#and heal up gals giving ya hugs!

[batshikns]

Grace and Frankie is the best show ive watched change my mind

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 - Final

Part 14:

A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.

To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.

While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.

It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.

The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.

As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.

For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.

Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.

Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!

(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)

Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."

"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.

"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.

"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.

"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"

"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.

"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"

After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.

With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).

Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.

You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.

Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.

Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.

Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.

Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.

Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.

Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?

"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.

He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"

You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"

You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"

"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.

"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.

Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.

You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"

"I've been ready for decades."

Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!

The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.

Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."

You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!

"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!

Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.

The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"

"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.

Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.

"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.

You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.

"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."

You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.

"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."

Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!

"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.

"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."

As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.

Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.

Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.

It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.

"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters @galaxywing-has-adhd @ggyalruu @trashbin-nie @fudosl @night-shadowblood-writes2 @memospacexx @yuraaahs @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @ghostdoodlen @moschinski @cannibalcoyote @missam @reader3 @yourworstgf @justaproudslytherpuff @milkspong3 @xdolls-crownx @1potato2rulethemall @1rxsemary1 @xxcrispxx @zardward @robin-the-enby @mylenapony11 @silvermoondarksky @bootylimpics @amarokofficial @euphoricaphrodite @blueyobsessedgirly @need-a-therapist @knifukiller @huayan @hwrimonsjer @no1sillybilly @kimmikreates @icarus-has-falllen @watchinthestarz @lady-lik3r @yunxi-11085 @luzzbuzz @tsukilover11 @plntmxrss @houmi @demoarah @papas-ghoulette @trashbin-nie @d-darlingyourbleeding @hallothankmas

[sentientcave]

Part 1 - Part 2

Contains: Gals being pals, homoerotic speculation, brief mentions of alcohol and kink (conversationally)

SFW - Word Count: ~2.8k

You only had a few days to get used to living with Soap before she was gone again, but now, without her exuberant presence, the apartment feels emptier than it did when it was just you living there. You fall into a familiar pattern, running the occasional errand, but mostly just getting up, getting coffee, going to work and going home. It’s… lonelier than you expected.

You’re not sure when to expect her back. When you’d asked, she’d just laughed. “As long as it takes, kitty. Dinnae worry. I’ll have Katie send ye the rent if I’m no’ back before month end.” She didn’t explain who Katie was, and you were a bit afraid to ask. She’d probably just tell you that it’s a classified matter anyway.

The idea that she could be gone that long, or even longer, makes your stomach clench with worry. Perhaps you’ve only known Jamie for a week or so, really, but she’s already gotten under your skin and made a home for herself. There’s signs of her all over your apartment too— The big green couch, her 3 in 1 soap in the shower (That you’re pretty sure she didn’t use once during the days she’d been there, electing instead to use your products), her winter jacket in the closet, her ‘going out’ boots in the hall. A picture of her and her cousins stuck to the fridge with a Rangers Football Club magnet. It’s the only picture you have of her, and it’s many years old, featuring a gangly, teenaged Jamie that hadn’t filled out into the powerhouse of a woman that you’d met.

You’re wiling away the hours at work, when your favourite barista, Alex, comes in after her shift and chats with you while she browses the romance section. She only ever buys the ones with horny oil paintings on the cover. For the aesthetic, she says, but you're pretty sure she's just a harlequin fan. You can’t blame her. You love a good romance too.

"You ever go to those workshops?" she asks while you’re cashing her out. She gestures at the board behind you. "I've been thinking about going to the ropes one, but haven't worked up the courage to go alone."

"No! I probably should sometime. I think my landlord runs one of them. I'm not sure which though." You slide her books into a paper bag and hand her the receipt.

"Here. I'll give you my number in case you ever want someone to go with. I think it could be fun." She scribbles down her number on the back of her receipt and slides it back across the counter to you with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about—”

The door jangles. “Heya, kitty!” It’s Jamie, grinning ear to ear, a freshly healed scar on her chin and a bandage on her arm, covering half of her SAS tattoo. She sidles past Alex and comes around the counter to hug you tightly. She smells like sweat and gunpowder. She must have come straight to you after getting home. “Missed ya. Been a right slog the last few weeks. Ghost got hisself shot and ugh, he’s all fine out in the field, carryin’ on no problem, but as soon as we’re back at the safe house he’s cryin’ about how much he needs me tae take care of him. Just an absolute wet biscuit of a man.” She glances over at Alex, like she hadn’t even noticed her standing there. “Oh, hello, cutie. Sorry, didnae mean to interrupt.” Her eyes zero in on the reciept with the phone number scrawled across it.

“Oh, it’s, um, it’s fine,” Alex says nervously. “Are you— Um—”

“Alex, this is Jamie. She’s my new roommate. Jamie, Alex. She works at the coffee shop down the way.”

Jamie sticks a hand out, but leaves her other arm wrapped around you. “Nice ta meet you. Been in there a couple times but ye must work the mornin’ shift, aye? I’m always due on base early mornin’.”

“So, you’re, um, military?” Alex asks. She winces slightly when Soap shakes her hand.

“Sure am. Sorry, hen, didnae mean to squeeze so hard. Ye get used to it bein’ a bloody cock measuring contest with the lads on base. Gotta adjust for civvies.” She smiles apologetically. “What were you girlies goin’ on about before I came in? Don’t want to leave your conversation unfinished before I get to monopolizin’ our girl’s time, aye?”

“We were just talking about the workshops. On the board. Alex mentioned that she was thinking about going to the ropes one.”

“Is that the one yer handsome landlord runs?” Soap asked. “And is it like, knots for boats and whatnot, or the fun kind? Wouldnae mind tyin’ ye up, kitty.”

“I’m… Not sure. It’s kind of unclear, but there’s an email listed. I’ll get some clarification.” You give Soap a side-long glance. She looks a bit more excited than you’re sure what to do with. “And besides that, there’s no way I’m letting you tie me up.”

The light in her eyes only gets more intense. “You gonna tie me up, kitty? Have yer way with me?”

Alex clears her throat, looking a bit nervous. “Well, um. I’ll see you around. Text me and let me know about the course. Or if you just want to hang out. I’m free after one like every day.”

“I can also keep you apprised of when we get a truck-load of harlequins in, give you the first go through,” you say. “I’ll see you Wednesday, eh?”

“Yeah. Bright and early.” She smiles at you. “And, um, nice to meet you, Jamie the roommate.”

“See ye around, Alex the coffee girl.” Soap waited for the door to close behind Alex before she spoke again. “Looks like she’s got a little crush on ye, kitty. Didnae know I had so much competition.”

You roll your eyes. “She doesn’t. She’s just being friendly.”

“Oh sure, kitty. Me too.” Soap withdrew a step and leaned against the counter. “Ye want to come out for a pint tonight? It’s a tradition, with me and the lads. We go out, get blootered, captain goes home early, Gaz flirts with someone’s girlfriend, and then we have a scrap outside an’ Ghost breaks it up. Ye can help him, it’ll be good ta have another voice’f reason to balance us out.”

“I think a pint is a far cry from, er, getting blootered,” you say, laughing. “But sure. I don’t start work till eleven tomorrow. I can stand to get a little silly. So long as you’re sure the lads don’t mind. I don’t want to overstep.”

“No’ possible. They like you a lot. Maybe a little too much, if ye ask me. I’m goan to head home and get cleaned up, aye? Do ye mind if I eat the leftovers in the fridge? I’m starvin’.”

“You already ate them, didn’t you?” you ask. There was really no other reason why she would know that there were leftovers to eat.

“Weal. Yes. But yer a kind soul, kitty. I knew ye’d say yes. I’ll buy all yer drinks tonight tae make up for it.”

“Oh fine,” you say. It’s hard to even imagine being mad at her. You suspect that it’s a waste of energy, when she’s just a big puppy dog of a person. Scolding her for anything isn’t likely to change her behaviour, it’s just going to make her feel terrible during the scolding. And you don’t quite have the heart to scold Soap, with her big blue eyes. “I was going to go round to the shops tonight, so maybe you can go tomorrow? I have a list, and I can give you money for it. I just work till five and I won’t have a chance.”

“I can do tha’, kitty. When d’ye get off work today? Three?”

“Five. A couple more hours. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Hours! Aw, c’mon, kitty.” She pouted, as though that were going to get you out of work any faster. “Can’t ye close up early? There’s no one here.”

“Jamie, it’s my job. If I closed up early every time I felt like it I wouldn’t have a job for very long, and then you’d be the one looking for a new roommate.”

Jamie grumbled about how she wouldn’t let that happen, as if she had any control over the state of your finances, but headed home to shower without too much more complaining, although she rather disconcertingly mentioned offhand, as she was heading out the door, that she would go through your closet and find you something cute to wear. You really hoped that didn’t mean pull everything out of your dresser drawers and make a mess.

Things pick up at the shop enough to keep you from dwelling on what Jamie was up to— And she was uncharacteristically quiet on her end as well, only texting you once with a blurry picture of Red Herring scampering down the hallway captioned with CREATURE SIGHTING, and a second one of her and Red cuddled up on the couch, faces smushed together. You take a sneaky picture of a customer with a yellow coat and bright orange boots with Big Bird: Confirmed written across it. You’re careful to leave their face out of frame, but you do feel a bit bad about it, and elect to ‘accidentally’ not ring through one of the books, giving it to them for free instead. The return text makes your transgression against public decency almost worth it.

LMFAOOO<

Finally, it’s time to lock up the store and walk home. It gets dark early now, and the sun is already setting over your street, the shadows growing long, the gold light of dusk painting the edges of the clouds, and the buildings with a little gilt paint. It feels good to know that Jamie’s home. You feel like you can breathe properly again, like you’d been holding your breath for weeks and weeks, not knowing if she was alright. You’d been sleepwalking through your days, and you’re finally awake again, able to appreciate the colour of the sky and the half-familiar and familiar faces you walk by. You know you must be smiling, because you get plenty of smiles in return.

Happiness is an infectious thing.

You check the mailbox for the usual pile of flyers and bills, and sort through them on the way up the stairs. Mostly just junk, and your internet and credit card bills. And an envelope with so many stamps on it that your address is written off to the side in cramped letters. There’s no return address on it.

You unlock the door and drop your bag to the side, in it’s usual spot. Soap’s work boots are neatly placed beside the nearly identical ‘going out’ boots, dusty and worn in from the weeks away. Jamie is sitting at the table, scribbling in a notebook, Red Herring sitting on the table beside her, bapping at the end of her pen every time it approaches his side of the notebook.

"Hm-- Oh! Hi, kitty!" Jamie closes the notebook, tucking her pen inside, and gets up from her seat at the table. Her hair is wet, down around her shoulders to air dry, and she's wearing a tank top and a pair of black boxer shorts with a skull pelvis on them. You suspect that they belong to Ghost. The idea that he wears skulls all the way down to his skivvies makes you like him even more.

Are they dating? You're not sure what the rules are for military relationships, but you suspect that a lieutenant dating a sergeant is not allowed under usual circumstances. Not that you could blame them. Ghost is huge and actually pretty sweet, under the growly voice and mask. He was covered in cat hair by the time he'd gone home, all those weeks ago, because Red liked him so much. And Jamie was a tall, beautiful, muscled-up amazon woman. And they had their whole warriors bond thing going on. It wouldn't be a surprise for them to be interested in each other. The flirting she’s been doing with you is likely no more than just playful fun. You don’t really mind, you just have to keep yourself from reading into it too much.

“Welcome home, by the way,” you say as Soap grabs you into an even tighter hug than before. “I missed you. And I was starting to get worried.”

“You didnae get my letter?” she asked.

“Letter?” you ask. You hold up the envelope with all the stamps. “This?”

“Oh! Guess it didnae make it back before I did. No time to read it right now, kitty. Ye’ve got ta get ready.” She pulls the stack of mail from your hand and tosses it down on the counter before dragging you down the hallway towards your room.

“Do I have time to shower?” you ask mildly.

“Do ye need to?” Soap leans in and sniffs you audibly, trying not to laugh. “Smell fine to me, kitty.”

You giggle and swat her away. “I could smell better."

“Bah. Fine. I’ll wait in yer room, I found a few cute outfits for ye.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be a few, if you want to get ready yourself.”

“Psshh, it only takes me a minute. Want ye to help me with my eyeliner too, if you don’t mind. Ye do that little swooptie thing? Whenever I try tha’ I cannae get them even.”

“Of course.”

You shower and towel dry your body, before you wrap it around yourself. It's one of those nice extra big ones that actually covers everything. You bought it after making a mad dash across the hall when Fern's boyfriend was staying over, trying not to flash him, and made the decision immediately after to not go through that kind of stress again. He had become a too-regular presence in your home to ignore in the months before Fern moved in with him.

Jamie makes you try on five different outfits before letting you settle on a skirt that hits around the knee and a flowy yellow tank top, and she finally goes to get dressed herself while you dab on makeup and fix your hair. After weeks apart, having Soap back is refreshing, even if she does have a low tolerance for personal space. Out in the field, that closeness is probably necessary, it probably keeps her and her teammates alive, but here it only serves to fluster you and set your off balance. Jamie doesn’t seem at all aware what effect she has on you, and her flippant, flirty comments don’t help matters either.

