#Stockpiling Mission

[fogaminghub]

🐜✨ Master the Stockpiling Mission in Empire of the Ants! 🌟 Gather resources, build your colony, and defend against all enemies with our detailed guide. Are you ready to take your gaming skills to the next level? Check it out now!  

[ladyymiisa]

PINCH ‘EM!

summary: katsuki just loves your cheeks!

tags: katsuki bakugo x fem!reader, fluff, katsuki is a tease

author’s note: starting the new year off strong with katsuki fluff!! i luv him sm

if there’s one thing about you that drives katsuki absolutely insane on a daily basis, it’s your cheeks.

those soft, round, ridiculously cute, rosy cheeks that make his brain glitch like an old vending machine. they give him such violent cuteness aggression that he’s genuinely considered throwing himself off a rooftop just to reset. it’s humiliating, really, how much power your dumb face has over him.

but watching you eat? that’s a whole other level of torture. the way your cheeks puff out with every bite, like you’re stockpiling food for winter, makes his eye twitch in equal parts annoyance and affection. he calls you chipmunk, because honestly, you might as well be one. it’s absurd, it’s irrational, and it’s ruining his life. but here he is, still watching, still obsessed, like the fool he is.

“kats—ow!” you whine mid food gulp, flinching as his fingers suddenly latch onto your cheeks like a crab on a mission. with zero warning, he starts squishing and pulling them, treating your face like it’s his own personal stress toy. “what the hell are you doing?”

you manage to gripe, trying to pry his hands off your poor, defenseless cheeks. your words are muffled as he stretches them in every direction, but he doesn’t bother answering. he’s far too focused on whatever weird satisfaction he’s getting from turning your face into putty in his hands.

“try that again,” he growls, giving your cheeks another firm pinch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. “and i’ll squeeze ‘em even harder.”

you glare at him, your face still trapped in his grip. it’s hard to take him seriously when his smug smirk is stretched across his face like he just won the lottery. however, it’s clear that your discomfort is his entertainment, and it makes you want to bite back, but you can’t seem to muster the energy to do so.

meanwhile, katsuki is having the time of his life. it’s not his fault your skin is so damn malleable, like some kind of stress ball he can just squish and pull at his leisure. with every pinch, your face contorts in the most ridiculous ways, and it only makes his shit-eating smirk grow wider, as if he’s proud of the mess he’s making.

“y’look so stupid,” he mutters under his breath, loud enough for you to hear, though it sounds more like he’s speaking to himself. “stupid chipmunk,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost fond.

before you can even process what’s happening, his face is in front of yours, and with no warning, he plants a big, exaggerated smooch right on your lips. it’s awkward, considering how he’s still squishing your cheeks together, making your lips pucker out like a weird fish, but somehow, you can’t help but find it endearing.

then he does it again, this time a bit harder. and again. and again. each kiss lands wherever he can reach—your lips, your nose, your forehead, even your eyelids—like he’s trying to cover every inch of your face. you feel warmth spread across your chest from the tenderness of his gestures, even if they’re a little ridiculous. despite the absurdity of the situation, there’s something unexpectedly sweet about the way he’s so gentle with you, even when he’s teasing you relentlessly.

you’re about to tease him right back for being such a softie, ready to throw out a playful jab when, of course, he just has to ruin the moment.

“ew, katsuki!” you yelp, your voice high-pitched with surprise as he suddenly sinks his teeth into your right cheek. it’s not hard enough to hurt, more like a playful nip, but it’s wet and the way his tongue shamelessly flickers against the bite mark sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. you try to push him off, but he’s latched onto you like some feral animal.

“seriously?!” you gasp, squirming in his grip, but he remains completely unbothered. “this is disgusting! my cheek’s all wet now!” you cry, twisting and turning in his arms, trying to wipe the saliva off with your shoulder.

“serves you right for biting my shoulder earlier. y’thought i’d forget? hah.” he says with a wicked smirk, leaning back just enough to admire the mess he’s made of your face—flustered, pouty, and still glistening with the aftermath of his attack.

you groan, smacking his chest in frustration, but the bastard doesn’t even flinch. in fact, he looks proud of himself.

“you’re the absolute worst, katsuki bakugo.” you glare at him, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“yeah, i’m fuckin’ terrible,” he grins, clearly enjoying the annoyance in your voice. to emphasize his words—and to annoy you even further probably—he pinches the same cheek he just bit like an overbearing grandma checking to see if you had enough to eat.

yup, katsuki loves your cheeks, especially when they’re all flushed because of him.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Welcome Home, Rooster Bradshaw.

summary: It's been a long six months away from home for Bradley, and you're going to give him the welcome you both deserve.

a/n: ignore that this gif is from the offer, ok? It fits the vibe.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: masturbation (m), facesitting, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, bradley's a vocal lover, praise kink.

word count: 3k

taglist: @nouis-bum @floydsmuse @mamachasesmayhem @avengersfan25 @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @fall-winter-heart97 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue

Two more days.

Two more days until Bradley could see your face in person again. Two more days until he could be home and in his own space. 

Bradley let out a heavy, tired sigh, reaching his hand under his pillow. He pulled out the picture of you that he’d brought with him on deployment, tracing over your image with his fingers gently. The picture’s edges were becoming curled, worn from being tucked into flight helmets and under pillows, clutched in sweating, sometimes shaking palms, lips pressed to it in a tender kiss on occasion. He admired the photo, he’d taken it on a date you went on before he left. 

His dad’s well-loved Polaroid camera, left to him as a kid, in hand, he’d taken you to Mission Beach for the day, wanting to have the full tourist experience with you before he got shipped to the middle of the Pacific again. He found a store in Coronado that sold film for vintage cameras, building up a small stockpile for himself. He’d given you a full photoshoot that day — pictures snapped at every opportunity. Watching planes fly over head, playing games in the arcade, rides on the wooden rollercoaster, rock climbing, lunch dates, mini golf, and rock climbing. He’d snapped a couple of you in your sundress, smiling sweetly at him for the camera, your hair flowing in the warm Pacific breeze. 

This photo, however, was the one of you laughing on the beach, your baby blue two-piece swimsuit on, the high-waisted bottoms hugging your curves, the coordinating blue top cupping your breasts in a way that pushed them upever so slightly. He could practically hear your laugh whenever he looked at it, and it made his heartache that little bit more each time. 

“Fuck," he muttered to himself, sighing again as he looked around the bunk. 

Jake was on deck for the night, leaving Bradley with the shared space all to himself for at least a couple of hours. He laid back on his bed, tugging his grey sweatpants down off his hips. He spat into his free hand, using it to stroke his cock in a slow, steady pace, your photograph in his other hand, eyes fixed on your figure as he masturbated. 

Fuck, he missed you. 

He shut his eyes, picturing you as he continued to stroke himself, seeing the facial expression you made whenever you rode him, eyes shut with ecstasy, tits bouncing up and down, hips moving, hands pressed to his chest. The mental image alone was almost enough to drive him over the brink. He let out a deep grunt as he finished, your name escaping him in a soft moan. 

Two days couldn’t come soon enough. 

When he finally got home, Bradley was exhausted. The time difference had caused him more jet lag than it usually did, not that he was sleeping well without you to begin with. He never did. He’d landed earlier than anticipated, coming home a day before he was expected. He unlaced his standard issue boots, kicking them off at the door before heading directly to the laundry room. Stripping clean from his uniform, he tossed it into the washing machine, desperate for a shower and fresh, comfortable clothes.

With a dry towel wrapped around his waist, he bounded up the wooden stairs to the main bathroom. He dropped the towel as he turned the shower on, sighing happily as he stepped into the warm water, letting it wash over him for a minute, enjoying one of the first comforts of being home for the first time in six months. 

Stepping out of the tower, he quickly dried himself off and wrapped his towel back around his waist before heading down the hall to the bedroom. Everything was neatly pulled together — freshly laundered sheets on the bed that still smelled like your favourite detergent, his clothes neatly put away for him, fresh flowers sat in a vase on your nightstand, and a new book sat on his, with a note card placed on top. 

B, I saw this the other day at that cute little bookstore on Orange Ave. It made me think of you. I thought you’d like to read it now that you’ll have a little down time. - Love, your girl. Xo

Bradley felt his heart swell as he read your neatly printed note. He picked the book up, scanning the cover with a soft smile before setting it back down. A true crime book about a case in a podcast he’d mentioned in one of his emails home — it was perfect. God, you were perfect.

He tugged a clean white t-shirt over his head before reaching into his dresser for clean boxer briefs and a pair of well-loved denim shorts that were beginning to fray around the cuffs from being worn so frequently. Bradley looked out the bedroom window at the landscape, happy to finally be home. He’d missed all the little things while he was gone — the palm trees, the smell of those little laundry scent beads you swore by, your coordinating body wash, shampoo and conditioner that you insisted on buying for him when you’d learned he’d been coasting through life for 37 years with a 3-in-1 bottle — almost as much as he’d missed you. 

Downstairs in the kitchen, he got to work crafting himself the sandwich to top all sandwiches. He was starving, and after months of bland, unexciting meals on board an aircraft carrier, all he wanted was comfort food. With his turkey club piled high and a glass bottle of Coke from Mexico in hand, he settled into his favourite chair and began to enjoy himself until you came home from work.

When you did come home, you heard the faint sound of voices coming from the back of the house. You dropped your bag at the front door, running through the house so quickly, you’d forgotten to take your shoes off. In the living room sat Bradley, in his favourite, well-loved chair, dozing as sports highlights played in the background, a plate with remnants of a sandwich and a half-finished bottle of Coke sat on the table beside him. 

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his forehead as you stroked his curls, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. He was finally home.

Bradley’s eyes fluttered open, a smile forming on his lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, his nose pressed to your neck as you settled into his lap. 

“Missed you,” he murmured against your skin, peppering you with kisses.

“Missed you more, B,” you echoed as you raked your fingers through his hair. 

“God, I missed you so much, honey. This might have been the hardest trip away from you yet.” 

Bradley’s hands rested firmly on your hips as his lips wandered down your neck to your collarbone. He mumbled against your skin, shoving the strap of your tank top down off of your shoulder. His teeth grazed at your exposed, sun kissed skin, causing you to let out a gasp. 

“Bradley!” you squealed, laughing as his deep brown eyes looked at you, taking in the sight of your face again. 

“Mhmm, I missed that laugh of yours,” he hummed, his large hands moving to cup your breasts. “I’ve missed these tits of yours too.”

“I bet you have, were Jake’s not doing it for you?” you teased.

Bradley scoffed as he pulled your tank top off over your head, tossing it off to somewhere in the void across the room. With one hand snaked around your back, he unfastened your bra in one fluid motion, discarding it to the floor. He grinned at you before pressing his mouth back to your collarbone, thumbs tracing circles over your nipples as they pebbled at his touch.

“No, one’s could do it for me like yours do, honey, you know that. Look at you. So pretty for me. My girl’s always looking pretty, ain’t she?” he purred between kisses to your breasts. 

“Bradley,” you laughed, shaking your head, “This is what you want now that you’re finally home?”

“I’ve been wantin’ this since about two hours after I left, six months without you has been torture. I contemplated quitting when I came home. I thought about faking an injury so they’d discharge me. I tried thinking up a thousand ways to come home early — all of them bad.” He nodded, as he looked up at you, hands still cupping your tits. 

