches sometime.”

“Doctor said you need only rest for the first weeks.” It was a reminder but to Price it sounded like a scold. Price wasn’t fond of being scolded.

“The dining room in another zip code or somethin’?”

“N-nyet?”

“Then I’ll survive a walk there on crutches at least. Relax.” Price harrumphed as he sat up and managed to hold in a wince, looking past Nik looking for the walking aids in question.

Nik was speechless and looked confused and…and something else that Proce recognized and felt sick when he did. That damn worry. He hates that micro-look on Nik’s face. He hates it. He hates it. He hates—

Price clears his throat to forcibly derail that train of thought. With more force in his voice than necessary, “Nik, you did bring the crutches in, yeah?”

“Da, da. I—are you sure, I do not mind—“

“I know you don’t and ‘m still sure. You can catch me if it looks like ‘m ’bout to go ass over tea kettle, sound fair?”

Nik hesitated for another moment before nodding. Without another word he walked out the living room but only for a few seconds, walking back in with two crutches. He looked at the things like they slapped his father and called his mother a street girl as he handed them off to Price.

Price grunted in thanks as he put them under his arms and stood up best he could. It was a bit of a struggle at first but this wasn’t Price’s first rodeo, so he recovered and managed quickly. That didn’t stop Nik from reaching his arms out, ready to catch Price in a split second if needed. Still, once he took a few hobbled steps, Price was well in his own rhythm with the only nuisance being Nik’s hovering.

Though he grumbled a bit, Price did let Nik pull his chair out for him. It’s not like the Russian hadn’t done so before; it’s amazing how a sadistic mongrel could become the perfect gentleman given the right motivation. And the similarities to dates prior didn’t end there. With a plate of balsamic butter steak and mash with asparagus in front of him, Price wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard brought out wine and lit candles.

Price ate into his food, knowing Nik was watching across the table, more preoccupied on Price’s enjoyment of the food rather than eating himself. For what it was worth, it was positively divine. Everything Nik cooked was, frankly, and Price swore that the man’s favorite part of every meal was watching Price confirm that again and again with groans of pleasure. And Price was more than happy to oblige. So why…why did Nik’s eyes on him feel so…irritating? That wasn’t the right word but Price couldn’t put his finger on what was. It was on the tip of his tongue but more importantly, a juicy steak was taking up that same space and distracting him. Conflicting emotions be damned—good food is good food—and, as always, Price made his pleasure known with a borderline orgasmic groan.

“Ah, you like it. Good.” Nik seems to sigh in relief rather than satisfaction. It was only then that he felt comfortable digging in himself.

“‘Course I like it, never haven’t liked your cooking.” Price said as he wiped his face with a napkin. “What made you think this time would be different?”

Nik looked up and finished chewing, swallowing and then looking askance for a split second before meeting Price’s eyes. Price knew that look like the back of his hand: Nik was about to say something he knew Price didn’t want to hear. Price preemptively frowned.

“Blyat, you did not even let me answer and you already—“ Nik sighed, resigning to instead just answer the question, “you have been, ah—cranky. I did not know you would allow yourself to enjoy the food.”

Price’s frown deepened. He had many things he wanted to say. Adamant denials. Indignant swears. But at his core, he knew had been a prick. Nik had carried him inside, tucked him in, made him dinner, been nothing but a bloody fucking gentleman and he hadn’t even said a single thank you. He knows just how many pretty young things would be straight fawning and tripping over themselves for this kind of treatment. But that was the problem wasn’t it? Price was no pretty young thing. He was crotchety bastard with a perpetual pout. And more importantly, he didn’t want to be pampered, didn’t want to be…be something that Nik needed to take care of.

For two decades now, Price had prided himself on his self-sufficiency. Even with his back against a wall and with the shit hitting every fan, he could take care of himself, probably lift the whole world on his shoulders while he was at it. And he knew Nik had a similar disposition—hell, Nik could probably run laps around Price. The man had to choose between his home and his soul and nearly lost both and still came back from it.

So Nik knew, he knew how important it was that Price be able to take care of himself. He’d been the same damn way. So why was he doing all of this? Did he feel obligated to it, to him? Was it just because of this new thing between them—it was hardly new as it had been a long time coming and it was much more than a thing but there wasn’t a title that didn’t feel childish or redundant to Price—and Nik felt like he had to show up in this way? The man had not made any effort to hide his affinity for romance since they had begun getting serious with each other, but was this really just more of that same quixotic chivalry? Or…

Or was it because he didn’t think Price could take care of himself? That couldn’t be it, Nik made it a habit to shower Price with praises for his accolades. But then again, Price had just nearly got himself killed. Maybe Nik didn’t want to be believe it but he was always a practical man, figured that Price was slipping and that he needed to swoop in and take the rest from there. Of course, of course! It’s why he insisted Price stay with him in this wannabe chateau rather than his own flat back home or at that wretched hospital with the trained professionals to nurse him back to health. It explained those quite literally gut-wrenching looks Nik kept giving him in brief moments, a sickening worry that actually made Price sick. Nik, the fixer who could take care of any problem thrown his way, had to be able to see an issue before it could develop beyond its early stages. So it meant he could see that Price was gonna be a problem, could see that Price was a—

Liability.

Price retched onto the table.

“Jonathan!” Nik rushed over to Price’s side and it was only then that he even realized he threw up. Nik was quick to grab something, probably a tea cloth, to wipe Price’s face with as he pulled his chair away from the table—and his own sick.

“I should not have made you eat, I am sorry, so sorry.” Price had never heard Nik like this before. Even when Gaz was sent flying out of his heli with nothing but a rope and some damn good luck he stayed grounded enough to make semi-coherent sentences. Here and now, he was bumbling through a dozen different apologies in half as many languages.

“‘M fine.” Price croaked out. He didn’t even expect Nik to respond but the Russian paused and looked at Price like he grew a second head.

“Cyka blyat! You are not fine, Jonathan! Please, ne deris’, let me help Mishka, I am begging.” Nik was literally on his knees in front of Price, hands on both of Price’s cheeks.

Price hated that desperate look on his face. Like Price was dying in front of Nik and he was helpless to stop it. Nik was never helpless for anything and now he is because of Price? Because of Price’s fuck up, his inability to keep his shit together.

He needed to let Nik do this. Let the man nurse him back to health so he’d stop looking so damn distressed, so Price would stop fucking ruining him like this. Then, then after he could walk on his own, Price’ll make it better. He’ll be better.

So he went limp, let himself fall into Nik’s arms like putty. Let Nik carry him to the fancy bathroom and clean him fully. Let himself be tucked into the nicest bed he’s ever seen and laid still for several minutes while Nik left—clearly to clean up Price’s mess. Then he let himself be wrapped in the warmest arms and pressed into a chest he’d take as a pillow any day. Price knew this would be the majority of his life for the next one or two months and if he were a better man he could enjoy it. Let himself have this one nice thing. But he was not a better man, he was liability, and every second of this ran the risk of ruining all that Nik was. So he would endure, he would do what he could to keep that from happening, and when it was over, he would never let himself do this to Nik again.

He’d rather die.