Helping her do her makeup is the trickiest part, really. She’s twitchy and fidgety, and you end up pinning her flat to the flat to your bed, one hand holding her jaw and the other holding your eyeliner pen, a knee on either side of her rib cage. The angle is awkward when you do the other eye, and you have to lean in closer, steadying your wrist against her forehead. You don’t remove your hand from her jaw until you’ve finished either, well aware that she’ll start talking the moment you release her and make it impossible to finish up neatly.

“There!” you say, sitting back to admire your handiwork. She blinks up at you for a long moment, her blue eyes made all the more bright by the contrasting band of black on her upper lid. “Actually—” You twist and grab your makeup bag, and grab her face again, adding a swipe of peachy pink lip-gloss to her mouth.

Uncharacteristically, she just lays there for a moment, still quiet, looking dazed and flushed. For a moment, you feel a rush of… Well, you would hesitate to call it euphoria, but there’s a certain satisfaction in rendering Soap speechless and pink, when she’s an amazon, and you’re just a round little woman who’s idea of a workout is stocking shelves and crating books around.

But then again, you are sitting directly on her diaphragm, and you know you aren’t light. “Oh, goodness, I’m squishing you, aren’t I?” you scramble to get off of her, and offer her a helping hand up. “We should get going.”

“Right. Yeah. O’course, kitty. Let’s go.” She pulls in a deep breath, shaking off the daze, her familiar devastating grin sliding back into place. “Wouldnae want to keep the lads waiting, aye?”

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but you think, just maybe, she does want to keep them waiting. You snag a cardigan from your closet and stop to to give Redd Herring a scritch behind the ears before you follow her out into the hallway and lock up the apartment.

She offers you her arm, like she’s some kind of gentleman (which she would not be, even if she was a man), and you take it, looking forward to the night out.

***

Image Credits:

Top Row: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 Bottom Row: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 Background

Any other graphics used are canva elements

[rogue-barnes-16]

HEAL ME (part IX/X)

Summary: she was a nurse. He was a soldier. They fell in love at first sight. It was beautiful, true love. But something isn’t beautiful because it lasts.

Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x nurse!Reader

Title: You'll never know

Genre: hypocritical fluff

Tags:

Heal me: @just-add-butter @mannls @bethanyzed @fandom-addict-aesthetics @kitttysblog @roxytheimmortal @futuremrspeterparkerholland @i-am-a-fandom-slut @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @chook007 @avengersassemblee @littlephoenix-fire @androgynouswolfcookiemug @babyplutoszx2 @calspalkira @unnecessarydelivery @-lilacnialler- @silver-winter-wolf

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @almostmellowsalad @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, angst, death

A/N: if you got this far, you just know you're about to suffer. If it makes y'all feel better, I suffered writing it, too so yeah, we're even. Hope you "enjoy" it lol <3.

Heal me masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

STEVE'S P. O. V.

I sighed, arms crossed over my chest while my mind roamed the pros and cons of Bucky's request. "She's gonna get mad." I finally replied, lifting my eyes to look at my bestfriend. "She's gonna get really mad, Buck."

"C'mon Steve." he whined, taking a couple of steps in my direction. "I didn't ask for anything in all this time, now I need ya to do me this favor and you're gonna say no?"

I shook my head no. "that's the thing, pal, 's not a regular favor." I peaked at our sides and lowered my tone to speak again. "You're asking me to leave our nurse out of this mission."

"alright, Stevie. Tell me ya think she's needed in this mission." he retorted, slowly building up a point that I knew I wouldn't be able to take down. "Let's say someone gets hurt, what do we do? We take whoever it is all the way back to the cliff?" I averted my eyes, well aware that he was right. "It's a suicide mission, either we come back with Zola, or we don't come back. So please, leave her out of this one." I pursed my lips, still hesitant about taking that decision. "Steve, for fucks sake, I love her."

I took a moment before responding. "She's gonna hate me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

"what the hell was that?" I questioned, genuinely confused about Steve's decision to leave me out of this one mission, alleging zero reasons. "He can't fuckin' do that without Philips' permission."

"Ya heard him, ya ain't coming." Bucky stated putting on his blue coat without sparing me one single look. "ya ain't needed."

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?" my question held a warning tone, letting him know I didn't like one bit what he was saying.

"we don't need medical assistance in this one." he replied, a little quieter than his voice had been in the previous sentence.

"Suddenly y'all know when I'm needed?" I started to pace.

"Ya heard Steve, doll."

"Yah, and now he's gonna hear me." I made my way to Captain America's tent, but right before reaching it, Bucky’s hand was tugging my arm. "what the hell ya doin' now?"

He only let go when we were far enough from the camp for them to hear us. "It wasn't Steve's idea." he confessed. "I don't want you to come."

"You can't do that." I stated in a growl-like tone. "You can't leave me out of missions 'cause you're scared of losing me." I stepped closer to him, not breaking eye contact for a single second. "you think I ain't scared of losing ya?" I whispered with concern mixing with the anger in my voice. "you think I don't wanna pull your self-deprecating ass outta the battlefield and drag you back to Brooklyn?" he slightly tilted his head to the side, his slate blue eyes roaming all over my body, and getting lost here and there. "But I don't do it, 'cause I know I can't,' cause this doesn't work like that."

"what if you could?" his hushed tone made it seem as if he was about to confess a secret no one knew. "What if it worked like that?" I frowned, not really understanding what he wanted me to. "what if we come back home?"

"What- what d'ya mean?" I muttered, trying not to get any hopes beforehand.

His fingers intertwined with mines hesitantly, and, after licking his lips, a half smile that I had only see the night we met appeared in his gaze. "y'know what I mean." he closed the distance between us, his lips ghosting over mines. "I wanna take ya back to Brooklyn, to a house of ours."

"Bucky..." I could feel my legs shaking as swallowed, trying to calm down before attempting to form a proper sentence. "I... Steve-- what 'bout Steve?"

"That punk got this handled, and Carter got him handled. I've had enough of this bullshit," he murmured, pecking my lips in the most tender way. "I just wanna wake up every day in an actual bed with you besides me. I wan' a future with my best gal that doesn't include war and death."

His eyes, that had been casted down to our feet during his little speech, came back to mine, and to his dismay —and to my damn luck—, I saw the trick. "Ya gonn' ask me to stay out of this mission again, and then ya gonna promise me we'll leave when you come back, don't ya?"

"Doll..." he clenched his jaw, unable to deny that disappointing truth that had just ruined my brief hopes.

"ya think I'm a lil gal?" I inquired, pulling away from him. "you'll come back, and we won't leave, I'm not stupid James."

"Please trust me on this one." he pleaded, with pain in his voice, the same pain that was making my heart clench, the pain caused by the fact that what Bucky had just described was impossible. "Please Y/n... Why can't ya trust me?"

"Fuck 'cause it's been more than two years and you're still protecting Steve, not giving a fuck 'bout your life!" a tear was shed, but I was fast enough to wipe it away.

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

"we both know that when you come back, we're not leaving." she now refused to look at me in the eye, and, even if it hurt like hell, I knew why she wouldn't believe me.

But it was alright, she didn't have to believe me, I thought. "Ya don't take my word? Alright, you don't gotta, I'll prove it to ya." I informed her, trying my best to calm my nerves by gripping the ring in my pocket.

"Stark's already waiting for ya." she mumbled, hugging herself. "Ya better leave already."

I was going to leave, but a chill ran down my spine, and I stepped towards Y/n, taking advantage of her eyes fixed on the plane situated in our left to steal a kiss from her lips.

"I love you." I waited a few seconds for her to say it back, but she didn't. Instead, she kept her eyes shut while a couple of tears ran down her cheeks. "and I know you love me, you don't gotta say it." I said, more to myself that to her, cleaning her tears. "See ya later, doll."

I turned around and, after taking a couple of steps away, I heard a weak whisper, tamed by the anger and the pride. "Come back to me, Barnes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

I hugged myself, standing in the outside of the camp. Not even the way too large for my size coat that belonged to Dum Dum was enough to endure a few minutes in the coldness of that night in London.

I wouldn't have come outside if it wasn't because we had just received a weak, really brief transmission from Gabe, informing us that they succeeded.

That's all he said, that they succeeded. Or at least all he had time to say. That they succeeded.

A minute or so after I had started to freeze out, I saw Stark's small plane preparing to land. I ran towards them, partially because I was so eager to fix things with Bucky —to tell him that I trusted him and I loved him, to assured him I believed him—, partially because I needed the heat provided by a run, even if it was the tiniest.

Gabe and Morita climbed out of the vehicle first, escorting Zola with both of his guns pointed at him. "Take him to the camp, then go straight to the infirmary, will ya?" Morita nodded without looking at me, and Gabe sniffed quietly.

It was then that I hesitated before resuming my approach to the plane, because now it felt as if something wasn't right.

As if the mission had gone wrong.

Since they came back with Zola, that didn't seem possible, but I wasn't able to shake that feeling away.

I wasn't in a rush any longer, because suddenly it came to me that maybe something had gone wrong, that maybe someone wasn't in the plane.

Dum Dum and Montgomery were the next to leave the plane, helping Steve.

Steve who had gotten injured, that was it, nothing else. Then, why couldn't I shake that goddamn feeling off me?

I peaked at the inside of the plane to see only Jaques inside with his face buried in both his hands. He was crying too.

But there was no body.

"Where's Bucky?" I questioned, turning around to face Steve. I double checked him and noticed he didn't have any injuries. "Steve. Where's Bucky." no one answered. "Where the hell is James?!"

"we-" Dum Dum swallowed, holding back his tears. He was the only one who dared to look at my face. "he- he fell off... the train."

The world around me stopped and everything disappeared for a moment.

"what?" I barely heard my own voice.

"he was with Steve and I think a hole..." Gabe's words digged deep into me. I no longer could hear what he was telling me, because Bucky had been protecting Steve.

I didn't think much about it. I couldn't. The next thing I remember was my hand slapping Steve's face with such a force that it made him stumble.

"Are you fucking HAPPY?!" my feet led me to Steve once again, probably ready to hit him again, but I felt a tug on both my arms, holding me back. "HE WAS HERE 'CAUSE OF YOU! CAUSE IN TWO GODDAMN YEARS YOU COULDN'T SEE HE WAS HURTING!!"

"Y/n—"

"and now FUCK- he got killed protecting you' cause that's the only thing he was here for!" I tried to reach him again and I felt another tug. "YOU FUCKIN' DRAGGED HIM HERE! AND YOU DRAGGED ME TOO! AND NOW HE'S DEAD AND THE ONLY REASON I'M NOT 'S 'CAUSE OF HIM"

My voice cracked. Badly. My legs hit the ground. I felt two arms hugging me and I realized it was Jaques when some French words were whispered against my hair.

I came to my senses just to realize I was crying heavily. Steve was too. After a while I would realized how guilty he felt, how bad my words stung his golden heart, but truth needed to be said.

Right?

Maybe not, maybe I was being terribly unfair, but I felt as if I was dying, and my mind was too focused on the regret and the pain, to realize I had made a mistake.

[agent-succubus]

(The result of watching too much Letterkenny and Stranger Things back to back)

She shouldn’t have even been on this mission in the first place.  The Statesman sure as hell didn’t want her here and with this particular mix, the feeling was very mutual.  Champ had only requested a Roanoke assist because of *vague* info stating that there might be occult activity within the terrorist compound the agency was investigating.

Succubus wasn’t cut out for spy work.  She knew that, Ale knew that, Rye knew that, hell even Vermouth knew that and she was the nicest of the Shit Show Cocktail of a team that Champ dropped Succubus in.  Why did *she* have to be the one on call today?

“What the hell are you doin’?  On your left!  Jesus, didn’t Roanoke at least teach ya to be aware on the field.  Stay behind us if you’re too nervous to shoot, kitten.”  Rye scolded, adding insult to injury with the patronizing pet name.

But Succubus had kept her mouth shut and moved to the rear of the group making a mental note to put a hex on him once they were back.  By the end of the mission though a small hex would be the least of her worries.  

There was no occult activity.  Just some old, useless symbols that the idiotic white supremacist terror cell thought brought it power.  There were, however, a lot of guns suddenly aimed at them when they made it to the main bunker.  All Succubus could focus on was how heavy the gun felt in her hands and how they weren’t rounds meant for cursed or dead things but actual bullets.  Actual bullets that left a spray of matter against the acid stained concrete wall when she landed a head shot, her first head shot since she left her life in Cryptic Revolutionists behind her.  She forgot how hard it was to stomach.

By the end of it the air was filled with smoke and the smell of iron so heavy Succubus could taste it at the back of her throat.  The team breathed a sigh of relief- until Vermouth dropped.

One of the outside guards they missed had creeped in behind them and shot Vermouth in the back, the bullet leaving an exit wound the size of a golf ball in her sternum and tearing her twill embroidered shirt in the process.  Ale put a bullet in the shooters throat as Rye and Succubus kneeled trying desperately to help.  Blood was bubbling up and pouring out of her mouth as she tried to speak clawing at both of them in a panic before her limbs finally settled and the horrible gurgle of her labored breathing ceased almost as soon as it started.  There was a moment of silence from both the team and handlers on the other side of the glasses before Ale broke it.

“Fix it.”  He said to Succubus in a voice that quivered with rage and denial.

“...what?”