“Mhmm, you thought about quitting for me? That’s not the Bradley Bradshaw I know.”

“I swear, honey, this time…this time was harder than usual.”

“Well, I’m all yours now,” you nodded, your hand stroking his cheek. 

Bradley hummed to himself, tilting his head to the side as he thought for a minute. He looked at you, watching as you bit your lower lip. The sight of you alone after so much time apart was enough to make him hard, but now it was becoming unbearable. He needed you. He craved you. 

“Upstairs, now,” he urged, nodding his head as you got off his lap.

You grinned to yourself as you headed up the stairs, walking just slowly enough to your bedroom so Bradley could catch the way your hips swayed with every step, your taut ass bouncing with each movement. It was enough to drive any man insane, but Bradley could barely contain himself. 

Fuck, he missed you.

He pushed you on to the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with a wide grin plastered to his face. You placed a hand on his chest, steadying him as your smile faltered for a second. You held your breath for a moment before exhaling, nodding slowly as Bradley sat back on his knees for a minute. 

“Go easy on me, big guy, it’s been a long six months, I’m out of practice,” you teased, grinning at him.

“Shoot, honey, I thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t want me to-never mind, I’ll go easy on ya. I always do, don’t I?”

“Roo, you do the exact opposite of going easy.” You grinned, rolling your eyes at Bradley. 

Bradley repositioned himself over your body, smirking as he took in the sight of you again. His lips began trailing down your abdomen your shorts, sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he popped the button on your shorts open, sitting up as he pulled them off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your lace trimmed underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth found your core. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed for the last six months. 

“Just as pretty as I remember it, fuck.”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, pressing varying degrees of pressure into you, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him for the last six months. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you. He sat himself up fully, smirking at you.

“Get up, pretty girl, I have an idea.”

You let out a whine in protest, sitting up on the bed as Bradley now laid down on his back. Shooting him a look, you raised your palms in protest, shaking your head at him.

“Bradley, you seriously stopped so I would give it to you instead?”

“What? No,” Bradley laughed, shaking his head as he gestured to his face. “Take a seat.”

“You want me to…?”

Bradley lifted his head up off the pillow, giving you a lustful stare, his eyebrows knitting together as he nodded his head. “Did I stutter? Take. A. Seat.”

You rolled your eyes, giving your head a shake as you slipped out of your underwear, dropping them to the floor. Climbing back on to the bed, you hovered yourself above Bradley’s mouth, looking down at him as you chewed on your lip. He shook his head, his mustache tickling at your inner thigh as he kissed up your leg. In one swift motion, he gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you down until his lips were directly under your dripping core, smirking as he murmured against your skin again. 

“That’s my girl. I’ve missed this pussy so fuckin’ much.” He grunts, nodding his head slightly as he buries his tongue into you, nose pressed to your clit. 

“Bradley!” you whimper, your eyes fluttering shut as you reached down, fingers tugging on his dark curls.

Bradley’s tongue worked into you at a breakneck speed, so fast that you wondered how he was able to breathe. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, blunt fingernails digging into your soft skin as he held you in place. His mouth worked on you relentlessly, refusing to let up until he had you a screaming, crying, pretty little mess, just how he (and you) liked it. 

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley,” you babbled, unable to say anything other than his name as his tongue fucked into you. 

He grunted into your cunt again, mumbling words of praise into your skin. “Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, honey, so fuckin’ sweet.” He growled before delving his tongue into you again.

Your thighs began to shudder and shake, spasming as you felt your orgasm hit you harder than ever before. You shut your eyes, tears stinging as Bradley continued, not breaking his rhythm once as you came, his tongue quickly lapping at your arousal hungrily. He moved his mouth up to your clit, kissing at it with a couple of powerful sucks before pulling his mouth away. He let go of your thighs, a couple of darker marks forming on your skin from where he got carried away, gripping you a little too tightly. You got up, sitting on the bed, panting as you tried to find your mental clarity again. 

Bradley rolled onto his side and surveyed your thigh, pressing gentle kisses to the darkened marks on your skin in apology. Once you found your words again, his big brown eyes looked up at you from where he was laying on the bed. 

“Roo,” you nodded, placing a hand on his cheek, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed ya too, honey. Ain’t done with ya yet though.”

With that, Bradley quickly shimmied out of his denim shorts and boxers, kicking them off clumsily. He crawled across the bed, finding the spot between your thighs. His hands smoothed over your legs, lifting them up and hoisting them up onto his shoulders. You curved your knees around him as he aligned his hardened cock with your entrance, easing into you with a soft groan. 

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. You missed this cock, didn’t you? Missed me fillin’ ya up, huh, pretty girl?” He purred, pausing as he felt your walls stretching around him. 

“Yes, baby,” you nodded, whining as he stretched you. 

God, he was right. You did miss him. You missed him more than you wanted to let on, you missed his presence, his voice, the silly things he’d do that pissed you off, you missed the way he made love to you, passionate and caring, full of praise, making it his life’s mission to make you feel good. He took it as seriously as his work - calculated movements, using the same precision and laser-focus he did in the air.

Your eyelids fluttered shut again as you felt him pull out of you, pushing himself back into you again with a powerful thrust of his hips. Bradley tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, refusing to move again. “Nuh-uh, baby girl, keep those pretty eyes on me. Want you lookin’ at me when I fuck you, got it?”

You nodded dumbly as he pounded into your entrance again, making your head spin as your walls clenched around him. He began thrusting into you, starting slowly as he found his rhythm again, savouring every movement, every inch of you that he’d missed over the last six months. Bradley gently pressed his palm into your pubic bone as he thrusted harder, faster into you, the sensation heightening with the added pressure he was giving. You could tell by the knot turning in your stomach that it wasn’t going to be long before you were coming for him again, and if Bradley had his way, it wouldn’t be the last time you did tonight. 

“Feelin’ so fuckin’ good, pretty girl. That’s my girl. That’s my pretty girl,” he praised, his confident demeanor melting away, leaving Bradley a pussy drunk, babbling mess, unable to say anything other than your praises, repeating your name over and over as if it was a spoken prayer.

“‘M not gonna last, honey,” Bradley shook his head as he moaned breathlessly.

Fuck.

His breath hitched in his throat as his hips slowed, stilling as he came inside of you. Bradley let out the deepest grunt you’d ever heard — the past six months of missing you drawing out of him along with it. Ducking his head down as he tried to catch his breath, his curls slicked and stuck to his forehead with sweat, he panted heavily, gently letting your legs go as you dropped them back down to the bed. He looked up at you, deep brown eyes fixed on your features as he nodded breathlessly.

“Fuck, I missed you, honey. I missed this, and you, and home.”

“Welcome home, Rooster. Welcome home.”

[projectfreefall]

How long does a carriage normally last? Are there any noticeable frame changes?

Stoodie: For the sake of simplicity, we shall use Earth units of time! Time on Cybertron is far different than time on Earth, as our planet

has longer days and takes longer to orbit our star! Fun fact, our planet takes 83.3 earth years aka a vorn to orbit our star!

The average carriage takes about 3 Earth years from sparking

to emergence! A long time to you humans, surely! But a quick process considering our very long lives! And it affects us in some similar and some dramatically different ways!

It seems you are interested in learning more about the details of Cybertronian biology! Delightful! I love to see creatures eager to learn!

Click the read more and follow along the C.A.R.I.E. cycle!

(Stoodie will be used to answer History/biology asks that aren't asked to a specific character! And if anyone wishes to use these headcanons in their own works, that is 100% allowed!)

(Caution: fictional infant development topics of pregnancy and labor under the read more.)

Stoodie: A cybertronian's gestation goes through four key phases!

Phase one: The first phase of a carriage is called "The Orbit". This phase starts the second after two or more sparks participate in a merge that successfully causes one of the creator's sparks to fissure from the electrical surge and ignite a proto-spark.

Over the course of 2-5 hours, this proto-spark will spin chaotically from the energy still surging through it from the merge. In this state, it will either destabilize and fizzle out into nothing, or if a stable rotation and energy level is achieved, it will form its own orbit around the adult spark. The proto-spark, completing its first full stable orbit, signals the start of its journey.

Over the following month, the sparkling's orbit will change the nature of its new carrier's spark. The two will form a small gravitational field as they pull at each other. The presence of that field of influence causes the carrier's spark to release an energy signature signaling to the rest of their systems to begin construction of a body for this new energy. Sparks do not like to share their chambers, you see, so it becomes the frame's mission to get this new spark out of it. This is the end stage of the first phase of gestation and is usually when a Cybertronian discovers they are carrying, as they will feel a strange fluttering static inside their chest. That is, unless it's discovered earlier by physically opening the spark chamber for whatever reason.

Phase Two: Well, now we've got a little bitty one on the way, who needs a body, and how does the Carrier build that body? Well, first, they will need resources! The carrier will spend the remainder of the first year of their carriage accumulating resources like energon, metal, and nanites and stockpiling them in special ways.

For example, the metal that will physically build the little one is stored in Carrier's own armor. Now, to store that access metal without symphoning what the carrier needs for their own body, the excess metals and minerals are added onto the carrier's armor, physically increasing their density and making them much sturdier to protect the delicate newspark inside, but also much heavier! Most carriers will weigh 5-15 tons more, depending on the sparkling frame type, by the end of this stage of sparkling development. But that armor is tougher than a tank's during it, protecting both baby and parent!

One of the most important stockpiled resources in this phase are construction nanites from the sire, after all if the carrier's frame only used their own nanites, they would just try and program and grow a clone of the carrier, which might cause spark-frame disconection errors as this new body would try and steal the carrier's spark and not the one it was intended for. So nanites need to be taken from the Sire so that there are two different codes interchanging information to build a body tuned to the sparkling's unique frequency that was generated when it was sparked. This ensures that the only spark leaving the carrier's spark chamber at emergence is the sparkling's.

There are many ways for a carrier to harvest the sire's Nanites, and each couple has their preferences. The most efficient is for the sire and the carrier to do a cross-feed connection with fuel lines found in their chassis. While it is the fastest and most efficient way to transfer the nanites, as this method only needs to be used once, most bots find it the most boring, as you have to basically sit there and do nothing until the carrier's storage tank has filled.

Another example that I guess could be considered appropriate in terms of content, though I find it rather barbaric, is Syphoning. Akin to how you humans portray vampires, a carrier with pronounced fang-like denta can bite and steal the nanites from their partner. Obviously, many bots try and avoid needing to syphon as it's not exactly a painless way of doing it, but one that has developed in our species in the event of an emergency situation. Carriers are known to develop permanently pronounced canines during carriage, and it's common for some to have a medic reduce them down.

There was an old saying that you could tell a bot had carried either many bitlets or multiple times the longer their canines were. That, of course, was a tall tale and has no scientific backing to prove that the number of sparkling a carrier has effects the length of their denta. Anywho, we are getting distracted, moving on!

Phase Three: This is the longest phase in the carrying process and lasts 2 years! During this phase, the gestation chamber takes over primary control of the creator's T-cog to change its structure, which also means the carrier loses the ability to shift into their altmode the deeper into this phase the carriage gets. And like anyone going through gestation emotions can run wild!