“Fix.  It. You’re the freak who can do that, right?  Bring her back now.”

Succubus scoffed, “I can’t do that here.  This area isn’t cleansed, I don’t have any of my supplies for a full resurrection-”

Ale’s glasses were suddenly off and silenced before he reached down and pulled her up by the shirt bringing their faces so close she could see the blood vessels threatening to pop in his eyes, feel the sweat drip off his forehead.  Her own glasses getting thrown off in the process and crushed beneath Rye’s boot.

“You were supposed to watch the fucking back.  This is your fault!  Fix it now and bring her back or it won’t just be Statesman that loses an agent on this assignment.  I’ll make sure of it.”

He pushed her back to the floor and Succubus didn’t know what to do.  She looked to Rye hoping that maybe the stoic agent would talk some sense into his partner only to find his arms crossed, glasses in hand- also disconnected from HQ.  They were in the dark and she remembered how much of a boy’s club Statesman still was.  If they killed her now no one would question their story.  It reminded her of another group of boys her freshmen year of college and the stench of kerosene soaking into her hair and clothes.  She began to shake.

“I can’t I don’t have what I need to do it, I’m sorry Ale-”

Without hesitating Ale bent down during her pleading and picked up Vermouth’s shooter’s handgun that skidded across the floor.  The still hot muzzle pressed into the soft spot just under her ear.

“Fix her.”  His voice was still angry but Succubus could see the tears welling up and sliding down his cheeks.

She had never brought back a fatal gunshot to the chest before, especially not without some sort of soil conduit to protect her from absorbing all the death.  The area wasn’t even cleansed, still crawling with the spirits of the terrorists they had killed.  No chalk, no circle, no dirt- how could she do this without dirt?

“Ale’s lookin’ a little trigger happy, best get to movin’.”

Her nerves subsided to anger and she bit back, “You think you’re the first assholes to put a gun to my head?  You better pray this turns out peachy because if anything happens to me there will be a shitstorm coming for both of you.”

Worst case scenario she would just be indisposed for a few days, well actually no that was best case scenario, worst case scenario she’d absorb the gunshot completely and die from phantom wounds.  Neither sounded great but with the burn of the muzzle still pressing into her skin she got to work scraping off as much mud from her boots as she could and packing it into the hole in Vermouth’s sternum.  It was enough to fill the exit wound while Succubus closed her eyes, placing one hand over the gunshot and the other on Vermouth’s stomach.  Poltergeist had only ever told her about vestigial resurrection like this- crude and raw using nothing but the necromancer’s own power and even then most stories or legends that depicted it often mentioned the act as a last resort.  A sacrifice in almost all accounts.  

It was like holding onto an electric fence even as your body screams at you to let go.  

Succubus could feel the body convulse under her hands, the dirt that had been stuffed into the wound slowly developing into flesh to fill the gap, and the essence of death being absorbed into her own body.  It was much faster than traditional necromancy rites and thank goodness for that because Succubus couldn’t hold on for much longer.  Vermouth’s soul hadn’t actually gone far so when her body did finish healing and her brain began firing off again her soul slammed back in so hard it knocked all three of them flat while Vermouth shot up with a hand to her chest.

“Goodness gracious!  Y’all would not believe the dream I had, did I get knocked out?  What happened?  Whew I feel great, come on what are y’all doin’ on your butts let’s go!”

Still crying like a baby, Ale managed to scramble up and hug Vermouth until she pushed him off.  By now the glasses were back on and HQ was going insane about the black out, that only increased when Vermouth came into view and her vitals reappeared.  

“You...you brought me back?  I don’t know what to say, I mean you Roanoke gals have always kind of scared me, but...that was amazing, I feel great.  Thank you.”  Vermouth gave her a genuine smile and offered her a hand up.

Succubus took her offering and was going to give a rather cocky remark about how easy it was until her body remembered what exactly it absorbed and began forcing it back out.  The death essence coming up as thick, black bile with so much force it sent her to her knees as she vomited.  It didn’t stop.  Even when the extraction and med team finally arrived all they could do was dab the sweat off her forehead and turn her on her side while she slipped in and out of consciousness.  Succubus almost preferred the vomiting over the chest pains that followed when they made it back to HQ and although Lilith appeared trying to tell her she would be fine there was an uncharacteristic twinge of concern in her voice.

“Clementine, dearie just stay with us Cherub is going to take care of you and you’ll be right as rain.  Drake’s already got in contact with Hart and he’s on his way, we wouldn’t want to make him worry would we?”

“Lilith, I didn’t-” Succubus tried to explain but the pain got to be too much and her words disappeared into gasps.

She highly doubted there would be any kind of official disciplinary action since it was their word against hers and keeping the peace between Statesman and Roanoke had always been a rather delicate game.  Lilith would know that Succubus hadn’t gone through with the rite willingly because despite how reckless she *could* be, self sacrifice was not something she was.  And word about something like that travelled fast in Roanoke.  By the time they made it to the Roanoke med bay her body was going into toxic shock and it was getting harder to stay awake despite best efforts.  The only thing keeping her from going into total failure was the spiteful rage still boiling in her stomach and she would be damned if she was going to die without making Ale and Rye’s lives absolute hell.  

[flowerrose14]

random question ma'am, lets say if someone could relate to Anthony a lot, the way he acts, good and bad, how would you feel about that? would you feel its a bad thing or not?

hmm,goood question uwu But to be honest,it all depends on what you relate to with that nut case quq”I’d feel happy that i have an oc someone can relate to,but also worried depending on what tis is quq

Sooooooooo Let’s try this.

Anthony,is a nut case,someone who’s been through literal insanity and it’s side effects,but how? Well.Loss and the constant fear of being useless. Being dropped off at an orphange when he was still a baby,cause his parents didn’t want him (He’s half right there.) Eventually running away cause the orphanage itself was just hell,ran by people who didn’t give a damn. As a kid,he had to grow up fast to survive,know this world is damn cruel and ya gotta fight. About the age of 8,Anthony was already close to death,starving and weak,buuut he found someone.This being his soon to be blood brother,Benjamin.Benjamin and Anthony did hate eachother at first,but after Anthony saw the abuse the kid was gettin,he went and helped him. Anthony was “Adopted” into Benjamin’s family.His parents being stuck up,rich and mentally abusive to Benjamin and Anthony.Anthony was the only one though Benjamin’s parents would get physical with.

Oh we haven’t even the scratched the surface of this Nut case,but let’s try and speed a few things up shall we?

.As time went on,he fell in love,gal named Serena stole his heart.Someone else,being a fella named Karnish liked serena too,he asked her out,she said “No” and he ordered his father’s gang to kill her.Anthony broke completely,cause he found Serena’s body on that night when she was shot and he held her,not wanting to let her go.Benjamin and him grew up together and moved schools soon afterwards,and met a fella by the same of- “Blake”.”Blake” was one night kidnapped by Karnish’s gang,Anthony being too late to save him.Benjamin moved away and left Anthony,cause his parents didn’t want their son near that disgrace.Anthony the night Serena was shot dead,went to a certain casino and made a deal with the devil for a potion,a potion that would help with his work.This work was fueled by anger and heartbreak.But what was it? This work consisted of killing.Anthony swore to kill every single gang in town,but not innocent folks, none at all.He made sure to only kill people who damn well deserved death.A demon had began to form inside of him after drinking the potion,this being “Tod”.Tod would give Nutcase abilities. Healing,teleportation,control of darkness, know when people lie.But at a cost,he’d torture him day and night,break him all for fun really, and he told Anthony the day he drank all of the potion,is the day he could drag anthony straight down to hell.Anthony at the time believed cops were so damn useless at their job, it’s a reason he took matters into his own hands,but had got caught on a few occassions..Age 28 was when Anthony met a little lad named “Penn”,who he ended up saving,kid was only 8 years old and was an orphan himself.Penn gave him a reason to continuing working,but once he was 30,things began to hit him left and right.Anthony finally met someone,an angel,someone that could heal him

But let’s stop for a moment.What you could relate to? Anthony and his insanity, having a feeling of being useless or so much fear.Anthony knows his logic is flawed at times,and himself ain’t perfect.I wasn’t aiming to make a character without any flaws and was perfect to begin with,i wanted to make a character who was broken,but human.Anthony,cause of his choices,he started to drink, smoke at times.But Having someone like Penn around,he tried his best to stop,but he still can’t help but drink.Anthony is not a good person,but he isn’t a bad person,he just makes mistakes,horrible ones at times like all of us. I gave him sences of dread and fear that control his actions. I wanted to make a character that was lost too,unsure if this was alright and it has shown before, Anthony thinking about giving Penn to someone who would give him a better life.

I wanted a character with flaws,and i’ve asked a few folks.”Do you think he’s a good guy,or a bad guy?” most said bad,he was holding a mace at the time so-quq” But Anthony...Isn’t either,and that’s what i was aiming for,he loves his friends,will protect them at all costs but the constant fear of attatchment and what consquences it has.

It all depends on What you relate with.

Anthony is fun loving,tells insane amount of puns and dad jokes when he can, he loves being a papa and caring for others.He’s random as all hell and breaks the law of damn logic.He hates how small he is compared to his angel,but love him and everyone close to em so damn much. But he’s also,depressed,broken and messed up in the head at times,he’s an alcoholic and can go too far at times.

Anthony i tried to make human,not look human,but feel human.Have experiences,bad and good. at the end of the day,it just all depends on what you relate to with him. it could be the random stuff he does,or the angst stuff. but how would i feel? I’d want to know what first,and if you need any hugs for sure. I’d been scared in all honesty,cause going through half of these things are so damn tough,but i’m always here if ya need to talk.

if it’s the random stuff theeeeeennn-:”3 Nice to know my nut case and meh aren’t alone in tis uwu

thank you for the question,and i apologize for how long tis all is ^^” and if i’ve gone and messed a few things up -w-” for that,i deeply apologize for all the trouble ^^”

[intothewickedwood]

Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 2x08 Into the Deep

Oh my God this scene with wet!Hook is so hott. Have I mentioned I kinda ship Captain of Hearts romantically? Not like in a serious relationship but ya know, they totally did the do  ;).

I have no idea if Hook is lying to Cora about his intentions being to bring the bean to her.

I love dark scenes. I just love the dark, okay?

Hook, I’m pretty sure Cora could kill you in seconds if she wanted to. She took down a whole bunch of people in the safe haven!

“We can discuss this,” he says giving her the sexy eye. I just know these two did more than just plot revenge!

Wow that’s some powerful magic! She’s holding only one heart and yet she is controlling all of them at once. I forgot just how powerful Cora was. And holy cow, is she bringing the dead “back to life”? That would mean what Whale did could be accomplished by magic alone with the right sorcerer.

I wonder if MM and Emma ever thought they would be stuck in the EF forever.

Holy sugar, I’m so glad I no longer believe in hell because that room scared the sugar out of me before! How awful would it be to be trapped their for an extended length of time? How awful would it be to return their in your nightmares?

Bless David and Regina, watching over Henry as he sleeps to make sure he’s okay. That’s me when my doggy, Happi has nightmares.

Look I’m a vegetarian, but I gotta admit, replace the meet with some veggie burgers and those burgers and huge ass chips look yummy!

I wonder what happened with Granny and Rumple for her to have a complicated relationship with him.  

Ketchup is definitely some powerful magic. Rumples voice: “It can make any food, nasty or otherwise, taste delicious.”

Have I mentioned I love Aurora’s outfit and I love that she has a purple dress ‘cause they mixed pink and blue!

Lol. Aurora is me in a forest getting caught on thinks. Actually never mind a forest, the amount of door handles I’ve been attacked by would frighten you.

You go Aurora! It’s so kind of her to do whatever she can to help MM and Emma.

Mr. Gold: “Once upon a time, Snow White and Prince Charming needed to stun a very powerful magician, long enough to lock him up in a dark dungeon.” Henry: “That was you. They used Cinderella to trap you with a magic quill.” Season one feels! I’m enjoying season two but my god, season one is just so special to me!

Once upon a time having giant squids is so taken from Harry Potter. I recently found out that giant squids aren’t mythical. They actually exist!

Mulan stroking Aurora’s forehead!! My sleeping Warrior heart!! Mulan deserved to be with Aurora. And now she’s tucking her in! Oh my god, help!!!!

The way Aurora spins up from the fire is so scary!

Oh snap! Cora’s minion’s! Seriously how did she do that??! They’re like inferi or something they are invincible. That must have been a really powerful spell!

Mulan crying for Aurora will be the death of me!

Ow! Poor Henry! As someone who got burnt on the foot by scolding hot water as a child, trust me that freaking hurts! I was in and out of hospital for months though. Henry sure healed quick! Oh yeah, magic!

Aurora’s being so brave! I freaking love her development!

Yes Aurora! You step on Cora’s foot with all your might!

“I’m not as stupid as you think, nor are my loyalties so easily bought.” What a gal!

Hey! Don’t hurt Aurora!

Tehe. How does one learn to speak bird. Does MM teach that at the school. Oh my God, imagine school in Storybrooke. Imagine if they teach magic there! Forget Hogwarts! I wanna go to Storybrooke high! So many fan fiction possibilities!

I think Cora is partly based on Maleficent with her black bird.

“I climbed a beanstalk for this, you go get your own!” Emma and Mulan being grown-ass adults.

Oh yeah, Gold healed Henry’s arm super quick! That makes sense.

David knows MM so well. Excuse me while I cry in snowing feels.

Sleeping hook! I shipped this for a while but I prefer Warrior Royals and Sleeping Warrior. I’m still working out my otp for original Hook.

Hook is playing a clever game here. I remember he took Aurora’s heart.

Is Hook being genuine with his message to Emma? I think he was trying to leave his options open.

I love when MM says things like, “if there’s one thing your father’s taught me it’s not to give up.” It reminds me of the family Emma has finally gained after all those years alone.

So that’s how you create a sleeping curse. Why couldn’t Regina have made that instead of stealing it from Maleficent and using that apple.

The EF definitely needed a school for magic. It could have saved Regina from seeking out Rumple.

Aww. Grandpa Charming hug!

It’s true, faith does run in their family.

Wait, I know time runs differently in the EF but is it really a good idea to send MM to sleep in the day?

David in the dark, what more could I ask for? I love the look of this place with the mirrors and the torch, It would be so creepy to be there alone.

Is he really holding that torch?!

Do not put that flame so near to your face!!

David is a clever boy figuring that out. I’d be stuck in that dark room forever. To be honest, the dark room is much more appealing than the fiery one.

Damn! Is the funky necklace broken?! He needed that.

MM angry

David always giving Snow hope <3 I love them so much!

Poor David’s all alone in that fiery room for God knows how long.

Mulan!!

The women are so powerful in this show, which I freaking love! You go Cora!

Cora revealing Hook’s chest with his Hook xD!!

O-oh! Cora’s got control of Aurora!

[jvnisms-blog]

♡♡          hey babes !! it’s ya gal charmi at it again, the mun of azami, with yet another chaotic child on my hands. meet jung woojin and find out more about him below the cut & hit me up for plots or like this and i will slide into your messages !! before you read on please be aware of these triggers: tw: eating disorder mention, tw: depression mention, tw: anxiety mention, tw: self harm mention, tw: parental death mention, tw: suicide mention, tw: domestic abuse mention. all of these are brief and very vague however i want y’all to be safe !! without further ado: 

BACKSTORY: 

was in and out of the adoption system most of his life and went to many toxic homes and families that were neglectful or abusive because he wasn't the perfect child they had dreamed of. at first thought he was never going to be fostered at all because he wasn't the ideal age or considered young enough really for many family setups to want him. 

was separated from his brother in the adoption system and has never fully got over it since they grew up closer than ever due to their circumstances and were more like twins. strongly believing for a long time they were the only ones who could look out for each other and make the miserable upbringing worth fighting through. he still believes he's the only one who can really protect his brother and tears himself apart thinking of how he might have suffered without him, if it was the same way he did. 

the father died of alcohol issues and early set heart failure. the mother decided in her grief and mourning she could not cope with the boys and got rid of them before taking her own life. both parents were fairly young when they had the boys, too young really. 

the boy grew up believing he was a monster and that he was far too violent for loving or to be loved. that he only brought destruction and damage everywhere he went. simply put he was too rough around the edges. 

was taught to believe that if he simply kept quiet and out of the way maybe his foster parents would love him more and he could make his life there more bearable.

his school and teachers did nearly find out but he always lied and covered it up well, in fact lying became increasingly easy because he didn't believe there was anything better waiting for him anyway, he did not want to be saved and a part of him still wanted to pray for the best in his foster parents, a sudden change. a part of him thought he was strong enough to deal with their violence bestowed upon him now. 

of course though this made him a very angry kid with a lot of secrets and a lot of pain he had to keep buried, a lot of the time he became too agressive with his friends and people who attempted to help him because it was all he knew, agressive spat out hurtful words and rash actions that are just a touch too brutal. a shove, words spat in faces. he's trying to be better though, he really is. he doesn't want to hurt or break things anymore. that's all. 

he's beaten up a lot, he tends to brush it off with a 'it happens' or 'it wasn't a big deal' when his ribs end up broken and he's taping them up himself etc.

some nervous dispositions that have stuck are things such as shaking a lot, folding arms in on himself and making himself appear smaller, biting his nails down over excessively.

abandoned foster child who fell prey to the system and came out worse for it because of it all is basically his whole niche. 

a lot of things become an argument even when he doesn't intend it, apologies can come out more like taunting. he can be sharp tongued and ugly with his words. 

in turn he's bad at accepting apologies even when he knows deep down things are his own fault. he struggles to find words that don't burn and hurt and take. he just doesn't know how to do comfort, he thinks he has the idea sometimes but he is scared to reach out and give the wrong touch, end up hurting more instead. 

he has an issue with touching in general. he doesn't let himself do it much, doesn't bestow it on others. he knows what he can be capable of how he can't control his own strength and he is terrified of himself.* biggest promise to himself is that he never hurts anyone even in the smallest way even when its justified in an emotional breakdown or when he is trying to keep himself from being abandoned once again. he won't let himself. 

' you know what they say about monsters. you know what happens to the people who love them. are you going to do that?' even if no one else is afraid of him. he is afraid of himself.

' your hands don't know how to be gentle, think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. you wolf boy, you war machine. you wouldn't know how to hold something magic and not destroy it...' 

is littered in bruises and scars and burn marks. 

CURRENT LIFE: 

since moving to daegu he has slowly made progress, healed, gotten better. he has worked away at himself until he made himself more of a tragic masterpiece than a messy splash of unfinished painting and blurry mottled colours. 

he lives with four friends, close friends who have been with him through everything and taught him how to healthily feel not only happiness and love but also let go of and exhale all of that pain and anger and violence he could not control. that was not his own but haunted him. aching to be placed somewhere else than inside his body which was too small to feel such hurt and heartbreak.

he got therapy after many tries with many therapists who botched up he eventually found one who worked and helped him look for new hobbies which would channel and turn his pessimistic and negative energy and burdens into something more beautiful or better managed. he slowly learned to trust himself at least a little bit more once again. she also helped him on a journey of distance without isolation so he could understand he would not do the harm he always imagined he was the root of. 

when he leaves his family, it is in the middle of the night with packed bags and not much else to his name. he thinks it'll be easier on everyone that way, no letters or texts or calls. in fact he breaks his phone and switches it out for a cheap new one when he's ready to be contacted once again. there are no goodbyes.

he spends four years just crashing on his friend's floor of their apartment who are a couple who practically raise him and take him under their wing and simply accept him in all his flawed and closed off excellence, simply listening and accepting and providing a safe haven without expectations of any kind. 

he works on painting, writing, gardening anything that will teach him how to love and nurture better than he did before. to see beauty and nourish it instead of destroy it or twist it. he learns piano finding romance in the music. 

he got over his eating disorder and began cooking, become a rather skilled chef with his friends help and had more regular meals especially under his guidance when he couldn't cook then the other would do it for him. feeding him steadily every day to build his appetite back up again. 

he took more care to exercise and keep his body and health much more good, nothing amazing but finally the average. he also got a couple jobs all that would help him with communication and learning new talents or discovering his own further.

slowly he stopped flinching every time someone tried to touch or did touch him. small touches from his friends ease him along, an arm slung around his shoulders, a hand in his own, a gentle hug. he finds a makeshift home and love and happiness where everyone isn't trying overly hard to find a way to nurse it into him.

eventually recently he has came to a point where he can cancel his therapy sessions comfortably and flush those pills to help with that anxiety and unbearable sadness. somehow he learns how to breathe again all by himself without someone else coaching him through it all.

EXTRA: 

woojin is gay so romance plots are only applicable to other male muses however in the past before he knew of his sexuality he could’ve had an ex girlfriend or two!

potential romance plot inspiration heavily inspired by the poem yes & no by natalie wee. there’s a lot of flexibility on this one in terms of timeframing so just hit me up to discuss it more after reading the poem if you’re interested !!

the usual plots are of course up for grabs: childhood best friend, current best friend, ex’s, first love, friends he met through therapy, friends he met in the foster system, confidant, coffee fix partner, fake dating, study partner ( he’s studying music ofc and he specializes in production ), someone he writes lyrics for, someone he writes lyrics with or produces with, someone who makes him realize how amazing his lyrics actually are and how much potential lies within that talent as a career goal, his muse, i imagine he works a part time job as a waiter so do with that what u will maybe they can be work buddies?, also does babysitting every now and then for extra cash, etc. 

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two: Candy Apple Red ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura ] [ SasuHina, NaruSaku ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

“How did I let you talk me into this again…?”

Hinata just giggles into a yukata sleeve. “To be fair, you didn’t really put up much of a fight. I just asked! And then you scoffed...and said you guessed you could go with me.” Pale eyes close as she beams up at him. “You know, despite your answer...you really don’t seem t-that unhappy about being here, Sasuke-kun.”

“Tch…” Glancing aside with closed eyes of his own, the younger Uchiha brother manages to quell the urge to smile. “I suppose you make it tolerable.”

Looking both superbly pleased and coyly knowing, Hinata just continues down the aisle of festival stalls. Both hands cling loosely to a small bag she’s keeping her spending money in, looking over the attractions mildly. Sasuke, on the other hand, keeps his hands in his sleeves with crossed arms, his own expression more haughty than curious.

At least they haven’t run into -

“Oi, teme!”

...damn it.

Hinata turns to look first, perking up as she spots the other duo. “Naruto-kun! Sakura-chan!”

The blond and rosette approach with matching smiles. “Konbanwa, Hinata-chan!” Sakura chirps in reply. Jades give Sasuke a teasing glance, daring to poke his arm with a slender finger. “Looks like you got the troll out of his cave, eh?”

He just gives his ex-teammate a halfhearted glare.

“It’s good for you to get out sometimes, teme!” Naruto agrees, hands on his hips.

“I get out plenty. It’s called work.”

“And work isn’t the only thing you should get out of the house for,” Sakura rebukes, her own arms folding with a curt nod. “You need to socialize! Have a little fun!”

“I do plenty of that at home, with my family.”

“I mean besides them!”

Naruto can’t help a chuckle. “That niece’n’nephew a’yours are sure cute! They’re, what...two now? Three?”

“Nearly three.” There’s a slight puff of pride to Sasuke’s chest and his tone of voice. “They’re growing fast.”

An elbow digs lightly into his ribs, Naruto’s blond brows wiggling. “Think they need a couple’a cousins?”

“I’m not even married,” Sasuke deadpans.

“Well, neither was -”

“Those were entirely different circumstances,” is the cut in reply, clearly hackled at the topic. “I’d rather do things a bit more...stably. If I do so at all.”

Pale eyes glance to him from their corners, fingers fidgeting a bit.

“Yeah, yeah...I was just kiddin’, teme! No need to get all defensive!”

“Why don’t you two go try a game? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Heh, I’ll duel ya! Whoever wins our gal a prize first, wins!”

“Tch, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Try me!”

Sakura heaves a heavy sigh. “Does everything have to be a competition with you two…?”

“What else are rivals for?” Naruto crows, tugging Sasuke along despite his clearly-disgruntled expression. “C’mon, we’ll do the dart throwing one!”

“Says the dobe who was always dead last in shuriken practice.”

Watching them go, Hinata smiles warmly, expression not unnoticed by Sakura.

“So,” she muses, giving the Hyūga a look to rival her boyfriend’s to Sasuke. “What is going on with you two, eh?”

Pale cheeks dust pink. “W...what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! How serious are things with him?”

The pink goes darker. “T-that’s -!”

Sakura laughs. “Kidding, kidding! I won’t butt in!” Her wide grin slowly sobers. “...I’m just glad to see him look happy for once. At least,” she laughs, “before we showed up.”

“Oh, he wasn’t -”

A wave of a hand stills her to silence. “It’s no secret things are still a little...touchy between us all,” the medic admits. “And...well, none of us can be blamed. A lot’s changed since we were genin. And though there’s been improvement...it can’t be expected to heal that fast. But at least he’s doing better. A lot of that is thanks to you.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” Hinata replies, looking sheepish. “I just...you know…”

“Don’t sell yourself short! He’s tempered a lot since getting to know you better. You’re good for him.” A pause. “...better than I’d have ever been.”

Feeling a little awkward, Hinata’s head ducks slightly. “I...I guess we were all just...c-chasing after the wrong person, weren’t we?”

Hearing Naruto groan loudly in defeat, Sakura can’t help a snort. “...I guess we were.”

It’s then the boys return, Naruto empty-handed and Sasuke handing Hinata a small plush cat of lilac fabric. “It looked like your color.”

“Thank you! It’s so cute…”

Sakura folds her arms, looking critically to her boyfriend. “So, your loss is mine too, eh?”

“S-sorry, Sakura-chan…”

Jades roll in their sockets, gently punching his shoulder. “You can buy me dinner instead.”

“Speaking of, should we all get s-something to eat?” Hinata suggests, plush hugged to her chest.

“Sure!” Apparently already over his melancholy, Naruto points. “Something smelled really good down that way before we found you guys!”

“We technically already ate,” Sasuke admits.

“Well, we can get some dessert instead!”

Lips purse ever so slightly. “...I don’t like sweets…”

Outvoted, Sasuke follows as the rest make their way toward the food stalls. While Sakura and Naruto peruse more meal-like options, Hinata oggles some sugary confections with starry eyes. Eventually she settles on a candied apple. “At least it has some fruit...right?”