It goes from being a rather small, unnoticeable spherical chamber under the spark chamber to a structure that could best be described as a clawed servo that spans a majority of the hollow space it's created through the T-cog in the chassis. This clawed servo structure forms an antigravity field only within the sphere of influence it has between its digits. It fills this gravitational void with a dark and thick, viscous material composed of energon, nanites, plastics, oils, and metals. It has the consistency of the earth food, jello. Inside this ball of goo is where the sparkling body will be constructed. And thanks to the antigravity field that protects the space, it doesn't matter how hard the carrier is jostled, the sparkling's frame will not move inside this space and is protected from physical damage.

During phase 3, both sets of construction nanites (sire and carrier) work in tandem to construct the sparkling's frame. This process takes a long time because the nanites do not always get along, and one team may deconstruct the parts the other group has constructed. In the first year of the building, both creators' nanites will fight each other over what elements and features they want to remain in the final construction. From the color of the optics to the shape of the olfactory and even the final altmode class, all these necessary components are determined by the winner of the individual fight when construction first occurs.

By the second year of the construction phase, the nanites have settled on what features to build and focus solely on building. That's why some sparkling may look more like one creator than another; it's all due to which creators' nanites were the more successful in fighting for their preferred features. By the end of the carriage, all of the sire's nanites will have died off from fuel deficiency and will be recycled as material into the sparkling's frame.

(WARNING EMERGENCE BELOW. Nothing graphic but may be upsetting to those with issues revolving around the topic of labor)

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Phase Four: Once the sparkling's frame is constructed, a portion of the carrier's nanites will sacrifice themselves to cause an electrical pulse to activate the sparkling's frame. This activation Is temporary and lasts only long enough for the frame to let off a signal tuned to the newsparks frequency, which coaxes the sparkling to leave its carrier's spark and descend from the spark chamber of its carrier into the gestation chamber where it will be locked into its brand new spark chamber. Once that new chamber is fully sealed, the sparkling frame jolts from new life activation protocols and the emergence protocol begins!

This is a very delicate task but also very straightforward. The carrier will be driven by the C.A.R.I.E protocol to seek a safe, quiet, and secluded space for emergence due to its delicate nature. During this phase over the course of 2-7 days on average the carrier will be in "labor" as their frame opens their chassis and moves the carriers spark chamber out of the way to quite literally drop out the sparkling. The carrier will drop onto their elbows and knees so gravity can do the work and the ejection has the lightest impact.

and TADAAA! You have yourself a fresh bitty! They are but a fraction of the adult's size and have zero kibble or color outside their spark, optic, and biolight color. So teeny and helpless and precious.

though the development of a sparkling outside of its carrier is a lesson for another day!

this concludes our lesson for the day!

[laswells-ashtray]

Alejandro is banned from going to Costco without a responsible adult [read as: Rudy] present.

This is after he came back with two bulk packs of pancake mix, a pack of 30 mini crossaints, and three different kinds of tequila.

Rudy sent him to buy a bulk pack of batteries, and that only.

Kate knows that if she and Sarah are walking into Costco, they're walking out with a rotisserie chicken in a bag. Every time without fail.

They're also buying light bulbs and a ridiculous amount of Dr Pepper.

Sarah ignores the cigarettes in their cart for the sake of her own health, and Kate ignores the blanket that she knows she didn't put in there.

Nikolai walks in like a man on a mission. He has his comfiest shoes on, and he is prepared to elbow a grandmother. He's stockpiling herbs and spices.

John is getting more cashews that necessary because he will eat them.

Neither of them are sure when they picked up three pounds worth of green grapes, and yet they leave, grapes in hand, regardless.

[arkangelo-7]

It’s funny to me that Tim Drake shares all the traits of a toxic ex-boyfriend.

Stalker tendencies? Tim spent years keeping tabs on and stockpiling an inordinate amount of information on Bruce Wayne.

Doesn’t know when “no” means “no”? When Bruce declined Tim’s offer to be Robin, because he didn’t feel emotionally stable enough for that commitment, Tim straight up ignored him and did it anyway.

Keeps trying to get back with you even though you’ve moved on? He literally cloned his dead boyfriend. Enough said.

Always overreacts? When Bruce got lost in the time stream, instead of just waiting for Batman to do his thing like a normal person, Tim decided to go on a extremely perilous mission across the globe even after everyone told him to maybe calm the fuck down.

Is always the source of drama? Tim literally cannot stop himself from fucking with Ra’s al Guhl, it’s like one of his main character traits.

Lies about things, and may be in trouble with the law? Need I remind of the fact that Tim forged government documents in order to make it appear that he had an uncle? No?

But, yes. You get it.

[settingmyheartablaze]

strong

sanemi x reader

content warning: mentions of violence

word count: 4.5k

You were no slayer.

It was the reason your husband, Sanemi, watched over you like a hawk each time you went out. Whether it be to the market, your friend’s home, or even just a stroll for some fresh air — if you walked out the doors of his estate, he was right beside you — no exceptions. He had always fussed over you like that, insisting that there was no such thing as too careful. It was almost comical, seeing how it was such a stark contrast to his exterior demeanor of cold-hearted ruthlessness. His worrisome disposition had taken countless hours of sleep from him, and you weren’t sure he’d ever be able to leave your side to attend his missions if not for his younger brother, Genya.

Not long after you had married Sanemi, Genya had quickly become quite fond of you. Anytime Sanemi was out on a mission, the young boy found himself regularly checking in on you. It was the only time Sanemi reluctantly acknowledged his younger brother’s status as a slayer — he’d never admit it (mostly out of frustration at his own limits), but he was secretly grateful that the young boy was there for you when he couldn’t be. It had become an unspoken agreement between the two of them, a silent neutrality: If Sanemi was away on mission, Genya would visit to see if you needed anything at all, even if just company to escort you around. The brothers adored you far more than you knew, and it seemed that devotion was strong enough for them to put aside their differences, but only when it came to you.

It hurt you that they weren’t on speaking terms, but you were incredibly grateful that Genya still came to see you from time to time, even if it was only when his brother was away — it gave you some way of checking up on him. The young boy viewed you almost like a mother, bashfully coming by to tell you of his accomplishments and help you around the home. Despite Sanemi’s insistence that he wanted nothing to do with him, you knew he was glad for it too from the way he’d leave just a bit too much ohagi for one person prepared at the table when he left for a mission. It was endearing, they way the two of them practically hid behind you to show their care for each other.

This strange little routine had become your norm, and today was no exception. Sanemi had been away on a mission for the last two weeks, making Genya your faithful companion. The two of you were now heading back from the market, warmly chatting away as the young boy carried each of your groceries in tow.

“Genya, really, let me help carry them!” You insisted.

“Not a chance! I’m super strong, so it’s not trouble. Besides, we needed a lot more than usual today, since I’ll be leaving too…” The boy’s voice faltered, a look of worry taking over his expression.

It wasn’t often, but every now and then, typically when your husband had been assigned a longer mission, there would be a brief window where the both of them were out. When this would happen, the both of them insisted on stockpiling the home with everything you could possibly need in hopes of minimizing your trips outside the estate. It made you sad the way you could see the boys sick with worry each time they had to leave you alone, so you always made sure to adhere to Sanemi’s only request he had ever made of you:

Never leave the estate when you’re alone.

While it may have seemed overnparanoid, the spike in recent demon activity had left him in a constant state of stress when leaving you. The man, while somewhat callous to others, had never been anything but kind, gentle, and adoring to you. You had him practically wrapped around your finger, and it was no secret. He spoiled you rotten at each chance he got, so the least you could do to ease his mind was comply with the one thing he asked of you. After all, it was only because he couldn’t bear the thought of you being harmed. His mind could only run rampant with the imagined horrors of what could happen to you if nobody was there to protect you.

Looking back at the boy next to you, it seems the same dark thoughts plagued his own mind. How could they not, after the things they had been through — the things they had lost.

You placed a hand gently on Genya’s arm, giving him a bright smile.

“Don’t worry. I have everything I need thanks to you, and I’ll be right in the house. I’m just lucky I have such a sweet little brother who makes sure I’m safe and sound — and is strong enough to carry all my groceries!”

The boy flushed, a happy smile relaxing his face at hearing such kind words. With the constant rejection he faced from his brother, you never denied him the chance to receive even an ounce of affection from you, showering him with your praise. Then, the boy’s eyes lit up with an idea.

“I know! Why don’t I buy you that fabric you liked from the store down the road? That way you can have something fun to do while we’re away!”

The boy surged ahead of you, excited by the opportunity to do something for you.

“You’ve got to get going soon, and don’t be spending your money on me! Get yourself a treat instead.”

“But Y/N-san, you’ve been needing a new kimono! And now that I defeated an upper rank, I got promoted so I’m making lots of money!” He declared with a cheeky grin. “Come on, we’ll be quick!”

After a defeated argument with the young slayer, you had arrived at home right at dusk with a harvest of groceries, fabrics, and anything else you could have possibly needed. He had quickly helped you put away your things and was now standing at the gates as you were seeing him off.

“It gets cold at night up the mountains, so keep this tight.” Your voice was firm but full of love as you fussed over the the boy’s clothes. He had a loving smile on his face, seemingly touched by your mother-henning.

“I’ll be alright, Y/N-san. You take care too okay?”

“I will. For all we know Sanemi could be back any day now, so I’m sure I won’t be alone for too long.”

“I know…but if anything happens, just send us a crow. I’ll come right away, and Aniki will too!”

“I know you would, but don’t worry about me. You should worry about coming home without a scratch. I’ll make your favorite dinner when you return.”

After a few more affectionate words of encouragement, you saw Genya’s figure trail off into the distance as you said your goodbyes. You were incredibly proud of how far he had come, but couldn’t help but worry a bit yourself each time he was off. You scoffed to yourself, rolling your eyes.

Those boys — they sit there worried sick about me while they’re off fighting man-eating monsters.

Despite their ridiculous double standard, you adored them with your whole heart, praying for a safe return each time they headed out into the unknown.

Now settled into the evening, you made quick work of preparing dinner, cleaning the home, and taking care of any other miscellaneous chores that you had been wanting to get done. Because of Sanemi’s nocturnal working hours, he oftentimes slept throughout most of the day which had inevitably caused you to turn to a nocturnal schedule yourself, despite his many protests. He wanted you to have a healthy sleep schedule and enjoy the light of day, but you insisted you were much happier staying up with him to enjoy his company. You had always been a night-owl anyway, at least you also got to spend the evenings with your beloved when he was home that way, too.

Satisfied with your work, you excitedly pattered over to the bag of fabrics that Genya had purchased for you. Your heart swelled at the boy’s kindness, touched he had always been so eager to do such nice things for you.

I’ll need to use some of this to make him a winter coat. He can’t just keep wearing that slayer uniform alone. Sanemi, too.

Satisfied with the idea, you took your supplies and sat by the fire, basking in its warmth and contentedly humming as you began your project, the flickering light pouring over your cozy makeshift workspace.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting there threading away, lost in the intent focus of your crafting. You had always enjoyed making clothes, especially for the boys. It was a way you could give something back to them, as they were constantly out there risking their lives for ordinary people like you. Even further, you knew those two desperately needed someone to take care of them every once in awhile. You stretched, letting out a satisfied groan as you glanced at the now smoldering embers of the once blazing fire.

Goodness, it must be an ungodly hour.

You rose, striding over to the door to peek outside at the moon’s location in attempt to see the time. It was a nifty trick that Sanemi had taught you one night as the two of you sat huddled together, your body nestled against him and curled in between his legs on the roof as you looked at the stars. You supposed it was an incredibly useful skill to have a slayer, where you were constantly counting down the hours to dawn. The memory brought a smile to your face, suddenly feeling that familiar longing for your husband to come home so you could be right back in his warm and comforting embrace.