Sasuke just snorts. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

“Hey, I haven’t baked anything all week!” she sniffs in reply. “I deserve it.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

They wander a bit as she nibbles, the other couple ahead and discussing what attraction to try next. Blinking owlishly, Sasuke gives his date a checking glance. Though not yet finished, her lips are dyed a bright red from her treat.

The corner of his own flicker. “...you’ve got a little something there.”

“Eh?”

Ducking around in front of her, Sasuke murmurs, “...here,” before giving her a chaste kiss.

Stiffening with a small sound of surprise, Hinata has no time to react before he pulls away. “W-what -?”

He just smirks at her, tongue roving over his own mouth and clearing up syrup. “You’ve got sugar all over your lips.”

“...b-but you said you don’t like sweets!”

“Some are...tolerable,” he replies evasively. There’s another lean, brushing her brow to his and feeling the heat of her blush. “...I like you, after all. Doesn’t get much sweeter than that.”

Completely at a loss, Hinata flounders like a fish out of water as he straightens, back to looking nonchalant.

It’s then the other pair look back, hesitating at her expression. “...Hinata-chan?” Naruto asks. “You feelin’ okay?”

“F...fine,” is her mumbled reply, head ducking as Sakura just smiles coyly.

“Don’t worry about it, Naruto,” she advises, urging him back around. “Let’s go get ready for the fireworks, okay?”

Still flustered, Hinata looks to her apple before taking another bite.

Maybe she’ll get another kiss...

     Woo, day two! And just before midnight, ahaha! Had a long day afk so no time to write until now, whoops!      This prompt stumped me for a bit before I finally got this lil idea! I thought it was pretty cute~ And a little NaruSaku was thrown in to help balance it out. I always write that ship as a companion to SasuHina. I think they make a better quad that way!      I'm a sucker for writing festival settings - there's a lot of possibilities for little cute moments...like this one! Sasuke claims he isn't a fan, but...he'll indulge Hinata to make her happy. And he can still enjoy himself in other ways, huehue~      Anyway, that's it for today! Hope y'all enjoyed, and I'll see you tomorrow! Thanks, as always, for reading!

[silver-strings-of-fate]

The full line up of class 2-A! Basic stuff below the cut!

1. Akagi Miho / Volcano Girl

Hot-headed and hot-blooded butch. Quirk: Magma

pros: Excretes hot lava at will, skin is igneous rock

cons: Can’t turn her quirk off, needs fire-proof accommodations.

2. Abe Ai / Miracle Medic

A soft and caring girl with a love for kittens. Quirk: Defibrillator

pros: Sends a shock into the body that boosts healing speed, or just shocks someone

cons: Not very useful in offensive situations, still can’t beat a kiss from Recovery Girl

3. Itou Ren / Plague

Mysterious and distant agender who acts cool but is just a nerd. Yes, they always wear the bandages. Quirk: Swarm

pros: Summons various insects from their skin, as long as it’s got 6 legs it’s game

cons: Loses control over the swarms if they get too far away, leaves marks on skin

4. Utsura Kaoru / Paralymist

Easily angered but ultimately a big puppy who just likes to act tough. Got in on recommendation. Quirk: Miasma

pros: Mist exhaled causes paralysis if inhaled, lasts until the air is clear

cons: Only takes effect after a certain amount is inhaled, little control over the mist itself.

5. Okuma Yasuo / Wallflower

A little weird, but a lover of hugs and being hugged. Quirk: Sticky Finger

pros: Can stick to any flat surface, useful for climbing and such.

cons: Needs exposed skin to stick, so no shoes

6. Kamiki Miki / Miss Melting

Sweet and sunny, but a bit naive. Quirk: Melt

pros: Any inorganic material her hand touches melts instantly

cons: Needs to wear special gloves to keep from melting the whole school

7. Kanda Minami / Zantetsuken

A strict, stern girl who rarely smiles. She is Class Rep. Quirk: Air Cutter

pros: Projects a blast of air, slicing from a distance

cons: Quirk must be channeled through a sword or similar weapon, she’s banned from all local kendo clubs

8. Kurosawa Tomie / Batty

Peppy and upbeat. The shortest person in class. Was originally in general studies but was transferred into class near the middle of their first year. Quirk: Echolocation

pros: Uses sound to map out her surroundings, can also create a painfully high-pitched screech

cons: Is almost completely blind, sensitive to certain sounds 

9. Shimizu Yuzuru / Bombing Boy

Loud and wild with a love of rock music and surfing. Loves to use English words he doesn’t understand. Quirk: Bubble Bomb

pros: Generates bubbles that explode when popped, can control those bubbles to an extent

cons: Can’t control when they pop, can literally blow up in his face

10. Takase Ichirou / Gyro-Devil

A smug jerk with a hero complex, loves to be the center of attention. Quirk: Pressure

pros: Pretty much the opposite of Uraraka’s quirk aka, increases gravity on things he touches

cons: Requires lots of concentration, can cause fatigue if overused.

11. Tsukuda Masaru / Blast Racer

Tries to be cool, but gets a bit too emotional too easily. He’s Vice Class Rep. Quirk: Speed Burst

pros: Pushing off from any surface gives him a major boost in speed, capable of breaking the sound-barrier

cons: Has issues stopping, also hard to change directions

12. Hirose Yayoi / Highwire

It’s ya girl! I don’t need to explain her!

13/14. Futagawa Shinji and Reiji / Mix and Match

Twins that have similar personalities, but don’t always get along like you’d expect. Quirk: Twin Fusion

pros: Fuses into a single body with enhanced strength and endurance, about as big as All Might

cons: Both retain full consciousness when fused, unfuse if they can’t get along

15. Funanori Kaede / Merman Man

Is too nice for his own good. His smile is pure sunshine. Quirk: Fish Form

pros: Super fast swimming, can breath underwater easily

cons: Gets dehydrated easily, needs to take a long bath everyday

16. Madaraki Hisako / Stitches

Quite, shy, and a pretty swell guy gal. Quirk: Frankenstein

pros: Can disconnect and control her limbs at will

cons: Limbs will sometimes fall off on their own and get lost

17. Matsuoka Aki / Amaterasu

Pretty aloof and calm and fun to be around. Quirk: Solar Panel

pros: Turns sunlight into physical power, more sun equals more muscle

cons: Lack of sunlight gives her withdrawal symptoms, still gets sunburns

18. Yuuki Shizuko / Lady Blizzard

Bouncy, peppy, and will never, ever stop talking. Quirk: Ice Blaster

pros: Fires either a solid icicle or a freezing spray from her mouth, gives her strong cold resistance

cons: Needs to drink lots of water, sensitive to heat

19. Yutani Naoya / Arrow Hood

Wants to be a cool guy who doesn’t speak, but gets drawn into arguments easily. Quirk: Crossbow Arm

pros: Arm forms a high-powered crossbow that can be folded and concealed in his sleeve easily

cons: Needs to carry arrows, firing too much too quickly hurts

20. Watari Hiroji / Stick-it

Smiley, goofy, and a ball of goodness, but sometimes has trouble being serious. Was also originally in general studies but transferred to the hero course after day one first year. Quirk: Stretch

pros: Can turn his arms into one of those stretchy arm things, good for smacking things

cons: Stuff gets stuck to his arms too easily

[leigh-kelly]

Think What You’ve Got the Whole Day Through

[elaianna]

Anchored

"You're putting off your questions,” Elaianna said, knowing when he was clutching onto a distraction.

Thomas smiled at Dagan, pausing as Elaianna spoke. "Mhh -- yer' annoyingly keen, y'know that? ... Sure, I'm puttin' it off. Yer' livin' now an' thas' tha' greater of ma' worries. But I'm inclined ta' ask what in the fuck gave reason fer' ya' ta' be torn from tha' dead ta' begin with." Tom itched his abdomen, affixing her with a stare.

Elaianna blinked slowly, brows knit together. She looked as if he had slapped her. "You.. you think i should have stayed dead." Her voice, though quiet as it had been, had grown even softer. Try as she may to keep the hurt from showing, the emotion laced her words.

Thomas loosed a short exhale. His shoulders deflated, body losing some of it's rigidity, even in his armor. "Fuck n' damnation -- ya' really imagine thas' what I was thinkin'? 'Course I don't think ya' ought ta ... stay de -- stay -- " Tom shook his head, fussing with his gloves. "'Course that ain't what I meant. I think ya' ought ta' never have been ... gone ... in tha' first place."

Dägän didn't even know how to respond but let the man either dig his own hole to Pandaria or try to clear his name as quickly as he could. She didn't know how or what to think at the moment being.

Elaianna's facial expression softened. "I didn't ask to be... gone.. as you put it."

Thomas huffed, "I'm sure ya' didn' ask. But we both know tha' difference between stayin' out a' trouble an' making tha' decision ta' put yer'self in tha' crosshairs."

She sighed softly, closing her eyes. "You want me to stay at home, have afternoon tea and eat cakes... Pretend there aren't things that need fixing in the world?"

He frowned, jaw clenching, "Y'know that ain't true neither. I want -- " Tom halted, pacing back and forth. He dips his head to Dagan before turning back toward Elaianna, "Fuck's sake Anna, we gotta have this talk now? Y'need ... rest."

Elaianna looked up to Dägän. "...Can we have a few minutes, please?"

Dägän nodded in return. "Sure, i'll be outside if you need anything."

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest.

Elaianna pushed herself to sit up, keeping the blankets tugged snug around her waist. "Calm down and use your words, Thomas. Please."

He looked to the floor, the windows, the ceiling, anywhere but her. His jaw clenches again. The color in his face flushed and the veins in his neck pushed against his skin. Despite this, he didn't speak, just shook his head.

Elaianna spoke weakly, putting inflection upon his name when she spoke it. "Thomas. Please." She tried to motion for him to at least come closer but without him looking at her, it was moot.

Thomas pushed out a long, harsh exhale. His hands came to rest against the table nearby. Words did not come out easily, and he looked strained and uncomfortable. "Please what? Damn't Light alive -- I know ya' gotta do what ya' have to. But piss, ya' got folk what count on you. Folk what ... care about you. An' a daughter who needs a mother. More'n fuckin' anythin' y'know that ta' be true, don't you?" Tom's jaw jutted out and his head tilted, looking at the ceiling. There is a bubbling of emotion in his voice, "Fuck."

She canted her head, looking at him with sad eyes. "Please -that-. Say what's on the tip of your tongue, what you're holding back." She twisted a bit, trying not to wince at the phantom pain in her stomach where the second wound had been. It was healed by Cayce as well, but Light only went so far. "..Aye. I know that to be true." Her voice was low, shame tainting her words.

He gritted his teeth hard in his maw. There was a creaking of wood as his hands grip the table. After a moment, he took two hard steps toward her, leaning forward until his face was only a few inches from hers. The blood is still thick in his face, and the vein his forehead is swollen. "Light damn't woman -- I care about you. I need you in a way I ain't felt need in a long time. I can't have you goin' an' dyin'. Nerina can't have that. There're plenty a' bags a' meat that can die in your stead, folk like me that don't swell with such purpose that you do. Y'understand?" Tom moved to speak again, but stopped. The rush of his blood slowing and leaving him standing there, looking pained.

Elaianna set her jaw as he came to her with hard steps. As she listened, her jaw slackened. She reached up with a clammy hand, giving his cheek a gentle pat as if that could wipe away the pained look on his face. "I have a hard time sending folk like you to do things that I wouldn't do," she said slowly. She measured and weighed her words, but even the careful nature she chose them with didn't keep the emotion from oozing from them. "I couldn't have people like you... especially you... die in my stead, because I need you. I can't lose you too... I've told you that, haven't I?”

Thomas softened at her touch. The swelling blood and hard line of his jaw relaxed with the simple pat of his stubbled cheek. Words came slowly, his voice much smaller than it was before. Pin pricks of water ate at the sides of his eyes for a moment, until he blinked. "I'm buil't for it, gal. I'm ... " A shaky exhale escapes him, "I feel like ... I know ya'. Perhaps better'n ... some. I know yer' ache, I feel it too. It doesn' get any less in time. Loss is tha' surest demon ta' pain yer' heart. But ... " Tom inhaled, then exhaled, repeating this a few times. He shook his head. "But tha' don't meant you can throw yer'self into tha' fray so mean an' willingly. Despite tha' fact ya' can handle a horde a' demons or void touched beasts or a plain sailor with a rifle better'n even I can -- y'just ... can't." 

The warpstalker in the corner of the room, Warpson, let out a sharp snore as he slumbers in the corner as the two were busy pouring their hearts out in strained words. The snore behind him caused Tom to pause. One gloved hand scrubbed over his face before he looked at Elaianna from beneath his hood, eyes stained red at the edges.

The lady's dove grey eyes searched the red-stained eyes, only tearing away to look at Warpson when she heard the snore, before looking back. "Built for it or not... I'm not built for losing you." Her lips, twitched, as if she were to say more but hesitated. There was a pause as she chose to swallow those words. Instead, when she spoke again, her voice was defeated. "You do know me.. You know me better than most... Least, what goes on up here." She pressed a fingertip to her temple briefly. "...Which surely to goodness means.. you know I'm not -looking- for death. Contrary to tonight's evidence."

Thomas had difficulty holding gaze with her as she looked at him. His jaw came tight, and he swallowed. There is glimmer in the back of his eyes, something far away but clearly paining him. "I know ... I know y'aint lookin'. Yer' stalwart, n' strong, n' damn't smart. I know it ain' right ta' hound you this way I jus' ..." Tom halted, choking on his words. His throat swelled and he swallowed, shaking his head. "Don' fuckin' go anywhere, alrigh'?"

She reached up with her left arm, snaking it around the back of Tom's shoulder and neck to pull him down over the back of the second bench Korduun had pulled up to make a place for Anna to rest. It was just enough so that her other arm could reach and she could give him a hug. "I'm too stubborn for that. I'm not going anywhere. I'm anchored," she promised.

The Captain seemed startled at her touch, at first. The motion left him slack at the jaw, lips coming together and apart to try to find words. In their absence, he simply leaned forward into her embrace. His arms, rustling as his armor moves, came around her frame. He was gentle, not wanting to harm her in such an infirm state but -- there was an edge of desperation in his clutching at her. A low exhale escaped him, dusting over her shoulder. "... Anchored." His voice came at a whisper.

Elaianna gave his back a gentle pat. "That's right," she murmured.

[ There was SO much that happened in RP, and I plan on doing more posts about it, but while I still had the logs up on WoW, I wanted to get this down/edit some of the pretenses. Thank you to everyone for an amazing guild event. I’d love to tell more but not all the stories that happened last night were Anna’s to share.]

@thomasstalsworth @kharne (mention)

[rogue-barnes-16]

HEAL ME (part X/X)

Summary: She was a nurse. He was a soldier. They fell in love at first sight. It was beautiful, true love. But something isn’t beautiful because it lasts.

Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x nurse!Reader

Title: I'll be seeing you

Genre: hypocritical fluff

Tags:

Heal me:

@just-add-butter @mannls @bethanyzed @fandom-addict-aesthetics @kitttysblog @roxytheimmortal @futuremrspeterparkerholland @i-am-a-fandom-slut @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @chook007 @avengersassemblee @littlephoenix-fire @androgynouswolfcookiemug @babyplutoszx2 @calspalkira @unnecessarydelivery @-lilacnialler- @silver-winter-wolf

Permanent taglist:

@notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @almostmellowsalad @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, feels, angst shit

A/N: final chapter, but there's a EPILOGUE left, welcome to the peak of angst of these series. Also, I use Roman numbers for my chapters, but my bestfriend commented the other day that most people don't find it easy to understand??? Let me know if you can understand them easily plz <3.

Heal me masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

Soon I was in an American bus, making my way to Brooklyn, more specifically to the Barnes' house.

All I remembered from the previous days was crying for Bucky, because he was not supposed to die, because I loved him and because he loved me.

I should have gone to the mission with them, I should have argued more, he would eventually have given in ;I should have tell him I loved him, even if I had told him already, even if he knew it; I shouldn't have gotten mad at him for protecting me, at least not in that moment.

It wasn't fair, because now I had to live with the guilt, and not just the one that came with Bucky’s death, but also the one that hit me after Steve's.

I never would get to apologize with any of them, I would never be able to make amends with those two Brooklyn boys.

I pushed back all those thoughts for a moment, and after taking a deep breath, I knocked the Barnes' door and waited for them to open it.

"Y/n? Darlin' so good to see you again!" Mrs. Barnes greeted, slowly opening the door. "what're ya doin' here, hun?" I didn't open my mouth, I couldn't part my lips. "you came to visit ya ma?" her voice had dropped subtly, almost as if she knew.

She knew, but was waiting for me to deny it.

I didn't shake my head no, I didn't speak the dreadful news, I only took one of my hands to my bag and grabbed Bucky’s military hat.

As I handed it to Mrs. Barnes, I saw the color leaving her face, but she didn't cry. "Where's Steve? Why isn't he with ya, hun?" her trembling voice asked in a puddle of nerves.

This time I did shake my head no, and tears were spilled. I didn't notice Rebecca coming to us until she was sobbing too.

"I'm sorry..." I apologized in a broken whisper. "It's my fault" I didn't even realize what I was saying, not even when they turned to look at me. "It's my fault he's dead... I'm- I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It's my fault" confusion showed up on their faces while they looked at me. I finally broke down to tears, covering my mouth with one hand, trying desperately to hold back the sobs because I didn't deserve to cry with them. "I'm sorry" I repeated, but this time came out too broken to be understood, too muffled to be heard. I shut my eyes, not wanting to see the two women. "I'm so sorry- it's my f-fault I-" the sobs turned worse and my head started to spin. I had to hold onto the door frame because now with my eyes closed, the only thing I could see was Bucky's face. "I should've been there... Oh God I should have been there I'm sorry... I'm so sorry- Oh my God-"

I felt someone's trembling arms hugging me. "it ain't your fault, Y/n." it was Rebecca's voice. "it ain't on you."

A Month Later

"Y/n, love!" Mary, my bestfriend, called my name from the entrance of our house. "There's a man here who wanna see ya!"

After what happened to Bucky and Steve, after all the guilt and the sorrow, I didn't think twice before leaving the Howling Commandos. Some of the boys had tried to talk me out of it, but they couldn't have changed my mind about a decision I had made more than two years ago.

To my surprise, the boy standing in front of Mary, was non other than the one who supported my decision. "Gabe?"

"Hey" he gave me a small smile while I requested Mary to leave us. "How ya doin'?"

"I'm just trynna live" I quietly replied, stepping aside and motioning him to get in. "How come you're here?"

He hesitantly stepped in the living room, looking around. "I... We've been cleaning up" I nodded, closing the door before sitting in the sofa. "and Uh..."

"I took my things when I left." I informed him, figuring he might have mistaken and item in Bucky’s things for something mine.

"yeah, no, but-" he cleared his throat and, after taking his hand to his bag, he handed me an envelope. "this got ya name."

I stared at the envelope for a while. It had my name written over it, not just once, but four times. Three of them were crossed out, like he had been going to give it to me, and then he had regretted it.

"Morita had it between his things... Apparently Bucky gave it to him the day-"

"I don't want it" I muttered, unaware of the tears streaming down my cheeks until one fell over the same envelope.

"I'll leave it here, though." Gabe stated, getting up "in case you change your mind."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't read the letter.

But it sat there, in my tiny wooden nightstand, and I was greeted with that view every morning, when I woke up to go to work in Kew Gardens General Hospital; every evening, when I came back and went to sleep; every singled time I entered.

And it wasn't like I couldn't remove it from the nightstand and put it inside that brass box of photographs an small things I had from War.

I could grab the damn letter and put it in that box that I knew I wouldn't open in several years, but I wasn't able to.

Because it was Bucky’s letter. It was what he had written me God knows when, it was a letter he had planned to give me several times, but something made him change his mind.

It wasn't just a letter.

It was something else, something I was completely sure that if I opened, I would throw away any opportunity of moving on.

But did l want to move on from that witty, kind-hearted brunette that I had fallen for in a crowded Brooklyn bar?

Days passed by, and in a sunny morning, after driving my bestfriend child to school, I decided I didn't want to move on just yet.

I waited until the kid had jumped out the car to open the envelope.

My shaky hands tore it, and something fell to the car's floor.

A ring. A beautiful wedding ring that made me let out the first sob.

Y/n,

If you receive this letter is because something bad happened to me.

I'm sorry doll, I really wanted to tell you how I feel about you, but I chickened out every time you talked to me.

I'm sure it wouldn't have happened if we'd come this close before I was captured.

I want you to know I fell for those fiery eyes and that damn smile the first time you asked me to dance that night back in Brooklyn, and I hope you know how thankful I am to have been able to meet that gal in the blue dress again, to get to know her.

I'm so mad at myself because I lost the opportunity to tell you.

Bucky

I didn't understand the point of this letter, since he had already told me most of the things written down. Then I realized he had written and crossed my name a few times.

This was the first version.

I'm glad I kissed you again, it felt really nice and gave me hope, but again but I know how is war, and I know you'll end up receiving this letter.

I love you, doll, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you.

I turned the page, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Don't read anything of the other side of the letter, I wrote it before this mission. I wrote it every time I thought I could die, for you to have something mine.

God I'm sorry, I know it sounded stupid, but I want you to remember me. Please, don't forget me.

A couple of nights ago you asked me what would happen if you died. Doll, you're not gonna die while I'm alive, and that's why I know you'll end up receiving this.

I love you Y/n

I knew I was gonna start to read the last version of the letter, and I was not ready. But I couldn't leave it now.

Y/n,

I hope you don't receive this, I wanna come back, I have something really important to do.

I'm 100% 90% sure that I'll get to cross out your name again, and the moment I do, I'm gonna trash this stupid letter and we'll go to Brooklyn.

But in case I'm wrong, in case you receive this, I want you to know that this ring was for you. It still is, it always will, because I'm in love with you and not even death can change that.

I'll be seeing you.

Yours, Bucky.

I couldn't physically move, I was catatonic.

This couldn't be happening to me, I refused to accept his intention was to propose the moment Stark landed in England with Zola, I refused to believe his things were packed because he meant it when he told me we were coming back to Brooklyn.

I convinced myself that it wasn't true for years

6 Years Later

I was picking up the mail when I noticed a particularly odd envelope with my name.

LIEUTENANT Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N:

We are recruiting former soldiers and agents for a new unit, born from the ashes of the Strategic Scientific Reserve, and founded by Agent Margaret Elizabeth Carter.

We are in need of an expert in the medical field, and miss Carter assured us there was no better nurse than you.

In case you need more information, come to visit us to the address written in the back of the envelope.

Edwin Jarvis

One single envelope that was about to change my life.

[captainsbabysitter-blog]

Uncertainty Blooms Ch1

So I’m going to be working on a multi-chapter fic series for my gal Jaylah and I just finished the first installment.

So, uh... This is going to get angsty pretty quick, but I wanted to set it up a bit first. This first chapter is just a bit of what goes on between Jaylah and the crew hanging around on Yorktown and them parting ways when she leaves for the academy and they go back to the black.

I absolutely have no even done a cursory read-through for errors and I regret nothing.

Tag list: @thevalesofanduin @mccoymostly @emmkolenn (feel free to let me know if you want to be added in future stuff)

Repair the ship, protect her home from outsiders, hide, run, hunt, sleep, and when it was all done repeat. Survive. That was Jaylah’s entire life beginning the day her father helped her escaped Manas and his attempts to aid Krall. And then Montgomery Scott stumbled into her little world of solitude and flipped it all upside down in an instant.

Everything flew by in a whirlwind from the second Jaylah met the Enterprise crew. Her whole world went from isolated survival to watching, consumed in anxiety, as Jim risked his life to save the lives of everyone on Yorktown. In that moment, she had pushed away the thought that she might lose someone else she cared for because if he failed? They were all dead. Nothing would matter if they were all too dead to know the difference.

She’d never admit it, but there was still a piece of her that wanted him to make it.

When all was said and done, she still didn’t have time to do anything other than eat, sleep, and attend meetings; Starfleet had so many questions. When Starfleet didn’t have questions, she was being dragged around by the crew.

According to them, she was part of the family now. That knowledge struck a chord somewhere inside her that she chose to ignore in favor of trying to think her way through her next steps. Jim’s party came and with it her decision was made for her. The opportunity to rejoin her newfound friends in a few years is more than enough to make up for the fact that she’ll need to wear one of those uniforms; at least she would be able to wear the pants and not be forced into the dress.

Questions, questions, questions, and even more questions followed that day. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why had Starfleet never heard of her planet? Who, where, why, how?

It frustrated her that the only answers she could give them were what she remembered from her days as a child. She was so young when they took to space, and she suspected that her parents hadn’t told her everything about why they even left.

With each new day of questions, Jaylah found herself increasingly jealous of her friends who seemed able to ‘take the edge off’ with the alcohol they were all fond of. She was looking forward to the day she could leave for San Francisco and get to studying, but that wasn’t for another month.

“Ah, lassie… Y’might wannae just find somethin’ else t’distract you,” Scotty suggested one night a few weeks into their stay. He motioned for her to follow him and brought her to the workshop he was given to work in while the new ship was built. “I can teach ya some things. Makin’ distracts me when I’m bothered.”

That was how she decided to take on the engineering track. The equations she learned were easy enough to learn, and it meant that if she ever found herself stuck on a planet she should be able to fix it herself and go back home. The way the bits and bobs pieced together to make functioning equipment had always fascinated her. Scotty watched on with extreme pride as she picked everything up so quickly he had flashbacks to his first days discovering a love of machines and what makes them go.

This new distraction was a blessing. Jaylah no longer noticed that tug at the edge of her mind that tried to steer her toward thoughts of the past. She didn’t want to think about the past. All she wanted was to focus on her future on the Enterprise (because no one, not one single person, could convince her that she was going anywhere else after graduation).

It worked for quite a while. She spent as much time as possible learning everything Scotty would teach her. When she wasn’t doing that, she was spending time with the rest of the crew; drinking with Sulu and Chekov, shopping with Nyota (she now had more clothing than she really knew what do with, but she learned that purple apparently suits her- whatever that means), quizzing Spock about the workings of his experiments in the labs, practicing her combat maneuvers with Jim and Leonard, or even just going out with the group as a whole.