It was just after three in the morning. You really had been working for awhile. You heard a crow squeak behind you from in the house, causing you to jump in your own skin.

You turned with a laugh, walking over to the bird on his post and scratched under his chin.

“I’m sorry. I’ve kept you up too, haven’t I?”

You weren’t sure where Sanemi had gotten his hands on one of the crows meant for slayers, let alone trained it to follow your every move, but you supposed it was just another of the many things your husband worked for tirelessly in order to keep you safe.

The bird boomed a loud squawk again, almost as if he was alarmed.

“What’s wrong?” You cocked your head in confusion, as the behavior was incredibly unusual for your typically relaxed companion. You turned to the door that was still slid wide open to the outside, carrying a cold draft that swayed the forest outside right into your home.

“Oh, right. The door.”

You turned, heading over to slide it closed. The bird began a furious barrage of cries once more.

“I know, I know, It’s cold! I’m going, don’t worry!”

You had just begun to slide the door shut when you heard it — the faintest snap of a branch. Your hearing had always been good. You used to sit by that very entrance and crane for the sound of Sanemi’s footsteps trudging home. However, this sound was much different. It was a sound that was trying to stay hidden.

Every part of you stilled.

Now, the only things you could hear were the wind rustling through the trees, and your own heartbeat thundering in your ears.

The wave of dread that coursed through your body on instinct confirmed to you exactly what situation you were in.

Sure enough, you saw them. Those eyes.

Glowing a horrid red, they stared right at you as their figure crept closer. You met their gaze, unmoving in shock. Then, the monster let out a horrifying laugh that nearly made you black out.

I need to stay calm. A single second could be the difference between me surviving and —

The idea of even finishing the thought made your heart stop. This was real, which meant you needed to think fast.

When looking back on this moment, you would remember it all in slow motion. It felt like time itself had frozen, giving you the milliseconds you needed to act. In an instant, your hand reached for the sachet hanging just by the doorway while you simultaneously cried out to the bird behind you.

“Go!” You shrieked, thrashing the sachet down below you. The second it hit the floor, an explosion of lilac smoke burst into the room. Despite the dense smog that had erupted all around you, the crow flew out the window immediately on your command, faster than a bolt of lightning.

Please, God. Let him make it to them.

The terror coursing through your body felt toxic; Your breaths were erratic and your whole body was trembling as you spun on your heels to make a bolt for your room. You couldn’t see a thing, but you were hoping your that meant your predator couldn’t either. You had the advantage of knowing the layout of the house like the back of your hand — you could only hope the smoke screen would work long enough to get you the head start. Just when you had made it past the kitchen, you ripped the tablecloth off, scattering it and its contents to the floor in an attempt to distract the demon. Just when you made it to the hallway, the monster flung in through the doorway, crashing straight towards the kitchen and smashing into the cabinets, falling for the decoy. You heard the demon cry out in a rage as the shattered furniture and dishes flew everywhere, but you didn’t falter.

You flew into your bedroom, practically leaping over the bed to Sanemi’s cabinet. It was a slim chance, but every now and then, Sanemi would have a spare sword in there that was needing to be polished or repaired. It was far from ideal, but it seemed like your only option.

Please.

Flinging the door open, you practically sobbed in relief to see one resting there. Reaching for it without a moments notice, you unsheathed it, the pure adrenaline taking over.

You can do this. You’ve watched him, all this time.

You had watched him, all those years, training day in and day out. It had always amazed you, seeing his God-given strength and ability. You couldn’t count the amount of times you sat on the engawa, enraptured by his every move in wonder.

That’s right. You’ve seen it a hundred times. All you need is one good hit.

His movements flashed in your mind - without even realizing it, your love for him had committed each of them to memory. Now, you just had to give it all you were worth and hope that you had even a fraction of his strength. You took a deep breath, tears welling in your eyes.

Be with me, love. Please, lend me your strength, even if it’s only for a moment.

You could hear the demon’s blind rampage getting closer. It was crying out, as if it was in pain.

The wisteria smoke — it’s working. This it it. The only window I’ll get.

Gripping the hilt of Sanemi’s katana, you charged out into the hallway, finding the demon writhing on the floor. With every ounce of strength you had, you ran forward, raising the sword high.

Right in the very moment you were going to swing down, the demon met your eyes in alarm.

No!

The blow came so fast, you weren’t even sure you felt the initial impact. Its leg came flying up and hitting you square in the chest, sending you flying into the wall. The force was so abrupt you flew right threw it, crashing back into the demolished area that was once your kitchen. Gasping for air, the sword fell from your hand as blood spurted out of your mouth.

Get up. You have to get up.

Turning over quickly, you crawled to your feet, desperately trying to run away. Not a second later, you felt the kick again, launching you into the air. Then, a claw gripped your shoulder, slamming you back down into the ground.

You shrieked at the searing pain of your chest being practically ripped open, your blood spraying everywhere. The floorboards beneath you split open from the pressure of your landing.

“You damn bitch! I’m going to rip you apart!” The demon roared furiously.

You could barely breathe. Blood was everywhere, pooling around your body like a lake.

I can’t do this.

You heaved, rendered completely immobile. With a cry of pain, you realized that it was over. You were going to die. For a split second, you contemplated giving up — letting the demon end it quickly. Then, they flashed into your mind.

The two boys you loved most in the world, returning to their home torn apart and your remains splattered along the walls.

No. I have to do this. I have to live.

You weren’t sure what overtook you in that moment. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it was the years of watching Sanemi’s breathing techniques, maybe it was sheer desperation. Wherever that miraculous source of strength came from, it had you on your feet, reaching for the demon’s neck. With a cry of pure rage, you ripped the demon down to the floor, pinning it down beneath you. Your hands flew to its arms that thrashed beneath you. The scream in your face was so loud you were sure it had ruptured your ear drums. And yet, you didn’t let go.

I can’t leave them.

A racked sob left your body as you fought to keep the monster beneath you, your muscles screaming at the unbearable pain, tears fueling your desperation.

I won’t leave them.

You were running out of strength. You were sure the only reason you were even remotely capable of holding it down was due to the smoke that was now slowly fading away. You could feel the demon’s force getting stronger beneath you, your own stamina quickly fading. The panic overtook you once more. Pressing down, you let out a horrid scream as you used the last of your energy to slam it back down beneath you.

At the sound of your scream, you heard a thundered rattle in the distance. The force was so intense that you could feel the ground shake beneath you. Your head lurched up in shock, trying to see what could have possibly made such a sound.

Please, God, don’t tell me there’s another!

Before you could even finish looking up, a white flash streaked across your vision — a pair of arms barreled into you so fast you thought you had hallucinated.

In an instant, you were flying across the room, locked in Sanemi’s grasp. He had moved so quickly that the two of you went flying through one of the only remaining walls to the house. He turned his body towards it to brace the impact, completely shielding you from the wreckage as the two of you crashed to the dirt outside.

In all your life, you hadn’t seen anything move that fast. You weren’t even sure it really happened until you felt the pressure of his arms locking you into his shuddering chest in the night air. At the register of his presence, you let out a choked gasp.

“Sanemi?”

You were gulping for air at this point, barely able to make out his name between your desperate and now gurgled heaves. Ripping his body back to meet your gaze, he was practically screaming at you..

“Where are you hurt?!” There were tears streaming down his face, and his whole body was violently shaking as he his hands roughly ran along your body, desperately searching for the source of the blood. You weren’t even able to respond before he had spotted it himself, ripping off his haori to try and cover the wound. You weren’t sure if the awful sound escaping his lips was hyperventilating or sobbing, but seeing him so shaken up stunned you. Not once in your life had you seen him so manic. You desperately wanted to console him, but your mind was still fixated on the threat in the house.

“The demon—” You rasped, but not before the sound of gunfire rattled from the house. Your eyes strained over Sanemi’s shoulder to see Genya blowing the demon’s head off in a blind rage. In that moment, your emotions overwhelmed you, and you began to sob.

They came.

Sanemi was fighting his own cries as he desperately tried to calm you.

“I’m right here, don’t cry! I’m so sorry but try to breathe, I need you to calm down, okay? You need to relax your body so I can stop the bleeding! I’m gonna fix this!” He was holding you so tightly, pressing down on your shoulder to staunch the bleeding.

“Y/N!” Genya came barreling towards the two of you, but froze at seeing the shape you were in. He gasped in horror, tears pooling in his eyes. He only broke his terrorized trance at the sound of Sanemi’s shout.

“Genya! Get Shinobu now!” Before Sanemi had even finished the words, the boy had turned and taken off towards the mansion.

You knew it must have been bad, otherwise Sanemi would have carried you there himself. He looked borderline rabid, scanning your body over and over for something else he could do. He leaned down, pressing dozens of fevered kisses to your face between desperate murmurs of assurance.

“I’m gonna fix this okay? Genya’s getting Shinobu and you’re gonna be just fine. Just stay with me okay? I need you to stay with me.” His former screaming had become soft whimpers, and now his voice was hoarse and broken.

You took a shuddered breath, willing yourself to speak.

“I-I’m so sorry— I tried my best, but the house, everything is gone —”

He wouldn’t even let you finish the sentence, interrupting you with a furious cry.

“Don’t you dare apologize to me! I don’t give a damn about the house! I—” He stopped, too choked up to finish the sentence. Pulling you even closer, his voice trembled as he continued. In a strange way, you almost found his hot-headed temper a comfort after seeing him so afraid.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” He sounded furious with himself, and you you gently shook your head.

“You came just in time. I was getting quite tired.” You tried to make light of the situation, which only caused your husband to let out a strange sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

His hands were wiping the tears from your cheeks, although you weren’t even sure if they were yours or his.

In the distance, you heard shouting. The muffled voices became more clear, and before you knew it, you had been surrounded by frantic kakushi as Shinobu flew to your side. The hashira looked appalled as she took in your condition, the bewilderment evident on her face. She gave Sanemi a worried look, and the man froze in fear.

“She’ll live. She has to. She put up too much of a fight to die now! Please!” You knew you really must have been about to die, because not once in your life had you ever heard your husband say the word ‘please’ to one of his fellow slayers.

Crouching down, the woman listened to your breathing. Snapping up, she began barking orders.

“Her lungs are pierced! We need to move quickly, she won’t even be conscious much longer. Get me…”

You couldn’t make out much else, your vision going blurred and the world suddenly becoming rather quiet. The last thing you remembered was your husbands trembling lips on your forehead murmuring sobbed prayers.

***

It was the feeling of the sun on your face that finally woke you. Letting your eyes adjust to the light, you blearily blinked, bringing you hands up to rub them. However, one if your hands was locked in place. Looking down, you saw your husband passed out in a chair beside your bed, clinging to you.

I must be at the mansion.

You sighed softly, taking a moment to bask in the utter peace you felt.

I’m alive.

You heard a soft snore from the other side of the room, causing you to look over in surprise. Genya was sprawled awkwardly between two chairs the had seemingly made into a makeshift bed, his body contorted in an attempt to curl into them.

Beside him on the floor was a bouquet of your favorite flowers — ones that the boys knew only grew in a particular valley by your home.

You froze, taking in the scene before you. Before you knew it, tears trickled down your face, completely overwhelmed once again by the swell in your chest.

I made it back to them.