Then the new Enterprise was finished. Everyone except Bones seemed eager to be back among the stars, but Jaylah found herself longing to follow them instead of stepping onto the shuttle set to bring her to Earth.

“We’ll check in whenever we can,” Jim assured her with a smile.

“Aye,” Scotty agreed. “I’ve got plans te com ye weekly when I can.”

Uhura stepped in to give her a tight hug that she reluctantly returned. “And we’ll see you whenever we visit Earth. Promise.”

“How often are you visiting Earth?” She hated the uncertainty in her voice, but after spending so much time alone she wasn’t looking forward to diving back into an unknown place with unknown people.

Jim sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck a bit. She noticed immediately that he was avoiding eye contact as he spoke, “Not a lot, honestly… But we’ll try to stop in when we can okay?”

She knew that would be the case, but it still sent strange and unfamiliar feelings out to every corner of her being. Instead of acknowledging them, she just nodded and accepted hugs from everyone.

Before she stepped onto the shuttle, Scotty snagged her by the forearm and handed her a smallish box. “Jus’ a gift from th’ lot’ve us for your room.”

The bright paper tempted her to tear into it immediately, and she obliged that desire. The bridge crew, McCoy, and Scotty watched on with varying shades of amusement as she pulled out a framed photo of the group from Jim’s birthday. Everyone had crowded together with Jim at the center; each had a smile on their face ranging from Spock’s subtle upturn curve of the lips to Jim’s full-blown, brighter than a sun smile.

Jaylah easily recalled that moment. They were all battered, bruised, and still reeling from the events on Altamid, but they were glad to be alive. She remembered the deep bruises on her arms, legs, and torso aching until McCoy had time to heal them for her; she hadn’t been able to trust anyone else to do it.

Her fingers traced across the frame and she couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, she felt with a keen clarity that this group of people really had become more than just friends of necessity.

[lesbrarians]

Junkrat/Roadhog:: Voyages Ch 1

Buckle up, guys and gals and nonbinary pals, because I’m finally following up Origins with a sequel. If you haven’t read Origins, I really really recommend that you do -- this first chapter is kind of a prologue with some refresher details, setting us up for the bulk of this story, but there is defs the occasional reference that kind of requires an understanding of the first fic to fully get it. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I hope you’ll stick with it, and thank you so much for reading! (This can also be read on AO3 but I guess Tumblr hides posts if you put links in them so??)

Title: Voyages

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary:  After a rocky start and some ups and downs, Junkrat and Roadhog are officially partners, even if things haven’t progressed quite as far as Junkrat would like. With his treasure at the heart of their grandiose plans, they take their adventures overseas and leave their mark on the world, for better or worse. (Mostly for worse. They’re criminals.) Sequel to “Origins.”

---

Junkrat had been the one to suggest that they go international. After the Hyde Global incident, he was more than happy to bid Australia adieu and travel overseas. His flitting notion of going legit had evaporated entirely at the suit’s betrayal, and he wanted to go back to what he did best: good, honest, straightforward crime.

“Gotta say, I’m a bit disappointed that we didn’t end up scrapping any bots after all,” Junkrat said that night, once they’d fled the city and set up camp in an abandoned warehouse further down the coast. “Drones ain’t the same.” He toyed with his RIP-tire, running his finger around its rim. After learning of Junkrat’s treasure, Roadhog had done his best to dissuade him from storing it inside his tire once more, but he had been unable to provide him with a more secure storage space that Junkrat approved of. Back in the tire it went. “Listen, ‘Hog, I’ve been thinkin’...” He dropped his hand and shifted to sit on the tire instead.

Roadhog snorted and put the cap back on his canteen. “There’s a surprise.”

Junkrat kicked at him, his boot striking empty air. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he repeated, raising his voice in exaggeration, “that maybe it’s time to test out my little treasure I got here.” He patted the tire and raised his brows at Roadhog, as if to say how ‘bout it?

“To unleash the god program,” Roadhog clarified.

“That’s the ticket!” Junkrat grinned at him. “Imagine...” He gazed dreamily up at the ceiling of the warehouse. “Takin’ over the omnics. I could make them walk right into my traps, blow themselves up! How lovely.” He sighed, a noise of utter contentment.

Roadhog chuckled. “I’m in. Where?”

Junkrat craned his neck to look at him. “Where what?”

“Anubis took over Cairo. Probably would have spread through all of Egypt if it weren't for Helix.”

“So, where do I want to be god?” He considered it. “Somewhere with lots of bots, yeah? Maybe not here, you and yer mates thinned us out with the whole omnium explosion thing. 'Course, still too many of the bastards for my liking, but at least it's not like Numbani. Place’s crawlin’ with the tinheads.” He paused. “Say, that wouldn't be a bad spot! Sure, it'd be ambitious, but y’know me, I like to dream big.”

“No job too big…”

“...No score too small!” It had become their mantra as of late, and Junkrat jumped at the opportunity to finish Roadhog's sentence every time. He relished the verbal affirmation of their partnership. “But hey, why stop there? We could hit up Tokyo, London--” He interrupted his current train of thought with a gasp. “Korea! Can you imagine takin’ down that huge fucker in their ocean?”

“We'd be heroes.”

They both burst into raucous laughter at the thought of anyone considering them heroes. Junkrat wiped a tear from his eye. “But seriously, mate. We oughta go international. I'm sick of this place. I wanna travel!”

So they traveled. Matters were complicated by the fact that they couldn't go on holiday like normal people. It wasn't like two highly notorious criminals could just saunter onto a plane, particularly two who looked as distinctive as they did.

They resorted to convoluted schemes in an attempt to evade the law, aided and abetted by their ethically dubious associates. With a raid of a scuba diving facility near Sydney and Rosa’s assistance, they were able to engineer a rebreather for Junkrat and an apparatus for Roadhog’s gas mask that served as a carbon dioxide scrubber. Having a computer scientist on their side proved invaluable, as she helped with the electronic bits of the rebreather.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Ava asked, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“You’ve done crazier things,” Junkrat pointed out. He climbed into the motorcycle’s sidecar, feet propped up and head lolling back. “Sliced open me head in yer kitchen--”

“--blew up the omnium--” Roadhog added.

“--busted us outta prison. What’re ya worried for?”

Ava dropped her hand and laughed. “Got me there! Yeah, you’ll be fine.” She pulled Junkrat out of the sidecar so she could slap the two of them on the back good-naturedly.

Rosa kissed them both on the cheek. “Be safe, all right?”

Junkrat grinned. “Can’t promise nothin’!”

“We’ll try,” Roadhog assured her. Junkrat snorted. Empty words. Roadhog might have been more sensible than he was (not that it took much), but they were both reckless by nature, and it was rare for Roadhog to object to any of their wilder ventures.

“I suppose that’s as good as I’m going to get,” Rosa said with a laugh.

There was a momentary lull as everyone absorbed the fact that they didn’t know when they would next see each other, or if they ever would again. Although it was empty except for the massive crate containing their motorcycle, the cargo container they were all standing in felt claustrophobic under the weight of saying goodbye.

Rosa broke the silence. “Oh, but before you go, I have a little going away present for you both...”

Junkrat’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” he said, unable to hide the incredulity in his voice. People never gave him presents. Junkers weren’t keen on handouts, and he had never had someone in his life who liked him enough to give him a gift without expecting something in return.

Rosa handed each of them two soft, knitted bundles. “What’s this?” Junkrat asked, confused. He unfolded it and shook it out to find that it was a jumper made out of thick, black wool, with his trademark bright yellow, x’d out smiley face stitched on the front. A giggle bubbled out of him, and he bounced as he hugged it to his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore a shirt, a proper shirt -- there was an army green vest that he had worn over his bare chest as a kid, but he didn’t know if that counted.

“I figured you both might need something warm on your travels -- I hear other countries get a lot colder than Oz in November.” Rosa’s eyes twinkled. “And I knew you would probably have a hard time finding ones that fit.”

Junkrat laughed, elbowing Roadhog. “Yeah, can’t be too easy finding duds in yer size, eh, big guy?” He remembered the way Roadhog’s prison undershirt had constantly ridden up his belly, exposing a slice of his tattoo. There was something to be said for this whole “clothes” thing. Somehow, seeing the way the fabric clung to Roadhog, muscles straining against the too-tight sleeves, felt way more indecent than when he was shirtless.

Roadhog ignored his comment; there was no point in saying anything to the contrary. “Thanks, Rosa,” he said, turning the jumper around so that Junkrat could see it. It was the polar opposite of his, light cream instead of pitch black, a giant pink pig’s head instead of a demented smiley face. It should have been all wrong, given that Roadhog was without a doubt an aggressive, spiked up killer -- or, at the very least, ironic in nature. But it wasn’t. The tooth-rottingly sweet jumper just suited him.

“Yeah!” Junkrat enthused. “Thanks, mate.” He spread out the jumper on a nearby package so that he could admire it. He was itching to pull it on right now, just for the novelty of it, but the humid heat of the cargo container made him reconsider.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Junkrat wasn’t used to people being affectionate with him, asides from Roadhog, and even that was still a relatively recent turn of events. It wasn’t for lack of trying -- he’d certainly tried to be chummy with the other Junkers before he’d been forced to go on the lam, but there was something about him that others tended to find off-putting.

So it was nice to have someone else instigate a friendly hug: Rosa’s soft and warm, just like her, Ava’s a tight, one-armed squeeze.

“Thanks heaps for all the help, mate,” he said gratefully as Ava pulled away.

“No worries, you'll just owe me one.” Ava winked at him. “Take it easy, alright? Don't forget about the rest of us down under! And be safe. You lose another limb or get shot, and Dr. Bones ain't around to patch ya up. And I don't really think Dr. Boom is up to the task.”

Junkrat snickered. “Ahh, probably not,” he admitted. He was good at a lot of things, most of which had to do with destroying property or hurting people: healing was not one of these things.

He let Roadhog say his goodbyes in private -- Ava and Rosa were his friends first and foremost, after all -- and crawled back into the sidecar, sloppily folding the jumper and using it as a pillow. If he peeked over the top of the crate, he could see Roadhog’s forehead pressed against Ava’s. Sexual incompatibility aside, there was a certain kind of bond formed between two people who had committed an act of terrorism together. Junkrat had gotten into some serious trouble with Roadhog before, but they had yet to do anything that quite matched the scale of blowing up an omnium.

He hoped to change that. He reached over his shoulder and fondly patted his tire.

There was just enough room for Roadhog to squeeze into the crate before it was sealed.

“Good thing yer not claustrophobic, eh?”

“Speak for yourself,” Roadhog grunted. He handed Junkrat his rebreather.

Outside the crate, they could hear the sounds of Ava and Rosa filling the rest of the cargo container with junk to be mailed. The more large packages to cover up the motorcycle crate, the lower the chances of anyone bothering to pop theirs open for a visual inspection.

The general gist of their plan amounted to the two of them crossing the ocean as stowaways on a cargo ship. Ava and Rosa were their enablers, posing as women ostensibly shipping their belongings overseas for a fresh start. Between bribes, the cost of engineering the rebreathers, and shipping and handling fees, it was turning out to be their most expensive heist yet. Neither of them particularly cared; they needed to burn through their considerable earnings regardless. Australian dollars would be virtually useless to them the minute they set foot in Japan, given that they had no intention of waltzing into a bank -- at least, not with the express purpose of civilly exchanging currency.

The most challenging hurdle would be overcoming the carbon dioxide detectors used to expose stowaways. With any luck, the rebreathers would take care of that, absorbing and recycling the carbon dioxide in every exhale.

It was a long, tense stretch of time as they waited for some signal that they’d escaped undetected. It was only made worse by the fact that they couldn’t speak.

Junkrat wasn’t claustrophobic so much as he was restless. The crate they were in was huge, large enough to accommodate both their bike and sidecar, but with two overgrown men in it, it got cramped very quickly. He could only sit still for so long before he got fidgety.

He didn’t realise he was acting twitchy until Roadhog pinned his hands to his lap. He startled, head jerking up to look at Roadhog. It didn't do him much good, though -- he couldn't read whatever expression Roadhog was giving him beneath his gas mask, and they were currently incapable of using words to communicate.

He sat there, silently staring down at his lap and Roadhog's hand covering the both of his. He had nice hands, Junkrat decided. Strong and sturdy like the rest of him. Nail polish needed a touch-up, though. Still, not as bad as Junkrat's. He had an unfortunate habit of picking at his nails when there was nothing else to keep his hands busy. It was a reflex from back before he'd lost his arm. He might not have had nails on his mechanical hand to properly chip away at the polish, but he could still cause it to flake off with enough persistence.

Maybe it was a good thing Roadhog was restraining his hands, then. A sudden, unbidden image popped in his head of Roadhog’s hands restraining him in other ways. He quickly shook off the thought, as pleasant a vision as it was, by flexing his fingers.

Roadhog squeezed warningly, a silent reprimand to stop moving, there's already not enough space in here. A burst of laughter bubbled up in Junkrat's chest. Holding it in was quite possibly the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life, with the possible exception of learning how to build a peg leg that supported his body and retraining himself to walk.

He really needed to get out of this box.