Footsteps rounded the corner past your room, and Shinobu entered swiftly, carrying a tray of what looked to be different medicines. As she looked over at you, her face went slack. The tray she was holding collapsed to the floor, her own eyes filling with tears. The sound jolted Sanemi and Genya awake, their head snapping up in unison.

You weren’t sure who spoke first, the three of them immediately up and fussing over you in snorted sobs of relief. Shinobu checked your vitals as Sanemi’s head hit the mattress with a relieved sob. Genya was at your side in an instant.

“Are you all right?” He sniffed, and all you wanted was to take the sweet boy into your arms for a hug.

“Yes—” Your voice wobbled, the tears unable to stop. Seeing them made the boy’s eyes flash with worry.

“Why are you crying? Are you in pain?”

You shook your head, rubbing your eyes.

“No, I’m just so happy I woke up.” You wept. Sanemi took your hand, kissing it over and over.

You turned to shinobu who was feverishly checking over you.

“Thank you so much,” You whispered. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for all of you.”

The woman shook her head firmly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“No. You’re here because you’re strong. We only made it to you because you kept fighting. Never forget that.”

You were stunned by her words. The people you were luckily enough to call your family were your heroes — they fought tirelessly to protect the world from such evil, and never in your life did you ever imagine that one day, someone would see you the way you saw them — strong.

You were no slayer, but that day, you learned you never needed to be. You had everything you needed to be strong long before you ever gripped that sword.

part two

[doctorsiren]

Like with any media I get into, an AU is sure to follow, so here’s something @sleepysquib and I have been cooking up!

We wanted Haibara to live, that was it :D

Here’s a “brief” summary of his whole deal:

During August 2007, his second year at Tokyo Jujutsu High School, he went on a mission with fellow second year Nanami Kento. The mission’s level turned out to be higher than expected. Haibara received critical wounds, but was able to escape with Nanami with their lives. He was healed by Shoko’s reverse curse healing technique.

After his brush with death, he realized that he needed to be taking this more seriously. That, combined with Geto’s betrayal, led him to becoming less naive. However, he didn’t want to lose his positivity, so he focused on increasing his abilities through his emotions, eventually becoming promoted to Grade 1.

After graduation, Nanami still ran from the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, while Haibara stayed in that world. He saw his role as something akin to a superhero, and took it in stride, calling himself “Cupid” and being very public about his status. He quickly became popular and gained a fanbase, taking pictures and signing autographs for them when he has time.

Being received well by the media and being good on camera, Haibara became somewhat of a PR boy for the jujutsu sorcerers. He could make a bad situation sound less terrible through his natural charm.

Nanami and Haibara remained best friends during the time that Nanami was working as a salaryman. Eventually, Nanami learned the bakery lesson and realized his place was as a sorcerer. He returned to that life and was quickly paired with Haibara for many missions.

Haibara knows that the world isn’t the happy place he wishes, but he tries to be the change he wants to see and spreads positivity. He also does this in hopes of lessening the amount of cursed spirits created by the negative emotions of humans.

As a result of always expressing positivity, his negative emotions are naturally bottled up. He does this on purpose, stockpiling his negative emotions so he can release and harness their power if a battle becomes that dire. His last resort is to unleash his negative emotions, which increases his power greatly for a brief period of time. After this burst of power, he is left exhausted and drained and will need to recover. He is aware that he is being “toxically positive” but does so to increase his power with negativity later.

He doesn’t express joy all the time and doesn’t force himself to express it every moment of the day, but he will always express positivity in public and during battles to keep up morale and his image (although he doesn’t care about image in a narcissistic way).

He is liked by most people and others vent and confide in him. The personal sharing of their negative emotions adds to that stockpile that he can use if necessary.

Haibara tries to not express his own negative emotions to others because it will decrease that stockpile inside and he knows he needs to save that for dangerous battles. He knows it’s not healthy but he does it for the good of Japan, seeing himself as a superhero.

Much like a cursed spirit, his greater power increases when those around him have expressed negative emotions, but he doesn’t like to acknowledge the fact that he has something in common with cursed spirits.

Lives by the mottos of “With great power comes great responsibility” and “greet the world with open arms”

[katsukota]

First Date

Things with Touya always burned. It was usually a slow burn at first, until smoldering flames erupted from emotions previously covered. So even though you'd spent months with the scarred man, on your first official date, you find out something that only made the previous months feel like years.

an : not proofread sorry i have to get ready for work soon

You and Dabi had been unofficially dating for months now. Neither of you were the type to quickly cling onto others, and both of you remained stubborn in keeping your feelings a secret.

Though, it didnt do much. It was obvious to everyone, even the both of you. You, nor Dabi were stupid. You picked up the underlying messages and feelings in each interaction. Prolonged eye contact, memorizing each other's favorite drinks, leaving clothes in the others room, going shopping for the leagues groceries together, bandaging each other's wounds.. um.. yea.. okay guys.

Still, both of you remained stubborn, refusing to admit your emotions to the other. Continuously betting on the other swallowing their pride first.

You had thought you knew Dabi. In the months you experienced living with him at the Leagues hide out, you believed you have learned more about him than anyone. In hindsight, you felt like you'd missed some of the most obvious things about him.

Month one, you two ignored each other. His stiff personality didnt particularly call to you. You had better things to focus on, and clearly he did too. The constant bombarding of various League members, while sweet, over whelmed you. No need to remember more people than you can handle right now. You let him fade into the background.

Unfortunately, he never seemed to truly disappear. Like a fire thats gone out, the embers stay shining through its wooden coffin.

During your smoke breaks, you found him always taking them at the same time. Things stayed silent, not bothering to attempt small talk. It seemed both of you preferred it that way. No social bond or understanding developed the following weeks.

The next month, Shigaraki suddenly paired you two together. Only now had you actually processed he had a name. 'Dabi.' Weird. Pretty ugly name, you thought. You ignored him adamantly at first, but now that a name was set to the face, you felt obligated to at least make eye contact.

The mission itself was quick, and involved at most four sentences of dialogue. His already strong quirk applied with your stockpiled boost abilities made for a merciless duo. While you two didnt seem to exactly hate eachother, you weren't really jumping for the chance to be together.

But if either of you were trying to use the mission as a reason to avoid the other in the future, it completely backfired. Not only was Tomura impressed, but All for One himself directly paired you two to handle new recruits. Isn't that great ?

Month three now, your lighter started running low on fluid. Even though the man who just always seemed to be out on the balcony when you were had the perfect quirk to solve this issue, youd rather use his staples to shut your mouth up than ask for help.

He watched as you vigorously flicked the lighter, only coaxing a few sparks out of it. He didn't offer any help, but his face slowly became amused as you got angrier. You looked up and scowled at him, though no words were said yet. A steady dynamic was forming.

It was four months now, and no distinct sign of romance was forming, but when you think back, you believe thats what made it so great. In that moment, the thought of the black haired, or so at the time, man being in any romantic light would have never even crossed your mind. It probably would've made you gag, if anything.

You'd begun starting the recruitment process. This was the first time you and Dabi seemed to agree on something. These guys were fucking losers. Neither of you found any possible use of them, and made it clear.

The first night, no one, not you, Dabi, nor the new upcoming villains managed to get a word in. A blizzard of blue crashed upon the surroundings. What should've been a cool night, melted with the complete refusal you had to acknowledge the man.

You two walked back. You two were both clearly amused, and proud of the situation. Neither of you even made eye contact, but you used your quirks in perfect tandem.

Month five, your lighter completely stopped working. You were clearly not in the mood to deal with anything without nicotine, and got bitchier each passing day.

"Why won't you just light one already ?" You scowled, the withdrawal practically burning. Even though the clear pink tinted lighter you had was visibly empty, you desperately tried to ignite the cigarette.

"Fuckin addict." He huffed, taking a puff from his respective cigarette. Your eyes narrowed, and Dabi had a feeling he should be thankful you had a boosting quirk and not an attack based one.

You groaned, genuinely annoyed, "You're one to talk." He was such an ass ! Without looking back, you walked off to god knows where.

Behind his black hair, he smirked, enthused. Seeing you all upset might be his new favorite way to pass time.

Month six, you finally came back with your own lighter. It was a similar clear but colorfully tinted one, but a blue this time. It was a nice lighter.

He saw it emit a similar blue flame, and lit your lighter more efficiently than your already old one ever did.

"Pretty cool, huh ? It reminded me of you." Oh. He kept thinking about that. Every smoke sesh he watched carefully as you carefully held the stick in-between your lips, using one hand to shield from the nights cold wind, the other spurring the ocean flames to life.

Month seven, he decided he was going to steal that lighter.

He carefully watched your actions throughout the day, and observed where youd go at night. Sure, it was creepy, but he had a feeling you knew.

You both were often out during the day, so his only real option was at night.

Each night, he thought about stealing that lighter from you. Youd sit out at the balcony together. Recently chairs were mysteriously added, so you both found yourselves sitting out there together for longer.

He never asked direct questions, but subtly got to know you better and listened carefully. Eventually, youd get him to answer questions back. It was crazy how the man youd never glanced at twice seemed to suddenly become the one you spent the most time with.

Each night, like moths to a flame, you came to each other. As if his natural light drew you and your new pack of cigarettes each week in. At the same time, that oddly specific blue lighter and honestly.. maybe just you were drawing him in quicker as well.

Month eight, he still couldn't bring himself to just take that damn lighter.

You two were on missions together about every week now, killing a number of recruits simultaneously. Over and over, you two got them out of your way quick, before taking a few 'detours' back to the hideout.

One time you'd gone into a small cafe, and found out oddly enough the bitter man likes his coffee sweet and creamed.

Another, you'd walked along the pier, catching a few sharks in the distance. "Dabi, look !!" He'd never seen you so genuinely excited. The rough and gloomy atmosphere at the home base rarely held chances for sweet moments like these.

Month nine, he finally stole that fucking lighter.

It was a long night, an entire group mission was set out, and many were injured. You and Dabi were the first to clear yourselves, you being efficient in wrapping the scarred man up in your first attempt, and he.. had some interesting healing tips up his sleeve for you.

Finally, you could just sit back, relax, and have a smoke. You weren't sure how much hed want to talk tonight, rough mission and all. You just reached for your lighter and.. "The fuck did my lighter go."

Dabi inconspicuously turned his head to you. "Huh ?" You shook yourself down, but no trace of it was there.

You sighed, you just wanted to shut your head off for a second. "Let me check in my room, I must've forgot it this morning.."

Before you could walk off, a deep voice stopped you in your tracks. "Just let me do it."

You looked over, a bit surprised. He usually declined to do this. "Dont look at me like that.. shut up and give me the cigarette."

He sighed, regretting his offer, when you instinctively slid the tube into your mouth, and tilted your head out to him.

"You're brave." But he didn't hurt you, no. A small flame, blue and familiar, just like your favorite lighter, light up your face.

Dabi felt a little weird. In this position, this angle, this lighting.. you looked perfect.

Month ten, he became much more insecure. Its something he felt many times in his life. Despite how tough and careless he seemed, his body and heart were human underneath staples and ice.

He knew he was scary, an otherwise ugly man due to the severe scarring his own childhood left on him. He was a sullied boy, no matter how hard he tried to wash the scars off.

And seeing how soft, how pure you look in the night light of his inhumane flame. He couldn't handle someone looking at him with soft eyes.

Dabi began avoiding you. You went from sitting next to each other at Kurogiris bar stools, to sitting on opposite ends. You were off sync when getting rid of recruits, him burning you a few times, and you failing to activate your quirk, letting them get away.

You were getting fed up with this, because worst of all, you were left without a lighter.

While Dabi was terrifyingly aware of your timing and 24hr schedule, he couldn't always use that to avoid you because you knew his as well.

Month eleven, you put a stop to this all.

You finally got him at the right time, and weren't going to let him go again. "So, you think you can just steal my lighter, then ignore me?"

Oh. Really, in hindsight, he didn't know why he thought he could keep running without you catching up. Even though your quirk worked as a mere tool for others, and even though All for One and Shigaraki often put you down for that, you didnt just aid, but you did so relentlessly.

You didn't stop and wait for someone to use you, in moments like these, and in moments where you were out on the battlefield, you chased after the strongest ability and strengthened it. When it came to people like Dabi, you chased after him and brought out the softer side.

He sighed, looking back at your soft face. It brought a comforting warmth, but the longer he looked, the hotter he felt with guilt.

"How can you even look at me ?" He choked. "You're so.. clean.." He grasped at the staples and charred skin, scratching and pulling lightly. "And im ruined.." Red drops started rolling down from the bottom of the burnt skin underneath his eyes. Is he..?

"Dabi.." You spoke, unwavering in your stance. You werent sure if you'd regret this, or if hed kill you for trying it, but you felt confident.

Walking closer, you rested your hands against his rough cheeks. Observing him closely, he seemed more shocked, but not upset. "For what it's worth." Your lips ghosted his lower one, the one that was rough and stapled back to his face. "I think you're really, really, pretty."

Month twelve, he finally took you out on a date.

"Im sorry.. its not mu-" "Oh shut up."

Late at night, after he lit one of your cigarettes, he took you out to a riverside, with the moon glimmering in the waters reflection.

"This is beautiful, Dabi !" He paused, turning his head away from you suddenly. "Huh ? Whats the matter ?"

"..Touya" What ? .. Oh !

"Touya ?" He looked back at you, a soft pink airbrushed over his cheeks. He just nodded.

How cute.

Nearing the end of the date, you felt like the world was in your palm but light and airy. Holding Touyas face in your hands felt surreal, like it should have happened the day you met but was supposed to now.

"I want.. to do one last thing." He looked away again, clearly trying to hide the way his face was heating up.

You laughed softly. Its still insane to you how this happened in what feels like so little time. "What is it ?"

"I .. want to dance with you." His blue eyes darted back and fourth, occasionally looking down to see your reaction.

"Thats.." You paused. Dabi, or, Touya, the man who you killed so many people with, was an absolute dick, stole your lighter, ignored you, ran back into your arms when you held them out for him.. likes dancing ? "Thats so sweet, Touya."

You weren't letting him go again. Not after this dance.

[ficfield]

A new kind of battle 

Request: More Chris Redfield and his newborn son🥺🥺🥺 like a part 2 plzzz

Chris Redfield would be such an amazing dad ❤️

another one for y'all!, you're welcome hehe

Enjoy my lovelies!

A few weeks old – sleepless nights and soft mornings

Chris had endured countless sleepless nights in his lifetime, missions that stretched on for days, nights spent stargazing, fighting surviving. But this? This was different.

He sat in the dimly lit nursery, the faint glow of the nightlight casting soft shadows on the walls. His newborn son was nestled against his chest, tiny breaths warm against his shirt. Chris rocked slowly, his large hands supporting the fragile life in his arms.

He still couldn’t believe it.

In all his years of facing horrors beyond imagination, he never thought he’d be here, cradling something so small, so delicate, so…… perfect.

His son stirred, making a tiny noise that sent Chris into immediate alert mode.

“Hey, hey, buddy,” he murmured, voice softer than it had ever been. “You okay?” 

The baby wriggled, letting out a whimper, and Chris instinctively bounced him a little, running a hand over his back. 

“Shh, it’s alright. I got you.”

Somewhere in the hallway, he heard the faintest sound of his partners phone camera clicking. Again.

Chris sighed, but he didn’t move to stop her, he knew she was stockpiling evidence to his “soft dad” moments, but honestly? He didn’t care.

Let the world know.

He was a soldier, a warrior, but right now? He was just a dad. 

And he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

A few months old – overprotective dad mode activated

Chris had survived ambushes, bioweapons, and literal hell on earth. But nothing tested his nerves quite like his sons sneezing.

It happened one afternoon while Claire, Jill and Leon were visiting. The little guy had been playing in his bouncer when he let out a tiny “achoo.” 

Chris immediately sat up, eyes sharp. 

“He sneezed.” 

Jill arched a brow. “Yeah? Babies do that.” 

“What if he’s getting sick?” Chris was already reaching for his phone. “I should call the doctor-“

Claire and his partner groaned. “Chris, it was one sneeze.” 

Leon, of course, saw an opportunity and ran with it. “Oh man, you’re right, Redfield. It’s probably the T-virus. Kids a goner.”

Chris shot him a look that could melt steel. His partner having to act fast and hold his arm to prevent him from lunging at him.   

Leon just smirked and muttered, “overprotective dad mode: engaged.” 

Chris sighed, running a hand down his face. He knew he was being a little extreme, but he couldn’t help it. His whole world was wrapped up in that tiny little person. 

Jill clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, bug guy. The kid’s fine.” 

Chris exhaled. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”

Chris was already dialling the paediatrician. 

First birthday – a promise for the future.

The backyard was filled with laughter, the warm afternoon sun casting a golden glow over the small gathering. A few BSAA friends had stopped by, but it was mostly just family, Claire, Jill and (unfortunately) Leon, who had, against Chris’s wishes, gifted his son a tiny leather jacket.

Chris was still debating whether to burn it. 

But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, he was watching his son, a whole year old today, sitting in front of a cake shaped like a boulder. (His partners idea, of course)

The baby stared at the cake, then at Chris, as if waiting for permission. 

“Go ahead, buddy,” Chris Chuckled. 

And just like that, tiny hands dove into the frosting, smearing chocolate everywhere, his face, his highchair, even Chris’s sleeve.

Leon whistled. “That’s your kid alright.” 

Chris rolled his eyes, but his attention was already back on his son. 

A year ago, he had held this little life in his arms for the first time, terrified and In awe. Now as he watched his boy giggle, cake-covered and happy, he realized something. 

This? This was why he fought.

Not for missions, nor for duty, not even for revenge.

For this. For family.

His son turned to him, grinning wide, eyes unmistakenly his. And then, 

“Dada.” 

Chris froze.

The world could’ve ended right then and there, and he wouldn’t have noticed. 

Leon and Claire were already losing it, but Chris didn’t hear them. His partner gripping his hand lovingly with a huge smile. His throat tightened, and he blinked fast, clearing the sudden burn in his eyes. 

“Yeah, buddy?’ his voice cracked, just a little. “That’s me.”

And when his son reached for him, Chris Redfield, the same man who had fought monsters and punched boulders, melted. 

Jill smirked. “Oh yeah. You’re done for.” 

And she was absolutely right.

Because this little guy?

He was Chris’s whole world.

[bun-parade]

(Banner by @/cafekitsune)

I imagine Enji has this huge stockpile of super expensive, high-end sex toys cuz he has more than enough money to burn on them. I'm talkin' $500 vibrating wands that are small but pack more punch than your $50 Hitachi ever could. Fuck machines with every attachment imaginable so he can sit back and watch it pummel your insides as he strokes his huge cock. Those Bluetooth controlled fleshlight-dildo combos that sync to his thrusting so he can fuck you even when he's away on missions? He's got them too. He puts everything in a finger print-locked chest in the master bedroom.

Don't even get me started on sex furniture. Vibrating saddles, spanking benches, cages, suspension restraints that bolt into the ceiling; he's got EVERYTHING. Man has too much fuckin' money and he needs a pretty little thing with a wet cunt to spend it on and spoil.

[geeeemmmmmmm]

Cold snap

summary:Bucky lets you in on some of the unique ways hydra has kept themselves in his mind. warnings:Nothing I believe

wc:1.9k a/n:It's so cold here in chch, even more so when you have to stand holding your horses for the farrier in 8 degrees anyways, as always sorry for any mistakes and I hope you enjoy!

The thing about Bucky that always baffled you was the fact he's always cold — like, always. It makes sense to a degree in your mind, considering the fact that he spent decades in cryo-freeze, so of course that will linger. But his body will always be warm to the touch, and somehow he cannot feel that within him. He only feels the bitter, frigid temperatures that seep into his bones and cling onto his body.

You first noticed how panicked he started becoming at the end of autumn during your first year of dating. He made his unknown fear of the cold evident when he would stockpile blankets on his bed and always crank the heater up.

"Buck, it's boiling in here — why did you turn the heater up?" you groaned jokingly from the couch. It was already an unpredictably warm day, causing you to resort to lounging on the couch in just a bra and some small PJ shorts.

He looked like a puppy caught digging in the yard when he caught your confused gaze.

"Thought you looked cold," he quipped with his signature boyish grin. He often used sarcasm to brush off his needs and wants.

You just playfully rolled your eyes and turned your focus back onto the TV. You ignored the humidity in the room and made space on the couch for him. Just as you laid against his side, it was uncomfortable.

"Bloody hell, why are you so warm?" you groaned again while shifting back to the armrest.

Those words you said made Bucky somewhat confused. All he felt was a suffocating frost. Throughout your relationship, Bucky had begun to let you into his personal traumas, but it was an extremely hard thing for him. He wanted to kick himself for not talking about one of the lingering effects that actually are implemented into his day-to-day life. These weirdly warm days in cold seasons always throw him off further — always have, always will. It made him remember the times the Winter Soldier would be broken from the ice, back into the faux warmth of Hydra, only to be thrown right back in after a brutal mission.

The courage to explain why he hates the cold froze up suddenly as he just shrugged your exclamation off. It was the one thing he never wanted to do — make you uncomfortable, yet he figured you might prefer the heat instead of having to listen to his gruelling tales (you wouldn't, but he won't let himself fully believe that).

His neurotic habits only got worse as winter began. While you don't like being cold, it's a fine line between being just right and too hot while wrapped up in bed.

Another shockingly cold night raged on outside as you snuggled against Bucky and his electric blanket. It became an unspoken tradition for you to spend the night at your boyfriend’s during the cold nights of any season. You just didn't know the reason behind it was that, during these cold snaps, Bucky finds it hard to move. Nothing physical — purely his mind making him remember how the cold would restrain his joints. Every and any product meant to keep the house warm in winter, Bucky brought. He didn't like having a lot of stuff, yet he couldn't bring himself to live in that cold again.

He stirred awake to find you shuffling out of bed.

"Hey, baby, what are you doing?" His voice rough from sleep as he squinted his bright blue eyes open.

"Sorry, I'm just changing out of your hoodie into something else. I'm a little warm," you admitted sheepishly, as you discarded his hoodie and swapped it out for his comfier red henley. It was just a little much to be in an extremely warm hoodie and PJ pants, wrapped against another warm hoodie worn by someone with a high body temperature. Before he could respond, you jumped back into bed and into the position you both were in before. His body wrapped around yours again with his head resting on your chest — it felt a little better with some excess heat shed off.

"'S okay," he hummed sleepily into your chest while you carded your hands through his impossibly soft hair.