They both lurched on the spot as the crate pitched forward. Junkrat didn't know what was happening: if they were just being processed, if they were being loaded onto the ship, if someone had found them out and they were being forcibly ejected from the premises. He wormed his hand out from underneath Roadhog's so that he could lace their fingers together. He just hoped that the bribe would be enough to get them through the initial inspection process, and that the rebreather would carry them home.

They'd found the most vulnerable worker to exploit, with Ava as their proxy, and he seemed grateful enough to hold up his end of the bargain. Ten years from now, some child would be going to university courtesy of the country's biggest criminals. It was kind of touching to think about, Junkrat later said, the two of them acting as sponsors to the unwitting less fortunate, even if it was done solely to further their nefarious plans.

After what felt like an eternity, they heard the unmistakable sounds of the ship's engines roaring to life, followed by the gentle rocking of the waves as they pulled away from the port. Junkrat let go of Roadhog's hand and sat up so quickly that he banged his head on the lid of the crate.

Roadhog detached his rebreathing apparatus for the express purpose of laughing at him, or so Junkrat was convinced. He rubbed his head ruefully and struggled to remove his own rebreather while Roadhog shouldered open the lid of the crate.

Junkrat unfolded his body and climbed out of their hiding space onto the metal shipping container that was wedged behind their box. “Next time, I say we just steal the fuckin' boat,” was the first thing Junkrat said after emerging. He cracked every joint in his neck with a satisfying series of pops and stretched out his back. His head was sore -- that was going to leave a bump -- but the relief he felt at pulling off the first leg of their venture surpassed any physical discomfort.  

“Good a plan as any.”

“This whole ‘bein’ careful’ thing is a roight pain in the arse, I tell ya,” Junkrat continued. They were no strangers to convoluted plans, but they weren't used to being cautious. It just wasn't their style. They were loud and obnoxious and stuck out like a sore thumb, and if Junkrat was going for an elaborate scheme, it was going to be a bold one. After spending more time in the slammer than either of them would have liked, however, they decided it was time for a change of tack. Actively attempting to evade capture, as opposed to doing whatever they wanted and running when they were inevitably caught in the act, couldn’t hurt. “Tokyo better be worth all this bullshit.”

He glanced around the cargo hold. They were on the far end of the ship, near the loading ramp, surrounded by packages that ranged the gamut of sizes. There was hardly any floor space to navigate. He envisioned crawling around on top of boxes to get from one side of the hold to another.

Entirely out of nowhere, his thoughts from inside the crate popped into his mind. “Yer nails are chipped!” he blurted out and pointed at Roadhog triumphantly, thoroughly pleased that his memory hadn’t failed him for once.

To his credit, Roadhog took the abrupt change of subject in stride. He looked down at his hands and grunted in agreement. “Yeah. So are yours.” He pulled their dwindling supply of nail polish out of his pocket and sat down, Junkrat scrambling to sit next to him.

Junkrat held out his hand expectantly. He hadn't been very good at applying nail polish when he had two arms made out of flesh and bone. Now that one of them was mechanical, he was even worse, thanks to the fact that it was nigh impossible for him to hold the small brush in his right hand. Built out of scrap metal and a prayer, his prosthetic naturally lacked the epidermal ridges that would help secure his grip, so the brush just rolled out from between his metal fingers.

Thankfully, he had Roadhog. Roadhog, who always painted Junkrat’s nails first before painting his own. “A proper gentleman,” Junkrat had once called him before bursting into a fit of giggles, although Roadhog had maintained that it was because he couldn’t paint someone else’s nails while his own were still wet.

It was one of the few times when he was capable of sitting perfectly still, his fingertips poised on Roadhog’s palm. The spell was broken as soon as Roadhog declared the touchup complete, and it was back to fidgeting as he waited for his nails to dry. He’d gotten impatient in the past and started touching things before they had set, and it always led to smudged nails, so he had quickly learned his lesson.

It didn’t mean he had to be happy about it, though. He groaned dramatically, waving his hand in the air, while Roadhog studiously ignored him and concentrated on applying polish to his own nails. The wait was made worse by the fact that he was intensely curious about his surroundings and wanted nothing more than to poke around and see what other people were shipping overseas.

The moment his nails were dry enough for him to handle objects, he bounded to his feet and set off to explore. The cargo hold was filled with countless packages, and it was sensory overload as his eyes darted here and there, trying to figure out what he wanted to pry open first. He climbed over boxes, peeking at shipping labels and attempting guess which of them contained interesting loot.

He drew up short when he saw a large parcel with a logo on the side that identified it as a gourmet gift basket company. It took him a solid five minutes to figure out how to break into the crate, until he found a piece of metal that served as a crowbar. He wrenched it open to discover an enormous, cellophane-wrapped basket stuffed with fancy Australian cheeses, biscuits, macadamia nuts, and--

Junkrat threw his hands up in the air. “Jackpot!” he crowed.

“What did you find?” Roadhog called out.

Junkrat brandished two bottles. “We got wine, mate! And food too,” he added as an afterthought. “But the grog’s the important bit.”

He snatched up a lump of gouda to bring back with the bottles of wine, so that they could pretend to be the snobby fine dining assholes that they so often mocked. Junkrat put on his poshest accent.

“Wine and cheese for the good sir!” He bit into the hunk of cheese and passed it to Roadhog along with one of the bottles of wine. He plopped down beside him, the second bottle in his lap, and unscrewed his index finger to expose one of the screwdrivers that were part of his mechanical arm’s infrastructure.

Junkrat took care of the cork by stabbing it with the small screwdriver. He raised his bottle in Roadhog’s direction. “I propose a toast!” he declared. “To new adventures!”

“To new adventures,” Roadhog echoed. “And old friends.”

Junkrat was touched, but he tried not to let on just how much the sentiment affected him. Still, he couldn’t hold back the smile that stretched across his face. “Cheers, mate!” he said, clinking bottles with Roadhog and taking a hearty swig. He was fairly certain wine wasn’t meant to be chugged, but he’d be damned if he let that stop him.

Unlike hard liquor, which made him rowdier than ever, wine turned Junkrat into a sleepy drunk. A bottle or so later, he yawned and inched closer to Roadhog, seeking out creature comforts.

“S’good shit,” he mumbled. “Only ever got pissed off plonk before, y’know, whenever one of the Junkers got their hands on a wine cask or two.” He didn’t know that the good stuff tasted so much better. Wine would likely never be his drink of choice, but it wasn’t all that bad.

“Good old chateau cardboard,” Roadhog rumbled.

Even in his groggy state, Junkrat found the term inexplicably hilarious. He laughed uproariously and pressed an affectionate kiss to Roadhog’s arm.

For once, he didn’t have much to say; he just wanted to be close to his partner and enjoy a moment of silent, drunken bliss. They didn’t get quiet moments together very often. Roadhog was absorbed in sewing a new patch onto his harness, and Junkrat pulled out his detonator to give his own hands something to do. He rested against Roadhog’s leg, his entire body heavy and lethargic and warm as the waves of drowsiness washed over him.

Roadhog placed a hand on his head and ruffled his hair, and Junkrat barely suppressed a purr of contentment. It was a small gesture, but one that he loved. It was affectionate in a way that he had never experienced before Roadhog came into his life. It spoke of familiarity. It made him feel like he was home. He leaned into Roadhog’s touch and fiddled with his detonator, wrapping tape around it. It was cozy in the cargo hold like this, tucked up against Roadhog’s side, and he gradually drifted off to sleep, detonator falling to the wayside.

[punkrockgenasiashton]

random, contradicting, but my opinions about last night’s Critical Role: 

- I still am totally of the mind that Vax made the right decision to try to halt Raishan’s ritual with Thordak’s body in Ep 79. We all saw how strong yet weak she was in her diseased form. Diseased or not she’s still a ridiculously strong spell caster, but the soul curse seems to have an impact on her strength and HP, which is why even injured and sorta spell depleted VM was able to push her to the brink in Thordak’s lair. Even if she was just trying to get the cure for her Soul Curse,(which I still think is total bullshit, she definitely wants something else) preventing that was worth the risk, especially with (in Vax’s mind) his allies “10 seconds behind.”

- That said, Scanlan was totally right to call him out for his rash actions. Vax and Vex (and later Keyleth) where undermanned to go into that fight without all their allies present. Scanlan was not there to see that Raishan was attempting to mess with Thordak’s corpse/soul and has every right to be upset that Vax’s actions essentially led Scanlan’s death, Vex’s death, and the near death of many other party members. 

- That said though, Scanlan went about it in totally the wrong way. Yes that was a conversation that had to happen, and yes the sooner it happened the better. But to call Vax out in front of everybody like that with such vitriol as misdirection to get everybody away from the fact that he had just passed out from using drugs is...sorta gross. Like, we know Scanlan can be a deceptive and manipulative mother fucker, but up until this point it’s mostly been for laughs or to help VM in some fashion. This time he’s manipulating and deceiving his friends by making one feel like shit and trying to get the rest to be mad  at that one friend to hide his own bad decisions. 

- Before last night I’ve never had issues with Scanlan’s use of Modify Memory. To my knowledge he’s only cast it 4 times now. 1. To give Percy a false memory of the Feywild so that Vex would be able to retain her title. The memory he planted was funny and played for laughs, but at the end of the day, it was him trying a new spell in a relatively harmless fashion while also helping a friend. 2. To have Tooma forget that VM (and every essential NPC of their campaign) are hiding out at Whitestone and changing it to Emon after slipping and revealing that information. Again, covering his own mistake, but covering a mistake that could’ve cost the lives of 1,000s and covering it in a way that could’ve resulted in Vorugal attacking Emon. 3. Kima. Now this one is the most morally gray for me. One the one hand, Kima is an absolute ally and seemingly good person. On the other, they agreed with Raishan to not tell ANYBODY that Raishan is in Whitestone under threat of anybody told (and possibly the city) being destroyed if Raishan was to find out. So I think trying to erase Kima’s knowledge of a Conclave member in Whitestone was...understandable. Not right, not wrong, but understandable. Kima’s reaction was also completely understandable and appropriate. 4. Jarret last night. Much like my last point (forever ago...shit this got long), this is Scanlan manipulating a friend and ally. Not just manipulating them, but literally changing their mind for his own personal gain. Not just that, but changing Jarret’s mind to make him do something he’s clearly uncomfortable doing. Like attempting to guilt Vax as misdirection to hide his bad decisions that’s just all sorts of fuckign gross. 

- If Vax’s letter was about what I think it was about (Vax and Scanlan’s discussion about finding happiness vs dwelling on the shittiness of a situation) Scanlan’s ripping it up at the end of the episode is all sorts of sad. Like, don’t get me wrong, a lot of Scanlan’s actions last night were reprehensible. But I also think they speak of a breaking (or broken) man. Whether he ripped it up because he feels betrayed/mistreated by Vax after Vax’s actions led to his death or because he doesn’t believe what he said to Vax during that initial conversation...Scanlan’s hurting right now and he’s desperate to not be anymore and he’s acting on that desperation in a way that is unacceptable and will lead to somebody getting hurt if he doesn’t stop or if somebody doesn’t help him. 

- That brings me to the saddest thing I pulled from last night’s episode...Scanlan’s a really good liar. He’s also very good at hiding his emotions. Hell, I feel like he’s been in this downward spiral since they found Tiberius body (same episode where he had to cast modify memory on Tooma and right before the Fusaka incidents of Marquet) and the only time anybody has noticed it (at least in character) is when he and Vex had that quick little “I’ve had an off city” conversation when Laura rolled really well on an insight check and Sam rolled poorly on a deception. Other than that, outside of metagaming or Jarret going to another member of VM to explain to them that he and Scanlan have come to this agreement where Jarret gets Scanlan a continuous supply of Suude (thanks to the modify memory spell) unless they get really lucky and Sam rolls a 1 on a future deception check to hide it from him, getting Scanlan that help may not happen in time, his behavior may cost them well before they notice it. 

-  As much as it is a risk, Long Resting was the right decision. Yes, Raishan will get her spells back, but we all remember the Umbersyl fight, Dragons can regain most of their HP over a short rest. Letting a Dragon short rest and attacking them with very limited offensive spells and next to no healing spells is dangerous. With their new flying carpet, capable of carrying Grog apparently, their heaviest melee guy can now get into close combat even if Raishan gets airborne, plus the whole Dancing Sword, so I’m very excited for this showdown.

- Few other small things: Allura in battle you guys (if anybody is still reading). I’m so excited. Allura pounding the Sand Keg like it’s nothing and then slowly slipping into drunkeness while the much larger Ker goes straight to unintelligibility was fantastic. I think Matt missed out on a potentially Gals Being Pal(adin)s scene by not having Kima run and hug tackle Allura “on screen” (we all know it happened “off screen”) Laura Bailey is an improv goddess. The whole bathhouse scene was just phenomenal. I laughed so hard. Same with the Deck of Many Things and Travis/Grog. Oh man, that was so good. He got so lucky it was The Key and not like...The Void or The Idiot or The Fool  Finally: Ker really grew on me this episode. I started last night with a (since deleted) post where I said “if I have to hear ‘ya knooow’ one more time when somebody asks Ker/Patrick a direct gameplay/rp question I may scream” but as the game went on and Patrick got more comfortable getting involved in the actual narrative of the game instead of just essentially being an NPC with a player attached to it I immediately changed my opinion of him. More narratively engaged Ker in the future please and thank you.