Those encounters happened a couple more times until he actually mustered up the courage to talk to you about it. Not to your surprise, the heater was being blasted up by Bucky — all while he had your soft blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"How are you not the least bit warm?" you asked, with a hint of humour lodged in your voice.

"Hydra kept me in the cold, so... I don't know, really — it lingers still, and I always feel cold from it." It was definitely not the phrasing he wanted to use, or the time to admit this, but he found that words just slipped out in the comfort of your company.

"Oh... Buck, I'm so sorry, I didn't know," you whispered before clambering off the couch to stand in front of him. Unsure of what to do, you carefully reached out to thread your arms around his neck. Of course, he'd managed to tell you about the cryo — you just felt stupid you couldn't connect the dots to all this behaviour and his past.

"'S not your fault. I... I, uh, tried to manage it, but..." He took a quick pause to inhale deeply. "The cold always seeps back into my bones, and it just feels like I'm going back there." His blue eyes started to become glassy with tears as he gazed down at you.

"Is there anything I can do to help you manage it?" you asked quietly, not wanting to push him further about his past.

Your response startled him. He expected you to laugh and taunt him for just feeling cold. The parts of his mind still held by Hydra always try to paint your image to be as evil as them.

"I don't know if there is. I'm sorry," he huffed out quietly, letting his head bow in shame.

Carefully, you brought your hands up to hold his face so he could meet your eyes.

"That's perfectly fine, but let me know if you ever need anything, okay?" you told him, making your voice a little firmer than usual to try to reaffirm that you're always there for him. He just nodded slightly in reply, having his head fall against your shoulder as you held him. You rested your head against his as you stood holding each other.

"I'm going to make a hot chocolate — want me to make you one, honey?" you said, keeping your voice gentle and warm; you knew how Bucky secretly enjoyed the hot chocolates you made.

Bucky usually kept quiet after letting more of his past be known to you. Of course, you never minded and just waited for an affirming nod. He trailed behind you as you worked your way around his small kitchen, finding the ingredients you left for him. A couple of minutes later, you had whipped up the most Ned Flanders-looking hot chocolate for you both.

"Bon appétit," you smiled, holding the two mugs. That earned a small laugh from Bucky — better than the silence he was stewing in.

"I love you so much, y'know that, right?" His voice quivered just a little as he spoke to you.

"I know that. I know that every day, baby. I love you too, and you know that," you said with a smile, noticing some whipped cream on his upper lip. Letting your thumb brush against his lip to wipe the cream off, you teased, "Really looking like a super soldier, Barnes." Your smile widened as he laughed at you once again.

A couple of days later, you found one of the best things ever for Bucky: fuzzy socks. Not just any fuzzy socks — ones with a gimmicky cartoon Steve Rogers. After purchasing them in Bucky's size, you quickly made your way to his apartment.

"Buck!! I have something for you!" you called out, barely able to hold your laughter the second you got in his front door.

He called your name back as he made his way to you with a slightly concerned look on his face.

"What have you gotten me...?" It wasn't that he didn't trust you — Bucky trusts you with everything — you just have a knack for finding... unique gifts for him.

Without a word, you held the socks up, your laughter filling the room.

Bucky's face was a priceless mix of confusion and gratitude.

"For me?" he pointed a finger back at himself, like you would get this for someone else.

"Mhm! I know how you hate the cold, and I have a different pair of these, and they are really warm. Steve being on them just makes them better," you explained happily.

"Well, thank you so much, baby they definitely are.. unique," he said lightly before pulling you into a hug.

"Anytime, Buck," your voice muffled by the thick hoodie you rested your cheek against.

a/n:Please tell me someone gets the Ned Flanders hot chocolate I have wanted one since childhood bro

[thatbennybee]

Rewinding Our Fate Ch1: Rewind

Branch flopped backward onto Poppy’s plush pink bed with a FWUMP! After their long day with a bittersweet family reunion/rescue mission combo adventure.

“What a day, huh Branch?” Poppy sighed, flopping back onto the bed with her boyfriend. The queen set her crown on her nightstand before turning to face Branch with an exhausted, toothy grin.

“You said it. I don’t think I wanna do anything ever again after all that.” The blue troll chuckled while returning a sleepy smile to his girlfriend.

They were totally exhausted, fighting off two selfish, green haired, succubi siblings for the sake of their own was possibly the most stressful thing they’d done together, not to mention all the questions it left for the couple. But that would be a problem for later. Right now, all they wanted to do was cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms, so that’s what they did as they scooted in close to one another.

“Feels like the end of a bad dream.” Branch mumbled as he drifted off, nuzzling noses with Poppy before leaning his head back again to look her in the eyes. She crinkled her nose, shaking her head with a drowsy smile. Their hair and tails coiling together in tingly affection.

“Mm, no… If this was all a dream, I don’t wanna wake up…. Wake up…”

It felt like Branch was being bathed in warmth as a bright light infiltrated his shut eyelids.

Wake up…

He felt like he was drifting off to sleep. Floating off the bed. Shifting somewhere else altogether before he started to fall. Falling. Falling fast. It was getting so dark, so cold all of a sudden. He just kept falling, falling until he fell in deep and splashing into an ice-cold lake.

Wake up.

Branch sprung up in his bed, panting heavily and shivering from the sudden cold he was feeling. His bed. In his bunker. What? How did he get back here? He knew for sure he had stayed over at Poppy’s pod last night, what gives?

This comforter, he hasn’t used this since Poppy had sewn him a new one with patches of blue and pink peppered in with the green. It was a clash of colors but it was a gift he cherished. Where had it gone? It’s freezing in here too, what’s up with that? He always turned the heat on at night now that he installed it down here, why was it off? He had a lot to investigate, but he figured he could do that after getting up and dressed.

He swung his feet out of bed and slipped his feet into his slippers. Ugh, why did they feel so weird, they felt like those old ones he had finally thrown out after he received a new pair from Prince D when he had a sleepover there with Cooper a couple of weeks back. They were much comfier. He needed to find those instead. He looked down at his grey legs shoved in the slippers and wondered how they’d gotten there.

Wait a minute. Grey legs?

Branch stared at his legs for a minute, blinking a few times, rubbing them as if they’d magically be a bright blue again after clearing them. That’s weird. He wasn’t feeling particularly bad today, why were his colors so dull? Must be having an off day. Those happened a lot for Branch. Having so many feelings to navigate sometimes left his colors a bit dim when he wasn’t mentally feeling a hundred percent.

Whatever, it happens. Maybe it was gonna hit him hard later instead of right away. That happens, too.

He shuffled to the bathroom and flicked on the light, he grabbed his toothpaste, put it on his brush, and slowed as he inspected his paws. Man. He was really, really grey right now. Was it the lighting in here? Maybe he should get a brighter bulb. He started brushing his teeth, eventually looking in the mirror to brush properly before he paused; completely catatonic as he gawked at himself. He wasn’t desaturated, he was totally grey. His hair was as black as it used to be back… a couple of months ago. When he was all alone. Before he-

No, no, that can’t be it.

He looked at the sticky note on the mirror he’d left himself the day prior:

‘Collect sticks for the stockpile. Avoid Pop Village. Big morning dance number tomorrow. Poppy inevitable.’

Branch grimaced. That’s the note he’d left himself right before Poppy’s huge party for the 20th anniversary of their Troll Tree escape. He remembers because after they’d gotten home from their adventure, he crumpled it up and never wrote another note like it because they were now friends. He wouldn’t avoid her anymore.

That’s really strange. It’s almost like-

No, that’s ridiculous. He’d just go check his journal entries and everything would just fall into place. He spit out his toothbrush, haphazardly leaving it in the sink as he rushed over to his nightstand with reckless urgency. Yanking open the drawer with shaking paws, he flips through it to find the last entry. The last date marked. The date is the date right before the Troll Tree Escape. 20 years marked to this day. It’s today. The day everything changed for him. Months ago, when he was still grey and miserable.

No. This can’t be happening. It can’t be true.

A dream? Was everything he experienced all just some sick fantasy his mind made up? Was he that goddamn lonely that he dreamt up some lovesick fantasy for himself where he got the girl of his dreams, his colors, and his brothers back? This can’t be happening.  He’s grey. His previous entries indicate his misery and loneliness. No entries about Poppy and all of her friends and their silly activities and antics. No entries about saving all of music from Queen Barb. No entries about their dates and his hangouts with his new friends from different tribes. Nothing. Page after page, misery, and more misery. He was back at the start. No progress was made. In fact, none of it had even started. He was the mean, colorless loner who hurt everyone with his words and never had fun, sang, or danced. A friend to no one.

A nobody.

His paws shook as his fingers gripped the journal. His eyes burned from his lack of blinking. Droplets of water plopped on the pages, ruining them. Was his roof leaking? His eyesight got blurry and it was getting hard to breathe. He dropped his journal, his paws shook as he looked at them. Scarred, calloused, and dull. No pink troll around to hold them and say how wonderful they were. She never will. They aren’t even friends, after all. His fingers coiled around his raven hair, balling his paws into fists as they gripped his hair in agony.

His quiet shaky breaths were more ragged and uncontrolled as he hiccupped and hunched over in his kneeling position. He wailed in anguish for the massive loss he was feeling, but no troll would come to comfort him or rap at his rock to see if he wanted to come out and sing with them. Nobody knew him. Or loved him anymore. He was nothing again. Alone again. All he could do was wail and yell in agony as he recognized that none of that was real.

There’s no way he could do this. Another loss too great for him to bear.

After an hour of uncontrollable grieving, Branch pulled himself together enough to dress and leave his bunker. He had to be sure. Needed to be sure. He dragged his feet, swaying aimlessly and a vacant look in his eyes as he neared the village. He could hear her beautiful voice, none the wiser to his yearning.

“Everybody, swing your hair and feel united, woah-oh-woahhh…!”

He watched the Snack Pack finish their giant group pose at the end of the dance number with a “Yeah!”

He quickly wiped a tear away. He was reliving the same day he had so many months ago. He was right back to where he started.

At rock bottom.

~~~

Original End Note: I know, I know. The “what if it was all a dream?” premise is the oldest trick in the fandom book, but I wanted to give it an actual shot! I think True Colors Branch stuck in a Grey Branch body would lead to a very interesting plot and HUGE changes in how Poppy sees him. Plus I’m totally Groppy starved so Branch gets to suffer again I’m sorry bby :(

---

Hi friends!!! I said I'd add the chapters of my fics to Tumblr for those that either don't use AO3 or just simply wish to find the fic elsewhere when AO3 is down. So uhhh.. Here ya go!

I'm gonna be real... I actually don't really like most of these early chapters as this was literally my first time writing, but it's nostalgic to look back at I guess... ^^;

*Start* | Next >

[the-crimson]

I need everyone to understand that q!Tubbo, q!Bbh and q!Aypierre spent seven hours fighting a psychological war today and they lost… but it prevented both teams from dying and no one will ever know.

(All talk about character not ccs etc etc)

Tubbo wasn’t there during the egg battle so he doesn’t feel the betrayal and humiliation that the other two do. He looks at green team and sees his friends. People he cares about. He doesn’t want them to lose especially not like this! He’d made up his mind the moment he learned of the event. No one was going to die.

Aypierre looked at green team and saw the snakes who broke their promise to tie the previous challenge. Why would they agree to tie this time when they’ve already proven to be untrustworthy? They betrayed him. They humiliated him and his entire team. This was his opportunity for revenge. Why shouldn’t blue team take it?

Bbh is much more in the middle. He agreed with the premise of a tie because he wanted to give green a fighting chance. He had a gut feeling it wasn’t going to work but he was willing to try. However, he didn’t trust green either. The whole time he was paranoid about green logging in at the last minute to scrounge together the quests to beat them. He was constantly reminding the group to stay together so they couldn’t be killed in case green logged in. He did not trust green to keep to the deal but he was willing to try.

For the first five or so hours of the streams the three had too many conversations to count where Aypierre would try to convince them to just say fuck it and turn in their tasks. To break the tie and be done with it! But each time bbh and Tubbo manage to hold him back and keep to the plan. It was only when bbh and Aypierre were in green’s secret base standing in front of green’s merchant that Aypierre finally caved and turned in his missions.

This was one battle lost. The next was Aypierre and Tubbo pulling bbh in two different directions and Tubbo choosing to give Green the quest items to rebalance the score. Two different battles that culminated in the single decisive moment of bbh claiming all of his missions. But what happened leading up to that moment? Chaos.

Various members of green team were logging in and out for the next two hours which only fueled bbh’s paranoia even more. Aypierre was trying to convince him to just claim the tasks the games already over! While Tubbo was confident they could still tie the score. It all went to shit in the last fifteen minutes.

Bbh and Aypierre discovered the quest items were gonna from the chest and Tubbo was lying to them about where he was. Tubbo made an executive decision to try and balance the score knowing the other two were too on the edge and chaotic at the moment. They’d discussed potentially giving green some items to tie the score but this was never agreed to and bbh and Aypierre had no idea what Tubbo was giving them.

They arrive at the center and the score starts changing and bbh starts panicking. Aypierre calls Tubbo a traitor for going behind their back and bbh is trying to mediate and figure out what’s going on - what did Tubbo do? Tubbo doesn’t explain fully so bbh assumes he gave both ElQuackity and Roier the quest items. Then Mouse logs in and bbh’s paranoia goes into overdrive. Did green have the items stockpiled and ready for Mouse to turn them in to sweep the victory last second? It’s happened twice before so it’s not out of the question. Bbh looked at the being Coco that acted so much like his son and asked, and it told him to cash in the quests. So he did.

At this point, everything was pure adrenaline. All bbh was thinking was save Dapper. “Run over anyone you need to to win”. If it ended as a tie or if blue won, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he could not LOSE.

All three of blue fought so incredibly hard today it’s incredible. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ccs aren’t completely emotionally exhausted. Aypierre gave into his revenge after fighting it for nearly five hours straight. Bbh gave into his paranoia after fighting it for SEVEN HOURS straight. Tubbo gave into his need to do the right thing at any costs by going behind his team’s back which lead to the miscommunication that lead to that pivotal moment.

Blue failed today. They fought an internal war for seven hours and they lost at the very last moment. But in so doing, they saved their entire team. And they’ll never know. And no one will ever know. They will continue being the villains in this story even though no one on red or green knows what they went thought mentally today. None of them understand that it took seven hours of constant stress for them to break when they could have cashed the quests and secured victory within an hour.

In the end, Aypierre said it best “Either we win a fraud or die a villain.”

[ghosts-in-the-studio]

MAJOR BREAKING: CNN drops the bombshell news that a U.S. intelligence assessment has discovered that Donald Trump’s illegal bombing of three Iranian sites failed to destroy the “core components” of the country’s nuclear program.

Trump’s premature victory lap will go down as a historic embarrassment…

According to the new report, Trump’s claim that the targets were “completely and fully obliterated” was patently false. He was so eager to claim a victory for his braying MAGA base that he totally jumped the gun.

The Pentagon’s Defense Intelligence Agency has concluded that the strikes likely only set Iran’s nuclear program back by a few months, an utterly meaningless delay in geopolitical terms. The assessment was based on battle damage surveyed in the wake of the strike.

Four sources familiar with the assessment spoke to CNN. Two of them stated that Iran’s enriched uranium stockpile survived the bombings. Another stated that the centrifuges remain mostly “intact.”

NBC News previously reported that the “extent of the damage to the deeply buried facility at Fordo” as well as the sites at Isfahan and Natanz has yet to be determined. According to that report, roughly 400 kilograms of 60% enriched uranium is still “publicly unaccounted for.”

The New York Times reports that the uranium in question could be enough to make nine or ten atomic bombs.

The Trump administration is already scrambling to do damage control.

“This alleged assessment is flat-out wrong and was classified as ‘top secret’ but was still leaked to CNN by an anonymous, low-level loser in the intelligence community,” said White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt.

“The leaking of this alleged assessment is a clear attempt to demean President Trump, and discredit the brave fighter pilots who conducted a perfectly executed mission to obliterate Iran’s nuclear program,” she added. “Everyone knows what happens when you drop fourteen 30,000 pound bombs perfectly on their targets: total obliteration.”

It’s worth noting that the House and Senate were supposed to receive classified briefings on the strikes today but those briefings were canceled. The Senate briefing has been rescheduled for Thursday. The obvious conclusion is that Trump doesn’t want Congress to know that his attacks failed until he’s had time to spin up a new narrative.

“Trump just cancelled a classified House briefing on the Iran strikes with zero explanation. The real reason? He claims he destroyed ‘all nuclear facilities and capability;’ his team knows they can’t back up his bluster and BS,” Congressman Pat Ryan wrote on X.

This is textbook Trump. He doesn’t care about reality, he cares about driving media cycles and projected a fabricated reality to his followers. It doesn’t matter to him if the nuclear facilities were actually destroyed as long as he can claim that they were.

[anony-man]

You’re so right anon. Allow me to expound upon that a little… >:)

Chubformers drabble #209!

Characters: Optimus (& Bumblebee - G1)

Word count: 1.2k

Optimus sunk into his berth with a long, contented sigh. His frame was aching, and his energon reserves were low, but despite it all, it had been a good day. Success was abundant, and the Autobots were safe, sound, and happy (assuming from the noise in the mess hall, which only grew louder and more joyful with every passing moment).

He enjoyed the mirth of his fellow teammates, and he enjoyed indulging in the occasional celebration after a good, long fight or a big day full of reconnaissance missions and restocking their fuel reserves. He was tired, though, and more often than not, he needed a bit of time to come down from the shared high and reflect on his own accord.

The role of a Prime never stopped, not even after the danger had passed and the dust had settled. Optimus was the Prime with the answers at the start of their day during important debriefings and mission overviews, and he was still the same Prime at the end of the day when things were finally calming down. It was what made retreating to his quarters for the evening so special—and so important—as he couldn’t quite do the same bit of decompressing in the public eye as he managed to do behind closed doors.

The Autobots cared for him as equals, and he them. When it came down to it, though, he was still a Prime, and he still had his responsibilities and role to keep up. In the privacy of his quarters with an expansive and comfy berth and the silence to keep his racing processor company for a while, Optimus could finally relax.

His movements were tender and slow, and he was careful not to spill a single drop of the sweet, fresh cube picked out for him by his team. Nothing beat a ration from a stockpile refilled that day. It was the best energon out there anymore, save for the bottles of engex still corked and kept in storage under his berth. It was like a taste of him with every sip he took, and the refreshing comfort of fresh energon on his tongue brought him straight back to the archives back on Cybertron.

Optimus hummed his satisfaction as he leaned back against the wall and cupped a servo over his belly, the cube in grasp sitting perfectly atop the soft, domed shape. He was getting chubby in his old age… but really, he didn’t mind as much as he probably should.

He wasn’t expecting company that night, as most ‘Bots had either stuck around in the mess hall for the celebration or trickled back down the halls to the barracks and their private quarters. It was why a small knock at his door caught him by surprise, and before Optimus could so much as get past the startled surprise of company at his door, the pin-pad was lighting up and the sliding door was opening.

Bumblebee stood on the other side, looking flushed but happy. Optimus relaxed. He wasn’t all that surprised by the visitor anymore.

“Good evening, Bumblebee,” Optimus said, his optics softening around the edges as he watched the minibot stand and stall in the doorway. “How are things amongst our team?”

They were lively still. With the door open, Optimus could hear the hoots and cheers of various Autobots.

Bumblebee usually didn’t come by Optimus’ quarters so late, but after a few too many cubes in such a small frame, the mech’s inhibitions were muddied. It was a prime night for a bit of team bonding, too, and Optimus knew he wasn’t immune from it.

It was hard to stay in such crowded environments for so long, but this? A bit of one-on-one time with a companion he’d grown close with? He could handle that just fine. He craved it, really, and that made Bumblebee’s unexpected appearance all the more appreciative.

“Come in,” Optimus said as he gestured to the berth. “There is plenty of room.”

It was a big berth, but he was a big mech. Nevertheless, there was always room for another. Ratchet came by often, especially in the mornings, as did Prowl and Hound, and Bumblebee. All for different reasons, all in similar settings. The berth was comfortable, and Optimus made good company—especially when you were a tipsy minibot who wanted nothing more than the warm comfort of your leader’s big, soft belly.

Bumblebee wobbled his way across the room and struggled to work his tongue around the words he wanted to speak in the process. It was the same thing as always, Optimus imagined, the whole “things are getting noisy in there and I just need a good, soft berth to sleep in with a good, soft companion to keep me company.” It was what Bumblebee always said when he came by for a visit—or a nap, in most cases.

Ratchet would always say similar. Something about catching up between the sheets and making up for lost time. Prowl, too, though he never got much farther than sneaky glances at his leader’s soft frame while he went over private and important information in hushed whispers. Old Hound never had any troubles with snuggling up close to Optimus and keeping good company, and neither did Bumblebee.

It was the belly, probably. Maybe it was his company. Maybe it was both… he wasn’t all that sure, but he enjoyed it all regardless.

Optimus set aside his cube and made room for Bumblebee to get comfortable, which the minibot did right away. He had no qualms about settling into the berth and smuggling close to the Prime’s belly, and he was more than happy to sigh and hum and purr his contentment right after. Optimus always entertained the theatrics—he appreciated them, too. It made him feel wanted.

“Boy, can those ‘Bots keep it busy,” Bumblebee huffed before slumping against the berth and entering the get-comfy ritual as he snuggled up to Optimus’ frame—the contented sighs, hums, and purrs were quick to follow. “Hope… hope you don’t mind me… crashin’ here for a while.”

Optimus’ amusement grew at the dramatic slurs and nuzzles from his minibot companion. Overcharged or no, Bumblebee still happily knew what to do.

“Not at all,” he said as he, too, made himself comfortable.

Bumblebee was free to stay as long or as short as he liked, and from past experience, Optimus knew the minibot would probably stay a while. It was nice. His own solitude was important, but this was nice. Not even a moment later did Bumblebee begin to snore, his face pressed against the curve of Optimus’ belly. It was a ticklish sensation, but the Prime didn’t dare move.

Bumblebee was warm—warmer than normal. Optimus was careful to shift into a more comfortable position, but once he did, he reached for the control panel by his berthside and turned off the lights. Bumblebee didn’t move an inch, and that was example how Optimus wanted it.

Come morning, Bumblebee would likely still be here. Ratchet would come by, too… Optimus was sure of it.

“Goodnight, Bumblebee,” Optimus murmured, his servo resting back down against his belly.

He valued his alone time, but he appreciated being wanted. A minibot snuggled with him for the night wasn’t on the agenda, but oh, it was now… and Optimus wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.